#my attempts at kicking writers block in the teeth

[blitzyn]

pervert

miguel o'hara x spiderman!reader

request : none

Synopsis: A game of cat and mouse goes to shit, and you find yourself bound in Miguel's webs.

a/n -> literally nobody asked for this but he's been stuck in my mind for decades and i wanted to get something out for my bbg <3 also super sorry i disappeared again, writers block straight up bitch slapped me and left me in a ditch, plus ive been losing interest in writing for genshin or just the game in general, unfortunately.

wc -> 3.3k

cw -> very dubcon, mean dom miguel, degradation, bondage?, face fucking, google translated spanish, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, slight and brief choking, (semi) public sex??, not beta read

Exhilaration filled your veins as breathy laughs escaped your throat, weaving through buildings and rubble with the precision of someone who has experienced this type of chase countless times before.

And that's because you have. You've been in a near never-ending game of cat and mouse with the esteemed Miguel O'Hara, always close enough to feel the swipe of his talons in the air but too far to catch. No matter how many times he's cornered you, you always find a way to get past him; it was predictable at this point.

That pissed Miguel off like no other, hellbent on capturing you to put an end to your snide remarks, to put you in your place. While that usually would've enticed you in any other circumstance, you weren't too keen on letting him dig his claws into you now that you were chest-deep in this predicament — and his wrath.

"Stop running, already!" he shouted, the sharp edges of fury evident in his voice.

"I'm not running!" you respond, peering back at him with a smug grin. True to your words, you, quite literally, were not running. You were swinging with the agility of a seasoned acrobat, twisting and flipping through debris while looking like you were having fun. You offered him occasional glances and nearly laughed each time. Seeing him, a grown-ass man, almost constantly on all fours was amusing, but hearing him curse and grunt and growl made electricity shoot down your spine in a way that nearly got you caught several times.

Adrenaline filled your body and threatened to burst through your chest each time you evaded him. "Missed me!" you laughed, juking away from his swipe.

"So close!" you flip over him with a taunt. "Try again next time!"

"¡Voy a matarte!¹" He growls, and it was hard to ignore the shudder that rushed through your body. You slightly winced at the feeling. If you don't get your shit together when he spoke Spanish, then you were asking to get caught.

But it's not like you'd mind — Actually, yes, you fucking would!

You click your teeth in annoyance. Despite how hard you tried, you couldn't remove Miguel from your thoughts even though he was right behind you, hunting you down like a wild animal. Your mind strayed toward his broad shoulders, beautifully tiny waist, fat ass (that you'd give a lot to slap), and the massive piece of rubble being hurled at your body.

You blink out of your stupor, feeling your senses going off rather violently. Oh shit.

Everything seemed to move painfully slow as you stared at the debris with wide eyes, noticing Miguel's red web attached to it as he brought it down. You flung your arm out in an attempt to attach your webs to something and swing away, but was unable to pull yourself fast enough as the debris pinned you down to the roof of a building.

"Fuck!" you thought as you grunted and squeezed your eyes shut, agony tearing through your entire body. Swiftly, you pushed against the ground to shove the heavy object off of you, groaning with effort. Just as you managed to stand back up, you heard the familiar thwip! of his web wrapping around your waist and arms to yank you to him.

"Caught you," he said, voice rough and breathless as he panted hard. He loomed over you menacingly, hands curled into a fist.

You struggled, kicking and straining against your binds. "Come on, Miguel." You offer a tense grin. "We both know this won't last very long."

"Ay dios míos,²" he growled, dropping to a knee to roughly press a hand on your face, his fingers digging into your cheekbones. "¡Cállate!³"

...

Woah.

You stared at him with wide eyes, feeling your cock stir in your pants. Oh fuck.

It was hard to ignore your ever growing attraction (and hard-on) for him that seemed to intensify when he deactivated the hologram of his mask. Sweat beaded at his temple while his eyes narrowed at your bound figure, fangs peeking out from behind his lips as he caught his breath.

Even when you were the target of his anger, he was still breathtakingly hot.

You opened your mouth again to shout at him — probably to let you go or something along those lines — but Miguel wasn't having it.

"Why is it so much to ask for you to keep your fucking mouth shut for once?" he hissed, squeezing your cheeks tight enough to ache, but it only went straight to your dick. "Is that all you can do? Run your mouth until someone gets sick of your shit and shuts it for you? Huh?"

You whimpered, meekly shaking your head in denial. Tightly closing your eyes, you swallowed hard and squirmed, secretly trying to will away your hard cock straining against your clothes.

"You're so annoying! Stop moving," he demanded, reflexively looking down to adjust his position over you. His eyes raked over your body for a moment before zeroing in on your erection, pausing in surprise.

.

..

...

"Oh, you pervert."

Your eyelids snapped open at his words, mortification seeping deep in your chest as you shifted your head away from him in shame. Despite everything, you could only feel yourself getting harder under his intense gaze.

"Is that why you made me chase after you?" He forced you to look at him again, your face aching at his manhandling. "Because you wanted to fulfill some dirty fantasy of yours?"

He let out a dry laugh. "You couldn't find anyone willing to satisfy that depraved urge, so you turned to me. Just how desperate are you?"

You shook your head again, letting out muffled words. He mercifully removed his hand from your mouth to allow you to speak, sliding lower to rest on your throat. "I was just playing..."

"Yeah?" He tilted his head mockingly, momentarily adjusting himself to grope your painfully stiff dick. "And this was your master plan? To get off at the face of danger? You're more of a degenerate than I thought."

"N-No, I didn't—" you moaned, reflexively bucking your hips up into his hand.

"Stop lying." He squeezed the hand around your throat just enough to force labored gasps from you. "It's stupid how you don't think I've seen the way you look at me — how you think I haven't noticed you eyefucking me."

A furious blush rises on your cheeks as your cock twitches in his hold. It doesn't go unnoticed.

He laughed again, staring at you in mock disbelief. "You're enjoying this."

And this time, you don't deny it.

"Can't say I expected anything higher from you." He rolled his eyes in exasperation and removed his hands from your throat and dick to place them on your thighs. Effortlessly, he pried them apart to slot himself in between your legs, pressing his crotch flush against your ass.

Groaning, you lifted your hips a bit in an attempt to grind on him. With a growl, he swiftly slapped a hand on your abdomen to push you back on the ground.

"Don't move," he said, glaring at you with a mix of arousal and irritation in his eyes. "I've had enough of you getting your way." He leaned forward, a wince crossing your face when he pressed some of his weight onto your stomach. "It's my turn."

"My way—?" You cut yourself off with a huff when he gave you a stern look.

A thought seemed to pique his interest when he suddenly decided to kneel beside your head. It was nigh impossible to tear your eyes away from his crotch, the area beginning to glitch with a dim, pale blue glow at the strain from his hardening cock.

"Let's put your mouth to better use." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and deactivated the hologram covering his dick. It landed on your face with a quiet slap before his hand guided it to your lips.

You hesitantly parted them, only for them to be forced open wider to make room for his cock. You let out a surprised sound at the entry, but he was entirely focused on making you take him completely.

He was gracious enough to take it slow, relishing in the sounds of your gags and sputters and every deep inhale.

"Thaaat's it," he drawled out, sighing heavily when he felt your tongue rub against the underside of the shaft. "Fuck..."

Your eyelashes fluttered as he buried your nose into his pubic hair, uncontrollably drooling over him while you sucked and licked what you could. You felt him harden in your mouth, forcing himself deeper into your throat while it tightened and spasmed.

He increased the speed of his thrusts, absentmindedly shuffling closer to your face. A shiver ran down your spine when he slithered a hand on the junction between the back of your head and neck to hold you firmly.

A garbled whine left your throat as you subconsciously jerked your hips upwards, searching for some form of relief for your aching cock. You strained against the webs around your torso and arms, utterly intoxicated with his taste, his scent, his sounds—with him.

With a groan, he shoved himself as far as he could inside your throat and held you in place, ignoring how you instinctively struggled against him. A high-pitched ring sounded through your ears as your head spun, chest tightening with the need for oxygen.

Shuddering, he finally pulled out of you, watching with satisfaction as you coughed and gasped for air. A mix of saliva and precum connected your lips and the tip of his cock, to which you quickly licked away. You let him inspect you with a hand still buried in your hair, gaze locked in on your drool slicked chin and swollen lips.

A quiet hmph left him before he turned to place himself back in-between your thighs again, this time extending his talons to tear a path in your clothes from your ass to your crotch.

"H-Hey! Hold on—" you protested and kicked his arm away from you.

"Shut up," he cut you off, swatting your foot away while grasping your painfully hard cock again. "Don't act like you don't want this."

"G-God..." you moaned, furrowing your brows as you stared at him. A squeak left your throat when he suddenly pressed your legs to your chest, a quiet ptuh! escaping his lips alongside a glob of saliva that landed on your asshole.

Retracting his talons, he let go of one of your legs to press two fingers against your hole, shoving them inside you abruptly. You winced at the sting his thick fingers made as it mixed in with the arousal that burned in your gut. He separated them in a scissoring motion, moving in and out at a pace that had you yearning for more. His fingertips brushed against spots so frustratingly close to your prostate, you were sure he was purposefully avoiding it to mess with you.

"H-Hurry up," you demanded, the ache in your balls beginning to prove to be something you could hardly handle.

He gave you a sharp look. "Tell me to hurry up again and I'm leaving you like this."

You stared at each other for a moment longer before you looked away in defeat, muttering under your breath. He ignored you and added another finger, the wet squelching blending in with your soft moans. His hard cock pressed on your thigh, and you briefly wondered how he wasn't fucking you within an inch of your life already.

Quickly enough, you were able to realize that he wanted to make you wait. He wanted to give you a hard time — just like you did to him.

"C-C'mon, Miguel." You breathlessly chuckled, straining against the webs around your torso.

"What?" He raised a brow, satisfaction seeping into his expression at your growing desperation.

You opened your mouth again when he unexpectedly jabbed his fingertips onto your prostate, sending a violent surge of electricity through your body. "Fuck!" You cried out as a spurt of precum leaked out of your dick and enlarged the wet spot on your clothes. He continued targeting the gland, refusing to let you get a word in your sentence. The coil in your abdomen tightened into an almost unbearable degree before he abruptly removed his hand from you entirely.

"God, just fuck me already!" You jerked your hips upwards in a futile search for stimulation.

"You sound just like a whore," he commented, tone full of condescension. A heat washed over your body at his words as you stared at him with wide eyes. You tensed when he leaned down, lust and mirth swirling within his red irises. "Is that all you are?"

"What?" You found yourself unable to look away from him. "N-No, I—"

He shoved his cock inside you mid-sentence, tearing a loud moan from your throat. He held your thighs to fold you in half, using his body weight to pin you down. You panted hard as you tilted your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut. It was hard to focus on anything else but his dick filling you up so perfectly.

Miguel released a gutteral groan, grinding his hips against you. He dug his fingertips into your legs hard enough to bruise, but that was the least of his worries — not when he had you below him. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he leaned back (mercifully removing some of the pressure on your chest) and watched himself move in and out of you, pulling out almost all the way before he slammed himself back inside.

"Ohh, fuck!"

"This is what gets you — mierda⁴ — all compliant, huh?" He taunted, abdomen flexing with every thrust. "The moment you get some dick inside you, you're like a trained mutt."

You opened your eyes to weakly glare at him, to deny what he said, but the moans spilling from your lips did nothing but prove him right.

"Te gusta cuando te trato como si no fueras nada, ¿no?⁵" He leaned back down, hooking his arms around the back of your knees as he pressed his chest against yours, curling his wrists around your thighs to grip the flesh. His breath was hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, lips so close you could feel the vibrations of his voice in your ear drum. "Aren't I right, you dirty little pervert?"

"N-No! S'not right!" You cried out, the burn of his cock stretching you out mixing in with the pleasure so deliciously it was almost addicting.

"Deja de mentirte y admítelo, puta,⁶" he hissed, widening his mouth to graze a fang along your neck threateningly, which sent a shiver down your spine. "Admit it — that you're a depraved whore."

"Admit it." He emphasized each syllable with a thrust, ramming into you hard enough to fuck the breath out of your lungs.

"Shit—fuck! Oh, god!" You sobbed, arching your back into him. You nearly came at the feeling of his abdomen rubbing your aching dick. "I'm a whore! M'your whore!"

His cock throbbed fervently at your words, rewarding you with groans and grunts directly into your ear. Your ass slightly stung at the force of his thrusts as he fucked his anger into you, but neither of you cared.

"Fuuuck!" You drawled out. "Miguel, m'so close! Let — ngh, ah — Let me cum!"

"Yeah?" He cooed in your ear, gently licking the shell. "You gonna cum f'me?"

"Yes, yes—!"

"Then beg."

He stopped moving so unexpectedly that it left you disoriented for a few moments as you stupidly stared at him with wide, watery eyes. "W-What...?"

"Beg to cum," he leaned away from you to get a clearer look at your face. "I'm not repeating myself."

You took a moment to catch your breath (and secretly savor the feeling of his dick twitching inside you). "God, please, Miguel! I need it so bad. I need to cum — please let me cum! I'll be good, I promise! Fuck, Miguel, please let me cum! Please, please, please!"

The sight of the tears along your lash lines sent electricity down his spine as his breath hitched. "You'll be good?" He dryly laughed. "I don't think I believe you."

You opened your mouth in defense when he suddenly slammed himself back inside you, tearing a moan instead of words from your throat. He fucked you hard and fast and deep, grunting in a way you could only describe as animalistic.

But you loved it. You loved how he controlled your body so effortlessly, how he treated you like a cheap fuck toy. You mentally deemed all those chases worth it in the end.

The heat from less than a minute or two prior returned full force as you tilted your head back in ecstasy. You babbled out incoherent words of (what Miguel suspected to be) praise, straining against your binds once again.

You screamed out when the coil in your abdomen finally snapped, electricity shooting down your spine as your cock spurt cum underneath your clothes. You weren't able to process the stain in the fabric when you realized that he hadn't slowed down, deciding to fuck you through your orgasm to chase his own.

You stared up at him, admiring the slight flush on his cheeks, how his brows furrowed in concentration, and even his eyes that shone with disdain towards you.

You could feel his dick throbbing inside you, and you quickly realized that he was about to cum as well. The ecstasy you were granted slowly began to merge with the pain of overstimulation, but it only made the hazy bliss you were in so much better.

"Yes, yes, Miguel!" You gasped out as your legs trembled in his hold. "Cum inside me, please, I want it!"

He grunted at your words, fucking you with a few more harsh thrusts before he suddenly pulled out. It took you a moment longer than normal for you to process the uncomfortable emptiness as he let go of one of your legs to quickly jerk himself off.

"What—No! Please, Miguel!" You pleaded uselessly, wincing when he tightened his grip on your thigh and unintentionally extended his talons. They penetrated through your clothes and pierced your skin, drawing a bit of blood, but that was neither of your concern at the moment.

"Ay, solo cállate ya,⁷" he growled, releasing your thigh to press his palm against your mouth to silence you. You let out pathetic whines and whimpers, but Miguel was focused on achieving his orgasm.

With a final few strokes, he finally came with a loud groan as his cum spurt onto the floor. He angled his hips to make sure none of it landed on you, much to your obvious dismay. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back and stared at your bound body, trembling and helpless. It was satisfying to see you in such a state.

He reactivated the hologram over his softening cock before binding your legs together in a way that hid the large hole in your pants to prevent anyone from figuring out what the two of you did.

He sighed heavily and slung you over his shoulder, standing up to look around and figure out where the fuck he was.

"You have a really nice ass," you commented after a moment, unable to keep your compliments to yourself.

He groaned. It was gonna be a long trip back to HQ.

Translations:

1: "I'm going to kill you!"

2: "Oh my god."

3: "Shut up!"

4: "Shit..."

5: "You like it when I treat you like you're nothing, don't you?"

6: "Stop lying to yourself and admit it."

7: "Oh, just shut up already."

cross-posted on ao3

[trashmouth-richie]

I feel like I’m really bad at prompts so I’m just gonna go with my “do’s” from costar today…

Stomping. Instant coffee. Cold* shower.

*“Cold” autocorrected to “come” and I almost didn’t fix it, soooo…do with that what you will.

OH MY LOVE.

hoping my slutty choices for this prompt find you well.

18+, no minors, acts of sex, yay.

**peep my little hints at 90s tv and movies—there are 4 🖤

<1k

send me a prompt from this post ! (writers block is killing me !)

Cold beads of water trickle like ice down your body. Making your already pert nipples stand at attention and harden in an instant. 

Cursing the boy you’ve been best friends with since diapers, you turn the faucet off in a quickened haste— exiting the tub in an anything but graceful fashion, stubbing your toes on the way out. 

“Eddie!” your shrill voice is clouded by the throbbing in your foot and the chatter in your teeth. “Did you pay the water bill?”  

One job, the menace had one job— one duty for the small shared apartment, and it was to pay the water bill each month. 

Wrapping yourself in a threadbare towel that had once been a swim towel for an uppity family— you stomp down to his bedroom, kicking open the door with enough rage to channel Jackie Chan.

You should have knocked. Fuck, why didn’t you knock? 

Eddie was naked.

Pale-moon colored ass on display. 

Thigh muscles rippled beneath dark patchwork tattoos, arms that never looked muscly suddenly flexed tight. A veiny hand wrapped tight around a black haired pony tail. Hips, his hips were— fucking, thrusting, pounding. 

His mouth was slack, slick like an oil painting, head back and eyes rolled to squinted ivory surrounded with a colossal woodland of thick lashes.

Sweat coated his brow, dribbling down until it collected on his cupids bow, a salty pooled tease. His rougey lips were spit coated, sheer— glossy— begging for your tongue to taste them. 

Your heart thumped loudly, heat in your core on its own tempo, hot and deep. 

And then you hear it. 

A whimper. Softer than silk, low, whiny, almost sweetly pathetic in its delivery from a deep space in his throat. 

Your cheeks warm, cunt heated like a fire, sirens going off for extreme temperatures. 

Oh—fuck.

His eyes meet yours and you hold his gaze for a second. The clouded look of a man being sucked dry took over his normal instant coffee colored irises. Glaucoma esque beauty in the dark swirls, and you wet your lips at the sight of him— at Eddie Munson— resident freak of Hawkins and your best friend. 

Jesus.

Both your lips explicitly mutter words with eyes wild doe like. His going from lazy pleasure to shock. Yours were covered with your palm, the other reaching, fumbling for the door knob. 

Apologizing profusely you suddenly stammer around clearing your throat and trying to leave ASAP. 

The towel around your middle, the only thing keeping you decent, glides to the ground—falling gently like that fucking feather in opening scenes of Forest Gump. Practically in slow motion but still too quick for your blind shut eyes to catch it. 

Fuck.

Pulling with both hands on the knob your heart races to shut the door, not registering that the towel is wedged tight between the frame, making it impossible to shut. 

Shit shitshitshitshitSHIT

With a last feeble attempt of yanking your arms, the latch clicks into place and you beeline to your room with a slam of your door so hard it ricocheted off the walls, making a framed picture of you and Eddie at a Metallica concert fall to the ground, shattering the glass.

What the fuck? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

Your heart boomed in your ears, back stuck to the door like you were holding it up. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Eddie naked, pretty sure your entire graduating class saw him naked on more than one occasion. But this?! This was so mouthwatering better than any other time. 

Goosebumps spread across your skin at the burned image of Eddie getting head on your retinas. The two of you had never crossed those lines. Each dating, fucking around it never once crossed your mind what he would be like in the sack, or what his sack would be like in your mouth. 

You’re pleased when you don’t cringe at the dirty thoughts of him— it felt like second nature, like eve seeing adam —lol okay maybe not, but still! What your mind was conjuring up was biblical. 

A giggle surpasses your lips and you wipe a line of drool from the corner of your mouth. Nerves finally settling as your realization hits— who was it?

It wasn’t Sarah, you hadn’t seen her since last fall. Eddie had said she started dating Steve—his comic book “arch nemesis” but in reality another bestie, who spent most of his time wallowing on your couch about Nancy than he did actually going on dates. 

Mary ended up being a virgin—preacher’s daughter, one of seven. He stopped seeing Clarissa after she wouldn’t stop over explaining every single minute detail of her day. Could it be the girl with the green leather jacket? Darla? Daria? 

The horny ache in your belly soured like curdled milk. 

How dare her (whoever she was!) The thought of someone other than you pulling those noises from Eddie suddenly set you on edge. Rage burned through your veins like lightning. Spidering and leeching to your skin. 

The pajamas you had taken off before your shower lay in a heap on your floor and you quickly yanked them on. Muttering to yourself about every vile thing you could imagine about whoever the lucky girl was who currently had a mouthful of your roommate. 

You needed to leave. The clouds of embarrassment eased overhead, colliding with the lightning making a storm brew deep beneath your surface and you be damned if you were going to let the rain fall whilst still in this apartment. 

Keys in your palm you throw open your bedroom door, ready to bolt through your apartment and down to your car— destination unknown. 

You nearly knock him over in your attempt to run. But you’re stopped cold by sweaty bangs, a heaving chest, and the same stupid pair of boxers that had small tears along the elastic from years of wear. 

“Sweetheart…” he coaxed, voice so sugary and laced with tiny shreds of venom it could ice a wedding cake— then strike you dead. 

You had seen plenty of Eddie today, your body screamed for you to leave, but your feet were stuck in the icing, waiting for the bomb to drop. 

Warmth from your cheeks from your shame could keep a trailer with broken windows warm in a blizzard—your stomach flipped— dropped like lead as his next words hit like a bullet. 

“We need to talk.” 

part two

steve tied up

[thezombieprostitute]

Dream Come True - Part 3

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

Warnings: Violence mentioned and referenced, not written. Insecure reader. Bullying with an emphasis on fat shaming. Please let me know if I miss any!

Part 2 -- Part 4

Series Masterlist

Ransom was not having a good day. Truth be told, he hadn't had a good day since Steve punched his stomach over a week ago. The writer's block had hit harder than usual. Many applicants for the Assistant position were garbage, completely upsetting his idea that you just needed to google the right answers.

