#forest hunter knight

[knightscanfeeltoo]

I wonder if there are any More "Nameless NPCs" in Dark Souls that may or may not have Names like Oscar of Astora...

(I learned about Amerix/Americus from a Tumblr Post btw...)

[omelevateart]

The Episode 1 Extras! That wraps it up for the character sheets. Most of these characters are based on the Forest Hunters’ in-game models, with the one exception being the Undead Assassin who snuck in there. Although, fun fact! One of the Forest Hunters does wear the outfit. I wonder what their story is...?

[val-of-the-north]

I have discovered what might just be the most unheard of character in the entire Dark Souls trilogy. I don't say this lightly lol.

Meet... Knight "Amerix" (騎士アメリクス), or rather Americus. And despite the name, she is a woman!

And this is not a name I pulled out of thin air, either. It was already mentioned on the Dark Souls wiki's trivia section for the Forest Hunter Knight... I checked and indeed, this name is actually used for Japanese wikis of Dark Souls, such as this one here [x]

Technically, there's two forest hunters who use this exact same base, but only one of them is named Americus, and it's the one that doesn't respawn... and she seems to specifically be the one that stands close to Pharis (who was confirmed to be the Forest Hunter by this same Japanese guide). And in fact, she also does not respawn after being defeated once!

Here's her without the helmet too, for good measure. She is cute.

[aut2imagineart]

Though it's not till next week, I wanted to create something for the Thanksgiving season like I've done in previous years. Mulling over various ideas, I settled on something inspired by my favorite video game franchise, Monster Hunter, particularly with the new Monster Hunter Wilds coming out next February. I ended up creating a hunter in Thanksgiving colors wielding a charge blade facing off against a bird wyvern that resemble a turkey. Though I'm petty satisfied with the monster and hunter designs I ended up rushing the background due to an eagerness to move on to new projects (which will come out slower due to a very busy work schedule).

Happy Early Thanksgiving!

Monster Hunter belongs to Capcom.

As always, comments and critiques are welcome.

[katyahina]

Dark Souls 1 faces references Part 3: Pharis/Evlana, Americus, Forest Hunter (Cleric), Beatrice, Dusk

Pharis/Evlana

Unfortunately, the name and relevance of this character can be easy to miss, as the game Dark Souls 1 simply labels this character as 'Forest Hunter Archer'! However, Japanese guide book confirms this IS 弓の英雄ファリス (Pharis, the heroic archer)!

( x )

+ As for questions regarding this character's pronoun or why Evlana (I just sense some of you here refused to play Dark Souls 2.....), here ( x ) is the separate short post for explanation!

Americus

This character is the knight lady amongst the Forest Hunters! And yet, again, her name is only revealed in Japanese guide:

( x )

騎士アメリクス (Knight Americus)!

Funny enough, this character appears to be literally duplicated just to make player's experience more painful! You will find TWO of this NPC in the woods, identical in absolutely everything but pose, but both do not respawn and there is a mention of only one name according to Japanese guide!

Forest Hunter (Cleric)

Character that uses Soothing Sunlight (one of Gwynevere's miracles granted to her maidens), and also went on pilgrimage according to her equipment!

Beatrice

Definitely looks nothing like her concept and even the unused child model, but I suppose keeping the originally planned colors would just plagitarize a Berserk character at that rate..

(Look at Beatrice's unused young model: ( x ))

I do think keeping the wand instead of giving her a shield would be a better idea! Like the wand could've been Miracles catalyst! Too OP, perhaps....?

Dusk

Like I said before, whereas I assumed her eyes to be just green, they are, in fact, barely green! Almost grey!

The ingame hairstyle is valid, of course, as she is the only NPC who uses it AND it still technically has her have long hair, only all tied up! But still, as far as depicting her goes, I think the really long braid feels more like an implication? Just limitations of NPC models again, really

____________________________________

Part 1: Oscar, Ricard, Solaire, Anastacia

Part 2: Reah, Petrus, Vince, Nico, Leeroy

Part 3: Pharis/Evlana, Americus, Forest Hunter (Cleric), Beatrice, Dusk (you are here)

Part 4: Shiva, Shiva's Bodyguard, Forest Hunter (Sorcerer), Forest Hunter (Thief), Forest Hunter (Bandit)

Part 5: Quelana, Jeremiah, Grana, Cut Content Character, Domhnall

Part 6: Darkmoon Knightess, Lautrec, Lautrec's Helper (Sealer), Lautrec's Helper (Warrior)

Part 7: Ingward, Kirk, Oswald, Havel, Tarkus

Part 8: Griggs, Logan, Rickert, Crystal Knight, Laurentius

Part 9: Patches, Siegmeyer, Sieglinde, Mildred, Crestfallen Knight, Crestfallen Merchant

* Shots of characters' faces datamined and provided by RayanTheMad on Twitter + rayanwasalsotaken on Discord!

* Twitter thread with the faces here: ( x )

* Data for characters Ciaran, Darkmoon Soldier (Balder) and Darkmoon Soldier (Berenike) doesn't exist and they simply copy the last face loaded, when there wasn't any loaded they use default placeholder data

[ursawood]

updated catalogue of my fromsoft freaks

[steventureau]

"Whibayganba

Whibayganba is a place of cultural significance within the local landscape of Mulubinba.

Whibayganba was an island. Its beginnings and traditions a complex cultural narrative. Stories originating from a past where ancestral beings created Country, and shaped the law and relations between all living things. Their memories are retained, etched, and spoken of in Country, a legacy that links the Dreamtime with the present.

Local lore tells of a great kangaroo concealed in the island who would thump his tail causing earthquakes.

The island was originally a closed off site, surrounded by rocks and turbulent waters. The strong gale force of the winds that batter the island enabled this place to be a suitable refuge to confine a giant kangaroo. The kangaroo remained hidden in Whibayganba.

In 1855 the top of the island was lopped off by the English, and in 1846 they had completed the construction of a breakwater that was started in 1818. The breakwater attached the island to the mainland creating open access to Whibayganba, access that had been denied for thousands of years.

The alterations are against Aboriginal principles of respecting country, maintaining balance and equilibrium and ensuring protections and conservation of sacred places."

'That's a sad story.' I thought, surely one of many very familiar ones around the country.

[faithschaffer]

The prompt list is here! This year's prompts are themed around the wielder- who uses the sword?

I hope this list proves inspirational for those who design swords exclusively and those who may want to design a character along with a sword. Also please remember you do NOT have to use my prompts, they are just here if you want to use them. Have fun! 

The list written out:

1-Witch

2-Wizard

3-Rogue

4-Dragonslayer

5-Spymaster

6-Knight errant

7-Oracle

8-Jester

9- Royal Hunt Leader

10-Healer

11-Queen

12-King

13-Royal heir

14-Royal guard

15-Enchanter

16-River spirit

17-Forest spirit

18-Bard

19-Alchemist

20-Summoner

21-Mermaid

22-Vampire

23-Vampire Hunter

24-Barbarian

25-Inquisitor

26-Artificer

27-Assassin

28-Druid

29-Paladin

30-Necromancer

[yzzart]

Tom Blyth being really fucking obsessed with actress!Reader, like constant physical contact, many kisses, maybe some moments on set? I love your writing 💖

"Oh, the lovebirds."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: another compilation between you and tom? we have!

word count: 538!

notes: thank you for requesting this, anon and i hope you know that i love you and beg you to request more ideas!

"See them over there?" — Recording and switching the camera to frontal mode, Rachel pointed to you and Tom sitting under the tree, in the forest setting, together. — "Two lovebirds in love." — Tom's arm was around your shoulder, he was saying something that was, technically, impossible to identify, but then he left a long kiss on your forehead. — "Look!"

Rachel saved that video with a triumphant, happy smile on her face in an album she had made specifically for behind the scenes and it was the thousandth video of you and Tom that she had saved. — The first and biggest fan of both of you.

It wasn't difficult, and not at all complicated, to find behind-the-scenes photos of 'The ballad of songbirds and snakes'; so soon, it wasn't hard to see photos and videos of you and Tom together on set. — So much for you posting and Rachel too.

There were videos where he put Coriolanus' peacemaker helmet on you; your hands between his rough and cut hair, commenting on the possibility of him temporarily turning blonde;; a photo they took of him and him lying on the grass. — Several moments recorded, captured and saved with lots of love.

Also, the small and peculiar fact that you left written messages or just heart symbols on paper, sometimes torn up, for each other. — Hunter thought this was cute, and she even helped Tom put one of them in your trailer.

In every interview, to repeat, in every interview, Tom always tries to be in contact with you; mainly, the physical. — It doesn't matter if your chair is a little far from his, or if you or he are on the other side of the row. — Nothing can stop that man.

The cameras record, with attention and great focus, Tom holding your hand while you answered questions from the interviewer, who was also watching, and admiring the rings that were present on your fingers; and that some were gifts from him. — If Tom had the opportunity, he would never let go of you.

He contemplated carefully; distributing affection with his fingers on your hand and your palm, at certain moments, even tickling you and, sometimes during the interviews, a brief laugh accompanied your words.

And every time it happens, that passionate smile wrapped in such a strong emotion curves on Blyth's lips.

Well, it's not just the contacts and touches between your hands that are captured by cameras and the watchful eyes of fans; Tom's arm resting on the back of your chair, your leg touching his, your head on his shoulder and once again Tom's hand resting on your knee. — You looked like a pair of magnets.

Oh, and not to mention, a moment from an interview, another one from Vogue to be a little specific, in which Tom removes one of the rings that was on his fingers, the one that is always on his pinky, and decided to put it on your finger. — God, your fans went completely crazy on all social media, especially on Twitter. — It wasn't so perfect, in the right measure, but you didn't remove it in any way.

