#judgements cast too quickly

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Foxglove and Oleander.

Pairing: Yandere!Sukuna x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 6.0k

Commissioned by the very lovely @letstalktea.

TW: Heian Era AU, Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Blood + Violence, Deliberate Manipulation, Obsessive Behavior, and Implied Cannibalism.

Sukuna first arrived the night your chrysanthemums bloomed.

That was the only reason you weren’t in the temple when the fire reached it. Against your better judgement and the wishes of your superiors, you’d committed yourself to spending the night in the courtyard, carefully monitoring each delicate bud as they slowly unfurled and stained your garden with scattered blotches of bright, bleeding scarlet. In the morning, it would be your responsibility to gather each flower, dry their petals, and deliver them to the temple’s healers to use as medicinal herbs before you were allowed to get to your less seasonal chores, but tonight, the chrysanthemum belonged to you.

From your little corner of the courtyard, you watched as flames climbed the side of the side of the mountain, consuming the forest that surrounded your home before latching onto the servants’ barracks, then the outer sanctuaries, before finally reaching the main body of the temple. There were a few screams to accompany the fire’s first arrival, but they were quickly drowned out by the fire’s deafening roar, by the sound of buildings already mostly burnt away collapsing into themselves and putting their unfortunate occupants out of their misery. You could feel the heat, hear the others begin to flee, but it was only as the fire reached the peak of its gluttony that he emerged, entirely unscathed and painted with the blood of those you supposed you may have cared about, if you’d had more time. Sukuna, although you wouldn’t know to call him by that name, just yet.

It went without saying that he was hideous. Too many limbs, too many eyes, too many mouths – every part of him distorted with bulk and muscle and ink. His teeth struck you first, bared and glinting in the blinding firelight, then his clothing, the tattered and charred remains of what appeared to be a once fine kimono tied around his waist. He was carrying a spear, but he drove it into the ground as he stepped out of the inferno. There was something slung over his shoulder, too – a corpse, male and burnt beyond the point of recognizability – but that was abandoned just as thoughtlessly, left to rot on the outskirts of your garden. You were glad. Your chrysanthemums wouldn’t survive being crushed by such dead weight.

He didn’t notice you immediately. You stayed where you were, kneeling in the dirt, as he turned in either direction, taking in the devastation with a full-chested laugh. The noise was, in kinship with his appearance, unspeakably gruesome.  

Finally, he turned to face you, his eyes lighting up in spite of the stark shadows cast over his face. His spear was still within arm’s reach, but he made no attempt to retrieve it – holding out an open hand to you, instead. “Are you a monk or a maiden?” he asked, his voice more of a growl than anything proper, anything human. “I’ve already had my fill of the former, tonight.”

“A servant,” you answered, bowing your head by way of greeting. “I tend the gardens, among other things. Are you the one killing all the acolytes?”

“Among other things.” His tone had a mocking lilt, although he seemed far from vicious. You’d been warned about that, once, by someone very dear to you. You couldn’t remember the specifics, but the sentiment was still clear enough. ‘Do not fear the animal that bares its teeth, but the creature who lures you closer before it lunges’, or something like that. “I’m afraid I only have a taste for holy meat, tonight. Although, if you run, I’ll certainly take more enjoyment in striking you down.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but—”

“Lord,” he corrected. “Make that mistake again and it’ll be the last time I allow you the privilege of using your tongue.”

“My apologies, my lord.” Again, you bowed your head. “The high priest can be harsh with his discipline. My ankle is still healing, and I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough for either of us to get very much out of it.”

He grinned, and the fire raged on behind him. “Grovel, then. Perhaps, if you manage to please me, I’ll be merciful and kill you quickly.”

He was clearly a man (man? monster? beast?) of great ego. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to block out the taste of something harsh and acidic rising up from the back of your throat. “If it’s all the same to you,” you managed, eventually, sparing one last glance towards your chrysanthemums. They really were beautiful. You could only regret that you’d never get to see them in the light of day. “I’d really rather not. It seems like it be easier, to just… uh, let you get the job done, as it were.”

In his defense, his pride overshadowed his shock. That, or you simply weren’t the first person he’d met to pay your own life such little regard. “I’ve cut down braver men for bolder suggestions.”

“But you cut them down all the same.” You swallowed, dryly. It’d been a while since you’d last had anything to eat or drink – the better part of a day, at least – but you supposed you wouldn’t have to worry about that for much longer. “I’m sorry, my lord. I would try to run, but my ankle really does make things difficult.”

He regarded you for a moment, as yet another wing of the temple buckled under its own weight. You decided, as you stared back at him, that his eyes weren’t so terrible – the pair he was supposed to have, at least. Although currently narrowed and creased around the edges, they had a pleasant color, a unique shade of red that seemed to glow when it caught the firelight. At least one part of him was bearable to look at.

Finally, he broke the silence, his resonant voice taking on a more authoritative cadence. “Come.”

He didn’t extend a hand, or gesture for you to follow, only trekking onward – towards the temple’s gates, left open in the panic of the exodus.  Gingerly, weary of your injured ankle, you pushed yourself to your feet and hastened to his side. Sukuna only paid you glance by way of acknowledgement, but you didn’t mind. “Are you going to kill me in the woods, instead?”

“Uraume’s been asking for another set of hands.” You weren’t sure what he was talking about, but you nodded as if you understood entirely. He spared you a small, thoughtless smile, and you decided that he was also the type of man who often enjoyed the luxury of never being questioned. “If they don’t care for you, I’ll kill you wherever I wish.”

“Ah.” You passed under the temple gates by his side. Not long after that, you heard the great crash of stone into earth, and knew that those, too, had collapsed. “I hope it’s somewhere with lots of flowers. I’ve always wanted to die somewhere beautiful.”

His only answer was another, more lingering glance in your direction, a low bark of a laugh. Satisfied, you let the conversation lapse into silence and walked into the night by the side of a monster.

~

“How do you choose where to go?”

He didn’t respond, not immediately. Instead, one of his spare hands brought yet another grape to your lips, and with a pleased hum, you accepted it, savoring the sour tinge that accompanied the sweetness. From what you gathered, he preferred savory to sweetness, sweetness to bitterness, and bitterness to all other flavors that followed. He rarely ate anything that wasn’t the strange, ambiguous meat prepared by Uraume, his ever-smiling mastress of rituals, but the last village you’d passed through had a surplus of fruit. It’d seemed like a waste to let all of it rot, now that there was no one left to enjoy it.

It was strange – traveling with Sukuna and Uraume. They seemed to be on a pilgrimage of sorts, the destination unknown and the purpose one of endless carnage. Not that either of them expected you to participate in the devastation. No, as far as you could tell, you were regarded more as a servant, meant to be of aid to Sukuna when Uraume was otherwise occupied. Except, Uraume never seemed to be very occupied at all, and Sukuna very rarely needed aid, and you were often left in a position more akin to that of a pet than anything else – kept around predominantly because Sukuna found it entertaining to do so. Not that you minded. Pets were cherished and coddled. Pets never went hungry. Pets weren’t expected to be anything other than endearing and obedient, which wasn’t totally dissimilar to the things you were always expected to be, regardless of what you were supposed to call yourself.

Currently, you were taking shelter in an abandoned shrine not quite dilapidated enough to be considered unlivable, Uraume tending the hearth while Sukuna stared absent-mindedly at a map pilfered from the shine’s stockroom, the colored ink nearly too faded to read. You paid little mind to either of them – content enough to remain sprawled across Sukuna’s lap, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. This was the first time you’d spoken in minutes, reluctant to break the comfortable silence. Sukuna didn’t seem to mind the sound of your voice, and you didn’t want that to change. “I don’t,” he admitted, eventually. He only spoke for himself, but it was given that you and Uraume would follow. “I go where I please. I only like to know that, when I arrive, there’ll be something worth my time waiting to receive me.”

“So particular, my lord.” You felt something tap against your bottom lip, and opened your mouth to accept a perfectly sweet, perfectly ripe strawberry. “Tell me, then – what would please you?”

He seemed to think for a long moment. Finally, he asked, “What village were you born to?”

His intention went unspoken, but the implication was clear. Sukuna’s sole pastime was destruction, with the target of his ire being any person, town, or creature unfortunate enough to cross his path. Although you’d never seen him go out of his way to find prey before, you were sure willingly pointing him in the direction of vulnerable quarry would result in a predictable outcome.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know. Things like that can be so hard to remember,” you said, which wasn’t untrue. Your memory was a fickle thing – uncooperative on your best days and deliberately misleading on your worst. “You know, being a baby at the time and all.”

His fingers drummed thoughtfully against your side. “You must have family somewhere, servant.”

“Not necessarily.” You shut your eyes to stop yourself from squirming, sighing as you rested your head against his shoulder. “My parents abandoned me before I was old enough to learn their names. A scrap collector took me in some time after that, but he traveled quite often, and I lost track of him years ago.” You paused, shook your head. “Like I said, things like this can be difficult to remember. I’m sorry, my lord.”

There was a slight hum, a momentary lapse. Abruptly, you felt his hands shift to your waist, Sukuna repositioning your smaller form with all of the strength and all of the thought it might’ve taken an ordinary person to right a toppled-over doll. Your back came to rest against his chest as one of his spare hands cupped your chin, directing your attention towards the yellowed map. “Pick somewhere,” he muttered, his voice low and his lips close enough to ghost over the shell of your ear. “Anywhere. Before I pull your unhelpful little tongue out of your throat.”

“Of course, my lord.” Acquiesce came first, a real answer second. Your gaze fell to the map in front of you. It took a second, but you found what you were looking for quickly enough. “Here,” you said, pointing to an area north of your current location. “There’s a village in the eastern corner of this valley with a small population of young farmers and very little in the way of redeeming qualities. But, in the town square, there grows a cherry blossom tree tall enough to scrap against the belly of the sky with branches that stretch as far as the eye can seem. When it blooms, its petals are great enough in volume to carpet the surrounding acre in pink.” You straightened your back, decisively avoiding sinking back into his chest. “I… I wouldn’t mind visiting it again, if it would please my lord.”

It was a dangerous thing to do – showing your hand so plainly. You’d grown so used to keeping your cards tucked snuggly against your chest, even talking this openly felt as if you’d been stripped bare and put on exhibition in front of him.

But, if Sukuna realized that he was the audience to your performer, he neglected to acknowledge it. He only looked toward Uraume, who perked to attention immediately. They were good at that – pretending not to listen. Not as talented as you, of course, but good nonetheless. “We start traveling east tomorrow,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m adding another leg to our journey.”

His primary attention remained on them, but a few of his unblinking secondary eyes – repulsive in their lack of necessity – darted to you, watching for any signs of satisfaction, of pleasure. You only schooled your expression, retreating into your own mind to count the days until the cherry blossoms bloomed.

~

It took a surprising amount of time for you to catch Uraume in the act. Not overly long, but more time than you would’ve expected with them making no particular effort to hide the evidence of their ‘ritual preparation’ and you making no exceptional attempt to avoid finding out why their snow-white sleeves were so often stained red. If allowed to, you might’ve gone on living in the bliss of plausible deniability until your time with Sukuna and his chosen companionship came to an end, but he was not so kind, and there was little entertainment to be had in such a passive participant.

Still, you would’ve liked another week, another month, another season. You’d never cared for kitchens, but you cared for them least when they reeked of rotting meat.

The stench was almost worse than the sight – almost, but not quite. Then again, you were struggling to think of something worse than Uraume, all practiced tranquility and iced-over smiles, elbow-deep in the cavity a long dead middle-aged man, his body bare and spread over the stone countertop. You recognized him not by his face, but by his features – his wealth-fattened face, his uncalloused hands, the lack of definition to his legs that those who toiled could rarely afford to go without. He must’ve been the lord who owned the palace you currently found yourself residing in – a sprawling, decadent structure that it’d taken hours to clean after the massacre. Sukuna would survive wherever his whims lead, but he preferred to be comfortable. You didn’t mind. You preferred it when Sukuna was comfortable, too.

 It was clear they hadn’t been expecting you, either. Their dark eyes bored into you where you lingered in the doorway, a wicker basket on your hip and your robes still dusted with soil. Most of your day had been spent in the palace gardens. Its former caretaker had planted their shiso along the garden wall, where it would only receive partial sun in the best season – a common enough mistake, for how easy it was to mistake for basil, and a tricky one to correct. An experienced caretaker should’ve known better, but as the herbs were still alive while their keeper was very much not, you could consider their negligence repaid.

You made the first move –bowing at the waist by way of greeting. “Lord Sukuna asked me to fetch his tea,” you explained, as you straightened your back. You didn’t feel the need to mention that’d he’d sought you out in your gardens to do so. “I thought I’d bring you a few herbs in the same trip. My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to disturb you.”

The corner of their lips quirked downward. It wasn’t quite a frown, but it was the closest thing to one that you’d ever earned from them. You weren’t upset. Even glowering, they would’ve been breath-taking. “He wanted you to see my—” They paid a glance toward the dismembered lord, their arm still buried in his chest. “My preparations.”

“It would seem so.”

“And he wanted to know how you’d react. There’s a good chance he’ll ask me about this, later on.”

“I’d say it’s more of a certainty.”

“I’d understand it, if you wanted to leave. I know there are few ordinary humans who can stomach tasks so—” Another pause, this one longer than the first. Clearly, they were making an attempt to watch their tongue. “—needlessly visceral.”

“If I did try, how long would you give me before telling Sukuna?” This time, they choose to hold their tongue entirely, their slight frown deepening into a full-blown scowl. It took everything you had not to let your own satisfaction shine through.

Rather, you paid them another shallow bow before the threshold and setting down your basket on the nearest length of empty counter. “It’s mostly shiso, but I found some usable ginger and garlic, too, and a few stalks of parsley. Is there anything I can do to help?”

After a moment of consideration, Uraume shook their head. It only took a few minutes to make the tea you’d been sent to fetch, but they were minutes passed in silence, undisturbed save for the quiet chime of ceramic against ceramic. They didn’t start their own work again until you’d left the kitchen entirely, which you were thankful for. They’d been right. There were few humans with stomachs so strong as to withstand such grisly tasks, and you’d never counted yourself among them.

Sukuna had claimed the master’s chambers for himself, of course. You let yourself in without knocking, immediately finding Sukuna sprawled across the wonderfully ornate futon that dominated most of the floorspace. He smiled when he saw you, but his expression fell as soon as you returned the gesture.

He didn’t mention Uraume, or the kitchens, or the thick stench of iron-tinged blood that now seemed to fill every corner of the vast estate. You hummed as you poured his tea, and remained at his bedside as he took a long drink, followed shortly by an approving nod. You tried to make your escape quickly, already fantasizing about retreating back to your secluded garden, but Sukuna caught you before you could so much as turn towards the door. “Attend to what you must,” he started, his tone simultaneously dismissive and attention-seeking. “But return here, when you’re done. Bring your belongings, too – you won’t be going back to your bedroom again.”

You didn’t falter, but not for lack of reason to. You’d chosen your bedroom carefully, surveyed the better half of the residential wing before finding quarters that suited you. It was sparse by way of comforts and furniture, but the sole window looked over the mountainside, the landscape stretching on for miles upon miles without interruption. You would’ve been pressed to think of a finer view.

“As you wish.” And then, with a chirp of a laugh, “You know, we spend so much time with one another while traveling. I thought you would’ve taken our stationary periods as an excuse to get away from Uraume and I.”

“If I had a weaker will, maybe.” He reclined, let his head lull to the side, as if inviting you to counter, to protest – or worse, to step closer. “Why? Do you have something to say, servant?”

“Only how pleased I am to be of service to my lord.” You could’ve bowed, but decided against it. This time, when you took your leave, Sukuna was kind enough not to get in your way. Then again, he didn’t have a reason to.

He must’ve known that you were always going to come back.

~

“Who gave you permission to leave, servant?”

