#It feels like time passes slower because I'm taking in more of the world

[fascher]

Something...............................................................

[nhaaauyen]

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART IV: TONIGHT, I WALK AWAY

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part I // part II // part III // part V

wc: 7.8k cw: violence, angst, major character death author's note: Honestly I'm starting to get why TWD writers do what they do after writing this chapter... I also apologize for taking so long for this chapter, my classes are starting now so updates will be a bit a slower </3 **also some eastereggs but the sonnet 73 quote I have is mentioned in the scene where Grayson talks about love. It's pretty much the translated modern English definition of the quote! The make a wish dialogue is also from the movie Dangerously Yours (1937), that scene always gets me so I had to include it haha

You drift in and out of consciousness, the world around you a hazy blur of pain and disjointed voices. Through the fog, you catch glimpses of three figures engaged in intense discussion.

Sevika's there, her face etched with worry. Beside her stands a tall, bald gaunt man and a mask covering the lower half of his face. His eyes are sunken, giving him an almost skeletal appearance. The third figure is shorter, with slicked-back dark hair and a prominent scar running down one side of his face, his right eye a striking shade of green.

Their voices filter through your muddled thoughts:

"...low on medical supplies for a procedure like this," the masked man says, his voice muffled and clinical. "There's no sure chance she can make it."

"I'll go to the hospital."

"It’s too dangerous." The scarred man's voice is sharp and skeptical.

"We've been low on supplies for too long," Sevika argues. "It's time we do it now. We cannot lose any more people."

Their words fade as you slip back into darkness, only to resurface again as you're being moved. You have no idea how much time has passed, but you're on some kind of gurney, the ceiling passing by overhead. You try to move, but your limbs feel heavy and unresponsive. Glancing down, you see your wrists are handcuffed to the sides of the bed.

Panic surges through you as you realize you're being rolled into what looks like a makeshift operating room. The masked man and the scarred one are there, now wearing blood-stained surgical gowns. You try to fight, to call out, but your body won't cooperate.

The scarred man leans over you, his mismatched eyes boring into yours. "It will be over soon," he says, his voice oddly soothing despite the circumstances. Then he's lowering a gas mask over your face, and the world fades to black.

When you wake again, your mind is clearer, though your body feels like it's been run over by a truck. The scarred man is sitting in a chair beside your bed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"Ah, you're awake," he says, leaning forward. "Good. I was beginning to wonder if we'd miscalculated."

You try to speak, but your throat is dry, raw. He holds up a hand, silencing you.  

"No need to strain yourself. I just wanted to... observe you.” He pauses. "It's been a long time since I've had to perform a procedure like that. It’s quite a reminder of what still lurks beyond these walls. How we’ve grown complacent."

Your eyes drift to his face, lingering on the scar that runs down the right side, bisecting his eye. The eye itself is a startling shade of green, almost luminescent against his pale skin. You must have been staring, because the man chuckles, a dry, humorless sound.

"Curious, aren’t you?" A sardonic smile twists his features. "It’s only natural - people always wonder. But few ever ask. It’s a souvenir from when Zaun was still crawling out of the muck. When men I called brothers tried to drag me back down for a piece of land." 

His finger traces the scar slowly, almost lovingly. "This... this was their parting gift." He trails off, then continues in a near-whisper. "Have you ever felt pain so exquisite it becomes transcendent? For days, I danced on the knife's edge between genius and madness."

His gaze refocuses on you, sharp and penetrating. "But pain, you see, can be transformative. It stripped away my naivety, my weakness. It forged me into something stronger, something capable of truly leading Zaun."

“I think I understand why Sevika is so fond of you." His lips curl into something that might be a smile but doesn't reach his eyes. "There's something in you, just like her. That part that's willing to sacrifice."

You furrow your brow, confusion, and wariness warring inside you.

"Some sacrifices are necessary to be made. But they're also weaknesses," He stands, smoothing down his shirt. "Something to consider."

With those cryptic words, he turns and leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. You're left alone, your mind racing with questions. Who were those men? What exactly happened to you? And how much time had gone by?

The weight of uncertainty presses down on you, and exhaustion soon follows. Despite your churning thoughts, your eyelids grow heavy, and you drift into an uneasy sleep.

When you wake again, its by the sound of shuffling feet and the creak of a door opening. The haze of sleep still clings to your mind as you slowly become aware of your surroundings.

Sevika enters, holding a plate of food. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

"Hey," she says finally, her voice softer than you've ever heard it.

"Hey yourself," you reply, unable to keep a slight tremor from your voice.

Sevika sets the plate on your bedside table, then stands awkwardly, as if unsure what to do with her hands. "Thought you might be hungry," she mumbles.

You nod, a thousand questions bubbling up inside you. Where has she been? Why didn't she visit sooner? What happened after the surgery? But looking at her now, seeing the dark circles under her eyes and the way she holds herself - tense, guarded - you decide those questions can wait.

Instead, you pat the bed beside you. "Sit with me?"

Sevika hesitates for a moment, then complies. As she settles beside you, you feel the warmth of her presence, so familiar yet somehow changed.

"I missed you," you say simply.

Sevika's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of emotion crossing her face before she schools it back to neutrality. "I... I'm glad you're okay," she replies, her voice gruff but sincere.

As you and Sevika sit together, you try to maintain a casual conversation, but there's an undercurrent of tension you can't ignore. Sevika's responses are clipped, her gaze never quite meeting yours. It's like she's looking through you, not at you.

"Hey," you say softly, reaching out to touch her arm. "What's going on?"

She turns slowly, her eyes finally meeting yours. But there’s something different in them, something that makes your heart clench. It’s infuriating, this distance she’s putting between you, this wall she’s building brick by brick.

“Sevika,” you say, trying to break through that wall. “Talk to me.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Nothing can happen between us again,” she says, the words falling heavy between you like a death sentence.

You stare at her, disbelief mingling with hurt. “What?”

Her gaze flickers, something like pain flashing in her eyes before she steels herself again. “We can’t do this,” she says, her voice low and strained. “We can’t keep pretending this… whatever this is… can last.”

You feel the ground shift beneath you like the world is falling away, leaving you teetering on the edge of a precipice. “You’re really going to say that after everything?” Your voice cracks, the hurt seeping through despite your best efforts to keep it at bay. “How do you kiss someone, make them believe there’s something real, and then just—throw it away?”

Sevika’s jaw clenches, and she looks away, as if unable to bear the sight of your pain. “You can be mad at me, hate me if you want,” she says. “But it has to be this way.”

“I’m not mad,” you reply, your heart breaking with every word. “I’m hurt, Sevika. I’m hurt because I care about you, and you’re pushing me away like none of it matters.”

“I know,” she whispers, her voice so soft it’s almost lost in the hum of the machines. 

“Then why?” you demand, your voice wavering as you struggle to understand. “Why are you doing this?”

She finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the anguish in her eyes is like a punch to the gut. “Because if I let myself love you,” she says, her voice breaking on the word, “I know we’d never have enough time. ”

Her words hit you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the despair that’s been brewing in your chest. “But isn't some time better than none at all? I'd rather have a handful of precious moments with you than spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if.'” The tears you’ve been holding back now streaming down your face. 

“Even if it hurts, even if it's brief – at least it would be real.”

Sevika shakes her head, her expression a storm of anger and fear. Her words come out in a rush, like she can't hold them back any longer.

"You don't understand. I was okay before you. I was okay with the idea of dying, of existing day after day without purpose until my time ran out. But now?" Her voice hardens. "Now I'm terrified. I'm not okay with losing you. I'm not okay with the thought that you could walk out that door and never come back."

“I didn't need this. I didn't need you to come along and give me a reason to call this godforsaken place home. I didn't need you to make me want to survive instead of just exist.”  She’s practically pleading now.  “Don't you see what you've done to me? Needing you means I have something to lose."

The weight of her confession crushes you, the finality of it sinking in. She’s not just pushing you away—she’s tearing herself apart to do it, ripping out the very thing that might make her feel alive, all because she’s so afraid of the pain it could bring.

“I’d shatter every bone in my body again if it meant keeping you safe,” you say, your voice trembling. “I’d do anything for you, Sevika, and it hurts so bad that you won’t let me.”

She turns her head away. “You’re too stubborn,” she whispers, her voice resigned. “You won’t stop, and neither will I, and it’ll kill us both in the end.”

“You look at me like I’m already dead,” you say, your voice cracking with the weight of your grief. “Like I’m a ghost you’ve been carrying around, waiting for the right moment to bury me.”

She flinches, the words cutting deep. “Because that’s what it feels like,” she confesses. “I feel like I’ve already lost you, and it’s killing me. I’d rather lose you now when we still have a chance to walk away than lose you out there, where I can’t protect you.”

The following silence is deafening, the air thick with everything neither of you can bring yourselves to say. You reach out, your hand trembling as you gently caress her cheek, trying to offer comfort in the only way you know how. She leans into your touch for a moment, her eyes closing as if she’s trying to savor it, to hold onto it before it’s gone.

“Are you doing this to protect me, or are you protecting yourself?” you ask softly, the question hanging in the air like a lifeline, offering her one last chance to admit the truth.

She opens her eyes, and the pain you see there nearly undoes you. “Both,” she admits. “I’m protecting both of us. I’ll never survive the day I lose you. And I can’t—” Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard, her eyes pleading with you to understand. “I can’t live.”

Your heart shatters as the reality of her words sinks in. She’s already decided, already convinced herself that this is the only way to keep you both safe, even if it means tearing herself apart in the process.

“Can I be alone?” you ask, your voice small and broken, the words barely escaping your lips.

Sevika nods, her expression tightening as she takes a step back. “Yeah,” she says. “I’ll go.”

She turns to leave, but before she can take another step, you reach out. “Sevika, wait,” you say, your voice filled with desperation. “Can you hand me my bag?”

She hesitates, her gaze flickering to the bag and then back to you. After a moment, she nods and hands it to you, her fingers brushing yours for the briefest of moments, sending a jolt of longing through you. You rummage through the bag, your heart pounding as you pull out the familiar fabric of her shawl.

You hold it out to her. “This belongs to you.”

Sevika stares at the shawl, her eyes widening as she realizes what it means. For a moment, she just stands there, looking at it like it’s a lifeline she’s too afraid to grasp. Then, she takes it from you.

She looks at you, and in her eyes, you see all the things she wants to say, all the things she’s too scared to admit. And then, without another word, she turns and walks out of the room, the door closing quietly behind her, leaving you alone with nothing but the ghost of her touch and the scent of her shawl lingering in the air.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

You didn’t accept any visitors for days, under the guise that you were too tired and needed the rest to recover. But as tempting as curling in bed and crying over a woman that you never even had a proper relationship with was, you knew you couldn’t hide away forever.

Blinking, you see a group of people piling into your room.

Vander's deep voice rumbles, "Easy now, let's not overwhelm her."

Caitlyn is standing over you. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Before you can answer, Powder chimes in, "Bet you feel like you've been hit by a truck. Am I right?"

"Something like that," you croak.

Your attention is drawn to the doorway where Grayson stands, little Ren in her arms. The child is clutching Grayson's yellow armband tightly.

Grayson sets Ren down gently. "Go on, little one," she says softly.

Ren doesn't need to be told twice. She rushes to your bedside, her small hands gripping the edge of the mattress. "Miss, are you okay?" she asks, her voice shakes slightly. "Will you be like Sevika?"

The innocence in her question tugs at your heart. You reach out, ignoring the twinge of pain from the movement and the mention of Sevika, to pat her hand. "No, darling," you reply softly. "Sevika is unique. I'll be just fine."

Grayson moves closer, her stern expression softening slightly. "That was brave," she says. "But also very idiotic of you."

You frown at the comment, the words too similar to Sevika’s at the prison.  

Vander's voice pulls you from your thoughts. "You gave us quite a scare," he says. "But you're tough. You'll pull through."

Caitlyn nods in agreement. "We've managed to replenish some of our medical supplies thanks to the hospital mission." she informs you. 

Vi adds with a smirk, "And don't even think about trying to get up and be a hero again anytime soon."

“Yeah… I wouldn’t dream of it,” you respond hoarsely.  

Over the next week, your family comes and goes, their visits being the highlight of your monotonous days.  Grayson usually stopped by with Ren, the two were closer than you expected but Marcus had flitted in and out of Ren’s life so often that Grayson stepped up as a parental figure.  You offered to take care of the kid while you were still bed-bound, and Grayson only reluctantly agreed when you assured her it wouldn’t obstruct your healing process.

You find yourself sitting up in bed, Ren cross-legged beside you. Math worksheets are spread out between you.

"If an apple cost three dollars and you needed to buy five apples, how much would that cost?"

Ren's brow furrows in concentration. "Um... fifteen dollars?"

You beam at her. "That's right! You're getting good at this."

A knock at the door interrupts your math lesson and Vi pokes her head in, her red hair slightly disheveled.

"Hey, time to get moving," she says with a grin.

You turn to Ren, giving her a warm smile. "Let's do this again tomorrow, sweetie?"

Ren nods enthusiastically, gathering her papers. "Alright! Bye-bye, miss! I hope you feel better!"

As Ren scampers out, Vi approaches, offering her arm for support. You wince as you stand, your body still protesting the movement.

“Easy,” she murmurs, her tone softening as she watches your struggle. “Take it slow.”

You grit your teeth, focusing on her voice, on the feel of her arm supporting you. Slowly, you manage a few steps, each one a little less painful than the last. 

“How’s it feel?” Vi asks, keeping pace with you, her gaze never leaving your face.

“Like hell,” you admit with a shaky laugh, though there’s a small sense of victory in the simple act of standing on your own two feet again. “But better than yesterday.”

Vi nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Progress,” she says. “You’re getting stronger.”

As you slowly make your way down the hallway, Vi starts chatting about her day. "You wouldn't believe the shit from yesterday. We were chasing some survivors that tried to steal our shit through an alley, and then Sevika shows up out of nowhere and--" 

The moment the words are out, Vi winces, realizing her mistake too late.  You feel a sharp pang in your chest at the mention of Sevika's name. 

"Uh, anyway, we got the guy in the end.” she says.

“She… was?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Vi looks away, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Yeah,” she says softly. “Didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“It’s good,” you say, though the words feel like a lie even as they leave your lips. “It’s good that she caught them.”

Vi nods. “I’m sorry.” 

You shake your head, forcing a small smile. “It’s okay. It’s just… I miss her.  It’s stupid, we weren’t anything.”

“I know,” she says. “But it’s not stupid.”

There’s a long silence, the kind that’s filled with all the words neither of you know how to say. “If you didn’t have Caitlyn, would you be okay with all of this? Would you be able to live with everything we do?”

She’s quiet for a moment as she considers your words. “Do I have a choice?” she finally says, her voice tinged with a sadness you’ve rarely heard from her. “I have Powder. I have you, Vander… my family. I’d feel incomplete, sure, but I don’t have a choice. I have to keep going.”

“We’ll keep going, together.” She adds.

“Thanks, Vi.” Despite your gratefulness, her words feel like they’re coming from a distance, muffled by the grief you’re still trying to process. 

Your family helps you through it all, they talk to you about everything and nothing, filling the silence with stories. The days pass, and slowly, you begin to reclaim small pieces of yourself. You walk more, the physical therapy sessions become less of a struggle and more of a routine.

And each night, when the room is quiet and you’re alone with your thoughts, you think of Sevika. It’s not easy. Some days, the weight of it all feels unbearable, like you’re drowning in a sea of what-ifs and lost chances. But you keep going, step by step, knowing that it’s all you can do.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting session, you lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling as your thoughts drift. You think about Sevika, about the last time you saw her, the pain in her eyes as she walked away. And you wonder if she feels the same weight, if she’s struggling just as much to move on.

You close your eyes, and for a moment, you imagine her here, standing by your side. And as you drift off to sleep, you could swear you hear her voice, soft and broken, whispering in the dark.

“I failed you.”

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The pantry is filled with the scent of canned goods and the faint rustle of paper bags. You’re focused on stacking cans of beans when your grip falters, and one slips from your fingers.

Before it can hit the ground, a hand darts out and catches it. You look up to see a man with a cocky grin. He’s tall and lean, with slicked-back hair and piercing teal eyes.  You don’t know why, but he looked oddly familiar.

“Well, well,” he drawls. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing down here? Are we that understaffed that we’re making the injured work now?”

You snatch the can back from him. “Not that it’s any of your business,” you reply curtly, setting the can back on the shelf, “but I wanted to do this.”

He chuckles, leaning against the shelf with a casual arrogance. “Looks like supplies are running a bit thin,” he comments slyly, his eyes flicking to the half-empty shelves. “Maybe you should take it easy before you use up what little energy we have left.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your patience wearing thin. “I’m not interested in your opinion.”

Before he can retort, the door to the pantry swings open with a loud creak, and Sevika steps inside. The air changes instantly when her gaze zeroes in on the man. 

“Finn,” she growls. “What are you doing here?”

Finn straightens up and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just making sure our friend here isn’t overworking herself,” he says innocently.

“Get lost,” Sevika snaps. “Now.”

With a lazy shrug, Finn backs off, giving you a final, lingering look before sauntering out of the pantry. The door closes behind him, leaving you alone with Sevika. 

Sevika turns to you. “I was told you’re working here again,” she says, her voice sharp with disapproval. “Are you stupid? You’re barely healed.”

You bristle at her tone. "I needed to do something."

"Yeah, like babysitting Ren," she snaps. “Not this.”

"Why does it matter what I do?" you challenge, your voice rising.

For a moment, Sevika doesn’t answer, but then her eyes widen.

“You’re bleeding.” 

You blink, confused. “What?”