During the premieres, several photos with you kissing Tom's cheek and him kissing your hand, like a knight, spread across networks and even on the film's official accounts. — And Rachel commented on all of them. — And the photos that show Tom's hands on your waist, holding you so gently accompanied by such a sweet and intimate look and following you wherever you went became your favorites.

Flashes and snippets of interviews, videos of Tom's hand on your back, helping you with your long dress and him brushing some locks out of your face while you answered questions. — Even the interviewers smiled witnessing those acts.

And there's always a like from Tom Blyth on Instagram posts of these photos.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Main Masterlist || Navigation || All works are F!Reader || All images sourced from Pinterest ||

SONGS THAT SOUND LIKE SEA-FOAM || Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In which a lone mermaid finds good company with a handsome fisherman who trespasses in her cove. But the word isn't what it used to be...hunting ships patrol the waters.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

FANART: “You’re somethin’ beautiful, y’know that?” & "Mermaid Interpretation" by @thedevillovesflowers

2. RUN AWAY TO ME || Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Blacksmith!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Runaway Bride!Reader

SYNOPSIS: The night started with wine and ended with blood. Racing through the woods after having escaped your wedding, you find a lone homestead in the middle of a rainstorm. Alone, wounded, and bordering on unconsciousness, you have no option but to knock.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

3. BLOOD-STAINED WOOL SPUN AT MIDNIGHT || 18 + Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Werewolf!Ghost x F!Tailor!Reader (Set in Van Helsing Era/Aesthetic)

SYNOPSIS: When you left the town in the year of our Lord, 1897, to buy more wool from the local farmer, the cobblestone streets had come up to meet the hooves of your neighbor's horse.

Along this trip of false hope, the open fields at your sides had led to the backdrop of a brimstone forest; an old shadow seems to loom there. A black thing. A devil with eyes like a burial mound. You were told to fear the Ghost of the Forest, but never had you known you'd be caught in his blackened claws.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

4. BLACK METAL AND BOURBON || 18+ Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Ghost x F!Bartender!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You've been in this small town for your entire existence, giving up dreams and aspirations to carry on life as a simple bartender despite your hatred of two things: the smell of cigarette smoke and the disrespect from regulars, namely, your ex and his buddies. But on a still-air Sunday, almost overnight, a mechanics shop pops up right across the street - giving sight to new faces and a fresh group of men with a love of motorcycles. One, in particular, seems to only like Bourbon.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

5. TO HUNT A SILVER STAG || Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Knight!Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Fae!Princess!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Promised to a greedy king to try and preserve the magic of the land, a princess instead finds herself drawn to a chivalrous knight and his gentle words. But everyone knows magic has a mind of its own.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

6. HOW TO ADAPT TO FIRE || Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader

SYNOPSIS: There is an arsonist in your city, and you're going to catch him. As one of the most prolific investigative journalists in the city, you make a lot of enemies the second your papers are released to the public. Your informant - and perhaps something more - in the local fire department makes a point to tell you to be careful.

But everyone knows he's right beside you when the fires start sparking.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

7. MOSS, BONE, AND A FALLING STAR || Mini-Series || Not Started

PAIRING: Witch Hunter!Price x F!Witch!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Humans have not been kind to you, but they usually are to things that they don't understand. You're offered a deal when a rugged-looking Witch Hunter shows up at your secluded hut. Make him see you for what you truly are in three stories or less. You oblige and give him the limit - a story of moss, of bone, and of a falling star.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

8. VIVAMUS, MORIENDUM EST || Undetermined || Not Started

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader (Reincarnation AU)

SYNOPSIS: In every lifetime you made a promise to one another: even if you must die, you will find a way to live together for all of eternity, be that five or a hundred years from now. You'd not broken your promise yet.

CHAPTERS: Undetermined

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Adrian smiled but Lisa smiled from the pets on her head. She did blink to hear that. "Hmmm, I got some new plushies for my room and this necklace from papa!" She shows a forest theme necklace with a cute yellow and red gem that was carved. "But I Hope daddy and papa got something for Christmas too.."

Davion smiled but he nuzzles Edmond's head with a smile to hold his family close. Mercedes smiled but she looks to nod. "Yes daddy. I did and papa was a good teacher. I learned a lot today and I can't wait to learn more."

Kinley smiled holding onto him but Ren smiled seeing this and noticed Yakumo coming in with some hot cream soup. "Seems we do but I hear it's pretty good." he said.

Noah smiled happy with Trevor happy too while looking and holding his family too. Though, this was just as nice being with his family.

Alastor smiled to see the food but saw Elliot and Maya hungry and ready to eat. It was nice and the two shows smiles while looking at their parents.

Quincy, Edmond, and Garu had been singing all day, and now we're finally getting a break. Some fans got a bit handsy, but Quincy scared them off. They stopped by a store to get presents for their partners and children. They knocked at the door of the mansion.

Their was commotion inside the estate mansion but someone heard the knocking to go and open the door. "Hmm? Oh hey guys! Merry Christmas!" Hanoka smiled welcoming the three while knowing they had to be here for their husbands and kids.

[the-punforgiven]

Note that the ones you don't choose will not attack you all at once, they'll attack you randomly within the span of a couple months. The unchosen ones are free to form alliances with each other as they see fit, but are not guaranteed to do so.

Additional (optional) details below the cut

- The mercenary and the bounty hunter can be paid off, but only if you choose a protector with the money to do so

- The young wizard's grandfather was much more powerful than the old wizard is

- The magic sword the inexperienced knight wields has a moral compass of its own and HATES the overlord specifically, and she will not ally with the young knight because of it

- The aged wizard does have a spellbook of his own and is experienced enough to teach you, so you could in theory learn some of the spells from it for yourself but it would be very difficult

- The Overlord does have an army of evil minions at her disposal, but has chosen not to use them because she's so confident in her supernatural strength and evil magic. She might stoop to summoning a few of them if the situation gets REALLY dire, though

- The mercenary is VERY well trained with his greatsword, and bodyguarding is his specialty

- The woman in the coat and hat always seems to have wispy shadowy tendrils coming off of her, and you've never seen more than the lower half of her face. She's tall and mysterious but you don't actually know what she's capable of tbh

- The pirate like just finished a fairly lengthy voyage and does not have enough supplies on his ship to stay at sea for the whole month. He will have to make port at least once to resupply

- The dragon knight is the tallest of the bunch, narrowly beating out the Overlord. He can also breathe fire, though it hurts him greatly to do so

- The bounty hunter has an extensive set of plans specifically tailored to kill everyone else on this list individually. However, those plans are somewhat situational and the others regard him with suspicion enough to plan around his planning, which he in turn plans to plan around as well

- The wailing spirit has some beef with the pirate. She terrifies him specifically

- The vampire can create thralls to assist you, but does not have any at the start

- The vampire and the overlord do both have castles you could hang out in, but the vampire's is not well guarded and the Overlord as mentioned previously has given her minions the month off

- The goblins have a small camp of tents in the middle of the forest, with a 5-foot high defense wall made of sharpened sticks. They are armored in scraps and have really shitty weapons but they're a scrappy bunch who'll consider you one of their own, and are very experienced in ambushes and hiding

- The Overlord regards the goblins with a sense of fond nostalgia, recalling her command of them in her younger years

[n0t-y0ur-piece-0f-cake]

Hiiiiii how are you? I wanted to ask if you could do a super spicey one shot where a male yautja ends up stalking a group of girls and having his way with them in various ways, one by one but then when he finally gets to the reader he ends favoring the reader more than the other girls and ends up breeding reader until the next morning and after that he decided she was gonna be his mate 😏

A night to remember

Summary: girls night out went absolutely wrong.

Fem reader x male yautja

Warnings: NSFW, omfg where do I start, uhhh, rape/noncon, breeding, alien in a rut, drugging, violence, death, implied forced pregnancy,,,

MDNI MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

For everyone else, read at own risk.

Not proof read, English isn't my first language and this was written at 1 am.

Authors note: my first reaction when I read that request was literally 🤨🫢🫣😈 I never thought I could be capable of writing this, but it helped me through my writers block, thx <3

Preparations were always hard. But the worse was long done. Now it was only make up that was left. Tonight's Friday night. The Friday night. Where me, Michelle and Tina finally got ready for our girls night out. We planned that date for so long - Prepared for so long. The parties theme at our local club was "warrior". So the girls and me obviously had to go all overboard. It didn't matter if we went overdressed or too hard. This was and is going to be some quality time. We had so much fun putting together our costumes. Even tho it was still obvious they were part dresses still.

Tina's get up was leaning more for a samurai. Shoulderpats, chest plate - yet still revealing, and a kimono type dress - also still revealing.

Michelle was more inspired by knights. Her dress was complement nicely by a chain top and some more sliver plates on her arms and legs. As well as a cute half helmet with a gracious yellow feather. Overall not too revealing, but the dress was still short enough to almost pop her butt out.

I on the other hand? I went for something more primal. Like a hunter. A hunter you'd see in a deep forest in the stone ages. I knew all the fur would bite me in the ass at the club, but it was worth it, of course it wasnt all fur. Just a big patch of fur over my shoulder. The rest? A sweet brown dress, showing off my thighs and what was still visible of my collarbone. I even went so far and got myself a necklace with sharp teeth and some Ambers. Not sure if either were real. It was second hand. I put on some last details for my make up. Painting some face markings.

We were now ready to go.

"Wait! Hold up", Tina basically shouted out, as Michelle grabbed her heels. We all looked at Tina. She held up her arms and looked at us with a devious smile.

