#and show drafts only to several close friends)

[tenok]

.

[thatdeadaquarius]

Have some more language brainrot for your brainrot

Writer reader getting kind of insecure that even if they write something nobody will understand it, so when Al haithem askes you if he can keep a draft or two just for analyzing, there's hesitant agreement but ultimately you tell him to please burn the documents once he's done. They're too awkward to look at now...

Only he doesn't burn them, in fact he ends up recruiting several people close to the creator with knowledge of olden speak to analyze them. A funeral parlor consultant well known for his historical knowledge, a 500 year old shrine maiden who owns and runs her own publishing house, and a bard who somehow butted his way in on the project. None of them could resist the opportunity to witness the creator's sacred scriptures with their own eyes.

Needless to say, the papers ended up being fought over and have been making their rounds around your acolytes. It started with Ei, who insisted that as an archon she also should see the creator's work with her own eyes. Then once Ningguang found out, she ordered they be handed over to a team of literary analysts in order to be properly handled and deciphered. Things got really messy quick, but have luckily come to a halt as none of the acolytes want the creator to know their random writings are being fought over.

Especially when it comes to the creator's sullen additute. Their acolytes first have to convince their holiness that their inability to read and understand the creator's writing shouldn't prevent you from doing what you love. In fact... could they convince you to write some more?

WRITER OR READER WITH TALENTS HAS MY WHOLE HEART LIKE-

On one hand, same 💀 id be terrified for my all time fav skrunklies to see my bs

But at the same time i rlly wanna show them goddamit- THANK U FOR THE BRAIN FOOD IM RUNNING LAPS AROUND MY HOUSE THINKING ABT THIS-

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them), Writer!Reader

Planet: Language Shenanigans

Orbit: Scenario

Stars: Alhaitham mostly, some of Kaveh, mentions of other Sumeru characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Insecure about craft/writing, anxious first pov (not serious),

& Trigger Warnings: Mild Negative self-talk, insecure perspective/reader “you”, possible anxiety depiction.

You were not a very confident writer.

This had been an avoidable feeling ever since you picked up a pen for the first time and were asked to write a story for school.

You were always anxious turning in essays, letting friends proofread them, anything that would expose your writing to more eyes, because you’d learned the hard way early on that as you get older and better at something, the stuff from the beginning… starts to look a lot different than you remember.

things you used to be proud of after having completed them in the moment, were something you struggled not to rip to shreds a year or two after you re-found it.

If it weren’t for other writers advising holding onto old work so you can see your progress over time, you’d have probably literally nothing older than one year on your ao3, wattpad, etc…

So when you had the fortunate luck (no it is not unfortunately, you are very happy to be here tbh) to fall headfirst into your video game you’ve been obsessed with lately,

You were not planning on showing them any of your writing.

Why would you, after all? You’ve got the weapons, the artifacts, everything they need to be more powerful. Why would you show them a silly little story you wrote? Fanfic or otherwise, not that theyll recognize any characters besides themselves, but still.

Alhaitham, bc ofc it was alhaitham, cocky, deviously aware bastard he is, caught you writing in your spare time first.

You’d gotten your hands on an old journal (if made you feel better than something completely new, a nice worn leather journal, sold at a secondhand shop from an old adventurer) and had started to write what you could remember about some of your ideas you’d had drafts for in your old world

After initially walking in on you writing in the House of Daena (it was the closest you could get to lofi girl, god u missed her lmao), you nearly jumped a foot in the air bc Haitham’s a nosy bitch and leaned over your shoulder and scared the absolute shit out of you, mans goes from asking politely, to begging you to let him read some of your writing over the course of 3 weeks (a month really)

Finally, after this 6 ft (about 180cm) man leans down one day (you’re sitting writing again), and gives you the most insanely good?? puppy dog eyes??? you’ve ever seen on a man???

you give in, revise a draft about 5 times in a row, lose sleep bc ur having a breakdown about alhaitham judging ur writing the night before you give him his copy-

and hand over a small short story for him to read. you specifically leave a little note not to judge you so hard for Haitham bc u werent used to people reading ur work/let alone someone as highly academic as him, ESPECIALLY since your speech is already so much more archaic than his/all of Teyvats-

His stupid green eyes with diamonds look into your soul (are they sparkling??) and he braces your shoulders after you give him his copy,

“Mine Greatest Guide, you hath deemed this one worthy of thy trust of your creations personally, I would be a fool to gaze upon it in jest. To take this work as anything less than a masterpiece in its infant stages.”

…you just leave him to it, and are nearly running out of there (u managed to be calm enough to just speedwalk),

and you make a point to not ask what he thought about it, or even bring it up at all

you’re kind of hoping he forgot tbh… and so nothing happens!

◇

Nothing happens… for 2 weeks after you gave Haitham a copy of your short story.

You still don’t know Alhaitham’s opinion when you see the advertisement, a sign saying something about, a new book? By YOU???

You nearly start a mob because the shopkeeper insisted you sign some copies, but you only signed a few before too many people overwhelmed you, and seeing it was that same draft- !! Oh god, you’d been agonizing over the spelling errors you’d missed when you gave it to Alhaitham, and now it’s just out there???

(luckily it seems the reviews are positive, but dammit you’ve been rereading ur story u gave him for days, and now ur positive it’s shit-)

You make a break for it, and are literally running (more like speed-walking after a while, since u got further away) thru Sumeru City:

you pass by the open patio of a restaurant, the scholars are heatedly discussing ur characterization-

you pass by Dehya, Candace, and Dunyazard, the merc is waving around a copy of ur book, the other two women look excited abt the conversation-

oh my god-

Nahida is relaxing in one of the many little gazebos thruout Sumeru, while Wanderer seems to be reading your story to her-

You fucking track down Alhaitham’s house like a bloodhound.

You are banging the infamous gay roommates’ front door, panting til ur throat burns raw.

“Yes, yes, alright, greetings to you too! I was simply visiting the Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, tis why I’m here- Greatest Lord?!”

Kaveh is nearly jumps a foot in the air at the sight of you, but recovers, (you’re still not tho lmao)

and invites you in bc apparently, Alhaitham’s been meaning to talk to you about your draft you gave him!

Oh yeah, you’ve got some words to give Haitham after giving him that damn draft privately-

But when he sees you, the fucker just- smiles??

Like he’s done nothing wrong???

You’re about to tear into him when he speaks first to tell you the good news!

He grabs your hands at the table and gets down on one knee, ohhhh no.

Alhaitham is giving you those damn begging puppy dog eyes again.

“My Greatest Lord, Giver of Power, and Guide to All, your exquisite story has entranced all of Teyvat, might I please insist you write a sequel? It is an excellent literary piece to analyze… or perhaps, even better, share other stories you’ve written??”

…

….Motherfucker.

☆

Hello I’m alive! I just took a longer-than-usual break between posts from those last 2 mammoth pieces about gifts,

1: bc they were a lot to write in between writing other stuff like fanfics im already working on lol 2: I got busy with holidays and trying to apply to jobs!

Not that I’m still not doing that.. but you get what I mean!

Safe Travels Anon,

That being said, as you’ve probably noticed, I’ve made a kofi! so if you ever liked my writing (hot mess it is) and want to show me some love, feel free to leave a tip! :]

Iced coffee?? :0

💀♒

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche

[somegrumpynerd]

Since Dream and Blue hcs are on my mind here's one I put in my drafts like a month ago and never remembered to post:

Dream thinks he had a crush on Blue, even though he didn't.

They're both some flavour of aro/ace and don't realise it (or possibly even know that it's a thing).

Dream had never really given much thought to romance or anything like that, other than when he and Nightmare were kids and the villagers would mention it and they'd both go "ewww gross" and move on. He'd also never really had a super close friendship besides his brother, the villagers were nice but they were also kind of using him so it wasn't that deep.

So when they started hanging out and Blue was so full of positive energy and joy and always eager to help and interested in Dream's stuff and showing him all these new things and being so nice to him... Dream suddenly realised oh no, is this romance?? Do I wanna kiss and get married right now???

(It wasn't, he loves Blue so so much but it's all platonic)

So he tried to keep it a secret out of fear (fear of ruining the friendship if something went wrong, fear that Blue wouldn't like him back like that, fear that he had no idea how to court someone and what if he got it wrong???) but eventually he ended up confessing it to Blue, who took it super normally and sorted everything out with a simple talk.

SIKE he actually gave Dream the full Papyrus date treatment.

He took Dream to his favourite place (his room, where Dream had already been several times) and put on his coolest outfit (which Dream had already seen him wear several times) and tried to impress him with gifts and food (this is genuinely just like, a thursday for them none of this is new).

Eventually he hit Dream with the "OH NO. IT'S CLEAR YOU'VE FALLEN MADLY IN LOVE WITH ME!!" ("I have?? D:>") and confessed he didn't wanna kiss or get married or any of that other stuff, but he would keep being Dream's coolest friend and help him through this difficult time, much to Dream's relief.

And they went right back to normal and are as close as ever. The only difference is sometimes Ink brings it up to embarrass Dream. The end.

[gravitywonagain]

Inquiring Minds

holy shit, i finished a thing. well, a draft of a thing, but still counts!

based on this post about wwx being just dead enough be susceptible to the compulsion of inquiry

--

It was, in retrospect, the stupidest possible way to be found out. Wei Wuxian will readily admit that. Unfortunately, the level of stupidity was not a determining factor for the level of reality — as was the case for so much of Wei Wuxian’s life.

It all happened because one of the two dozen Jin disciples who bothered to show up to the war got a little drunk and a lot prideful and ended up starting a fight he couldn’t finish. Or, that was the going theory, anyway. The Jin leadership — such as it was — wanted an investigation done. As if they had nothing better to do. As if there weren’t reasons to be conserving spiritual power and not wasting it playing Inquiry for a guy who had decided to pick a fight — hopefully, hopefully it was a fight — with a Nie disciple who, granted, did not have the startling musculature of some of her shixiongs, but was still a fucking Nie disciple! 

This guy was not worth their time. This guy was not worth Lan Zhan’s time. Or his attention, or his spiritual power, or the stress it would put on his guqin strings— okay, maybe Wei Wuxian should have taken a moment to purge some of his resentment before walking into the tent. 

But he didn’t. This is important. 

Because then Lan Zhan began to play. 

And there was this strange… tugging sensation in the pit of Wei Wuxian’s gut, right where his golden core was supposed to be, pulling him toward Lan Zhan, or toward the empty space in front of Lan Zhan. 

Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have ignored it. He gets that now. He does. But he always wanted to be near Lan Zhan, and his body had been doing all kinds of weird shit since he’d had his core cut out, and who was to say this wasn’t just another weird side effect. 

Well. It was. A weird side effect. After a fashion. 

But that’s not the point! 

He should have noticed then. He should have left then. But he didn’t. 

The melody changed and the tugging sensation stopped. Which was great! 

Until something else started. It felt like a kind of drunkenness, light and hazy in his head, loose around his tongue. Three or four bowls in. 

He shook himself to dislodge it, but the motion only drew a sharp glare from Jiang Cheng. 

The tent was full of spectators. At least two representatives from each major clan were present, plus several “close friends” of the victim -- like four of the fifteen total Jin disciples -- who probably just wanted something else to do outside of eat, sleep, and fight. Wei Wuxian couldn’t blame them, exactly, war was remarkably boring most of the time, but it was getting awfully stuffy in there. 

Lan Zhan changed the melody again, something almost lexical about it. Wei Wuxian could almost hear the question being asked, even before Zewu Jun’s voice chimed in, translating for anyone who didn’t know the qin language — which was pretty much everyone else in the tent besides the Twin Jades — “What is your name?” 

