#then it should be expected that they wouldn't really come up with a nickname for their pokemon shfsjf

[knife-filled-plushies]

TW: blood, light gore, and Pokemon death

i gave og bloodmoon a morpeko sjfhsf

so OG Bloodmoon has a Morpeko now! :D

and here they are-sharing a nice, bloody meal sjfhsjf-

(Also for a little added context, this particular Morpeko is a carnivore/meat-leaning omnivore due to its unintentional diet of meat- Bloodmoon didn't really force it on that diet-he just doesn't always have the time to get Pokemon food and stuff for it, so he just shares the Pokemon he kills with it; he doesn't eat the body anyhow-and Morpeko is usually too hungry to care- don't worry! they both see it as a bonding experience :D)

[dixons-sunshine]

The sound of muffled cries filled Daryl's ears. He stopped in his tracks and cocked his head to the side, trying to find the source of the sound he was hearing. He soon discovered that it was coming from Dale's RV, and against his better judgement, he walked up the steps and opened the door, hoping to figure out who was crying. However, he stopped in his tracks when he figured out who those cries belonged to.

They belonged to you.

The sound of feet shuffling caught your attention. You quickly wiped at the tears that fell from your eyes, hoping that you could shield your true emotions from the person's gaze, but you knew it would be to no avail. You simply sniffled and looked up, prepared to tell whoever that had entered to please leave you alone. However, your words got caught in your throat when you saw it was Daryl.

Daryl's cerulean eyes locked with your own eyes. He was awkwardly fiddling with his thumbs. He wasn't entirely sure what he had expected to do once he had found out who was crying in the RV. However, although his brother's voice rang through his mind, reminding him that “chicks crying was an automatic no” and that he should run, a strange feeling overcame him.

He wanted to kill whoever was causing you so much pain. Even though he logically knew that you could've been crying because of something else, something told him that it was your boyfriend, that Shane prick that made you cry like this.

“Ya alrigh'?” He mentally kicked himself for starting with that. You obviously weren't okay. He felt like a perfect moron.

You chuckled bitterly and shook your head. “Yep, I'm just peachy,” you told him with a fake smile. “But I'll be fine. Don't need you to worry about me. Go and do... whatever it is you do.”

Daryl knew that was your way of telling him to get lost. He didn't blame you; your last interaction with him hadn't exactly been all sunshines and rainbows. The two of you had formed a friendship that was blossoming rather beautifully, but then he had snapped at you, and he didn't blame you for not wanting him to pry into your life after that. However, he couldn't stop himself from saying what he said next.

“Want me to kill 'im?”

You looked up at him with confusion clear on your features. However, you quickly realized what he meant, and you decided to play along with the joke—what you didn't know was if you really wanted him to, he'd go through with it. “Please, or else I will. I can't have a murder charge on my record. How will I find a job?”

Daryl chuckled at your joke and shrugged. “I dun' mind takin' the fall, as long as ya visit me in prison.” He took a few steps further into the RV, getting closer to you with each step. “But seriously, what'd he do this time?”

“Lori's pregnant.”

Daryl didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what you meant by that. He was painfully aware of the fact that Deputy Dick—as Merle had so affectionately nicknamed him—hadn't been able to keep it in his pants, and so were you, Shane's actual girlfriend. Daryl couldn't explain it, but the urge to stab Shane for doing that to you was strong.

“And,” you began, snapping him from his train of thought. “I finally broke up with him. I'm mostly relieved, but I'm also... I don't know. I mean, I dedicated four years of my life to this man. I didn't expect it to end like this. Hell, I didn't expect it would end at all. We had our fights, but I never once thought he'd do this to me. And now he got another woman pregnant, and I don't even know if Rick knows. If he doesn't, how do I possibly break this news to him?”

Daryl didn't know how to respond to that. He hadn't expected to have all of that dumped onto him. Feelings and comforting had never been his strong suits, so he didn't know how to make you feel better.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head. “I'm sorry for dumping all of that on you. Just forget I said anything.”

No, he wouldn't have any of that. He may not be able to comfort you, but maybe he could distract you. And after seeing the flowers in the vase on the counter, he knew exactly how.

“Ya know that Merle was really into flowers when we were younger?”

You scoffed in disbelief, but when you saw he was being serious, your eyes widened in disbelief and a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. “Seriously?”

Daryl nodded. “I didn't know 'bout this until he was high one night. We were out on a huntin' trip and he had his nose all covered in some drug. He had jus' had a bad encounter with a boar he didn't kill properly. I was cookin' up some squirrel stew when Merle pointed out to a bunch'a flowers in the distance. “Do ya know what daisies represent?” he had asked me, real serious, too. Of course, I didn't know, so he told me, “They represent innocence, purity, but above all else? They represent new beginnings. We're gon' grab the bull by the horns and take the world by storm, lil' brother. They ain't ready for us Dixons, that's for sure.” Yeah, that was bullshit. Ain't much of our lives that changed.” Daryl cut himself off before he could ramble any more.

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering at the sight of his shyness. Was it just you, or was Daryl kind of stunning? “Daisies really represent that?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. I looked it up. It actually does. M'surprised Merle knew that, though, but I didn't bring it up. Merle would just deny it and give me one hell of a beatin' if I did.” Daryl took a flower from the vase—a daisy—and extended it towards you. “What m'trynna say with that whole story s'that the situation with Shane and Lori definitely sucks, but ya can't let it get ya down. Be like a daisy. S'yer opportunity to start fresh. S'yer new beginnin'. Dun' let this be yer setback.”

A few beats of silence passed. Daryl was beginning to think that he had overstepped his boundaries, and he was about to pull back, mumble a “sorry” and hightail it out of there. However, you finally took the flower from him and sent him a small smile.

“That's actually kind of wise. Thank you.”

Daryl shrugged and took a few steps back. “Ain't nothin'.”

“Whatever you say,” you told him with a small smirk. It soon turned into a more genuine smile, however, when you glanced down at the daisy in your hand. “I needed that. Just... thank you.”

A moment of silence passed before Daryl spoke up with his usual nonchalant demeanour. “Yeah, yeah. No need to get all mushy 'bout it. Jus' can't have ya mopin' 'round camp and bringin' the mood down.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “There's the Daryl I know.”

And for some reason, as you looked up at him, you realized that you wouldn't want Daryl any other way.

[strangersteddierthings]

Shovel Talk(s) Part One

Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four

Steve and Eddie aren't even together when Steve gets the Shovel Talk from Eddie's uncle, but it is what tips Steve into talking to Eddie about his feelings, so he's not upset by it.

They aren't dating, not because he doesn't want Eddie, because he absolutely does. It's just that he wants to be sure Eddie wants him back. There are times when he's sure, when Eddie gets into his space a bit too close, or more often, than he does with anyone else. Eddie calls him a thousand and one nicknames, ranging from sweet to irritating but just when Steve thinks that's a perk left just for him, Eddie hands someone else a new nickname (just the one, a voice in Steve's head that sounds suspiciously like Robin says).

Not that any of that is the point. Wayne wouldn't bother to give Steve a shovel talk at all unless he knew how Eddie felt. Wayne is a man of action, and he's never done anything unless it mattered. Meant something. Steve and Wayne have sat in plenty of (what Steve considers to be) awkward silences because Wayne doesn't talk to fill the void of silence.

The point is, Steve drops Eddie off at the house the government so graciously bought for the Munsons, walks Eddie to the door and giving Eddie a hug goodbye. He stays on the porch until Eddie shuts the door and then nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears Wayne call out his name.

"Harrington," Wayne says from the shadows of the wrap around porch.

So, Steve jumps and it's only then he notices that Wayne is sitting at the table and chairs set up on the porch. "Mr. Munson, sir, hi. Hello."

Wayne lets out a chuckle, but it doesn't really sound amused. "I have come to accept that you are nothing like your father, boy, but I do want to make it clear to you, that Eddie means more to me than anything else on this Earth."

"I know, sir."

"I know you do. And while I will forever be grateful that you helped return him to me alive, know that I will not hesitate to make you disappear if you hurt my boy in a way he can't bounce back from."

Steve's not afraid of Wayne, not really, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to flee. He doesn't, though, because he'd gotten enough shovel talks from concerned parents in high school, and he knows they can sense weakness. "I can't promise I'd never hurt him, sir, but I can promise it'll never be intentional."

He can't actually see Wayne's face in the darkness but he feels sized up all the same.

"I believe that, Steve," Wayne says, and it's the first time Steve's ever heard his name leave the man's mouth, "now go home."

-

Wayne's shovel talk was expected. Robin's is not.

"You took Eddie on a date date?" She whispers it as though they aren't alone in Steve's living room. They're laying on the floor in a line, heads next to each other so if they turn slightly to the side they can make eye contact. Steve's not sure why they always end up on the floor for Serious Talk Time.

"Yeah," Steve says, looking away from Robin's face to stare up to the ceiling, "I mean, sorta? We can't like... be open that it was a date, but we went to dinner and a movie and it was nice. Shared a popcorn and played footsie under the diner table."

"Whoa," Robin says. "I never thought you'd- didn't think you'd be brave enough to ask him."

"Me either."

"Steve," Robin sounds serious, so Steve turns to look at her. She studies his face for a moment before she's the one to look away, speaks to the ceiling, "be careful with Eddie, yeah?"

"What? Careful how?"

"I just think you could really fuck him up," Robin says. "You're his first boyfriend, right? That's going to set a precedent for relationships that might happen if you two don't work out. And I hate to say this, because I know you've changed, but like, I saw how a lot of those girls you dated in high school ended up when you broke up with them."

Steve's a little hurt, because Robin's his best friend. She should be giving this talk to Eddie, not him. But, also, he understands. He knows that Robin knew about Eddie's sexuality before he did, knows they bonded over being queer while Steve was still figuring himself out.

Steve also knows that Eddie's never been in a relationship before, Eddie'd told him at much when Steve asked him out. Steve doesn't like that Robin implied that he and Eddie will eventually break up, but no matter how much that thought makes Steve's heart ache, he won't know if it'll happen unless it does.

He just doesn't understand why she seems to think he'll be the one breaking Eddie's heart. It could go the other way.

"Did you OD over there?" Robin asks, trying to lighten the mood.

"No," Steve answers, "I'll be careful."

-

They've been on four more dates before Nancy knocks on his door. She doesn't accept his invitation to come inside. Just starts speaking on his doorstep.

"As Eddie's Capital P Soulmate," is how she starts that sentence, and it makes something hurt deep inside Steve as he tries not to think about Robin, "I am obligated to remind you that I do own several guns now. And I don't miss."

"Jesus Christ," Steve says, because even Wayne was more subtle, "I got it."

"Good. I do know you'd never hurt him on purpose," Nancy says but Steve doesn't feel reassured.

He thinks that, if she really didn't think he's going to end up hurting Eddie she wouldn't have said anything at all. "Right."

"Well, good talk Steve," and then she's walking down the driveway and climbing into her car.

He closes the door and goes to the kitchen to get himself a beer, mostly so he has something to do besides stew in his emotions. He wonders if Eddie has been given the shovel talk, too? Maybe Robin did the same thing Nancy just did. Showed up unprompted, threatened Eddie with some sort of bodily harm, and then just left.

Steve grabs the phone and dials Eddie's number.

"Hello?" Eddie's voice greets him, albeit questioningly.

"Eddie, it's Steve."

"Oh, hello sweetheart," Eddie says, "are you calling for business or pleasure?"

Steve laughs, "business."

"Boo!"

"Listen, uh, I had a question. I just wanted to know if anyone's said anything to you. About us. Or, y'know, specifically about us and our relationship?"

"Uh, not really? A few congratulations, I guess. Why? Did someone say something?" Eddie's voice is level, almost too level, so Steve knows he's trying to keep cool.

"Oh, no! No! I mean, aside from the scary shovel talk from- Wayne, everyone's been surprisingly cool about it. Very supportive," Steve says and even though it's true, everyone they've told has been cool about it, it feels a little bit like a lie.

Eddie laughs, "I can't believe my uncle gave you a shovel talk! You know, I keep expecting to get one from Robin but so far nothing. She must think you're safe in my capable hands."

Steve is safe in Eddie's hand, he thinks, but that doesn't stop the sting that goes through him. "Of course, she does. You've been a perfect boyfriend."

There's a pause before Eddie's voice comes through the phone, soft and quiet, "I'm glad you said so. I want to be. For you."

"You're not allowed to say those kinds of things when you aren't within kissing distance, babe," Steve says, because if he doesn't add humor to this conversation, he's going to tell Eddie he loves him instead, and even Steve knows that saying that a month into dating is too soon, especially over the phone where he can't see Eddie's reaction.

Eddie laughs and makes kissing sounds at him before the conversation shifts to chatting about the day and making plans for the weekend.

-

Steve is trying really hard to not be the person he was in high school but every time he gets to the point where he's being a better person, someone brings up how he used to be. Shoves it back into his face that no matter what Steve does he can't outrun his past.

One such time is shortly after Steve and Eddie accidentally come out as a couple to all of Hellfire. Steve was just dropping off the boys and had stepped inside to chat a bit. Once game time had arrived it had and Steve made to leave, they'd (he and Eddie) had been on autopilot. Eddie'd whined 'where's my goodbye kiss?' and Steve had stepped over, kissed him goodbye, and was out the door before it had actually computed.

Steve had burst back through the door, rushing back to Eddie, because no way in Hell was he going to leave his boyfriend to deal with whatever the consequences would be alone.

It had been absolute chaos at the table with people shouting over each other.

"Of all the people you could be with, you picked Steve!? You could do better!" Mike had whined, and Steve had thought for sure he was the only one who had heard Mike until he saw Will punch his arm and hiss his own 'don't be a dick' at Mike.

It took almost half an hour to calm everyone down. It was a relief to know that Eddie had come out to his bandmates/the older Hellfire members already. The kids took it in stride, in the end, and Eddie had shoo'd Steve away.

Jeff had excused himself, too, and Steve thought he was just going to use the bathroom but instead he followed Steve outside.

Ah. Steve knows what's coming.

"Harrington," Jeff says, "can't say I'm excited that you're the secret boyfriend Eddie's constantly sighing wistfully about. I'm sure Wayne's already threatened you," And Robin, and Nancy, and Mike doesn't think he's good enough, "but if you hurt Eddie-"

"I get it! There will be dire consequences if I hurt Eddie," Steve snaps, not down for hearing it anymore. He stomps to his car and peels away from the curb without bothering to look back.

-

If he's being honest, Steve didn't even know he had a breaking point with shovel talks until he gets his fifth one from Dustin.

It's not even a shovel talk. It's just a single sentence, said almost a month after Dustin learned about their relationship. He's dropping Dustin off after their DnD game. Normally Claudia picks him up, but she's busy tonight and asked Steve to do it.

"Alright, Henderson, safely delivered."

"Thanks, Steve," Dustin says, unbuckles his seatbelt, and opens the door, before turning back to Steve. He just looks at him for a moment.

"What?"

"I'm happy for you and Eddie. Just, don't hurt him, ok?"

He nods his head but can't say anything. Dustin grabs his backpack, shoots him a smile, and climbs out. Steve does wait until Dustin closes the front door behind him before putting the car back in gear.

He manages to get home, somehow, because Steve doesn't fully remember the drive. It's not that his mind was so focused on something else that made him fail to take in his surroundings, but rather that his mind wasn't even a part of his body anymore.

One moment he was pulling away from the Henderson residence, and the next, he was home, just standing in his kitchen in the dark. And now that his thoughts are back, or easier to process, he finds himself wondering why everyone thinks that he's going to be the one to hurt Eddie.

How many people has he hurt that this is his reputation? Is it inevitable that he will hurt Eddie? Is it truly just a matter of time until he breaks Eddies heart? Why is everyone so convinced that he will?

Briefly the thought occurs to him that maybe he should call up Eddie and break up with him right now, before Eddie has a chance to get in deep enough that Steve could break his heart, but just the thought of it breaks Steve's heart, so he's not going to do that. Doesn't want to do that. That would just be punishing Eddie for something he didn't do.

None of this is Eddie's fault, and Steve's an asshole for even thinking of breaking up with him because of it. Which feeds him back into the loop of thinking that maybe everyone is right about him. He is an asshole and will someday hurt Eddie, perhaps even on purpose.

He loves Eddie. He's in love with Eddie. But does loving him mean proving his friends wrong? Or does it mean leaving him before they're proven right?

He wants to ask everyone why they think he'll hurt Eddie.

He wants to ask everyone why they don't care if he's the one that gets hurt.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"What's up, Supes?"

The hero froze. The file was basically glued to their hand. They looked up, only to find the villain lean against the doorway. They wiggled with their eyebrows, a smug grin on their face and admittedly, the hero had to swallow.

"Hi."

"Whatcha up to?"

"Just, you know...cleaning."

"Cleaning?"

"Yup."

The villain shook their head and clicked with their tongue, clearly not buying any of the hero's lies. It had been a perfect plan. Up until now. The hero cursed under their breath.

"How long has it been? Three months?" the villain asked. They pushed themselves off the doorframe and approached the hero with slow, careful steps.

"Three and a half, if you want to be nitpicky," the hero said. They didn't know what to do with the file in their hands, let alone with themselves.

"Mhmm. So, we haven't seen each other in three and a half months and now you're at my party. In my office. Cleaning."

"You got it." The hero made very awkward finger guns and winked, as if that could come close to saving them.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you?" the villain asked. They laughed softly. "That I wouldn't recognise you?"

The hero shrugged lazily. They were so fucked.