You look down and see a trickle of blood seeping through the bandages on your side. The pain hits you a second later, sharp and burning, but you grit your teeth, refusing to show weakness in front of her.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, trying to downplay it. “I can bandage it myself.”

But Sevika is already moving toward you, her expression darkening with worry. “You’re not going back to your place like this,” she mutters. “Come on. My place is closer.”

Before you can protest, she’s already scooping you up into her arms. The world blurs around you as she carries you through the streets and you’re too shocked to resist.

When you reach her place, she sets you down on the edge of her bed, her touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before she pulls away.

“Just sit,” she instructs as she moves to grab a first aid kit from a nearby drawer.

“I can do it.” 

Sevika shakes her head, her expression set in a way that leaves no room for argument. “I have experience with this,” she says quietly. “Let me.”

You watch in silence as she works. Her hands, usually so strong and rough, are gentle as they press a fresh bandage against your skin. There’s a tenderness in the way she handles you, in the way she refuses to meet your gaze as she focuses on the wound, that makes your chest ache.

Finally, Sevika finishes. She stands, the distance between you growing once more as she busies herself with putting away the first aid kit, her movements stiff and mechanical.

“Thanks.” You want to leave, not to be any more inconvenient than you already were but Sevika replies before you can say anything.

“You should rest,” she says, her voice flat, devoid of the warmth that was there just moments ago. “Don’t push yourself like that again.”

You reluctantly agree to stay and the tension in Sevika's shoulders eases slightly. She mumbles something about bringing dinner later and leaves you to rest.

Left alone, you take in your surroundings. The room is sparse, almost impersonal. Unlike the chaos in the other rooms, this space feels hollow. There are no personal belongings, no knick-knacks, nothing to suggest that she even uses this bed. It's as if the room itself is holding its breath, existing in a state of perpetual temporariness.

Exhaustion soon overtakes you, and you drift off to sleep. But you soon wake again at the sound of muffled voices.  Through the haze of half-consciousness, you hear one of Sevika's people inviting her to a party, but she declines. 

"Nah, I'm staying in today," you hear her say.

The voices fade, and you slowly wake up, disoriented. You stumble to the doorway of the living room, blinking sleep from your eyes. Sevika is there, dressed in casual clothes – a grey tank top and worn jeans with her hair down, falling in messy waves around her face.  She's cleaning up, a pile of bottles in her arms when she notices you.

"You're awake," she says, startled. "Shit, did I wake you up?"

You shake your head, your voice still rough with sleep. "No, you're good... Do you need help with that?"

"No. Fuck, sit down. What are you doing walking around?"

Still groggy, you comply without argument, sinking into the couch. Sevika dumps the bottles in a bag and turns back to you.

"I'm making dinner," she says, washing her hands at the sink. "You're okay with instant noodles and spam?"

The domesticity of the moment catches you off guard. "Sounds delicious," you manage to say.

Sevika nods and turns to the small kitchenette. You watch her move around the space. It's surreal, seeing her like this – relaxed, casual, making dinner for you both. For a moment, you can almost pretend things are different between you.

Sevika settles on the far arm of the couch next to you, the small distance between you both feeling more like a chasm. 

"Chopsticks or fork?" she asks, holding out both options.

"Chopsticks," you reply, and a ghost of a smile flickers across her face.

"Good choice," she murmurs, handing them to you.

You eat in comfortable silence, stealing glances at her when you think she's not looking. When you finish, Sevika collects the empty bowls.

"Want dessert?"

"Sure," you nod, watching as she retrieves an apple from the kitchen.

She settles back on the arm of the couch, peeling the apple with a small knife. "How's the physical therapy going?" Sevika asks, breaking the silence.

You shrug. "It's... going. Slow progress, but progress nonetheless."

She nods, placing slices onto a plate. "That's good. Don't push yourself too hard."

"Says the woman who never knows when to quit," you tease gently.

A wry smile tugs at her lips. "Do as I say, not as I do."

As you reach for the last slice, Sevika’s hand brushes your cheek. You freeze, the touch unexpected, and you look up at her, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest.

“There’s an eyelash,” she says softly, her voice gentle as she carefully removes it from your face. She holds it up for you to see, the tiny, delicate lash resting on her fingertip. “Make a wish.”

You stare at the eyelash, your mind racing with all the things you could wish for, should wish for. But the words stick in your throat, and you find yourself frozen, unable to think of anything that could possibly fix what’s been broken.

“Did you wish?”

You shake your head slightly, the corners of your mouth turning up in a sad smile. “I... I didn't get the chance.”

She raises an eyebrow, her gaze piercing as she studies you. “And there’s something you wish for?”

“Yes,” You hesitate, the words coming slowly, painfully, like pulling them from some deep, hidden place inside you. “I was wishing… that we were two other people. Two people who didn’t have to say goodbye.”

The silence that follows is thick, charged with the tension of emotions neither of you can afford to express. Sevika’s expression tightens, her jaw clenching as she absorbs your words.

“You know, if you say it out loud, it doesn’t come true,” she says, her voice rough, like she’s fighting against the vulnerability of the moment.

“Do you believe that?” 

She looks down at the eyelash, still resting on her finger, before blowing it away into the air. Her gaze follows it for a moment before she looks back at you. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unmovable, like a finality neither of you can escape. 

“We should sleep,” Sevika says finally. “It’s late.”

You nod, knowing she’s right. There’s nothing more to be said, nothing that can change the way things are. 

“Thank you,” you say softly.

Sevika looks at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nods, just once, and steps back, letting you go. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you echo, your heart heavy as you turn and walk away.

As you reach the end of the hallway, you glance back, just once. Sevika is still standing in the doorway, watching you, her figure framed by the dim light. There’s something in her posture, something in the way she’s holding herself that makes you think she might be wishing too—wishing for something that neither of you can have.

But then she steps back, closing the door behind her, and you’re left standing in the cold, empty hallway, the echoes of what could have been ringing in your ears.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the makeshift shooting range. You and Grayson stand side by side, both of you facing a row of targets at the far end of the field. You’ve been practicing your aim for a while now, but your focus has been off, your shots missing the mark more often than not.

“You haven’t said anything about my shit shot,” you mutter, glancing sideways at Grayson, expecting some form of criticism.

She shrugs, her eyes on the distant targets. "You're injured. Why would I?"

You snort. "Liar. Weeks ago, you'd have torn me apart. What's different now?"

Grayson doesn't answer, instead gesturing to a nearby bench overlooking the community below. You follow her, settling onto the worn wood with a sigh.The elevated view makes the world seem vast and small all at once.

Grayson passes you a canteen, and you take a long drink before speaking again. "You snitched to Sevika about me working."

Grayson raises an eyebrow. "Snitching? Are we ten?"

"She didn't need to know," you mutter, avoiding her gaze.

"You were going hurt yourself," Grayson says softly. "And you needed to see her. For closure, at least."

You fall silent, not wanting to delve into the complicated mess of emotions surrounding Sevika. Instead, you change the subject. "How's Ren?"

“Ren’s sleeping in today. She’s been up late these past few nights, working on that puzzle I gave her.”  Grayson’s face immediately brightens at the mention of Ren.

“She’s got that stubborn streak. Wonder where she gets it.” 

“Must be the company she keeps,” Grayson replies, her voice laced with affection. “Marcus is at the walls today, keeping an eye on things. It’s been quiet, for the most part.”

You nod, your gaze drifting back to the field. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” you muse. “Every day is the same. We do the same things, see the same faces… What makes it worth living?”

Grayson leans back on the bench, her eyes scanning the horizon as she considers her answer. “You make your own reasons,” she says finally, her tone thoughtful. “For me, it’s taking care of Ren. Making sure she has something to hold onto, something good in this world.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Grayson is choosing her words carefully. “I never thought of myself as the maternal type,” she continues, sounding almost wistful. “But with Ren… It’s different. She’s taught me more about love than I ever knew.  In whatever time I got left here, I want to continue it with her, to see her grow up and prove there’s still something more for us here.”

You feel a pang in your chest, suddenly remembering Sevika and her belief that there would never be enough time for the two of you. But where Grayson found strength in loving deeply despite that, Sevika chose to close herself off, to protect herself from the inevitable pain.

Grayson looks at you, her eyes filled with a quiet understanding. “Sometimes, the hardest thing is to keep loving, even when you know it won’t last. But that’s what makes it worth it. Knowing that you made the most of the time you had, that you loved fully, even if it hurts in the end.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the truth of them resonating with a painful clarity. 

“It’s hard,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “When you know it’s not going to last.”

Grayson nods, her expression gentle. “It is. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it. You have to find your own reason to keep going, to keep loving, even when it seems like everything is falling apart.”

The conversation settles into a quiet lull, the words lingering between you as the sun dips lower in the sky. You take another sip from the flask, the burn of the alcohol doing little to numb the ache in your chest.

“You’re always looking out for us, making sure we’re okay.” you say after a moment, your voice tinged with admiration. 

“I’m satisfied  – knowing that I’ve done what I can to make this place a little better, to take care of the people who matter.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, the words carrying more weight than you intended. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she replies gently. “We’re all in this together. And besides,” she adds with a small, teasing smile, “someone has to keep you in line.”

You chuckle, the sound lightening the heavy atmosphere just a bit.

But the peaceful moment on the hill was brief, the tranquility shattered by the sound of rapid footsteps and panicked crying. You and Grayson turn to see Ren running towards you, her face streaked with tears and her small body shaking with sobs.

Grayson immediately drops to her knees, catching Ren in her arms. "What happened, sweetheart?" she asks, her voice calm but laced with urgency.

Ren tries to speak through her tears, her words coming out in broken gasps. "Daddy said... we were going on a trip... but the monsters... they blocked us and he couldn’t close the gate... now they're coming to get us!"

As if on cue, screams erupt from the direction of the community. You and Grayson exchange a quick glance, both reaching for your weapons without hesitation.

Ren clings to Grayson's yellow armband, her eyes wide with terror. "I want to go with you!" she cries.

Grayson cups Ren's face gently, her voice soft but firm. "Darling, listen to me. I will come back, I promise. But right now, you need to get to safety. Can you be brave for me?"

Ren nods, her lower lip trembling. You know without words what needs to be done - get everyone to safety.

You both sprint down the hill, Grayson carrying Ren. As you near the community, the chaos becomes more apparent. Gunshots ring out, mixing with screams of panic and pain. People are running in all directions, fear etched on their faces.

Vi appears beside you, her red hair wild and her eyes blazing. "We're seriously underarmed right now!" she shouts over the noise. "Sevika's crew is out!"

"We have to make do," you yell back, scanning the area. You spot Caitlyn and a few others on the walls, their snipers picking off threats in the distance.

You, Vi, and the handful of armed residents form a protective line, herding panicked civilians towards their homes. "Get inside! Lock your doors!" you shout, your voice hoarse from the effort.

Children cry for their parents, the elderly struggle to move quickly enough. You see a young mother stumble, her baby wailing in her arms. You rush to her side, helping her to her feet and guiding her to safety.

Everywhere you look, there's movement – people running, fighting, falling. 

The air is thick with the stench of death and the deafening cacophony of gunfire. You're shoulder to shoulder with VI, both of you firing relentlessly at the endless wave of walkers. Sweat stings your eyes as you shout, "Vi! On your left!"

She pivots, taking down three walkers in quick succession. But for every one you drop, two more seem to take its place. The situation is rapidly spiraling out of control, and a sinking feeling in your gut tells you you're fighting a losing battle.

But suddenly, powerful headlights cut through the darkness as a convoy of trucks roars onto the scene. Your heart leaps – you'd recognize that cavalry anywhere.

As if materializing from thin air, more trucks appear, effortlessly mowing down walkers and clearing streets. One screeches to a halt in front of you, and then there she is.

A familiar figure vaults from the truck bed – Sevika, her red shawl billowing behind her. She swiftly unslings a shotgun from her back and starts blasting walkers left and right. Her face is composed, every feature carefully controlled, but when her eyes find yours, a fleeting shadow passes over them—a trace of fear and concern.

"You okay?" she shouts over the din, closing the distance between you.

You nod, breathless. "A lot are injured. I don't know, there's too many – I think they're coming from the west gate. Ren said something about Marcus not being able to close it."

Sevika's jaw tightens. She yanks out a radio, barking orders to dispatch teams to the west gate. In seconds, she's handing out weapons, her voice ringing with authority. "Split up! I want a team grabbing as many injured as possible. Anyone bitten, take them out."

As you move to join the fray, Sevika's hand clamps on your arm. "No," she growls. "What the hell are you doing? Get to safety with the others. You're still injured."

"Fine," you concede. "But I'm finding Grayson first."

Sevika gives a curt nod before sprinting back into action. You catch a glimpse of Vi, her red hair unmistakable as she leaps into a truck bed. 

You weave through the chaos, dodging walkers and searching for Grayson. Gunfire echoes off buildings, punctuated by the revving of engines and the sounds of walkers being dispatched. 

A scream to your left – you spin, firing instinctively. A walker drops, inches from a couple. You quickly wave to them to follow and you sprint to the safe house together. Your leg protests, but adrenaline keeps you moving.

Your heart pounds as you finally spot Grayson, but she's going the opposite direction. 

"Grayson!" you shout. "Sevika and her team are here. We need to get everyone to safety!"

She doesn't slow down. "There's someone stuck in a car!"

That's when you see it - a vehicle surrounded by a writhing mass of walkers, their decaying hands clawing at the windows. Inside, you catch a glimpse of a terrified face.

Without hesitation, you sprint after Grayson. The two of you work in tandem, picking off walkers. When you reach the car, Grayson covers you as you wrench the door open. A young boy, no older than seven, practically leaps into her arms.

"We've got to move!" Grayson shouts.

You guys run, the child clinging to her as you lead the way.  You’re clearing the path, and you’re halfway to the safehouse when you hear the dreaded click of an empty chamber.

"I'm out!" you yell.

Grayson turns, her eyes flashing with a decision you can see forming before she even speaks. "Take the kid. Go!"

"Wait, we can make it together!"

She shakes her head, placing the boy into your arms. "Sevika's crew is here, remember? I'll be okay. Get everyone to safety!"

Before you can protest, she's shoving you toward safety, using her body as a shield for the child. You run, every step feeling like a betrayal, but knowing you have to trust her.

You make it to a house, handing off the child to waiting arms. Your lungs burn as you gasp for air, eyes scanning the chaos for any sign of Grayson.

Suddenly, Sevika's there, her face smeared with grime and blood but her eyes alight with fierce triumph. "We closed the gate. Got them all."

Relief floods you for a moment, but then reality crashes back. "Wait, where's Grayson?"

Confusion flickers across Sevika's face, but before she can respond, a heart-wrenching wail cuts through the air. You both rush outside, joining a growing crowd.

The scene that greets you turns your blood to ice. Caitlyn is on the ground, her body wracked with sobs. Vi kneels beside her, arms wrapped around her shaking form. "I couldn't save her," Caitlyn chokes out between gasps. "I couldn't shoot them fast enough."

Her sniper lies discarded in the dirt, and that's when you see her. Grayson.

The world seems to tilt on its axis. You stumble forward, unable to process what you're seeing. Grayson, who was just beside you moments ago. Grayson, who sacrificed herself to save a child. Grayson, whose quiet strength held your community together.

She now lies on the ground, her body wracked with violent coughs, blood staining her lips. Her breaths had grown shallow, each one more of a struggle than the last, and when she reached for Sevika’s hand, you knew what she was asking for. Sevika’s fingers trembled as she grasped Grayson’s hand, and when Grayson whispered, “Do it,” you saw a flash of something break inside Sevika.

She obeyed.

The gunshot echoed in your ears, louder than the chaos around you, but it was the sight of Sevika gently closing Grayson’s eyes that broke you. Sevika had always been unbreakable, she seemed immune to the horrors of this world. But as she knelt beside Grayson, you saw the cracks forming.  She closed Grayson’s eyes, her hand trembling just for a second before she stood up, towering over the body like a stone sentinel. 

You could barely breathe, the grief suffocating you, making it impossible to think about anything other than how many bodies that needs burying tomorrow. How many families would be broken by the news? How many children would cry for family and friends who would never come home? 

“Grayson?” Ren’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with innocence and confusion. The kid was supposed to be inside the safe house but instead, she stood there, eyes wide and uncomprehending, staring at the lifeless form on the ground. “Why is Grayson sleeping? Tell her to wake up… We won, didn’t we?”

You wanted to tell her something—anything—but the words choked in your throat. Ren dropped to her knees beside Grayson, her tiny hands shaking as they touched the cold, lifeless body.

Sevika finally moved, her expression unreadable, her walls up higher than ever. Without a word, she reached into her pocket and pulled out Grayson’s yellow band. She knelt down, her massive frame suddenly so small beside Ren, and gently placed the band in the child’s trembling hands.

Ren looked up at Sevika, eyes full of questions. But before anything could be said, Silco emerged from the shadows, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. He was flanked by his men, their faces grim and cold, and at the center of it all was Marcus.

He was barely recognizable—his face a mangled mess of bruises and blood. He was dragged forward, forced to his knees in the dirt where Grayson had fallen. The sight of him brought Sevika to her feet, her fists clenched tight. You could see the battle raging inside her, the desire to end him right then and there, but she held back.

"Look at him," he began, his tone soft, almost conversational, as if he were discussing something trivial. "A man who betrayed the very community that kept him protected him fed and protected. Who left nothing but the ashes of his own cowardice."

He walked slowly around Marcus, like a predator circling its prey. "This is the price of betrayal, the cost of thinking you can stand in the way of what must be done. You all know him," Silco continued, addressing the crowd that had gathered, their eyes fixed on the broken man at his feet. "You know his face, his uniform, his lies. But you must also know this: in a world where there are no second chances, there are no second thoughts."