He was starting to realize that Fatso, as he had taken to calling her in his head, was able to help him through his writing blocks because she had the context of the other questions, some rough draft information, and she'd include ways to use her research into the story. Maybe he just needed to actually hire someone from the "competent" file and try from there?

Problem was, time was an issue. His writer's block had kicked in hard and his publisher was getting more impatient about updates. He spent so much time just staring at his computer.

He was startled out of his contemplation by a phone call. If it was his publisher he'd just ignore it but the Caller ID showed "Steve Rogers".

Ransom answered, "Rogers! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Where the hell are you Drysdale?" Steve was quiet growling into the phone. Indicating he was around others.

"What do you mean?"

"The damned Stark party? Raising funds for Rhodes's campaign?!" Ransom could swear he heard Steve's teeth grinding. "You're supposed to be here chatting with Mrs. Devereaux. Buttering her up to at least not donate to Wilford?!"

"Shit," Ransom jumped up and ran towards his closet. "Tell her I'll be there in 20 minutes. If she needs an excuse, I was writing up a storm. I'll make it up to her by naming a character after her or something."

"Just. Get. Here." Steve hung up.

Yeah, Ransom was not having a good day.

Your life was returning to some sense of normalcy. The crutches were a pain but, thankfully, you didn't have a lot of places to go. You wanted to get back to working as quickly as you could, if only to feel like you were actually earning some of the money you'd been given.

But you'd kept your promise to be safe, and allow yourself to heal. You did your best to keep within the movement restrictions you were given. Part of you was still waiting for that hospital bill. Yes, Curtis, Dr. Beck, even Jake and Jefferson all said it was taken care of but part of you still waited for that dreaded notice of nonpayment.

Thankfully the cybercafe wasn't too far and you were able to convince the J's (as they told you to call them) that it was the perfect distance for your needed exercise and movement and you'd sit at the cafe long enough to rest for the return trip. You were happy to get back to tutoring the girls in the afternoons. Your mornings were spent applying for other jobs.

One morning your applications were interrupted by Jake.

"Hey, Y/N, this is Hal," Jake gestured to the handsome, shirt-haired man, wearing a too small shirt, next to him. "He's here to work with you towards getting his GED.”

"Oh, yes," you perk up. "Curtis mentioned another possible student." You reach out your hand and Hal, grinning even wider, shakes it.

"It's mighty kind of you to agree to this," he began. "I've been meaning to fill in that gap on my resume for some time.”

"Well I'm happy to help you with that. Please, have a seat so we can get started?”

Hal pulls out the nearest chair and turns it so that he sits on it backwards, his muscly arms resting on the back of the chair.

"So, is this a time that works for you," you ask. "I've got a pretty open schedule so your time preferences are get priority.”

"Well," he hesitates, "my schedule is pretty all-over-the-place. Is there any chance we could take it a week at a time?”

"Sure," you affirm. "As long as you give me notice so I'm not sitting here doing nothing.”

"Yes, ma'am," Hal nods. "I'm not in the habit of leaving pretty girls wanting." He gives a wink but you drop your eyes and sigh.

"Hal," you scold. "I'm going to guess you're the type to hit on anything that breathes?”

Clearly taken aback by your tone Hal straightens in his seat. "No," he denies. "Maybe. I swear I was just trying to compliment you.”

You pause your comeback and take a deep breath instead. "I suppose there is a difference," you concede. “Just please be careful with both of those around me. I am not a "pretty girl" and I do not appreciate being addressed as such.”

Hal's eyebrows furrow in confusion so you continue, "let's just keep the compliments related to our work? Please? I'd always prefer being smart or nice to being pretty." You give him a small smile and he visibly relaxes.

"Sure thing, Teach," he says. "So, where should we start?”

Curtis was cleaning up the interrogation room after Barnes and Fowler's latest “message” to Rumlow’s crew. They had already taken the body to drop it off on Rumlow's front door, Curtis would make sure all evidence was removed from the room. It was ugly work but maybe, just maybe, Rumlow would stop trying to push his drugs and thugs in their territory.

He was finishing up when he got a text from Jefferson saying Hal’s first session went well. He normally doesn't need these kinds of updates from the legitimate side of things but he found himself rather invested in your progress. You were unusual. A puzzle he wanted to figure out.

Or so he kept telling himself to explain why he was thinking about you so much. You’d shown yourself to be sweet and patient with others but he remembers the fire with which you spoke to him. He almost felt like a moth drawn to your light but he had to keep himself in check. For now it was enough to know you were doing well and helping his family.

At least until he got the follow up text from Jefferson saying, “Ran is looking for Teach. Ok to share info?”

Curtis felt his jaw tighten. The pompous ass had fired someone for taking a bullet. He didn't want him anywhere near you. He was sure you wouldn't want to see Ransom, either. Jake had told him you'd blocked your former boss’s number and his emails would go straight to spam. He texted back a simple “no.” Let the asshole suffer.

Part 2 -- Part 4

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[7-wonders]

Between Wrath and Mercy

Sith!Ankain Skywalker x Rebel!reader (gender-neutral)

Summary: Finding yourself in a fight with Darth Maul, you quickly realize that you're way out of your depth. Unfortunately, no one's coming to save you. Aha, unless?

Word Count: 2.0k

A note from the author: Remember how I was like, "I'm having a lot of trouble writing the words aren't coming like they used to"? I think this helped to unclog a bit of the writer's block I've had. Maybe I just need to write for a different fandom for a bit. This takes place in my Rebel!reader fic-verse (gender-neutral reader!), but before What You Stand to Lose. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round (especially the latter two), and I hope you enjoy!

How do I keep ending up in situations like this? you wonder as you dodge yet another Sith Lord’s lightsaber strike and immediately counter it with your own.

That’s a stupid question, because you know how. You decided to join the Rebel Alliance, to fight for a noble cause, and now your life is pretty consistently put in mortal danger. Still, when a mission to try and convince the head of Crimson Dawn that you were all fighting for the same goal was proposed, you were the first to volunteer. Maybe it’s a desperation to prove yourself as useful that made you do it, or maybe you need to remind yourself that you’re working for something good. Regardless, you had been stupid and self-assured, enough so that General Kessyk had given you a small team to command and sent you on your way to Corellia.

Said small team is now incapacitated, rendered useless almost the moment you had ambushed the Crimson Dawn leader who had turned out to be none other than Darth Maul—a surprise to you all, since Dryden Voss is the public face of the syndicate. This revelation completely turned your game plan on its head, as you’re now left to face his wrath alone.

And he has a lot of wrath.

“Look, if you would just listen for a moment,” you yell at him over the sound of electricity humming, “I think you would see that we all want the same thing!”

“And what thing is that?” Darth Maul snarls, raising his blade above his head and attempting to crash it down on top of you.

You meet it with your own, gritting your teeth under the strain as you attempt to hold him back. “The end of the Galactic Empire!”

He bears down harder in response, and your arms begin to shake. Knowing when to give up some yield is half the success in battle, so you adjust your strategy and drop to your knees, doing a quick roll to get some space in between you. He turns to face you once more, his yellow eyes so filled with hatred that it makes a frightened whimper get stuck in your throat.

“Please, we only came to talk. We can be allies!” you plead.

“What happens after the Empire is defeated? We part on good terms and go our separate ways?” Maul shakes his head, twirling his saber and stalking towards you. “No. At the end of the day, the Sith will always be an enemy. I will always be an enemy.”

“I’m sure that—woah!” He renews his attacks with vigor, clearly done talking. Unfortunately for him, you’re not done. “I’m sure that the Rebel Alliance would be happy to negotiate some sort of treaty.”

“I have had enough of arrogant little Force users thinking that they can change the galaxy with ‘the power of goodness,’” he mocks. “You are not the first to approach me with your misguided ideals.”

Maul kicks the center of your chest and sends you falling to the ground, a position you never want to find yourself in when fighting for your life. Attempting to scramble backward is made extra difficult with the lightsaber in your hand, and it’s only delaying the inevitable as Maul follows you slowly, a predator stalking his prey. With a firm smack, your saber goes flying out of your reach.

He holds his lightsaber to your chest and smirks down at you as it burns a hole through the fabric of your shirt. “But you will be the last.”

You raise both hands up in a last-ditch plea, though you know it’s for naught. This is it. You’ve lost. You’ll become just another name on the long list of lives lost as sacrifices for the fight for a better tomorrow.

Though you’d like to say that a sense of peace comes over you as you stare your impending death in the eyes, that’s not the case. You’re scared out of your mind, actually, and the only thing comforting you is the fact that it’ll be a quick death. With that in mind, you close your eyes and await the inevitable.

But the inevitable never comes. Where you were expecting pain and darkness, there’s simply darkness from screwing your eyes shut. After a couple of long moments, you hesitantly open your eyes. Darth Maul no longer looms over you. Instead, he’s a few feet away, engaged in battle with someone else.

“It was foolish of me to believe that Kenobi could actually finish the job and successfully kill somebody for once,” he spits, twirling his saber in his hand as another red saber clashes with his.

“You said it, not me!”

Belatedly, you realize that you know that cocky, annoying voice. Sure enough, Darth Vader is now Darth Maul’s opponent, and he’s faring much better than you had. His helmet is off, allowing you to see the arrogant grin he’s sporting, and his blond curls fly around his face as he swings his lightsaber through the air.

“Vader?” you call, still feeling like your eyes are deceiving you. 

He looks over at you, his grin somehow getting bigger. “C’mon, get up and help me out!”

You stumble to your feet and call your lightsaber back to your hand using the Force, but remain back. Vader doesn’t need your help, because he’s very clearly winning. You would only be a hindrance if you were to join, so instead, you watch.

Even if you didn’t know that the two Sith lords had been trained for a very long time, their fighting styles would make it obvious. The way that they move, so fluidly and deadly, is an art form. It almost looks like a dance, if a dance could end in somebody’s death.

“Darth Sidious won’t be pleased when he finds out you’re helping out the Rebel Alliance,” Darth Maul taunts, bending over backward to avoid a swing.

Darth Vader curses at the near-miss. “Oh, but I’m not.”

“Then what do you call this?”

He looks over his shoulder and winks at you. “Helping the one particular Rebel that I have a vested interest in.”

“Pathetic!” Darth Maul spits.

Vader’s lightsaber makes contact with the palm of Maul’s hand, and he yells out in pain. He catches his saber with his other hand before it can fall to the ground, but he’s unable to grip it with both hands now. Though he could fight one-handed, against somebody as talented as Darth Vader, he wouldn’t be very successful. The light from his saber disappears as he extinguishes it, giving one curt nod before he backs off.

“This is not the end,” he promises.

“No, I don’t believe it is.”

Though Vader could very easily finish him, there are rules to a battle. When one willingly concedes, the fight is over, no matter how much the other wishes that it wasn’t. You and Vader both watch as Maul makes it to his ship and escapes, flying high above your heads and away from Corellia.

Vader turns his attention to you, wrapping his large hands around your upper arms and looking you up and down. “Are you alright?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“You were the one about to die.”

“I had it under control,” you claim, even though you very much did not have it under control. “And I didn’t need you to save me.”

“Oh, you didn’t? That’s not what it looked like to me.” 

His fingers move to the open hole in your shirt left by Maul’s lightsaber above your heart. The skin there is shiny from a light burn—it’s nothing that will hinder you in the long run, but it does sting a bit, especially when Vader lightly touches this wound. You hiss through your teeth, but he doesn’t move.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” he notes, his voice soft from concentration.

Your cheeks burn at this because you know there are a couple of reasons for your racing heart, and only one of them is from the exertion of battle. Wiggling your hands up, you get enough of a space that you can lightly push yourself away from Vader.

“What are you—how did you know that I would be here?” you demand, having been under the assumption that everybody had done very well in making sure this was a top-secret mission.

“We received some intel that the Rebel Alliance would be making a rather stupid attempt at reaching out to Crimson Dawn. I was going to just let Maul have at it, but then I thought, ‘What are the odds that my Rebel would be involved in this?’”

“I am not your Rebel.” The way that he looks at you, like you mean something to him, makes your heart clench in a way that you don’t want to consider right now. Onto the next subject, then. “Why did you help me in the first place? You could have let him kill me. You should have let him kill me, actually. Would have saved you a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t want you dead.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course, you just want me to join you and go against every one of my morals.”

“I still have morals, Rebel. If you were willing to listen, to be open-minded, I think you’d find that the Dark Side is not evil. Where the Light Side wanted their Jedi to shirk all of their emotions and attachments, the Dark Side encourages those emotions. Anger, sadness, passion…love. Sith believe in a world where we’re all free to feel what we want, to allow that which scares us to be out in the open so that we may overpower it. You can’t tell me that this sounds evil.”

You remain silent, because you don’t know what to think. With how Vader puts it, the Dark Side doesn’t sound all evil. Actions speak louder than words, however, and you’ve seen the terror and devastation that the Empire and the Dark Side have unleashed on the galaxy. You’re not willing to dwell on it right now (or ever, really; just thinking about the possibility of Vader’s words having some validity makes you feel like you’re betraying the Rebel Alliance), so you force it to the back of your mind and refuse to think about it any longer.

“Well, I think my work here is done,” Vader declares with a sigh, clipping his saber back onto his belt.

You look at him in confusion. “Wait, you’re not…going to force me to be your apprentice? I mean, now’s kind of the perfect time.” You don’t want him to do so, but you were sure you knew what his end goal was, since he’s made it clear every other time you’ve encountered him.

“It is,” he agrees. “But I’ve decided that it does no good to have you join me against your will. When the time comes, you’ll give yourself to me—to the Dark Side willingly.”

He sounds so sure of this, like it’s a foregone conclusion. You’re about to argue, to insist once more that you’ll never join him, when you hear groaning behind you.

“Looks like your crew is starting to come to,” Vader notes. “I’ll see you soon.”

You don’t doubt that, but you won’t let him know that. “I sure hope not.”

He laughs, already walking to his own ship. “Make sure to get that burn checked out so that it doesn’t get infected!” he yells to you.

The groaning gets louder before you can tell him to not tell you what to do, and somebody calls your name sluggishly. Your pilot is trying to roll over onto his hands and knees, and the others aren’t far behind him in waking up. You get ready to help, as all good Rebels do—because that’s what you are, someone good and helpful and nothing at all like the Sith Lord that increasingly occupies your thoughts as of late.

You’re not like him, you tell yourself, and you’ll do everything in your power to ensure that you won’t ever be like him.

[thebellearchives]

hi there, i'm new to your blog. would you consider fluff 18 for sukuna?

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐘

~ ryomen sukuna ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : you’ve been stuck on a bad moment of your life for a while, thankfully someone comes along to break that monotony

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : fem!reader, non-curse!au, sukuna has his own body but is still described with yuuji’s physical appearance, slightly suggestive, fluff, consumption of alcohol, weapons (reader almost gets mugged)

‧₊˚ a / n : hi anon! i hope you’re still around 😭?! writer’s block’s been kicking my ass lately so i hope this didn’t turn out too bad (once again did not proofread) ): enjoy the reading ~

You told yourself over and over again: going through a rough patch in your life is normal. It will pass. But this one rough patch seemed to be turning into a particularly long one. Loneliness was the worst part, but you also knew you didn’t want to have anyone around either, so you started going out alone. Going to the movies alone, going to coffee shops alone, even started frequenting this one bar. It was a pretty establishment, fancy but not too much, people generally minded their own business and the music was just perfect, at a certain point you even wondered if they had been playing songs directly from your playlist. Nights at the bar were nice, sipping on your favourite drink and enjoying the music, nothing out of the ordinary ever happened… until it did.

Not like it was usual for you to get hung up on guys at first sight, but the sound of his voice on a thursday night set butterflies loose inside you. He was taller than you, a handsome smirk danced playfully on his lips, tattoos covered the visible skin of his arms as disappeared under a black shirt that stuck to him like a second skin. Curves of muscle decorated his torso and his arms, and he was talking to you. Dark crimson eyes staring right back at you, the smell of his cologne enticed you the moment you perceived it. Sparks between both of you were instantaneous. Confident, almost arrogant, flirtatious comments from him made of that night one you wouldn’t forget for the next years. So when it was time to leave you decided to not say much, kept your address a secret, leaving on your own and saying you might see each other again in a stupid attempt at keeping some kind of mystery.

“I’ll be looking forward to it sugar” he leaned back into the wall as he watched you leave with a smug smile.

And so you returned the next thursday, and once again you both ended up in the dark alleyway next to the bar’s back door. You left with tingling lips and teeth marks. And then the next thursday, those marks had started traveling lower, jaw, the crook of your neck, even your shoulders. The little affair had your head turning in circles, the way his strong arms held your melting figure so firmly, his intense irises making your body shake, that damn smirk of his that spiked your heart rate. So the next thursday your decided to let your fingers linger on top of his hands and pull him playfully away from your hiding place. You tried to lead him towards your apartment, the sweet taste of alcohol and his mouth lingering on your tongue. Unfortunately, it didn’t go as planned.

Something cold and pointy was placed against your lower back, almost piercing fabric and threatening to injure your skin. You almost swore all your drinks evaporated from your bloodstream in an instant, suddenly going cold and a chill running throughout you.

“Tough luck pretty girl, give me that purse of yours and i might think about letting you go unharmed” a voice came up from behind you, tour breath got stuck in your throat.

“What’d you say, scum?” the moment your lover came closer and the street lamp’s illuminated his figure the blade faltered, the man took a step back.

Sukuna pulled you out of the way by your arm and you quickly moved away to step behind him, your eyes finally meeting the stranger who had just tried to rob you. The tingling of the sharp dagger falling to the floor was followed by the dull thud of his chest hitting the wall, Sukuna held him there from his shirt, his shoes almost didn’t touch the ground.

“Wait! I didn’t- It wasn’t my intention to-”

“It wasn’t your intention to hurt her? Then what was that pathetic bad quality dagger doing pressed against her back, you lowlife?”

Your shocked eyes could only stare at the scene unfolding in front of you. Part of you wanted to stop him, fearing whatever could happen next if his anger kept rising, but another part of you demanded to see the man get the punishment he deserved. Thankfully you didn’t have to make a decision, because with a displeased expression on his face Sukuna relaxed the grip on his shirt until the robber was able to feel the floor underneath him once again, pupils blown and gasping for air.

“You’re lucky I don’t think the lady should watch this, but if i see you again…”

“You won’t! You won’t”

He didn’t add anything else, but swung the man from his shirt and tossed him towards the street. Stumbling, he struggled to stand on both his feet again, but quickly ran away, not looking back. Still shocked at everything that had just happened and with your heart pumping quicker than ever, you watched him run away, until Sukuna’s voice brought you back down to earth.

“Are you alright?” he walked up to you inquisitively, your eyes snapped back to his.

“Yes. Yeah I’m fine” with a sigh you walked up to him to bury yourself into his arms and chest, he held you there firmly “I’m fine thanks to you”

Sukuna held you close, one of his hands cradling your head and threading fingers into your hair.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I just… feel calmer when I'm with you”

[sparrowrye]

A Little Something….

Update + Snippet

Greetings my little devils. Thank you, as always, for being so persistent in your patience with me! I’m hitting quite the writer’s block as I start the transition between DEMI DEMON and a new Alastor x Reader story.

It’s a late Spring cleaning for us! Expect pinned posts to be rewritten, new pinned ones to come out (super excited about some of these), and a few polls about the current or new story.

Part 15: boiling blood is half written and boy is it spicy 🌶️ I’ll update you when I’m close to posting it

As a little gift for your patience, here’s a snippet I wrote awhile back. It was the first part of a random story I had and the inspiration came from these images (at the bottom) on Pinterest - my unhealthy addiction

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My hands gripped the edges of the stone sink as I sucked in a shaky breath. My legs were ready to give out at any moment. My recent patient nearly died and it had taken nearly all my energy to bring him back from the land of the dead. He was a fighter and his memories alone were enough of suck the very life out of my lungs; memories that were familiar to me.

I splashed my face with the ice cold water before I could trail down that dark path. My bones ached, a migraine pressed at the front of my head, and my throat was horribly dry. I gulped down several mouthfuls of water before looking at myself in the mirror.

My eyes were red and chronic dark circles under my eyes dragged my skin down. I looked half dead, which to be fair, wasn't really far from the truth. I grabbed the small towel and dried my face. I kept it pressed against my eyes, enjoying the only clean and sand-free thing I owned.

When I looked back in the mirror, hoping to see a slight improvement in my features, I noticed a dark figure in the doorway.

I spun, hand extended. A silver blade flew from my sleeve and buried its tip in the stone. I instantly recognized the tall ears, skinny cane, and red coat. His lips pulled back to reveal a yellow-teeth smile. His head remained still as his eyes glanced over at the knife a few inches from his face.

"Was that out of respect or inaccuracy?" he asked.

"What do you think?" I lowered my hand and took two steps back.

"Good to see you haven't lost your touch." His sharp claws tapped his cane one at a time. He brought a hand up to examine the knife still buried three-quarters of the way in the stone. He recognized the art of the handle. "Or my gift."

"Weapons aren't allowed in this settlement," I justified. "It's the only one I have." I mentally kicked myself. I had just admitted to being defenseless.

He grabbed the handle and pried it out of the wall with one swift pull. He examined the blade in his hand, glancing up to look at me briefly through his red hair. Had it gotten darker? "Come, dear," he curled the knife in his hand and turned away, "we have much to discuss."

I clenched my hands into fists at my side. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"We're not going anywhere," he said over his shoulder so nonchalantly, "but it's rude not to entertain a guest. Especially at such a late hour." I followed to the entrance of my room and watched him lean against the wall closest to the stove. "You remember how I like my coffee."

"At such a late hour?" I mocked, taking only a few steps from my room.

"I have business to attend to at the Hive. Traveling at all hours of the day gets us there sooner." His eyes glanced briefly at the stove as an incentive.