"Ahh, come on. It's not like you weren't hoping for this to happen, huh?" They leaned over the table, one hand on it, the other hiding the file behind their back. "Isn't destiny such a funny little thing?"

"Well, I was hoping to see you again. I didn't want you to steal from me, though." The villain stopped at the other side of the table and leaned forward, almost like the hero. "The file, Supes."

"I don't really like that nickname."

"Superhero. Supes. You'll manage." The villain offered their hand, expecting the hero to give them the file. "I can also call you Darling if you want me to."

Suddenly, the hero's nervousness turned into embarrassment.

"I was on sabbatical."

"Bullshit."

"I was busy...missing you?" the hero tried and at least that worked a little. The villain crossed their arms in front of their chest, raising an eyebrow.

"Go on."

"Oh, you know, I was really busy with superhero stuff. Saving people, arresting villains...and all of that just made me think of you and well, here I am!" They smiled brightly to make an attempt to trick the villain but both of them knew it was a rather sad try. "Surprise!"

"You're adorable." The villain walked around the table and the hero didn't dare to move. "Just tell me you were busy with...I don't know, a certain project I am not supposed to know about?"

Uh-oh.

"Whaat? You're crazy."

"A certain mission?"

The hero panicked. No one was supposed to know about this, least of all the villain. So, there wasn't exactly a solution except for impulsive decisions. The hero didn't always perform perfectly under pressure. Without really thinking, they grabbed the villain and kissed them hard. As a response, the villain hummed quietly. Caught off guard but definitely satisfied. The hero found it quite adorable.

They didn't really know what they were doing. The last time they had kissed anyone was for some publicity a few months ago. But this was different. They could feel their heart rage in their chest, as if they were going to explode any second now. Although they were quite experienced, they couldn't remember this ever happening.

Surprisingly, the villain not only kissed them back, but also pulled them a little closer.

For a moment, the hero lost themselves in the intimacy but then, they pulled out the handcuffs. With a click, they cuffed the villain to their own computer.

"You're evil," the villain whispered against their lips. The hero's hands were shaking. They had never kissed anyone like this. It had never felt like this before. They didn't want to think about the implications.

"I'm your Supes," the hero said. With the villain cuffed, they felt a little more confident. "Don't steal files just because you want to see me."

"Says you."

"This is really important and you should not put your nose into someone else's business."

"Again, rich coming from you," the villain said. They scrunched their nose. "Let me guess, this is too dangerous?"

"Exactly," the hero whispered. "I'll...I'll see you once this is all over."

They took one last look at the villain before they walked out of the office.

[megu-meow]

when a fire starts to burn - sukuna

sukuna x fem. reader (reader is Nanami's sister)

Part 2 of my Hockey Player Sukuna Series - Part 1

Lmk if you would like me to create a taglist! :D

Sukuna finds himself looking forward to Sunday. He suddenly considers texting you non-stop not enough. He wants to see you in person. He wants to see with his own eyes how you react to his flirtatious comments, he often wonders if they make you blush. He is convinced that they do, considering that sometimes you react with unintelligible keyboard slams. He loves it, but seeing it in person would be hundred times better.

He considers himself enchanted by you. He finds it undoubtedly easy to talk to you, he loves telling you about his day and he certainly enjoys hearing about yours. He loves how passionate you are about your job, how excited you get about office gossip, and how you never hesitate to text him whenever the smallest thing happens to you throughout the day. The hardest part is hiding the fact that he is talking to you constantly from his Captain, your brother.

"Sweetheart, when is Bambi coming?" he hears Nanami's wife, Sophia question from the kitchen while Sukuna is sitting on the couch in the living room, and his ears perk up once he hears that adorable nickname of yours being mentioned.

"She's not coming here. We're meeting at the cafe." Nanami responds as he leaves their bedroom.

"Why is that? I haven't seen her in a while, I wanted to give her the souvenir I got her from Thailand."

"She's tired and irritated, she said she wants to hear about your travels when she's in a better mood."

Sukuna's grin widens. He knows why you're tired. He knows why you're irritated. The two of you stayed up texting until 5 in the morning and your conversation ended with him calling your cat stupid, which offended you deeply. The thing is, Sukuna is severely allergic to cats so he couldn't comprehend the cuteness of your cat even after receiving ten pictures of the sleeping feline from you. And you couldn't accept him calling your child stupid either. Nonetheless, he was displeased that you were not seeing him today in person. What's worse is that they're leaving tomorrow for a road trip which is scheduled to last at least a week, if not more. He doesn't really understand why he has these feelings after two weeks of knowing you, he usually wouldn't care about something so insignificant, but he figures that you were an enigma enough to entertain these thoughts running around in his mind about you. Once Nanami leaves the house, Sukuna retreats to his momentary room and starts packing his bag for the upcoming road trip. He has gained a lot of fans after the amazing debut he had with the team and now there's a lot of pressure on him to live up to the expectations. If everything goes right, he should get a raise in a couple of months, after the regular season is over and he will be able to get his own place after that. Despite enjoying how his current situation gives him more opportunities to see you in person, Sukuna hates leeching on others, so he cannot wait to get himself out of your brother's apartment.

While you're out with your brother, you cannot stop thinking about the pink-haired player currently living with Nanami. You really wanted to see him today, but you didn't want to cause suspicions with Kento and Sophia. Those two were incredibly good at figuring out when you have a crush on someone. This is not the case here with Sukuna - or at least you try to convince yourself about that. Regardless, you're being cautious.

However, your plan is thrown out the window by Sukuna himself, as he walks into the cafe and sits down at your table. Both Nanami and you glare at him in disbelief. He ignores your confused expressions as the waiter approaches and he orders the same thing he did two weeks ago.

"What are you doing here, Sukuna?" Kento questions, clear irritation in his tone.

"I told you this before, I'm extremely superstitious. The last time we had a game on Sunday and I joined you guys for brunch, I scored five goals, may I remind you. So I decided, to include this in my game-day routine." he explains, while gesturing to the situation at hand. His eyes jump in between you and Nanami as he tries to figure out how you feel about his bluntness. "And you, Captain, cannot say anything against this, because tonight, I'm gonna win the game for us."

Nanami is speechless, while the pink-haired guy grins, his enjoyment evident. He is having too much fun with the current situation, in your opinion. Kento looks at you expectantly, he doesn't really have a say in this matter. You were the one to decide that Sunday Brunch was just for the two of you.

You started chewing the inside of your mouth nervously. Sukuna trapped you into a corner: hockey players - or professional athletes in general - were peculiar about their routines. You heard of the most unhinged pre-game routines over the years, you were aware of how much goes into the mental preparation for games. You couldn't possibly sabotage Sukuna's career with the Wizards just because you want to be selfish about the time you spend with your brother. However, this is a really bad idea. You know why the pink-haired idiot is doing this: he wants to spend time with you. But this is a dangerous game, one that your brother would surely not approve of. Sukuna is secretive. He's arrogant and full of himself. He challenges you and is constantly on a mission to irritate you. That's why you don't understand why the next words leave your mouth.

"Sure, everything for the team right?"

Sukuna grins widely, as he crosses his muscular, tatted arms in front of his chest and leans back in his chair. His dark eyes are glimmering with joy as he looks at you, winking sneakily.

"Okay, Bambi. But..." he sighs deeply "If your performance falters, Sukuna, this ends right away."

"Understood!" he agrees, saluting your brother jokingly.

That Sunday, Sukuna scores a hat trick and gets an assist. It seems like he is determined not to screw up this unique opportunity to spend meaningful time with you every fricking Sunday. After the game, Akane, Senna, and Sophia convince you to go out with them and the team as they're celebrating the goaltender's birthday. You agree, despite knowing that you are gonna regret this decision in the morning. You often join the team for these kinds of occasions considering you have a good relationship with every one of them. You're having a good time, chasing around coach Yaga's kid, who has an unmistakable bump on his forehead. He probably ran into a table or something earlier, but it doesn't stop him from running around like a maniac. Once you catch him and pick him up, you are determined to deliver him back to his mother, who is to your frustration, talking to Sukuna.

"How are your brothers? Aren't they missing you now that they're far away from you?" you don't want to listen to their conversation, but you can't really help it as you hear the question being asked.

"They're gonna be alright. It's Yuji's draft year so he was about to move away soon anyway. And Choso is Choso, he's gonna go wherever Yuji goes."

Sukuna spots you and grins, he cannot help but think that you look incredible, even with the child clinging to your side.

"Special delivery!" you exclaim as you give the child back to his mother. The toddler's energy has faltered significantly and his mother looks at you gratefully for tiring him out. She says goodbye to you, leaving you alone with Sukuna.

"You have brothers?" you ask curiously.

"It's not nice to listen to someone's conversation, you know, sweet pea?!"

"I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry your pretty little head, I don't really care honestly." he teases "Yeah, I do have brothers. Two, to be exact."

"Are you close?"

"Yeah. They're brats tho."

"Figured."

"You wound me, y/n. I'll let you know, I am the best brother ever."

"I doubt that."

"Well, I would be the best boyfriend for sure, there would be not doubt about that one." he adds, winking at you, mischief evident in his features. You can't help the blush appearing on your face and Sukuna relishes the feeling of pride that takes over him. He was right, it is 100 times better now that he can see your reactions.

"You're such a flirt, Sukuna."

"Only for you, y/n. I hope you know that."

"Yeah? Prove it."

"Well, how about you let me take you out on a date once I'm back from our road trip?" you knew he was a straightforward guy, but he never expected him to be this blunt. His eyes scan your face rapidly for any kind of reaction, you get that feeling again, that he can read your thoughts just by looking at you. You misjudged him. You thought this guy was a master of hiding his feelings, but this time around, his eyes are sparkling with hope. He doesn't seem worried or scared of rejection, which is slightly irritating, but what did you expect from a guy with a big ego like his?! "I don't have all day, y/n!" he frowns, and despite his words seeming harsh, they come out as more nervous than demanding. You have him under a spell that he cannot understand just yet, he feels the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he impatiently waits for your answer. Suddenly, you smile brightly and Sukuna's worries are forgotten just like that.

"Okay. I'll let you take me out on a date."

Sukuna is beaming with happiness, but unfortunately, it doesn't last too long. On their way to Kyoto, Kento sits beside him on the bus.

"What do you want from my sister?" he asks, his demeanor completely different from the usual.

"What?"

"You heard me! First, you get yourself invited to brunch. Then, you're openly flirting with her at Panda's party. So, tell me what you want from my sister!"

Sukuna swallows hard, his Adam's apple jumping visibly. He has to play his cards right, otherwise he will have to forget about your date. He is perceptive enough to know, that you would never go out with him if your brother didn't approve of it. He knew from day one that he had to get Kento's blessing. He considered doing the cliche things that happen in movies and books, hiding it from him and letting the whole thing explode in his face, but Sukuna has a stronger sense of justice and fairness than to betray the person who took him in like that.

"I asked her out on a date. I don't think I have to tell you, but your sister is gorgeous, intelligent, and absolutely amazing. I plan to treat her with respect, I don't want to hurt her feelings. I will not tell anyone on the team about this, you know that I do not participate in locker-room talk and I don't plan on changing that. I would like to take her out to a nice restaurant and have a great conversation with her. Those are my intentions for now."

"For now?"

"Well, I don't want to get ahead of myself. I won't say that I would like that date to be followed by a second one, because there's no guarantee that's something she would enjoy. I do believe she is special, but whatever this leads to, she will be the one to set the pace. I would never rush any woman into anything, especially not someone like y/n."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Well, I knew since December that your sister is the kind of person you meet once in a lifetime, guess I had a hunch. And my hunch was right. She deserves the world. And if she gives me a chance, that's exactly what I would like to give."

"What do you mean you knew since December? You barely moved here four weeks ago and it's April. You guys met two weeks ago."

"I spotted her at one of our games. I guessed she traveled with you guys for the Family Game."

"She did. Are you implying you had eyes for her for five months just to get my approval? Or is any of this true?" Kento questions with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm fucking offended that you would think of me so lowly that I would come up with an elaborate lie like this just to get into your sister's pants. Believe me, if that was the case, I wouldn't care a single bit about your approval." Sukuna explains.

Kento sighs, deeply. He lived with Sukuna for four weeks. The guy is insanely chill, despite his odd looks. He literally goes to practice, works out, and plays video games. He never hears him talking about anyone, especially not women, with disrespect. Hell, he never mentioned any woman before. He's been brutally honest with everyone and he's been nothing but gallant. However, Nanami knows what hockey players are like. He also heard rumors about the pink-haired prodigy from his old teammates. Thus his hesitation.

"Give me a few days. By the time we get back home, I will have your answer."

Sukuna nods understandingly. This is going to be the longest road trip of his entire life.

Part 3

[newkatzkafe2023]

B**ch I Just found out about the Jéssica Rabbit ask and now I'm wondering... How the f*ck no one yet asked for a Wukongs X (Y/N) Morticia Addams X Gomes Addams??? (Anjelica Huston & Raul Julia incarnation)

I mean It literally! Can you imagine? Wukong don't have only one hot goth-horror partner but **two** goth-horror hot partnets! They are teasing, they are flirting, they are romantic! I mean, HOW woul the Wukongs react with such intense affection from two people at the same time?

Oh boi NONE of Buddha's Forced Teachings will ever prepare him for the BI-PANIC he will receive From both😳🤯

(Lmk Wukong) Noooooooooo because you right he Fairly survives you, but now he has to deal with your boyfriend Gomez!!! the man would Romance Circles around him!!!! Gomez will have many pet names for him in many languages, and you would translate so he would understand. Then don't get me started on the cuddle parties as you would purr in a gentle tone, and Gomez would kiss him on his paw and up his arm. If it wasn't for his immortality, Wukong would be dead by now for all you guys teasing.

(HIB Wukong) WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING TO HIM?!?!?😆 he would have met you after the fight with Hun Dun and his army, and what got his attention was that you caught Luier when he was knocked off the cliff. You ask him, "Is this little boy yours dear?? Which he was grateful for and said yes, but then he noticed that silly girl was missing, and that's when your boyfriend at the time, Gomez, stepped in, holding silly girl Securely in his arms. Wukong was grateful to both of you but wondered what both your attentions were, and he was quick to learn them. He didn't expect Gomez to flirt and attack him with nicknames while receiving cuddles and weird gifts from you. Oh man, This was a trap wasn't it😮

(NR Wukong) He still refuses to this day to admit that Gomez had him blushing a lot. He was flirting with you at a club first as you were a hot goth lady. He was trying to woo you over, but a few minutes later, a just as hot goth man came and out flirts him speechless. Then you introduce Gomez, your boyfriend, to him, and you both flirt and romance him with drinks and pet names, and you have then have the nerve to tease him. Man, he did not expect any of this tonight, and he's now wondering if this was a good idea in of itself.

(MKR Wukong) You and Gomez would be his to hot goth cheerleaders, always cheering him on in his battles. The two of you would even join him in the fight to aid him and offer assistance since he couldn't be having fun by himself😆. He normally expects affection from you, but then comes Gomez, your boyfriend, and he was head over heels in love with Wukong. Wukong was buffering terribly as Gomez didn't waste time romancing him, which he didn't expect. He would be in so much unknown territory that it wouldn't be funny anymore.

(Netflix Wukong) He doesn't know how any of this happened. I mean, he tends to get into all sorts of trouble, but none of it ever lends him to really hot goth. Slightly-older demons. Wukong would at first bask in your attention and care as he should. Then he goes and meets your just as hot boyfriend Gomez, and he's back to being confused and wondering if you were some kind of honey trap. In the end, he had 2 for the price of one as you and Gomez romance, teasing and smothering him in love.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🌹🗡

[kokabeeeel]

"do you remember our first kiss?" sam asks one day; the two of them curled up together on one of the reading chairs in the library.

he doesn't expect dean to remember his first kiss, but theirs must mean something at least.

"sure i do." and sam hates the way that he's surprised; hates that after all this time he still finds things to doubt his brother on.

he plays it smoothly: tightening his grip on dean's hip - the good one even though he will pinch dean's bad one when he's getting on everyones nerves - and pressing his head further into his shoulder. "that's cool."

"did you really think i wouldn't?"

sam knows every part of dean; all his mannerisms and quirks, how there is no fooling him because dean knows sam just the same.

sam still shrugs his shoulders though.

"sammy." he can't find himself to look dean in the eye, even when dean tilts his chin to face him, he closes his eyes. "look at me, please baby."

he caves, because he always caves when it comes to dean. he's weak.

"it was the middle of summer in 'nighty-nine; you had been sixteen for two months." it was; he had been, it had all felt like a late birthday present. "dad was working some case, so you and i were stuck in some motel in hermann missouri."

sam scrunched his nose up as he recalled the mysterious stain on one of the beds, and the way the entire town stunk of sausage twenty-four seven.

"it was pretty bad, wasn't it?" he's glad that dean feels the same way about that small town. thinking about it, sam doesn't think they've ever gone back there.

"we were sitting on one of the beds, you were complaining about how your bed was the one with the stain, how we should swap - which then turned into how we should share." dean shakes his head but sam can see the fond smile on his face. "you were so dramatic; throwing yourself onto my lap, hands over your eyes, kicking your legs-"

"i was not kicking my legs!"

"oh, yes- yes you were, sammy, almost hand to grab them to keep you steady." sam groans, because yes whilst he was being dramatic and throwing a tantrum only a teenager can throw, he certainly wasn't doing that. "oh, i'm sorry, i thought we were going down memory lane."

he feels the kiss dean leaves in his hair; tiny fourteen-year-old sam who just discovered his feelings for his brother swears to never wash his hair again. "you can skip that part."

