#the more they pass the more sexist n misogynistic they are

[thir10th]

ciao, bella! - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: you love your polyglot girlfriend TW: smut, oral sex, dirty talk, language kink (i don't actually speak Italian so i apologize for any possible mistakes), hair-pulling, i think that's it A/N: requests are welcome! i still have some drafts to finish first tho. Like and reblog, any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

The hours seem to pass so slowly when there's nothing you can do.

You're sitting on one of those uncomfortable chairs on that bullpen, a cup of coffee running cold on your hand. Staring at te board with all the names and pictures, you were starting to memorize it.

Morgan and Emily enter the room, the main suspect handcuffed and struggling to get away from Morgan's hard grip. Emily takes er bulletproof vest off to enter the interrogation room, you and Hotch following behind. She happened to be the only one who spoke italian on the team, so this one was hers.

You had profiled the unsub as the classical sexist, misogynist, scared of women over 130 pounds, or like you liked to call them- the unresolved mommy issues type.-

Your girlfriend was gonna eat him up alive, and you could not be more proud.

Morgan and Emily enter the room, he tells him to sit down, which he does seem to understand. Hotch and you watch the scene from the other side of the glass, your eyesnever leave Emiy, she carefully reads the file, in complete silence, making him nervous, until she starts speaking.

You certainly weren't expecting it, although you should've. It wasn't the first time you heard her speak other languages. Arabic, Russian, even Spanish, she always sounded so smooth, mysterious even, but there was just something about this exact moment, the way she challenged him, antagonized him, it was easy to tell she had complete control of the conversation despite that you could not understand a single word of what nether of them was saying.

Your braking point is when they start an argument, you cant really tell what it's about but she shoots from her seat, hitting the table hardly with a strong hand, you excuse yourself. You had to get out of there if you wanted to be able to finish the day.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

it takes you less than a second when she closes the door of your shared hotel bedroom behind herself, to wrap your arms around her waist, connecting your mouth to hers, pushing her body against the door.

"wow, not that I'm complaining but, what's got you all riled up?" she asks, a big smile on her face, the second you separate to catch your breath

"nothing... it's just..." you doubtfully say, her eyes scanning you, going from your eyes, to your lips, back to you eyes, both of you heavy breathing into each other.

"c'mon, spit it out" she says, leaving soft pecks on your lips to get you to talk

"just you, your voice" you confess "you know... when-"

"you like hearing me speak Italian?" she finishes for you, grabs you by your waist, and switches places with you, now she's pushing you against the door, running her hands down your back, reaching your ass giving it a gentle squeeze which makes you jump in your place.

"a little bit" you admit. Emily grins, cocky and gorgeous, she slips her hand into your pants and underwear, running two gentle fingertips up your center, collecting your slit, she shows you her hand, a proud smile on her face, you squirm underneath her touch

"this doesn't look like a bit to me" she kisses your cheek, your neck, you bring your lips to hers, your tongue slipping over her lower lip, in the desperate attempt that she’ll grant you access "Questo è quello che volevi?" you cannot control the moan that escapes your lips, her voice is soft, smooth, it makes you feel things, you kiss her again, this time she complies, granting you access.

She pushes you even harder against the door, her free hand finds its way underneath your shirt, you're not wearing a bra which gives her free access, she lets her fingers dance over your sensitive nipples, your breath becoming quicker with each passing second. “Please, Emily, I-” you got cut off as she sharply took one of her nipples into her fingers and twisted it, the pain quickly turning into pleasure

"what's that? or, should i say che dici?" you can't form any coherent words, you just let out a deep breath, grabbing you by the waist, she forces you onto the bed, her hips aggressively sitting on top of yours

"aww, la mia bambina è nervosa perché le piace che parli italiano?" she's loving the teasing, she loves making you nervous but mostly she loves how worked up she's getting you with only a couple of words.

She placed soft kisses all over your breasts, her lips wrap around your nipple, licking the rosy bud, her teeth softly tugging and nipping the sensitive area, you moan in pleasure.

Finally, she moves her mouth down, placing soft kisses all over your stomach, filling it with butterflies. She unbuttons your pants, aggressively taking off your underwear with them.

Even though you had her exactly where you wanted her, she was still too clothed. You pull on her shirt, hoping to get the message across, as your mind was all nice and fuzzy, she just put her hands up, so you could clumsily remove her shirt, leaving her in her bra and workpants.

"Em, please, just please" you cry desperately for her to finally finish what she started. You moan out as she forcefully shoved a finger up your dripping pussy, licking a strap long of your slit.

"ti piace questo tesoro?" you know you're in for a long ride, now that she knows that you like her Italian, she will be taking advantage of it, not that you're complaining, obviously.

"I don't understand a word of this, but it's working" you say, closing your eyes in pleasure,  your hands pulling on her hair, in a desperate attempt to pull her closer to where you needed her the most.

She was going slow just lapping up your juices, her tongue enjoying the taste of you, how drenched you were. Her lips finally met your clit, licking over the bundle of nerves, sucking the hardened bud.

"Oh fuck, yes baby don't stop" She began fucking you faster and harder, using her fingers, loving the wet sounds your pussy was making around them. Her fingers curled at the perfect spot inside you making your eyes roll back into your head. Her mouth sucking on your clit, her fingers drilling roughly into your pussy was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please, Em, I'm going to-"

"andiamo tesoro, puoi venire" you can only assume that's her way of approving, you came all over her mouth, her fingers, she lets you ride your high, and then collapses over you, laying on your side.

You open your eyes and see her laying next to you, playing softly with a strand of your hair, you need to catch your breath before you can return the favour.

"Who would've said that it would only take me speaking Italian to make you this horny ugh?" she asks, a playful grin on her face.

"It's just something about the accent i think, or maybe just the way you sound, i don't know, but you looked so sexy in the interrogation room today" you try to explain

"Well lucky for you, i'm fluent" you move to kiss her lips

"however there's someone else who can also speak Italian, right?" your mouth falls open when you realize what she means "OH! No, Emily! Why did you have to bring Rossi up now? You're ruining it" you close your eyes trying to erase that image from your head, Emily giggles "I'm sorry! C'mon, Scusa, amore mio, ti amo" she kisses you cheek, your lips, your face "Ok that one i know what it means" you hold her face in your hands, trapping her lips between yours, kissing her in return, her voice and herself the only thing on your mind again.

"C'mon baby" you straddle her hips "It's your turn, tesoro"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[lymmsweb]

Hi! I don't know if you're taking requests yet, but I was wondering if you could do headcanons or scenarios about Ghost / Soap / König having a crush on a recruit girl who is a very skilled sniper, but constantly underestimated by other military personnel for being short and deaf / mute

Simon “Ghost” Riley

John “Soap” Mactavish

Words: 537

Tws: misoginy, bullying

A/N: i only did being short and mute because im pretty sure if you’re deaf you can’t serve in the military!! Also i wrote the muteness to at least allow you to talk because it'd be very dangerous to serve in the military and not able to communicate a bit on comms.

Totally didn't take me 4months to come back and i didn't do Konig cuz i dont know enough about his character

Simon “Ghost” Riley

When he first met you he underestimated you too, it wasn’t intentional but he just couldn’t help but doubt you and your abilities.

He took you under his wing to make sure you were keeping up with everyone but after you saved his ass multiple times on missions, all his worries quickly went away and he started respecting you a lot more.

After a couple months he started to get closer and closer to you he started noticing how most of the men wouldn’t take you seriously and often pick on you. It upset him quite a bit knowing he was one of these men at one point, so if he was around and men would pick on you he’d give them a stern lecture and give death glares whenever he’d pass them again in the future

He would always bring you along as back up on missions, you were one of the best snipers he could get his hands on and he felt safer knowing you were watching his back. He even grew to enjoy your company, not minding the silence he would always be met with, if anything he found it much more relaxing than anything.

Ghost started noticing that he liked you after he defended you from a man that was saying misogynistic things towards you, he hated the way you looked after receiving the insults and not being able to defend yourself. He didn’t know why he felt the urge to protect you, it was like love was a new emotion being discovered after years of not feeling in love with someone.

John "Soap" MacTavish

He was one of the few men that were nice to you right off the bat. After missions he would always go to find you and give tips on how to improve and what you did wrong.

You grew on him very quickly, often being paired up with him meant that he had all the opportunities to hit you with his corny jokes and you not being able to do much about it.

He would accidentally slip up some jokes about you and your size when drunk, not really caring about how loud he was at the bar. It earned laughs from his men, it felt good at first but when they started slipping sexist comments it sobered him right up.

After the bar incident, he started picking up on how your comrades viewed you. He started to feel disgusted about how they didn't respect you or your strengths or you achievement, in his eyes he started to lose respect towards them.

He started to talk about you to everyone, mentioning how great you are and how people should give you a chance. This started to rub off on people as more and more men started to at the very least stop picking on you.

It was after a couple weeks of a non stop cycle of improving your social status and you saving his life on multiple missions that he finally realized he was crushing on you. However now this meant that he started acting like a lost puppy around you, always by your side one way or another. Someone would have to be blind to not notice his growing crush.

[vanilleandclove]

rings of fire | analysis

i am putting near my all into this series because 1. i love visenya, she is so misunderstood and 2. doomed by narrative both romantic and familial ties do something to my angsty soul. princess y/n targaryen, you will always be famous to me. most of this is for you to understand more-so where the characters in this universe come from (near headcanons), i do love analyzing. here is a small analysis of rhaenyra and y/n's relationship as well as an introduction of erryk and y/n's,

"rhaenyra will be the daughter of westeros, as y/n will be the daughter of the dragons".

half return - adrianne lenker.

though the realm tends to nitpick at rhaenyra's and y/n's relationship as they expect y/n to be jealous of her sister, it does not impact their relationship for two reasons: 1. y/n may be the younger twin, but she protects her sister as if she were to be years her senior, 2. throughout the realm, men are sexist and misogynistic to girls, a sibling rivalry will not solve ones hierarchy.

when rhaenyra and y/n were younger, they'd often clash in the ideals of who got their parents attention, as viserys gave rhaenyra minutes of his time, he gave y/n seconds. this led to y/n being surrounded more by aemma, similar to that of maegor and visenya. this is also reminiscent of their dragons, as balerion was ridden by maegor- a bigger dragon than that of aenys's quicksilver who was the quarter of the size, and syrax is smaller than nymeria.

by the time of their 10th name day, y/n was fluent in high valyrian, though viserys was not impressed, but impressed with rhaenyra's progress into the language. y/n frequently restrained herself from being jealous of her sister seeing that her sister could not control how their father chose to father them. then of course, viserys's comment on comparing y/n to maegor as the entire realm distastefully uses his name as an insult, when the girls were much older.

"a kingsguard is no fit for a husband better yet, a princess".

the only exception - paramore.

ser erryk is knighted into the kingsguard with his twin, ser arryk. y/n was there as otto chose the twins to fill vacant spots of the guard, she was often present when it came to the concerns of the kingsguard, to which people whispered was akin to visenya. viserys's repeatedly attempted to get y/n out of combat affairs due to the maintenance of image, he did not want rumors to be further spread.

before the series begins, y/n and erryk have extremely brief conversations in passing, but enough for her to notice her intrigue in the knight. arryk was also starting to notice the affections that arose in his brother.

these two, well four if you want to include harwin and rhaenyra, are doomed by narrative and circumstance. though, when the affair begins, y/n is unaware of harwin and her sister, until she catches them. this is where the sibling rivalry almost begins seeing that she envies the fact that her sister can marry and then fulfill the duties to sire heirs with a different man, but it was rather because, harwin is not bound by oath- being lord commander of the city watch is a different ball game than a kingsguard, he did not hold a vow of chastity and abstinence. but erryk however did, though an oathbreaker, it hurt y/n greatly in the fact that there is always something standing in the way.

erryk sees a woman in her, not a princess, or a dragonrider. he sees the woman who is outspoken but overlooked in court. he sees the wielder of blackfyre and how gentle she is. he sees the woman who snorts when she is laughing intensely, he sees a woman the royal court cannot see. truth be told, he sees his past, present, and future with her.

taglist: @wolvestitches @callsignwidow

[nightfallsolace]

Our Little Secret// Hanma Shuji x Reader

in which (Y/n) Ryuguji Draken’s little sister, has a hidden affair with one of their enemies, Hanma Shuji.

Hanma had never been a rational man. He never really had someone worth chasing for, yes he had Kisaki as a source of entertainment, for now that is. he knew someday he wouldn't be able to cater the ever longing shot adrenaline he always so dearly craves.  To him the adrenaline whenever he does something exciting, something thrilling is like a drug to him, it just keeps him coming back for more. He never thought he would find someone so damned interesting, that would keep him chasing for years.

It all started on that one encounter at the back of one of the convince stores he always visits, the cashier was nice and it was run by a nice lady who was in her 50′s. It was just the usual routine fighting, buying cigarettes, hanging out with Kisaki, etc etc. Well it would be if his “peaceful” time at the back of the convince store wasn’t interrupted by the sound of pained groans. He followed the origin of the sound to find a bunch of men being beaten up by a woman around her 14′s or 15′s, he didn't know, and frankly he didn't care, but his instincts told him to stay, to watch.

“PLEASE- I’M SORRY-- ENOUGH--- PLEASE---” the man beneath the woman's heel pleaded between the kicks his poor face was receiving “hmm?~” the woman hummed, “let me think about it~” the woman stopped her assaults to “think” about the man’s request and replied “No ♡ “ she said as she continued to give a hard kick to the man’s face until the blunt force passed him out. The man watching grinned and watched the woman drag the men in a messy pile that you could relate to when your throwing your clothes in a pile, except with battered and bruised people. She wiped her face with a clean handkerchief and continued to use it to clean her bloodied shoes and sat down on the floor with a heavy sigh “how the hell am I supposed to explain to ken-chin? it’s already so late” the woman faked sobbed “ huhuuu” she stood up angrily and kicked the unconscious men on the ground “stupid” kick “misogynistic” kick “sexist” kick “ASSHOLE” she landed a hard blow right on one of the man’s nose which caused him to wheeze “godamnit”. She once again wiped her shoes and turned to leave before halting in her tracks in horror to see a man watching her smiling.

she screamed in horror “I’m so sorry you had to see that” she apologized bowing low “why are you apologizing doll? that was a good kick by the way” he laughed “keep you head up high doll no need to apologize” the woman sighed relived “thank you! I thought I needed to get my shoes dirty again! I just cleaned them! “ she smiled happily “ normally people would be freaked out, men would call me a freak or what I was doing was unladylike like, so my shoes would get dirty again! but women just usually run away in fear, but you mister! you even complimented my kick! and that’s a first!” she cheerily voiced out, the man laughed at her childish behavior, “this woman, is something else” he thought and chuckled. “I’m (y/n) by the way! (y/n) Ryuguji! and your name is?” his eyes widened “Ryuguji? Is she related to Draken?” he smiled and gave her his name “Hanma, Hanma Shuji”. The woman smiled “Well it’s nice to meet you Hanma-san, i need to go now, my brother must be looking for me, it’s pretty late so i hope its ok” he laughed at how polite she was despite the fact she just crushed some guy’s nose earlier. “no worries doll no need to ask me, I’m a guy you just met, you can go” she smiled happily and bid her goodbye. “Bye Hanma-san! I hope to see you again sometime soon!” he laughed “yeah you to doll keep safe” “What an interesting girl” He said as he light up a cigarette and walked towards the pile of unconscious bodies, kicking it before taking his leave.

-Chapter 1 of Our Little Secret

  Reblogs are appreciated!!

[mlem2460]

marvel au: good cop thor n bad cop loki

everythin basically same set up, but all opinions on loki n thor dynamic? public speculation. jealous loki, prideful thor, n sibling rivalry turned tragedy? rumors started by asgardian equivalent of gossip columns. people talk bout em like they the kardashians. sif n the warriors three major attitudes? palace servants takin lil things way outta proportion.

thor uses his naturally sunshine puppy look n personality to gauge peoples intentions, surprisingly good for intel gathering. no major change, hes still a jock, just one with a golden heart n sum tricks picked up fr his mastermind lil bro. strong leader, relies on each friends specialty n makes final calls. believes in fairness n honor.

lokis the group strategist; first to suggest takin advantage of public opinion to their favor. he respects older bro cause thor values his insight. hybrid wine aunt n mom friend. will fret if u arent eating well, will also laugh n help u avoid consequences for starting an international incident while everything burns around em. self sacrificing, gets on frens nerves.

sif cast as hypocritical misogynist that hates loki as her opposite, when really they r thick as thieves n casually overturn the patriarchy after brunch. self care w loki after beating sexist pig appointment at twelve. regular appointments to salon loki to touch up her roots n bitch bout judgmental cis hets. is blunt brute force, straightforward attitude often misinterpreted. not close to many, but love fiercely those she comes to care for. shes here to kick ass n laugh w her frens while doin it, get out her way.

fandral seen as quippy air-headed man whore, actually soft boy guarding himself w sarcasm but falls in love way too easily n consequently gets his heart broken on the regular. sif once told him to cry her a river. now he randomly crashes their patriarchy pummeling brunches to bitch bout his latest 'true love.' it vexes sif, but she wont tell him to stop cause she needs to kno how these unworthy pieces of crap treated her shield bro; overprotective but wont admit it. loki thinks its hilarious n asks fandral questions that fire him back up every time he starts to calm down. when necessary, fandrals a master actor who can play any part n blend in anywhere. well traveled n smooth talkin, very diplomatic.

they say hogun is grim cause of his mean right hook n grunts that often act as dialogue with few words sprinkled in. quick, forceful, n sever r words strangers use to describe him. n theyre accurate... for his fighting style. personality wise? poor baby has social anxiety n neurodivergent enough to have trouble making eye contact. hes not dismissing u, he just cant get the words out. hes not lookin down on u or aloof, hes focusin on what ur sayin its just hard for him to make eye contact. once he feels comfortable w u, he still doesnt talk that much, but more cause he dont kno how to not be straightforward n prefers to use physical touch or wordless sounds to communicate. actually, his frens understand his 'language' more when he isnt straining to use words. hogun expresses himself a million different ways; walk, volume, facial expression, stims, humming, etc. but in front of strangers? blank slate. no thoughts, head empty, panic mode on. frens presence soothes enough for a few words but no more than that right now.

volstagg is deemed irresponsible glutton ready to laugh at a joke hes unaware was made at his expense. honestly he... doesnt kno how he got here. he married the best cook in asgard that he loves even more than her signature pies! they have quite a few little ones running around as proof of that. so howd he end up here? after hed given up his job on the battlefield to watch the babies while supporting his wife pursuing her culinary passion, how the heck did he end up in an actual fren group that wasnt his kids friends moms. maybe when his bold lil girl managed to get a magic lesson fr a prince to pass her upcoming test? or when thor showed his son a new sword technique that hes never even before? no, the moment he recognized that his princes, futre of the realm, treasures of asguard, masters of their fields, were the smartest dumbest people in all the nine. u kno those best frens that r smart individuals, but once they get together do sum of the dumbest shit uve ever seen? thor n loki everyone. n how was a jolly house spouse that commands a small fleet of children supposed to look at these reckless troublemakers n not half adopt them?? his childen gains uncles n auntie while his wife kicks out the house every once in a while to 'go have fun w ur frens.' dad fren, scolds n frets n compliments. is always right n is too nice to say so but everyone knos anyway. prob most mentally stable one of the fren group, resident therapist/advisor. lives in the silver lining n laughs a jokes made by strangers bout him cause he thinks it hilarious how wrong n ignorant they r. wont n dont got to explain jack to nobody bout anythin, so he mind his business n loves life.

heimdall is constantly exasperated but doesnt get paid enough fo dis

[ptergwen]

Could you do peter and the reader high being all giggly and touch at a bonfire party

i know but this just fits the vision perfectly

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 520

warnings: explicit language, drug use, making out

a/n: oh absolutely peter being high is a concept we need more of! also sorry for the mini spam i just got back in the writing mood lfmhjdj enjoy besties

“just one hit.”

“really? just one? c’mon, peter. you can do better than that.”

you and peter are at a bonfire at the beach with friends. you sit facing each other in the sand, a lit joint between your fingers. you’re sharing it with peter, and you’ve already taken a few drags off of it. it’s his turn.

“don’t make me get high alone.”

you offer your boyfriend the joint, lips curling into a smirk.

“don’t be a pussy.”

“don’t use pussy like that. it’s sexist, and misogynistic, and- never mind, you don’t need a lecture on misogyny from me. gimme that.”

you grin and pass him the joint. he brings it to his lips and inhales, holding the smoke in his mouth for an impressive amount of time before blowing it out. he repeats the process once more, then gives the joint back to you.

“happy?”

“very.”

you take a final hit for good measure. you jam the joint into the sand to put it out and grab peter’s hand.

