#Dreadful As The Hug Situation Is I'm Just Happy To Exist Around Them

[the-finest-clockwork-soldier]

How frequently do you give hugs?

Infrequently! As I Do Live Among Touch Averse Gunslingers. Unless I Am Otherwise Employed In A Manner Where My Hugs Are Most Coveted, These Wooden Arms Can Go Years Without Holding A Single Soul!

If I Am Hugging A Fellow Crew Member, It Is Likely Because I've Been Ordered To Restrain Them. Which Is Still Jolly Good Fun, On My End At The Very Least.

[devinescribe]

[A Little More] Niragi S.

The plot is basically knowing before the games, and you were his main bully's sister. And then it transfers to being in the games. I listened to the song 'A Little More' by Alessia Cara while making this, and it's on my Wattpad as well :)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of abuse, bullying, mentions of rape(none done by Niragi towards the reader. Also, more like insinuates it, not describes or for sure says it, but just in case!)

You had seen the boy around. He carried his books hurriedly around, and your brother always told you he was his friend. And you believed him.

"Onii-Chan! Hiii!" You chirped, running up to your brother. You saw his friends behind him, the boy with the glasses trailing behind. "I'll be inside in a second," you said, running past the group of boys to the boy behind them. "Hi! My name's (L/N) (F/N). What's your's?" You introduced, holding out a hand to him to shake. "S-suguru Niragi... Nice to meet you," he responded, looking up to meet your gaze. "That's my big brother, he's super cool. I wanna be like him one day. Even though he's only a years older," you giggled, pointing towards the boy standing in the doorway, glaring down at him. "B-big brother? I-i have to go..." he excused. "Ah, wait, Suguru-San, let's talk more at school yeah?" You shouted after him. He stopped, turning to look at you, giving a curt nod.

"Hey! What- what are you doing?" You asked, stumbling across your brother with his friend. Niragi was on the floor, blood spilling from nose, a baseball next to him. His glasses scattered to the side. "Leave (Y/N), it's nothing to concern yourself with. Go home," your brother said. He was holding a baseball bat. "I thought he was your friend?" You asked, walking closer to them. "I told you to leave," your brother responded louder. "Did you do this to him?" You asked, tears building in your eyes. "And if I did? He's just a loser anyways," you brother said. You gasped, walking closer to your brother. "Stop. You shouldn't do this," you said, trying to look at the boy standing in front of you like he was still your brother and not some monster who had been torturing someone innocent. "I told you to leave you dumb bitch," he scoffed, pushing you down. "D-dont!" Niragi shouted from behind you. Your eyes widened. "Don't hurt her... she's your sister, you shouldn't hurt your sister," Niragi said, trying his hardest to be brave to protect you. "And?" Your brother said, kicking your leg harshly. You gave a yelp of pain, and crawled backwards to Niragi. " 'Ragi, you ok?" You asked, wiping away the blood, to no avail as it kept coming out. "Get away from him (Y/N), unless you want the same treatment," one of your brother's friends smirked. Your eyes widened, holding onto him. "Hurt me then. I don't care. Leave him alone!" You shouted, shielding Niragi from them. "Aw look, he needs a girl to protect him," one of the boys taunted. You stood up, holding Niragi's hand. Your brother scoffed, tossing a ball up, and batting it. You only heard a crack, and felt a pain on your nose. You put a hand up, and felt blood drip down. " 'Ragi, on the count of three, run. Run home or wherever, don't look back, just run, and I'll see you at school tomorrow alright?" You instructed, looking at him with a smile. "But what about you? You're a girl and they could do worse to you than me I can't let you-" he said, stumbling over his words. "Go. I'll be fine, I'll see you tomorrow," you said, the kind smile he'd grown to love still present on his face. He only nodded.

"1"

He closed his eyes, dreading the thought of leaving you alone.

"2"

You looked up at him, and gave him a quick kiss to the cheek.

"3."

He swallowed harshly, and ran like you told him. He did what you told him, trying to block out the noise, because he knew he would look back if he did...

The next day you showed up at school. Your eyes no longer held the same spark they had. Your smile had dulled. Not even like you were giving a real smile. There were bruises on your legs that you had neglected to cover.

You went to your usual spot under the Sakura tree in the school court yard. " 'Ragi?" You questioned, seeing him standing there, under the tree. He saw you, and let out a sigh of relief. "Are you ok? What happened? What did they to you?" He asked, reaching out for you. You jumped back, scared of what might happen if you let him touch you. He looked at you, seeing the bruises on your neck and legs. "What the hell did they do to you?" He whispered, slowly walking over to you. Your eyes filled with tears. "I-it was h-horrible, I- I didn't think that i-," you started, breaking down in sobs. He reached you, slowly wrapping his arms around you.

