#and adaptation is one of the best parts of size difference

[guaxinimraccoon]

Less an ask and more a comment, but I'll make it into an ask. I personally think I would love to be around little borrower tinies but my general vibe (especially while unmedicated) would be extra repulsive to them. It's the ADHD energy of never sitting still, always pacing, or leg bouncing, shifting my weight back and forth, being Loud, etc. Do you think any of your human (or non-canonly human) OCs would fit into this category? How do you think little folks would handle it?

Oh that's so lovely, we don't bring up mental conditions often enough in g/t scenarios (at least not that I'm aware of) and I think it's so important and interesting to show the difficulties of having to adapt to one's behaviours in g/t stories. It makes everything more interesting, not only we have the size barrier, but also the mental condition barrier, be it on that G's or t's side.

I don't believe mental condition habits would be repulsive at all! For the smaller fellas, it'd be part of the whole deal of having to adapt to the size difference, not so different for the big fella who also has to be more careful around them. It's all a process of adaptation and having fun with it!

Talking about OC's, I think human Toby would fit into this category coming to think about it, it would make soooo much sense if he had ADHD lol.

He'd definitely help Brad to move to someplace, like idk, to the top of the fridge and forget his friend is there and leave the room. And then Brad would be like "eh bud I didn't bring my rope- TOBY WAIT WHERE ARE YOU GOING I'M STILL HERE" I guess it'd take awhile for them to overcome this

Brad would probably feel like Toby's too dangerous to be around in the beggining, not only he's big but also forgetful and, in his perspective, unecessarily loud. But overall, it's all part of the package of befriending a giant. Toby's still nice, chill and friendly, he likes to be around him and seeing that he's trying his best motivates Brad to stay. The big dude may forget that his tiny pal was on his hand and start looking for him everywhere (making Brad inevitably laugh at it), but they have a excellent dynamic and Brad wouldn't change anything on his friend.

It'd be soooo angsty (I'm a bitch for that, I'm sorry) if Toby felt self conscious about the whole situation too. He can't help but notice Brad flinching when he talks too loud and paces around the house, making him wonder why his tiny bud keeps visiting him when he's such a mess to be with. He'd be extra careful, extra conscious, but just like Brad, be more chill eventually about it.

The habits won't stop, Brad learns to not be afraid of them. Brad will take some time to stop flinching, but Toby will do his best to keep his voice low and pay attention to where his friend is.

AND once they're all good with that, Brad will definitely enjoy being bounced up and down on Toby's knee, is like a mechanical bull for him. All the while Toby being "you're the weirdest, c'mon, come to the table" and Brad like "DON'T TOUCH ME I'M A COWBOY AND THIS IS MY INDOMITABLE STALLION" and then Toby "lmaoo I'm not even thinking abt it dude wtff"

[mskenway97]

Bot in flames

I have been wanting to write this for a long time and I started thinking about heat cycles in robots.

My mind was focused on bayverse optimus prime and I came up with all this.

Forgive me but I couldn't help but want to XD.

Bayverse Optimus Prime X Fem!Human!Reader

Summary: You are a new mechanic working at NEST after the problems in Egypt, you became very close to the autobot leader, until one moment he started to avoid you, the rest of autobots warnning to you. Until you find out why.

Occurs between revenge of the fallen and dark of the moon.

Words: 2,451

Warnings: heat cycles, belly budge, cumflation, masturbation, multiple orgasm, size difference,possessive, g/t

You had always been interested in technology, you had gone into mechanics although many people would not take you seriously in what you were doing. Until you started seeing something that caught your attention, the Mission City events.

A lot of people said it was a lie, a hoax… Other websites said they had witnesses and testimonies about giant robots. You tried to see more images but nothing.

Everything seemed to be a lie until a giant robot appeared on your TV telling you that you were not alone, that there were more beings in the galaxy. That even though everyone was scared, you were more interested but you were just a mechanic, no matter how much you wanted to meet them you were not going to find them, until you received a letter because of your knowledge, they were needed at the base of NEST.

They blindfolded you and put you in a black car without asking, like the movies, the ride was a bit long until you got to an interrogation room, showing if you had a criminal record, not to reveal the information here without ending up dead. Once finished they took you outside a huge hangar and put you on hold, until a middle-aged man who seemed to be the general, came to pick you up in person.

-Y/N, General Lennox we have seen that your knowledge in mechanics and your project of coexistence between machines and humans is unique. I'm just telling you try to stay calm, you're going to be surrounded by autobots. The first time is usually a surprise.

He wasn't lying when he took me to another hangar with huge beings of different sizes looking at you. I had a feeling of nervousness, butterflies and above all that he would not try to give me a heart attack. It was one thing to see fuzzy pictures on the web sites you had seen and another to see them in person…. Besides your height was not the tallest, you literally understood how the ants felt.

You saw the biggest of them all approaching, it seemed to be the leader, with red and blue flames, with what looked like parts of a truck, despite your situation it seemed interesting to you.

-Y/N, my name is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots…. It is a pleasure to meet you, we read your project, it caught our attention, in part we need more human allies that promise us their commitment. If you decide to leave I will understand your motives but if you stay you will be apprenticed to one of our best doctors as well as learning about the coexistence you seek. Do we have your word?

You were trying to calm down when you saw that huge being kneeling in front of you and the rest of them looking at you, seeing that your nervous system was somewhat altered by the situation. Trying to calm down until you felt Lennox's hand on your shoulder as they were waiting for your answer.

You nodded as your mouth had gone dry trying to speak, the giant black robot was amused by your nervousness, he moved closer showing his cannons causing you to stumble to the ground, making him laugh.

-I like this squishy…. I'm going to like working with you

Well in the rest of the news they started to introduce you to the rest of the team, you already knew names like Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Ironhide, Sidewispe, etc. And the rest of the facilities, they put you in charge of working with Ratchet.

The weeks of adaptation were somewhat curious, as you were startled by every scare the twins and Sidewispe gave you.

Ratchet carefully taught you the systems of a robot to take care of them carefully: you learned the different parts of the body of a cybertronian, Ironhide taught you the workings of the weapons although his demonstrations still scared you so much firepower that you reflexively hid behind his leg.

Your favorite sessions were with Optimus, even though he was the biggest of them all, he was very nice to you… You started to get a little more trusting as you told each other about different experiences. He told you about his culture, his planet… You were more and more interested, he was also interested in your customs, your history. Besides, I know that his way of treating you was to carry you in his servos with care, sometimes he was contemplating, with his finger he touched your cheek, it was a strange contact but you felt quite comfortable. He had also put you on his shoulder. You didn't know if it was friendship you had with this bot, but you were happy to finally have a confidant.

You had been in NEST for a few months now, you learned quickly but there was something that had been bothering you in the last week about the behavior of a certain autobot leader.

At first it seemed to you that he was stressed out from the missions in order to find Megatron but every time you were near an Autobot he would get sideways and also with the humans you were working with. You don't talk like before either, every time you tried to talk to him alone he would disappear saying he had something else to do. This was starting to bother you a lot but with the meetings you didn't have the time or the moment.

-Y/N aren't paying attention to the lessons…. - Ratchet said as he tapped me on his digit.

-Sorry, Ratchet, I just had something else on my mind.

-You should be focused on where you are right now. Although I guess it's about Optimus right?

You were surprised to see that the doc bot had guessed it. Seeing your expression, he laughed at you a little.

-It's obvious, everyone at the base is aware of you… The truth is, we haven't seen Optimus happy with someone in millennia.

You sighed as I grabbed the tools and went to work on one of Ironhide's weapons.

-I don't understand his behavior lately… He's been acting so strange, I'm worried.

Ratchet cleared his throat as he became serious while forcing you to look at him with his digits on your chin - This business you should stay out of, y/n. He'll get over it, just try not to be alone with him.

You didn't understand why Ratchet gave you that advice you tried, he looked at you again - Believe me y/n, it's best to keep your distance from Optimus for now.

There was something you didn't understand about what was going on, you asked the rest of the Autobots about it, almost everyone gave you fuzzy answers about what was happening to the autobot leader, until you got to Ironhide who gave you another warning that left you even more surprised.

-Squishy, there are some things you shouldn't meddle with no matter how curious you are. Although if you solve your doubts I wish you luck so you can get out of it - said Ironhide

You were thoughtful about everything you had heard from the autobots, you missed Optimus since the last few months you had felt an attachment to the autobot leader that went beyond friendship with him. You admitted that you had fallen in love with that big guy with blue optics, his kindness, his authority and obviously his height and figure.

Although you were still curious about what was going on, you decided to follow the advice of the autobots not to be alone with the autobot leader for the time being. You were succeeding but every time you entered a room his gaze followed you everywhere. You literally felt like cat and mouse, there would come a time when cat would end up getting what he wanted even though you didn't know what.

Until one day when you were almost ready to leave because you had overstayed your welcome at the base, you heard a noise in the hangars.

Lennox and the military team explained to you that the farthest hangars of the base were for storage or special equipment for both autobots and humans. Something in your instincts told you that you should not go there but you decided to go out of curiosity, you opened the big door carefully, that place was dark so you stepped carefully not to touch anything dangerous.

Your nerves were on edge and the adrenaline was the only thing that kept you moving, you were getting closer to the source of the noise, at the same time you were seeing that there was smoke around, making this put you more alert than before, it was clear that you were not alone in this place.

You came to see a dim light at the back of the warehouse, it was difficult to pass with so many boxes around but you passed as you could. Finally you arrived carefully at the origin where you were surprised to see who was there.

It was Optimus, with his exhaust pipes producing smoke while on a large part of his body there was a pink liquid around his body.

You were about to approach to see if he was okay but you stopped when you heard him…

He was moaning?

He was at the same time rubbing what seemed to be his spike, while there was even more transfluid.

You remembered certain lessons that gave you some embarrassment from Ratchet. You were trying to remember but seeing the leader like that made you tingle. You shook your head it was clear you were not supposed to be here. You were going to tread carefully until you heard him moaning your name….

You tried to leave carefully until you bumped into one of the crates making a lot of noise.

-Who's there?" growled the autobot leader.

You tried to hide quickly only to feel a servo around your body. You closed your eyes, you were trembling at the sight.

-Look at me...

You opened your eyes to see how it was caressing you with its digits. - How long have you been here? - asked the autobot leader.

That tone made you shiver, it didn't seem like Optimus was the one he was talking to.

- I haven't seen anything, I'll leave without bothering...

-No... I've been avoiding this situation for the past few weeks, feeling jealous of the rest that came close to you and what hurts me the most is that you started avoiding me. My y/n... This time, you are going to stay by my side.

You didn't understand what was happening, until two of his fingers were touching your thighs making you shudder.

- You know how much I wanted you, your kindness and curiosity. Your smile, your beauty... and your figure. Oh Primus, my spike was begging to enter your body. To make you mine... I know you want it too

You moaned again, as you felt the pressure on your thighs... you were starting to feel hot I knew you should stop but at the same time you wanted to know where I wanted to go.

His optics were watching you seeing a smile on your face.

-Well I see that you agree....

Then you felt his glossa lick your neck and then kiss you while continuing the pressure on your thighs. Right now you were reacting to several streams of pleasure that you never thought was possible.

His digits removed your pants while he kept kissing you and you felt his glossa tasting your taste.

You moaned as you felt a digit around your entrance.

-I'm just preparing your body for the best part... let yourself go, my little one," he whispered in your ear as you felt his digit touching your insides moving up and down making you moan in different ways for the leader's pleasure while he whispered how much he wanted you, he loved you madly but at the same time he didn't want to scare you away.

You moaned again as you looked up at him.

- Then you too... - you said between moans as he digit around your walls.

-Yes... I love you and I need you...

You climaxed as he pulled out his digit and licked it. He smiled at you as you caught your breath. You thought you were going to rest but you saw he was bringing his spike closer.

-We're not done yet... I want to feel you more... Mine all mine

You were going to protest but you felt his spike enter inside of you and saw a big bulge through your body. He started to move slowly.

-You are so tight

As you gasped as you tried to take it, it overcame the digit. Once he adjusted to your body he began to move faster and faster and you both gasped at the same pace. He was about to climax, you fell in as he could.

-Wait I can't... ah! It's going to be too much.

-Ah! -Easy... i can't out! Ah! Oh Primus! - gasped Optimus as well.

You both climaxed as you felt your body fill with the transfluid.

Your belly completely swollen as he carefully removed his spike while some transfluid fell out.

-That was... Intense - you said while touching your belly - What happened to you?

Optimus kissed your forehead as he placed you close to his chest.

- We have heat cycles something your species would say in heat, I couldn't take it anymore.... I should have done it sooner though, my little one.

You smiled and I snuggled close.

-Then I won't move away next time.

Optimus chuckled and held you close.

You had learned a lesson from the heat cycles, something that was not to be the last time.

[netherfeildren]

Greener Memories of Better Men

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Best Story of the Day! South Austin elementary school started a “Breakfast With Dads” program but many dads couldn’t make it and several students didn’t have father figures. The school posted fliers at the local YMCA’s for 50 volunteer fathers… 600 different people from all backgrounds showed up…

Joel Miller is one of them. 

-OR- 

Sarah’s gone and Joel wants to feel close to her again. He reconnects with someone he used to know along the way.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak; Grief; Child loss; Emotional hurt/comfort; Angst; Fluff and smut; Unprotected sex; Creampie; Oral Sex (f!receiving); Size Difference; Size kink; Dirty talk; Truck sex; Praise kink

A/N: This was planned for a long time, and then just happened all at once today without prior thought. Enjoy! :)

Word Count: 10.8K

Read on AO3

When she got very sick, towards the end, they used to listen to “The Weight” by The Band all the time. He’d sit at her bedside playing it for her over and over again, and he’d watch her breathe. For hours, he’d sit there and watch the rise and fall of her chest, the slow, weak thrum of her pulse in her neck beneath the wan and clammy skin, listen to the sound of her fight to continue existing. Sometimes, when she was a little more on this side of lucid, when she’d let him look at those gorgeous green eyes, she’d mouth the words at him through cracked, parched lips. Hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed? The still beautiful sound of her laughter, not made any less lovely despite its weakness now, when she adapted the lyrics to suit herself, take a load off, daddy. 

And sometimes, when she was keen on showing that superior and tremendous wit, that intelligent mind, the eye she had for seeing within and through him, she’d say that Fanny was the friend they’d always needed, but had never had. Like she knew, she knew there were times, only sometimes, where there was something missing, an imaginary figure that would have been nice or helpful, that was sometimes wished for. A mother, a wife, a partner, a friend, something they might have both needed or liked to have, perhaps, even especially, now, at the end. 

It had been a slow crawl towards death, for a long time, and then, suddenly, a mad dash to the finish line she’d seemed desperate to win. 

At times he’d been angry, angry and resentful and so fucking filled with a rage so deep it terrified him at the unfairness of it all. Sometimes there were parts of Joel that wished it was him lying in that bed, rotting away from the inside out by that invisible poison crawling through his little girls veins, but then the idea of Sarah being the one left behind, the one left alone, seemed an equally terrible fate, and he could not discern which was the worse of the two evils. And so he was left with nothing but this terrible impotence warring inside of him against his equally terrible anger. 

If he could have carried the weight of her illness for her, he would have. If he could have bore the pain and suffering of it, he would have. He would have eaten his own heart, cut off his own limb, forsaken everything he’d ever known, to have taken her suffering from her. He’d told her they’d be brave together, that they’d get out of it together. Eventually though, that mad dash had ended, and after it was all done, she’d been the only one to be brave, and he’d been the only one to get out of it. If that’s what it could even be called. Sarah had died and Joel had been left with nothing more than whatever half life he pretended at now. 

It’d been a year and a half since then, five hundred and sixty seven days since he’d put his only child in the ground. Days of living his life as if a thousand raging gladiators screamed and readied for battle in his mind while he lay limp and motionless in their midst. While he lay limp and motionless as the rest of the world went on around him. He failed all the time now, it seemed. Failed at being a father, a man, a brother, in his waking hours and in his dreams. And sometimes he wondered or worried at what she’d think of him now, if she saw what he’d let himself become. A limp and useless thing in the shadow of the memory of what he’d always been or wanted to be. 

But he remembered love, he remembered loving her, and he thought that if he held onto that, perhaps, he could be something again. Certainly not himself, or who or what he’d been before, but he could find the wherewithal or the strength or the conviction to be something, surely, he could be something again. How could death have the ability to touch such perfection? He could not understand. So, if he could no longer be a father, Sarah's father, then he could find it in himself to at least be alive, couldn’t he? For her, at least, for that memory of loving her. 

He sees the flier at the YMCA one evening, after he’s finished his workout. For months he’d gone from work to bed and bed to work. Gotten soft and lazy and horrible, half dead, but he’d had a dream a few weeks ago, a memory of them at Lady Bird Lake when they’d go and feed the ducks. She’d wanted to burst into the water after them, catch one for herself. Skinny little arms and legs flailing as he caught her around the waist, stopping her from rushing in after the poor things as they paddled madly away from the lovely little terror that she was. The thing he was now was not the man, the father, he had been before, not even a fraction. And he’d felt disgusted and ashamed and frightened with himself at the thought of her ever seeing the creature he’d become. He’d gone for a jog that evening after work. As exhausted and beaten down from the day as he’d been, he’d tied on his sneakers and forced his body to move. It had felt terrible and cathartic and he’d thrown up in his front yard afterwards, pathetic, heaving sobs wracking his body as he emptied the contents of his stomach in the overgrown grass and tears dripped down the tip of his nose, right there for the whole world to witness. But he’d gone out again the next day and the next and the next, and then he’d gone and gotten a membership for the Y, paid the thirty dollars and promised himself he’d make it there a few days every week. Pushed himself week after week to exhaustion and tears, even, sometimes. Wilting into bed at the end of the day like a felled weed, but he couldn’t stop. 

Don’t stop to think, don’t interrupt the scream. 

So he tried to not think, and he tried to keep going. 

They used to walk down there all the time before, to the Y, Joel, Sarah and Tommy. She loved to swim, and the three of them would jump in the pool together and play for hours every summer. They were good memories he knew he needed to keep fresh in his mind, like a muscle that needed to be exercised constantly. He couldn’t, didn’t want to lose them. 

The flier called for volunteers to show up for an event at Sarah’s old elementary school, “Breakfast with Dads” requesting fathers who could show up for those children who didn’t have a father figure in their lives. He’d stood still as a statue, reading the poster over and over again for almost ten minutes there, in the middle of the bustle of the busy gym around him. He could still remember the last time he’d picked her up at school with perfect clarity, the way she’d looked, curls bobbing around her, green eyes shining, shooting out the double doors towards him. She’d always been good in school, smart and lovely and friendly. He’d had to make the difficult decision to pull her out almost a year before she’d died, when she’d started getting too weak from the treatments to continue going in person. He’d not been back to the place since. Didn’t know if he was capable of walking through those halls she used to walk through, where she’d been happy, had friends, been a kid. 

He thinks about it for days afterwards, afraid and unsure and awkward with himself. Worried the children will be able to smell the deceit on him, the fact that he isn’t really a father anymore, lying on the soft purple rug of her perfectly preserved bedroom. A mausoleum to her memory that he meticulously cleans every Sunday to maintain exactly as she left it, staring up at the stick-on stars of the ceiling. He thinks that perhaps it would be good for him, that perhaps he would like the chance to feel like a father again, to remember what it is to have some spunky little kid talk at him for hours on end the way Sarah used to. And if nothing else, he thinks that there might be some child out there without the commodity of a father, the way he is without the blessing of his daughter, who would appreciate the fact that he’d shown up. Perhaps, he can make some kid not feel as alone as he always feels now. 

The morning of the breakfast dawns bright and warm, but with the faint scent of impending rain in the ether. She’d died on the same kind of sunny, tremulous day, and Joel’s hands shake as he walks up the steps of the elementary school. Flashes of the memory of her running out of these same double doors, skipping down the steps, curls flopping and gap toothed smile more luminous and sillier than any sight he’d ever beheld before. His heart beats like a hummingbird in his chest, hands clammy and shaking and ridiculous. He cries all the time now, at any and everything and it embarrasses him but is also so strangely freeing. He’d watched that ridiculous, but not really, movie Uptown Girls last night and had wept like a child at the end of it, all throughout it if he’s being honest. Huge mistake for the night before he was supposed to show face bright and early and have some kid inspecting him. Tommy’d shown up this morning with coffee and burritos and told him his face looked swollen, fucking asshole, and he’s once again ridiculous and embarrassed and awkward and shaking with nerves as he takes a few deep, calming breaths, before stepping into the Sarah’s old cafeteria. 

The large room is loud and chaotic, the bright sound of children’s voices and laughter and commotion, and people, there are a lot of fucking people. Two different lines of men, traversing the entire wide room, starting at a long table on one end and snaking through the lunch tables. It seems he wasn’t the only one who’d seen the posters, who had felt the need to come here today. He’s inspecting the lines, deciding which one seems to be moving faster when he hears his name, soft and breathy and incredulous, voice like a fucking angel: “Joel?”