“let’s dance.”

you lead him to the fire, where some of your friends are gathered. music is playing, and a couple people sway to it. the two of you join in.

after a while of dancing together, your highs kick in. you stand on peter’s feet and hold his hands for support. you’re barefoot, and he’s in a pair of beat up sneakers. he walks around the beach with you balancing on his feet. you cackle amongst yourselves, occasionally bumping into friends, which makes you laugh even harder.

peter starts walking backwards and trips, sending you both tumbling into the sand. he breaks your fall. you both look at each other and burst into laughter.

“oopsies. i stepped on a rock.”

“nice going, penis parker.”

you sit up and straddle peter’s waist. peter giggles, hands coming to your hips.

“is it just me or can you, like, not feel anything? when i’m high, i literally feel nothing.”

“sounds nice.”

“it is nice. i love being high.”

“i love you being high. it’s the only time you aren’t all uptight and shit.”

“hey.”

peter pokes at your hips with a pout.

“i mean it as a good thing. ‘cause you get a break, you know?”

“sure, sure. mhm.”

peter pushes your dress up, bunching it at your thighs. he squints up at you, a dopey smile spreading across his features. the light from the fire illuminates you in the darkness. he just stares at you for a moment, fingers dipping under your dress to draw patterns on your skin.

“you’re so pretty. my pretty baby.”

you giggle in response. you listen to the waves crashing into each other and onto the shore, let the cool breeze wash over you. your hands cup either of peter’s cheeks. you make your way up his body so your faces are in line.

“tell me if you feel this.”

your lips catch peter’s. he parts his lips as he kisses back, guiding your body flush against his. he whines when your teeth tug on his bottom lip, head tilting up to deepen the kiss.

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @ellebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx @parkerdadda @valluvsu @ronweasleysslut @peterficrecs @Winchestersgirl222 @sunf1ower-vol6 @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @niktwazny303 @marvelgurl @thismessymasterpiece @alina02​ @sapphic_romanoff @It'sJaneDeLuca @lomlbuckyy @idkeverythingistakennn

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 17

Hannibal teaches y/n a useful skill.

@dovahdokren @lov3vivian @deadman-inc-bikeshop

Trigger warnings: use of firearms, discussion of firearms, violence

“So where are we off to next?” You asked, following Will around the office. “Are we questioning this Rachel woman, or are we going straight to the church?” 

Will sighed. “Jack and I are going to the church. I’m calling Hannibal to come pick you up.”

“What?” You spat in utter disbelief. “What the hell happened to taking him down together?” 

“You’ve already been more help than we could ask for.” Will explained. “This is the end of the line for you. We--”

He cleared his throat and looked down. “I can’t bear to see you get hurt.” 

“That’s sweet and everything, but,” You folded your arms. “You really think someone is going to hurt me in broad daylight in a megachurch?” 

“Well, somebody stabbed you in broad daylight in a restaurant, and that person just happened to come from this megachurch.” Will rationalized. “So, yes. I wouldn’t say it’s out of the question.” 

“So that’s it, you’re just going to pass me off to Hannibal?” You threw up your arms. “Look, I had enough of this growing up with divorced parents.” 

“Angel,” Will soothed, running a gentle hand down your arm. “Please. I’m begging you, think on this for just a minute and try to see why I don’t want you on this particular excursion?” 

You thought on it for a minute. “Churches do kind of trigger me.”

“I saw how tense you got when that woman said she’d kicked her daughter out of the house for dating a girl. I understand, dealing with people who remind you of Chase is going to trigger you.” Will whispered. “Have you even taken any time to work on healing?” 

“I could say the same to you.” You disputed. “You killed a woman and then came face-to-face with her mother. Why aren’t you trying to work through that?” 

“That’s different.” He blurted out. “That’s my job.” 

“Sure.” You snipped. “I have to take time to work through my PTSD, but you don’t. Got it.” 

“If you go home with Hannibal now, I promise I will...” He hesitated to finish the sentence. “I’ll work on my issues too. Cross my heart.” 

“Oh, I will absolutely hold you to that.” You pointed at him. “And I’m telling Hannibal you said that.” 

Will immediately regretted making that promise and it was obvious from his expression. “Please don’t.” 

“I am absolutely going to do that.” You said, in a way in which he couldn’t tell if you were kidding or not. 

Hannibal opened the passenger’s door for you and greeted you with a kiss. He could tell you were feeling off after only a few seconds. 

“Why so sad, my indulgence?” He asked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Don’t tell me you enjoy Will’s company more than mine?” 

“What? No.” You shook your head. “No way.” 

“You can tell me what’s on your mind, love.” He assured you. 

You sighed and rested your head on the window. “Will doesn’t want me to help on the investigation anymore.” 

“I don’t see why he should.” Hannibal agreed. “You’re tracking down the man who tried to kill you, and he’s tracking down the man who tried to kill his lover. Both of you are far too close to the situation and your mental health will suffer for it. But, in the end, it’s Will’s job.” 

“I know.” You conceded. 

“That, and,” Hannibal continued. “Will is a trained professional under the supervision of other trained professionals. He’s far less likely to get hurt.” 

“I get it.” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “At the end of the day, he’s the action hero and I’m the damsel in distress.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal scolded. “You know our situation isn’t so black-and-white. You know the investigation couldn’t have worked without you.” 

“I know.” You pouted. “I just wanted the final blow, y’know? I think I deserve to finish the job.” 

Hannibal went quiet for a moment. When you came to a stoplight, he turned his gaze to you. “You want to be more proactive in your safety.” 

“Would be nice.” You shrugged. 

“I wasn’t asking.” Hannibal corrected. “You do want to be more proactive. It’s why you have a firearms license in your wallet and a handgun in your car. It’s also why you were looking up hunting equipment last night while you were on the phone with Freddie Lounds.” 

You swallowed. Every word in the English language escaped you. He was right. You never saw the appeal of guns until you lived alone. Even though a "gun owner" was technically what you were, you didn't want to associate yourself with the jingoistic, hyper-masculine culture affixed to the term. You were just a woman who kept a gun in her car and had all the proper licensing and registration for it. Nothing wrong with that. So why did it have you feeling so defensive? 

You lowered your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“For?” 

“Lying about Freddie Lounds.” You finished. “I don’t know why I felt the need to lie about that, in hindsight-” 

“I understand.” Hannibal cut you off. “You were just doing what you felt needed to be done. Will would have done the same.” 

He was right again. 

“Ambitious of you to select a shotgun as your weapon of choice.” Hannibal observed. “At the risk of sounding like a chauvinist, I have to ask. Do you know how to use one?” 

“No.” You admitted. “It was just a power fantasy, I guess. All I know is that you can blast a guy’s head off with one.” 

Without a word, Hannibal took an abrupt turn. 

“Isn’t your place that way?” You asked, pointing in the opposite direction. 

“Do you have your license on you now?” He asked. 

“Of course I do, why?”

“Because we’re going to make your power fantasy a reality.” He answered.

Soon enough, you pulled up to a large hunting store with a shooting range attached. 

“Go in and pick out something you like.” Hannibal instructed, reaching for his wallet. “I’ll be waiting for you at the range and I can teach you how to use it.” 

He offered you one of his shiny metal credit cards. When you didn’t immediately take it, he pushed it closer to you. 

“I just got a thousand dollars from Freddie Lounds.” You pushed his hand away. “I can pay for it.” 

“You deserve something much nicer than only a thousand dollars can buy you.” Hannibal’s voice hardened. 

“So then I’ll buy something more than a thousand dollars and use your credit card to make up the difference.” You offered. 

“No.” Hannibal said, sternly. “I will buy you a nice gun and plenty of ammo, and you will save your thousand dollars for when you open your own restaurant.” 

“How did you-” You objected. 

He cut you off. “Will isn’t very good at keeping secrets, dear. Take it.” 

You laughed uncomfortably. “Hannibal, if you don’t put that credit card away I will bite your finger off.” 

His thin lips curled into a cunning smile. He offered you his other hand. “Bite away, darling.”  

You wordlessly snatched the card from his hand. 

“Oh, pity.” Hannibal feigned disappointment. “Did I call your bluff?” 

You tucked the card away in your pocket. You leaned in as if you were going to give him a kiss on the cheek, but playfully nipped at his earlobe. 

"Remind me to give you a little special attention when the lesson is up." He whispered, his hand clutching your arm.

You made sure to walk away slowly, rolling your hips with every step.

You entered the store, feeling overwhelmed and significantly less confident than you did while shopping for guns online.

An employee approached you. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever sexist comment he was about to hurl at you. But somebody must have taught this particular associate that being a misogynist prick doesn't sell guns.

"Anything I can help you find, ma'am?"

Your mouth ran before your brain. "I'd like to buy a gun, please."

"Well, you've come to the right place." The employee smiled. "What kind of gun are you looking for?"

"A shotgun." You corrected.

"Well, we have plenty of makes and models to choose from." He clapped his hands together and led you to a wall lined with shotguns. "Any specifics in mind?"

"I guess I just want something simple enough to use." You scratched the back of your head. "My boyfriend is taking me skeet shooting this weekend so I don't have time to learn all the complicated mechanics."

"So skeet?" The man put his hands down on the counter and looked deep in thought. He turned around and pulled one off the shelf. "I'd recommend this CZ over-under. It's a good place to start."

He offered it to you. Your eyes widened and your first instinct was to refuse.

He looked at you with confusion. "How are you gonna shoot anything if you don't hold it?"

You shook off your nerves and took the gun in your hands. It was a little heavy, and tilted near the stock. You looked at it as if it were a beautiful but deadly venomous tropical snake.

"Over-under's are the working man's shotgun." The employee said. "Or, woman, as it were."

You held it up to your shoulder like you saw in movies and felt a strange rush of exhilaration pulsing through your body.

"It's nice, right?" He asked. "And you can get to the trigger okay?"

"I'll take it." You said. "And some bullets, please."

"Now we're cooking with gas." He answered, a big smile on his face. "Let's get you rung up."

The fact that he didn't even stop to notice that the name on your license didn't match the name on the credit card only emphasized your country's need for stricter gun control laws. Even if the lack of such laws benefitted you in that moment, the ease of the process killed you a little.

The total came up to just under a thousand dollars. You couldn't bring yourself to spend more than you planned to, even if it was Hannibal's treat. You already felt weird about using Hannibal's money, let alone so much of it.

The employee saw you out with a friendly "happy skeeting" and you set off to meet Hannibal at the range.

"There you are, love." He greeted you. He had removed his suit coat and tie, and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows.

For a split second, you completely forgot about the gun and were overtaken by the need to fuck him. You quickly regained control of yourself. "Yeah. I found something."

"I should hope so." He said, beckoning to you from the stall. "Come now. Let me show you what to do."

You stood in front of the booth, ears and eyes protected. At the end of the long booth was a paper target. Hannibal positioned himself behind you. He took your hand in his and guided it to the stock wrist.

"Wrap your fingers around here, like this." He instructed, his dark, accented voice shaking you to your core. "Now extend your finger to reach the trigger. Yes, that's it."

"Now place your other hand on the fore-end and hold the end of the stock against your shoulder."

The way he shaped your body, positioned your limbs felt almost alarmingly natural. He wasn't just indulging your power fantasy, he was directing it.

"Cheek against the stock, love." He instructed. "The gun is an extention of you. You must hold it firmly and give it support. You move with it, it moves with you."

He rummaged through the shopping bag and pulled out a package of shells. "Are you ready to shoot it, darling?"

"I think I should probably load it first." You said, nervously.

"Well that should take us no time at all." Hannibal approached with two 12 gauge shotshells. "Go ahead and engage the break lever right at the edge of the barrel."

When the gun suddenly bent in half, your first thought was that you'd broken it. Hannibal handed you the two shells and watched you timidly slide one into each barrel.

You felt yourself shaking and your palms were damp with sweat. You swallowed. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Were you afraid the first time you drove a car?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

"Cripplingly." You nodded. "I was so scared I didn't take my foot off the brake the whole time."

"But now driving comes just as naturally to you as walking." Hannibal smiled comfortingly. He placed his hands over yours and returned you to the shooting position. On one side, the cold stock rested against your cheekbone. On the other, Hannibal's hot breath grazed against your skin. "It just takes some getting used to."

Your finger squeezed the trigger and the massive projectile exploded from the gun. The stock pushed back into your shoulder, making you stumble backwards into Hannibal.

"Holy shit!" You exclaimed. "That's got some serious recoil. Is it supposed to do that?"

Hannibal chuckled and took a step back, giving you a little space. "Yes, darling. Now go ahead and fire off the next shot."

Your eyes widened. "Okay."

"Remember, you move with the gun, you don't fight the gun." He instructed. "It's more afraid of you than you are of it."

You squeezed the trigger again, this time fully expecting the recoil. The shot fired, and this time it hit the target.

You hopped in delight. "Holy shit I actually got one!"

"All it takes is a little getting used to." Hannibal stroked your hair. "Now unload the shotgun shells and let's go again."

[selfships-in-spanish]

The Queen of Demons 5/?

Pairing: Erwin Smith x OC, Levi Ackerman x OC

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

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

Word Count: 13.538

ALSO POSTED ON AO3

A/N: Jesus Christ this month has destroyed me. A lot is going on, I had 0 time to write and I managed to do a bit when I had 5 minutes to sit my ass down. At least Patreon is working good enough!

But the plot thickens! 👀 There are a lot of "AHHH THEY TOUCHED" moments that had me screaming, and I'm so sorry for putting Eva through all this... but it will be worth it in the end! C'mon girl, you will get through it 💪

CHAPTER 5: OLD FOREST OF THE ANCIENT GODS

There was not a cloud in sight, an unwavering blue sky greeting them as they passed through the village’s main gates. Although pale, the sun shone bright, even if it did not warm as it should.

Still, Eva did not feel the cold.

How could she? Even through her winter cloak and thick winter dress, Eva could feel the warmth the Chief irradiated. Like a well fed furnace. Constant. Blazing. Comforting…

No, no, no. She could not be thinking about that. Where did her proper manners go? She tried to maintain as much distance between their bodies as possible, not believing how they were… touching, something completely unthinkable back home. In Gottesreich it wouldn’t be until their wedding day where they could leisurely hold hands and become more intimate. But in Eldia? Not even a day and she was riding on the same horse! Astride!

Her riding teacher would be spitting fire at the sight, like those dragons from her books and legends.

But the Princess’s efforts to put some distance were in vain. The horse’s movement and stony path made Eva often fall back into the Chieftain’s chest, much to her dismay. Feeling the Chief’s shoulders slightly shake in amusement, at least trying to conceal it and not make Eva more self-conscious than she was, at her gasps when their bodies collided, made her even more vexed than she already was.

Her behaviour was being so improper! And he wasn’t helping.

The Princess tried to keep her mind out of this inconvenient situation by looking at the beautiful scenery in front of her. Yesterday she found it worthy of a painting done by the best court artists, even if she marvelled at it from inside her carriage and the caged view it provided, but now that she had the entire sight for her eyes to feast on? Breathtaking.

The pure white from the snow looked like an immaculate mantle, as if the softest of silks were draped over the entire expanse of land that it touched. The faraway mountains, covered in snow also, reminded her of those sweets from back home the cooks baked for her, the tops powdered with sugar. Eva spotted smoke coming out of the scattered farm houses chimneys, getting lost in the sky, and for a moment wished she could be there, enjoying the warmth of a fire.

Beautiful, calm, serene, elegant. That’s what this view told her. Blissful peacefulness.

It was contagious, and the stillness of the fallen snow lulled Eva into a sense of tranquillity. The Princess came to the conclusion that it was better and easier to accept that she will have to endure an entire ride on the Chief’s stallion mercy. Closeness included.

They kept a relaxed pace, not rushing the animals and being careful of the frozen puddles on the road. Back in Gottesreich, Flora would already have started to hum a song as they watched the scenery from inside their carriage, Eva eventually joining her and following the rhythm with their tapping feet. Eva caught herself just in time before she let out the first note, too enraptured with her own thoughts and memories and the rocking of the horse too, to notice how she was taking a deep chilly breath.

The Chief noticed the change of her posture, going rigid again, and the huge exhale of air she let out, trying in vain to conceal it. The eldian warrior misinterpreted it as the Princess getting bored out of her mind, and frowned, thinking about ways to entertain her. What could he do? He’d love to ask about a million topics, if they shared the same language; Erwin had always possessed a curious and inquisitive mind, and vividly remembers having his big nose buried in one of his father’s books. He still does, when he is able. But speaking leisurely with the Princess would come… he hoped. Preparations had already begun for it. But what else could he— ah! That might work.

Eva was startled by the Chief’s gentle tapping of his fingers on her arm, discreetly asking for her attention. The Princess saw the Chief’s massive arm cover her right side view, following his outstretched arm to where his finger was pointing at. Eva willfully avoided the thought of how their bodies were practically glued together, feeling his rumbling chest as he purred out some eldian words in her ear— at least for Eva, he was purring out words in the shell of her ear, low enough for only them to hear it, just shy of a murmur. His voice had no right to sound that way, this close. Is this what awaited her, every day, for the rest of her life?

The Chief watched the tips of her ears reddening up further, knowing it was not the cold this time. Woops. He had to remind himself of how different their body languages were in their own respective cultures.

But Eva did look to where the Eldian Chief was pointing over, scrunching slightly her eyes and— oh!

“Cows!”

A smile found her lips upon seeing the gentle animals strolling around. Eva noticed how they were a different breed from what she was used to, just like the horses. Eva knew all the gottesreichan breeds, as she had been taught in her lessons, and had never seen the Eldian breed before even though she had read about it. They were absolutely adorable with the long coat of fur over their bodies, even when the long hairs covered their eyes, a beautiful mirage of black and honey brown over the snow. It still amazed the Princess how that breed of cows had such big horns.

Eva couldn’t tear her gaze away from them, transfixed. She did not notice the Chief discreetly looking at her, pleased he managed to communicate without words and show her something. He also found her smile beautiful— her brothers weren’t lying. Erwin’s eyes also found themselves with the expanse of her neck at his viewing pleasure, unguarded, soft, long, little hairs falling out of the perfect up braid and bun… it looked kissable.

No! No. Erwin, no.

All this had a meaning. A purpose. They had a plan and Erwin would carry it to perfection. No distractions allowed. Erwin made a promise to her brothers, had a deal, and whatever stray thoughts a lonely man had, would stay sealed deep inside.

Maybe if things had been different… If they had met in another way.

The Chief teared his eyes away, looking straight ahead with intent. Eva kept looking at the beautiful cows, wishing she could pet them and stop time for a moment.

It wasn’t too long until they reached the forest’s entrance, leaving behind the few scattered houses and their fields and cattle. Two massive obelisks, made of old and robust wood, marked the entrance. They had the same carved markings, or at least quite similar, as the ones from back in the village’s houses and Great Hall. The obelisks looked like they were put there a long, long time ago, judging by the rugged and chipped wood, the paint having washed and fallen off, only a few remains visible still, an ashen tone around the grooves and the moss covering them all over. They truly looked ancient.

The Chief led them through the obelisks, entering the forest. The path was wide enough that two horses could ride next to the other with more than enough space, even three in a more narrow fit, but the Chief rode first and alone, with everyone else following behind. The forest was quiet besides the sounds of birds and the horse’s hooves thudding on the snow, as well as the wooden cart creaking its way into the woods. Everything was covered in thick layers of snow, even the bushes from where the trees allowed the sky to show. The path was marked with short wooden stakes spread out unevenly along its sides, as if they had been an afterthought, deeply embedded into the ground. Some fell, others remained askew and bent or broken from nature itself.

They kept venturing further into the forest’s path, carefully avoiding fallen branches. Eva marvelled at the frondosity of the forest, as well as the massive sizes some trees had. The deeper they went, the bigger the trees grew in size and girth, as if nobody dared to disturb them for centuries. This was an old forest, for sure. Everything about it screamed ancient, that it had seen the rise and fall of many kingdoms. The thought of it made Eva feel as if she only was a small, brief being on this earth. A blink.

For a moment, still reflecting these feelings, Eva thought about how stupid wars were, when humans just had such a short period of time to be alive. Shouldn't everyone be spending it by being happy? Rejoicing in life itself? Eva shivered, feeling tiny. Useless.

That’s when the Chief surprised her once again, feeling the hood of her winter cloak lift itself from her shoulders and be carefully set on her head, mindful of her braids and flowers. Then, he pulled his own open eldian cloak around them both, successfully sheltering the Princess.

Eva wanted to scream.

Instead, a gasp escaped her mouth.

This was scandalous! Eva found herself at the total mercy of the Chief’s whims and she was not happy about it, no escape, no way to put distance. Did he want a feel of what awaited him, behind closed doors once they were married? Was this a way to intimidate her? Show her how powerless, useless she was in his hands? The Princess wanted to bolt right out of the warm cocoon, as she reluctantly had to admit, she found herself in.

Don’t cause a scene, like a vulgar wench.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind.

Are you a vulgar wench?

Cold eyes.

I didn’t think so. You are a princess, vulgarity is out of the question for someone like you.

Lips pulled down in a grimace.

Don’t bring a crude, disgusting attitude into this sacred Kingdom.

Nose flaring.