"fine, fine, princess." we warms with the nickname. "as i was saying, you had thrown yourself onto my lap, and although your hands were over your eyes, i could've sworn you had started to cry." he had been.

"i felt bad, you know, felt as if i wasn't doing a good job at being an older brother."

"you called me annoying."

he felt dean chuckle before he heard it. "well, if the shoe fits, sammy."

"just carry on with the story, jerk."

"you interrupted me, bitch." and sam supposes dean has a point. "can i continue, or are there other points that need correcting?"

"you were skipping details, de, i thought you said you remembered it." sam can tell by dean's hold on him tightening that he knows sam's being a tease.

"i'll show you remembering."

sam stops him before their lips can meet. "i was promised a story, de." it almost gives sam whiplash how much it reminds him of being five and begging dean to read him to sleep.

"tease." dean whispers against his lips and sam only smiles. "blah blah, thought you were crying, yada yada yada, i pulled your hands away from your eyes and i just- i can't explain it, sammy, but it was like all those moments in romance movies where: time slows, the people around them begin to blur until it's just the two lovers, that filter comes into play... it was all that and so much more, squashed into one feeling."

sam recalls the butterflies that entered his stomach as he peered up at his brother, only to see him looking down at him.

eye contact.

"i called out to you, i said: 'sammy' and you nodded." dean's voice had been so soft back then. "you nodded and then i asked you-"

"have you kissed anyone before."

dean nodded his head. "and when you said no, i asked: 'would you mind if i was your first?' and you just smiled at me."

"well, i had been in love with you for two years at that point." because he had been; at least two years he had been conscious of that love.

"i didn't know that, though, so i asked you again- i kept asking you."

"until i pulled you down by your collar and shut you up."

"yeah, yeah you did."

"the fact i still have to do that."

"now hang on a min-"

gripping dean by his collar, sam turned his head so he could connect their lips.

feeling dean smile, sam returned it; it made it hard to kiss but there were plenty of other times they could get hot and heavy, this was just a simple trip down memory lane.

[cambion-companion]

I cannot concentrate on my work (ironically as a TA writing up my phd thesis) because I read your intelligence 8 tav x raphael fics and now I am shaken to the core and all I wanna do is daydream about being a clueless little slut in the house of hoep

please saer can I have some more

hahaha I'm so glad that brain worm took root, intelligence 8 Tav is delightful. I also wanted to incorporate this lovely ask as well and express my gratitude for the support you all have given me this month. All is well! Enjoy a drabble with a Tav/reader utterly oblivious to the true nature of a cambion...to them he's just a tiefling with wings! how cool!

Raphael + reader (gn) drabble

(I'll probably write another that's more romantic/cute but this was too funny to pass up)

"You have an uncanny talent at getting into the most outlandish situations." Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, inhaling a deep breath.

You looked around at the decadent room he'd rented for himself, steam rising from two baths and flower petals ornamenting the lush red carpet. "I wouldn't think a devil-guy would be the sort to have tulips thrown about."

"Roses." Raphael corrected, his hand clasping firm about your upper arm just in time to save you from slipping on the wet tile and braining yourself. "I would wager a hefty sum of gold your mind does not entertain too many thoughts at one time."

"Thank you." You murmured, touched. You allowed him to escort you to safety upon a chair and watched with vague interest at how his lips twisted in bemusement. "I should thank you for saving my bacon back there. Wasn't expecting to survive that. But Shart always gets Withers to bring me back when we run out of those glowy scroll things."

"I do believe I sense a migraine coming on." Raphael squeezed his eyes shut briefly before crossing to pour you both a glass of dark brown alcohol.

You took the fancy crystal glass and downed the drink with gusto, only realizing your mistake when the scorching whiskey had passed into your gullet, and you burst into a coughing fit. Raphael sighed and gave you a solid couple thumps on your back as you struggled to breath. "There now. Death by imbibing spirits too eagerly is no way to enter the afterlife. Not until you've served your purpose, at least."

"What?"

"I'm concerned for your well-being, dear."

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve. "That's really nice of you, Raph." He winced at the nickname but just barely managed to keep a pleasant neutral expression. "I don't know why everyone else threw such a fit about you, you're not a bad dude."

"I'm flattered." Raphael almost felt a sense of annoyance at how easy this was. He enjoyed a challenge, and this mortal was certainly not bringing it. He drained his glass fluidly and returned it with a clink to the table. "Now, your person is more or less stable for the time being."

You looked around, checking behind you. "What person?"

"Your body has been plucked from the peril you so naively flounced into." Raphael clarified, a slight edge to his words now, he was running low on patience. "Be a good mouse and run along, fetch me the crown and we can part ways amicably."

"I never imagined mice to be much good at fetching." You mused, rising to your feet as Raphael practically pushed you from his room. "That seems more a dog's forte. Oh, we have a most wonderful dog back at camp-"

The door closed in your face, so close it almost clipped your nose. You stared at the dark wood for a moment, then smiled and shrugged. You spoke a little louder so he would be able to hear through it. "His name is Scratch! What was I saying? Oh yes, dogs fetch crowns and balls better than mice! Maybe keep that in mind when giving people animal nicknames!"

No answer.

He must have gone to take a nap. You were sure cambions probably did that often since they seemed to act much like cats in every other way.

Smiling to yourself you departed, convinced that you and Raphael were now bosom friends.

[lcvesjj]

"I look to you and I see nothing." - Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Paring : Aaron Hotchner x reader

Prompt : based on the song “fade into you” by Mazzy Star.

Warnings : angst, breakups, no happy endings, not beta read,

A/n : this is the first part of my series of fics based on my favourite songs :) (small note that this is just my interpretation of the song!!) I'm so excited to finally be posting this <3

regular masterlist

song fics masterlist

From the bottom of your heart you really hoped it wouldn't end this way. You hoped for a happy ending like in all of the fairytales you'd always read as a young kid. But sadly those were only stories.

Sometimes life doesn't give you a happy ending- it's just like yours and Hotch’s relationship. He was your Prince Charming at first. He was the man you hoped to marry someday. But that never worked out. Your work just pulled you two apart. Since being a profiler in the FBI wasn't an easy job to do and the things you'd see daily would always leave a mark on you in some way.

Aaron tried his best to separate work from home so that he could spend more time with you and Jack- even if he saw you for most of the day since you two worked together. But it wasn't easy for him. And after a while you started to fall out of love with him, what made it worse was the fact that you knew he could feel it. Aaron saw how you'd always pull away quickly from his kisses and how you would barely cuddle with him at night. He could feel how you were drifting apart…

Some part of him knew he was also slowly falling out of love with you but he always tried to deny it and just say that it'll get better soon and that the relationship would go back to how it once was. But it never ever did.

You two kept growing further and further apart. Even if you shared a house it felt like you were both on completely different planets. Soon your coworkers also noticed it. You never allowed your personal feelings to distract your job. But it was so obvious to everyone that something was wrong between you and Aaron.

You didn't come in to work together and you stopped making Hotch coffee and just sitting in his office while you completed all of your paperwork. It was so obvious to everyone, but no one dared to say anything about it.

One late evening Hotch called you into his office. Taking a deep breath you headed into his office. Aaron was sitting at his desk and he didn't even look up at you, all he said was. “Close the door Y/l/n.”

No pet name or nickname- just your last name. You closed the door and sat down in front of his desk. “We need to talk Aaron.” You stated simply while he looked up at you. “About?” He asked in an tired and uninterested voice. 

“I think we should break up.” Sighing, you added “I'm not in love with you anymore. I've tried to convince myself that I am, but I just can't. I'm sorry Aaron. It's unfair to the both of us.” 

Hearing your words Aaron froze. He knew this day was coming but he never expected it would be this soon. He just nodded in response, “I think we should. I tried to convince myself too, but it's for the best.”

Fighting back tears you nodded and walked towards the exit of his office. “I'll pack all of your things that you left at my house and I'll bring them here.” Aaron just nodded in response. “Goodbye Aaron.” You smiled at him before walking out of his office and taking a deep breath.

Walking to your desk you grabbed your coat and stuff before leaving. Little did you know that Hotch watched as you left the bullpen. He knew it was for the best since it wasn't healthy, but it still felt so bittersweet. Even if he loved you or atleast used to, Aaron knew it was for the best for the both of you. 

[fullsunised]

ɴᴄᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ¹⁶: ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ɪɴ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟɪᴠᴇ

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ genre: fluff

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ trigger warnings: none

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ requests open

a/n: has been sitting in my drafts for the past five years, so idk what the fuck this is-

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ✧. ┊  ❝ 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗟𝗘𝗘 ❞

❝ yo, babe-❞

surprised. boy's gonna be bare surprised it would take him long to even register the fact that you two just got caught on live. you're gonna be eyeing the camera really scared because you know this would be the end.

his eyes would be on the camera, the tension would be very awkward between him and his fans. the comments flooding with questions. which he wouldn't know how to answer.

his second reaction would be to turn the live off. okay, he got caught so what is the plan of action now. both of you would probably just wait for both of your companies to either comfirm or deny it.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ✧. ┊  ❝ 𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗡 𝗛𝗨𝗔𝗡𝗚 ❞

❝angel, do you have-❞

he'd definetly eye you with wide, alarming eyes. he probably would never go live without telling you but on the rare cases he did, and you got caught you know he'd be worried.

he has no problem with you two going public but he's worried about the hate you two could supposedly recieve. you'd be frozen to scared to move just like him, your words knocked into the walls of your throat.

as soon as he recovers he'd turn it off, after offering the camera a smile. you know you're gonna get called out and disciplined for that. but you'd probably also get loads of cuddles and kisses cause he's worried about the public.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ✧. ┊  ❝ 𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗢 𝗟𝗘𝗘 ❞

❝cutie, can i borrow a shirt-❞

bro boys gonna have wide eyes. he'd awkwardly point to the camera causing you to widen your eyes as well, because how would someone notice a camera among the sheets?

he'd be looking at the comments, finding and filtering the good ones out to make himself feel better while you're still waiting there for a cue. are you meant to pretend to be a statue?

he probably then throw a shirt into your face and let you leave the room. After which, he'd probably contemplate if he should end the live or continue it.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ✧. ┊  ❝ 𝗛𝗔𝗘𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗟𝗘𝗘 ❞

❝ sunshine, would you mind if-❞

his eyes would move between you and the camera, multiple times before actually processing what just happened. you'd be standing there almost half naked, when he realises he'd throw something on your face to cover yourself up.

later he'd scroll through the comments and decide if he should involve you in the live or no- he'd probably not- nah, he'd ask you and go with what you feel like.

he'd be smirking later because he always wanted to declare you to the public as his, and it has finally happened. he would make sure his company and yours agreed to the rumour as well.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ✧. ┊  ❝ 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡 𝗡𝗔 ❞

❝baby, i think i burnt-❞

his eyes would be wide before he'd melt into a smile, seeing you all panicky and adorable. he'd pat to the space next to his on his bed and let you take a seat.

he isn't worried in the least because he trusts your fans and his fans, to keep both of you safe and let both of you love each other. it wouldn't take him a minute to start reading the comments.

throughout the whole live, he'd be holding your hand while you two read comments. while you're talking boys just gonna give you heart eyes. and vice versa.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ✧. ┊  ❝ 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗡𝗟𝗘 𝗭𝗛𝗢𝗡�� ❞

❝sugar-❞

he'd be smirking bro like he was expecting you to come into that door calling him with the nickname he adored. he'd chuckle watching your frozen self at the entrance.

if yall have been dating long, he'd snake an arm around your waist and pull you down to sit next to him? or on his lap? depends. of course, you'd be blushing cause who does that in front of a million people? but boy doesn't give a flying fuck.

he'd be smirking into the camera, showing all your fans 'she's mine now' type of vibes. you'd be over the moon reading all the lovely comments while he'd be watching you with love.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ✧. ┊  ❝ 𝗝𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 ❞

❝ji, i have something-❞

ha. boys flustered, shy, blushing, bamboozled- everything. the minute you walk in on him you know he's hiding his face. he'd be saying 'um' a lot of times trying to make the situation less awkward but doesn't work.

if you left instantly, he'd turn it off and like you know contact his members, messaging them about how he messed up' he'd just be panicking. that's when you come in and cool his emotions down.

you'll probably speak to your company, and either stay in or come out, but if you stay in you know your fans ain't believing that shit cause they have proof.

[fraeuleintaka]

I really like how Portsman's self-obsession comes through in so many different things. He seems so much more focused on sports and training than his actual job (probably because he seems very good at it). He treats his partner as an accessory who's mostly there to prop him up (giving the same nickname to all his partners as if they were pets because it "sounds better" with his own name!). He fills his entire office with his trophies and awards. (Which I also expect Sebastian (Eustace) to do until a certain incident in I2 btw.) He comes across as really friendly and chummy at first but that's only surface-level. Even with the way he "mourns" his partner: He instructs one of the forensic officers to take pictures of him saying goodbye to "Jim". He's entirely focused on looking good and looking like he cares but has zero honest interest in anyone beyond himself. In that way I also read Portsman's complimenting of Miles upon their initial meeting as his attempt of buttering him up (with the underlying thought being that Portsman himself would love to hear something similar if he were in that position) to "make friends" but with no honest intention behind it.

We don't know much about Faith and his relationship with Portsman from his perspective but the way he was killed suggests that he wouldn't expect his own partner to be corrupt or to shoot him dead should he discover it. I wonder what Faith was like and what he thought of Portsman's shadier actions (like refusing to prosecute certain cases or some evidence suddenly being missing). Their conversation in the case intro mirrors some of Miles' previous beliefs (Portsman states that he needs to get defendants declared guilty) and Faith questions how far Portsman's willing to go for that. That would imply that he has some idea about Portsman's actions not all being above board but that he's accepted what he's seen so far because he saw them as necessary or justifiable in pursuit of a "noble" goal (and not the result of corruptness that they actually were). There's also no implication (though that could be because of circumstances) that Faith really minded the way Portsman treated him. Their relationship could be read as a distorted version of Miles' & Gumshoe's own, a well-meaning and trusting detective puts his faith (ha!) in an arrogant prosecutor surrounded by rumours of forged evidence and shady dealings who doesn't treat his partner as well as he should - with Gumshoe's faith being justified because Miles is a good person at heart who corrected his wrong course while Faith's was not and ended with him being killed because Portsman is fundamentally selfish and egotistical.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 35 (Parental Guidance)

A few nights after Malcolm's visit, Heather took Ash to see his grandparents at her childhood home in Henford. On arrival, she was greeted with the joyous news that Cassandra was expecting her and River’s first child!

She let her predicament take a backseat as the family sat down to dinner, and she didn't want to tell her parents she was seriously overthinking an old tale about a curse. But as she gathered the empty plates at the end of the meal, her mother could see something was bothering her. At Daisy's urging, Heather confessed what she'd done.

"I hacked into Landgraab Systems to crash the app they stole from me, and I thought I was going to be arrested."

"Arrested?! Buttercup, what the hell were you thinking?" Her dad, Neal, tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt.

Her brother, on the other hand, offered her a fistbump. "Right on! Screw the Landgraabs."

Cassandra shook her head, but couldn't wipe the smile from her face around her husband. "River, she could have gone to prison!"

"I know it was stupid," Heather insisted. "I told the detective the truth but the Landgraabs ended up not pressing charges. Not yet, anyway."

"What do you mean 'not yet?'"

"I mean Malcolm came by the other day and offered me a deal. He'll give me 40,000 simoleons for our son if I change his last name to Landgraab and file a custody agreement. They're also willing to let me buy out the clinic if I can come up with another 175,000. But they won't sell if I don't make Ash a Landgraab."

"That's a steep price," said Daisy cautiously.

"It's a steal from the Landgraabs," her father muttered, frowning. "We don't have that kind of money."

"You helped me with the down payment for the clinic in the first place. I don't know what to do but I won't ask you that."

Her parents exchanged careful glances. "You may not want to hear this, but you cost yourself a lot of leverage and the offer may be too good to turn down," said her mother. Her father nodded reluctantly in agreement, embracing his daughter with a comforting hug.

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"You want independence from the Landgraabs financially, and this is a fair way to do it," reasoned her brother. "Besides, if Malcolm's finally ready to embrace his role as a father I think, deep down, you want that for your son, despite your own feelings about him. And why wouldn't you? We had a great dad; everyone should be so lucky! Ash, too."

Heather looked at her younger brother with a smile. "When did you get so wise?"

"You only think I'm wise because you're a butthead, Butts."

With her family’s support, she sent Malcolm the paperwork confirming their son was a Landgraab in name, and he transferred the lump sum payment as promised. ->

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NOTE: I'm really sorry to those who didn't want Heather to change his last name, but I really wanted there to be a big consequence for the hack. I wasn't feeling a prison storyline and this is the next worst-case scenario. In my head she didn't have room to negotiate after the hack (the proof exists even if Conrad chose not to reveal it, but he's too honest a cop to delete the evidence) and it was an all-or-nothing deal.

NOTE 2: I know I'm loading this story with characters but Heather is so close with her family I can't leave them behind in Gen 1, even if I wanted to. Neal gave them their nicknames when each of them were born, like a tradition, picking various plants, mostly yellow, due to yellow being one of Daisy's favourite colours. But a quick rundown on Heather and her siblings-

Heather "Buttercup" Nesbitt b. 2025 - Ash (Nesbitt) Landgraab b. 2050 (son of Malcolm) Holly "Daffodil" (Nesbitt) Bell b. 2027 m. Kristopher "Kris" Bell (son of premades Michael Bell & Cecilia Kang) River "Huckleberry" Nesbitt b. 2029 m. Cassandra Goth Hazel "Dandelion" Nesbitt b. 2033 currently dating Nicola Moody-McMillan, the daughter of premade Kim Goldbloom and a random townie. Nicola's grandfathers were Kim's adoptive dads (via MCCC), Ian Moody & Derek McMillan but they died in a riverboat cruise disaster (off-screen because the game culled them unexpectedly).

