#his whole thing is that he kneels at her feet and acts like a guard dog

[vrystalius]

Hello so i have been craving angst then fluff so can you write scenarios with the uppermoons x reader, after a huge argument that ended up with the reader walking away from the fight then locking herself in their shared bedroom,and when they come back after duties they find out that she cried herself to sleep with her tear stained and red cheeks, she wakes up and they make up then cuddle (The argument is huge but they are both at fault and they are both right it's just different point of view since they are demons and she is a human).

Arguments with the Upper moons

You and your s/o had a huge argument wich caused you to leave and later cry yourself to sleep. How will they react?

Pairing: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Gyutaro x reader

(Gyutaro doing his usual scratching on himself in his part, toxic-ish relationship in his part as well, angst in every part)

Kokushibo

Your arguments are mostly about how emotionally unavailable he is and how much Kokushibo refuses to speak about his feelings. He never elaborates on what he is thinking right now or what he truly thinks of you, this relationship and his feelings for you. You know that Kokushibo is mediating when he is not training, meaning he has plenty of time to think. Why is he never sharing his feelings? You always voice out loud how much you appreciate and love your husband, but he never tells you the same things. Only occasional dry “I love you’s” and some “I appreciate your presence’s”.

You try to tell Kokushibo about how you want to hear more from him and what he truly thinks of you. Sometimes, you feel like he doesn’t love you at all with the way he acts so coldly around you.

Kokushibo’s voice is stern and condescending while arguing with you. He only states the most obvious things and still doesn’t admit his true feelings towards you. This makes your heart ache even more than before. Seeing the tears form in the corners of your eyes made him scoff quietly.

“Why are you crying now? Did I hurt your “feelings”?”

That last comment made a wave of nausea wash over your whole body. Before you let yourself throw up onto his feet, you quickly rushed into your shared bedroom to hide your crying face.

You ignored Kokushibo’s demands to open up the bedroom door for almost one hour until Muzan finally ordered a meeting with him. Tears continue to stream down your face as you curled up into a small ball below the sheets. Your bed felt eerily empty without your husband beside you, but right now, you don’t want him here. You didn’t know exactly when you fell asleep, but you woke up by cold fingers brushing against your now dry cheeks.

After you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of Kokushibo kneeling beside you and gently caressing your cheeks. His bottom and upper eyes were closed. It was his unique way to show that he feels safe and relaxed around you. You noticed the soft look in his eyes and the gentleness in his touch.

“I… I should apologise for my words I spoke to you earlier. I did not mean to hurt you in any way.”

Kokushibo’s voice was deep and soothing. You could hear how hesitant he was about speaking like this. He barely ever shows his vulnerable side to you and insists to keep his guard up at all times. That is one of the many things why you two argue so much. He spend the last 500 years to perfect his fighting style and whole being. Even during his human years he forgot his own humanity, but around you, his emotions try to resurface. Your influence and affection make him softer, and in his opinion, weak. He does not want you to see him as weak, but that he is strong, powerful and a perfect being.

“Could you forgive me for acting so harshly? I do truly love you and I’d like to prove it to you.”

Douma

Douma’s lack of understanding of emotions cause a lot of arguments between you two. He continues to dismiss your feelings as just some silly moods you tend to have and never takes them seriously. Douma is listening to his follower’s woes all day every day, but he does not really pay attention to their words. He mostly zones out and then offers some loose advice based on some words he picked up while they continue to talk and talk and talk. He does the same thing with you.

When you try to tell him that you don’t like it when Douma has his meals in your shared bedroom and leaves behind a bloody mess and even some bodyparts. It’s disgusting, especially to you, who is a human. But all he hears is that he should send in a follower to clean your chambers after his meals. This was not the problem you were trying to solve, you were trying to tell him that you don’t like it when Douma eats humans in your bedroom, yet he doesn’t listen.

That isn’t even the most infuriating part. Besides him not listening to your thoughts, he sometimes mocks you for feeling emotional about it. It may be unintentional, but when you start crying during an argument, Douma sometimes giggles at your expression. It’s humiliating how hilarious he finds your crying face and in return it made you incredibly mad at him. Wich also makes him grin.

Yes, Douma may not grasp the concept of emotions, but you wished that he doesn’t dismiss them that easily.

During one of your arguments, you were trying to tell him about how you didn’t like how he disregards your emotions so easily.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do? You’re a silly human after all, your emotions are very entertaining to me!”

After Douma finished his sentence, you slapped your hand across his face as hard as you could. You knew that he will barely even feel it tickle his skin, but you wanted to demonstrate how infuriated you are with him. While your husband was trying to understand what exactly just happened to him, you already stormed off to your shared bedroom and made sure to properly lock the door. Additionally, you opened the blinds all the way and let the sun in to make sure that damn demon stays away from you for the time being. You cannot stand to see his smirking face right now.

You didn’t even notice that you started crying. There was only hoping that Douma didn’t see your tears running down your cheeks, or else he will mock you about those too, just like he does with every other emotion you have.

You fell asleep while watching the sun disappear behind the mountains and with a pillow between your arms. Long after you fell asleep, someone started slipping the pillow out of your arms and sneakily replaced it with their own body. You tried to escape out of Douma’s arms, but his grip was tighter. His face was uncharacteristically and eerily neutral, not showing any emotions right now.

“I don’t really get emotions, you know? They’re always been foreign to me.”

His voice sounded distant and detached. Who is this man that is cuddling you right now? You kept staring at his face while he spoke.

“I never really felt them. They just weren’t there then I was born. I saw them on other people’s faces and had to learn manually what they meant.”

Douma’s cold fingers slowly brushed through your hair as he leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead. He remained in this position while he continued to speak.

“I’m sorry if I insulted you. I never meant it. You just confuse me with your emotions sometimes, but you also…kind of… make me imagine? I’m not sure. Perhaps I’m trying to talk myself into feeling something, but when you’re around me, I feel something close to happiness. Or whatever that emotion is that I’m feeling.”

His eyes soften up slightly while speaking. You can’t help but smile a little at his words.

“But hey, you stopped resisting my cuddles~ does that mean I’m allowed back into bed? Would you be a sweetheart and close the blinds? You don’t wanna wake up next to a pile of ash, right?”

Akaza

“Stop worrying” and “toughen up” are things you hear almost every day from Akaza. He hates the weak and any sign of weakness, and since you are a human, weakness and vulnerability is a rather big part of you when you compare yourself to a demon like him. You can’t help but not being able to ignore the look he gives you everytime you either hesitate about something or try to explain your feelings to him. His eyebrows furrow together and his eyes have this look of disdain in them. His jaw clenches and you can see the veins pop out a little. That look alone, intentional or not, makes you shut up quickly.

You never heard him say “I love you” to you before, ever. You tried asking him about it but all that resulted in him coming up with some weak excuse. All you wanted is for Akaza to tell you if he does really love or if he is just staying by your side for his own entertainment or pleasure. You just want him to say “I love you” at least once and admit his feelings to you, but he stubbornly refuses.

Akaza was trying to contain his anger inside him while you were talking about exactly that. His fists were clenched and his eyes were glued to a spot on the floor. Until suddenly, he slammed his fist against the wall, shattering the wood beneath it, making you jump away.

“Why do you have to be so weak? All this crying and fucking feelings, they make you fucking pathetic and weak. I’m trying to protect you and you’re too blind to see it. I’m starting to think that protecting you was a waste of my time after all.”

Those words shattered your heart in an instant. Maybe he was right. Maybe you are just a waste of time to him, he has better things to do after all. He wants to become the strongest demon after all. This is the end of you two, isn’t it? You didn’t want Akaza to see your crying face and think even less of you, if that’s even possible, so you ran away into your bedroom and hid beneath the covers as if those will shield you from him and the rest of the world around you.

Tears ran down your face silently while you slowly fell asleep, but you woke up rapidly when you felt strong arms wrap incredibly tight around you. Your heart almost stopped in fear when you felt the familiar aura tightly pressing up against you, but you couldn’t help but begin to melt into his arms.

Akaza never was good with words. The words he uses are mostly intentionally and unintentionally used go hurt others, wich includes you. You felt how he buried his face into your neck and silently savoured your smell. His rough palms were gently rubbing up and down your waist, almost a little desperate to feel your skin again. He lifted his face from your neck and rested it right beside your head. His thick fingers carefully brushed through your hair.

“I should say it. You deserve it.”

You turned your head over to face him. You noticed freshly healed skin on his knuckles and all over his hands, leaving little room to guess what exactly he was doing while you slept. A nervous frown started appeared on his face. Akaza took a very deep breath before you listened to his shaky voice.

“I like you. A-A lot. Lots. Well, I-I really… uhm… Love you…I love you.”

Gyutaro

He always has been jealous, and always will be. Gyutato fears that you are going to leave him at any time and any day. That makes him incredibly clingy and protective of you and he refuses to leave your side, ever. He follows you around everywhere and tries to hover around you at all possible times. You had to convince that demon that you are perfectly capable to use the bathroom on your own without him needing yo stand right beside you. But after you finished up and left, you found Gyutaro crouched down beside the bathroom door, waiting and listening in case something somehow happens to you.

It’s incredibly tiring to have to be so careful around him. You fear that if you stray too far from him or disappear from his sight for too long that Gyutaro might start either slashing humans out of frustration or start scratching himself again. It’s mentally extremely weighing onto you. You tried to tell Daki about her brother and how stressed he’s making you feel, but she obviously takes Gyutaro’s side and shifts the issue back onto you.

“Well have you ever considered that my brother is just being very loving, hm? You better appreciate it you ungrateful human.”

Daki’s words did certainly not help you feel any better. She of course told her brother about you confiding in her, wich made Gyutaro almost seethe in jealousy and anger. That same night, you two had the worst argument yet.

You tried to tell him how suffocating he is while he is accusing you of not loving such a like creature like him. Your attempts at telling him how much you actually love and cherish him failed.

"No matter what you say or do, I-I’ll never be good enough for you...! You’re just pr-pretending to love me because you feel sorry for me…Deep down, you think I’m ugly, dirty and disgusting…”

The gut-wrenching sound of Gyutaro scratching his own skin open filled the silence as you stared at him. Gods, you had enough. You’re too exhausted to fight against his insecurities right now, so instead of continuing this useless argument, you stormed off into your private bedroom. After turning your back to him, you heard his nails tear through his own flesh and bones incredibly slowly and agonisingly.

You laid down on top of your large bed and faced away from the door, trying not to think about his words or the sound of Gyutaro’s blood gushing out of his flesh wounds. You were so concentrated on trying to think about anything else that you didn’t notice how you slipped into a deep slumber. You only woke up to the sound of bones cracking and crushing together.

Lifting your head, you scanned the space on the bed beside you. Empty. As you sat upright, you managed to glance over the edge of the bed, spotting Gyutaro being curled together on the floor. He looked like a very unnaturally bend puppy that wasn’t allowed to sleep on the bed. After calling out to him, he silently lifted his head to look at you.

Even looking at him caused a wave of nausea and guilt wash over you. Not a single inch of his skin was left unharmed by his own doing, and he seemingly refused to let them heal. His blood started to soak the carpet beneath him. Gyutaro slowly started to sit back upright, his spine cracking and breaking.

“Mh… mrrm.. am I-I allowed.. to la-lay beside you?���

💠

This took me multiple days to write so it may feel a little off. I loved writing this so much!! I always read the comments and reblogs, so don’t be shy to leave any! I appreciate every single one of you and the love you leave behind on my posts <3 I am currently working through my inbox, so expect more asks to be published over the week.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[suzubelle-chan]

Breaking Chains Chapter 1

(Just a quick note, you may be spoiled if you haven’t finished the manga up to say Volume 12 since I mention characters and events that happen later on. Just in case you haven’t gotten that far or want to watch the anime first)

Thank you so much Ipham2525 for beta reading this fic! Now onto the story!

In which an unusual doctor makes a house call to the Sacrificial Princess

The King of Beasts roared at the menagerie of doctors cowering before him. Two weeks ago, he demanded that all available doctors gather at his castle. They crammed in, eager to earn the king’s favor. However, the roars of his majesty only grew louder, stronger, and more frequent in frustration.

For not one of the doctors could cure the human princess.

“Incompetent fools!” The king glared at the men, Beasts of all kinds faltering at his feet.

“Forgive us, your majesty,” said a bull from the Black Bovine-folk, either braver or forced to the front of the group to speak for all of them.

“Each and every one of you swore that you were the finest in your lands, if not the whole realm. Yet, none of you have done a single thing to help our queen.”

“Well,” a Rooster-folk raised his head slightly. “There was no mention that your bride was human….”

“Sounds like excuses,” the king growled out.

Another beast, more ears than head, sputtered, “S…she’s just too different! None of us here can treat a human.”

A woman’s voice called out, “Maybe you’re just a bunch of cowards who didn’t try enough.”

Everyone in the hall turned to see a lone crow standing there amongst the kneeling doctors. She was short, with a hood almost covering her eyes. A cloak covered her body, but still, they could make her out to be plump. A few feathers in her right wing held a large bag with a handle.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Anubis asked.

“I am known as Leona Carrin.” The birdfolk bowed, her beak moving slightly with each word. “I heard that there was someone sick in the King of Beasts’ castle so I came here.”

“But you’re a woman,” the lord speaker protested, all four of his eyes glaring.

The bird person tipped her head. “Huh, what was your first clue?” She glanced down at her chest and then covered it with her wings. “Excuse me sir, I’m a married woman, thank you very much.”

Gasps from doctors and fellow chancellors boomed throughout the hall.  Some snickers escaped from the younger soldiers standing guard. A quick glare from Anubis silenced them.

“We don’t require a midwife. I don’t know how you got in here, but be off with you.” Another council member with large pointed ears dismissed her with the wave of a skinny hand.

Leona leaned in, pointing a feather. “Hey! Don’t go insulting midwifery, it’s a grand profession. One most people owe their lives to. I can act as a midwife and doctor, whatever my patients need more. And I got in through the front door, like the other doctors. Though if being a woman disqualifies me…” The woman flopped over, tugging at her head. A black piece of fabric came off, along with her beak. Men gasped as black hair spilled out of her costume.  When she arose, the men saw a human face with brown eyes, the hair flowing down past her waist, covering half her face. A white streak in her hair acted as a dividing line between hair and skin. She tugged at her wings until they came off along with a pair of black gloves. Her lips smirked as she crossed her arms revealing her rough hands. “Then I guess being human isn’t going to help my chances.”

No beast stirred.

The human blinked; head tilted. “What is it, my breath?” She raised up her right hand, exhaled, and then sniffed. She then shrugged and turned back to the men.

“What are you doing here?” The King of Beasts asked, scowling.

“I heard there was a sick person, probably human. Some rumors disagreed on species, but human kept coming up so here I am.” She then started making small circles with her hands. “Although, no one could tell me if this was the ‘hacking-up-a lung, fever, throwing up’ kind of sick or the ‘mood swings, mad ravings, trying to eat socks’ kind of sick. Which is it?”

There was a slight pause as all the men looked at each other, asking if they were all seeing and hearing the same thing.

“What’s a sock?” one lizard soldier leaned in, whispering.

A fox soldier leaned in towards his comrade. “I think it’s a thing humans put on their feet.”

“Uh…the first one?” the king stated uncertainly.

“Thank you. I like to knowing what to expect in a patient’s room.” Leona picked up her bag and took several steps. “She’s in this room, right? Unless you like group around and argue outside of totally innocent broom closets.”

Anubis launched and stationed himself right in front of the human. “Now stop right there, human. You have no right to be here.”

The human doctor sighed, looking the minister right in the eye. “I know you don’t like me. I’m human so it’s a given. You have no reason to like me. But you don’t have to like me to let me do my job. You’ve let all kinds of people treat this princess of your majesty, maybe you need one more kind. I’ve never turned down a patient, regardless of wealth, status, or how many fingers they’ve got. ‘If you can, help.’ That’s been my family’s motto and I intend to live by it.”

Leonhart watched this small woman almost glare at his minister. Her brown eyes shone, determination brightening them. Just like how Sariphi’s eyes shone whenever she declared her intentions, steadfast and strong. He sighed the smallest of sighs.

“That is the room you seek, human. Anubis, let her pass.”

The chancellor turned towards his lord. “Sire!”

The king held his paw out. “She speaks the truth. We’ve asked other doctors to cure our queen consort. So, we shall ask one more.”

“Thank you.” Leona gave a bow, hand extended behind her. She then took several steps towards the menagerie of doctors and then rummaged through her bag, pulling out a ring made out of blue stone, placing it on her left hand. She then pulled out a pen and some paper. She licked the pen and posed, ready to write. “Alright, patient name?”

“Why ask us that?”

“I want to be sure we are all working on the same person. You’d be surprised how often I find patients with some kind of amnesia or dealing with some shady people, trying to pass off one person as another. So patient name?”

“Sariphi.”

As pen broke through paper, Leona flinched. “I’m sorry?”

“Sariphi. Her name is Sariphi.”

Leona tilted her head, shaking a bit. “That’s a name? Are you sure it isn’t short for Seraphina or Saphira or some other Saphy-ish name?”

“No.”

“Okay…” She then wrote it down with beasts catching her mutter, “Parents and their crazy baby names.” She then spoke out loud. “Last name?”

The beasts blinked. The chancellor said, “What?”

“Her last name, family name…” The woman stared at the beasts in confusion. “It’s something all humans have. You heard mine, Carrin, I got it from my parents.” She then turned to the King of Beasts, “You never told her doctors your future wife’s last name.”

Silence filled the room.

“Oh Mothers, you don’t even know her last name?” Leona deadpanned.

“She never told us, it’s not important at the moment,” the king dismissing it with a turn of his head.

“I’d argue it is, since it means she might be some kind of feral kid who’s never had a guardian. Even orphans get last names from the places that raise them.” The doctor sighed. “Alright, moving on…age?”

“Fifteen.”

Leona winced, again punching another hole through the paper.  She shot the king a glare and sighed to herself as she got some more paper. “Where did the Mothers go wrong with men?”

“What was that?” Anubis glared.

“Nothing, just a thought. Birthday?”

Once again, the doctors blinked and glanced at the king. The king didn’t face anyone, although his ears pressed against his head.

“Alright, where’s the royal doctor?” Leona called out, dropping her paper and pen.  “I think the king’s mind needs examination as soon as possible.”

“That’s enough!” Anubis almost roared himself.

Leona placed her hands on her hips. “Come on, not knowing the birthday of the person you intended to share your life with is kind of low.”

“WE. DON’T. KNOW!” The king roared.

Like the rest of the beasts, Leona closed her eyes at the blast of air, hand on the hair covering her face. Now she tightened her face into a painful smile. “Alright my turn. Pardon me your majesty, I’m just gonna need one moment.” She placed her things next to her bag. The beasts watched as the human stomped towards the nearest window, flung it open, took in a deep breath and yelled, “FUCK YOU!”, while holding both her hands in the air, middle fingers sticking out. She then sighed and shut the window. Leona faced her audience. “Sometimes you just got to curse at a god, society, the world, you know?”

The king huffed, a little bit of smoke coming out of his mouth. “Cease this behavior at once.”

“I’m just following simple doctor procedure. Is it my fault no one knows anything about this girl?” She sighed. “Let’s focus on the medical for now. Hopefully, I’ll get some real answers there.” She picked up her paper and pen. “Okay so what symptoms does the patient show?”

“Nausea, coughing, chills, fever, severe weakness due to the last one…” one doctor listed off.

Leona frowned, “That covers a lot of ground, disease-wise. What have you been giving her? Any kind of spell treatments?”

The priest stepped forward. “Forgive me, madam, but using magic on a human is dangerous. We have no way of knowing how a human body would react to such forces.”

“So, you haven’t tried anything at all…not even some kind cough-be-gone spell?”

The furry creature shook his head. “Again, too risky.”

Leona pinched her fingers an inch apart. “Not even a teeny-tiny spell?”

“Of course not.” He let out a huff.

“Alright.” She turned to the group of doctors. “So, no magic treatment. How about physical? What medication has she been given? Plants or animal?”

“You wouldn’t be able to understand. It would be so hard for your…particular mind to comprehend,” a tall emu doctor said.

Leona crossed her arms. “Try me, sir.”

“Well,” a lizard folk, a skin-like frilled collar around his neck, stepped up. “It’s just due to the miasma, different plants grow in the two realms. Thus, you might not be familiar with what grows here similar to how we don’t know what grows in the human realm. Nor do we know what effect beasts’ plants may have on a human.”

“You’ve got a point there. But you have been giving her medicine, right?”

“We have, of course.” A little figure waved a paw.

“Yet she hasn’t shown signs of improvement?” Leona rubbed her head. “Let me think…first thing, is this Sariphi taller or shorter than me?”

“You two seem around the same height, but I think you’re just a bit taller than her,” a sparrow-looking beast decided.

“Alright, do you think she weighs less than I do or more?”

Another awkwardness enveloped the room.

“Please answer the question. And please next time only bring in your professionalism, leave any shame out the door.” Leona sighed.

“She’s thinner than you,” a ferret declared.

“What’s the point of these questions?” The bull doctor asked.

“Because how much medication you need to give them depends on how big the patient is.” She stuck out her thumb, pointing to the king and his advisor. “You certainly wouldn’t give his royal furriness the same amount as mister tall, dark, and snapping dog over there. One of them got muscle for days and the other is practically just fur and bones. Even if they had the same illness, I certainly wouldn’t give them the same amount. Would you?”

There was a mixed reaction, some men actually nodded with hums of affirmation. Others seem to shuffle and find parts of the ceiling very interesting.

“Now that I’ve got a reference, how much medicine have you given her and how often?” Leona asked.

“What does that have to do with anything?” the rooster said.

“Hey, sometimes it’s not what you give them but how much and how often you do it. Even the weakest poisons can kill with enough doses.”

Everyone blinked again.

“What?” Leona blinked and smiled. “So, none of you ever get pulled into examining dead bodies when you’re on the road or vacation? Must be nice.” She sighed and then straightened up. “So can each of you tell me how much you’ve given her?”

Each doctor produced something in his paws or wings. Leona looked over everything.

Leona then clapped her hands and pointed into the crowd. “Alright, can you, then you and you, please come forward.”

The frilled lizard, the sparrow, and the ferret came forward.

“Now can you tell me, what made you come up with these measurements?”

“Uh well, you see, we are friends, you see,” the lizard spoke.

“Really?” Leona said with a smile and a tilt of the head.  

“Ah yes, well, our clans have gotten along now since we were small. So we’ve often taken turns, caring for the sick and injured,” the ferret said.

“We based our estimations off of treating some of the smaller members of our clans,” the sparrow piped up.

“I see…that’s why your dosages are similar to what I’d give her,” Leona pondered out loud.

“What?” every doctor exclaimed.

“Yeah, given what you’ve told me, I’d give her similar amounts; it might be a bit different if I knew her exact height and weight.” She turned to the rest of the group.  “The rest of you were giving her what? Beast-child’s portions? I’ve seen your kids, they barely come up to my knee. You really think that amount could help an almost grown human woman? Even if she’s small, she still needs more.”

“But we still didn’t cure the queen.” The sparrow sighed.

“Well, that part is up in the air.” Leona shrugged. “It could be whatever you gave her might not work on humans. Or perhaps she needs a slightly different dosage. It’s hard to say without more time to treat her.”

The king sneered, “So this is what our land produces as doctors.”

Many doctors flinched. The three bowed lower.

“Hey you can’t blame the doctors for all of this…” Leona glanced at the larger group. “Completely.” Her attention then focused on the king, “If you want to keep a different species in your house, you’ve got know what to expect. Reminds me of when kids will bring home animals as pets with no clue how to take care of them at all. Leads to all kinds of trouble. That might be the reason you don’t know much about her at all.”

The king growled.

“Hey, just something to think on.” Leona rummaged through her bag and pulled out several large tomes and placed them into the priest’s paws. The moment he held the books, the white beast slammed into the ground. “Here you go, some human medical books. Translated for your convenience, of course.  There’s plenty of stuff about various plants used, there’s got to be something similar growing around here.” She then picked up her bag. “I think it’s about time to meet my patient now.”

Leona took several steps towards the room.

“Wait.” The king held out a paw.

She paused, looking rather disapprovingly over her shoulder.

The King of Beasts sighed, “What you say has merit. We do need a human’s help to save our bride. But know this.” He glared at the woman, a stare that sent many beasts shivering. “Do any harm to her and you will pay dearly for it. You’ll wish you’d never taken one step into our land. Understand that much.”

Leona stood firm. “Trust me, sire. I may be just a human and maybe one with a death wish, my husband would agree with you on that. Begged me not to come here, but he also knows I can’t turn my back on someone who needs my help. I’ll do everything I can to cure this bride you…care about.”

“We shall hold you to your word, human. Do no fail her or us.”

“Thank you.” Leona gave a bow. Just as she opened the door, she twisted her head over the shoulder. “Despite all I’ve said, it’s..nice to mee you, your majesty.”

Once the door shut behind her, Anubis glared daggers at it, trying to mentally will that chaotic, insolent woman out. It was already bad enough the king was losing his mind over one human, two humans in the King of Beasts’ castle ensured chaos. The public already held an inkling about that little girl, things finally settling down after that uprising with Fenrir. If people thought the king would be siding with humans…

Starting with at least three different scenarios in his mind, Anubis calculated how he could minimize the people’s knowledge of this second human. In the middle of his thoughts, Anubis’s eyes caught the king leaning towards the door. The chancellor let himself groan out loud as he stretched out his paw, blocking the royal.

“Sire, we’ve been over this. We can’t risk you being exposed to this disease. While it may be a human disease, there’s no telling how harsh it would be on you should you catch it. It’s best to trust servants with caring for her, in this case.”

“We know…we know…”

Anubis flinched ever so slightly. Although he’d seen that look for the last two weeks, it never failed to surprise him to see so much…longing and…sorrow…in the face of the king he’d trusted for so long.

Meanwhile, Leonhart paid no mind to his companion. Indeed, he paid no mind to anyone else in hall. Instead, he just gazed at the door. With each doctor, he’d hoped that this time, finally this time, Sariphi would be alright. That he could hold her in his arms and thank God for giving her back. So he could just be by her side again. But he never thought God ever listened to his prayers; this situation was more proof. So he had to pin his hopes on another stranger, what little he had left after all this time.  

 Inside the infirmary, Amit wiped Sariphi’s bright red forehead with a sigh. After all this time, the princess felt as though she was pouring out a bucket on a city-wide fire.

For almost two weeks, Sariphi lied in bed, fever scorching her mind, yet her body often shivered from chills.  She barely ate or drank, nausea dictating the bucket at her bedside. She didn’t even have the strength to keep her eyes open. Amit spared one glance to Bennu by Sariphi’s head, little wings clutched like fists, before stepping away.

The princess sighed as she turned around, lifting the curtains around the bed to see her friends where they’ve been for the last two weeks: Cy and Clops on one bed, trembling with worry. Lanteveldt on another, crossing his legs back and forth, paw tapping on his knee.

The hyena rested his hand on his paw, looking at the black creatures. “I know I’ve said this before, but are you sure we can’t leave her in the human realm for a bit? Didn’t the king leave her there when she got sick before?”

Clops lamented, letting out a sigh as big as he was. “The last time his majesty left Sariphi in the care of humans, he just needed a few days to come up with a way for her to live without worrying about miasma poisoning. She’s only gotten worse as the weeks go by, it’s hard to say how long this illness lasts. Plus, the humans kicked her out because she was a sacrifice. Now any human town might just kick her out on the spot without giving any help since they fear his majesty so much. And we can’t stay by her side in the human realm without them trying to kill us too…”

“No way,” Cy lamented.

