#blade sir leave me alone please!

[dearcharms]

ok i have convinced myself . im not a blade girlie thank fuck

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

You enter Mr. Hansen’s office and he’s not far behind. The slam of the door makes you jump. You whip around to face him as he storms in, brushing past you so roughly that you teeter on your feet. You’re happy you didn’t go all in and buy those heels. 

“You wanna waste me time, Critter? Huh?” He snarls as he turns and slams a fist on his desk. He winces and pulls back, shaking out his fingers. 

“No, sir, I wasn’t--” 

“You were. Look, you wanna flirt, do it on your own time. I don’t pay you to make eyes at the dweeb,” he growls. “But it’s sure as shit my damn money that got you the new gear, isn’t it?” 

“Sir, he was--” 

“Not very fucking subtle, is it? A red dress. Might as well sew a scarlet fucking letter on,” he searches around furiously and grabs something you can’t see. “How about I help you out?” 

He charges at you with a pair of scissors and you squeal. For a minute, you foresee your own murder. The gleam in his eyes assures you of your fate but he doesn’t plunge the blades into your chest. 

He grabs your skirt as he bends and snips into the fabric. You yelp and he tosses the scissors to his feet. He clutches and tears across, rending the skirt at your mid-thigh. You try to pull away but only help his destruction. He snaps the last thread and stands, whipping it at your face. 

“Show a little leg, Critter, no use in being fucking shy,” he kicks the scissors and stomps away. “Hello, now you got a little shawl to keep you warm, don’t you?” 

“Sir, I’m sorry, I... it’s just a dress.” 

“Every time I walk out of this office, I see you with the fuckhead. Just a fucking dress. You’ve been dressing like a paper bag for two years and suddenly you’re sweeping in here dressed like a goddamn cherry. You think I’m fucking stupid?" He sneers and drops into his chair. 

You stare at him as you clasp onto the strip of fabric. You look down slowly and push your legs together. You’re horrified at how much skin is on show. 

“I have to go home and change,” you utter. 

“No, you’re going to stay here and do your fucking work,” he snaps as he lifts his feet onto his desk, his chair creaking loudly. “And if that dipshit comes around you tell him to go fuck himself.” 

You blink and look at him again. You don’t understand why he’s so upset. You thought, stupidly, that he would be impressed. He always insulted your clothes and you finally took his advice. You sniff and nod. 

“Yes, sir.” 

You turn and walk to the door. The dress is ruined but you can return the rest. He clears his throat. 

“Pick up the fucking scissors,” he snarls. “You know better than to leave a mess.” 

You recoil from the door and cross to the scissors, open in the corner of the room. You bend and pick them up, not realising until you feel the air between your thighs, how short the dress really is now. You stand up sharply and scurry over to put the scissors back in their place. 

Hansen watches you, a stitch between his brows as he steeples his hands. You retreat and try to shake away his gaze. You shut the door quietly and brace yourself. You sigh as you find yourself alone. You’re not sure you could tell Jensen to go away after all of that. 

You go to your desk and sit. You tuck away the remnants of your skirt in your bag. You push your shoulders back and wake up your computer. The smell of cinnamon tickles your nose. You look down at the muffin. It doesn’t feel right now, not after Mr. Hansen ruined all the rest. 

You shove it aside and forget about it. You keep your eyes glued to the screen between getting up to print or mark the board or run off on another errand. You don’t let yourself stray from anything beyond Mr. Hansen’s demands. 

‘Coffee.’ The singular order pops up in the corner of your screen. 

You stand at once and snatch up your purse. The chance to get free of the stolid tension is enough to have you moving at double speed. You skip the elevator and take the stairs instead. You don’t take a single moment to look ahead before you dive out into the city street. 

A sheet of rain crashes down on you. Of course. Too late. You're already soaked. 

You find your beaten-up car and swing yourself into the driver seat. Frig. You’re completely drenched. Oh, and your umbrella is at your desk from the last time it rained. You sigh and try to ignore the damp clinging of fabric. 

You patiently pull out into the crawl of noontime jam. You can’t get close enough to Esther’s to avoid another slake of rain. You run inside and wait patiently for Hansen’s coffee. You ask for a double cup to keep it warm. You shield the lid as you hurry back through the downpour. 

Your spot at the office is filled as you pulled up. You park further away and bemoan another venture out into the elements. Today can’t get any worse. 

You have the coffee. That’s all that matters. You get out and sprint across the street. This time you take the elevator as your soles are too slippery to stay on the tile. 

Several looks ping off of your disheveled appearance. You ignore them like you always do. You get off on your floor and surpass your desk without missing a beat. You knock on Hansen’s door. He grunts for you to come in. He’s expecting you. He’s waiting and no matter how quick you are, it’s not fast enough. 

You stop short with a squeak of your flats as you enter. You’re unprepared for the full flash of Hansen’s bare chest. Your eyes round and you hold up the cup. You can’t breathe as you try not to stare at the thick hair across taut muscles. 

“Coffee,” you cough out and rush over to set it on the coaster.  

He casually pulls out a black polo and holds it up, “what do ya think, Critter? This make the bitch wish she’d never left me?” 

You blink and look at the wall, “um, yes, sir. I guess--” 

He isn't as mad as before. That alone puts you on edge.

“Woah, what the fuck happened to you?” He lowers the shirt, once more showing his buff torso. 

“It’s raining, sir,” you shrug, “I’ll just go dry off...” you look down at the moisture around your shoes, “and get a mop.” 

You turn with another wet squeak and he chuckles. You ignore him as you head for the door. 

“White panties and a red dress?” He clucks, “tacky.” 

You trip and stop as you feel the back of your skirt. The water has the fabric stuck to your skin and you didn’t notice in the chaos how it rode up. You pull it down and apologise under your breath as you flee. 

You should just stop hoping things won’t get worse and just expect it. 

[loganwritesprobably]

Love Looks Different

Some t4t love between a FTM!Reader and Crocodile, Mihawk and Ace. If people were interested I'd happily take a stab at trying a MTF!Reader too

Content/Warnings: FTM!Reader, FTM!Crocodile, FTM!Mihawk, FTM!Ace, fluff, t4t love, Cross Guild era for Croc & Mihawk, pre-Marineford for Ace, pretty much all fluff, Reader takes T + has had top surgery in Croc's section, Reader wears a binder in Mihawk's section, Reader and Ace are both pre-top surgery in Ace's section and sunbathe shirtless

Crocodile had woken earlier than you, as was usual. It would be nice to not wake up alone occasionally but you weren't one to complain. You'd known what you were getting into when you began to date ex-Warlord Sir Crocodile.

You padded out from your shared bedroom to the main living area of your shared tent, itching at the scars on your chest. A breakfast was already made for you, and keeping warm in the oven. You smiled and collected the sausage and bacon sandwich from the oven, quickly turning the appliance off, then dropped into the beanbag Crocodile had bought just for you, getting comfortable while you ate your breakfast. The paper was waiting for you on the side table beside the beanbag, and you happily took it in hand for some light morning reading.

"Sweetheart, are you up?" Crocodile asked softly as he walked into the tent, spotting you reading the paper almost immediately. "Yeah, I'm up. You need something?" You asked, taking the final bite of your breakfast sandwich. "Yes actually, would you mind doing my shot for me? My hand is trembling more than usual today." He asked, and you could see that he was embarrassed despite him trying to hide it. "Of course. I'll do yours, then I can do mine." You said, taking your lover's hand to be helped out of the beanbag, his eyes fond and your smile wide. You were only too happy to help.

You swung your blade, making contact with your buddy's. The sound resonated in your bones, and it felt good to get frustration out. You'd sourced someone from Buggy's crew to spar with, even if he wasn't as good as you usually would prefer to train with, he was serving his purpose.

"Darling - what are you doing?" Mihawk called out as he strode toward the training ground. You paused the sparring you were doing and wiped your brow with the hem of your shirt, nodding for the pirate to leave for now. "Just getting my blood pumping, and some energy out." You replied, approaching your boyfriend with a smile. You rested your sword against a barrel and reached up to kiss him. "With your binder on?" He asked with a raised brow, reaching beneath your shirt to tug at the hem of the item. You grimaced, a little embarrassed that you'd been caught. You hadn't come out here with intentions of doing dangerous exercise but you had forgotten you'd had it on until you'd already started and figured it was good training. "I won't always have time to take it off before a fight. I should train for the possibility." You replied, tangling your fingers in the ends of Mihawk's hair. "You should minimise the risk to your body by only doing it in dire circumstances." Mihawk retorted, not pleased by the reasoning you'd given him. You rested your forehead against his, sighing softly. You knew he was right, you were just being careless.

"I know how uncomfortable it is to take it off around Buggy's men. You can't guarantee they'll understand. But you know I am always here to defend you, should you need it." Mihawk assured you, rubbing a slow and gentle hand over your back, he then kissed your forehead. Your free hand traced up Mihawk's toned chest and slipped beneath his coat. His scars were practically gone, healed so well, but small signs of his major surgery remained, at the very edges of where his pecs now were, almost in his armpits. One day, the both of you would walk around with your chests proudly on display. For now, you let him be proud enough for the both of you.

You strode out onto the deck of the Moby Dick, glancing around for your partner. Ace was around here somewhere, you were sure. You spotted Thatch and Izou sitting together and chatting, and Pops was nowhere to be found. The deck was pretty quiet actually.

"Oh, finally, maybe you can talk some sense into him!" Haruta called out upon spotting you. You approached him with a confused smile, but you had a distinct feeling it was about Ace. "What's up?" You asked once the distance between you was shorter, coming to a stop beside your friend. "He's sunbathing with no shirt on." Haruta said, pointing in Ace's direction. It took you a minute of staring to realise what the problem was with that, and began to loudly laugh. He was sunbathing with his tits out. "No different to anyone else." You retorted with a shrug and a wink, removing your own shirt where you stood to join your lover. They were still adjusting and you didn't hold anything against them for it, it was too funny to be offended anyway.

You lay down on the deck beside Ace and laced your fingers together. "You're doing this on purpose." You said to him, and you didn't need to explain for him to understand. "Thatch blamed me for the state of the kitchen. I haven't even been in there today." Ace responded. "What was the state of the kitchen?" "Flour everywhere." "Oh, yeah, that wasn't you that was me." The two of you erupted into laughter, content to lay there together to enjoy the warm sun and just being together.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots

[kissorkill16]

Don't Do It: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: No one would care if Nicky did it. ...Right?

Mr. Murtaugh couldn't help but grimace as he read the front page of the school newspaper.

Nicky was on the front page, and it looked like he threw a chair out of his window, smashing the glass.

Who took the picture? Because he'd like to have a serious conversation with them.

And what could have happened to Nicky to make him do that?

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he saw a familiar boy in between two dumpsters, wearing a teal shirt, brown shorts, and goggles.

Nicky.

He was all scratched up and dirty, but the thing that really made the science teacher drop his paper was the fact that he was holding a long, sharp, tin can lid.