I swallowed on nothing. "I'm not going to entertain you after you nearly killed me and Creo when we escaped." The memory of my brother and I trying to make our escape had always burned in the back of my mind.

Alastor gave a fake gasp, still sporting his stupid smile, and put a hand on his chest. "I did not try to kill you..." His smile molded into a smirk. "That was the attempt before your successful one."

"We almost died on that cliff!" I took a daring step forward.

He shrugged and put both hands on his cane, swiveling it around in front of him. He cocked his head to the side. "It did what I wanted. You broke your foot and couldn't attempt it again for weeks."

My voice dropped an octave. "You did more than just break my foot while I was stuck with you."

"May we have this conversation over coffee? I am so very tired and we have much to discuss." He lifted the knife from his cane and spun it once in his fingers, eyes glancing sideways at me. I knew what he was implying.

I pulled in a deep breath then I crossed the room to start the coffee. The embers in the stove were enough for the dry weeds to catch flame. I closed the metal door and brought out the coffee pot. I dropped the powder in and put it on the stone plate over the fire.

"What do you want?" I asked, turning to lean against the adjacent wall so I could have him in my full sights. My arms crossed my chest protectively.

"Tell me about this life of yours." He gestured to the small cave.

"It's simple and perfect. Wouldn't want to ever leave it."

"Why's that? Surely you're bored here."

My heart was beating in my ears now. "I'm not leaving. And neither is Creo."

"Quit being so defensive, my dear." He pushed off the wall and swung his arms dramatically. "We are merely two acquaintances catching up after a seven year parting."

I couldn't abate the nausea that was creeping into my throat. I was so nervous it was making me sick. "Is that we are?"

"You don't believe so?"

"'I am the master and you the servant. Heed my words carefully,'" I repeated the phrase that had haunted me for years.

"I recall saying that within the first year of you joining me," he sounded unfazed. "Our dynamic changed as the years went on."

"Careful, Alastor," I dared to say his name in such a casual manner, "someone might think we're lovers."

He closed his eyes with a soft chuckle. Being lovers had been insinuated by the warriors after my first two years with him. He had always kept me at his side and put aside time to find ways to enhance my magic or my vision seeking. It had never been anything more than rumors. Eventually they were silenced when Husker, the captain, earned enough credit among the ranks for them to believe him when he said Alastor and I were master and student, not lovers.

When Alastor opened his eyes again they were already looking at me. "I must say, I do enjoy seeing this new you. Not as timid and afraid as you once were." It took him three steps to cross the small kitchen and stand an inch from me. He towered above me like he always had, making me shrink under his daunting shadow.

"W-well, I've grown," I replied. "Seven years can do a lot for someone." I leaned against the poorly melded counter, nails scraping the stone on either side of my hip. His familiar, overpowering scent of smoke and incest filled my nose. It made the world kilter to one side.

"Indeed it does. Perhaps you will hear me out then." He leaned down so our faces were inches apart. My back was hurting from bending it so far over the counter in an attempt to keep the distance. I casted my eyes down at my hands on the edge of the counter, at my shirt, at anything other than him.

A blade snapped up in my vision. I let out a gasp as the edge barely caught my nose. Cold claws grabbed my wrist and wrenched it off the counter. His red, beady eyes stared back at me, focusing less on the knife and more on my eyes. It was hard to breathe.

The knife dropped into the palm of my hand and I flinched. My eyes darted down to the weapon as he gradually moved closer, red hair brushing against my cheek. What was he going to do? I've seen him rip someone's ear off before. Nothing but red filled my vision as he pressed me further into the counter. His breath was hot on my ear.

"The coffee is boiling."

He abruptly straightened up and took a single step back. I sucked in fresh air, eyes jumping from him to the kettle. The sight of the brown liquid spilling on the hot stone pulled me out of my daze. I grabbed the pot and put it on a single plate full of cold sand to keep it from toppling over. I slipped the knife into my sleeve holster and brushed past him to grab a mug, careful not to actually touch him. I drew in another deep breath.

The kitchenware was stored in a cabinet further from the stove, also dug into the rock. We had only two mugs - for two people. They were probably the finest, straightest thing we owned. They were a cool, maroon color and had a wide base.

I grabbed the two mugs and poured a full cup in one and half in the other. I made sure to use the non-chipped mug for him. When I turned to hand it to him, he had already seated himself at the living room table. His legs were folded neatly under him and his staff resting not too far. I hated when he moved silently - it was unsettling.

Biting the inside of my lip, I passed over to the carpeted area and placed the mug in front of him. His eyes examined the simple mug before bringing it to his lips, taking a long inhale of the steam. His eyes flicked up to mine as I pretended to take a sip of my own cup.

"Your taste in coffee has sweetened," he remarked into the mug, finally tasting it.

"Creo doesn't like the dark brand you drink."

"But you do."

"Not anymore." I placed the warm mug on the table and leaned on my elbows. I pressed my hands against the hog mug in an effort to keep myself from fidgeting.

"Your elbows, dear," he corrected.

I had half the mind to ignore him but the last thing I needed was to give him a reason to be angry or annoyed. The uneasy feeling in my stomach grew as I pulled my elbows off the table and tapped a finger against the clay cup.

"Why are you here?"

"I told you," he glanced at me briefly over the rim of the mug, "I have an audience with Lucifer in the Hive."

"No. Why are you here? It's not like you to be away from the front lines and when you do you're quick to get back. So why bother stopping in a small, unimportant village?"

His smile quirked to the side. He placed the mug down, using his pinky finger to keep it from hitting the table too hard, mostly out of sheer habit since the table was covered in rugs and wool.

"Perceptive, as always." He placed his hands in his lap, back straight and manners reigned in perfectly. "Well, my dear, I had a vision of this very conversation. I planned my route to the Hive and stopped only at the nearest villages that I knew had their residents living in stone."

A vision. How developed was that skill, now? He had them quite often when I was with him but now it's been seven years. Surely he developed that skill exponentially. Is that why he hadn't flinched when I threw my knife?

"Most villages live in stone," I said, unsure of what to say.

"Not anymore, my dear. They have no need to be with the Humans securely behind Sharptooth's pass."

"Then why look for me? Why waste your time going to villages to find me? Surely you've already found a replacement healer for your army. That wouldn't be very smart of you if you hadn't."

"Indeed I did." He lifted the mug to drink again. He must be pretty tired if he's drinking sweet coffee.

"So then why are you here talking to me?" I asked again. He took his time, eyes closed as he drank the thick coffee, and let the silence hold over our heads. I could remember how uncomfortable it once made me when he created prolonged silence. I felt it creeping back into my bones, struggling to shove it down and stare at him until he was ready to speak again.

Finally he lowered the mug. His claws stayed wrapped around the handle as he placed it on the table. "I had not intended for you to stay away for so long. My spy's past caught up to him and died on his mission to follow you. I intend to bring you back."

There it is. I knew what he wanted but hearing him say it still hit me like a train. My hands pressed into the mug so hard that I worried it might crack and shatter. Fear gripped my shoulders and held my spine in place. His eyes stayed firmly locked with mine as I struggled to find my words. I had to pry my eyes away from his and stare down at the dark liquid.

But did he say...

He had let me stay away? Did that mean he had let me escape on purpose? How long was he planning to let me try to make a life on my own before roping me back in? Who had been the spy?

"I will not be going back with you," I said slowly. It felt like I was standing in the center of a metal rabbit trap, the claws ready to snap up and decapitate me. "I fought tooth and nail for this life, for Creo. You won't take it from us."

He let out a sigh, his smile still pressed in his cheeks. "Is it really one you wish to risk your safety, your brother's safety, over?"

"Yes."

"Why?" He tilted his head so his ears waved. He lifted the mug to his lips again, eyes never once leaving mine. He sounded genuinely interested in my answer.

My palms turned up to the ceiling, mouth moving but no words coming out. How could he be serious? My life was hell with him and his army. He knew how to twist my thoughts around so I went the other route. "Creo's life isn't being threatened. He's not at risk for dying from a Human attack. And he's not being influenced by the tough, respect-less army lifestyle.”

"You view it as respect-less?" He sounded surprised, curious even, at the term.

"Among each other," I revised, "I don't want him adopting their behavior." My back was starting to hurt.

"He is not six years old anymore," he lowered the mug just enough to say his part, "he's now, what, fourteen?”

"Sixteen," I answered. "Still an impressionable age."

"Most people his age have their occupation or are married. It appears he has found his occupation." He glanced around at the various gadgets and inventions littering the place.

"He's finishing his childhood since he didn't have one."

"He's a man, my dear, no longer a boy."

"My answer is no. We are not coming with you."

He placed the mug down. "Then leave him. I only need you."

"We don't separate."

He broke his manners by placing his elbow on the table and leaning his chin on the back of his hand.  "You realize you are the one who makes these things difficult? I am not to blame anymore."

"We are not going with you," I punctuated each word. "You will have to drag me by my teeth." Even as I said it, I wish I hadn't. I knew he would do it if it came to that. He wasn't above anything.

"How unfortunate." He grabbed his staff and stood. I was faster, on my feet in an instant and ready for him to do something dangerous. "You've lost your good manners in my absence."

He looked to the front door as two men burst through it, dragging Creo's hissing form. They were dressed in red and both held a struggling arm. One of them had a tight grip on the back of his neck. Creo dug his feet into the ground and tried to wrench himself free.

The men forced him onto his knees and the one man pulled on his hair so he was forced to look up at Alastor. The Demon took a single stride to stand above him. "My my, you've grown quite a lot," he crossed his arms and leaned heavily on his red cane, "You were barely past my knees last I saw you. Do you remember me?"

"Should I?" Creo hissed when the man pulled tighter on his hair.

"Indeed. That burn mark on the back of your neck is my crest." He reached a single claw around to press on the spot under his long hair. Creo's eyes fell to me. "You belong to me."

"He doesn't know how to fight like your warriors," I said, voice echoing too loudly off the walls. Alastor straightened up and turned his head just enough to look at me out the corner of his eye. "He has no use for your army."

"No use? I see a bright mind eager to explore his skills and limitations." He looked at the random metal objects and inventions lying around the cave. "I could easily provide materials and guidance to a gifted inventor."

"Neither of us are going with you." It didn't sound as firm as I wanted.

His eyes found mine. "I am gracing you with one more opportunity, meerkat," he used the condescending nickname. "Return with me willingly and I ensure Creo stays out of my ranks and out of harm's way. If I have to...drag you back by your teeth...he will remain on the front lines." He leaned his cane sideways and watched, waited, for my answer.

Why hadn't I received a vision about this? I had lost touch with that skill since leaving Alastor but surely my mind would've predicted this? Would've saved me? Yet I had no vision. I was standing before Alastor and about to determine how my life, and Creo's, would go. Why could I never keep either of us safe? Why was it so hard to keep our lives secure? To give us a normal life?

Alastor was uprooting us. We had found a place to let our roots grow but he was pulling us up as if the soil had been sand this whole time. He was taking us away from a shady, moist area and placing us in a plant pot in the middle of the desert.

I didn't know how to feel. I was at a complete loss. My heart felt like it had been wrenched out. I had believed wholeheartedly that I had managed to evade him, to finally outsmart him and hide away. Our city was far from the front lines and he had no reason to be so far back into Duner territory. It was thanks to his audience with the King that he had found me.

"What do you say, my dear?" He stepped closer and the sound of his cane tapping the stone sounded like a key locking the cage door.

There was no debate. Alastor had spent half his life fighting, meaning I wouldn't be able to beat him in a one on one fight. Even if I had a chance, I didn't want to bank Creo's safety on it. If I fought Alastor and lost, he would put Creo on the front lines. I may never see him again. I lowered my head, staring at the tip of his black boots.

"Okay."

"What was that?" He took another step forward. It felt like the corners of the room were darkening.

"I will go with you."

He stepped closer still, claw coming up to push my chin up. His red face was clouding my entire vision and his canine teeth poked out of his lips in an ugly smirk.

"Willingly?" he pressed.

"Yes," I clenched my teeth in a snarl but it was far from one. He raised his eyebrows and examined my face with half lidded, knowing eyes. My lips closed over my teeth. "Yes, Alastor."

He hummed in satisfaction. "Come dear, show me that lovely smile. You know you're never fully dressed without one!"

[roosterbox]

Hey.

Psst. Hey. Hey!

Guess what?

It’s a special day today. How special, you might ask?

Oh, only the birthday of a certain @a-forger-and-a-point-man ! Woohoo!

Happy birthday ❤️❤️❤️

Also I wrote you a thing. Sorry if it’s sloppy - I had to do very quick work on it before the writer’s block kicked back in, lol. I think it came out pretty alright.

Tags: fluff, schmoop, baked goods? More like baked bads, love is stored in the attempt not the end result, nonbinary Eames using they/them pronouns, light references to future sexytimes, a single line of a hint of Eames wearing lingerie

———

Arthur comes home to the dulcet tones of metal crashing and muffled cursing. In any other circumstance, such a thing would have him drawing his gun, but he decides to trust his instincts on this one. Said instincts are telling him to remain calm. That everything is fine. Not normal necessarily, but fine. So his gun remains holstered at his hip as he makes his way inside.

He finds the cause in relatively short order. His kitchen, very recently completely remodeled, has seen better days. Various bowls and mixers lie strewn about on the counter. Cabinets are seemingly opened hither and thither arbitrarily. As if someone hadn’t been quite sure what they were looking for, or where, and they couldn’t be bothered to close anything behind them. His nostrils flare at the faintly scorched aroma of something being baked for a bit too long.

It didn’t take much to figure out what it was.

In the center of this disaster area stood Eames. Lovely, flour-covered Eames, currently locked in intense concentration as they put the finishing frosting touches on a cake set on the kitchen’s cleanest counter. They’re focusing so hard on their task, tongue slightly poking out and everything, that they have yet to notice Arthur’s arrival. There’s a metal cooling rack on the floor at their feet, which was undoubtedly the clanging sound from earlier. Eames was even wearing the silly apron Arthur had gifted them a few years prior. (“I saw it and thought of you,” he had said, presenting his partner with the frilly, pink gingham monstrosity. “I love it,” Eames responded, in a way that was equal parts in on the joke and completely sincere.) Seeing them in it now, Arthur finds himself loving it too.

He clears his throat.

Eames startles, jumping back a little. An extra dollop of cool blue frosting drips out of their piping bag onto the cake.

“Darling! You’re uh-“ Eames looks a little nervous. “-home early.”

“And you’ve been busy.” He makes a show of looking at the clutter surrounding them. “What have you been doing?”

His partner blushed. “Oh you know. Things.” They say this, playing coy as if there isn’t a whole frosted cake sitting right there in the open.

“Things.” Arthur steps further into the kitchen. He toys with the idea of feigning ignorance a bit more, but it’s been a long day. So instead, he shifts his attention to the cake-shaped elephant in the room. “‘Things,’ I presume?”

“Oh, this?” Eames chuckles awkwardly. It fizzles out too quickly though. “… yeah.”

They’re so uncharacteristically nervous that it’s starting to worry him. Generally, Eames’ confidence knows absolutely no bounds, even when they’re doing something they’ve never attempted before. If Eames was nervous enough for it to be this obvious…

Arthur gestures at the cake. “For me?”

Eames meets his gaze, worrying their plush lower lip between their teeth. “For you,” they confirm. “Happy birthday, my love.”

All at once, Arthur’s heart feels warm. If it hadn’t been for Kyle and Sophie at work pitching in to buy him lunch, he might have forgotten what day it was himself. It was nothing special, he might have argued. No one cares much about turning 38, after all. It’s not a big milestone like 30 or 40.

Eames, however, never forgot anything. Especially anything about Arthur.

Eames also, interestingly enough, doesn’t bake much. The lingering smell of burning leads Arthur to the one obvious conclusion about the cake between them… and the source of Eames’ nerves.

He smiles. “You didn't need to-“

Eames shakes their head. “I wanted to. Needed an excuse to stretch my legs in here, after all.”

“Mmhmm. And did stretching your legs have to involve opening all these cabinets?” He tries to keep his tone light. He’s not actually mad or put out at all, not with the evidence of Eames’ love and care sitting right in front of him.

From the grin Eames flashes, he was successful. “I wasn’t sure where you moved things to since last time.”

A likely story. Arthur gently closes the cupboard nearest to him, moving closer to Eames and his cake. Now he’s near enough to observe (and try not to giggle over) the fact that apron Eames is wearing seems to have simultaneously done its job (it’s covered in flour and frosting) and not done its job (there are patches of floured handprints on Eames pants, and half-disappearing on their shirt underneath the covering). And there’s a big dusty splotch on their face. Arthur reaches over and runs a finger through it, the tip coming away white.

“Get a bit lost in your work, did you?”

Eames shrugs. “Only a bit.” They look down at the cake, and seem to remember something. “Oh! Hold on!”

They lean over to reach into the drawer beside them. Full of various knick-knacks, Arthur knows. After a moment, they pull back with a candle in their hand. It was a big, bulky 2, the sort one might use for a child’s birthday cake. Arthur raises an eyebrow.

Eames shrugs again. “Best I could do.” They set the wax number into the frosting securely (it leans back a bit far, but seems steady) before lighting the wick.

They smile at Arthur, but do not sing. That’s another thing that Eames has always remembered - how much Arthur actually hates that damn birthday song. “Make a wish!”

Arthur considers only briefly before blowing out the flame.

“What did you- wait, don’t tell me,” Eames pulls him a little closer and gives his lips a quick peck. “You want it to come true, after all.”

Arthur, who as always had wished for many more years spent right here, just like this, with the love of his life, hums in agreement. They kiss again, this one a bit more heated, before Eames gestures behind Arthur. There are plates and cutlery sitting there, waiting to be used.

“Let’s dig into your cake,” they say, reaching back to untie their apron, though there is a slight reluctance in their eyes.

It turns out to be more than a little burnt. And dry. And the flavors of the sponge cake clashes a bit with the frosting. But even so, Arthur compliments Eames’ work. He tells them he loves it, and means it. “Better than any store bought cake,” he says.

“Don’t kid a kidder, love.” Eames looks away, biting their lip again. “We both know how shit I am at baking.”

“Maybe so,” Arthur wipes his mouth. “But I’m not kidding. I do love it - promise.” He covers Eames’ hand with his own.

Eames smirks. “Gonna give me a line about how it’s the thought that counts?”

“Nothing so obvious.” Arthur takes one last bite, leaving nothing but crumbs behind on his plate. “You made it. You tried. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me today.” His eyes flit around briefly. “Even if you did leave a mess in your wake.”

“Eh, I’ll clean it up later.” Arthur opens his mouth to protest, but Eames continues. “Right now, I’m more eager to let you open your present.”

Arthur perks up. “Present?” He looks around.

“Yep. Present.” Eames’ smile is bold, and more than a little lascivious. “But you’ll have to follow me to get that one.” They incline their head towards the bedroom.

This earns them another eyebrow raise. “Oh? And what is this mysterious gift?” Arthur lets himself be pulled up and towards the adjacent room. “Can I get a hint?”

“So impatient,” Eames rolls their eyes. “But…” they take Arthur’s hand and draw him closer, resting it against the small of their back. Slowly, they let his fingers drift below the waistband of their trousers, where they know he’ll feel the smooth silk hiding underneath.

Arthur’s eyes widen. And darken with the thinnest veil of lust. He dips forward for a kiss, but Eames pulls away.

“Come on,” they say, dragging him forward again. Forward and into their bedroom before kicking the door closed behind them.

Turns out, Eames enjoys Arthur’s birthday present almost as much as Arthur does.

[nightingalescalling]

Accountability: Writing Progress & Future Projects

Current Projects

1. Art of Nuance, Chapter 2: 2k/~5k

Future Projects

1. Mystery project with @saffronthread 😏

2. Closing the Gap (The Distance Between Us sequel)

Update (October 3, 2021): on indefinite hiatus. One of my dogs passed away last night after a seizure due to acute liver failure.

Update (October 26, 2021): still on hiatus. We are in the process of getting a restraining order against our neighbor who we believe poisoned our dog. My ball python has passed away from cancer and this month continues to be the fucking worst. I also ended up in the ER twice last week due to morning sickness and dehydration.

[zoros-bandana]

hi dove!!! Could I request nsfw Zoro x f reader?Reader has a devil fruit and falls into icy water. Zoro dives in and they get swept away from the ship (maybe the crew is mid battle or something) and wash up on a winter island. Zoro gets them to an inn and they have to get out of their clothes and warm up. Especially since the shower runs out of hot water. I know this was kind of long and specific I hope that’s okay. I’ve had this idea in my head for a while and ur my favorite writer on here <3

Hi honey, thank you so much for your kind words I hope you enjoy

One Night Inn

(NSFW)

Warning: mention of fight, mention of drowning, f oral, m oral, sixty-nine, f orgasm, swearing, praises, vaginal sex, m orgasm, cream pie

Summary: reader with electricity devil fruit powers falls overboard into water mid fight, when she wakes up she is somewhere very different to the ship and stuck trying to warm up with Zoro

Word Count: 2,300

________________________________________

You spun around, dodging the attack from the opposing pirates as they attacked your crew on the Thousand Sunny. The waters were harsh and dangerous, rocking the ship with urgency; ready to topple over. You struck the pirate in the chest; surging electricity through his body. He collapsed on the deck, sizzling from your touch; smoke fuming from his body. You ran towards a few members of your crew, helping them to fight off the pirates attack. A large wave hit the side of the ship, jolting the deck; a few opposing pirates soaring off the side. Luffy followed, crashing against the side of the ship, his top half sending him over the side of the deck. Your reflexes kicked in, grabbing Luffy by the shirt, tugging him back over; your body twisting to set him back onto the deck. Your foot caught as your twisted, letting go off Luffy; the unbalance sending your backwards over the side of the ship plummeting into the water below.

