#the things you avoid with chronic cough...

[cantquitu]

.

[ryker-writes]

Your angst fic had made me go into angst creative mood. Twisted wonderland Character/s of your choosing of younger sibling that have chronic illness but hide it from their family. Often when to the toilet to cough out blood to avoid suspicious. Even went as far as asking the dr to keep it a secret because they don't want to burden their family and wanted them to enjoy their life because they already suffer so much and the distance actually help. Until sibling collapse and went into coma and the Dr had to break the news that they don't have much time left.

If it not to much- I'm feeling very angsty-

Oh my the heavy angst. This is so sad tho but I love it. These actually ended up longer than I thought they would be. I just had too many thoughts and it hurt my soul to write this because it's so sad but I enjoyed it

sorry not sorry if anyone cries <3

Characters: Leona, Idia, and Malleus

warnings: Mentions of blood, implied reader death, angst, no happy ending

Request rules and Masterlists

Leona:

you knew you should tell Leona about your condition

he was your older brother and he should know

but Leona was pretty protective and would drive himself mad demanding that somebody find something to help you

and he would spend all of his time worrying and fussing over you

so you didn't tell him

you wanted him to enjoy things and be happy

he's already struggled so much growing up and you don't want to burden him more

also you wanted to peacefully enjoy the time you had with everyone without a lingering sadness in the air

so you pleaded with the doctor to keep it a secret

and thankfully they did

all you had to do was hide the blood that you may cough out

so your bathroom trips became more frequent

Leona even joked that you should see the doctor about how much you have to go to the bathroom

but he didn't know the truth, and he was happy

that's all you wanted

until one day you woke up feeling weaker

you tried to fight it and carry on as you normally would

but for some reason you just couldn't

it was when you were walking in botanical garden towards Leona

black spots started to cloud your vision and you felt like you lost control of your body

the last thing you heard was Leona shouting

Leona was very worried when he saw you collapse

and you weren't responding to him either

he rushed you to the infirmary as quickly as he could and demanded that the doctor sees you immediately

when the doctor tells him that you're in a coma and don't have much time left, he's angry

how could you not tell him about your illness

he would've tried to help you if you just told him

Leona will spend most of his time by your side, waiting for you to wake up

he's not going to waste a moment somewhere else

he doesn't know what to do with himself

he's so angry with himself for not knowing sooner and not being able to do anything

you have to wake up, you just have to

Idia:

the Shroud family was a strange one

most of the family were shut-in's that were pretty isolated and lonely

your big brother Idia was a prime example of this

he spent most of his time behind the screens and barely interacted with other people

and he didn't really have friends either

both you and Ortho wanted him to be happy

and that's why you didn't tell him about your illness

if he knew he would isolate himself further and bury himself in trying to help

he would sacrifice his own health for the sake of you

and you couldn't let that happen

though you did hope that somehow he would be able to be happy and have a friend before your illness took over

it was difficult to keep it hidden

Ortho regularly does scans on you and Idia's health so he knows if something is wrong

so he knew, but you had to convince him not to tell Idia

it was a long process and filled with tears but he gave in eventually

and so when you would spend time with Idia, Ortho would be a little sad but hide it well

when you made and excuse of going to the bathroom Ortho knew what was happening and would make up some excuse to Idia about you drinking a lot of water or something

but then one day you were walking through the school halls with Ortho and Idia's tablet

it hit you so suddenly that you didn't even have time to react

as you coughed you could feel the blood sputter out and onto your chin

this coughing fit seemed worse than the rest and you couldn't stop

it hurt and even brought you down to the ground, and after a bit you passed out

Ortho was quick to help stabilize your condition and take you to the infirmary

all that came from the tablet was panicked noises and frantic questions

once the doctor checked up on your condition, he gave them the bad news

you had been sick for a long time and it's led you to a coma

with the way your condition was progressing, you didn't have much time left

Idia was so confused

how could both he and Ortho not notice especially when Ortho did health scans

but Ortho didn't answer and Idia could just tell that Ortho already knew

Night Raven College was buzzing with gossip that day

some were saying they saw Idia Shroud himself quickly walking through the halls and others denied that it couldn't be true

the notorious shut-in would never even leave his room or go outside Ignihyde

but the rumors were true

Idia Shroud had left his room and walked through the halls to the infirmary

and he stayed there all day constantly checking up on every little change in your condition

and when he wasn't checking on your condition he would sit there quietly and think

why did this have to happen?

why did it have to be you?

it wasn't fair

Idia was making the stressful trek through the halls every day so he could stay by your side in case you woke up

as he sat there he would play some of his video games and tell you all about it like he normally would, but this time you weren't able to respond

Malleus:

Malleus didn't have a lot of people he treasured in his life

those in Diasomnia were like his family, but you were actually his family so he treasured you dearly

he was always looking out for you and doing everything he could to make sure you were happy, and you wanted the same for him

so when the doctor had informed you of your illness and what would happen, you didn't want to tell him

Malleus would be crushed at the news

He had always been someone who was lonely

and you were like the one person he had that wasn't required to be around him

if he were to learn that you would soon be taken away from him, he wouldn't be able to cope

and you wanted to see him happy as long as you would be here

you couldn't tell him and instead kept it hidden from everyone

Malleus never questioned it much when you ran off to the bathroom

he would just ask if you were alright and once you said you were, he wouldn't ask past that

and so many days and even weeks past as you spent time with Malleus

he seemed happy and you were happy to see him like that

but it was when you were going on one of his gargoyle walks when the world started to spin

you wanted to ignore it and act natural before Malleus could notice, but it was all to much

your legs seemed more tired than usual and you fell to the ground

you could hear Malleus ask you repeatedly what was wrong but you couldn't answer

then the world faded to black

The great Malleus Draconia was terrified

you weren't responding to him and he didn't know what was wrong

his healing magic was amazing, but he couldn't heal injuries he didn't know about

so he picked you up and teleported the two of you to the infirmary

the doctor had to stop whatever they were already doing when the fae prince himself demanded his assistance

and the doctor checks up on you and tells Malleus everything

you were sick, now in a coma, and you were running out of time

the room was quiet for a minute as Malleus processed what the doctor said

and then, thunder

the worst thunderstorm Night Raven College has ever seen has been summoned

lightning was striking all around the campus and many students were taking shelter while terrified

but the infirmary was the safest place from the storm

Malleus sat by your side quietly pondering his thoughts

he was angry

not at you but at your illness for doing this to you, life for cursing you this way, and mostly at himself

he should've been able to see the signs before it got to this point

he should've been there for you

he should've helped you

how ironic it is that one of the most powerful mages was so helpless to save the one person they treasured most of all

Lilia, Silver, and Sebek came to find him after the storm started

and when they did, they didn't even say anything, but felt the heavy atmosphere

Lilia tried providing some comfort, but Malleus just stayed silent

for days after that, his three guards stood outside the infirmary and prevented anyone from disturbing the two of you

the storm persisted and Malleus never left your side

he would sit there for hours silently wishing for you to wake and be okay

even though he knew that was unlikely

but he wouldn't leave and possibly miss you waking up

that was simply one event he wouldn't miss

Malleus was never good at noticing how quickly time passed

but as he sat by your side, he was painfully aware of every passing second that you lie there

[morganski-19]

The One with Sleeping

Steve wakes up with someone’s arm wrapped around his stomach. Which is odd considering he didn’t have anyone over last night. And he’s on his couch with beer bottles on the coffee table and what looks like two crushed ends of a joint in the ash tray.

But he’s too groggy to figure it all out, and it’s probably just Robin anyway, so he leans his head back down and starts to fall back asleep. Until the other person stirs and sits up rapidly, causing him to fall off of his couch.

“What the fuck,” he grunts, slowly getting up from the ground. At least he’s awake now. “Why did you throw me off the couch Rob-.” Steve stops as he sees who’s on the couch. “You’re not Robin.”

Jonathan stares at Steve with a mix of concern and fear. “No, I’m not.”

“Why were you sleeping on my couch?”

“Why were we cuddling?” Jonathan asks, acting as if it was the more pressing question of the two.

Steve collects himself off the ground. “I don’t know. I tend to sleep cuddle people.”

“You sleep cuddle people. That’s a thing?” Jonathan sits up, running a hand through his tangled hair.

“Yeah. Ask Robin, she has a lot of stories about it.” Steve fixes his shirt, it having twisted weird when he fell off the couch. “Thanks for throwing me off the couch by the way.”

Jonathan makes a sheepish face. “Sorry. You scared me when I woke up.”

Steve sits down next to him. “It’s fine. So, why were you sleeping on my couch.”

“I don’t know,” Jonathan scratches at his chin. “I remember coming over last night for some drinks, and then we got high. We must have just dozed off.”

“Together, on the couch,” Steve reasons.

“You don’t think we, you know. Did anything, right?” Jonathan asks cautiously.

Steve laughs. “No, no we’re good. Even cross faded me knows not to flirt with my friends.”

“Does sober you know not to do that?” Jonathan deadpans. Having witnessed Steve play flirt with Eddie multiple times.

Steve clears his throat, avoiding answering that. “The point is, I wouldn’t have tried anything. Not with you, so we probably just fell asleep and somehow ended up in this position.”

“What do you mean not with me?”

“Oh my god,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Now you’re offended? You don’t even like me like that.”

Jonathan scoffs. “And neither do you.”

“Exactly, which is why I wouldn’t have tried anything.”

“But if it was Eddie, would you have tried something.”

“I’m not answering that.” Steve gets up to clear away the old bottles, carrying them over to the recycling can. “If it was Argyle, would you have?” he finally counters.

Jonathan’s face breaks out in a flush that he tries to hide with a cough. “Can we agree not to mention this is anyone?” he changes the subject. “Say I just stayed over and slept on your couch, alone.”

Steve shrugs. “I guess. What, you ashamed that we cuddled on my couch or something?” Jonathan looks away. “Oh my god, you are. How fucking dare you?”

“What do you mean? This isn’t exactly normal for the two of us.” Jonathan stands.

“Sure. But you wanting to hide it means you’re ashamed. Are you ashamed that you slept with me.”

Jonathan gives him a blank expression. “Please don’t call it that.”

“I am calling it that, because it was true. The two of us, slept on the same couch, together, also while cuddling a little bit. It happens, it was an accident. We use it as a funny story and move on.”

“Or we don’t mention it at all.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Alright, under one condition. You admit that was the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while.”

Jonathan huffs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Chronic insomniac Jonathan, falling asleep for what looks to be about, oh I don’t know,” Steve looks at the clock on the oven. “Six or so hours, undisturbed. That had to have been a good night’s sleep.”

Jonathan scrunches up his face before giving in. “Fine, ok.”

Steve laughs in victory.

“It was the best night I’ve gotten in a while, you’re right.”

“For me too, actually.”

“Wait. Wasn’t Robin here last night?” Jonathan remembers.

Steve’s eyes widen. “Yeah, she was. Where is she?” He lightly taps on her door before opening it, finding an empty, unmade bed. “Shit, she’s gone.”

“So, she saw us,” Jonathan accepts defeat. “Great. Where do we think she is?”

There is suddenly a loud burst of laughter from across the hall. “Oh no,” Steve groans.

“We’re never going to live this down, are we?” Jonathan asks with a wince.

“Nope,” Steve says defeated. “We go in together?” He turns to Jonathan.

Jonathan nods. “Only way to do it at this point.”

Steve heads across the hall to Nancy and Eddie’s apartment. He nods at Jonathan before opening the door to ruckus laughter.

“There are the sleepy heads,” Robin teases on the couch. Waving her phone in the air. “Hope we didn’t wake you up,” she fake pouts.

Eddie comes out of his room with a picture in his hand, holding it close to his chest when he realized Steve and Jonathan are there. “Oh, hey guys,” he says with a knowing smile.

Nancy starts laughing. “How’d you guys sleep?” she asks innocently.

Argyle sits on the armchair with crossed arms. “Terribly, I hope.”

“I thought this would happen,” Jonathan whispers while pinching the bridge of his nose. “We slept as good as two people sharing a couch do.”

“You admitted it so fast,” Robin barks. Cackling.

“You all already know,” Steve defends. “Also, what the hell is in your hands?”

Eddie tries to cover the picture with his hands. “Nothing.”

Steve walks toward Eddie. “So, I can see it then?”

Eddie runs to the other side of the room, Steve chasing after him. They do a whole back and forth at the kitchen table, Eddie almost running into the counter when he gets away. Steve fails to catch up with him as Eddie does another lap.

Jonathan moves out of the way before he gets run into, walking over to a still upset Argyle. “It really wasn’t that great,” he lies.

“Don’t lie to me,” Argyle says, avoiding Jonathan’s gaze.

Eddie runs into his bedroom, unable to lock the door before Steve gets it open, following him in. There’s a crash, causing Nancy to perk up with concern. But when yelling and sounds of wrestling continue, she sits back on the couch, sipping her coffee.

“Fine, it was the best sleep I’ve had for a few weeks. But it doesn’t mean anything, it was an accident I promise.”

“Are you weirded out by this,” Robin whispers to Nancy.

She just shrugs. “Not really.”

“It was really an accident?” Argyle asks.

“Yes, I really didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

Argyle finally looks at him, his face softening. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“No,” Eddie yells from the bedroom. “Don’t rip it.” Followed by a “Ha, got it,” from Steve. He walks out victoriously with the picture.

“Neither of you are bleeding, right?” Nancy confirms, not really caring anymore. Steve shakes his head.

Eddie comes out of the room, leaning on his doorway, panting. “Please don’t tear it up. It was my last piece of picture paper.”

“Out of all of us, why is it you that has a printer?” Robin asks. Eddie just shrugs.

“What is it?” Jonathan asks, wincing.

Steve walks over to show him. “What you think. Why did you print it out anyway?”

“To put on the wall of many shames,” Eddie says, pointing to the wall covered in pictures of the group scattered along the back wall. Some with pictures drawn on their faces and other various situations they’ve gotten themselves into.

Steve looks at Jonathan, who just shrugs. With a roll of his eyes, Steve walks over and tapes it to the wall.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord

[hhighkey]

Taken, part 2 // Uvogin, one shot - part of hhighkey's phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: stockholm syndrome, love??, implied past kidnapping, implied references to depression, suicidal thoughts, unnamed chronic illness, medical inaccuracies, marriage, rough sex, size kink, lots of come im so sorry, manipulation, female reader Note: about 17k words, ao3 link: xxx, link to part 1

The union could never be legal, technically Uvogin didn’t exist, but that didn’t matter. Not to you when he confidently proposed with the biggest grin months after getting you back from Bates, going on a ramble about the thought of you being someone else’s wife terrified him. To him, it furthered his ownership of you, and was another way to show his utmost commitment and love. Not that kidnapping you four years ago was a total display of it or anything… That it took someone else trying to marry you for him to think of it. 

Never sure what to categorize as the happiest day of your life, for now that day took the cake. How even on one knee he was taller than you, a gorgeous ring in hand (you could thank Chrollo for that as you found out later). The idea of being someone’s wife when you were little had been like a dream, you’d always gawk at wedding stores and the dresses on display. It was more of a fantasy to look the prettiest surrounded by even prettier decor, not necessarily about the concept of ‘in life and death.’ After so long with Uvogin you understood that marriage wasn’t about a gorgeous wedding but about the vows and status it brought. Because your relationship with Uvogin was the epitome of together until death. And with each day getting harder to get out of bed, blood painting your tissues after coughing, you realize that death is on the horizon.

However, for the last few weeks Uvogin was doing his best to avoid a certain group. The term ‘bachelorette party’ became a forbidden term to me murmured around him, it’d be a night where he’d have no control. However, three people weren’t letting him off easy as you found amusement in him trapped.

“Fuck no.” Uvogin grunted, eyes tensely looking over the three female Troupe members, “She doesn't leave my sight when I’m not workin’.” 

“It’s a thing Uvo.” Machi said, “You’re not supposed to see the bride a few days leading up to the wedding, especially the night before and day of.”

“Okay so you can have her tomorrow then.” He waves them off, going to grab your arm, but Machi cuts him off stepping in front of you.

“No, you can survive two days without her.” 

“Whaddya wanna do babe?” He focused on you, pretending not to hear the pink haired woman. 

Your mouth falls open as you glance between Uvo and Machi. Your chest flutters with discomfort being in the middle of a strange face-off, where you particularly didn’t want to see Uvogin perturbed with you if you agreed with the girls. “Um..” 

“The four of us are going to do something tonight.” Pakunoda steps in, her voice level like she were talking to an overly large toddler not getting its way. 

“Like what?” 

“None of your business.” She stared at the larger man down. 

“Well Y/N’s my business so, anything she does is my business.” 

“It’s bad enough we can’t force Phinks and Feitan to let us have their girls, but let the poor bride-to-be have a bachelorette party where nothing can possibly happen. Then she’ll be your wife in two days and you can dictate the rest of her life, how about that?” Machi huffs, annoyed, “Go bother Nobu if you get bored but we’re taking her.”

“Yeah, no you ain’t.” He went to push past her, but she shot a hand up pressing on his chest. 

“What do you want to do, Y/N?” Machi asked. 

“I- Uvo I would really like to spend time with them.” With a slowly ticking clock on your life due to the state of your health, you think you should say what you want. For a second you remember, like a little flicker at the back of your brain, times spent with friends shopping, movies, gossiping about boys. Makes your heart yearn for that type of connection again. Clarity seemed to leak into the depth of your mind the sicker you got. 

He frowned at you and time seemed to stop until he nodded, “Alright.”

“That was easy, thought we’d have to steal her in the middle of the night.” Shizuku said absentmindedly, which earned her a few glares. 

Uvo fretted over you before he let you go, fingers prodding along your delicate skin as if you were the most precious treasure, as if you’d break from one touch alone. 

“Behave.” His words come across as a warning but you hear the depth to it, the worry rather than a threat. 

“I always do.” You tease, moving to hug his thick, muscular torso. A small part of you wants him to scoop you up and lock you away with him, your heart beginning to panic at the idea of separating from him. Yet your mind told you to stay strong no matter how badly you wanted to melt right into him. 

Uvogin made a few more tiny threats towards the girls before he finally left, telling you he’d be at the Base. For a moment your chest twisted in pain knowing he’d be hours away, not working. You could survive being without him due to his job, but not knowing he was free.

So you stood in your townhome with Machi, Paku and Shizuku watching you. Sure, you considered them your friends at this point, slowly considered most members of the Troupe your friends. Yet you knew their loyalty to you was really loyalty to Uvogin, the help protecting you, keeping you healthy, keeping you happy- was all for him. While you’re sure they care for you as a person enough to make small talk, you’re Uvogin’s property through and through. But this moment as you debated what to do, made you want to feel hopeful. The three of them didn’t need to do this. It made no sense for them to fight with Uvo for days to let them host something. 

How Machi’s fingers dug into your bicep as you involuntarily took steps forward, 

“Don’t.”

You didn’t know how to be without him. Your body was slowly dying, and not the dramatic bullshit of aging. So perhaps it was quickly dying. The ever exhausting fog you lived in where all you had was Uvogin to care for you. His warmth disappearing from the room settled a chill and awareness. 

Machi has her normal blank expression, but she seems pleased when you nod, “So, what are we doing tonight?”

The looks exchanged made you wary. 

The devilish upturn of Machi’s lips makes you wonder if you should go run back to Uvo. But the part of you, stuck oh so deep down, that couldn’t rebel for years was overjoyed as it wretched its way out. 

“We are going out.”

“Out..?”

“You know, what normal girls do, dress up and get drunk, flirt with men.” 

You cringe at the last part, discomfort swirling in your gut. Normality. Normal girls. You play the words over and over, hearing her words echo as a harsh reminder. But also self reflection as these three weren’t normal either. Farther from it and yourself. Perhaps you nodded, agreeing to the location they wanted, because you’d missed out on so much. Though the sour taste in your mouth lingers as you all get ready as if it were any other night- that everyone in the Troupe was all aware of the fact Uvo kidnapped you. No one told him that he should reconsider, that it’d be selfish. But did you even want that? Would you have wanted Machi or Nobu to tell him to let you go? Because the thought makes your stomach flutter with wrenching nerves you don’t want to think about, as society’s version of normal wasn’t yours. And like that, you snapped back to the image staring back at you in the mirror, the girl chronically ill yet irrevocably in love with someone they shouldn’t be.

You look- strange. Yet you’re taken aback by the beautiful girl Paku had turned you into, makeup breathing life back into your sullen state. A flash of somebody else, a younger version of you reflected, prior to knowing what you’d become and with who. It’s nostalgic almost, thinking about the minimal times you’d gone to a bar with a coworker or an old school friend, how you debated over what to wear or how to do your hair. With Uvo it was simple- he didn’t care what was on your body, or if you had makeup, he controlled everything you could and couldn’t do and it simplified everything. 