...And he was holding it to his throat.

Mr. Murtaugh ran to the boy, grabbed his wrists and pulled him to his feet, trying not to lose his grip as Nicky flailed and screamed like an asylum patient.

"Nicholas, what do you think you're doing?!"

"LET GO OF ME!", Nicky screamed, trying to keep his bleeding fingers on the tin lid as the science teacher pried it from his hands.

Mr. Murtaugh finally managed to get the lid from Nicky's hands and he threw it behind him, still holding onto the boy who kept trying so hard to get away from him. "Nicky, please calm down. Resistance is futile."

Then out of nowhere, Nicky stopped fighting and started crying. He fell back down on the ground, burying his face in his hands.

"P-Please, sir!", he said in between sobs, "Let me do it! Let me drive that sharp blade into my body!"

Soon enough, he just fell down to the ground, completely going limp as he felt himself lose energy.

"It's the only way they'll leave me alone.", he said, "They won't stop messing with me if I don't do it."

The science teacher was at a complete loss for words.

"I want to die, Mr. Murtaugh.", he said, "Just let me die."

Then he suddenly fell asleep.

The science teacher slowly picked him up and carried him to the nurses office, laying him down on one of the gurneys.

One of the nurses came in, and they were surprised to see Mr. Murtaugh there, especially with a student. He's always complained to everyone in the staff that he thought that the students were nothing but little brats.

"Patch up his wounds for me, would you, Delilah?", he said.

The nurse nodded and began searching the cabinets for bandages and disinfectant pads.

Meanwhile, Mr. Murtaugh walked out of the infirmary and saw that almost every student in the school was in the hallway, reading the front page of the newspaper.

They all stilled when they saw him, forcibly smiling.

"I have become aware that it has passed lunch hour and none of you are yet in class.", he said through gritted teeth. "You have two minutes to correct that."

All of the students scattered throughout the halls, bumping into each other as they all ran to their classes.

After Mr. Murtaugh made sure that everyone was in class, he went back to the infirmary to see Nicky laying down on the gurney, all patched up now, but still bleeding.

"Let me die.", he whispered in his sleep, "I don't want to suffer anymore."

The science teacher sat down next to Nicky, gently taking his bandaged hand in his.

"Nicholas.", he said, "I know you're suffering right now, and from what I saw this afternoon in the paper, it hasn't been getting better for you. Those students have also proven that to me very well."

Nicky began to cry in his unconsciousness, "They called me a freak.", he said, "They called me Sick Nick. I can't live like this anymore, sir! I can't keep living like this."

He gently squeezed Nicky's hand.

"But death isn't the answer.", he sternly said, "You don't want to kill yourself because it's what you think is best, you only want to end it all to appease the demon. But the demon will only make things worse for you."

Nicky began to calm down, the tears stopped running down his cheeks.

"Don't end it, Nicholas.", said the science teacher, "Despite all of this, there are still people in this messed up world who want to help you get better. Like me and your parents."

When he said that, Nicky slowly opened his eyes a little bit. "But what about my friends?", he asked. Mr. Murtaugh shook his head.

"Of course not, Nicky. Those friends of yours only want to stand by and not get involved, like they've been doing ever since you came to this town.", he said. "Just me and your parents. Don't worry about anything or anyone else. Just heal."

Nicky nodded in his sleep. "Okay.", he whispered, then he was breathing softly and was fully asleep again.

Mr. Murtaugh just sat by his side, already dialing Nicky's parents on his phone.

[amanita-muscaria-lover]

Libby Reads Trials of Apollo: The Tower of Nero

~spoilers below the cut~

"On Nero's own now do your lives depend" ??

Celtic deities huh? New series pls

I love Clueless Apollo/Lester

"Choo choos were more Hephaestus's thing."

Bro leave Percy and his family alone 😭😭

Estelle Blofis-Jackson?!?! Nvm nvm never stop bugging Percy

So the next (presumably three) PJO books are running at the same time as ToA

Percy's gonna find out about Jason when he gets to Camp Jupiter 💔

Sally and Paul are literally so nice wtf

Nero is literally crazy wtf wtf

"With luck, I'll survive." JESUS

Of course Nero has more Greek fire than anyone else

Grey Sisters appearance!!

Will and Nico !!!!!!

Stop talking about Jason stop it 💔

I actually adore Will Solace

Bianca mention 😭

Babe wake up Nico lore just dropped

Will is a Star Wars fan let's goooo

"My boyfriend..." GODS THEY'RE CUTE

Luguselwa!!!

Fuck Nero

Luguselwa?? 🥺

I physically cannot handle Ghost Jason help

God fuck Nero is such a manipulator

Loving Luguselwa's fork and knife hands (my baby 🥺)

NICOOOOO

Austin and Kayla let's gooooo

Apollo/Lester going after Meg is just awesome

MEG IS APOLLO'S ROLE MODEL AHH

Nero stopping Nico's blade is beyond horrifying wtf wtf

WILL AND LUGUSELWA AND RACHEL LET'S GOOOOOOO

"No one hits my boyfriend." Yes sir 🫡🫡🫡

Loving Rachel having a larger role in this series

The troglodytes deserve all the hats in the world I love them sm

Blue plastic hairbrush mention?!

Lester crying over how grown up Meg seemed kills me

Robbie Daymond's voice for Python is legit insane and so perfect

Arrow of Dodona 🫡🥺

Missing Lester rn (I think Apollo is too)

Screw Zeus (Hera a little less I guess ?)

Apollo defending the Arrow of Dodona to the Grove 💔💔 tears tears tears

WISE GIRL WISE GIRL

Marine Biology. I fucking knew it. He's gonna stick with that trust me

Percy talking about Jason -> 💔🥺💔🥺💔

Percy talking about Estelle -> ❤️😘❤️😘❤️

Bi Piper?? Lesbian Piper?? Okay slay

Aeithales sounds like my ideal living space. Curtains of hanging vines? Yes please.

"The sun always comes back."

We're friends? Oh okay 🥺🥺

[soft-girl-musings]

An Unexpected Proposition (pt. 1)

based on this prompt from @imaginexhobbit, previously submitted under @jawn-i-made-coffee

cross-posted to ao3

part 2

K��li x fem!Reader

tags: mentions of blood/injury, Reader is described as tall (by human standards), Y/N is used

wc: 1,615

fic summary: An injured dwarf appears on your doorstep. Do you grant him sanctuary on this stormy night?

A/N: posting this is totally self-indulgent and very out of left field for this blog but idc, we just reached 800 ao3 hits on this bad boy (some days we blog for the younger self anyway). I submitted this from my high school blog and revamped it in 2020, might flesh it out beyond pt 2 if the muse strikes.

Thunder and lightning seem to battle for superiority in the storm, chasing heavy torrents North. The evening is dark and damp, but you don’t mind. Your cottage is as safe a haven as any. You sit before your hearth, fire blazing as you bury yourself beneath several blankets, a mug of tea warming your lap. Nothing could ruin your cozy evening alone.

As if on cue, a brilliant flash of lightning illuminates the windows. A bloodied man’s face is pressed against the glass, his lips moving incoherently. You stifle a scream. In an instant you have your sword in hand and cloak about your shoulders, ready to face your intruder. Throwing the door open, you strike a defensive stance and scan the property. To your right, you see that it is no man at all, but a dwarf bleeding out in your garden. Dark hair clings to his face, bruised and battered. Blood marrs his complexion as rainwater drenches him. Before you can speak, the dwarf doubles over and begins to heave into your prized rose bush. You grimace.

"Please," he rasped, "please, I ask for sanctuary." His knees give way with the last syllable. You manage to catch him before he falls into the mud.

"I’ve got you, sir dwarf." Propping him up, you guide him inside. "Poor thing, you're soaked to the bone."

His small frame would not have been so heavy if not for his copious belongings. The dwarf seemed to have packed for a long journey, which had somehow led him to your door. You stumble over to the kitchen and deposit him in a chair, his head lolling to one side. You pour a cup of water and help him drink.

“Thank you,” he manages to rasp after downing a second glass. Life seemed to be returning to him already. “I do not mean to be a bother.”

You tilt your head quizzically. “If anyone’s bothered, sir dwarf, it’s you. Come, let me help you--” you assist him in his efforts to remove his belongings from his weary shoulders. He shivers fiercely, but does not refuse your help.

You notice how cold and pale he is. “Best not to strain yourself… let me start a bath for you. Your wounds need to be cleaned before they are dressed.”

You hand him a blanket and lead him to a partition in the next room. “Here, you can wrap yourself in this while I start the water.” The dwarf removes his outer layers and complies, his dark eyes never leaving you as you begin the tedious task of hauling numerous pots of hot water to the tub.

“Why are you helping me?” he finally asks, his face growing more puzzled with each trip you make.

You stop in your tracks, offering a shrug. “Because you asked.”

With that, you leave him to his bath.

You gather the dwarf’s wet clothing and lay each article in front of the still-warm stove. On the other side of the table lay his daypack and weapons. You hadn’t taken the time to inspect them before: the dwarf had been carrying archery equipment, numerous knives, and a shortsword. You examine each piece with reverence. The dwarves were renowned for their craftsmanship in the forges, but you had never seen proof of their handiwork until this moment. The blades were smaller than any you were used to, expertly fashioned with intricate detail.

"Like what you see, then?"

You jump at the sudden voice, dropping a knife. The dwarf had come out dressed in the shirt and trousers you had laid out for him. He stands by the fire, drying his hair.

"I was just admiring your weapons, sir-"

"Kíli."

You nod. "(Y/N)." You notice the color has already returned to his skin and his cuts were clean. He had looked much worse before; in the light of the fire, he was almost handsome. "Feeling any better?"

"Oh, loads. I cannot thank you enough for taking me in." He grins, and you can’t help but follow suit.

"What were you doing out there? Facing that storm as you were seemed like a deathwish."

"I had the misfortune of running into some bad company at your tavern." His body fell heavily into a chair by the fireplace.

"I'm afraid the locals do not take kindly to dwarves," you say with an apologetic smile, standing to join him in your earlier seat. "What are you doing so far West? Your people are native to the mountains, I was led to believe."

You realize how young the dwarf was when his face breaks out in another eager grin. "I'm on a quest. I was on my way to Hobbiton."

You lean forward, intrigued. "The Shire? What kind of quest concerns the halflings?"

Kíli tells you of his Uncle's plan to reclaim Erebor for the dwarves. He makes sure to highlight how dangerous the task may prove to be. You try to hide your amusement, but your shaking shoulders and involuntary simper do not escape your companion's eye.

Kíli crosses his arms. "Is something funny?"

You wipe a tear from your cheek. "I'm sorry, but you look like you've seen nary a battle in all your days."

"What, like you have, lass?" he scoffs, nodding toward your sword propped by the door. "I'll bet you've never laid a hand on that weapon of yours until tonight."

