#so he finds the idea of her as knight-commander deeply disturbing

[offsidekineticist]

💎💎💎for agria if you're still taking these and it strikes your fancy lol!

I am still taking them! Sorry it took so long, took some time to decide who would be most interesting to answer this one. So here's Giliys's thoughts on Agria (whom he has nicknamed 'Threads' because Giliys can't just call people by their names like a normal person, I'm so sorry).

"Threads? Well. I think I'd have liked her better if we met before the fifth crusade. I know she's got rich family, but she doesn't really count as nobility. I mean, she coulda stayed in Brevoy and tried to blend in with with the fancy Lebedas, sucked up to them, tried to marry up, but she didn't. She went and said she was part of a people with no home scattered all over Avistan, and when she realized their culture had been stolen from them, she went and said she'd steal it back. That takes guts.

"But then Areelu fucking Vorlesh got ahold of her, and - " Giliys stops himself, face taut with rage. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Look. I know most people think I don't have a conscience cuz it's calibrated different than most. But I do know this: the worst, most unforgivale things you can do to someone are the things that hurt the soul. And I know, I know, I done plenty of that in my time, but I also know it's fucked up. What Areelu Vorlesh did was un-fucking-forgivable. And Threads did her best to pick up the pieces and stitch herself back together, but...she decided not to fix what she did to her, didn't she? I don't know if she didn't think it was possible or if she actually thought she was better off for it, but either way - I mean - that's not something you choose if your soul is whole.

"So yeah. It's funny, I don't have a problem with her having magic powers from the Abyss. But the power she has as knight-commander...yeah, that's the kind of thing that twists you up inside, makes you into something else. Something that can't be fixed. And I hope Galfrey rots for pushing her into that when she was already torn up inside by Vorlesh."

[damnzawa]

Hi there! I just found your account and I love you writing! I was wondering if you could do a bakugou x reader fantasy au? Where prince bakugou goes to a small village in his kingdom for a pit stop while on a quest but meets the reader who's a poor butcher's daughter that doesn't know who he is and doesn't really care either but really wants to go on a quest and begs him to let her travel with him in exchange for being a chef. Thank you so much!!💞💕💗 ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾┌(★ｏ☆)┘

ANNOYING — B. KATSUKI

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry if this took a long time to be published! I went off tumblr for a while due to personal issues but now I'm back! Hope you like this!

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED (for now)

WARNINGS: Language LMAO but its Bakugo so what do we expect. Also this is not beta read!

WORD COUNT: 1955

Not everyday you have the privilage to meet the prince. The heir to the kingdom's throne. The second most respected man in the whole entire kingdom.

And not everyday you get to mistake him as a thief either.

Not that you care about his title, really. You believe that all men are created equal, regardless of their social standings, heirarchy and whatnot. Thus, you didn't really care about the prince and the royal family that much to ever know about them. Not even their faces, nor names.

So, it wasn't a surprise that it will cause you your possible demise.

You see, the day started nice. You went out to do some deliveries, met some nice people on the road who bought half of the meat your father had cut, and to top it all off the farmer was kind enough to give you extra rootcrops as a sign of gratitude to you and your father. It was a great day all in all. Until, the knights came.

Along with the explosive prince.

Murmurs began to start as you headed back to your father's stall in the market after a long day of delivery work. Even though you didn't mean to eavesdrop — it was kind of hard not to, considering how their volumes were — you caught the words: arrogant, self-centered, short-tempered. And later you found out those words described the prince.

"He must be a nincompoop then. To get such a reputation from the people in town, he must have done some... questionable things." You said to yourself. Too engrosed in your thoughts, you bumped into a red-headed knight. You bowed immediately while apologizing then excused yourself, you didn't really want to interact with knights today. All you wanted to do was cook a hearty meal for your stubborn father, read a book by the fireplace after a bath, and relax.

But all those plans seem to be quickly washed away when you saw an ash blond quietly steal from your father. You were gonna let it slide, thinking that maybe it was for a good cause.

That is until you realized, the man stole a prime cut.

As if a switch was flicked, you quickly ran towards the direction the man headed to. Spotting him from afar, you ran as fast as you can and knocked the man into the ground, shocking the people around you.

"Give it back." You sternly commanded the man. "Give back the meat you stole from my father."

The man scoffed at your 'accusations' and tried to wiggle his way free but your entire weight placed on top of his back made it hard to do so. "Let me fucking go. I have no idea what the actual fuck you are accusing me of."

"Oh shut it. I saw you with my own two eyes and I am very much sure that their vision is not impaired yet." His futile attempts at escaping now stopped as he tilted his head to see the scoundrel who had the audacity to knock him down and embarrass him infront of townspeople.

Of course it had to be a girl.

"Are you one of my admirers to go such lengths as accusing me of stealing from a commoner?" That comment made your eye twitch because first, you are certainly not an admirer of this prick. Two, you don't even know the guy! Three, who would admire this piece of work? And lastly, your father might be a 'commoner' but he's the best 'commoner' you could ever find! There wouldn't be a slab of ribs or a fine piece of steak on your plates if it weren't for him! And the way this asshole said 'commoner' with such distaste too! What a prick! Who the hell does he think he is?

"My prince!" The same red-headed knight you bumped into earlier shouted from afar. Your eyes widened for a second before turning back to the asshole beneath you who now has a smug grin on his face.

"Miss! Are you alright?" The knight asked while helping you get up. "Did the prince cause you any disturbances? Any problems?" It was your turn to plaster on a smug grin on your face. You saw his own falter which you made you more smug than before.

"Why yes actually, the prince caused me a slight inconvenience." The red-head sighed, taking a quick glance at the prince beside him — who couldn't stand due to pain. "The prince stole a priceless little thing from my father's stall earlier and I'd like for him to return it or better yet, pay for it." The prince was about to retort but the red-head beat him to it.

"I deeply apologize for the prince's action, miss. If it would make you happy and satisfied, I will pay for the items he stole. I will also ask for forgiveness on his behalf." Angry noises came from the prince's (beast) mouth as the red-headed knight did exactly what he told making you raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you doing it for him? Can't he do it himself?" It was amazing to see a knight easily convinced to do something a mere 'commoner' like you demanded, but you concluded that this red-headed fellow wasn't an ordinary knight. He seemed like the type that's fed up with the prince's antics, thus his demeanor towards people is filled with empathy and the usual knightly courage. But your words made him halt, and look at you as if you were from some otherworldly land.

You caught the knight mutter about something manly before the prince interrupted. "Hah?! I'm not gonna apologize to someone lower than me! You extra!" The knight sweat-dropped at the prince's words while you looked at him blankly. Wow, the rumors are true, he is an asshole.

"Well, Your Highness, this extra happened to be the one who cared for the rib who used to be a part of the cow that you stole just now. So, apologize and pay up. I don't care if you're the prince or not. Thievery is a crime, and you just committed it." The crowd begin to whisper, making the prince's eye twitch.

"Fine, you annoying extra! Give her whatever the fuck she wants!" And with that the prince stormed off. Leaving you and the red-haired knight behind. The crowd began to disperse, seeing as the scene just concluded and that the man of the hour was gone.

The knight turned to you once again and bowed. "I'm deeply sorry for my prince's actions. As he caused such an inconvenience and refuses to be accountable for his actions, I shall ensure to provide whatever compensation you need or want — within reason of course." Before you can respond, he introduces himself with a grin. "Ah! How silly of me! Chivalric knight, Kirishima Eijirou at your service."

"I appreciate your efforts, Sir Kirishima, but I just need the payment for the stolen goods." You replied with a smile, but soon your smile faltered. You had wanted to be a chef for so long and travel unknown lands to discover cuisine and cooking techniques you've never heard of before. Perhaps... is this the right time to do it?

You bit your lip as you contemplated. Should you grab this opportunity and run with it?

Seeing your hesitancy, Kirishima waited for your answer. "Actually... I have a request... I was wondering if it's possible?"

"I'm all ears, Miss."

...

"What is this extra doing here?!" Prince Bakugo exclaimed as he saw your annoying little face within his traveling party. Kirishima sighed as he explained the situation. You would join his party as a chef until you reach the capital where you will be training to be a chef under the great Lunch Rush. Bakugo was about to object when Kirishima shot him a look.

"Fine. But I'm not eating garbage cooked by a commoner!" You rolled your eyes at his demeanor. Are all royals like this?

As if reading your mind, Kirishima responds. "Don't worry. King Masaru and Queen Mitsuki are quite modest and kind."

"Then what happened to him?" You pointed to Bakugo.

"I heard that, you extra!" Fowl language followed that statement making the traveling party sigh. Oh boy, this is gonna be a painful journey.

After that, you said your goodbyes to your father, who was very emotional about the turn of events. "Be good and be brave, my sweet child. And ask for forgiveness from His Highness." Your brows were scrunched in confusion.

"Why must I do that? He was clearly in the wrong!"

"Ah... that slab of meat was a present from me to him. He once helped me round up the cows when his traveling party went by our house yesterday. The slab of priceless meat was a token of appreciation for his kind gesture. So, do apologize for your actions, ok?" The information you just heard astounded you, making you speechless. Guilt pooled in your stomach as you promised your father that you will apologize to the prince. And with a final promise of coming home as a renowned chef, you parted ways.

The journey started rough. The prince refused to eat anything you made at all. His stubbornness knows no bounds and his overall demeanor towards you was not pleasant, which you understood as the scene you caused was a total misunderstanding on your part. The only upside was the traveling party greatly enjoyed your meals, and some even gave you recipes from different places and suggestions of destinations that you'll surely enjoy to explore! Overall, it went smoothly.

That is, until the prince became sick.

The doctors in your traveling party asked you to concoct different meals suited to His Highness, You had to stop at a village in order to ensure Prince Bakugo's speedy recovery. And one day, you were assigned to deliver his meals to him personally.

"Prince Bakugo?" You knocked on the door, and as expected, not a response came from the prince. You sighed and slowly opened the door, cautiously stepping in so you won't wake Bakugo up or spill the contents of the bowl you held.

"Go away, you extra." He grumbled, but his rough voice was replaced with a weak ome due to his illness.

"Look, I know you won't eat my meals but you need to eat. You can't recover from this if your body doesn't have the nutrients it needs to fight back this illness." You huffed. "And... besides, consider this as my way of making up to you."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"My father told me about it. I'm sorry for mistaking you for a thief. I tried to apologize to you on several occasions but you angrily push me away every time I do. So, I figured this might be the right timing since you know... you aren't your usual aggressive self." You scratched your nape in embarrassment. "Besides, if there's something I learned while traveling with you is that you're a big softie inside. You might act rough and is shard on the edges, you're actually kind-hearted and caring. Uh... anyways. Please make sure to eat your meal, Prince Bakugo."

Before you can exit the room, you heard him say, "Annoying extra." But the usual hostility behind those words wasn't there. You might just be assuming it or imagining it, but those words almost sounded... fond.

With a shake of your head, you left the room.

Later that day, you found the bowl to be empty and outside of his room. Along with it was a note that read, "Don't fucking tell me what to do, you annoying extra."

[fanmoose12]

Erwin was his King, and Levi was his knight. He was his most trusted soldier and his most loyal subject. Levi took an oath, swearing his life and soul in servitude to his King.

His heart, unfortunately, belonged only to a Queen.

 “Are you serious?” Levi hisses, staring at Erwin and not believing his ears. “Have you really chosen her? Out of a dozen other candidates?”

“My decision is final,” Erwin calmly replies. “Lady Hange of House Zoe will become my wife and our Queen.”

“You’ve gone mad,” Levi sighs, knowing it is futile to try and change Erwin’s mind. “That woman could never become a Queen. She doesn’t seem to know what etiquette is and she has no manners whatsoever! She wore man’s clothes to a ball, for god’s sake!”

“My decision is final,” Erwin repeats in a more commanding voice, getting tired of Levi’s theatrics. “Lady Hange is kind and sympathetic, and she is insanely smart. She will make a great Queen.”

“Are we talking about the same woman? Lady Hange I’ve seen is a complete lunatic with more than a few screws loose.”

“Oi!” suddenly a voice appears from another room. Levi freezes in his place, immediately recognizing that deep contralto. “It’s not nice to talk like that about future Queen.”

Erwin chuckles warmly in his seat, and Levi slowly turns around.

Just as he expected, Lady Hange walks into the room, her loyal knight trudging after her, as always.

Levi already opens his mouth to apologize, even though he feels no inclination towards that woman, he spoke about her with utmost disrespect. Even if she wasn’t a future Queen, she still remains a part of the nobility, and Levi, a street rat with no family name, just offended her.

However, Lady Hange doesn’t seem to be mad. Where any other noble woman would immediately begin screaming, demanding Erwin to behead him right here and right now, Lady Hange just smiles, her eyes sparkling with amusement behind the lenses of her glasses.

“I take no offence at your words,” Hange reassures him. “Actually no one has ever talked about me like that. Especially to my face. It feels so refreshing, right, Moblit?” she turns to her knight, and the man just nods, obviously accustomed to his Lady’s eccentric behavior.

“I should probably introduce myself once more,” Hange curtsies in front of him, and Levi curses under his breath upon seeing how clumsily she does it. “Since I didn’t seem to make much of an impression on you the first time,” she winks at him, smirking, and Levi’s cheeks start to redden.

He remembers their first meeting all too well.

Lady Hange just returned from a hunt with other nobles. She tried to introduce herself to Levi, outstretching her hand to him. And Levi, looking at her hand, which had dirt on it, refused to touch her. He ignored her completely, turning around and walking away from her.

Well, he couldn’t have known that Erwin would decide to make her his Queen, could he?

But now Levi has to repent for his mistake.

So he stands on one knee, taking Hange’s hand in his.

“I deeply apologize for my foul mouth and my improper behavior,” Levi closes his eyes, glad that due to his kneeling position neither Hange, nor Erwin can see his face. They can’t see how annoyed he truly looks and how fiercely he glares at Lady Hange beneath his fringe. “I hope milady would find it in her heart to forgive me.”

Levi hopes she will actually buy his lie.

Hange doesn’t. Instead, she starts laughing, loudly and definitely unladylike.

Levi snaps his gaze to look at her.

“You are a terrible liar, Sir Levi,” she tells, when she finishes laughing. “But as I said, you do not need to apologize. I harbor no ill feelings towards you.”

“I told you she is a very kind woman,” Erwin smirks, as he comes to stand beside Hange.

Levi swiftly lets go of Hange’s hand and gets to his feet. His face still burns in embarrassment.

“And I called you here not just to announce my engagement,” Erwin’s face becomes serious, all signs of mirth and amusement gone, as he is once again wearing a mask of a King. “I need you to look after Lady Hange, at least until our wedding and her coronation. Some people from the court may not welcome my decision, and they may try to harm Lady Hange. You cannot let that happen, Levi.”

“Your Majesty!” Hange’s knight, Sir Moblit, calls. “I am more than capable of looking after my Lady!” he then turns his gaze to Levi, furrowing his eyebrows and staring at him with distrust.

“I’m sure you are,” Erwin smiles at the man. “But Sir Levi is one of my most trusted man, and I would feel much calmer if he looked over Lady Hange,” Erwin turns to look at Levi, staring at him intently. “I entrust you with my future wife’s life and safety, Levi. Do not let me down.”

“Of course,” Levi nods readily. Whatever he feels for Hange and how much the woman irritates him, it does not really matter. Erwin, his King, gave Levi an order. And Levi will do anything and more to accomplish this task. “As long as Lady Hange is beside me, no harm will ever come her way.”

Before Levi walks out of the room, dutifully following after Hange, Erwin gives him another look. And Levi understands its meaning without explanation. There is more to Erwin’s order than he said out loud. There is something else that troubles him. Erwin doesn’t trust his fiancé as much as he has said, so now it is Levi’s task to make sure that Lady Hange is just as kind and trustworthy as she appears.

 ***

“You have to eat, Lady Hange,” Moblit practically pleads, hovering over her.

Hange doesn’t even look at him, waving her hand in his general direction. “Mm, of course, I’ll do just that as soon as I finish this book.”

Levi quietly tsks. He has spent an entire week, following Hange. And that exact same scene repeats every single day.

He had enough of it.

So he grabs a chair and sits next to Hange. “He’s right, you know. You do need to eat. And a bath.”

That’s finally gets Hange’s attention. She turns around, grinning. “Are you saying I smell?”

“I’m saying you reek, Your Majesty.”

Hange doesn’t seem bothered by his rude words. On the contrary, the grin on her face widens. “I’ve told you, you don’t need to call me by my title. I mean, you call Erwin by his name, right?”

Levi’s eyes widen. Had he slipped in front of her? He does call Erwin by his name, but never in front of other people.

Hange’s grin turns into a soft smile, as she sees his troubled expression. “You didn’t do it in my presence,” she assures him. “I just guessed it, don’t worry.”

She’s insanely smart, Erwin’s voice rings inside his head. Of course, how he could forget it.

Still, her knowing gaze disturbs him, so Levi decides to change the topic. “Your knight calls you Lady Hange.”

“She’s a member of a noble family!” Moblit exclaims, scandalized. “I can’t just call her by her name!”

Levi shrugs. “I can.”

Hange nods approvingly, and then returns to her book. She thinks their conversation is over. Levi has a different opinion.

“You still need to take a bath.”

“Sure, as soon as I finish this.”

She doesn’t lift her eyes from that book. Levi starts to get angry.

“Hange, bath. Now.” he says lowly, getting to his feet and looming over her. “This is your last warning.”

“Of course,” she replies. Not even a glance in his direction.

Well, he did warn her, right?

“Levi!” Hange shrieks, as he lifts her from the chair and tosses over his shoulder, as though she’s a sack of potatoes, and not a future Queen. “Let me down! Immediately!”

“I’ll let you down, don’t worry. When we’ll get to your chambers.”

“Levi! This is preposterous! You can’t do that to me!”

“And what are you going to do?” Levi lazily inquires, as he starts walking out of the library. “Behead me? Hang? Dismember?”

Hange huffs, crossing hands on her chest. Levi, that fucker, knows that she won’t do any of those things. The rascal got too comfortable around her. Hange fumes, thinking of a way to get out of this ridiculous situation. She really needs to finish that book.

She has seen Levi train, he is strong, so there is no way she can fight him alone. Her eyes land on Moblit, who is walking behind them.

“Moblit!” she outstretches her arms towards him. “My faithful knight! Save me from this vile man!”

Moblit instantly looks away. “I’m s-sorry, Lady Hange,” he stutters, scratching his neck. Hange really, really doesn’t like the nervous look on his face. “But you do need to rest.”

“I can’t believe it!” Hange screams. “You are in cahoots with him! My knight, my most loyal man has betrayed me!”

“For the love of gods, stop shouting,” Levi admonishes with a tired sigh. “No one has betrayed you. We’re doing this for your own goddamn sake.”

“Nifa drew you a bath, milady,” Moblit says with a sweet smile. “And I’ll bring you food.”

“And if you’ll be a good girl and do, as we say,” Levi adds. “I’ll even bring your stupid book.”

“Fine,” Hange agrees. There is nothing she can do about it, after all. She is outnumbered. “But you’ll bring me all the books I ask.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “Whatever it takes to make you clean.”

 ***

As Levi spends more time around Hange, he learns that the most annoying thing about her isn't her over-friendliness, unbelievable messiness or even her apparent disrespect for court's rules. No, it's the fact that she doesn't seem to know what peace is.

She is always running around, rushing from one task to another, taking no breaks and stopping not even for a second.

As he follows after her, getting to know her better, Levi now sees why Erwin has chosen her. Hard-working, diligent and borderline obsessed with her duties, she seems like a more cheerful version of Erwin himself.

She is also smart. It's hard not to notice, especially since Levi spends literal days by her side, sitting with her in the library and watching her devour book after book. She is intelligent and is not afraid to show it. As he listens to Hange trade ideas with the best scholars of their kingdom, Levi starts suspecting that she's smarter than even Erwin.

But there are others sides to her character, the ones that amaze Levi even more.

Hange is kind, Erwin wasn't wrong about it. But he forgot to mention exactly how kind she is.

Hange comes to town frequently, and there she buys fresh bread for beggars and sweets for children. She visits orphanages, bringing toys and books with her. She sits with children in a circle, reading to them, or she helps with their studies, or she runs with them in the fields, as though she is just a simple woman like them, and not the future Queen.

The more Levi watches her, the more apparent it becomes to him just how right Erwin was, when choosing Hange as his Queen.

She is smart and sharp, just like Erwin. But she is also kind, so very kind. And where Erwin cares only about a big picture, she sees all the tiny, but necessary details. Erwin has his goals, important, essential goals. He wants to improve their kingdom, to make it stronger and richer than before. But Hange cares about people, about simple, common people that Erwin so often forgets. But when she'll be sitting on that throne, right next to Erwin, she won't let him forget. She'll remind him what it means to be a King.

But there are other, less regal parts of Hange's personality.