The dress fit you like a glove, pushing cleavage up and you wanted to retreat into yourself.

The night sky preys down on you. Buildings feeling like they were closing in, the openness of the town, the fresh air felt like a jail. The fact you were in the open with options was suffocating, but you walked with your arm linked with Paku’s trying to save face. Trying to push down your insecurities and thoughts of Uvo getting angry with you. He’d never have let you wear this, never had let Machi push a shot of vodka down your throat prior to leaving. Thrilling. Yet terrifying. The best way to sum up what coursed through your veins while wanting to turn around at the same time. 

The lack of alcohol the last five or so years was clear, the shot made your cheeks tinged pink and a dazed smile on your lips. You tried hard now to sway as you walked and luckily the cool breeze against you the last few minutes helped to bring you back down. The taste of it was exhilarating- dancing on the edge of inebriation and the thoughts that came with it!

“I- Can’t.” You take a step back, “Too many people- I can’t.”

“Hey- Y/N.” 

You stare at the ground as you stumble back to some steps, letting the cold pavement press against you. Stuck inside yourself as your world spun you began to ramble, 

“I- Only people I’ve been around are the Troupe. No more than 12, never more. A-And Bates kept people away from me. No- No, too many. Feels suffocating, like I can’t breathe.” You look at them with terror written across your face, “Why are you all doing this for me? Because you know I’ll die? Or because you feel bad for me? Y-You know he kidnapped me, I’m not allowed to use phones or see my old friends, my family thinks I’m dead. Yet…” 

Machi crouches down to get eye level with you, “You deserve a night of freedom and fun you should have had. You’ve given all of us more kindness than we deserve all these years. And Uvo has never been happier in all the time we’ve known him. We want to repay it back before you die as his wife.” 

“We’ll take any backlash that comes of this, with your state Uvo wouldn’t dare to upset you.” Paku said, correctly inferring the nagging at the back of your mind that this would make him furious.

“You could get away with a lot more than you realize because he’s terrified of you dying, remember that.” Machi’s intensity bores into you in a way that makes you sit straight up. Either from the fact her nen could kill you in an instant or she was trying to instill you with a backbone. 

“How much longer do you have, Y/N?” Shizuku asked. 

“I… Don’t know.” You push your fingers against your temple, trying to stifle the weight of everything on your shoulders. The sting of the vodka still in the back of your throat, your eyes focused on the heels you wore. 

“A year at most, probably eight months.” Machi replied.

“Why- Why would Uvo be scared to upset me? Hasn’t stopped him before.” You flinch at the reminder of your impending doom, no matter how much you were coming to terms with it; It was Uvogin’s karma.

“With my non-professional medical guess, who's been there since the start, is that there’s so much medicine can do if you’re giving up. Uvo doesn’t want you to want to die, selfishly wants you to hang on for as long as possible even if you’re in pain.”

Oh. It felt like you hit a wall. A harsh wave of soberness and the realization of where you were, “I wondered, why it took him so long to think of marrying me? Did Bates love me more to go through those lengths? What did I do to deserve all this?”

No one spoke. It would have been hypocritical for them to, they were just as big of monsters as Uvo. That they didn’t need you looking at the situation from an outsider’s viewpoint anymore, a discomfort settled within their guts. 

“Can we- still go to that bar?” You ask, breaking the silence you caused. 

As much as you spilled to them unprompted, knowing your words wouldn’t spur them emotionally to do anything, you were always smart not to let anyone in on the doubt you felt. On the anxiousness since Bates, on the second guessing if your emotions for Uvo were real. You knew everyone would take it wrong, that you’d been indoctrinated or rebelling. 

Because hadn’t Uvo washed away every insecurity that made you doubt your love? All this hushed proclamations whilst his cock was buried in your guts. The small touches and the fact you no longer had to lift a finger. His ever permanent seeming presence. Right? Ringing struck up in your ears forcing you to shake it off, Right. Right. No question about it as you stared at the ring on your left finger. You were excited to be his wife, to further cement your love. You had to be. 

“Of course,” Paku said, “Let’s go. You can hold onto us as much as you need.” 

Everything was a blur after they helped you up from the step, urging you to forget about your woes. The line wasn’t a long wait before you’re stepping into what felt like an alternate dimension. Thick sweat-infused-air with the smell of alcohol, bodies shoved like sardines, and strobe lights beamed around. 

Music. Music! Oh it made you sway in utter glee as the bass reverberated in the depth of your soul. You felt like a fish out of water with your fingers intertwined with Paku’s, looking around the room like an awe struck child seeing the world for the first time. 

A glass was shoved in your hand and you indulged, then again, and again. Uncaring for the strength of the liquor or the overly sweet syrups, the taste of freedom was absolutely addicting. How you’d missed alcohol in all this time, you’d beg Uvo to let you drink again. Soon your vision blurred along with your doubts. 

It was tiring always worrying. Always wondering. Being on edge. Doubting. It made you suffocate and being able to let go was pure relief. Giggle and laugh with the three Troupe members like any other friend group would. Even if they weren’t as into or as relaxed as you, watching your every move, you didn’t mind. They were doing this for you.

Any man that approached you was shooed off with a threatening glance from Machi. You were encapsulated in a perfect bubble as you bounced around sucking down another tequila infused drink. Not caring that you didn’t know any of the lyrics because this was music you’d never heard before. When was the last time you’d listened to music? You stop as you warm, bodies pressing to you, and you realize you don’t know. 

You tug your dress further down your thighs, attempting to cover more. You falter in your steps and arms are on your waist in an instant. 

“Ready?” Shizuku stares through her glasses at you.

You nod. Was it late? How long had you been inside the club dancing to your heart's content as your mind went to mush. 

The air outside was frigid compared to your body’s temperature, to the red flush along your skin and sweat beading at your hairline. Hair a frizzy mess. Mascara smeared under your eyes with the glitter from atop your lids. You hadn’t smiled so big in so long, to the point your cheeks ached as you tried to skip along the paved sidewalks, giggling like a madwoman. Pakunoda never let you get far though, listened and responded to your entertainingly slurred words and statements. And how you slowly began to wear down, to slow in your steps as you wrapped an arm around her. Contentment resonated from you. 

They’re on edge first, you not noticing the sudden change in atmosphere. That the aura around you all dropped, anger seething through it. Three forms stood past the turn. One particularly large. 

Uvogin. Flanked by Nobu and Phinks, who looked more annoyed than anything. Yet it wasn’t them that brought concern, because Uvo looked halfway ready to destroy the local buildings. 

“The fuck are you all doin’? Thinking you can take my soon to be wife out to get drunk, take ‘er somewhere I don’t fucking know.” He’s rigid, a murderous aura surrounding him. Muscles flexing as his jaw locked. Oh Uvogin was a big and terrifying man yet you looked at him like the dark, bustling city was naught. 

“Uvo!” You squeal, delighted, your core flush with warmth as you don’t notice his anger. Your thoughts are screaming for him, chanting his name like a prayer because there he is! He’s suddenly in your sights, though you aren’t sure why there’s two of him, but all you want is to squeeze him, take him for yourself. The way his thighs squeezed against the fabric of his shorts you narrowed in on, thinking about running your hands against them, prodding into the skin. Massaging and kissing and moving to his thick co- your core goes warm, such liquid goodness that you can’t fathom being away from him any longer, your daydream making you go numb.

You push off Paku and skip over to Uvo, practically throwing yourself into him. Which he caught you with ease even without prior notice. You nuzzled into his warmth, feeling his calloused fingers run along your arms. You don’t feel how he tugged down your dress as it’d ridden up, or as he checked for any marks. And you certainly didn’t feel the genuine panic, terror past jealousy of you drunk around others. The fear of you out without him. Finding someone else more interesting upon realizing how much he’d taken from you. Living a life that didn’t include him. And if you wanted said life back over what you two built on the cracked foundations only help up on your (possibly) messed up sense of reality. 

“Hi baby.” Uvo said in a fairly choked back tone; his attempt to seem relaxed towards you while he was really seething. In his mind he had to blame his fellow Spiders, that this was on them, not you. 

“Want you.” You whined softly, eyes filled with heated want that bore into him. Your palms flat on his chest feeling his erratic heart beat like it was your lifeline, “Missed you.”

You don’t remember much, not as you swayed in his grasp, vision splitting your environment from doubles to triples. The hazed joy settled into a comfortable exhaustion as your eyelids drooped, uncaring for the voices that argued around you. It doesn’t matter that it’s getting heated, not to you, this night has been better than the stars above. Topped off with Uvogin at the end. As your head falls limp, knees buckling, your last drunken thought is on the wedding. 

Feeling your body beginning to go limp as you mewled into him, Uvo picks you up cradling you into him. Your touch grounded him. Your excitement to see him might have been what stopped a possible massacre powered by his anger and fists alone. You’d missed him terribly even when you had the whole world at your fingers, and he loved that. Filled him with a sense of pride. 

“We’re going.” Uvogin nodded to Nobu and Phinks.

“Good fucking thing I didn’t let my girl come. Will have to tell Feitan ‘bout this.” Phinks grumbled under his breath.

“We’re heading back to Base.” Nobunaga tells the girls, “Come if you want, will be a tight squeeze.”

The group began their departure, silence amongst a still bustling town. Tension thick enough to cut with a knife, trepidation building within a few of the Spiders. Strange looks from some, especially at the large man carrying a girl who looked like she had a rough night out. 

Soon buildings died out. Lights limited. Roads turning to dirt, fences showcasing expansive private overgrown property. Countryside came into view with a car waiting, as Phinks pulled out the keys. For a second they all share uncomfortable glances unsure how they’ll all fit, but one person in particular had a dark cloud above her.  

“Uvogin.” Machi said dangerously low, fists clenched and Shizuku ready to grab her if needed. “How long have you had her now, four years, or is it five? She’s not going anywhere she’s in love with you, as much as she’s able. She doesn’t know how to think without you telling her what to think about, nonetheless run away anywhere. Where would she go? She relies on you for everything and more, you are her life. And she’s happy about it I guess, babbled about you all night. She doesn’t have long and you know it, don’t let her go it’ll do more harm than good but… let her say goodbyes. Proper ones to those you took her from.”  

“No.” He responded without pause, “You’ve gone soft, Machi I’m surprised. I ain’t letting her out my sight from here on out, I’ll let Chrollo know I need a fucking sabbatical or something. You’ll be lucky if I let any of you see her again.” 

“She’d be upset about that.”

“Whatever.” 

“You say that now.” She knew he was bluffing, and of course he was. 

He squeezed your sleeping frame before settling into the passenger seat of the car, keeping you tight to him. He stared at your angelic form feeling his heart squeeze, “Don’t do something like this again. And one day maybe you might understand a sliver of what I feel for her and why I do what I do.”

Uvogin couldn’t fathom missing another one of your breaths. Not a single one. Because from here on out he’d claim them all as his. 

-

This was how it was meant to be- your wedding day- you realize as you stare at your reflection. You remember the attempted one with Bates felt like walking to your doom, while this time around with Uvo? It felt like you were walking through a floralled field surrounded by a thick lavender odor, heading towards the rest of your life. It felt right. 

A white gown flows along your emaciated body that has a faint golden sheen from the joy swirling within you. Excitement coursed in your veins as you finished final touches for your hair and makeup, relying on Paku heavily for assistance. 

It’s Fall, the orange and red leaves falling delicately around you as you carefully walk along a gravel path with grass laying flat from overuse. The cooling air filled with a cinnamon spice odor so acutely that of the lengthening nights as Hallow’s Eve was around the corner. Feeling wrapped in the comfort of your favorite season, a molten liquid spread as you inched closer and closer to the altar. Arm looped in Paku’s, a smile lives etched on your face as tears prick at your eyes, swirling sentient settling within. After much convincing, Uvogin agreed to an outdoor wedding at sunset, not being able to say no to you. The Trope had done an immaculate job at setting up a cozy venue

It was a whirlwind. Walking down the aisle to Uvogin. How he looked at you with misty eyes and utter happiness, looking devilishly handsome in a tailored suit, something you never imagined seeing him in. He towered over you with a powerful aura that made you feel safe. Nothing else existed when in Uvogin’s orbit. How his hands held yours, staring so intently like you were the entire world. That you were all that existed on this plane, that all he wanted was to whisk you away as soon as vows were shared. 

You were always his, but to Uvogin this tied you to him forever. Emotionally linked your cute self to him in a way that meant everything to you, while to him the title of marriage did little to change his feelings. It made your heart swell and your face beam with love, making this worth it in his eyes.  

And it was worth it to see you walking down the aisle to him. His pupils dilated, shoulders dropping, mouth quirked up at the sight of you in a white gown. An angel. His heart soared and he stood a tad straighter beaming with pride. 

Closer. Closer to him. Time seemed to slow as you both became so consciously aware of the other, of how your hearts raced in rhythm combining. Circulating souls, winding and meshing, flowing together like pieces of twine twisting and twisting. Paku handed you off to him and he’s lit with a burning need as your smaller hands slot into his perfectly. A necessity so pure, like a starving man who’d kill for his survival, burn the world to the ground to have you. 

Nothing else mattered besides you; not Chrollo who began the ceremony, not the eyes and pleasant words of the other Spiders and their partners (who stared hopeful at their lovers). 

Only your tears of merriment as you peered up at him like he was your savior, mattered. He was your salvation. The sweet words that left your lips as you cried through your vows with breathy laughs, built him up more and more. Uvogin’s vows were strong, filled with his promises of protection and love, his thinly-veiled apologies for the past and the excitement to continue as husband and wife. 

A faint cinnamon smell wafted on the breeze, heavy earthy-spice amongst the falling leaves. The sun is setting beyond the horizon. Dimming violet skies flourished as the ceremony ended- you in Uvogin’s arms as vows sealed with a kiss. A symphony of harmonious noises blurred out your surroundings, a deafening buzzing that should have made your stomach churn and your instincts blare red. Instead it’s elation that spurred your tunnel vision as you kiss your husband passionately uncaring for anything else. 

Maybe you were too far gone from the clarity you’d had, from the questions of Uvo’s real feelings you once picked apart. All of it drowned and stamped out. Glowing delight crammed into every vein and bone, to your most miniscule of nerves. Plugged up so thick with the taste of Uvogin that you’re almost drunk off his scent alone, off the way his eyes raked along your body. The thought of him looking and touching anywhere else made you want to die. Like he was the oxygen you breathed. A fresh intake of air seeping with amber and intoxicating caramel, the taste of a maple tree’s smoky bark going up your nostrils to the tip of your head. 

Dizzied by his musk. Dizzies as your mind buzzed like a million honey bees flew about in crazed circles. Unable to wipe the grin off your face as Uvogin picks you up Bridal style to carry you off. Marital bliss is already consuming the two of you whole, Uvogin’s aura a violent red as his chest swelled with possession. 

Every inch of Uvogin; from his flexing muscles to his grueling height where his toes tingle with want. He was wounded so tight. Chords pulling and pulling, fraying as they did, and any moment they’d snap. He’d snap. Flustering begins to control him and you can see it in his eyes. The fire. The lust. All of it.

Uvogin wastes no time getting to his corridor of the Base, since everyone wanted the loud man in his own area to reprieve them of his usual antics. 

And he wasted no time placing you on the bed with a thump, your giggles music to his ears. Pure joy shimmered across your features and it had been far too long since he’d seen it. Uvo relishes in it as he helps you out of the wedding gown (tries to help while you beg for him not to rip it). Because for the rest of the night he has plans that will keep you a mess on his cock as you cry and scream for more, drunk off overstimulation, none of your innocent happiness to be found. Only your reliance on him. Your need for him. 

You’re on your back faster than you can blink, Uvogin pulling you to the edge of the bed. On his knees between your thighs you watch him with insatiable lust clouding your eyes, your senses, sending little volts of electricity up your spine as his rough fingers traced the skin of your inner thighs. How he kneaded and stoked, your mewls and constant jerking making a devious look fall over him. 

“I ain’t gonna be nice, gonna fuck my pretty little wife til’ she can’t take it. Then I’m gonna keep going.” His breaths fans along your clothed cunt, your liquids beginning to soak through the white fabric. 

You nod, feeling the numb tingle of anticipation wash over your body. Your mind as if it hung out to dry, lust dulling your senses. 

The sudden onslaught of his tongue has you seeing stars. He knows exactly how to tease your entrance to make you squirm and gasp, knows how you like how he oscillates his long tongue inside you to pull out an orgasm. Stroking your inner thighs so playfully and feather like, 

“Uvo- pl-please!” You beg, fingers yanking at his scalp. You need him like you need oxygen to breathe. Your senses are so dull, the air smelling thick of your juices and sex, a tangy musk that is sweet because it’s because of your love for him that you feel this way.

“Need somethin’?” The vibrations of his deep voice sent shivers up your spine, your mind spinning in lust as with a flick of his tongue, the way it then drags along your folds brings you back to your high. 

Sobbing for him as you snap, squirt dribbles and he laps it up, sucking your engorged clit to make you shake. To make you tremble and jerk and try to push his face away as slurping noises fill the room. 

“Ne-ed you!” You sob, “In me!” Your head is spinning and all you can think about is having his cock stretching you out. 

He relinquishes with a final kiss above your clit, pulling to strip himself of his clothes.

Uvogin is more than aware of the size difference between you two, you’re so small beneath him, just so cute laying in awe at his naked hulking body as his hand goes to stroke his godly length. You’re so tiny, so breakable and while he is always as careful as a man like him can muster, right now all he wants to do fragment you into a thousand little pieces. 

“You’re so damn tiny, wife.” Blood rushes to his cock, hardening it even more as the tip leaks precum swollen and red. The way his hand engulfs parts of your leg as he gropes makes him burn and he knows he can’t hold back much longer. 

“You want this fat cock in your tight cunt? You wanna be nice and full, all stretched out? Gonna take all I give you?” 

“God yes, Uvo.” You keen, “Please, fill me.”

“Who do ya belong to, wife?” His eyes darken as he lines his cockhead up to your dripping entrance. 

You squirm and moan lewdly, unable to focus as pleasure grinds at your core, “Y-You Uvo! My husband, I’m yours- your wife- yours.” You babble as his swollen tip continues to tease you. 

“Cunt is mine.” He thrusts in fully, a silent scream escapes you as your eyes roll back. Uvogin’s cock pulses and he groans in pleasure, muscled legs trembling as his nerves are shot full of an addictive high from your body, “Tits are mine.” He engulfs one of your breasts in his hand, thumb rubbing over a pebbled nipple. “Whole damn body is mine. Your fucking mind is mine, I own you.” His thrusts turn erratic, slapping skin reverberates in the room as your little pussy takes his ginormous size and violent force behind each fuck against your cervix.

Already a mess, you’re easy to move, easy to morph as Uvo adjusts you on the bed. Angle was just right, your ankles held down at your head and his hips just so to drive into you so deep you won’t be able to walk. Your orgasm blossoms as squirt juts from your hole as Uvogin’s long cock spreads you too wide and too deep, the pain electric and overwhelming but your hips shake. 

“You’re so pretty baby, so damn good takin’ me like this.” He grunts, throwing his head back as he continues to fuck into you, his balls slapping against your ass. “I love ya, love how you squeeze me. You want my cum this bad? I’ll give it to you, get you nice and full from it. Take me deeper now, you can do it, yeah?” 

His vulgar words are disoriented in your ears but they make you feel obscene, make you smile sordidly with tears in your eyes, and nod like your life depended on it. 

You’re lost in his wicked aura. Your wedding night lived up to all you would have hoped for it, as your dress lay discarded and you were folded in different positions as your husband drove the both of you to pleasured highs again and again. Heavy spurts of come coated your insides, too much so that it trickled out and painted your thighs, painted the sheets. Again and again he plugged you with his cock and filled you with heavy grunts, letting you feel the hot come shooting out from him for far too long, far too much that you could almost taste it in your throat. He hit every sensitive spot you loved that made you feel mushy and braindead, just a reliant little thing on him. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You could barely hold your head up or moan how much you loved him and his cock. Your eyelids grew heavier, while your body shook from the continued rapture. 

Uvogin kissed you so lovingly, so much so that it hid his true malicious intents you couldn’t understand in your fucked out state, “I got you baby, gonna let me use you?”