You landed into the ice water with a heavy crash; all of the air sucked from your lungs from the harsh impact. You felt winded, your lungs burning as you began sinking to the deep unknown of the water. The icy temperature struck your body hard; instantly burning every inch of your body, turning it numb. You thrashed against the water weakly, attempting to stop your sinking; your body slowly giving out and your vision going dark. A large figure appeared in your vision, blocking the strands of light that trickled into the deep abyss. More panic set in as your vision did not recognise the figure inching towards you; causing you to flap around in panic. Your vision finally collapsed, your body going limp as you passed out in the deep waters.

You awoke, shivering and stiff, looking up at the dark brown ceiling that seemed to drag on forever. A thin scratchy blanket covered your body, sticking to the wetness left from your dangerous endeavour with the sea. You weakly looked around, taking in the dark grey of the walls; warn splits covered them from age. A frail window sat sealed shut, a foggy haze blocking your view of the outside. Your teeth began to chatter as reality set in, your body frozen stiff as you lied there. A hand caressed your arm, alerting you that you were not alone; your head weakly turning to face them. Zoro sat next to you, stripped down to his boxers, his body shivering as he watched you; rubbing your arm. “Hey, you’re finally awake” his voice was worried like he had been waiting a while for you to wake up. “What happened?” You stuttered through chattering teeth. “You fell into the water saving Luffy so I jumped in to get you and the sea separated us from the ship. I found this old inn, and with a little help from persuasion…” he gestured over to his swords that leaned against the wall “I was able to get us a room and try and warm us up”. His face dropped at the realisation of the situation “there is also no hot water when we arrived” he watched your face sink, your eyes growing dull. “But” he attempted to change the subject “I remember Chopper saying that staying in wet clothes can make you sick so…” your eyes wondered to his bare chest “and that is why there is a lack of clothing?” He nodded “I didn’t think you would have appreciated me stripping you down while unconscious”. You nodded, realising you were still in your wet clothes. You attempted to sit up, your body struggling through the stiffness and chill that ran through your body. “Take it easy; you need to stay warm” Zoro argued, attempted to push you back down. “I’m trying” you shrugged him off, peeling the blanket off your body. Slowly you rose from the bed, attempting to stand on your weak legs. You stepped away from Zoro, each step creating an incredible ache in your bones, as you struggled to turn away from him.

Your hand gripped at the hem of your shirt, attempting to get the freezing clothes from your numb skin; easing the pressure of you weakened body. Your clothes were still and hard with ice, making the task almost impossible. “Oi hang on, woman. What are you doing?” he barked. “You said it’s warmer this way and I’m in no condition to sit here freezing while you get to be warmer than me”. He blushed, looking away “well, at least not in front of me” Zoro protested, turning his back to you. You rolled your eyes, lifting the shirt over your head, the frost sticking to your face causing the shirt to be stuck. You muffled a protest, stuck with your arms up, head stick in your shirt. “Zoro?” you called out, attempting to turn towards where he was “Zoro? Help? I'm stuck” You heard him sigh, his heavy footsteps approaching towards you. His hands grabbed your shirt, yanking it over your head in one swift move. He released the shirt from your body, holding it in a tight grip. You sighed in relief looking up at him; his face casted in a heated blush. He turned back around as you struggled to slip off your pants, slowly inching your legs out from their frozen casket. You sighed in relief, wiggling then around to warm them up as best you could; the movement causing a painful burn to corse through your legs. You turned around in the movements, noticing Zoro already looking at you, but noticed something more concerning. You noticed his eyes; large and hungry, sitting at your chest eyeing off your breasts sitting perked in your bra. Your body was still half frozen, allowing your breasts to sit higher up, overflowing your bra more than initially intended. He licked his lips slightly “I, uh, guess you have to remove that too, yeah?” You nodded in response. His eyes looked back up at your quickly, blinding a couple of times before looking away; shaking his head. You turned back away from him, your hands shaking as your undid the back of your bra slowly; struggling to find the clasp. You sighed in relief, feeling the loosening of the bra easing the chill off your chest; releasing your breasts with a jiggle, your nipples still hard from the chill over the rest of your aching body.

You suddenly felt Zoro approach you, his large frame radiating warmth behind you, his hand tracing up to your bra strap. His hard calloused fingers tucked into the strap, pulling it off your shoulder. “I think I can get this one off myself, Zoro” you mumbled, blushing, embarrassed by his bold behaviour. “I know” he whispered into your ear, his breath warm against you “but you’ll warm up quicker this way”. His lips met your shoulder, planting soft kisses against your skin; your body flushing with a radiant warmth. He felt good. You always wondered about how loving the swordsman would be to you; wondering how he would be as a lover. You imagined he would be rough and brute; just get the job done and move on. But this was something new. This was something you never imagined from him. But this was also something you wanted. You moaned, only encouraging him, his hand tightly gripping into your bra yanking it off your other shoulder and off your body. He chucked your shirt and bra to the ground, his hand quickly engulfing your breast pulling you flush up against him. You wiggled against him, a growing heat radiating through your legs as he tweaked at your nipple in his grasp. You shut your eyes, embracing his grasp on you; suddenly appreciate the lack of chill from your body. Your fingers reached your panties; fiddling at the waistband, struggling to lower them pressed up into Zoro. His hands moved from your breast as he lowered himself down behind you, slipping his fingers into your panties, yanking them down your legs swiftly.

He spread your legs apart, guiding his fingers along your slit from behind you; playing in your wetness. You groaned, moving yourself against his fingers, giving him an idea. He leaned back, pulling his fingers away from you; his back flat against the floor. “Sit on top of me” he ordered, pointing to his face “sit that pretty pussy of yours on my face”. You moaned at his command, lowering yourself onto him; facing towards his legs. His hands gripped into your thighs, pulling you down; his tongue making contact against your slit. The feeling was so heavenly, his tongue working a miracle between your legs, spreading a fast warmth to your bones. He groaned, loving how sweet you tasted on his tongue; wanting more of you, encouraging log steady licks. You attempted to wiggle against his grip, creating a sweet friction as you rode his face. You leaned forward, grasping at his boxers, springing free his hard cock, girthed with thick veins and leaking precum from his sensitive honey tip. You gave his tip a few licks, tasting him against your tongue, before gently sucking his tip inside your mouth. He moaned between your legs, sending out a wonderful vibration against your sensitive clit; edging you to go deeper. You inched him deeper inside your mouth, lewd wet sounds echoed the room as you bobbed your head around him. His legs started to thrust up, gagging him deeper into your throat, allowing him to control your rhythm. He gripped tighter into your thighs, his tongue edging into your hole, flicking against your entrance. Your moans vibrated around his cock; making his tongue hitch it movements, feeling so twitchy and sensitive he was getting around your lips. His tongue swirled around your sensitive clit, vibrating in a fast pattern, sending your legs into a shaking mess. He gripped into your thighs, holding you still, stopping you for squirming as your orgasm neared. He needed you to cum on him, smearing your juices on his face; warming you up in such a delicious way. Your sucking around his cock began to fault, your head coming up for air with a long whine, your whole body shaking “ugh, Zoro. I’m gonna cum”. His flicking against your bud went faster, finally sending you over the edge, your body spasming over his; your pussy dripping juices that be happily slurped at. You wrapped your hand around his cock, finally stable enough to realise your position, your body slowly coming down from your high. His cock twitched in your hand as you gave him a few pumps, slick from your spit.

Zoro mumbled something under you, lifting your pussy off him too be heard. “Get up on that bed I’m not done yet” he ordered, shoving you off his body. You rolled off him, struggling against your shaking body as you walked to the bed. Zoro beat you to it, gripping you and shoving you backwards onto the thin mattress. He pulled you to the end of the bed, your legs hooking over his arms as he stood at the edge, his cock lined up ready against your core. He entered you with a brave push; you walks sucking him in tightly. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Such good fuckin pussy” he groaned, inching his full length in. You whined against the stretch, shutting your eyes tight as he filled out your dripping hole. He pulled out against you, hissing at the tight pull against him that encouraged him to stay inside you. Eagerly, he trusted himself inside you, getting deeper and deeper with each thrust. He dug his nails into your legs, keeping him grounded as he felt drunk and numb against you. He didn’t want it to end. “Why did we wait so long for this” he mumbled to nobody in particular, his eyes rolling back into his head as he reached your cervix. The crew always pointed out how thick Zoro was, but even still, he knew the both of you wanted this; wanted each other. You two had a connection like no other on the ship, only adding a sexual tension to the already overflowing need you both shared for each other.

You could feel him getting close, his movements growing slow and voice soft with whines. He leaned forward, his hands resting either side of you on the bed; your legs wrapping around him. “God, I love how fuckin loyal you are to the crew; to our captain. How you saved him” he groaned, looking up at the sky “fuck, you’re so good to us. You’re so fuckin hot when you fight; electrocuting anyone that tries to hurt the crew. The look on your face, so determined and strong” he looked back down at you, his eyes lustful “nothing like it is now… so sexy and aroused all for me”. You nodded, whimpering as his cock continued to brush against your cervix; your back arching off the bed. He gave a stern grunt, finally spilling himself inside you; his body dripping sweat. He collapsed down next to you, panting, catching his breath; his eyes screwed shut. You adjusted yourself, your body less stiff than before; more pliable and determined to go find your ship.

"I suppose we need to find our way back to the crew" you suggested, sitting up. His hand came to your arm, stopping you from leaving “not yet”. His lips curled into a beautiful smirk “I’m not done keeping you warm yet”.

[chiwhorei]

habit

pairing: s. tendou x catholic fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 1.2k

warnings: drug use (pot), dubcon, sacrilege- this is a total fuck you to my catholic upbringing and i’m so sorry (no i’m not)

a/n: there’s no beta on this, also absolutely no explanation other than i’ve been stuck in a rut of writers block and am tying desperately to crawl back out. This is part of HQHQ’s monthly server collab, you can check out all of the other amazing pieces here! this is dedicated to the love of my life and fellow deeply repressed catholic @undermattsun

hymn: dirty little secret by: all american rejects

The weeks bleed by with practiced pattern, school work, bible study. Rinse and repeat. Sundays are for 10 AM mass at Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, the church you have knelt in for two decades. You take communion and sing hymns squished in between your parents.

If it’s the first Sunday of the month, you have stale donuts after and make small talk with fellow congregants. Every other week you are shuffled to a stiff brunch where your parents fuss over Father’s homily. You always remember to listen just enough during mass to posit something vague so they know you had been paying attention.

Wednesday evenings are ear-marked for youth group with the other young, spritely Catholics of your university. Two hours of acoustic guitars and promises to your Lord and Savior ring in your battered ears as you bid goodbyes to your friends. While the rest of your youth group heads to the cafe a few blocks away, you head for the opposite direction. The designated laundromat parking lot comes in to view only a five minute walk from the church, and a beat up mustang is outlined in the retreating sunset.

As you climb into the passenger seat a long, bandaged set of fingers turn your face, Tendou does a once over, patting your cheek and pulling a cigarette from behind his ear, the mess of red hair gleaming in the low light still hanging on the horizon. He revs the car to life, rattling abjectly as he pulls out onto the street and towards his apartment.

“So, does your immortal soul feel all nice and clean again, princess?”

Sundays are for mass, Wednesday evenings are for youth group. Wednesday nights are for the heady fog of pot and choking back sobs whilst brutally pounded by Tendou Satori.

“Satori, s-slow down. If you give me a hickey my parents are going to kill me.” You huff from your position on his lap, both knees digging into the decades old shag on either side of his thighs, you feel a damp spot on your shin. Probably bong water.

His mouth was on you the second he unlocked his front door, pushing you inside unceremoniously and laughing as you stumbled. Always the gentleman.

You had made it to the living room floor in a trail of your own clothing, leaving you in only a pair of cotton panties, the apartment was dimly lit and dense with smoke. You always wonder how he can get away with his whole apartment covered inch deep in the skunky smell, but his complex doesn't really seem one to check up on the occupants anyway.

Tendou licks a long stripe over your collarbone, blowing back along the same path to watch you shiver, “C’mon princess, doesn’t having a stick up your ass all the time get exhausting?”

You roll your eyes at the comment, knowing he likes it when he can rile you up. Instead of gracing him with a retort, your fingers move to the blunt carded in between two fingers. Tendou lets out a disapproving tsk, bringing it to his own lips instead. His other hand comes to rest under your jaw as he pulls from the blunt. Tendou brings a calloused finger up to pop open your lips. You lean in dutifully, letting the smoke pass from his mouth to yours in an almost kiss. You cough slightly when you inhale, still not totally used to the burning feeling.

“Such a precious little thing you are, y/n. Your father must be so proud,” Tendou takes another drag, inhaling fulling and blowing the smoke into your scrunched up face, “I wonder what he’d do if he knew you were with me right now.”

You’re hot in the cheeks now, feeling every bit feather-light and obnoxiously weighed down.

“What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” Your response is weak, blood turning to syrup in your veins as the minutes pass by. Sixty seconds come in the slowest intervals known to man but rush forward just the same.

Your back is flush against the nasty carpet in the next instant, dragging uncomfortably against the stains of God-knows-what. Tendou’s supply is always too strong for someone so inexperienced, it makes you much more compliant when he gets you under him. You try to push yourself up to regain any control you can, but your wrists are trapped in one large hand. He looks over your form, flushed and panting. The lines are blurring in your head, as they always seem to do when trapped within Tendou’s orbit.

“What he doesn’t know is sending you straight to hell.”

You’re both deftly aware of what this arrangement is. There’s no love in the closing space between your two bodies. This isn’t the beginning of a sacrament with a pretty white veil and the pointed roof of a cathedral. This is nothing more than a baptism of writhing, sweaty bodies coming together in only the way a husband and wife should. Tendou is your most perverse habit.

“Oh, this is new.” Your captor notices the shiny silver around your ring finger, the band still fresh against your skin. Your father had slid the velvet box across the dinner table on your birthday last week. His words fall heavy on your shoulder still.

A reminder to maintain virtuous. A promise to your future husband.

Any attempt to speak is quelled by the feeling of Tendou’s lips wrapped around your finger. You feel his teeth scraping against your skin, pulling off the gifted silver with a pop from his sinful lips. His eyes hold you down captive, scanning your reaction from where you lie dizzy below him.

The ring peeks out from its home in between Tendou’s teeth, a devious smile pulls on the corners of his lips. He hums softly, head dipping back down to the hot skin of your neck to trace patterns against the collecting sweat. You feel it against you, the cold metal a constant reminder of just how wrong this is. However wrong though, in your lust and drug clouded haze, it’s ten times hotter.

Tendou hears your soft mewls below him, begging for his next move. Hands find your hips, pushing into the skin with wandering hands. His mouth is trailing lower, tracing around the curve of your breast and flicking your nipple with a growl. The teasing is enough to make you crazy, you just want him to do something.

Tendou chuckles darkly above you, and you realize you had voiced your desires in a whine instead of where you thought they had died in your throat. His lips hover over your own, pressing the ring past your lips to sit in between your teeth. He draws back with a sickening smile.

“Good girl, now keep that there while I fuck your little pussy. You can save your prayers for church on Sunday.”

Tendou is a hard habit to kick, especially with the unceremonious removal of your slick-covered panties and the way he prods at your aching hole with little regard to wether you’re ready for him or not. You always squeeze down on him so well when you’re high, begging for him in strings of tears and muffled pleas around the sickening symbol of chastity. You squeal when he presses into you, cock hard and heavy. He’s never gentle. This isn’t the marital bed you’d always been taught to wait for, it’s the grimy, stained carpet of the worst man you’ve ever met.

If your parents ever found out about your little habit, you’d be dragged to the nearest convent and given a new one.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[creativeashproductions]

Banjo Riff // Platonic!Reggie Peters

IN WHICH: Luke rejects Reggie’s ideas for country music one too many times leading to the friendship fracturing and putting the bands future in question. Luke, with the help of his girlfriend the reader and his friends scramble to make it up to the bassist.

Warnings: Swearing, hurt!Reggie, Luke being an ass, fighting, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.2k

A/N: This idea has been sitting in my notes for MONTHS now. Song referenced is Lay Here With Me by Maddie & Tae (featuring Dierks Bentley)

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

If there was one thing Sunset Curve, then later Julie and the Phantoms would rely on, it was the battle between Luke and Reggie. Since the conception of a band between the friends, Reggie had always wanted to play a country song. He had learned how to play the banjo in preparation, but Luke rejected both the idea and songs as always.

"You said our sound was vintage '80s and '90s rock music Luke. The band evolved into a pop-rock sound-"

"Because our band changed from Sunset Curve to Julie and the Phantoms. I love you, man, but there's no way we're going country." Luke finally snapped with a heated glare on his face. Luke didn't mean to snap so severely, but it happened.

Luke watched as Reggie's face completely dropped into the kicked puppy expression that tore everyone apart. Instead of making light of the conversation, Reggie mutely nodded in response before turning to grab his bass for the band practice. Luke's stomach dropped at the rather odd behaviour, but Luke blamed his response on his current writers' block.

"Let's start with Flying Solo." Luke proclaimed, hoping Reggie's favourite song would cheer him up. Alex's curious gaze bounced between the two other males in the band just as Julie wandered into the garage.

Before Julie could even question the tension, Reggie had started the beat on the pad stationed on the keyboard. The young female immediately jumped into the first rehearsal song with ease. Every attempt Julie was about to question Reggie's uncharacteristic quiet, the bassist started a different song.

"What's his problem?" Julie questioned as Reggie packed up his stuff and practically sprinted out of the studio. He'd rejected the offer of a pizza movie night.

"Luke here decided to be an asshole again." Alex's tone of voice was sugary sweet in comparison to the glare he sent his guitarist. 

Luke flinched at the furious expression on his bandmate's face. It wasn't a secret Julie and Reggie gravitated to each other in sibling bond. The two had been friends since infancy through their parents; Julie was there when the Peters started fighting. Reggie was there when Julie's mom passed away.

"Don't kill me!" Luke pleaded, scrambling around the piano from the intimidating Puerto Rican who had a solid punch. Julie's anger faltered at the guilt on the boy's face, "I was frustrated, and I shouldn't have taken it out on him!"

"What did Reggie do to deserve it?" Julie asked from the other side of the piano, acting as a barrier between the teenagers.

"He asked about the band doing a country song," Luke admitted with a grimace. His hazel eyes dimmed once more.

"What is your issue with country music? Your girlfriend is literally a country singer Luke!" Alex cried, stepping in between the two feuding bandmates.

Rock n' Roll Luke Patterson had been dating a well-known country singer for close to two years now. Luke had always been adamant that country wasn't all it was cracked up to be, but if you looked in the false bottom of the console in his car, you'd see a different story. Beneath the Eagles, Nirvana, AC/DC, and Gun N' Roses CDs, you'd find countless CDs of his girlfriend. He even had a playlist with a name that concealed the music in it.

Luke was a secret country fan, but he'd take that to his grave before he let anyone other than you know that.

"I don't have an issue! I don't think our band would benefit from branching into that music genre!" Luke argued with his bare arms crossing over his chest. Both Julie and Alex were about to respond when the studio gained another inhabitant.

"Would anyone like to explain why Reggie stormed into my house holding his songbook? He literally dropped it in my garage and tried to light it on fire?" You asked from the double doors with said book in your hand.

All three out of four members of Julie and the Phantoms recognized the book with a country landscape. The sight caused all their stomachs to drop at the obvious symbol of Reggie's hurt feelings.

"Funny story-"

"Luke Patterson...did you hurt his feelings about his love of country?" You asked through clenched teeth. Your response was Luke wincing at the anger blistering in your tone, "Did you ever think that country music is his comfort music? Fix this, Luke. Reggie, of all people, doesn't deserve your frustration."

You turned on your heel with Julie following in the attempt to find the forlorn bassist, most likely being hard on himself. You checked the beach house Reggie's dad had gotten in the divorce to no success. The school auditorium was empty, and so was the stable where Reggie worked part-time for the horses. You had returned back to Julie's house to sit on the porch to brainstorm.

"Isn't this the week he's with his mom?" Julie questioned with a furrowed brow. You could only shrug as Julie pulled up the calendar she shared with Flynn.

Reggie's parents had somewhat amicably divorced two years ago after attempts of reconciliation through therapy. Reggie had sat down with them to tell them how he felt with them fighting, if you recalled. They decided to do a trial separation for a few months and, in the end, had mutually agreed to divorce.

"I think Mr. Peters is taking care of his mother in a different state. She broke her hip, and now she's being moved into a retirement home." You offered the girl the encapsulated sunshine in just her smile.

"I suppose we'll try the Carter-Peters home." Julie breathed, bouncing on her feet to your car parked in front of her house. Julie's fingers tapped the screen in a chat thread she hadn't touched for months.

Your keen eyes easily read Carrie Wilson's name at the top of the thread that had been dormant since the end of their friendship. Apparently, Julie received little help in the frustrated sigh she released and the increasingly violent tapping of her screen.

"As usual, Carrie is no help," Julie announced with disgust in her voice. She squeezed the hand you placed on her knee before your hand returned to the wheel.

"One day, you'll have to tell me what happened between the two of you."

"Old news. Happened just before you moved back from Nashville." Julie once more avoided talking about the issues. 

It was the same response every time you questioned the friendship that had fractured in the few years you'd been in Nashville. Before you left, Carrie and Julie had been attached at the hip, and when you came back, they were at each other's throats. Well, mostly Carrie was because Julie had too big of a heart to stand up to her former friend.

"Well, the beat-up van is still there." Julie caught the van, more of an eyesore, to be honest, sitting in the three-car driveway. The van was shared between Reggie and Flynn as a joint gift from their parents when Reggie's mom moved in with Flynn and her father.

"We both know Reggie-"

"Would walk to work through his problems. The number of times I've found in walking downtown…" Julie trailed with a shake of her half up half down hairstyle she left uncovered by a hat. Another symbol of her finding herself outside the grief that had concealed her.

"Oh, thank god." Flynn moaned from the front porch with her headphones resting on her shoulders instead of her ears, "He's been playing his old bass that makes that odd high pitch squeak noise. I couldn't take it. Get him out!"

You opened and closed your mouth with the inability to find the words, but Flynn knew already, "Doors unlocked. He's in his room."