Her sense of humour, for example.

Levi loathes to admit it, but she's the funniest goddamn person he has ever met.

She's sarcastic and cocky, and it’s near impossible to offend her. Whenever Levi slips and insults her, she doesn't reprimand him, doesn't remind him of his place. No, instead she accepts whatever insult he throws her away, and then gives him a much more vicious and cutting reply.

And it's.... It's invigorating. Levi could spend hours just bantering with her.

Hange constantly keeps him on his toes, always surprising Levi with the weirdest shit that comes out of her mouth, and he... He likes it. As annoying as Hange seems, Levi's genuinely enjoying himself when he's with her.

Hange is certainly one of a kind. Levi should have realized it earlier.

After all, Erwin doesn't make mistakes.

  ***

Two weeks later, Levi comes to Erwin’s study to tell him exactly that.

As always, Erwin is working, stacks of papers littering his giant desk.

“Hange is trustworthy,” Levi says, as he takes a seat across from Erwin. “You did not need to worry.”

Erwin raises a brow at Levi’s casual familiarity, but decides not to press it. “That’s not the only thing that made me worry.”

“You really think someone will try to harm her?” Levi asks, slightly taken aback.

“Hange isn’t very popular among other nobles.”

“You know something,” Levi realizes, narrowing his eyes.

“I suspect something,” Erwin corrects. “I don’t have any evidence.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” Erwin agrees, his jaw set. Then he sighs and puts down his quill. “There is going to be a hunt before the wedding. It’s an important tradition,” Erwin emphases last words enough to let Levi know what exactly he thinks about it. “Nobles from the whole kingdom will be participating.”

“And you think someone will try to get rid of Hange there?”

Erwin nods, his face grave. “During the hunt, future husband and wife must chase their separate preys alone. And then whatever they catch, they share during the wedding’s feast. It symbolizes the promise to share everything.”

“That is stupid,” Levi huffs.

“It is,” Erwin agrees. “But it is a tradition, and whether I like it or not, I must follow it.”

“So Hange is going to be hunting alone…”

“Not exactly. As members of noble families, we are allowed to take two guardsmen with us. But even so, I’m afraid someone may use this opportunity. And that’s why I ask you to look after her.”

“Don’t you want me by your side?”

“No,” Erwin answers with a smile. “If anything happens, the others members of the royal guard will protect me.”  

“Why don’t you give them to Hange?”

“I don’t trust them like I trust you.” Erwin replies, his blue eyes staring straight at Levi.

“Alright,” Levi sighs, refusing to let the weight of Erwin’s words drag him down. “I’ll protect her.”

“Thank you, Levi,” a smile returns to Erwin’s face.

Levi wants to get up and leave Erwin to his work. But there is something else he needs to tell him.

“I know you’re busy, and, gods my witness, Hange doesn’t stop working even for a second, but,” he begins, deliberately avoiding Erwin’s eyes. “Maybe, you should spend more time with your fiancé. If you keep ignoring her like that, she’ll get… lonely.”

Levi doesn’t understand how that thought appeared in his mind. But the fact remains that it did, and he has been thinking about it for a while now. Hange doesn’t seem depressed or sad, and especially she doesn’t look lonely, but… Erwin and Hange are going to marry. Levi knows that neither of them are doing it out of love, but Erwin is his friend, Levi cares about him and wants him to be happy. And Hange, as annoying as she is, is kind and compassionate. She deserves to be happy too.

“She won’t get lonely,” Erwin replies, his gaze returning to the papers on his desk. “Especially with you by her side.”

Levi doesn’t quite understand what Erwin means by his words, and Erwin refuses to look at him, already lost in his work. So Levi has no choice, but to quietly leave his study.

And as hard as he tries, Levi can’t seem to get those stupid words out of his mind.

***

In the morning of the hunt, Levi checks on his horse, while discreetly surveying his surroundings. Erwin was right, a lot of nobles gathered for this hunt. Most of them talk and laugh, while waiting for their servants to finish preparing the horses.

Almost none of them pay much attention to Hange.

She doesn’t seem to mind, as she chirpily discusses hunting dogs with Erwin and Lord Mike, one of Erwin’s closest allies. Levi cocks his head, taking a closer look at Mike, but, despite being twice as taller and twice as wider than Levi himself, the man doesn’t seem threatening or suspicious in any way.

Levi looks around the courtyard again. Some lords and ladies glance in Hange’s direction, as they whisper something to one another. He tries to remember their names, but is interrupted by a hand that claps his shoulder.

“Sir Levi,” Moblit slightly bows his head. “Are you ready for the hunt?”

“Almost,” Levi replies, tightening the reins of his hours. “Do you wish to discuss something?”

“Just a small warning,” Moblit chuckles. “Lady Hange is a very smart woman. She is wise too, but… not always.”

Levi quirks his eyebrow, silently asking Moblit to be more precise.

“When she gets excited… she can become a little bit careless,” he admits.

“Oh,” Levi breathes out. It isn’t exactly a surprise, but… “Thank you, Moblit. I’ll keep a more careful eye on her.”

“Shall we go then?”

Levi nods and together they make their way over to Hange.

As soon as they’re next to her, Hange turns around with a wide grin. “Ah, my two faithful knights!” she chuckles, wrapping her hands around Moblit and Levi’s shoulders. “My dear husband,” she winks at Erwin. “I’m now ready to start the hunt.”

“Your desire is my command,” Erwin answers with a charming smile.

Then he turns around, addressing the gathered nobles.

And so the hunt begins.

  ***

At first, everything is going smoothly. Levi, Moblit and Hange are riding slowly through the forest. Hange and Moblit are reminiscing about their days in Zoe’s estate, while Levi silently admires the scenery.

It’s peaceful. It’s quiet. Levi enjoys it.

The peace and quiet is unexpectedly destroyed, when Hange lets out a loud shriek. That’s all the warning Levi gets before Hange sends her horse into a gallop. He freezes for a second too long, just watching her disappear into the distance. It’s only when Moblit starts calling after her, as he speeds his own horse, that Levi finally snaps out of his daze.

“Shit,” Levi grunts, as he hurries after them. “A little bit careless my ass! When I get to that fucking idiot, I’ll kill her with my own hands.”

Levi strokes the horse’s nape, whispering soothing words into her ear and urging her to go faster. Where did four-eyes learn how to ride so fast? He can’t even see her. Worry starts to fill his mind, as Levi desperately tries to keep up with her. He promised Erwin, he can’t let him down.

He can’t lose Hange.

Levi strains his ears, trying to hear something else, except the beating of his heart and the sound of his horse’s hooves hitting the ground. He can’t hear anything, but then—then that silence is ripped apart by a panicked scream.

Levi recognizes Moblit’s voice and, for a second, his heart stops beating. The world seems to stop altogether, as he turns the corner and sees this terrifying scene.

Moblit is kneeling over someone’s body. No, not someone’s, it’s Hange, Hange’s body is lying prone on the ground.  

In a daze, Levi gets off his horse and runs to them. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing, doesn’t really register his movements, until he’s kneeling next to Moblit, looking down at Hange’s face.

There is blood, oh gods, so much blood.

“What happened?” Levi asks in a raspy, desperate whisper.

“I d-don’t know,” Moblit isn’t feeling any better than him, his voice shaking and his hands trembling, as he tries to bring Hange back to consciousness. “I f-followed after Lady Hange, but I still was too far away. I’m not sure what really happened, but her horse got spooked by something and it threw her off. Lady Hange fell and the horse kicked her or, maybe, she hit her head against the rock, I d-didn’t get a good look.”

Moblit sounds like he’s ready to cry, so Levi lifts his hand and squeezes his shoulder. “I know that you’re scared and I know that you worry for her,” he locks his eyes with Moblit’s, making him listen. “But I need you. Hange needs you. Can you find Erwin? And get some help for her?”

“O-of course!” Moblit hurries to his feet. “I-I’ll try to be as swift as possible. Please, take care of her,” he says, before he gets on his horse and rides away.

Levi emits a deep sigh. Moblit will get Erwin, and Erwin will help Hange. Everything will be fine. All he needs to do is to sit tight and wait for the help to arrive.

He carefully lifts Hange and puts her head on his knees. He tries not to think about the blood on her face, or the unusual paleness and stillness of her features.

It is just a head wound, Levi reminds himself. He received a dozen like this, when he was training to become a knight. But somehow, Hange’s wounds seem worse, far more severe than any injuries Levi himself had ever received.

Does he feel so, because she’s a future Queen? Erwin’s fiancé? Or because she’s simply Hange, a woman Levi spent his past two weeks with? A cheerful and kind woman, whose smile is so bright, it lights up the whole room? Whose laughter always makes Levi feel just the tiniest bit better? Who doesn’t care if he’s a scumbag from the streets and considers him an equal despite their different upbringings?

Who is Hange for him? Levi can’t quite answer this question yet, but he knows one thing. He won’t let anyone harm her again. And if he finds a person, who did it, who spilled so much of her blood… he will kill them without hesitation.

“You know it’s very rude to stare at maidens with such a scary expression?”

Hange’s hoarse voice brings Levi out of his thoughts. He stares at her, dumbfounded. He didn’t even notice that she came back to her senses.

Levi looks at her stupid grinning face, and relief nearly overwhelms him. He brings Hange closer, until their foreheads are touching.

“You scared me so fucking much, you idiot,” he tries to sound gruff, annoyed and angry. But his words come out in a soft whisper.

“This?” Hange touches her bloody face with a finger and then shows it to Levi. “It’s nothing! I had so much worse when I was a kid.”

Levi moves away, scrunching his nose in disgust. “This explains so much.”

Hange bursts out laughing, and Levi’s so mesmerized by the sight of her smiling face that he almost doesn’t notice Erwin’s arrival.

As soon as he sees him, though, Levi hastily gets to his feet, taking a few steps away from Hange. If anyone would see him, almost embracing the future Queen, people would get wrong ideas.

Levi doesn’t want to encourage that.

Erwin kneels in front of Hange, his brows furrowed in an expression of worry. “What happened?”

“Nothing serious!” Hange assures with a smile. “I just thought I saw a deer and proceeded to chase it. Then my horse heard some loud noise or something and threw me off.”

“A loud noise?” Erwin asks, scratching his chin.

“Your horse isn’t that easily spooked,” Moblit adds, his eyes nervous, as he surveys his Lady’s injuries.

“It isn’t time to think about it,” Levi interrupts, glaring at Erwin. “We need to get her to healer.”

“You’re right,” Erwin stands up, helping Hange get to her feet. He then lifts one of her hands and throws it over Levi’s shoulder. “Get her to the castle,” Erwin orders.

“And you?”

“I need to look around,” Erwin replies seriously. “Take care of her, Levi.”

“Will do, Your Majesty,” Levi gives him a bow.

He hovers over Hange, as he gets her to his horse and then sits behind her, spurting the animal into action.

“Erwin thinks someone tried to hurt me?” Hange asks, as they ride through the forest.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” Hange shakes her head. “But he didn’t need to. I’m not an absentminded weirdo everything thinks I am. I notice things too.”

“Erwin doesn’t think you about you this way,” Levi replies. “And neither do I.”

And before Hange can say something, Levi speeds up his horse. “Let’s hurry up. We need to show that wound to the healer.”

  ***

Back at the palace, the healer assures Levi and Moblit, who arrived just after them, that Hange’s wound isn’t serious. One day at the infirmary, and she will be back on her feet.

Still, neither Moblit, nor Levi leave her side, sitting next to Hange’s bed.

Moblit reads to her and entertains her with conversation. Levi just sits there, not talking and not taking his eyes off Hange even for a second.

He should go, he knows that. Erwin asked him only to bring her back, he said nothing about keeping her company, but whenever Levi tries to leave, he remembers Hange’s bloodied face and feels almost a physical need to stay.

He can’t let any harm come her way. And he won’t.

In the evening, Erwin comes to visit her. He looks tired, but as soon as he sees Hange, he puts on a warm smile.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks her, as he takes her hand in his.

“Of course!” Hange beams. “I don’t really think I need to spend the night in infirmary, but the healer insisted,” she huffs a bit petulantly.

Erwin brings her palm to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there. “I’m sure the healer just wants to make sure you’re alright. Our wedding approaches and I want you to be healthy during the ceremony.”

“It will be embarrassing, if you faint while reciting vows,” Levi stands up and comes to stand next to Hange.

He doesn’t know why, but he feels uneasy, when all of Hange’s attention is focused on Erwin. They are to be married soon, Levi knows that. And he really wants them to be happy. But whenever Erwin touches her so gently, Levi has a weird feeling inside. It clutches his heart and twists his insides.

The feeling is gone the moment Hange’s eyes are set on him.

“Levi?” Erwin’s voice brings him back to reality. “Can we talk outside?”

Levi nods and follows Erwin into the corridor.

“So?” Levi crosses hands on his chest, staring up at Erwin. “You found something?”

“No,” Erwin shakes his head. “If there was foul play involved in Hange getting injured, I couldn’t find any evidence of it.”

“Maybe, it was an accident?”

“Maybe,” Erwin agrees, although his hard gaze and pressed lips tell a different story. “But in the meanwhile, keep watching over her. At least, until the wedding.”

“As you wish,” Levi promises, before going back to Hange.

  ***

The royal wedding is beautiful. Levi has been living in the palace for almost seven years now, but he has never seen a celebration more grand that this.

Hundreds of nobles come to the palace, all of them wearing the brightest and biggest jewelry and the most extravagant, colorful clothes they have.

The church, where the wedding is held, is the most majestic building Levi has ever seen. It’s big and spacious, the ceilings are high and the windows are wide. The warm sunlight trickles inside, making everything glisten.

Erwin himself is dressed in a majestic blue doublet, adorned with small white wings, which symbolize their kingdom. He wears a crown on his head, and there is a pleased smile on his face, as he stands in front of an altar, waiting for his almost-wife and Queen.

It’s a beautiful day, and it will be a beautiful wedding.

But when those giant doors open, when Hange finally walks in, Levi comes to a realization that none of it – nothing in the world - compares to her beauty.

And it’s weird, because Levi has never thought of her like that, Hange is a million different things – she is weird, annoying, loud, kind, smart, funny or endearing, but she’s never beautiful, not like this.

Watching her walk down the aisle feels almost surreal. That woman in a long white gown, who walks with her eyes slightly cast down, looks nothing like Hange. And even though, deep down, Levi prefers the Hange he knows – the one, who wears man’s clothes to a ball and whose hair always sticks in different directions, he can’t tear his eyes away from her.

And he feels horrible just thinking about it, doesn’t understand, where those feelings even came from, but as he watches Erwin lean in to press a kiss on Hange’s lips, the priest announcing them husband and wife, Levi desperately wants to be in Erwin’s place.

***

The feast that begins just after the wedding is nothing short of horrible.

The dining hall, where it’s being held, is too warm and stuffy, and the guests, who get progressively drunker with every goddamn minute, are loud and messy.

Levi hates it. He wants to leave. He wants to close himself in his chambers, or, maybe, go to the training grounds and let out all of his frustration in a slightly more productive manner.

But he can’t.

Because Erwin has left to talk with ambassadors – or so he claims – Levi doesn’t quite understand how one can leave the celebration of their own wedding earlier, and Moblit is getting drunk with other knights, so there is no one, but Levi, who can look after their newly coroneted Queen.

Who is currently getting drunk herself, seemingly undisturbed by the absence of her husband. As he hears her utter another stupid, and surprisingly vulgar, joke to Lord Mike, who sits next to her and is roaring with laughter at every word that comes out of her mouth, Levi decides it’s time for some intervention.

So he stands behind Hange, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt (thank gods, she changed into her usual clothes earlier, all Levi’s strange feelings are gone along with that dress). “Hange, I think it’s time for you to leave,” Levi resists the urge to gag, as he sees that the front of her shirt is stained with something dark and sticky.

“But Leeevi,” Hange lifts her head and stares at him upside down. Her stupid grin makes something flatter inside Levi. Maybe, he shouldn’t have eaten that fish. “I’m having so much fun!”

Levi glares at the man Hange is having so much fun with. Lord Mike seems as inebriated as their new Queen.

“C’mon, Hange,” Levi lightly pulls on her collar. “Get up and let’s go.”

“Leeeevi,” Hange whines, looking at Levi with puffed out cheeks. It’s an absolutely ridiculous expression, and Levi definitely doesn’t find it even a tiniest bit adorable.

“Don’t make me call Erwin,” he says, turning away. Her stupid pouting face wasn’t working on him.

“You’re no fun at all,” she huffs, but, thankfully, gets to her feet.

She only slightly sways, as she stands up. Levi sighs and takes her by the hand.

It’s good that everyone in the dining hall is too drunk to see that their new Queen is leaving her wedding feast, hand-in-hand with a knight.

"Levi..." Hange calls, as they walk through the palace's corridors. She sounds different than before, her loud mirth is gone, and when Levi stops and turns around to look at her, he sees that her cheeks are slightly red, as she stares at him.

Levi can't quite guess if that's the effect of alcohol or a trick of light.

"What?" he asks, feigning annoyance. In truth, Hange's weird expression makes his heart beat faster. "Don't tell me you're going to throw up."

"No!" Hange shakes her head with a smile. "I just wanted to thank you... For looking out for me. I don't deserve such kindness."

"Don't be an idiot," Levi scoffs as he starts walking again. "You deserve that and so much more."

"What?" Hange pulls on his hand, stopping him again. "What did you say?"

Levi looks at her. Is she really going to make him say it?

He takes a deep breath. "I said that you deserve so much more. You're incredible, Hange, I don't think I need to tell you that, and you deserve so much more than this."

What he means by this - his kindness, or marriage to Erwin, or the fact that he left her on the night of their wedding - Levi doesn't know. But he knows that if he had a chance, just a smallest chance, he'd do everything he could to make Hange happy.

"You really think so?" she asks, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You really feel this way about me?"

As she stares at him with those big eyes and that tiny, shy smile Levi thinks that he wants to kiss more than anything else in the world.

That thought surprises him, it comes out of nowhere, but once it’s there, Levi can't get it out of his head. He needs to finish this conversation, and then he needs to go to the training ground and run as many laps as it takes to get rid of ridiculous thoughts such as these.

"Yeah...I do," Levi nods and turns away, hoping that Hange is satisfied with his answer.

Of course she fucking isn't.

"I thought you hated me," Hange says, her voice is so surprised, as though she really thought this way.

"Idiot," Levi rolls his eyes. "If I hated you, I wouldn't have bothered with your stupid ass."

Levi's mind doesn't completely register what happens next. One moment, he was standing in the middle of a hallway, and in the next he is pressed against the wall, as Hange looms over him. Her hands are on his shoulders. She hesitates for a quick moment, her eyes darting from his lips to his eyes. Whatever she sees there, Levi doesn't know, but in the next second she puts her lips on his.

Whatever Levi has been thinking about comes to a full stop.

Hange... Hange is kissing him. Hange, his Queen, Erwin's wife. He is kissing Erwin's wife. Erwin, the man who saved him, who gave him a second chance in life, who took him out of the slumbers of the lower city. His friend, his King to whom Levi sworn his life. He has sworn to follow him to hell and back, to sacrifice his life without hesitation.

And right now... He is kissing his wife. He has to stop, has to push Hange away. He won't betray Erwin. Not like this.

But just for a moment, just for a second, Levi lingers there, savoring her taste, losing himself in the feeling of her body, pressed against his.

He will remember this, he will remember this small moment for the rest of his life.

His hands tremble with the desire to touch her, to embrace and hold her in his arms.

Instead Levi puts them on her shoulders and pushes her away.

Hange's eyes, when she looks at him, are confused.

She looks so lost, and Levi wants nothing more than to comfort her, to tell her how much she really means to him.

But he can't.

So he puts as much disdain and indifference in his eyes as he can.

"You're drunk, Your Majesty," he says, no, he spits it out.

Hange looks as though he slapped her. There is so much pain and hurt in her eyes that Levi almost starts apologizing. I don’t mean it, he wants to say. I love you more than anything, he wants to confess.

But duty was always more important to him. Before he met Hange, duty was everything to him. He can’t change his priorities now.

So Levi hurries to turn away and close his eyes, before he sees tears streaming down her face.

He won't be able to walk away then, he won't be able to let go.

"Go to sleep," he says at last.

Hange doesn't follow him, doesn't call out his name.

This means that his words had worked.

But it doesn't make Levi feel better.

***

He heads straight into the dining hall, finding it blissfully empty. There a couple of drunkards, lying on the benches, clearly passed out. Levi doesn’t pay attention to them. Hopefully, he’ll soon join them.

He gets himself a bottle of wine and chugs it as quickly as he can. It tastes like piss, but he doesn’t care. He needs to forget, needs to get those big brown eyes out of his mind. They stare at him as soon as he closes his eyes. They judge him, as Hange’s voice whispers that he’s a liar and a coward. That he is the most despicable person in this world, if he dared to hurt her so.