You nod. Smile like a drunken idiot, and go lax. You feel every thrust, every pulse and curve of his cock, each slap against your ass, each kiss, lick, grope along every open inch of skin. You knew this was heaven. Heaven as he pushed you to your chest, hiking back your ass and slamming in. Your poor cunt quivered, gaping wide from his girth as his come leaked out, lower tummy inflated and Uvogin watched you with a glint in his eyes, and he couldn’t keep his emotions in. He let out a monstrous roar, one the brute was known for, and he let you take every inch of him uncaring if you broke or said it was too much. But you took it. You always did. Even if your gummy walls tried to force him out, tried to tighten up too much but he’d always push past the defenses to claim you and feel your clamping cunt as it came, as it squirted. And god as he’d toy with your aching clit he’d see you spasm even in your passed out state.

His fingers gripped your hips, they’d leave bruises he’d stare at proudly tomorrow. And he knows more marks will follow, he needs to mark you, to show anyone who you belonged to on all open parts of your skin. Your eyelids were finally permanently closed at this point, once done-up hair a mess, makeup all smeared. Tiny mewls all that escaped your parted lips. Yet your pussy still squeezed him like a vice, milking him for all it was worth begging for more, “Still so fucking needy for me aren’t ya? Don’t worry I’ll fill you all night till I got nothing left, you know your husband will always take care of you.”

-

Uvogin could never help himself when it came to you from the second he laid eyes upon you. His feelings are too intense and overpowering of his superb fortitude, years of destruction and rigidness in his work. And it took awhile the first few months before he took you because he adored who you were, and did not want you to become a shallow version of yourself. But he always knew it was his job to protect you as your friend turned captor, turned partner, turned husband. 

What type of man was he if he couldn’t keep his love safe? He’d spent years diligently watching over you, even going as far as to check your body for harm. Make sure you ate well, slept enough, and had a good amount of things to keep you mentally entertained. He knew you like the back of his hand and it was why he struggled from the start when you couldn’t get healthy. But with his mind set on it, it would happen, he was sure. 

Uvogin wasn’t always suited for tough conversations when it came to you, overall happy with everything. Never complaining about not being able to contact anyone outside the Troupe or go outside without him or an escort. You stopped going stir crazy after accepting your feelings for home were true all those years ago, loving his clingy touches and loud humor. 

But as the weeks went on after the wedding, your state got worse. And so did his helplessness, the gut feeling that he was still not doing enough. His optimism wore on himself as much as it did you. 

Everything about you makes his heart race at such a speed he wonders if one day you’ll give him a heart attack. Simply based on his overly obsessive actions and thoughts, his every waking being is all for you. 

“Uvo, stop it.” You swat at his large hand that held a protein bar, “I’ll just throw it up. Don’t wanna.”

So maybe it was all coming to head after almost two years. Exasperation with the situation that turned into taking it out on the other. More or less you wanted a break from the pity, the treating you like a little porcelain doll by your lover. 

“You gotta eat, babe. Can’t survive off that baby food shit.” He sighed referencing the nasty apple sauces, ground up food into weird shakes that made him gag. 

“Better than nothing.” You murmur, staring aimlessly at the blankets you sat under.

Uvogin ran a hand through his hair, feeling disgruntled by your frail form not even looking at him. He moved towards the bathroom, dropping the bar in the trash. He wants to scoop you up, pin your chest to the mattress to fuck into you to hear you chant his name. 

He doesn’t mean to snap at you. But god he can’t fucking stand to watch what you’re doing, because he’s not stupid. He missed his girl, her smiles and snark, how she’d be equally all over him as he was towards her. His best friend and lover wrapped up in one. While he wasn’t cruel, swore if you were in pain then so was he, but he was tired of this push and pull. 

“You’re giving up.” His words come out harsher than he intended, but the bitterness bubbling up his throat spurred them on.

“Stop.” 

You wipe at your eyes because of the sudden tear that fell down your cheek. His words feel like a painful stab to the gut. 

“I can’t- I won’t watch you die, Y/N. Not even thinking about what this is doing to me. I can’t be without you.”

Anger filled you but you couldn’t breathe, dry heaving through your sudden sobs that hit you like an avalanche, “Doing to you? I’m the one dying, Uvogin. I’m the one in pain every day and every breath.”

He flinched at the usage of his full name. 

“Let me die, please it hurts so bad and I have fought. Fought for you, for us but I’m so tired. You need to let me go so you can move on with your life rather than be stuck as my caretaker.” Desperation laces your words, all you want is for him to hold you in his arms. Not for him to stand by the door with a faraway look. The sorrow on his features and the regret swirling in his eyes. You know he’s hurting, but this is destroying you.

“Is that what you think?” His fists clench, muscles going taut as they strain against his shirt, “That you’re a burden? That I’m better off without you? I take care of you because I love you, not out of some stupid fucking caretaker duty I’m obligated to.” 

“But aren’t you? You are the one who kidnapped me, you have to care for me or throw me to the curb if I’m not fulfilling my duties.” You spat, and you don’t regret the words as they slap him in the face making it twist in a dark glare. 

His brows pinched together, lips purse as he exhaled jadedly. The fierce mocking chuckle spewing out made your blood run cold, “We going there?”

“Maybe we should. We never have properly, always joking about it because it worked out for us. I downplayed what you did because you always respected me, kept me as me. Didn’t force me to fuck you, or be with you. And we always had amazing rapport even before that.” The aggravation of talking to him like he was a non-receptive 8ft plus wall made you want to rip your hair out. Not a flash of any emotions on his face leaving you to reel and second guess. 

“What’s the point of this babe? Gonna start throwin’ shit at me again? Begging me to let you go?”

“No!” You sit up straight, rolling your shoulders back feeling frustration and the sudden want to rip your hair out, “I love you. Only way I’ll ever want to leave is if you no longer feel the same, or if you hurt me. But jesus Uvogin, put yourself in my shoes even with your limited fucking ability to empathise. Because sometimes I wonder if you love me the way I love you, or if I have fucking stockholm syndrome!”

“What do you want me to say?” 

“The truth, how you really feel.” You press, almost as if you wanted him to snap. You’re tired of half truths, of him dumbing everything down like you’re a child.

“The truth?” His eyes narrowed as his chest thumped, felt like his insides were turning inside out in absolute agony, “Truth is I feel fuckin’ useless and you no longer care about living. You are leaving me, you’ll be dead. And now I’m hearin’ you think your feelings are fake? What a fucking time this is.”

“How am I supposed to not die, Uvogin? Tell me. I sleep all day, take handfuls of pills, IV for fluids. My body is rejecting it all and you don’t care that I’m in pain, you care more about having me around so you can get off.”

An explosion of red aura escapes him with a growl, his fist coming down on the closest piece of furniture. You gasp, heavy sobs returning as you recoil in ear. Realizing what he’d done, he tried to approach you, but you cried for him to stay away. Fear. Dizzied confusion written on you and Uvogin doesn’t know how to take it away. Not even the first few months after taking you, had you looked at him like that. And it made him want to die. 

“Y/N, M’sorry. Fuck. You’re my life, I love you. You aren’t some fucktoy to me, you’re the reason I breathe. And I’m so scared of the day I gotta live without you. It’s no excuse, but please. Would never hurt you, you’ve gotta know that right?”

You stare at him. Blank. Fingers gripping the blankets you used as a shield until your  knuckles turned white. Wet streaks falling down your face, off your jaw staining the fabric. 

“By begging me to stay alive… You are hurting me.” You whisper, but he can hear. 

“Fine,” He growls needing to leave your presence before he lashed out more, “Then you got my fucking permission to die, wife. I’m done.” 

He spares you no other glance as the door slammed behind him. You’re left trying to pick up the pieces, pick apart his words. Unable to hold back the flood of sorrow that seeped out, hysterical, airy cries as you heave. Pathetically quivering as you hugged yourself, slowly rocking back and forth atop the bed as it sets in. You think he means he’s done, he doesn’t want you, this is him washing his hands of you and your fate. 

You call for him, his name falling onto nothing, sniveling and blubbering like a mess. The air suffocates you, thick as it wrung you out. Dull skin prickling like a thousand needles inserting within you. Searing pain behind your brows and temples as it felt like your head was being crushed as your eyes went puffy and red.

Stuck in limbo staring at the wall. For months you’d been living under pitying glances, careful words, and locked up in an ivory tower of protection against the world. Even yourself. 

Your actions not your own as you move like a woman possessed, a ghost haunting the halls of its resting place. How you dressed for the colder weather outside the Base, discarding the disaster of splintered wood Uvogin left during his outburst. You moved with whimsical intent and glazed over eyes. In a trance as you padded along the eerily quiet halls then the main room, not a Spider in sight. Not that they could have stopped you, or even noticed as Uvogin’s screaming caused them to scatter. Pity as they had no choice but to listen as his deep voice echoed through every cranny spewing hurtful words.

Nobody stopped you as you opened the door to the outside. As you stand in the doorway contemplating stepping out, you realize it’s the first time you’ve been able to go somewhere without permission, with your own autonomy. With that you leave, crossing an invisible boundary that leaves you feeling lighter.

You walk, slow, stumbling as your lungs struggle to adapt. 

Unable to get far, you collapse unto a patch of grass, overlooking an expansive patch of trees overgrown with weeds and vines. 

On replay in your mind is the fight you’d just had with Uvogin, how his words sliced you deep. How he struggled with your pain, and how you spent too much time keeping your thoughts from him to ease his own. A selfish feat. But they were fearful, self deprecating thoughts that plagued you day in and out. The heaviness of accepting an eventual death that could be at any turn. The realization of your complacency and how the doubt Bates’s kidnapping of you set a spiraling turn of events. That you doubted your love feeling anxiety over his touch or telling him those three words- and how it made you selfish. More than ever. That you now saw Uvogin’s actions in the evil, manipulative light they were, and you did not care. Not anymore. His charismatic, strong nature over you was irrevocably his property, his wife, and this would have happened kidnapping or not. 

The cold, you feel yourself becoming one with it as your shallow breaths exhale fog around you. Your body feels numb as your pulse slows at an alarming pace. It’s comforting, serenely quiet before a high pitched noise sounds in your ears. The scenery is beautiful, you admire it as your eyelids droop, this was a good place to pass. To rest. The sky so blue, the sun high and bright, alluding to a perfect Summer day yet you shiver from the almost freezing temperature. 

You hear footsteps approaching and you hope it’s Uvo, that he’d get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, that he’d make it up to you. But it’s not and you almost laugh, maybe he really did mean he was done with you. 

“Chrollo?” You jolted back to reality at the sight of the Phantom Troupe leader, at first having thought the figure was imaginary. In all these years you never conversed much, Uvogin having said the passing of his wife permanently altered him. 

“Y/N, dear.” His tone is gentle. He approaches and you see the heavy coat and blanket he carries.

“Don’t.” You stammer, “I’ve made my choice, I ask you to respect it. Just make sure he’s okay once I die. I used to think he deserved it after everything, after taking me but- god,” You let out an insane sounding laugh, “I don’t want to leave him, but I can’t live like this. Coughing up my lungs, blood, always tired, unable to eat. My body is giving out on me.”

“When I lost her, I thought my life was ending.” Chrollo laments, closing in on you to wrap you in the warm fabric. He takes a seat beside you, “It did. I’m forever stuck, unable to move on. And truly? I am okay with it. But there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for any members of the Troupe so they never have to experience the magnitude of losing your wife.”

“I understand but-”

“I want you to tell me what it is you truly want. If you could have one wish.”

You respond instantly, not needing to think of your answer, “To be healthy and live the rest of my life with Uvo.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I believe you.” Chrollo sighed, “I wanted to respect your wishes but I had a feeling you were accepting the path of a martyr as all roads appeared exhausted. I found someone, a skilled doctor from another continent who has treated and helped patients with symptoms similar to or more extreme than yours. He likes the challenges of strange chronic illnesses.”

You straighten, an invisible weight feeling like it’d been lifted off of you. Your mind is short circuiting however, as if you’d been unplugged. You’d had to come to terms with your impending doom after a multitude of medical avenues were taken at no expense. But Chrollo’s outreach must have been intense, it must have taken ages to discover if you’re only now hearing of it. 

Hope rushed into you. A re-ignited fire burning bright within, making the idea of living another day plausible. Something you wanted. 

“Does Uvo know? Where is he? He left me I… Thought he was done. That he didn’t want me-”

“I sent Feitan to find him, I wanted to talk to you first. The doctor is already on his way. I did not want to waste time if you agreed. And if you truly wanted to rest for eternity, I’d have sent him back.”

“How.. But the Troupe- please don’t kill him after.”

“No, it would be a waste. He is miniscule as a threat to us, I actually thought him to be dead all these years. I knew him briefly in Meteor City, he would come to treat the children.”

“Ah.” Knowing the doctor wouldn’t die for helping you released you from any possible qualms you’d have had, “Chrollo?”

“Yes?”

“I appreciate it, and I apologize for making you come out here.”

“Do not. Uvogin should be the one apologizing to you.” Chrollo stands with ease, then helps you stand, “I wouldn’t let him off easy, while we all deal with things in our own way, he’d have always regret walking out on you if it were the final time. We should never take time with our loved ones for granted. I am only glad I could find a possible solution for you.”

You’re swelling with appreciation, genuine happiness that you don’t think you’ve felt since the wedding. And before that? Prior to your initial pneumonia diagnosis almost 18 months ago. And definitely prior to Bates. With the burst of joy through your veins you want to throw your arms around Chrollo and thank him profusely some more, but that’s not something you’re physically capable of. Your legs can hardly hold you upwards as you two walk, him having to keep a firm grasp on your waist and arm in case. Slowly the path turned into the walkway for the Troupe’s base, the walking time taking practically double what it should have. But that’s okay, you’re too filled with ambition dreaming about having a normal functioning body once more even if Uvogin still wants to be done with you. 

Your teeth chatter, tips of your extremities a bright red from the chill. Unable to stop shaking even from the sudden heat inside. 

Chrollo helped you into your bed in Uvogin’s room, telling you he’ll have Machi swing by. The warmth of the room and the mound of blankets covering you, it’s suddenly easier to sleep than ever. For now you let yourself dream about good health, about treatments working, but still worry scraped the back of your mind when it came to your husband. Burning deep in your gut at the thought of your vows meaning nothing. As you begin to drift off–  

You hear a deep voice yelling laced with panic. Uvogin sounded ready to rage, to throw furniture across the room, you could picture the anger radiating from him through his tone. Because his words are hazy to you, and even as the door bursts open you’re unable to look. The feeling of large hands combing along your cool skin was the last thing you felt before falling into darkness. 

Uvogin shudders in relief as he watches your chest rise then fall. Your wind stained cheeks still pink as his thumb dragged along your face. He’s coming down from an intense adrenaline fueled high, his heart hammering in his chest ready to burst. How angry he’d been as Nobunaga followed hot on his trail attempting to put reason into him. And how Feitan appeared out of thin air with a look mixed with pity and contempt, saying Chrollo needed him for an emergency. How his stomach dropped filled with nauseating butterflies as his mind jumped to you, that him storming out left you vulnerable. That you fucking died somehow, as he’d let you think he was done. His selfishness towards his lack of control wracked him with guilt as he raced back to the Base. 

But instead Chrollo awaited him with a stern lecture even as he tried to push back yelling for you, body screaming for you to be against him. Yet Chrollo sat there amused over his idea to let Uvogin’s thoughts run rampant to a worse case scenario, sickeningly wanting him to feel the sorrow, the agony of losing you to get it through his thick head this wasn’t all about him. Then the leader informed him of the doctor on his way, giving one final effort to help you. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Uvogin repeated as he pressed wet kisses to your skin, inhaling your scent like it was his own personal drug. His addiction to your frame in his as the bed creaked when he joined you under the blankets. 

How tiny you are compared to his monstrous form, precious and fragile as you subconsciously nuzzled into his warmth even in a half conscious slumber. He can feel all the cold that rattled you melt from your body due to his own heat, how you no longer shuddered as you fell further limp with relaxation. Little mewls escaping your lips. The jerk reaction of your leg twitching as you murmured something under your breath. Not quite actual words but always made his lips quirk. 

“Uvo?” You exhale with a smacking of your lips, a whimper as you attempt to shift. Arms and legs trembling as you stretch out waking from your quick douse of sleep, “You’re back?” 

Your delicate lashes flutter as you languidly look about. 

“Do… You still want me?” 

Oh his heart shattered from your frail words as you rubbed at your eyes, eyes glittering from the wetness in your lash line. Your bottom lip trembling that all Uvogin can do to show you his devotion is press a chaste kiss to you. 

“Always.” He grunted before deepening his lips against yours with force, slipping his tongue inside your mouth to taste and to claim. 

You gripped his bicep, head spinning from the suddenness of his stealing your breath. Now suffocating in his warmth, his scent, and his touch as you lose yourself in the pleasure running down your spine. Emotions all over. Anger at him for leaving, for yelling. Relief he’d come back. His hands roam underneath your clothes to lay ownership over your body, a heavy groan vibrating into you as he tugged you closer. If it were even possible. He’d tie you to him if he could, keep you glued to him, be inside you to be molded as one. 

As you become more aware, your feelings of betrayal towards him coming back, you push on his pectorals. And when he doesn’t budge you push again harder, words laced with venom shooting from your mouth. 

“I want you off me.”

He looked like a kicked puppy, surprised as he pulled away. Someone so big with his bulking muscles looked like he wanted to shrivel up before he regained his senses, then attempted to entrap you in his arms.

“You don’t get to crawl into bed and kiss me after what you said. Would you have come back? Would you be this happy if Chrollo didn’t tell you about the doctor?”

“Baby.” He murmured miffed as you squirmed from his grasp, “I-”

“He found me outside, I was so cold and lost, going to just die there.” Uvogin’s face twists to something unreadable and devastating, but you continue, “He asked me what I wanted. If I would accept help from one last doctor, it would be okay if I said no. Uvo I’ve had to come to terms with all of this on my own, you’ve always been so convinced it would be okay. But don’t you understand we were out of options? We have limited time, all I wanted was to rest, to enjoy whatever I had left with you. Yet you storm off. I know it’s been taxing for you but I have tried so hard to stay alive.”

You don’t want to cry, you don’t want him to see you suffer more. You get up from the bed, seeing how his arm twinged as he held himself back from grabbing you, Uvogin was smart enough to understand times you needed autonomy to stick it in your head that you had a semblance of control.

“And I am going to do whatever it is this doctor wants to try, but if it doesn’t work you need to accept that I’m letting fate have its turn with me.” 

It felt like an eternity as you and Uvogin stared into the depths of the others eyes, watching every movement the large man could make. The apprehension in his body language as the gears turned in his head put you on edge. For he was stubborn. 

“Alright.”

Alright. He says it like it’s a defeat but offers a faint smile to follow it up. You sigh from the comfort it brought you, physically allowing your shoulders to relax from where you stood. The bed served as a thick barrier between you physically, but the expanse there mentally was like a cavern. 

“Uvo.” You sniffled, lips quivering as the necessity for him brought you to tears. But you couldn’t, wouldn’t as you remembered his words from earlier.

“C’mere baby.” 

“No.” 

He says nothing though you have ideas what he’s debating doing. 

“I can’t. Not after what you said. How willing you were to tell me to die, then walk away.”

From words spoken out of quick anger, Uvogin watched as the relationship cultivated between you two seemingly came crashing down. A thread wound so tight, pulling and pulling for months, finally snapped. And he knows he needs to patch it back up as quickly as possible, get you back into his orbit. 

He groans into his hands, pushing against his cheeks running his fingers against his skin down to his jaw, eyes moist. An incredulous look flashed across his face as his mouth opened then closed, then opened back up to speak but with no words to follow. 

A standstill, you wipe at your tears, “I think we need some time apart.”

“No. Absolutely not, you’re out your fuckin’ mind if you think I’m leaving your side.” From confusion to immediate discontent, his chest overflowing with annoyance at your stupidity thinking he’d give you space.

“But you did. Earlier.”

Uvogin had nothing to retort back for once as his brows pinched together. His thick fingers flexed as he focused on containing his growing temper he felt towards himself, the divide he put between you two. 

“And I fucked up. Got no excuse for my behavior besides I was pissed, I know I’m big and breaking shit around you isn’t the answer. Walking away won’t fix it but I had to leave before I did anything I’d regret. Couldn’t scare you further or risk hurting you. The thought of me being the reason you’re ever hurt makes me fucking ill, I’d rather break every bone in my body. I love you, and I’ll prove it to you every single day over and over if I gotta. But I’m not giving you space.”

It’s the most genuine apology that’s ever left his lips, has you warm inside and brain flitting to accept immediately. You see and hear the regret, it pulls at your heart making your stomach flutter with butterflies. He knew exactly what you needed to hear but this time around he said nothing he didn’t mean in an attempt to sway you back into his arms. He was a truthful, passionate man overall, only straying when absolutely necessary in keeping you happy with him. And he sees you perk up. Knows he’s got you.