Since I put dates in to show the age differences in the siblings, for those who care it's about 2051 in game right now. Heather is 26 and Ash is not yet 2. The year won't really mean anything, it's not a historical or futuristic challenge, but I like to keep track.

Also yes I'm going for sometimes-obnoxious sibset theming with names in this save. The theme in Gen 1 was flowers and plants (Daisy was a botanist but Neal achieved Outdoor Enthusiast so he's big into nature, herbalism and sustainability as an eco-civil designer). River got his slightly off-theme name because I wanted to use it, and the River Bagley IS a prominent feature in Henford, after all! But I'm sorry about all the H names, it's a lot!

Kris & Holly and Nicola & Hazel (who looks like Heather with blue eyes and w/o glasses), since River & Cass are above:

[pseudoartistpostsstuff]

The name that i possess ends with 'matic', and is it possible for you to write a scenario with the yandere linked universe?

It's nothing too extravagant, the reader simply comes back from an unknown location after sneaking out because the chain won't let them have their alone time and they're covered in a lot of scars, some are bigger than the rest and they try their best to hide those scars as to not make the chain worry.

But alas, one of the Links hug them a few hours later and a large scar opened up and the Link saw them wince in pain.

The others notice if not immediately.

Hopefully you're alright with this, and please do take your time.

..perhaps this is extravagant.

This is a great idea! Thank you for requesting person whom I definitely do not know :]

Notes: This took a while and I'm sorry but it's finally here. I hope you'll like it.

Also, finding sweet, genderless nicknames is a pain.

That is why I declare 'doll' Twilight's favorite nickname, idc your gender or appearance, he will use it with you and that's a hill I'll die on.

TWs: Yanderism, mentions of silent treatment, cuts, wounds and scars (non graphic).

The Chain x Reader

I know I almost died but like, it's really not that deep.

As usual, the guys weren't giving you any time for yourself.

Not gonna lie, you weren't expecting love to be so suffocating.

So you made the smartest decision. You ran.

It took a while to get to the perfect moment, the guys were more tired than usual walking until it was dark and fighting moblins before setting camp for the night. It was really hard to keep yourself awake, but still, you waited until it was Wind's turn to keep watch.

Wind keeping watch at night was always something you were against, minors, even more at Wind's age, should be able to have at the very least 8 hours of sleep, and as a self proclaimed older sibling you stand by that.

And technically, by doing what you were about to do, you were going to protest against it.

The boy was sitting on a rock, the tip of his sword was buried in the ground and he rested his arms on the handle, it didn't seem comfortable in any way but by the way his eyes were half lidded and his blinks seemed to last a bit too long you guessed it was comfortable enough for his sleep deprivation to do it's job.

You sat up in your bed roll and approached him, sitting by his side on the rock, almost falling off the edge.

Convincing him to let you take his place wasn't a hard task, you doubted he could even recognize who you were or his surroundings, the fact you tried your best to mimic a deeper voice must've also had something to do with it.

Wind immediately fell asleep when he laid down in his bed roll. You got up and immediately ran, your bag wasn't too big in favor of traveling easily so it wasn't hard to take it with you, not slowing you down in any way. Since you got in here, you also collected enough rupees to buy a small knife and still have money left. It was small enough to fit in your boot easily, so that the other's wouldn't know you had it.

Your heart almost dropped to your stomach one day when Wolfie came close to finding it by sniffing around.

You could only hope the Link's would be too occupied with trying to find you to be angry at Wind.

You didn't stop walking until it was almost dark again, you slowed down to walking a few times, but never completely stopped. Traveling everyday clearly has helped your stamina a lot since the last few months.

You stayed in the wilderness, staying in a village or town would be incredibly stupid, even if you hid the villagers there would tell them your location.

At most, you'd stay hidden a week, if you were being optimistic. The Chain wouldn't stop until they found you and they were… Well, themselves. That was more than enough to find you.

There was also Wolfie, he would probably be the first to find you and undoubtedly be worried for you, he'd end up alerting the boys of where you were.

However, despite your tries, there was something you weren't expecting.

A blood moon.

God must really hate you.

The woods you hid in were infested with monsters, even before the blood moon you had a few encounters with one or two of those disgraceful slimes called chuchus. Now, making your way back to the camp, your body was littered with wounds, some were already scarring while others were very much new, having just barely stopped bleeding.

Of course, you couldn't just let them see those scars, you didn't want them to go on a rampage again or worsen your protection more than they already would right after you got back, you also didn't want the silence treatment punishment thing they did, no thanks, you knew not interacting with anyone would annihilate your sanity and you would like to stay sane until it you were able to go back home.

Some scars were easier to hide than others, most could be hidden by your clothes, some you had to go to the closest village to quickly buy new articles of clothing, like long gloves. While you were there you made sure to also buy more gauze, the amount you had was used to cover your worst wounds. Turns out bokoblin's claws were sharp as shit.

Coming back you felt slightly pathetic for not being able to stay off their tracks for too long, but also very victorious for being able to stay off their tracks for that long. It was a victory, even if small.

The boys must've not expected you to come back because the camp was empty when you came back, even though all their things were still there.

You thought they wouldn't come back for the night when finally you heard lots of steps coming towards your direction in the distance, the moon was already high in the sky by now. Wolfie was the first you saw, while the others came from the direction of the village closest to the camp, Wolfie came from the woods.

Wolfie was static to see you, he tried to jump on you a lot of times, causing you pain, your pained expression made him slow down, choosing to cuddle close to you instead of jumping. He sniffed your forearm as you petted him, he tried to pry your gloves off with his teeth, you prevented that from happening by changing the place you were petting until he stopped, which he eventually did, deciding to lick your wounds through your gloves. Kinda gross but cute at the same time, thankfully, those scars were from the chuchus, so his licking sooted the burning. You wondered how wolves could just sniff wounds out.

The Chain found you just like that, cuddling with Wolfie as he licked your wrist.

They all flocked to where you were sitting, Hyrule hugged you from behind, standing on his knees. His arms around your neck, thankfully missing your wounds. Wolfie growled at Warriors as he pulled you to his lap, interrupting your's and Hyrule's hug and holding you close, also hugging your shoulders.

No words were exchanged during each hug, each of them closed their eyes tightly, you couldn't ever imagine how scared they were over your sudden disappearance, enough so that their first reaction was heartfelt hugging and feeling you close rather than scolding.

You were surprised at your luck, and scared for the moment someone would inevitably wrap their arms around your waist.

Seems like you are a very lucky person.

After being hugged by everyone, every single one of them missing your worst wounds and scars somehow, you received a well expected lecture from Time, Sky and Hyrule shaked their heads sternly when you looked at them for help, much as one would do in response to a child looking for a way out of the consequences for misbehaving. In fact, every single one of them were looking at you seriously for doing something like that. If Time wasn't repeating over and over again that what you did was dangerous and never supposed to happen again the lecture would've taken 5 minutes at maximum.

"You are lucky you're not hurt."

You huffed, as if you couldn't handle it, you're alive aren't you? Sure, extremely hurt, but alive either way.

Not like you could let them know you went through something actually dangerous more than once in those last 2 days.

As Time finally got tired of scolding you, everyone started preparing to sleep, you looked around, whenever Time lectured anyone Twilight would be there doing the same thing. This time, just the one he would be even more present, he is just missing? Where is he?

One or two hours had passed before the missing hero reappeared. By the time he was back, the night was slowly turning into day again, the black sky gaining a purple hue, hints of orange doting the horizon. The moon was almost gone.

In all truth, Twilight never left. Wolfie, who was cuddling right by your side the entire night, shifted into the familiar form of the man. Hands, which before were pawns wrapped around your waist gently, so as to not wake you up. The movement proved to be unsuccessful, as soon as his hands grazed your stomach your entire body jolted, your eyes opening as your tired mind was forced out of it's sleepy state by pain. The man behind you tensed up, sitting up and immediately checking you over with worried eyes. Wild, who had taken the dawn shift of watching over you and the others, had his mind alarmed, the topic of what breakfast would be changing to you, what was going on with you?

Time, who already found himself in a light state of sleep, not only because of the hour (waking up early became an habit since his duty first appeared) but also after your recent 'adventure', sat up in his bed roll, drowsily blinking away tiredness while trying to understand what was happening.

By now you had already woken up completely, trying and failing to assure the two frantic Twilight and Wild that you were fine, you only had a nightmare.

"What happened?" Time asked, approaching you three. His regular expression, the mix of stern, annoyed and tired, already on his face.

"Nothing happened, infact, I don't have a clue on why these guys are making such a big deal out of-"

"What. Happened." Time asked again, turning to Wild and Twilight this time as if to direct the question to them, all the while kneeling on your other side and checking you for injuries, ignoring the annoyed face you were making.

"Twilight touched their waist and they flinched."

"They didn't just flinch, it woke them up." Twilight added to Wild's response. "I was being gentle."

"This is unnecessary. You guys are overreacting."

"Don't even start," Time lifted his eyebrow, again throwing you that look he knew worked on everyone. Even you, much to your displeasure. "Just because you apologized and promised you wouldn't do it ever again doesn't make you gain any of my trust back. You're still on thin ice."

You rolled your eyes as soon as you thought he looked away.

"I saw that." He scolded, flicking your tight, making you hiss out of surprise and out of the thin pain that came with it. You also made sure your "ow" sounded as offended as possible.

How could he see that well? The old man didn't even have both of his eyes!

"Also, I don't think it was when I touched their waist, I think it was when I touched their stomach." Twilight pondered for a second.

Time returned his eye (the good one) to yours, gesturing to your stomach.

"Let me see."

"No."

"Not a question. Lift your shirt." He inhaled sharply as you obliged, chewing your cheek with an expression of guilt on your face. Time closed his eye tightly and furrowed his eyebrows, one of his hands went up to comb his hair back as his jaw tensed, clenching his teeth.

"Look, I couldn't have known a blood moon was coming and-" Twilight interrupted you and you tried to make a lame excuse.

"I knew it. Wild, wake Hyrule up." Wild, who seemed worried over you, didn't protest against Twilight's authoritarian tone, one who mirrored Time's almost perfectly.

"I knew I should have asked more-" Time pushed himself to get up, restlessly moving around, his other hand went up to his hair as well, pulling his scalp a little.

"Time-"

He sighed, his hands furiously rubbing his closed eyes.

"I'll be back before noon." He declared, making his way to his abandoned bed roll, hastily putting his boots before getting up again and scooping up his sword and shield, his hand once more pushing his hair off his face, he stopped before you and Twilight, pointing a finger towards you. "Don't you even think about leaving the camp." Was all he said before going in the direction of the woods you had told them yesterday you had hid in.

"He talks like I would be able to" You scoffed.

"You are in no place to complain, doll." Twilight took Time's place in scolding you, like he would have done last night if he wasn't missing.

You would have questioned him about it if Hyrule had not ran towards you out of nowhere.

"Why didn't you tell me? I thought you trusted me!" Hyrule's fingers trembled as he blinked away tears, guessing by his reaction, Wild must've awakened the poor man already scaring him by saying you were almost dying or something. Poor dude seemed to be on the verge of crying.

He reached out to you, his fingers starting to glow slightly as you exposed your scarred stomach again, feeling warmth and the strange feeling of skin and muscle coming back together, not only on your stomach but on most of your wounds, only missing small ones that had already healed somehow. You reached down to unwrap the red bandages, only partially surprised at your completely healed stomach, having already seen Hyrule do the same thing all the time on the guys around you.

"Just don't do this again okay? Please. I don't mind healing you, but you scared me too much." He smiled sadly at you, a hint of tiredness on his face. This made you feel even worse for him, he literally just woke up and already got half of his energy drained.

You shifted in place to hug him, in return he draped his arms around your newly healed waist, his face fell on the crook of your neck, his breaths coming out in relaxed puffs.

"I think he fell asleep." You whispered, looking over at Twilight who seemed to only barely keep his rage restrained, already moving to get up from where he was, at your side.

"The sun is not even visible yet, I can understand why." Wild strained his eyes to look at the dark horizon, the only hints of the time being the lack of moon, the small hues of orange and the early singing birds who had just woken up. You followed his eyes, blinking with force, recognizing your sleepiness returning as your pain had disappeared.

"There is still time for you to sleep more, if you want." Twilight appeared in your line of vision again, as geared up as Time was when he left just minutes ago. "I'm gonna catch up with the old man, I'm sure you know what to do Wild." The mentioned man nodded in response, both of them glancing at you for a moment before Twilight resumed his steps towards the woods. "Alright then, I'll be back before dusk."

You sighed, gently placing Hyrule at your side as you fell back onto your bed roll, feeling him place his arms around you again as you did, a smile on his face. You heard Wild murmur something along the lines of "lucky" before getting up and moving to wake up Legend, who had the next shift.

You fell back asleep, deciding to worry later about the reaction of the rest, because it certainly would happen as soon as they woke up.

Oh, and Time's and Twilight's reaction wasn't completely done, they just had 'business' to deal with first.

You could only hope the silence treatment wouldn't last longer than it did last time.

[amazingmsme]

So What’s the Big Deal?

AN: this is for that one anon a while back that was asking for more wwdits fics, the nuzzling prompt was perfect for namdermo fluff! Hope y’all enjoy, here’s day 8!

Guillermo thought that maybe, just once, it might be different. His... he was hesitant to use the word friends right now, so let's just say his roommates had been fairly reasonable with him lately, especially in comparison to his early years as a familiar. Nandor wasn't completely distant anymore, and he occasionally showed some semblance of affection. Colin Robinson didn't always drain his energy, and even Lazlo and Nadja started to use his real name!

... Most of the time. But Gizmo wasn't the worst, as far as nicknames were concerned.

He let out a deep sigh. Did Gizmo even qualify as a nickname? That sort of thing had always seemed like a fun in joke, where your friends gave you a cooler name than your own because they liked you, or it fits your personality better. They called him Gizmo because they couldn't bother to learn his real name for the longest time.

Most of the time he was the butler, the babysitter, the maid, but sometimes, they really made him feel like their pet.

Lazlo wouldn't stop fucking whistling at him. He had just told him he was busy, and now he was determined to make him drop his current task just to make him start a new one.

"Oh my god, what?" he cried out in frustration.

"Oh good, those ears of yours do work."

"Did you need something Lazlo?" It was best to cut to the chase with this lot.

"I do indeed! You see, a very large, very dead rat appears to have crawled inside the engine of my automobile, and you get to fish it out!" he finished with a smile, poking Guillermo's arm for emphasis.

"Ew, no! I'm busy, Nandor told me to have this done by the time he gets back. And besides, I have an order I need to go pick up."

"Come on Gizmo, it'll only take a second!" Lazlo insisted.

"I said no!"

