#except it is for a lifetime and they will forever live as a part of us

[poimi]

a child cannot separate from their mother without first violently tearing her heart from her chest

[jadepresentingnipples]

Apparently the way to make me write about my OCs is to get me distracted while writing explanations for my choices on a survey in the tags.

[bolognamayhem117]

Hot Take: Astarion does NOT hate flowers. You just missed a few subtle hints through Act 1 and early Act 3.

Astarion's negativity is directed toward just about anything remotely pleasant as you move through early act three, starting the moment you leave Wyrm's Rock. First thing after Gortash's coronation he marvels near tears at the colors of the city in daylight. If you ask if he's alright, it pisses him off.

There's other instances I can't quite remember but he's a straight crank throughout early Act 3 and it took me several hours of gameplay to have a lightbulb moment about his newly crappier attitude.

He just spent the last two hundred years seeing everything in the overwhelmingly warm dim tones of indoor lighting via sconces, rushlights, and braziers, or the dingy blue gray of moonlight outside. Daylight colors are something he had more than a lifetime to forget and now that he has a chance to remember that vibrancy in his own home town, he knows he's going to have to forget it all over again either by death or by remaining a vampire spawn forever. The worm isn't going to live rent free in his head forever, and killing Cazador to ascend in his place likely feels like an insurmountable and impossible fight against a literal titan who could stomp him flat without a corm of effort.

He doesn't hate flowers, he hates EVERYTHING right now because it's all going away very soon and if he convinces himself he hates everything then he won't miss it when it's all gone again. He was denied this for two hundred years and he's PISSED at what was stolen from him and PISSED it's all going away again.

He behaved similarly in Act 1 about anyone besides him enjoying physical intimacy. Some of this content was cut, to my best knowledge, but the overwhelming majority of his dialog addressing the PC romancing anyone but him are negative or backhanded. This is for two reasons, I think. A: his Simple Plan just dissolved right before his eyes when you chose someone else which in his mind means he has zero safety net, and EVERYONE gets to enjoy sex (key wording being ENJOY, not simply having) except him... And it pisses him off.

He also gleefully interrupts the bug bear and the ogress, I think for the same reason as the above paragraph, being: If he doesn't get to enjoy intimacy neither do they.

He reacts with anger and disgust at anything he's being unfairly denied. Which... That's fair. His feelings are valid, but his reaction to it is pretty shitty and meanspirited.

The other companions I tend to keep in my party, (that is Lae'zel, Halsin, Karlach, and Wyll) however, are actually appearing to behave pretty patiently with him in Act 3 which I find interesting.

In the instance with the flowers Karlach doesn't bother trying to convince him otherwise of his opinion, she just tells him how they make her feel instead and rather than getting snippy or doubling down he more or less agrees to disagree. I also don't recall anyone disagreeing with Astarion during Gale's last quest tasks when he mentioned that he quit praying to gods who wouldn't hear him a long time ago but to be fair, I think the gods did everybody in this crew dirty and they all know it. It seems like they're consciously giving him the space to be mad about things, is what I'm saying.

Everyone I know including myself who crawled out of a long-term hot garbage situation kinda went wild for a bit with freedom, spoke poorly, behaved strangely, had extreme emotional reactions to things, and made some particularly terrible choices. I think that's just a part of recalibrating yourself, healing and learning how to be okay again.

Point is, I wouldn't conflate too many of the turbo-negative things he says with how he actually feels about anything. We certainly know what he says and what he feels are two very different things.

[cassiebones]

Rio Theory

I, like many of you, have been acting under the assumption that Rio is a primordial being, who has been alive since the dawn of humanity with the sole purpose of ferrying souls across the veil.

But what if that's not it at all?

What if, instead, Rio Vidal is being punished. After all, why give Death a name. Yes, it could just be a name she gave herself when she interacts with mortals, like Agatha, to conceal her true identity, and I know the name is akin to "River of Life" but it feels more...formal. Like she was actually born to somebody who gave her this name.

So what if she was?

What if Rio was born a mortal and was given this job after her own death as a punishment for some kind of evil she did. Maybe the "evil" wasn't even evil at all, but something she did out of desperation to try and save herself. Maybe she, too, killed her own Coven. Or maybe she was a necromancer and took her powers too far, blurring the divide between life and death, causing chaos everywhere she want until her own fatal mistake placed her in front of the old gods, who decided her penance would be to ferry a certain number of souls so that she understands just how important that divide between life and death is, that it's not something to be trifled with.

I'm imagining, since she speaks Spanish and Aubrey is Puerto Rican, that she was born in South/Central America, after it was colonized, and her family moved to The New World when she was a child (which is how she ended up in Salem to meet Agatha) and shared their way of doing magic with the locals.

And, while Aubrey is Puerto Rican, in Mexican culture death is a pretty big deal for a lot of us. Día de los Muertos is a huge thing. It's the time when you get to see your deceased loved ones. Maybe somebody important to Rio died. Maybe her parents or a sibling or the woman that she first loved. And she was obsessed with this day where she got to see this person through the veil. Maybe she tried to find a way to make her come back, to raise her from the dead.

But it went wrong and she lost her forever.

So she moved on. She met someone new. They died. She brought them back to life, but it was wrong. They were wrong. They were just a puppet, not their true self. So she becomes obsessed with learning how to do necromancy just right, so that anybody she loves can never just die. She can't lose anybody ever.

So she kind of becomes a serial killer. Just a little bit.

But she can never quite get it right. Nobody is ever the way they used to be. Either they're in constant pain/anguish or they are just not them. And Rio ends up killing her own creations, devastated that she just couldn't bring them back to themselves.

And it weighs on her, but it's still an obsession.

Until she makes a fatal mistake and is killed in response to trying to killing somebody else. And she goes in front of the old Gods, who sentence her to reap, like, a hundred times as many souls as she's tortured in her lifetime, however unintentionally, by forcing them to take part in her experiments. As a witch, since most of her victims were of the magic ilk, she must ferry other witches and magical folk across the veil until she has fulfilled her punishment.

And since witches can live for centuries, she will not fulfill this anytime soon. And she can't kill anybody. If she manages to kill somebody, it resets her punishment back to zero. She also cannot make exceptions for those she loves, no matter what. She cannot bring somebody back to life like she'd spent her life trying to do. There are no loopholes.

And it does teach Rio the importance of Life and Death and why that should never be taken as a joke.

Still, after like two to three hundred years and she's not even halfway there? Rio is getting anxious. She wants to cross over finally. She wants to be done with this punishment. She needs more bodies but she can't make them herself.

That's where Agatha comes in.

Rio can feel the death of magical beings. She feels it when seven witches die all at once, then another witch in the same general area dies just seconds later.

It's like she hit the Jackpot of bodies. So many magical deaths in the space of a couple minutes? She needs more of these!

So she goes to where they died and is practically giddy at the bodies littering the forest floor. Skipping around the circle, freeing the souls from their bodies, practically forming a conga line to the afterlife.

Then she sees Agatha, curled up and crying nearby. At first, she thinks that this is an escaped witch, one who just watched her entire coven die before her very own eyes. She has empathy. She knows what it's like to watch the ones you love die in a violent fashion. And these bodies...they were definitely killed violently. They died painful deaths.

So she approaches Agatha, who is sobbing into her knees. She crouches in front of her and asks if she's okay, if she has anybody she can stay with, anybody else who survived.

And then Agatha looks up and she's smiling, which takes Rio aback. And then Rio notices her black fingers and it clicks.

Agatha isn't a victim; she's the murderer.

And Rio is just in awe of this witch's power. She sits down in front of Agatha and asks, "how?" Because how did she kill all of these witches all at once?

"I wasn't trying to," Agatha explains. Even though she's smiling, there are tears in her eyes. "They were trying to kill me! But something...happened. I've never experienced anything like it. They all attacked me and I just...took their magic. I took their life forces. I killed them." She laughs, somewhat manically. "Isn't that funny?"

Rio cannot help but smile at it. "Hilarious," she says. "Thank you, by the way. I appreciate the work." She motions to the line of spirits behind her, all impatiently waiting to be ferried. Agatha cannot see them, which Rio realizes too late. "It's....I'm not crazy, I swear. But, uh, who's that person?"

She points toward the husk just in front of the stake, where an angry, vengeful witch is refusing to move from above her body.

Agatha laughs, rolling her eyes. "That," she says, "is my mother. She orchestrated all of this."

"Your mother tried to have you killed?" Rio huffs. "What a bitch."

Agatha lets out a cackle at that. "You have no idea," she says, her chin quivering a bit, betraying the hurt she tries not to let show. "I have no idea what I'm going to do now."

"You don't have anybody?" Rio asks, something in her chest aching. It's something she hasn't felt in a long time, since her heart went black.

Agatha motions toward the circle of bodies. "Who would take me now?" she asks. "After what I've done?! I'll be lucky if there aren't already mobs of people waiting for me with torches and pitchforks. I have nobody, nothing." Now is when she lets her facade fall. "I am alone."

"No," Rio says, reaching out to take her hand, "you're not. You never will be again." She intertwines their fingers and feels a spark in her she thought was long dead. She knows that Agatha feels it, too, because she squeezes Rio's fingers.

"Who are you?" Agatha asks.

"My formal title," Rio says, standing up and pulling Agatha with her, hands still clasped, "is Lady Death. I ferry the souls from the mortal realm to the afterlife." She looks back at the spirits that Agatha cannot see. "I actually have a lot of work that I have to do. Thank you so much for that, by the way." She grins at Agatha. "Genuinely," she adds, when Agatha looks a little sad. "This is a huge help. You have no idea."

"You're welcome?" Agatha replies, chuckling awkwardly. They're still holding hands. "But surely you must have a different name I could call you."

"Rio," Rio says. "Rio Vidal."

"A little on the nose," Agatha retorts. "Don't you think?"

"My mother had a sense of humor," Rio says. "And you?"

"My mother was not a funny person," Agatha sighs, "at all."

Rio snorts at that, looking over to where Agatha's mother was practically spitting mad: "And she took my brooch! That was my mother's brooch!"

"Yeah, I can tell," Rio says. "But what I meant was," she looks back at Agatha, "what is your name?"

"Agatha Harkness," Agatha says.

"Ooh, a Harkness," Rio says. "Powerful magic. And based on that purple between your fingers, you must be following in the same tradition of powerful witches. Spirit witch?"

Agatha nods. "I was born under the Blood Moon, which endowed me with certain...powers, apparently." She laughs, bitterly. "Just don't try to blast me with your magic and I won't hurt you."

"You couldn't hurt me," Rio says, "even if you tried. If you took my magic, you'd die. And you are far too valuable to kill. Not that I could, anyway." She shrugs at Agatha's raised eyebrow. "Rules of the trade."

"Well, then," Agatha says, flushing a beautiful pink, "it's a deal: I won't kill you and you won't kill me."

"Fair trade-off."

"I would think so."

They're silent for a long moment, energy crackling between them. Two powerful beings who finally found their match.

It's the start of a beautiful, murderous love story.

By the time they separate, Agatha has made a sizable dent in Rio's debt. Rio pays her back by showing her spells that otherwise probably wouldn't have been available to her. Agatha is so brilliant and studious and passionate, Rio would do anything for her.

Except the one thing she absolutely cannot do when their son dies.

And she finally understands what the Gods meant when they said that life and death are not to be played with, that there is always a cost.

Nicky was that cost for her. Agatha was that cost.

Agatha continued to give her bodies, but Rio never knew about them until Agatha had left the scene of the crime. She never had a chance to meet her again after Agatha started hiding behind the Darkhold. There was no way of getting around it.

Which is why she immediately rushed to her side when Agatha lost it, along with her power. There was no way she was letting her get away again.

[michaelmilligan]

I need to write fucked up Midam. And I don't mean that in the kinky way.

Michael liking Adam, but he's still an archangel and Adam is just a human. The body may have been originally Adam's, but now it's Michael's to use, and Adam only gets to do so if Michael feels like being nice. If Adam is too annoying, Michael will ignore him, maybe even shove him down into the depths of his own consciousness, until his mood lifts and he remembers to pull Adam out again.

They spent a lot of time together in the cage, but compared to the rest of Michael's existence, it's not that long. And humans don't live forever - Michael knows that Adam will be gone within a blink of an eye.

Meanwhile, Adam has spent several human lifetimes with Michael, and he doesn't know how else to live anymore. If he's not with Michael, what is he even going to do? The comment about getting a little job was part joke and part an attempt to see if Michael would let him. Michael scoffed at it, though - and Adam never brought it up again.

Adam has no family, or none that he considers to be family, and no friends or even acquaintances who don't think he has been dead for over ten years. He has no one to return to, nowhere to go. The idea that Michael would leave him, the only person he truly knows in this world and who knows him - it's inconceivable. He would do anything to have that not happen, no matter how much it hurts when Michael pretends not to hear him for a whole day, or two, or when he pushes Adam down.

Adam has no power, while Michael holds all of it. Sometimes, Michael is gracious, and lets Adam eat, or interact with people. He brings them places Adam mentions he wants to see.

But Adam isn't in control. Not of his body, or even his own mind. He loves Michael - must love him, because what else could it be when the thought of Michael leaving makes him feel like shaking and crying, even though Michael would never let his body do that?

It must be love, and so Adam needs to make sure that Michael loves him too, that he will stay with him. He's good at that, at being the good son, the good human, the one who does what he's told and cheers up the person he cares about, without a care for his own feelings. He can make sure that his existence doesn't trouble that person, that the person will never wish they hadn't gotten him, that they will never abandon him.

He's good at that. He did it for nineteen years, and then for a thousand, and he will continue to do it until the day he dies, because if Michael doesn't stay with him until the end, if he leaves, then Adam doesn't know what to do except lay down and die.

[ivystoryweaver]

🦸🏽ANYTHING on spectre marc after readers death please and thank you i am prepared for pain🫡

You burrowed in to the dark parts - the broken, unlovable parts and made him your home. You dwelled, willingly, in the dejected, despondent substance of his soul. A soulmate.

Pairing: Marc Spector x f!reader (from my fic Spectre), but can be read on its own Word Count: 430 Content: angst, major character death…maybe?

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

There's a part of Marc that feels more...right when he loses. When he hurts.

See, he knows how deeply flawed he is - certain he doesn't actually deserve love.

This is because he robbed his mother of Randall's love - of her ability to actually love at all.

He destroyed his once happy family

Violence and isolation followed him for the rest of his life, even after Khonshu saved him

Steven and Jake healed him to a degree, made him whole.

Then came you.

But he knew, he always knew that forever with you would exist slightly out of his grasp - there was no way someone as good as you could ever really be his, not eternally.

Still, you loved him so hard, and so good. You burrowed in to the dark parts - the broken, unlovable parts and made him your home. You dwelled, willingly, in the dejected, despondent substance of his soul. A soulmate.

You weren’t there to fix him - you wanted him just how he was, even when he withdrew, when he pushed you away or pulled back. You ebbed and flowed right along with him. He learned to grow with the fluidity of your love.

And god, he adored you. He lived for you. He moved back to the States for you, happily. He cozied up to nosy, small town residents because it made you feel at home. Every time you felt homey or happy or at peace, he felt like he was stacking a building block, restoring the family and the home he once obliterated.

Marriage terrified him. But for you, he wanted to. He saved. He bought you a ring. He almost let himself believe he could have you as a wife.

And right when he thought of how he might propose…when he allowed his dreams to take root in a shred of reality…

…your light was extinguished from the universe.

For no reason at all, you died*. You left.

You didn’t mean to. It wasn’t your fault.

On the day after he buried you, Marc sat down on the floor, in the middle of your bedroom and felt…normal.

He felt the way he’d always been expecting to feel.

This was his life. This was all he would ever have. Ever deserve.

It felt more right to lose. To hurt.

Except...he had begun to believe life with you was more right.

He suddenly had a soul he shared - a mended heart. And a lifetime of love, with no one to give it to.

And that was the moment his heart truly broke.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Ask me anything. Requests are open!

Marc Spector-Centric stories

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My Fic Masterlist

*Spectre readers know what actually happened here! 😉

[mm-lurking]

Nothing will ever fix us - Jiyan

A/N: Had an idea while I was sick and I ran with it. Warnings: Jiyan x fem! reader, angst with no happy ending, not really proofread I got tired WC: 2444 -- Everyone around you always talked about timing when it came to love. “If you find the right person you will make it work no matter what!” “There is no such thing as the wrong time.” “If you really wanted to, you would have.” It was so easy for them to say. So easy for them to say, you think as your fist tightens into a ball and your knuckles turn white. The item in your fist protrudes into your skin and the irregular edges pinch at the thinner edge of your palms but the pain is nothing compared to the aching in your heart that shows no signs of dulling.

You unravel your fist and stare at the item again. It was a necklace Jiyan gifted to you on your first anniversary together. You remember how surprised you were staring at the J-shaped gold pendant decorated with tiny emerald pieces. The shock on your face as you tried to form sentences only to look like a dying fish had Jiyan chuckling loudly, a sound you so dearly loved to hear.

“Jiyan…I…what-“

“Do you like it?”

He softly asks as you hold the necklace box in your hands. He notes how your hands shake slightly, as if afraid of the weight that the gift holds. One of his slender hands holds onto your occupied hand and he gently squeezes them.

“I- of course I do! But-“

“As long as you like it, my love.”

You gulp as you pry your eyes away from the glimmering necklace and look into his golden ones.

“Jiyan this is too much…and it’s just our first anniversary you can’t-“

“Nothing is too much when it comes to you. Nothing.”

You sense the determination and sheer amount of love he has for you. His voice is firm and resolute as if he’s sure he wants you right now and forever. That there is no one except you in this lifetime and more.

Tears blur your vision and you clench your teeth so tightly that you can feel them aching into your gums. The necklace falls from your palm and hits the floor with a loud thud as you bring your hands to your face and sob heavily. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. You didn’t want it to end like this. What choice did you have?

Jiyan was the perfect man. He truly really was. A well-versed medic and general with a gentle personality who knew when and where to display his power. He was observant; no detail ever slipped his eye and he made sure everyone and everything was taken care of. That is exactly what made you fall in love with him so deeply. You swore this man had no flaw -he was so well-rounded that nothing about him was a problem to you. Sure, he was stubborn and cared more for his troops and others than himself, but don’t we all? Aren’t we all like that for the ones we love? 

Yet when days turned into months, and months into years you realised that perhaps, just perhaps, the downside to meeting such a perfect man was that you were fated to never have him close to you. That when duty called and the lives of civilians were at stake you had to sacrifice your relationship so he could keep everyone safe. The sacrifice of your love was crucial so the army troops were not selfishly sacrificed.

The first few times it was fine. You didn’t mind having to part ways with him because it was part of the package -it was part of dating General Jiyan. You knew what you signed up for and you were ok with it. You were prepared to be lonely because you had been single before, so what was so hard about having a man but just not having him by your side? At least you had a companion, one so beyond your league you still wondered what you did to be blessed with him. You were his and he was yours.