“I’ll hold you to that.” It’s hard to hide the twinkle in your eyes, the involuntary upturn of your lips, or your reddened face because of him. How you know you’re giving in to him too easily and that you should make him work for it more. Get on his knees and beg, maybe do a few things while down there too. 

Because against better judgment you’re across the room and straddling the expanse of his large hips. Your lips desperately pressing into his uncaring for the way your lungs throbbed within you, not until you’re pulling back. A coughing fit comes over you, heavy and mucus filled, from the depths of you making you shudder. Uvogin holds you, petting your back as you hack against his chest. Burning. You felt so hot it was almost unbearable as the intake of any air was torturous for your frail body. 

He sighed into your hair, listening to your erratic pulse, “My sweetest girl. I got you. No matter what happens with this doctor, I’m here.” 

And you believe him, whether or not out of necessity. It doesn’t really matter anymore. 

You fall into a strange cycle with him the following days. Uvogin becomes your ever present, ever hovering gigantic shadow that moved precisely when you did. His intense gaze feels like a permanent fixture upon you, watching, assessing every move you made. From the food you consumed so that it was up to his standards of health, to taking over shaving your legs, to not letting a single person touch you besides himself… It brings you back to the first year you spent with him before the relationship blossomed, to how robotically he controlled your life. 

Pieces of you wanted to brush him off, punish him as exasperation boiled within you. Unable to push his hands away without a glare. His gigantic form pressing against you constantly.

But this was different, you had to believe so. He was scared to lose you. Bad enough you wandered outside with him knowing because he stormed off, almost leaving you to freeze to death. So day in and day out you're met with an onslaught of kisses and tender touches along with his over-protective barrage. In your soul you feel it though, the light at the end of the tunnel slowly approaching. Just what that light was- you weren’t certain.

-

Two weeks later on the dot does Chrollo arrive with the mysterious doctor in tow. You’re nervous sitting atop the table in the small infirmary in the Troupe’s basement. You remember the medicinal scent from the one other time you’d been down here and it makes you squirm, palms sweating as you fiddle with Uvogin’s fingers. . 

Uvogin had pulled a chair to be beside you, a large hand engulfing one of your own as the doctor carefully looked you over, taking vitals, and a few vials of blood. You’d pouted at the sight of the needles, begging Uvo for some help which only brought a wicked grin to his face. You knew he liked how hard you’d squeezed him as blood was drawn, making a face at the nauseous feeling it brought. He’s trying so hard to keep your spirits up and you daresay it’s working?

Things had been strange, more tense in some ways, Uvogin seemingly walking on eggshells around you. Scared to upset you. Overly doting if that were even possible for the clingy man who would choose to spend time with you over Troupe business. (Which took you far too long to realize how serious he was the first time he told you that.)

“I’m going to run these tests I need real quick. I need to be able to count out a few possibilities to confirm what I think our path is. My nen will speed up the process so sit tight.” The doctor, who was a short man with an overgrown beard, said offering a kind smile. 

“Thank you.” You take a sharp breath in and glance at Uvo. The door clicked close, leaving the two of you to sit in heavy silence.

You watched him slowly kiss your knuckles one at a time, expelling the unruly feelings of obsessive jealousy coursing through him. His overly possessive nature regardless of your health, hated the doctor’s hands on you. Was grounding himself as his lips dragged along your skin, “Feeling okay?” 

“Nervous. Hated describing everything I’ve dealt with, though I know he needed to hear it.” You sighed. The insurmountable effort to get out of bed each day was wearing you down, at this point you’re surprised you’re able to at all. Mornings begin with faint cries and whimpers as Uvo helps you up. Then you stay placated in the same spots, droning away at whatever is shoved in front of you. And night time was when your bones could relax and mind could have its reprieve from the constant synapses shooting aching pain through you. 

You didn’t speak much as butterflies spurred from Uvogin’s invasive touching, continuing to claim parts of you as his own as you wait. But there was a twisting past the sparks he made you feel, one dreadful and sickening. A wandering mind down alleyways of deceit telling yourself there’d be no magical cure or good news; that you’d spend your remaining time wasting away in suffering. 

Eventually the door creaked open and the doctor strode in, head stuck in a clipboard, “Alright.”

You’re sitting straight, electricity shooting through your spine. Uvo tenses next to you, his grip on your thigh tightening ever so slightly.

The diagnosis was in the air of what you’d expected. Pneumonia from the time before Bates kidnapped you never properly healed. It expanded into more. Your respiratory tract was giving up and the rest  of your body did too. It wouldn’t be long before you’d begin coughing up blood per the doctor, the statement shaking you to your core.

“I see antibiotics have not done much, which are always the first line of defense. Which I believe a more aggressive track should be taken.” 

“And what is that?” Uvogin asked in a low voice, fringing on threatening. 

“I would like to put you into a medical nen induced coma.” 

“No.” 

“Uvo.” You grab his wrist as a silent plea, “He’d know better than us on treatment.” 

Your insistence has Uvogin backing down, as in his body physically relaxing. His muscles twitch in the arm you grasp. 

“I have seen and treated 3 cases of hemoptysis or pneumonia successfully this way. And have studied cases of past colleagues too. We are in the unique situation where my nen would be the driving factor rather than what a normal hospital would use. Your body would be given complete rest, no need to fight each day to walk or eat, or even rest. It would give your white blood cells the ability to fight this intense infection. This has turned a lung infection into something chronic, this is the only route that makes sense to take.”

“How long will the coma be for?” You race to articulate your swarming thoughts. They’re all jumbled due to your lack of medical understanding and the fear seeping in. But between you and Uvo, you need to be calm so he is. Because when it came to you, any sense went out the window. 

“Two weeks. But I would be able to tell from test results if you’d need longer. Then afterwards for 3 months there’d be a strict regimen of pills.”

You take a deep breath in, “And if this doesn’t work?”

The doctor gives you a solemn look, which you understand, “Then we’d want to make you comfortable.” 

It was a scary thought. Going to sleep and not waking up one day. One that you’d rather prefer than a malicious death, like torture at the hands of Feitan. While you feel confidence in this doctor, in that you’d wake up from the nen coma, it’s what comes after that makes bile churn in your gut. 

The doctor wants to put you into the coma pronto. 

Uvogin wants to argue, you see the fire in his eyes, the desperation on his face. The silent anger vibrates in him as he wants to scoop you, his wife, up and leave. His silent pent up feelings of failing you coming to the surface. 

He holds your hand as your body goes limp. The pink glow of the doctor’s nen cocooning you inside, not allowing Uvogin to touch you. He hates it. 

The days go painfully slow. 

An hour felt like twenty. 

The first week felt like a year. 

Uvogin was more combative than normal, aggressive with his words when he used them. Abnormally quiet but everyone knew to steer clear of him. Leaving your side was an absolute no-go for the large man, needing to watch every delicate breath to prove to himself you’re still breathing. 

If someone like Uvogin was truly capable of true self reflection- he probably would have during this time. Sure, his mind occasionally filled him with doubt, if his life choices were some fateful cause of your doom. Much like his thoughts had when Bates had you, at least this time he had his eyes on you. 

When the second week finally came to an end and the doctor confirmed it was safe for you to be woken up, that your vitals showed drastic improvement, Uvogin was elated. 

How endearing it was as you whined, eyes fluttering as you struggled to wake. Limbs heavy as you reach in the air through blurry vision, attempting to claw at your face. How you mewled for him relishing in his suffocating touch, fueling his protective instincts more than ever. 

You properly wake to lips against your own, stealing your breath before moving to your jaw. Through heavy eyelids you can make out the side of Uvo’s head, then threading a hand through his wild locks. You can feel his burning lips kissing, the nipping down your neck as he sucks the delicate skin between his teeth to leave marks. A fast sigh of pain leaves your lips as a jolt inside you grounds you to your surroundings. 

“Uvo?” You croak, voice betraying you as it doesn’t sound like your own. Throat dry and hoarse, it hurts to speak so you don’t. 

He doesn’t respond to you right away, Uvogin groping and squeezing at your skin. Swirling heat envelopes your weary limbs, sweat pooling along your hairline as your core goes flush with molten liquid. Sleep still dragged on your eyelids. You could barely move your own legs from the exhaustion and traces of medical nen pricking along you.  

Your legs move, Uvogin spreading your thighs wide. The bed creaks as his weight presses on it. His body exudes searing heat. Burning you as you squirm and mewl about the heavy fog weighing down on you. Chest heavy, heart hammering so much that you hear the blood pounding in your ears as you swallow in anticipation. 

The feeling of your nightgown hiking makes you gasp. Your panties peeled off your form felt like jabs of knives down your numbly tingling skin. 

Uvogin’s thick cockhead prods at your folds, “Fuckin’ hell your soaked. Thinkin’ of me in your dreams?” He chuckled cruelly. 

You whimper as a moistness between your legs fill you with shame, his words only prodding it further. 

Mind lit in static fire, blue and orange with smoke paralyzing your brain as your hips jerk to meet his involuntarily. Body blistering from head to toe, confusing lust settled in you as you feel a pained stretch through your smoky mind. 

“Fuck you’re tight.” Uvogin grunted as he sank his cock further. 

He’s splitting you apart. You cry out, a ghastly moan as your walls spasm around the large length forcing its way in. Dazed and overwhelmed. Impossibly full before you could properly register you were even alive. That you’d been in a coma for two weeks. That now, your poor cunt was shoved full of cock and your stomach expanded as Uvogin grunted with each vicious inch he pushed further in. Fingers seized at his biceps nails drawing blood, toes curled as your legs trembled with feathery pleasure whilst all you felt was unnatural. 

You’re being pushed and pulled every which way, caught in a dangerous undercurrent that shows no reprieve to let you swim upwards. Extraordinary pleasure blossoms within you, petal by petal unfolding and its bright colors glimmering in ecstasy. Ecstasy that choked you up to where you couldn’t breathe as tears brimmed at your eyes, desperately trying to gain senses.

Uvogin began to fuck into you slow, uncaring for the lack of prep, primarily driven by his insatiable want for you. Driven by the fear over your health and his lack of control. That shoving his cock into you to feel your poor gummy walls squeeze the life out of him, settled his churning emotions. That the incessant burn of anxiety in his chest was being snuffed out, and all because the electric pleasure of being one with you brought him. 

“Uvo!” You cry so sweetly for him, all hoarse and face filled with confusion. He was your lifeline in the storm. A storm he brought upon you. One that lifted you and dropped you as his cock hit your most sensitive spots, nestling up against your cervix only to pull out and thrust in again. 

Your lust filled whimpers only grow as Uvogin manhandled your thighs further apart, resting them on his biceps as he towered over you. His thick muscles corded with each push to the hilt of his hips flush to yours. Smacking of skin filled the dry air, your pain still twisting with rapture as his name repeats off your tongue. 

He leans to capture your lips, an inhuman-like groan from the back of his throat tickles your ears. It was one of desperation, higher pitched and letting you see him with shields down. His gigantic body practically trembles upon you as he picks the pace up, pistoning his hard cock over and over, and over. Mind blurring. Squirt dripples from your abused hole as you reach your high through a giant wave of pleasure. 

“Missed you.” Is all he moans. Again. And again.

Your arms move around his neck, legs attempting to wrap around his expansive waist. You can’t imagine him being any further, needing him closer, even closer than the part of him inside you. Because as you blink furiously, registering in your post orgasm haze, about the medical nen coma. That you don’t know the state of your health or the day of the month it is, instead all you can feel is your husband’s cock burying deeper into your guts like he’d never get to again. Overstimulated and too full, Uvogin roared as he came feeling your perfect velvet walls so tight, his vision whiting out. The way the bulge in your lower tummy inflated, the way he re-hardened in seconds to empty you to slam back in. A silent scream all that escapes you.

Fucking through each other’s highs there was nothing you could have ever wanted more than him like this. Maybe you would have wanted him to wake you properly to meet with the doctor to know whether or not you’d live or die. But you’d take this heated moment as you lose your mind as he fucks your sensitive nerves and toys with your clit, murmuring loving yet intense proclamations into your ears. 

Blissed-out face. Uvogin’s eyes burning into yours. Sweat falling from your foreheads. Cries of love. Heavy breaths. Electricity swarms you two, bodies lit in flames of passion and his possession over your body, mind and soul. As he comes again, letting your tiny cunt greedily take his warm seed, your chest sores and a pathetic smile tugs at your lips. You’re babbling incoherent words. Letting him grope you and kiss, and nip and play with your most sensitive areas even as you cried for a reprieve. His come leaked from your folds, an intense river of the warm seed trickling down to the bed, leaving you oh so empty from it and the aftermath of losing his cock. You cried for him to go back inside, that you needed to feel close to him to be one with him. Your hips bucked and jerked as tears fell, pitiful pouts before he laughed.

He sucks and licks along your cunt, slurping your juices and his own seed. Playing with your sensitive and enlarged clit as tingles shoot along your core, twisting so good in your belly. Sweet salvation as you sigh in joy and blurry vision from the pleasure his mouth gave you, collapsing further into the pillows and opening your legs further to welcome him. Fingers threading into his hair to keep his head in the very spot you needed. 

A whimper bubbles from you as he kisses up your aching slit, before leisurely dragging along your sensitive bud that feels just right. Furiously working you to another climax as he suckled your clit, a finger stroking inwards of your thigh. He pads along your sopping entrance and you shudder, watching as two fingers sink into your cunt. Two of his large fingers, which one alone bigger than most cocks. Stretching you out so good as he pumped and curled to your liking, stimulating all the spots that he knew made you go dumb. Uvogin thinks he wants to watch you lose yourself to him but he knows this is a fine line he’s on already, taking advantage of you in such a vulnerable state. But he can’t help himself! You’re just so cute and he’d been so scared the last two weeks. He needed to have his cock deep in your little pussy, the one he’d been so good not to fuck whilst you were in your coma. He wonders if you’d let him fill you again as he jerked his hips against the mattress as his cock began to harden again. 

You’re grinding against him, he smirks before latching back onto your clit and listens to every vibrato of each moan. Of each cry and beg as your slick rushes from your tight cunt, ecstasy blossoming inside you once more as he coaxes orgasm after orgasm from you, him allowing your roadmap of pleasure to lead back to the thick tip of his cock prodding at your slit once more. You smile, so stupidly with a wet face and flushed skin, hardened nipples and asking for him to fill you up again. 

And he does.

Until you're leaking of him. Barely conscious and not able to even moan in pleasure. Until you're trembling and neither your arms or legs can support you anymore. Till he’s shooting blanks and still nudging himself back into you even as you drift off.

Uvogin ruts into your barely there form, pulling you to the edge of the bed so he can have a better view. His come dried and caked onto your skin. Hair a mess. Face swelled red and dried with streaked tears. He grunts as his feet garner support from the ground so he can pound back into you without worrying about the mattress holding him. He doesn’t care that you aren’t crying his name or begging for more. All he sees and cares about how you still squirt little streaks of juices from your hole and across his abdomen. How your body is so obsessed with his touch that he can still make you orgasm even as you lull in and out of sleep. Your clit is so engorged, pink and sensitive but he can’t stop playing with it, rolling it between his calloused fingers as you squirm. Or sucking on it so harshly you passed out earlier, only awoken by him tapping your cheek, pulling the back of your head up so you could watch his cock morph your insides to him as you barely understood what was going on before spasming and blanking out again. Staring into your blank eyes, mouth open in an O-shape, he tells you how much he loves you, and that everything is going to be okay. And of course you believe him, he’s your husband after all, the only man you’d let use you like a fuckdoll in your sickly state to the point your tummy inflated from his thick spurts of come.

Tomorrow, you tell yourself, you’ll come back to the reality of your situation. Tomorrow. For now you’ll bask in your husband as an escape.

-

It’s the next day, your legs and core are so sore, when you meet with the doctor. It felt like the pink blush was permanently painted along your cheeks as he checked over your vitals. Uvogin watched you smug, one hand tracing circles along the low of your back. The memories of yesterday are prevalent in the air, the thought of it makes you go flush. Uvogin knows the effects he has on you even in such a serious moment that you almost want to smack him for it.

This was it. The moment of truth. 

You're fluttering with anxious nerves, stomach churning and you’re eyeing the garbage can for the chance you puke. Thundering in your ears as your heart hammers and blood rushes. It’s like your surroundings were null as you carefully watch the doctor’s every move, listen to his every breath and word to analyze what they mean. Looking for any sign in his body language that you’re fucked, that it failed and you’re officially out of options. 

But it doesn’t come. He smiled warmly between you and Uvogin. 

“As I expected, my nen coma was a success.” 

As he expected? Had he seemed so certain two weeks ago? You didn’t think so, but apparently he believed off of past patients that you’d recover?

He continues, “Your body was able to replenish itself not having to strain itself the last two weeks. You’re out of the danger zones to where traditional medicine will be able to bring you back to around 90% of your strength. While it’ll never be completely perfect, permanent damage has been done, you’ll no longer be in chronic pain day in or day out, or worrying about coughing up blood. You can go up stairs without stopping and go for walks without needing someone’s assistance. You’ll have energy, an appetite, no longer with permanent symptoms of pneumonia, and excitement towards the future once more.” 

You immediately look to Uvogin, who for once looks pleasantly surprised. His eyes glitter as he meets your gaze, and he smiles. It’s genuine, not forced like everything had been at one point to keep your spirits high. Immediately, you fling your arms around him, tears prick at your lash line. Hugging him as tight as you can knowing you couldn’t hurt him, while his boisterous laugh is like music to your ears. 

The doctor sends Uvogin out of the room to fetch food, saying he’ll go over your medications now. 

For a second you stutter, your whole body short circuiting as you don’t want Uvo to leave. But his encouraging nod your way before he closes the door helps you relax. 

You quickly discover why the doctor wanted time alone with you.

“It’s fairly simple, these two bottles of faint coral-pink pills are for the next two months. They’re high dosages which is why they’re rather large pills, do your best to get them down. Take them with food as well.” 

The doctor grabs two other bottles, your stomach drops as you feel a change in the air. 

“Now, I’ll keep it simple. I can’t tell if you’re happy, what kind of doctor would I be if I helped you recover just to keep you with a dangerous band of criminals?” He laments, “The pale yellow pills are for the final month, they’ll cement the work of my nen and the pink pills. You should not regress for the rest of your life, they’re strong and will kill off any remaining infections or diseases. You’ll be lethargic so I recommend taking them at night.”

“What about the blue ones?” You ask, stomach feeling like it was in the pits of hell the way it violently churned within you. 

“They’ll undo mine and the pill’s work and will allow you to pass peacefully. Take them for a final way out.”

“You- How could…” 

“I’ll write down directions, yellow pills if you feel like the pink ones worked. Blue is needed if more aggressive medications are needed after the two months. At your discretion, who would argue?”

For a split second you wonder if this was a test. But you just smile at him, “I really appreciate your help. It’ll be nice to breathe normally again.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

It took all your strength to not focus too intently on the blue pills as the doctor explained to Uvogin what they meant. He was completely bought in by the ‘deceiving’ explanations, no inkling present that one of the bottles could kill you.

You don’t want to think about it, not too much. You want to think about having autonomy once more. To breathe without hacking, to walk without needing help, to eat without getting sick. 

Month one- you take the bottle of pink pills. Each day, you aren’t sure if you’re truly feeling better or if it’s a placebo. A week of getting out of bed without tears or an aching body, is when you realize recovery was possible. You begin to enjoy full meals with Uvo, seeing the delight on his face when you bake for the first time in over a year. You two laugh at the mess, how half the pastries were burnt but it’s progress as you salvage the edible parts to feed the other. Your deep, nasty cough still surfaced each day. Less and less mucus each time. You’d sleep through the nights, once again becoming the one to wake up first like a waiting puppy for its owner, how expectantly you stared down at him nudging him to wake. How for the first time you were able to initiate sex with no worries of getting sick or him hurting you, as you took his swollen lengthy cock into your mouth. Him standing over you as he lets you explore him with your tongue. He’s so heavy and you giggle, warm and needy as you suck and kiss, lick along his thick veins to the point he can’t handle your teasing. You cry as he fucks your face but they’re good tears, and he watches as you swallow and then open your mouth to show him. Uvogin never leaves your side but for once you feel joy towards it, not frustration. 

Month two- you still take the pink pills and the improvement is astronomical. You giggle like a maniac as you skip about the fluttering grass outside the Troupe’s Base. Uvo watches you spin about before falling to the ground in exhaustion, he smiles as you bask in the sun. You’re breathing heavily but no coughing fits come. You’re bright red and clearly tired but you can still get up to keep going. He’s relaxing under a tree and you’re running around like your life depended on it, he thinks you’re just so damn cute. This is the month you return to more hobbies, become more talkative and want to watch more shows or finally give him back snarky remarks. Uvogin almost dies from the elation, the lightness of his chest at how life returned to you, how you were you. Not the husk of a person stolen away because of disease, you’re happy. Right? 