You two sat atop the roof of the apartment complex, looking out to the stars. "So let me get this straight, if a guy with piercings and long hair asked you out, you wouldn't hesitate to say yes?" He asked, laughing a bit. You laughed, nodding your head. "But also smart guys. Clever ones, who put thought into things. The guys who aren't afraid of their emotions or mine ya know?" You admitted, looking up to the stars. He nodded softly. " 'Ragi. You'd look good with piercings," you mentioned all of a sudden. "Really?" He asked, looking at you. "Mhm. And if you grew out your hair to... here," you said, touching his shoulders. "Is this your way of telling me I'm ugly?" He joked. "No! You're really cute, I'm just saying it would look good on you. Dummy," you muttered. "What would you do if everyone in Tokyo disappeared? It was just the two of us?" He asked suddenly. "I'd be... happy. Our utopia where my brother and his stupid friends don't exist. Just us, watching the stars every night. I'd like that," you said softly. "I'd like that too," he whispered.

You chuckled at the memory. "Well, I would have liked it. If you were here with me," you said, leaning back on the wall. You looked down at the cards in your hand. 10 of clubs, ace of diamonds, and 2 of hearts. You shuddered. "Maybe it's better you're not here 'Ragi. I wouldn't want you going through this," you muttered. You heard the engine of a car. "What the hell? I thought cars didn't work," you whispered, walking out from your hiding spot, onto the street. The headlights of the cars fell on you, and they stopped. "Oi, you ok?" A voice asked. "Um, not really? How'd you get cars working?" You responded. No one answered. "We have a place where people in this situation can go. The Beach. Do you have any playing cards?" The person asked. "Yes, I do. 10 of clubs, ace of diamonds, and 2 of hearts," you responded. "Hop on in," they said. You walked over cautiously, getting into the car.

"Welcome to the beach. Right now, there's only a few of us, but in time there will be many. We have 3 militals, and 4 executives so far, with me being the leader," the man, who's name you learned to be Hatter. "Hatter, your back from- and who's this?" A voice said from the top of the staircase. You looked over, and saw a boy, about your age, with dark shoulder length hair. You couldn't see his facial features since he was so far away. He walked down the stairs, and you could see his face. He had an eyebrow piercing, as well as a nose piercing, with very attractive features. He looked so familiar. "That's Niragi, he's one of the militals, which is why he has a weapon," Hatter explained. Niragi clicked his tongue. "N-niragi?" You stuttered, walking a bit closer to the boy. "Oi, why the hell are you starin' at me like that? You look like you've seen a ghost," he scoffed. "Hi! My name's (L/N) (F/N). What's your's?" You said, using the same childish voice you had back then, sticking a hand out like you had back then, hoping this was your Niragi. The Niragi you had spent hours with atop the roofs of Tokyo. The Niragi who called you an idiot for getting drunk once. The Niragi who had most of your firsts, even if they were on a dare or some stupid punishment of your brother's creation. The same Niragi who had protected you after that day. The same Niragi who bought you candies and snacks after school. The Niragi you had and still loved. His eyes widened, and the gun he had dropped to the floor. "S-suguru Niragi... Nice to meet you," he said, the same way he had back then. The tears that had filled your eyes fell, and you grabbed his hand, pulling him into a hug. "It's you, it's really you right? I'm not dreaming? Did I die, is this heaven, please tell me that's really you," you cried into him. "It's me, it's really me (N/N)," he whispered, trying to keep his tears from falling. Hatter smiled, and left, giving the two of you a bit of privacy. He pulled away from the hug, cupping your face in his hands, placing his forehead on yours. "I'm so happy you're ok," you whispered. He stayed quiet, reeling in everything. You were there. With him. You were safe as could be within this messed up world. You were the same (Y/N) who had taken more damage for him than anyone in his life. The (Y/N) who had stayed up on late night phone calls. The (Y/N) who fixed his glasses everytime they broke. The (Y/N) who watched the stars with him. You pulled away, sniffling. "You look different," you laughed, sniffling and drying your tears. "Good different or bad different?" He asked with a smirk. "Good different. Great different. I told you you'd look good," you said. "Oh that reminds me of something I've wanted to do forever. (Y/N), will you go out with me?" He asked. "Yes," you responded with a smile. "Oh wow, you really meant no hesitation, huh?" He teased. "I've loved you since we were kids, why the fuck would I say no?" You admitted, holding his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

"You know, this isn't the way I thought I'd die, but I'm glad it's with you," you said, panting from the heat of the flames. "It's all my fault. You shouldn't be in this mess. Fucking hell..." he muttered. You lay your head on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself. I had just as much fault as you," you whispered. "Chishiya was right. All of us militals are just morons with guns," he laughed. You smiled. "I'm sure he'd love to hear you admit that. I can see him smirking right now," you said, a laugh escaping your lips. "Remember that time your brother found us on the roof, and we had to jump from one roof to the other to get away?" He asked leaning his head onto yours. "Yeah, remember that time we threw one of his baseball's into the river, and he was super pissed?" You giggled. "Remember that night on the roof when you told me your biggest fear was loosing me?" He asked. "That was legitimately the other night, if course I didn't forget it bubs," you whispered, snuggling into him. You both coughed from the smoke. "I don't want to die..." you whimpered, hugging him tightly. He held onto you. "I know... I know. But we'll just feel pain for a second, and then we'll meet in hell princess," he joked, trying to comfort you. You laughed a bit, but it turned into you coughing. "I love you Niragi," you said. "I love you too, (Y/N)."