But there is only so much burden a heart can hold. Some nights you couldn’t sleep when your aching heart haunted you instead of a good night’s rest. Some nights your anxiety ran wild as you thought of all possible worst-case scenarios of Jiyan getting hurt or worse…finding out he’s dead. Some nights you stayed awake wondering why you hadn’t received a reply from him when days and even weeks had passed. Other nights you stayed up sobbing into your arms, wondering when you would get to walk around with Jiyan in the city and have fun like all these other couples did. The bed was so cold and empty without him.

However you persisted. When those long nights passed and your tears dried, you washed your face, sucked it up and went to work. You had a duty to fulfill and the world didn’t care how painful it was to practically never see the man who owned your heart. You didn’t hold Jiyan accountable, you knew he didn’t do it on purpose. His long letters to you detailed how much he loved you and missed you and how sorry he was for missing the second anniversary or your new promotion or how he couldn’t make it back in time for the new years and other holidays where families celebrated together…you forgave and you forgave.

Until your third anniversary came around. He had told you he would be there for the day as work had lightened up. He told you he had a surprise for you and that he wanted you to dress your best and meet him at a specific spot. You remember how giddy you felt reading that letter, kicking your feet like a teenager in love and screeching with each word he wrote. Finally! Some quality time with my man! 

If only you knew.

He didn’t show up on the promised night. You waited and waited but there was no sign of Jiyan. The sun rested and the moon rose yet the love of your life wasn’t here. You stood there awkwardly, dressed head to toe like a supermodel compared to the civillians as they eyed you while walking past. Some grandmothers even offered to take you home, wondering what a maiden like you was doing alone dressed like this in such a place. The embarrassment turned into tears that bubbled in your eyes and eventually, you stormed home out of humiliation and frustration. Enough was enough.

The doorbell rang at 11 pm that night. You had changed out of your attire and gotten ready for bed. With a heavy heart, you went to open the door only to find the man responsible for your heartache standing there. You remember the way your tear-stained face turned into one of fury as you stared at him, angry and infuriated.

“Leave.”

There were several million things you wanted to say but that’s all you manage to squeak out. Jiyan stands there with an exhausted face as he looks at you, his heart breaking as he hears the coldness in your voice. You try to shut the door on him but his muscular arm blocks you from doing so.

“My love please-“

“Do not even use that term on me right now, General Jiyan.”

His Adam's apple bobs as he harshly swallows. He knew he messed up big time but he wanted you to listen to his side of the story.

“Something came up. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose. I was going to come to the city but there was an emergency I had to resolve. Unfortunately it took much longer than I expected, for which I apologise.”

You scoff. You had spent this whole time crying and just when you had managed to calm down, of course he had to reignite the tears again. You angrily wipe your tears as you point your finger at him.

“Every single time you couldn’t come to see me, I forgave you. I forgave you for missing holidays, my new promotion, all important milestones in our relationship…I forgave and I forgave and I forgave!”

With each word you speak, your tone gets harsher and louder. Your finger trembles as you jab it into his chest continuously. You were fuming from how much he had neglected you all this time. Jiyan frowns in sadness as he watches you express your anger.

“The one time,” you say shakily, “the one time I had my hopes up for us, the one time I went all out as you requested me to do so… you just had to get me excited and happy only for you to shatter everything into pieces, didn’t you?!”

Hot tears roll down your eyes as you continue to yell at him. He tries to move away from the door and step inside your house but you prohibit him.

“Don’t even think about coming inside Jiyan.”

“Please, listen to me.”

“There is nothing left to listen to! Do you not understand?!”

Sobs wreck your body as you cry even harder. Your head hurts from all the tears you shed today and your eyes show no signs of stopping anytime soon. He extends his arm forward to comfort you but you swat it away.

“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore Jiyan. This…,” you point back and forth at the two of you, “is not working between us.” His eyes widen and waver at your words, unable to believe you would say such a thing.

“If…if you need more time, or a break away from me I totally understand but please,” his voice quietens as he continues, “please don’t leave me.” You can hear the pain in his words and it makes you cry harder but you shake your head.

“Don’t make this difficult for me. You can barely come back to the city to visit your mother let alone come visit me. You have spent most of your life on the battlefield and it’s the only place you ever will be. You don’t have time for me Jiyan, admit it. Admit it that you cannot give me the time and attention I need.”

Your voice breaks by the end of it. You never imagined there would be a day you would have to break up with this man. You truly thought you both would be together for eternity, that no matter what came your way, no matter what obstacles you faced, no matter how difficult things got for both of you, you always thought you both would be together through it all.

Yet that was never meant to be the case.

Jiyan forcefully swallows and stares at the ground for a moment, contemplating something as tears fill his eyes. Then with great sorrow, he looks up at you and awkwardly smiles. You cannot stop crying as you gaze into his eyes, hiccuping through your tears while trying to say something. You wanted to comfort him but that would make your decision harder.

“If…if you ever find yourself wishing for me again, my love…please know that my doors are always open for you.”

You wail like a widow upon hearing those words.

“I am sorry…I am sorry for doing this Jiyan…but this is for the best.”

Your throat burns from how aggressively you’ve cried so far. You shake your head, not wanting to deal with this anymore. The longer he stayed the more difficult he would make it for you to stay true to your words. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before giving your verdict.

“Leave Jiyan. Go. I hope you find your happiness elsewhere.”

His gaze lingers on you for a little longer as he takes in the last of you. You can see him trace your features mentally, etching every curve and crevice of you into his memory to last for a lifetime. Then with a heavy heart, he turns around and walks a few steps before stopping. He looks sideways, just enough for you to see his side profile but not enough for you to see the heartbreak that is visible on his face.

“I will never find happiness in anyone but you.”

Without turning back he walks away, leaving you in fresh tears as his grieving voice rings in your head. You watch him leave until he disappears from your line of sight. A gust of wind shuts your door close, closing off not just your encounter but also your relationship with him.

The flashbacks force you to open your puffy eyes and you slouch against the wall slowly as you slump to the floor. You can’t help but tug on the hairs on your scalp as everything hurts and burns. The necklace he gifted you lays by your feet and you stare at it for a while before hesitantly picking it up while crying. Anger surges through your body and you throw the necklace across the room, screaming in agony as you do so.

You want to hate him for making you feel like this, for taking your heart so lovingly and crushing into nothingness but the logical part of you knows it’s not his fault. You know he would never willingly hurt you and you know he didn’t want to make you feel like this. Yet sometimes as human beings our actions speak louder than words; no matter how many paragraphs of sickly sweet love letters someone writes, no matter how much someone says they will be there for you through thick and thin, their behaviour will speak volumes.

Simply put, he couldn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved and nothing could fix that, not even his letters and gifts to you. And even after two months of breaking up with him, you find it hard to find closure over your broken relationship. You stay there on the floor as you continue to cry your lungs out, letting yourself be a mess. In the distance, your phone screen lights up from an unknown number. You are too occupied in your grief to pay attention to the messages.

[sent 23:07] I…I know you’ve blocked me from reaching you so forgive me for finding another way

[sent 23:11] The battle was tough and I fear I don’t have much time left

[sent 23:13] But if I had to choose this life again

[sent 23:15] And I had to choose to love you again

[failed to send] I would

[failed to send] I would do it in a heartbeat 

[failed to send] I love you

[failed to send] Forever and always

[failed to send] Jiyan ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

織姫

cw. f!reader (afab), canon divergent, manga spoilers, established relationship, dissociation, canon-typical violence, non-linear storytelling

pairing. makima x reader

notes. part of the man is a blazing star universe so i would give the two previous fics a read before diving into this one as it is key to understanding everything here. in a way, orihime 「織姫」 is a love letter to what was originally a duology so i hope old readers enjoy spotting the references! i had a lot of fun experimenting with detailing, when not to use it and even when only relying on only dialogue to carry a scene and i hope the payoff works in my favor.

Dawn is a time of day you appreciate more when you don’t have work.

While you ordinarily complained how the hours in those days vanished before you could enjoy them, dawn has always been the exception. Your early mornings have always moved slower compared to the rest. It’s a slow, quiet whisper you value fully, especially now as you enjoy the sound of the waves as you walk your assorted mix of pets on the beach. You’re sure the two of you look like quite the pair with your seven dogs on their leashes and one of your two cats in a leashed harness.

Makima is a woman bathed in the light of dawn. 

You release a sigh of satisfaction, watching your girlfriend go ahead of you as your dogs stretch their legs.

It’s in how the morning rays dapple her form in near perfect circles. In the hues of her pale carmine hair that cascades across her bare skin. It’s even in the gold of her eyes, much like the yellow sun that peeks through the horizon.

It’s strange to think that this time two years ago, Makima had been a colleague you couldn’t stand to be around. Now you’ve willingly allowed a string of fate the exact shade as her hair to bind you both in the most irrevocable of ways.

“I won’t use my power on you, in exchange, we have to stay together forever. We’ll eat a lot together, sleep together, and live a happy life together.”

The contract of a lifetime ー marriage in its own right.

Gone are the days of patrols, weapons and putting your life on the line to ensure the safety of the general populace.

How peculiar this entire journey has been.

You will never pretend your reasons for joining the Bureau were pure of heart; you’d never dreamed of glory or protecting others.

For Makima, you’d gladly put your entire being on the line.

It goes against the nature of the Control Devil to have equal relationships.

Makima has one with you.

Moral ambiguities be damned. I believe in you. It’s a vow you know you will take to your grave as you watch your lover pause, wondering what has caught her excitable dogs’ eyes. Bagheera’s crooked tail tip twitches in interest, bounding forward with clumsy footsteps and you chuckle as you increase your pace so the cat can see it too. Tora, on the other hand, is comfortable in her backpack carrier. This is how mornings are done in your family. “What’s got the troublesome octet so excited?”

“They’ve found a crab,” her voice is amused and mellifluous. Crab sounds like a wonderful idea for dinner and you’re sure she has the same idea when you hear dulcet giggles slip from her person. Like a child, Makima turns to face you with her lips stretched into a delighted smile.

It’s then that carmine suddenly becomes jet and there’s a mole underneath her left eye that wasn’t there before.

Ah.

“[First], I want crab for dinner!” Nayuta beams brightly.

“Damn you have expensive taste,” you tease in spite of your stupor. Right. Those memories aren’t mine.

The dogs you walk remain but all but two of five of them are different from the seven you could have sworn were with you just a moment ago. Bagheera isn’t with you either, succumbing to his health issues years ago when you were still a child. All that remains of the cats you adopted is Tora, an old lady you left at home to snore on the couch with the Power's new kitten.

“Have ‘em,” Himeno told you shortly after you moved in with her in the quiet town of Shonai. “They were yours anyway. Oh, but Meowy’s always been Power’s.”

The ringed eyes are the only part of Nayuta that is the same as the woman from your memories. The eyes and the braid you know she'll twist her hair into later.

You wish the image of that woman would disappear.

Thankfully Nayuta is seemingly unaware of your dilemma. “I’ll get some in a few checks,” you promise and you receive an impish grin in return. You smile instinctively, your earlier troubles assuaged.

It’s a magic only Nayuta possesses.

The magic is disturbed when one of the dogs yelps in pain and Nayuta guffaws at the display of a small crab latched onto its nose.

You wonder if you had grown up surrounded by humans if you would find her reaction unsettling. As one raised among devils and fiends, however, Nayuta’s reaction is only standard even as she yanks the crab away with ease and tosses it into a returning wave. “That’ll teach you not to play with crabs,” Nayuta laughter subsides into chuckles as she pets the pup’s head.

You love the dawn.

How the wind runs its invisible fingers through Nayuta's hair much like a musician strumming the strings of a harp.

How the light of the sun crests Nayuta's head much like a halo although you're sure the god of such beings will likely you spurn you for the comparison. How ironic that a devil is the closest comparison you have to the opposing pole.

When it’s like this, it’s easy to pretend you and Nayuta are the last ones on earth on this beach.

There are no devil hunters, no other humans and there are no other devils either.

You digress that the truth of your reality is fine, however.

You work 6 out of 7 days in a week at a local convenience store all the while Nayuta pursues a degree through online courses at Tohoku University. Himeno goes to the pub once or twice every other week to indulge in the non-alcoholic beverages her sister allows her to drink. Even Power somehow manages a steady job helping Ichika sell the vegetables she grows in the garden. A well-placed hat and even a Fiend can blend in to some extent.

Work is limited for a Fiend in hiding from the government.

Everything is limited when it’s the Control Devil remaining out of the government’s sight.

“Do you ever wish you could actually go on campus?”

“Not particularly.”

Nayuta’s never really been a people person though, so you suppose it truly doesn’t matter to her whether she can physically attend Tohoku or not. So you subsequently deduce that she likely won’t care that she’ll be limited to working remotely for the rest of her life either.

Nayuta fingers dug into the back of your shirt, body tense. Her abilities required she believe one was lesser than her for her to order them, that was impossible when you were both scared out of your wits cornered with nowhere to go.

The woman kept an eye on you both, weapon drawn in one hand, phone in the other. “I found the C-”

Unwittingly, your mind drifts back to the red-haired woman as you watch the loose strands of Nayuta’s hair dance in the wind. Makima.

You don’t know much about the previous incarnation of the Control Devil save for what tidbits you allowed Himeno and Kishibe to tell you. Himeno did her best to sugarcoat it but blunt as Kishibe was, you know for certain that Makima wasn’t the kindest individual.

“ー kept her on a tight leash when she was alive,” the drunkard raised his flask to his lips for the tenth time in the three minutes. Every fiber of your being burns with a hatred for a man that isn’t wholly your own at the comment. “But even with that leash, she was a ticking time bomb. So keep this one on a leash that’s even tighter. Otherwise, she’ll turn out like Makima again.”

Makima is Makima, Nayuta is Nayuta.

ー is ー, you’re you.

“Hey, Nayuta, pick a country,” you call for the one you love. The one you love. The proof is when she turns and Nayuta is all that remains. You don't hate Makima. You don’t think it’s possible to hate any incarnation of the Control Devil. But Makima is who ー loved and their sun had long since fallen. “One that doesn’t have a devil hunting association in it.”

“Seychelles,” Nayuta doesn’t miss a beat, grinning the devilish grin you adore all the while. “We still need to have our honeymoon.”

A dirty sheet turned into a veil rests on jet black hair while you recited your on-the-fly vows.

“Yeah,” you chuff as you rest your hands in your pocket. “I owe you one, huh?”

A honeymoon and the whole wedding too.

ー

“What’s this new job of yours again?”

“I got a gig cashiering the next town over,” you pinch the green collar of your uniform as a physical display of your employment. 

Himeno’s one eye closes as she hums thoughtfully into her mug, “what about your job at the konbini?” Her smile is as plastered as wet cement.

“It doesn’t pay as much,” you shrug. It isn’t the first time Himeno has made some sort of stir about your sudden change in employment, it likely won’t be the last. “If I’m gonna get paid to kiss ass all day, I at least wanna get paid more than chump change.”

“You make chump change as a cashier no matter where you work,” you choose to ignore Himeno’s comment. When her sister’s sharp stare of disapproval lands on the former devil hunter, you know the conversation will be dropped for now. Thanks, Ichika.

Ichika smiles kindly, always a touch too gentle and understanding. It’s easy to appreciate the woman’s soft-hearted nature. “Well, I for one, am glad you have a pay raise even if it’s somewhere else,” the dark-haired woman tells you. “We both are,” her soft blue eyes dare her sister to disagree with her sentiments. Himeno is smart enough not to voice against them. Gentle as Ichika is, Himeno will always crumble at the threat of her anger. “What time will you be home? We should eat something special to celebrate!”

“Crab sound good this weekend?” At your suggestion, Nayuta perks with interest for the first time since breakfast began. You bump your knees together lightly. With what you’ll be making now, you can afford to buy her crab every night. “I can pick some up before I head back after my last shift of the week.”

On the other side of the table, Power is just as interested in the suggestion. “Crab,” the horned woman inquires with a fiendish grin. “Finally something worthy of my taste buds! Servant,” the Blood Fiend’s strawberry-colored locks whip around in her excitement. It’s only barely doused by the unamused look Himeno shoots in her direction. Barely. “Human,” an improvement. “Make a crab dish for us!”

Ichika takes Power’s demands in stride, “I think crab would be a nice treat. Don’t you?”

Matching blue gazes share a quiet conversation before Himeno relents with a tired smile, “I guess crab isn’t that bad an idea.”

Power guffaws with prideful glee as Nayuta’s expression twists into impish satisfaction. Her few-weeks-old dream of crab will finally be fulfilled. A peaceful glow washes over you as you take in the sight of her drinking miso soup from a finely polished bowl.

Himeno’s house is a far cry from the abandoned building you both once called home.

The wooden floor is clean, not dirtied from even filthier shoes and haphazardly drawn images made with sharp rocks used as chalk. In this house, you have three meals a day. The limit to what you can take is no longer reduced to only what you’re able to carry.

It’s a life you always dreamed you’d one day share.

Although admittedly you never accounted for the additional humanoid bodies living in it. 

“Well, I gotta get goin’,” you slurp the last of your black tea before wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “See you guys later,” you stack your dishes neatly atop one another, waving off Ichika’s attempt to take them from you. “See you later,” you tell Nayuta warmly, pressing your lips against hers for only a  moment to spare yourself from feeling one of Power’s dirty napkins hitting your shoulder. “Have a good day at school.”

“Call me for lunch,” to the untrained ear, it’s a demand. To one as experienced as yourself in the language of Nayuta, it’s a request.

It’s an uncannily peaceful morning for a household of humans, fiends and devils. One that religious zealots would lose their minds over. 

On an ordinary morning you yearn for the comfort of your and Nayuta’s bed and letting the hours roll by as you embark on your quest for work. This time, your stomach twists with discomfort as you hit the freeway.

It’s nearly an ordinary morning.

As you promptly pass the exit that actually would have led to the town next door, you know the last chance for ‘ordinary’ has sailed. The nearly three hours long drive it takes to get to Sendai is long enough for you to stew in your guilt. You park inconspicuously near the woodsy outskirts of the city, thumbs resting on the steering wheel.

It’s too late to turn back now, you remind yourself. I’m doing this for us.

Two adult passports.

Visas.

Housing.

Food.

Permanent Residency.

You’d never be able to save for it all with the chump change you’d been making at the local konbini. Nor would Nayuta ever be able to live a free life under the restrictions placed on you by those who took you in. There is no major country in the world Nayuta can be free in.

Nayuta had been a stranger, once upon a time. A stranger who never existed in your conscience and whose life you never perceived.

Then your eyes met and you experienced the birth of a universe.

You’ll gladly put your entire being on the line.

“Do you want to protect Nayuta?” Your grip tightens for a moment longer before finally reaching for the duffle bag you hid underneath the passenger seat.

“Well yeah, obviously.”