No one, but you’d hoped he wouldn’t notice until you were already gone. Stifling the urge to cringe, you turned on your heel and retreated back to the riverbank, not far from where Sukuna had left his robes, deliberately keeping your eyes on the ground. He rarely let you leave his side, but having you remain within eyeshot while he bathed was a newer development – and a tricker one to justify to yourself, at that. You were still allowed to remain more of a voyeur than a participant, but you weren’t naive enough to believe that he’d allow there to be such a great distance between you for much longer.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” Your eyes may have been downcast, but your voice was a light and as upbeat as ever. “I only hoped to catch Uraume before they finished. Servants have to bathe too, you know, and those of us with no limbs to spare can be rather hesitant to do so alone so deep into the forest.”

“Join me, then.”

Ah.

You should’ve been expecting that, honestly. You had no one but yourself to blame.

“My lord,” you managed with an airy laugh, feigning disbelief. “I’m just not sure if someone of my position should—”

Considering Sukuna’s size, he could move impressively fast. You’d only managed to take half a step back before you felt a hand curling around your wrist, pulling you off of the bank and into the river. You managed to take all of two stumbling steps forward before your foot caught on a slick river stone and you fell to your knees, ice-cold water immediately soaking through your thin robes. Sukuna made no effort to catch you, laughing as you tripped over yourself. He’d always seemed terrible to you, but you couldn’t remember the sound of his voice ever being so vile.

Biting back a sigh or some other, more telling show of displeasure, you started to push yourself to your feet, but stopped as soon as you felt Sukuna’s fist curl around your collar, another finding the back of your head. In a brief moment of blissful obliviousness, you thought he meant to help you – or, to restrain you and savor your humiliation for a few seconds longer, at the very worst. You almost thanked him, as little as your gratitude meant to Sukuna.

Then, your head was forced below the water, and you thought better of it.

It happened too suddenly to brace yourself. Your first reaction, operating purely out of instinct, was to open your mouth and try to breathe in – an idea as primal as it was unhelpful. Frigid water flooded into your mouth, your throat, liberating you from any amount of air you might’ve been able to hold onto and filling the now-vacant space with a chill that seemed to bite into your throat and leave everything it touched throbbing, numb. Your second was to thrash against Sukuna’s hold – which was, predictably, equally as useless. He was stronger than you could ever hope to be, than any real human being ever should be. Thick fingers threaded themselves into your hair, the hand holding the collar of your robes falling away only to find the nape of your neck, cementing your place at his mercy.

You tried to be rational, to exhale, to not panic, but something thick and solid seemed to be lodged at the base of your throat, and you couldn’t think about breathing without choking, and it was hard not to panic when you were hyper-aware that you were going to be drowned in some godforsaken river in some heartless forest at the hands of an unlovable monster. You were running out of air too quickly – you were supposed to have more time. He couldn’t have dragged you down any longer than a minute ago, but you could already feel an acute throbbing in your temples, make out dark spots dancing in the corners of your vision. Your body thrashed and stiffened in turns, but it was only when your form went limp in his hold that Sukuna jerked you back to the surface – hauling you back to the shore and letting you collapse onto the welcoming sand. He stood by, his grin the embodiment of mirth, as you hacked up acid-tinged water and blinked back tears, sucking in shallow breaths between coughing fits. Every inhale left your chest tense and aching, though, and every exhale felt like you were giving up something precious, something irreplaceable. You did your best to ignore the strain, to put it out of your mind. You had a feeling it would be some time before you could breathe painlessly again.

It took long, agonizing minutes for you to so much as begin to recover, but Sukuna remained by your side, waiting patiently. At some point, he lowered himself to your height – falling into a crouch and bringing a hand up to your back, rubbing circles into the apex of your spine as you coughed and clawed at the shore. He didn’t hum, or speak, or apologize, but you hadn’t expected him to. To initiate would be to taint what he sought so violently: your reaction. He wouldn’t do anything to spoil his prize, not so close to victory.

No, he wouldn’t dare.

The responsibility of denying him fell solely to you.

“My—”You tried to raise your head, to look at him, only to cut yourself off – another lungful of brackish water forcing its way past your lips before you could find your voice again. “My lord,” you managed, eventually. “If you’d like to bathe together, please give me a moment to undress, first. You know how long it can take cotton to dry.”

To his credit, his composure held. There was another throaty laugh, a sudden edge to his smile. “You should be more careful, songbird. One day, I’m going to eat you alive, and your last words to me are going to how glad you are to serve your master one last meal.”

“There would be no greater honor.” You managed an unsteady smile before dropping your head low, curling into yourself, and coughing up until your throat burnt and your rib cage seemed ready to burst. Sukuna only shook his head, taking you by the shoulders and leaning you against his chest, ensuring your stability before his attention shifted to your robes. With a surprising delicacy, he undid the sash bound around your waist, shrugging off your ruined yukata and carrying you back into the water. Your nails bit into his chest, but if he felt your involuntary resistance, it wasn’t enough to deter him.

Your body was lowered gingerly into one of the river’s shallower portions, and Sukuna kneeled behind you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. You shut your eyes, but you could still feel his thumb tracing idly over your cheek, his chest reverberating against your back as he all but purred in delight. “I could hear your heart racing as I pushed you under.” And then, with a feather-light kiss to the top of your head, “It’s a relief to know there’s at least one part of you I can trust to be honest with me.”

You didn’t answer – only smiling as you melted into his palm.

~

The cherry blossom tree was larger than you’d remembered.

The village that surrounded it had grown, too. That made sense – it’d been years since you last passed through this area, and such a lovely corner of the world was bound to attract merchants and traveling warriors and those who, like yourself, simply found themselves drawn to beautiful things. You’d been able to see its wonderous branches rising above the horizon days before you were supposed to reach the village, started catching sakura petals on the breeze while you were still hours away from the nearest scrap of civilization, and a small part of you died upon being told that you would have to wait until after sunrise for your reunion, until Sukuna had finished glutting himself on blood and death and misery. Not that you listened. Uraume was tasked with looking after you, but they weren’t difficult to slip away from. They seemed to be fond of you – or, at least, surprisingly sympathetic to their master’s newest pet. Either way, they let you go without much of a struggle.

An hour or so after midnight, you made your way through fleeing crowds, maneuvering around mounds of disembodied extremities and between flame-eaten farmhouses, still in the early stages of burning down. Wherever Sukuna went, the fire seemed to follow, so you tried to stay where the light seemed the dimmest, where the smoke seemed the thinnest, focused solely on finding your way to the center of town – to the cherry blossom. You couldn’t make out its silhouette against the pitch-black landscape, but you didn’t need to. You would’ve been able to find your way to it on instinct alone.

That being said, now that you stood before it, you found it hard to believe that you’d come to the right village, let alone the right tree.

You didn’t remember your cherry blossom looking quite so… absent.

It was as if some great and wrathful deity had broken your sakura off at the base and spirited its body away, leaving only a charred stump behind. There was evidence that there had been more, at some point – pale pink petals littering the ground, a rope fence that had to have once guarded more than desecrated remains – but the cherry blossom was gone, as the village built around it would be by sunrise. It was cruel, really, when you could put your own despair aside long enough to use such tame vernacular. It was monstrous.

Speaking of monsters – yours was quick to rear his ugly head.

He’d never looked more terrible. Ash tainted the pale color of his hair, blood and gore staining his chest, his face, his hands. As always, he carried no weapon, and as always, he was entirely uninjured, untouched save for the byproduct of the devastation he’d wrought. You watched him approach in your peripheral, bracing yourself a moment before four arms wrapped around your smaller body and pulled you into a stone-hard chest. You knew better than to attempt to resist Sukuna, but this might have been the first time you were tempted to try.

“Songbird,” he muttered, the petname salt to a fresh wound. If he was surprised, let alone angry that you’d snuck away from Uraume, your disobedience caused him no strife. “I come bearing gifts.”

The upper of his two left hands uncurled, revealing a long, stick-like object. A hairpin, you realized, after a moment, the prong of a fine dark mahogany. It boasted only a single ornament: a small, expertly made glass flower. A cherry blossom, to be more specific.

You’d never been quick to anger. For as long as you could remember, in fact, you’d never found yourself angered by much of anything before.

You tasted blood before you realized you were biting your tongue; swallowing back a scream, or howl, or some other unsightly noise. It took you longer than you would’ve liked to regain your composure, but Sukuna was preoccupied, his attention dedicated solely to burying his face in the crook of your neck, to clutching onto you so tightly, you had to wonder how he’d ever managed to let go. It’d been inane to ever compare yourself to a pet, to something so cherished. It’d been inane to ever believe you were anything more than the favored plaything of a drooling, overgrown mutt.

With trembling hands, you plucked the hairpin out of his palm and held it up appraisingly. When Sukuna raised his head, his pointed teeth still lingering against your throat, you did the only thing you could think to – smiling as you leaned into him. “It’s beautiful.” And then, with a sigh, “It’s only a shame to have missed the real thing.”

“You don’t have to worry.” A hand found your jaw, holding you in place as he pressed a kiss into your temple. “I had more than my fill before you arrived.”

Ah.

For all of Sukuna’s faults, you could only be thankful that pride was among them.

As you watched the village burn in his arms, you thought only of the color of chrysanthemums and the taste of iron, heavy on your tongue.

~

Someone had told you, once, that all the loveliest flowers bloomed under moonlight.

You watched the sky as you waited – your eyes never leaving the sliver of it you could see through small, barred window built into the opposing wall. He’d taken you to another vacant temple, tonight, claimed the head priest’s chambers as his den, and you’d followed lovingly, never uttering so much as a word of complaint. You’d let him rest his head in your lap, raked your fingers through his hair, and brought a cask of sweet wine laced with bitter herbs to his lips whenever he threatened to stir. Eventually, his eyes eased shut, his pulse slowing and his expression dulling into something calm, something docile. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve started to doubt that he was a monster at all.

You didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t make a run for the door. You only reached into your sleeve, fetching the cherry blossom hairpin he’d gifted you weeks ago, now, the hairpin you carried dutifully ever since. You waited for him to turn onto his side, revealing the unarmored half of his face, before aligning the pointed tip with his ear, raising it above your head, and plunging it—

You felt his fingers dig into your thigh, another hand latching onto your hip. Your back slammed into the stiff futon with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs – leaving you breathless and paralyzed in an instant. When you recovered enough to think, you found Sukuna above you, straddling your waist, a hand planted on either side of your head. He was breathing heavily, as if excited. You knew it was impossible, but you found yourself wishing that he’d find a way to regurgitate his own lungs and choke on them.

“My lord,” you started, each word measured. You were careful to keep your voice low, your smile perfectly saccharine. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

 His response was a manic smile, a bark of a laugh. “It’s too late to play innocent.” He lowered himself that much closer to you, his chest a hair’s width from making contact with yours. “How many times have you poisoned my wine, songbird?”

“Poisoned? Never.” You’d let go of your hairpin in the collision. Currently, it was lying against the wall to your right – just an inch or so out of your reach. There were other, more accessible weapons closer to you, but if you were going to kill Sukuna, you wanted it to be with that abomination. “If my lord is asking how many times I’ve treated his wine with herbs and spices, then twice. Once to see how he handled his drink, and tonight.”

You’d done him a disservice – writing him off as simply monstrous. He was more beast-like than anything, with his back arched and his talons dug into the bedding, with eyes so wide and so vibrant you believed, if only for a second, that he would manage to burn holes through your skull. “A day will come,” His anticipation was palpable. It was a wonder how such a glutton could ever sound so starved. “Where nothing will fall from you sweet lips but my praises, and I will know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you mean every last word.”

For once, you could only say what you meant. “I’d rather fucking die.”

There was a change to his animal posture, a glint of white teeth in moonlight, and then his mouth was crashing into yours – all fangs and tongue and intensity. Mindlessly, operating off of your own sort of base impulse, you reached out, your fingertips just barely brushing against the prong of your hairpin.

It was only as you curled your fist around it that you kissed him back, unable to suppress your grin.

[acotarxreader]

Honey

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: Azriel frequents the hotel in Hewn City that you manage with his many lovers, a source of your constant teasing until Azriel can't replace the way he feels about you with anyone else.

Warnings: Silly, fluff, banter, back and forth hehe, a lil slut shaming moment

A/N: Hello friends, it was recently my birthday and now I am travelling in celebration but not before put out this is silly little cute fic, originally titled Heartbreak Hotel but I think Honey just fitted so much more, you'll of course see why. I'm working on a second party of Mirror but still haven't decided if it's ready or not yet ✨

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

Your legs laid one over the other beneath the large oak desk, one-foot tip tapping, the sound of the large grandfather clock’s beating heart filling the lobby. Your head rested on your hands between the shadows cast by large stacks of unchecked paperwork. The ring of the well-rung bell forced you upright in your chair once again as a cloaked figure entered the hotel accompanied by a bubbly, bright female who seemingly couldn’t believe she had been chosen. You scoffed at the two of them, the male approaching you familiarly while the female absentmindedly twirled her hair by the stairs.

“One room please” he spoke quietly through his hood, a scarf obscuring his lower face. 

“No problem, here are your keys, one for you and one for Honey over there”

“My name isn’t Honey?” the female tilted her head, her doe eyes sparkling at you before she found her attention taken by the bowl of centuries-old sweets on the coffee table of the lobby. 

“Oh Honey, not like it matters” You smirked quietly to yourself for only him to hear. You offered the two keys between your fingers, his scarred hands taking them softly before he turned on his heels.

“Have fun Honey”

“Why does she keep calling me Honey?” the female asked him as he practically swept her up the stairs ahead of him, not bothering to answer her. You returned to your resting position, eyes landing on the booming clock to begin your timer. 

Sometime later Azriel came quickly down the stairs, solo, you grinning from behind your desk at the sight of a slightly dishevelled warrior. 

“Must have been chatty, two hours and…seven minutes, new record” You chuckled, your palm flat waiting to receive the key.

“You’re very judgemental, it’s bad for your skin” he teased.

“Keeps my heart young though” He smiled through the scarf covering the bottom half of his face, the corners of his eyes lifting to match yours. 

“I come here for discretion, perhaps I have overstayed that courtesy”

“Whatever, you know you love me” You batted your eyelashes in faux obsession that was very rapidly becoming less and less faux.

“I tolerate you, honey” You scoffed at his reply, taking the key, his hazel eyes examining you closely. It had been close to a year since Azriel had begun to show up occasionally with his Hewn City conquests. The hotel you managed was on the very outskirts of Hewn City, at the very limits of the mountain, too far and too cold for most to trek to. 

“Whatever” you stood, slogging your bag across your back as the sound of another Fae shuffling in the background got louder. You slid over the desk with the agile grace that comes with years of practice, landing at Azriel’s feet  

“And where are you off to?”

“Home” You strode past him, the female taking over your shift sank into your chair without so much as a goodbye. You strolled into the dark streets of the enclave in the mountain, conscious of the shadows that followed you.

“Unbefitting of a lady to travel in these streets alone”

“Unbefitting of a gentleman to comment” You shot back at him, a few steps trailing you from behind. 

“If you’re going to murder me, at least walk beside me until you decide the right time, the hovering is creepy honey” He quickly closed the distance he held from behind you, meeting your side with a curiosity he couldn’t quash. 

“How I do love our time together…ehh” You stopped still at his words, turning to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Really? It’s been like a year and you don’t know my name”

“I hadn’t realised such a thing would bother you, honey” The corner of his eyes turned up, his deep smirk masked behind his handkerchief. 

“You bother me” You lied, striding once more through the icy winter streets, the mountain's deep core working overtime to shield from the arctic temperatures on the other side of the shell. 

“At least I know you think about me, honey”

“Yeah, I think of how your money is gonna free me from here” You half laughed, feeling Azriel stop alongside you again.

“You want to leave here?” He quizzed, your gaze turning back to see his slumping shoulders, wings tightly folded in to be kept from the cold and potential threats. 

“Why would I stay? For the company?” You scoff before continuing your stride, passers-by watching you with eagerness, waiting for a moment to pounce and thinking otherwise when noticing Azriel. 

“There are plans to improve the City” He jogged once again to walk parallel to you. 

“Are they levelling it?” You smirked, gaining an equal expression from the Shadowsinger. 

“What do you suggest, honey, other than a large bang?”

