#cross x mana

[circeyoru]

The Only Reason _ Part 2

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader - Mana Chaos AU]

*Note: I got a name for the AU!! Mana Chaos!! A bit random, but I just went with it. Here’s part 2 since the part one blew up.

Part 1 — Part 2 (here)

“Have a safe trip, Personnel 002.”

“Be safe, please.”

“We’re counting on you.”

“Don’t let your guard down.”

As you expected everyone was treating you like you were the one going into a war zone and not the S-Rank Hunter that was doing the country a favour. You internally sighed while you maintained an expressionless face to all those around you bidding farewell or wishing you luck and safety. 

Honestly speaking, you were the safest person in the building, if not, in the world with the amount of Shadow soldiers Jinwoo has put into your shadow for your protection. Just the other day, you were furiously protected by none other than Beru, one of Jinwoo’s strongest general grade or was it higher? You can’t recall and Jinwoo did explain to you once, but your system overloaded and didn’t catch much.

Concerning how those soldiers came to be, it was simple. To raise them from the dead. With every battle, Jinwoo grows stronger and stronger, hence why you privately dubbed him a National Level Hunter. His army of Shadows could practically cover the entire country two or three times, maybe even more. Even give Thomas a run for his money, if they ever meet each other in a battle. It would be distaterous so you rather not come to it.

This is why you didn’t want Jinwoo in the facility at all. He has perfect control over his emotions and high morals if you don’t cross his line. He was overall peaceful even with his vast strength and power. Unlike Thomas, he was tamed and very very well-behaved, to put it simply. You had tried to get your seniors or higher-ups and colleague to understand, but they all brushed it aside, saying an S-Rank belongs here and under surveillance. 

Once, they agreed to observe Jinwoo’s tamed nature, to stop your insistence. However, it turned out horribly. You watched from the surveillance room when your unconvinced party enter Jinwoo’s cell. It all appeared normal until the straitjacket was removed from him and he started lashing out. The guards immediately tried to subdue him and rescue the innocent group from the clushes of the raging Hunter.

A chill ran down your spine as you froze up while the room darkened, an echoy whispered in your ear, “I heard you wanted to kick me out. So cold of you, really. I would have behaved if you had a work-life balance, but you are always in this insufferable building, so I have to decline.”

“You could have just told me…” You voice only came out as a mere mutter, but Jinwoo heard it loud and clear. Whatever controlled and peaceful image you have of Jinwoo gone to the drains, never to be recovered in that moment. Like anyone else, you were afraid. Not for yourself, but for those around you.

A dark chuckle rang and you felt like you were in his shadowy embrace with a weight lunched over from the back of your head down to your spine. “That was an option, but I wanted to show you my opposition to your idea. This was the best way I’ve come up with. Plus, it shows everyone here that you aren’t replaceable.” The weight was gone and the room returned to normal with his words beckoning you to him, “So come and calm me down, Personnel 002.”

Looking out the transport vehicle, you saw the streets practically empty apart from the guards stationed from place to place. You grimaced at the fearful citizens that no doubt went indoors or hid in their homes at the news. 

Whenever an S-Rank is let out of their cell into the streets, be it for fresh air or raiding an impossible dungeon for the country, the public would get news of it and warn the citizens to stay away from the gate and advised to remain indoors while the mentioned locations or roads would be purposefully used to transport the Hunter directly to the site. 

Bringing an S-Rank to an A-Rank gate or higher alone was practically giving them a death sentence. It was the government and people’s way of telling the strong Hunters to control themselves or they would die hourably in the raid while protecting their country. 

A case of such an instance was the Jeju Island Raid. An S-Rank dungeon that have failed for 4 times before an alliance was formed between the Japanese S-Rank and Korean S-Rank. The Japanese Government sent their strongest to offer support, but mostly to get rid of them because they have grown too powerful and influential. With the <Outrage Incident>, they couldn’t afford to take any chances. 

That raid had the most S-Rank Hunters in the same place, fighting the same battle. Originally, Jinwoo wasn’t present and you were with him in his cell doing paperwork while he watched the news. As sudden as it came, Jinwoo demanded to go there to help his fellow S-Rank Hunters from total annihilation. 

When you saw the murderous ant, you knew Jinwoo wanted to add him into his army. You did wonder if the people above would want help, since it was a sure-fire way to rid the S-Rank Hunters but when again without the S-Rank, who would clear the harder gates? This stupid EMI system and all the cautiousness of frightened people. 

In the end, Jinwoo’s wish was granted and you were also sent to the front lines in case Jinwoo went haywire. As drugs and medicine was proven ineffective to Jinwoo, the next best thing was you, since he held you in high regard. Not only did Jinwoo get his new soldier, who was later placed as your bodyguard, but he also somehow managed to control the other surviving S-Rank Hunters. 

What happened after was Jinwoo showing his dominance over the other S-Ranks in Korea and making himself at the top of the food chain. He’s stay mild and controlled because he wanted to. Not because you people —the public and the government— could control him. 

The vehicle stopped and your door was opened from the outside, a guard nodded and welcomed you while you got out. Your eyes looked over to the gigantic gate. 

“Feels like a date, doesn’t it?” Jinwoo’s voice brought your attention to him. Dressed in a causal manner, a shirt and pants, plus a long coat to complete his look, his stuck to his dark theme. You were quite used to him in a straitjacket that everytime he was dressed normally, you were always spellbound. He chuckled and ruffled your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re looking good.” You looked away to the side, a faint blush over your cheeks. There was no use fangirling in secret when Beru or some other soldiers would report back to him and he’d have a field day the next time you visit him. You might as well be honest and tell him now to get over it.

Now it was Jinwoo’s turn to freeze up and chuckle. “Thanks.”

Amidst the careful atmosphere, you sense the guards around you two on edge with Jinwoo’s freedom to do anything and his power unrestraint. Better enter the gate before they act out of fear and trigger some ridiculous conflict. “Let’s go, do you need any gear?”

“I only need you by my side.” Jinwoo returned back to his smooth and cheeky self, smiling down at you with a soft look in his eyes. 

You physically and mentally controlled yourself so that you don’t faint from his words, reminding yourself repeatedly that you two were in public. It was hard for you to defend yourself against these attacks of his when he wasn’t in his usual dull look in the EMI. He is one handsome man. “Just say we can go…”

Jinwoo extended his hand to you and waited for you to put your hand in his, essentially you’d be putting your life in his hands because once you pass through the gate, he was your only lifeline to return in one piece. You did so without hesitation, Jinwoo will never allow harm to you and never let you out of his sight so long as he lives. You could feel the nervous and anxious glances from the guards scattered around the site from your nonchalant actions.

With a hum, Jinwoo gripped your hand in his and lead you into the gate where only he and you would be without any other humans. Truly as he said, it’d be a date where he and you could be your true selves.

“Come forth.” Jinwoo summoned his army who all appeared at his command, all kneeled and bowed their heads to him. “Like usual.” His eyes glowed a purple hue, “Leave the boss to me.”

So began the massacre while Jinwoo walked you through it all. The first time it happened, you were beyond terrified for you only knew Jinwoo was a capable S-Rank and shouldn’t be underestimated. That was the first time you’ve seen his army’s might and power. Compared to him, you and all the others in the EMI were ants, mere insects. 

How you managed to capture Jinwoo’s eyes was beyond you, but you were a lucky person to be favoured by him, to some extent. Soon, you didn’t mind Jinwoo’s little favouritism and childish acts to get you into his cell. You looked forward to it. He accepted you for who you are and given you a place, a special irreplaceable place in the world and in his heart. 

For all he has done for you, you wanted to return something for him. You even asked the soldiers in your shadow to keep it a secret from him so it was a grand surprise for him. The Jeju Island Raid that he singlehandedly cleared, you brought the island under his name with your wealth. With the help of the Shadows, you made the island habitable once more and invited some special people to live on it. 

Your hand squeezed his as you looked up to him, he momentarily took his eyes off the battlefield and stared into your eyes. “Yes?”

A rare smile spread on your face, your inner self becoming giddy and expectant of Jinwoo’s reaction. “Do you want to see your family? I’ve offered them a place to live away from all the criticism and pressure from the government and public. They’ve also been wanting to see you too, face to face.”

Jinwoo’s eyes widened. The moment he was reevaluated, he was sent to the EMI building in Korea, he was treated like an object rather than a human being. He could have lashed out, but his family was on the line and while he could use his Shadows to protect him so he has freedom, that only puts a target on his back. By then, people would want him dead for sure. 

The only solance he found in his darkness was you. The you who found out his secret and kept it to yourself, even wanting to give him back his freedom for your security, but he wanted to stay by your side instead. He thought that’s all he needed, but one day, you connected him with his family while in his cell and let him have his moment with them. 

From time to time, you’d call his family and have a video call to let him and his beloved mother and sister chat together while you work in the corner with music playing in your headphones connected to your other device to give him privacy. A luxury he never could have with the protocols of EMI.

He was grateful for all you’ve done for him. Genuinely and absolutely. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

Note: I seriously did NOT think there would be another part. You guys liked part 1 a lot and I have no idea why. Welp, here's part 2. Not sure about a part 3, but I'll see how this one goes. Enjoy~!

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (these are the people from Part 1's comment section)

@stupendouspizzacomputer @xiannars

[draconicscreaming]

A Gentle Touch ~ Laois x reader

The troubles of healing

Notes: I'm sure someone has already written somethin' like this, but I still couldn't help myself

“It’ll heal on its own, Laois. Don’t worry about it. It’s just a scratch.”

You were met with a disappointed frown, honey eyes gleaming sadly at your rejection. He sat up straight, leaning forward in his chair with a determined air about him. “I need as much practice with healing as possible,” the tall man countered back, his gaze flitting from your eyes to the fresh cut that marred the soft skin of your cheek. He presses his lips together lightly, meeting your gaze once more. “I’ve even gotten the words down better and everything! Please… It won’t hurt. I promise.”

You sat rigid in your own chair, one leg crossed over the other and your arms folded in front of your chest. You stare right back at him, attempting to appear steadfast in your decision. Only, both you and him knew that you weren’t that stubborn. Laios knows you’ll break. Unfortunately, you already feel yourself succumbing to his pleading. Who could say no to those eyes? That pouting mouth? That warm, inviting demeanor? Fuck and he was right too. This injury, if you could even call it that, was the perfect thing for him to flex his new ability. 

Only, you didn’t exactly want him touching you. You and Laios were good friends. Really good friends. In fact, you could argue that he was your best friend. Only glaring issue to you was that you had it bad for him. Achingly bad, but you had swallowed the rising tide of emotions towards him and kept things civil. Friendly. You’d heard Chilchuck’s ire towards party relationships, and you were only reminded of that factor when he’d spoken to Marcille about the touching aspect of healing. The issues that have and could arise from that in the Half-foots experiences. And fuck did Laios touching you make your head swim. You desperately wanted his hands on you.

Which is why you were trying to be so adamant on him not healing you. The thought was already lifting the hairs on the back of your neck in anticipation. 

A tense silence settled between the two of you, staring at one another like it was a standoff. You drew in a shaky breath before throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. You hoped he wouldn’t notice how clammy they had become. “Ok! Fine! You’re right. I’ll let you heal it,” you bark out reluctantly. You just wanted this over with.

“Yay!,” Laios chimed, flashing you a triumphant grin. He scoots forward, reaching his hands out with his palms facing up. He pauses there, fixing you with an expectant look. God was he cute. Especially with his honey eyes glimmering like that. You slowly uncross your legs and try to force your body to relax as you scoot your own seat closer to lessen the gap. You draw in a shaky breath to calm your nerves and offer your hands to him.

“I’ll need to touch your cheek, ok?,” He says softly, tilting his head ever so slightly in that puppy-like way he has about him. You swallow and nod, screwing your eyes shut when one of his hands reaches forward and gently grasps one of your own. His other settles against your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the cut. Warmth spreads through your body, his touch like electricity. You hoped he wouldn’t notice the rise in your heartbeat. Laios drew in a breath and began his chant, his touch still so very tender on your cheek.

The world around you felt as if it were slowly melting away as you listened to the soft baritone of his voice. Your heart and breathing gradually slowed, shoulders slumping as a calming feeling settled over you like a blanket. Was this Laios’ doing? The connection of his mana to your own? Subconsciously, you leaned more into his touch, nuzzling against his palm. A soft hum vibrated in your throat, a smile pulling up at the corner of your lips. It took you a solid couple of seconds to realize that Laios had fallen silent and your eyes flickered open. You looked up at him, mouth going dry as you realized he was… Blushing. His features had fallen into a dumbfounded expression and he looked as nervous as you had felt just moments ago. 

“L-Laois?,” you managed to ask, feeling your own features heat up. Oh crap. Did you make him uncomfortable? You hadn’t meant to do that. Crap, crap, crap…  

“Uh- um,” he stammered, his fingers still hovering close to your face and his other hand gripping your own. Hard. He visibly swallowed, his adams apple bobbing up and down. His lips parted a couple of times before he finally spoke, his honey-gold eyes averting away from you. “That was… Kind of… Cute,” He admitted quietly. The tall man's touch settled back on your cheek, his thumb running along your skin in a delicate touch. 

You stared at him. You were at a loss for words. Completely and utterly devoid of them when he switched his eyes back, a fond expression replacing the surprised one from before. Tentatively, you pressed your face closer into the warmth of his palm, earning you a faint smile from Laois. He tilted his head, cupping your face ever so delicately. His hand nearly took up the majority of your cheek, his hold strong yet comforting.

Somehow these small actions emboldened you.

You drew your face away for a moment, noting the switch in Laois’ expression from content to faintly disappointed. Without breaking eye contact from the tall man, you angled your lips towards his palm and placed a gentle kiss against the exposed skin. Laois’ breath hitched in his throat and his blush deepened further, lips parting ever so slightly. “Y/n-”

“Hey! What’s going on in here!” Chilchuck’s voice cut through the room like a knife, the Half-foot appearing in the doorway. Neither of you had heard his return. The two of you scrambled to your feet, knocking the chairs over in the process. You both cursed loudly, clumsily stooping to pick up the furniture, bumping into one another. Chilchuck shook his head, muttering to himself as he turned to leave. The troubles of healing.

Laois never did finish mending your cut that night.

[izunx]

Hello! Can I request a Luck x Black bull Reader fanfiction where the reader is head over heels for him, but he's not really interested in romance. She often gives him cheesy pick up lines, and tries to flirt with him only to be met with a neutral reaction. But slowly, Luck begins to see how much she cares for him, whenever they go on missions and whenever she protects him. And he slowly starts to fall for her. Thank you so much for taking requests!! 🖤🖤

LUCK x reader

She fell first, he fell harder

. she tries her ultimate best to gain his attention, protecting him and using her ‘best’ pickup lines on him!

“dhdhd” is speech and ‘fhrhd’ is thinking!

no warnings.

“Y/N come on you know how Luck is!” Vanessa took pity on you, this was the a hundredth time Luck turned down your fruitless attempt at trying to flirt with him, “He’s just not interested at romance at all.”

“He will once I use this line!”

Vanessa could only shake her head at how stubborn you were being, it’s been over a year of your attempts.

You got up in a hurry once you heard the door to the base open; you knew it was him.

“LUUCKKK!!”

Even Gauche was rubbing his temple, knowing the outcome of what you were going to do.

Luck smiled when you came crashing down the stairs.

“Hey Y/N!”

“Luck, do you like raisins?”

Vanessa groaned, knowing what was going to be said.

“Hmm, I guess I do!”

You smirked looking back at the few members watching this play out, ‘I got this guys!!’

“Then.. how do you feel about a date!”

“I guess they’re quite nice too” Luck simply smiled and walked up the stairs in a rush, trying his best to conceal his reddening face.

… everyone looked at you in pity.

“I think it’s time you let that man go Y/N” Noelle pat your back and gave you a sad smile.

“NO” You stormed up following him to try another one of your stupid pickup lines, but we all know how that would turn out.

—

Yami knew what he was doing placing you and Luck on your fifth mission together. You were both sent to clean up after the mess he made and round boars up.

“This’ll be fun Y/N trust me!”

You sigh and keep your arms crossed, you’re running low on these pickup lines.

“Yayyy!!” You try to make the best out of this.

It’s been a few minutes since starting to round these boars up and you had the brightest idea to try again.

“Hey, hey Luck, did you just come out the oven?” You strike the boar with your magic and sit atop it.

Luck just giggles and after hitting the last boar, sits next to you.

“Because you’re hot” You looked at him hopefully.

“That one was a funny one!!” He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but his heart skipped a beat.

…

That was your last straw. It’s been coming up to a year and a half of your efforts in vain, it didn’t look like it was getting any closer to dreams coming true. Hopping off the boar, you sat down against the tree fed up.

“Yep. I’m sure you can handle the few that are left, goodluck Luck.”

He looked at you confused, but didn’t say anything in argument.

Luck went off and it had been a few minutes since he had been rounding the rest of the boars up.

But something was off.

You sensed someone with an overwhelming amount of mana nearby and that didn’t make sense considering the mission was supposedly near by a village in the forsaken realm.

You got up and went on a search for Luck.

“LUCCK”

“hey Y/N!” he just got done with the last boar.

“Did you also sense that mana?”

“Yeah, you too?”

“That’s not normal, we should go check it out”

“Never thought you’d ask!” Luck exclaimed.

Both you and Luck scouted the area, coming towards the source of mana. But you wanted to use this opportunity of silence -

“Hey Luck, have you ever had a crush?”

He giggled at that question, but he didn’t seem to happy, “Crush?! I’ve never felt that kind of thing before, I don’t think i’m even capable of feeling butterflies when I like someone”

He was lying. Of course he was. He feels it when he’s with you, although he would never admit it.

He’s been liking you since he’s realised your constant efforts of trying to protect him, since your constant attempts trying to go out with him.

He was planning on never telling you.

You paused in your place, watching him go onwards. Maybe Vanessa was right in thinking he wasn’t interested in romance, or maybe he just didn’t like you.

Not knowing how to feel, you slowed down letting Luck go first. It was getting closer to the open area near the village.

But at that moment, a strike of fireball magic was flashing towards Luck’s head.

It was instinct really, instinct for you to throw Luck out the way and for you to absorb the impact of it.

You’d die before letting Luck get hurt. Even though he might’ve not done the same.

“Y/N?!” His eyes flew open in shock and he rushed to your side. He heard a cackle coming out the bushes.

“What a shame, I wasn’t even striking for her!” The man in the cloak cackled.

Luck went silent.

‘why would she do that?’ he held onto you tight.

He got up, lightning sparking out of control in his hand.

“Yeah? well I’ll be striking for you.”

—

“Gosh this is bad!” Vanessa held her head in disappointment, staring down at your injured body covered in ointment.

Luck simply sat by you, head down next to your head.

“How’d you let this happen?”

“She threw herself in front of the fireball, for me.”

“She never gives up” she shook her head, “you damaged that man beyond full recovery too”

“He deserves it”

“Well then, make sure to also get some rest, you didn’t exactly get out unscathed either” Vanessa looked at him solemnly before shutting the door.

“… why would you do that, Y/N??”

“Because I like you, a lot”

Luck’s head shot up to look at your painful state just barely opening your eyes.

You groan, getting up and holding your head.

Luck stared at you, ‘Am I deserving of your love?’ he could only think.

“I don’t understand”

“What’s there to understand? I think you have a beautiful heart Luck, ever since I met you you’ve only given me a reason to look forward to my day, you make me happier.”

His eyes watered

“I would do anything for you” you pet his head.

Then and there, he realised how valuable he was to you and frankly how much you meant to him.

“Don’t ever do that again” he hugged you, not tight enough to hurt you but firm, “I’ll do my upmost best protecting you now”

“Can’t make any promises,” you snickered and hugged him tightly.

“I got him good! You should’ve seen his face when I kicked his ass, now he knows not to lay a fucking hand on you again - if he’s even capable enough to recover”

you were silenced.

“I thought I hated romance and love, maybe I was wrong about it” Luck gave his usual laugh and tucked you back to rest.

you were at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish.

“no more talking, you gotta recover so we can spar when you’re as good as new!” he grinned widely.

—

“No Noelle, I KNOW it’ll work this time!” You were determined that this attempt was going to be the finale, because it was going to work.

“I’ll have the tissues ready!” she really had no hope for you.

Vanessa giggled and hit you hard in the back.

“come on! I believe you got it this time!”

“The blind leading the blind…” Gauche mumbled.

Luck sped into the house after finishing his spar

“Hey hey Y/N!!”

He sped up and held your hand to his shirt.

“Can you feel my shirt?”

You were puzzled, raising your brow to Magna who followed behind him looking like he was preparing himself for the worst.

“Yeah?”

“You know what material it is?”

“cotton..?”

“Nah. Boyfriend material.”

..

you exploded red. Vanessa was cackling and Noelle and Magna could only shake their heads in disappointment. Finral was nodding in approval.

“And that! is how you pull girls!” Finral slapped Luck on his back.

Maybe your efforts weren’t in vain, Luck did realise his feelings for you.

