flirting with my screen

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[aquilapolariz]

iz ⭐ she/her ⭐ 20 ⭐ 🏳️‍🌈 ⭐ one piece ⭐ attack on titan ⭐ ikemen series @aquilapolariz —> @polarizaquila

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request status: CLOSED (I have a very very long reinerxreader fic planned, give me a couple months😭) Last Updated: 3/11/25

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#iz blurbz ~ short writing pieces or any thoughts about different characters (i'll specify it further in the tags), under 500 words ish

#iz writes ~ full length fics, usually one shots, over 500 words ish; posted on ao3 as well

#iz answers ~ answers to asks/ requests

#iz talks ~ anything not from a fic i write

#iz recommends- any fic i love and recommend you read too!!

#op spoilers ~ contains spoilers for the anime/manga one piece

#aot spoilers ~ contains spoilers for the anime/manga attack on titan

[unwision]

I suddenly started watching Bleach

[hermusicpersona]

Ultra specific things i loved in Bleach :

- Hirako's voice and mocking tone, like he's playing with his words

-"that wasn't a Getsugatensho, dumbass, it was just me swinging my sword"

-the way Chad grabbed Ichigo's sword to pull him up and throw him at Uryu in their last fight

-everytime Renji appeared on screen at the beginning of a fight with some cool confident cocky one-liner

-Jugram's half-lidded stare (honorable mention: when he killed Bazz B and they didn't show his eyes because, after all, he grieved him anyways)

-"ever since you were in your mother's womb"

-the way Rukia half-smiled at Ichigo when he was losing his powers and couldn t see her anymore

-Senjumaru's bankai

- how Yoruichi's movements are animated, i m mesmerized

-the two seconds of Grimmjow swinging before launching himself at Ichigo

-Unohana looking like death herself before fighting Zaraki

-the detail of Byakuya's fingers freezing up too when he touched Rukia's hand to warm it up and melt the ice

-Rangiku

-Aizen's voice acting - deceivingly gentle

-Urahara's voice acting - playful and teasingly polite

-Shunsui wearing the flower pins of his brother and sister-in-law and also her kimono

-how Shunsui held Nanao's head gently to his chest in the Soul Society Arc when she was overwhelmed by Yamamoto's spiritual pressure

-Starrk being as bored as Shunsui when they had to fight

-after being manipulated and messed with by Aizen, Momo finally having a captain that could care for her despite his teases and playful taunts (Hirako, who also took care of Hyori)

-how Hirako was horrified when Hyori was taken down, despite all their banter and fighting and insults

-Zaraki's two most important people being two women

-Zaraki not giving a fuck about Yumichika's fruity ass look because he cares about power and strength not about how one dresses / behaves

-the same thing with Ikkaku

-Shuhei and Kira holding Yumichika back by force when Ikkaku lost his battle and he instinctively wanted to go to him

-Harribel's character being based on women protecting each other

-The few minutes when Nel was serious (LOVED her battle)

-Ulquiorra reaching his hand for Orihime just before he died

-how horrified Ichigo looked when Toshiro stabbed Momo under Aizen's illusion

-the outfits - the drip never stops (honorable mention - Ichigo's outfits that changed according to each of his power ups)

-Zangetsu's designs

-the way Hisagi talked about fear in his battle

+ many more - Bleach was a masterpiece and it really opened my eyes to how difficult and profound it had to be to build a verse such as this, all due respect to Kubo

[alanwakemeup]

redraw

[ksenka]

Aot x squid game crossover

Team ⭕ and team ❌

Porco is a gambling and overconfident person I think, and Reiner just wanna go home after the first game 😭

[alizha]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒓 | 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒏 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝖱𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖬 𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 𝟧.𝟩𝗄 𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌: 𝖿/𝗆, 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾, 𝗇𝗈𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾, 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗌

𝖥𝖾𝗎𝖽𝖺𝗅 𝖤𝗅𝖽𝗂𝖺 𝖠𝖴: 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖥𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗓 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖤𝗅𝖽𝗂𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗒? 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖤𝗅𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝖤𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗄𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖭𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖳𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗌, 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾.

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖱𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖠𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖳𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖠𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗋. 𝖳𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖲𝗎𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖱𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗇. 𝖱𝖾𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝖡𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇’𝗌 𝗏𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗀𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽—𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖿𝗂𝖺𝗇𝖼é𝖾’𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍.

✵ masterlist ✵ feudal eldia au

The last time the ceremony had taken place, Reiner hadn’t yet been at the estate.

Every thirteen years, the occasion takes place. It’s grand, heavily formal, filled with fanfare and celebration. The entire noble household gathers, along with contingents from other noble clans and vassal families. It’s not the first time Reiner has seen the courtyard alive and filled with people, glittering like jewels in their ceremonial attire. But it’s the first time he’s been in front of all those eyes.

The courtyard seems to sparkle, the morning light throwing brilliant sparks off the babbling water spouting from the central fountain. At its heart, an imposing depiction of an Armored Titan braces a large basin from which the gleaming water pours. The Titan’s marble eyes peer out from a head shaped like a great helm, and spikes adorn its shoulders as if bolstered by pauldrons.

That Armored had been a Ritter. Lord Erich Ritter, head of the clan several centuries ago.

Reiner shifts his attention away from the fountain and the crowd of people seated in neat rows around it and tries to maintain his composure. His fine leather riding boots are so stiff and polished, his toes feel like they have no room to move. When he’d first arrived at the estate nearly twelve years ago, he’d worn shoes so old that they were falling apart.

He’d been young, barely nine at the time—sent off with his uncle from their small vassalage and a soldier from the noble estate to ensure his safe arrival. They had no money to spare for a carriage and no horses to spare from the fields. Reiner tries to recall what he can of his mother’s last words to him before he left home all those years ago.

Something about carrying the weight of their family name. About being strong and doing what he can for the good of the Brauns.

The cotton trousers of his uniform are tucked into them at the knees, too thick for the end of summer but lighter, at least, than the wool uniforms. A tickle of moisture beading on the back of his neck and dribbling down past his collar adds to his discomfort, and he reminds himself no one in the crowd can see just how sticky he feels.

He stands in a line of similarly attired wards, all in their impeccably-tailored coats dyed a rich, deep blue. The shade matches the banners hung up along the stone walls of the courtyard, fluttering in the light breeze and embroidered in a silver thread that catches the sunlight.

The hum of the crowd quietens as blaring trumpets announce the current head of the clan taking the stage. Lord Ritter is an old man, dressed in the most opulent of garb among his family members. His white hair and beard contrast starkly with the dark brocade of his high-collared overcoat, and the gold medallion around his neck denotes his role of absolute leadership here. At his waist, he wears a sword with a jewel-encrusted hilt that Reiner wonders if the man can even lift at his age.

Lord Ritter holds out his arms and speaks. “My esteemed family, loyal vassals, and honored guests. This day marks the culmination of  years of discipline and sacrifice. For every candidate here, the path to this moment has been long and fraught with challenge, but only one shall ascend to the mantle of the Armored Titan.”

Reiner stands at attention in the line of blue coats. Blue—to signify the clan they belong to, as wards and loyal soldiers. Each of them were sent to the Ritter estate as young children in anticipation of this very moment. He tries to keep his nerves in check as Lord Ritter continues.

“The child, chosen from among these candidates, shall become our next warrior. It is not just strength of body that brings one this honor, but strength of mind, of will, and of loyalty to the Ritter name.”

Reiner’s throat tightens. Their family is one of the poorest who sent their heirs to become wards. Not only that, but their name had been disgraced when he had barely been born by his father. Now, they’re depending on him, on his victory today, and he had worked himself to the bone for the Armor.

“And so, after years of training, of fighting, of proving themselves worthy, the successor has been determined: Reiner Braun.”

Lord Ritter’s voice reverberates through the courtyard, and air seems to shift. There’s a quiet stir that ripples through the crowds as all of those eyes narrow to a single point—straight at Reiner. More than a few glares burn into the back of his head as the clan elder gestures for him to step forward. He moves dutifully to the center of the stage, his chest tightening.

“Reiner Braun, you have shown the tenacity and unwavering commitment that this family demands. I hereby present you with the mark of the Armored Titan, signifying not just your title but the responsibility you now bear. You are no longer a ward. You are a Ritter,” the clan head says.

The current inheritor of the Armor steps up beside Lord Ritter, a man of thirty-five, though he looks far older than his age. His face is lined with the weight of not only time and battle but something else entirely that seems unnatural. He moves deliberately as he lifts the deep crimson sash from his uniform.

Lord Ritter takes the sash and places it over Reiner’s shoulder, fastening it into place. It drapes from the strap of one silver epaulet to the thick leather belt at his waist, feeling almost heavier than it should be. Heavier than the medals decorating his chest.

“As the victorious candidate, you will now take the oath of loyalty to the family,” the elder man says. He holds out a shining silver goblet presented by one of the attendants, filled with a deep ruby wine—a symbol of the clan’s unity and bloodline. “Do you, Reiner Braun, swear to uphold the honor of the Ritter clan, to defend our name, and to protect the realm of Eldia with your strength and your life?”

Reiner swallows hard, though it does little to quell the ache in his throat. He bows his head deferentially before answering in a steady voice. “I swear to uphold the honor of the Ritter clan. To defend it and the people of Eldia, with my strength, my loyalty, and my life.”

The crowd erupts into deafening applause, and Reiner looks up, pride swelling in his chest. Lord Ritter nods once, a faint smile on his lips as he raises his hands.

“Then, the ceremony is complete. Feast, drink, and celebrate.”

Reiner falls back into place among the wards, the shock of red across his chest now distinguishing him from the others who competed for this honor. He scans the crowd and finds his mother, surrounded by a few other members of the Braun family—his uncle and aunt, and his young cousin, Gabi. When his gaze connects with his mother’s, her eyes are glimmering with pride. She’s smiling at him in a way he hasn’t seen since his father died.

As the crowd begins to disperse, Bertolt nudges him. His friend, perhaps his only friend throughout their years living at the Ritter household, gives him an easy smile. Unlike most of the other wards, Bertolt never seemed to truly hunger for the Armored Titan’s power. His heart was too gentle, too hesitant for the cutthroat competition.

“Congratulations,” he says, placing a hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “I knew you’d win. No one worked harder than you did.”

“Thanks, Bertolt. Means a lot coming from you,” Reiner says with a grin.

“Yeah, Braun,” Porco sneers, sauntering up as the line of wards starts to break away for the feast. “Congratulations on being chosen as the Ritter clan’s new lapdog.”

His words are a hiss, the tone low enough not to carry to the nobles still lingering in the courtyard. But he speaks loud enough for the other wards to hear. Reiner’s smile fades as he squares his shoulders to the shorter man.

“Watch your mouth, Galliard,” he warns. “Unless you’d like me to inform Lord Ritter of your… disloyalty.”

Porco’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Disloyalty?” he scoffs. “All those years of training, and you think you won because you were the best. No. You won because the Ritters know you’ll do whatever they tell you to do without question. Like a loyal dog.”

Reiner clenches his jaw as he takes a threatening step toward him. “Careful. One word from me, and you and your family could lose the little status you have.”

Before Porco can respond, his older brother steps between them. The Galliards sent two candidates to become wards and competitors for the Armor—the younger Porco and the heir to their vassalage, Marcel. A testament to their desperation for the honor.

“That’s enough,” Marcel says to his brother. He’s always been the calmer of the two. “Today is Reiner’s day. Let’s not spoil it with petty grievances.” He looks at Reiner, but he doesn’t quite meet his gaze. “Reiner, I’m sorry.”

Reiner nods, though he’s not sure if Marcel is apologizing on his brother’s behalf or something else. Porco huffs and looks away, clearly still seething. Regardless, he lets Marcel shove him away toward the feast hall, but not without one final glare.

The crowd continues to thin as the other wards move off the stage. Reiner lingers behind and watches them go, knowing he should feel triumphant. Knowing he should be basking in the glory of his victory. But he can’t reconcile the strange numbness he feels with the expectation of his triumph.

“Lost in thought already?”

A familiar voice cuts through the haze of Reiner’s thoughts. He stiffens a little out of habit and turns to find you standing just behind him. As the granddaughter of Lord Ritter, you’ve always carried yourself with a self-assuredness that he can’t help being envious of.

Today, you’re dressed in a gown of fine red silk, with a voluminous skirt covered in layers of delicate tulle. Your hair is pulled back and decorated in intricate braids that leave your face unobstructed, proud and unabashed. To Reiner, you look every bit the noblewoman, poised and collected and everything he feels he is not.

“Didn’t think you were the philosophic type,” you add dryly.

Reiner bows his head instinctively and addresses you, “My lady.”

Your lips quirk into a small smirk. Reiner is nothing if not a stickler for decorum. He’s orbited you for years, occupying the peripheries of your life—close, but never truly connecting. As a ward, he grew up right here on the estate alongside you.

Granted, you’ve spent all those years carefully separated. The instructors and chaperones made it abundantly clear that the wards were not to mix with the Ritter children. It’s not all that surprising that the difference in status has been ingrained into Reiner. Still, you take the opportunity presented to taunt him.

“‘My lady’?” you repeat, arching one eyebrow. “Have you already forgotten? You’re a Ritter now.”

He picks up on the teasing in your tone, but the sharpness edges its way in toward the end as you look at him—this young man you’ve known for over a decade yet never really known. The space between the two of you has always been filled with your deafening awareness of what might come to pass if he came out victorious, like water rushing in to flood that emptiness.

Reiner’s never truly thought about the marriage promised to the Successor. That much is obvious to you. He’s only ever been focused on gaining the power of the Armored Titan, on the honor and status that the inheritance of one of the Nine would bring his family. Somehow, you just know that he’s never once considered what it would mean to wed a Ritter. What it would mean for you.

You sigh when he doesn’t respond, shifting your weight to one hip casually and lifting your hand toward an opulent flower arrangement, one of the many carefully placed around the stage and courtyard. This one is filled to bursting with brilliant roses, and you gingerly touch one of the deep red petals that almost perfectly match the shade of the jewels in your simple necklace of fine gold.