“Not my job, that’s the job of the pompous assholes that live upstairs” You shrugged, unaware of your company, Azriels grin deepening. 

“Perhaps” his hands rested behind his back, striding along in levelheaded confidence you matched with your casual self-assured nature. 

“This is me” You swung your bag to your stomach, digging through its contents for your keys, Azriel inspecting your home. The towering building matched its surrounding counterparts, paint peeling, stones splitting as the structure stretched into the thick boulder it was cut into. An elderly female watched the both of you from her living room window of the ground floor apartment, eyes scanning for any information she could gather on Azriel, he felt oddly bare at the sight. 

“Ignore her, she’s as old as the dust that falls from the stalactites-” You laughed, noticing Azriels slight discomfort “-she’s probably just judging me for bringing a male near my home”

“Ah so your judgemental state is a taught behaviour” You shoved him playfully from the pavement step.

“Is yours?” You laughed, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, unsure as to why you couldn’t walk away yet.

“A consequence of my pompous surroundings” You tilted your head in question to his joking reply. 

“Walk with me some more?” He offered his elbow for you to take, your hands finding your hips.

“What are you doing?”

“What?” He laughed, scarf slipping slightly.

“You come to the hotel with a steady string of females, pay and leave. I’m not going to join the string of females who wonder where their knight with the dazzling eyes is gone the next morning”

“Aw you think my eyes are dazzling?” You shoved his obscured goofy face fully from the step, Azriel unable to keep himself from laughing. 

“I think that it's a wonder no one has strangled you with that scarf yet” You began walking without full consciousness of the decision, Azriel happily following suit. 

“It helps me to remain mysterious”

“Helps you look stupid” You chuckled, arms folding into your chest to fight off the cold. Azriel slipped from his jacket without your full awareness. You leapt slightly at the feeling of it shrouding your shoulders, the intoxicating scent of night-chilled mist and cedar brushing against your senses. You fought away the strange feeling crossing your chest, settling on the warmth of the wool being the cause and nothing else. 

“Are these the moves you put on all your females?”

“Oh, if I was using the moves, you’d know all about it, honey”

“YN”

“You’d know all about it, YN, honey” You rolled your eyes continuing on your course with no final destination. You both walked around in a new sense of comfortable silence peppered with small snippets of one another's lives until you returned once again to the stoop outside your home. 

“I should probably head in, I have work again in a few hours” The night getting away from the two of you. 

“Of course” Azriel smiled softly beneath the scarf, it showing in his eyes until they landed on the elderly female in the window, still surveying her kingdom of this long-forgotten street. 

“Until next time Smokey”

“Smokey?” You just nodded to the shadows that had appeared around his legs, his dear friends who he normally kept away from him during his escapades had sensed their master's warmth and comfort around you and believed it was time to come back to him, that he was home. 

“Ah yes…until next time Honey” You just smiled softly at him before turning and heading up the steps, Azriel still fixated on you.

“Oh your jacket” You span around to return down the steps with the heaven-sent fabric.

“Oh no, I must have forgotten it, I guess I’ll have to come back for it” He laughed, stopping you in your tracks as he gave a small wave and began his walk back to his family in the Court of Nightmares. You shook your head side to side and found yourself laughing, eyes landing on your elderly neighbour who remained watching. 

“Mind your business Mags!” You called towards her knowing look before slipping inside. 

—-------------------------------

Over the next number of weeks, Azriel made his usual pilgrimage to the hotel, but unlike normal, he was now accompanied by no one else. He arrived at the beginning of your shift to keep you company and found himself walking you home after each clock-out. He resigned himself to keep his identity obscured, for fear it would send you running in fear or disgust. You spoke freely of your ideas to change the City for the better and your plans for the future, the other side of the mountain. Azriel found himself more forthcoming with the details of his life, identifiable clues excluded still however. Your walks around Hewn City were quickly becoming both of your favourite times in the week, missing one another when you were gone, denying it when you were together.

“And then I locked him out of the cabin naked” Your laugh at Azirel’s story practically filled the streets of the city. 

“I’ve only heard brutal stories about the Illyrian mountains but I swear you make it sound like an enjoyable time”

“I have brutal stories too” He joked, your smile faltering. 

“Tell me those” Azriel looked towards your soft expression, it glowing in the faelights of the usual route home you took together. 

“My brothers and I, were torn apart from one another during the Blood Rite, forced to find our way to one another, we did unspeakable things to reach the summit, I’m afraid I’ve done a lot of unspeakable things in my life” his gaze fixated on the cobblestone in front of him as he walked, fighting away memories of a time he tirelessly tried to disown from his mind. You looked at his furrowed face before instinctively finding your hand in his, lacing your fingers through his deepest insecurity, his mind screaming at him to let go but his heart wanting nothing of the sort. 

“What you do in survival shouldn’t decide who you are in the sun”

“I like that” He found a subtle smile grow beneath the scarf again, his hand squeezing yours to test if the contact was all a lie. 

“Unless you’ve like killed a puppy or something then you can burn in that same sun” You laughed, Azriel’s hazel eyes rolling in their socket. 

“And tell me who are you in the sun, Honey?”

“I don’t know, mountain, remember?” You gestured up to the solid ceiling miles and miles above you, Azriel shaking his head in apology, an idea crossing his mind, stopping you both on your stroll. 

“Cover your eyes” You scoffed but found yourself obeying him, your hand leaving his left a chill in him he wished to smother again. He took a deep breath before snaking a hand around your waist and pulling you tight to his side, an electric pulse shooting down the two of you at the closer contact. Azriel looked to his shadowy friends, a now frequent attendee of your time together unable to pull against the magnetic force you applied to them. He swirled the two of you in shadow, pulling you through the space he created until you were taken from where you stood to land with him gently on the top of the mountain, in the Moonstone Palace. The whole motion was so painfully gentle, you felt as though you hadn’t moved from the spot you left. Azriel stood in front of you, pulling your hands delicately from your face, the wash of light hitting you causing you to squint. 

“Open Honey” His serene tone filled you with the same warmth the rising sun provided. Your mouth hung agape as you looked through the glass of the gigantic windows on the top of the Night Court, the sun beginning to stretch its limbs over the gloriously harsh landscape. You rattled a nervous laugh out, looking quickly from Azriel back to the astonishing view. You found your feet taking a step back, the sudden vastness of the space in front of you almost suffocating in its airiness. 

“You’re as beautiful in the sun as you are in the shadow” Azriel spoke with a level of apprehension he hadn’t felt around you before, afraid he’d overwhelmed you into a state of trepidation.

“I-I-I” You couldn’t manage the words, the sprawling scene stealing syllables as they formed. 

“Who’s that?” Both you and Azriel shook in alarm at the voice, Azriel thinking his family were in Velaris. Feyre stood at the end of the very long dining room looking between the both of you. 

“Azriel?” Your head flew in his direction at the first mention of his name you had heard, he balled his fists at his side, cringing his face upward before releasing the tension again. Azriel pulled the scarf that had become like his very own flesh from his face. You took another step back from him, his face rivalling the staggering beauty of the other side of the glass. 

“Hello?” Feyre tried again with a laugh, your head darting back to her as she closed in, you sank immediately to the ground in a deep bow.

“YN, it's okay” Azriel whispered down to you, you unsure if you would faint on your way back to your full height or not. 

“Ah YN, the lovely lady who keeps our equally lovely Az away from us” She reached your shadow, a hand outstretched to help you stand again. You shot upright in front of her, unable to find any words. 

“I thought you were at home Feyre?” 

“And I thought I was High Lady and could go wherever I want Az?-” She laughed in reply, your eyes boring into the ground in practised submission “-Don’t worry YN, we’re not all pompous assholes like your dear Az” your head shooting back to hers, a playful smile decorating her delicate features. 

“My-Your-I-I”

“Feyre, if you could give us a moment” She only nodded to the Spymaster before making her exit as quietly as she had made her entrance. 

“Are you okay, Honey?” Azriel spoke with the candour of someone trying to talk a baby deer into not running away from a hunter. His uncharacteristically shaky hand reached for you before he guided you to sit in a grand dining room chair, your brain fogging slightly from the altitude. Azriel crouched afore you, his hand not leaving yours as it landed in your lap, your eyes searching the hazel eyes you were learning to call home.

“I-I can’t bel- I don’t understa- We were grossly undercharging you at the hotel” You managed, Azriel’s laughing singing in your ears, his thumb tracing circles around the back of your hand.

“We can rectify that I’m sure”

“Are these- Are these-”

“The mountains above Hewn City? Yes, this is a small sliver of the world I want to show you” He beamed up, your utter shock dripping away as the return of the comfort he gave you flooded back, his shadows swaddling your ankles.

“I was going to say are these the moves but yeah sure let's go with that” You found your panicked laughter changing to match the lightness washing through your chest, Azriel chuckling. 

“You’re the first female I’ve brought home…probably obvious by Feyre’s reaction”

“Fe-Feyre, the High Lady of Night Court, you call Feyre, like she’s anyone”

“You should hear what I call the Lord of the Night Court” His joking tone pushed away the draining colour in your face, the flush of unadulterated happiness returning. 

“What is happening right now?” Your laughter was almost hysterical, Azriel stood again, pulling you up to his chest. 

“I can bring you back below if you’d like-” You walked back towards the window again, captivated by the scenes “-Or, or I could show you more of my world? You’ve been so kind in showing me yours” 

“I have work” You found yourself saying before turning back to see his confused face and then bursting into laughter.

“What the fuck I have work” You couldn’t stop laughing, Azriel joining the sound as his hands caught your forearms. 

“Well, I did leave my jacket at your place, I have every reason to continue forgetting to collect it” You chuckled against his chest, his arms tracing their way across your back, his chin resting on your head. 

“I’m gonna be another one of you Honies aren’t I?” You looked up through your lashes, a laugh continuing to leave you

“You’re the only one I want to call Honey” His thumb traced circles on your cheeks as he leaned down to kiss you in sweetness, night-chilled mist and cedar swirling into the undeniable taste of honey.

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

Whatcha think?

[bonefall]

Not sure if this is the place to ask or if I should go to Bonebabble, but ooh, Dungeon Meshi mention! I love what you said about low-empathy and apathy, I think I’ll use that in ny own characters.

I wanted to ask why you think Shuro is autistic. I’ve seen a lot of people say it so there must be a reason why, but I don’t think it’s really obvious to me? Like with Laios, autism/neurodivergence is so integral to his story, so it’s deeply obvious. I love the way he’s written! But we don’t see a lot of Shuro, so I’d like to hear more of why people see the tism in him.

@bonebabbles is the better place to send these in the future but it's chill! The vibe right now's loose since we're all coming down from the heaviness of Mooncourse lmao

Honestly, I feel a little 'tism in a lot of the cast of Dungeon Meshi. As a very autistic writer myself, it kind of has a vibe like it was written by someone who's autistic and so it gets peppered into all of her characters. It's something I notice a lot in my own art, too.

But like, when it comes to Toshiro... I can't stop thinking about him. He makes me want to chew the furniture. With every passing day I become less normal about him.

glossary because I had a lot of thoughts about Toshiro Dungeon Meshi i guess. Oh my god this got long

He reminds me of some people I know

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

THE LAIOS FIGHT

in conclusion

He reminds me of some people I know

He reminds me of certain autistic men I've met from affluent families. The type who both is taught to repress and mask their own traits, yet also not to be incredibly mindful of the emotions of other people. Because of their status, they don't have to learn how to work out interpersonal conflict because the majority of the people around them are servants or family. People who would never go away if they didn't like you.

So, his vassals have to learn to talk to him and how to carry out his orders. Not the other way around. As a result, Toshiro has a bit of unearned confidence about his leadership abilities and communication skills. NOT in a way that is smug, DO NOT misunderstand me; just in a way that overestimates his own judgement. Maybe he has encyclopedic knowledge for talking to other nobles offscreen, but when it came to his own team, he was ignoring a lot of the good advice they gave him about taking breaks.

Yes, Toshiro is from a high-context culture-- but his communication issues are bad with everyone.

ESPECIALLY his vassals, people he calls family, from the same exact culture as him. They're worried about him, most of them are desperate for acknowledgement, they'd do anything for him, and he doesn't address this until AFTER his brawl with Laios!

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

Toshiro knew he was going somewhere that was going to be a melting pot of mostly western cultures. He knew the manners were going to be different, and he came alone, not in a group where he was only interacting with his own people.

Yet he NEVER adjusted his own social behavior.

I'm American and my partner is British. When I first went, I had no idea why they were offering me so much tea. I thought I was being polite by following them into the kitchen, thinking they wanted to move the conversation over there. My partner quickly fixed this by explaining that when someone offers you tea, they're taking a short pause in the lull of a conversation to be a good host.

I am autistic. What someone else might have just figured out through getting an awkward look, I had to be told directly. There are a lot of little things like that.

Toshiro feels like what would happen if the opposite was happening, an autistic person from a high-context culture coming to a low-context culture. He can't properly express discomfort. It's not JUST Laios, King of Autism, that he's having issues talking to. Neither Marcille nor Chilchuck know that "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, and they had no clue that he disliked Laios THIS much.

I even think it's kinda telling that Toshiro felt the most comfortable with Falin out of the rest of the party. The hyper-empathetic autistic girl who goes out of her way to accommodate others.

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

A strict, uncompromising moral compass is a hallmark of autism. It's everything Toshiro does!!

When Falin was eaten, he bolted off to assemble the best team he could think of. He believes that love is sacrifice, so he pushes his body and his family to the limit to try and prove how much he loves Falin. Chilchuck freaks out when he finds out that Laios told him about the dark magic, because "HE'S THE WORST PERSON TO TELL!"

LIKE, YEAH! HE SURE IS!

Maizuru also explains that from a very young age, he's been incredibly compliant. He never asks for anything, he's always been a bit sickly and uninterested in eating. He always tries to be on his very best behavior, even if that means not asking for accommodations he might actually need.

In fact, the only food he seems to LIKE eating is what Maizuru makes him. To the point where she ended up getting pulled into the kitchen even when she was on a "mission." Senshi makes a cute comment that it's "love" that Maizuru puts into those meals, but... what if it's actually because she knows the textures and flavors he likes?

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

There's so many little moments that are so incredibly autistic to me.

He sees Falin with a bug and he proposes right on the spot. The other characters are like, "oh that's just how they act in the east" but no the fuck it is not. They don't even know "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, how the hell do they know anything about eastern courting traditions?

I know EXACTLY what happened. I'm beaming you this information directly from the truth.

Toshiro was TOLD that you're supposed to 1. make your proposals a surprise, and 2. you will know the right one when you see them, and NO ONE elaborated any further because he comes from a high context culture. He popped that question the first time both of those boxes were ticked off.

In coming from a high context culture, what he does is strictly follow rules and conditions he was taught.

And that's absolutely why he handed Laios that bell. Because he does care about him and the party, and he's taught that doing these acts of service is a show of that... and he didn't even think ahead to the fact the bell was going to be ringing constantly.

And yet. In spite of that, he ALWAYS keeps it near him.

Before it clicked and I realized why, I used to think Toshiro was kind of an asshole for running off to get his vassals without even telling Marcille and Laios about his plan. Like... how could you not know they were going to do something drastic? The three of them were the Falin Fan Club and he was the most normal member of it. It's so obvious to me that Laios (brother) and Marcille (""Gal Pal"") were going to get themselves in danger.

So how could you just run off like that without telling them? Even if lack of supplies meant they couldn't go back in, how could you just leave them worried sick in the town, thinking you abandoned Falin?

And then it hit me. The man just has low empathy.

There WAS no malice, just like how there wasn't malice in how he was pushing him and his vassals to the limits, just like how there was never malice against Laios. It simply didn't occur to him like that.

He's never been taught to consider the thoughts and feelings of others very deeply and they don't come naturally. He's still compassionate. There's a reason all of his vassals love him!

But THAT'S WHY he never put himself in Laios' shoes, or anyone else's. Empathy does not come naturally to him. All of his good behavior is as a result of his moral code, NOT empathy.