Wei Wuxian caught his own response between his lips, pressing them together tightly, as the guqin sounded three distinct notes which Zewu Jun reported as Jin Zixin. 

So, good. It was the right guy. That was great. Nothing weird at all. 

He should have left then. He didn’t. 

Lan Zhan played again, and again Wei Wuxian thought he understood the phrase, the question, even before Zewu Jun said for the tent, “How did you die?”

Wei Wuxian felt the answer fly to the tip of his tongue and bit his teeth around it, through it. His cheek bled with the force of keeping quiet. 

It was weird. So weird. But maybe, Wei Wuxian justified to himself, maybe it was just an effect of holding a secret inside for so long and having someone actually ask the question out loud. Maybe, it was just the same automatic reaction of answering with your name when someone asked for it. Maybe he was just too fucking tired, and the resentment under his skin just wanted something to laugh at, something to entertain itself with. Like the five of ten Jins standing in the back of the tent. War was boring, okay?

The notes from Lan Zhan’s guqin hung in the air, resonant and waiting. The moment seemed to stretch out too long. It dragged and Wei Wuxian gradually felt the words stop fighting him to escape. 

But the Jin ghost didn’t answer either. 

When Lan Zhan played the same phrase over — “How did you die?” echoed on Zewu Jun’s tongue — the compulsion was much stronger. This time it was like Wei Wuxian could feel Lan Zhan’s spiritual power pouring through him; the strongest of wines, several jars of it. 

He couldn’t fight it. 

His mouth opened. 

I fell. I fell. I fell. 

“I fell.”

All eyes in the tent turned to him. 

Jiang Cheng’s elbow caught him in the ribs. He didn’t even bother to glare. He said, “Not you, Idiot.” 

The qin sounded and everybody looked back to Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun, waiting to hear the Jin disciple’s answer. 

Zewu Jun hesitated for the barest of moments, stuttering into the start of his translation before finding the confidence of his voice once more, recounting whatever it was that the ghost had strummed out. 

Wei Wuxian didn’t hear a word he said. He was, instead, pierced on two sides. 

On one: Jiang Cheng muttered to himself, “Wait,” and then his eyes went wide as he looked back at Wei Wuxian. 

On the other: Lan Zhan’s fingers froze above the strings of his guqin and he turned to stare over his shoulder at Wei Wuxian with something like horrified understanding dawning within his gaze. 

Wei Wuxian finally realized he should fucking leave. Immediately. 

He wanted to run. He knew better. Knew what that would look like. 

Instead, he was going to simply walk out of this tent as he had walked out of so many already during this campaign. Gravel crunched under his heel as he turned. 

But his brother knew him too well. Jiang Cheng’s hand clamped tight around Wei Wuxian’s bicep, his grip unyielding. With his golden core, Wei Wuxian might have been able to break it. But the real bitch of it was that it was his golden core that was holding him in place. 

Jiang Cheng tensed as if readying for a fight, but Wei Wuxian already knew how that fight would end. So he let himself be restrained. 

He turned back to face the Inquiry. 

Lan Zhan was still staring at him when Zewu Jun finished speaking. He was still so stuck in place that his brother had to prompt him into finishing the ritual. Which he did, with all the grace and skill expected of him. He really was just so beautiful to watch. 

All the while, Wei Wuxian listened to the music and bit through his tongue to keep it silent. The questions continued to drag at him -- “Do you know who killed you?” Wen Chao. “Do you have any last requests?” To leave this fucking tent. -- though the pressure to answer eased significantly as the Jin ghost became less stubborn about it. Wei Wuxian settled for reciting the answers to them in his head until they no longer felt pressed against the thin seam of his mouth. 

It took approximately sixteen-hundred years. 

All seven Jin disciples supporting the war effort left the tent after the ghost had recounted his final moments. The attempted sexual assault was not unexpected, judging by their faces, but still disappointing to hear about. Clearly not the entertainment they were hoping for. Luckily for Wei Wuxian, they were apparently too wrapped up in their Jin nonsense to realize new entertainment was fidgeting in the corner and trying not to sever the tip of his tongue completely. 

The Nie, represented by Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, left shortly after the ritual concluded. If Nie Mingjue had to tug his brother away, Wei Wuxian was too busy keeping his mouth shut to comment on it. 

And then there were just the four of them. Plus the corpse. But they were like six months into a war, so the corpse didn’t actually seem to bother any of them. It hadn’t even started to smell yet. It was still pretty intact, too, and now that it was verifiably a criminal, Wei Wuxian wondered idly if the Jin would let him use it in their next battle. Probably not. 

His idle wondering ceased abruptly as his brother’s fingers bit deeper into the meat of his arm. 

“Wei Wuxian,” he said, all of his surely filial worry for his gege boiling over into a spitting, incandescent fury. He never had to say he loved his brother, Wei Wuxian could always tell. It was the teeth gnashing that gave him away. “What the fuck do you mean you fell?” 

Right. 

Wei Wuxian played it as cool as he could with a definitely-not-bleeding tongue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jiang Cheng.” He shrugged, but his arm didn’t move very far. 

“You answered Inquiry,” said Lan Zhan. Succinct as ever. 

“No!” Wei Wuxian said, maybe a little too loud, but not at all childishly. 

Zewu Jun narrowed his eyes and pulled out his xiao. Wei Wuxian tried not to flinch about it, he did. But Zewu Jun only played a short, non-Inquiry melody, and a shimmering, blue barrier manifested around the interior of the tent. 

“No,” Wei Wuxian said again, this time at a totally normal volume. “I was just… messing around. You know how I do that, Lan Zhan. Always a rule breaker.” He grinned, desperately trying to play it all off. Realizing faster and faster how very badly this was going for him. 

Lan Zhan surprised him, then, saying, “Not when it matters.” 

“What?”

“Wei Ying doesn’t break rules when they matter.” 

Wei Wuxian didn’t know where the fuck that was coming from. But he couldn’t say he hated it. 

Except that he did, because it was going to be a problem for this whole I’m just a silly rascal defense he was setting up. 

Jiang Cheng still hadn’t let go of his arm. His fingernails were starting to split the fabric of his sleeve. And worse, his eyebrows were scrunched together in the way they do when he’s thinking through all the angles of a problem. 

Zewu Jun still had his xiao in hand, and he was looking at Wei Wuxian like he was deciding whether to perform an exorcism or an execution. 

But Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan hadn’t moved from his seat on the mat. He had turned his body so that he was facing Wei Wuxian, giving him his full attention, and was looking up at him with… pain in his eyes. Shining, wet pain. 

“You died?” he asked. “Are you dead?”

“I don’t…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. He couldn’t find the words. 

He didn’t know. Which was, possibly, not the best sign. 

“I can’t be dead,” he said, looking over at Zewu Jun, Jiang Cheng, then back to Lan Zhan. “Can I?”

Zewu Jun, still wary, said, “You responded to the compulsion in Inquiry. Inquiry is a song that speaks to and compels answers from the dead. It does not generally work on the living.” 

“Well--” Wei Wuxian started, defensive and scared. But again, he didn’t really know where to go with that. 

“Where were you, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng asked him. “Why didn’t you meet me at the bottom of the hill?” 

Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun shared a look. They didn’t seem to know what Jiang Cheng was talking about. But Wei Wuxian really, really, didn’t want to get into that whole mess. If anyone was going to see right through him and his flimsy tale about suddenly remembering the location of Baoshan Sanren’s mountain, it would be Lan Zhan. Actually, Zewu Jun would probably figure it out, too. And then maybe even Jiang Cheng. Now that he wasn’t all broken and desperate and gullible. 

Fuck. With the way Jiang Cheng was looking at Wei Wuxian, the way his hand released some of the pressure around his arm, he might already have. 

Wei Wuxian laughed, hoping it came off more smoothly than it felt in his chest. “Ah, Jiang Cheng.” He brought his own hand up to lay over his brother’s. “What if I told you--”

“No,” Jiang Cheng cut him off. “No more bullshit. Where were you?”

The mirth, false as it was, drained out of Wei Wuxian as he saw the pain building behind his brother’s eyes. 

There was movement in his periphery and then Lan Zhan was standing on his other side. His fingers wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s other arm with a much gentler grip than Jiang Cheng’s. Something imploring about the touch. Like he was seeking confirmation to a theory, or maybe proving to himself that Wei Wuxian was actually there. 

“I…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. 

Zewu Jun’s gaze was hard as steel, but aimed, it seemed, at Lan Zhan’s hand, rather than at Wei Wuxian in general. 

“There was a rumor,” he said in slow, even words, “that Wen Chao had thrown you into the Burial Mounds.” He waited a moment after he finished speaking, as if trying to reconcile the words himself, before he looked up to meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes. 

Of course, Wei Wuxian didn’t want to meet Zewu Jun’s eyes. He didn’t want to meet any of their eyes. He wanted very much to be out of this tent and away from knowing gazes altogether. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite figured out how to teleport using resentful energy yet. So in the tent he remained. 

He looked down at his feet. His boots were crusted with dirt and blood and other bodily fluids. War really was super gross, in addition to being largely boring. 

“That’s ridiculous,” he said, still looking down. “Everyone knows that nothing leaves the Burial Mounds.” 

Lan Zhan’s hand tightened around Wei Wuxian’s arm. Jiang Cheng’s loosened, but didn’t let go. 

“Yeah,” said Jiang Cheng, like an accusation, “it would be impossible.” 

Wei Wuxian still didn’t look up from his feet which meant that he missed whatever silent conversation happened between Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan that had both of them tightening their grips on his arms just before fingers were pressed to the pulse points of his wrists. He struggled, flailing as much as he could, but against Lan Zhan’s golden core and his own, he stood no chance. He could barely budge them. 

He screamed but the sound only reverberated inside the tent. 

The only thing he could think to do was to call up the dead. The dead man still lying in front of them. The Jin. Rapist. Criminal. He could use that wicked corpse to fight off the people holding him down, taking his secrets. Smoke curled out of his sleeves and he--

He stopped himself. 

It was over anyway. 

Even if they couldn’t read his spiritual energy, or lack thereof, his fighting them was confirmation enough. 

He went limp in their grasp. His knees buckled. 

It really was the stupidest possible way to be found out. 

“Where is it?” asked Jiang Cheng. But it was clear from his voice that he already knew the answer. 

Lan Zhan was silent. 

Zewu Jun looked to his brother for an answer, not understanding what they had just discovered. 

“His golden core,” said Lan Zhan. “It’s gone.” 

“Wen Zhuliu?” Zewu Jun asked. 

But Jiang Cheng made a sound that was somehow both a laugh and a sob. 

Wei Wuxian regained control of his arms. He sprawled himself out on the tent floor, exhausted from his struggle. He laughed, too. “After a fashion.” 

Jiang Cheng fell to the ground next to him, hands cradling the place where Wei Wuxian’s core now spun. “What the fuck?” he said, quietly, to no one in particular. Then, loudly, to Wei Wuxian in particular, “What the fuck!” 

His cheeks were wet. Jiang Cheng’s, his own. He looked over to confirm, and yeah, Lan Zhan’s too. Zewu Jun had nothing to cry over, except maybe confusion, but he was too cool for that, so he just stood in the middle of the tent, shocked, presumably, as his brother, another sect leader, and a demonic cultivator broke down around him. 

Wei Wuxian stared up at the tented canvas ceiling and cursed himself for not leaving the tent when he first noticed something wrong. 

“Jiang Cheng,” he started, but Jiang Cheng cut him off with a wet yell. 