“Then follow two rules. Stay away from major cities and don’t join the Public Safety Devil Hunters.”

You've technically broken only one of Kishibe’s rules.

ー

Your parents used to take the first day of school very seriously.

It was always a momentous time when you went up a grade level. Photos were snapped constantly and after the first day ended successfully, there’d always be some sort of celebratory dinner. When you saw Ichika tearfully take in yours and Nayuta’s uniforms, you can tell things in this household were going to go the same way.

“The two of you are starting to become young women,” she smiled sappily, polaroid camera already in hand. “It feels like it was only yesterday you two came here and now you’re already going to school! You’re both so beautiful!”

Nayuta certainly was, you wanted to say. Her chin-length black hair now stretched to the upper middle of her back, framing her gold-colored eyes perfectly. But that would only make Ichika gush further about how you both were equally gorgeous like a proud mother.

You’d have thought you and Nayuta were infants when you were brought to this house with how Ichika coo’d and aww’d. Except the two of you were already thirteen when you’d come to the Nagano household and a year later, the school term had been going on for a few months. It had been unclear if you’d be starting high school or being held back. Donned in the dark brown uniform of Higashi Middle School, you knew the answer.

Even Power had on a uniform, refusing to be left out of the celebrations.

“That’s right, our little women,” Himeno laughed, holding an energy drink like it was a beer can. “Smile for the camera!”

You were able to turn the corners of your lips into a smile but, if anything, Nayuta’s scowl only deepened.

“Nayuta,” Himeno sighed in frustration. “I know you’re upset that you and [First] are in different classes but we’ve been through this. It’ll be good for you. Ichika,” she looked to her sister for support, blue eyes pleading. “back me up on this.”

Nagano Younger placed the camera down with an empathetic smile, “don’t you want to make friends?”

Ringed yellow eyes practically glowed as Nayuta sharply looked at the woman, “what do we need friends for? All [First] needs is me.”

The Nagano sisters shared a look that was a mixture of concern and exasperation. The primary debate of the weekend had finally reared its ugly head just before you were due to leave. Before either of them could say anything to placate their youngest ward, however, Power's manic laughter filled the air. When she had her fill of amusement, she rubbed the bottom of her nose as her laughs faded into chuckles. “The Great Power was once this immature,” Once? “Nayuta!” She points a sharp nail in the direction of the only other non-human in the house. “Stop behaving like a child! You’re reflecting poorly on my teachings!”

“Bark like a dog.”

Power dropped on all fours and barked the moment the demand left Nayuta’s mouth. The actual dogs in the house went into an excited frenzy, barking alongside with her.

“What did I tell you about taking your powers out on people because you’re upset,” all hints of playfulness left Himeno’s body in favor of displeasure. “Nayuta,” she placed her energy drink on the table at the young devil’s silence. Ichika sighed quietly, placing her camera down before she quietly turned to the kitchen.

“The two of you need to learn how to interact with people. Outside of the house,” the former devil hunter took a glance at the barking fiend. When she sighed, you knew Himeno likely thought that even the interactions within the house needed some work. “Now hurry up and turn Power back.” Nayuta directed her gaze to the nearest window instead. “Nayuta, I’m not asking.”

“Just wait a moment,” Ichika’s lark-like voice rang from where she went about her business. Hurriedly, she arrived with two bowls of ice cream in hand. With her sharp sense of smell, it captured Nayuta’s attention immediately and she held out her hands expectantly. “Don’t you have something you need to do first, young lady?”

Nayuta blinked, seemingly confused as she followed her gaze to where Power crawled on the floor. In the blink of an eye, the barking stopped. “Thank you,” Ichika nodded in satisfaction before she finally handed you both a bowl each, winking at you knowingly.

Power returned to her feet, cheeks hot with anger but whatever she was going to say, she stopped in her tracks the moment you held the bowl of ice cream Ichika gave you directly under her nose. It only took a beat before the Blood Fiend grinned, lifting the bowl as if it's her newest kill. “Gahahaha! I suppose I can accept your humble offerings,” you snorted quietly at the display. If anyone was the child in this house, it was her.

Himeno threaded her fingers through gray and navy blue hair with a whiny sigh, “everyone in this house wants me to age, Ichika. And we can’t just use ice cream to bribe her into behaving! Why does she get ice cream if I don’t get to keep beer!”

“Because your doctor said to either quit or be placed on a liver transplant list so you’d have a head start,” Himeno withered under her sister’s less-than-amused glare. “And I hope you savor that energy drink. Remember what we agreed on - one can per month.”

“And it’s always the smallest size possible,” Himeno grumbled, looking much like a child herself. If you hadn’t known who the older sister was, you would have assumed otherwise. “And low in sugar so it tastes absolutely disgusting.”

Ichika ignored the jab, knowing her sister would drink the disgusting low-sugar drink regardless. “Nayuta,” she began thoughtfully. “I know how important it was for you that you and [First] be in the same class. But there are going to be times when you have to interact with other people and we want you to be able to navigate those times with ease. There are going to be more opportunities for you both to be in the same class, we just want you to be okay with times where you aren’t.” When Ichika looked to you for assistance, Nayuta’s golden gaze turned to you as well.

We can socialize and be in the same class at the same time, can’t we? Truthfully, you hadn’t been thrilled with the class assignments either. It had been you against the world before you met Nayuta when you were left alone on the streets of Beijing. Not knowing what would happen to you with your parents gone, school didn’t seem all too important. You think you might have liked school, you truthfully can’t remember. You even had friends, good friends. You couldn’t seem to remember their faces either. Too much had happened to hold onto those memories.

The last time you’d been in school, you were seven.

It took a fair bit of home study for you and Nayuta to be ready for even middle school. If you had to go to school again, you wanted it to be by each other’s side. The school administration had different thoughts, it seemed. But underneath Ichika’s hopeful eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to spurn her goodwill. You liked Ichika, she was kind. “If we’re in different classes, we can go on dates for lunch. And I can walk you to class each day, like in the movies.”

It’s only when she heard those words that Nayuta looked even remotely enthused about your separation.

“See?” Ichika’s smile widened in her appreciation.

“Alright,” Nayuta leaned against you, not entirely pleased but no longer entirely upset.

It was a solid victory as far as Ichika was concerned.

The rest of the morning went smoothly. Nayuta and Power indulged in their ice cream and when they were finished, Ichika indulged in getting her celebratory photo. Power held her peace sign while yours and Nayuta’s arms were linked tightly. Lunches packed and promises of an extravagant dinner made, the two of you finally left home hand in hand.

ー

“I know damn well that a Fish Devil costs more than that,” you scowl at your employer. “I didn’t drive over two hours to Sendai for you to stiff me on the price. I’ll take this to Yamaguchi if I have to.” That’s the problem with these underground devil hunting jobs. If someone wants to short change you, they will short change you. It’s been five months since you’ve begun your dealings with Nishida and the oaf never ceases trying to pull the wool over your eyes.

“Come on now, [Last],” the slimy businessman raises his hands as if placating a child. He looks more like a Pimp Named Slickback with his crinkled purple suit than someone who works in devil hunting. You suppose one working under the table can’t complain. “We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

“Tell me that when we’ve known each other for a decade,” you point your gloved finger against the desk two, three, four times. Each thudding strongly against the tabletop rattling the bloody axe you’ve placed on it. “550,000 yen. I don’t want even a decimal less.”

Nishida’s lips curl in dismay, “have I ever told you that you’re a real bitch to work with?”

You’ll continue to be one until you’ve gathered all you could, “acknowledgement from the queen of bitches is a real honor. I want my check.”

He rolls his eyes and calls you a few more choice swears under his breath, but he finally complies in writing a check with the correct amount. If you had been anyone else, perhaps Nishida could have paid you the 230,000 yen without issue. Perhaps you’d have even considered that a steal. Your training under Kishibe and Himeno taught you more about pricing devils than you were prepared to admit.

What are the ethics to killing devils when you are dating one?

You decide to follow the devil code of ethics. Kill or be killed, it’s that simple.

It’s never been a question if Nayuta would spurn you for such acts if she were to ever learn of them. It’s the fact you know Nayuta would follow you to Sendai in a heartbeat.

“I found the C-”

You will never bring those unfinished words to reality.

Carefully you remove the gloves on your hands to even more carefully extract your wallet from the ziplock bag you keep it in, placing your check within its pockets. Then you tuck it all away once more before donning a clean pair of gloves instead.

“Ugh, I’m getting hot just looking at you,” Nishida groans, eying you as if you were equal parts insane and excessive. You wonder if he’ll ever get used to the lengths you go to make sure no trace of blood and the smells of other devils touch your person. You don’t even put your axe in the car, it hasn’t been there since it had been a new purchase. No, you keep the rusting thing right here in Nishida’s crappy building in Sendai’s slums.

Trying to hide something from Nayuta’s nose is like trying to rob a bank blindfolded. “I told you already, I don’t want the blood getting on me. Killing devils is gross,” you wave the man off. Five months you’ve been doing this and you haven’t slipped up yet. Your ritual is the same each time ー before you start hunting, you dress in what is practically a glorified hazmat suit. Once work is done, you take it all off with gloves covering your hands and dump it in the trash.”

“It just seems like a lot of hassle,” Nishida scratches the back of his head, nonplussed. “If this ever gets in the way of your job, don’t come crying to me.”

“This coming from the man who doesn’t do the hunting himself is crazy,” you click your tongue in unsurprised annoyance. If it means keeping your proclivities a secret from the house, you’ll wear the hazmats again and again. “I’m not coming in tomorrow, I have a date with my girlfriend. Something you know nothing about. Well, you did. Until about a month ago, right?”

The look on Nishida’s face almost makes you feel better about his attempt to scam you. Almost. “Just go home before I decide to take my offers of employment elsewhere!”

You chortle with pleasure as you finally exit his dusty office.

When you arrive home, the wind must have blown your scent through the door or a cracked window because you walk into Makima’s arms the moment you pass through the door. “Welcome home, [First],” Makima greets you adoringly, red tresses brushing against your jaw. Her arms are as warm as her voice, wrapped around you as loose as one called the Control Devil will allow.

It’s instinctive, how quickly you return the embrace. “That professor finally off your ass?” Strange. Since when has Makima been a student?

Nayuta pulls away from you slightly, just enough to look you in the eye as you converse. Nayuta is the student, you remember. Business management is what she studies. “I don’t know why he-” Nayuta blinks as she takes all of your visuals in. “[First], what’s wrong?”

Your smile falters, “it’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Tired of the memories that don’t belong to you. “Management just really loves working their best employee.” You’re happy tonight is Himeno and Ichika’s pub night where they never drink alcohol but do engage in the card games with the locals. Himeno’s been trying to catch in the midst of a lie you’re sure no one can detect. 

“Want me to talk to them then?” Nayuta is too quick to offer her services. I’m earning more than enough now. “I’ll get you a manager’s salary too.”

“Nah,” you shake your head. “I just want it to be tomorrow for our date already.” You’ll be dying silk scarves in town and then you’ll head to a restaurant. If it weren’t for the restrictive life forced upon you by the world you live in, maybe the two of you would live somewhere more exciting. Somewhere with more than enough novelties for you to gawk at in awe.

Nayuta snorts at your dramatic lament, “you’re so cheesy.”

“You’re the cheesy one,” you blow a raspberry against the juncture between her jaw and neck and Nayuta squeals immediately.

“Gahahaha!” Nayuta ducks away and you giggle in return. She’s always been a bit ticklish, you’re simply the one lucky enough to do so without repercussions.

“I know ways to make tomorrow come much faster,” Power’s snark cuts through your flirting like a dull knife. The Blood Fiend rarely ever sits still unless it is mealtime or she is watching something thrilling enough. The evening news normally is usually not something that makes Power lay down in the middle of the living room floor on a throw pillow yet here she is. "Being stricken with blunt force guarantees many hours to pass you unknowingly.'

You raise an eyebrow at Power’s unwarranted attitude, “what’s got you in such a shitty mood?” 

“They mentioned the Chainsaw Devil on the news earlier,” Nayuta recounts as if telling you the weather report. She looks over her shoulder at where Power lays coolly. “It’s the anniversary of when the Bomb and Chainsaw Devils showed up in Tokyo.” Right, I forgot. They only showed up once however many years ago and still the news would cover it like it could happen again at any moment. You secretly believe Hayakawa Power hopes for the same. You never met Hayakawa Denji, you only heard the stories. He sounded like an even bigger handful than Power.

Power is all that remains from everyone who once claimed the Hayakawa name as their own.

“Don’t mention that name in front of me!” Power snarls without looking in your direction. She doesn’t move to change the channel regardless.

“Pitiful,” Nayuta comments but her grip around you tightens in spite of it as she rests her ear against your chest.

Pitiful.

You open one too many bags of popcorn while Nayuta puts on one of the Inazuma Eleven DVDs Power got on her birthday last year. The five dogs excitedly run around the house to the sound of Power obnoxiously singing "Stand up! Stand up! We love football!" Tora is content to rest on your lap and Meowy the Second takes off with her second popcorn kernel.

To wait this long for someone who ran away and never looked back is pitiful.

A Power who isn’t living up to her proudly chosen name is even more so.

You breathe in the scent of Nayuta’s shampoo as she rests her head on your shoulder. It really is too damn pitiful.

ー

“You ever wonder why there are devils but no angels?”

One of Nayuta’s classmates’ words piqued your interest from the other side of the room. Nayuta’s eyes followed yours in vague interest at the students piled in the corner. The only one you personally recognized was Yamada Moe, your class’ president. True to your word, you were on a date for lunch.

As much of a date it could be at school, anyway.

Everyday the lunch hour reared its delicious head, you’d make your way to Nayuta’s class to eat with her. “I mean, think about it. If devils are physical manifestations of the things we fear, why are there no physical manifestations of the things we love? Like, there are plenty of people who love snakes. So why’s there no Snake Angel?”

“A Chicken Angel would be pretty damn powerful then,” a different girl, likely the class clown, chirped. “But would angels be biblically accurate?” Her eyebrows move mischievously at her suggestions.

“Don’t say that,” Moe covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled. Her deep dark brown hair, the color of charred wood, is pulled back into a ponytail and her green eyes sparkled at the thought. “I’d love to see a Hamster Angel then.”

“Or even a Mermaid Angel! That would be so pretty!”

“Mermaids aren’t real, Rika.”

“Neither are zombies but there’s still a Zombie Devil,” ‘Rika’ sputtered in her defense, cheeks pink. “Everyone’s afraid of zombies and everyone loves mermaids, so both would exist by that logic!”

You considered their words with a silent hum. Himeno said she met an Angel Devil once, I think. I wonder how strong he is.

“ー and Makima had promised me to protect him if anything ever came out about him but, well,” Himeno trailed off before vaguely gesturing towards you. You remembered the discomfort of it even as the woman brushed it off with a warm palm placed on your head. “It’s fine though. Kishibe’s given me no updates concerning him and in our business, that’s a good thing. That twerp is doing just fine.”

If an Angel Devil is the manifestation of humanity’s fear of angels, you wondered what a Devil Angel would be like.

“Rika, Tomoko,” Nayuta placed her chopsticks atop her empty lunch box before resting her cheek on her hand. “Give me your desserts,” she yawned. Beneath the table, her legs twined with yours.

“Sure thing, Nayuta,” Rika beamed, holding up a pudding cup enthusiastically.

Tomoko nodded, looking relieved, “my mom packed me too many things anyway.”

Moe glowered in your direction.

It was almost reminiscent of the times you were both street urchins and Nayuta used her powers to ensure you’d be able to eat that day. The only difference is, as Tomoko and Rika walk the moderate distance to your half of the room, that you no longer are that desperate to eat. Nayuta smiled when she saw, among their treats, was an anpan roll with roasted black sesame seeds. Sweets were the secret to this young girl’s heart, all hints of disinterest washed away. Cute. “It’s one of your favorites, [First],” enthusiastically she opened the packaging before raising it to your lips. “Does it taste good?”

You relished the mixture of bread, sesame and adzuki beans on your tongue, “yeah, this is pretty nice.” You looked over at the unsuspecting girls who are too happy to help. Too happy and unaware of the reality of the situation. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” Rika brushed off your gratitude with a dispassionate wave of her hand. “What kind of angels would you guys be excited to see? Mermaid Angels would be pretty cool, right?”

You shrugged, not wanting to reveal your inherent bias, “I can’t really imagine what an angel would be like. We’ve never seen one.” 

“I just think if we had angels, they would be the ones fighting devils,” Tomoko sighed wistfully, light years away from where you were gathered in class 3-C. “Love is the strongest thing in the world, right?”

“The power of love is cheesy,” Nayuta scoffed.

The three of you ー Tomoko, Rika and yourself ー shared a look of varying degrees of disbelief.

“Since you find it so cheesy, maybe you can finally stop blocking the halls when you makeout and cuddle in the hallway,” Moe rolled her eyes from where she still sat, nose scrunched in equal measures of disgust. Her eyes held your own with a look of annoyance and you couldn’t hold back a snort.

“We are pretty annoying, huh,” you snickered, winking at how Nayuta was still holding the pastry near your lips. Laughter of agreement followed your admission from those sprinkled across the room save for two individuals. If Nayuta had been someone else, perhaps she would have withered under the scathing eyes of class 3-A’s president. Because she wasn't someone else, though, she met the glare with her own. “Even the Love Devil would hate us,” you bit into the roll once again, stealing Nayuta’s attention.

“The Love Devil is probably ugly anyway,” Nayuta replied with a petulant smirk.

Lunch continued without further hiccups, much to your relief. The desserts were eaten and the desks were back in place and it was time for you to head back to class. Nayuta still wasn’t entirely pleased at your class assignments, but she got better about it the following months. The ‘dates’ and walks had kept her placated.

“Thanks for that, [First],” Himeno sighed gratefully when Nayuta was in the bath after your celebratory dinner. “When are kids supposed to stop having temper tantrums? We really don’t need her having one at school. You have to be her anchor.”

You’d have done that even if Himeno didn’t want it. “I’ll pick you up after class,” you told Nayuta unnecessarily but you knew she liked the reassurance. You’d always come back for her even if there was distance standing in the way of that.

“You can make out with Nagano later,” Moe scoffed as she walked past you to room 3-A.

Nayuta glared over your shoulder at the brunette, “she’s ugly.”

“I do gotta get to class though,” you sighed heavily, throwing an arm over Nayuta's shoulder. She returned the gesture with both arms thrown around you. “My adoring fans in 3-A await me.”

“You don’t need your adoring fans when you have me,” Nayuta hugged you tighter and you don’t find yourself disagreeing.

You tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “that’s pretty true. Those guys mean nothing. You’re my number one.” Gold eyes looked at you like you were a dream before you had to turn around.

“Why do you even like her?” Moe scoffed as you caught up lazily. “She’s awful.”

“She’s cute,” your lips curled at the waves of irritation directed at you further. 

