#i'm only not sure if she has the patience for being a healer in practice HDHDJFHFJDJD
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I briefly talked about this with Liri for her fantasy verse! Jinluo is basically a Nurse Joy NPC who would pop in the starting city/town to sell healing based items and foods in her pharmacy, but then somehow would pop out in another - same person and all (instead of being another identical Joy), maybe with little changes to the shop exterior. If you buy a dozen of healing potions from her, you will get an additional bonus meatbun or rice cake that can heal you for 500 HP--
#but would she join in an adventure as a healer someday? ...maybe#she does have a knack for it but she'd rather stay behind in her pharmacy#if she was a x.iv character i think she'd be a sage-alchemist hybrid tho#i'm only not sure if she has the patience for being a healer in practice HDHDJFHFJDJD#★ — 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠. ( ooc )
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My WIP is currently called 'Shiki Matoba' or 'Came Back Wrong AU,' but I should really call it 'the situation specifically designed in a in a lab to give every single character an ongoing ethics crisis.'
Oh, Hiragi becoming Natori's shiki makes you uncomfortable, Natsume? You hate it when yokai eat each other? Even if it's natural?
Well tough: in this AU, Natori fucked up and turned Matoba into an ayakashi, and he's Natori's shiki now. And he has to eat either human blood or other ayakashi to live. His old clan is also constantly trying to kidnap him, but he swears he's not upset with them OR Natori.
Natori - you had qualms about working with the Matoba clan? Too bad: Matoba nearly died because of YOUR attempted murder, and you're the only one who can maintain your flubbed healing spell to keep him alive. As an ayakashi, now bound to a family no sane yokai will make a contract with.
Speaking of the Matoba family: how are things with the new shiki? The one with internalized ayakashi-ism and undying loyalty?
For bonus points: the eye stealing yokai will accept an eye from the Matoba clan head's personal shiki as payment. So Matoba can have some guilt over choosing the clan and his father's wishes over his father's health and life. As a treat.
And potentially every clan head after can have the temptation of a way to save their own skin at the cost of the clan's power.
Aaaand now Matoba's father's dead, and Matoba's refusing to become the new clan head's (not Shinoubu) shiki for *totally irrational ayakashi reasons* he swears. He just had an oopsie 'accidentally psychically manipulate your only healer/ confessed hopeless crush/ rival clans member into making a contract with you in a blind panic' moment for no reason.
The entire Matoba clan gets a moral quagmire there: the new clan head is a little sus, but ayakashi ARE irrational and their special little ayakashi was really upset about Shinobou being passed over for clan head. Is it really okay to leave him unsupervised with his only healer/ confessed hopeless crush/ rival clans member?
But also, they need Natori to keep him alive. So they can't take the nuclear option, or even cut him off and risk any of their enemies killing him either. Surely gently kidnapping Matoba and "helping him come to his senses" is the best option here- they can burn the clan head bridge if they need to after he's home. (Opinions on the necessity, practicality, and greater good of the last part vary. Civil war is a distinct possibility.)
Meanwhile: Matoba wrestles with the guilt of forcing Natori to give him his blood to eat when there's a secret third option he's just being an *irrational ayakashi* about.
Hiragi, Urihime, and Sasago have background ick about the inappropriate master/ shiki behavior (Urihime and Sasago more than Hiragi, though even she finds the literal just sleeping together weird.)
Takuma has STRONG FEELINGS about letting the little shit turned ayakashi who *psychically manipulated his mentee into a giant clusterfuck* into his house. But he also doesn't have any better ideas, and isn't about to cut off his formal apprentice (mandated after the healing spell fiasco.)
Yorishima has NO INTEREST and NO RESPONSIBILITY in helping resolve any of this mess, thank you very much. Even if he has some unique insight into complicated human-ayakashi healing.
I'm softballing Tanuma- he gets to have his cute lil teenage friend worries about being curious when Natsume's very firmly steering him away from ever knowing WTF's going on with Natori and his really friendly shiki.
Nishimura, like. Feels really conflicted about his *dead certainty* that his favorite idol and the idol's chronically ill friend are a couple. They say they're just friends- is it an invasion of their privacy to insist otherwise? Is he minimizing the depths of male friendship by insisting there must be more?
(The universe is testing Kitamoto's patience, not his morality, with Nishimura's fandom nonsense.)
I go by manga timeline, so Sasada is Sir Not Appearing In This Book, the canon divergence blissfully parting around her.
Taki's deal is still percolating- I have to do *something* with her two degrees of separation from the Matoba clan, but I don't know what.
I don't think Nyanko-sensei's getting any extra *ethical* issues- he doesn't care that much about ethics in the first place. Just external pressure to become Natsume's formal shiki since the exorcist community isn't as blasé about powerful, self-taught kids after The Fuck Up.