Your expression darkens. "Watch your words, sir dwarf. I have seen and spilt more blood than you would care to believe."

Kíli shrinks back in his chair. "Y-yeah? When?" Even under correction, his excitement could not be diminished.

You tell him of your past days as a soldier. Having always been tall for your age, you had cut your hair and enlisted in a male disguise when you were barely sixteen. You regale him with tales of the lands you had seen and battles you fought as a young woman among hardened men. The fading storm is the perfect backdrop for your stories; in truth, it had been a long time since you'd been able to talk about your fighting days, and you revel in the drama of the moment. Kíli clings to your every word, apparent awe and admiration dancing across his features. Many hours and cups of tea pass between you before you conclude your saga, the fire having long since died down.

You yawn. Dawn was but a few hours away. "It's late. You must leave in the morning, I assume?"

"Yes, I have to get back on the road."

You stand and stretch your aching muscles. "We should both get to bed, then. I have an extra room you're welcome to." You hold out your hand. "Goodnight, Kíli."

Kíli rises and takes your hand, but instead of shaking it as you intended, he leans forward and kisses the back of it. Your face grows warm at the surprising softness of his lips. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

He turns to leave, but stops and looks back at you.

"(Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you leave that kind of life? You spoke so fondly of your time in service."

You give a sad smile. "Let’s just say it wasn’t by choice." You begin to walk to your bedroom, but Kíli grabs your hand as you pass.

"If you had the chance, would you go back?"

You squeeze his hand and wink. "In a heartbeat."

__________

"What's all this, then?" You laugh. From the looks of it, Kíli had been cooking a small feast since before dawn.

"Good morning, my lady!" Kíli wipes his hands on a cloth and bows with great bravado. "I hope you don't mind me raiding your larder. I wanted to express my gratitude for your generosity." He takes your hand and leads you to the head of the table, fixing your plate once you sit down.

"You really didn't have to do this."

"Ah, 'course I did! I'd have drowned if it wasn't for you."

You spend the morning laughing and eating your way through the meal with Kíli, realizing how much you will miss his company in the days ahead. He’s been a refreshing change of pace for the simple monotony you’d build for yourself. As you wash the dishes after your meal, you notice he is dressed in his clothes from last night, weapons and bag secured to his back.

"All set, then?" You know your face betrays you, but you don’t care if he knows how sad you are. You had gained a friend last night.

"Not quite." He practically bounds up to your side, that familiar grin plastered onto his features. "I have something to ask of you."

You set down the plate you had been scrubbing. "And what's that?"

"Will you join me? On my quest, I mean?" His face is radiant with expectation and excitement.

You busy yourself with another dish, shaking your head. “Kíli, I’m not quite sure what to say-"

"Say yes! (Y/N), you told me yourself that you missed your old life. This would be the perfect chance for you to reclaim it!"

Despite all logic, you realize how right he is. Some small but powerful part of you had longed to be on the road with him when he spoke to you last night. You knew it was rash, but your heart was already pumping from the mere mention of excitement, aching to get out in the world once more. The quiet life you had been leading was nice, but it paled in comparison to the journey Kíli now offered. You craved adventure. When else would you have the opportunity to taste it?

"I'll have my things packed within the hour."

__________

A/N: you ever feel an old hyperfixation staring you down, threatening to return if you look at it too long? that might be happening again. only time will tell.

tysm for reading!

[allzelemonz]

Messed Up: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 27, S&M Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘sir’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: E/Smut, blood Warnings: Rough sex, rough masturbation, anal fingering, sex toys, anal plug, knife play, blood, marking, dom/sub, bottom Micah and top Reader, aftercare, cuddling, choking, asphyxiation, blacking out, passing out Summary: After misbehaving before, Micah gets a well loved punishment.

Micah’s teeth feel like they may shatter from how hard he bites down on the cool metal in his mouth. His hand is wrapped around his dick, the other probing harshly into his ass. The knife in his mouth keeps him from making much noise when his dry fingers push too far inside. He has gun oil, he could make things slick, but you told him not to. And Micah follows orders, at least when it comes to fucking.

He moves desperately, his hips fighting between fucking his hand and being fucked by his fingers. His eyes are closed, head tilted back just enough that you have a nice view of your marks on his neck. Micah disobeyed last time you had time together, he came without permission. That’s why he’s alone tonight with the little nics from the earlier teasing still bleeding down his skin. He looks pretty like this, all desperate for the end. His movements make his stomach move in a way that reminds you how soft Micah is despite the hard shell. His body is like his demeanor in bed, soft and malleable.

“Micah…” You chide when he looks at you.

His eyes snap back up to the sky. He’s not allowed to see you. But with how nice he looks, you take pity, moving over to him and putting a gentle hand on his chest to stop his desperate movements. He freezes, blinking his pretty and blissed eyes open to look at you. Slowly, you remove the knife from his mouth and he licks his dry lips. Blood from his tongue smears around, he didn’t have the sense not to cut himself on the blade.

“Darlin’ I-”

You give him a pointed look. It’s not often he’s supposed to call you something specific, but this is a  punishment.

“Sir…” He corrects. “Lemme-”

The knife’s blade pressing against his throat shuts him up. He stills, careful not to get another cut on his skin. You trail the blade along with care, watching his eyes as they try to follow the movement hidden by his chin.

“You know how I feel about begging during punishments, Micah.”

He whimpers, a common response when he wants pity.

“Say it.”

“Sorry, sir.” He says quickly, always eager to please. “Wanna be a good boy for ya.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. Can you lie on your stomach for me?”

Micah waits for you to move the knife away before he collapses onto his front, his exhausted body happy for the momentary relief. It’s only momentary, a second later Micah is moaning from the slap you land on his ass. Then he whines, as if he can’t bear not being hit for even a second.

“Hips up.”

Micah scrambles to get his legs under himself so he can prop himself up. A pre-prepared tool, a dilator from the local fence, finds its way into your hand. You slide it into Micah in a rough shove, relishing in the guttural noise that leaves his throat. When he’s quiet again, only little whimpers escaping with his breathing, you pet his hair for a moment. A bit of comfort after hurting him for hours, he hums and presses into your touch.

“Flip over for me.”

Micah nods, taking a slow breath to prepare himself. When he shifts to settle on his back, the dilator presses into him further and he shuffles to find a good way to lie down. You wrap a hand around his neck to still him and he stops, his eyes following the trail of your arm all the way up your body.

“Continue.” You order. “Keep your pretty eyes open. This time, you can look.”

“Yes, sir.” Micah breathes.

His hand wraps around his dick again, his eyes trailing over you as he starts fucking into his fist. The dilator shuffles inside of him as he moves, making him squint but he keeps his eyes fixed on you. Looking over his body, admiring the slight movement of extra skin as he seeks a desperate end, you squeeze at his throat. Micah huffs for a moment before he settles, moaning before he runs out of the excess air. He finishes quickly, his hips twitching erratically up into his fist as you squeeze harder at his air supply. His visions blurs, the sight of you splotchy until his body goes limp against the blankets beneath him.

You lean forward, checking that he’s breathing now that he’s gotten what he wanted. When you’re assured he’s alright, you take on the gentle role. You remove the dilator from him slowly, careful not to jostle him as you settle his hips back down. With a wet rag, you wipe him clean of his cum and carefully make sure his ass is clear of pomade from the dilator or blood from his rough fingering. You get a pillow settled under his head, then get a new rag to clean up the trickles of blood from your own roughness before. With a few kisses to his bruised and blooded neck for your own reassurance, you move to grab him a blanket. You settle in beside him, ignoring your own arousal in favor of cuddling such a well behaved Micah. He almost instantly curls into you, his lack of air now giving way for real sleep as he nuzzles softly into your chest.

[moonjellysfeast]

Arthur and Hanna - Debut

cw; torture, kidnapping, manipulation, religious imagery, angel character, unhealthy dynamics.

Of course Arthur needed a guardian angel, his life was wracked by misfortune and the proof was scarred across him. He tended to wear sweaters to hide as much of them as possible, though he couldn't do much for the one traveling up his left cheek and through his dead eye. Each scar looked like a river with how it cut through the many freckles covering him, reminding him of times where she only just kept him alive.

For as kind and loving as Hanna was, she was first and foremost, a good angel. Her instructions had been to keep the boy alive at least until he found his true calling. Of course, they hadn't specified what that was to be but Hanna felt sure it would be obvious when they found it. She hardly spoke to him, even when he was young and begged her to just remind him he wasn't as alone as he seemed. Hanna was a good angel, she followed instructions. That had been why she hadn't done anything when Arthur was kidnapped. Nor when he was chained in a barn, just a bit separated from some kidding goats. However, when you came to him in the daylight, suddenly visible to Arthur and his angel, she took a bit of pause. You grinned at him and Arthur felt something click within himself.

"Aren't you glad I didn't string you up? Just a bit of chain attached to the wall, I know your kind are too good at escaping for just the gate, lambs like you can climb~" you held his chin, inspecting him like any other livestock.

"I-I am, sir. P-Please don't kill me..." Arthur whined, him and Hanna watching your smile grow in awe.

"What a sweet thing you are! Now, don't tell me someone else has kept you~ Folk like me don't let our animals wander wild like you were. Plus you're a bit underweight, little lambs should be well fed or you'll never make enough meat to be worthwhile. Unless you were a dairy creature, in which case, you must not have been bred yet..." You grabbed a fistful of his sweater, drawing attention to the size of his chest, sizable for a man, but not anywhere near what you'd expect of a proper dairy cow.

Arthur stared at you, bright red in the face. His poor brain could not process the implications of what you said, too confused to even notice you cut his shirt off with a sickle. He was only broken from his daze when rough hands landed on his chest. As you ripped the rest of his clothes off and muttered to yourself about a lack of branding or tagging, Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, a mess of emotions he couldn't decipher. Upon examining him thoroughly enough to be certain he wasn't claimed, you traced your sickle over his skin, the sharp blade leaving a small trail of crimson behind it. He shuddered and whined but made no move to pull away, even whimpering out some apologies.

"Such a sweet thing~ I ought to keep you alive, so I'll have to mark you as mine, lamb~" You step away from him to go prepare a brand for him.

"Uhm... Sir? You... are not human, are you? You-You are a shepherd," A soft voice echoed into the barn moments before Hanna was pinned to the straw-covered floor. She was in clear awe, having taken a human-esque form she still had golden wings that now splayed out like a taxidermy bird. "I've kept him alive for you~ You're his- our shepherd~ My lord~"

[sailorkamino]

healing and meditation (hunter's pov)

wildflower masterlist

relationships: twi'lek!jedi!reader x hunter [gn, can be platonic or romantic]

word count: 2.1k

summary: hunter, used to being the sole authority figure of his batch, worries you'll complicate things. through communication and force osik he realizes sharing the responsibility isn't so bad.

warnings: sensory overload, migraines, anxiety, fear of medical practices, gossiping shinies, cross doesn't trust you yet

mando'a translations: osik- shit

Four man squads typically have a sergeant and corporal but not clone force 99. To be fair, clone force 99 has never been like other clones. Hunter has always been the sole leader. Until you.