Moe’s expression contorted into one of disgust at your answer, storming ahead of you. “People like you disgust me. You’re bullies.” We still sit next to each other so you’re not really doing anything, you know. Knowing it would be pointless telling the girl that, you looked over your shoulder to wave at Nayuta one last time before ducking into class. 

“At least pretend to pay attention,” a quiet whisper from your right caught your attention. You shrugged, unbothered. You’ve withstood more terrifying things. Whatever you failed to do, that only seemed to upset the class president even further. “Follow along with the text before the teacher calls on you.”

“I forgot my textbook,” you whispered back, directing your eyes forward.

“You didn’t think to ask someone to look at theirs?” Moe asked incredulously.

You thumbed in the direction of the empty desk to your left. Kinomiya wasn’t there to mooch off of that day. “And it isn’t like you like me, or anything. I’ll just get the notes from someone else.”

“Unlike you, I’m a good person,” Moe muttered, raising her desk just enough that it wouldn’t make a sound as she pressed it against yours. “I’d have shared if you asked.”

“There are no good or bad people, just good or bad actions,” you countered her belief with one of your own. There aren’t even any devils that are purely bad. They only become bad to you because they killed someone you care about. Or because they destroyed something you considered precious. But if there was a devil that killed other devils and rescued people, you’d say they were good.

This philosophy could be applied even to angels.

Angels would only be considered good if they did help humanity fight against devils. If there were angels in an unseen place known as Heaven, they definitely didn’t feel called to fight against the apparent wicked. They didn’t feel called to defend the apparent helpless humans of Earth. And by that definition, that would make them bad creatures. Angels would be bad to you. “And if you have to say you’re a good person, you’re probably not as good as you think you are.” Moe gasped, brow furrowed in her offense as you leaned closer to read the page. “Thanks.”

She couldn’t have made it more apparent how much she hated you with how quickly she separated her desk from yours at the end of the day. You shrugged, not particularly bothered by the reaction.

Some people never meshed with each other and that was that.

Moe hated you and you were indifferent to her existence.

You initially believed Nayuta’s thoughts were the same as yours until she started wiping your arm as if it were filthy after school.

“You stink,” Nayuta’s nose scrunched in obvious displeasure, rubbing your arm as if she could scrub the smell of Yamada Moe away. Even now you were in awe of how strong her sense of smell was; Moe hadn’t even been wearing perfume. “Why do you smell like her?” If she meant to be intimidating in her glare, she failed before she could even try. Her furrowed brow was more cute than nerve racking. 

“I forgot my textbook so we had to share,” you recalled the glares and looks of dismay. “She was not happy about it. I think Bags was lying on it so I didn’t see it when we were leaving.” You’d simply remember to check your book bag more thoroughly tomorrow morning. When you were a sizable distance from campus, you recalled the earlier discussion from lunch. “What did you think about all that angel talk at lunch today?”

“That humans are dumb,” as if realizing how that sounded, Nayuta pressed against you as you walked down the path apologetically. “99% of them.”

“You can say it, a lot of humans are dumb,” hands still woven together, you side step away just long enough to playfully tug Nayuta against. Power’s characteristic ‘gahahaha’s slip from Nayuta’s lips again, you aren’t sure when she started unconsciously mimicking her. It’s cute though. “Angels are just angels, even if they did exist. And it wouldn’t be like there’s a guarantee they’d want to just help humans either.”

“That’s because humans are arrogant,” Nayuta didn’t hold back her criticism with her concerns of offending you assuaged. “And they want to control the nature of everything. Fish swim, plants photosynthesize. Hurting is fine for devils.” 

You chuckled at her choice of words, “I’d be the Pride Devil.” You took ownership of the inherent arrogance you possessed as a human of this good year. 

“You’d be the [First] Devil,” Nayuta argued head tossed back joyously at the thought, giggling all the while.

“I don’t think enough people hate me for that to happen,” you chortled as you swung your hands back and forth. “Class Prez might, though. Maybe I should watch out. What if a [First] Devil does show up, am I gonna be replaced?”

Nayuta snorted affectionately, gold eyes bright like the sun, “you’re so dumb.”

A peaceful silence fell over you both and you released a satisfied breath. You wanted moments like this to last forever. “One day,” you looked at the orange-red sky above. “I’m gonna get old. At least, if I don’t die before then. But whatever ends up happening, we’re gonna be different,” you promised before Nayuta could protest what you’d begun to announce. “We’re not like them.”

ー and Makima’s time was too short; you’d heard that enough times since living with the Naganos.

That wasn’t going to be you and Nayuta.

“We’re not gonna be like them,” you promised, squeezing her hand tightly. “We’re gonna live forever.”

ー　

When was it when the image of Makima began to haunt you like a ghost?

You remember now, it had been in October of your first and last year of middle school when Nayuta finally started braiding her hair. You’d been fine that morning up until she came to the kitchen and you dropped the jar of pickled radishes, quietly sobbing until you caught a fever.

“Do you hate my hair being like this?” Nayuta asked in the quiet of the room you shared. It’s large and spacious, fit for three people. You never understood why the third bed in the room was kept when Nayuta never slept in any bed that wasn’t your own. The dogs and cats got a kick out of it, at the very least. So did Power who was shuffling about in the kitchen, banging pots and pans.

“I think it’s pretty. You’re pretty no matter how you do your hair.”

“I found a picture of the old me in Himeno’s room. The old us. She had her hair like this in all of Himeno’s memories too.”

“You used your powers on Himeno?”

“When she took a nap the other day. I wanted,” Nayuta trailed off, arms wrapped around her knees and eyes downcast. You were too hot to cuddle but she sat on the floor by your side anyway. “I wanted to know what the old me was like. Himeno didn’t like her very much. She liked the old you better. She liked that Aki person more though.”

Power’s Aki, you recalled from the photos  in a photo album Ichika made for Power’s birthday. “Himeno likes you though. I told you before, we’re not ー and Makima. It doesn’t matter if she didn’t like her.” Maybe Himeno had a thing against redheads.

“She thinks it sometimes. I can tell.”

I know.

“The old man said I was selfish when he met us.”

“I like that you’re selfish. We both get to be selfish at this point. Do you know how long we were in that dump?” You shared a laugh at the memory of the dump in question. The mattress was old as sin, rock hard and the blankets you owned couldn’t keep crickets out let alone the cold. “I miss robbing that one guy with the dolphin apron. He made the best dumplings. Wish we could have found the secret formula so we could still make them.”

“Humans can be dumb but the food is really good,” Nayuta’s lips turned upright.

You shift a bit so you can lay on your side, facing her more clearly, “do you remember what it was like in Hell?”

Nayuta shook her head, braid dancing to the motion. “Only little bits and pieces, but it’s blurry,” she disclosed, words soft. “I only remember wanting to leave soon.”

“When I was a kid, I always thought I was missing something,” you hold out your hand and Nayuta’s fingers slip into your own. You never knew another hand could be this warm, not even when your parents were alive. You don’t think you’d truly been warm until you met the girl who changed everything. You wanted to hold onto this life; hold it for as long as you could. You disavowed that there’d be a day you’d stop being you and Nayuta stopped being Nayuta and the new versions of you would run into the dawn hand in hand. You and Nayuta would live forever. “I’m really happy that I found you.”

Any sentimentality in the room was immediately blown away by the sound of Power kicking open the door.

“We have a doorknob, Power,” you groaned. Then you caught a whiff of the smell of broth, chicken and vegetables and raised yourself into a sitting position. Taking note of your realization, the strawberry-haired fiend puffed out her chest proudly as she presented the tray to you. The bowl was filled to the brim with soup, sloshing over the lip as she stepped forward and the crackers were worse for wear because of it. “You cooked?”

“Homemade! Straight from the can!” Power placed the tray on your lap, hands resting on her hips. “You humans are fragile creatures, so I decided to grant you my assistance.”

You had to purse your lips together to prevent yourself from laughing. “You know what, thanks, Power,” you let the fiend have her moment. Her homemade straight-from-the-can soup smelled pretty damn good.

ー

“Ichika, are you dating anyone?”

“What brought that on so suddenly?”

You shrug from where you sit at the kitchen table. “Because you never go anywhere unless it’s the farmer’s market,” you point out deftly. Work and home, that’s all either Nagano sister seems to have time for, save for the occasional pub night. No one in this house has much of a social life when you ponder it for more than two seconds. “We were kids before but it’s not like you don’t have a life now.” 

“You’re all still kids to me,” Ichika’s laugh is light and playful, like she’s daring you to protest otherwise.

“Power might be,” you lean back in your chair with a quiet snort. “She’s always been a handful.”

It’s rare for the house to be this quiet between the dogs and Power. The former are on a walk with Nayuta and the latter tagged along with Himeno to the market. Power has a child-like nature you doubt will ever fade. If something happens to Ichika and Himeno, what’s going to happen to Power?

“I recall all three of you being handfuls,” Ichika continues washing away at a plate with a laugh. “I’m not sure how you remember it but you and Nayuta had your moments too.” You remember your last first day of middle school and how Nayuta turned Power into a dog. You can recall many instances of Power falling prey to Nayuta’s power, truthfully. Himeno hated it. “Well, you had the least amount of tantrums, so I suppose I can give you that.”

You snort, lips curling in amusement, “name one tantrum I had.”

“I distinctly recall the time you were upset Himeno ate your leftovers.”

“That was different,” you cross your arms resolutely. “I counted everything I had left and put the numbers on the box!” If Power has a child-like nature, Himeno is a permanent child at heart. “I told her if she wanted something, to let me know. But she didn’t! She just wanted to mooch off my plate!” How many times has she put me through this? She hasn’t changed since I quit working at the Bureau.

“Himeno, I’m getting something to eat. What do you want?”

“It’s okay, I’m not hungry.”

“Himeno,” you eyed the woman with your lips pressed together and eyes narrowed. “I’m getting something to eat. What. Do you want?”

“Nothing, ー, geez! I’m not even hungry!”

“Liar, because I know damn well the moment I get back you’re going to want whatever I’m having! You know what, at this point, get your ass up. We’re leaving.”

“Wow,” Himeno held a hand against her chest, mockingly crushed. “This is how little you trust your best friend? I thought we had something special.”

“I trust you as much as I trust Nanaka not to poison me the first chance she gets,” you’d only been working for Japan’s Public Safety Devil Hunters for a month and the brunette still hated you. Apparently the transgressions of being assigned the partner of her beloved Makima was too heavy a crime. “I think I saw a new Italian place open up by the convenience store ran by that Brazilian couple I told you about.”

“Are you alright, dear?” You rub your forehead as if the motion will chase away ー’s memories with a vengeance.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I never worked at the Bureau, you remind yourself. And I don’t want to. I’m no hero. That was ー’s desire. You only desire that which is most simple. “But you never answered my question. We’re not kids anymore.”

Ichika sets aside her wet rubber gloves on the drying rack, wiping the remnants of moisture onto her apron. “You don’t have to worry about me, [First]. I’ve never been the social butterfly, my sister’s always been the brave one.” You wonder what memories Ichika recalls as she takes a seat in her usual spot across the table. “That’s why she became a devil hunter. But even when we were in school, she got along with everybody.”

“You said you were in the tea ceremony club, right?”

She perks up in pleasant surprise, “that’s right! I’m surprised you remember!” The summer before you started high school, Ichika pulled out their old yearbooks from when they were students. “It feels like just yesterday both of you were in high school.”

“It basically was just yesterday.” It hadn’t been long at all since graduation and your classmates flocked out of Shonai to various major cities across the country. Everyone but the two of you. “High school was… better than middle school.”

“That it was,” you know from the slight frown on Ichika’s face she is remembering exactly how much of a mess your time at Higashi Middle School had been. So much so you transferred to Kitahoro Middle halfway through attendance. “It was hard for the two of you.”

ー

“[Last]?” A voice that twinkles like a bell calls for you. “[Full name] is that you?”

It’s a little past lunch that Saturday afternoon and the day is sleepy for both humans and devils. You hadn’t seen so much as even a trace of devil activity, deciding to have an early lunch after tossing your weapon of choice underneath a dumpster in a back alley.

You turn around at the sound of your name, fearful it is Himeno who has found you.

Thankfully, this person is Himeno’s opposite in every way.

Their eyes are green instead of blue and their hair is a dark brown instead of navy.

I know this person.

“Oh, Class Prez,” you blink in realization. Yamada Moe, in the flesh. “It’s been a while.”

ー

On a school day like any other it announced that Kiritani Tomoko had been killed by a devil. Rare as that was in a small town like Shonai, everyone had been shaken up. 

“How ironic,” you heard the whispers from the adults around you. “It was the Rooster Devil. How ironic when her family raises chickens. Even here in Shonai, devils are everywhere.”

Adults who in the same breath greet Power and Nayuta with warmth whenever they are seen walking down the street.

Hypocrites.

Tomoko’s death is unfortunate but you won’t pretend it was something that impacted you personally. To the president of 3-A, Yamada Moe, it was an unforgivable blow. You didn’t see her during lunch in 3-C, nor did she come back from lunch despite leaving her bookbag and pen on her desk.

“Rika’s not here, either,” Nayuta told you when you pointed out the empty desk.

You aren’t saddened by the death of Kiritani Tomoko but you know of a death you couldn’t recover from.

So you don’t fight it when your teacher tells you to find where Moe has slipped away to and you don’t drag her back from the ponytail when you find her crying on the rooftop either. “Hey,” you closed the door behind you.

“Just go away,” Moe shuddered, holding herself tighter. “Why are you even here?”

“Hori-sensei wanted me to come find you.”

Moe raises her head with hot anger, eyes red and weary, “like you suddenly care about being a good student.”

“I told you before, didn’t I?” You plopped on the ground in spite of Moe’s protests, hands resting on your lap. The autumn wind is comforting against your skin and the rolling clouds are fluffy. An unsuspecting day to learn someone from school died. “I don’t believe in good or bad people. People just do good or bad things. But I get it,” you shrugged lackadaisically. “Nayuta does a lot of bad things. It isn’t like I’m a saint either, we’ve done plenty of bad. If that makes us bad people to you, that’s fine. But I get what it’s like to lose people too.

“My parents were good ones. But some asshole hit them with their car when I was seven and I was stuck on my own until I was thirteen,” what would have happened to you next if you had left things to the authorities around you? You’re unsure. At seven years old, running away seemed like the best option at the time. No princes would be coming to save you so you became your own prince. “Devils. Cops. Figuring out what to eat. The other people out on the streets could be the worst too. I got into a lot of fights back then.” All to lie in a building the government had yet to demolish. “I thought the world ended. Or at least my place in it had. If I never met Nayuta, I’m not sure how much longer I could have kept going like that.”

Spotting movement to your left, you looked to Moe and your eyes caught one another.

Red as her eyes were, they were wide at your confession with her mouth slightly ajar. “It’s corny but when she’s here, I feel like I can do anything.” Survive on the streets for months or even fight devil hunters that were planning to kill you before you could blink. “So she gets to do awful things. Nayuta can do the most awful things in the world. She’s perfect.” She’d been perfect the moment you met her. “So I can’t say much about being sad about Tomoko, because I didn’t know her like that. But I know how it feels to lose someone and I know what it’s like to be terrified it’ll happen again. So for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Sorry,” Moe murmured. "Thank you."

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, you’re the one upset.”

...

“Aren’t you supposed to make me go back to class?”

“I’ll just tell Teach I got lost or something,” you yawned. “It’s none of his business.”

“You’re actually a good person, aren’t you?” Moe sniffled, resting her forehead against her knees. “You just pretend to be mean.”

“Good people don’t exist,” you sang, watching the clouds roll by. “Now mean, that I can be.”

“Now you’re being stubborn,” Moe muttered under her breath, sniffing again. “You’re good. It’s just being with Nagano Nayuta makes you act like a jerk.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to like her,” you close your eyes with a light smile. “The less people realizing all her positive sides, the more Nayuta there is for me.”

“I don’t know how you stomach being around her,” you shrugged. “She’s like poison. The two of you together doesn’t feel right. She doesn’t feel right.

You open one eye, “what do you mean?”

“It’s just a feeling I get,” Moe explained vaguely, twisting her hands together anxiously.

.

“Nayuta, don’t use your powers at school for a while.”

“Why not?”

“I found the C-” “Yamada thinks there’s something off about you and everyone else is still on edge about that last devil attack. So it’ll be better to lay low until everything calms down.”

“Who’s that?”

“My class’ president. You know her, you think she’s ugly.”

“... Do you like her?”

“She’s alright, I guess. She’s just a classmate.”

“What about me?”

“You’re everything.”

Nayuta leapt onto your back in her satisfaction, legs wrapped tightly around your waist. “I’ll leave the humans at school alone then.”

“Don’t use them no matter what, alright? We can just get extra snacks on the way home from school or something.”

“I won’t.”

ー

“You cut your hair, it looks good!”

“Thanks,” Moe plays with a lock of curly hair, boyishly short. It suits her rather nicely. You look freer. “It’s surprising seeing you here. What are you…?” She glances quickly at the hazmat-style onesie you’ve dressed yourself in, plastic visor raised above your head.

“Got a janitorial job and I’m taking no chances,” you lean against the cold bench lazily. “I never mocked a janitor before but I damn sure am never going to now. Those guys are the unsung heroes of our society.”

“Janitori-” Moe snorts in her shock, looking like you’ve grown two heads. “I always figured you’d become a philosophy teacher considering how you were back in middle school”

“Nayuta’s signed up for classes but I’m taking a couple years off to save,” what you plan on majoring in when the time comes is unknown even to you. Perhaps Moe is onto something with philosophy. “We can’t mooch off our benefactors forever.” What’s going to happen to Power if anything happens to Himeno and Ichika, you find yourself pondering once again. A third passport shouldn’t be that hard to forge. Kishibe got me and Nayuta into the country without any problem, didn’t he?

“Oh, where is she going?”

“She’s at Tohoku too,” you nod at the Tohoku University tote bag resting on Moe's hip. “She’s doing everything virtually. Business Management major.”

There’s little surprise on Moe’s part when she hears that, “Business Management sounds like something that suits her.”

“She is pretty bossy, I can give you that,” you huff with an airy sigh. Management is something Nayuta will definitely thrive in. “She’s a damn good student though. What about you? What have you been up to? Majoring in law?”

“Philosophy, actually!” She laughs at how your eyebrows raise. “Surprising?”

“A little,” you nod and Moe rolls her eyes in playful exasperation. “But with all the arguments we had, philosophy or law honestly made the most sense. So I wasn’t that far off.”

“Those weren’t arguments, those were debates,” Moe corrects you needlessly, arms behind her back. It’s almost like all the tension left her when she cut her hair.

“You’ve mellowed out, Prez,” you whistle, impressed.

A younger Moe would have asked what you meant with a furrowed brow. The Moe of the present day accepts your words with a hearty laugh. “I was a bit high strung back then,” she lets out a nostalgic sigh. “Maybe more than a bit,” she admits sheepishly. “But middle school really feels so long ago. I guess I changed without noticing.”