"We have to get a shot in, just to celebrate"

Michelle shook her head. "Come on, Tina. It's not that pricey at the club."

I looked between the two. Sighing with a smile: "But we've got to celebrate. Now that Tina's moving away."

Tina jumped up, like a kid, begging over and over. "Pleaaaaase - for me? This once, Michelle?"

Michelle was never fond of drinking before hand. Drinking in general even, only on special occasions.

Michelle places her heels back down. Giving up, for Tina's sake. Tina giggled and turned back to the kitchen. Smacking three shot glasses on the table like she's a bartender. A samurai bartender. Michelle and I smirked with Tina. When she pulled put her vodka, our eyes widen. This really was a special occasion. It was her 10 Liter vodka bottle, that she never opened. That shit cost her a fortune.

We watched as Tina opened the bottle, it emitted a cracking sound. Yes. Freshly open. It was untouched. Until now. She carefully shifted the bottle, trying to hit the shot glasses. It already made her look like she was drunk, spilling the vodka left and right. We all giggled. Tina let out a more nervous one. I couldn't watch her struggle any longer. So I held the two glasses up to the bottles head. Making it easier to pour. Michelle took the last glass and also then held it under the head. Now all three were full and each placed in a hand. We looked at each other.

"To Tina", Michelle said, holding up the small glass up and to our middle.

"To Tina." We all said out like a record. Drinking it in one go. Nothing at first. But then a weird taste emerged. I wasn't really used to pure vodka. Michelle, not at all. She coughed. But quickly swallowed her cough as quick as it came. We all chuckled together again.

"I could go for another one... now that it's open...", the bottle owner said, swaying her hip from side to side.

"No." It came out like a choir from us.

"We gotta get there before 8, otherwise, who knows how full it'll be tonight", I said, already going for the small hallway to grab my heels. Tina soon following with Michelle.

The streets were quiet. Some passerbys still on their way to wherever. We had to pass through a small patch of forest. It was lit. Michelle would have driven. If she wouldn't have drunk something. Michelle struggled in her highheels. Almost tripping every meter due to the uneven ground. So me and Tina went to each of her side. Supporting her. We finally reached the club. A big snake already formed upfront.

Tina scoffed. "Great. Are we too late already? It's not even 8 yet."

As we approached I looked at the snake of people. They didn't move at all. As we stood there at the end now too, I noticed that they didn't even open up yet. A quick glance at my phone showed me, that it was just 7:55. "We're not late, we're even too early-"

I was cut off by Michelle pointing out the variety of costumes. Tina joining in. I looked up. Yes. We were definitely not overdressed. We fit right in.

"This one's definitely a cosplayer", Michelle said.

"A good one at that", Tina chuckled. I turned my head. Looking at who they were talking about. A woman, must be around our age. She didn't dress revealing at all. It was a full set of armor. Maybe that was foam. Who knows.

I chuckled out: "Are we underdressed?"

We all laughed at that.

Finally it was time. And exactly on the clock, the security guy finally let the people in. Another one arrived, helping out, due to the long snake. He must have been waiting anyways.

After a good 15 minutes, we were up. Showing our ID, the insides of our small bags, pockets. I was good to go. Michelle too. "That's gonna be a great night", said one of the security guards as he checked Tina's matching bag. Giving it her back, she smiled at him. She was also good to go.

We turned to her. Confused. She caught on to our mimics. "Oh. Just a couple of bucks."

Inside the party hasn't fully started. No one was yet on the dance floor. More like trying to get settled and drunk enough to try and dance. We grabbed a table. Looking over the room. After some talk about Tina's plans for her new apartment she got silent. We were silent. We already told her so many times that we'll miss her. She knows that. I hope she knows that.

"I'll be right back"

She said. Turning away.

"Where are you going?", I asked her. Having to talk louder due to the booming music and her now being a bit further away.

She mouthed something that neither me or Michelle heard. Michelle shrugged. I looked around again.

"Well. Guess I should leave this shithole too, like Tina."

Michelle furrowed her eyebrows at my comment. "No you won't. Who am I gonna ball my eyes out with at the McDonalds in the drive in, after I had another shitty relationship?"

I look at Michelle surprised with a smirk. "So you admit your ex was a douche?" She rolls her eyes. Not saying another word about that topic: "just don't leave. It's already enough that Steelheaded-Tina is moving away."

Speaking of her, she finally returns. With three neon green, toxic, probably so unhealthy cocktails in her hands. She places them down in the middle of the table. A smirk so wide it's almost unsettling. It's so obvious that she really wants this night to be great. We start sipping on them. Talking about God knows what. Eventually we decided to make our way to the dance floor. Tina wasn't quite done with her drink yet. Still half way. Michelle and I already ready to go.

"Guys wait-", Michelle said, "I'll make a break for the bathroom, Tina, you better zip that unholy brewery up so we can dance after."

I look at Michelle, worried. "Want me to tag along?" Michelle shook her head. "Nah, I'm good."

With that she left. A man and a woman approached us, not long after. They started talking to me and Tina. The man seemed especially interested in Tina.

The woman turned to me. Leaning in closer to my ear after I couldn't understand her first try to talk to me.

"Do you have a tampon?" "Oh yeah"

I said. I always had one. Especially at a party. You never know. I open my bag, searching for it, in the corner of my eye, I spotted how Tina and the guy faced the dance floor. The guys hand on the table. I looked back at the now found tampon and gave it to her. She thanked me. Turning away to reach the bathroom. I looked back at Tina and the guy. They now faced each other again. He was obviously flirting, judging by his face and Tina's reactions. I couldn't hear them at all. It was too loud.

Michelle came back. Rolling her eyes at Tina and her new found partner for tonight. She was as amused as me. But deep down we were both still worried. The guy invited Tina to dance. She said yes, as they both went to the dance floor, we quickly stepped on it too, keeping a close eye on Tina.

Everything went fine up until a bit later. We noticed Tina being more tipsy. More unfocused. I gave Michelle a frown, she also caught up to my sightings. As we looked back where Tina and the guy just were, we were surprised in to see it now vacated by another person.

Our dance came out a abrupt end. Quickly glancing around the room. We spotted them. He tried to pull Tina out of the club, to the exit. Through the mass we pushed ourself through. I was first who made it out, pulling Tina to me. She almost crashed down, if it weren't for Michelle coming up in the right moment to support her as well.

The guy looked at us. Obviously distraught by us intervening. "I just wanted to get her some air."

Michelle and I looked at him. "Yeah right, fuck off." I scoffed out loud. Security already noticing the situation.

"Everything okay?"

We turned our heads to the security guard. Explaing what happened. The guard pulled the guy aside. Telling us to still get Tina outside and let her sit with us until he investigated the guy.

Indeed we sat. On a bench. Waiting. Another security guard was nice enough to give us a bottle of water. Which we made Tina drink, even tho she said she doesn't need it. After a while the other guard came back out. With a sigh he tried to tell us in a most neutral way, that he found some knock out drops a hidden pouch of the guys costume. I tried to remember. Yes. When the guy was at our table, Tina wasn't don't with her drink yet. Only before she hit the dance floor she drank. Shit.

The guy tells us to get Tina home. Maybe call a cab. If her state worsens then maybe even a ambulance. He also told us he'll make sure the police knows about that guy, and he won't ever get in again. No matter the outcome of what the police says. He asked for our numbers, in case the police has any further questions in the coming days.

With that, we were let go.

We phoned the cabs. All of them said they couldn't make it in less than an hour. So we decided to walk ourselves. We'd be home faster. We were three people. But only one completely out of it. This was a quiet town, we told ourselves. The woods were lit, so it was okay, we told ourselves. We walked.

As we reached the woods, Michelle couldn't really walk and support Tina at the same time. So after a few meters she decided to take her heels off. We were slower. But steady. Tina was being held steady.

Now that we were slower, I took in the sounds of the night. The sounds of the dark forest. The chirping of the crickets. The owl hooing. And the slight fresh breeze pushing against us. At least my fur covered shoulder wasn't getting cold.

I looked at Michelle and Tina. Tina almost asleep, yet still walking. Michelle was exhausted. Her face a bit pained from the heel-less walking. I faced back at the path. I tried to focus on what was ahead of us. Our surroundings. But... was I getting deaf? I can still clearly hear Michelle and Tina walking. But I didn't hear any cricket. No owl. The wind was still there. I felt as if the air got heavier. The owl started hooing again. Maybe I was just tired, too unfocused.

We kept walking. Half way there. The lights in the woods path, were still lit. I glanced at my watch again, as Michelle also stopped walking, taking a break. 11pm. As I waited for Michelle to gather her strength again, Tina woke up slowly from her half asleep state. Being all giggly and seeming like a high person. I took a deep breath in. Focusing on my surroundings. We have to get her to safety. The crickets and owl were still at it. Then, a crack. Silence. I assumed the animals would start again, but, the owl took flight. Flying over and away from us. I felt the aid get heavy again. I felt nervous.

"Can we keep walking?" I said, almost stuttering. Almost begging Michelle. Tina jumped off and away from our arms. "Let's camp!"

Michelle rolled her eyes. "No Tina, we can camp at your place. Where we should be right now."

Tina wanted to say something, but we were cut off by a net being launched at me and Michelle. We were trapped. Tina chuckled as she looked at us. "Spidermaaaaaaan"

Michelle was the first one to try and rip open the net, followed by me. "Looksy! I see you, handsome!", Tina cooed, she was turned away from us, pointing into the tree line, where the net came from. Our eyes already somewhat used to the dark, spotted a shape. A man? Michelle now engaged in trying to rip apart the net even more. I looked at the figure, trying to see them better. But it moved all of the sudden, launching himself with a uncanny jump towards the free standing Tina. Snatching her right up. She was pulled into the bushes. We heard it all rustle. "Oooh- manly man-", Tina cooed again, the silhouette of them indicating, she's tracing his stomach.