Your first simulation together is not great. Well you’re great by yourself and they're great as a unit but you don’t know how to work together yet. In the beginning Hunter instinctually starts giving orders, completely forgetting you're his superior officer.

When you land behind Tech to cover him he turns in surprise and almost eats lightsaber. Wrecker is so distracted by your use of the force he stops mid battle to gawk. Crosshair hisses like a feral tooka when a blade comes too close to his beloved firepuncher.

You’re running and leaping so fast between droids they wind up shooting way too close to you for comfort. You don’t seem phased but Hunter almost has a heart attack everytime.

Together you pass. Barely. Hunter is both annoyed and embarrassed at their own performance. Still you don’t seem upset. He wonders if you’re optimistic or just delusional. You tell him to come to your temporary quarters after late meal.

That evening he’s knocking on your door. You weren’t in the mess hall much to the regs’ disappointment. He heard a few gossiping about you and Commander Wolffe. Is that why you weren’t there? Because you wanted alone time with Wolffe? Or are you upset over the sim? It certainly wasn’t their best performance.

You let him in with a kind smile. Hunter can’t recall anyone being happy to see him but here you are. Or you’re a really good actor. He doesn’t know you well enough to tell yet.

Your quarters are like the rest of Kamino: clinical and barren. You plop on the edge of the bed, gesturing to a chair. “Please take a seat. Sorry I couldn’t talk to you earlier. I promised some cadets I would teach a melee class.”

He doesn’t know why you’re apologizing to him. This is the time you agreed to meet at. He’s seen enough holofilms on Tech’s datapad to know nat borns talk like this sometimes. “No need to apologize, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me my rank outside of missions. I know that’s a bit unorthodox but that’s actually why I feel drawn to your unit, I think you’re unorthodox as well.”

Hunter nods slowly. They have a much looser command structure than most units. “Yes sir,” he replies instinctually. He winces when he realizes he broke your rule but you offer a small reassuring smile.

"I’m used to working with a fellow commander so I’m not gonna go on an ego trip if you speak your mind. I'd rather you correct me than get one of your brothers hurt. I try to be as democratic as possible.”

Suddenly you hold out your open palm as a datapad flies into it. His eyes widen at the casual display of power but you’re busy tapping on the device. “Tech sent me your battle plans and codes. I have a few questions if you don’t mind.”

Hunter leaves the meeting much lighter. You actually treat him like an equal and value his input. Your teamwork improves with each sim as the batch finds ways to incorporate your force abilities.

Hunter finds your most intimidating power is your empathy. You look at him like you can right through him. It makes him uncomfortable. He’s always been the strong one. Not only as a sergeant, but as the oldest brother. When he feels a migraine coming on he knows he won’t be able to hide it for long.

What started off as a headache is slowly mounting. Everything is suddenly too much. He can tell a sensory overload is inevitable but it’s like watching a speeder wreck, there’s nothing he can do to stop it. And that fuels anxiety.

Hunter wants nothing more than to crawl into his bunk and hide from the world but he doesn’t know the protocol. Should you dismiss him? Should you debrief?

You begin a conversation with Wrecker he’s unable to follow. From the corner of the ship, as far away from his unit as possible while still being in the room, Hunter flinches. When you don’t answer Wrecker looks back at his older brother and his eyes insantly widen.

“What’s wrong, sarge?” You ask softly.

He looks at you in alarm. He didn’t want you to think he was a liability, or try to force medical care on him when he just wants to hide in a blanket fort. He hopes you don’t try to sic that med droid on him. You would be really upset if he stabbed it. You treat that thing like a pet.

Now Tech and Crosshair are looking at him too, recognition in their gazes. “He’s overstimulated, sir,” Tech answers, a bit hesitant.

“Hunter, go lay down. Next time this happens you tell me,” you state in your general voice, startling the clones around you. Off field you tend to be very laid back. His anxiety grows heavier in his chest. “Yes sir,” he answers weakly, gray eyes much dimmer than usual, trudging towards his cabin.

“Boys, help your brother.” You order. Crosshair is the one who stands to follow Hunter, the others watching in silence. It makes sense only one goes (specifically the quietest) not wanting to overwhelm the sergeant anymore.

Hunter faintly recognizes your sweet-but-not-too-strong scent as you enter the room moments later, your steps practically silent in the way only jedi walk. Crosshair stops mid tuck in to shoot you a protective glare. Hunter silently begs his younger brother not to start shit. He's in too much pain to scold him and you’re too kind.

“I can use the force to help,” you whisper. You’re using your calm diplomat voice that he’s come to associate with talking to Crosshair.

“How?” The sniper whispers fiercely. The response is way too aggressive to someone offering assistance. Hunter would roll his eyes if capable.

“It’s called a sleep suggestion.”

“Do it,” Hunter grumbles. His brother looks at him in shock. Without opening his eyes the sergeant tells him, “not like it can get worse.”

Honestly Hunter doesn’t know if your force stuff is going to work but he does know you’re stubborn. You’re not going to leave him alone without at least trying to help. You seem pretty relaxed when you use the force so maybe it won’t be too bad.

You step closer, shoulders brushing Crosshair’s as you perch on the side of his bunk. “Can I touch you for a moment?”

He appreciates you asking. He knows how strong your powers are. You could easily do whatever you want without his consent. The thought makes him shiver but he pushes it down, inhales your familiar scent, and hum’s a weak “yes sir.” He trusts you.

Nimble fingers remove his bandana, taking pressure off of his pounding temples. Your palm lightly rests on the top of his hair. You’re not initiating any skin to skin contact yet much to his relief. Suddenly the overwhelming pain begins to fade.

He lets out a soft sigh, young features smoothing out a bit. Your thumb runs along his sweaty hairline and he finds himself enjoying the touch. You’re so much stronger than the Kaminoans, yet so much gentler.

A numbing sensation spreads through his body like oozing syrup. His surroundings are muted, limbs heavy, and mind comfortably fuzzy. It’s almost like being sedated but there’s no fear he usually associates with medical practices. It feels more like curling up with his brothers after a long day of training.

“It’s alright, sarge. You’re safe. You can rest now,” you whisper. He believes you. His eyelids become heavier as you gently scratch his scalp. Kriff, why does that feel so nice? “Good job, Hunter. You’re doing so well. When you wake up the pain will be gone.”

The gentle praise is what does him in. His tense body sags into the mattress as his breathing evens out.

When Hunter wakes up, it’s slow and thick. He knows he’s been resting for a while. He enjoys the warm and content feeling of his bunk for a few moments before slowly pulling back his blanket.

He hears Tech’s normally level voice tight with anger. And Wrecker laughing. Not a good combination. He ambles into the common area where you and Tech are clicking away on two controllers, a racing simulation projected onto the wall.

“These physics are highly inaccurate!” His brother complains.

“You’re only saying that cause you’re losing,” you tease.

Crosshair, who’s pretending to be bored, smirks at your comment. Great. Another instigator. A part of him fears the day you grow close to Crosshair.

“Hey, Hunter. Feeling better?” You ask, eyes not leaving the game. Tech’s head snaps to his older brother, not realizing he entered the room. He looks back just in time to see his racer get hit by a shell. “E chu ta!”

Hunter ignores the unfamiliar curse, more focused on recalling the moments after you entered his quarters. Everything’s a bit fuzzy. “Better,” he admits, sending a suspicious look to your AZI unit. “Did you drug me?”

“No, just the force. You consented to a sleep suggestion.” You reassure him with an amused smile. “I meditate twice a day, you’re welcome to join me. It helps me when I’m overwhelmed.”

“What time?” He asks without hesitation.

The next morning Hunter nervously approaches your cabin. Your usually shut door is cracked open, inviting him inside. What if you were just being nice when you offered? He doesn’t want to bother you. He’s pretty sure meditation is really important to jedi.

“Hello Hunter,” your voice greets from inside. Osik. There’s no going back now. He enters the room, instantly hit with a rich but not overwhelming floral scent. He’s greeted by you doing gentle stretches in an baggy tunic and leggings. He tries to subtly observe your cabin.

It’s not much bigger than his shared room with Crosshair although you do have a personal refresher. A single bed with a plush bantha. A desk with a datapad and a few plants. A trunk with a burning cup on top (must be a nat-born thing.) Your med droid sits in the corner with the power droid you scavenged with Wrecker. “Can you believe someone threw him out?” You had asked. You were offended when Hunter said “yes.”

You clamber onto the bed and pat the spot in front of you expectedly. This feels much more intimate than your first meeting. Hunter gingerly sits across from you, copying the way your legs are crossed.

“Does the scent bother you?”

Hunter is caught off guard. Only his batchmates have ever cared about his comfort and even they forget sometimes. “No s- blossom,” he corrects, recalling the nickname Wrecker has given you. You smile kindly.

“Good. Certain scents are scientifically proven to reduce stress.”

That sounds familiar for some reason. “Tech was telling me about that. Aromatherapy, right?”

“Yeah, I sent him a few articles about it.”

Hunter’s heart squeezes with affection. Not many people appreciate Tech’s desire to learn but you’ve had no problem bonding with him. You bring your hands together, “now, let’s begin. Shall we?”

He nods as you began a calm explanation. “We're going to start with a classic mindful meditation, the goal is to be present and control your reactions.”

“Close your eyes and focus on your breaths. You can use your senses to ground you. Like visualizing a happy place, holding a comforting object, smelling a calming scent, or feeling your heartbeat. If your thoughts wander don’t get upset, gently bring them back to breathing. Let your feelings pass without judgment. Your emotions are natural but you can’t let them control you.”

Hunter is reassured by your words. This isn’t like a test back on Kamino where he’ll be punished for any mistakes. There is no failure. He loses himself in the repetitive counting, becoming almost tired as he goes on

Suddenly the bed under him shifts, pulling his mind back to his surroundings. His eyes, feeling oddly heavy, blink open to find you… floating? Your eyes shut, face peaceful, a plush bantha in your lap, your fingers twisted in it’s soft brown fur.

You appear asleep in mid air and it’s oddly cute if it wasn't so weird. What if you fall and hurt yourself though? He should probably stay to make sure nothing startles you. Hunter takes a deep breath, inhaling your sweet scent mixed with the potted plants and burning wax, and begins counting his breaths again. He might have to join all your meditations from now on.

[ladyzirkonia]

Why Bo-Katan finally deserves all our forgiveness. (Spoilers for Mando S3E2)

And she's my Queen, I'll gonna defend her til I die. (And I need to get rid of all my thoughts and emotions)

Please leave me your thoughts in the comments. :)

That what depression look like. She doesn't want to see or hear anything anymore. She appears angry as she suspects Din is returning. She doesn't want to deal with this anymore. Repression and anger, she wants to push him off one last time, says she wants to get rid of him, until she spots Grogu. #depression throne

And now tell me she doesn't care about Din. She's really worried, no one looks like this when they don't care. This was clearly a mask to protect herself. She doesn't hesitate for a second to go and rescue Din. #tell her face she doen't care

Kind of excited but also sad and nostalgic to see her home. She never stopped caring for Mandalore, it was always her one and only dedication. And now she has a task to complete again.

