#libra's febuwhump 2023

[librathefangirl]

Marks of a Brother

ao3 (1k+; One-Shot)

When Zeldris was just a little baby, there was a gomicl dragon attacking the palace. Meliodas had barely started his official training with Chandler, he was in no position to do anything – but he knew where his father's priorities were. His baby brother was the only pure thing left in this wretched place. Someone had to keep him safe. Febuwhump Day 5: “That’s gonna scar”.

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, The Demon King's A+ Parenting.

Finally found the motivation to write this, thank you Febuwhump!

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

Meliodas paced back and forth while his body screamed in protest. He was still unused to the heavy strain of training full-time, feeling like collapsing at the end of every night. Though today had been cut short with Chandler telling him – no, ordering him – to stay put in his room. Truthfully, Meliodas wouldn’t have had a problem with it under any other circumstances. All he really wanted to do was fall face-first onto the bed and sleep for a couple decades.

But there was a gomicl dragon loose in the capital. It was attacking the fucking palace. And Meliodas was well aware of his father’s priorities.

Meliodas stopped moving, glaring at the door. There was no way he was just staying here. His baby brother was still so little – too little. Meliodas had to make sure someone was keeping him safe. Which meant obeying orders wasn’t an option.

It was easier than it normally would have been to leave his room and sneak through the palace hallways. Most times if Meliodas had been confined to his room, nobody would stand guard per se, but someone would notice if he left. Now though everyone was too focused on the gomicl attack. Nobody would bother about one small prince in the midst of disaster. Well, Chandler would, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. That meant Meliodas could easily make his way to the nursery without anyone stopping him.

He knew the way there by heart already. He had spent so much free time just watching Zeldris sleep or talk to him or just be with him without anyone watching or judging his every move. His footsteps echoed as he ran, hearts beating fast. He had no armor – because he didn’t need it yet – and no weapons – because he hadn’t earned them yet – and this was probably the most reckless and stupid thing he could be doing right now – but he didn’t care. Zeldris was still pure, the only good thing left in this place. Meliodas would be damned if he let their father ruin him before he could even walk.

Meliodas stopped outside the door, trying to catch his breath. The room was intact, but deserted. A ruckus of screams and fighting was heard nearby. Meliodas closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds. Identify the sound. Isolate it and omit all others. Focus... There! Two hallways down and one to the left. Damn. The gomicl was close.

Not wasting any time, Meliodas rushed through the door and up to the crib. Zeldris was crying. His small limbs kicking and flailing in all directions. Darkness covered his eyes. He couldn’t really do anything with it yet, but the defensive instinct was still there. His body screaming for protection. The thought ached in all of Meliodas’ hearts. Yet he couldn’t help but sigh in relief as he saw his brother unharmed. He was upset, scared and safe.

“It’s okay, Zel,” Meliodas mumbled. He reached down and stroked his fingers across Zeldris’ cheek. It was wet with tears. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

Zeldris grabbed hold of his finger. His grip tighter than what seemed possible from such a tiny being. He hiccupped loudly but the screaming stopped as he stared up at Meliodas with wide eyes.

“I…” Meliodas trailed off, rubbing at Zeldris’ little hand. He didn’t know what to say as he watched the darkness bleed away from Zeldris’ eyes. Just Meliodas presence seemingly settling some of his distress. Green eyes watched him; green eyes full of trust Meliodas didn’t know what to do with.

Suddenly there was a loud roar. Zeldris cried out in fear when the whole building seemed to shake. Meliodas froze, listening. The gomicl was moving; it was coming. Fast!

Meliodas barely had time to pull Zeldris up into his arms – stumbling slightly under the weight – and throw himself backwards when the window exploded. Meliodas scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall as the gomicl pressed itself into the room, breaking the wall in the process. Meliodas watched as the gomicl approach the crib, sniffing around it. His hearts beat frantically in his ears. He glanced around the room as he pulled Zeldris closer to him. There was nowhere to hide.

“It-it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m-I’m here,” Meliodas stammered, trying to calm Zeldris down. It was no use. He was terrified, and with good reason. Meliodas felt tears burn his own eyes as the gomicl turned around. It was staring right at them now. Even if the dragon had poor eyesight, there was no way it wouldn’t find them now. It could hear them; it could smell them. There was just them and it in the room. There had to be guards close by, right? Someone had been fighting the dragon just moments earlier. They would come. They wouldn’t let the Demon King’s sons die. They couldn’t. Unless the gomicl had already killed them all.

Meliodas closed his eyes, pressing his face against Zeldris’ tuft of black hair, praying.

“I’m here,” he promised one last time. “Big brother is going to protect you.”

He could hear the gomicl approach them. Its long sharp claws rasping across the floor as it walked. He could feel the temperature shift as its warm breath reached them. It ghosted over his skin with a promise of death. A low, growing growl rose from the dragon as it prepared for an attack.

Meliodas didn’t think, he threw himself on the floor. Zeldris was caged beneath his body, surrounded by his limbs on each side. Meliodas formed his wings and wrapped them around them as well, channeling whatever darkness he could in his frightened state. And he prayed and begged and hoped. Please, please, please, let it be enough.

Meliodas blacked out with blood running down his back and his brother held close to his chest.

As he woke, the gomicl dragon was gone. So was the nursery and Zeldris too. Meliodas’ arms felt empty and cold as he lied flat on his stomach on a soft cot. He blinked his eyes open blearily, shifting slightly as he tried to make his eyes focus. He had to find Zeldris.

“It’s so good to see you awake, Prince Meliodas,” a voice said as hands helped his sit up. They stayed on his shoulder as he swayed slightly, seemingly uncertain if they should push him back down.

The clear presence of another immediately shot through Meliodas like a poison. His body tensed, his posture straight, and he glared at the demon in question with a suddenly sharp gaze. Never let them see you waver.

Oh. It was a healer, his mind caught up with the situation. He was in the infirmary being treated. After apparently not being killed by the gomicl. Maybe it hadn’t killed all the guards after all.

“Your back is still badly injured,” the healer told him – as if he couldn’t feel it set on fire with his every breath. “You’re lucky the guards managed to kill the gomicl when they did.”

As opposed to unlucky and dead, he was lucky and stuck in Hell with wounds that just felt like death. It seemed a bit odd though. Sure, their healers were no goddesses, but they knew what they were doing. Wounds of this degree of damage were a rarity. Especially for Meliodas. Not that he usually got this injured, but as the Demon King’s firstborn his health – and thereby fighting capabilities – was a priority. Unlike an infant’s safety, evidentially.

An infant’s safety.

“Zel?” Meliodas tried to ask, suddenly forgetting all about his own injuries. What had happened to Zeldris? Where was his brother? Meliodas cleared his throat painfully when his voice wouldn’t cooperate. Had he been screaming? He couldn’t remember, but his throat felt raw.

“Zeldris?” Meliodas asked again. This time, although it sounded like he had glass shoved down his throat, the word at least was intelligible. The healer tilted their head for a moment, regarding him.

“Your brother is unharmed,” they said. “He’s with his nursemaids and Sir Cusack, getting settled into his new room.”

So his brother was with the people who had abandoned him in the first place. At least Cusack was there too. The demon seemed to be the only one other than Meliodas who genuinely cared for Zeldris well-being. Well, as much Chandler would care for Meliodas’: absolutely but with certain conditions. It seemed no matter how much his master cared for him, Meliodas knew the loyalty to his father would always be greater.

Also, how long had Meliodas been out? Zeldris was already getting a new room? Was that because it was deemed a priority or because it had just been that long since the attack? Meliodas itched to find his brother, to see with his own eyes that he was safe.

“Can I leave?”

The healer hesitated. They looked conflicted as they shifted from foot to foot for a moment. Then they sighed subtly and nodded their head.

“Of course, my lord,” they said, helping Meliodas stand up from the cot. “Sir Chandler wanted me to tell you that you are to rest in your room, there will be no training today.”

Meliodas was secretly relieved. Getting to his room would be hard enough. There was no way he would ever be able to train today, especially with Chandler’s standards. But that also meant he wouldn’t be able to see Zeldris today either. Even if he could make it to his new room, he doubted he could get away with disobeying two orders in one… however long it had been.

“That’s gonna scar,” the healer added before he could leave.

Yeah, Meliodas had figured that one out by now too. The healers did know what they were doing. If his injuries were still this bad, it was only because his father wanted them to be.

“Rub some of this on your back every morning and night,” the healer continued, handing Meliodas a small bottle. “It’ll help keep the wounds clean. They should heal up nicely in a week or so.”

The wounds, not the scars. Meliodas would always carry the scars from a gomicl dragon on his back. To his father they’d be a reminder of his foolish actions, of what happened when you rushed in without thinking. To Meliodas they were a promise that he would always protect his baby brother.

[librathefangirl]

We All Bleed for a Reason

ao3 (2k+; One-Shot)

(First Holy War Era) It was easy to distrust the Prince of the Demon Realm. It was a lot harder to distrust a demon who would sacrifice himself for a goddess. / Elizabeth introducing them to the Demon Prince turned traitor was a lot more chaotic than Gloxinia had first anticipated. Febuwhump 2023 Day 15: Self-Sacrifice.

Warnings: Blood and Injury.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

When Elizabeth had first suggested the idea, Gloxinia had been strictly against it. It hadn’t been fear. He was the fairy king, he didn’t have the luxury for fear, nor would he give any demon the satisfaction. No, he hadn’t been scared but he had been apprehensive. After all, this wasn’t just a demon that Elizabeth had claimed as an ally. He was pretty much the demon. The first-born prince and expected successor to the Demon King. Not to mentioned all the rumors and horror stories about him from the battlefield. As leader of the Ten Commandments, Meliodas was as ruthless and skilled as they came, cutting down anyone who stood in his way. Until Elizabeth, it seemed. Gloxinia might not have liked the situation, but Elizabeth did have his trust.

Gloxinia sat crossed legged in the air as they waited, wringing his hands together. Drole glanced at him but didn’t say anything. Gloxinia knew he too had his doubts about this. After all, the idea of a demon in Stigma was absurd. Unthinkable even – but so was the idea of a goddess and a demon together. Now, Gloxinia hadn’t actually seen Elizabeth together with Meliodas, but he’d heard her talk about him, he’d heard the rumors about the two of them that had been circling around for a good while now. He had also heard the rumors about Meliodas turning his back to the demons and leaving the Demon Realm. A demon prince turned traitor, now that was a thought.

When it came down to it, Gloxinia was willing to give Meliodas the benefit of the doubt. For Elizabeth’s sake. To be honest, Gloxinia was curious about him. If nothing else, it’d be an intriguing meeting.

They didn’t have to wait too long before two figures approached them. Elizabeth was recognizable immediately, her pure power unmistakable. The other was almost as apparent. Gloxinia’s hair stood on end at the sinister power that could only belong to someone of Meliodas race and rank. Elizabeth held Meliodas’ hand as they landed in front of them. For a moment their wings entwined around each other like a unification of light and dark. Then Meliodas’ wings disappeared.

“Hey! Sorry we’re late,” Elizabeth greeted with a bright smile. She glanced at Meliodas with a look that clearly meant something Gloxinia couldn’t quite grasp. “We… got caught up in a discussion.”

Meliodas raised an eyebrow at her and shook his head lightly. Gloxinia noticed it wasn’t just the wings that had vanished. The darkness in his eyes and the demon mark on his forehead were both gone now too. Instead, there were eyes as green as Gloxinia’s own forest and a face that, well, frankly didn’t fit the most feared demon around. Huh, definitely intriguing.

“Mmm, still stand by what I said,” Meliodas said, causing Elizabeth to huff. She tugged him even closer by his hand.

“Shush, this is fine, you will be fine,” Elizabeth mumbled quietly – but not quietly enough. Gloxinia shared a look with Drole at that. The same thought crossed both their minds. Apparently, Elizabeth was the only one who had thought this was a good idea.

Gloxinia frowned. It didn’t seem like the – former or not – leader of the Ten Commandments would be apprehensive to meet them. Even if they were the kings of their own races. While Gloxinia would never openly admit it, he was pretty certain Meliodas could take either of them in a one-on-one battle. Depending on how reliable those rumors were. Yet, that was the conclusion he drew from the duo’s conversation. Meliodas hadn’t wanted to meet them anymore than Gloxinia and Drole had initially. Now though, Gloxinia’s interest was definitely piqued. If only he could know for sure what the demon was thinking and feeling, but Gloxinia got nothing. Meliodas was a complete blank in a way Gloxinia had never seen before – which was equal parts intriguing and frustrating.

Elizabeth kept her gaze locked on Meliodas as she waited for his response. He didn’t say anything, just sighed quietly and flashed her a smile. It said I trust you more than it did I agree with you. Elizabeth seemed satisfied at least. She turned her attention back to Gloxinia and Drole, who had quietly observed the interactions between the two.

Elizabeth had barely even opened her mouth when all hell broke loose.

Meliodas was the first one to notice. His eyes turned black and his wings formed behind him before Gloxinia even knew what was going on. Elizabeth and Meliodas tumbled to the ground at the same time the new demon threw his spear. He didn’t last long after that as Gloxinia and Drole both sprung into action. Still, the guilt stabbed through Gloxinia – how could he have missed the demon’s approach? Had he been that focused on Meliodas? Drole let out a sharp curse beside him, snapping Gloxinia back to the situation in the worst way possible.

“Are you two okay?” Drole asked as Gloxinia’s gaze zeroed in on the ground. There was blood in the grass. Bright red and undeniably fresh. There was a lot of it. Shit!

Elizabeth shot up to a sitting position, seemingly unharmed underneath wild locks of silver. Her breath stuttered in her chest as her too wide eyes took in the scene before her.

“Meliodas!” Her panicked cry almost made Gloxinia’s own throat feel raw. He landed on the ground beside her. Like a helpless aid, not even sure how to react himself. This… was not how this was supposed to go. Good or bad; this hadn’t even been an option.

“Hey? Hey, Mel?” Elizabeth breathed and stroked the fallen demon’s cheek. Meliodas was slumped over on his side, the spear sticking out in an angle from both his back and front. Now, Gloxinia definitely wasn’t an expert on demon anatomy, but he couldn’t image that the spear hadn’t punctured something vital. Especially given the blood that pooled around them. How much blood did a demon have? How much could they afford to lose? Gloxinia felt a little startled by his own worry.

“Meliodas?!” Tears fell from Elizabeth’s eyes as her voice cracked. Meliodas groaned. His hand clumsily reached up and grabbed hers. Elizabeth let out a choked gasped, holding onto the hand like a lifeline. Meliodas’ eyes slowly blinked open. Gloxinia let out a long breath of his own. Not dead. He felt more relieved than he probably should for an ally he didn’t trust.

“Yo,” Meliodas slurred and for a moment Gloxinia thought Elizabeth was actually going to hit him.

“Idiot!” she chided, burying her head against his shoulder instead. Meliodas chuckled softly. One hand came up to brush through her hair while the other remained closed around hers. It would have been a sweet sight if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was still skewered on a spear. It certainly changed everything. Not just the imagery, but Gloxinia’s own thoughts too. Ally or not, self-sacrifice was not something he would have attributed to the demon.

Elizabeth helped Meliodas sit up, wincing along with him all the way. She removed her hand from his to instead hover both of hers frantically over his bloods-stained skin. Gloxinia knew she longed to just reach out with her magic and make it all go away, but there was little she could do as long as the spear was still there.

“Why would you do that?” Elizabeth asked. Her voice had gone from panicked and heated, to quiet and soft. Meliodas brushed away the tears from her eyes, even having the audacity to try to smile at her. It failed miserably, looking more like a grimace than anything else, but the intention was clear. Meliodas, impaled through the chest and bleeding all over the ground, was trying to comfort Elizabeth. Either meeting Elizabeth had changed him completely or everything Gloxinia had ever heard about Meliodas was complete and utter bullshit.

“Well, you’ve only got one heart, and I happen to really like it.” Meliodas shrugged casually, immediately gasping at the movement. “Besides, I, ahh, damn… I still got five beating ones.”

“Five?!” Elizabeth’s voice rose in pitch as her eyes widened. Again, not an expert, but Gloxinia was pretty sure Meliodas was supposed to have seven hearts.

“Yeah, ah,” Meliodas smiled sheepishly. “Bad angle.”

“Oh, oh! Okay, uhm, Drole?” Elizabeth steadied Meliodas, wrapping her arms around his and looked up at the giant. “Can you help him?”

“Of course,” Drole responded and knelt behind them. Gloxinia could see the way Meliodas tensed up as Drole grabbed hold of the spear. His shoulders went rigid, and his knuckles turned white around his curled fists. Elizabeth reached down and uncurled one of Meliodas’ hands, tucking her own back inside it. She gave it a reassuring squeeze. Meliodas met her gaze, the unyielding trust in his eyes almost making Gloxinia feel like they were intruding on a private moment.

Gloxinia took place on Meliodas’ other side, bracing against his shoulder to help keep him steady. He noticed Meliodas glancing at him from the corner of his eyes, but Gloxinia kept his own focus on the spear and Drole’s hand. He wasn’t quite ready to deal with – whatever the hell this was. Gloxinia had thought he knew what to expect when they came here today, but that just wasn’t it.

“This is going to hurt,” Drole warned.

“Yup,” Meliodas agreed, closing his eyes tightly. Elizabeth squeezed his hand again. Drole shared a look with Gloxinia and Elizabeth – and then he pulled.

The sound of the spear being extracted was awful. The wet scraping of wood and metal against flesh. The splashing of more blood falling into the grass. The poorly suppressed scream that cut off into what Gloxinia could only image was a vile string of demonic curses.

Drole let the spear drop to the ground with an unpleasant splattering as Meliodas collapsed against Elizabeth. She pulled him even closer, rubbing at his arms and muttering quietly to him. Slowly Meliodas’ breathing evened back out. When he blinked up at her, his eyes were still as green as before. Gloxinia floated back into the air while Elizabeth’s hands instantly hovered over Meliodas’ wounds again. This time there was nothing holding her back. Elizabeth’s magic flowed from her hands into his wounds, willing them back together; willing five beats into seven.