“Why would you do that, you fucking idiot?! What the fuck were you even thinking?! How did you-- How--” 

He seemed to lose steam trying to figure out what happened on “Baoshen Sanren’s mountain” and potentially also why Baoshen Sanren’s voice sounded so familiar. 

Zewu Jun’s voice was remarkably calm for a man witnessing-- whatever he made of what he was currently witnessing. He said, “Wei Wuxian, I believe your Sect Leader would like to know how you lost your golden core.” 

Wei Wuxian laughed at that. Because yes and no. 

“No, Zewu Jun,” he said, still laughing. He tried to stop, but it was just too funny. “No,” he said again, slightly more sober, “he wants to know why and how he now has my golden core.” 

He didn’t really mean to say it. He felt drunk again, like he did when Lan Zhan was playing Inquiry. Ready to spill all his secrets at only the slightest provocation. Zewu Jun could probably ask him just about anything right now -- Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng too, for that matter -- and he would answer it. It wasn’t exactly a safe mindset to be in. But he couldn’t really do anything about that now. 

At least there was some kind of privacy barrier over the tent. 

Zewu Jun stood. Speechless. 

Lan Zhan’s tears fell silently. 

Jiang Cheng glared, hands clutched tight against his lower dantian -- whether to hold something inside or to tear it out, Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure. 

Wei Wuxian felt light as a feather. Drunk and dizzy with it. A weight had been lifted, he supposed, but one he was never supposed to let go. His laughter died down to the occasional press of his lungs. Tears collected in his eyelashes until everything was blurry. 

Emptiness yawned inside him, but it was gentler somehow. As if the secret itself had been clawing away at his slowly healing wounds. 

“Fuck,” he said with a hiccup of a laugh. And again, quieter, “Fuck.”

He really should have left the fucking tent. 

Also, wait. Was he dead?! 

--

(7/18/24: now on ao3)

[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

[444takeomi]

BOYFRIEND HCS pt 2

: ̗̀➛ summary: wakasa as your boyfriend

character(s): wakasa imaushi

warnings: female reader, a little suggestive in parts, mentions of alcohol

wc: 0.7k

a/n: back again with more 1st gen bd content that literally no one asked for, this one's been sitting in my drafts for ages bc i hate literally everything i write💀

- from an outsider’s perspective waka doesn't seem like a very affectionate boyfriend — he's not a big fan of pda and doesn't outwardly show his love for you in front of others, to the point where he even comes across as distant sometimes

- however behind closed doors he's like a completely different person, you never expected him to be so clingy and needy for your attention, and it honestly surprised you at the beginning of your relationship

- you weren't complaining though <3

- waka loves cuddling with you at every opportunity, whether that's after he comes home from work or when he first wakes up in the morning

- he likes to be the little spoon sometimes — just don't mention it in front of his friends, he gets embarrassed </3

- he's also naturally very cold in terms of body temperature, and makes such a big deal out of it just as an excuse to hold you in his arms

- “come on, princess, i’m practically freezin’ to death over here. what, you don't care? do you not love me anymore?”

- he's so dramatic pls

- waka spends as long as possible laying in bed with you in the morning, he loves wrapping his arms around you and feeling the warmth of your body against his

- if you try to get out of bed he’ll squeeze you tighter and beg you to stay “just five more minutes” — you've been late to work several times because of him hahaha

- he just looks so cute with his hair all messy, you can't say no to him </3

- waka prefers staying home, so a lot of your dates consist of things like cooking together or binge watching shows and drinking beer — if it's the latter he always buys some yakitori to eat as well

- steals kisses from you when you're least expecting it and teases you if you get flustered or shy

- “aww, are you embarrassed? you like it when i kiss you, princess?”

- please tell him to shut up ahaha

- you're the only person who is allowed to play with his hair, and he even lets you try out different hairstyles on him

- he's so soft for you <3

- he asks you to help every time he touches up the purple streaks, he doesn't trust anyone else to dye it except for you

- waka also loves when you help him wash his hair, the feeling of you massaging the shampoo into his scalp sends shivers down his spine — he looks so angelic with his eyes fluttered shut and a blissed out expression on his face

- please dry it with a towel and brush it for him afterwards, he feels so loved when you take care of him

- you always tell him how jealous you are of his eyelashes, and if you ask nicely he will let you put mascara on them

- he thinks you look so cute when you're concentrating and will keep trying to kiss you — only when you threaten to poke him in the eye with the mascara wand does he sit still

- he's already pretty but he somehow looks even more gorgeous with mascara on, it's almost unfair </3

- waka absolutely hates bugs but he still gets rid of them for you, especially if you have a phobia of them

- he doesn't want his princess to worry <3

- he often invites you out drinking with his friends and will get absolutely wrecked by the end of the night without fail — waka gets very affectionate with you when he's drunk and this is one of the few times he lets his guard down in front of others

- he will spend the whole evening leaning on your shoulder, sometimes whispering dirty things in your ear — his hands will start wandering as if no one is watching and you have definitely had to slap them away before

- he has no shame whatsoever💀

- when he's drunk he always wants to do karaoke with you, he's such a bad singer and you two end up laughing your asses off

- benkei is so done with you both💀💀

- he's such a baby when he's hungover, please bring him some painkillers and water and give him kisses

- if you make him breakfast as well he will literally love you forever, even if it's just something simple like tamago kake gohan (egg on rice)

- in conclusion it might not seem like it at first glance, but waka loves you more than anything — he just prefers to reserve that side of himself for only you <3

please do not translate, repost, or share my writing on any other platforms eg. tiktok

[hobiebrownismygod]

"Sorry, Dove" Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader - Part 1/2

Summary: Hobie Brown's canon event, or in which basically you were the Gwen Stacy to Hobie Brown's Spider-Punk

TW: Blood, Mention of murder, Reader death, Angst, Hobie crying

WC: ~2k

A/N: You and Hobie are young, around 14 to 15 in this. It's supposed to be sort of his origin story. Btw, Hobie's dialogue are bolded.

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @spiderrinn @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @lauryn2558 @sunasslut69

Taglist link & Masterlist

Prev|Next

CREAK

You looked up from your bed as you heard the window open slightly, letting in a draft of cold air. Quickly throwing the cover off, you crawled to the foot of your bed where the window was situated, tilting your head to the side slightly with a smile. Peering in through the window, was the unmasked face of your best friend, Hobie Brown.

"What are you doing here? It's past midnight!" You exclaimed, hugging your knees to your chest as you watched him pull himself into your room, hitting his head on the top of the window in the process. "Ow!" He let out a groan before he put his hands on his hips, looking down at you. "Happy Birthday, dove. Looks like I'm the first person to wish you" He asked with a smile. "Did you really think I was going to leave you alone on your special day?"

"Hobie, if I get caught this time..."

"You won't." he extended his hand out towards you, a confident grin on his face. "Come on, you trust me, right?"

You looked up at him, biting the inside of your cheek. "But what about the curfew?" Ever since Spider-man had showed up, only a few months ago, President Osborne had implemented a curfew of 10 pm, stating that anyone who left their homes after that time period would be severely punished. But then of course, Hobie had never been much of a rule-follower.

"Since when have I ever followed that stupid curfew?" He asked with a lopsided smile, reaching his hand out to you a little further to coax you into taking it. "Come on, I've got something amazing planned."

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand with a sigh. "Fine." You muttered, letting him pull you off the bed and open the window a little further. "Just trust me, dove, we'll be fine." he gave you a gentle smile before pulling himself out the window. You stuck your head outside, waiting for him to balance himself before pulling yourself out as well, his hand holding your waist to keep you from falling.

He used his hands to stick to the wall and held you to his chest. "Shit, I forgot the mask. Can you put it on for me?" He asked tentatively, leaning back slightly to look at you. He nodded towards his pocket and you reached inside, grabbing the mask and gently pulling it over his head while he kept his arms firmly wrapped around you.

"Ready?" You smiled in response, putting your arms around his neck and holding on tight while he secured you to him with a web, tying it tightly before he leaped off the side of the building. "Where exactly are we going?" You asked, closing your eyes as he sped up, swinging through the dark, empty city. "You'll find out."

The two of you stayed in the shadows of the sky, careful not to let any of the soldiers patrolling the streets see you. They were all armed with their guns, and Hobie knew that if they caught even a glimpse of him, they'd shoot without a second thought.

It only took a few minutes before you arrived to your destination, a tall building with clouds surrounding the edges, making the height seem even more intimidating. You timidly stepped down from him, the elevation making it slightly hard to breathe. "Uh...Hobes? What is this place?"

"Shhh, just trust me." He repeated, taking your arm and leading you towards the edge. He pulled off his mask and took a deep breath before he gestured out into the distance. It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the night, but once you did...you expression morphed to one of pure awe.

The lights of the city were dimmed due to the curfew, making the night sky completely visible. The stars looked close enough to touch, making it seemed as though if you reached your hand up, you might just be able to grab one of those twinkling lights. The moon was full and bright, illuminating the roof and making the scene even more magical. 

"So?" He asked, gauging your expression, trying to determine whether you liked the view or not. You gave him a wide smile, closing your eyes as you laughed. "It's amazing. I don't ever think I've seen this many stars before. Thank you."

"Yeah, well, there's less pollution this high up." He replied, looking down at his feet awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. "I'm glad you like it."

You sat down on the edge, the wind nearly pushing you off, and dangled your legs over the side, looking down at the quiet city beneath you. "It's peaceful up here." You said quietly, still trying to fully take in the gorgeous view. "Probably the best birthday gift I've gotten today." You chuckled.

His eyes widened. "This isn't your birthday gift." He said, shaking his head. "Nah, I've got you something else too." You gave him a confused look as he began to search through his pockets, eventually pulling out a tiny wrapped box with a small handmade bow on top. "Open it." 

You glanced up at his excited expression before taking the box in your hands, fingers running over the soft satin bow as you untied it. You took the top off and you stared down at the present in shock. "What'dya think?"

You pulled him into a hug, a stupid grin on your face as you profusely thanked him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You exclaimed, squeezing him so tight he could barely breathe. "I'm-g-glad you liked t-them!" He replied, gasping for air.

You'd been asking him for your own pair of web shooters ever since you'd found out your best friend was the masked vigilante known as Spider-man. He'd refused at first, saying he didn't want you involved in his crimes, but it looked as though he'd gifted you them anyways. 

You took the web shooters out of the box gently, clasping it onto your hand. You tried to shoot it, but nothing came out. "Huh?" You pressed again, a little harder. "I haven't put the fluid into it yet." He said, taking your hand in his and wiping away a smudge off the cool metal surrounding your wrist. "I'll put it in later, I promise." He gave you a sheepish look. "I used it all up a little while ago when I was fighting Kraven."

"That's okay!" You were still over the top with happiness as you pulled him into yet another hug. "I can't believe you actually made them! You're amazing!" He blushed as he accepted your hug, awkwardly patting your back. "Of course. I'd never leave my dove hanging." He said quietly, clearing his throat.

Hobie hadn't always been awkward around you. In fact, before you'd moved away, the two of you had been so close, people would get scared if they only saw one and not the other. Your family and friends would come up to you asking, 'Where's Hobie?', and vice versa. 

After you'd moved, he started to see you less often, get-togethers only happening every month or so. Your families had grown apart and you didn't eat dinner together anymore. You lived too far apart, it took too long.

And then, Hobie's neighborhood was raided, Osborne's soldiers took over, and his mom and youngest sister died. His father had gotten sick, and although your family had tried to help as much as they could, he eventually died. Hobie was left alone with his brother, who was barely able to provide for him. You stopped seeing him completely.