I'm fighting the "why do the Fujiwara's let their 15 yo relative stay overnight with a 23 yo idol?" angle kicking and screaming, but its gravitational pull is starting to look inescapable. Matoba became undead an ayakashi at 18, if he's strong enough to have a human form (which. ofc he is) there are going to be QUESTIONS about why he's living with an idol who looks five years older than him.
(Yes, Matoba has a driver's license stating he is 22- no it doesn't help with the scrutiny. There is just some inevitable speculation and conclusions about the chronically ill NEET who never uses his last name due to "family issues" who lives with the idol who got PTSD from saving his life.)
I actually do have an ending in mind, though I'm going to let canon developments lead the way.
OC Matoba clan head eventually dies "naturally," as Matoba clan heads do, and Shinoubu takes over.
This leads to a shakeup regarding prejudice against "weak" exorcists. (You don't need spiritual powers to politic, or very much to dodge a giant blob and open an umbrella. She IS a little evil (pending contradiction by further developments in canon), but hardly the worst.) Someone points out the "eye of the Matoba clan head's shiki" loophole due to this lack of trust, and the Matoba clan approves the "loan" of a shiki to the now closely-associated Natori clan.
Yorishima's expertise does bear fruit, so Matoba is expected to eventually fully recover. (But remain an ayakashi.) In Matoba's POV, this is the happy ending- he gets to live with Natori for the rest of Natori's life, and he has a formal way to escape future conflict with the grab-bag of Matoba clan heads.
But he's getting stronger- able to maintain his human form for longer, and make more changes to it.
So Shuuichi suggests leaving the industry- taking his still active identity, and living as a human. To not be anyone's shiki.
(Natori CANNOT have a romantic relationship with a subordinate. Nope, nope, nope. Absolutely not. Especially after their specific experiences. But just being an ayakashi isn't a deal breaker.
However, his world view values freedom and independence, so he'd suggest the idea anyways.)
(Matoba might not be able to return to the clan after a disavowal of that magnitude. The clan will definitely never trust him again.)
There'd be an epilogue from Natsume's POV revealing Matoba's decision, directly echoing whatever the canon ending of Natsume's Book of Friends does.
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Hi! So I’m a nurse and my husband doesn’t like anyone helping him but me and I find it oddly romantic. I was wondering if maybe you could do a story where the princess is also a trained healer and Aemond comes home from war with an injury that he should have had a Maester look at but he only wants his wife touching him 🥹 like nothing super life threatening but perhaps she’s cleaning one of his scrapes and he’s feeling her up and she swats his hand away playfully and says “no feeling up the healer” with a teasing grin and he’s like it’s why I fell in love with you in the first place, you take such good care of me and other people and I just 🥹
I love this idea! I sort of took liberties with these requests and did a short story based on the idea of Aemond and Y/N having unspoken feelings for one another till this point. Aemond has been closed off to Y/N for a while now and it takes him falling down a flight of stairs for him to open up.
Aemond x reader | taking care of an injured Aemond | healer!reader
"Hold still Aemond."
"I'm perfectly fine."
"Oh really?" You glanced skyward, uttering a silent prayer for patience as the silver-haired prince shifted uncomfortably in your grasp. "What if I put pressure here?"
Aemond cursed, trying to yank his arm away from your touch. "Gods be damned, Y/N! Why would you do that?"
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" You quirked an eyebrow at his scowling face. "You sure took a tumble. Did Aegon really put up that much of a fight?"
Aemond shrugged in response, wincing as he gazed into the flames of the sitting room fireplace. You resumed applying healing salve to the quickly blossoming bruises on the shoulder and arm where he'd landed.
"Are you in much pain?" You tried reading his stoic expression, the prince avoiding your eyes resolutely.
"I have the blood of dragons running through my veins." Aemond sniffed. "Pain is a foreign-ouch!"
You looked up at him from under your brows. "You were saying?"
"I don't need you fussing over me, Y/N."
You sighed, wrapping the worst of his injuries as best you could manage. "I insist Aemond." You sat back on your heels from where you knelt next to him on the floor. "Where else does it hurt?"
"I've already told you..." Aemond's lilac eye found yours at last, his lips pouting slightly. "I need no assistance; I am perfectly capable of dealing with this myself."
"You don't have to be alone Aemond." You spoke the words before truly registering their meaning, they lingered heavily in the air between you and the prince.
Aemond was silent, his eye flickering over your face from your eyes to your mouth and back.
"My ankle." He said, finally breaking the loud silence. "I don't imagine I can put much pressure on it."
You hesitated, looking at him for permission before rolling up the pantleg where he was indicating. His ankle was indeed swollen, the injury attempting to shield itself from further trauma. When you grazed your fingers lightly along the bruised skin Aemond flinched away and hissed through his teeth.
"I don't think it's broken, thankfully." You measured the set of the bone with practiced eyes. "Though you should elevate it."
You grabbed several pillows, creating a raised cushion for Aemond to rest his foot upon at the end of the couch. "I'll need you to lie down."
Aemond looked you over once before nodding curtly. "Very well." He allowed you to help guide his leg atop the pillows, scooting back so he lay prone upon the sofa.