"That's the spirit! Follow me!" He completely ignored Guillermo's protests and drug him away by the wrist, leading him to the garage.

~~~

It wasn't a rat, and it definitely wasn't dead. The possum had sprung to life as soon as Guillermo tried to lift it by its tail. It hissed and thrashed in his grip, scratching all the way up his arm, slicing through the thin rubber gloves he was wearing. He yelled out in pain and dropped the creature straight back into the engine. It flopped around on the inner mechanics before launching itself straight at Guillermo.

Lucky, he was able to catch it mid air just before it could latch onto his face and tear him to shreds. It still reached out for him, hissing and snarling in his face and lunging against his grasp.

Lazlo did nothing but watch as he wrangled the possum into a trash can and carry it outside. Okay, he held the door open for him, but he literally did nothing to actually help.

He didn't even say thank you!

Guillermo tried to calm himself down as he walked to the nearby bakery. The poor cashier gave him a concerned look when he walked in covered in bloody scratches.

"Possum," he explained bluntly and she nodded in understanding.

"Ah. Well, I hope this makes up for it!" she chirped in her customer service voice. He smiled politely.

"You and me both." He grabbed his bag and stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.

“Thank you, have a nice day!"

"Thanks, you too."

"And happy birthday!"

Guillermo paused with his hand on the door. That was the first time he'd heard that today.

"Thank you." He quickly rushed out before he burst into tears from a perfectly normal interaction. He didn't expect those words to hit him so hard, but hey, it's been a rough day.

He was relieved when he got home. He wanted nothing more than to rush off to his room before any of the vampires saw him and demanded his attention. Thankfully, no one seemed to be awake yet. What the hell, it was his birthday, a little pizza wouldn't hurt. It was still a few hours before sunset, so the delivery guy should be fine.

He placed his order and began the arduous task of deciding what to watch. He browsed through the downloaded movies on his laptop, pausing when he came across Sixteen Candles. How fitting...

He always did like that movie. And it at least felt festive for the occasion.

He clicked play and nestled into a hoard of blankets and pillows, keeping an eye out for his delivery.

He was halfway back to his room, pizza box in hand when he ran into Nandor, still in his sleeping robes.

"Guillermo, there you are!"

He was so close to the freedom of his room.

"Hello Master."

"I heard about what happened with the giant rat," Nandor began in his own form of apology.

"It was a possum."

"Same thing. Are you okay?" he asked, tilting his head as he took a step forward.

"Yeah, I just finished cleaning the scratches." Guillermo tried to step around him. "But I'm actually watching a movie right now, so..." he trailed off, excusing himself.

"Really? What's it about?" Nandor asked, deciding to follow him to his room. Well, if he really wanted to know...

"This girl's whole family forgets her 16th birthday, which is, like, a big deal for humans, all because her older sister's getting married the next day. But hey, at least they had a good excuse." His tone was a little harsher than necessary, and he made his annoyance clear when Nandor invited himself into his room.

"Oh please, I'm sure someone remembered," he said flippantly. Guillermo barked out a laugh.

"That's rich, coming from you."

Nandor's brows knit together in concern. "Guillermo, what's wrong?"

"You really don't know what day it is, do you?" he asked, hanging on to the last bit of hope.

"... Tuesday?"

"It's my birthday!" Guillermo didn’t like how long it was taking him to respond.

"So, like, what's the big deal?" God, he hated just how clueless Nandor could be.

"Get out," he said calmly, pointing at the door.

"Wait-" Nandor called out, and Guillermo looked at him expectantly. "Is it really your birthday?" he asked sheepishly.

He nodded, arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah, it is. But I know you guys don't really care about that sort of thing, so it's fine." He turned away, grabbing a slice of pizza to indicate the discussion was over.

So why was he still standing there?

"Guillermo... Are you mad at me?" Of course that’s all he cared about. And he really didn't want to deal with this right now.

"No Master, I'm just tired. So can I please just watch my movie?"

Nandor didn't know what to think. Sure, Guillermo said he wasn't angry, but his whole demeanor said otherwise. He was hesitant to leave if he upset him.

"Of course! You know, I too enjoy a good moving picture," Nandor wandered closer to the bed, peering down at the screen. Guillermo sighed.

"Do you want to watch it?"

"Thank you, I'd love to!" Nandor exclaimed and immediately flopped down next to Guillermo, taking up a fair amount of space on the bed. He adjusted himself until he was comfortable before resting his chin on his shoulder to see the screen better.

Well, maybe this day wasn't the worst.

He hadn't been very far into the movie, so he played it from the beginning for Nandor's sake. This almost felt... nice. Normal. But in the back of his mind, he knew Nandor was only doing this because he felt guilty.

The vampire shifted in his seat, hugging him closer and nuzzling into his neck slightly. Guillermo tried to scrunch his neck, lips twitching into a smile. Nandor's beard was scratching against a particularly sensitive spot right behind his ear. Finally, it grew to be too much,  and Guillermo had to shove him away.

"Stohop! That really tickles!"

The silence that followed sent a chill up Guillermo's spine.

"I'm sorry, it really what?" he asked deviously, flashing his fangs with an evil grin. Before his familiar could answer properly, he buried his face in his neck, drawing out a shrill squeal instead.

"Nohohothihing! Just forget ihihit!" he cried frantically, desperately clawing at Nandor's arms wrapped around him. That rough beard returned to the soft skin of his neck, and a hand flew up to hide his blushing face. He wasn't even facing him, but he felt he needed to hide.

"Nooo, I don't think sooo!" he cooed directly in Guillermo's ear; the hot breath and rough stubble sent goosebumps across his whole body. He was downright mortified when he felt fangs trace and nibble just below his jaw, and he immediately snorted.

"Nohoho, plehehease!" he whined as Nandor wrestled his arms down to his sides, leaving him utterly defenseless. He began nuzzling against the nape of his neck and behind his ears, growling and nipping just to hear the frantic jump in laughter each time.

"What an adorable weakness for you to have! You better hope Nadja and Lazlo don't find out about this, they love themselves a helpless, ticklish neck," he taunted, and Guillermo could practically hear his grin.

Fuck. "Dohohon't you dahare tehehell them!" he tried to sound threatening, but it wasn't coming across as planned.

"Don't worry, I don't plan on sharing," he set his worries at ease, but he honestly didn't know if that would be worse.

"Nahahandor! Just lehehet mehe gohohoho!"

"It's funny, hundreds of men said the exact same thing, and it never saved them. Then again, they weren't laughing like you are."

"Just kihihill mehehehe!" he yelled dramatically, and Nandor couldn't help but chuckle along.

"On your birthday? I couldn't! But you might wish you were dead by the time I'm through with you!" he threatened.

"M-mahaster, plehehease!" Guillermo could only squeal and thrash as he was tickled from behind. His pleading went ignored, and Nandor nuzzled deeper against his neck, causing him to let out an adorable gasp. His nose scrunched and he snickered and shook his head back and forth.  The not quite so unbearable torture persisted.

He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He couldn't believe Nandor actually felt bad for forgetting his birthday, and was trying to cheer him up. He could deny it all he wants, but Guillermo knows that's why he's really doing this. Then again, his master loves having any kind of power over someone, so he'll take that with a grain of salt. But he was being gentle with him; he was intentionally being playful. In his fuzzy, giggly mindset, that had to mean something.

And then curious, probing hands slipped under his sweater, and all those nice thoughts flew out the window because now Nandor was kneading his hips and belly. He barked out a surprised laugh, hands flapping by his sides where they were pinned. He managed to slip an arm free, weakly tugging at the invading hands.

"Uh oh, we can't have that," Nandor muttered as he pinned his arm above his head. Guillermo shook his head frantically as nervous giggles spilled past his lips.

"Nohoho! Nahandor, plehehease! It tickles!" he begged, and he could feel the smile pressed against his neck stretch wider.

"Oh my sweet Guillermo, the real tickling hasn't even started yet," he taunted, relishing in the choked yelp that caught itself in his victim's throat.

He didn't have time to question what that meant before he was screaming in laughter. Nandor hugged him closer as one hand dug in his exposed pit while he blew a relentless onslaught of raspberries on his neck.

This was shaping up to be a long night.

[batneko]

Can you believe I've been drawing the Undead Kingdom AU for three years? I sure can't!

But since I actually remembered in time to prepare something this year, I present to you an AU of an AU:

Squire Beauto

(in which Amai never gave in to the curse, never reinvented himself, and yet finds himself on a remarkably similar path) rated: T for swearing and innuendo words: 12,317 tw: bullying, light bdsm, religious baggage

"Come on, Dogface! We're burning daylight!"

This was not, in fact, true. The sun hadn't even fully crested the horizon, and the one the knights called "Dogface" had been up since long before. He ate, bathed, and dressed alone, then woke the young squire to serve breakfast to the knights and pack up the camp.

Now he finished loading the last pack on the last horse, hitched his own bag over his shoulders, and followed the rest of the group. Unnoticed, the crows followed him.

The tallest knight (a bit shorter than Dogface without his boots) shifted his armor as he walked. “You left my straps too loose again. We're not all as porky as you, Dogface.”

The other two knights chuckled, though both of them looked heavier than Dogface. Fighting in full armor took a lot of brute strength, and most knights tended on the stocky side. The fact that Dogface was being singled out for his weight said far more about the speaker than it did the target.

There was a pause of several seconds. Dogface wore an old-fashioned bucket helmet that completely covered his head. No expression could be seen, and when he spoke there was nothing but polite subservience in his voice. “I see. I won’t do that next time.”

They kept walking, the crows kept following, and Psykos kept watch through their eyes.

“They're all the way from R Kingdom,” Psykos said, keeping her eyes on her crystal. “You can tell by the accent, bunch of hicks.”

“Why would knights from R Kingdom come here?” Fubuki asked, leaning over her shoulder. Her hand was cool even through the fabric of Psykos' dress.

“The usual,” Psykos said. But she added, quietly, “They prayed before their meal.”

“Oh.”

More than one religion decried the undead as unholy. Only a few decided that meant all undead should be unilaterally wiped out. Psykos would have expected more hymns and solemnity if that was what this group was really after, but she was sure they wouldn't have traveled so far without believing they were on a mission from their god.

“Will you sing for us, Squire Beauto?” the young squire asked. So that was the older one's name. Now she could stop thinking of him by that ridiculous nickname.

“Yeah, Dogface,” the tallest knight said. “Give us a song.”

If he chose a hymn, Psykos would stop observing now and rally the army.

Beauto didn't audibly sigh, but his shoulders (already stooped) rose and then slumped. After a moment, his voice came from behind the helmet.

Not a hymn. A ballad. One of those old ones about jealousy and betrayal and murder. Squire Beauto sang with a strong clear voice – a tenor, unless Psykos missed her guess – and he was good. Ballads weren't designed to strain a singer's talents, but he nailed every note. Psykos would have paid money for this.

“They brought a bard?” Fubuki asked. She couldn't see through the crystal as well as Psykos could, but the sound carried.

“No, that's a squire.”

“He missed his calling, then.” She straightened up. “Shame if we'll have to kill him.”

“I know.”

***

They reached the castle shortly before noon. There had been one stop for rest and food an hour earlier, but "rest" applied only to the knights, of course. Beauto and Atama were expected to serve them just like always. As soon as Beauto sat down for a moment he had Sir Kakato barking at him, "Come on Dogface, don't be so lazy!"

It was always the same. If he sat, he was lazy. If he ate in front of others, he was a glutton. If he slipped up even slightly in keeping himself and his clothes spotlessly clean, he was a slob.

It was better now, with the helmet, but the knights still knew. Kakato still knew.

So Beauto was tired and hungry and ready to kill someone when he arrived at the castle of the undead king. It was almost disappointing when there was no one to try and stop them.

"Doesn't look like much," Sir Onaka said.

Beauto didn't agree, but he knew what he meant. "I doubt this was the main palace," Beauto said. "I think that got destroyed when the last prince cursed the country."

Onaka stared at him for a few seconds, and Beauto added, "Sir."

Kakato clicked his tongue. "Mind your manners, squire," he said. "Your behavior reflects on me, remember?"

All the more reason to ignore propriety, Beauto thought, but it wasn't true. Nobody had ever blamed Beauto's behavior on anyone but himself. He even got blamed for things he'd been nowhere near. He even got blamed for getting attacked.

“I know, Sir Kakato,” Beauto said. “I will be mindful.”

They entered the castle by the front doors. There may have been a side or back entrance once, but the ground around the castle had risen up in jagged points, blocking off all but the face of the building. It wasn't built to be defensible but it certainly was now.

The entry hall was wide, tiled in cracked slate covered with random carpets. Sir Onaka drifted to the side and pulled aside a curtain, whistling at the painting behind it.

It was a hunting scene, deer running across green hills. No part of the country looked like that now.

"Gold frame," Onaka said.

"Look at this," Sir Tsume called from the other side.

She'd found a small table with a basket full of flowers and a vase waiting to be filled. The staff must have fled without finishing their tasks when they heard knights were coming.

Sir Tsume picked up the vase. "Porcelain," she said, tapping it with a fingernail, "the good stuff."

The three knights exchanged glances. Beauto did his best to ignore them.

"Let's split up," Tsume said. "Do a little… scouting."

Beauto was instantly disappointed; Tsume had the most level head among the three of them, and he'd been hoping she'd stop the others if they suggested the same thing.

"Works for me," Kakato said, grinning.

"Figure out what to grab on the way out, and we'll meet up at the throne room."

"I'll take the squires, you two stick together?"

"Works for me," Tsume said, and Onaka nodded.

Beauto said nothing. What was the point?

When the group found a doorway they made the split; Kakato in the lead, Squire Atama sticking close to him, and Beauto with his hand on his sword hilt bringing up the rear. They walked for some time without encountering any people, living or dead. Occasionally they heard footsteps fading into the distance, occasionally they encountered a locked door, but mostly it was hallway after hallway.

They must have chosen the wrong direction, because the doors themselves got less and less ornate the further they walked. These were the areas where the servants traveled, the part of the castle where work got done.

Beauto was intimately familiar.

“Nothing,” Kakato said, and spat on the floor.

It was stone tile, with mismatched carpet runners in the center of each hall. If his spittle had hit the carpet Beauto may very well have slugged him, damn the consequences.

“Let’s go back,” Kakato said, and Beauto followed without a word.

They took a different path this time, back into the palatial part of the palace. Here, the carpets were coordinated and embroidered - though Beauto noticed they seemed very worn. Old, then. Cleaned so often their colors had faded and fibers had begun to wear away.

The wall hangings (and there were many) were newer. In a large building like this there were often drafts no matter how many fires were lit, and thick fabric trapped heat. It helped that they were beautiful, rich velvet, made from silk in the old style unless Beauto missed his guess. He found himself reaching out as they passed to touch a particularly charming drape embossed with stylized wheat, only remembering to pull his hand back a moment before his fingers reached the fabric. He was always lectured when he dared to put his hands on anything expensive. As if he would dirty it by his very presence.

Funny. If the kingdom was full of undead, why did they work so hard to keep the castle warm?

A scream ripped through the air, and Beauto had his sword half-pulled before he’d fully turned. Kakato was only a second behind him, shoving him aside as he sprang into action.

Except… there was nothing there. No one, living or dead. Just Beauto and Kakato.

Just Beauto and Kakato.

“Sir, where’s Atama?” Beauto said.

“What?” Kakato’s head whipped back and forth. “I thought you were watching him!”

“I-” He’d been distracted. Lost in thought and dreams of luxury. “I didn’t-”

“Fuck,” Kakato said. Vulgar as ever. “Well it’s too late for him. Let’s find the others and kill that monster they call a king. That’ll be a fitting tribute to Squire Atama.”

“He’s not dead,” Beauto said through gritted teeth. “Not until we’ve seen a body.”

“He’s a goner, Dogface! There’s no point!”

Beauto snapped his sword back into its sheath. “I’m going to have a look.”

“Fine, it’s your funeral.” Kakato waved one hand as he turned. “We’ll get all the glory for wiping out that monstrosity, and you’ll lose whatever chance you had of finally getting knighted.”

Beauto stopped.

He clenched his fists, his jaw, his whole body so tight he was certain he was trembling. Right now it was just the two of them. If he were to beat Kakato to a pulp - or less - no one would ever know it was Beauto. It would be blamed on the undead, doing what everyone expected of them.

He heard the clank of Kakato’s armored boots walking away, unbothered, probably barely even remembering what he’d said. He certainly didn’t seem to think about any of it before he spoke. He couldn’t know how much it rankled, every single day, to serve a knight a year younger than him.

Beauto stepped forward, in the direction of the scream.

Atama wasn’t far. Almost as soon as Beauto set foot in the last servant’s hallway they’d left, the boy ran straight into him. He came away with a scratch on his chin from Beauto’s old layered plate armor, but otherwise seemed unharmed.

“What’s wrong?” Beauto asked. “What happened?”

“There was a skull!”

Beauto stared at him. He was grateful every day for the helmet that hid his face, but never moreso when he was sure he couldn’t keep his expression neutral.

“That’s all?” Beauto said. “This castle is overrun with undead, of course there are skulls lying around.”

“It wasn’t lying around, it was on a stake!” Atama said. “I just- I just turned a corner and there it was!”

“Probably marking a room where they keep bodies for resurrection or something,” Beauto said. “Seriously, that was enough to make you scream? Weren’t you already prepared to face things like that once you heard where we were going?”

“Well, I was, but…” Good, at least he wasn’t panicking anymore. “This place just looks so… normal, you know? It looks like the castle back home.” He frowned a little. “But they have nicer stuff than we do.”

“It’s easy to have nice things when you have no qualms about robbing graves,” Beauto said. “Come on, let’s find the others. Sir Kakato was afraid you might be dead.”

A small lie, a white lie, but it didn’t count because Atama didn’t look like he believed it for a second.

They walked side-by-side this time. Beauto enjoyed feeling like a reliable senior squire for the few minutes it took to find their way back, and then he led the way with his mood sinking step by step. It was easy to find the throne room - just like Atama said, this castle was very much like the one back home. And besides, a throne room should never be difficult to find. The whole point was showing off the liege’s splendor.

Even if it wasn’t easy, they would have found it quickly. The sounds of fighting and swearing echoed down the halls.

Both squires took off running, passing through the massive double doors and into the empty space. Beauto felt cold the moment he stepped inside. For a split second he thought it was dark magic, but then he noticed the room lacked carpets or drapes aside from two on the dais that held the throne itself. It was wide open, all stone, not even furniture aside from that single tall chair.