That was until one day, he'd showed up at your window with a bite mark and his brother's old jacket, saying that you were all he had left and that he needed your help. Sometimes he'd sleep in your room without your parents knowing and other times he stayed at shelters and such, completely alone. You were his only friend, his only family, all he had.

You were also his first love. Of course, you didn't know about that yet, he was too shy to tell you, but you still meant more to him that most others ever had. It was why he worked hard to come see you so often, why he'd made these web-shooters for you. Maybe you could really be by his side from now on, rather than just the girl that cleaned him up after a bad fight. Maybe...you liked him back.

Actually, he was planning on telling you. That's why he'd brought you to such a quiet place, given you his birthday gift for you, and that's why he was sitting next to you right now, stealing glances while you played with your new web-shooters.

"So, has the center found you a foster family yet?" You asked gently, looking up at him with a concerned expression. His eyebrows immediately furrowed and he looked away. "They've tried. But I told you, I don't want to live with a foster family."

"Hobie, come on. It won't be that bad. What if they're really nice?" You suggested, hugging your knees to your chest as you looked up at him. "What if they're not? What if they're racist, or-or fascists, or-" he stuttered, trying to find an excuse for why he drove away every family that tried to take him.

He couldn't let you know the real intentions behind this. He couldn't let you know that he was afraid that whatever family took him would take him away, move somewhere, and force him to leave you behind. He enjoyed these moments with you, being able to sneak into your room whenever he wanted and take you wherever he wanted to go.

And being Spider-man would be even harder if a family took him in. They might end up finding out, and who knows if they'd turn him into the cops or if they'd use it against him. He couldn't risk that. No, living at the shelter was the best thing for him right now.

"My family could-"

"No." He immediately shut you down and your expression sagged. You knew if you tried hard enough, your parents might be willing to take him in. He seemed to hate that idea even more. Your family had moved away because of your dad's job as a cop, and Hobie despised cops. Cops were the reason his family was gone and cops were the reason he had been living in such a shitty neighborhood to begin with. He didn't trust living with one, no matter how much he cared about their daughter.

"Can we talk about something else?" he asked, looking back at you with a pleading expression. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?" You asked.

You shivered as another cold draft passed by the two of you. It was freezing at this height. Hobie's expression softened as he noticed this and he pulled off his vest, wrapping it around you before pulling you a little closer. "It's bloody freezing up here." He chuckled, teeth chattering slightly.

The two of you huddled together for warmth as you continued to talk, the conversation shifting towards more pleasant things, like his music, your art, etc. You rested your head onto his shoulder as he worked himself up over his guitar, talking about the songs he was planning on writing, the new rhythms he'd learned. He hummed them out to you as you listened, ranking them based on how much you liked them and how catchy they were.

It had been maybe an hour or two since he'd brought you here, and you were obviously starting to get very sleepy. You were nodding off as he continued to talk, and he pulled you a little closer, letting you press your head against his chest and get comfortable. You would've fallen asleep too, if it wasn't for the-

BOOM.

You jumped slightly and Hobie immediately looked in the direction of the noise, completely alert. "What was that?" You asked nervously. Smoke was coming from the distance, looking as though some sort of bomb had been set off. He looked down at your for a moment, a knowing look in his eyes. "I've got to go."

"But, Hobie-"

"I'll come back for you, I swear. Just stay here and stay safe, okay?" He said quickly. He didn't have time to plead with you right now, all he could do was make you promise to stay put. You looked at him for a moment. "Just...you be safe, okay?" 

He nodded, taking your hand in his. "Always." He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your palm gently before walking toward the edge and leaping off the building, pulling his mask back up in the process. You watched, unsure of what to do now.

You'd promised him you'd stay put and it wasn't like you could get off the building in the first place, so really you were stuck up there. You kept your eyes on his retreating figure, powerfully swinging down to the city below while you simply shivered, holding his vest around you a little tighter.

And then, you heard another explosion. The sound caused you to fall back slightly out of shock, but this time, you were unsure of where it'd come from. It sounded a lot quieter than the last one, and it also sounded much, much closer.

You peered over the edge of the building, searching for where it could have possibly come from. That's when you noticed, the line of tiny green orbs, latched in groups on the wall of the skyscraper. You continued to stare, trying to recall where you'd seen them before. They looked so familiar...

Suddenly, one of them exploded, causing the building to shake slightly. The one right above it began to quiver, as though it might be next. You let out a soft gasp as you walked back from the edge, going back towards the middle of the building. Those green orbs weren't orbs. They were bombs.

And who else would use bombs to kill their victims?

"Hobi-Spider-man!" You called out in a fearful voice, hoping he'd hear you despite him being long gone. "Come on, come back!" You yelled.

"Spider-man isn't here now, kid." A loud cackle came from behind you and you yelped, turning around to see none other than the Green Goblin, more bombs in hand as he stared at you from atop his wavering hoverboard. "What? You weren't expecting me?"

The building shook again as the next bomb went off and you fell to the ground, trying to get back up and regain your balance as the building wobbled. "Wh-what do you want?" You asked, looking back over the edge as you backed away. 

The Goblin only approached you, getting closer and closer. "I saw you, I saw that little punk swinging you up here. You're his friend, aren't you?" His menacing voice sent chills up your spine. No...he couldn't find out. You had to keep Hobie safe.

"No, I'm not." you said quickly, continuing to back away until you were only on the edge of the building, cornered by the masked man. "He just helped me out, I don't know him." You were breathing heavily now, your chest rising up and down as you tried to seem like some random civilian, hoping it would be enough to protect Hobie.

"Ah, but we both know that's not true." The Goblin chuckled. He was close enough to reach out and grab you at this point. "If you won't give him up...well, I suppose I'll have to force you."

You leaned back slightly as the Goblin's hand reached out towards you, fear flickering across your expression.

Suddenly, the building shook again, harder, as the rest of the bombs blew up at the same time. You found yourself falling back, unable to keep your balance. You screamed as you felt the ground disappear from beneath your feet and your stomach drop when you began to fall. 

The only thing you heard was the Goblin's laugh as he swooped towards you, grabbing you by the shirt and dangling you over the city. He pulled you a little closer as you struggled, holding onto his arm and protesting. "Now let's go and find your little friend, shall we?"

[aerkame]

TFP Imagine | Vehicon Reader

Tfp vehicon reader that can actually aim well and almost pushes the Autobots into retreating.

I had this one sitting in drafts for a while now. My inspiration was wondering what would happen if just a single vehicon could actually aim in the show. I noticed they have the aiming ability of a Storm Trooper and couldn't hit a target if they were sitting still.

I may turn this into a series though, I really like this concept.

----------------------------------------------------

Team Prime would take a surprising amount of time to finally notice that only one vehicon is causing them any real damage. They're so used to the same old fights. Vehicons swarm them, but they're pretty weak and can't aim all that well, and either Megatron or Starscream has to step in to drive off the team.

Optimus and Arcee are the first to notice however, watching you take a good defensive position from behind a boulder between two walls, blasting away at the both of them with near pinpoint accuracy. So much so that both Autobots agreed they needed to retreat further back into the treelines. Vehicon blasters are pretty weak, but you're getting enough hits in on their frames that their very metal is starting to dent and scorch from the constant trauma.

They're left wondering in fear now if the Deceptions started training their vehicons seriously with new blasters or if this is a new member of sorts that joined without their notice. Either way, Arcee convinces Optimus you were the main target for now. They needed to get the heat off of them before proceeding with the mission.

-

You ducked behind the stone that was your current defense, catching a moment to check your blaster to ensure it didn't overheat. These things were stupidly designed for Primus knows what reason...the stupid thing kept overheating forcing you to take cover after just one round of shooting your targets. You could've driven the two Autobots further back by now.

You knew it was dangerous separating from the other vehicons like this, but you also knew they couldn't aim for scrap and would probably be offline by now if they tried fighting Arcee and Optimus head on. Besides, you were in a good spot that neither Autobot could get into. The Prime wouldn't be able to fit between the walls and the femme couldn't come in without getting blasted in the face. It was a win in your opinion. Your vehicon friends don't get blasted while you distract the Autobots and wait for backup.

Backup didn't come though.

It had been half an hour now since Optimus and Arcee were pushed further back into the nearby forest from your gunfire. Every attempt to just go around was met with several blasts far too close to the helm and Arcee was beginning to lose her patience. Optimus needed a plan and he needed one soon if they wanted any hope of getting passed you and get into the mines, mines that were unfortunately too small to groundbridge into.

It made sense that Ratchet would call by now, asking what happened and why he hadn't heard from either bots for so long. Arcee explained in detailed the current situation with the dangerous vehicon leaving a very surprised Ratchet snorting in disbelief. A vehicon? Come on, it's probably some fancy new weapon, we all know vehicons can't aim that well. Right?

Optimus cut in affirming the situation and requested backup via groundbridge at a specific location, they needed backup fast before the other vehicons inside the mines left with the energon.

-

Your shoulders slouched as you ducked below the stone once more after a quick peak. Both the Autobots and yourself have started shooting less and less. You were under the assumption that they must have been getting low on energon too by now. And yet, backup still hadn't arrived for you. Anxiety started to fill your frame as you thought about your past life choices that led you here, not noticing the sound of a groundbridge above your hiding space.

Only when the wall next to you crumbled did you notice your surroundings again. You didn't even have time to register what had happened when a giant green mech practically tackled you to the ground making you shriek in surprise.

-

Bulkhead kept your tiny frame pinned beneath his weight, servos in tight stasis cuffs to ensure you didn't try any last ditch efforts as Optimus and Arcee made their way forward, finally able to get to their goal, albeit lower on energon than they'd like.

Arcee came over to get a good look at you, confirming to Optimus you are just a normal vehicon, nothing noteworthy or special about you or the weapon you were carrying. Optimus paused his trek to the mines for a moment, staring deep into your optics as you lay paralyzed beneath the green wrecker. Of course you mustered up all you could just to glare at him and he quietly commed something to what you assumed were the others.

Within seconds of watching the two disappear into the mines, Bulkhead grabbed your limp frame by the scruff and tossed you through a new groundbridge into the waiting arms of the Autobot medic.

[velvet-games]

I wrote a random draft for a radiostatic ficlet on the car a couple days ago; still having problems with it but might publish to ao3 if it gets better.

for context, this is part of the same universe as favorite/most of my art. vox leaves the vees and is working at the hotel now; he and alastor have repaired their friendship at this point and are hurtling toward that liminal queerplatonic "what are we" stage.

“Oh, this hotel venture truly has been an inspiration, hasn’t it, Vox?” Alastor twirled around Vox’s office, nearly smashing his screen in with the microphone several times. “Romance, betrayal, existential revelations about the ontology of the universe; it has everything!”

“You say that like you’re not part of the romance, betrayal, and existential revelations about the ontology of the universe,” Vox said, narrowly missing another hit. 

“Oh, I don’t mind being a part of the show! I play the best character after all, haha!” Alastor finally set the microphone down, much to Vox’s relief. “I’ve never felt the rivers of creative ambrosia flow through my veins quite the way they do now! Every broadcast has been a hit!” Raucous applause permeated the air, occasional whoops breaking through. He gave one more twirl and a bow that almost caused him to topple over. Vox smiled faintly. Silly, he thought.

“Glad you’re having fun, buddy; now can I get back to work?” Vox sighed, feeling a little sick. He sat heavily in his chair before turning toward the wall of screens currently dotted with shining logos and random livestreams. 