He turns and there you are. “Joel Miller?” You almost stumble towards him, hand almost outstretched, eyes almost swimming. The last time he’d seen you was the last time he’d picked Sarah up here, and there’d been real tears in your eyes that time as you got to your knees, and his daughter buried her face in your neck, your soft hair, as she cried and told you how much she’d miss you, how much she didn’t want to go. You’d been her last teacher before she’d had to leave school – she’d never gotten to finish the year with you, and it had been a painful and difficult parting for the both of you. One he’d not appreciated fully in the moment, but now, looking at your shocked face, like you’ve seen a ghost, the memory rears its head in his mind, the sound of your voice trying to soothe her, trying to remain strong, stifle the sound of your own tears. You’d gone to the hospital once, near the end, the nurses had told him, in the quick hour he allotted himself to go home and shower every day, to say goodbye to her. Had sat at her bedside and laughed with her, brought her a card and a bright bouquet of yellow daisies in a pretty, blown glass vase from her entire class. It had been near the end of the school year, what would have been the end of Sarah’s second grade year, and he’d been glad, after the nurse had gushed about the pretty young woman who’d come in, made Sarah laugh and smile, perked her up for even a few brief moments, he’d been so fucking glad he’d missed you. He hoped he’d never have to see you again, could avoid the memory of his daughter in your care, the way the two of you looked at each other, like you shared a secret, a friendship, a connection, that of pupil and teacher, but also just two girls, something special and sacred. He envied it and resented it and was glad he’d missed you and grateful he’d not had to see you, but he was also grateful for the fact of you, that you’d been able to give her something she’d needed and he could not provide. 

He whispers your name, and you finally reach him, hand fully outstretched now, not an almost anything anymore, and your small, delicate fingers grasp at his thick forearm. The soft touch burns. 

He places his big hand over yours, completely engulfing you, and when he whispers your name back he feels a tremble in your limb. “Joel, I’m so glad to see you,” said with so much sincerity he feels the backs of his eyes pinch. He did not think the hardest part of this day would be seeing you again, a person who’d known and cared for his daughter so deeply. 

“I– I’m glad to be here,” he chokes, coughs, tries to take a steadying breath. “I saw the posters– just thought… I just thought it’d be nice for me to come around.”

“Yes,” you squeeze his arm gently, “Yes, of course. Welcome, please, I’m really so glad to see you here. There are so many great kids here today–” you cut yourself off, and your face does a funny sort of uncertain thing, you shake your head, try and give him a small smile. A deep breath, and then: “There are so many kids here that need someone. It’s a real good thing you came.”

“Yeah, well… I just wanted to– to feel– to remember–” he shakes his head too, unable to continue, but he sees that you understand. You slide that small hand into his, wrapping around two of his thick fingers and pull him around and further into the room. Nodding your head and smiling back at him like you’ve got the best sort of secret you’re about to let him in on. “Of course. Come on, I’ll show you to your seat. I know just the person for you.”

-

“Joel, this is my niece–”

“Who the fuck is this guy?” All the sass in the world and a scarred eyebrow to boot. 

“Ellie,” you say nice and slow, voice soothing as if trying to calm a wild banshee on the verge of revolt, it makes him smile a small smile, “We’re gonna be nice. You promised this morning.”

“Ugh, fine,” she drops her head back on her neck, and he can see the whites of her eyes flash as she rolls them as far back as they can surely go. “Stick me with the dinosaur, what do I care?” Christ, he mutters under his breath, trying to hide his scoff of a laugh with a rough cough. He turns his head to rub his chin against the hill of his shoulder, running a hand over his whiskered face. 

“Ellie– Mom said you can’t go to the sleepover tonight if you aren’t nice. Right?” You try and reason with her. 

“Fine. Whatever – nice.” And she flashes a big old, saccharine grin, wagging her eyebrows at you. 

“Okay,” you turn back to him, bringing your hands together in a soft clap beneath your chin and giving him a small and painfully sweet little smile – worried and probably a little afraid for him. He shakes his head, “It’s alright, we’ll be okay,” he says low, distracted by the sight of your small hands, fine and delicate looking, and the dainty gold necklace that sits at the hollow of your throat, a little golden pendant of your initial. 

You nod your head slowly, turn back to give the kid, Ellie, one more stern look, and then turn to walk away, leaving him to face her alone, and no, he most definitely does not glance at your ass as you walk away from him.

He turns back to look at the kid, and she rolls her eyes again, turning back to flip open the book she’s got infront of her on the lunch table, a one Will Livingston’s No Pun Intended: Volume Too. 

He snorts a little, sighs and settles into the cramped bench made for a child, thick thighs barely squeezing into the space between the table’s edge and the seat, knees bumping the underside. “Well aren’t you a pleasant one.”

“Yeah, a ray of fuckin’ sunshine. What’s your problem?”

“Jesus, kid. How old are you?”

“Thirteen. How old are you?”

“Forty eight.”

“Old.”

“Yeah.”

“So, why'd you get stuck with the leftovers? Where's your kid?”

He clears his throat, “Uh well, she– she’s not here anymore. Or I mean– she doesn’t go to school here anymore. She died. A while ago.”

“Oh, shit.” She’s quiet for a beat, looking down at the open page of the book, It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope. It’ll still be stationary. “That sucks, man. I'm sorry.”

He supposes the correct response is: “Thank you,” he nods his head awkwardly, still unaccustomed to going through the motions of having to tell people and accept condolences. He doesn’t think it’ll ever be something he gets used to. 

“I think…” she tilts her head side to side, letting the thought slide between her ears, flips to the next page, I walked into my sister’s room and tripped on a bra. It was a booby trap. “That my dad is dead, or at least a dead beat or something,” she snickers. “Don’t know. My mom never talks about him.”

Dead or a dead beat, he mutters, shaking his head, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s hard– being a parent, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah… hardest thing in the world–”

“Is it like – like weird… to not be one anymore?”

He feels his stomach drop out from under him, coughs roughly, “Dunno… I guess– I guess in ways I still feel like a parent. Think I’ll always feel like that. But in other ways, yes, it’s… weird.”

“Yeah… I guess that makes sense. You don’t forget how stuff feels, right?”

“Yeah, you don’t forget how stuff feels.”

“Do you like space?” she asks suddenly, very seriously, knocking her head to the side, looking up at him with big, baleful, hazel eyes. His heart twists in his chest.

“Sure, yeah. Space is alright.”

And then another seeming one eighty: “If you could do anything you wanted, where would you go? What would you do?”

“Don’t know, never really thought about it. Maybe… an old farmhouse, some land, a ranch.”

“Cool. What kind?”

He shakes his head, Jesus, I don’t know… “Sheep. I would raise sheep.” She nods, doubtful, unimpressed look on her face, and he frowns at the look, “They’re quiet, do what they’re told.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. So, just you and a bunch of sheep. Romantic,” she says sarcastically. 

“What about you? What would you do?”

She points a single finger up towards the ceiling, ah, space… “Probably because I’ve always been here, never left Austin, single mom and all, ya know– I’ve read everything I could in the school library… Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?”

He could understand her on this. He felt, too often, like he was still right where she’d left him. “Sally Ride,” he says, of course.

“Sally fuckin’ Ride!” She slaps her hands down on the table, “Best astronaut name ever,” Shakes her head, whistling through her teeth appreciatively. 

He nods his head, yeah, figures. “So, your aunt…” and he feels a hot flush spread over the tops of his cheekbones, real smooth, Joel. At least he’d waited this long. 

“She’s my mom’s sister. She’s great. The three of us live together – kind of like my second mom, I guess. Or like they take turns being mom and dad. We’ve always been together.”

“That’s great, kid. She’s great. She– she was my daughter’s teacher, I’ve known her for a while now.”

“Yeah, she really is. I punched this girl last year,” she says way too excitedly, “Bethany,” rolls her eyes, “For being a huge dick, man, like seriously, she was. And she got me out of it. Backed me up with the principal, Mr. Kwong. No one else would’ve stuck up for me that way.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Seems like her style–”

“Protective,” she snickers.

“Yeah–” 

“And good. Her and my mom, they’re a unit, the three of us. Don’t know, I’ve never seen anyone take care of each other the way they do. Sometimes…” she looks away a little shyly, “I misbehave,” she says slowly, “Like the fighting. For no reason, I guess. And I know it worries them. But I’m trying to be better, not fight as much. My friend Riley, she’s a good influence. She stops me when I get too riled up.”

“I reckon it’s a lot easier said than done, but the fact that you’re trying to be good is what counts, is what I’d say. I’m sure being thirteen is difficult,” he says a little sarcastically, but giving her the approximation of a small, warm smile.

“Fuck you, man,” she laughs, “It’s difficult as shit.” It hits him then, suddenly, that the kid just needs someone to talk to, someone other than perhaps her mother or her aunt who she knows love and worry for her so much. A third, impartial party. Joel had come here today and been able to be that for her, and as inconsequential as it may seem, after all he’s lived through, it’s everything to him. 

The teachers and school administrators begin the process of handing out the breakfast: pancakes and bacon and sausage and fruit, and Ellie tells him about her book, full of terrible puns he pretends to frown at but also can’t really help but laugh at with her, and about a comic she loves Savage Starlight. Endure and survive, she tells him, is the motto, and he can’t help but think the idea is far reaching and significant in its truth. They sit and talk and laugh together, and it’s easy, this surly kid who pretends at being angry, hiding her charm with a potty mouth and a scowl, but who’s really nothing but sweet. It makes his chest ache and his throat go tight. So much so, that after a while he needs to excuse himself. He tells her he’s going to the restroom and runs off like a coward, the devil and his memories on his heels to take a few deep breaths, a moment alone to collect himself. 

He rushes out of the cafeteria, bursting through the double doors and out into the hallway, scurrying to find a lone corner to hide himself and his shame and grief away in. He makes it to a shadowed alcove at the mouth of an empty hallway of classrooms and presses his hands to the concrete blocks of the wall, painted a soft blue color. He stares at the pockets in the aggregate and tries to take deep breaths, feels the air pass through his lungs, inflate his belly, and then back out, transformed into the world as something else. Sometimes he wishes he had the ability to transform his grief into something else – a non-memory, perhaps. Sometimes he wishes he could forget the whole thing, a terrible, selfish, disgusting thought. But pain makes terrible creatures out of us sometimes, and Joel has existed in a pool of such pain these past five hundred and sixty seven days that sometimes it’s difficult to recognize himself anymore, his desires, his goals, if he even has those anymore. Like he’d said to the kid, it’s a lot easier said than done, but the fact that you’re trying to be good is what counts, and he was trying so very hard to be good, better. 

“Joel?” That soft voice again, a shiver claws its way down his spine, and he shakes his head at the wall, letting his hot, pinched eyes fall closed. 

He coughs, trying to clear his throat, “M’fine. Just needed a second–” Coughs again. And then he feels that small hand from before, at the small of his back. You rest there, gifting him that brief, comforting touch, and he reaches behind himself to clasp you around the wrist, keep you there with him, silent for a moment while he tries and fails to collect himself. His fingers wrap entirely around your wrist and something different and hot and alive flutters deep in his belly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it. I’m just– It’s overwhelming being here. I’m sorry. I’m okay,” he rambles. 

“It’s okay, Joel. Just take your time.” Your voice is too soft and gentle for a hard and broken thing like him. 

“She’s a good kid,” he tries and fails to keep his voice steady, comes out all hiccupped and cracked instead, and he feels you step closer, not touching him anywhere else, but he can feel the heat of you against his back. 

“She is,” you whisper.

“S’got a fuckin’ mouth on her.”

“Yeah…” You try and laugh, fail.

He cracks and splinters: “I didn’t think it would be like this coming back here… seeing you,” voice breaking, “She was sick for so long, and I knew she didn’t want to leave me. I knew she was so fucking tired, but she kept holding on just for me. And I told her it was okay, I told her to go and that I’d find her again one day, and now I don't know who I am or what I’ve become, and all I can think about every single day is that if she saw me now I worry she wouldn't recognize me anymore.”

“You’re trying, Joel. That's all that matters. I know you are. I can see it now even just here today, you being here–”

“I wish I could see her smile again, just once–” he cuts you off, not really listening. His ears filled with static noise, chest heaving. Your other hand comes to his flank, and it’s too much: this place, your touch, the kid, all of it, all of his memories and all of his grief, and he shouldn’t have come here today. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and for a second, right before he pushes you away, he squeezes your wrist tightly, as tight as he can without really hurting you, lets the heat of your skin burn him, and then lets go of you, harshly shaking you off. 

“I’m fine. I shouldn’t have come here today, I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”

“Joel–”

“Tell Ellie I’m sorry, but I have to go.” And like a fucking coward, like a man his daughter’d be ashamed of, he leaves, runs away from you and the memory of her and another child who needs something he is not equipped to give. 

He listens to the sound of your voice calling after him, and he is nothing but sorry and nothing but too much of a man he wishes he’d never been made into. 

-

You’re on your second margarita when he walks in. Trailing his brother, serious, sullen look on his handsome face. When you’d seen him this morning, after all that time, after the last time which had been so painful and so sad and so full of regret for the circumstance of it, you’d felt like your heart was about to burst through your chest. You thought about him so often, about her, more often, probably, than was warranted or healthy, but the experience of having a child such as that in your care, such a special little person, and having to witness the extinguishing of such a bright flame… Well, calling it a tragedy was entirely inadequate in the face of all it truly was. 

Anna was kind of dating the bartender that worked here, and with Ellie away at a slumber party tonight, the two of you’d decided to have a girl’s night out that you were almost certain was going to turn into a slumber party for Anna with her bartender, Ben, as well. 

You eye the two brothers as they find their spot at the far end of the bar, watch as Tommy, you remember she used to talk about him all the time, flags down Ben to order them two beers, appreciating the way Joel pulls on the glass bottle with that soft, frowning mouth of his. 

He’s so sad. There’s no other word for it. Sad and hurt and made into a sort of tragedy of a man that you wish desperately, and even though it’s not your place, that you could do something to help. The sound of him choking back tears this morning, the sight of him laughing with Ellie, she’d warmed to him immediately which was a miracle all on its own, and he is, you think, a man with so much tenderness to give that has nowhere to go now. And it is nothing but the gravest and saddest sort of tragedy. 

“Hi, Joel.” Eventually, you muster up enough courage, after one more margarita, to approach him. You think that, perhaps, he’ll be annoyed to see you again, another reminder of his past and the difficulty of the morning, but you need to just talk to him one more time. To thank him again for being so brave, to reassure him that he’d done good. Tommy’d abandoned him to brave the waters of the bar a while ago, and he turns in his stool at the sound of your voice to peer over his shoulder. You love his beard, thick and lush and so soft looking, his thick, dark curls, slightly threaded with silver at the temples, and his ridiculously broad back. He’s wearing a dark green button down that brings out the colors in his eyes, tight around the swell of his thick biceps. He’s gorgeous and so fucking hot, and he makes you feel silly with nerves and fizzy bubbles deep in your belly. 

“Hey–” he clears his throat, says your name softly, with a hint of apology. “Hey.”

“I saw you come in earlier, and I– I just wanted to come over and say hi and thank you again for this morning. It was a real nice thing of you to come today.” You try and swallow the shyness and nerves in your voice, but you’re pretty sure you fail spectacularly, can just picture Anna’s mocking giggles as she watches you twist your fingers and fidget in front of the man. 

“You already thanked me,” he says gruffly, “And besides there’s nothing really to thank me for.”

“I know, but again, or anyways,” you stutter, “And there is.” There’s absolutely no reason for these nerves, you know this man, have known him for years, “It was a good thing of you to do. Ellie really liked you–”

“You gave her my apologies, right?” He cuts you off, a thing akin to desperation and worry coloring his tone. 

“I did, don’t worry. She understood.” He looks like he wants to ask what excuse you gave her but forces himself into silence, looking down at his hands in his lap sullenly. “I don’t know… I just wanted to say thank you again.”

“Alright. And I’m sorry too, about earlier – after. I was an ass.”

“You weren’t. I shouldn’t have gone after you, should’ve given you your privacy. I’m sorry. I was nosey.”

He shakes his head, looks up at you with those hazel eyes, “No, I wanted you to come after me.” His voice is rough, like it costs him something to admit this truth to you, “Thank you.”

You have to look away, glancing back at Anna who gives you a wide, cheesy grin and a thumbs up, followed by a much more inappropriate hand gesture. You roll your eyes at her, a hot flush burning your cheeks. “That’s your brother, right? Tommy?” You turn back to him. 

“Yeah, it is… You wanna sit?” He gestures to Tommy’s empty stool. 

“She used to talk about him all the time.” You take the offered seat, nervous for a second that he’ll resent you bringing her up, react badly, but he gives a soft laugh, looking after his brother. “Yeah…” he says slowly, “They were real close.”

“That’s really nice,” you say sincerely. You catch Ben’s eye, and he nods his head at you, turning to get the two of you another round. “You two having a boys night out?”

He gives a short laugh, bringing his beer to his mouth again, pressing the lip of the bottle to his smile, “Guess he was just trying to do the same thing you are right now, distract me, make sure I’m alright or somethin’,” a quick shake of his head, and then takes another drag, and you watch the thick muscles of his neck work as he swallows. You have to look away from the sight, cross your knees together tightly, pulling down the hem of your wrap dress to keep it from riding too high. 

Ben comes around at that moment to place two shots in front of the two of you. “Here you go, baby girl,” a wink and that smarmy little smirk that makes Anna lose her head, for some inexplicable reason, “Tequila for you and your friend here.”

“Baby girl?” Joel eyes you, as you push the shot towards him. 

You roll your eyes, “Ignore him.” He takes the shot from you, fingers brushing yours briefly and you swear you feel a slight jerk move through him. You want him to want you so badly, you think suddenly. 

“Shall we?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, and he gives you a soft laugh. 

“Seems I don’t got much of a choice,” before clinking his glass against yours, touching the base of it to the bar’s surface, and then shooting it back, not even an insinuation of a grimace as he swallows the strong alcohol, while your face puckers ridiculously. 

Gross. You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking on the lime Ben had left also. “He sweet on you or somethin’?” 

“No, not at all.”

“Huh, not so sure about that,” he eyes your sister’s boytoy almost sourly, and you get brave or reckless or something, all of a sudden, when you press right up to his ear, your breasts against his arm, emboldened by the liquor or the soft hazel of his eys, or the breadth of his shoulders when you whisper right into the peach fuzz covered shell of his ear, “He’s fucking my sister. Not me.”

He freezes, a soft, masculine sound rumbling deep in his chest before he clears his throat. He sets the glass down, and then slowly turns to face you, gripping your knee briefly as he spins on the barstool to bring your legs between the space of his spread thighs. He’s so thick everywhere. 

“Is that so?” The place on your legs where he’d gripped you burns and throbs and the other, softer place between your thighs drips and aches. You nod your head at him, temple resting in your palm propped on the edge of the bar. Ben walks by again, snagging your attention from Joel’s molten gaze, “Gimme permission to come over tonight?” he says as he passes. 

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh after him, and you swear you feel the whisper of Joel’s touch on the curve of your bare knee again. When you turn to look back at him he’s staring down at you, a flush sitting high on his cheekbones. 

There’s something slightly bold or desperate or sad stirring inside of you, and you need to hear the sound of his voice. You wish you could make things better for him. You wish that perpetual look of grief didn’t sit so deeply embedded in his gaze all the time now. 

“You know that feeling of knowing someone, but not knowing them?” He asks you suddenly. “You and I, we’ve known each other for years. You were Sarah’s teacher, and she talked about you all the time – her last teacher – and I felt like I knew you, even though I didn’t really, not in a way that mattered, not in the way I would have liked, if I’m bein’ honest, but we knew each other peripherally. And I wanted you, all that time ago,” he laughs a boyishly shy little huff of laughter interrupting the rush of his confessed words, the crests of his cheeks flushing bright, “In that way you want someone you don't know but see all the time and want to know better. And now, it’s like… like we’re meeting again for the first time, but in a different way, in a way we’ve never met before, and yet you know so much about me already. You knew my daughter, spent time with her, you cared about her – it’s… I don’t really know what it is I’m trying to say, to be honest. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, another unsurely shy laugh, and you reach out to set your hand softly on his knee, rubbing the thick, muscular ball of it. It’s okay, you nod and shake your head at him at the same time. Confused also, with what you’re trying to convey, but knowing you want him to continue anyway. “You knew me before in a different way, and I’m not that man anymore. And I don’t know who I am now, or I’m beginning to relearn, but I’m not there just yet,” He trails off, and then softly: “Have you ever not known yourself?”

You tilt your chin slowly, watching the slow rove of the leftover tequila in the glass as you roll the base of it along the grain of the bar. “I’m… I’m not sure. Would it be very naive or arrogant or shallow to say, no? That I’ve always known myself, that even when I was lost or afraid, I was still certain of who I was, or at the very least, who I wanted to be? Like… like sometimes when you’re uncertain of the next step, or– or of what it is that you want to do next, but you still know the direction, maybe? Or what ending you’d like?” You give a brief huff of laughter, not really meaning to laugh, but expelling the air anyway, glancing down at where you’re still gripping his knee. He lays his own large paw over your much finer hand, calluses on his palm that you can feel on the back of your knuckles. “I think now we’re both, maybe, not making sense. But I think that sometimes happiness is only the peripheral thought, the peripheral ending, like obviously we all always want to end up happy. I was always open to the journey, open to the different avenues my life could take, but all I’ve ever wanted was for me and Anna, and then later, Ellie, to be okay, to be happy. Nothing else matters after that. The way I get there, the way I’d make it happen never mattered. Only that, in the end, we’re okay.”

“No… I know exactly what you mean.” His brow caves in on itself, “I know exactly what you mean because I failed at that. That was all I ever wanted too, and look at what I ended up with. She’s gone, I failed her.”

“But you didn’t, Joel,” you say with all the fervor you can pull from your heart, all the certainty you absolutely know that he’s wrong with. You bring your other hand to his other knee, leaning forward to make absolutely sure he’s understanding. “You can’t honestly say that. You’re right, I did know her, and that little girl was an exceedingly happy child. If anything, you were nothing but a triumph, and you need to hold on to that, and think of it every single day for the rest of your life. You were triumphant in that girl. Never forget it.  There is not even a shadow of failure in the memory of that child and the life she led.” And this does not seem like the appropriate environment to be having such a conversation, but you push on. His hand tightens over yours almost painfully, his blunt rough nails digging into your soft skin. “When she died – was she scared? Or peaceful?”

