#and he is a VERY skilled healer and can heal through your clothing which is most of his complaints with Scorpio who likes to just

[moeblob]

Scorpio

The most toxic man alive but also a very well trusted and respectable boss and leader of the Zodiac.

[curried-mermaid]

A Review: The Great Cleric Vol. 1

Author: Broccoli Lion Illustrators: Hiiro Akikaze, Sime Publishers: Kodansha Comics Age Group: Teen Genre: Isekai, Fantasy Type: Manga

Content Warnings: Masochism, Substance X, racism references

Spoilers ahead

Plot

After his untimely demise as the hardest-working salaryman in Japan, Luciel is reincarnated into the magical fantasy world Galdardia. Always the man with a plan, he recreates himself to be a healer, and sets about making his way in the world. But while Luciel knows a thing or two about making money, he knows absolutely nothing about Galdardia. Will his good heart and great work ethic be nought to him…The Great Cleric? 

The plot for The Great Cleric has a logical progression. He finds a town, registers with a guild, and focuses on developing his skills first (something that most people don’t do in Isekai before heading off to fight monsters), and finds a stable job where he can continue improving his skills. That’s the summation of the entire first manga. It’s a relaxing and easy read where we learn more about Galdardia at the same time as Luciel like we’re his shadow as he learns and grows. It’s a great way for the reader to be involved with the characters and story. 

Character Development

Luciel is a very positive person. He always accepts the next challenge, even if he has fears. He snaps himself out of spiraling to face his challenges head on. He makes goals and works hard to accomplish them. At the same time, he’s naive when it comes to this world which allows the audience to learn alongside him. He’s a protagonist you can easily see as the friend that helps you to keep going no matter how bad things get. I’d also say he’s a little dense because he doesn’t question much about the world (even though he wants to learn more about it). The biggest example of this is how beastfolk are seen. We get a lot of hints from how beastfolk interact with him (they think he’s odd because he treats them equally without judgement). As the audience, we get the sense that beastfolk are, at the very least, considered second class citizens. 

World-building

While the world-building is done mostly through the comic backgrounds, the artist does take time to show use people’s full outfits when they’re introduced. This gives us a sense of the style of clothing for the world and each characters personal style. I honestly wish more artists did that in their works. I find clothes interesting. We get more world-building from Luciel as he observes different things such as how the town seems to be built like medieval Europe. 

The culture of the Republic of St. Shurule (the country he reincarnated in) highly values healers. Luciel doesn’t have to pay any tolls going into cities if he’s in this country (though we learn that’s not the case with another country, The Empire). As healer’s are highly regarded, we learn more about them from the healer’s guild (which seems to need some updates to their building). It’s smaller than the adventurer’s guild and has a hard time keeping healers in line. Healers run amok in this country. We learn from several of the secondary characters such as Brod and Monica that healer’s are greedy, setting their prices to exorbitant amounts. We also get the sense from Luciel healing beastfolk that other healer’s won’t heal them. I can’t imagine what happens to them with ones that do. 

When Luciel gets reincarnated, the nameless deity that does so mentions that they hope Luciel can change things around though they won’t hold their breath. This tells the reader that not everything is as it seems. There’s some deep rooted problems that Luciel will have to face. Luckily he’s a positive person that doesn’t shrink from challenges. 

Themes

If this manga has a theme, I would say (so far) it’s to think about what your limitations are and work to push past them. Everyone has things they don’t want to do. 

Now, why is this important to the reader? According to neuroscience there is a part of the brain called the aMCC (anterior mid-cingulate cortex). This part of the brain is like a tracking of pros, cons, consequences, and rewards. It activates when you do things you don’t want to do. What’s fascinating about this is it grows based on your own efforts. The more you do something you don’t want to do such as brushing your teeth, laundry, dishes, going to work, etc the more it helps you create self-discipline making those very things easier to do over time. Its job is to help you develop self-discipline and make things less difficult. The more things you dislike but do, the more you grow. The more you grow the more willpower you’ll have to do more things (Huberman). 

See it as an equivalent exchange. The more energy you use, the more you’ll have and get back. Just like how Luciel does whenever he trains. If you’ve ever played a video game, it’s like leveling up and having more magic, stamina, etc at your disposal. 

Observations & Predictions

Luciel is an oddball since he remembers his previous life. He treats everyone equally regardless of race. I foresee this being a problem as he’s working (technically for free) at the Adventurer’s Guild. By healing adventurer’s it could cause problems with the healer’s in the area. If this happens he may be forced to transfer. 

Though, how that will happen when we know the guild can’t check healers will be interesting to see. As we know that only the head office can do something. If they don’t move then neither do the local healer guilds. 

With so many beautiful girls, he may develop his own harem or at least his own fan club. 

Recommendations

Similar Vibes:

I’ve been killing slimes for 300 years and maxed out my level By: Kisetsu Morita

Sasaki and Peeps By: Buncololi

Another Healer:

The wrong way to use Healing Magic By: Kurota

More Action:

Wise Man’s Grandchild (also known as the Sage’s grandson) By: Tsuyoshi Yoshioka *English translations exist on a variety of websites online but cannot be bought officially

The Faraway Paladin By: Kanata Yanagino, Kususaga Rin

Works Cited

Huberman, Andrew d. [@hubermanlab]. “Tweet on Neuroscience Research”, Twitter, 14 October 2023. https://x.com/hubermanlab/status/1713234704240161039

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part one - zuko x fem!reader

I am not your concern 

masterlist | part 2 

summary: as a servant in the fire nation, you’ve learned that life is often unfair. but as you venture through a tumultuous relationship with a certain prince, you come to learn a very tricky lesson: everything happens for a reason.

a/n: im so excited about this guys you dont even know. i have so much planned and i hope you all love it as much as i do - just for reference, in this first chapter y/n is 9 and zuko is 10

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): mentions of a raid, reader and zuko both being little shits lmao

chapter title comes from not your concern by the hush sound! 

Y/N sprawled out on the grass and sighed contentedly as the sun shined down on her and her mother. Today was easier than most as they had been given the day off, an occasion that was rare in the royal palace. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh scent aerating their surroundings. Her senses were blessed with a mix of sea salt and fire lilies, an ever present reminder of the two worlds she walked in.

“Y/N,” her mother chided as she glanced down at her daughter from her sewing. “You shouldn’t lay in the grass like that. You know how hard those stains are to get out; I don’t need even more work on my plate.”

“Yes, mother,” she sighed as she sat up with mock exasperation. “I just feel like I should take advantage of this! We spend all day inside, and now that we’re out here you’re worried about things like stained clothes.” Y/N pushed herself to her feet and spread her arms out as she spun in a small circle. “Life is short, and I already spend all of it sewing and healing. Don’t you think I deserve some grass stains?”

“Did you find your way into the poetry books again?” she joked. “Of course I think you should have fun, but you know how things are here. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

She continued to twirl, the soft breeze a welcome sensation on her skin. “I know, I know, but you don’t need to worry! I can—”

“Dear, watch where you’re going!”

Her mother’s warning didn’t reach her in time, a fact that became known to Y/N as she collided into the boy in front of her. A small gasp escaped her as recognition filled her now wide eyes.

“Prince Zuko!” she exclaimed, nervous hands finding their positions as she bowed. “Please forgive me for the accident, I didn’t realize you were there.”

Y/N had never spoken to the young prince directly — she mainly shadowed her mother while she did her work around the palace or honed her healing abilities under the watchful eye of Rika, their most skilled healer — but she knew enough to understand that she was to never disrespect the royal family in any way.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a small smile, alleviating the tension that had built up in her shoulders. “I’m sorry too, I wasn’t paying attention either. I actually came here for some help.” As she straightened her back, she noticed the bundle of fabric he was holding. “Are you Kura?”

“Oh, no. That’s my mother.” She pointed behind her where her mother greeted the prince with a respectful nod and smile of her own. “Did you come to get something fixed? She’s the best seamstress in all of the Four Nations.”

“My daughter flatters me,” Kura chucked. “What is it that you require, Prince Zuko?”

“She’s right, actually.” He held up the bundle of cloth which Y/N now recognized as one of the many outfits he owned. She didn’t consider herself a jealous person, but the prince’s extensive wardrobe was an exception to that rule. She had one set uniform for her work supplied by the Fire Nation, and a threadbare set for everything else that her mother had bought for her after saving up what little copper they had to spare. Y/N didn’t mind it too much as she was able to practice her sewing whenever the seams broke, but she was sure that her handiwork made up more of the outfit than the original by now.

“I tore one of the sleeves while I was training with Azula,” Zuko expressed with a frown. “I showed it to my mother, and she said that Kura would be able to fix it. I had to go through every single servant to find you, so I really hope you can. ”

Kura set her current project down and took the cloth from the prince, examining it with the skillful eye of a seamstress before meeting his eyes with another smile. “Of course, dear. I should have it ready for you by tomorrow; my daughter will deliver it to your quarters around midday.”

“Do it well,” he demanded. “I can’t focus on my training if my clothes are falling apart.”

“Hey!” she spoke up, scowling as she crossed her arms. It was like every shred of sense Y/N had disappeared the moment he talked down to her mother. “This is our day off, so you should be thankful that my mother is taking time out of her day to do this for you. Be nicer to her.”

“Y/N!” her mother scolded, her tone frantically apologetic as she turned back to the prince. “Please, forgive my daughter. She speaks her mind far too often, she doesn’t mean any disrespect.”

“No, you’re right.” A thoughtful expression found its way onto the young boy’s features, his eyes trained on her own displeasure. “My father always talks that way to the servants and I guess it came off on me. I’m sorry. It’s not nice.”

“Apology accepted,” Y/N said reluctantly.

“Thank you for your help. I’ll make sure to tell all my friends about your work.” The young prince smiled and walked off, though not without a curious second glance at the girl who righted his wrong.

As soon as the prince was out of range, Kura began to berate her daughter. “Y/N, by now you have to understand that under no circumstances may you ever speak to a member of the royal family like that! Do you know what kind of punishment you could’ve gotten if anyone else was around to hear that?”

She sighed and settled back on the ground, plucking a blade of grass from the ground. “I know, mother, but he needs to learn manners, prince or not!”

“That’s not how it works here. Our job is to serve the royal family without question. Sometimes they say mean things, but we can’t do anything about it. Apologies are not yours to demand or accept.”

“That’s not fair,” she mumbled as she wrapped the strand of grass around her finger. “Back home I could say whatever I wanted.”

“I know, honey, I know. But we’re not at home anymore, so the rules there don’t apply. We have to follow the rules that are put in place here. Can you promise that you’ll do that for me?”

“Yes, mother.” It was a phrase that seemed to always be at the tip of her tongue now that constant apologies were littered throughout her days, usually accompanied by a sigh.

“I miss home,” The murmured sentiment was almost too soft for Kura to hear and her heart sank. Her daughter’s gaze was trained on the ground, idle fingers tapping against her legs, and she put a momentary pause to her sewing with a sigh.

“Dear, don’t you have a healing session today with Rika?”

“You know I don’t,” she grumbled. “It’s my day off, which no one seems to remember.”

“Y/N.” Kura’s voice was more firm and she now understood that it wasn’t so much a suggestion as a demand. “I think you should pay Rika a visit.”

She heaved an exasperated sigh and stood up in a far more exaggerated gesture than necessary. “Alright. I’ll see you later tonight, mother.” And as Y/N began her walk back to the palace, a sour feeling brewed in her chest.

Kura watched on, unable to prevent the fear that permeated her thoughts. They were fortunate that the young prince was generous, but along with his mother they might’ve been the only two who shared those views in the royal family. She hated having to constantly admonish her daughter — the girl was too young to constantly live in fear, especially having already been through so much — but in the Fire Nation they couldn’t afford to do anything less. A spitfire girl like her daughter was constantly treading on thin ice, and it was all she could do to keep her safe.

Kura feared the day when she wasn’t there to protect her.

-

After a short walk that consisted of muttering things to herself and taking her anger out on the pebbles unfortunate enough to be in her path, Y/N found herself back at the palace. She let herself into a side entrance meant only for servants and set on her way to the infirmary when she collided with someone else — an apology was already on the tip of her tongue when she recognized it was Prince Zuko once more. She truly had rotten luck.

Y/N shot quick glances around to ensure that they were alone, then lowered her voice just for extra security. “My mom says I’m not supposed to talk to you like this, but I don’t care. Just because you’re the prince doesn’t mean you can just go around bumping into people!” she whispered angrily.

“But— you were the one who bumped into me the first time!”

She could feel her face heat up from embarrassment and she crossed her arms. “Just— whatever! Do you want something or do you just like popping up in places you're not supposed to be?”

“I guess I just wanted to talk to you,” Zuko shrugged. “I’ve never really seen you around before, and you’re interesting.”

Y/N scrutinized him trying to find out if he was tricking her somehow, but after staring at him for a solid ten seconds she finally caved. “Fine,” she said, already beginning to walk. “But you’d better make it fast. I have to get to a healing session.”

He took a few quick steps to catch up to her and frowned. “I’m the prince. Technically I could order you to stop and you would have to listen.”

“Yeah, well when it’s just the two of us, you’re just another boy. I don’t have time to talk to boys for hours.”

His brows creased for a moment as he thought about it, then ultimately shrugged once more. “Okay. You said you were going to a healing session- does that mean you’re a waterbender?”

She nodded, and Zuko waited for her to explain further. He heaved a sigh, realizing that he was going to have to carry this conversation. “Well.. what’s a waterbender doing in the Fire Nation?”

She fixed him with a puzzled look. “I’m a servant. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know that,” he frowned. “But most of the servants here are from the Fire Nation, and there are hardly any around your age. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

Y/N sighed heavily — she now knew that the child prince of the Fire Nation had zero sense of boundaries, and if she wanted to get him off her back she had to answer to his satisfaction. “My mother is a waterbender from the Northern Tribe. She left home when she was young to travel the world and help who she could with her healing, and eventually she fell in love with an earthbender. That was my father — they ended up marrying and settling down in his village where they had me a few years later. Last month, my village was raided by the Fire Nation, and my mother and I were captured after they discovered we were waterbenders. And now I’m here, being annoyed by a prince.”

Zuko frowned once more — it seemed if he continued hanging out with this girl the expression would be stuck permanently on his face — and he suddenly felt ashamed for pushing. “I’m really sorry,” he muttered. “I had no idea.”

She heaved another sigh and shook her head. “Yeah, well they probably keep a lot of the bad things they do from you. It’s easier to send raids to destroy families when your children don’t know.”

“What happened to your father?” he questioned.

Y/N’s body stiffened, and she had never been more thankful to see the infirmary door. “Save your questions for next time,” she grumbled.

Zuko’s eyes lit up, her earlier stumble going unnoticed, and a small smile found its way across his lips. “There’s gonna be a next time?”

She managed to cover up her own growing smile with an ambivalent shrug. “As long as you don’t bump into me again.” Y/N opened the door and gave him a polite parting nod before disappearing inside.

“Good afternoon, Master Rika,” she said with a small bow. “I know this is unexpected, but my mother insisted that I come here to—”

“Let me guess,” the older woman interrupted with a raised brow. “Kura got tired of you and sent you here to annoy me instead?”

Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she pushed the sleeves of her tunic up to her elbows. “When have I ever annoyed you?”

“That’s a question you don’t want me to answer,” she joked as she rummaged through the closet to get supplies. “Besides, what was that smile for? Meet a boy on your day off? A girl?”

Her eyes widened momentarily and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks intensely. “I don’t ask you about your life while we heal, you shouldn’t ask about mine!”

Zuko, who had been eavesdropping by the door in an extremely un-covert fashion, felt an even bigger smile. The girl was prickly as a cactus, but he found himself strangely drawn to her — not in spite of it, but because of it. He was so used to anyone he talked to outside of his immediate family and friends bending at the knee to fulfill his every will, and it was exhausting at times. But this girl — Y/N, as he had learned — was the complete opposite.

He started to walk away, sure that he was late for some kind of session of his own. Zuko found himself thinking of the glimpse of a smile he got, already finding himself scheming up ways to make it return.

And despite her request, he was almost certain he would try to bump into her again.

[triptuckers]

Come back to me - Jesper Fahey

Request: yes! "Hi, how are you? Would it be okay for me request a Jesper fic? Maybe something where the reader and Jesper are together and she is also part of the Crows. Since she has a set of skills quite similar to Inej, the two of you are usually paired up during crows missions. On this particular mission you are also paired up with Inej while the others are off somehwhere doing their part of the mission. But then when the two of you don’t appear at the rendezvous point on the agreed upon time Jesper grows extremely worried that something might’ve happened. What completly takes him over the edge is when a wounded Inej appears stating that something happened that resulted in you getting separated from each other and that she was hoping that maybe you arrived already and that’s she doesn’t know what state you might be in." Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader Summary: When you don't show up at the rendezvous point in time, Jesper starts to worry about you, especially when Inej - your partner for the job - shows up without you Warnings:  angst, mentions of blood, death, vomiting, bruises, language Word count: 3.1K A/N: you ask for angst? I shall write angst TAG LIST (Jesper Fahey): @mufnasa @mmvi-cdxx @brick-by-brick553@treasureofmy-heart TAG LIST (grishaverse): @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler@romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza@whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1@marlenaisnthappy @brekker-zenik @just-deka @graceknxwlson @the-very-tired-mess @sassybadqueen

There's an anxious feeling in the air. Everyone's feeling it, too nervous to talk. But no one is as nervous or anxious as Jesper.