So with that said, why does he love Falin so much? Aside from the wonderful, positive traits he lists when he's asked? I mean, what's really deep down at the core of why he finds these things so lovely?

Well... Falin and Laios are not all that different from each other, to the point where Toshiro gets gently ribbed in a bonus chapter about how if one of them was a girl, Shuro might have loved Laios instead. He waxes poetic about the ways she's different from most women, how she's not afraid of things like insects, her compassion, her face, her laugh.

These are all things Laios does too (in fact in one of the panels where Toshiro is appreciating Falin, she's trying to check if a caterpillar is a male or female), but Falin's personality expresses in a more subdued and introverted way. Closer to how Toshiro is, as a person. So... I think it's because he relates to her.

To both Touden siblings. But Laios makes him see things he doesn't want to.

THE LAIOS FIGHT

We established that Toshiro has a strict commitment to his values, he probably has low empathy, and even taking his cultural differences into account he's bad at communicating.

So then, why was one of his complaints against Laios' obliviousness that he "knows he doesn't mean anything by it, and that makes it worse"? Isn't that kinda specific when you think about it?

If you're neurodivergent, I want you to think back to points in time where you dealt with people who have the same issues you do. Autism, ADHD, PTSD, DID, whatever. Did you ever have a moment where they did something harmless or mildly inconvenient, definitely as a result of the same exact thing you have, and you just... HATED it?

You HATED it even more than you would anyone else doing the same thing. You probably know your response was disproportionate. But YOU don't do that THING they did. Or if you do that, it's less bad somehow. Or you used to do that but don't anymore and it reminds you of when you did.

If you're reflective, you might have realized it might be internalized ableism. I feel like that's a huge part of why Toshiro finds Laios SO. ANNOYING. Laios is like this stupid, idiot, blundering caricature of things Toshiro has been taught to avoid, which violate his moral code. Shuro comes from a place of so many more rules and subtle cues, and it's like Laios doesn't respect any of them.

What STARTS this fight, causes Laios to finally hit back after being smacked, shoved, and shouted at, is being told "YOU'RE NOT TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY."

It's so obviously wrong! Laios, who ran back into a dungeon immediately? Who Toshiro himself called rash? This is NOT a logical conclusion to make about Laios or his party. I think it came from frustration that Laios "does things the wrong way." That it's projection, stemming from that low empathy.

He's not like Kabru in the same chapter, who's desperately trying to get a read on Laios' inner workings and failing. Shuro's just extrapolating his own feelings onto him, because he's recognizing that same "sense" within him. If TOSHIRO didn't follow the rules he sets down for himself, that's not "taking it seriously."

Toshiro follows the rules. Laios does not.

...and Laios is FREE.

He's open and honest in a way Toshiro can never be, not as a noble, not as an easterner, and not as an autistic man. Hell, Laios was ALSO a noble, he gave that up! Threw that away, and then came back to his village and took Falin away from it. If Laios is acting like an idiot, he's acting like an idiot who does everything Toshiro has ever wanted to do. Laios cannot mask and Toshiro resents that.

One of the things Toshiro even explicitly says he HATES about Laios is the fact he's willing to be a burden on other people. Maizuru said earlier that he's NEVER made a "selfish request" before-- but Laios can just open his mouth and ask for help, feeling no shame, just as he did in this chapter when he asked him not to tell the Island Lord about the dark magic.

And then, after they literally come to blows, Toshiro tells Laios some incredibly brutal things, revealing he's NEVER been his friend and he has resented him this whole time. This actually sits with Laios well into the later chapters, but the fight ends and then they're just CHATTING FRIENDLY LIKE IT DIDN'T MATTER.

More honestly than ever before, because Toshiro is returning the effort. He eats some food (the narrative's metaphor for making connections). He thanks his vassals for the first time. He talks about how he wishes he'd told Falin about all the things he adored about her when he still had the chance.

I have to take the panels of his response right out of the manga actually because this little expression here is so subtle, but so meaningful.

(Read <- <- <- that way)

Look at the way that when Laios makes that genuine movement, assuring him with passion that he will be making sure Falin receives this message, Toshiro's gut response is annoyance. But then it softens and he pauses, like he's reconsidering what his response is going to be.

To admit that he envies "this side of Laios" is also admitting that the earlier fight was based on envy.

Laios was like this the WHOLE time. Making these grand speeches about his plans, what his party's been doing, how Toshiro needs to eat something and take a nap. He's ALWAYS been like this. It was Toshiro's mindset that changed.

In conclusion

Something I really like about Dungeon Meshi is HOW MANY of its characters can be read as autistic. Laios is just the most obvious one, with his special interest in monsters and inability to read social cues being central to the plot. His is a more "well known" expression of autism-- it's rare you get characters whose masking is central to their characters.

But it's really refreshing to see characters like Kabru, Falin, and Toshiro. Autistic people are rare enough in popular media to begin with, but we NEVER get characters whose autism intersects with their trauma, gender, and culture quite like these three.

[godihatethiswebsite]

Everything's Perfect

✽ Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!reader

You find yourself learning a painful lesson in futility when a possessive romance becomes too stifling

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

This small bit of madness was partially inspired by this post from @shotmrmiller. Thank you for your constant barrage of depraved juicy thoughts that feed us mere mortals!

Trigger warnings: stalking, unhealthy relationships, minor smut, pet play?

You’d planned it perfectly.

A couple months' careful preparation finally come to fruition as you shoved the last of your precious belongings in your oversized purse and headed towards the front door, ignoring the pang in your heart and the tears building behind bloodshot eyes as you cast your gaze one final time over the place you’d called home before departing the space forever.

You never thought you'd see the day you'd walk out on Simon Riley - simultaneously the best thing that ever happened to you and the unfortunate reason for your abrupt upheaval. The man you would have surrendered your entire being to…

…until the avid eagerness with which he wrapped your pliant form around his meaty fingers became far more predatory than it was enthralling.

At first you’d loved that about him; his borderline obsession granted you the freedom to be as clingy as you liked without overwhelming or smothering his own flames of passion. He let you express your need for him in ways that would’ve sent lesser men running for the hills. There was no judgement for the amount of affection you practically drowned him with - whether that be the hours long phone calls or back to back text messages. How you always felt the compulsory need to be physically attached even when the two of you were merely existing separately in each other’s presence. 

How you craved the nights laying cock drunk tangled in soaked bed sheets, far too shattered and dumb from overlapping orgasms to do anything but take what he gave you, whimpering like a broken toy as his wide hips battered your abused and messy quim with still no end in sight. Even overstimulated and far past the point of exhaustion, you couldn’t slake the insatiable voracity to be pumped full over and over again.

You’d ignored his own flags too, viewing them in a positive light instead of the much more sinister undertones they held. How quickly he’d moved all your belongings into his flat. The possessive grip he held on you in the presence of others. The need to know where you were at all times and showing up unannounced on the rare instances you’d forgotten to text him.

He had you apologizing for it bent over the kitchen table when you got home that night, manicured nails adding to the already bountiful collection of claw marks scratched into the polished wood.

To you, all those things were just the little ways he showed how much he truly cared.

You would’ve kept on ignoring it if not for the worried looks your close friends gave you each time you showed up to a weekly get together covered in fresh marks and bruises from being well loved. It grew frustrating having to submit to their scrutinizing over and over again. Quite honestly it had you rethinking your affiliation with them over their refusal to just drop it already.

No, he hadn’t really choked you last night. ‘But think what would happen if he did. He might not know his own strength!’

Let me ask Simon if it’s ok for me to come that weekend. ‘You shouldn’t need his permission to live your own life!’

That was just a happy coincidence that he noticed Sarah’s car out front and decided to pop in the other day. ‘How can you not see he’s stalking you?!’

It was easier to disregard their warnings than to heed them. They didn’t get Simon like you did, hadn’t spent enough time in his orbit to understand the intimate connection that tethered you to his very existence. With him there was no pretend at moderation for normalcy’s sake. Just the unimpeded loyalty that went beyond the acceptable standards of polite society.

That was just us… wasn’t it?

For as much as you protested otherwise, slowly but surely your friends’ words chipped away at your head, speaking into a subconsciousness that had been long shoved to the back in favor of romance and happily ever afters. Situations were analyzed from every angle for a hint of foul play. Spoken words were picked apart letter by letter for ulterior meanings. His once soothing touch now resulted in goosebumps that had nothing to do with the dampness of your gusset. 

You couldn’t deny the validity of some of their claims, the growing unease at the way he treated you. The curiousness of how he hinted to you about events that transpired that morning you hadn’t yet brought up. You hadn’t wanted to discover if that glint peeking out from behind the leaves of your fern on the top shelf of your bookcase was merely a trick of the light.

It was getting harder and harder to unblur the lines between devotion and obsession.

Friendly gatherings that used to be a time for unwinding and giggling over mimosas turned into laying out intricate battleplans for how best to escape him safely, keeping in mind his uncanny abilities as a soldier and the connections that came with it. 

It would have to be done while he was deployed, when he was stuck out in the field with no way to follow. Cash only, no debit. A new phone number. Renting out a secluded place under a fake name. The girls would put a duffle bag together for you that they would keep locked away in one of their closets. Most of your stuff would have to be left behind, only grabbing and smuggling out whatever you could easily carry in your purse. Your friends would all pitch in to provide the rest.

That’s how you found yourself standing in the threshold of the home you once enjoyed together, precious memories ghosting through rooms pulling at emotions you weren’t allowed to feel anymore. 

All that had to be in the past. Your future wasn’t his anymore.

After half a year of sharing your life with a man you had one day hoped you’d share a lifetime with, you sent him one last text of remorse for the unforeseen situation, wished him the best and begged for forgiveness with the closing line ‘don’t come looking’.

It killed you to lock the door behind you and walk away from it - from him - pathetically leaving your key under the mat and getting in the taxi parked out front which would take you to the first of many destinations. 

You hadn’t been involved in the planning aspect of this part, the girls taking care of all arrangements to keep anything from potentially popping up in your browsing history. They didn’t know what types of programs he had access to so high up in the military - the kinds of connections he’d made that would give him full access to every millimeter of your life. 

Were your electronics being hacked and monitored for suspicious activity? Was there a hidden tracking program running in the background on your phone? Cameras in your rooms invading your privacy?

There was an extreme amount of paranoia surrounding this whole endeavor. One false step and they could just be leading you right back into his awaiting and dangerous arms. 

Part of you wasn’t entirely sure if that was such a bad thing. Even now, sitting on a train bound for the middle of nowhere, you didn’t really want to leave him. 

It was a complex war between your head and your heart. For all his faults, Simon never made you feel inferior or worthless, a common complaint you had about past relationships filled with less than ideal treatment. He’d been supportive of your hobbies and dreams, not belittling of them. He didn’t blink at your weird quirks or have unexpected violent outbursts whenever you interrupted his private time. He took you out on dates and narrowed his eyes when you’d tried to bring your wallet with, taking exception to the notion of you paying before you explained you’d never not had to.

(‘just need a little fuckin’ to sort that habit right outta you’, he’d claimed afterwards with your knees pushed back to your ears and his girth pounding away at your insides)

But your friends said this was for the better. They had your best interests at heart, supporting you in your efforts to get as far away from London as you could to start anew, someplace far out in the open countryside where you had no family or connections to link back to you. 

Two switched train lines, a crowded bus, and another cab ride later, you were finally holed up with your scarce belongings in a room half the size of your old apartment with three other roommates you didn’t know. It hadn’t taken long to unpack all your belongings, counting the money stashed away in a hidden envelope to see how much you had to get by with until you found yourself a proper job out here. 

But hunting for that would start tomorrow. Tonight, you just wanted to sleep off the exhaustion after a full day’s worth of travel.

You ignored the overwhelming sense of loneliness curled up on a thin creaky mattress under a scratchy worn quilt, checking your new phone at the end of the night to read the various well wishes and best of luck’s from your friends, texting the group chat to let them know you’d made it safe and sound and would update them tomorrow morning. Just as you went to turn your phone off for the night, you noticed an unread message from an unknown number waiting in your inbox - odd, considering the girls had been the ones who bought it for you and put in all their contact info ahead of time. They should’ve been the only ones with access to this number. 

‘Must just be spam’, you rationalized to yourself, moving your thumb to swipe it into trash… but hesitating. You didn’t know why you felt the need to click on it instead, a gnawing dread in your gut speaking against the denial in your brain. 

You opened it.

The world came to a halt, stomach roiling with nausea as you whimpered in alarm, the hand holding your phone trembling as you read it over and over again, committing the words to memory. You shoved the phone under your pillow as if putting it out of sight would solve all your problems, yanking the covers up over your head and squeezing your eyes shut tight.

Sleep didn't come easy to you that night or any of the ones following - not as you were continuously haunted by the lingering shadow of the impossible message left for you by your now ex boyfriend.

‘I’ll see you in a month.’

What you thought was perfect at first glance was in fact dappled and moth ridden with substantial holes. What's more, you knew he knew it too.

The following month was spent in a state of constant terror, insecurity laced through your nervous system like a shot of fentanyl in your veins. Even from so far a distance Simon toyed with your fragile mind. Wanted you to fester in unknown anticipation, a stillness in the air that felt more like the deep breath before the plunge, the prelude to an eventual inevitability heralded by those six little words.

It invaded every aspect of your daily routine. Too paranoid of the foreboding message, you tried to leave your new abode as infrequently as possible, burning through your savings on first month's rent and utilities, the small percentage that went towards paying for groceries. Incorrectly assuming you’d have acquired new employment by now to cover your remaining expenses, you closed out the tabs for the job websites with a huff of anguished frustration, rough fingers combing through frazzled hair and faltering in the act of actually searching. 

If you succeeded in landing a job then you'd have to subject yourself to a series of background checks, anonymity tossed out the window the moment you were added to an identifiable government database ripe for the picking. With that startling realization, everything you and the girls spent weeks trying your best to account for suddenly unravelled into a jumbled disaster of good intentions, second guessing your decisions made like a paltry amateur playing chess against a grandmaster. 

Did you really think you could build a new identity in such a short amount of time, hiding in plain sight in a world under constant surveillance without the aid of black market assistance? Sooner or later you’d find yourself in a situation where you’d be forced to interact with society in a way that would put you on the radar and then what would you do? Hell, you couldn't avoid using a bank account or making online purchases forever, not in an age where technology was woven into the very fabric of our lives and required for just about everything. 

You hadn't even made friends with the people you shared the modest sized dwellings with - so at odds with your naturally extroverted personality - for fear of showing up on someone’s social media page and making it even easier to be located. It drove you to isolationism, standing on the sidelines as you watched helplessly from behind an invisible wall as you slowly transformed into an anxiety ridden shell of the carefree spirit you'd been once upon a time. 

As the days dragged onward, you grew more and more skittish, crossing off days on the calendar as if they were X's on a prison cell.

There had been no more messages, an ominous sign in and of itself. You knew Simon, knew what he could become - what he became after he walked in the door still dressed to kill from weeks spent bathing in gore, the remnants of decay wrapping around the edges and bleeding through the stark shell of his mask. He never turned that creature on you, but you could see it sometimes when he thought he'd tucked it away on a carefully controlled leash. Waiting for the next satisfying hunt.

That's what you were now. Prey. A fun little game for him to sink his teeth into, blissfully unaware of the impending danger until bloodied fangs shredded flesh and feasted away at your squishy entrails.

You’d wrongly assumed you were the type of clever rabbit to be tracked through thick mud and dense underbrush, something squirrelly and quick-witted who could easily outsmart the overestimating wolf’s salivating maw… 

When in reality, you’d only ever been the kind of quarry he could just simply waltz out back and drag from her comfy caged-in bunny burrow of false security.

You didn't fight him when he showed up a month later as promised, bag already packed and a letter sitting on the kitchen island for your roommates explaining the sudden departure, taking up nervous vigilance on the front porch steps leading to the house like an obedient dog waiting for its master. You didn’t try to make a last ditch effort to escape as the familiar SUV turned the corner of your street to where he knew you’d been hiding all along.