Silco’s voice grew harder, colder, as he leaned down close to Marcus’s ear. "Your cowardice, your betrayal, a mistake that cost how many lives today? And now, you will pay the price for that."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final, and Marcus’s body shuddered, knowing what was coming. Silco straightened, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Let this be a lesson to all who would think to cross us, to cross me. There is no forgiveness in this world, only retribution."

You don’t know what happened next, because you’re taking Ren into your arms and you’re moving – away from the crowd, away from the punishment that you know her father will face.

Ren clings to you, burying her face in your chest, and you hold her close, wishing you could shield her from all of this. "What’s happening to Daddy?" she asks, her voice muffled by your shirt. "And Grayson?"

You didn’t have an answer. The only thing you could do was hold her tighter, trying to block out the screams, the fire, the blood.

Time passes, the night dragging on in a blur of grief. Inside the house, the silence was deafening. You had scrubbed the blood from Ren’s skin, but it still lingered in the air, the scent of death refusing to leave. Grayson’s face kept flashing before your eyes, her last breath, her last words, the way her body crumpled in Sevika’s arms.

And now, as you stared out the window, you saw them—Silco’s men, forming a straight, omnious line as they marched out into the night. At the center of it all was a giant wooden cross, and tied to it was Marcus. His head hung low, his body limp, but he was still alive.

Your breath caught in your throat when Sevika looked up at the window. For a moment, your eyes locked, and you saw nothing in her gaze but a cold, empty challenge. The Sevika you knew wasn’t there, but replaced by someone who had buried whatever was left of her soul beneath layers of survival and duty. She turns away, breaking the gaze as she climbed into the backseat of a vehicle.  You watch as the trucks disappeared into the night until the only thing you could see was the small form of the cross.

The night presses in around you, heavy with loss, and you wonder if anything would ever feel whole again.

taglist:

@mirconreadzztuff22 @lils-1979 @veoomvroom @schmoni

@poxismind @kittykatz1227 @archangeldyke-all @abbyssgf @ivorydevil

@lez-zuha @iamastar @jellyfishrnice @anemoxlys @l0vel3tterl0ver

@lavendersgirl @h0pe-scotch @lia-winther @kittykatz1227 @dontknowwhenispawned

@sevikitty @sarahduke @raphaellearp @cewl-casper @crying-lighting443

@sodavrr @sweet-lover-girl @love-sevikalove @pinkyykisses @glass-apothecary

@mulan-but-gay @lesbnrock @hyuckiesoftie

[crudely-drawn-ben]

Introducing Trilogy

Yesterday I released Trilogy, a new tabletop RPG crafted to support you in having grand adventures in worlds of your own making.

There are several reasons I started writing Trilogy, but the biggest one is that I ran a Dungeon World podcast called Crudely Drawn Swords for seven years and that was a lot of time to think about what we were playing. To a degree Trilogy is the game I wish that we could have had to run the podcast.

Starting from the question "what would a purely PbtA game for epic fantasy look like?" I started thinking more widely - what do I want from a fantasy game? And the truth is that I want a game that supports the structure of characters and their interactions but doesn't tie itself to a specific setting.

Trilogy begins with The Appendices - conventionally in epic fantasy these are at the end and document information about the wider world that might not have made it into the story, but here it is where you sit down as a group and decide what tone you want your game to have, and your world looks like. What kind of place is it? What magic is there? What is religion like? What are the major cultures where the story begins? How would it feel to be in this world? Trilogy doesn't tell you any of these things, it gives you the tools to think through how you want your world to look.

This creates a secondary challenge - without knowing what the world looks like, how could I design character classes for this type of game? Trilogy answers this by going back to the fundamentals - instead of a conventional character class, the playbooks in Trilogy represent a narrative arc. Some of them, like The Fighter, The Priest, or The Magus, look like familiar classes. Others, such as The Volunteer, The Mentor, The Weapon, or The Defeated, are a little different. Character arcs have a set of turning points, story beats that allow you to advance along your arc after you have collected a certain amount of experience. Some are positive and others negative, you choose which ones you want to hit and when, but every character's story has its highs and lows and to get the most from the game you need to lean into both. A character can pass through three arcs as they grow and change, like the three volumes of a trilogy.

The aim of the game is to create a slower but satisfying sense of progression - instead of hit points characters take Stress and Harm like in other Powered by the Apocalypse games that can have both mechanical and narrative effects. That makes combat feel dangerous, but the game also offers more ways to solve problems without getting into combat - I have played games where the player characters never got into a fight, instead resolving confrontations through an ingenious selection of alternative strategies including "lying" and "vomiting magic ink all over the floor." I'm genuinely enthusiastic about this game - I think I would be as excited about it if somebody else had written it. It leans hard into the joy of discovery and the excitement of adventure - you can play it as spooky and whimsical or gritty and hard-edged and anywhere in between.

Because I was writing it I even got to make most of the examples of play roll out as the story of someone's game, something I always appreciate when I read it. It also contains every technique I use as a GM in the hope that even before people get the chance to play it (heaven forbid any TTRPG afficionado have books we haven't got around to playing yet!) people who read it will still be able to use that advice in their other games. So that's Trilogy, the game I've been working on for the last few years. I think it's pretty great and I hope you will too:

Obviously it's a full-priced game and that's a big gamble from an unfamiliar creator - if you want an idea of what it's like in practice we've got the CDS team back together and we're starting a streamed campaign so you have a chance to see it in action. You can find that over on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxpXacko9Nc

The first episode includes me notably failing to use OBS at both the beginning and end, and I can't make any promises things will improve in that regard, but it should be a good opportunity to see how the game shapes up from this start and with this crew I know it's going to be funny and take some wild swings. If you're interested in reviewing Trilogy or you really want to give it a try but you can't afford it, drop me a message

[dontyouworrydaddy]

𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒

Mike Schmidt x fem! Reader

summary: It‘s your and Mike‘s second year anniversary 💘💘

warning: none :)

A/N: this is soooo short and I‘m so sorry :( Also I‘m sorry for disappearing for so suddenly. I literally had a mental breakdown because of tumblr and not saving the fanfic I wrote💀 Yes I‘m dramatic… But to be fair it was very well written etc. etc.

Anyways hope you enjoy. Love youuuu <333

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

The city lights twinkled like distant stars and the beautiful view reminded you of Mike’s eyes. Always full with hope and twinkling with a bright light. It’s a thing you noticed about him in the early days of you guys dating.

Celebrating your two-year anniversary, Mike had planned everything to perfection - a fancy dinner at your favorite restaurant followed by a romantic stroll through the park. The laughter and love-filled conversations made the evening magical.

"You know, I still can't believe it's been two years," Mike said, his eyes gleaming with affection.

"I know, right? It feels like just yesterday when we met. I can‘t believe how fast time passes by…" you replied, your heart swelling with happiness.

The park was beautifully quiet with just the gentle rustling of leaves creating a soothing melody. However, as the night grew deeper, a chill crept into the air, and your high heels began to make your feet ache.

"Mike, I think I'm getting a bit cold... and my feet are killing me," you said, trying to mask your discomfort.

Immediately, Mike stopped and took off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. "You should have told me sooner, Y/N," he said, concern lacing his voice.

The warmth of his jacket was a welcome relief. You smiled, feeling cared for. "Thank you, Mike. You always know how to make me feel better."

As you continued to walk, your steps became slower due to the pain in your feet. Noticing this, Mike gently scooped you up in his arms without a word, carrying you as if you weighed nothing.

"Mike, you don't have to—"

"Shh, it's our special day. I want to take care of you," he interrupted with a tender smile.

The world seemed to fade away as you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The walk to his home was filled with comfortable silence, the kind only shared by two hearts in sync.

Arriving home, Mike carefully set you down on the sofa. "Let me get you into something more comfortable," he said, heading to his bedroom to fetch you some clothes.

Dressed in his old band shirtshirt and soft sweatpants (that is way too big for you), you felt a sense of belonging. Mike then led you to his bedroom, where he gently tucked you into bed, ensuring you were comfortable.

"Thank you for everything, Mike. Tonight was perfect," you murmured, your eyelids heavy with sleep.

"Anything for you, my beautiful beautiful love. My future wife. Happy anniversary," he replied, his voice soft and full of love.

Mike slid into bed beside you, wrapping an arm around you. You snuggled closer to him, feeling safe and cherished. As you both drifted off to sleep, knowing the love you feel will never die. In fact, it will grow stronger each day passing.

[esamastation]

Part fifty-six of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: forty-seven forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five

-

Sephiroth knows he's on borrowed time. He bought it, accidentally, with his Qi-deviation… but it's been well over a week since then, without any other deviations. Instead he has had other more interesting developments… and the timer never stopped ticking.

For over a week he's been fine - for over a week he's been doing… pretty much nothing but training. Which in PIDW wouldn't have been a big deal - things happened slower, developments took time, everyone went into seclusion every now and then, and it was fine. When your life revolves around cultivation, haste is an enemy. Cultivation takes decades - sometimes centuries! You need to take your time with it! Months upon months had passed Shen Qingqiu by without him doing anything but laying and reading, and it had been great!

But he's in a sci-fi fantasy dystopia, in the middle of a war, and he's the Big Bad super SOLDIER hybrid. Something the world seems keen to remind him.

"Tseng of the Turks," his new guard introduces himself in the front of the charcoal burner's house. "I will be taking over for Reno and Rude."

Sephiroth can almost see a clock behind Tseng, ticking down to a deadline. He's just as sharply handsome as the game art made him seem - and even less flexible. Everything about him from his posture up his clothing to the precise lack of expression screams you're wasting the company's time, and mine.

"I know who you are," Sephiroth says, setting his face carefully blank as the vibes around the house just about plummet. "To think I rate such a high level watchman."

"Your wellbeing is of the highest priority to the company," Tseng agrees. "I'm here to ensure your recovery goes by smoothly so that you can return to your duties promptly."

Arching a brow, Sephiroth folds his arms. Well, isn't that a corporate speech if he's ever heard it. "I'm honoured," he says. "Though I thought the highest priority for me was to, what was it… stay here and get my shit together?"

Tseng's expression doesn't even twitch. "According to Reno's and Rude's reports, your shit seems to be held together remarkably well."

… oh? Smiling a little, Sephiroth looks Tseng up and down. "You'd think so, hm?"

Tseng is quiet for a moment before clasping his hands behind his back. "We shall see. For now, you should act as though nothing has changed. Pretend I'm not even here. I won't disturb your training."

"I don't think I can," Sephiroth muses, testing the waters. "Your very presence is disturbing."

Not even a twitch of an eye lash. "Are you disturbed now?"

Oh, what a bitch! Sephiroth likes him already. "I guess we shall see, at that. Now, where is Angeal?" he glances around, even though he knows Angeal didn't come back with Tseng.

"On a mission, I presume," Tseng says, and Sephiroth casts him a sharp look. Tseng faces him blandly. "Judging by the reports, his presence here was largely unnecessary to your progress. It is an inefficient use of company resources to have two First Class SOLDIERs indefinitely off the clock. He is taking up your missions here in Wutai."

Sephiroth can feel his own expression growing blank. "I didn't agree to that."

"It was assumed you didn't mind," Tseng says calmly. "Seeing as you didn't seem interested in completing your missions yourself, they were simply passed down the chain. To Angeal."

"It would've been nice to have been consulted on that," Sephiroth says firmly.

"Would you have taken on the missions if you'd known?" Tseng asks with the slightest arch of his brows. "Because unless you would have, your opinion had no bearing on the matter going forward. "

… Okay, ouch. "I see," Sephiroth says, his voice growing low. "Will Angeal be returning here once he's done?"

Tseng blinks at him, slowly. "This location isn't near any of the current points of interest in Wutai. That's why it was selected for your use. It's much more practical for Angeal to stay in the town."

Ah. Well, well, if it isn't those company shackles he'd been happily ignoring. Damn. "... So it's just you and me here, huh?" Sephiroth asks unhappily.

"Only until you feel fit to return to taking on missions," Tseng says and then asks, pointedly, "Do you have an estimate on how much longer will your cultivation training take?"

Sephiroth looks at him closely, but it's hard to say what Tseng thinks - or what he knows. The man just looks at him coolly, expectantly. "I suppose that's another thing we will have to see, isn't it?" Sephiroth answers, just to be contrary. "Alright - do you need help finding a room, Tseng of the Turks?"

Tseng considers him for an uncomfortably long time and then says, "I think I can manage. I will set up in the room vacated by Reno, unless you have objections."

"Be my guest," Sephiroth says and then watches as the man heads inside. Then he looks out to the yard - to the training field Angeal had cleared out for him.

It doesn't seem quite as comfortable as before, all of a sudden.

Of course their stay here was always going to be temporary, and Sephiroth hadn't exactly expected them to leave together. It's just that… he'd figured he'd be leaving first, to parts unknown, maybe with Angeal, but probably not. Angeal is still too loyal to the company - honestly, and he might very well stay loyal until the degradation would begin. Which is… something Sephiroth still hadn't figured out a solution for. Beyond a regular Qi-transfer, maybe.

Shit. He'd procrastinated too long, hadn't he? He'd gotten complacent. He always gets complacent.

Now the matter of Genesis and Angeal might be out of his hands. The company is isolating him, for whatever reason, he doesn't even care. It's manipulation, either way. Now Angeal is out there, maybe killing people in his stead, and Sephiroth has no say in the matter. And Sephiroth is alone with no friends to lean on, as the head Turk in command begins prodding him for results.

Great. Wonderful. Such fun.

Closing his eyes briefly, Sephiroth sighs and then looks up at the darkening night sky.

Tick-tock, goes the clock, as time starts running out.

[bloodylullaby]

Dont know if you take blurb requests but I wanted to ask for one (no pressure❤)

What about, something like the reader and Noah being together for a couple months and she thinks that he's gonna leave her for whatever reason but Noah 'reassures' her so she can keep calm.

Idk if you like this but do what you please with it❤

Okay, I got overly excited and a little nervous writing this, but I hope this is what you were semi-looking for. If not, I will do it again without hesitation! :) :)

I may or may not have read other blurbs to make sure I was doing this right.

Song

Masterlist

Three glorious months—seemingly a blink in the vast of time, yet profoundly meaningful in the journey you and Noah have navigated. It marks the peak of three years of friendship, a journey paved with shared laughter, countless conversations, and moments of unspoken understanding. Finally reaching the finish line, you both have embarked on a new chapter, intertwining your lives in a bond strengthened by trust, mutual admiration, and a deep-rooted connection. Every day shows the lasting beauty of your relationship and the profound impact of love, which thrives and grows with each passing moment.

Things seemed like they couldn't get more perfect until your first big fight. You posted a picture of you and Noah cuddling up in his bed, and he freaked out a little. He was one for complete privacy regarding the internet, but you wanted to shout your relationship to the world. It was hard for you to understand why he didn’t want pictures of you two posted, and it was even more challenging for you not to take it as personally as you did. You have been holed up in your room blasting "Lover Dearest '' by Marianas Trench for an intense hour, screaming and crying the lyrics to yourself.

You felt like he was going to break up with you sometime in the near future, and it was getting harder and harder for you not to freak out about it. This caused you to slightly distance yourself from him, which wasn’t hard due to him working in the studio a lot lately. Everything seemed reduced to slower texts, fewer calls, and limited visits for several weeks. You knew it was because once Noah had a creative flow, he couldn’t be slowed down, but emotionally, it felt like he was avoiding you because he didn't want you around anymore.

There was a knock on your door, so you slowly got up to answer it. On the other side was Noah, who had a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a big smile on his face. His expression slightly faltered when he saw your tear-streaked face. Confusion crossed his features when he heard the song you were playing. 

“Why are you listening to your break-up song?” He asked. That just pushed you over the edge and made your tears fall again. He grabbed your face with his free hand, wiping away the tears. “Hey…shhhh, it’s okay, baby. What’s going on?” he asked, concern laced in his voice.

“Are you going to break up with me?” You asked through sniffles and hiccups. Avoiding eye contact, you couldn't bear to see his face, knowing it would only deepen your heartbreak.

Seeing the anguish in your eyes, Noah's expression softened with understanding. After setting down the flowers, he gently cupped your face with both hands, coaxing you to look at him. 

"Hey, no, no, baby, I'm not going to break up with you," he reassured you, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you, okay? I'm here for you."

Feeling relieved, you finally meet his gaze, tears still glistening. With a shaky breath, you leaned into his embrace, comforting yourself with his reassuring presence. Noah held you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you let yourself release the pent-up emotions weighing on you. Looking up at him, you both get swept up in the feelings, and he kisses you. At first, it starts slow and gentle, a way for him to show you that he understands your feelings and will be there to take the pain away. Then it starts to turn hungry, showing you his passion for you and that he isn’t going anywhere.

Leading him to your room, you lay on your bed as he climbs over you. The air is thick with anticipation and desire as he leans in to kiss you, his lips tender and warm against yours. As the kiss deepens, you feel a surge of emotion wash over you, the intensity of your connection palpable in every touch.

For the next hour, Noah worships you and every inch of your body, his lips and hands moving with purpose and passion. Each caress declares his love and commitment, reassuring you that he isn't going anywhere. In his embrace, you feel safe and cherished, the worries and doubts of earlier fading into the background as you lose yourself in the moment. Time seems to stand still as you revel in the intimacy and closeness you share, knowing that together, you can weather any storm that comes your way.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar: Chapter 7"

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

"'Cause all I see is the best of you and all you see is the best of meAnd you bring out the best of meAnd all I see is everythingYour goals, your glow, your inner beingAnd our bigger meaningSo, let's lose us in these sheets, yeahAnd when I get up to walk, I wanna feel weak, yeahWell, I ain't goin' far (ain't goin' far)So, stay where you are (stay where you are)Feel like you partied in Venus and we woke up in Mars (baby)I been waitin' my whole life (I've been waiting)My whole lifeAnd I'm gonna give you the best years of your life (for you and I) You and I"

Beyonce—"ll Hands ll Heaven"

N'Jadaka Udaku, the foreign born king of Wakanda was a large man.