"Thanks." You informed the fashionable teenager before brushing passed into the house. Not much had changed since Reggie had moved part-time into the house; his parents shared custody.

Flynn was right; the sound of that screech was like a bread trail to the last bedroom in the hallway to the left. The door opened a smidge to reveal Reggie sitting in the dim room with just his bedside lamp on. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, Reggie." You breathed from leaning against the door jam, "I'm not sure what Luke said but don't give up on writing. Your songs mean something, Reginald."

"Then why doesn't Luke even read my lyrics? He barely read the title of my last one before tossing it aside!" Reggie whined before taking on a caricature of Luke's voice, "'Home is Where my Horse Is'? Reggie, stop putting your songs in my book!"

You couldn't help the snort at his interpretation of Luke, "That's a...uh...an accurate voice?"

Reggie didn't even crack a smile.

"Okay, maybe don't push Luke's buttons but imagine turning this hurt into songs!"

"Okay. Can I be left alone?"

"Sure." You sighed, turning to leave the room again, "But first. Don't get rid of this Reg. You have good songs." 

You left Reggie's songbook on the dresser by his door on your way through the Carter-Peters household. Flynn sighed in relief when Reggie didn't continue using his old bass and even waved as you and Julie pulled away from the curb.

Reggie's eyes had stayed on the songbook you left on his second-hand dresser as if it would get up and bite him. All he could see was Luke rolling his eyes when Reggie had opened the book to show him a new song he'd written. Reggie was tired of only being known for playing bass.

"I brought you some leftover pizza." Reggie wasn't aware he'd been staring at the songbook for hours by then. He was only aware of Luke when he offered a peace offering in the form of Reggie's favourite food.

"I-"

"I'll go grab a soda from the fridge." Luke retreated just as quick as he had entered the bedroom. Seeing Luke was like rubbing salt in the open wound, and once more, Reggie's emotions flared.

Reggie was already at the fire pit in the backyard when Luke had argued with Flynn overtaking one of her sodas. The soda that had dropped on the back porch as Luke saw Reggie's fingers about to drop the songbook in the crackling fire.

"Reggie!" Luke shouted, ignoring the cold spray of soda on his bare arms. The hazel-eyed guitarist shoved Reggie away from the fire.

"What the hell, dude?" Reggie groaned, rolling onto his stomach to push himself to his sit on his knees. His blue eyes seeing Luke stomping the ignited corner of the songbook that had caused them issues.

"What the hell were you doing, Reggie?" Luke demanded with the songbook held tight in his grip. The glare on the messy-haired teenager directly pinned on his best friend, "Why would you try to destroy the book?"

"What's the point of having something our band won't branch into?" Reggie shrugged, moving to sit with his knees pulled to chest, "I've tried to keep the peace but Luke. I'm starting to understand why Bobby left the band."

Luke's heart clenched at the honesty Reggie was revealing, "What do you mean?"

"Screw the blood pact." Reggie grumbled, recalling the oath Alex, Bobby, and he had done to keep the truth from Luke, "Bobby didn't leave because he got an early acceptance into Juilliard."

Luke's eyebrows furrowed together, "What?"

"Luke...you tend to get possessive over the music we make. You brushed off Bobby's opinions, and we all didn't want to hurt your feelings. You've had a shitty time with your parents, but like Bobby, I feel like you don't appreciate our talents."

"What? Dude, you're killer on the bass! Alex's insane on the drums!"

"We know that. Maybe Bobby should have told you the truth on why he was leaving. I don't think you noticed but 

"Luke. The songs we perform are all written by you. It was fine, but then when Julie joined, all of a sudden, you were okay with someone else writing with you. But you've never even looked at the songs I've written."

Luke silently listened as Reggie rambled on about how he, along with Bobby, felt underappreciated by the guitarist. 

"And now you've been bit by the writers' block bug, but I think the band should take a break. Get our heads back on straight. Before we destroy the band, destroy our friendships." Reggie told his best friend with tears rolling down his face, "Just a week or two."

Luke's mouth hung open as Reggie circled around him to enter the household, but the telltale sound of the lock engaging broke the teenager. But Luke wasn't one to give up, so he created a group chat with Alex, Julie, Flynn and you. A single text that had all of them meeting at the studio.

"He quit the band?" Alex demanded, taking the songbook from Luke's hand, "What the hell?"

"One second he's in his room, and the next he's about to burn that! I may not like-"

"Luke, have you even read a single song he wrote?" You asked your boyfriend with your arms resting down on your knees. The boy in question half-heartedly shrugged with his eyes on his battered shoes.

"How are we gonna fix this?" Julie asked with a frown marring her pretty face usually lit up with sunshine. Her question was left to waft in the forlorn atmosphere in her family's studio.

"Give me that." You demanded towards the band's drummer with determination lit up in your eyes. Alex hesitantly handed over the songbook to your grabby hands.

The other individuals in the room watched as you settled into a chair with a stray acoustic guitar you'd left. Your eyes focused on the notes Reggie had placed around one of the unfinished songs. The soft melody was played a few times before you noticed Alex creating a beat with his drums.

"If I just tweak the song to make this piece the verse instead of a chorus." You mumbled under your breath with a pen scratching the paper. In a different colour, you jotted down the lyrics of a song you'd been working on previously. It was a song you'd struggled with the ending.

Alex huddled around you to add his own notes for the drums, "Definitely a song with a soft backing beat."

"Perfect. I just joined what he has with a song I'd given up a while back. The two songs are the last two pieces of a puzzle." You informed the drummer. Both of you unaware as Julie, Luke, and Flynn watched your brainstorming.

Luke felt out of sorts not being included in writing a song, but he thought it was suitable to not work on it. It gave Luke insight into how Reggie felt not being included in songwriting.

"I have an idea." Luke interjected with a grin, "Reggie's always wanted to see a real ranch. Do you think your uncle would be okay with us staying at the ranch?"

Your eyes flitted up to the mischievous hazel of your boyfriend's scheming gaze, "My uncle adores having people on the ranch. He'd enjoy teaching Reggie the ways of ranch life out of a city."

"How are you gonna get Reggie out to Nashville without it being band business?" Flynn questioned from her position on the couch, "He did just ask for a break from the band."

"Uh...I could pretend to enter a music competition." You offered hesitantly as you'd never actually performed on a stage for the group. You'd kept your personal life separate from your successful career as a country musician.

So you conspired with your friends to make amends with the bassist.

One Month Later, Nashville

The beat-up van pulled into a parking spot in front of a building. The band had seen the building in pictures on your Instagram. Alex, Luke and Julie all shared a look Reggie couldn't catch with his mouth wide open at the city.

"So, where's this competition?" Reggie inquired with his steps in line with Julie. The distance between Reggie and Luke is still noticeable.

True to Reggie's word, the band had come back together after two weeks of a break, but the bassist and guitarist's friendship was still fractured. A particular cloud of awkwardness followed each attempt; Luke tried to branch it together.

"Uh, not here. Y/N invited me to tour the recording studio she uses through her label." Luke offered to the confused bassist. As usual, Reggie barely cast a glance at the guitarist.

"C'mon!" Alex called out from the open doorway with the new addition of you by his side.

Luke was quick to nearly tackle you in a hug and a lingering kiss on your lips. The band all made sounds of feigned disgust. Even Reggie joined in the usual banter within the group.

"Hey, Reggie, do you want to see how us country artists do it?" You quipped with your arm interlocking with his. The cold leather of his jacket raising goosebumps on your arm as you dragged him to the recording booth.

As soon as he was comfortable on one of the spinney chairs by the producer's side, he watched like a hawk. The band had never been in a real professional recording studio owned by a label. It was interesting to everyone, but mostly they all watched Reggie's reactions.

"I was working on this song." You spoke from inside the booth. With a nod, your producer began playing a portion of the song.

"Is...is that-" Reggie was cut off by as Luke interrupted him.

"Your song? Yeah." 

Reggie stared at his best friend, "What?"

"You were right, Reggie. I didn't appreciate what you could bring to the band, and I'm so fucking sorry about that. You have excellent songs even if I'm not a fan of country music." Luke genuinely informed his best friend with his hands clasping his, "I want you. Both you and Alex to have a bigger role because we started this band together. We all share responsibility."

"So for now. Alex and I finished one of the songs you had written. I was wondering if you'd like to make it a duet? Release it as a single with a full writing credit."

Reggie absolutely beamed in response to your question. He was in the recording booth beside you in mere seconds.

For the week the band stayed on your uncle's ranch, Reggie was in the studio with you going over the song. It is a song you released as the leading single for your upcoming studio album with Reggie and cemented his career. It wasn't the last time you did a song with Reggie. In fact, he set himself up as a sought after country songwriter.

"Holy shit!" Luke shouted as soon as Reggie told him the success of one of the songs had brought interest to Julie and the Phantoms, "I could kiss you! I'll never doubt your skills!"

Reggie and Luke's fractured friendship healed with the promise of a yearly visit to the ranch in Nashville. Plus, Reggie impressed Luke and Alex with the banjo riff in a country song the band released on their third studio album featured by you. Reggie would always be thankful he had the chance to record ‘Lay Here With Me’ with you.

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[itsthemoofacewriting]

Just for a while

So I actually used this to get through my writer’s block and take a break from my other WIPs. Before I knew it, it was complete, so I figured I’d share it. It’s a bit drabble-ish and incredibly self-indulgent.

I tried to watch the film to get some of the scenes right, but then I kept getting swept away in the film, so there’s going to be to be differences. Then again, they weren’t a couple in the film, and I’ve added some scenes, so does it really matter?

Summary: Zoro was weak with children, Chopper was a prime example of that, and Nami was no exception. Film Z. Rating: T. Some suggestiveness. 

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN. 

Enjoy!

Zoro’s ears were ringing, screeching in protest at the loud noise from the blast, and his back hurt from being hurled across the ship. It was dull but it was there. But it reminded him that they weren’t in the clear yet and his reflexes were kicking in, grabbing for his swords, or at least trying to. His body was bound in thick green ropes that didn’t given an inch no matter how much he protested.

Smoke filled his nose, and he gave up on escaping for the time being to take in the view. It was hard to believe he’d managed to ignore it for this long. The ship was on fire, black smoke billowing from what seemed like every surface. The galley was gone, completely blown open and surrounded by flames licking their way further across the ship.

The scene was horrific. Sunny was in trouble.

It was hard to decide what to focus on first in all the chaos, but he quickly found something that made his stomach drop.

Luffy being crushed in a Z’s hand.

He looked weak and defeated, it was an awful look on him. Something that had Zoro wanting to grab for his swords to rectify the scene immediately.

Goddamn it. He needed out.

Like a dirty tissue, Luffy was thrown to the floor, apparently not worthy of being killed in a fight. Something Zoro knew would grate him, but at least there wasn’t an immediate threat of a dead Captain.

His gaze flitted quickly around to check everyone else was accounted for and somewhat okay. It stopped on what he presumed was Nami only a few feet in front of him. It looked like her, the orange hair a dead giveaway… but smaller. Much, much smaller. What the hell had been happening out here before? Frowning, he stored that thought away for later.

Shit. He needed to move. Now. He had to do something, they were in trouble and there he was just sitting around. Movement caught his eye and he saw the Cook also bound, struggling to be freed.

Shit, shit, shit.

Now it was really bad, all three of them were down.

Nami caught his struggling and ran over to him before he could call over to her. Her small hands were trying to pry the green vines away from him.

“Do I want to know why you’re a child?” His eyebrows were furrowed as he got a proper look at her. It was Nami alright.

“Not the time. Later,” she huffed, small hands gripping the vines and yanking on them, but they wouldn’t budge. She wasn’t strong enough right now.

And it wasn’t the time it seemed. Because the ship exploded around them as cannon balls relentlessly fired at them and it didn’t help Nami who was still attempting to free him. She was almost knocked off her feet when the ship was hit again and if she went overboard, no one would be there the dive after her. He was getting more and more frustrated by the second.

When he looked to his left, Chopper wasn’t getting much further with the cook.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Usopp, Franky and Brook were just as trapped as him.

And Luffy was furious. It was rare to see his Captain like that. He was back on his feet, quickly recovering, and hanging off the side of the ship, snarling at them to come back. Robin was doing her best to talk him down, but he wasn’t listening and Zoro could feel his already thin temper about to snap. At everything. It had all gone so wrong so quickly.

Him and the cook were useless.

Luffy couldn’t see past his own anger.

Nami was a child.

They’d lost.

But not everything.

Just as he was about to bark at Luffy to get his head on straight, Robin finally got through to him after another cannonball hit their ship and almost capsized them.

Luffy was in action then, freeing Franky, as Robin worked on securing herself and the others.

“Hold on,” Zoro commanded, now looking back down at Nami, who in all the chaos still hadn’t given up. Franky was just about to fire up a coupe de burst and the last thing he needed was her falling off the ship. Especially when he couldn’t go after her.

It didn’t take long for her to understand before she was nodding back and clinging to him as they sailed through the air away from the attack. He was too tied up to properly hold onto her, no matter how much he wanted to.

.

.

.

The mood was off when they landed on the first island available. Luffy’s face solemn as he stood with Franky assessing the damage to the ship. The rest of the crew left them, gathering instead across the water from the ship to discuss what had happened and what their next move was going to be.

He hadn’t been incredibly involved in the discussion; he’d been too focused on Nami. It was unsettling. She was still exactly the same, bold and bossy, but instead it was all packaged into a miniature body.

There was no way around it, she was cute, and it left him in a strange position. Normally he’d snark her, draw her into an argument, especially when she was somewhat upset, to take her mind off of it, but now he didn’t feel like he could. It was almost as bad as picking on Chopper.

Nami said something about being returned to normal, standing up outraged and he should have known that the moment the cook opened his mouth he would be annoyed.

Gritting his teeth, Zoro could feel his patience dangerously thinning. He was used to the idiot cook spouting off nonsense to Nami and that hadn’t changed when they had got together. Normally he’d just ignore it, it was hardly like he was a threat, and she could handle herself. But today already hadn’t been a good day and when the pervert started talking about her body, he was ready to fight.

Unable to resist, he uttered out an irritated, “Creep,” and that seemed to do it. The focus was on him then and Nami started to look comfortable again. As soon as the shoving starting, she was breaking them apart, just before a full-on brawl could start.

Disgruntled, Zoro looked across the waters to see Luffy peeling away from Franky with the old man and when they saw each other, Luffy nodded at him. That was his cue. Zoro stood and motioned with his head for them to start walking.

He slowed for a second, waiting for Nami to catch up before continuing forward. He was only a few strides in when he noticed she was struggling to keep up, stuck in a weird running walk pace. He laughed to himself, she was tiny now, her previously long legs were now replaced with stumps and she was too proud to say anything.  

He had the urge to take her hand and the sudden thought surprised him. They’d never held hands before this, unless it was crowded or she was guiding him somewhere, they were fairly low key with their relationship unless alone. Yet the urge to do it was strong, and really, he knew why.  

When she stumbled, he was bending down without a second thought to pick her up and her legs sitting around his waist on the side of his body. She weighed almost nothing, and, to his surprise, she didn’t resist. Which was fine, great even, because then he didn’t have to think about scrapped knees, but the cooing that started from behind them made the back of his neck feel hot. Zoro wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or Nami… or both of them. But that didn’t stop the red from spreading to his ears.

He had no idea what possessed him to do that, they weren’t very big on public displays of affection normally but Nami didn’t complain as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and determinedly looked everywhere but at his face.

Cute.

He was loath to admit it, lest he be compared to the pervert, but like this she was. He tried to shrug it off, ignoring the loud whispers from behind and act casual.

The next couple of days were going to be hard.

.

.

.

Zoro didn’t like it.

The older man that had been talking to Luffy and Franky had told them all about Z whilst giving them food and drinks. But that wasn’t the problem. They needed to gather more information about Z’s whereabouts, which again, wasn’t a problem but it had led to Nami announcing it would be down to her, Robin, Usopp and Chopper.

Apparently Zoro and the others were too obvious. Liabilities she’d called them. He wasn’t sure how that logic worked out, when they were going with a walking, talking reindeer that could changed forms at whim.

“I should go with you,” Zoro said, watching as Nami tied her sandal.

The group going out to get information already had their change of clothes and were getting changed in a secluded alleyway away from any nosey passers-by’s. She’d already changed into her dress and sandals, all that was left was her hair. They’d be going their separate ways after that.

Nami sighed, eyebrows furrowing as she looked up at him. “We’ve been over this, you’re too obvious.”

“And a talking reindeer and long nose isn’t?” It was a good point.

“Usopp’s great at sneaking and Chopper’s barely noticeable with how tiny he is now.”

“And if things go wrong?” He didn’t want to entertain that thought, but he still did. The island was swarming with marines.

“We have Robin and Usopp, it’s fine,” Nami assured. “Also, it won’t go wrong, I’m great at this.” She was trying to tie her hair into a ponytail but with how much hair she had and her little arms, she struggled.

He knew she was right; she was great at this. She did it long before he came around to back her up. Except she wasn’t herself right now, she was a miniature version of herself.

Zoro held his hand out, silently asking for the hair tie. “You’re not yourself right now.” He gathered her hair, his hands smoothed over her hair a few times to ensure no bumps, he didn’t need her nagging him, and looped the band around a few times.

She checked his work, hands roaming over her hair, searching for bumps that weren’t there before giving the ponytail a tug to tighten it. She didn’t praise him for his efforts, instead she dropped two golden bands in hands and turned to face him. That was his praise, he figured as he picked the bands to start working on the front.

Nami stood patiently in the gap between his legs as he worked. “And that’s exactly why we don’t need you and the others attracting attention.”

She had him there. Brook drew attention because, well, skeleton, that didn’t need to be explained. Zoro and Luffy were too well known, even without his swords and Luffy’s hat, but not so much Sanji…

“Take the cook then.” He was an idiot and had especially got on his nerves today, but he was strong and somewhat reliable.

“And at the first sight of a woman? We don’t have time to find him or reign him in.”

Screw that, he was good for nothing right now.

There was nothing more he could say. He didn’t mean to sound like he doubted his own crewmates, they were strong, and time and time again they’d proved that. But they weren’t their selves right now, they weren’t a whole. They had two much younger members than normal with an island full of marines.

Nami was a magnet for trouble at the best of times and the love cook was the least of his problems. It was common knowledge what could happen to children out in the new world. All it would take was one skilled person, or a moment of distraction and she’d be gone without a word.

The thought of that happening had a knot forming in his stomach and he was about to say that he was going whether they liked it or not, until Nami rested a small hand on his forearm and smiled up at him reassuringly. And like the sap that he was, he melted instantly, all the fight bleeding out of him.

He wasn’t sure if she knew of his weakness yet, but something told him she’d realise soon enough.

.

.

.

“Do you know how close we were to leaving you behind?” Nami berated, arms angrily crossed in front of her as she stood before him, not caring that the train was moving. Except her anger didn’t have the same effect as it usually did in her childlike form.

“You’ve said about five times already,” Zoro replied tiredly.  

Their day had not improved at all. From the information group coming back with a hoard of marines on their tail, to Z shooting Luffy and the four of them almost being engulfed by lava whilst Nami and the others waited anxiously at the train station. Despite her anger now, when she’d seen them running towards the train, lava steadily overtaking the island just behind them, she’d looked relived.

He suspected Luffy still being passed out was to blame for her particularly sour mood, all the crew were worried in the packed train.

“Because you still don’t look like you get it.”

Naturally an angry child telling off an adult attracted attention, although Zoro didn’t really care about that, he just shrugged off the looks and focused on Nami. But when a man opposite from them gave her an appraising look that lingered far longer than acceptable, it put his back up. Zoro sent the man a scathing look that had him shrinking away as he scooped Nami onto his lap.

“I do. We made you worry,” he said, matter-of-factly, not taking his eye off the man until he got up to find somewhere else to sit.

The anger dispersed then, her frame relaxing on his lap as she got comfortable. “I’m going to go grey early; I swear.” She shook her head, but her tone was fonder than anything else.

They lulled into silence, swaying with the movements of the train, and letting the murmur from other passengers fill the quiet. Nami’s gaze slowly took in everyone, from strangers to the crew, one by one until it landed back on Zoro.

“It’s a shame you don’t dress like this more often,” Nami sighed, small hands playing with the collar of his neckline.

“Tch, not worth it. Too many layers.” He was already itching to take off the shirt. “Besides, I had a jacket on this morning.”

“Which is ruined now, do you know how hard it is to find a nice jacket that you’ll wear?”

“Because you insist that I wear a top underneath, pick either a top or a jacket, I’ll only wear one,” he told her, but the likelihood was he’d end up removing that too.

Whilst she was fussing over his jacket, trying to wipe some dirt off the fabric, her arm caught his attention. There were faint marks starting to bloom on her upper arm. He gently caught her arm and turned it to get a better look.

It was finger marks, four clustered together and a single one opposite.

Someone had grabbed her.

He’d guessed something had gone wrong earlier, based on the hoard of marines that had chased them all the way back to the rest of the crew, but he’d just thought a marine had finally recognised one of them. Not that she’d been grabbed and almost hauled way. It was exactly what he’d been worried about.

He looked at her sharply and she looked back at him warily.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He’d focus on her first, he couldn’t exactly do anything with his anger when the person that’d hurt her was long gone.

“Don’t worry about it, I made it worse by resisting.” And Nami must have sensed it was the wrong thing to say because she quickly added, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

That didn’t help his anger, but she was right. She told him Robin came after her as soon as she’d seen, and it soothed him at least. Another example of how dependable his crewmates were.

He rubbed gently along her arm, smoothing over the marks and he wasn’t sure if it was for her benefit or his.

“You’ve been very affectionate,” she said observationally.

And there it was. His hand stuttered on her arm for a second before he caught himself and continued, trying not to react to what she’d said. It’d taken far longer than he’d thought for someone to say something, but there was nothing he could say in his defence and the last thing he was going to do was agree, so he stayed silent instead. Not that that would help him.