They heard some shouting in the hall, but at this point they were used to it. The king yelling at the doctors, the doctors protesting, the council adding their own comments. Weeks-long song they knew the lyrics by now, so they tuned it out. They did hear one odd note, something akin to a woman’s yell, but they supposed it was just a maid in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“And Sariphi doesn’t really have anyone we can ask,” Amit continued, sitting down on another nearby bed, all the companions no more than a few steps from Sariphi.  “Her family won’t come for her and the only person I can think of who would dare come is her childhood friend. Yet he’s been banished after kidnapping her. Plus, we don’t have a way of reaching out and contacting him anyway.”

A small click sent the beasts facing towards the opening door. Despite all the doctors who left their Sariphi behind, they held their breaths, scraping up just a little bit of hope for their friend.  

The group watched as a human woman wearing a black cloak opened the door, her face half covered by mostly black hair. She twisted her neck and said, “Despite all I’ve said, it’s…nice to meet you, your majesty.” When the woman shut the door behind her, she slumped against the wood, head tilted upwards. “All of the Family help me, that was hard.” She then looked and saw the group of beasts gaping at her. “Uh…hi. Are you here for the human too or did I make a wrong turn somewhere?”

“A human doctor…here.” Amit said in awe, hand in mouth. She leapt to her feet and then crashed into the human, hugging her tightly to her chest. “Oh thank God! Thank God!”

“Hey there, we humans are squishy things that need air,” Leona murmured, face squished tightly against Amit’s chest. She gently pushed the maiden away, looking up at her. Leona watched tears stream down the crocodile’s face. Leona asked, almost in awe, “Do you…care about the human? Really care and not just because the king told you to?”

“Of course, Lady Sariphi is a dear friend to all of us,” the reptile maiden said.

“Sariphi…” The human doctor let out a sad sigh. “That’s really her name…”

“Pardon?” Amit asked.

“Don’t worry about it, let’s just focus on her health for now,” she muttered a bit. “If not for her own, then for my sanity.”  She pulled up her sleeve, using it to wipe Amit’s face. “I’m going to do everything to help your friend. I promise.” She then tugged at her cloak with her hand. “Let me just get a bit more comfortable, alright?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” the woman sighed. She tugged the cloak off her, revealing a dress made out of feathers, which soon joined its companion on the floor, a few feathers scattering. The woman, now in a white top with something brown around her waist and small white shorts and brown boots, plopped her bag on the bed. Several scars scattered over her arms and legs. One could just see a pink shape at the bottom of her right wrist. She pulled out a white long-sleeved shirt and black pants. After taking off her boots and socks, she put on the shirt, pants, and put back on the boots. She then pulled out a black ribbon, tying her hair back.

Everyone gasped.

On her face, four red scars slashed across her eyebrow, almost touching her lip.  

“What?” Then she touched the side of her face. “Ah right, my scars. I got these a long time ago, long before your Sariphi was born. I didn’t want anyone to think I had a grudge against beasts with these so I covered them up.”

Cy pointed with his tiny hand. “They hurt?”

“Nah, they stopped hurting a long, long time ago.” The doctor stepped towards the bed. “Now let’s see this princess…”

Bennu leapt up into the air and in a burst of light transformed into his large form, white flames flowing at the edges of his wings.  “NOW JUST WAIT A MOMENT HUMAN! I���VE HAD IT WITH DOCTORS COMING IN AND FAILING MY MISTRESS! IF YOU FAIL HER, YOU’LL WISH A BEAST WOULD CHOMP YOU DOWN!”

However, all Leona heard were several screeches right to her face. She quickly held her hands up. “Easy…easy…I’m here to help, Mr. Big Beast Bird.” She twisted her head. “Is this some kind of guardian the king set up or something?”

“That’s Lord Bennu, Sariphi’s holy beast. He’s been doing that with all the doctors lately…I apologize.” Amit admitted with a bowed head.

“Bennu….the Bennu?  The bird that heals troops of men with a single beat of his wings? I’ve heard legends about this guy.” Leona bowed to the holy beast, hands still up in the air. “It’s a great honor to meet you, my lord.” Then she stood up, a finger pointed at him. “Wait, if he’s the great healer I’ve heard about, why didn’t he just magic Sariphi better?”

Amit clasped her hands, her head still down. “It would seem Lord Bennu’s domain is injuries, not illnesses.”

“Yeah.” Lanteveldt shrugged, pointing to the large bird. “Can’t help with motion sickness, can’t help with whatever Sariphi’s got, but handy to have around if you get stabbed.”

The holy beast squawked loudly in the hyena’s face, “SHUT UP, CUR!”

Leona gently took the bird’s beak in her hands, a serene, yet serious look on her face.  “I bet it’s hard for you as well, seeing this girl ill. Feels like I’m making promises until my face turns blue, but I’ll say it again. I’ll do all I can do to help your lady.” She slowly scratched his head. “So may I please see her?”

The holy beast glowered at her and with a huff, he returned to his small form, wings crossed.

“I’m keeping an eye on you, lady. No funny business!” he chirped out.

“Of course, whatever you say, my lord,” she added, scratching his head with a single finger. He let out a small blush as he crossed his wings.

Leona reached for the curtain, yet paused as she took in a deep breath, a serious look now on her face. “Now time to meet this rumored princess of the King of Beasts.” She pulled back the curtain and looked down at Sariphi with her red face. The doctor leaned towards the maiden’s face, gently caressing her forehead and then her cheek.

At the contact, Sariphi’s eyes fluttered. “Who?” she croaked; voice rusty from weeks of no use. She tried to open her eyes wider, but the lids refused to move. Instead, she tried lifting her head. “Leo?”

If there was a moment of shock, a slight pause in Leona’s stroking, she resumed before anyone could notice. “Hey there, kiddo. I’m a doctor, the last one you’ll need if we’re lucky.” She placed her bag, opened it up, and then pulled out a metal cone attached to a white wire with a small metal tip at the end. She pressed the cone to Sariphi’s chest, putting the tip in her ear. “Okay, Sariphi. I’m gonna need you to take in a deep breath, the deepest you can, okay?”

The maiden nodded and inhaled audibly, but her chest didn’t move much.

“Uh-huh…” the woman muttered, slightly adjusting the cone. She rose, putting away her device. “Her lungs are really congested; she’s got a fever.” She then turned towards the group. “Has she had trouble eating?”

“Indeed, she barely eats anything. Sometimes it seems like she has trouble keeping water down too,” Amit commented, starting to sniffle.

At that moment, Sariphi’s cheek puffed up, hand flying to her mouth. She bobbed with gags.

“Ah, the bucket!”

“Bucket!”

Leona glanced around and saw the bucket, right by her boot. She quickly lifted it towards the maiden. Sariphi managed to push herself to lean over the bucket, gagging and releasing the contents of her mouth. The beasts flinched at the familiar watery and brown ooze. Some slipped over the side and ended up sloshing right on the woman’s boots.

Sariphi slowly pushed herself away, eyes open just a crack. Their unfocused, almost blurry gaze only added to her haggard appearance. “Sorry,” she croaked, wiping some of the brown slime off her lips.

Leona set the bucket at her bedside, then rubbed the maiden’s back. “No need to apologize. You’re sick. What kind of doctor would I be if I flinched at patients being sick in front of me?” Leona slowly lowered the woman back down on the pillows. “A lousy one with a very short career, that’s what.”

A puff of laughter escaped Sariphi’s lips. She clenched the woman’s hand, smiling softly. “Thank you.”

“Save your words until you’re better.” Leona ruffled the snow-white hair just a bit. Now she turned again to the group. “Did she have long hacking coughs before she ended up like this? It’s often the first sign of illness.”

The hyena’s ears perked up. “Yeah, about two weeks ago, they started up. Thought she was hacking up a hairball. But she insisted she was fine, didn’t want to see the priest. Of course, seems like the priest is useless just like the rest of the docs.”

“Perhaps if we had pushed her back then…the priest could have done something,” Amit lamented, tears slipping out.

The two black balls, trembling so hard now, looked down. Clops sobbed, “It’s our fault.”

“Fault,” Cy agreed.

Leona held her hands up. “Hey, it’s no one’s fault when someone gets sick.” Then she paused, rubbing her chin. “Well, unless those fancy-looking, old fleabags locked her up in a dark, dingy cell while the king was away, then we can blame them. But I doubt we’ll get that lucky. And I’m not going to lie, when people get illnesses like this, without the right attention, they tend to fade fast. The fact you’ve managed to keep her alive this long shows how much you care.”

“Of course, we care about Sariphi,” Amit declared, hands against her heart. “We love her!”

“Yeah, we love her!”

“Love!”

Lanteveldt scratched his nose, his face a little pink. “Well, she is my lady. I wouldn’t be a knight without her. But sounds like you’ve seen this disease before, that means you can cure it, right?”

Leona smiled. “You’re a smart one.” She opened up her bag. “Now I’ve talked to the doctors outside, so it’ll be safe for her to try some new medicine.” She pulled out two vials. “I recommend two spoonfuls of this one every three hours.” She held out the white bottle. “And then two spoonfuls of this one every four hours.” She offered up the brown bottle. “In case I’m not here when it’s time to give her medicine.” She then set the bottles on the bedside table.

“That is quite a bit,” Amit commented.

Leona twisted her head towards the princess. “Say what?”

“Pardon me, it’s just that most of the doctors never gave my lady that much.”

Clops included, “Well, they were giving beast medicine to a human. So they gave her smaller doses.”

“A lot smaller,” Cy agreed.

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Leona commented. “Sounds like a good portion even didn’t show up in the first place, made more complaints about the patient not responding to their medication rather than actually helping her.” She then turned towards Sariphi.  “Although, it would be better if she had something to eat.” She then turned towards Amit. “Pardon me miss, could you fetch something for Sariphi to eat. Something light and maybe a bit salty?”

Yet Amit didn’t move, staring wide-eyed with a slight shiver in her stance. Leona glanced around the room and saw all of the beasts looking startled as they stared at something. She followed their gazes to her bag, now wiggling on its own. Out of its open mouth, a red box appeared, balanced on a brown kitten's head. It let out a small meow.

“Aw! Sekhmet, good idea!” The woman reached up and picked up the kitten, revealing the dark trails all over her body which made a wing-like pattern on her back. “What would I do without you?” she asked as she snuggled the kitten, who mewed in response. The woman set the cat down on the bed. The moment her little paws hit the sheets; she dashed over to Sariphi’s head. Yet Bennu stopped her, squawking at her. The cat stopped abruptly, back arched as she hissed at the little bird.

Leona smiled, grabbing the kitten by the neck. She used her other hand to wave a finger at the kitten. Her smile continued as she chided, “Now, now, Sekhmet. Lord Bennu was here first. He’s more in charge here than I am. Be nice.”

Once set down, the cat’s ears lowered in an almost bow at the bird. She then set upon the important task of licking Sariphi’s hand.

“What is that?” Lanteveldt asked, pointing at the cat.

“That is a cat. The not-beastly type that doesn’t talk or eat humans. Her name is Sekhmet. She’s my dear companion and often acts as an assistant on these house calls.”

“Are you sure you can keep her here? If his majesty finds out…” Amit said.

Leona tore open the box with her finger, sitting down next to Sariphi. “If he has a problem with my pet, then he’ll have to take it up with Sekhmet herself.  Hope he knows how to deal with claws.”

The doctor wheezed laughter at her joke as she pulled out a small, round, grain-colored disc. The rest of the room just watched and blinked.  After a few deep breaths, her laughter ceased and she turned towards Sariphi, offering the circle near her lips. “This should help settle your stomach enough for you to take some medicine. Try to eat some, okay?”

The patient shifted away from the kitten, giving a small nod. Her mouth opened just a crack to let in the cracker. Slowly she chewed and swallowed. Then she opened her mouth again and continued to eat one small disc after another until the box was half empty.

“Bet that tastes good after so long, right?” Leona asked, stroking the girl’s head.

Sariphi gave a small nod and a small smile, eyes still firmly closed.

Leona smiled, tapping the brown bottle, powder now tipping into a small cup. “Alright, now I’ve got some medicine for you. It won’t taste as good, but it will help you feel better, okay?”  

Once again, Sariphi nodded and opened her mouth. Leona tipped the medicine into the girl’s mouth, watching her face twist, lips puckered. Then Sariphi stuck out her tongue and groaned.

“Yeah, it seems like it’s medicine’s lot in life to be bad tasting,” Leona commented as she washed the cup and filled it with the brown powder.  “My ma told me it just drives whatever ails you out because they can’t stand it either.” She then pressed the cup to Sariphi’s lips. “Once again please.”

Again, Sariphi obeyed. Leona smiled, grabbing a cup of water from the nearby table, tipping that into Sariphi’s mouth. “Alright, that’s enough meds for now. Get some rest.”

Sariphi nodded again, cheek against pillow now, a small smile on her face. Sekhmet snuggled against the maiden’s forehead. Leona hummed, a warm low sound, as she rubbed the maiden’s cheek. The doctor then slowly rose and pulled the curtains down. Just as she turned around, Amit clutched Leona to her, letting out small sobs.

“Oh, thank you, Miss Leona!” she declared. “I haven’t seen Sariphi eat so much in so long!”

The two black blobs clung onto her legs. “Thank you so much! Sariphi’s going to get better, right?” Clops asked, voice wobbling.

“Better?” Cy’s voice trembled like his brother’s.

“Yeah, I’d say so. It might be a bit, maybe a week or so, given how long she’s been sick. It’ll be a few days before we see any change in her though. I’d better tell the king my findings.” She tugged at the ribbon, releasing her hair and sliding it over the scarred half of her face. She looked down to see Cy and Clops, still shaking but one mouth and one eye set in determination.

“We’ll go with you. We’ll testify you’re a good doctor in front of the king.”

“We will!”

Leona smiled, patting the two small beasts at the top of their heads. “Thanks, little spooks.” She took in a deep breath and stepped out into the hallway. Not a single man had left.

“Well, human? How is the patient?” The bull doctor asked.

Leona commented, “It’s Doctor Human, please and thank you. And she’s in a pretty bad way.”

Somewhere in the menagerie, another voice spoke, “See, your majesty, not even human medicine can help the acting queen consort!”

“You didn’t let me finish.” She turned towards the king, “Good news your majesty,” Leona declared. “I know what’s wrong with your future queen, I’ve got medications to help, so, barring an act of the Family or your God, I’d say she will recover.”

“Is that so?” Anubis asked.

“Yes!” Clops declared, floating right around Leona’s arm. “She got Sariphi to eat food and take some medicine! That’s got to be worth something!”

“Something!” Cy shouted.

“Aw shucks, you little spooks,” Leona said, rubbing the back of her head. “Just doing what doctors are supposed to do.” She then gave the king a hard look. “But it does appear you need some human help around here. The decision is well… in your court, your majesty.”

Just then, one of the fox guards ran down the hall with two other beasts behind him. One was a dog folk, golden silky fur trailing from his simple shirt and pants, his ears long and covered in long fur, a blue stone earring on his left ear. The other was a reptilian woman wearing a light-yellow dress and veil, black spots on her brown scales. A necklace of blue beads on a black cord hung around her neck.  As they came before the king, the two men bowed while the woman curtsied, all panting.

“Will, Juno, you made it!” Leona smiled, waving.

The two beasts gave one horrified look at the woman before groaning. The dog pulled at his ears, grumbling. The lizard clasped her eyes, shaking her head. She looked up, agony on her face. “Your majesty, if you are going to execute us, please make it swift.”

“Let me tell my family I loved them,” the dog asked, one finger pointed up, his other paw still clutching his ear. “That’s all I ask.”

Anubis’s eyes glanced between the newcomers. “Do you…know each other?”

Leona brightened. “Yeah, we go way back. I’ve known them for decades. We have an arrangement about helping each other.” She pointed to the dog. “That’s Will. Resident historian and nerd. Taught my kids how to read and write.” The finger then moved towards the lizard. “She’s Juno. Makes the best snacks any side of the Gate. Thanks to them, I was able to get this far into Ozmargo. Would it be alright if they stayed here with me while I look after your princess?”

The two beasts quickly bowed and curtsied respectfully.

Will took a step out. “Pardon our boldness, your majesty. I’ve known Leona for many years. She may be a peculiar…person. I’m sure you’ve already noticed. But she’s one of the best doctors in the land. I’ve seen her tend to beasts and humans alike and help them all with the same smile and care.” He lowered his head before continuing. “When my daughter was dying, Leona was the one who saved her. I’ll always be grateful to her for that.”

“Indeed,” the King of Beasts shifted a brow, then bore holes into the group.

He then turned to the doctors. “You are dismissed. We are certain you don’t need to be escorted on the way out.”

Most of the men scurried away. The lizard, sparrow, and ferret gave low bows to Leona before leaving.

The King of Beasts turned towards the woman. “Human woman.”

Leona stiffened before huffing, holding up a finger. “I’d rather be called Doctor human woman, if it’s all the same to you.

He gave a small inhale, the council and soldiers braced themselves.

She then held up both hands. “Okay, okay, you call me whatever you want. You’re the boss, king.”

“How long will it take for you to cure our bride?”

“Well, I’m estimating a week or so, given her dosage size.  I’d like to stick around a bit longer, just to make sure she’s made a full recovery.”

“Fair.” The King of Beasts held up his paw. “We shall offer you the same promise to those wretches. Tend to the queen consort-to-be. A boon if you cure her. Pray to God you don’t fail.”

He then turned away and left, his council following behind him.

“Leona…” Will started to growl.  Yet the human focused on the king, watching him stalk away, her hand clenching right over her heart.  

The dog sighed and placed a paw on her shoulder. She flinched, snapped out of her thoughts, twisting quickly to the man. Her expression melted into a warm smile, returning the one on his face.

He said, “Just let me know next time, okay? If you’d told me, I’d saved money on the inn and save you from going out the window.”

“Yeah.” She placed a hand on his paw, stretching her back. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Cy and Clops bounced over, hovering right by Leona’s face.

“Ms. Leona, are you alright?”

“Right?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“But why do you look so sad?”

Leona found her eyes clouding up with some tears. She quickly wiped them away with her sleeve. “Ah sorry to worry you little guys. I guess I’m tired. Plus, did you smell that roar? Phew.” She waved a hand in front of her face.

The two beasts continued to face her, Cy with his one eye and Clops with his large mouth.

“Ah right,” Leona noted. Then her brows rose in surprise. She then stepped away from the group, kneeling down where the king once stood, picking up a small pile of brown fur. “Hey spooks, does the king always shed like this?”

The blobs bounced over.

“We’ve never seen the king shed like this before.”

“Never.”

Leona hummed, “Looks like I’ve got a lot of work to do. Thanks, kids, for helping, but my friends and I will take it from here. Go get some rest.”

The two blobs cried out, “WHAT?!?

“Sorry doc,” Lanteveldt said, leaning on the door frame. “We’re happy to have you here. But we’re not leaving Sariphi when she needs us.”

Amit stood in the doorway; hands clasped in front of her. “Please ma’am. Let us stay.”

The whole group stared, blinking at one another.

“Ah right.” Leona held a hand out. “Will, Juno, these are…” then blinked. “I’m sorry, I never learned your names.”

“Oh, do forgive me please.” Amit gave a proper curtsy. “I’m Amit, sixth princess of Murga, it is an honor to meet you. Thank you two for escorting Miss Leona here.”

Juno stepped forward. “Think nothing of it, your highness. And it is a great honor to meet you as well. I’m Juno.”

Amit watched the older woman, her mouth trying to speak but no words came out. The hyena stepped up. “I’m Lanteveldt, Queen consort’s knight. You can call me Lan.”

“I’m Clops and this is my brother Cy, we’re Sariphi’s faithful servants.”

“Cy, hello!”

“Will, humble scholar, at your service.” He offered a small bow.

“Hello there,” Juno gracefully curtseyed.

Will held out his paw towards the human. “And of course, you’ve met Leona.”

“’Lo,” she said with a small wave.

Cy tugged at her pant leg. “Please, Miss Leona? Us stay, please?”

Leona turned away, hands out defensively. “Ack! Stop being so cute, you little spook! You’re messing with my heartstrings!” She then looked down at his earnest look and smiled. “Well, I’d be no better than those hypocrites if I didn’t listen to people who cared about my patients. But I’d like for you kids to take a small break, wash up, relax a bit. Let me and my friends get settled in and come back in, say, an hour? Sound fair?”

“Sounds alright by me.”

“Indeed.”

“Okay.”

“’Kay.”

The young folk left the adults. The princess twisted her head behind her, but then scurried away. The three adults watched them turn a corner. They glanced at each other. With a nod, they walked into the infirmary, shutting the door behind them. Juno all but collapsed on the bed while Will leaned on the wall. Leona stood between them.

“So…what’s the king like?” Will asked.

“Well, at first glance, he’s just like the old king, commanding and domineering. Threatening everyone…and maybe it’s me being crazy or hopeful, but for a few moments there…he sounded like his Pa…”

“Leona, I’ve known you for at least, what, a century now? And I know that you try to look for the good in others, Ghenna, that’s how you ended up married in the first place. And you’ve got a good sense of finding it in people where they least expect it. So I don’t think you’re crazy, well, at least this time. I bet deep down he’s got good in him.”

“Probably keeps in the liver. It’s a family trait,” Leona said, wiping her face again, a few tears leaking out. “Mothers, I’m so tired…” She then noticed her other companion, staring at the wall. “Juno, are you okay?”

Juno continued, still as a statue.  

“Juno? Juuuno? HERA!” Leona snapped her fingers in front of the reptile’s face.

The woman jumped up. “Yes. What? Sorry?”

The human blinked and let out a long “Ooooh! That princess…she’s your Amit. The one you’ve talked about.”

The lizard woman flinched, sighing and clutching her skirt. “I should have known they would send her here. I heard the stories, but I couldn’t have believed it. She must have been terrified coming here. I’ve wanted to see her so badly after all these years.” Now the fabric of the skirt bunched in her claws. “Yet if she finds out what happened…what I’ve done…”  

Leona sat down, leaning against her friend. “I mean, I’ve only known her for a few moments but she doesn’t seem to have changed much from that hatchling you loved and cared for. Still is really sweet. Still cries for others. Shame we didn’t know she was here; you could have warned me about how strong her hugs were.”

Juno sighed, “She did always cling so strongly to my skirts…”

“See? I bet the moment you tell her who you are, she’ll squish you in one of her hugs, the two of you will start bawling and it’ll be like you never left.”

The lizard woman smiled warmly. “That would be nice…” She then took the human’s hand. “And I’m really wishing you can reach your cub in some way.”

Leona squeezed her hand in return, leaning into the woman. “Thanks, I’ll need it. Hopefully, I’ll learn what to call him soon.”

Will sighed dramatically, slightly shoving the women away so he could sit between them, then hugged the women close to his sides.  “Well, looks like it’s reunions all around here. Alas, I have no child to reunite with here, so I guess I’ll just be the emotional support and shoulder to cry on here.”

“Aris, you sure?” Leona wiggled herself free from his grip, standing up. She pointed to the door behind her. “You sure you didn’t leave any little pups or cubs like that hyena when you stuck it to that bastard and ran off with your wife?”

“Please,” the dog started, waving a paw.  “The previous kings did everything they could to stamp out the hyena clan. I doubt our most beloved bastard would have offered me a hyena woman on a silver platter like other women. Though I wonder how one managed to get into the palace. Along with those Cyclopeans too, hard to find members of the Magic clan around here…”

“There’s a lot of stories to be told…” Leona looked up at the veiled bed.  “Can’t wait to hear hers especially.”

The two beasts twisted, following their friend’s gaze.  They both rose, stepping towards the bed eagerly. “I wonder if she looks like her wanted posters,” Juno pondered. “She looked very lovely in those.”

Still looking back on his friend, Will lifted the curtain. “Those things are terribly inaccurate. They always get the noses wrong.” As he twisted his head, he continued, “You’d think that with camera thingies, humans could—” However, once he saw the human girl, he froze.

“Will? Aristophanes?” Leona asked once she caught up to her friend. She followed his gaze, eyes just moving between the maiden’s white hair and the small bird lying against Sekhmet’s stomach.

“Leona…is that a holy beast I’m seeing near Sekhmet…” he pointed to the sleeping beauty. “Her holy beast?”

Leona looked at the two beasts curled up against each other. “Yeah, the kids said he was hers.”

“But…then her hair…” He now looked agasht at the white streak gracing Leona’s face.

“Hey, I was not in the best mindset when I started, you know that.” Leona wove the strands around her finger. “She probably had far better reasons than I did. Besides, if her hair is the result of summoning, she’d probably look more like a little old granny. You know about the Choseh people, she might be one of them. We’ll ask her when she’s better.”  A yawn escaped her lips.

The dog sighed, relief in his tone. He rubbed his eye. “You’re right. You humans are often right. But be careful about using our real names, you never know who might be listening. The council will never forgive me for the character assassination I’ve done to them.”

“Well, you did often kill them in your plays or demote them into toilet cleaners,” Juno commented. “But yes, the longer no one knows who we really are, the longer we can stay here.”

“Good point,” Leona said. “Make sure you let me know when that potion wears off on your eye. Looks like that bunch of relics doesn’t recognize you while it works.” She yawned, “Let’s get ready for bed, the kids will be back soon.”

Once Leona changed out of her clothes and into a T-shirt she could almost swim in, she sat down on the bed near the two holy beasts. “I hope you’ve explained to Lord Bennu everything, that I’d be really grateful if he kept this to himself for a while.”

The kitten meowed to almost everyone in the room, but Bennu and Leona heard, “Rest assured, my lady, Lord Bennu has allowed us to stay and for you to treat his lady. But he does request that should something go wrong; I use my powers to save her.”

Leona shrugged, “Sure, that was the plan all along. But I’m pretty sure he’s more of a swearing bird.”

The bird pointed a wing. “See, you young folks keep fixing the words of your elders for nothin’. You shouldn’t try so hard.”

“I didn’t want to you to hear such words, milady. You’re an excellent doctor and it pains me when people dismiss you.”  The kitten lowered her ears.

“Come on Sek, you know I’ve heard it all before.” Leona leaned, scratching her beast on the head. “But thanks for looking out for me.” Then she scratched the bird’s head. “Thank you Lord Bennu as well.”

The bird huffed, “Just cure my lady and keep her safe. Like you promised. Though some human booze wouldn’t hurt.”

“What did he say?” Leona asked.

Sekhmet replied, “He’s fine with it. He does want some human liquor though.”

“I’ve got some, I’ll start my payment tomorrow.” A yawn again broke her thoughts. “Okay?”

“Alright.” The bird quickly shifted, turning to his side. The kitten let out a small yawn and then curled around the bird as she fell asleep.

Leona then turned her attention to the maiden sleeping, wheezing with each breath. “I know I’m a terrible mother-in-law for letting you suffer like this. I’m selfish, using you to see my son after all these years.” She leaned down to pull out a small round bottle filled with a glowing, bright purple liquid. “But I promise that I’m here to take care of and love you like I should. Just have a little faith in me, okay?” She pulled out the cork, aiming the bottle at Sariphi. Vapor flowed out, quickly transforming into a large purple moth, landing right on the girl’s head and scattering into tiny purple specks. As the creature scattered, Sariphi’s wheezes almost ceased, her chest rising and falling more.

Leona smiled, kissing her fingers and pressing them onto Sariphi’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, dear.”