Talking/bonding with Grogu. She finds it difficult to show feelings even to Grogu. And yet she shares her thoughts with him without hesitation. But you can tell her insecurity.

The last picture is what I call the ''Can you do that?'' mum look. Even though he's ''just'' a kid, she seems to trust his abilities.

Bonding time with Grogu continues. She's proud and sad telling him about Mandalore and herself. When Grogu is visibly scared, she tries to encourage him to find his dad. (Grogu purring like a cat is so cut) She continues to talk to Grogu to calm him down, telling him about her experiences with the Jedi, where she fought alongside them as friends, not enemies. Contrary to what has been heard from the Armorer, that the Jedi are enemies of the Mandalorians and even Grogu was seen as a child of the enemy.

She doesn't hesitate to put herself in front of him and protect him whenever necessary. Unlike Din, the Alamites are not a problem for them. #fighting like the queen she is

Of course it's clear that Grogu has already seen Mandalorians, the statement ''Your dad isn't the only Mandalorian'' is probably more of a tip, she can fight and protect him at least as well as his dad.

Just look at her, do i have to say anything else? Queen got her saber back like she was born to wield it. In contrast to Din, she doesn't seem to have any problems with it, it doesn't seem to be as heavy for her as for Din. She is one with the blade and uses it without hesitations.

''Din are you ok?'' I'm repeating myself. Like she didn't care at all.

''Din I can't hear you.'' Loved to hear her voice got so soft and worried.

She's just killing that thing with ease, like not a problem for me sir.

''I saved your life.'' That smirk and confidence. I think Grogu starts to like her or he's just hungry.

''He's quite the navigator.'' She knows what to say to get his dad feelings.

Still the bitterness in her voice as she reminds herself she ruled here not long ago and now it's all destroyed.

She's worried, she wanna get Din back on her ship. Her look just hilarious as he tells her he's not gonna come with her. Like what are you kidding me? You just nearly got killed without me.

Din still wants to go to the Mines of Mandalore and Bo-Katan just got her... what the fuck are you talking about, are you mad face.

''I actually think it's adorable...'' She can't really take him seriously that he's still holding on to his beliefs after everything that happened. And yet she doesn't leave him alone, she doesn't hesitate for a second to offer him her help even though he doesn't even ask. But just sassy as always like you're never gonna make it without me, you NEED me and she's damn right.

Sad face. But it's not the worst that she failed, that Mandalore got destroyed. The worst thing they bothered about is that the few who are left of their kind are fighting each other instead of fighting each other, the disunity and the hatred between the factions that are left. She wishes for her people to be reunited, even if it means burying her claim.

Bo-Katan and Din bonding time! Her telling him about her childhood, again kind of bittersweet, the way she was treated as a princess, the whole show and pomp, which is clearly not her style. I'm amazed that she opens up like that and I can't get enough of it.

When she says she doesn't embarrassed her father in front of everyone, does she mean someone else did it? I wonder why she says it like that. And I was hoping for some Satine content, which unfortunately didn't come.

The way Din just stands there and looks at her, I wonder what he's thinking, if he's looking for words to comfort her. If he just realizes how wrong he was, what he thought of her and what the Armorer said about Bo-Katan.

And he said with all his respect ''This is the way!'' After she told her dad died for Mandalore. I cannot describe my or even her feelings about that.

Genuinely shocked somehow, he caught her off guard with that. That's Bo-Katan without her mask. Like this phrase that bothered her all the time and now touched her heart.

And the her ''What are you looking at?'' after Grogu caught her off guard like... aww my daddy is a nice man right? She puts back her sassy bitch really quick. That's just so hilarious and I really loved that.

Bo just having so much fun giving Din a tour in the ruins of the Living Waters. She's really thawing and seems to have fun teasing Din about taking all those old stories and legends seriously like a little kid.

Do I have to mention again that she doesn't really care about anything and keeps asking if everything is okay with Din. Only that she is one of the few who really calls him Din and not just Mando. The way she first exchanges amused looks with Grogu until Din says his oath and steps into the water. Then her facial expression changes and I would like to know what she is thinking, but the sight may bring back memories in her or it may just touch her.

Bo-Katan is a though woman and you rarely see all of her feelings shine through, but this happened multiple times in this episode and it touched my heart.

Not to mention that she jumped after Din to the rescue once again without any hesitation. Or the complete overwhelm when she sees the Mythosaur. I can't wait to follow her further development with Din and Grogu. I think this is one of the best character developments since Ahsoka that we are getting.

In Filoni we trust. Thank you!

[darksaiyangoku]

RWBY: Grim Tales

Vampire's Fangs

Note: Oscar is 21

Oscar walked through the halls of one of Vale City's seediest establishments; The Vampire Lounge. The walls were a charcoal grey, with several cracks all over them, the windows were arched with red stained glass and there were ghoulish paintings depicting vampires feasting on humans throughout Remnant's history. What really made his skin crawl, however, were the bats roaming the ceiling and gnashing their teeth. Oscar placed his hand into his pocket and pulled out a butterfly knife. The handle was a stark white and bore an emblem of a bird with a flamed tailfeather. Soon, Oscar had reached the end of the hallway and saw a large, double door. This was it, the bedroom of the Queen.

Oscar: *knocks the door*

???: Who is it?

Oscar: I'm here to see the Queen. Let me in.

The door opened and Sage Ayana peered out wearing nothing but loose trousers.

Sage: *groans* Oh great. It's you.

Oscar: Hmph. Hello Sage. I'm sorry to bother you, but-

Sage: Spare me the bullcrap, huntsman. Me and milady are busy here. So either turn around *fangs protact* or I rip out your throat!

Oscar: *chuckles* You know you can'f touch me. Your Queen won't allow it.

Sage: *grabs Oscar's shirt* You little-

???: Put. Him. Down.

Sage and turned their attention to a beautiful blonde woman wearing nothing but a silky, golden yellow robe. It was the Vampire Queen, Yang Xiao Long.

Sage: *growls* Yes, Milady. *releases him*

Oscar: Thank you, sir. *looks at Yang* Can I speak with you, please? Alone?

Yang: *smirks* You're always welcome in my chambers. Sage, please leave us for the moment.

Sage: Very well. *gathers his clothes and leavss*

Oscar: There's something I'm investigating and I believe it leads back to your club. Would you help me?

Yang: First thing's first. *bares fangs* If you want info, you know the price.

Oscar: Oh... yeah. That. *sighs* Let's just get this over with.

Oscar unbuttoned his shirt slightly and pulled the collar down to expose his neck. Yang licked her lips voraciously and leaned into him, kissing his neck. The scent of fresh peaches caught Oscar's nose and he hummed in satisfaction. However, that soon turned into discomfort as he felt the sting of Yang's fangs.

Oscar: *closes eyes* Agggh!!! Ah, damn!

Yang: Mmmmmm~ *releases Oscar* Still as delicious as ever. *licks her fingers*

Oscar: *pants* Glad you... agh... think so. *clears throat* Anyway, what do you know about this? *hands Yang the knife*

Yang: Hmm? *inspects knife* This is pretty. Where did you find this?

Oscar: It was at the scene of a murder. The victim was Melanie Malachite, one of your staff members. This club has made a lot of enemies over the years. Can you think of anyone who might want you and your members dead?

Yang: *strokes finger over the blade* There was someone who arrived here a few days ago. He claimed that he had a thing for vampires and wanted to... *smirks* well, you know how it goes.

Oscar: *shakes head*

Yang: Anyway, I had a quick look at his belt and saw a knife in the holster. Hsd the exact same emblem and everything.

Oscar: Any idea what the guy what the guy looked like?

Yang: *nods* Spiky orange hair and yellow eyes. He wore a black jacket too.

Oscar: I see. *sighs* Well, it's not much to go on, but it'll have to do for now. *stands up* Looks like I've got another hunt. Thanks Yang.

Yang: W-Wait! You're not seriously going after him, are you?

Oscar: I've got no choice. If he's out there, everyone in here will be in danger and... *cups her cheek* I don't want him to hurt you.

Yang: Oh Oscar. *kisses his hand* Just promise me you'll be okay.

Oscar: *small smile* I promise.

Oscar put both his hands on her cheeks and pulled her in for a long, deep kiss. Yang wrapped her hands at the back of his neck and kissed him deeper. Neither of them wanted to let go. As the Queen of the Vampires, Yang could have any monster she wanted. But her heart belonged to a human. A human named Oscar Pine.

[pendragon-of-chaos]

If requests are open can i request NNT Arthur and a vigilante (I believe is the word not sure) s/o who helps protect the town people secretly and maybe one night they randomly bump into each other on the way home and Arthur’s starts getting suspicious on what’s going on thank you and have a nice day!

I started this as a small scenario but it ended up being a little longer than the usual ones. I also thought I wouldn't be able to write something that pleased me, but I think it ended being better than what I thought. Hope you like it!

Small scenario: Arthur Pendragon with a fem!secret vigilante S/O:

"Have you heard the rumours about that one vigilante??? Who do you think they are? I wish I could talk to them some day, they seem soooo cool! Maybe I should be a vigilante too... Well, I am already a knight, but having a secret identity sounds fun too! What do you think??"

It was a sunny morning. Arthur and Y/N were enjoying a break eating some sweets, sitting on a table while talking about the latest news.

"I've heard about it. Seems like they are already quite popular within Camelot, aren't they?"

"Indeed! Specially within the knights. I've heard they are placing bets on who is the one behind that mask"

"Really? And who do they think is the responsible of all this?"

"There are different opinions, no one seems to agree with just one, so I can't really speak for them." Arthur shrugged his shoulders while taking one of the freshly baked buns on the table in front of him. "As for me, I don't agree with them either. I don't know, but my instinct says that the responsible isn't one of the knights... It's just a feeling". He took a bite and smiled at (Y/N) "If you ever have any clue you must tell me, ok?"

"Of course, I'll do my best to help you discover the secret identity of that vigilante, don't worry"

----

"His instincts sure are good" - (Y/N) sighed deeply, looking at the dark streets from the top of a poorly illuminated roof, making sure no one could see her - "I'm careful enough to not leave behind any sort of information that could uncover me and he still reaches that conclusion; guess I'll need to be even more cautious just in case..."