“Hey Y/N? How about we spar?”

You were still lost for words yet again, but you smiled.

“Yeah, of course Luck”

[seresinhangmanjake]

Can't Let You Go

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: When you and Jake broke up, it hurt both of you more than you could handle. Now, after three months of barely seeing or speaking to one another, Jake walks in on the surprise of seeing you in a wedding dress, and it brings past memories and ruined dreams to the surface.

Notes/Warnings: it's a fluffy ending (despite how the summary makes it sound). maybe a bit angsty . There might be cursing. Jake smokes a cigarette. Bradley and Nat are together for this, but there's not much focus on it (sorry to those who find that unappealing).

Words: 1800

-----

What’s the worst that could happen?

That one question was how your bride-to-be best friend got you to squeeze yourself into a wedding dress. You’d protested, heavily, but the last thing you wanted was to snuff out her excitement. So you appeased her with a nod and a false smile and shuffled into a dressing room to do as she'd begged.

What compelled you to select a gown you actually liked was beyond you. You hadn’t wanted to try one on, too afraid of the emotional toll that had the possibility of rearing its ugly head, and yet you didn’t just grab the closest dress off of the nearest rack. You roamed the store until you discovered the one that made your heart skip a beat. A dress that caused your breath to catch as you imagined yourself walking down an aisle, to him. 

As you looked yourself up and down, you felt the tears sprouting for the dream that never came to fruition. You couldn’t tear your eyes away until Nat shouted, “You have to come out. That's kind of the whole point, Hon.” So you did, stepping up onto the low pedestal. 

Her eyes widened, her fingers moving to cover her lips. She stared for a long moment. “Oh my God,” she said with a sweet smile, “You look perfect.”

“Nat,” you sighed, “come on.”

“You do!”

“Thank you, but this is—” Silly, you were going to say. But the jingle of the boutique door's bell interrupted you. 

From her seat on the suede couch, Nat’s eyes shot over your shoulder. Her face paled. A muttered ‘Fuck’ met your ears in the voice of her fiance. 

With your brow pinched in confusion, you turned, the dress swishing at your feet with your sharp twist. 

Two pairs of eyes were glued to you. One set—a rich, dark brown—was alight with shock; the other—mossy green and all too familiar—was filled to the brink with pain. 

“Jake…” you tried, but he was out the door. 

You found your hand reaching out the slightest in the direction he'd gone. As if you could graze your fingers over the fabric of his shirt and tighten it within your palm to pull him back to you.

After absorbing the moment, you hurriedly stepped off the pedestal and rushed into the changing room to strip yourself of the dress.

“You didn’t tell me she was coming to your fitting,” you heard Bradley attempt to whisper. 

“Well, you didn’t tell me you were bringing Jake along to pick me up,” Nat countered. You could practically see the irritation on her face, her arms crossed in defense and foot tapping loudly against the tile. 

“He didn’t want to be alone. Today marks three months since they—”

Nat shushed him as you pulled back the curtain, reclothed in your jeans and t-shirt. “Hon,” she started, taking a step toward you, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was coming.”

“I know. It’s ok,” you assured her before flicking your eyes to Bradley. “Which way did he go?”

“Right,” he didn’t hesitate to say, and you nodded. 

“Thank you.”

—--

The boutique stood alone on the street, nothing flanking it and thankfully making it evident with one quick glance that Jake, had he attempted to make a run for it, wouldn’t be able to get far. You didn’t see him, so there was only one other option. 

When you rounded the building, you found him leaning against the brick wall, his head tilted slightly upward, his eyes closed, as he blew out a breath of smoke. The cigarette trapped between his fingers wiggled from his shaking hand. 

Sensing your presence, like he’d always managed to do, he said, “Please tell me you didn’t get engaged three months after we broke up.”

You walked up to his side and copied his stance. “Of course not.” When he didn’t follow up with more, you continued. “I thought you quit.”

Jake finally opened his eyes to glance down at the cigarette. “I quit for you,” he said before taking another drag. 

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest. 

You’d always worried about him, long before you even got together. His job, his emotions, his habits. His job you couldn’t change, but his emotions and the habits that came with them, you could help. You’d been there for him, and he for you. Yet, it didn't occur to you that he would find himself revisiting past obstacles without you by his side. It should’ve. You should’ve pushed through any discomfort or awkwardness between you to be there for him. You should have been better.

“Jake…”

He released another stream of smoke, the quiet act somehow effectively cutting you off. “I’m not back on ‘em. Just one here or there…” he flicked his index finger to knock off the ashes, “to calm me down.”

Beats passed. How many, you couldn’t say. All you knew was that not so much silence had filled the bubble around the two of you since you were left spent and hurt after the blow up of ending your relationship. Though, in truth, you hadn’t been near each other enough in the past few months for the possibility of that situation to present itself. 

“I didn’t expect to see you,” he suddenly said, “and the dress kind of…threw me.”

“Nat made me.”

With a snort, he said, “Figures.”

More agonizing silence dragged painful memories to the surface. The tears, the shouts, the pleading and apologies from the day that continued to haunt you. 

“Jake.”

He hummed.

“I think we need to find a way to exist in the same space. It’s too difficult to try to work around one another when it comes to our friends and the places we frequent in town. I understand that you don’t want to be with me, but—”

“Me?” he snapped, head whipping in your direction. The blaze in his eyes seared the shock in yours, yet his tone maintained a calmness that, when accompanying his words, felt more eerie than anything. “I don’t want to be with you? You’re the one who ended us. You told me you were leaving, and then you didn’t even go.”

Your head fell and you began to pick at your fingernail. “Would you have preferred I left?”

“I would’ve preferred if you stayed my girlfriend.”

Looking up, you asked, “What changed your mind?”

A flash zipped across the green of his irises. “What are you talking about?”

“A week after we broke up, I chose not to go,” you said. “I wanted to be with you more than I wanted that job. I went to your house to tell you, but you weren’t there, so I went to the bar.” A hard swallow at another memory failed to relieve the aching lump in your throat. “I found you kissing some woman and I realized you’d already moved on.”

Jake took careful breaths—one too many for your liking—before letting out a soft chuckle. It held no humor. He shook his head. 

"I didn't move on."

"Jake, I saw you."

"She kissed me," he said. "I told her it wasn't going to happen, then went home and drank myself stupid trying not to think of you." His eyes tore away from yours to stare ahead. And with a pinched brow, he shook his head once again as he tossed the remaining nub of the cigarette into a nearby trash can. "I did not succeed, I should add. So, no, I didn't move on. I can't even imagine trying." 

You were overwhelmed with an array of emotions, each of them warring, mixing chaotically. Waves of relief crashed into the shame lingering from the day you fought. They churned with the pain you'd yet to let go of after seeing someone else kissing the man you love. There was a tick of embarrassment from the, now very clear, misunderstanding between you. But it was the cautious joy that overpowered it all. 

"You still love me?" You said softly. 

A low laugh rumbled in his chest. 

"That's funny?"

"No, baby, I just—" he paused then brushed his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. I never thought I'd have to answer a question like that."

Your lips parted, ready to ask why such a simple question from you was practically stumping him, but he was one step ahead.

"I was always trying to prove how much I love you. Every single day I made sure of it. And I'd hoped I showed it well enough that you'd never need to ask," he said. A light shrug of his shoulders—barely noticeable, yet far from nonchalant—followed. "But here we are."

Without a thought to stop yourself, you reached up to cup his cheek, drawing his eyes back to yours. 

"Jake, I didn't question it. I knew you loved me," you swore. "But I ruined things, and feelings can change."

As if understanding your immediate uncertainty that bloomed from your sudden touch, Jake wrapped his fingers around your wrist before you could dare to withdraw it back to your side. 

"Not mine," he said. Then quieter: "Never mine."

The fresh rawness of his stare, of his tense brow, and softly parted lips, broke your heart. He looked ready to fall to his knees and weep at your feet. He looked how you had felt for months. Like standing, breathing, putting one foot in front of the other, was not easily done. Since you’d left him, nothing had been natural. Nothing came easy. Living life was a chore. And seeing Jake release it all in front of you with his desperation and devastation clear as day, allowed you to do the same. 

Your palm fell to his chest. Jake brushed an escaped tear from the corner of your mouth, then rested his forehead against yours. 

"It's ok," he whispered. "It's gonna be ok."

"I still love you," you said between sniffles.

With a heavy exhale, his whole body eased out of its rigidity. "I love you, too."

"Would…” you started but paused, unsure if your question would be your final strike. But you couldn’t stop the pounding in your heart, nor deny the need you had for Jake. So, despite the shake in your voice, you pressed on. “Would you take me back?"

Your eyes were closed, but you could sense his smile. Then he said: 

"Baby, I never let you go."

---

A/N: it's been a minute since I posted any writing here. Sorry about that. But I'm working my way along my list and hopefully, you guys liked this :)

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi

[takusan-no-ai]

Interspecies Relationships

PAIRING: Serie/Aura x Male Reader (Romantic) (Separate), Frieren x Male Reader (Platonic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: They have a human for a lover, and Frieren has something to say about him.

Serie never was one to openly display her affection to others; even when it came to her precious apprentices. Though despite that hidden love, she always had a way of showing it without even realizing. The same can be said for you. How you met is still unexplainably random.

There Serie was, just reminiscing in a flower field; something she’ll deny doing to this very day. And then she looked up as a shadow gradually grew in size around her. What was supposed to be a painful fall after being flung into the air by a giant bird was instead a comforting patch of grass. Standing above you was a small elf. “Cute”. You called her.

She still smiles fondly at that day, quickly denying or laughing it off when you question her happy mood. Yet for as much as she smiles about it, a part of her is already dreading the bittersweet departure that is inevitable. You will die long before her, and for once Serie is forced to confront her near immortality with disdain.

But she isn’t some young elf with no life experience. Plenty of those she has loved are now lost. And so she intends to enjoy your mortality to the fullest. She won’t treat your life span like a passing thought; you’ll be her boyfriend, husband, and maybe even a father in a very short period of time. Elves don’t fall in love often, so it’s all a very strong, new, and exhilarating experience for Serie.

“Where are we going, Serie?” He asked for the ninth time. (Y/N) was being strung along as his elven girlfriend, Serie, marched ahead. Again, she ignored his question, opting for tugging his hand instead.

“Out.”

“Where?”

“Out.”

“WHERE?”

“Out.”

“…out.”

“Out.”

“Dammit.”

Finally giving up on the useless back-and-forth, (Y/N) resigned to just enjoying the pleasant scenery; bright sky, lush clouds, chirping birds, and a beautiful field of flowers. Suddenly, Serie plopped down on the grass and sat criss cross. (Y/N) fell down with her, now sprayed over her lap.

“Sit up, (Y/N).” She said, looking out in the distance. (Y/N) did as she instructed and followed her gaze. He was met with a beautiful sunrise.

Finally it all clicked in his head. “This is where we met! I thought I had died and gone to heaven when I saw a cute elf standing above me.” He said with no hesitation. Not even an ounce of embarrassment.

Serie blushed ever so slightly. “Ugh, you and your big mouth…you’re lucky I love you.”

Arrogant. Egotistical. Callous. These are the words that describe Aura, and all demon kind alike. She didn’t fall in love either, at least not in any normal sense of the word. Obsessed. Possessive. Entitled. These are the emotions she felt toward you, her supposed boyfriend. You were hers simply because she said so. And why? Simply because she can’t kill you.

Your strength came from none other than being mentored by the Serie, and to some extent, Frieren. The former took care of you throughout your youth, while the latter showed you a thing or two on occasion whenever you’d happen to cross paths. Your immense power, mana, and utter lack of fear wasn’t befitting a human. For once Aura felt terror. She couldn’t kill you.

She did the next best thing to survive, even if it was the most pride damaging thing: seduction. It didn’t work. You remained completely in control and kept her alive in case you ever needed a demon hostage. The power struggle against a mere human awoke something within Aura, and unceremoniously, she looked at you as a “king” of sorts. She wouldn’t kill you.

Aura quickly grew obsessed with your strength and saw to it that if she could convince you to “join” her side, then all humans would tremble before her with no hope. She’d mate with you, make you her husband, and rule over the world alongside you. Her fantasies are quickly shot down when you whack her on head. “Kill another human and I’ll kill you.” She could sense both the love and disdain in your gaze. She’d never kill you. Even if it was her wildest fantasy to do so.

Aura couldn’t move a muscle, her body stiff as a board. Why? Because of him. (Y/N) was fast asleep and held Aura in a tight grip with his arm, lying flat on his back. She wanted to get out. She could smell humans nearby.

If she could just escape and get a little bite. He never said she couldn’t eat from humans; he only said that she couldn’t kill them. Already she wasn’t taking (Y/N)’s threats seriously. Her arrogance truly knew no bounds.

Alas, his strength was still unimaginable even when he slept. Aura was this close to just biting into his neck. “Oh? Oh…oooooh.” Why didn’t she think of that before?!

She turned over as best as she could, now facing (Y/N). His breathing was steady, eyes closed, and face perfectly sculpted. This gorgeous view all for herself. No other woman, demon, elf, human, whatever, would be able to see this side of him. Aura could feel the massive ego boost just brimming.

No time to dilly dally though! She slowly leaned towards his neck, giving it a quick lick first, before biting down as hard as she could. Her jaws met rubber. A stress ball to be exact. “Huh?”

“If you’re going to attack, don’t be so arrogant and give your prey a warning strike.” (Y/N) said while pointing to the spot she had just licked. Aura’s face turned into an immense shade of red; from fury or embarrassment? She couldn’t tell.

“Bite on that every time you feel like relapsing. You’re going cold turkey for a reason.” He said with no apparent care and turned back around. In seconds he was fast asleep.

“Hmph! Nothings stopping me from leaving and feasting right now on those humans, darling!” Aura proudly declared as she got up and headed for the door. However, the moment she touched it her entire body shocked and she fell to her knees.

“Oh yeah. The door does automatic mana drain on all demons. That’s why I always open the door for you. Don’t bother trying the windows. The walls, floor, and roof too.”

She could just feel the smug attitude.

When you’re dating Serie, Frieren has to admit she was way more than just shocked. When being interviewed by Serie to become a first class mage, she WAS NOT expecting to see her siting in the lap of a young man. At first she thought maybe you were just a very overly affectionate apprentice. That was until she saw Serie smooch you on the lips with the most smug smile ever to exist in mankind.

Frieren actually almost passed out from shock. But throughout all that surprise, she’s genuinely happy to see Serie grow softer and value a human’s life more openly. She believes you’ll be a good change for Serie. And is grateful that her master’s master won’t end up like her and Himmel.

When you’re dating Aura, Frieren couldn’t be more disgusted. She was this close to just blasting you with zoltraak when she heard the news. Though thankfully Serie also taught you how to be calm enough to control the conversation even in a dangerous situation. You told her it was more so a king and servant relationship (with you as the king). Of course this was all according to Aura’s own words.

Words that Frieren took with the tiniest grain of salt imaginable. She begrudgingly let you go when you promised to execute Aura if she tried to harm another human being; that you keeping her alive was simply a fail safe in case of emergency. She doesn’t entirely believe you, and entertains the idea of you being mind controlled, but ultimately trusts you thanks to your abilities as a mage.

(Y/N) and Frieren met up in a nearby pub for their agreed hangout. It was less so a friendly meet up and more so a relaying of relationship progress.

“So, how is it going with her?” She asked.

(Y/N) took a bite out of his hamburg steak, smiling slightly. “Decently well.”

“Is she causing any problems? Headaches?”

“Less now. Though she talks a lot about you.” He teased.

Frieren sighed. “Of course she does.”

- Fin

[pupsmailbox]

GOTH ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　abby. ace. addam. alister. amelia. amoret. ange. angel. angelo. anubis. arch. archette. ash. aslan. aspen. astor. astoria. astrophel. atticus. axelle. azazel. azrael. bael. bat. batsy. bella. bellatrix. blade. blair. blanchette. brahms. branwen. cain. callan. calliope. cannibelle. caskeite. casketta. caskette. caspian. celeste. celestia. chaos. charlotte. cherry. chira. chiraelle. chiro. chiroptairre. chiroptelle. chiropteranne. choir. christian. cofette. coffin. coffine. constantine. corbin. corpse. crimson. crow. crowley. damian. damien. demonesse. divina. dorian. draven. edgar. elatha. elijah. elix. elwin, elwin. elwood. ember. emmaline. etienne. evan. evangeline. eve. faith. forest. forrest. frill. frille. frilleine. frilliette. frilly. genesis. ghost. gothita. gothitelle. gothitess. gothitesse. grey. gwen. gypsy. hades. hawthorne. hecate. hemlock. imortalle. imortella. iris. israel. jakob. jet. jett. johnas. josiah. judas. kain. kane. kedi. keir. lacey. laciene. laciette. lazarus. leo. lilith. lilithe. lolita. lucid. lucien. lucifer. lucius. luscious. lynx. maeve. malice. mana. martyr. max. melancholy. merle. micah. michael. misery. mordred. morris. mors. morte. mortis. mourge. mourgette. myrette. nightshade. noah. noctre. nocturne. noir. obsidian. oleander. omen. onyx. orion. orpheus. ozul. ozzy. prince. prophet. raven. ravenie. raveniette. rook. rowan. ruby. saber. saint. salem. samael. samuel. scarlet. secrette. seraph. serenity. shilo. shiloh. silas. silver. silvester. skelly. skulliene. skulliette. skully. sorrow. sylvester. syn. thorn. thorne. tobias. tommy. trix. umbriel. valkyrie. valo. vervain. vesper. victoria. ville. violetta. vito. vlad. woundie. zeon. zephyrine.

PRONOUNS ⌇　abby/abby. ae/aer. ash/ash. bat/bat. bleed/bleed. blood/blood. book/book. bug/bug. burn/burn. chain/chain. chap/chapel. chill/chill. claw/claw. cloud/cloud. cob/cobweb. cof/coffin. coffin/coffin. corps/corpse. creep/creep. cri/cross. cro/cros. cross/cross. cross/crosse. da/dark. dae/dae. dae/daem. dark/dark. decay/decay. dee/dark. des/despair. devout/devout. div/divine. dust/dust. echo/echo. edge/edgy. en/envie. fae/fang. fang/fang. fe/fear. fie/fiend. fog/fog. fri/frill. frill/frill. ghost/ghost. ghoul/ghoul. gore/gore. goth/goth. goth/gothic. gra/grave. grave/grave. ha/haunt. halo/halo. hie/hiem. ho/holy. holy/holy. horn/horn. hx/hxm. hy/hym. ink/ink. lace/lace. lae/lace. lost/lost. mist/mist. moon/moon. net/fishnet. ni/night. night/night. null/null. par/parasol. parasol/parasol. pray/pray. pray/prayer. proph/prophet. ro/rose. rose/rose. rot/rot. rust/rust. sac/sacrifice. saint/saint. scar/scar. shx/hxr. shy/hyr. si/sinister. sin/sin. sku/skull. skull/skull. snake/snake. spider/spider. spike/spike. sto/storm. stud/stud. thou/thorn. thron/thorn. thxy/thxm. vae/vaer. ve/ver. velvet/velvet. vo/void. whis/whisper. whisper/whisper. witch/witch. wood/wood. x/x. xae/xaer. × . ♠️ . ♣️ . ⚰️ . ⛓️ . 🌑 . 💀 . 🕯 . 🕷 . 🕸 . 🖤 . 🥀 . 🦇 .

[fanartlover1234]

GAME OF FEELING

Hook always flirts with Y/n.

Daughter of Eris x Captain Hook

Made by a request in dm

Can u do one where the reader plays hard to get with hook?

Eris as her mother most parted way when she came, too afraid of whaf she might do, her mother was the godess of chaos after all and who knows what her daughter might bring as rumors spread that her father was a powerful wizard.

Y/n liked it that way, it ment she had never have a need to worry for someone crossing her as Uliana herself never dared to touch her.

It ment they feared her and if there is something her mother teached her is thay fear is power.

Everthing is going smooth untill he shows up.

Captain fucking hook himself, almost always at her side amd before she knew the rest of his gang was always around her aswell.

As now she was sitting at a table her elbows rested on her knees as she watched some kids run around.

She flicked her finged amd they triped when a ruck suddenly lifted from the ground and chaos was made.

Hook leaned to her ear and his lips brushed the shell of her ear when he spoke "I love it when you are wicked"

The girl turned her head to him their lips mere inches apart.

"Fuck off hook" she said before getting up amd walking away from the group.

Or

Few days ago, to get a flower they had to kill the deadly bugs around it.

Y/n took her bracelet amd used magic to turn one of the emblems, the scorpion, into live creature.

"So they are deadly right?" Hook asked leaning over rhe girls shoulder to look at the scorpion.

"Yeah like you after a bad nap" she said looking back.

"Maybe it would be better if you were next to me" he said.

"Ill send one of these on you"

Few day pas and the girl wanders around as a soft melody plays in the back round and she sings.