It’s now month three- you stare between the two bottles. ‘Take the blue pills for a way out.’ The doctor's words reverberate, you’d ignored them for the first two months not wanting to worry about it. Not wanting to get in your head before making a decision. 

You sit in the main room of the Troupe’s Base, Chrollo had called a last minute meeting the night before so Uvogin had to cart you out of bed, ruining a rather good dream. You’re staring at the medications on the counter, then eyes flickering to the clock. Today was the first day you needed to make your choice, the one you’d avoided for so long. 

Sickness numbed your mind at times, while at others allowed you to see things for what they really were. You think. You’d been ready to die, to be released from chronic neverending pain, but now having life back changed your mind. Little things you’d always taken more granted were now things you would never want to lose again. Maybe you’d lost yourself a long time ago, maybe you were always a horrible person to love Uvogin, but as you recount all these years with him you don’t want to lose him. Or the way he loved you. The doubt you’d had towards him after Bates was finally washing away, you walled all the incessant ringing you’d have in your ears off. No more were you susceptible to the common sense you had at the start of your captivity to always hang onto the truth about him. You walled it all off, brick by brick in your head. 

Maybe a part of you wants him to suffer. Wondering how he’d react when you suddenly fell sick again and passed, would he be ruined? Would he move on? You figured he’d do something dumb, find a way to get himself killed more likely. So you walled those feelings off too. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” You smile as Uvo walks out from one of the halls. You mewl into his large hand as he cups the side of your head before moving so you could lean back into him. He’s so large over you that when you lean back on the side of your chair that you only reach up to his thighs. 

You crane your neck to look up, “Everything okay?”

“Yep. Nothin’ for you to worry about.” He looks at the bottles on the table, “So, what ones you thinking? Can you mix them depending on how you feel each day?”

“Uh, don’t know about that, doubt it? I’ve been trying to recount everything to make a decision. Because I mean… I can’t complain, I feel good.” 

“Right.” Uvogin held a hand for you to take, then he grabbed your waist to help you up, “Up to you then, babe.”

The feeling of his thumb circling against your clothed side and the suddenness of standing makes your head spin. In a moment of striking clarity you reach to grab one of the bottles, certain in your choice.

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm.” You grin up at him, squeezing his hand as you lace your fingers with his. 

The bottle of yellow pills rattles in your hand as you two make your way to his room. The blue pills sit forgotten, almost screaming out for you to change your mind, to think things through again. That you needed to at least leave cracks in the wall you created to protect yourself, just in case. But you didn’t. You coated it in shiny protective layers of something in your mind, causing your chest to surge in feelings of love and all things gooey and over the top. Just stars left shining in your eyes as you look at him. 

The month of taking the yellow pills passed, they made you lethargic like the doctor said they would, causing you to get mass amounts of sleep. But he was right, they made you feel good as new. 

You sit cross legged in the townhome, leafing through pages of your book as Uvogin shuffles around in the kitchen. He’d insisted that he’d make dinner tonight, which you told him takeout would be just as satisfactory (and probably better anyways). 

After multiple interventions on your part you two finally sit connected at the hip as your weekly show plays, food in hand. When Uvo finishes he tucks an arm around your waist pulling you closer, pressing a kiss to your hair. A heaviness in your chest suddenly becomes apparent, each time you swallow the food seeming dry and tasteless. 

“Uvo?”

He sensed the tension in your small body immediately, but didn’t say anything as he knew you were still adjusting. While physically you could handle a lot from long walks or eating actual food, mentally you were still catching up with the changes. 

“What’s up?”

“Can I tell you something?” You ask meekly. Your fingers feel sweaty, you have to set the food down on the coffee table immediately. A storm rages within you. One side telling you to spill, the other telling you to let this be a secret you die with.

“Anything.” 

“The- You remember the blue pills I could have taken instead of the yellow ones?” More screaming within you to stop. Like hands were physically trying to drag your voice back down, that this would only anger him. 

“I do.” 

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, focusing on your hands in your lap. You’re more aware of his hulking presence holding you to him than before. You’re more aware of his steady heartbeat and breaths as you wait for them to speed up, to show his anger.

“You can’t get mad.”

“Mad ‘bout what? You end up taking any?” 

Your heart is hammering in your ribs, like it’d burst out ripping you and all your biggest fears into the open. It’s giving you away, you know it. The room felt like it was closing in, suffocating you until you took a deep breath in. No lies. You were given a new chance at life and you would not keep this from him. Couldn’t. It was best it came from you rather than someone else somehow down the road. 

“They would have actually killed me.” 

Silence. 

“Uvo?”

“Yeah?”

He’s not reacting how you thought he would. He starts to fucking laugh and you’re staring at him like a deer in headlights. It makes feelings of annoyance bubble in your chest, anger as your nose flares and your pupils dilate. 

“Why… Are you laughing? It’s not funny.”

“Course it’s not, babe, but I already knew.” He shrugged. 

“How?”

“Shalnark. Guess he got curious what was in them after you said you wouldn’t be taking them. I said he could have ‘em to do whatever that tech freak does.” 

“I don’t understand.”

“Came to me and told me they would have regressed your pneumonia and caused you to pass in your sleep eventually. So I assumed you were aware of that, the doctor probably lied to me, and you made the choice to live. Of course I had to wonder what if you didn’t know and it was all luck you didn’t take them, now I know it wasn’t.”

“That’s why you didn’t say anything?”

“Yep, figured if you didn’t know you’d have flipped shit.”

“Why are you acting so calm? You’re freaking me out.”

Uvogin forced you to look up at him. He pulled you in for a quick kiss, “Because you chose me. You had all that time to think about it so you must have known for certain you wanted to be with me.” He grinned deviously, “Course I’m a little irked but, I do deserve some shit still for kidnapping you. I’d say it all worked out though, huh?” 

You playfully smacked his chest, unable to hide your grin, “You know I looked at the blue pills as a way out if the medical coma and pink pills didn’t work. That if I was back in pain, I couldn’t believe it almost, I was ready to suffer again. Not once did I want to use them because I wanted to be away from you. Sure I wondered if you deserved to suffer for the shit you do, but I love you. I wanted help from that doctor because I want more time with you, I could have said no to Chrollo three months ago. So I knew what my choice was from the start. You’re all I wanted those months with Bates, I had time to think, unravel my feelings yet you’re it for me Uvo. Guess you’ll get your karma in another way.”

“So fucking cute, wife.” His lips crushed onto yours again, his tongue shoving inside claiming you. He pulled you to straddle his lap before he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, “You had me believing in that stupid karma shit, you know that? Glad you’re finally passed me being a mass murderer and all that.”

“Don’t say it like that!” You groan, shame prickling the back of your neck making you go warm. The wall is still strong in your mind, keeping you happy, keeping you from fully feeling that shame that should have made you go comatose. Instead it allowed you to kiss him with all your might, tugging at the shirt he wore. A kiss turned to desperate chaos as teeth gnashed and lips fought for dominance, saliva shared and dripping as lewd moans began to fill the air. Carnal touches. Salacious grunts. Swirling hot sex filled air controlled you two as clothes thrown discarded and forgotten, unneeded. 

You’d made your decision. How much of it was really your own, was left up for discussion. You’d never know how much of this you really wanted, or if you’d fallen in love out of necessity for survival. Or if Uvogin really was who you were meant to be with. But all you knew as Uvogin forced his swollen cock passed your tight unprepped walls, you’d never want anything more than this man as you cried. You who practically passed out as he breached your aching cunt and to the hilt of your cervix, outlining your tummy and pushing to stretch you even more as he yelled out for you. This man who loved you furiously and would destroy the whole world for you if you asked. And that- wasn’t that the grandest declaration of one’s feelings you could receive? 

Right? 

authors note on an alternate ending— i view it as if reader were to die than this would head towards canon where uvogin dies by kurapika’s hand and he’s all content because he gets to see you again :))

[scribblewrites]

Random MHA headcanons that live in my brain

list of some stupid headcanons that just feel right

Characters: Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari, Uraraka

Bakugou

Texts with full proper sentence structure and punctuation. He focuses too much on his studies to not be a nerd when texting. I’m talking corporate email style texts.

He is an ugly sleeper. tossing, kicking, snores with his mouth open, you name it. he also looks like shit in the mornings but will deny it and tell everyone that he just rolls out of bed and is good to go.

Has hyperhydrosis and has only worn black/dark clothes since middle school to avoid people commenting on his sweating.

He is asexual. He doesn’t realize he is until his early twenties, he always thought he was just better than other teens for not being distracted by relationships and horny things.

Kirishima

Refuses to wear gloves when dying his hair. His hands and ears are constantly stained red from the messy application.

Wears a retainer at night to help stop teeth grinding or accidentally biting his tongue.

Dry scoops pre workout/creatine like a MENACE when in a rush. He says he’s fine doing it but has had multiple coughing fits after accidentally inhaling.

Kaminari

Struggles in math and English (dyslexia & dyscalculia) but thrives in science. He adores physical science especially, but since people expect him to not be a good student he stopped applying himself.

Has accidentally eaten a candle

Got his wisdom teeth removed in his second year, Sero proceeded to video him crying because his doctor “stole his bones” while recovering from laughing gas.

Knows and uses the most chronically online slang terms to confuse and upset Iida and Bakugou

Uraraka

Will float things around her room while multitasking. She often forgets when she does this and will walk into waterbottles and notebooks she left floating

She often doodles in class and started keeping small notebooks full of cute animal drawings. She’s not especially talented or anything but will always leave doodles for her teachers on tests.

Is a huge fan of mug cakes. She is the reason the dorms never have clean mugs but always offers to make them for her friends as a quick treat.

Loves anything with strawberries. Order at a small coffee shop? Strawberry matcha. Favorite treat at the bakery? Strawberry fruit sandwich. Her favorite snack when her family is tight on money is strawberries dipped in sugar.

Hope y’all liked these stupid hc’s lol. Let me know of y’all’s favorite random highly specific headcanons

[chronicbeans]

hi I saw your masterpost and was wondering if you could write Micah Yujin x reader who suffers from asthma?? I don’t know if requests are open and I’m so sorry if they aren’t, no pressure at all

Sure! I personally don't have asthma, so I'm sorry if these aren't necessarily the most accurate. Most of my research for these things comes from Mayo Clinic and the NIH. I also went to the ACAAI for this one. These will be headcanons because they weren't specified, but if you want a short fic you can ask!

TW: Asthma Attacks, Hacking, Invasion of Privacy/Stalking

Micah Yujin with a Reader who has Asthma:

• He's a smart man. I mean, he literally found your address by hacking into your personal information. So, the chances are, he probably knows that you have asthma. Not only that, but what type of asthma you have, any allergies you have, what medication you take... you get the gist. The only problem he may have is knowing what exactly your condition may cause.

• Yes, most everybody knows asthma can cause shortness of breath and asthma attacks, but not everybody really knows the less noticable symptoms, or what to do during an asthma attack. That's not going to stop him from trying his best to learn! He's pretty internet savvy, so he knows where to look. Though, those pesky research papers have a bunch of medical terms he doesn't understand... What the hell is an etiology, or a toxicokinetic? He's probably looking at papers that are high above his medical knowledge or reading level.

• When the two of you finally end up meeting face to face, he's absolutely ecstatic! He also tries his best to accommodate for you in certain scenarios. If the two of you decide to go on a hike or walk, he'll try to go slower for you so you don't overexert yourself. If your asthma is triggered by certain dusts or allergens, he'll be keeping a sharp eye out for them to steer you away from it. He may seem to be extremely overprotective and worried about it, and he really is! He wants to protect you, but he's also painfully aware that he can't really do so when it's a chronic illness...

• If you ever end up having an asthma attack with him nearby, his first step is to internally panic. Yes, he knows what to do, but he's also terrified that it might not work. However, he'll help you sit down, use your inhaler if you have one, and get you to a safe place. All while he's internally telling himself stupid jokes to keep himself calm, and telling you words of affirmation to keep you calm. As much as he'd love to tell you the jokes he thinks of, he doesn't want to make you laugh or frustrate you while you're having difficulties breathing. Humor tends to calm him down when upset, but he knows others might get angry and think he's not taking the situation seriously. He'll tell you them after your attack passes, and you've calmed down, if you want.

• Micah is going to let you cuddle one of his dinosaurs, afterwards. If you aren't allergic to cats, he'll also let you cuddle Skrunkly. If you are, though, he'll put her into a different room for you, and vacuum the room after she's out.

• He's the type to completely forget about your asthma until you actually have a problem. Not necessarily in the sense that he'd forget to avoid your triggers. No, he'll remember them, and help you avoid them. It's more like it is second nature to him, now, and he doesn't think of your asthma as being "asthma". It's almost like he's forgotten that not everyone has the "smaller" symptoms, like coughing or slight wheezing while laughing... And that may or may not be because you're one of the few people he actually talks to. So, any small symptoms are seen as just normal, then whenever you have bigger, more serious problems related to your asthma, he'll suddenly remember that "Oh, yeah, you have asthma- OH SHIT-!" and begin panicking, because said "more serious problems" that most likely will make him actively think about your asthma are probably asthma attacks or extreme coughing fits.

• He's probably going to have a miniature checklist written down on things to bring with him whenever he's going somewhere with you. He's already been bringing a mini first aid kit with him just because it's useful, but now he's bringing a separate kit with your emergency inhaler and any medications you might need to take in an emergency, as well as a thermos of a warm, caffeinated beverage to drink if you don't have or use an inhaler. He saw somewhere online that caffeinated, warm drinks can help open the airways a little bit, so it wouldn't hurt to try.

• He's going to obsessively check in on the latest news considering research regarding asthma. Any new, scientifically backed tips and tricks on how to help ease the symptoms will be relayed to you.

• Also, is your medication too expensive? How about he just pays for it! He'll find a way to get the money! He can hack into a few places to... "borrow" a few dollars for it. Or a few thousand... Or million... No price is too high for your comfort!

• If you couldn't tell, Micah probably will be a bit overly anxious, at first. However, once he calms down and actually gets used to living or being around someone who has asthma, he calms down. It's all second nature for him at some point, and he's no longer actively thinking about it. From then on, it's all just a regular relationship! Or, at least, as regular of a relationship as you can have with an obsessive hacker that is probably stalking you... It's to protect you, he promises.

[chthontoya]

Chronic hanahaki, Uraichi, codependency (?), unconsensual drug use, getting together, WIP, ficlet, suggestive themes, stalking (obviously, bruh)

"Oh, it's this time of the year already," - Ichigo doesn't quite whine, he doesn't, but he really really close to it.

It was time for his flowers to bloom and this was annoying as hell. Ichigo had to take his medicine and visit hospital once in two weeks to extract excessive ooze the medicine turned flowers into. And coughing! Coughing was intense and annoying, and always full of ooze.

So Ichigo saw hanahaki as a recurring alergy: deadly but manageable and definitely he'll have it forever. Because running from emotional problems was like a second skin for Ichigo and he wasn't going to change now.

Ichigo would never have thought that the most annoying thing in hanahaki will be his friends' and family curiosity.

In the begging of his "Pining disease", Ichigo would wake up in night from time to time with a terrible cough, blood and flowers around. Nowadays Ichigo was talking his medicine in time like a well oiled mechanism. He just couldn't let the flowers bloom and let everyone to immediately understand who exactly he was pining for. Because flowers always pointed at the object of infatuation and Ichigo had spider lilies of all thing. No matter how in denial he himself had been during his first year - spider lilies covered in blood and saliva had crushed all his hopes for further avoiding his feelings. He had had to accept them. Doesn't mean he planned to ever share them.

...

"Oh, feel dizziness finally?" - Kisuke asks with enthusiasm. Ichigo glowers st him suspiciously and nods, - "Tea finally took its toll. Wonderful," - he nods few times playing with his fan, - "Unless you're trained against this kind of chemical or interrogation technique, which you're not, you'll answer every question I ask." Kisuke grins, looking too satisfied for Ichigo's opinion.

...

"Playing the game in guessing what flowers you decided to grow in your lungs have been fun and etcetera but it's totally not worth your struggles. It have been, what, two, three years?" - Kisuke shrugs with a fake bored tone, - "So I decided to haste things somewhat."

"You drugged me." Ichigo states without surprise.

Kisuke nods.

"So who is it, Ichigo?"

Ichigo presses lips together and glovers at the ex-onmitsukidō agent. Kisuke sighs with a strange glimmer in his eyes.

"It's not ever easy with you, is it." Kisuke sighs dramatically, his eyes however remain calculating with something else mixed in. "So, are they human, shinigami-soul or hollow?"

"Shinigami-soul." Ichigo slurs panicking. He has no doubts he's doomed. "Why not asking if you know them?"

"I know them." Kisuke states with such certainty that it makes, Ichigo's breath hitch noticeably.

Ichigo knows he have been doomed since the moment he fell for Kisuke. This, however... This is a such blatant display of what he is so damn set on. There're so many things but the most importantly Kisuke cares. Cares enough to force him to admit his feelings and some tiny soft part in Ichigo wishes to submit immediately.

Ichigo doesn't even asks how Kisuke is so sure he knows the object of his infatuation. For some reason Ichigo has no doubts in the statement. The idea of Kisuke fucking stalking him to the extent where there's no a time window without him being watched makes him shiver with the excitement. Ichigo wonders if his arousal will give him out before his drugged mind will.

Kisuke humms at the answer. Shinigami - souls was the biggest circle of the three: Visored, captains and their second in command, even some seated officers (which absolutely weren't worthy Ichigo's attention).

Kisuke pushes down his hopeful ego which is whispering him seductively how Kisuke himself is in the circle.

"Are they a captain level shinigami? To ease your struggles with definition, do they have Bankai?" If they do, Kisuke will have nearly twenty people to pick from, and he still will be one of those. The exiled shinigami is disappointed in himself, will he really try to cut groups the way to delude himself about being the one who Ichigo desires? He needs to take hold on himself.

"They have," - Ichigo agrees with eyes idling around the room.

"Please refrain from attempting to run away," - Kisuke asks in play-pretend of being offended manner, while his blood boil demanding an action. The idea of physically forcing Ichigo to stay still makes him feel feral.

Ichigo doesn't listen - frees himself from his body to equal the ground. Useless. Kisuke moves fluidly and already pins Ichigo down with a knee on his back and awaken Benihime in hand. It's easy, really, and somehow not less exciting.

Ichigo's a powerhouse but he's a warrior - not somebody adapted to confined places and fast hand-to-hand combat. Kisuke suppresses the desire to change the position, to make their bodies so close that he would be able to feel every stutter of Ichigo's breath.

"Mah, Kurosaki-san, have I taught you badly to assess your surroundings and opponent?" Kisuke wonders if he could cut Ichigo's ear, for example, and still remain to seem harmless enough for the hybrid to come to his house and take everything he gives without self-preservation. Kisuke licks his lips abusing the fact that Ichigo doesn't see his face right now. "Let's continue," - of course his tea have affected body and soul, - "How well are they with living in the transient world?"

Again, the question cuts a lot of candidates and, if Rukia is the person of Ichigo's affection, Kisuke will still be able to delude himself a bit more.

"Good enough."

"In time terms."

"They've lived here for a while."

Kisuke humms - Ichigo is still trying to be as vague as possible. Then Kisuke has to still himself. How well Ichigo's watching his language? Ichigo can't specifically mean Kisuke or Love, the ex-onmitsukidō is clearly overthinking.

"Their Zanpakutō type?"

Kisuke barely notices his change into clipped language. What Ichigo is doing to him? He should brace himself to hear about an ice-type Zanpakutō, not watch-drink for any little twitches in the hybrid's body.

Ichigo mumbles the answer under his nose. An interesting loophole - Kisuke muses inwardly, consciously prioritizing the feeling of awe and not the reflex from a Maggots' nest to subdue a person further.

"Ichigo," - Kisuke drawls in a way that usually makes the hybrid jolt, he continues in a light tone - "I'll get the answer anyway. Don't make me work for it."

Ichigo tenses even more and keeps silent. `Taunting` - whispers something deep in Kisuke.

Ex-onmitsukidō eases the hold on Ichigo allowing him to move. Of course the hybrid bolts immediately. Not to far - Kisuke uses the opportunity to pin him down in a different position - face-to-face. The hybrid is beautiful like this, sprawled underneath him, held by Benihime's threads and Kisuke's body, all flushed and hard breathing. He jolts and twitches in attempt to escape.

"Zanpakutō type," - Kisuke repeats the question.

Ichigo seems torn. Head is turned away. Eyes are averted. Ichigo slightly shivers.

"Blood type."