All of them are waiting at the rendezvous point. All of them, except for you and Inej. Kaz had told them to meet at midnight sharp, and almost everyone was on time. Even Jesper was, which is rare.

He'd expected you to wait there for him, to wave happily at him. You were always smiling a lot when a job went well. He was ready to greet you and pull you in a tight hug, but when he arrived with Nina, only Kaz, Matthias and Wylan had returned.

Jesper figured you'd be there, but he'd just have to wait a little longer. There was still time until midnight. But as the minutes grow, and there's no sign of you or Inej, Jesper is getting more nervous.

After a while, he can't take it anymore, and starts to pace around. He's fidgeting with his fingers or twisting his guns in the air. Anything to help him stay focused.

'Jesper, stop being so twitchy.' snaps Kaz. 'You're making everyone nervous.'

'They should have been back fifteen minutes ago.' says Jesper, matching Kaz' irritated tone. 'We all know Y/N and Inej are always on time.'

'Then worry in silence.' says Kaz.

'How the fuck can you say that?' says Jesper, getting frustrated no one seems to be as stressed as he is. 'Did you not hear me? They are always on time.'

'Well maybe-'

Kaz' voice is cut off by a sharp gasp from Nina. Jesper whirls around to see what Nina's looking at. In the distance, they see someone emerge from the shadows.

Whoever it is, they appear to be hurt. They're pressing a hand to their side and leaning heavily to one side as they walk.

Jesper's heart begins to race. He senses everyone around him tenses up as well. His hand is on one of his guns in case it's a trap.

Then the figure emerges from the dark and they see it's Inej.

While he should be glad to see Inej is alive, this makes Jesper even more worried.

Inej showing up, alone. And hurt. What did that have to say about your state? And where are you?

Jesper stands rooted to the spot, but Nina rushes over to Inej. She helps her to walk the last bit to the others. Nina starts to go over Inej' injuries, but Inej only looks at Jesper.

'We got separated.' she says, looking utterly miserable. 'There were guards we didn't expect and we would have a bigger chance of getting away if we split up. We were supposed to meet up again, but I never saw Y/N. I would have waited longer, but I need a healer or a medic.'

Jesper forces a nod at Inej. 'At least you're safe.' he says before peering in the distance, looking for you. He can't be mad that Inej made it back and you didn't. It's not Inej' fault.

'I don't know where she is or if she's okay.' says Inej, voice breaking as she speaks. 'I'm so sorry Jesper.'

'Don't be.' says Jesper, voice tense with anxiety. 'It's not your fault.'

Kaz steps in front of Inej, looking at her bloodied side.

'Matthias, Wylan, get Inej back to the Slat. Find a healer or a medic. And fast.' says Kaz.

None of them move.

'I could heal her here.' offers Nina. 'Then we can all stay.'

Jesper knows they're al worried about you. They want you to come back. Everyone always comes back. So you have to come back as well.

'It's too risky.' says Kaz. 'I need you here in case we find Y/N and you can still heal her.'

'Don't say that.' mumbles Jesper.

'Don't say what?' says Kaz.

'In case we find her.' says Jesper, repeating Kaz' words. 'We'll find her. We're going to find her.'

'Then we have to get moving.' says Nina. 'And fast.'

After Inej tells them where she last saw you, Matthias and Wylan take her back to the Slat, leaving the others behind.

'We have to split up.' says Kaz. 'We haven't been made yet, but no doubt they're going to send more guards. So be quiet, but fast. Find a way to signal the others if- when we find her.'

Without waiting another second, Jesper takes off.

He walks through the dark, listening for any sound. His heart hammers in this chest, and he's afraid someone can hear it. He's not sure if he even wants to find you. The thought of finding you heavily injured - or worse - is almost unbearable.

Right before you and Inej said goodbye to the others, you'd winked at him. Told him that you'd buy the first round of drinks that night. He'd laughed and said he would buy the first round, insisted on being a gentleman for you.

He'd never even considered you might not make it back.

Jesper manoeuvres through the dark, a hand on his gun in case he ran into trouble.

He's listening for any sound of you, or a signal of Kaz or Nina. Then he thinks of Inej, who got hurt. She didn't say how she got hurt or who was responsible. He should have asked her when he had the chance.

His eyes notice something on the ground, glistering in the moonlight.

Jesper crouches down to take a closer look at it. He thought it was water at first, but one look at the dark liquid and he notices it is blood.

Fuck.

Could it belong to Inej? Or one of her attackers? And if it wasn't one of those, did it belong to you? Was this why you didn't show up at the rendezvous point?

Jesper looks further ahead and sees more drops of blood. Occasionally there's more, indicating whoever it was that was bleeding had stopped, then continued to walk.

With newfound hope, Jesper follow the trail.

He might not like what he'll find, but if it was you, he could help. He didn't know a lot about healing and treating injuries, but he could help stop the bleeding. He'd signal for Kaz or Nina, and Nina would be able to heal you.

His pace quickens and he doesn't care how much sound he makes or who might hear him. If that blood was yours, he had to find you. And he had to find you fast.

Jesper walks around a corner and spots a figure in the distance.

They're walking slowly, occasionally stopping to lean against the wall. Then they push themselves up to keep on walking.

Jesper slowly inches closer, a hand on his gun. Then the person in the distance walks through a stream of light of a street light, and he recognises the hair colour.

'Oh, fuck.' he murmurs. Then he takes off in a run.

When he's right behind you, you turn around, knife in your hand. But Jesper can tell you don't have enough strength left in your body to fight off someone.

Jesper's eyes widen when he sees your blood soaked clothes.

'No.' he says. 'Oh fuck, fuck, no.'

It seems like his voice brings you back to reality.

'Jes?' you say in a hoarse voice. 'What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the rendezvous point.'

'Oh, saints, Y/N, this is bad.' he mumbles.

'I think you need to buy the first round.' you manage to choke out. And then you collapse in his arms.

'No!' says Jesper, louder than he meant to. But he doesn't care who might hear him right now. He's still got his guns and his quick shooting skills.

Jesper pulls you in his lap, pressing a hand to your bleeding side.

'Sorry.' you say softly.

'What on earth do you have to apologise for?' mumbles Jesper as he focuses on your injuries.

'M bleeding all over your coat. I know it's your favourite.' you say, pouting slightly.

'I'll get a new one.' says Jesper. 'Save your strength. What happened?'

'Inej and I got jumped. We ran. Inej got stabbed. Then I got stabbed. And I got shot. I also got punched in the face so I'll be less pretty with a huge bruise on my face.' you say softly, feeling your eyes grow heavier.

Jesper seems to notice and gently pats your cheek.

'Stay awake for me, love.' he says, his voice slightly trembling. 'Still need to buy you that drink.'

'Hmm.' you hum, briefly closing your eyes. 'Did Inej make it back?'

'Yes, Wylan and Matthias took her back to the Slat, she'll be okay. Like you.' says Jesper. 'Help is on the way.

You reach out and grab one of Jesper's hands. You smile weakly and Jesper shakes his head.

'No, no, don't you dare.' he says, tears forming in his eyes. 'Don't you fucking dare say goodbye, Y/N. This is not goodbye.'

'Just in case.' you say softly. 'In case I don't make it.'

'Don't say that!' says Jesper, getting frustrated with you. 'You're not dying on me now, Y/N, just hold on a little longer.'

'M trying.' you say. 'It hurts.'

'I know it does, love, just stay awake for me. At least long enough until Nina comes.' says Jesper.

'You know I love you, right?' you say softly, voice barely louder than a whisper.

'Don't say goodbye.' says Jesper. 'Don't go.'

'Say it back.' you say.

Jesper shakes his head. 'I'll tell you when you're okay, when Nina's taking care of you.' he says.

'Jesper, please.' you say, almost begging him. 'Say it back.'

'When you're okay.' says Jesper, tears now falling down his cheeks.

You squeeze his hand with as much strength as you can gather, silently asking him again.

'I love you.' he says softly. 'I always have and I always will.'

You smile weakly and feel your eyes become heavier. 'Good to know.' you whisper.

And then you close your eyes.

Jesper's eyes widen. 'No.' he says, softly shaking you. 'No, no, fuck!'

His fingers quickly search for a pulse, but in his panicked state he can barely concentrate.

'No, no, no.' he keeps mumbling.

He looks up, desperate to see Nina or Kaz. But there's no one. No one but you laying in his arms, closed eyes and a shirt soaked with blood.

'Nina!' he yells. He doesn't care who can hear him. Friend or foe, he needs someone.

'Nina!' Jesper yells again. 'Nina! Over here! I found her! Nina!'

He keeps yelling until his voice is hoarse and his throat sore. He keeps on yelling and yelling until finally, someone runs toward him in the distance.

'Nina.' he says weakly. 'I- uh- I found her.'

Nina immediately flexes her fingers and starts to work on your injuries. Jesper wants to ask her if you're going to be okay, but he's afraid of the answer.

While Nina words on healing you, Kaz finds you as well. His expression is blank as he looks at your limp body in Jesper's arms. He tries not to show it, but he's terrified as well.

Finally, Nina turns to Jesper.

'I did the best I could.' she says softly. 'We have to take her back to the Slat, find a proper healer. She might still have a chance.'

'Okay.' says Jesper, suddenly feeling numb, as if he no longer has any emotion in his body.

'Can you carry her back to the Slat?' asks Nina.

Jesper nods, rising to his feet while clutching your body to his chest.

He walks back to the Slat as fast as he can, followed by Nina and Kaz. He's trying not to look down at your face, or think too much about you.

Instead, he forces himself to focus on Nina's words.

She might still have a chance.

It was going to be okay. They'd find a Grisha healer who could help you. Who could heal you where Nina couldn't. You were going to be okay.

Back at the Slat, it looks like Inej only had minor injuries. She's sitting in a chair, fresh bandages peeking out underneath her shirt. She jumps to her feet when she sees you in Jesper's arms, and winces at the sudden movement.

Jesper doesn't say anything, merely spares her a glance as he starts to walk up the stairs to your shared room.

He pushes open the door and gently places you on the bed.

Jesper sinks into a chair next to the bed and allows his tears to flow freely. You don't look like yourself. Your face is pale, your shirt still soaked with blood. You looked like a stranger to him. He doesn't want this to be his last memory of you.

He has no sense of time, and when Nina bursts through the door, he doesn't know how long it has been. She's closely followed by a boy Jesper doesn't know.

Nina quickly introduces him as a Grisha healer, and the boy gets to work.

Nina watches Jesper, who is watching you.

'Jes?' she says softly. 'Are you okay?'

Jesper shakes his head. 'I'm going to throw up.' he says, and then he rushes to the bathroom, falling to his knees in front of the toilet. Nina rubs his back as he throws up.

He stays there, unable to look at you any longer and afraid he might throw up again. He's trembling all over and no matter how hard he tries it, he can't seem to make it stop. Nina stands between the door of the bathroom and the bed, watching both you and Jesper.

Finally, Jesper hears the healer speak up.

'That's it.' he says. 'I've healed her, she should wake up in a few days. Don't wake her, just wait for her to wake up on her own.' he says.

Jesper hears how the healer leaves, and Nina is back by his side.

'Jesper?' she says.

He looks over his shoulder at her, and is met by her smile but also her tear stained cheeks. Of course. You're their friend too.

'I'll change her shirt, okay? Maybe you can come back after that? Sit with her?' she says.

Jesper nods and pushes himself to his feet. 'There's clean shirts in the closet.' he says softly. 'Just grab one, doesn't matter if it belongs to me or her.'

He waits for a few minutes before entering the room again. Nina's changed your shirt and got rid of the bloodied shirt. Your hair is still messy and there's indeed a nasty bruise forming on your face.

But most of your wounds are covered in bandages. Jesper holds back new tears as he approaches you.

He slowly sits down in the chair and takes your hand in his. He's surprised by how warm it still is. He hopes that's a good sign.

'Y/N, love?' he says softly. 'Look, I don't know if you can hear me, but I need you to wake up, okay? Just come back to me. I still have to buy that first round of drinks. And I still need to take you to Novyi Zem to dad's farm. You still have to meet him.'

He reaches out to brush some of your hair out of your face.

'Come back to me, sweetheart. I need you. I can't do this without you.' says Jesper softly.

He sits with you for a while, just looking at you and holding your hand. Occasionally, someone comes in to check on you or Jesper. Eventually, sleep takes over.

Jesper wakes to the feeling of something on his cheek.

When he opens his eyes, he sees it's your hand. Your eyes are open and you're softly talking to someone who is standing behind him. When you notice he's awake, you offer a weak smile.

'Hey you.' you say softly.

At the sound of your voice, new tears roll down his cheek.

'Oh, saints.' he says, lifting his head and grabbing your hand with both of his, pressing kisses to your bruised knuckles. 'Fuck, I thought you weren't going to wake up.' he says.

'Can't get rid of me that easily.' you say. You look at the person standing behind Jesper. 'Thanks for the tea, Inej.' you say.

Jesper hears the door closing behind him. Though the didn't hear any footsteps, he knows Inej left the room.

You look at him again.

'Don't you ever fucking do that again, you hear me?' he says firmly. 'Never. Saints, that was awful.'

'Sorry.' you say. 'Your eyes are red.'

'Yeah, no shit. I thought you died in my arms. I threw up a lot.' he says.

'I thought I died in your arms.' you say. 'Next thing I know I wake up with Inej watching me so intensely I thought she was going to stare right through me.'

Jesper chuckles and pulls his chair closer to you.

'I'm serious, though.' he says. 'Don't do that again.'

'I won't.' you say. 'I asked Kaz to put me on some of the low risk jobs for a while. Just until I feel like I'm ready to handle more.'

'Smart.' says Jesper.

'I'm sorry, really.' you say. 'That you had to go through that. I can't imagine what if felt like.'

Jesper raises his eyebrows. 'You almost died and you're the one apologising to me?' he says.

'For almost dying in your arms, yes.' you correct him.

'Don't apologise.' says Jesper. 'Just tell me whoever did this so I can put a bullet in their head.'

This time, you raise your eyebrows. 'You think I let them get away?' you say.

'Well, I don't know. Maybe?' says Jesper. 'You could barely walk when I found you.'

'I did let them get away.' you say. 'But with at least three knives in their chest. There's a good change I hit a lung or some other vital organ.'

Jesper grins. 'That's my girl.' he says.

You smile at him. 'Now come here.' you say. 'As long as you don't lay your entire body weight on top of me, you can lay next to me.'

You carefully scoot over and make some room for him. Jesper climbs into the bed next to you and you rest your head on his chest.

'Thank you.' you say.

'For what?' says Jesper.

'Staying with me.' you say.

'Always.' says Jesper, and you feel how he kisses your forehead before you fall asleep.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[omgrachwrites]

Her Prince - Prince Hal

Pairing: Reader x Prince Hal (The Hollow Crown)

Summary: The man that comes to visit you at your woodland cottage - the man that you’re falling in love with - is a mystery. When you discover what he’s hiding from you, it turns your whole world upside down.

Warnings: fluff, angst, ooc Hal probs, mentions of blood

Words: 2569

Disclaimer: So, I know that none of this would ever happen but I’m a hopeless romantic?? Characters will be ooc probably

A/N: I promise that I will be getting back to my usual fics but I had a really shitty day in work and I had to make my self feel better. The Hollow Crown was one of Tom’s superior looks! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx

I've been living to see you Dying to see you, but it shouldn't be like this This was unexpected, what do I do now? Could we start again please?

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The day was swelteringly hot and you were in front of your woodland cottage, tending to your herb garden. You were the best healer in the village and the townspeople ventured out of the safe confines of their stone walls to come and seek an audience with you in your forest cottage. As you were tending to the thorned plants, your hand slipped and you near enough sliced your hand open.

You gasped out into the silent air as thick scarlet blood blossomed on your palm but before you could do much about it, you heard the gallop of horse hooves in the distance, getting closer with every breath you took. Then, he called out to you and your heart fluttered with anticipation.

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” he beamed as his horse came to a stop.

You blushed as you looked at Hal’s handsome face, he was handsome enough to be a Prince with his honey brown curls and sparkling blue eyes, “hello, Hal,” you smiled as you sat on your little stone wall, your legs hanging over the edge, “it’s nice to see that you’re not half dead this time,” you laughed, recalling the first time you met him. He’d been injured and if you’d waited longer to heal him then he’d be dead.

Hal sighed, teasingly as he dismounted from his horse, “must you always mention that every time I come to visit you?”

You laughed as you reached a leg out to lightly kick at his knee, “of course, I’m never going to let you forget it,” you smiled and he rolled his eyes. By the look of his flushed cheeks, he’d been riding a long way today and you thought that he might care for some refreshment, “would you like some water? Or milk and honey, perhaps, to cool you down?”