"If theres a prize for rotten jugdement, i guess ive already won that, no mana worth the agroovation thays ancient history been there done that"

The muses come out joining her in her song of heart " Who d'you think you're kiddin'?He's the earth and heaven to you Try to keep it hidden Honey, we can see right through you Girl, you can't conceal it We know how you're feelin', who you're thinkin' of" by muses

"I wont say it"by Y/n

"You swoon, you sigh Why deny it? Uh-oh" by muses

"Its too cliche i wont say im in love, I thought my heart had learned its lesson

It feels so good when you start out

(Ah) My head is screaming, "Get a grip, girl"

"Unless you're dyin' to cry your heart out"" by Y/n

"You keep on denying

Who you are and how you're feelin'

Baby, we're not lying, hon we saw ya hit the ceiling

Face it like a grown up

When ya gonna own up that ya got, got, got it bad?" By muses

"This scene won't play

I won't say I'm in love

You're way off base

I won't say it

Get off my case

I won't say it" by Y/n

"Girl, don't be proud, it's ok, you're in love" by muses

Music comes to an end as the girl whispers the last words to herself "at least not out loud, i wont say im in love" she whispers to herself as the nex part, the only time she will ever say it out loud " im in love with the captain of the seas"

[daistea]

If you ever have the time, would you ever feel like taking a request with mithrun x an elf reader who's been taking care of him for a while? I've been thinking that they'd know of each other pre-demon, but weren't well acquainted (different circles, and reader is more introverted (like misril)) at the time until post-demon where they help nurse him to health and mayhaps join the canaries as a healer/support for the group.

If that's too specific, that's fine! You can take liberties.

If youre like "yeah that plain just won't happen with mithrun/hes not like that", that's fine! You don't need to write it if you don't want to

I don't want to force you or anything; it's just something that's been floating in my mind, recently!

Of course my friend! You asked so nicely <3

I think I’ll use she/her pronouns for the reader with this one if that’s cool! 

Sooooo I’m assuming Mithrun was one of the Wardens in his squad. I don’t recall if it ever mentioned if he was in the first squad or the second. If it’s the second, then Milsiril might’ve been the Vice-Captain of his specific squad at the time, and Mithrun was her second in command like Pattadol is to him now. Cus u know Pattadol is second in command because she’s nobility, and Mithrun is nobility.. Yadda yadda. Let’s just go with that for simplicity’s sake. And since there’s only two Wardens to a squad, I’ve taken the liberty of making the reader a criminal, but it’s for something stupid like… jaywalking lol. Jaywalking using black magic. Or uh maybe using black magic to heal. Both? Two criminal charges, you rebel you

anywho..

tw suicide, mental illness, self harm, blood

Dungeon Meshi Spoilers ahead! 

4500ish words

"Vignettes of a 40 Year Old Desire" - Mithrun x elf/healer female reader

●・○・●・○・●

Getting started was the hardest part.

You took a deep breath, your hands hovering over the wound. The slice in Mithrun’s arm was clean, with no brutal ridges. It would scar, but it would be a straight, neat white line on his skin when it was over. Even Mithrun’s wounds were perfect. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. His voice was soft, and it reminded you of warm blankets on winter days. Your eyes flickered up to meet his and he offered a smile. 

“Yeah,” you said. You sat beside him with your legs curled up beneath you. He sat with his legs criss-crossed, casual as if his bicep hadn’t just been nearly sliced open by the sword of a living armor. He had to be in pain, it was a deep wound. You’d managed to stop the excessive bleeding, but the paleness of his cheeks betrayed that he was feeling weak. 

Still, starting was the hardest part. 

You summoned your stores of mana, connecting to the spirits that made up the world. They were all around you, willing to obey, willing to lay upon Mithrun’s wound and graft his skin back together. A soft light glowed from beneath your palm as you ran your fingers around the edges of the wound. You weren’t sure why getting started was difficult for you, perhaps it was the feeling of magic pulsing through your veins that startled you, or the very fact that you had the ability to defy nature in this way. And there was that little bell that rang in the back of your mind, that urge to go further, deeper, darker. 

That damn bell and its ringing had gotten your ears clipped. 

You pulled back from Mithrun, letting your hands drop into your lap. “Done,” was all you said.

He blinked in surprise, then lifted his arm to inspect the spot where he’d been sliced. There was a faint scar, but it would probably fade if he got some sun. His lips twitched into a frown at the sight, but that expression immediately died, pushed aside and replaced with a smile. Mithrun didn’t need the sun, actually, he carried enough shine in his smiles…. Is what someone stupid would say. 

“Thank you,” his voice was soft, polite. He pushed down the sleeve of his canary uniform and rolled his shoulders. Nearby, the rest of the team was setting up camp for the night. They laughed and passed around a wineskin. There was a spot on the ground between two of your peers, saved for Mithrun. Milsiril was a distance away with her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. She had a sewing needle that she meticulously threaded through the body of a ragdoll. 

You expected Mithrun to stand up and cross the room to join the others. Yet, he didn’t. He stared at you, two silver eyes filled with curiosity. You returned the look and raised a brow as if to silently ask what he needed. 

Finally, Mithrun offered a slightly bashful smile, “You don’t really socialize much, do you? Oh,” he perked up, eyes widening, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, of course. I mean, you’re shy, right? I just don’t know that much about you.”

And that drove him mad. 

You were entirely too aware of Mithrun’s true nature. The others were too busy basking in his light, caught up in his orbit, trapped in his web. Even Milsiril deigned to notice. She could’ve if she wanted, she simply didn’t want to— it would be like looking in the sun, and once you got past the blinding light and actually looked, you would already be burnt. 

You saw the looks on his face when nobody was looking. You didn’t mean to see them, you didn’t mean to stare, but it had become a habit to watch his reactions. There was a flicker of irritation in his eyes sometimes, the hint of a frown when someone didn’t play his game exactly how he planned. There were moments when his shoulders would tense and his smile would turn tight. There were moments he’d avoid answering questions about himself and turn the subject around on the inquirer to keep his history and feelings and thoughts hidden behind a very sturdy, well-guarded wall. 

You were more interested in him than you’d like to admit. You’d drawn several conclusions: Mithrun genuinely enjoyed the company of others, but he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t help but scowl when they weren’t looking and judge their decisions and look down on everything they said and did. He even did it to you.

Which was precisely why you avoided him for the most part. You didn’t want him to know more about you, to provide more ammunition so he could reload his weapon and fire it straight into your back. 

So, all you had to say was, “Yeah, we don’t really talk much.” And you smiled as innocently as you could before standing up and wandering to a corner near Milsiril. 

Mithrun’s eyes lingered on your back. He was probably making that face he made when displeased that his charm didn’t work; analytical, a hint of darkness, one could practically see the red-inked assumptions scribbling onto parchment in his head, destined to be filed under a wildly critical and exaggerated category and kept there until the end of time. 

You only wished you understood why he was like that. 

Mithrun disappeared without warning. The squad had been dispatched to the Central Observation Tower because yet another person had disappeared in the area. Mithrun offered to take his friend’s scouting duty into a dark tunnel because she was afraid of spiders and was convinced that there were millions of them in that specific dark tunnel. Milsiril offered to send you along with him, but at that time you were trying to heal a sprained ankle of another squad member. Mithrun waved a dismissive hand and smiled, “It’s no problem. I’ll be fine on my own, but thanks!”

That was the last you saw of him. 

Milsiril had someone slumped on her arm. She held them up, breathing heavily and covered in dirt and blood and dirty blood. You rushed toward the scene. The person had silver hair caked with quickly drying streaks of red. His head lolled. But he was breathing. Thank goodness, he was breathing. 

Milsiril gently laid Mithrun on the ground. Immediately, you sat beside him, your hands on his cheeks and forcing open his eyes— eye. Singular. The right one was a mess. There was no time to question that, though. You summoned a light spell and opened his eyelid and black irises greeted you. Weren’t his eyes silver before? It was dim, too. Yet, his chest moved up and down and his heart was still beating. You let go of his face and he closed his eyes again, head lolling to the side as he let out a soft exhale. 

“So, this is where he’s been?” You asked Milsiril.

She nodded, “He became the dungeon lord. This place…” she glanced up at the twisted walls and long corridors that led to nowhere. There were monster corpses nearby. So many monsters, strong ones, weird ones with horrific teeth and eyes. “It’s a representation of him. I never knew…”

You knew, sort of. You just didn’t think it would get to this level. You didn’t think he’d fall to the demon. You didn’t think—

There was no time for thinking. You had to get started on healing him. For once, getting started wasn’t so hard, not when your heart raced, not when you were desperate for someone to live.

When Mithrun was conscious again, you offered your hand to help him stand. 

He didn’t take it. 

Of one thing you were certain: Mithrun of the house of Kerensil had no desire to live.

“You should’ve let me die.”

You perked up at the sound of his voice. It was the first time Mithrun had spoken in perhaps a month, and his vocal cords betrayed that fact. His voice was scratchy with disuse, and it was a struggle for him to speak. As you glanced over your shoulder to look at him, he didn’t bother meeting your eyes. His gaze was on the window near his bed, but he wasn’t looking at anything, not really.

“I should’ve let you die?” You echoed. You could hear the anger in your own voice. Mithrun didn’t care, you knew.

He simply nodded. A lock of silver fell over his bony shoulder. His collarbones were too pronounced. The sight made a fire start in your chest. 

“Mithrun?” You asked. 

He turned his head to look at you. One eye, as black as an endless pit, landed on your face. The other was covered by bandages. 

And he waited. He didn’t actually care about what you had to say, you knew. But you had to say it. 

“Don’t ever say those words to me again.”

Mithrun only stared, “Alright.”

Then he returned his attention to the window that he was not looking out of. 

You don’t know when or why you started to care so much. 

You’d always cared about people. You’d always wanted to help. But you didn’t even really like Mithrun before the dungeon incident. Now, his recovery was all you could focus on. And you were absolutely obsessed with the state of things. 

“I don’t know what to do,” his brother whispered, desperate, “I’ve hired so many caretakers but they just don’t do anything for him. I mean, they do things, but he’s not getting any better.”

Someone had to break the news to him. “I don’t think anything we do is going to make him any better.”

“I want him to be better,” his brother furrowed his brows and took a deep breath.

You wanted the same. But for now, all you could do was keep Mithrun alive. As long as he ate and slept and breathed, that was good enough for now. That was all he could manage. 

You visited the Kerensil family home more often these days. You weren’t sure why, but you cared. When he screamed at night and scratched himself to the point of bleeding, you healed him without a word. When he got ahold of a kitchen knife and put it to his throat, you wrestled it away from him, then helped his brother install locks on all the cabinets and drawers. When Mithrun snuck out at night to go slaughter every goat within a 50 mile radius, you cleaned the blood from his hair and hands. 

You’d basically moved in. The captain had given you permission to dedicate time to Mithrun’s healing, since they would’ve liked to have him join again once he was better. To the other Canaries, this was part of your sentence. To you, this was part of your purpose. 

You and Mithrun talked a lot. You talked the most. He stayed quiet, so you weren’t sure if you could consider it as actually holding a conversation. You weren’t sure if he was even listening. But once, when you were softly explaining the importance of getting rune shapes exactly right, you stopped and stared at your hands. You’d begun to enter dark territory, the study of black magic that had brought you to this place in life. 

The silence stretched on for a minute or two before Mithrun tilted his head. His hair was splayed out on his pillow and his good eye was open, blinking, slightly alert. 

“Continue,” he said. 

So you continued. And he stared at the ceiling. And you knew that he was listening. He didn’t care, of course, but he was listening. 

One night, Mithrun nearly hit a vital organ with a piece of glass from the bathroom mirror that he’d shattered. 

You healed it, the light from your hands growing brighter than usual. Your shoulders were tense and you couldn’t help but scowl and growl and mutter. 

Mithrun just looked at you, “You know this isn’t what I want.”

“I don’t care,” you answered immediately.

He grit his teeth, “I don’t want to live.”

“I want you to live!” You exploded. He flinched backward, but no emotion passed over his face. He simply stared. You gulped down your feelings and continued healing him. 

Maybe that was selfish of you. You didn’t care. 

Milsiril was a mother. Milsiril was a caretaker. Milsiril was a toymaker and she knew how to wind them up and set them on the path again. 

“I’m ready to go back into the dungeon,” Mithrun said. His voice was still scratchy, but he was sitting up on his bed for once. He’d gained a few pounds and his shoulders weren’t sharp as knives anymore.

Milsiril only shook her head, “Not yet, I’m sorry.”

Mithrun looked at you as if he expected you to ally with him. You knew him the best, you knew what he wanted in life. You even knew what his secret desire was, the one he couldn’t admit to himself. 

You shook your head as well, “You’re still underweight and you haven’t quite gotten the hang of taking care of yourself yet.”

Mithrun’s expression only darkened, “Then let’s keep practicing.”

Where Milsiril was more concerned with making Mithrun socially acceptable enough to rejoin society, you were much more concerned about his living conditions, health, and dignity. It was a relief that he’d stopped trying to pick the locks on the knife drawer. It was not a relief that Mithrun was planning for his inevitable death against the demon— not that he’d admit that. 

He wanted different things now. No longer was his goal to die from withering away, but rather to die at the hands of the god who once served him. Still, it involved him dying. There was this feeling you had inside, comparable to the feeling you had when you were first being hunted by the Canaries. You knew it was inevitable that they would find you and jail you or make you join them. Anticipation rose in your chest until it finally burst when they tied up your wrists and clipped your ears. 

Now, anticipation was rising again. It had been rising for the last twenty or so years that you’d spent at Mithrun’s side. You could only wonder when it would burst, and when you’d end up as scraps on the floor like the shreds of a popped balloon. You could only wonder. 

When Mithrun rejoined the Canaries, you went with him. He said nothing about that. You were the one who cut his hair shorter for functionality reasons. You were the one who delivered his new uniform and made sure it fit. You were the one who sat on his back as he did push ups for training— which was actually the most fun with him you’d had in the last twenty years. It was kind of silly, but it was good to see him willing to do things like exercise and challenge himself, even if his end goal was just to reach the demon. 

There was a lot of teasing involved when you two returned to the Canaries. 

“Are you in love with him or something?” Helki asked behind his hand. He cast a glance at Mithrun, who was sitting nearby and silently staring out the window. 

You made a face, “With Mithrun? No. I love him, but not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He snorted, “You’ve been like his little wife for the last few decades.”

“I don’t think I would consider all that as wife-like,” you retorted. 

“Why do you do it, then?”

Was it truly so impossible for someone to comprehend caring for another individual without expecting something in return? Or not having a motive? You supposed there was a motive, but it wasn’t romance. You just… cared. You wanted him to stay alive and get better. And he was relatively better, now. Relatively. 

You patted Helki’s shoulder, “Because he’s my friend. Nothing more.”

You didn’t notice, but Mithrun’s head tilted. He always listened to you, even when you didn’t think so.

“Can you help her?” Flamela jutted a thumb toward where you and Mithrun sat. Her voice, louder than everybody else’s in the Canary’s headquarters, caught your attention. Mithrun kept his arms crossed and his gaze on the recruits training outside.

Cithis blinked in surprise. Her eyes landed on you and you returned the look with a hesitant smile. 

“It’s a lot to explain,” Flamela continued, “but Captain Mithrun needs help and [name] needs a break.”

Your brows furrowed. You hadn’t expressed needing a break before. You were fine. You liked taking care of Mithrun. Yet before you could protest, Flamela was already walking away. And Cithis stood there with her hands folded and her eyes curious, analyzing. 

Dread settled into your chest.

“You’re not some helpless baby, Mithrun,” you didn’t mean to yell, nor pace, nor gesture so wildly with your hands, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re not a dog, not a slave, not someone who can be exploited for entertainment! You’re a person and you deserve respect!”

Mithrun only raised a brow, “So, you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you snapped, sounding quite mad at him. Yet you pulled yourself together and took a deep breath, “No, Mithrun, I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault. I just wish people saw you as more than what you’re going through. You’re the damn Captain of the Canaries now, you’ve risen above some really tough shit and you’re capable and strong and—”

Lord. 

The realization hit you like a slap to the face. 

You froze, mouth hanging open, eyes on Mithrun. He only stared, as he tended to do, waiting for you to say something. But you couldn’t. You’d been slapped in the face by reality and now everything ached. 

“I’ve got to go,” you managed to squeak out before running toward the door. You left his bedroom behind and darted down the hallway of the Canaries Headquarters. You shared a room with a few other criminals, but they weren’t there when you burst inside and collapsed onto your bed. You were in your late 100’s yet there you were, screaming into your pillow like a 60 year old. 

You’re in love.

“I’m in love,” you said out loud, which you immediately regretted because that made things real. 

You’re in love. You’re in love. You’re in love and it hurts so much because Mithrun could never love you back. Were you a masochist? Probably. Your heart hurt. You suddenly understood the concept of heartbreak, it felt as if your heart was about to physically fall apart. Realizing that you’re in love should be a happy moment. It shouldn’t hurt so much. 

Alright, you decided. You’re going to ignore it like an adult. You’re going to take this secret to the grave. 

Captain Mithrun’s team was a mess. 

But they were fun. 

“Hey,” Lycion elbowed you one night at the dinner table. He leaned down to whisper while you were mid-bite of a piece of chicken. “Do you think the Captain would let me check out the fighting scene on that island? Like, we could put off the whole negotiations thing for a day so I can go see it?”

Mithrun personally wouldn’t care, you knew, but he would refuse Lycion’s request for the sake of getting into the dungeon faster. You swallowed your food and sent him a glance, “Why’re you asking me? Pattadol’s the one that does all the decision stuff with Mithru— the Captain.”

“But you know him best.”

True enough. Still, you were just the healer, still a criminal sentenced to another 40 or so years of Canary service. You sent Lycion an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I don’t think he would.”

“Can you ask him?” Lycion used that purring voice he always utilized on certain targets unwilling to obey. 

You remained unaffected, “I don’t see why you think me asking him would make a difference.”

“The Captain would do anything you asked!” He explained, “Within reason, of course. You’re his girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you forced the satisfaction down. “I’m not his girl. And he pretty much does whatever anyone tells him to do as long as it doesn’t interfere with his goals, so I’m not any different.”

“You’re blind,” Lycion muttered, “so blind.”

Mithrun had been pulled into the stupid pit thing or whatever with that stupid Kabru guy. You were going to pull your hair out. 

When he reunited with the Canaries, he actually looked rather well-taken care of. You begrudgingly admitted that Kabru may not be as stupid as you thought, but you couldn’t let go of your anger at the entire situation. You still wanted to pull your hair out, mostly because you were resisting the urge to wrap your arms around the Captain and squeeze until your bodies melted together. 

Mithrun noticed your stress and slowly approached you. He patted your head, “I’m fine,” he said. 

He could be shot in the chest and he’d still claim to be fine. 

“When this is all over,” you managed to say through the fog of anger and worry and adoration and fury, “we’re taking a holiday. We’ll go to the Eastern Archipelago and we’re sitting on the beach and we’re going to do very safe things like build sandcastles or take naps.”

Mithrun looked down at you. He stared, as was his tendency. Then he raised both brows and you thought that just for a second, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. An affectionate smile. Perhaps it was hopeful thinking, an illusion brought forth by stress. You weren’t sure. 

His hand that was on your head slowly ran down the side of your cheek and to your chin, lifting your face so you’d look at him. He didn’t hold you for long, though, letting his arm drop to his side when he had your attention. “When we have time, I will go where you go,” he said. 

You wanted to smack him in his stupid beautiful face for being so sweet. What was wrong with him? Was he in a good mood? You could only narrow your eyes in suspicion. 

Of course, Mithrun walked away after that, back to the mission at hand. Yet his words echoed. I will go where you go. 

That was more like something you would say to him. You’ve made the decision to be at his side for the last 40 years. You would follow him to the ends of the earth. 

Surely, he didn’t mean it. 

But then again, Mithrun wasn’t in the habit of lying unless it served his purpose. And he wouldn’t lie to you, of all people. Surely not. 

The demon was gone and Mithrun had lost his purpose in life. 

How scary, you thought. How terrifying to lose your one reason for living. You’d most likely be on the ground, slumped up against a tree and expecting to wither away just like him. But unlike you, Mithrun had people who cared for him, who wouldn’t accept that fate for him, who loved him. 

Senshi and Kabru said their pieces. The Canaries all agreed with a chorus of encouragement and opinions and friendship. 

You offered your hand, like you always did, like you’d been doing for the last four decades. 

He took it. 

Mithrun placed his hand in yours. And the anticipation bubble that had been building in your chest for so long finally popped. But you were okay. It was okay. He was okay. 

Mithrun pardoned you, surprisingly. You told him that wasn’t necessary and that he should use his pardon on someone else who had a longer sentence. There were only 40 years left for you. Surely they wouldn’t be as long as the last 40 years had been. 

“No, it's you I want,” Mithrun said rather casually, “you’re staying with me in Melini.”

He wanted something. He wanted you. 

You forced yourself to stay upright, “Alright. If you insist.”