“She was so fucking brave,” he chokes. “She was so fucking brave. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in that heart. I’d swallowed all of it. I’d swallowed all the fear either of us could ever carry. She’s the one that held me while I fell to pieces. While I lied through my fucking teeth and told her it would be okay, that I’d be okay, that she could rest, she could go. And held me and tried to soothe me and told me she’d see me again one day, but not too soon. Eight years old, dying and comforting her father, cracking jokes. She was so fucking brave, and I’d promised her that we’d both be – that we’d both have courage and both get out of it, and in the end, I ended up being nothing but a goddamn liar.” And there are tears in his eyes, and maybe you shouldn’t and maybe you’re overstepping and maybe it’s the alcohol, but you lean forward in your barstool, that boldness and that desperation and that sadness pushing you along so that your knees are sliding further between his spread thighs to wrap your arms around his neck to hug him tightly to yourself, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, big hand coming up to cup the back of your head. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, even though you know the words are redundant. Even though he’s probably heard them an antagonizing amount of times. You are so sorry, and you have to tell him that you wish you could help him in some other way, that he’d not have to bear this alone, that he’d never have had to live it at all. I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m sorry that you lost your daughter, and I’m sorry you’re alone now, and I’m sorry we didn’t know each other better before, but maybe we can know each other now. I’d like to know you now more than anything else.

You feel the rattle of his wide back as he takes in a shaky breath, and you slide your hand soothingly up the broad expanse to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he laughs wetly into the warm space beneath your jaw, rolling his forehead against your shoulder, “I’m killing the mood,” and you feel the wet press of lips to the soft spot beneath your ear, right at the vulnerable hollow. Your heart stutters, and you shiver a syrupy sweet little jitter down the line of your vertebrae in the clutch of his arms, letting your head fall to the side to open yourself further to him, you smell good, whispered into your skin, but the two of you are sitting at the center of the crowded bar, industriously dedicated patrons hooting and hollering around you, and you can feel Anna’s nosey gaze zeroed into the back of your head so you pull away, letting your hand on the back of his head drag around along the edge of his jaw, fingernails pulling through the soft whiskers of his beard so that you can feel the snick, snick, snick of each bristle beneath your nail. 

“Let’s go outside,” you whisper, made only of boldness and desperation and want now. Wetness pooling at the center of you. 

He pulls back, and his hand slides to grip your jaw in his wide, rough hand. The architecture of you feels inconsequential and without strength or steel in his grasp. “For what?” Voice serious but also knowing, also provoking. 

“I wanna kiss you.” Might as well be honest now that you’ve got his hands on you.

“I think that if we go out there, I’m gonna do more than just kiss you. You prepared for that?”

“Yes, let’s go,” and you’re already pulling him out of his barstool before the words are even fully out. His hand goes to your elbow to steady you as your feet meet the ground, and you can’t help but give him a small laugh. “Are you okay?” Just making sure.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sweetheart. Are you?” His gaze is so warm. 

“Yes.” And you can’t help but smile widely up at him. He gives you a huff of laugh through a half crooked smile that looks a little bit like the sliver of the moon when it’s nothing but a silver crescent in the sky, hand wrapping entirely around your bicep to tug you closer. You feel a little bit out of control when you slide your hand over his belly, and his eyes go immediately dark and molten, rubbing slowly up his chest. He makes a deep, rough sound, low in his throat. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He pulls you along behind him, and as you’re making your way together out the door, you hear the sound of Anna whooping and whistling loudly behind you right before the bar door slams shut. 

He tugs you along behind him, and then passes you gently in his hands to walk in front of him as he weaves through the crowded parking lot, his wide chest, smoldering hot through his clothes, pressed up against your back, big hands wrapped around the soft of your hips. You feel him nosing into the curtain of your hair, smelling you and humming appreciatively, and you realize that he’s steering you towards the back of the parking lot, his familiar truck tucked into the far dark corner, and you twist, suddenly, in his arms, walking backwards and reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands go to the small of your back, bunching your dress in his hands tightly so that you feel the humid night air against the uppermost backs of your thighs. The look in his eyes is so dark, so wanting, and he presses you tight against his chest, your breasts squished up against the hard planes of him. He’s not even looking where he’s going, and your feet are barely touching the ground anymore as you tiptoe backwards, guided by his embrace. One of his hands comes up to grip the curve of your jaw, and then you feel the side of the truck against your back. He hoists you higher up towards his mouth, “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, and before you can even think about saying yes, yes, please, finally, he’s swallowing your breath in his mouth, eyes still slightly open to watch you as he does it, pushing his tongue into the wet gleam of you to taste everything you so desperately want to offer him. He nips at your full bottom lip, then laps at it soothingly, and you moan for him, head falling back on your neck to open further for him, cradled now in the palm of his hand. Your hands smooth down the sides of his neck and then curl to scrape your nails down his stomach, and he groans into you, one thick thigh shoving between your knees. One of his palms slides over your hip to grip the curve of your ass, the other coming up, gentle yet unyielding, to circle your throat and tip your chin up to him as he pulls back to look down at you. The hand on your ass tips your pelvis into his and pulls your core along the broad expanse of his thigh so that your pussy slowly rides the hard muscle, once, twice. “Joel–” you gasp. 

“Back seat,” he orders, tugging the truck door open and hoisting you inside. Are you really about to let this man fuck you in the back seat of his truck in a crowded parking lot? Yes, yes, you are. He follows in after you, and then slams the door shut behind him, encasing the both of you in this quiet, paused moment before he’s pulling you forward to straddle his lap, spreading his legs wide to widen your own stance perched atop him. You listen to the sound of your panting breaths as he runs his hands over your curves, squeezing and kneading as he goes, and you plant your palms on his strong chest, smoothing them down over his belly, reaching the line of his belt to tuck them inside, he growls low, leans forward to lick at your throat and you feel the tug of his fingers at the tie of your wrap dress, then the pull of the fabric as he bares you for his eyes. You pop the first few buttons of his shirt as his wet mouth moves down the thrumming line of your neck, over the wing of your clavicle to the tops of your breasts where he pulls back to take you in. You’re wearing a soft pink lace bra and a matching thong, and as his eyes move down the length of you, the fire already smoldering within seems to ricochet up to a burning inferno. There is something about the look in his eyes, compared to before, compared to the usual look, that is even more thrilling than just the fact of him gazing upon your naked body. He’s always so serious, melancholy and sad and straightforward, in a way. But taking him in like this, the way he’s looking at you now like he wants nothing more than to devour you, to push inside of you, it makes it all the headier. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, look at you,” he murmurs, smoothes his hand over your breasts, thumb catching and flicking at your nipple, down the soft swell of your belly, stopping at the little bow at the front of your thong. He pushes the sleeve of your dress over one shoulder and tugs you forwards, you feel him lift the back of your dress over the curve of your bottom, his hand following the path of bared skin, taking in the tiny scap of lace disappearing between your asscheeks, and he makes a breathy, desperate sound, “Where the fuck are the rest of your panties, little girl?” He pinches the lush of your ass, smoothes his hand down and around to cup you between your legs, and you’re sure he can feel the soaking wet there because you listen to the sound of his gasp, and then he’s pressing there, seeking out your clit and rolling gentle circles to the swollen, throbbing nub. You run your hands up his chest into his hair, gripping there, pressing your nose into the thick curls to take in the scent of him and then running them down the heavy swell of his biceps. He’s so masculine, hard in all the places you’re soft, and wet, for him. His other hand grips your hip to pull you closer, rolling you onto the thick line of his erection, and oh God, he’s big. You can tell just like this, thick and long. Your hand moves to his belt buckle, pulling at the leather and the zipper of his jeans, and then you’re slipping your fingers beneath his boxers and wrapping around the thick heft of him. “Jesus, fuck–” he gasps. 

You fist him tightly, squeezing at the thick root of his cock and sliding up to the fat head to twist there gently. His fingers move beneath the line of your panties, finally making contact with your bare skin. 

“Fucking wet little cunt. Shit, you’re soaked for me, baby.” All you can do is moan as you pull him out of his jeans. He’s heavy in your palm and your mouth waters as you take in the sight of his big cock. Thick and long, wide, drooling head an angry red verging on purple. He hooks the gusset of your panties to the side and slides the underside of the shaft through your swollen lips, pressing the fat tip to your clit, and then sliding along your slit to catch softly at your opening. “Joel, please–” you moan. The head of his cock catches again and again, and you’re so wet, coating his thick length in your slick. He reaches to pull both cups of your bra down, exposing your breasts to his gaze and when his mouth latches onto one peaked nipple, sucking sharply, his other hand wrapping around the heavy weight of your other breast you cry out, fingernails digging into his thick shoulders. You use your grip on his shoulders to drag yourself along the length of his shaft while he sucks and nips at your breasts, pulling back to gently slap the full side of one, sending a jerking shiver through you while he watches how it jiggles and sways for him. “Shit, you’re too fuckin’ pretty,” he groans, and you’re about to come just from this, just the feeling of his thick cock sliding through the lips of your sex, and you tell him so, wet mouth presses to the arch of his ear, you tell him you’re about to come, but he changes the angle, presses his hips up and then the tip of his cock is breaching the dripping mouth of your cunt, stretching you wide to take him and you both pant and gasp, burying your face in his neck as one wide hand presses at the base of your spine, forcing you to take more of that impossible length. You feel the pinch and snap of your thong around your hips as he rips the scrap of lace off of you, and you think you must shake your head or something, make some soft sound because he tuts his tongue in a gentle reprimand, “All of it, baby. The whole thing.” He squeezes your breast, strums at your nipple, presses a feather light kiss to the hinge of your jaw, and you feel your cunt flutter around him, sucking him deeper so that he can wedge that thick cock further inside of you. “Yeah… Fuck, yeah. Just like that, good girl. You asked for this, sweet girl.” You hitch and sob into his neck, clawing at his shoulders as he finally forces you down all the way onto him, buried balls deep in your weeping, fluttering pussy. “Now you’ve gotta take the whole thing, no cryin’” He sounds like he’s spitting the words through clenched teeth, struggling to get them out despite the demand of them. “You’re doing so good,” he whispers, “Taking my big cock in this tiny little cunt.” He kisses your ear, your throat, pulls back to suck on your nipples, all while his hands on your ass start to rock you on his length, working you loose and wet and pliant. 

“Fuck– fuck, Joel–” 

“I know, I know, it’s so much, isn’t it? But you can take it– deep breath, you can take it.” He fucks up into you, holding your hips steady as he feeds you his cock over and over again, and you drip down onto his balls and the leather seat beneath. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Tell me–”

“It’s so– it’s so good. Wanted it so bad–” you slur, wet cheek pressed to his shoulder, you mouth at his neck, little teeth digging into the thick line of muscle so that he’s growling, thrusting up quick and a little painful into your cunt, tip punching right at your cervix. 

“Lemme see you– I’ve gotta see you,” he says suddenly and presses you back. You reach back to plant your hands on his spread knees, arching your back to present yourself to him. His gaze is almost manic, licking over your skin, your bouncing tits as he fucks up into you, the swell of your tummy glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, down finally to the place where he’s fucking in and out of your swollen, blushed cunt, stretched obscenely around the base of him. “You’re so goddamned lucky we’re in a car right now,” he growls. He jerks you back into him, both hands squeezing your ass in each palm and rolling you hard and fast onto his impaling cock, your swollen clit presses into his pelvis on every thrust in, and you feel your cunt pull tight and then go loose as you start to come around him. Yes, yes, yes, fuck, yes – just like that. His cock kissing your g-spot with every press inside. You sob into his neck, pull at his hair, scratch at his shoulders and neck as you gush around him. 

He surges up then, orgasm not entirely abated, and flips you over onto your back, laying you down on the truck’s bench. He pulls his dripping cock out of your still grasping clutch to kneel down on the floorboard, hulking form entirely too large to fit in the tight space, and drags the broad, flat of his tongue through your drenched sex, tasting the echoes and throbs of your climax, sucking your clit and your come into his mouth while you sob up into the roof of his truck. He pushes your knees up to your chest, displaying you for himself entirely and devours you. “Fuck, there ain’t enough room in this fuckin’ truck to eat your cunt the way I need to,” his accent suddenly heavier, a sharper twang cutting off the end of his words, lost to the taste of you and the feel of you and the scent of you. You lean up onto your elbows, sweaty face burning bright hot with shyness as you take in the sight of his mouth wrapped around your clit, lapping at your leaking sex. He looks up at you, reaches up to wrap one hand around your breast, one of your legs is hanging down the length of his back over his shoulder, the other hooked at the bend of his elbow to keep you open and spread wide for him, and the two of you hold gazes for a moment. His eyes flash with something… different to desire or lust, something more in tune with whatever it is that’s happening here between the two of you right now, something more than just a quick fuck. You whisper his name, and his eyes flash again, predatory and desperate, and he’s pushing up, the wet sound of his mouth unlatching from your pussy and crawling back up onto the seat bench, pressing his slick wet mouth to yours and licking into you, sloppy. “Taste–” he orders, he pulls back, fists the root of his cock and feeds it back into your gaping cunt, “That’s what it tastes like when you come for me.” His voice is a growl, something like a commandment or a promise, something else that hums beneath the mere words, something that says this is happening again, I need this to happen again, I’ve wanted this longer than I can say. He fucks into the very end of you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, let him maneuver and manhandle you to his liking so that both of your ankles lay limply over his shoulders, pressed entirely in half for him to pound into you. 

“Open your fucking eyes,” he pants. “Look at me,” he begs. You do, and you watch a bead of sweat roll slowly down his temple, over the curve of his jaw to the point of his chin, and then drip and splash down onto the swell of your breast, seep into your skin. 

He’s so deep like this, right at the heart of you, and it hurts and it feels good and you can’t help but think about the next time already, hope that this can happen again. “Yes, Joel,” you gasp, “Please, don’t stop.”

“Yeah?” He grits, lifting one hand to hold on to the edge of the window above your head, the other gripping at your ass to pull you onto him harder. “Yeah, just like that– Taking me so well, baby. Taking the whole thing like such a good girl.” He’s so big, maybe too big, and he pounds into your cunt, forces you to take the entire thing, thick thighs bracketing your frame, cock punching at your womb over and over again. You feel cock drunk, Joel drunk, and you turn your face to press into the back of the seat crying, telling him you’re about to come again. 

“God, yes, yes, you’re such a good girl. Come on my cock again, one more time for me.” His thrusts speed up, harsher, stronger and he’s saying your name while you sob out his, while you leak around him. “Hey,” he grips your jaw, gives your head a little shake, “Hey, baby– you gotta tell me where. Where can I come? Inside? Can I come inside?” It sounds, a little bit, like he’s beginning. 

You nod your head, yes, gaze delirious, unfocused, the swell of his anchoring bicep is so thick and distracting, and you start to milk his thrusting cock inside of you, muscles squeezing tight, fluttering loose – please, please, please, come inside of me, please, I want it so bad. He groans, grits a curse, your name, something that sounds like gratitude, and then he’s filling you, thick cock kicking and jerking and spitting his come right at the mouth of your womb, inciting your own orgasm to throb again, again, harder, deeper. 

-

He drops his head to the damp crook of your shoulder, takes in the heady scent of your sweat and sex, licks a path up the side of your throat. He’s careful not to ask you to bear the full, heavy weight of him, and he pulls his hips back, shivering at the sensitive slide of his spent cock falling from your wet cunt. He sits back, grasps your knees to keep you spread and watches the flutter and clench of your hole as the thick white leak of his spend starts to drool out of you. He gives a low, appreciative hum, and then bends forwards to press his face into your tummy, nuzzling there softly. Your hands come to his hair, panting chest heaving, and he mouths and sucks at the skin of your stomach, the undersides of your breasts as you both catch your breaths. He looks up, then, suddenly, a thought occurring to him, “You’re going to have dinner with me, right?” Voice a little frantic. 

You give him a slow, lovely smile, eyes sparkling, “Think we’ve gone and done things a little out of order here, haven’t we?”

He frowns in mock severity, then presses his face back into your tummy, another soft kiss, and shakes his head slowly, “No,” another kiss, this one to your hip, “Not at all. This morning counts as breakfast together.” He looks up to give you a quick, boyish grin. “How I see it, that’s actually an extreme dedication to order. Breakfast, sex, dinner.”

You sigh, laugh softly, “You know… I’m actually a little hungry right now,” you say contemplatively.

“Burgers? Fries?”

“Milkshake?”

“Well, we’ve gotta have somethin’ to dip ‘em in, right?”

“Of course.” Your fingers twist in his hair, pulling him up towards your mouth, “You’re so smart.”

“Very true. You’ve gotta stick with me now, I’ll teach you everything I know.” A kiss, another and another. 

He rests his face back on your belly, looking up at you, and you run the pad of your thumb over the fan of his lashes, and he feels so happy. 

-

It’s been months since then… and still even now, when he looks at you, all he knows is that he’s sure you saved his fucking life. 

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog : Follow and turn on notifications for new fics!

[dailyadventureprompts]

The Mechanics of Baldur's Gate 3

As someone who's constantly tinkering with the mechanics of my favourite RPG, I LOVE a lot of what Larian has done with D&D; not only accurately translating the base system but improving upon in ways I never thought of.

Playing BG3 feels good, and I want to see how much of their work I can adapt for my own table. As such, here's a breakdown of a bunch of little tweaks they've made to 5e (taken from the bg3 wiki) and whether or not I think they're a good fit for regular pencil and paper d&d.

Shove is not a part of the attack action. It is a bonus action available to all characters. Shove only pushes the target back an amount that depends on the shover's strength and the target's weight. It normally does not knock them prone unless they are shoved off a high ledge.

This might be THE best design Larian implemented and is instantly going in my games. Bonus action shoving is such a natural addition to combat, gives so many more tactical options. My one protest is that I am NOT calculating the weight of every creature and object ( mainly because I'm terrible at guessing weights for things) so I'd go with the distance calculation based on the creature's size and con score.

Gaining inspiration based on backgrounds

Gee, a mechanical reward for roleplaying your character, one that's way more straight forward than the DM arbitrated "ideals, bonds, flaws," system. From now on I'm going to give each of my players an upfront " You gain inspiration when you ______" note on their character sheet based on their backgrounds.

The party is limited to two short rests per long rest. Short rests restore each ally's hit points by an amount equal to half their maximum HP (rounded down). There is no hit die rolling. Long rests require camp supplies, which are food items that must be looted or purchased. In towns you will be able to rest at an inn.

This is a mixed bag for me only because I like hitdie as a mechanical abstract and I don't want to see them removed. Tbh I wish more mechanics interacted with them and they were called something abstract like "stamina" or something. That said I ADORE the camp supplies idea because it not only gives you something minor to reward exploration with besides GP. On the otherhand tracking all those supplies without the game's inventory management would be tedious as hell so it'd need to be highly simplified.

I especially like the idea of limited short rests/supplies in larger survival based adventures where time isn't at a premium like it is inside a dungeon.

If you hide while not in a creature's sight cone, you automatically succeed. If you try to hide while in a creature's sight cone, you automatically fail. If you are hidden and enter a creature's sight cone, you must roll stealth against the creature's passive perception. This may be a straight roll, advantage, or disadvantage, based on the creature's senses and the level of lighting. Some creatures with different senses such as blindsight may follow different rules

Congrats on fixing stealth rolls Larian. No notes.

LOTS more opinions under the cut.

When a creature is at least 10 ft above their target and makes a ranged attack, they receive a +2 bonus to the attack roll due to high ground. When a creature is at least 10 ft below their target and makes a ranged attack, they receive a -2 penalty to the attack roll due to low ground.

This is fine, and quite inline with a lot of fixes I've seen for flanking rules. I'm fine with a little extra battlefield math in order to make moments of advantage (spending inspiration, reckless attacking etc) shine.

The game does not stop a character from casting a leveled spell with both an action and a bonus action

Mixed on this, on one hand I've played enough clerics to know how much it sucks to have to use your bonus action to do a necessary spell and then be stuck with a so-so cantrip or melee attack for standard. On the other hand there's some design balance issues at play here.

Help is an Action. This ability allows characters to aid an ally in combat and remove negative Conditions. Using the help action on a downed ally brings them back to 1 hit point and leaves them prone.

Love the idea of help doing multiple things AND being a solution to minor status conditions. and giving everyone the ability to help means I can be a lot more aggressive when it comes to knocking character to 0. if I had to further patch this, I'd say that this also allows for a medicine check to allow a creature to spend a hitdie when they're downed, or allows the helping character to make a "SNAP OUT OF IT, WE'RE YOUR FRIENDS" charisma roll for charmed allies.

Jumping is a bonus action which consumes 10 ft of movement speed. With a Strength score of 10 or below, a creature can jump 15 ft, and this increases by 5 ft for every two points in strength above 10. At 20 Str a creature may spend 10 ft of movement speed and a bonus action to jump, and can travel 35 ft effectively increasing the creature's movement speed by up to 25 feet.

This, combined with the prone rules (see below) is JUICY, as it allows for risk-reward battlefield mobility . That said I'd add some caveats/clarifications: The jump always succeeds in moving you, but if you're taking damage, jumping up or down more than 10ft, or into rough terrain you need to make an acrobatics check not to beef it and fall prone (ending your turn). Your jump is likewise a buffer for how far you can willingly fall before taking damage, but if you fall after your jump, you always land prone.

Weapon actions, 'nough said.

It's more complexity than I'd give to first time players but HOT DAMN if it isn't a great idea to give the martial characters some options instead of just making the same attacks over and over again. I've actually been sockpiling 3rd party versions of this for a while now and I can't wait to add them in.