She looked back to the streets for a couple minutes, until a suspicious acting shadow figure entered an alley in between some houses. It emerged from time to time, looking to both sides of the street, and hiding again; until a pair of drunk men made their way past the entrance

"What a good night huh?" - The shadow appeared behind them. It looked like a big strong man by his silhouette. Not that his strength mattered versus those two people which weren't even able to mantain their balance, even less when he pulled out of his coat a bright dagger - "Now, give me all you got in your pockets if you don't want to end up worse than you already are"

Overcome by panic, the two men leaned on each other trying to not fall down, clumsily looking for their pockets and throwing everything their hands touched in them

"Y-Yeah sir, just leave us alone damn it! We didn't do anything"

"Just make sure to shut your mouth about this. You went home with no money because you spent it all on drinking, right?" Laughing, the robber walked towards them in an intimidating way - "Get out of my sight, scumb-AGH"

He turned around quickly, hand in his nape, rubbing to ease the pain of the sudden hit which came out of nowhere. In front of him, another figure covered in black stood still

"Going for the easy targets I see. Such a shame that you wasted your time waiting for them to pass by, I've seen it all". A pair of hands appeared under the cloack, ready to take care of the criminal in front of them

He wasted no time and, knife in hand, lunged towards (Y/N), who didn't move an inch. She was ready to counter attack, until a few feet away from her he appeared, behind the criminal, in less than the blink of an eye.

"I got him!"

A familiar orange-haired boy stopped the attack by skillfully positioning his sword blade near the criminal's neck in one second, and then disarmed him in the next one, sheathing his sword and laying him on the ground

"Arthur! I can-!!!" (Y/N) shut her mouth while everything happened. If she talked more than neccesary Arthur would discover her. She was also impressed with his abilities. She had seen him training but never using his skills in a real situation. The king looked back at her, still restraining his hands behind his back

"We'll take him to the castle's dungeons for the night and tomorrow morning the knights will take care of him. I'll gladly accept yor help with this task"

(Y/N) nodded in afirmation, and with a simple hand movement a pair of handcuffs appeared on the criminal's wrists.

"Much better!" - Smiling, Arthur got up from him, helping him to stand up - "Now let's head to the castle"

He looked back to were (Y/N) was standing, inviting her to come with him, but there was nobody to be seen there.

----

It was morning once again. (Y/N) was sitting at the table as she always does, having breakfast, when she heard the doors opening

"Hey hey, I've got something to tell you!"

Arthur took a sit next to her quickly, smiling excited to talk with her.

"Hmm? What is it Arthur?"

"I crossed paths yesterday night with the vigilante!"

"Oh really?" - (Y/N) put on her best confused face to not arouse any more suspicions - "How did you even manage to find them? What did exactly happen?"

"I went outside the kingdom yesterday, searching for some materials that Merlin asked me to find. It was more difficult than what I thought so I returned to Camelot late at night. While I was walking down the street I saw how a man tried to rob other two, and then the vigilante appeared to help them. But as a King I can't stand idly by when something like this happens, that's why I went to help them too! It was pretty easy, and I hoped I could talk to them after having the situation controlled, but they disappeared when I wasn't looking"

"Wow... I'm happy for you, but it sounds like in the end you didn't get to know who was behind the mask"

"I guess so, but at least now I have new clues. Listen, I think that the secret vigilante must be near our age judging by its appearance and movements, and they also know how to use magic. That reduces the number of potential people by a lot... Oh! And by their voice I think it might be a woman? But everything happened so fast, I'm not even sure. If I had a few more minutes I'm sure I could have gotten more information"

"Just a few seconds and he got all of that from me" (Y/N) thought to herself - "That's a lot considering you said everything happened fast"

"Right..." - Arthur looked directly at (Y/N) for a few seconds - "one more thing, didn't Merlin show you some time ago those magical spheres that makes you disappear if you use them?"

"...Are you insinuating that I am the vigilante?"

"Just a possibility, my instinct tells me you might know more than you tell me"

[vibratingskull]

"Hi can you please have Eli Vanto female x reader but it be a nsfw. Been obsessed about Eli thanks 😭🫣" - anon

tags : fingering, unprotected p in v

You sigh in contentment.

Eli’s hands feel so good on your skin, he expertly unknot any bundle of nerves he can find in your shoulders and back. You sigh again.

“You have the hands of a fairy.” You say in a breath.

“Thank you.” He chuckles.

You feel him press on a precise point in your left shoulder blade. You moan, that’s the spot, right there…

“Ah yes… This feels so good…” You let out.

You’re so relaxed you could fall asleep right there and there. His hands slide across your skin, caressing your shoulders and flank with delicacy. 

What pleasure.

At one point, he becomes more adventurous and you feel him passing his fingers under your bra’s band and sliding his hands under your body to grasp your breast. You gasp at the sensation of his warm hands against your tits.

You turn towards him with a sly smile.

“How dare, Sir?”

“I could not resist, madam.”

He leans towards you to kiss your lips, you invite him gleefully while he kneads your breast. You hold his chin with between two fingers, guiding his face, kissing those pretty plump lips. You bite down his lower lips with a low growl. You finish turning on your side to properly hug him, he embraces you with all his might, kissing you with vigor, robbing you of your air. You part, both panting, the eyes heavy with desire, you hook your braces and let them slide across your shoulders, revealing him your bare breast.

“Eat them, and don’t leave a crumb.” You coo, pulling him closer.

He chuckles, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collar bone and finally your breast. He laps your buds like a thirsty man, taking them in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the tender flesh. You throw your head backward, it’s been so long since you felt your fiance’s touch on your burning body, finally you do not have to quench your thirst alone anymore. He pinches your second tit and you yelp in pain and pleasure. His hands snake their way from your shoulder to your waist, slipping under the fabric of your bikini and grabbing your butt. 

You take a fistful of his hair and yank his head backward, he groans but let you do, you lick the tip of his nose, giggling.

“Make me scream like our first times, dear.”

“Anything for you, love.” He answers with his accent that sounds like a chant to you.

He hooks your panties and slides them on your leg to gain access to your core. He scoops your sex, trailing it down with a single finger. It makes your whole body shudder. He gently pushes his finger inside, earning a gasp on your part. He quickly finds your sweet spot and grazes it, making your toes curl.

“Hmmmmmm. You’re already wet.” He hums with satisfaction.

“Always for you, Eli.” You pant.

He kisses you again, muffling all your moans. He inserts a second finger to stretch you properly. You purr in his mouth, you can feel your muscles tightening and your waters dripping on his hand and your thighs. You feel waves roaring coming for you, galoping like furious horses. It comes speeding towards you and you whine and groan obscenely, exacerbating your desire and his. He speeds up his motion at your chants, and the waves crashes upon you, blinding you. He releases your mouth at this moment to hear you. 

And you did not disappoint.

Screaming his name, head thrown back backward, exposing your sensible neck and your sweet spot, he can’t resist kissing it and nibbling it. You lay your bust on the mattress, catching your breath. He takes out your panties entirely and places himself between your legs. You spread them further with a mewl. He opens his pants and takes out his erection, giving it a few strokes. You growls. You would like to kiss it and take it in your mouth, it will be for another time. He aligns himself with you and gently pushes inside, you feel yourself stretch so deliciously and the sensation of being full electrifies you. He grasps your waist and starts his motion forward and backward, quickly finding a rapid pace of unmerciful hips thrusts. You whine and moan and groan. You dig your nails in the skin of his back, praying to the maker that your release comes quickly. 

Suddenly he slides out of you, flips you over and reenter brutally. You gasp. He forces your ass up in the air and slaps it with a low chuckle. Your toes curl and you bite down the pillow so hard you could break your teeth. He grabs and kneads your ass and waist, scratching your lower back. You can't refrain from moaning, the sound of the flesh clapping is so obscene and indecent and so exciting. 

“Don’t stop… I’m so close. Keep going!”

The waves roar again, spreading through your veins like a tantalizing poison, digging your nails in the fabric and almost tearing it apart with your teeth.

Then

It comes crashing down upon you.

Furiously, gloriously.

You cry his name.

“Eli!”

All your body is shaken before coming to a halt, freezed. All your muscles contract, your inner walls tighten around his length, pushing him over the edge. His thrusts become erratic and sloppy until he stops completely and finishes inside of you. Your cunt milks him dry as you both slowly come down, he collapses on top of you with a huff. It makes you laugh. You extend your hand and caress his hair, you kiss his cheek as he takes back his breath.

“Thank you, my love.” You say in one breath.

He takes your hand and kisses the back of it.

“It was really good.” He pants.

“Yes…”

He slides out of you and rolls on the side on his back. You hug him.

“Where do you think you’re going, mister?”

He caresses your hair and embraces you.

“Nowhere far, my love. Do not worry.”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

[levi501ackerman]

Steel Heart Chapter 3:

The Crested Swords

Hange x Reader Chapter Index Masterlist AO3

Megan's Note: Happy 4th of July to USA! if you're outside the US. HAPPY 100 YEARS OF CAESAR SALAD!!!! Just know in general I really hate editing. So I'll hastily edit then post. Then edit after posting hoping no one caught that. Have patience with me Reminder its a slow burn Posted: 7/4/24

Word Count: 3.3k

“Hey, brat . . .” The man with the jet-black hair skeptically started, “Who did you steal that sword from?” You trembled as the man stepped forward, not releasing you from his gaze. His eyes became sharper, and you pressed against the door. Then you recalled the sword you were holding. You raised it with both hands firm on the handle, pointing directly at the man; he was practically on the tip of the other end. 

“Please . . . I mean no harm—I’ll leave and none of this happened!” 

“I bet you don’t even realize the value of your sword . . .” You swung the sword and then the man pulled out his sword and CRASHED it against Sir Zacharius’ with a force that it flung out of your grasp. You didn’t even notice he had a sword. Then the man advanced and forced the blade an inch for your neck. He was quick. You screamed, panicked at the thought that this was how you were going to die. “Grab his sword.” Tears quickly spilled out of your eyes, leaving the cottage caused you to go toward your death. If you were to escape, you vowed never to disobey Sir Zacharius again. The short man glared at you, looking pissed. 

“Captain Levi, It’s not his.” The almost bald man holding Sir Zacharius’ sword said, analyzing it. You felt off-balanced like you were going to faint. The black-haired man named Captain Levi assertively held his sword to your neck, yet his expression softened and the inner corner of his eyebrows raised slightly. “This isn’t Flagon’s sword. The initials on this one are M Z.” Captain Levi didn’t blink he stared at your tearing face and your tensed body inches from his blade. 

“M Z,  huh?” He eyed you down and then returned his eyes to yours. “I want answers, girl. I know your scrawny ass doesn’t know how to fight, let alone hold a sword correctly, so tell me . . . how’d you get this sword?” Sir Zacharius’ demands didn’t leave your mind. You pondered on staying silent, trusting no one, or telling the elaborate story Sir Zacharius discussed with you. The tale of siblings escaping Shiganshina, straying away from the refugee crowd, stumbling upon the armor, taking it, your ‘brother’ landing in the trap and needing help. You hoped you didn’t make the wrong choice. 