I helped Michelle. The net seemed unbreakable. Our initial shock calming down slowly, making us finally able to talk. "Oh my fucking god- TINA RUN!"

Michelle yelled. She was in my vision, I couldn't see what she saw. What happened with Tina or who that was.

"That is not a man!" She kept yelling.

"But he's so-" a loud scream emitted from Tina. I pushed Michelle aside as we both yelled out for her. Who or whatever it was, I pushed Tina against a tree. It's form seeming to ram its hips into her. Her screams were parallel with its thrusts. I panicked. Digging under the net with my bare hands. Michelle joined in, but she mined away the dirt with her heel.

"Wait we have a phone-" I went to grab where my bag was. But the bag was outside the net. I leaned against it, trying to reach it, pulling the hard working Michelle with me. She was caught off guard by my sudden move, making her drop. "Hey!"

No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get to my bag. Even when I pushed so hard against the net, it left markings on me. Michelle caught on to me, reaching for her bag that she wore. Pulling out her phone. "THIS MOTHERFUCKER!" She starred at her screen. Empty. Trying to shut it on again, but it shut right back down before 911 could even be dialed. In a fit or more rage and desperation she smashed her phone on a rock. It shattered on the third try. She used the now smashed phone to cut the net. I took a shard as well and also tried to cut it. The yelling and screaming from Tina has stopped. Whatever it was, it wasn't human and it growled in relief.

I made it, I cut through. I quickly squeezed myself through the still somewhat smal gap I made. I ran, a trident was launched at me. Thankfully not piercing me as a tree was there, making me pinned up by the neck against it. My head was too big to try and squeeze my way out, and the trident was launched to deeply into the tree. Michelle had squeezed out too, running for me, trying to undo the trident holding me hostage. My eyes widen, the creature walked up to us. In the dim light, I myself saw, that that was no human. No animal. But a creature. Otherworldly. It wore what seemed to helmet and armor. I screamed out. Altering Michelle.

She tuned her head. I pushed her. "MICHELLE RUN-"

Michelle looked back at me, unsure. But I pushed her again. So she ran. The creature running after her now. Knowing I was pinned. I pushed against the trident again, my sweaty palms making it difficult to hold on. Or it was just launched to deep. Or both. I looked back at where Michelle had ran to. Only to see that the creature had caught up to her. Having her pinned down. She was gasping, crying. It had her pinned by the hip. I panicked again, as it kept smashing against her hips in a unholy force, making her cry and beg, I turned around, facing the tree and pushing my neck against the trident. Thank god it wasn't sharp. I pushed and pushed. It hurt so much, but I did it, I fell back, the top of the trident scraping against my exposed shoulder and arm. The furred shoulder was fine. I didn't mind the blood. I picked up the trident, looked into the direction Tina was, I couldn't belive my eyes.

She was dead. Her thigh, and neck bruised and bloodied. Only then realising, that her body and head didn't add up. It twisted her head and broke her neck.

I took my eyes off her, facing to Michelle and that... creature. I quickly ran towards them, at first it didn't seem to notice me. But as he did, shortly before I could react in time, he got up, I quickly jolted the trident to the side, falling a bit on Michelle. In the short second I laid on her, my head next to hers, it seemed she was still breathing, but barely.

The creature tried to get ahold of the trident. Grabbing it, and pulling it away from me. But I held it firmly. It started to slip from my hands as it used more force. So I quickly pulled my legs up and kicked against the tridents pole, stabbing it at it with my full force. It didn't hit him directly, but a spot that wasn't covered by its armor. It bled. Green. Neon green. As it tried to recover from its injury, I ran. Following the lights, I noticed heavy stomps behind me. They were quick. Close. I didn't dare look behind me. I knew it was... that.

I decided in a frenzy, that maybe jumping between trees might slow it down. So I went off rail, going zick zack between the trees. It seemed to help. For a while. I was still close to the paths lights, just enough so I could see. Just my luck that I spotted a axe in front of me. I abruptly stopped, grabbed it, and swung out. It jolted back, I almost hit it. Almost.

It roared out, angry, I flinched, but still held the axe steady. I once again tried to launch it at him, several times in a span of seconds. It nicked him twice. It growled and roared again, getting more and more agitated, out of no where it kicked me off my legs, making me fall down, before I could react, it grabbed my axe, as well as me, I hit a tree while I stood, a loud thuck boomed next to my ear. The axe was at my neck. I felt out a shaky gasp. I tried to look behind me, but my head was quickly pushed into the tree by its hand. The other toying with my underwear before ripping it off fully, with a single yank.

It got all close. Shoving my hips upwards and off the ground. It didn't matter to it, that it hurt me in that position. My spine felt over stretched. As well did my stomach and soon something else.

I felt its hips shuffle around, the armor plate in front of its crotch scooting over to so he could insert its otherworldly cock. No warning, no lube, no spit. That thing tore me apart with one shove. I screamed out, so high pitched you'd think I was in a Opera trying to destroy a glass. But my high pitch was soon replaced by deep screams, gasped screams. I was trying to get air. My one arm, I pressed against the tree, trying to not get myself killed whenever he pushed back in and could break my neck by this position he had me. The other was at his thigh, rather my fingertips, trying to prevent him from going to rough or too deep. Which was a lost cause. He, whatever he was, was too strong.

He kept pushing and pushing, his speed and force altered from time to time. Already making me see starts. I was already exhausted. Its grip on my head was now a tiny bit more gentle. Letting me look down. There I saw a green-white hued liquid. Which must be what I was thinking. It slowed. As it did so, my hip jolted from all that he's put me through. But to him, it must have been like invitation to keep going. He yanked me around. Facing him, still off the ground. He disposed of the axe by throwing it on the ground.

Before I could try to kick him, punch him, or anything, he held me up, in the air. No tree I could support myself on now. My hips hovered over his. And he let them crash down on his. I whimpered out again, it didn't hurt as much anymore. My fists were on his chest, I was still trying to push him away. As his hips kept rolling against mine, his clawed hand reached up to the brim of my dress, ripping it off. My boobs jiggling intensly with every deeper and faster thrust. I still pushed against him, he grabbed me by the waist and hip, his large hand being able to hold a, to him smaller creature, up like that. I saw the lit path upside down. He kept up his pace, even going rougher. Weirdly enough it felt so good, so good I let out a long restrained moan. No. I can't enjoy this.

But this feeling. Being stretched, filled out fully... the way he hits every spot. Another moan escaped my lips. My fists, now unclenched, grabbing at his stomach armor. His pace picked up. Thinking I'm trying to tell him to speed up. With that my body shivered throughout, I quickly sat myself up again on his hip, one of my hands grabbing at his shoulder. His monstrous pace not decreasing.

I leaned my head against the crook of his neck. The corners of my eyes turned black. And I screamed as I came undone on him. As I painted the green-white hued liquid on the ground with my own as well.

He still kept up the pace, not letting me recover. I insides clenched around his cock, I needed to recover but I couldn't. He wouldn't let me. He now placed his arms on my shoulder. Pinning me to him as he needed to get his rut out. I moaned and whimpered against his neck, everything went more dark by each push. I didn't recognise anything anymore. Just how he felt in me. How he pushed his seed deeper and further up. I didn't know how many times he came. How long he's been going at it.

I woke up again. I was dropped down somewhat gently on the ground. Sat up on the damn tree. I looked down at myself. As he stood before me. Whenever I moved a muscle, as I tried to get up, a big drop of his green-white cum emitted from my pussy. It even appeared that my stomach was more bloated. My thighs being covered in all that liquid. I looked up at him, behind his head, were the trees heads, exposing the now dawning morning sun. Its been that long!?

I watched as he picked up the axe, then me. Me? I was swung over his shoulder. My stomach pressed against it, making more cum blurt out. He walked deeper into the woods. I was too weak to do anything. Too exhausted. He stopped, I looked over his shoulders. My eyes widen at the sight. A otherworldly craft. A vehicle. A ufo? A ufo. And he carried me inside. Setting me down on a chair in the cockpit, putting on what seemed to be seat belts. "Mate", it said in a scratchy growling voice. He turned away from me and started his ship.

My heart stopped. That sure was a night I won't ever forget.

[fandomnerd9602]

Lost/Found

Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

You lost her. The love of your life, snuffed out by Kang right before your eyes. In your rage, you supercharged your armor and sliced his head clean off.

Wanda Maximoff was your Scarlet Witch and you were her Iron Knight. A love forged first in adversity but eventually it gave way to a forbidden love. And now that love was all you had left.

You thought that was the end of it. But then the TVA showed up. They declared that you had left your path on the timeline by killing Kang. So you were pruned from the timeline.

The next thing you knew, you woke up in the Void. A vast empty wasteland full of broken buildings and trinkets.

Luckily the TVA didn’t think to strip you of your armor or toolkit. You quickly worked to get a near perfect Honda Odyssey back into working order. You just had to convert the gasoline engine into one that worked off repulsor tech. A simple solution that could only be thought of in the mind of a Stark.

You drove around, gathering up supplies and food. There was no way out of the Void. So you might as well try to survive. Surviving was really all you could do after losing Wanda.

Something pushed you to keep going. Detka. The word rummaged in your head. It was Wanda’s name for you. It spurred you to keep going.

You came to gather info about how the Void was ran by Cassandra Nova. A helpful fellow named Johnny Storm filled you in before pointing you in the direction of the so called Resistance.