Yani watched him stretch his muscled arms and strong neck as he powered the bulk of his big body onto the stern of the houseboat and joined her on the cushiony loveseat facing the water on the lower deck. She had been on the luxury ship before. In America and elsewhere it would be considered a yacht, but to the super rich Udakus, it was a family houseboat.

The king rolled his neck and snuggled next to her, enjoying the warm sunlight and letting the alcohol in the champagne they drank relax him into a slight buzzy stupor. For three hours they floated in a quiet bliss, watching the water become a foamy deluge in their wake slicing through the turquoise liquid. The shoreline view slowly changed from deluxe high rises and bustle of city life to the more tranquil and slower-paced suburbs that led to the rural beauty of outer Zana.

N'Jadaka's skin had turned browner than hers as they sunbathed in their swimsuits, and luxuriated in their togetherness. She kissed his hard bicep and started to cry.

"Yani…"

His concerned voice enveloped her in comfort. He hugged her into his side.

"I'm so happy," she sputtered, knowing the champagne had taken over her emotions. "You're my husband now, and it makes all of this seem so solid and real. I'm drunk…"

He laughed and the sound squeezed her heart.

"I'm not talking about the liquor," she said quickly wanting him to know her true feelings, "I'm drunk off of this love we have. I can't explain it well, but it makes me feel…safe. Finally."

He threaded his fingers with hers and kissed her hand.

"I know what you mean, Yani. I feel the same. I'm actually feeling so many things at once. Maybe that's why I've been so quiet for the last two hours. Taking it all in…knowing that I have a wife. That means everything to me. I didn't know I could possibly love you more, but going through the wedding ceremony, taking vows before gods and people. All of this takes on a deeper meaning."

He stared at their wedding rings.

"I should've married you after the first time we made love because I knew you were the one back then. I just didn't trust myself…I didn't know how to love you properly."

He cast his gaze toward the river water again.

"I have a queen, a family of my own…I have everything I've ever wanted. Maybe I'm scared I'll lose it all again…maybe that's why all of my senses and emotions are heightened. So many people in the world never get to have all of their dreams come true."

Yani leaned over and kissed his cheek. N'Jadaka turned his face to align their lips. He was larger up close, overwhelming her space the way he always did and she welcomed that sensation. It meant that he was her forever love. Her husband.

"Ohmigod, look…N'Jadaka…look," she gasped.

Their love boat passed a giant mountain waterfall that gushed whitewater into the once calm river. The automated boat moved away from the cascading flow that started three hundred feet above them. A cool mist from the water striking the river moistened their skin. Yani leaned her neck back to study how high the waterfall started. They stood and walked up to the top deck toward the bow. The boat switched directions on a pre-determined course and headed directly for the heavy curtain of water one hundred feet wide. She clutched his hand.

"What's happening? Why is the boat going toward the waterfall?" Yani said with a nervous tone.

"Wait and see," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulder.

"Aren't we supposed to cruise around the Ibukan?"

"That's what I told everyone for our safety, but that's not what we're doing," he said with a mischievous grin.

They drifted closer and the roar of the waterfall frightened Yani.

"Keep your eyes open baby…watch," he said.

A vibranium shield shimmered a neon blue streak all around the boat. They cruised straight through the waterfall and Yani marveled at the tons of water washing across the protective barrier.

On the other side they entered an enormous cave. The shield powered down and Yani glanced behind them, listening to the thundering roar of water keeping them out of sight.

The river cave was balmy and lit with lanterns decked around the stone walls. They were inside a mountain that led to someplace she was never privy to.

"Where are we?" she whispered.

"You'll see soon enough," he said, squeezing her closer to him.

The lanterns flickered a yellow-orange glow that allowed her to make out cave drawings that didn't look like Wakandan script. Without the light, the blackness of the interior would've swallowed them. Up ahead, a glint of white beckoned them to an exit.

"Oh!"

Yani covered her mouth with her hand. They floated out into a tropical rainforest with an explosion of colors on vines and canopies she had never seen before. The air smelled different and the scent of the blossoming rainforest flowers lured her steps forward near a railing for a closer chance to sniff the tropical atmosphere. If Joba had been there, she would've believed that her fairy garden had sprouted into a giant real-life wonderland. That's how magical it felt floating along with her husband.

Yani looked around with more wonder and couldn't get over how different the world looked in that place. One would've believed they slipped into a fantasy land with colors that vivid and varied. The boat followed a lazy "s" curve until it stopped. N'Jadaka gathered up their thin, ankle-length aquamarine honeymoon tunics. Yani slipped hers on and he did the same.

"We'll ride a hover bike to the place I want to take you," he said.

Yani walked beside him to the lower deck where a canoe and a hover bike were attached for their use on the trip. She climbed behind her husband and held his waist.

Two elder women and a young man waited for them to float over the water and settle on the landing near the water's edge. One woman carried a woven grass basket covered with a satin blue cloth and the other woman held a full bouquet of magenta and blood-orange flowers. Both women wore heavy brocaded lavender robes with gold sandals. The young man escorting them stood silently watching the royal couple climb off the hover bike. He wore a long plain white shirt with gold crotch-drop pants.

The woman with the basket stepped forward first and handed N'Jadaka the basket.

"Welcome kumkani. We have been waiting for your arrival with the new kumkanikazi and prepared your quarters for the next three days."

"Thank you. May I introduce you to Kumkanikazi Yani?"

All three lowered their heads and waited for Yani to acknowledge them with an offering of her hand. The woman with the bouquet gave them to the queen and Yani sniffed the heavenly scent.

"Where are we?" Yani asked the first woman.

"This is Ekuqaleni. The Beginning. The place where the Udaku clan first came to be through Ugogo Udaku…Grandmother Udaku. She is the matrilineal beginning for the king. You carry her name as your own now, kumkanikazi. The Udaku family line runs through their women."

"Udaku was her surname?" Yani asked.

The elder woman who gave the flowers shook her head and spoke softly.

"No. Udaku was her first and only name. Udaku of the Panther Tribe. Mother of Bashenga Udaku, the first Black Panther and our first united tribal king."

"The women ran everything," Yani said.

The women nodded at her.

"Come, you have had a long day and long journey. Time to rest and get acquainted with the roots of your people."

The fruit basket woman snapped her fingers and the young man became more alert and stepped three feet in front of N'Jadaka as the others did. All citizens were only allowed to stand the requisite distance of three feet unless invited closer by a royal personally.

"What are your names?" Yani asked.

The first woman pointed to herself and then the woman with the flowers.

"I am Mama F'Neka and that is Mama Yiswa. Niso will take you to rest. Supper will be ready when you ask for it. We are here to serve and help you enjoy your stay. Your pleasure is our grace," F'Neka said.

Niso stepped lively and the royal couple carried their gifts and followed a winding path through a wealth of nature's beauty.

"We are on the other side of Umbono Lake," N'Jadaka said.

"By the cove?"

"Close to it," he said.

Yani smiled. She had a better picture of the geography knowing they were further south.

"Are you the only people here?" Yani asked Niso.

"No, kumkanikazi. Several of us work here to take care of Ekuqaleni," Niso said.

N'Jadaka took a hold of Yani's free hand and clasped it as they walked through the tropical paradise.

"No one is allowed to be here except for the royal family, and most times it's just for the newlywed ones," N'Jadaka said. "This place is a historical landmark and not even the public can come here except for certain times of the month annually for special tours."

"Ekuqaleni is a holy place my queen," Niso added. "Ugogo Udaku encouraged her young son King Bashenga to follow the ways of the shaman during the time of constant tribal wars. With her wisdom and Bast's guidance, our revered king found isipho…the gift."

"Vibranium," Yani said.

"Yes, kumkanikazi. Ugogo Udaku was born and lived here in the forest for one hundred and ten years. My family has taken care of Ekuqaleni for generations. Mama F'Neka and Mama Yiswa are my grand aunts. We are a mix of the Panther and River tribe."

The path they followed narrowed and N'Jadaka made Yani walk in the middle behind Niso. Giant multi-colored butterflies with wing-spans as wide as her hand fluttered in a ring high above them. The forest had a cloying sweet odor where they traveled. Niso pointed to the butterflies overhead.

"They are drunk with the fermented nectar of the fruit we gave you," Niso said.

Grayish-green fruit shaped like pregnant pears hung on branches slightly at Yani's eye level. Many had over-ripened and browned deeply in sections where butterflies crawled over them licking the fermentation. She giggled and touched the wing of one nearby butterfly. The soft powdery feel slid across her fingertips as they continued moving into a clearing.

"What about our clothes and things on the boat?" Yani asked.

N'Jadaka fondled her backside with a gentle pat and pinch.

"Don't worry about that stuff. I have it all taken care of. Just enjoy the trip, Ma," N'Jadaka said.

Niso stepped aside letting the royals move ahead of him and Yani's eyes widened.

A natural heated mineral pool faced a sunken fire pit surrounded by low stools and a lounging seat. The lush area was cultivated to blend in with the surroundings with enough touches to look cozy and quite comfortable.

"My king and queen, Ugogo Udaku's family dwelling," Niso said proudly.

Yani had imagined some small thatched covered hut made to survive a tropical environment. Instead, her neck arched back and her mouth fell open at the sight of giant trees as tall, wide, and grandiose as American redwoods, but cultivated over a millennia to take on the braided curved shapes like lucky bamboo. The canopies were also intertwined across the tree tops creating the foundation for pearly white-washed circular tree homes made of smooth stone and earth. The light coloring looked spectacular against the backdrop of twining leaves and branches of bright emerald green etched with faint traces of lemon yellow and vermilion streaks.

N'Jadaka grinned next to her.

"Beautiful huh?" he said, putting the basket of fruit on a low tree-trunk carved table.

Yani put the bouquet of flowers down next to the fruit basket and walked toward the closest tree. She noticed the carved steps inside the trunk that led up to the tree home.

"May I?" Yani asked Niso.

"My queen, this is your ancestral home. You may do as you wish," Niso said.

Yani hurried up the organic steps and squealed when she reached the top. Entering the first room she immediately looked out of the window. Holding her breath, she couldn't believe it all belonged to her. N'Jadaka's heavy footfalls echoed from behind and she glanced at him quickly before spinning around the cool interior.

"So much space! It's huge in here and…ohmigod, N'Jadaka…"

Yani took off through a long hall that led to other parts of the tree house. More living pods were made for bedrooms, a restroom, kitchen area, and then treetop bridges that led to hanging gardens that grew fruits and flowers above the forest floor.

N'Jadaka followed, enjoying the delight in her eyes. They stood together on an above ground pathway that gave them a view of a lazy tributary of milky blue water that flowed to the east of the tree house. More steps carved out of the tree led down directly to the water.

"My ancestors had to live above ground because there was a lot of seasonal flooding before they started damming up spots to control the waterways. I thought staying here a few days before going on the boat cruise would be…romantic?" N'Jadaka said.

Yani hugged him tight.

"I love it," she said.

"I'm glad. I know we could go anywhere in the world, or do anything we want in Wakanda, but I just wanted to be somewhere special for us. You're making roots here too, and your lineage is very important to our history on this patch of land."

Yani's eyes welled up and she blinked away tears by glancing down below and noticing Niso. He waved up to them. A loud growling sound startled Yani. Two black panthers lumbered out from behind twisty vines looping below the trees.

Niso didn't seem fazed at all and bent down to scratch the ear of one panther that rolled over onto its back.

"This is S'Bu and Unathi, your personal guards. Would you like to meet them?" Niso called up.

Yani bounded down the carved stairs of another giant tree dragging N'Jadaka with her by the hand.

"Are they safe? They don't know us," Yani asked.

She quickly became cautious once she stood before the gorgeous beasts, their blue-black coats of fur gleaming like polished midnight. N'Jadaka walked up to S'Bu and cuddled its chin with his big hand.

"They are bred for the royals and brought up to obey your commands and watch over you in the forest," Niso said.

Yani was still hesitant to touch either panther.

"No worries Queen Yani. I have gotten them accustomed to your scent. King N'Jadaka sent over clothing belonging to you so they are familiar with your natural skin odor. They know you are to be respected and protected."

"Tell them to sit in Wakandan baby," N'Jadaka encouraged.

"They're not dogs," Yani said with a small laugh in her voice.

"Try it."

Yani stepped closer to her husband just to be safe and looked both big cats in the eyes.

"Hlala phantsi," Yani commanded.

Both panthers squatted on their haunches and kept direct eye contact with her.

"Good job, Queen Yani," Niso said.

Yani reached out and scritched the ear of Unathi first. The animal purred under her fingers and S'Bu nudged her fingers to get some affection too.

"A jealous baby," Yani said.

"They are both three years old and will come and go frequently to trek around the pereimeter," Niso said.

"Aren't panthers normally solitary?" Yani asked.

"Wild ones, yes. They prefer to be alone until mating season. But these have been raised in a claw of humans and were trained to live together with some female panthers that roam here too. You won't see them as much. They are fed by our team so no need to do anything for these big boys. S'Bu loves belly rubs and Unathi prefers back rubs. When you want them to go away, just clap your hands and they will leave."

Niso lowered his head and kept his hands by his sides.

"I will leave you to begin your honeymoon. Tap your kimoyos when you would like your supper brought to you, or any other extra meals and snacks. Ugogo Udaku's home is equipped with all the latest amenities as the palace. Refreshments are in the home already. There are marked trails and kimoyo scans for landmarks and such throughout the forest. I hope you will enjoy your stay. We are so honored to have you."

"Thank you, Niso," Yani said.

Niso wandered off and the forest swallowed all traces of him. Both panthers flopped down on their sides relaxed and without a care in the world.

"What would you like to do first? Explore a little, or relax. Anything you want to get into is good with me, baby," N'Jadaka said.

"What about you?"

He surveyed the empty fire pit and a stack of freshly chopped wood at the base of the tree house steps.

"I'm thinkin' of making a fire so we can have our supper out here. Shouldn't take me long to get one going. We have a couple of hours left before the sun sets."

"How about you get the fire going and I'll walk around here for a few minutes to get acquainted with the forest," she said.

"Bet."

He strolled over to the wood stack and Yani pivoted the other way. The two panthers sat up. S'Bu padded forward to follow.

"Stay," she said in English.

The panther kept walking and she repeated her command in Wakandan and the big cat abruptly sat on its backside again.

She wandered into an area of hanging vines taking in the fresh air and dense foliage. Staring up, she looked upon the thick canopy that blocked out most of the sunlight and created a shady walk through the forest. Despite the dense covering, tiny slats of golden light filtered down like sundrops, making dustmotes look like sparkly glitter dancing in the bright spots. Yani walked into magic and wonder feeling childlike.

There were a few other tree houses high above, but many hadn't been cared for as well as Ugogo Udaku's home over the years. They had eroded away or been grown over by the trees and vines they were built into. The constant buzzing of cicadas rang in her ears. She welcomed the sound and listened for other tropical noises to alert the world of other life going on around her. Frogs croaked and a few green and blue birds bounced from branch to branch watching her closely. A black and white colobus monkey, with an old geriatric-looking face and a tail of long white fur that favored horsehair, spied on her from above.

A sensation of peace descended over the forest and Yani ventured carefully back to the treehouse. The smell of wood smoke greeted her. N'Jadaka sat on one of the low stools by the fire petting both of the panthers that stretched out in front of him. Yani paused her steps and watched her husband interact with the animals. He looked regal and powerful handling S'Bu and Unathi like they were mere kittens. The fire crackled and so did a leaf under her sandal. N'Jadaka and the panthers glanced her way. His large physique reminded her of a human panther. Especially his eyes and how they could turn predatory against an enemy. He really was just a giant panther who would turn as docile as the big cats at his feet when she pointed him in the direction she wanted. Umama whispered in her ear before they flew away on their honeymoon that the queen of Wakanda was the true power behind the throne, and the best queens kept the king on point. Yani clapped her hands and both cats ambled away following her commands immediately. They retreated in the direction Niso disappeared.

"How was your walk?" he asked.

Yani went to him and touched his pulled back locs. She lifted his chin with two fingers and kissed his full lush lips in the firelight.

"This is perfect," she said after releasing his mouth.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah, I could do with a good meal and then a nice early rest."

"We can go canoeing tomorrow and barbecue in the afternoon. We can also hike to see the top of the waterfall."

"So much to see and do… and all the time we need to do it. A whole month off," Yani sighed into his hair.

N'Jadaka pulled her onto his lap and they enjoyed the fire for a time. He tapped his kimoyo beads and Niso returned with two other attendants pushing a floating double food cart filled with delicacies and more than enough food for two hungry royals. The low dining table was just at the right level of the ancient seats. They sat across from one another and were served the first course of broth and flat bread with wine and fresh cheese bites. N'Jadaka dismissed their attendants after giving instructions to bring a late breakfast in the morning.

"I guess walking out here made us hungrier than we thought," Yani said.

She pulled out several platters filled with yellow rice, grilled vegetables, stuffed flaky fish pastries, tender cuts of beef smothered in rich red wine gravy, and skewers of chicken glazed with peanut sauce. Helping themselves to full plates, they ate and reveled in the calm peacefulness as the sun set. Small solar lights sprinkled around the tree house twinkled to life.

"How pretty…oh…I wish the kids could see this," Yani said.

"They will. We'll come back through here on the way back home our last week. But I want us to have this to ourselves first," he said, winking.