Simon didn’t say anything as he pulled up to the curb and stepped out of the imposing black vehicle, the very picture of casual arrogance as he walked around the car and strolled up the pavement as if his name was written on the deed. Immediately shooting to your feet and slinging your duffle over your shoulder, you met him halfway down the drive so as not to upset him further, the unrelenting weight of his gravity drawing you back into his marrow and shackling you to his heart.

You shouldn't have felt instant relief to be once again shadowed in his towering presence; gone misty eyed when for the first time in weeks you'd craned your neck up to gaze upon those pooling brown irises leering down at you with a stone eyed look of condescension. The scarred hand on your cheek felt mocking, the soft cooing at your pitiful whimpers and quivering lower lip sending you back into the welcoming headspace that - despite the warning bells going off inside your mind - had missed the serenity that came with his unbridled toxic love.

One could only guess at the harsh punishments he'd enact for this, the further restrictions he'd place on your freedom, the biting sting of his belt tanning your backside with mottled discoloration.

But he was here now. Things would be alright again. He'd retake the mantle of caring for your person and make things easy for your simple addled brain.

Just a dumb little bunny who realized a little too late that she’d never actually left the wolf's den in the first place.

The warm tantalizing scent of savory Italian cuisine wafted out through the doorway that led to the kitchen beyond, mouthwatering and succulent as it floated to where you sat curled up on the couch, absentmindedly itching at the still inflamed skin at the nape of your neck. Simon would have to put more lotion on the site later after dinner, not wanting to reopen the recently healed over scab. 

“Tracker botherin’ you?” he asked as he rounded the corner from the kitchen into the living room with two plates in hand, perking up at his presence and smiling as he placed one in front of you on the coffee table. The Stanley Cup Playoffs were tonight and he was allowing you to watch it with him after a string of good behavior. Even went out and bought you your favorite team’s jersey for the occasion.

You eagerly dug into the homemade pasta dish, moaning at the taste of cheesy alfredo on your tongue and speaking through a mouthful of buttery garlic bread hidden behind your palm. “A little. Can I keep the collar off, just for tonight?”

He hummed in consideration as he took up his spot on the couch next to you, tugging you to his side possessively and brushing your hair out of the way to examine the irritated flesh. He’d neglected to put your collar back on after your shower earlier, a little treat for the game tonight. “Keep bein’ good f’me and we’ll see.”

You beamed up at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek once you’d swallowed your food. It’s not that you didn’t enjoy wearing the item in question - you quite liked the one he picked out for you after bringing you back home a few weeks prior, the way it sparkled in the light and the meaning of ‘his’ ingrained in every stitch. It would just be easier to get to sleep without the soft lining on the inside rubbing up against and chaffing the still healing skin.

But Simon knew best. If the collar came back on then you would wear it happily without a squeak of complaint. 

After all, everything was perfect now that you were back where you belonged.

[theseance444]

TW: dark RP, drugs, addiction, violence, etc.

For @riverjphoeniix

How many days had it been? Three? Four? Maybe longer. Maybe forever. But a drug den was better than sleeping on the street, he'd reasoned, and came with more perks. Of course, since everyone left the Academy, he'd never had a stable living situation. Not that he'd heard from his siblings in years, anyway. No, fuck them, fuck the ghosts, and fuck his superpowers. He didn't need any of it.

Laying on a dirty, bare mattress, in the back of an abandoned warehouse, Klaus had stepped off the deep end. In the dimly lit room, he couldn't help but watch how the flickering lights cast shadows on the walls. He must be in between hits, he realized, as he was now vaguely conscious. Emphasis on "vaguely", as he quickly found when he tried to sit up; his body felt like it was full of rocks. Heavy, uncomfortable, braindead. But still numb enough to stave off the spirits.

Except, of course, the judgemental, sad eyes of his dead brother. Klaus could almost see him, like a mirage watching him from across the room. Making sure his chest was still moving, his heart still beating. He would've appreciated it, too, if he didn't know he was going to get chewed out as soon as he came down. But that certainly wasn't about to happen.

Unless--where the fuck was his dope pipe? Klaus slowly turned his head to look around, barely able to focus his vision. The cracked glass he'd passed out holding was now gone. God dammit, these junkies! Not that Klaus would've done differently, but still.

"Guys, c'mon, that's not cool..."

Using all of his willpower, the former seance pushed himself to his feet. Immediately he swayed, head swimming as he leaned against the wall for support. Somewhere distance, he could hear Ben trying to get his attention, but ignored it in favor of looking for a pipe to steal back. Lurching through the rooms unsteadily, Klaus didn't realize he was close to the front door until he heard a rapid, heavy handed knock. In the back of his mind, Ben was yelling for him.

"Uh...hello?"

Then one word made it through the haze. Police. Frozen in place, Klaus could do nothing but watch as the door was kicked down in front of him.

[reyla-the-black-wolf]

My Heart speaks for you (Part 3)

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✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: fluff, a bit of flirting?, slight hints of anxiety, nightmare but with happy ending

Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?

Music:

Let it all out on me - Houses on the Hill

Codex - Joel Sunny

Snowfall - Øneheart (8D Audio)

Part 1 ⎮Part 2⎮Part 3⎮Part 4⎮

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Golden rays of sunshine fell on my face, leaves casting shadows onto my features. The forest around me smelled of wet moss and fresh rain, and the bittersweet scent of resin and delicate heather wafted through the air from afar, while the birds above sang their melodies merrily. 

I stood beside a birch tree, just as Eris had described, enjoying the last beams of sunlight and waited for him. The forest around me was painted in every autumnal shade imaginable, making it seem like a whole different world, the leaves competing to see who had the richest colours. It was breathtaking.

I had seen autumn in the Night Court, but it would never compare to the view surrounding me.

I spun around, my feet dancing across the spongy moss. Captivated by the glory of it all, I didn´t notice the light footsteps coming from behind. Someone chuckled, making me turn around to see the Autumn Court heir leaning against the bark of a tree. An amused smile played across his lips as he watched me. Of course, he looked as stunning as ever in his crimson tunic and fiery hair. 

A blush spread across my cheeks and my body tensed under his gaze. Suddenly the air felt too hot. Too dry. A certain heat radiating off him. Just breathe. No need to be nervous.

„Welcome to the Autumn Court, y/n! I´m delighted you accepted my invitation.“ He spoke as he walked towards me, extending his hand. Uncertain, I placed my hand in his. Gods, it was so small compared to his. His lips brushed my knuckles as he kissed them in a deep bow, the pink blush on my cheeks increasing. 

He straightened and looked at me, another smile creeping over his lips as he noticed my cheeks. 

Completely oblivious of how to react to his actions, I just stared at him like some love-drunk maiden. 

„Come on then, I´ll show you my home.“ He waved and began to move deeper into the forest. I snapped out of my daze and quickly followed, my hands in my pockets.

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We strolled through the woods for about five minutes when I remembered what was hidden in one of my pockets. Pulling it out, I showed Eris a small notebook, encouraging him to open it when he gave me a puzzled look. His fingers grazed mine as he grasped the book, sending a shiver over my skin. 

„So we can talk, even without words.“ and „Why did you invite me here? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me after what happened at the council meeting?“ - was written on the first page. He looked at me for a few seconds, hurt and confusion flashing in his eyes, before he answered. „I invited you because I want to get to know you better, otherwise I wouldn´t have written you this letter.“ Shame crawled into my gut. Of course. „And not only because you´re my mate, but back on Starfall you were the first person in a long time to listen to me without judgement.“ His answer surprised me, as I hadn´t expected him to be so honest and a tickling sensation settled in my stomach when he called me his mate. „So let me ask you, what is your life like? What should I know about you?“ he asked, stopping and staring directly at me with a challenging glint in his amber eyes, lowering his body to tower over me. His hands were crossed politely behind his back.

I pulled a pen from my pocket and quickly jotted down my answer. „You can ask me anything you like. I´ve got nothing to hide, fox.“ 

Eris laughed at the nickname and it was one of the most beautiful sounds I´ve ever heard. It was a deep and full laugh, smooth as silk and honey and with a touch of incredulity and irony, it melted right into my soul. „Careful, little dove. Foxes have sharp teeth and you certainly don´t want to meet mine.“ His intense gaze should´ve made me nervous, but instead it only spurred me on. In his presence, I didn´t have to play the shy girl or the cursed princess. I felt I could be myself. 

„Do you think you can intimidate me that easily, Eris Vanserra? So go ahead, ask me your questions.“ When I showed him what I had written down, he looked back at me with surprise in his features and something else I couldn´t quite put my finger to, so I put on my most defiant expression, raised one eyebrow and dared not look away. 

But a cheeky grin crept up my lips, causing me to break the stare and hide my smile, but Eris grabbed my shoulder and pulled me towards him, his chest almost touching mine. He was so tall, I had to lean back to look up at him. 

„Do that again.“ His breath swept over my face as I blinked at him, dumbfounded. „Smile again.“ So I did and gave him a coy smile. „You have a lovely smile, little dove.“ His other hand came up to caress my cheek, making me blush again. It felt rough and soft at the same time, and a lump formed in the back of my throat as I felt a heat building in my stomach. The tips of my pointed ears flushed. Something about that nickname made me feel... safe. The Eris everyone had told me about wasn´t the one standing in front of me, that´s for sure. 

I tried my best not to close my eyes and lean into his touch, not wanting this moment to end. 

When the silence turned to embarrassment, he cleared his throat and let go of my shoulder. „I can ask you anything I want?“ he asked, earning a look of annoyance from me in return, and chuckled. „Okay, fine. I´ll leave a couple questions behind. But hurry now, I want to show you something.“ He urged me forward, putting his hands behind my back. „Come on now. Otherwise we´ll miss it.“ I couldn´t hide another grin at his behaviour.  

We continued wandering through the woods, and he asked me any question that came to his mind. What do I like eating most? What do I do in my spare time, and what are my favourite flowers? What sights should he visit in Velaris? He was genuinely interested in me and my life, and I happily wrote down my answers to every single question. I `told´ him about my life in Velaris and what it was like to grow up in the Night Court.

At some point during our `conversation´, his questions became even more philosophical. Why are we born into this world? What do I think our purpose is, and do we even have one? I could feel myself relaxing more and more with each question he asked. With every twist and turn around the trees. With every minute the sun set deeper, until the last sunrays fell weakly through the treetops. 

Whether it was the fact that I was his mate that drew me to him, I didn´t care. I was beginning to like him. For himself. The self he probably didn´t show very often, if ever, in front of others. I liked him not because of this bond between us, but because he treated me kindly. Because he made me feel like I could be myself around him, and that meant a lot to me. Even though he would never know that.

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It must have been an hour later when Eris ignited a flame in the palm of his hand to provide us with some light. It had gone pitch black now that the sun had finally bid us farewell, only for her sister to shine as brightly as ever on the sky canopy.

My fingertips tingled and a blissful warmth built up in my chest as the heat of the flame gently stroked my skin. 

„Don´t worry, we´ll be right there.“ He said, noticing my worried look. I scribbled something on a page and showed it to him. 

„Yes, there are. But don´t be afraid little dove, the terrors of the night won´t find or harm us.“ I nodded slowly and closed the journal, putting it back in my pocket.

Two minutes later, Eris suddenly came to a halt and I bumped into his side. We were standing at the edge of a forest glade. The lush grass swayed gently in the night breeze, and the faint chirping of crickets filled the air. 

„This is what I wanted to show you, y/n.“ I looked up at him, utterly confused. Even more so when he just smiled at me, the flame in his hand died and Eris started to run out into the field. 

I didn´t understand what was going on at first, but what happened then absolutely stole my breath. 

Everywhere, fireflies ascended from the grasses into the night sky like lost stars. They danced and swirled around each other, bathing the clearing in a soft green, yellowish light. The crickets acted as a perfect orchestra, playing a sensual waltz as the fireflies soared higher and higher with each note. My mouth fell open and tears formed in my eyes. It was breathtaking. Amazing. Glorious. Without realising it, laughter broke out. But not Eris´s. No, it was mine. I was laughing! Totally mesmerised by the phenomenon before my eyes. A natural spectacle of the greatest beauty. A circus of floating lights. The magnificence of it all poured into my soul, warming me from the inside out as I shivered in anticipation. 

Eris turned when he heard my laughter, not even surprised that I actually made a sound, and waved me over. „Come here!“ He called, laughing as well. I walked slowly towards him, trying not to scare the fireflies away. The grass brushed my trousers and caressed my hands as I glided through it. Every now and then a single firefly landed on my shoulder to rest.

When I stopped in front of Eris, he looked down at me with a mischievous grin on his delicate lips. We stood so close I could hear his heartbeat and feel his hot breath tickling the tip of my nose. As we stared at each other in rapt, tears began to trickle down my cheeks as I was overwhelmed by... well, by everything. His hands cupped my face, brushing away the tears in comforting circles. „I assume you like it?“ He chuckled and I nodded, looking down. More tears streamed down my cheeks as another laugh escaped my throat. If I had to describe this moment, I´d say nothing but pure joy enveloped my body. „You should laugh more often, little dove. It suits you.“ His soothing voice sank into my being as I peered up at him with big doe eyes. I realised how wild and carefree I felt in his embrace. And how trapped I felt in my own home, with my own family.

The fireflies were reflected in his own eyes. They blended with the honey in them, making them sparkle even more. He looked truly magnificent. I turned around once, gesturing wildly with my hands at the clearing around us, and when I met his gaze again, my lips parted to speak, but I faltered. Instead, I mouthed „Thank you“ and gave him a graceful smile. „I appreciate it, but there is no need to thank me.“ He gestured to the ground and a plaid blanket appeared out of nowhere. 

We lay down side by side, gazing up at the fireflies floating above our heads and the dazzling stars on the firmament. I stretched my hand and accidentally touched his. My breath caught for a second, but Eris didn´t pull away, he even brushed his fingers over mine. The gentle movement made me close my eyes and exhaled deeply.

So there we lay. Enjoying this peaceful moment of life together. Right now I didn´t care what my family or anyone else thought about him. I just longed to stay like this forever and never leave this place, even though I knew I had to. But that didn´t matter now. 

„I found this clearing when I was a child.“ I opened my eyes and shifted to look at him. „Always ran away from my mother to explore the woods, you know? My brothers tried to follow me, but they could never catch up.“ He huffed. „What can I say? I´ve got some speed.“ I couldn´t help giggling at his own comment. „It´s become a safe haven for me. And it can be a safe haven for you too.“ Interest glinted in my eyes. „I use my magic to keep this clearing out of sight of any unwelcome visitors. In other words, my family will never find you here, so you can come and go as you please.“ I gave him a coy smile. „Only if you want to, of course.“ He added quickly. To show him I understood and honoured the fact, that out of all people he showed me his safe place, I squeezed his hand lightly in mine and the tips of his ears turned a shade darker. Was the Eris Vanserra blushing? Because of me? I tried to hold back a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him. As I rolled back onto my back, I tried to pull my hand away, but Eris wrapped his fingers between mine and gripped them tightly. It caught me by surprise, but didn´t bother me at all. 

So we returned to staring at the night sky, lying in the grass and listening to the crickets for I don´t know how long. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Cauldron, it´s late! I have to go. I shivered and rose abruptly from the ground, causing Eris to follow my movement. „Wait, y/n! I know you have to leave, but I´ve got one more little surprise for you.“ he said, still holding onto my wrist. He reached into an inside pocket of his tunic and pulled out a long, golden shimmering amulet, adorned with fine, ruby-coloured jewels that glistened under the moonlight. „If you´re ever in trouble, tap the gem in the middle and I´ll know and find you.“ I gratefully accepted the necklace and tucked it safely into my jacket. 

„Take care, little dove.“ He said farewell. „Goodbye.“ I mouthed, winnowing home. 

Little did I know what was waiting for me in my bedroom. 

I flinched, when I spotted my father´s stern face, his arms crossed. „I hope you have a good explanation for why you´re out of bed, young lady!“ His enraged tone made my hair stand on end.

That meant trouble ahead. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

„It´s the middle of the night! Where have you been?“ „We were worried about you. You can´t just disappear, darling.“ „Are you all right? Are you hurt?“ 

My parents bombarded me with questions and I couldn´t answer any of them. Of course, I didn´t want to tell them that I had gone to Autumn Court to see Eris, because they would probably become even more worried and I didn´t want to risk that. 