You drove what seemed to be miles upon miles. Endless dunes and forests. Which way was it supposed to be? Straight detka.

You drove all night and into the early morning. Stop

You obeyed the small voice buzzing around in your head. Ahead of you was a small clearing with ruins stacked upon each other, forming a little makeshift base. Was this the resistance base Johnny spoke of?

You stepped out calmly, keeping your hands raised. A sai immediately hit the door of the Odyssey. You turned to see a woman dressed in red ninja gear drop down from a nearby tree.

“Who are you?” She asked firmly.

“(Y/N) (Y/N) Stark,” you state as you drop the briefcase that was your armor to the ground and kick it towards her.

Surprisingly she dropped her own weapons and looked at you a little surprised, “(Y/N)? As in the (Y/N)?!”

“Ihighlydoubtthere’sanotherone” a Cajun accent gentleman came up to you with a smile. “Remy. Remy Lebeau. TheycallmetheGambit”

“Stark” you shook his hand, “they call me the Iron Knight but my love used to call me her…”

“Detka!!!” A familiar voice called out to you. And there she was, looking not a day older than the day you lost her: Wanda Maximoff.

“W-Wanda” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes.

Tears were forming in her own as she ran to you. You ran to meet her. The two of you held each other close. Wanda grabbed your face with her nimble fingers and stares at you, just wanting to take in every little detail.

“Is it really you? My (Y/N)!” She cries.

You hold her own face in your hands, “it’s me, Wanda.”

The two of you kiss each other, like each one may be the last. Or maybe the first.

“Ahlookatthelovebirds” Gambit smiles.

“Finally” a well dressed vampire hunter joins the group.

A young teen steps out from the base, smiling at the scene before her, “you were like all she could talk about!”

“I’m never letting you go.” You whispered against Wanda’s lips.

“Promise me that,” Wanda begged quietly.

“I promise” you don’t hesitate to respond. You gently wipe away her tears with your thumbs.

You heard the horn of another Honda odyssey rolling up. “Hey you made it!” Johnny called out as two more colorful figures jumped out from the back seats.

“Ohmygoshf—k!!” The red clad man exclaimed, “Scarlet Witch and Iron Knight?! Disney did not cheapen out on us!!”

The other man, clad in yellow and blue walked up to Wanda and shook her hand, “Wanda. It’s good to see a familiar face. Even if it’s from another world.”

“Uh thank you?” Wanda says with a little smile.

You give her forehead a little kiss. You had your witch back in your arms. And thanks to Deadpool and Wolverine, you may have found a way back home.

Tags: @lifespectator @aloneodi @family-house-of-m @holiday-house-of-m @iiconicsfan25 @iamnicodemus @jacenradio7 @dudesweet17 @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7

[archived-daydreams]

— First love, late spring.

Summary: what does it feel like, to fall in love with them?

Characters: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, Gepard, Kafka, Bronya, Serval, Asta x gender neutral reader.

Word count: 1.2 k.

Tags: fluff.

Author’s note: my debut writing for Honkai Star Rail ! I know Jing Yuan hasn’t been released yet, so his part is just personal interpretation; all in all, these are just some sort of little headcanons I wanted to try imagining and writing down, I hope you enjoy <3

Reblog to support your favorite authors ! It helps more than likes.

JING YUAN

Falling in love with the Cloud Knight general feels like returning to a home you still hadn’t realized how much you’d longed for.

His calm presence draws you in, a melodious and crackling hearth beckoning you forward in shades of gold and skies at sundown. To stand beside him could be compared to entering a secret forest, where the moon rises as she kisses the dipping sun on the cheek as they meet at dusk. Birds chirp happily, as if revealing the songs your heart likes to play when you are with Jing Yuan, the heat in your cheeks, a manifestation of the firework embers lighting up the starry twilight. The general puts his arm around your shoulders, bringing your form closer to his, fluffy argent hair tickling the side of your neck.

You lean into him, the sunset looks a little brighter when your lover’s lips graze your temple.

And when his big calloused hand intertwines its fingers with yours, you know with him, anywhere is paradise.

DAN HENG

Scarlet maple forests feel more magical underneath the stars.

In the same way, pieces of every story and memory that constitute the wielder of Cloud-Piercer take form before your eyes as you make your way starwards.

Not one for many words or idle conversation, Dan Heng shows you the emotions he conceals to the public in small actions, starlit fragments only the one who dares to rummage between the layers of crimson leaves will uncover. Shielding you from unexpected enemies, helping you up and down the platform of the express, throwing a blanket over your shoulders when you inevitably pass out on the couch after running around with March… And when, still halfway into your realm of dreams, you call his name, a keen eye may spot on the express gurad’s cheeks some of the carmine usually adrift in the breeze in the autumn months.

Then again, if could be just your sleepy imagination…

Perhaps. is the lingering “what if” echoing on your mind.

GEPARD

The steady rock amidst a tumultuous ocean, relentless waves colliding against its silvery surface, time and time again.

Yet the rock does not yield.

Much in the same way the captain of the Silvermane Guards is your white-hot anchor in the blizzard.

No matter how hurt you are, Gepard stays.

No matter how drained and wasted your last breakup left you, his strong arms embrace you, the biting gales futile against his hold.

And maybe, taking notice of your own (and his) feelings might take you a while.

But Gepard Landau’s heart only knows loyalty.

So he waits.

For you to realize, for the sun to finally shine, and mark the path from you to him.

Because argent tends to reflect the skies, and only when the morning star deigns to shine, can the cobblestones tying you together gleam.

You take a step, and you know Gepard Landau is your only destination.

KAFKA

Exhilarating and with “danger” spelled in boldened capitals, that is how romance with the Stellaron’s Hunter feels.

The rational part of you warned you this was a bad idea, yet, as they say, sometimes, the heart wants what it wants.

Freedom prevailed that night, and your lips met the Interastral Peace Corporation’s most wanted’s.

It could have been the drinks you had, against your better judgment, the sweet intoxication of the alcohol in your system and of the temptation of her, a ticking bomb combination.

But caution is thrown to the wind the moment Kafka wraps her priced coat around your shoulders, her lips sensually whispering in your ear, promises of a million idyllic tomorrows together already tangling in the messy yarn ball of your mind.

But who are you to refuse? Or how could anyone, for that matter? When her painted lips envelop yours under the infinity of the firmament?

BRONYA

Dignified, smart, and the picture perfect image of what a heir should be like.

However, what is hidden beyond that icy facade of flawless poise?

Your sweet lover, a girl who enjoys the sound of tranquil nights and hurried steps by morning, someone who lets herself daydream to the faint music coming from Golden Theater.

A beautiful and enchanting contradiction, a storm of opposites you can’t help but get lost in, from the pretty curls of her lucent hair, to her determined gunmetal gaze.

Who would have thought, you think with a tender smile, as your hands run through her steel moonlit tresses, that you’d get to win the heart of the Heir to the Supreme Guardian of Belebog?

Leaving a soft kiss to the crown of her head, you lay down beside her in bed. With a last look out the window at the slate sky, you close your eyes.

The lyrics to a ballad swirl in your mind, probably coming from Golden Theater.

In the dim light, you find your girlfriend’s hand.

That night, Bronya Rand would be the actress in your oneiric plane, her heart, yours alone.

SERVAL

Electrifying and magnetizing, akin to a violet horizon right before a storm. The thunder in the distance makes your every hair stand on end, yet you can’t help longing for something more.

Afternoons helping Serval out at Neverwinter Workshop always end with you sitting before her, wide smile aglow on your features as she picks up her electric guitar. You always loved the way her sapphire eyes sparkled when she talked about this or that new song she was composing, but actually getting to see her perform for you alone… that’s enough to get you giddy.

Her painted nails strum the cords with ease, each of them bending at the workshop owner’s will, as lightning seems to take command of your heart, its thundering pace and the melody she plays seamlessly dancing to the beat of a fervent tango.

As the sky throws its indigo shawl over the lovers, the blonde gazes at you, a pretty (and unusual) rosy tone on her cheeks, a silent inquire for your thoughts about her new piece.

After all, you’re always the first one to hear every new song she comes up with.

ASTA

The girl who used to dream of naming stars after herself finally found a star that will always orbit around the fiery sun she is.

Her crystalline eyes look up from the papers she was sorting out until moments ago, her lips curving up in a crescent not unlike the one she used to observe, when she spots you.

Two cups of coffee in hand, you sit beside her, your head leaning on her shoulder. Your hand catches hers over the table, prompting her to stop the frantic scribbling of her pen.

And the instant her opalescent gaze meets yours, she is breathless, a nebula the color of her hair spreading through her cheeks. Her pen falls out of her grasp, the words she never seems at a loss for, failing her.

As they do every time when it comes to you.

But who could blame her? When she’d trade every galaxy and celestial body in this universe and the next for a millisecond next to you?

The lead researcher of Herta Space Station closes her notepad.

For now, work can wait.

[revasserium]

Zoro and the hunter's heart (as, you know, he's a former pirate hunter... nudge nudge)

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

a hunter's heart

opla!zoro; 6,553 words; fairytale retelling!au, fem!reader, no "y/n", hunter!zoro, fluff and angst (only a bit), hurt/comfort (kinda), mentions of witches and magic and curses

summary: there are some stories that the world can't stop telling

a/n: i should know better by now than to think an opla zoro fic could be anything but too involved... ╮(￣▽￣"")╭ tagging @dira333 bc its ur request and @bby-deerling bc u were kind enough to ask <3

It is a sordid tale, to hear the villager’s old witch tell it — one near and dear as the rise of the sun in the east, the set of the moon in the west, old as time itself. Because you see, there are some stories so ancient and so integral to the world that it bears, nay demands, retelling, reliving. Stories so stanch and certain that they wear groves into the truth of the world by the tracks they trail, over and over and over again. Stories that the world can never stop telling, no matter how hard it might want to or try.