[konigsfaerie]

Sapphire Throne

Summary: While in the throne room, Loki finds a way to relieve his new queen's stress.

(sub!loki x dom!fem!reader)

cw: contains bdsm and femdom)

The Mortal Queen is what they called you, even though you were mortal no longer. You spent your childhood and formidable years on Earth, and when you met Loki and were taken to Asgard, your newfound people either loved or hated you. But the people that loved you adored you, would die for you, and the people that hated you really hated you, some going as far to commit treason to get you off of the throne. Some had views like Odin. Views such as mortals are of no consequence, only made to worship the gods of old and die at an early age. It infuriated them that someone from Earth could hold such power not only physically, but at court.

Nevertheless, Loki fell in love with you during your time on Earth and made you Asgard’s queen, and you stepped into the role with such love in your heart for your people, whether they detested you or not. As you sat on the throne, your love next to you, deciding whether to go into enemy territory, you placed a hand on your chin and contemplated for a moment, water running through your veins. “I hate to put our people at war again…. Our soldiers through more battles,” you said, your eyes falling to the floor and then back up to your council members. “But I fear if we don’t, Asgard might fall. We can’t risk our people like this.”

Most of the council members had the utmost respect for your rule, although one or two silently protested your status. “Is it decided, My Queen?”

You gave a look to Loki, and he nodded in return. “It is, Vastros. We will invade their territory within the next nightfall. We go to war this winter,” you proclaimed, slamming down your large staff, the color of lavender. The look on your face was no look of pride, of hope. It was the look of a woman knowing she would send her people to die, even though you were sure we’d win the war.

The entire castle shook with your proclamation, and Loki’s matching staff hummed in response. For many decisions, Loki let you take the lead, as he knew you needed to solidify your title as queen. It didn’t matter much, because on many, if not all issues, you eventually came to the same decision.

As the council members left in unison, both of you stayed at your thrones. You gave a deep sigh, a hand flying to your forehead.

You personally got to know almost all of the soldiers before you were first crowned. At first it was an act of simply wanting to gain trust among the people, but soon they became some of the most trusted friends you had. You were already a trained fighter, but the way of the Asgardians were much different, and your magic was extremely new to you. While you could wield the power of the elements, they taught you power of the supreme weapons they held. This was why it was so painful to declare war. You knew that many of the people you came to love so much would die on a nondescript, frozen-over battlefield, no one to send them off to Valhalla.

“I know you’re stressed, my darling,” Loki breathed, “but you did make the right decision.” His deep green eyes found your chocolate brown ones, full of love and sympathy. “I suppose I never warned you of how much it could hurt… making decisions for a whole nation of people.”

You shook your head. “No… I suppose I didn’t know how many enemies we had. How much they wanted to get their hands on our vaults.”

His face fell to the floor, knowing he couldn’t exactly say something to make all the hurt go away. He knew how much you loved the Asgardian people, your newfound people. And knowing some of them might die… He quickly fell back into his head, as he was quite likely to do. But you knew him completely. You knew his thoughts, his doubts. His thoughts of thinking he wasn’t good enough to rule Asgard, not good enough to rule beside his Mortal Queen, not good enough to love his queen and receive love in turn. You wouldn’t let him fall back into those doubts.

“There is one thing you could do to relieve my stress, pet,” you quipped, giving him a small smirk. While you would maintain your composure at almost all times, the love in your eyes couldn’t be mistaken.

His back straightened on his throne, his eyes slowly finding yours. “Anything,” he said, not much more than a breathless whisper at the sound of one of his favorite nicknames you gave him.

“Get on your knees.”

Loki was wearing his Asgardian leathers, and you also fell into traditional Asgardian fashions, a small blue cape adorning your shoulders to honor your favorite element, with small green accents to honor Loki, only going down to your mid-back. Beyond that, you had a white jumpsuit on and white boots, streaked with even more green.

Before you could blink, Loki was at your feet, his knees on the ground and his back perfectly arched like the good boy he was. “M-My queen.”

Many people would probably guess he was a brat, and you a brat tamer, of which you both could absolutely be, but the gods-honest truth was that he loved serving you in all ways. It got him off. It made his cock twitch. And seeing him on his knees for you made you wet. Something about his willingly submissive nature towards you and only you made you want to make him beg.

“Oh, sweet boy,” you teased with a chuckle, “you’re so ready for me.” Even with all the doom and gloom, you knew that throughout the meeting when he looked at you, he was imagining just this. You placed a boot on his shoulder, contemplating just what you had in store for him. “What shall I do with you?”

The guards were still at the doors, which undoubtedly made Loki more excited, knowing his personal guards knew how much he served his queen.

“Leave us,” you commanded.

As they gave a curt nod and exited with a bow, the doors closed with a loud thud and you gave another smirk. “I know you like it when they watch, my little prince,” you mused, gazing into those wanting eyes.

In turn, he gave a small whimper and bowed his head.

“Unclasp my cape,” you ordered.

His hands scrambled onto your body, feeling on you until he reached your cape, unhooking the small golden buttons with his fingers. “P-Please let me touch you. Please.”

A small, almost nonexistent golden zipper ran down your white jumpsuit, and as you unzipped yourself, you pushed him back onto his kneeling stance. “Touch me?” you teased, his mouth falling open as he realized you didn’t have anything underneath your clothes. Your body lay more than halfway exposed, his eyes going directly to your breasts.

“Touch… these?” You grabbed your tits, pushing them together and twisting your nipples in-between your two fingers. You gave a little moan, spreading your legs so he could see how you glistened.

He knew to stay put. To stay absolutely still until you said otherwise, because he was such a good boy for you. Because he had seen how you enjoyed punishing him so much the last time he dared to touch you without permission, spanking him and not letting him cum for days at a time until he begged for release. The ways in which you punish him each time he disobeys got more creative.

“Now, who’s my good boy?”

“Me! I-I am! I promise, just please let me-”

You grabbed his wrist, pushing his face into yours, letting his lips fall onto yours. As the two of you kissed, you grabbed his throat and pushed him towards your body, making his hands grab your thighs. “Touch me,” you breathed.

He went to work on your body, squeezing your thick thighs, going up to your equally thick torso, cupping your breasts. You could feel his breath hitching. As your tongue flipped over his, you used your powers to slip off his pants, revealing the feminine underwear he had on that you commanded he always wear.

“Up.”

At once, he jumped up and let you survey his body, a small pout on his lips from the ghost of touch he felt. You felt it too, but you’d never reveal that. In times like these, you’d never let him know just how much you needed his fingers against your body.

“Take your shirt off.”

He quickly stripped down, all but his underwear, as you hadn’t ordered him to do so. And he knew how much you liked looking at his cock straining the thin fabric, of his ass popping out of the cheeky, lacy underwear. Loki bit his lip, waiting for you to instruct him further. Needing you to tell him what to do, even yearning for it.

“Such a good little prince,” you observed, putting one finger on the lacy underthings and pulling them down, his rather heavy cock immediately popping out and standing to attention. “And an excited one, hm?”

You finally arose from your throne of crystal sapphire, walking behind and fetching a black collar. “Is this what you want?”

He suddenly was unable to speak, only nodding without abandon, knowing the collar was a special treat you only gave to him when he was extra obedient. You let out a chuckle, placing it around his neck until you heard a click. With any other collar, he might be able to unlock it, but not this one. You had specifically trained with the most experienced of magical designers and created this yourself. Only could you unlock it, and that’s why it excited him so much.

You sat back down upon your sapphire throne, abandoning your jumpsuit and spreading your legs, placing them on Loki’s back, pushing him to your pussy. “Make your mommy feel good.”

His tongue immediately got to work, spreading over your glistening folds and lapping at your clit. As soon as he started moaning, you knew you were done for. The vibrations were already sending you over the edge, and as you groaned, you grabbed a handful of his black curly hair quite roughly, which only made matters worse for him.

He scooted even closer to you, slowly pushing a finger into you. As his fingers pumped into you, you gripped one arm on your chair, the other holding his hair tightly. Not only was he pumping into you, adding another finger, but he curled them, knowing exactly where your g-spot was. “My love-” you moaned, “Fuck!”

His tongue worked away from your clit, obviously wanting to taste you for longer. He stroked your pussy with his tongue, up and down, up and down, which caused you to wriggle around in his mouth. You could hear nothing but moans from him, his tongue diving deep in your hole.

Unable to stand it any longer, you gave him an order. “My clit, now. Make me cum.” You could only hold your composure for so much longer.

You could feel the disobedience thrumming off of him, wanting his tongue inside you for as long as he could. His tongue entered your hole again and in response, you dug your boots into his back and he let out a small cry of pleasure. “Now!”

He immediately realized his mistake, his place, and his tongue started making circles around your clit slowly. “Ah, fuck, Loki!” you gasped. “Make your queen cum, make your mommy cu-” Your body pulsed with pleasure, digging your boots into him even more. As you tried to escape your orgasm, his hands found your thighs and his tongue kept your pleasure in place, making you dizzy as your orgasm reached its height and your hips bucked against his soft lips.

As you came down, your hand wrapped around Loki’s beautiful curls once again, snapping his head up to look at you. You surveyed his beautiful face, his chin dripping with your juices. His tongue licked his lips, and you pressed your mouth to him, your tongue circling his, tasting yourself.

Your hand moved down to his waist, moving him to your lap and pressing him against your chest. “Sweetie?” you grabbed his face, looking into his eyes and putting on the sweetest smile you could muster. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His eyes widened slightly, his cock pressing against you as he made little movements, needing to feel your touch. “Mommy,” he begged. “Please. I’ll do anything, just please touch me.”

Your firm hand gripped his cock tightly. “Like this? Is this what my sweet boy wants?”

He started nodding, his mouth opening slightly as his eyes dug into yours. “B-But I…”

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be inside you!” The words almost came out like one, and you gripped the edge of his collar, getting up from the throne and dragging him just beyond the throne room, upstairs to both of your chambers.

As you dragged him above, you glanced at his blushed face, loving the fact that you had total control of him, body and soul. He was yours, and there was no denying that. In that moment and all moments forward, he’d do anything you told him to do.

You both entered your rooms, clad in black and white marble, huge statues of jade and sapphire separating the bedchambers, living spaces, and kitchen. With a stroke of your hand, the candles and fires lit at once, illuminating his face as you pushed him against the stone wall and started teasing the head of his cock.

With a touch of your finger, the collar fell to the floor and before he could start pouting, you pressed your hand against his throat. He gave a smile completely fueled by pleasure, his form slacking against the wall as your hand moved to stroke him. “Tell me what you want again.”

“I want….. I want…. Inside of you,” he whimpered, writhing against your hand.

“And should I let you cum tonight?”

“Yes! Please!” His blush went deep red, his eyes snaking over your form, landing at your drenched pussy, moving his eyes just for a moment at your hardened nipples.

“Please what?” Your face was one of hardened stone, minutes away from bending him over and punishing him until he cried if he didn’t call you by your proper name in the next five seconds.

“Please my queen! Fuck me!”

You gripped his throat even harder, moving him over to the bed lined with silk sheets and white covers. You threw him onto it, flipping him over to appreciate his ass. You gripped it hard, giving it a little spank. You simply couldn’t help yourself, and you made a mental side note to fuck it later until he was whimpering under your weight.

You flipped him over once more, straddling his perfect thighs and placing his hands on your tits. “Squeeze my nipples, my little prince.”

Of course he did as he was told and his hands sent shocks through your body. You moved his knee up, slowly grinding your clit against it. You bit your lip, letting out a little moan as he continued to palm your breasts. “I love you, sweet boy. I love you so much.”

“I love you more tha-'' before he could get the words completely out, you softly pressed your lips to his, nothing like the desperate kiss only minutes before. This time, it was tender, it was soft, but it also contained all the words you wanted to say.

I love you.

I’d do anything for you.

I’d kill for you.

I’d die for you.

As you pulled away, you gripped his hard cock and slowly lowered yourself onto him, promoting a loud moan from his lips. “Does this feel good, baby?”

His head tilted back, grabbing your thighs tightly enough to leave marks. You’d let him. If anyone was to see, it would only be further proof you owned each other. And the bruises around his neck would be proof you especially owned him. He could conceal them with magic, but he wouldn’t. During council meetings and social gatherings, he’d press against them so he could feel what you did to him the previous night.

Before he could get his answer out, you slowly started riding him, almost teasing him. In response, he fingers teased your nipples, twisting and rubbing them slowly. You reached his full length, and realized you probably weren’t going to keep your calmness for much longer.

You leaned your body completely against his, wrapping your arms around him and riding him with abandon. “You’re a fucking goddess- you’re - you’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” he breathlessly remarked.

His length completely filled you up, and as always, was stretching you out. Sometimes you thought you couldn’t handle it, but eventually you regained your control and pressed your hands around him, enveloping him to completion. You bounced back and forth on his dick, crying out in unison with him, already on the brink. You were pulsing against his thickness, but you didn’t want to cum just yet, if only to tell him not to.

“Goddess, can I?” At this point, his words were just sounds and you didn’t know if you could reply without moaning your words out.

“Can you what?” you let out.

“Can I cum?  Please?” The last word was just a plea, and you knew he’d do anything just to cum, to release inside of you and have you dripping with his cum.

“Yes, that’s what you want. You want me to cum against your cock and make me leak with your cum. Tell me that’s what you want,” you growled.

“Yes! That’s what I want!” he started, thrusting with you as if he couldn’t handle it anymore. “I want you fill you up, I want my cum all over your thighs, I want-”

“Cum for me!”

At those words, you both cried out as you slammed his shoulders onto the bed, bouncing up and down and taking both your orgasm and his.

The orgasm you had previously was nothing compared to this. You were all filled up, cumming against his cock without abandon. You could feel him shooting inside of you, you could see his hands ripping at the bedsheets as he moaned in pleasure, which only built the orgasm, stars exploding in your eyes.

You both were breathless, panting against each other's bodies. For a minute, you couldn’t move, the pleasure finally ebbing from your body, but then Loki was flipped on top of you, stroking his dark curls and kissing his forehead.

You could feel how tired he was, how tired you made him, and you commanded the collar back to your hand, locking it against his throat. “Thank you,” he said, biting his lip and looking into your eyes.

“I love you, my sweet boy.”

“I love you more than words could possibly say.”

[violettelueur]

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || YOU AND ME. TOGETHER.

| featuring : fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and mention of death

| form : imagine

| word count : 2393

| published : 18 november

| request : Hi can I request where you come back from a particularly hard mission and Megumi finds you and tries to comfort you even though you try to hide it

| barista’s notes : lowkey, i feel like i went off on a little tangent on this one due to the amount of words i have written for this imagine ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ i think this is the most i’ve ever written for one tbh ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ overall, i hope you love you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request) and please order something again when the cafe reopens!

Walking through the entrance of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College after a long few months away made you extremely relieved that you were finally back home, away from any responsibilities that were waiting for you on the outside - probably only to set as a few missions for you later on during the weeks to come.

The atmosphere that surrounded you was nothing but tranquil, letting you begin to relax your body as you slowly began to lower your guard. Looking up towards the sky, you leisurely closed your eyes to let the soft sun rays hit your face, giving it a natural glow as you took in the nature that was gently letting you into its embrace welcoming you back to where you belong. To say that you missed Japan was an understatement, but rather you were desperate to get back.

However, the beautiful sounds of the chirping birds and the wind that was calming the world around you was suddenly interrupted once you heard some shouting from the other side of the school, causing the same birds to suddenly fly away in a panic from the loud sound that was emitted across the whole area.

Looking towards the direction of the sound, you just stood there shocked as you didn’t expect this type of event to occur so sudden, but you weren’t surprised that it had happened since this was your school you were talking about. Taking a deep breath, you forced your feet to move towards the direction of the sound, hoping to see anyone that you could confide in right now.

                                    ꕥ

After a few minutes, you had suddenly found yourself standing at the top of the stairs to which lead to the school track field, only to see the amusing site of Panda swing around a female student to which you assumed to be one of the new first years that Fushiguro was talking about to you on your last video call with him. 

“Oh Y/N over here!” someone shouted, causing you to turn to the right to see Maki waving at you with a smile on her face to which you then averted your eyes to see Fushiguro standing next to her with a wooden pole in hand.

Giving them a weak smile, you waved back at them before carefully making your way down the stairs to them, trying not to clumsily fall down in front of them as you didn’t want to worry both of them with your current state.

Just as you were about to say your greetings to them, you suddenly heard someone shouting from the middle of the field, causing you to turn towards whoever cut you off. “Fushiguro! Trade places with me! This uniform is a pain! I’m gonna go buy a cute tracksuit!” the female student shouted before she was lightly flung into the air only for her to suddenly drop to the ground in front of you. 

Looking down at the body in shock, you looked back up to see Panda walking towards you with the bright grin that could brighten up anyone’s day - well you wish it could for you right now - “Panda senpai, what are you two doing?” you asked in a confused tone, as you tilted your head to the side as if that was going to help answer your question.“These guys are weak in close combat,” Panda answered, causing you to come to the conclusion that he was trying to teach the student how to land on her feet. On the other hand, you didn’t realise Panda was looking down somewhere, causing you to follow his gaze to see that he was looking at the white bag you were holding.

‘How could I forget that I was holding it?’ you thought to yourself, coming to the fact that the mission you came back from must have affected you more than you thought.

“Did you bring gifts again Y/N?” Panda asked as he tried to get a little peak on the contents inside the paper bag, leaving you no choice but to take out his gift. 

During your time as a Jujutsu High student, you were known to go on a couple of foreign mission due to your talent in languages and that caused you to be one of the main jujutsu sorcerers to be chosen to be sent on some of these missions - so you always made sure to grab some souvenirs for your friends as they didn’t really have the chance to travel abroad as you did.

“Is this what you are trying to look for?” you playfully asked in the best way you could muster, as you lifted up a pair of knuckle bracers in front of panda’s eyes, leading them to have a little shine in them before he took them out of your grasp while thanking you for the gift. “And I assume the girl you threw on the ground was Kugisaki,” you stated, causing the girl to shoot up on her feet once she heard you state her name.

“You know who I am?” Kugisaki asked with widened eyes as she pointed at herself, causing you to lightly nod before going back into your bag to pull out a case of gold nails before handing it to her. “I heard that you used a straw doll technique, so I thought I would get these nails for you, these types are thinner but sturdier so if you infuse them with your curse energy they’ll accelerate at a faster rate than your original nails but also give a more deadly impact, they are also flammable but they won’t melt so they can act like mini fire arrows if you wish,” you explained to her as her eyes glowed in pure happiness before she crushed you into a hug, thanking you with tears in her eyes, causing both Fushiguro and Maki to walked towards you all as they wondered what was going on.

“Y/N how was the mission back in London?” Maki casually asked as she heard nothing from you for the past few weeks before you came back. However, for some reason that question caused you to stiffen up as you remembered all the unexpected events that had happened before you came back. Kugisaki noticed this change in posture causing her to unwrap her arms from your body and look at you with worried eyes.

“Y/N right? Are you okay? You got stiff for a second,” the oranged-haired sorcerer asked you, causing you to snap out of your sudden thoughts and nod at her with a small smile. “Yeah sorry, I guess I’m just a bit out of it lately, the mission was a little harder than expected but nothing too hard for me,” you commented, hoping that what you said was enough for them to not get suspicious.

Everyone, of course, believed you, once they saw a smile on your face they thought you were just tired from your flight - you did just get back from London after all. However, one person wasn’t buying your little act for even a second, causing him to come a bit closer to you and place his hand on your lower back as he saw you were gradually losing your balance, surprising you completely which caused you to turn to look at the green-eyed sorcerer.

“You okay Megumi?” you asked, wondering what was with the sudden physical contact, knowing he didn’t usually display his affection to you in public at all.

“Come on Y/N, your boyfriend hasn’t seen you in like months, he’s probably touched starved,” Maki slyly stated, causing Fushiguro to look at her with an annoyed expression while Kugisaki looked at both of you with widening eyes - shocked at the sudden news that was presented at her.

“YOU TWO ARE DATING!” Kugisaki shouted, causing you and Fushiguro to look at her before nodding like it was a casual thing. “How can that guy get a girlfriend before I can even get a boyfriend?” Kugisaki then asked herself, leading Fushiguro enough time to grab your hand and guide you somewhere away from the crowd.

Confused, you decided to just let Fushiguro guide you to wherever he wanted for the both of you to go, only to have him sit on the bottom stairs before patting the other side, indicating for you to sit next to him. Without hesitation, you sat next to him and placed the bag on the ground as you waited for your boyfriend to say what was on his mind.

“You okay?” he asked in a quiet tone as he side glanced at you, only to see you aimlessly stare at the grass below your feet. However, just like a robot, you automatically smiled and nodded at his question, “yeah I’m okay Mimi,”. However, once again Fushiguro wasn’t falling for your act as he got up and kneeled right in front of you.

Taking one of your hands, he enveloped yours with both of his making you wonder if you were the one that was really touch starved - as feeling his skin against yours caused you to realise how much you missed touching him making you take a mental note not to take his constant presence for granted - “did something happen during the mission?” Fushiguro then asked in a worried tone, as you didn’t seem as bright as you did when he last talked to you.

You looked tired. Extremely tired. Pale. Weakened. You just looked like you were completely the opposite compared to when you left for the mission.

“It’s just….” you started before closing your mouth, not knowing what to say next. You were used to the concept of death and losing comrades, so why did it affect you this much this time? Was it because you got to go home without worrying your friends? Was it because you left the families behind to weep for their deceased loved ones? Was it because you felt guilty for being the only one that survived? Was it because you felt responsible?

Slowly, you lifted your other hand and placed it over his ones that were still held on to the other. Yes, you were right, you were the one that was touched starved, there was no doubt about that at all. The feeling of his skin on the pads of your fingers made you feel alive even when you felt the opposite.

The mission was extremely harder than you had expected. The higher-ups back in London had given all the shamans the wrong information for the last task causing you and the other sorcerers to fall into something that was potentially your signed death warrant. Yet somehow you were the only one left standing after the whole ordeal with bodies surrounding you in massive numbers, even with the back up it still wasn’t enough. 

You felt guilty. Even though it wasn’t your fault. You felt like you were the guilty one. Even those you weren’t friends with many of them, they still had someone to go home to like you. If only you could have saved them. If only you could have reached them on time. If only you were aware of what was going on. Maybe. Maybe you could have…

Unexpectedly, you suddenly felt a loss of warmth from your hands, before you felt him using both of his hands to cradle your face using the pad of his thumbs to caress your cheeks, as he then gave you a light kiss on the forehead.

This little act of his caused you to desperately reach for his blue jacket and grip onto the material to try to release some of the emotions that have been building up. Gently, Fushiguro wiped the tears that fell down your face as they betrayed you when you didn’t even realise, causing you to bury your head into his chest to hide away from the world to which he then placed his arms around your body while patting your head to comfort you.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Fushiguro whispered to you, even though he didn’t know what made you become like this. Even since both of you became acquainted with each other, he quickly learnt that you took everything to blame and when both of you started dating, he realised how much you would truly blame yourself. You were mentally strong, he knew that you were able to control your state of mind like it was nothing. It was just the aftereffect of taking so much that worries him completely. And this was the result of this.

“All of them are dead Mimi, they…” you muttered causing him to hold you even tightly like a weighted blanket. “If the higher-ups didn’t give us the wrong details, they could have gone back home…..back to their families,” you continued as you tighten the grip of his jacket. “And here I am the only one that gets to come back to you guys…..I….I should have died with them”

Fushiguro’s eyes widened in horror on what you had just announced, he never thought you would say something that extreme. He couldn’t even reply to what you say, only having the ability to tighten his grip on you as if you weren’t already close enough. First Itadori, now you. Fushiguro understood why Gojo never really listened to any of the higher-ups, this is what they caused. Pain.

“None of this was any of your fault Y/N,” Fushiguro stated as he used the hand that was patting your head to now brush through your hair. “I know you tried your best, I know you did. You’ll get through this, you got me and everyone here around you,” Fushiguro continued as he tried to distract you from your dreadful thoughts. “We’ll get stronger together. You and me. Together” he stated before placing a kiss on the crown of your head like it was a spell that could cast away all the fearful thoughts that were swimming in your head.

And it somehow worked.

Releasing the grip on his jacket, you then wrapped your arms around his neck as you moved your head so that you could rest it upon his shoulder - still hiding your face away from everyone - pulling him closer (if you still could at this point).

“Yeah. You and me. Together Mimi”

[fandomficsnstuff]

Healer - Part 2

Ivar x Modern!Reader

(Warnings: I don’t think there are any warnings, but let me know if I’m wrong)

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You couldn’t stop running, not until you were forced to, a branch catching your foot, making you fall and scrape your knee on a sharp rock. You silently sobbed, not because of the pain but because you had no idea where you were, you were alone in a foreign place with foreign people, strange things were happening and it finally broke you. You pulled your knees to your chest as it began to rain, hugging them tightly against you as you sobbed, ignoring the blood that spilled from the cut on your knee, mixing with the rain that ran down your body and soaked you completely. You weren’t sure how long you sat on the forest ground, ignoring the cold rain, but you had stopped crying, blankly staring at the ground in silence as nothing but the sound of rain hitting the ground and surrounding forage filled your ears. You think you heard voices but you didn’t care, you felt alone and tired, you had no one, and the extremely sad part? You didn’t really think anyone back home would miss you. You didn’t have any family left, no real friends, not even at work or in the apartment you lived in, no one would miss you, no one would look for you. The thought caused another wave of fresh tear to form in your eyes, but before they had a chance to fall you heard footsteps, looking up you saw Ubbe and Hvitserk, looking down at you with sympathetic looks.

You let Hvitserk pick you up bridal style and carried you back to Kattegat, the whole way you were quiet, just staring at nothing in particular as they carried you inside the big hall, eyes on you as they placed you in front of the fire, Hvitserk attempted to give you his fur coat but you just brushed it off, staring at the flames with an empty look on your face. You knew they were just trying to help but you didn’t want their help, maybe it was selfish, but you just wanted to be alone. You felt a cough work it’s way up your throat, making you cough into the crook of your elbow as you continued to stare blankly at the flames in front of you. Ubbe next tried to get a fur coat over you but you rejected that as well “leave me alone…” you quietly asked, even though you knew they didn’t understand you. You pulled your knees to your chest again and curled up in a ball, watching the flames as tears silently rolled down your cheeks, your face void of emotion, even as some soup was placed in front of you, probably in an attempt to warm you up, but you were just fine with the flames licking your skin, it’s what should have happened so long ago, right? Why not now? Next Björn entered, whispering something to the others and you felt their eyes on you.

Björn approached and kneeled down in front of you, his eyes soft despite how cold his face seemed. “The seer told me” he said in broken english, making you look at him with a slight frown “he did not… talk much. But talk enough” he said, looking at you with slightly raised brows, as if asking if you could understand him. You gently nodded and Björn did so as well, glancing at the others before looking back at you with a softer expression “you eat, yes? Get strong, learn, speak like us. Then we speak, good?” he asked and for a second you didn’t answer, looking into the flames before hesitantly taking the soup and the spoon that was given to you, hesitantly eating what was served to you, taking tiny slurps from the soup, reluctant but obeying nonetheless. Björn nodded and got up, taking the fur coat you had refused to wear and put it over your shoulders gently, walking out of the hall and leaving you alone with the others.