Gloxinia found himself watching Meliodas watching Elizabeth as she worked. It was clear by now that Meliodas and Elizabeth weren’t exactly your average demon and goddess. Their relationship at all was a before unheard thing. There was no basis for this. Yet at the same time, Gloxinia couldn’t help but be in awe at the way Meliodas looked at her. Here he was, a wounded demon, completely at ease under a goddess’ hands, not even paying attention to the magic that touched him. The goddesses might be well-known around Britannia for their miracle healings, but to a demon that was surely the last thing their power was associated with. Despite all that, there was nothing but trust and admiration and – dared Gloxinia say it – love in Meliodas’ gaze.

Intriguing didn’t seem to be quite enough. Watching the two of them was… enchanting.

Elizabeth leaned back slightly when she was done. She watched Meliodas with baited breath, as if she still thought he would crumble to the ground. Meliodas just grinned at her and leaned up to place a kiss to her cheek. Her face flushed with color.

“You are a fool,” Elizabeth muttered, shaking her head.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Meliodas mumbled back, his voice soft as he brushed his fingers across her cheek. “I’m here, Ellie. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gloxinia shared another look with Drole before Drole – bless his soul – cleared his throat and finally reminded the two that they weren’t actually alone. Elizabeth’s cheeks grew even redder, but Meliodas just turned to them with a startingly easy smile playing on his lips.

“Gloxinia, Drole, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Meliodas greeted, despite whatever qualms he’d had before coming here. Then his smile faded as his gaze flickered to the ground. The change was almost as startling. The barely noticeable tenseness to his shoulders, the heaviness in his eyes. The fact that he seemed unable to even meet their gazes. “Under more civilized circumstances that is.”

Meliodas seemed determined to just keep shocking Gloxinia today – proving him wrong even. These were hardly civilized circumstances, not after that attack, but at the same time, Meliodas was right. Things between the four of them could have been so much worse. Meliodas had been the leader of the Ten Commandments. His role was hardly a secret. All of them knew that he very much had had a crucial part in the destructive demonic forces that had cost countless beings their lives. Not just goddesses and humans, fairies and giants too. Of course, every race had some blame in the state of the land, but Gloxinia had never expected Meliodas to acknowledge it all like that.

“Nice to meet you too, Meliodas,” Gloxinia returned, finding himself to actually mean it. Then the serious moment broke as Meliodas gave another crooked, sheepish smile.

“I, uh,” he glanced down at where he and Elizabeth were still seated on the ground, “would have like to not be sitting in a pool of my own blood, but I guess I can’t be picky.”

“Well, it’s quite the impression, if nothing else,” Drole commented, causing Gloxinia to snort. That was a bit of an understatement. Meliodas laughed too, a light and happy sound, as he let Elizabeth pull him up on his feet.

“Well, I do aim to please.”

Yeah, Meliodas was not how Gloxinia had anticipated. At all. Maybe Elizabeth wasn’t so crazy for choosing him after all – No, it definitely was crazy. Insane even. But maybe Gloxinia was just as crazy. Because he had the feeling the four of them would get along just fine.

[librathefangirl]

Of Brothers and Wars

ao3 (2k+; One-Shot)

Ever since the druids’ cave, things had been different. Of course they had; Meliodas was a demon. King knew that now, and Meliodas knew that he knew. Though at the same time, things hadn’t changed. Life went on, somehow. They went on. That is, until the fight with the demons. The problem was, King had seen the end of Meliodas’ fight. Meliodas had let the demon go. On purpose. Febuwhump 2023 Day 17: Silent Tears.

This goes off-canon after the trip to Istar and King's confrontation with Meliodas in the cave. King doesn't leave the group (because Elaine resurrects later or something) and then some non-canon stuff happens.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

Ever since the druids’ cave, things had been different. Of course they had; Meliodas was a demon. King knew that now, and Meliodas knew that he knew. Though at the same time, things hadn’t changed. They’d been forced to leave the cave, Meliodas had gotten the rest of his power back, and neither had brought up the subject again. King had left the confrontation with more questions than answers. It seemed like the only thing that had actually changed was King’s trust in his captain. From there on, he kept a closer eye on Meliodas, which Meliodas clearly was aware of – but life went on, somehow. They went on. That is, until the fight with the demons.

All in all, the fight was rather mild. More confrontation than battle. They’d been split up and hadn’t managed to defeat any of the few Commandments that were actually there – but the Commandments hadn’t been able to defeat any of them either. A tie would have been, in King’s book at least, a win. Except, he hadn’t expected a tie. With the Ten Commandments’ magic still depleted and Meliodas’ restored, he should have been able to win a one-on-one fight. Right?

“Sorry. Guess he slipped away.”

The problem was, King had seen the end of Meliodas’ fight. If one could even call it that. Sure, there was blood enough to hint of a fight, but what he had seen… That wasn’t even a confrontation. It was more like a stand-off. No matter what Meliodas did say, no matter what excuse he made up – King knew. Meliodas had let the demon go. On purpose. There was no slip-away. It was a decision.

Later that night, King found Meliodas alone on the porch to the Boar Hat. He had his arms crossed in front of him, leaning against the railing. His gaze was stuck on the stars high above them. It was a peaceful night, but King felt anything but. Accusing the captain of the Seven Deadly Sins of aiding their enemies? It was a thought that had crossed King’s mind before, but not one he wanted to voice again. Especially if it meant having it proven right this time.

“Can I help you with something, King?” Meliodas suddenly asked without turning around. Now or never then. King braced himself, taking a deep breath.

“What happened back there?”

“What do you mean?” There was no defensiveness to his voice. No anger or sign he had even been offended at the apparent accusation. Meliodas sounded the way he always did. It made King want to take it back, but then again, Meliodas hadn’t just turned demon overnight. He had been deceiving them for years. King’s grip tightened around Chastiefol.

“You know what I mean. What happened with the Commandment?”

“I already told you.” Meliodas glanced back at King. His gaze lingered briefly at Chastiefol’s spear form. Though his expression remained as unreadable as ever. “He slipped away.”

No, he didn’t, King wanted to say. Actually there was a lot of things he wanted to say. Yet he couldn’t bring himself too. Despite confronting Meliodas in the druids’ cave. Despite everything King had done or said since. Despite whatever he was feeling – he couldn’t do it. Confronting Meliodas about this meant proving he couldn’t trust him. If Meliodas let their enemies go just like that, how could they even continue like this. How could they fight beside him? Trust that he would fight for them and not the demons?

It was answers King needed, but not ones he wanted. Because he wanted to trust Meliodas. Even if he couldn’t right now. He wanted him to prove that King was wrong, that he was exactly the same as he had appeared to be when King had first met him. He needed Meliodas to prove that all those years together, all that trust, wasn’t for nothing. King would rather be wrong than realize that his captain was like the rest of the demons.

“Right…” King mumbled, turning Chastiefol back to its pillow form. He hugged it to his chest as he turned towards the door again. He couldn’t do this. Not tonight.

“I know you don’t trust me.” Meliodas’ voice stopped him in his tracks. King turned back around, but Meliodas’ gaze was back in the stars. “And I know there is nothing that I can say to change that. You can’t make someone change the way they feel about demons just because you want to.”

His tone and words sounded old and tired, showing more of himself than he normally would. They reminded King yet again that he didn’t know Meliodas. Not really. Certainly not where he came from. They also made a heavy – and guilty – weight settle in King’s stomach. He didn’t like the way those words made him feel. He had legitimate reasons not to trust Meliodas. It wasn’t just because he was a demon. He was actively keeping things from them. Even letting their enemies get away.

“Speaking from personal experience?” King couldn’t help but ask. Meliodas sighed out into the night.

“More like the experience of a very dear friend. If she saw you wrong someone, it didn’t matter who you were or even what they were. She was really stubborn like that.”

Meliodas’ voice was fond as he spoke, and once again, King was left with questions rather than answers.

“I can’t decide how you feel,” Meliodas repeated and finally turned around to face King. There was a deep sadness replacing the usual mirth in his eyes. “But can I ask you something, as a big brother?”

The question seemed so odd and completely out of the blue that it caught King off guard, but at the same time piqued his interest. What had his relationship with Elaine to do with this? King landed on the floor beside Meliodas, giving him one short nod. He’d hear him out. If anything, maybe he would actually get some answers out of Meliodas this time.

Meliodas didn’t start speaking right away. King watched closely as he turned to the side for a moment, watching the night sky yet again. Briefly, there was almost something wistful about his gaze. Then his face fell. His expression wasn’t blank, but King still couldn’t understand it. Meliodas sighed as he turned back towards King.

“Tell me something, King,” Meliodas  asked, and King knew that however the next moments played out, they would decide the future of his and Meliodas’ relationship. “What would you do if you and Elaine found yourself on opposites sides of this war?”

King couldn’t help it; he recoiled as if struck.

“What?” he squeaked out. Meliodas immediately grimaced.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean, I just- Ah!” Meliodas ran his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, King. I don’t know how else to ask this.”

King crossed his arms over his chest, “What exactly are you asking?”

Meliodas sighed, frowning at the floor. He seemed to be mulling over his words for a long moment before he spoke up again, “If you and Elaine had found yourself on different sides of a war, just like this one. Worse than this one. On different sides of a so-called holy war…”

King didn’t move a muscle, hanging onto Meliodas’ every word. He knew, of course, that Meliodas really was over 3,000 years old. He had to be. It was the only explanation for how he knew the Ten Commandments personally. He had just never expected Meliodas to actually talk about it.

“What would you have done?” Meliodas asked once more. King was grateful when he didn’t stop for an answer because he honestly didn’t know what to say. The Ancient War… He couldn’t even imagine what that had been like, let out image him and Elaine on different sides of it.

“If you knew she would never come with you, and you could never stay with her, not without becoming something you didn’t want to be.” The words seemed to pour out of Meliodas now. He stared intently on a crack in the floorboards, his hair hanging down over his eyes. King felt his own uneasiness grown with Meliodas’ distress. Whatever he had expected, it wasn’t this.

“If he- If she stopped seeing you as her brother. Even if she hated you and wanted you dead. If she tried to kill you-” Meliodas drew a shuddering breath, his voice barely above a whisper as he continued. “Could you do it? Could you actually kill hi-her, for the sake of a war?”

“I-” King shook his head, giving Meliodas the only honest answer he could, “I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Meliodas let out a wet laugh as he looked up at King again. King was startled to see the tears rolling down his cheeks. “It was kind of a big ask, wasn’t it?”

King swallowed thickly. He had gone out here to confront Meliodas about his allegiances, now he was watching Meliodas cry and didn’t know what to do. It seemed that, even when he did get answers, none of these things went as he expected them to.

“But no,” King spoke up again, wanting to give Meliodas something at least. “I can’t image I could ever kill Elaine. No matter what happened.”

“Yeah,” Meliodas mumbled. He brushed away the tears, but it did little to ease the sorrow from his expression. King ran the conversation back through his mind. He took a deep breath. There was still one thing he needed to know for sure.

“So, that demon-”

“Zeldris.”

“Zeldris,” King repeated. “He’s…?”

“My little brother, yeah.” Meliodas sighed, his eyes still shiny with tears as he turned to lean against the railing again. King wondered what it was he saw as he watched the night sky. His gaze seemed to be thousands of miles away – or maybe it was thousands of years?

“For what’s it worth,” King said, standing beside Meliodas. “From where I stood, it looked like he didn’t want to kill you either.”

“I don’t know about that,” Meliodas mumbled. He shrugged once, more casually than anyone should in this situation. “I wouldn’t even blame him if he did.”

King didn’t say anything, but Meliodas seemed to catch his shock, because he gave him a crooked, cheerless smile.

“It’s not a pretty story,” Meliodas explained, glancing at King. “Whatever guilt you may carry, you’re not the worst big brother here. Zel has his reasons to hate me. They all do, I guess.”

All the demons had a reason to hate Meliodas. King let the thought sink in for a moment. It certainly spoke for Meliodas not being in league with the Ten Commandments.

“All of them?” King questioned. It was a bold claim to make. Meliodas regarded him for a moment, tilting his head slightly.

“Well, I can’t speak for every single demon,” he started. “And I know one who probably doesn’t, but he’s a bit of a special case. But, yeah, the demon race holds no love for me.”

He give him that twisted smile again and King shifted slightly where he stood.

“You sound like you regret it?” King pointed out. Meliodas gaze turned sharp for a moment; his voice strained as he spoke.

“My little brother wants me dead.” He then sighed once more, any fight draining from his eyes, and turned back to the sky. “I have a lot of regrets where he’s concerned. But just because I don’t find all demons evil monsters, doesn’t mean I agree with what they’re doing. I’m not with them, if that’s what you still believe.”

King didn’t know what he believed anymore. So, he focused on what he did know. Because Meliodas still looked like a kicked puppy and even though King’s trust had been broken, he hated seeing him like that.

“Well, I don’t know what happened.” Because you still won’t tell me. “And I don’t know your brother, but he didn’t kill you today, at least.”

Meliodas hummed, a small smile ghosting over his lips, “No, he didn’t.”

In the end, King ended up actually getting some answers. He wasn’t sure what to do with them, though. On one hand, Meliodas basically admitted to letting the demon go. But on the other, he hadn’t done it because of some loyalty to the Ten Commandments. He had done it because of family. How could King blame him for that?

Meliodas was, apparently, a 3,000-year-old demon who had done something to give the entire demon race reasons to hate him. King wasn’t sure if he was ready to start trusting him again. Not when there was still so much he didn’t know – but there was still time. Meliodas could still prove King wrong. Could still prove that King could trust him. After all, this whole thing with the demons was far from over.

[librathefangirl]

Bleed This Water

ao3 (2k+; One-Shot)

Meliodas’ hand shot out almost instantly, grabbing hold of Ban’s arm as he bristled at the jeer. He had a point of course. Even if King in that moment wished he would have just let Ban fall for the apparent provocation. He shoved back the mental image of Diane’s upset expression at insults like that and focused back on the matter at hand. The captain was right. The last thing they needed right now was a bunch of dead villagers. Especially ones who were only armed with… water? Febuwhump 2023 Day 12: "Can you hear me?"

Warnings: Fantastic Racism, Blood and Injury, off-screen deaths of unnamed characters.

Another canon-divergent story. No specifics, just the fact that the Sins know about Meliodas being a demon.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

They’d barely left the village before they were stopped by five men. By the looks of them, King would say they came from the village he, Meliodas and Ban had just left. They were blocking the path. Four of them were carrying heavy buckets while the man in the front had his arms crossed over his chest. He sneered at them; his nose raised in the air. These guys clearly had a problem with ego. From where King stood, they didn’t seem to have a lot to back that attitude up with. Meliodas moved forward slightly, standing a few steps in front of the others.

“Do you mind?” Ban asked, his jaw painfully taut. King knew it had to kill him to not just throw them into the forest and continue their way. Honestly, he would let him. Today had been exhausting. He didn’t have the energy to deal with stupid villagers trying to prove something.

“Actually, I do, monster,” the man in the front spit out. Venom laced the word and King was instantly on high alert. It wasn’t like he wasn’t aware of the reputation the Seven Deadly Sins had throughout Britannia; seven sinners, that’s what King Bartra had foreseen. Maybe these guys were after more than just proving themselves – or proving themselves in a different way.

Meliodas’ hand shot out almost instantly, grabbing hold of Ban’s arm as he bristled at the jeer. He had a point of course. Even if King in that moment wished he would have just let Ban fall for the apparent provocation. He shoved back the mental image of Diane’s upset expression at insults like that and focused back on the matter at hand. The captain was right. The last thing they needed right now was a bunch of dead villagers. Especially ones who were only armed with… water? They were armed with water. Killing them would be, well, overkill. Were they seriously confronting three Deadly Sins with nothing but water? They might not have worn their armor right now, but still… Yet, no matter how King looked at it, that was the only answer he found. The clear liquid in the buckets had a sharp and somewhat sweet smell, but it seemed to only be water.

The man to the leader’s left shifted from foot to foot, his gaze darting between the knights before him. He bit his lip, the water almost spilling from his bucket as he changed his hold. King noticed how Meliodas’ gaze flickered to the bucket. In contrast to King’s confusion at their weapon of choice, a realization seemed to pass over Meliodas. For the briefest moment, King watched as his eyes widened and he staggered backwards several steps – then two buckets worth of water hit them.

Ban’s affronted cursing cut off sharply when Meliodas screamed.

King had known Meliodas for years, had been in more fights and battles with him than he cared to count. He had never – not once – heard him scream like that before. The sound sent ice through his veins. Ban seemed equally frozen to the spot, both of them staring at their captain shocked.

The villagers took that moment of distraction to throw another bucket of water. This one was solely aimed at Meliodas. The water hit its mark before either King or Ban could do anything to stop it. Meliodas let out a new set of screams. Somehow, they sounded even worse than the first. Meliodas collapsed to the ground, shaking arms covering his face.

King sent Chastiefol forward right in time to shield Meliodas from the third and final wave of water as Ban pounced on the attackers. King ignored the sound of fighting – slaughter – as he kneeled in front of Meliodas. His hand hovered over his shoulder, unsure whether or not to touch him.

His skin looked like it was steaming. Blood speckled his arms as his skin looked raw and burned. It wasn’t lasting, thank goddess. The injuries were quickly healing, leaving only the blood and the memories. His screams still echoed hauntingly in King’s mind. Meliodas still hadn’t moved from his defensive position though. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving as his whole body seemed trembled. King was almost scared to know what kind of damage the water had done to his face. What the hell had just happened? He’d thought it was just water. Strangely smelling water, but still just- Shit!

It was holy water. The realization did little to ease King’s horror. It all made sense now. The villagers had seen them fight and must have figured they would have to be demons because of it. Something that would merely have been an annoyance – and really? The demons had been sealed away for 3,000 years now – except Meliodas was a demon.

Okay, it wasn’t actually “holy water”. There was no such thing. Meliodas had actually looked quite miffed at the idea that something like prayed-upon water could bring him down when the subject had first come up. Holy water was a stupid notion created by humans who had never even seen a real demon. It was a fairy tale for those scared of the horrors of the shadows, for those who wanted to believe that a prayer could protect them from the demons should they ever return.

No, given the smell, this so-called holy water came from The Pond. King didn’t know its actual name because it lacked a name in the common language – and well, Meliodas obviously didn’t speak the language of the goddesses. Either way, it was a revered pond in the Celestial Realm, the water of which had been blessed by the Supreme Deity herself, and therefore held destructive qualities against anything impure. Or so the legends told. King didn’t know how much of that was actually true. It wasn’t like he’d ever had the chance to ask any goddess about it. According to Meliodas though, the pond was considered so sacred that I hadn’t even been considered as a weapon against the demons. If it had, perhaps the ancient war would have gone down a lot differently – or maybe not. King doubted even a pond like that had enough water to stop an entire race.