This is one such tale.

“Take her into the forest — and bring me back her heart,” commanded the Queen.

The hunter had knelt before his queen and bowed his head, his swords heavy at his side. Inside his chest, his own heart was thundering, thundering. A storm brewing within the depths of his soul. But he’d schooled his expression straight and taken his orders.

You were nothing more than a kitchen maid, but you had the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard. All morning, he could hear it echoing through the cool stone halls as you went about your baking of the day’s fresh bread, your churning of the week’s soft butter. He’d lean against the wall just outside the kitchens to listen, to let the music of your voice wash over the ragged edges of his soul, to soothe his frayed ends, to mend what parts might have been broken.

Sometimes, he’d find himself wandering toward the gardens in the back of the castle grounds just to catch an echo of your voice near the wells, where he knows you’ll be in the early afternoons, collecting water for the day’s dinner service. Sometimes, he thinks he can hear it over the clink and clash of swords as he spars with his fellow knights and hunters, and he’d catch himself slowing, almost stilling, and those are the only times anyone’s ever managed to get the upper hand on him.

“C’mon doll, give us another tune.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, sing us a sea shanty! Or another one of your show tunes!”

Zoro frowns as he rounds the corner one day to find a few young knights leaning against the castle wall, towering over where you’re standing, a half-filled bucket of water clutched in your hands. He’s about to intervene when he hears the sound of splashing water, and a second later, the young knights are stumbling back, squawking with indignation as you huff, wiping your hands daintily on your apron.

“So sorry, seems like my hand’s slipped —” you drop into a rather sardonic curtsy before marching passed the stunned young men, leaving them blinking and drenched in your wake. Zoro chuckles, the sound making both of them whirl around, color rising ruddy into their cheeks. They sober immediately as they meet Zoro’s eyes.

He cocks an eyebrow, looking them over.

“S-sorry sir… we just — we were uh —”

“Just leaving,” the second knight supplies as he grabs the first by the arm and tugs him back out into the courtyard.

Zoro watches them go with a muted amusement twisting his lips before turning back to find you peering up at him with a bright, steely light in your eyes. Your shoulder is pressed to the edge of the wall, your body half-hidden behind it as if you’re uncertain of what he might do. As if you’re uncertain of him.

“Sorry about them…” Zoro dips his head, suddenly very aware of how he must seem to you — just another one of the Queen’s toy soldiers, gilded in gold, touched by the sly silver of her cool, slithering magic. Would you think he’d be like them — like those bumbling idiots who couldn’t tell a board sword from a longsword? Who thought braveness and bravado one and the same? And suddenly, the thought that you might sickens him, and he swallows hard, hurrying to explain.

“Not all of us are…” Zoro’s voice trails off as he casts about for the right word — idiots? “Like them”? Neither seems to do it all justice.

He watches as you take half a step out from behind the stone wall’s cover and drop into a slight curtsey.

“I know.” And there’s a bright sheen to the soft whisper of your voice, a certainty that Zoro can’t quite place. And he knew then as he knows now that you — you are just a bit different. Just a bit more than he’d ever given you thought or credit for. Perhaps that was his mistake — he makes a mental note not to make it again.

“I know you’re not…” you wave a light hand towards where the other two knights had stumbled away, and the pinkness in your cheeks makes Zoro’s stomach do a few choice flips he’d never remembered his own stomach capable of till now.

There’s a moment’s pause, and then — you both break into laughter at the same time — him, a tad self-conscious, you, unbidden and bright as birdsong.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“Your sparring form is really nice.”

You both speak at the same time, and in the startled quiet that stretches right after, Zoro finds himself held still by the weight of your eyes, the heaviness of your gaze as it rests on him, wide and startled and… almost pleased. He clears his throat and tries again —

“I hear you all the time —”

“I see you sometimes —”

It happens again, and when you both pause this time, he can see the burgeoning smile threatening to spill over your petal-pink lips; he can feel his own smile breaking like ice in spring’s first thaw.

“I don’t know much about music but —”

“It looks like you’re dancing —”

By the third time, Zoro’s starting to wonder if you’re doing this on purpose, or perhaps he is — because what wouldn’t he do to keep on basking in the sunshine of your laughter, to soak in the brilliance of your smile? What stars and moons and planets wouldn’t conspire to align just for another chance to glance into the midnight dark of your eyes, as depthless as any sea, as wide as any self-respecting night?

“Well —” Zoro clears his throat; you purse your lips and wait for him to finish, “I’ve never danced…”

Mischief hinges on the edge of your smile as you peer up at him through your lashes, “You should try it sometime. I hear it’s quite the workout.”

And there’s something singing beneath the sweetness of your voice that hints at a darker, more intimate meaning to the word dance, but Zoro stops himself before his mind can unspool entirely. He sucks in a breath and chews over the words now sitting solid and unwieldy on his tongue —

“I’ve always thought dancing… required music and —” he swallows and forces his sentence onward like shepherding a stubborn and reluctant bull, “a partner.”

You let your held lilt sideways, watching him like a bird on a branch might consider a squirrel on the ground.

“It’s just… I’ve never quite had either before,” he hurries to explain, feeling heat creeping into his cheeks and finally, he forces his eyes away from you, glancing up towards the piercingly blue sky, completely devoid of clouds. He curses inwardly, his eyes wandering for something — anything — to latch onto that’s not you and your mesmerizing eyes, with the universe caught behind them, or your lips, shaped so much like the answer to a question he hadn’t realized he’d been asking for his whole, entire life.

He watches as you square your shoulders and take a half-step into his personal space, just the tips of your toes grazing into the proximity of too close and at the same time not nearly close enough — then, you dip into a curtsey, lowering your eyes so he has nothing to ground himself on except for the brief breath of your skin, the waft of your hair sweeping down over your shoulders, smelling so much like cotton and milk, salt and honey.

“But now, from where I’m standing…” you look up, and your smile is so much poisoned apples and cyanide, “you’ve got both, don’t you?”

Zoro sucks in a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his head spinning for a second too long and he almost stumbles. Almost. But he catches himself, and when he does, his body moves as a marionette on a string — as if his arms and legs already knew what his mind had for so long kept from him —

He dips into a bow, sweeping one arm over his stomach, the other out to the side. And there’s no dull, discordant clank of armor because hunters and soldiers are made different. Fighters, both, but hunters require a different kind of bloodlust, are a different strain of heartless.

You let out a soft laugh and Zoro wonders if there’s any better music in the world as he offers you his hand. You take it, and he draws your body near with reverent palms, exhaltant fingers — he can almost feel the wild birdwing beat of your heart fluttering in your chest, supplemented by the thundering of his own much more well-trained heartbeat, but even so, the dull pulse of it makes him feel heady with excitement — thump, thump, thump.

And slowly, ever so slowly, the pair of you begin to dance. At first, just to the soft inhale and exhale of your breaths and his. And then, you smile up at him, a startling, chest-piercing, swan-song thing — as you begin to sing.

His first step is hesitant, and the second less so. By the third, Zoro feels his shoulders flattening out and his chest rising as he clasps your palms against his and takes the lead. You let him, with a tinkling laugh, your smile light and bright as daybreak. Your feet skip like pebbles across a mirror lake, and by the time he lets you go, the midday sun is beating down over the castle grounds and the lunch bell is ringing off in the distance. You skip out of his reach and drop into another curtsey —

“Seems like it’s past time for me to go.”

“But —” Zoro bites back the urge to chase after you, his body surging forward to try and stay within the warmth of your orbit.

“Tomorrow,” you breathe, your cheeks a bit too pink, grinning up at him with mischief in your eyes, “after the morning meal… I think I might have some more water to collect.”

You shoot him a meaningful wink as you sweep by him, humming beneath your breath as you go. You brush by him with a sweep of skirt-tails, and it’s a full minute before Zoro can form a coherent thought, whipping around to see the shadow of you disappearing around the corner of the long corridor that leads down to the kitchens.

Up above, neither of you sees the Queen with her blood-red nails clicking against the wide windowsill, her eyes trailing the shape of Zoro as he sucks in a long breath, and shakes himself, before heading back to the training grounds, his earrings catching the afternoon light in a series of gold-gilded sparks.

The next day, Zoro finds you dancing to a two-step by yourself, a bucket of water propped on your hip, the late morning sun caressing your skin like a lover’s fingers. And he finds himself held still by the sight of you, your eyes closed, your body swaying to the rhythm and breath of the earth, the sound of your voice filling the air as water might an already-full glass — spilling over and over till it soaks the earth between you both.

He clears his throat, and you open your eyes. You smile.

Almost sheepishly, he offers you a hand. You take it, and the half-filled bucket is left to teeter precariously on the well’s stone-worn edge as you laugh, letting Zoro pull you in, his palm pressing to the bend of your waist, fingers skimming the small of your back.

Three days, you dance. Three days of blissful mornings and sun-soaked afternoons. Three nights of moonlit walks and roses dipped in starlight.

Because the best things in the world always come in threes — but it just so happens that so do the worst.

Zoro feels his skin crawling when he receives the summons from the Queen. There is only one reason the Queen would summon a hunter like him — she’s found something (or someone) worthy of being hunted. He prays it will not take him away for long.

“Zoro…” the Queen purrs, barely turning to look at him as he bows his head, holding the pose for three beats before straightening. She reaches up to grace her fingers over the edges of an ornate mirror hanging on her wall — a mirror she covets. Zoro has seen its magic, the dull, rough-edged ache thrumming through the earth and the air like poison. He schools his expression into one of flat disinterest as he squares his shoulders.