[quiet-in-the-wild]

I think I’m not sick anymore from Covid.

I still have an occasional dry cough - but I don’t feel sick.

Omg this was awful- make sure to mask etc. I think it lasted exactly 2 weeks of symptoms. But it feels like I lost the whole month of July. & I had to postpone 2 specialist appointments. One for top surgery consult & one for my ovarian cyst that I’ve been waiting for since March & it got rescheduled in late September 🙃

I literally had every single symptom of covid + some I wasn’t expecting like being unbelievably sweaty & having to change my clothes every couple hours.

Ugh that that sore throat was awful & then I just like lost a few days - just slept or was completely out of it.

Some things that helped

DayQuil & nyquil severe cold & flu.

When I was awake we watched seasons of task master & I feel like laughing / staying distracted helped a lot.

For 4 days I could only drink hot water/tea- because even room temp water burned my throat. & the only time my throat didn’t feel like a million cuts was when I was drinking tea. I think continuously drinking honey vanilla chamomile helped me not get dehydrated.

Smelling things- I lost my sense of smell & I just kept smelling stuff intentionally until it came back - peppermint was very helpful

Sleeping laying flat on my side helped my cough- sleeping sitting up causes phlegm to go in my lungs & it was awful. I literally was coughing every 30 seconds one night when I sat up to sleep & bruised/injured my diaphragm

There was 1 or 2 days in the middle of it I thought it was over & then I got all the symptoms again & at that point I was so sick of it.

In the past 4 years we’ve wondered if we had covid before. & we definitely haven’t. That was horrible unlike any cold or virus I’ve ever had.

I tend to say away from people in general. Like working from home & we avoid crowds because we don’t like them & mask in crowded places.

But the more I think about it- I was at a birthday dinner for my mom & my one aunt had been sick all day the previous day- but she’s old & has chronic health problems - but looking back it was definitely Covid. & I’m so frustrated that she came to dinner when she was clearly sick.

So please dont go to events if you feel sick- the strain I had/my whole family had started out as digestive distress. And then moved to a sore throat.

[localgirlbecomesobsessed]

It’s not funny

In which Leo doesn’t look after himself during a mission so Xena takes matters into her own hands.

Dealing with a cynic is hard work.

Xena’s leg is something she has to continuously make sure she keeps in peak condition otherwise it will just be seizing and chronic pain times~it’s why her aunt also made her do judo to help with that.

I’m just taking experience that I have with my shoulder, I don’t do judo but I do other things instead lmao. So hopefully I did this right

I also would say this is pre relationship between whoever you ship Xena with.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

She grounded out as she gently rubbed a pain relief gel onto Leo’s wrist, grabbing a bandage as she tightly wrapped it up. Leo just stared at her bored, unsure of why she even forced him to sit down and get treated when it’ll easily be healed by tomorrow.

It was a mission gone wrong, Leo throwing himself into a firing line of an anomaly again just to see what would happen, he took it down of course but only after getting his wrist and ankle severely broken. The later resting on a table as Alan angrily went to go get ointments from professor Nicolas. More angry at himself for letting Leo get hurt, blaming himself for Leo’s injuries.

Sho was quietly cooking them dinner, checking in on the two as Xena moodily started checking over his ankle.

“The mission got solved-I don’t know what you’re complaining about honour roll.”

He rolled his eyes leaning his head back as he avoided the heated glare.

“It’ll heal by tomorrow-instead of doing useless shit why don’t you go get me a drink.”

She scoffed poking at his ankle as Leo let out a harsh hiss, head shooting up as he glared at Xena.

“What’d ya last servant die of?”

She rolled her eyes as she leaned back onto the sofa.

“He’s making dinner.”

He quipped back, Xena coughed trying to hide her laugh shaking her head at Leo as she sighed getting up on slightly shaky legs as she hobbled her way to the vending machine outside.

“Go easy on Xe, she’s just worried”

Sho sighed out as he shoved the pizza into the oven, throwing himself next to Leo as he just rolled his eyes at him.

“It’s her job idiot-you think she’s being all buddy buddy with us just because she wants to?”

Leo snapped at him, the beggining of a migraine setting in, as his vision went funny on one side. He used haxs too much on this mission, needing it to track the anomaly through a fucking forest, like they were in a predator movie or something.

He leaned his head back again and closing his eyes as Sho sighed looking through the medical kit for Leo’s pain meds.

Xena walked back in and immediately clocked Leo’s new problem as she searched through her bag, finding what she was looking for she quietly walked over to them, showing Sho what she had as he nodded in approval.

Sho brushed back Leo’s fringe, the young man not even being able to crack an eye open to check what his friend was doing, the pain feeling like a can getting squashed as his brain imploded.

Xena gently placed the cooling Matt onto Leo’s forehead, he let out a small sigh of relief tentatively brushing his hand against the soothing item.

Sho found his tablets and Xena cracked open the strawberry cream soda handing it to him as they helped Leo swallow his tablets, Sho ushered her over.

“I need to sort the rest of dinner out, can you…”

He gestured to the leaning tower of Leo who was trying to subtlety claim Sho’s lap as his own pillow.

She nodded giving a thumbs up as he got up and she switched places with him, Leo immediately going to lay on her thighs before she stopped him.

“You can have this one for the moment, I’ve got my own fucked up leg to look after so please bare with it.”

Leo frowned risking cracking an eye open as he looked up to see what Xena was doing. Something he immediately regretted as searing pain shot through him as the lights beamed down in his soul, she sighed as she covered his eyes with her hand, lightly placing them there as he slowly closed his eyes again.

“How bout I tell you what I’m doing?”

Her voice soothing as she spoke in a low tone to him keeping her hand on his eyes.

“I don’t care.”

It didn’t have as much bite as it usually did as he rested his broken wrist on Xena’s knee, she was wearing Adam sandler-esque poison apple shorts, they were so soft that Leo debated stealing them from her after this, he would probably pull it off better than her after all.

She rolled her eyes as she grabbed the pain relief gel, raising her shorts on her other leg revealing her scar.

“I skipped my exercises the past three days…I’m meant to do them every morning or my leg can seize up-so this will hopefully help it chill…”

She started caressing the gel into her thigh, hissing slightly as pain throbbed through it.

Leo made a sound of disapproval.

“Now who’s the fucking idiot.”

He mumbled out.

Sho was trying to be as quiet as possible avoiding any clanging as best he could as he watched the display.

“Yeah-yeah, at least I admit it.” •_•

Alan walked into the room sitting tiredly onto the sofa as professor Nicholas followed through, he sighed as he gently crouched in front of Leo, xena talking her hand off his eyes as he peeked at their new guest.

“Looking worse for wear there huh…”

He quietly checked over Leo’s wrist, unwrapping the bandages as he grabbed one of his own ointments, gently spreading it over Leo’s broken wrist as he rewrapped it in a special anomaly bandage to help it heal quicker.

Leo watched professor Nicholas like a hawk, making the older man nervous as he avoided all eye contact, glancing instead at Xena sighing at her in disappointment.

“I thought you were meant to be taking it easy Xe?”

Her leg seized up last week after her time at obscuary, climbing the hill and running for her life causing her to get appointed bed rest by Dante over the weekend, one she obviously ignored.

•_•

•_•

“Don’t know what ya mean professor Nicolas.”

He almost face palmed as he grabbed another ointment handing it over to her, he had made it specifically for her knowing she wasn’t one to sit idle, much to her own detriment, he was planning to give it to Jiro to give to her on her next health assessment.

“Wipe the other stuff off and put that on please, it’ll help a lot more.”

A worried glance thrown Xena’s way before he started checking over Leo’s ankle, it was broken into two places and will take a couple of days to heal rather than the usual day. He instead of touching the wound directly, he slathered it onto the thick bandages and repeatedly wrapped it around ankle.

“You’ll need bed rest for at least three days…”

If Leo hadn’t been dosed on the extra strong pain killers, he would of kicked up more of a fuss, but to professor Nicolas’ joy he just grumpily turned the other way his now thick bandage wrapped around his wrist already pissing him off as he tried to get comfortable.

Professor Nicolas handed Alan a list of things Leo will need to have and take during his bed rest, including things for his migraines.

“We’ll do a proper health evaluation once you’re able to walk around.”

He kept his voice soft as he quickly packed his things up, ruffling Xena’s hair before pausing and handing her a bandage.

“Keep it wrapped up for now just to keep the area covered.”

He eyed the way Leo was trying to shuffle himself upwards in an attempt to take over her whole lap as Sho finished up in the kitchen.

“Try to get him to eat something before he crashes out as well.”

With a friendly awkward wave he walked out of vagastrom, more like speed running away-probably needing to rush back to the hospital.

She tilted Leo upwards the young man groaning as his soft pillow moved away.

“I didn’t say you could move honour roll.”

He seethed as he watched her finish up bandaging her leg. Leaning on his hands as he massaged his temples, his migraine dulling only slightly.

Sho brought a feast of food-pizza, chips, nachos (one overloaded with jalapeños and the other normal), hallomi fries and mozzarella dippers. All four of them drooling, even Leo who raised his head at the delectable amount of food.

It was 3am, no one else was about as the four quietly chattered to eachother, Leo wedged between Xena and Sho as they fed him food.

Xena nervously fiddled with her pizza as she kept glancing at Alan, annoying Leo as leaned against Sho.

“Just fucking spit out.”

He grumbled glaring at Xena as Sho fed him another lot of nachos, in an attempt to keep him quiet and happy.

Xena sighed for the hundredth time that night, exhausted and drained.

“Alan, will you practice judo with me please-I’ve been slacking in my exercises and I kind of need to do it for my…”

She paused, debating whether to say it or not as she chewed on her piece of pizza.

“I need to it for my physical therapy, I have to keep it up otherwise I get like this…”

She gestured to her thigh.

Alan lit up, finishing eating his own slice.

“Of course we can start…the day after tomorrow.”

Everyone could tell he wanted to say tomorrow before his eyes worriedly landed on Xena’s thigh.

Leo flopped back down satisfied with his food, his head landing on Xena’s thighs once more as he rested his wrist on her knee once again before grabbing her hand and pulling it into his hair, she smiled as she started brushing a hand through his hair. Leo lifted his legs and trapped Sho under them, finally getting comfortable.

Alan thought he looked like a spoiled cat, preening at their owners affections as Sho leaned onto the armchair, eyes drooping as Xena did the same on her side.

He sighed as he looked at the list, organising the medications so it’s in order.

When he looked at the three of them again he sighed smiling shaking his head as the three of them completely crashed out.

When Leo woke up in the morning, his fury knew no bounds as Sho carried him to his room, Xena and Sho basically camping out in his room to bring all things he demanded.

“Still think she’s doing this because it’s her job.”

Sho whispered, half serious/half joking, as Xena turned her phone off ignoring the chancellors numerous calls for the day after she told him she had important business to deal with as she helped through Leo’s latest target’s financial information.

“Fuck off.”

Leo took a picture of the brunch Sho brought for them, ignoring his smug smile as Xena tuned them out.

[fishermcn]

In a fight my muse... (elden ring style).

Bold the applicable, italicize if more situational or nuanced for what fits your muse tries in battle.

closes distance / makes distance.

uses overwhelming force / whittles down an opponent.

can endure a long fight. / cannot.

is quick to start a fight. / is rarely the instigator.

tries to dodge. / tries to block.

uses psychological tactics. / focuses on martial approach.

is a graceless fighter. / elegant fighter.

values honor. / uses dirty tactics.

accepts defeat. / begs for mercy. / cuts and runs.

// a bit of insight for the curious:

1.) when push comes to shove, sam relies on a combination of his more lethal aromatics and exploding jars to ruin someone's day or force an opening for his escape. he prefers creating distance for himself with a cloud of virulent poison or a roaring wall of flame, taking the opportunity space provides to decide on fight or flight.

1.) due to his shortness of breath, chronic cough and heart issues, a fight going on longer than two minutes will exhaust sam. as such a prolonged engagement is off the table, and sam avoids direct confrontation when possible. he'll attempt to weaken an enemy or tire them out with traps or aromatics before attempting to move in for a kill with a knife or his blade.

2.) should all else fail and his arsenal isn't enough to finish a fight, two things will occur. sam will draw a scavenger's curved sword and attempt to bleed out an attacker mercilessly... and he'll ring his spirit calling bell to summon one of two spirits. depraved perfumer carmaan's arrival is heralded with a fresh bombardment of aromatics, while the other has yet to be matched in a fight.

Inspired by a few things across rp tumblr, feel free to elaborate more if you’d like. And feel free to modify as needed for multi-muse blogs. Repost please instead of rbing!

tagged by: @rotten-pest (for this? for tagging me in a fight-prompt like this? homies for life :y)

tagging: @hexenjagd, @vulpesse, @yellowfingcr, @bcwblade, @miserycorde, @goesblind, @lumenfall, and you! i want to know how your muse throws down (ง'̀-'́)ง

[cest-la-vieve]

A Court of Pain and Pleasure (Ch. 13)

Summary: Evelyn faces the consequences of both her kiss with Azriel and the deal she made to train with him.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Chronic disability/pain, cussing, fluff, mentions of violence

Notes: i had a heck of a time writing this. thank you to all my lovely friends who offered to proofread and help me work through some of the kinks. i hope y'all enjoy !

Next Chapter: Chapter Fourteen

ACOPAP Masterlist

---

Dinner was… awkward, to say the least.

Cassian kept sneaking glances between Azriel and me, ranging from confusion to protectiveness to this smug smirk I wanted nothing more than to wipe off his face. 

Then there was Feyre and Lucien, off to the side chatting about… something. I couldn’t focus on listening to their conversation since all of my attention was on avoiding Azriel at all costs.

That kiss changed my life.

I had never experienced anything that had called to my very soul the way that kiss had, as brief as it had been.

The way his lips had slotted against mine, his hands oh-so-gently placed on my hips, and the perfect way our bodies fit together - like two puzzle pieces that had just been waiting to find each other.

All I wanted was to live in that moment forever. Well, actually, maybe not that moment just because I was so, so desperate to see what would have happened in the moments after if it hadn’t been for -

Cassian.

I glared at his back from where I sat on the couch. He was standing with Azriel and Rhysand off to the side, doing their best to ignore Nesta’s arrival. 

I took a long sip from my glass of wine, shaking my head slightly at the strength of it. Maybe if I drank enough I wouldn’t have to worry about the consequences of that kiss.

As if sensing my narrowed gaze, Cassian turned toward me. He took in my sour expression and sent me a wink, causing me to furrow my eyebrows even further. I could only hope he wasn’t planning on continuing his little game of tormenting me with what he had seen.

Of course, his attention was split between torturing me and panting after my sister. The thought alone brought a small smile to my face. Now at least I had something to hold over his head.

I turned my head away from the males and smiled as Mor fussed over Nesta’s dress. My sister would never admit it but I knew she loved the finery - something she missed while we were in that cabin. The Fae took extravagant clothes to a whole new level.

“It’s a good thing we’re not the same size - or else I might be tempted to steal that dress,” I heard Mor say and I giggled into my glass of wine.

Nesta took in the Fae female, looking her up and down, before saying, “Fortunately for you, I don’t return the sentiment.”

I covered my mouth with a hand, stifling the snort of air that escaped my nose, at the same time Azriel coughed into his glass of wine. Our eyes met but I quickly ducked my head, unwilling to see what emotion his face held.

I raised my glass in solidarity as Mor said to Feyre, “I think we’re going to need a lot more wine.”

Cassian quickly stated his intent to raid whatever massive collection Rhys surely had hidden somewhere. I didn’t miss the way Nesta stiffened at his exit and made a mental note to ask her about it the next time we talked. 

When was the last time we talked? When I woke up, I realized with a start. It felt like a lifetime ago. I’d have to make the time to check in with both her and Elain.

I watched Feyre sit next to Nesta at the table, Amren joining them a moment later. Cassian returned with the wine and I beckoned him over.

I vaguely heard Nesta interrogating Amren in the background, but couldn’t find it in myself to care as I finished off the last of the wine in my glass.

Cassian chuckled softly, “Maybe you should take it easy.”

“It’s your fault I’m trying to forget my own name,” I snorted.

He shrugged. “Maybe not my fault,” he teased with a pointed glance towards Azriel, who looked torn between finding out what Cassian and I were talking about and listening to Nesta.

Cassian poured me a bit more wine but stopped as he heard Nesta ask, “And what is beneath?”

I froze as well, knowing it wasn’t wise for my eldest sister to speak so nonchalantly to the most powerful being in this room.

Amren paused before answering, “They never dared ask me that, either.”

“Why.” demanded Nesta.

“Because it is not polite to ask - and they are afraid.”

A staring contest ensued then, one I was not particularly inclined to watch. I took a slow slip of my drink, staring at Azriel over the rim, trying my best to be inconspicuous. Thankfully, his attention was wholly fixated on the exchange between Nesta and Amren. I wondered if he meant to intervene or simply observe.

“We’re the same, you and I. Not in the flesh, not in the thing that prowls beneath our skin and bones… But… I see the kernel, girl,” Amren explained to Nesta, who had gone still enough that she could have been a statue. “You did not fit - the mold that they shoved you into. The path you were born upon and forced to walk. You tried, and yet you did not, could not, fit. And then the path changed. I know - what it is to be that way. I remember it, long ago as it was.”

I took a deep breath. What had she seen in my sister that I hadn’t? Yes, it was definitely time to have a longer conversation with Nesta.

I heard Rhysand intervene to break the tension and stood on unsteady legs to walk towards the table. I watched with wary eyes as everyone took their seats, carefully noting where Azriel and Cassian sat at one end.

Lucien remained standing next to me as well. He glanced to me, questioning his next move, then to Rhys, frowning. “I- shouldn’t you sit at the head?”

A drunken giggle left my mouth at the absurdity of it. Clearly, the male didn’t know the High Lord very well. I ignored the way all the heads in the room snapped towards me at the sound of my laugh as Lucien continued to flounder between the seat at the head and the seat across from Nesta.

“I don’t care where you sit. I only care about eating something right now.” Rhys said, snapping to summon the food to the table.

Lucien remained standing.

“Oh for gods’ sake if you won’t take it, I will,” I finally sighed out, pushing past the green-clad male and stumbling into the seat across from my sister. Nesta sent a disapproving frown my way, clearly not happy with my level of intoxication. I just grinned back at her and took another swig of wine.

My head spun a bit as the smells of the various foods hit my senses. I ignored the way the room seemed to spin a bit and focused on the lack of stress weighing down my shoulders. I flicked my eye to Nesta - to two Nestas.  Maybe I should slow down on the wine.

Lucien finally sat next to me, claiming his spot at the head of the table, as Feyre leaned forward to tell him, “You get used to it- the informality.”

Rhys sent a teasing jab her way before she elaborated, “It took me by surprise that first dinner we all had, just so you know. Honestly, Azriel is the only polite one.”

I stiffened. Next to me, Amren sent a sidelong glance my way. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as Azriel smiled faintly, shyly before taking food for his plate.

“As you wish.”

His appeasing, imploring words came back to me and swirled around my head. Polite, indeed.

Feyre’s voice cut through the haze in my mind as she asked Cassian, “What time are we back in the training ring tomorrow?”

I nearly laughed at the exasperation on my sister’s face as the Illyrian general responded that he wanted her there at 7 in the morning.

Azriel’s quiet but assertive voice found me from the other end of the table. “That means you, too, Evelyn.”

I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, as I found the shadowsinger leaning forward to make eye contact with me. His face was impressively blank, revealing none of his thoughts as he continued to look at me. He quirked an eyebrow and cleared his throat and I realized he was waiting for a response.

What had he said? What were we talking about?

Oh, yes. Training. Morning.

I groaned and threw my head into my hands. I had forgotten that moments before… it… Azriel had agreed to train me. Which meant I now had to get up early and spend gods knows how long training with the male I had just kissed.

Laughs echoed around the table at my reaction, taking it as my displeasure at having to be awake, but Cassian gave me a knowing smirk. I just glared daggers at him, wishing that the Cauldron had given me the power to skewer someone with my eyes.

I mentally berated myself as the other resumed their teasing, something about Cassian and Azriel wanting ‘prettiness’ to look at, though I doubt Azriel had been a part of that conversation at all.

I snapped my head up as Rhysand confirmed that he sent out invitations to all the High Lords to schedule a meeting to discuss the war.

I stood up, careening to one side as the room seemed to move beneath my feet. Lucien’s cautious hand darted out from his spot at the head of the table next to me to steady me on my feet. Once I wasn’t at risk of falling, I giggled and patted Lucien’s head in thanks, ignoring his bewildered and slightly offended look. The scene had effectively distracted everyone from Rhysand’s declaration. I cleared my throat, “I suppose this means you are going to begin that dreadful politicking of yours, which means it’s time for me to find somewhere else to be. At least until you all decide to discuss something more interesting.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes but Rhys gave me a smile. “How about I come to debrief you of the interesting bits once we finish our ‘dreadful politicking’, dear sister?” he asked.