King wasn’t entirely sure how exactly these buffoons had gotten their hands on water from the Celestial Realm, but he supposed the old shaman that “heard the voice of the goddesses” maybe wasn’t as crazy as he’d been deemed by the rest of the village. Not that any of it mattered anyway. What mattered was Meliodas – who still wasn’t moving!

“Captain?” King asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He quickly removed it again as Meliodas let out a sharp growl. A warning. Meliodas folded into himself; his arms disappeared from his head and instead dug into the earth before his knees as he tucked his chin against his chest. King still couldn’t see his face. Meliodas’ bangs hang down, hiding him from view. King could see his lips pressed tightly together though. The skin around them covered in small bloodspots. It was probably healed by now. Meliodas’ arms almost looked uninjured at this point. King didn’t know what to do; he should be fine by now! Another growl sounded. It soon tampered off into a whimper. King turned and shouted over his shoulder.

“Dammit, Ban, stop kicking the dead and help me!” his voice cracked at the end, desperation seizing his throat. Meliodas was supposed to be fine by now. At least by the looks, but this was holy water – or whatever you wanted to call it – were the effects graver than they looked? Was there something King was missing?

“What’s happening?” Ban asked urgently as he ran over to them. He was covered in blood that wasn’t his. He kneeled by Meliodas as well, and just like King was stopped in his approach by a low growl. This one louder – less warning and more warning!

“I- I don’t know?”

“Hey, Cap’n,” Ban tried to get his attention but refrained from touching him. “Can you hear me?”

Meliodas didn’t respond. He just folded even more, until he was practically touching the ground with his head. His hands dug even deeper into the earth and – darkness flared around them. It was only for a fraction of a moment, but it was enough for both King and Ban to notice it.

Well, shit.

Ban rose to his feet, basically lifting King by the collar of his clothes. He took a couple quick steps back and then unceremoniously dropped King to the ground again. The fairy wasted no time flying into the air, sending him a sharp glare. Only for a second though, before his attention was back on their captain.

“It’s okay, Cap’n,” Ban said as more darkness flashed from Meliodas hands. Some of it even travelled up his arms. King shifted a little in the air, gaze flickering between Meliodas and Ban. He didn’t know exactly what had gone down in Danafor, but he knew how destructive that dark power could be.

At least, the reality of what was happening filled King’s mind and suddenly it all mad sense. The holy water itself shouldn’t have been enough to incapacitate the captain like this. It hadn’t been enough. The water had startled him, injured him, even caused him to collapse. It would have been a quick recovery, but… It also triggered him. Triggered that underlying demonic defensiveness. And with the pain and the injuries and the situation and- His control had slipped.

He hadn’t growled to keep them away because he was hurt. He was scared that he would hurt them.

Okay, now that changed everything. King threw a quick glance at Ban, bracing himself a little before asking, “Do you need us to leave?”

“Like hell we will!” Ban shouted immediately. Yeah, he had figured he wouldn’t agree. Idiot.

“I wasn’t asking you!” King snapped back almost as quickly.

So, maybe King let himself get baited by Ban as they continued. Maybe Ban let himself be baited back. It wasn’t like the small argument back and forth that broke out was either of their intention. Maybe a part of King had hoped for just that. It felt normal, expected – as safe as anyone could around Ban. It made King forget himself and how suffocating the whole situation was. He didn’t feel tense, he just felt annoyed. For a moment, it was just him and Ban going at it again. Any second now the captain would-

It was as if someone hit the balloon with a nail. He and Ban deflated at the same time. The guilt seeming unanimous between them. When King turned back to look at Meliodas with flushing cheeks and a hammering heart, he could swear the captain’s mouth had twitched. Just the slightest bit for the tiniest moment.

"You want us to leave?” There was no way Ban would actually do that, but the fact that he was even asking was telling. Meliodas shook his head. A small, but oh so noticeable motion. King felt the air rush through him. They both stood still, watching him for a bit longer.

When his fingers uncurled from the ground, they approached him again.

“Can you hear me, Cap’n?” Ban asked again, as he crouched beside him. Another motion, this time a nod, and King let himself really feel the relief. “Good.”

Ban punctuated the mutter with wrapping an arm around Meliodas. The captain let out a small yelp as he tumbled backwards, falling against Ban’s chest. Ban kept him there and used his other arm to turn it into a full embrace, propping his chin on the captain’s head. King finally got a good look in his face. By the blood left, he was almost glad he hadn’t seen the initial damage. As it was, King was just happy to meet the green of his eyes once more.

“You okay, Captain?”

Meliodas’ gaze flickered around them; “The villagers?”

King rolled his eyes. He probably should have expected that.

“Dealt with,” Ban muttered darkly behind Meliodas, who actually had the audacity to sigh.

“That-”

“Was self-defense,” King finished. Meliodas raised an eyebrow at him. Okay, yeah – King didn’t care if he’d had a point this time. Those guys got what they had coming.

“They tried to kill you,” Ban pointed out. His tone wasn’t harsh, but Meliodas’ gaze still fell as his smile slipped.

“That wouldn’t have killed me,” Meliodas mumbled, falling quiet for a moment. “We should probably head back now.”

King nodded his head, regarding the captain briefly, “You good to walk?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” Meliodas immediately insisted and jumped to his feet. To his credit, he didn’t waver. King shared a glance with Ban as Meliodas dusted the dirt of his clothes. Between Ban and Chastiefol, they could handle it if that turned out false.

“Home we go then,” Ban hummed.

[librathefangirl]

A Touch of Light

ao3 (1k+ words; One-shot)

A chill she couldn’t shake formed in her gut. Meliodas – the Prince of the Demon Realm, the Leader of the Ten Commandments, the Next Demon King – was frightened by her mere touch. / Elizabeth struggles with what it means to be a goddess befriending a demon. Febuwhump 2023 Day 2: Flinching.

Elizabeth was focused on the flower in front of her when she felt the presence of another. From the corner of her eye, she saw Meliodas softly land a bit away from her. She ignored him for the moment as she let her power travel from flower to flower, not stopping until the flowerbed before her was once more standing tall and colorful with life. Despite the fallen and forgotten state of the rest of Heaven’s Theater, this small spot really brightened up the atmosphere.

“Why do you even bother with that?” Meliodas sighed, sitting down beside her. Elizabeth glanced at him. His eyes were their usual bright green, but there was a tense pull of his brow. His mouth was a thin line as he poked at the red flower at his feet.

It still felt rather new, this whole thing between. This unexpected truce turned hesitant comradeship. Neither of them had been happy at first, finding their sworn enemy at their own secret hiding place. Yet both of them had been too torn down by the war and their parents and everything else to really do anything about it. As it turned out, they had a lot in common. Elizabeth had found over their multiple accidental and not-so-accidental meetups that she didn’t mind the demon as much as she probably should. Meliodas was a lot different here. Nothing like in the rumors and stories, or how she herself had seen on the battlefield. Then again, Elizabeth supposed she was a lot different here too, compared to how she was in the Celestial Realm. It was nice to have someone she could just be herself with. Someone who understood it.

“What do you mean?”

Meliodas raised an eyebrow at her; “We’re sitting in literal ruins, Ellie.”

That was also new. Ellie. She wasn’t sure if it was just a more respectable step away from her infamous nickname, Blood-Stained Ellie. Or something more familiar than her full name. She liked it. Even if she would never admit that to the demon himself. It was a rare occurrence too. Usually, he only let it slip when they forgot themselves in this little sanctuary-away-from-reality of theirs, or when he seemed especially preoccupied with his thoughts.

By now, she felt like she had gotten pretty good at reading his moods. The good days were the easiest to tell. On those Meliodas was all smiles and jokes and she would forget he was supposed to be her enemy. The bad days were harder because they came in so many shades. Some days he would be all tense and cold. If she herself were in the wrong mood, they’d fall back into old habits; sharp jibes and clenched fists, words chosen just because they would hurt. They’d treat each other like enemies again and she would always feel worse when they left. Some days there would be a heaviness to him. An unintelligible sadness to his whole self. A certain desperation for something she wasn’t sure how to give. Some days, he seemed to flicker, and she wouldn’t know which way he’d fall until she’d made the wrong move.

“It doesn’t mean it can be beautiful,” Elizabeth said as she focused back on the flowers. “Just because it has broken from its original mold doesn’t mean there can’t be life left.”

“What the hell is that even supposed to mean?” Meliodas muttered, watching as she wrapped her hand around a particularly small flower. “It seems… pointless.”

Elizabeth just hummed at that. She knew that some days, some things they would never share the same perspective on. Once the flower had grown a bit more, blending in with its strong neighbors, she leaned back. A content smile on her face. As she turned toward Meliodas again, she noticed how a strand of his hair had fallen down, hanging in his face. Elizabeth reached out without thinking.

Meliodas flinched – and for a moment neither of them moved. Elizabeth realized her horrible mistake as Meliodas eyes flashed black. His entire body turned taut with tension. She wasn’t sure he was still breathing.

“I’m so sorry!” Elizabeth blurted out, quickly pulling her hand back. The darkness faded from Meliodas’ eyes, leaving a haunted expression in its place. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t,” Meliodas croaked. His voice was rough but firm, leaving no doubt as to why every demon would listen to his command. If he hadn’t staggered wobblily to his feet, Elizabeth might have listened. The sudden ungracefulness to his usually calculated movements were almost as startling as the flinching had been.

“No, I didn’t think-” Elizabeth tried again, but he cut her off once more.

“I have to go.”

What, no!

“Meliodas-” It was no use. He had already flashed his wings and taken off into the sky before Elizabeth had even pulled herself from the ground. The guilt stabbed through her.

The realization of it all settled like a poison deep withing her mind. Heavy and unnerving. Its dark tendrils spreading out and wrapping around her. A chill she couldn’t shake formed in her gut. Meliodas – the Prince of the Demon Realm, the Leader of the Ten Commandments, the Next Demon King – was frightened by her mere touch.

It made sense when she thought about it. Goddesses and their power were one of the few purely lethal things to a demon. Here she was, a goddess notorious in the Demon Realm for her fighting ability, suddenly reaching towards him. No other goddess had reached out with kindness to him.

It took a while before Elizabeth saw Meliodas again. It wasn’t like they saw each regularly before, but she got the feeling he was avoiding her. She hoped that at least he only stayed away when she was there, rather than avoiding the theater all together. She knew what that place meant to the both of them. She would hate to take that away from him.

Then one day. There he was.

She was sitting by the flowerbed again, trying to stop them from wilting. Suddenly there was a rush of wind and a soft thud behind her. Then Meliodas flopped down on the ground beside her. His hands interlocked behind his head as he closed his eyes. He groaned dramatically.

“Man, you’ve ever gotten chewed out by someone with acidic spit? It’s a real mess let me tell you that. Every damn time.”

Elizabeth stared at him. It felt surreal. She’d spent so many days here, wondering what would happen the next time she saw him, how she was supposed to act after what happened. And here he was, as if nothing had happened at all.

Meliodas opened one eye, frowning up at her; “What’s wrong?”

“I-… What?”

Not her most impressive moment, admittedly. She didn’t know what to say. How would she even explain it to him? She didn’t want to do that. Scared of how he’d react if she brought up the incident. Would he leave again?

She let her gaze fall from his eyes. She couldn’t contain the gasp as she saw it.

“Oh my- What happened to your arm?”

“Huh?” Meliodas glanced down, sounding genuinely confused. As if he wasn’t aware of the horrified burn covering up a good third of his left forearm.

“Why haven’t you healed it?”

Meliodas snorted, “Of course that is your first thought.”

He sat up, giving her a noncommittal shrug.

“You have kept up with the latest war news, right?” There was a bitterness to his words, but not directed at her. They both shared that one.

Oh, right, she thought. She knew exactly what he hinted at. The battle had mostly been a win for the Goddess Clan, which meant it had been a loss for the demons.

“That from the battle?” she asked. The burn didn’t look like it came from an Ark, but a part of her needed to know. A heaviness fell in Meliodas’ eyes. He wrapped his other hand around the burn, wincing slightly at the action.

“It didn’t happen in the battle.”

Elizabeth didn’t ask. Instead, she stared at his arm. Her fingers twitched, moving on their own before she realized what she was doing. She quickly curled her hand against her own chest, remembering what happened the last time she reached out to him.

“I-,” she paused, then shook her head, determination filling her mind. “Can I see it?”

“What?” Meliodas spluttered. He stared at her wide-eyed. Elizabeth didn’t let it discourage her. Of course he’d be wary.

“Please?”

Meliodas hesitated. Then, slowly, he let go of his arm and let her take it. She was careful to be gentle and transparent in her actions as she pulled his injured limb closer to her. She reached out with her other hand too and let it hover over the burn.

Meliodas breath stuttered in his throat. Elizabeth stopped. She met his gaze again. Praying he could she her true intent in her eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she promised. Then before either of them could back out, she let her magic flow. Slowly at first and then more and more intense as she focused on the damage, willing it to mend and heal.

After what could only have been a few moments, but felt like an eternity, she was done. She dropped her hand and somewhat reluctantly let go of his arm.

“That feel okay?”

Meliodas didn’t say anything at first. He stared at the unmarked skin for a long moment. Then he let out a soft chuckle.

“You’re amazing.”

[librathefangirl]

Help Me Brother, for I Am Falling

ao3 (1k+; One-Shot)

(Modern All-Human AU) He shouldn’t do this. Worst Big Brother Award right here. The last thing he wanted to do was risk dragging his baby brother back into this mess. He just didn’t have anywhere else to go – and by some miracle, Zeldris opened the door. “Yo, Zel. Been a while,” Meliodas mumbled, trying to smile as he leaned heavily against the wall. His vision blurred slightly around the edges. Oh, that probably wasn’t good. Zeldris’ eyes narrowed, “What the hell are you- You’re bleeding.” Febuwhump 2023 Day 10 (Alt. 3): Soft Words.

Warnings: Past/Referenced Child Abuse, Blood and Injury.

Also written for the prompt: "Next time, call someone else for help." "Love you too, X!" (by @whump-galaxy)

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

When it came down to it, Meliodas didn’t want to come here. He just didn’t know where else to go.

He couldn’t involve the others. Not with this. This was too close to home and all the things he wanted to keep hidden – he needed to keep them safe from. He couldn’t risk. Even if Merlin still was an option. She did know about his dad and, well, everything. That didn’t mean he wanted her involved though. Besides, as far as he knew she had locked herself in her basement with yet another experiment. He’d probably bleed out before he managed to get her to the door. He wasn’t too keen on chancing it with the hospital either. That was way too much vulnerability for what little trust he was willing to grant Galand.

Which left…Zeldris.

He shouldn’t do this. Worst Big Brother Award right here. The last thing he wanted to do was risk dragging his baby brother back into this mess. He just didn’t have anywhere else to go – and by some miracle, Zeldris opened the door.

“Yo, Zel. Been a while,” Meliodas mumbled, trying to smile as he leaned heavily against the wall. His vision blurred slightly around the edges. Oh, that probably wasn’t good.

Zeldris’ eyes narrowed, “What the hell are you- You’re bleeding.”

“Mm-yeah. Ruined my shoes.”

Zeldris stared at him like he was crazy. His gaze flickered from Meliodas’ face to his bleeding side to his splotched shoes and back up to his face again.

“Why are you here, Meliodas?”

Meliodas tried not to flinch at strictness of his tone and the insistent use of his name and nothing else that Zeldris still clung to years after he had first stopped calling him brother. It was fair. Meliodas didn’t have any right to expect him to treat him as family after all that happened. He wasn’t about to deny his brother his anger. He just hoped he had a little bit of mercy left for him.

“I-… I need your help.”

Zeldris crossed his arms over his chest. His jaw was almost painfully clenched – even to Meliodas’ muddled mind. He glanced down at Meliodas’ side again. How much blood had he lost now? Meliodas wasn’t sure. Thinking was a lot harder than it was supposed to be. His hand was slick with it, that he knew at least. He kept having to reposition it against the wound.

“Why me?” Zeldris eventually asked. Meliodas couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, his gaze fell to Zeldris’ bare feet. He was digging his toes into the carpet. Oh, he was anxious. As a kid, Zeldris would always step back and forth, his feet always fiddling, when he didn’t like the situation. To Meliodas, it had been a sign to reach out and steady him. Now, he didn’t know how to do that.

“I didn’t know where to go,” Meliodas admitted.

“And you thought this was the place?”

Zeldris was right. Here Meliodas was, ruining his baby brother’s life again. Except this time, it was a life he had made for himself. All on his own. Piece by little piece. Meliodas shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here.

“’m sorry,” Meliodas mumbled. When he pushed away from the wall, the entire room spun around him. The floor threatened to jump and slap him. Still Meliodas managed to take a few staggering steps towards the elevator. He didn’t get far though.

“Stop.” Zeldris grabbed hold of his arm. His skin felt warm against Meliodas’ – or was it Meliodas’ that was cold? When Meliodas turned to look at him, Zeldris’ blurry face wasn’t meeting his. He was looking somewhere over his shoulder. “You’re bleeding all over the hallway.”

Oh… He wasn’t wrong.

“You won’t make it to the hospital like this.”

Meliodas shrugged, almost toppling over with the action, “wasn’t goin’ to a ‘ospital.”

“Oh, good. You were just planning on dying in my elevator like an idiot then.”

Meliodas wanted to say something to that. He really did. But it took all his energy to not fall over as Zeldris guided him into his apartment. Black dots danced across his vision.

“Sorry,” he murmured one last time before the darkness took over. The last thing he heard was Zeldris letting out a loud curse.

-X-

Meliodas wasn’t sure how long he had been out for. When he woke up, he was surrounded by warmth. It was such a strange thought; family and warmth didn’t go together. Not in his family. Maybe once, he and Zeldris had shared it – but it had been years since that.

“Come on, Meliodas,” Zeldris’ voice said to his side. It was a quiet whisper, a lot softer than what Meliodas’ was used to from his grumpy baby brother. “Open your eyes, please.”

Meliodas wanted to. Especially at the waver in Zeldris’ voice. He just couldn’t get his body to move. God, everything hurt.

“I-…” Zeldris broke off. Meliodas could feel something brush briefly against his hand. Zeldris drew a shaky breath. “I can’t watch my big brother die.”