Living with Mithrun in this state was very different. It was fun, heartbreaking, difficult, easy, calm, chaotic. Some days, he laid in bed and stared at the wall. Other days, he made noodles and walked through the forest and sat on the beach with you, doing very safe things like building sandcastles and taking naps. Many people in town assumed you two were married. You always corrected them, Mithrun never did. 

He observed monsters and would need healing sometimes. You would push up the sleeve of his tunic and trace your fingers along old scars, none of them perfect. Then, heal him, as you tend to do. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Mithrun asked one day. 

You looked up to meet his eyes. Ink black, your favorite color. “What?”

“You can spend your life any way you want now,” he explained, his voice flat, “you’re free. I’m not your burden anymore.”

Your heart clenched in your chest. “You have never been a burden to me.”

“I used to hate you for keeping me alive.”

“I know.”

“And you never hated me?”

“I sometimes did,” you admitted softly, fingers tracing over his skin. You recalled this certain scar, from a pair of scissors you wrestled out of his hands at two in the morning years ago. “But it was the kind of hate that only stems from love.”

“You have always treated me like a human,” Mithrun murmured. His free hand went to your chin and lifted your face, “Like someone that deserves to live. You loved me despite my inability to give you anything in return. But I’m able now,” he leaned closer, “so allow me this.”

Damn. That had to be the first time you’d ever heard Mithrun say anything like tha—

He was kissing you.

It took you a moment to realize what was happening. His lips were on yours and your heart felt as if it might explode. Your hands shook as you raised them, eventually finding their way to his hair. That felt right. This was right. He deepened the kiss, slowly pushing forward. It was slow and careful and calm. It held so many words that neither of you were able to say. As he gently ran his hand up your thigh and to your hips, you couldn’t help but shiver. 

40 years of longing accumulated into this moment. In a dark house in a new kingdom in a demon-free world, you started something new, and for once it wasn’t difficult at all. 

[in-kaeya-we-thrust]

Hate or Love?

tags/warnings: iruma x gn!reader, evil cycle iruma-kun, royal one arc, demon reader, haters to lovers

Sypnosis: Iruma was focused on obtaining Royal One when a certain demon caught his attention. Now, he has two goals: (1) get royal one, (2) get Y/N.

Requested by @saelvrr

evil cycle iruma collection: purple iruma, breathless

It's your break time and you're chatting with your friend, Saeko, as you walk. Saeko bubbly skipped through the halls with a bright smile. Your heart swelled at the sight. When you first met her, she was timid and shy, being the introvert she is. She was the same when you first asked her to eat with you at lunch, barely speaking a word. Now that you've become close, she became more confident and started talking and smiling more. You swore to Delkira that you'll destroy any demon who'll take that precious smile away.

"Ah!"

"How dare you disrespect Iruma-sama!!"

You blinked twice, making sure your eyesight isn't going bad. What... just happened? Just earlier you were just having a peaceful walk. But now, your friend's now on the ground with Asmodeus Alice glaring at her, hand covered in flames.

You quickly helped your friend to stand up and hid her behind you, facing the Dalet-ranked student in front. You feel your mana building up in your veins from rage. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"She disrespected Iruma-sama! And I didn't even do anything, she fell on her own." he explained.

"Of course she'll be afraid! You're threatening her with fire." you said in gritted teeth.

Getting pissed, you extinguished his magic using your own. Just like how Asmodeus can summon flames using his mana, you can manipulate water or any liquid and use them to your favor. Thus, your bloodline magic is a bad match for his. Asmodeus was surprised by this. Aside from Iruma, you were the second demon that dared to oppose him.

He activated his flames again but this time, you summoned a huge water blob and dropped it directly on top of him, drenching the said student. Of course, he was pissed by this. He tried summoning his flames again but to his surprise, his magic didn't activate.

"That's what you get for playing with fire." You smirked at the confusion plastered on the high ranking demon's face. How's that for you? Asmodeus was about to speak again when Iruma came to the front, cutting him off.

"Now, now, let's calm down, shall we?" Asmodeus automatically stepped back, making way for his so-called 'Iruma-sama.' Your brows raised at the sight of him. So the rumors about him undergoing his evil cycle were true.

"Why don't you say that to your friend?" you responded.

Iruma looked back to Asmodeus in drenched uniform and stifled a laugh. "I think he's had enough punishment for today." Asmodeus flushed at the teasing of his master. Then, he turned to you again. No, he's looking at something else, something behind you. "There might be some misunderstanding going on here. Can your friend explain what happened?" he smiled, though you doubt it was genuine.

Saeko squeeked and just hid herself more behind you, being the shy person she is. You let out a breath and softly tapped her behind you, urging her to talk. "I-I just wanted to ask you them step aside. They were all in the way. Then Asmodeus-san thought I was being rude and put up a flame to protect Iruma."

"You hear that?" you asked Iruma in an annoyed voice. Surprisingly, he nodded and told the abnormal class to step aside, paving a way for the two of you. You heard a couple of whispers in the halls, not only from the abnormal class, but also from the other demons watching the commotion.

You crossed your arms and approached Asmodeus for one last time. You clenched his collar and pulled him down, levelling your gaze. "Hurt my friend again and I'll make sure you'll never make a single spark again."

With that, you let him go and pulled your friend away from the misfits. The two of you walked pass the whole abnormal class and other demons, not minding their stares.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes followed your silhouette until you disapepared from the hallway. Iruma was star strucked. It's not a first for him to witness a demon to assert their dominance in a duel but it's a first for him to be this interested with someone.

"Azz-azz, here's a giant tissue!"

"Stupid Valac, no!"

Iruma looked back to see the chaos between his two friends. Asmodeus is now lying on the ground covered with a pile of huge tissues. He laughed, and with a snap of his fingers, the tissues disappeared. He helped his friend up but was shocked to see that his uniforms were still wet, even though all the tissues have already absorbed THAT much water. Just what spell did you throw at him?

"Are you okay, Alice?" Iruma asked out of concern.

"Y-Yes, Iruma-sama. Thank you for your concern. Also, I deeply applogize for disgracing your name like that earlier." Alice bowed, face flushed.

"It's okay. If you're really sorry... then do me a favor." Iruma's lips turned into a playful smirk.

"As you wish, Iruma-sama! Anything!"

"Find out everything about that demon."

The next day came and you wished that you'll never cross paths with the abnormal class ever again, but that seems impossible considering how they're scattered throughout the school grounds, collecting letters of approval. They did make an impossible deal with Kalego-sensei afterall, according to the rumors. Despite that, you were NOT expecting to see Iruma to be standing in front of your classroom's door.

What the hell is he doing here?!

He was leaning by the door frame with hands in his pockets. Your classmates, especially the girls, were gushing all over him. Funny how they didn't pay him any attention when he was all fluffy and cute. Not that you found him cute before his evil cycle. Since he was surrounded by students, you took the chance to sneak into your room, hoping he wouldn't see you.

"Y/N," You flinched at the mention of your name, making you stop on your tracks. You heard footsteps approaching your direction.

You let out a deep sigh before facing the demon. "What do you want?"

He smiled, eyes squinting from the action, and took one hand out of his pocket to give you a little wave. "Good morning,"

"That's it?" you gave him a doubtful look.

"Yep, that's it. I hope you enjoy your day, Y/N-san." With that, he left.

Okay, weirdo.

You just shrugged and proceeded to take your seat. A few of your classmates approached you, curious at the interaction. "Oh, I didn't know you're acquainted with Iruma-kun, Y/N-san!!"

"I'm not." you answered dryly.

Now that you've mentioned it... did you ever tell him your name? You recollected your memories of yesterday's incident and you never announced your name in front of the abnormal class. So, how? Oh, Delkira, please don't tell me I'm on the abnormal class' naughty list.

You heard from your classmates that the misfits are working their asses off for the acquisition of Royal One. For sure, Iruma won't have any time to mess with you anymore, right?

Lunch time came and you just sat down on an empty table in the cafeteria with when three demons decided to join you. Saeko looked pale at the sight of the famous Babylys trio.

"Hi, Y/N-chi! Let's eat lunch together, yayy!!" Valac said in enthusiasm.

"Saeko, let's go," Without hestitation, you grabbed your friend's hand. You were just about to stand and escape when you felt a hand on your shoulder along with the soft whisper of fractal. Your body suddenly felt heavy, grounding you to your seat.

"It's rude to leave the table in the middle of a meal." Iruma sat down beside you.

"Iruma," you glared at him.

Is he really torturing you for making his friend wet himself?!

You were shocked at the sight of his spacious plate. The Iruma you know has a large appetite. "I guess your evil cycle did really change you, huh?"

"Oh, this? This is just an appetizer." He chuckled. In a snap of his fingers, dozens of dishes flooded your table with the courtesy of the canteen staff.

"Ha! That's what you get for underestimating Iruma-sama." Asmodeus gleamed as he praised his friend.

You created another blob of water and made it float on top of his head, a few water drops threatening to fall. Asmodeus gulped as he stared on the water on top of his head. "Keep your mouth shut if you want to keep your expensive clothes dry."

Asmodeus 'tsked' snd silently continued his meal. The whole table was silent for a few moments, not until you heard Iruma mutter something under his breath. "So you we're watching me from back then, huh?"

"Please, with the commotion you're making everyday, it's hard to not watch you." you said nonchalantly.

Suddenly, Iruma's phone rang. In fact, he looked annoyed when he answered the call. Must be about Royal One. He quickly finished the remaining food on the table afterwards. You don't know why but Iruma didn't look like he wanted to leave.

"Awww, you're leaving already?" you pouted, voice laced with sarcasm.

Iruma-kun looked amused at your pouting face. "Don't worry, you'll be seeing more of me in the next few days." he smirked and patted your shoulder.

Iruma was about to walk away when you grabbed his wrist, making him look back. He gave you an amused yet curious look. "What is it, princess? Miss me already?"

You grimaced at the pet name. "At least undo your fractal spell before leaving, you bastard."

"Oh? I already lifted the spell from the moment we started eating. Dining with me was on your own volition." he smirked. "Now will you excuse me, my classmates need me." Iruma gently removed your hand from his wrist and gave it a little squeeze.

"Bye-bye, Y/N-chi!!"

Your hands shook in anger, making you break your chopsticks in half. You felt Saeko tap your shoulder, consoling you.

In the afternoon, you came across with some of the abnormal class: Lied, Elizabetta, and Jazz. You quickened your pace at the sight of the said demons.

"Oh! Isn't that Y/N-san! Hi!!" Lied shouted.

You sighed, faced them, and accepted your fate. "Hi, if you're going to make me suffer, can you do it after I bring these papers to Balam-sensei?" you requested in a tired voice.

"Huh, why would we do that?" Jazz asked. The three misfits looked at you with surprised looks on their faces.

"Don't y'all hate me for picking on your friend like that?"

The three of them quickly shook their head.

"Hate is a big word, don't you know?" Elizabetta said.

"Besides, you did that because you we're just looking out for your friend right? You didn't do anything wrong." Lied added.

You let out a sigh of relief at their words. So they don't hate you. Thank Delkira. "I hope the same goes for Iruma." you muttered under breath.

Unfortunately, Jazz heard that. "Iruma-kun doesn't hate you though?"

"Huh? But he has been bugging me since this morning and ugh he's definitely doing it on purpose." you grunted.

"That Iruma... it's one demon after another..." Lied clenched his fists and whispered something you didn't hear.

"Haven't you consider that maybe he's just flirting with you?" Elizabetta asked.

"..."

"W-What?!" Your face turned red as a tomato.

You and the misfits separated ways since they still have a lot of things on their plate and you still have to deliver the papers to the faculty room. Balam sensei even asked if you're feeling well due to your flushed face. You're definitely not feeling well. There was no way... right? You recalled the things he did today. He greeted you good morning, ate with you at lunch, and even gave you a bouquet of Salamander flowers which almost burned your hair down.

So, he wasn't mad at you...? You don't know if you're relieved or more stressed after knowing that.

You were walking down the halls when you heard noise from the student council's room, the door slightly open. Being the curious demon you are, you decided to take a peak.

"So, won't you help me, Ameri!"

Your mouth hung open at the sight of Iruma-kun enclosing the student council president on a wall. Their faces were so close with each other, it almost looked like they were kissing. You don't know why but you felt a weird feeling inside you. You kinda wished you didn't look.

The next day came and Iruma didn't visit your classroom in the morning. Okay, that was good, you guess. Finally, he's done pestering you. Maybe he and Ameri-san finally got together?

"Y/N-chan, are you okay?" Saeko looked at you with worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you answered in a low tone.

"Are you sad that you didn't see Iruma-kun this morning?"

"W-What?! Why would you think that??" you whisper-shouted.

"I don't know, didn't you have a crush on Iruma-kun?" Saeko pointed out with a small smile.

"I do?" you pointed at yourself.

"You always had a smile on your face everytime you read the school's paper with Iruma at the front page."

Oh.

OH.

"I have a crush on Iruma???" you asked, realization kicking in. Then, you suddenly regained your senses and pretended to be stern. "With his current attitude, I don't think I do." You crossed your arms.

"Okay, if you say so,"

After your class with Suzi-sensei, she asked if you could help her in gardening. Of course, you agreed and followed her to Babylys' green house. You figured that reconnecting with nature help you soothe your stress about Iruma.

or maybe not.

When you arrived, Agares and Gaap were already there, and of course, their leader had to be there with them.

Iruma was just about to leave when he suddenly caught a sight of you walking towards the garden with Suzi-sensei. It looks like you still haven't realized that he was also there. He hadn't seen you since yesterday and seeing you right now made him think that maybe God was doing him a favor (if God's powers extend upto the Netherworld). He immediately picked the prettiest flower from the garden and hid it behind his back.

"Oh, isn't it the most esteemed 'Y/N-san'." To be honest, Iruma feels nervous every time he talks to you. He wouldn't be able to do this if he was his usual self.

Now to back to your point of view, your face remained blank, trying to put up a facade. You didn't know what to react after finding out that you had a crush on him and after seeing that... You automatically rolled your eyes upon remembering the scene. How cliche.

"Don't you have better things to do? Like you know, collecting letters of approval apart from the teaching staff?" you said in a playful tone.

"Other than the teaching staff...?" he asked, as if he was surprised.

Your brows raised. "Duh? The faculty is not only composed of the teaching staff. Even janitors are faculty members." you stated the obvious. But to them, it looked like they just found out about this fact. Iruma grunted and pinched his nose bridge, looking a little stressed.

"Yeah, you're right. Looks like I still have a lot to do." Iruma sighed. He said something to Agares and Gaap before walking towards you. Suddenly, he pulled out a flower from his back and placed it behind your ear. You were about to complain when he spoke again. "Don't worry, this won't ruin your hair."

You were stunned. You felt like everything around you stopped at that very moment. Your felt your heart race as you inhale his unique perfume with Iruma heing that close to you. When he was done, you immediately looked away, as if that would hide your flushed face.

Before you know it, you muttered words that surprised even yourself. "Did you also do this with the president?"

He didn't respond for a few seconds. You wish you could see his expression though. Is he shocked? Does he look guilty? Is he smirking? But you were so flustered that you can't even look at him right now. Suddenly, he placed his hand on top of your head.

"I'm only like this with you, Y/N."

With that, he walked away, leaving you in the garden. You exhaled and burried your face in your hands. You swore you were on the about to explode earlier. You have the ability to control water and yet you feel your heart on fire.

"Y/N-san! Can you please help with softening the soil?"

"Coming!!"

You didn't hear from Iruma the whole day. You assumed the abnormal class' efforts doubled after finding out that they need approval letters from the EVERY staff of Babylys. The third day came, marking the deadline of their deal with Kalego-sensei.

"Y/N! Let's go to the faculty room!" Your friend Saeko happily skipped towards your seat.

"Huh? We have classes, Saeko."

"We can always skip them??" she gave you a sheepish smile.

You let out a fake gasp. You even covered your mouth for more drama. "Saeko! I didn't know you were a delinquent?"

"Oh, come on! This is the first time we're actually going to break the school rules! Besides, it's for Iruma so it's worth it!" Saeko grabbed your wrist and pulled you up from your seat.

You rolled your eyes and just smiled while you two ran to the faculty room. As expected, a group of students gathered in front of the room. You joined them, hoping to eavesdrop from the conversation inside. It was quiet, you can barely hear a single word from their conversation. Then suddenly, victorious shouts were heard from inside, indicating the abnormal class' success.

You couldn't help but smile. Good job, Iruma-kun.

The next day came and rumors greeted you as you enter the school gates.

"I heard Iruma's back to normal!!"

"Valac and Asmodeus look so cute clinging to Iruma like that!!"

Iruma's back to his cute self again. You felt relieved but also sad at the same time. Guess your interactions with Iruma now comes to an end, huh? You hate to admit it but, you were happy that you were able to hang out (if you can even call it that) with Iruma in the past few days. But the thought that his actions were only driven by his evil cycle haunts you.

However, to your surprise, you found Iruma, the cute, fluffy, ball of sunshine Iruma-kun, standing outside your room. When he finally saw you, his cheeks turned pink. "Y-Y-Y/N-san, Goob morbning!" he was stuttering as hell.

His nervousness somehow transmitted to you, making you feel shy around him. You gave him a nod and greeted him back. "Good morning, Iruma-san... What are you doing here?"

Iruma fidgeted with his fingers, and looked away from your gaze. Then, he took a deep breath and looked back, straight into your eyes.

"Can we talk?"

You and Iruma found yourselves under a random tree. It was quiet, cherry blossoms from the plant he made a few months ago falling down on the background. There was a moment of silence before Iruma finally took the courage to talk. "I'm sorry for what I did in the past few days!!"

You were torn between laughing and feeling sorry for him when you found him kneeling with his forehead on the ground. He looked like a cute, helpless puppy. You bent down and lightly patted his head, making him flinch a little. "It's okay. You were in your evil cycle afterall. It's not like you're in control of your own actions during that time." you reassured him.

Iruma-kun slowly looked up, tears welling up in his eyes. Then, he stood up and composed himself. He took another deep breath and bowed again.

"I already told you, it's okay. No need to-" you paused. Since when did he have flowers in his hands?

"I want to properly ask you this time. Y/N-san, will you please go out with me?"

[pospoets]

AU where javier is related to berkis

(no this is definitely not an excuse to ramble about Dragon Javier x Lloyd /j)

aka half-dragon or quarter-dragon Javier, i was just talking about my friend (Nyan) about this and i'd just throw some headcanons about this AU.

So basically Javier obviously have some dragon features aka slitted eyes and scales hidden by his ruffly hair, he also has some Sharp teeths like a dragon.

This also gives an explanation to how Javier is multi-talented in many things or how strong he is and how quickly he improved with mana-related stuff.

Okay let's get to my fav part, their dragon instincts.

Dragons like shiny stuff right? So Javier would, let's say, give Lloyd some shiny things at some point as a courting gift. But the thing is that none of them realizes it, not even Javier because he thinks that's normal.

One thing i've noticed from the author of Tged is that they usually give the dragons lovers that are suited in taking care of chores, berkis with (obviously) Chung, Berkis's mother with Berkis's father who's babygirl/hj, and - wait let's not count solitas, he doesn't have any. So Javier would probably (and subconsciously) look for a partner that can take care of chores, house stuff, and also he would also look for someone who's strong so they can protect his offsprings. (It is ingrained in his genes)

but then I thought, "Aren't Lloyd's summons basically his children?" And then went "Wait oh my God"

Javier would count Lloyd as a suitable Lover, I'm not even kidding, this guy would accept courting gifts from Javier because he just thinks that's how Javier shows his gratefulness. Lloyd takes care of the summon like his childrens, he's also stronger than average so he could probably protect the summons if needed.

Javier didn't even realize he's fallen for this man and had started courting him dragon-style.

I'm thinking of a scene where Lloyd just speaking with one of his summon and then said: "what? You're asking for a new playmate? Alright then." And then Javier just stares at him as he crosses off one of his list: "can take care of childrens" Subconsciously.

[prime-adeptus]

ONE LOVE, ONE LIFETIME – YONE X READER

“Well, if you decide to come back here one day,” you said, reaching for his hand. Your skin felt warm against his own. “Just know that I’ll be here waiting for you.” Or, the one where Yone fell first.

CONTENT.⠀female reader; romance, light angst and hurt/comfort, family issues, elitism in the family (yeah), Asshole Father bc I have problems, family member death, very heavily implied that MC was an accident baby, talks about death and the afterlife on yone's end, brief talks of arranged marriage, allusions to misogyny. + Spirit Blossom AU with some changes to fit the narrative. ~11k words

NOTES.⠀I wanted to finish this before I start properly using the break so woe ~20 pages be upon ye. I've had this in my drafts for ages and it took longer than I would've liked but! we made it! this is a gift for my beloved @kakujis, a dear friend and my Shimada Liker in Arms. <3 I hope you enjoy!!

divider by cafekitsune | cross-posted on ao3

Pride and honour stood above all else.

Such a lesson was established in your clan from the moment of its founding, forging ahead generations of noble swordsmen who have never strayed from their paths. Every child born into the family is bound to duty, raised and trained by the elite until they are seen as ready for the battles ahead of them. Pride flowed in your veins and you were taught to believe that what you bleed is your negligence. Honour is engraved in your bones, down to the marrow—strong as the seas, and immovable as the mountains.