Reiner contrasts you perfectly in the cool tones of his military-style coat. The epaulets of silver at his shoulders serve to emphasize his broadness, an impressive frame he grew into over the years. He didn’t end up as tall as Bertolt, but he certainly came out the other end of the rigorous Successor candidate training the brawniest of the wards.

“Congratulations,” you say coolly, turning away from the flowers and back to him.

“Thank you, my—,” Reiner stumbles, catching himself, and addresses you by name instead.

He’s not sure if you’re mocking him or if this is your way of extending some form of goodwill. He realizes with a pang that perhaps he’d be more certain if he hadn’t spent so many years viewing you as just a fixture in the background of his life at the estate. You’ve never quite been a person he tried to understand, and to be fair, he’s never been given the chance before.

You tilt your head, considering him. He’s worked hard for this. You can see that, even if you were only secondary to his goals. But you wonder if he truly understands what comes next.

It’s all too easy to pity him. The Armor might have been yours by birthright, in another life. In another world, where the Ritters hadn’t decided generations ago that they would pass off the burden to lowly vassals willing to compete for the honor. It’s why Lord Ritter has been able to live to such an old age.

Reiner, on the other hand, won’t live past his mid-thirties. You’ve grown up understanding the ins and outs of the curse. And that’s what it is in your eyes—a curse. The wards, on the other hand, were fed all kinds of pretty lies about glory and distinction. They were promised comfortable lives for themselves and their families if they clawed over each other for the Armor. It makes you wonder if Reiner knows what he’s really won.

“Well? What do you say to escorting your soon-to-be fiancée inside?” you ask, keeping your tone as detached as possible.

The question is poised with enough grace that he can’t very well refuse. “Of course,” he says, offering you his arm.

He tries not to flinch when you slide your hand over his forearm, your grip light but firm. His collar suddenly feels a little too tight, a little too warm as your scent drifts toward him. It’s clean and fresh and blends harmoniously with the fragrant flower arrangements surrounding you. He racks his brain, trying to recall if this is the first time you’ve ever touched him purposefully.

Together, you walk toward the feast hall among the other stragglers. The doors to the hall are massive, intricately carved with scenes of Eldian victories from centuries past. The first time Reiner set eyes on the carving was the day he arrived on the Ritter estate, clutching his uncle’s hand as they were ushered inside.

All he’d known until that day were the cramped, mud-caked streets of their tiny vassal village. It seemed a world away from the grandeur he encountered here. The estate’s stone walls rose up around him, chandeliers hanging from vaulted ceilings and floors polished so finely he could see his wide-eyed reflection staring back at him in them. It had left him breathless back then, a boy who’d only ever known scarcity.

Now, over a decade later, the magnificence still manages to leave him speechless. Especially today, with the hall dressed for celebration. The banners of blue and silver hang down in great swaths from the rafters, and the scent of roasted meats and sweet pastries waft out to greet you both.

The crowd of elaborately coiffed guests parts slightly for you and Reiner, heads turning to observe the new pair. You’re not unused to attention, though the tendency is to be overlooked. There’s nothing to particularly differentiate you from the throng of your fellow distinguished clan members. But on the arm of the Armored Titan’s successor, you’re suddenly the subject of scrutiny.

Your wounded pride draws back your hold, your touch vanishing like a wisp of smoke. Reiner turns to you with a question in his gaze, and you offer him a thin smile.

“I have my own duties to attend to,” you say curtly. “I’m sure you can find your way from here. I’ll see you at our table.”

You slip away into the crowd without another word, and Reiner watches you go with a twinge of regret. But there’s little time to dwell on the loss of your warmth.

Nobles and vassals alike offer respectful bows and words of praise as they pass by. Their eyes gleam almost calculatingly at him. When he finally spots his family gathered in a small cluster near the far wall, he lets out a silent exhale of relief.

Karina, his mother, is the first to see him. Her face is flushed as she pushes through the throng to meet him with a determined grace. Before Reiner can say anything, she envelops him in a tight embrace.

“Reiner,” she breathes, her voice quivering. “You did it. You really did it.”

He leans into her as easily as if no time had passed at all, since he was a little boy and it was just the two of them together in their little house in the village. “Yeah, Mom. I did.”

She pulls back to look at him and beams. “You’ve elevated us, our family’s status. Your father would have been so proud.”

At Karina’s side, his aunt and uncle nod approvingly.

“Well done, Reiner,” his uncle says. “You’ve restored honor to the Braun name.”

His aunt dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief. “It’s such a relief to see your hard work rewarded, after all these years. We always believed in you.”

“Reiner!” Gabi exclaims, running up to him with her brown eyes wide. “You’re going to be the Armored Titan! That’s incredible! I wish I could inherit a Titan, too.”

Her enthusiasm makes him smile, though it tugs at something deep within him. Seeing Gabi so bright-eyed and eager reminds Reiner of himself at that age, already a ward for three years and enduring the grueling training and sleepless nights. He crouches down so he’s at eye level with her.

“Gabi,” he says, mussing her hair, “you’ve got an important role now, too. You’re going to be the one to carry on our family legacy. With me becoming the Inheritor, you’re next in line to oversee the vassalage. That’s not a small thing. It’s just as important as being a warrior.”

“But, I want to fight,” she insists. She furrows her brow and stubbornly tilts her chin. “I want to protect our people and help extend the glory of Eldia, like you’re going to.”

Reiner places a hand on her shoulder. “I know you do. And one day, maybe you’ll get your chance. But for now, our family is counting on you to lead them. Keep everything running smoothing while I serve the Ritter clan.”

Gabi hesitates, looking down at her feet. But then, she meets his gaze resolutely. “I’ll do my best.”

Karina watches the exchange fondly. “You’ve grown so much, Reiner,” she murmurs as he straightens back up.

The faint melodies of a small string ensemble begins to play over the hum of the hall as the crowd moves toward their seats. Reiner’s mother gives him an encouraging smile before they part ways. He has to separate from his family now, finding himself directed toward a place of honor at the main tablewhere the Ritter clan sits. The divide is clear—Reiner is one of them now.

Taking his seat among the Ritters feels exhilarating but oddly disorienting. He’s surrounded by the symbols of his new status, like the elaborate tapestries and crystal candelabras and an endless procession of platters piled high with roasted game and rich sauces. It’s a far cry from the humble meals of boiled vegetables and tough bread from his early childhood. Even after all these years of training at the estate, the opulence still leaves him slightly awestruck.

As soon as he sits down, a servant bustles forward to fill his goblet with wine. Its aroma fills his senses, rich and heady. Reiner can’t help but wonder if the feast will be even more lavish at his inheritance ceremony, at his wedding…

The thought sends an unexpected shiver of anxiety down his spine. Next to him, you’re taking your seat, and a servant pushes your chair in for you. You’re close enough that Reiner can feel the whisper of your silk and tulle against his leg. When he catches a whiff of your perfume again, he feels something stir inside him.

Against his better judgment, Reiner chances a glance at you. His eyes take in the way your pinned-back hair shows off the curve of your neck. He drags his gaze to your face, to the small, knowing smile on your lips as you lift your glass to your mouth. Your tongue darts out for just a split second to lick at the ruby liquid at the rim.

Reiner swallows and turns away, raising a hand as casually as possible to his brow. He’s not sweating, but he almost feels like he should be. He can’t wait to get out of his formal uniform.

As the first course is served—thin slices of venison drizzled with a tangy blackberry reduction—the conversations around him swell. The Ritter nobles around the table are quick to heap praise upon him.

One of the elders leans forward, the silver of his hair gleaming in the light of the chandeliers above. Elder Waldstein is a cousin of Lord Ritter, and he speaks in an authoritative tone that Reiner has grown accustomed to obeying without question.

“Astonishing display during the southern war,” he remarks, raising his glass. “A warrior fit for the Armor indeed.”

Others nod and titter in agreement, recounting moments from the deciding battle as if they had been personal witnesses to the fighting. Reiner forces his smiles and appreciative remarks. Beside him, you idly swirl your wine, observing quietly.

You look at Reiner like he’s a tragedy waiting to happen. Barely twenty-one and already a decorated soldier, bearing thin bands of embroidered silk stitched into his coat just above his left breast pocket. He sports one for every campaign. Red and gold for the conquest of the southern territories. Green and silver for securing the mountainous border region against the rebellious Viech clan. Even a few in deep blue for naval operations.

Above the campaign ribbons, he wears an iron laurel, intricately wrought and carefully pinned. To signify Reiner’s exceptional valor on the battlefield during King Rod’s most recent expansion campaign. And the clan’s insignia medallion above that, finely crafted and featuring the coat of arms to symbolize his loyalty.

The adornment that really draws the eye, however, is the small, silvered badge on his collar. Its shape mimics the great helm of Lord Erich’s Armored Titan, and it denotes Reiner’s status as one of the candidates vying for its inheritance. A redundant bauble now that he’s wearing the ceremonial sash, signifying him as the official Successor.

“You’ve come a long way, Reiner,” you say in a tone low enough for only him to hear. “Who knew the meek boy that came here all those years ago would grow up to be the Successor?”

Reiner’s used to hearing that kind of sentiment—from the other wards and his instructors, especially. It still hits a nerve. He knows they’re right. He was the scared, uncertain boy from a disgraced family, desperately clinging to the hope that if he was just good enough, just obedient enough, he could secure a future for his family. He wonders when that part of him changed, when he stopped feeling like he had to apologize for taking up space.

“You were certainly determined, don’t get me wrong,” you go on. “I remember watching you try to impress the instructors, desperate to prove your worth, yet apologizing every time you made a mistake.”

“I didn’t realize you were watching me at all,” Reiner says, not meeting your eyes.

You scoff quietly. “Maybe you think it was pointless, considering it’s out of my control, but I was watching all the same,” you say, smearing a small cut of venison in the reduction, thick and red like blood. “Couldn’t help being curious if the man that might become my husband would end up being a brute. Can you blame me?”

Your words strike with an unerring precision, the way your arrows always find their marks. Reiner’s jaw tenses, and he shifts in his seat, the scrape of his chair barely audible beneath the clamor of the feast hall. Is that how you saw him after years of watching the brutality of the training field?

He’d been forced into that. Reiner didn’t fight because he liked it, because he liked leaving his fellow wards bruised and bloodied. He was just fixated on his goal of giving his mother and their family a better life, of lifting them from the dirt of their meager vassalage. But now, with your eyes on him, he realizes he never once thought about how you might have felt.

“I would never—,” he begins, then stops himself.

You might present a practiced mask of ladylike nobility, but he knows your training was always more than perfunctory. Yes, the Ritter children were taught decorum, strategy, and diplomacy—genteel tasks that would carry them forward in the aristocratic world. But given the martial nature of Eldian society, is it any wonder you were also trained to hold your own in a fight?

Reiner’s watched you shoot a bow better than most of the estate’s guards. He knows you’ve studied every campaign he’s ever fought on the front lines of, as closely as any of the commanders. And they might not have ever intended to make you a soldier, but you know how to handle yourself well enough in close quarters.

“I can’t imagine you’d let anyone lay a hand on you if you didn’t want them to,” he says, finally turning sunburst hazel eyes to meet yours.

You gaze at him sharply, studying him for a moment before leaning back with a smile. “Your astuteness is a pleasant surprise, Reiner. As always.”

“I suppose that’s your way of saying you expect me to be nothing more than an oafish jackboot,” he says dryly.

Before you can answer, a burst of laughter interrupts your quiet discussion as the elder Ritter beside him regales a small group with an exaggerated story of one of Reiner’s feats in the southern campaign. Your posture relaxes in your chair as you take a slow sip of your wine.

Reiner forces himself to rejoin the conversation, accepting the praise from his new peers and elders. As the feast continues, courses flowing seamlessly from one to the next, he can’t help the occasional drift of his eyes toward you—the woman who will soon be his fiancée, if tradition holds.

If you thought he never looked at you back, you were wrong. He’s been watching you from afar for years, has always found you attractive as far back as he can remember being interested in girls.

But before this moment, you’d been unattainable—the granddaughter of the head of the clan. Untouchable and surrounded at all times by guards or protective cousins. Only existing to be seen and not known by the humble wards.

Your interactions together had been limited. As children, the Ritters were only allowed to play with the wards on occasion and under constant scrutiny. During estate functions like these, they would be kept slightly separate by their overbearing chaperones.

Things have since swung in the complete opposite direction. Here he is, sitting at your side, close enough to touch. Each shift you make to reach for something on the table results in the light graze of your skirts against Reiner’s leg. And in the right light, he can make out the tiny, soft hairs on the back of your neck.

Unbidden, his mind conjures the image of his fingers skating gently down the column of smooth skin beneath the elegantly pinned tendrils of your hair. Reiner abruptly shoves that vision out of his head. It was hardly the most lascivious thing he could have fantasized about, but it was wildly arousing anyway.

As servants glide in with the final course, the scent of honey and spices fills the air. A delicate crystal plate filled with drizzled cakes jeweled with candied fruits is set down in front of him, helping Reiner to rid himself of lingering thoughts of the sweetness of your fragrance.

“Now that the selection is settled, the engagement ceremony must be arranged with due haste,” Waldstein says, languidly dipping a small spoon into his sugar-encrusted custard. “We’ll need to announce it to the vassals, naturally, and invite all the neighboring clans.”

Lord Ritter clears his throat. “We’ll have the ceremony within the month,” he declares. “The betrothal needs to be sealed.”

Reiner nods stiffly, his back straightening. “Of course, my lord.”

Lady Isolde’s eyes gleam with curiosity from across the table. “You are the new pride of our family, Reiner,” she says with a faint smile. “It’s only fitting that the engagement be marked with a proper exchange of gifts. Have you prepared a ring for your betrothed?”

He sneaks a glance at you at his side, but you seem entirely composed. He wishes he had spent half as much time as you did mentally preparing for this. Instead, he’s grappling with the rapid speed of it all, heart beating erratically beneath his steady exterior. He’d been so consumed with securing his victory that he hadn’t given much thought to a ring.