But Levi doesn’t listen. He shakes his head and drinks more.

It wasn’t real, he tries to persuade himself. Hange doesn’t really feel this way about him. She was drunk and her husband left her on the night of their wedding. She was lonely and sad, of course, she tried to find comfort in someone else’s arms.

Hange doesn’t love him. He made the right choice.

She will probably forget about it in the morning, and everything will return to normal.

Levi lifts a bottle to his lips, hoping that if he drinks a little more, he’ll be able to ignore his broken heart.

  ***

In the morning, he feels like shit.

When a servant-boy starts banging on his door, shouting to him that King Erwin wants to see him, Levi starts feeling even worse.

But Erwin can’t know about yesterday’s accident, right? No matter how smart he is, there is no way he found out about that. Or, maybe, someone saw them in the hallway? It wasn’t like him or Hange paid much attention to their surroundings.

Shit, Levi thinks as he quickly puts his clothes on. What if Erwin really knows?

However, when Levi enters Erwin’s study, there is a surprisingly happy smile on his face. He chuckles, as he sees Levi’s annoyed and obviously tired face.

“I take it, you had fun last night?” Erwin asks.

Levi decides not to dignify this with a reply. Erwin really doesn’t want to know what kind of fun Levi was having last night. Instead, he takes a seat across from him. His anger considerably lessens, when he notices two cups with steaming tea. He immediately takes one in his hand, enjoying the warm substance as it runs down his throat.

“So,” Erwin puts a palm under his chin, looking at Levi with warm eyes. That damn pleased smile is still on his lips. It creeps Levi out. “The wedding was beautiful, don’t you think?”

“It was alright,” Levi shrugs. Your wife was beautiful, he thinks, as he takes another sip from his tea to avoid looking at Erwin.

“And how was the feast? Did you enjoy it?”

“If you’re so curious,” Levi scowls. “Maybe, you should have stayed for a little bit longer?”

Erwin chuckles. “I should have stayed longer, shouldn’t I?” he muses. “I hope Hange wasn’t too sad without me?”

“I…” Levi looks at him, feeling lost. How in the hell should he answer this?

“Well,” Erwin continues, seemingly not seeing Levi’s confusion. “I hope you were a good company for her.”

Shit, shit, fucking shit!

Levi narrows his eyes, eyeing Erwin carefully. The smile on his face is still easy and warm, and his gaze doesn’t seem suspicious or angry.

Maybe, just a coincidence?

Levi drinks from his cup, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. “Is there a reason you called me today?” he makes his voice sound as calm as it is possible with his wildly beating heart. “Or did you simply want to discuss your wedding?”

“It’s been a long time, since we were able to just sit and chat, don’t you think? But,” Erwin straightens, as his gaze hardens just a fraction. Levi tenses. “You’re right, there is a reason why I called you here. I want to know what happened between you and Hange.”

If Levi was a bit clumsier, if his reflexes were a bit slower or if he didn’t know how to hide his emotions so well, he’d definitely drop the cup he’s holding. Or, maybe, he’d gasp or curse.

Instead he doesn’t even move, only raising an eyebrow, as he looks at Erwin with a calm expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Erwin looks at him incredulously. “You didn’t have a fight? Then why Hange said to me that she doesn’t want you to protect her anymore?”

Levi’s heart clenches painfully. Sure, he expected something like that, but actually hearing about it? It felt like his heart has broken for the second time.

“I… yeah, we had a fight, now I remember,” Levi says, feigning indifference. “But it was bound to happen, right? Hange and I are just incompatible, I guess.”

“Hm,” Erwin scratches his chin thoughtfully. “I thought you were getting along just fine. Even more than just fine.”

Erwin looks at him, open and honest. He knows, Levi realizes. Erwin knows. There are a dozen excuses on Levi’s tongue, but he doesn’t dare to say any of them out loud. Whatever he says, he won’t be able to fool Erwin.

“It’s my fault,” he admits, lowering his head. Levi knows what Kings do with cheating wives. Even if Erwin is nothing like different monarchs, adultery is a serious crime, and Levi can’t let Hange be punished for it. “I fell in love with her, but Hange doesn’t feel the same. She loves only you, Erwin.”

Unexpectedly, Erwin starts laughing. Levi stares at him, lost and confused.

“I’m sorry, sorry,” Erwin raises his hands in placating manner. “You two…” he shakes his hand, still chuckling. “You two are so worth each other. Hange told me the same thing, you know? When we had a similar conversation this morning, she kept telling me not to punish you and that you have no feelings for her…” Erwin sighs. “Just go and talk with her.”

Levi looks at Erwin, eyeing him beneath his fridge. “You… you are not angry?” he asks slowly. “But she is your wife!”

“She is,” Erwin agrees. “And Hange is a wonderful, phenomenal person. But I can’t be the husband she deserves. I can’t give her what she needs. She knew what she was signing up for, knew that it will be more of an alliance than a marriage, but still she agreed to it. And I’ll be forever grateful to her that she did. And if she found someone her heart is aching for, I can’t and won’t stop her. Talk with her,” Erwin softly repeats. “You both deserve to be happy.”

“Erwin…” Levi whispers, not quite knowing what to say.

“Go,” Erwin urges. “You can thank me later, when you sort it all out.”

Levi nods, standing up. Before he walks out of the room, he turns around and bows. “You’re the best king this country could ask for. It’s an honor to serve you…” Levi pauses, lifting the corners of his lips in a smile. “And it’s an even bigger honor to call you a friend.”

His conversation with Erwin made Levi feel that much better. Now as he wonders through the castle’s hallways, looking for Hange, he is filled with hope.

Maybe, there will be a happy ending to their story.  

  ***

He finds Hange in the gardens. She's sitting on a bench near the fountains, Moblit, unsurprisingly, stands by her side. There is a book open on her lap, but it seems to be forgotten, as Hange is looking down on the flower in her hands.

Unnoticed by neither Moblit, nor Hange Levi stops, staring at Hange from afar.

Calling her pretty or fair would be wrong, Hange is neither of those things. Her nose is too long and curved, her forehead is too wide, and she does nothing to hide those imperfections.

However, as Levi keeps looking at her, he can't deny that he's admiring her. She may not be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but she catches his eye nonetheless. She may not be fairest of the fair, but to Levi, she is the most wonderful person in this world.

He takes a breath and then. He takes a step forward.

Moblit is the first one to see him. He instantly tenses, his eyes flaring up with anger. He lays a hand on the hill of his sword, stepping in to hide Hange behind his back.

And, yeah, Levi should have expected something like that. Moblit is fiercely loyal and absurdly over-protective, of course, he’d get angry at Levi for hurting his Lady.

“Lady Hange doesn’t require your protection anymore,” he declares, as he stares Levi down with righteous anger in his eyes.

Levi can’t help, but admit that he is impressed by Moblit. He must have seen Levi fight during his trainings or during the tournaments. And even if he hasn’t, he most surely has heard the tales about Levi’s skills. And he doesn’t like to brag, but he’s not called the mightiest of knights for nothing, yet Moblit… Moblit doesn’t seem to care about it. And he genuinely seems ready to fight with Levi, to defend his Lady’s honor with all of his strength.

Levi is glad that a man like him defends Hange.

“I just want to talk,” he says quietly.

Moblit continues to regard him with cold eyes until Hange steps in. She lays a hand on Moblit’s arm, smiling at him. It’s a weak smile, so different from her usual ones. Levi hates himself for it, hates that he is reason for the sad look on her face.

“I’ll be fine, Moblit, you can take a break for a while.”

For a moment, Moblit seems hesitant. His eyes dart from his Lady to Levi a couple of times, but then he gives up. He takes his hand off the sword and walks away.

“Thank you,” Levi murmurs, as he sits next to her. He doesn’t sit too close, but even so, when he lowers himself down, Hange slightly, but visibly tenses.

“Maybe, it’s for the best if we talk,” Hange muses, not taking her eyes off that flower. It’s a daffodil, Levi realizes. He briefly wonders, where Hange managed to find it in this time of year. The winter is approaching, after all. “I should apologize to you.”

“Hange, w—” but she doesn’t let him finish.

Instead, she continues, as though she didn’t even hear him. “You were right, it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have kissed you—”  

“Hange—”

“I shouldn’t have forced myself onto you, it is obvious that you don’t feel the same—”

“Hange—”

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortabl—”

“Hange!” Levi raises his voice and grabs her shoulder, turning her to face him. Now he has her undivided attention. Fucking finally. “I came here to talk with you. So,” he looks deeply in her eyes, as his hand lowers, until it is holding her palm. Hange tenses, but doesn’t try to shake him off. “Can I talk?”

Hange nods, timidly. She lowers her head, playing with that damned flower. Levi would have preferred for her to look at him, but well. Maybe, it’s for the best. At least, she won’t see him blushing and stuttering like a fool.

“You are right, you did make me uncomfortable,” immediately, Hange tries to free her hand, but Levi intertwines their fingers and doesn’t let go. “But it’s not the kiss that made me feel this way, o-or, maybe it is, no, wait, fuck!” Levi growls, distressed by his inability to translate his feelings into words. He was never good with either. “Shit, let me start over,” he ruffles his hair. “First, I want to… apologize. I know that I hurt you last night, but believe me I didn’t want this. I hope you can forgive m—”

“Levi,” Hange smiles. It’s a soft, but still disturbingly sad smile. It looks weird on her face. “You don’t have to apologize. I am the one at fault here—”

“For gods’ sake!” Levi exclaims. “Can you let me finish?”  

“Oh, okay,” Hange chuckles, and Levi’s heart flutters at that sound. “Go on then.”

“As I was saying,” Levi begins, glaring at Hange. “Your actions made me uncomfortable, but more than that, my own feelings made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want you to stop, Hange. And, of fucking course, I didn’t want to push you away.”

“Then why did you?” and her voice is so quiet, so small and unsure that it breaks Levi’s heart.          

“Because I thought it was wrong. Because I didn’t want to betray Erwin. Because I was afraid of my feelings to you.”

“And what exactly do you feel for me?”

Levi sighs. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“It would make all of this much easier.”

And yeah, maybe, she’s right, Levi thinks. The lack of communication did bring them into this mess.

He sighs again. “I love you, Hange. More than anything.”

“I see,” Hange whispers, lowering her head. “So kissing you was really a mistake… I’m sorry, Levi, but I can’t… we can’t do that. I can’t give you everything. I am a Queen, I have a duty to this country, and… to my husband.”

“I know that. I also have a duty, and I don’t want your everything, Hange,” Levi lifts their joined hands and presses a soft kiss on her knuckles. “I don’t wish to own you, I… just want to love you and… remain by your side.”

Hange shakes her head, swiftly raising her free hand to wipe her face. “I really don’t deserve you.”

Levi smiles. “Stupid,” he says gently. “I told you yesterday, didn’t I? You deserve the world, Hange.”

Hange slowly lifts her palm to lay it on his cheek. Levi leans into her touch, and she smiles. “I love you so much, Levi.”

That smile is so soft and yet so bright. Levi wants nothing more than to press his lips to it. “I want to kiss you,” he blurts out.

Hange raises an eyebrow. “You won’t push me away this time?”

Levi scowls. “You really won’t let me forget it so easily?”

“Of course, not!” Hange exclaims. “You broke my heart, you know?”

“Well, I wasn’t too happy about it either,” Levi grumbles, even though he feels a prick of shame and regret. He won’t let himself harm Hange ever again.

“Lucky for you, I’m ready to forgive you. On one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You have to kiss me,” Hange grins. “Real good. So good it’ll make me swoon.”

“Swoon?” Levi scoffs. “Have you been reading too much shitty novels lately?”

“If you look at it this way…” Hange begins, her grin widening. “I am a Queen and you’re my trusty knight… We are just like the characters from those stories!”

“I’m not exactly your knight. Actually, when I came here, your trusty knight wanted to run me through with a sword!”

Hange shrugs. “It just means that our story is a bit different.”

“Do you think we’ll get a happy ending?”

“That depends. Remember, you have to kiss me really good!”

“You’re insufferable,” Levi grumbles.

But who he is to argue with his Queen? He has no choice, but to kiss her.

“Mm, that was… alright,” Hange declares, when they break apart. The dazed look in her eyes tells Levi a different story, but he decides to humor her.

“Just alright? Does that mean you won’t forgive me?”

Hange looks up, putting on a thoughtful expression. “That was our initial deal, yes, but,” she grins. “I’m a rather merciful Queen. I’ll let you have another try.”

“And if I won’t succeed again?”

“Then I’ll have no choice, but to train you.”

“Truly,” Levi smirks. “Your kindness knows no bounds.”

He lays his hand onto her waist, bringing Hange closer and kissing her once more. In that moment, he feels happier than ever.

Levi’s not the most optimistic person in the world, but when Hange smiles, he’s sure that their story is indeed different. It will have a happy ending.

[oceansmelodysblog]

Until my last breath

A botw Zelink reversed roles AU story

Chapter One - part two

Part one: https://freshbreezesworld.tumblr.com/post/639442716232761344/until-my-last-breath

[Notes at the end of the chapter]

His eldest brother Ecberht and his younger brothers Ragnar and James stood beside him and winked at him.

"Let's mix up the party a bit" said Ragnar, Link's loopy younger brother, as his eyes sparkled pugnaciously. His outfit was all black and more resembled leather battlefield armour.

James dressed in modest colours, blue fatigues and brown accessories. He stood behind Ragnar and muttered that a bigger place should have been chosen for the fest.

 Link sighed. Of course, his big brother Ecberht was dressed in white and gold. 

Ecberht smirked at Ragnar's comment and then addressed the people. "Please, do not stop dancing and singing, but let us celebrate together in honour of the gods, this festival. No rank and no rules, only our common faith will define us on this holy night. So let the feast begin!" he bawled theatrically.

Inwardly, Link sighed. 'I must correct myself, his brothers had a way with words when they had a political use for them.'

Shortly afterwards, the musicians began to play their instruments again, magically managing to harmonise all the different sounds. Link admired their talent to compose contrasting styles into a masterpiece, so he joined the musicians closer, along with his sister.

"Look dear brother, there are sweet crepes! Will you allow me to get one myself?" said Lagertha, making a pout.

"I'll give you my wallet just in case you buy more than one crepe." Link knew she just wanted to look around and would love to join in all the festivities. Therefore, he let her go, still glancing after her as she pranced happily to the stalls. Link, meanwhile, watched as Ecberht pounced on the clan leaders and mesmerised them, as Ragnar with a group of knights cheered on a weird fool in their midst to drink an alcoholic beverage from a barrel, and as Wilhelm talked spiritedly with the Sheikah scholars Purah and Robbie. He grinned, everyone was busy and content. It was time to be able to enjoy himself too.

But just as he was about to turn his attention to the food stalls, someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was none other than the royal advisor Impa of the Sheikah clan.

"Your royal highness, I am delighted to welcome you to the marketplace. Do you like it?"

 "Yes, it's incredible. We have your organisational skills to thank for that alone."

Impa was three years older than him and was like an elder sister to him. She was inspiring and always gave her all to her work at the farm, which was why Link respected her so much.

"Thank you very much, Link. Do you possibly need a recommendation from me on what you could do first?"

"No, I don't. I was going to inquire and marvel at the various interesting smells of the stalls, but I have a better idea now."

Impa knew very well that he was trying to express in a polite way that he wanted to gulp down all the food and grunted a suppressed laugh. "What would be your grandiose idea?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

But Impa did not expect Link to playfully bow to her and hold out his hand. "Allow me to have my first dance with you, honoured royal advisor."

They both snorted as Impa dramatically placed her hand on his. He straightened and escorted her to the dance floor.

The music changed to a Hylian folk dance that Link knew all too well. Impa and Link twirled around laughing to the rhythm of the tinkling instruments. Stepping and stamping, the dancers whirled up the snow lying on the ground. Icy wetness penetrated their clothes, but no one was disturbed, they were too deeply engrossed in their joy.

But suddenly golden hair flashed in the corner of his eye and he turned his head to the cause of his amazement. He wanted to make sure his eyes were not playing tricks on him and looked for the woman who belonged to those hairs.

When his eyes caught her at a stall at the other end of the marketplace, he stopped and stared at her. She had braided her hair in a long tail from the roots to the ends. A white scarf, tied together in a bow, held the braid together. Two thick strands of hair framed her pretty face, like a golden frame of a painting. She wore a white long and flowing dress, which had puffed sleeves and was tied tightly at her nether regions with a charcoal coloured leather arm guard. Her dress had buttons that she buttoned up to her neck. Over her white dress she wore a sapphire blue dress, which was longer than her white one and had narrow straps. It was tight against her chest and waist and parted in two from her midnight blue waist corsage. She, like him, wore a chest protector with the Hylian script for 'Medi Corps' and had a black leather belt fastened around her waist from which hung small cloth and leather pouches filled with medicines. She warmly attended to the injured and hypothermic patients at her stall. A small lanky boy hung from her skirt, he also wore a chest protector with the Medi Corps sign.

Link couldn't get out of his amazement, so Impa tried to see what Link was seeing, looking confused between the dot in the distance and his fixed gaze. She waved in front of his eyes to get him out of his embarrassed stare. "Your royal highness is something wrong?" she finally asked.

As if snapped out of his trance, he looked at her, puzzled, until it finally dawned on him. "Impa. This woman with the golden hair, her name is Zelda, and she is a student of the quirky healer Doctor Borville. Do you know who she is? That's all I've been able to find out about her."

Impa finally understood and mused for a while, but then she was struck by the resemblance to a woman who also had uniquely shimmering golden hair. "She would have to be the daughter of the Battalion Commander Rhoam Dejardin, whose family, served as loyal knights for many generations. However, her mother died when she was only six years old. Zelda Dejardin takes after her late mother. It is rare for Hylians to be born blonde and even rarer with the shimmering golden hair colour."

"By Hylia, how do you know all this?" he marvelled, looking at her piercingly.

"It's my work, Link." She chuckled. Impa paused for a moment, wondering why Link hadn't courted her long ago, but then a flash of inspiration came to her. "Link, go and dance with her." she encouraged him.

"Why would she want to dance with me, she didn't even want to work in the castle as a royal healer when I offered it to her."

"There are also women out there who don't want to spread their legs the moment they see a prince, your stupid highness," Impa said in a sarcastic tone.

Link smirked at her direct honesty and marched straight towards Zelda.

As he approached her he was followed by onlookers and curious glances. But someone else was more important to him at the moment. Zelda. Her name sounded to him like one of the relaxing water features in the ponds in the Sheikah's village.

He saw her expression change from wonder to relief as the light of the torch illuminated his face. She smiled at him, straightened up and pulled her dress into place.

"Madam Healer, please honour me with this one dance." he said in the most respectful way possible, as many people were present and could hear him. He bowed and offered her his hand, which she hesitantly accepted. He felt her frozen fingertips on his warm hand. He wanted to be her, but he had to resist his impulse. He straightened up and walked to the dance floor with her hand on his. Even the musicians had observed what was happening and changed the song this time it was a royal court dance.

But judging by her confident air and smile, she knew this song.

Their eyes fixed on each other, they danced elegantly and in slow steps in a circle, their hands always joined. Like an eagle spreading its wings, he stretched out his free arm and stopped on the spot. He lifted his knee to either side until he put it down. Mirroring Link's movements more daintily, Zelda spun around and placed her hand on his again. He clasped her hand, spun her in a circle and, in rhythm with the music, squatted down on his knees and half-turned to either side. Zelda stopped and made a dainty curtsy. He stood up again and let go of her hand and turned to face her, which she did in turn. The rhythm got faster and they repeated the same movements, only faster. The melody flowed smoothly into another folk dance and Link grabbed Zelda's hand and let it bounce against his chest, twisting himself. He grabbed her waist and lifted her above his head as he spun. He spun her around and around, their hands intertwined. A comforting, feeling of trust spread through Zelda's chest and she grinned from ear to ear. Since the death of her mother, she had not been able to build up any trust and now she realised how much she had missed this feeling. Link was radiant with his gleaming white teeth and tanned complexion. She was sure he could help her.

"Your Royal Highness, I have a request," she whispered as he grabbed her by the waist again and turned her to his chest. She turned her face to his and realised how close he was to her. She could breathe in his scent and the warm breath he expelled from his heated body.

"Whatever you desire," he replied, turning her away from him.

She had to gather her thoughts for a moment as his nearness had unintentionally befuddled her.

"The streets outside the central marketplace are still unsafe. The lives of my master, his seven-year-old errand boy, and mine, have been in danger since your last visit to us. I asked for an audience at the palace a week ago, but no one would listen to us."

He raised their clasped hands above their heads and led them in a circle. Lithely, he moved his hips to the rhythm of the music.

Link's smile faded and gave way to anger in his eyes.

"I will take care of it, tomorrow morning at the latest. But for now, I ask you to forget everything else for the rest of the dance and focus only on my eyes."