Hal smiled and opened his mouth to reply but he hesitated when he caught sight of your slashed palm. He tutted and reached out for your hand, running his gentle fingers over the cut, “you’re hurt,” he lifted his concerned eyes to meet yours and you bit your lip as your eyes dropped down to his lips for a split second.

“It’s alright,” you breathed, “it’s just a cut from some thorns.”

“Here,” Hal smiled as he reached into his satchel bag and pulled out some fresh smelling cloth, “I don’t think that my healing skills are quite up to the level of yours, but I always keep some with me, just in case,” he chuckled and wrapped your hand in the bandage.

It was so courteous of him that you couldn’t help but stare at him, flustered and searching for something – anything – to say, “I’ll go and fetch you that glass of water,” you laughed nervously as you turned away, grimacing when his pleasant laughter followed you into the cool interior of your cottage. It was such a relief to be out of that heat, if only for a couple of minutes.

Quickly, you poured him a tankard of water before walking out into the scorching sun again.  Hal gave you a grateful smile as you handed him the water and he drained it in one swallow, gasping as he smacked his lips before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You had to fight back a giggle.

“By God, I needed that, thank you, Y/N,” he smiled as he sat beside you on the small wall, his leg pressed against yours. Your cheeks flushed at his close proximity.

Over the few months that he had been coming to see you, you had grown to care for him, in fact you were falling in love with him. You wondered who he really was, “have you got an outing planned for tonight? I know that you prefer to collect your ingredients at night,” it was so nice that he’d remembered.

You bit your lip nervously as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You could hardly tell him that you were going to the Royal Palace, Hal had already expressed his distaste for King Henry and the Prince of Wales, you didn’t want him to think any less of you. The King had heard of your skills and he’d invited you to court to speak to you about taking the post of physician when his current one retired. You were very grateful that word of your skills had reached the King’s ears.

“No, no outings tonight,” you felt your cheeks grow hot and the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

Hal sat on your stone wall with you, keeping you company for a little while longer, and when he took his leave, you sent him off with raspberry tartlets which you had drizzled with honey and baked golden brown. For as long as you lived, you would never forget the way he smiled at you so sweetly as he cupped your cheek, before he brushed his lips against yours, as gentle as a whisper.

When he pulled back to look at your reaction, your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were afraid that he’d heard it and you felt pleasant tingles all over your body. When he found no sign of hesitance – you would have to be a fool to reject him – he pulled you closer and kissed you deeper. You stood on your tiptoes to meet his kiss as you allowed your fingers to run through his curls as you kissed him in the peaceful little clearing. Long after Hal had left, your lips still tingled from the memory of his intoxicating kiss.

Later on that evening, you were being escorted down the never-ending hallways by a Palace guard – how people found their way around this castle, you had no idea – you were dressed finely for your audience with the King, a dress from green silk that you’d made yourself. You were so nervous and the guard must have sensed it because he gave you an encouraging smile.

“Everyone has is worrisome before meeting the King,” he chuckled, “the common folk prefer the Prince.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “they do? I have never met him; will he be at court today?” you asked with interest.

“I think not, he’s been in the tavern often, of late.”

You grimaced to yourself, spending time in the tavern was not wise for the future King but you kept your thoughts to yourself. As you entered the Throne Room and saw the old proud King on his Throne, you wanted to bolt out the way you came in but you forced yourself forwards until you were kneeling at his feet.

“Your Majesty, thank you for seeing me,” you kept your head bowed as was the custom.

“Please, rise my child,” with a small smile, you got to your feet and looked at the King, “Miss Y/N, I have heard great tales of your skills and accomplishments. I believe you’ve healed quite a few soldiers in my army?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, they often come by my cottage, it’s the quickest path to the castle.”

“Quite,” the King nodded, “I thank you for your service, my physician has grown old and his methods are not what they used to be. If you would, return three days from now and we can truly see what you can do.”

A slight sting of annoyance shot through your body but you would never let it show on your face, you would rather show him now but to argue with the King was to wish for death. Before you could accept, the door to the right of you opened and the King sighed as he shook his head, you were too nervous to see who it was.

“Finally, my son, you need to extend your apologies to our guest for being late.”

“My apologies,” a soft distracted voice came to the right of you, the King gave the Prince a sharp look and the Prince of Wales sighed as he walked in front of you, “please accept my apologies, my lady,” when he looked at you, his eyes faltered and his mouth opened in surprise.

Tears sprang to your eyes as you practically felt your heart crack as you stared at Hal – your Hal – he was the Prince? Words couldn’t describe how you felt but if you had to use one word, it would be ‘betrayed.’

Keeping your voice steady, you looked back at the King, “may I have your leave to go, Your Majesty.”

“Of course,” the King inclined his head.

As soon as the King replied, you bowed once more and escaped from the room as quickly as you could without actually running. You heard Hal say something to his father before you heard his quick footsteps follow you, “Y/N!” you shook your head and kept walking, refusing to look back at him, you wouldn’t let him see you cry, “please!” his voice broke and you couldn’t help yourself, you had to stop and look at him.

Well, you didn’t look at him, you kept your eyes on the floor, “Your Majesty,” you mumbled as you saw Hal’s feet walking closer to you.

You felt a warm gentle hand on your chin and you allowed yourself to look at his face, he looked so apologetic and his eyes almost looked wet, “we should talk.”

“As Your Majesty wishes.”

Hal looked sick as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek, “please don’t call me that, nothing’s changed between us.”

“Nothing’s changed?!” your sadness quickly turned to anger and you momentarily forgot where you were, “everything’s changed!  Why didn’t you tell me? By God!” you gasped as you slapped a hand to your forehead, “I’ve been rude to you! And you’re the crowned Prince! I kissed you!”

Hal bit his lip as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to treat me any differently, and technically, I kissed you,” he chuckled.

“Why?” you asked, holding back the tears, “why would you kiss me? Was it for something to laugh about with your noble friends,” your eyes went blurry as a wave of sadness washed over you.

“No, Y/N! Angel, no, I kissed you because I love you!”

Your heart stopped in your chest but it wasn’t from happiness, it was from overwhelming sadness, you would have longed to hear that just a few hours ago but now, you would rather that he didn’t say anything, “you can’t say that,” you shook your head as you backed away from him and Hal’s face fell, causing you to look away as you felt a stab of pain shoot through your heart.

“It doesn’t make it any less true,” he mumbled.

“I have to go,” you sighed as tears slid down your cheeks and ran over your lips, “goodbye, Your Highness,” walking away from him was the hardest thing you had ever done – especially when he was calling after you in that broken voice – but you had no other choice. He was the future King.

A year later, you were in your chambers at the palace, you hadn’t seen Hal since you had said goodbye to him. He’d been staying at his castle in Wales, though it wasn’t far away enough to make you forget about him. It was a particularly rainy day when your apprentice came bursting through the door with a shocked look on his face.

“Y/N! Y/N! Have you heard the news?” he was out of breath from running and it made you laugh.

“Calm down! What news?”

“The Prince is back, he’s in the tavern in the village, the word is that he’s abdicated the Throne for a peasant girl.”

You were so shocked that you dropped the empty beaker you were holding, letting it shatter across the ground, “are you,” you cleared your throat as you tried to gather your thoughts, “are you sure?” when Arthur nodded, you gulped and looked at him nervously. He’d probably abdicated the Throne for a pretty girl that he’d met in Wales but he used to love you and there was a sliver of hope in your chest, you had to go and see for yourself, “can you keep an eye on things here?”

“Yes, but where are you going?” Arthur frowned at you as you grabbed your cloak but you shook your head without another word.

Your riding had got much better while you were staying at the castle and you got to the tavern in a surprisingly short amount of time. You hoped that Hal was still here. As you opened the door to the warm tavern a hushed silence fell over the patrons as they stared at the newcomer. You didn’t have to search far for Hal because he was in the middle of everyone with a pretty blonde woman perched on his lap. His eyes widened as he looked at you, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. Hal had seemed to become even more beautiful in the year that he’d been away. He looked like an angel.

The woman sneered at you and you realised that he hadn’t abdicated the Throne for you at all, you were such a fool. Offering Hal, a sad smile with tears sparkling in your eyes, you turned to leave, walking out into the cold evening air again. You had barely mounted your horse before you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist from behind and a warm hand came to brush your tears away.

“Why are you crying petal?” he whispered.

You could feel the fissure in your heart widen and your knees almost buckled at the sound of his soft voice, “because you’re you a fool,” you sniffled as you turned to face him, “abdicating the Throne for that woman.”

Hal let out a surprised laugh as he shook his head, “I haven’t abdicated the Throne for her,” he jabbed his thumb in the direction of the tavern, “I’ve abdicated it for you.”

Your heart soared as you gasped, searching his face for any deceit, instead you found nothing but love, “me? Why?”

Hal grinned as he cupped your cheek, “isn’t it clear my dear? Because I love you, I would rather give up my future rule than lose you.”

Tears sprang to your eyes again but for a completely different reason and you rested your hands against Hal’s firm chest, “was your father angry?” you couldn’t believe that this brave handsome man had given up everything for you.

“Furious,” Hal rolled his eyes, “but I don’t want to live without you, I love you, Y/N. I would like nothing more than to live the rest of my days with you by my side.”

You smiled as your fingers curled through his hair as you gazed up at him, “I love you too,” you pulled him into a passionate kiss and at the first touch of his lips, you gasped, it felt like coming home, “I’m going to have to find a new post,” you laughed, you couldn’t go back to the palace now.

Hal only chuckled as he pulled you in for another kiss, for the first time in your life you had no idea what was coming next. However, you couldn’t find it in your heart to care, you had your Prince and that was all that mattered.

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

@smiithys​

[theelvenhaven]

Elves Reacting To Your Period

Imladris

Elrond

Elrond is an ellon expert knowledge of healing, humans and had a sibling who chose a mortal life. Let alone making Imladris a haven for all races and walks of life- that were peaceful, of course. So you wouldn’t be the first menstruating human he’s been around. He is completely and utterly supportive yet subtle and discreet knowing that this is a delicate time for you. As well as possibly embarrassing to make a tremendous fuss over it.

Elrond discreetly brings you pain relievers, has soothing teas prepared for you, checks in on you when he has the time available. The Healer in him brings him to fret over you some, and should your pain be severe, he is quick to alleviate it. He’s had thousands of years to assist with such things, and you being his partner, he will more than happily help you. He will also make sure any menstrual products are there at your immediate disposal. 

Elrond is very gentle with you, being sure to provide you with the emotional and mental comfort that you might need during the day. Making himself far more available through your period if he can help it, wanting to make sure you have the proper support you need. Saving any physical comforts for later when you two can be alone properly and uninterrupted.

Glorfindel

This warm ball of sunshine isn’t entirely clueless about humans and their menstruation cycles. He has spent little of his time around it or reading about it. While logically he knows you menstruate, it surprises Glorfindel the first time he encounters it with you. Glorfindel is worried he has hurt you somehow or another, even if the placing of blood on your clothes and sheets show that he couldn’t possibly have hurt you.

Glorfindel is quick to try to get you to a healer or a healer to you, wanting to make sure you are in fact okay. Though when you explain to him that partially, you are okay and that the bleeding is normal; he is quick to simmer down. The ease with which you speak of it is what brings him to trust you on it, and he attentively listens to you. Glorfindel also asks you a lot of questions about it, as it is human men he is used to being around, so his knowledge about your reproductive health is not extensive. He is also quick to help you clean up any sheets or clothes that need to be taken care of, or take over gathering the items while you clean and situate yourself.

Glorfindel will do what he can to take some time off during your worst days of menstruation and is unfortunately not exactly tactful about it at first. You will have to tell him if it bothers you, in the event you find it embarrassing, as he has no shame in announcing it. Because he will straightforwardly tell them “Y/N is menstruating I am afraid I am unavailable until further notice.”. Once you tell him, Glorfindel will keep that talk between you, him and the Healers if need be. When he can’t be there with you, he instead sends a healer in to check on you and bring you the things you need.

Erestor

Erestor is extremely knowledgeable and has spent a copious amount of time absorbing everything there is too in the library. Even on healing subjects, no matter how gruesome or unusual they may seem to him. But with dealing with menstruation... Well, that is a completely different story. Erestor won’t make a massive fuss over you being on your period, but he is entirely flustered by what you are going through. 

At first he genuinely doesn’t know what to do. He never imagined he would have to deal with a menstruating human. Even when he started courting you. But Erestor is very technical and by the book- literally here. So he does what he thinks anyone should do, and goes to reference his books quietly and away from prying eyes.Erestor is extremely discreet about helping you, keeping the matter very private. Don’t mistake this for him being ashamed of you, he is far from ashamed of your bodily function. Erestor is just a very private ellon. 

He places a few orders for a dozen or more every month, for pain relievers to be kept in your shared chambers at all times. Stashed away in your desk drawers too so they are readily available and you or him aren’t having to haul off to the Healing Halls all the time. Quietly he will consult Elrond- the only other elf he will tell about it- if he feels like he isn’t doing enough until he gets the hang of helping you. If your pain and discomfort is severe, Erestor- while one for privacy- will go with you to the Healing Halls and explain the matter to them. Diligently sticking by your side and listening intently for care instructions and how to help you further.

Lindir

Lindir is completely and utterly flustered when he discovers that you are menstruating. It is not that he is doing it to make you feel bad- which only makes him feel worse when he sees his embarrassment is distressing you- it’s that he just doesn’t know what to do. Seeing the blood on the sheets and on your clothes makes him feel faint as are you hurt? But then you explain its your period?

Of course he knows what a period is from what he has overheard when coming to see Elrond in the Healing Halls. But that doesn’t make him any less uncomfortable about it. He is stammers and stutters asking questions and is bright cherry red trying to figure out what to do next. Despite all this fuss he has stirred up, Lindir is really supportive. Just the first few times this is what you will encounter. With him profusely apologizing for embarrassing you or distressing you. 

Trying to help somehow, nervously going down to the healers or Elrond for the things you need while you tidy up. Elrond swore the first time he came to him and had to talk to him about it, that he was going to faint over the ordeal. Elrond made him sit an extra ten minutes until he could calm down and send him back to you. On his way back, Lindir sends for someone to fix you your favorite meal and may grab a flower or two as an overly sweet gesture to apologize with the pain reliever in hand. In time, every time you have your period, he gives you a flower with your first meal after he sees how happy it makes you the first time.  

Elrohir

While Elrohir is used to being around humans, them being menstruating humans is a completely different subject. As it is, he is already pretty protective over you and your well being, especially since you’re human and considers you to be more fragile. So when you wake up and are bleeding or have bled through your clothes and maybe even on him, worried is a very simple way of putting it. He certainly makes a fuss over it between you both!

While being such a great healer himself, he is ready to give you an exam from head to toe and figure out why and where you are bleeding. When you tell him what your period is, and its purpose, Elrohir’s visibly relieved that no, it is not life threatening. And grateful that no he didn’t sleep through you getting hurt- as he is a heavy sleeper. Though he voices his concerns that you are now physically uncomfortable. But like his father, Elrohir is quick to use his skills in healing to good use to help ease your pains and discomforts. Making and bringing you tonics and pain relievers and anything you need to ease the nuisance of your menstruation. 

Elrohir will prefer that you take time off from any work and take time off his own duties to be with you when he’s in Imladris. Like this goes without question and there is no making him change his mind, every single month. Without fail Elrohir takes that week off to be with you. Even if you tell him you will be fine, Elrohir is taking the time off regardless and will absolutely even go as far as to delay his leavings with the Rangers until the time has passed. He’s happy to hold you and kiss all over you and lounge around with you if that makes you feel better. He’ll read softly to you, or comfort you through such tough emotional difficulties, and most definitely not skip over any whims you may have for food. 

Elladan

Like Elrohir, he isn’t used to be around menstruating humans at all. Though he is far more laid back compared to his brother. So rather than making a huge fuss about your menstruation, Elladan will ask you seriously if you are okay and carry on as if it were not really a big deal. Making a few light hearted jokes to keep your mood up if he can tell it is negatively affecting you.

Elladan will help you clean things up without question. The sheets are dirty and you’re embarrassed? No big deal, you can’t help it. Elladan just carries on normalizing these instances for you entirely, as he just wants you to be comfortable with him. I headcanon that while Elladan does and can heal, making tonics/pain relievers aren’t his strong suit and he will definitely ask his brother to do so for you. 

Elladan is laid back, so if you need anything from him you can most certainly tell him and he will do it without question. You want alone time because you’re furious? No big deal, he will back in an hour or two. You want him all to yourself all day? You’ve got it. It embarrasses you to go to the healing halls for menstruation products? Say no more, Elladan is already halfway down the hall to get it for you. 

Bonus:

Haldir

Haldir is no stranger to blood or humans and their customs and bodily functions. So when you menstruate the first time while together, he completely and totally expected it to happen. It was inevitable, but that doesn’t mean that he knows everything you need. Haldir knows that pain is something that generally seems to be an issue for menstruating humans and is at least prepared for that much.

He asks you what all you need while bringing you a vial of pain reliever he has stored in talan or on his person specifically for you. Telling you not to fuss with anything other than yourself, if it's like a bedroll or comforter you’ve bled over. The ellon knows how to get blood out of fabric and will first handle the list of things you need and then tend to the stained fabric. Haldir will go and fetch the things you need without batting an eyelash, and he just brushes any of the healer's concerns aside. 