Nami smirked up at him as he refused to make eye contact or speak, but that didn’t stop her from continuing, “Who’d have believed the fearsome pirate hunter was soft around all children. I thought it was just Chopper.”

“I’m not, we’re together, it makes sense.” That probably didn’t sound appropriate to anyone eavesdropping, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“You don’t normally hold my hand or pick me up… And you’ve been much more obliging.”

“It was convenient. You’ve got stumpy legs and I’ve got places to be,” he easily lied.

She didn’t look convinced. “And now?”

He had nothing to say to that. He was the one that had dragged her onto his lap, his arms still firmly wrapped around her to ensure she didn’t fall if there was a sudden movement… and to let people know she wouldn’t be an easy grab. He tried not to think about what a sap he’d looked like since she’d been turned into a child, but his mind still unhelpfully played it on a reel. How he’d caved whenever she so much as looked at him, offered to do things for her without her having to nag him, didn’t argue with her.

How embarrassing. His ears burned.

“It’s cute that you tried to hide it.”

It was the glint in her eye that gave her away that made him realise.

“You knew?” He asked, but he already knew the answer.

“I had a hunch, I knew from the moment you first picked me up,” she smiled up at him evilly, all innocence gone from her face.

She was the devil. Mislabelled into an adorable, tiny package.

“It’s almost worth staying like this, you’re as easy as Sanji-kun,” she looked downright smug and there was no doubt in his mind that she was imagining having the both of them wrapped around her finger.

That had him gritting his teeth in disgust, to be compared to him. He was about to say something caustic, just to wipe that smug grin off her face, until her eyes turned large, and she looked up at him remorsefully, lip quivering.

She wasn’t sorry at all, he knew that, but those glossy eyes stopped the foul words in their tracks. He huffed, annoyed, and looked the other way as Nami laughed at him. But he didn’t remove her from his lap.

Robin gave him an amused look.

.

.

.

She found him in the crow’s nest late in the day, head popping up through the entrance and pulling herself up when she saw him.

“How’s Luffy?” He asked, as she walked towards him.

“Quiet, but he’ll be alright.”

The mood on board had been weird since they’d left Piriodo, everyone subdued, and it was mainly due to Luffy’s lack of cheerful energy. Everyone had pretty much kept to themselves since they set off. It’d be back to normal tomorrow, after everyone had slept it off.

She stood in front of him from where he was sat on the bench and he braced himself when he caught the look on her face. He didn’t like it.

“Am I still allowed to sit in your lap? Or was that offer only there when I was a child?” She teased, eyes dancing in amusement.

Yup. He knew it. He rolled his eye; he’d be putting up with those jabs for a while.

She took his silence and sour expression as affirmation to her first question, but instead of sitting on his lap like she had back on the train, she straddled his lap, a leg going either side.

It was a fitting example really, of the difference between her as a child and being back to her usual age. The occasional glimpses of innocence on her face as a child were long gone, along with the soft rounded features of youth that had turned him into a fool. In its place were sharper angles and cunning eyes that displayed a coquettish expression that had a very different effect on him- one that made his blood heat for her.

As adorable as she was as a child, he’d missed her. He’d missed this version. No matter how infuriating she could be.

“Happy to have me back?” She questioned, but her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

His arms settled dangerously low on her hips and his smirk was challenging as he replied, “Now I can argue with you and not feel bad.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said and laid on her best doe-eyed look. Her eyes shifted in an instant, from seductive to innocent, all glossy and defenceless, something that didn’t fit the current position they were currently in.  

He’d never let her know that even as an adult, that look still had him. Perhaps in a different way now, but he’d keep it hidden through grimaces and sharp words, otherwise he’d never know peace again.  

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” he snorted, hands pulling her body tighter against his and the time for bickering had come to an end.

Their kiss was easy, almost leisurely, as they basked in the feeling of each other’s lips, of being back to normal. Although it wasn’t something that stayed that way for long. Gradual pecks started to linger, searching for something more as lips slid against the others and closed mouths parted as hands moved with intent, to places far from innocent.

There was no rush, they had all evening without disruptions, so that was why he pulled away to say:

“Besides, I prefer this angry, nagging version.”

What he hadn’t missed was how strong her punches were.

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

I mean, jokes on Zoro, he’s always been wrapped around her finger. He just put up less of a fight when she’s small.

In case I go quiet again, I’ll leave you with this- I’ve been writing something that I’m very excited about and can’t wait for you all to see, but until then, enjoy this ZoNami crumb.

As always, forgive any errors.

Thanks for reading.

[selfships-in-spanish]

The Queen of Demons 4/?

Pairing: Erwin Smith x OC, Levi Ackerman x OC

Rating: Mature (the rating will go up as the story advances! But it will totally be explicit ;D I even have some smut chapters already half written woooo! But right now just in case)

Warnings: None for now, but sexist and misogynist upbringing (Eva's father is a huge asshole).

Word Count: 8885

ALSO POSTED ON AO3

A/N: FUCKING FINALLY. I was so stuck and had a severe writer's block, but here it is! Part 4! I feel like my writing went down a bit but I hope to make up for it on the next one. Finished, not perfect! I hope you enjoy this one and were we can see a bit more of the vets and the 104 kids ôô

CHAPTER 4: WINTER BLOOM

The pale morning rays of sunlight woke the Princess up, mumbling and turning to her side. Eva heard the distant chirps of birds flying by, as well as the sounds of the village being already busy. The neighing of horses, carts being pulled around, setting up the shops, the rooster screeching…

Wait.

That’s not what she usually woke up to.

Back home she only heard the birds and some maids, especially Flora when she would come barging in and opening the thick curtains of her windows, letting the sun hit right in Princess’ face as she knew how much Eva despised being woken up like this, hollering: “What–”

“–A great morning this is, your Royal Sleepy Highness!”

Ah, there she was.

Eva attempted a reply but curled up further into the duvet and blankets.

“Oh c’mon, Princess! We’ve got a busy day today! Lots of exciting things!”

“Exciting for you.” Eva mumbled covering her head with the thick bedding.

Flora snorted, rolling her eyes. Without any kind of remorse, Flora grabbed the end of the duvet and blankets and unceremoniously pulled them off the Princess, enjoying the irritated groan she let out as Eva tried to blindly find something to cover herself with.

“Rise and shine!” Flora said in a singsong, stepping out of the Princess’ reach as she tried to kick her leg.

“How can you be so happy and chirpy so early in the morning?” Eva gave up, sighing and rolling out of the oddly comfortable bed; Eva fell asleep earlier than she anticipated.

“Oh, spare me the dramatics! We gotta get you to eat breakfast and prepare you for—“

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yeah, sure thing Princess, as if you don’t gobble up like a duck when you are nervous.” Flora handed Eva her robe, guiding her to the bathroom where a basin already filled with water and a cloth awaited her.

Once her morning routine finished, Eva padded to the living room where breakfast had been already served. It smelled heavenly.

“I don’t gobble like a duck.” Eva sat down, huffing displeased.

The Princess served herself some warm bread, eyeing the jams and butter with a watering mouth. Flora set a steaming cup next to her before sitting down in front of the Princess.

“Sorry, not coffee yet.”

Eva sighed.

The Princess cut some more bread for her handmaiden, sharing the spreading knife after she was done with it. On the first bite Eva hummed, satisfied with the taste and texture. Freshly baked bread was the absolute best. Flora leisurely poured sugar over the butter, her smile widening at the sugary mess. Eva frowned, chewing.

“It’s still a wonder how your teeth haven’t rotten out yet.”

“Ah, family thing for sure!” Flora took a heartly bite of the sweet monstrosity in her hands. “Gramps still has his teeth intact and covers everything in sugar when he gets his hands on some.”

Eva’s lips curled into a grimace.

“I love sweets but I don't think that is healthy.”

“You just don’t appreciate the flavour.”

“I sincerely doubt there’s any flavour left in that.” Eva nodded towards Flora’s loaf of bread.

The handmaid shrugged, biting down on it and making a show just to irk the Princess further. Eva exaggerated a gag which made Flora giggle.

Three knocks on the heavy wooden door announced the Eldians coming to pick her up. Eva sighed as she watched Flora stand up from the chair next to the Princess and walk to the door, opening it with a short bow and a smile. Eva sat straighter as the looming and bulky figures of the Eldian warriors came into her view, entering the lodgings provided temporarily for her and her handmaiden. They were the same as yesterday, the giant called Mike, the female warrior that caught her attention, Nanaba, and another man Eva couldn’t remember the name right now.

The three warriors bowed, Nanaba and the other warrior waiting right next to the open door as Mike approached her. The giant warrior waved to the door, the message of “you have to go outside” quite clear in his movements. His face did not give away any of his thoughts, keeping a neutral expression as he watched the Princess stand up and follow him, Flora right behind her with giddy steps.

Flora should have been born a Princess or a noble, her happy and open disposition towards everything and everyone would win anyone over, as well as the way she found happiness in the little things of life. How Eva wished she had Flora’s positive mindset.

“Alright, ready for your big day?” the handmaiden asked in hushed whispers, something both women mastered from years of court banquets.

“Of course not. I want to run right back inside.”

“You’re such a big—” Flora was cut off by Eva’s gasp.

Flora raised her eyes just in time to see the giant warrior leaning way too close to the Princess’ personal space and… sniff. The Princess had turned around, disbelief and stupefaction etched on her face at the nerve this big, brute man had to go sniffing people without… without their consent. Eva found it uncouth, impolite, and her cheeks blazed in indignation.

Mike leaned back, humming, pleased at something Eva wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Nanaba immediately chastised the big man, kicking his leg and nagging at him as he shrugged, crossing his arms and looking slightly guilty. At the scene unfolding right outside the house, people began to stop and watch, and Eva felt her blood run cold at the sound of the Chief’s laugh coming from down the stairs. Hans and Friederich were already there, and the youngest of the two brothers was about to march upstairs, his displeased frown deepening. The Chief nodded to Moblit, motioning him to rush to them and clear misunderstandings. Levi rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue.

“Your Highness, please accept our deepest apologies.” Moblit hastily bowed, an apologetic smile in his lips. “Mike here has this habit of… uh, sniffing people.”

“Is he implying I smell?” Eva’s mouth was pulled into a tight line. Flora did not spend as long as she did grooming her and using those soaps and perfumes Eva loved for this man to mock her handmaiden’s efforts. Besides, she kept her hygiene up to date, thank you very much.

“No! Not at all, Your Highness. Mike has a great and sharp sense of smell, like a… ah, what’s the name... ah, wolf! Like a wolf, and although I do concede that it may be considered rude, he just does it from force of habit.”

Eva raised her brow skeptically.

“He meant no disrespect, Your Highness. It’s his way to say that he uh… he welcomes you.” Moblit ventured a quick glance towards the man in question, muttering something as he almost imperceptibly nodded towards the Princess with wide impatient eyes.

Mike huffed, but muttered something back to Moblit in a deep voice. Next to him, Nanaba nodded, pleased.

“He apologises, Your Highness, and compliments you.” that piqued Eva’s curiosity. “He says you smell comforting, of lavender and honey. That’s something he appreciates, with his sharp sense of smell he can easily get overwhelmed by strong scents.”

“Ah, that must be troublesome.” Eva turned to face Mike and inclined her head. “My apologies for acting harshly.” But Eva still thought her response was totally justified. A warning beforehand would have been nice, and she still had her pride.

Mike answered with one curtly bow of his head of his own.

“Indeed.” Moblit decided the issue was resolved and lifted his arm towards the Chief and the Gottesreichan Princes, watching the whole ordeal with amused expressions sans Friederich. He still looked murderous. “Please, after you, Your Highness.”

That shocked Eva. Normally back at Gottesreich she would walk behind the men and respectfully listen to whoever was talking, and even after visiting other countries, that rule still applied, or maybe they weren’t willing to go against Gottesreich. Either way, Eva was taught to never disrespect its citizens and rulers when visiting foreign kingdoms from her brothers, and the Princess always willed herself to follow the Kingdom’s culture and customs out of respect, despite what her father said on more than one occasion. Her brothers taught her to be respectful, and she would not ignore them, and even less be an embarrassment for her brothers. Summoning with all her will a composed mask on her face, Eva dared to take the lead and walk down the snow covered stairs to where her brothers and Chief awaited. Flora walked right behind her, always keeping a watchful eye to her skirts and cloak, in case they may get in the way.

The crunching of her steps on the snow were deafening for the Princess. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. She was used to having all eyes on her, from courts and dances and banquets, from nobles and princes trying to win her father’s good graces, but having the people of Eldia stop and observe every single move she was doing felt suffocating. One slip and she was probably doomed in their eyes.

Eva stopped right in front of the men, bowing respectfully.

“Good morning, my Lord. Brothers.” Moblit’s voice softly translated for the Chief, who didn’t take his eyes away from her the entire descent.

The Chief returned the greeting, bowing as well.

“I hope you had a pleasant sleep, your Highness.”

“I did. Thank you, my Lord.” Eva did not find the need to tell him how she tossed and turned around, her mind restless, musing over yesterday’s events –his touch– or how she missed her pillows back at the palace. The Chief seemed pleased, although there was a glint in his eyes that he most certainly caught the lie. Damn it.

“If there is anything we can offer to help you get settled and to further accommodate you, please do not hesitate to say so, your Highness. I understand it may be unpleasant being so far away from home and your people.” Eva was slightly taken aback at how the Chief seemed to be understanding of her situation, contrary to what she had heard and been told a husband would be once she married. The Princess didn’t want to let her hopes up in case the fall was to be harder than it would already be.

“Thank you for your consideration, my Lord. I will do so in case I need it.” Eva knew she wouldn’t say a thing, her stubbornness always playing against her favour.

The Chief seemed pleased enough with her answer. He turned slightly so he was facing the three Gottesreichan siblings, addressing the rest of the foreign party as well. Moblit translated for them all, and Flora managed to contain her excited hops when the Chief officially announced the start of their walk around the village.

Much to the Princess’ dismay, the Chief had offered up his right arm for her to hold on as they began the tour, an encouraging smile on his lips as if saying “go on, I will not harm you”. Eva had hoped her brothers would keep him distracted enough so she could trail behind and listen, observing her surroundings, but no such luck. It seemed like here in Eldia they weren’t as reticent of closeness as they were in Gottesreich, and women were treated differently.

The Chief was still as big and massive as the Princess remembered from yesterday’s banquet, thinking it was her own nerves and wine that exaggerated her memories, but the way her hands had trouble meeting on the Chief’s arm told her otherwise. The Eldian leader kept a slow pace, mindful of his companion and her shorter legs, as he began explaining their village and the way it was structured.

The Eldian architecture was entirely different from the one used in Gottesreich, as well as the distribution of the village itself. Where Eva was used to narrower streets with houses sharing walls, clustered, messy (although the closer to the castle, the better were planned the streets and districts), mossy cobblestones, puddles around the corners with barrels and wooden crates, the townspeople walking as merchants and shopkeepers yelled their offers to the passersby, pennants hanging from side to side of the streets with the Kingdom’s colours… Here in Eldia the streets were wider, the buildings lower in height which gave a sense of the town being less claustrophobic since you could easily see the scenery and the sky. Wooden fences, dark roofs made of slates, the streets made of the earth itself with grass heartily growing on both sides and wooden planks on the floor to help create a more visible path on certain parts, but one could clearly see the cart’s marks as well as the horses pulling them.

Although everything was covered in thick layers of snow, Eva had no doubts it would be a magnificent sight in spring, with the imposing mountains surrounding the village and the vast fields littered with the farmer’s homes composing a picture deserving of a painting. It was rurally beautiful. Different, more primitive, if she took into consideration her own Kingdom’s ways, but efficient. The Princess was sure this level of coordination would not be able to be achieved without years of honing this lifestyle, and it honestly intrigued her, her curiosity piqued. Eva hoped this curiosity and wonder for the novelty wouldn’t disappear quickly and would stay with her until her situation was more bearable, or grew accustomed to.

Moblit’s gentle voice guided the Gottesreichan guests through the Chief’s explanations, looking at the direction where the Chief pointed with his free hand while speaking, often stopping to further go into details about their dwellings, their storage facilities and barns, the marketplace with the villagers already busy with their daily chores. The town’s market was lively and uniquely beautiful, wooden stalls standing proud with all the goods on display. There was all kinds of variety, going from food to parchment and candles and clothes, to jewelry or tools for butchers or farmers.

The Princess’ heart thumped wildly on her chest, trying her hardest not to show her rising panic at the fact that she was walking around the village on the Chief’s arm, having everyone’s eyes on her as they kept their tour. The villagers stopped their chores midway to stare at them, whispering and chattering as they went through. Some respectfully greeted their Chieftain, mostly the warriors patrolling the streets doing a particular salute upon seeing them, but the villagers smiled and bowed, the children present doing the same as they tried to contain their laughs while not being able to keep their eyes off the scene in front of them. The Chief continued their walk after answering the greetings.

An excited giggle, followed by a shriek of what sounded like a name, startled the guests and their hosts, even. The Gottesreichan soldiers took a defensive stance, ready to pounce on the source of it as well as attack if necessary; their priority was defending the monarch's lives at any costs. Eva couldn’t help the scared jump her body did upon hearing the childish laugh and running steps on frozen ground getting nearer, gasping loudly in fear and tightly clutching the Chief’s arm with her tiny hands as she unconsciously leaned on him, seeking protection.

The Chief was ready to make her stand behind him and face the attacker, but stopped immediately upon seeing it was one of the children from before. The boy had rosy cheeks, the colour intensified by both the running and the cold, and probably the excitement too, and had a wide smile that was missing a few teeth. The kid was holding something in his hands, hidden behind his back, and with the eagerness of a child waiting for the exact moment an adult would pay them attention to show them what they got in their hands, the little boy almost shoved his possession to the Chieftain and the Princess.

Once he saw what the boy had in his hands, the Chief visibly relaxed, shoulders shaking in silent amusement at how a little kid got the best of them all. The Princess still looked uncertain, clutching and pressing herself into him. Eyes wide and breath a little bit short, Eva looked down at the kid’s hands. He was holding a… flower?

A flower in the middle of winter? How was that even possible?

The kid kept his eyes on the Princess, urging her to take his present with quick words and lifting his hands further up, his smile widening. Eva thought herself of a stupid fool. How could she have been scared of a child? What harm could he do? Unless… No, unless nothing. This was a little boy offering a flower, a beautiful one that Eva had never seen before. Father would not tarnish the good intentions of a child.

Upon not having, still, immediate response from the Princess, the kid hopped on his spot, irremediably making Eva show a timid smile; she could never resist a toothy grin and sparkling eyes.

One look at the mother told Eva how this was not planned and how the kid had ran off on his own volition. Everyone on the street stopped dead on their tracks and silently watched the exchange, not even daring to breathe. The mother’s wide eyes jumped from the Princess to the Chief, then to his child, not knowing if she should run and apologise to their guests or wait and have faith in their leader and his soon to be wife.

Eva understood quickly this was to be a decisive moment for her and her stay in Eldia. One wrong movement that led to misinterpretation could be beyond disastrous. She had to be good, she had to fulfill her duty and be a good wife and—

Eva took a deep breath. Focus. Don’t succumb into panic.

Fighting her burning cheeks out of her own embarrasment, Eva let go of her almost deadly grip on the Chief’s arm and faced the little boy alone. Keeping her smile on her lips, Eva approached the child with small steps, stopping right in front of him and elegantly folding her gloved hand on top of the other. The kid kept talking at a dizzying speed, and when he noticed how the Princess furrowed her brows in confusion, while still maintaining her smile, he understood not a word he was saying reached her.

Humming to himself while thinking hard, the kid’s face illuminated itself when an idea came to him. He hastily pointed to the flower and then to the Princess, practically shoving it in her hands. Eva looked down and then up at the kid, pointing at herself with a questioning look. The child nodded effusively, shoving the poor flower again.

Eva couldn’t help the soft chuckle upon his enthusiasm, never being able to resist a kid. The Princess took it, making sure to do a slightly exaggerated bow, lifting slightly the skirts and careful enough to not crumple the flower, so the little boy understood her gratitude. The kid happily ran back to his mother, skipping and laughing as he began talking at that incredible speed while his mother looked beyond relieved. Eva did a curtly bow to her too, trying to show the mother no offence of any kind was taken.

Returning to the Chief’s side, Eva brought the flower to her nose. She always did that whenever she came by one, out of habit, and was surprised by the faint but sweet fragrance it emitted. Eva would have to ask about them, knowing Gottesreich did not have any flowers blooming in winter.

Just when they were about to resume their walk, more excited giggles and shouts could be heard. Other children ran away from their mothers and fathers, holding the same flower in their tiny hands. Eva found herself surrounded by eager eyes and smiles, shoving their flowers up so the Princess would pick them up too. Some would tug at her cloak so she would pick theirs first, others jumping on their spot, other’s patiently waiting their turn as they marvelled on the fabric and embroidery of her pale blue winter dress.

The Princess ended up with a small bouquet of flowers, the children shouting and running happily back to their parents once they delivered their gifts. She did not know what to do with them now, and frantically looked at the Chief and her brothers, then to Flora when her siblings had confused expressions, for a clue. The Chieftain had an amused glint in his eyes, but half his mind was busy thinking about something. Finally, Flora took pity on her Princess and walked up to her with a smile on her lips.

“Let’s show off those gifts, shall we, your Highness?”

Flora expertly secured the flowers on the Princess’s up braid, the pure white and calm blue of the flowers an unexpected but welcome complement to the Princess’s own choice of wardrobe. Moblit later explained, upon inquiring about the flowers herself, that they were a special kind of flower that bloomed on their woods only during the cold season, earning the name of “winter miracle”. It also symbolized the welcoming of new people into their tribe, as its sister in the warmer weather.

Eva was touched, knowing not that those kids wanted to welcome her upon hearing she was to become one of them soon. The Princess only wished the adults would have the same feelings towards her.