"You really have thought of everything."

She stuffed a piece of the fruit that was already cut up for them in the basket.

"This tastes so good, like a peach and passion fruit mix…here, try some."

Yani passed a small squared off piece to N'Jadaka and he ate it right from her fingers, licking the tips free of juice.

"I like it," he said.

He watched her face then smiled.

"You're glowing," he said.

"What?"

"Your face…your demeanor. It's a glowing vibe."

"Hmmm…I feel like I'm glowing. This might sound funny but, I feel like I'm married. It's like a sensation in my bosom, like a weight or something. Nothing heavy, but…a solidness?"

Yani watched his face. N'Jadaka leaned in closer to the table and reached for her ring finger.

"I kinda feel that way too, Yani. Like how we were discussing on the boat. Ceremony is one thing, but saying those vows to you…I feel more connected to you than I ever have. Once those words came out…it's like you said…almost like the word became flesh and lodged inside of us."

Yani nodded, understanding completely.

"Are you excited about when we get back and you attend your first palace meeting with the Council of Elders?" he asked.

Yani rolled her eyes and nibbled on some bread.

"I don't want to think about the palace right now. I only want to focus on us and this amazing honeymoon trip."

"Want any more wine?"

N'Jadaka held out a wine carafe and Yani shook her head.

"I've had enough to drink today, no thank you."

He sipped the last drops in his own wine glass and checked out the dessert offerings. Lemon tarts and mini vanilla bean cakes with fresh berry glaze. They shared a cake and then covered up the rest of the food for the attendants to retrieve later.

Shucking off their caftans to frolic openly with swimsuits again, they investigated the mineral spring bubbling nearby. A trough made of smooth robin's egg blue stones allowed cool water from the river tributary to flow through. All they had to do was lift a partition made of yellow limestone and clay and the cooler water drained into the steamy mineral waters regulating the temperature.

The spring was about five feet deep in the center with seat impressions carved into the sides that could accommodate up to six adults.

"Nature's Jacuzzi," N'Jadaka said as he helped Yani into the bubbling froth that smelled faintly of sulfur.

Yani lifted the partition and the milky blue river water rushed in and helped neutralize the strong odor from the spring. The frothy mix became soapy on their skin making it tingle.

"Feels like heaven," Yani said after the final adjustment of the partition to a perfect temperature.

Seated shoulder to shoulder, they soaked in heated bliss and held hands under the water. They spoke of the children and their education, and Yani fretted about the possibility of sending Sydette to the best science academy in Wakanda. Their eldest had taken her first Level 1 aptitude exam that all nine-year-olds took to determine their academic journey. Unlike most educational systems, Wakandans let the children's intelligence place them with their natural interests and not just a typical general core curriculum that everyone had to abide by for decades. They allowed children to specialize in their talents early encouraging self-motivation that would hopefully carry on into a lifetime of autodidactism.

Sydette tested high in the hard sciences and mathematics and her primary teacher was pleased to inform Yani and N'Jadaka that S'Yan University had the proper seed school within the institution that all the best young science minds went to early. In a year, Sydette would have to attend a new school for her grade level and Yani wanted her near the palace. Attending the Level 2 in S'Yan would mean boarding school for Sydette. Traveling back and forth to school hundreds of miles away was too much for a little girl. It was tough while she was living away from her father in the countryside under duress, but S'Yan was even further away near the sea.

Boarding school was what rich people did to have their children rub shoulders with the elite and to get high paying, high status jobs after graduation. Sydette was a princess and the daughter of the richest and most brilliant man in the world. She didn't need a boarding school to get ahead in life, she was already at the front of the line. Yani toyed with the idea of asking N'Jadaka to create a school in Zana just as heralded as the one in S'Yan just to keep Sydette at home. All the schools in Wakanda were better than anything outside of the country, but S'Yan University had three particular teachers there that created giants in their field. Shuri and T'Challa had gone there as children before attending the Royal Academy of Wakanda in Zana.

Her mind wandered to their "twins" Joba and Riki. In two years, all of their children could possibly be away from the golden city and boarding on the other side of the country. The thought bothered her to no end. She was supposed to see her babies every day to ask how their day went and help them with their class work. There were already rumblings from Joba and Riki's teachers about skipping them a few grades like N'Jadaka had been. That meant they could leave the palace sooner. Brilliant children meant losing parts of childhood sometimes. Her husband didn't talk about it much, but Dante told Yani that it was tough for the king to be the smartest and youngest child in the room when he was little.

Joba had an aptitude for linguistics and art. Riki…well…Riki was…Yani chuckled.

"What's so funny?" N'Jadaka asked.

"Thinking of Riki. What do you think he'll do with his life? We know he loves animals."

N'Jadaka pressed his lips together suppressing a smirk.

"Why are you looking like that?" Yani asked.

"He told me he wants to start a band."

"Ooh Lord, God…"

"Well, the boy can sing. My Baba could and so can you, which means he has the genetics."

"So Sydette becomes an astrobiologist, Joba the master linguist/art historian, and our son becomes a rock star?"

"Why not?"

"I know the music business first hand remember? It's not a nice industry. He's too smart for that."

"Wakanda is all about letting their young people develop their potential. Maybe it's time for an Udaku to be a famous musician. Give him a few more years with his piano and guitar lessons. He could be the next King of Pop. But a real one!"

"My baby is too sweet to become a raunchy musician."

"Stop projecting."

Yani curled her lip in a pout and N'Jadaka squeezed her kneecap.

"You have to let him have the same opportunity your parents gave you when you were allowed to try your hand at music," he said.

"That wasn't my dream and you know it. Chez wanted to be a star, not me."

"Kendall is doing well though."

"Kendall is a famous music producer now…all behind the scenes work."

"He would be a good mentor for Riki—"

"Are you seriously thinking of letting our son become a performer? You wahn me vex on this honeymoon?"

"You are the queen of Wakanda. Lil Man will never fall victim to the seamier side of the music business because who would want to fuck with his mama? Or his daddy? One word from your mouth and you already know I'm tearing up cities for our kids."

Yani relaxed more and rubbed her hand up and down his arm.

"Promise?" she said in his ear.

"Anything for my wife, ya heard me?"

She nodded. He stood abruptly and pulled at the elastic on his trunks.

"Too hot for me. Let's use the outdoor shower and head up," he said.

She stepped out of the mineral pool and slipped on her sandals. They rinsed off with cool water from an overhead shower nozzle connected to one of the trees facing the treehouse. Stripping off their suits, they wrung them out and strung them along a branch to dry. A second more thorough shower had them fully refreshed and energized.

"Let's stay outside a little longer," Yani suggested.

Even with the sun gone, the spring weather carried the whispers of summer on a slow breeze that followed them back over to the double lounger. N'Jadaka moved it to face the tributary where they could gaze at the bright stars in the evening sky. He tilted the back support so they could sprawl together at an angle. Yani waited for him to settle in the lounger first before she crawled to sit between his legs with the back of her head resting on his chest.

"Do you think Adam and Eve had it like this in the Garden of Eden?" Yani asked.

"Without attendants…maybe."

"Nude in nature and happy like this every day of their lives…"

"Until that whole apple situation," he joked.

"Shooting stars!" she blurted, pointing at the streak of burning dust overhead.

Yani closed her eyes when she spotted a new cluster of vaporized debris masquerading as shooting stars. She made a wish for her husband and herself to live long happy lives without any falls from grace.

N'Jadaka was pleased.

His new wife loved the surprise excursion to Ekuqaleni. Before his paternal grandfather vanished in the Thanos war, he gave N'Jadaka the suggestion to visit the place of his Wakandan roots where it all began for the Panther tribe. He made meticulous arrangements in secrecy and felt grateful that he listened to Baba Z.

Yani was in awe of the place and more than anything, she loved the seclusion and quiet from other people. She spoke to him with that soft tone he adored in her voice, and touched him constantly. She knew his love language was physical contact and catered to those needs just as he catered to hers by showering her with gifts that showed her that she was worthy of all the good things in life she struggled for. Yani wasn't materialistic by any means, but his constant presents for no special reasons brought her gratitude and acceptance that she was worthy of being spoiled by him. N'Jadaka puffed up ten feet whenever she expressed elation over a new surprise he bestowed upon her simply because he loved her so much.

Naked and tangled together on the lounger, they watched shooting stars and listened to the settling down of the majestic forest. An owl hooted and flew low past their seat right across the tributary. They were surrounded by mountains and away from the constant eyes in the palace. Being butt naked in a serene wilderness calmed his mind and body. He curled his arms around Yani's chest, feeling the soft globes of her breasts push into his warm skin. True Eden was holding her close and never letting her go.

He slid his fingers onto her nipples and played with them. They perked up, still tender from the soak in the mineral pool. She stayed quiet, watching his fingers roll across the firm tips, fat like plump grapes. Her sighs pleased his ears as he plucked and pinched them gently. He cupped each breast and looked down at her chest, slowly pushing them together. Staring at big tits always got him started in the arousal department. Yani's thighs fell open wider and he knew her inner labia were becoming engorged just by the way her backside squirmed against him. She turned her head and he lowered his so they could kiss, their tongues sliding into moist, ready caverns. His mouth watered kissing her, and he kept his tongue at the entrance of her mouth, forcing Yani to beg for more with her prodding tongue. He delved deeper into her throat forcing her to submit that wanton mouth. She matched his pace. His fuller lips took over hers and she moaned deep in her throat.

"Love me?" he whispered between kisses.

She nodded and arched her neck to capture more of his lips, her teeth grazing his bottom lip playfully. He slowed her down with softer kisses that tested the limits of her desire for him. Licking on her neck, he bit into her skin and nibbled on the spot just under the right side of her jaw. He sucked a small hicky there, marking her flesh with his teeth too. She shifted her body onto her side, and the heat from her heavy breasts seared warmth into him. He lowered his hand and touched her down there in that special place.

That pussy was wetter and hotter than the water they crawled out of.

The slickness coated his fingertips and he painted her wide labia with all the stickiness she spewed out.

"I've been waiting to play all in this pussy…"

He prevented her from responding by stuffing his fingers in her mouth, making her taste the sweet tasting nectar she released. She'd spent a week eating large amounts of pineapples and mangoes to make sure her pussy tasted delicious for them.

Good girl.

He gently smacked her vulva. The slap from his hand activated the pleasure of her labia piercings.

"Yesss," she hissed, and he slapped her vulva again, the frothy wetness between her legs making his entire hand wet.

"…playing with my wife's pretty pussy outside in the open. Anybody could walk past and see the queen's wet pussy lips…"

Yani huffed out an aroused breath into his right side. The exhibitionist in her was wound up tight. He drew lazy figure eights all around her jeweled clit. Her legs trembled as he rubbed slow circles on it directly.

"You can't cum on my fingers baby. The king has to eat your pussy first before he can get deep inside you. Would you like that now? My lips on your pussy? Licking all over that juicy clit?"

"Yes…please…Daddy…eat my pussy."

"You about to get some husband dick tonight, Yani. I already told you that shit was going to be different from what you're used to. Daddy gotta put in real work tonight to stretch you out good. I might make several big messes all inside you."

She trembled all over, the tension in her body palpable against his nerve endings. He inserted two fingers partially inside her pussy and they both heard the sound it made when he wiggled his fingers around to test how wet she was. He adjusted her position on his torso so he could reach down and finger fuck her. She spread her legs along the sides of his and savored his digits twirling pleasure inside of her. Her walls squeezed around his fingers. The deeper he sank his fingers the more moans tumbled from her lips. Her eyes were glassy and faraway. She was ready to be piped down good and hard.

N'Jadaka moved her body away from his and slid down to his knees on the soft grass. It was time for him to face the nation between her thighs. Pushing Yani's legs back on the lounger he smashed his lips into her vulva and commenced to pleasuring the queen with a thick wide tongue. She tasted sweeter and her slick offering soaked his lips and most of his lower face.

Tongue fucking her made Yani shoot her legs up to the dark heavens. Her toes pointed to the north star toward freedom in her pussy. A powerful orgasm rippled all across her lush form. He loved the way her entire vulva throbbed in his mouth. Her orgasmic contractions exploded again while he groaned into her soft center making it vibrate with delirious pulses. It forced her to let out a rapturous shout to God and anyone else who would listen to her praises of his tongue.

He slurped up all the stickiness she produced and swallowed it full of greed for more. Standing, he let her witness the growth of his erection. It stood saluting her. Her eyes glossed over his heavy nutsack before admiring his thick arousal. He lifted his balls and squeezed their heft, letting her see what was in store to flood her pussy.

Yani lifted one of the large fluffy pillows from the lounger and placed it on the grass in front of the seat. She dropped onto all fours facing away from him. Head down, ass up. N'Jadaka scooted into a comfortable position at the edge of the lounger and spread his legs. He gripped his dick with a firm hand and stroked himself, watching his wife wiggle her big, wide ass. Her fat vulva gleamed from her piercings and the fresh lubricant her body produced. The inner labia wings were spread out and all of her precious pink winked at him. She played with her pussy and he groaned stroking his dick. Her pretty rose-gold nails pulled her ass cheeks apart providing a gorgeous picture for him. When they got back to the palace he was going to commission a discreet artist to paint his wife in that position. That body was art, especially when it was aroused and that pink pussy throbbed like that.

"Fuck Yani, that pussy looks so juicy…so does that ass baby…"

She slowly rubbed her labia and it was torture staring at wet pussy teasing him to fuck. Women from all over the world had been in that position before trying to seduce him. Only Yani made him pant the way he did watching her tease him. She pushed three of her fingers inside her pussy and the squelching sounds had his fat lips twisted up in agony.

"You like your wife's pussy?" Yani said.

"I do baby…"

"Do you like how it sounds Daddy?"

His hand pounded his dick down to his balls. Precum drizzled down the shaft and all over his right hand. So much came out that he was losing the feeling of friction. He was going to need her tight pussy soon. Sweat poured down his face.

"Yani…damn…Yani…got this dick hard as fuck…shit…"

She started making her ass cheeks jump in a syncopated rhythm and he jumped down on his knees. He jammed his left hand down on the arch of her back and pressed the tip of his dick against her right ass cheek, rubbing it hard against the pillowy soft bubble.

"You like that big ass Daddy?"

"Fuck!"

N'Jadaka groaned and slapped his dick against her ass. His precum coated her skin and his dick slid all around feeling hot and dangerous in his hand. He slapped the other ass cheek several times leaving dark red-brown markings on her toasted brown skin. Yani liked that stinging pain and cried out for more. He was losing control. His vision became blurry from the sweat falling into his eyes.

"Get on your knees! Aw fuck, Yani! Hurry…get on your knees…'bout to bust a fat one. Wanna cum on your face…you know what I want…you know what I want!" he shouted.

Yani took her sweet time rising from her position. But she didn't stay on her knees. She sauntered over to the lounger and got cozy on her back, spreading her big thighs open.

"I want my husband…I want my husband right now," she said.

N'Jadaka stared at her earnest face and the beauty it contained. His entire body hummed with the thrilling sensation of lust and love and deepening desire. His dick was a heavy sword between his legs ready to be sheathed by a queen he loved with his entire heart, mind, body, and soul. He lowered his head and kissed her feet and made a trail with his lips all the way up her body. When he reached her lips, he gave her a small peck and lined his erection up with her receptive labia.

"I want my wife. I want my wife right now," he said to her with strong conviction.

The firelight revealed a shine in Yani's eyes that glowed like the stars above.

Everything slowed down.

His breathing.

His heart beat.

His mind.

All there was in that moment of exquisite time was her.

Yani.

The woman who brought him back from the land of the living dead.

The woman who loved him whole and free.

His wife.

His.

He entered her body slowly, burning into his memory the sensation of her vagina closing around his girth, holding him like no other woman could. Resting his forehead against hers, their eyes connected and locked together. He placed his hands into fists at her sides and grunted his satisfaction with a slow lovemaking that had him enthralled.

God she took that dick!

He closed his eyes and gasped at how tight and deep she was. When he was able to open his eyes again while savoring the sweet thrusts he gave her, he knew in his spirit he would be lost to her love forever. The thought of how easily he could've lost her on that island swarmed over him like a tsunami of watery heat in his bones, and he wept, fearful of how close his life could've gone down the drain if he hadn't found her and built a connection.

Yani cradled his face with her hands and wiped away his tears that threatened to fall on her. He shifted his weight and she wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him room to thrust harder into her.

His queen. His wife.

Yani.

She made love to him like no other and he reciprocated. His mind wandered for a second at a memory. Who was the lover he once chastised for trying to fuck him like that when it was better suited for a man who deserved her? He was at M.I.T. at the time…early twenties. Cocksure and slanging dick like a fiend. The woman had been much older than him and fell in love with him so fast that he felt bad for leaving her with unrequited feelings. Shaun knew her…a big fine…

Renata.

Yeah, that was her. He had been right to warn Renata about fucking men like that. That was husband territory and the woman that rightfully deserved his tender loving care would have it for as long as he lived. The wisdom of his youth flooded his limbs and he kissed Yani while thrusting his soul into her depths. He needed her to feel his love and devotion. She hugged him tight.

"N'Jadaka…my love…my everything," she said.

"Yes," he said, rocking into her in a steady love tempo. "Yes…yes…baby…yes."

Husband things.

Her mouth parted but no sound came out. Her eyes never wavered from his. Her pussy swallowed his dick with artful decadence. Every thrust he gave ripped a groan from him as well as her, and after awhile, it became a steady metronome of sound. Even the forest quieted down to listen to their lovemaking.