The applause cut off abruptly. “Hm? Why, friend, you look even bluer than usual,” he said. “Say, why don’t you start drawing again? That used to cheer you right up. It’ll be just like old times! Me, inspired to orchestrate the best broadcasts Hell has ever seen; you, with your mediocre pictures that made you ever so happy for some inexplicable reason!”

Vox froze. “I … can’t.”

“Sure you can; why not?” Alastor replied steadily. “You used to do it all the time.”

Vox looked up, shoulders tense. “Alastor, that was decades ago.” His voice was quiet and monotone, like it was trying to avoid any spots that may contain emotions.

“You started tinkering again.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“It just is.”

The static in Alastor’s voice dimmed, and he pulled out a pen. “Just try.”

Vox stared at it blankly. “... What if I can’t do it anymore? What if I’m bad at it?” Alastor had to lean in to hear him.

“Then be bad at it.”

“You literally make fun of me for being bad at things all the time. You called my ‘pictures’ mediocre 30 seconds ago.”

“Is your ego really so fragile?" Alastor sighed. "I won’t make fun of you this time.”

“Why not?”

“This is different.”

“How so?”

“It just is.”

Vox shook his head, voice finally cracking and filling with static. “It’s gone, I can’t … it’s not – I’ll just know that I failed. That I let myself lose it.”

Vox tried to turn away, but Alastor gripped the sides of his screen and pulled his face close. “Or you could find it again. You could find that part of yourself and the world and remember what it feels like to be alive. You’ll be alive, even here. How will you know if you don’t put pen to paper?” Alastor’s eyes shone. “I’ll do it with you.”

Vox laughed abruptly, voice wet. “You suck at drawing. And you hate being bad at things.”

“I was terrible at everything before I was good at them,” Alastor said. “I’ll be bad at things for you. We can be bad at it together. We can love it together.”

Vox’s face wobbled a bit. He took the pen. “Okay.”

****

The first few sketches sucked ass. After that, it was like Vox had never stopped. 

Alastor looked up from his shaky doodles of Niffty and a woman with a scar on her cheek. “You’re only drawing me.”

Vox felt his screen heat up. “I like drawing you.”

“Of course; I’m a lovely muse. But you should check if anything else is interesting.”

Sharks were pretty interesting. But after filling a page with hammerheads and a Blahaj plush, Vox went right back to Alastor: those big doe eyes, the curve of his slightly upturned nose, the curl that always covered his cheek …

Alastor glanced over again, but he only smiled softly this time. His doodles were starting to include a little box with antennae and shark teeth. 

****

“FUCK!” Vox yelled from the other room. 

“What is it, darling?” Alastor called. He set his book on the coffee table. 

Vox stomped into the lobby with a rolled up sleeve and the biggest frown Alastor had ever seen. “I think I gave myself carpal tunnel. Some-fucking-how.”

Alastor blinked. “You’ve been drawing in your room for at least four hours a day every day for the last three months. You’re also never fully charged because you refuse to let that interfere with your sixteen-hour work days. You really didn’t expect sickness or injury?”

“I–” Vox looked genuinely indignant for a moment before his eyes went unfocused, probably checking the footage of himself drawing he had stored. “O-Oh. But I meant, like, I forgot this body even had a median nerve that could get fucked up.” Alastor shrugged, and Vox flopped unceremoniously onto the couch. “What now?”

“Well, I’m afraid there is more to life than drawing. You should join my broadcast tonight; we can discuss your woes in detail.”

“Ugh, shut up. You’re just as grumpy when your voice gives out and you have to pretend you have a super important emergency errand instead of admitting you sound like you’ve been smoking since age five.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

Vox frowned again. “Mmmmgghhhhhhhhfine. But you’re learning to paint next time you lose your voice.” 

The broadcast went well that night. 

-----

oh, the woes of loving something and getting really good at it and other people expecting you to be good at it and then getting distracted by other things and losing that skill and feeling like you've missed out on your potential but also thinking about it puts a pit in your stomach because every day you wait to start doing it again the more your skill deteriorates and maybe it's not worth it to start again at all but you miss it so much and it used to be a part of you and maybe now you're missing a part of yourself--

anyway. I think my biggest worry rn is about the pacing + vox/alastor's voice. I keep forgetting what vox's voice sounds like, and I kept imagining alastor's pilot voice, which is maybe a little too unhinged for this fic lol.

[littlejuicebox]

Midwinter Carol 3 / The Carriage

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Elf Sorceress OC

Word Count: 2.9K

Story navigation: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Summary/Setting: Based on the prologue/premise from my OneShot "A Midwinter Carol."

Astarion and the OC broke up after his ascension. She left Baldur's Gate for fifteen years, only to return just recently. Following the events of "A Midwinter Carol," Ascended Astarion has been convinced to pursue a new beginning. Will he be able to change who he has become, with the help of his ex-lover? Or will he ultimately fall victim to his pride and desire for power?

Preview:

“Astarion… why did you reach out, after all this time?” She asks, dropping her gaze to her hands, which have been neatly folded in her lap. “What do you mean?” The Vampire Lord responds, feigning ignorance as he steals a moment to prepare himself for the conversation he knows they are about to have. He turns his head to stare out the window, hoping to give himself the illusion of further distance from Eirianwen. Her close proximity was unnerving.  “You know what I mean, Astarion. I tried to contact you via the sending stones. For years. You never responded.” Her tone is tight as she tries to contain the indignation and hurt. Fifteen years apart, and the fact that he hadn’t communicated with her once, despite her efforts, still stung. It had been a gaping wound in her heart that had never fully healed.  Eirianwen had asked to meet with the Ascendant at the Elfsong, a few weeks after their relationship ended. He had been under the impression it was to reconcile, and that she had changed her mind about his offer. Instead, she had given him the sending stone and expressed her desire to remain friends. The suggestion of being merely Eirianwen’s friend had nearly made Astarion retch on the spot. 

Warnings: This will be 18+ / in game spoilers / OOC Ascended Astarion because it follows my epilogue / Eventual Smut and maybe Gore / Angst, trauma, fluff

A/N: IDK guys I'm on a role with the fics this weekend and obsessed with this concept so... here's another one! If you want to be added to the taglist for this series, please leave a comment clearly stating that so I can keep track!

It had been a strange week. Returning to Baldur’s Gate proved more emotionally exhausting than Eirianwen had anticipated. 

Perhaps she should have said no to Astarion’s invitation; part of her worries accompanying him may be a mistake. She felt as if sprites were flying around in her stomach.

In retrospect, the sorceress should have been more hesitant and asked more questions, but his sudden, unexpected appearance had completely disarmed her. Did he consider this a date? Or was it simply an invitation between two old friends? She truly couldn’t be certain.

But, perhaps she was needlessly concerned, and everything would turn out fine. Anyway, the elven woman had to find a way to talk to Astarion about some delicate matters; it had been the main reason she’d returned to Baldur’s Gate after all this time. 

A single dance at the Midwinter Gala would not have been the appropriate setting for the conversation. At the time, Eirianwen feared Astarion would scorch everything and everyone around them in a rage if she’d done anything but allow him the dance. The barely concealed fury in his eyes as he cut in between her and Wyll on the ballroom floor had caused her stomach to churn with anxiety. 

Perhaps the sprites had made a home in her stomach after that interaction. The feeling returned every time she laid eyes on the Vampire Lord.

Since the gala, the sorceress had been fixated on speaking to Astarion again. She spent several hours a day desperately trying to form a plan; more than one letter had been drafted, ripped to shreds, and tossed. Eirianwen was embarrassed to admit that she, the elusive hero of Baldur’s Gate, had been too much of a coward to show up and face him at his own palace, where she had ended their relationship fifteen years ago.

But then the Vampire Lord did the hardest part and called upon her, to her astonishment.

Accepting the invitation seemed, at the very least, a good opportunity to extend an olive branch to the Ascendant. She hoped to mend their friendship before delivering any shocking news, mostly to avoid the worst of his rage. 

The way he spoke to her when they broke up still caused a pang in her heart. She shakes away the memory, instead choosing to reflect on the events of this week.

When Eirianwen met Wyll for lunch the same day as Astarion’s unplanned visit, she’d informed the Duke about the Vampire Ascendant’s invitation. The conversation had not gone well. Thinking about it now, as she waits beside the Duke for the Ascendant’s carriage to arrive, makes the woman’s palms sweat. There are those sprites again. 

“Wyll… why didn’t you tell me about the benefit auction this weekend?”

“I meant to bring it up at lunch today, Eirianwen. Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me?”

“Oh… I’m sorry, Wyll. Astarion came to call on me just earlier today and–” 

Wyll stiffened, and his face evolved from its typical relaxed, amiable manner into a hardened visage she hardly recognized. She had been quick to try and soothe the Duke, unwilling to cause a rift between them. He had been an exceedingly gracious host, and she was more thankful for his warm welcome than words could express.

“He didn’t access the grounds! Your guards are most excellent, they didn’t allow him entry!” She hastily explained, conveniently leaving out her attempts at convincing them otherwise, and Astarion’s attempt to sneak in through the rear of the property, “But I happened to be outside and, well, he invited me. And I’ve already said yes. It’s for a good cause, after all, and I didn’t know you were planning on attending since you hadn’t mentioned it.”

His face dropped into a look she did not quite understand. He sighed and shook his head before murmuring, “Are you sure that’s wise? Ani, I–”

She bristled at the nickname, which only one person had ever been allowed to call her. Her tone was clipped when she quickly interjected, “Please don’t call me that, Wyll.”

The Duke snapped his mouth shut and sighed again before returning his attention to his meal. His jaw stayed clenched between bites of food.

The rest of lunch passed in uncomfortable silence. 

Umber meows beside Eirianwen and she shoos away her thoughts, bending down to place a gentle pat on the cat’s head.

Wyll glances at his pocket watch and then turns to the elven woman, “Eirianwen, he’s late. Are you certain he’s coming? I would be more than happy to–”

Speak of the devil. The Duke and the sorceress simultaneously spot Astarion’s carriage coming around the corner. Wyll’s mouth seals into a thin line as the offer he was about to make dies upon his lips. 

Two obsidian draft horses come to a halt in front of Eirianwen; the footman quickly drops down and opens the chariot door. Astarion emerges from the confines of the vehicle with an arrogant eyebrow raised and a small, self-satisfied smirk on his lips. He’s wearing another one of his ostentatious, heavily embroidered jackets; this one is black velvet with golden dragons breathing fire along the lapel. 

He knows he looks good. 

As the Vampire Lord descends from the carriage, his eyes gloss over Wyll with apathy and then settle on Eirianwen. 

“You look wonderful, Ani.” Astarion murmurs as his scarlet eyes take in the deep navy blue of her trumpet-silhouette evening gown.

Wyll’s head snaps to the sorceress as he notices, with displeasure, that she does not admonish the Vampire Lord for calling her the very nickname he’d been forbidden to use. A muscle twitches in the Duke’s jaw as he observes this reunion.

“Good to see you again, Astarion.” Eirianwen greets with a nod as she brings an anxious hand up to play with her necklace. The tension between the two men was so overwhelmingly thick that it could have been cut with her old sussur dagger; her stomach is fluttering again.

The Vampire Lord is distracted by the action, and his eyes immediately flit to her neck, where he cannot help but to notice the small pin prick scars that remain from… before. He instinctively shifts his eyes away.

“That’s a beautiful necklace, it goes well with the dress.” The pale elf compliments mechanically, looking past the woman’s shoulder as he quickly tries to smooth over his brief moment of awkwardness. He’s certain both Eirianwen and Wyll noticed as he faltered, distracted by those little fang scars. Astarion is painfully aware that his carefully crafted, cool, and collected persona slips further and further from reach every time he interacts with the sorceress. 