And in front of him, locked in combat with Sir Kakato, was the undead king.

He was about average height (Beauto noted the click-clack of heeled boots and amended that) a little under average height, with the cropped short hair of a soldier and the shadowed eyes of an insomniac. If it wasn't for the bloodless pallor of his skin Beauto would have taken him for a living human, and a rather handsome one at that. He certainly didn't dress like a king. Then again, maybe the knights had caught him in the middle of changing. Beauto couldn't think of another reason his shirt would be half-buttoned like that.

He fought wielding a massive sword, hardly more than a slab of metal with a handle, and he moved far more gracefully than someone encumbered by such a weight should. Unnatural strength, no need to rest or fear muscle strain, a being that existed outside human limitations.

As Beauto watched, the undead king brought his sword down so hard it cracked the blade of Kakato’s, then swept the knight’s legs out from under him with a kick. One-handed, the king picked up Kakato by the straps on the back of his armor and tossed him on top of the other two knights, already lying prone on the floor.

Beauto shrugged off his pack and threw it to the side before drawing his sword. It was smaller than the king’s; a hand-and-a-half sword, a “bastard” sword as Kakato liked to remind him. Lighter than a broadsword but stronger than a short sword. Against an unarmored human Beauto would always have the advantage.

“Take care of them,” Beauto snapped at Atama. “I’ll take care of him.”

He was surprised to see the undead king smirk as Beauto charged him. “Cocky, aren’t we?” the king said.

They met, blades crashing together. The weight was intense, just as Beauto had been afraid of, but he was a better fighter than Kakato. With the king’s attention on his sword, Beauto leaned back and kicked the man square in the gut.

Even with unnatural strength, a body reacted to that. The king made an undignified noise as his breath escaped him, and stumbled backward, giving Beauto just enough time to swing again and cut deep into the side of his neck.

Blood burst from the wound, spurting over the king’s ridiculous ornamental shoulder armor, turning into a fountain as Beauto pulled his sword free. For perhaps a tenth of a second Beauto thought he might have won, but the blood stopped as quickly as it started, and aside from the fresh coat of red the king’s neck looked good as new two-tenths of a second later.

“Damn,” Beauto muttered.

“What did you expect?” the king said with a laugh.

He had… a nice laugh, actually. Deep, warm, with the merest hint of gravel to it.

“I’ll just have to keep trying,” Beauto said.

They clashed again, blade hitting blade, Beauto grateful for his armor more than once, and the king only taking a split second to recover every time Beauto hit one of his openings. When you healed that quickly you must not need to learn to guard your vitals. Beauto was almost jealous.

It only went on for a few minutes. Real fights were like that, not like the theater where actors both in the duel and observing it could deliver full monologues while wooden swords knocked together. A real fight was quick, and messy, and you didn’t have time to think of anything other than not getting stabbed in the liver. That was why knights trained for years to be able to battle on instinct instead of thinking about every move.

Beauto wasn’t a knight, but he’d trained more than any of them. And he’d been getting into fights (that is to say, preventing himself from being beaten) for even longer.

He felt himself slip, and he saw the king’s massive sword swing into his cone of vision, and all he had time to think was -

Why couldn’t it be my face?

The sword hit his side, where the layered armor didn’t cover, and the shock of pain sent him stumbling. It didn’t feel like he’d been cut, but he was wounded now, and the king would easily be able to take advantage of that. The fight was as good as over.

As he shifted the weight of his sword to his other side, he heard a creak of what sounded like door hinges.

It was foolish, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking. Beauto saw the double doors pulling shut, Kakato on one side and Tsume on the other. When Kakato saw Beauto’s head turned in their direction, he smiled suddenly and shouted, “You got this Dogface!”

Then the doors were shut, with all three knights and one squire on the other side of them.

“What?” Beauto said. It couldn’t be. They couldn’t have really just abandoned him, could they? Anyway, what idiot would make doors to a throne room that locked from the outside?

He ran to them and pulled on the handles, the wood creaking but refusing to open. It felt not just locked, but barred.

“What…” Beauto said again. “What idiot makes doors to a throne room that lock from the outside?”

“Oh, we put that in after we took over,” the undead king said, conversationally. “For, y’know, this type of thing.”

Beauto glared at him, though he knew he couldn’t see it. “Trapping people?”

He grinned. Something about it made Beauto’s chest feel tight in the way usually only novels did.

“Yes,” the undead king said. “Trapping prey.”

He was bluffing, Beauto realized immediately. He hadn't killed any of the knights, and Beauto hadn't even been cut by a direct blow from his sword. But the knights wouldn't have known that, not even Sir Tsume. They locked him in here with an undead thing, believing that it would kill him.

"They took my bag…" Beauto realized. He'd dropped it inside the doors, and now it was gone.

They'd left him to die and made sure to salvage his part of their supplies.

“Wow, seriously?" Beauto heard the king say. "What assholes. You need better friends, sir knight."

"Wrong on all counts," Beauto said through gritted teeth.

"How so?"

"I'm not a knight, I'm a squire," he said. "And they are not my friends."

"A squire?" the king repeated. "Aren't they usually- You're not one of those super tall teenagers, are you?"

"I'm twenty-four!" Beauto said, letting his exasperation bleed into his voice. What was the point in hiding it now? It was that same thought that led him to admit, "I was this tall by the time I became a squire, though."

He was sure that was the only reason he was finally chosen. It was embarrassing to have a page the size of a grown man, especially since guests kept assuming he was a footman or guard. The seneschal must have bullied Sir Hana into it. He was a senior knight, he barely needed any help anyway, but once he'd gotten used to looking at Beauto he did actually bother to teach him. Beauto would always be grateful to him for that.

“You're probably telling the truth,” the king said, thoughtfully. “That's too specific of a number to be a lie.”

“If I was lying I'd tell you I was thirty,” Beauto said.

The king laughed, a more genuine one this time. “But that's weird, isn't it?” the king said. “Aren't most squires teenagers?”

“Not all,” Beauto muttered.

“Apparently not. What did you do that they won’t make you-”

Beauto turned, sword in hand, and charged once more at the undead king.

The man barely managed to block his strike. That big blade of his almost worked better as a shield than a weapon, but if Beauto had him on the defensive that was a good thing. He'd caught his breath, and he knew now that the king didn't want him dead. There was no reason not to fight until he couldn't move.

He took advantage of his greater speed, especially now that he didn't have to worry about leaving openings. The king could do little more than dodge and attempt to block Beauto's relentless assault. An assault he didn't want to end too quickly. When would he ever get another chance like this? To fight to his heart's content, to hurt someone as much as he wanted with no consequence?

He kept his attacks to the king's extremities. A slash on the arm, a deep cut on the thigh, watching the king's face as he flinched each time, though never for long. Beauto actually managed to cut through a finger, though the leather of the king's glove held enough that Beauto could see the flesh knit back together.

Beauto drove him back, toward the dais where his throne sat. As expected, the king tripped on the first step, and that was enough for Beauto to knock the sword out of his hand, kick his feet out from under him, and pin him to the floor with a boot on his back.

For a moment Beauto didn't move. Neither did the king, though his breath came in wheezes. Beauto knew, from experience, that it was difficult to get out of this position. If the one stepping on you used any weight at all (and Beauto did) you couldn't just roll out from under them. It was hard to grab onto something in the middle of your own back, and what would you do with it if you could? Not to mention the pressure compressing your lungs and making it difficult to breathe.

Beauto brought his sword down, hovered the blade next to the king's face, and pressed the tip against his cheek until he turned it enough to look up at him.

“What are you going to do?” the king said. He was flushed from exertion, making him look more alive. “Cutting my head off won't kill me. Stabbing me in the heart won't even slow me down.”

“I've got no reason to kill you, but I've got nothing left to lose either.” Without shifting his weight, Beauto carefully sheathed his sword. “We're both stuck here until your people or mine open that door.”

Then he bent forward and retrieved the knife he kept tucked into his boot. He couldn't help grinning at the way the king's eyes widened when he saw the flash of metal.

“You are at my mercy, your highness,” Beauto said, keeping his voice cool despite the way his heart was pounding. “And I am not a merciful man.”

The king bit his lip. Beauto had been expecting the blood to drain from his face, but if anything he flushed a little more.

“Okay,” the king said, “but you can't get mad if I get a boner about it.”

Beauto startled, and instinct had him press his heel harder into the king's back to keep him in place. The king let out a breathless noise that didn't sound entirely like pain.

“What?” Beauto said. His voice was low, in that way that usually made people recoil from him. He cleared his throat to try again, but the king was smiling.

“Does it ruin it for you if I enjoy it too?” he said. “Sorry to say I'm actually desperate enough that almost anything you do with that knife is going to be fun for me.”

Beauto brandished the knife again, a glint of light off the blade seeming to reflect in the king's eye. “You like this?”

“Knifeplay's not my favorite but I do like it, yeah.”

Beauto swallowed.

He shouldn't ask, but... he couldn't stop himself.

“What's your favorite, then?”

The smile widened into a grin. “I like it hands-on. I like hair-pulling, slapping, choking. Mostly I just wanna be picked up and used like a toy.”

Beauto had to swallow again. He almost dropped his knife, he wanted so badly to immediately try something from off the king's list.

But he couldn't. This wasn't an invitation, it was a conversation. One in which he currently had all the power. The novels he read (they were easy to find, though the quality was a crapshoot. His best luck had been at the brothels Sir Kakato thought it was funny to drag him to – they often had erotica lying around for inspiration. Since none of the entertainers wanted to meet his eyes, it was easy for Beauto to tuck himself into a corner of the lounge and read while he waited) often crossed that type of line, but he knew they were fantasies. This... this kind of arrangement, it had to be negotiated beforehand.

“How did you know?” Beauto asked, quietly.

“That you’re into this too?”

Beauto nodded.

“The way you fought. You dragged it out, you hurt me instead of disarming me. You were enjoying yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” Beauto said.

“Don’t be sorry for having fun. I was too.”

“No, I… I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you, instead of the people that deserve it.”

“Apology accepted.” The king shifted beneath his boot. “Now that that’s in the open, how about letting me up?” He grinned again. “Or don’t, and do that thing with your heel again.”

He couldn’t have stopped himself. Not even with a blade to his throat. Beauto pressed the heel of his boot against the king’s back, digging the edge into his spine, and the king gave a soft gasp.

Dear god, Beauto had never been this turned on in his life.

“What’s your name, anyway?” the king asked, still breathless, a little teasing. Was this… flirtation? It was a tone that Beauto had heard before but never caused.

“Beauto,” he said. “What’s yours? Everyone only ever seems to call you ‘the undead king.’”

The flirtation (if that’s what it was) quickly disappeared. “That’s because I don’t have one. I was numbered, not named.”

Beauto barely managed a “Wh?” sound.

“They call me the undead king for a reason. I’m not exactly dead, but I’m certainly not a human. I was made in a lab by a necromancer. I’m nothing but an experiment that happens to be able to walk and talk.”

Immediately Beauto pulled his foot off the king’s back and stepped away. The king was frowning as he sat up. He had hooded eyes that exaggerated the expression, like red coals peering out of the shadow of his brow. If Beauto hadn’t already seen through him he may have been afraid.

“Disturbing, isn’t it?” the king said.

“This person made you but never bothered to name you?” Beauto said. “Of course that’s disturbing!”

The king looked surprised, for some reason. The frown fell away and he blinked up at Beauto. “Isn’t it?” he said, distantly.

“What a piece of shit,” Beauto said firmly.

“He was,” the king agreed. “Still is, probably.”

“He’s still alive?”

“Not if I ever see him again.”

Beauto nodded. He had enough practice in his helmet that the bottom of the face shield no longer clanked against his chest plate when he did. “They say the best revenge is living well, but what’s the point if you can’t rub it in their faces? Drag him before your throne and order your knights to kill him, let him see you’ve got loyalty and respect. Let him die knowing what a fool he was.”

The king’s eyes were slightly widened, but he was smiling again. “Is that a fantasy you’ve had?”

Beauto tilted his head. “No?” he asked, confused by the question. It was just logical, wasn’t it?

“No?”

“No, it’s not. Why?”

The king laughed, shaking his head. “You know, I think I like you Squire Beauto. I really do.”

Behind his helmet, Beauto smiled.

“Speaking of which…” The king, still sitting on the floor, leaned back against the bottom step of his dais. He smiled up at Beauto, something like heat in those strange red eyes of his.

His body was relaxed, his posture casual, and as Beauto looked at him he - without looking like was doing anything other than getting more comfortable - spread his thighs.

The king wore his trousers very tight.

“Did you want to step on me again?” he asked. “Or… something else, maybe?”

Beauto swallowed. His heart was pounding, his blood rushing so loudly he almost couldn’t hear his own response.

“That's... an option?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Beauto, knowing he must look like an idiot, pointed at his chest. “Me?”

“Yes,” the king said. He didn't roll his eyes, which Beauto took as a good sign he meant it.

“I’m your enemy. I was sent here to kill you as a monster. And you'd... lay with me?”

“Absolutely,” the king said. “My standards are not high right now.” He hesitated, and added, “Do you think I’m a monster?”

“No…” Beauto said, though he was sure the king heard the doubt in it.

The church taught that the undead were not truly the dead come back to life, but demons inhabiting their bodies. Putting them down was the righteous thing to do. And though Beauto didn’t believe anymore, not really (a loving god wouldn’t allow children to be cursed before they were even conceived), it was difficult to forget something you had known as a “fact” for most of your life.

“Maybe,” Beauto admitted. “But my standards aren't high either.”

The king laughed, and reached out a hand to beckon him. Beauto took a step forward. And another. And, gently, pressed his boot against the king's thigh, forcing his legs even farther apart.

“What are you going to do to me?” the king practically purred.

Beauto had never heard that actually done before. He'd read it in novels, seen actors on the stage try it, but he'd never heard it in a voice that wasn't performing. This... right now...

This was real. This was happening. He might really, really, lose his virginity. Beauto had all but given it up for a lost cause – no one would want him with this face, and his body wasn't much to speak of either. And if he managed to survive until he didn't have this face any more, what were the chances merely being average-looking would find him a partner either? At least he could hire company then.

But right now... someone wanted him. Someone hadn't seen his face, and Beauto was fairly sure he could bluff his way through this encounter without having to remove his helmet. If the king actually preferred to be treated like an object, keeping a barrier between them shouldn't be that big of a deal.

It could happen. It could work.

Trying to hide his trembling, Beauto pulled off one glove and leaned forward to grab a fistful of the king's hair. The smile never budged.

“I want you,” Beauto said. He meant it to be the beginning of a sentence, but nothing came to mind. He was so excited he was feeling light-headed.

“You've got me, baby,” the king said. As Beauto tugged at his hair, the king's eyelids fluttered in pleasure and he let out a soft moan.

Holy shit, was it normal to get dizzy when all your blood rushed to your dick? Some of those novels had been pretty stimulating, but he'd never felt like this. The strength was even going out of his fingers with how hard it hit him.

No, wait.

Beauto stumbled, putting both feet back on the floor, hoping it would keep him upright. His vision slid sideways and he saw the king, brow wrinkled in concern, reach out for him.

He hit the ground on his already-injured side, and then everything went black.

***

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Her king had grabbed Psykos by the shoulders and was shaking her. Considering she was a witch and quite a bit older than him, the responsible thing to do here would be to remain calm and allow him to get his aggression out before asking why he felt it.

Instead, Psykos kicked his shin until he let go.

“Ow!”

“Ow first! What do you mean what's wrong with me?”

“Why did you have to cast a sleep spell on the room? Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone?”

“You were in there with one of those asshole knights!” Psykos gestured at the now-open doors to the throne room, where the enchanted knight was laying on the floor, right next to the dais.

“So what? You could have come in the side door to check first!” The servant doors were used by everyone now that the castle inhabitants lived communally, but people who didn't live there never considered there might be an entrance that wasn't huge and extravagant.

“Why? This is standard procedure.”

“I know, but-”

“You're immune to most magic, so if I cast a sleep spell everyone falls over until we can run damage control.”

“I know, but-”

“But what? I shouldn't do what I've done a dozen times? I shouldn't try to help you?”

“Help me?” the king repeated. “You just coc-”

He stopped. His eyes looked off to her side, and about two feet down.

“Co... cost me a chance to get along with somebody!”

Psykos glanced back, and confirmed that Isamu was standing there ready to help. He gave her a confused smile when she met his eyes, and she patted his shoulder.

“It's okay Isamu, we're just talking. Did you get the prisoners situated?”

“Yes, they're in that wine cellar that we emptied out because the king is trying to quit drinking.” Isamu smiled at him so brightly it even hurt Psykos to look at. “We're really proud of you for doing that!”

“Yes we are,” Psykos agreed. “See? We show our appreciation when you do things.”

The king took a breath, then slowly reached up and pressed his fingers to his temples. “Reminding me of all the wine we threw away is not helping...”

“Sorry,” Psykos said.

“Sorry,” Isamu said.

"But," Psykos continued, "did you really want to get along with somebody like that? Somebody who came to kill you?"

"Not the first time," the king said, and tapped two fingers on the side of his neck. Psykos scowled and made sure her collar was tugged up high enough to cover last night's bite mark.

"Trust me, I was watching them, those knights are assholes."

"He's not a knight," the king said.

Psykos looked, closer this time, at the figure laying on the floor. He was wearing only partial armor, an old-fashioned breastplate made of layered metal plates, and an even older bucket helmet. And he was on his back, flat, with his arms straight at his sides. Very unlikely he'd fallen that way naturally. The king must have repositioned him.

"The squire," she said. "The one they called-" She cut herself off. What was his real name? "Bureau?"

"Beauto," the king said.

"Beauto. Right. He was…" He was the one they were all being assholes to. "He seemed all right."

"And you just knocked him out right when things were getting good." The king rubbed his hands over his head, curling his fingers into his hair. "Shit, he's going to think it was a trap. Think I was buying time, not…"