Every child of your family knows this by heart, including you, the broken one. The odd one out. The blemish on what would otherwise be a pristine reputation.

Born without the same mana or prowess that all of your brothers possessed, you were deemed a flawed child undeserving of the honour of your family name. Fate restricted you from following the path you wished to take as soon as they decided on where your life began. How was it fair at all to put such a heavy burden on a child’s shoulders? On someone who hadn’t opened their eyes for the first time yet?

You craved to learn the ways of a warrior, to be someone the younger generation could trust and look up to. Instead, you were scorned in your own home by a family that was hellbent on upholding tradition and their position among the elite. All because you were born differently. Anything said about you was always done in contempt, especially from your own flesh and blood—your father, your brothers, and your sisters.

‘You are not my child.’ It was your father’s way of saying he didn’t want himself or his beloved sons associated with you, his flesh and blood. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. So long as he and the oh-so-esteemed council were alive, you would never be seen as a part of the family. So long as he continued to breathe, he would look down on you as much as he could. And yet, even though he so explicitly despised you, you still did everything you could so you could be worth his time.

A fruitless endeavour. He held your weakness over your head, his glare a constant reminder of how he’d always see you as a failure. You would never be enough. You wanted to leave, but where would you go? Without your family name, you had nothing. With your name, all you were was a bastard. You were bound to a home that didn’t welcome you.

‘You are not my child.’ You didn’t want to be.

You wished you had the chance to meet your mother. She abandoned you on the doorstep, they would say whenever you asked about her, your father saved you. It wasn’t until years later that you learned the truth. She never abandoned you—she was threatened, forbidden from stepping foot inside the mansion again. You used to wish she had fought more and taken you with her, but the more you grew, the more you understood. Whatever fury you harboured towards her dwindled like a flame dying on its own.

She didn’t have a choice. You knew firsthand what that felt like. Everything the elders said was law; within these walls, there was no going against them. They saw her as disposable, a lowly commoner who just happened to earn the affection of a nobleman for a night. And dispose of her they did. As the midwife took you away, your mother was sent off to another city in a carriage that never returned. No one spoke of her again. Whether it was by command or a collective agreement, you weren’t sure.

There were times when her name would come up in hushed whispers. Some of them were from your father. You remember being six years old and listening to your father’s drunk mumbling. With a hand on your head, he told you that you looked just like your mother. It was the gentlest he’d ever been with you. But when the inebriation left his system the next morning, your loving father was gone, and the patriarch was back.

His soft tone became harsh once again. His eyes burned with hatred. It was as if everything was just a dream. It might as well have been. You chalked it up to him having a bad day, just like yesterday and the day before that. Surely he’d be kind to you again if he drank.

He wasn’t.

And as if taking your mother away wasn’t already enough of a mockery, you were constantly reminded that this was not your home. That you were here because you belonged to the clan. You’ve always been. You were already their property from the moment you inhaled your first breath.

Your life was theirs, but even that wasn’t enough.

(You don’t think you’ll ever be.)

A child in a loveless family. Your father thought it wasn’t worth trying to train you, having decided that you were beyond help. Your brothers didn’t see you as someone they had to protect. Your sisters didn’t want to be seen with you. All you had were your grandparents.

With them, you were treated as family. It didn’t matter to them that you didn’t have what your siblings did. They loved you.

You spent mornings in the apothecary room with your grandmother, learning all about herbs and medicine from all around the world. In the afternoon, you’d spend time training with your grandfather in the dojo and listening to his stories of ages past. Then, every evening, you’d spend time with both of them at the temple that they cared for. All of your best memories were made there. When your grandparents inevitably passed, you didn’t hesitate to pick up from where they left off.

Your volunteering to maintain its upkeep seemed to satisfy the elders enough. At least you’ll be useful in something, your father said without batting an eye. You liked to think you’d become numb to all the jabs thrown your way, but you were wrong.

The temple was your getaway, somewhere you could hide from the world and feel more at home than you did in the estate. The smell of flowers and herbs inside the temple, alongside the sight of the sunrise or sunset, never failed to lull you into a state of tranquillity. The voices you’d hear from around you weren’t those of disappointment, but those of birds chirping in a joyous tune. It was the only place you’ll ever feel at peace in. Seeing the names of your grandparents engraved on the stone slabs broke your heart whenever you walked by. You might not grieve any more, but you were still alone.

Ionian faith and tradition flowed in your veins. You were taught about grace by your grandmother and what it meant to be dignified, worthy of respect even without noteworthy achievements. Your grandfather taught you strength and combat so you could protect yourself and others from monsters, both human and unknown. You wouldn’t have gotten the chance to learn the blade elsewhere. He was more than enthusiastic to pass on his knowledge to you. He’d grown weak with age, he said, but you’ve always thought he was the greatest swordsman you know. Aside from the temple, the dojo was where you felt the happiest, but as always, good things never lasted long for you.

In your world, secrets were nearly impossible to have. Spies and traitors lurked in the walls, engraving every decision you made and every word you spoke into their memory. It didn’t take long for your father to find out about the lessons his father had been giving you. In fury, he forbade you from entering the dojo or holding a weapon again and told you that you didn’t deserve to carry on his father’s legacy. Forced to leave behind your passion and descend into monotony, the art of the blade eventually left your mind. Had you just fought back—

No. Not everything was under your control. As long as you were in your father’s home, he would continue to treat you however he liked. The cruel words will keep being said, behind your back and to your face, but you won’t give them the satisfaction. You swore not to let anyone see you at your weakest again. You hated the name that you bear, but you would honour it the way you were taught to. The world might be against you, but there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Staying hopeful in a place like Ionia was all you could do.

Dawn always comes after dusk. The sun always rises for a new day. You didn’t see why it should be any different for you.

—

Your days got busier as the Spirit Blossom festival approached.

More and more people came to honour their loved ones every day, praying and making offerings to their ancestors for protection. You weren’t sure if you ever attended the festival yourself. You knew of the legends and stories behind it, of its reasons and purposes, but you had only been a bystander. You couldn’t see spirits even if you wanted to anyway, you thought bitterly, so there wasn’t a way for you to see your grandparents again.

‘In the Spirit Blossom festival, the dead reunite with their loved ones until the afterlife calls for them again.’

Whether or not it was possible to see said spirits, it was still hard to ignore the longing in your heart. The cycle of life and death was not unknown (you were more familiar with it than you’d like) but you didn’t think anyone could ever get used to it. You loved deeply, and when the ones you love are taken away from you, you’re left alone with yourself. You weren’t a stranger to partaking in as many tasks as possible to stop needlessly thinking, either. You spent your entire morning doing chores and running errands for this reason. You needed to keep yourself busy so you could drift away just for a little while.

With all of your tasks completed, you had nothing left to do. Leaves were swept into neat piles that the farmers always came to pick up later per routine. It took longer than you would’ve liked, though you supposed it was bound to happen when the workload wasn’t meant for one person, but two. The other shrine maiden had an ‘urgent matter to attend to,’ as her messenger informed you and left. You knew right away she paid him to cover for her. You’d like to think you mellowed out with age, having lived for almost three decades, but you were wrong. You were just as easy to irk as you were as a child.

‘It’s not a good thing to harbour negativity in a sacred place,’ your grandmother’s voice rang in your head, ‘it brings bad luck.’ But there you stood, the most irate you’ve ever been as you wished a terrible week upon the both of them.

Thanks to the tedious work done in all your lonesome, the tile flooring within the temple was spotless. The altar was dusted and reorganised, ready to accept the next batch of offerings. The place smelled more like soap than the usual floral incense you were used to. On any other day, you’d return to your quarters after such a productive time, maybe read a book before you go to sleep, but nature had other plans in store.

The wind howled and rain started to pitter-patter against the rooftop while the sun began its descent. Silhouettes of nature and man-made structures were the only company you had as you made your way back into the prayer room. Away from the rain, you idly watched the world go by from inside. You remembered your grandfather telling you about his battles in a storm and how tumultuous it had been. The retellings of his past exploits were your favourite stories to listen to in your childhood. He travelled through the lands and protected those he held dear with honour. He lived a life of pride and accomplishments that you wanted to have in yours. You still did.

A singular incense stick burnt in the centre of the bowl of ash and sand, its smoke disappearing into the air as it did so. The air grew colder as the sun set, painting the sky in warm hues and your skin in gooseflesh. The storm outside threatened to extinguish the flames within the lantern posts outside. Your uniform robe and long skirt, despite its many layers and the fabric, didn’t aid much in shielding you from the cold. A shiver ran down your spine from the sudden drop in temperature.

If you were asked what you disliked about this time of the year, you would say the weather’s unpredictability as the veil was lifted. The day started pleasantly; the sun was bright and the spring breeze was refreshing. There was no way you could’ve known that there would be a storm approaching.

The doors slammed shut with a loud bang, making you jump in fright and instinctively reach for a sword you no longer owned. You frowned. Years had passed since you last held a weapon, and you weren’t sure if your body had any memory of it at all. If danger were to actually happen, your only means of defence would be the old wooden broom in the corner, which you doubted made for a good weapon. Still, you found yourself keeping it close, your fingers curling tightly around the handle. It was better to be safe than sorry. You were fortunate enough to live in a densely populated area that was well protected, but as typical of an Ionian village, worse things awaited after sunset.

You were a cautious person for as long as you could remember. As optimistic as you tried to be, you weren’t exactly so convinced that there was such a thing as a safe haven. So long as peace exists, so will chaos, and with chaos comes things that are out of your control. You were taught to let things progress the way fate and nature intended them to, to let go of your anxieties because you always worried over ‘nothing.’

But that was easier said than done. You worried for a reason. Everything happens for a reason. Fate weaves the threads of life the way it wants to. The strong are led to lives of fame and power, and the blessed are led to lives of love and fortune. But you weren’t strong or blessed, you were cursed. If the Creator put you on earth for a reason, what is it? What path does fate want you to take, and what did you do in your past life to be put in such a suffocating position?

The anxiety at the pit of your stomach grew stronger the longer you observed the forest and the shadows in between. In the daylight, the temple was comforting and tranquil, picturesque, but it hadn’t occurred to you until then how daunting it was in the dark. It was a quiet night, eerily so, and the floorboards creaked beneath your feet as you padded into the prayer area. Tentatively, you placed the broom down and knelt before the statues of the gods you worshipped. The incense burnt itself down to the base, gradually putting out the flame on its own.

‘If you are afraid, pray. The gods will protect you.’

You weren’t a child anymore. Monsters only existed in stories—there was nothing to be afraid of. But the feeling persisted and it became worse as the door swung open and slammed against the wall. You heard something breathing.

It wasn’t the wind.

A low growl rumbled from the chest of whatever was stalking towards you. An animal of some sort. A predator. Your mind screamed at you to just run, but you were terrified, you couldn’t move and your body just wouldn't listen—

It drew closer.

You were going to die, ripped apart by a monster, and it was going to hurt more than anything ever had. Squeezing your eyes shut, you muttered a prayer under your breath in hopes that it would help. Maybe it was a spirit that couldn’t pass on. If you prayed for it, you could alleviate its pain and then be left alone. You were frantic, the words coming out incoherent as you got tongue-tied and struggled to remember the rest of them. When you felt it breathing down the back of your neck, your voice died in a choked whine. It watched you with hunger and it raised its claws with murderous intent, ready to slash.

It never did.

Instead, you heard the gargling of blood, followed by a clatter on the floor. Your body finally listened and you turned around to see what you could only describe as a demon. The glow in its mask’s eyes dimmed as it died with a sword speared through its chest, inches away from your face. In terror, you watched it bleed as the crimson splattered on your skin. It crumbled into dust as if it was never there. Just like that, it was dead and gone.

The mask dropped where your saviour stood. Wordlessly, he picked it up and attached it to a grotesque belt adorned with similar faces. All you could do was watch as everything slowly sank in. The downpour became louder, heavier. Your ears rang and your body felt numb. The only sound you heard was your ragged breathing as you tried to calm down and think. This must be a nightmare. It had to be. It had to be a hallucination from your paranoia and lack of sleep.

You closed your eyes and opened them again. The man was still standing in front of you.

You weren’t dreaming.

It was all real, from the blood splattered on the ground to the man in front of you. Half of his face was covered by a red mask, more menacing than what the monster had worn. Bandages were loosely wrapped around his torso and his arms, revealing some of his pale skin and scars from what could only be combat.

You weren’t dreaming.

A monster you had never seen tried to kill you and you were lucky enough that this man came to save your life. It felt as though your mind stopped entirely. You didn’t know where to start. Were you supposed to ask about the monster or ask about him?

You decided on the latter. “How did you know it was here?”

A beat of silence passed, and then he spoke.

“It is my curse to bear.”

That didn’t really answer your question. You attempted to ask again, but one glance at his face made you realise that he didn’t care about answering them. It was essentially impossible to tell what he was thinking and you’d rather not agitate someone as intimidating as him.

“Thank you,” you opted to say instead.

Your gaze landed on the swords in his hands. Blood was still dripping off of the red blade that seemed to be glowing. If his mask was menacing, his blades were worse—you had never seen anything quite like them.

He didn’t respond. All he gave you was a nearly imperceptible nod, a sign of acknowledgement. Seemingly satisfied with his kill, he made the move to leave, and your thoughts ran rampant. You wanted answers, an explanation, anything to make sense out of what happened.

You should let him go. You should run home before you encounter another one of those things again when you’re not as lucky, but you didn’t.

“Wait!” you called out, louder than you intended. “Teach me how to fight.”

He stopped in his tracks, then slightly looked back at you. The action had you fidgeting nervously. There was a gut feeling that he was going to say—

“No.”

You needed him to teach you. He was strong. He knew what those things were and how to kill them. He could help you. If that thing could come in here so easily, undeterred by the protective runes and wards placed around the temple, another could do it again. You couldn’t afford to let this place get destroyed because of your inability to defend it. You needed to protect your grandparents’ memory, a small sliver of their legacy that you were allowed to touch. You had to.

The chance was falling out of your hands right in front of you. Your confidence wavered, but you tried again. “I… I’ll pay you. Just name your price.”

“Money has no value to me.”

“Please?” Your voice was quieter, more hesitant. “This place, it’s… It’s all I have left. I need to protect it.”

“I can’t,” he said. “I have a duty I must fulfil.”

“Please—wait!”

This time, he didn’t spare you another glance as he walked off into the night, leaving you afraid and alone with the monster’s blood still on your skin.

—

No matter how many years passed, Yone’s hands would always be stained in blood.

The village was different from what he remembered. He knew of it when it was in flames and scattered with bodies of the brave. With what little time it had after the war, the village has been rebuilt from the disaster that the Noxians left behind. It was stronger, safer, liberated from their clutches. More swordsmen and warriors were patrolling the area, all bearing the crest of the clan that owned the village itself.

That didn’t. The clan of where men were raised to be elite warriors and women were raised to be the most adept of mages, known for their noble blood and valiance. Their estate was fortified and bigger than it used to be, looming over the smaller houses that unsurprisingly didn’t get as much protection. What seemed to be the most protected, though, was the temple. It was known to be a sanctuary to the villagers and the most important value to them was faith. Seeing said sanctuary well-protected wasn’t a shock. It was always that way.

As a child, he used to visit the temple on particularly rough days. Sometimes, his brother would come along, and they’d go find the master swordsman who took care of it with his wife, the shrine maiden. His brother in particular enjoyed hearing all about the swordsman’s stories, inspired by his strength and bravery that remained well into his older years. His wife was stern but motherly to all, more doting towards children than adults.

They weren’t like the rest of the clan who looked down on the weak; they loved. They loved their home, they loved their fellow men, and they loved the world. The people loved them, too. He loved them, just like they loved this sanctuary they built.

Yone stepped into the courtyard. Though it was past sunset, he could see that the place was much greener. More flowers had grown since then and the spring was well-maintained. He thought that the temple remained the most welcoming place he ever found himself in. It was clear that whoever was taking care of this place did it with the same love that the elderly couple had. He spotted their names on the stone slabs written in gold. There wasn’t just one bouquet on their grave, but several. Well-loved even after death as they deserved.

As he approached the main building, he sensed it—danger lurking within, undoubtedly the work of a monster he was all too familiar with. The wooden doors were broken and splintered. Cautiously, he stepped inside. True to his suspicion, at the end of the hall was an azakana hunched over someone, its grotesque mass a stark contrast to the pristine state of the walls as it growled and breathed heavily. His swords glinted in the light of the moon as he drew them.

Yone’s kills were clean and precise. He didn’t need to destroy his surroundings to prove his strength, nor did he think that he was destructive to that extent. As disciplined in life, as disciplined in death, and even more so in between. His physiology was wholly different from what it had been when he was alive. His being alone defied life itself.

He felt weightless, numb yet still in full control of his body as he moved into the prayer room, his footsteps not making a single sound. He heard what sounded like crazed muttering from where the azakana stood, something akin to pleading or perhaps a prayer. The azakana raised its hand. Its talons grew longer and sharper, prepared to strike whoever it was hiding. Before it could, Yone pierced his blade through its heart, silently watching as it disintegrated back into nothing but ashes and dust on the ground.

“How did you know it was here?” you asked, still struggling to catch your breath.

He was silent for a while as he picked up the mask it left behind and pinned it to his belt as proof of yet another successful hunt. You were staring up at him with teary eyes, still shaken from being so close to death’s grasp. He didn’t want to alarm you—he knew he looked ghastly—but you were obviously different from what he was. You were alive, vulnerable, and from the way you quivered like a leaf, you had never encountered one of those things before.

“It is my curse to bear,” he replied smoothly. A practised response, one that he hoped would be all you asked for. Yone knew it didn’t answer your question. As if you had more questions—you most likely did; he didn’t blame you for that—you parted your lips to speak, but no words came out.

Slightly defeated, you exhaled and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Yone glanced at you. Your face felt familiar to him like you were an old friend he hadn’t seen in years. You must be related to the previous caretakers somehow. The resemblance you had with them was striking. The way you spoke was timid, unlike the boisterous master swordsman or the confident shrine maiden. It didn’t bother him. If he was like you, defenceless in your position, he would’ve acted the same way. You seemed to be calming down with each breath you took, making him relax just the slightest. You weren’t harmed.

Aside from the azakana’s blood, tonight, his hands were clean, and he wouldn’t need to repent.

He decided to leave. There was no reason why he should stay for any longer. The sooner he could find the other stray malevolent spirits, the safer his childhood home would be. Things like him didn’t have the privilege of resting. He didn’t need it. Before he made it past the door, you called out for him, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

“Teach me how to fight.”

He didn’t hesitate. “No.”

“I… I’ll pay you. Just name your price.”

You looked less and less confident with each passing second. Dealing with stubborn people wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him. He grew up with Yasuo—he was more than used to it. He pursed his lips.

“Money has no value to me.”

“Please.” Yone should’ve been out for the next hunt by now, but there was something in your voice that kept him staying where he was. “This place, it’s… It’s all I have left. I need to protect it.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help you. He wanted to protect what he could too. It just… wasn’t for him. He thought you’d be better off learning from a master. Surely you could go to the dojo that your clan owned?

“I can’t,” he replied, realising that he had left you hanging. “I have a duty I must fulfil.”

He didn’t look back this time. The cold air of the night greeted him as he stepped out and put his swords back in their sheaths. The rain washed away the blood and its remnants on the stones beneath his feet. The skies seemed to be clearer than they were earlier. The moon and stars glowed brightly in the darkness, illuminating the paths before him. There was a nagging feeling in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Something was off—were there more azakana hiding in the area? He decided he’d patrol the forest one more time before moving on elsewhere.

He left without a trace, just like a ghost like him always did.

—

You started to carry a dagger with you wherever you went.

It wasn’t a naginata or ootachi like you were trained to use, but it made you feel safer to have something you can defend yourself with. Thankfully, the temple wasn’t damaged too badly, though it would still take some time to repair. One of the older mages dropped by and offered to cast a protective seal, which you gladly accepted.

“Miss?” you asked, fidgeting nervously as she finished up her work.

She hummed. “Yes, dear?”

“Is the… The veil, is it already open?”

“It should be by now.” She contemplated for a bit. “I will say, it wasn’t this disastrous last year… I assume it’s because the magical energy is stronger this time around. Don’t worry, dear—nature will have adapted to it by now.”

“I see. Thank you,” you chirped. “I’m more worried about the temple getting attacked or broken than anything… I can’t see spirits the same way you can. I won’t be able to protect myself.”

“The seal will keep out malevolent entities.” She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. Then she lowered her voice as if she was worried someone would hear her. “Was this really done by the storm? I could feel something strange in the air when I came here.”

You hesitantly shook your head. “There was a monster. It broke in and some—something else killed it.”

“What did it look like?”

“I was too scared to look,” you said apologetically, “but it was wearing a mask.”

“A mask?”

“It looked like a demon. The same ones in stories I used to read as a child.”