All The conditions are great:

Blinded: In addition to the other effects, ranged attacks are limited to 15 ft range. Blinded creatures can also make opportunity attacks.

Frightened: Creatures which are frightened are unable to move at all (rather than being unable to move toward the source of their fear), unless the effect instead makes them "fearful" which gives them the frightened effect as well as making them flee.

Prone: Being prone gives disadvantage on Strength and Dexteritysaving throws, attacks against a prone creature have advantage out to a range of 10 ft rather than 5 ft, and ranged attacks against a prone creature do not have disadvantage. Your character cannot do anything while prone. Starting the turn while prone will cause you to automatically use half your movement to stand up. Becoming prone during your turn automatically ends your turn.

Wet: This is a new condition that prevents the character from burning (e.g. from Searing Smite) and grants resistance to fire damage, but also makes the creature vulnerable to lightning and cold damage

[yaut-jaknowit]

I love ur writing so much like 😻 ur stories are like the best I’ve seen.

Anywaysss simple request I think ?

Human female hunter , is a part of a clan on yautja prime, known for their skill with staffs/spears, is respected amongst many other hunters, while also owning a rather big snake that hangs out on readers neck/body a lot, good use for poisoning the prey, Gawtin caught word of the said reader is rather curious of her. Later on Gawtin runs into reader hunting on a planet that reader kills a queen xeno. (Reader wears xenomorph skin as armor to protect themselves from their acidic blood) and Gawtin has catched feeling for said reader

Venom

Pairing: Gawtin (female Yautja) x F!Reader

Word Count: 3755 (not ten but seven, close enough)

Summary: Born to human parents yet found by a female Yautja who raised you as her own wasn't destiny. Life finds away. Raised to be a hunter from the moment you could crawl, you sought out the life as a warrior. You grew to the top and live amongst other hunters. Gawtin hears your name in rumors and couldn't help her curious nature to hunt you down.

Author Note: Even if it was a simple request, I never make it easy on myself. I'll write ten pages for a two sentence ask.

P.s. Heads up, I'm on the other side of the US right now for a vacation. I'll try to get another post out this week but I can't promise anything. I'll be sipping soda and relaxing in either a pool or a beach. Thanks for your patience!

Masterlist

Ao3

Different clans will specialize in different fighting styles. They have to. They have to adapt to the path craved for them in this universe. Spears are known mostly along the fishing and jungle clans. Bows are also used within the jungle clans and the forest. Machetes for the forest. As for those who live on the freezing poles, traps are their chosen weapon.

In the one of the clans that resides in along the coasts, a ooman lives within a species that hunts them. To hear of such news was jolting. Yet intrigued the moss green Yautja. Let alone, rumor has it the ooman has a pet of their own.

Though, not from Yautja Prime, the creature was rather deadly with one single bite. Enough venom could take down a fully grown Yautja. No wonder the ooman has such a pet under its care. Yautja Prime was a dangerous place, even to its native inhabitants. Everyone is born with the instinct to sleep with one eye open. The ooman had to use what it had to survive on such a planet.

This ooman, from word of mouth, is respected amongst her clan. A ooman with respect from a Yautja, let alone a clan size. However did she accomplish this? Gawtin prayed to Paya for the chance their paths to cross.

Paya is merciful to answer a prayer once in a while.

.

The atmosphere that struck you in the face was similar to the lands you called home. Warm, hot, high humidity barreled down on your form the moment the ramp lowered. You breathed in through your mask for the semi fresh air that filtered in.

This was a hunt you’ve trained long and hard for. Years upon years of harsh, tiring workouts that had you collapsing onto furs at the end of it. Only to wake up hours later to rinse and repeat.

In the clan you call home, you are a respected, blooded warrior that has earned their title like any other Yautja who hunts. But this, this here will change things back home. The head of a Queen Xenomorph will forever have your name in their scrolls. With the addition of the skull, you will be have a better status, further upholding your mother’s name.

From the bits and pieces you remember so long ago, she had to fight tooth and nail to keep you. You knew you weren’t like them. It was a quick realization that stung as a child. You were treated different, nothing more a worm that didn’t offer much besides being bait.

Those that once looked down on you will now have to look up at you. The skull of a Queen will be strapped to your back and carried off your ship. Your head held-you stopped yourself from getting ahead. Don’t count the skulls before they are obtained. Or else it’ll be your downfall. Cocky Yautjas usually either lose their personality trait in two different ways: death or they learn.

Your name won’t join the ever-growing pile. It’ll be a name Yautjas will learn about in history scrolls.

From the weeks you’ve done your fair share of research about this hive alone, there’s a reason no one has taken it. Tucked away in tight tunnels that a Yautja wouldn’t dare attempt to squeeze themselves into, hid away a smaller species of Xenomorph. They’ve evolved this way in a short span of a year by what you’ve read.

Yet, the queen hasn’t been seen ever. No one knows if she’s also changed in size due to this evolutionary trait or if she’s the original queen who dug her way into this tunnel system.

Many have tried with solo teams and hunting parties of twenty to bring down this hive. No one has succeeded. Yautjas are just too stocky and large to fit in these narrow holes.

But you? Are the perfect size to get past the first entrance and fight your way to the queen. This was a fight you had to plan every step, every breath, every thought carefully or else you could die. No one wanted this hive, but you did. You will succeed and return home. You will.

With your gear strapped secure to different parts of your body, you strode out of the ship and stepped along the dark, volcanic rocks. It crunched at every step you made, alerting enemies to your position.

The sharp rocks clawed at the bottom of your durable shoes but couldn’t pierce the finely woven material. You’ve done your research and for every needed supply to have a fighting chance of surviving.

From the ship and up to the closest recorded entrance, it was only a short ten-minute hike up. You wanted your ship close in case of a retreat and reform of a new plan. Said entrance was small. A manageable size for you to crawl into on your hands and knees. Just enough space for you to sit back on your haunches and use the collapsible spear attached to your hip when you’re attacked.

In the quite warm, morning, you stood still, tilted your head back. The sounds of an empty location echoed back at you. A gentle breeze ruffled your hair but didn’t bring any concerning scents with it. That didn’t mean you could relax. Anytime you were on a hunt, you had to be ready for anything to come your way. The only time you’ve been able to receive some peace and quiet is traveling in your craft. The hum of the engines always lured you to sleep.

A few buttons were activated on your wrist gauntlet. The hunt begins.

The trek from base of your ship to a hole further up the mountain would’ve proven difficult for a novice. You planned every step of the way up, mapping what ways were easier to get to what was thought to be the main chamber. The least you knew about the inside was that it opened back up. The mountain hollow from once being an ancient volcano that once blew.

Your ears strained for every little sound, every pebble that shifts in what looked to be a wasteland. The coast was clear. You knelt down and inspected the hole thoroughly before starting the crawl inside.

Every muscle in your body is prepared to launch if the need arises. Your hand ready to spring three moderate sized blades out from your gauntlet. All of it coated in a mixture that protected it from the acid spray of a Xenomorph.

About fifty feet into this tunnel, you had to flick up a HUD from your mask to cover your eyes. The area that once was blanketed in darkness turned all different shades of green.

No movement ahead of you. A good sign in your eyes.

Before you left the tunnel, you paused and timidly peeked out to scan the larger tunnel. It reeked of recent activity. You didn’t like that but knew it was part of the situation and adapted to it.

Slick, sticky substance coated the walls. You peered at it and knew instantly what was. A helper in the situation. You used a hand to scoop some of it off and began to cover every inch of your body. It was disgusting to feel this latch onto your skin but it was a necessary evil to keep yourself alive. You gave a quiet huff and followed the mental map of areas known to the archives. These tunnels larger and allowed you the chance to stand fully.

No one knew where the Queen’s chamber was. You were here not only to find it but destroy it in the process. Everything was planned up till then. From there, as you’ve learned, your species is well known for: adapting. You were to adapt the plan at the end and claim the skull as your own.

Skittering of claws had you pausing and lowered yourself, ears picking up every little sound. Something was coming up behind you. You fought the urge to instantly go into fighting mode and pressed yourself against the sticky walls.

Hard meats aren’t technically blind but they don’t have eyes to see the way you see. Smell and hearing is a large factor to finding prey. Also, a use of echolocation helps them perceive the area in a different light. You’ve learned that the imagine they create in their mind is a general picture. Still blurry and unclear but enough information to move about. That’s why you took to smooshing yourself against a wall.

On your HUD, a bright, hard meat shape patrolled past you, tail posed. You stayed calm and watched the creature move on and down the tunnel you traversed through. With a breath of relief, you continued onward in the same direction. The gunk stuck to your skin was a horrible feeling that was hard to ignore. For the sake of your life, you are able to push the thought down and focus on your predicament: finding the Queen’s chamber. If only you had more information…

The longer you trekked through the tunnels, the more uneasy you grew. At any point, one of the Xenomorphs could catch you slacking. Then, you would lose all the hard work you’ve put into this life and join Cetanu. That’s something you refused to let happen.

This didn’t seem like a large hive with numbers but the amount of tunnels that led to the outside world or to different chambers was astonishing. In its prime, this place would’ve been amazing to see and study.

Today, it would fall.

Some time later, you stumbled across the largest of the chambers. Instantly, you knew this was the Queen’s chamber. Not only the size of the place itself but due to all the drones gathered here. Then, a massive form appeared on your HUD, slow in movement.

The Queen herself.

Your eyes widened behind the screen covering them. You could confidently answer the fact this Queen was the original queen from when the hive was established around a year ago. Her large body easily dwarfed her smaller than average drones that cared for her.

For a moment, you heart thundered in your ears. Not from fear. No, from the adrenaline beginning to filling your veins. You may not have been born a Yautja but the love for the hunt still exists in your blood. A grin grew on your features, hidden behind the mask that covers the lower portion of your face.

Careful, calculated, controlled movements allowed you to grasp the collapsible spear at your side. Any closer to the would draw the attention of a drone to you. You held the shrunken weapon in your hand and watched the group.

From what you could speculate in a language you didn’t understand, they were none the wiser to your presence. The goop used to hide your scent worked wonders to keep the hive calm.

You prepared for when the hive would be alerted to your presence the moment you stepped closer. A drone paused and turned its head towards you. It tilted its elongated skull and made a short screeching noise. Not alerting, just curious. You paused once more and could only wait.

When it opened its mouth again, you instinctively opened your spear and threw it at the hard meat. Before it could release a horrifying call, the sound died with it. The weapon now out of your hand and pierced into the skull of your prey. You unleashed the three blades attached to your gauntlet and rushed forward to gather the lost spear. You wrenched it free and began the berate of relentless attacks on the newly alerted hive.

A screech sounded from the largest of the beasts that lived within the quarters. You sliced the throat of a Xenomorph. A spray of acidic blood arching out and landing straight on the armor that protected you. A mixture between past battled against the very species you aimed to kill today and metal shielded the weaker parts of your body. The blood hit in varies areas, landing mostly on the armor. The pain that flared to blazing life only fueled your instinct for the hunt.

Claws raked across the air you stood a second before. You were moving and swung out the three blades to slice the thickly scaled beast the towered over you. More blood threatened to sear off your skin and dripped off the armor that kept you free. The Queen roared out and wiped its deadly tail around. Her long legs stepping back to get you withing biting range.

Drones came to her aid. In swift, deadly waves, you used your trusted weapons to keep the drones at safe distance away that didn’t have you ending up dead.

One of the tinier ones was able to push past your defenses and latched onto the break of your armor. A joint in your elbow and slightly above it was free from either the hard scales or metal that shielded you. Teeth bit harshly into the free chunk and flesh. You yowled in pain and immediately ran your three blades through its skull. The little vermin died with its fangs still buried deep into your arm.

Anger fueled you.

The distraction brought the group closer than you possibly could deal with. Claws raked at armor and exposed skin. Red blood crying from the spilt skin. You gritted your teeth. The spear in your hand was used in a terrifying arch.

Those that pushed past your defenses were battered and sliced by the deadly end of your weapon. They retreated and were already testing what they could do to get through again.

You tore the small creature off of your arm and threw it at one of the larger ones. Blood poured freely from the newly created wound. The worst one of them all.

Above you, the Queen snarled swiped at you with one of her spindly hands. You narrowly dodged a killing blow and rolled. Out of the roll, you reared your spear up into the exposed belly of the Queen. She choked out a roar and moved faster than you could perceive.

Once on your feet, the very next second, you found your back to a wall. All of the air rushed out of your lungs. You sputtered to gain new oxygen through your mask. It left you vulnerable for a second too long.

A massive hand pressed your firmly to the ground. You snarled once you gained enough air and glared at the hide crown of the Queen’s head came into view. She opened her mouth. The inner mouth slithered out. She hissed a deadly tone into the space that could be your last.

The raging drones behind her slowed down in their vicious actions since the threat had been contained. But, you weren’t going down.

It some strength but you were able to shimmy your forearms underneath your chest. With your legs, you started to push against her bony hand. It worked. Just enough to rest on your elbow and jab your three blades into her wrist. The Queen howled and reared back, opening you back to the battle.

Your discarded spear was snatched from the ground and wielded once more. You pinned a glare on all the drones that surrounded you. They all sounded their cried of offence at you attacking their queen. You brushed off the calls and returned to battle.

In a mess of acid blood and red blood yourself, you returned your attention back to the Queen. Behind her, her tail snapped wildly. You twirled your spear and pointed it at the largest of them all. She swiped at the air before her, challenging your dominance in hand. You cared less about the challenge before sprinting forward, thrusting the spear forward.

It left your hand and soared through the air. It pierced the thick hide that protected her upper shoulder and rendered the limb useless now. You stayed moving in full force and leaped up. Your other weapon rammed into spot lower than the spear. You kept the same momentum upwards and used the spear as leverage.

Now on top of the Queen, you shoved the same three blades drenched in acid blood into her back. She gave another cry. You turned the blades a certain direction and pulled them through her scales more. Then, her body fell to the ground.

A special spot along her spine had been severed, rendering her paralyzed to the spot. You grinned once more behind the mask and leaped off of her back. A new wave of hard meats came to intercept you.

The battle ended. You stood victorious, surrounded by a sea of dead Xenomoprhs and a Queen who would not move. You knelt before the large beast and placed a hand on her expanse crest. “I thank you for your skull and what new titles it will bring me,” I praised the creature before moving around and driving the spear into her throat.

The life in her body fading until her heart beat one last time.

A new silence entered the chambers and left you feeling… watched. The hairs on the back of your neck rose as you scanned the area, changing the different vision modes on your HUD.

Up top in one of the larger tunnels, a blazing yellow figure appeared. From the overwhelming scent of the dead Xenomorphs and their smell alone, you couldn’t tell what this thing was. You growled and positioned yourself into a fighting stance, ready to take it on. Anything to defend the trophy you had earned fair and square.

The figure stood up, forced to hunch over. It dropped down into the chamber with barely a sound and stood a safe distance away. The form itself you recognized as a Yautja but not the being itself. Still on end, you kept your weapons up.

She, you got a whiff of her scent, stopped and held her head a respectful distance up. Not in a challenging way nor submissive. She had to be observing you the same way you did to her.

This new Yautja was average sized for a female. Tresses hung from her head freely. Your eyes darted without moving any other muscle to the recent kill at your side. Was she here for this? Was she mad that you had gotten the kill before her? And the fact she was in here. No other Yautja has ventured this far without meeting a terrible end.

Yet, here she stood.

Due to the fact all you could see was her body heat, you couldn’t tell what clan she represents. You didn’t trust her, already knowledgeable about how many Yautjas feel about oomans. The weapons in your hold never turning away from the possible threat.

She took a step forward. Only one. “Paya has answered my prayer to allow me to meet such a creature as yourself,” her voice velvety but with a harsh undertone. Your skin pebbled with bumps. “I have heard of your existence on Yautja Prime.”

It was an infamous situation of your existence. Some clans allow oomans such as yourself to live amongst them. Some offer better treatments than others. Yours, clearly, allows you life but only if you live as one of them. Since you could remember, that’s all you’ve known. But it’s a lifestyle you would never give up. You felt born with the need to hunt like many of your clan.

To ensure she didn’t see you either as a threat or submissive, you kept your chin level and eyes neutral pinned on her. “Who are you?” You wanted an introduction. Some sort of clue on who she was and why she was here. From her first words to you, it seems like this was planned in her eyes.

“My name is Gawtin, ooman,” she answered freely. You felt a smidge better at her willingness to answer your questions. But you refused to let your guard fall.

“And why are you here?” You also wanted to ask how she got in here. You’re the only survivor to get in here. You could only reason with the fact you had distracted the group for her to make her through one of the larger tunnels towards the top of the mountain.

Her mandibles clicked together. “You are infamous on Yautja Prime. Your name is whispered among clans both in good and bad tones. A Yautja grows curious to meet such a creature to capture a rumor.” You already knew yourself to be known on Yautja Prime. Oomans aren’t a rarity but to live on their planet was. Either as a pet or a warrior.

“What is it to you?” you snapped, unsure of her intentions still. Even around those in your clan, you knew you had to keep your guard up. Any of them would be more than willing to claim your skull for their own collection.

This time, Gawtin stepped closer into your space. You hunkered down, muscles taut as you readied your weapon. She didn’t react and stayed that step closer to you. “I would like to offer a chance to hunt with you.”

Now, that took you off guard. “You want to hunt with me?” you reiterate for her. Puzzlement filled your voice. You stood up taller and tilted your head at her.

“Yes. That is what I said.” You kept your gaze on her, studying all the details possible with what the HUD allowed you to see. She showed no challenge, no sign of a threat towards you. She was polite and calm. Plus, the opportunity to hunt with someone outside of your clan was a chance you didn’t dare give up.

You dipped your head. “I’m willing to let you join in on one of my hunts.” You didn’t want to sound excited and kept it cool and level. Don’t act like an unblooded.

“Good. I shall meet you outside once you’ve collected your trophies to discuss our hunt.” With the ended, she turned on her heel and strutted to a nearby tunnel. You watched her get down and crawl her way in before disappearing. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

With her gone, you returned your gaze on the dead Queen at your feet. Not only was this a turning point in your life, but the fact a Yautja from a different clan asked for you to go on a hunt with her. Your life was becoming ten times more interesting now.

[cadere-art]

What does agriculture and typical plants and animals used in food look like in different regions and cultures?

For the sake of brevity, my answer will only cover this part (but don't worry, I'm working on the plants (and invertebrates) as well) :

VERTEBRATE LIVESTOCK OF UANLIKRI

Thanks to a wide range of environments and intercontinental trade, Uanlikri boasts a wide variety of vertebrate livestock, some domesticated locally, others brought along by settlers from the other continental masses. Most livestock on Uanlikri are ceratopsians (some more highly derived than others).

Caviþ

Pronounced chavith. Caviþ are a highly derived species of ceratopsians originating from the Basin region. The wild species still exist, roaming the southern Basin plains in great hordes.

For the most part, caviþ are kept as beasts of burden and for their meat and leather. In most locales, they are unpopular compared to O'ohu, which are more powerful, meatier, more docile, and have more offspring at once. Nevetheless, keeping caviþ has its avantages: caviþ are smaller, hardy, tolerant of crowding, and produce rough but warm pelts.

In general, caviþ are too small to be ridden by adult antioles, but not for the Apinaat and Abimaat, two peoples of pigmies who make their living on caviþback across the southern Basin plains and on the Matar Peninsula. For the Apinaat and Abimaat, caviþ, wild and domestic, are their whole livelihood. Their use of caviþ as mounts gives them an incomparable edge in warfare and has earned them a fearsome reputation.

Wek

Wek are one of the few non-ceratopsian livestock originating from Uanlikri. They were first domesticated in coastal areas of the Pwetitwì range from large gull-like birds, and spread from there to most northern coastal areas of Uanlikri. Wek are meaty and adaptable birds kept for their eggs, plumage, and guano. They require access to open water to thrive, but accept saltwater and freshwater alike. They are primarily kept in coastal areas, as well as along the Koramme river and Basin Great Lakes, where the slow-moving waters suit them fine.

Kabi

Kabi, a guinea pig sized ceratopsian, are the most widely kept livestock on Uanlikri. The kabi in the picture was enlarged for ease of viewing: the vast majority of kabi breeds are much smaller, though giant breeds do exist. Kabi are a multi-purpose livestock: they are bred for their meat, abundant eggs, soft patterned pelts, and companionship. Kabi are extremely adaptable and very tolerant of crowding. Their ease of keeping in urban environments has made them ubiquitous through all the cities of the continent.

There are hundreds of kabi breeds and landraces on the continent. Kabi have a tendency to establish themselves as feral pests as well as livestock, where natural selection by the environment encourages the development of landraces best adapted to the local climate. They also make excellent pets due to their highly social nature, and many lines of kabi are bred purely for good temperament and pleasing (though sometimes extreme) appearance. Kabi are also ubiquitous overseas: it is unclear where they were first domesticated, but most theories point towards dwarf and standard kabi originating from one domestication event on Uanlikri, and red-leg kabi originating from another domestication event overseas, possibly of a different but related species: this would explain some of the difficulties in breeding dwarf and standard kabi to red-leg kabi.

Tsut

Tsut were one of the livestock species brought along by the Senq Ha Empire, conquerors and settlers of the Western Peninsula. These diminutive therizinosaurids were selected through millenia for an extremely downy, frizzy coat which can be sheared and spun like wool. Of all Senq Ha livestock, tsut were the ones to find the fastest and most widespread adoption, only limited by their destructive browsing habits and preference for hilly terrains and cool weathers. Tsut down revolutionized the world of textiles in Uanlikri, where spun-down fibres were previously very rare and very expensive, requiring capture and shearing of wild animals with very little suitable fibre.