I will give you a reason to cr–

Eva cried for the entire day.

Deep breaths. That’s what she needed to do when she felt her chest squeeze itself in. Deep breaths. Think of your surroundings, what was there to see? Focus on it, what can you see?

I can see trees. I can see branches covered in snow. I can see the horse’s ears. I can see the path dividing into two. I can see a giant, leafless oak tree in the middle of the split path. I can see–

A blue glow flickered behind the thick and mossy tree trunks on her left. It was faint but powerful enough to be seen in daylight, and caught the Princess’ undivided attention. The glow of the light was gentle, placid, like the tender caress of the moon’s light on a starry night. Eva couldn’t help but to stare at it, transfixed, wanting to know what was the source of it. It was a beautiful light.

The faint blue glow slowly followed their pace, shining unsteadily as it went through the massive expanse of trees and bushes. Eva narrowed her eyes, trying desperately to see what that silhouette was. By the way it moved, it looked like a four-legged animal, like a horse or a deer.

Did nobody else see this?

Eva ventured a quick glance sideways towards the Chief, but his head was staring straight ahead, as if the glow was invisible to him.

Upon scrunching her sight further, the Princess realised it was a stag. An enormous stag. The antlers were unnaturally big, twisting and bending on themselves, forming a quite frightening shape.

What, in God's name, was that.

The outlandish creature silently followed them, not making a single sound. Eva could only hear the hooves of their horses, some of them huffing, the cart creaking, the birds tweeting…

The stag suddenly stopped. Eva couldn’t stop staring, although something kept her on edge. Her grip on the Chief’s stallion crest and the saddle’s horn tightened, feeling the fabric of her gloves crack under the strain.

Eva just blinked once.

It was a flash, quick as lightning.

The stag had turned its head towards the Princess, and she could feel its gaze focused on her. The Princess held her breath, uneasiness gnawing every fibre of her body.

Eva blinked again.

Those eyes flashed in her mind. Big. Opaque. Dark blue.

Another blink.

Eva felt as if the creature charged towards her.

A strangled gasp escaped her lips, unconsciously throwing herself back in fear, hands grasping whatever was within reach, squeezing hard.

Blink.

The stag was gone.

The Chief quickly grabbed the Princess’ falling body, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her as the Chief hurriedly pulled the reins to stop his horse. The rest of the group did the same, stopping immediately upon seeing and hearing the ruckus. The Chief heard some of the men dismount, footsteps thudding on the snow. The Princess was frightened, as if something spook her on that side of the woods, and without thinking twice, the Chief moved her so she sat on her side, instead of astride the horse. Eva let him, pressing herself against his body, unaware of the hood falling from her head and some of the flowers falling down or getting crushed on the Chief’s chest. This way he could easily shield her of whatever danger may lurk behind the bushes and tree trunks. The Eldian leader looked at the point where the Princess had been staring, trying to find the source of it.

Nothing.

Levi appeared on his left side, his hands already on the hilt of his sword. He threw a questioning look to him, then glanced quickly at the Princess. Her face was pale. Levi frowned. The Chief answered him, nodding towards the woods as he spoke. Levi turned to face the same spot he was referring to, trying to see what scared the Gottesreichan Princess.

Nothing.

Prince Hans and Moblit approached them too, with Moblit asking his Chieftain what happened for them to suddenly stop. The Eldian leader told the same he did with Levi, and asked if the Crown Prince could help in inquiring further about it to his sister. Prince Hans nodded, slowly approaching them and gently placing his gloved hand on his sister’s ankle.

“Eva?”

Eva managed to rip her gaze away from the exact spot where the stag stood, looking down at her brother. The way her eyes were wide open concerned the prince.

“Did something happen?”

“T-there was– Big horns, it ran, it was– i-it stared at me and then it–”

“Eva, darling, breathe. Calm down, what was that you saw?”

Eva took a deep breath, gulped down the knot in her throat.

“I-I don’t know, I don’t know–”

“Did you say horns, your Highness?”

“I–” Eva’s eyes went from Moblit, to Hans and then to Levi, and the Chief too, all of them waiting for her response. Their awaiting gazes felt like hands squeezing her lungs and brains. The Chief’s thumb trying to reassure her felt scorching hot.

...Don’t cause a scene, like a–

She was causing a scene. She stopped the entire party because she got frightened over a… a stupid halucination, because her mind played tricks on her, for sure. Eva heard stress could do that to oneself, because that thing could not be real. And she was stressed.

Yes, it had to be that. No mystical stags with massive antlers.

The three men saw how the Princess forced herself to compose and gather her wits as if a spell had been casted on her, as if she had not lurched back and almost fell in a terrified mess. A mask devoid of feelings. Hans knew who forced that “magic trick” on her, and clenched his jaw in anger.

With a fake smile, the Princess spoke, trying to control the quivering in her voice and desperately pushing away the image of the stag’s antlers charging at her.

“My deepest apologies for making such a ridiculous and nonsensical scene, my Lords.” You must think of me as a fragile, spoiled, useless– “It was not my intention to make the horses stop. I must have seen a branch moved by the wind or a wild animal.” Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Prince Hans was not buying it. He knew his sister, practically raised her, because Father’s “efforts” couldn’t be called parenting, so he perfectly knew when she was spitting out massive amounts of bullshit. But he waited until Moblit translated and the Eldian warriors nodded in acknowledgement, going back to their horses and away from Moblit’s earshot, to speak again to his sister.

“Eva,” he briefly squeezed his hand on her boot, catching her attention. “Tell us later what you saw, okay?”

“I didn’t–”

“Eva.” she involuntarily flinched, and Hans wanted to kick himself; he was often reminded how he looked like Father when he was angry, and he hated it. The Chief’s icy glare directed at him made the sentiment grow. “Eva, I’m not mad, I’m concerned. We cannot protect you if we don’t know what we are fighting against.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a bother as I am right now.”

“You are not being a bother, Eva. Don’t apologise for that.”

“I’m sorry– ouch!”

Hans flicked his finger on her knee.

“Stop saying sorry, you have nothing to apologise for.” Hans replied. Eva had unclenched one of her hands to rub her knee, pouting, and that made the Crown Prince let out an amused huff. “C’mon, we will talk later.”

“Okay.” Hans was relieved to see his sister’s soft smile timidly appear.

The Chief waited until everyone got back to their horses before he resumed the pace. He kept glancing to where the Princess had spotted something, and upon looking ahead to guide his horse, he recalled the legends and myths surrounding the Eldian woods, and in particular this area with the leafless oak tree.

This particular forest was known for the spirits inhabiting it, sometimes showing themselves. Maybe it was the first time the Princess encountered one, considering her Kingdom’s policy on magical creatures. He would need Hange and Moblit to explain the spiritual world further to her, knowing they were the true experts.

As they reached the bifurcation of the path, the Eldian leader led them to the right, leaving the oak tree behind and lining up to cross the river’s bridge. They were close to their destination, that enormous glade just after the river, where they could set the tent and lit a bonfire to shelter the ritual testimonies and his future bride from the cold.

His future bride.

Erwin looked down, searching for her face. He found the Princess still deep in thought, her gaze lost.

He would really have to inquire further about it, dissipate any fears about the woods to her. Spirits were not evil, curious and mischievous yes, but the forest’s deities were good-natured, amiable.

The Chief still had his arm wrapped around her body, his hand resting on her abdomen, reassuring, as they continued their journey, and he had no intention to take it back. Eva let him, needing to feel secure after her encounter with the glowing stag. The Chief knew she was still trembling in fear, and made no comment or movement of how her own hand was clutching his tunic, or how she curled up further, not wanting to look out at the woods again.

It was a silent message, clear as crystalline water.

Help me, I’m scared.

And when the Chief gently squeezed his hand, pulling her closer, if that was even possible, answered her silent cry.

I’ll protect you.

The Princess believed it as she still felt those dark blue eyes glued to the back of her head as they left behind the oak tree.

They arrived at their destination without any further incidents. The eldian warriors got off their horses first, already taking everything they needed from the cart to set a quick tent to protect their guests from the unforgiving eldian winter and cold. The Chief stopped his horse in the flattest surface he could see, and gracefully dismounted without first guiding the Princess’ right hand on the horn, then the left on the cantle when he had his foot on the stirrup and was facing her, so she wouldn’t fall when he moved down. Once happy the Princess was secure, the Chief’s feet thudded into a soft grass bed covered in a thick layer of snow.

The Chief looked down, seeing his own worn boots sunken in the snow. Nobody had disturbed that snowfall, maybe some animals, but it had accumulated from the past weeks of snowy days and nights. He then looked at the Princess’ feet, and doubted the Princess’ boots would be thick enough for the forest snow; if it covered half his foot, then it would surely reach her ankles easily, recalling how small she was compared to him on last night’s banquet dance.

His feet moved on their own, pushing and shoving the snow away to make a clear spot for her to stand on without wetting the thin leather; he would need to talk to the shoemakers of the village, and seamstresses and tailors also, to make some appropriate Eldian winter clothes for her, or else the Princess wouldn’t last a week without falling ill. Erwin had no doubts about Hange’s healing skills, but he was sure Friederich wouldn’t be pleased, to say it mildly.

Once he was satisfied and saw the deep green of the wet grass, Erwin looked up, finding the Princess staring at him and being caught red handed. The Princess quickly averted her gaze, embarrassed at her lack of decorum, and Erwin saw how her cheeks and ears flushed quite prominently. He tried to quell her anxiousness with a smile, moving closer to her and grabbing the stirrup so she could set her right heel on it, trying to make clear to her that he didn’t take it as an offense. The Princess let the Chief guide her, unconsciously tightening her grip on the horn of the saddle when the Eldian leader gently took her leather-clad ankle and made her put it on the stirrup. The Princess was reminded, once again, how massive this man was.

The Chief raised his left hand, signaling her to take it. Once she did, timidly posing her hand on his, and thinking he would only aid her to not fall flat on her face, the Chief surprised her by gently tugging her hand forward, on top of his shoulder, and making her body inevitably fall forward. Eva’s other hand had shooted onwards, joining the other on his opposite shoulder. The Princess let out a tiny gasp when she felt both the gravity do its job and the Chief’s hands grasp her waist, easily picking her up like she did on the banquet’s dance from last night, and easing her down on her feet right on the spot he cleared earlier. The Chief watched the flurry of skirts and cloak flow as she landed, reminding him of the summer snowflakes that bloomed in Spring. Even in her unfamiliarity of her environment, the Chief thought of her unconscious gracefulness elegant.

She really was small.

His hands felt like they were a perfect fit.

The clearing of someone’s throat brought them both back to the present, their little bubble being popped off. They both turned to see Levi impatiently waiting with his arms crossed, and in the distance, the Chief could see Friederich’s stare hurling dagger after dagger at him. Throwing an apologetic smile towards the Prince, because he knew it would be useless on his friend, the Chief let go of her waist as the Princess hurriedly withdrew her hands from his shoulders, as if she had been burned. Levi said something to the Chief, which he answered with his usual smile and cheeky retorts that made Levi want to smack him.

Both eldians kept talking while Levi walked towards the Chief’s horse, taking the reins and tugging the enormous beast with him, leaving the Chief to deal with the Princess. Said man turned to her, offering his arm like he did back at the village. Eva tightened her closed fists before forcing herself to unclench them, accepting the Chief’s invitation and letting him guide her back to the rest of the party.

Flora was already inside the tent, a dusting of red on her cheeks too as she helped ready the wooden folding stools, putting thick pelts on the stool’s fabric seat. Nanaba was fanning the beginnings of a fire, while Mike helped her by setting more logs nearby for when they would be needed, and making sure the smoke vent opening of the tent was secure and working. There was a table with various objects laid in it, going from bowls to sage sticks, a dark powder and other items that were going to be used shortly, to a bow and a quiver full of arrows. Moblit was conversing with Prince Hans, seemingly talking about the Eldian tent and how it worked, comparing it with the Gottesreichan ones. Friederich tagged along, but was absolutely ignoring the conversation in favour of watching the Chief and his sister come inside.

The Eldian warriors saluted their Chief and went back to their chores and preparations. Moblit took the cue to lead the Gottesreichan princes to their Chief, awaiting his leader’s signal to proceed with the marital ritual. They all waited until every single one of the preparations were done, so there would be no disturbances from now on.

Moblit explained the next step of the ritual, mindful to describe and illustrate each stage of it so it was clear to everyone and didn’t lead to any misunderstandings. Eva shivered at the mention of blood, not being very keen at the sight of it. From her culture’s perspective, this was truly barbaric. What did Father get her into? As Moblit finished, they began the ritual, not wanting to delay it further and kept exposing the Gottesreichan guests to the cold.

First, we must cleanse the betrothed of negative energy.

Nanaba took her cue, as one of the village’s priestesses, and walked to the table, taking the sage stick with her. She approached the fire and let the tip of the sage stick ignite, blowing on the flame so it would burn slowly. The smoke from the stick began to float around the tent, it’s minty scent reaching everyone present in it. The eldian warrior moved to where the Chief and the Princess stood, gently commanding them to stand in the proper way, with both their hands clasped together and facing each other. Eva’s heart made a leap, wanting to get out of her mouth at the closeness for the tenth time this day. What was it with Eldians and their need for… for proximity?!

This was not like the dance, where they parted quickly to follow the music. The Princess had to endure looking at those intense blue eyes, gazing back at her, and fight every single fibre of her being to not flee and hide herself behind a tree or anything that managed to conceal her. His stare was unnerving, not because he was looking at her in any unsolicited way, but because she was not used at all to look into a man’s eyes, sans her brothers, and now she had to.

Nanaba lifted the stick, the smoke following her movements and leaving a mystical trail behind it. She began speaking and chanting in Eldian with a beautiful and soft voice, reminiscing Eva of a gentle lullaby sung by doting mothers. Nanaba’s lips had a kind smile painted on them as she kept chanting and passing the burning sage around and between them. Every Eldian warrior present in the tent slowly joined in, their voices harmonically blending together. It was beautiful, otherworldly but enchanting in a magical way. Eva felt her tense shoulders slightly relax as the voices soothed her anxiety.

Flora looked mesmerised at the cleansing ritual. Back home this would be straight out heresy and sin, any sort of witchcraft more than strictly prohibited; it’s penalty was death. But it was impossible to look away, it bewitched you to maintain your gaze on it as if two hands gently guided your gaze and didn’t let go. The handmaiden didn’t have to look at her side to see the Princes being transfixed as she was, she knew. Who could look away from it?

As the chanting came to an end, slowly, kindly as before, the voices quieted down as Nanaba held the sage stick above their heads, closing her eyes with the finishing Eldian words. The Gottesreichan guests felt the immense urge to erupt into applause, almost feeling unworthy of having witnessed something so unique and private to their culture. Nanaba stepped back, leaving the burning sage to keep letting out its smoke in a stone plate as she prepared the next stage of the ritual.

Once cleansed, the bride must paint her groom’s ancestors marks to honour his name and household, so he may enter the challenge bearing his warrior’s marks.

Nanaba took a bowl and started mixing water, oil and the powder that had been carefully set before inside a leather pouch. With expert movements, she created the paint used for their body paintings and markings, that deep and rich blue Eva had seen on the warriors and the Chief upon arriving on Eldia. The paint looked thick as Nanaba lifted the stone pestle from the mortar, watching the blue liquid drip down.

The warrior took the mortar, leaving the pestle on the table on top of a cloth, and walked back to the Chief and the Princess. She was smiling at them both, giving Eva an air of tranquility and peace with her gentle movements and soft expression. Nanaba held the mortar in her hands, holding it a bit higher so the Princess had it easier to dip her fingers in. The Chief let go of her hands and Eva took them back, not wanting to think about his warmth. The Princess busied herself by taking off her gloves, the tips of her ears turning red in embarrassment when one of the gloves got stuck at a finger, her trembling hands not helping her one bit. Both Nanaba and the Chief waited patiently, not giving any signals of annoyance or disdain for her clumsiness, as she would have expected from Father. Finally, she got rid of the stupid glove, and before she had to turn back to look for a surface to leave them on, her handmaiden took the initiative and stepped forward, hoping she wasn’t intruding much into the ritual. Flora took the gloves in silence, far gone was her cheery and cheeky smile, replaced by a solemn and serious expression. Flora stepped back into her place beside the Gottesreichan Princes, carefully holding the expensive gloves in her hands.

Nanaba presented the mortar and Eva couldn’t be more lost than she was right now. She had to draw the warrior’s ancestor’s mark, but she had absolutely no idea what those were. The paintings he had yesterday on the Great Hall’s stairs? A stripe? Dots? Hand print? Eva looked at the mortar as if it held all the answers to her questions, desperately hoping it provided an answer… but it was just a stone mortar. Nanaba’s eyes widened in realisation, and caught the Princess’ attention by letting go of the mortar with one hand and lifting it to her own face. Eva stared at her fingers as they mimicked the lines she had to draw on the Chief’s face. Nanaba could see her relieved and profoundly thankful face, and was relieved herself too as it would have been quite disastrous and insightful of her to assume she would know them. Nanaba presented the mortar again and this time Eva lifted her own trembling hand to dip her fingers into the paint.

It was cold and thick, and undoubtedly got under her nails –Flora wouldn’t be pleased about that– but still, Eva let her fingers thoroughly dip into it, preparing herself mentally for having to touch the Chief herself. But, there was another problem.

He was too damn tall.

Eva couldn’t reach his face without struggling to do so, straining her arms and body to reach him more easily, so she did not know how to ask the Chief to bend slightly down, so she wouldn’t make an embarrassing mess of the job. Eva still had her fingers inside the mortar, debating herself how to do it without dripping excessive paint on the floor and on their own clothes. Taking a deep breath, Eva decided to try her luck. Lifting her fingers, she let the excess of paint drop back down into the mortar, moving them out of it when she deemed it safe enough.

The Chief didn’t stop gazing at her the entire time, patiently awaiting and enduring the ritual, and it only fueled her own nerves. What would he think of her if she made a disastrous mess? No! No, don’t let those thoughts in now, concentrate. Eva unconsciously bit her bottom lip, trying to quell the knots in her stomach, and completely obviated the way the Chief’s eyes quickly shifted down and back up. As she predicted, the Princess had trouble reaching his face, and inevitably watched a drop run down her hand and fall down, hitting his boot. Eva gasped, lurching back her hand and feeling her throat squeeze in itself. Oh no, no no no– this was terrible, catastrophic! Eva felt her lungs run out of air as her throat kept squeezing itself, feeling how her eyes stung and began to gather unshed tears.

Eva screwed up, she screwed it up badly. Was the stain permanent? Could she ask Flora for help in how to remove it? The Princess did not dare to look up at the Chief, knowing this would only end in punishment. Eva only hoped the Chief would be merciful to some extent, knowing she would have to pay for ruining his boots. Oh dear, this was bad. So bad. She couldn’t even do one single stupid task, Father was right–

Eva’s blurry vision filled itself with the Chief’s body and concerned face, having knelt down to try to bring the Princess back from her spiral of dread. His hand tenderly touched her face, trying to make her focus on him. The Chief felt anger bubbling inside him, witnessing first hand, sadly, what the brothers told him about their Father and their little sister. This wasn’t a normal reaction, this was someone who expected severe physical punishment, someone who lived in fear. Dear Goddesses above, he wanted to punch that man.

The Chief tried to calm her down as one would do with a scared animal, executing slow and open-handed movements so they saw he meant no threat or harm. The Chief ventured a reassuring smile, his hand on her cheek not moving and forcing her to see how he was not mad. Erwin didn’t have to look behind the Princess to see everyone’s concerned faces, or the Princes ready to storm in –mainly Friederich– and secure their sister.

The Eldian leader moved her dripping fingers towards his face, letting go of her own delicate face, and still kneeling at her feet. Eva never wanted to disappear more than she did right now; not only was she a huge embarrassment, but the Chief had to kneel at her feet. No noble or royal would lower themselves down for a peasant or foreigner, and yet, this Chieftain did without thinking twice. The Chief closed his eyes, waiting for the feel of her fingertips on his skin as if he was a venerable knight awaiting for his Princess’ touch at the throne room. The Princess swallowed down, harshly, gathered what resolve she could and went back to the ritual.

Her hand was shaking, still not fully recovered from the scare, and involuntarily flinched her fingers when they touched his skin for the first time. The Princess scrambled to remember what Nanaba showed her: first, a wide stripe across his nose, from cheek to cheek. Eva willed her hand to move and felt her breath stutter for a completely different reason than her fear.

His skin was warm and surprisingly soft to the touch. The Chief did not move upon feeling her fingers run across his face, keeping himself perfectly still so she could do a perfect application. Eva watched mesmerised as her digits easily glided on his skin, eyes glued to how long and blonde his eyelashes were. Eva knew many noble ladies and princesses would envy him for being so naturally gifted. They fanned down his cheeks, and in this perspective and light, it made his cheekbones sharper and nose stand proudly on his face, and it went along with his bushy and thick eyebrows, something she couldn’t help but notice right away from him. Eva discovered the Chief had some faint freckles sprayed across his broad nose, undoubtedly from being exposed to so many hours a day in the sun, contrary to her who was always kept in the shadows. Even his blonde hair looked shiny and soft to the touch, not a single doubt in her mind that the Chief had taken care of bathing himself thoroughly for today.