The mage frowned. “We’ll need a stronger seal than the one I put here, then.”

“Do you know what they are?”

“They’re called azakana. They are demons,” she explained. “You’re really lucky to have made it out alive. Those creatures are ruthless. They’ll stop at nothing.”

Azakana. You didn’t think you heard of them. You weren’t allowed in the magic library. Your grandparents didn’t like going into detail about the unknown, said it was just hearsay. You never got to explore the world the same way they did. All you knew in your entire life was the estate. You contemplated sneaking into the library to learn about everything that was kept from you, but there were bigger matters at hand.

“How do I stop them?”

“You kill them before they kill you,” she answered wryly. “I’ll do all I can to help keep the temple safe, but I can’t guarantee your protection.”

You had a busy afternoon ahead of you—more errands to run, more favours to do—so you couldn’t stay for long. With a polite goodbye, you went your own way, her words echoing in your mind all the while. You’d have to retrace your steps and learn to fight by yourself. The thought of how ridiculous you’d look training alone made you grimace. But she was right; it was kill or be killed. You wouldn’t always be as fortunate as you were a few days prior.

You idly swung the empty basket in your hand as you walked through the estate. The gardens look much better now. The hedges were trimmed, wilted flowers were removed, and the pond was clear. You couldn’t believe a storm just happened. The weather seemed to have settled for good, too. It was a warm and sunny day, the perfect weather for you to collect herbs and flowers for the village apothecary. She had become more frail with age, and considering her station isn’t too far from the temple, you offered to do the job for her. In your pocket was a written list of what she needed. It was nothing too difficult to find.

You were about to leave until you heard your name coming from someone in the meeting room. The doors were closed, but the walls were thin enough for you to be able to hear through them.

“—a leftover person,” a voice said—you recognised it as your uncle’s. “Past the age of marriage, but it could still be an option.”

Your heart dropped. You hid behind a wall, your fists clenched tightly around the handle of the basket as you tried to calm down and stay quiet lest you get caught eavesdropping.

Another voice chimed in. “—offspring would be cursed as well. Are you sure you don’t want to set up an arranged marriage? It’s been years—”

“Being constantly reminded of a mistake I made nearly thirty years ago is quite irritating, councillor,” came the unmistakable haughty voice of your father. “I said no. I refuse to tarnish our family name.”

You should be used to this. The cruel words, the hatred, the anger, but you can’t, no matter how much you’ve tried. It’s not as if you’re unaware of your power or lack thereof. It’s been said to you time and time again: you were weak, you were nothing.

“—what about training? It could help with getting started,” a feminine voice added. You weren’t surprised that she was the only one who was less harsh with her words talking about you so far. She of all people would know how you felt.

“Out of the question,” your father replied snidely. “Our mages and swordsmen are all pure-blooded. The bastard doesn’t deserve the honour of being one of them.”

Their words slipped through your ears. You were no longer listening; instead, you bit down on your lip and tried to hold back tears. How could someone hate their flesh and blood so much? How could he take everything away from you so easily? Not caring that they would hear you, you stormed out the gates while harshly wiping away your tears with your hands. Knowing them, they probably wanted you to.

You ran and pushed past strangers, unbothered by the concerned and irritated looks you were given. You ran until you found yourself deep in the forest, far enough so you could be left alone. Everything you tried to hold back then burst. You wailed, nails digging into your skin and your body wracked with sobs. The sound of water flowing down the stream slowly but surely calmed you down. The sobs eventually became quiet sniffles until they stopped entirely. Your tears dried on their own and you could finally breathe again.

Looking up from your hands, your gaze drifted to a fawn across the river. It lovingly nudged its mother with its head, stumbled a bit as it tried to keep up with her pace. The sight warmed your heart. It was always nice to see beings, human or animal, be gentle to one another. You hoped to be in that position someday.

A twig snapped behind you. Alarmed, you reflexively grabbed your dagger and whipped around, but the threat you were going to say died on your tongue when you saw who it was. The masked man—the one who saved you from the azakana—stood before you, huffing at you as if he found something funny.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

You glowered at him with furrowed brows before hesitantly relaxing, putting the dagger back in its sheath. “What are you doing here?”

“The dojo.”

“What?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you not ask me to teach you how to fight?”

“I did, but…”

You bit the inside of your cheek. It was kind of him to seek you out again to tell you this, but you weren’t sure how you felt. Part of you wanted to say yes, to learn to protect yourself and others. The bigger part of you already felt defeated. You could only be tough for so long before you started to break.

“Thank you for reconsidering,” you said. You meant it. “But I’m not allowed there.”

“Not allowed?”

“My father is quite a stickler for the rules.” You chuckled humorlessly. “Only his sons are allowed in that dojo. The ones with noble blood, not the bastards. Take a guess where I fall between those two.”

He mulled over your words for a bit. Then he said, “Tell me your preferred weapon.”

You blinked dumbly. “Huh?”

“Your stance. It doesn’t belong to someone who uses a dagger.”

You supposed it made sense for someone like him to know something that even you didn’t notice. Awkward as he might be, it was evident that he was passionate about what he knew. A man of honour and discipline, a dual wielder with effortless lethality. You wondered how someone like him wasn’t revered and well-known the same way that the bladesman from Wuju and the blade dancer of Navori were. You broke the silence with a noise of disbelief. How strange, indeed.

“My grandfather thought I was best suited for a naginata, so that’s what he trained me in as a child,” you told him. “I don’t think I remember anything, though. It’s been a very long time.”

“You do,” he cut in. “No one forgets the art of the blade. Your mind may not remember, but your body does.”

“That’s very kind of you to say… Thank you,” you responded, smiling softly at him, “but what made you change your mind? I thought you had your… duty.”

“I do, but helping you can also be one of them,” he replied bluntly. “You have something you want to protect. As did I.”

You tried not to think too much about why he said it like that. It was not your place to pry, but you had always been a curious one. He must have lost something or someone along the way. For someone so stoic, he didn’t hide the regret in his tone well.

You glanced at him, deciding to end your train of thought before you slipped up and said something you regretted. “Are you sure you want nothing in return?”

“I only ask for your name.”

Heat rushed to your face. It was an incredibly mundane thing to ask for, normal for people who were getting to know each other to do. His forwardness caught you off guard, made you lose your balance for a moment. You cleared your throat and gave him your name, which he repeated quietly to himself.

He nodded at you. “My name is Yone.”

Yone grabbed a bamboo stick (where did he even get that from?) and tossed it your way, visibly pleased when you managed to catch it with ease.

“Well, then, let us begin.”

—

You developed a new routine since you started training with Yone.

In the morning, you took care of the temple, which you said was ‘good as new.’ In the afternoon, you helped the apothecary with preparing medicine. In the evening, when everyone went home, you trained by the riverside with Yone. Then, at night, he walked you home per your request.

For someone who was adamant that they forgot everything, you got familiar with the blades quite easily. You were a quick learner, he noticed. He didn’t understand why you thought so lowly of yourself. He didn’t understand how your family could hate someone like you. From first glance, he knew that you were kind. Stubborn, but a great listener. Thoughtful, quick-witted, and gentle even with those who didn’t treat you the same way.

It had taken a while, but you started to be more confident in yourself as well. You hesitated less. He could see you rising up the ranks in the dojo quickly; you just needed encouragement and practice. It didn’t make sense to him why your father was dead set on restricting you from everything.

No matter, Yone thought. His heart swelled with pride every time he saw you. You didn’t even seem to realise that you were nothing like your family said you were. As much as he wanted you to know that, he wasn’t good with words. On top of his unfamiliarity with comfort or praise, he also didn’t know where his relationship with you stood. You weren’t friends, you weren’t strangers, but you weren’t distant like acquaintances would be. Regardless, he didn’t want to overstep. All he could do was hope that you’d understand him.

Steel clashed against each other as you parried his attacks. Something was different, like you weren’t completely there. He was proven right when he managed to pin you down to the floor, the edge of his sword hovering only a breath away from your neck.

“You faltered,” he said more as a statement than a question. “You can not hesitate in a fight.”

You averted your gaze from his intense stare. Were you afraid of him?

“I’m sorry.”

“We should stop for today.” He smoothly rose to his feet and offered you a hand, helping you up. “Is something wrong? You seem distracted.”

“The festival is tomorrow,” you murmured. “But I’ll be alright.”

“You don’t wish to participate in it,” he finished for you.

You gave him a strained smile. “I can’t. I just… can’t.”

Abruptly, you pulled your hand away from his and squeaked out an apology. He hadn’t noticed they were still joined together, but there was a strange feeling pulling at his chest when you let go. Still, he didn’t say anything, choosing to let the conversation end there. He knew what it was like to lose someone. Rebirth might have changed him, melded him into stone, but some things could break through and get to him.

(He hadn’t known it then, but you were one of them.)

“I’ll… see you tomorrow, then,” you said hesitantly. “I should go back.”

He nodded. “I understand. Get home safe.”

You looked as though you wanted to say something else, lips parted and eyes curious, but you didn’t. Instead, you smiled at him—softer this time, less strained—and left without a word. As you faded into the distance, Yone sighed quietly and sat down on the grass, his swords laid next to him. He didn’t want to take you away from your other responsibilities; he knew fully well that you were quite dutiful as he was. He’d gotten so used to spending evenings with you, training and listening to you talk about whatever was on your mind that your absence felt off.

Though you were sure that you weren’t going to join in the festivities tomorrow, you most likely had to help out somehow. From what you told him about your family, he doubted that they’d leave you alone as well, taking the chance of reuniting with loved ones to look down on you. His lips tugged into a frown. Feelings weren’t exactly his strong suit since his new life began, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t understand how you would feel.

The breeze caressed his skin, taking him in its cold embrace. The drop in temperature didn’t bother him. It never had, really. He was more than used to how inconsistent the Ionian climate could get. So what was this weariness and uneasiness clouding his mind? Lingering somewhere between life and death, feelings were the least of his concerns, but he didn’t like what it was doing to him as he thought about you.

He stared at the moon’s reflection in the river. It did the same thing not long ago when you sat together and talked to him about your fondest memories. It was the first time you were so open with him. He listened to your stories, your laughter and the bittersweet tinge in your voice.

He saw a spirit walking hand-in-hand with another person somewhere not too far from where he was. A festival meant for reuniting with their loved ones, the only chance spirits and humans got to see each other again. He didn’t have anyone to visit—even if he did, he doubted he could bring himself to face someone he had failed years ago.

His thoughts wandered back to you and what you told him about your grandparents. It was a relief to find out that they never changed even after the war, having stayed the same loving people until their end. A thought popped into his head. If he could just find them—no, he could.

He knew their names. He knew them.

He wasn’t a magic user, but he was confident in his ability to search. Reinvigorated, he grabbed his swords and got up. Pondering under the stars would have to wait, he had a mission to do.

The only advantage to being something he was, Yone thought, was that fatigue was never an issue. He traversed through the plains, made his way up the hill, taking every twist and turn he could think of. Not wanting to risk being seen by civilians—he wasn’t exactly unaware of how… appalling he looked—he stayed in the shadows, hiding in the darkness. After what seemed like a few hours, he finally spotted the silhouettes of your grandparents, distant but familiar.

“Yone? Is that you?” your grandfather said in disbelief, his tone still full of the same joy it had whenever he spoke to Yone and his brother. His eyes crinkled as he beamed at the younger man. “I haven’t seen you in… in years! You’ve changed!”

Your grandmother was less boisterous, though it was clear she felt happy to see him as well. Upon taking a proper look at him, her face fell, and she approached him with a concerned expression.

“It’s far too early for you to be like this,” she sighed. Yone wanted to argue that he wasn’t exactly young anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. “What happened?”

“It… is a long story,” Yone replied, his voice lacking the same strength and volume it had earlier in the day. Grief was such a fickle thing. He’d feel nothing one moment and everything in the next. He didn’t mourn himself, never had nor did he ever think it was necessary, but he did regret. Regretted being unable to protect his family, regretted being unable to protect your family. The curse laid upon him gave him the chance to atone, and even then, it never eased the chains wrapped around his soul.

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside. “I have a favour to ask of you.”

—

Yone was acting suspiciously.

To start, when you arrived at the clearing of the forest you usually trained with him, he wasn’t there. You didn’t know how long you waited until he arrived, offhandedly apologising for his tardiness. The sky had already faded into dark shades of blue, the sun nowhere to be seen and replaced with the moon peeking over the horizon. It might have been immature of you to scold him while being as huffy as a petulant child, but he didn’t seem to mind.

The day didn’t start out well for you, to say the least. The only things spoken around town were how excited people were to see their late relatives again and how much they looked forward to spending time with them for the next three days. It wasn’t like you wanted to feel bitter about it all. You were glad on their behalf, but the feeling of being the odd one wasn’t something you could control that easily. You wanted to be able to experience the same magic and happiness the others did.

As if that wasn’t enough, a councillor—likely the same one you overheard that time—left you a letter summoning you to a meeting the same night. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve kept that in mind and made sure you arrived in time. But you knew what it was going to be about. You were already in a loveless family. A loveless marriage wouldn’t make your life better and the only one benefiting from it was your father. You didn’t exactly like being spiteful (it’s a sin, a monk would say) but there was nothing wrong with it if they deserved it, was there? You ripped the paper to shreds, threw it out somewhere you couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter as long as you got rid of it.

There were a lot of things to be angry about, like how irritating it was to still be under your father’s control as an adult, or how they all never broke their habit of speaking as though you weren’t there. It didn’t mean you liked being angry. You weren’t built for such aggression.

You shook your head. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about this.

“You’re late.” You didn’t mean to say it as whiny as you did. Overly aware of how you sounded, you looked away from Yone and crossed your arms over your chest, ignoring whatever reaction he had to it. “I’ve been here for hours.”

“I’m sorry. I… had something to attend to,” he said. “I have something to show you. Follow me.”

Without realising it, you pouted. “And you have the nerve to boss me around…”

Yone’s silence made you begrudgingly glance at him again. He looked anxious, which was a surprise—you always saw him so calm and collected. It was… concerning. You sighed. He didn’t seem like he meant to leave you waiting for so long. Heaving out a quiet sigh, at last, you relented.

“Fine. Lead the way.”

The walk was quiet. You had a bunch of questions in your mind, both from curiosity and a bit of pettiness you had left. He deftly navigated through the woods, turning back once in a while to see if you were still following him. It was dark, almost as dark as it had been when you met him in that storm for the first time, but you weren’t as afraid anymore, either. You couldn’t describe it. Something about him felt safe. It could be that it was because he saved you from death and helped you become stronger. You didn’t think that was it, though.

You caught up to him, now walking beside him rather than behind. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer. You huffed. Fine.

But you couldn’t stay annoyed for long. You found your gaze drifting over to him; the curves of his mask, the clenching of his jaw. How was it possible for someone who scared you so much when you first met to also be someone who you’d trust with your life? You knew nothing about him. He was a strange person, impeccable swordsmanship aside. He never spoke about his family or his home. He was familiar with the village like he lived here before, but you’d never seen him. Just who was he?

Yone led you to a cliffside. The trek—how wasn’t he tired?—felt worth it in the end when you saw the night sky. The crescent moon smiled at you from her place among the scattered stars, sparkling and glowing brightly on what would normally be pitch black. A hand was placed on the small of your back, taking you by surprise and making your breath hitch before you relaxed. It was just him.

“I brought you a gift,” he said plainly. You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t look like he was one for gifts, but who were you to decline? It must be a reward or something, or an apology because you were left for hours—

Someone called your name. A familiar voice, one you hadn’t heard in years. You must be imagining it. They were dead, there was no way it could be. Were you so tired that you were imagining things?

“They’ve been waiting for you.” Yone gently pushed you forward. “Go.”

Sceptical as you were, once again, you relented.

The figures were clearer the closer you approached. You recognised the clothes, the voices—was this a prank? Would someone like Yone play such a cruel joke?

“You’ve grown so much,” came the voice of your grandmother, laced with a tenderness you’d recognise from anywhere.

“How…” you trailed off. Your grandparents stood in front of you, happiness radiating off of them in waves as they walked your way. You didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Weren’t they supposed to be dead? Were you hallucinating? “I don’t understand…”

“It’s us, kiddo.” Your grandfather placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair affectionately. It was cold, but it felt real, too real. “We came to see you.”

You fell apart. Tears sprung to your eyes as you fell into their arms, broken sentences and wailing leaving you at its will. It was real. You didn’t understand it. You weren’t supposed to be able to see them, to see spirits—you didn’t have that gift, your father always made sure you knew that. So how was this possible? How could you see them, touch them, feel them?

“We tried to come find you every year,” your grandmother spoke, her voice as soft as a whisper. “But we—we couldn’t come in. The estate, it’s… locked away from us.”

“You left me,” you snivelled, “you left me here—you…”

You didn’t know what you were saying anymore. Giving up on trying to voice your thoughts, you kept crying until you grew weary, the devastated weeping gradually dissolving into shaky breaths. You felt her hand on the top of your head, lovingly smoothing down your hair as she hummed the tune she always sang to you when you were young. Your grandfather leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, chuckling under his breath—they were as overjoyed as you were.

“We can’t stay for long,” he murmured. “But we really wanted to see you. That young man helped us. Quite the man you’ve found, hm?”

“He’s just a friend,” you grumbled. As cross as you were with him earlier, you were thankful that he’d done this for you. There were many unanswered questions you had lingering in the back of your mind, but those weren’t that important anymore, you thought. Finally pulling away, you smiled for the first time that night. “I missed you.”

“We missed you too, sweetheart.” Your grandmother returned the gesture, brushing your stray tears away with her thumbs. “Why don’t you come sit with us, tell us what you’ve been up to?”

As you followed them, you turned to look back at Yone, mouthing ‘thank you’ with another smile. He nodded. You learned to pick up on his cues in the past month you spent with him, so you knew what he meant. You’re welcome. He wasn’t the best with words, preferring to let his actions speak for themselves. You wondered if he knew how important this was, how you’d always remember his kindness.

Lost in conversation with your loved ones, you missed how Yone’s stern expression melted into fondness as he watched the scene, the corners of his lips curling up just the slightest. It was the happiest he’d ever seen you.

(And it was the moment he knew—he’d do whatever it took to protect your smile.)

—

Existing somewhere in a plane between life and death, Yone spent his days on autopilot with only one goal in mind. Cursed for as long as his afterlife would last by the azakana, he’d continue to hunt them down one by one until there was nothing left. He saw his ‘life’ differently, ‘felt’ differently.

Bound to the world of the living, denied the peace of death, as he used to say. Time was no longer so important to him now that he became what he was. It passed as it willed, and he would only follow until it was over—assuming it would ever be. Yone didn’t care—or rather, he just tried not to think—about the state of life, the meaning of his existence. If he was bound to duty, at least he’d try to accomplish this one, unlike what he failed in his youth.

He should have left Ionia when he killed the last azakana in that temple. But more and more showed up every day, dangerously close to where you lived, and he knew that they would come find you again eventually. Deciding to take your request wasn’t an impulsive decision. He found your determination admirable even with the chains that held you back. It reminded him of who he had been. Who he craved to be once again. He tried to keep himself distant, staying within the boundary of just a kind stranger, but before he knew it, he found himself feeling tethered to you.

You weren’t just someone he saved. You were someone he had grown increasingly fond of. Yone knew you were kind, that you had a lot of love to give even to those who didn’t deserve it. He believed in his ability to predict what would happen, to adapt to sudden changes, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the whirlwind that was you.

For the first time in years, he felt alive, and it was all because of you. Your smile, your voice, the way you’d playfully talked back to him, the way you were always concerned for him. That much still held true as he sat beside you on a hill, his gaze focused on you over the sunrise you meant to show him.

He didn’t expect you to invite him to something that could be seen as so intimate. He didn’t expect himself to agree without a second thought either. He prided himself on being someone who always thought before he did anything, but something about you had him caving into his whims more frequently. He’d find that irritating if he was the same young man he used to be, but he didn’t. If he was bold enough, maybe he’d go as far as to admit that he liked how you made him feel.

It seemed his gift for you had changed you overnight. You weren’t mad at him anymore; if anything, you seemed to be more gentle with him. Like you saw him differently. He didn’t want to assume you did—that would be unfair to you.

This was what made it difficult for him to leave.

He couldn’t stay here for long. Fate would guide him to other places, more obscure and dangerous, and as much as he felt like he overstayed his welcome with you, he didn’t want to go. He didn’t know if he’d get the chance to see you again, to talk to you again. Getting attached to what could be temporary wasn’t a smart idea—he knew that. But for once, he wanted to let himself live again.

Seeing your face fall when he told you about his imminent departure was, perhaps, the worst he ever felt. He lived through countless battles; the scars on his hands proved that. He didn’t lose his senses even with his state of being a ‘ghost’ of sorts. He still felt the sting of a cut, the aches in his muscles after exerting himself. Emotions, on the other hand, were more complicated. Growing up with his brother, he had to be stern, calm and confident. He had to be assertive. He had to be strong.

With you, he could let all of that go. He wouldn’t lose his habits, he didn’t want to, but with you, he could let his guard down.