You tried your best to not become overly distracted by the way his hair fell like a silken waterfall over the edge of the couch or the way his long fingers clasped together atop his abdomen as he watched your movements closely.
You gingerly began smoothing ointment onto the swollen skin of his ankle, Aemond grunting in pain as he attempted to keep still for you.
"What was that about being 'fine' and not needing help?" You teased, giggling as Aemond grumbled in protest.
"Perhaps I miscalculated slightly."
You shook your head, a fond smile tugging your lips as you continued tending his injuries. After you had finished wrapping his ankle you sat back to admire your work.
"Why do you ask for me?" You asked, breaking the comfortable silence. "Whenever you're injured you send for me. Why?"
Aemond sat up on his forearms the better to observe you. He took a short breath. "I trust you." Such simple words seemed to cost him a great deal and he looked away, pursing his lips.
"I'm honored." There was no sarcasm in your voice, and your face was open and honest when Aemond's eye snapped back to look at you.
You moved up to where a bruise was beginning to darken his collarbone, keenly aware of his breath on your hands. You made the mistake of looking him in the eye, his scorching gaze causing the air to stop catch in your throat. Your fingers stilled atop his warm flesh, Aemond's hand rose to gently trace the inside of your wrist and forearm. You held his intent gaze, unaware that you were leaning into him until you felt the tickle of his breath on your lips.
"I'm sorry." You snapped back to attention, jerking away from him, trying to regain composure of your flaming cheeks.
"Don't be." Aemond's voice was coarse, his hand found the back of your neck, pulling until you yielded.
He guided you close once more, brushing his lips against your own carefully, as if handling something delicate, afraid it would break. He seemed to be waiting for you to give him permission, lingering with his mouth barely touching your sensitive skin.
You nuzzled your nose against his, pressing further into him, giving him your acceptance as you deepened the kiss. Your mind was lost to bliss, feeling his mouth moving against yours, the wetness of his tongue skimming the swell of your bottom lip. He nipped gently at you until you opened to him, allowing him to explore you, his tongue languidly entwining with your own.
Your hand touched the bruise on his shoulder and Aemond pulled away with a short huff of pain, the spell of your embrace broken like a soap bubble.
"Gods, I am sorry." You shook your head as if that would help clear it.
"Stop apologizing, Y/N." Aemond rasped a short chuckle, sweeping his fingers through his hair, moving it off his face.
Blushing furiously, still feeling the fresh memory of his lips, you tried to refocus on applying the last of the salve to his injuries.
Aemond's hands began to wander, caressing their way along your arms and tracing your sides down to your waist. There was a small smile playing on his plush lips as he watched your face, drinking in your reactions with relish.
"I do love those little gasps you make when I touch you, Y/N." His hands came to rest purposefully atop your hips. "You've always had little tells."
You batted away his searching hands as they sought lower along your body. "No feeling up the healer, Aemond."
Aemond gave you an aggrieved look, but his hands fell away from you all the same. You immediately missed their warmth.
"I'm glad my feelings were so obvious to you." You finished dressing his injuries, corking the bottle of salve and setting it aside before giving him your full attention. "Why make me wait so long? I thought you were indifferent to me."
Aemond shifted, clasping your hand and tugging you closer. "You asked me yourself why I always send for you when in need of a healer, Y/N." He tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I am ill accustomed to letting people close." His eye followed the movement of your lips slowly parting as you registered his words. He brought your hand closer, placing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "You mend broken things. Perhaps that is why you are drawn to me as well."
"You aren't broken Aemond." He snorted and turned his head, you tucked your finger against his chin, guiding him back to look at you. "Not to me."
Aemond seemed caught between a sneer and a laugh, his eye becoming glassy as he looked at a point over your shoulder. He did not speak for quite some time, the two of you lapsing into silence as you both fought with your emotions.
"Stay with me tonight." He spoke softly, almost a whisper.
"Aemond..."
"I don't have nightmares when you're with me."
You didn't know what to say, your brow furrowing as you read the unguarded expression on Aemond's face. Slowly you nodded, "Would you like me to remove this?"
Your fingers traced the leather band of his eyepatch, but Aemond flinched away. "No." He said shortly, taking a steadying breath before trying to smile. "No, I will be alright with it on."
You didn't press the issue, disliking the sudden tension your suggestion had brought. "Tell me more about the dragons."
Aemond's lips twitched. "Where did we leave off last time?"
"You were expounding on Balerion the Black Dread."
"Oh yes, I remember you were quite fond of hearing about him." Aemond's thumb traced circles to the back of your hand as he began retelling stories of the great dragon, his eye alight with the fervor only speaking of his passions brought.
You listened, spellbound, asking questions as they came into your mind. The two of you leaning into one another, equally entranced by the other's presence.
You had unwittingly fallen for a dragon and only fate would decide if you ended up being protected or burned.
Either way you were on fire.
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