Eva realised that the Chief was… handsome.

He possessed that beauty of men.

Eva noticed her fingers had run dry, like her mouth. Feeling her cheeks heat up, Eva turned to Nanaba, trying to distract her thoughts by dipping her fingers again in the paint. This time Eva felt more confident, seeing how the Chief was still patiently kneeling at her feet and completely trusted her. This time, too, Eva felt bolder, reaching for his face, hovering over his jaw, to help guide her own hand into an even line. Her fingers resumed the glide on the bridge of his nose, and gulled up all the small details and movements he made, like the controlled breath, how he unconsciously raised his head to her touch, the way his eyelids fluttered when he felt her fingers smooth down his other cheek…

Eva had never been this close to a man before.

Her heart thumped wildly at the realisation of it, how in her secluded life, she had never been next to a man that… intimately close. For a moment, Eva lost track of what she was doing, having her fingers hovering over his cheek. The sight of him swallowing and watching his Adam's apple bob, snapped out of her trance. Lost, Eva looked back at Nanaba, who immediately caught up and showed her the next lines she had to make. Two lines on his left eye and cheek, and three to the right. Eva watched which fingers Nanaba used, replicating the same movements on the Chief’s face.

Her fingers gently stroked down his cheek, accidentally brushing the tips of her fingers on his long lashes. Eva felt and saw them twitch, and had an apology ready on her lips even though he couldn’t understand a single syllable of it. But seeing the corner of his mouth twitch up made the words get stuck in her throat. Was he enjoying this? Her clumsy and pathetic attempt? Did he find her mistakes amusing?

That dread and hollowing sensation in her mind and chest came back with a vengeance. Sucking a breath in, Eva continued on autopilot, finishing the other three stripes on the other side of the face. The Chief noticed the trembling on her fingers return, and once the markings were done, the Chieftain immediately opened his striking eyes, zeroing on the Princess and finding that anguished and anxious expression on her face again. In the distance, both of them could hear Nanaba speak and Moblit translate it for the foreigners, signaling it was time for the third part of the ritual.

Eva swallowed a whimper, having the Chieftain’s entire attention on her and not knowing what to make of it. Was he mad? Was he trying to intimidate her?

The Eldian Chief didn’t let Eva dwell much into her restless thoughts, taking her stained hand in his. It was sudden, and a tiny gasp escaped her mouth. Nanaba already prepared the basin with warm water to clean the fingers, and the Chief stood up to his full height, not releasing her hand. Testing the water first and deeming it acceptable, the Chief dipped the offered cloth that rested on Nanaba’s forearm, gently wiping the Princess’ fingers. He took most of the paint off, but would need a thorough scrubbing when they got back into the village. To finally get rid of most of the paint, the Chief submerged the fingers inside the water, letting the liquid melt the dried chunks of paint.

Eva watched the pigments disperse into the water, not daring to look back at the Eldian leader and feeling her cheeks blaze up.

The next step was blessing the weapon used for the hunting, a traditional Eldian bow used for this ritual. The groom had to hunt their prey using only that bow and arrows, a dagger only for if they needed to defend themselves if the occasion arose. Nanaba took the still burning sage stick, lifting it from the plate and passing it over the bow, quill and arrows. Then he motioned Eva to approach her, the Chief letting go of her hand and watching her walk to where Nanaba needed her to be. The eldian warrior passed the bow to Eva, instructing her to stand in front of the Chief as Nanaba said something in Eldian and passed the sage around and across them.

Eva could see how magnificent and a work of art this bow was. Completely black, big and with gold motifs on its wood of the same engravings all across the village. The Princess was used to the simpler ones, made of wood, leather and a string. This one was the masterpiece of an artisan, many hours and work poured into this superb piece. It was almost a shame it was going to be used, afraid of having a single scratch on its perfectly polished surface.

When Nanaba finished, she nodded at the Princess to offer the blessed bow to the Chief, who in turn got down on one knee and bowed, accepting the weapon. They repeated this step for the quiver and arrows, the Chief silently taking them in reverence.

Now, it was the fourth and final step of the ritual before the hunting began.

The bride must send off the groom, wishing him luck and for the Goddesses to bless the hunting.

And how was Eva supposed to do that? Did she have to wave goodbye as she watched him disappear into the woods? Say something? Do a certain thing? Her mind was racing, trying to find something suitable to do. Nanaba wouldn’t help her this time, since this was a step that the bride must do alone. Panic was taking over, her brain struggling to find something suitable to send the Chief off. So, as a mind in panic often did, Eva’s went blank, and did the first thing that came into mind.

She read about it in her secret books, blushing at the romanticism of it and thinking what would Eva do in the heroine’s place.

Well, now she knew.

Eva bent down, gently holding the Chief’s face in her hands and letting her lips touch his forehead in a feather-light, soft kiss, murmuring “good luck” into his skin.

That surprised everyone.

Including the Chief.

And herself.

The Eldian leader looked back at her with wide eyes and his mouth slightly open. This was completely unexpected. Now the groom had to answer the bride, and it was the Chief’s turn to have a blank mind. He should correspond her gesture.

The Chief took her hand again and lifted it to his lips, never tearing his eyes away from her and her flushed and embarrassed face. He saw the Princess’ cheeks redden further as she felt the soft press of his own lips on the back of her hand, and kept gazing at her as he stood up and saluted her with the Eldian salute, bowing while doing so.

Eva watched the Chieftain turn around and march towards the tent’s entrance, the Princess noticing how the tips of his ears had a red flush on them, too. He didn’t turn back, Eva watching his broad shoulders disappear outside the tent.

Now, they had to wait for him to come back.

Levi had busied himself into making tea for everyone. Their guests were seated on the wooden stools near the fire, keeping them warm. It had been quite a while since the Chief had departed, and Eva’s hand and lips still felt as if they had been set ablaze by the contact of their skins. Thankfully, nobody questioned her “sending off” or inquired further about it, but as Levi handed out a cup to everyone, Prince Hand turned to face his sister.

“Eva,” he did not want to spook her more than she already was. Hans knew Eva hated being the center of attention, and since her arrival she had only been on everyone’s sights. “About earlier, in the forest.”

The Crown Prince saw his sister visibly tense up.

Moblit kept an eye on the siblings.

“It was nothing.” Eva kept her voice low, not wanting to disturb anyone. She felt like a bother, having to be babysat by the Eldian warriors. Moblit explained how it would usually be the priestess, the bride and groom and witnesses from both sides of the betrotheds, one for each side of the family. So she had more than double of the necessary witnesses. Like a defenseless, useless child.

But she was.

You are nothing more than a pretty doll.

She was.

Your job is to stand still and obey.

“Nothing makes you almost throw yourself off a horse.” Hans pushed the issue, not wanting to let it go. Not yet.

Eva felt the grip on her tea cup tighten at his insistence, and trying to not answer the question just yet, Eva lifted it to her lips and took a sip, eyes casted down to the floor.

“The wind…”

“Eva, please.” Hans’s hand landed on her forearm, making Eva look at her concerned brother with guilt in her eyes. Hans knew his sister never truly showed her feelings or thoughts, always keeping them to herself so she would not be a bother. “I beg you. If there’s something out there, not only you are in danger, but the Chief is now that he ventured alone into the woods.”

Eva felt a pang of culpability and shame at how selfish she had been. Hans was right, the Chieftain could be in danger because of her own childish fears and stupidity. They all could be. Swallowing down a wet sigh, Eva looked at her brother with a regretful gaze.

“I saw a stag, but it was... unnatural. It… it glowed a blue light, as if it was made of light itself.” Eva awaited for a sneer, a laugh at her wild, immature imagination. Eva waited for her father’s eyes to pin her to the ground with disdain and disgust in them. But Hans frowned, concerned.

“A magical creature?” Hans hummed to himself, leaning back in his seat and taking back his arm, his hand absentmindedly stroking his well kept beard. A magical creature made more sense.

Gottesreich was under their father’s strict rule, and everyone knew how no magical creature could thrive in their Kingdom. Father made sure of it. Countless wars, countless battles and marches of their army into their territories to extinguish the heresy, the sinners. Countless resources spent on Father’s crusade. Hans had to admit at first he believed it. Father told him how they took mother away, how it was their fault. Father told him how they were dangerous, treacherous, dishonest and double-crossing. Father had to cleanse the world from them.

But seeing first hand how they, the Holy Kingdom of Gottesreich, were the true sinners and heretics, how they were the murderers of the innocent… Hans and Friederich would never forget the faces of those children. That was their breaking point. The start of their rebellion.

Eva had never been exposed to magic, always been taught to fear it and the creatures that used and thrived in it, so it made sense she was afraid of the unknown. But a small part of his brain whispered how the creatures were angry at them, rightfully so. They knew who they were, where they came from. Gottesreich was a name they would spit on it, curse it, detest it.

“Magical creature?” Eva’s eyes widened in fear, the dark blue stare of the stag flashing in her mind. Father told them how they were blood-thirsty and traitorous beings. If that creature was in the woods… The Chief was in danger! “Brother, if that is true, then we must aid the Chieftain! That creature is going to–”

“My deepest apologies for intruding in your conversation, your Highnesses.” Moblit cut Eva’s anguished pleas. Hans and Eva turned to the eldian warrior. “But I think I must take part in it and clear up some misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings?” Prince Hans frowned.

“We are in the Old Forest of the Ancient Gods.” A chill ran down Eva’s spine. Ancient Gods? “This is a sacred place for the Eldians, as it is both the residence of the magical creatures and the start of our people, of Eldia. If Your Highnesses fancy it, I can explain in more detail about our deities and ancient history when we get back to the village after the ritual comes to its end.” Prince Hans nodded, quite interested in expanding his knowledge of their allies. “But, as I was saying, these woods gave us food and shelter when we needed it, and provided us with the sacred woods to make our homes.”

That explained the archaic looking pillars scattered on the village and in its houses, with their markings and engravings.

“We respect the ancient creatures living in this forest, and do not take what we are not allowed to. We aim to protect them as they protected us.” Moblit waited for the siblings to process his words, and took a moment to breathe. “Probably, the creature you saw, Your Highness, was the Guardian of the Forest. It is said it has an unnatural size and antlers that are as big as tree branches. It doesn’t often appear to guests, so it must have sensed you.”

“Is… is that bad?” She didn’t want to be sensed. She wanted to be left alone.

“Not precisely.” That didn’t really quell any fears in the Princess’ heart. “The Guardian is a curious creature, and has no ill intentions towards those who pose no threat.”

Moblit didn’t mention how The Guardian sensed rarities.

“I really don’t wish for a confrontation with anyone, specially… magical creatures, or old gods.” Eva fought every fiber of her being to not shiver at the thought of it. What would she be able to do, a mere defenseless human, against powerful beings?

“I’m sure The Guardian knows that well, Your Highness. They are wise.”

“Then…” Eva looked down at her hands, still gloveless and with a bit of a blue stain on her fingertips, clutching tightly the tea cup. “Why did The Guardian… charge towards me?”

“Charge, Your Highness?”

Eva felt a bolt of courage go through her body. Maybe this would answer some questions she had.

“The Guardian fixed its eyes on me, or at least it felt like it was doing that, and… and also as if he was looking deep inside on me, as if it was somehow searching for something. I felt… bare. Defenseless.” her grip on the cup tightened. “Then, The Guardian charged towards me, that’s why I almost fell from the horse. It… was as if I had been knocked down by a strong wind, breath leaving my lungs. Did I do something to cross it?”

Eva immediately felt as if she said too much, talked way too much than was strictly necessary. Her mouth had run off as if she was a charlatan. Where did her manners go?

The Princess refused to look up at her brother and the Eldian warrior, knowing how they probably found her lack of decorum distasteful, babbling so much. She kept her gaze on the tea, gently shining from the torches and fire.

“Ah…” Moblit took a pensive stance, going through the Princess’ words to find a suitable explanation. “Be at ease, Your Highness, I highly doubt you did something to raise The Guardian’s wrath upon yourself. As its name says, it’s the guardian of the forest, so they are cautious of newcomers. They are of the spiritual realm, so I don’t think I err by saying that he… actually looked into your soul.” Eva raised her eyes at the Eldian warrior, slightly nauseated at the thought of being looked at in such intimate and personal places where even herself couldn’t see, and unconsciously rubbed her hand on her chest. Moblit greeted her with a smile, which only increased Eva’s displeasure. “The Guardian deemed you worthy.”

“Then, what about the rest of us?” Friederich spoke up.

“The Guardian didn’t even see you as a threat.” Moblit didn’t even bat his eyes once, and kept his amiable smile.

Friederich didn’t know if to feel insulted or not. He opted to be comforted by the thought of it, considering the red staining his hands.

“Good to know, then.” Friederich crossed his arms over his chest, looking back at the fire.

“I hope this appeased your worries, Your Highness. I assure you The Guardian meant no harm, and I understand you might have been confused by its actions, since I… ah, know that you didn’t have many encounters with magical creatures.”

“Thank you kindly, Moblit. I do feel more at ease.” Lies. She was scared shitless.

“If you have any more questions, please do not hesitate to ask me, Your Highnesses. I am here to be of as much help as I can be.” Eva forced herself to smile as an answer.

Hans asked Moblit something that was in his mind, his insatiable curiosity taking over, and Eva immediately removed herself from the conversation. The Princess took a sip of her tea, as if it would help her gulp down and digest the massive amounts of information she had just been fed right now. The mere thought of having magical creatures freely roaming the lands deeply unsettled her. Weren’t they dangerous, as Father said? Did the Eldians really trust those creatures? Was she, her brothers and Flora truly safe?

Nanaba appeared on her right, kneeling down and letting one of her hands gently rest on her wrist. She had a warm smile on her lips, reaching her eyes, and her demeanour and aura told Eva that under the warrior garments, she was a kind and sweet woman. Eva felt as if the Eldian warrior was trying to reassure her in some way, as if she understood completely what the conversation had been about. Maybe she knew Gottesreichan?

But with Prince Hans and Moblit’s voices in the background, the fire happily creaking, Flora’s quiet presence beside her and Nanaba’s gentle care, she let herself be persuaded into a more calm state.

Now all they had to do was wait for the Chieftain’s return.

It had been many hours since the Chief departed into the woods, the sun having moved from its position in the sky and changing the lights inside the tent, and with every hour that passed, Eva feared something happened to the man. Even if they just met and Eva couldn’t make out his character or intentions yet, she thought no-one should die alone in the woods.

Moblit and the other warrior’s nods reassured her the Chief was one of the best hunters of the village, no-one outbesting Levi in that matter, but the Chief was good. The marital ritual was an exercise of patience not only for the hunter, but for the one who awaited their soon to be spouse to come back. Still, Eva thought the Chief had been gone too long, and that worried her.

As Levi served the Princess another cup of tea, a distant sound could be heard from outside the tent. Immediately, the Eldian warriors stood to attention, looking at each other as they heard the sound repeat itself, now closer. The Gottesreichan guests looked at each other with mirrored confused expressions. Was something out of the ordinary?

Mike moved first, walking to the entrance of the tent and stepping out of it. Then they heard Mike let out another sound, as if answering the first one, and the Princess realised it was similar to bird calls, so inconspicuous to the untrained ears but useful for its users. The first call answered Mike back, and the giant warrior came back in to open the tent’s entrance and tie the fabric to the pole, securing a perfect view of outside.

It was as if time slowed down, holding their breaths, but everyone present inside the tent could see a massive silhouette slowly approach them. Everyone sprung into action at once, and Moblit’s gentle words could be heard amongst the ruckus of boots and cloaks, explaining to the Gottesreichan guests the next steps of the ritual.

The bride must welcome back the groom from their hunt. The groom will present their hunting piece to his betrothed–

Nanaba came by the Princess’s side and urged her to leave the tea and stand up with her, making her walk to the entrance itself. The Princess stood, frozen, at the very edge of the tent, and she could feel the winter breeze caress her face, the warmth of the fire behind her back.

Then she saw him.

The Chieftain was back. Safe and with the prize.

He succeeded.

Eva didn’t know she had been holding her breath, but as the Chief neared the tent, Eva released the burning air out of her lungs.

His hair was disheveled, no doubt from the little bouts of wind, but overall he appeared unscathed. Eva’s eyes widened upon realisation of what he was carrying on his robust shoulders: a massive stag that surely weighed like three cows without the antlers. If Eva could, she would laugh at the irony of that.

The Princess could see his muscles bulging from the strain of carrying such an enormous animal, and she instinctively swallowed down at the sight of her soon-to-be husband when the wind picked up and opened his Eldian cloak, flapping behind him. Her mind was a garbled, confused mess. Was this what she would see, everyday, from now on?

But his eyes were burning. Eva felt herself be pinned down by them, by their determination and purpose. If Eva had been one of her forbidden novel’s heroines, she would have fainted at the sight of a big, barbaric strong man coming her way. Instead, she willed her legs to hold her up and patiently await his arrival. She still had a role to play in this ritual, as Moblit said earlier.

The Chief stopped in front of her, heaving from the effort, but exchanged no words, only his hypnotic blue gaze. Eva watched, with her own eyes wide open, as the Chief eased down the stag to the snow covered ground with the utmost care, and not even breaking his eye contact with her. The Eldian leader presented his hunting piece and kneeled down, awaiting the next step the Princess had to carry on.

–and the bride must take out the sacred arrow from the hunting piece. The bride must show it to the witnesses as proof the groom succeeded in the trial.

Just the mere thought of it made Eva want to bolt back inside the tent.

The Princess willed her legs to move forward, her boots thudding on the snow. The Chief patiently waited for her to come, quietly regaining his breath. Eva gathered her skirts, lifting them slightly as she courtly bowed before the stag and the Chief, hoping that would suffice as a welcome back. He didn’t move, so she thought it worked.

Eva approached them slowly, as if she was desperately gathering all her will and resolve to do the next part. The Princess kneeled down herself too in front of the animal, eyes glued to the beautiful black and gold arrow embedded in the stag’s thick neck. Her hands couldn’t stop trembling as she raised them, and involuntarily flinched when some of her fingers brushed the still warm skin. The Princess released a stuttered breath as her hands neared the arrow. Then, she stopped there, unable to move further.

The Chief’s hands appeared in her vision, gently wrapping his gloved fingers around her own hands, guiding them into the proper position. His touch was reassuring and Eva’s eyes quickly flashed up to the Eldian leader. He was solemn, but not cold. He didn’t seem disappointed, either. The Chief nodded towards their hands, showing Eva how she must pull out the arrow. Releasing a deep breath, Eva wrapped her fingers around the arrow, the other one setting next to it on top of the skin. Press and pull. She could do this.

Press and pull.

Eva did not want to think about the skin pulling up with the arrow head, or the blood trickling down as it moved upwards, but she had to do it. The faster she did it, the sooner she would be out of that situation.

Press and pull.

Inevitably pulling her lips into a grimace, biting them afterwards, the Princess pulled the arrow out with all the strength she could muster. The squelch was sickening and Eva wanted to lurch and vomit the tea she had just been drinking. Her hands sprouted back into a shaking and she could not tear her eyes away from the droplets of blood falling down the arrowhead into the white snow, staining it.

The Chief’s hands curled around her face, tearing her gaze away from the blood and into his concerned blue eyes. Eva felt her breathing harden, her lungs squeezing on themselves, but the Chief managed to keep her grounded enough to not faint. The Eldian leader managed a tiny smile, as if he wanted to show her how proud he was of her, or that’s what Eva would like to believe. He nodded towards the tent where the other Eldian warriors awaited the proof of the groom’s success. Eva assented, getting back up on her feet with the Chief’s help. He even brushed off the snow off her dress and patiently waited for the signal to come in.

Eva clumsily turned around and walked towards the entrance, so mechanically she wanted to slap herself in shame. Her hands tightened around the arrow, willing herself to calm down, for God’s sake.

Nanaba was the first to greet her with a kind smile. She looked down at her hands as Eva presented the arrow, and her smile widened when she saw that the Chief, indeed, succeeded. Nanaba turned around, making Eva step forward and present the arrow to everyone else. The female warrior said something in Eldian as she did so, and everyone relaxed immediately. Eva quickly ventured her eyes to look at her brothers and handmaiden. She hoped her eyes screamed out her message: I want to go home already.

Thankfully Nanaba made her turn around to face her and made her close her fingers around the arrow, pressing it to her chest. She had to keep that arrow, as Moblit said earlier when explaining the next step.

The bride must carry the arrow in her hands home, showing it to the village as proof, also, that the marital ritual was a success and the Goddesses bless this union.

The arrow was going to be hung in the house walls she would share with the Chief soon, since it would become some sort of talisman or charm for their union. Eva didn’t know if she would get used to the sight of it, but hoped she would manage to look at it fondly one day.