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Months, it had been months since you had arrived here, and slowly everything was starting to seem more real. You had learnt most of their language by now, their customs, their ideas, it all made you think that these people were actually real life vikings, that you had actually somehow gone back in time. You were standing outside the same tent that made you run away in fear all those months ago, taking a deep breath, glancing nervously at Hvitserk who gave you a reassuring smile before walking away to join his brothers at the hunting cabin, prompting you to enter cautiously, as though the whole place was booby trapped. You couldn’t help but glare at the old man, the Seer, everyone called him, as he sat there, smirking as he heard you enter, or perhaps he knew you would enter long before even you did. “You’re back” he said in his raspy voice, knowing you had learnt their language by now, so he didn’t bother cutting your hand again, thankfully. “I’m just as surprised as you” you mumbled sarcastically, venom dripping from your every word but the man just cackled like last time, prompting you to roll your eyes “how do I get home?” you asked, not wanting to play any games, the man continued to cackle as though your question was the funniest thing he had heard in a long time “you are home, young healer” he cackled and you considered strangling him, but you took an oath to do no harm, so you took a deep breath and calmed yourself “I mean where I came from, I have a work there, an apartment, I have a life that I need to get back to” you tried to make him sympathise with you, a frown on your face as you watched his face fall, smile fade and laughter quiet until there was nothing but the wind outside.

“You think you are missed?” he asked and that caught you off guard, you bit your lower lip and gently shook your head, looking down sadly “I know I’m not… but I have responsibilities, I’m not meant to be here, some mistake has happened” you tried to reason with him but when you looked up he blew something in your face, making you cough as you shut your eyes tightly, coughing as you inhaled it and suddenly you felt your body hit the ground as you continued to cough, you couldn’t even get the words out to ask ‘what have you done to me?’ before you were out like a light, darkness enveloping around you, it felt odd, like you were floating.

You woke up with a gasp, laying on a sofa in the doctor’s lounge, your eyes scanning the room but it was empty, you heard people outside the room, walking by and chatting, a few pages going off here and there as you took your time to ground yourself, your feet carefully hitting the ground as you slowly stood up, cautious of your surroundings as you opened the door and walked out, almost bumping into someone but you moved at the last second. It was like the person didn’t see you, and when you turned to face another, snapping your fingers in front of her, you realised that they actually didn’t see you, a dark feeling settling in your stomach. You frowned and walked the hallways of the hospital, coming upon the same man you had treated, your last patient before you turned up wherever you were now, he was arguing with someone inside and when you walked in you saw none other than Clive, the same co-worker who was all too eager to claim all the credit for your work. You glared at him before listening in on their argument.

You sighed as you realised what Clive was telling Peter, the man who was your patient the day you vanished. He was spouting all this bullshit about how insurance wouldn’t cover his recovery, even though he was brought in on an emergency and you had checked his insurance yourself before he even went into surgery. You wanted to scream at Clive, you wanted to yell at him for being so rude, for lying to a patient and for being so heartless, you wanted to have his medical license taken away and you wanted him to act like the grown man he was supposed to be. But you couldn’t do anything but watch as Clive heartlessly talked to Peter, who couldn’t do anything but take it. You leaned against the wall and felt tears form in your eyes at the frustration you felt, maybe you were dead… maybe you were dead and in some twisted sense of irony you got back home but as a ghost or something, a spirit maybe. Whatever it was, you wanted out of here, you actually began to miss Kattegat, here you felt alone and lonely, you were surrounded by people, none of them saw you, heard you, even felt your presence as you walked through the hospital. You got to the top of the hospital, sitting down on the edge of the roof, eyes straight ahead as you didn’t dare look down, your back slumped as you considered if this was a terrible nightmare or real, either way, you couldn’t die, right? Forcing yourself to look down you saw the streets below, people going on about their day as if you had never even existed to begin with. Suddenly you felt someone beside you, turning your head and seeing the Seer, facing the tall building ahead of the two of you.

“Is it like this, now? No one cares?” you asked quietly and upon receiving no response you felt yourself tear up, all you ever wanted was to make a difference in the world. “You still can” the Seer rasped, making you sigh heavily “how? I-... You won’t even tell me who I’m supposedly here for” you pointed out and he once again chuckled, the sound like a cackling, as always “you will know, when the time is right, daughter of Frigga” he rasped and you rolled your eyes “you’re way too mysterious, you know that? And this ‘Frigga’ is not my mom-uh… mother, I mean…” you added, the Seer once again just cackling “for a woman who knows so much, you see so little. You will know all in due time, young healer, and in due time you will see all” he said and you rolled your eyes again “not helping” you mumbled and once again he cackled, the laughter echoing in your skull, not letting you escape it for a single second.

You woke up, panting and sweating heavily, your cheeks stained with tears that hadn’t stop running, you felt as though your lungs had no room to expand, you were panting and sobbing all together, looking around and seeing it was dark outside, a frown forming on your face, you knew it was at least noon when you went to go see the Seer. You threw off your fur blanket and walked out of your room, still panting for air until you stumbled into the great hall. You didn’t even notice Ivar there, watching the flames until you fell to the ground, clutching at your chest. Ivar crawled to you with a concerned frown “what is wrong?” he asked but you just shook your head, still feeling as if you had no room for air in your lungs yet you so desperately craved it, needed it. You curled up, despite your logical brain telling you that made it worse, but you were panicking, and luckily Ivar picked up on it, brows up in realisation and suddenly you felt one of his hands on your back and the other on your collarbone, forcing you to unfold and straighten your back, air finally being able to fill your lungs. You were still crying when you slumped against Ivar, not thinking straight as you buried your face in his chest. You expected him to push you away, at least not respond to your actions, but what you didn’t expect were hesitant arms wrapped around you, one of his hands gently stroking your hair in a soothing manner as you calmed down.

You stayed like that the whole night, telling Ivar the whole story, expecting him to tell you it was stupid, that you were foolish for believing the Seer or something like that, but you were met with silence, patient silence as he listened to your every word. “I’m scared, Ivar… I think I’m really scared of being alone, of never achieving anything, being forgotten, left behind and unable to help anyone or myself” you whispered and felt him tense at your words, you almost broke away from him when he once again eased into your touch “you are not alone. You have everyone here in Kattegat, you have Helga, I even think Floki likes you, you even have… me… so not to worry, many will remember you” Ivar soothed, letting you see a totally different side of him. Sure, in the months you had been here Ivar had been the one to teach you about their gods, while Ubbe and Hvitserk explained the language and helped you understand it. It had been four months since you arrived and you had grown closer to the youngest of the siblings. You enjoyed his sarcasme and sharp tongue, his wit and his determination, but most importantly, you enjoyed small moments, like this, where you saw what you considered to be the real Ivar.

Before long Ivar began to talk about meeting his father again, which you had apparently missed while passed out from whatever the Seer made you inhale, something Ivar told you he was very upset about, but you could see that he wasn’t. Apparently his father had disappeared years ago, only now popping up and asking people to sail with him, and Ivar had apparently said yes, to go to England with him. You couldn’t help but chuckle “bring back some of their tea, alright?” you joked, Ivar looking at you confused but dismissed it, he, along with everyone else you spent a lot of time with, had gotten used to your odd humour. The next day you watched Ivar proudly as he did his best to walk to the boat, almost helping him up when he fell until Aslaug stopped you and Ubbe, making you step back and watch as Ivar crawled to the boat and into it. You glared at Sigurd as he laughed at Ivar but brought your focus back to him once more, giving him a subtle wave as the boat began to set sail, he didn’t return it but you could see in his eyes that he wanted to.

[rezzyromance]

Hey, I already read some of your headcanons and loved your One-Shots of Heisy <3 May I request a Heisenberg X Reader One-Shot who is also German? Like they would be a tourist and stumble over the Village etc. Heisenberg will take care of her (which was chosen by Miranda). When arriving in his factory, he would notice their accent. How would his reaction be if he'd find out their native language is the same as the origin of his family? (F!Reader or GN!Reader pls!)

Ah this is so creative thank you!

You felt your head pound before you even opened your eyes. You could hear faint voices growing louder as your body and mind began to slowly wake up. "What the fuck happened?", you thought to yourself. You meant to go on a simple vacation to a secluded area in Romania. Life had gotten so stressful that you just decided to take a trip far away. The last thing you expected was to crash the car you were driving into a tree. Your thoughts began to gather from the haziness inside your head. It all seemed like a weird fucked up dream. You remember seeing something weird outside your car window which caused you to crash. It looked like... a werewolf.. or some other horrific beast. Then bam! It all went black and now here you are.

"She's an outsider! There is no telling how she got here mother, but she already has seen to much. If she were given to me, I'd make sure she'd stay quiet.", a powerful female voice rang. You slowly began to open your eyes. It was hard to open them past a squint due to the outrageous pain coming from your head. Your vision was blurry, but you could make out the silhouettes of a very tall lady in white, a strange hunched-over man, a black figure with a small white doll, a man sitting on a pew, and a woman in the center with a strange mask. "Oh come on! She's got to be of some use other than empty calories for you!", the man on the pew sasses. "How dare you! You stupid little manthing!", her voice boomed in the church. Were they.. fighting over you? It was impossible to put the pieces together. No one even noticed you were awake.

"SILENCE! BOTH OF YOU!", the woman in the middle demanded as wings spread from her back. "Heisenberg, you may take her. Just please adjust your attitude! I never want to hear you two fight over this again. Do you understand?" "Yes mother.", they both responded in an aggravated tone. You still haven't moved, but you begin to open your eyes more. The man on the pew became clearer. He was wearing a coat and a hat. Sunglasses covered his eyes and he had a large metallic hammer propped beside him. "This meeting is dismissed.", the woman says before vanishing into nothing but black feathers. You couldn't tell if you were dreaming or possibly died and went to hell, but you were far too scared to scream.

"Ah. Seems like my prize is awake.", the man makes his way over to you and kneels down to face you. You just then noticed that your wrists were cuffed and you had been laying on the ground the whole time. "How are you feeling?", he cocks his head. You're unable to form words as you're too overwhelmed by everything. "Well... I don't hear any bitching so I'll assume you feel fine. Can you stand?", he asks. You wiggle your legs, shocked at how they suddenly feel heavy. They're still asleep from whatever happened after you hit the tree. He helps lift you off the ground and to your feet, but your legs shake beneath you. You begin to fall, but he catches you. "Looks like you still need some rest.", he picks you up bridal style. Your head was still hurting, so you close your eyes.

"This is just a bad dream. This is just a bad dream. This is just a bad dream.", you repeated to yourself in your head.

"Home sweet home.", he says. You open your eyes and realize you had drifted off to sleep and had woken up again, confirming this wasn't a dream. You were still in his arms as you looked around, taking in the scenery. It looked like a factory. "You've got some blood on you still. That was a pretty bad crash. Luckily, you don't have any broken bones. But if you keep actin like this, I might have to assume you got some brain damage.", he laughs a little at his own words. He carries you to what looks like some type of workshop room. There, he sits you down in a chair and begins to rummage for some supplies to help your wounds.

You finally gain the guts to speak up. ".. can you please get rid of these cuffs on my wrists?" He jumps slightly at your unexpected voice and unexpected accent. It was an accent he recognized, but hadn't heard in so long. "Sure thing.", he flicks his wrist towards you and the cuffs break and fall off your wrists. You look down, shocked, as you roll your wrists around and stare at them.

"How did you do that?!" He approaches you slowly with his supplies, and he dampens a rag with rubbing alcohol. He squints his eyes at you for a moment as if he's thinking hard about something. "Don't worry about it.", he crouches down and begins to rub your head with the rag. The rubbing alcohol stings and you wince at the pain. "Sit still..", he continues to wipe at your forehead which you now realize must have a cut on it. "I'm sorry.", you say quietly, afraid of disrupting the man.

"Where did you come from? How did you get here?", he begins to question you. He stops rubbing your face and steps back to stare into your eyes. His were intimidating and demanding. You speak up. "I am.. from Germany. I came here for a vacation and.. I think I got into an accident.", you say. "Germany, huh.", he seems to daze off slightly when he says this. "I figured. I can hear it in your voice." Why is he so interested by this?

"You're name is.. Heisenberg? Correct?", your words snap him back to the present. "Yes. Karl Heisenberg. And you are?", he becomes engaged in the conversation once more. "I'm (Y/N). Karl Heisenberg.... that is a very German sounding name.", you try to make conversation. "Well, my family was German. It's just been so long... I nearly forgot what it sounded like..", he gets up and walks back to the box in which held first aid supplies. "Your family.. who are they?", you ask, confused from his lack of context. The mentioning of his family causes him to freeze in place.

"It's.... been a long time. Don't worry about it.", he finds a bandaid and walks over to you. He puts the bandaid on your forehead to cover your cut. "It's just nice to hear it again." There was a bitter sweetness to his words. The room goes silent after that, but there's a new tenseness in the air.

"What's... happening? Where am I?", you ask. It's almost comical how long it took you to ask. "Well.... to put it short.. you got into your little accident and this is probably the worst place it could've happened. You were found by Mother Miranda before the lycans were able to get to you. The fact that you're here already means you know too much, so the only options where either to have you killed or be put to use by one of the Lords. Donna never participates in these types of things and Moreau is to idiotic to speak up. Your life was either gonna be in my hands or the hands of that supersized bitch. I know what she does to girls like you and I didn't want that to happen so now you're here."

You have no clue how to respond. Mother Miranda? Lycans? What does it all mean? "I know it's a lot to take in. But, I have a plan to get out of here one day. Once you start feeling better, maybe you can help me. I like you. I like the way you talk." He probably means your accent since he seems so focused on it. "The way I talk...", you cock your head and look into his eyes, trying to get a reaction. He breaks the eyecontact and looks at the ground. "My mother and father always wanted to keep the culture and language alive through the family. I didn't get to learn too much as a kid, but I remember the accent. It's... really nice." He becomes overwhelmed with his own emotions. He didn't want to admit you or himself that something as silly as a strangers voice was so comforting to him. He keeps his composure and walks back to where the first aid box is to pack it up once more.

"Your family is gone?", you almost regret saying it the moment it left your lips. Was it too personal? You tense up as he stays silent for a little too long. "Yes." Once he's done, he turns to look at you. "How do you feel? Can you stand up now?", he changes the subject. You wiggle your legs a little to prepare. The feeling had come back to them, so you stand up. You lift each leg to check for any abnormalities, but they feel fine other than a bit of soreness. The rest of your body was the same. You ached all over but it wasn't excruciating.

"Well, looks like you'll be fine. That gash on your forehead is probably the worst of your injuries, but I don't think it needs stitches." "Thank you for helping me. Is there anything I can do to return the favor?, your words catch him off guard. "Just don't get in my way and we'll both be fine.", he tries to put on some type of stubborn act to cover up how weirdly flustered your words made him. "I can teach you some German if you'd like. You said you never got to learn much so maybe I can help you." He chuckles a little. The corners of his lips slowly rise into a small smile. "Maybe so."

[honeypirate]

Can you do Benimaru x reader ?Hmm, the reader is training with him then she gets injured,and after taking care of her,he confessed to her ? sorry if this is too much,your writing is amazing ✨

OMG I loved this!! Thank you for sending it in!

I hope you like this!

Benimaru x fem!reader

(In this fic, if a third gen grows stronger it changes the eyes.(In the show the fifth pillar had her eyes changed when she got her ignition abilities, but I wanted to twist it) Other than that I have little idea of how the eyes change)

Little editing

Little swearing

Little drinking but reader is same age as Waka

In this moment you regretted asking your friend for training.

You had trained with him every day for the past four days, he was to help you strengthen your abilities so you could become a better third generation before sending you back to your company, the eighth.

What he was doing was annoying you and pissing you off. You would have hated him if he acted like this the whole time, outside of training he was sweet and funny, but damn, he could be tough. Sure you like it but it was almost the end of your training for the day, couldn't he see you were nearing your limit? Maybe you’re holding it together better than you thought.

Which was confirmed when the next words left his mouth “I know you can do better. I saw you do better yesterday in fact” his voice sent anger throughout your veins, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for just a second, grounding yourself so you don't lash out at the annoying, ridiculous, strange, interesting handsome, sexy.... You grit your teeth and your eyes fly open, cutting off your thoughts as you tried to use your flames again. Come on, you think, i can push myself, just a little more

He was about to speak but you heard his mouth shut as you moved your arms out in front of you, feeling the flame in your veins travel down the inside of your arm and around your wrist, flowing down each finger to the tip before swirling down and pooling in your palms. You tighten the circle of bright warmth, growing smaller and smaller, until you begin to make your own version of a sun wheel. You twist your hands, the fire staying in the air as you make a circle, when you connect the ends together it erupts into tiny explosions of stars that twist around each other.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed with this display. He watched as you sent your attack forward, the strongest he’s witnessed from you. “Now do it again” he says and you turn to speak your mind but he takes one look at your face and hops down from the porch and quickly comes toward you, causing you to take a step back and tense your stance

“your eyes have changed. You are getting stronger” you can't look away from his eyes even if you wanted to, the anger you had felt for him had dissipated with his proximity. “What do you mean? What do they look like?” he points to your left “that one, is like mine, an X, except green. Your other is green with a pink heart” you hum softly, your cheeks flushing under his intense gaze, he leans down and your breath hitches, until he whispers “now do it again”

you feel your annoyance and your anger boil in your veins again as you huff, turning towards the training ground. You gather all your annoyance and anger, the last energy you had, sending it all to your palms as you feel the familiar swirl of flame and as you make your circle. Your hands shake, your breathing hard pants as the oxygen doesn’t come. You feel your flames sputter and when your circle connects the ends,, the stars that erupt fly back at your fingertips making you scream out as the flame turns to smoke.

You cradle your hands to your chest as he appears next to you “let me see” he commands, his voice strained with worry. You slowly hold out your hands, the tips of your fingers smoking and the skin singed in a few places on almost every finger. “Come with me” he says through his teeth and you can’t tell if he is mad at you. You nod and follow him into the guard house, your fingers leaving smoke behind you with every step, chewing your lip in worry.

He takes you into the medical room and gestures for you to kneel with him. He holds out his hand and you sigh as you hold them out in front of you, the sunlight through the window hitting them and illuminating the several black dots that are still smoking.

He doesn’t say anything while he cleans up your hands, his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry” you whisper “I messed up” he shakes his head to the side once but doesn’t speak until he’s done bandaging your hands. The only sound being your hiss of breath every time his gentle fingers brush a healing ointment over your wounds or the touch of bandages.

“You’ll be okay, just overheated and you should heal up fine.” His voice is gruff and he won’t look you in the eye “I'm so sorry. I pushed you too hard. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I should have known. I should have seen the signs. I can’t believe I made you hurt your beautiful hands. I’m so sorry” his voice cracks in the last word and you reach out, but he stands quickly and leaves you in the middle of the room.

A few hours later you try to catch his eye during dinner but he avoids you, talking to Konro beside him and not even facing your direction. You give up trying to talk to him and fill your glass with wine, downing it and then grabbing the bottle and leaving the table quietly. Your heart is too sad to even stay there, trying to talk to the man you had started to get feelings for but having him avoid you was terrible, it felt like it was your heart he was cutting up on his plate.

“What are you doing Waka?” Konro asks with a sigh, watching you leave the room with the bottle clutched to your chest, your hands not touching it all. “What do you mean?” he asks and takes a bite, hoping the food will sate some of the acid currently burning his stomach. “I mean, you’re avoiding her, and she's been trying to get you to look at her all evening. What did you do and why are you avoiding her?”

Benimaru sighs, looking around the nearly empty room before turning towards Konro “I pushed her too hard. She hurt herself. It was my fault and I can't seem to bear looking at her knowing I am the one who hurt her” Konro furrows his eyebrows “have you asked her how she feels? Have you talked to her at all? ” Benimaru looks at his hands “I uh..“ Konro nods “Waka, stop acting like a child. She’s a grown woman, treat her like one.” his eyes widen before he stands and leaves the table. Konro was right, he was acting like a child, he needed to treat you like the strong woman he knows you are, and be the man he is and talk to you.

You find your way back to the medical room, grabbing some more bandages and then making your way up to the roof. You sigh as you sit at the edge of the roof, dangling your feet over the edge. You unwrap your hands, the semi-dirty bandages unraveling from your fingers, and wince when the cool air touches your burns. Pulling out the roll of gauze you start to redress your fingers, but they shake too much to do it properly.

“Damn” you whisper as the gauze falls from your fingers for the upteenth time, this time falling from the roof all together. Your fingers just didn't want to cooperate with you, so you sighed again, the heaviness in your heart growing as you turn your attention to the sky, the moon full and bright; unlike your heart.

“You dropped something” you laugh in jest “I've dropped a lot of things recently Waka, the ball, my goddamn heart, that one wasn’t on purpose though. Kinda blindsided me actually” you ramble, taking a drink from the bottle as he sits next to you, your hand throbbing against the cool glass.

He takes the bottle from you and takes a drink before setting it farther behind him so it wont roll off the roof. He holds his hand out towards you and you sigh before shoving your wrist against his palm, your fingers shaking as you avoid his eye contact.

“I meant the gauze” he says and you chuckle dryly, a embarrassed about your outburst as you mutter “oops.” His hands shake slightly as he wraps your fingers, but they were as gentle as they were before. The cover of the bandages feels better against your burns, no exposed sensitive skin. He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your palm that sobers you up (you had like 2 glasses so you wouldn't even be drunk or even too buzzed by now, a long time has gone by and you ate a big dinner) he places your hand down against his thigh and holds out his hand for your other, which you place much gentler against his palm this time.

When he finishes he places another soft kiss to your fingers and you move your hand up to his cheek tilting his face up so he looks you in the eye “Benimaru. I don’t blame you. Sure you did push me, but I was too angry, I should have realized I went too far already. You know I like a little tough love to push me so I get stronger” You watch the corners of his mouth twitch into an almost smile as his eyes flick between both of yours

“Thank you,” you whispered, your hand still resting against his cheek, your bandages tickling his skin “thank you for patching me up. For taking care of me still.” you close your eyes and lean your head against his shoulder “Please don't avoid me anymore” your voice was sad and it made his heart crack. He stares into the sky for a few seconds, putting his thoughts in order, before he reaches out, one hand around your waist and the other on the back of your head as he pulls you up into his embrace and moves you both a little farther from the edge of the roof.

“Don’t go back to the eighth. Stay in the seventh.” he whispers, “I want you to stay” his cheek was against the top of your head as he held you gently to his chest,. “What.. like just as a subordinate who works with you?” He chuckles and it shakes you gently, “no, not just a subordinate.I dont usually hold my subordinates like this and I don't gain feelings for them. You have never been a subordinate to me. You’re intriguing to me. Captivating.” your heart beats races, your cheeks feeling warm as your spine tingles excitedly.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you. Konro talked some sense into me. I need you to know that I really adore you. I don’t want you to leave. I have been dreading the end of this week” you pull back and kiss his cheek softly before you part from his embrace so you could look in his eyes “I’ve been dreading leaving you.” your voice was as quiet as his, the only one listening was the moon and stars above, “You’re strong, you have a good heart, and when you’re not pushing me with training,” you smile when he chuckles “you make me laugh, and you make me happy” your cheeks are flushed from your expressions of feelings and from his soft gaze. “Can I stay with you?”

He leans forward, kissing the blush on both of your cheeks. “Please” he says, his voice sending tingles down your spine before his lips connect with yours for the first time. Your eyes flutter closed as his soft lips touch yours, stars bursting behind your eyelids as your hands rest against his neck. When he pulls back the cool air sends a shiver down your spine and he smiles “we should go inside, it’s getting late and cold.” He runs his fingers softly through your hair “Plus we should talk to Obi tomorrow since you’re going to stay”

[riddlecrux]

Miserable together, happy apart: a dive into Elain and Lucien's relationship

This meta is based solely on textual pieces of evidence that can be found through the whole ACTOAR series written by SJM. My observations come from the text and what was given to us, the audience, by the author of the book. Due to the fact that this topic is connected with a raging shipping war, I would like to make an important note at the beginning of this (probably) long comparison post. This meta will be touching subjects such as trauma, forced and unhealthy relationships, being uncomfortable around the other person, and enforced feeling of duty. On that note, it's anti Elain and Lucien relationship.

The starting point of the whole relationship and mating bond begins in ACOMAF, when Lucien contributes to Archeron sisters being kidnapped - leading to them being Made. I'm very concerned with the way how this fandom seems to collectively forget about the trauma that Elain went through when she was pushed inside the Cauldron. After ACOSF we are left with the idea that being Made wasn't pleasant - on the contrary, it was horrible and scary, it left Nesta with psychological scars and mental barriers. So why are people forgetting that, in fact, it was Elain who undergone the same terrifying experience first? SJM had described this whole situation very vividly and painfully detailed. It was there to show us that both Elain and Nesta went through something disturbing and traumatizing. That's why I would like to start with a notion of TRAUMA:

"Elain’s foot hit the water, and she screamed—screamed in terror that hit me so deep I began sobbing."

Feyre is there to witness her sisters being shoved into Cauldron and one can only imagine how terrifying it was to observe such a thing. However, there is no amount of words to describe how utterly frightening it was for Elain to be pushed into the unknown. She was the first one, an experiment for everyone to see.

"More water than seemed possible dumped out in a cascade. Black, smoke-coated water. And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown. Her legs were so pale—so delicate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them bare."

Elain was a proper lady. She was the one who went along with the prevailing etiquette and rules. Feyre notices Elain's bare skin and how she doesn't even remember when was the last time she saw so much of it in the broad daylight. Elain was modest, she followed the social obligations and we as readers are presented with the fact that all her principles are being violated in front of these strangers and people she knew from before.

"Elain was still shivering on the wet stones, her nightgown shoved up to her thighs, her small breasts fully visible beneath the soaked fabric. Guards snickered."

She was let out in the open after such a traumatizing event. Just after being Made, the first thing she experiences is another form of trauma. She is involuntary stripped bare in front of males, her proper upbringing and modesty ruined as they openly laugh at her nakedness. It's another traumatic event, not even a moment after her whole human life was taken away from her.

"As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain. She cringed away from the coat, from him—"

It's not surprising that she acted that way. He is yet another male who appears out of nowhere, comes at her when she is in a very vulnerable position. Not to mention, that he is connected to the fact that she and Nesta were kidnapped and used as hostages. He plays a role in her trauma, a trauma that is still happening around her. Elain is subjected to watch her older sister going through the same thing she went through.

"Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.”"

I would say that it wasn't a good thing to say at that moment. It's yet another brick in the wall of traumas that Elain just went through. She lost her human life, she was Made, she lost her human fiance, was kidnapped and used as an experiment, ridiculed due to her nakedness and vulnerability, watched her sister being shoved into the Cauldron. Now she is presented with the fact that she was stripped off of her free will, and she still doesn't have freedom of choice. The lack of choice is evident, she just doesn't let it fall upon her as the trauma she had just endured was too great to even imagine how that declaration could shake her already broken heart.

“From my sister’s stories. Her friend.” “Yes.” But Elain blinked slowly. “You were in Hybern.” “Yes.” It was all he could say. “You betrayed us.”

Elain is aware of the fact that he was a part of her trauma. He was there when she got kidnapped and watched her being Made. She acknowledges the fact that he is partially responsible for what has happened to her and her sister. Not only Elain but Lucien as well. Lucien is also very much aware of the fact that he had contributed to her pain and hardship. Those feelings are also very prominent in the way he approaches her and behaves around her. The knowledge that she is that way because of his mistake.

FORCED RELATIONSHIP:

Both Elain and Lucien find themselves forced to "be" together. It wasn't a natural thing that happened between them, not a healthy type of bond snapping in its place. They were put together because of the Cauldron's decision.