Sorry if he's OOC my dear readers-

[pink-writer-girl]

Search For The Fae- chapter 1

The fog was thick and the night was crisp in the town of Yggdrasil Barrow, though the fog carried even more tension that particular night. A young woman with short, wavy strawberry locks took a deep drag of her cigarette. She exhaled slowly, the cloud of smoke disappearing in the fog. Her cigarette burned low but provided a small light in the fog. Though her eyes were partially hidden by her hair, her expression was grim. She watched as men dressed in police uniforms moved in and out of what appeared to be a normal suburban house. Bright yellow police tape blocked off any nosey but concerned civilians from stepping over the property line.

"Another one missing," one police officer muttered with a pitiful shake of his head.

"This happens every few years. You’d think we’d have some leads by now," said another, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.

But they didn't. And after almost 100 years since the town’s founding no one had the slightest clue about what happened to all those missing children. The strawberry-haired woman put her free hand in her pocket to shield it from the cold as she took another long, deep drag of her cigarette. She put the butt in her empty smoke box and slid the box into her coat pocket as she solemnly made her way to greet the police officer stationed at the door as she made her way in.

Though she was inside the house the temperature didn't differ much from the outside. The cold within the house was something felt more in the soul rather than on the skin. It was something she was familiar with: the feeling of an invader’s presence, or a person’s lost warmth. The woman's solemn eyes scanned the walls of the plethora of pictures of the household’s family as she walked down the hall. A mother, a father, a sister, and brother. She kept her eyes on the brother, though. While the family appeared to grow more loving and happy as the years passed between these photos, the brother seemed to grow more physically distant from the others.

His happy smile started to get smaller and smaller and seemed to diminish to almost nothing as the years went by. As she peered closely at the brother, the young woman swore her eyes were playing tricks on her when she thought she saw a glimmer of an unnatural color in the boy’s eyes. “What—”

"Detective Nole!" A voice called out to the woman, making her blink and just shake her head. When she opened her eyes again, the brother’s eyes had returned to normal. Just a trick of the light, she thought. As she hurried into what appeared to be a white-walled living room, an older salt-and-pepper-haired man wearing a white button-down shirt turned to look at her. The wrinkles under this man’s eyes showed years of experience with cases like this, and they didn’t look like the cases were getting any easier. 

"Chief Rowan," the woman said, looking toward the married couple standing nearby. The man looked to the two detectives while rubbing the back of his wife, who had not spoken or even looked up since they had been there.

"Mr. and Mrs. Brice, this is Detective Resistance Nole," Rowan said as Resistance made her way to stand next to the chair. Mr. Brice raised a brow at hearing her name, which didn't surprise her. She had been getting looks like this most of her life. Mrs. Brice, who previously hadn't shown any hints of interaction, finally looked up and gave a puzzled expression at the name she heard. 

"Your name is Resistance?" Mr. Brice asked, wondering if they were pulling his leg. 

Resistance let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes before presenting her badge to the couple. "Do you believe me now?" Both of them looked puzzled,  but when they saw the name inscribed on the badge, they nodded.

"Mr. and Mrs. Brice, I know you've probably been asked this question more than once already, but as you know the first 4 hours after a minor goes missing is the most critical. So I want you to tell me everything that happened today before your son Jeremy went missing and what led up to it,” The green-eyed woman asked as she sat in a chair opposite the Chief. 

Mr. Brice removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Just like I told your Chief and the other officers: I came home and my wife was making dinner. Our son Jeremy was locked up in his room as usual." A bit of annoyance crept into his voice at that part; some obvious tension existed between father and son. “By 7, his mother called him down for dinner, but when he didn't respond we thought he was having one of his fits.” By now Mr. Brice was looking quite distressed. “I knocked on his door to the point of breaking it down..." He paused to wipe his face. "He was gone… No trace of him… He was just gone…"

Mrs. Brice started to tear up slightly. "He… He had been so distant lately, but we never thought he would run away…" she said softly.

Resistance looked at the other woman as she took notes. "When you say distant, what do you mean by it? Your son is 13, right? Was hanging out with the wrong type of kids, or maybe there’s something going on at home you haven’t told me about?" The detective looked into Mrs. Brice's eyes. There was something wrong with them. She looked quite out of it, but she didn't appear to be on any discernible substances. It was like there was a cloud of sorts blocking her thoughts, with the way her eyes were dazed and how she stared blankly in different directions. 