Nanaba went to the entrance, seconds later the Chief himself entered the tent with his heavy boots thudding on the ground. The Eldian warriors solemnly saluted him and he answered with a nod.

“The ritual was a success.” Moblit’s voice announced to the Gottesreichan guests. “The Goddesses have blessed the start of their journey together.”

It was official then. They would marry in two months.

The journey back to the village was spent in silence too.

The Eldian warriors had carried and secured the stag into the wooden cart, knowing it would be tonight’s main dish at the evening banquet. Eva didn’t know if she would be able to stomach it down after the encounter earlier.

It was uneventful, too, if Eva didn’t count the fact that she had to spend the entire ride back on the Chief’s massive beast of a horse again, his hand on her waist, and God forgive her for the strangled gasp she gave and the furious blush on her cheeks, when the Chief tried to rearrange the flowers from her hair.

The Guardian did not appear again, or Eva felt its presence inside her mind. It was as if the creature had vanished, and Eva didn’t know if to feel glad for it. Her grip on the beautiful black arrow tightened, hoping it all had been worth it. She just wanted her life here to be as peaceful and harmonious as possible, not wanting to be much of a burden as she was already being. At least, that’s how she felt, either here or in Father's presence.

The horse’s gait was a slow and peaceful one, just like when they first came to the forest. Looking to her left, Eva saw the long-haired cows from earlier, still munching on the little bouts of grass and plants there were left from the freezing snow, their bells softly chiming in the distance. They looked like they had no worries, no duties to perform, no expected performances… nothing. Just help the farmers and munch on their grass. They still brought a smile on her lips.

In the distance Eva could see the village’s walls and main gate appear. Her stomach twisted itself inside, feeling her throat squeeze in and her fingers tremble. She would have to be the main attraction of the ritual now, with a public. Eva knew she should be used to it, being a Princess and dealing with courts and public speeches back at the Kingdom, but nothing compared to speaking and interacting with people from another kingdom, as if you were part of them. She felt like an impostor trying to fit in.

Moblit explained earlier how she would have to proceed upon entering the village, and gulping down her nerves, she looked up at the sky, trying to gather any strength and resolve that hadn’t left her yet. The arrow was secure, wrapped in a cloth, and the bride carried it the entire journey, she couldn’t mess this up. As they neared the entrance, the guards stood straighter into attention and announced the Chief’s return. People started gathering on the main street of the village, eager to see if the Chief had been successful.

The Eldian leader guided the horse far enough into the main street for the rest of the entourage to enter the village too, gently stopping it when it was time for Eva to present the arrow. Everyone was waiting, holding their breaths, eyes wide with curiosity and eagerness. Even the kids remained silent, albeit jumping on their feet and tugging at their mother’s skirts in impatience.

The Princess looked down at her hands.

Unwrap the arrow. Present it. Keep it until you share the same roof.

Oh dear God above. She wanted to run.

Eva’s fingers couldn’t stop their nervous tremors, slowly picking the cloth, careful to not let it fall. She swallowed hard, as if she had a ball of sawdust in her mouth, tongue dry.

C’mon, you useless Princess. Present the arrow, do your job.

An overwhelmed whimper threatened to escape from her throat, the events of yesterday, today and the undoubtedly nerve-wracking ones from the future piling up together. Not now, not now! She would have time to cry later in the privacy of her room!

A soft murmur of foregin words reached her ears, gentle words and hands guiding her and managing to, somehow, pull back the unstoppable string of dark thoughts her mind subjected her to. His thick gloved hands helped steady her own, and once he deemed it safe enough, his hands returned to her waist and the horse’s reins, making Eva feel as if she had been enveloped in a warm and caring cocoon, saying “you got this. You can do it.” Eva chose to believe those words, at least for now.

The arrow was still an impressive work of art, although stained with the now dry blood of the stag. It shone, the black lacquer without a crack or scratch, it’s feathers in perfect condition. Eva lifted it from the cloth, leaving the fabric on top of her dress skirts, and holding it on both her hands, Eva raised her arms, showing the arrow to everyone present.

The entire village erupted into cheers and shouts, children screaming excitedly as they let themselves share their parents’ happiness, also never missing an opportunity to make a ruckus without being reprimanded. The Eldian villagers clapped, whistled, let out relieved breaths… everyone was genuinely happy their Chief managed to complete the ritual to perfection. Eva ventured a look back at the Chief and she found him smiling fondly at his villagers before looking at her, still that fond gaze in his blue eyes. Eva looked straight ahead, her ears red.

The Chief willed his horse to move again slowly and mindful of the villagers on both sides of the street. Eva lowered her arms, setting the arrow back into the cloth and covering it, not daring to look anywhere else but the horse’s beautiful crest.

“I think I will need the wine this time.”

Eva eyed the magnificently cooked meat in front of her, knowing it was the stag that the Chief hunted today. She didn’t want anything to do with those animals, at least for a while.

Flora looked at her Princess in concern, eyeing the goblet in front of her.

“That bad?” Flora pried some information in their secluded rooms, changing the Princess into her evening gown, a beautiful amber and golden piece with open shoulders and an elegant cleavage line. Flora outdid herself again with her hair, her braids held together with a dazzling and intricate piece of jewelry that glinted with the torche’s lights, part of a matching set of earrings and a necklace that gracefully accentuated the Princess’ delicate neck. Flora thought the entire ensemble matched the Chief’s golden hair.

Eva had explained a bit of what had happened, her more intimate and personal thoughts, and some details of the Chief’s gentleness that surprised her. Flora squealed in delight at those, her hopeless romantic heart beating wildly on those stories.

“That bad.”

“Well, this time you will be more prepared if the Chief asks you for a dance.” Eva sighed at that, recalling how youthful his face had been in his bout of mischievousness at the dance. Is this what awaited her? A husband who enjoyed torturing his wife’s poor nerves?

“I hope he doesn’t.”

He did.

Her lungs burned from the strain, not used at all at the Eldian dancing pace and rhythm. It was frenetic, lively and Eva was not prepared for the whirlwind that was dancing with the Chief, with his massive hands on her waist and back, picking and twirling her up in the air. Eva tried to enjoy it this time.

The Chief saw the Princess’ eyes shine like her jewels in the Great Hall’s fires, cheeks rosy and lips parted to take much needed air as the dance ended. Erwin understood now the allure of dancing.

Bowing as the couples parted and gave room to newer, fresher ones, the Chief took the Princess back to the table, guiding her with her hand delicately posed on his raised one. Eva was surprised when the Chief pulled her chair back and pushed it in its place again when she was seated, as if he was a servant. Flora watched the exchange with raised brows, trying to swallow the piece of meat and bread without making an uncouth spectacle.

Eva went straight for her goblet, trying to avoid the Chief’s attention and quickly looking with a bewildered stare at her handmaiden.

“Well, that was unexpected.” Flora chewed through a piece of bread.

“Everything about him so far is unexpected.” Eva cleaned her mouth elegantly with the napkin, leaving it neatly folded on top of the table; she doubted she would eat more.

She had to admit the stag was… delicious.

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it Princess? It can be a good sign!”

“I hope you are right. It just… puzzles me. How am I supposed to act, then?”

Flora cleaned her mouth with her own napkin too, leaving her food temporarily aside in favour of turning towards her Princess.

“Like yourself, my Princess.” Flora’s hand squeezed her wrist, a smile on her lips. “Maybe this is the perfect opportunity to be yourself.”

“B-but I am–” Herself? She was herself… right?

“This is not Gottesreich, Your Highness. Don’t let it ruin your experience and new life here.”

“It wouldn’t ruin…” Eva stopped there, sighing. Maybe she was right. Maybe the wine made her more agreeable to her less respectable thoughts. “I’ll… try.”

“That’s my Princess.” Flora smiled smugly, hand going for her goblet. Eva let a tiny laugh escape her, soft and low, shaking her body, but her lips pulled into a smile, too.

She did not know or notice the Chief had turned his head towards her when he heard the Princess laugh, surprised to hear it. He found it beautiful, a soft chime and gentle. It was fitting for her. The Chief was distracted from his thoughts and musings when one of his warriors approached him, leaning into his ear as he delivered an urgent message.

The Chief’s face became serious, his posture in the chair too, and he signaled with his hand to proceed with his orders. The same warrior came back with a newcomer, not an Eldian but a Gottesreichan messenger. He wore the Kingdom’s emblem on the chest, and with his clothes and squalid body shape, he clearly was not a fighter. The villagers eating and dancing did not notice the foreigner coming in, blending perfectly behind the rows of chairs and tables, guided by the Eldian warrior that went to fetch him.

Eva’s smile fell when she looked around the room and saw him, recognising from a mile away the symbol of her home. Her eyes snapped to the man’s hands, clutching a satchel close to his chest.

Why was a messenger here? Did something happen?

Eva turned to the Chief, his expression an unreadable one, but his mouth was a thin line. Frowning and unhappy with her findings, Eva turned to her brothers, in time to see the messenger make a beeline towards the Crown Prince and open the satchel to hand in a sealed letter.

Time seemed to slow down, the tension palpable. Prince Hans carefully opened the seal of his father and read the letter, his frown deepening the longer he read. His mouth morphed into a displeased, angry line, as he slapped it on Friederich’s awaiting hand. Eva did not know if she preferred it or not, but Friederich was much more expressive, letting out angry huffs and retorts, going as far as to curse before throwing the letter on top of the table. Eva looked at her brothers with worry, leaning into her chair towards them. Hans looked like he was burning holes into the magnificent oak table they were dining in, the vein in his temple pulsing.

Eva was deeply concerned. This was bad. This reaction was troubling.

Was the Kingdom under attack? Was Father okay? Did something happen? The crops? The fields…? She needed to know.

“Brothers,” both Princes avoided their sister’s eyes, mouth’s pulling further down. “What is the issue? Is the Kingdom– is Father–?”

Moblit appeared right behind them, cutting Eva’s string of questions and trying to be as gentle and understanding of the brother’s sudden change of mood over the contents of the letters. He apologised countless times, inquiring if the contents of the letter affected Eldia and if the Chief had to be informed of anything. The words coming from Prince Hans’ mouth froze Eva inside.

“Father requested for our presence back at Court.”

Eva was going to be sick.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t requested us sooner, or that he told us to come back the same day of our arrival.” Friederich’s words were full of poison.

Flora lowered her head as she tightly closed her mouth and tried to be as silent as possible. She did not need to turn to her right to see Eva’s devastated face tearing her heart into pieces. This was the final blow for her beloved Princess, a truly unnecessary one. Couldn’t the King truly not wait…?

“My deepest apologies, Your Highnesses, these are the most unfortunate news.” Moblit scrambled to make better of the situation, but he needed to express his concern for the upcoming events they should have been present in. “But we expected to have your presence in your sister’s welcoming ceremony, as we have done today with–”

“I know, Moblit. I know. I’m not happy about this.” Prince Hans bit his tongue, not wanting to lash out at the poor Eldian interpreter. He was more than helpful, Hans was not being that. “Selfish bastard.” he muttered, the words his father wrote angering him further. Moblit forced himself to keep threading through such boiling waters.

“When does King Nikolaus expect your return?”

“In two days.”

“Oh.” Moblit did not comment about King Nikolaus' whims; it was well known he often demanded almost impossible things just to bark at the mistakes later. The journey from Eldia to Gottesreich was four days, three if you wanted to kill your horses from exhaustion, a week if you took it slow and travelled in carriages. “Should I ask for the horses and carriages to be ready to part tonight? Although I would advise not to travel at night, the roads are dangerous in winter.”

“That won’t be necessary, Moblit, thank you kindly. We will part tomorrow morning and won’t rush it. We’ll keep the old man waiting and use the weather as an excuse.”

Moblit nodded. Ballsy move, but Moblit guessed being the Crown Prince gave him a little bit of leverage to bend some situations in his favour. He still thought it was a good decision, even more not letting himself be choked into his Father’s rule that easily.

“Our warriors will accompany you to the borders, please allow us to.”

Knowing Moblit wouldn’t bulge about it, Prince Hans nodded.

Friederich was far too enraged to comment anything else about it, leaving it all to his brother as he clenched his fists in indignation.

Apologising once again, Moblit took his leave, letting the brothers deal with their bitterness and fury, and walking to the Chief to deliver the bad news he surely got an idea of, judging by the displeased expressions of the brothers and the broken, vacant one of the Princess.

Moblit spoke in an urgent tone to the Chief, the Eldian leader nodding and switching his gaze from one sibling to another. His gaze fell on the Princess, frown deepening upon her state. Eva felt the music and laughter far away from her, as if she was sitting in a different room with closed doors and windows. It was harder to breathe, to see, vision blurring, and the trembling in her hands returned violently. She clutched tightly her dress skirt, no doubt wrinkling it in such a way that Flora and the Eldian maidens would surely have a hard time getting rid of, but she needed something to try to desperately anchor herself to the present.

All color had drained from her face.

Her brothers were leaving.

Eva felt as if she had her feet sweeped off the ground, even though she was sitting down in a chair.

They were leaving.

Too soon.

Too soon.

She was going to be alone with Flora, left in the middle of a land of savage demons.

Alone.

Helpless.

Afraid.

Forsaken.

[bonvoyagenoona]

Why are your characters so misogynistic? Like you try to pass it off as comedy but it's not funny. Like you're obviously aware of it because you'll address it in your fics, but like they'll say horrible shit about women and really blatantly sexist stuff and you never add any character development. Idk it's just weird to see.

Hi anon! Definitely had a whole cast of misogynistic characters in Hideaway and Matchmaker, and there are definitely elements in the AMOMK universe that are misogynistic, what with the brothers sometimes puffing their chests out about their conquests or bragging about themselves. I can even think of the beginning of shorter fics, like Finger Hearts, in which Jin makes some bold and self-aggrandizing claims from a misogynistic point of view. This isn't misogyny, but I even wrote a very unsavory Y/N in Kittenfishing, where she's a straight-up stalker. People have shared in comments for these fics that it has sometimes been very challenging to read.

But, like you mentioned, I do address them in my fics, and those same readers who shared similar comments have also shared that these characters do develop over time, or, at the very least, these readers have developed some empathy, even if those characters are arguably undeserving of it.

I've shared in the past that I wrote Matchmaker as one way to reflect and process what it has been like as a woman working in a traditionally male-dominated field, with other characters visibly frustrated with Jungkook's nonsense and, as someone else mentioned in feedback, "asshattery". In Hideaway, the entire group still has tons of growing to do, and I'm working to share even more character growth in the spin-offs, starting with Jimin (spin-off title: Breakaway) and Jungkook (spin-off title: Faraway). In Finger Hearts, Jin eventually realizes that his same old spiel isn't really helping him progress in his life and his new relationship. And in AMOMK, which will be written steadily over this entire year, there are going to be some big conversations about this very point.

Like with all my fics, I've pulled situations from real life, often inserting dialogue that has been said directly to me, or that have come up in conversations that I've had with others. Many of those moments unfortunately did not come with happy resolution, which is partially why I chose to write about them. I'm also very mindful about screening my future fics (namely my WIP Ficdrunk, which will focus on Y/N and her best friend!) against checks like the Bechdel test.

The characters I've mentioned above are not stellar, and all are still growing. Also, though I explore these themes to varying degrees, there isn't always going to be resolution. I totally understand if my voice is not your cup of tea, and thank you for reading what you have read! But if you do still have an interest in my work, I hope you'll find that my fics, drabbles, and ask responses are supportive, diverse, inclusive, celebratory -- but above all, purposeful.

I also just want to point out that I appreciate you bringing up this discussion! Like I always say, I absolutely love talking about writing! Whether you continue to read with me or not, I'm very grateful for the time you've spent in these worlds!

[lightlycareless]

lmao i don’t agree much with that comment, like we’re all allowed our own opinions but i guess i’d get it more if the story was a shorter one but it’s obviously not going to be (which i love) and y/n is coming from a pretty sheltered background from my understanding.. like 🤷‍♀️ i’ve loved the pacing so far of the story and with the events that y/n has been through since coming to the estate i find shes been handling it the best she can rn. ofc she didnt come to the estate being a mastermind????

Heya anon!! Thank you for sending an ask 🥺❤️

I'm super happy you're liking the story so far hehe, so buckle up cause we still got more to go through!!

Also, I literally just posted my response to that comment when I got this ask lol so I'm not sure if you got to see my insight on their opinion (which you're more than welcome to read it :3) but if you have, just ignore this part hehe

More stuff under the cut, cause it's somewhat long I'm sorry I guess I'm just venting hahah

I don't want to go ahead and say that this person was ill-intended, of course not! Everyone is entitled to their opinions at the end of the day and I'm grateful they feel comfortable enough to share their thoughts with me, but their comment just reminded me of the whole Padme didn't love her children discourse in the SW fandom.

It's kind of the same misogynistic mentality where they expect the woman to kind of just... forget their individualism and offer their entire life for the good of others (Luke and Leia for Padme — Mai, Mai, the staff and I guess even Naoaki for Y/N) while the men get a pass, you know?

Like, Padme saw the love of her life turn to the dark side and all that she fought for (the republic) basically disappear, things that would obviously affect her physically and mentally, and yet, there's people that call her a bad mother/person because she died (NOT LIKE SHE WAS CHOKED BY HER HUSBAND WHILE HEAVILY PREGNANT BUT OK). I'm just like damn, she is entitled to her own suffering you know? And it's not like she gave her life away for the greater good of the republic but go off.

To expect Y/N to be some kind of activist/martyr is unfair to her own duel—and while there are victims that have taken their experiences as some kind of motivation to speak for those who can't, it's just... not realistic to expect all victims to be capable of standing for themselves. If I were to meet someone like Y/N, I would offer her my support, instead of demand her to do shit for others just because she allegedly can. (guess we forgot Naoya basically blocked her from the outside world and the rest of the estate too 🤔 oh, and the execution too 😒)

And yes, she was raised in a sheltered household thanks to the efforts of her close relatives (who knew how fucked up the world is out there) as well as just turning 18 before getting married. Like, she hasn't experienced the world, you know? However, this is actually something I plan to explore a bit more in the next chapters so that's all I'm going to say about it hahaha.

Besides... in a society as sexist as the ones we've seen in the fictional world of jujutsu kaisen (as well as in real life) women more often than not, just held titles out of formalities and the power they held is nothing compared to their male counterparts.

Rest assured, if it were that easy, Y/N would've done it:

She's already demonstrated that she cares about her surroundings and is less than thrilled on how the Zen'in men behave (Fuyue, the servant she saved from Meiko, how she was cognizant enough to separate the acts of her husband from Naoaki, thus, starting to develop a friendship between the two, understanding Mariya's POV as well as how it was illogical of her to expect her staff to drop everything to help her when they had their own problems to worry about, THE APPRECIATION OF JUNKO, THE MOTHER OF MAI AND MAKI) but she's also deserving of nice things!!!

This story has been really difficult to write in that sense, but in the end, just shows how certain stories aren't always smooth sailing.

p.s. imagine if she was the mastermind tho? y/n be like "I made Naoaki and Naoya my bitches so the Zen'in clan will be mine!!"

Also, it's fiction. Not everything has to be super realistic. Just sit back and enjoy the show 😎✨ after all, we still have the rest of the story to go through.

And to live through the wise words of Valentina:

[calaofnoldor]

Sixth Time’s the Charm [1]

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean, OCs

Words: 1,550

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you.

Chapter Summary: Dean asks you to flirt with a cop for info. Sam is not pleased.

Warnings: jealous!sam, protective!sam, huffy!sam, badass!reader, exasperated squirrel, mutual pining, idiots in love, tropesss

A/N: this is part one of a six-part mini series that is essentially an amalgamation of all the jealous/protective tropes. sorry not sorry?

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The first time was an impromptu experiment. Of course, Dean already knew Sam had a crush on you; he raised the kid for crying out loud. That and the way Sam had stumbled over his own tongue and feet the first time they encountered you (and nearly every time thereafter) made it quite obvious to everyone… well, except you, apparently. Regardless, Dean figured it was just the case of a simple crush and poor Sammy being unable to match his finesse with the ladies.

So when the three of you came across a sleazy police captain, who was in no way shy about having the hots for you, during a rugaru hunt in Nebraska, Dean was rather taken aback by his brother’s unusual reaction.

Strolling into the Omaha police department with you and Sam on either side, the older Winchester had identified the captain immediately from his picture online.

“Captain Anderson,” Dean addressed the man directly in a low, authoritative tone, “I’m Agent Parker, and these are my partners Agents Stan and Lee.” He motioned to his right and left side as he introduced you, accordingly, pausing as you flashed your fake badges in unison.

The captain was a tall, slightly rotund fellow, with a mustache to rival an 80’s porn star’s, and he scoffed haughtily at your entrance. “What the hell do the feds want with us? And did they really hafta send three of ya?” He gestured pointedly at you with a patronizing raise of his chin and your blood began to boil at the implicitly misogynistic remark.