Even if they offer to help, he just shrugs away their words, knowing you’ll go to them if you need it and that there is no sense and making a big deal over something so normal for you. Haldir will listen to all of your woes about it, comforting you even in his more subtle ways however he can. Holding your hand, rubbing your back, and in private holding you close. Haldir though will just tell you flat out to do something that will help you if he knows you are putting it off or have forgotten. Unperturbed by the conversation or needing to help you when he’s around and not on patrol.

* * * 

tags:

@saviorsong​ @lilmelily​ @dicksoutformtl​ @fandomhoe101​ @icarus-fell-in-spring​ @iwenttomordor​ @red-riding​ @elarinya-nailo​

[kat-katsuki]

Sunflower and White Rose | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader Part 1

Fantasy AU

Genre: Drama

Masterlist

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

WC: 2.4k

The northern tribe of the dragon riders had a tradition. Every year, the tribe holds a fire festival, also known as the coming-of-age festival, to celebrate those step foot into adulthood. All the 16 year olds will gather around the bon fire to dance with their partners. It is said that lovers who dance together will be blessed by the fire god, and their love will last for all their lifetimes to come.

Bakugou Katsuki was prince of the tribe, and the bravest, most skilled dragon rider of their generation. He is the dream man of almost all the young ladies in the tribe. This year, he was to come of age. The young fifteen and fourteen year olds cried to their parents, asking why they weren’t born a year or two earlier.

Little did they know the young prince already had his eyes on someone. You.

You were quite the black sheep of the tribe. The tribe was full of dragon shapeshifters and riders. Your people were known for bravery and freedom. Children were taught at a young age how to soar through the sky, whether it be on their own wings, or riding a winged one. You, on the other hand, were terrified of heights.

You were often made fun of by your peers. Even Bakugou himself had once made fun of you for being a coward when the two of you were just children.

However, you had the kindest soul the world has to offer. Even though you were the laughingstock of your generation, you never got mad or embarrassed. You simply smiled and treated everyone with respect. You weren’t jealous of those who soared the sky. Instead you focused on the wonders the earth had to offer.

Because you were neither a rider nor a shapeshifter, you made good friends with Midoriya Izuku, the young outsider who lived a few miles outside the tribe. He and his mother had moved here when he was very little. Although the tribe had a reputation for being savages and fearful of outsiders, the dragon tribe was actually very welcoming. Bakugou’s mother made friends with Midoriya’s mother almost immediately, and Midoriya was raised alongside of the youngsters of the tribe. However, because Bakugou often made fun of Midoriya for being scrawny and weak, Midoriya had few friends in the village. Midoriya’s mother was a healer, so Midoriya too, studied medicine.

You were always fascinated by herbs and flowers, so you often went to Midoriya’s house to learn from them. When you weren’t at their house, you often laid in the flowerbed, enjoying the scent of nature.

How Bakugou fell for you was an accident, literally. He and Kirishima, his dragon, were soaring through the skies, practicing the new tricks they’ve learned, and that was when the accident happened. Bakugou lost balance, and accidentally steered Kirishima into a large boulder on the top of the mountain, and the two fell right onto the flowerbed you were laying on. Thousands of flowers were crushed under the large red dragon, petals and pollen scattered into the sky and then falling down like rain.

You stood in the sea of flowers, wide eyed. The prince had fallen. The best rider of the tribe had fallen. You quickly rushed over to the fallen prince and his dragon. Kirishima was protected by his strong and sturdy scales, so he only ended up with scratch wounds and maybe a concussion. Bakugou, on the other hand, broke his left arm.

When Bakugou saw you his eyes widened with horror as his face turned into a deep shade of crimson. Someone had saw him fall out of the sky. Of all people to see him embarrass himself, it was you, the loser of the tribe. “Don’t you fucking dare tell anyone about this! Or else I’ll kill you!” he threatened you.

“O-Okay!” You nodded timidly. “B-But your arm is broken. It needs to get treated immediately or-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! I DON’T NEED HELP FROM A FUCKING FAILURE!” He slapped your hand away.

“Katsuki that’s not very nice. She’s just trying to help!” Kirishima said when he transformed back into his human form. Despite his insults, you didn’t hesitate to help him and Kirishima to a small cave far away from the village, where they can rest and heal in peace. Normally, when dragons or riders get injured, they’d call a shaman to do a few chants, and let the gods heal their wound. Herbs and medicine are foreign practices that were not used in the tribe, so when you brought the medicine you had made for the prince and his dragon, he refused to let you put it on him.

Kirishima, on the other hand, was very open to these foreign stuff. He let you put your homemade creams on his scrape wounds to stop the bleeding. “Oh man this feels so good! Katsuki you gotta try it!”

After a lot of persuading, Bakugou finally let you put some medicine on his scrape wounds. The cream stung at first, but after the stinging sensation was over, it left a cool feeling on his skin that soothed the pain. Bakugou couldn’t help but notice how the wounds healed much faster with the strange green plant juice you put on him than the chants of the shaman. Eventually, he let you wrap his arm to a stick, which you said will help his arm heal.

You tore the cloth to your dress, shortening it to barely over your butt. You gently raised his broken left arm, placed two straight logs to either side of his arm, and wrapped the cloth around them. Only then did Bakugou finally take a closer look at you for the first time in his entire life. For a failure, you were breathtakingly beautiful. Your (e/c) orbs seemed to sparkle under the moonlight, and from your (h/c) hair, he could smell a faint scent of flowers.

Every day you’d come back with food, water, and medicine. While Kirishima’s wounds were healed a long time ago, he waited with Bakugou for his arm to recover. Before Bakugou knew it, he began looking forward to seeing you everyday.

You almost always had cuts and bruises on you somewhere. Bakugou knew exactly how you got those. Ever since you were a kid you were always bullied by the other children in the village. You and Midoriya were always the targets of their rock throwing and sharp shooting practices. Although Bakugou never bothered to join in, he used to always scoff at your miserable state. Now, seeing those dark purple patches over your skin, he could only feel his blood boil. “Who did it?” he’d ask, but you would only show him that annoyingly goofy smile of yours, telling him that you fell, when you clearly didn’t.

He didn’t know why he felt a strange disappointment inside him when you told him he was fully healed. “You can go back now,” you said.

“Alright! Now we can go flying again!” Kirishima cheered.

Bakugou stared at his left arm, now good as new. Your medicine worked miracles. He couldn’t even find a single scar on his body. You left before he could tell you ‘thank you.’ Just like that, he and Kirishima went back to the village. The moment they arrived, they were surrounded by their friends and family, asking them where they’ve been the past few weeks. It was then that he realized he never once thanked you for saving him and keeping his secret.

Since then he’s had his eyes on you. Every time he spotted you in the crowd his eyes would follow wherever you went. Whenever he went flying with Kirishima, they’d always fly over the same flowerbed to see if you were there.

Kirishima quickly caught onto the feelings of the young prince. Whenever they saw you at the flowerbed, Kirishima would lie that he’s tired and needs a rest. He’d land at the flowerbed just so Bakugou could be with you. However, despite Kirishima’s efforts, Bakugou never seem to know what to say to you. He’d try to ask what you were up to, but the words that came out of his mouth were, “Hey coward, here sniffing flowers again?”

You’d always give him the same goofy, and slightly timid smile with your signature, “Ehehe” chuckle. Kirishima would nudge Bakugou and tell him to go talk to you, but Bakugou just sat there watching you pick herbs, refusing to utter another word to you because he knew nothing good will ever come out of his mouth.

He always sees you bringing home injured little animals: birds, squirrels, rabbits, fawns. Instead of eating them like what the other people in your tribe would do, you treated their wounds and released them back into the wild. You were just so weird, weirder than that outsider Midoriya. But for some reason Bakugou can’t get his mind off of you.

Finally, it was the awaited day before the fire festival. On this day, all the sixteen year olds of the tribe will be participating in the flower exchange event. Flower exchange is the special event held the day before the fire festival for the new adults to find partners. It is also the traditional day where the young adults declare their love for one another. Of course, it is common for some people who don’t have a love interest in mind to partner up as friends, and for some people to wait for their younger significant other to turn sixteen before choosing a partner. However, for most sixteen year olds, this is the most important day of their life.

Bakugou had already planned everything out in his head. He’s going to ask you to be his partner. He practiced day and night so that he won’t accidentally call you harsh names. He swore that this would be the one day where he won’t say anything mean to you. He’ll tell you how he feels, and ask you to be his partner, his lover, the one who would forever be with him for their many lifetimes to come.

He had your favorite flower in his hand, a ghost of a smile on his face. He had watched you pick flowers for months. He had noticed how your eyes would always soften, and your lips would always curve upward when you saw this particular flower. The white rose.

Everyone else were holding such vibrant colors in their hand, red being the most common. Red roses, red salvia, tulips, violets, peonies, buttercups, you name it. He had always wondered why you were so obsessed with this plain looking flower. Your taste in flower was just as unique as your fear of heights.

Flower exchange was held at the center of the village. Every year the entire village would come to watch the youngsters exchange flowers. It can easily be deemed the most important event of the year. A swarm of girls and boys ran up to Bakugou, asking to exchange flowers with him. “FUCK OFF EXTRAS!” Bakugou growled at them as he violently searched for your silhouette in the crowd. Weird… He knew for a fact you turned sixteen this year. Heck he even saw the shitty Deku, who was invited by Mitsuki to join the tradition. He held a sunflower in his hand, and stood at the corner looking almost uncomfortable to be there. His face was a dark shade of crimson, and his legs trembled.

“Pfft! Sunflower? Who brings a sunflower to flower exchange?” Bakugou could hear a few people laugh at the young green haired teenager, and he just scoffed in agreement.

Kirishima had exchanged flowers with his childhood friend, Ashido Mina. You were still nowhere to be found.

Soon, most of the new adults were already partnered up, clearing the area. “Prince, will you be my partner?” girls kept swarming around him, and he had to push past them to find the familiar (h/c) silhouette.

That was when he saw you.

He expected you to stand there awkwardly. He expected you to be without a partner.

He didn’t expect you to show up without a flower.

You stood there kicking the pebble by your feet, a hint of sadness in the depth of your eyes. “(Y/N)-chan where’s your flower?” Mitsuki asked.

“Ehehe~” you smiled at the wife of the chief and scratched the back of your head almost guiltily. “I forgot about that.”

“Bet she knows that no one’s going to partner with her, so she just didn’t bring one,” someone laughed.

The smile never left your face, but Bakugou had a strong urge to punch them in the face. What was he going to do now? Exchange of flower symbolizes exchange of love. Did you not bring any flower because you had no love to give? Or was it true that you just forgot?

Whatever. None of that matters. He was going to give his flower to you no matter what. “(Y-”

“(Y/N)-chan. If you don’t have a flower, I’ll give you mine!” Midoriya stepped in front of you and held out his sunflower to you, pink dusting over his freckled cheeks. Bakugou froze, wide eyed.

“Izuku what about you? Aren’t you going to exchange flowers with someone?” you asked your friend.

“Well, it’s not like someone is going to partner with an outsider like me for something as important as the fire festival. This is such an important tradition to your culture, you should take it,” Midoriya placed the sunflower in your hand. “In fact I was….actually going to give it to you in the first place….”

“Psh! Outsider and loser, how fitting.”

Mitsuki shot a glare at whoever uttered those words.

You just smiled at Midoriya, and asked, “Then you wanna be partners for the fire festival?”

The white rose fell from Bakugou’s hand. At that moment it was as if the sky came crashing down on him, weighing over his shoulders, pinning him to the ground. He was the prince, the next king of the dragon tribe, yet the only person he has ever loved, asked someone else to be her partner. The people around them dove to the ground fighting for the rose that fell. Almost in an instant, the poor flower was torn to shreds, just like his heart.

He ran.

He could only run. He had to get away before he puked on site. Why…? Why? Why?! WHY?!! Why the shitty Deku?!

The necklaces clattered, and the cape on his back fluttered with the wind. His teeth were clenched and his sharp nails dug into his palm. He was furious at you, furious at Deku, but most of all he was furious at himself. Why didn’t he go up to you before Deku? Why did he run away without even attempting to ask you. He always called you a coward, but he was the true coward.

PART 2 | PART 3 |  PART 4

Also on AO3! A kudos would be greatly appreciated!

[stiltonbasket]

So. My mother just told me the story of how I broke a fever at only a few months old - I apparently caught a cold, nothing major, and it was over in about two days. I just thought that this must be a pretty scary situation for parents, even if the baby isn't in any real danger. How, do you think, Wangxian would react? I wouldn't want anything dangerous to happen to any of the tiny babies, but parents tend to overreact. This would be for the Renouncement Verse - you're a godsend!

prompt 2 @enter21: So much love for Baby Wei! Can we get some bonding time with new mom WWX and his little girl. Both the difficulties and the joy new bundles of love bring. And maybe just the extended family being majorly impressed  with WWX's skills with children. Baby Wei, Xiao-yu, baby Mianmian, just all the babies.

(brief author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

In later years, Wei Wuxian will remember his daughter’s birth as the most exhausting moment of his life. Bringing a child into the world is a painful business no matter how one goes about it, even when said child was being transported out of an empty dantian with nothing but pure magic and willpower to guide the way; the process taxed his spiritual veins so badly that they began to collapse in on themselves, and his head pounded in sheer misery like it did when he first fell into the Burial Mounds, and all the power Lan Xichen forced into his body made his dantian burn as if someone had lit a fire in it before he finally sank into the blessed oblivion of sleep.

But then someone shook him awake again, and put A-Lan into his arms, and Wei Wuxian fell desperately in love the moment he first laid eyes on her.

Now, on the second day after A-Lan’s arrival, Wei Wuxian busies himself with tracking the movement of her small chest (smaller than his palm, and so much more delicate) fluttering up and down with her soft breaths, and watching the faint sucking motions she makes with her tiny pink tongue when he puts a finger close to her cheek. She isn’t hungry yet, or at least he doesn’t think so; babies suck on everything that comes near their mouths, so he ignores the bottle of milk at his elbow and pokes her feathery little eyebrows instead.

The baby frowns and squints at him, just as he expected she would. Her dark eyes delight Wei Wuxian every time he sees them, because they are exactly like Lan Zhan’s: deep and clear and slanted at the corners like a pair of black phoenix’s wings, and her gaze is her father’s, too.

(Or at least it is until she begins to cry, at which point A-Lan reminds him a great deal more of a three-year-old Jiang Cheng.)

"Shuilan," he whispers now, scarcely aware of the physician measuring the baby's pulse at his right; they called Lan Feihui to see if the weather was responsible for A-Lan’s coughing, since she was born in the midst of an ongoing summer thunderstorm. "Don't cry, Lan-bao. I'm here, sweetheart, I'm here." 

"How many times did she eat last night?" Lan Feihui asks, from somewhere over his head. "Did you keep note, xiandu?" 

Wei Wuxian ignores that particular query, because he has no idea how often A-Lan needs to eat after he goes to bed. Lan Zhan lets him sleep the whole night through with A-Lan nestled against his side, refusing to disturb him no matter how often A-Lan wakes up, and he feeds the baby her milk every other hour as skillfully as the trained nursemaids from the healing halls.

"Three times," Lan Zhan replies, consulting a slip of paper tucked into his sleeve. "She did not object to my blood in the milk spell, so I saw no need to wake Wei Ying."

"It's a godsend, that spell," the doctor mutters, referring to the talisman Wei Wuxian constructed to transform goats’ milk into something suitable for babies to drink with the addition of a little human blood. "Do you have any plans to distribute it, Xinhua-jun?" 

Wei Wuxian finally looks away from the baby's dimpled hands and nods. "En. I couldn't sleep these last two months for worrying about how we were going to feed her, and if the spell could come in useful for another child without a mother to feed it, then…”

"You could still use it yourself," the healer reminds him gently. "Using Hanguang-jun’s blood would be safest since you’re a non-cultivator, but if you would like to use yours instead, you can." 

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. "It's better this way," he sighs. "She's so little, I—I don't want to take any chances."

The healer objects to this on the grounds that A-Lan is not little at all; she weighs nearly six jin, with a very healthy appetite, but Lan Zhan still refuses to let Wei Wuxian be the one to feed her.

"The spell requires a full shao of blood every day," he protests. "And babies need to eat so often. It will hurt you if you do it, Wei Ying."

“It won’t hurt me,” Wei Wuxian argues back, before blanching as Lan Zhan makes a cut across his hand and activates the milk talisman. “Lan Zhan!”

But it hardly matters who feeds her in the end, because A-Lan is chubby and strong and tries to eat everything that gets near her, from milk bottles to her own thumbs and Xiao-Yu's pudgy fingers, and all her parents' fears vanish when the healer finally declares that her fragile little lungs are handling the cold perfectly.

“She’s only been breathing for two days, Xinhua-jun,” is all Lan Feihui says, when Wei Wuxian gives her a sheepish apology for summoning her across the Cloud Recesses in the rain. “If she breathes in a grain of dust, she might sneeze. If the air is a touch too dry or too warm, she might cough. There is no need to worry unless her skin turns blue, but if that does happen, summon me or Zewu-jun at once.”