“Sorry about middle school,” your lips curl into a grimace. “The stuff with Nayuta I mean.”

Moe’s eyebrows knit together with an empathetic curl of her lips, “it’s okay, I get it now. You were under a lot of stress back then.”

“How’s Rika doing?” You vaguely remember that girl who Nayuta would pawn snacks off of. “She going to Tohoku too?”

“Oh,” Moe shuffles nervously.

“What, did she drop out or something?”

“No, um, she never went to university,” Moe fiddles with a bracelet on her left wrist.

You raise an eyebrow at the odd behavior, “is she… dead?”

“No!” Moe answers quickly and you cock your head to the side, shrugging your shoulders. Okay then what is she then? “It’s just that she… became a devil hunter after we graduated.”

“Okay,” Good luck then, Rika. If you’re in Tokyo maybe Kishibe’ll be the one in charge of your training. As much as you hate the man, everything he’s taught you has kept you alive so far. You see green staring at you. “What?”

“I’m just surprised that you took that so well,” Moe breathes in disbelief. “Considering everything with Nayuta, I was afraid to bring devil hunters up in front of you.”

Your blood runs cold. “What do you mean ‘considering everything with Nayuta’?”

“Did-” Moe blinks once before she covers her mouth in horror. “Did you not know? I’m- I’m so sorry-”

“I found the C-”

.

“How did you know Nayuta wasn’t human? When did you figure it out?”

“When… that time back in middle school. She didn’t look human to me and when you went to her I just thought… in that moment Nayuta being a devil is why you were always so protective of her,” Moe’s head looks around the alley you’ve brought her too cautiously. It’s deep, deep within the darkest crevices of Sendai. “Where are we? Why are we here?”

You look at Moe and then the dumpster beside you, “I have to tell you the truth about something.” Your thumb brushes against your middle and index fingers for a moment. “I’m not really a janitor. I’ve been killing devils for the past seven months now. It’s underground work though.” You tell Moe this news as one might tell their friend they decided to plant tulips in their garden, reaching for where you slid your axe underneath the grimy trash heap.

“Devils?”

“Yeah.”

Moe looks at your rusty blade, caked in the blood from those you’ve killed thus far. “... But Nayuta,” she is unable to bring herself to say the rest.

You laugh, leaning against the wall for half a second before deciding you can’t stand the feel of it against your back. Nor do you wish to feel the eyes of Moe upon you. “Yeah, it’s sick isn’t it? She’s a devil but I’ve been out here for the past seven months killing ‘em. But Nayuta,” black hair and red rings fill your memories. “she means everything to me; I was alone for years until I met her. I have never cared that she was a devil. She was perfect, she’s still perfect. If anything ever happened to her, it would feel like the entire world was ending. I used to be a cashier, you know, but try making enough money to sneak a devil out of the country at your local 7-11,” you laugh humorously. “And I know you’ve never liked Nayuta but for me, Nayuta is everything. So please… please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t, [First]!” A foot steps towards you, voice full of emotion. “I didn’t like Nayuta before but I get it now! There are good devils out there and I’m going to prove it. That’s why I’m studying philosophy! If humans and devils can understand each other, we wouldn’t have to kill each other anymore!”

“She means everything to me,” your fingers dig into your palms as you repeat yourself weakly. She’s the best thing you knew you needed in a world that had nearly beaten you down for good. The one you would find repeatedly no matter the time and distance that separated you. “What am I doing? Killing devils for money like this when I know…” your shoulders sag. “But I can’t do anything else for her. I can’t earn money fast enough otherwise and I don’t have time to wait. I’m sure… this makes me a bad person, doesn’t it?”

“You are not a bad person,” Moe’s hand is warm on your back even through the layers you wear to keep yourself from being bloodied. “It’s not you that’s wrong, it’s the world itself. If enough people just realized that, things would be better.” A world where humanity and devils lived together in harmony? It seems like an impossible dream; perhaps it is one not within reach. Not within the lifetime you currently possess. And that’s okay, I’ll make my own happiness even with that fact. “You’re just trying to do what you can for the one you love in a shitty situation. Nayuta would understand that. So… so don’t beat yourself up about this. I never told anyone about Nayuta and I’m never going to.”

There was nothing familiar about her black hair, nor the mole under her left eye. You were sure you couldn’t say you’d ever met anyone with golden eyes with red rings in them either. There was no reason to feel like your senses had been set ablaze and the universe shifted.

You didn’t know this girl.

This girl was a stranger.

You knew this and yet you still fell to your knees as warm tears flooded your eyes without your permission.

You breathe.

“By the way,” you yawned, as it dawned on you that you never once asked for your new companion’s name. “what’s your name?” 

When there was no immediate response, you thought the girl fell asleep. “Nayuta,” you finally heard the feathery light reply. Nayuta pressed herself closely to your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

“I’m [First],” you squeezed.

Nayuta squeezed back.

You breathe.

“I didn’t, [First], please believe me! Don’t leave me!”

You slide down your visor.

“We can get married for real when we grow up,” you vowed once more as you clumsily led each other in your dance.

Nayuta’s smile was saccharin, “promise?”

“Promise.”

And you breathe.

“Hey, Nayuta, pick a country. One that doesn’t have a devil hunting association in it.”

“Seychelles,” Nayuta didn’t miss a beat, grinning the devilish grin you loved all the while. “We still need to have our honeymoon.”

The back of your fist strikes Moe’s throat before she has time to react.

“Don’t worry at all, Prez,” you kick the woman to the ground, grip on your axe tightening as you sit atop her. “I know you won’t tell anyone.” You wonder what those forest green eyes see when they look up at you, eyes wide as she gasps for air. You hold her jaw in place, gloved fingers digging into her skin.

“Stop-” her words come quiet, hoarse. “I won’t tell! I really won’t tell!”

She won’t say anything. No. She might. She hasn’t snitched in all these years. She could change her mind. Cut off her tongue. Her fingers too. And the toes. All of it needs to go.

“I could cut off your tongue,” you feel her breath hitch from she freezes under your touch. You feel the beat of a pulse, pounding like a drum. “but you could still use your fingers. I could cut your fingers and you could use your toes. I could cut off everything and you’d still probably find a way to get out a message with the stumps too.” Tears swell in Moe’s eyes and you barely feel her fists beating into your shoulder. I’m glad I hit her in the throat, you finally take note of her barely audible, ragged whispers. “You can say you won’t talk until you’re blue in the face but there is nothing that can stop you from ever changing your mind. I’m sorry. I really did like you.”

See? I became a bad person to you just now, didn’t I?

The weight of your axe is heavy as it follows the push of gravity guiding your hand into soft flesh below. There’s a quick breath, a gurgle, that slips from Moe’s lips and you raise your axe again.

Red droplets strike your visor and you raise your axe again.

Muscle and sinew decorate the dirty earth around you and you raise your axe again.

Again and again even when what you strike is hard rock instead of flesh until you raise your axe a final time, and you hear metal clink that isn’t your own.

Your neck cracks from the force you whip your neck and the devil flinches when your eyes meet, not daring to press its raised hand to the ground. When you look closely, you see a twisted green soda can wobbling underneath it. Your shoulders steadily heave from your fatigue, neither of you moving a centimeter. You can’t hold back a tired laugh from the absurdity, resting a hand on a knee as you push yourself up. “Sorry,” you titter, neither of you blinking as you step to the side. “You’re hungry, aren’t you,” you gesture to the body, still warm. “It’s okay. Eat it.”

The devil’s mouth trembles, eyes flittering between you and the still lumps on the ground. It takes a step back.

You blink, letting your hand hang loosely against your leg. “What are you waiting for? I said eat it.”

As if coming back to life, the devil on all fours takes one step forward - then another - until it rushes past you to begin its feast. You raise your visor when the devil turns its head, jowls soaked in blood, eyes narrow. It eats stiffly, eying you and the axe in your hand. You smile reassuringly, eyes soft.

The Rat Devil should be about ¥600,000 right?

ー

Nayuta squeals when you lift her feet off the ground as you laugh maniacally, arms safely tucked underneath her back and legs.

An evening walk on the beach is just what you need after a trying day at work. The moon is full and the evening Shonai air is sweet unlike the stink of the city, heavy with exhaust and blood. Thanks for not being a bitch this time, Nishida. The Rat Devil cost as much as you estimated it would, if not a bit higher.

The life you lead isn’t perfect but it has its moments.

“We’re going to fall!” Nayuta shrieks but her grin is wide and shining under the moonlight. She’s almost like a siren, you think, as the waves accompany her voice. The sand squishes underneath your toes, kicking up the waves as you spin and spin. One day when you carry her like this, she’ll be in a beautiful dress and veil just like you talked about when you were kids. 

“Relax,” you tilt your head back, tasting the ocean spray on your lips. “I’m never gonna drop you!”

ー

“[First],” Himeno calls in a sing-song voice as you walk out the door. “Wait for me, kiddo! I need you to give me a ride!”

Your hand grips the car handle as you tilt your head back with a loud groan, “Himeno, I’m going to work.” The sun hasn’t risen yet nor have the morning birds begun singing their songs. Eight months you have been able to successfully stave off this conversation.

Eight months.

You hope to make it nine.

“Wow,” Himeno jeers, undeterred and you know your stomach will be heavy with dread if you’re unable to shake her off your tail. Eight months you’ve been able to successfully avoid this conversation with Himeno and you don’t plan to break your record. “Someone gets a job and the moment she starts moving up in the world she forgets about all the people she met along the way.”

“Yep,” you click your tongue. “I'm one of those people. So it looks like you’ll have to wait until someone else decides to be your chauffeur. I’ll call Sebastian to retrieve you later.”

“So they’re paying enough at 7-11’s for you to afford Sebastian’s rates?” Himeno whistles, impressed and awed as she rests a large stack of ¥10,000 on top of the car. “Can you recommend me a position? If I’d known that, I’d have left Himeji’s ages ago.”

Blue stares into [color].

Wordlessly, you sit in the car and Himeno follows suit, quiet as you pull out of the driveway and far from the coziness of home. She waits nearly ten minutes to the hour before she opens her lips, a smile in her voice that is frigid. “You have the look of a killer now,” your eyes flit to your reflection in the rearview mirror. “I wonder how many things you had to kill to get eyes like that.”

“What’s the issue with killing,” you mutter, eyes on the empty road. How she found the money is of little consequence. She has it and that’s all that matters. “Why did you make me learn how to kill them if you didn’t want me to do it?”

“Those skills were for protecting yourself,” you scoff at her answer. What’s self-defense to her will never accommodate your ambitions. “Not going out of your way to get yourself killed. As long as you’re living under my roof-”

“Oh don’t worry, we won’t be living there for much longer,” you cut off your benefactor.

“We?”

“We!” The car comes to an abrupt halt as your glares turn on one another. “You and Ichika aren’t going to be here protecting us forever! You think Power actually has the ability to live on her own in a world of humans? You’re not going to live forever!”

“And you think you are?!” Himeno laughs at the ludicrous presumption.

“I’m going to figure things out by then!”

Three adult passports.

(I’ll need the forgeries too.)

Visa.

Housing.

Food.

Permanent Residency.

(Can’t believe I forgot about ticket costs. Where do I go for illegally flying devils out of the country, huh? And the pets. What do I do to bring-)

“[First]-”

“And I don’t need your help to do that! And I don’t need to be under your roof either, I’ll move out! I have enough!”

“ー stop!”

“I’M NOT ー!” Himeno balks as you scream, slamming your hand against the driver’s window. The glass cracks but it does not shatter. “ ー isn’t coming back and the one you’re stuck with now is me! And I know you hate that and you have to be reminded that your best friend died every time you look at me but I am not her! I’m never going to be her!” Those memories would never be yours. Makima was never going to be yours. Makima is Makima, Nayuta is Nayuta. The difference is night and day. “I’m not like her! I hate her! I hate,” your voice cracks and you rest your head on the steering wheel, squeezing the handle tightly. “I hate it. I hate that you only want to see her. You never want to see me.”

“When Kishibe brought you both to me, I wanted to take you in immediately. And I have to be honest, a good portion of it was because of who you used to be. But I know you, [First],” a hand rests on your back, warm, but you’re too tired to brush it away. “You’re brave and kind and you look out for the people you care about even if it means you have to take the brunt force of everything. Nayuta has no idea about this and it’s because you want to keep her safe.”

“I don’t want her to come to the city and be discovered again,” “I’ve found the Control Devil.” The five words you fear hearing the most. “A life where Nayuta can be free. That’s all I want.”

“I see you, [First]. I see you and I see Nayuta and I’m very proud of who you’ve become and the people you’ll grow into for as long as I get to see it. I just haven’t been doing a good job showing that and for that, I’m so sorry,” her voice is cloyingly thick and in spite of yourself, your eyes feel hot. “Even if I could go back and stop ー from dying, I wouldn’t. I would never give up having you in my life, not even for her. You, Power, Nayuta. All three of you are precious to me, younger sisters I’ve always wanted.”

“You already had a younger sister, idiot,” you wipe your nose against your sleeve, disregarding your disgust for the trail of snot it leaves on the fabric. “Does Ichika mean nothing to you?”

“More younger sisters,” Himeno laughs wetly. “The four of you give me a life that’s worth living. I love it when Power plays her anime at the loudest volume possible. I can even look back on Nayuta and Power’s fights with a smile, isn’t that funny? At the time those situations weren’t funny but that’s how sisters are, I guess. And you always thought you could be slick hiding that you could be as much of a brat as the rest of us. Well, except for maybe Ichika. You should have seen her when she was four.”

You laugh despite yourself, “Ichika was probably the most well-behaved four year old on the planet. You probably made your parents want to send you back to the hospital.”

Himeno chortles, “only half the time.”

A pleasant silence falls over the vehicle.

“I think it’s time to call Grandpa Kishibe and finally move from this place. The house is getting too small,” Himeno leans back in her seat and stares at the leather ceiling. “The geezer should foot the bill for everything, he never even sent me child support.”

“Nayuta wants to go to Seychelles,” you follow Himeno's example, resting against your seat. It's dawn now, you note the fingers of the sun peeking behind the clouds and painting the sky hues of rose, indigo and vermillion.

You love the dawn.

“I know a place even better than that,” it’s supposed to be a wink but with the eyepatch, who can tell. “Remember that Angel Devil I told you about? The place he lives is pretty damn snazzy and warm all-year round. A place where even devils can live freely.”

ー

You barely had time to dry your hands on your skirt when Rika burst through the bathroom door, chest heaving. “[First], come quick,” the girl’s eyes were wide with fear. “Moe and Nayuta got into a fight!”

You bolted through the door, shoving Rika to the side.

Class 3-C was a mess by the time you arrived and calling what likely happened was a disservice to what you were welcomed to. Desks were skewed to the side as if a tornado had blown through it, food strewn across the floor. No one noticed your presence, not when Moe sat on the floor holding her jaw, battered and nose dripping with blood and Nayuta’s short form towered over her with silent menace.

“Nayuta, stop,” you stand between the devil and the human foolish enough to invoke her wrath.

“Why?” Gold eyes glowed harshly.

“You’ll kill her.”

“Why do you care if she dies? You said she didn’t mean anything to you. So I don’t understand,” Nayuta appeared to stand perfectly still but you could hear the tremor in her voice. From rage or from wanting to cry, you didn’t know. “Why are you protecting this girl? I’m all you need. Aren’t I?” Taking a half-step forward, Nayuta gripped your arms as if they were her lifeline. “Aren’t I?”

One year ago, not long after you turned thirteen, a blazing star sought refuge in your chest.

The birth of the universe.

Within that birth, you willingly took a devil’s hand and ran across the playground of the divine welcoming all damnation.

You’d do it for as long as she wanted you.

“From now and forever, we are going to stay together. We’ll eat a lot together, sleep together and live a happy life together,” you hold Nayuta to your chest, closer than what is possible between devils and man. “More than anyone in the world, you’re the only person I need. And I’ll never want anyone else either,” you whispered, brushing your fingers against her silky hair. “I told you before, didn’t I? We’re not like them. You and me are gonna live forever.”

“You want to be with me?”

“I want to be with you.”

“You’ll stay with only me?”

“I’m always gonna stay with only you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Let’s go home, okay?” When you felt the weak nod of your beloved, you wrapped Nayuta’s legs around your waist. Your initial steps were shaky, pacing backwards for a few seconds before you caught your balance. 

“I love you, [First],” Nayuta’s arms trembled around your shoulders and you hear the telltale signs of hiccuping.

“I love you too,” you held her closer if it was possible.

Warm droplets fall against your neck.

ー

Nayuta looks beautiful in her white dress, veil trailing delicately along the white sand.

translation notes.

織姫 「orihime」 - weaver princess

“If I became the monster to everyone but us and made sure we got home again, who would care if we’re unjust?”

[oathkeeperoxas]

Hello, my friend! 44 or 71 for Icemav, if you're still warming up? <3<3<3

ELWEN yesssss going wild for this one. Forehead press my number 1, you will always be famous to me

71. lingering forehead against forehead, consumed by each other and barely having enough strength to breathe

The call comes at 6:43pm.

Ice lets it ring for three trills, still in that limbo of not knowing. Dead, or not dead? And the less important question of if the mission was a success or not. These two things are not related to each other. A successful mission could still mean a dead pilot. If that's the case, then he's already living in a world without Maverick Mitchell. If that's the case, then he has five more seconds of not knowing about it, before the knowledge sinks its teeth into him, inescapable.

He picks the phone up. He's has a lifetime of doing the hard work, making the terrible choices that no one else wants to make. He can't avoid this forever, and he wouldn't want to, so he puts the phone to his ear and listens, and when he puts it down he has to lean his elbows onto his desk, face in his hands. Gut swooping like he's just pulled an emergency barrel roll and hadn't had the chance to prepare for it. Sick, like he's grown so used to over his treatment, sick, like he's really going to throw up. But he's had a lot of practice with this too, so he swallows it all down neatly enough. There's still work to do, maybe more work, now that they'll have to switch to soothing Russia's ruffled feathers at having their sovereignty impinged upon. Mav and Bradley won't be back in the country for another day at least. He has plenty to do to fill the time until then.

The seconds tick past, and the minutes dribble through his fingers, and the hour hand on his watch inevitably ticks forward. He gets into a shouting match with the SECDEF and is called into conference with the JCS and watches as updates on the pilots who flew the mission trickle into his inbox. Mav's medical report is last, which means he only nibbles on dinner, a bad habit that Mav would scold him for. Ice would take it, would take any words from him, as long as he he here to speak them.

He works through the night and gets to sleep somewhere about quarter to five, and is back at his computer before ten. Mav's report has come in, and while it doesn't look great, it's not all bad news. He's walking under his own power, and while injured, apparently isn't in too much pain. Ice holds his own reservations about that. Mav's never enjoyed telling an authority figure everything. Ice will get the truth out of him when they see each other next.