Tsut are primarily raised for their fiber but also provide meat and more importantly crop-milk. Consumption of crop-milk is slow to catch in communities not descended from the Senq Ha, but the Senq Ha's people use crop milk abundantly, using it fresh or processed in dozens of different ways.

Llekme

Llekme were domesticated in the Northern peninsulas of Uanlikri from a species related to the caviþ. They share many of the caviþ issues and advantages, being hardy but temperamental. However, contrarily to the caviþ, they are an extremely popular livestock among both sedentary and nomadic populations Uanlikri's north. There, they are used as beasts of burdens and pulling animals of limited power as well as for their meat. For the desert nomads of the Atashir, llekme provide essential help in carrying their tents and tools; in cities, they are often used as pulling animals, working alone or in teams to pull small carts and coaches.

Hêtâ

Hêtâ are family of highly derived ceratopsians, including a dozen species and subspecies on the mainland and a few endemic island species. They are, in truth, not yet a domestic species. All species of hêtâ are game animals highly appreciated for their ornemental feathers and delicious meat, and there have been several attempts to domesticate various species of mainland hêtâ, none of which have been successful. Mainland hêtâ have extremely nervous dispositions, are prone to dying from stress, and mostly fail to reproduce in captivity: they rarely breed, and when they do, they most often do not provide parental care, leading to the death of the chicks.

This said, there is an ongoing project on the Ojame archipelago to restore and domesticate the near-extinct Ojame hêtâ. The Ojame hêtâ is endemic to the archipelago. Due to the absence of large predators on the archipelago, it has evolved to be larger and much less fearful than mainland hêtâ, but was driven to near extinction by hunting and the introduction of larger, bolder breeds of oujabe [dog analogue] from the mainland and of continental hêtâ imported for use as wild game.

The failure of mainland domestication attempts and a joint desire to preserve and profit from the Ojame hêtâ has led to a unique, unusually coordinated project to domesticate and reestablish the Ojame hêtâ. In a rare show of goodwill and collaboration, this project is shared by both Wetki and Ranaite communities on the archipelago. The Ojame hêtâ is thought to be a promising source of meat and ornemental feathers as its population levels rise and stabilized. Successful captive reproduction has been achieved, and semi-domesticated captive population are being reintroduced to Êrar, the archipelago's largest island where the hêtâ had been completely eradicated.

Wagwacguk

The wagwacguk (wag-wash-guk) is a wild animal living as familial herds in the tundras south of the Kantishian, with a domestic subspecies of marginal range in the lands of the Daghwa-Igdø and the Kantishian High Plateau. It is a large, extremely hardy animal with a warm, plush coat and thick leather. For the Daghwa-Igdø, wagwacguk are their main livelihood. One month per year, they feast on the fresh meat of wagwacguk calves, culling their herds as the first dayfrosts touch their lands; the later kills are preserved by smoking and freezing. The rest of the year, wagwacguk blood provides them with most of the protein in their diet. Wagwacguk pelts, leather, guts, horn and hooves are the materials involved in most of their material culture.

Though domestic wagwacguk are most closely associated with the Daghwa-Igdø, they are also kept by the Oubixwø-øi of the Kantishian high plateau as part of the Oubixwø-oi's diverse survival strategies.

O'ohu

O'ohu are domestic hadrosaurs named, in most regions where they are kept, after their loud and haunting cry. They are the largest and second-most widespread livestock on Uanlikri. Where they are kept, they are invaluable for their work as beasts of burden: plowing fields, pulling carts, carrying charges of all kinds. They are essential to the work of peasants and armies alike, and they are surprisingly fast. Historically, they have often been used in active combat, pulling war chariots. They cannot be ridden: their back ridge is too fragile to bear the weight of a rider and their alternatively bipedal and quadrupedal gait makes balancing a saddle impossible. They are also used for meat, blood, leather, and other byproducts. Their finely scaled and patterned leather is considered especially attractive, and their hollow horns are often made into music instruments. In many cultures, O'ohu grastroliths are considered to have medicinal properties as the ultimate digestive aid, and are often sold at a considerable markup by gastrolith merchants.

[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

[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: Bittersweet Futures

Today’s recommendation is all about games that bring us into speculative futures, from the highly plausible to the completely fantastical. You’ll find giant bugs, machine animals, and eco punk anti-fascists in this collection of games.

Autostede, by Kettle and Clock.

You are a Drover. Your mechanical companion, your “Autostede,” is all that keeps you safe against the deadly plants and roving wild stedes in the wilderness between towns. And you keep them running. Together, you can take on the world, which is good because the world is a dangerous place and its your job to keep the small, separated towns safe and connected.

Autostede is a tabletop roleplaying game Illuminated by LUMEN in which you play as Drovers, the few who choose to modify their Autostedes into weapons capable of surviving the harsh wilderness between towns. 

Actions taken with the ‘stede interact with their wishes, turning every roll into an ongoing conversation with your companion, where you come together to find the best solution to a problem. 

Autostede feels very much inspired by Horizon Zero Dawn, with a bit of a western twist. Character creation involves two parts. First is Drover Creation, which is attached to your mask, an air filtration device that also grants special skills and points towards one of the three main stats as a strength for you. The second part is your Stede, a character sheet with a 4-section hex grid, with each hex representing attribute bonuses, passive abilities, and modules that can serve as weapons, power generators, extra limbs, and so on.

While the game is based in LUMEN, there’s definitely pieces of it that feel unique, such as your mechanical steeds, and the way skills are used in the game. Each character has access skills that are generally useful, but also can do things that feel a little unhelpful, such as “bewilder” or “consider”. These are Recovery skills; most skills are Spent when you use them and can’t be used right away again after you’ve used them, but Recovery skills can be used to refresh your options, in a sense. These balances of skills feels like a great way to introduce pauses into what might otherwise feel like a hectic game, encouraging your characters to demonstrate weaknesses or narrative moments that are more about the character than what the character is doing.

If you love building custom mechs but still want a lightweight set of rules, I definitely recommend Autostede.

Paratype, by megasomamars.

"The world ended long ago. It doesn’t matter how; pollution, nuclear fallout or some cataclysmic event, no one really knows. What they do know is that it didn’t take long for the bugs to show up. Giant insects terrorize what remains of humanity, leaving survivors scrounging for what little resources they can get.

For most, life in the wasteland has become fast, dangerous and insectile. Thanks to science, some individuals have even found a way to splice their DNA with that of these mutant invertebrates to develop strange new adaptations of their own. These hybrids are humanity's newest area and last hope. Now all that’s left is to survive."

Paratype is an interesting little hybrid of a game. The basic rules involve rolling to hit a difficulty level, with rules for both advantage and disadvantage. However, the game also includes a special roll called the Risk roll, which involves rolling 2d20 and taking the result that is the farthest from 10. This is great for situations where you want either a fantastic success or a deadly failure.

Characters have four general stats, with sub-stats that represent specialties, which reminds me of World of Darkness or Genesys games. The inventory system takes inspiration from Mausritter, consisting of hexagonal shapes that can be filled with different size items. If you buy a backpack, your inventory expands!

Finally, the Health of your character is measured in both Hit Points and Stress points. You lose hit points, and gain Stress points. Running out of HP = death, while hitting max SP leads to your character going “feral”, which makes your character virtually unplayable. I think the explanation in the lore for this is a DNA splice that has changed your character to make them better survivors. I also feel like it carries echoes of Trauma in Blades in the Dark, or Corruption in Urban Shadows, except that in Paratype, SP can be healed a little easier.

Light Eaters, by blindink.

An interstellar encounter brought a Light to the earth, corrupting reality and leaving humanity in ash. The last city stands against the inevitable, remnants of the pre-existing mortal Authority desperately clutching for power. Degenerates stalk the wasteland with insatiable hunger, encircling the dying carcass of order. You are the misfits, the should-not-bes, the first and last signs of apocalypse. Born from the end, you are Light Eaters. In your wake, nothing will ever be the same. 

Light Eaters is a campaign-style role-playing game for three or more players, telling the story of the last city hurtling towards an inevitable end. Players take the role of Light Eaters, near immortal post-human beings watching helplessly as humanity as we know it comes to an end, fighting back against the Authority and the effects of their own Degeneration. They decide for themselves what matters, and what they take with them into this new world.

Light Eaters uses 6-diced dice as resources, which you can place on slots in 4 different move categories in order to set yourself up for action scenes. You can only assign 4’s, 5’s and 6’s: 2’s and 3’s can be re-rolled, while 1’s inflict conditions or allow something called Chaos to rise. Your characters can work as a team, sharing dice and distributing Conditions evenly, and you can also oppose one-another, attempting to disrupt each-other’s rolls by spending personal resources.

The general game play appears to consist of an over-arching problem, with various levels framed as scenes. Each scene will include an obstacle, often in the form of opposing NPCs. These NPCs carry Facets that can be damaged through the actions of the PCs, and each Facet consists of descriptive words that represent powers and personalities that will affect the NPC’s choices. Over time, Chaos will build, triggering new events every time you reach a new level. When Chaos reaches level 4, the game is over; narrate what happens based on the events that have happened so far.

This game looks like a great option for players who want stakes that raise higher and higher, and plenty of ways to interpret their special powers; You can get a taste of this game by checking out an ashcan scenario, called Light Eaters: Thunderfuck, a scenario with pre-generated characters and a problem that each character is motivated to solve.

Bug World, by alfie meyer.

Maybe the apocalypse could have been averted, but it wasn’t, and here we are, in a brand new world. this isn’t your cold, nuclear winter, sparse and dead kind of post-apocalypse. the end sent the world on a new course, brimming with life - just not quite as much human life as before. ok, barely any. in the super oxygen-rich atmosphere of the earth today, insect life has thrived. it only took a few decades for bugs to reach incredible sizes, and now, about a century-and-a-half after the disaster, gargantuan insects are a normal sight.

from a ladybug the size of a dog, to millipedes that might as well be trains, to horned beetles with skeletons big enough to use as shelter. bugs are huge and they are everywhere. the remaining humans have domesticated some, trained others, made wary peace with some intelligent groups, and carved themselves out sections of the world to live.

Bug World is a Powered by the Apocalypse game in that mechanically, it carries a lot of the hallmarks: playbooks, stats that add modifiers to moves, and graded success. It’s also literally a post-apocalypse: the world is broken and dangerous, and the players are scavenging to survive and learning about the past in the process. However, I think in comparison to Apocalypse World, the moves and goals of the characters are less integrated; in Apocalypse World, a character is motivated by lack of resources to intimidate, insinuate, and barter with the other inhabitants of their settlement for more. In Bug World, you are instead motivated to work together to go searching for the things you need to survive.

The Distant Shore, by The Ignis Court.

Transhumanity's empire has been sundered. The Machine Minds they had relied too heavily upon have left them, and Earth too has disappeared. The Settlements across the Sol System have been left scattered and isolated in the black. As megacorp, fascists, and Psionic Tyrants begin movement to take advantage, an entity known as the Distant Shore has manifest from Ceres, and its caustic light has begun tugging at the psyche of every thinking being. 

Lucky then that the Machine Minds saw fit to offer you a parting gift: an Ancile, fragment of the Machine Minds. Their nature symbiotic with your own names you Psion, and one capable of great and terrible power. 

This is the Distant Shore. 

The Distant Shore is a very interesting example of how your characters’ backgrounds and the lore of the game are built into the process of character creation. For example, you must choose a character background that will place you on the outside of the system of power, and each character must also contain an Ancile that gives them incredible power while also makes them dangerous.

The system itself uses d20’s, with a 10 as a threshold for success. However, how well you succeed is determined by your character’s skills - if you are Untrained in a skill, a success is still partial, and if you are Trained in a skill that aligns with your background, you cannot fail. Your training also determines critical points of your backstory. For example; if you are Trained in Engage, name a fight you didn’t win and what it cost you. I love that these kinds of tie-ins ensure that the players will learn what they need to know about the setting without overloading them with information.

The designer also has an adventure document for this game called No More Tourists, if you need a place to start.

Why We Fight, by Stop, Drop & Roll Games Studio. Why We Fight is a solarpunk narrative TTRPG where you play a crew of eco-punks fighting fascism to build a brighter, greener future.

Your Crew will journey through the remains of a post-civil war country to save lives, reclaim nature, create a community of compassion, and beat back the oppressive forces that threaten the chance for a new start.

But most of all, it’s about learning about each other, and the things that inspire us. It’ll take close co-operation and a diverse set of skills, but together, we can make change!

Why We Fight can be played solo and GM-less, with the elements that would normally be GM-ed attached to randomizers to help the group construct missions together if that is what you so desire. The game is focused on a post-apocalypse that highlights many concerns about the consequences of an increase in fascist-leaning governance, which means it isn’t necessarily escapist, but it might give your table the space to talk about elements of the future that cause them anxiety. It might also give you a chance to demonstrate agency in situations where you normally don’t.

Character specialties are distributed among mental, physical and social categories, and feel pretty standard when it comes to a list of character skills. The group works together to construct a mission, using dice to determine elements such as opportunities, locations, and various situations that may cause complications. Play happens over the passing of a day, with different modifiers attached to specialties according to the time of day. I think this might be interesting way to add complexity that encourages strategy when it comes to plotting out your next moves.

Finally, travel between conflicts and other scenes serves to flesh out the world and add depth to your character’s experiences, using roll tables to describe how small changes in the world give your characters reasons to hope.

For Further Reading...

Post Apocalyptic Community Recommendation Post

Nuclear Radiation Recommendation Post

Fallout Recommendation Post

[three--rings]

Threerings' Dinner Plan

Okay so you've got the average or more than the average amount of stress and limitations to your time and/or ability, but you like to eat good food. And you know you need to both eat healthier and more cheaply (i.e. home cooked food.) What do you do?

Well in the past few months I've kinda perfected a system for low effort cooking of very healthy meals that last for many days of leftovers. None of this is revolutionary or anything or original but IDK it's working really well for me so I'm sharing.

(Also this is for omnivores. Sorry non meat eaters.)

Basically the idea is sheet pan meals. Like I said, not revolutionary. But I've found a system to make it as easy and low-effort as possible.

Step One: Choose your meat and recipe.

So mostly I use chicken for this, because it's cheapest. But if your store is having a great sale on pork or beef, by all means. This last week I did pork tenderloin cause they were super cheap I just searched for a recipe for sheet pan pork tenderloin and adapted it.

But we're gonna assume you're going chicken. So I really only like chicken breasts, but if you like thighs you can use those because it's cheaper. I typically use about 1.75-2lbs of chicken at at time for these recipes.

So what I do is buy the thin sliced chicken breasts from the store. The benefit here is they are already pre-trimmed of all the nasty parts so you're not paying for bits of chicken you don't want and also you don't have to handle and cut the chicken yourself. All I do is open the package and I cut each piece of sliced chicken in half in the middle, horizontally. You don't have to do that, but it makes all the pieces about the same size and it fits better on the tray and then people can take exactly as much meat as they want more easily. (I'm only feeding two adults but it would work well for kids that way.)

Step Two: Veggies

So that's your meat, then you need veggies. I use frozen veggies because they are 1)cheaper and 2)pre-cut. You can pretty much use whatever veggies you like with whatever recipe, but I try to keep it in theme. Like with a Mediterranean dish I did onions and bell peppers and cauliflower. Recently I got a bag of "roasting vegetable blend" that was excellent with brussel sprouts, butternut squash, and onions. Get the higher quality veg like broccoli "florets" cause it's worth a few cents more. You will need/want more veggies than you think, like 20 oz total, you can mix a couple small bags of different ones per tray. And they will shrink a good deal in cooking.

Step Three: Sauce/seasoning.

And then we have seasoning/sauce. This is where I turn to internet recipes for "sheet pan whatever chicken." But I have a few I've used that I've adapted so I'll give them here. Whatever you do, basically you just mix the sauce and pour it over the chicken and/or vegetables and throw it all on a sheet tray and cook it in the oven. (Specifics below.)

Korean Chicken

4  tablespoons dark soy sauce (I've tried both dark works better)

4 tablespoons brown sugar

2 tablespoons neutral oil

1 tablespoon sesame oil

2 teaspoons Sriracha sauce

4 cloves garlic , minced (or ½ teaspoon garlic powder) (I use pre-minced jar garlic for ease)

1 tablespoon gochugaru red pepper flakes (if you don't have these just either use a smaller amount of regular red pepper flakes or just more sriracha. This shouldn't be really HOT, just tangy. )

Do Broccoli and Chicken with this, and mix it all in the sauce. It makes the absolute best broccoli EVER. Like I just want a plate of this broccoli it's so GOOD.

Greek Chicken

2 tbsp olive oil

2 tbsp fresh lemon juice

6 cloves garlic minced

1 tbsp dried oregano

1 tbsp dried parsley

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

1/4 cup feta cheese crumbled

(Sub pre-juiced lemon juice and jarred garlic for ease.) Marinate the chicken in the mixture for like 30 minutes first if you have time. Onions, bell peppers and zucchini is good for this. Don't add feta until the last 3 minutes of cooking, sprinkle feta over it and then put it back to get a little melty and browned.

Shawarma Chicken

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 teaspoon ground coriander 

1½ teaspoons paprika (may substitute smoked paprika)

2 teaspoons ground cumin

½ teaspoon ground turmeric

1 teaspoon fine salt

¼ teaspoon black pepper

3 tablespoons neutral or olive oil

Juice of ½ lemon

You can again marinate the chicken for a bit if you want. But you don't have to. I recommend cauliflower for this, with whatever else you like. Grape tomatoes are good too. For this one I sprinkled the veggies with curry powder to make sure they got seasoned because there wasn't that much of the marinade.

So for ALL of these the process is this:

Preheat over to 450

Spread the frozen veggies all over a sheet pan (wrap the pan in aluminum foil first for easy clean up.) You can drizzle them with oil, salt and pepper, or a little of the sauce/marinade and toss to cover. Toss the sheet in the oven while it's still preheating. This will get the veggies started and defrosted before you add the chicken so it will all cook together.

Meanwhile get the chicken ready/wait 10-15 minutes for the oven to heat and the veggies to start cooking. (If you're using smaller/more tender veggies you can cut this time. Skip this entirely if you're using fresh.)

Mix your thin sliced chicken pieces with the marinade/sauce. Remove veggies from the oven and push to the sides to make room for your chicken in the middle. You can also simply lay the chicken pieces over veggies if you don't care about the veggies getting carmelized. Arrange your chicken and dump all the sauce. Return to oven.

Cook for about 20-25 minutes. You can check the temp of the chicken with a thermometer, but it's so thin it should be fine. This is why we start the veggies first so they can get mostly cooked and have time to start browning without overcooking chicken.

Remove from oven.

Serve with rice. I have been going the ultra-lazy route of using frozen microwaveable rice, but some of you may have rice cookers.

Congratulations you have a super healthy meal. If you feel crazy you could make a second tray of veggies at the same time and just have less meat with each meal to stretch your $. You could also add beans to your veggies and same.

My husband and I can get dinners for 4-5 days out of one of these meals. But neither of us eats a lot at a sitting, so ymmv on that.

You can also probably see how to adapt this. Find a sauce/marinade recipe, choose veggies and meat, and go! You will have to figure out the cook time for different kinds of meat though.