**

After the healer takes her leave, Wei Wuxian stares down at his daughter and covers her little face with kisses.

“Serves you right,” he scolds, when she gives him an aggrieved baby glare and sucks violently at her milk. “How could you worry me so much, A-Lan? Your A-Niang has a delicate heart, you know. You can’t scare me like this again.”

“I think I should be called A-Niang,” Lan Zhan tells him, petting Xiao-Yu’s sleepy little head. All four of them are curled up together in the marriage bed, since Xiao-Yu refused to leave his new sister, and insists on being allowed to feed her at least once or twice a day. “Did you not say once that the one with the milk was mother, and the one with gold was father?”

Wei Wuxian throws his head back and laughs. “All right,” he declares, turning so that A-Lan’s beady little eyes are fixed right on Lan Zhan’s. “Shuilan, this is your A-Niang. You can tell because you have my name—your A-Die’s name, that is—and because your A-Niang spills his own blood ten times a day so you can eat without a wet-nurse. Greet him properly, Wei-xiaojie.”

Unfortunately, Lan-bao’s idea of a greeting is spitting up onto Xiao-Yu’s robes. “Yuck!” A-Yu cries, jumping away and bursting into tears at the sight of the pale stain on his chest. “A-Lan, bad!”

And then, of course, A-Lan starts crying too. “Welcome to fatherhood, for the third time,” Wei Wuxian tells his husband, patting the tears off Xiaohui’s nose and biting back a giggle as Lan Zhan goes to find a wet cloth and a new gown for their son. “Do you think you’re ready, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Zhan looks at him across their children’s teary red faces and smiles. 

“With you, xingan? Always.”

[hazellvesque]

your wounds; my sutures

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians/The Trials of Apollo

Rating: PG

Pairing: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace

Summary: When Will Solace, Camp Half-Blood’s greatest healer, is the one who gets hurt in battle, the son of Hades has to step up to the plate and put the skills he learned in the infirmary to good use. 

Word Count: 2,572

Warnings: graphic descriptions of cuts, blood, stitches, and questionable amateur medical practice.

Read on Ao3

* * *

The second he caught sight of the gaping wound in his boyfriend’s shoulder, Nico almost blacked out. It was hard to believe Will was even still conscious with so much blood seeping out.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Will’s voice was strained, yet somehow calm, as if he hadn’t just taken a direct hit from the dangerous end of a sword. He was sitting on the ground, using his good arm to keep himself propped upright. The wound slashed across his shoulder blade, beginning just a few inches to the right of the base of his neck. The weapon had cut straight through his shirt, leaving tattered scraps of fabric as the only discretionary cover for the graphic injury. 

“Nico? Are you still with me?”

“You’re bleeding,” Nico said lamely, snapping back to reality, still not quite believing what he was seeing. 

He’d seen much worse in the past. Hell, he’d caused much worse. But this was Will Solace. He was Camp Half-Blood’s greatest healer. He wasn’t supposed to be the one who got hurt, ever. 

If Nico could, he would resurrect the monster just to kill it all over again. It deserved a punishment far worse than evaporating into golden dust, but at least the satisfaction might quell Nico’s anger a bit. He couldn’t stop staring at the wound. Fortunately, Will was faced away from him. Nico imagined the pained expression on Will’s face, how he was probably fighting to keep his lopsided, reassuring smile bright despite it all. 

“What do we do?” Nico spoke quietly, but desperately. 

The two boys were utterly exhausted. The fight had taken nearly everything out of them. Will’s own healing abilities couldn’t possibly work well right now - he was so weak he could hardly sit upright on his own. Nico thought of shadow traveling to Camp or even to the nearest hospital; he’d have to do some quick thinking to explain the situation to a mortal doctor, but the idea was quickly shut down by the black fuzziness already creeping into the corners of his vision. He probably wouldn’t be able to move himself ten feet without passing out. 

They’d have to solve this the old-fashioned way. 

Will gestured with his head towards his bag. It lay a few feet away, discarded early in the fight and no doubt now containing a few broken supplies and squished ambrosia squares.

“Grab some supplies for me? I don’t want to move too much and make it worse.” Will said, his breathing labored. “You’re going to have to help me clean and close it up.”

“Right.” Nico nodded a little too fast, hardly processing Will’s words at all. 

Nico dashed over to Will’s backpack and tore it open. In moments, the grass was strewn with miscellaneous bandages, ice packs, and burn creams that would be utterly useless in helping solve the problem at hand. He searched for the vial of nectar he knew should be there, and swore under his breath when he found it shattered, the pieces of broken glass nicking his fingertips and the golden liquid seeping into the canvas fabric, causing an utterly useless sticky mess. Reaching further, Nico pulled out everything he thought would be useful - gloves, cloth, peroxide, and the small suture kit box at the very bottom of the bag. 

He rushed back to Will’s side, fighting the wave of nausea that hit him, both from sight of the cut and from standing up too fast. He quickly pulled on the latex gloves, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible. 

“You remember the first step in treating a wound?” Will asked.

“I have to clean it. And apply pressure to stop the bleeding,” Nico recited mechanically. Then he paused, head tilted, mouth scrunched in annoyance. “I can’t believe you’re turning this into a medical lesson.”

“Never a bad time to brush you up on your basic skills.” 

“This is anything but basic.” Nico’s hands trembled so hard that he nearly dropped the tools in his hands. “I can’t really see the whole thing. I’m going to have to-“ he gulped, silently chiding himself for how stupid he felt for asking, “-to take off your shirt. Cut it off, I mean. To get to the, uh...” 

Even through what must have been some of the worst physical pain of his life, Will chuckled. “If you want to prevent me from bleeding out, then yes, unfortunately, you’re going to have to see me shirtless. Did you grab the scissors?” 

“No,” Will’s shirt was already torn nearly to shreds, and precious time was slipping away. Biting back his mortification, Nico took hold of the already torn collar of Will’s orange camp shirt and ripped straight down, letting the cotton fibers fall apart in his hands. He quickly tore in two other places, removing the blood-stained fabric entirely. 

Any embarrassing implication of his actions was immediately shut down by the now clearer sight of the dark red stickiness quickly streaking down the right side of Will’s body.  

“Talk to me, Nico, what’s going on?”

Nico half-consciously began soaking the cloth in peroxide. “Isn’t this going to sting?” 

“Like hell,” Will made a hmph sound under his breath, then he laughed, “I know it was super common back in your day to do this-”

“I’m going to forgive you for that because you’re hurt right now.” 

“But peroxide on deep wounds can do more harm than good, so really, this is a last resort, since we don’t have any nectar. Even just clean water or soap would be better, but that doesn’t matter now. Just…don’t use a lot, just enough to make sure nothing gets infected. Give me something to hold on to?” 

With his right hand, Nico held the folded, peroxide-soaked rag precariously close to Will’s injured shoulder. His left hand silently slipped into Will’s and squeezed tight. “Do you want me to tell you when?”

“No, just go for it.” 

He went for it. 

Three of Nico’s senses sparked to life all at once: the sound of Will biting back a scream ringing in his ears, the gruesome sight of the cut bubbling from the peroxide chemicals burned into his eyes, and the feeling of all of the bones in his left hand being crushed by Will’s iron grip as he squeezed in desperation from the pain. 

“I’m sorry!” Nico cried. He twisted the already red-soaked cloth in his hand so that he could use the clean side to put more pressure on the cut. He could feel the heat radiating off Will’s body, which sent an odd shiver down his spine. 

“Don’t be,” Will said, though the tone of his voice would suggest otherwise. “You’re doing everything right. You should be more sorry about the stitches you’re going to have to put in.”

If he hadn’t been so focused on stopping the bleeding, Nico’s arms would have dropped uselessly to his sides in shock. Instead, he let his jaw do the dropping. “The what I’m going to have to put where? Will, I can’t-“ 

“If I can pull a baby out of a cloud nymph, you can learn how to properly stitch someone up.” Will hissed through gritted teeth. 

“But-”

“I can’t be the only one reattaching limbs at Camp, I need help sometimes so you may as well get practice now.”

“I’m not exactly the best at healing people. Quite the opposite, actually.” 

“I’ll talk you through it,” Will squeezed Nico’s hand, which Nico hadn’t realized he was still holding. “If it were practically anywhere else on my body I would just do it myself, but I got hit in the worst possible spot.”

Nico dropped the bloody cloth and sat back on his heels, dumbfounded. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t,” Will reassured him. “I promise. I trust you.” 

The bold statement made Nico flush, his heart rate increasing even more, though by now he thought that would have been impossible. With his new determination, he opened the small box from Will’s bag. Inside lay a small, curved needle already threaded with a thin black cord, two differently shaped pairs of what looked like fancy tweezers, a small pair of scissors, and a tiny blade Nico hoped he wouldn’t have to use. 

“How do I do this?” Nico steeled himself, swallowing down his doubts. 

Will quickly explained the basic process: Nico would need to use both of the “tweezers” - one of which was actually a needle holder - simultaneously. One would be used to hold the skin in place and the other, as the name suggested, was to push the needle through. Then, he’d have to tie off the thread like a knot and cut off any excess. Rinse and repeat all the way up, until hopefully the cut would be closed well enough to not reopen on the way to get professional care. 

Nico delicately traced his gloved hand across the bottom of the cut, right where he’d need to start stitching. The bleeding had subsided, but Will’s skin was still too warm and bright red. 

He got to work right away. 

The first stitch was the most difficult. Nico had wielded swords as long as he was tall, but the intimidation of putting a tiny, intentional hole in someone was somehow worse. His hands trembled as he pushed the needle through one side, out the other, and knotted the thread tight. 

“Does that hurt?” Nico asked timidly. 

Will hesitated before answering: “Not as much as getting myself slashed open in the first place.” 

Glad to see he still had a sense of humor, despite it all. 

Nico continued his diligent work, taking about a minute to complete each tiny stitch. He’d probably need to do about 20 more to get the wound closed entirely. 

“This...reminds me,” Will said, his voice sounding far-away and dreamy. Whether it was blissful reminiscing or exhaustion, it was difficult to tell. “Of Manhattan. And Annabeth.”

“What about Annabeth?” 

Will was rambling now, taking his mind off the pain in the only way he could. “She was hit in the same place. Protecting Percy. During the battle against Kronos. I was the one who healed her back then. We were all looking for my brother Michael when Percy dragged me out of the search party and said he needed a healer. He was really freaked out, it was kind of scary to be honest. I’m pretty sure that was the first time anyone outside of my own cabin even acknowledged my existence,” Will took a deep breath, and after a heavy pause, he muttered, “I was made head counselor as soon as the battle was over.”

With all the losses they’d faced over the last few years, it was sadly almost too easy for Nico to forget that Will had lost at least four of his siblings during the Battle of Manhattan. Everyone coped with trauma and loss differently, but you wouldn’t look at Will Solace and think that he was hurting. Then again, Will’s optimism and willingness to constantly help others may very well have been a way to disguise that hurt. He hadn’t been able to help the people he’d lost. 

Nico had been about to express his condolences when Will asked, “Where were you during all of that?”

“Convincing my dad to let me borrow his dead army,” Nico laughed humorlessly, the memory rushing back to him. “And helping protect Percy’s parents.”

Will’s head tilted. “What were Percy’s parents doing on the battlefield?” 

“Sally Jackson is a powerhouse of a woman and will stop at nothing, not even a Titan. Plus, I felt like I kind of owed it to Percy after...everything I’d done.” 

Will made a humming sound, as if to say that’s fair. Over the past few months, Nico had opened up more about his early years at Camp Half-Blood. Even now, he felt a pang of regret for how he used to behave towards the people who were only trying to help him. Will didn’t know all of the details, of course, but he knew enough to understand. 

“I remember seeing you out there,” Nico continued, his voice a whisper. “We hadn’t even spoken before, but I knew who you were.”

Will responded just as quietly. “I knew you, too.” 

Not in the ‘I’d heard the whispers about the reclusive son of Hades’ way, or the ‘I knew about the boy who had lost his sister’ way. No; he’d said it like a confession. 

“You-,” Nico swallowed hard, “you did?”

“You kind of fascinated me,” Will murmured. “Can you believe it only took me another year to actually speak to you?”

Nico felt his heart jolt in his chest. Why hadn’t he known this before? If he knew any better, he’d think Will was only confessing this now because of his delirium. Or maybe he’d wanted to admit it for a long time. Nico knew exactly how that felt. 

“And you initiated conversation by asking me to touch your hands that had just birthed a baby. Real smooth, Solace. No wonder I liked you so much.” 

With that, Nico tied off the final suture, cut the excess thread, and carefully placed the tools back in the box. 

“I think...I think it’s done?” Nico exhaled, finally letting his hands tremble freely, begging for the pent up anxiety to somehow release through his fingertips. 

Slowly, carefully, Will reached back behind his head with his left arm, tracing his hand across the delicate stitches, checking for error. Nico stared intensely, only just now taking the time to notice the details of his own work. It was nowhere near perfect. Hardly satisfactory, even. His handiwork was messy, uneven. But it would keep the wound from reopening at least until they got back to Camp. 

“Not bad for a trainee,” Will said finally, dropping his hand and turning to face Nico. “Thank you. Really. You know I never would have asked you to do this if-”

“Don’t apologize,” Nico cut him off. “I’d do it again. In a heartbeat. I...” 

Nico frowned, his brain finally catching up to the scene in front of him. Without the distractions of the blood and sharp objects, the sight of Will Solace shirtless suddenly brought a rush of warmth to his cheeks. He unconsciously leaned back, all too aware of how close they were sitting, but that undeniable tense energy still radiated between them. Speaking of heartbeats…

“How were you so calm through all of this?” Nico asked. 

“Because I had to be. I always do,” Will shrugged without thinking, then winced from the pain. “All in a day’s work, you know? Someone’s got to step up when there’s an emergency.”

“That someone shouldn’t always have to be you.”

“No. You’re right. It shouldn’t,” Will said softly, his gentle eyes locking with Nico’s. 

It wasn’t meant to be a cruel comment, but Nico felt the weight of the words press down on him. He didn’t have the time to come up with a retort before Will spoke again: “Maybe we both have a thing or two to learn about helping others. Or helping ourselves.” 

Will reached out and took Nico’s hand. 

“You’re still shaking,” Will said. “You don’t have to be nervous, you did a good job.”

Nico felt his face grow hot. He stared down at their intertwined hands, then back up into Will’s eyes. 

“That’s not why I’m nervous,” he said. 

[mommymooze]

Lack of Vision

Reader x Black Eagles

The smell of ancient vellum, leather, ink, paper and polished wood fills your nose before you enter the room. Some of the students have begun to clear out having finished the bookwork assigned by their professors. You prefer the library to be nearly void of others, their whispered conversations disturbing your concentration and you can feel their eyes upon you as they watch you reading and looking for the proper materials for class. You come from a well-respected family in the Empire, not a noble, however your family works with them and high level healers and mages.

None of that matters here at Garreg Mach. Teenagers are cruel creatures, judging everyone by their superficial standards. The more aesthetically appealing, the higher the regard given to the student. You are nearly invisible to most of the students, nothing of importance about you. There are thick eyeglasses on your face that warps your appearance into something strange and difficult to look at. You attract no attention, nor do you draw attention to yourself. The only person that notices you for any reason is Hubert. He took interest in you for a short period of time to confirm that you are no danger to his Lady, once cleared he ignores you like the rest.

The Professor is extremely hesitant to allow you to accompany the group into any battle. Your primary focus is Faith magic and healing, however you do cast reason spells. Targeting enemies at a distance is, extremely difficult for you. As far as healing, Linhardt keeps his fellow students alive long enough for the group to make it back to the monastery, Dorothea being his backup. When the student is brought back to the infirmary, that is where your magic becomes the most useful. Your healing skills quickly rival Manuela. Not being distracted by sparring, fighting and traipsing around the campus flirting, fighting or pranking like most of the students, you immerse yourself completely into your studies.

You constantly write home requesting additional and more advanced healing tomes and books about magical theory. Even Professor Hanneman is jealous of some of the people you correspond with regularly, discussing points of rune manipulation and theory. Professor Byleth is surprised that you pass the Gremory test before the ball. You would be upset if you had not passed, perfecting your magic skill is your obsession.

Eyeglasses are the worst in every weather. They fog in winter, get drippy with spring rain. Summer they slip and slide from sweat. Fall it is back to rain. At the academy, there is just enough space between the buildings that your glasses quickly get acclimated to the cooler temperature outside, then as soon as you step inside, they fog up immediately, rendering them useless. Useless for you means near blindness. You can tell that things moving around are other people. There is no depth perception, stairs are terrifying. As soon as you make your way inside a building you seek a wall to put your back against as you wait for the fog to clear.

Once Ferdinand had found you just inside the building containing the library. He grabbed your hand and started to drag you to the stairs. You had to stop and explain to him why you were so intimidated and refused to go with him.

He should offer his arm so that you can hold on and if anything bothers you or you do not feel comfortable you could let go and keep your balance and composure. He then starts to march forward at his normal pace, which is great if you are tall and long legged such as he is, however your height is more in the category of Edelgard’s and you would have to nearly run to keep up with him.