But apparently I didn´t have to say anything. 

My father sniffed the air and before I could cover my scent, he growled. „You were with him.“ His voice was deep and menacing. „I thought we agreed you weren´t to see that... that jerk. He´s dangerous, darling.“ The expression on my father´s face perfectly displayed his anger and disappointment. Something inside me stirred at his insult and I wanted to protect Eris, so unconsciously my hands clenched into fists. „Why did you meet him?“ My mother tried to ease the tension by speaking in a calmer manner than her husband, but I just stood there, frozen, not looking at her. 

Sharp talons scraped carefully along my mind, demanding to be let in, but the hurricane that protected my thoughts only tightened, sending my father´s claws away and causing him to flinch at the unexpected defence. I knew he wanted to know what had happened between Eris and me, but he also would never enter my thoughts without permission. 

„Do you want to know why we´re not overly fond of him?“ He sighed, his tone was kinder this time, and my mother threw him a glance as if to say, `Are you sure?´ 

Do I really want to know why they don´t like him? Do I really want to know the answer to that? I wasn´t sure, but in the end my curiosity got the better of me and I nodded. 

So they began. 

They told me everything as the moonlight streamed in through the windows, illuminating my room with an eerie light. From Mor´s escape from Hewn City to what Eris had done to her and how Uncle Az had found her on that terrible day years ago. Also that Eris had once hunted my mother. They told me every detail. 

„He left her. Eris simply left her on the ground with nothing but a note nailed to her stomach.“ My father´s darkness swirled in the corners of my room as my mother gently stroked his arm to calm him. „I will never forget the moment Azriel brought her back. How he held her in his arms. And I will never forget when he was hunting for your mother, how he…“ he hesitated. „What your father is trying to say, sweetheart, is that Eris is not a good man.“ My mother said. „He is no more a good man than his father. Which is another reason.“ 

I wanted to believe them. I wanted to believe that Eris was the awful man they told me he was, but I couldn´t forget the man I had met. The way he had laughed when we walked through the forest earlier. The way his eyes had lit up when he heard me laughing.

I couldn´t. I didn´t want to! 

„The other reason we don´t like him, to put it mildly, is his father.“ She took a deep breath. „You must understand that Beron is... he is a cruel man, honey. High Lord or not.“ „The fact that Eris,“ my father clearly struggled with his next words, „is your mate means that you would live with him at Autumn Court because he´s the heir. But only if the bond snaps for you too.“ He came closer and cupped my shoulders, caressing them gently. „Starlight, don´t get me wrong. I´m more than happy that you´ve found your mate, it´s just that I wish it was someone more trustworthy.“ Slowly he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. „Your mother and I just want to know that you´re safe. And the Autumn Court is anything but.“ Both my parents pulled me into a tight embrace. I let myself be surrounded by their love and warmth, but there was still that feeling. A feeling hidden deep inside my soul that tried to protest. The perfect little daughter, aren´t you? Always obedient and quiet, huh? Before my inner critic got too powerful, I shoved those thoughts away. 

„My little star, please promise us you won´t see him again? It´s only for your own safety, okay?“ They looked at me with longing in their eyes. Hoping that I would agree with them. Déjà-vu. 

I took a deep breath, silenced my thoughts and looked straight at my parents. I will not back down. Not this time! 

Fake happiness sneaked into my eyes and I nodded, making them sigh and give me each a kiss on the forehead. They just have to believe I won´t meet Eris again. But who said I´d actually do it? I wanted to know his side of the story and I would find out, even if it hurt. 

With these thoughts, my parents wished me good night and left me alone in my room. I quickly washed myself, put on my pyjamas and lay down. My pillows enveloped me like cotton candy clouds and lulled me to sleep almost immediately.

The evening might have been imperfect in the end, but I wasn´t going to let the conversation with my parents ruin the wonderful experience with Eris. And as I thought about him, I soon drifted off into a pleasant sleep.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

It stared at me. The beast without eyes. The beast of many names. It stared. Devouring everything and everyone. Its waves tore at me like a rough wind on a stormy day. It tried to suffocate me. To steal my air. Help me! I need to breathe!

It circled around me and then...! A piercing pain shot through my entire being. It attacked. Again and again. Sinking its sharp claws into my flesh and knocking the air out of my lungs. I was drowning more and more in this all consuming place of nothingness. But this time... something had changed. Something inside me awakened. It growled and fought to get out. 

Another cruel pain shot through me, making this creature inside me even angrier. And then I struck back. I kicked into the darkness around me. I kicked and punched in every direction when suddenly a gut-wrenching scream escaped from the depths of my soul and the blackness around me shook. Every fibre of my being trembled and the darkness ripped itself apart until I collapsed, completely exhausted. 

My eyes were closed, waiting for the beast to strike again, but nothing happened. No sound, nor any noise could be heard. Just silence, floating like a boat on waves of crystal blue water, and my heavy breathing. 

I slowly opened my eyes and sat up. My hands met the ground beneath me. Solid ground! The darkness was still there, but it wasn´t moving. As if watching what would happen next, and just as I was thinking about that, something caught my eye. I turned my head to see a tiny spark glittering in front of me. It flickered again and continued to spread. It grew and grew until a dazzling fire crackled just a few paces out of reach. The flames flickered wildly, and glowing sparks flew in every direction. But instead of backing away, I held up a hand and reached straight into the flames. It should have burned my palm. Burned my flesh down to the bones into ashes. But out of every scenario, it diminished. It calmed down, and its blinding flames retreated, only to reveal a bright orange pelt. 

A fox. A little fox sat in front of me, staring at me with its big, black button eyes. It squeaked and sniffed in my direction. There was something familiar about it. The mischievous gleam in its eyes and the tiny, sharp-edged teeth that showed when it yawned. Cautiously he took a step forward. The tapping of his paws echoed through the brightening surroundings, and his fur shone as if it had been born of fire itself. What a beautiful little creature. He took a few more steps towards me and then lay down carefully in my lap. Completely amazed, I reached out to stroke its fluffy appearance. I was even more surprised when the little fox began to purr like a cat, interrupted now and then by a squeak. 

I didn´t know where it was coming from, but soft rays of sunlight poured in and chased the shadowy beast back to where it had come from. Something settled deep in my chest and the little creature in my lap stroked its head against my hand. The light grew brighter by the second until my vision blurred.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

@tele86 @circe143 @impossibelle @st4r-girl-official @cherry-cin @lilah-asteria

[ms--lobotomy]

Horus thoughts. Tagging @angronsjewelbeetle because we were discussing this too. (I need to make a taglist at this point. Who wants in?) (Also this one's for the boys! Hi boys!)

Summary: Horus Lupercal belt loop tugging

Word Count: 857

Content Warnings: Male reader, suggestive? horus more like whorus, not really any plot just kinda y'all being cute together

Image Credit: @squishyowl

It was late at night when you retired to your room. Horus had no need to sleep, but he'd lay in bed night after night for you and you alone. You never knew it when you were sound asleep next to him, but he'd run his hands through your hair and press kisses to your forehead as he relaxed into you. You were still up though, sitting at the edge of his bed, your legs swinging over the side. You were about as tall as you were standing, up to maybe his waist height.

"Tired?" he asked, standing in front of you. He'd cast a shadow had he been in the right lighting, but you were closest to the light. Your smaller form left a little trace on him.

You looked at his belt. He was clad in a brightly colored linen shirt, his chest peeking out. A gold chain adorned his neck, darkly yellow against his pale skin. He had covered his fingers in rings, there was one on almost every finger. Most of them were gold, too. His pants were a dark brown leather, something you would never wear in this season on Terra. They were held up by a black leather belt, its buckle a simple gold thing.

"Not in particular."

You eyed the loops holding up his belt. They were loose enough for you to slip your fingers through. Before another word could escape his lips, you snaked your fingers through his belt loops. You pulled him in.

He looked surprised for a moment, before the corner of his mouth tilted up and he began to follow your lead. He crossed his arms and smirked down at you, his warm honey-brown eyes regarding you with playful curiosity. You felt his hips buck slightly by your hands, and your heart skipped a beat.

As you froze, he leaned down and tilted your head up. You watched as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing your forehead. "Well?" he asked. His voice was husky, yet commanding. "You wanted me closer, darling, and hear I am." His smirk had turned into a full-on mischievous grin.

You whimpered, your grip still tight on his belt loops. Shit.

He kept your chin in his hand as he knelt to the ground. He let out a chuckle as your fingers fell out of his belt loops. Your hands remained in the air for a few moments, grasping at nothing before they rested on Horus's shoulders. The fabric was surprisingly soft under your fingers, bright red and purple and gold shapes interwoven with one another.

"Well?"

You locked eyes with him, a shiver running down your spine. You were frozen in place now, your hands tensing up upon his shoulders. Your breathing was erratic. Against your better judgement you were hyperventilating now, and Horus's smile quickly became less cocky and more inviting.

"Oh, fuck," you said in barely audible tones. "I think... I think I forgot how to breathe."

He lowered himself to eye level with you. "You have?" His breath was shaky on your face. "Come on, darling. I don't want you passing out on me."

Your breaths began to even out with his. He looked at you, his warm gaze intoxicating.

"You need to breathe, okay?" he asked, putting his hands to your waist. "For me. Come on..." he trailed off as you matched your breathing to his. "Deep breaths, that's it..."

You ran your hands along his shirt, bunching up the loose fabric. You tugged on him again, and he let out a breathy chuckle.

"Good boy," he said as your breaths evened out further. "Pretty boy... there you go." He ran his thumb along your lips, slightly parting them. You felt your heart thump wildly in your chest, but your breathing was even now. "That's it, breathe for me."

You stared him in the eyes, still wordless. You wrapped your arms around him as his mouth brushed against yours, twice its size. Your lips parted into a smile as you let out a nervous laugh. His other hand was at the nape of your neck now, his thumb trailing over what skin or scalp it could.

He pressed his mouth to yours, letting you pull him in by his shirt. He was gentle with you, about as gentle as a man his size could be. He eased his tongue into your mouth and you let out an "mmh!" as you pulled him in closer. Before long he relented, and slightly pulled out.

"There's my pretty boy," he said, smoothing your hair a little bit before he went in again. This time, he was rougher, pulling you in with both of his hands. You tugged on his shirt again, pulling both of you down to the bed. He didn't resist; rather, he planted both of his arms next to you, pinning you down. His sleeves went up to around 3/4 length on his arms, and they were rolled up.

He leaned down to put his lips to yours, meet your tongue with his, and you knew you were going to be in for a long night.

[pugh-bug]

No.42 Chapter 5

Art Donaldson x reader slow burn friends to lovers

As always I hope you enjoy! 🍉✨ My taglist is always open

Part 4

——————————————————————

‘Pass me the sauce now bitch!’

Patrick responded by throwing a pillow at your head. Mature.

‘You’d never talk to Art like that.’ He looked amused for a moment, a smirk brewing as his eyes darted from Art’s face to yours. The three of you were eye deep in miso sauce, spring rolls and pad thai - Art’s treat. It was almost strange, seeing Art eat take out in your cosy flat knowing he probably had a maid growing up. You’d once heard Liam say Art’s parents place was obnoxiously bigger than even Tashi Duncan’s, as if you needed further convincing of his affluence.

Still, he was settled. He seemed it. He always thanked you for washing up or tidying, if he wasn’t offering or doing it himself, as if he was content with living lesser than his other peers. Of course they all had maids for the sort of things you and Patrick did, or pretended to do on lazy days, but Art never announced judgement. Besides his constant bantering with Patrick and the occasional dig at you for not being too sporty, Art was always pleasant. Pleasant or impressively good at bottling things in.

‘That’s because Y/N,’ Art raised his eyebrow at Patrick’s smirking face. ‘Actually has manners, she just doesn’t waste them on you.’ The pair beamed at each other, as they always did when they were ‘arguing’ over you. It was almost expected for you now, owed even. You loved it.

——————————————————————

‘I don’t get this movie, why’s it just talking?’

You’d decided to put ‘When Harry Met Sally’ on as a break from the constant tennis. The background drum of your life had become the incessant whacking of tennis balls, if it didn’t make Art so content you’d have quickly deleted SkySports.

Patrick half watched half texted his now ex girlfriend back, to your dismay. It wasn’t long before he’d finished his food, shovelling it in like an animal as always, and announced he was going to bed. He ruffled your hair in his brotherly way before returning to his room. The door had barely closed before Art paused the movie from his spot on the floor.

‘Do you agree?’

You looked down at Art’s inquisitive face and the charming face of 80s Meg Ryan, knowing what he meant. Harry had just made his ‘men and women can’t be friends’ speech. You shoved the blanket off your hot legs to escape the extra heat and settled into your couch position comfortably.

‘Do you see me fucking Pat?’

Art grinned widely, almost boyishly, at your remark. You noticed he seemed to get almost giddy whenever you were a little crude, like you both intimidated and entertained him simultaneously. He hung his head, still smiling, before shaking it. ‘No but just - just tell me. I wanna know what you really think.’

No man ever wanted to know how you really thought more than Art. He’d asked you more about your beliefs and emotions than a reporter on the cusp of ‘making it big’. You seemed almost to be his scoop, his challenge, his big win but you wondered what would happen when you ran out of answers.

He was waiting for you to speak. Eager. You cast your mind back to all of your past male friendships, the times they hit on you unexpectedly or bullied you to ‘flirt’ or worst of all: told you they’d never seen you as a friend at all. That one always hurt. Most of those friendships had hurt and most of them had left Patrick waving the ‘not all men’ flag proudly as he stood victorious. The last man standing. Your last good, platonic best friend.

‘You can ask all you want Donaldson, I don’t see Patrick that way.’

He wasn’t completely satisfied with your answer, or he made sure he wasn’t just to encourage his own bad behaviour.

‘Not once? You’re telling me you two never had too much to drink or got dared? Not even spin the bottle when you were like 14?’

‘Sorry to disappoint.’

He looked elated and horrified all at once. The man was desperate and for a moment you couldn’t tell if he was devastated more for Patrick or for you.

‘What made you turn the poor guy down?’

Oh. For Patrick.

‘What makes you so sure he asked me out? Didn’t you watch the movie?’

Art finished his last spring roll, shaking his head. ‘I watched the movie that said ‘men and women can’t be friends’ a hundred times.’ He crossed his legs, his baggy t shirt exposing his collarbone. Ashamed as you were, you couldn’t deny the urge you had to just bite and kiss him. That made your following question all the more ironic.

‘So you don’t think men and women can just be friends?’

You made sure to ask it in such a way that implied he was wrong, foolish for believing something so immature despite your very thoughts proving him right.

‘I think if she’s attracted to guys and he likes girls it can’t ever be just a friendship. Sorry.’

‘Hmm.’

You listened to the sad sound of Patrick’s fan fighting for its life against the heatwave. Every time you and Art had a moment of silence the whir of the fan provided ambience.

‘You wanna wash up?’ Art asked, as if he was offering a special treat of some kind and not your least favourite task of all time.

‘Not even a little bit.’

That was when he did it, what until that point only Patrick had been honoured enough to do, he ruffled your hair. A small gesture? Absolutely. One you’d forget? Unlikely.

Once Art was elbow deep in washing up liquid he asked you a question he’d been longing to ask you for days. Did you enjoy living with him?

‘Of course I do.’ You couldn’t help but scoff at his question. Was he truly that insecure? Still, you revelled in messing with him a little - just for fun. ‘I’m happy for Pat, he always wanted a boyfriend to move in. He finally committed.’ That earned you a splash of noodle water to the face. A long pause followed, one that lead you to believe it was time for bed.

‘I am grateful,’ Art sighed, his voice low and his eyes down. ‘I know I could have asked my parents to get me my own place but …’ You watched him stop scrubbing the plate in his hand all together, his eyes unfocused. ‘I don’t like being alone.’

With his back to you, Art stacked the pots with intense precision. You weren’t sure what to say except:

‘Who does?’