Oh…

“Ze-ngh.” Okay, not as eloquent as he aimed for.

Slowly, Meliodas managed to blink his eyes open. Zeldris stared at him like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. His hand was resting right beside Meliodas’ on the bed. Bed? Oh. He was lying in Zeldris’ bed, a soft blanket covering him and his brother sitting on a chair next to him.

“You’re awake.”

Meliodas cleared his throat, trying for a smile, “Don’t sound too disappointed.”

Zeldris bristled at that. As he diverted his gaze, Meliodas took the time to take the situation in. There was a big first aid kit and some supplies covering the bedside table. The blood was gone from Meliodas’ hand. His side was also very clearly not bleeding anymore. When Meliodas touched it, his fingers met smooth bandages.

“Don’t touch that,” Zeldris sighed. “You’re going to rip your stitches.”

“Stitches?” Meliodas echoed.

“Yes. Stitches.” Zeldris turned back to him, meeting his gaze. He looked wrecked. Meliodas had fainted to Zeldris in soft over-sized clothes and hair looking like he just woke up. Now Zeldris looked like he hadn’t slept for days. His hair was a complete mess, sticking up in all the wrong directions, and his eyes were red. Had Zeldris… been crying?

“You stitched me up?”

“What, you thought I’d just let you bleed out?” Zeldris looked away again. Meliodas swallowed around the emotions welling up in his throat.

“No, I just…”

“Whatever,” Zeldris mumbled, shoulders tense. “I don’t have time to deal with your dead body.”

But he did have time to sit by Meliodas beside for who knew how long.

“Thanks, Zel.”

Silence fell over them as Zeldris kept staring at the wall. Once again, Meliodas felt helpless at his brother’s pain. Moments passed before Zeldris spoke up again.

“I thought you were done with him. I mean, you left and… and-”

Zeldris trailed off and Meliodas felt his heart break. If he could do it all over, he’d do it all so different. At least where his baby brother was concerned. How would things have turned out – how would they have turned out if he just…

“Why would you go back now?”

“I haven’t!” Meliodas cried out. Was that really what Zeldris thought of him?

“So, you just get stabbed for fun?”

“No, I…” Meliodas sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t. I didn’t want to do this, but… He threatened my friends, Zel! I just… How could I drag them into that?”

Zeldris didn’t say anything, but Meliodas knew that, at the very least, Zeldris understood that. He too had to have people he wanted keep safe. Someone he wanted to not let their father ruin.

“That’s why I made a deal with Galand.”

“You think that’s wise?”

“No, of course not, but I had no choice,” Meliodas sighed again. “Galand is a man of his word. I did this, to stay out of it. I have no intention of ever going back to him.”

Zeldris nodded and Meliodas leaned back against the pillows, feeling the energy drain. He was exhausted. Zeldris somehow looked worse. Meliodas reached out, brushing a few fingers over Zeldris hand.

“I, uh, I need to get to work.” Zeldris cleared his throat, standing up. “You can stay here- Actually, you need to stay here. I’m not stitching you up again. You can borrow some clothes from the closet if you want and, well, there’s some leftovers in the fridge. So, you know…”

“Thanks…”

Zeldris walked to the bedroom door. With a hand on the doorknob, he paused, “Hey, Meliodas.”

“Yeah?”

“Next time, call someone else for help.”

A smile pulled at Meliodas’ lips.

“Love you too, Zel!”

[librathefangirl]

With the Forest as My Witness, I'll Silence All My Screams

ao3 (2k+; One-Shot)

(First Holy War Era) It wasn’t like Gloxinia didn’t know how the goddess clan felt about demons. None of them were subtle about it. He knew they still didn’t trust Meliodas. He just never thought they’d try something like this. Febuwhump 2023 Day 9: Voice Loss.

Warnings: Fantastic Racism, Attempted Murder, Blood and Injury, Blood and Gore, Burning flesh.

Oh, the struggles I had with this fic! And it just kept growing. I honestly thought it'd be less than 1k when I started it.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

Gloxinia and Drole had gone out to find Meliodas. Normally Gloxinia wouldn’t be that worried about the demon. It wasn’t like Meliodas couldn’t take care of himself. He was probably one of the most capable people in Stigma – and Gloxinia hadn’t even really seen him go all out. He’d heard the rumors though, heard the horror stories about Meliodas’ feats as the leader of the Ten Commandments. He held power and skill even the goddesses feared. So, no, normally neither Gloxinia nor Drole would be worried about Meliodas being somewhere alone.

Though it was rare these days, to not see Elizabeth and Meliodas more or less connected at the hips. At least for this long. Where one was, the other was almost definitely close by. Then again, almost instantly after the four of them had returned, after a mission off-base, Elizabeth had been called away by Nerobasta. Gloxinia hadn’t seen Meliodas around for a good while now either. Whether it was cause for worry or not, Gloxinia couldn’t shake the bad feeling. One Drole seemingly had shared, because he had been the first to suggested tracking Meliodas down.

The feeling only got worse the further they went. Gloxinia couldn’t even explain why he had it. He had no real basis for it, but it still felt like something was wrong. Like something worse was about to happen. The out-of-place power he could feel in the forest did nothing to ease the disturbing feeling. Even added to it as Gloxinia could pick out Meliodas presence along with it. His was strong as usual, of course, yet at the same time… It almost seemed diminished against the other. That wasn’t right. Gloxinia shared a quick glance with Drole just before they pushed past the last trees and-

It wasn’t like Gloxinia didn’t know how the goddess clan felt about demons. None of them were subtle about it. He knew they still didn’t trust Meliodas. He just never thought they’d try something like this. Especially so close to the base. Inside the Fairy King’s Forest. The thought almost made him feel sick - though nothing compared to the scene before them.

They’d found Meliodas. That was the one and only good thing Gloxinia could take away from this. He was there – but not safe. He was alive – but not well. He was being attacked by a goddess.

She had Meliodas pinned against a tree; one had wrapped tightly around his throat. The ark light emitting from it was searing and charring, filling the air with the sickening smell of burning flesh. It was enough to make Gloxinia nauseous. The sight only worsening the feeling. The skin underneath her hand was turning a bubbling black, blood seeping out between her fingers. Meliodas face was twisted in pain. Sweat beaded his forehead as unshed tears glistened in his eyes. His hands trembled where they were wrapped around the goddess’ wrists. Despite his wobbling arms, the goddess struggled against his force. Still though, her grip remained firm. Her fingers digging into his throat, drawing out even more blood. Meliodas let out choked, gurgling sound. A small trail of red trailing down his chin. His fingers weakened their hold around her.

Why isn’t he fighting back? Gloxinia wouldn’t say he was someone easily shaken, but this… He didn’t even know how to process what he was seeing. He felt frozen in place, but that though kept repeating. Why isn’t he fighting back?!

She was a decent fighter. A great addition to Stigma’s forces; but she held no authority, no special power. In the face of the eldest son of the Demon King, the once leader of the demonic army and alleged future ruler of the Demon Realm? She shouldn’t have been able to get the upper hand in the first place. Let alone inflict an injury of that extent. Meliodas was pushing her back enough to keep her other hand away from him, but he wasn’t fighting back. There was no sign of darkness. No demonic powers; his eyes as green as the forest around them.

“What the hell is going on?” Drole’s loud voice cut through the scene, just as it seemed to have cut through his typical calmness. Gloxinia was grateful though, for him doing what he couldn’t.

The goddess jumped back, startled, and the light disappeared from her hand. Her eyes widened as she turned their way. Had she really not noticed them – noticed Drole – approaching? Powerful as he was, stealth was not a common skill amongst giants, especially one of Drole’s size. Her gaze flickered towards Meliodas, who had crumpled to the ground the second she let go. Her panic was almost overwhelming.

Gloxinia’s hands clenched into fists. Meliodas still lying at her feet was the only thing keeping him from brining Basquias down on her ass. What the hell was she doing? What’s going on here?!

Logically, Gloxinia knew exactly what was going on. There were no nuances, no explanation needed. The goddess had just tried to kill Meliodas. Right here and now. Because apparently that was something that happened in the midst of fucking Stigma.

The goddess shrunk back as her eyes met Gloxinia and Drole. She stumbled backwards several steps, almost falling over Meliodas’ sprawled hand. Her own bloody one shook as she raised it in defense. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly as she frantically looked around them.

“Choose your next words carefully.” Drole seemed to have regained his composure. His voice was even as he spoke, but Gloxinia knew him better than that. He could still her the simmering wrath just beneath his words. His advice was pointless though. There was not a thing the goddess could say in this instant that would save her from making an enemy of the two kings. She seemed to know that too. Because in the next moment, a rush of wind gushed over them as she rapidly took off into the sky.

Gloxinia noted Drole following her path with his gaze. He didn’t feel the need to do the same. They both already knew where she was heading; to the Light of Grace. To Ludociel. There was no doubt in Gloxinia’s mind that the archangel knew about this. For all he knew, he was probably behind this. Why else would a common soldier like her be attacking Meliodas like this? Was this why Elizabeth had been dragged away? So she wouldn’t be here?

Meliodas started moving on the ground and it was enough to finally snap Gloxinia into action. He quickly landed and kneeled on the ground next to Meliodas. The demon was still slumped over. One hand dug into the ground. His arms quivered as he pushed himself up into a semi-kneeling position. He continued to be bent over, but at the very least his face was off the ground. His other hand was pressed tightly around the wound to this throat.

Gloxinia wasn’t sure what to do. His fingers twitched as he hovered his hand over Meliodas’ back. He threw a quick glance at Drole, but the giant wasn’t looking in their direction. His eye firmly trained in the direction of the tower; one pair of arms crossed tensely over his chest, and both sets of hands curled into fists. He was standing guard. Gloxinia couldn’t blame him. He had never thought Ludociel would actually… What would have happened if they hadn’t found Meliodas when they did? What if they hadn’t gone to look for him? Gloxinia shuddered at the thought.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stupidly, and the idiot nodded his head. He probably should have expected that. Gloxinia knew how distraught it made Elizabeth, that Meliodas would always dismiss his own injuries like that. In the moment, with Meliodas’ blood spread over the forest floor around them, Gloxinia would admit she wasn’t alone in that sentiment. Nothing really seemed to rattle him – beside threats against Elizabeth – so of course he’d claim to be fine after a literal attempt on his life.

“I-” Meliodas tried to speak, but what was supposed to be words broke off into a garbled mess of pained sounds that made Gloxinia’s own throat seize and almost sent Meliodas back to the ground.

“Whoa!” Gloxinia quickly grabbed hold of Meliodas’ shoulder and pulled him up till he was sitting on the ground. The closer view of his throat sent a new, fresh wave of nausea over Gloxinia.

“Don’t speak. That’s- Don’t speak,” Gloxinia insisted, rubbing Meliodas’ arm in a poor attempt at comfort. Meliodas grimaced, nodding his head again. “We’ve got you.”

Drole turned to look down at them. His mouth a thin line as he saw the mess under Meliodas’ hand. At least now, blackness covered Meliodas’ eyes as he pushed darkness into the wound. Slowly, painstakingly piecing the burned flesh together again. Gloxinia should have felt relieved, should have just let him tend to his wound in peace, but in that moment he couldn’t stop the words.

“Oh, so now you use your powers?” The bitter comment went against the suggestion Gloxinia himself had made just seconds ago. He couldn’t help it. Not with the sudden rise of anger, this one directed at Meliodas himself.

Meliodas glared at him. The intensity severely decreased by the tear tracks now donning his face and the fact that he couldn’t even pull himself off the ground. Still, an attempt was made. The smeared blood painted a morbid image as a small, almost non-existent sigh pushed past Meliodas’ lips. Despite the size, its message was clear. Gloxinia pushed back at the anger. He could yell at him when this was all over.

Gloxinia let out a sigh of his own, asking “Why didn’t you defend yourself?”

Meliodas looked from Gloxinia to Drole and back. Then he just shrugged, his free hand making a non-committed wave in the air. Gloxinia really hoped he meant that as in a what could I do way and not as a dismissal of the whole thing.

“I’m not saying it was wise,” Drole spoke up. He was looking directly at Meliodas, ensuring he had the demon’s full attention. “In fact, it’s probably the most stupid decision I’ve seen, but… Stigma’s only demon attacking a goddess without any witnesses wouldn’t have been wise either.”

Gloxinia didn’t want to admit Drole had a point. He really, really didn’t. But Drole did have a point.

The cleverness behind Ludociel’s plan was becoming cleared by the second. Meliodas – the one demon around – had been attacked by a goddess away from everyone else. In the end, it would have been his words against hers. They were very few, who would actually believe she had instigated the whole thing. If Meliodas hadn’t thought back – and they hadn’t been interrupted – he would have been killed. If he had chosen to fight back – use his demonic powers – then that would be all the proof needed to declare him untrustworthy – no better than the demons they warred against. No matter the outcome, Ludociel would have gotten rid of Meliodas and not even Elizabeth could have stopped him.

Gloxinia didn’t know what to say to that, so instead he just watched Meliodas. He seemed to struggle. The darkness flickered as he focused on the wound with a pinched expression. He wasn’t bleeding anymore, but his skin didn’t look much better. Gloxinia grimaced. It still looked so bad.

“We should find Elizabeth, she can-”

Meliodas let out a sharp, wordless shout. He grabbed onto Gloxinia’s arm with both hands as he shook his head rapidly from side to side. Gloxinia pressed his lips together – ignoring the way the blood on Meliodas’ hand seeped into his own skin – of course he doesn’t want her to know.

Gloxinia wasn’t exactly thrilled of the idea of telling Elizabeth himself. She was already upset and enraged at the way Meliodas was treated, especially by Ludociel. If they told her he’d tried to have him killed… Gloxinia didn’t want to image how’d she look at that. He sighed, frustrated, but it was Drole who spoke.

“Meliodas…”

Meliodas dropped Gloxinia’s arms. He looked them in the eyes, one at a time, his own gaze steady and unwavering, and shook his head once more. He wasn’t begging this time. It was a statement. He couldn’t even speak, and his throat looked like a burned hog, but Meliodas was not about to let them tell Elizabeth about this. Of all the stubborn-

“Even you can’t just shrug this of, this is serious!”

Meliodas avoided his gaze. His bangs fell over his eyes as he bowed his head slightly. Then he shook his head again and looking up at them again, made some gestures that Gloxinia could barely discern.

Nope! Not happening. Gloxinia was not about to concede that Meliodas had any point whatsoever. Behind him, Drole sighed, equally frustrated. How the hell were they supposed to just accept that their friend had almost been murdered, and telling someone would change absolutely nothing?

“…No… poi-nt,” Meliodas grit out. His voice sounded like he had shards of glass shoved down his throat. Gloxinia was not happy about this but…

“Okay, fine,” he grumbled. Only because they didn’t need to hurt Elizabeth too. “We won’t tell her.”

“This time,” Drole added. Gloxinia nodded sharply. If this happened again, he’d personally help Elizabeth hunt Ludociel down. Meliodas seemed to accept the compromise and brought his hand back up to his throat.

Yeah, okay, that was enough. Gloxinia didn’t know if Meliodas struggled due to the damaged inflicted or because it had been caused by ark, but he couldn’t watch this anymore.

“If you’re not going to let Elizabeth help you,” Gloxinia gently slapped Meliodas’ hands away, “then at least let me.”

Meliodas looked up confused, but Gloxinia was already pulling Basquias into its seventh form. The Moon Rose towered above them in all its impressive glory.

“Droplet of Life,” Gloxinia called out, letting the magic fall over Meliodas. In an instant, nothing but flawless skin was left. Any remains of the damage gone, any remains of Ludociel’s actions too.

Meliodas touched his throat in awe, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You know, some people would just say thank you.”

Meliodas gave him a soft smile, not quite meeting his eyes, “Thank you, Gloxinia. Really.”

“Yeah, well,” Gloxinia tried to shake off the unease left by the whole situation. “Demon or not, you’re our friend.”

Gloxinia shared a look with Drole at that. In his eye, his own determination was reflected. From here on, they’d keep a closer watch over Meliodas. Just in case Ludociel got any more dangerous ideas. Gloxinia wasn’t exactly comfortable letting Meliodas deal with something like this on his own.

“Come on, you two, we should head back before Ellie gets worried!”

After all, his self-preservation seemed to revolve more around Elizabeth’s well-being than his own.

[librathefangirl]

There All Along

ao3 (800+; One-Shot)

King sighed, slumping over Chastiefol. It wasn’t like it was really a surprise. Sure, King had been shocked – he’d never seen Meliodas demon form before – but he can’t say he was surprised. Of course, he hadn’t known Meliodas was a demon. Though he had suspected it. There were some things about Meliodas that didn’t make sense. Now they did. “You’re upset.” King buried his face in Chastiefol at the sudden voice. “I’m not really in the mood to talk, Gowther.” Febuwhump Day 6: Secrets Revealed.

Canon timeline, who’s that? 😂 Also, despite the similarities with Meliodas’ demonic features, this has nothing to do with my Monsters Sins AU. I just like making him look more demon.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

The mage lifter her hand, speaking unfamiliar words, and the image broke. It didn’t happen gradually. It wasn’t a fog clearing. It was a mirror shattering. Like someone pulling the curtain, finally revealing what was behind all along.

What had always been there.

King pressed Chastiefol closer to his chest, staring up at the sky. His brow pulled together as the memory played in his mind.

Meliodas didn’t move as his appearance changed. As his façade fell. Black dragon-like wings, horns, a mark of darkness. True demonic features.

King sighed, slumping over Chastiefol. It wasn’t like it was really a surprise. Sure, King had been shocked – he’d never seen Meliodas demon form before – but he can’t say he was surprised. Of course, he hadn’t known Meliodas was a demon. Though he had suspected it. There were some things about Meliodas that didn’t make sense. Now they did.

“You’re upset.”

King buried his face in Chastiefol at the sudden voice.

“I’m not really in the mood to talk, Gowther.”

The Sin of Lust didn’t listen. He simply sat down beside him. King glanced at him, watching him look up at the same sky King had just been glaring at. They sat like that for a few minutes before King’s frustration got the better of him.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

“You said you didn’t want to talk,” Gowther pointed out, turning to face him.

“I don’t,” King grit out. “So you’re just going to say I’m upset and then not talk?”