"It's my fault," Psykos said quickly. "I'll apologize and explain everything if you want."

The king looked up.

"The spell will last about an hour, let's put him in a guest room so he knows he's not a prisoner as soon as he wakes up."

"You think?" the king said.

He looked so hopeful. This was more than just a cockblock situation, the king really liked this guy.

"I'm sure," Psykos said.

After all, she'd seen his face. He couldn't have a line of prospective lovers knocking down his door. If a king - undead or not - was interested in him, Beauto would be a fool to say no.

***

Beauto woke in bed. For a moment he was disoriented, feeling like he'd been dreaming something completely ridiculous. He reached out for his helmet, like he did every morning he spent in the barracks, hiding his face as quickly as possible before any of the younger squires woke up.

His hand met nothing but more bedding. Soft, plush mattress, smooth fabric. This was not his bed.

The castle. The king.

Beauto jolted upright. The curtains in the room were open, sunlight streaming in, unimpeded by either curtains or the face shield of Beauto's helmet.

"Shit!" He covered as much of his face as he could with one hand and fumbled for the edge of the bed. Who took it? Why? The king hadn't seen, had he?

"Oh hey, you're awake!" The king stood up from a chair in the corner. He was smiling, nearly as bright as the sun, looking Beauto right in the eye.

Beauto threw himself backward and covered himself with the sheet.

"What's wrong?" he heard the king ask.

"Why?" Beauto demanded. "Why did you take my helmet, why?"

He could feel himself choking up. This was foolish, it was just sex, he'd known it was never going to happen for him.

"Why? Why?"

Why did he feel like crying? Why did this upset him so much?

"Okay, okay," he heard the king moving around the room. "I wasn't supposed to, I guess? I'm sorry. Is this a religious thing, or…"

"Why would you do it?" Beauto said. Begged. "I don't understand, why couldn't you just- just- Why?"

"You were knocked out, we wanted to make you more comfortable while you had to lay there."

"We?" Beauto repeated. "Who else saw?"

"Uh, a couple of guards? Hana and- Shit, I can never remember Ami's dad's name."

"Three people saw me? You saw my face?"

"I'm really sorry, I didn't know I wasn't supposed to."

Beauto could see the shadow of him moving, between the sheet and the window. The king was close, too close. What did he want? He couldn't want what he'd wanted before.

"Here's your helmet," the king said, his shadow holding something out.

Beauto stuck one hand out of the blanket, and when metal touched his fingers he whisked the heavy object under the covers with him to safety.

Only once he was sure he was hidden did Beauto pull the sheets off his head.

"Where's the rest of my armor?" His clothes were intact, only his armor and boots had been removed. Ugh. Undressed like a doll.

"Over here." 

Through the eye slits in the helmet, Beauto saw the king gesture at the same corner where he'd been sitting. There was an armor stand there, a real one, looking naked without more than the random pieces Beauto was permitted to wear.

He turned away from the king, making sure his tunic hem was pulled down and his trousers were pulled up before climbing out of the opposite side of the bed.

"Do I have permission to leave?" Beauto asked, trying his best to maintain what dignity he had. His voice was still shaky and thick with snot.

"You're not a prisoner," the king said, sadly. Of course he'd be disappointed. "I'd like it if you stayed as a guest, but that's entirely up to you. No hard feelings here, I promise."

Beauto didn't believe it but he didn't dare call it out. He hadn't lied, the king had never asked to see his face, but realizing he'd nearly slept with someone who looked like Beauto must have felt like dodging a cannon ball.

"What happened to my… traveling party?"

"They were caught trying to loot the castle. The rule around here is that anyone's allowed to challenge me to a fight, the rest of the residents and staff will get out of the way, but stealing isn't something we can tolerate."

"At least let me take Squire Atama," Beauto said. "He's only fifteen, he hasn't had a chance to know better."

"What?" the king said. He shook his head. "You can take all of them, we don't want them, I just meant my political advisor cast a sleep spell on them and tossed them in the wine cellar."

Beauto blinked. He hadn't quite shed any tears, but his eyes still felt tired. "Your… political advisor?"

"She's pretty good at manipulating people so it was as good a title as any. But she's a witch if that's what you mean."

"Why the wine cellar?"

"We don't have dungeons or anything. It's an enclosed room with nothing in it at the moment, and the only door is at the top of a narrow staircase so we've got the advantage if they try to break out."

"You don't have dungeons," Beauto said, flatly.

"No. I think this castle used to be a fancy hunting lodge."

"What do you do with all the other knights that try to kill you?"

"They usually fight themselves into exhaustion and then we toss 'em out."

Beauto shook his head. No wonder so many rumors had spread about this damned kingdom and the "monster" that ruled it. They kept letting their enemies survive! Let them leave humiliated and carrying a grudge!

"I'll tell them we lost," Beauto said. "I… won't tell anyone about what-" No, the king wouldn't even want Beauto to acknowledge what had almost happened. "I'll go," he said, quietly. "I won't come back. The knights won't talk about me when they tell this story, they never do. No one will ever know I was here."

Beauto had been standing there with his face turned down, no desire to see the look at the king's expression when Beauto alluded to their near-tryst. Would it be anger? Disgust? Fear? He'd gotten all three before, and in every combination.

"I'm sorry," the king said. "It wasn't a trick, I swear. I didn't want Psykos to knock you out."

"I know." But he must be glad for it now. He'd probably give her a raise.

“You can ask her yourself!”

“There's no need.”

“Can you tell me why people shouldn't see your face? Or is it a personal thing.”

In surprise, Beauto looked up at him. The king's expression was… confused. Concerned. Not a trace of disgust.

“Why would I want anyone to see it?”

“Because… it's your face?” The king's brow squiggled like one of those flat-faced dogs.

“And now that you've seen it, do you still want to bed me?”

“Yes?” the king said.

“You see? That's why-” Beauto stopped. “What did you say?”

“I- I said yes?” the king said. “I wanted you when as far as I knew you had no face, why would seeing you make me feel different?”

He tilted his head, as if Beauto were an abstract painting he was trying to figure out. Beauto was very glad he wasn't being seen at the moment, because his mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish as he tried to process what he'd just heard.

Yes. The king said yes. He still wanted him.

It couldn't be possible.

“That can't be possible,” Beauto muttered aloud.

The king's expression changed, smoothed out, his eyes widening. “You really believe that,” he said. He shook his head. “Holy shit, who hurt you?”

Beauto gave a mirthless huff of laughter. “Everyone?”

Over two decades of memories hit Beauto all at once, and he sunk back down onto the edge of the bed.

“Everyone,” he said again. “No one has ever seen my face and not been put off by it.”

He heard the king's voice behind him, and felt the bed sink as he sat on the other side. “Really? I mean... it's not that I don't believe you, it's just... Are you sure?”

Beauto would be angry if it was anyone else, but there was nothing to gain for the king to jerk him around like this. Nothing but sick sadistic pleasure, and Beauto knew what that looked like from both sides. This wasn't bullying, this was ignorance.

“You said it yourself, didn't you? You asked what I'd done that I still haven't been made a knight. The answer is... be born like this.” Beauto smiled to himself. He had to smile, or he'd start screaming. “I've been a squire longer than I was a page, now, but that was a long time too. No knight wanted the ugly kid to strap on their armor for them.”

“But... but that's...”

Beauto turned. His helmet slits weren't wide enough that he could see the king unless he pulled one leg up on the bed and brought his whole body sideways. He was surprised to see the king had done the same, leaning toward him across the mattress.

“The knights... Well, you heard them. You know what they call me.”

“They're assholes,” the king said. “Who cares what they think?”

“Everyone thinks it. When you look like me, people are happy to jump to the worst conclusions.” Beauto had to avert his gaze again. "And… they're not entirely wrong. You know what I am. What I like."

“Nobody gets to choose what they're turned on by,” the king said. “Being an asshole is a choice. Every time.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Beauto said.

“It should be simple! It shouldn't have to be hard to expect basic human decency!”

Beauto looked up, and saw the king wince.

“Sorry… I think I'm projecting a little here.”

“Ah.” Of course, someone visibly undead would have faced even worse than Beauto ever had. And the king had been made this way, he said. He was never an ordinary human.

But it rankled, somehow. Being compared to something that never should have expected to be accepted. Beauto was a victim of a generations-old curse, he wasn't a monster like the king.

He said none of this out loud, having learned a long time ago that thoughts like that would never be rewarded.

“You’re right,” Beauto said. That was usually a safe bet, although he’d already forgotten what they were talking about.

“Damn right I’m right,” the king said, full of confidence. And then added, “What were we talking about?”

In spite of everything, Beauto laughed.

The king smiled at him, all warm eyes and soft lips. It still felt like Beauto would be thrown out of this bedroom at any moment, but he couldn’t help enjoying the view.

“You have an amazing voice, you know that?” the king said suddenly.

“Yes,” Beauto said, bluntly. That was the one thing he’d refuse to accept insults about. “I’m a singer. I was in the church choir for all of my childhood, and I’d have liked to do it for a living, but I was… gently discouraged from following that path.”

The king shook his head. “It’s the world’s loss.”

Beauto smiled. “Well… maybe in six years.”

“What’s in six years? Are you on a squiring contract?”

“That’s not a thing,” Beauto laughed. “No, it’s the deadline for the curse. That’s why I look like this, my bloodline is cursed.”

The king blinked a couple times, and his wispy brows drew together in confusion. “You’re cursed?”

“I think- I hope that’s why people react the way they do. That it’s magic and not human nature making them turn against me as soon as they get a look.” Beauto sighed. “But I doubt it.”

“We can solve that!” The king sat up straight and clapped his hands together. “I have a witch!”

Beauto did not succeed in stopping the king from calling his “political advisor” into the bedroom. Nor did he stop the woman (she looked mid-twenties but mages could sometimes extend their lives through unethical means, and her clothes were several decades out of date) from rattling off half of a rehearsed apology before the king stopped her.

“I explained all that,” he said. “He's cursed, Psykos.”

The king had at least had the foresight to move them to chairs, but there were only two in the room and the king had - of all things - elected to perch on the tea table between them instead of calling for a third. It was strange, but having him there as a buffer made Beauto feel more at ease.

“How so?” the woman, Psykos, asked.

The king turned to Beauto, waiting for him to explain, and Beauto allowed himself a sigh. He'd explained this so many times in his life that he'd gotten bored. How could you sum up a lifetime of suffering in a few sentences?

“It's my whole family. The firstborn is always born hideously ugly, no matter what their parents looked like. At twenty we gain shapeshifting powers, but if we use them we'll die in ten years.”

“Well that's some bullshit,” the woman said, as if Beauto had described something no more serious than a rude encounter at the pub.

“I’ve managed to hold out for four years, two months, and thirteen days.”

“Let's see,” the woman said.

She reached out for Beauto’s hand, and he automatically flinched back.

“I'm sorry,” she said, more gently. “If it's on your bloodline I'll need to touch you to get an idea. If I can see your face it'll be even easier, since that's that part it affects the most.”

Beauto didn’t move. Her words made sense, but he hadn’t willingly taken his helmet off in front of another human in over three years. Why would he, when all it did was destroy any favorable impressions they might have?

She wouldn’t be able to break the curse. No one could, no one had, not in at least three generations of searching. The king might not mind Beauto’s face, but the king was undead. Maybe the curse didn’t affect him in the same way.

“If it makes a difference, I’ve already seen you without that thing,” the woman said.

Beauto shrunk back further. The king said that he and two guards saw him, but he hadn’t said anything about this witch.

“When? Why?” Beauto demanded.

“I can see through the eyes of some animals, so it’s part of my job to keep an eye on any new visitors to the area. Your traveling party was suspicious, and I checked in on you several times over the last few days. I saw you getting ready before the others woke up.”

Beauto winced.

“I saw the way they treated you,” she added.

The ever-familiar anger began to well up within him. Of course she had. Of course. It was bad enough he’d been exposed literally, why not figuratively as well? At this point he could strip and feel less naked.

Fuck it.

Beauto pulled his helmet off and threw it across the room. He heard it bounce off the bed frame and rattle along the floor, coming to a rest just out of the corner of his eye. He glared at the woman’s face, and saw, just as he’d expected, shock and disgust twist her features.

“Oh that is nasty,” she said.

“I told you!” Beauto snapped. He tried to get up, but the king leaned over and grabbed his hand.

“No, come on baby, hear her out.”

“Why?” he said.

“That’s not what she meant.” The king turned to her and hissed, “It’s not, is it?”

“No!” the woman said, raising her hands quickly. “I just haven’t seen a death curse that detailed before.”

Beauto felt his brow furrow, before remembering his bare face and trying to compose himself. “Yes, I said it was deadly.”

“Not deadly,” the woman said. “A death curse. Meaning it was powered by death.”

Beauto sunk back in his seat. “Someone… killed someone to curse my family?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But that’s difficult as hell. This looks to me more like the caster died.”

“H… how?”

“Hard to say whether it was suicide or they were already dying. But either way, this is what they did with their last breath.”

Beauto shook his head. Whatever was showing on his face, it made the king take his hand.

“What did my ancestor do to this person?”

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth dooming their whole family,” the woman said. “Don’t dwell on it.”

“No, I…” Beauto covered his mouth with his free hand.

He could picture it. A handsome bully, tormenting someone for their looks until that person felt they couldn’t go on. But they’d get their revenge, oh yes, they would make that bastard pay. They would make his grandchildren pay. None of them would ever forget what it was like to be the easy target.

He’d do the same thing in their place.

“Don’t dwell on it,” the king repeated, softly.

“I’m not,” Beauto lied.

“I can try to break it,” the woman said. “But this kind of magic is thorny. It’ll take me years to unravel, maybe a decade or more.”

Slowly, Beauto raised his head. “But you can do it?”

“I can, if you can wait that long.”

Years… He had six years left before the curse broke on its own, but if he could shorten that even a day he would go for it. And if it was longer, then… Then it wouldn’t matter, really. But if she could break it for him, she could break it for others.

“I don’t intend to have children, but I’d certainly like to remove the possibility of passing it on, just in case.”

“You don’t want kids?” the king said. There was just a bit too much interest in his tone.

“I didn’t think anyone would ever want me for a partner, so I haven’t considered it,” Beauto said.

“You have any experience with ‘em?”

“Kids? Yes, I have three younger half-siblings. We’re not close but we got along well enough.”

They were the only people - the only ones before the king - who had never been disgusted by him. They’d known Beauto for their entire lives, so perhaps that canceled it out.

The king nodded, as if filing that information away.

Beauto felt the corner of his mouth begin to rise. “Don’t tell me you’re considering a relationship with me. We’ve known each other for an hour.”

“Hey, it’s just good to know! If you hated kids I’d know not to get attached.”

“You’re undead, can you even father children?”

“Hell if I know,” the king said. “But I’ve already more or less adopted one and I’m not ruling it out for the future.”

Across the table, the woman cleared her throat. “So… Are you considering staying then, Sir Beauto?”

Beauto flinched. “Squire. I’m a squire.”

A moment later, her words filtered in.

“Wait, what?”

“Come on, Psykos,” the king said. Beauto noted he was blushing, a little bit of life once again returning to his bloodless cheeks. “That’s a lot to ask.”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I- I do, but you can’t ask a guy to move in on the first date. Even if it’s just an invitation to join the kingdom, what if he thinks-”

“Yes,” Beauto said.

What did he have waiting for him back home? Six more years of humiliation, a king who expected three knights to overthrow an army of undead, a family who would rather forget he’d been born. His little siblings would only miss the solstice presents he brought them and his mother refused to talk about her first marriage at all. He only went to church anymore because knights were expected to be faithful, and he had to be better than perfect if he ever wanted that title. Why keep it up? Why keep fighting for respect he’d never get?

He would never have to see or speak to that damn Sir Kakato again.

“You want to stay?” the king said, sounding surprised, but happily so.

“I do,” Beauto said. “Though preferably not as a kept man. I think you’ll be disappointed by my skills anyway, I was bluffing earlier, I’m a virgin.”

“That was bluffing?” the king said, even more surprised this time. “Damn, you’ve got a natural talent then.”

“Okay I’m leaving,” the woman said, smoothly rising from her chair. “You boys have fun, I’ll have Isamu draw up the citizenship papers.”

“Yeah yeah.” The king waved her off, not taking his eyes off Beauto’s face.

His bare, helmet-less face.

Nervously, Beauto reached up and tried to straighten his hair. It was a futile effort, as always, not to mention the helmet making it worse. There would be weird creases and split ends and sometimes it got tousled so much it looked like a bird’s nest.

But despite looking like that, neither the king nor his advisor had shown any disgust. Beauto thought Psykos had, at first, but the rest of the conversation she was looking at him dead-on with nary a blink. Did they… really not care?

“Wait,” Beauto said as the woman reached for the door handle. “The curse. Did- can you see how it works?”

“Yes,” the woman said. She tapped the frame of her glasses. “I’ve got these enchanted, otherwise I’d need a blood sample. Why?”

“People have been treating me like…” Beauto trailed off. “Well, like you saw. It’s been like that all my life. I wanted to know, is it- is it the curse? Does it make me look inhuman? Does it cause people to be repulsed by me?”

He dared to look up as he waited for her answer, and he hated how much pity he saw in her eyes. “No. I’m sorry, Sir Beauto, the curse is purely physical. It seems like you’ve just spent your life surrounded by assholes.”

Beauto pressed his lips together, and nodded. “That’s what I thought. Thank you.”

It was what he’d thought, but not what he’d hoped.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Psykos said. “Goodnight.”

It was late afternoon, judging by the light coming through the windows, but the king’s advisor expected they would be occupied for the rest of the day.

Beauto swallowed.

The door shut, the king looked at Beauto expectantly, and Beauto found himself saying what he was thinking for the first time in years.

“I hate people.”

“Oh.”

“Everyone I’ve ever met.”

“Okay.”

“My life changed so much after I started wearing my helmet. I got it on my first mission outside the country, and everything was different. People didn't shy away from me, shop clerks actually greeted me...”

“They didn't before?” the king exclaimed.

“I don't know if... I'm frightening, maybe? I look like people think a thug should look. That, or... maybe they can tell I hate them. All of them.”

“You've got the right to,” the king said.

“I hoped it was the curse. I didn’t believe it, but I hoped. Now that I know for sure… I really hate them.”

“I’m sorry you went through that,” the king said. He’d still been holding Beauto’s hand this whole time, and now he squeezed it.