My chest warmed at the title, realizing my insistence that he was now part of my family had finally settled in. Nesta, however, scoffed quietly and glared at me. Shit. I should have known she wouldn’t approve of that.

“I’ll be waiting, your High Lord-ship,” I curtsied, laughing as my hair fell in my face at the movement. I straightened myself out, smiling wide as I looked at Rhys.

He laughed, waving me off with his hand. I grabbed my glass of wine and made to leave the room. As I passed Cassian, however, a strong arm shot out to bar my way. I let out a noise of protest as my waist slammed into his arm. He just used his other hand to grab the wine from me, “I think that’s plenty, kid.”

I huffed and crossed my arms, but nodded. He retracted his arm and I continued my walk to the doorway, noting the angry swirling of shadows behind Azriel. I couldn’t begin to imagine what had upset him so much.

I sighed, stopping in the kitchen to grab a glass of water, figuring it might help the impending headache of tomorrow morning. I slowly made my way up the stairs, making sure both feet were firm on the step before moving to the next one. I laughed under my breath at each step, my head feeling fuzzy and my feet feeling heavy. I sighed in relief as I made it to the hallway. The glass of water in my hand miraculously hadn’t spilled any on the way up and as I took sips of it I could slowly feel my head clearing.

I paused as I passed Azriel’s bedroom. I glanced between the door and the sounds of conversation coming from downstairs…

I shouldn’t… Really, I absolutely shouldn’t.

The logical part of my brain screamed at me as the drunk part took over, moving my hand to the doorknob of its own volition.

I inhaled deeply as the door opened, taking a step inside. It smelled so much like him that it overwhelmed my senses. That cedar smell reminded me of sitting in the gardens of our estate as a child. The cedar forest had been planted centuries ago and bordered the far edge of our land. I didn’t remember much from those days before our father lost his wealth but I’ll always remember sneaking off to sit on the edge of the woods, listening to the birds, and waiting eagerly to maybe see a deer. 

It smelled like home.

I exhaled in relief and felt the tension leave my body. I realized I hadn’t really taken a second to just breathe since the panic of earlier. So much had happened so quickly and with this High Lords meeting on the horizon, it seemed like they were going to continue to.

I didn’t protest as my drunken fit led me over to the - of course, immaculately made - bed and sat me down on the edge. 

If I had been more focused, perhaps more sober, I would have noticed the shadows that crept through the open door and throughout the room. If I had, it’s likely I would have very quickly made my escape and gone to my own room before the person they reported to returned. 

But I was drunk.

And I reveled in the way the scent wafted in the room and calmed my senses.

So I put down my water and curled up on my side, letting my body and mind relax. I held the pillow close that smelled so strongly of the male that I just couldn’t seem to shake - not that I wanted to.

I fell asleep more peaceful and content than I had ever been in my life.

-

I blinked awake as the sunlight began filtering through the windows. I yawned, stretching my arms and legs before softly groaning as the stiffness of my muscles faded away.

I sat up slowly, wincing at the slight headache in my temples. Right. Wine.

An unfamiliar blanket was now bunched at my waist. I closed my eyes and racked my brain to remember what had happened after I left dinner last night.

I was supposed to go back to my room and wait for Rhys to fill me in. But I didn’t make it to my room. I cracked open my left eye just to confirm my suspicions. Yep, definitely not my room.

Which means… I blushed as I realized Azriel must have found me here once he retired from dinner. Oh, gods and training!

I whipped my head to the window, realizing that I was likely running late.

Pushing aside my embarrassment, I padded my way down the hallway to my room. I dug through the drawers, finding some fitted pants, a loose-fitting shirt, and a binding for my chest that was designed with exercise in mind.

I took off up the stairs to the roof, panting slightly when I finally burst outside.

I was surprised to find just Cassian standing off to the side of the training ring. I caught my breath and straightened. Narrowing my eyes in suspicion, I cautiously approached the Illyrian general.

“Is this a setup?”

He laughed and set down the sword he had been cleaning. I immediately went to grab it but he stepped in front of it before I could. His eyes twinkled in amusement, “What exactly are you planning on doing with that?”

I crossed my arms, speaking slowly, as you would to a child. “It’s a sword. It stabs. I was going to stab you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” I made to step around him and show him just how lethal I could be, but he moved in my way again. “But I’m not your trainer. He is.” He nodded his chin behind me.

My spine straightened. My pulse quickened. The tips of my ears warmed.

I turned slowly.

Azriel stood across the training ring, eyebrows raised in - amusement? Question? I couldn’t tell.

His posture mirrored mine, arms crossed and shoulders square but he held a grace and power that I’m sure mine lacked.

Determined not to let anything phase me, I bounced on the balls of my feet over to him, still keeping a good distance between us. I stood ramrod straight and held up one hand in a mock salute. “Where do we start, Spymaster?”

He hadn’t moved an inch. Feyre had mentioned at some point that the Fae were able to go so still it was preternatural. Clearly, Azriel had used his 500 years to perfect it.

I lowered my arm, relaxed my stance, and tilted my head in question. His eyes tracked every movement but still, he said nothing.

I whirled around to Cassian, asking, “Is this some sort of hazing ritual? Or a test of some sort?”

Cassian just shrugged.

When I turned back to face the shadowsinger, that stillness had gone but his eyes remained distant. Concern punctured my chest just as surely as any blade. “Azriel?”

His gaze focused and he seemed to return to himself. He cleared his throat and uncrossed his arms, offering one hand out to me.

“Is this a setup?” I eyed his hand with suspicion.

“No,” he answered, voice full of mirth at my wariness. “We’re not training here, so we have to fly to where we are training. Considering you still don’t know how to fly…” He finished by gesturing with his outstretched hand.

“Well, where are we going?” I put my hands on my hips.

His teasing edge hardened into exasperation as he sighed, finally dropping his hand. “Evelyn, we’re going to train. And what we’re doing can’t be done here. Especially with them-” His head nodded to Feyre and Cassian, the former must have snuck out here while I was distracted - “taking up the entire roof.”

At that, Cassian glared at Azriel. “Have fun training, you two,” he said oh-so-subtly. 

I flipped him a finger unsuitable for a lady. I grabbed Azriel’s hand in my own and said, “Just get us out of here.”

He smiled and took off into the sky before I could even blink. I could still feel my stomach dropping as his powerful wings beat, pushing us closer to the mystery destination. My eyes were screwed shut and I clung to him so tightly I would have worried about bruising him if he weren’t Fae.

A soft chuckle sounded in my ear.

“Don’t start with me, Az,” I ground out, careful to take breaths so my stomach wouldn’t empty its contents. “Between you and Cassian, it’s a miracle Rhys has lived this long without losing his sanity.”

His arms squeezed me tighter. Ignoring my comment he said quietly, “Open your eyes.”

I shook my head feverishly against his shoulder.

“I won’t land until you do.”

Cad.

“Fine but if I vomit on you I won’t apologize.”

At his silence, I cracked open my right eye, only looking at his face for a second before closing it again.

“There.”

“Eve.”

It was the way he said my name. The reverence it held, as if I weren’t me, a lost, ordinary female, but instead a goddess who he was asking for a miracle. Begging for one.

He wanted me to see this. It was important to him.

So I bit down on that fear that caught in my throat and opened both eyes before my brain had a chance to process it.

If it was possible, I held on to Azriel even tighter, both arms wrapped around his neck, probably cutting off some measure of his airflow. If it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.

I forced my head from his shoulder and gasped at the sight.

Velaris spread underneath us. I could just barely make out the figures of the Fae and faeries below us beginning to set up their various shops for the day or run their morning errands.

It wasn’t the city that enchanted me though - it was what surrounded it. Mountains reached far beyond what I could see from here, some capped with snow and others featuring jagged rocks. Trees covered what the city and mountain did not, making it look like we were flying over a vast green ocean as they rippled in the wind, mimicking waves.

It felt different than any place I had seen before. Even more comfortable and beautiful than the gardens of our estate. 

If it wasn’t for the flying part, I’d want to stay up here forever just to calm my soul and enjoy the view.

“It’s beautiful,” I confessed to Azriel.

He didn’t take his eyes off of it as he responded, “It’s home.”

Home. I repeated the word and savored the way it made me think of my sister and this beautiful place she now lived in. Maybe this could be home.

I closed my eyes again as Azriel began descending, deciding maybe it would make me feel less queasy if I couldn’t see what was going on. I’m sure the wine last night hadn’t done me any favors in terms of nausea today.

I cracked one eye open as I felt us slowing down.

We landed in a river. Seriously. Azriel landed in the middle of a river.

I shrieked and used only the strength of my arms around his neck to hold my body up as I bent my legs to avoid the water. Azriel laughed and hooked one of his arms under my knees to keep me out of the water. It wasn’t easy, considering the water came up to his waist, but he managed to keep me dry.

The water didn’t seem to bother him as he carefully grabbed my waist, lifting me up slightly, almost like I had seen dancers do at the theater. I didn’t have time to voice my question before he planted my feet on a small rock that was jutting out of the river.

I waved my arms, struggling to get my balance. Once I did, I felt his grip loosen on my hips before disappearing completely. I heard the flap of his wings as he used them to jump onto the bank of the river gracefully.

I tried to turn my body towards him, to ask what the hell he thought he was doing, but the rock was just as wide as my feet pressed together. Any movement could cause me to fall into the river which I really, really did not want to do. Beyond getting my clothes wet, I knew from my run yesterday that the water here was not an agreeable temperature.

I carefully shuffled my feet, thankful that the rock was dry as the smooth surface was hard enough to balance on without it also being slippery. I also sighed in relief that it was a foot or two above the water. Slowly, I managed to turn to where Azriel lounged on the bank.

Sitting on a tree stump, fiddling with a knife, one leg propped by its ankle on his other knee, he was the picture of smugness.

I scowled at him. “Azriel, what the hell is this?”

“Training,” came his slightly shouted reply.

I raised my voice to be heard over the babbling of the river, “How in the Mother’s name is this training?”

He grabbed an apple out of a small bag I hadn’t noticed him carrying and began peeling it with his knife.

“Don’t fall.”

“What?”

“The training is: don’t fall.”

“What is this supposed to teach me other than you’re a massive prick,” I shouted, getting frustrated with his nonchalance.

He stood slowly, coming to stand closer to where the water was rushing past. He grinned. And it wasn’t the grin I had come to adore, this was a grin full of mischief and conspiracy. 

“You’ve never had Fae balance before. In any fight, having the right footing and being aware of your body is the difference between life and death. Since you don’t understand how your new body moves, you don’t know how it balances. Thus, don’t fall.”

I stared at him incredulously. “What about when the tide rises?”

He just shrugged.

“How long am I supposed to do this?” I glanced warily down at my feet, watching the water run by on either side of their positioning on the rock.

Another shrug. “Cassian’s record is a day and a half but I’m not expecting you’ll last much longer than 15 minutes.”

At that, I puffed up my chest and squared my shoulders. 15 minutes? That’s what he thought I was capable of?

I stared him right in the eye, “Prepare yourself to be here for a while then, shadowsinger.”

I settled in, trying to equally distribute my weight between my legs. I kept my gaze focused on Azriel and sorted through my brain for things I could think about to pass the time.

I ran through the plot of one of my favorite books, trying to remember quotes and the accurate order of events. It played out in my head like I was there, fighting monsters and watching an epic romance unfold.

Once I had finished my “book” I blinked back into conscious thought. “Time?” I asked.

“10 minutes.”

I groaned. I tried my best to bend my knees which had begun to stiffen but couldn’t do much beyond a small squat, fearful of falling.

“You know, if your legs are stiff, you could try bending them one at a time,” the suggestion rang out from the shore.

I gritted my teeth. I had never stood on one leg before. I’d always been too weak or in too much pain. Of course, I could do it briefly, but for the amount of time it would take to adequately stretch a leg?

I slowly eased more weight onto my left side, keeping only some in the toes of my right foot. Then, I began to bend my right leg up, as carefully and slowly as I could. I bent my knee, interlocking my fingers around my knee to hold it up for a few moments.

I smiled triumphantly. I looked at Azriel once I was certain I wasn’t going to fall.

Even from this distance, I could have sworn that I felt his pride and approval radiating through me. I ducked my head down to hide my smile - and blush - at the thought.

I let go of my right leg, dropping it back to the stone, only flailing my arms slightly to regain my balance. I repeated the entire process with the left leg, sighing in relief at the movement that brought the blood flow through my stiff muscles. ‘

By the time I had both feet back on the rock, I felt comfortable enough to bend my legs one at a time with my feet firmly planted on the rock. I probably looked ridiculous bending side to side as I shifted my weight around but I didn’t care.

I was determined to stand on here until I couldn’t anymore.

“15,” the time rang out in Azriel’s voice.

I grinned. “I told you I could make it 15 minutes.”

“Let’s see if you can make it 15 more,” the challenge was clear, taunting. 

A middle finger was my only response.

After about 5 more minutes of shifting my feet and standing in silence, I began waving at Azriel, who was now sitting on the ground, leaning against the stump. He still had his knife out though I couldn’t begin to see what he was doing with it.

Eventually, he noticed my movement and raised his attention from his little project to look at me. “Yes, Evelyn?”

“Tell me a story.”

He started. “What?”

“You heard me, a story. If I’m going to stand out here in silence for much longer my brain will rot.”

He looked at me in disbelief, caught off guard by my question. “I don’t have any stories.”

Scoffing, I tossed my hair over one shoulder, nearly slipping my left foot a little too far forward in the process. “You’re five centuries old, of course you have stories.”

“Not any good ones.”

I studied him. His shoulders had hunched forward and that teasing light had gone out of his eyes. He looked… haunted. I cursed myself for broaching the topic, unsure of what exactly plagued his memory.

I longed to reach out a hand to his shoulder to comfort him. “That’s okay, you don’t have to.”

He shook his head, his hair curling into his face. He bent his legs, spreading them wide so he could comfortably place his elbows on his knees. His practiced hands flipped the knife back and forth in a show so mesmerizing I couldn’t look away.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you a story. It’s that every story about my life doesn’t come with a happy ending.”

“Every ending is a happy ending,” I responded automatically. Even though his head was down, I saw the confused scrunch of his eyebrows, so I continued, “Either you’re happy it’s over or you’re happy it happened.”

When he remained silent, I elaborated, “For example, I will be ever so happy when this little training exercise is over,” I stretched a leg behind me for emphasis, “And even though I’ll be sad I don’t get to annoy you anymore, I’ll be happy I enjoyed annoying you enough that I’ll miss it.”

He nodded his head slowly, processing what I said. But still, he insisted, “You don’t want to hear my stories, Evelyn.”

“I do,” I urged him, pleading as much as I could. “They’re about you, how could I not want to hear them?”

At this, he snapped his head up. His hazel eyes met mine and then blinked slowly. Once. Twice. “Really?”

And for a second I forgot I was talking to one of the most feared people on this planet - in this realm. This wasn’t the facade of the terrifying Spymaster of the Night Court nor the imposing shadowsinger, rippling in darkness. At that moment, I was talking to someone who had never had someone take a genuine interest in them. He was… broken. And so was I.

“Really.” I said with a small smile, hoping to convey some part of the emotion that was overwhelming me. 

He offered a small smile of his own. “Well, there was the time Cassian got banned from the Summer Court.”

My mouth fell open and I nearly tumbled off the rock in shock

He smiled then, broad and genuine.

And so it continued. Stories fell from his lips nearly too fast for my mind to keep up. The annual snowball fight, the time Mor nearly broke the bank of the Night Court on dresses and wine, when he traveled to the other courts for missions, and even small stories of his time in the war.

I hung on his every word, noting how his expression changed as he recalled the different events - sometimes smiling to himself fondly, others setting his face in a grim mask.

Soon enough, I began telling stories of my own. The time Elain and I as children had chased each other around the kitchen table until she ran into the corner of it, effectively cutting her forehead open, but not deep enough to scar. Or when Nesta and I had raided our mother’s closet, trying on dresses and shoes that were much too big for us.

He listened intently to each story, asking clarifying questions and laughing when I told him something particularly mortifying like my first kiss or the first time I had gone to the local pub by myself. I didn’t miss the pride on his face as I told him of my barfight and what I’d done to the men who got a little too handsy. Every so often, he’d pointedly glance towards my legs, wordlessly reminding me to stretch them.

We had both finished laughing about him and his brothers being forced to climb the stairs at the House of Wind when we fell into a comfortable silence. He tilted his head up to the sky and closed his eyes, basking in the warmth.

“An hour,” his soft voice gave the time check.

“An hour.” I repeated it in awe, looking down at my legs. When was the last time I’d been on my feet for an hour? Probably never.

Azriel sat up from where he had laid on the bank, spreading his wings so he could prop himself up on his elbows. “You know, princess, you’ve more than proven your point. I’ll pick you up so you don’t have to swim.”

Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the nickname, I protested, “I’m no princess. And I’m going to stay here until I fall over.”

“Your sister’s the first High Lady,” he pointed out. “I’d argue that’s as close to a princess as you can get in Prythian.”

I snorted, stretching a leg out to the side. “And what about my behavior, exactly, screams princess to you?”

I waited for the inevitable “nothing”, waiting for the comments about how boring I am, especially compared to my sisters. But instead, I got-

“Everything. You’re intelligent, kind, and you’re always trying to better yourself. Plus, you care about people, even the people… even the people no one else notices,” he avoided my gaze as he finished.

My heart softened. Before I could stop myself, the words slipped out, “Who did this to you?”

At that, he sat up fully. “What?”

“I- Well, I…” I stopped. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but now that I thought about it… My body slowly began to shake in anger. He’d been alive for 500 years and for him to still be clinging on to this sense that he wasn’t enough, that nobody cared…

I felt the surety of it in my bones. He’d never feel that way again. I repeated myself, this time making it a demand, not a question “Who did this to you.”

“Evelyn, I don’t…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. I watched the internal debate as he decided what to tell me. It didn’t matter. I’d find out and when I finished with them, there’d be nothing left.

I felt it then, that power that filled my soul and focused all of my rage. I let it rise, tingle just below the surface of my skin. How dare they? How dare they take such a caring, thoughtful male and make him feel as though he was worth nothing?

“Evelyn!”

I blinked, the anger temporarily abating. I took a deep breath and focused on my footing, letting it anchor me to myself, my body.

I looked at Azriel, pacing the shore. “I- what happened?”

He let out a sigh of relief. “You were channeling it. The Illyrian power.”

My cheeks reddened in shame.

“What happened?”

I blanched then and felt my palms get clammy as I thought about telling him how defensive of him I was. I needed a distraction. Anything.

I looked down at my feet and saw that the tide had come in. The water was just starting to lap at the heels of my shoes. That also meant that the river would now be far over my head if I were to fall in. I smiled to myself, a plan slowly taking form in my mind. I’d have to time it just right and if I could just make him think that it wasn’t on purpose…

“I was thinking about-” I made a show of losing my footing before falling into the river. “Az!”

I gasped as the icy water nipped at my skin. I pushed my way to the surface, thankful the current wasn’t that strong. Azriel stood frozen on the very edge of the river, frantically looking for where I would surface.

“Az!” I shouted, going under before popping back up. “I can’t swim!”

As I let myself go back under the water, I laughed at the panicked look on his face the second he understood what I had yelled.

I held my breath for as long as I could, using just enough force to keep myself in place. Within seconds, those familiar arms wrapped around my waist and hoisted me back up into the air.

I coughed pathetically, clasping a hand to my chest as Azriel held me in his arms. Even standing at his full height, the water was now up to his chest.

I lolled my head back, feigning weakness, and locked eyes with him. I nearly lost my composure at the absolute chaos plastered across his face. His eyes were wide, pupils were blown. His wet hair stuck in curls on his forehead. His breathing came in shallow pants, adrenaline forcing his body into overdrive.

“Evelyn, I am so sorry. I had no idea or I wouldn’t have- This was a stupid exercise and I should’ve asked,” he rushed his words, one tripping over the next, as he tried to apologize.

He finally took a deep breath to calm down and looked me over. I held it in for as long as I could but-

I burst into giggles.

His gorgeous face went from concerned to confused to completely murderous. 

“You wicked, evil female,” his eyes sparkled like the night sky.

I went to retort but found myself flying through the air and plummeting back into the water.

I pushed myself off the bottom, treading to keep my head above water. Sputtering, I looked incredulously at the male who now stood smugly in front of my stone perch.

I splashed water at him.