And yet, Reiner knows that the answer should have come to him immediately. Yes, my mother has an heirloom ring. But the thought of it fills him with an unexpected sense of shame.

The ring his mother had shown him years ago was simple—a modest band with a tiny emerald embedded in its center. It was a relic passed down through her family, but in the glittering world of the Ritter clan, where even the servants wore finer jewels than that, the ring feels painfully inadequate.

Reiner hesitates for a moment too long, then finally says, “There is a ring. A family heirloom.”

Lady Isolde lifts one eyebrow, the corners of her lips twitching with something that might be amusement or disdain. It’s hard for him to tell.

“How quaint,” she says. “A piece of your family’s history, then. I suppose it will do.”

He summons a smile, but it feels a little too tight across his face. He knows his ring, with its small, imperfect emerald, will be judged against the splendor of the Ritter clan’s treasures. It will look like a mere trinket beside the riches you grew up with.

But before he can dwell on it too deeply, you subtly put your hand on his forearm, a hidden gesture only the two of you can see behind the cover of the table, lusciously draped in fine cream silk. Her touch is so light, Reiner barely feels it beneath the thick fabric of his sleeve. Gooseflesh bursts over the small patch of his skin where your fingertips rest.

The tips of his ears feel a bit warm and, judging by the way your eyes dart briefly to them, he expects they’re tinged at least a little pink. You bite your lips together, absorbing his reaction toward you. It’s clear from the way he looks slightly caught off guard that he’s finally started to mull over the implications of your impending engagement and wedding in his mind.

Reiner’s looked broad and intimidating since puberty. He shot up before any of the other wards, discounting Bertolt, and towers over most of them even now. Behind that massive frame and the serious, self-confident demeanor he projects, though, lurks something of the same timid boy he’d once been.

“A family heirloom sounds fitting,” you tell him reassuringly.

He feels like he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not the first time Reiner’s seen glimpses of a softer side to you, though those moments have always been rare. He remembers them vividly, like fleeting flashes of light in the dark.

One particularly harsh winter, when Mina—one of the smallest of the girls among the wards—had her fingers turn blue from the cold. The instructors hadn’t so much as glanced her way, but when the drills were over, Reiner witnessed you quietly slipping off your own fur-lined gloves and pressing them into the girl’s hand.

Then, there was the summer three years ago. Reiner and the older wards were preparing to depart on a campaign with the rest of the Ritter forces. He’d overheard a servant girl no older than fourteen being scolded harshly by a steward for spilling water over the courtyard stones. You came along, dressed in your training attire, hair pinned up neatly as always, and dismissed the steward with a sharp word. As you handed the servant girl a fresh cloth, whatever you had said to her brought a grateful smile to her face.

Each time afterwards, you would easily slip back into your usual aloof posture and stride away before anyone could get a good look. In that same fashion, your fingers retreat from Reiner’s arm in the present and settle back into your lap. No one would have known about this small measure of comfort you had offered him except the two of you.

“Thank you,” Reiner murmurs quietly so that only you can hear.

He’s not sure exactly what he’s thanking you for.

The conversation at the table shifts to the other details of the upcoming ceremonies. Decorations, guest lists, musicians. The elders continue their discussion, oblivious to the silent exchange between you and Reiner. There’s still a long road ahead before his succession, but for the first time, he begins to think he won’t have to shoulder it all alone.

(𝖠/𝖭: 𝖲𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖨 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗆𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂-𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝖼?? 𝖮𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗈𝗇𝖾-𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍? 𝖴𝗀𝗁 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾!)

[aquilapolariz]

an amazing fic!! i'm in love with the concept of feudal eldia and this long-awaited meeting between reiner and reader. i would love to see more <3

[jespereff]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

i did it! i posted it. this is been brewing in my head for the last like...six months? i promised myself i'd finish part 1 of mando before pulling the trigger.

the chapters are shorter and i write them a little faster, so i'm expecting two-three weeks instead of like 4-6 between chapters.

[aquilapolariz]

a really amazing reiner x reader fic so far!!

[starconchs]

☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ [𝟕:𝟑𝟗 𝐩.𝐦.] 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

notes: fluff, ~650 words

yuuji says "i love you" first.

he says it confidently, fierce determination shining in his eyes as he looks at you reverently. it makes you balk, almost, the idea of someone as perfect of him loving you so purely. but the dizziness you feel in your head at his words means that your heart easily overpowers any thoughts you have, so you find yourself leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips, earning a delighted hum from him as he links his hand with yours.

your silence doesn't bother him; he understands that those words aren't the easiest to say, especially not when the two of you are living incredibly dangerous lives. the fact that you've chosen to be with him is more than enough in his eyes, even if you feel differently.

you think that yuuji deserves the world, and you're not the only one. there's a kindness in his heart that makes yours ache, and you don't think the world actually deserves him. you idly wonder if you're even worthy of repeating those three words back to him.

but then he looks at you, eyes sparkling excitedly as he holds out a pretty flower he picked off of the sidewalk, and all your worries disappear. itadori yuuji is not a fickle person, that's something he has proven time and time again from the moment he was brought to tokyo jujutsu high.

and his loyalties lie with you, the very person who has stood by his side throughout everything that's happened since his grandfather's death.

you don't think that there are actually enough words in the world to describe itadori yuuji, or to describe the way you feel about him. he is brash and bold, leaving his mark on the world wherever he goes regardless of whether or not he's aware of that fact. he's left his mark on you as well, and you silently wonder what would happen to you if you were to ever end up in a world in which yuuji ceases to exist.

(you don't wonder what would happen if he falls out of love with you. that's impossible, he's told you that himself. and you find yourself believing him with every fiber of your being, especially when he looks at you with a stare so serious that you almost think he's been replaced by someone else.)

so you sit and watch him, smiling when his eyes light up with interest as he points out a new manga that he mentions he's been meaning to read. he's so terribly beautiful that it almost makes your heart hurt, and you realize that maybe it isn't as hard as you think to profess your love in return to the boy who seems to be sunshine incarnate.

"yuuji?" you call out softly.

"yeah?" he replies, whirling around to give you his undivided attention.

you're momentarily caught off guard by the way his hair shifts as he moves, the soft pink strands reflecting in the sunlight as he approaches you. there's a shine in his eyes that makes you grin at him, and you find yourself wondering just how far you would go to keep that same expression on his face for as long as you can. confusion floods his face when you remain silent, and you nearly swoon when he grabs your hand and pulls you in, tilting his head in a silent question as he wraps you up in a loose hug.

there's a brief pause as yuuji holds you and allows you to gather your thoughts, and your smile only widens in relief when you realize that there is no fear swirling around in your head about all the uncertainties you're certain that you'll face in the future.

and when you finally open your mouth and say those three words in return, you think that the brightness of his smile rivals that of the sun.

rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

[ikemenlibrary]

Ikémen Prince Gift Exchange Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who chose to participate in this event and helped make it a success! Everyone is so talented, and I am in awe of all of you <3 Going through all your pieces have been truly enjoyable and I've loved every minute of it!

Prove It To Me | Jin Grandet x Reader | by @nightghoul381 for xxsycamore

They Say Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder | Nokto Klein x Emma (MC) | by @xxsycamore for nightghoul381

Unaccepted Together | Clavis Lelouch x Reader | by nightghoul381 for scummy-writes

Autumn Daze | Gilbert Von Obsidian x MC | by @scummy-writes for daegupaksu

A Starry Tryst (Artwork) | Nokto Klein x Noele (OC) | by @daegupaksu for drachonia

Bookmarked Dialogue | Keith Howell x Julie (OC) | by @ikemenlibrary for queengiuliettafirstlady

The Gentle Stag Rewrites The Stars | Keith Howell x MC | by @queengiuliettafirstlady for ridiculouslly-ridiculous

Princess Picnic Pick Me Up | Rio Ortiz, Clavis Lelouch, Silvio Ricci, Gilbert Von Obsidian, MC | by @ridiculouslly-ridiculous for misty-moth

Peter Clavis and the Lost Boys (Artwork) | Clavis Lelouch, Nokto Klein, Luke Randolph | by @misty-moth for pondlilies00

Take a Rest (Artwork) | Sariel Noir x MC | by @pondlilies00 for alydra (bluejay-writes)

This is fine. | Chevalier Michel x MC | by @bluejay-writes for randonauticrap

Ember Glows the Heart | Leon Dompteur x MC/Reader | by @randonauticrap for myonlyjknight

A Clavish Day Off | Clavis Lelouch x MC | by @myonlyjknight for claviscollections

Petrichor | Yves Kloss x MC/Reader | by @claviscollections for pillowpillowillow

The Voyager Prince (Artwork) | Silvio Ricci | by @pillowpillowillo for aquilapolariz

In Business, In Life | Silvio Ricci x Hyacinth (OC) | by @aquilapolariz for tacogawa

La Belle et la Bête (Artwork) | Leon Dompteur x MC | by @tacogawa for kokorokai

The Tyrant's New Wife (Artwork) | Silvio Ricci x Airin D'Avalos (OC) | by @kokorokai for airin-queenz

Chilly Morning's Date | Licht Klein x MC | by @airin-queenz for ikemenlibrary

Read to Me | Chevalier Michel x MC | by @ikeromantic for aquagirl1978

What Was I Made For | Gilbert Von Obsidian x Rosemary (OC) | by @aquagirl1978 for prisoniclover

Return | Leon Dompteur x Emma (MC) | by @prisoniclover for chirp-a-chirp

Cat-astrophe | Clavis Lelouch x MC | by @chirp-a-chirp (with art by @aide-falls) for katriniac (ohtomatotome)

Getting There is Half the Fun | Keith Howell x Emma (MC) | by @ohtomatotome for violettduchess

Practical Magic | Clavis Lelouch x Emma (MC) | by @violettduchess for ikeromantic

[laidenbreecatchall]

This was the first time I had drawn him in 10 years. Legit, I was 12. Poorly painting screenshots. What a time to be alive, look at me now.

Anyway uhhhh he can hit it any time all he gotta do is aaaask~

[bobabisch]

h a n d s

[revasserium]

Pining Zoro and blind-to-it Reader?

un-certainly

opla!zoro; 3,422 words; fluff fluff fluff so much fluff, straw hat!reader, fem!reader, (seeminlgy) clueless!reader, lots of pining, banter, teasing, smitten!zoro, the whole nine yards

summary: in which everyone knows zoro's got it bad for you, except for you, of course.

one.

“so… i should just… talk to her.” zoro says uncomprehendingly, blinking at an exasperated nami, who has to take a long, steadying breath to keep from shoving him overboard. the waves beneath them are calm, the day above them, a gorgeous, endless stretch of blue so brilliant it almost pains the eyes to stare.

nami resists the urge to pinch her nose bridge as a dull ringing starts to echo in her ears.

“yes. sweet god — just go up to her and say ‘hey, i think i might like you’ and i guarantee you, things will go from there.”

zoro shifts his tightly knitted arms, squinting at her as if she might be lying or purposefully luring him into a trap, “go? so there’s a chance it could go badly.”

this time, nami really does drop her face into her hands, groaning loudly.

“well there’s always a chance it could go badly —”

“sounds like a bad idea to me.” zoro looks away, eyes still narrowed as the light sea breeze ruffles his hair, a colony of news coo squawking loudly overhead, one of them dropping down to careen towards the going merry, landing on the thick white railings next to them, ruffling it’s feathers as nami pushes off to dig in her pocket for some berry.

“oh! newspapers here!” your voice makes both zoro and nami jump, and a second later you’re bounding up the stairs to the forecastle deck and stuffing some berry into the news coo’s bag. your arm brushes by zoro’s as you lean over to offer the news coo a piece of dried shrimp, which it considers for a second before leaning forward and gobbling up.

nami gives zoro a soft shove from his other side, leveling him with a meaningful look before turning and making a show of going to check on her tangerine grove.

zoro doesn’t have time to glare before the news coo takes off with a pat-pat-pat of wings, leaving you and him very much alone on the sunny fore-deck. he purses his lips, casting about for something to say even as you hum happily to yourself, your arm still painfully close to his as you unroll the newspaper and flip though, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil of the man standing next to you.

“uh — anything interesting?” zoro asks, desperate for something, anything to fill the silence.

you shrug, “nope… just the usual — uptick in piracy along the coast, tightening of marine patrols…” you turn and cast him a grin that makes his stomach twist inside him like a contortionist from buggy’s freakshow.

zoro clears his throat, thumbing absently at the hilt of his swords before taking a deep breath.

“hey — uh…”

“hm?” you turn towards him, with your wide attentive eyes and your stomach-curling smile.

zoro blinks, his gaze flickering from your soft button nose to the way the wind twines its fingers in the loose strands of your hair. two twin pearls glitter from the lobes of your ears and he feels the tension melt from him as he sucks in another breath.

just say it, nami had said, just tell her.

really, how hard could it be?

“i uh — there’s something i wanna talk —”

“wait, hold still,” you say, your eyes going wide as you lean forward suddenly and zoro’s visions tunnels in around him — you’re close, closer, too close/too close/too close!

your fingers card through his hair and he has to bite back the shiver that rockets down his spine as you pull your hand back with a black-tipped feather.

“the news coo left you a present,” you say, laughing as you offer him the feather.

zoro considers it for a second before taking it from you.

“it could’ve left worse,” he says, recalling the few times that he’d gotten bird shit in his hair.

you giggle; the sound makes him want to scream but instead, he settles for clearing his throat again.

“now, you make a wish,” you say, nodding towards the feather in his hand.

“never heard of that before,” he frowns slightly, “thought you could only wish on dandelion seeds and…” he waves at the endless stretch of sky above you, “shooting stars and stuff.”

your smile is so wide that zoro thinks his cheeks might start to hurt for you.

“haven’t you heard that rules are meant to be broken?” you ask, offering him the feather again. he looks at you, then at the feather, and the back at you.