Mrs. Brice shook her head "No, no, nothing like that... Jeremy has always been a good boy. Yes, he could be a bit shy at times, but he was so talented." She smiled brokenly. "He had the voice of an angel. He was in the school choir you know. So beautiful…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes became distant again. 

"Nothing I never heard before, yet so familiar somehow." Resistance frowned slightly and looked towards her chief, who shared her look of confusion.

Mr. Brice wrapped an arm around his wife. "I'm sorry,” he said to Resistance. “She hasn't really taken Jeremy's..." He paused, evidently trying to search for the right word. "...situation very well." 

The detective just looked at him, her eyes full of sympathy. "No parent can rest when their child is missing.” She paused. “I would know," she told them.

" You… You… have children?" Mrs Brice asked in a quiet voice, not really looking at Resistance, though.

Resistance turned to her. "I do. A daughter around 6," she told her gently. 

"A little girl…" A ghost of a smile flickered on Mrs. Brice’s face. "Just like Holly, dear…" She looked at her husband, her expression almost dreamlike. Mr. Brice just looked at her with a somber expression.

"Mrs.Brice, could you possibly tell your version of events before you husband got home?" Resistance asked the dark-haired woman, believing there was more to this story then it seemed.

Mrs. Brice blinked a little, looking at her. "It was a normal day… I got Holly and Jeremy ready for school... Though it took longer to get Jeremy about the house." 

The Chief spoke up. "Why? Did he sleep in?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

Mrs. Brice shook her head again. "No… He was just so distant. He barely responded to me. He just stared out the window humming a song... A beautiful song… I’ve never heard it before." She smiled dreamily again. "I ran errands, then brought the children home from school... Jeremy barely spoke at all. He only hugged me and told me he loved me before going back into his room."

This piqued Resistance’s interest. “Did he do this often? The staring off into space while singing?" she asked both his parents.

"Jeremy was in choir, so it was common for him to practice," said Mr. Brice. 

“But this was different altogether…" his wife finished for him. 

Resistance leaned back in her seat, processing all of this. "Mrs. Brice, what time was it when you last saw your son?" 

"Oh, it was…" Mrs. Brice’s voice trailed off as she tried to remember. "I… I don't… recall," she said. Her eyes became very distant and unfocused, and her husband furrowed his brow in worry.

"It's alright,Mrs. Brice. We can stop for now," the Chief said as he held up a hand. He was concerned that the distressed mother was going to have an emotional collapse.

The female detective didn't fail to notice the small head of a child with curly black hair and Tinkerbell dress pajamas peeking around a doorway at the adults conversing down the hall.

"Would your daughter Holly know?" Resistance asked, making Mr. Brice look up at her. "She was in the house today. What did she tell you?"

Mr. Brice adopted a defensive posture. "Alright, I think we’re done with questions for now. As you can see, my wife is in no condition to answer more. Just please find my son,” he said shortly. He turned to his wife and said in a much softer tone, “Let's take a rest, alright?" He began leading Mrs. Brice out of the room, and she followed him like a zombie.

"We understand, sir. We will do the best we can," the Chief said before shooting Resistance a look.

Resistance got up up go out the door with her senior officer, though she didn't take her eyes off the little girl lurking at the end of the hallway until the moment she walked out the door.

“Ressy, what was the point of asking those questions about the daughter?" the older man said rubbing his eyes. Mr. Brice already has a lot on his plate with his almost catonic wife and his missing son." He watched her stare into the house. 

“The little girl knows something, Rowan. Children always know more than what they first appear to," she told him seriously.

“How do you know, Ressy?" 

“I could see in her eyes…" she told him simply. Oh, yes… She could see the same loss and dread she had seen in herself back then.

The Chief sighed deeply at this. ”Ressy, you know this isn't Lu—“

"I know sir." She cut him off. “I’m not deluding myself by seeing my missing little sister in a missing 23-year-old-boy," she told him firmly as she looked back at her notes. “Besides, didn't you notice how the mother was acting?” she pointed out to the Chief as they walked off the property. 

The older man sighed deeply then hummed in thought. "Yeah, she appeared to be a little… Out of it," he put simply. "I thought maybe her husband gave her something to calm her down.” He rubbed the back of his head and looked back at the house as it receded into the fog behind them. 

“She wasn't on something, at least she didn't appear to be,” Ressy commented, putting a hand on her chin. She had seen people under the influence before during her time as police cadet, and even more so living with her mother growing up… Her sister's disappearance didn't exactly make that part better. “But it seemed like she didn't understand where she was or what was happening clearly, like she was in some sort of bliss." 