It is at moments like this, when his mask fumbles and his charisma wanes, where he still feels like the tragic, weak spawn version of himself.

Astarion had immediately recognized Eirianwen’s necklace to be the work of her family, the Ar’Tel’Tavas jewelers based in Silverymoon. Over the years, the Ascendant commissioned more than one piece from the family, under a pseudonym. It had been the only piece of Ani with him all this time.

The Lord was quite aware the family’s funds supported their daughter on her little adventures. Eirianwen may not have been a noble, but she had been a child of privilege. She was allowed to do as she pleased and flit around all of Faerun because her parents ensured she would be provided for. He was not ignorant of that fact. 

Astarion had reasoned long ago that if he could not have her, then he would at least make sure she was provided for. His purchases ensured she had access to more than enough funds for her savior act. He’d owed her at least that… after everything.

The Vampire Lord, despite his pride, had always been aware it was Ani’s planning and command of their group that ultimately put him where he now was. In another lifetime, he would still be under Cazador or dead without her interference. He was loath to admit he certainly wouldn’t be the Ascendant without her help.

Some days he hated her for it; most days, he accepted the gift for the double-edged sword it was.

The Vampire Lord’s left hand fiddles restlessly with the gold ring on his right pinky; it was one of a few dozen commissions designed by Ani’s parents, and the only one he wore on a daily basis. The signet is a snowflake, backed by a cool blue enamel. 

The pad of Astarion’s index finger rubs against the lifted texture of the ring as he forces himself to acknowledge Wyll. The Ascendant nods tersely but does not perform the customary bow. He would never submit to Wyll, even as the best version of himself. 

The pale elf simply greets the human man with a cold, “Duke Ravengard.” 

Wyll nods back, but no other pleasantries are exchanged between the two men.

“We should head out; we are going to be late.” Wyll murmurs in general, though he has his eyes trained on the sorceress. 

Eirianwen glances at Wyll and nods before she makes her way toward Astarion’s carriage. Before the Vampire Lord can offer to help his ex-lover inside, Wyll extends his hand to Eirianwen and ushers her into the other man’s caravan. The pale elf bristles at the slight, fist clenching into a ball as he locks hardened eyes with the Duke. 

Umber hops in the carriage after the sorceress, and at first Astarion thinks to protest, but quickly censors himself, knowing better than to press Eirianwen about her pets. He briefly recalls she hadn’t allowed him to touch her for a week when he’d refused to let Scratch sleep in the bed with them. 

The familiar sprawls itself out on the seat opposite Eirianwen and then turns its head expectantly to Astarion, as if waiting for him to enter the carriage.

“We’ll see you there, Wyll.” The elf hisses cooly, his arrogant eyebrow raised in a silent challenge.

Wyll brushes past the Vampire Lord with no acknowledgement.

-----

Two ghosts sit side by side, both staring at the cat lounged on the other side of the vehicle. Several moments of silence pass. The ex-lovers shared a carriage for only one event prior to this, when they had attended Wyll’s coronation as a couple all those years ago. 

The sorceress had cast an arcane lock on the door to prevent the footman from opening it, and Astarion had barked an order at the driver to simply leave the carriage in the driveway. By the time the caravan had been parked in front of the palace, Eirianwen had already fallen apart twice under the Ascendant’s expert ministrations. 

It had been the first time he’d been able to be inside her without the usual feelings of disgust and the desire to pull back. They’d broken up not more than a few months after.

Once again, it is the elven woman that breaks the heavy silence.

“Astarion… why did you reach out, after all this time?” She asks, dropping her gaze to her hands, which have been neatly folded in her lap.

“What do you mean?” The Vampire Lord responds, feigning ignorance as he steals a moment to prepare himself for the conversation. He turns his head to stare out the window, hoping to give himself the illusion of further distance from Eirianwen. Her close proximity was unnerving. 

“You know what I mean, Astarion. I tried to contact you via the sending stones. For years. You never responded.” Her tone is tight as she tries to contain the indignation and hurt. Fifteen years apart, and the fact that he hadn’t communicated with her once, despite her efforts, still stung. It had been a gaping wound in her heart that had never fully healed. 

Eirianwen had asked to meet with the Ascendant at the Elfsong, a few weeks after their relationship ended. He had been under the impression it was to reconcile, and that she had changed her mind about his offer. Instead, she had given him the sending stone and expressed her desire to remain friends. The suggestion of being merely Eirianwen’s friend had nearly made Astarion retch on the spot. 

So it was true, the Vampire Lord never responded; in his pride and delusions of grandeur, he could never bring himself to reply to the woman that had abandoned him. She had broken his heart and destroyed his ego when she refused his offers and then ran from the city, far away from him. Could she really blame him? 

Every message reminded Astarion of the pain she’d inflicted on his heart, which he’d tried so desperately to forget. He’d refused to admit that a simple sorceress had caused the most powerful vampire in Faerun nearly two decades of hurt and anguish.

He never responded, but he had every message, and the sound of her voice, committed to memory. Astarion’s eyes glaze over as the recollections flood him.

The first message arrived a few weeks after she left the city.

“Hi Star. Made it to Halsin’s. The Shadowlands look different. It’s beautiful. Come see what we did, your imagination won’t do it justice.”

That had felt like a stake to the heart. At the time, he was certain Eirianwen had been intentionally trying to goad him, since the first person she ran to after their relationship ended had been her other lover. 

Then, three months later, another message.

“Hi Star. We are building a school for the kids. We could use your vampiric strength, if you’re willing to lend a hand.”

No. Absolutely not. He refused to show up and watch Halsin and Eirianwen as the picture of happiness and domesticity. If she wanted to move on, so be it; he did not have to witness it or pretend to be happy for her. 

Followed by another message, about six months later.

“Hi Star. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are getting married at the end of this month. They asked me to invite you.”

Again, absolutely not, he knew that Shadowheart was Eirianwen’s best friend, and suspected the cleric loathed him deeply. Better he spares them both from the charade.

Another message, approximately one year later.

“Hi Astarion. I’m off to explore the wilds again. Let me know if you’re interested in pursuing another adventure, for old times' sake.”

The offer had been tempting, but he’d been on the brink of gaining monopoly over the shipping industry. Stepping away would have been disastrous to all his efforts, and he had spent several years here building a life without her. The fact that she expected him to drop everything for her after all this time was ridiculous. 

Then, her final message, roughly one year after the last.

“Scratch died today. I know you loved him, even though you pretended you didn’t. This will be my last message, Astarion. Hope you’re well.”

Shortly after that, the magical glow from the sending stone disappeared. Ani had smashed her half of the set. That had been the only time the Vampire Ascendant had allowed himself to shed any tears over the broken bond between them. After that, his heart had callused over entirely, and he vowed to never let anyone else in again.

A rough bump in the road causes the wagon to jolt, knocking the sorceress into the Ascendant. Eirianwen instinctively grips onto his arm to steady herself, forcing Astarion from his daydream. He flinches in surprise at the sudden contact, and she whispers an apology before shifting away.

Umber is staring at Astarion. He’s convinced the cat is judging him.

“What do you want me to say?” The pale elf murmurs, his tone dejected. 

“The truth.” She responds quietly, reaching forward to pet Umber, in an effort to distract herself. The cat purrs in delight and closes its green eyes. 

“Ani, surely you must know that when you left…” The Vampire Lord starts, looking down at his hands where he’s fidgeting with the signet ring once more.

‘I was heartbroken.’

“It wasn’t easy for me.” He finishes, forcing the words out in another tight tone. The effort to spit out the truth hurt his jaw; that was the most vulnerability he could allow himself.

Eirianwen sighs. Umber’s purrs fill the silence, and both the elves sit in the fog of their thoughts and the uncomfortable air of unspoken conversations. The woman sits back up and turns to face the Vampire Lord, furrowing her brow slightly. 

Astarion forces himself to meet her eyes. He suddenly realizes how close the sorceress is in the confines of the carriage, and the proximity causes his heart to pound within his chest. He cannot bring himself to speak, so he simply focuses on her eyes. They are soft and round with something akin to concern, and the final flares of sunlight are captured in the iris. 

Her eyes look like home. 

The elves are staring at one another. The air inside the carriage has grown so thick with tension. Astarion can hardly bring himself to breathe, and Eirianwin feels the metaphorical sprites fluttering in her stomach. Neither of them realize the carriage has stopped.

“Astarion I–” The sorceress begins, but she startles and the words die on her lips as the door to the caravan rips open, revealing an irritated Wyll standing at the foot of the stairs with an exuberant Jaheira. 

The druid is beaming, muscular arms folded across her chest. Her eyebrow is raised in entertainment. When Jaheira speaks, her tone is warm and filled to the brim with delight, “I never thought I would live to see the day when you two chose to grace the Remembrance Society with your presence. Welcome, oh holy saviors of Baldur’s Gate!” 

Eirianwen practically flies out of the carriage, squealing ecstatically as she envelops the older woman in a crushing hug. Umber is quick to follow the sorceress. A flurried exchange of greetings ensues, and then the two women walk off without more than a glance back at the Duke and the Ascendant.

Jaheira guides the sorceress up the steps of the venue as they begin updating one another about their lives.

Wyll and Astarion are all but forgotten, left side by side. The two men barely glance at one another before following after the women without a word.

-----

Story navigation: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

[dynamic-swap-au-archive]

this is something that I've been waiting to be able to share for some time! I wanted to post it when I was close to having the guides for dynaswap finished (which I should, very soon <3)

it, quite frankly, changes everything for me.

dynaswap has made jokes about stu and murdoc having sex before [Link], and it's been implied that stu and murdoc were going to start Getting Along phase 4-5 [Link 1, Link 2, Link 3, Link 4], but this is Direct Confirmation that had dynaswap continued stu and murdoc would have been in a romantic relationship phase 5.

I say phase 5 Specifically because of Something Else

this is the full page of a teaser that was released august 7th, 2018 [Link]

this was a few weeks before the official blog came out, so these are Very likely early drafts for what would have been phase 5 (stu's appearance Especially seems to be based more on his appearance in phase 1 than the design they seem to have gone with for phase 4-5.

but this is Also where we finally FINALLY got the uncensored chart for stu's glass eyes [Link]

the red "souk eye" was a gift from murdoc, given to stu in phase 5. both for the obvious reason of It's Name, And because the only images for phase 4 that we have Very Specifically draw stu without any glass eyes at all, going back to having an empty socket [Link 1, Link 2]

it's Also notable because all of those teasers to stu and murdoc's relationship getting Better that the creators posted Show Stu Wearing The Souk Eye. this is clearly Very Significant to them and their relationship, and you notice it Everywhere once you know where to look.

I'll mourn that we'll never know how this happened, how they were supposed to work things out. but I'm so grateful that we Get to know.

these sketches (and several others that I'll be sharing shortly <3) were sourced from a friend who used to be in the dynaswap discord before it was deleted. I trust that they're telling me the truth (I know them personally, and of course we Know the second image is real).

But it's worth noting that we Do have overt proof that the first image was drawn by paleimitatorz.

october 2nd, 2018, they were asked to draw "lovesick murdoc," and in response they posted a colored and slightly edited version of the image in the lower right corner !: [Link]

and something to note here is What makes it edited. All of the images that we have for murdoc phase 4-5 show him with one permanently white eye. which paleimitatorz specifically drew Back In when they colored this sketch.