“Pretend you are carrying a teacup filled to the brim with hot tea. How quickly would you move with that in your hand? Do you want to spill it all over yourself and possibly burn your hand?” You ask.

“Goodness no!” Ferdinand responds. “What a terrible waste of tea!” Ferdinand thusly takes his time and you arrive at the library unscathed.

Time passes, Emperor Edelgard declares war. You join her side without hesitation. The church is indeed corrupt. The noble system is useless and only sustains power to those that should never have been entrusted to it in the first place. The Emperor also announces the Black Eagle Strike Force. Not long after this announcement you approach her, Hubert always alongside of his liege.

You reach forward placing a handful of necklaces with a Black Eagle medallion on them. “I wish to distribute these to the members of the Strike Force with your permission.”

Hubert immediately notices that the necklaces are enchanted. “What is this?” He demands an answer.

“As you know, my sight distance is limited. This will expand my abilities greatly. Should someone undergo severe injuries or become surrounded by enemies I can remove them from the situation or cast physic on them. It does not have to be visible on their person, they can wear it under their armor.” You answer.

“How do you know one from another?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Once everyone has worn them for a few days I will be able to tell the difference, who has which necklace and once in battle I will have no issue identifying the correct person to assist.”

“Hmmm.” Hubert is hesitant to agree.

“I think it is a wonderful idea. We have a long difficult road ahead of us. If it provides the opportunity to save an ally, I cannot see how this would be an issue.” Emperor Edelgard smiles.

Leaving a necklace for the two on the table, you seek out the remainder of the Strike Force handing them their necklaces, giving them instructions to try to wear it at all times, always wearing it during a battle. You then find Linhardt and discuss the intricacies of the spell with him. He is quite impressed, not impressed enough with needing to learn anything further, lest it cause him more missed naps.

Unfortunately, you are not able to give Professor Byleth theirs before the attack on Garreg Mach.

Without being amid the battle itself, you greatly aid your allies. Two clerics with minor healing skills and perfect eyes describe the battle as it unfolds. They both speak at the same time describing everything they see. You have been training them for weeks. They keep you appraised of nearly everyone on the battlefield. You cast physic and fortify on several allies, healing them, allowing them to keep fighting. Nobody must be rescued as a result, however it is always an option.

The weary warriors return to camp, the injured head to the infirmary. Once you heal all wounded there, you quietly make your way around camp. Stopping at the entrance to a tent you announce yourself.

“You are injured. Let me attend you.” You whisper to the canvas entrance flap.

“I have seen too much blood today. Let me sleep.” Linhardt moans.

You enter the tent, shuffling forward until you touch his cot. “You’ll sleep better if you are healed. Assist me if you want this completed quickly. Fight if you want this to take longer.”

“Very well.” The sleepy man turns on his side, tugging at his robes to show his right leg and the gash in his calf.

You need little light to work, most of what you do is by touch. Cleansing the wound, folding and refolding the cloth to have the clean portion removing the debris and dried blood. Healing the wound, finally rubbing the scar with light soft touches of magic until nothing is left but smooth and slightly pink skin.

You leave, heading for the next tent. It is easy to tell who is injured. Sometimes the smell of blood alerts you. Whimpers of pain, cursing, stuttered breathing, all of them involuntary tells that they are hiding their wounds. No amount of chastising them has worked thus far. You must seek them out and find them before they fall face first in the dirt, fevers burning because of infection that quickly settles in their neglected wounds.

You can tell this tent belongs to Ferdinand. He makes the smallest high pitched squeak when he moves an injured muscle the wrong way.

“Ferdie, I’m coming in.” You give him ten seconds before you enter.

“S-Sorry. I should’ve…” The redhead begins to apologize.

“Shh. Guide me to the worst first.” You instruct him. You’ve been through this many times before. You recall back at the monastery you would drag him back to the infirmary after returning from battles. He would then invite you to tea and tell you about everything that happened. He would frequently let slip about a few people that had been hurt, and those you had not seen in the infirmary would be sought out later.

His hip had a deep gouge in it from the point of a sharp lance. You wonder how me made it back to the tent with something that deep, the blood had dripped all down his leg. You cleanse it, pouring some healing potion in to soften the burn as you prepare him for the alcohol to follow, flushing out the debris and who knows what that was on the enemy lance tip. Finally, you heal the wound closed now that you are certain it will not become infected. He tells you the next injury is to his shoulder.

Completing your treatment of each and every one of his wounds you get back on your feet. “Tell me what you find in the morning. The worst infections can come from the smallest cuts.”

“I know, thank you.” He calls out to the darkness of his tent.

You know whose tent is next. You stand outside, pausing. “Don’t blast me into next week. I must do what is necessary.” You announce before entering.

“Your concern is unnecessary.” He fumes.

“You prefer necrosis?” You sass.

“To be looked after –ugh.” Hubert groans.

“Better than dead. I’m going to be here a while, aren’t I?” You kneel in front of his cot, smelling blood everywhere. You know he has a high threshold for pain but this man is ridiculous. He is a human pincushion filled with so many holes he should be classified as swiss cheese.

You begin by placing him under a magically induced sleep. This slows his heart rate, making him bleed out slower. Lighting several candles in the room you need to pick apart this man, healing every possible wound new or old, removing all signs of infection.

He cares so little for himself it is a miracle that he can remain standing on his own feet most days. Tweezers and a scalpel assist you with removing four pieces of shrapnel from his back. Two fractured ribs are also healed. His legs are battered by the fallout of spells attacking him. He can deflect them from his head and torso, however he is so tall that his legs still feel some of the impact of magic and what it carries with it. One last scan for any further untreated injuries makes you sigh in relief. You pull back on the sleep spell a bit. He remains asleep, allowing him to rest, however he should not be so deep in sleep as to not be able to be rustled awake.

Sitting on the ground in front of his cot, you rest and meditate until morning. You will not leave him unprotected. Once he begins to rustle several hours later, you stand and face the exit to the tent.

“I would ask if I missed anything, but you will never tell me if I did.” You state matter-of-factly.

“Thank you.” He mutters softly.

You nod and leave.

Camp is broken down. Everything is packed into wagons or on the back of horses. Enbarr is the next destination. Back to the capital to plan.

Most of the fights for the next few years are smaller skirmishes. The larger battles are much fewer and further between. However, this current battle is quite serious. The Empire has had control over the bridge at Myrddin since the Emperor declared war. There is word of kingdom forces approaching, threatening the bridge and surrounding territory. The entire Strike Force is called together to interfere with the invasion.

You have the bridge map memorized. The strategic meetings provide you with the locations of where everyone is to be deployed and defending their area. Your assistants inform you of the fighting and position changes as the battle unfolds. They update you as the enemy moves forward beginning their attacks. Suddenly the watcher to the right is quickly rambling, upset and excited.

“What! Tell me what is going on!” You order, having no idea what is happening due to their rambling.

“They are swarming, trying to get past Caspar and Ferdinand, many are getting through and overwhelming Hubert. He’s moving back but…”

Immediately you cast Physic at Hubert then Caspar.

“I can’t see Hubert there are so many around him!” the observer is shaking moving left to right to see.

You cannot let him fall. You cast warp and appear standing alongside his fallen body. There are a few surprised utterances by the soldiers, however they are quickly gathering their wits about them. They are not as fast as you are, you throw a series of spells. The first is your Thoron. You cannot see well enough to cast it as a normal Thoron, your modified version is closer to clusters of ball lightning emitting from around you, arcing out in a rotating pattern. You lean over Hubert, who is still alive from what you can feel. The soldiers swarming him are very very much at risk and feeling your wrath. Their bodies jolt and shake with the electricity. Just as the spell ends you cast recover on Hubert.

“Muh…more coming!�� The dark mage blurts out, casting Mire at the closest one.

You call upon the hellfire from within you, casting your own special Ragnarock. The smell is horrific as all flesh in a huge circle around you is incinerated in the heat of the flames that extends around you for a 30 foot radius.

“What next?” You ask the dark mage on the ground beneath you.

“You were successful.” Hubert says as he takes your hand to assist him in getting back onto his feet.

Hubert begins to walk briskly towards the next sign of melee. You grab his elbow and are dragged along.

“Are you certain you wish to do this?” The dark mage asks.

“I’ve made it so far.” You counter, scared and excited at the same time as you are headed for the center of the battlefield.

There are a lot more sounds around you than normal. Spells going off, horses rushing in at the direction of their riders, the clashing of metal against metal. You keep turning your head at every sound. You hear the sound of boots coming closer, you cannot clearly make out a face, but the colors donned by the fighter are of the enemy, so you cast a normal Thoron spell at him. Hubert calls out and you direct your attention to him.

“Heal Ferdinand!” He orders.

You lock on the cavalier and cast Physic. A hearty Yes! is heard not too far away as you continue to be aware of your immediate surroundings.

Hubert dashes away from you, headed further toward the center of battle. You know better than to run into the thickest part of things where your clear vision extends not more than six feet ahead of you. A green coated figure comes close and you grab onto the arm of Linhardt as he walks past.

“Everyone good?” You ask as he is dragging you along with him.

“So far. I am glad this is almost over. I am so exhausted.” He groans.

You listen as the noise dies down, the sounds of spells being cast has ended. The voices are calling out more organizational orders than directing the forces to attack. Linhardt takes you to the area where they have set up camp, pointing you into the direction of the infirmary tent before he gets close enough to be dragged inside. A healer outside notices you and hauls you in, you are needed to put a few soldiers back together. Much later, as you emerge from the tent you are grabbed and warped away.

“Sit.” You are pushed backward until your calves hit a surface for you to sit upon. He stands in front of you, arms crossed.

“I know. It is a risk I had to take. You are too stubborn and so am I.” You confess before you are asked a question.

“Do you have any idea what-“ Hubert’s voice is full of venom and anger.

“Yes, I do. More than you. I did not join this war to do anything halfway.” You calmly answer. You know his bark is worse than his bite. And if he wanted to harm you, he would kill you first and ask questions later.

The dark mage turns to step away, then spins around to face you again. “And what of after the war?”

“I have no vision of what is beyond anything that I can see right now. I have bound myself to you through a blood oath that you did not participate in, so that I could help you live through this war.” You respond, quiet and rational. “You are not committed to me and owe me nothing. I knew you would not wear the necklace. I did what is necessary to keep you alive. We cannot win this without you. It is not like I will ever have a suitor clamoring at my door.”

Hubert is furious. You knew he would be. Based on ancient customs and rituals in several countries, one of them Brigid you created the spell. There is an exchange of blood between wedded parties, mixing their blood so the two could ‘become one’. However further research into the matter reveals that as a part of one’s self being with the other could be extremely useful, especially relating to magic spells to locate the other and/or to assist them.

The moment you warped to Hubert’s side, he knew what had occurred. You knew he would treat it as a betrayal of his trust in you, however this being a ‘one way’ blood passing would not bind him to you in any way. A complete exchange blood oath on his part would sever this one sided oath and cause a magical backlash to yourself. Since you had initiated this blood oath, you cannot perform this with another.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “What is done is done. Leave.” He orders.

The tents and supplies are packed away again, the long convoy is back on the road. The anniversary of the millennium festival approaches quickly. The weather has turned quite miserable, raining day and night. The roads are getting sloppier every day. Riding in the back of the supply wagon is dangerous for you, but you feel it is worse it is worse as you cannot tell where you are stepping. Just as someone announces they can see Garreg Mach in the distance, the wagon you are riding in flips onto its side due to the deep ruts in the roadway and shifting of the cargo. You are buried under multiple boxes and cargo from the wagon.

When you awaken you are dry and clean and lying on a cot in the infirmary of the academy. You sit up in the bed and recall what happened. Your left arm is wrapped up to your shoulder. You feel a bump on your head. What you don’t feel, is your glasses.

“Cleric?” You call out. You know someone was in the room with you, you had heard them with papers.

“Oh! You are awake. I will fetch Manuela.” You hear her footsteps getting further and further away down the hall.

Manuela arrives and explains the situation. Your left arm will have to be in a sling for a few days. Your glasses were crushed under the wagon. A message was written and sent today requesting a replacement pair, nothing we can do for that in the meantime. She fits you with a sling and at your insistence you walk from the infirmary down to the first floor. Alone.

You were able to slowly make it to the end of the corridor that led to a courtyard. From there you only have to cross the courtyard, find the stairs down and then the dorms in order to get to your room. Piece of cake you think to yourself. You know the layout of the monastery, where the obvious dangers are. It’s just the minor details that you can’t see. If someone leaves items out where they don’t belong or an item is in an unusual spot, that could be a problem for you.

The open courtyard is intimidating, people can come at you from all angles, and they do. You do not get run over, but you get spooked when a large something crosses your vision suddenly. You feel better when you get to the area that has bushes all along one side. You stay close to the bushes, keeping out of the way of the faster people.

Now is the dangerous part. The stone walkway in front of you, and the stairs that go down to the dorms. You must choose embarrassment or death. You choose to not die today. Sitting on the ground you scooch your behind closer and closer to where you think the edge of this level is until your feet reach the end of the stone covered walkway. You scoot until your lower legs are over the wall and feet are hanging. From here you scoot right until your feet touch the stairs leading down.

Whew. Now you can stand on the steps, hold on with your hands on the level above as you cautiously descend down the stairs. One step at a time. Your hands are now flat on the wall above the stairs. One last step and there’s no further steps. You made it! Nobody saw you or if they did they said nothing and you lived!

Cautiously you walk across the small courtyard until you knock into the porches of the dorms. You grab a post, sit on the porch, spin your legs and then stand up next to the post. No stairs, no problem you think.

You are at the last room, that belongs to Byleth. You knock.

“Come in.” Is pleasantly called from the inside.

“Byleth, can you give me a hand and get me to my room. I’ve been released by Manuela.” You request.

The former Professor walks past you, stopping so you can take her elbow. “I am happy that you are out already and didn’t have any serious injuries. Your eyeglasses were smashed beyond fixing. Are you going to be okay getting around on your own? She inquires.

“I can make it here and there. I have problems with stairs, anything that is left out of place, cats and dogs being on the paths. I perhaps should get a walking stick to help with balance. I can see a little, everything is just very very blurry. While you may see a barrel, its edges, the lines of the wood, the metal band holding it together, I see a brown almost oval blob. I can judge by the size of the blob if I am close enough to bump into it.

Byleth leads you out the door, pausing at the stairs, then through the courtyard to the next set of stairs, finally over to your room that is next to Bernadetta’s. Thanking her you go through your room, arranging your clothes and belongings. You are always quite organized in your room. Everything must be in its place or you can’t find it. You go to your desk drawer and pull out your magnifying glass. If you have plenty of light you can just make out a few letters in a row on a written page. So you can read, but it’s going to give you eye strain. You decide that maybe it’s time to do some handiwork. Heading out the door you walk to your neighbor and knock on hers.

“Bernie, can we talk a minute?” You ask pleasantly.

Bernadetta cracks her door open then shuts it quickly. “Who is it!”

“Bernie, it’s me. I don’t have my glasses, so I guess I must look different?” you question as you answer her.

“Oh! You do look much different without your glasses on.” The purple haired woman opens the door, now recognizing you, she lets you inside leading you to a chair by her desk.

“I heard they were broken when the wagon tipped over. How are you doing? I bet Bernie can help you some.” She smiles.

“Oh Bernie, that would be wonderful if you can walk with me sometimes. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone. I know you don’t like getting out much, but I do need to get to the dining hall. Honestly, the stairs scare me a lot!” You confess.

“Oh! I think they would be scary to someone that can’t see them. I will help you. Just let me know, okay?” Bernadetta offers.

“You have perfect vision, I trust you so much Bernie. Oh! I came over because I have a request. Since I can’t read much right now, I thought I would knit. Can I borrow a couple pair of needles you’re not using right now?” You request.

“Sure! I have quite a few different sizes, so you have a few to choose from.” The woman dashes to a drawer to grab her needles.

You are sitting on a bench outside the greenhouse knitting, a small rectangle grows longer below the needles.

Without turning you call out, “Hey Ferdinand, are you busy?”

“I did not see you there. You are looking quite well. Are you getting along all right? May I be of assistance in any way?” He happily answers, being the noblest of nobles, he must offer his assistance to all that could possibly require it.

“If you would have some time to escort me to the market briefly in the next few days, I would like to purchase some yarn.” You request.

Ferdinand bows low, “Of course, I would be most happy to assist. I do have somewhere I have to be, however I will return for you before dinner. I will then escort you to your room to store your purchase, and then take you to the dining hall as well. It is my duty to help all in need of aid. Please do let me know if there is anything else that I can assist you with.” He smiles brightly, you know because you can hear it in his voice. If a smile was ever loud, it would be his.

Time passes and Ferdinand returns to greet you again. “I am yours to command.” He says bowing before you.

“If you could please take me to the market and find the one selling wool and other knitting materials.” You say grabbing his elbow as he leads you past the pond.

“How are you getting along without your glasses? I see you are keeping busy.” He asks as you slowly stroll.