“Your Highness.”

“I trust you’re familiar with my mirror?”

Zoro makes a soft noise of consent, cold slipping down his spine like cool fingers.

“Then… I trust you know what it does?” the Queen asks, peering at him through it’s dark, onyx reflection.

Zoro glances down, “I can’t say I do, Your Highness.”

“Well then, I’d say you’re in for a treat today —” she chuckles, the sound soft and slithering, her painted lips twisting up in a cruel smirk, “this is a magic mirror, you see… and it’s magic… tells the truth —”

Zoro remains quiet, waiting, waiting.

“Mirror, mirror…”

Zoro feels the air around him condensing, the temperature dropping as the heat siphons from the room into the mirror. The darkened surface swirls with a sickly, purple light before a pallid face appears, empty eye sockets and a hollow mouth. The skeletal reflection peers imperiously back up at the image of the Queen standing before it.

“… tell me, who is the fairest in all the land?”

The Queen preens in front of the mirror, and Zoro feels his stomach filling with lead weight at her question.

Once upon a time, he’d met a kindly old witch in the woods. Her hut had been made of something that looked curiously like gingerbread, and the flowers that decorated her windowsill had glimmered with the shine of tempered sugar. He had offered to help her carry a basket of waxy red apples from the market to her hut and in return, she’d offered him the answer to one question.

“What… exactly is magic?” he’d asked, young and uncertain.

She’d laughed a laugh that might’ve once been high and imperious but then had only sounded like an amused old woman faced with a question she hadn’t quite expected.

“Magic… well — I’ll tell you this — magic is always more than meets the eye, and never what it promises.”

Zoro had blinked, frowning as she’d peered up at him with a pair of mismatched eyes — one milky and filmed over, the other dark as crow’s feathers.

“What does… that mean?”

“It means… that sometimes, magic lies. Sometimes… magic only tells you what you want to hear. Sometimes, magic is more about what you think is true because in the end… that’s the only truth that matters.”

The magic mirror contemplates the Queen’s question as Zoro stands behind her, holding his breath.

“There is but one fairer than Your Highness —”

Zoro’s vision tunnels, the voice of the mirror thickening around him as if his head were suddenly submerged in water. Heat creeps up the back of his neck like spider’s legs, quick and skittering, and he knows the answer before the mirror says your name.

“I see…” the Queen muses, though Zoro can hear the hard edge in her voice, the light catching on it like a twisting blade as she turns back around to face him. And she is beautiful, there’s no denying — the Queen’s face was, up until very recently, what Zoro had thought true beauty must be like.

He’d understood it only in the most abstract, academic sense — beauty — had only ever nodded when the other knights and hunters had wolf-whistled at the rosy-cheeked maids that dotted the castle, scattered along the halls like handfuls of sugar.

The first time he saw the Queen, he’d wondered at the perfect proportions of her eyes and nose, the dark, certain arch of her brows, the cruel tug at the ends of her painted lips and he’d thought — ah, is this what all the fuss is about?

But then he’d seen you, hadn’t he? And your face — he knows it is not perfect, he’s leaned in close enough to see the texture that mars your cheeks, the way one side of your mouth always lilts up first in a smile, the flecks that adorn your eyes like lost shards of sunlight caught beneath your lashes —

Beautiful, he’d thought.

Later, he wonders if that moment might’ve been your doom.

“Take her into the forest,” the Queen says, smiling her cruel, cruel smile as she watches Zoro lower his head, “and bring me back her heart.”

Zoro swallows hard as he bows.

You are waiting for him the next morning, just after breakfast, your hands laced behind your back, an empty bucket resting precariously along the edge of the well.

“No dancing today,” Zoro says, his voice clipped and low, his gaze darting away toward the darkness of the forest behind you. You blink up at him before following his gaze.

“Then… will you accompany me on a walk?”

Zoro frowns, nearly wincing away from you as you lean in, grinning your sly fox’s grin.

“But…”

“Oh, don’t tell me a hunter like you’s scared of the forest.” You dance away from him before he can protest, reaching for the bucket and propping it on your right hip, “C’mon, I promised the head cook I’d pick some berries for the feast tonight. Didn’t you hear? The Queen’s finally found a spell for eternal youth and beauty.”

Zoro stares after you as you pick your way across the garden, making for the wrought-iron gates that separate the castle grounds from the wilderness beyond.

“A spell for…” Zoro’s frown deepens as you glance at him over your shoulder with a sad little smile.

“They say the Queen was cursed by a powerful witch to always search for that which she can never have.”

Zoro keeps behind you as you meander into the shadow of the trees, seemingly following a trail only you can see, occasionally stopping to bend over a burst of bright red berries, picking a few and tossing them into your bucket before pressing one to your lips. He watches as berry juice dark as blood tints your lips and trickles down the edge of your mouth.

“Did you know… that there are only three ways to break a witch’s curse? One is for the witch herself to lift the curse.”

Here in the darkness of the forest, your eyes shine like twin stars.

“Another is to kill the witch and all those who cared for her.”

Here in the darkness of the forest, the lopsided lilt of your smile flashes white, and sharp, dripping dark red —

Zoro’s sword is in his hand before he realizes, and suddenly, every twig-snap and leaf-rustle sets his bones on edge. The wind tastes sweet on his tongue, swirls thick with magic as he whirls around, searching for the silhouette of you and finding nothing but endless, pressing dark.

“Zoro?” your voice nearly makes him stumble as he twists around, eyes wide, chest heaving, only to find the tip of his sword resting against the delicate hyphen of your clavicle. Your breath hitches, soft as he’d always remembered it, but you don’t pull away; you don’t even flinch as you stare up at him, as if waiting for him to do something.

“Are you going to kill me?” your voice is low and smooth, without a single flicker of fear.

Zoro’s grip loosens as he forces himself to pull back. He hisses out a breath and shakes loose his shoulders.

“No,” he says, his own voice coarse, clipped, “I’m not. But —”

“Oh good — that would’ve made things rather awkward for our date.”

Zoro gapes as you laugh, twirling around to continue on your way through the forest. He hastens after you a few seconds later, brushing aside low-hanging branches and shouldering passed thicker bits of underbrush.

“D-date?”

“Mhm,” you hum, sounding very pleased as you lead him on, and on, and on, “you wouldn’t want to miss it — grandma’s baking pie.”

“What… ” but his words trail off once more as you turn and make towards a clearing that he’s certain wasn’t there a moment ago — a clearing with a tiny hut that looks as if it’s made of gingerbread. The flowers on the windowsill glitter jewel-bright and candy-hard.

“My grandma’s house,” you say, smiling as you push through the door with your bucket of blood-red berries still perched on your hip.

Zoro’s frown carves ever harder into his brows as he follows after you on hesitant feet, though he can’t help the way his muscles loosen the second he steps over the small hut’s threshold and catches a whiff of something wonderful in the air — cinnamon and sugar and apples.

“Ah, you’ve made it just in time!” the old witch looks up from where she’s tending a vast fire that casts the entire hut in a warm, ethereal glow. Zoro glances back at the open patch of cloudless blue sky somehow visible in a small gap between the trees before stepping in.

“Apple pie again, grandma?”

“Your favorite,” the old witch replies with a grin as you set the bucket on the small wooden table, “And I see you’ve brought a guest, though…” the old witch’s single black eye catches the firelight as she peers are Zoro, still standing just inside the doorway.

“It’s nice to see you again, young man.”

Zoro bows, rather awkwardly, and though it’s been many years since he’d helped the old woman with her apples, she looks exactly the same. He can’t say quite the same for himself.

“Come, sit! Have some berry wine,” you say, ushering Zoro towards the table, where you’ve somehow replaced the bucket with two jars of red liquid that glimmers like garnets in the flickering firelight. You pour a glass and nudge it towards Zoro, who simply stares, trying very hard to wrap his head around what must be happening.

A dull, thrumming ache is gathering at the base of his skull, but the pie smells so sweet and the wine looks ever so tantalizing.

He reaches out and takes a sip, letting the cool liquid slip down his throat. He feels it slither through him, sending tiny pin-pricks of heat trailing along his limbs as he swallows.

“Ah… so he’s not like the rest of them.”

He blinks down at the wine in his cup for a second more before you reach out and tug it from his hand. A soft palm cups his cheek and forces his face up. He meets your eyes and finds them searching.

“You weren’t lying… you really hadn’t planned on killing me.”

You sound almost surprised as your grandma chuckles behind you, the noise like the clack of old stones against one another.

“I told you he was different,” the old witch says, slowly slicing a bit of pie and putting it on a plate.

“All men think they’re different,” you say, your voice resigned as you take the slice of pie and set it in front of Zoro, “Right, now eat — it’ll make you feel better. I’m sorry about that… just… you can never be sure.”

The old witch tuts, shaking her head, “A broken heart is it’s own kind of curse, you know.”

Zoro blearily takes a bite of cake and feels his senses returning to him one by one; he takes stock of them as if he’d forgotten entirely that he’d lost them in the first place. As he chews and swallows once, twice — by the third time he can feel the tightness in his muscles returning as panic and confusion flood his system.

He jerks up from the table and reaches for his sword.

“Please, there’s no need for that,” you say, though you sound hesitant as you hold up a hand, your expression earnest as you take half a step back.

“What the hell did you do to me?” he seethes, looking between you and the old witch, uncertain of who to aim his anger at.

“I had to be sure,” you say again, your voice imploring as you inch forward, “Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah well —” Zoro gulps past the dryness in his mouth as he narrows his eyes, “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

You wince ever so slightly, looking away, “No, you’re right but… please,” you say again, and the word works like magic as it settles over Zoro’s shoulders. He wonders if it’s actual magic, but no — there’s no strange sweetness in the air, no thick fog threatening to cloud over his judgment.