I don't know if this was done to hide that it was dynaswap or to avoid spoilers, but it Is worth noting that they've posted edited dynaswap images before [Link]

I bring this up for reasons. Firstly that I think this is a slight hint towards what would have happened to murdoc !

his eyes have always gone all white when he's possessed, so there's a lot of Demonic Implications if one of his eyes is now Permanently white. something that I've speculated about Here in regards to a different teaser [Link]

the other reason why I bring it up is because I've taken the liberty of editing it Back to being dynaswap, just for fun.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Geto Confessing His Feelings On A Mission Assignment

Geto Suguru X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Gojo is a meddler

Word Count: 1k

(A/N:) With this I have officially made 300 posts! Oh my goodness how time flies! I write a lot for Gojo and Nanami that I haven't written anything for the Geto fangirls. So this is my gift to y'all! I do have an imagine in the works for several of the JJK guys so keep an eye out! I hope to start work on that soon! It's in my drafts I just have to find time to write it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

You walked between Geto and Gojo down the side streets of Tokyo. Scrolling through your phone, you ignored the guys surrounding you while they shoved one another playfully. Gojo had a mischievous gleam in his bright blue eyes and Geto could only glare at his best friend. He regretted the day he had confessed the way he felt about you to the tall white haired sorcerer. And you oblivious to his feelings thought of him as a really good friend and fellow Jujutsu High student. Shoko had stayed behind on this particular mission, but little did you know it was Gojo's doing that you joined him and Geto.

"Let's check out this crepe place when we're done," you said showing both of them your phone screen. They weren't paying attention, still shoving at one another. You rolled your eyes elbowing both Gojo and Geto in the ribs. This time they started behaving themselves holding their throbbing sides.

"The curse should be right around here," Gojo said his eyes roving around.

Geto shrugged, hands in his pockets as he stood close by your side. You still weren't paying that much attention when Gojo started to walk off.

"I'll go this way and look around, you two go that way," he said pointing towards a park.

Geto glared at his friend who wiggled his fingers in reply. Geto flipped him off, causing Gojo to just laugh obnoxiously and continue onwards.

"Hey shouldn't we stick together," you argued, worried at what trouble Gojo could get himself into.

"I'll be fine," he chuckled. "I'm the strongest after all."

"More like hard headed egotistical jerk," you grumbled, causing Geto to snort.

"Guess it's just me and you now," Geto said before taking off walking. He lumbered along slowly, letting you catch up as he kept his hands stuck deep in his pockets.

"I guess Gojo will never change," you sighed.

"Of course not," Geto rolled his eyes. "From here on out he'll just get worse."

"Don't worry Geto," you grinned patting his head while you both walked side by side, "I'll kick him really hard if he gets too out of control."

He laughed, the overwhelming urge to take your hand making Geto keep his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He kept having flashbacks to the first day you arrived at the school. You had never been among people that could see the things you could. It had frightened you and you found safety to see that you weren't the only one. Then your ability began to flourish and Geto was happy that you had become so comfortable with them. He also remembered how quickly he had become enamored by you. Of course Gojo had been the first to notice and wouldn't let Geto live it down, or forget it. He was bored with watching his dark haired friend not taking a chance on you. So Gojo had taken it upon himself to give Geto his chance, and this moment was of course one of his meddling schemes. Deep in thought, Geto didn't realize that he had been talking to him.

"Sorry?"

"First Gojo and now you are ignoring me," you pouted. "Do I have a disease or something? Am I even here?"

"N-no," Geto stammered. "You're perfect."

You flushed bright pink and he did the same when he realized what he just said.

"I mean...you're fine the way you are. And that you're amazing...and I'm sorry," Geto wanted to run and drown himself in the pond you both were walking around.

Seeing Geto so flustered honestly stunned you. It was sweet but it brought a side you never got to witness. Giving his arm a gentle squeeze, he quieted down, eyes wide and cheeks still blushing bright red.

"Thank you Geto," you soothed. "You don't have to explain yourself."

He sighed, cursing his best friend who had to be laughing his butt off right now while he took out the cursed spirit and Geto dealt with this. He had decided eventually he would tell you how he felt, but not anytime soon. So now Gojo's meddling had him confessing way sooner than he had wanted. Biting the bullet Geto took your hand and led you away from the crowds of people. Finding a quiet bench by a stream that fed into the pond he helped you to sit before he took the spot beside you. Looking down at his shoes instead of you, his stray lock of hair dangled down on one side of his face. You wanted to reach out and tuck it back behind his ear.

"Suguru?"

"I like you," he blurted. "I've liked you since the first time I saw you. I wasn't going to tell you but Gojo has been trying to force me into giving in and tell you. You weren't supposed to go on this mission, just me and him, and he talked them into letting you go. All because he wanted me to have some time alone with you."

You sucked in a breath, stunned that this was actually happening. The Suguru Geto was confessing and it had you giddy.

"I'm sorry for shoving this all on you. I didn't want to strain our friendship. I could live with you never knowing how I felt as long as we could remain friends."

You tapped Geto's shoulder and he looked up. The smile on your face had him realizing how much you cared about him.

"I am so relieved." Reaching out you tucked his hair back behind his ear. "I thought I was the only one who felt that way."

Geto melted, suddenly grabbing you and pulling you into a hug. You returned it gladly.

"I guess this means Gojo won," you whispered and Geto laughed.

"I say we let him guess if anything happened and refuse to tell him anything," Geto replied. You nodded eagerly. If you both could torture the sorcerer who seemed to know everything, you chalked it up as a win, and knowing how Geto felt about you was an added bonus. Geto suddenly stiffened before he stroked your cheek. He waited to see if you pulled away but you leaned into his touch. Unconsciously he leaned inward, taking your lips in a gentle kiss. You decided in that moment as Geto's soft lips caressed yours, that when you both were done torturing Gojo you would thank him. Because of him, the man you dreamed about had finally become yours and you couldn't be happier.

[idcpxseur]

MORE random hcs that will potentially appear in my rewrite

not all of them are headcanons, some of them are lore drops that i decided to throw in for funsies

ive had this sitting in my drafts for so long

[ link to my last hcs post in case ya missed it ]

aphmau is obsessed with dating sims (this was inspired by me discovering blooming panic)

aphmau is a compulsive doodler. to the point where she keeps a little notepad in her bag so she doesnt draw on her hands

laurence is visually impaired/going blind

travis, garroth, and katelyn have all gotten their tongues stuck to frozen lightpoles in their lifetime

dante & travis are childhood friends and travis had a crush on dante in highschool

katelyn and lucinda met in middle school and have had a weird love/hate relationship since

cadenza, kiki, and zoey live in a neighborhood close to the main cast

nana goes by [kandi/honey/sugar] not kawaii chan (there was no way i was keeping that stupid nickname. havent picked which nickname shed go by)

aphmau loves dating sims and got katelyn and nana hooked on them too

nana is actually a magicks user just like in mcd

she uses her little maids to do her chores around the house (katelyn and aphmau hate her for it)

aphmau had a fnaf hyperfixation and infected the entire group with it

aside from nana, who hates anything even remotely spooky

during halloween on mystreet, aaron has dressed up as ghostface

everyone lost their minds

aside from aphmau and katelyn, who laughed at everyone losing their minds

nana actually has an intense fear of relationships which is why she obsesses over other people's relationships because she romanticizes them in her head

garroth, despite also being of the fruity variety, is the friend who buys anything rainbow and gives it to his gay friends

laurence has been and will continuously be the main victim of this

garroth also has no idea what a lot of the flags mean despite everyone reminding him

katelyn has bpd

and he frequently wears crop tops to show it off too

travis is a lil sleepy guy. if hes not doing something important, you can and often will find him curled up snzzing

and we love him for it

aaron is the friend that carries around shit for his friends

specific stim toys for specific people (chewables and clicky keyboards for aphmau, a puzzle ball for zane, soft weighted plushies for nana)

hes got a man purse /hj

aphmau has two long, jagged, faded lines on her back that she was born with. they look like were once deep scars

but theyve never went away and only seemed to have gotten bigger??

while not a big practicer of the craft, travis seems to be really good with witchcraft and magicks

no one knows what his magicks is though because both lucinda and nana have said it feels off

aphmau used to scare zane in a weird way. which is why (aside from just hating everyone and everything) he avoided her for so long before they got close

that fear is gone though

...mostly

travis has dressed up as spiderman for several halloweens in a row

aphmau and zane have gotten hyperfixated on beetlejuice together and dressed up as bj and lydia for halloween and cons

not at all inspired by myself and my best friend wdym

okay this hc list is even longer. i was supposed to be writing but i ended up... not doing that.

anyway thats enough for today!! sorry for my absence im focused on actually pushing out the fucking rewrite instead of just yapping about it

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Sean's grandma, who passed away last week at 96, in the 40s and early 50s based on the clothing. She always loved to be put together, and she was so bubbly and sweet and kind. I only knew her as a sweet old lady with a witty sense of humor that she shared with her husband and passed to her children. I love these photos. Seeing that the brightness and light that I've known for 20 years was always there. She and Sean's grandpa travelled all over. He won sales contests at work and they got to go on several European trips as a reward. Grandpa told us about winning the contest to go to Italy when he drove us to the airport in 2019.

Grandpa has Alzheimers, and he so clearly worked hard to remember what was happening as we all showed up for the funeral. After we got through the ceremony, I ended up being the only one sitting with him in the living room, and he told me several stories over and over. Where he grew up. What his military service was like (he trained on howitzers and other large guns after being drafted for Korea). And he told me two stories I will hold very dear for the rest of my life:

He was working at Sears & Roebuck, and there was going to be a company party. A work friend asked if he was bringing anyone, and he said no, he wasn't. The work friend said, "Well, I think I know someone you'll like."

"And then he introduced me to my wife," is how Grandpa finishes that story.

And the other: After his service in Korea, he was discharged sort of by surprise. He was in Japan, and was told "Get on that truck." He figured he was getting reassigned. It was only when he showed up at the headquarters did he find out he was getting discharged. He got on a boat and got dropped off in Seattle. He called Grandma to get him. She did. And they married shortly after.

She will be deeply missed. I'll never forget going to their house my first Easter I was dating Sean. It was the first time meeting his grandparents and his aunt and uncle and cousins. I had super itchy eyes all day, and the next day, I had to call Sean and tell him to call the family and tell them I'd had pinkeye while I was there. Somehow, no one else caught it.

The last thing the pastor did at Grandma's service was have us do a call and response they always use at Easter. I'm not religious at all, but to have that be the closing moment, from Easter to Easter, it felt really nice.

[navstuffs]

HELLO I JUST SAW YOUR OPEN REQUESTS and how about Ezio with a female reader who is constantly drawing Ezio? Like he is her muse? THANK YOU! 💖💖

Coping Mechanism

Pairing: Ac2! Ezio x F!Reader

Summary: You hang your Ezio's paintings in the Villa's Gallery.

Warnings: none

Author's Notes: well, thank you so much for your patience anon! i have like five different versions of this fanfic in my drafts (one long fic, two drafts, two short ones) and i was incredibly upset none of them satisfied me. finally, i was able to finish a story that i liked and i hope you enjoy it as well!

Mario Auditore was the first to notice your first painting of Ezio Auditore in the Villa's gallery. He stopped for a second, analyzing the square-medium portrait of Ezio's staring directly at the viewer, a severe expression, Mario's eyebrows arched. He was surprised; Mario didn't know if his nephew had seen that one yet, but it would raise his ego even more. The reason? Ezio looked extremely pretty. And real. 

Claudia noticed only by the second and third paintings you hung. You stayed hiding to watch her reaction. After sitting in front of the stupid book the whole day, Claudia paced around the house to distract herself before bed. When she arrived at the gallery, her eyes wandered over the artworks with no interest; she stopped, shocked to see her brother's face in one of them. Wait, not in one of them only.