She was nothing like Jesminda. Jesminda had been all laughter and mischief, too wild and free to be contained by the country life that she’d been born into. She had teased him, taunted him—seduced him so thoroughly that he hadn’t wanted anything but her. She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.

Even Lucien, who had loved and lost his previous lover acknowledges the fact that it is something that both of them didn't want. Their bond essentially stripped both of them of their free will. They hadn't chosen each other, they were just put together in a fickle decision of The Cauldron. His previous love story signalizes that Lucien also wants to be chosen, wants to be loved by someone who decided that he is the man that the other person wants to love and spend their life with him.

“I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.” And a whole lot of nothing.

Lucien has also his own issues - family feud, the fact that his friend betrayed him and in the end, it was him who did the same. He has troubles on his mind that are concerning. He's self-conscious in front of Elain because as Lucien is a reminder of her trauma - she is a reminder of his biggest mistake and another painful ending on his part. She's a living proof of his betrayal, how he went against his common sense and stabbed his friend, Feyre, in the back by bringing her sister into the scene.

The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.” She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride. A mortal man’s wife. Or she would have been.

He is aware of the fact that Elain doesn't feel anything for him, that she was promised to another and she had planned her life with that person. Just like him in the past - it was his choice to love, want, and need Jesminda. As he's trying to keep his composure the feelings of the bond swirl around, yet Lucien still understands that both of them ended up with something they didn't want.

“When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Even though they were "blessed" with this bond, the thread of it is weak and very unlike the other ones in SJM universe. As if it wasn't working properly - they both do not complete each other. Few pages before Elain says that she can hear Feyre's and Nesta's heartbeat and yet her mate can't hear hers? How is that possible? Also Lucien doesn't understand Elain - he sees her as someone who is devastated by her ruined human life, which is true, but right we as readers know by now that Elain was suffering because nobody seemed to realize what was wrong with her. Their first meeting doesn't spark hope for their future. It only showcases how wrong they both are for each other, two wounds plastered against each other.

BEING UNCOMFORTABLE AROUND EACH OTHER: Sadly both Elain and Lucien are pushed together by Feyre and her little meddling - which isn't something that they both want to undergo.

It was the most uncomfortable thirty minutes I could recall. (...) Pretending, while Lucien and Elain sat in stilted silence by the dim fireplace, an untouched tea service between them.

Even Feyre admits that a previously arranged get-together was a mistake. Because Lucien and Elain are wary of their presence around each other, they constantly remind each other's traumas and painful memories. Elain can barely stand his presence and Lucien is aware of that fact - the only thing that keeps him trying to break that barrier is their bond.

She rose to her feet, and Lucien shot to his. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “What—what was that?” Mor put a hand on my knee to keep me from rising, too. “It—it was a tug. On the bond.”

Even their mating bond isn't a thing of comfort. They can't navigate through it, both of them uncomfortable because of their proximity. Lucien feels as if he has to repay his debt towards Elain, however, neither of them wants to close the distance. Their wounds are still fresh, both of them not entirely healed. They are constantly rubbing their hurt on each other, meeting after meeting.

“Nothing,” he said, and again faced his mate. “I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.” Elain sidled toward Nesta, who seemed to be at a near-simmer. “It felt … strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.” Lucien exposed his palms to her. “I’m sorry“.

He feels guilty all the time he's around her. He can't navigate through the mating bond as it doesn't work properly. It's uncomfortable, hurtful, and tense. Just like the relationship between them, it is not a good thing. They are basically strangers thrown at each other after seeing the other person at their lowest. It's not a coincidence that the bond between them is a mirror to their rough, strained relation.

Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?”

Lucien just stared and stared at my sister, as if he’d never seen her before.

Even with the bond, Lucien can't understand what Elain needs. They are basically strangers, yet the bond doesn't do anything to him in regards to helping her. They are constantly uncomfortable around each other, they try to avoid each other throughout the series because of the fact that they both don't want to be in this forced relationship. Lucien feels obliged to keep persuading her due to the bond, whereas Elain wants nothing to do with the said bond. They are in a maze of constant avoidance and unbearable proximity, which is very soundly described in the text and I would like to present some very important passages:

He hadn’t mentioned Elain, or his proximity to her. Elain had not asked him to stay or to go. And whether she cared about the bruises on his face, she certainly hadn’t let on.

Elain, at least, would be too polite to send Lucien away when he wanted to help. She was too polite to send him away on a normal day. She just ignored him or barely spoke to him until he got the hint and left. As far as I knew, he hadn’t come within touching distance since the aftermath of that final battle.

No, as Elain took a step back, hand falling away from the doorknob, she revealed Lucien smiling tightly at us both. “Happy Solstice,” was all he said.

A sidelong glance toward Elain, swift and fleeting. “Both of you.” Elain said nothing, but at least she bowed her head in thanks.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.

My sister rose to her feet. “I should get refreshments.” Lucien rose as well. “No need to trouble yourself. I’m—” But she was already out of the room.

I would love to bring attention to the fact that Lucien understands and realizes that their relationships will never work. He acknowledges it in the text, with his own words!

"Give her time to accept it.” “To accept a life shackled to me?”

“Spend time with her.” “I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.” His jaw worked as he studied the fire.

He shook off my grip and headed for the door. “I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes."

ELAIN'S AGENCY: Throughout ACOWAR, ACOFAS and ACOSF Elain tries to get away from the bond and in conclusion also from Lucien himself. She doesn't acknowledge their bond and time after time she runs away from the fact that they are bound to each other. The thing is, Elain, probably doesn't know how to break their bond - we as readers are reminded in Azriel's POV how important their mating bond is for the Night Court, which makes her a sort of political pawn. It is yet another thing that is taken away from her, which to be honest is a kind of a hypocritical thing coming from Rhys and Feyre. We know that Elain is timid, however after slowly recovering from her trauma she started to voice out her discomfort connected to Lucien and their forced relationship.

I knew I wasn’t truly angry with her, not angry with anyone but myself, but I said, “You couldn’t say a single word to him? A pleasant greeting?” Elain only stared at the steaming kettle as she set it on the stone counter. “He brought you a present.” Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

Lucien still makes her uncomfortable, he is a constant reminder of her trauma and lost life. Another thing is that Lucien doesn't even know her, doesn't see her which is something that is very important to her. Everything he does is based on the fact that he is connected to her via mating bond, not by his own free choice. Which, again, is presented to us in her own words in the text:

“No.” I blinked. “But he is a good male.” Despite our harsh words. Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit. “He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.” “You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.” Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.”

It doesn't help that the one who pushes her forward into this spiral of unbearable proximity with someone she hadn't chosen and don't want to be around, is her own sister. Yet, she stands her ground and sets boundaries. She is her own person and she wants to get to chose. ELAIN AROUND LUCIEN:

I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment.

I found my sister in the kitchen, watching the kettle scream. “He’s not staying for tea,” I said.

I said to Lucien when we’d settled in the armchairs before the fire, Elain perched silently on the couch nearby.

I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment.

I found my sister in the kitchen, watching the kettle scream. “He’s not staying for tea,” I said.

I said to Lucien when we’d settled in the armchairs before the fire, Elain perched silently on the couch nearby.

Elain had picked up the teacup, and now sipped from it without so much as looking toward him.

Elain only stared at him for a long moment. And any lucidity faded away as she shook her head, blinking twice (...).

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap.

Elain now watched Lucien warily. Blinking every now and then.

He only glanced at Elain, whose face was again a calm void while she traced a finger over the embroidery on the couch cushions.

Their gazes locked and held. But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward.

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

As you can see Elain feels: - uncomfortable - on edge - withdrawn - wary - closed off - silenced (she always loses the will to speak around Lucien, going deeper inside of her) - melancholic (she watches as kettle boil without flinching as if she wandered in the maze of her mind). Elain loses her comfort and courage around Lucien, which is problematic and utterly sad to witness. He is a constant reminder for her of violation against her own free will, but also a living proof of her own trauma. LUCIEN AROUND ELAIN:

Lucien surveyed it all with cool indifference. What he felt about Elain, what he planned to do … I didn’t want to ask.

“I would never hurt her.” A bleak sort of honesty in his words.

He tried to sound casual—comfortable. Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet.

He didn’t expect her to answer, and he gave himself all of one more minute before he’d rise from this chair and leave.

Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once.

He wished she’d shoved him out the window behind her.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth.

“I think she went through something terrible,” Lucien countered carefully. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination.”

Lucien looked to her, then over to me. A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Nothing,” he said, and again faced his mate. “I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.”

Lucien exposed his palms to her. “I’m sorry.”

Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?”

Lucien silently slid into one of the chairs, before the window, that metal eye whirring as it roved over my sister.

Lucien just stared and stared at my sister, as if he’d never seen her before.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye —the longing and sadness.

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.

Lucien feels: - uncomfortable - guilty - uneasy - confused (especially in the moments where Elain is having visions and he doesn't understand what's happening with her) - apologetic (he is constantly saying sorry to her) - tense

The guilt eats him every time he is around Elain, he is constantly apologizing while battling his inner problems such as remembering his true love. He was stripped off of his choice and even if the mating bond is there, he isn't happy. He is in constant pain just like Elain because both of them are each other wounds, each other reminder of trauma. They can't heal together because they are only happy when they are apart - Elain blooms in the Night Court, as we have read in ACOSF she is coming up with terms of Fae life and her own powers, adjusting her life to the notion of immortality. She is content and courageous and yet everything vanishes when Lucien is around. The same thing goes for Lucien. Lucien was struggling with her around him - he didn't know her, he didn't know what was happening to her as well. They were both strangers thrown at each other without their own say in this whole situation. Not to mention that their meetings were always arranged and supervised by others. When he sets on the journey to find Vassa he finds freedom and belonging - which was something he was battling in ACOWAR, after betraying his friends and his court, after being at odds in Night Court, and after being uncomfortable around his mate. He didn't have that sense of belonging in any of those things.

Elain and Lucien aren't compatible nor perfect for each other. They are constant reminders of traumas they experienced. They will never work out because they make each other miserable while being together, and they feel free and content apart. Their happiness lies with free choice, free will both of them were looking for in their lives. They are bound together against their own, and the only key for them being happy in this farce is setting themselves free. A choice of freedom. I strongly believe that after their rejection of the bond both of them could, perhaps, form a friendship. It would have been some sort of catharsis - to dwell upon the fact that they overcame that obstacle. That they chose to be happy apart, and not be shackled by this miserable bond.

[illyaana]

Hey... Could you maybe... Could you make a oneshot consisting of Bakugou's older sibling reader (I'd prefer it to be gender neutral with a more masculine style, however you prefer) x Midnight? 🥺🥺 I love her so much and Horikoshi did her dirty. You can do whatever oneshot that you want/comes to mind, I just want something fluffy. Thank you UwU

Udk how much I squealed getting this as my first ask!

(also whoever you are you made my day/week/month (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ)

I agree, Horikoshi did her dirty. She had some moments but that was IT. I tried my best, hope you like it!!

(it's more of a you being a hero and being in a relationship with Nemuri rather than a one-shot surrounding your relationship, but there's a bunch of fluffy stuff at the end, so gehe-)

Tags: Midnight x Bakugo's Older Sibling! Reader, Binaural, Fluff, Minor Cursing, Mentions of Blood

Your Quirk: Liquid Maker - You conjure a liquid in your hands (smtg like sweat) when you want to and it can become anything. Name it, you got it hun <3

Synopsis: You are a hero (obviously gehe-) and you were catching some villains. Suddenly a huge explosion came from the middle of Musutafu and you headed straight to the crime scene.

Word Count: 2163

SFW Masterlist ◍ Navigation ◍ Requesting Guidelines ◍ Ask here!

You woke up to the sweet smell of smoke coming from the living room. Groaning, you got off your comfortable bed and raced to the living room to stop Bakugo from his daily antics.

"You really got to stop doing this in the morning, Katsuki," you told the younger male, "It's literally," you looked at the clock, "8 am in the morning and my half-asleep self could've gotten hurt stopping you from breaking all hell loose."

Katsuki scoffed while looking at you. "Why aren't you at work yet? As you said, it's already 8 am."

"Later shift today! I only start at around 10 am."

"Wow, aren't you lucky?" Katsuki said as he walked towards the stove, "I'm making pancakes, but I won't make even one for you until you go bathe. You look disgusting."

"Okay, okay." You say, raising your hands and rushing to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

After bathing, you head back into your room and began to wear your skin-tight hero suit.

You groaned slightly as you slowly pulled the form-fitting clothing up your body.

"I swear to God this isn't getting easier."

"You are literally a fatass, so I'm not surprised," you heard Katsuki scream from the kitchen, "I pity Midnight. The fact she needs to be around a literal piece of garbage who doesn't even look good."

"At least I have someone, unlike your childish ass."

"I am a child," he retorted.

You sigh as you open your room door and head back to the kitchen.

"One day, you're going to wish you were nicer to the people around you."

"Maybe," Katsuki said while passing you a plate with a stack of three pancakes, "...but I am pretty sure you aren't going to be one of them, judging by how much you baby me."

"But you are a child! Didn't you say so a few minutes ago?" you say as you pinch his cheeks, earning a growl from him, "Woah, calm down dog."

"Shut up and eat, fatass."

You chuckle at his words and proceed with the order given by your younger brother.

You loved getting later shifts on Fridays. These were the quieter days in the Bakugo household. Mom usually took her extra days off on Fridays like today, extending her weekend. Dad left for work earlier on Fridays but he'd always buy some spicy thing for Katsuki and you to have in the morning. Something to wish us a good day, I presume. And to top it all off, you and Katsuki would have these "sibling" moments, which mostly consisted of you annoying him to the point he'd lash out at you.

"You're a really good cook, Katsuki. These pancakes keep getting better!" you compliment the 10-year old.

And there it was: you entertainment of the day - Katsuki trying to say thank you but failing miserably thanks to his own pride as a "man".

"T-than- that's obvious, isn't it?" he ends, a blush present on his face, "I make pancakes every single time you have a later shift because you like it. If I'm getting better, that means you've been getting more later shifts. That means you've been slacking off, you stupid Pro Hero!"

"...how did you even get to that idea?"

After calming down a raging Katsuki, you put on your gear and head to the entrance of the house.

"Have a good day at school, Katsuki. Don't do anything you'd regret," you playfully warn him before leaving the house.

The streets of Musutafu were usually peaceful. Ever since All Might became the Symbol of Peace, the crime rates have dropped extensively. Yet, there are always one or two little naughty kids that wanted to play with their quirks - or in simpler terms, people who act like kids and try to do minor crimes using their quirks.

Using the liquid formed in your hands, you aimed at the legs of the two running males in black and wrap their legs together. Within a second, the liquid instantly formed into a rope and bounded their legs together, forcing them to fall face down.

"You both gave me a good morning run, thanks for that!" You say as you place two handcuffs around their wrists, "But you should seriously think about another hobby besides stealing."

From afar, you heard a loud boom coming from the middle of Musutafu.

In an instant, you formed another bunch of rope and tied the two males around their waist and pushed them to the corner of a building.

"Run away and you'll get more than just jail time," you say as you rush off to the scene.

The minute you reached the scene, your eyes widened in fear.

Endeavor was the reason behind the whole catastrophe here?

From behind, you felt a pair of soft hands touch your shoulder.

"I know what it looks like, but trust me it isn't," Nemuri started, "A villain that has a mind control quirk is controlling Endeavor from a distance. I've been trying to locate them, but no luck."

You smiled, looking at your girlfriend.

"You managed to get all of that in a few seconds?" you ask, amazed, "I got a good one, didn't I?"

You felt Midnight pinch you from behind.

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, now isn't the time to flirt with me," the female hero said.

You nod, washing away the playful smile.

"You get all the civilians out of here and contact the heroes through the network. I'll try to get him down and knock him out," you say. Nemuri nodded and began to gather the civilians away from the scene.

"Now," you turn to face the 2nd best hero, "How does one take down someone much, much more stronger than you?"

You slowly gathered your liquid in your palm, allowing the fluid to grow in volume.

"You defeating Endeavor would be a sight to behold, not going to lie here," the villain said through Endeavor, "But I am willing to test out that theory."

You lunged at the fire user while creating a fire-resistant rope to tie him down in your hand. In the other, you managed to conjure a Haladie sword - a sword you've trained with ever since your days in UA.

Using the sword, you managed to propel yourself above Endeavor and cut his back. Using the momentum you built, you used both your feet to hit the back of Endeavor's knees, forcing him to kneel.

You immediately stabbed his dominant hand, preventing him from reacting quickly.

With a snap, the Haladie sword transformed back into its liquid state and wrapped around his left hand.

"I was never planning on defeating Endeavor but merely securing him, dear villain of mine," you say as you transformed the liquid around his left hand into a quick-cancelling glove, "It’s one point for Y/N, right now. No point for little Mindy over here."

You began to build up more liquid in your hands to hopefully form another Haladie sword or at least a blade.

The controlled Endeavor began to get up slowly and turn to face you.

"I didn't peg you to be a dumb one, Y/N."

You felt a blade pierce through your stomach.

A civilian sobbed as they pressed the blade deeper into your body, your blood dripping onto their office coat.

"I can't believe you let your guard down so easily. It was your fault to assume I could only control one person at a time, little hero," the controlled civilian said midst crying.

"And that will be your downfall," Endeavor said as small flames began to grow from the palm of his right hand.

The knife that once was in your body was violently ripped out of your body by the controlled civilian and then used to kill themself by piercing their heart.

Tears fell as you saw the now lifeless male bleed to death right beside you.

"Oh don't worry," Endeavor said, "I'll make sure you also go with him, too. That small wound won't kill you, I know that."

You saw Midnight running towards you along with Eraserhead and All Might.

"You know, I always pictured you crying over a dead Nemuri Kayama whilst bleeding from your stomach, have you?"

Your eyes widened at the statement.

There was no way you were going to let that villain kill her.

"Eraser," you screamed, "Erase his quirk and get Midnight out of here."

'Please don't fail on my now, buddy,' you told to your body as you ran towards Endeavor, 'You still have to live for the people you love.'

You quickly formed another Haladie sword and vaulted from the floor towards Endeavor.

You managed to grab the hand aimed at Midnight and pushed it towards you. Using the remainder fluid you had, you formed another quirk-cancelling glove on Endeavor's right hand.

You could hear a sigh of relief from both Nemuri and Shouta, making you smile.

From afar, you heard All Might saying that he caught the villain that was controlling both the civilian and Endeavor. You were shocked when you heard the number one hero's laugh of victory.

You were amazed at the skill the male had.

A villain that took two people to search for was found by him in a few minutes.

Soon, the wound formed by the dead civilian began to take effect as your vision became hazy.

Before you could lose consciousness, you felt Nemuri's hands wrap around you, catching you before you fell.

When you woke up, you heard the sound of hospital monitors beeping. You felt a small hand gripping around your left hand.

"Why did you let them stab you, idiot," you heard your younger brother say, "Don't go teaching me a lesson with your death - it won't work."

You chuckled, looking at the younger blonde. "If this doesn't work on you, I don't know what will."

Katsuki began to sob on your blanket while gripping on the four fingers his small fingers could grip.

"It's okay, Kacchan," you saw a green-haired boy patting his back, "He is here and he is alive. That is all that matters, okay?"

You smiled, looking at the greenette.

"What's your name?" you ask him.

"I'm Izuku Midoriya! I'm friends with Kacchan," he says with a beaming smile.

"Kacchan, huh?" you tease, "You are really close friends with Kacchan, aren't you?"

Before Izuku could reply, you felt Katsuki pinch your leg.

"I don't even know why I care for you, you fatass."

"Oh, how you wound me," you feign sadness as the ten-year-olds left your room.

You smile at the sight of the greenette consoling your brother as they walk out of the room.

You look up to the ceiling, sighing.

"You are a bit too young to be sighing so loudly, Y/N," Nemuri said as she slowly opened the door, "I saw what you did there. Don't tease Katsuki so often, he is quite mature for his age, you know?"

You smile, looking at Nemuri with her hands on her waist.

"He's growing too fast. I need small moments like this to remember how innocent he is before he becomes the raging little twit I know he'll become."

"Woah, Woah, Woah," she says, laughing, " 'Raging little twit'? You really are a bad brother."

You begin laughing, "I have to be the playful one or else the Bakugo's would be a family of three brooding people and one peaceful man."

"True."

Your eyes widen.

"You aren't supposed to agree, you know?"

"My mother taught me not to lie," she says, smiling.

"Well, white lies aren't bad."

She sits beside you and holds your hand. Tears slowly escape her eyes as she looks at you.

"You are okay, right?" She says, sniffling.

You slowly wipe off her tears and put the palm of your hand on her cheek.

"I'm fine, Nemuri."

You slowly move towards her and place a kiss on her forehead.

You pat the empty side of your bed, "Want to join me?"

She slowly nods as she walks to the empty side of the bed and gets in. Her legs immediately wrap around your left leg as she places her head against your chest. Her left hand extends around your waist and hugs you.

"What are you, a koala?" you joke.

"What can I say? You are a comfy tree."

"Well, I am glad to be of service."

Soon, Nemuri goes to sleep. Soft snores can be heard from her as she rubs her head against your chest.

'The koala became a cat,' you thought to yourself.

Your right-hand goes to the top of her head, ruffling her hair.

"I love you so much, Nemuri Kayama. I always will. If I had to, I would gladly lay my life down so that you'd be safe. I know you're asleep and probably can't hear this, but you are the most important thing in my life - don't forget that," you tell her sleeping figure as you fall asleep.

[elysianightsss]

When Dusk begins.

Part Two.

Warnings: none yet but there will be smut in upcoming chapters.

SERIES MASTERLIST.

“What just happened?!” You shouted over the loud wind that brushed harshly against your skin. The slight pricks against your cheeks; a hint of realisation hit you as you felt the warm unstable ground you were sinking into. “We’re in Egypt.” You whispered in disbelief. Your eyes widened and a swarm of panicked breaths swirled around you. “Ahkmen! Ahkmenrah!”

“I’m here!” He yelled. You turned to see him climbing over the sand to you. He grabbed your hand pulling you closer as if protecting you while he was surveying the area. You looked over his face, the way his jaw was clenched, his eyes were stern. You couldn’t help but smile thinking of the smiling teddy bear he was earlier.

“That’s my home.” He pointed to the large palace. Your breath caught in your throat. You were seeing an actual ancient Egyptian palace up close. Ahkmenrah pulled you along with the words ‘let’s go’.

“Wait. We can’t go there. We don’t even know if it’s safe. We don’t even know how we got here? How do we get back? What happens if we can’t get back?!” You started to panic; all the horrid thoughts spiralling in your head. Ahkmenrah frowned cupping your face with one hand.

“Listen to me. It’s going to be okay. No matter what happens, I will protect you.” You saw the truth in his words with the way his face shifted. He was serious. You took a deep breath and nodded, putting your trust in him.

Three days earlier...

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You couldn’t think of one thing to say. Out of the amount of questions you had built up over the years. All the things you wanted to know; why didn’t you just ask something.....he was just so distracting.

“Y/N!” You blinked out of your daze. “Are you even listening to me?” Your friend smirked at your far away look.

“No,” you began sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I am now. Go on.” You smiled.

“As I was saying. He told me I was too mindless to be with him since he was looking for a serious relationship——-“

You loved your friend Alyssa. She was like the sister you never had. But no matter how many times you tried you couldn’t find it in yourself to be interested in her love life. It was huge. Her ‘love life’ stretched across the whole city. She complains about being dumped but you know for a fact that she doesn’t care, especially since she had a plethora of men left at her disposal.

“So yeah we’re not seeing each other anymore. Oh and I got a hot date this Saturday with a guy called Spence. He’s cool.” It caused you physical pain for you not to roll your eyes there and then.

“That’s great hun.” You thanked Larry more than ever when your phone went off with an ‘emergency’ halfway through Alyssa’s explicit story of last nights one night stand.

You got to the museum just before sun down. It looked so strange with nothing walking around. It felt so empty. Standing at the front desk you waited for Larry to show up. After a while you began to wander about, it was not long before you found yourself at Ahkmenrah’s exhibit. You walked inside really examining the place. It felt so much like home to you, so strange.

Your eyes laid upon the sarcophagus. Frowning at the thought that he must have been so lonely all those years stuck inside the box. Just as you placed your hand on the glass case, a glow shone brightly from behind you. The golden shine was magnificent, you watched the tablet come to life in awe.

A loud sound echoed through the walls of the exhibit as Ahkmenrah started to scream. You acted quickly, removing the glass top and pulling out the pins of the coffin. With a grunt you pushed off the lid. Ahkmenrah sat up pulling off the dusty bandages.

“Thank you Y/N.” You really weren’t used to him saying your name. No not yet.

“No problem.” Both of you smiled at one another. He dusted himself off and placed his crown on his head turning to you. You suddenly felt awkward, he noticed you shifting your shoulders uncomfortably.

“So Larry tells me you like Egypt.” He said making you laugh.

“You could say that. More like.. it’s my life.” You giggle sheepishly. His face brightened at your words, happy to find someone who shares the same enthusiasm about his life.

“Well I could tell you abo—“

“Y/N! AHK!” Your head snapped to Larry who was looking about frantically.

“What’s wrong?” You asked standing up, instantly feeling the warm presence behind you. Somewhere in your mind you had convinced yourself that because Ahk was basically dead, theoretically he would be a cold, with lifeless features. But his warmth and comforting tropical scent proved you wrong.

“The cavemen left the museum. I need you to use the tablet to bring them back!” He rushed out. Ahkmenrah nodded with urgency and grabbed the golden tablet out of the wall.

“I’ll go wait by the door.” Larry said before running off.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise at the golden glow that shone when Ahkmenrah pressed a few buttons on the tablet.

“That’s cool.” You grinned like a idiot not noticing the Egyptian King grinning at you, he couldn’t help but smile at the wonder in your eyes. He was so focused on you that his thumb slipped and pressed a button...

You screamed so loud you thought your lungs would burst. You fell into swirls of gold and fluorescent turquoise. With a thump you landed coughing. The unclear air made you uneasy....

You and Ahkmenrah made your way closer to the palace. It was so beautiful and grand. The light colour used made you feel hopeful that nothing bad was going to happen, or maybe that was Ahkmen’s hand in yours.

You stumbled over your feet as you saw guards with spears stationed at the entrances. They kneeled looking down the moment they saw Ahk.

“That means they can see us.” You whispered panicked. He rubbed his thumb gently over the back of your hand in a way of calming you. Pulling you passed them qucikly, practically running. He grabbed a piece of cloth from a pile that a woman was carrying, much to your confusion.

He pulled you into a room closing the big door behind both of you and shoving the cloth in your hands. “What’s this?” You frowned unfolding it to show a very light yellow almost white gown.

“They can see us. Which means they can see your modern day clothes. Until we can figure out what’s happening the best thing we can do is blend in.” He explained, you nodded agreeing. You looked at him waiting for him to turn around.

“Could you, yanno turn around?” You asked sheepishly. He chuckled with a look of understanding before turning to face the doors.

“Right. I forgot that nudeness is a big deal in your time.” He said making you unbelievably scoff at the thought of him being naked 24/7 in his time.

“Okay. I’m done.” Your fingers brushed over the beautiful soft gown. It felt so lushious. It went all the way down to the floor, swaying with the breeze. You looked up to see Ahkmenrah staring at your with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher.

He stepped forward taking a piece of the material in between his thumb and forefinger. Your breathing increased at the look in his eyes. He tilted his head sideways shamelessly examining the skin on your neck and chest that was on display. He was so near now you could feel his hot breath tickling your nose. You were both inching closer unknowingly, it felt so good to be close to someone. It felt so so so nice.