“It might be quicker to show him,” the old witch suggests, still watching the pair of you with her one oil-black eye, sounding pleasant and entirely unfazed.

“Right… yes —” you sigh, motioning for the door, “The sty is just out behind the hut — you can go out first if you’d like,” you offer.

Zoro looks between you and the door before inching back and edging open the door with his foot, keeping his eyes fixed on you as you follow him with light, muted movements.

The air outside is crisp and cool and Zoro can’t help sucking in a breath as he steps out from the halo of the firelit hut. Grass crunches beneath his feet, birds sing overhead. There’s the lingering heat of magic still crackling in the air, but when his gaze falls back onto you, he finds you no less lovely than he’d done the first time.

“This way,” you say, rounding the edge of the hut and leading him towards a sizeable pigsty that he’d completely failed to notice the first time he’d been here as a young boy.

A looming sense of dread calcifies in the base of his stomach as he approaches the pigsty on heavy feet. The pigs all jostle against one another, snorting and snuffling with their noses pressed into the long feeding pen. From the pockets of your skirt, you produce a handful of bright red berries and toss it into the pen. Zoro watches with mixed fascination and mounting horror as the pigs tumble over each other to forage for the fruit in the dried hay and mud.

“Have you ever heard the saying that… there are some stories the world never stops telling?” your voice is quiet and sad as you reach over to skim your knuckles along the pale pink snout of a snorting pig.

And suddenly, Zoro understands — he doesn’t know if it was a trick of the light or perhaps the magic still working its way through his system but the understanding comes like a rainstorm, a few tiny droplets before the downpour. And were he a weaker man, he might’ve back and tried to make a run for it. But instead, he stands and stares with a strange pity welling up inside him at the lolling tongues and flopping ears.

“These were all men — hunters,” he says, his words slow at first, but picking up speed as he continues to speak, “Who tried to lure you into the wood to —”

“To kill me, yes, so that they could give the Queen my heart. Because you see, the heart of a witch would give her what she so desperately desires —”

“Eternal youth,” Zoro breathes.

“And the first time, I was heartbroken,” you turn away from him, pressing a hand to your heart, “But I managed to get away. And instead of going back empty-handed to face the Queen’s wrath, the hunter caught a wild boar in the forest and cut out its heart instead. Only — an old she-wolf had been hunting the boar for days, and was robbed of a meal. She and I… we came across each other and I was so — so hurt that I offered her my heart in return for putting me out of my misery.”

Zoro presses his lips as your words rush from you in a great wave, pieces of truths crystalizing before him even as they continue to shatter the world he thought he’d known.

“She told me then that… no man is worth dying for, especially not one who would lie to you just to steal your heart. And she offered to teach me —” you wave a hand at the pigsty, “And the rest…”

The soft silence that stretches between you is thin and pained. You cradle your hands to your chest as if trying to stem the hurt of some unspeakable heartbreak.

“And… the wine?” he asks.

Your face lifts and a strike of that familiar, mischievous light returns to your eyes as you grin.

“That was something I brewed up on my own — if the drinker bears me any ill intentions, then it’ll turn them into something a bit more… fitting of their true hearts. But if not then…” you grace him with a soft smile, “Then it’ll only ever just be wine, though a bit on the stronger side.”

“Yeah, a bit.”

A brief silence falls between the pair of you as the sky above begins to shift from blue to a soft lavender.

“You said… the first time,” Zoro says, curiosity now burgeoning from beneath the receding shock of the day, “Do you make a habit of luring men into the woods, then?”

You scoff, “Luring? Hardly. Magic can only do so much, and though the odd enchanted trinket will sell well at the monthly market, people still tend to be wary around witches.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Zoro says dryly, his eyes flickering toward the sty where the pigs, finally satisfied that there are no more berries to be found, have settled into the thick stacks of hay, grumbling and snorting.

You allow him a derisive smile, “Yes well — a girl and her grandmother still have to eat and bathe, and you can only stand so much apple pie before it starts to get a little old. So… I keep a job at the castle. Believe it or not, serving a self-obsessed Queen pays well. And all those… men —” you force out the word like spitting out poison, “Had seemed… good. At least at first.”

Zoro remains quiet as you pause, looking down at your own hands. It’s the first time he notices the light calluses that mar your palms, not so different from his own. He wonders at the smoothness of the handles on the wooden bucket you’d carried so easily through the woods, at how long it must’ve taken for a pair of hands like yours to wear them down so. The old witch’s words echo in his mind — a broken heart is it’s own kind of curse.

“Is that how you got so good at dancing?” he asks.

You grin, giving him a sidelong glance, “Perhaps.”

Zoro sighs, tilting his head back to look at the small patch of visible sky, now a deep, bruising purple.

“So. Now what?”

You echo his sigh, looking up as well, “You can go back, if you’d like.”

“And what? Tell the Queen that you got away?”

Your smile hardens ever so slightly, “Or, you could kill something else in the forest and offer her it’s heart instead.”

“But wouldn’t she know? After she ate it and doesn’t gain eternal youth?”

You shrug, looking away, “You’d be surprised what a person can trick themselves into believing, if they just try hard enough.”

Zoro nods, letting his eyes fall back down to his hand, resting idle against the hilt of his sword.

“Or, I could stay.”

He doesn’t know what makes him say it — and perhaps it was the darkness of the forest, the close, flustered whisper of the leaves, or perhaps it was the lingering sweetness of your home-brewed wine and the tantalizing smell of magic and cinnamon still in the air. But he says it, and he finds that even the strange, still shocked moment after, he doesn’t regret it.

“You… you want to stay?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound so uncertain before.

“Why not? I can’t go back and…” he motions at the hut and the soft ring of warm firelight seeping out from the tiny windows, “The wine’s not bad.”

And perhaps for the first time, Zoro thinks, he sees you smile — a smile that isn’t sharp and full of hidden teeth. A smile that’s helpless and hopeful and just a little bit pained. He smiles back and hopes —

“C’mon then… you can help with the fire. And carry the water.”

“Hn. But you seemed so good at it.”

You shoot him a slight pout as the pair of you duck back into the hut to the smell of roasting vegetables.

There are some stories the world can never stop telling, stories so old that the sing harmony to the very tuning of the universe.

Once upon a time, there was a wolf, a grandmother, and a girl in the woods. Once upon a time, an old witch built a house of gingerbread to lure in the lives of unheedful children. Once upon a time, there was a Queen with a magic mirror. Once upon a time, a witch lived alone in a secluded hut and lured men to her table only to turn them into the pigs they’d always been inside.

Once upon a time, a boy asked a girl to dance.

Once, a boy told the truth and the girl didn’t believe him, because all the boys who’d broken her heart before had given her no reason not to. And a heart can only be broken so many times before it, too, gets tired.

Once, she thought that broken hearts could never be mended.

But she should’ve known that stories, like the magic they hold, very rarely tell the truth. Or perhaps, they too only tell the truths that the listener wants to hear, or is ready to hear. Never more, never less.

So, here is another story — one that’s not so frequently told, but is just as true as the others —

Once, there was a boy who was born with a sword in his hand, who had never know that his body could hold so much music or laughter. Then, he met a girl with the most beautiful voice in all the land, and he, like so many before him, fell in love. Only, the girl had been hurt by all those before him, and no longer trusted the words of boys with sword-hilt smiles and rough, callused fingers. But when he asked her to dance, she agreed anyway, and when she introduced him to her grandmother and offered him wine, he did not hesitate. Instead, he asked if he could stay the night.

That was a long, long time ago.

There will always be another girl with a pretty voice and a viper’s smile at the castle beyond the woods, and always another young knight too eager to please his Queen. There will always be apples at the morning market and magic in the air. But perhaps the pieces don’t fall right where they ought to; perhaps they never did. Perhaps the stories we tell are only ever stories.

“You told me once that there were three ways to lift a curse,” Zoro asks one day, a wooden bucket in one hand, three swords strapped to his opposite hip.

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking up from the large pot of soup bubbling over the fire, a song threading beneath your breath as you sway back and forth.

Zoro grunts as he puts the bucket on the worn wooden table, walking over to slip an around your middle and hook his chin over your shoulder. You laugh as you let yourself be pulled back into his embrace.

“You only ever told me two.”

“Ah… right —” you smile, a smile that is no longer jagged but worn soft around the edges, as if all the sharpness has been smoothed over by years and years of tenderness, years and years of trust, of love.

“So?”

“So…” you place down the wooden spoon and turn to face him, placing your hands on his shoulders as his large, callused palms settle around your waist. The pair of you sway to a song that only the two of you can hear, a song that sings harmony to the very tuning of the universe.

“The third way to break a curse is the easiest… but also the hardest way, depending on who you are,” you say, smiling and swaying in Zoro’s arms. Like this, you can see the late afternoon light as it pours through the small window and catches on the dull gold of his triplet earrings.

“It’s a simple thing, really,” you say, as Zoro leans down to press his forehead to yours, your breaths dancing in the negative space between your bodies. Outside, an old witch sits on a rocking chair and admires the sunset. Occasionally, she reaches into her skirt pockets for a handful of berries to toss into the pigsty to her right.

“Oh yeah? How simple?” Zoro asks.

“Why…” you lean up on your tiptoes, your nose brushing his, your lips mere inches apart. Behind you, bottles and bottles of home-brewed wine sit along the mantle of the great stone fireplace, the color bright and true and freshly spilled blood.

“It’s as simple as a kiss from your one true love, of course.”