“It was an observation. We don’t have to talk about it.” Gowther tilted his head, thinking for a moment. King knew he wasn’t going to like what he said next. “But talking about it can help.”

Yep, not liking it. He almost wished Gowther hadn’t regained his memories and emotions, just so he’d leave him alone. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have anyway.

King sighed, “Of course I’m upset. I don’t know how you’re not.”

He might have suspected it, but it didn’t mean he wanted it proven that not only was his captain a demon, but he’d hidden it from them for years.

“Why would I be upset?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?!” King exclaimed, feeling his frustration rise yet again. “How can you act as if nothing’s changed. He’s been lying to us!”

“The captain has never said he wasn’t a demon,” Gowther reminded. And, yeah, he had a point.

“Wait a second.” Another thought suddenly hit King. He regarded Gowther for a moment. Gowther, another sin from the Demon Realm.

“You knew, didn’t you?” King finally asked. His shoulders slumped as Gowther looked at him confused. King clarified, "That Meliodas is a demon. You’ve known all along, haven’t you?”

“Of course I know,” Gowther acknowledged. “The original Gowther was Captain’s close friend.”

“Right…”

“But nothing has changed,” Gowther continued. He shifted slightly so he could look back down the hill they were sitting on. Reluctantly King did the same. He followed Gowther’s gaze, watching the same scene he did, wondering how they could see so different things.

The scene itself wasn’t anything new. A tale as old as their group. The rest of the sins, gathered together, talking, drinking, enjoying each other’s company. Meliodas and Ban looked like they were caught up in another ridiculous game. Ban had his arm casually thrown over Meliodas shoulders.

Nothing new, but at the same time, completely new. With only the sins around, Meliodas hadn’t bothered concealing his demonic features again. When King watched them all he really saw was the horn that Ban playfully tugged in his drunken stupor, and they way Meliodas’ wings unfolded for a split second to keep him from falling over.

“How can you say that?” King asked, looking back at Gowther. “That nothing has changed?”

Gowther seemed to think his words over before he answered, “When you say nothing, you refer strictly to the captain, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then nothing has changed,” Gowther stated simply, causing King to let out a frustrated sound. Gowther turned towards, his gaze serious as he met King’s.

“The captain hasn’t changed,” he repeated. “He has always been a demon. The only thing that has changed is your knowledge and perception of him.”

King glanced back at the others. Meliodas shoved Ban off him with a punch, in the same way he always did. The same spark in his eyes, the same laugh on his lips.

“Maybe I’m the one who’s changed,” King mumbled as Gowther stood up beside him. The doll paused for a moment.

“You know, you’re not the only one who is upset tonight. The captain is just better at hiding it. Perhaps the reason he hasn’t been honest about himself is because he’s been afraid of how you’d react.”

King looked down at his hands, fiddling with Chastiefol.

“But talking about it helps?” he commented, reusing Gowther’s earlier words.

“It can.”

“Yeah…” King looked down at Meliodas once more. “Maybe you’re right.”

[librathefangirl]

A Debt to Pay - Chapter 2

ao3 (Chapter 2/3; 2/4k+)

Febuwhump Day 19: "You deserve this".

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Torture, Kidnapping.

At long last: chapter 2!! ;D

It should be noted that this fic does not follow canon timeline. The defeat of the Demon King has happened, but Escanor is still alive and the whole chaos thing with Merlin has not happened.

Read Chapter 1 here! Read Chapter 2 on ao3 or under the cut!

In hindsight, Meliodas had not thought this one through. At all. Not that he would have changed anything given the chance. He stood by his decision. There was no way he could have actually let Gowther go through with that stupid plan of his. Confronting – going off alone! – with a demon who wanted to kill you was insanity. Maybe that made Meliodas the biggest hypocrite around, but he didn’t care. He was the captain; Gowther was his responsibility. He was not about to let him kill himself.

That being said, Meliodas probably should have put a little bit more thought into this – thought about what would happen after he got Gowther out of harm’s way. Galvina certainly had. There was no improvising on her part. She’d had a solid plan going into this from start to finish, the only thing that had changed was him for Gowther. For what it was worth, that meant Meliodas’ plan had worked. Now he just needed to figure out the end of the story.

A lot easier said than done. At least if you were looking for a happy ending. The moment they had stepped through the portal, Galvina had slapped a pair of handcuffs around Meliodas’ wrists. It was a solid pair, well-made and high quality. Thick but light, the black-ish metal glinting ominously in the light of the sun. Recognition pricked at his mind; he knew these cuffs. To Meliodas there seemed to be a hum to them, but he knew that was his imagination. He did know this kind of cuffs, they were completely silent to those around them. He’d never actually been on this side of them before. The moment they had shut around his nest, he’d felt the pull and grip of them; the feeling that there should have been a hum louder than a wasp’s nest. They’d been crafted by a demon with the intent to be used against his own kind, as was the Demon King’s wish – a pair of handcuffs capable of inhibiting even the demon clan’s powers.

Guess he wasn’t going to fight his way out of this one.

“Where are we?” Meliodas asked, looking over his shoulder at Galvina. The only response he got was Galvina glaring at him and shoving him harshly to keep him moving. Meliodas resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead looked around as they continued their walk. If he were to guess they’d entered one of the pocket dimensions existing in-between the human and demon realms. They weren’t widely known – although most things regarding the demon realm weren’t widely known amongst the humans – but easily accessible if you knew the right way. Truth be told, Meliodas was relieved. He hadn’t been in the Demon Realm in 3,000 years. He wasn’t sure he was ready to go back there just yet. He especially didn’t want to make that trip with a demon criminal who planned to kill him.

– X –

Fine. I accept your deal. I guess he has learned his lesson about following orders now. So, I’ll take my justice with you. Let’s go!

It felt like Gowther was trapped in a Nightmare Teller.

Don’t leave.

Except this wasn’t some crafted nightmare.

You’re gonna be okay.

This wasn’t a nightmare at all.

Is-... Is this goodbye?

This was all real.

I hope not .

An unalterable reality crafted by Gowther’s own actions.

Look after the others for me, will you?

“Are you okay?”

Gowther startled at Elizabeth’s question. He blinked repetitiously, his focus returning to the present. It didn’t feel any less like a nightmare. Elizabeth sat down beside him, meeting his gaze with a weak smile and eyes glistening with unshed tears. Gowther looked down at the floor. She was worried about him. She shouldn’t be – if anything, she should be blaming him.

“I’m fine. Merlin fixed me.”

Elizabeth shook her head, “That’s not what I meant. How are you feeling?”

Gowther didn’t want to think about that. For once, he didn’t want to understand, he didn’t want to feel it at all. He wished he could look at this without any feeling. Maybe he would still have come to the same conclusion his heart was. The facts pointed to one thing.

“This is all my fault.”

“No,” Elizabeth immediately insisted. “It’s not, Gowther. I know that for certain.”

“How?” Gowther watched as she took his hand in hers, a warm feeling slowly starting to spread through him at her kindness and attempt to comfort. “You weren’t there.”

“Because I know Meliodas.” Gowther looked up at her face just in time to see a tear slide down her cheek. “Because this is what he does. Always has been.”

A soft smile graced Elizabeth’s lips as she looked off to the side. Her gaze turned distant, trapped in memories long ago; maybe back in those early days with Meliodas, maybe somewhere in the multitude of lifetimes they’d shared since.

“Whatever happens,” Elizabeth squeezed his hand gently, “Meliodas will try to protect the people who matter the most to him, no matter the cost. Especially if it’s his own life.”

Her words hung heavy in the air between them. Logically, Gowther saw the truth in them. He might not have known Meliodas through all the lifetimes Elizabeth had, but he still knew him. Meliodas, who’d made himself a traitor to his own kind and family, to fight by Elizabeth’s side. Meliodas, who’d almost turned himself into the one thing he didn’t want to become, to end the curse and save Elizabeth from more suffering. Meliodas, who’d tried to face the Demon King alone, to keep the others away and not have them risk their lives for him any further.

“But,” Elizabeth continued with another reassuring squeeze. “We will find him.”

The tears still shone in Elizabeth’s eyes, yet her gaze was steely. She held her head high, any trace of fear gone from her face. She looked the epitome of the princess she was raised as, but also every bit the goddess who had dared to stand against the gods. Gowther didn’t have to look in her mind to know that whatever doubt she still held was now locked away tightly. To her, there was only one end to this.

Gowther envied her confidence; the refusal to believe this might end in tragedy. The future was too uncertain, the factors too many. Galvina’s behavior alone foretold a different outcome. She was explosive in her actions, driven by her thirst for revenge almost to the point of madness. At the same time, she was determined too; she knew what she wanted and how to get it. She was not about to let anything get in her way. Gowther wasn’t sure they would find Meliodas in time.

– X –

The destination of their journey turned out to be a cross between a cave and an old cottage, or an old wooden cottage jammed into the cracks of a mountain. It seemed a perfect match for Galvina; cold, callous, and firmly stuck in the past. Galvina wasted no time shoving Meliodas inside. As soon as they entered, Meliodas felt the drop in temperature. If he’d been human, he would probably have been shivering. As it was, the low temperature just burned across his skin. The wound on his arm felt especially hot, like a small fire dug into his flesh. When the door shut behind them, Galvina didn’t even bother to lock it. Not that it really mattered. Galvina quickly dragged Meliodas to the wall opposite the door. His back was slammed roughly against the wall, the cuffs threatening to break the skin on his wrists as Galvina attached them to a dangling hook hanging from the ceiling. 

Meliodas’ new position strained painfully through his shoulders and back. No matter how much he stretched, the height of the hook left his feet barely touching the ground, forcing his cuffed wrists to support most of his weight. His cut arm had gone from a small burn to sending ripples of fire throughout his body. Meliodas breathed harshly through his nose, trying to let the new pains wash over him. Once they were firmly shoved to the back of his mind, he redirected his attention to Galvina again.

She had started pacing. A small dust cloud followed in her steps, the sound of them echoing in the small room. Her hands moved quickly in harsh jerking movements. The fluidity she had shown earlier in the fight was all gone now. Similarly, Meliodas could feel himself losing the confidence he’d had when initially confronting Galvina. Though, truth to be told, that confidence had been more of the failure-is-not-an-option variety than the this-is-gonna-end-well kind. Meliodas had always been confident in his own ability; he’d also learned quickly how to be confident even when he wasn’t. A part of him had known this wouldn’t end well, but he had known he could keep Gowther from taking the fall for it too. Gowther was his responsibility, and so was Galvina. As the leader of the Ten Commandments, he was the one who deserved her rage.

Galvina finally came to a stop in front of him, her jaw clenched so tight Meliodas would have worried for her teeth – that was if she hadn’t been plotting his painful demise that very second. For a moment, they both just stared at each other. The only sounds in the room were the slight rattle of the hook’s chain and their strained breathing; Meliodas’ from the position he’d been forced into, Galvina’s from poorly suppressed emotions.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Meliodas tilted his head to the side, taking her in. Her jaw was still clenched enough to make her words sound sharp and forced. The tension running through the rest of her body was almost palpable. Meliodas was in no position to oppose her, not with the restraints hindering his movements and powers. Right now, all he had were his words. 

“What exactly do you want me to say, Galvina?”

Her eyes flashed, miasma leaking out from her like a physical manifestation of her hatred; “That you regret ruining my life!”

Regret… Right. Galvina saw herself as the only victim here. She was putting all the blame on the Demon King and those following his rule. She wasn’t wrong about that, nor about Meliodas’ part in this – but she was also completely disregarding the pain she herself had caused, the civilians’ lives she had ruined. Just like she had been about to do all over again, attacking Gowther for something that hadn’t been his choice.

On one hand, Meliodas could appease her rage, feign a confession for all his wrongdoings, and apologize for even the parts he didn’t regret. This whole ordeal would probably be a lot less painful for him if he did. On the other hand, it wasn’t in Meliodas’ nature. He had learned a long time ago not to let others scare him into submission, even if they had power over him – and Galvina had the power to kill him today. Meliodas hadn’t been born as the most feared demon; he had grown up around demons who were stronger than him, bigger than him, older than him. Even if Meliodas couldn’t do anything to defend himself, he wasn’t about to just submit to her either. If he did he was telling her she was right, and then there would be nothing stopping her from taking her revenge on Gowther as well. Meliodas could only trust that she would honor their deal for as long as he was still alive. He could pray she’d stick to it even after his death, but he couldn’t count on it. By then at least the others should be all caught up. They would keep Gowther safe.

“You don’t want me to say that,” Meliodas responded at last.

“Do NOT tell me what I want!”

“You don’t just want me to say it, you want me to actually regret it. But I don’t. I told you before, Galvina, I’d do it all again.”

She didn’t explode at that like Meliodas had expected she would. Not that it meant that her reaction was any safer for him. Meliodas was well aware of the all-silent kind of wrath, and just how deadly it could be.

Galvina leaned closer, her breath blowing in his face with every hissed word, “I will make you regret it.”

Yeah, this isn’t going to end well , Meliodas thought to himself as Galvina turned around. She walked over to the wall to the left with determined steps.

The room they were in was scarcely furnished. To the right of where Meliodas was hanging were the bare necessities: a bed, a chair, and a table with the remains of a meal. On the other side, the wall that Galvina had approached buckled and bent with the mountain it was embedded in. On one of the few flat portions hung several weapons. All sharp and deadly. Galvina knew how to properly wield them too. She, just like Meliodas, had been raised in a war. For a while, it had felt like fighting was all Meliodas knew how to do. He wasn’t sure Galvina had ever left it behind. Her hand trailed over her assorted weapons; brushing over a double-bladed axe; testing the weight of a curved dagger; before finally she picked up a spear with a slender head that no doubt could still cause serious damage.

I’m sorry, Elizabeth – gods he wished he could see her face one last time �� I can’t give you the life I promised.

Galvina returned to Meliodas, the spear now held tightly in one hand. As she met his gaze, he saw no remorse. In her eyes, she wasn’t doing anything that wasn’t her right. This was why she’d never been offered a spot in the Ten Commandments. This self-centered entitlement that had left ruins in her wake with no regard for enemy, ally, or civilian alike. Even if Meliodas had trusted her on his team, his father would never have trusted in her loyalty.

“Last chance, traitor.”

An eerie calm surrounded her. There was no reasoning with her, Meliodas knew, no way out of this. Ge just hoped Elizabeth and the Seven Deadly Sins would stay away from here.

“I can’t give you what you want.”

Galvina pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath through her nose; “Fine.”

She moved with fluidity and speed, barely giving  Meliodas any time to react before she had driven the spear into his leg. The edges of his vision blurred as a blinding pain erupted through his body. Galvina kept pushing and pushing, pulling a scream Meliodas couldn’t suppress, and she didn’t stop until the spear hit the wall behind him. Finally, Galvina let go of the spear. Both she and Meliodas were breathing heavily. Blood oozed out around the spear, slowly running down the front and back of his leg and pooling on the ground under him. Galvina leaned down close to his face once more, meeting his gaze without hesitation.

“You deserve this.”

The stench of blood hung thickly in the air. It made Meliodas feel woozy – or maybe that was the pain? Or the blood loss? No, not the blood loss. The impalement had been clean, missing anything too important, while the spear itself kept most of the blood from spilling out of the wounds.

“You – ugh – you really think so… huh?”

Galvina turned around and walked over to the weapons again, “And soon you will too.”

– X –

Tension filled the room. Gowther and Elizabeth sat in silence now, his hand still cradled in hers. As time had passed, the others had gathered around them too. They were scattered around the room in various states of worry. Diane sat on Gowther’s other side, biting her lip. Escanor was basically shaking with anxiety as he eyed the door Merlin had disappeared through earlier. King had abandoned his position by Diane’s side in favor of stopping Ban from destroying the wall. Ban was… still destroying the wall. King’s efforts seemed rather futile. To Gowther it looked like it was more about having something to do than actually saving the wall. King did look the least anxious out of them. Gowther could understand it. He was doing the same thing right now, watching the others instead of thinking about the fate he had doomed Meliodas to.

Suddenly the door slammed open. The room froze, all of them staring at Merlin with bated breath.

“I know where they are."

To Be Continued

[librathefangirl]

Zaratras didn't know what he had expected as they neared Danafor. He'd heard the rumors, of course. Even in just the few days since Danafor's fall, they had already spread far and wide. Zaratras wasn't sure what to make of them; they were hard to swallow. One day, Danafor was a kingdom that rivaled Liones in power, the next a burning hole in the ground. It was hard to even imagine a destruction of that scale, capable of wiping an entire kingdom from existence. Perhaps that was what Zaratras had expected: overexaggerated rumors. Though, as he and King Bartra drew closer and closer to the fallen kingdom, the truth stared them down with unforgiving darkness.

LOOK! Look! I've started on my next Febuwhump story (finally). It's for Day 18: Can't Stay Awake. In which I take that first meeting between Zaratras (+ Bartra) and Meliodas (+ baby Elizabeth) and turn the whump dial up to 100.

[librathefangirl]

One Man's Beast

ao3 (3k+ words; One-Shot)

The boy twisted uncomfortably at the scene in front of him. He should have seen this coming. Nothing good ever came from working with a monster hunter. The creature in the cell was unlike anything he had ever seen. Granted, he hadn’t actually seen a demon before. Febuwhump 2023 Day 3: Muzzled.

Warnings: Fantastic Racism, Dehumanization, Blood and Injury.

I'm gonna write a short little story for this still developing AU. *sees the word count* I'm gonna write a story for this still developing AU.

(6 days late but I'm determined to see Febuwhump through to the end! Eventually 😅)

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

The boy twisted uncomfortably at the scene in front of him. He should have seen this coming. Nothing good ever came from working with a monster hunter. Especially Mr. Alaric. But his family had needed the money, so Gavin had ignored his better judgement. It was good money. This time though he wished he’d just stayed home.

The creature in the cell was unlike anything Gavin had ever seen. Granted, he hadn’t actually seen a demon before. Not one like this. He still couldn’t believe Mr. Alaric had actually managed to subdue one. Whatever was in that potion of his most have been really potent to knock out a beast like this.

Now though, the demon was stirring under Mr. Alaric’s massive form. Gavin could feel his hands get clammy and his knees shake as he saw the blackness peeking out underneath heavy eyelids. The demon was small, a lot smaller than Mr. Alaric, but Gavin could tell how dangerous he was. Sharp talons had already scratched deep tears into the wooden floor. Multiple fangs flashed in the dimly lit room as a rumbling growl rose from the demon’s throat.