Thankfully the walk around the village suffered no more incidents and surprises, and Eva was able to delight herself on the market and what it had to offer; she definitely had to go there often and take her sweet time. The quills looked absolutely exquisite, and those were the famous travelling books she heard so much about! Even the jeweller had a beautiful selection of earrings, bracelets, necklaces and rings that the Princess had no idea the Eldians were capable of such craftsmanship. She particularly liked the brooch with the silhouette of a bird resting on a golden branch, the gold of the bird expertly mixed with beautiful midnight blue gemstones, resembling feathers. Also the hairpins! They were absolutely marvelous. The jeweller himself was both pleased and proud that the Gottesreichan Princess liked his products.

Their next destination amazed and terrified the Gottesreichan guests.

Eldia’s military prowess was legendary, and right now, they had its base and core right in front of them. The training grounds were a massive expanse of terrain, with barracks, thoroughly used wooden dummies, racks full of well-cared training weapons of all kinds, archery ranges, horse-riding training fields… and each and every single space was filled to the brim with warriors and trainees.

It was frightening to see how Eldia’s army was composed of perfectly trained warriors with wide expertise in the arts of combat. Not a movement wasted, not a single error in the placement of their feet to maintain balance. Strength, power, endurance, knowledge— every skill needed to become a perfect warrior, it was taught here in the massive training fields.

The Chief walked them right through the training grounds, nodding towards the warriors and fresh trainees who ceremoniously saluted him and the entourage he was leading. It was the same salute the Gottesreichan guests had seen in their entire walk around the unexpectedly gigantic village: right hand closed in a fist over their hearts, left hand on the back, and a proud stance full of tenacity and devotion. The newest recruits surprised the royal siblings, full of young faces who couldn’t be older than 15, but with a fierce determination to learn and to prove themselves. All sizes, shapes and forms– if you were up to it, were ready to go through an intense training, it did not matter who you were: a farmer’s son, a baker’s daughter… if you dedicated your heart, trained hard and understood what values had an Eldian warrior, what a life meant, you were fit to become one.

They stopped to observe the fresh batch that just started training a few months back go through a hand to hand combat. The instructor, a tall and intimidating man, bald with prominent wrinkles on his forehead and very notorious dark circles under his eyes, yelled out orders to the recruits. Some flinched, some fought every fibre of their beings into not taking a step back –a few of them failing–, but some stood their ground with confident and resolved stares, bearing down the drilling of the grim and frightening man.

Upon seeing that their Chief, the veteran warriors and the Gottesreichan guests where watching them, the recruits swallowed down their fears and tried to impress their leaders and royal guests, trying to make a good and fearsome impression of what the Eldian training grounds and warriors were made of. Punches, kicks, throwing the opponent on the floor… the field became a controlled battlefield of snarls, growls and frustrated shouts that developed into determined grunts. The recruits’ clothes soon became soiled by a mix of sweat and dirt, as a result of their vigorous and energetic try of today’s exercises.

The Princess did not dare to voice it aloud, in fear of her thoughts being perceived as a critique and direct attack on the Eldian ways, but her heart shrank inside her chest at the sight of what must be the smallest, tiniest of the new recruits, a blonde girl with wide blue eyes like the sky above, go against a trainee twice her size. Eva involuntarily clenched her hands in apprehension on the Chief’s arm, eyes not able to look away from the imminent tragedy. She was too tiny to be there! That poor girl was surely to be beaten into a pulp, taken advantage of the fact that she was much weaker, much more smaller–

A large hand squeezed her tightly clasped ones, making the Princess tear away her concerned gaze, even if she thought it was impossible for her to do so, to look down and see the Chief’s one bury her own. The Princess immediately searched for the Chief’s eyes, surprised at how he was already gazing down on her and had a small reassuring smile on his lips, nodding towards the training field. Eva looked straight ahead, just in time to see the petite girl dodge and deliver a solid punch to her opponent, making the cadet stagger backwards and clutch their stomach in pain. It was still far from being perfect and devastatingly powerful, as Eldians were known for, but it was good enough for a start and for the tiny warrior’s size. A small breath of relief released itself from the Princess’ lungs.

It still shocked Eva to the core to see women amongst the military ranks and files of Eldia, and nobody questioning it. Apparently there weren’t any kind of laws to forbid them to enlist, or to do any other job that back in Gottesreich it was meant only for men. How could they do it? How could those brave women endure it? Eva had always been taught how them, the lesser, weaker sex, could not what a man could do, just because God said so in his holy words. Father was the High Priest of Gottesreich, Father preached the word of God, the Holy Scriptures, that he made memorise Eva the moment she began her intense training as the third Princess of Gottesreich. It was so deeply ingrained in her mind that the mere thought of thinking herself above a man and their role made the Princess want to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness from her God.

How far did the dissimilarities run between their nations? How could Father entrust her with his desire to enlighten the Eldians into the correct, pious path? Just the simple thought of questioning her husband-to-be and his ways chilled her entire body and soul. She just… couldn’t. Her father’s will confused Eva.

But still, deep down inside her, locked down and not even daring to let it see the light, she couldn’t help but to… envy them. Envy their freedom of choice, of options, of life. Could she ever be like them? Aspire to have their wide range of choices? Alternatives? Could she choose her own path? She had been taught since she was a little girl that she would spend her life in a home, with her husband and a child in her arms. Not travelling, not expanding knowledge, or meeting new people and cultures… Everything Father and the Governess told her reminded little Eva of a bird cage. Pretty, comfortable, enough to see what was beyond the bars… but a cage.

She learned to accept her fate quickly, not daring to cross Father ever again in her life.

Eva knew she was born in a privileged home. A castle. A Princess. Never hungry, never cold, only the best of the best for her. It only took a quick look beyond the capital to see how privilege fed and took care of her. All her whims and wishes met without hesitation. Not a single patch to fix on her dresses, her hairbrush not missing a single bristle and made of the best silver— a perfect, content life. All you have to do is your duty, Father said. Do what you were born to do. Your only purpose.

Make me proud of being your Father.

Bring glory to the Holy Kingdom.

She was made to be bred, she was made to bear children, heirs, she was made to be a leverage for deals, a bargain chip, as her mind whispered to her in her darkest moments, to bring prosperity and glory to the Holy Kingdom of Gottesreich. She was… She was…

“Your Highness?”

The Princess was brought back to the present by Moblit’s placid voice and the Chief’s gentle tug, as if she had been rooted there, staring at the warriors, and getting lost in her troubles instead of following her fiancé and Eldian hosts. They were staring at her. Everyone. At least it felt like everyone, even the animals. Her breath had caught in her lungs, her throat a hard knot she forced herself to swallow before speaking.

“My deepest apologies, my Lords.” Eva’s mind scrambled to find an appropriate excuse for her lack of manners and being caught zoning out. “I did not mean any disrespect by my actions or to show an unwillingness to follow this pleasant walk. I was simply transfixed by your warriors, admiring their tenacity and will.”

What a load of bullshit.

They all seemed to buy it. Not Flora, though. She could see right through Eva as if she had been made of glass. Her handmaiden would probably ask her about it later in the privacy of their own lodgings, but let it go for now, knowing it was no use to inquire about it in the middle of the village tour, even less in front of their hosts.

They resumed the walk, passing through the training grounds before turning to their right, strolling until they reached one of the biggest houses of the village. Moblit informed them it was where the sick and injured were taken care of. A house for the sick, a hospital. Gottesreich had its own physicians and doctors, but never a house dedicated for the sick, the poor. Eva knew the Palace had their own royal physicians, dedicated only to them, and the people needed to rely on the town’s doctors.

Eva wondered how did this hospital work. Did they dedicate a part of the taxes to it? Was it free? What remedies did they use? What—

One of the windows was slammed open, an excited yell coming out of it. Moblit let out a tired sigh, mumbling in Eldian, as if he knew exactly what was that about. Levi spoke too, the tone in his voice denoting annoyance. Eva felt the Chieftain chuckle, answering his right-hand man with something that made Levi snort.

A head poked out of the window, messy brown hair tied up in a scrambled ponytail. The stranger kept shouting, excited, continuous noises of delight coming out of their mouth. The person noticed the small entourage right down their window, and quieted down instantly, curious as to who were the ones standing there. Then, another excited screech, lurching their body almost out of the window as they enthusiastically waved down. Moblit let out a strangled noise, uselessly raising his arms as if he wanted to catch the over excited person dangling off the window.

Eva discreetly looked to her side, looking for an answer or explanation in the Chief’s eyes, but he was looking up with an amused smile. She used his distraction to look behind her, finding the exact confused expression on her handmaiden and brother’s faces. The Princess saw Flora quietly shrug her shoulders, and she was so tempted to join her, but refrained in case the Eldians caught her and found it impolite. The person on the window shouted something and disappeared inside, sounds of furniture being moved around reaching their ears. Moblit groaned, rubbing his temples.

A few minutes later the same person who had half their body out of the window came out from the main doors of the hospital. Levi discreetly stepped away, not wanting to be involved with the newcomer and the imminent events. He really wanted to go back to the privacy and tranquility of his own home, drink a nice cup of tea…

An excited exclamation followed by a strident laugh broke Levi’s long desired daydream. He watched their eccentric approach, wondering how their guests would react to them. Judging by how the delicate Princess gasped at anything that came running and loud, Levi guessed it would not go right. Mike silently joined him, crossing his arms as he, too, observed the catastrophe about to happen.

“Bets?” Mike’s low murmur made Levi snort.

“She will freak out.” Levi turned his head to amusedly stare at his fellow warrior. “Like she did with you.”

Mike scoffed, crossing his arms.

“C’mon, not you too. And I say she doesn’t, just to spite you.”

“Hah! Serves you right, you big-nosed moose.” Levi’s gaze fell back to the front.

“It was not my intention.” it truly hadn’t been. He couldn’t help it, Mike trusted his nose, knowing his instincts never failed him before. He had to know.

“Just, don’t go sniffing people.”

“I will not make such promises.” Mike’s lips curled into a smile, proud at the way he managed to make Levi’s shoulders briefly shake.

Both warriors kept watching the scene in front of them, with Moblit trying to save the situation from their beloved doctor’s clutches, quickly directing their attention to himself and his words. Everybody knew that Moblit had a reserved spot on their Goddesses’ paradise; nobody worked as hard as him, and was as skilled to manage the village’s resident genius doctor.

“Your Highnesses, it is my pleasure to introduce you to our doctor, Hange Zoë. They are the head of the hospital and–”

“IT IS PLEASURE TO MEET, HIGHNESSESES!” Hange cut the poor and exasperated Moblit out, excitedly looking from one sibling to the other. The royal hosts were surprised at the doctor’s broken Gottesreichan attempt, albeit enthusiastic.

Flora successfully covered an amused snort. Ardor! Fervor! Passion! Flora admired that in a person, and for now, Doctor Hange Zoë managed to catch her attention. The handmaiden was sure she could learn interesting things from this eager physician, and secretly wanted to see how Eva would react. It reminded her of her first week as the Princess’ handmaiden, chasing a scared and overwhelmed Eva down the corridors as she tightly clutched one of her precious books, wanting to volt out of any situation that involved a loud and chatty girl following her everywhere. Flora realises know that she had been a little bit insensitive to her poor friend, but in her defense she just wanted her Princess to live.

The eccentric doctor went from sibling to sibling, offering their hand for them to shake. Prince Hans took it surprisingly well, smiling warmly and shaking the offered hand with what would be considered a perfect grip, confident and secure, while Hange still kept letting out broken gottesreichan, not giving any thought to the mistakes. Friederich was confused, and as such, shook his hand with the same sentiment as he was feeling; the second Prince felt as if a strong wind knocked him out of his feet and all he could say was “huh?”.

But ah, Eva. Poor Eva. She had brief flashes of her childhood with Flora, of an overexcited girl running after her as she talked, and talked, and talked… until Eva began to enjoy her extroverted nature and secretly thanked her for dragging her out of her room or the library. But still, Doctor Hange Zoë managed to scare the living daylights out of her with their excited gasp and sparkling eyes. Eva clutched the Chief’s arm in a deathly grip for the second time that day.

Hange offered their hand out too, but then seemed to think about it. Did princesses shake hands too? Was it protocol? Well, Hange never truly cared about protocols, to be honest, Moblit usually took care of that. So maybe it was too forward? Should Hange bow? Did they thoroughly screw up in their eagerness–?

Eva raised her hand and took Hange’s as her brothers did, Forcing herself to paint a warm smile on her lips.

Her father and governess’ voices were screaming inside her head, louder than her own heartbeat. How dare you shake hands with a commoner, you, a princess of Gottesreich? A princess should never shake hands! Commoners must bow, must kneel, must–

“The pleasure is mine, doctor Zoë. I am afraid I do not know any word of Eldian yet, but thank you for your efforts. I hope to learn soon.” Eva would follow her brothers’ lead for now, as they discussed on their journey to Eldia. Father was not here. Father did not understand. If Eva was to settle here to start a new life and end it here, she could not start fights and discontent because of her father’s pride. It was the smart thing to do.

The coarseness of her father always upsetted her, even if she swallowed her discontent, not wanting to repeat that night.

Hange’s uncertain face instantly turned into a bright smile. They didn’t screw up! The doctor turned to say something to the Chief, who in return gained a brief smile. Then, Hange returned their attention to the siblings.

Levi was rendered speechless. He lost the stupid bet! Levi was sure the Princess would freak out upon Hange’s overly enthusiastic greetings, judging by how she had reacted earlier with Mike and his antics. He didn’t dare to turn to his left to see Mike’s moronic moustache smiling smugly at him.

“You owe me.” Mike’s grin could be heard in his voice.

“Shut up, you giant tree.” Damn it!

“Want come in? Show house?” Hange signaled to the main entrance of the Hospital, already thinking about the tour they would take the royal siblings and show how amazing their inventions and discoveries had been.

Should Eva say yes? No, that was arrogant of her, she couldn’t decide on a whim what or what to not do, even less without consulting it with her brothers or the Eldian leader. Didn’t the Eldians also have an itinerary already made for today? The people on the streets and outside the hospital were staring at them, curious about the scene in front of them. Eva was getting nervous. their stares were suffocating her, their attention adding more weight on her, her mind scrambling to find an appropriate response–

Moblit intercepted before Eva could begin, quickly saving the moment.

The Princess was grateful for it, feeling the weight of the decision on her shoulders diminish; she restrained her relieved sigh from escaping her lips, though. Moblit would handle it, thank God above! With a pang of pity in her heart, Eva watched Hange go from thrilled to crestfallen as Moblit spoke. Now she felt bad, knowing for sure they had the best intentions in their heart. Maybe the detour wasn’t that bad…?

But Hange immediately returned to their cheerful self.

“Must come other day! Question Erwin about it!” Hange clasped Eva’s hand in theirs, that exhilarated spark back in their eyes. “Must show you fun things!”

Eva pressed her lips into a tight, nervous smile and nodded, hoping it would be enough to quench Doctor Hange’s eagerness. Too forward! Too forward! Was this also an eldian thing? It seemed to do the trick, as they went back inside the hospital when an assistant called them from the door and enthusiastically waved goodbye.

“Apologies, your Highnesses.” Moblit deserved a raise and long vacations. It had been only a day, but it was clear for the gottesreichan guests that the poor man dealt with a lot, and it seemed that Doctor Hange occupied 80% of it. “I must ask for you to forgive Doctor Hange’s lack of protocol and take no offence by it. The Doctor really enjoys meeting new people and telling about their discoveries and new remedies.”

“No offense taken, Moblit. I’m sure Doctor Hange can make it up to us by showing us what they are so excited for, right?” Hans was genuinely interested, always asking the doctors and physicians back at the palace about everything, going as far as reading some books, although he understood half of it. He truly wanted to know Doctor Hange’s thoughts.

“Honestly, I’m curious now.” Friederich scratched his nose, mumbling. Hans sniggered, lowering his voice so only his brother and her sister’s handmaiden could hear him.

“You, willing to listen to non-battle-related things? Who are you and where is my dear brother?” Flora snickered, covering her mouth.

“Oi!” Friederich’s ears went red at the tips.

“We will have to come tomorrow, then.”

Moblit approached them, always with his calm smile on his face.

“May we continue, your Highnesses?”

Only when they resumed their tour, hearing Moblit talk with her brothers and the Eldian warriors escorting them, did Eva realise how Doctor Hange was wearing glasses.

Saying Eva was scared was not enough. Terrified? Frightened? Petrified? There was no adjective to describe the sheer terror those beasts instilled inside her heart. Those were not horses. No horse could be that monstrous size. Nope. No way.

She didn’t even reach the horse’s chest! And even one leg was as thick as her whole body! How did they even suppose she could get on one of them?

They were led to the village’s stables, where the stable hands and grooms had horses ready with their saddles. Each one of them had a different saddle pad, beautiful Eldian embroidery and motifs of golden and white thread on a teal fabric, most of them resembling the ones from the village’s houses, the themes of the needle work being mostly of mother nature herself. The leather of the saddles were beautifully taken care of, going from darker to lighter tints of brown, no doubt the artisans made a good work of the dyes and its delicate processes.

The horses looked healthy, robust and ready to be ridden by their masters. If Eva wasn’t as scared as she was, she would be admiring the animals and the pure strength they exuded.

Friederich was getting more invested into this part of the tour than the previous one. Yes, Eldia was beautiful and curiously different, but for Friederich, it was still boring; he had never been good at diplomacy and pleasantry visits. He had always heard of Eldia’s monstrous steeds, and was delighted to see such enormous and sturdy stallions, powerfully built and vigorous. You could see the raw power in them, and couldn’t wait to see what it felt to ride one of them. Maybe he could convince the Eldian Chief to trade some… Surely his enemies would piss themselves upon seeing a beast such as this charging against them. Yeah, maybe he could, preferably at the evening banquet. Now was not the time.

This was an important ritual for the Eldians.

Moblit gracefully explained how this was considered crucial when two souls got engaged in Eldia. Hunting was part of their culture, a huge one, and they would not bring shame to their traditions and ancestors. It was an art, and the Eldians deeply respected nature and what it provided for humankind, so the solemn air was palpable. For Eldians this was a trial, also. Those who proposed to their lovers would have to hunt a magnificent piece for their betrothed, to both show that they could provide for them and also have the strength, patience, wit and endurance used in hunting that would prevail in their lives.

Since the Chief was getting engaged to the Princess, he had to prove himself to her, so she would accept and approve of her future husband. This ritual held even more importance for who was performing it, and the villagers were actually curious about how well would their Chief perform; sadly, some couples had to use all three attempts to succeed. They hoped the Chief would succeed at his first try.

For Eva, it was basically a show to see how much of a peacock the man could be, not that different from those in court who would fawn themselves and their achievements to win her hand, and what came with it. Bitter? Maybe so. She was just tired of men, but would respect the Eldian tradition. After all, traditions were traditions, and one should always honour them, no matter what.

For Flora, it was just like her beloved romantic novels. A man proving their worth to their beloved? Man versus Beast? Oh, how she wished that for herself! Maybe one day she would find love here, in Eldia. Who knew what the future awaited for her?

“As tradition says,” Moblit spoke. “The future bride and groom must ride together, as the willingness of their souls to start a new journey.”

Eva froze.

No way.

No.

There had to be a mistake. She thought she would ride in a small carriage with Flora, as the men rode and discussed their matters. Her dress wasn’t suited for riding!

On cue, one of the stable hands brought a magnificent white stallion, it’s crest carefully brushed and not a single tangle and bit of dirt on it. It was bigger than the other horses, robust, and Eva understood now what people meant when they said pets and horses resembled their owners: a horse truly fit for a Chief; it had to be his judging by the proud look the man had on his eyes.

The beast patiently stood right in front of them, not showing an ounce of nervousness or uneasiness. How Eva wished she felt the same. She just wanted to bolt right out of there.

The Princess felt the Chief turn towards her, and automatically released her hold on his arm, although he kept her hand in his, gently guiding her towards the Chief’s own stallion. Eva didn’t want to get closer, even less mount on it. She was terrified! They stood in front of the beast’s head, admiring the noble profile and long golden lashes it had. Eva saw the Chief affectionately gaze at his horse, giving it a tender stroke on its muzzle. He looked back at Eva, inviting her to do the same, but the Princess remained rooted, frozen on the spot. The Chief nudged her to pet the stallion’s head by lifting her hand himself, slowly, always watching her reactions closely— the Chieftain knew he was pushing her, but Erwin believed this would help her lose a little bit of her fearful first impression.

Eva watched, between a mix of horror and wonder, how her gloved fingers brushed the horse’s muzzle, its heat warming up her palm. The stallion didn’t even flinch at the change, letting itself be pet. Eva was amazed, transfixed, not even aware of the Chief’s gaze on her. Slowly, a sensation of relief washed all over her body, feeling more secure now that the beast showed no trace of nervousness upon seeing a new face. Eva even let herself release a small smile, even though her heart was still pounding fiercely inside her chest.

More horses were brought to them, each warrior taking the reins of their own steed, as well as new horses for the Princes to ride. Friederich was beyond excited, eyes going from head to rear of the enormous beast he was lent to ride. He looked like a child in a candy shop back at the Capital.

Everyone waited for the Chief to mount first, as tradition dictated. The solemn air felt like a pressing stone on the Princess, not truly knowing what she was supposed to do besides having to ride with him. Should she say something? Perform a certain move? But the Princess stood rooted there, letting her never-fading anxiety begin to swallow whole again.

The Chief prepared himself to mount on, grabbing the pommel with his left hand and easily hoisting himself up when he set his foot on the stirrup. Every move he did looked effortless, as if even a child could do that with their eyes closed. If they thought Eva could achieve such levels, they were going to be thoroughly disappointed. The Chief extended his hand to the Princess, signaling her to come closer and join him on the horse.

The question is: how the hell is she supposed to get on it?

Moblit did not give any clues or hints about it, and everyone respectfully watched as the Princess approached the Chief with small steps. The Eldian leader never looked away from her, and she truly reminded him of a scared fawn.