All the pilots are in flight back to North Island, which means they're out of contact even if Ice wanted to reach out, which he doesn't. This isn't the first time that Mav has been on a mission and Ice has been able to do nothing but wait for him to come home. He prefers to wait to see Mav in person before they talk to each other. It's better that way.

He fends off orders to fly to Washington, at least delaying until tomorrow or the day after, and makes up for it by sitting on conferences all afternoon while typing away furiously at the dozens of emails that have landed in his inbox. Everything is a flurry of activity, everything needs his attention now, and yet he puts everything aside when he sees that the transport has landed at North Island, and that all the pilots have been taken for debriefing, except for the two who spent time on the ground, who have been shuttled to the base hospital. Ice packs up his laptop and notifies his driver, and is on the road immediately.

He's not in uniform, so manages to fly mostly under the radar until he hits the two Marines standing guard outside Mav's hospital room, who only give way when they recognise him. Ice bids them to wait outside, and closes the door behind him when he enters. There's a curtain that's hiding most of Mav from his sight; the only part of him that Ice can see are his feet, which are bare. His toes are poking out from the side of the blanket that Mav has thrown over him, and Ice is hit with a wave of emotion that's as irrational as it is powerful -- Mav's feet are uninjured. His toes are okay. He can see that. It makes it hard to breathe, and he steadies himself before stepping forward, not wanting to cough and worry his partner. This is not a moment for Mav to be worried about Ice.

"Did you bring me some real clothes?" Mav grumbles. "I'm not wearing this. This is an attack on decency. I'm fine. I don't need to be here. Who do I have to speak to, to go home?"

Ice closes his eyes and musters himself after that volley. Then he moves forward under full sail, to stand at the end of Mav's bed and lay a hand on his ankle.

"I didn't bring you any clothes," Ice rumbles, voice hoarse from all the speaking he's been putting it through today. "And you can come home when the doctors say you can leave."

"Ice," Mav says, eyes wide, and Ice can't stay away from him anymore. Mav is already struggling to sit up, and Ice sits on the bed and ropes his arms around him, lashing them together. Mav makes a low sound, torn somewhere from deep in his chest, and presses their heads against each other. Ice tilts them so their foreheads are together, noses and mouths close, breathing the same air. "Ice," Mav repeats, desperate, and Ice wants to squeeze him and never let him go for scaring Ice so badly, for coming to him in the first place and asking to do this, for daring to get shot down and for making Ice receive the news that he's dead, only to be told that he'd pulled off the impossible--

Ice presses a palm to Mav's neck to feel his pulse, and they're both gasping against each other, clinging like they're at sea and the other is their lifeboat. Like lovers to be parted on the morrow. Like they'll never get another day quite like this one.

"You scared the shit out of me," Ice manages, and Mav barks a laugh through his tears.

"You're telling me," Mav manages, cupping a hand on Ice's cheek and wiping away the wetness under his eyes. "I was pretty scared myself."

"The kid?" Ice asks.

"He's better than me. Young bones, and all that."

Ice can hardly breathe. He pulls away to clear his throat, and then comes back to lay his head on Mav's shoulder and press his face into Mav's throat. Mav's hand rests on the back of his neck. There's still so much to do. Ice can feel the weight of his emails piling up in his inbox. But he can put off making the hard decisions for an hour. He can let himself be human for an hour. Mav's arms have the power to protect him. He hasn't lost that privilege. He hasn't lost Mav.

"If you think I'm letting you do anything like that ever again--"

Mav laughs. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I used that one favour up. Won't happen again. We're even now -- how about we don't do that to each other again, yeah?"

It's good he's sitting down. The dizzying relief would have forced him to anyway. He lays a kiss over Mav's pulse.

"I don't think cancer and flying into a deathtrap are particularly equivalent," Ice grits out. "But I'm willing to overlook that if you are."

Mav cradles him gently, laying kisses against his crown. "Sounds like a plan to me."

Ice sighs and sits up. "Are you okay?" he asks. "I know you've been lying to try and get out of here faster."

Mav sniffs, pretending to be offended. "They're not falling for it," he says plaintively.

"Good. Start telling them how you really feel. I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon."

"Yeah?" Mav asks, looking up at him.

"Yeah," Ice says softly. "Gotta keep an eye on my troublemakers."

Mav's eyes crinkle into his familiar smile, and Ice is home, home, home.

A hundred different kisses prompt list

[streets-in-paradise]

Third Fate - Achilles x Fiancee!Reader

Requested by Anon

" Hey, I found your tumblr and I'm loving what you do here, mostly troy. I don't know if you're getting requests, but if you are, you can make one for Achilles based on that scene where he's told he can go and win glory in battle and have his name spoken for centuries or he can stay and be loved, have children, wife? I would love to see Achilles receive more love, with a wife and children. Feel free to make any changes you want, thank you very much in advance."

Hi, anon! I got this way sooner than what i expected because I was really in the mood to write it. The bittersweet mix of angst and fluff was exactly what I wanted to get into this week. Hope you will enjoy it :)

For a lenght concern i kept it in a pre war, pre marriage discussion of the prophecy. If once you read it you happen to like what i wrote here let me know and I can post a continuation showing what happens next ( i originally planned to do so, but it became too long so i prefer to save that for a second part)

Word Count 3.200

Warnings: Standard Achilles sexyness ( no smut, but if you watched the film you understand what I mean with this.) Some aspects of both, the canon of the film and the source material it is based on, were changed to fit the request in my envision of the story.

Summary: Terrible news disrupt the eve of your engagement to Achilles. He is called to fight in Troy and the spectacular war that the gossip foretells seems to be the destiny of greatness he had always dreamed with, but the price he has to pay for it is his happiness with you. The three days ultimatum Odysseus gave him is his moment to decide, but he won't do it without you.

Note: Inspired by two prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting

Prompt 1014 - " Well, the prophecy was a bit unclear about this part."

Prompt 1010 - " Let's not worry about the future. Let's just take this one kiss at a time."

"I like how that sounds."

Tags: @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @helie-brain

There was no easy way for him to explain to you what he had just found out. After Odysseus arrived bringing the news of the war in Asia you were already sad thinking of the distance that would keep your fiancé far away from you for an uncertain amount of time, but the real hardships surpassed your expectations. The whispers of fame claimed the conflict escalated enough to become the greatest war your world had ever seen, but you still imagined it as one war like many others he fought before. No matter the challenges found in battle, Achilles would always return to you. 

Except that he wouldn’t,not from Troy. His mother told him of an old prophecy announced before his birth assuring that war would be the peak of his consecration as a hero, but the price for this glorification was his death. From this fact fate allowed him only two options of choice. He could either stay in Greece and be loved during his lifetime knowing history would forget him, or go to Troy to make his name immortal facing his doom. 

To the end of his tale all you could do was cry, convinced that you were losing him forever. All your plans faded in just one instant, the life you dreamed together was gone. 

“ I’m not dead yet, look at me.” He sweetly mocked you. “ How can you be so sure already that I’m here to tell you I’m abandoning you to get myself killed?” 

You could tell he was trying, but that wasn’t making it any better. 

“ If you don’t go, you will regret it. “ Was your dry comeback. “I know you, Achilles. You live to fight, staying away from the battlefield feels to you like a punishment. I can never keep you for long, not even when war calls you to fight other greeks. Why would it be different this time? You were born for this war, not to labrate the fields and raise goats. If Troy is the fate of greatness that you deserve, I can’t ask you to abandon this life purpose for the sake of our wedding.” 

Despite how much he loved to see people worshiping as a hero, he was very aware to be a man in your eyes. Your approach was realistic and showed how well you knew him, much better than some of the men bleeding with him in war. If you fell for him, you did it knowing what to expect. Begging him to change his nature to fit the requirements of peaceful domesticity was never in your plans and you wouldn’t try it even if you were desperate. 

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to surprise you on occasions, exactly as he did when he proposed to you freshly arrived from the victory against King Triopas and his giant Boagrius. 

“ Do you think I wouldn’t give it all away for you? Then I guess you don’t know me as well as you claim. “ He teased you with insistence. “ I can do well raising horses, I have some magnificent ones already. Do you know that horses are one of the most remarkable exportations of the trojans? If their city gets sacked by greeks and I manage to buy a few of theirs to mix with mine we would get an excellent rare breed. “ 

You cleaned your face and warned him against the mockery. 

“ Don’t play with me! With the memories of your proposal still fresh, fate demands me to let you go. Being your wife is my dream, but I can’t have you knowing I would be destroying everything you worked so hard for. The immortality of your name is a cause bigger than me, the happy marriage we could have had or the children I could have given you. It can’t be a coincidence that this war gets unleashed precisely now, just as we are taking the first step to formalize our union.” 

“ They are pressuring me to choose, it’s true, but the load of this decision lies in the fact that I want both more than anything.” 

Achilles interrupted himself to take your hand, inviting you to abandon the distance you were forcing ever since he began to explain the situation. 

“ I need you by my side, it’s the only vulnerability I have ever allowed myself. A glorifying death doesn’t scare me, but surviving far enough without you would be torture.” 

Your lips parted in sincere amazement for that confession, so unusual of him. 

“ A slow agony. If the war doesn’t kill me first, lovesickness will.” He continued. “ The comfort of lonely men fighting in foreign lands is dreaming with their distant wives at night, the hope of returning to them makes life bearable. I would not have this, from the moment I would board my ship I will be aware you are lost to me. All I would have is the wound of my pierced heart still bleeding love for you and plenty of time to wonder how wonderful it would have been to make you mine… Sooner or later I would lose my mind. Knowing glorious death would be the only comfort already promised to me, I would roam the battlefield searching for it. It’s most likely I would perform incredible acts worthy of being remembered, but I would do it as the insane man who is desperately looking for the warrior meant to kill him. The poets would write for centuries about the madness of Achilles.” 

“ Aren’t they singing that already? Many people have described you as a madman.” You teased him, unsure of how to comfort him. “ Not that I mind, but that is a fact.” 

“ They have no idea, unfulfilled passion would consume me in such an incredible way that Paris would feel a reasonable man hearing about me.” 

He dragged you even closer so he could hold you in his arms and you fell for his touch chuckling sweetly. 

“ Would you be competing against both princes at once while fighting the trojans?” 

“ The warrior prince and the lover boy wish they could compare to me, I win in each one of their expertise areas. “ He followed your provocation, then whispered at you. “ I fight as fiercely as I love. “ 

You bit your bottom lip to avoid an audible response, but your flustered face was speaking for you. For an instant you felt as if nothing had changed between you and you have never heard the terrible omens. 

“... Maybe that’s why no woman is meant to have you, the great goddesses would be jealous. “ You theorized out loud while caressing his cheek. “ It’s too much, like Icharus flying too close to the sun… Although I would be lying if I deny I would gladly burn and fall for you.” 

Achilles stopped the flow of words taking your breath away with kisses that numb your senses, but not your mind. He had the habit of expressing important things in short, ambiguous phrases or not saying anything at all. When the hungry kissing began to escalate and you felt his hands roaming the sides of your body you understood that was his answer. If he would be saying goodbye, he would at least try to keep himself distant to make it easier for both of you. Given that his involvement on the war would ruin your chances to formalize, he would be encouraging you to find someone else. 

 He was pulling up your skirt slowly, evidently searching for the heat underneath. The opposite of what you would need from him if he would be about to leave you, so you stopped him right away because you realized what that meant. 

" This isn't the time to act impulsively. I know you love me as strongly as i love you, but you have to choose what truly matters the most to you. If you decide to stay, others will be making history and maybe the pleasures of the thalamus will not be enough to cure the resentment for what you will be missing. Think carefully, hearts can change and the future wife you adore now can one day become the load that brought you down. " 

Although a sensical objection, that didn't seem to preoccupy him much. 

" Never, you were made for me. The omens were very clear, staying grants me a blissful life with you for the price of letting my name fade. I have only two options: be loved and forgotten or waste my life following the fool's orders until death will reward me with immortal glory. Between spending the rest of my life with you or with Agamemnon, I think it's clear where I would rather be. "

The sacrifice was too great, ultimate proof of his love for you. Behind that relaxed phrasing Achilles attempted to de-dramatize giving up his biggest personal dream for the one you shared, what you still considered wasn’t fair. 

Responding with an equal offer was not only what your heart began to crave, but an alternative solution neither of you had considered. 

“ There has to be another way, your mother never said what I must do in all of this.” 

He wasn’t sure of where you wanted to point, but began to suspect it. 

“ Well, the prophecy was a bit unclear about this part.” 

The mischievous happiness renewed in your eyes let him know you had just found hope in the most insane of places. 

“ Don’t give me that look, this is what happens for leaving you a while alone with Odysseus! Now you think you can outsmart destiny and find me a third end.” 

You smirked with pride before presenting your idea. 

“ I can’t interfere with yours, only my own. If no part is clearly stated for me in this sacred command sent to you, then nothing stops me from choosing one. Instead of having you abandon your dream to stay with me, I’ll follow it with you.” 

His eyes were wide open staring at you, disbelief making him feel you were then playing with him. 

“ Are you telling me we could just get married and board the ship to Troy the morning after our wedding night? What kind of honorable nuptials would that be? When all the wives of the country would be giving their farewell to their husbands, would you follow me like slaves are meant to? War holds no virtuous position for a woman to occupy, it would be a stain to your reputation your parents would curse me for. “ 

“ If your baby cousin can go, so can I.” You justified yourself.” To stop me you will have to stop Patroclus and we know that is not going to happen.” 

The exactitude of your threat made him feel frustrated. Not because he wouldn’t love having you with him, but since he was refusing to publicly humiliate you like that. All Greece would know you were going to be the only wife following her husband to Troy for unexplainable reasons and they could judge your morals. Decent wives were meant to wait for their husbands and take care of their homes, not let passion distract them from their social duties. War camps were masculine places meant to be despised by the women, since their only female presence was typically in a state of degradation. Besides, Helen had already caused a moral breach shaming the greek concept of marriage and that was the reason pushing the fight. People would be judgemental of your relationship, they would question you for immorality and him for lacking authority to make you stay like a normal wife should. 

He wasn’t thinking about him anymore, of protecting his name and the weight of his masculine prestige. He was extremely worried about you and the consequences it could bring when he wouldn’t be there to protect you. 

“ Do you sincerely want to go to Troy and watch me die?” 

“ It’s still better than watching you sail knowing you will never come back.” You terminated in response . “ I have heard the city is built to withstand a ten year siege, enough time for us to have a life together before destiny will reclaim you.” 

Arguing with you was hard, even if the idea was insane you would find ways to make it sound logical. 

“ A camp on the trojan beach is no place to start a family. “ He replicated softly, just letting you know he was trying to make you understand you couldn’t ask that. “ What are we going to do when the children come? Because they will, eventually. If you become my wife no omen of death is going to stop me from making love to you.” 

You smirked innocently, ready to deliver a justification. 

“ I'm not naive, Achilles! Do you think I don’t know what happens in those camps? Captives get pregnant all the time, so it's not impossible to go through it there. It may not be ideal, but I can make it. If you would leave me here and break our relationship to protect me from your fate, you could still put a baby inside your finest war trophy girl.” 

“ And who said I’m leaving?” He questioned you. “ I’m not doing it and I am not breaking up with you. Now stop with this nonsense, my wife can’t be giving birth surrounded by death.” 

“ But trojan women can? Because births aren’t going to stop there. “ You insisted, sitting near and acting as if you were two civil parts on a trial. “ Hector has a baby boy, if he can be a father in this mess so can you.” 

The provocation made him hold a groan, but he turned back and kicked the nearest surface as a frustration release outlet. 

“ It’s different for him, his wife is a princess and they have a city to defend. “ He tried to articulate in fast speaking, doing all he could to not show signs of anger growing because of your stubbornness. “ I don’t want you to have the life of a war captive, to denigrate yourself for me.” 

It was very sweet, you were feeling his pain but he had to understand yours too. 

“ As long as you are still breathing I will not accept a life without you. When the time comes I will embrace grief, but I’ll cry for you as your widow. In the meantime I don't want no one else, I’ll have the ground of your tent as thalamus and I’ll have your children.” 

He gave a few steps towards you, presenting one more solid concern. 

“ What will be of all of you when I'm gone?” 

That should have been a strong preoccupation making you desist, but it didn’t. 

“ We will be alright. They will inherit your share of the sacking, we know your death is linked to the fall of Troy so I can assume we will win something. Given that the House of Aeacus would possess fresh new heirs to renew the bloodline, I may even be able to bargain with Agamemnon the throne of Phthia for one of them. He hates you, but he would not be politically capable to refuse if you become the maximum fallen hero of the war he just won.” 

At that point he felt true powerlessness because he just couldn’t convince you out of it for your own good. 

“ They can’t grow in a warzone, think of the ruthless people they will become.  Those kids would not know any better until it would be too late for them. I don’t want a soulless soldier as heir, people saying Achilles’ son has surpassed the brutality of the father.” 

“ Let our little monsters run free through the camp, they will turn out fine if we guide them right. “ You imagined out loud, not scared at all by the dark warning. “ I can’t wait to see them messing around, you will be in tears the first time one of them will grab a wooden sword trying to copy their father.” 

Illusion was starting to make his negative stance harder to maintain, he loved what you were saying. It sounded so wonderful that he couldn’t help find some sensical feeling in it. There was only one detail you haven’t solved for his resistance to fall completely. 

“ How would I fight the enemy worried for you? You will be the only married woman around thousands of men and although I'm terrifying to most of them, I can’t keep control at all times. Some of those men will not be myrmidons, they will not know who you are.” 

“ That’s the best part: I’ll keep Patroclus bussy.” You announced with excitement, knowing well he wouldn’t resist it. “ I know you don’t trust him in an open battleground yet, but he would not accept being left behind so you have to take him or he would never forgive you. With me on board you have a safe mission to give him that would keep him away from combat but still make him feel a hero. By the time you will judge him ready to charge into battle my presence will be naturalized and his vigilant eye won’t be needed anymore.” 

Hope was truly hitting him because he started to feel as if the crazy plan could work if you all would make it work out. Most of the persons he loved the most could be with him for the rest of his lifetime, making the surviving gap before the consecration worth living. His little cousin, his best friend and his wife along with his future children all gathered like some warrior family. 

A taste of happiness before the end, walk the two roads simultaneously into a third fate. 

“ Blessed be your stubbornness, you wonderful woman! “ He praised you, surprise making his attitude switch as he rushed towards you. “ How can you be in every detail? You are insane, but I love you. I don’t deserve you, I can’t believe this.” 

He made you smile and by that point you knew you were about to win. 

“What exactly? My incredible ingeniousness, my gorgeous looks?” 

“ That you love me so much, '' He admitted, then picked you up bridal style. “ That you will be my wife and I will brag about having you to both greeks and trojans. I will not rest until you will be the most honored person in that camp alongside me, your sacrifice will be part of my legend and maybe that will be my start to repay you. “ 

His immense gratitude was making you chuckle due to the unusual intensity, but he wouldn’t stop. 