[tabootoji]

"LOVE IT WHEN HE HIT AND SMACK TOO"

TRAINING DAY - PART 3 OF SELFISH DESIRES ← pt. 2

✰ - SYNOPSIS: it's time for you to advance your skills as a curse user if you hope to remain by suguru's side, and who else better to train you than the worst one of all time? (or) you and suguru get down and dirty in the middle of a yoga session. ✰ - WC: 2.8k ✰ - TAGS: reader is female, short, black and curvy, semi public, obsession/possessive, size diff., nipple play, dry humping, groping, pussy slapping, cunnilingus, v. intercourse, dirty talk, praise, belly press, f. orgasm, creampie, no use of (y/n), all lower case ✰ - A/N: our reader is finally going through her training arc! (kinda :P) so ofc i used the opportunity to feed my imagination with the idea of geto in a compression shirt hehe (which was kinda inspired by this). also i put in a really small gojo mention, i was debating on whether i should in this story or not, but since i did say i'm sorta following canon events it just made sense to. anyways, we have one part left, so i hope y'all like how the story's been going so far!

since the 'incident' with manami, suguru has been carrying himself around the sacred temple with an extra pep in his step. and why wouldn't he? the amount of followers coming to the temple seems to have doubled, maybe even tripled in a short amount of time - which meant more curses to add to his arsenal. the wealthy contributions to their organization have also skyrocketed, granting everyone in the shrine a life of comfortability. above all, suguru was able to walk with his head held high knowing that now, all had graciously accepted your position as his one and only beloved, staying right by his side where you belonged.

however, there was an elephant in the room that he had yet to address: training you. suguru's group consisted of strong, sharp-witted shamans who stood ready to follow his every command. and although he had no intentions of ever putting you in a situation where your life would be in danger, he needed to know that if there was ever a time he or the other curse users couldn't protect you, you'd be able to defend yourself. he also hoped that coaching you would in turn boost your confidence in your own skill and abilities, putting you amongst the ranks of your peers.

suguru made up his mind that at least once a week, he would clear a part of his schedule to physically train you, as well as guide you to perfect your cursed technique. you were hesitant to the idea at first, but after much coaxing, you agreed as long as he promised he would start off teaching you slowly. so today, he stands in the center of the traditional garden behind the sanctuary with yoga mats sprawled on the freshly trimmed lawn, waiting for you to join him so he could start you off with the basics.

suguru decided to forgo his usual long, flowing garments for a more casual look. he donned a compression shirt that fit tightly around his athletic torso, loose sweatpants that hung off of his defined waist, and opted to stay barefooted with nothing on his feet. it was a sunny afternoon, and the clear blue skies accompanying the warm sun that casted a radiant glow over the magnificent oasis gave the fake buddhist priest much to think about as he awaited your arrival.

he thought of the irony of him currently adapting a teaching role in his current position, a role he so desperately tried to run away from when he abandoned jujutsu society. he was sure his former best friend from a period so long ago it felt like it happened in a different lifetime would laugh at him if he saw him right now. suguru closed his eyes as favorable memories of his youth flashed in inconsistent intervals in his mind that the dreadful ones had yet to cloud before he was interrupted by a familiar soft, melodic voice calling his name.

opening them, suguru instantly felt a pleasant tranquility wash over him at the sight of you. sporting a gym top with yoga pants, you stood with a beaming smile on your face, head slightly tilted as you asked if he was alright. he chuckled to himself, shaking his head and dispelling your worries by bending down to your height to peck your forehead. when the troubles of his past barred their ugly fangs, of course he knew he would be fine, as long as he could gaze at you, his future.

you feel your cheeks heat up, very sure that your face was covered in a red blush at not just suguru's affectionate gesture, but by how hunky he looked in his current attire. you don't usually get the chance to see him in anything else besides his robes, so you quickly take a mental image of how his massive arms seemed so close to ripping through the elasticity of his shirt, and how his structured v-line and sexy happy trail peeked out of the band of his sweats.

once you and suguru decide that you're ready to start, you both sit beside each other on one of the yoga mat's cross legged, and begin to meditate. pushing a curly strand of hair that fell out of your styled high bun behind your ear, you try to listen to his prompts to close your eyes, focus on your breathing and rid your mind and body of any anxiety you're feeling.

contradicting his own teachings, suguru takes the opportunity to eye you from top to bottom suggestively. your cropped sports tank top had a slight dip in the neckline that gave him a glimpse of your deep cleavage. and because of how the top was tied behind you, your ample breasts were pushed up, threatening to spill out if you made one wrong move (which suguru was indeed hoping for). and don't get him started on your damn yoga pants. the sheer, tight fitted garment not only hugged your delectable curves in just the right way, your rich skin was visible behind them. suguru's cock twitched at the idea of how easy it would be to rip them right off of you.

but alas, he had to stay focused. after he deemed that you were relaxed enough to move on to stretches, suguru instructed you into the first position. as you lay on your back with your arms flat on the mat, he kneeled in front of you, telling you to bend your knees and lift your pelvic region off of the ground. however, after a couple of seconds your legs begin to shake, already threatening to falter your current pose. when suguru holds your hips firmly in place with his hands on either side of you, your eyes shoot up at the thunderbolt of dopamine rushing through your veins you feel every time the two of you touch. teasingly, he smirks at you. "looks like ya gonna need some help, little one. mind if i assist ya?"

if you thought your face was red before, you were certain you resembled a tomato as you nodded your head slowly, nervously accepting suguru's offer. you've barely had to go through any physical endurance throughout the span of your life, so all of this was fairly new to you. you were already doubting how you were going to perform, now you've advanced to worried at the idea of the well built, good looking man before you grazing your body through it. get your mind out of the gutter and focus, you thought to yourself.

however, this would prove to be especially hard during the next position suguru aids you with. with your back still on the floor, he grasps the back of one of your thick thighs and holds it as far as it can comfortably go, which wasn't much without any force being applied. to your surprise, he situates his groin in between your legs, places your foot onto his broad shoulder, and slowly leans towards your face to deepen the stretch. your size difference is apparent now more than ever as his tall frame hovers over your short one. you're now unsure if your perspiration is due to the hot sun or the sexual implications of this yoga pose.

suguru thanks himself for his choice of outfit, knowing his growing hard on would be embarrassingly apparent right now if not for his baggy pants. though the more you both continued these sensual stretches, the less interest he had in modesty, wanting his sinful thoughts to be known by you. "ya doin' alright baby?" he asks jestfully. suguru watches you bite your lip bashfully at the pet name, humming your confirmation. cute. so, so, cute.

you move on to model your best child's pose, suguru behind you almost passing out looking at you. with the way your knotted shirt twists behind you, he was able to admire the curve of your lower back and the matter in which it dipped in the center. when he tells you to progress into a cat pose, suguru doesn't even give you time to go into the paralleled cow's position, becoming enthralled by your mesmerizing arch and proceeding to grab your waist to push your bottom against his lap.

you gasp in surprise, looking behind at suguru as he slots his covered, rock hard boner in between your clothed pussy lips. wordlessly, he begins to fondle your body, groping the fat of your gut and ass, before reaching beneath your tight top to palm your huge tits, pulling and twisting your taut nipples with his rough fingers mercilessly.

at the sudden, yet thrilling stimulation, you compulsively mewl out his name, grinding your butt against his bugle, and it awakens something inside of him. in the blink of an eye suguru's previous thoughts become reality as he uses his powerful strength to rip open the stemming of your leggings to expose your crotch to him. to his disappointment, the fabric of your cotton underwear stands in the way of his pot of gold. at the speed of lighting he gives your nether regions a sudden 'smack', causing you to squeal at the sensation of pain and pleasure becoming one. "panties? really girl? y'know better than that." he reprimands you.

before you get the chance to explain that you wore them for the sake of the training, never in your wildest dreams being able to predict that the two of you would end up doing this in the middle of it, he slides the flimsy fabric to the side to reveal your already leaking pussy. watching your tightly rimmed hole pulse with anticipation only doubles his insatiable craving to taste you, so without hesitation suguru bends down till he's eye level with your cunt, sticks the wet mass of his tongue out, and licks a long stripe up your quivering genitals.

his eyes roll to the back of his head as he savors your succulent nectar. suctioning his moist lips, suguru sucks up your wetness that dribbles into his awaiting mouth in quick successions. you suddenly become all too aware that you're right at the center of the facilities public garden where the gardeners, servants, any resident of the building could stroll through and witness both of your current indiscretions. but the way suguru flicks your sensitive clit with his flat pink tongue is just too good for you to care right now.

your knees buckle and your trembling voice begins to increase in pitch as suguru continues to messily eat your pussy from the back. you could have confused him for a famished man in the middle of the desert with the way he was slurping your sopping cunt. and if that wasn't enough, he began to prod the muscular organ deep into your delicate flower, as if he was trying to reach the barricades of your soul with just his mouth alone. and every time you tried to squirm away from his passionate lapping's, he would bury his face till his nose nuzzled into your vagina, lolling out his tongue to swipe your bundle of nerves from side to side.

just when you're on the brink of cumming all over his face, suguru retracts from your pussy, panting so loudly you could feel his cool, minty breath tickling you. you huff out in frustration from not receiving the spine tingling orgasm you were anticipating, pouting angrily at him. he plants a parting kiss to your cunt, then leans forward to mutter in your ear four words that make you immediately forget why you were frowning your face in the first place.

"i need you. now."

shame almost overtakes you as you drawl out an eager chant of yeses, but that quickly disappears when suguru rushes to pull his leisurely pants down to the top of his knees, swiftly springing out his now enraged cock before taking it in his hands and thrusting it against your womanhood. collecting all of your excitement onto his thick length, he slides it into your tense awaiting walls.

you both groan in satisfaction as suguru fills you up to the brim with almost no resistance. he almost can't believe he was able to, considering how tight of a fit it is whenever he pushes himself into you the first time. either he's finally fucked you enough for your gummy canals to become his personal fleshlight, or the stretching you did beforehand must have really did its job and relaxed you.

and although the two may be true, he's currently attributing your new flexibility to the later. now that you're warmed up from your previous light workout, you're able to angle your rear side till the front of your torso is pressed onto the yoga mat. looking at you grip the sharp blades of grass with your hands till you're almost pulling them out of the ground, further entices suguru to draw his hips back, before railing his desperate cock back into you.

you and suguru set a ferocious pace, him using brute force to barrel his veiny dick into your sex while you match his thrusts, throwing your curvaceous body back as he drives forward. both of your risqué behavior contradicts the peaceful atmosphere of the beautiful garden surrounding the two of you. the soothing pour of the fountains, the unique chirps of the foreign birds that home the piece of land, and the gorgeous flowers in bloom juxtapose the slapping sounds of your ass cheeks hastily colliding with suguru's thighs, your squelching pussy wrapping around his large membrane with a vicious gripe, and your conjoined wails as he continues to defile you.

you realize you may be just as lecherous as he is as your indecorous spectacle shockingly exhilarates you the more you both achieve your desirous commands of one another.

your jaw slacks open when suguru repeatedly lurches his round cockhead to bump against your tender womb. "su-sugu...right there, right there!" you encourage him. he digs his fingers into your luscious lumps to allow himself to delve even further inside your numbing cunt than you thought humanly possible. "ya like that princess? huh? my dainty toy wants it rough? right here?" he finishes his sentence by pressing his sizable hand against your chubby stomach to feel the point of intrusion.

his filthy words are the final nail in the coffin, consequently imploding your snug cunt as flows of your secretion burst around the girth of suguru's unrelenting cock. you're on cloud nine, your entire body falling slack as you allow him to use it for his own lustful volition. "look so good takin' me, fuck, gonna ruin ya baby girl...agh! cumming...m' cumming, here it comes...!" he grits his teeth in anguish, feeling your pussy cruelly squeeze the life out of him, leaving him dizzy. the steadfast movement of his hips finally stutters as he spurts his heavy load into your belly.

he lunches forward after experiencing his sweet rapture, both of you breathless from your endeavors. while your consciousness slowly comes back to earth, suguru takes the opportunity to pull his weighty shaft out of you. he quickly repositions your underwear back on, the semen pouring out of your abused cunt quickly dampening it. you scrunch your nose at the wetness pooling in your undergarments, kneeling up with suguru and bashfully looking at the aftermath of your robust sex.

suguru has to hold in his laugh by giving the top of your head another long kiss. how fast you switched from a crazed vixen back to his angelic, coy girl was so adorable. "i think that's enough training for the day, don't you think little one?" he asks jokingly, helping you both to your feet while you giggle at him. he will have to make sure that starting next week, you both begin taking your lessons more seriously. starting off by making sure you don't wear anymore revealing outfits, unless you wanted to get your bones jumped again.

"agreed, i think i'm definitely in need of a shower after our...exercise." you chuckled. but before you take a step towards the entrance of the monastery, you glance down at your pants, quickly realizing its tattered state. you look up at him in alarm. "suguru...i can't walk around the sanctuary like this." without another word he pulls his own top off, helping you put it over your head so it covers your bare regions.

suguru now stands before you shirtless, sweat glistening off of his beautiful skin. you ogle at him like it's the first time you've seen him naked, because how could you not? it was as if the man's abdominals were carved by the gods themselves. you have to take a strained gulp to keep yourself from literally drooling before you take his hand to hold in yours possessively. "will you...join me.?" you ask him.

momentarily stunned by your request, he quickly recovers and lets a mischievous grin form on the sides of his face. "thought you'd never ask darling." he whispers in your ear provocatively, walking with you hand in hand into the premises. suguru wouldn't worry too much about skipping your training for today, because he was going to have plenty of time to build your endurance and stamina.

[three-crows-in-hiking-boots]

Wings of Fire Worldbuilding: SeaWing Subspecies

Subspecies: While SeaWings live in all parts of the marine biome, some groups have developed enough adaptations and appear physically different from their more generic counterparts. These subspecies can interbreed, resulting in offspring having a mix of traits from the parents or their family, though they may favor or even fully resemble one parent over the other. Currently, the recognized subspecies are:

Hadal: Largest of the subspecies, Abyssal SeaWings are the most unique in appearance when it comes to the subspecies. They have large eyes, and their bioluminescence is used not only for communication but also to lure prey. They have large wings and long bodies, but move slowly to preserve energy due to the lack of consistent food. They tend to travel alone or in pairs with their partner(s), but are otherwise fairly isolated and spread widely through the deepest regions of the oceans. Unique to Abyssal SeaWings, their scales can range from darker generic values (similar to the scale color of NightWings) to red, rendering them invisible in the depths. They range from the Abyssalpelagic to the Hadalpelagic zone.

Pelagic: Similar in size to generic SeaWings, Pelagic SeaWings are usually the most muscular of the subspecies with m. They have large membranes that are often scarred and ragged due to conspecific interactions as well as predator-prey interactions, as well as long chin barbels that aid in navigation in low-light environments. They’re the fastest of the subspecies, with large, angular, and sharp features and long, sharp snouts. Their scale colors range from dark generic values, generic values, to pale, grey or silver-toned, generic values. They range from the Epipelagic to the Bathypelagic zone, with the lightest individuals being found closest to the surface, and darker individuals being deeper. They often travel in groups, working cooperatively to hunt other fast-moving pelagic species. 

Polar: Polar SeaWings are the closest in appearance to those of the generic SeaWing. They are often considered fat or chubby by those outside the polar region, but their structure is best for their frigid home. Their scales are the most flexible, of the SeaWings, to accommodate the seasonal gain and loss of the blubber layer as they move between polar and more temperate waters to allow for any dragonets born to the subspecies to gain their own blubber layer. They also have the thickest membranes of any subspecies, to the point where they’re opaque rather than translucent, which allows for thermoregulation through them. Their horns resemble those of some IceWings, with them laying almost flat against their body when they swim, reducing the risk of ice-related injury should they get caught on floes. Some individuals have muted and/or paler scale colors, but they also have generic scale colors as well. They, like Pelagic SeaWings, travel in large groups to hunt cooperatively, feeding on seals and other marine mammals.  Royal: Royal SeaWings, while not really a true subspecies, have been given the designation for their unique appearance. They have additional bioluminescent scales on their wings and body, as well as more curled horns. Royal Seawings also have the potential for animus magic, with many animus being listed in the histories of the tribe. They have a higher chance of showing pale scales like those of the Pelagic subspecies, but, without other Pelagic traits.

[nonuggetshere]

(ID start: A species reference sheet for a fan interpretation of a wyrm from Hollow Knight. The animal in the picture is long and snake-like with sharp layered scales in the rows of three, vaguely resembling a pinecone in appearance. It has a cone-shapes muzzle that tappers in the end split into 6 sections, between each section there's an eye further up the head, 6 eyes total. It has two tiny front arms further down its body and multiple sets of hind legs resembling these of a centipede running from lower part of its body all the way to the tip of its tail. It's brown with its belly being a lighter shade, with light green eyes, pinkish eyelids and lips, and cream claws. On the top left corner of the picture there's text that reads: "Common Wyrm. Climate: Highly adaptable, but does best in arid and temperate climates. Diet: Carnivore." On the right side of the wyrm's head there's a close-up of the eye, showing its slightly milky colour and a white pupil, next to it the text reads: "Functionally blind, can only see light and vague shapes". In the middle top section of the picture there's a diagram showing the wyrm's mouth in more detail. On the left, a picture shows its mouth closed and where the hard armouring of its body ends and soft flesh of its lips and eyelids begins. On the right, a picture of its mouth open shows the different parts of its jaws, the front jaws split into 6 ections with large front facing teeth used for digging and fighting and its lips drawn back to reveal them, inside the larger jaw is a smaller set of mandibles split into 4 sections used for eating. In the top right corner is a black silhouette of the wyrm, The Hollow Knight and The Knight, the text reads: "Size comparison to the Pure Vessel and The Knight". The Hollow Knight/Pure Vessel reaches the wyrm's lower chest, while The Knight is roughly the size of the wyrm's forearm. On the right side of the picture there are close ups of the wyrm's front and hind limbs. The one labelled "Front paws" shows its stubby, segmented paw with 5 fingers and long, sharp claws. The one labelled "Hind legs" shows a one-clawed segmented leg resembling that of a centipede. Right below the wyrm, in the middle bottom part of the picture, there's text that reads: "Many hind legs, good for holding (prey, courting and brood rearing)". End ID.)

FREE BASE

Pinecone looking ass

I originally wanted to just make every sub-species of wyrm I came up with and post them all at once but then I started drawing the different morphs and realises I couldn't do that LMAO

Also my toxic trait is forgetting to post my art here if I don't so it immediately after finishing it💜

More info + different morphs under the cut

(ID: A picture depicting 4 wyrms, text on the top of the picture reads: "Common Wyrm morphs". Text in the middle reads: "(more saturated colours and very dark/light colours are rare)". The first wyrm, labelled "Solid", is a solid sandy colour with subtle darker gradient on the head, tail and back, green eyes, light pink lips and eyelids, and cream claws. The second wyrm, labelled "Two-tone", is a dusty brown colour with a lighter brown underbelly, a more visible dark gradient on its head, back and tail, amber eyes, dark pink lips and eyelids, and dark grey claws. The third wyrm, labelled "Point", is a pink colour that slowly turns into dark brown further up its head and down its tail, with yellow eyes, warm pink lips and eyelids the same colour as its main body, and brown-ish grey claws. The forth wyrm, labelled "Horizontal stripes", is a dusty, dark brown colour with a dark brown stripe running down its side, black thin stripes run down its body, one along its back and two on either side of the large brown stripe, it has green eyes, dark pink flesh and grey claws. End ID.)

(ID: A picture depicting 4 wyrms, text on the top of the picture reads: "Common Wyrm morphs". Text in the middle reads: "(more saturated colours and very dark/light colours are rare)". The first wyrm, labelled "White back", is a vibrant orange colour that turns lighter on its head, a black stripe running on the side of its body and a creamy white back, with dark pink flesh, light grey eyes and light greyish cream claws. The second wyrm, labelled "Stripped point", is a vibrant yellow colour that turns brownish gold on its head and tail, stripped front paws and a stripped head, a brown stripe that runs down its side and gets lighter further down its body, cutting off at its front paws and beginning again from their hind legs and running all the way down the rest of its body, getting darker again at the tip of its tail, it has hazel eyes, redish flesh and dark grey claws. The third wyrm, labelled "Two-toned point-stripe", has a greenish-grey body that gets darker and more red at the head and tail, and the same pattern as the last wyrm but with a cream underbelly, it has green eyes, light pink flesh and dark grey claws. The fourth wyrm, labelled "Vertical stripes", is a light sandy wyrm whose colour gets more vibrant and orange further up its head with a thin orange stripe running down its back, one short black stripe on the side of its head, one black stripe on the top of its head and wide black horizontal stripes running all down its body that get lighter and more orange-brown the further down they go, eventually blending into the same colour as the stripe on its back, with its front two paws completely black, light green eyes, dark pink flesh and black claws. End ID.)

(ID: A picture depicting 4 wyrms, text on the top of the picture reads: "Common Wyrm morphs". Text in the middle reads: "(more saturated colours and very dark/light colours are rare)". The first wyrm, labelled "Three-tone", is a greyish brown colour, with a grey underbelly and a dark brown wide stripe running down its back, orangeish red flesh, light grey eyes and cream claws. The second wyrm, labelled "Rosette", is a green-ish brown colour with an orange muzzle and tail, the top of its head is dark and turns into a blurry stripe running down its back, there are 8 large dark blotches running down its back starting from just behind its head with each one having a lighter yellow colour inside it that turns more orange the further down the body the blotches are, it has yellow stripes around its greenish yellow eyes, warm reddish pink flesh and dark grey claws. The third wyrm, labelled "Dorsal stripe", is a light pink colour that gets slightly darker on the back with a dusty pink thin stripe running down its back, redish light pink flesh, dark grey eyes and black claws. The fourth wyrm, labelled "Masked", is a dark dusty yellow colour with darker muzzle and tail, and brown stripes on its head and over its eyes, with the stripes on the top eyes link together with a stripe on its head and neck forming a sort of mask marking, many thin vertical stripes run down its body swapping between dark and lighter brown colours, it has dark green/light green heterochromia, dark pink flesh and black claws. End ID.)

(ID: A picture depicting 4 wyrms, text on the top of the picture reads: "Common Wyrm morphs". Text in the middle reads: "(more saturated colours and very dark/light colours are rare)". The first wyrm, labelled "Leucistic", is a white colour with darker cream head, back and tail, pink flesh, dark brown eyes and dark grey claws. The second wyrm, labelled "Albino", is completely white with light pink flesh, light blue eyes and white claws. The third wyrm, labelled "Melanistic", is black with blue and red undertones, dark reddish pink flesh, dark brown eyes and black claws. The fourth wyrm, labelled "Piebald", is majority white with five blotches of colour on its body, one on the head, one on the tip of its tail and three down its back, the blotches are the same pattern and colour as "Horizontal stripes" morph but lighter, with yellow/blue heterochromia with the blue eye over the white blotch on the lower part of its head, dusty pink flesh and white and dusty dark cream claws. End ID.)

So here they are!

They're mostly Earthy and pink tones, with their eye colours ranging from green to orange with different saturation and hue - including grey and almost white and black eyes. Blue are mostly only possible when there's white over them or some sort of loss of pigment like in albinism. I mostly took inspo from earthworms and hammerhead worms for their markings and colours.

The most common, or at least most recognisable, species of wyrm in my AU. Second largest and highly adptable, these guys dig extensive tunnels spanning kilometres across and deep underground. They're essential to the ecosystem as their old tunnels provide safety for smaller organisms in the harsh wastelands.

They've got 6 eyes, each one between their six front mandibles. When they open them their eyes automatically close, though it isn't a problem as their vision is already poor.

Although they're capable of eating plants they're almost exclusively carnivores, specialising in hunting other colossal prey - including other wyrms. They hunt and fight by holding their prey down using their hind and front limbs and biting them with their powerful jaws.

They're known to be territorial and violent, the kingdoms made by wyrms having a reputation for being very war-focused.

They have litters of 1 to 13 young and are known for being very protective and highly attentive parents, rearing their young until they're old enough to survive on their own.