Yani's pussy was a gushy fortress of primal delight. He glanced down to watch his dick move in and out, stuffing her full of thick dick, stretching her with divine care. Giving him pussy like that, he definitely knew he would have her pregnant in a few months. She made the idea of pulling out a sin before Bast and Ogum. He had fought aliens from other galaxies, had Gods speak to him directly and ride his body within his own flesh, but none of those experiences were as profound as making love to Yani.

He gestured for her to turn around so he could take her from behind and waited for her to get into a comfortable position. He sank back into her with a hearty shout of her name and gripped her waist. She clutched the back of the lounger for stability. Slowly gyrating his hips, he gave Yani the backshots she needed as her man. With reckless abandon, she threw her ass back on him causing loud thunderous claps of her ass cheeks. He held back from plunging into her again and let Yani do all the fucking while he watched with half closed eyelids. Her grip on his dick made his balls ache to release. She twisted her hips and pushed into him at a new angle that tugged on his length with a new sensation.

"Dassit, fall back on that dick. Good girl…show me how you own this dick…show me…dassit. That's all yours, Yani... right there…right there…yank on this dick with that tight pussy baby."

She looked back at him while she bounced on his dick. It was that daring look in her eyes that made her lethal during sex. The look clarified that no one else could fuck him like she did. She was the big dick assassin and she snapped that fat ass against his groin to remind him that she was not to be toyed with. Flexing her back muscles, she started really cooking on his dick, twisting her waist from side to side the way she did when she danced seductively on a dance floor. Her ass moved like water with such fluidity that he squeezed his eyes shut again to keep himself from nutting before he was ready. He grit his teeth and huffed agitated air, suppressing the yell that built up in his throat and threatened to bellow out like a raging elephant.

Yani pushed the lounge chair's back support until it was flat. She lowered her face and kept her eyes locked on his as she arched her back into a more visually pleasing display that tooted her ass higher for his pleasure.

She knew what she was doing.

Setting him up for the kill-strike on his dick. Her pussy was already doing stunts on his shaft with all the concentrated squeezing. Using his large hands, he pulled her cheeks apart to admire the visual of tight pink pussy throbbing all around his pulsing erection. Locked on her target, her eyes narrowed watching him. He had something for her ass though that would mess up her goal to end him.

N'Jadaka lifted onto his feet and fucked her froggy style. That position gave his fat sack the ammunition angle to continually smack into her swollen clit harder. His switch up worked, and Yani's face transformed from a look of deadly accuracy into one of submissive bliss.

"Oh…oh…oh…oh…" she panted softly and repeatedly.

His balls and the thickness of his dick stretching her caused the right amount of friction to render her lost in the sauce. She had that faraway look in her glassy stare.

"MmmHmmm…thought you had me gone. Now I gotta teach you how to behave," he barked at her.

Yani whimpered and chewed on her bottom lip. Her shiny eyes looked more watery and ready to spill tears. He rubbed on her booty, smacking it on both sides, luxuriating in the recoil as it bounced in his hands.

"Not here," he said glancing up at the treehouse.

Reluctantly, he pulled out from her tightness and lifted her gently in his arms. She rested her head against his neck and circled her arms around his wide shoulders.

"I will cum inside you way up there…where my ugogo lived high above the ground…among these magnificent trees. I want the old ones who passed on to hear us and know that we're building a new nation," he whispered in her ear.

He strode across the peaceful landscape carrying Yani past the dying fire and the gurgling of the mineral spring. S'Bu and Unathi returned from prowling their territory and watched the king with his queen.

"You two stay here and watch this place. Stay," he commanded.

Unathi gave a subdued growl as if responding to N'Jadaka. Both panthers slinked gracefully near the fire pit and hunkered down like two giant loaves of black bread.

N'Jadaka walked up the treehouse stairway and carried Yani into the largest bedroom pod that was decorated like a honeymoon suite for the royal couple. Tropical flowers were placed around the bedroom in natural grass woven baskets. Heavily scented green candles burned inside copper wall sconces with protective glass coverings. Two royal purple robes transported from their palace home hung up on wall hooks. With the whitewashing of the walls and the flickering candles, the bedroom glowed with a subdued golden light.

Their bedding was a soft ancient pallet covered in a hand woven plum-colored quilt that had been lovingly repaired and refabricated over centuries, but still held the stitches of his greatest grandfather's mother.

Above them was a skylight where the ancient ones had trimmed away the canopy to let in starlight and sunshine. He made out the Wakandan zodiac sign of the baobab tree among the stars twinkling their light into the room. Placing Yani on her feet, he pulled back the quilt and soft sheets.

"Give me your hand," he said.

Yani placed her left hand in his and helped lower her onto the unbelievably soft and supportive pallet. It must've been made from some special material that deceived the eye into thinking it was too thin to handle two grown bodies that were about to get busy. He pushed two large pillows against the wall creating back support.

N'Jadaka held Yani in his arms and kissed her. Their tongues played a gentle game of hide and seek in their mouths. He fondled her breasts and whispered her name over and over, praising her touches all over his body. He nibbled her earlobe, licked the shell of her ear, and groaned while listening to her needy moans. The wide open wings of her labia beckoned him to plunge back inside her pussy. The stickiness between her thighs became molten lava on his hand. She crawled on top of him and guided his twitching erection inside her sugary walls.

"Oh…Killmonger," she sighed.

"Fuck!"

Yani leaned forward and her breasts smothered his face. She rode him hard and fast. He sucked on her nipples and tried stuffing as much of her breasts into his mouth as possible. She started bucking and he cried out with enough passion to make his throat raw. He gripped her big titties and held on to them while she fucked the shit out of him.

"Dammit! Fuck me Yani…keep going like that…oh shiitttttt!"

She leaned back and her breasts bounced like an earthquake rumbled their treehouse. His nutsack reacted to the vision, the hot semen held there on the brink of shooting out from his dick if he let her ride like she was on a mechanical bull much longer.

His lips bunched up and he started begging for mercy.

"Don't make me cum yet baby…please…I'm not ready for you to pull this nut out yet…Yani…Yani…please…"

She laughed and pushed her tits together, extending his torture. Her pussy made splashing noise all over his dick. A creamy stickiness covered his erection and more coated it as her arousal danced into a tipping point. The way his dick stretched her pussy lips as she went up and down paralyzed him into inaction and he took the pounding of her ass on his thighs like a champ. A lesser man would've tapped out a long time ago. He was on the verge and she knew it, and that knowledge turned her into a dick riding tyrant.

"Oh my God…Oh my God….shit, shit, shit, Yani you fucking bitch! Ahhhhh!"

There was no shame in a man screaming because his wife rocked his world. No shame in his voice going up two octaves either. He lifted his body and hugged her tight, slowing down her plans to kill him with pussy. The king planted kisses all over her throat and face before taking her lips. Distracted, Yani went limp in his arms and he flipped her over onto her back.

He plunged in deep, shocking her system. She clawed his back with those rose-gold nails and the pain of breaking skin seeped into his body as pleasure. He pressed his weight down into her and gave her what she wanted. The righteous pounding from a king.

Grunting and cursing, he looked at Yani directly, their warm moaning breath co-mingling

"Fuck me Killmonger! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

No noise came out of his mouth. Eventually it stopped coming out of her mouth too. The eroticism of silence shrouded them. Only their overstimulated bodies keened and shrieked the ecstasy drowning their pores.

He hit that sweet spot inside her walls and Yani's mouth opened wider and the tears finally fell. A seismic orgasm rocked her into a silent writhing. Her pussy tightened and quickly rippled a barrage of contractions up and down his dick.

He let go.

His hefty dick swelled within her walls and the first tsunami of cum spilled into her. He hunched his back so tight that he couldn't even focus his eyesight anymore. He became caught in a twilight world of physical euphoria and never needing to live again because he shot his entire life through his dick.

The second wave of his release helped him find his voice and he hollered into the wall the praise songs of his father's gods. Yani stroked the nape of his neck and he groaned out to Ogum to save him before he passed out.

Ogum answered and a soothing sensation trickled along his spine and helped him gather the strength to separate himself from his wife. The sensation rooted itself at the top of his head and he shifted to his knees and gripped his dick that remained erect. Yani squirmed seductively underneath him and kept her gaze on the wide head of his shaft.

"Suck my dick," he demanded.

Yani acquiesced with a smirk on her face. She knew what was coming.

She gave his dick little kisses first, allowing it to recover from his first orgasm of the night. When he glared down at her, she placed the head into her mouth and suckled the ridge and slipped the tip of her tongue into his slit. He groaned and stood up, widening his stance and jerking on his pipe.

Yani worked his dick with a good little slut mouth. She made it sloppy and spit on the tip several times letting saliva fall on her breasts.

"Open that mouth wider…dassit…you know how to handle all that…I know you well girl…made you my wife so I can have you whenever I want…"

She moaned all over his dick, and the vibration curled his toes. His balls throbbed and he didn't warn her verbally at all that he was cumming again. He aimed for the front of her face and she knew from experience what was up. She tilted her head back and he painted steamy white streaks all over the left side of her cheek and neck.

Yani gazed at his cement-hard dick and knew the night was going to be vigorous and long. Glory to Bast and that heart-shaped herb! He would give her pussy a little respite though. Lowering his big body back down on the pallet, he pulled her down in front of him and asked her to lie on her back, keeping her knees up and her thighs open. He wanted to watch his cum drizzle out of her pussy. She obliged as he expected. Situating the pillows in a comfortable position behind his back, N'Jadaka stroked his dick and watched his wife hold open her pussy lips.

"Push it out if you can," he asked.

She didn't have to do too much because a heavy flow came out and slowly became clear as the air hit it.

"Can I try to get you pregnant?" he asked.

Yani grinned knowing that thought got him off the most and she played into it by gently rubbing on her clit and touching all of her delicate piercings one by one for his entertainment.

"You want to cum deep inside of me and put a baby in here?" she cooed.

He heard her angelic voice but only saw the drenched wet pink she caressed.

"I wanna fuck you and put a new baby in your pussy so bad, Yani!"

"Will you fuck me good, Killmonger?"

"Fuck yes…"

She had him gritting his teeth again as she rubbed that pretty vulva slowly.

"I might be pregnant now. You put a lot in me," she teased.

He groaned and his dick jumped hot and ready in his hand.

"Maybe we should put the special lubricant inside me so I can get ready for that big dick again…huh?" she moaned softly.

He groaned louder knowing good and well that special lubricant helped her deal with long continual fucking from him. She was ready to play Lets Make A Baby. But only to amuse him.

He came hard in his hand. With her legs open, he rejoiced in the satisfaction of having an orgasm by watching her masturbate. The quivering in her pussy pushed more of his cum out into a pool of wetness on the sheets. He milked his dick thinking about how many times he was going to fuck her before the sun rose again.

Chapter 8 HERE.

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[sunshine-scented]

Can you do a Nezha x reader fluff

Thanks

There isn't really any specifications on what you wanted which was stated on my Introduction post, which is also a pinned post on my page. I will let this slide, once, however, any other request like this will be deleted. Just don't do this again okay~?

❀ I worship you ❀

: Oh how much he craves to be in his darling's arms. But considering on your playful behavior, just how far was he willing to go just to receive a single spec of your affection?

: Nezha x gn!reader

: Fluff! However, it gets a little bit suggestive towards the end since I got carried away haha~

He felt annoyed down to his very core of existence, not only did a bunch of low life demons tried to pick up a fight with the deity and attempted to steal some of the artifacts and relics he was ordered to protect, but he also remembered that Wukong existed and that made him even more annoyed.

He sighed for the uptenth time as the days and nights started to move slower and slower, as if they were mocking him in sadistic glee. His mood only dampened.

Maybe if he could just immediately kill anyone bad in this world, that way there would be any problems for him, or perhaps him having the ability to clone himself over and over again would lessen the stress.

Nezha could only think about the what ifs, but his body stays in the present. Dull and boring, stress inducing planet with it's disgusting creatures.

Suddenly, he heard footprints coming his way, the palace walls echoed as he stills, like a snake ready to pounce on his prey. Watching, wating, listening.

He pulled out his staff and prepared for combat with a furrowed brow and pointed it towards the door as it slowly starts to open, with it's stone and marble dragging against the tiled floor, his grip on the staff hardened.

Carefully stepping into the palace, you passed through the door without a second glance, meeting eyes with your lover.

His eyes softened at the sight of you, suddenly all of the stress and annoyance he felt was gone in just a glance at you, suddenly all he felt was nothing negative but the need for your comfort.

Suddenly he felt okay, because you're here

"(Name)" he said your name in subtle fondness "What brings you here in this domain?"

You smiled and waved your hand at him "I'm just here to collect a few things the jade emperor requested of me" you explained, walking towards some of the relics "What is his reason? Honestly I don't know. But orders are absolute, I would rather die than question his Majesty" Nezha followed you as your hands grab onto the small white bag the emperor gave.

He watched you carefully from your shoulder as you handle the relics with gentle movements with your hands, carefully taking off the glass chamber from the rose golden table and keeping the relics snug into the bag.

His mind starts to wander, how would your hands feel in his? Would you treat them with the same fondness you had with the relics? Would your warmth spread all over his body until it reached his very core? Would you trail your hands all over his hair if he asked you to?

Perhaps it was the stress finally piling up on him, but his thoughts were plagued by the thought of you. He needs your touch, he craves your warmth, he—

"Nezha?" Your voice snapped him back into reality "Are you okay? You've been staring at nothing for a wh—"

"(Name)..."

You turned around to see him already staring at you, his brows furrowed as his gaze never left yours "Touch me"

Your eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting such a bold request from Nezha himself, yet he stayed the same, as if he was unfazed by his own words, as if he meant everything he said.

You stared at him, still perplexed by his actions, yet, you can't stop the amused smile etching onto your face "Oh? What's this? Poor little Nezha missed me too much, hm?" You teased as you dragged your finger into his chest, slowly going down futher, and further.

His breath hitched, mind dizzy and sight complete blurred out, his head felt like exploding as his heart was beating out of his chest, attempting to separate from his body from how hard it was beating, it rang in his ears.

Oh how adorable he is to you, getting all worked up over a finger, however, you quickly took your hand back, away from his body and playfully clicked your tongue "As much as I love you, I don't think I want to give you any of my affections" you mocked in fake pity.

"You might have to work for it to get what you want, Nezha ♡"

The playfulness in your tone and that mischievous smile you make drives him crazy, he huffed a breath out of spite but made no further complaints as he started to walk closer to you, your bodies touching by a mere inch.

He pins you between his arms with his hands resting on the table behind you, never touching a single molecule of your figure. His eyes stayed focused as his breath got heavier "Please.." he started to lean his face closer to yours until your lips are barely touching with his "I want your hands on my skin, I want to feel your every part touch me bones deep"

He started to grip the table, crumpling the ironed sheets "I want you to hold me, kiss me, make me all yours all over again" his brows furrowed even more as his stare becomes more feverous, yet his stance less stable.

"I want you to ruin me with your love, if it's the last thing I do"

You chuckled, finding his bold confessions adorable as you tilted your head slightly to match his "As you wish, My prince~♡"

As you can see I have a new favorite

[rottenpumpkin13]

This is possibly (probably) opening myself up to another wave of pain. So I'm begging you to be gentle...

But Do Angeal and Sephiroth ever find out that Genesis cried over annoying them? Did zack notice that Genesis had been crying? Did they apologise? I need to know!!

Also I hope you're doing well!

(Continued from this post) Okay!! Let's do this >:)

-⏤★⏤-

Zack stands before Sephiroth and Angeal as he chronicles the afternoon he had spent with Genesis two days prior. With each word invoked, different expressions stretch across their faces, ranging from bewilderment to shock. He would’ve opened up to them sooner, but Zack wanted to wait and see whether Genesis would say something first. 

He didn’t. For the past two days, any time Zack had seen the infamous trio together, Genesis had been right beside Angeal and Sephiroth. His smile was forced, his words were careful, and every step he took was as calculated as his newfound sense of self-awareness—like Genesis was trying his hardest to step over stray bombs. 

"Seriously, guys," Zack insists. He presses his back against the closed door of Sephiroth’s office, where he has cornered them. "Genesis isn't doing well. He didn’t explicitly say anything that day, but it was clear he had been crying.”

Sephiroth raises an eyebrow, his usual stoic demeanor showing a hint of surprise. 

“And yesterday he finally told me what’s been going on,” Zack continues, rubbing his crossed arms in a self-soothing gesture, “he…says he feels like a bother.”

Angeal huffs. "And how do you know he's not just having one of his dramatic moments?"

Zack leans against the wall, not taking kindly to “dramatic moments” and whatever Angeal is trying to insinuate. 

"Because he told me. He feels like nothing he says or does matters at the end of the day, that you guys have the same image of him in your head, that he’s this—this—” Zack shakes his head. “This annoying weight that you put up with.”

Angeal exchanges a glance with Sephiroth, a silent, shared question passing between them. "Why would he confide in you, Zack? I’m not trying to be rude, but I didn’t think he liked you very much.”

Zack composes that part of him that knows not to lash out. He’s standing before his two superiors, after all. “What's the name of his new book?” 

Sephiroth and Angeal look at each other, their expressions incredulous. 

Angeal shrugs. “I don't know what you—”

“—Because Genesis can name every single plant in your office, pick out your coffee order, and tell you what issue’s been badgering your mind lately. 

The click of Angeal’s teeth as he clamps his mouth shut is Zack's cue to turn to Sephiroth. 

“And you. He admires you so much, he can go into detail about every single one of your conquests. And he loves you so hard as a friend that he can remember what things to avoid teasing you over so he never crosses the line with you.” 

Sephiroth looks down. Angeal looked away. Zack unglues himself from the door and steps forward. 