Suddenly a set of wings unfolded on the demon’s back. Shimmering black-ish purple – a stark contrast against the blonde locks in his head - leathery and so, so massive. Gavin stared in awe at the wings. Their mere size surpassing even the demon’s own body mass and forcing Mr. Alaric off with ease. Mr. Alaric let out loud curse.

“Get the chains, boy!”

Gavin stumbled forward to do as he was ordered. His fingers went numb under his tight hold around the extra thick chains. The demon growled louder, body shuddering with the sound, when Mr. Alaric forced the wings together. Mr. Alaric wrapped his whole arms around them. He grunted with the effort of keeping them form unfolding again. Given the demon’s previous feat of knocking him flat on his ass with his wings alone, Gavin supposed the lingering effects of the potion was the only thing allowing Mr. Alaric to do this.

“Don’t just stand there, help me!” Mr. Alaric shouted with a growl of his own. Any other day Gavin would have said it was threatening. But compared to the animalistic sounds erupting from the monster under them, it was like a child trying to wield a sword like a man: a pathetic execution.

Still, Gavin forced his fingers to work and once again followed Mr. Alaric’s commands. Together they wound the chains around and around and around the demon’s wings until they lied flat against his back, completely useless for anything but proving his inhuman nature.

Next came the collar. Connected to the floor with a short chain of the same kind as the ones for the wings. A sturdy leather band wrapped around the demon’s neck with sharp spikes protruding inwards, designed to keep the beast docile and keep it from breaking free. Then came the muzzle.

Swallowing behind the rising lump in his throat, Gavin handed over the contraption to Mr. Alaric, glad to take a step back for this one. Mr. Alaric worked quickly to secure the demon before he could regain full consciousness. He grabbed a fistful of blonde hair and tugged the demon’s head back with a sharp pull. The demon’s eyes were now wide-open, but he still seemed quite dazed – or so Gavin thought at least. He wasn’t quite sure if you could even tell something like that from eyes that looked like two dark holes. The demon’s growls turned into whines as Mr. Alaric forced the rough metal piece into his mouth. Gavin felt his own mouth go dry at the sight. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like being restrained in a muzzle like that. Mr. Alaric didn’t seem to have any regards about the matter though, ignoring the whimper that left the demon as he clasped the sharp strap over the demon’s nose. The demon struggled against Mr. Alaric as he continued to work – but given the restraints already in place and Mr. Alaric’s better position, it was no use.

Finally, Mr. Alaric stepped back. He admired his work with a smug grin. The muzzle was completely secured now, strapped so tightly around the demon’s face he couldn’t even open his mouth anymore. It was also connected to the collar around his neck. The chain to the floor was short enough to forcibly keep the demon on all four. Mindful of the demon’s hands, Mr. Alaric move closer once more. He grabbed hold of the demon’s chin roughly and tilted his head upwards. Black eyes glared back at him. Apparently, you really could tell the level of dazedness from a demon’s eyes alone. Gavin couldn’t say what had changed exactly, but there was a sharpness to his gaze that hadn’t been there before.

“I’m gonna make a big fortune out of you, monster,” Mr. Alaric declared. He tiled the demon’s head from side to side, admiring the pattern of darkness on the demon’s forehead. Mr. Alaric dropped his head, tsking disappointedly as he regarded the top of the demon’s head.

“Just a shame someone else got to you first,” Mr. Alaric sighed, before glancing back at Gavin, “This is how you can tell we got ourselves a top-class monster.”

To Gavin the fact that it was demon at all spoke enough about the feat of their capture, but he still dutifully watched as Mr. Alaric gestured towards the demon. The hunter sneered again as he clasped his hand around the curved horn growing out from the locks covering the demon’s head. The horn was beautiful; small swirling lines creating intricate patterns across its full size.

“The fancier the horns, the fancier the demon,” Mr. Alaric explained.

If that was the case, Gavin thought this one must be a really high-level demon. Though on the left side of the demon’s head, where a second horn was supposed to be, there was just a short stump. The jagged and rough edge on it showing that something or someone had broken it off by force. The demon jerked back violently as Mr. Alaric rubbed his hand over it. A small trickle off blood ran down the demon’s face as he pulled away as much as the restraints allowed, causing the muzzle to dig into his nose. The demon growled again. This time the sound seemed to echo somewhere in the demon’s chest rather than from his throat.

“Okay then,” Mr. Alaric said, unfazed by the threatening sound. He finally seemed content with his work and turned his back to the demon. “Keep an eye on it, boy. I need to make some arrangements.”

Gavin nodded mutely as Mr. Alaric left. He briefly wondered if the hunter planned on selling the demon in one or more pieces. As the door shut behind him, Gavin was left alone with their captive. The demon’s eyes turned sharply towards him. Gavin let out a quiet yelp and scurried around the edge of the cell. That way he still had a clear view off the demon without him being able to see Gavin. Not that he tried to. The demon just sighed and slumped down on the ground.

It looked… wrong. The demon’s small humanoid body seemed so off curled up on the floor like that. Gavin sat down. Watching the demon, he tried to shake the uneasy feeling. He really wished he had stayed out of this one.

Gavin wasn’t sure how long he sat like that before anything happened. Long enough for his butt to go numb at least. The demon had even dozed off inside the cell. How he could fall asleep tied up on he floor like that, Gavin didn’t understand. But he had. A stream of sunlight peeked through the small window, licking at the demon’s feet.

Suddenly there was a movement in the cell. Gavin scrambled to his feet and made sure to stay hidden as he stared. At first it looked like a small ball of sunlight that slipped through the bars in the window. Though as Gavin looked closer, he saw the flutter of wings and a tuft of brown hair. Oh…

It's a fairy!

Of course it was a fairy. Now it made sense. There had been two people there. They’d both looked human, but clearly they hadn’t been. Gavin had almost forgotten about that. When the smoke of Mr. Alaric’s potion had cleared there had only been the demon passed out on the ground. His true features revealed as he lost consciousness. The other one had been nowhere in sight.

Gavin watched the fairy fly over to the demon, hovering over his sleeping form. He knew he should do something – capture the fairy, call for Mr. Alaric, stop what was happening – but Gavin found himself intrigued by what was happening. One beast had followed then and sneaked into the cell, all for another beast of a completely different race?

Now that Gavin’s eyes had adjusted to the fairy’s brightness, he could see how he reach out and touch the muzzle with his small hands. He chittered angrily and flied back slightly. The brightness increased. The small ball consumed the fairy’s whole body and continued growing. Gavin shielded his eyes from the light. As it decreased again, Gavin could see how the fairy had grown to a human size. He still didn’t look human though. His ears were still sharp, green veins travelling across his skin. He also still had his wings: bright iridescent light blur wings.

The fairy landed by the demon, kneeling on the ground. With light hands and soft words, he woke the demon with a lot more gentleness than Gavin associated with a beast of the forest. The demon stirred, trying to get up as his eyes landed on the fairy. The fairy however was quick to stop him. Gavin pressed himself closer to the wall to catch what he said.

“-don’t move yet.”

The demon stopped. A rumbling – or was that purring? – sounded from his chest. The fairy shook his head as he examined the restraints.

“Don’t. I’m so mad at you right now.”

Unable to speak with the muzzle, the demon settled with letting out a muffled hum as he tiled his head. Gavin wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to say, but the fairly clearly did. His wings fluttered indignantly as he glared at the demon.

“You know why. You shouldn’t have sent me away.”

The demon shrugged casually – or as casually as one could while restrained like an animal in a funky cell. The fairy however seemed anything but. His ears hung as he looked down at the floor.

“And I shouldn’t have listened to you,” the fairy continued. Before the demon could respond he then quickly added, “Captain or not. I shouldn’t have listened.”

Captain? Gavin thought curiously. He continued watching the interaction. The demon pushed himself up enough to lean his head against the fairy’s and this time he definitely purred. The fairy’s mouth twitched, a small soft peeking out before he shook his head again.

“Okay, okay, we’ll take about that later.” He took a step back, looked at the restraints one final time and nodded his head once. “Now, let’s get you out of here.”

The fairy made some gestures with his hands and before Gavin could figure out what he was doing, a vine burst through the floor. Gavin’s jaw dropped. That plant just cracked the floor and grew to the height of the fairy himself just as easy as if it had been freshly turned dirt.

“Hold still,” the fairy said, directing the vine towards the demon. The demon held still without a moment’s hesitance. The vine circled around the where the chain connecting to the floor. With a rough motion from the fairy, the vine gave a sharp pull, and the chain broke. For the first time in hours, the demon could stand up on his feet. He stumbled as he stood, his legs wobbly and probably numb. Though just he did the fairy was there to support him and kept him standing.

“Easy, Captain, I’ve got you.”

When the demon had regained his balance and strength the fairy let go again and moved in front of him. With slow, precise movements, he undid the collar. It dropped to the ground with a rattling thud. The demon let out a content sigh. One hand came up to touch the now irritated and red skin. Next, the fairy reached for the muzzle – but the demon jerked away, smacking into the wall with another thud. Immediately the fairy raised his hands.

“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you, you know that right?”

The demon’s gaze fell to the floor. He curled his trembling hands into fists. The fairy’s hands dropped too. He sighed softly, his brow pulling together.

“I know it hurts,” he said as he took a careful step towards the demon. “But we have to get it off. Do you trust me?”

The demon looked up and Gavin had to clasp a hand over his mouth to contain the gasp. The blackness had disappeared from his eyes. In its place was… human eyes. Startling bright green eyes that shimmered with emotions. He let out another short sound; not quite a purr, but something animalistic Gavin couldn’t quite define. The fairy reached out and held the demon’s arms. He slowly rubbed circles on his skin until his fists uncurled again. Eventually the demon nodded his head. Seeing his eyes there was no doubting the faith he had towards his – friend? The sight made Gavin feel even more shitty than he had all night.

“Okay,” the fairy mumbled, seemingly bracing himself. He slowly let his fingers ghost over the muzzle, frowning. He stopped as he came to the nose. “It’s digging in pretty good and you’re bleeding, this is going to hurt.”

The demon bonked his head against the fairy again, using it as a substitute for the words he couldn’t speak. The fairy let out a shaky breath, “Okay.”

He carefully started undoing the straps. The demon winced every now and then.

“Sorry, sorry!” the fairy quickly apologized as the demon whimpered loudly as he worked on the strap across his nose. The final clasp was finally undid and the fairy quickly but gently removed it from his head, taking out the metal piece from his mouth. Once the demon was completely free from it, the fairy threw the muzzle across the room. It bounced off the wall as the fairy glowered at it.

Before he turned back to the demon, Gavin could have sworn the fairy looked right at him. The though sent a chill down his spine. That wasn’t possible, right? He shouldn’t be visible from the cell. There was no way the fairy could actually know where Gavin was… Right?

The fairy checked over the wound on the demon’s nose, letting out displeased sounds as he did. From what Gavin could see, it could have been a lot worse. It was bad, of course. But it had stopped bleeding and didn’t seem too deep. Once he was satisfied with his examination, the fairy turned towards the demon’s back. With the help of a few more vines, he made quick work of the chains around the demon’s wings. The fairy watched closely as the demon unfolded and folded his wings a couple times, trying them out. They seemed a bit stiff after having been tied up for so long, but otherwise unharmed. Then again, Gavin didn’t really know anything about wings.

“Are they okay?” the fairy asked. The demon just hummed dismissively and let them rest against his back again. Then the fairy turned his gaze on Gavin.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Not possible. Not possible!

Gavin froze. His blood seemed to turn into ice with that one set of eyes.

“King,” the demon croaked softly. His voice was rough after hours confined in the muzzle. He placed a hand on the fairy’s shoulder. The fairy leaned towards him slightly at the touch, but the intensity of his gaze didn’t waver. A sharp trill escaped his lips.

“King.” The demon’s voice was a lot stronger now. He cleared his throat, wincing slightly at the action. “Don’t.”

The fairy glanced at him but seemed no less eager to let Gavin go unpunished.

“If the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t be saying that, Captain.”

The demon’s gaze flickered to the ground briefly. He then shook his head, squeezing the fairy’s shoulder; “Let’s just go. Please.”

Gavin could feel his heart beat frantically in his chest as the fairy still glared at him. The he let out a frustrated sigh and finally turned back towards the demon. Gavin wasted no time scrambling around the corner, making himself completely hidden.

“Fine!” he heard the fairy mutter. “But only because we need to treat your injuries.”

“I’m-”

“If you say you’re fine I’m taking back what I just said.”

The silence that followed told Gavin the demon wasn’t going to press his luck – or rather, press Gavin’s luck. From his hiding spot he could hear how the door to the cell was forcibly opened and the odd pair disappear up the stairs.

Gavin collapsed back against the floor and let himself slide down to the floor once again. What the hell had just happened? He knew he should have stopped them, the moment he realized the fairy was in the cell. He sure as hell shouldn’t have just let them walk out of there. Once Mr. Alaric found out he would be beyond pissed. Gavin definitely wouldn’t be paid. Probably wouldn’t be allowed to work for him ever again – not that Gavin was sure he even wanted to. Or any monster hunter for that matter. He had lost a demon. Demons weren’t exactly a rarity in Britannia, even if they mostly stayed in their own realm. But a living, breathing humanoid high-level demon? Most humans didn’t survive a meeting with one of those, let alone managed to capture one. Yeah, Mr. Alaric would be furious. Though at the moment, Gavin was too preoccupied by another thought to care.

Why would a demon, a best of the shadows, a monster among monsters, show him mercy?

I'm definitely gonna write more stories for this AU. Just gotta figure out a few things first. And yes, that will include the story of Meliodas' broken horn.

[librathefangirl]

From the Ashes

ao3 (One-shot, 3k+)

Given the king’s visions and the rumors circling around about Danafor’s fall, Zaratras and King Bartra set out to the ruins of the once flourishing kingdom. Not sure what to expect, they’re met by a young boy and a baby, at the brink of collapse. / A whumpier first meeting between Zaratras (+ Bartra) and Meliodas (+ baby Elizabeth). Febuwhump 2023 Day 18: Can’t Stay Awake.

Warnings: Blood and Injury.

Would you look at that, I finished something! :) This fic also marks my 20th story for this fandom, yay!

Anyway. This is the kinda story where I take canon (in this case, Zaratras and Meliodas' first meeting) and then make it angstier!

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

Zaratras didn’t know what he had expected as they neared Danafor. He’d heard the rumors, of course. Even in just the few days since Danafor’s fall, they had already reached far and wide. Zaratras wasn’t sure what to make of them; they were hard to swallow. One day, Danafor was a kingdom that rivaled Liones in power, the next a burning hole in the ground. It was hard to even imagine a destruction of that scale, capable of wiping an entire kingdom from existence. Perhaps that was what Zaratras had expected: overexaggerated rumors. Though, as he and King Bartra drew closer and closer to the fallen kingdom, the truth stared them down with unforgiving darkness.

If it hadn’t been for the king’s nightmares, he’s not sure they would have been here today. But as it was, here they were. Despite their disheartening quest, it was a nice day. The world seeming oblivious to the horror that had befallen this place. The clouds above provided a welcome respite from the summer days’ smoldering heat. The wind blew softly around them, ruffling their hair and sending the grass dancing beneath them. They came to a stop on a hill just a stone’s throw away from where Danafor was supposed to tower high. The sight that greeted them had both of them staring in horror. King Bartra spoke his shock aloud as Zaratras took in the scene that was once a bustling kingdom. Thick black smoke rose from the crater into massive clouds, darkening the skies. In a way, it felt like standing at the edge of hell looking in.

Over the wind, the sound of footsteps reached Zaratras’ ears, pulling his focus from the darkness. Slow, shuffling, and a bit uneven. Zaratras’ muscles tensed up, his hand going unconsciously to rest on the hilt of his sword. He narrowed his eyes at edge of the hill as the sound got louder. In an instant he was on high alert, prepared to defend his king if needed to. Then the source of the sound came into view.

“Look!” Zaratras called out. His hand left his weapon to point at the approaching figure. Surprise melted into his words and dug away at his apprehension. “There’s a young boy.”

He had his head down, blocking some of Zaratras’ view, but he seemed to be in a bad state – and oh so young. Seeing him reminded Zaratras of his own son, let behind in the safety of Liones. This boy must have thought he was safe in Danafor too. A new sense of unease settled heavily in Zaratras’ gut; no matter how old, no child should be involved in something like this.

“Hey!” Zaratras raised his voice even louder, trying to get the boy’s attention. “What happened here?”

The boy didn’t react. Zaratras wasn’t even sure he had even heard him or was aware of them at all. He just continued walking; his head pressed down as he hugged whatever he was holding closer to his chest. A striking smell of blood carried with him, breaking through the otherwise overwhelming smoke from the ruins of Danafor. The boy was limping slightly, but just kept walking.

Zaratras jumped off his horse and moved to approach him. He kept his hands free and raised, not wanting to startle the boy. At the same time, his instincts seemed to scream at him to grab his sword. He mentally shook his head at that, ridding himself of those thoughts as much as possible. He was just a child – even if it did look like he was holding onto a weapon himself – he was hardly a threat. What was concerning though was the fact that he still hadn’t reacted to Zaratras’ presence. Had his ears been damaged? Had his eyes? Was he even aware of where he was?

Suddenly the boy stopped. Zaratras stopped too, finally getting a good look at the boy as he slowly raised his head. A bad state was a severe understatement. His blonde locks were haphazardly miscolored by soot and blood and who knew what else. His clothes were in a much similar state. There was a large tear in the fabric of his right arm, showing off the pale skin below. Most of the boy’s face was tainted red with blood as well – a lot seemed to origin from some injury hidden by his bangs. It all, thankfully, seemed to be dried. As far as Zaratras could tell, the boy wasn’t bleeding anymore. Briefly he wondered, watching as the tears that silently ran down the boy’s cheeks mixed with the grime, if all of it belonged to the boy himself. There seemed to be an awful lot of blood. Then again, head wound did bleed a lot.

The most shocking part, except that the boy was still standing for his entire body seemed to tremble with the effort, was the baby cradled in his arms. It couldn’t be more than a few days old at most. Free from the boy’s tattered state, the baby slept quietly in his embrace. In the boy’s hand was not a weapon as Zaratras had initially thought – or not exactly; it looked like a handle, perhaps from a blade of some kind, shaped like a dragon. Its eye seemed to follow you, gazing into your soul.