“Ahkmen?” You both jumped, blinking quickly pulling away and turning to see a woman. She was gorgeous, dark dark hair with braids here and there. Beads of gold hung delicately on strands. A white gown covered her body, a shiny collar clung to her neck. A magenta sash tightened around her waist. Ahkmenrah’s hand squeezed yours tightly, moving his arm to pull you behind him and out of line of vision. Your eyes widened at his words.

“Mother?”

[whump-a-la-mode]

Escape: Part 2

This is a bit different from what I usually do. @equestrianwritingsstuff recently posted a one-off piece, and I got a little bit obsessed with it. So, with her permission, this is a continuation! The original post can be found here.

Summary: After being captured and forced into a torturous reform program, Villain attempts escape-- but throws it all away to save the life of his foe.

CW//Attempted conditioning, denial of food, denial of water, intentional self injury, broken glass, blood, mentions of car crashes, collars, chains, firearms, attempted murder

“Okay.” The sigh was sharp, enough so to make Villain bite their own tongue in apprehension. “Let’s try another one.”

Nosey shuffled through the stack of papers piled before them on the desk. Villain glanced down at the pile-- noting its sheer height. He wasn’t expected to go through all those, right? No, that would certainly take all night.

“Here.” The hero before him settled on one of the pages, picking it up. “This one should be easy.”

Villain muttered something under his breath, laden with swears and insults.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Mhm.” A haughty exhale. “Here. If you get this one on the first try, you can go back to your cell and... I don’t know, do whatever it is you do. I’m tired of looking at your face.”

Back to his cell. That made Villain perk up, nearly straining against the cuffs holding him firmly to the table.

“Okay, let’s just get this over with. Here’s the scenario. You’re walking along the street, and you see someone hit by a car. The car does not stop, and the victim is thrown onto the sidewalk in front of you. They are clearly alive, but severely injured. Do you:

A: Use your healing powers to treat their injuries.

B: Search the surrounding area for a civilian with medical training

C: Contact the Heroic Civilian Treatment Team to take the victim to hospital.”

“Um...”

Villain felt the hairs on the back of his neck stick up, despite being half wetted down with sweat.

If someone had been struck by a vehicle, the obvious answer would be to help them as quickly as possible. As soon as injuries like that were inflicted, the clock was already ticking.

The heroes were terribly resistant to him using his powers in any situation-- that was somewhat the whole point of the Villain Containment Practices. But in this case, it would certainly be an exception, right? Their whole job was supposed to be protecting life.

“Uh- I- I think A.” He at last croaked out. “Use my healing powers to stabilize them, then find a civilian doctor to get them to the hospital.”

Nosey sighed.

“A situation like this should always be deferred to us. Using your powers is never the answer.”

They placed down the paper, hastily rearranging the messy stack of them.

“Let’s go back to the gym. I’ll let you off with ten laps, this time.”

Villain gulped, phlegm sliding down a dry throat, as a pair of guards advanced to untie him from the table.

“C- Can I have some water? Please?”

“You’ve already lost your food privileges for the day. Do you really want to lose your water, too? You get water once you’ve earned it. For now, we’re going to the gym.

At this rate, maybe you should just become a permanent resident in our program.”

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The glass was mocking them.

Villain was certain of that, even as he kneeled on his cot of a bed, half delirious, half exhausted.

The glass of water sat on a small table at the bed’s end. Just a glass, hardly even filled halfway. Haphazardly placed under a faucet for a few moments without thought.

He knew he had to drink it. He didn’t have much of a choice. Tomorrow would only bring more questions, more laps, more push-ups, more lectures. It would be terrible, certainly, but the small amount of liquid would make it at least the tiniest bit more bearable. Give him the tiniest bit more strength.

It was all he had. He’d spent the day watching his classmates-- that’s what the heroes called them, they were fellow prisoners, at best-- eating their meals, while he sat at an empty table.

Just because he had started a fight didn’t mean he should have to starve. Besides, they had it coming. Stuck up ass.

Villain frowned, cracked and dry lips sticking together, and reached forth to pick up the glass.

He needed to drink it, but as soon as he did, it would be gone. He would have to earn the next few drops through countless tears and buckets of sweat. At the very least, right now, he had control. He had a choice.

Not a very good one, but...

When had he gotten to this point? Having a crisis in a barren room over a half-glass of water? He was supposed to be a villain. Others were supposed to fear him.

Besides...

Villain’s hand shook, water sloshing, even as he was careful not to lose a single, precious drop.

He didn’t know how much longer he could survive like this. Endless exercise, endless questions. Maybe they would never let him out. Maybe they wanted him to die here. Hell, they probably wanted him to die here. One less problem, drained of strength until they no longer had enough to breathe.

This was one long, drawn out execution. Even if it wasn’t, he could hardly imagine a situation in which they allowed his parting. In which they considered him at long last “reformed.”

Villain had to leave. He had to. He was leaving here either in a glorious escape, or in a body bag. Or, worse: In a hero’s uniform.

He downed the water, feeling the heavenly moisture fill his throat. It was the best thing he had ever tasted, despite the fact that water had no taste to it.

It was far less pleasant than what would come next. He knew from unfortunate experience that there were only two things that could get him out of this cell: Going to ‘class,’ or having an emergency.

The first wouldn’t work.

There was no camera in the room, he had searched long and hard to confirm that fact. At the very least, he didn’t have to do much in the way of acting. Not yet.

He swung his unsteady legs over the edge of the bed, standing, stumbling halfway to the end table.

Before throwing the glass to the floor.

It was a miracle, that the heroes allowed him glass dishware. The cup exploded, a thousand shining pieces scattering about the floor.

Now, for the unpleasant part.

Villain gritted his teeth, throwing himself onto the broken glass, ensuring that it dug into his flesh, his legs and his palms. At the very least, his screams were genuine.

“Help! Help!” He wailed. “I’m hurt! Help, please help! Oh god, that’s my blood, oh god oh god...”

There was no camera in the room, but the door was plenty thin, and in this facility, screams carried far. To ensure this, he let out a few more cries, carrying them on until the door lock was frantically turned, the door thrown open on its hinges.

Hero’s inhale was quick enough that she nearly started choking on her own breath.

“V-Villain, oh god, that’s- That’s your blood?”

Of course it was, dimwit. It was flooding from his skin, wasn’t it?

“Y- Yes. I tripped, um, oh god, oh...”

The swaying and slurring of his words were not pretend, either. Dehydration and hunger made sure of that.

“Can you walk?” How was there so much concern in her tone?

“Don’t know.”

“We need to try. I can carry you, but- We need to get to the infirmary.”

The hero hurried to their foe’s side, arms under his shoulders helping him to his feet. He could walk on his own, not well, but he could-- though Hero had no need to know that.

“Okay.”

“It’s a pretty long walk. We can take it slow, okay?”

“Yeah.”

That was exactly what they did. Their movements were so painfully slow that at times Villain wondered whether or not they were moving at all, but, after some time, they did cover some distance. The few people awake at such an hour steered clear, seeing a villain covered in blood and wanting nothing to do with it in the slightest.

The infirmary was on the bottom floor, Villain had seen it on his way in, making note of its placement. Of course, Hero wasn’t about to make him struggle down all those stairs. No. She went straight for the elevator, stepping into the isolated box with her foe and letting the doors closed.

This was it. The elevator ride would only last a few moments-- it was now or never.

As subtly as he possibly could, Villain placed his hand upon his injured leg, the minty thrum of healing powers knitting together the slices. Though, it did nothing to dry the blood that had already seeped out.

He was healed, and Hero was alone. Trapped.

By all accounts, it was a fight that Villain should have lost. He was exhausted, stomach left empty for far too long, and veins severely lacking in blood. Hero had the benefit of being well-fed, well-rested, all of it.

But that explanation left out one thing.

Villain was desperate.

He watched the small, digital screen count down the floors.

4...

3...

2...

Now!

The strike may not have been powerful, but it was aided by the sheer speed at what it was launched. Villain’s fist collided with Hero’s temple, knocking her sideways, stumbling. He wasted not a millisecond in preparing his next strike, hearing the crack of a cheekbone beneath his knuckles.

Hero let out a cry, holding her face where a bruise would certainly bloom in the hour. Limbs still soaked in scarlet, Villain swung out with his leg, catching Hero in the knee, sending her to the elevator floor with a hollow crash.

1.

The elevator doors opened.

It was the fastest Villain had ever run in his life, he was certain of that. His legs were little more than blurs of red as he sprinted forth, tearing through a lobby that was nearly barren. An infinitesimal distance between him and freedom.

“Oh no you don’t!”

His legs came out from under him, his face striking the tile floor, almost certainly giving him an identical blessure to Hero.

The voice-- it was Nosey’s stupid, avian squawk. And, too, their polished boot struck Villain’s back.

“You really thought it’d be that easy?”

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The metal chafed horribly against Villain’s neck, somehow making his throat’s desiccation more acute. He laid his head against the thin carpet, spine aching terribly. The movement shifted the chain latched onto his collar, the slight clinking noise making his heartbeat stutter.

Tied up like a dog.

“Is this really necessary?” He grumbled, shifting himself to a sitting position, gazing upwards.

To Hero’s bed. Her legs dangled off the side of the mattress, hands gripped into fists around gathered bedsheets.

“We’ve been over this. That cell was a privilege, and you’ve lost it.”

“And so you chain me to the wall like a dog.”

“Exactly. You need to be under my direct supervision.”

“Yeah, whatever. Did you really have to stick this stupid collar on me?”

“I’m no happier about this than you are. But I’m not giving you free reign of my bedroom. You already tried to kill me once tonight.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“Whatever. Unlike you, I actually have things to do in the morning. So, if you would please let me sleep?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“If you do something for me first.”

“You are in the worst possible position to make demands, right now.”

Villain’s sigh tore at his throat.

“I just want some water.”

“Just that? Wait. You’re not going to smash the glass again, are you? I’m way too tired for that nonsense a second time tonight.”

“Just don’t put the water in a glass, then.”

“You actually just want water?”

“Yes.” He added rather pathetically. “Please?”

“I... Fine. Then you’ll let me sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“Fine.”

Hero stood, glancing suspiciously at her captive as she made her way across the room. As if he could do anything-- the chain was maybe three feet in length. He could barely lay his head down.

She maneuvered to her kitchenette, returning with a plastic cup-- filled to the brim with that precious liquid. She placed it before him. He was already drooling.

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Villain.”

“Goodnight.”

Was that really all it took to domesticate him? A glass of water? It hardly mattered. As soon as Hero turned off the light, bathing the room in shadow, Villain downed the liquid as though his life depended on it.

Perhaps, it did.

It wasn’t long before Hero’s steady breathing had turned to soft snoring. Villain shifted himself into the most comfortable position he could manage. Even that, however, was far from being pleasant, with the chain threatening to strangle him at any moment.

That wasn’t what kept him from sleeping, however. He needed to sleep. He knew that, he wasn’t stupid. He would need his energy for the next day of lessons, of shouted orders and lectures.

That was all his life would be from now on, wouldn’t it? Orders and exhaustion and being forced to earn the most basic of needs by answering moral quandaries incorrectly.

Villain wanted, longed, to cry. To let out all the horrible emotions that had stuck in his chest cavity, threatening to drown his lungs in sorrow. But that would break the conditions of the deal.

He had to be quiet, or else he might never again be allowed water.

It was that dread in his chest, that hopelessness, that forced him awake.

So, he laid, still, listening to Hero’s snores as his own body refused to allow him unconsciousness.

Snores, and...

Footsteps.

Footsteps? Villain tensed, holding stock still, pricking his ears for the noise. They drew louder, louder, before stopping. Stopping outside the dorm room door.

He held his breath.

The door opened gently enough that the hinges made only the slightest noise. Then, the footsteps were inside.

Villain shrunk down in the corner, making himself far smaller and quieter than anyone of his status should ever have had to be.

Two sets of footsteps. Growing louder, coming towards the bedroom. The bed.

Hero.

“Are you sure we need to do this?” An unknown voice, whispering.

“If you want this plan to work, we don’t have a choice.”

That voice, that voice was not unknown. It was loud, terribly high pitched, terribly-

Nosey.

“We really have to kill them?”

“We won’t get the chance if you keep talking. Just do it, don’t chicken out on me, now.”

“Okay, okay.”

Villain’s heartbeat shivered.

The cocking of a gun. That horrible sound, that precursor of bloodshed.

Then, the shot. Two pairs of footsteps, fleeing, slamming the door behind themselves.

Villain gulped.

It was no doubt what had happened-- if he had had any doubts, they were quickly drowned out as Hero’s breathing hitched, then quieted to an almost imperceptible level. Growing slower, weaker by the second.

They are clearly alive, but severely injured.

In the scenario, he had had three choices. But this wasn’t a training scenario.

Now, he only had two.

A: Praise his lucky stars and use the opportunity to escape. There was a fire escape, just outside the window. He would be gone into the night before anyone knew any different.

Or...

B: Do the right thing.

Villain threw himself against the chain about his neck, collar threatening to cut off his airways. He spun about, gripping the chain in clammy fingers, pulling and tugging and-

Her breathing was getting quieter, weaker.

He pulled harder, muscles straining with the effort. The chain was anchored to the wall with a spike, drilled in. There was no way he could break the chain, no way he could break the spike, but-

Villain’s heel slammed through the plaster and drywall, chain flying backwards at his face. He hardly made note of it. Spike and chain and all dragging behind him, he tore to Hero’s bedside.

It was almost fortunate, that the lights were off. He couldn’t see the extent of the wounds.

He placed his hands upon her head, that minty feeling rushing to his fingers, his palms, her skin.

Using your powers is never the answer.

No. No, that wasn’t true.

Rules didn’t matter. Training didn’t matter. All that mattered was doing the right thing.

[ruthiswriting]

body of choice

chainsaw man | denji, power, hayakawa aki, gen, 5k | on ao3

“It’s just…” He stopped. “You really don’t care about tits?”

There was a long silence, punctuated only by low buzz of Aki’s desk lamp. “You care about tits,” Aki said finally, “an unusual amount.”

(or: Time off work means that Denji gets to spend a lot of time thinking about what exactly it is that he likes about tits, anyway. Gender is involved. Power helps.)

inspired by my roommate’s headcanon that denji is a trans lesbian and doesnt know it yet! this fic takes place after the international assassin arc but before ch 73.

trigger warning for denji making transphobic statements due to the fact that he doesnt know that being trans is a thing, internalized transphobia, and body dysphoria. general disclaimer that i am not a trans woman but have been known to experience a gender from time to time. enjoy!

-

They’d all been given time off work, after the Darkness Devil. A leave of absence for Aki to recover, for Power to get her head screwed back on straight, and for Denji to sit and wait for them to be well, since he wasn’t allowed to go on work missions by himself. It was coming to an end soon— Aki had acclimated to his one arm pretty well, and Power didn’t wake up screaming anymore, so they’d be back to work soon.

Still, Denji was running out of ways to fill the empty time. Having nothing to do made him sizzle with nervous energy, waiting for something to do, for a task and directive to achieve. Aki provided the direction of reading materials, movies, and chores— but it still gave him too much time to think.

So it was a lazy afternoon, not long after lunch but still too early for another meal, when Denji asked Power a question.

“Hey, Power,” he said. “You took over a dead body, right?”

She was stretched out on the floor on her back, hugging Meowy in her arms— Aki always said that she held him too tightly, but no matter what Power did the stupid cat purred like a pleased, rusty motorboat. Denji’s question made her stall, frowning as Meowy squirmed. “Eh?”

“That’s what Aki said a fiend was,” Denji said, rolling onto his elbow to look at her from the couch. “A devil that took over a human’s dead body. So you did that, right?”

She paused, thinking this over— reaching for something hidden in her memory. Then her eyes widened, and she sat up. “That’s right,” she said, suddenly triumphant. She rubbed one finger under her nose, pivoting Meowy to rest awkwardly in the crook of her other arm. “I forgot… The way Power was born!”

There was the beginning of the story in the gleam of her eyes— something that would go on, and be uninteresting and mostly nonsensical. “Yeah, I don’t really care about any of that,” Denji said, before she could begin. “I was just wondering, like,” he paused, and one hand rose up, like he could better form the thought if he could grab it. “…Why’d you end up picking the body you did?”

“I used whatever was convenient,” she said. “Of course, my body is the best body I could have gotten. Tis one of the reasons I am so perfect.”

“So you didn’t care about what it looked like?”

Power sniffed, immediately dismissive of the question. “Only humans care about things like that,” she said. Denji could tell she was starting to lose interest in the conversation— she was starting to lift Meowy in front of her, the cat’s little arms jutting awkwardly toward her as his body dangled. “It is very sad! The only good devil feature I have now are my horns… Human bodies really are so unappealing. And they all look the same.”

This caught Denji off guard. He slid forward on the couch, trying to get Power’s attention again to argue. “Huh? That’s not true at all. We all look completely different. Like, you don’t look anything like me. And Aki looks super different from us…” His argument warmed up slowly as he cooked it over, and suddenly, he was invigorated. “We all look super fucking different! That’s crazy.”

“What are you two talking about?” Aki appeared in the doorframe, his one remaining arm wrapped over the white laundry basket he’d been struggling with the whole day.

“Denji is jealous of my perfect body,” Power said.

“No way!”

Before Power could say anything else stupid, Meowy squirmed over her shoulder to land on the ground behind her with a thump. She wheeled again to grab at him, but he scooted comfortably out of her arm’s reach to vanish under the couch, curling his patchy tail around his feet. “Meowy!”

Denji pointed at her, victorious. “That’s what you get. He’s not gonna come out for the rest of the day.”

“You two, stop fighting,” Aki said, before Power’s high pitched whine could end in a yell. “Denji, help me hang up the laundry. And Power, you need to clean Meowy’s litter box. It stinks.”

“Meowy should be allowed to shit wherever he wants,” Power grumbled.

“He does shit wherever he wants,” Aki said. “He just has better manners than you.”

As he stood on the balcony with Aki, picking up shirts one by one to hang, Power’s words continued to turn in Denji’s chest, until they finally stopped to lodge themselves there at an uncomfortable angle. It felt like he’d swallowed a piece of food before chewing it all the way through, and some piece was sticking there. His breaths couldn’t dislodge it.

Was he jealous of Power’s body?

No. There was no way. Why would he want a body like Power’s?

He’d seen a lot of Power’s body. All of it, actually. He knew what it looked like, what it felt like— even what it tasted like, not that he’d wanted to drink her blood. And he’d decided, pretty thoroughly, he wasn’t interested. Whatever exciting mystery lay under a girl’s clothes had fallen flat when it was attached to Power.

But maybe there was something else to want about her body? Something not about sex, or touch. He couldn’t name it. Or maybe, eventually, he could name it— but he definitely shouldn’t.

Laundry ended with hanging their spare public safety uniforms, all in an identical line. Denji was bigger than Power, and Aki was taller than both of them— still, they were all close enough in size that their clothes could easily mingle together in a confused heap. Denji had gotten halfway through getting dressed into Power’s too-small clothes to know he couldn’t wear her pant size, but on the line they almost looked identical. Empty squares of fabric, wafting in the warm breeze. When the sleeves moved, they looked like they were waving in time.

“You’re thinking about something,” Aki said.

He was kneeling by the now empty laundry basket, because even though Denji could have hung the laundry by himself in about the same amount of time, Aki had insistently stayed to pass the laundry to him. Denji guessed he just didn’t like being able to finish the stuff he could before, when he had both arms, and that maybe if he stuck around to the end of the task it was like he could do it anyway. But also, it felt like he was watching Denji. Waiting for something important.

Denji clipped the last shirt up, letting the clothespin clap shut around the starched white collar. “It’s nothin’ important,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

The next day, Denji remembered something that brought him back to Power, reading through a manga that Aki had brought home from the conbini.

“I thought of something else about what you said that doesn’t make sense,” Denji said, standing over her.

She had to move the volume down out of her face to look at him, scowling immediately at the interruption. “What?”

“You said that you don’t care about your body, but you do,” Denji said, accusatory. “You wore those— fake boob things. Why the hell would you do that if you didn’t care about what your body looked like?”

She stared at him, and Denji could see from her expression, instantly, she’d forgotten the whole conversation already. Power forgot about a lot of shit, admittedly, but for some reason it felt like a bad sign— like Denji was putting way too much thought into something stupid. He went on pointlessly to add, “you know— what we talked about. How you said human bodies are gross…”

“Correct. Human bodies are gross,” Power said, instantly confident even if she’d forgotten the context. “But there are ways to make them less gross.”

She sat up, throwing the magazine aside. Denji jerked back, out of the circumference of her turning legs, and watched her draw herself up. “It is also helpful to have large breasts,” she said, confident. “Because many people desire them, and so they act in useful ways— like when you helped me save Meowy.” She folded her legs under her and crossed her arms, with sudden finality.“Isn’t that right?”

“Well— yeah,” Denji said. “But you couldn’t have known I would do that before we met…” His eyes flickered to her chest automatically at the memory— she wasn’t wearing them right now, so her t-shirt hung loosely against her body.

“But I knew humans are disgusting. And that they would be interested in me having larger breasts.” She crossed her arms and legs at once, forming a defiant pretzel. “Maybe you should try it some time, Denji.”

Any further argument Denji had against this line of reasoning immediately evaporated. He felt his face flush instantly, and he struggled for words— or anything at all, really. “What—“ he stopped, sputtering. “Don’t be fucking stupid! I can’t have tits, I’m a guy.”

“Why not?”

He stared at her, bewildered. “Cause— cause guys don’t have tits.”

It was so obvious it felt stupid to say— but even with it being obvious it felt like a weak argument. Power wrinkled her nose. “Stupid! Very stupid, Denji. Come with me.” She stood up, briefly on the couch before hopping down next to him. And then, she grabbed his arm and marched him to the bathroom, her fingers making a vise grip against his skin.

“You’re lucky I’m here to help you,” Power said, shutting the bathroom door behind them. This seemed like a bad sign to Denji— Power had to practically be bribed to not leave the door open when shitting, and she didn’t care when they shut the door either. She was trying to cut off his escape route. “Humans are so limited and rigid in their thinking! It’s very boring, so I will help you.”

She was wriggling out of her t-shirt as she talked, discarding it on the floor between them. Then, she ducked her arms behind her back to undo the clasps on her bra. That wasn’t really a big deal— Denji had seen Power naked before, and he’d done her laundry enough times to know what her underwear looked like. But he was starting to feel nervous about wherever this conversation was going. “Power,” he said, eyes flickering to follow her movements, “I don’t know about this.”

“I’m only trying to show you,” she said. “That it is very easy. And that humans do look alike.”

And then, she was pulling his shirt off— Denji choked as the cloth dragged against his mouth, arms jerking up automatically to follow the movement. His shirt joined hers on the floor.

With businesslike hands, Power turned him around so he was staring at the blank drywall. He felt the bra drag around his ribcage. “Whoa— whoa,” Denji yelped.

“Don’t bother fighting me! This is for your own good!” She was snapping the clasps in place, so it was snug against his body. They scratched against his back as they clicked.

Then, she pulled the straps over his arms. Denji felt his eyes drop, to where his cleavage would be, if he had cleavage (but he didn’t because he was a guy, and so he shouldn’t be thinking about this). The rip cord of his chainsaw heart curled awkwardly out between the bra’s lace detailing. He could feel it constrict in his chest— an ugly spasm in reaction to the way it gapped against him.

Power’s hands snaked out from under his armpits. She was holding the breast pads. “Put them on,” she commanded.

Hell no, Denji screamed. Or, well, he thought he screamed. His voice wouldn’t cooperate.  Instead, his hand moved, mechanical, to take them from her.

They were pretty much how he remembered the first time— silicone. Kind of squishy, except for an odd firmness in the middle. There was a sticky backing that probably helped keep them from falling off your chest. They also stank, since they lived up against Power’s sweaty unwashed body most of the time.

He raised them to his chest, and after a few moments of arranging, they were on, cool and sticky against his skin.

Power turned him again with one firm hand on his upper arm. Now, they were both facing the mirror— Denji in Power’s bra. Both shirtless. Both, somehow, with tits. She leaned against him and crossed her arms, smirking with satisfaction. “Now you see,” she declared. “We don’t look so different.”

She was wrong, obviously. Denji was taller than Power, and broader shouldered, and just— different. They looked different. Because they were two different people, obviously, but also because Denji wasn’t a chick. No way anyone would buy that he was just from some fake boobs.

But also, he couldn’t stop looking at them. Why? He knew they weren’t real, and also, they were on him. The usual reasons Denji wanted to be looking at tits couldn’t really apply. Especially when Power, who had actual tits, was standing next to him, naked from the waist up.

Of course, he’d already figured out he wasn’t interested in Power, so it made sense that he wasn’t looking at her— except nothing about this situation made sense at all. Especially that some noise, buzzing in the back of his skull constantly, had gone quiet. A feeling that he hadn’t even known was there was gone.

“You can keep them if you want, Denji,” Power said generously. “I only wear the bra because Aki makes me.”

Reality snapped back into place. Denji pushed her away, yanking off the bra. The boob pads unstuck from his body with only a little coaxing, and they fell to the floor with a mushy plap. “Fucking— keep your clothes on, Power!”  

Denji ran from the bathroom without reclaiming his shirt, hiding in his room from both Power and whatever he had seen in the mirror. He’d have to come back for the shirt later— Aki always got onto them for leaving their clothes in the bathroom when they showered. But he wanted to be sure that Power would be gone. Power, and her stupid fake boobs, and whatever she’d done to him when she snapped that bra into place.

That night, Aki turned on an old cartoon while he cooked dinner— the sizzle of grease popping over the tinny background music and shouted dialogue. TV always mesmerized Power, although she complained if there wasn’t blood and gore. She still sat close to the screen, blocking the bottom half with the top of her head and horns.

Denji didn’t care about TV, really. It had been kind of novel at first, since his dad had sold the TV set when he was pretty young and they’d never had money for things like movies. But since he’d gotten to watch movies with Makima, watching grainy TV on Aki’s tiny television set had hardly been appealing. But he still watched, apathetic, until his stomach began to twist again.

The show was about some kid who got cursed, so that every time they got wet they’d change from a boy to a girl— or a girl to a boy. Denji wasn’t sure. It seemed pretty inconvenient, honestly. You probably couldn’t plan for being splashed with water in every situation, and the kid didn’t want everyone to know about it, so it just ended up being a lot of dumb shit about the kid managing all the different identities and what people thought he was— or she was. Denji could hardly keep up with his one life, so managing two seemed like a huge hassle.

So he didn’t know he felt so much envy, every time the dumb kid slipped into some water fountain or got dunked in a river. It didn’t make sense to want that. Nothing he was feeling made sense.

He took a shower after dinner. The hot water steamed over the mirror, leaving Denji alone with his thoughts, and the water, trickling over his back. His naked chest.

It was probably something wrong with his head. He knew that already, though—everyone had already made it clear that whatever Denji thought about anything was probably weird and fucked up. This was probably the same sort of thing. Whatever this was.

He rubbed his skin raw with soap and tried not to look down.

It was early in the morning when Denji couldn’t take it anymore.

Without understanding why, he crawled out of bed— over where Power was sprawled, taking up half the space in his bed, like she always ended up doing whenever she passed out there— and crept down the hall to Aki’s room.

When Makima had arranged for Denji to live with Aki, the door to Aki’s room had stayed solidly shut. He hadn’t been explicitly told to stay out, but Denji knew when not to sniff. And it wasn’t like he’d been especially compelled by whatever Aki got up to, so, whatever.