“okay — i wish —”

you squawk flapping your hand, “no! you can’t tell me what the wish is! otherwise, it won’t come true!”

zoro smirks, cocking an eyebrow, “i thought rules were meant to be broken?”

you blush the most darling shade of red and he decides to take it easy on you (and, honestly, himself). so, he plucks the feather from your hand and closes his eyes, making a soft, silent wish. a wish that, in truth, he’d been making since the moment he met you.

when he opens his eyes, it’s to find you staring.

“kay. now what?” he asks, rolling the feather between his thumb and forefinger.

“now…” you gently tug the feather from him before opening your palm and letting the wind whisk it away, “you let the sea take your wish. and if you’re worthy, it’ll grant the wish for you!”

zoro lets out a breathy laugh, “if i’m worthy? and how’s it supposed to know that?”

you lean in, and if it were anyone else, he might’ve been annoyed, but with you, somehow, he finds himself charmed.

your voice is conspiratorial as you whisper, “because… the ocean knows all the secrets the sky can’t keep.”

two.

at dinner, with you by his side, usopp detailing some imaginary adventure, nami laughing, sanji blowing smoke rings towards the middle of the fire-lit deck. your cheeks are pink from the wine everyone is passing around and for a second, you bump into him and turn — he turns towards you too —

your eyes catch like unsuspecting fish to a bobbing hook and zoro feels his stomach tug as you grin up at him, the night sky caught in the flutter of your lashes.

he can’t help the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, and then back up again.

“feel like sharing?” you ask, nodding towards his half-finished bottle.

wordlessly, he hands the bottle to you and watches as you bring the mouth to your lips and take a long drink. he tracks the soft bobbing of your moon-lit throat and feels his own mouth go dry at the sight.

across the fire, sanji watches with a growing smile and nami rolls her eyes.

“oi, moss-head — mind if i take a swig too?” sanji asks as you hand back the bottle, dragging the back of your hand across your lips, and zoro turns to pin sanji with a glare.

“get your own,” he says, before polishing off the rest with a few hard sips and tossing the bottle into a rapidly growing pile.

zoro licks his lips and tries not to think about the way your lips had fit around the bottle just right; he tries not to wonder if you’d taste like wine. or, if he’d even have the mind to think that far if you were to let him kiss you.

three.

“… and then, you pull it through… like this?” you slowly bring your arm through a swiping movement, your hands clutched around the hilt of a wooden training sword. zoro sighs, shaking his head.

“uh — not quite — here,” he pushes off from the barrel he’s sitting on to circle around behind you, wrapping one hand around both of yours, the other palm curling around your middle to press against your stomach, “you’re breaking in your waist again — keep your core tight and —” he helps you swing the sword through in a swift arc.

“oh.”

it takes him a second to realize how close you are, how he can feel your entire back pressed against his entire front, how perfectly you fit into his arms, how easy it’d be to hold you to him and never let go.

“so just… practice that a few hundred times,” he says, stumbling back as his cheeks go hot and he feels the inexplicable urge to toss himself into the calm, saltine waves below, if only to cool down just a bit.

“will you practice with me?” you ask, your smile wider than the sky is wide — zoro is sure.

he blinks at you for a second before making a show of sighing and rolling his eyes.

“ah… i guess i could use a bit of practice too.”

he pulls out the wadou ichimonji and takes his stance next to you.

“ready?” he asks.

you nod, glancing over and adjusting your posture.

“okay, how many are we doing?”

zoro casts around for a number, “a thousand.”

“zoro!”

“five… hundred?”

you cast him a look that makes his stomach flip inside him.

“how about we start with a hundred, and then i’ll see how i feel from there?”

zoro clicks his tongue, smirking, “i could do a hundred in my sleep.”

you make a show of rolling your eyes, “fine then — go take a nap!”

zoro huffs as he clears his throat, “right then — let’s start — one, two —”

you squeak as you hurry to catch up, jumping as he reaches out a hand to correct your posture.

up on the foredeck, luffy watches with usopp by his side.

“hey! i wonder if zoro would teach me sword tricks if i asked!”

usopp sighs, clapping luffy on the back even as he shakes his head.

“uh — not that i think he wouldn’t but … maybe you should just… let them do their thing, yeah?”

four.

“i think you really should tell her,” luffy says, slapping zoro on the shoulder, a bit harder than he’d intended. zoro winces, pressing a palm to his chest — still sore from their recent raid.

“i don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

luffy laughs, leaning forward against the railing, “nami said you’d say that.”

zoro fights the urge to scowl as he sighs, his eyes narrowed at the damnably calm horizon. at least if the weather weren’t so nice, he could make up an excuse to leave but —

“really, what’s the worse that could happen?” luffy asks.

zoro grunts, shooting luffy a sidelong look, “oh i don’t know, she doesn’t feel the same and shit gets awkward and —” he waves a hand at the going merry, “the crew falls apart.”

thankfully, luffy doesn’t pause to call him out on for once not denying it.

instead, he lets out a contemplative hum, “hm… yeah, that could happen. but… i don’t think it will.”

inside his chest, zoro’s heart clunks, strange and uncoordinated.

“why? she say something to you?” he can’t keep the curiosity from his voice, the stomach-squeezing anticipation he’d only ever associated with the heat of battle and a really good fight. but now, he feels it whenever you get too close, and he wonders if he can go insane like this — if one day his heart might just give out.

“nope!” luffy’s voice is too bright, too cheerful, and zoro feels himself rolling his eyes before he can stop himself, “i’ve just got a feeling!”

“a feeling.”

“yeah! and — have a little faith! the straw hat crew isn’t that fragile.”

with that, and another hearty clap to the shoulder that leaves zoro hissing in pain, luffy clomps off towards the kitchens, where sanji is already doing dinner prep. zoro lets out another sigh as he straightens, carefully stretching his arms to test the range of motion.

above him, a flock of migratory geese fly southward in a soft, arrowhead formation. zoro holds up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he watches them pass overhead.

a single feather flutters down towards him and he finds himself reaching out to catch in the palm of his hand.

a wish, huh, he thinks, twirling the feather between two fingers before casting around to make sure no one else can see him. satisfied that everyone else is either too far away or below decks, zoro closes his eyes and makes a wish —

alright roronoa, please. don’t fuck this up.

five.

“ahem.” zoro clears his throat after dinner, making a point to down a couple more drinks than usual. he’s never been one to believe in liquid courage, but… it couldn’t hurt, right?

“can we, uh, talk?”

you smile a smile that threatens to crack his chest wide open, nodding.

“sure! what’s up?”

across the room, sanji visibly stills but nami catches his eye and shakes her head ever so slightly.

“c’mon… not in here,” zoro says, jerking his head towards the hallway that leads to the decks above.

“what’s got you so secretive all of a sudden?” you ask as he leads you all the way up to the crows nest, reaching down to help tug you up, letting his hand linger in yours as you grin up at him.

“i’m allowed to have secrets,” he says, turning to stare out at the darkened sea, the summer moon hanging low and full-bellied over the glittering waters, the stars winking like so many all-seeing eyes.

“we all are, but… i thought we’d gotten all your big ones after that one night the whiskey bar —”

zoro coughs, “alright, alright — don’t need to bring that up again.”

you laugh, leaning forward to pillow your cheek against your crossed arms, propped up along the edge of the crows nest.

“so? what’s this new secret, then?”

zoro swallows, “uh — wouldn’t exactly call it new.”

“alright then, an old secret.”

“not super old, either —”

you turn to look at him, half-exasperated, half-amused, but when you catch sight of his expression, you still, pressing your lips.

“zoro? is… everything okay?”

he ticks his tongue against his teeth and lets out a long breath, as if bracing himself for something before he says —

“yeah. i think —” he clears his throat again, trying to recall what nami had said about just saying it and he tries again.

“i think i might like you.”

the coil in his chest feels tight enough to snap, but you’re quiet as he turns to steal a glance at you.

“oh,” you say, you expression curiously contemplative as you look out over the darkened seascape.

zoro has to physically stop himself from shaking you by the shoulders — say something, goddamnit! say anything!

“so…” he says, knitting his arms across his chest instead.

you turn towards him, your eyes bright as twin stars.

“you think you might like me, right?” you ask, and for a second, zoro can only blink down at you, completely thrown by your lack of reaction. of all the things he’d imagined you doing — everything from getting angry to apologizing to throwing yourself at him with an impassioned speech about how you’d felt the same since the beginning — this was not one of them.

“uh… yeah, pretty sure that’s what i said.”

you cock your head, a quick, bird-like gesture that makes zoro’s heart skitter inside his chest, threatening to leap from his mouth as you continue to stare up at him, completely unabashed.

“ah… so what do you think we should do then?”

zoro stares, “… do?”

“yeah, because if you’re not sure if you like me… we should do something to make sure, right?”

and it’s then that he sees the soft, playful uptick of your lips, the glittering darkness behind your eyes. the tension in his chest seems to loosen even as he lets out a breath, chuckling before quirking an eyebrow and taking a step towards you, caging you in against the crows nest’s edge.

“mm. you’re right — i can think of a few things we could try, though.”

“yeah?” you voice is little more than an exhale on the wind, but it’s the last thing zoro tastes before he finds his lips on yours.

as far as kisses go, zoro would later think back, it was a pretty damn good one.

it started as a slow kind of kiss, a soft, unfurling of breath on breath, and then lips on lips. the ghost-friction of promises made and kept and unbroken, the first spark to a fire that had been threatening to consume him since the moment he’d heard you laugh.

and then — just like that, he’s kissing you. and you’re kissing him back, the gravity and inevitability of it making his head spin even as he presses in closer. it is sweet and warm and trembling — soft and hard and deepening. he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth and savors the way you gasp open for him.

just him.

he swallows it like he wants to swallow you, reaching up to sink his fingers into the silk and gossamer of your hair, pulling you so close he can feel your heartbeat thrumming against his chest, your nails as they curl into the linen of his shirt.

it takes everything inside him to pull back, and everything else left not to dive right back in again. you’re both panting, a little breathless, and zoro — a lot relieved.

“so…” you say, your tongue flickering out to lave across your bottom lip.

zoro doesn’t try to stop his eyes as he tracks the spine-tingling motion.

“so?”

you grin, biting back the shiver that chases through you at the deep, base rumble of his voice, echoing from his body to yours.

“what’s the verdict? have you decided if you like me yet?” you ask, batting your lashes even as he watches your own eyes drop down to his lips. a dark, warm, purring satisfaction curls inside his chest at the way your pupils dilate, black as the night, bright as all her favorite stars.

“hm,” zoro hums, leaning down to skim a knuckle along your jaw, slowly guiding your face towards his again, “dunno… jury’s still out… might have to try it a few more times. y’know… just to be sure.”

“mm…” you sigh as he leans down to graze his teeth along your pulse point, fingers tightening around your waist as he feels you tremble in his arms, “y-yeah… wouldn’t want you to be —” you hiccup as he sinks a soft bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “uncertain.”

“no…” and his voice is all groan and gravel as he lets himself breathe you in, “we certainly wouldn’t want that.”

bonus.

far below, beneath the decks of the going merry, sanji takes a long pull from a post-dinner cigarette, his lips twisting into a concerned sort of frown.

“it’s been a while since they’ve been up there. think we should go check on them?”

luffy shugs, still happily picking at the remains of the turkey carcass sitting in the middle of an oblong plate.

“they should be okay — i mean, they say that no news is good news, right?”

“uh, not sure that applies to this kinda thing,” usopp says as he makes to peak out of the nearest window.

nami swirls her drink, “i think they’re fine. and we’d hear if zoro threw himself off the crows nest, right?”

across the table, sanji blinks and luffy pauses in his munching.

“whoa, you think he’d really do that if she rejects him?” usopp asks, his face going a little pale.

nami rolls here eyes, “no.” and then a moment later, “but really, we’d hear him if he jumped, right?”

luffy licks his lips, shrugging, “dunno, probably though. he’s pretty heavy so he’ll make a pretty big splash.”

sanji taps a bit of ash into his empty bowl and lets out a long suffering breath.

“yeah, y’know really, no news is good news.”

[grandlinedreams]

For my 100 followers milestone, I give you this!! Buckle up this sucker is 3.4k lmao

[heads up!: grim reaper!Law, slow burn, angst, fluff]

The day Law meets you, it's because you almost die. 

It's a cold winter day, the sun pale and bright against the gray of sky ㅡ and the iced over pond is too much of a temptation to ignore.

You're wearing a heavy coat, one that helps keep the bitter chill from your skin save for your lips and nose ㅡ how very ironic that it's your coat that almost kills you. 

Places like this are always buzzing with the energy of potential tragedy ㅡ even with the watchful eye of parents and loved ones, misfortune still has a way of happening.

The ice, for one, is far too thin to bear the weight of so many feet, made thinner in spots for what meager warmth the sun does provide.

It's one of those spots that you happen upon, located on the other end of the pond, away from your friends. The ice doesn't so much crack as dissolve, frigid water up to your knee as your balance is lost and sends you into the water entirely.

Dark and cold, water soaks your clothing quickly ㅡ including the heavy winter coat you've got around you. It drags you down,  thrashing made harder for the frozen ache of your muscles ㅡ and the cloud of bubbles that explode from your mouth as your lungs burn. 

And then there's a hand snagging into the back of your coat and hauling you up, not unlike a housecat ㅡ and you're on the frosty bank, coughing blindly until you vomit foamy pond water into the mud. 

"You shouldn't play around places like this," an unfamiliar voice tells you, striking you hard between the shoulder blades to elicit another wave of pond water and watery-eyed hacking. "You could die."

You gasp raggedly, clawing at the ground to work yourself further from the embankment, then focus on your rescuer. All you can make out is a shock of dark hair and golden eyes ㅡ and then your name, being shouted with increasing alarm. 

"You were lucky," the stranger says. "Next time, it won't be like that." 

By the time your friends have made it to you and have called for an ambulance, the stranger has vanished ㅡ leaving you with nothing but the frosty air and a brush with death.