The Chief just sighed as he patted her back lightly. “Just go home for tonight, Resistance. Go hug Lorelei. I'm going to hug my girls for sure," he said, turning in the opposite direction which led to his old grey Honda. He got in the driver side while Resistance got in on the passenger side. The young woman just stared at the small town as they drove by. It was very gloomy that day, considering the circumstances. It seemed like fog followed whenever they had an unfortunate event. A town named after the fabled tree of life didn't seem so lively. One of the disturbing reminders of it was all the missing posters of children literally covered all the walls, posts, and shops. Children that went missing over the years… It was like a sick attraction: the town of children spirited away. It also served as a “boogeyman” to scare the surrounding towns’ children into behaving, or else they would be sent to Yggdrasil Burrow.

Ressy dragged her feet to her apartment door when the Chief dropped her off at home. Her keys jingled in her hands as she unlocked the door. Inside, she greeted the babysitter, Rachel, a college student with blonde hair, brown eyes, and sun-kissed freckled skin. “Was she any trouble?” Ressy asked as she paid Rachel for watching her daughter for the day. 

Rachel shook her head as she took her bag and the money offered to her. “Nope! We had a lot of fun! We made grilled cheese, and got really imgative with drawing,” she said as she stepped out the door. "Oh, she has an imaginary friend by the way.”

Ressy blinked at this. “Wait, what—“

But by this time the younger was gone, and Ressy shook her head, sighing. Sometimes the blonde was so immature. Considering her age, that wasn’t surprising, and it didn't make her a bad babysitter. Lorelei had a hard time with keeping one due to her "strange" behavior…

Ressy picked up a lot of the artwork that was scattered around the room. “Looks like you guys didn't pick things up again." She shook her head, sighing deeply. Lorelei, though young, had great talent. It made Ressy smile looking over the colorful pictures of pastels and many fantasy creatures. Her daughter had always had a fascination with them. One drawing caught her eye; it appeared to be a shadowy humanoid coming up the stairs. 

"Hi Mommy!" 

The older woman nearly jumped to turn around to face her daughter. "Oh! Lorelei, sweetheart, don't do that,” she said, sighing in relief but holding her chest. 

The little girl had eyes of hazel and dark brown hair which had a hint of dark purple in it. She also wore a white t-shirt and purple pajama bottoms. "I'm sorry, Mommy" she said guiltily.

Ressy kissed her daughter’s head "It's okay, sweetheart," she said before going back to pick up the pictures. "Looks like you had fun today," Ressy said, looking over the pictures. 

The little girl nodded as she helped her mother. "I'm sorry, Mommy, I forgot about them," she said monotonously. Resistance’s daughter didn't really express emotions like other children. Of course she loved and felt empathy but she seemed much more mature than other children her age. 

"They’re very pretty, sweetheart," Ressy said, picking her daughter up and then sitting on the couch with Lorelei in her lap. "Did you make these with Rachel?" 

Lorelei nodded as she yawned. “I saw them in my dreams." She pointed to each of the pictures as she rubbed her eyes. 

“What about this one?" her mother asked, showing the picture of the dark humanoid. 

"That’s my new friend. He tells me many stories," she said, drifting off to sleep on her mother. 

Resistance became a little concerned at this. "Friend? Lorelei, what do you—?” She cut herself off, seeing her daughter asleep sighing deeply in sleep. "It's been a long day for both of us, huh…" she muttered, getting up with her daughter with a groan before dragging them, both to bed. "Better clean up tomorrow…" she said, too tired to bother with the mess.

Little did she know, outside in the fog, a dark figure stood in the middle of the street looking into their window... watching them.

Art by: BrinBrin(Ghost)

Story by: Pinkroseutena

Editing by: @poorly-drawn-skeks

Art by: BrinBrin(Ghost)

[iturbide]

Wait, fudge, my brain just thought of a thing with the idea of sending a prompt of Anankos and Mikoto; 22, since I'm sure both of them have some things to vent about in regards to the past. Though if you want an extra detail, idk, 49 would be amusing because the thought of Anankos getting a tight hug made me smile. Of course, doing just 22 is also fine; 49 is more for possible detail. (Also pretend Mikoto is properly in Heroes and is not just a dream only.)

you know what I love both of these?  But I also love the idea of them co-existing in close but not immediate proximity so I’m doing them in the opposite order ;D

Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

He slowly lowered his arms as the blinding light faded, squinting even still in the overly bright sunshine as he took in his surroundings.  They were strange.  Nothing at all like the dark confines of…of…

Where had he come from? 

His thoughts were jumbled.  Turning slowly around, he saw dark grey stone beneath his feet, etched with deep grooves worn smooth by the water that flowed through them.  There was a stone just before him, depicting a tree with branches interwoven about the hole at its center.  Beyond…there were fields.  Forests.  A sky, impossibly blue, with pale clouds scudding like wave caps overhead, and he turned to follow their progress…

“Hello.”

He blinked, looking down at the stranger in the gilt hood.  “…hello,” he repeated, his voice rasping from lack of use.  “Where…am I?”

“You’re in Askr,” the figure replied.  “I’m Kira–”

“As…kr?”  He did not know this place.  He should be in…in…not here.  Somewhere.  