There were two more. One was rectangular, longer, with Ezio's back to the viewer, standing on top of a building at night. You tried to replicate Florence the best you could: darkness surrounded Ezio while he stood in his white robes, observing his town. The other portrait was square on the smaller side: Ezio lying down in a big grass field, laughing.

When you left your hiding spot, ready to make fun of Claudia, you froze at her reaction. Claudia raised her hand, her fingers almost touching the painting of Ezio's smiling. 

"Claudia?" You questioned, too scared.

"È bellissimo," Claudia whispers in return, her voice cracking. You gulp, rushing toward her side, worried. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Si. Has my fratello idiota seen this? It is so, so stunning!" Claudia nodded, cleaning a few corner tears. 

"Grazie mille, Claudia. And no, not yet. He will, though. I hope he likes it when he sees it."

"He will! Because if he doesn't!" Claudia lifted her closed fist, making an angry face. You smirk and watch her leave, your heart content.

Your fourth painting was a risk; to be frank with yourself, you shouldn't have done it. You were into dangerous territory now. Ezio told you about the feathers, he shared how important they were for his mother.

So when you finished a painting of Ezio reaching for a white feather falling from the sky before him, you debated whether you should show Maria Auditore. The woman didn't say a single word since being brought from Florence, always kneeling in her room.

She hasn't reacted to her kids, why do you think she would respond to a painting? 

You enter the room, your hands shaking as you hold the small square painting. Maria didn't seem to have moved at all since she arrived. Your eyes went to the box on the top cabinet where Ezio told you he would put the feathers, and for an instant, you almost gave up. 

Do it for him. 

With Ezio in your head, your inspiration, your love, you cleared your throat. Maria didn't seem to acknowledge your existence, but you still tried.

"Signora Auditore, I am a friend of your kids, Claudia and Ezio. I will be brief: I did something here, a painting, and I think you should have a look. Honestly, I don't even know if I should be showing you this, but here. I hope you like it."

You placed the painting in front of her in the bed, Maria still ignoring you. You sighed, leaving without looking back. A few days later, Claudia told you she saw your painting in her mom's bed cabinet. You asked anxiously if Claudia had moved, but she denied it.

You didn't let your heart fill with hope. It could have been any of the servants.

-x-

Ezio is actually looking for you when he finally notices the paintings. He had just arrived from Tuscany, eager to see you. After asking Mario and even the architect if they had any idea where you were, Claudia told him she had seen you earlier in the gallery.

Rushing to the gallery, he looks around, no trace of you. Thinking you could be at your favorite paint spot, Ezio perceives his eyes staring back at him. He is perplexed, glimpsing at the other three images of him. Ezio frantically searches for a name, your initials, at the bottom of the canvas. 

Setting course to your favorite spot, behind the Villa, he sees you from afar, distinguished in the middle of the grass, sitting in front of a blank canvas. When he gets closer, he notices some faint lines already painted in the form of a human body.

"Is that me?"

You jump, startled at the sudden masculine voice. When you realize it is Ezio, you get up, hugging him. Ezio passes his arms across your waist, sighing deeply. It always feels right to be back in your arms.

"You are back!"

"Si. For a while."

You separate from him, analyzing his face. Ezio doesn't seem so hurt this time, which is good. He is strangely staring at you and your canvas, making you flush.

"What is it?"

"Well, imagine my surprise when I went to check my art gallery and saw my face staring right back at me!" Ezio exclaims, crossing his arms. He looks amused, so that must mean good news. "Is that a fourth one?"

"Fifth. Did you like it?"

"Cara mia, you honor me immensely!" Ezio bows down, grabbing your hands to kiss, "Those talented hands of yours."

"It helps. When you are away," You admit. 

Ezio doesn't answer that. He smiles sadly, bringing you closer to him. You think you can hear a faint apology but try not to upset him. Not when you are finally together.

"Are you going to pose for me next?" You question, changing topic.

"Ovviamente. Dressed. Half-dressed. Naked?" You giggle, hitting him gently on his side. Ezio fakes shock. "Che? No? Not naked? Both of us naked, then?"

"Ezio Auditore, don't make me regret all my hard work!" You reply, crossing your arms.

"Those paintings of yours will go down as the greatest pieces of History! I can't wait to show Leonardo! He will be sad he never thought about that before!" 

You sigh, feeling suddenly nervous about Leonardo's opinion of your art. The man was a genius and the best friend of your lover. Hearing that Leonardo might not like your paintings would not make you self-conscious about your work.

"What is wrong, bella?" Ezio wonders, noticing your sudden change.

"Bene, it is Leonardo, right? I don't feel completely safe showing those yet. What if he doesn't like it? What if-?"

"Hey, hey, calma, bella. It is impossible. It is your art. It also has my face on it. It is impossible for Leonardo not to like it. I like them. A lot. But I won't tell if you don't want to show."

Ezio is right. His family seems to love it, and he seems to love it. That was your point on painting those: occupy your time and share your love and emotions for him. It gives you some comfort while Ezio is away, and you can put all your bad and good feelings into those. If you two like it, it is all that matters.

MASTERLIST | EZIO'S MASTERLIST

Fratello idiota = Idiot Brother

È bellissimo = It's beautiful

Ovviamente = Obviously

[generalllimaginesss]

Hatton Carlisle head cannon

Everything Hatton Carlisle is here!!

I’ll probably add stuff throughout the series to this that make me think of who Hatton is, so feel free to keep checking back :)) anyways…let’s get to know our girl and her relationship with everybody! Feel free to request things based on her and I’d love to write it for you!

Jim and her dad (Roger) played college hockey together and had been inseparable ever since. They bought their first houses next to each other so that they could drink as much as they wanted and not have to drive home. That stuck and where one goes, the other goes as well.

Her birthday is July 7th, 2001

Everybody calls her Hattie unless something is wrong or they’re mad at her or vice versa

Trevor tried to call her “Hattie Cake” one time and she fought him

Girl’s girl raised amongst a pack of boys

Her parents are Roger and Tara Carlisle and they’re a year younger than Jim and Ellen.

Her older brother’s name is Corey Carlisle and he’s a year older than Quinn. He was projected to get drafted after college at UMich, but his injuries hindered him severely. He’s now an extremely successful real estate agent in New York.

The families celebrate holidays together

Jack and Hatton learning to skate together

Jim and Roger teaching them together

Jack and Hatton once made a pact that if they were both single at the age of 35 that they would get married. Trevor wouldn’t talk to Jack for a day because of that.

Quinn loves Hatton because she’s the female version of him and is unproblematic.

When they were little and Jack did something he wasn’t supposed to, Hatton would put him in time out and then snitch to Ellen about whatever it was that he did.

Jack didn’t dare move when Hatton put him in time out.

When Trevor came into the picture, Hatton felt like Jack was trying to replace her with him.

Trevor and Jack snuck off to the lake house one summer without her when they first met and this pissed Hatton off to no end.

Jim and Ellen definitely found out from a “little bird” and drove there to pick them up.

Hatton was sitting in the backseat waiting for them with a shit eating grin

It took a while for Trevor to figure his feelings out for her, but once he did there was no looking back

Trevor definitely used to buy her gifts for her birthday/christmas/etc.

Hatton tried to go on a date one time and Trevor, Jack, Alex, and Cole showed up at the movies and sat in the row in front of her and her date.

Caufield is like a less intense version of Trevor.

Hatton loves Luke, but isn’t as close to him as she is Quinn.

Quinn and Hatton’s brother are best friends.

Jack pissing Hatton off and Hatton letting him have it

“Hatton, you’re such a bitch” “I’d rather be bitch than be somebody’s bitch”

Ellen had to make a rule when Jack, Hatton, and Trevor were in high school that Hatton could only complain about Trevor 2 days out of the week for 20 minutes.

Quinn would shove a pillow over Trevor’s face anytime he mentioned her more than once.

Quinn loving Hatton like a younger sister

Hatton has always been way more mature than her age, so she gets along with all of the parents at the hockey games.

Trevor and Cole were always Hatton’s partners when they would go tubing on the lake.

Quinn would be the main driver, but would let Jack absolutely wreck his friends

Hatton has seasonal depression, but only Jack knows. He makes it a point to call and check on her almost everyday during hockey season.

One of her strong suits is her ability to read people. She’s very observant of tiny details that normally go unnoticed.

Jack and Hatton getting absolutely wasted one night when their parents went on a vacation together and Quinn having to hide the evidence because they were all underage.

Almost every friend of Jack’s either had a crush on Hatton at some point, or wanted the two of them to date.

“I could never date him. He’s my brother.”

Hatton is a totally different person when drinking. She’s loud, outgoing, and open to try just about anything. The boys know this well, but only sometimes do they take advantage of it by making her do embarrassing dares or coax information out of her.

Hatton has a toothbrush at Luke and Jack’s apartment that stays in Jack’s bathroom no matter what. There have been several girls ask about this throughout the years, but it stays right in its place.

Hatton used to give Jack pep talks the night before his games stretching as far back as middle school.

“No excuses. 100% for 60 minutes. Understand, mister?” “Nothing less, ma’am.”

Alex Turcotte has a special place in Hatton Carlisle’s heart.

Alex was convinced he’d marry Hatton, but when he heard the way Trevor started talking about her he knew he couldn’t take that away from him.

Hatton and Nico once blew all of Jack’s condoms up like they were balloons before he brought a date home.

Jack cussed them out for a solid hour and then went to his room to pout for the rest of the night.

Nico and Hatton are an absolute MENACE when together. Like worse than Zegras, Caufield, and Jacky boy when they’re together.

Nico is the only one that manages to get Hatton to let loose without the help of alcohol.

Luke subtly asking Hatton for dating advice

Hatton making Luke take her out on a date so she can teach him what to do

When everybody is at the lakehouse Hatton and Quinn are the voice of reasons

“No trevor, you can not try to do a backflip off the boat while we’re going 30 mph. There’s gotta be some clause in your contract against that.”

“Jack, sit your ass down.”

Cuddling with them all on the couch after being outside on the water all day long (Hatton’s personal favorite because she loves when the boys are all in one place)

Cole teasing Trevor to no end about Hatton and Trevor always wearing the biggest smile anytime her name gets brought up.

Jack used to try to set up blind dates between Trevor and Hatton, but Hatton always left as soon she saw him.

Her walking home one time because she refused to ride alone in a car with Trevor, but Trevor followed behind her at a distance to make sure she was safe (she didn’t know about this)

The boys offering Hatton unsolicited help with homework even though not a single one finished college

“We didn’t need to know what a Bell curve was to make it to the NHL…”

Her trying to get the boys to take a serious picture with/of her and them always making it the most difficult task

“Hattie you have like 3 followers..” “ooo work it girl” “do these shorts make my butt look big…at least bigger than Hattie’s…”

Jack and Hatton definitely have friendship bracelets that they made each other when they were 10 and they somehow haven’t fallen apart.

“Ok, Jack…what do we say to someone that wants us to take our bracelets off?” “You’ve gotta pry it from my cold, dead fingers..” “good job”

Jack FaceTimes Hatton everyday as soon as he finishes talking to Quinn on the phone. It’s like clockwork at this point.

Jamie feels like he’s known Hatton for as long as he’s known Trevor because Trevor DOES. NOT. SHUT UP ABOUT HER!!!

Hatton steals every one of Jack’s hoodies so he just buys 2 now.

Hatton is the epitome of sass

She had to develop thick skin to survive with the Hughes brothers, but she is naturally sensitive. Not a lot of people see this side of her.