“ I’ll love you to my last breath, I promise you that.” 

You were all smiles while caressing the strands of hair falling at the sides of his face. 

“That’s all I want. No other payment you can offer matters to me because my will for sacrifice comes from love, just like yours.” You purred blissfully. “ Let’s not worry about the future, let’s just take this one kiss at a time.” 

Mesmerized as he was, he replied against your lips. 

“ I like how that sounds.” 

[aimerays]

mortal x immortal (part 2)

part 1 (wanderer, albedo)

summary: you die, and he has to live with it. forever.

characters: xiao, venti, zhongli

xiao always held the thought deep inside his mind: one day, you, too, would have to depart from the world. it was there every waking moment; it tugged at him, begging him not to be in your presence for too long, pushing him to leave, to just disappear and never see you again. for whatever reason, xiao disobeyed. and look at him now.

xiao is hunched over your bloodied body. he came as soon as his name left your lips, but it's already far too late, and you know that. xiao mutters curses as he holds your hand, but you can only smile weakly in return. "sorry-" you whisper before he interrupts you. "it..." he takes a shaky breath. "it couldn't even have been old age. you... you and your stupid-" he pauses, refusing to meet your eyes. you grasp his hand in yours and softly say "xiao..." he winces and turns away, but you keep going. "i just... wanted to say," you struggle to form the words. "i'm really glad... i got to know you." a choked noise escapes from xiao's throat. it's the last thing you ever say to him.

cheerful, happy venti. he never learned, always finding new mortals to smile with and eventually grieve for. the cycle repeated over and over, and he soon became accustomed to it. numb, even. but you were different. he could feel it. for the first time in a while, he wanted to spend the rest of his existence with someone. too bad it was impossible.

even in the face of death, venti has a smile plastered on his face. he doesn't want to, no, he won't believe the scene in front of him. the blood isn't yours, and that isn't you on the ground in the middle of it. it can't be. just yesterday, you were so full of life, almost radiating light... how could that bright soul have been extinguished so quickly and easily? the archon's smile falters. there's nothing fake about your shallow breaths and sickly demeanor. it's as if he's in a trance as he makes his way to you. an unpleasant feeling washes over him when he sees the state you're in, and he pushes it down. by now, it's obvious there's nothing he can do except quietly hum a melody to soothe you both as you smile one last time.

zhongli was used to losing people. every time he got to know someone, he knew it wouldn't last very long. still, you felt as if you would be there forever, talking and laughing without a care. moments with you felt like lifetimes for him. for someone known for his wisdom, he knew he was being naïve, but it was nice believing such silly thoughts.

zhongli tries to keep his face neutral, but his eyes widen, and his lips tighten. it happened already. he thought he would have a few more years with you at the very least, but death was impatient with you. in his heart, he knows you're past the point of saving, and he can only hold your hand in his and murmur comforting words, telling you how much you mean to him. it's calming; zhongli's gentle, silky voice is just a little louder than everything else around you, and you focus entirely on it. you manage to quietly thank him before it all fades away.

[elasticitymudflap]

you think your boy Simon is gonna come back for season 2 or is he all arced out?

LISTEN *GRIPS U* SORRY IM ALL CAPS IM JUST BEING VERY NORMAL RN

SEASON 1 WAS BASICALLY ABOUT GETTING HIM TO THE POINT WHERE HE WAS SIMPLY NO LONGER LOOKING FOR AN EXCUSE TO THROW HIS LIFE AWAY, AND RECOGNIZING/NOT ROMANTICIZING THE CONCEPT OF SACRIFICE IN HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH BETTY BECAUSE OF HOW DISPROPORTIONALLY SHE SACRIFICED HERSELF FOR HIM IN WAYS HE WASN'T COGNIZANT OF.

IMHO:

SEASON 1 BARELY TOUCHED UPON ADDRESSING OR WORKING THROUGH HIS ICE KING TRAUMA. THIS IS MY FIRST MAIN THING I NEED THEM TO TOUCH UPON.

IT CONCERNS ME THAT SIMON DIDN'T EVEN COMPLETELY CONNECT THE DOTS IN THAT ALL THE CRAP WORLDS THEY WENT TO WERE HINGING ON WHO HE IS AND THE IMPACT HIS LOVE AND SACRIFICE (OR THE LACK THEREOF) HAD ON THE WORLD (DID SORT OF FOR A MOMENT IN THE STAR BUT NOT NEARLY ENOUGH IMO)

HE'S OBVIOUSLY STILL PROCESSING HIS YEARS TAKING CARE OF MARCY IN THE APOCALYPSE???? THERE WAS NO FOLLOW-UP WITH HER PHONECALL EVEN IN THE FINAL MONTAGE???? WHAT HAPPENED IN OOO WHEN HE DISAPPEARED??? THESE TWO NEED TO FUCKING TALK FOR REAL

WHAT DOES SIMON'S LIFE LOOK LIKE WHEN HE'S NO LONGER AN EXHIBIT?? HOW THE HELL DID HE BECOME/CONSENT TO BECOMING AN EXHIBIT IN THE FIRST PLACE I MEAN WHAT THE FUCK?? HOW DID HIS LIFE CHANGE SO DRASTICALLY (OR DID IT NOT) FROM OBSIDIAN??

THE MORAL OF "MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE GONE ON THAT TRIP TO AUSTRALIA INSTEAD / WHO KNOWS WHAT LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE" IS SO BAD FOR HIM TO END CONCLUSIVELY ON AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE SEEN BECAUSE THE WORLD STILL FUCKING ENDED??? MAYBE HE FOUND THE CROWN, MAYBE HE DIDN'T, BUT EITHER WAY FROM WHAT WE SAW IN THE ALT WORLDS IT WAS ALL GOING TO END IN TRAGEDY AND MAYBE THIS IS THE ONLY WORLD WHERE WE GET A BITTERSWEET END INSTEAD OF A HELL WORLD THANKS TO THEIR DESICIONS??? IDK!!!!!! I'D LIKE TO EXPLORE THAT CONCEPT I THINK

THE UNIVERSE IS OUT OF HIS NOODLE, BUT DOES SIMON'S HEAD-PORTAL STILL WORK?? CAN HE CONNECT TO FIONNA WORLD IF HE'S IN HIGHLY CHARGED MAGICAL ENVIRONMENTS??? ACTUALLY, WHAT THE HELL ARE THE LONG TERM EFFECTS OF A HUMAN HAVING A UNIVERSE IN HIS DANG HEAD

HE'S CONNECTING WITH ASTRID NOW AND SEEMS TO BE ON MUCH BETTER TERMS, IS SHE GOING TO INSPIRE HIM TO START WRITING FIONNA AND CAKE STORIES AGAIN TO COPE IN A HEALTHY WAY WITH HIS PAST THIS TIME??

SIMON'S RELATIONSHIP WITH ICE THING???

SIMON'S HUMAN PAST IN GENERAL: WHY IS THIS DUDE THE WAY HE IS??? WHY DID HE BELIEVE THE THINGS HE DID, STUDY THEM, MAKE THEM THE THINGS HE HINGED HIS LIFE AND CAREER ON???

ON THAT NOTE: FLASHBACKS. MOTHER FUCKING FLASHBACKS. MORE OF HIS ADVENTURES WITH BETTY. WE ACTUALLY SEE SO LITTLE OF WHAT THEY WERE LIKE TOGETHER WHEN ACTUALLY HAPPY, HUMAN, AND IN A RELATIONSHIP TOGETHER, IN THEIR ELEMENT, AND NOT STRICKEN WITH LIFE-OR-DEATH DESICION MAKING EXCEPT FOR HIS DUMB ASS GETTING BRAINED BY A CHERRY JAR

HIS YEARNING TO FIND BETTY AND APOLOGIZE TO HER WAS "TECHNICALLY" HANDLED IN THE SHOW, BUT YOU CAN NOT TELL ME THIS DUDE DOESN'T HAVE LASTING ISSUES AND TRAUMA AROUND THAT. ABOUT THE FIRST TIME HE PUT ON THE CROWN AND BETTY DISAPPEARING FOREVER. ABOUT THE GUILT AND FEAR ABOUT HER BEING DEAD DURING THE WAR. ABOUT LIVING NINE FUCKING HUMAN LIFETIMES IN A HAZE WHERE ALL HE KNEW WAS HE HURT THE PERSON HE LOVED MOST AND HE JUST NEEDED TO FIND HER. IT BECAME AN INTEGRAL PART OF ICE KING'S CHARACTER, HIS MOST DEFINING TRAIT STRIPPED TO THE STUDS. HE HELD ONTO THAT LAST PIECE OF SIMON PETRIKOV SOME HOW UNTIL SO MUCH TIME HAD PASSED HIS ONLY HOPE TO EVER FIND HER AGAIN WAS TO USE TIME TRAVEL. I'D LIKE SOME MORE OF THAT, IF YOU PLEASE.

HOW IS HE ACTUALLY COPING POST-SEASON 1? WHAT ARE HIS THOUGHTS ON ALL THE WORLDS THEY VISITED, THE THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO HIM, THE IMPLICATIONS, HIS INTERPRETATIONS? HE MAY BE IN THERAPY BUT HE'S STILL DRINKING.

ANYWAY

[steddieasitgoes]

for a fortnight there, we were forever

Happy Birthday, @nostalgicbones !!!!

I hope you have the best day ever and enjoy this little fic about Steddie getting into Supernatural. Apologies in advance if I got the details wrong, everything I know about this show I learned from tumblr lmao.

wc: 2.1K+ | rated: T

Read on ao3

Steve’s tired. The kind of tired that sits deep in his bones. A once-in-a-lifetime trip to visit Robin in her year abroad interpreter fellowship has kept him busy the last two weeks. Adventuring all over Europe as Robin rambled in languages, Steve couldn’t even imagine learning himself. They saw art, explored kitschy tourist traps, ate so much delicious food, Steve’s pants sitting a little lighter around his middle, and managed to avoid an international incident except that one night in Italy when Robin had to translate their way out of an arrest.

It’s been some of the best two weeks of his life, but he’s ready to be home. All he wants now is to kiss Eddie hello, scrub the last six hours of travel from his body, and then curl up on the couch with lukewarm takeout and his boyfriend’s arm around him. In that exact order no matter how much protesting Eddie does. If Steve doesn’t get in the shower he’s going to start peeling his skin from his body.

He doesn’t expect Eddie to be waiting by the door for him like some devoted pet, but when he unlocks the front door and doesn’t hear footsteps, he’s slightly concerned.

This is the longest they have been apart in years and some part of him figured Eddie would be on him the minute the Uber dropped him off in the parking lot, especially after he denied Eddie’s offer to pick him up at the airport. It was a nice offer, but the last thing Steve needed after a day and a half of travel was to get into the car with a frustrated Eddie because airport traffic is the root of all evil — he learned his lesson after last fall’s teacher’s conference.

Instead, Steve toes off his shoes and pads down the hallway toward the glowing light coming from their living room. He passes the kitchen on the way in and has to stop himself from making a pitstop. Messy isn’t strong enough to describe the scene. It looks like Eddie threw a rager in the small confines of their kitchen — solo cups everywhere, dishes overflowing from the sink, a half-eaten pizza box open on the counter that surprisingly hasn’t been touched by their cat Shiloh.

Steve can feel his anxiety spiking as he takes it all in. Eddie may not be obsessively organized like he is, but he’s never been one to be this messy. What if something bad happened to him in the last day and a half he’s been traveling? It’s been hard to keep up with texts with the all-time differences and layovers. Surely someone would have called him if something bad happened — at the very least, their house would be surrounded in yellow tape by now since Dorien is a busybody who regularly sounds the alarm if they’re more than five minutes late putting out their trash cans on pick up day.

It’s comforting enough to propel Steve forward, further down the hallway, until it spills out into the living room. His eyes catch on the mess for a moment — more empty take-out boxes and half-drunken water bottles along with over two dozen balled-up pieces of paper — but then he relaxes when he spots Eddie amongst the mess.

His curls are pulled back in a messy bun, and his body is kinked in a weird position as he drapes himself over his acoustic to scribble something down in his notebook. The television is on, casting him in a cool blue-gray tone, but the volume is too low for Steve to hear what’s on.

“Eds,” Steve calls, keeping his voice soft and even so as not to startle Eddie. This isn’t the first time he’s found Eddie in a focused state like this. It’s better not to startle him out of him, a lesson Steve learned the hard way in the early days of their relationship after failing to heed Wayne’s advice. “I’m home.”

“Stevie!” Eddie leaps up from the couch, acoustic be damned as it clatters to the patterned rug. His arms are around Steve in an instant, pulling him flush with his chest and burying his face in his unusually greasy hair.

“Missed you,” Steve says, wrapping his own arms around Eddie’s warm middle. He pulls back just enough to connect their lips. It’s not exactly the welcome kiss Steve was expecting with Eddie’s unexpected stumble scratching his chin but it’s perfect all the same.

“Missed you too.” Eddie ducks his head, nuzzling into the crook of Steve’s neck for a second before pulling away. His nose scrunched up when he looks at him. “I love you, Stevie, but you smell.”

Steve chuckles, shaking his head as he slowly untangles his limps from Eddie. “Are you sure it’s me and not this place?” He gestures at the state of their living room and then looks up at Eddie. It’s the first time he’s gotten a chance to really take him in; too preoccupied with getting his much-deserved welcome kiss in. He looks tired, almost as bone tired as Steve does, which doesn’t make any sense since he’s been at home the last two weeks. Sure, managing the record store is a lot of work, but not enough for his eyes to look this red-rimmed and bloodshot as if he’s been smoking for days, which Steve knows isn’t the case because the house doesn’t smell. “What have you been up to?”

A grin tugs at the corner of Eddie’s lips, a smile taking over his entire face until his red-rimmed eyes are squinting and crinkling at the edges. “You know that show Erica is always talking about? Supernatural. I started watching it the day you left, and well… I finished it three hours ago.”

That explains the mess and Eddie’s exhausted state. If there’s one thing his boyfriend is known for, it’s losing all sense of time and human responsibilities for the sake of art — his own or someone else’s.

“How many seasons?”

Eddie yanks a strand of hair from his bun free to tug across his lips before dropping his head. He mumbles something, too low for Steve to register.

“Eds.”

This time Eddie sighs and picks his head up but continues to hide his sheepish smile behind the lock of hair. “15.”

“Jesus, Eddie!” It’s nearly double the last show Eddie became obsessed with, not wanting to do anything but watch episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer until the final credits rolled for the last time. He went 36 hours without sleep before Steve practically held his eyelids shut. “Have you even slept?”

“It’s really hard to sleep without you.” Steve knows Eddie didn’t mean it like that, but he can’t help the pit of guilt that sinks to the base of his stomach. “And once I started, I couldn’t stop. Supernatural demanded to be watched.”

Okay, so maybe it’s not all Steve’s fault. It’s just Eddie’s compulsive need to finish things he starts — at least the things he cares about, their half-built patio furniture, on the other hand…

“I’m never leaving you unsupervised again.”

Eddie smiles at that and reaches for Steve’s hand again. “Good, because I have to catch you up on the show!”

“It’s that good you already want to watch it again?”

“It’s that good, Stevie. And I need to revisit some scenes so I can get this love song, right.”

“Wait,” Steve says, dropping Eddie’s hand. His arms cross on instinct, head tilting to the side as he studies his boyfriend. “Love song? I thought you only wrote love songs about me.”

“The Destiel men deserve an original love ballad for all they’ve been through.”

“Destiel? Men? The show is gay?"

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head with enough force that more unruly strands break free from the worn elastic. There’s mischief in his eyes and a crooked smile pulling on his face and no matter how much trouble that look has gotten them into before, Steve can’t help but love it.

“You have so much to learn, my pet. Go shower, wash that gross plane smell off of you, and I’ll order us food. If we start right when you’re done we can probably get through half of season one tonight.”

Steve crinkles his nose at the request. It’s not that he doesn’t want to watch TV with Eddie, that was part of his plan when he got home. But he did just spend two weeks away from him, and well, he did have a few other plans in store for them after he settled in for a bit.

“Seriously? I’ve been gone for two weeks, and you want to spend our first hours reunited rewatching a show you just finished?”

“Trust me, baby, you’ll understand once we start watching,” he says, kissing Steve’s temple before patting his ass to get him moving. “I’ll even let you take one of those long, steamy showers while I get everything ready. That should be enough time for the Amazon shipment of tissues to arrive.”

“Tissues? I’m going to cry watching a show about supernatural things?”

“Excuse me,” Eddie scoffs. “You sobbed through that one episode of Buffy so do not judge me right now.”

“Will you at least warn me when something bad is going to happen so I’m prepared?”

Eddie shakes his head and mimes, locking his lips before throwing the imaginary key behind his shoulder. “At least you’ll have a shoulder to cry on. Now go, shower or else we won’t get through enough episodes tonight.”

Steve rolls his eyes but compiles, not without stealing another kiss first.

____

Steve hates to admit it, but he’s hooked from episode one. If it was up to him, he’d probably pull the same move Eddie did and binge the entire show in two weeks since he has no other summer vacation plans, but Eddie made him promise not to watch any new episodes while he’s at work. Turns out being an owner doesn’t mean he can call out for an entire month just to watch a television show, a rant Steve listens to for fifteen minutes before Eddie finally shuts up when he presses play on the remote.

It becomes a daily part of their routine right up until episode 18 of the final season. Steve knows something terrible is about to happen the minute the episode begins because Eddie won’t let go of his hand, but he’s still not prepared for the catastrophic events.

“He can’t die like that!” Steve shouts, jumping up from the couch. Eddie’s quick with the remote, passing the credits before the autoplay feature kicks in and starts the next episode. “What the fuck!”

“I know,” Eddie says, patting Steve’s shoulder in the hopes of placating the anger he knows is boiling in his blood. “I scared Shiloh with my shouting when I first watched it.”

“I don’t even want to finish it now.” He’s pouting; he knows he’s pouting, but he can’t help it.

“Aw, come on, Stevie. You have to see it through.” Steve huffs beside him, clinging to one of their stupid throw pillows as Eddie reaches for his laptop on the table. How can he go on the internet at a time like this? Steve feels like he just watched a friend die in front of him! “Besides it’s just the end for them in the show. There are tons of alternate endings online.”

“They shot more than one ending and released it? That doesn’t seem right.”

“Not the creators, they’re idiots,” Eddie says, shaking his head. His fingers fly across the laptop keys, typing something into the search bar before turning the screen so Steve can see. “But the fans take care of each other. This is an entire page of fix-it fics.”

“Fix it what nows?”

Eddie blinks at Steve as if he’s just sprouted two heads. “How have we been dating for five years, and I’ve never shown you the wonders of fix-it fics? Get ready to have your mind blown, sweetheart. Some of them even have art attached!”

“Where do you even find stuff like this?” Steve studies the page Eddie has open. An art piece of Dean driving his beloved Impala, with an arm thrown over the back seat. It’s beautiful.