Indeed, she felt safer as she focused on his sea-blue eyes. Her limbs relaxed and her head floated as if on a cloud.

On the last beat of the melody, things picked up a little and Link leapt powerfully like a warrior in a circle around her; his fire igniting her fire.

The drumbeats grew faster and faster until they slowly died away and he pulled her close to him on the last sound.

Breathing heavily, Link looked deep into her eyes and smirked naughtily. Zelda found her hands resting on his chest, relaxed against his chest protector, as if it were natural. She stared at his lips as his grin grew wider.

Suddenly aware of where she was and what that just looked like, she jerked away from him and curtsied hastily before turning away.

Loud clapping around her switched through the entire marketplace. All around them, more people had found the courage to dance, but the gawking gathering of people from the various races was remarkable.

All eyes were on Zelda and Link, who danced masterfully to the folk dances in unison with each other.

Zelda looked around in amazement and blushed. She turned her head to the side as Link reached for her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

'His hands are so strong, warm and give you strength,' she thought secretly.

Link stretched his broad chest through and readied himself for an announcement.

"' The woman on my hand is Zelda Dejardin, daughter of the Commander of the First Legion. From now on, she and everyone closely associated with her is under royal protection. She and her master save lives daily and anyone who attempts to inflict suffering on them will not only be punished by death, but also the assassin's kin."

Link waited a moment, watching the various reactions of the onlookers. Awe, cheering, clapping and swarming were the usual reactions. However, he was looking for a specific reaction. His pupils twitched back and forth in alarm, looking for that one person, and finally found him.

Zelda stared at him in shock, but when she looked into his eyes she understood what he was trying to do.

"James! Ragnar! Come here!" he yelled over Zelda's head, not taking his eyes off the one person.

Two huge men, not much older than Zelda, ran up to her and stopped right next to her. Zelda marvelled at how apt her master's description was. Although Link already towered over her by more than a head, his brothers managed to be three to four heads taller than her. She felt as if there were mountains standing beside her, not men. Link let go of her hand and briefly explained to his brothers what his plan was and Zelda was amazed, at his keen senses, though he seemed heated after the dance.

'Or was it just a game?'  Zelda remembered the old man's tale and wondered if all four brothers had more in common with their father than assumed.

Slowly she turned her head to Link, who was heatedly arguing with his brother Ragnar, while both had a strange glint in their eyes. Zelda barely heard what Link was saying to her, she only saw him rush into the crowd with Ragnar, chasing after a man.

But then James cleared his throat and Zelda was dragged out of her trance. Jerkily, she turned her head to him, feeling that he had said something.

"Excuse me, Your Royal Highness, could you repeat what you said one more time?"

He laughed sheepishly. "All I said was that you had better come with me before you become the epicentre of attention any longer. Anyway, you look as if you're going to topple over at any moment."

Indeed, her legs were shaking, though it was not because of the cold. "Goodness, you're right!"

James laughed again and offered her a supporting arm, gratefully she leaned on him and pointed him in the direction she wanted.

"gracious Healer, I heard from my brother Link how gifted you were. He was just standing there and hadn't said anything yet, but youJ knew immediately where the pain was. I knew immediately that I had to meet you and work with you, because I recognise my equal immediately. I am also very interested in science and think that together we can achieve amazing things. My brothers unfortunately have their focus elsewhere and only Robbie and Purah can reasonably keep up with me, but with you I see a lot of potential that needs to be tapped and nurtured." Zelda heard the hint of disappointment and teasing sarcasm when he spoke of his brothers and had to stifle a laugh. She remembered the Master telling her that James was more focused on the sciences and thought of what it would be like to work with him.

"Agreed. Science is also my speciality and I feel severely underused with my Master. However, I will come with you to the castle under certain conditions."

"Of course, speak as you wish."

"My master's little runner is to be given a decent post in the castle with which he can support his family decently financially. With our master he got payment very irregularly, if anything at all, and so I always shared my portion with him."

As she spoke of her terms, the two walked through the crowd, past her master's stall and up to a point just before the bridge to the castle. Zelda sensed that this was only the beginning of a great change, but she had no idea what to expect.

End of chapter one

Notes:

based on the Zelink reversed roles AU Art of @/TheNebulace on Twitter I had the inspiration to write this multiple chapter Story of Zelda being a healer and Link being a Heir to the Throne.

Many characters name's are based on real npc from botw or are legendary/historically personalities.

Selim:historical chronicles says he was a ruthless and mighty emperor of the ottoman empire who protected the sacred religious grounds until his last breath. Lived in the 15th century

Ragnar: legendary Viking king and (is here) based on his Viking Series character

Lagertha: legendary queen, wife of Ragnar and warrior (here based on the Viking Series character with no relationship to her half brother Ragnar)

Queen Bonduca: [aka Boudicca] historically British Queen and Commander of a Legion 61 AC (here the mother of Ragnar)

Ecberht: King of the Wessex in 8th century, fought against the invasion of the Vikings, also here based in the Viking Series character

Queen Seaxbourgh: historical mother of the historical Ecberht

James: historical successor of Queen Elizabeth Tudor, has here red hair to honour the red haired Queen Elizabeth Tudor

Queen Elizabeth: historically daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, Tudor-Family. Lived in the 16th century.

Nebb & Celessia: NPC from Botw

[staytiny-angel]

Checkmate

Pairing - Drew McIntyre/Seth Rollins/Becky Lynch

Rating: Explicit (Its filth yall)

Warnings: SMUT, Sex Magic, Mentions of decapitation, and a severed head?

Summary: King Sethiel, Queen Rebecca and their loyal General Drew celebrate finally taking back Seth's birthright.

Taglist: @hitory--chan @theworldofotps @finnsauroraborealis @axelwolf8109 @mondaynightriott @sethsevolution @rxllynch @writinglionqueen @swifteforeverandalways @neversatisfiedgirl @lkasapovic @new-zealand-chic

Authors Note: See this picture 🔽🔽🔽

this man is trying to ruin my entire existence, I swear to God. I am currently writing 5 other fics and this big Scottish motherfucker done totally derailed me. And then these two who just ruin me everyday.

King Sethiel sat on his throne, Queen Rebecca by his side both monarchs becoming increasingly annoyed with the way they were being spoken to as they listened to the advisor they'd inherited drone on about the state of their newly won kingdom.

General Drew McIntyre stood to the side as he watched his King and Queen become more and more fed up with the way Lord Heyman patronizingly spoke to them.

While yes, his King and Queen were young both Sethiel and Rebecca were a formidable force on the battlefield and not ones to be trifled with. The Mage and Warrior had defeated Sethiel's Warlord grandfather and after his parents had refused to take the throne, taken it for themselves.

'Can we kill him yet?' Rebecca mouthed at him, rolling her eyes in disgust when Drew shook his head.

"Do you really think that you're going to just pull the wool over our eyes as you did my grandfather?" Sethiel finally says in a deceptively quiet voice. "You know, Lord Heyman I do try my best not to use mind spells…they have a habit of leaving a…shall we say lasting impression on the victim's mind….but I find I haven't the patience for my General and Queen to discover the rest of your deceptions."

"My King, I have no idea what you could possibly mean by…." Heyman says trying to find a way out of the trap he could already feel closing around him

Seth simply makes a delicate motion in the air cutting off the portly man's words with a spark of purple energy.

"Please, no more lies Lord Heyman," Seth says rising from his throne and walking towards the man, Drew at his heels, just in case. "Now let's see what exactly you have planned." The master mage says before chanting under his breath as a halo of dark purple energy surrounds the panicking Lord's head.

Drew loved this part. While he and his Queen had no problems beating the truth out of their enemies…his King, who quite frankly was always attractive despite being a bit of a brat at times was even more so when using his magic. Most people found the purple glow that currently filled Seth's normally dark brown eyes disturbing but not Drew. Those eyes meant life to him for his king's magic-filled eyes had been the first thing he'd seen when the then Prince had quite literally brought Drew back from the dead.

Drew, Sethiel, and Rebecca had all grown up together in the kingdom ruled by Rebecca's older brother. Seth's parents had begged King Balor for sanctuary when they had managed to escape Princess Stephanie's father who had tried to stop the Princess from marrying Seth's father who he believed wasn't good enough (or controllable enough) for his daughter. Drew's parents had made a similar decision and followed the displaced Princess and her soldier into King Balor and Queen Violet's kingdom.

The three of them had been inseparable ever since, so much so that when Drew had been killed protecting them from a wolf attack, the Prince, in his grief ripped a hole in the afterlife to bring Drew back to them. That moment cemented them, the princely mage, the warrior princess and their trusted knight as more then childhood friends. They were all they would ever need and as long as they were together? Everyone else should just get out of their way.

"He plans to set his pet beast loose on us in the night," his King says bringing Drew out of the past and into the present as the spell around Heyman shattered and the traitorous Lord came back to himself.

At these words, Queen Rebecca rose and retrieved a blood-soaked sack from behind her throne "Was he now? Too bad I beheaded that monster yesterday then." She says with a wicked smirk as she walked down to where the other three men were standing and dumped the severed head of Brock Lesnar at Heyman's feet to his disgusted horror and her men's awe.

Drew whistled "That new ax I gifted you for yule came in handy I see."

"It surely did," She replied with a smile

"Take him away," Seth told the guards at the door. "And place his beastly lover's head in the cell with him to remind him of his mistakes"

"Do not come back here." Rebecca added "We will come out when we're ready"

As soon as the heavy doors close behind the last of the guards, and Seth locks them with a flash of purple light. Drew tugs his King toward him, covering the monarch's mouth with his own in a rough kiss.

"You know what being so close to your magic does to me, love" he growls

"Why do you think I did it?" Seth replies with a naughty smirk causing their Queen to giggle

"And you, little minx. When did you sneak off and behead Heyman's beast?"

"Last night, while you two were…otherwise engaged" she replies cheekily right before Drew gives her an equally rough and passionate kiss.

"Throne, my wicked ones." He says nudging them both toward the dias. "Let's celebrate. Our last enemy has been defeated and your birthright is finally yours My King" Drew says softly before sitting in Seth's throne himself.

"Kneel, your majesties" Drew commands

Seth and Becky share an equally evil grin and kneel before the general of their armies "But I thought we were in charge," Becky says looking up at him innocently

"I mean really, that's my throne. I could have you executed" Seth says equally innocent

"Silence teases. I have been with both of you for most of my life, and we all know who is in charge when it comes to these sorts of activities" Drew says on a deep chuckle, spreading his legs to create a space for both of them.

Already knowing exactly what their lover wanted of them, the King and Queen worked together to undo the laces on Drew's breeches, freeing his already hard cock.

"Don't," Drew says before either of them could get a word in. "You both know quite well what you do to me. Now take care of it"

Drew looked down and moaned as his pair of pretty royals began to lick at his cock together, sometimes getting distracted by one another and kissing deeply.

"Give me these," Drew says, scooping their crowns off their heads and tossing Becky's onto the seat of her throne, before placing Seth's on his own head.

"You're so cruel, Love" Seth murmurs between licks and sucks at the head of his lover's cock "You know what you wearing my crown does to ME"

"Turnabout is fair play, darling" Drew murmurs in return taking a fistful of raven hair in one hand and one of firey orange-red in the other, moaning as they expertly licked and sucked at him.

"Up, spitfire. Take that gown off" Drew orders his Queen

Quickly doing as her general commands, soon his Queen's perfectly curvy warrior's body was bared to his gaze.

"Seth, go sit on our Queen's throne. You may watch and touch .but if you come you will be punished" Drew tells his King

"Yes, sir" Seth replied quietly before stripping and settling himself in his Queen's throne, holding her crown in hands for a moment before shrugging and placing the Onyx and Silver tiara on his own head.

After making sure Seth had done as he said Drew turned is attention to the woman standing in front of him. "Now as for you. Eyes on me, Spitfire.” Waiting for her to do as he said and look at him he told her “I want this sexy fucking mouth on my cock” he says rubbing his thumb across her plush red lips.

Becky smirked and gracefully kneeling between his legs took her lover’s cock in her mouth, causing his head to drop back on the couch and let loose a loud groan. “That’s it, love,” He said running his fingers through her long red hair, as she started to bob her head taking him deeper and deeper with each pass.

After a few long minutes, he tugged on her hair signaling to stop. “Our Spitfire is so good at that," Drew says lazily looking over at Seth, sitting there stroking his own cock slowly.

"I don’t want to come down your throat right now sweetheart, but I do want my mouth on that cunt." Drew growls standing and in one motion placing his Queen in the seat he was just occupying.

Now Drew was the one kneeling in front of the throne as he placed his Queen's legs over the armrest and buried his face in between her legs

“Bloody Hell your so good at this please baby, fuck you take care of me so good,” Becky said babbling as he slowly fried her brain with pleasure, his thick beard rasping against her thighs adding another layer of sensation to the always overwhelming experience.

“Come on, Spitfire come on my face, then I’m going to make you come again on my cock”

Almost instantly after being given permission, Rebecca wailed Drew’s name loudly as she fell over into her orgasm, not giving a damn who might have heard her. It wasn't like the entire kingdom didn't know that they were actually ruled by three instead of two and that the first decree wasn't going to be making group marriages legal so that their precious knight would be the King he was meant to be alongside them.

Before her pussy could even stop spasming in pleasure Drew reached down and gripped her hips and in an impressive show of strength hauled her up onto his lap and impaled her right on his rigid cock, causing an instant second orgasm as he started bouncing her up and down taking her hard and deep just the way she loved it.

Another one, spitfire, with me.” He said before taking one hand off her hip to rub at her swollen, sensitive clit.

“DREW!” She screamed as she came for the third time, the tight, clenching inner muscles of her pussy dragging Drew happily over the edge with her with a guttural groan of her name.

Both Becky and Drew turned their heads to face Seth, where he was still sitting, practically vibrating as he now gripped the armrests of his wife's throne, a ring of pale purple magic circling the base of his cock.

"Our King was such a good boy wasn't he darling?" Drew says to Becky, licking his lips. "I think he deserves a reward, don't you? Why don't you go…help him out?"

Becky got to her husband first, removing her crown from his head and placing it on the ground before straddling his lap and running her hands through his long raven hair. "Such a good boy, listening to our lover."

"Make our Queen come again, love. Then you can remove the spell and have your own release." Drew says watching them with a filthy smile.

"Are you ready for me, My King" Becky asks kissing him gently

"Please…please use me, my Queen," Seth whispered in a broken voice that bordered on a whine.

All three lovers moan as Becky took Seth's needy cock inside her and she began to rock back and forth chasing another orgasm

"That's it darling," Seth said leaning down to suck a hard nipple into his mouth.

"Come again, sweetheart. Come for both your Kings." Drew growled

Becky's orgasmic scream was so loud Drew knew the maids would be blushing in their presence for a fortnight.

"Can.…I? Can I….please?" Seth begged

"Release your spell, Darling" Becky gasps, still shaken by the aftershocks of her pleasure "Fill me up"

Seth threw his head back as his eyes turned an even brighter purple and every candle in the throne room flared as he flooded her pussy with his seed.

"Don't even think about falling asleep, Darlings we have a chamber for that" Drew scolds them, only to be greeted by twin snores

Drew sighed, realizing he'd spoken too late and after dressing himself went to clear the hallways once again so he wouldn't have to kill anyone for seeing his lovers naked when he carried them to bed.

[dinfeanoriel]

Tempest Tossed

A Linked Universe fic I decided to write today when the idea hit me. It took a bit of a sad turn... Linked Universe belongs to Linked Universe and Jojo56830! I own nothing but my writing.  ~~~~~~~

They’d noticed the gathering storm before it hit. There had been signs here and there. A shift in the wind, a drop in temperature, and the disturbance of the waters surrounding them. The roiling, thick, black clouds in the distance drew nearer and nearer until they had finally reached them.  

The tumultuous downpour was the first to assault them followed by the harsh and vindictive winds.

The Links had done their best to prepare for it, but all but one of them was an expert sailor who knew what to expect. And so, it was up to the youngest of their group to lead and guide them through what they were to do.

Wind was piloting the vessel they had boarded only hours before, fighting to keep it steady as the unforgiving waves slammed against all sides. The ship rocked perilously back and forth, threatening to capsize them if they made a single wrong move. The sailor remained calm and focused, calling out terms the other Heroes were more-or-less familiar with.

Strangely, it was Four who would interpret them- his explanation being that he was well-read.

Legend, Warrior had noticed, had grown far paler than he thought possible, and he briefly feared he was growing seasick. He was also not moving, instead, he was clinging to one of the masts of the ship, murmuring to himself and eyes darting back and forth at the raging waters and vengeful storm. Never once did he move away from it.

“Legend!” Warrior shouted, fighting his way to the tense Hero. He stumbled when the ship listed sideways and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught hold of a rope whipping in the air. He saw Legend cower against the mast, ducking his head low and squeezing his eyes shut.

His breathing was sharp and unmeasured and his hand was clutching at his heart,  telling Warrior he was on the brink of a panic attack. Never had the Knight seen Legend so unfettered and downright terrified!

It worried him. He knew something had triggered it. The storm? Maybe the ship? Legend hadn’t wanted to board it. He’d been extremely reluctant to. He knew it was a losing battle, and when Legend realized there was no getting out of it, he’d stormed aboard and disappeared into the hull.

Hyrule later reported that Legend was acting strangely. Out of character and antsy. The Links had wondered about it. Legend was nothing more than a ghost wandering aimlessly down below, arms wrapped tightly around himself and mutterings spewing from his lips.

They hadn’t paid it too much attention, but now, Warrior realized they should have noticed something was wrong. They should have looked deeper and seen that Legend wasn’t acting like his troublesome self.

There was something more to it. Something more to his reluctance and anxiousness. Seeing him now, nothing more than a quivering mess slumped against the mass, Warrior knew he needed to reach him. And fast!

None of the other Links had noticed. The Heroes were occupied with executing Wind’s commands.

A heavy box briefly distracted the Knight as the crate slid against the wooden deck, breezing past him and slamming against the railing. Warrior cringed when it splintered into pieces, the items within lost to the greedy sea. Turning back to his quailing friend, determination flared in Warrior’s eyes and he tightened his grip on the rope, using it to pull himself up towards Legend.

He planted one foot in front of the other, moving with caution. One eye was screwed shut against the wind and the other partially opened as he made his way to the main mast.

He grunted when he almost lost his grip due to the ship jerking left and throwing him forward. With a fierce scowl, Warrior swallowed back his own fear that sparked and threatened to ignite. He didn’t need to be an expert sailor to know the tempest was bad.

Very, very bad.

Warrior hadn’t missed the flicker of worry and concern that flashed across Wind’s otherwise steely visage.

“Steady!” The sailor cried out, straining his voice to be heard by everyone, “Keep her steady!” His knuckles were turning white from the vice-like grip he had on the handles of the steering wheel. “Pops!” He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but even Wind was questioning whether or not they would be able to ride out the storm. It was the worst he’d experienced on the Great Sea and he didn’t like how dark it was getting.

Something about it struck him as unnatural.

Time whipped his head in Wind’s direction upon hearing his name. His teeth grit together when his hair mercilessly lashed at his face and stabbed his single good eye, but he did not waver in his task.

“I need you here!”  

Time immediately dropped what he was doing and forced his way to the upper deck. His feet were almost knocked out from beneath him by the wind, and Warrior was amazed by how Time managed the impossible feat of remaining upright. He soon joined the sailor at the wheel, and helped to keep it still.

A deafening groan resonated through the air when the ship careened to the left, and Warrior’s stomach plummeted when Four stumbled and crashed painfully against the wooden planks. His head smacked against the deck the same time a boisterous clap of thunder splintered the sky.

“Four!”

Twilight lunged, snatching the dazed Hero before he could slide down the slanted deck and into the wrathful ocean. He yanked him close, Four latching onto him with wide eyes and chest heaving.

Warrior breathed a sigh of relief, his heart thundering in his chest and pulsing in his ears.

That...had been a close call.

“Four, are you alright?!” Sky demanded to know, having heard Twilight’s cry but being unable to turn and see what was happening. Worry laced his tone and coated his words, the Skyloftian sitting back on his heels and yanking the rope he held with all his strength.

He was soaked to the bone, hair clinging to his face and neck and boots uncomfortably soggy. It was difficult to gain any traction from how wet the deck had become but he managed to succeed.

“He’s fine!” Twilight answered for the dazed Hero he had in his arms. The colorful Link was was collapsed against his chest, eyes fluttering and mind disoriented. Twilight worried his lower lip. Four had hit his head pretty hard. No doubt he probably got a concussion but no one was in the position of fetching a Red Potion. “But I think he’s out of commission!”

Not good.

Wild scowled and glared up into the blanket of darkness above them. Lightning flashed brilliantly, the thunder bellowing angrily in response. The Hero tugged strongly at the rope directing the sail with Sky’s aid.

They were both struggling to keep a good grasp on it. The abrupt movements of the ship and force of the wind weren’t doing them any favors.