What came next was a blur for the Princess. One moment she was standing right beside the Chief, timidly taking his hand and raising her other one to try to reach the pommel as the Chief did, her foot raising too to set on the lowered stirrup, and on the next moment Eva found herself being lifted as if she weighted nothing, strong arms pulling her up, easily turning her so she sat astride the horse with her back pressed against his chest.

Eva couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of his broad and strong chest snugly pressed against her back, despite the layers of thick clothing and cloaks between them. Eva did not pay attention to everyone else getting on their horses, or how Friederich couldn’t help the boyish grin on his lips, or how Flora turned beet red when she was made to mount on the same horse as the second Prince of Gottesreich, her confident and self-assured attitude gone for a moment. She couldn’t, not with how the Chief righted her stance with gentle hands, or how he straightened her own dress skirts and cloak without being prompted to do so, or how he guided her gloved hands to the crest and horn, so she had something to hold on to, even if the arms that caged her in wouldn’t let her slip and fall. The cold was forgotten for a moment, as well as her nervous tension.

Prompting the beast to an easy gait, the Chief led the party outside the stables and onto the main street. That’s when Eva snapped out of her trance and quickly ventured a look towards her handmaiden, seeing her grip the crest of the horse she was on with red cheeks. Both women crossed looks, twin bewildered expressions greeting each other. Eva silently cheered for her friend, but was too occupied herself with her own troubles to even waggle her eyebrows to tease her handmaiden.

This was going to be a long day.

The main street greeted them with the eldian villagers gathered on the sides of it, creating a passageway of curious and expectant faces. Everyone looked like they were waiting for a signal, eyes glued to the Chief’s horse and its riders, fingers and feet fidgeting. When the Chief and the Princess passed the first bystanders, the whole wide street exploded into cheers and shouts and blue.

The villagers threw flowers on them and the horses’ hooves, smiling and clapping as they passed by. Eva recognised the winter flowers from before, the same she wore now on her braid, and watched the villagers cover the entire street in a mantle of blue and white. The Chief did not turn to greet or answer them, keeping his head and eyes straight ahead in a solemn show of respect towards their faith in him. That’s when Eva understood this was part of the hunting ritual too, bidding farewell and good luck to the couple about to engage in the ritual. So, to not be disrespectful towards their culture and traditions, Eva did the same, looking straight ahead towards the main gate, into the sky blue path. A flash of the Chieftains’ eyes crossed her mind. The same blue.

It truly was a beautiful sight.

[haileygarciasunshine]

Contradiction

Percy Jackson x Avengers Cross Over

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Written: February 22nd, 2021

Posted: February 22nd, 2021

Warning: None

Word Count: 1,294 

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Enemies to Friends to Lovers Trope.

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Author’s Note: Yes, I know the youngest age of the Camp Half-Blood campers, but for sake of my work I lowered it. I also know the restriction of crossing into camp. It’s all for the sake of piece.

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Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you had narrowly blocked another one of Percy’s blows. The thought of mistakenly asking him to train you flashed into your mind.

Wheezing, you placed your hands on your knees as you bent at the waist in an attempt to catch your breath.

“Having trouble keeping up, Y/L/N?” Percy teased flashing you his white teeth.

Snorting, you picked up your sword before swinging it in his direction. “Not a chance.”

The scorching summer sun, beat down on you the more you trained, while beads of sweat raced down your face soaking the neckline trickling down your back.

Once Percy had deemed you had enough training, you hurriedly made your way to the showers. The feeling of excitement washing over you as you thought about a cold shower.

---

After dinner, Grove found you and convinced you to sneak away with your group of friends to a local bookstore, in the city.

As soon as you entered the store, there was a small ring of a bell that echoed off the walls. Glancing up, you made a mental note of how long it had been since you had last been in a store that had a real bell above the door.

“Welcome.” One of the cashiers greeted barely glancing up from her register, locking eyes with your small group.

“Thanks,” Grover smirked, nodding his head at her. In a mere matter of seconds, the cashiers' giggles filled the shop, as Grover flirted with her.

Turning your attention back to your friends, you let out a sigh as they were nowhere to be seen. Knowing Annabeth, she had probably dragged Percy towards her favorite section of books, piling them in his arms.

Shaking your head, you glanced around before venturing up the spiral stairs to the second level of the book store. The second level was perfect for customers to gaze out of the second-story windows, as well as having a more peaceful reading experience in the store. Oversized chairs and coffee tables were littered around the level. 

Letting out a comfortable sigh, you began venturing down the isles in search of some undiscovered treasures of yours. Finding an area, you began plucking books out one by one as you read their synopsis. 

Once you had felt content with your book selection, you searched for the nearest chair before you burrowed yourself as best as you could into it. Picking up one of the books, you began reading it as you awaited one of your friends to come and alert you they were ready to get going.

“Figured I could find you here.” A familiar voice spoke wearily. 

Not wanting to look up, you didn’t want your calming state to be interrupted.

“Can we sit?”

His question catching you off guard. Finally raising your eyes from the text, you gazed over the edge of the book, locking Y/E/C with Steve’s icy ones.

“This is Bucky.” He spoke motioning towards the lengthy built man. His hair loosely framing his face. “Buck this is Y/N,”  Steve smirked as he gazed between his two friends.

Closing the book, you placed it on top of the pile of books you had placed on the table. Standing up, you extended your hand towards the brunette. 

Bucky gazed at you, ignoring your hand with a scoff. “I’m going to go find a book.” He grumbled, removing himself from the small gathering.

Steve let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, he’s not normally like this.”

You let out an unconvinced hum. “Right...Well, what can I do ya for?”

Letting out a chuckle, he maneuvered to occupy one of the chairs in front of you. “I... We actually need your help.”

Furrowing your eyebrows together in confusion, you glanced in the direction Bucky had left. “We?”

“The Avengers.”

---

"Y/N, you made it!” Tony exclaimed rushing towards you as he pulled you in for a hug. 

You quickly wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he lifted you off the ground. The sound of your giggles bouncing off the walls.

“I’ve missed you, kid,” Tony muttered into your hair.

“The feeling’s mutual.” 

“What are you doing here?” Bucky sounded from behind you.

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t bother turning to face him.

“You know, if you keep rolling your eyes they’re going to get stuck.” 

Scoffing you shook your head. “Whatever you say, gramps.”

“Guys, can you please behave for this meeting,” Steve asked his voice making it clear he was already feeling agitated.

Keeping your comments to yourself, you nodded your head before taking a spot between Tony and Bruce at the conference table. While Bucky sat directly across from you. 

As Steve spoke, you felt your mind wandering to other places as well as feeling antsy. Every so often, you would adjust to a different position on your chair, while letting out a sigh.

Moving to adjust once more, you felt a sting in your leg as someone had kicked you. Frowning, you made the mistake of looking at Bucky. A devilish smirk was drawn on his lips. Narrowing your eyes, you sent him a glare. Silently encouraging him to keep up his actions.

“Now, for those of you who aren’t aware, I would like to introduce our friend, Y/N,” Steve spoke motioning towards you, as claps from the table sounded. “She is a Demi-God-”

“I’m sorry, Y/N’s a what?” Bucky screeched, holding a hand up stopping Steve in his tracks.

Whipping your head in his direction, your heart began pounding out of your chest, as you felt tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“Demi-God?” Bucky questioned his voice dripping like venom. Crossing his arms along his chest, he leaned back in his chair shooting daggers at you. 

“As is Half-God and Half-Mortal..” Steve spoke hoping to calm Bucky. “Or in Y/N’s case. Half-Goddess.”

“Half?” Bucky snorted. “Why do we need a Half-Goddess when we have a full God.” He spat raising a challenging eyebrow in your direction. “What can a half anything offer us?”

Tears had snuck out the corners of your eyes as you let out a quiet sob. Bucky wasn’t the first to make you feel as if you weren’t good enough as a Demi-God, but his did hurt the most.

Standing up promptly from the table, you rushed out of the room not listening to the disembodied voices call out to you.

“Way to go, Manchurian Candidate.” Tony spat while glaring at Bucky.

---

Sometime the ill-fated meeting, Steve had unsuccessfully attempted to get into contact with you and apologize.

“What are we doing here?” Bucky questioned his voice naturally coming out hostile.

“We’re here so you,” Steve glared at him. “Can apologize to Y/N.”

Sam snorted. “Man, I still can’t believe you managed to offend a Goddess.”

“Half-Goddess.” Bucky sighed in correction.

“Half-Goddess, Full-Goddess, what’s the difference?” Sam questioned rolling his eyes. 

“Well her abilities-” 

Sam quickly cut off Bucky. “What does it matter to you anyways, Barnes? You’re Half-Cyborg.”

Tony let out a bellowing laugh, clapping Sam on the back in approval before Steve let out softer belts of laughter. While Bucky muttered under his breath about his hate for Sam.

“You’re just mean to her because you like her,” Sam spoke.

“I do not!” Bucky defended.

“Face it, Barnes, you can’t help but be attracted to powerful independent women.” Sam shrugged. “Let’s look at Natasha for instance. How long did it take for you to get over her?”

“We are not, talking about my love life.” Bucky snarled.

“Easy there Cyborg.” Sam held his hands up in defense. “I was just trying to help you out.”

The small group ventured through the forest. Seeing the arc the four men passed underneath making their way into Camp Half-Blood.

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[lovelywingsart]

First Impressions

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They)--

Ah, my first attempt at a story on here! I've got an entire storyline for them, but let's see how this first one goes...! QuQ I'm definitely more of an artist than I am a writer, but I hope everyone likes it...! I'll definitely post the rest at some point but for now I'm leading with this one aldfjghjk-

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*Warnings?: Slight angst? Potentially life-threatening 'testing', mention of memory loss, injury

Summary: Emelia was a worker for Umbrella Corporation Europe, an Engineer and technician, before having been kidnapped by Miranda during a 'trip' to Romania. All of a sudden, she woke up in a large area... Where was she? Who was this man that had appeared out of the darkness? And why couldn't she remember anything?

Darkness.

Darkness and pain...

Emelia woke with a pained gasp, almost choking in loose dirt as it was kicked up by her movements. She scrambled to a kneeling position, coughing and wheezing. There was pain with each breath, she found, and she tried harder to contain her hacking. Once the coughs died down, she managed to look up and around. There was... nothing. Maybe a few parts of machinery along the walls here and there... She looked around frantically. Where the hell was she?? It almost looked like a strange chamber of sorts...

"H... Hello...?" She called, her voice gravely from the strain on her throat.

She couldn't see a thing, though something about her body felt... odd. She couldn't remember a thing about getting here... Hell, she could barely remember anything except her name... DID she remember her name?? She looked down at herself, seeing dark clothing and feeling a small patch on her shoulder as she reached up to rub it. She tugged the patch closer to get a look at it, but still couldn't remember the odd-looking octagon shaped symbol. Another once-over led her to a patch on her chest, and she sighed. Great, a nametag... At least that was taken care of.

"Hello...?" Emelia tried again, this time met with a chuckle.

"Ah, you're awake!" A man's voice called out with a surprised glee. Startled, she looked up to see a dark figure stand along what was very quickly becoming seen as a steel pathway along the wall that lead into stairs. He stood in front of an open door that let in a dim light, his silhouette showing that he wore a large jacket and a hat, but she could barely see much else. Beside the man was a large object... A hammer?? But her attention stayed on the figure, watching as a glowing orange spot moved, indicating smoking of some sort. The man seemed to lean over a railing as he looked down at her.

"Where... Where am I...?" She asked, panic growing in her chest as her eyes became adjusted to the darkness once she tore her eyes away from him. It was definitely a large room of some sort, but... underground...? Her surroundings were stone... Stone and metal scraps, with piping along the walls themselves. The walls and ceiling had been chipped away, the marks of axes or hammers still evident in the rough rock texture, and a massive industrial fan was imbedded into the wall at her far left. The piece of equipment was still, but she had a feeling she wouldn't have been alive if it were active.

She suddenly flinched with a breath, causing her to cough once more and press a hand to the middle of her chest. This wasn't normal... she could feel... SOMETHING inside her chest. WAS it inside...? Maybe it was her imagination... She looked up as she heard another chuckle, before jumping as there was a small explosion above her. She looked up in time to see a small mass of falling stone, managing to jump and roll out of the way with a scream to avoid them as they landed with a *CRUNCH* . She looked back up at him, her eyes wide with fear.

"What the bloody hell is going on...?!" She finally yelled, managing to push herself up to a stand with a pained grunt. "Who... Who are you...?!"

"This, Sweetheart, is a test." The man said. "I want to see why she sent you here. Just play along, and you'll be fine!" She watched him flick his wrist towards the ceiling, and another explosion was heard.

Emelia looked up to see yet another cluster of rocks falling, and this time she ran. She heard laughter from the man as soon as the rocks landed, along with two other explosions. She stopped along the wall for a single moment before pushing off again as the stones fell, nearly catching her under them. A third went off, and she was nearly blown back by the force of them landing too close for comfort. She gave small grunts of pain as small bits of rock flew and hit her from breaking on impact, holding her arm and feeling a warm, wet sensation. There was a snicker from the railing.

"Well, you're not that fast..." The man commented, seemingly unimpressed. "But you're not a Lycan."

She glared up at him with tears threatening to fall from frustration and dust.

"You're crazy...!!!" She yelled. He drew back slightly, only to laugh once more.

"What makes you say that?" He asked, nodding his head slightly. More small explosions went off, and he watched as the falling rocks seemed to trail her as she ran.

She stopped as she came face to face with another heap of fallen rubble, turning to run, only to find metal scraps being torn from the ground to block her path. The same happened on her other side, and suddenly she was trapped. Breathing was difficult... It was as if something was blocking her lungs... She was nearly hyperventilating from panic. She looked around frantically, bleeding from small cuts due to smaller rocks. It wasn't until she looked at her forearm that she noticed, the cuts were... healing? She watched as her skin sealed itself slowly, leaving little to no mark save for a small, white scar and the blood that had previously been pouring from it. She froze as she watched more cuts seal and bruises form, now more terrified than she was. What... What WAS she...?? She clearly wasn't human... In fact, she barely remembered BEING human... But she felt as if she was, or at least used to be...

With tears now streaming down her dirt covered face, she looked up with fury.

"WHO ARE YOU??!!" She screamed, not noticing as her own voice seemed to distort itself. She did notice, however, as a large spasm shot through her right arm. The man chuckled as she moved quickly to hold onto it as it jerked away from her body slightly.

"Now things are getting interesting..." he said, leaning over the railing once more. "If you survive, I'll tell you everything. Think of it as a prize."

"If I... WHAT?!" She stared up at him, her face that of disbelief. But she couldn't hold the stare, instead returning her focus on her spasming arm and nearly screaming in horror at the feeling of... SOMETHING erupting from the skin of her chest. The spasms shot up her right jaw shortly after, and she swore she felt her teeth elongate... She only looked up as she heard a rumbling, followed by another large explosion directly above her. Time seemed to slow down as she realized she had nowhere to run... The falling rubble would have crushed her entirely. She felt fear and anger course through her body as she watched the stones fall, instinctively holding up her arms in defense.

In a split second, everything stopped. The dust settled and there was no sound, even from the man watching over her. In fact, he looked... disappointed. As if a new toy of his had been broken. And yet, as he began to push himself away from the railing, there was a low growl from the rubble. He froze, watching intently as the largest stone began to move, in which he noticed it hadn't fallen completely onto the ground. Actually, it was a good distance AWAY from the ground... He watched as it was lifted with a struggling, growling roar, before suddenly shattering.

Underneath the falling pieces was Emelia, standing and shaking with panting, growling breaths. But it wasn't HER... Her right half had transformed... Mutated into a muscular-like creature that threatened to rip out of the shirt she wore as she held a clawed hand over her head, gripping small rocks and dust. The same arm, the man noticed, which had shattered the stone that had fallen on it. The mutated woman stood in the middle of the rubble for a moment with heavy breaths before shakily looking at her arm. More fear entered her mind, but it was replaced quickly with rage. The only thing she now had on her mind was to escape... And kill. She punched through more of the rock with an enraged yell, climbing and ripping the stones open to get out. The stones and rubble ripped like weak fabric from the force. She only stopped as she heard joyful laughter, turning to see the man hold his arms open.

"Great show!!!" He cheered, grabbing a hammer-like object and slinging it over his shoulder. "I see why that heinous bitch sent you here! You're perfect."

Emelia stared at him, her vision going red with much more anger than she thought possible. She suddenly shot forward with a snarling yell, jumping over the rubble with relative ease despite fumbling over loose rocks. She had tunnel vision as she slammed her mutated shoulder against the wall near the stairs before darting up them. She gave a guttural yell and reared her mutated arm back, claws posed to strike the man down; but she didn't. Each breath was a growl as she noticed she had stopped moving entirely, close enough to see the sly smirk on his face, his eyes hidden behind dark, rounded shades. It wasn't until she looked at her arm that she realized she was stopped by metal pieces, only to give a surprised yell as she was flung and pinned against the wall with the metal itself. She struggled for a moment, only stopping as he stepped in front of her with a chuckle.

"You'll fit right in." He smiled, taking a drag on the cigar he held. Emelia curled her lip in a snarl.

"Who the hell are you?!" She snarled with a low, warped voice, baring her teeth as her muscles shook from rage and exertion. The man chuckled.

"Well, you DID survive, so I guess you get to know." He smiled.

With a step back, the metal was flung away, and Emelia was dropped to her knees. She coughed once more as more dust was kicked up. With a shudder and a few cracks of muscle and bone, she watched with near horror as whatever mutation retreated back under her skin as near black tendrils.

"What the fuck..." she muttered, carefully reaching back and rubbing her neck having felt something along her spine. She then looked up to see the man had taken off the glasses in near astonishment. There was a moment of silence before the man broke into a sinister grin.

"That crazy bitch." He said, holding out his hand for her. She eyed it for a moment before hesitantly holding onto it, wobbling and leaning against the wall as he helped her up. "Karl Heisenberg." He grinned. "You?"

"... why am I trusting you?" Emelia mumbled, taking a step back. "You just attempted to KILL me."

"Kill, schmill, it was a test!"

"Trying to crush me was a TEST?!"

"I had to see what Miranda meant in sending you here, but turns out you're a bit more than she knew." He returned his glasses to his face, adjusting the hammer-like object on his shoulder. "She would have kept you had she known about that. Now, your name."

She stared at him for a moment before giving an annoyed huff her gaze falling back to her arm.

"Walsh. Emelia Walsh."

[imastrangeone98]

Star-Crossed - Chapter 3: Lapse of Judgement

(A/N: I know I haven't been updating this story for a while, I've been caught up with some real life stuff and some writers block. But I'm working through it slowly, so bear with me 😅)

Four months have now passed.

He could not believe his eyes. In front of him now, growing small yet strong, were wheat stalks.

He had...

"HA! You lose, sucker!" Bai had hollered, dancing around him with her arms waved high in the air. "I win! I win! I actually won!"

He rolled his eyes. "How childish."

"Says the loooooooser!" she cackled, smacking the inside of her thigh. "Ah, that's beauty right there! Score one for the underdog!"

"Yes, yes. Huzzah and all that." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Very well. As promised, I will no longer attempt to steal your disgusting produce-"

"Hey, those were top quality seeds, I paid over 25 gold coins for those-!"

"They had the slight taste of mold."

"...Damn, that Baizhu, I'll kick his ass the next time I see him-!"

"And I will no longer encroach on your laughably small territory-"

"What do you mean small?! This is my family's land-"

"And I will not eat you."

She huffed, chest puffed up in pride. "Of course you won't eat me! I'm too awesome and steeped in victory for you to appreciate the taste."

"...Don't make me regret keeping my word."

Bai guffawed and slapped him on the back. "Aw, don't be like that. How 'bout this, I'll treat you to a meal tonight! It's a special day; I got some beef bones and peppercorn and star anise, we can boil those for broth and make some kinda hot pot. I've got some veggies left over, it should do for a nice dinner. What do you say?"

He snorted, but didn't roll his eyes. "A meal like that needs meat."

"Well, too fucking bad. You're gonna eat like a peasant tonight!"

"I am literally a king-"

She decided that now was the time to ignore him, and turned on heel to enter her small shack. "Hurry up, king man! Help me with the fire!"

He grumbled, and stomped over to her with a pout. "Did you even hear me, woman?"

[...]

What an inferior meal, he thought mildly to himself, watching the way Bai's stomach moved up and down as she snored. He couldn't help but admire her simple-minded lifestyle: rise to the dawn of the sun, shop in the local street markets for the bare necessities, work until the sunset, then prepare a meal much like the one today: a simple bone broth with vegetables and small scraps of meat that he insisted be used.

It was drastically different than the one he led: sleeping 'til the afternoon, devouring extravagant meals, then slaughtering those inferior to him in battles of strength. A never-ending war against those who dare threaten his people and his territory, never a moment without wondering who might turn on him.

With a yawn, he stretched out his arms and rose to his feet, placing a few more pieces of wood on the fire before glancing down at her once more. She continued to snore like a roaring waterfall, a small trail of drool tracing the corner of her mouth, scratching her belly before turning on her side.

He let out a small, amused huff before silently leaving the hut, the door softly clicking shut behind him.

[...]

"MY KING! THERE YOU ARE!"

Jae's ears rang with the sudden disruption, and he scratched his cheek as his advisor screeched to a halt in front of him, chest heaving with exhaustion.

"What is it?"

"My king, there are gods wandering near our borders!"

His feet faltered.

...Gods? Here? In the land of demons?

The last time the gods had entered here...

He grit his teeth. No, he couldn't allow them even a millimeter of land.

"It seems I've been slacking off lately," he grumbled under his breath, summoning 여의 to his hand. "Not to worry. It's simply a brief lapse of judgement."

With a wave of his hand, his advisor jumped off to summon the army. Jae heaved a great sigh before slinging 여의 over his shoulders and overseeing his territory on his terrace. In the distance, there was a faint plume of smoke that irritated him.

He cracked his neck and flexed his shoulders. It was time to get back to work.

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A/N: oh my goddd this took forever to write for some reason :(