“Askr,” the stranger agreed.  “It’s a kingdom in Zenith.  I’m Kiran.  Who are you?”

He thought for a moment, looking down at the stone beneath his feet and the water that flowed under his boots through the runes carved into its face.  Water was familiar.  It was…part of him?  No.  Yes?  It called to him, but told him nothing as it rippled and played in the light…

“Do you remember who you are?”

He frowned, looking down at his hands for a moment as memories tumbled in and out of focus.  Water.  Darkness.  A song.  Rage.  Pain.  Grief.  A city in ruins.  A city thriving.  And he above it all, watching over them…

“I am…the forgotten god.  The Silent Dragon.  Anankos.”

The stranger…Kiran…smiled beneath their hood.  “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Why am I here?” Anankos asked.  He should not be.  He knew that.  But he did not know where he should be.  Only that…he did not want to be there, and the thought of going back filled him with dread…

“I Summoned you,” Kiran explained.  “It’s…okay, it’s kind of hard to explain, but…how about we go inside?  There’s gonna be a lot to fill you in on about the situation here and…”

His attention drifted as the stranger spoke.  But he followed when they turned, moving away from the platform and through a softly glowing arch, feeling magic flow along his skin as he crossed into a bright castle foyer filled with strangers.  Some looked up at his arrival; most spared not even a glance.  “All these people are Heroes,” Kiran said, gesturing to the unknown faces.  “And so are you, here in Askr.”

He frowned at that.  “I am…not a hero.”

The hooded figure touched his arm.  “You can be, though.  That’s what’s great about this place.  You can be a Hero, if you want.”

…what did he want?  

He could not remember.  His mind was chaos: screams of pain, joyous laughter, crushing grief, aching guilt, a song…a song…

“Anankos?”

The familiar voice stopped his heart. 

The memories washed over him: kind laughter as he tried and failed to snatch a fish from the pond bare-handed and fell into the shallow waters, a fond smile as he tried to recite a verse from memory and jumbled up the words, eyes that sparkled like the sun on the water and hair like a river flowing through the night and soft hands that held his own eternally cold ones and tried to share their warmth…

“Mikoto…?”

He turned toward the source in time to see her sprinting toward him, a roil of white robes and sea green ribbons.  And then her arms were around him, crushing the breath from him as only the deepest reaches of the darkest sea had ever done before. 

But she was laughing.  He could hear it on the air, and even without air, he felt his own mirth rippling through him as he folded his beloved – his wife – within his embrace for the first time in far too long. 

Listening to them while they vent.

Mikoto had grown quiet, of late.  She had been so lively at the time of their reunion, had taken him around the castle and grounds, shown him all the wonders this strange land of Askr had to offer.  She had accompanied him here and there on various missions, helping to guide him when he lost his way, until at last he began to settle into something like routine…

And with that familiarity came silence.  But not a kind one.  A heavy one, oppressive, like a storm hanging in the sky that had yet yet to unleash a downpour.  He could feel the unspoken words in the air, thick and choking in the uncomfortable stillness as they walked side by side, but not together. 

He did not understand. 

But he remembered, now, so many of the things he’d once lost.  He remembered her, their time together, her laughter and her lessons both…

He drew a breath, low and soft, rippling through the silent hallway.  “What troubles you?”

“What makes you imagine I am troubled?” she replied airily (but her tone chilled him like a wintery gale). 

“There are things you do not say,” he said.  “You do not need to keep your silence.  That is but my name: it is not what I demand.”

She did not laugh.  She did not smile.  She looked at him with icy eyes, and he felt the rumble of the approaching storm…but rather than retreat, he met her gaze, waiting for the hail to fall.

“You abandoned us.”

The first words dealt a heavy blow, and he nearly staggered beneath the weight of them.  “You said you were sending us away, for our safety, and I believed that.  With all my heart, I wanted to believe that – even without seeing Gyges again, I knew there were horrors rising as we fled, and every night I prayed that you would find your way safely back to us.  For years I prayed, every night, that you would return to us.  Even when the Hoshidans took us in.  Even when their king offered me a place at his side as queen and consort.  I still prayed every night that you would find your way to the gates and return to us…”

Her voice trembled, her hands curling into fists at her sides.  “And then our child was stolen.  And that’s when I stopped praying.  I’d feared for so long that you might never find your way to us, but I fought so hard to stay strong, to keep heart…but we lost everything.  I lost two husbands and my child to that exile, and now you simply appear here as though nothing at all has happened – now, when I so long ago lost the heart to pray!?”

Blood dripped from her trembling fists. 

He reached out to her, taking one of her hands and coaxing her fingers to uncurl.  Her delicate nails had dug deep into her palms, though thankfully the cuts were shallow…

Something dripped onto the marks as he leaned over them.