“Hyrule! Where are you?!” Time’s deep voice hollered over the agonized wind. It comforted the Heroes to hear him. His steady and calm voice, reassuring presence, and composed appearance. How he managed to keep his cool in any given situation was beyond them, but the Heroes were grateful for the stability he gave them.

“Here!” A smaller voice replied. It was horribly distorted and warped but the Heroes were relieved to hear it.

Warrior plunged onwards, ignoring how the wind attempted to beat him back. He was intent on reaching Legend. When he’d finally got to him, his hand flew out to shake the stock still Legend from whatever panic had overtaken him, “Legend! Need you here, bud!”

Legend blinked then slowly raised his haunted eyes to meet Warrior. The Knight was stunned to see the intense conflict taking place within them.

“Warrior,”

It was the ghost of a whisper and the Captain had to strain his ears to catch it, but he did.

“It can’t happen again…”

Confusion furrowed Warrior’s brow at the shuddering words. Legend was looking worse for wear. Worse than usual. There was a fear in those cobalt blues he’d never before seen. A fear that spoke of a traumatizing past experience.

Warrior cursed to himself. The storm must have dredged up some unwanted memories at a most unprecedented and inopportune moment.

“Hey!” He briskly shook Legend, forcing the younger to look up at him again, “I need you to stay with me, alright?”

Legend swallowed thickly, gaze wandering past Warrior’s shoulder and to the stormy waters. The waves crashed into one another and slammed mercilessly against the surface and he tensed again.

Memories from several years ago crawled unbidden to his mind, forcing him to relive the terrifying nightmare he’d had to endure…

~~~~~~~

A small, struggling vessel caught amidst the chaos and confusion of the great and terrible storm that had suddenly swept in unannounced.

A young Hylian boy wearing tan breeches and long-sleeved undershirt beneath his green tunic, grunting as he fought to maintain control of his little boat.

Knowing his efforts were futile but trying anyways. Survival was all that mattered.

He was afraid. So deeply afraid that he wouldn’t make it out alive.

His breath caught and he pulled at the rope with his teeth clenched, praying that this next gigantic wave wouldn’t come crashing down on top of him and send him sinking into the deepest, darkest, depths of the ocean.

“-gend! Legend!”

~~~~~~~

Legend sucked in a sharp breath when the familiar voice that didn’t belong to this memory seeped into his mind, disturbing his thoughts and sending them skittering. It served to reign him back into the present, and when he snapped his head up, it was to find Warrior standing before him, a scowl fixed on his stern features.

He’d adopted his “Captain’s Persona,” as Wind dubbed it.

“Snap out of it!” The Knight sharply ordered him, giving him another shake, “I know it’s easier said than done, but if you don’t lend us a hand, we’re doomed!”

Legend knew he spoke nothing but the truth. But it was hard! Everywhere he looked, everything he saw, reminded him of his experience back then that had ended in disaster. None of them knew of Koholint. He’d kept all that encompassed that adventure to himself. A dark secret never to be revealed and one he would take down to the grave with him.

The breeze picked up without warning, growing in both speed and strength. The howling of the anguished winds swirled madly around the nine scattered about the deck. The fabric of their clothing flapped brutally against their skin, their hair whipping at their eyes and faces and leaving behind stinging reminders.

Muffled voices cried out in a mixture of alarm and urgency.

Legend exhaled shakily, closing his eyes and taking a moment to gather his wits together. If he didn’t want a repeat of that time, then the Heroes needed him to stay in the here-and-now. This boat was much bigger than his own had been and more likely to endure the brutality of the storm than his did.

The futile attempts to reassure himself fell flat. His stomach twisted and churned, sharp stabs of fear stealing his very breath away every time the ship would creak and groan or sway from the force of the wind and waves.

Saltwater spilled over the railings and onto the deck, soaking his and Warrior’s boots.

~~~~~~~

The foreboding wall of water rose tall and proud before him, monstrous in both size and grandeur. The Hylian stared in horror and dismay, his heart thumping once against his chest before plummeting deep down.

His features morphed into despair. He knew then and there that he would never make it home.

Was this how his life was to end? Was he to suffer an agonizing fate after all he had done for Hyrule as her Hero? Was this how the Goddess had chosen to repay her Chosen One? Were his sacrifices, his losses, his grief, and pain all for naught?

Where had he gone wrong?

~~~~~~~

“Come on, Legend!”

A strong hand anchoring him to the present once more grabbed hold of his arm, dragging him away from the mast he’d been clutching to.

“You’re sticking with me!”

Relief swamped over Legend at the words and he allowed Warrior to lead him away. The Knight never relinquished his grip. For that, Legend was grateful. He wasn’t sure if he trusted himself not to fall back into the past and lose himself in those horrific memories.

He swallowed back the paralyzing fear lingering at the edges of his mind. He licked his chapped lips and called above the wind, “Where are we going?”

Warrior spared him a look and brief, relieved, grin. He was glad to hear his voice.

“The sailor-”

And that’s as far as Warrior got when an explosion of white light blinded the both of them-

~~~~~~~

The vessel strove to remain upright in the raging ocean. The waves tossed and turned, thunderously crashing against the surface and nearly capsizing his boat more times than he cared to count. The storm was unrelenting. Lightning split the sky, flashing erratically. The thunder would bellow in retort, causing the Hylian to cringe and the coils of fear and dread to thicken in his stomach.

His heart pounded, his chest heaved. It was excruciating! Never had he felt such suffocating terror!

His boat began to ascend the daunting wave with agonizing slowness, foam and water sprinkling his face and drenching his already soaked form. This was a feat he’d already deemed impossible.

The bitter cold clutched him within its grasp and he shivered. Whether it was from the freezing temperature or from the immobilizing fear that gripped him, he did not know.

It didn’t truly matter.

There was no way he would make it. His boat was too small. But still, he tried. He wanted to live. He wanted to make it home! And so, he tried to believe.

As if the Goddess had decided to grant him a miracle, the straining vessel made it over the wave and skimmed along the top of it.

A flood of relief overcame him but before he could celebrate, a bright, blinding light caught his attention.

Dread and panic burst within him. His eyes grew wide with a shrill gasp as the mast of his little boat exploded into millions of pieces. Wood splintered, the sharp, deafening crack echoing in his ears and ringing in his mind before all went black…

~~~~~~~

Legend felt strangely light and airborne. In the distance, he could have sworn he heard an agonized cry and anguished shouts of despair and disbelief.

Was he the one screaming? It didn’t sound like him, but he knew the voice it belonged to. The name escaped him, but he knew it would later come to him.

His eyes were sealed tightly shut and his body flew back from whatever force had thrown it. His head rang, the fracturing of wood resonating in the air. He slapped his hands tighter against his head, flattening his pointed ears in order not to hear the terrible and familiar sound.

The painful collision with the wet and unforgiving deck jolted his body and Legend grunted from the impact.

Panicked calls of ‘Legend’ and ‘Warrior’ could barely be heard over the wailing wind brutally whipping at him.

Had it happened again? He couldn’t help but wonder, heart beating a frantic pace. He couldn’t think clearly. He couldn’t move. He was frozen in place, the turmoil he felt feeding the growing tempest within his own mind. His sense of reality started to slip and he desperately grabbed at it, trying to keep an air-tight lid on it.

“-end!” A strong voice shouted above the storm. Legend did not react, falling further into himself as he struggled and warred against the memories slipping through the cracks. He clutched to the seams threatening to burst apart. “Legend!”

Legend blearily blinked, fighting to clear his vision as he slowly lifted his head halfway. There was someone forcing their way through the storm towards him. An arm was cast over their face, protecting it from the items picked up by the wind, golden-blonde hair stabbing viciously at their eyes as they stubbornly moved one foot forward then the next, planting them firmly in the ground as they inched their way towards the fallen Hero.

Despite the blurriness of his vision, Legend would recognize that gold armor and the markings on that wise and stoic face anywhere. The scar that ran down one eye and the other eye that was never shut unless he were resting or lost in thought.

Time.

“Legend!” He hollered, asserting his powerful voice so that it carried and caressed Legend’s ears. His single, good, eye was squeezed shut, opening into a slit every few seconds and staring fixedly at Legend’s folded and pitiful form. He saw Legend looking at him, frantic and beyond anxious. He was scared.

The explosion had made him mostly deaf in his right ear, but his left had fared better.

He exhaled shakily as the unsettling realization sunk deep into his heart. The past had almost repeated itself. Lightning had struck the boat, but Legend was safe and sound. He was still on the vessel, not lost to the unforgiving sea.

He wasn’t being tossed and turned in the tumultuous waters, or dragged further into the depths of the ocean where he would drown and his body never to be found. 

“Legend! You must move!” Time was pressing himself onward, intent on reaching the shaken Hero.

Legend blinked then snapped his head forward, eyes growing wide at the gap in the ship’s railing and scorch marks along the deck. His feet were only inches from the hole the seawater poured in from. He scrambled backwards, petrified. 

The lightning...had done that?

Then again, lightning had been the reason his own little boat had been reduced to nothing but fragments of wood.

He swallowed thickly.

Too close.

That had been too close.

“Legend, please!” Hyrule’s tear-filled voice drifted to him, and Legend’s brow creased. Why was Hyrule crying? He was perfectly fine. A little rattled, but virtually unharmed. “We can’t lose you too!”

Wait…

They can’t…

Lose him too?

Horrified realization dawned on Legend just as Time arrived and crashed to his knees beside him. The older Link wrapped his arms tightly around the shell-shocked Hero, pulling him further away from the wide maw in the railing and chipped wood when Legend made to lung forward and see for himself what had become of his friend.

Saltwater spewed onto the deck but Legend didn’t notice.

His head felt light, his heart warring against what he had discovered.

This time, the storm hadn’t taken him.

This time, the lightning hadn’t destroyed his ship and left him to drift along the ocean on a single beam of wood.

This time, the Goddess had exercised mercy on him at the expense of another.

“NO!” Legend choked raggedly. His eyes stung, and not from the salt in the water that sprayed his face. He fought against Time’s hold on him. He kicked and struggled, refusing to believe the truth staring him in the face.

He knew... He knew deep down what it meant to be caught up in those waves in the middle of the great and terrible storm. 

“NO!”

Wind promptly burst into tears, his small body quaking from the force of his sobs as he clung desperately to the wheel.

His big brother...

His big brother was gone. The Hero he looked up to and idolized. The Hero who took Wind under his wing and ensured he was safe and physically well. The one who would allow him to sit in his lap and fix his hair or just loosely wrap his arms around him. 

Wind had always felt so safe and secure with him. 

The Knight who would immediately shed his scarf and wrap it snugly around the sailor if he even shivered once. 

The Knight Wind would no longer be able to see, to hug, or talk to. The Knight he’d grown to love and look up to as an older brother would no longer be there to wake him or listen to his stories or regal him with his own. 

Wind would never forget. He would never forget the Hylian Captain, Warrior, or how his life was so cruelly ripped away by a single freak of nature. 

Sky couldn’t wrap his mind around it. It felt so unreal- like a horrific dream. A nightmare. His mouth moved but couldn’t form words. The Skyloftian was at a loss. Devastation was all he knew and the Hero slowly lowered himself to the ground, weeping bitterly. He raised shaking hands to cradle his head, cobalt blues swimming with a multitude of emotions. 

Hyrule was curled up against the railing, face hidden in his arms and knees drawn to his chest as bone-rattling sobs shook his form. 

Wild was frozen. Twilight tense.

Both stood beside one another in disbelief and pain. Their hearts bled, the Heroes mourning the loss of their dearest friend. 

Four was mumbling incoherently, words jumbling over each other and eyes flickering madly.

“He’s gone-”

“He’s dead-”

“How could this happen-”

“Please, no-”

Legend couldn’t bring himself to believe it. 

“He...He’s not...” Legend began, only for his voice to fail him. His breathing picked up speed. His heart pounded. His mind swam as thoughts raced through it before going blank. “No...no...” He shook his head. 

Legend knew death.

He’d seen it before.

He’d watched it take his Uncle.

He’d watched it steal his parents.

And now...

Death had taken his friend.

His comrade.

His brother.

Warrior...

Warrior was gone.

Legend’s expression crumpled, twisting into one of agonized grief and excruciating pain.

“Warrior!” 

The strangled cry was carried by the winds, never to be answered or acknowledged by the one he hoped it would reach. 

Time shut his eye against the tears that rose within them. He ground his teeth together, cursing the Goddess while crushing Legend to him. His long fingers wove into Legend’s hair, pillowing the younger Hero’s head to his shoulder as he exhaled shakily. 

“Legend, you can’t-” His voice cracked and Time had to try again, softer this time, “He’s gone.”

Tears slipped down Legend’s grieved face, mingling with the rain as he slumped back against Time.

How could this be..?

Why..?

“Warrior’s gone…”

The Old Man was crying.

The sound pierced his heart and Legend knew then and there that it was true. This was no dream. It wasn’t even a nightmare. He wouldn’t wake to find himself marooned on an island with the others or traversing Wild’s world- where they’d been before.

And when he would wake, there would be something missing.

There would always be someone missing.

Legend had been fortunate this time.

The storm had taken something else. Something far more precious and irreplaceable.

It had taken Warrior in Legend’s stead.

[alloveroliver]

The Cradle, Vampire Alternate Universe HC.

Ikemen Revolution

A/N: I couldn’t get this AU out of my head after I wrote my last vampire fic! Below you will find a HC for all the suitors and then some. Lore is down at the bottom with a list of traits and weaknesses. Let me know what you think! I will be doing more with this HC soon so stay tuned!

• ·  .  ·  ´  `  · . ·•· . · ´ ` · . ·•· . · ´ ` · . ·•· . ·  ´  `  ·  .  · •

Neutrals:

Oliver Knight is human during the day (always an adult) and a vampire during the night. He makes an amber synthetic ether potion and sells it. He also works with humans and makes weapons to protect them from the Vampires. Never killing them, only incapacitating them until the humans can get away safely. Got turned into a vampire by accident after an experiment with vampire blood and magic went horribly wrong.       

Harr Silver also makes ether, but he gives his away to Loki to sell. His ether is from naturally grown plants out in the forbidden forest. He specializes in clear ether and pink, (the aphrodisiac)  to everyone's surprise. Harr hates that he became a vampire, making him bolder when he is hungry due to his survival instinct. He has a bit of self-loathing going on. His magic seems to be gone, but it's replaced with superhuman abilities he prefers. Still teaches Loki magic.

Loki Genetta is a vampire-human mix. He was born to a father that was a vampire and a human mother. He’s able to use magic since he is part human. Sells Harr’s ether during the day since the sun only gives him a bit of a sunburn. He wears his hood to hide his skin. His vampire family shunned Loki for being a halfling, ignored by his human family for being a ‘monster,’ and picked up by ancient vampires at the magic tower for his unique abilities.

Blanc Lapin is an ancient vampire, yet neutral. He's been around longer than anyone can count. Used to use his hypnotic stare to sway women to let him feed on them for many years. Now he's tired of that and refined to just asking nicely since vampires are more common. He drinks the ether that's meant for the humans, and no one can figure out why.

Black Army:

Ray Blackwell is a vampire that fails to feed regularly. His friends were worried until they realized it was his own way of curbing his superhuman abilities. He's able to control his hunger, even when he's beyond thirst, to slow down his body's capabilities. This makes him feel less like a monster and can focus on his tasks as King. Wants to be sympathetic to the humans in this regard. Has lots of willing women from the territory to feed on if he ever needs it.

Sirius Oswald exhibits signs of being a vampire. Sharp teeth, superhuman strength, pale skin, immortality, drinks blood. Yet, he can walk in the sun just fine. He seems to know more than he's letting on, but everyone is curious why he’s so different. Disappears often but always gets his job done beforehand.   

Luka Clemence was born into an old vampire family. All of the members have vampirism. He watched his brother go through brutal training to be in control of his thirst, but Luka was given free roam. Since he was the second born and not designated to titles, they allowed him to feed on whoever he liked. Play dates as a child ended badly due to his unending thirst, but he didn’t understand how horrible it was until he was older. After understanding how brutal he was as a child, he taught himself how to hold back, and prides himself on his self taught strength.

Seth Hyde holds it together pretty well until he’s hungry. Seth is always happy go lucky and keeps up a front that everything is fine. Deep down he's deeply disturbed by what he's become and is disgusted with himself. Yet, his instincts take over, and his mind switches into survival mode to feed. He hides his past from everyone but somehow knows random facts about the ancient vampires that the public doesn’t know, catching everyone off guard. 

Fenrir Godspeed has a particularly rabid form of vampirism. He goes to Oliver for a potion that settles him down. Forgetting to take it, he will fly off in a blind feed. He has the capability of killing an entire village in a matter of seconds before his mind gains control of his consciousness again. Keeps this extra potion on him at all times.

Red Army:

Lancelot Kingsley is an old old vampire, but not as old as Blanc. He’s also able to use magic to everyone's surprise. He can only become magical when he’s fed recently. He keeps a vile of his lovers (or someone's) blood with him at all times just in case. He feeds frequently, indulges really, to make sure he's the strongest he can be at all times. His father and mother were part of the ancient vampire race.

Jonah Clemence was born into an old vampire family. As the first born, he was raised with the families customs. He didn’t have his first feed from a live human until he was well into his life and ever since he has a hard time stopping. His family thought it would help him control his urges, but he became somewhat impulsive and indulgent because of this. Many people died at his hand due to his inability to stop. He’s been put on synthetic plasma and not allowed to drink from a person by the King's orders.    

Edgar Bright freely indulges in vials of blood he creates regularly. Its looked down upon by the other officers, making him look weak and unable to wait until feeding time but he doesn't seem to care what they think. He enjoys the blood of someone after they’ve eaten their fair share of cake and candies. The sweet taste of their blood is more of a treat than a necessity to feed. He can’t help that he's a sweet tooth. He feeds more than Lancelot does without anyone realizing it and happens to be the strongest out of the whole red army because of it.  

Kyle Ash is a newly turned vampire. He tries to take patients regularly but finds himself hypnotizing them with his stare to allow him to feed on them willingly. Uses his healing tongue more than he would like to. Kyle wants to help people, but his need to feed tends to be stronger than his morals. He also scared off his last lover by going too far. He drank so much of her blood she passed out for a couple of days making Kyle distraught. Once she came to and recovered, she left him and moved out of the cradle entirely. He feels guilty and goes out with Oliver and Blanc at night to drink away his gloomy feelings.

Zero has no memory of his past other than about five years back. He’s a vampire, but he has no idea how long he's been like this, where he came from, or who his family is. He has impressive control when it comes to feeding and knows when to stop. Zero hides a symbol on his neck that looks similar to what a breed of ancient vampires uses to mark their clan.

Other Citizens:

Amon Jabberwock is from an old order of vampire, the ancients. He was turned when he was only eight years old. He appears to look 19 now even though he's centuries old by now. He wants to subjugate the humans, making them into thralls for his ultimate purpose of making his clan the most powerful group of vampires in history.

Dean Tweedle was a professor when one of his favorite students became a vampire and joined the red army. Later, the student came back to ‘thank’ him by changing Dean into a vampire. He was distraught after he accidentally killed someone, and sought help from his brother only to find he was jealous of his humanity.

Dalim Tweedle was changed into a vampire by his twin brother without his consent. He’s angry at Dean and refuses to speak to him for the rest of their many many years. He also prefers to never drink from the same person twice. The ether you give humans can become addictive, due to is pleasurable feeling and can connect the vampire and human over time. He doesn’t want to get too attached to anyone as long as he’s a monster. 

Mousse Atlas pretends to be human in front of Alice. He denies all connection to vampires and firmly believes he will find a cure one day on his travels. He spends a lot of his time mapping out places with lore that have a vampirism cure. However, when his thirst grows too much, he hypnotizes someone to forget his face while he drinks from them.

Vampire traits:

Immortal(ish): They have a very long lifespan, but it does come to an end eventually. They do age, but it's very slow.

Fast: Can run at high speeds, or move so fast it appears as an instant to the human eye.

Superhuman strength: Depending on human ability their vampire traits are multiplied by that. (i.e., if someone was capable of amazing feats as a human they will be a stronger vampire.)

Appearance: Skin becomes duller than their human tone, sometimes pale looking. Their eyes gain a sort of filament at the back of their eye that is reflective. This helps them see in the dark. Nails become as strong as diamonds. Their skin is impenetrable by any known substance, even another vampire's nails/claws.

Hypnotic Stare: They can persuade people to do things for them/think a certain way by putting them in a hypnotic state.

Healing Tongue: Their saliva can heal humans wounds within seconds.

Humanity: They hold their humanity still, yet it's hard when their thirst becomes strong.

Food: Feeds on the blood of living things or synthetic plasma.  

Enthralling: Vampire thralls are made by over hypnotizing someone after they’ve been drained of blood. The vampire bites them over and over telling them to obey their every command. This technique can be used for many things, but a thrall is a typical outcome. The human is broken and is at the whim of their sired master.