“I know I’m not perfect. I talk too much, I’m impulsive, I have a tendency to bite off more than I can chew, and I get that I’m all over the place sometimes.” He pauses. “And if the people who I admire the most in this world—you two—ever use those as reasons to ignore me, then I think I’d just—” Zack chokes on his words, feeling hot tears spill down his cheeks. 

“I’d just die,” he whispers. When he looks up again, Angeal is rubbing his own face with eyes that are getting glassier by the minute. Sephiroth is still looking down, contemplative. 

Zack is undeterred. “If you can’t stand him anymore, fine. But you need to tell him that—”

“That’s not the case,” Sephiroth says quietly, quickly. 

“Well, it sure seems like it,” Zack snaps. “If you can’t stand him anymore, fine,” he repeats, slower this time. “But you need to make that clear to him now.” Zack’s clenched fists tremble at his side. He lets out a shaking breath. “It’s painful enough watching you guys be jerks. I don’t want to continue to see him miserable too.” 

Angeal shakes his head, still unable to meet Zack’s eyes. “Genesis is our friend, Zack. It’s hard to explain to an outside perspective, but we do care for him—”

“Then fucking act like it,” Zack spits. 

This time both Angeal and Sephiroth snap their heads up, looking At Zack as if he has just drenched them with a bucket of cold water. Zack feels his cheeks hit up and regret pool at the pit of his stomach, yet he’s unrelenting. He heaves his shoulders, looking at both men with the same type of conviction Angeal always claims he lacks.

“You can punish me if you want.” He hangs his head. “I probably deserve it, but…” Zack shrugs. “It’s what I thought you should hear.” 

The silence in the office is loud, with the only discernable sounds being the whir of the air conditioner and the soft hum of life right outside the door. An uncomfortable tension hangs in the air. Angeal and Sephiroth exchange a meaningful glance.

Zack shuffles his feet, acutely aware of the possible punishment coming his way. The seconds stretch into an eternity, but he endures it, thinking of Genesis’s well-being—something he never expected to care so much about.

Sephiroth breaks the silence. “Thank you, Zack,” he says, his voice strained. “Your honesty is appreciated.”

Angeal offers a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Go on, Zack. We need some time to discuss this. We'll handle it from here.”

Zack hesitates for a moment, then nods. He turns to leave the office, and when the heavy door closes behind him, the gravity of the conversation lingers like a weighted cloak over his shoulders. 

-

Genesis sits at the booth by the tall glass windows, their usual seat in the dining hall. A bowl of hot soup lies untouched in front of him. The aroma of fresh food fills the air, doing nothing to Genesis other than strengthening the nausea that digs into his stomach. The often lively atmosphere feels heavy as he waits for Sephiroth and Angeal.

He closes the pages of his mystery novel with a soft sigh. Now officially done with the book, a sense of emptiness settles in, like it always does when a thrilling story reaches its end. 

His thoughts wander to the plot, and the revelation that, in the end, the husband was the murderer. He had unraveled the mystery before the final page, a small victory that ended up being the highlight of his…week, really. 

Genesis slumps in his seat, the triumph short-lived. He yearns to share the excitement of the book’s end with Sephiroth and Angeal and boast about his achievement. A knot tightens in his chest. Unfortunately, the fear of sounding annoying held him back.

His melancholy momentarily hushes when Sephiroth and Angeal approach. Surprisingly, they take their seats on either side of him, leaving the opposite side of the booth empty as they squeeze Genesis between them. Genesis can only mutter a confused “huh?” as their trays clatter atop the table. 

Angeal flashes him a genuine, bright smile that Genesis swears he hasn’t seen in months. “Hey!” he nudges him. “Did you hear about Sergeant Stevens? Apparently, Heidegger barred him from interacting with Scarlet on suspicion that she’s using him for another purpose.” 

Genesis is taken aback—not by the gossip, but by the topic coming from Angeal. “Um…no, I haven’t heard anything about that.” 

“Oh, it’s quite the scandal,” Sephiroth adds, offering Genesis a small smile. “But not a bigger scandal than the newest addition to the Sector 8 theater’s production of Loveless.”

Genesis is flummoxed. He feels his heart sink, heat rapidly rising to his face. 

“Oh?” Angeal leans over. “What happened?” 

Sephiroth pokes the roast beef with his fork, shrugging. “Based on what this week’s issue of Dramatica Magazine chronicles, the actress Eliza Moffit refuses to cooperate with Director Henry Fray unless he changes her lines to cater to a younger, more contemporary audience.” 

Genesis feels the initial signs of tears coming in, complete with a sharp pain in his nose and a throat that continues to close up by the minute. 

Angeal hums. “I heard about that. Apparently, her insistence on changing Minerva’s lines has caused a strain in the relations between the Loveless Theatre and the scholars who study the epic. Remember Carl Madden?”

Sephiroth nods. “The professor whose paper on the play’s use of Soliloquy Genesis annihilated online last year.” 

Genesis feels the tears spill from his eyes, hot and washing away the last trace of a smile from his face.

“Him!” Angeal snaps. “He’s threatening legal action against Miss Moffit.” 

“Quite the scandal,” Sephiroth says. 

“Isn’t it?” 

“What do you think, Genesis?” 

Genesis sniffs. “Um…” He quickly wipes away a tear. “C-Could you please stop making fun of me? I get it, I don’t need—whatever this is. I get it. I see your point already.” 

Angeal’s smile fades quicker than the fried rice on his plate has cooled. “Making fun of you? Gen, we’re not—hey, are you crying?” Now noticing the tears, he softly places a hand on Genesis’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Sephiroth follows suit, gently laying his hand on Genesis’s other shoulder. He looks concerned, watching another tear roll down his friend’s cheek. He frowns. “Is there something that we can help with?” 

Genesis shakes his head, sniffling as he reaches up to wipe away more tears. “I understand that you find my endless prattling annoying and tiresome. I’m trying my best to change.”

Had the sound of Angeal and Sephiroth’s hearts being sliced into two been any louder, the other side of the world would’ve heard it. They exchange anxious looks. 

Angeal lightly shakes Genesis’s shoulder. “Gen,” he says softly, as if talking to a child. “Can you look at me please?” 

Genesis reluctantly raises his head. 

Gen, we're not making fun of you. What gave you that idea?”

“We're genuinely interested in what you have to say,” Sephiroth adds. “We want to know how you're feeling.”

Genesis sniffs, his tears momentarily interrupted by confusion. "But... you were talking about…and I thought—"

Angeal interrupts him with a soft chuckle. “We were trying to lighten the mood, not mock you. You've seemed so down lately, and we haven’t been the most attentive friends to you.” 

A tinge of embarrassment colors Genesis's cheeks. He wipes away the remaining tears and sniffles again. "I... I misunderstood. I’m sorry.”

Sephiroth squeezes Genesis's shoulder reassuringly. “You’re not annoying, nor are you tiresome in any way. If I did not have you in my life, I’m certain I would’ve…” Sephiroth pauses, thinking hard. “....Chewed off my own foot by now.” 

The humorous analogy works. Genesis lets out a dry laugh, then looks at Sephiroth. 

Sephiroth hesitates, looking past Genesis at Angeal. “Every time I act annoyed with you, I thought I was playing my part in a joke we were all in on.” 

Angeal nods. “We didn’t realize that by ignoring you, we were hurting your feelings.” 

“Nor were we aware that you had feelings,” Sephiroth adds quietly. 

“Seph!” Angeal snaps, reaching behind Genesis and slapping the back of Sephiroth’s head.

Genesis laughs a little more. 

Angeal groans. “Our point is, you’re important to us. And we don’t want you dimming your shine just to appease people. Don’t ever do that.” 

“Ever,” Sephiroth agrees with a singular, arched eyebrow. “Do you understand how boring our lives would be without you in it?”

“Or how bored Sephiroth would be without someone to keep him in line,” Angeal grins. 

Sephiroth rolls his eyes, huffing. 

Genesis manages a weak smile, feeling both grateful and vulnerable. "I appreciate that. I just... I thought I was becoming a nuisance.” 

Sephiroth slips his hand from Genesis’s shoulder, crossing his arms as his focus veers to the glimmering city outside. He hesitates, “even if the morrow is barren of promises…”

Angeal and Genesis both look up, the former smiling before continuing the line. “Nothing shall forestall my return.”

Sephiroth nods, smiling. “To become the dew that quenches the land.”

“To spare the sands, the seas, the skies,” Angeal says, squeezing Genesis’s shoulder.

Genesis looks down at his lap, unable to contain his smile as warmth spreads through him. “I offer thee this silent sacrifice,” he says, huffing. “So you two have been listening to me.”

Angeal sinks down, resting his head on Genesis’s shoulder and sighing. “More like, you’ve beaten it into our heads.”

Sephiroth does the same, bracing his head on Genesis’s other shoulder—and yawning. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Genesis can’t believe his ears. Not only had they listened, but absorbed his words into the fabric of their friendship.

The weight of the loneliness that had crushed him before lifts, replaced by the light, reassuring presence of his two friends. 

He leans into the shared warmth, feeling a genuine sense of belonging as he closes his eyes. 

Everything feels perfect. 

Well—almost perfect. He wouldn’t be Genesis Rhapsodos if he didn’t strive to get the last word in

“Gentlemen,” he mutters, “this is why people think we're a throuple."

Laughter erupts from the three of them.

[gougarfem]

how was the process of getting a dumbphone!

oh my god this is something i'm so excited to talk about, sorry it took me so many months to respond!

getting a dumbphone improved my quality of life so so much. i knew my screentime was high, but didn't realise it was a genuine psychological addiction until i quit. the first few days were extremely rough. time seemed to pass about ten times slower, and i was forced to fill the hours with various hobbies and activities. i know we all love to tell people to touch grass, but i really did have to connect with nature and it did wonders for my mental health.

i think for the first three days i was constantly restless and horribly irritable, looked around for my phone every few minutes, felt intense boredom and even cried a few times lol. your addiction may not be as extreme as mine was and this varies from person to person. however, after about a week i realised i remembered everything i'd done each day, because it was filled with intentional activities and little moments of peace rather than a blur of scrolling. i also wasn't on adhd meds yet, which is something i'll talk about in another post.

not having everything at your fingertips is uncomfortable, but (and it's a cliche) you really start to appreciate the world around you more. i looked forward to spending time with my family, because it filled time and i wasn't half-involved in my phone the entire time. i use an mp3 player to listen to music, and uploading music to it is a meaningful and interesting activity, rather than just shuffling a playlist. i listen to whole albums instead of being flooded with dopamine from spotify firing recommended songs at me. i appreciate music more, i make CDs for friends, i have to be intentional in discovering new artists and music. if i'm having an interesting conversation online, i look forward to going home and logging onto my laptop to continue it. i don't spend my commute, time in class, or time with friends texting somebody else. everything feels more intentional, spaced out, and interesting, even the things i do online.

i also found i stopped performing in every activity i did. i stopped thinking about whether i could post it to instagram or instantly send a picture in a discord server. i started picking up new hobbies for myself, not for an online audience, and living in the moment more. this is really important in the modern age, although again uncomfortable.

the best part was how my connections with others increased through having a dumbphone. i started calling friends rather than messaging on five platforms at once, and they started reciprocating. my message threads are continuous, coherent conversations, rather than sending memes. people realised they have to intentionally reach out to me, and i lost relationships with people who weren't interested in that, but strengthened connections with people who did put in the effort (many of whom i barely talked to in the past). i give people my phone number, not my social media handle, and they actually start conversations with me rather than hitting follow. i get to hear my friends' voices when they have drama to share and realise it takes me forever to type on my flip phone keyboard. again, everything is intentional, takes time, and richer than when i had a smartphone.

i genuinely would recommend it to absolutely everyone (i've kind of become like a crossfit guy in telling people to get a dumbphone lol). i won't pretend it's easy, and most people make excuses - for the first few months of having a dumbphone, i was bedbound or in hospital, and truly relied on online connections to pass time and communicate. it still hugely improved my life. however, no matter your situation there are always, always better options than scrolling an app, and you deserve to pass your time in a memorable way. i think most people don't realise they're addicted/reliant on smartphones, and the idea of quitting is horribly uncomfortable, but at least for me, the benefits were worth it.

i'm happy to answer any questions, i literally could talk about this topic for hours (even if it's stuff like "how would i use x app" "how would i replace x smartphone function").

ditch your smartphone babe, u deserve better <33

[ironychan]

Scary Monsters

@dysphoria-sweatshirt @30spiders @sweatersexual @angrylittlesliceofpizza @writer652

Part 1/? - Rocco’s Closet

Part 2/? - School for Monsters

Part 3/? - The Waternoose Family

Part 4/? - The Terrifying Humans

Part 5/? - Hiding Places

Part 6/? - Nobody’s Fault

Part 7/? - Edge of Disaster

Part 8/? - Caged Monsters

Part 9/? - The Journey Home

Part 10/? - Portorosso

Part 11/? - A New Family

Part 12/? - More Obstacles

The rest of the day passed far too slowly. The kids finished their grape-picking and presented the results to Signora Visconti. She was delighted and effusive in her praise of their hard work, and gave them an extra bottle of wine, along with their pay, to take back to the Pescheria. Once they reached home, they gathered up the things they thought they'd need to capture Harry and then re-enter the Monster World - and after that, there was nothing to be done but wait.

Waiting with nothing to fill the time was always terrible, and this seemed worse than usual. Luca, Alberto, and Giulia sat in the yard behind the shop and played card games while the hours ticked by, slower and slower and slower. Luca at one point went in to check the time, thinking it must be suppertime by now, but found it was only half five. He returned to the table with his shoulders slumped, feeling like he was going to curl up in a ball and cry.

Then, just to make things even worse, his parents arrived.

Helena opened the gate for them, and Daniela and Lorenzo walked in with very serious expressions on their faces. Luca knew he couldn't groan out loud, but he certainly did inwardly.

"Luca," Daniela said. "Your father and I have been talking."

Luca felt sick to his stomach. "I have to do this!" he protested.

"Honey." Daniela reached to touch his cheek, but he twitched away. "Please just listen to us."

Luca scowled, but he sat down on the picnic table bench. He hardly needed to listen, he thought. He knew exactly what was coming next.

Daniela pulled another chair over to sit facing him. Lorenzo stood behind her with one supportive hand on her shoulder.

"Luca," Daniela repeated. "We know you want to help. You're very brave, and very responsible, and we are so proud of you. But from what you've said, this world sounds incredibly dangerous, ten times more dangerous than the land, and it really seems like Louise, Curtis, and Mr. Sullivan all decided themselves that they were going to take this risk."

"Sullivan didn't," said Luca. "He was just there, and he had to help because he was in trouble anyway!"

"We've already planned everything and earned all the money," Alberto pointed out.

"And Harry needs to go back to the Monster World," Giulia agreed. "We can't quit now!"

"See? They're going to help, and if you come with me we'll have a grownup and everything," Luca said. "I can't just sit at home when I don't know what's happening to them."

"From your description of these monsters..." Daniela began.

"You're scarier than any of them!" Alberto interrupted.

"You really are!" Luca said. "Even Mr. Waternoose wouldn't want to fight you!"

"I don't plan on fighting anybody," Daniela told them. "I'm sorry, Luca, I hate having to put my foot down like this, and I definitely don't want you to believe we're punishing you because we are definitely not. But the longer we think about this, the more sure we are that we have to say no. We can't let you. I'm sorry."

She wasn't angry, but she was firm, and Luca knew in his gut that was it. He hung his head.

"What about Harry?" Giulia asked. "We promised Ercole we'd get rid of him."

"Ercole will just have to get used to him," said Daniela. "That isn't your problem, either. You can't save the whole world all by yourself, Luca," she added, to her son.

Luca's shoulders sagged further. "Dad..." he began.

"Sorry, son, but I have to agree with your mother on this," said Lorenzo. He came and put an arm around Luca's shoulders, and helped him to stand up. "Let's head home."

There was no arguing with that. Luca kept his head down, and did not speak as his parents led him out of the yard and down the steps to the water. Alberto and Giulia, too, sat in silence as Helena closed the gate behind them.

"I'm sorry," she said to the children. "I know you were all eager to do this, but... I think the Paguros are probably right. Do you want me to stay a few more days, Passerota?" she asked her daughter. "I don't have to go back tonight."

"No, that's fine," said Giulia. "Not if you don't want to."

Helena brushed Giulia's hair back to kiss her forehead, and then went indoors.

For a few minutes, Alberto and Giulia sat there in silence. Alberto leaned his head back, looking at the first few stars winking into view above. To be honest, he didn't like the idea of going back to the Monster World very much earlier. Nobody there had liked them, it was much harder to stay wet there than it was to stay dry in Portorosso, and the food hadn't been very good. They'd barely escaped the first time and there was no guarantee they'd be able to do it again. But as he'd pointed out, they'd made that whole plan and earned all that money - and more importantly, Luca really really wanted to.

Alberto himself wanted a lot of things, like a Vespa and comic books and a bell for his bicycle, but if he didn't get something right away he usually lost interest in a couple of weeks and moved on to something else. Luca was different. When Luca wanted something, he wanted it with every cell in his body and he didn't get to distracted. Alberto had come to realize that if Luca hadn't been allowed to go to school in Genova, he would have spent the entire winter moping about it, and now he was going to do the same about this.

"Right, then." Alberto stood and rolled up his sleeves. "We need a new plan."

"New plan for what?" asked Giulia morosely, leaning on her knees. She was contemplating a summer with both Ercole and Harry doing their best to make her miserable. She wasn't sure if they'd cooperate or if they'd make it a competition and she couldn't decide which would be worse.

"For how we're gonna kidnap Luca after we kidnap Harry," said Alberto.

Giulia sat up, brightening momentarily, but then she frowned again. "His mom will kill us."