“I am doing fine. It’s not like I’ve suddenly lost my vision altogether. I simply cannot see clearly at the moment. The finer details are not visible. A basket of apples is varying shades of red in a brown circle. Grass is simply mottled green with no individual blades. Stairs do not show their depth, the ground does not reveal its pitch. If small thin items are on the footpath I cannot see them. Reading is difficult without a magnifying glass, and that gets tiresome after a while. I could not see very far away before, so nothing has changed there.” You reflect.

“Here we are.” Ferdinand brings you forward to the cart.

“Sir,” you ask the proprietor, “Have you any lambs wool or perhaps Angora?”

The man hands you two skeins of wool, one being a bit softer than the next. You feel some of the wool that he has on display. These two skeins are softer, but not by much, certainly not Angora wool.

“I have a project in mind for the Emperor you see…” You don’t care much for name dropping, however in this case, it is the absolute truth.

“Oh.” The merchant gasps. “I think this may be more in line with what you are looking for.” He takes the other two balls of yarn and replaces it with a different one.

This skein feels very silky and soft. There are long, soft hairs mixed in with the wool, which is much closer to the feel of the yarn you desire. “This is more like what I will need.” You answer. Haggling the price a bit you make your purchase. You also buy 8 other skeins of wool in different colors. And several pairs of knitting needles.

The merchant packages your goods and hands them to Ferdinand.

“Anything else?” the noble asks as he walks you back towards the dining hall.

“Thank you so much, it went much faster than me wandering from cart to cart, trying to identify what the merchant is selling.”

The next week you take your shifts in the infirmary, go to meetings and knit in your spare time. Bernadetta attends the meetings regularly, since she must escort you.

Guardian Moon is extremely cold to those from Enbarr. People from the Kingdom would probably walk about in their shirtsleeves. You invite Emperor Edelgard to tea in your room this day and she accepts.

You bustle about your room, gathering everything necessary for a lovely tea. The bergamot is steeping, smelling wonderful as she knocks.

“Please come in, Lady Edelgard.” You answer.

“You are as bad as Hubert! Just Edelgard, please!” She laughs.

“Please help yourself.” You offer sweet pastries with a delicious cinnamon crumble on top.

You fuss with the tea, removing the leaves now that the brew is complete. You pour for the both of you and offer sugar cubes or honey.

There is a knock on the door, “Package!” is called out in a male voice.

You are so excited you nearly knock over the tea table. You dive to the door and take the box from the delivery person, throwing coins at them and slamming the door.

You return to the table and hand it to Edelgard.

“Please open it for me. My new glasses!” You are beside yourself with excitement.

She laughs as she is handed the package and quickly removes the wrapping. Sliding the lid of the box open, she hands the box to you.

Your hands shake a little as you reach inside, taking the glasses in hand at the edge of the lenses, flipping the temples out, you slide them onto your face. You will have to adjust things a bit for the fit, but they feel like home.

“Well, how are they?” Edelgard excitedly asks.

“Perfect! You look even more beautiful than I remember you!” You grin widely, so happy to be able to see her clearly again.

“It is a shame that you have to wear them.” Edelgard comments. “They really distort your eyes. Perhaps some day they can create some type of magic to correct your eyesight.”

“Thankfully, I am not vain. I choose being ugly and able to see rather than be blind and pretty. As Dorothea says, beauty is only skin deep. It is the true beauty of the person inside that counts.”

“So true.” Edelgard nods.

You stand and scuttle over to a dresser. “I have something for you!” Reaching inside you remove a long red fluffy scarf. “It is getting colder outside, my hands need to keep busy. I made a scarf for everyone on the Strike Force.” You announce, handing her the scarf.

Edelgard takes it in hand and wraps it around her neck. “Oh my! This is the softest thing I have ever felt! It is so warm! I can feel my neck is warmer already!” She exclaims, then stands to give you a warm soft hug.

“We certainly need to keep warm through the next few battles.” You nod.

“Your perseverance is your strongest attribute.” Edelgard commends you. “We need people with that on our side. To engage the obstacles head on, finding new and different ways to get around them. I admire your strength in continuing to do your best, no matter what adversity is thrown your way. Knowing you makes me a stronger person.”

[mintdrop]

Meet Nanami. A shy, selectively mute “witch” who spends most of her time tending to plants and making herbal medicines. She has a fascination with the ocean and occasionally daydreams about what it would be like to explore the waters. More info under the cut!

Basic Info

Real Name: Nanami Nami Age: 26 as of SHB Race: Dunesfolk Lalafell Sexuality: Bisexual Guardian Deity: Nophica, the Matron Main classes: WHM, SMN (purely for her familiar) DOL/DOH: BTN, ALC, a dream of being FSH Voice Claim: Nao Tōyama (Reina Prowler in Macross Delta, Chitose from Nisekoi, Lyria from Granblue Fantasy)

Personality

MBTI: ISFP Enneagram: Type 9 Wing 1 (The Dreamer) Temperament: Phlegmatic Alignment: Neutral Good

Nanami is soft; marshmallow soft. Introverted to the nth degree, she has no real experience in dealing with other people outside of those who have run a select few shops that she's patroned for years - and even then, she can't meet their eyes. She suffers from selective mutism, meaning words are few and far between in regards to anyone but herself for the most part. However, with enough time and trust, it's possible that you might hear an answer or two rather than see it with your eyes.

Because she knows that she can't function through life (alone or otherwise) without "speaking", Nanami is able to combine her magic with her aether to speak by drawing or writing in the air - she often chooses drawing, as it allows for quicker responses.

When observed from afar, Nanami's true character can be seen; gentle, and extremely caring of those around her. She handles plants and flowers as though they're her family, and more often than not will she end up somewhat red-eyed and sniffly when using a plant for herbal medicines.

Backstory

An orphan from birth, Nanami has lived her life in self-inflicted isolation. The other children of the orphanage were never very kind to her, given that she couldn't speak, was more interested in the weeds growing from the ground than the game they were playing, and often felt sick when in the sun. Of course, children can be cruel, and it would be a lie to say if she wasn't bullied because of it; this only led her to isolate herself more in the long run.

It was discovered at a young age that she was proficient in white magics, and thus spent a long amount of time training under E-Sumi-Yan to hone her skills; thanks to this, he is one of few people who Nanami is able to speak to normally, though only when nobody else is around. She now uses these magics in conjuncture with her "witch magic" to produce various potions and medicines to sell for income.

Nanami lives far within the woods of the Black Shroud, in a small cottage that she had built by herself. When adventurers, wounded or otherwise, would come seeking shelter and aid, she would offer it under few conditions; one, that they understand she would only be around them to administer care and meals. Two, that before they left, they repair a part of her cottage that was in disarray, as her own craftsmanship was fairly shoddy. Thanks to this, her cottage is much more stable than when it had been made.

Stats

Strength: 3/10 Offense:  5/10 Defense: 7/10 Speed:  4/10 Durability: 6/10 Accuracy: 5/10 Agility: 4/10 Stamina: 3/10 Teamwork: 9/10 Stealth: 2/10 Magic: 10/10 Healing: 10/10

Nanami is a healer in all forms of the word; from healing magics to shielding magics, and even homemade potions, she functions as a pure supportive role in the heat of battle. Of course, she'd very much prefer not to fight at all if possible, but she's well aware that that simply isn't the case in this world.

Because she often gets uncomfortable in the sun, Nanami is never found without a massively large hat to mitigate the effects - leading to a hard drop in combative accuracy, as the rim of the hat will often block the far off view. Her close combat skills are basically nonexistent, which can sometimes lead to her being more of a liability if she's unable to protect herself in time. To say she fears these scenarios more than death would be an understatement.

Other headcanons

Could probably sing fairly well if she didn’t suffer from psychological issues.

Has a floating ferret familiar named Ren and a fat cat named Mr. Pibbles.

Has a love/hate relationship with spring - she loves seeing the plants flourish, but hates the allergies that come with them.

Paints as a hobby, but she hides all her artwork in a loose floorboard because she’s embarrassed about it.

Somewhat good at figuring things out on the fly, but her anxiety leads her to second guessing herself almost instantly.

She loves fruits in all forms, especially in drinks.

Fell in love with the ocean after visiting Costa Del Sol once with the orphanage - she wants to visit again, especially on a clear night.

Blind as a bat; she can’t even find her glasses in the morning after waking up - Ren has to put them on his back and bring them to her.

She knows sign language! She just doesn’t use it often because her art conveys things easier to those who don’t.

Aesthetics

Scents: Baked apples, cinnamon, flower shops, rose water Colors: Grayscale, dark purples and reds Animals: Deer, crows, squirrels Clothing: Long dresses, cloaks, large hats, circle frames, long sleeves, layered shirts, long socks Others: Autumn leaves crunching underfoot, candlelight, the faint sounds of a piano from another room, bird calls, whispers

Mun Notes

First and foremost, I want to say that selective mutism isn’t choosing to be mute - honestly, the term is very poorly named, imo. The link the phrase directs to has a few examples that accurately describe Nanami’s condition:

Twenty-six-year-old Hannah is only able to speak with her parents. In other situations like school, where she’s interacting with a larger group of people who she is less familiar with, her words get stuck, and even though she wants to speak, nothing comes out.

For interactions with Nanami, I know it’s hard to portray her when she’s unable to speak, so people are free to have her talk in sets. But she’s very quiet/soft, and pauses a lot. Ellipses are her best friend tbh.

Her design uses a custom face dds that I edited from Mint’s that I don’t mind giving to people who want to pose her if they ask ;w;

[pseudofaux]

Masanari please. The rest I leave up to you 😉

BLESS YOU I am grateful for this (and for the carte blanche!)! This doesn’t get dirty the way I expected it to, but there’s a treat in there I think is pretty delightful. I hope you will enjoy it. 🤍💜🖤

(Requests are open through May 1!)

They have already been sitting on the floor together for several minutes of silent work when he says, mournfully, “You hurt my foot.”

“I think you mean my foot,” she says gently, flexing the injured end of her in his hand. His grip tightens.

“No. I meant my foot. The same as if any other little mouse in my possession hurt their paw. These limbs report back to me,” Master Masanari says as he delicately pats on a poultice. “And they are mine.”

She sighs, piqued at the implication he has other mice and piqued at herself for thinking such a thing. But there is little point in denying or pressing him. And he is currently doing her a favor, treating the abrasion on her sole. He is a surprisingly--shockingly-- caring healer when he wants to be... he has been gentle with her angry flesh, and his smooth, cool hands felt like water itself when he cleaned the wound.

“Thank you,” she tells him.

“For reminding you of your place?” He asks it without looking at her, but she is looking at him, so even if she couldn’t hear the lilt in his voice she can see his eyebrows go up in a mockery of mild surprise.

“For all your help,” she says respectfully. His hum is very, very pleased as he looks at the way the poultice is sticking. He begins to wrap the first layer of bandage and she thinks he looks like a classical portrait of a weaver, some artisan with flowing hair and skilled hands. He’s not a nice man, but he’s a very beautiful one, and she does love him.

She briefly reconsiders her affection when he offers to slice Kiyohiro’s foot to show her what he means.

“No!” she tells him, and she tugs her own foot back, but his grip is around her ankle so all it gets her is a shocked feeling in her knee when she cannot move. “Don’t be like this,” she pleads.

“Then do not spend time being stupid that you should spend being still,” he tells her, as though it is a kind thing to say. The iron of his grip becomes silk as his hand slips back down to her foot. He leans down and kisses the tip of her middle toe, then nips it. He goes back to the bandaging.

Her mouth, or maybe her spirit, is stupid despite his warnings. Or maybe it was the sharpness of his bite after so much gentle care. “Do you kiss Kiyohiro the way you kiss me?” she asks. It sounds like a child’s taunt and she is instantly ashamed of herself.

He looks thoughtful but does not answer, and that’s when she knows her danger is very, very deep. Two of his fingers guide her foot to the floor, then press until she makes a noise of pain, which brings back his smile. Master Masanari looks right at her and smiles and presses again. Then he leans close to her and puts his hands on the ground as though he is not steady as a boulder without them.

“You’d like to watch me try, wouldn’t you, little mouse?”

Oh no. Oh no, oh no. How does he know?! She has never even allowed herself to have a fully-formed thought about them together! “No!” she sputters, leaning back as though he will not use the advantage of his hands on the ground to lean further forward and follow her, crowding her though there is nothing at her back. His presence looms over her like a hooded snake. “No!” she repeats, voice smaller. “I don’t know,” she confesses, smaller still.

“Do not test my patience, then, or I may kiss him and not let you watch,” he whispers. He does not hiss, but the words do not sound human.

And then he leans back, and the sunny afternoon resumes where it had just been so very shadowed. Master Masanari carefully sets his small case of tools and vials and bandages in order, and empties the bowl of water he used to clean her injury directly into the garden despite the impropriety. Her heart is beating the way it does when he kisses her senseless, which is twin to the way it beats when she runs for her life. She cannot do that now, not until her foot heals.

He knows it, he treated her. And he must have packed his healer’s kindness away with everything else, because he is very clearly making fun of her when he says, in Lord Yasumasa’s voice and very loudly, “I cannot explain the depth of my sorrow that I am unable to satisfy your voracious sexual appetite, but if you are determined to pursue the lord of the Tokugawa, rightly famed for his sensual prowess, I will humble myself and wish you the best.”

Oh no. Oh no.

He is very light on his feet, so light he can bite her nose, kiss the bite, spin in a dance of gray cloth and blood red flowers, and leave no trace of himself behind as he silently strides away, quickly but without any real hurry. She is still sitting on the ground with her mouth open in shock at the trap he wove around her when two maids with wide eyes turn the corner, looking for the source of the day’s newest gossip.

[bbnibini]

RAPHAEL, AVATAR OF BLUSHING HUMILITY (TO COUNTER PRIDE)

(ao3 vers.)

The third eldest (after Cain and before Uriel)

Looks like a playboy but is actually really really shy around girls (looks can be deceiving!)

Is the type who blushes when you compliment him. He lives up to his name after all.

Doesn’t like it when the attention is on him, and can only concentrate on his work when he is alone. He’s self-conscious like that.

His name means “It is God who has healed”. And again, lives up to his name since he acts as the main healer/doctor in Heaven. To accommodate with the modern times, he updates his medical knowledge every 10 years by studying medicine in the human world. Is a hard worker but knows his limits unlike a certain archangel (cough Michael).

He is also the protector of weddings and conjugal love so he often answers prayers from married couples. Raphael really values the sanctity of marriage and does his best to make married couples last. Due to this, he gets saddened, and sometimes even cries when a marriage united by God had been broken.

Has very high empathy and cries at the littlest things. The literal definition of a soft boi.

Suffers the brunt of Uriel’s antics due to the closeness of their lines of work from each other. If he complains he’s tired, 70% of the time, (post-snap)Uriel is the reason for his stress.

The remaining 30% is Gabriel’s doing.

Combined together and it’s Raphael’s living nightmare.

Really tries his best to contain the sexual deviant that is the Avatar of Chastity. (ironic)

Such attempts consist of him driving the said deviant away from the cherubs, Luke and Azrael. (Must protect the children!)

…and giving him the death stare when Uriel attempts to open his mouth in front of Michael when the latter asks for “suggestions”. (grandpa is tired already and doesn’t need the additional stress).

“Don’t have sex. Because you will get pregnant and DIE.” 

If he doesn’t do damage control, no one will. Michael is too busy, Cain is too doting and Seraphiel just…gave up. Azrael is only a few hundred years old. What if he learns from his brothers’ bad examples?

The disappointed and unappreciated(?) single mom of the group.

Likes brewing tea. Often brews tea to go with Luke’s sweets.

Is good friends with Simeon. Also not good with human technology outside of medicine like his friend(though not as bad as Simeon).

Keeps a stash of lollipops for his little patients and often gives some to Azrael after the young boy’s angel-of-death training with Michael. Since Azrael wouldn’t accept them without reason, he usually makes an excuse that the Avatar of Patience needs “a checkup every time after training”. He knows how harshly Azrael treats himself sometimes so he liked to at least cheer him up a little by giving him his favourite sweets.

A bit of a health nut, but since he has child patients, he often makes his concocted medicines a lot more palatable for their taste buds. He often mixes his herbs and concoctions in snacks and desserts to get children to drink their medication.

He also realised this is the best way for Seraphiel to finally eat the vegetables he hates so much. Of course, he does so without the Avatar of Temperance’s knowing.

The unofficial baker for the Virtues. Likes teaching Luke how to bake in his free time.

If you want to see something adorable, tell him “Great job!” or “I really appreciate you.”

Expect a human tomato with teary eyes, and overall just a sputtering mess.

Self-deprecation.exe

Rather than his angel form, he likes using his human form more. He’s especially fond of wearing labcoats. He thinks the clothes in the Celestial Realm are too flashy for him.

As long as you don’t pay attention to him, he’s easily one of the most powerful angels in Heaven. But due to his shyness, he’s usually content with standing by in the sidelines.

Is probably an otaku. Seraphiel briefly saw him holding out a weird looking glowing wand while chanting “Roo Rye-chin is bay” in his office once. Raphael avoided him for 3 days straight after the incident.

His mint green hair gets disheveled while working so he started tying it up. Azrael also gifted him with some hair pins to keep the hair out of the way and he liked it so much that he started growing his hair longer so he can use it everyday.