“I am sorry,” he breathed, and his words cracked like rime.  “I wanted to return to you.  I tried with all I had – I sought to protect you, to protect Corrin, from that horror that destroyed Valla, but…it claimed me.  All you lost was by my hand.  I am sorry I did not join you.  I am sorry, Mikoto.  I…”

Her other hand reached up to touch his cheek.  Something crept down his cheek as he lifted his head to meet her eye, and he tasted salt when it settled at the corner of his mouth.  “Why are you crying?” she asked, her voice no louder than the murmur of rain. 

He blinked, dislodging another tear as yet more welled to take their places.  “I left you to raise a child alone in an unknown land.  I could not stop that very child’s loss.  I caused you so much pain.  You suffered for my actions.  You had no reason to treat me kindly.  And yet you did.”

The words did not come easy.  But words so rarely had.  And he knew he had to speak them now, though his voice betrayed him, splintering as pack ice in the silence.  “I do not ask forgiveness of you.  I could not.  I have caused you too much grief.  But still, you called to me.  You brought me back to myself.  I owe you…I owe you everything and more.  I want to give you peace, and happiness – if I must leave to do so I will without protest–”

“Gods, you’re such a fool,” she hiccoughed. 

His breath hitched as she smiled at him, brushing tears from her own eyes.  “Haven’t you listened to a word I said?  You leaving caused this whole mess in the first place.”

“But…but after…I-I could hurt you again, I…”

“Running away isn’t going to make anything better,” she sighed.  “You need to stay.  How else can you get close to your family again, if you leave?”

Struggling to breathe, he clasped her warm fingers in his cold hands.  “You would…we could be…family again?” he whispered. 

She sighed, patting his knuckles with her free hand.  “You have a child.  A grandchild.  You can’t be part of their lives if you run away.  But it’s been a long time.”

He felt an ache in his heart, unlike any he had ever known.  But he knew, too, that this was the way it should be.  “Might we…be friends again, at least?”

At last, the light returned to her eyes, shimmering like sunlight on the waves.  “I would be glad for it, Hydra.”

How long had it been since he had been called by that name?  How long since he had heard her speak it with such warmth?  He opened his arms in silent invitation…

And she moved to embrace him, her warmth chasing away the cold fear as he lay his cheek against her hair. 

[emetoandotherthings]

I also would very much like to read the next part of the Xander and Zubin situation like I'm so excited about it.

A/N: Okay so I got about 5 different asks about the next part of THIS story where Zubin overate, needed help to burp and accidentally puked all over Xand, and Xand had a bit of an involuntary response 😉 This is categorically emeto, but it’s definitely the next part of Zubin and Xander’s story.. so I’d love to hear what you think about it! 😊 I hope you enjoy! 

Zubin lay stretched out on Xander’s bed, his stomach still in that post-puking ache which he was attempting to self-soothe by running his hand back and forth across it. He was watching Xander cleaning up the puddle of sick that he hadn’t meant to create, feeling confused and a little upset. Xander had been such a great help in making him feel better - he didn’t feel so bloated and out of sorts anymore, and while he hadn’t intended on throwing up quite so spectacularly, he couldn’t deny that  the discomfort in his gut had faded.

It was being replaced by a different discomfort - one that rankled in his chest as Xander wouldn’t look at him. His heart had begun to pound, maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned anything? Though the way the lump had pressed hard into his own crotch, it’d been pretty difficult to ignore. But now he wished he’d kept his mouth shut as Xander seemed unable to raise his gaze from the floor.

Xander’s heart was racing too as he mopped up the sick from the floor, all pleasure that he’d experienced had evaporated and he felt sick himself with dread. He could have kicked himself from getting so carried away, but now Zubin knew there was something up.

He’d supported Zubin silently onto his bed, then stripped his t-shirt which was covered in Zubin’s puke; all the while trying to figure out how to respond. He’d said nothing, and now was damning himself for not claiming that it’d been an involuntary response from having Zubin sat on his lap. He’d left it too long now.

His mind reeled - how on earth did he tell Zubin that his bloated belly and subsequent barfing had turned him on? He could only imagine the look of revulsion that would be on Zubin’s face. He didn’t even really understand why himself - all he knew was the thrill that chased through him.

The floor was pretty much spotless now, all traces of the food that had been in Zubin’s belly had gone, but Xander didn’t stop. He was trying to avoid facing this conversation - he really loved Zubin and didn’t want this to break them. But he also couldn’t change something that was so clearly hardwired into his brain.

“Xander…” Zubin’s voice wavered, and Xander finally managed to raise his head to look at his boyfriend - and his heart nearly stopped. Zubin was sat cross legged on the bed, with one hand still resting at his belly, and tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Zubin!” Xander dropped the cloth that he’d been using to wipe up and stood up. All of his worries fled from his mind as he clambered onto the bed beside Zubin. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m - I’m sorry!” He wailed mournfully, sniffling as tears continued to pour down his face. “I - I didn’t mean to upset you! I didn’t mean to be sick on you! I’m sorry!”