“Okay, that’s it. After we finish, I’m giving you an education in the world of ao3 and Tumblr. You will be a changed man when I’m done with you, Steve Harrington.”

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’

“Never,” Eddie lies, not even trying to hide the mischievous smile on his face. “If you want to see Cas live, this is the way, baby.”

“Fine. But let’s finish the last two episodes first. It can’t get any worse.” Eddie bites his lip, ducking his head but he’s too slow for Steve’s quick eye. “It gets worse doesn’t it.”

“Fix it fics, Stevie. It’s all okay in the fix it fics.”

[thenightfolknetwork]

I never wanted to be part of the creature community. It isn't that I have anything against anyone--I was just born sapio and didn't ever feel any desire to be Turned. I was happy with my life and myself and I was more busy with my O-Levels and looking to go to uni than anything else. But that's all changed a couple of years ago when...well, I know the technical term, but "Sudden-Onset Apotheosis Syndrome" is just a fancy way of saying "Turned into a god with no discernible reason", yeah? It always makes me feel like a tool and so I try to hide it as best I can--no one wants to hear you complain about how hard it is being given divine powers and all that entails.

But I do have a problem, and I thought I might not be the only one with it, MUST not be, except I can't find anyone talking about it and so here I am? I can't talk to anyone anymore, can barely do even shopping for groceries, I feel paralyzed because all of a sudden now I have to think about a whole lot more than a "five year plan". All around me my old friends and my family, they're all...

...They're all dying. Not of anything particular--yet--but I can't so much as think of them without knowing how they're all going to die one day and I'm...not. I'm going to keep being like this for as close to "forever" that matters. It doesn't matter what I do or what they do, in just a handful of decades everyone I've ever known and loved will just be dust and I'll still look like I'm seventeen. And it isn't just people, it's everything. I thought I was used to the idea of living in a world perpetually sprinting headfirst towards climate disaster or nuclear oblivion, but NOW it's like--what, am I going to just be wandering around the blasted radiated wastelands waiting for the cockroaches to evolve wi-fi? I can't so much as plan for a lunch date tomorrow without working myself into a freezing panic about something that's not going to happen for ten thousand years--what the fuck is wrong with me?

How do any of you manage this sort of lifetime expectancy? How do you not try and Turn everyone on the street out of pure terror that they'll die and you won't? If this is how bad I feel after a few months, how much worse will it be in a year? In ten? In a million?

I'm so glad you've reached out, reader. This sounds to have been an extremely frightening, isolating experience for you, and I'm grateful you feel safe bringing that experience to my door.

The first point I want to talk to is your assertion that you are going to “keep being like this” forever. I recognise that some divine individuals do experience true eternal life, unchanged and unchanging. But they are few and far between, and it doesn't sound from your letter that the condition applies to you. Truly eternal beings do not suffer from panic attacks, for one thing.

You may not change physically, and emotional or intellectual change may be a little more difficult for you than they were before your apotheosis. But over time, I assure you, you will change. You will have new experiences and be shaped by them. And that means you can heal from this.

You ask “what the fuck is wrong” with you. Nothing is wrong with you. You are responding to a desperately frightening situation that has undermined every expectation and hope you had for how your life would play out. Give yourself a little grace, my dear.

This powerful fear response is not a personal failing or a sign of weakness. Your brain and body are trying to keep you safe, urging you to certain actions in a bid to protect you from harm.

The next time that “pure terror” hits you, try to breathe through it. Notice how it's making you want to behave, and acknowledge these impulses as a desire to protect yourself and the people around you. And then, let the suggestions go.

The action – or freezing, panicked inaction – suggested by your fear is not helpful. You can't turn the world, and you can't sit in frozen panic, waiting for the world to end. Take a breath, and ask yourself instead what you can do.

When you feel afraid of losing your friends, focus instead on expressing gratitude for the time you get to share with them. If you're afraid of the effects of climate catastrophe or political conflict, try getting involved in helpful action around these concerns. Let your love for this world and the people in it carry you forwards, not hold you back.

There are many models of god-hood. The detached, eternal observer is only one model of divinity, and not one you have to accept for yourself. Embrace instead your own immanence. You are here in the world. You can connect. You can change. You can make a difference.

We cannot possibly know what the future will hold, for ourselves or anyone else. Perhaps the world will end in fire and fury. Perhaps there will be exciting cockroach internet in our future. And perhaps life will carry on much as it always had, but in shinier outfits and with more spaceships. Who knows. What I do know is that nothing can be gained from worrying about that now.

You do not have to have a ten thousand year plan, dear reader. You do not need to have a ten year plan. It might be helpful to have a plan for the coming week, if only so you can make sure you take enough time to do the weekly shop and catch up with some friends.

Beyond that, remember: you are here with us, experiencing linear time just like everyone else. So please, try to take it as anyone else must – one day at a time.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[powerful-niya]

— (α lσvє rєвσrn.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚hαppч nαruhínα mσnth єvєrчσnє!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟼: 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢 + 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 + 𝚁𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 - (𝙽𝙷𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝟸𝟹)

Link to Oneshot below ↴

Pt 1: Wattpad | AO3

Pt. 2: Wattpad | AO3

Pt. 3: Wattpad | AO3

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡Love was a risk, a risk that cost Naruto everything, leading to the loss of the life he always knew and an everlasting separation from his beloved: Hinata Hyūga. 

His forbidden love for her brought about a curse that condemned him to live as a monstrous beast, forever wandering alone in despair. 

Yet, in this new lifetime, with a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to his beloved now miraculously in reach, love could very well be the solution to his salvation.

Content Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Alternate Universe - Medieval • Arranged Marriage • Beauty & The Beast • Destiny • December 2 • December 5 • December 26 • Emotional • Fairytale • Fairytale Curses • Fantasy • Falling In Love • Family Issues • Fate • Forbidden • Forbidden Love • Heavy Angst • Historical Eras • Hurt & Comfort • Knight AU • Love • Love Confessions • Monster • Mutual Pining • Mythical Beings And Creatures • NHmonth • NHmonth23 • Non-Human AU • Princess AU • Pining • Prophecy • Psychological Drama • Romance • Reincarnation • Reincarnated Lovers • Royal AU • Soulmates • Tooth-Rotting Fluff • Tragedy • Tragedy With Happy Ending • True Love • 1600s era • 1700s era • 2023

NSFW Tags: Body Worship • Cave Sex • Claiming • Coming Untouched • First Time • Fluff • Fluff And Smut • Hickeys • Love • Love Making • Magical • Outside Sex • Ownership • Praise Kink • Tail(s) • Scent Kink • Scratching • Sensation Play • Size Difference Kink • Unprotected Sex • Vaginal Sex • Virgin • 2023

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Part #1: 12.5K

Part #2: 9.2K.

Part #3: 17.6K.

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚1.8K

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The Beginning 

17th century.

1600s.

---

Naruto Uzumaki 

Naruto wasn't supposed to love.

He had taken a solemn oath—never to love, never to wed, never to father children.

He wasn't meant to fall for anyone.

Certainly not Hinata Hyūga—the Princess of the Kingdom of Konoha, the delicacy of the land, the diamond of the ton. 

Not to mention, she was the daughter of Hiashi Hyūga himself. He was a king, a formidable ruler known throughout the land for his unwavering authority and strict governance—a man of principles, tradition, and nobility.

A man of steel. 

Having such a man as a father meant that Hinata's upbringing was meticulously planned down to the finest detail. From childhood to adulthood, she was taught to walk with poise, to speak with eloquence, and to conduct herself with the dignity befitting a princess. 

Her every move was scrutinized, and her every action was held to the highest standards. 

Her attire was always immaculate, her manners impeccable, and her education comprehensive. She was trained in the fine arts, fluent in several languages, and educated in the intricate politics of the court. She was even skilled in musical instruments, having mastered the piano, harp, and violin. 

Hinata was groomed to be flawless, and untouchable. 

Absolutely perfect. 

And that is what she became—a beacon of perfection in the eyes of society, more than suitable to one day marry, bear children, and assist the Hyūga lineage flourish and prosper. 

Hinata was the epitome of beauty and grace, off-limits to all except suitors with suitable titles—a precious gem that no commoner or knight could ever hope to touch.

Certainly not a knight like him—not Naruto.

He was her royal guard, a position of great honor. He was meant to safeguard her, to be by her side for all of her days, to protect her and remain loyal—not to love her.

She was supposed to be off-limits to him. Yet, he crossed those limits. 

He fell in love with her.

Naruto recalled the subtle moments when it all began—the fleeting smiles, the accidental touches, the stolen glances, not just from him, but from her too. 

Her gaze began to linger on him just a second longer than usual, and in those moments, he saw a spark of something more in Hinata's shy eyes—an unspoken connection, a shared understanding that he couldn't ignore.

At first, Naruto thought it was just him.

He figured he was just imagining things. But then he started to see that spark in Hinata's eyes more and more—a twinkle of longing, a yearning for the freedom she saw in him. 

Each interaction, each shared glance, built a bridge between them, one that was both exhilarating but terrifying. 

It felt so new. 

...so wrong.

Naruto wasn't sure how it all happened. 

The progression from duty to love was a blur. It was as if one day he was merely her protector, and the next, his heart was entirely hers. The line between his oath and his feelings had blurred, and he suddenly found himself drawn to Hinata in ways he could neither control nor comprehend.

It was the greatest victory of his life.

And the greatest mistake of his life.

Nights in the moonlit garden of Konoha palace were where they began to meet in secret. 

One night led to another, and another, and before long, they were meeting almost every night.

They would spend their evenings together under the starry night sky. They would sit on the soft grass, surrounded by the fragrant blooms, and talk for hours. They shared their days, struggles, dreams—anything and everything. It didn't matter to them, as long as they were together.

They would even have playful moments where they chased each other through the garden, past the flowers, and under the stars. 

Naruto recalls the sound of Hinata's laughter echoing through the night, her delicate hands clutching her dress as she ran, her face glowing with happiness.

And he would chase after her. Always.

"Catch me, Naruto-kun! Catch me!" She would cheer.

And indeed, he would catch her, their laughter mingling as they collapsed onto the soft grass, breathless and happy.

These moments became the only light in Naruto's world.

Hinata became the only light in his world.

The sweetness of her smile, the warmth of her embrace, her lavender eyes full of love, her silky midnight blue hair, her sweet scent, her heartfelt laugh, and her gentle spirit—all of it stayed with him.

Deep in his heart. 

Day after day, despite the risk, despite the danger, despite duty or even mere common sense, the two were drawn into an ever-going routine. 

Princess and knight by day.

And lovers by night.

Both were always eager for nightfall, when Hinata would slip out of her bed chamber, and Naruto would desert his post to meet in the garden of Konoha palace.

Some nights, when they met together, they would just lie on their backs, gaze at the stars and imagine a future where they could be together. 

During these times, Hinata often grew vulnerable with him. She shared her deepest fears and her greatest desires, opening up in a way she couldn't with anyone else.

Hinata even confided in him about her longing for freedom and the strict control her father exerted over her life. 

"He is determined to marry me off—my f-father," She told Naruto that night, nearly driven to tears, "Love was never supposed to be a consideration for me. That's what my father has always told me, that I need to marry. I need to choose my family. I need to choose duty. But I f-feel—" Hinata admitted, but then she stopped herself.

Naruto listened intently, as he always did, trying his best to lighten her heart and unburden her.

"You feel differently, don't you, Hinata-sama?" Naruto asked gently. 

"You've chosen love, haven't you, hime?" He added softly.

And the look that appeared in her eyes then touched his heart deeply.

Yes. I choose love. I choose you, her eyes had told him.

But there was more. 

Her eyes showed a plea for freedom, for something real and true, beyond the cold, heartless world she had always known.

Naruto's heart ached for her, it truly did. 

He found himself leaning close, taking her hands in his, and he made the mistake of promising to always protect her. He gave her hope that he could save her from such a horrid life, to be the source of freedom and love she so desperately sought.

"I'll figure something out. I'll save you, I promise," He had assured her.

Naruto remembered the joy that instantly appeared in Hinata's eyes, how she believed him wholeheartedly, placing all her trust in him.

That night, she actually kissed him for the very first time.

"Thank you, Naruto-kun," She whispered against his lips.

But he should have known better than to make such a promise.

What they had was fragile yet unbreakable when they were together, a beautiful dream they lived each and every night.

But dreams were fleeting. 

Reality was cruel. 

And, forbidden love never lasts.

They were caught. 

Hinata and Naruto thought it would be another quiet, hidden night together in the garden, a sanctuary where they could steal moments away from prying eyes, just like all those times before. 

But they were wrong.

Naruto could still remember the rustling of leaves and the snap of a twig that alerted them too late.

Suddenly, they were ambushed. 

King Hiashi's guards emerged from the darkness, torches in hand, intent on seizing them both.

Naruto fought back fiercely, for Hinata, for both of them, but there were just too many. Their sheer numbers overwhelmed him, and despite his best efforts, they managed to subdue him. 

Subdue them both.

The guards then dragged them away, tearing them from their sanctuary.

And just like that, their secret was out. 

Naruto had no idea how they had been discovered that night, but it didn't matter. The truth was out, the damage done, and they were now at the mercy of the King—a furious Hiashi Hyūga.

And oh, was he furious.

Their punishment was as cruel as it was merciless.

Hinata's punishment was given first. For defying her father's orders, daring to love someone beneath her stature, and tarnishing her family's honor, she faced severe consequences.

She was forbidden to see Naruto ever again.

Her tear-streaked face and dull eyes were the last sight Naruto saw of her as the guards forcibly took her away to her chambers. Naruto had never seen her so broken. Her desperate cries and pleas echoed through the cold, stone halls, her voice screaming his name the entire time. 

He could still hear her cries.

His punishment, however, was far worse. 

He was beaten, humiliated, and dragged before the King, where he was forced to his knees and made to face Hiashi's wrath.

"You have betrayed your duty, dishonored my family, and defiled my daughter," The King declared, his voice cold and unforgiving.

"For that, you will pay the ultimate price."

Naruto had accepted his fate. 

He believed he deserved it for turning his back on his knight's oath and causing Hinata so much pain. He expected his punishment to be death, a swift end to his suffering. He braced himself for it, thinking it would be a merciful release compared to the agony of being separated from Hinata.

But fate had a crueler design.

Instead, Naruto was brought before a dark, malevolent witch, and he instantly knew what was in store for him. 

He would be cursed.

Indeed, the witch cast a spell upon him, a powerful one. She transformed him into a beast—a creature so hideous that Hinata would never again be able to love him. 

"You will live out your days as a beast," The witch declared, her voice dripping with malice, "Banished from this palace, condemned to wander the forest for all eternity. You will outlive her, always knowing she is beyond your reach."

Pain tore through Naruto as his body twisted and changed, the curse taking hold. His once strong hands became claws, his noble and formidable body transformed into something large and terrifying, his face a grotesque mask of the beast he had become. 

The guards then threw him out of the castle, casting him away from his home, away from people, and away from Hinata.

Discarded like trash. 

Now, Naruto roamed the vast, lonely forest that surrounded the palace he once sworn to protect, his heart aching for the love he had lost. 

The forest was his prison now, and loneliness was his constant companion. 

Each step he took reminded him of Hinata, of the tender moments they had shared and the future that had been stolen from them. 

His curse was relentless, ensuring he would never forget. He was cursed to remember, to feel the pain of their love that could never be, every single day.

The only way his curse could be broken was if he was loved again. True love. 

But how could that ever happen? 

He was now a beast, feared and shunned by all who saw him. The idea of someone seeing past his beast form to the man within, understanding his pain, and loving him, seemed utterly impossible.

It was all wishful thinking. An unattainable dream. 

A painful hope he no longer allowed himself to wish for.

Continue Reading On Wattpad Or AO3.

— (⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆)

[steviewashere]

There's something so beautiful, so appealing, yet so sad about vampire Eddie Munson and normal dude Steve Harrington as a pairing. Cause like—

Just walk with me. Imagine Eddie turning into a vampire spawn, not Kas, just a normal fucking vampire spawn. A vampire spawn who exists by the normal rules of vampirism.

He can't go in the sun. He isn't invited into places unless otherwise told. He must stay in the dark, hidden away. And, the worst part of his new form—

Eddie Munson, the man who was supposed to die saving the people that mattered, is immortal.

He's immortal. He makes friends. He works alongside annoying coworkers. He lives with his wonderful uncle. He falls in love.

And slowly, over time, he watches as everybody around him ages. The finer wrinkles, the grey hairs, the knobby joints, and collapsing postures. Their fragile voices and softer bellies, as they grow accustomed and comfortable with life. Life after violence.

But Eddie gets older, sure. He turns twenty-five. And thirty. Fifty-five. Seventy. His hair remains a dark brown. Face forever twenty. Body as lithe and malleable as it was before the Upside Down. And yet, for all that he's sacrificed—

The biggest sacrifice is the people he eventually loses.

Uncle Wayne dies peacefully in his sleep. And Eddie's forty-four, Wayne would've been eighty-three. That's normal. That's a normal death. A normal age. Except that Eddie is still...twenty.

Dustin Henderson and the rest of his friends, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Argyle. They all die, too. They go grey and they gain soft bellies. They have crows feet. Grandchildren that look the exact same age as Eddie. They think that Eddie is a really young cousin, they think he's some lucrative relative.

The one that hurts the most, in the end, is the loss of one Steve Harrington. Who stole Eddie's heart. Red and raw between his hands. Kissed the tender outside with his beautiful, charismatic mouth. He was what sustained Eddie's dire cravings, blood and skin and tender moments. Steve shared many nights with Eddie in the dark, under the stars, in the glow of the moon. He shared interests, poked fun at Eddie, loved Eddie. He loved Eddie. And Eddie...God, he loved Steve.

Loved him so bad, that when Steve died, Eddie knew he lost himself, too. Because nobody will be as lovely and as young and as...and as lovely, as Steve Harrington. You don't grow to love a boy with golden skin, somebody who can go under the sun and bring home sunflowers. You don't grow to love the boy who knows your worst trauma and all your messy secrets. You don't just grow to love a boy. You come to love the man, the spirit, the hole that he leaves.

And Eddie Munson is immortal, cursed by his vampirism. He may have helped them defeat Vecna, he may have been able to aid his friends and his lover to their beautiful life-long end—seen them age and grow comfortable and happy. But, he assumes that the true sacrifice wasn't his death, it was his liveliness.

How is he supposed to continue on without the ones who know him best? So Eddie Munson is immortal.

You know what they say kills vampires. Does Eddie do it? Or does he reign himself to a million lifetimes of friendships and warm dinners, yet the loneliness at the mere fact that nothing can ever be replicated? Does he reign himself to a million lovers, hoping that in one instance, Steve will be the reincarnated body next to him in bed?

Or does he join the tender souls of his loved ones? Stake through the heart and a thousand new stories to tell.