Once more, Zaratras shook himself free of the eerie thought, focusing back on the boy. He still hadn’t said anything. He was almost as still as a statue too – if it wasn’t for the little things. The heavy breathing. The way he held the baby just a little closer. The unsteadiness of his whole being.

“Hey, those are some serious injuries,” Zaratras said carefully, stepping closer to the boy and bending down so he wasn’t towering over him. The boy didn’t react. His gaze seemed to be miles away.

“You should lie down for a bit,” Zaratras tried again. Before you fall down. He reached out a hand towards the pair. “Let me take the baby.”

SMACK!

The harsh surface of the dragon handle struck against Zaratras’ hand with surprising force. It left his fingers stinging as he quickly pulled his hand back.

“Don’t touch her!” The boy’s voice was strong despite the slight waver in it. At least he was looking at Zaratras now. His gaze was sharp even with the tears still falling from his eyes. His arm shook under the weight of supporting the baby’s weight. His other arm was raised, pointing the handle out at Zaratras. The boy’s focus was zeroed into a single point: keep anyone away from the baby. “Don’t touch my woman!”

Zaratras floundered for a moment, “W-Woman?”

He didn’t get any time to ponder the very strange reaction any further, because it seemed that act of defense was the last straw for the boy. He let out a sort of shuddering groan as his legs gave out. The boy fell to his knees with a thud, bending over with the baby cradled to his chest. His breathing was reduced to gasps. Before Zaratras could reach out to help him again, the boy collapsed entirely. Even as he lost consciousness, the baby seemed to be at the forefront of his mind; the boy twisted as he fell, the baby turning up safely on top of him as he hit the ground back first.

For a brief moment it was as if the world stopped.

Then Zaratras sprung into action; shit! He quickly kneeled by the pair. The boy was sprawled out at an awkward angle; his legs was still tucked beneath him, the baby and handle still clutched in his hands. His head had rolled to the side slightly, showing more of the bloodstained face. He looked so incredibly young. Now, that Zaratras got a closer look, it seemed that none of the boy’s injuries were fresh. Something that was both reassuring and concerning.

How had he ended up like this? Why hadn’t those wounds been taken care of yet? Had he actually been in Danafor when it fell? Was he the only survivor? What about the baby? Where did she come from? How did she end up with the boy? How come she was unharmed when he clearly wasn’t? What the hell had he meant by ‘his woman’?

The questions were too many.

So, instead Zaratras focused on what he could do something about. The present. They could figure out everything else later. He gently tapped the boy on the cheek, then shook his shoulder, calling out to him. He didn’t react. It had been days since the supposed – and by all means real – disaster at Danafor. The boy clearly hadn’t gotten any medical attention, had he even slept? Zaratras wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

While the boy was clearly out for the count for the time being, the baby had started stirring the moment he collapsed. Her face was now scrunching up distressingly, big blue eyes filling with tears. Removing her from the boy’s arms was a lot harder than it should have been. Whoever she was, it seemed the boy was willing to go to unknown lengths to keep her safe. Her first few cries echoed across the hill as Zaratras finally managed to pry the boy’s hands off her. He hushed her gently when Bartra spoke up behind them.

“Zaratras.” He looked back to meet the king’s gaze. “Give her to me. I think we’ve seen all we need here. Let us bring them back to Liones. They could both use a medic and a hot meal.”

He definitely wasn’t wrong there.

“Yes, sir!” Zaratras replied, standing up and handing the baby over. Bartra managed to lull the baby into a new sense of safety as Zaratras turned back to the boy. When he lifted him into his arms, he felt too light. Once more Zaratras couldn’t help but wonder about the odd pair’s fate.

– X –

It was almost a full day after their return to the castle that the boy finally stirred from his sleep. Zaratras had spent most of the time in the guest room that now hosted their two rescues from Danafor. It had been King Bartra’s idea – both the room and Zaratras’ presence – and Zaratras himself would be the last to oppose it. He wasn’t sure the boy would even remember him, but if he did, maybe Zaratras could help ease him into his new reality. Even if the boy didn’t, Zaratras couldn’t image just putting the pair out of his mind. Not before he knew they were okay.

They had already been looked over by a medic by now, of course. Zaratras’ initial assessment had been fairly accurate. Thankfully, the baby had been unharmed, and with a good meal and some warmth had fallen peacefully back asleep. Unfortunately, the boy had been as bad off as he’d seemed. Maybe even worse. Zaratras had noticed his limping but hadn’t quite thought much about the injury behind it. The medic had been horrified and shocked at the idea of the boy actually walking on that ankle. When Zaratras had gotten to see the swollen and blue limb, he’d shared that thought.

Over the course of the day, the boy’s injuries had been tended to as well as they could; cleaned, treated, and bandaged. With a lot of struggles, a servant had even managed to get some water into the boy. The baby for her part, was kept mainly in that same room, by the boy’s side – even as her own needs were tended to by a nursemaid. This was partly because they weren’t quite sure what to do with her yet – nor her actual relation to the boy – and partly because Zaratras feared how the boy would react if he awoke without her there. Even at the brink of collapse, he’d focused on keeping her safe, trying to ward Zaratras’ initial attempt to help them off.

When there was a sudden sound from the boy’s bed, it seemed like Zaratras was once again proven correct. The sound wasn’t exactly a gasp – or a groan or a cry or anything Zaratras knew how to describe. In fact, it was unlike any sound Zaratras had heard coming from a human before. One hand fumbled through empty air as the boy moved the dragon handle closer to his chest with the other. Through his rest, they had let the handle remain within the boy’s possession. His grip on it almost fiercer than the one he’d had on the baby back by Danafor. Since it was just a handle and not an actual weapon, it seemed like causing unnecessary distress to remove it.

On the bed, the boy’s eyes snapped wide open. That same harmless handle was now extended threateningly in front of him, ready to ward anyone unwanted off just like before. He was crouching on the bed before Zaratras had even realized he’d moved. When Zaratras rose from his chair, he made sure to do so slowly.

“It’s okay, you’re safe here,” Zaratras tried to assure the boy, keeping his hands raised as a sign of the  truth in his words. He wasn’t a threat, he just wanted to help him.

“Elizabeth,” was the boy’s only response. His voice was hoarse but determined. Ah, so that was the baby’s name. That was a start.

“She’s okay, she’s right over there.” Zaratras motioned to where the baby was resting. “She’s just sleeping.”

The boy moved before he had a chance to stop him. He jumped off the bed and scrambled over to her – despite how he was limping heavily, despite how it must’ve aggravated his injures. Pain pulled at the boy’s face, but he didn’t even slow down; focused only on the small baby. He favored one leg as he leaned over the baby’s crib and with shaky fingers stroke her puffy little cheeks. The baby – Elizabeth – smiled in her sleep.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” the boy mumbled almost as if to himself, tears shining in his eyes. “I’ll protect you this time. I promise, you’re gonna be okay.”

Zaratras cleared his throat gently, “She’s fine, you have my word. But you should lie back down.”

The boy turned his face to meet Zaratras’ gaze, one hand still hanging low inside the crib. He was now holding onto Elizabeth’s little hand; her fingers curled around one of his one, holding onto him just as much. His thumb rubbed soothing patterns on the back of her hand. It seemed to calm both the little girl, who had moved slightly at Zaratras’ words, and the boy watching him with that look. It was guarded and calculating, unfit for such a youthful face.

After several long seconds in tense silence, the boy turned back to Elizabeth, watching her sleep peacefully. Another moment passed. Zaratras waited. Then the boy spoke up again.

“Where are we?”

“In the kingdom of Liones. You are both safe here. I am Zaratras, the Great Holy Knight. King Bartra and I met you outside of-… We met earlier. Do you remember?”

The boy’s expression turned pinched for a moment; his mouth turned into a tight line, his jaw tensed up to what had to be a painful amount, his eyes narrowed slightly. On the hand still gripping the dragon handle, his knuckles turned white. Then it all went away just as quickly. The boy smiled softly down at Elizabeth.

“Liones, huh?”

He didn’t ask about Danafor, or if there were any survivors. Maybe he didn’t need to.

“Yes,” Zaratras replied, even if the comment hadn’t really seemed like a question. “His majesty wanted to make sure you were both okay. You are free to stay here as long as you want.” Or need. Did they have somewhere else to go? Some family that was worried about them?

The boy nodded his head, “She’s really okay?”

“Very much so,” Zaratras assured, stepping a bit closer. The boy had started looking more unsteady on his feet, as if his legs struggled under the weight of keeping him standing. He was now bracing himself against the crib with both hands. His gaze seemed a bit dazed as he continued watching Elizabeth sleep.

“I’m more worried about you,” Zaratras continued. He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, causing his eyes to snap to him. “What’s your name, son?”

The boy’s eyes widened for the briefest of moments as he regarded him, “…Meliodas.”

“Okay, Meliodas.” Zaratras nodded his head, squeezing the boy – Meliodas’ – shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting matter. “You should get some rest. Those injuries still need time to heal.”

Meliodas shrugged his shoulders, “I’m fine.”

He still sat down in the chair next to the crib, so Zaratras would take it as win. He doubted he would be able to get the boy back into bed anytime soon. So, instead, he gathered the bowl from a nearby table and handed it to Meliodas.

“You should at least eat something,” Zaratras told him. Meliodas looked about ready to protest when his stomach let out a loud grumbling protest. Zaratras chuckled as Meliodas’ face flushed red. He then silently accepted the bowl and began to eat the soup, his gaze falling back on Elizabeth.

Always watching, always returning to her.

As Meliodas ate, Zaratras talked about what had happened since their arrival at Liones, especially in regard to little Elizabeth. He watched as Meliodas relaxed more and more at each reassurance that she was fine and taken care of. Halfway through the meal, Zaratras had to save the bowl midair when it slipped from Meliodas’ grasp. Meliodas blinked at him a couple times, almost unseeing, then just curled up on the chair. It couldn’t have been all that comfortable, given his still healing injuries, but Meliodas seemed content. He watched Elizabeth’s chest rise and fall as he steadily lost his own battle against sleep. Zaratras returned the bowl to its former place on the table quietly. At least he’d gotten some food into Meliodas for now. They could try again later.

When he turned back, the boy was fast asleep in the chair, his head leaning against the edge of the crib. Zaratras couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his lips at the sight. Stubborn boy, that one, that was for sure. He placed a blanket over Meliodas’ sleeping form and managed to sneak a pillow under his head to give him some softness during his rest. He didn’t dare to move him to the bed again, not at the risk of the boy once more jumping out of it as soon as he awoke.

If Meliodas wouldn’t take care of himself, Zaratras would have to do it for him. At least for now, until he was properly healed. Then they could figure out what to do.

[librathefangirl]

No Kin of Mine (But a Kin of Kind)

ao3 (2k+; One-Shot)

(Dragon Meliodas AU) The first time Meliodas met his would-be brother was in the secret highly reinforced cage in the pit of the dungeons. Of course, this was before he was forced into the form of a demon and enslaved as a son of the Demon King. It was years before he would even consider Zeldris his kin. … The hatchling shifted from foot to foot, his hesitation hanging heavy in the air – until suddenly he pushed himself through the food hatch and into the cage. Febuwhump 2023 Day 14: Captivity.

Warnings: Captivity, Cages, Chains, Imprisonment, (Self-)Starvation, Referenced Off-Screen OC Deaths, Suicidal Thoughts.

Oh-uh, new AU alert! This is actually one I've thought a lot about lately, and definitely want to write at least one full multi-chapter story for in the future (dealing with their present-time lives). The context for this AU is simple; Meliodas was never the Demon King's son or an actual demon, he was born a dragon.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

The first time Meliodas met his would-be brother was in the secret highly reinforced cage in the pit of the dungeons. Of course, that was before he was forced into the form of a demon and enslaved into the life as a false son of the Demon King. It was years before he would even consider Zeldris his kin.

Meliodas was still reeling from the realization that he was the only one left of his entire clan and edging closer to meet them in death by the minute. He’d accepted it though. After all, death was a welcome embrace in comparison swearing any kind of loyalty to the so-called king of the realm.

The Demon King was a monster. That was all there was to him.

It had been weeks since Meliodas saw the light of day or shine of the moon. He wasn’t even sure how long. It was all just a pointless circle of pain as demons came and went from the room. He’d seen the Demon King himself a handful of times – he’d bargained and threated and sworn his horrible plans – but it had been a while since last. Mostly it was just his underlings coming into the room. Only the Demon King’s most trusted were allowed into this part of the dungeon. That also meant his most cruel. After all, who else would take the two young of a family and slay everyone else in hopes of making weapons of dragons. The demon didn’t even have the guts to fight his own war.

Zejlah was dead too. Meliodas was certain of it. With the way her back was shaped, she would never have been able to fly or even fight properly – they’d called her useless, defected. Meliodas knew in his heart they’d killed her when they took her away – and he had been completely helpless to stop them. His parents were dead. His sister was dead. He hadn’t protected anyone… He was alone now.

Meliodas had been lying down in the cage when he caught the new smell. His body screamed at the restrictiveness of the cursed chains. They weren’t pointless per se, even a dragon of his age could match most demons around here. At least the non-battle ones, whose focus lied with weapons and not directly participating in the conflict in the goddess clan.

It was a new demon in the room. One with a sent Meliodas didn’t recognize. They were powerful. Meliodas could sense a great power approaching – but also one that seemed… sheltered. Like its holder didn’t know how to properly use it yet. Like they lacked the knowledge and skill, maybe even the confidence to wield it. The demon peeked around the corner. Definitely lacked the confidence and-

Oh. It was the hatchling.

Meliodas knew about the hatchling of course. Everybody knew about the prince of the Demon Realm after all. He had never seen him before. Given the way he was literally tiptoed up to the cage, looking over his shoulder every other step, he clearly wasn’t allowed down here. Meliodas wasn’t sure how he got past the guard, but he supposed the hatchling knew his way around the palace. What he didn’t get was why? The spines of his back stood up as the hatchling came closer. Was he here to poke at him too? To hurt him like his father?

Meliodas let out a low rumbling growl. The hatchling immediately froze. His eyes widen as he met Meliodas’. The hatchling swallowed. The sound echoed slightly in the quiet room. He rose his hands up – he had no weapons or tools. Meliodas couldn’t help but notice that they were trembling. Was this really the Demon King’s hatchling?

When Meliodas didn’t move or growl again, the hatchling swallowed again and stepped closer. He stopped at the thick bars around the cage. He quietly watched Meliodas as Meliodas watched him. He seemed young. Old enough to sneak around the palace alone, but still young. Meliodas didn’t really understand demon ages – their lifespan was so short. The hatchling couldn’t be all that older than Zejlah had been, comparatively speaking. He had a wild tuft of black hair on his head and eyes in the greenest shade Meliodas had ever seen.

His father had told him about that. That a demon’s eyes turned black with their power. It happened when they used their powers, but they could also do it voluntarily. If they choose to, they could cover just their eyes without actually using their powers. They did that to intimidate, or when they felt threatened. Meliodas had never actually seen a demon’s true eyes before now. Why was the hatchling showing them to him? Even if Meliodas was chained and caged, no one else did that.

Meliodas tilted his head as he observed the hatchling. The hatchling gasped quietly at the movement and a spike of curiosity mingled with the heavy stench of anxiety. Meliodas felt his own interest rise. This hatchling was nothing like he’d imagined. Nothing like any other demon he’d met so far. There wasn’t anything evil to him, no sinister sadistic urge.

The hatchling kneeled on the ground, pulling the bag he had carried off his shoulder. As he opened it, Meliodas was hit was a scent so delicious that his stomach let out a loud earnest scream for food. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate something. The demons had given him food – a malnourished weapon was a weak weapon – but he hadn’t eaten it. The water he’d still drunk. Accepting death and choosing death was two very distinct things.

The food the hatchling pulled out of the bag was nothing like the food Meliodas had been given. That had barely counted as food. This was a proper, actually cooked meal. By the size of the fish, this wasn’t the hatchling’s food either. No, it was decent size for a young dragon. Meaning, he had to have gotten this specially with this in mind.

Meliodas rose as much as the chains allowed him, his spines rising in fear once more. He had brought him food. His father must have sent him. In an attempt to keep Meliodas from starving himself.

While the hatchling’s eyes widened again. He seemed determined to not shake this time. He met Meliodas’ gaze head-on. Oh, he reminded Meliodas of Zej. In his eyes there seemed to be the same spark Zejlah had gotten so often. The spark that meant she had just decided to do something inherently stupid that was going to pale Meliodas’ scale by the end of it. For a while, he’d been certain he would be the youngest dragon with pale scales – all thanks to his reckless little sister of course. He guessed he was saved from that fate now. It wasn’t like he actually cared if the demon hatchling was reckless or not. He had no reason to.

As Meliodas watched him the hatchling took a deep breath and opened the food hatch. With a strong push he sent the fish a good bit into the cage. When it came to a stop, he looked up at Meliodas. Meliodas glared at him. Nice try, but he wasn’t falling for it no matter how much his stomach rumbled.

 The hatchling frowned when Meliodas didn’t eat it. He rubbed his hands together. The determination gave room for the anxiety again. Good. He could be anxious. It didn’t matter his feelings; Meliodas had made up his mind. He wasn’t going to be some weapon. The goddesses had never done him anything. If they’d declared war against the demons, it probably was their demons fault. It wasn’t like Meliodas had seen any reason to save them. So, the Demon King could continue his poking and his hurt and his stupid little games. Meliodas didn’t care anymore. The demons had already taken all his reasons to live, why not let them take his life as well.

A loud sigh pulled Meliodas’ focus back to the hatchling. There was a clear smell of frustration coming off him. It seemed so out of place with the nervous fiddling, Meliodas tilted his head amused. Only for a moment. Then he lied down on the ground again. The hatchling wasn’t here to hurt him, and he didn’t have the energy to play his games – whatever they were.

The hatchling shifted from foot to foot, his hesitation hanging heavy in the air – until suddenly he pushed himself through the food hatch and into the cage.

Meliodas startled. What the hell was he doing?

The hatchling stared at him wide-eyed as he got to his feet. Yet still, there was no darkness in his eyes. When was the last time someone was this close to him without any weapon or tool to hurt him? They watched each other, waiting for someone to strike. Slowly, the hatchling moved to the fish – and pushed it even closer to Meliodas.