Weakness’: Vampires can't use the cradle magic since they became the magical creature themselves. (Typically) Sunlight: Five seconds will burn their skin, but up to 30 seconds would kill them. Fire: Burns them to a crisp they can’t recover from. Not eating: If they don’t feed, they will grow too weak to hunt and eventually wither away.  

Ether: This is a potion that humans take to feel no pain. The pain is replaced with either numbness, warmth, or pleasure depending on the color of ether you drink. Clear is numbness, amber is warmth, and pink colored is pleasure. Vampires in the cradle use this on the ones they wish not to harm.

Lore: Most vampires are used for the armies since they are the strongest. Humans and vampires coexist in the Cradle to an extent. The main argument between the Red and Black armies is a moral one. The Red army believes everyone should be turned into a vampire, since they are stronger, and serve their army to grow it. They want to turn anyone loyal to the red army into a vampire while locking up others who are not. 

The Black army intends to prevent the turning of humans so that humanity can thrive. They actively chose never to turn anyone unless it is a dire situation or everyone has voted on and agreed to. The humans still have a choice in both territories thanks to the actions of the black army and their efforts with the government to create laws for both vampires and humans.  

To turn into a vampire, you must drink one's blood and allow the poisonous blood to kill you or die by any means. Either way, vampire blood will kill a human slowly.

[adilynia-kiden]

The Trinity Wedding: Part 1

Writer’s Note: As I mentioned before, I’m not entirely sure how many parts this wedding will be in, but you can find all the previous posts HERE.  Included in this post is a seating chart that will hopefully help give everyone an idea of where all the players are working from.

This has been Co-Written with Teren, Lycan, and Annest Ninro-Kiden (Teren’s daughter and best Wingwoman ever!)

With Adilynia seated, the risen Nishanians follow suit.

Alituari's conversation, while primarily communicated through intricate gestures between herself and her two companions, is interspersed with softly spoken words. "Lovecraft" and "Elthron" apparently having no linguistic equivalents in the unspoken tongue.

The man sat behind Tanner leans forward to keep contact with her while the pale figure between them idly puffs on his cigarette. Looking to their new Father for permission, Garren and Scassira rush forward to greet their friends like silent unfeterred puppies the moment the Baron nods in ascent to their silent requests.

Behind the Baron, Halcyon introduces himself to his two seat mates. "Sir Halcyon Krim." Having participated in the vote to allow the man to act as Ironwall's acting Regent, Count Ngu'nye and Baron Munro merely nod. Pax, however places her palms together in a vertical position, bowing her head to her fingertips in greeting.

The central figure on the sofa, Count Condea, next to Alituari chimes in on the discreet conversation at a volume which borders on - but doesn't exceed - rudeness. He quickly makes up for the discrepancy with his word choice. "We're all know who you are, Krim. We're why you're fuckin' here."

For just a moment, Sir Krim appears about to address the speaker, but instead licks his front teeth in an expression of abject discontent before engaging Pax in silent discourse; rather than allowing himself to be badgered into an unseemly display at such a public event.

"Celestials bless..." Anou'e whispers to Doyle, who quickly concurs in a whisper.

"No kidding. “

Once the twins had left to greet the rest of the party, Tanner returned to trying to take everything in. For a kid from Westfall, the opulence is not unlike the Thalassian court that he's only recently been introduced to, but certainly more awes inspiring considering the Marquis' of Nishan were of his same race.

Nothing is spared from his sea-glass eyes, especially not Addie, who he always returned to focus every 19 seconds exactly. Certainly an odd thing for those of the mind to study the young man who managed prim posture and a brave face for his obvious nerves. But when the title 'Sir' was uttered from the man behind the Baron, Tanner took a vested, but subtle interest in his glances to another knight. Sir Halycon Krim.

Poised and perfectly still, Brilaria muffled what little sound there was into her shoulder as she chuckled at Raelin and the twins. It was such a familiar sight to see the ginger heathen bring himself down to their level as to carry on a silent conversation in comical miming between them. LIke Maladir, her thumb moved along the golden ring on her finger in the same muscle memory familiarity that he did, to compensate for the smoke now making it's way into her hair.

While Addie preferred meditative breathing, the Confessor chose to think of all the ways that a situation could be worse; Broken glass. Void Sludge. Fel. Scourge. Old God tentacles. Felhound shit. Mmmm, Yogg blood... in order to keep her focus. Odd, but effective in combating what could be an annoyance for a Thalassian noble more to used to people jumping at her beck and call than her having to bite her tongue.

Taking in a sharp breath, Addie's eyes lifted to Jan'in from under the bow of her head and whispered words. "It's an honor to keep your company again, Baron Ninro..." Addie silently commended her own bravery as she usually tended to keep quiet around him, but her usual behavior had certainly been cast aside for the propriety of the day which demanded, at the very least, a polite and humble greeting. Raelin held his tongue, but the proverbial light bulb of recognition went on in his head in putting names to faces for Lady Annest's new husband.

Addie's long ears ticked at Anou'e and Doyle as her carefully controlled smile tipped more towards the genuine in the simple exchange. Not just the blessing, but it took her back into the suite were the young Incubus's reaction to the Praetorium epitaph 'Titans Balls' had made for quite the moment.

Mal too had heard it, and turned to share a look with Addie that said very little on the outside but ended in a playful wink from the Commander. "No cracks..." he finally whispered that tugged the fondest of expressions from the gilded Pixie.

“No cracks.” Addie repeated firmly, reaching over to cover her father’s hand with hers as a silent chuckle was shared between them

Tanner's keen eyes would pick out a dynamic assortment of fashions and styles which seemed to range from all black or all white, to rich vibrant hues in pastel, deep, or metallic colors. For all of the voices who ignored the Outsiders and spoke freely of their excitement, delight, or disappointment of the coming union between the Marquis and his Guardian, there were hundreds close enough to be seen clearly who elected to use the local hand signs and avoid any possibility of their discussions being taken in by the foreign creatures.

At the edges of the wedding venue, live music played from several different pianos, harps, cellos, violins, and flutes; all in perfect harmony with one another.

The sound of the music wafting inward to those seated seemed to hold significant meaning for the Nishanians, who all rose from their seats and turned to face the raised dais at front and center. An enormous uproar of cheers, hoots, and hollering comes from the crowd beyond the gates, followed by thunderous applause as Larcos Sobo'Avill opens a portal and Countess Nerenna Reon steps to the center.

Shimmers of various magical energies begin to fall like pixie dust from on high above them, and a second portal opens in front of Nerenna, no more than two feet to the left of her on the dais, and Teren Kiden steps out with a sheepish grin.

The sound of so many voices and applause resounding all around him is deafening, even for those without sensitive hearing. Those like Pax Urbi, Alituari Sunvein, the Praetorium, and the abruptly pissed off Vampire sat near them. "Son of a mother fucking piece of shit banging whore dung!"

Blissfully, his voice is swallowed up to most mundane ears in the crowd, and his comments are missed by the nearby children. "These two dumb sons of bitches better never need to get married again, or I'll eat their fucking young."

Alituari stifles a laugh, while she and Count Condea cover their ears. Grinsren catches the commentary more through the discreet use of his mental abilities, chuckling openly at his companion.

Poor Tanner had no idea what to expect. His mouth literally drops open with the widest expression of wonder that likely had ever been seen on his youthful features. Absolutely everything that happened from the moment the Nishanians rose and onward built his sense of awe exponentially.

He was moved to clap with them. To revel in their joy, even if he understood nothing more than the inspired pageantry. "Oh I am so using that the next time Duchess Bloodwind thinks she's going to out do me at the Fire Festival..." Brilaria had the good sense to whisper her malice into Raelin's ear as the heathen half-elf moved in close behind her, only to abandon his usual flirtatious ways and choose the chivalrous path of shielding Bri's ears for her.

"Really? The Marquis Tall, Dark and Spank My Ass walks out, and you're thinking about one upping the girl who stole your book in primaries?" Raelin said quietly, laughing and joining in the celebration the moment Teren walked on stage. He was half deaf anyway without charms.

Both Maladir and Addie had taken note of the important figures and followed their lead with regards to proper reactions and behaviors expected. However, their reactions to the crowd couldn't have been more polarized.

For Maladir, the sound is deafening and lowers his long ears slightly with the tip of his head. Inhaling deeply, his posture only draws straighter at the discomfort on his keen senses while one ears rests on his shoulder, and the other is muffled with the cup of his hand, yet his open expression and warmth never seems to dim.

For Addie, it's all she can do not to slam her hands against her ears and hide in her father's chest. A distinct loss of color is seen in her cheeks at the restraint necessary to slowly and politely, cover her sensitive ears and dip her head in such a way as to not disturb the sparkling tiara on her dark hair. "Oh Light bless..." she whispered, breathing slowly and focusing entirely on the beacon of stability that came with seeing Teren walk on the stage.

The Twins quickly join in with the joy and celebrations, Scassria tugging on her brother's arm at the spectacle and the sight of their Grandfather trying to cheer and hollar as loud as anyone else especially when they saw Teren.

Baron Ninro keeps close watch over the two children, scooping Scassira up and setting her between himself and Garren so the two don't topple one another from the sofa in their excitement.

From the stage, Teren shares a warm embrace with Larcos as the Arch-Magus moves to stand on his left; marking himself as the Best man for the event unfolding before the vast majority of their people. Whatever words are exchanged, they both laugh and nod. As the Magus catches sight of Brilaria, he gestures intricately, unleashing his magic in a long line of multi-colored sparkles which roar out through the crowd several times before aligning with the long white carpet to produce yet another portal at the far end of the aisle.

The roar of the crowd dies down as the portal remains open for several moments without any sign of use. The pregnant pause erupts into another round of raccous roars and cheers as Baroness Annest Ninro-Kiden steps through.

Stepping through she pauses as if she truly was lost or even surprised as she makes a gesture of glancing around before catching her daughter waving eagerly to her and Anne gives her a tiny wave and wink. There she straightened her shoulders preening for a moment before taking a step forward as if she was meant to walk down the aisle alone and she was quite owning it. None of her doubt of concern about impression there. But then she pauses as if realizing maybe she was missing someone and pauses again, looking to her Father as if asking silent isn't she missing someone?

[yukiwrites]

True Feelings Hidden in a Dream

Thank you so much for commissioning me, @lightningbug-lane! This pairing was so good to write for, I didn’t want to stop! ;v;)b I hope you like it! ;D

Summary: The Black Knight and Azura -- two souls burdened by the weight of their loyalty. Two stoic people who apparently had nothing in common, down to the pure white of her dress in contrast to his pitch black armor. And yet, they found in each other a company greater than anything they’ve ever felt.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

The rainy season in Askr was not kind to its inhabitants -- otherworldly or not. The downpours would start as sudden as they would stop, to the point that it was almost impossible to predict when it would rain again, as the very air turned damp for the duration of the season.

The sun rarely came out from behind the clouds, and when it did, it would quickly hide itself again, giving the entire continent an air of dreariness.

Still, the Order of Heroes had no time to rest, despite the foul weather. The war against Embla raged on, the usually traversable terrain turning into large wetlands, troubling any kind of unit, regardless of their movement type.

Horses were slower due to the mud, so were infantry and armored soldiers -- the fliers, on their hand, could barely see a thing in front of them unless they flew above the clouds, but being that faraway from Kiran's orders could compromise any operation, so that was a rare occurrence.

"Soldiers are adaptable." Anna had said to Kiran more than once during the Summoner's moments of hesitation. "Don't be afraid to put your trust in their skills and they'll repay you by bringing results."

Trusting the Commander's words, Kiran -- alongside every single Hero summoned she summoned -- knew she had to get used to this strange weather if she were to help save Askr from its invaders.

It was decided, then, that the Heroes would go forth to their missions in groups of four, ideally of mixed movement types so they could aid each other traverse the terrain.

In one of such missions, Kiran dispatched the Black Knight, Azura, Olivia and Clive so they could aid in reclaim a fort taken by Embla a few days previous -- they would to stay on standby at the fort's secret exit so as to ambush any enemies fleeing from the front assault.

Due to the emergence of a far-reaching wetlands between their starting point and goal, no carriages would be able to carry them there. The middle ground was too unstable for a horse, so Clive took Olivia with him so they could circle the area while the Black Knight and Azura would go through the middle: they would arrive roughly at the same time due to their movement restrictions, instead of marching at a foot soldier's pace through the longer path to accompany the only mounted knight.

Once everything was set, they began their march -- Clive and Olivia through east while Azura and the Black Knight took the middle route.

Azura's pure white dress and stocking immediately got stained the moment she stepped inside the wetlands. Despite the water under their knees looking clear, the soft earth under it rose quickly with their heavy steps, turning it into mud.

They walked in silence for a good part of the morning, both of them quite comfortable with not talking and focusing on the task at hand. It was only when they reached a quarter of the way that the ground started to harden under their feet, and soon they were walking on (mostly) dry land as the sky threatened a heavy rain since the day before.

"Why, I imagine Sir Clive could have come with us, after all." Azura blinked as the Black Knight offered a hand for her to get out of the shallow water. She peeked over his shoulder to the long, long way they still had ahead of them. "There are only plains as far as the eye can see, from this point onward."

The Black Knight nodded, turning his back to the princess so as to keep the march. "The ground is still too soft for a horse, however; especially one carrying two riders." He put pressure on his next step, feeling it sink a bit under his heavy armor. "Clive made the right decision."

Azura hummed in response, slightly pressuring her feet, not finding the softness her companion demonstrated. She then noticed how the Black Knight's steps left heavy trails on the ground, whereas her soft, bare feet barely got dirty from the mud all around. "What a heavy burden it must be, to carry this armor," she whispered to herself, almost unable to imagine how hard it should be to even walk while carrying such weight, let alone fight under it.

Were his face visible, it would be able to discern his gaze falling on her before turning back to the march. "It is a burden I carry in order to fulfill the task given to me by the one who holds my loyalty."

"Oh!" Azura took one hand to her mouth, as though to stop herself from saying any more unnecessary things. "How uncouth of me to assume. Please, forgive me."

The Black Knight shook his head, dismissing Azura's apology. "There is nothing to forgive, princess. Although the armor is indeed heavy, there are other burdens I carry that are heavier still." His voice echoed inside his helmet towards her, the wind carrying it through the open plains.

Azura's hand inadvertently reached her pendant, clutching it carefully. "I can understand. Regardless of whom I bid my loyalty to," the princess let out a forlorn smile, remembering her long-lost cousin, "there are burdens I carry that no one but me will be able to understand."

He nodded, closing his eyes to breath in. For a split of second, he thought that the both of them could be similar in a way, but soon dismissed such egregious idea.

A princess, her steps so delicate they barely drew a sound compared to his heavy feet, had nothing similar to a man whose goal in life was to master and die by the blade.

Still, he couldn't deny that, out of the large majority of the Heroes he was paired with, marching alongside Azura felt the rightest -- she didn't mind the long draws of silence nor did she try to start any small talks to 'break the ice', as he'd heard on occasion. When they did talk, it felt neither forced nor unpleasant. Every time he was paired with her, he knew that he could focus himself wholly on the mission and that she would do the same for her part -- straight-forward and gracious as only she was.

Azura thought quite the same of her masked companion. Never once had she seen his face, but that hardly mattered during battle: he took blows meant for her and rained destruction with his Alondite from afar, making her task of supporting him almost an easy one. Besides, she enjoyed the silence as much as she enjoyed singing on her own, so being paired with him was always a great time to put her thoughts in order -- because she knew he wouldn't disturb them.

What would disturb them, however, would be the sudden downpour.

"Oh, my!" Azura let out a weak 'eek' of surprise once the cold droplets turned into large showers over her skin. "I suppose we should have seen it coming."

The Black Knight breathed out, squinting to see through the thin eye-slit of his helmet. There weren't any trees for them to take cover under, though that was beside the point -- they knew it would rain one moment or another, and their timed mission didn't allow for any stalling, foul weather or no.

Both of them knew as much, so they simply kept walking as the ground turned more and more muddy under them. "I see now what you meant earlier, Sir Black Knight." Azura wiped her eyes to avoid the large droplets of water from falling on them, ultimately deciding to adjust her tiara so it would cover more of her forehead. "Sir Clive would have gotten stuck here if he had come with us."

He blinked, struggling to see clearly -- the rain was coming down so hard one could barely see their own hands stretched out in front of them -- due to his helmet's limitations. He sighed deeply, unwilling to unmask himself in front of someone, but soon remembering that Azura didn't hail from his home world: hiding his identity in front of her meant nothing.

"Watch your step, princess. We are about to witness the birth of a wetland." He said as he sharply took the helmet off, shaking his head once his face finally got out of that stuffy air.

"Oh, my. Sir Black Knight!" She blinked in surprise, taking a few steps forward so as to finally look at her companion's face. However, a thought soon dawned on her. "Ah, how thoughtless of me! I suppose it would be rather hard to see while wearing such restraining helmet."

He slicked his hair back so it wouldn't get onto his eyes, "faraway we are from our target, we cannot let our guard down -- I would rather reveal my identity than putting you at risk for not being able to see the enemy coming."

Azura placed her hand over her mouth, feeling her cheeks warming in response. "How dashing," she smiled, the sound of it bringing one to the knight's lips. "Then, allow me to repay your thoughtfulness the same way." She took a deep breath and close her eyes.

The unmasked knight tilted his head to the side, watching as the princess lifted one hand overhead.

Oh, Aqua! ♪

From a sacred prayer to our connection with life ♫

Please bestow upon us your protection ♪

Oh, Aqua! ♫

Hide us within your breast, ♪

And allow us to walk amongst you! ♫

She sang in a peppy tune, her movements flowing like the water all around her. As she danced, the raindrops followed close behind,  further and further away from her.

Soon all the water falling above their heads danced all around her instead, making only the area around them dry and safe for them to walk on -- and see in front of, as well.

The knight watched, mesmerized, as the rain seemed to avoid him as he walked. "Princess," he began once she walked back to him with her soft steps, her pendant glowing by her chest.

"Please, call me Azura." She smiled softly, clutching on the pendant so it wouldn't float. "It doesn't feel right to be called by an alias while looking at the real face under the helmet."

He felt the smile widen by his lips, unused to the sudden warmth washing over his chest. "Azura, then." He said, his voice now clearer than ever, without the helmet's echo nor the rain's noise to muffle it. The princess felt something tingling at the edge of her body, as though she could simply drop her head on his shoulder, close her eyes and be safe. Truly, rightfully safe. "Thank you, Sir Black Knight." She said without barely thinking it, as though the simple act of hearing her name by his unclouded voice were a gift she would hold close to her heart.

He closed his eyes for a moment, the bubbling sensation in his chest gaining shape when it reached his throat. "Zelgius." He said in a huff, their steps never failing to march. "The man under the helmet is called Zelgius."

"Zelgius," she tasted the name in her lips, licking them right after. "Thank you, Zelgius. For telling me your name."

The knight looked ahead, an almost self-deprecating smirk growing at the corner of his mouth. "I should be thanking you for the gracious display, Azura. Think nothing of the name of a masked man."

The princess hummed in response, not realizing she touched his armored shoulder. Quickly she retracted her hand, enjoying the shy smile that teased itself on her face. "Worry not that I shan't call your name once you are back to being the Black Knight, Zelgius. For now, however..."

"Yes," he blinked slowly, wondering if the mission could be prolonged for a while longer, "for now..."

Over the course of the next weeks that soon turned to months, Zelgius and Azura felt themselves drawn to each other -- even outside any missions. Be it by coincidence or fate, they even went to the same places, as though one's presence there brought the other's.

As much as the princess longed to gaze upon his handsome face again, Zelgius didn't take his helmet off often -- hardly ever, honestly -- but the few times he did, he would make sure that they were truly alone lest someone from his world discovered his secret.

Their meetings really shouldn't be called as so -- they mostly enjoyed each other's presence silently. Sometimes Azura would release the feeling bubbling inside her chest as a song followed by a dance, turning them into private spectacles, almost. Zelgius would most surely take his helmet off during such occasions, so he could listen to her melodious and far-reaching voice with the most clarity he could.

It was as though her words seeped deep into his throat, towards his chest; like her delicate yet rough hands pressed themselves against his bare chest, digging further into his heart.

It was breathtaking.

The princess felt the same turmoil inside of her, knowing her heart beat more wildly by her chest whenever she thought of or spoke with him. Even her eyes felt light, wanting to simply close themselves and give her entire being to his unbreakable defense; to the surely strong arms that rested under his dark armor.

The topic of her control over water sprang up one day, making her clutch her pendant with both hands as they waited the rain out under a tree. They weren't in a mission, no, they were simply taking a walk a ways of the castle when the rain started, catching them by surprise.