And, like a petulant child, the Spymaster of the Night Court splashed me back.

I fell onto my back and kicked as hard as I could, sending a spray of water in his direction. He moved to splash me again but I took off, swimming with the current as fast as I could.

I heard him cuss softly under his breath before he was launching himself after me. I laughed over my shoulder, hardly feeling the cold bite of the water as I swam. The muscles in my legs screamed in joy at the feeling of being used after standing still for so long.

I made it farther than I thought I would when I felt a gentle yet firm hand wrap around one of my ankles. I put up a weak fight, realizing just how tired my body was and how little I actually wanted to get away from him.

He pulled me into his embrace and I sent a small splash of water his way, not enough to even reach up to his neck. He smiled as I continued to struggle, at this point just being stubborn that I actually couldn’t maneuver out of his hold. 

I frowned before giving up completely. He relinquished his hold on me but I squeaked and grabbed onto his shoulders.

He stood firm against the gentle current but I didn’t feel like treading water to keep myself near him. Azriel seemed to get the message as rested a hand on my waist again to hold me in place.

I looked him over. His face, water still dripping down it from the strands of hair perched there, his arms, his broad shoulders, and his wings-

“Doesn’t it bother them?” My voice came out in a little more than a whisper.

It was enough to snap him out of his reverie and he glanced over his shoulder, flexing his wings slightly, before whispering back, “My siphons,” they flared in response, “I can concentrate the energy enough to create a sort of shield.”

I hummed appreciatively in response and reached a hand out.

He stiffened and I froze.

“May I?”

He seemed torn but nodded.

Gently, I ran a fingertip along the top of his wing.

His whole body shuddered and he tipped his head back with a sigh.

“Azriel,” it came out breathless but I couldn’t help it.

His eyes opened and met mine at the word. His gaze was dark and filled with something I hadn’t seen in his eyes before. 

I brought my hand back from his wing and moved it to brush a stray piece of hair from his forehead. Around us, the river ran higher, up to Azriel’s shoulders now, but the cold was gone. A faint blue light emanated from his siphons and I knew he was somehow keeping us warm.

I settled my hand on his cheek, relishing the feel of his skin under my fingertips and the way he leaned his head into my palm. The entire world had faded away to this moment, every breath felt like a lifetime.

I waited, part of me was still unsure about this whole situation. Part of me - the human part, perhaps - screamed that maybe this was too much, too fast.

But then his eyes widened a bit, pleading, and he begged - begged - “Just kiss me, Evelyn. Please.”

I was helpless to do anything but fulfill his wish. I was his, so utterly and completely his. 

And even if this was just a moment, if this was the moment that I’d have to remind myself to just be happy that it happened when it ended, it was enough. He would always be enough. Every moment with him was a happy ending. I so desperately miss and cherish each one when they’re over.

I smiled, running my hand through his hair, I said, “As you wish.”

-

Taglist: @mis-lil-red @ambivertedcroissant @reareaikea @biblophilefox82 @in-some-fandoms @hollyismentallyillhelp @donttellmehowtowrite @issybee0611 @vera0124 @juulle987 @bankerfrog @pricklepearbloom @sevikas-whore

[systembug]

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them?

🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust?

😓 DOWNCAST FACE WITH SWEAT — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge?

🤒 FACE WITH THERMOMETER — does your oc get sick easily?

for Ethera?

Thank you for the ask<3

🔺 - Yes! She knows how to shoot, specifically. There are many guns that are too heavy for her to use effectively, however. The best choice would be a one-handed laspistol, imo. Her combat style is staying behind the lines and coordinating others, so close-quarters combat is a worst-case scenario.

🩹 - While i didn't intend to represent anything specifically, i think some traits i've given her might match some irl disabilities. I needed to balance her willpower, intelligence and psychic powers with some weaknesses so i made her physically frail. Which turned into her getting tired easily and avoiding physical exertion in the fic/my head. This is similiar to chronic fatigue, i think. The other thing i came up with just for flavour was her constantly whispering. Initially it was to give her typical "Mysterious mage" vibes. But then it gained a significance in her story, so its an important part of her now. I didn't go into any specifics on what exactly caused her injury, but it might be viewed as similar to some irl voice disorders(?). Basically, she cannot yell - her voice breaks and she would have a coughing fit. It gets hoarse and she has trouble breathing in some cases. She has a voice-amplifier that boosts the volume for her in case she needs to be heard.

The voice disorder is a metaphorical detail, that i put in mostly for symbolism, its not meant to be accurate to anything.

💘 - Her found family<3 It includes:

Her Seneschal that is utterly loyal and supportive, a person that has her back always. Pasqal, enough said XD (she trusts him enough to be herself fully with him) Idira, who she loves platonically. Her poor little meow meow that genuinely cares about her Lord Captain and Understands her:3 Jae is a fellow girlboss that fought to be a free person in an uncaring universe. They respect each other very much. They sometimes swindle each other out of money, in a friendly way XD Heinrix becomes her friend eventually, because he cannot hide his tender emotional side from a telepath and Ethera cannot bring herself to use it against him because she's just like him in that regard. They also bond over Psyker trauma Special mention goes to Vigdis - very loyal and helpful, becomes her right hand in gathering intel through the vox system.

🖤 - Yep:D This comes with being a spy. Its never a physical, direct murder, but she DEFINITELY poisoned some nobles, ruined some reputations and lives and possibly broke a couple of hearts along the way.

😓 - Its hard to not be open-minded when you can feel and know people's point of view like your own. She does have some values she won't budge on ofc, but she will hear you out at least.

🤒 - Yes, unfortunately. But as a Rogue Trader she has some good medical personell to take care of her:) (sickfic when /jk jk unless)

[illarian-rambling]

12 for the oc torture ask game!

12. What kind of health repercussions has your oc experienced through intense stress? How do they manage them?

Yeah, this is a looong list. I'll just start at the top.

Izjik ended up losing most of the mobility in her left hand after being tortured by sirens. She's had to adapt her fighting style a bit, but other than that, she was a righty, so it didn't make too much of a difference. There's another thing too, but it's spoilers ;)

Sepo is my favorite punching bag, so his medical history is a long one. His tongue was cut out after he killed the siren queen's daughter, leaving his vocal magic unstable and apt to injure him. He sustained a brain injury when said magic went awry in epic proportions at the end of book 1 and his heart stopped for two minutes. Ever since that, he's had to carry around a cane/quarterstaff for occasional fits of vertigo, had to keep an even more impulsive temper in check, and spent several months relearning how to do basic tasks. He ends book 3 with a carved up leg and broken arm. Those actually heal nicely enough, except he gets stuck with a bit of a limp. Also, he loses his magic for good. Poor bastard. I'll bet he keeps some fantasy pain meds on him at all times.

Twenari’s magic can cause sickness and she does almost die once due to overdrawal, but recovers with no long-term effects.

Djek... gets out pretty scott free tbh. Good for him.

Astra's biggest lasting injury is her twisted hand. She fucks up a teleportation ritual big time and is left with some fingers put on the wrong way. Others were less lucky. The physical repercussions of her hand hurt less than the failure it symbolizes.

Mashal is a robot, so most injuries are fixable. Yipee!

Ivander is cursed with his flesh evaporating off his bones, so as you can imagine, that means some pretty serious medical issues. He walks with a cane because his cartilage is basically gone, and his bones are also being eaten away. He's got some serious chronic pain and has to take care to cover the flayed patches of his skin so as to avoid infection. His energy is constantly low because of this. Pretty much, he's actively dying, so it's not too surprising that his main quest is finding a cure.

Elsind might have hella trauma, but they've ducked most physical health repercussions on the simple fact that their biology is weird and tends to bounce.

Avymere has been using a breathing mask ever since the disaster teleportation ritual. Either part of their lung got disappeared or collapsed, they're not sure. But regardless, they have a hard time breathing even with the mask and can't do hard physical exertion for long or they'll collapse into a coughing fit.

Thanks for the ask! This really put into perspective how much I bang these guys up

[retrocatastrophy]

A short fic I started this summer and finally finished.

Tw: character death mention, suicide thoughts

It was already three in the morning. The group began to disintegrate and head back home, back to its weekly life of working hours and necessary integration into the society. Sonja and Taarna were the last to leave, since they lived directly across the hall from the boys. Sonja admittedly had to be coaxed by Taarna to go since she and Conan always had something to talk (and bicker) about at any time. Taarna waved at Conan goodbye and he locked the door, relieved that the flat was quiet again, though he still smelled cigarettes, alcohol, and someone's vomit.

He went out onto the terrace to clear his lungs. The streets were deserted, and the city was sleeping.

Conan then noticed Elric sitting on the tiles with his legs through the bars of the fence and a cigarette in his mouth. He didn't seem tired. He had a small radio with space rock songs playing at a low volume.

"How long have you been hiding out here?" Conan leaned against the cold railing. The lights on the neighboring buildings were mostly off except for a few lonely windows.

"What time is it?" Elric shook the ash from his cigarette and threw his head back to keep the hair out of his eyes.

"It's already three. Did you skip the whole party?"

"I was there when Taarna and Sonja came. When Larn and the others started arriving, it was too much for me." Elric coughed.

Conan spat from the fence and narrowly missed someone's illegally parked car "When are you going to stop smoking? Your lungs are going to hell."

Elric shrugged and tossed his cigarette through the fence. Conan calculated in his head how long the albino would live if he continued to take his health for granted. In the last couple of weeks he's started taking and mixing some drugs he's gotten off the dark web. Elric claimed they helped his chronic pain, though Conan knew he was lying.

"Have you been avoiding anyone?" Conan raised a bushy eyebrow and flashed a teasing smile as Elric stretched out his legs and leaned against the rough texture of the wall.

"Was it that bratty rich kid Nekron?" Conan inquired. In truth, Nekron was kicked out 10 minutes into the party due to his inappropriate behavior. But not before Taarna broke his nose.

Elric shook his head "I wasn't avoiding anyone. I just wasn't in the mood."

Conan's expression softened slighltly when he noticed Elric was genuinely in a bad mood. His eyes were slighltly reddish, masked only by the city's cloudless night.

"Something bad happened?" Conan inquired, a bit more tenderly, or as much as he could.

Elric glanced at him for the first time since the conversation started. He was quiet for a while, then spoke.

"Cymoril passed away." he sniffed, but Conan wasn't sure if it was from smoke or were his tears coming back. "The hospital said that she succumbed to her injuries. Yyrkoon is currently in custody but he'll pull some strings and be out sooner or later." his voice was shaking slighltly. His cousin always had a knack for avoiding the law.

Conan was aware of the situation. And he watched Elric spiral from the stress of it. Even if he and the albino weren't particularly close, he couldn't stand watching him sink into despair and self blame.

"Elric-" he began

"Don't, barbarian. I don't want to talk about it." Elric looked at him sternly

"Why not? Someone ought to make you face the truth." Conan retorted

"I'm warning you, don't go there!

"It wasn't your fault."

Elric stared into the streets, dirty and deserted "Wasn't it? I told her she wouldn't get hurt..."

Conan put a strong arm onto the albino's boney shoulder "You did the best you could."

Elric's head dropped down into his lap "But it wasn't enough... She got shot and I couldn't protect her."

Conan was getting agitated. Elric was always prone to self blaming for things that were out of his control "That bastard tricked you, don't put the blame solely on yourself!"

Elric snapped back at him "I shot her with my weapon! What else is there to say? And now she's dead... I won't see her again..." he sobbed into his knees.

Conan sighed "You keep on living. You won't pay off any debts if you die. You won't fulfil your dreams if you're dead."

Elric scoffed slighltly "My dreams died when she did. I'm one foot in the grave anyway now. It's only a matter of time now. Maybe I should do everyone a favor and just k-"

Conan grabbed Elric's shoulders and shook him, harder than he intended "Don't you dare say things like that! Don't ever say anything like that!"

Elric's eyes widened, staring into the barbarian's blue ones intensely. The radio went silent, it's batteries dying out.

Conan then released him and stepped back into the room. Elric hugged his knees, staring into the heavy night sky. If his blood wasn't so thin, he was sure he would have been blushing now.

[bethelightintoday]

Help! I can’t catch my breath.

Help! I can’t catch my breath. This statement was something I used to hear him say after he ran up and down the soccer field, chased up down the neighborhood street or jumped too long on the bed. My younger brother, Tyler.

The baby of the family! He was one of the most active out of us four children, but he was the only one who was constantly stopped in his tracks, gasping for air, because he couldn’t breathe. Ever since I could recall he knew he had asthma. He loved playing outside, getting into things in or around the house, spending time climbing trees, rolling down hills and playing the most competitive sports. Thankfully, his health condition didn’t stop him from exploring the things he loved. Yet it did create challenges that he had to learn to navigate if he wanted to continue to partake in them. As a child I didn’t understand why he and I both could play the same game of basketball, running outside and he’d start wheezing for air #helpican'tbreathe and I’d be okay. I thought, another asthma attack, sheesh! I know he’s faster (not by much 😊), but does it cause all of that. A few puffs of his inhaler and he was back to new. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve seen the various effects asthma has on people’s lives, alongside how my brother Tyler, now able to run alongside his children today and not have that once debilitating wheezing happen. I decided I could learn more about the cause of it all and why it only effects some people.

Asthma is the leading chronic disease in children. You can live with it every day; it has no cure and can be life threatening. It’s a lung disease that causes breathing problems from everyday factors. It’s where an individual’s lungs react to things, due to the airway being sensitive when exposed to them. Many factors can be a trigger that impacts one’s ability to breathe with asthma. Some of those factors are dust, smoke, pollen, viral infection, chemical irritants, cold air, or even extreme emotions such as anger or fear (Asher, 2020). Viral respiratory infections are the leading trigger for an asthma attack. On average children develop 6 of these infections each year (Tesini, 2023). Yet things such as respiratory syncytial virus (RSV) and influenza (flu) can be very damaging to someone who has asthma. Children getting the flu on average once or twice a year (Tesini, 2023). From viral infections alone, they have a heightened chance of experiencing asthmatic symptoms. Not to mention everyday indoor and outdoor pollutants. Smog, fragrances, chemicals, and such can irritate the lungs and cause greater inflammation to the airway. Outdoor allergens such as grass, weeds, trees, and mold can make asthma symptoms worse (Williams, 2021). These things can cause changes in the airway, making the space to breathe smaller and smaller. This happens by way of swelling or inflammation of the airway, extra mucus produces making the airway even smaller and tightening of muscles referred to as bronchoconstriction, narrowing the airway and irritated (Ingelheim, 2023). Each of these changes reduces or constricts the airway path, making it hard to breathe. When one or all three of these changes take place, it triggers an asthma attack #asthmaattacks. Symptoms of an asthma attack are severe shortness of breath, tightness, or pain in your chest, wheezing or coughing and fast heart rate (Seladi-Schulman, 2023).

So how does one control these symptoms or triggers from occurring? One learning and being mindful of individual triggers is helpful, this gives insight to things you can attempt to avoid that can bring on asthmatic symptoms or allow you to be prepared to treat them should they come. As I mentioned, my brother used an inhaler. It’s known as an rescue inhaler, which contains medication that expands one’s airway (Seladi-Schulman, 2023). Inhalers are the preferred way of treating an asthma attack, it’s not the only form of treatment. Although treatments are specific to everyone some common practices to help during an asthma attack are to have the asthmatic person sit up straight, this helps opens the airway. Remain calm as the calming allows for better breathing. Steady their breathing with slow, steady breathes and to move away from known triggers. These things can help reduce asthma symptoms. If the attack is serious, such as symptoms get worse after treatment, wheezing becomes severe, speaking becomes difficult and short or chest muscles are straining, call for medical attention immediately.

Learning more about what causes asthma, what can help prevent or calm symptoms I was still curious as to why my brother didn’t seem to have those same attacks now. Since asthma isn’t curable why didn’t he experience the same symptoms. Seeking out answers further I learned there may be stretches of time where asthma flare ups or other symptoms don’t occur. It unfortunately, doesn’t mean it disappeared, but it is nice to experience the relief. Avoiding asthmatic triggers are experienced when you have a solid treatment plan that you’re adhering to. Such as taking your medications or staying away from known triggers (2023). So, although my brother didn’t outgrow asthma, he has learned overtime how to navigate it to not experience those heart wrenching asthma attacks. He’s like how can learn to manage asthma to be able to live a normal and healthy life. Now he can explore nature, games, and such with his kids #livingwithasthma. And although asthma can be passed down, none of his children have it. It is most common being passed down when both parents have it.

Reference

Asher, M. I., García-Marcos, L., Pearce, N. E., &amp; Strachan, D. P. (2020, December 1). Trends in worldwide asthma prevalence. European Respiratory Society. https://erj.ersjournals.com/content/56/6/2002094 Seladi-Schulman, J. (2023, May 9). What to do when you have an asthma attack without an inhaler. Healthline. https://www.healthline.com/health/asthma/asthma-attack-no-inhaler

Can you outgrow asthma?: Carolina Asthma & Allergy. Carolina Asthma & Allergy Center. (2023, November 2). https://www.carolinaasthma.com/blog/can-you-outgrow-asthma/

Tesini, B. L. (2023, October 13). Overview of viral respiratory tract infections in children - children’s health issues. Merck Manuals Consumer Version. https://www.merckmanuals.com/home/children-s-health-issues/common-viral-infections-in-infants-and-children/overview-of-viral-respiratory-tract-infections-in-children#:~:text=Children%20develop%20on%20average%20six%20viral%20respiratory%20tract%20infections%20each%20year.&text=Upper%20respiratory%20tract%20infections%3A%20Symptoms,and%20include%20the%20common%20cold

Williams, K. W. (2021, June 8). 9 asthma triggers and what to do about them. HealthyChildren.org. https://www.healthychildren.org/English/health-issues/conditions/allergies-asthma/Pages/asthma-triggers-and-what-to-do-about-them.aspx

[schleckermaul]

MOST OF THE JOURNEY OUT OF THE MIST is a haze, in the aftermath. the memory of zhilan's home dissipates around them, alongside the grey muddiness that's been accompanying him for ... how long? it feels like days. the exhaustion settles on break's bones, the warmth of this memory not fully enough for him to keep going for much longer. it might've been that zhilan caught him, or maybe break managed to avoid falling, merely leaning against his friend.

   the trek to a physician blurs entirely, in his mind. he almost wishes he'd passed out, if only that didn't mean he'd be abandoning zhilan in the middle of nowhere. like this, he at least managed to take it step by step, even if their pace remained slow.

   zhilan was probably worried, anyways. break didn't manage a lot of proper sentences, when spoken to, and he doesn't remember what he'd said once they sat in the waiting room of a clinic he wasn't familiar with. most likely, break had let zhilan know that he would very much rather die than have to go to a hospital again, so that's apparently where they are— a smaller facility, one that doesn't overwhelm him as much, less people and voices.

   his awareness returns once he's being examined, zhilan still at his side. he was a bit worried that he might stab somebody if by himself, surrounded by strangers that mean to investigate his ... his health? his injuries? the shadow, sitting in his mind, killing him slowly?

   when the doctor asked whether or not break is fine with zhilan hearing about it, he stared at his hands. unseeing. unsure. but the tiredness sits on his shoulders all the time, these days, and lady shelly's presence softened him enough for his relent to be easier. carrying her feelings with him, the truth of it all doesn't feel that heavy. zhilan cares about him. he's not supposed to let that go to waste, if he can help it.

   sighing permission, a muttered, ' it's fine, ' the blurry memories aren't due to his injuries, this time. he remembers rattling off confirmation after confirmation, being asked whether this or that is normal for his condition. the chronic cough, usually spilling blood. his inability to keep most things down. the lack of sleep. the headaches, the lack of energy, the loss of consciousness. the scars, placed across his body. it's the first time he spends time thinking about the one by his shoulder, so close to his neck, certainly part of why he died back home.

   he doesn't mention that part.

   zhilan speaks up, once they're back in his apartment, once break has settled on his bed and zhilan was finished hurrying about, taking care of the bandages and medicine he was given, texting something on his phone. he stands at break's bedside, propping up the pillows behind him, so that breathing will hurt a bit less.

   break can't really brace for it. can't judge the emotion in zhilan's voice, his ears ringing. ' it's not ... 'why didn't you tell me', because it's not about me, xerxes, it's. i wish i would have noticed, because maybe you wouldn't have had to be alone with this for so long. '

   and that, too, doesn't get a proper reply out of him. he's too tired. he's too tired. he just nods, after covering his eyes with the back of his hand, teeth gritted. it doesn't take long for him to finally surrender after that, unconsciousness tugging at the back of his shirt, pulling him into a restless slumber.

   not for the first time in his life, xerxes break realizes that he's hopeless.