Why? This didn’t make any sense. Sending the hatchling into his cage, unarmed and unsupervised, it didn’t seem like something the Demon King would do. It didn’t make sense. If this wasn’t the Demon King’s doing, the why was the hatchling so determined to get Meliodas to eat.

Why?

The hatchling gasped and stumbled backwards until he fell on his back. Sitting up, he stared at Meliodas. His eyes were impossible wide, and his mouth hung. Meliodas stared back, equally shocked. He hadn’t meant communicating with the hatchling.

The hatchling drew a shaky breath and got back to his feet. He stretched to his full – yet still very small – size, keep holding Meliodas gaze.

“You need to eat,” he said. Meliodas was too busy to wrangle his own emotions to even try to get a grasp on the hatchling’s. What was he doing?

Why do you care? Meliodas asked. The hatchling’s eyes widen slightly again as Meliodas’ voice reached his mind. The hatchling dropped his gaze. The frown was back on his face.

“I… There’s enough death as it is. We shouldn’t be killing creatures of our own realm.” He looked back up at Meliodas. “Father will kill you if you don’t cooperate. And you will kill yourself if you don’t eat!”

Well, yeah, that’s the idea, little hatchling, Meliodas wanted to say, but he kept the thought to himself.

But why do you care? Meliodas asked instead. This still didn’t make any sense.

“I don’t want you to die,” the hatchling admitted. Tears shone in his eyes and oh by the goddesses, how was this Meliodas’ life? How was this the Demon King’s hatchling.

Meliodas huffed out a sigh and pulled the fish closer to him. The hatchling got a stupid grin on his face as he saw him eat it. Meliodas ignored how fucking good the food tasted and instead focused on how ridiculous the situation was. The Demon King’s hatchling had snuck into the dungeon, broken into his cage and then manipulated him into eating with the power of hatchling tears, all because he didn’t want a dragon he didn’t even know to die.

While Meliodas ate, the hatchling talked. Meliodas didn’t know if it was because he was nervous being in cage with a dragon or if he just didn’t have anyone else to talk to. He talked a lot. He didn’t mention the war or the goddesses or the dragons. Instead he talked about stupid everyday things. Mostly what he had done today, and how dumb he thought his master was for not letting him carry a sword outside of training. It was almost endearing. Of course a hatchling wasn’t allowed to carry a sword. Not even the Demon King was that foolish.

When Meliodas was done, the hatchling was too busy to notice. He was in the middle of a story of how his master – Cusack? – had been teaching him to form his wings. He wouldn’t be taught to fly yet, he’d told Meliodas grumpily, but he was learning how to shape his wings. The idea of creating your own wings with the power of darkness was absurd and intriguing to Meliodas. Meliodas didn’t stop him from his story. He just put his head on the ground and listened to the hatchling talk.

Neither seemed to realize what they were doing until suddenly a door open with a startling creak. They both shut up to their feet. The hatchling’s eyes widen yet again as he stared at the staircase leading to the door, his hands pressed against his mouth. His fear was almost overwhelming.

Without thinking, Meliodas pushed him to the ground with a gentle nudge and folded his wing around him.

He was hiding a hatchling under his wing, and he had a demon against the most sensitive part of his wing, were two thoughts that fought for the prize of most panic-inducing.

The guard peeked his head around the corner. His tense expression quickly became a bored one when all he saw was Meliodas glaring at him from the cage. By some miracle, he didn’t notice – or didn’t care about – the open food hatch or the hatchling’s discarded bag. He disappeared up the stairs again, grumbling about someone hearing voices and the door slammed shut behind him.

Meliodas sighed deeply, pulling back his wing. What the hell was he doing?

“Thank you,” the hatchling whispered as he looked at him with a genuine expression.

Meliodas just huffed and lied down on the ground. He turned his head away form the hatchling. He hadn’t done it for him. Meliodas would just have been blamed if the hatchling was found in his cage. That was all. He was just looking out for himself. He had no reason whatsoever to care for the hatchling. Least of all try to protect him from his own kind.

It didn’t matter if he reminded him of Zejlah. Or if he had stupidly green eyes that never turned black as he looked at Meliodas. Or that he had a stupidly pure grin. Or that he stupidly cared that Meliodas lived. Or that he stupidly would just sit around and talk to him.

Behind him, the hatchling crawled back through the hatch, picked up his bag and snuck back out from the dungeons. In the absolute silence that followed, Meliodas told himself he was still just trying to understand the confusing night. He didn’t actually wish that the hatchling had stayed.

---

And just like that, we are officially halfway through my Febuwhump stories! Yay! (And even though February is now over, don't worry, I will continue finishing all of these stories!)

[librathefangirl]

My Love, It Burns

ao3 (3k+; Chapters 3/3)

The realization burned. An ember deep in her heart growing hotter and hotter the worse the situation got. It hurt. After all, Elizabeth had spent over 3,000 years avoiding this very moment. Not always consciously, but when the memories had been there, she had hoped and prayed and wished for this day to never come. Now it was here. Febuwhump 2023 Day 13: Forced to Hurt a Loved One.

Chapter Warnings: Blood and Injury.

Read Chapter 1 on ao3 or under the cut!

The realization burned. An ember deep in her heart growing hotter and hotter the worse the situation got. It hurt. After all, Elizabeth had spent over 3,000 years avoiding this very moment. Not always consciously, but when the memories had been there, she had hoped and prayed and wished for this day to never come.

Now it was here.

The ambush had been unexpected. They’d been caught off-guard, even overwhelmed. Something had to be done. As Elizabeth met Meliodas’ gaze, they both knew what that was. She didn’t want to, but she knew. Tears stung her eyes as Meliodas nodded his head at her from across the battle. He didn’t see another way out, and try as she might, neither could she. Meliodas stood tall; his gaze unwavering even as his hands shook. In his eyes, there was unyielding trust as he gave his life to her – and a resigned acceptance Elizabeth didn’t want to see. It was the only way.

She hated it. Hated, hated, hated it.

In the end, it was a move Elizabeth had learned in the first holy war; something she had always been capable of in some way. You might even call it her ultimate move. It was powerful enough to sear away any darkness it crossed paths with. In the best or worst way, the damage could be irreparable. A destructive explosion compared to the well-aimed stab of an Ark.

In the end, it was a move Elizabeth had dreaded the day she would willingly have to unleash it.

After it happened, Elizabeth couldn’t move. Her limbs felt like rocks – heavy and unmoving – yet at the same time they trembled like leaves in a storm. Her breaths were stuck somewhere between her chest and her mouth, which was too dry to even form words. Even if she could, she didn’t know what she would say. What could she say? There was no word that could change what had just happened. What she had just done.

Gloxinia was by her side, his hand rubbing circles across her back – it felt wrong. She was the assailant, not the victim. He shouldn’t be comforting her. Drole spoke above her, voice laced with concern as he asked if they were okay – no… She wasn’t the one hurt. He shouldn’t even be asking about her. Why were they focused on her? It wasn’t right. She had hurt him! Why were they worrying about her? She had- They shouldn’t- She-

A hand wrapped around her own and suddenly the air reached her lungs. Tears burned her eyes as she clung to him. She had no right to depend on him like this – to have him as the only thing keeping her together – when she had been the one to hurt him. If she hadn’t regained control when she did, if he had just been a little closer, she could have killed him.

Fingers brushed against her cheek; taking away her tears and putting her back together all with one touch. She pressed one hand against her mouth, stifling the sobs as she looked up at him. Green eyes that could drown her if she only gave them the chance met hers.

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth cried, and somehow the words made it out of her mouth still sounding like words. Meliodas had the audacity to smile at her. Even though his expression looked a little too pinched, even though she could see exactly where her light had struck him, even though the darkness inside him had to be screeching at the damage she did – he was still trying to comfort her.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t worry,” he told her. That damn fool. She could see the way his body was still trying to repair itself. She could feel the turmoil of his power. How much was he hurting because of her? Why was he the one caring for her?

“Are you sure you should be moving?” Drole suddenly asked.

“You shouldn’t,” Gloxinia answered before Meliodas could. He had backed away slightly – letting Meliodas take his place beside Elizabeth – and was now eyeing the demon critically. Meliodas just rolled his eyes.

“I’ve had worse,” he insisted. His breath hitched a little around the pain. Elizabeth didn’t know if she should be relieved or horrified that it probably was true. “Are you okay, Ellie?”

Elizabeth shook her head, pushing back a new wave of tears, “I’m sorry.”

Those seemed to be the only words she could manage. The only words she should be saying.

“Come on now,” Meliodas mumbled and pulled her into a careful hug. “I’m just glad even goddesses can lose their cool.”

She could see Gloxinia shake his head, hear Drole’s deep sigh. If the surge of power hadn’t left her exhausted, Elizabeth would have given him her piece of mind. As it was, she only let her head thud against his chest. Despite everything that had happened, Meliodas’ hearts still beat, slowly and steadily. They were the only sound she needed in her life.

“You shouldn’t joke like that,” Elizabeth muttered. “I could have-”

“But you didn’t,” Meliodas cut her off. “I’ll be fine, okay? I’m still here.”

Right then and there, Elizabeth made a vow to herself. Never again, would she hurt him like that. Control or not, her light would only ever heal him. Never harm.

3,000 years later, she would break that very promise.

When Elizabeth opened her eyes, her body ached all over. She’d been exhausted before, had been hurt before. Except literal death, it all faded compared to this. That is, until she remembered what happened. The stab through her heart was indescribable. She had done that. No accident, no holding back this time. She had-

“Elizabeth?” A hand squeezed her shoulder. No, it was all wrong. It wasn’t the one she wanted – the one she needed to keep her together. “You’re finally awake. Are you okay?”

Elizabeth met Merlin’s gaze. The tears trailed down her cheeks when she tried to form an answer. Any answer. She couldn’t do it. Somehow, Merlin understood it all anyway. After all, there was only one thing that mattered right now.

Merlin looked away. Elizabeth could feel her heart break. No… Please, no.

“He…”

To Be Continued

---

Since I couldn't decide which direction I wanted the story to go, you now get to choose your ending:

Chapter 2: Good Ending (read on ao3 here) or Chapter 3: Bad Ending (read on ao3 here)

[librathefangirl]

I'll Carry You(r Weight)

ao3 (900+ words; One-Shot)

Those monsters choose the right time to flee. Now Ban was too preoccupied with Meliodas’ unconscious ad bleeding from. As it was, they’d get to live another day. Ban gently scooped Meliodas up in his arms. As he did, he couldn’t help but quietly curse at how tiny he felt. Febuwhump 2023 Day 4 (Alt. 6): Limp.

Warnings: Blood and Injury.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

Those monsters choose the right time to flee. Now Ban was too preoccupied with Meliodas’ unconscious and bleeding form. As it was, they’d get to live another day.

Ban hadn’t realized the severity of it at first. He’d expected Meliodas to just bounce back on his feet as he usually did. When he didn’t, Ban knew. He quickly abandoned his stretching and jogged over to his captain. The last of his own injuries swiftly healed as he did.

Meliodas remained unmoving as Ban kneeled by his side. Turning Meliodas’ head slightly, Ban saw the root for his lost consciousness. He had a gash across the side of his head. Blood oozed out and had turned his blonde locks a morbid red all the way down to his shoulder. He also had a larger, deeper gash across his stomach. Unease settled in Ban’s pit as he examined and wrapped the wound with a piece of his shirt. Normally, Ban wasn’t too worried about Meliodas’ injuries – the captain had some exceptional healing abilities – but by the looks of it, these would need tending too. Not that Ban was about to bring Meliodas back to that village. On purpose or not, the information about the monsters in the woods had been less than adequate. He was not about to trust them again.

Home to Liones it was then.

Merlin was supposed to put up a portal not too far from here anyway. It would be just as fast as the village. Plus, there Ban knew Meliodas would be cared for properly. The captain of the Seven Deadly Sins was too valuable to the kingdom for some half-assed healer. And it wasn’t like any of the other sins would let anything less slide either.

Having made up his mind, Ban gently scooped Meliodas up in his arms. As he did, he couldn’t help but quietly curse at how tiny he felt. It almost seemed wrong to think that. Sure, Ban had more than once joked about the captain’s lack of height; he’d called him vertically challenged, used his head as an armrest, placed his stuff on the top-shelf, and whatnot. And yeah, he’d definitely failed to hide his laughter as Meliodas was mistaken for a child, on multiple occasions. Hell, Ban himself had mistaken him for a child the first time he ever met him – a child who had then promptly thrown him outside through the heavy prison wall. But despite it all, Meliodas had never actually seemed this small before. He always had a presence that matched his power and a mood that rivaled the sun. Now though, unmoving and light as he was in Ban’s arms, it just felt wrong.

Ban carefully maneuvered Meliodas onto his back, starting his trek back home. He ignored the blood he could feel seep through the improvised bandage and into his own jacket. The monsters were lucky. If he’d had the time to spare they would all be dead three times over by now. But that would have to wait. The captain came first.

Ban made it about halfway there before Meliodas started stirring. He groaned hoarsely against Ban’s shoulder as he started to move. Relief flooded Ban’s heart as he put Meliodas back on the ground. He made sure to keep a steady hand on his shoulder, just in case the captain was about to collapse again.

“Owie,” Meliodas muttered as he wrapped an arm tightly around his own stomach. Ban almost snorted, settling for shaking his head at the underwhelming reaction.

“You feeling okay there, Captain?” He tried to catch Meliodas’ gaze, but he was still curled around his midsection. “You back with me?”

“Feels like I cut stabbed,” Meliodas admitted. This time Ban did snort.

“I’m pretty sure you were.”

“Oh.” Meliodas finally straightened, meeting Ban’s eyes. “Then I guess I’m just as expected.”

He shrugged Ban’s hand off casually and took a few staggering steps forward.

“Whoa! Hold on a second, Cap’n.” Ban was quick to stop him. He had just been bleeding all over Ban’s back, he was not about to let him walk back to Liones like that. “Didn’t you hear me, you were stabbed.”

“I’m fine,” Meliodas dismissed – and yeah, when Ban looked the wound had stopped bleeding. “Where we ‘eadin’”.

Ban watched him for a moment. He was swaying slightly, his words slurring together a bit at the end.

“Liones.”

“What about the monsters?”

“Not our problem.”

“Ban.” The reprimanding tone would have worked a lot better if Meliodas hadn’t been rubbing at his eye like a sleepy toddler. “I’m serious.”

Ban sighed, knowing that Meliodas still wouldn’t let it go; “We got the one causing the problems. As for the others… not our problem.”

“But-”

“No buts. We’re heading home,” Ban pushed, and Meliodas relented with a sigh and a nod. Too easy, he needs to rest.

“But you ain’t walking,” Ban added.

“I’m fine,” Meliodas insisted again. Right before he stumbled. In fact, he probably would have fallen flat on his face if Ban hadn’t reacted as quickly as he did.

“Riiight,” Ban drawled, pulling Meliodas back to his feet. Once he had, he kept a firm grip around his arm. He did not trust the captain to not do anything stupid again. Like walking. “Because everything will be better if you break your nose falling asleep walking.”

“I won’t-”

“Nope!” Ban lifted Meliodas onto his back again before he had a chance to even finish his protest. Meliodas sighed dramatically but flopped down against Ban’s shoulders.

“You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue,” Meliodas mumbled.

“Uh-huh.” My point exactly. “Get some rest, Captain. I’ve got you.”

[librathefangirl]

One Day This Will Be Over (One Day This Will End)

ao3 (500; One-Shot)

Meliodas hadn’t said a word since Merlin had found him. He was sitting by the grave – and had been for who knew how long. The rain poured down, but he didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t even react as Merlin approached him. His eyes stuck on the cross but unseeing. Dirt and blood covered him. Febuwhump 2023 Day 16 (Alt. 7): Immortality.

Warnings: Blood, Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Mentions of Canonical Character Deaths (Elizabeth's reincarnations).

Just a little short something today (a quintuple drabble, actually).

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

Meliodas hadn’t said a word since Merlin had found him.

He was sitting by the grave – and had been for who knew how long. The rain poured down, but he didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t even react as Merlin approached him. His eyes stuck on the cross but unseeing. Dirt and blood covered him. It colored his clothes. It smudged across his skin. It stuck in his hair, giving him a frantic appearance.

Merlin didn’t ask. She didn’t need to. What she saw was enough. It painted enough of the unpleasant picture for her to not want the rest of the answers. At least, despite how hard it was seeing Meliodas like this, it could have been worse. It had been a lot worse before.

Slowly, Merlin got Meliodas away from the grave and out of the cold. Meliodas barely reacted – silent and still, he let her guide him. Merlin tried to not be discouraged. It could have been worse. This she could deal with. So, she focused on her task: first, the wet clothes; then, the dried blood.

Meliodas didn’t even wince as she scrubbed at the dried-in blood and dirt, rubbing at the skin of his cheeks. Eventually, all that was left was his hair. It was a mess. No, it was worse than a mess. By the gods, how long had Meliodas been sitting like that?

Little by little, his hair looked blonde again. Merlin dried it off and began combing through it. Partly, because he really needed it, partly because it gave her something to do. She wasn’t quite ready to leave him on his own just yet. Still, she wanted to give him the time he needed. That was, after all, all they had. The clock had been reset once more.

“Merlin?” It was the first time either of them had spoken for what felt like hours. The first time Meliodas spoke since she found him. His voice was hoarse and barely audible.

“Yes?” Merlin hummed, continuing her work. At first, it seemed like he wouldn’t continue. Then he spoke up once more.

“Would you kill me?”

Merlin paused. She met his gaze in the mirror. His eyes were red and puffy, fresh tears making them all shiny. She sighed softly.

“I will not.”

“Please?”

Merlin avoided his gaze at the pleading tone. She focused on her combing as she shook her head.

“No.”

There was another beat of silence. Then,

“It hurts.”

“I know.”

“I just-” He seemed to struggle with his words. “I just want it to stop.”

Merlin faltered once more. She felt helpless at his pain. After all these years, after all these Elizabeths, even with Merlin and Meliodas joining together to find a solution, it almost seemed pointless. So far, all their ideas and attempts had been failures.

“I know,” Merlin repeated. For now, that was all the comfort she had to offer. “But we will end this. Maybe not today, but it will stop. I promise you that.”

---

For those who might have noticed, yeah, there is kind of a reference to Chapter 2 of Who'll Hug the Prince of Hell? in this one.