 ㅡ

Law isn't sure why he'd saved you that winter day. He can fall back on the fact it hadn't been your time, but that doesn't account for the fact that now, he's watching you.

Call it curiosity or perhaps morbid fascination, there's a pull that drives Law towards you. It shouldn't interfere with his work, of course, because nothing ever does ㅡ but then suddenly, you do. 

He doesn't know if saving you has allowed something of a supernatural ability to rub off on you where you're aware of his presence ㅡ but the knack that you have for stepping in and messing with the intended order of things is both alarming and annoying. 

The older lady he'd been sent to collect from an unattended heart attack? Somehow, you manage to call an ambulance in time and save her life after she collapses in the middle of an aisle in the grocery store.

Then there's the guy you save from an unfortunate end via the business end of a knife following an altercation at a bar ㅡ tempers diffused and the proper authorities called, he scowls as another of his intended targets walks away. 

There are two or three more after that ㅡ and each time, he swears that you spot him, staring at him with a tiny, self-satisfied smile that drives him crazy.

He doesn't have time for this, damn it. (He actually does, but there are things that have to run on a schedule ㅡ and you're messing with the natural order.)

He needs to get rid of you. 

Cruel? Yes, especially given the fact that he's already saved you once ㅡ but he can't just let you run amok like this. He knows what will happen if he does ㅡ they'll send someone else to handle you, and he doesn't want that. 

So he ends up following you at a distance as you make your way home. Again, he thinks himself inconspicuous enough to not warrant attention ㅡ but by the third time that you turn around, he can tell that you've spotted him.

"If you're trying to stalk me, you're terrible at it. Come on out, I'm unarmed."

"I'm not trying to stalk you," he says flatly, "and telling someone that is hardly a good idea. Are you trying to get killed?"

Ironic, coming from him. 

There's that smile of yours, the one that makes Law think you're laughing at him. "Isn't that why you're here?"

He blinks. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

You roll your eyes. "I saw you, that day I almost drowned." You shift to tug your sleeve up, exposing your arm. "You left me with a souvenir."

The skin of your forearm is gnarled like the scar tissue of a burn, several shades darker than the rest ㅡ and in the shape of a hand. You pull your sleeve down. "There's one on my back, too. But ever since that day, I've been able to see the border between life and death." Your eyes lock with his. "And you."

This is bad. Very bad. Though he'd assumed you were able to see him, having you confirm it only makes this situation so much worse. If the others find out about this ㅡ 

A couple of things happen in rapid succession. The light turns green as you step off of the sidewalk onto the crossway, a car whips around the corner on a straight trajectory towards you ㅡ and Law snags his hand into the back of your shirt and yanks you back as the car breezes past where you'd just been standing. 

And for the second time, Law saves your life. 

                                ㅡ

You invite death into your apartment. 

It's a strange sentence to be sure, but death is far less imposing when it takes the shape of a man who wears a hat modeled after a snow leopard. 

"Would you like something to drink?" You're nothing if not polite, though you tip your head as you eye Law with no small amount of amusement. "Or do you need things like that?"

Law is less amused than you, golden eyes sharp as he stares. "We need to talk. This isn't a matter to be taken lightly." 

"Of course not," you say, and he watches as you pull a pitcher of water from the fridge and pour a glass, then pour a second. "Serious talk makes me thirsty, though."

Law takes the glass that you offer him, but he doesn't drink from it as he watches you cross the room to seat yourself in a battered, well-loved ottoman. He waits a moment, then seats himself on the couch when you raise an eyebrow.

"Let me get the obvious out of the way," he begins, "you shouldn't be able to see me."

You stare. "I thought we made that clear from this," you say, gesturing to your arm. When his gaze lingers, you shrug. "It doesn't hurt, if that's what you're wondering."

"I wasn't."

Your lips curve against your water glass. "You're so kind." His eyes narrow, and you sigh. "Okay, so I shouldn't be able to see you. What else should I know?"

"That what you're doing is dangerous."

You look away. "I don't know what you mean."

Law scowls. "Don't play stupid with me. You know that you're messing with the natural order of things, don't you?"

The casual way that you shrug annoys Law further. "I think everyone deserves a second chance, don't you?" 

He glares. "No. And if they did, you already used your second chance. What would you call that narrow miss with the car?"

You watch him, the upward curve of your lips that he hates so much. "I call that luck," you answer. 

ㅡ 

Corazon is waiting for him outside your apartment. He towers, a contradiction for the makeup he wears and the shroud of feathers, the lazy curl of smoke from a cigarette between his lips. (He enjoys smoking while in human form. Law has never understood, but he doesn't question it.)

"There you are." Cora turns towards him as he approaches, his eyes flicking to the apartment behind him. "Never thought you'd be one toㅡ"

"It's not like that," Law counters before Cora can make some dumb insinuation. He debates for a moment before he sighs as Cora raises an eyebrow in question.

"Then what is it like? You never interact with humans."

Law's teeth grit. This is all your fault. If you'd stop getting in his way, if he'd just let you drown ㅡ he huffs, kicking at a loose chunk of pavement before he looks up at Cora. "Fine. I'll tell you."

Whatever Cora had been expecting, what Law tells him is far from it by the way the older reaper's eyes widen. And then he laughs. Long and loud until he's doubled over, and Law scowls.

"I don't see what's so funny, Cora."

"All of that is," Cora wheezes, swinging a hand to your apartment before he wipes mirth-born tears from his eyes. "I never thought I'd see the day you had a crush on a human."

"I do not have a crush." Cora gives him a knowing look that only pisses Law off further as his eyes flash.

"Sure you don't," Cora humors him, though it's clear the older reaper doesn't believe him. Calmed down, he sucks on the cigarette, the end of it flaring before he exhales a long stream of smoke. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

This time there's some warning to Cora's tone, reminding Law that he can't get into deep, reminding him of what and who he is.

"I do."

                                 ㅡ 

Law has no idea what he's doing. 

"Have you ever been to a bar?" You're laughing at him again with that smile of yours, head propped on your arm as you drum a tempo on the table with your other hand.

Around you there's nothing but noise ㅡ tinny music playing from speakers set in the corners of the rafters, televisions broadcasting various sports ㅡ and of course, drunk people. 

"No," Law finally answers, studying the din around him with no small amount of annoyance, "I haven't." 

This time you laugh outright, then take a sip of your drink ㅡ and Law does his best not to follow the work of your throat as you swallow. "Alright then, what does death do for fun?"

There are a thousand things Law could tell you. That he's not the only reaper around, that he'd been warned not to do things like this with someone like you. That he should've let you die the several chances he's had to make it happen.

He doesn't. Instead, he lets his eyes linger on your face, trace your features, tread the dangerous water of interest as he has the last few weeks. 

"I don't know," he answers, "but it definitely isn't this."

ㅡ

There are so many ways that Law can kill you. They're everywhere that he looks, and yet he can't bring himself to do it. Instead, he lets you chatter away, lips curving despite himself.

Maybe you're not quite as annoying as he'd thought ㅡ but as his eyes drift to the plush of your lips before darting away, his brow furrows.  Not just annoying ㅡ you're dangerous.

Dangerous because you've been touched by death, dangerous because you get in his way, dangerous because all he wants is to kiss you.

It's your abrupt stop that makes Law almost collide with you and he takes a step back, lips parting to ask what the problem is ㅡ and then he stops.

"Cora," he says, feels your eyes on him as he stares at the man a few feet away from you both. 

"What a nice little jaunt," Cora says, head tilting as he watches the way you reach for Law's hand ㅡ and the way Law doesn't stop you despite the danger of it. "I think we need to have a talk. All three of us."

ㅡ 

Corazon "Cora" is a reaper.

You know that much ㅡ you can see it, the dark shroud that silhouettes him like it does with Law. 

As for what he's doing here, that remains a mystery to you. But from the way Law tenses as Cora talks to him, you can guess that it probably isn't good.

You stand nearby idly, pretending that you can't hear your own name being tossed around, mostly from Law who corrects Cora's careless usage of "that human". You have a horrible feeling that Law's getting into trouble for the last few weeks, and for before, when he'd saved you.

Why had he? Surely he hadn't had to ㅡ he could have let you drown and that be it. None of this. 

Law finally approaches you, and you watch him carefully, trying to glean what their conversation had been about by the look on his face. But his expression is carefully blank, unreadable as he reaches you. "What did he say?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about," he answers, and your eyes narrow before you pull away from him and dart towards Cora. "[Name]!"

"What did you say to him?" You demand and Cora blinks, studying you for a moment. "You guys were talking for a while, so spit it out. What did you say?"

He doesn't have to answer you. Cora knows that, that he owes you absolutely nothing ㅡ but his eyes flick to Law, who's staring at you. This is for your own good, kid. 

"I told him what would happen if he kept this up with you." He pauses to light a cigarette, and you watch the little flame waver.

"And what exactly would happen?"

Cora sighs. "If the higher ups found out about it, they'd strip him of his powers."

Your gaze doesn't waver, boring holes into him. He sort of understands Law's fascination with you ㅡ even without the touch of death, you're an odd one. "And without his powers?"

Smoke curls towards the sky, ghostly tendrils that curl before they disappear. "He'd cease to exist. Reapers are nothing without their powers."

You look back to Law, who's watching you ㅡ and your brow furrows. He wants to say this is nothing? "Is this because of me?"

Cora could lie, but he doesn't. "Yes."

Your fingers curl into fists, aware of the shiny skin of your forearm, the patch between your shoulder blades. "What if he killed me?"

"He won't. I already suggested that."

Your eyes lock with Cora's, unwavering. "What if a different reaper did?"

ㅡ 

Law doesn't like that you're talking to Cora. He doesn't like that the other reaper won't leave and let him face the repercussions of his actions as he wants to. He knows Cora has told you, can see it in the tension of your body, the way you look at him. 

When you return, Law knows something is wrong. "What did you talk about?"

Instead of answering, you wind your arms around him, pressing into him. The pressure should be comforting, but Law tenses, trying to squirm out of your grip. "[Name], answer me."

"Cora told me the truth." He stills. "Were you really just going to keep me in the dark about it?" He feels your hands fist at his back. "You're an idiot."

He knows that. He doesn't care. "What's done is done," he answers. "I'm simply facing the consequences."

"Stupid." You pull away from him and blink, and he reaches to swipe his thumb beneath your eyes. 

"Crying? Really?"

You pull away completely, scrubbing at your eyes. He expects you to call him an idiot again, demand to go home, to talk about what's next ㅡ but you don't. Instead, you exhale slowly. "I'm sorry."

Law blinks, brow furrowing. "About what?"

"This," you sweep your arm out. "You should be in trouble because of me." He wants to protest that he did it of his own volition, that you hadn't forced his hand in any of it ㅡ and then with a jolt, he realizes that Cora hasn't left.

"[Name]," Law starts, "what did you do?"

"I'm cleaning up my mess," you say firmly, "I'm not going to let you get your powers stripped because of me. So Cora and I made a deal." 

Law doesn't have to ask what kind of deal it was, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. His eyes narrow, anger and hurt clashing. "So dying is an easier solution?"

"It is," you tell him, rigid in your resolve. "It's what should have happened in the first place, Law." 

He hates this. Hates that this is how it ends, that you look so at peace with your decision. You approach him again, reaching to stroke his cheek ㅡ and he leans into your touch. "Don't be sad," you tell him, "I'm annoying, remember?"

His eyes close. "No you're not."

You huff a soft laugh. "See, you're a softie after all." You pull away, and his cheek feels colder than it ever has. "Maybe we'll meet again someday. Do this the right way."

The likelihood of that is slim, next to nothing ㅡ but Law lets himself indulge in the idea of it anyway. "Yeah," he answers, "maybe."

ㅡ

Law doesn't get to see you go.

You'd made it clear that you didn't want him to see, didn't want him to watch you die. "You spent too much time making sure I didn't," you tell him, "feels like it'd be a copout if you did it again."

He can't argue that, because he knows he would. You both do. That he'd defy his orders over and over, let you live a little longer again and again.

Maybe he shouldn't have saved you from drowning in that pond. (He's glad he did.)

Law has seen a thousand and thousands mortals die and will see thousands and thousands more, but yours is the one that actually hurts. 

Cora warned him. He warned Law, and he didn't listen ㅡ and now he's paying for it. But it'd been you who'd chosen to leave him ㅡ even though it'd been to protect him. 

Idiot, he thinks, but it lacks any bite. Much as he loathes it because it's a very human emotion, he misses you. 

(Not like he'd ever admit it.) 

"Law." He looks up to find Cora approaching, a look on his face that automatically makes him wary. "I have a gift for you."

Law's eyes narrow. "I don't want it."

Cora's head tilts, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Are you sure? Because I'm sure you'll like this one."

There's someone standing beside Cora. The dark robes draped around them says that it's a new reaper ㅡ and Law resists the urge to roll his eyes. Cora's been oddly insistent that he take on a protege ㅡ perhaps he's not been as adept at hiding how your death affected him as he thinks he's been. 

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," Cora says, patting the new reaper on the shoulder before he heads back the way he'd come. Law sighs, then shifts his attention to the newbie. 

"First off, you don't need the hood up. It's a dumb stereotype." He looks away, mentally questioning if he has the energy for someone to hang off his every word.

There's a soft laugh, strangely familiar ㅡ and then an even more familiar voice. "And here I thought it gave me a mysterious charm."

Law freezes, then turns as the newbie yanks down the hood. It's you. For a second, Law thinks he's hallucinating ㅡ but you're smiling that frustrating, irritating, beautiful smile of yours.

"Surprise," you say, rocking on your heels. "This was part of the deal that Cora and I made."

"You're a reaper too," he says, and you nod before you hold your arms out and do a small spin, making the robes flare.

"What do you think? I think it suits me." Law approaches, grabs a fistful of fabric and pulls ㅡ and finally, finally, gets to kiss you the way he wants to. 

You blink dazedly when he pulls away, and he smirks. "You said that maybe we could do this the right way someday," he tells you. "I intend to hold you to that."

You smile. "Fine by me."