“We found it, my brother and I . . .” He didn’t show any indication of interest in your story. Levi remained silent, his piercing gaze giving you chills. You glanced at the two men behind him, noticing the practically bald one still holding Sir Zacharius’ sword. “My brother and I were in Shiganshina the night it was attacked . . . when we got to the inner gate we left the refugee crowd . . . and then went into the forest . . . there was a dead knight on the ground my brother took his armor . . . because we were cold . . . but then he stepped on an animal trap and I stitched it up, but it’s been a few weeks and . . . we think it’s infected. He’s sick . . . I only came here to look for medicine, maybe some food . . .” 

“You’re lying.” Captain Levi firmly stated. He lowered his sword slowly, “Not fully. I know you weaved a bit of the truth. But you happen to go into the forest then . . . ‘stumble upon a dead knight’? Quite the story . . .” You looked down to notice you were relentlessly fidgeting with your fingers. Levi glanced at your fingers, too. You then clamped them together in front of you. “Did your big brother tell you that story?” Your mouth went dry, Levi picked up on your lie, and you scrambled to get another story, but your brain was fogged. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Where were you and your big brother heading?” A thought surfaced and you figured being vague was not a poor choice. 

“I don’t know . . . I think we were heading to a refugee camp, but my brother forced me to go into the forest with him.”

“A forest quite far from the inner gate? Miles upon miles east from Shiganshina’s gate . . .” You swallowed, you felt as if the man could figure out every lie, every hole in your story. “What’s . . . your name?” You sucked in a breath, not expecting Levi to ask you that question. You glanced again at Sir Zacharius’ sword, still being held by the nearly bald man. Flustered: to be honest, or to tell another lie which Captain Levi might just knew you were lying anyway. You wondered if telling your real name would hurt you, causing—you remembered Sir Zacharius telling you how the Marleyan Cult was looking for you. It's been two weeks . . . Sir Zacharius suggested they will eventually find you . . . Your name will remain confidential. 

“Carla.”

“You’re lying.” 

“Yes, my brother told me not to reveal my identity to strangers. My name is not important. I’m sorry for bothering you, but as you can tell, I mean no harm if I could have my sword back . . . I’ll forget this happened.”

“The sword that you supposedly stole?”

“We stole it for protection!”

“You’re lying. Tell me your name.”

“My name’s not—”

“It is if you are who I think you are . . .” You stared at his challenged eyes, you felt like a caged animal. 

“I’m no one special—”

“You’ll get some antibiotics for your brother's infection . . . if you take me to him.” You weighed the offer in your head, but Sir Zacharius told you to trust no one. Your brain was empty, defeated, and out of ideas to lead you out. A small whimper burst out of you when Captain Levi suddenly moved toward the other two men. They looked confused as well. Captain Levi grasped Sir Zacharius’ sword by the blade and then offered the crested handle to you. When you reached for it Levi pulled it away. “You’re going to learn something . . . notice the decorative crests among the handle?” You always noticed the intricate ornate pattern creating the crest and how it mades the sword look pretty. “It's not just some pattern, this sword is given to members of the Royal King’s Guard . . . I think you’re lying that your brother took this sword off the body of a dead knight. Say you’re telling the truth . . . the man who this sword belongs to is dead and your brother has an infection, lying in the last cottage we haven’t searched yet or . . . you’re with the man this sword belongs to who has an infection, lying in the last cottage we haven’t searched yet. You won’t tell me your name . . . I suspect I know why . . . so take me to your brother.” 

The thought of Captain Levi—who agilely took Sir Zacharius’ sword swiftly from your grasp—killing Sir Zacharius and then you, crossed your mind. Though he might kill you quickly and not have to go through a slow death . . . Then your mind suddenly fed you a positive thought: Captain Levi giving you antibiotics. Then Sir Zacharius’ knee heels and he’s able to walk again. 

“What kind of antibiotics? A cream would be good, but I think we’ll need pills.”

“Both. I’ll give you both if you take me to your brother.” 

“Fine . . . Just you, those two don’t come with.”

“You’re not really in a position of negotiation . . . girl. But, I guess Jean and Connie could go get the antibiotics.”

“You promise you’ll give me antibiotics if I take you to my brother?” Captain Levi annoyingly sighed.

“I dedicate my heart.” He put a fist over his heart and your eyebrows furrowed. He saluted like Sir Zacahrius’ and said something you heard once before from the bald guy in Shiganshina. Knight Commander Dot Pyxis said ‘Dedicate Your Heart’ after Sir Zacharius saluted him at the innergate. Then he took you through the tunnel . . . that lead out miles away from the innergate. Was that planned? But Sir Zacharius mentioned they didn’t have a full plan intact. Especially since the Marleyan Cult attacked months before your twenty-fifth birthday, which Sir Zacharius told you he didn’t expect . . . Captain Levi and the men were not wearing armor, but they knew about your sword. Did they know because of the price or did they know because they’re in the know? Levi’s eyebrow raised slightly when he saw your expression. “Heard that phrase before?” 

Sir Zacharius said, 'trust no one.’ But he also said, ‘no one we do not know.’ What if Captain Levi wasn’t a scavenger? But what if he knew Sir Zacharius? Trust no one. 

“Never heard that before in my life. I’ll take you to my brother. Only because if he dies, I won’t have anyone.” Levi handed you Sir Zacharius’ sword. He didn’t taunt you this time and you firmly gripped it. Levi looked over at the men who stared at you in awe. 

“Go back to camp and get the antibiotics, ride back with my horse, and . . . an extra one.”

“Yes, sir!” “Yes, sir!” The said firmly.

“I should be more polite . . . Ladies first.” Captain Levi motioned to the door. You pushed your back off the door, glanced at the short man once more, then opened the door. The bright light nearly blinded you and caused your vision to turn white. You felt a pressure in your head, then your arm hitting the floor, followed by your shoulder and side. When the pressure subsided in your head, your vision revealed to you being on the floor, the daylight casting itself into the cottage. Beside you, Levi was kneeling and offering a hand. You ignored him, digging the sword into the wood flooring and leveraging your weight like you saw Sir Zacharius do before. Trust no one. When you walked through the threshold, you heard Levi’s voice call to his men, “Bring food as well.”  

You started walking down the hill, not waiting for Levi’s presence. You gripped the sword, building confidence in your decision. If Captain Levi tries anything to Sir Zacharius, you’d do your best to kill him. Do anything to kill him. Go for the neck, kick him in the balls. 

Sir Zacharius is your only chance of surviving.        

Your left foot slipped from under you, then rolled on a rock, and you fell backward. You yelped when a hand gripped your upper arm, firm and causing your weight to shift to your core, balancing again. Your eyes fixated on Levi’s steel grey eyes, who released your arm. A wave of embarrassment washed over you and you felt heavy.  

You felt Levi’s stare at you, which fueled frustration. This small man is so annoying. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? This was a mistake . . . he’s getting too much information. You and Sir Zacharius were vulnerable, but if he doesn’t get antibiotics, he’ll die. What if the two men weren’t getting antibiotics but telling the rest of the cult where you were going and what you were doing with their captain? Leaving the cottage was a huge mistake. But yet, they were going to search through it anyway, like they said. Your eyes became glossy. Blinking back tears, you refused to cry. 

You both reached the bottom of the hill, stopping in your tracks, trying to catch your breath. Levi kept walking ahead toward the cottage. Your heart raced faster while jogging to Levi, not wanting him to be alone with Sir Zacharius. You ran past him, standing before the door, blocking him before entering.  

“What now, brat?” Your face scrunched at the name-calling. It was rude, and you felt like you didn’t deserve it. You swallowed the urge to yell at him, telling him not to call you that anymore. 

“I want your sword before we go inside. If you mean no harm, then let me have it. Because I’ll only use my sword—”

“Your brother’s sword.”

“Just take a peak then you’ll know we mean no harm.” He stared expressionless. Then he scanned your body once again. To your surprise, he slowly drew his sword from his hip. His eyes glanced at your strong stance blocking the door, then he flipped the sword, holding it by the blade and offering the handle. You couldn’t believe he was actually handing over his sword. You took his sword and then your face contorted. The crested handle looked identical to Sir Zacharius’. “My jewels are green.” Levi brushed past you, opening the door. Thoughts disappeared as you stared at both of the ornate handles. With a closer look, there were a few tiny jewels embedded in parts of the handle. Sir Zacharius' had tiny red jewels and Captain Levi’s sword had identical jewel placement but they were green. On his blade near the handle the initials: LA were carved. The questionable man was alone with Sir Zacharius. While holding both swords, you dashed in awkwardly to Levi standing in the bedroom.

“You’re an ugly sight.” He said and you turned to Sir Zacharius, whose eyes were partly open. Then he raised his middle finger at Levi.

“Kuchel would still want to fuck me.” Levi approached his bandaged knee, swollen and red.  

“Kuchel will fuck anyone with enough money. Even ugly soon-to-be-one-legged bastards like you.”

“Sir Zacharius! Do you know this man?” You stepped closer, unsure of what to do.

“Knight-Captain Levi Ackerman of the Royal King’s Guard, humanity’s strongest knight.” You gasped at the realization, shying away, embarrassed of how you acted in the other cottage. 

“Knight-Captain is a real title, but it sounds silly. Call me captain.” He said to you and you didn’t want him to look at your face. “Your sister here came into a cottage I was in and told me a lame story, how her big brother has an infection and needs medicine.” Your cheeks flushed not wanting to look at Captain Levi or Sir Zacharius. He knows you broke his rule of not leaving the cottage. “She also swung your sword at me.” Sir Zacharius slowly turned his face toward you, which you then turned a deep red.

“You took my sword?”

“I’m sorry, I disobeyed you, Sir Zacharius!” You dropped both swords, rattling against each other and the wooden floor. You knelt beside the bed and grabbed his hand, holding it in yours. “I only wanted to find medicine or something to help you. You’re yellow—you’re sick. I can’t lose you. I wanted to find some way to take your pain away.” You began to tear up, aching at the thought of him dying a slow death from infection. 

“I told your sister to give me her name or to take me to her big brother in exchange for antibiotics. I had a feeling I might recognize an old friend, so now tell me . . . is this who I think it is.”

“It is.” Levi’s gaze softened and then got off the bed and knelt beside you. You sniffed and then wiped away your wet eyes.

“Princess Y/N,” he sincerely. You liked the way your name sounded, the way he spoke. “I hope you can forgive me—”

“Captain Levi!” You put your hands on his shoulder and he furrowed his eyebrows. “Let’s just forget about what happened in the cottage.” Levi pried your hands off his shoulder and then held your right hand with his. 

“My men and I swear to protect you and keep you safe, returning you to Mitras Castle . . .” He kissed the back of your hand, and you blushed, pulling your hand away. Levi grabbed his sword off the ground, returning it to the side of his waist while he stood back up.

“She hasn’t eaten in multiple days.” Sir Zacharius weakly said.