“Yone?” you broke the silence. He blinked, suddenly overly aware that he had been staring at you like a fool in love. Maybe he was. “Are you alright?”

“I am. I’m sorry for worrying you,” he responded. “I was only… thinking of the future.”

“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

You went silent. He frowned, wondering if he should’ve kept it a secret after all. He didn’t want to hurt you. He never did.

“Well, if you decide to come back here one day,” you said, reaching for his hand. Your skin felt warm against his own. “Just know that I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Yone felt like time and the world stopped for him.

“I know I’m a lot to handle.” He didn’t think you were. Still, he didn’t interrupt, letting you speak your mind. “And I know this is just some favour, but you know… I’ve grown pretty fond of you. I’d be sad if you left without telling me.”

Your tone was lighthearted, playing off your words as if they were only a joke in case he didn’t feel the same. He felt warm—the warmest he’d ever been—and he was never one to be timid, but you always managed to bring that out of him with ease.

Yone said your name. You hummed, urging him to continue.

“You should be proud of yourself,” he said. The words felt unfamiliar to him, foreign, but he needed you to know. “Like I am of you.”

You smiled. He wanted to engrave this sight into his memory, make it something he would never forget. You teasingly nudged him with your elbow, giggles leaving your throat as you replied without missing a beat, “So you’ve grown fond of me too, huh?”

This was the most casual you had ever been with him. It was a nice change, he thought, one that he really liked. In a matter of a few weeks, you’d gone from a meek, terrified person into someone confident and much happier than you were when he first met you.

“I have, indeed,” he replied. Perhaps more than I should.

With another chuckle, you fell back into a silence that was tranquil this time, more comfortable. He wondered if it was obvious that he was staring at you—he was trying not to be, but he was always told his gaze was intense. It didn’t seem to be an issue with you. Sighing in contentment, he let his eyes wander back to the sunrise before him. The last day of the Spirit Blossom was fast approaching, which meant that you’d once again find yourself in a busy schedule. But he didn’t have to think about that, so he stopped. Instead, he let himself indulge in this rare moment with you, thinking of nothing but how much things have changed. How much he has changed.

You never let go of his hand. Neither did he.

—

“Will you be going back too? To the spirit world?”

He did say he would be leaving, after all. You weren’t really sure what you’d do if he left. His presence had become something you were accustomed to. Since the moment he found you again in the forest, your routine seemed to have more and more of him. It would feel odd, having something you were so used to just disappear so suddenly. You knew you’d get over it, but you didn’t want to.

“I’ll be staying in the human world,” he said, “only elsewhere.”

A selfish part of you wanted him to stay. You liked having him around. With him, you could forget all about the people who shunned you. Your initial lack of strength or inability to use magic never bothered him; he saw you for who you were, treated you like any person should be treated. You weren’t lying when you told him that you’ve grown fond of him—you truly did.

No, you didn’t want him to leave. But he had to.

“I see,” you whispered. “I guess this is goodbye, then.”

The longer he took to reply, the more anxious you became. The familiar stinging of your nose and the watering of your eyes had you trying to hide your face from him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry. A quiet whimper was all you let slip before you held back the onslaught of tears. You didn’t want him to think you were strange. Someone who got more attached to him than they should’ve. Someone lonely, desperate for company.

“Would you like to join me?”

Even with his mask on, you could still feel Yone’s gaze on you.

“What?” you echoed dumbly. You must’ve misheard him. You could’ve sworn you just saw his lips twitch like he was amused by something. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve said before that the only thing stopping you from leaving was your fear,” he continued. “You’ve become stronger. You fight well, by yourself and by my side. We might also be able to find your mother if we travel together. And, I…”

He trailed off, seemingly to collect his thoughts before he added, quieter, “I enjoy being with you.”

Flustered, you couldn’t say a word. It took a while before you could properly process what he said.

“You mean…”

“Yes. I’d like you to come with me.” He cleared his throat, hesitating as if he was nervous. “You can decline if you’d—”

Yone was cut off by you tackling him into a hug, nearly sending him falling backwards had he been unable to keep his balance. You buried your face in his neck, smiling against his skin before you pulled away to properly look at him. Seeing how close you were made your eyes widened, and you were about to pull away before he leaned down to kiss you softly, which you melted into with ease.

Hesitantly, he pulled away. You could’ve sworn he was blushing. “I assume that’s a yes…?”

“You already know what I meant, Yone.” You grinned, unable to resist the urge to tease him. “You just want me to say it.”

“Well, it… would confirm my thoughts.”

“Of course, it’s a yes!”

“I must warn you it won’t be easy,” he hesitated, giving you another chance to say no. Like he couldn’t believe that you wanted to join him. “So if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to… Why are you laughing?”

“I mean it, you old fool,” you teased.

“Old fool—”

“I would love to come with you.” You curled into his side, laying your head on his shoulder as you watched the river flow in front of you. “I’m not scared anymore. I have you.”

Yone pulled you closer, leaving a ghost of a kiss on the crown of your head. “And I have you.”

It felt like something straight out of a fairytale. You were going to leave this wicked place with someone you fell in love with. You couldn’t believe it was happening, but it was, and your heart raced, not out of fear but out of excitement.

You couldn’t wait for the adventures you’d have together.

[eliaah]

they realize their feelings for you !

characters: yami sukehiro, fuegoleon vermillion, nozel silva, & william vangeance

tags: fluff , multi characters x fem reader

a/n: i made this one based on that brigade question like what's their type? yami = someone strong | fuegoleon = someone passionate | nozel = someone who can give their all to the house silva | william = someone who doesn't bother the face of his. I don't know if all of these will be accurate but i tried my best !

💜 YAMI SUKEHIRO

It was another usual day at the Black Bulls' hideout, and as always, chaos was in full swing. Noelle and Asta were at it again, Magna and Luck were bickering over something that probably didn’t matter, and Vanessa was drinking alcohol like nothing was going on. Yami, however, was focused on you.

You were sparring with Gauche, and as usual, you were kicking ass. The way you fought, with that quiet intensity and controlled power, made him pause for a moment. You weren’t just strong, Yami had seen strength before, plenty of times, but with you, it wasn’t just about raw power. It was about the precision, the strategy, the way you carried yourself. You weren’t one to back down or second-guess yourself, and that was something he couldn’t help but admire.

When the spar ended, you wiped your brow, catching Yami’s eye from across the room. He had been watching you, and you knew it. But instead of looking away, you held his gaze, that confident, knowing smile spreading across your face.

Yami sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying to hide the sudden unease creeping in. "Oi." he called out, voice gruff. "Don’t go making those damn faces at me. It’s distracting."

You tilted your head slightly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Why? Is it too gorgeous?” you teased, clearly enjoying the effect you were having on him.

Yami scoffed, looking away quickly. “Tch. Just keep your face to yourself, alright?” he muttered, but even as the words left his mouth, he felt that tightness in his chest. That smile, that confidence, it wasn’t just the strength that had caught his attention anymore. It was everything about you.

You weren’t just a powerful member of his squad. You were something more. And that realization... hit him harder than he’d expected.

💜 FUEGOLEON VERMILLION

The Vermillion estate library was calm, its shelves lined with ancient tomes and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the tall windows. You sat across from Leopold, a quill in hand as you carefully sketched a diagram to explain the finer points of mana stabilization. Leopold leaned forward, his expression intense as he tried to follow along.

“Focus here.” you said gently, pointing to a rune in the diagram. “This is where the mana flow converges. If you don’t stabilize it, the spell will collapse before it can take form.”

Leopold groaned, rubbing the back of his head. “You make it sound so easy, y/n. How do you even keep all this in your head?”

“It’s not about memorizing.” you said with a small smile. “It’s about understanding. Think of it like a puzzle, every piece has its place. You just have to figure out how they connect.”

Fuegoleon stood silently by the doorway, his arms crossed as he observed the two of you. He had only meant to check on Leopold’s progress, but once again, he found himself captivated by the way you carried yourself.

You weren’t just teaching Leopold spell theory, you were patient, encouraging, and passionate. It was clear in every word you spoke, every gesture you made. You cared deeply, not just about the results but about the process.

Leopold grinned as he tried again, his flames flickering to life. This time, the spell formed steadily, its edges sharp and controlled. “I did it!” he exclaimed, turning to you with wide eyes. “It actually worked!”

You beamed at him, clapping your hands lightly. “I knew you could do it! All it takes is focus and practice.”

Fuegoleon’s chest tightened. That smile of yours, so full of pride and warmth, it struck something deep within him. For a man who valued control and discipline, the intensity of his feelings for you caught him off guard. It was as if you had quietly set his heart ablaze, and he hadn’t noticed until the fire had consumed him completely.

When Leopold excused himself to test the spell further in the training grounds, you began tidying up the books and parchment scattered across the table. Fuegoleon stepped forward, clearing his throat softly.

“You’ve done excellent work with Leopold.” he said, his voice even yet warm.

You glanced up, startled by his presence, but your lips curved into a smile. “He’s a fast learner. He just needed a little guidance.”

Fuegoleon’s gaze lingered on you longer than he intended. “Your guidance is exceptional.” he said, stepping closer. “You have a gift for teaching, not just in what you know, but in how you inspire others. It is... rare.”

The sincerity in his tone made you pause, your hands stilling over the stack of papers. “That’s high praise coming from you, Captain.” you replied softly, a faint blush warming your cheeks.

He gave a small nod, his composure intact, though his thoughts were anything but. You aren't just intelligent or skilled, you're someone who lived with purpose, someone who gave everything their all. It was that fire in you, that unwavering passion, that he found himself drawn to in ways he hadn’t expected.

Fuegoleon had always believed in discipline, control, and focus. But now, standing here with you, he realized that no amount of discipline could quell the warmth growing in his chest. He admired you deeply, respected you completely, and, most surprising of all, cared for you in a way he hadn’t thought himself capable of.

When you gathered the last of the papers and stood, he stepped aside, his usual composure returning. “I’ll be outside.” he said, his tone steady despite the chaos in his chest. “Leopold will benefit from your guidance, as he always does.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Of course, Captain.”

As you walked past him, the faint scent of parchment and the subtle warmth of your magic lingering in the air, Fuegoleon couldn’t help but watch you go. He stood there for a moment, silent, letting the weight of his realization settle over him.

You aren't just someone he admired. You’re someone who had ignited something within him, something that burned brighter and fiercer than any flame he had ever conjured.

And for the first time, Fuegoleon allowed himself to hold on to that fire, even if only quietly.

💜 NOZEL SILVA

The halls of the Silva estate were peaceful, the soft sound of Nozel's footsteps echoing through the corridors as he walked quietly down to Noelle’s room. Nozel had been making his rounds, checking on his family’s well-being, when he heard something that made him pause, a small, melodic sound.

Laughter.

He didn’t often hear laughter within these stone walls, and the sound piqued his interest. Moving towards Noelle’s door, he listened for a moment, curious.

He quietly cracked the door open just enough to peek inside, and there he saw you, kneeling beside Noelle’s bed, reading her a story. Noelle, still a little child, looked up at you with wide eyes, her silver hair slightly disheveled as she grinned at something you’d said. You spoke with such a natural warmth, your voice soft and soothing as you held her attention.

“...And the knight swore to protect the kingdom, no matter the cost.” you said, your voice gentle, your words full of encouragement.

Noelle giggled softly. “You’re like that knight, y/n. Strong and brave!”

You smiled, your heart clearly fond of her. “Well, I’m glad you think so, Noelle. One day, you'll be like that knight too.”

The tenderness in your voice, the patience you showed as you tucked Noelle into bed and kissed her forehead, made Nozel pause. You were kind, more than just a caretaker, more than just someone who worked for House Silva. There was a quiet strength about you, a warmth that Noelle clearly felt.

You tucked the blanket around Noelle gently, whispering, “Sleep well, Noelle. I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that, you stood up and moved toward the door, careful not to disturb the little one’s slumber. Nozel, standing just outside, watched you as you quietly stepped away from the room, making sure everything was in order before leaving.

As you opened the door, you bumped into someone. You blinked in surprise, your eyes softening when you recognized him.

“Captain Silva.” you said with a warm smile, your voice calm. “I didn’t realize you were up this late.”

Nozel straightened slightly, his expression as composed as ever. “I came to check on Noelle.” he said, his tone even. “She seems... content.”

You nodded. “She’s been through a lot. I just wanted to make sure she had a peaceful night.”

Nozel’s eyes softened as he took a moment to truly observe you. You caught Nozel's attention, it was the way you carried yourself with such quiet dignity, the way you cared for Noelle with such genuine affection.

“Thank you.” he said, his voice more sincere than usual. “For everything you do for her. It’s... not easy to care for someone with such a spirited nature.”

You chuckled softly. “Noelle is strong. She just needs a little guidance and reassurance.”

Nozel nodded, his eyes lingering on you as he considered your words. You weren’t just fulfilling your duties, you were giving Noelle something she needed desperately, your unwavering support and care.

You gave him a polite smile before continuing on your way, your footsteps light as you disappeared down the hall. Nozel watched you for a moment, his mind wandering.

For all his discipline and control, he couldn’t ignore the way his heart felt a little lighter whenever he saw you. You had captured his attention not by your status or strength, but by the quiet, steadfast way you showed care for others, something he realized he respected deeply.

He stood in the hall for a long moment, his thoughts on you, before turning back to his duties. It was clear now that you were someone he couldn’t easily forget.

💜 WILLIAM VANGEANCE

The Golden Dawn headquarters was eerily quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Everyone had been sent out on missions, leaving the grand halls empty—except for one person.

William Vangeance sat alone in the library, surrounded by shelves of books and the faint scent of parchment. He exhaled, leaning back in his chair as he finally removed his mask, placing it carefully on the table. The air was warm, and without the suffocating weight of the mask, he could finally breathe freely.

He ran a hand over his face, fingers brushing the scars he rarely allowed anyone to see. This was a rare moment of solitude, one he thought would go uninterrupted.

But then, the door creaked open.

William turned sharply, his heart skipping a beat as his gaze landed on you.

You froze, standing in the doorway with a book in hand, your wide eyes meeting his.

“y/n.” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Captain Vangeance?” you said, softly.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The warm hues of the setting sun streamed through the tall windows, casting a golden light on the two of you. William’s first instinct was to reach for his mask, but something about the way you were looking at him made him pause.

You didn’t flinch. Your expression didn’t shift into discomfort or pity. Instead, you stepped forward, setting your book down on the table.

“I’m sorry.” you said gently. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought everyone was out on missions.”

William’s throat tightened. “I… thought so too.”

You offered him a small smile, your gaze unwavering as you sat down across from him. “I came back early.” you explained, your tone casual, as if this moment wasn’t extraordinary. “I thought I’d relax here for a while. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

He nodded, still unsure of what to say. His scarred face felt exposed, vulnerable, but you hadn’t reacted the way he had feared.

After a moment, you spoke again, your voice steady. “You know, this light suits you.”

William blinked, startled. “What?”

“The sunlight.” you said, gesturing to the way it caught the angles of his face. “It makes you look... peaceful.”

A lump formed in William’s throat as he studied you. There was no hesitation in your expression, no trace of the judgment he had grown accustomed to fearing. Instead, there was warmth, genuine and unyielding, in your gaze.

“You’re not bothered?” he asked quietly, his fingers brushing the edges of his mask.

“Why would I be?” you replied simply. “It’s just you, Captain Vangeance.”

It was such a simple statement, yet it held a weight that made William’s chest tighten. For so long, he had hidden behind the mask, letting others see only the perfect leader of the Golden Dawn. But here you were, looking at him as though the scars didn’t matter, as though he was just another person to you.

And in that moment, something shifted within him.

For someone who had always carried the burden of his dual existence, this newfound warmth and acceptance caught him off guard. He realized then how deeply your presence had come to mean to him. You aren't just another squad member. You're someone who saw beyond his scars, someone who didn’t let the world’s expectations dictate your view of him.

The setting sun bathed the room in golden light as you stood to return to the shelves, leaving William sitting in silence, his thoughts spiraling.

For the first time in a long while, his heart felt full—not with duty or burden, but with something far more profound.

[monkishes]

Violent Delights | 01

Y/N volunteers in a mental hospital with the intention to help the patients and care for them. Everything seems to be normal, except for seven boys whom she was assigned to. She doesn't understand what mess she has gotten herself into, and when she does, it's too late to get out.

warnings : mental illnesses, mentions of eating disorders, mental asylum, pills/drugs.

word count : 1905

pairing : ot7 x reader

chapter 1 of ? ——— previous -> next

Your ears filled with the cacophony of honking cars mixed with the sounds of people shouting. For the past ten minutes, you had been stuck in traffic, barely moving an inch. It felt as though the never ending flow of cars would never stop. You were practically leaning against the window, tapping your fingers on your thigh as irritation sank into every fibre in your body.

Frustrated, you sat up straight and beeped the horn another few times (even though you knew it wouldn't help.) A thought crossed your mind, and you realised the hospital wasn't too far from where you are right now. You frantically looked around for any available parking spaces, but everything was occupied, and everything that wasn't was practically impossible to get to.

Your hand itched towards your phone, gripping onto it and double tapping to check the time. 12:23PM, it read. Over twenty minutes late. If it continued to look like this, you wouldn't get to the hospital anytime soon.

The only thing left for you to do was to wait and pray that the traffic moved on.

Quickly hurrying out of the car, your shoes clacked against the concrete floors of the car park as you made your way over to the tall building. It loomed over you, seemingly stretching into the sky with no end.

A little further away from the entrance, you watched as another person rushed in through the doors. They seemed to be coming from the same traffic you came from. Unlike them, you didn't immediately run over to the doors, and instead took a minute to look at yourself in a compact mirror, checking if you looked presentable. After patting down a few flyaways, you let out a deep breathe and went back to speed walking towards the entrance.

The automatic glass doors opened as you stood before them, granting you entry and you stepped through them. The noise from the outside world was instantly replaced by the bustling sounds of the busy hospital. It was loud, the sounds of footsteps, inaudible conversations and medical equipment filling the air.

Your eyes darted from place to place before landing on the reception desk and you made your way over. The receptionist was engrossed in her computer, not sparing you a glance as you stood before her.

You hesitated for a moment before clearing your throat, but even that didn't seem to catch her attention, she continued clicking away on her keyboard as if you didn't even exist.

"Excuse me?" you mumbled, somewhat embarrassed as the receptionist glanced up towards you. "I'm here as a volunteer."

The receptionist straightened up, and you noticed the name tag attached to the right side of her uniform, Bora.

She looked at you up and down, her lip quirking up as she met your eyes. "You're over forty minutes late."

"I know, there was a lot of—"

"Traffic? Yes, I know. I also know of other volunteers who took the same route as you but managed to come on time, if not even earlier." Bora pushed herself back on her spinning chair, folding her arms and maintaining eye contact with you. Her intense gaze caused you to look down in shame, you hadn't realised forty minutes had passed.

"I—"

"Listen, I know you're not getting paid for this, but if you're just here to waste our time, the door's right there. The people here need help, we're not here to mess around." she pointed towards where you came from, and you couldn't help but glance for a second towards there. If she interrupted you one more time, maybe you would consider leaving.

"I apologise, I'm here to help. Trust me, Bora, it won't happen again." you finally managed to say without being interrupted.

"It better not. Do you know where you need to go?"

"I was told that someone would brief me here." you explained, noticing the annoyance in her tone.

"Well, since you're late, figure things out yourself. What's your name?"

"Y/N..." you muttered before the began typing away at the computer. When she finally stopped, she spun her chair round to the other side where the printer was sat, and you watched as she impatiently waited for a paper to be released.

She spun back towards you, handing you a sheet of paper with a bunch of writing on it. "You'll have to go to Dr. Hans room to get the stuff you need, it's down that corridor," she said, motioning with her fingers towards a hall, "His name is on his door so you'll know it when you see it."

"I would go over the case files with you, but since you're so late, that'll have to be done on another day." she finished, going back to typing away.

"So... all I do is give them their prescriptions?" you question, holding up the paper and scanning it with your eyes.

Bora grumbled at your question, and now it was clear that she did not like you. For what reason, you had no clue, but could only assume it was because of your tardiness. Still, you had a valid reason, right? She didn't have to give you such attitude.

"You'll give them their prescriptions, clean their rooms and assist them with whatever they need. If it's something medical, you'll have to call a doctor. Got it?"

"Yeah, thanks." you send her a smile that is unreciprocated and only returned with a scowl and a roll of her eyes.

Bora seemed like a friendly person, maybe being late just got you onto her bad side. So much for a good first impression.

As she walked down the endless hallway, her eyes continued to read over the paper that was handed to her which consisted of seven names in bold black writing followed with their illness and what things they need. With furrowed eyebrows, you read over the names of their pills and confusion set into your mind at their foreign names. At least you didn't have to pick those out.

For a second, you had forgotten where you were headed, but soon remembered that Dr. Han's room was somewhere in this corridor and that he was in charge of the pills. Instead of scanning the paper, your eyes scanned the hall, looking for a door with the doctors name.