[missbubblesoda]

Early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (1)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters). no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.1k

One could say it was the most important night of that summer. Even the cloudless sky had allowed the stars to witness the scene unfolding beneath, and only the occasional barking of faraway dogs interrupted the silence. It was the night decisions were awaiting to be made. The type of life-defining decisions that no teenager should ever be expected, or rather forced, to make. Luckily for you, you were a couple of years ahead, ahead enough to not be considered a teenager anymore. And maybe this was the reason why looking around and seeing the tightly clenched fists, trembling jaws, and sweaty foreheads of your 15-year-old Training Corps classmates made you realize that you honestly didn’t know what you were doing in the middle of it all.

The choice was simple for those who actually had one. As it was tradition, the top ten students of the class would be allowed to choose the best out of the three options presented: to join the Military Police and enjoy the safety and commodities that came with life in the innermost wall, to settle for a more humble lifestyle by doing whatever it is that they do in the Garrison, or to put their lives in the line for humanity in the Survey Corps. With young brains still under construction, no one could be trusted to make the right call. The definition of ‘right call’ being ‘one you wouldn’t regret years in the future, or next week when a titan had you in their grip.’ However, you believed that joining the Military Police came with significantly lower risks of regret. And that’s why the MP was the one you were aiming for. Or would have, if you were part of that coveted top 10. That would have been ideal.

Ideal. In an ideal world, no one would have to make such a crucial decision at that age. In fact, there wouldn’t even be crucial decisions to make, in the first place. But this wasn’t an ideal world. It was far from that. A quick glance around at the faces you had gotten used to seeing for the last 3 years was enough of a reminder, in case you had forgotten. But who could forget? All of them standing next to you had either lost someone or everyone precious in their lives when the Wall fell. Luckily for you, however, you had your immediate family alive and well in the capital. And although you didn’t own enough wealth to be accepted into the social circles of the rich, you lived a comfortable life, and most importantly, a safe one. That’s why it came as a shock to your family when you enlisted as a-

“We will reach that basement in Shiganshina. However, this requires us to retake Wall Maria”

Retake what? Your backstory was left pending for another night. Because, before you could start narrating it to yourself, a solemn, modulated voice pulled you out of your thoughts, your head instinctively turning to the stage to locate the source. And that was the first time you saw him: The 13th commander of the Survey Corps, Erwin Smith himself.

“But with the Trost gate permanently sealed, we’ll have to take the long way around from Karanes in the east”

You had heard stories about Erwin Smith. A man of unyielding drive, an iron-willed leader, a liberator, you believed you heard someone called him once. And of course there was also ‘reckless’, ‘demented’, and ‘out of it’, all of which were adjectives commonly tied to his name, especially in the capital. ‘Insane’ was your father’s preferred one, usually heard around dinner time when the topic of Erwin Smith’s latest outrageous expedition somehow found its way into the family table. And you remembered feeling sorry for the man on more than one occasion. Because, from the safety of your Sina home, the closest titan surely miles away, as you fluffed pillows and slipped under warm blankets of undisturbed rest, you had struggled to think of anyone living a more different lifestyle to yours than the commander of the Survey Corps, that one man relentlessly trying to attain the unattainable: to free humanity from the walls.

“It seems the four years we spent preparing a route for an invasion force have gone to waste”

And that night he also seemed to be trying to attain the unattainable: convincing a group of frightened individuals to join a suicide squad.

“In those four years, more than sixty percent of the Legion’s forces lost their lives”

You wondered if there was at least a single easy thing in the man’s life.

“Sixty percent in four years. An insane figure”

His voice was controlled and pleasant to listen to. Even though the things he was talking about were far from pleasant. Life scouting beyond the walls sounded as rough as it probably was. And you guessed that there was no way to make it sound appealing, no silver linings to be mentioned or talked about.

“Any trainees who join us will participate in next month’s expedition beyond the walls”

You had heard that his branch was in desperate need for new recruits, yet you could tell he had decided to let honesty do the talking that night. Because not even when discussing the dire prospect of survival of a Survey Corps member…

“We estimate thirty percent will not return”

…not even then he seemed tempted to make false promises.

“And in four years, most new recruits will be dead”

In fact, the more he spoke, the more honest and raw his words seemed to get. And while, so far, he hadn’t mentioned a single appealing thing about joining his cause, you felt you were beginning to understand it…

“But those who make it through that hell will become superior soldiers, capable of surviving anything”

You see, you had heard all the stories, but you had never seen the man before. And rumors had left out the part about how compelling he was. As he extended an open invitation to a potentially deadly celebration, his voice had a commanding yet gentle feel to it, the type associated with reliable leaders. He had an enthralling demeanor to him, the one that’s used to persuade. His words were softly spoken but rose-thorn sharp. There was something about him, the way he spoke, and carried himself. Erwin Smith certainly looked like someone who could talk the winter into skipping a year, or the rain into waiting until he got home. So yes, you were starting to get it...

“Now you have the cold, hard facts.”

After all the contemplations, it finally clicked.

“Any still willing to risk their lives, remain here.”

It makes sense you thought, why men followed him to their deaths.

“Ask yourselves, am I willing to offer my beating heart for humanity?”

Why they ‘dedicated their hearts’ as they say.

“That is all.”

Erwin Smith was intriguing. Very intriguing.

“All of you wishing to join other branches are dismissed.”

Muffled footsteps brought you back from the realm of thought. You looked around to find the previously full plaza now more than half-empty. You could hear Reiner’s heavy breathing beside you. Jean fiddling with his shirt behind you. Sasha clicking her teeth to your left. And despite the close proximity between your bodies, it all sounded so distant. As if you had been thrown underwater.

“Are you willing to die if I ordered to?”

Erwin Smith’s question, on the contrary, felt as if it had been whispered right into your ear. It felt personal and targeted. And for a brief second you forgot that, although almost everyone had already left, you were still not the only one in the plaza.

I don’t want to die. You answered in your head.

“I like the looks on your faces” You heard him say.

I don’t want to die. You repeated as you picked up your pace to catch up to Hitch at the entrance of the plaza.

“What took you so long?” she asked when you finally joined her.

“I hereby welcome you all to the Survey Corps!”

You heard Erwin Smith’s voice, now nothing more than a faint sound blending with the rustling leaves and getting carried away by the wind, as you and Hitch made your way back to the barracks.

-

“Did you hear almost all the top students joined the Survey Corps last night?” Hitch sounded particularly excited and jolly that morning. A huge smile plastered on her face.

“Did they?” You didn’t want to let yourself get too hopeful. But Hitch’s enthusiasm was contagious.

“Yep! And you know what that means right?” Your roommate gave you a cheeky grin “There might be a spot left for us at the MP after all!”

You were sure there most certainly was a spot for Hitch. But for you, that was a whole different story. You were no Mikasa. You were no Reiner. And given the fact that your physical capabilities were pretty average, even a little below that on bad days, you were certain you weren’t even in the top 20.

“Jeez. Woman, please look excited! We are set for life!”

She is set for life. “I’m not sure I’ll make the cut. It was the physical aptitude test-”

“Who cares? To hell with that test. What would you need stamina for inside Wall Sina anyway? I heard they don’t even use ODM in the MP. In our first year, maybe we’ll have to run after one of those random idiots who steal papayas from the street stalls, but I’m sure we can manage that much”

You laughed at the thought “You catch him. I’ll write the report”

“Deal!” she said “but once we climb up the ranks…” her eyes lit up with ambition as a result of whatever was going through her head. And you could tell she was plotting something questionable. But before you could start prying she added “Plus you did well everywhere else.”

She was right. While your physical performance wasn’t necessarily stellar, your academics were very good. As an overthinker, often worrying too much about too many, you overstudied for tests like no one in your class did, and your efforts often resulted in excellent marks.

“You’re right. Everyone save Shadis left something nice in my report card. Nothing personal, I’m sure”

Hitch nodded enthusiastically, clearly satisfied with herself because her words were having the effect she intended. And they really were, your head was starting to pitch more and more ideas to support the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you would be able to join the Military Police.

“You know what? You’re right, Hitch. We’ll join the MP and we’ll be on our way to the capital tomorrow.”

Wrong. Later that day, as you held the application paper in one hand, fountain pen in the other, you couldn’t help but snort when imagining how foolish you must have looked that morning, believing you would be back home as a member of the MP brigade. But there was no use in reminiscing now. You needed to focus and make the second best choice.

But focus for what? The only available options for you were the Garrison and the Survey Corps. And the choice was plain and obvious, wasn’t it? The Garrison wasn’t cool or anything but it was safe. Except, of course, for that incident from a couple of weeks ago, when that random titan showed up again, and tried to obliterate Trost District. Luckily for you, however, you had been assigned to assist with the relocation of the citizens once they entered Wall Rose, so you didn’t even have to see any titan at all. That had been a rare occurrence. And with the Survey Corps, the chances of survival were significantly lower. Zero for someone with your physical capabilities.

Are you willing to die if I ordered to?

Erwin Smith’s words from the night before showed up uninvited.

Those who make it through that hell will become superior soldiers, capable of surviving anything.

You could hear his solemn voice loud and clear, even one day later.

I like the look on your face.

Your hand now hovered dangerously over the ‘Survey Corps’ box, centuries worth of handed-down survival instincts forgotten in the blink of an eye.

I don’t want to die.

Your brain repeated as a last resort, right before the ink found the paper.

I don’t want to die.

Now it sounded like a complain more than a petition.

I hereby welcome you to the Survey Corps.

You heard him say, somewhere inside your head, as you turned in your application and walked away.

-

next chapter

[queengiuliettafirstlady]

The gentle stag Rewrites the stars  

The gentle stag Rewrites the stars  

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Pairing: Keith x MC

Part of : Ikemen Prince Gift Exchange hosted by @ikemen library and @sunnyikemen

Gift for @ridiculouslly-ridiculous, I really hope you may like it 🤗

Tag: Slow burn Mutual pining Party Stargazing Realization of feelings Confession of requited feelings First Kiss Fluff

Word Count : 3.962

Author’s Note: The so very friendly and not at all romantic relationship she has with Keith begin to get more intimate when he invites her over to a ball held to celebrate his birthday.

Pleasant occasion turn the ball into a stargazing date, where they realize the feeling they have for one another and couldn't hide any longer, for nothing resist to the almighty power of Love. 🥰

Side Note: All the images were found on Pinterest-Google and I was unable to find the source, please if any of you know the owner tell me and I will provide to give the artist the credit for the image.

Tag list

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @atelieredux @klutzyroses @randonauticrap @thewitchofbooks @princess-pray-a @judejazza @itsmyara

You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊

Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊

“It isn’t a date.”

What I hoped to be a confident assertion of my plan for the night did nothing but elicit giggles and knowing smirks from all the princes, sat around the round table.

Leon was the first to break the ice, or as well melt it with the warmth of his smile.

“Alright then, if you say so we believe you, it's true guys ?” 

I hoped they would have listened to him … but in vain, as I noticed seeing Jin smirk as he spoke breezily.

“Of course darling, an invite to a party, in his country, really sounds like a casual stroll to me.” 

I sighed as much as I hated that impression he was right, and yes I may have been getting my hopes up a little bit, but he was such a wonderful gentleman, and it was impossible not to love him. 

“Be careful out there.” Licht hidden kindness melted my heart, I met his eyes melting at the sight of a soft light smile curling his lips, I didn’t shy away from requiting with one of my own

“I will, thanks for the advice.”

“Remember to pay attention to your outfit,  and don’t dare look sloppy on your date.” Yves' warning makes me smile with gratitude, of course I should avoid it or else the nobles will mock me, easily ignoring the fact he called it a date,

“Thank you I will, don’t worry.”

“As if.” his haughty attitude didn't change a bit but the slightly more relaxed smile curling his lips told me another story.

Truth to be told, Keith's wicked side intrigued me like his soft one, the fact I was the only one in Rhodolite to know of his birthday and of his sides maybe made me special to him somehow, or at least I hoped so.

I turned at the sound of a scoff, coming from the head of the table opposite to Leon, in time to see a little smile play on Chevalier’s lips before he resumed his usual stern expression. 

If even he didn’t  believe me then it was useless to hope someone else would, if even he saw our meetings as dates I can only imagine what kind of rumors had spread around the courts about us.

“Dearie me. Who could have imagined you would have been conquered by him of all people?”  I glared at Clavis, ignoring his amber eyes gleaming mischievously, immediately backed up by Nokto,

“He certainly played his card right little lady, you got to admit it.” the foxy grin on his smile tickling on my nerves, pushing me t to give him a piece of my mind

“He isn't my lover.” I declare in a futile attempt at dissuading them from a truth everyone saw but me.

“Not yet.” 

“As much as I am fascinated by Keith.” I do my best to ignore the accomplices smiles Julie and Luke kept giving one another as they look up at me, mentally slapping my face for pronouncing his name, like we were intimate, we are a bit, but still, I sigh heavily, great now everyone knows what I feel for him, confirming things they already thought on their own anyway. 

“Prince Keith is only a friend. I know my place.”

Or at least, I should have known my adoration with him would have done nothing but hurt us both. Everyone knew it but him, blissfully unaware and careless of the supposed forbiddance of that feeling while our meetings became more and more similar to romantic trysts than mere strolls.

“As you desire sweetie.” a playful smile curled Julie’s lips glimmering in her bright green eyes, knowing her fondness for matchmaking I am sure she saw straight through my lies, but it was the best I could offer to fool myself with a non-existent distance between us.

“Thank you for listening to me.” I took advantage of the courtesy to calm down my heart beating furiously in my chest, with measured steps I walked toward the door, my hand was on its knob … when a crystal clear voice reached my ear.

“Enjoy your rendez-vous alors.” a Cheshire cat grin danced on her lips, receiving only a hearty chuckle as answer to my glare.

Once out of the door I let out a sigh I didn't know I was holding in until now, affection swelling in my heart at the thoughtfulness they had for me, even though someone showed that better than others, and with a spring in my step I direct myself toward my room, basking in the excitement filling my heart at the prospect of that night party.