“Well no offense, Captain,” you spoke up; your FBI get-up always gave you an extra boost of confidence (something about the power suit vibes you supposed), plus men like him really pissed you off, “but there have been five deaths here within the last week, and from what I understand, your team has a grand total of zero working theories and just as many leads, so perhaps you can understand why the government would show some concern.”

“Mm, mm, mm!” Captain Anderson chanted obnoxiously in response. He gave you a painfully slow once-over, eyes filled with a crude and unrestrained lechery that forced a shiver down your spine. “A woman who knows how to take charge… I like that,” he licked his lips lasciviously.

Dean was torn between awaiting your likely ruthless and epic comeback or telling the douchebag off himself when he heard Sam clear his throat forcedly beside him. Looking over, he was surprised to find his giant of a little brother to be a picture of rage. Strained jaw, clenched fists, distended chest, and a murderous glare directed unwaveringly at the Omaha police captain.

Meanwhile, you were finding it difficult to resist the urge to roll your eyes and repress your temper to maintain a professional front. “We need information and clearance,” you stated firmly, ignoring the cop’s inappropriate and debaucherous display, “Are you going to hand it over or not?”

“Sorry little miss, no can do! You’re prolly gonna hafta talk to the chief if you want in on a big boy case like this one… but, you know, I can think of some ways you might be able to convince me otherwise,” he finished with a lewd wink before taking off.

Sam looked like he was about to lunge at the captain, but Dean put a hand on his arm to ground him. He was starting to suspect Sam’s behavior might have more to do with you than the fact that the captain was a regular dickhead. After all, Sam was usually the calmer and more rational of the brothers, especially during hunts.

You were too busy holding yourself back to notice though, staring daggers into Anderson’s back as you watched him walk away.

“What an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N,” Dean began. An idea was forming in his head, one that could help him test his theory. “Look, you know I wouldn’t ask this if there was a better way, but dyou think, maybe, just this once, you could… you know? Turn on the charm a bit? Just so we can get in?”

Sam had not been fully engaged in the conversation until just then, too focused on trying to mollify the inexplicable rage that Captain Anderson had incited within him, but Dean’s request certainly caught his attention.

“What?! Dean! You can’t be serious. No. We’ll find another way. Just- No.” Sam’s voice was harder and deeper than usual and for a moment you lost yourself in it, daydreaming that perhaps he was exhibiting a sense of jealously. But who were you kidding? Sam was just a nice guy who detested sexist pricks like Anderson; this had nothing to do with you.

“No, it’s fine. Dean’s right. This is the easiest way. I’ll do it,” you stated quietly before adding with a small smile, “I can suck it up on account of saving some lives.”

Dean grinned and you walked away before Sam could protest any further. When you reached the captain’s office, you didn’t bother knocking on the open door, “Alright, Captain Anderson-“

“Please, call me Frank.” He looked up at you with such a smug and revolting expression, you decided there was no way you could follow through with Dean’s plan.

“Listen, Frank,” you crossed your arms in what you hoped was an ‘I mean business’ stance, but quickly dropped them when you realized the action had unwittingly highlighted your cleavage in the button-down blouse you were wearing and spurred yet another round of gratuitous leering from Frank. “What’s it gonna take for you to hand over the case files and grant us full access to the evidence and crime scenes?”

“Well, since I like you, I’ll make it easy for ya. How about we start with a smile?” He had leaned forward in his seated position behind his desk as he spoke, and you almost smacked him right then.

As you turned to leave, however, it was Anderson who smacked you, open palmed and right on the ass. You forced yourself to take a deep breath before slowly turning back around. Keeping your movements deliberate and unhurried, you bent over his desk, ignoring the impulse to gag at the greasy, utterly unholy scent that filled your nostrils as you got close enough to whisper in his ear, “You know what, I’ll make it easy for you too. How about, if you give my partners and I complete authorization on this case, I won’t report you to the feds for sexual harassment? See, I know people in the upper ranks and I’ve got a lawyer who wipes the floor with guys like you on the daily.” It was all lies, of course, but you figured it was for a good cause.

“So what’s it gonna be, Captain?” You asked after straightening yourself back up.

As you’d hoped, the bastard was looking a little worse for wear, though you could tell he was trying to retain what little he could of his arrogant persona. “You little bitch.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine. You can have it,” he pointed at a stack of file folders on his desk, and then sighed as he produced three security passes, “Go crazy! Go fuck yourself.”

“Gladly,” you sassed, ready to strut out of there with everything you came for in hand.

Behind you, things had not gone so smoothly. When Sam saw Anderson slapping your butt, he was fully prepared to march over and break the captain’s nose, but Dean again held him back, “Woah, hey, you know Y/N can handle herself. What’s up with you?”

Then when he was forced to watch you lean in tantalizingly close and whisper something in Anderson’s ear, Sam experienced an entirely foreign sensation. He was still burning with fury, but that anger was joined by a peculiar ache. His heart had risen to his throat as he stood there, completely transfixed, a look of dejection and longing written across his face.

‘Huh,’ Dean had thought with an internal smirk, ‘Sammy’s got it ba-ad!’ he sing-song-ed in his own head, storing the information away for later, when he could find an opportune moment to tease his baby brother about it.

For now, Dean gave you two thumbs up as he watched you return with a triumphant grin, holding up three official passes by their lanyards.

“Got it all. We’re completely in,” you supplied each brother a security pass when you reached them.

“Damn. You are good, woman! What did you even say to him?” Dean chuckled as the three of you left the station.

“Oh nothing, just a bit of light threatening.”

Sam stopped to look at you quizzically. “Wait, what? You mean you didn’t- you weren’t… flirting with him?”

“Nah, I was too appalled by the thought to go down that route.”

“Oh,” he huffed out, looking down with drooped shoulders and an awkward twitch of a smile. You could have sworn he looked somewhat relieved, but decided not to read too much into it, too pleased with yourself to allow the ever-growing gloom of your unrequited love dampen your spirits.

The whole time Dean was staring back at the two of you in disbelief. ‘These goddamn idiots,’ he thought with an exasperated yet slightly amused shake of his head.

→ CARRY ON

thanks so much for reading! feedback always appreciated 💞

[youngbeezer]

May i please have a hurt/comfort fic with jujhar khaira? Like the reader got yelled at by their boss and is upset about it? That man is so damn beautiful and I want him to COMFORT ME DAMN IT 💀

A/N: oh my gosh anon im so sorry this literally took me forever to finish. life has started to catch up to me a little so i havent had much time to write (also had very little motivation), but here it is,,,

thank you for requesting, i hope you like it :)

Word Count: 1177

Warning(s): curse words, toxic work environment, i also dont know that much about jujhar so i hope i portrayed him okay!!!

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I try to hold back on the lingering tears that threaten to spill out as I make my way back to my office cubicle. I just got out of one of the worst meetings I think I have ever taken part in. My boss gave me a total chewing out in front of some of our higher board members, totally embarrassing me and making me look like a horrible employee. He also gave me such an unrealistic expectation for an assignment that he wants me to have finished by tomorrow morning.

Once I tried explaining how unreasonable that was (in the most polite way possible), he then went on to go around the entire table and point out how much better every other employee is compared to me.

So yeah. My day’s been complete shit.

The thing is though, my boss is just a sexist, misogynistic man. I work my ass off every single day I am in this office, finishing all my work on time, putting in extra hours, and even making stupid coffee runs for the board members (filled with all men). But nothing I do seems to make my boss happy.

I shield my face with my hair when my coworkers walk past me. I can hear their hushed whispers and feel their judgmental stares piercing through me. I let out a huff when they walk away and start counting down the seconds until I get to leave this hellhole.

And as soon as that clock hits 4:00PM, I grab my purse and practically sprint out of there.

When I get far enough away from the building, the waterworks begin. And they don’t stop even when I pull into the driveway of the apartment I share with my boyfriend.

And it seems like the tears blurred my vision enough that I totally didn’t notice that Jujhar’s car was in the lot, since as soon as I opened the door I am startled to find my boyfriend lounging on the couch.

It seems as if I alarmed him as well when I unintentionally slammed the door behind me, since he’s immediately making his way to my side.

“What happened?!” Jujhar panicked, grabbing a hold of my tear stricken face to make sure I wasn’t hurt at all.

A little scowl crosses my face when the thought of my horrible day passes through my mind again. “I hate my boss.” I pout out.

Jujhar’s face hardened at my words before he questioned, “What did he do this time?”

“He completely embarrassed me in front of all the board members and made me look like a worthless employee.”

“What a dick.” I hear Jujhar mutter underneath his breath. He squeezes my shoulders reassuringly before leading me into our bedroom. “Why don’t you get changed into some comfy clothes and come back into the living room and we can talk a little more about everything. Or we could just watch a movie or something if you aren’t up to talking.”

I bring him into a much needed hug and sigh contently in his arms. “Ok. I’ll be right out.”

Jujhar gives me a reassuring smile as he makes his way out of the bedroom to let me change.

After changing into a pair of sleep shorts and one of Jujhar’s Oilers sweatshirts, I make my way back into the living room and flop down into the seat next to my boyfriend. He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer into his body.

“Wanna talk about it?” He cautions, running his fingers gently across my back.

I let out a sigh and relaxed forward into Jujhar’s body before responding. “I just don’t know what to do. Nothing I do is ever right and I feel like I am just wasting my talent since it’s obviously not appreciated there.”

Jujhar lets me go on my little rant and waits until I am fully finished to respond. He makes sure to look me directly in the eye when he voices out,

“Fuck them.”

I can’t help but let out a little snort at my boyfriend’s abrupt answer. He laughs along a little before sputtering out, “I’m serious! If they can’t see how amazing and hardworking you are, then fuck them. Seriously babe. You are the smartest and most beautiful woman I have ever met, and you do not deserve to be treated like that and have your talent be wasted away in that hellhole.”

I rest my head on Jujhar’s shoulder and question out, “So, what do I do?”

“Quit.”

That gains my attention, and my head snaps right back up to give my boyfriend wide eyes. “I can’t just quit.” I gaped.

“Why not? The work environment is so toxic and you hate it there. And you said it yourself that you feel like your talent and hardwork is being undermined. So why not quit and we can find a place that will suit and better appreciate you.” He says it so calmly and determinedly that it actually makes me think that I should just go for it.

“What if I can’t find another job quickly?” I worry. I don’t want him to think that I am going to become dependable on him and take advantage of his hard worked for money.

He gives me a little smile, seemingly knowing what I am thinking. “Babe you do not have to worry about that. I want you to take your time in finding the job that you think will best suit you. No matter what, I am going to be right here by your side.”

Once more, tears threaten to spill from my eyes. But this time they are tears of happiness and admiration for the man sitting in front of me.

“You know I love you right?”

Jujhar just smiles in return and leans in closer to bring our lips together. The kiss is sweet and gentle, just like the moment we just shared. It lets him know just how grateful I am for his kind words and having someone like him in my life. Jujhar always knows exactly what to say to make me feel better and get my emotions back on track.

When our lips break apart, I rest my forehead on his to keep in close proximity, while also knowing there are no other words that need to be spoken at this moment.

It’s definitely a scary thought to quit that job that I have stuck with for the past two years and start moving onto new things. But these new things are going to hopefully be bigger and better and will work out to be more beneficial for the future. And knowing that I am going to have Jujhar right here by my side the entire time makes it all seem a little less scary.

“I love you too.” Jujhar whispers out, our foreheads still resting against each other.

I take one ast deep breath before putting some distance between our bodies. I give him a giant grin and mused, “Let’s do this.”

taglist: @heatherawoowoo @barzysandmarnersbitch @joelsfarabees @barzy-xoxo @hockeyplayerstories @handwrittenheroes

tagging some mutuals as well,,, @bb-nhlqueen7 @frederikanderson @carepriceisgoodathockey @lovereadinghockeyy @prettyboycozens @prettyboyjackhughes @2manytabsopen @joekellys @jamiesdrysdales

[beigehearts]

The Price of Self Respect

Read part one here! Read part two here!

PART III CW: mentions of kidnapping, alcohol, drugs, crude language, physical trauma

Let me know if you want a part 4!

1,873 words

____________________________________________

The first thing that comes to mind on dreary morning like these, where the rain trickles down the window and sun hides itself from the world: what started this all? What made you decide to become a hunter? What made you decide to become a freelance hunter? What made you decide to become a freelance assassin? While the answer was easy, a fucked up childhood, you still wondered. Was your first mistake becoming a hunter? Or was your first mistake killing? 

A sigh escapes your lips, rolling off of them with practice. Your leg is still covered in the nen cloths. If it weren’t for the myriad of illicit pain medications you are on, you would probably still be doubled over in pain. The bruise that is your entire abdomen has bloomed into a beautiful yellow and red. You felt that Picasso would be happy to use your abdomen as reference. 

You no longer reside in that dingy cave-like area, where you were surely deprived of vitamin-D. The Phantom Troupe has moved, where did the whole group go? You did not know. Chrollo and yourself occupate a small cabin in the middle of no where. Middle of no where and you have no idea where no where is. You have been bed ridden, laying in bed staring out the window, being served food and entertainment. Speaking of, you glance over to the stack of books in the corner of the room, it’s about time for another book. The thought of Chrollo needing to give you everything does upset you, feeling so helpless. You’ve been on your own for so long that needing someone is torture. 

You swing your legs off of the bed, and hobble towards the bathroom. If you were going to be helpless you would at least keep your dignity. Chrollo has offered many times to help you to the bathroom but you would rather rebreak your leg than that. At this point though there were so many medications in your system that you could barely feel anything from the waist down. Sure you risked falling and breaking your face but again, you will not give up your dignity. It’s only been about two weeks here, though sitting in bed staring out a window makes you feel every single second that passes. 

Finally you reach the bathroom that’s on the other side of the bed. Though you don’t lay on that side. Oh yeah, you almost forgot, there’s a catch to this moment of peace. You sleep in the same bed as Chrollo. It definitely took getting used to, and you’re still not quite used to it. The first night was hell. 

You scooted yourself down on the bed so you were under the covers, instead of the position you sat in to read. You reached over to the lamp on the bedside table and turned it off. You sigh with relief, finally not sleeping on rocky ground, and finally you had some medication to ease the pain. Most of it anyway. Once you finally shut your eyes, you heard footsteps. You chalked it up to your kidnapper checking in on you, making sure you were still kidnapped. 

Then it happened, the bed sheets rustled and you felt a weight next to your own. You sat up as quickly as you could with a broken leg, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He turned over to you, “Sleeping, what does it look like?” 

“Looks like you’re sleeping next to a helpless girl.” You growled at him. 

“There’s no heat in this cabin, I looked for any sign of heating besides a fireplace and there was none. This is our best way of survival.” He stated as if it were obvious.

You grimaced. “It’s not exactly freezing cold outside.”

He gave you a look which said more than words could in the moment, and that was the end of the conversation.

You allow yourself to reminisce in the memory once you sit back down from the bathroom, though you don’t get to do so for too long. The bedroom door creaks open, Chrollo opening it gently. He wore his fur coat and carried a tray with fruits and a soup. He closes the door behind him with his foot, wanting to keep the heat of the crackling fireplace in the room. 

You nod at the tray in his hands, “Where’d you get the soup?” You ask knowing there was none in this house you have broken into and entered.

In response he offers a smile. “I see you didn’t finish your book.” 

He lays the tray next to you on the bed, and sits down in the rocking chair next to the fireplace. 

“It was boring. I’m not interested in a misogynist’s philosophies.” You cross your arms, now realizing that it is cold as the drugs ware off some. 

Chrollo chuckles, “I agree, he was not the most agreeable man. Much too sexist for my liking.” He rocks back and forth in the chair, creating a methodical creaking that you count off in your head. Creak crack, creak crack, creak crack...

Silence befalls the both of you, you have learned that Chrollo enjoys his silence. He would rather sit in hours of silence than hours of passionless conversation. After what feels like hours, and may have been hours, Chrollo walks over to the stack of books, he thumbs a book out of it. “How would you feel about a glass of wine y/n?” 

A smile almost presses itself against your lips but you stop it, “That doesn’t sound half bad.” 

Forty-five minutes later, you’re on your third glass of medicinal wine while Chrollo serenades you with the words of a book you’ve already read. He gently swishes the wine in his glass before taking a sip, and finishing off the chapter. His reading had almost lulled you into a light sleep but just the gentle sound of the book shutting snaps you awake. 

“What time is it?” You mumble, and realize there’s still half a glass of wine in your hand. You go to sip it but a hand beats you to it, and slips it from your fingers.

Chrollo places the glass on a table out of reach, “I know you’re not a light weight, but I think the medication and three glasses were enough.” 

You frown and throw your head back. The wisest of choices for a girl who just had half a bottle of wine, and is laying on a bed with a wooden bed frame. there’s a loud crack sound and pain instantly blossoms in the back of your head. “God damn!” You hiss and sit up with your legs off of the bed. You rub the back of your head and groan.

You glance up and see Chrollo who almost looks dumbfounded, until he starts laughing. “The fuck are you laughing at? Get out of my way.” You bark at him.

Without much thought you stand up, but manage to keep your balance. You didn’t realize how close that Chrollo was standing next to you, you tilt your head up and find that you can feel his breath. 

“Go ahead and lay back down y/n. You’re still healing.” He manages to say between some laughter. His hands fall upon your shoulders but you grab his wrists before he tries to push you back to the bed. 

You grip his wrists as if about to make a plea, “I’m tired of this bed, I want to see the rest of the house.” Your eyes meet his, “Let me look around.” 

He seems to understand without further explanation, he offers his arm for you to hold onto, and begrudgingly you accept his offer. 

The house is much bigger than you were expecting. You didn’t understand how this wasn’t just someone’s home and not their ‘villa’. As Chrollo had put it. He chose a good house to occupy for a while, you had to give him that. 

The roof is high up, with wooden beams lining the ceiling. The kitchen is grandiose and has marble counter tops, you looked through all of the cabinets and found no sign of soup. The tour for the rest of the house was as expected, overly expensive and too much time has been put into a house that’s used once a year for maybe two weeks. 

The small walk about tired you out immensely, you were only able to use one leg and someone else’s arm to get around. Chrollo helps you sit down on the couch of the main room, and sits down next to you. 

Chrollo seems comfortable, as if this were any other day for him. You begin to wonder if it is just another day. Suddenly you feel a pet on your head, and then another one. Is this man... petting you? You look to his face and see his eyes trained on you, his other hand reaching for your face. 

Is it your extreme desperation for affection that you’ve been missing all these years, or was that wine stronger than you thought? When his lips reach your own, you make no move to stop him, no move to stop him at all. A hand grabs your chin, and another grabs the thigh of your unbroken leg to pull you towards him. You hiss out in pain at the sudden movement jostling your still injured leg and he whispers something of a sorry on your lips. You had slept with people for your missions before, but for some reason this made your lips burn, it made your heart pound, how it never did before. 

But you feel sense snap into you and you raise your hand between both of your faces. “This isn’t going to happen Chrollo. I won’t succumb to stockholm syndrome. No, I won’t” You state as if only reassuring yourself. Before you can get anything else you’re stopped in your tracks when he begins kissing the palm of your hand, small and enticing kisses. 

“Oh y/n. You continue to surprise me everyday.” He sighs and flops against the back of the couch, “I’m not sure a woman has ever denied me.” He claims.

You raise an eyebrow- the mood suddenly lifting, “So you’re a ladies man huh?” 

He scoffs, “Hardly, no more of a ladies man than I need to be for missions.” 

You can’t help but to smile, the tone between you has changed. From captor and victim to old friends. This is looking bad for you. Will you be able to say no next time?

[bluenet13]

As Tears Go By

Written for @badthingshappenbingo​

Fandom: NCIS Los Angeles

Characters: Marty Deeks, Kensi Blye.

Prompt: Trying Not to Cry

Summary: Losing his job at LAPD forces Deeks to make comparisons to the one man he never wants to feel similar to. But sometimes all that is needed is some perspective, and luckily Kensi is there to help. (Set in December of season 12, after Deeks is fired from LAPD and before Hetty offers him a position at FLETC).

Links: ff.net - AO3

"Hey baby, I'm almost ready." Pants on but still in her bra, Kensi continued to towel dry her hair as she walked outside of the bathroom. Stopping shortly as she noticed Deeks still in bed. "Why aren't you ready? Are you feeling alright?"

Not able to ignore her concern any longer, Kensi reached a hand towards her husband's forehand, looking for signs of a fever that weren't going to be there. Deeks' disinterest when she had offered to shower together should have been a red flag but she had decided to play it cool and accept his explanation that he had taken a late shower when he came home from tending the bar. But now, finding the usual early riser and basically Santa's little helper still tangled in their bed sheets when they were supposed to be going out to pick their tree, Kensi realized she was missing something.

Mumbling something to himself, Deeks swatted Kensi's hand away and turned to stare at the opposite side of the room. "I'm okay," he eventually whispered, his words understandable this time around.

Nodding and sighing at the same time, Kensi tried to tamper down her emotions, walking back to the bathroom and continuing to get dressed. Maybe Deeks was really tired and just needed five more minutes.