It didn't take long to find it, and you were standing in front of his door in no time.

You brought up your fist to the door, knocking once, causing a muffled voice to be heard from inside. "Come in," it said, and you could only assume that it was Dr. Han. Still clutching onto the paper with one hand, you used the other to push open the door, revealing a man sat down at a desk. He looked to be only a few years older than you, his dark black hair pushed back with glasses sat atop his head. For a second, you admired his beauty, were all the workers here so good looking?

"May I help you?" he asked, slightly tilting his head to the left.

"Are you Dr. Han?" you spoke, to which the man nodded. You took the chance to walk closer towards him, letting the door shut behind you. "I'm here as a volunteer, Bora sent me here."

He nodded in understanding, the polite smile never leaving his face. Dr Han stood from his position at his desk, gesturing with his finger for you to come closer. "Could you hand me that?" he asked, looking towards the paper in your hand.

You handed it to him, and proceeded to wait there patiently in silence as he made his way around the room, grabbing various pills from shelves and not once making a mistake. It seemed as though he knew the room like the back of his hand.

Since you were now standing right at his desk, you took the chance to let your eyes scan all of its contents. It consisted of a computer with a keyboard, but that's not what caught your attention. You noticed the names of two boys, attached with a picture and a bunch of other writing. Unfortunately, due to your horrible eyesight, you had to squint hard to make out any of the words, Park Jimin and J—

Before you could read out the second name, Dr. Han was already making his way back towards you, this time with a tray in hand. You took a step back, realising that you were making yourself appear as nosy and rude. This was none of your business, anyway.

He returned with the tray and several other items, carefully placing each one onto the gray tray before handing it to you. It was of medium size, able to fit onto one of ur hands if you could balance it properly. You noticed that he had put the sheet of paper that you previously had down onto the tray first, then put everything else on top, allowing you to read off the names and hold all the prescriptions with no problems.

"How comes you're so late?" the doctor questioned, looking at you with a curious gaze.

"Oh, there was a lot of traffic." you replied, smiling sheepishly and expecting to be told off. Instead, Dr. Han chuckled softly at your reaction before taking his seat.

"I assume Bora already scolded you for being late." he said, rolling himself closer to his desk. You nodded, letting your finger roam across the edge of the tray. "I apologise on her behalf, she can be quite a handful."

"It's no problem, I understand where she's coming from anyway."

"Yeah, but she's probably just cranky since you're working with 'her boys.'" he rolled his eyes, and you could sense the dislike he felt towards her.

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused.

"Oh, nothing, never mind. You should probably get going, and come back when you're done."

Although you were confused and wanted him to answer your question, you knew staying would end up wasting more time, and instead decided to take your leave, muttering a quick goodbye with an awkward smile.

Before you left, you watched him go back to writing something down on a sheet of paper, and even more curiosity set down in your body.

[ponett]

i always find it funny that twitter lets you actually lets you go into your settings and see your "interests" that it assumes you have based on your activity. i mean all the targeted advertising panopticon shit is very darksided but it's funny to see the list laid bare like this

interests twitter has assigned me include, but are not limited to:

Amazon Prime

Angry Birds

Arknights

Astral Chain

Bernie Sanders

Blaseball

Bread

Brennan Lee Mulligan

COVID-19

Cardfight!! Vanguard

Chicken recipes

Chrono Cross

Combat sports

Curb Your Enthusiasm

Danganronpa

Doki Doki Literature Club

Dr. Disrespect

Dragon Ball Z Dokkan Battle

Dril / wint

Elon Musk

Furry fandom

Game emulation

Geoff Keighley

"Google brand conversation"

Gunma-chan (the mascot of japan's gunma prefecture, apparently)

Homestuck

JRPGs

Jaboukie Young-White

Jennifer Hale

Keemstar

Kizaru (this is apparently the name of a russian rapper but i definitely got this interest for tweeting about the one piece character)

Legalized Marijuana

Luigi's Mansion

Markiplier

Masahiro Sakurai

"Miku Hatsune"

Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid

Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans (this is the only gundam series they have listed separately)

PAW Patrol

PAW Patrol

PAW Patrol

PlayStation Vita

Pope Francis

Roger Craig Smith

Saint Seiya

Secret of Mana

The Mighty Ducks: Game Changers

Todd Howard

Touhou Project

Twin Peaks

Twin Peaks

Twin Peaks

Twin Peaks: The Return

Walmart

"X - the everything app"

Yoshi

Young Sheldon

[sanzusslutt]

How I thing the Tokyo Revengers characters would hug you

Pairing: Manjirou Sano, Ken Ryuguji, Takashi Mitsuya x Y/N (Separately)

Warnings: None♡︎

Sano Manjirou (Mikey)

The last weeks have been crowded for Mikey with things including Toman, making it very hard for you to schedule a date with your beloved boyfriend. Even if you eventually plan to go out, most of the time he would cancel it due to gang's business or meetings. So, tonight was no different. He called you half an hour before your date saying that, an unexpected meeting had to take place and since he wouldn't be able to go out, you could go where he was to see you. You agreed and some time later you were in front of your lovely boyfriend. He almost started running towards you, hands on your waist, both southing and caressing lovingly your back, and his forehead rested on your shoulder. "I'm sorry that I had to cancel again, pretty.." he murmured. You reassured him that you weren't upset about the cancellation mostly because you knew how important Toman is to Mikey and the other members. Being the leader of a gang that popular comes with drawbacks.

Ken Ryuguji (Draken)

You waited for Ken to finish fixing a bike at least the last three hours. Scrolling on your phone, looking through Draken's stuff, admiring his beautiful build or anything that could make time go faster as your boyfriend took his time fixing that damn bike. Eventually, he became tired of just sitting there trying to repair something when you were standing alone behind his tall figure. He looked over his shoulder only to see you looking around to find anything interesting to pass your time. He stood up, walking over your smaler figure, turning you around, planting his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. Then, he putted his hands on the fat of your butt as he easily lifted you from the floor and placing you on the counter that was behind you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, playing with his loose braid as he southed your lower back with his big palms. "Sorry, angel. The bike took a little longer than expected but I'm all yours now" he said as he massaged your back. Every thought you had, disappeared as soon as he caged you between his strong arms.

Takashi Mitsuya

It was one of the many times that your date had included Takashi's younger sisters, Mana and Luna. You were in his sister's room, talking and gossiping with the little angels before you put them to sleep. Your boyfriend was done with chores, leaving time for the both of you to spend some time together. He stopped at the door of Mana's and Luna's bedroom when he heard his sister's question. "Do you love big brother, Y/N?" the younger girl asked. "What kind of question is that?? I very much do, bug. He is one of the best things thats ever happened to me and since I met him, I can't imagine my life without him anymore". Taka leaned against the door frame, hands crossed at your sweet words and the softest expression on his face. "Eww, stop!! that's disgusting Y/N!!" the older sister yelled at you causing you to barst out laughing. "Come on girls, it's finally time you go to bed!! You got up, guiding the sisters to their beds when you felt two hands grabbing your waist from behind. "Suya?-" you called. He started kissing your neck as a reply. You giggled as he circled his hands on your waist and rested his head with his chin on your shoulder. "I can't imagine living without you either, darling" He whispered kissing your cheek as you felt your body grow hotter from the embarrassment that he heard what you said. It was true though, you couldn't live without him.

I love him. I think that shows...

[hydrangeapartridge]

Title: Mind Body and Soul - Chapter 5

Pairing: Mage!Shinsou x reader

I wrote for Shinsou again! Link to AO3 here

Summary: Once upon a time there was you: a nobody, a refugee from a country devastated by Dabi’s undead army, serving as a maid in king Todoroki’s castle. There, fate decided you would cross path with the mysterious and dreaded court mage Hitoshi Shinsou. Little did you know that particular encounter would change your life forever.

Rating: M

Tagged people <3 (tell me if you want to be added): @maple-syrup-with-strawbewwies @moonlitmoonpie @obeythehuman

Chapter 5: The Fire (under the cut!) - (link to chapter 1, 2 , 3, 4)

The following days were filled with more reading, but also practice with the lenient spirit of water. Shinsou insisted that you should improve your handling of water before you could try handling another element; especially one harder to move like earth, or more abstract to picture like air.

Water spells weren’t boring, far from it. Every spell, every magic trick you performed felt as thrilling as the first one. You were sure you would never tire of it. However, you felt curious about the way the other elements would feel when connecting to them, and you were eager to learn more on the subject of magic. You barely started grazing the surface of it afterall. All that knowledge was new and exciting.

That thirst for knowledge became a consuming passion, and soon, you caught yourself reading for hours in the dead of the night, or not putting down your notes while hastily wolfing down a meal. As such, you understood Shinsou’s lifestyle better, slowly coming to follow it yourself. And never did you mock his impressive book collection again. On the contrary, you were grateful to be able to borrow from it.

After your interview with the king, your were informed that a room had been made available for you at the bottom of the castle’s tower. Being able to have your own space, and to sleep in a proper bed was a luxury you thought you would never be graced with. And yet, thanks to your gift for magic, your life was once again made better.

You absent-mindedly reflected on your improved lifestyle as you swiftly watered the plants on the windowsill with a little magic trick. You didn’t need any incantation anymore for it, and as Shinsou explained, the more you practised, the more magic stamina (or <i>mana</i>, as he called it) you gained, and the more spells you were able to cast in a row. At first your casting took time, and left you tired and drained. Now you could move a small amount of water with a snap of your fingers.

Once done with watering the flowers, you closed the windows. Outside, the air was chilly, the sun slowly setting. It was getting darker inside Shinsou’s office, and looking at the unlit candles on the desk, an idea struck you.

You still didn’t know how to conjure spirits, but if you could move water as you pleased, transferring a small amount of the fire inside Shinsou’s oil lamp to light a few candles shouldn't be too difficult. The theory of it you mastered without question. You felt confident it wouldn’t be too hard.

If he never explicitly told you not to play with fire, Shinsou did tell you you shouldn’t try new spells when he wasn’t present. Your teacher was overly careful with what spells he allowed you to experiment. He kept warning you about the dangers of magic, so much so that lately you listened to him less attentively.

You decided this one spell was simply a variation of water handling. After all, you would just be moving an elemental spirit from one place to another.

Shinsou liked to keep secrets to himself, that you were sure of, and as a fellow mage you would do the same. It would be your little secret, until you surprised him with how much you had improved, and proved him how skilled and independent in your studies you could be.

You secretly couldn’t wait for him to praise your progress, and with that thought in mind, you placed the oil lamp near the candles on the desk.

Taking a deep breath, you focused on the flame gently swaying inside the oil lamp. You took some time to visualize the path you would make a sample of the flame take. Even if you were confident you were able to do this, you still carefully approached the spell, knowing being careless with magic could result in a disaster. The candles were mere inches from the oil lamp. It shouldn’t be a difficult spell.

You quickly glanced at the door to Shinsou’s room. It was closed, and no noise came from there. He was probably focused on some reading. You wouldn’t be caught.

You straightened your clothes to steady yourself and leant towards the materials you placed on the desk.

You lifted a hand and whispered as low as possible. “Ignis”

Before your eyes, the flame in the oil lamp seemed to perk up. It burned brighter the moment you called out to it. The pulp of your fingers tingled as the connection was made, the sensation familiar but very different from how the water made you feel. The fire was warm, tickling, almost bubbly, giving you a sense of playfulness and a yearning for freedom.

With extreme focus, you slowly moved your finger. The flame stretched over the top glass opening of the oil lamp. You struggled to split it in two but after a while, you succeeded in getting only a tiny flame to leave the lamp. You quickly moved the flame to the candle, fearing it would go out. Its light seemed so fragile compared to the steady flame burning inside the lamp.

Once the flickering spark of fire touched the candle wick, its light grew bolder. You let out a relieved chuckle. You had succeeded.

Or so you thought.

The second you relaxed and eased your focus to terminate the spell, the flame lighting the candle suddenly grew wild. It rose as high as the ceiling, setting ablaze the parchments and books in its way, and licking at your hand that had the misfortune of hovering close to it.

You stepped back, nursing your injured hand, eyes wide with fear as the flames grew bigger. Fire started licking at the desk, wildly and exponentially spreading, devouring the easily flammable paper and wood. Was it your yelp of surprise and pain, or was it the sudden burst of light that alerted him, you wouldn’t know, but soon, the door to Shinsou’s room slammed opened, and the next second, the mage was by your side, stunned in front of the disaster you caused.

The look he sent you made you want to crawl into a dark hiding place forever, for more than furious, it was wounded. You had destroyed part of his hard work, and part of his beloved book collection. And worse, you had broken his trust.

Without wasting another second, Shinsou turned to the fire, staring at it like it had personally offended him. You felt the prickles of a spell in preparation in the air as your teacher focused. He raised his hands in front of him, then with force he brought them together. A strong gust of wind blew through your hair and a loud clapping sound rang in your ears. And with that, all the flames in the room went out.

In the dim light brought by the moon only, you could still see the dark burnt traces the fire left in its wake. On the desk and on the shelves, the damage was thankfully minimal, but a few parchments and books were still lost.

The silence that fell over the room felt deafening, and frozen in place, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Shinsou.

“Fire is wild and wants to eat everything” You finally heard him whisper in a sigh.

“I’m sorry” You sniffed, voice barely audible. You felt ashamed that you didn’t heed his warnings. Tears started prickling at the corners of your eyes. You felt terrible, and your hand was hurting, burning where the flames touched you.

Through your blurry vision, you saw a pair of shoes appear in front of yours.

Shinsou carefully took your hand in his, gently prying your palm opened with his cold fingers. You winced as he traced the place where your skin was tender and turning an angry red.

“You’re hurt” He breathed, brows furrowing. “Why do I always end up needed the only kind of magic I’m so bad at” He sighed, then let go of your hand. “I won’t try my hand at healing magic for fear of worsening the wound. But I think I might have a poultice somewhere that can help”

Shinsou stepped away and with an effortless flick of his wrist, he lit the oil lamp again. You bit your lower lip in frustration, continuing your efforts to reign in the tears threatening to spill on your cheeks. While Shinsou looked for the salve, you carefully ran your thumb over the palm of your hand, tracing the edges of the burn. The gesture felt oddly soothing. As you massaged the area, you were surprised to feel the tip of your thumb tingle with an oddly familiar sensation. You could feel your pulse abnormally pounding under your skin. Under your bewildered eyes, you saw the burnt skin you were stroking progressively loosing its angry red colour, instead turning into a less sore pink hue. You forced yourself to blink a few times, almost sure you were hallucinating things because of the pain and fatigue.

“Shinsou” You feebly called out to him, distress filling you.

Despite sour mood and the obvious anger he must be feeling towards your actions, in an instant he was by your side. His worried gaze followed yours until he could assess the state of your hand.

“What’s happening to me?” You asked, voice shaking, your thumb still pressed to your opened palm. You felt like it was glued to it, finding it difficult to stop touching your burnt skin. It felt like that part of you was on a mission to finish something it started without your consent, and it was overwhelming.

Shinsou looked between you and the visibly receding burn on your hand. He then gently pried your thumb away from the wound, carefully holding it between his fingers. The pounding stopped; the tingling too. The connection was broken. Where you were once severely burnt, only soft pink and barely warm skin remained.

Shinsou let out an almost amused exhale through his nose “Well, nothing to worry about. It seems to me like you were simply healing yourself”

Your head lifted and your widening eyes meet his twinkling amethyst ones. You found no traces of anger left there. Only a sort of amusement mixed with maybe … pride?

“I did what?”

Shinsou smirked, leaving your side only to retrieve the poultice. Despite your burn looking a lot better, he still opted to treat it with the salve. Taking your hand in his, he took his precious time spreading the creamy mixture over your palm, intentionally not answering your question. You cheeks burnt under his attention, his ministrations, and his avoidance. Was that his way of punishing you? If that was the case, it was an oddly pleasant sort of punishment. The poultice’s fresh texture soothed your aching skin, but the feeling of Shinsou’s touch on your skin threatened to set it ablaze again.

“I am upset that you didn’t listen to my numerous warnings” He finally said, eyes focused on the task of massaging the poultice into your delicate skin. “But I suppose making mistakes is part of the learning process” He released your hand and his gaze met yours. “At least this debacle was of use; we found your spirit of affinity”

You blinked owlishly, surprised that he would forgive you so easily, and puzzled by his words. “Spirit of affinity?” You repeated, clueless.

Shinsou’s smirk sent heat coursing under your cheeks. “Haven’t read about that yet now have you?” He smugly teased. “Well, thankfully it is part of my duties as your master to enlighten you”

You levelled him with your best unimpressed stare, but it didn’t seem to deter his suddenly good mood.

Not paying you any mind, Shinsou started his evening lecture. “Although in theory any mage can cast any spell; communicate or order any spirit, each mage has a special connection to a particular kind of spirit, with which it is easier to connect. That is what we call ‘spirit of affinity'”

His explanation was very logical, and you nodded your head, the whole notion piquing your curiosity. “So mine is .. healing?” You wondered. “But that is not a spirit, is it?” You immediately corrected yourself, feeling a bit lost.

“Indeed” Shinsou nodded his head. “Your spirit of affinity seems to be the spirit of the Body” He told you, and suddenly it all made much more sense. “I am sure you remember the lesson about the Body, the Mind and the Soul” Shinsou continued his explanation. “Healers can communicate with and shape the spirit of the body. It is a rare and powerful ability”

Healing magic involved the spirit of the Body. You were thrilled to know you possessed such a rare and useful ability. If you pursued the path of healing magic, you could help so many people in the kingdom. That prospect made you ecstatic, and it was probably easy to read on your face.

“That discovery seems to please you” Shinsou remarked and you vigorously nodded your head “Sadly I’m afraid I won’t be able to teach you a lot in this area. As you may have noticed it is far from my expertise. But between books and the theory I can provide you, you should be able to cultivate that ability. As well as the many other things you need to learn to become a proper mage” His eyes held a mischievous glint as he added. “Like for example, handling fire spirits without any incident”

You let out an embarrassed little laugh. “Yes.. well, fire clearly isn’t my spirit of affinity” You commented, running a nervous hand through your hair.

Shinsou shook his head at your antics. “That we gathered. From the beginning, I didn’t picture you to be a fire mage. They are often brash and unfocused. Preferring easy solutions to well thought plans. You are nothing of the sort”

You felt a surge of pride at his words. “So you’re telling me that a mage’s personality matches its spirit of affinity?” You asked, curious.

“In a way” Shinsou replied, and you urged him to elaborate with examples. You were happy that he obliged, chuckling at your interest.

“For instance, earth mages are often stubborn, while air mages are light-hearted. They even have a reputation to be flighty. Metal mages are strong willed and taciturn, when wood mages are reliable and supposedly skilled in crafting… Those are rough approximations of course, there are some exceptions to these beliefs and reputations”

You avidly drank Shinsou’s words, and wished you could meet other mages to test if these theories were true. In your country, mages weren’t detected or trained; so much that you thought none of you were gifted. The discovery of your talent proved it to be wrong, but it didn’t change the fact that the court mage was the first and only mage you ever met. Your new found curiosity of the subject felt unquenchable, and you couldn’t help but wonder in which category Shinsou fell. You felt like the knowledge of his spirit of affinity could help you know him better. So you simply asked about it.

“What is yours?”

A beat of silence. Then he turned to look at you, deep violet eyes shinning with mischief.

“A secret” He whispered, the low rumble of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. A coy smile was on his lips, but his tone was nothing but serious.

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. Between the light of the moon and the flame of the oil lamp, Shinsou was a two faced almost ethereal beauty. On one hand a warm and reliable teacher, and on the other, a mysterious and cool mage.

His smile, his eyes, his voice; you realized you weren’t indifferent to his charms. And given how secretive and powerful he was, you felt intimidated by that realization. That inclination could give him more power over you. He seemed to trust you but you were sure he did mostly because he could control you; control the knowledge he passed onto you, and handle you with his magic if ever you poised a threat. You were positive he was a better person than his master was, but he kept so many things to himself that it was shady. At first you didn’t mind, simply glad for the many improvements he brought into your life, but these days, you found yourself wishing to know more about him on a personal level. And that was obviously not a good idea.

You unconsciously stepped back, trying to regain your composure. Shinsou gauged your reaction, one thin eyebrow rising when you didn’t comment on his evasive reply.

“Well” You quickly followed up with the conversation, making a show of being annoyed by his lack of answer “if you don’t want to tell me then I’ll just have to guess”

Shinsou chuckled. “I wish you good luck on that endeavour”

You stepped in front of him, all serious this time. “If I find what it is, you’ll have to tell me when I’m right. No lying, no beating around the bush”

Shinsou’s amused expression dropped, leaving place to a more severe one. “Certainly” He accepted. “However you will have to argue for your breakthrough and explain what gave it away. No cheating. No listing all the existing spirits until you get it right”

You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest while your teacher proudly smirked. “It would make for a good assignment” He smugly added.

“Fine” You finally relented, accepting the challenge, but not without giving him a warning and a promise of your own “Just wait and see. I’ll uncover that secret of yours in no time.”