The afternoon flew by in an instant, my effort to study was useless, since the only thing in my mind was him. Love was forbidden between a commoner and a noble or, at least, was a lot more difficult than how I read it to be in countless fairytales … but how can you rule the unruly, govern the ungovernable, put rules to emotions, and oblige the heart to follow them?

Brief answer: you can’t. 

I sigh heavily, pushing aside the book I was reading, yet another way to cram my head with etiquette and rules that I should have followed to disguise myself as a noble, hoping for it to be enough to earn my place by his side  …  if only Keith, too,  would have been so crazy as to favor love over politics regarding marriage matters. 

Wondering if our love was starcrossed or written above the stars, I looked to them beginning to twinkle in the early evening sky, still colored with the warm hues of the setting sun in search of answers to questions that kept me thinking all through the day, especially after a totally casual and not at all romantic meeting of ours.

The ever present mantra of not getting too close to him flew out from the window the instant he appeared in my mind, making a jolt of blush spread across my cheeks as I adjusted the tiara on my curls in front of the mirror, mindful to adjust every detail to perfection, running my hands over the soft jade velvet of the gown, a color I chose thinking of him alike the nature themed accessory completing my outfit.

The carriage ride to Jade took longer than expected but I didn’t pay any attention to it, too lost in the admiration of the flourishing countryside scenery out of the window. 

The drumming of my heartbeat only got louder as I caught a glimpse of the Royal palace, dazzling bright like a gleaming Jade stone surrounded by a thick forest amidst the blue velvet of the night sky, embroidered with stars, that so many times Keith and I looked at  together.

I ran my fingers nervously over the richly decorated envelope, an official invite to his birthday party, sighing dreamily I caressed his signature, a flamboyant calligraphy I would have recognized amidst thousands.

A celebration he always felt no need for, but everyone insisted on celebrating as he confessed albeit shily to me only a few days prior as we were having tea together … and not that too was not a date … perhaps ? 

Nervously I stir my fingers on the gown adjusting invisible crinkles, before rushing to take a mirror pocket from my pochette to check out on my makeup and straight the tiara on my curls, to distraction myself I pick up the coins he gifted me rolling it between my thumb and forefingers, letting out a sigh to dispel my anxiety, smiling fondly at the memory of how he taught me how to make it dance in my palm, even though I was not even good enough as him I liked keep playing, reminiscing all the times we spent together, swelling my heart with all the love I and for him and was doing my best to forget but in vain.

The palace got bigger at each roll of the wheels on the cobblestone mixing with the horses’ hooves as the rhythmic undulation of the carriage slowed as we approached the gates, trailing off in a path surrounded by a rainbow of flowers and foliage billowing in the wind greeting the guests. 

My heart beat so loudly almost drowning the music coming from inside, I place and hand over it overwhelmed by a rush of anxiety mixed with excitement as the carriage came to a halt in front of his entrance.

I slide off as gracefully as possible letting the excitement for the night that awaited for me lead the way, pushing away all my nervousness as I smile, concentrating myself to not fall from my high heels keeping a straight composure as I approach the throne placed on a mezzanine floor, with the windows on their back.

I catch my breath at his sight I didn’t know it was possible but he looked even more gorgeous than ever in his formal clothes shining like a Jade under the light of the moon, shaking my head I focus on my courtesy, after the attendant presented me as the daughter of a Rhodolite noble, a surge of pride swelled in my chest at the small satisfied smile playing on his lips.

I let out a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding in until now, meeting his amber gaze as I rose from my position, smiling at his thoughtfulness at the sight of him descending the stairs to come greet me.

“You looked really beautiful tonight, as ever.” His compliment makes a surge of pride swell in me, as I unconsciously bow to him, sliding my fingers over the front of my gown, letting the softness of the velvet under my fingers calm me down a little bit.

I lower my head bashfully to hide my blush behind the fan gazing at his heart melting expression, a tender smile curled on his lips, radiating acceptance and kindness glimmering in his golden eyes as he took my hand in his leaving a gentle kiss on my knuckles, enough to set my skin on fire, I tried to refresh fanning myself but in vain, for the warmth of his hands still lingered on mine even after he retracted it.

“Thank you so much for coming, it made me so happy to have you here today.”

My heart jumped in my chest at the honesty in his voice, so different from the shallow lies of the nobles I got used to during my time at the palace.

“It was my pleasure and honor to meet you, Prince Keith. May I wish you a pleasant and mirthful birthday.”

"It is now that you are here with me." the earnestness of his heartfelt confession bring a smile to my lips as he tucked a rebel curl behind my ear, ignoring the way my heart raced out of control at the warm contact of his fingers brushing on my cheeks, while an hint of sensuality flickered on his honeyed eyes for a brief second, enough to make me yearn for more.

There was a hint of shyness in his smile as he gazed back at me, while a soft rosy blush crept up on his cheeks making my heart swell with love I held for him, enhanced by the tenderness I saw reflected in his golden eyes as he leaned to me, his breath fanning on my cheeks distracting me from everything else, moment I savour to the fullest revelling in the little touch of his chest brushing against my breast, as my heart galloped wildly in a frenzy from his allure.

“I would like to show you something.” He bit his bottom lip, fidgeting with his own fingers before raising his wide doe-like eyes to look at me with such a heart melting gaze I couldn’t deny anything to 

“Do you want to come with me ?” his almost pleading tone pulled at my heartstring, I tenderly placed my gloved hand over his own.

“Of course, lead me.” The sun dawned once more on his features brightened by such a pure soft smile I stared in awe at, I would go with you anywhere if you asked me a secret wish I keep to myself.

I bask in his manly warm hands engulfing mine as he lead me to a secret passage directed to his personal astronomy tower that only he would grace his presence upon, since he kindly explained to me that the astronomer was too engrossed in a deep discussion with the librarian to ever notice or care about the falling stars scheduled for that night to happen.

“I see well it’s cute that is happening today. It's like a gift from the universe.”

I sense him smiling as he gently squeezing my hand in his,

“Moreover I hope you will like my present when you open it, I left it at the entrance with the others.” 

“Trust me, your presence here is the best gift I could ever receive from you.” 

his soft voice dripped with tenderness as he squeezed my hand, turning around to give me a heart melting smile, so bright to shine even through the darkness of the corridor.

Once arrived there I follow him out on the balcony, my breath catch in my throat, mesmerized by the view of the Kingdom stretching before my eyes, shrouded in darkness almost a continuation of the night sky, with the stars sliding down to play hide and seek from clouds to the towns’ houses, a sight so beautiful to entrance me completely, smiling at the pleasant contact of his masculine forms hovering over next to me while his pinky finger ever so shily crawl on the railing to overlap with mine. 

I looked up at him but he simply smiled, enraptured by his handsome features I smiled back at him, squeezing his hand as he engulfed mine in his once more.

“It is so … beautiful.” I manage to murmur as I stare in awe at the sight, sliding to look back at him, the light of the lanterns dancing on his alluring features

“I am so happy you like it.” 

“Look out there for the falling star, don’t forget to make a wish-” 

“-And it will be granted.” I continue smiling at him, revelling in our shared knowledge.

Curiosity and hope got the best of me and before I know it I had my eyes glued to the sky feeling his pinky finger ever so slowly crawl to entwine with mine as I look briefly at him, seeing a soft smile plastered on his lips as he feigned innocence staring at the stars, reflected in his golden eyes.

I bask in that intimate contact hoping from the bottom of my heart the darkness could conceal the red blush of my cheeks, the same shade of rose I saw dusting over his as I softly squeezed his fingers, he ever so softly entwined with mine.

A bit of time passed by and nothing was in sight, so much so that I was thinking that maybe the towns’ light overshine over the stars … when suddenly I saw it.

A comet rushing amidst them all, burning bright, like my love for him, piercing through the clouds near the moon.

Unable to stay still I beam brightly pointing out excitedly at the sky

“I saw one, there.” I smile at him, unable to look away from the galaxy reflected in his gaze as the lights of the lanterns and the moon danced in the golden pool of his eyes.

“You seem to be lucky tonight, I have yet to see any.”

“Don’t be upset. I am sure you will see one too soon.”

“Have you expressed your wish?”

“Yes.” I confess bashfully 

“But I don’t know if it became true.” I trail off, looking down at the towns’ below, wondering if maybe I could belong there too, a wishful dream I brush off shaking my head from the bittersweet thought of what could have been … if only I would have been a noble but I wasn’t and so I was forced to see my love off with another, I clutch my fingers on my heat to calm the painfully tug at the thought.

“Why not ?” His tone dripping with concern as he leaned next to me, brushing his thumb on the back of my hand, managing to calm be it for a while my racing heart, making my focus shift back to him

“It … too strange that is.” I looked briefly up at him, in time to see surprise in his widened eyes, while a sympathetic smile played on his lips.  

“I am sure it will.” 

His support warmed my heart as I squeeze his hand before going back to gaze at the sky, doing my best but failing at forgetting the love I felt for him, or else this would have led us to our downfall and the mere idea of hurting him was unbearable to me, desiring from the bottom of my heart for him to be happy.

A bit of time went by and I kept my eyes open for any sign of a falling star, ready to indicate that to him and gave him the chance to make a wish too, all that to earn that bright, tender smile of his that never failed to make my heart swell with love and affection for him.

I had just thought that when his gentle voice shook me from my reveries

“I saw one too.” 

“You made your wish Keith ?” I leaned over with curiosity, I know well it was forbidden to tell it but a part of me wondered what he used it for … but with great astonishment he shook his head, his tone unusually serious as he looked straight at me.

“Wishing upon a star? What for when I have everything I could have wished for and more right there, in my arms.” 

His masculine brawny body engulfing me in his hug, I looked up at him seeing affection glimmering in his amber gaze, glimmering like molten gold at the warm suffused light coming from the lanterns of the balcony.

It was too good to be true, he was a prince and I was … well I a commoner faking to be a noble even though he knew of it this didn’t changed the difference in our status

“Keith please.” I beg, half hoping he wasn’t joking for my heart would have not take too well the delusion of my feelings being teased so openly 

“It is not a lie” his words filled my heart with hope, as it began to race out of control in my chest so much I was sure he could hear it too. 

“But your duty …”

“Is to follow my heart and that is what I am doing.This always has been the best thing to do for us in Jade and I am no exception.” This statement took me off guard, I always assumed Royalty everywhere married off just for duty and alliance but he proved me wrong and no one knows how much I was immensely grateful for it.

“But who can love someone like me.” My insecurities speaking up before I had a chance to shut them up, I bit my lip trailing my gaze on my fingers curled on his chest,

“I will.” his sturdy fingers cupped my face, raising me to meet his gaze, unwavering, loyal and honest like I came to know both his sides to be.

“I am not tricking you, please trust me.” a plea dripping over his tone pushing me to let down my guard, as I always did around him looking back into his gaze

“I love you.” the brightness of a thousand suns glimmering in his honey eyes, pouring over his tender smile.

“Oh Keith I love you too.” 

The sensation of his lips on mine was nothing like I expected it, it was far better, it really felt like we were melting into one another, it was shy and a bit clumsy I felt his hands curl on my hips to help me remain on my feet as I  get swept off by the soft movements of his lips savouring mine, while I grip my fingers on his shirt, afraid he may slip off if I loosened my clutch … but there was no need to, as he proved wrapping his arms around me holding me close to his chest.

Reluctantly he pulled away leaning his forehead to mine, brushing his thumb on my cheeks, before trailing it over my sensitive bottom lip, a dreamy sigh escaped my lips immediately robbed by his lips landing once more on mine,it was a brief kiss but enough to let me desiring for more, enhanced by his warm breath fanning over my swollen lips.

“Please grant me the honor of being my fiancé.”

The honest affection filling his golden eyes mesmerize me, driving me in further into that golden pool I wished to swim in with him … and now finally could after week spent wishing and dreaming to become his lover,

“Oh Keith. Yes.” the diamond on the ring glimmered in the sheer light of the moon witness of that peculiar engagement as he ever so gently slide it on my ring finger, unknowingly setting my heart ablaze with indescribable happiness and swollen with love, racing in my chest with all the affection I held for him, I hoped to convey tip toeing to leave a tender kiss on his soft cheeks, revelling in his rosy blush.

Surely he would have had a lot of things to explain to the court sooner or later, like I should have to after all …  but for now all that mattered was us, alone on his balcony sharing a promise with only the stars as guardians of our love.

I welcomed the softness of his lips melting once more on mine in a sweet, tender kiss, robbing me of any coherent thought as he embraced me ever so strongly swallowing the ever soft whimpers escaping from my lips as he deepened the kiss, while my fingers dived in his soft grey curls and his own tightened around my hips as he hold me close to him.

Reluctantly he pulled away brushing a gentle kiss on my forehead as he took my hands in  his, placing a gentle kiss on their knuckles looking straight at me 

“I love you my little bunny always and forever.” his heartfelt confession moved me to the core, I did my best to reciprocate.

“I love you too, my stag, all of you, so very much.” 

He placed his head on mine, pulling me in a slow improvised waltz on the balcony floor, I eagerly followed, leaning my head on his chest, hearing our hearts beating in sync like one, like the soulmates we were destined to be.

The princes of Rhodolite were right since the beginning this was a date, and no one knew how much happy it made me to have been able to finally confess that feeling I held secretly hidden in my heart until that moment 

Love was a gift, I always believe in that, but no one of all my books prepared me for this, to love and to be loved was pure bliss, it filled your heart with affection and happiness, a passion smoldering as the sun and ten fold as bright, inexplicable to describe and I was grateful to all the universe for making that possible, bringing us together as written above the stars since the beginning of the universe and for all eternity.

[aquilapolariz]

KEITTTTHHHH ughh this was such a lovely story- i feel that the mutual pining and realization of feelings works ESPECIALLY good with his character!!!

[happybird16]

I'm going to make myself cry typing this but here we go..

I think one of the points of Attack on Titan is that humanity is forgetful. Doomed to forget, actually.