There was once a time where wyrms and their kingdoms were plenty, but with their rapidly dwindling numbers they're now a rare sight to behold - and wyrm-led kingdoms an even rarer one. Although mostly a solitary species the fear of extinction brought some of them together, and now it's not that unheard of for wyrms to stay in small family groups, with some of them choosing to shed their former bodies to live in larger groups together. These wyrm villages make it easier to find a mate and to find enough food, though because of their inherent territorial nature they're still not that common despite their benefits.

[papersnakepress]

I had a message the other day asking (among other things) what kind of tools and equipment I use in making books, and as it's something I like to go into detail on, I realized I couldn't fit everything I had to say in a message so it's getting its own post. With photos!

Disclaimer that I'm not a professional bookbinder, I'm entirely self-taught and probably have habits and practices that would drive a pro nuts. I'm no authority, but these are the things that have worked for me, and maybe you can adapt them to work for you too.

This post will not cover: storage options, materials like board and glue, or equipment specific to one narrower aspect of the hobby like embossing or gilding. It is also not a tutorial on how to make a book, though I am covering things in more-or-less the order I use them in during the book-making process.

This post will cover: What I've found useful, what I've regretted buying, and some things you can co-opt from other, more common hobbies. A lot of it you may already have in your house. Some of it is for beginners, some is nicer equipment you might want as you get further into making books. They are not separated, it's just a list and some description.

Keep reading below the cut; this is gonna be a very long one and there are a lot of photos of everything.

If you want to make books you will need access to a printer. I'm not going to go into detail on this part and I didn't take a photo of my HP (not the best brand, but that's a long discussion in and of itself). Once you've got your pages printed and it's time to fold it into signatures, it helps to have a folding tool like these:

Folding tools can be anything as long as they're smooth and flat. The one on the left here is an actual bone folder from an art supply shop, but the center one is a plastic leatherworking tool that I got at Hobby Lobby, and the one on the right is an agate burnisher that I got from Amazon. None of these cost more than $10, and you can also use the edge of a pen (as long as it has no rubber grip or cap/clip) or the back of a spoon. Or your fingers, but the tools make it faster and the folds are more precise. I once worked a job where I had to fold maps, and all my coworkers were wondering how I did them so much faster and why mine were flatter than everyone else's, and it was because I'd grabbed a sharpie and started using the back end like a bone folder.

Once it's folded, you'll need to poke holes for sewing. I use one of these:

Left is, again, an actual bookbinding awl from an art supply store, while the center one is a paper quilling tool and the right one is a beadwork awl, both of which came from a big chain craft store. The bead one is my favorite; it's a good size and very stable. The quilling thing has too long and thin of a blade and it's wobbly, and I don't like the tapering on the bookbinding awl. It tends to make the holes in the middle page too big, and the outer ones too small. Again, these were cheap, about $10 each, but you can also use a sewing needle stuck in a cork, or a thumbtack or pushpin. If it's pointy and rigid, it'll work.

This isn't a requirement by any means, but I've found I like having a punching cradle for the hole-poking step. I got this 3d printed one from a fellow bookbinder, who was designing their own and made this one as a prototype. There are a lot of tutorials on how to make a punching cradle, or you can buy them online from several different vendors. They don's all look like this, and you can make them from wood or cardboard (though those don't usually have guide holes). If you're just starting out or this doesn't appeal, you can just use a paper template like the one on the far right. The cradle helps get the holes lined up and evenly spaced, and I've never liked this step so anything that makes it faster and less fussy is a win. If you use this kind, check that your hole-poking tool fits in the guide holes--the binding awl pictured above doesn't, but the other two do.

We've made holes, so let's stitch them up. These are just regular sewing needles and beeswax, to make your thread less prone to tangling. You can get both of them in any store that has a sewing department. There are dedicated bookbinding needles, like curved needles, and some binders like them, but I've never gotten the hang of the curved ones and they aren't necessary, especially when you're just starting out. If it fits through the holes you made, it will work.

Once it's sewn, you probably want to squish your new text block so it's flat. I've got a laying press that I bought a couple of years ago when I was first getting started. It was marketed as a book and flower press, and it's honestly not the best. I would probably not have bought it if I had known that it wasn't essential to the process, and I mainly use it now when I'm squishing a text block and still want to use my work space, because once it's tight I can move it somewhere else. You can really use almost anything for squishing as long as it's heavy and flat and rigid on one side, like the stack of books in the right-hand photo. Textbooks, encyclopedias, art and photo books, and comic book omnibuses are all great. I've seen people use all kinds of things, like paper-wrapped bricks and doorstops, and there are tutorials out there to make your own press out of cutting boards if you do want one.

If you like your books to have smooth, flat page edges you're going to have to trim them. This is a book plow from Affordable Binding Equipment, and it was the first piece of actual expensive equipment that I bought. Not all plows look like this; I think the design is unique to ABE, but I've never used the traditional kind. In the interest of full disclosure, you can also trim edges with a sharpened chisel, which is much cheaper and can be bought at any hardware store, and some binders love this method. I do not love this method and have had zero regrets about caving and getting the plow. Very easy to use but does require some grip strength. Not pictured: the setup for sharpening the blade, which isn't hard but requires a bit of space and a small sheet of plate glass that you have to source yourself. Even with that, I still prefer it to the chisel. That said, this is not an essential step and you can leave your books with a "sawtooth" or deckled edge. Most of my early books have them, and some people just like them better than the flat ones and never learn to trim them. As another side note, some tutorials will say that you can trim your edges flat with a knife. You can't. Maybe on a pamphlet you can, but if it's more than 10 or 20 pages you just can't. It will look terrible.

If you're going to use a plow, you've got to have the right kind of press. The one I talked about further up the thread is the wrong kind (full disclosure: I did use it with that press turned on its side, before I bought this one. But it's harder, more time-consuming, less comfortable, and less safe. Don't be like me). So here's a photo of my finishing press (also from Affordable Binding Equipment). I bought it so I could make backed books, but I use it for trimming too. The top part here has a narrow tapered section for backing, but if you flip it over it's totally flat, which is what you need for trimming. Not pictured: the stand that it came with for backing, or the c-clamps that I use to attach it to the desk for trimming. Again, though--this isn't a requirement for bookbinding. This is a later stage that's entirely optional. On the subject of backing, though:

You don't need special equipment to round the spines of your books, but you do for backing. Left image is the set of backing boards I got from, once again, Affordable Binding Equipment, and on the right is a backing hammer from Hollander's. Neither of these are essential. Even if you get the boards (which have to be used in a press with a tapered edge, like the one directly above) you can actually use a regular hammer as long as the front part has no scratches or gouges. This one is a backing hammer, the primary difference being that it has a wider, convex head than a regular household hammer, to make the kind of glancing blows needed for backing a little easier. Honestly, I'm still learning how to use these and I'm not very good with them yet. Comes of being self-taught, probably. I don't think youtube is the best vehicle for learning this part, but it's what I have and I'm making do. Not every book is going to benefit from backing, either; it's primarily for helping mitigate spine swell.

Okay, time for my favorite repurposed equipment hack.

It's bookends. Regular bookends that I've had for ages and that probably came from Ross or some other place that doesn't even sell craft supplies.

Want to keep the text block upright while you glue it? Bookends. Want to sew some custom end bands but your text block keeps falling over? Bookends. They won't provide pressure for squishing, but if you just need to hold something upright while you work on it, bookends are the answer. They hold up books, it's right there in the name. Having said that, you want some with a little weight to them, like these agate slices, so they won't slide around. And you want something with a smooth finished edge like these, so they won't scratch up your text block or leave dents. I have other sets but these are the only ones I use for this purpose, and they're better for it than anything else I've got.

Moving on from making the text block, let's look at what I use to make covers.

It's appeared in the background of most of the other photos, but here's a photo of just the desk surface covered in cutting mats. I really recommend a mat to protect the surface of your furniture and keep your knives from going immediately dull. I've got a big one that covers almost the full surface, and a small one for when I want to be more mobile. I started with just the small one and it was good until I started working with larger sheets of paper. The big one was bought largely for convenience but I have no regrets about it. They're self-healing, non-slip, and you can get them in the sewing section of any big craft store.

I'll be honest, I am not big on knives. I've got a regular box cutter for trimming board, and a razor knife for paper and cloth, and that's it. There are a lot of kinds and really all you need is one sharp blade for board. Paper and cloth can be cut with scissors if you want, though I find I get more consistently straight lines with the knives. Also pictured: Metal rulers and a T-square. You want a metal ruler for this. Plastic will flex and wood won't lay flat. Ideally you want one without a cork backing (my 18" one has this problem) and with the tick marks etched in rather than printed (my 12" one has this problem). For larger sheets of paper and cloth, the 18" one is great, but you can get by with the smaller one. The T-square is for making right angles; mine is plastic and only 12", and I really wish I had a longer one that was metal. These are drafting tools and you'll find them in the section of the craft store that has easels and sketch pads and they're usually pretty cheap.

This is an adjustable compass. You can probably get these at craft stores but I got mine on Amazon. It's for measuring hinge gaps and the width of spines, both essential for making sure your cover fits your text block and your hinges open the way they should. Both of those are incredibly frustrating situations, and this thing makes it so much easier to avoid them.

Things to spread glue with! Any old paintbrush will do, though I like to have a few different sizes and textures on hand to choose from. I like the big one for cover boards and casing in, the mid-size ones for doing turn-ins, and the little fellow for details and touch-ups. I don't care for foam brushes because I find them hard to clean when glue is involved, but if you like you can use those. The metal thing on the left is a micro-spatula, and I did have to special order it from an art supply place but it was cheap and it's very helpful to have on hand for when the brushes are too thick, for doing turn-ins on rounded spines, and for separating pages if you decide to learn edge foiling. Not essential, but recommended.

One thing I neglected to take a photo of is my crepe eraser. Despite the best intentions, no matter how careful you are, you will at some point get glue where you don't want it, where it will be visible on the finished book. This is where the crepe eraser comes in; you can use it to remove dried glue from cloth or (to a lesser extent) paper. Very annoyingly, none of the craft or art supply places I went to had even heard of these and I had to get mine from Amazon. It was cheap (under $10) and I strongly recommend getting one.

Once your cover is made, you have some options. You can leave it blank, hand-letter or draw an image, stamp it with ink or embossing powder, use a stencil, or do what I usually do these days and make a cover graphic from HTV. I've got a cricut for this (though they're not the only kind of cutting machine; it pays to research other brands) and a mini heat press (I want a bigger one, but I got this one cheap because the box is messed up). A lot of libraries have cricuts you can use, and you can use a regular iron to apply the HTV. Getting it to stick is a bit tricky, but that's true no matter which tools you use. Not pictured: a cutting mat, different than the kind shown above, necessary with most materials you can cut (mine came with one, they're about $20 at most craft stores, and they're lightly sticky to keep your materials in place while it's being cut). I don't know if other brands require them, but cricut does unless you're using their Smart Materials (I have never used these). If your library has a cutting machine, they will also have the appropriate cutting mats. Also not pictured: weeding tools. Weeding is when you remove the bits of HTV that you don't want in the final image, usually the spaces between letters and such. The negative space, if you want to get artsy. The special tools cricut sells aren't necessary, you can use an awl or needle and the dull edge of your knife blade, but I have a set of theirs and I like mine.

I didn't take a photo of it, but sometimes I use embossing inks and powder to make cover designs and text. You only need a heat gun for embossing powder, it takes up way less space than the cricut does, and it's cheaper. I got mine free from a family member so I don't know what it cost initially, but cutting machines are a really big expense; the cricut is my third most expensive piece of equipment, after the finishing press and the plow.

Good god I think that's everything. It sounds intimidating, I know. And it sounds like it takes up tons of space in your home, and to be honest it can, but it doesn't have to. The first dozen or so books I made, I made completely to my satisfaction with tools and materials that fit in one 12x16" moving box. If you love the hobby and can make the space, the bulkier items might be worth it down the line, but especially when you're first getting started it's smart to keep things low-cost and compact. Most of the basics are simple and your fellow bookbinders are delighted to share their shortcuts and substitutions if you ask.

The end! I hope it was helpful, @cardassianexpats! I did warn you it would be wordy, lol.

[thechillsquid]

Suina- ‘Swine of the Nether and Overworld’

Suina— Those of the pig or pig-like grouping

The swine of the Nether and overworld are some of the most curious species seen within minecraft severs, for while the overworld pig itself is often considered with little thought or interest, their lineage has found a notable root within the Nether dimension.

Thought to either derive from a shared ancestor with the modern overworld pig or to be direct descendants from overworld pigs, the Nether piglins and hoglins are a result of prehistoric Suina being transferred from the overworld into the harsh climate of the Nether dimension. Dimensional travel is known to have occurred several times in the past either to transfer varying civilizations across dimensions to traveling of varying species, etc., allowing for a great change in the affected species when they find an environment open for colonization and adaption.

However, the history of these species, particularly of the piglin are currently clouded in mystery, as even the piglin race itself seems to be struggling to reclaim not only a damaged culture, but a species that had been plagued by a deadly disease. When first encountered, most players knew of the piglins as ‘the pigmen’ particularly as the ‘zombie pigmen’ for that was of the limited showcasing seen of this race and species for some time.

Zombie pigmen (not showcased as they are simply piglin that have fallen victim to a ‘zombie’ infection like what can be observed in the overworld, though overworld zombies are a curious endeavor in themselves and shall be discussed in the future as well as their possible lead into the hypothesis of the lost civilizations of the past) were initially noted for being tuskless, blank eyed, and for the most part, harmless unless one of their groups were attacked.

They offered what was thought to be the only evidence of an extinct swine race with ancient fortress further solidifying this lost intelligence, however, this would be proven to be false when contact was made with unaffected piglin. These piglin seem to have been either in hiding or living within underground systems, though these exact settlements have been yet to be found by or shown to players.

Either way, piglins themsleves can showcase curious variance. Piglin are noted as follows; common, brutes, and proto.

Common piglin are the most often noted piglin after the society’s re-emergence to the Nether surface, tusk shapes and tusk sizes varying from differing families and areas, fur showcasing differing colors though most commonly ranging from dark maroons to pale pinks, and all having odd pale eyes. They hold a very guarded view of their hunting or roaming grounds though they will overlook those that wear gold or can be bribed for safe passage with gold ingots (which they will readily accept for trades of any knick-knacks they may be carrying with themsleves at the time of trade). Brute piglin are the second most common piglin groups and the most deadly of this group, though they are not another species or subtype and rather are an elite class of common piglin. They often train throughout childhood to best excel at direct fighting, using axes often as their choice of weapon, often differentiated from other more casual traders or hunters or explorers due to their specialized armor and noted eye-scars. All brutes, when they’ve finished their training as brutes, will be ceremonial marked with a blade over their left eye. Brutes will be commonly found guarding fortresses believed to be either sacred areas or remnants of their race’s ancient civilization (whichever it turns out to be, all that should be noted is these areas will be defended to the death and hoard notable treasure troves within their dark armored walls).

Finally there is the tuskless piglin, or the original ‘pigmen.’ They are one of the rarest variant and unlike the brute or common, they lack tusks and often have darker eyes than the pale gazes seen on other piglins. They however, are also one of the most peaceful, seeming to be almost outcasts as they will rarely wear gold themselves and tend to be found more isolated than others in their journeying. It is thought that they are some of the last ‘pure-blooded’ piglins left, the tusked variety actually being descended from those that had been infected with the deadly disease but instead of rotting away, seemed unaffected majorly. However, their pale eyes is what gives credit to this, for only those piglin infected have pale eyes and it seems as though while the ancient disease itself has either been overcome or became unable to further infect its hosts, remainders of the causer of this disease’s DNA remains through the generations, producing these pale eyes into the modern age as a byproduct of this ancient infection.

It’s unknown why the tuskless piglin and tusked piglin refuse to interact with one another, but it may have been due to some groups hiding away from anyone of their civilization that showcases even a possibilty of being infectious and when the groups re-emerged they had unintentionally changed so greatly from one another that cultural clashes and differences prevent effective remingling.

While I could go into the possible theories into what exactly this infection was (my personal theory involves the odd fungus seen within the Nether), I will save that tangent for another time and instead bring up the other curious species of swine in the Nether: the hoglin.

Hoglin, unlike piglin, are not so much a sentient race but rather feared predators that came back around the re-emergence of the piglins. The two races have a great rivalry between them and will readily hunt the other (though young of both species will intermingle and have been seen playing with one another until encountering one of the parties pissed off parents).

Hoglins themselves rely heavily on scent and hearing for they are nearly completely blind (though it is doubted that this is because of the ancient disease that killed off a majority of the piglin race and rather a result of increased use of scent and hearing and the eyes being practically useless with heavy smoke and sulfur in the air), ramming anything they believe to be food with their massive and muscular heads to gorge them on its sharp, forward curving tusks.

They are incredible deadly and territorial and it is often a mass celebration by piglins when witnessing the death of one of these creatures. Notable elsewise is that unlike the bipedal piglin, the hoglin remains quadpedal like its kin, the overworld pig. They however have very large and spread out feet rather than the more precise footing of the overworld pig, as they travel far distances to find food and often travel harsh distances across rough terrain.

Overall, Suina are a facsianting example of how easily organisms will thrive when given an opportunity. Possibly their ancestors came from the overworld following hexapod migrations into these areas, or perhaps they were leftovers from traveling past civilizations that spawned their own development and societies.

Perhaps the fortresses and strongholds noted today aren’t even of piglin construction and could infact be evidence of the lost civilizations that fled the overworld so many millennia ago, either way, the more we look into these races and species, the more opportunity we have to learn about the past of these varying dimensions.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Tongues & Fangs (Vampire!Graves/f!Reader/vampire!Shadow Company members)

Working as a personal toy for the vampire members of Shadow Company may not be your first choice while searching for a job, but oh boy, it's certainly the best one.

Idea of monster hybrid CoD characters belongs to @bluegiragi

AO3

CW: Unprotected sex, Blood kink, Power imbalance, size kink, Reader is a bit too docile and weak, group sex.

The mission was over and it could on;y mean one thing: homegirl, you are about to be fucked. 

Living in a world where monsters and weirdly scary inhumane hybrids were an open secret to everyone but, maybe, most of the civilians, was hard on its own. Living in a world where the greatest chuck of all power structured such as law reinforcement or an army consists of wild beasts, feeding off the bodies of most unlucky criminals or enemies, and would happily eat a normal citizen who just wants to proceed with their life, is terrible on its own. 

Fucking a whole fucking private military company because it’s the only job that was fine with your lack of college education – too expensive, too useless – and general moral characteristics. Your father always wanted a son, someone who could work in the army or police. And you do just that, living on the grounds of Shadow Company HQ and constantly being in the company of your battle brothers and sisters. Although sometimes…

— Ten, be careful. We still need to give a bit to others, remember? 

A grown man, maybe 6’ or even 6’1, is sucking on your bloodied fingers. A little sting from every time his tongue goes through the scathes, wiping them clean, sends a shiver down your spine. Shadow Ten – you are not sure whether they gave up their names willingly or it was something that Graves advised them to do as his servants – was always the first to get out of the shower and run to your embrace. The image of him, fucking beautiful male with nothing to indicate his monstrosity, expert for the dull absence of life on his eyes and fangs, that were gently cutting the mere fingertips of your fingers. 

Maybe, when your father said that you need to join the military to make him proud, he didn’t mean you to join them as their personal barrack bunny – or a sweet little bag of blood, all for them to use. Maybe, you are a disgrace to your family line – but Ten is looking at you with sheer adoration in his eyes, tongue licking every last drop from your shaky fingers. It stings a bit, you haven’t been sucked ever since the special unit went on a mission somewhere in the rural Siberia. 

— Sorry, sweets. I just missed ya. 

Sweets, babydoll, darling, doll, human – they had many names to you, the ones they would chant in the middle of the night, when you were too thoroughly drained out both physically and mentally, to even think about them, gently caressing you. 

He is finally letting go of your hands, allowing you to step up a bit and just sit on the bed, waiting for others to come. You still remember your first day on the job when your body still hasn’t adapted to the constant blood draining and you still haven’t fully processed the truth about this world – and tough reality where vampires and others monsters are a normal part of our society. You remember the uncomfy mattress that they threw on the floor for you and your bruised limbs from how hard you were fucked to the concrete floor. Graves made sure to buy you a comfortable bed and set a whole little room for the sessions after the first time you got almost knocked out.

— How was the mission?

— Commander is pleased. ‘said we’ll all get bonuses for the speed.

— I guess we all know what that means. 

— We missed ya. Commander especially.

You blushed. All Shadows were equally beloved by you, and they all deserved gentle treatment from your soft hands and the sweetness of your taste – but Graves was…hitting differently. Maybe because he is the leader of the group, a master vampire that is undoubtedly one of the strongest monsters in the whole country – or maybe because he has a bit of a habit of turning you into their spoiled little pet. 

The fate of being nothing but a glorified blood sack for the group that consists of one elite vampire and his loyal thralls can be seen as rather…terrible for a young woman. You, however, have nothing to worry about – you got all the benefits of being in the army, free healthcare, gifts, money that you will never get in a civilian job, and…well, the undying loyalty of monsters who all seemed to adore you just a bit too much. 

Your fingers are brushing Shadow 10’s hair, making him purr against the one hand that wasn’t bitten by him – he is still sucking on the other one, already making you feel dizzy even from the smallest paper cut that he inflicted. The night is going to be long – but you missed them too much to even care. 