“Makes sense since her scrawny ass fell more than once” Levi sat on the bed next to Sir Zacharius’ knee. “Miche, there’s been some trouble . . .” He said to Sir Zacharius. “Commander Flagon is dead. His entire camp was a pool of blood and bodies. His sword is missing and no one was found alive.” Sir Zacharius exhaled and put a hand over his eyes.

“He was annoying, but fuck, this is not good.”

“I suspect the traitor is responsible . . . I went through my men. They’re clear. I’m not sure about Hange’s. I don’t think they know about the camp yet . . . They don’t know Moblit is dead. Hange must have sent Moblit to deliver a message to Flagon and he was there when it happened. Wrong place, wrong time.” 

“MOBLIT’S DEAD?!! FUCK!!!!!” Sir Zacharius then let out excessively thick coughs. 

“I don’t want to be near the freak when they find out about Moblit . . .” You stared at the fabric of Sir Zacharius’ pillow, listening to Levi. “I received another message. Due to Flagon’s squad being wiped out, the Commander of the Royal King’s Guard himself will be with us soon. He gave me new instructions . . .” He eyed you, then glanced at Sir Zacharius’ knee. 

“Are the antibiotics here yet?” You asked, hoping Captain Levi didn’t forget his end of the deal. His narrow eyes stared into your soul, and you thought you had almost seen him smile. Levi patted Sir Zacharius’ ankle, “When we return to camp, I’ll have a few men stay with you until you can ride horseback.” You gasped a little, questioning what Levi was suggesting. You rushed to Sir Zacharius’ side again, feeling the heat rise inside you. You couldn’t leave him. Being with a group of strange men isn’t what you wanted.

“I’m not leaving him!” Silence held the room. Sir Zacharius then offered one of his hands and you took it, seeking comfort. He turned as much of his torso as he could toward you and a fond smile on his sick, yellow, tired face.

“Your Highness, my part in your journey is done and now you are with Captain Levi. You can trust him as much as you trust me. You must put all your trust in him, do what he says, and don’t question him. It’s a cruel world and there will be more times where you’ll have to be brave.” You side-eyed Levi. You figured he may not be a bad choice, considering how quickly he whipped Sir Zacharius’ sword out of your hand. “Princess, you can trust anyone who says ‘Dedicate Your Heart’. It’s a phrase the higher-ups created half a decade ago during the first royale draft of the plan for your return to Mitras Castle on your quarter birthday.”

“I’ll miss you Sir Zacharius, thank you for protecting me. You’re so kind and strong—” Levi smirked knowing Sir Zacharius was enjoying all the fond words you were giving him, “—I’ll never forget you.” You laid on his chest in an attempt to hug him, he patted your back. Levi took a mental note of how you would be relearning social rules in the capital once you’re officially Queen . . . 

“Y/N, remember, go for the neck and kick them in the balls!”

You followed Levi outside the cottage, wishing Sir Zacharius was healthy enough to come. When you crossed the threshold, the sun shined on your skin. You jolted at Levi's sudden touch. He picked your hood up to cover your head. A small smile formed, but Levi didn’t return it. He looked at the two men approaching you. Four horses were on top of the hill. 

“The Princess hasn’t eaten in days. Give her the food I asked you to bring. The old Commander is in the cottage. Give him the antibiotics and food. Unfortunately, the Commander can’t ride. We’re heading back to camp. You’ll meet me in my tent later.” The two boys' eyes grew big and then scanned your presence. They immediately knelt on the ground and did their best to salute you while holding the food and medicine.

“You’re Highness!” “You’re Highness!” The boys said at the same time. 

“Uh, thank you, gentlemen.”

Levi's words stayed with you while you chewed on chicken and warm rice. Sir Zacharius was a Commander? It made sense, considering Levi said their swords were from the Royal King’s Guard. 

“Captain Levi?” He turned his head, acknowledging your curious tone. “I didn’t know Sir Zacharius was a commander.”

“It seems he has not told you what you need to know because of his injury.”

next chapter: Chapter 4: The Commander's Letter

Chapter Index Masterlist

[howlingday]

Jaune, Ren, & Oscar must stop their greatest threat yet: Nora on a pancake induced sugar high. Will the trio of intrepid Hunters be able to keep their teammate from causing untold destruction? Or will Nora's new-found power and speed be too much for them? Find out now!

Jaune: Hey, there's a lot of commotion going on down there.

Oscar: Is it the Grimm?

Ren: (Looking through binoculars) It is... Not! It's Nora! We should see what's going on.

Jaune: Is she alone?

Oscar: If she is, I'm sure we can handle her. Besides, if she attacks, it'll only be three vs on, right?

Jaune: Yeah, that's a fair point.

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

Ren: No problem.

Jaune: GG, EZ.

Oscar: Uh... Guys?

Nora: (Climbs out, Pink lightning crackling)

Jaune: Wait, we just took care of vanilla Nora, and now we're fighting against Charged Nora?!

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

Ren: Oh... Shit...

Jaune: Just jumping straight to fucking Sugar High Nora, huh?

Oscar: W-What are the other four fights?

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

Ren: We have the relic! Time to bring Jaune back!

Jaune: Or make you immortal.

Oscar: Pfft! Or...!

Jaune: What's the plan? Do we beat her, or back off and restore our aura?

Ren: Can you try Oscar?

Oscar: I can try! I can-

Jaune: Nope! You're dead! Fuck! What do we-

Ren: Jaune, tag me in!

Jaune: You got it!

Ren: Let's goAAAAAAAAAGH!

Jaune: (Wheezing)

Oscar: (Cackling)

Ren: I died...

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Oscar: I don't care- OW! Okay, I care. I care a whole lot! Go get her, Jaune!

Jaune: Huh, what?! OH GOD! OH FUCK! NONONO! LEAVE ME ALO- GHK!

Ren: What the fuck... You could have said, "Hey, I'm not here here."

Jaune: I'm not here! I'm never here!

Oscar: So... This is where it all ends.

Ren: Not yet! (Fires Storm Flower)

Nora: (Walks through the gunfire past Ren)

Ren: What the-?! (Swings tethered blades)

Nora: (Backflips over blades, Grabs Ren)

Oscar: ...

Jaune: Okay, THAT was the coolest shit I had ever seen!

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Jaune: Nora, what the fuck?! What the fuck are you doing?!

Nora: Nora isn't here right now, there is only Joe...

Jaune: Joe who?

Nora: Joe Momma~!

Jaune: OH, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! AGH!

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Ozpin: Let me fight her.

Jaune: Are... Are you sure?

Ren: You're not looking well, sir.

Ozpin: I can take her.

Jaune: I mean, your arm is out of it's socket.

Ozpin: I can push it back it. Let me fight.

Ren: Okay...

Jaune: This is a load of bull crap...

Ozpin: I... I... I must... fight you until... until you...

Ren: Oh my god, he's as good as dead.

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Ren: I can revive my friends!

Ren: But power, though...

Ren: I'm just kidding... kind of.

Oscar: Ren, no!

Ren: I'm tired of everyone else getting my fucking screen time!

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Jaune: I... I think she's slowing down. Gonna get some water in me.

Nora: Good idea, Jaune! (Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack!)

Ren: Nora! What are you going to do with all eight of those coffee cans?!

Nora: I'M GOING TO OPEN SOME MORE! (Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack!)

Oscar: NO, NORA, STOP!

Nora: Okay~! There's already so many fucking coffee cans! (Chugging cans)

Jaune: FUCKFUCKFUCKNOOOOOOOOO!

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Ozpin: Let me show you how it's done.

Jaune: Please, do.

Ozpin: (Crawls out of the rubble) Let me show you how- Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Let me show you how it's done.

Ren: When is the part where he shows us?

Ozpin: (Climbing out of the crater) Let me show you how it'd done.

Ren: Did he show us yet, or...?

Jaune: I think he's still trying.

Ozpin: Let me show how it's done- I didn't mean to do that! Get me out! Get me out!

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Jaune: (Grabs Nora) Big Dunk!

Nora: (Slammed into ground, Aura shatters)

Jaune: BIG! FUCKING! DUNK!

Ren: WE DID IT!

Oscar: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Jaune: Huh? (Looks at his scroll) We- Ha ha... We got 50,000 lien. (Looks around, Chuckle) Considering Nora caused 5 million lien in property damage, this is, technically, fucking worthless.

Ozpin: Remember, this is called hard work.

Ren: ...

Jaune: ...I fucking hate you.

[seeking-elsewhither]

So, uh, turns out I am taking part in the Chesterton Challenge (wanted to see if I could do it at all, and so far so good). Once again, I started something, but wasn't able to finish it.

So here's a little snippet of a scene I've already written a while ago from Project Throne that works for today's challenge: Mystery. I've even bothered to edit it. Tagging @hiddenvioletsgrow, @igotthisaccountunderduress and @inklings-challenge.

Yet again, ignore how probable these events are.

Thank you for taking the time to read it!

A Shade of the Past

The figure is cloaked, his hood so drawn that his face is swallowed in shadows. The Queen gives the Steward a questioning frown, but a slight tilt of his head implies he is as uncertain as she about this stranger.

“You come without warning or reason, sir.” addresses the Queen. The figure bows in a grand, sweeping gesture, his cloak billowing about him.

“For that, I beg a thousand and one pardons, Your Majesty.” comes his voice from the darkness of his hood, clear and melodic like a rippling freshet. “But my case is one that demands urgency and secrecy. Should my ambition be spread abroad, I shall find myself in grave peril.”

“And what, pray tell, might your ambition be?” He straightens and tilts his head.

“That answer is for Your Majesty alone to hear.” With a mere glance from the Queen, the Steward stands to give her command.

“Leave us, all of you.” The servants and sentries file out of the room, but the figure turns to the Steward.

“I will presume you understood when I said I wished for a private audience with the Queen. Your presence, sir, is included in the general assembly.”

An equally biting remark the Steward might have parried had Her Majesty not raised her palm. “Even so, you must consider him an exception, for I trust him with my very life. What you wish to speak to me you must speak in his presence, or not at all. He is a man of discretion, and I will vouch for him.”

A silence echoes across the chamber.

“I hold you to your word, Your Majesty.” Such ice in the stranger’s voice riles the Steward.

“Let me remind you, sir, that you have come here with a purpose. You think your threats preserve you, but they are only made to your own hurt. I advise you not to deviate from your business, or you might find your situation more perilous than before.”

The stranger chuckles, amused. “But of course, sir. I thank you for your wisdom. I seem to have forgotten myself there."

"And now you have been reminded." There is a hint of impatience and virtue laced into the Queen's words. "State your purpose plainly, or forever hold your tongue."

Once more, the stranger bows, though it is coy and sardonic in its execution. "As it pleases Your Majesty. However, I beg you, suffer me a single question first, that I might know you might be trusted. It is for my own being that I ask this."

"Ask it."

"It is this and only this:" he says with all the sharpness of a young blade, "Tell me what the word ‘Laucalina’ means to you.”