Had some beef with Asmodeus back in the day but they seem to have a neutral relationship now.

…Raphael has no idea why he always gets entangled with lascivious personalities either.

Illnesses do not always have to be physical. Raphael also pacifies those with troubled minds. If you pray to him when you have some mental ailments, or even anxieties, he would always offer an ear to listen. Oftentimes, he couldn’t help but absorb your negative energy, which he usually expresses through crying. Even so, if he knows listening to your prayers would ease even a bit of your pain, he will always be willing to help you.

Also the patron angel for the blind. These days, he couldn’t heal the blind while on incognito unlike the old days, so he instead helps researchers or doctors sometimes when treating blind or partially blind patients. He also does this in other fields of medicine. If he discovers a way to treat an illness and along with it, gains Michael’s approval to interfere with the humans, he will do so by offering information, or sometimes, he appears in researcher’s or doctor’s thoughts or dreams so they could take credit for the information themselves. If a medical discovery was discovered in serendipity, 90% of the time, it was due to Raphael’s interference.

He doesn’t have any preferences for food. He would be happy to eat anything as long as it’s healthy and filling.

Often goes foraging in the human world as an excuse to find rare herbs and plants he can use in his medicine.

His medical knowledge (especially potion making) often attracts the attention of witches. Since he has almost zero social skills especially  in dealing with the opposite sex, he uses Michael as a shield so he wouldn’t deal with them.

Michael’s office is a fortress in itself. Once you promise to help him out with his work, good luck getting out alive. (He doesn’t mind though. It’s a lot better than dealing with girls).

Probably bumped into Levi a few times when going to Ruri-themed events.

He tests the medicine he makes on himself before using it on his patients. Due to this, he is resistant, and even immune to some poisons.

If he coops himself up in his clinic for more than a week, he’s most likely in quarantine from whatever deadly side effect his experiment-of-the-month brought upon.

He has little regard for his own well-being, and often prioritises other people over himself. Despite his timidity and shyness, he is quite daring, perhaps even careless if the other party involved is himself.

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

y’know i really love botw but every time i’ve gotta go through the mipha parts it’s always extremely,,,,, ick

like theoretically i have nothing against her character- a princess healer put on par with strong fighters and a skilled tricksbird? that’s pretty chill- but in execution i have many problems with her character. namely in the fact that she doesn’t really have a character outside of ‘had a crush on link’

i’mma talk about stuff in the champion’s ballad while i go so warnings for that but

reading through mipha’s diary like... all it really does is talk about link with side notes about becoming a champion. which is fine in and of itself, y’know, link and her are childhood best friends, she can talk about him, the other champions do

but it’s not just talking about ‘link the childhood friend,’ it’s talking about the preparations of the armor for him (where did she get his measurements???), the choice to leave her family at risk of death because she would do ‘anything to help him,’ the jealousy of him spending time with zelda????

the diary’s written like a bad fanfic all about link, and after finding it practically all the main zora characters are acting like they’re in a bad fanfic too, practically stating as fact that had mipha survived the calamity she and link would be wed by now. an oddly sure sentiment to express to someone who barely remembers mipha and was at best her FRIEND when last left off, but they do them ig

you don’t even need to look at champion’s ballad content for evidence of this over-simplification of mipha’s character- the tailor-made armor is still there, and the memory in which she reminds link she will ‘always heal his wounds’ as well. hell, muzu only decides link’s alright once it’s proven mipha loved him!

now, i’d like to clarify that i don’t have anything against things like a female character crushing hopelessly on the male (though it’s so overdone... if you’re gonna do it at least do it well for gods sake), with childhood friends to lovers, with the promise to always be there for another, with tailor-made gifts and signs of affection, with jealousy, with healers, etc etc etc. i don’t have a problem with the individual elements of mipha and her story

i have a problem with the disservice it does to mipha’s character when all added up

a character who could’ve been a good representation and reminder of the fact that female characters, not necessarily acting ‘macho’ or physically strong or such, could still be strong characters, who were no lesser for their femininity. a princess healer as a champion... that could’ve been good

instead, botw turns her character into nothing more than the average stereotypical head-over-heels woman- she’s meek, a non-fighter, in love with the main male character, always there for him, willing to do anything and risk everything for him (despite his, to all the player’s knowledge, complete lack of interest), upset when he’s around ‘other women,’ acting within her ~natural~ (/s) roles as a woman- make the clothing for the husband, dedicate your life to him, him before you, yada. yada. yada.

mipha’s character had such potential for them to throw it all away on a dime-a-dozen misogynistic caricature and it makes it very hard to enjoy the parts of botw connected to her

[animatorweirdo]

Maedhros x Alien reader part 2

I wanted to make some more Maedhros x reader stuff. This part is more like how they live now after escaping Angband. Hope you like the new part and tell me in the comments what do you think. 

---

- After escaping Angband and returning back to his kin. Maedhros slowly started to heal from his wounds and torments. Of course, he will never forget what he went through in that hell, but he will remain strong. 

- His brothers were happy for his return but dissatisfied of his decision of giving up the high king’s rule to Fingolfin. They however were more suspicious of his mysterious female companion, he arrived with. 

- They were suspecting you were Morgoth’s spy, even though Maedhros claimed you were not. 

- They didn’t know, you were an alien. During your travel from Angband, you had taken off your alien skin in order to blend in as a human. You stole clothes from the slain orcs and Maedhros almost had an heart attack when he saw you ripping out your dark skin, and turning into a young woman.

- He also turned away to give you privacy since apparently under your alien form, you are completely naked.

- The only thing left of your alien form was your black tail, which was now smoother and shorter. In your alien form it was longer and more sword like. You hide it under your cloak from prying eyes. 

-You looked like a normal young woman, with short raven dark hair and dark eyes. He noticed you had quite tuned muscles too. You were quite attractive to him, if he was being honest. 

- What made you also so suspicious to his brothers was that you didn’t speak. You were very quiet and you mostly observed what happened around you. 

- They though you were mute, but the truth was you were trying to get your human voice to work. The long hibernation sleep left it hoarse and you were only able to speak in your alien tongue, which the elves would not be able to understand. 

- Gelegorm however was being quite threatening to you, so you decided to make your point and speak for the first time, and they got startled. You got a deep but clear voice, and Gelegorm was left in shock. They got the message and Gelegorm stopped threatening you. 

-You then spoke to Maedhros for the first time and explained some things he was worthy to know. He also learned your name which was quite unusual but suited you well.

- He welcomed you to live with him in Himring, and you gladly accepted since you needed a place to stay until you figure out where your siblings and your mother were, and Maedhros was literally the only one you trusted so far. 

- You were very mysterious to him, you spoke little and you mostly were focused on your mission to find your family.

-You would be gone for some time before you return to rest then continue your mission.

- You sometime stay and help him with some things, mostly to make sure he was well. He lost his hand when you escaped Angband, and you felt responsible so you started nurturing his wounds until they were gone. He had scars but your healing skills almost made him feel like a he was never harmed. He asked about your healing skills and you told him, they were simple tricks taught by one of your older siblings who was a healer of your hive. 

- You didn’t talk about your family a lot but sometimes tell him what some of your siblings are like. He sometimes talk what his family is like and sometimes misses his mother.

-You were quite comforting sometime and he started to warm up to you.

-His brothers still didn’t trust you and the feeling was mutual with you. They were way too hot headed and tempered for your taste, but you slowly warmed up to Maglor and the twins. Maglor was the least aggressive of his brothers and you two quickly warmed up to each other. The twins were simply fascinated by you and one of them might have accidentally discovered your tail. You had to convince them to keep your secret, and luckily they did. 

-You started to open up to Maedhros a bit, and told him some secrets what was behind the globe and what kind of creatures lived behind the stars. 

-He was fascinated and it became common talk between you two. 

- Even though you were physically stronger than twenty men, your bones were unbreakable,you were faster than ten horses, and you can climb on walls. Maedhros became a bit protective of you. He didn’t want anything bad happening to you since Morgoth was now cautious and aware of your existence. He feared you might get taken prisoner and be corrupted by Morgoth’s evil. 

- Because a terrifying beast like you is worth to investigate. He couldn't even think about fighting your kind of opponent. It would be impossible to defeat such a foe if that happened. 

-You however assured him, you were not afraid of the dark lord, and the orcs were nothing to you. The one that should be afraid is the dark lord himself. Fighting one of your kind could be a possible win, but fighting a whole hive is impossible.

- You might be alone for now, but your telepathic connection with your family was restored. Your hive was alive and so was your mother, the queen. 

[theprodigypenguin]

➥: nap BLEASE FEED ME THE ACEDEU FOOD I LOVE YOU YAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

This took a hot minute to complete, as well as several rewrites because it was NOT coming out the way I wanted. This is maybe my fourth edit of it asdfghjkl catch me being a perfectionist for a ONESHOT.

It came out being more fluffy than whumpy I’ll admit, but I still hope you enjoy!!!!

Words: 1737

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“They still in there?”

The question tore Ace from his deep, dissociated train of thought, making him jerk from his position perched on top of a wooden crate with his eyes locked intensely at the door to the infirmary. He forced his eyes away from the door to acknowledge Thatch, who was standing with a plate of food in one hand, the other stuffed into his pocket. Ace eyed the steaming meat for an instant before looking back at the door, arms folded atop of his knees.

“Uh-huh.”

“Sheesh, it’s been what, twenty hours?” Thatch set the food beside Ace and leaned off on one leg, folding his arms. “Must’ve been worse than what we thought.” Thatch looked between Ace and the food. “You should eat something.”

“Later,” Ace said quickly, hands gripping his elbows and a frown weighing his lips. “I’m not hungry right now.”

“Ah come on, we both know that’s a lie.”

“I’ll eat when Deuce eats,” Ace decided, though he did cast a longing look to the meal Thatch had meticulously prepared just for him.

He felt too anxious to eat, even if he was hungry. He couldn’t stop thinking about the medical situation going down behind the infirmary door.

Twenty hours ago Marco had roused the couple from their sleep in the middle of the night, banging a fist against the door until someone opened it. He’d rushed out a frantic explanation that the thirteenth division had returned from their mission with near fatal injuries, and that they needed every medical staff available to help. Deuce had practically fallen into his clothes before stumbling after Marco, still half asleep and rubbing the sand from his eyes, telling Ace to go back to sleep — that he’d be back soon.

Ace hadn’t really been expecting his partner back that night, but soon ended up being almost a full day. It was getting dark out, most of the crew had retired to their quarters unless they were one watch.

Deuce had been in the OR with Marco for hours. He’d been working with barely any sleep, probably no breaks and certainly no food. Ace had stubbornly chosen to fast in solidarity, at least until the infirmary doors opened and Deuce was released from his duties, but it felt like a losing battle.

The aroma of Thatch’s excellent cooking was tempting, so Ace buried his mouth and nose against his forearms to block out the smell, sending a frustrated glare in the head chef’s direction. Thatch caught his eye and unfolded his arms, placing his hands on his hips and returning the glare.

“Deuce won’t be very pleased if he finds out you’re starving yourself just because you’re worried about him.”

“I’m not starving myself. I missed one meal at best!”

“You missed three. Plus all your usual snacks — and by snacks I mean all those times you sneak into the kitchen to steal food when I’m otherwise occupied and can’t catch you.”

Ace lifted his head in alarm. “I missed three meals?” He turned his head down to look at the food, his stomach making a noise that almost sounded sad. “I guess a little wouldn’t hurt…”

“You better clean the plate; and don’t worry about Deuce and the others. I’ve already got the kitchen working on their next meal. Something to help them regain their energy after going nonstop like this.”

Ace didn’t answer as he put all his focus into eating. The plate was half cleared when the door to the infirmary opened. Ace choked on his mouthful in his haste to get to his feet, shoving the plate into Thatch’s hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet as he eagerly watched Whitebeard’s medical staff shuffle onto the deck.

They all looked exhausted, which Ace had been expecting, but he didn’t spend too much time worrying about them as he swayed side to side on his feet, searching for Deuce. The blue haired doctor was the last to exit the infirmary. Marco walked at his side, a hand on his back to help him walk, and Ace could see why. Deuce looked worse off than the rest of them did. Ace could see the shadows beneath his eyes even with the mask on. Deuce’s eyes looked glassy and unfocused, his shoulders were slumped, and he couldn’t seem to lift his feet from the floor. He was swaying dangerously from side to side, probably only staying upright thanks to Marco’s assistance.

Ace was moving almost instantly, half jogging to meet the duo. He had one hand raised towards Deuce, wanting to pull the other man into his arms, but held back as he looked to Marco for some clarity over the situation. “Hey, are you done? Is everything okay? How are Atmos and the others?”

“Yeah, we’re done finally,” Marco answered, stopping Deuce with a hand on his shoulder. “Everyone’s okay. We almost lost one or two, but managed to keep them on this side of existence for the time being. Do me a favor and get this one back to bed. He’s been on his feet the entire time. Make sure he gets some well earned rest.”

Marco nudged Deuce forward. The younger doctor shuffled in the direction he was led, but the fog in his eyes showed he didn’t know where he was going or recognize where he was. He bumped against Ace, face dropping onto his shoulder, and Ace lifted his arms around him in an embrace.

“Right.” Ace lifted a hand to cradle the back of Deuce’s head, stroking fingers through pale blue hair. “I’ll take care of him. You should lie down too, Marco. You’ve all been up for a while. I think right now is the perfect time for a nap.”

“It’s night,” Thatch commented. “This would be considered bedtime, not naptime.”

“Either way we should all be unconscious right now,” Ace decided, tightening his hold around Deuce and stepping backwards. “Come on, Deu. Let’s get you to bed.”

Deuce seemed to be just aware enough to sort of walk on his own, though he was leaning heavily against Ace the entire time with his face buried into his partner’s neck. Ace kept an arm locked around the middle of Deuce’s back to keep him upright, leading him across the deck towards their room and murmuring the entire way there.

“You did great, I am so proud of you. We’re going to sleep in tomorrow, just the two of us. I mean I haven’t done anything to deserve it, you’re the one who was working and saving lives, but I’m going to sleep in too because that way we can cuddle.”

Deuce murmured something inarticulate that Ace didn’t bother trying to translate. He kicked open the door to their room and carefully led Deuce inside before swinging the door shut with his heel. He didn’t want to let go of Deuce, worried that he was so exhausted he’d simply collapse if the support disappeared, so Ace kept one arm around him the entire time. It wasn’t easy to maneuver Deuce out of his jacket — stripping a deadweight man with one hand was one of Ace’s lesser developed skills — but Ace eventually had Deuce out of his heavy clothing and on the bed.

Deuce seemed to have fallen asleep before his head was even on the pillow, body curled towards Ace’s side of the bed and one hand twisted in the sheets there. Ace was quick to shuck off his boots and shorts so he could lie down beside his lover, lifting Deuce’s arm just enough to wiggle beneath it so he could hold Ace instead of the mattress.

“There you go,” Ace wound his arms around Deuce, hauling him closer and pulling away the mask with gentle fingers — he caressed Deuce’s cheek with his thumb before setting the mask on the desk beside the bed, then turned back to Deuce and pulled him closer. “All cozy now.”

Deuce made a noise as if he was responding to Ace, who tensed up momentarily as the other man shifted under the blankets. Deuce dragged a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes. Ace felt his shoulders freeze under his hands as Deuce pressed his palm to his eyes with a soft gasp.

“Hey, it’s just me,” Ace soothed. “I took your mask off.”

Deuce relaxed, sighing and dropping his hand. “Ace…”

“I thought you were completely out, did I wake you up?”

Deuce shook his head. “Sorry. It was probably annoying having to get me to bed.”

“Nah, nothing annoying about it. I love stripping you!”

Deuce must have still been half asleep, because Ace knew that comment would have gotten a reaction if he’d been fully conscious. Instead Deuce hummed, relaxing completely against Ace.

“Is everyone okay?”

“Marco said so.” Ace stroked Deuce’s shoulder with his fingertips. “You did a great job.”

Deuce’s voice dropped to a softer octave. “I was scared… during it. Even though I’m a doctor and I should be used to it. A few of them flatlined during surgery and… I nearly started crying a few times.”

Ace was frowning at the ceiling as Deuce talked, knowing he would probably never confess to feeling vulnerable in any other situation. Ace knew his partner was still less than confident in his abilities as a healer.

In Deuce’s eyes, he was still a drop out medical student — nothing more. Where healing was involved, Deuce always thought he could be doing more, or doing better, and the only reason he couldn’t was because he dropped out of school before learning the necessary skills.

Ace thought that was bullshit, but he couldn’t tell Deuce to stop feeling worthless. All he could do was support Deuce and stay optimistic in the hopes that one day Deuce would see just how invaluable and irreplaceable he was.

“Yeah, but guess what? Marco said everyone survived, and you’re part of the reason that was possible. You helped save our friend’s lives. I couldn’t have done that. I don’t even know how to give someone an IV.”

Deuce hummed again, already sleeping again, and Ace laughed softly. He turned his head to press a kiss to Deuce’s hairline, then pressed his cheek against his lover’s forehead and shut his eyes.

“You’re so much more amazing than you think. I wish you could see what I see.”