He is finally letting go of you, sitting on the knees in front of the bed. Eyes are tired – even though you know that they can’t feel exhausted anymore, not after they became vampire servants. You still pet his head, murmuring sweet little nonsense while you have this tiny moment together. Soon, the others will flood the room, biting and scratching and making you moan ever so sweetly, not leaving your side for at least three or four hours. Until you will be drained completely, shaking and waiting for them to let go of your spent body. 

— They take longer than usual…

His head is on your lap, eyes looking at you like a puppy – it’s funny, how a vampire can resemble so many characteristics of a werewolf. You are smiling softly, trying not to think about how many people he killed today, or how many unregistered crimes your company has already committed. You are saving the world, after all – and if you can help them even by just spreading your legs and drinking enough cranberry juice to replenish your blood faster then you will take it. Like a good monster negotiator you are. 

Finally, the door swings open as the imposing figure of 2-0 appears in the doorframe. He smiles, already taking off his helmet. His dark skin almost glows in the soft lights of the room, eyes are filled with nothing but hunger – a familiar feeling, can recognize these eyes from miles apart. He notices that 10 is already taking place by your lap, acting like a pet dog to cater to your wishes – so the larger Shadow is looming over you in just two swift steps. Hands on your head, fingers caressing your face with a firmness that almost makes you anxious. Vampires are ten times stronger than humans, and he can crush you with just one move – but he can control themselves, and can take you as soft as you deserve it. 

— You already started dinner? Fucking hell, sweet cheeks, didn’t know you were so desperate for us. 

He chuckles and it immediately makes your cheeks go blushing red. He can sense just how aroused you are from having to meet all of your favorite people who returned from the mission hot – at least a vampire body can be – and bothered. Ready to take the bonuses their leader promised them as a prize for good work. 2-0 is a bit meaner than the others, you can connect it to the way he became a thrall – but you like them regardless of how rough their voices or actions can be. They are still your special boys, even if sometimes you can’t even open your eyes from everything that you have endured in the night with them. 

— I missed you, that’s all. You haven’t been out off the base for so long. 

— You could still go and annoy others. Or being a vampire whore suits you more, love? 

You blush again, feeling his soft hand caressing your hair. There are a lot of people on the base, Shadow Company consists of normal soldiers as well as the most secret, monster ones. But you and your sweet little gesture are reserved only for them, of course. You can’t waste your energy on humans while a bunch of vampires making you feel like their queen now, don’t you? 

— Now, boys, behave yourself. Let’s not call our precious slut princess such mean names, how about that? 

You can immediately feel how the temperature in the room just got up a few degrees. It’s impossible since it’s filled with vampires and their cold touches are making you shake in their hold, but your face is just too warm when Graves finally arrives. Looking at you with an equal amount of fondness and hunger – a wild mix that is making your throat dry and your legs very, very wet. 

— Commander! How was the mission? 

He smiles, leaning closer. He is still not touching you, only allowing Shadows to loom over you. Grab your wrist, graze their fangs among the soft skin. Some of them are biting you already, and it’s fascinating, how such big men can work in sync and place themselves among the bed so everyone could get at least one bite and a few quick seconds of sucking on your blood. They all work together as one unit, tossing your clothes to the side so they can touch you even more. Cold fingers gracing your wet folds, making you shiver from both temperature and anticipation – you just feel too hot, too warm in their embrace even if it feels like the ice being dragged out on your body. 

— Nailed their sorry asses. And we home by dinner, as you can see. 

They have been on this mission for two weeks – and you can already feel the way your blood is too much to contain in your body. When you regularly have sex with monsters, your body starts to make more…adjustments to make it as pleasurable to both sides as possible. And in your case, the blood has been replenished a bit too fast, making you a perfect little snack for the bunch of hungry vampires who are willing to burn down any country if this would mean spending another hour between your legs. 

— I missed you. All of you. 

He smirks, such an arrogant expression – this would make your blood boil if he would be just any other annoying military man, but oh no, Phillip is the one who has been eyeing you the whole month of your employment as a simple clerk for the company. Looking at your obedient and soft demeanor, as you were sorting out documents and writing perfect reports for their missions – and just how sweet you moaned when he had bitten you the first time, sucking so much blood that it was only by a miracle that you didn’t turn into a lesser vampire. 

You, however, made a perfect little toy for him and his boys – and you couldn’t be happier. 

— Of course. Can’t even sleep with us I bet. 

Shadow – you think it’s 0-3, he never takes off his helmet and is always so teasing with you, that it makes you cry even when he is simply touching you with his gloved fingers. Still so much bigger than yours, just one of his long digits are gently rubbing your folds only to go deeper, to collect your slick and show just how wet you are. 

Another person is showing two of their fingers inside, making you clench from the sudden stretch – you didn’t have sex in two weeks, after all, and are bound to be a bit more sensitive for this game. Shadow only chuckles, using two of their fingers to gently rub you from the inside. Feeling how your walls are tightening up from the invasion. It’s cold and your pussy feels like it’s melting, the contrast is too much for you to handle – maybe, you should be a bit ashamed of how aroused you are from such rough foreplay when two digits are inside of you, and the third, glowed one, is pressing and rubbing small circles on your clit. 

Someone is biting your neck, blood dripping to your collarbones and collecting into small droplets before falling even further. Sweet red path for your favorite monsters and 2-0 already has his tongue on it. Dragging a long lick from your neck and down to your stomach. Pressing cold lips against sensitive spots of your skin. Making you moan and shiver, clenching the fingers even more. It’s almost too much, a human body shouldn’t be experiencing so much pleasure from just one session, but here you are – hands gently pressing and tugging on your body, tongues covering you with icy cold mix of their saliva and your blood. 

And Graves, looking at you like the king of it all – which he certainly is. 

— Enjoying yourself, doll? 

You can’t even master a soft smile, too caught up in the feelings as one of the Shadows is sliding his dick inside of you. He is average, maybe a bit on the longer side, but he is perfectly fit to your clenching walls, and you can’t be presentable enough not to moan like a slut when he starts moving, finally meeting your hips with his. 

Maybe, you should have a bit more morale when one of the vampire trolls is ramming his length inside of you, not caring if the pacing is too fast, and two other Shawods are sucking little bruises into your chest. Not forgetting to bite this sweet flesh of yours, leaving behind bloody trails that are getting licked by the others. Not a single droplet of blood goes to waste, and the soldiers can be very resourceful – they are kissing you with hunger. Something so primal and deep, that no human can ever hope to understand – and yet, you are enduring it, moaning sweet songs for the vampires around you. 

Phillip smirks again and leans closer, finally taking your hand into his. Fangs – bigger than everyone else’s – are biting your wrist, sucking all of the excessive blood that was collected here while they were gone. He is always so passionate about biting you, never doing it as a simple act of feeding on you. Shadow company has its own blood storages and enough convicted criminals to feed off alive people as long as they would like – but you are their beloved pet, a cute treasure that they are hiding just to use for their pleasure alone. And oh, how much you enjoy when he is dragging his tongue among everyone else’s bite marks. 

Shadow rocks his hips deeper, inviting you to scream his number – they forget their names after they became eternal servants to Shadow Company – and beg him to be faster, to bring you much-anticipated pleasure. And he obliges happily while Phillip is taking care of your lips, biting and kissing them at the same time. Allowing you to taste your own blood on his tongue, to feel just how mad you drive them by merely existing. 

There is no rush in their actions, they are calm and collected – like one giant organism, when just one of the Shadows finished inside, painting your walls with its coldness, another one takes his place. Vampires can indulge in mortal pleasures such as good food, drinks, and sex – and oh, princess, you are combining all three of these. 

— Such an obedient toy for us. Can’t even cum without our hands, hm? 

Phillip smirks again, talking softly right into your ear. A hand is pressing on your stomach, making you feel a much larger dick inside of you, readjusting your insides for their liking, leaving you as nothing but their doll. Perfectly obedient and sweet for everyone who would need your skills to pass some exhaustion. 

Shadows are not using you just for your blood – your whole body is a special prize for them, making everyone's performance even greater as they know that shall the mission be a success, they will be rewarded with extended time between your legs, or on your neck and soft embrace of your arms. Unfortunately, you are human – and can’t take a vampire’s affection as easily as you would want. So, they had to make certain adjustments, only touching you when they need to recharge after work, and only if your blood was replenished and in need of a bit of…”trimming”. 

Graves looks at you for a few seconds, before placing his firm hand on your neck, Making you moan as this position blocked your breathing for just a bit, as you clench around the length that was still penetrating your already soaked and used hole. It’s big, and even the wetness of your folds is not enough not to feel stung as it deepens inside of you, painting you as their property. You feel the kiss again, Shadow 4-1 presses his larger body against you, smiling as you whine a bit into his lips. He is cold, they all are – but you still feel the warmth spreading in your body, and just how obediently they were searching for it, making you share the heat of alive body among those who stopped breathing years ago. 

Second Shadow is much rougher, you can feel his dick twitching inside of your gummy walls, as you are trying to relax as much as possible, knowing that they won’t get enough until you are fucked thoroughly and each of your holes is stuffed with them. Even though they are immortal, they still have the patience of someone who doesn’t have much time. 

Fingers entering your properly lubed and already prepared – just a bit of fun while waiting for your team to return – asshole. You are still tight, still too hot for them to control their instincts – and soon one digit turns into two, then the third gets added to your already relaxed walls. Someone is kissing you again, right before leaning back and propping their dick in front of your already swollen lips. 

It’s magical almost, how all of them are managing to move in unison, to enter and exit your body with harmony that just cannot be normal. And yet you are filled completely, not a single hole being left without something entering it. None of them are small, you can feel two dicks moving inside of you, kissing your folds with a firmness that only monsters are capable of. They can’t get tired, they can just use your body as much as they would want – but they are trying to be soft, not to break their favorite little toy, even if you look too tempting like this. 

Stctetched and wet, with your liquids covering your lower stomach and hips, as you feel them relentlessly pushing. You can’t even moan through your orgasm, your mouth is stuffed with lengths that made your jaw and throat hurt a little. Graves is squeezing your throat even more, making you cry and gag, sending vibration down the core of one of the Shadows – you think it might be 4-0, but it doesn’t even matter anymore. They all gave up their names and faces when being reborn as thralls, and you can’t discriminate between them. 

All Shadows are adoring you – and you can feel it in just how hard they are, how firm their hands and bites on your body are. Phillip kisses your forehead while still caressing and squeezing your throat, and you still cough relentlessly, gagging on the dick that was still being stuffed in your mouth – moved ever so carefully, not to make you actually sick. You feel like a chewing toy that was thrown out to hungry dogs – which, again, was quite funny since none of them were werewolves. 

Someone is touching your clit, not even letting you fall from the heights of your first climax, already preparing you for the second. A hand is moving on your stomach, pushing the little bump that was created from the combined length of dicks stuffed in your holes, and you squirm, feeling just how insanely tiny you are around them. You barely have any place in you, even just one dick in your ass is more than enough to make you tremble and beg for kindness – but oh, vampires are cruel creatures and they know exactly how much you can take before breaking. 

Graves is pushing another finger in you, among the length that was already pushing inside of your soft abused pussy, all red and swollen from your combined liquids when the first Shadow that was fucking you, finally finished. He is still hard and stays still inside of you for a few seconds, allowing his commander to make you squeal on his fingers. It’s not going to fit, even just one finger is too much and you are crying already, mouth trembling and eyes watering – but he pushes again. Adds another finger. 

— Don’t act so shy, doll. I know just how badly you want it. 

And the worst thing – he is right. First Shadow exits your body, a trail of cold liquid makes a mess between your legs, before being immediately stuffed right back into your already used hole, as the second one takes his place. There are simply too many people who were working on the missions and deserved a little treat for being such good little vampires – and they all love you too much to ever stop touching you. 

Maybe not everyone would get their fill today, but there is still tomorrow. And the day after. And the whole week before anything new on the job will come out and you will be allowed to rest without icy cold hands on your body, fangs penetrating your skin and little praises whispered sweetly. 

— Such a good girl for us. 

— Missed ya too much, sugar. 

— Can’t believe you’re still so tight after all of this. 

— Tell us when you’re tired, okay? We can just fuck you tomorrow, just say a word. 

— Feels so good around me, princess. Gonna drink a bit more, m’kay? 

Teeth on your skin again, someone is gently sucking on your hardened nipple – thankfully, without breaking the skin and drawing some blood. They can control themselves when they know that they can genuinely hurt you – and so you just close your eyes, allowing them to play with your breasts. Phillip is placing one hand on your chest, squeezing the soft flesh, and playing with your sensitive bud, grazing it with his rough fingertips. Making you feel dizzy from the sensation of the gentle touches, rough bites on your naked hips and relentless thrusting in your body. 

Shadow in your mouth finally comes, making you cry again, throat swelled around his thickness. It’s too cold for your and you are coughing, immediately feeling soft hands caressing your hair. Thanking you for being such a good toy for them, for being so soft and obedient – even when their touches were crossing the line between hurting and arousing you. 

Sometimes they can’t control themselves, biting just a bit too much, forgetting how fragile a human body can be – especially yours, already thoroughly fucked by at least four shadows in a row. Many of them are cumming even without being inside of you, covering your shivering body with even greater amounts of cold. It almost feels a bit too much, even when the general temperature in the room is quite warm. But thralls can be a bit too much, forgetting about self-control just enough to make you cry and whine, begging them to give you a break while no one can hear what you are saying through your moans and sweet little sounds – and this is when Phillip finally comes to play with you for longer than a few lingering touches. 

— Alright, shadows, our doll is pretty tired for today. Let’s give her a nice last round and return tomorrow, hm? 

He loves you and cares about your soft, fragile mortal body. However, not enough to actually give you time to rest while he knows, that you can handle this again, just one last time. He may not be the biggest one of the monsters – some people from the team are built like natural beasts – but he is certainly the strongest. Vampires have their charming abilities, allowing them to make you so sweet and docile to their actions, but his authority is something that comes not just from him being a master – but also purely from his behavior. 

Firm hands are placed on your waist, making you freeze in one place on the bed. He smiles at you, an arrogant look in your eyes that makes you smile involuntarily and open your legs just for a bit. Enough to make a mess again, the combined liquids of you and all of the other vampires – and not a small blood stain. They are never allowing even a single droplet to waste.

— Relax, sweetheart. You can take it. 

He bites your neck, fangs cutting deep into your soft skin. Ducking the most amount of blood than everyone today – the right of the commander, to use you like nothing but his personal three-course meal. Satisfying every means of hunger that he could have. 

Graves kisses and bites you at the same time, placing the tip against your entrance. You are clenching around nothing, too fucked up to even think about how messy and slutty you look like – stretched open holes, filled to the brim with their cum, lips swollen and face wet from tears and sweat. Eyes closing and opening, Heavy breathing, as he thrust deeper, filling you in one quick movement. 

He is big, long and thick – and he knows your body too well, he brushes against your sweet and sensitive spot. Fingers already working on your clitoris, not allowing you even a ten-minute break from your previous orgasm. Maybe he can’t fill you like some of the other Shadows, but what he may lack in certain seized, he compensates in experience – hips beating in yours, leaving soft skin bruised. He is strong, maybe a bit too much for you – bit gods, just how much you like him thrusting inside of you, ignoring all of your dishonest pleas of being slower. 

— Please, please. oh god…f-fuck, Commander, I can’t…

You feel your breathing getting faster and faster. He presses one hand against the forming bulge in your stomach, smiling with pride in his eyes as you are closing your eyes again, the sensation too much for your poor body. Shadows are encouraging him to be faster, stronger, to touch you more, make you climax every second as you deserve to be treated as a princess – and fucktoy at the same time. 

— You can, doll. Just take it like a good girl, you almost here.

— Please, I can’t…can’t cum again, it’s too much. 

You are begging, and it only makes him smile more. Gentle kiss on your temple, hips moving even faster against your body. He is close, but he wants you to cum first, to claim that he is still the strongest in his team. Assert dominance as their master. And you are not sure if you can even handle this, in a state like this – especially. 

— Just one more, for me. Look so fucking pretty like this, doll. 

His hips are arching more, making every rough thrust even stronger. You can almost feel how the bruises are forming on your ass from just his movements, but you don’t really care – you were more interested in how gently he rubbed your swollen clit, playing with soft flesh as gently as a monster can. The contrast alone is enough to make you feel silly and blubbery, leaving you without the ability to speak comprehensively – but he likes it even more. Turning you into their obedient doll. And you liked it just like that. 

Phillip uses one hand to steady your body, holding you by your waist, and the other – to tease and stimulate you. Other Shadows are gently rubbing your hair, and your chest, playing just a bit with your tummy and bite marks that they left – no one is allowed to fuck you while the commander is using your body, but they are pretty content with simply making you feel good. Making you cry from understanding just how much they adore you. 

— She is so pretty while fucked stupid. 

— Don’t ever want to leave her again while she cries like that. 

— I’ll take the aftercare duty. 

— Fuck you, I wanted to do that! 

— Shadows, for the love of…just shut the fuck up. You all can take turns while caring about our sweet lady right here but don’t make a mess. She needs to rest normally, without your hungry asses. 

Phillip can seem cruel and uncaring – but he smiles, looking at your fucked dumb face, and kisses you so gently, so sweetly, making sure that you are overstimulated just enough to make you cum for him, but not enough to actually make you uncomfortable. The firm rocking of his hips is just enough to make your cunt clench around his once more, while he is not stopping even when you are finally finished for the last time. You are spent, completely. It’s hard, not to be like this when he is literally making everything in his power to make you go crazy around him. 

He picks up the pace after you feel from the heights of your climax, almost being too rough – but oh, it’s so worth it, when his cold release is making you clench one last time. Your insides feel too hot and uncomfortably messy – but his lower temperature is just enough to make you relax, finally opening your eyes and smiling at him with nothing but sheer exhaustion. 

— Did so good for me, hun. 

— Th…thank you, sir. 

He kisses you, licking the small droplets of your blood. Maybe, being in a relationship with a bunch of monsters is no good – but you didn’t care as long as they love you so much. 

[boopshoops]

hiya!! for the ask thing can I ask for Food and Name for Jocia and Yuu Shi? tysm!!!

(also baby goats baby goats baby goats-)

Name: What does your twst OC's name mean? Why does Rook/Floyd call them [insert nickname]?

OH i have- lots of lil lore tidbits for this

Jocia, according to my research waaaay back when I finally looked into her name (I deadass thought I just made it up at first), is typically associated with "joy!" Though Im sure that was obvious from the almost constant glare on her face /sar. It is also a different form of the name Jocelyn, a German name. I always pronounced it Jo-sha til I learned it was supposed to be- well, exactly as its spelled, Jo-see-ah.

Floyd calls her Barracuda! Initially I was going to have that be what he called Yuu, but the "catfish" pun was too good for me to pass on. So- what else could I do but hand over the title to Jo? Plus I think it fits her better :P Primarily due to how the barracuda is more known for how they hunt and fight.

They are known to be ferocious, attacking quickly and using ambush techniques (similar to a certain pair of tweels). They are also known to just straight up take fish from other species, even human divers- besides that, they don't really attack humans unprovoked. Barracudas also compete with moray eels for food/prey.

I feel like this relates back to how Jocia "handles" her anger- or- howshetakesitout on people around her who wrong her/those she cares about. She is ruthless and fearsome at times, but for the most part she prefers to just... chill. She doesn't purposefully go seeking out trouble when she's in the right place mentally.

Rook calls her "Reine des épices" (pls excuse any mistakes, blame the translator), which translates to "Queen of Spice!" This is honestly more of a personal reference. Me and my partner always used to joke that Jocia was kinda like a pepper- and would often use 🌶️ when joking about her. It's mostly due to her fiery, hot-tempered nature.

Yuu- is- well, yuu. I didnt come up with that, i just snatched it JFNDJDJ. HOWEVER. "Shi" can have many different meanings! I tried my best to go for something vague. I like the thought of having something that leaves you guessing what applies and what doesnt. However! It can actually also mean "you." Yuushi as a whole can translate to "hero!" (Another ironic take, I know)

Floyd calls her catfish bc. It's funny. I think it's funny and I'd bet $20 that he'd think it's funny. So it's catfish KFNDJDK

Besides the obvious- (pretending to be someone she isnt), catfish can live in almost any aquatic climate, making them rather adaptable. They have a large range of size and behavior, and are most well known for their stinging "whiskers." (Glances at shi's taser) They ALSO compete with eels for prey- as long as they arent a small enough species, then theyd become the prey.

Rook calls her "Reine du Rock", which means "Queen of Rock"- this one is just simple. She loves rock music. She plays it all the time, and it is what she most enjoys performing. Again i am not a good translator trust me i tried to learn another languagemybrainjustcant

Another fact, the twin's parents switched them around at birth on accident, and forgot who they named what initially. It's entirely possible that Yuu was supposed to be named Jocia, but they don't know :P they fight over who is older bc of this too.

Food: What is your twst OC's favorite and least favorite food? Why (optional)? Is there anyone they can share their favorite food? Is there anyone they can count on to take over the food they dislike?

I went into this a lil bit with Yuu in the past during different ask games! Here and here. And a lil bit for Jo here. (Their fav and why<)

Yuu Shi is partial to suggesting treats to Trey- whether he actually makes Bungeoppang or just uses Doodle Suit, it is currently her easiest means of getting it when she only had it a few times prior. So, sure, she'll share... sometimes.

Jocia- given she is partial to a barbequed dish, she could share it with Leona given his love for meat... but WOULD she? No.

Yuu Shi would never subject anyone else to caffeine even if they really enjoyed it, unless that someone is the sink drain.

As for Jocia... really, she didnt have too much against olives. They were bad, yeah, but not horrible. She hated the way they made her tongue itch, though... and then she figured out that they weren't supposed to do that. She's allergic. Yuu Shi used to take them for her, but there isn't really anyone who enthusiastically WANTS them either.