But then, Power had moved in too, along with her near-constant impulse to wreck most of Aki’s possessions and her cat that liked to sleep under Aki’s desk. Aki had waged an intense internal battle between wanting to make sure he could hear when Power was up to shit and wanting to keep at least an illusion of privacy. But at some point, he’d admitted defeat, and the door remained just slightly cracked, even when he was sleeping.

Then, after the Darkness Devil, Power would alternate between sleeping in Denji’s bed and Aki’s, so whatever privacy Aki had attempted to maintain had been thoroughly destroyed. He didn’t seem to care too much anymore anyway— even when it was Denji’s turn Aki always ended up ghosting down the hall to check on them, when he thought they were both asleep.

The light was off, and Denji was at least smart enough to feel bad about bugging Aki when he was definitely asleep, and when Denji should be too. He hovered in front of the door, hand half clenched over the knob, before finally reasoning that he’d known when he’d walked over here that Aki would be asleep, so he might as well follow through. He pulled the door open, and crept into the room.

Denji had seen Aki fall asleep on the couch enough times to know that he slept like the dead.  It wasn’t something he understood— it seemed like a pretty big weakness for a devil hunter, if he was being honest. But at this point he at least knew the drill. In the dark, Denji hunted for Aki’s desk lamp, and clicked it on.

The warm yellow bulb cast dozy light over the room. Aki stayed stone still, body half curved on the bed in an uncomfortable contortion. Denji sat next to him, touching his shoulder. “Hey, Aki,” he said, voice a mutter, and felt his ears turn red.

On any other day, Aki would have remained asleep long enough for Denji to back out of this terrible idea. But as Denji hurriedly pulled his hand away, Aki’s nose wrinkled, and he slowly blinked awake. Denji’s shoulders sunk.

“Denji?” Aki’s voice was still thick with sleep, and even in the dim light he squinted like it hurt. “What’s going on? Did Power clog the toilet?”

“It’s not important,” Denji blurted. “Don’t let me bug you, actually.” He stood, planning to leave, but he couldn’t get his feet to unstick from the floor. Every attempt he made just rooted him more solidly in place.

Behind him, Aki’s gaze slowly focused on his back. “…Is everything okay?”

It was a weird sentence, from Aki. He knew it, too— there was something self conscious in the way the words formed, even through his fuzzy concern. But this whole moment was weird, and Denji figured if they both knew it he might as well take advantage of it. He glanced over his shoulder to look at Aki. “I was just, like,” he stalled, trying to find a way to word what was sitting in his chest. “Wanting to know what you thought of something I’ve been thinking about. It’s not important, but, you know…”

The lamp’s bulb was making a weird buzzing noise, filling the dead space between Denji’s fumbling sentences. Aki’s body hadn’t moved, but his eyebrows kept contracting, like if he furrowed them enough he could get to the point of Denji’s sentence. Finally, he said, words slow, “you want my advice.”

Super lame. It sounded so lame when Aki said it, in his weird, grown up way of talking about everything. “Yeah,” Denji said.

Aki looked at Denji. Looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table that was scheduled to go off in three hours (which Denji knew because whenever he couldn’t sleep he could hear Aki start to move at the same time every morning). Looked up, finally, at the ceiling, squinting into nothing. Then, he said, “okay.” And he sat up.

Before he could stop himself, Denji sat again on the bed. This time, Aki drew his legs up, making room for Denji. He waited expectantly for Denji to start talking.

“It’s just..” Denji was glad, suddenly, for the awkward configuration on the bed. Looking at Aki in the eye felt too intense. “You know. I was thinking about…” He took a breath, and said in a  burst, “Aki, you’re gay, right?”

The silence suddenly got a lot thicker. Denji could feel the way Aki stared into the side of his head with a new, unwelcome intensity. When he talked, there was a beginning of an aggravated edge to his voice. “Did you wake me up at three in the morning to ask me why I’m gay?”

“No,” Denji said defensively. “It’s just— I’m trying to understand something, okay.”

“Why..” Aki stopped, and ran a hand over his face. He tried again, voice mechanically even. “Why do you think I’m gay?”

This, at least, was an easy one. “Your ears,” Denji said. And he pointed at Aki’s ear, where normally, black stud earrings would poke out from behind his bangs. “They’re both pierced, so like… One of them’s gotta be the gay one, right.”

Aki’s face was beginning to sour at his usual impressive rate. Unusually, though, he made an effort to contain it— to keep his bad mood from running off the edges of his face into the rest of the house. “We can unpack that later,” he said. “What’s your point?”

Denji wasn’t sure, was the thing. He wasn’t sure what his point was— only that there was this unknown thing lurking in the base of his stomach, something he didn’t know was good or not. He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, like the answer was living up there. “It’s just…” He stopped. “You really don’t care about tits?”

There was a long silence, punctuated only by low buzz of Aki’s desk lamp. “You care about tits,” Aki said finally, “an unusual amount.”

“Fuck,” Denji said. He rubbed one arm over his eyes. “I know you think it’s stupid, okay. It’s...” He didn’t know. He didn’t know what it was.

Aki’s head tilted, just a little— the lamp shadowing the way he squinted at Denji. But then, he said, voice slow, ponderous: “are you thinking you don’t care about tits? And that…” He raised his eyebrow, leaving the connection for Denji to make.

“I’m not gay,” Denji said, voice definitive.

Aki didn’t argue this point. He nodded, willing to accept it without trouble. “But there’s something else about it that bothers you,” he said.  “Like…” He paused, slowly feeling out his words. “That you think what you want about them— might not be normal?”

They were statements of fact, made carefully— Aki watching his reaction between every minute word. So Denji knew that he saw the way his shoulders shriveled, inching away from whatever Aki was arriving to. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” he mumbled.

“Why not?”

Denji stared down at his hands. His hands, resting on his legs, and the curve of his stomach against his boxers. “When all those assassins were coming after me,” he said finally. “One of them said… That some things you’re just better not knowing about. So, maybe it’s one of those things.”

Aki considered. “I suppose that can be true in some cases,” he allowed. “But I’d rather know the truth, however painful. …And I don’t think it really is one of those things, this time.”

“So what do you think it is?” Denji challenged him, finally turning his head to look Aki in the eye. “You’ve got something in mind, right? You wouldn’t have said something like that otherwise.”

“Not really.”

Denji couldn’t make out Aki’s face clearly in the dark, so it was hard to tell if he was lying. “Yeah, right,” he said. And he looked away again.

It was a while before Aki responded. Before he said anything, he shifted to be sitting next to Denji— legs close together, the ghost of his empty sleeve batting against Denji’s arm. Denji chanced a look at him, out of the corner of his eyes, but Aki wasn’t meeting his eyes either. He was just looking at some point on the wall. Reflecting.

“Some things you might be better off knowing,” Aki said. “Some things maybe you shouldn’t. But I don’t think it’s wrong to want to get to know yourself better… Even if it’s uncomfortable in the meantime.”

“You do have something in mind,” Denji mumbled.

Aki paused again. “Only based off of what you told me,” he said, voice light. “What you asked me.”

Denji’s vision swam. He squeezed his eyes shut, insistent on blocking out whatever he was feeling, and however Aki was looking at him. “It really doesn’t matter,” he said again, because maybe if he kept saying it it would be true.

The bed creaked, and he felt the mattress rise underneath him as Aki stood. Denji dared to open his eyes to watch him move. Aki was turning to face Denji, so he could use his one remaining arm to push him down to the bed— gently, one hand firm on his shoulder. Denji didn’t fight. He let his body sag, until his head was resting against one of Aki’s lumpy pillows. His eyes kept prickling, so laying down was probably a bad idea. Whatever was burning behind his eyes only got worse the gentler Aki was.

But then, mercifully, Aki turned the lamp off, dropping them both into darkness. He went around to the far side of the bed, and laid next to Denji, a tiny sigh bursting out from behind his lips. Denji felt his throat click.

Aki’s arm cuffed around his head, almost cradling him in the crook of his elbow. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore, if you don’t want to,” he said. “It’s fine if it takes you time to figure it out.”

Denji wanted to protest more. To say that really, there was nothing to figure out, and that Denji was just making a big deal out of nothing. Power had said and done some weird Power shit, and that was all. He could get over it. But at this point, that felt even stupider. So Denji swallowed, and nodded. He didn’t trust his voice anymore, so Aki’s only answer would have to be the way the back of Denji’s neck shifted against his wrist.

Aki didn’t say anything else, only laid against him in the dark, a silent, still presence. Denji drew in breaths until his heart calmed, until he could trust himself to speak. “Should check on Power,” he muttered. “She still gets nightmares sometimes… ‘Specially if she wakes up alone.”

“Right,” Aki murmured. “I can go look— you don’t have to get up.”

“Nah,” Denji said, and he started to sit up.

Before he could get further than his elbows, though, a heavy, furry weight thudded into Denji’s chest. Meowy sank heavily against him, like a furry rock pinning him to the bed.

Denji swore, and in response, Power’s cat meowed in his face. “God, your breath stinks,” he muttered.

“What are you both doing in here?” The vague outline of Power’s body lingered in Aki’s doorway, like a horror movie monster.  If a horror movie monster refused to eat vegetables or brush her teeth. “You left me alone, Denji.”

Denji grumbled, still trying to move the cat. “What’s it look like we’re doing? We’re sleeping. And you defeated the Darkness Devil, so it’s fine, right? Nothing bad’s gonna happen. You’re too tough.”

“Not important!” She stepped into the room and the bare sliver of moonlight coming through Aki’s balcony. It made her face white, almost gleaming with sweat. “I knew Meowy wouldn’t leave me for no reason. You two are too weak and pathetic to be left alone! Very good work, Meowy.” She crossed the room to crawl into bed next to them, pressing up against Denji in an insistent effort to fit.

Denji grumbled in protest, but there wasn’t any stopping her— in a matter of seconds she was insistently pretzeled next to him.

“Thanks for watching out for us, Power,” Aki murmured. “Good job.”

He was already falling back asleep. Which was really pretty annoying, because Aki’s bed really wasn’t big enough for the three of them. But if Denji wanted to move, he’d have to drag all of them with him and he just didn’t want to deal with that. So he sighed and wriggled over, making room for Power by jamming himself against Aki’s shoulder.

Meowy slid off his chest like a heavy ooze, landing between him and Power on the crook of his shoulder. Power curled happily around the cat, one arm catching around it to drape across Denji’s chest.

And then, they were asleep again, with just Denji awake. Watching the dawn light start to crawl across the ceiling.

Sometimes, when he was stuck on shit like this, he started to wonder if he had been better off when it was just him and Pochita. Even if he didn’t have money and food, it was less complicated. He didn’t have time to think about things like tits, because he was too busy trying to pay rent, and the bills, and feed him and Pochita. It was harder, but also way, way fucking easier.

Right now, though, it was okay. Denji could stand thinking a little more, if it was like this.

He let his eyes close. This time, he fell asleep.

[aimeelouart]

I dunno how you feel about Rufus, but I think it’d be kind of interesting to see if he found a young time travel Cloud instead of the 1sts. Like it starts off where he like “oh another shinra bastard” but by the end evolves to “if anyone hurts Cloud I’d kill everyone in this tower and then myself” lol

The Tanuki of Shinra Tower - 2106 words, roughly the same continuity as SSC, so Cloud looks like a kid

--

Rufus blinked at the little blond child, freezing halfway through his office door. The little blond child glared back from the wall, a knife clenched between his teeth. Slowly, he slid back into the vent he was hanging out of and pulled the cover closed behind him.

“Huh,” said Rufus. He picked up the phone on his desk and dialed Veld’s office.

⁠—

The child was back, this time raiding the break room for food at the asscrack of dawn. He paused when Rufus came in, eyes briefly flitting down to where Rufus’s guns were holstered, before apparently dismissing him as unimportant and going back to rooting through the fridge.

Rufus narrowed his eyes, a little insulted but more than curious enough to set his annoyance aside for the moment. He realized what he hadn’t the first time⁠: the tiny little thing had mako in his bright blue eyes. The tiny little thing had a SOLDIER’s enhancements. So Rufus leaned against the wall by the door and crossed his arms over his chest, observing as the child picked up a container of leftover wutaian noodles, sniffed it, made a face, and put it back.

Had his father handed one of his bastard children over to Science? It didn’t seem like something he’d do, but at the same time it didn’t seem like something he wouldn’t do. And if the little thing was an experiment, why was he running amok like this? Veld hadn’t had a clue that a blond child was loose in the vents when he’d first called, though Rufus and the Turks in general were starting to think the kid had something to do with the many mysterious happenings around the Tower.

The kid finished his raid as Rufus watched thoughtfully, standing up with an apple in his mouth and a half-eaten sandwich in one hand. He kicked the fridge door shut, cast Rufus one last uninterested look, and scrambled back into the open vent, closing it behind him with his bare feet.

“Huh,” said Rufus.

He mentally dubbed the child Tanuki and set the coffee to brewing before he went back to his office and called Veld again.

⁠—

The Turks weren’t making much progress on tracking Tanuki down, which was, frankly, hilarious. Some wild theories were being thrown around, mostly for entertainment and venting frustration that they were somehow losing to a child whose age wasn’t even in the double digits. The most popular theory was that Tanuki was actually a very lifelike robot.

Rufus’s personal favorite theory was that Tanuki was the hellspawn of Scarlett and his father. Scarlett, being a heartless bitch, had dumped her newborn baby in a reactor, from which he had then emerged filled with the wrath of the gods and spite enough to kill all of Shinra by a thousand petty cuts.

Considering how often the coffee makers in the executive floors had been mysteriously sabotaged, it seemed about right.

Rufus came back to his office from an executive meeting that had lasted well past 9pm, exhausted and determined to pick up Darkstar so that they could go home immediately. He found his dog, certainly, curled up in the corner of his office on her bed. 

He also found Tanuki, sleeping like a pup against the barrel of her chest.

Starry raised her head and whined very very softly, short tail wagging as if to say ‘look what I have!’ Rufus toed off his shoes and crept over to crouch just out of arm’s reach, observing the boy’s sleeping face. Of course his murderous (pushover) guard hound would be the first to pin the child down. He shook his head and patted her flank. Her tail wagged harder.

The child woke all at once, eyes flying open and landing squarely on Rufus. It was impressive. He’d seen Turks who had far less control over themselves so soon after waking.

“Oh. You,” said the child in a sleep-roughened voice. He rubbed briefly at his eyes, yawning without actually opening his mouth. “Tell Darkstar to get off me.” One of her heavy forelegs was laid over his waist, keeping him trapped curled up against her. Mako strength or not, it was probably difficult to wiggle out from under a heavy, stubborn dog.

A little smile curled at Rufus’s lips. The kid was fearless. He liked it, especially in a maybe-possibly little half-brother. “Why would I do that instead of, say, calling a Turk while you’re stuck here?”

The kid shot him a wry look that didn’t quite fit his soft young face. “I could kill either or both of you instead,” he said with not an ounce of false bravado. Pointedly, he tapped the hilt of the knife at his waist with one finger.

“Then why don’t you?” Rufus was curious. What exactly were the kid’s goals here? Based on his preternatural skillset, he could probably have killed every single person in the Tower and gotten away with it.

“Too much trouble. I’d prefer you alive.” He reached up and scratched Starry behind the ear. She leaned into it, tail and tentacle waving happily. “And Darkstar is the most tolerable out of all of you.”

Fair enough. Rufus was satisfied for now. He whistled and Darkstar got up with a deeply reluctant whine, slinking sulkily over to his side. Tanuki got up too, stretching fluidly, and headed for the vents.

“Do you have a name?” Rufus asked impulsively.

The kid climbed up and slid into the vent feet-first, pausing to look at Rufus. A tiny, shit-eating grin curled at his lips. “All things considered,” he said, “I think the nickname you gave me is good enough for now. I’ll tell you when you’ve earned my name.” Then he closed the grate and vanished.

Rufus huffed. Alright then.

⁠—

The tiny acts of sabotage continued apace, much to the Turks’ frustration. Veld still had yet to see Tanuki himself, though a few of the younger Turks had caught glimpses. That might have been deliberate on Tanuki’s part⁠—he seemed to be something of a little shit. Rufus himself had semi-frequent, if unpredictable, conversations with the child, mostly when he caught him stealing food from the break room. 

Or from his desk. Tanuki was shameless.

The child would pass on information when it suited him⁠—flash drives, printed files, occasionally physical evidence. It all seemed very random, but Rufus guessed that there was some kind of connection between everything. Whatever it was, it was inscrutable, even to Veld.

Or at least, it was until nearly all of Science was demolished in one fell swoop.

The chaos was incredible. As the reports rolled in, it seemed that dozens upon dozens of small events had neatly lined up to kill the top scientists and send the whole department screeching to a halt. Hojo was dead, killed by one of his own experiments. Hollander was dead, drowned in a vat of mako. Every fire sprinkler in the whole building had gone off and didn’t shut off for nearly thirty minutes. The physical damage was incalculable.

And Rufus had a feeling it was all Tanuki’s doing.

Oh, he had no evidence. But arranging something so grand in scale would certainly explain why someone of his skills had been doing nothing but relatively harmless sabotage for nearly three months. Veld agreed, when he voiced his thoughts. No one had any idea where the little gremlin was, or how he’d done any of it.

Rufus got part of an answer when he retired to his executive apartment at the top of the Tower, unwilling to go to his preferred home in the city proper when there was still so much work to do. Starry perked up the moment the front door opened, whining and bounding away from his side. Eyes narrowed, Rufus drew his weapons and crept into the apartment. If Starry was whining instead of growling, it was probably fine, but one could never be too cautious.

He followed the sound of Starry’s whines into the master bedroom. There was a trail of blood leading from the windows to the en-suite bathroom. When he entered, he found Tanuki curled up in the bathtub, head pillowed on a folded-up towel with Starry nosing at his hair. His hand was pressed over his stomach. Bright crimson soaked into his shirt and dripped trickled into the bathtub, flowing steadily down the soft incline and into the drain. His lips were tinged blue, cheeks pale, the dark circles beneath his eyes stark.

“Shit,” Rufus breathed, fumbling to holster his guns and pull out his PHS as he quickly crossed over to kneel by the tub. “Kid.”

Tanuki didn’t open his eyes. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. “Did you know...that…Hojo is...actually a...good shot?”

“Was,” Rufus corrected, hitting the speed-dial for Veld’s personal phone. It was the first time he’d ever used it.

Tanuki huffed a laugh. “Was,” he agreed. “Sorry. Tried not to bleed too much on your fancy expensive carpet.”

“Oh, make no mistake,” Rufus said, shucking off his white jacket and shifting the PHS to his other ear, “you’ll be cleaning it up later.”

“Sure,” the kid agreed, breezily enough that it made Rufus’s stomach twist strangely.

Veld picked up. “Rufus?”

“Tanuki is shot and bleeding out in my bathtub. Executive suite. Send medical assistance.” He paused. “SOLDIER kit, a surgeon if you can manage it.”

“Understood.” Veld hung up.

Rufus got another towel and pressed it against Tanuki’s torso, gently moving aside the little hand that could no longer press down with mako strength to staunch the bleeding. “Hold on, kid,” he told his maybe-possibly⁠ little...no, his definitely little brother. Because Rufus said so, and what he said went.  “Help is coming.”

Tanuki didn’t say much of anything.

⁠—

The kid lived, though it was touch and go for a while. They couldn’t risk taking him down to the non-science medical floors just yet, so Veld came personally escorting one of the Turks' own medics. Assisting in emergency surgery on a mako-enhanced child on the floor of his bathroom was certainly not something Rufus was ever going to forget.

Eventually, though, long after his knees had gone numb and his back started cramping, the last bullet was fished out and the wound closed with a Cura, cast by Veld because the medic was exhausted. Rufus washed the blood from himself, then helped the medic wash the blood off the kid. They put him in Rufus’s bed, covers tucked up to his chin with heating pads (and Starry) around him to help as he recovered from blood loss.

The medic left, escorted back to her own floor by a younger Turk. Veld and Rufus both watched Tanuki sleep, lost in their thoughts.

“Did you know that Hojo was actually a good shot?” Rufus said abruptly.

Veld looked at him from the corner of his eye. “...no. That, I did not know.”

Rufus fished a bloodied USB drive out of his pants⁠—the same USB drive Tanuki had been clutching in his free hand. On its side, a neat label read ‘For Verdot: Valentine & Gast.’ He handed it over.

“I have a feeling he wasn’t just being glib about his own injuries,” he said, a wry, tired smirk pulling at his lips. “He’s a little shit like that.”

Veld read the label and slowly⁠—so slowly⁠—slipped the drive into his inner suit pocket. “Hm,” he said, a strange tightness in the corners of his eyes. It softened a little when he looked back at the kid. He leaned over, briefly resting his hand on top of Tanuki’s wild blond hair. “Get some rest,” he told Rufus, standing upright and straightening his suit jacket. “We have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

On that cheerful note, he left.

Rufus glanced at his newfound little brother and sighed. Great. Now he had to sleep on the couch.

⁠—

When Rufus woke up the next day (late, because he deserved it for once, goddammit) he found Tanuki mysteriously missing and his fridge quite a bit emptier than it had been before he’d gone to sleep. He shambled around a bit, checking to make sure the kid hadn’t gone and holed himself up in a closet like a real tanuki or anything equally ridiculous.

There was a note on one of the pillows on his bed. In a surprisingly elegant hand, it read ‘call me Cloud.’ When he flipped it over, the other side had the name and number of a carpet cleaning company. Rufus threw his head back and laughed, startling Starry.

Yeah. Tanuki⁠—Cloud⁠—was going to be just fine.

[passable-talent]

*to the tune of the victorious intro* here i am, once again, feeling love for one mr. christensen once again

gif is by the lovely and talented @haydenchristensengifs​ , to whom as well as @haydens-moles​ i am dedicating this to. we’re all on the lorenzo train together babes.

im ignoring the entire plot after like. the twenty minute mark. it’s cool. we’re cool.

Lorenzo Di Lamberti x Male!Reader (Virgin Territory, 2007)

because i want nothing more than to ride through the italian countryside with him on him. look at him. he’s perfect.

tw: internalized homophobia. also theres lots of discussion of virginity and chastity and sex in here, though there’s no actual fucking. 

You felt horribly for the cities, so filled with their plagues and their sins. Not you. No, you had chosen the holy path, where you were going to work on the sin within yourself. 

The Sacred Sisters of the Bleeding Heart. You’d made your way there only a few months ago, when you had finally figured out the reason that you had never appreciated the women who’d tried to offer their hands to you. 

You had thought it was a sin, but Mother Superior said otherwise, and offered to guide you through your understanding of yourself. This is natural, she told you, just as natural as any other sin. You just need to understand the way in which to act on it.

You took her to mean that you could feel it, but never act upon it. 

Turns out, as you’d find out, that wasn’t quite what she meant. 

Nuns were meant to be virgins, right? That’s always what you’d thought. And yet, the gardener seemed to enjoy the fruits of their virginity quite a bit. 

And no, you weren’t like that. Even if you were going to allow yourself the bending of the rules that they were enjoying, you didn’t want to do it with him. He, uh, wasn’t your type.

You mourned when he died, though, even if it wasn’t the same way that the sisters mourned. However, he was taken away, and not even a day later was there a new one. 

Whenever the sisters went for walks, you accompanied them. You were close friends with most of them, and enjoyed walking beyond the confines of the walls of the convent. 

And when they heard a tree branch crack, and found a man lying on the ground, you were the one who lifted him across your back and carried him back to the convent. They thanked you profusely, and then, as per the usual arrangement, stood guard at the door to make sure Mother Superior didn’t come by while they did whatever they wanted to do. 

First, they kneeled at his side, and slid up his tunic at his stomach. You couldn’t help but let your eyes slide to them, and whatever they were doing. 

Sister Andrea lowered her mouth to his stomach, right above the waistline of his pants, and even through the veil over your eyes, you could still pick up on the smooth muscle there. 

You tore your eyes away as a smile came to your face, listening to what they were whispering about. But you’d grown distracted, and only when her footsteps were right outside the door did you realize you’d failed in your job as lookout. 

You gave a quick whistle in warning to the sisters as Mother Superior crossed the threshold into the doorway. 

Deaf and dumb, hmm? Good for the sisters, they certainly were going to miss their gardener. You, not exactly- he was just a man, even if a gorgeous one. 

This gardener was certainly an improvement on his predecessor. Still, you weren’t going to lose the purity you’d cultivated. No man was worth it. 

Then again, he looked like that...

No, he was the gardener, and he indulged in all of the sisters, didn’t he? There weren’t other men like you. You couldn’t assume that he would even appreciate your attention. 

Wait, why were you wondering about that? Regardless of whether or not he’d want you, you couldn’t. You could not indulge. No. 

“A bit of sin is healthy!” Sister Catarina would tell you as she walked with you through the halls. “No one will think any less of you, dear.” 

“No, no,” you said, teasing your fingers through the sheer fabric of your veil. “It’s not- enjoy yourselves with him, but that’s not what I’d be interested in.” 

And you’re telling the truth, honestly. You’re not interested in him. You’re not!

You were wandering the garden one day, not long later, singing to yourself. You often did so, hearing your voice echo through the fields and off of the walls. Then appeared the gardener behind you, you only heard him thanks to his footsteps. 

You didn’t wear a full wrap like the sisters, just a veil over your shoulders that you sometimes pulled over your face. So he couldn’t have possibly thought you female- no, he knew. Still, he walked closer to you, and it seemed as though he was trying to ask you something.

He put his fingers in front of his mouth, and opened them as he pulled them forward. 

“No,” you said, shaking your head, “I wasn’t speaking.”

He cocked his head, then, as if asking what you were doing instead, if not speaking. 

How were you to explain singing to someone who could not hear?

Singing- it’s not just from the voice, though, is it? It’s deeper than that. Hoping to explain, you brought your hand over your heart, then trailed your fingers up your throat as well. Maybe he’d understand your meaning- that singing came from the heart, instead. 

He didn’t quite look like he understood. 

Slowly, you reached out, taking his hand into yours. Though there were rough patches at the base of each of his fingers, his palms were soft. You lifted it to your throat, knowing that the vibrations of your voice would feel different when you talked than when you sang. 

You swallowed, and felt your adam’s apple move against his hand. He took a hard breath before his eyes met yours. 

“This is what it feels like when I speak,” you said, both moving your fingers away from your mouth in the way that indicated speech, as well as holding his hand against you.

“And-” you pressed your hand to your heart, then drawing your fingers upward, past his knuckles, in the same motion you’d used to describe signing before. 

You started humming, at first, always finding it difficult to sing in front of others. After a moment of that, you started singing, a simple melody, the same you’d been singing before. You watched him, watched his eyes drift from his hand on your throat, to your lips, before catching your eyes as well. 

He nodded, after a moment, and you figured that he’d understood. You took your hand from his, and slowly he pulled away. You found yourself nearly missing the warmth of his hand around your neck, but pulled your mind from your thoughts before it went somewhere you wouldn’t be able to get it back from. 

Now more than ever, you had to be careful. It was one thing to think he was beautiful while admiring from afar, but now, now you had shared a moment with him. You’d sung to him, even if he hadn’t heard you. He’d put his hand on your neck, with long fingers and soft skin and fond eyes.

So now you had more to push to the back of your brain. You thought you were doing fine- until he was tossed out, for lying. Turns out, he wasn’t deaf and dumb at all. 