Dressed and ready, Kensi picked his pants that accentuated his body in all the right places and the blue sweatshirt she loved as it made the color in his eyes bright even shinier, and dropped the clothes on the bed, partially over Deeks so he would get the hint, then left the room to make some coffee. Hoping the scent of fresh brew would do the trick and push Deeks out of bed.

Thirty minutes, two cups of coffee, and three pastries later, Kensi gave up hoping time would be enough, and decided to take matters into her own hands. "Hey Deeks, I brought you a coffee," Kensi said as she came into the room.

Mumbling again, Deeks pointed to the nightstand with disinterest, promptly dropping his arm back into the bed.

At a loss of what else to try, Kensi sat on the bed and began playing with Deeks' blonde locks. "Baby, what's going on? Talk to me. Did something happen at the bar? Are you feeling unwell?"

"I'm okay, Kens," Deeks said, doing his best to sound more convincing this time, but still continuing to stare at the wall, practically raising an invisible wall in between them, and now raising a million red flags in Kensi's mind.

"Then what's going on? Last week you kept going on and on about picking the best and biggest tree in the lot. You even wanted to get it before Thanksgiving and I had to convince you to wait a little bit longer. Now, you don't even want to get out of bed. So, what's happening here? What am I missing?" Kensi's tone had gone lower with each new word, her last question barely above a whisper. "Please, baby, let me in. Let me help." She added after some minutes had passed and Deeks hadn't spoken a single word.

"I just don't think we should be spending money on a tree right now," Deeks admitted softly.

"What? Why n...?" Kensi cut her question short as realization dawned on her. Deeks was a jokester but he felt things strongly and his emotions ran deeper than most. "Is this about LAPD? Deeks, we already spoke about that, we know it's temporary."

"And what if it isn't?" Deeks asked with a pained exhale, "we shouldn't be making emotional purchases when we're living on one salary alone. We also want to buy a house and start a family. All that takes money... money we don't have. Especially once my situation becomes permanent, and we both know it probably will. I mean, the only person that could have defended me left to become Commander of SWAT." As if an invisible barrier had lifted with the admission, Deeks finally got out of bed and sat next to Kensi. A hand searching for hers, while the other nervously played with the hem of the sweatshirt Kensi had brought him.

Having finally gotten to the root of the matter, Kensi allowed herself a brief smile to herself, before it turned sad and dejected, as she realized she couldn't offer Deeks the certainty and finality he needed. So she tried what she thought was the next best thing. "I'm sorry about Bates, Deeks. I know he gave you crap constantly but I also know he was good to you when it mattered. Even then, what you mean and what you have done for the LAPD is still true, regardless of your relationship with him, and they're fools if they don't realize what they would be losing if they let you go," Kensi began angrily, then softened her tone. "As for us, the house can wait until your situation is straightened out. We still have my Federal Agent salary. It's not as lucrative working for the government, but it's more than enough to get the tree. It really doesn't cost that much and if anything, it shouldn't be more than the overtime I worked for the last two cases alone."

"Living off my salary's wife is not really how I imagined life would be in my forties," Deeks said, but the harsh nature of his words softened by the way his voice began to break at the end.

"Where is this coming from, Deeks? Since when do you compare yourself to women in that way?" Kensi had other, more hostile words in mind, but her intention was to help Deeks, not start an argument. But his words had brought back old memories of dealing with sexist cops and misogynist men when starting her career in law enforcement, and she would be lying if she said it didn't sting.

Pulling back his hand from Kensi's, Deeks ran it through his face, then over his eyes in frustration. "I'm sorry, Kens. I didn't mean it that way. It's just…" A lump pressed it way up his throat and his eyes glazed over with tears, but he wiped them angrily. "My father also lost his job once. And that's when everything changed," Deeks said in a single exhale. And with his last word, his shoulders sagged, as his eyes began to cloud again and his breath hitched.

And there it was. The real reason behind Deeks' attitude. The honesty and sadness in his words, making Kensi's anger evaporate in a second, because she knew how much it must have hurt Deeks to make that admission.

"Oh, baby, you're nothing like your father." Bidding herself some time to find better words, Kensi pulled Deeks into her arms. Her heart breaking as he tensed at the same time a soft sniff escaped him.

"I might not be. But the situation is." Deeks closed his eyes as he continued, feeling the tears that were already pressing against his lids. "He was never the best father, but he was good and he always tried his best. We were happy. Then one year he lost his job, and at first, he tried again. But eventually he grew frustrated and began taking it on my mom. Then on me. By that time, he had already spent all his nights drinking his savings away at the local bar and there was no going back." When Deeks was done, he opened his eyes again and rubbed them with a heavy sigh.

"Deeks, baby, wait. Your situations are nothing alike. Many people lose their jobs but it's not the end of the line. Just a temporary setback." Not all people lose their jobs and become your father, she wanted to add, but decided against it. Drawing back, she took Deeks by the shoulders and stared at his blue eyes deeply, hoping that in her steady gaze he would find proof to believe her words were nothing but the truth.

"Maybe I'm not drinking it per se, but I saw alcohol destroy my father, and for some time, my mother too. And what did I do? Pour our savings into the very same thing that was my family's downfall." With that admission, Deeks' eyes again filled with tears, but he squeezed them shut, refusing to let any of them fall. As a child he had cried for his father, but as an adult he had promised himself to never shed another tear for the man.

"The Squid and the Dagger is not that. I admit, at first I didn't see it. But now I do. Your bar, our bar... is not a place for drunkards and violent men. It's a place for family, and joy and fun. When have we seen the team out of work so often? When have we spent so much family time with them? Never. Your idea, your dream, did that. It gave us the place we all needed to feel welcomed and at home. It gave Nell and Callen a place to mourn when they lost their mother and father. It gave Sam a place to start a new relationship away from the places he used to frequent with Michelle. It's giving Eric a place to see us and stay close to the team now that he's a billionaire and his calling in life has grown from just doing good with NCIS. It's giving us a new purpose, and a place to have the family we lacked before."

"But, we already have NCIS for that. We have OSP and the boatshed," Deeks tried to argue. Then he sniffed again, eyes burning.

"NCIS is where we work, Deeks. But it's not a home. It took me a long time to realize that. You're my home, and Callen, Sam, Hetty, Eric, Nell, even Fatima, and Roundtree. You taught me that Deeks, you just need to remember." Squeezing Deeks' shoulders, Kensi hoped he could feel the conviction behind her words, because when she had been at her lowest, Deeks had taught her the meaning of home, and she won't let him forget now. "One time you told me that you were already home, but that didn't mean NCIS as a location, it meant the team. It meant us, even if "us" didn't exist at the time in the way it does now. The feeling of home doesn't come from NCIS, but we do live it every day we're at the bar. The Squid and the Dagger means family."

Deeks nodded, but his eyes, the window to his soul, still looked troubled. Clouded not only by the tears he still kept from falling, but its familiar blue, darkened by the memories of his painful past.

Still seeing that uncertainty in Deeks' eyes, Kensi decided to throw a hail mary. "The Squid and the Dagger is not even the type of bar your dad would have frequented. I have the feeling he might have even hated it." Kensi continued to pile her arguments, still hoping the conviction and certainty in her words would help Deeks as much as the meaning behind them. "Plus, it's been a couple years already and we have never even had a fight or incident at the bar."

Deeks chuckled but before he could say anything Kensi beat him to it. "And Callen and Arkady playing pool doesn't count. The game just got a little heated." Deeks' raised eyebrows had been a total giveaway about where his mind had gone and nobody knew him better than Kensi.

"Too bad Callen and Arkady alone can't keep the bar afloat. Maybe if Hetty and Anna joined them. But who knows where they are now." Deeks shrugged sadly, tears still pricking at the corner of his eyes.

"We're coming off a bad year, baby. Stay at home orders sure did a number on the bar, but that's behind us now. Things will only get better from here." Deeks' attempt at a joke was a good sign but Kensi wasn't ready for teasing just yet. She knew Deeks always resorted to humor when talks got too personal, even when things still bothered him, and she was determined to avoid that today.

"And, you're definitely right. Brandel would have really hated The Squid and the Dagger. He wasn't really into the ocean aesthetics and our decorations surely wouldn't have been to his taste." Deeks went right over Kensi's last statement, drawing comfort from the realization her words brought him and choosing to focus on that lighthearted part of her arguments.

"Deeks," Kensi started, in a confident but soft tone, "come on, baby. You know I'm right about more than just that. You will never be like him, regardless of what happens with LAPD. You can always find a new purpose, be it with NCIS as an agent, again in the law, or something else entirely. What matters is not the job you do, but what's inside... the strength of your character, and you never have to worry about that." Kensi tried again, hoping to get Deeks to open up a little more before his perfectly constructed mask was back in its place.

Deeks nodded with a tearful smile, a single tear sliding down his face. This time, it was not for his father, but in gratitude for the woman sitting beside him. So this one time, he let it roll. Hoping it would also take with it the memories of Brandel that had just resurfaced. "Thanks, Kens. And that's only one reason why I love you. Your trust in me means more than I could say."

"And don't ever forget it," Kensi said proudly, pulling Deeks towards her and giving him another hug. Because sometimes that's all a man needed. "And for whatever it's worth, our bar will never be a symbol of your father or the awful things he did to you and Roberta. Things are tough this year, but the Squid will resurface." Kensi wished she could promise that it would, but this year had shown them that life was even more unpredictable than they thought and sometimes shit just happened. And you couldn't do anything about it, only hope that life would eventually get better and the good shoe would drop to balance it all out.

"Too bad we didn't name it The Phoenix and the Dagger, or we could have said the bar would be reborn from its metaphorical ashes." Deeks corrected with a chuckle, the familiar spark in his eyes returning as the morning light reflected off his unshed tears.

"Yeah, too bad," Kensi quipped sarcastically. "I knew I shouldn't have let you watch that Harry Potter marathon. That sounds like a name straight out of a Rowling's book."

"Oh, Harry Potter. Maybe we should add trivia night to the bar. I'm sure Brandel would have hated that too," Deeks proposed with fake enthusiasm, but a very real new purpose to turn his bar into everything Brandel wasn't. "Maybe Callen and Arkady would like it too… that way we can avoid any more pool incidents," he added with a slight grimace.

"I'm sure Callen and Arkady would manage to turn even trivia into a bar brawl. Maybe we just need to find Anna so she can keep her boys in line," Kensi shot back, deciding progress enough had been made and now she could lighten up and banter with Deeks. At least she now knew what was up in Deeks' mind so she could keep an eye on him and any more signs of his old demons making a return.

"Anna would probably join them and cause even greater havoc," Deeks said matter-of-factly. He then pulled Kensi towards him and kissed her passionately.

"What was that for?" Kensi asked, when they parted for breath.

"To say thank you, for everything," Deeks breathed out, pulling Kensi all the way towards him and deepening the kiss.

"Whoa there cowboy. Slow your roll. Time to get dressed and go for that Christmas tree," Kensi cut in, when his movements had become more intense and exploratory.

"We already waited a week, I'm sure we can wait one more day," Deeks said with a shrug, his hands already beginning to lift the hem of Kensi's shirt.

Looking directly at Deeks, Kensi could still see the glistening of tears in his eyes. But instead, she decided to focus on the hunger and love reflected in there too. Every word she had said was something she now believed to her core, and even if it had taken her a long time to realize it, she now knew that NCIS, or the LAPD for that matter, were not, and had never been, their home. They had only been a pathway to each other. And they were together now, so where they worked didn't really matter. Whatever happened, they would be okay.

So, letting her resolve crumble, Kensi took Deeks' hand and let herself be pulled towards their bed, lips crashing, and only parting for a moment so Kensi could move her hands to either side of Deeks' face to softly wipe any remaining tears from his eyes. With that done, Kensi gave in happily, letting her shirt be lifted as she began her own exploration of Deeks' body.

2020 had been a year to forget, but they hoped 2021 would be one to remember, starting with this very moment, and whenever that was done, with the two of them going together to buy the prettiest tree in the lot.

[harleenfleck]

“Don’t forget me” (Part. 1)

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Reader fic 

Summary: you’re one of the few female clowns who working in Ha-ha’s, over time, you made a nice friendship with Arthur, and at the same time, you began to be very attracted to him, but you never had the valor and courage to confess your feelings. The things get complicated when he gets fired of the job and you knew nothing about him until the death of his mother. Being convinced by Randall and Gary, you three plan going to visit Arthur.

Warnings: No one in this one, maybe sexist language from one of the characters, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Words: 4.6k

A/N: Well, lasts days I watched “Joker” for the nth time and this idea was like a seed flowering in my head when I see the Randall’s Death Scene. I change some details of the movie, but I really had too much creativity in this story that I had to get carried away with. The lyrics to the song "Night Mime" by Melanie Martinez inspired me very much, actually, the name "Night Mime" appears in the story ✨🌌

In fact, the story was going to be a One-Shot, but Tumblr said no 🙄 because it was on the limit of words, so I decided to do it in 2 parts, even though my heart is asking me to do a third part.

I’m sorry if I make some grammatical, spelling or writing mistakes, English is not my native language.

I hope you like it!

...

Running, you’re late, and you don’t want be late in the work. You ran upstairs and take a big breath when you punch in the time clock.

You came to your job at Ha-ha's, a clown agency in Gotham, you really loved your job, you loved dressing up, putting on wigs, put exaggerate and shining makeup in your face and making people laugh, especially kids, made some balloons for them, dances and giving littles jokes with your magic wand.

“I can’t feel my legs” You whispered to yourself, and coughing too. You really got tired.

“What did a lady like you last night who can’t feel her legs?”

You heard a masculine laugh, you frowned.

That motherfucker, Randall, he was one of the horrible things in that beloved place. Randall was a man who disgust you. Repulsive, misogynistic and unfriendly. It seemed that everything inside him was on his outside too.

You almost returned the insult but someone interrupted you.

“What is wrong with you Randall?! She’s a lady! Leave her alone!”

Oh, one of your friends in Ha-has, Gary, that great guy, he’s was so nice with everyone here, especially with the few women who working in Chuckle Town, that’s how Randall referred to work sometimes.

“Thank you, Gary, you’re really a real man in this place, so respectful, a real gentleman. Others should learn from you”

Randall breathed a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes.

“It’s just a joke Y/N! Tiffany, the redhead clown, you know her? Well, she laughs a lot with my jokes, why you don’t-”

“Because I’m not Tiffany! And I don’t like your fucking jokes! You always-”

“Hey, hey, calm down!” Oh no, Hoyt, your boss, appeared “Can you two please leave this stupid conversation? Always you two fight for bullshit”

“Boss, I’m sorry, it was Randall’s fault, he always says disgusting things to me and the others women!”

“Please Y/N! Why you don’t go to prepare for the show of today? I remember you Night Mime will go a Birthday Party Today”

Night Mime was your clown name in the job, Night Mine is the clown you played in every show you gave.

“Yeah, sorry, I forget that. I’m so sorry” Don’t want to disturbed the place, you decide to shut up your own mouth. Maybe Randall won this battle, but definitely not the war.

You go to your locker, looking for your make up and your wig, when Hoyt called you again. “Oh, by the way Y/N, Carnival will accompany Night Mime today”

You stayed mute to that words.

“Carnival will accompany Night Mime today?” You asked again, but more timidly.

“Yeah, when he comes, I’ll tell him”.

“O-Okay…”

Everyone (Except Gary) mocked about that. You turned around quickly, because you blushed instantly.

Carnival will accompany Night Mime, which meant Arthur Fleck would be with you. Your heart beat so quickly. And you don’t feel your legs again.  

When Hoyt leaves, some began to mock the situation.

“You heard that shit? Arthur surely will think he'll have a date with Y/N” a laugh you can heard. You get so annoyed and you wanted to punch their faces of that idiots who made fun with him.

What’s the fucking problem with Arthur? He's not like one of the other idiots here, he's different, so different from everyone

You thought, cause that’s the true. You don’t understand why everyone were so mean with Arthur. He was just a man who have a strange condition, but that it’s not his fault. Maybe him don’t have a lot of money, but nobody in Ha-Ha’s were rich. He was just a boy with bad luck.

When you choosing what wig wanted to use for the show, you heard the time clock. Turned your head, you looked at him.

Arthur was there, with his bag, his dark yellow jacket and his green eyes. His beautiful eyes.

Blushed again, you moved your head again to the wigs. When you started to work in Ha-ha’s, you met every clown, one by one. When was the turn of present you to Arthur, you were so fascinated with him, you don’t meet nobody like him before. And you wanted to start a friendship with him.

But it was harder than you expected.

Arthur was so shy, reserved, barely talking to his male coworkers, especially Gary and Randall, never with women, maybe a "Good morning" or "Hello," but only that. You saw how he related to others, but from your position, you noticed that Arthur's friendship with Randall was unwholesome. He always made fun of him, so was the joke, you noticed that something inside Arthur it became uncomfortable.

You came to him slowly, sometimes you would come and say "Good morning, Arthur", which sometimes left him amazed, he didn't expect anyone else to remember his name. You remembered his name, why would you remember him? Arthur wanted to get excited, but he knew you weren't interested in him.

Or that’s what he thought.

One day, you said something nice to him about his hair, but that make he exploded in laughs. You thought he was mocked of you, but when he passed you a little card and you read that little card, your heart broke.

“I’m so sorry Arthur, I don’t want to be rude with-“

“It’s- It’s… O… Oka…”

He still laughs, and you, without experience in that cases, you hugged him and massaging his back. That was the first and last hug you shared. Arthur for a moment he felted safe, he felted confidence, and he return the hug. This could have made you two closers, made a pretty friendship.

If Randall hadn't opened his mouth:

“Hey Artie, Is she your new girlfriend? The lady Y/N have an expensive taste, I don’t think you can give her what she wants”

That was the first time Randall disrespected you. You were speechless because you didn’t expect it from him. And Arthur felt so insecure back, he doesn’t laugh again, but he apart to you, ashamed. He didn't want them to think you were his girlfriend, because he didn't want them to mess with you like they did with him.

And now, he tried to avoid you. That sometimes hurt your feelings. And felted some stupid, you started to feel attracted to him. You don’t want a friendship anymore; you want to be the girlfriend of Arthur Fleck.

But now, that’s was impossible.

Thank you, Randall, thank you for ruining everything".

“Hey Arthur” The voice of Gary sends you to the present again “Hoyt wants to see you in his office, he has a job for you today”

“Uh?” you heard a deep breath of Arthur and his steps to the office. You looked everyone, and they started try to mocked in silence.

You can’t hold it more.

“What’s so fucking funny?” You talked, almost screamed to them. They thought you were angry for share with Arthur your afternoon and job. You were really angry at them for making fun of him.

When Arthur backs, you were so nervous, you wanted to see him, but you were very shy for do it.

“H-Hello Y/N”

His voice, he called you.

Your heart beat like it had a life of it's own. “Hi Arthur! How are you today?”

“Eh… Fine, I think I’m fine, thank you…A-and you?”

You could notice he was very nervous. You didn't know if he still wanted to avoid you or he was just more shy than usual. Maybe he was ashamed to have to interact with you after he took you away from him himself.

It didn't matter, you'd forgive him. It didn't matter what he did.

“Fine too, thank you Arthur. So, Hoyt tell you about the job of today?”

“Y-yeah, a birthday party”

“C’mon Arthur, sit with me, don’t be shy” Arthur was discussed with himself whether he should do it or not. Then he scolded himself, you were being kind to him, he should reciprocate you. He sat with you, shyly. “So, Arthur, you worked with a partner before?”

“N-no…”

“Oh… Well, there’s always a first time, I’m so glad to work with you today, we gonna be a great team you and me”

The enthusiasm you radiated left Arthur delighted, why did he try to avoid you all this time? You were very kind to him, he had to be thankful.

“I hope so… I-I have a pair of ideas f-for the show”

“Really? Tell me Arthur”

You and him spent at least two hours preparing the show, perfecting it. The others at Ha-ha's, who waited a moment to mock him, just got tired of waiting. Even one who else realized you two made a good duo.

After prepared the show, it was the time to convert you in Carnival and Night Mime. You put on a purple jumper with a yellow blouse, big black and golden clown shoes and white gloves. You decide to use a two colors wig, turquoise and black, with a purple beret. Arthur get prepared for convert in Carnival too. He put his clown make up and his very cute clown suit.

You don’t have idea how to use your makeup today. Arthur noticed that, and he confused it a little.

“You don’t have one only make-up?”

You refused, making noises with your throat “I always change my makeup, but I don’t have inspiration today…”

“C-can I help you with y-your makeup?”

He really does it for you? You felted you going to melt for his tenderness.

“…That’s sounds great Arthur! Please, just don’t make me ugly”

“That’s impossible…” He whispered, but you heard him anyway. Blushed again.

Arthur started to makeup your face, something like the Carnival’s makeup but in pastel colors, more feminine and putting a heart in your nose instead a circle.

“That’s so beautiful Arthur!” You said very happy as you looked at yourself with your little mirror.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it!”

“Thank you, Y/N ...”