Chapter 6

Masterlist

Taglist: @gatorgirl007 @imblushingrn @soy-garbage

[phonkscribes]

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

Right as the they are about to descend off that cliff, thrown off that ledge, you are there. Your arm hauls them up with a certain strength to them, the sinews in your arms flexing. At that moment, they're unable to say a word, too busy taking in the sight of you as you utter your witty line or carry on as if it weren't an issue-- effortless.

Saving the Spardas asses when they don't expect you to. ft. GN! Reader

Dante

He's fallen off of cliffs and such before, whether it was due to a missed jump or simply because he's gotten knocked out of the air. Dante tries to not make a habit out of it, but it's not like he's doing it intentionally. The legendary devil hunter just happens to be a bit less patient than his brother, even after all these years. There's just some things that don't change, like his eagerness to fight demons, even if it scares him. He isn't mortal, he won't die if he's shot or stabbed, there isn't much that could kill him-- like falling and hitting his head. It'd just hurt if anything, but maybe that's something that you didn't know.

Or at least cared for.

A hit from the devil he was fighting has him thrown back with a grunt, the sound is distinct on your ears as you whip around to see his crimson jacket flail in the wind along with him in it. You make another slash at the devils coming after you to go and chase his flying figure. Dante doesn't see you, as he looks up to the sky, thinking about how he's gonna nail the demon good for that one. As he's cast over the edge, you slide on over, an arm extended and catching his ankle as he descends. The sudden grab has him out of his daydream and curling up to look at... you!

You were a couple of yards away, how did you get here so fast? He could only watch as you used your other hand to start pulling him up by the leg as you swung him up back to the edge where you were. You almost fell in your self as you groan.

"Next time you take a swan dive, do it at the pool, yeah?", you huff, patting his leg as he got to his feet.

"Only if you're watchin' me, babe", he winked as he reached for Ebony & Ivory.

You could've slapped him, you really could've. Dante only chuckles at the way you frown for a moment before you go back to fighting, rolling your shoulders as you go. It's pretty hot, he thinks. The half-demon's glad he's got someone as strong as you are on his side, something that comforts him really, knowing that you've got his back.

Vergil

Falling doesn't scare him, he's done it before, but it's where he'll end up that tends to make him feel something other than adrenaline when facing his enemies. The first time he descended, it cost him his freedom, the last time he went to hell with his brother. Now it felt like a slight, a mistake made and he doesn't quite like those. The devils he was fighting now on behalf of joining Dante's little business were putting on a fight for once, with one of them even managing to knock him back a good distance. He had misjudged that and felt himself lose his footing on solid ground.

You'd seen him tip over the edge and in an instant you were rushing to his side, not that you were too far. With your devil arm, you dug into the side of the ledge and anchored yourself as you grabbed his arm. He had only stared in awe, shock that quickly subsided as he glowered. He was not one who needed saving, quite the opposite, even as you threw him over the edge to resume the fight.

Such raw strength... in a mortal, none the less. It was... curious. Where did such power come from, he had to wonder after he had dealt with your foes with a few judgement cuts. You managed to pull yourself up, rolling over onto your back with a long sigh.

"Thank you for that, though it was unnecessary", he had commented, looking at your prone state.

"You're welcome, you oughta watch your step next time", you joke as he offers a hand to help you to your feet this time.

"It will not happen again, I assure you", he says it with such a straight face, but you can tell that he's the slightest bit embarrassed.

Nero

You had just finished combing through your share of enemies, flicking your weapon to the side to clear it of blood as you look off into the distance. Nero was holding up well with Red Queen, revving her engine and ripping and tearing into the devils seamlessly. You could often admire how fluid he could be, like a duck bobbing and weaving through water. He looked like he didn't need your help, so you'd sit back and watch. Through the demons that surrounded him, he could feel your eyes on his back.

Nero would be lying if he didn't enjoy it when you were watching him, because in truth he had admired you too. Your skills and finesse were so badass and he hoped that maybe you thought of him like that too instead of how his uncle and father had seen him. Sure it wasn't too serious when he'd been called 'dead weight' but... it stuck with him. He wanted to prove that he could stand on his own two feet without needing their help, or yours for that matter. Ironic given his current circumstance. Nero had taken his eyes off of his opponent at hand to spare you a glance, spotting the fondness in your eyes and feeling a bit of color come to his face.

"Woah!", he'd been shoved, having nearly dropped his sword to steady himself, reaching a hand behind him to push himself back off the ground. Only to find that there was none supporting him.

You jumped in just as quickly as he was about to fall, appearing in front of him and grabbing the front of his shirt just as he was about to fly. You bring him in and step back, as he just looks at you for a second.

"... You do know that I would've been fine right?", he asks instead of saying thanks, a small smirk playing on his face as you stare at him for a second. Air hike... right.

"Would you rather I let you fall?", you're quick to respond as he just scoffs, shaking his head as he resumed where he left off with the devil.

He wasn't expecting you to be there, but he's glad that you care enough to come rushing for him like that. Next time he'll be the one saving you.

[misojunnie]

can i request this?

https://www.tumblr.com/misojunnie/728375539407159296/i-find-the-vampire-and-werewolf-rivalry-dynamic

but instead of vampires it's witch/warlock/wizard please?

☆ &team as your werewolf bf! w/ a witch (or warlock) partner :)

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ʚϊɞ.

byun eui joo - ej

is very unserious about you being a witch

when you finally confessed his first question was to ask if you could cast a spell on him that gave him super strength

he's so easy going n sweet :( got very quickly acclimated to the magical door slamming, floating pots and pans, etc

"honey, next time you summon a goetic demon, can you please make sure he's gone by dinnertime?"

murata fuma - fuma

quite surprised you were a witch; probably made an awful pun to cover up his shock

will easily lay his life down to protect you from the people who are prejudiced against you, even if its a fellow werewolf

you love your man <3 someone tried to jump him once and you cursed them for all of eternity

"can you do the dishes tonight? and please don't bring them to life on accident again."

koga yudai- k

tried to scare you away with garlic when he found out, and you had to tell him that only works on vampires

despite his initial shock, he quickly got accustomed to your habits

read the entire wikipedia page on witches so he'd be "well informed of all your needs"

makes an awful witch themed pun at least once a week, ex: "witch, please."

wang yixiang- nicholas

found out you were a witch like a week before you broke the news

^ secretly peeked into your bedroom one time and saw you curling your hair with a levitating curling iron, but decided to say nothing until you were ready

hates it when you put spells on him, eg; "I'm leaving, and if you even try to immobilize me, y/n, I swear to god-"

has asked you to curse ta-ki more than once or twice

nakakita yuma - yuma

he thinks it's hot

asks you to put spells on him so he can walk on the ceiling, which you continually tell him don't exist

tried to prank you once and you used magic to throw him through six layers of drywall on instinct

safe to say he hasn't tried to prank you since

asakura jo - jo

didn't even believe you at first, his first reply was "oh, really? then where's your big hat?"

it took you a week to convince him that it wasn't a prank, and he only believed you after you sent him through space and time

always takes care of you after you exhaust yourself from casting too many spells

found out you were ironically terrified of the conjuring and still makes fun of you for it

shigeta harua - harua

was shocked at first, but quickly came around when he realized how wonderful your magic could be

always wants to hear witch lore and all the stories about your covens and history

was suspicious you put a love spell on him but eventually realized that he just loves you a lot. damn.

hates when you make him clean because he knows you could easily do it with magic

ta-ki

poor baby went into actual shock when you told him you were a witch, but he had no complaints

genuinely had no idea that witches existed

"wait, so do you have warts and stuff? no judgement."

is still amazed every time you do a spell, even years later

hirota riki - maki

his only knowledge of witches comes from playing minecraft

"so wait, you don't live in a hut? not even a swamp?"

when he gets too hyper you cast a spell on him that glues him to the wall or something (comes in handy when you need to study)

asks you to summon demons just to do his homework

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ʚϊɞ.

a/n: sorry for this super late reply! I have very little knowledge of witches so I hope I did this request justice ;-; this was sooo fun

[copias-girl]

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter I

A/N: Cardi is 100% a virgin in this 😌🖤 Get ready for some slow burn and merciless teasing 😈

Song recommendation for this series!

Chapter II

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

“He looks just like a rat!” Sister Mable snickered, causing the other sisters of sin to burst out laughing.

“And he scurries around like one too!” Sister Ava added.

“You know, I heard he keeps rats. As, like, pets.” Sister Lilith whispered with a shudder, nearly horrified by the mere thought.

“Ugh. He’s such a weirdo, I can already tell. I hope he doesn’t try to strike up a conversation with me.” Sister Emily scoffed.

“Have you even seen how painfully shy he is? I don’t think he would even know how!” Sister Lilith retorted, causing the group to burst out laughing.

You heard their conversation as you came strolling by, carrying some Latin translations that Secondo had requested. You also had a pack of little Mix Max cakes that you were going to bring to Primo, Secondo, and Terzo. And maybe even one for Nihil too, as you knew how much he liked sweets.

The truth was, you were everyone’s darling. The Papas absolutely loved you. Primo allowed you the privilege of helping him tend to his precious garden, Secondo’s hard scowl softened considerably when he looked at you, and Terzo just couldn’t stop himself from constantly flirting with you, much to the annoyance of many of the other sisters of sin. Even the ghouls loved you; Terzo often having to shout at them to prevent you from getting dogpiled. It was no secret that everyone regarded you as the prettiest and most lovely sister in the whole ministry.

“Who are you talking about?” You enquired curiously, slowing your pace.

“Oh, hi Sister!” Sister Ava greeted you.

“We were just talking about that new Cardinal. He’s so strange! Have you seen him?” Sister Mable chuckled, clearly wanting you to engage in their judgemental banter.

“No, not yet, didn’t he just arrive yesterday? I’ve been busy running errands for the Papas.” You replied, gesturing to the things in your arms.

“Are those cakes part of your errands?” Sister Lilith asked with a playful little smirk.

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, just a little something for our dear Papas. They always seem to enjoy it when I bring them treats.” You responded cheerfully.

“I think what they enjoy is you always visiting them in their offices.” Sister Ava chuckled, and you rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a grin.

“Well,” You started to leave, “I better get these Latin translations to Secondo, you know how he doesn’t like to wait a long ti-”

And that’s when you saw him. Him.

He was an odd man, currently stuttering out a heavy-accented apology for bumping into someone, the stack of papers he was carrying now scattered onto the floor, some sheets of paper still in midair as they floated down.

“Ah, shit..” He mumbled to himself with that cute little accent, kneeling down and scrambling to gather his things. The guy he had bumped into ditched, quickly turning a corner and walking out of sight, leaving the Cardinal to pick up the mess by himself.

The group of sisters erupted into laughter, not even caring that the Cardinal could hear.

“Couldn’t they have gotten anyone better? Seems like they’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel with this choice.” Sister Emily snorted a little too loud, right within earshot of the Cardinal.

Casting an annoyed glance at Emily, you made your way over to the man, much to the surprise of the group of sisters.

You knelt down beside him, beginning to gather some papers together, but the poor Cardinal didn’t even notice you. He looked utterly humiliated, brows furrowed and biting his lip as he inwardly scolded himself for being so clumsy and making a bad first impression.

That’s when you both reached for the same piece of paper, his gloved hand meeting yours. Immediately, his head shot up, eyes widening when he saw you. Oh, Satanas, you. You were a vision, a dream- no, better than a dream. His stupid mind couldn’t dream up something as beautiful as you if he tried his hardest.

With lips parted and cheeks flushed red, the Cardinal stammered out a quiet, “H-hello… Eh.. How do you do?”

You couldn’t help but smile. He was so pitiful and oddly cute, you felt like giving him a hug. Maybe you should? Maybe you would, you know, as a gesture to welcome him to the ministry.

“I’m doing quite good, thank you, Cardinal…?” You trailed off. You had heard his name in anticipation of his arrival, but it was escaping you at the moment.

“Eh? Oh! Copia. I am Cardinal Copia.” He replied, straightening his biretta. “And.. and you are?”

You gave him your name, still with that sweet smile on your face as you studied him. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Il piacere è mio.” Copia murmured.

You decided against the hug. You wouldn’t want to give the poor man a heart attack, now would you? Instead, you opted to place your other hand on top of his, which was still frozen in place touching yours as you had both reached for the same paper. You noticed how he flinched at that, his blush deepening as his wide mismatched eyes gazed into yours.

“Welcome to the abbey, Cardinal Copia.” You said softly. Your voice was like music to his ears.

“Grazie, you too- Ehh, well, I mean-” Copia stammered nervously. Fuck, he could kick himself; he was really blowing this. You must have thought he was a complete idiot, how embarrassing…

“I know what you mean, don’t worry.” You giggled, slightly putting the poor Cardinal’s nerves at ease. “Here, let me help you pick all this up.” You said, beginning to gather the scattered pages once more.

Copia nodded, doing the same, but it didn’t escape you how he stole little glances at you from time to time. He couldn’t help it, you were just so captivating. He’d never seen someone like you before. You simply glowed, you were captivating with your sweet voice, that gorgeous smile, those glimmering eyes, the front locks of your lush hair sticking out of your habit. You were so glamorous, and everything about you was just perfect.

And you couldn’t help but steal your own glances at Copia, catching him fixating his gaze on your glossy lips. A small smirk found its way onto your face, wondering if he was imagining kissing you, or if he was too shy for even thinking about that.

Finally standing up and securing everything in his arms, you opened the pack of cakes and placed one on top of his stack of papers.

“Eh? What’s that for?” The Cardinal asked.

“Just a little treat for you!” You shrugged with a smile.

“Grazie, I.. I love Mix Max..” He let out a sheepish chuckle, and you made a mental note of that so you would remember to stop by his office all the time and bring him some.

“You know, if you ever need any help in your office, or if you need anything brought to you, I’d be more than happy to.” You offered, mindlessly toying with the hem of your dress.

“Si… Perhaps I will take you up on that, Sorella.” Copia nodded. “Grazie così tanto per questo.” He pointed with his nose to the stack of papers in his arms.

“Di niente, Cardinale.” You smiled, holding in a giggle as you watched him awkwardly nod and scurry away, his black cassock swaying with every step.

The group of sisters were absolutely astonished, all staring with wide eyes and jaws dropped. They didn’t exactly know what had just transpired, all looking amongst themselves once you sauntered down the hall and out of sight.

“Did you see the way he was looking at her?!” Mable scoffed, breaking the silence.

“Well can you blame him? She’s so gorgeous.” Ava pointed out, to which Emily rolled her eyes. Emily was always was jealous of you.

“And she’s so kind too! Just watch that weirdo take it the wrong way, though. He’ll probably think she likes him!” Lilith chimed in, earning sounds of agreement and outrage from the other girls.

•𖤐•

The corners of your lips were quirked upwards into a little smirk, eyes shining and hips swaying as you made your way towards Secondo’s office, a little pep in your step. This new Cardinal seemed… fun. And you decided, then, that you wanted him. You really wanted him, with his cute little moustache and his pointy nose and his slightly greying hair. But you also decided that you’d be taking the scenic route; the long way around to get to your final destination which was his bedroom. Poor thing, he didn’t even know what he was in for.

And as you strolled down the halls of the ministry, deep in thought, you supposed that the sisters were right; Copia did kind of look like a rat.

But what a coincidence. You loved rats.

𖤐to be continued𖤐

Taglist: @sucharide @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart @mister-girl @faeeeeh @rubyserpentine

[spacexseven]

I want a pathetic fyodor, one who just, gets down on his knees and gives his prayers. A stinky rat

i think we all want to see fyodor on his knees :^ part of the god reader au ^^ reader is gn but referred to as 'lord' here...cos idk what else to use

cw: yandere themes

"everything is going according to plan," he whispers, head hung low. for someone who claimed he was of weak constitution, fyodor was surprisingly sturdy on his knees, not trembling for a moment despite being here for almost an hour now in silence.