Our main cast are heroes, not just the surviving ones. Levi deserves to have statues built of him. The surviving members of the 104th even went on to become politicians, traveling the world to help change things for the better. I have no doubt that they had buildings named after them, streets and parks named after them. There were probably history books specifically dedicated to each and every one of them.

But humans are forgetful.

There were no photos of Eren. He probably only continued to exist in history books, where he was demonized and vilified for decimating the world. By the time their fingers started to get all wrinkly from age, Mikasa and Armin probably forgot what Eren looked like. What he sounded like.

Time passes and humans forget. Statues crumble, buildings rot and fall apart. People forget figures that used to be significant. History books are changed. Even atrocities eventually become dulled in humanities collective memory. Bombs turn everything to dust. Humans are doomed to forget and repeat their mistakes again and again and again.. and I think that's the point.

[bluejay-writes]

This is fine. (Chevalier / MC)

You can read/collect this fic on Ao3 if that’s more your speed!

Rating: T Pairing: Chevalier/MC Wordcount: 2646 Summary: Some hurt/comfort with Chevalier. MC is kidnapped and left in a cellar to rot. Chevalier, Nokto, and Clavis make an attempt to save her. Injuries occur. Hearts are bared. Pillows are thrown.

Author's Notes: This fic is a gift for @randonauticrap, Madame L, and was written for the Ikepri gift exchange hosted by @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen.

I won’t let it end like this.

MC worked to free her hands, which were bound behind her back with rope.  To her kidnappers’ credit, the knots seemed to be well done, and the rope was secure but not so tight as to cut off circulation to her hands.  She had, of course, still fought against her attackers enough to rub her wrists raw against the coarse fibers.

Her best, strongest, hope was that one of the princes would get word of her abduction and come rescue her before this situation got out of hand.  Of course, they couldn’t afford to acknowledge that she was Belle, and so it was entirely possible that she would have to get out of this situation on her own.  That thought made her suddenly wish she’d taken Nokto’s suggestion of pretending that she was in a relationship with one of them as a cover for her presence in the palace.

Being Belle had given her all kinds of experience in situations she never thought she’d be in.  Spending her time trying to understand Chevalier had left her at the whim of Clavis’ traps enough times that she knew her way around most knots and binding techniques.  She’d endured enough of Nokto’s endless flirting that she knew she wasn’t cut out to be a disposable consort. Even still, a lover could be rescued by her prince, of course. Not so a noblewoman who simply had permission to study in the palace.

As she let her mind wander over her time as Belle, her fingers worked nimbly at the rope behind her back.  The odd sound she was hearing was getting louder, and she realized that something was happening to the house whose cellar she was trapped in.  Were those footsteps?  It sounded almost like the patter of heavy rain, with the occasional peal of thunder.  But it wasn’t raining today, and the sound was louder near the interior stairs rather than the cellar doors.

Just like that.

MC grinned in triumph as the rope came undone, and she rolled her shoulders to ease some of the stiffness.  The offending length of rope went in one of her skirt pockets.  Not the sort of thing a normal noble lady would have in her skirts, but MC was far too used to her life as a commoner to be without copious pockets.

Next stop, escape. MC made her way over to the cellar doors, hoping to avoid going through the house to get away from her captors.  Of course, the cellar doors appeared thoroughly secured with chain and a padlock on the inside, let alone whatever might await her on the other side of those doors.  Nearing them, however, she heard a voice she wasn’t expecting.

“She’s here.” It was Chevalier’s voice. Quiet through the heavy cellar doors, but the ice in his tone was unmistakable.

“Are you sure, King Highness?” That was Nokto.

“Chev wouldn’t say it if he wasn’t certain.” …and Clavis.

“I’m in here!” MC tried to call, but her voice came out hoarse from disuse. She cleared her throat and tried again, banging against the door. “Chevalier! I’m in here!”

“Well, well.” Nokto’s voice carried through the door. “Padlocked and reinforced.”

“Your fancy swordwork can’t fix this, but I should be able to get the lock open in a minute.”

“It’s chained and locked on this side too.” MC yelled, her voice cracking.

A moment of dead silence followed her revelation, and then she heard Chevalier’s no-nonsense tone.

“I’m going through to the interior stairs. Get this unlocked, just in case.”

“King Highness, the manor is collapsing, you can’t mean to— Ugh, he’s gone.” Nokto’s bitter words pushed MC into gear, as she turned and rushed towards the other side of the cellar.

The heat from the stairs was immense, and in that moment MC realized she hadn’t been hearing rain, but fire.  Someone had set the manor ablaze and left her locked in the cellar to die. They’d locked her in here so thoroughly that they were probably counting on the princes failing to save her, regardless of how hard they tried.  The fallout from that happening would be bad enough, but now, against all odds, Chevalier was working his way through a burning manor to reach her. He was smart enough not to try something that he wasn’t entirely confident would succeed, but even what little she knew about fires told her that the situation could change in an instant.  Sure, she was Belle, but she was a replaceable commoner.  There was no way her life even came close to balancing the risk to Chevalier’s own.

She climbed the stairs carefully, realizing just how hot the air had gotten. She reached for the handle, but was greeted with three unpleasant truths.  First, that the fire on the other side of the door had heated the handle to an unpleasant degree.  Second, that her abductors had, in fact, locked said door.  Finally, Third, that she was as much a simpleton as Chevalier always insisted she was, having to learn those first two truths the hard way. There was no doubt in her mind that terror waited on the other side of that door. Even so, she absolutely had to get through it. The hinges were on her side of the door, which meant it opened into the fire, so Chevalier wouldn’t be able to break it down from his side. Her only way out, unless he miraculously found a key somewhere, was to break this door.

Gritting her teeth, MC slammed her shoulder into the door. Nothing. It was hot, but not as hot as the metal door handle. She couldn’t tell if it gave a little bit, or if that was just wishful thinking.  She tried again, and this time something snapped.  The heat was overwhelming, and she wasn’t even in the worst of it yet. She knew to be worried about breathing in the smoke, but it was the kind of knowledge that came from reading, not from experience.  So, when the door gave on her third attempt, the first thing she did was take a deep breath… of the acrid smoke that started pouring down the stairs.

Wracked with coughs it was all MC could do to look around for Chevalier as she watched the fire lick up the walls.  It was simultaneously dark and bright with the red and yellow of flames flickering over the burned husks of furniture.  Ah. The butler’s pantry. Of course. What else would connect to the cellar?

MC hunkered down, trying to keep her head out of the smoke as her eyes burned and tears rolled down her face.

“Chev—” she coughed, and tried to get a breath that wasn’t smoke as a figure stepped through the doorway across the room. 

The second prince looked like a bandit, with a cloth over the lower half of his face, tear tracks running into it through the soot that had collected over his fair skin and in his hair. Before she could say another word, a loud crack rang through the room, and something above Chevalier gave way to the all-consuming fire.

“Chevalier!” MC called, her hands reaching out uselessly toward the prince, who lifted his arm to ward off the falling beam, even while sending a concerned glance in her direction. A sickening crack and the momentary flash of pain across Chevalier’s face was all she saw before the beam hit the ground in a flash of sparks and fire.  

Heedless of the fire, or as heedless as one really can be while everything is burning down around them, MC scrambled across the room to where Chevalier was crouched on the ground, his arm clutched to his chest.

“Chev.” she whispered, concerned as he stood again.

“Simpleton.” His voice was low and rough. “Get downstairs. Now.”

MC knew better than to argue with Chevalier on a good day, and by the tone of his voice, going against his command here was a death wish. Still…

“Not without you.”

Chevalier growled, and MC was reminded that once again she was dealing with the Brutal Beast. He reached out with his good arm and grabbed her wrist, his calloused hand against the raw skin making her hiss, but she didn’t dare pull out of his grasp.  He seemed to realize there was a problem, loosening his hold and taking her hand instead. Her heart fluttered.

Now is not the time for this, MC. she admonished herself, before Chevalier admonished her aloud. 

”Get out of this alive, then swoon.”

They made for the stairs, but Chevalier stopped short.

The stairs… were on fire. 

MC looked at the stairway, and then at Chevalier’s face, which had of course not changed from his usual stoic mask, excepting a small crease between his brows.

“These stairs won’t hold.” He said, and then pulled her to him. “Hold on tight.”

To what?!

Sparing not even a moment for a second thought, Chevalier picked her up by the hips and tossed her over his shoulder before descending the stairs in a rush.  True to his appraisal, the staircase collapsed behind them. Now the only way out truly was the padlocked cellar doors.

MC looked at his face as he set her down once they were clear of the collapsing staircase, and caught the tail end of a wince and a clenched jaw before he smoothed his expression once more.

“Show me the cellar doors.” He said, with no preamble.

MC nodded, and led him to the chained-and-padlocked door she’d just been at. She didn’t know how they were going to get that lock unlocked. Chev had blocked that beam with his dominant arm and she wasn’t as good at locks as she was at knots. Maybe something to ask Clavis about after this, assuming they made it out.  For now, getting out was the priority.  And they needed to do it soon.  MC felt like her lungs were on fire like the rest of the manor.

Of course, she needn’t have worried. Chevalier unsheathed his sword and made quick work of the lock, ripping it off of the chains and pulling the chains free from the door, before once again claiming her hand with his good hand. Well then. His arm must not actually be as hurt as she thought it was.  He had used both arms to lift her over his shoulder, after all. The beam was probably just hot.

“Let’s go, Simpleton.”

MC rolled her eyes at his use of that favored nickname, and allowed him to haul her along with him as the cellar doors opened, showing the concerned faces of none other than Nokto and Clavis.

Having reached the relatively cool outdoor air, MC felt like she was gulping down breaths rather than simply breathing them.

“Let’s get clear of this.” Nokto said, as behind them another room of the house collapsed inwards.

“MC. Deep breaths.” Clavis’ voice rang in her ears, and she turned to look at him, but the world kept spinning even though she’d stopped moving, and she felt herself falling.

“MC.” Chevalier’s arms held her, and distantly she worried about him holding her with that injured arm. As everything went dark, she would have sworn she saw him roll his eyes as she heard him mutter. “You weren’t supposed to take me seriously about swooning. Idiot.”  

Oddly, scent was the first thing to come back to her. Clean cotton, medicine, and paper.

Then, sound. A quiet conversation, the shuffle of feet across a rug, and the sound of a door closing.

MC blinked, opening her eyes.  She was laying on a familiar bed, though it wasn’t her own.  A quick glance about told her everything she needed to know.  She was in Chevalier’s room, and the prince himself was laying next to her on the bed.  Otherwise, the room was entirely vacant. Whoever had been having that conversation must have left. MC took a moment to check on Chevalier, and what she saw made her stifle a gasp. First, he was shirtless, but that was secondary to the fact that his right side was covered in bandages from shoulder to hip, with the arm itself in a splint. So he had broken the arm.

For her part, she’d been changed out of the ruined dress she’d been wearing, into a clean nightgown, her wrists carefully bandaged, as well as a number of other small wounds she hadn’t even noticed in their escape from the burning manor house. Someone had even washed her hair. How long had she been out?  Certainly it couldn’t have been that long…

MC turned to slip out of the bed and find a robe so that she could go report in to Sariel and find out what he knew about what had happened, and see if there was someone who would tell her how hurt Chevalier actually was, since he certainly would never give her a straight answer about it.  She didn’t get very far, as Chevalier grasped her hips and tugged her over into his arms. 

“Where are you going?” He muttered sleepily. “Stay with me.”

MC’s heart thundered in her chest.  Of course he just wanted to sleep more. He’d done this to her before when she was sent to wake him, and she knew better than to read into his desire for touch when sleepy.

“I need to go report what happened to Sariel.” She said. Honesty was always the best policy with Chevalier, he could taste a lie before you even uttered it.  And if she didn’t get out from his hold, he was going to feel her heart racing, and then he’d be asking her to explain that, and… she knew how useless he found the concept of Love. They’d discussed it. At length.

“The Devil can wait.” He muttered, his breath ruffling her hair. “I, on the other hand, cannot.”

“Chevalier.” MC huffed. “You’re literally the epitome of waiting right now, you’re trying to sleep.”

“No. I am trying to keep you from leaving. Sleep is a convenient side effect.”

“You’ll give me ideas if you keep this up, you know.”

“You already have plenty of them, if your heartbeat is to be considered.”

I knew it! MC sighed. He’s too perceptive.

“Well, the man I love his holding me captive in his bed, what am I supposed to think?”

“Perhaps you might think that you’ve won our little bet.”

She froze. He couldn’t mean it, could he? In the back of her mind, MC could hear Sariel reminding her about Clause 99, but right now she did not care, not even a little bit.

“You mean, you…”

“I love you.” He said it plainly, but the words settled in her chest like a warm sweater on a cold day. “The thought that I could have lost you in that fire nearly broke me. And there you were braving the worst of it to aid me rather than saving yourself.” He tapped on her shoulder, and she turned to face him.  There were tears in his eyes as he looked her in the eye.

“I love you, MC. You win.”

“I love you, Chevalier.” she said, her eyes misty. 

Everything was different now. New, and shining.

She blinked to clear the tears that were threatening to fall, and thus was surprised when Chevalier’s lips met hers, but it didn’t stop her from kissing him back.

Their moment, of course, was broken by vibrant applause.

“Oh, well played, Chev.” Clavis’ voice was full of mirth and mocking. “Save the damsel in distress and then profess your undying love.  How many times does that happen in those books in your little library?  Was that all research, then?”

Chevalier grumbled and threw a pillow at Clavis.  

Well. Not everything had changed, after all.

[aquilapolariz]

gosh im not even a chev stan but your writing made me feel like i waS??? wonderful description and characterization, this was brilliant!!!

[alydra]

Does it make you feel worse or better to know that I'm not a chev stan either?

[aquilapolariz]

BETTER!!!! massive respect to writers that can write for characters that aren’t their favs….ITS SO DIFFICULT FOR ME I DONT EVEN TRY😭