Immediately did the knight take his helmet off, as though the rain were an excuse for him to look clearly at Azura. He noticed how serious her gaze became as she looked nowhere in particular, her hand never letting go of the pendant.

"I suppose I have been feeling so... uncharacteristically happy lately that I almost forgot the weight the burdens related to these powers carry."

Zelgius felt the brand on his back almost burn, his expression mirroring Azura's. "I cannot say I do not feel the same." He tentatively looked at her, somehow never wanting to tear his gaze away from her graciousness.

"Once my role in this world ends, I will have to fulfill my true calling," she turned to him, her body being drawn to his cold armor -- to his warmth under it. She hesitantly reached to his face, longing to feel his skin. "The calling to live under a curse that might either seep me of my life or wash it with salvation." She said bitterly, and Zelgius knew that whatever waited for her back home would most likely result in her death, much like his own fate back in world.

"I suppose we indeed are more like than I thought." He whispered, taking a step towards her, allowing her thin fingers to brush through his wet hair. Closing his eyes to finally enjoy her touch, he slowly took her hand on his, the clunk of his armor a distant sound tingling his ears. "I, too, discovered a side of myself I never thought existed -- by being by your side."

Azura could feel his free hand sliding from her waist to her back, pulling her closer to him.

Ahh, the visceral need she had to rest her head on his shoulder; to allow herself to be simply a woman in the arms of a man who truly understood and supported her. She felt her heart beat in sync to his, feeling his shallow breath on the tip of her fingers. "Zelgius..."

He brought her hand to his cheek, holding it over his face as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to break down the walls he had built around his heart -- so its full, raw force could thump inside his chest and bring him the elation he only felt whenever Azura's eyes were on him.

"I have a duty I must uphold in my world, as I carry the burden of the mixed blood within me. They are what define me as a soldier, devoted to the blade from the moment I could wield one." He tilted his head to her hand, enjoying how she tangled her fingers through his hair. "Yet, what defines me as a man stands right in front of me." He opened his eyes, piercing his gaze into Azura's.

She felt the breath leaving her body, opening her mouth to reply.

Zelgius squeezed his hand on her back, a silent plea for her not to speak. "I must confess that I lack the experience needed to put a name to this feeling; however, for the first time in this existence of mine, I shall let my heart speak for me." He finally brought her to the closest he could, longing to feel her body on his, away from this restrictive armor. "I love you, Azura. Most fervently." He huffed, his heart thumping by his chest like never before.

The princess felt her eyes welling up with tears, her lips trembling. "Oh, Zelgius!" She pressed her forehead on his chestplate, weeping softly. "Do I have the right to feel this happiness while the one who holds my loyalty fights? How long can I allow myself to hold you and make you mine before I decide to shirk away from my duty?"

The knight finally, finally caressed his beloved's soft, long and wet hair, wanting to rid himself of his gauntlets so as to feel its sleekness on his skin. "This world is not our own -- it feels as though we are in a dream." His low voice reverberated through his armor right into Azura's body, making her legs go weak. "Will you not enjoy this short-lived dream alongside me, Azura?"

Warm tears flowed from the princess' eyes, Zelgius' soft touch on her chin making her lift her teary gaze to him. "We might finish our roles here any day, now. Next month; next week... Tomorrow, even." Her voice cracked, her body wanting so very much to be held by him, her feet stood on their tips. "Still, will you have me, my knight, my... Zelgius? Will you be mine for as long as this dream lasts?"

He closed in as she spoke, their breaths intertwining. "Even another hour in your presence, Azura," he brushed his lips on hers, his eyes on the verge of closing so as to enjoy her taste, "will be enough to drive me to go on through the battlefield that plagues my life."

"Oh, Zelgius..." She whispered before the impending kiss, their lips a perfect fit on each other. His roughness with her softness; their drenched bodies under a faraway tree, becoming one.

Their kiss started timid -- neither of them had experience in that regard, after all -- but soon they started exploring each other's mouths as Zelgius supported Azura after her legs gave out. She wrapped her arms around his neck, digging her nails on his scalp (finally she could feel it; caress it!) as he bent over towards her, exploring her semi-nude back with his gloved hands.

It was a strange yet overwhelmingly wonderful experience, to be held by someone they've longed the touch of for so long. Zelgius could feel his senses heightening and dulling at the same time: he was hyper-aware of their surroundings, yet overly conscious of how much force he should use so as not to hurt Azura in contact to his armor. He felt his increasingly hot body crave for hers, wanting nothing more than to embrace her and never let go, for as long as their dream lasted.

The dream of being accepted, of being understood, of being touched and touching in return. The dream he never thought he dreamt before he had met her, and yet the dream he saw most fervently each and every night after.

His mind and body had always been focused on mastering the blade. Her heart and soul had, from childhood, embraced the bleak future that awaited her. Both of them were certain their hearts wouldn't be fazed by anything, and yet...

Yet their bodies matched so well. Their tastes felt so right. Their minds, ideals and views of the world, although different, complemented each other.

The moment their dream began, they realized. Under that heated kiss and promises of never again sleeping apart, they realized.

They realized that they would have to make a choice, in the near future: To continue living the dream and turn their backs to reality, or live knowing that the one will always hold a piece of the other. That they would never live a life as a whole again, no matter how short-lived it would be.

They would have to make that choice -- tomorrow, next week, next year -- for as long as that sweet and binding dream lasted, they would live with these thoughts. However, for now… For now, they were the man, Zelgius and the woman, Azura.

Their duties at the back of their minds, they would, for the first time in their life, throw themselves to the unknown that it was following their hearts -- together, hand in hand.

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

what do you think about joethejohnston's comments about pearl and rose's relationship?

Erm, they make me feel… bad?

He seems to be attempting to be reassuring, but, and no offense to the guy, he had the exact opposite effect on me last night, welp. As in, posting reassurances about Pearl’s agency and how we shouldn’t worry because she wasn’t mind-controlled, she rebelled and made these choices and her and Rose were shown talking as friends and comrades and how there’s more to come in future episodes… and then immediately afterwards explaining how she literally physically could not disobey a direct order given by PD/Rose, who she was “made for”. A bit of getting my hopes up in one ask and then dashing them in the other.

It only applies to Pearl.

BECAUSE our Pearl was made for Pink Diamond, she must follow her orders.

Rose did not have this power or control over anyone else, and its ONLY because Pearl was made for her that Pink/Rose had this power over her.

This, besides being utterly horrifying as a concept, also pretty much sank all my excuses about her maybe being WD’s or some scrap heap rescue pearl or something, not PD’s custom-made personal slave. Or how maybe the “my last order to you” made the possibility of all future orders void - to at least level the playing field a tiny bit after the war, by removing that particular awful thing, and also perhaps removing the idea that Rose could in whatever capacity theoretically return to being PD on a shapeshifty whim, because if she can just turn around and be magically detected as “Pearl’s official owner” even after everything, Pearl’s freedom and wellbeing hinges entirely on Rose’s will and benevolence (even more than it already does?), and that’s never changing, and that is intensely disturbing.

It’s messed up because it’s now been outright said (unless he misspoke and just meant PD, and not “Rose”, as per one of my excuses above) that Rose had the power to literally order Pearl around at any time and she could (apparently, same as with the hand silencing, physically) NOT disobey. And he keeps saying how their relationship grew and changed, which we have yet to see (please bring on those summer eps soon, I have a lot riding on that first meeting ep), but what we HAVE seen is Rose using that power to give Pearl an order when it was convenient for her, or based on how she felt and what she wanted or didn’t want (and just generally really horrible, as not 5 seconds before that she was promising freedom for both of them and a complete and final rejection of their former lives and caste roles - which Pearl was actually really into! - and which, yes, being a pearl and bound to obey persisting direct orders from your owner very much spits in the face of). I find the implications present here pretty horrible.

The whole pearl programming thing he talked about is extremely, extremely, horrifyingly dark. Like, if we never saw later-day them as anything but a fluffy sunshine and roses (hah) relationship it’d still be messed up and need a ton of careful handling and unpacking to work. But we keep seeing the bad/sad bits, Pearl being jealous and grieving and traumatised and risking and devaluing her own life, and frankly being treated pretty shittily, and being told there were good times, too (a frequent complaint re:Pearlrose over the years, actually). And I don’t know about you but I am currently not very comfortable giving PD the benefit of the doubt of a gentle, careful, sensitive, respectful handling of the issue. Especially since we’ve, well, literally seen her use this when it suited her plans.

I see two options here after Pale Rose: either make Pearl/Rose deliberately really dark and awful, have Pearl overcome it and move on and that be a triumph, allow her to feel wronged and be angry, and double down on the gag order as the horrible violation of every principle of freedom and choice and self-determination Rose claims to espouse - of course this saddens me immensely, as the thought of “Rose dying is the best thing to happen to Pearl” always has.

Basically, it’s as @ayu-ohseki said in some asks to me:

I’ve been thinking about PD’s command, and in reflection, I think the intended audience reaction *is* to think it’s fucked up. Earlier that ep, Pearl remarks that she’s good at compartmentalizing, so I suspect on some level she knows it too–she just doesn’t let herself think about it.

And no doubt it’d already occurred to you as well… In terms of Rose herself as well as Rosepearl, I can’t imagine “well, you’re SUPPOSED to think it was fucked up” would be much comfort. :/ But it does make me think that we’ll at least see the matter addressed in upcoming episodes, so that’s something, maybe?

They could also try to have it be a mess but ultimately work at it and redeem it somehow, through a lot of time and concentrated effort (something I’m worried the show won’t be giving them, simply because there is So Much To Do) and a whole lot of apologising and deepening understanding on Rose’s part. While I would prefer the latter, I currently have, besides those tiny suggestions I’ve already mentioned above that would make this slightly more palatable for me, no true idea of how. Not since we’ve already seen a bunch of these two and how they went on after the war and up until the present day, and told that, well, you know Rose, she always did what she wanted, and is also “a horrible person”.

What most certainly doesn’t work for me is bringing that awfulness to the table (I seriously cannot begin to tell you just how much that gag order scene gives me chills and freaks me out), but then kind of… brushing it aside, claiming it was totally okay because it only happened a few times, and it was totally the last time there was an order given because PD said it would be (again, yup, I really have trouble trusting her with this and with anything atm), and not really dealing with the large amount of awful implications present. What I think Joe is trying to say we’re getting is exactly what I’ve wanted for 3 years, Pearl and Rose conspiring together as comrades and rejecting their roles and growing and changing together and whatnot. And on the surface, there was so much in that little scene in ASPR that I’d wanted for so, so long. Actual Rose -> Pearl affection? That hug! Cute blushing! Tender handholding! They sure talked the talk about rejecting their roles forever and being free! Rose getting starry eyed over Pearl and squeeing her name? A dream!

And then… that.

And I would like to believe (I want to believe), and I do believe Pearl really was a rebel and all of that is true, from LOOoBC to Back to the Barn to the Zoo arc, we see how much she hates acting “like a pearl” and how proud she is of belonging to “nobody”, I don’t see how that could all be a lie… And we hear that Rose made her feel like she was everything, we hear her sing about freedom and reinvention, but then what I keep actually seeing Rose do in the show, along with the revelations we keep getting about “how pearls work”, just doesn’t match up with all this. “Rose would never treat Pearl like a pearl!” is and has always been the cornerstone of it all, and, yeah, believe me, I want that to be true more than anything, that she didn’t, but, well… at the very least there’s one time she did, and we saw it, and it wasn’t, oh, super early into their relationship so they’re just figuring things out or anything, and it was a big friggin’ deal focus of a mini-subplot and episode. So yeah, please, convince me, outside that one hologram of that one tiny bit in Scabbard (which is also frankly now pretty dubious as to being a legitimate choice, because, really, what alternative did Pearl actually have? We’ve seen Homeworld has no place for “ownerless pearls”.), that Rose, the person with apparently every single bit of power in this relationship, ever put in the work and care required. That she herself perhaps realised (sadly too late, but she’s an established oblivious ass anyway, so that’d be in character I guess) that giving an order like that was absolutely horrifying and borderline unthinkable and very deeply violating, and that she tried to fix things, and that at least after some point in time Pearl’s freedom was not subject to her in any way. At least try, like, giving her a direct order to never have to obey a direct order ever again! I dunno, something!

And as I’ve mentioned before it kind of… baffles me, why they had to go to this extent with the awfulness? What would really be lost if pearls were really servants, as they keep calling them? As opposed to being made-for-order for owners (yuck) whose direct orders they literally cannot disobey? I feel like they reference a lot of tropes and visuals of a queen and her handmaiden, and also then of course more blatantly a lady and her knight, but then suddenly it goes into a master and a slave and gets horrible - and I’m not sure how intentional it all is and don’t know how it’ll be handled.

Anyway, here is a good meta post about some of this.

The scene is trying to harken back to an old trope where the noblewoman issues one final command before forsaking her right to rule and running off to live happily with their lover of low birth. Such a scene is inherently an act of trust on the part of the noblewoman because the recipient of the order will soon have no reason to obey it. The unspoken understanding is that it is for love of the woman and not her title that such an order will be followed. But that doesn’t work here because Pearl literally and physically had not choice but to obey. There is no trust there. If Pink Diamond had TRUSTED Pearl with her secret, then she would have asked for its safekeeping, not ordered it with an unbreakable command.

Here is another.

@ajoraverse has written some insightful things, too.

To close up, I’m just gonna stick a bit from a fic of mine here which I wrote as a reaction to Back to the Barn, Astronomy in Reverse, and which kind of illustrates how I made this work for me back then after that particular chilling reveal, and which feels quite relevant now (even if it’s jossed to hell)

“Pearl?”

“Yes, Steven?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I…” She wanted to say you weren’t ready and you’re too young and it’s all in the past, but instead she bit her tongue and opted for forcing out the truth. It was the least she could do, really, and he deserved it, and there was hardly any harm left to be done now. “I didn’t want you to think… differently of me.”

Maybe it had been selfish of her - she knew plenty of things over the years had been. But Steven started fidgeting again in that way that let her know he had more questions - and ones he was sure she wouldn’t like him asking. But she’d promised herself and promised them both she’d do her best, and that was what she fully intended.

“What Peridot said - did… did mom… own you?”

Pearl couldn’t help but cringe at the word, dug up again. It made her think of how long it had taken her to shake off some of its more insidious claws, and the effort it had taken to fully accept that if things happened to be a certain way on Homeworld it didn’t mean they had to be that way. It felt surprising - in a good way, perhaps - to see just how ingrained that belief had become in her, and how ridiculous so much of what Peridot was spouting at them had immediately been. She was proving to be a good test, if nothing else, and a stretching of figurative muscles that had lain mostly dormant for millennia, as isolated as they’d all been.  

But Steven had asked a question.

“For a while, formally, yes. But she refused to act like it. Always bucking convention, full of radical ideas… your mother was truly something else, Steven.”

Basically my point is Rose being adamant about never treating pearl as a pearl, the “ownership” only as a (legal-ish) formality in order to protect Pearl within the system that Rose had a lot of power in and in which she had none, and then Rose devoting herself to tearing that same system down. That’s what made it work for me, and that’s what’s now absent here and hence creeping me out. 

So yeah, I’m still really sad, and endlessly angry on Pearl’s account, and freaked out at the constantly deepening grimdark implications whenever we learn anything about Pearl(s). And of course I want my Merely Complicated Pearlrose back, but I don’t think that’s happening. Though another thing to keep in mind with regards to Joe is I have very strongly disagreed with some of his takes on things in the past, so… bring on “this Summer TM”, once again, I guess, and I’ll see what it ends up being in the actual episodes. I think I’ll do one last big post I have drafted which was an attempt to reply to more of the asks I got, and then mostly be done.

[justaramblingromantic]

And this too, shall pass.

Characters/Pairing: Kobayashi Rindou and Tsukasa Eishi/EiRin

Type: Canon-divergent AU, Post-series, Peerless-verse, Freestyle

Word Count: 1860

A/N: Erm. My muse is disrespecting the hell out of me. I am so angry, this was supposed to be a happy fic, gdi.

In the aftermath of it all, he was…confused.

Yes, losing had been an incredibly upsetting blow, and maybe he was still reeling in shock at the moment because it had been so long since he had last lost a match on the field…yet somehow, the dull ache of this defeat had only felt passingly insignificant in light of the other bigger thing that had been callously wrenched from him as a result.

His belief.

Everything that he had so firmly believed in, all that unwavering conviction that he once possessed in choosing this path to walk had crumbled and dissolved like wet, shifting sand in the face of the relentless tide that was the opposition, sweeping him so far out into the faithless depths of the unknown, leaving him aimless and without compass to ever find his way back again.

He did not understand it at all; were they wrong, after all? Was he so wrong, for believing in and fighting for the ideal that he had honestly, wholeheartedly, thought was right?

He had always been one to be straightforward and unhesitating when it came to his goals. Everything that he had done in the course of his life had been for the sake of achieving his dreams, and he went after them with relentless, hounding tenacity and focus. Discipline, dedication, drive. They were all he knew to be. Some people called him ‘selfish’, but such was the only way he knew to stay true to himself.

Even then, the road was never easy, but the goal had always been ever clear. All he had to do was keep his head up and keep heading unerringly towards the light, no matter how many times he stumbled, no matter how many times he fell. Making Tootsuki, making the Elite Ten, making First Seat…they were all stepping stones and milestones that would eventually lead him to his purpose in life.

But this time, for the very first time, the guiding light that beckoned at the far horizon had winked out abruptly, the ground beneath his feet that he was always so certain of had vanished, and he could not see, and he could not regain his balance. Blind and disoriented, there was no more path to follow. What to do. What to do now?

He was so lost.

They called him knight, but what use was there for a knight with no clear cause to champion, no proper purpose to pledge loyalty to? It had felt like a sharp stab of betrayal, to realize that Azami was wrong, to understand that he himself had only been made used of and deployed about like a pawn in an elaborate game of chess by the man he had so deeply respected and regarded as a close friend and mentor, and it left such a dark, bitter taste in his mouth, because with this undeniable confirmation, all the victories that he had gained on the man’s behalf and had been so proud of now felt pervaded by taint and wrongness.

His confidence was badly shaken. He did not know what to think anymore. And now, there was also disturbing unease and uncertainty roiling turbulently in his heart, because if the ideology he had always supported so staunchly was corrupted, then what should he do now? Should he carry on obstinately even while knowing that his beliefs were riddled with flaws, or should he abandon his ideals, these same ideals that he had known and embraced for as long as he remembered?

Both possibilities pained him equally, for different reasons.

If he abandoned his ideals, did that mean all that effort and passion that he poured into achieving his goals over the years…were they all for nothing? Was he going to have to let go of all that staggering amount of work and sacrifice and start building from ground zero all over again?

The thought was enough to make him flinch.

…But if he stubbornly persisted with what he had now, still insisted on going down this path for the sake of self-preservation, because cooking for the sake of himself was the only thing he had ever known…what would become of him eventually?

There was a vague idea that he had once entertained, when he was still very much in awe and admiration of his mentor, the latter so cynical yet so incredibly worldly and sophisticated. The man had been dazzling and charismatic with his visionary ideals and grandiose philosophies, and there was something intrinsic about him that really appealed to Eishi too, like a nod of recognition from one prodigy to another. They were the same type. It was so comforting to know that there existed someone in this world who was so much like him, who faced the same challenges and frustrations that he faced and it had given him so much hope when it seemed like Azami had actually found a solution to this existential issue that he had been circling round and round and struggling so hard to deal with but to no avail.

So of course he had jumped at the chance to offer his services when his mentor had requested for it. To make a difference, to see to fruition this grand new world that they had always talked about. He wanted so much to make that difference, and was willing to throw himself tirelessly into supporting a resonating cause where his thoughts and inputs and ideas were actually valued and appreciated for their weight and worth, and not just simply because he was a genius and thus automatically commanded respect regardless of what he did and said.

…As if that one simple word was all it took to define everything he entailed, easily glossing over all the complications and challenges that he has had to surmount just to bring life to his masterpieces, the intricate dishes that he had slaved and struggled so hard over to produce.

Towards the end, the term genius had felt more like a grievous insult than praise…and the culinary paradise that Azami had always talked about had sounded more and more like an ultimate utopian dream…

Unfortunately, a dream, ultimately, was just a dream. Something unsustainable.

Eventually, it was time to wake up.

It was very quiet now.

The deafening roar and cheers from the spectators of the Regiment Shokugeki were no more, and the stands were all empty, the humongous competition hall echoing, filled only by the ghosts of past battles. The long steel counters and state-of-the-art, industrial-grade kitchen appliances on the arena were pristine and gleamed silently beneath the powerful stage lights, all the utensils immaculately washed, dried and kept neatly in their places, silently waiting to be used again by fiery cooks who would put everything they had on the line to achieve their dreams, fighting tooth and nail for their prides and ideals.

Somehow…he had become jaded too, it seemed.

Still in his chef uniform, he had aimlessly wandered back out to the hall after all the others had left. He was one of the last ones still here…but he was not alone.