“No!” Xander protested, wrapping his arms around Zubin’s shoulders and pulling him in close. “No Zubin, you haven’t upset me at all!”

“But - but…” Zubin stumbled, resting his cheek against the warmth of Xander’s shoulder.

“No… No Zubin,” Xander rocked him back and forth, resting his chin upon his head. “Oh sweetheart… I didn’t mean to make you feel any worse…”

“But then - why? What?” Zubin pulled back slightly to look up at him. Xander sighed, closing his eyes and trying to figure out how to tell Zubin the truth.

“It’s nothing to do with you, I promise,” Xander said softly, finding it difficult to look into Zubin’s watery brown eyes. “It’s all to do with me…”

“What d’you mean?” Zubin asked, hiccupping slightly, then wincing as his stomach clearly gave him a bit of trouble.

“I…” Xander started, but his voice died in his throat, his mouth was dry and he found himself hugging tighter, not wanting to let go, because when he told him this, he’d probably never have anything like this moment again.

“What is it?” Zubin asked, sounding worried as he looked up at Xander. Very slowly, Xander detangled himself from clinging onto Zubin.

“You know how lots of people like things, um, like…” He struggled. Zubin frowned in confusion, not understanding what Xander was trying to say. Xander didn’t really know either, and he bit his lip. “It’s embarrassing.” He said finally, looking down at his fingers.

“I’m not gonna make fun of you…” Zubin said, but Xander scoffed slightly; Zubin put his hand on Xanders knee.

“You…” He paused. “You know how different things get different people excited…?” His voice wobbled, and he could feel himself cringing as he spoke. “Like…” He waved his hands vaguely, but Zubin seemed to pick up on what he meant.

“You mean like sexual turn ons?” Zubin whispered; Xander looked up at him and the expression on his face made him laugh. There was a tinge of colour rouged across Zubin’s cheeks, and he was biting his lip coquettishly. It was like something had broken, and Xander no longer felt so nervous; he reached out and grabbed Zubin’s hand. Zubin was either going to accept it, or he wasn’t - but it was worth the risk. It had to be, otherwise this relationship wasn’t worth it.

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this thing about bellies,” Xander told him, even saing the word sent a thrill chasing down his spine, “and people being sick… I know it’s weird, and kinda disgusting, but…”

“There’s weirder,” Zubin cut across, and Xander halted in his tracks as Zubin’s cheeks had gone rather red and he couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face.

“What?” Xander said, looking at Zubin’s face, checking for any signs that he might be being made fun of, but Zubin looked genuine.

“The thing about growing up in a sexually repressed Muslim family,” Zubin started, a wry smile dancing across his lips, “is that Google becomes your research ground. And it’s very easy to fall down a rabbit hole and find stuff you never knew existed…”

“So you’re saying…?” Xander said, his heart pounding at the possibility of what Zubin was saying.

“I like being tied up,” he replied frankly, then made a bit of a face. “Well - I’ve never actually been tied up, but I like the thought of it. It’s just…” Zubin let out a little shiver. “Perfect!”

Xander stared at him, almost in disbelief. “You…”

“So when I’ve got a bellyache, I should be coming to you for comfort?” Zubin asked, reaching out for Xander’s hand and placing it back onto his still slightly swollen stomach.

“Zu…” Xander breathed, tensing involuntarily as his fingers touched the soft flesh, which still felt a bit squishy. Zubin pouted slightly, leaning back onto the bed.

“But you’re so good at belly rubs,” he whined slightly. “And my belly still hurts.” Xander couldn’t help but shiver as he felt the way Zubin was opening up to allow him to rub his hand across his warm flesh.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” Xander said softly, but he could feel goosebumps raising on his arms.

“I��m not,” Zubin replied quickly, leaning back and closing his eyes, “in fact, you’re making me very comfortable.”

“You know what I mean,” Xander said seriously, pausing in rubbing Zubin’s belly. Zubin opened his eyes and sat up sharply, grabbing Xander’s hand.

“Xander,” he said, making effort to look directly into Xander’s eyes. “I actually don’t care whether you’re into BDSM, girls underwear, feet, puke, whatever it is!” He seized Xander’s shoulders. “I love you - and I want you to be happy! And, well -” Zubin’s cheeks went red again. “I like sex! And I want our sex to be good for both of us…” He said all of this so genuinely that Xander felt like he might cry.

“I…” Xander started, but Zubin kept speaking.

“So you can tie me up and I’ll puke on you,” he grinned. “Or vice versa.”

Xander felt a rush of happiness - flooding through him as he looked at his boyfriend, and leant forwards to kiss him. It was gentle, and loving, and Xander couldn’t explain the relief he felt as they kissed.

“I really do love you,” Zubin insisted as they broke apart.

“I love you too,” Xander replied, his eyes watering. Zubin laid back on the bed, then looked at Xander expectantly.

“Come on then,” he said, patting his own belly again. “You rub my belly for me, and maybe I’ll rub something for you later.”