"there were a few...minor infractions, but the agency has been successfully framed and the sky casino is doing better than expected," your breath stilled for a moment, "for all this, i only have you to thank for that, my lord. thank you for gracing this humble servant of yours with your blessing."

despite how he has you seated on a literal throne, you can't help but wonder if this was merely an illusion of control that he was casting over you. but even for fyodor, wasn't this too long of a play? you had been worshiped before, a long time ago, but this level of reverence, this intense desire he had...a glimpse of amethyst peers up at you from below dark eyelashes, an unnerving light gleaming from the depths. and there it was again—unmistakable, unyielding devotion. it was so starved that it simultaneously frightened and mesmerized you. you almost didn't want him to look away. you had only locked eyes for mere moments before he lowered his quickly, almost like he was frightened.

the silence stretches. was he waiting for a response? since the day he called you here, placed you upon your magnificent throne, and bowed at your feet with a wretched cry of vengeance, you had never uttered a word to him. it wouldn't change even now.

"i do not expect you to be satisfied," he exhales after a long, painfully silent minute, "there is still much to be done. but i swear i will carry out your will no matter what it takes."

the sight was almost pitiful, him on his knees and head lowered pathetically. you considered, briefly, bestowing upon him some form of acknowledgment. something for him to look up at, eyes wide for a moment, only for his charming, characteristic smile to appear, like the first time you met him. against your better judgement, perhaps, you move your hand to cup his cheek, forcing him to look up. he seemingly melts with a low sigh, like you had relieved him of a decade of torment. you wondered if your touch was the salvation he often spoke of. emboldened by your initiation, fyodor moves to rest his head on your lap.

"thank you," a strange noise escapes him, and he shudders. it's not out of fear, you can tell, but something more... pleasurable, "i am not worthy..."

he moves again until his dry lips graze the palm of your hand, and suddenly, it all feels too real—his soft hair brushing your wrists, his warm breath contrasting the cold room—"i can only pray that you continue to bless me with your unwavering guidance, and let me carry out your divine will." his last words echo in the room, long after he's gone, "i will not rest until you stand upon the corpses of those who scorned you."

[i-draws-dinosaurs]

can we get a fact check for tier zoo's utahraptor vs smilodon video?

The 3D models by Kuzim and the animation by Wobbly Works are absolutely gorgeous and I wish they were being used for pretty much anything else other than "which of these prehistoric animals would win in a fight".

Look. I love hypotheticals. Exploring weird hypothetical questions about prehistoric life can be very fun and can act as a good vehicle to discuss actual facts about them. But the format of a pitched battle between two animals is such a tired cliche that I don't think contributes any value and in fact detracts from the educational content by casting these animals as combatants for one to claim superiority of the other in a violent showdown.

Even when the animation is pretty and naturalistic and clearly done with a great deal of care, I can't help but look at this and think,,, what's the point? What are we proving here?

I'm not a big fan of Tierzoo in general, the "what if nature was video games" bit gets old pretty quickly and most of his ranking seems to just be "which organism is more powerful and better at killing stuff or defending itself?"

I feel like ranking animals by how strong or "well-adapted" they are fundamentally misses the point? All life is adapted to suit its environment. Not only does a species' "success" depend on a whole bunch of factors outside combat ability, but there's still no difference in value as a living being between "unsuccessful" and "successful" species no matter what metric you want to use?

Maybe I'm digging too deep into this and I know Tierzoo's videos aren't meant to be taken as a serious value judgement on each animal he features, but I just think it's a fundamentally flawed and unhelpful lens with which to view the natural world.

[foolishlovers]

something good and right and real by foolishlovers (T, 5.1k, 1/5)

Desperate for a break, renowned singer-songwriter Crowley returns to his quiet hometown he swore he'd never set foot in again. He quickly realises Tadfield hasn’t changed much; the streets look exactly like he remembers, the pub still shuts its doors far too early, and the weight of judgement lingers in every gaze cast his way. Crowley’s feelings for Aziraphale, the angelic baker selling pumpkin pastries across the river, don’t seem to have changed one bit either. Oh, fuck.

[artificialpillow]

Meet Eloise!

The time has come - let’s introduce you to my OC!

I will not be writing a regular fic, so it might be a little bit harder to properly get to know her. But! There WILL be one shots, mostly about the most important events in her life and obviously some to describe her relationship with the love interest (😏).

Let’s start!

Eloise’s profile

Basic information:

Name: Eloise Veredi

Age: 17

Birthday: March 26th

Blood Type: A

Love Interest: Yuno Grinberryall

Birthplace: Outskirts of Clover, town of Guerdia

Magic: Glass Magic

Appearance:

Height: 165cm

Eyes: Dark green

Hair: Shoulder-length, wavy blonde hair with curtain bangs. She mostly ties it in a bun as it bothers her during training or work.

Clothing: Eloise values comfort, so her clothing generally allows a wide range of movement. As a commoner she does not own lots of fancy clothes (however she gets some when she starts working with the Magic Knights). Her favourite outfit contains a dark gray high-neck shirt, brown pants and leather knee boots. Her favourite piece of clothing is a green cape, which she received as a gift from her dad. Eloise rarely wears dresses, but with time she grows fond of them and puts them on for special occasions

Special features: With her magic being glass magic, she used to get hurt a lot while training. Currently, on her neck, arms and the right side of her abdomen are noticeable scars caused by her past lack of control over spells. Eloise’s face is partly covered with freckles, her ears are pierced - she wears small, silver earrings.

Personality:

Eloise is an introvert, however she enjoys spending time with people she knows. Due to her being a commoner she is cautious in making acquaintances as she fears being belittled by higher-ups. On the other hand, she appears confident while fulfilling her duties and doing things she’s skilled at. She prefers working on her own and is not a great team player. She may appear as reckless.

Eloise hates conflicts and is incredibly patient; however when the line is crossed, she bursts out with anger and lets all the emotion out. She has no problem with apologizing but would only do it when she actually believes she was wrong. She rarely confronts anyone, rather keeps comments to herself.

Despite not showing it so much, Eloise is emotional and quickly grows fond of people (the hardest part is actually meeting them). She finds it difficult to let go of things important to her and holds grudges when she gets hurt.

She tends to overthink and assume other peoples’ intentions. She is quick in judgement, but when proven otherwise she eventually changes her opinion.

Background:

Eloise is a daughter of Delano and Ann Veredi, known craftsmen. Her parents and her grandfather, Gerald, ran a business based on agricultural tools trading. As a child she would travel with them around Clover to find new clients and sell merchandise. One of the places they visited regularly was the Hage village, where Eloise met Asta and Yuno. She quickly befriended Asta, and played with him a lot. Her relationship with Yuno was not well developed, as the boy was too shy and guarded; therefore she did not know much about him. After her grandpa’s death, Delano came up with improving their products with magic. At this point regular citizens couldn’t afford to buy them, so the family started visiting the capital and wealthier towns. Eloise lost contact with Asta and Yuno completely. During one of her stays in the capital, she happened to see a Captain scolding an injured Magic Knight. Not so much later she heard an older mage bullying a squadmate for his status. At that moment, Eloise decided not to take part in the entrance exam.

When she was 13, she wanted to focus on her magic and stopped travelling with her parents. She would spend hours in the forest, trying to learn how to control the only spell she knew how to cast - The Glass Daggers. Due to her lack of control, Eloise would often get injured and come home with ripped clothes, and wounds that left visible marks on her body. Through the years she had encountered many strange creatures and step by step learned how to tackle them. At some point she became and expert and would take care of magically influenced animals and plants around the town.

Eloise never had close friends. She got on well with her classmates, but never considered them that important in her life. Her lack of closeness with people her age did not bother her, she knew how to entertain herself on her own and maintained good relationships with older and younger members of her community.

One shots background:

One day, when Eloise was figting magic boars in the forest, she suddenly got shot down. She found out that the Golden Dawns' knoghts arrived to take care of the problem on their own. When told to go home, she showed them her method for dealing with these animals. Mimosa, in awe of the girls knowledge, suggested taking her to the capital and introducing her to the Wizard King. He proposed that Eloise stays in the capital and teaches the Magic Knights her methods. (That's where the one shots start!)

Fun facts:

She has a habit of speaking too loud

She would often talk to herself

Her parents like to call her ”Apple pie”

She gets easily attached to objects

She loves teasing

At some point Eloise finds out, that with her glass magic she can cast a reverse spell and fight with sand

When asked about her scars, she jokes that she fell out of a window

Eloise does not know how to properly fly a broom, as she never really travelled outside of her town

She loves cooking but only knows how to prepare basic meals

She easily gets bored

[black-is-iconic]

Midnight Lovers

Chapter one : Unspoken Desires

A loud thwack echoed through the air and suddenly your surroundings were shifted, now standing in what looked looked like a blue tinted room, although it could hardly be describe as such, in fact it almost looked like you were still inside the forest, only more…beautiful. It was like a room had merged with nature and taken on a blue tint, it had no discernable boundaries just endless forest and beautifully sculpted furniture scattered about. the floor was covered in lush grass, purplish blue light rains down on you from the cloud ceiling roof above casting the entire space into an ethereal glow. It was quiet and peaceful except for the muffled noises of a babbling brook, you hardly had time to take it all in as he swiftly walked over to a bed, placed you down and snuggled up behind you.

The warmth of his chest bleeding through his shirt was heavenly, his hands respectfully stayed glued to your stomach no unwanted advances were made against you, it was just…soothing, so safe. It was hard to tell who was comforting who, but eventually you fell asleep peacefully nestled comfortably in his arms with the sound of the stream drifting in the background.

And so would start your strange new life with the four clone brothers, with Aizetsu swiftly becoming your favorite with how kind, gentle and attentive he was to you. You quickly grew to love him more than the other clones who were chaotic and unpredictable, unlike Karaku who had wandering hands and a lustful eye and Urogi who was Impulsive, boisterous and rough Aizetsu was always calm, polite and caring.

Every night, (you quickly grew accustomed to their nocturnal behaviors) there was a warm meal prepared for you, a new kimono and he'd even offer to help you style your kinky [H/L] hair or massage any stress or aches from your body with his own gentle touch. For a demon he's quite….compassionate to you at least, you'd seen him snap at his brothers every now and then and it was evident he wasn't above violence…just never towards you.

Today however, you got stuck with Sekido. Out of the four clone brothers he was the most….mysterious, he never once tried to interact with you, and only really came out of his room when they had a mission or to yell at his brothers. But you really didn't see too much of him, and you weren't sure whether it was because he didn't like interacting with humans other than well…..eating them or some other reason but it was clear as day that he didn't really like you or want to be around you.

Curiosity bubbled up within you as he sat beside you in silence while burying his face in a book, you were more than aware he felt your burning stares but he didn't make any motion to acknowledge you, instead he continued to stare resolutely at the page. So against your better judgement, your body moving before your mind can fully comprehend what you're doing, you reach out and place your hand gently upon his shoulder feeling the hardened muscles beneath your fingertips tense as his beautiful scarlet pools of molten fire bore into your soul with such intensity it made your heart thump wildly in your chest. You wanted to apologize, to squirm away but the intensity of his gaze pinned you in place. After what seemed hours, the heat of his fiery gaze finally subsided leaving the tingling sensation of cold sweat on your skin to remain. "What do you want human?" His voice deep, rough, and gravelly sounding. You swallowed thickly at the question, and cleared your throat "I….um……sorry" you muttered averting your gaze "I…wanted…..uh..to know….what book you're reading" as those string of words fell from your lips he seemed to stiffen ever so slightly, you took note of it as he turned to look at you, a long moment passed before he replied, "plants" allowing silence to once again reign as there was no further explanation.

He gave a slight nod and licking his thumb flicking a page, "plants?" You echoed his words and he scowled quietly as he continued staring blankly into the book. His brows creased together, and his eyes narrowed to slits he unconsciously fidgeted whenever there was noise from outside, meaning you. Taking a deep breath your palm danced along your forearm as the air thickened in awkwardness, with a long exhale you tried to speak but he beat you it.

"Aizetsu has just just returned, you can leave now" he stated in a bored tone without sparing you a glance. His voice sounded tired and defeated as if something had deeply upset him, your body flinched at the tone of his voice. Your mouth opened slightly at his abrupt response but before you could form a reply, he snapped his book shut startling you slightly as he swiftly rose to his feet. Kimono flowing gracefully around his lithe figure as he stalked passed you to disappear out of sight, you sheepishly followed despite every aspect of your body screaming 'no! Don't follow him! He's dangerous!' But you couldn't deny your curiosity, after all, he was one of your…. masters? Owners? It wasn't exactly clear yet what you were to them yet, but that's besides the point. You wanted to know more about him, and the fact that he went out of his way to avoid you at all cost only fed your insatiable curiousty.

So you trailed behind him in the bending him slowly trying carefully to place your foot to conceal any sound, but he turned to you with a arched brow and you ran smack dab into his muscled chest. Causing you to stumble back a bit his hands caught you by the waist and steadied you, "what do you want go away, I already told you Aizetsu has returned if you're looking for the other two idiots. They got stuck in the sunrise so they had to seek shelter in a cave," he mumbled turning around but your fingers grasped the sleeve of his kimono halting his actions.

"I-I"the words died on your tongue as he stared straight ahead avoiding any form of eye contact with you. Your heart sank in disappointment and sadness, why is he so difficult to talk to?! "I want to spend time with you and get to know you" the words spilled from your lips like water flowing freely, pouring forth in a cascade "I'm sorry I kept asking questions but I'm just really curious about you".

His eyes widened slightly as though surprised with your admission, "W-why would you want to do that?" He asked sounding genuinely confused, doubtful, angry, hesitant, and just a little bit…..hopeful? His expression faltered momentarily revealing the small glimpse of vulnerability and shyness, for a moment you got a glance into the depths of his soul, a rare glimpse which left you breathless.

He was…a lonely man yearning for companionship, for acceptance. This thought alone caused your heart to clench in sympathy, but as quickly it came his true mask slid back over his emotions hiding whatever emotion he had been having, replaced by cold indifference.

He swiftly turned away from you with a deep scowl, grumbling something under his breath "if that's what you wish" he whispered so softly that you barely catch it, as he swiftly strode across the vast room, his footsteps echoing loudly throughout the cavernous room. He walked towards a door, two large doors with gold riming's and crimson wood carved into intricate designs, he pushed one open revealing a dark room. His room was very traditional with Japanese style décor, red silk carpets decorating the floor, an intricate cherry blossom canopy hanging from the ceiling concealing a large cozy bed with it's transparent red curtains framing it. A fireplace adorned the wall near the bed, an incense holder rested atop it sending out a sweet fragrant scent that instantly calmed your nerves as it filled the room with a pleasant aroma, cherry mahogany wood furniture decorated the space giving off an atmosphere of sophistication and tranquility. He walked over to the chair seated in front of the fireplace taking a seat and kicking off his sandals, your feet stayed firmly planted outside the room as you watched him from afar. The fire cast a warm glow around the room and on him. and he leaned over the cushy chair arching a brow, "well are you waiting for an invitation?" He growled but there was a certain underlying note of tenderness, you excitedly scampered over to him planting yourself by his feet resting against the chair. A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you watched his hands twitch along his thighs, every now and then moving in your direction only to change direction at the last moment to preform some small gesture.

After the third movement of his hand, you kinda caught into what he wanted or at least you thought you did. Slowly your hand drifted towards his slowly brushing against his hand until you grasped it, his hand flinched at first but after a few seconds he relaxed.

The warmth radiating between your hands, comforting as you rested your head on his leg, but to your surprise his other hand snaked over your waist gingerly pulling you and situating you on his lap. He never once made eye contact with you but his muscular arm rested loosely around your waist as he buried himself in a book.

It might've been the light of the fire but you swear you could see the smallest of blushes adorn his cheek, "whatcha reading" you murmured quietly and his eyes dropped down to your and once again you were trapped staring into those infinite pools of ruby flame, causing the butterflies residing in your stomach to flutter around wildly making you feel dizzy and light headed, his hand twitched slightly but stayed firm around your waist, with a light sigh he lowered the book in front of you.

Pulling you flush against his back and holding the book open so you could read along if you chose, you happily snuggled back into his warmth and he rested his head atop of yours….this is nice….