She had wordlessly followed him, keeping him company even when he was hardly in the most sociable mood right now…but then again, she wasn’t making any attempts at conversation, either.

She was just there. Giving him all the space he desired, but an undeniable presence at the edge of his senses all the same, a silent sentinel.

He sighed, lifted his face and looked up, and was promptly blinded by the stage lights.

Blinded by the brightness, how ironic.

But it was true, wasn’t it. The light from high above him was so all-encompassing, he could barely see anything else.  

He closed his eyes, just stood there and let all the stillness and quiet wash over him. It was almost peaceful.

…But then, eventually, the lights started to go out, silently, one row after another, until they were doused in semi-darkness. It was late; the technicians backstage were leaving. He slowly reopened his eyes. He could not help but think it symbolic, a curtain call.

He turned his head to gaze at his quiet shadow. It took a while for his vision to focus, gradually adjusting to the dimness. She was standing at the edge of the stage, hovering by the side entrance. Even as their eyes met and held, she made no move to approach him. Like him, she too was in uniform still.

He wondered what she was thinking.

She had never wanted to be a tool to be used to further Azami’s ambitions, and he also knew how much she quietly disliked the older man. Still, she had joined all the same, for him.

But doing that had changed her a little, too. She was quieter, more restless and fidgety, sometimes a bit distant, as if distracted and lost in thought. And other times, she just watched him, her expression inscrutable…like now.

“Are you still afraid?” he asked quietly, his voice hollow, finally breaking the silence. The rest of the question hung unsaid between them.

Of me?

The question was almost ridiculous. Her, afraid? She had always been fearless.

But even so, after all these years, he would be blind not to correctly read her demeanor…and he was never clueless when it came to her. She was wary. Guarded. Reticent.

He wondered to himself which was worse; for her to learn to fear him, or for her to be utterly disappointed in him.

She slowly started forward, treading almost soundlessly until she was before him. She tilted her head back a bit, looked at him unflinchingly.

“Should I be?” she responded evenly, her gaze holding his, her expression uncharacteristically somber.

He was silent.

“…I’m sorry.”

She huffed, a glossy sheen growing brighter in her eyes, and stumbled closer.

“Stupid; what are you apologizing for,” she muttered. And then she reached over, grabbed her best friend by his scarf, and pulled him into her arms. He was taller so he ended bending over a little to accommodate her forcefulness, but her embrace was firm, unhesitating. And so unreservedly warm.

She held onto him so tightly, as if anxious that he would disappear.

He stiffened, not sure what he was supposed to do.

“I was never afraid of you,” she mumbled after a long pause, her voice cracking.  “I was afraid for you. Stupid.”

Oh. Oh.

His hands clenched with silent relief by his sides. It was awhile before he could convince his fingers to uncurl. He hesitantly reached up…and wrapped his arms gingerly around her. She did not protest his action. All the tension in his entire being leeched away, and without it, he slumped wearily into her, his face turning, buried into her hair, eyes squeezing shut, drained.

There was no one more disappointed in him than himself.

He trembled, shoulders shaking.  

She seemed to understand his grief, even without him having to say a thing. Her hand came up, fingers sliding haphazardly through his hair, blunt nails scratching at his scalp. Blindly, instinctively offering comfort.

He tightened his arms around her, struggling to breathe.

There was nothing else to hold on to anymore.

[ladyborel]

Passing Strange, Settling Sweet

Aymeric had every faith Etien was going to be fine—she’d slain Primals while out of his sight—but now that he was going into battle with her, he was worried about her. He was going to have to see what happened to her, for good or ill.

The whole way through the Vault, he barked out his commands, and she obediently followed, pulling off some deeply impressive maneuvers, only needing his support one. Maybe twice, but she had had it in hand; he just wanted to help her out.

So he had no trouble sending her and Artoirel off to get to the other hostages while he fought for his life.

He just hoped they made it back before his strength ran out.

He couldn’t remember ever having seen Etien in battle, and had no idea what to expect, but he was wholly unprepared if this was what she was always like.

He was busy fighting still, of course, but she was tailing him closely and religiously, guarding him against any rear approaches, so he caught a few glimpses. And what he saw was breathtaking, though equally terrifying.

He’d seen her top lip pulled back in a nervous smile plenty of times in the time they’d known each other, but now it was curled in an outright snarl. Her eyeteeth gleamed, lit by magicks and the faint light around them alike, jaw set and teeth grit, except in a shout or the moment after, when she was too preoccupied to shut it right away.

Arrow after arrow flew, and Aymeric was unsure which were Etien’s and which were the Auditor’s. But in the glow of each Rain of Death loosed from Etien’s bow, she looked more horribly fierce.

Etien, the selfless little woman who came into his office with a gentle, pleasant expression—she was feral.

Aymeric was just glad that expression was leveled in his defense, rather than at him.

If he was completely honest, it shook him. A whole new side of Etien.

But then, it was over, and she settled. He watched her quickly return to the Etien he knew.

They continued up the stairs to the last hostage, and as he consoled and freed them, he heard Etien’s heaving breaths behind him. Before they went anywhere, as Artoirel took the hostage, Aymeric turned to her.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she panted. “Let’s go.” So side by side, they exited the room of the Vault.

Etien had stopped just short of Aymeric’s hand when he threw it out to hold her back, her confusion quickly morphing into rage when she saw the priest.

He tossed a quick glance back at her as he and the priest shouted back and forth. Her lip was curling again and a deep growl seemed to form in her, pupils slitting and ears laying back.

They both ran to the edge of the platform, watching Maelie drop. And both gasped as a shadow passed through the clouds.

Aymeric grabbed Etien’s sleeve to bring her back through the Vault, realizing halfway through that he had a severe height advantage on her, slowing enough that he didn’t trip or drag her, but still moving at a steady clip.

They made it outside to find Maelie clinging to Lucia’s skirts as they both stood before Vidofnir.

They received Hraesvelgr’s words from Vidofnir, and she was gone. When everyone had gone away, and it was just Aymeric and Etien standing on the Hoplon, she leaned against him, sighing hard.

“How are you faring?” she asked.

“I will heal, given time.”

Edmont approached them, and at the mention of Haurchefant, as well as the implication that Edmont viewed Aymeric as something of a son, Etien was fully unsettled. Aymeric heard her breathing shift.

Edmont left, and after a beat, she turned, wrapping her arms around Aymeric and letting out a sob. Then another, until he felt the wracking of her body against him.

“Etien,” he breathed, letting his hand come to rest on the back of her head. He tried to keep his voice soft, so as not to disturb her further.

She lifted her head from his clothing. “That was horrifying.”

“After all you’ve done? I should think a few knights should be nothing of a challenge.”

“Never at the risk of so dear a friend,” she replied. Oh, she was seriously crying, still curled around him.

“Indeed? Not Alphinaud?”

Etien snuffled. “I mean no offense to Alphinaud, but no, not like this.”

Aymeric chuckled, though it wasn’t entirely funny. It was more that he was amused by such an answer, rather than the situation that had provoked it. He scratched behind Etien’s ear absently as he thought.

He was honored she had sought him out for comfort more than once now, and about different things. He wouldn’t deny that. And he wished he was better able to do the same with her. She listened so attentively to everything he had to say, both in conversation and in a battle, and he…

He was so glad she was safe. He ducked and kissed the top of her head.

“All is well, Etien,” he whispered to her. “We had best return to our proper places.”

Nothing was entirely well, he knew that, and he knew she knew that. But they were both safe. They could talk about this—and everything else that was surely on their minds—some other time.

Still, as he released Etien from his grasp, he watched her wilt like a flower in a frost and his heart ached.

No, surely that was all his wounds aching after such hard fighting.

[mostthingskenobi]

CHAPTER 12: THE FALL -- The Dark Side of Obi-Wan Kenobi - Part 2

SUMMARY: Our devilishly handsome Jedi has a devastating realization after his meditation with Yoda... and so begins the fall of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(Sorry for updating in the middle of the night. I have had the day from free-lancer hell, so I wasn't able to get to this sooner.)

After enduring last chapter's horror, you have earned your cruel moment of satisfaction.

It all begins here, folks. I can't even tell you how fun this chapter was to write.

Hope you enjoy!

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

CHAPTER 12: The Fall

Coruscant – Jedi Temple

As Obi-Wan entered his quarters his body buzzed with unfamiliar energy, the Force dancing at his fingertips, awaiting his command. His power, though corybantic, surged around him with a potency he had not felt since before his mission to Mandalore. He furiously paced about the room, trying to wrangle his rising emotions. His eye throbbed terribly and made him feel wild, as though its constant, needling pain would be the final straw that drove him over the edge.

His mind worked in a frenzy, replaying the horrific visions that had appeared in his meditation. He had murdered his master, he had lost his apprentice to the Dark Side, and he had watched Satine die. The memories were cruel, perfectly designed to reveal his deepest fears and show him the worst side of himself

Why? Why had the Council insisted on this? Why had Yoda done this to him? He had tried to warn them, tried to passively resist. They did not understand that pursuing this training regimen would only unleash the darkness within him…

He suddenly froze as a new idea came to him. What if they did understand? What if all along that was exactly what they were trying to do?

Everything became obvious to Obi-Wan in a moment of devastating clarity.

They were trying to break him. The regimen, the discipline, was not designed to control him; it was designed to ruin him. The Council had set him up to fail.

But why? To what end?

He felt betrayed. He had trusted them, placed his life and his connection to the Force in their hands. Now he realized they had led him to the edge of a cliff and were ready to push him over the side.

Isn’t that what Yoda just tried to do? Hadn’t their meditation session pushed Obi-Wan to the mental brink? His final session with the Grand Master had produced some of the most sinister, self-indulgent visions Obi-Wan had ever experienced. He would never have allowed himself to open up to the Dark Side so much if Yoda had not encouraged it. Why had the Grand Master engineered this? Was he trying to force Obi-Wan to crack?

Yoda would never do that to me, Kenobi countered. There has to be a more honorable reason.

Obi-Wan searched his heart, hoping to convince himself that his theory was wrong, but no argument was strong enough to dissuade him. The Council had isolated him, starved him, forced him to relive torture and explore the darkest recesses of his mind. Perhaps their true intention was to force him to confront and defeat the Dark Side that resided in him, but they were sorely misguided if they thought such a simple approach would destroy something so powerful. Whether it was intentional or not, the Jedi Council had led him down a darker path than they realized. They had provoked him, provoked the evil that lived inside him. And now it had grown so big and so powerful that he was no longer certain where he ended and it began.

And while the Council kept him distracted and exhausted, he never had a chance to properly mourn Satine. His feelings for her constantly fluttered inside his stomach, a sickening tempest that he could never quell.

Satine…

The memories suddenly overwhelmed him.

He had loved her so completely.

And she had loved him, more deeply than any other being in the galaxy.

And now all of that was gone, taken from him.

Anger began to build in Obi-Wan, and for the first time in his life he did not try to stop it. He let his fury flow through him, filling him up and making him feel strong.

His fists clenched at his sides and his vision seemed to narrow, darkening around the edges.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was sick of being a pawn used for everyone’s gain but his own. He had been a faithful Jedi and the Council had taken advantage of his loyalty. Now, despite years of service and sacrifice, despite allowing the Council to use him as they pleased without a second thought for his welfare or mental state, once again they were manipulating him for their own purposes.

His fists tightened even more and he felt the Force suddenly erupt from his fingertips. It ricocheted around the room, bouncing off the walls and ceiling before eventually smashing into one of windows. The glass splintered in a bullseye pattern but the large pane did not shatter completely.

The destruction felt highly gratifying. Weeks of repressed rage surfaced and Kenobi finally succumbed to it, freeing himself completely.

In an instant, all rational thought abandoned him. He no longer thought about Satine or the Council, he did not think about Maul or Qui-Gon. Hatred filled him so entirely that he no longer had room in his heart for any emotion but anger.

The Force began erupting from him in every direction, smashing things all around the room. Obi-Wan reached out, pulling the beautiful, sacred energy into his hands. The Force trembled in his steady fingers.

Something in him changed then. He became rabid, like an animal, unable to control his own feelings. He screamed in fury and began destroying everything in sight.

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

Anakin was sitting in the Council chambers with Yoda when he felt a dark ripple surged through the temple. He and the Grand Master locked eyes, each wondering what could have caused the disturbance.

Icy pain suddenly bloomed behind Skywalker’s eyes and for a moment his vision was gone, replaced with a blinding white light. He clutched his head, crying out as he fell off his seat and sprawled across the floor. He felt the Force whipping around him, rushing through his body, through his brain, until the icy sensation grew unbearable.

Obi-Wan was in pain; Anakin could feel it as though it were his own. Something terrible had happened.

With a final nauseating swell the radiating pain receded and his vision returned. Anakin shook his head, trying to regain his composure. He blinked and looked up at Yoda.

The Grand Master sensed the desperation that Kenobi sent across the Force. As he locked eyes with the younger Jedi knight, he instantly knew they shared the same fear. “Go,” he said urgently.

Anakin ran from the room.

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

A small, concerned group had gathered in the corridor outside Obi-Wan’s quarters. Anakin pushed through them, trying to get to the control panel to open the door but he found the durasteel slab was dented and the control panel destroyed. The noise coming from within the apartment was alarming; glass shattering, metal scraping, and other sounds of rage made Anakin halt in his tracks.

He wanted to go in, wanted to help his friend, but something told him that was not the safest option.

“There must be someone in there,” a member of the crowd said. “Master Kenobi must be in danger.”

“We tried to get the door open but it wouldn’t budge,” said another.

Anakin felt certain that Obi-Wan was alone in his rooms. There was no attacker; there was only his master, losing his final grip on reality. His heart gave a lurch as he closed his eyes. He already suspected what he would find but he had to be certain. He reached out to Obi-Wan through the durasteel door, sending a nudge over their Force bond.

The din in Kenobi’s quarters instantly stopped. Anakin could sense his master on the other side of the door, could feel Obi-Wan’s revulsion, but there was no response through their bond.

Skywalker tried again, sending a stronger pulse. Master?

Again, there was no reply. There was nothing at all on the other end of their bond. Obi-Wan was gone.

Anakin clenched his jaw, fighting the heartbreak that suddenly threatened to undo him. Their bond was gone; it must have severed when he was in the Council chamber, when the pain had blinded him. Somehow their connection had been destroyed. Anakin could hardly contain his sense of betrayal.

A sudden chill flooded all of Skywalker’s senses. He could feel his master only feet away, standing on the other side of the dented door. He knew Obi-Wan could tell he was there, and he knew Obi-Wan had just realized their bond no longer existed. The two Jedi could sense each other’s devastation; their connection was broken forever; there was no putting it back.

Anakin could not bring himself to try and open the door. All his instincts told him that Obi-Wan was in need, but he could feel Kenobi’s Force, feel the dark strength that spilled under the door out into the corridor, and Skywalker knew that whoever was on the other side of this barrier might look like Obi-Wan, but it was now an altogether different creature.

He turned to the Jedi standing nearest him. “Go fetch Master Yoda.”

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

The crowd parted as Yoda approached. The change in the Force was clear to the Grand Master the moment he stepped off the lift. Something had gone terribly wrong and now Master Kenobi was in considerable danger.

Anakin’s heartbreak was obvious the moment Yoda saw his face.

“Master,” Skywalker said, bowing his head. “You must help him.”

The ancient Jedi nodded, then turned to the assembly. “Away with you. An audience Master Kenobi does not need.” As the crowd dispersed, Yoda turned to Anakin. “Do not go far. Call on you soon I will.”

With that, the Grand Master turned toward the dented, jammed durasteel panel. He reached out his claw-like hand, and, focusing his energy, crunched the door in half before pushing it aside enough for him to squeeze past.

He stood just inside the entryway and waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. As he took in the details, his heart sank lower and lower. The rooms were completely destroyed. The floor was ripped up and smashed; the furniture was broken into tiny pieces as though it had burst from the inside out; nearly all the windows were blown out or shattered in place; the wall between the living area and the sleeping quarters was crunched in half and part of the ceiling had come down. Yoda moved forward carefully, taking it all in. The destructive power was far worse than he feared. Dark energy thrummed in every corner.

Finally, he spotted Kenobi kneeling in the middle of the living area. His back was to Yoda and he was doubled over, his face buried in his hands. The Grand Master slowly moved around the room until he stood directly in front of the younger Jedi. From what he could see in the darkness, Kenobi’s knuckles were bloodied and battered, presumably from smashing the room with both his fists and the Force.

Yoda was flooded by the emotions swirling around the tormented man. He sensed confusion, self-loathing, hopelessness, and fear. He truly pitied the poor creature before him. “Obi-Wan,” he said quietly.

Kenobi’s shoulders shuddered but he did not raise his head. Yoda realized he was crying.

“Obi-Wan,” he said again, working to keep his voice steady and soothing. He touched the young man’s wrist. “It’s all right.”

Kenobi slowly pulled his hands away from his face, letting them rest in his lap. He kept his eyes shut against the tears that slipped from his lashes.

“All is not lost, young one,” Yoda said gently.

Finally, Obi-Wan lifted his face and opened his wretched eyes.

As their gaze met, Yoda gasped. Even in the dark the Grand Master could see Kenobi’s sickly yellow irises rimmed by red broken blood vessels.

“What’s happening to me?” Obi-Wan sounded desperate.

Yoda was not sure what to say. Kenobi’s burning Sith eyes indicated that he had fallen, but the ancient master sensed that something of the Jedi still remained in the man kneeling before him. The Grand Master suspected that though the Dark Side had claimed Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan had not yet completely given himself over to it.

“In great danger you are,” Yoda finally said.

Obi-Wan bowed his head formally, his voice strained with emotion. “Please,” he whispered, “help me, Master.”

As Yoda had feared all along, he sensed the request came too late. “I will do what I can. But first, you must tell me everything.”

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly before nodding. His heavy eyelids sagged over his sickly eyes. “It is worse than you imagine.”

He looked heartbroken and exhausted, like he had no other options left but to confess everything and hope for the best. Yoda wanted to reach out to him with the Force and wrap him in comfort, but he sensed that would only cause Kenobi pain.

“I fear my mind has been compromised, that a Sith lord has been accessing my thoughts, controlling me somehow.”

Yoda had not expected this. He thought perhaps Kenobi had been giving in to feelings of despair, reveling in the satisfaction it gave him after suffering so greatly while in captivity. He had not considered that Obi-Wan was being used against his will.

“Very unlikely this is, Obi-Wan. A powerful Sith it would require.”

“Yes, I know. And Maul was not strong enough to maintain such a connection. I can’t explain it, Master. I don’t know how it happened, but I fear it is so.”

“Know I do that you stole a forbidden holocron from the Jedi vault, that you have spent hours in the library researching the Sith. Reprimand you I have not because hope I did that your studies would give you focus. Have you discovered anything that might help us?”

Obi-Wan lowered his eyes, not sure how much he should reveal. “The holocron indicated that I may be under the control of a Sith parasite.”

Yoda’s eyes became wide with shock. “Nearly impossible this is to achieve. There has not been a case of Sith possession for thousands of years.”

Obi-Wan had nothing to say. He knew it sounded unlikely, but he also knew what was happening to him was unlike anything he had researched. He found no recent cases similar to his anywhere in the Jedi archives.

After several minutes of deep contemplation Yoda finally said. “If this is true, time is of the essence. Before the Council I would like you to come. Allow us to examine you and develop a course of action that can protect you, the Jedi, and the Republic. Sensitive information you have access to, Obi-Wan. If you have been compromised, you put us all at risk.”

Kenobi hated the idea of standing before the Council and letting them access his thoughts, but he had already tried keeping everything to himself and that had not worked. “I need your help,” he said quietly, “so if that means I must go before then Council, then I will. I’ll do whatever I have to, Master.”

“Help you we will, Obi-Wan,” Yoda said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Alone you are not.” He summoned Anakin, and instructed the young man to stay by Kenobi’s side at all times. “Guard him you must. I will assemble the Council and send for you when the time comes.”

The Grand Master hurried off and left the two Jedi alone in the dark shambles that had once been Obi-Wan’s home.

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NEXT CHAPTER: Anakin learns the truth about Obi-Wan. The two are brought before the Council and Kenobi is forced to submit to the Jedi's scrutiny. Let's just say, things don't go very well.

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READ IT ON AO3 - Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1: Disturbance

READ CHAPTER 2: Waking

READ CHAPTER 3: The Voice

READ CHAPTER 4: The Council’s Lackey

CHAPTER 5: Demons

CHAPTER 6: The Downward Spiral

CHAPTER 7: The Change

CHAPTER 8: Forbidden

CHAPTER 9: The Prophetess

CHAPTER 10: Doubt

CHAPTER 11: The Push

CHAPTER 12: The Fall

CHAPTER 13: The Horrible Truth

CHAPTER 14: The Only Way

CHAPTER 15: Asunder

CHAPTER 16: Master