“Even my own grandfather. He was a preacher, and in his sermons he used to use me as an example of hardships his family faced. Say that god sent me to test them.”

“What the fuck,” the king said softly.

“I actually didn't mind that. I think I thought it gave me purpose.”

“Seriously, what the fuck?”

“I don’t feel that way anymore, don’t worry.”

“Good, because… Good.” The king shook his head and squeezed a little harder. “R Kingdom’s dinky, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s even smaller than here.”

“I hate to say it, but if everyone you've spent time with knew you your whole life, already thought of you as a target, maybe it was the location that was the problem?”

“Maybe,” Beauto said. “It’s a nice thought. But if I am going to stay here, I… I’d prefer to keep wearing my helmet.” He glanced at the king, who met his eyes without hesitation. “At least in public.”

“We can get you a new one. Hell, if you don’t mind armor that was died in, we can get you one for every day of the week.”

The old helmet had probably belonged to a dead knight too. “As long as it’s been boiled clean.”

“Then you’re staying?” the king asked, hope and warmth in his voice.

He kept asking that. Almost as if the king expected to be left behind at any moment.

A thought occurred, and Beauto nearly smiled. “I want to stay, and I want to spend the night with you if you’ll let me.”

“Hell yes.”

“But I’m still a little worried about my traveling party. If they think you’ve killed me, they might hold a grudge.”

“Okay,” the king said. “So you want to see them off?”

“Yes,” Beauto said. “I would very much like to see them off.”

Mid-morning, the three knights and one squire were dragged back to the throne room. The king waited on his throne, flanked on one side by his witch (now decked out in even-older-looking clothes, though the black dye had held strong), and on the other by a knight in full plate armor (with a black finish that had been hastily applied and still smelled faintly of chemicals).

Beauto thought to himself, standing on the dias, that looking through the visor slits of his new helmet at Sir Kakato cowering on the ground was very nearly as satisfying as last night had been. Whatever their treatment during their visit to the wine cellar, the knights now looked thoroughly dejected.

But not scared. Not yet. At least one of them was smart enough to know they’d be dead already if the undead king wanted to kill them, and would have explained it to the others. So they were beaten, but not broken.

“You come to my castle,” the king said, slowly. “You try to kill me. You spit on my floor. You steal my things.”

The knights didn’t say a word, though Atama looked at Sir Onaka as if expecting something. Kakato fixed his eyes on the floor and hunched in on himself, trying to look smaller. Like all bullies, he turned into a coward when faced with someone he genuinely could not beat.

“You are all very lucky. Luckier than you can imagine,” the king said. “Because despite your best efforts, I’m having a good day.” Beauto could hear the smile in his voice, and he was sure it was a wicked one. “So I’ll be letting you go on your way, with bodies and belongings intact.”

Relief washed across the whole party’s faces. But Atama glanced at Sir Onaka again, and then the other two, and finally spoke up.

“Um, sire, is it… May I ask what happened to our other companion? Squire Beauto?”

“Ah, yes.” The king smiled again. “He kept me very well entertained.”

Atama went pale. Beauto almost felt bad about it, but even the boy had looked down on him. Assumed the worst, like everyone else. Bragged about the fact he would surely reach a knighthood before “Dogface.”

But he was only fifteen, and Beauto remembered being fifteen. He couldn���t be too angry. The boy still had time to grow.

“Is he…” Atama swallowed. “Sire. What can I tell his family?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” The king glanced at Beauto. “Tell them his adventure stopped here.”

Under his helmet, Beauto chuckled.

The king sat up and clapped, and two undead soldiers brought the knights’ supplies into the throne room, dumping it all unceremoniously on the floor.

“Take what’s yours,” the king said, and the knights and Atama quickly scrambled to their feet.

They picked up their packs, loading bags onto already-encumbered shoulders. Atama must have helped all three back into their armor that morning. He’d tightened Kakato’s straps too much and the knight’s clothing was bunching around it. He would be uncomfortable all day.

Beauto smiled.

The king leaned over, and whispered, “Which one?”

“Blue,” Beauto said. His bag was the largest by far.

The king raised his voice. “I said, take what’s yours.” He snapped his fingers and pointed, and Beauto strode forward to snatch his bag from Atama’s arms as if following the order, and not that they’d discussed this beforehand.

Atama skittered away from him in fear. “I just- I thought-”

“It is ours!” Kakato exclaimed. Of course he found his tongue when trying to steal something. “If my squire is dead, his belongings belong to m- us!”

Beauto ignored him, keeping a tight grip on the straps with one hand, and letting the other rest on his sword hilt.

“And our maps are in there, and most of our cooking stuff!”

“Give them the maps,” the king said. “We want them to be able to find their way out.”

Beauto nodded, enjoying the way his new helmet fit so well he didn’t have to worry about it sliding. He pulled the maps from the side pocket and handed them over to Atama. Kakato couldn’t read one and the other two wouldn’t take orders from each other, not even if it was just directions.

He turned, planning to hand the bag off to one of the soldiers, when behind him he heard Kakato say -

“Dogface?”

Maybe it was the sword. Beauto hadn’t replaced it along with the armor, he still had his hand-and-a-half sword sheathed at his hip. Maybe it was body language, and Kakato actually had paid enough attention to his squire over the last year to learn the way he moved. Or maybe it was that the black knight hadn’t needed to ask where the maps were in such an overstuffed traveling pack.

Whatever it was that gave him away, Beauto was caught.

Fuck it.

He took his hand off his sword and backhanded Kakato across the face, hard enough to send him sprawling. One of the undead soldiers stepped forward and took Beauto’s bag, leaving him with both hands free to grab Kakato by his breastplate and haul him to his feet. There was a red mark on his cheek and a shallow scratch that wasn’t even bleeding, but Kakato was wide-eyed and panting with shock.

“If I ever hear that name out of your mouth again,” Beauto hissed, “I will see to it your jaw needs to be wired shut. Understand?”

Kakato gaped at him, mouth hanging open like a fool. After a second he seemed to realize the irony of this, and snapped it shut.

Beauto let go of him, making sure to shove him just enough that he stumbled into Onaka, who moved out of the way rather than steady his fellow knight.

“Go,” the king said, his voice raised to carry. “Leave my kingdom while I’m still in a good mood. If any of you have half the brains of your former squire, you’ll never return.”

The knights didn’t wait on propriety, moving as soon as the door was open and already beginning to nudge each other and whisper in the hallway outside. Beauto saw Atama glance back, stunned, his eyes fixed on Beauto’s black helmet.

Beauto said nothing. Whatever conclusions Atama decided to draw were his own business.

The doors shut, the king sighed and slumped in his throne, and then one of the soldiers looked at Beauto and asked if he was okay.

Beauto nodded.

“Did he call you that all the time? What an asshole.”

Beauto nodded again, and let out a sigh of his own. “It’s over now.”

“Yeah, that’s right, forget about them,” the soldier agreed firmly.

Beauto would have to learn his name. He seemed nice, and if Beauto was going to stay he would need to get along with others. And a man with a gaping hole where his nose ought to be had no room to judge Beauto for his looks.

Maybe that was why the king and Psykos hadn’t reacted much. Being surrounded by walking corpses surely gave you a much higher tolerance for unpleasant visages.

The click-clack of two pairs of heels heralded the people in question. Beauto and the soldiers snapped to attention in unison.

“I hate that,” the king said. “Psykos, I hate it when they do that.”

“I know you do,” she said, soothingly. “All right, I’ve got to go keep an eye on those assholes to make sure they leave the country and don’t set any fields on fire on the way out.” She glanced at Beauto. “Want me to have the crows shit on them?”

“No,” Beauto said. “Atama would be the one to have to clean it off.”

“Fair enough.” She waved as she flounced off, wavy hair flowing behind her.

How did she make it look like that? Was it magic or could Beauto actually do something about his rat’s nest?

The soldiers trooped off as well, returning to their usual duties. They still had their army training, but the way they spoke to Beauto and each other was far more relaxed than the soldiers Beauto knew from home.

His old home, that is.

Now alone in the throne room, Beauto followed the king back to his throne. He glanced around, making sure he hadn’t missed someone, and turned away from the doors before lifting his visor.

“Are you okay with this?” the king asked.

“It was my idea, my king.”

“Yeah but… you could have gone further.”

“Would you have let me?” Beauto asked, with a smile.

“If you thought they needed killing, I’d trust your judgment.”

“That’s a mistake. I think I’m less merciful than you are, sire.”

The king tilted his head and looked up at Beauto. His eyes were blood red, but already Beauto found the color more fascinating than disturbing.

“But you didn’t do it,” the king said. “You let them go, you didn’t even beat the shit out of that one guy.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Beauto said. “I’m a knight, and you’re my liege. My behavior reflects on you.”

The king smiled. He was so handsome that if Beauto hadn’t spent the entire previous night defiling him, it would have been hard not to hate him.

“Does it?” he said softly.

“Of course. This is my home now. Even if we tire of each other, it will still be my duty to protect this kingdom and its king. And that includes our reputation.”

The king crooked a finger, beckoning Beauto closer. “You can guard my reputation,” he said warmly, “as long as you keep calling me a slut in private.”

“You are a slut,” Beauto said. “It’s not slander if it’s the truth.” He put his hand on the arm of the throne and leaned over the king’s body, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “But only I’m allowed to say it.”

The king’s eyes lit up, and he tilted his head back, welcoming Beauto as he went in for a kiss.

A few days ago Beauto thought he would die a squire and a virgin, and now he could kiss a king whenever he liked. If this was a dream he hoped he never woke up.

The door slammed open and Beauto jumped back, pulling his visor down over his face. The young boy Beauto had seen in passing this morning ran across the room without waiting for permission, and stuffed a stack of papers into the bewildered king’s arms.

“Horses!” he said, as if that explained anything. “I gotta go, the sables got out!”

“How the- Isamu!”

The boy kept running, out the side door behind the drapes.

“Isamu!”

As that door too slammed shut behind their visitor, the king sunk down in his throne and groaned.

“Is it always like this?” Beauto asked, amused.

The king grumbled something incoherent.

“Do you want help?”

Wordlessly, the king held out the papers for Beauto to take.

It turned out to be a list of items they needed to get the stables resupplied. No part of the list actually mentioned horses, but Beauto had done most kinds of chores around a castle before and he knew what went where.

“I’ll take care of it,” Beauto said.

“Wait, really? Can you?”

“Sure, this is simple. Why did the boy give it to you instead of the stablemaster?”

“We don’t have one of those.”

“The castle seneschal then.”

“Isamu is the seneschal.”

Beauto was quiet for a moment as a lot of things he’d noticed began to make sense. Though the castle was large and they’d gone to effort to make it comfortable for all the inhabitants, and everyone respected the king and his authority, no one seemed particularly organized. Even the armory had been unlocked and unguarded when Beauto went to pick out his new armor.

“You need me,” Beauto said.

“I do,” the king agreed, no hint of innuendo in his voice for once. The situation may be even more dire than Beauto suspected. “Oh gods, I really do.”

Taking that as blanket permission to act on his behalf, Beauto set out. With his new armor and his old sword and a long night’s worth of aches and bruises that he wouldn’t have given up for the world. For now his job was just shopping and scrounging, but he was trusted now, truly trusted. Piece by piece Beauto would take the power that trust gave him and turn this kingdom into something to be proud of.

He hummed as he walked the halls, an old ballad about love and loss and the faithful getting their just rewards.

Beauto was a traitor, technically, but right now he felt very rewarded indeed.

[borderlinebox]

Hello! I really love your writing and saw your requests are open :D

Wondering if you could write a headcannon of what it would be like being chishiya’s childhood friend? like how would they meet and what would their dynamic be like

gn! kid reader who’s selfless and caring like arisu wanting to befriend him (whos been staring at the Mona Lisa painting for quite awhile)

Sorry if this doesn’t make any sense

have a nice day/evening/night ⭐️

Chishiya's Childhood Best Friend Headcannons!

A/N: Im giggling so hard rn cause I've been planning on a lot of chishiya x childhood bestfriend! reader so this was so ♥ i mean like 'return to me' was legit that shshsjdj tysm for this req <3 i love this req smmm

Pairing: Chishiya x Childhood Bestfriend!Reader

Warning: Season 2 spoilers

Feedback is highly appreciated!!!

Before Borderlands:

both of your parents were friends

all giggling and shit in the background as if they werent shitty people

you held your mom's hand all unamused as they were talking

but then you saw another kid staring at that one mona lisa painting

so of course

you went to him

you started to introduce yourself and chatted with him for a while

you talked more because all he mostly did was hum and nod

both your parents saw how 'close' yall were so they set both of you up with studydates. playdates arent their cup of tea

it took a while for chishiya to open up to you

but of course, you were the only person who comforted him because you saw right through his little charades

im sure you were both so close only because you were so persuasive and just really liked his company!

he does too but he wont let you know that

chishiya also kept you close because of that 'you know me too much'

so its either friendship or death

but you chose friendship of course

when you guys grew older, maybe teenage years,

chishiya really thought you would leave and never see him again

he was a little bit relieved but also partly scared and worried

but you pulled an uno reverse and visited like a lot.

he hates admitting the fact that you're his best friend and probably his only friend

he wouldn't mind you calling him 'chishi', 'shi', 'shiya' and whatever nickname you can get out of his name

you both played games of course.

he made/helped you in mind games

and you helped him with more physical and hands-on things. especially with teamwork.

because that little shit likes doing everything himself and he had to learn how to share

you'd come to him to ask for help and vice versa ,

after a lot of denial of course

can we all agree that chishiya is a bit of a tsundere? because yes.

but he'd be more sleek and good at hiding his feelings.

he'd tease you but you'd tease him back

you'd already call him doctor the moment he joined medical school as a joke

you're definitely going to let him reconsider his point of views and ideals.

he listens but he doesn't apply

he hates how much you care for him,

hates how much you would put him first

but that's cause he likes the affection.

again, he'd lie to himself about his feelings lets be real

but i really do imagine a classic opposites attract dynamic

"somebody will die-" "of fun!"

or like you create the chaos and he is the smart, chilled out chaos enabler

in short, both of you guys are two peas in a pod except that he dislikes admitting it

but he wouldn't mind being by your side

During Borderlands:

i really, honestly, wouldn't think that you'd come in there with him during this time

but if there's a chance that you do join,

fuck you because he is going to be having your back even when you dont realize it

sure, he probably only wants you as an asset. but goddamnit-

you already understand that he is the type of person who would betray others

i think you even told him that both of you should split up so that you wouldnt get in his way

honestly, he thought it was a good idea too

but ofc, every goddamn game you finished, chishiya's outside waiting for you

then both of you agreed thst you'd split up from time to time

but when you guys were in a same match then expect war against the other players

because power duo

especially in a game of clubs

chishiya is honestly very lucky that you got his back in games of spades and clubs

if the game turns out to be diamonds and/or hearts,

you'd help him think and solve situations with him

but for the most part, you're just there under his protection

because people would definitely try to manipulate the both of you or like, mostly you

and if you look bigger, taller and maybe even a little bit ripped than chishiya from all those physical games,

PICK 👏 HIM 👏 UP

like we all saw that bastard jog from those bullets in season 2

YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO PICK HIM UP

when the king of spades is starting to bite yalls asses,

just literally swoop in and pick him up like he's fucking nothing because its definitely better than watching him jog around with his hands in his mf pockets

but i hc that you picked him up in several occasions

hell, you'd pick him up like aguni did niragi

you become very good friends with kuina!!!

she's honestly baffled how you could pick this stone up

oh and you definitely taught her how to read chishiya or how to truly understand his 'cute' antics and remarks

protect him from niragi. please.

he can DEFINITELY protect himself from niragi but

you just selfless and caring like that

it would probably make his heart happy if you do that but yk him

and if you join the jack of hearts game,

then thats where your bond REALLY starts to show

because you trust one another

honestly, you were probably ready to bash that big bully's head in if he started threatening chishiya

chishiya would also reassure you that he would tell you the truth and only the truth

and he knew you were being genuine because everytime you told him his symbol after he told you yours, you'd have a dumbass, dorky smile on your face that he liked so much

y'all would honestly pass the time chatting

philosophy, what the games could mean or even just memories before borderlands

after the king of diamonds game though, he seemed so off

you asked what's wrong and he told you that he was just thinking

and at the time when chishiya was planning to sacrifice himself for usagi, you left him to try and shoot niragi using the gun he gave him

haha, the anger on your face when niragi shot him

but then you were caught off guard when chishiya suddenly went to usagi and you swear to god you heard him say a soft 'sorry'

you almost had a breakdown when he got a second bullet

but instead of choosing to stomp niragi, you decided to stay by chishiya's side and help him stop from bleeding as you lay him next to a car

both of you would then slowly start softly chatting about his life choices

while people were being murdered.

im sure he let you hold him like that,

trying to stop the blood

and omg when he told arisu his secret, you felt so much sympathy for him

then chishiya probably told you that while he was thinking to be selfless for once,

he kept thinking about you and everything you told him

ever since you both met

because before arisu, you were the most selfless and caring person he knew

and after all those times you told him that it would make yourself feel better after you helped others. because you were so sweet

he wanted to try it out for once

and when you both saw the fireworks in the sky, you told him how excited you were to see him again in the real world

After Borderlands:

you were definitely walking together and talking when the meteor disaster happened.

like you were laughing and he was just listening to you

and then you woke up, next to him

different bed of course

and other than the ceiling, he was the first thing you saw

he was looking at you when you woke up

"good morning" he'd say

and you'd be so fucking ecstatic that he was alive

then both of you would just start chatting about how your near-death situation affected you

you were glad to hear that he was planning to change his life ideals and pov

when both of you could walk around the hospital, there was never a moments that a doctor or nurse wouldn't see the both of you chatting together

this is when your bond with him starts to really strengthen