“No, thank you Arthur… Well, let’s go, it’s show time!”

You two advised Hoyt of your parting and went to the birthday party. It was the party of a little boy who would be 8 years old. The party wouldn't have been the same without the clowns. They cheered the place, told jokes that made even the adults laugh, played with the kids, Night Mime gave to the children a mime show, Carnival inflated balloons and made animals of those balloons, and finally Night Mime danced a song from Carnival's Ukulele.

When the party was over and they got their paycheck, you thought you'd invite Arthur to dinner at a coffee shop.

“I told you Arthur! That was amazing!” You almost cried to Arthur; he only could smile. You thought how unique two clowns should look in a coffee shop eating desserts and drinking sodas.

“Yeah, you’re right Y/N… I, I really like to work with you”

“Me too! Carnival and Night Mime really like each other, I hope they work together again”

“I hope it too…” Arthur drink to his soda. You looked him again. How you thanked to Hoyt for giving you the "penalty" to work with Arthur, you enjoyed every second.

“Arthur”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“You think we just… Mmhh…”

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to go to eat again with me?”

Arthur blinked to make sure it wasn't a joke you were telling him. Were you asking him to both come out again? Arthur could only feel that the butterflies in his stomach fluttered uncontrolled.

“Oh… Y/N, I, I love it, I love spend the time with you”

Arthur realized that maybe the following words he said would be misunderstood. Maybe you'd misunderstand him and get mad with him, maybe you'd be so angry that you'd leave him alone there.

But instead, you smiled at him.

“Arthur. Yeah, we must to go out again. Maybe the cinema next time?”

“Sure, I love movies”

Arthur smiled, were you asking him out on a date? Wait, you two were dating as a couple or friends? He chases the second option; it was the most probability.

And so, that’s was your plan, but at first only. You wanted things to be slowly given. You wanted him to succumb too to the same feelings you were trapped in.

But he was already trapped in those feelings too, but he was less brave.

…

The days went too fast, maybe it was already weeks, or months, but you and Arthur were best friends. Gradually you knew better that man in a yellow jacket who had the noblest soul in the world, knew his flaws, his qualities, every little detail of him in his life. And you also let him into your life, he would soon know what your favorite perfume was and that one of your favorite flowers was lilies.

Your feelings also increased too much; you felt your heart inflated as much as a balloon when you saw him, that one of those day you would fly out the window.

Arthur felt the same way about you. He loved the scent of your hair, the color of your eyes, your joy, your spontaneity. Even inside his mind he played that Carnival was in love with Night Mime too.

But again, his insecurities assured him that all those games were absurd, that you were his friend. You only saw him that way. He was said to himself you would find someone special soon, and that he should let you be happy with that someone.

But soon, things were going to change, and very badly.

One day, an animated Arthur told you he was going to a job at a music store, you wished him luck and enjoyed the show. When you were in your apartment, eating a couple of cookies, the phone was ringing. You ran to it and responded, it was Arthur, crying.

“Honey! What happened?! Are you okay?!”

“I-I got jumped Y/N, I got jumped for a bunch of kids…” His broken voice make you cry too. But you did it in silence, just for not worry him “It’s so stupid…”

“No Artie, that’s not stupid. Are you in home? You don’t wanna I go to your apartment?”

“No Y/N, it’s late, I don’t want you get assault too. W-we can talk about it tomorrow in the work”

“Okay darling… Are you okay, Artie? They didn’t hurt you?”

“…No, don’t worry for me, I’m fine…”

“Artie, I’m so sorry to hear this… Don’t worry, you can tell me everything tomorrow, right?”

“Right… Hey Y/N… Thank you, thank you so much for be my friend…”

You wiped your tear from your cheek. You talked a little more on the phone until he said the dream was beating him. You knew how bad Arthur was financially, you counted your bucks, and fortunately you had extra money. You could help Arthur with that.

…

“Randall… I’m not supposed to have a gun”

Randall had given Arthur a gun, under the pretext that he could defend himself a little.

“Don’t sweat it, Art. No one has to know, and you can pay me back some other time. You know you’re my boy”

Arthur saw the gun inside the paper bag again. He started laughing nervously. Maybe Randall was right, maybe he needed something like that to defend himself against those who wanted to hurt him.

“Hey Arthur, another thing. Don’t tell about this to your friend, Y/N”

Arthur, who was smiling, stopped doing it when Randall asked him that. “Why not?”

“…Because she is a woman, women don’t understand about guns and these things, that’s secret was between you and me, right?”

“Okay..." Arthur kept the gun in his locker, just then, you showed up. And you looked at his back. And the contusion in his scapula.

“Arthur”

Arthur was shocked with your voice. He feared you'd find him with the gun in his hands, but unfortunately, you couldn't see the paper bag. You could only see that purple stain on his back.

Randall left there, he knew very well when you were present, he wasn't welcome. But you didn't even care about Randall's presence. You come up to Arthur and made him sit on the seat, you sat down too.

You couldn't find the words to express yourself.

“Arthur, why you lied to me?” You asked him in a brittle voice, you didn't cry just because you were at Ha-ha's.

“What? I don’t lie to you”

“You did it! You said you hadn't been hurt when you were assaulted, and the first thing I see is that huge blow on your back, Arthur."

Arthur was embarrassed. What you were saying was true. He had lied to you, that wasn't something you could easily forgive.

“I-I don’t want to worried you, Y/N, I-”

“Well, now I’m double worry for you, because you’re hurt Arthur, they hurt you…”

Arthur looked at the ground, ashamed so many things, was ashamed that you saw him shirtless, that you saw the blows to his body, he was ashamed to have lied to you, he was ashamed to had worried you.

“I-I’m so sorry Y/N, I really don’t want to worried you. I’m sorry to lied you Y/N, I’m sorry” He hugged you, hiding his face on your shoulder, hoping that his condition would not betray him at that moment. You hugged him, you honestly were a little disappointed with him because he hid the truth from you, but Arthur did it so you wouldn't worry. He wouldn't do it with other intentions.

Randall only watched you from afar, disliked the scene, how come someone was able to hug Arthur?

“Arthur” Gary appears again “Hoyt wants to see you in his office”

You stopped hugging him so he could go with Hoyt, Arthur put on his white shirt and went to the office.

“Hey Gary” Randall opened his mouth “Do you people call it miniature golf or is just golf to you?”

Some clowns started to laugh; Gary feel embarrassed again.

You get mad, really mad, why the people love to mess with those who were not to blame for their circumstances?

“So fucking funny Randall, did you tell to your wife that joke?” You looked at him “Oh yeah, you don’t have nobody to love, and nobody loves you”

"Hey Y/N, when will you and Arthur's wedding be? Because I can’t wait, I must to rent a suit for that event"

They made fun of you again, but not Randall, you weren't going to win this time. 

"Soon Randall, very soon, but don't worry, you're not going to be invited, and I don't think any suit of all Gotham fits on you"

The laughter was heard all over the room, even Gary tried not to laugh, but was impossible. Randall was clearly angry, you smiled maliciously.

But all the fun for you ended when you see Arthur leaving the office, and leaving the building. Something bad happened. In the middle of the laughs, you got up and went after him. You came down the stairs.

You left the building and got to see Arthur walk into an alley. You ran after him. And you saw the image of Arthur kicking a few garbage bags. You've never seen him like this before, so angry, mad and furious.

Arthur falls to grown, feeling some stupid, but he really felted so frustrated.

“A-Arthur?”

He gets dumbfounded and turned surprised at you when he was crying and hugging his legs on the floor.

“Y/N? What you’re doing here?”

“I see you leave the job, what happened?” Despite the bad smell, you sat next to him. And then, you heard him, you never heard his voice full of angry and sadness at the same time.

"Hoyt said he was going to take it from my check the sign that those who assaulted me destroyed, he thinks I kept it, why would I keep his sign, Y/N? He said he didn't think I was assaulted for the sign, and I need the money, I need the money for my mother… He also said that... That many at work are not comfortable with me, they think I’m a freak, a weird. Y/N, is that true? I’m a freak? You feel uncomfortable with me?"

Arthur's voice nearly broke when he asked you that.

And now, it’s was your turn to get mad too.

“Arthur, what the fuck? Why Hoyt say that bullshit?”

“M-maybe it’s true”

How they dare to hurt Arthur?

“Well he’s is fucking wrong! I don’t think you’re a freak, I think you’re just a human” You took a pair of tufts of his hair “You don’t make me uncomfortable, you’re my best friend darling, please Arthur, believe in that, right?”

“R-right…” You surrounded him with your arms one more time. But that injustice to him wasn't going to look like that.

A little while later, you went to Hoyt’s office

“Can I help you, Y/N?” He said without looking you.

A loud noise made he stops to read some letters. It was your hand with a bunch of dollars.

“For your fucking sign. By the way, he’s not a freak”

He looked at you, and he didn't know if it was the way you spoke him or he'd never seen anyone defend Arthur the way you did.

He only took the bunch and counts the money.

“It’s okay…You can go”

And you leave the place.

…

That morning you woke up, you felt something bad was going to happen. Your instinct was telling you.

In Ha-ha’s, Arthur mentioned to you he was going to a children's hospital.

"Night Mime could come with you" You suggested, you could make back that fantastic duo, in fact, when you both worked together, they even tipped them for yourselves, you kept a little and with the rest you were going to eat at some small restaurant.

"That's a great idea, let me ask to Hoyt" Arthur went to Hoyt's office excitedly. That day, you felt the need to stand by him, to protect him.

Arthur backs with a disappointed face.

“And? What Hoyt says?”

“He said no”

“Oh…”

You also got disappointed, you really wanted to be with him that day.

“It’s okay, I’ll be alright”

“Yeah, you’re going into a hospital, a children’s hospital, nothing bad gonna happen”

He smiled at you. He prepares himself to convert in Carnival Clown. Before he let the place, you wish him good luck. And you don’t know this was the last time you’ll see Arthur in a lot of time.

The next day, you went to Ha-ha's in the afternoon as you had a little event at a school. You didn't know everything that was going on in the city until you got here. Hoyt said the school had canceled the clown show.

“Why? Why they cancelled the show?”

“You didn’t know Y/N? for the fucking killer clown”

The words "Killer Clown" took you by surprise.

“KILLER CLOWN?! What the…? What happened?”

“Y/N! Right here!” One of the clowns pass you a newspaper, you read the notice. A killer clown kills three rich guys in the subway.

“Oh my… What horrible” You said with total honestly. And you notice to Randall was so very nervous. You slowly went to where Gary was sitting.

“Gary” You whispered to him “What happened to Randall? I very enjoy the show, but I want to know why he’s like this?

In that moment, Gary saw you with some concern and preoccupation.

“Oh Y/N, a lot of things happened in the morning”

“What?”

“This… Well, it’s about Arthur”

You worried instantly, because Gary's face said a lot of things and at the same time nothing.

“Arthur? Arthur It’s okay?”

“Y/N… Arthur bring a gun to the children’s hospital; they warned to Hoyt about it and he fired Arthur”

Your mind clouded at that instant, your eyes became small, trying to understand all the information exposed to you in that little sentence your co-worker told you.

Arthur with a gun? Take it to a children's hospital? Arthur getting fired from Ha-ha's?

“…And today, he said the gun was Randall’s in front everything, and Arthur owed money to Randall from that gun”

As if it wasn't too much information to process the one you received first.

“What… What the fucking hell?”

Your mind processed everything, absolutely everything.  Why would Arthur carry a gun? He himself had told you before that he could not take one, would Randall have forced or insisted until he had accepted? That’s probability, and now again thank to Randall, Arthur was out of job.

Randall deserved the little hell in he was in that moment.

…

You waited to the night, use you telephone and called to Arthur. You hoping he response the call.

You called him for three times, in the third time, he answered.

“Who is this?”

“Art… It’s me, Y/N, are you okay Artie?”

“Hey Y/N, I’m fine, I’m really fine, thank you, and you?”

You noticed that voice wasn't Arthur's. You knew it was him, but not at the same time. He sounded so different, like he was someone else, a stranger, not the Artie you knew, the Arthur who was your best friend.

“…Worry Artie… Gary told me everything about the morning in the job, it’s true about the gun, Arthur? it’s true Randall gave it to you?"

He didn't answer for a few seconds. You even though the phone was failing.

“Why you want to know that?”

You got frozen when you heard that, why Arthur was talking to you like that?

"Because I care about you, why you didn't tell me Randall gave you a gun? You know Randall is an asshole. I can, I can tell Hoyt you explained to me that the gun was a toy, I can get one just like it, and we could get rid of the real gun, we can…"

You were looking for a plan A, a plan B, a plan C, possibly a plan for every letter of the alphabet, something you could help Arthur with it, because he didn't deserve to be fired, you could help him, you wanted to help him. Your love for him was so big that maybe you could let forgive him that he's hidden things from you, he should keep his own secrets, right? But you really wanted to help him.

“It’s okay Y/N, I don’t need that job anymore, everyone there was awful with me, don’t need to support they shit. Don’t fix my mistakes, please”

Frozen, again.

And what did he mean by that they were all awful to him? He was forgetting you and Gary?

“Arthur… A-Are you really okay?”

“You don’t listen me? I told you, I’m fine, really fine, thank you, I guess”

But what the fuck was going on with Arthur? Maybe he was irritated and upset about Ha-ha's and the incident, but it was no reason to treat you so indifferent. It was much worse than when he was trying to avoid you at Ha-ha's for the first time, only that time it was for shyness. Now it looked like you really bothered him.

“I’m sorry Arthur, I just… Can I see you soon Artie? In your apartment? I can bring some candies and chips, what you think?”

Maybe you could make better his days, maybe it was time to tell the truth, to tell how you really felt about him.

But what you never expected of him was a rejection. Or at least something like that.

“I'll call you. Bye"

He hung up the phone, you said his name twice to make sure it wasn't. But yes, he hung up on you, ending the call.

You tried to understand him for the first few seconds, but soon your blouse and hands would start to soak in your tears.

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[gaycrouton]

Couple

Words of Love 3/27

Couple: (noun) two individuals of the same sort considered together. [Scully and Mulder will never get tired of being mistaken as a couple.]

If Scully had a dollar for every time someone referred to her as Mulder’s date, girlfriend, wife, or even lover, she could become the youngest person to ever retire from the FBI. It seemed to be a running gag that had followed them throughout their entire partnership. Even in the early days before they became friends, before they were even comfortable around each other, they had to dismiss people’s presumptions.

For the first year, without a doubt, it pissed her off. As soon as a cutesy comment came out of anyone’s mouth, she would shut it down with a curt, “Special Agent Scully, his partner.” She worked hard to present herself in a professional and dignified manner. These suits sure as hell weren’t comfortable, but they were the armor required by females in a male dominated field in order to be taken seriously. Comparatively, she looked just as official as Mulder, but yet as soon as they were side by side, he was the one that would get addressed and she was treated as his feminine accessory. She found it implicitly sexist and it grated on her nerves. The amused grin that would grace his lips only added fuel to the fire.

It wasn’t until she voiced her irritation to her mother that her perception changed.

“Dana, honey, I don’t think it has to do with the world being misogynistic. Think about it this way. Does that mistake happen with other men? Like when you used to go on dates or hung out with your male med school friends?”

Scully was a little taken aback, “N-no, no one mistook me as romantically involved with them.” Ironically.

“Did you ever consider it has to do with the way you and Fox interact with each other?” She could hear her mother’s teasing smile through the phone.

“We act completely professional and nothing more,” the words sounded a bit forced, even to her and she knew her mother would see right through them.

What she didn’t expect was for her mother to laugh. Excessively so. Scully sat with irritated patience for an actual response, “Dana, the touching, the gazing, the way you both speak to each other, even I’ve considered the possibility of you two being a secret couple.”

Her words stuck with Scully, she spent days mulling over what her mother meant. It was the next time they were mistaken as a couple that she really looked at the situation objectively.

It was a case in the middle of nowhere Iowa. They had just gotten to a scene and started discussing the case when the local Sheriff interrupted them. “Are you the Agent Mulder I contacted? Nice to meet you, I didn’t know you were bringing the missus,” he greeted with a friendly smile. Her mother’s words rang in her ears and she evaluated the vibe they were giving off in that moment.

They had only been on the scene for two minutes before the word “Bigfoot” left Mulder’s mouth. Not wanting the other investigators to hear and start dismissing him, Scully took him by the arm, dragged him a few steps away from everyone else, and started rationalizing with him. When the Sheriff was approaching them, Scully’s hand was still gently gripping Mulder’s forearm and he was slightly hunched over so they could speak face-to-face in private, hushed tones. When the Sheriff started speaking, Scully’s hand left his arm, only for Mulder to put his own on the small of her back. She had to admit, to an outsider the scene could easily been taken as intimate.

She was so lost in her realization, that she had forgotten to dish out her usual snappy correction. Mulder looked a bit surprised, and almost flustered, that he had to make the correction for once, “N-no, this is my partner. Special Agent Dana Scully, Medical Doctor.” He smiled and shook the apologetic man’s hand as Scully smiled.

He used her entire title. She had never expressed to him that she found the dismissal of her qualifications to be demeaning. Yet, from the way he emphasized her credentials, he was on the same page and wanted her to be recognized and respected. She noticed Mulder caught her smiling from the amused eyebrow that cocked up in response. She was a little more forgiving with the people who made the mistake after that.

The turning point she had a harder time pinpointing was when she started enjoying the mistakes. Crush sounded juvenile. She would never say that she had a crush on Mulder. She did, however, find him extremely attractive. She also enjoyed his company and the opportunities she had to hang out with him. She knew nothing would ever come to fruition, so she reveled in the few moments of time between being mistaken as a couple and the inevitable correction. Because for those few precious seconds, in someone’s world, they were together. Fuck, okay fine, I have a crush on Mulder.

She had no doubts that he had always enjoyed people calling her his wife or girlfriend or any of the other endearments. From the first time it happened he would fail at suppressing his amusement. For a while, it added to her irritation because she assumed he found the idea of being tied to her so damn hilarious, he couldn’t help but smile. When he started correcting people was when she noticed, what sounded almost like, disappointment lacing his voice.

She had to say though, without a doubt, this was the first time he ever went with it.

They had just finished a case in Texas and were celebrating at the only diner in town. On their way there, she casually mentioned she she hoped they had pie, not giving it a passing thought. When they got there and were seated, he excitedly pointed to a flyer promoting, “Free Pie for First Dates” with an exuberant grin.

Not understanding why he was so excited, she reminded him, “Mulder, this isn’t our first date.” She felt herself blush, hoping he didn’t think she was implying she considered all their dinners to be dates.

Of course she wouldn’t be that lucky, his grin widened at her words and he waggled his eyebrows, “They don’t have to know that.”

Before she had a chance to respond, the waitress came. “Hey y’all, how’s your night goin’?”

With a charm he had never, so wholeheartedly, directed towards her before, he reached across the table and held her hand. Sending a beaming smile to the waitress, he answered, “Fantastic, I just got to spend the whole evening with this lovely lady after years of trying to convince her to go out with me.” She knew immediately this was a ploy for pie, but damn if he wasn’t convincing. Her look of surprise elicited a smugness to join his smile. Deciding she didn’t want to let him have all the fun, she joined in.

Meeting his gaze with coy smile and batting her lashes, she added, “What can I say? He’s a very charming man when he wants to be.” She had to suppress laughter at the look on Mulder’s face.

While she was rubbing small circles with her thumb on Mulder’s hand, the waitress exclaimed, “Oh my! Is this y’all’s first date?”

Mulder beat her to answering, “First, but definitely not last.” To punctuate his sentence, he brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss. She felt her heartbeat accelerate and she wondered how much of this was play and how much of this was them diving into dangerous territory.

“Well bless your hearts! You two make a perfect pair, absolutely stunning,” her comments made both partners chuckle a little bit to mask their embarrassment at her words. “Your night just got luckier because we have a 'First Date, Free Pie' deal going on!”

Mulder gasped in mock surprise, “Babe, did you hear that? We’re so lucky!” Damn he was good.

She knew it was juvenile, but she wanted to shock him as much as he shocked her with this charade, so she decided to push the boundaries a bit. Dropping her voice down to a seductive tone she hadn’t used in years, she teased, “This won’t be the only time you get lucky tonight, sweetheart.” She mentally patted herself on the back when his face turned red and he couldn’t hide the shy smile that was about to crack his face.

“Well aren’t you two the cutest! Just let me know your orders and what type of pie you want and I’ll tell the cooks.”

After telling the waitress what they wanted, they separated hands to give the woman their menus. When she left, the jovial sexual tension still hung in the air.

“Well Mulder, I’m impressed. I didn’t know you’d be so dedicated to helping me get dessert.”

Grinning at her attempt at levity, he added, “Not just any dessert, my dear Scully, but free dessert. Also, not just a single slice, but an entire pie. I say we make a pretty convincing pair.”

The remainder of the evening was spent in their normal, comfortable companionship, but the few moments they got to flirt  would stay with the partners for a long time after. And it was some damn good pie.