He sat outside the doors of the convent, leaning in the shade, hoping to maybe catch a ride. You appeared on the top of the wall, sitting down with your legs thrown over it. 

“So,” you said, making him look up at you. “You heard me, the whole time.” 

“Yeah,” he said, a small smile on his face.

“You heard me sing.” 

“Mhm.” He shifted his shoulders against the wall, tilting his head. You kept his gaze for a moment, then looked out across the path, and the forest. 

“So what now? Where do you plan to go?”

“Oh, I’ll find somewhere else. I’ll make my way.” He looked out, just the way you did, at the rustling green leaves. “And you? You’ll stay here?” Without an answer, you tipped your weight forward, dropping to the ground outside the walls, your white veil fluttering off of your shoulders and down to the dirt. 

“Nah,” you said with a bit of a smile, “I think I prefer it out here. White isn’t my color.” He laughed a bit, turning his feet to the side and making room for you on the step he was seated on. You took him up on the offer.

“I’m Lorenzo,” he said, finally giving you his name as he extended his hand to you. You took it, once again feeling the softness of his palm. 

“(Y/N),” you answered. 

“Well, (Y/N),” Lorenzo said, “You have a lovely voice.” You shook your head, turning your gaze away.

“I don’t sing in front of people, you know,” you said, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Which is, I guess,” Lorenzo said, pressing his feet flat to the wall beneath him, “why you sang in front of who you thought was deaf.” 

“How was I meant to know you were lying?” You accused, shoving his shoulder with more intention this time. 

“Oh, please!” He said, laughter working into his face, and lord, he was beautiful. “I’m dropped into a villa of beautiful women, and all I need to do is keep my mouth shut? Could you blame me?” 

“I guess not,” you said, shrugging quickly. “It’s not exactly to my taste.” 

“No?” Lorenzo asked, looking sideways at you. He gave you a quick glance, and though you looked up at the blue sky, you could nearly feel his gaze as it slid down over your collarbones. “What is to your taste, then?”

You shrugged, taking a deep breath. Were you about to admit it to him?

“Golden hair, strong shoulders, long legs.” You tried to force back a smile, looking down at your hands for a brief moment. “A man.” Before you could let yourself feel too vulnerable, you added- “Not a gardener, though.” 

There was a quick moment of silence between the two of you, and you wondered if you’d said something that surprised him. Would he be angry with you?

“I lean that way, sometimes,” he said with a laugh, resting his head back against the wall. “I can’t blame you.” 

You turned your head to him, and lord, you had always known he was beautiful. You’d always known. But now he was in front of you, and you weren’t so strongly fighting yourself anymore, and you knew that he was like you, at least a bit. 

So you bridged the gap, and kissed him. 

And you’d thought his hands were soft. His lips? His lips were perfect. His hands came up to your face, and one of them slipped around to your neck, keeping you close. You took your hands first to his ribcage, but as the kiss continued, they slid up to his back. 

When you broke away, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on him. Damn, he had beautiful hair. No wonder the sisters called him an angel. 

“So what now?” You asked again, still close, still his hands on you. “Where do you plan to go?” A smile quirked on Lorenzo’s face, and he lifted his hand to take his fingers through your hair, pushing it from your face. 

“I’ll make my way,” He said again, smiling. His smile turned wicked, briefly, as he added, “I don’t think I’m going to want to be a gardener, though.” You narrowed your eyes, wondering if- he couldn’t possibly be referencing what you said earlier. That you wouldn’t want a gardener. “And you?”

He hadn’t taken his hands from you. He hadn’t even moved his eyes from yours since he’d opened them. You’d let your eyes stray to him plenty of times while he was within the convent, and maybe you were projecting, but you didn’t think he looked at any of the sisters like that. 

“We’ll see.” 

-🦌 Roe

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Emp-Ire “The King.”

“I am starting to think that the oracle was screwing with us.”

“Silence!” One of the men barked, clapping Ramirez across the back of the head with an open palm. Ramirez jerked forward with a grunt of pain, and seeing that, Adam was having the sudden, sneaking suspicion that…. Everything wasn’t what it seemed to be.

At first, the whole thing had screamed of elaborate tourism. Let the tourists show up and think they are going on some cool quest, and then make them overpay to meet with some lady who was just super high, but the way these men were acting…

Adam was beginning to agree with Ramirez.

If their adventure as Sheriff’s deputies had been real then wasn’t there all the likelihood that this was real as well? Just because you show up to someplace exotic doesn't mean it was designed like that to amuse you. He wouldn’t take a hop and a skip over to Japan and just assume that the different customs there were an elaborate ploy to get money off of tourists….

Well maybe on Earth that sort of thing could totally happen, but looking at these men…. Their physiques, their clothing,their weapons, and the very real, point of their spears, he was becoming aware that maybe they had stumbled on something a lot more serious than they had first thought.

Shit.

He seemed to have a habit of doing things like that.

He glanced around at the small contingent of men who walked with them. As he had noticed before each and every one of them was absolutely shredded, not necessarily in the bodybuilder kind of way, but in a way that made it clear these guys never skipped leg day, arm, day or cardio. 

Adam and Ramirez were no slouches; by comparison, both of them hitting the gym at least five times a week for an hour at least, but in comparison?

And of course they didn’t hide it either. 

Each of the men carried a massive circular shield and spears taller than they were. They had on sandals with greaves and simple leather wraps, most of them were bare chested, though their commanding officer wore a breastplate, all of them wore helmets.

“Laconia!” 

His sudden exclamation startled the man as well as Ramirez, 

“Shit, I just realized why that sounded familiar.”

One of the men turned to look at his commanding officer, “I do not think they are Athenians, sir.” He glanced back at Adam, “Too dumb.”

The other men laughed at his expense. Adam frowned, “Sorry my knowledge of ancient greek geographical locations isn’t up to snuff.”

He was silenced with another slap to the head, and with his ears ringing and one eye fuzzy, he finally accepted that this was, in fact, not a joke. Somehow, for some reason that dumbass oracle had sent them out to get potentially sacrificed by a group of Neospartans, and he doubted they were going to be able to sue for damages.

It took almost the whole day to make it to “Sparta” itself, though he became aware of their approaching closeness when small dwellings began appearing on the edge of fields. It was only when he figured out that Spartans needed to eat too that he realized not ALL of them were going to be big buff badasses. Of course, that was until he saw the farmer pulling the plow, who was in fact Hercules’s cousin on his father Zeus’s side.

Okay so maybe things were a bit different.

He was under the impression back during the age of real Sparta, a lot of spartan citizens were just normal people and it was only a select few who were turned into warriors. Women, while they had some rights than in other places, were still expected to stay home and take care of things while the men were off at war. She had to be strong, but that was only because she was expected to raise spartan sons, or something like that. He couldn’t remember exactly how that sort of thing worked, he wasn’t a historian. For all he knew Spartan women were just as shredded as the men.

A truth that seemed apparent for thee spartans because, as they made it to the next little farming house, a woman turned to look at them and damn it was like the Amazons met the spartans. She wasn’t particularly tall by anyone’s standards, but she looked like did mixed martial arts for a living.

He had no doubt she could probably kick his ass.

Ramirez had gone rather silent as he looked around  nodding to himself every so often as they were dragged through the outlying villages and farms, and eventually up a set of stone steps leading into a city which was surrounded by lush medeteranian hills and grasslands on either side.

The city itself was no slouch either. It wasn’t as artistically expressive as New Athens had been, ut there was no shortage of statues, and interesting architecture. Walking down the street, everyone they met was shredded or well on their way to becoming so. The men, the women, everyone but the children.

He noticed a few differences from ancient histories, including but not limited to the fact that the women were just as armored as the men, the many races and ethnicities, and the strange assortment of modern day dogs that roamed the place, which he thought was a strange addition.

A line of marching soldiers passed by wearing their red and gold, and as they went Ramirez turned his head to follow them, “Welp, I am pretty sure I had a dream like this once.”

“Did you dream include us dying horribly?”

“Does being crushed between someone's thighs count?”

Adam sighed and rolled his eyes to the heavens, “how can you be thinking like that at a time like this?”

“How can you not, I am scared and way turned on and it is the most confusing feeling I have ever had in my life…. Aren't you just a little?”

Adam frowned and was surprised to find that, “No, he didn’t think so. He was JEALOUS of plenty of these men, but none of the men or women caught his eye in that way, at least he didn't think so.”

Ramirez stared at him and shook his head sadly.

“What?”

“Still thinking about your breakup huh?”

“No I’m not.”

“Quiet.” One of the men hissed raising a hand to backhand one of them, though he stopped as a voice called out from before them.

“Captain NIcos, you have returned from your patrol.”

It was a woman’s voice this time, and as they looked up an armored figure stepped down from the steps to the columned temple. She wore a bright golden breastplate, knee length red skirt and golden greaves and bracers. An attendant at her shoulder carried her Helm, though she kept hold of her spear and circular shield. She was at least six feet tall and had a body like the she hulk though her face was exceptionally beautiful as well, with large brown eyes and full lips. 

The man raised his spear to her, “Queen Xanthia.”

The man around them raised their spears as well.

She stepped forward over the stone, “What have you found here.” She used the tip of her spear to reach under Ramirez’s chin and tilt his head back, “Athenians?’

“They say they are ‘from Athens, but not “Athenian.” Captain Nicos said shoving Adam forward so he tripped and fell to his knees on the hard stone.

She grunted and turned her attention to him, tilting his head back to look at her, “Is this true, not-an-Athenian.”

He crinched away from the blade of her spear, “I’m Mericandian actually, Terran, Earthling.”

There were a couple grunts of surprise from around the group.

“Tourists.” Ramirez piped in.

Xanthia frowned, raising her chin, “And how did you end up on Laconia. We don’t encourage tourists here.” 

“Would you believe it if I said that asshole of an oracle sent us here.” He raised his hands, “We meant no disrespect of course, we just came here to see the sights and then leave.”

Ramirez nodded.

There was another muttering from the crowd. She had an eyebrow raised, “The oracle you say?”

The two of them nodded again, not sure where this was going.

She turned her head to Captain Nicos, “Keep a close eye on them, I will speak with the king”

She turned on her heels and walked off, passing through the double doors with a swish of her red cloak, leaving the two of them still kneeling on the rough stone.

They turned to look at each other in nervous confusion, not entirely sure where this was going. Overhead the sky had dimmed to a dull blue and torches were being lit all up the city streets. The young man who was doing the lighting had the look of a classic greek hero with tight curly hair and a body borrowed from a demigod.

The two of them didn’t say anything until the doors opened and the queen walked back out, “The king wishes to see the intruders.”

Two guards held the doors opened as they were forced to their feet and up the steps. The interior of the room was bare and blunt, no more than stone pillars and a single uncomfortable throne carved out of sharp marble blocks, on which sat the manliest man he had likely ever seen. Xanthia walked over and sat in the identical throne next to him, and together it seemed as if they were being pulled before the throne of the very gods themselves.

This man was godlike, but not the kind of overly muscled where he can't even touch his own head. This was probably what peak human performance looked like with a neatly shaved beard and thick dark hair. Adam glanced over at Ramirez again, to see the other man was nodding in great approval of this development. He turned his head back to the man who stood very slowly, his armor clinking. He wore a short sword on one hip and carried a spear in one hand, and when he moved, he moved with the grace of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, and where his body was at all times.

He walked down the steps and looked the two of them over with steely golden eyes, like those of a wolf.

His gaze fell on Adam for a long hard moment, “I see we have been graced by the presence of a foreign general.” He said turning back and stepping up the stone steps.

There was a murmuring in the room around them.

Adam blinked in surprise, “You know who I am.”

The Spartan king stood before his seat, but did not sit down, “Well of course.”

He held up his arm so Adam could see the scrolling holographic image across his wrist, “Just because I live like a spartan doesn’t mean I subjugate my life to not knowing what goes on in the universe. In fact as King it is my duty to know what important developments are being made in this galaxy.”

He turned his head to look at Adam ,”I am loyal to this galaxy and the ideals upon which humanity has befriended aliens.” He walked across the stone, “And you Admiral Vir  are an important linchpin in that model.”

He turned to wave a hand at Ramirez, “And of course I know a Marine when I see one.”

Another muttering from around the room.

So, this is sort of not what he expected. The Spartan king was well versed in intergalactic politics, and was no slouch intellectually either.

“So, you’ll let us go then.”

The man did not smile, but the way his eyes twinkled, almost menacingly did not give Adam much hope.

“Oh I never said that.” He turned and paced back in the other direction, “You see, Admiral, I have become aware of an unfortunate pattern in humanity’s political history, and this includes the fall of empires due to poor or weak leaders.” he turned on the spot, “I had given up hope in being able to influence the intergalactic stage, but finding you here has…. Given me an idea.”

Oh no.

“I want to see just what kind of men are being tasked with keeping this galaxy together. I want to know if you can do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done. I want to make sure that my people are in good hands, when their good is out of mine.”

“What are you talking about.”

“I want to make sure you are a brave leader, and that you can fight when is necessary.”

He made a motion with his hands and Ramirez was dragged off to the side.

A group of Spartans stepped up and grabbed Adam around the arms hauling him to his feet.

“Bring him to the training field.” The king said, and the group of men dragged him forward and out the doors.

Adam tried to protest but he was silenced as he was dragged from the doors, down the walkway and into a large lit arena with a sandy dirt floor. A large group of men were practicing here with their spears and shields, but cleared off as soon as an order was barked.

“What are you doing!” Adam demanded

“Consider this your greek trial, Admiral.” The king said taking his own spear and tossing it to Adam, who caught it in one hand, “Fight, and let’s see what you can do.” “But I-”

He was handed a shield, and then the group began to pull back.

The king stepped up onto the arena wall and paced down it’s length, “Lets see if you can beat one of my men first, and we will go from there.”

He motioned a hand and ordered one of the younger men forward. He couldn’t have been that old and was not nearly as well put together as the others, but he held his spear and shield with some confidence.

Ok…. this was going to get interesting.

He knew there was nothing he could do to stop them, so Adam dropped into a crouch.

The shield felt awkward and heavy on his arm, but the spear was a familiar weight. They circled for a short time before the boy came charging at him. He could see what the king was doing. This boy was young and had probably trained repeatedly in drills but had never sued weapons in practice..

He was meant to be easy to beat.

Adam stepped to the side and caught the boy’s foot sending him staggering away. Adam used the shield to knock him further off balance and sent him plowing into the dirt.

No one made a sound.

It wasn’t that impressive. That was SUPPOSED to be easy.

“So at least you have SOME training.” The king called. Overhead a shooting star crossed over the heavens. A crowd trickled onto the stands of the arena.

He motioned someone else forward. She too was young, but the set of her face and a scar down her right cheek showed that she had at least SEEN combat at some point. The way she eyed Adam told him that she knew what she was doing.

Her problem?

She was likely to set i nher fighting abilities, not creative enough. He traded a couple of strikes with her, gaging her ability before making his move. He used his shield as a distraction to cover some of his movement so she couldn't see, and then sent a lightning fast jab. He struck a hit hard on the side of her helmet sending her plowing to the Arena floor.

Still no one made a sound.

The king nodded slowly and motioned someone else forward.

This man was an actual soldier, though likely no great shakes, but at least he knew what he was doing. Adam ended up in a sharp flurry of contact before the shield got in his way and he almost took a hard blow to the shoulder , even so he ended up with a delicate cut along the side of his cheek. It was only by way of quick thinking that he was able to duck under one of the swipes and kick the man hard in the sternum. He went flailing back into the dirt, and Adam couldn’t help but whisper to himself.

“And this is sparta bitch.”

The kind paced around him in a wide circle, “So, someone has trained you in the use of the spear.”

Adam growled, “I was trained to fight aliens with four arms, so you are going to have to try harder.”

The king smiled, “Confidence…. Always a good sign. But the shield, I think you have not been trained to use one of those.”

Adam paused nodded, and then threw the shield to the ground kicking it away.

He took the spear up in two hands, in a distinctly different style from the spartans, “Well, come on then.”

WIth the shield gone and his switch back to using a spear like he had been trained he defeated the next three challenges with relative impunity. It was only when the king stared adding extra fighters did Adam struggle.

They clashed hard, Adam ducking dodging and sometimes jumping over swings from his opponents. He dived into the dirt, rolled onto his back and caught two spears as they hurtled down at him. He kicked one in the side of the knee and he went down. Adam lunged for the hit, spun on the spot and caught the second spear as it came down for him again. He brought the but of his spear up and hit the woman in the face before spinning back in the other direction, dodging an oncoming jab and slammed his spear into the back of his opponent’s head sending them sprawling to the ground.

He was breathing heavily now but he could see and hear some of the men and women muttering in surprise.

The king nodded, “This is heartening, I must say. It seems as if our leaders CAN fight.”

Someone was motioned forward and he was handed a rag to wipe his face and a canteen of water. He drank greedy wiping his mouth and tossing the leather skin back to the young woman who had brought it to him.

“But I think I do see one deficiency.”

He took a waiting spear from one of his followers, waved off a shield and stepped into the ring.

Men and women all around the circle leaned forward in anticipation. Adam readied himself.

The king stepped forward.

Adam could already tell this wasn;t going to be easy.

He was already tired, the kind was fresh.

But still he was ready, the two men circled and then Adam lunged forward in the way the Drev had taught him, The king batted it away and they made an exchange. The man didn’t try to attack him, but seemed content on seeing what Adam could do. Their engagement must have lasted for thirty minutes as they clashed, the king slowly escalating over that time. The longer they went the more energized the other man became. Adam thought if he could just hold out until the other man grew tired as well, then maybe he would have an upper hand.

But it never happened.

Adam gasped for air.

Even after what must have been thirty minutes of continual engagement, the other man only seemed to be breathing steadier and more deeply. All together they had been fighting longer and harder than all of the other previous engagements put together, and still the man was not tired. Adam watched as the man specifically did not take openings that should have killed Adam.

He knew he was trying to make some sort of point.

Adam was breathing in ragged gasps now. He had never been so tired in all his life, he came in for a lunge he knew was sloppy, and his spear was kicked from his hand. A sandals foot hit him in the chest and he went down choking. The king stood over him nodding, “I am impressed by your skill” He turned and waved to the crowd, “You could match any man or woman here hand to hand in a fair fight, but you do have one deficiency.”

Adam gulped and panted.

The king crouched next to him, “No stamina.”

He stood again, “You train with my men tomorrow, and so does your marine. We will make Spartan’s out of you yet!”

Adam gasped coming to his knees, “Wait… but I-”

“You came here for vacation, and I am sorry to inform you that will not be so. You will not be leaving until I am satisfied our galaxy is in the Best hands.”

Adam stood crawling to his feet with great effort.

The king even smiled at him this time, which seemed strange to him somehow. He held out a hand and Adam took it, “A pleasure to fight with you Admiral, I am James king of the Spartans.”

Adam frowned, “James?’ Not Kyros or something?”

“I was born in the northern provinces of Mericanda, of course I don’t have a greek name.”

He clapped Adam on the shoulder and then walked off joined by his queen and their entourage as he shouted orders vanishing into the night.

Adam stared after him.

So, the king of Sparta was Canadian? 

[mmvalentine]

Will you do an Acotar scene lift from Rhys’s perspective under the mountain in between the trials? We only get vague mentions of what happens because of the wine Freyre and I think it would just be really interesting to see Rhys’s perspective. I love your writing btw it always makes me smile to see you’ve posted something ❤️

My darling let me tell you I really struggled with this, because these scenes hurt me a lot. Re-reading the scenes, it seems like Feyre spends the whole time really sick and wondering what happened while she was drugged and practically dissociating. BUT, I persist because I know you've been following for a while, and I so appreciate your support and wanted to make you something. I hope this is okay, it's not exactly the steamy stuff I usually write but it's my interpretation of what was going on (and let's be honest, my way of making sense of why Rhys was making not the best decisions).

In Between

Feyre was in danger. Again.

Aramantha's guards were dogs, and I wasn't surprised by this, but it was exhausting. Every time I turned my back there was something they were up to- taunting Feyre, giving her impossible tasks, threatening to torture her. As if being locked in a cell Under The Mountain wasn't bad enough.

I wasn't too proud to admit that I had become quite attached to the little human slip of a thing. She was so small, so fragile, so mortal. And yet here she was, a thorn in Aramantha's side the way that I... I couldn't be. Not if I wanted her eyes far away from Velaris.

So there I was, living vicariously through a human girl and secretly rooting for her like it's the only way I can defy Aramantha. I suppose it is.

For the last few nights, I'd taken to walking past the cell block to listen in on the guards. Nothing too alarming was happening for the first couple of days, but now that the next task was nearing, they had new orders. I was torn between exasperation that Feyre seemed to constantly be in peril, and a spark of interest. If Aramantha was trying to get Feyre killed between tasks, it meant some part of her was truly afraid she'd win. And I liked the idea of Aramantha afraid.

But the immediate situation on hand was that the guards were going to make her remove the salt from a high fae's bathwater, or else they'd pull the teeth out of her head.

For Cauldron's sake.

I would have thought it better for Feyre to sit quietly in her cell and be forgotten. At least she'd get a moment's peace between Aramantha's tasks. But in fact it seemed that Aramantha did not mean her to make it to the next task, and no one was watching her schemes.

So.

I'd have to keep an eye on her myself.

But how to do so, when I was also expected at Aramantha's revels every night? I'd just have to bring her with me.

If Under the Mountain was modeled after the Court of Nightmares, then at least I knew the rules of the game. I knew how to make people notice her.

And so the next night, before the guards could get to her again, I sent in spies to make sure she was going to be fit for a Nightmare revel. They brought clothes- but they were barely clothes. She'd be ripped apart in seconds with that much bare skin. Think, think.

There was one other way to cover skin. In the Illyrian tradition, with ink. I was sure enough of my reputation with the court that no one would risk touching her I was sure to find out. Okay. So Cerridwen and Nuala would paint her every bare patch of skin, and then no one could touch her.

The night of the revel arrived, and when I went to collect Feyre, she was trying to tear off her dress. Alarm flashed through me. Fool that I am, I hadn't considered the fact that of course she would loathe this role. Humans have such a low tolerance for wickedness.

"I wouldn't do that," I said from the doorway. Not willing to risk coming any closer, and scaring her into a panic.

"Our bargain hasn't started yet," she snapped. Hate flashed in her eyes, and I thought- good. She should hate me. I was Aramantha's whore, right? Fine. Better angry than scared. Better angry than vulnerable.

"Ah, but I need an escort for the party," I told her. Besides, I needed her haughty for the revel. Anything less, and they'd lose interest. "And when I thought of you squatting in that cell all night, alone..." Her eyes glazed hard, and her lips thinned. Perfect. "You look just as I hoped you would."

"Is this necessary?" she hisses at me, gesturing to the paint and silk ensemble.

"Of course," I say, letting cold soak into my voice. "How else would I know if anyone touches you?" To demonstrate, I ran a finger through the paint on her shoulder, and watched the paint fix itself. "The dress won't mar it, and neither will your movements," I told her. She needs to understand. "And I'll remember precisely where my hands have been. But if anyone else touches you- let's say a certain High Lord who enjoys springtime- I'll know."

But this was a serious point. I knew she'd want to go straight to him- Cauldron knows why, Tamlin is an insufferable pup- but I knew what she want. And I knew Tamlin had not a scrap of wit about him and would give it to her. And then Aramantha would tear us all to shreds. So.

I flicked her little upturned nose, noticing suddenly the smattering of freckles there and nearly getting distracted, and fed her the line I knew would stick. "I don't like my belongings tampered with."

If looks could kill, as they say in the Human realm.

"Come," I said. "We're already late."

Of course, that was entirely intentional. I needed all eyes on us- on her as we walked in the room. And indeed every head turned, some bowed but most just gawked at Feyre. We walked al the way to the dais, and stood before Aramantha. And Tamlin.

I'd once told Feyre that I'd wait to tell Tamlin about our little bargain. Wait until the right time. No point in exciting him into a rage while everything hung in the balance, I thought. Then again, if it were my beloved in Aramantha's cells... rage would not be an adequate word. But that was another reason I thought very little of the High Lord of Spring. Maybe a little rage would do him some good.

"Merry Midsummer," I said, bowing to Aramantha. Every time I did it, I wanted to vomit on her feet.

"What have you done with my captive?" she said, displeasure darkening in her eyes. Her tone was light, though, and I knew she'd not make a fuss in front of all these people.

"We made a bargain," I said. "One week with me at the Night Court every month in exchange for my healing services after her first task." I raised her arm to reveal the tattoo, dull next to the shining paint. "For the rest of her life."

I couldn't help it. I stared straight at Aramantha, and knew she understood my words. You tried to have her killed and I helped her. I see life beyond this mountain. I think she's going to win. It was only the thought of my family back home that prevented me from spitting the words in her face.

"Enjoy my party," was her only reply. And Tamlin? Tamlin did nothing. Didn't stir, just gripped the arms of the throne like the useless fuck he was.

I led Feyre away, and wondered if she was going to make it through the night. There was a lot of performing to be done, by both of us, if I was going to keep her out of the cells and away from the guards until the next task. Then my eyes lighted on the feasting table.

"Wine?" I offered Feyre a goblet. The perfect solution- if she drank the wine, she wouldn't have to act. Even more merciful- she wouldn't have to remember. But she shook her head.

I smiled, knowing that it did not make up for the cruel games I'd be playing this whole time. Knowing it'd do little to comfort her. "Drink. You'll need it." As much of the truth as I could tell her. Drink, I begged, kneeling at the doors of her mind.

"No," she said, and I gritted my teeth. Pushed against those doors, the flimsy shields that were far too easy to step through. I'm sorry, Feyre. I'm so sorry.

"Drink," I said, and her fingers latched onto the goblet.

As soon as the wine was gone, Feyre's body went loose. I caught her up in my arms, and her eyes were vacant. It horrified me. It was perfect.

I led her to a table and sat her down in my lap, scanning the crowd and knowing that fae all around the room were still watching us. I reached for my own goblet, and wished I could forget, too.

"Dance, Feyre," I said, as she started to slump in my lap. That would not do.

She stood unsteadily to her feet, right between my knees, and swayed to the music. Lifted her arms, trailed her hands down the sides of her breasts, and closed her gold-lidded eyes as she moved.

In any other setting, she might have been exquisite.

Here, she was hollow. She wasn't in her body, there was just a dress and some paint. And I wondered if she would ever forgive me for this. I doubted it.

A High fae came up to us, stood behind Feyre and started to dance with her. Feyre turned to him, reached for him. I grabbed her arms, and smoothed them back down to her sides.

"Mine," I growled at the fae, and his eyes narrowed, but he backed away. Cauldron. This was going to be my entire evening.

I let her dance until she started to flag, and then I set her carefully back in my lap. Couldn't let her sit anywhere else, couldn't let her out of my sight. Not like this. Not in this state.

And then when she started to droop again, I got her up to dance. Up down, dance, sit. Up again. A whole fucking routine that made me want to blow my brains out. The only upside was that Tamlin kept his eyes on us the whole time, and hated every moment. And yet still, he didn't move from his throne. Delightful.

When finally the night started down and everyone was disappearing to either their own beds or someone else's, I led Feyre back to her cell. Let her collapse on the pallet and sleep off the wine. By the time I got back to my own room, the self-loathing was enough to choke on.

But Feyre had made it through the night alive.

And if this is what it took to get her through to the second task, then I could keep doing it. After all. What was a handful of nights are fifty years Under the Mountain?

****

Agh I really don't know if this is worth anything, but I hope you get something out of it dearest, and if you don't you can always send me a different scene and I'll try again if I can x