"She'll have to wait until we get back from Monster World," Alberto said. "Come on. What would you have done if Luca's parents had said he wasn't allowed to go to school with you?"

"I'd've been down about it," Giulia replied, "but I wouldn't have done anything."

"Well, I would," Alberto declared. "I would have take him there on our Vespa myself. Are you gonna help, or not?"

Giulia got to her feet. She, too, knew that when Luca wanted something he wanted it intensely, and this was clearly something that meant a lot to him. "I'm coming," she decided.

"Great!" Alberto nodded. "I've already got an idea."

She snickered. "Uh-oh."

Twenty minutes later, the two of them were standing outside the Visconti house, throwing pebbles at a particular bedroom window. After a couple of hits, the window opened, and Harry looked down at them.

"I'm not leaving," he informed them, and started to close the shutters again.

"Wait!" Giulia said. "We need your help!"

Harry hesitated, then leaned out again. "With what?"

"You know how Luca wants to go back and help Louise?" Alberto said. "His parents dont' want to let him do it. They're keeping him at home, so we need to help him escape."

"That means we need a boat," Giulia added, "but my dad will definitely notice if we take his. Ercole's got one. Can you guys help us?"

"If you do," Alberto said, "we'll owe you a favour, big time."

That was something Harry understood. "What kind of favour?"

"Whatever you need," said Giulia. "We're desperate!" She crossed her fingers behind her back.

"Let me see if my new brother is still awake," Harry said.

Ercole had been expecting them, but not for Harry to be the one letting him know they'd arrived. He was in his pajamas with his hair mussed as if he'd already been in bed, and yawning as Harry dragged him out the back door to meet their guests. His expression was suspicious. This wasn't the original plan, and for a moment Giulia was afraid he was about to ask why they hadn't brought the net with them and how they were planning on kidnapping Harry without it.

Luckily, he was smarter than that. Ercole's first question was, "where did the other one go?"

"That's why we're here," said Alberto, and explained the situation.

Ercole listened with crossed arms and an annoyed expression, not sure why any of this was his problem. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of Harry.

"What about him?" he asked.

"We need a lookout," said Giulia innocently. She gave a quick wink.

Ercole must have understood. "Right, right," he said. "Let me get some real clothes on."

"We'll wait," Giulia promised.

"My new mom has called a tailor all the way from La Spezia to make me new clothes," said Harry proudly. "She told him it's a very special job."

"It's the same fellow she gets to make little jackets for her dogs," Ercole said, and went back indoors to change.

He returned a few minutes later, still running a comb through his hair, now carefully oiled into place. Alberto and Giulia urged him and Harry to stay quiet as they made their way back down to the piazza. There, a bit more caution was necessary - even aside from the whole kidnapping plot, it was too late in the evening for young people to be wandering around unaccompanied, and anybody who saw them was likely to insist they go straight home. They kept to the shadows as they crept out onto the pier and climbed into Ercole's boat.

Ercole went to start the motor, but Alberto put out an oar to block him.

"Too loud," Giulia said, shaking her head.

"Are you suggesting we paddle the entire way?" Ercole asked.

"No." She rolled her eyes. "Just far enough that nobody will hear the noise."

"Well, I'm not paddling." Ercole crossed his arms and stuck his large nose up in the air.

"Neither am I," said Harry, mimicking the gesture.

"You two wouldn't be any good at it anyway, with your noodly arms," Alberto sneered.

Ercole's eyes narrowed. "Are you calling me weak?"

"Yes," said Alberto.

"He sure is," said Harry, happy to cause chaos.

"I row the boat all the time for Massimo," Alberto said. "I'll get us there way faster than somebody who never even carries anything heavier than a basket of grapes."

"All right." Ercole reached for the oar. "Give me that."

"I thought you didn't want to." Alberto held it away.

"I said give it to me!"

"Basta, both of you!" hissed Giulia, brandishing her own oar threateningly. "You're going to make noise and then we'll get caught!" She sat down and put the oar in the lock. "Somebody better help me or we'll just go in circles."

Ercole snatched the oar from Alberto and sat down beside her. "I'm bigger than you," he told Alberto. "I can pull a stroke further." He turned around to start doing so.

Alberto smiled and sat back, hands behind his head.

They rowed out of the harbour into the gathering dark, and once they'd made it to where Giulia thought they'd be safe, she lit a lantern and let Ercole start the motor. Alberto pointed him in the direction of Luca's house. They rumbled off.

"You know, this is how Il Papa got Michelangelo to paint La Capella Sistina," Giulia told the boys. "He asked and asked and Michelangelo wouldn't do it, so the Popel said, fine, I hear you're no good at fresco anyway. Then Michelangelo had to do it, just to show him up."

"See?" Ercole asked Alberto. "It is a mark of greatness."

Alberto sneered at him, then sat up and pointed at the bottom of the boat. "Here! Right here! Stop here!"

Ercole turned the motor off and threw the anchor over. The boat came quickly to the end of the chain and dragged it a couple of metres, then began drifting in a circle over where the weight had landed. Giulia took charge.

"Okay, ragazzi," she said, cracking her knuckles. "Ercole, you get ready to start the engine and go the moment we're ready. Harry, you watch out for other boats. I'll look after Alberto." She turned to her foster-brother. "Go get Luca!"

"This was my plan," Alberto reminded her. "I know what I'm doing." He took his hat off and dived into the dark sea.

Giulia watched him vanish into the water, and kept a grip on the anchor chain, ready to pull it up fast. Hopefully they could get this done in a hurry, before Harry realized that they didn't really need both him and Ercole for the task. Ercole's hand was on the motor, ready to start it, and Harry himself peered towards the town, waiting and watching.

Alberto knew where Luca's house was. Sea monsters had an innate sense of the right direction to get to anywhere they'd been before - Luca and Giulia thought it had something to do with the earth being a giant magnet, but Alberto didn't care as long as it told him which way to swim. He soon saw the gentle pink glow of the bioluminescent jellyfish the sea monsters used to light their homes, and headed towards it.

He went around behind the barn so as not to disturb the goatfish, which might make a racket if they thought a predator was close. From there he darted to the base of the little tower where the family stored crops and tools, and rounded it to the place where it joined the body of the house. There was Luca's bedroom window. Alberto pulled himself up to the sill, and peered in.

Luca wasn't there.

Alberto's heart beat a little faster. Time, in the human sense of hours and schedules, was a concept he still had some trouble with but he knew they didn't have much of it. If they didn't make it to the last train to Genova tonight, they would have to go home, and then they'd be caught and everything would be ruined. He glanced back at the boat bobbing on the surface, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, then slithered in through the window like an eel.

Once inside, he could hear the voices. People in the next room were having an argument.

"We've been through this, Luca!" Daniela was saying. "The answer is no!"

"It doesn't sound like a safe place for children," Lorenzo agreed, resolute.

"Fine," said Luca, "but can I at least sleep in my own room, then?"

"No," said Daniela.

"You don't trust me!" Luca complained.

"Not when you're obviously trying to sneak away again, no, we don't!" Daniela informed him.

Luca didn't reply, and Alberto knew why - he couldn't argue with that. He'd slipped out of the house to run away to Portorosso last summer, and now he was planning on doing it again. Alberto wouldn't be able to do anything if Luca was forced to sleep in his parents' room, so he had to do something now.

He slipped back out the window and backed off a little ways. It was important that he be out of breath when he arrived .

Alberto aimed himself at the door, and swam as hard as he could. He came bursting in, trailing a current that knocked things off shelves and startled Lorenzo Paguro's show crabs, which began running around in a panic. Alberto himself tried to stop but plowed right into Daniela, who shrieked in surprise and dismay as they both crashed against the kitchen wall, knocking down the bundles of herbs she had tied to the ceiling.

"Alberto!" she exclaimed. "What under the waves..."

Alberto extracted himself from the tangle of limbs, tails, and seaweed, panting. His heart was hammering, not only because of the exertion but because of what he now needed to do. This wouldn't be the first time he'd lied and there was no way it would be the last, but it was going to have to be the greatest performance of his life. "Luca!" he called out. "Giulia's hurt!"

"What?" Luca asked. He grabbed Alberto's arm to pull him out of the mess.

"What?" echoed Daniela, gathering up the drifting herbs. "What happened?"

"We were up in the treehouse after you left, and one of the boards broke and she fell!" Alberto panted, hanging on tight to Luca's shirt. "Massimo's called the doctor and everything, come on!" He swam for the door, dragging his friend behind him.

"My crabs!" Lorenzo exclaimed, trying to herd them up.

"Wait for me!" Daniela protested as the boys fled. For a moment Alberto's stomach sank, thinking she would be right behind them, but then she yelped in pain as one of the crabs grabbed her tail fin. "Lorenzo! Control your crustaceans!"

"I'm trying!"

"Swim for your life!" Alberto whispered to Luca. He dashed ahead to tug the anchor chain, signalling to Giulia to reel it in before Luca's parents could see it. Seconds later, he burst out of the water with a splash that soaked both Ercole and Harry, and set the boat rocking violently as he landed inside.

"Porca paletta! Was that necessary?" asked Ercole, grabbing a mirror to check his hair.

Alberto didn't even bother to answer. He reached in the water to pull Luca up after him.

"Start the motor!" Giulia said. "Start the motor!" But Ercole was still looking at his reflection. Giulia pushed him out of the way and yanked on the chain herself.

The motor stalled.

"Come on! Come on!" Alberto urged. If Luca's parents caught up they were never going to get away.

On the second try, the motor coughed to like. Ercole snatched the throttle back from Giulia and turned them towards their agreed getaway location on shore. This was not the harbour where they'd come from, but another little quay directly below the train station. The boat sped along, skipping in and out of the water as it went.

Luca was only just starting to catch his breath. "Thanks, guys," he panted.

"Hey, I helped you run away from home once," said Alberto with a dismissive wave. "What's one more time?"

"It was my idea!" said Harry.

They pulled the boat up below the train station, and Luca, Alberto, and Giulia climbed out. Giulia counted the money to make sure they had all of it, and then the three of them turned to face Ercole and Harry.

"Thank you, Ercole," said Giulia, as if the words tasted bad.

"You might not be totally terrible," Alberto agreed, equally grudging.

Ercole sniffed - and then it was time. "Oh," he said, "I almost forgot." And he reached under the boat's seat and pulled out a net to throw over Harry. Alberto and Giulia jumped on him to tie him up. Harry yelped and struggled, but his many legs quickly got tangled, and Alberto stuffed a gag in his mouth. Ercole pulled out the second item he'd stashed in the boat ahead of time, a suitcase, and they stuffed Harry insite.

"So we are even, then," said Ercole cautiously, as the kids zipped the suitcase closed around the struggling monster. "I helped you kidnap Luca, you take that little bug away, and nobody owes anybody else anything, ever."

"Correct," said Giulia. "Nobody is allowed to call this in as a favour later. You two are our witnesses," she told the boys.

Luca and Alberto nodded seriously.

Ercole extended a hand. Giulia shook it.

"Now we go back to hating each other, Spewlia," said Ercole.

"Correto, Catfish."

Ercole started the engine and puttered off again, and Giulia and the boys set to work dragging the suitcase up the stairs. Harry was heavier than he looked and had to be tugged up each step individually, making a muffled yelp of protest with each bounce. The kids ignored this as best they could, and hoped the gag would hold. If he worked it free enough to shout, they would have a real problem.

At the top, they approached the ticket office. Alberto, the tallest, strutted up to the window and flashed a confident grin as he presented the man with their money. "Three children for Genova!" he said.

The clerk peered over his half-moon glasses at them. "Are you three travelling alone?"

"Yes," said Alberto.

The clerk was clearly skeptical. "Where are your parents?"

"They said we're old enough to do this ourselves," Alberto replied. Behind him, Luca and Giulia nodded eagerly.

"Do you mind if I call them?" the clerk asked. Like almost everybody else in Portorosso, he knew that Luca, Alberto, and Giulia were a unit - and that while well-meaning, they were good at getting into trouble.

"You know there's no phone at the Pescheria," Alberto told him.

"Don't worry. I'm right here," said Helena Marcovaldo.

The kids spun around. She'd been sitting in the waiting room with her own small bag, and they, intent on their own mission, had entirely missed her. The kids grouped closer together, but they knew it was no good. They were caught now and would be dragged back home. Luca would have to face the wrath of his parents, and heaven knew what everyone would think when they found out Harry was in the suitcase.

Helena came closer and leaned in to talk to them. "Did your parents change their minds, Luca?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," he whispered, but could not meet her eyes while he did so.

"I thought so," said Helena with a resigned nod. "This is extremely important to you, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Luca repeated.

Helena straightened up. "They're with me," she told the clerk. "They wanted to pay their own way, but if it's a problem, I'm here."

"It's no problem," the clerk said, relieved. "I just wanted to be sure they weren't up to any mischief." He took the money, and handed each of them a ticket. "Have a pleasant trip."

Luca breathed such a sigh that Alberto and Giulia grabbed his arms, afraid he would pass out from sheer relief.

The train pulled up a few minutes later, and the four of them boarded. Helena's suitcase went in the luggage rack above the window, and Harry's was pushed neatly under the seats. It thumped against the floorboards a couple of times as he struggled inside, earning a strange look from the conductor until Alberto started swinging his legs as if kicking in boredom. That seemed to be enough of an explanation, and the man moved on.

"I don't suppose your mother is ever going to forgive me," Helena remarked.

"Probably not," Luca agreed. "She's probably never going to forgive me, either. Maybe they'll even send me to the Deep after all." He shivered.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Giulia said.

"No, I gotta do this," Luca replied, determined. "Even if I do end up in the Deep. It's not fair to Louise. She got in so much trouble trying to help us."

"You know, a lot of things aren't fair," Helena told Luca.

"That's what Mom says," Luca said. "I say it's not fair and she goes, the world isn't fair, Luca. But just because the world's not fair doesn't mean I have to be."

Helena chuckled. "Your mother's lucky you're so quiet, Luca. If you wanted to be rebellious you'd be an absolute terror."

The train they'd caught had been the last to leave Portorosso that day, and it was very dark by the time they arrived, yawning, in Genova. There was no chance of sneaking into the museum tonight - their plan required them to start in daylight. Instead, they collected their things and went back to Helena's apartment

At some point during the train ride, Harry's suitcase had stopped twitching, as if the prisoner inside had fallen asleep. Luca was slightly worried that he might have suffocated, but when they dragged him down the steps to the platform, the bumping woke him up, and he began to make noise again. They hurried home and unzipped the suitcase on Helena's kitchen floor.

Immediately, Harry spat the gag out, and began yelling.

"This is unacceptable!" he declared. "When my father he... I mean, when my new mom hears about this... when either of them hears about this! They're gonna..."

"We don't care," said Alberto.

"You will care!" vowed Harry. "My father with ruin your lives! You'll never have work anywhere in Monstropolis! You'll never work anywhere! He'll buy that stupid fish shop out from under you and shut it down!"

"We don't live in Monstropolis," said Giulia.

"And Massimo wouldn't sell the Pescheria no matter how much money you gave him," Alberto said.

Harry sputtered and looked around for the nearest adult to back him up. "Are you condoning this behaviour?" he demanded of Helena.

"Apparently I am," she said. "If I weren't, I would have gotten them off the train or called their parents. Which reminds me." She looked at Giulia. "You, young lady, are not going through any closet doors. Luca and Alberto can hide in that world. You can't."

"I know, Mom," said Giulia.

"You can't stop her from coming! Not after you helped me and Luca!" Alberto protested.

"No, Mamma's right," Giulia told him. "Anyway, I gotta go back to Portorosso and find another kid with a monster in his closet, so we can give you a quick way back home. We'll catch the monster and prop the door open." She looked proud of this plan.

"Thanks, Giulia," said Luca. "That's a great idea."

"If I'm going to be a hostage, can I at least have something to eat?" Harry asked, annoyed.

"I think we all need a snack and a good night's sleep," Helena said. "Let's see what we've got."

She made them all sandwiches and cocoa, and then got out extra bedding so that Harry and Alberto would have places to sleep.

"I don't want to hear anybody screaming in the middle of the night," she added. "We don't need any more chaos. That goes for all little monsters, including the human ones." Helena looked straight at her daughter.

"Yes, Mamma," said Giulia dutifully.

"Si, Signora Marcovaldo," Luca and Alberto chorused.

Harry said nothing.

There was very little conversation as they settled down for bed. There was an unspoken agreement among Giulia and the boys that they would all lie down and shut their eyes right away, because they knew Harry would try something the moment he thought they were asleep. They wanted to catch him in the act.

Sure enough, the lights had been out only about twenty minutes when they heard the floorboards creek. Giulia reached over and turned on a lamp, and all three sat up to see Harry creeping towards the door.

"I am going to the bathroom," Harry said indignanly.

"We'd better show you where it is," Giulia said.

"I've been here before," Harry reminded her.

"Just in case," she said, glaring at him. Harry glared back with all five eyes.

Since Giulia was a girl, it was Luca and Alberto who had to get up and stumble down the hall with Harry to the bathroom. He shut and locked the door, and they waited outside through the sound of running water, followed by a series of thumps and mutterings.

"Is there a window in there?" asked Alberto.

"Yeah." Luca rubbed his eyes. "It doesn't open, though. The lock's been stuck for years."

Alberto nodded.

A few more minutes went by, then Harry opened the door again, annoyed but defeated. He did not speak to Luca or Alberto as they escorted him back to bed.

There was relative quiet after that. The three kids did their best to stay at least partially awake, one ear always listening for anything suspicious. They were all tired, though, and eventually they dropped off one by one. Alberto was first, and started snoring. Giulia pulled a pillow over her head to block him out, and was asleep shortly thereafter. Luca tried the hardest to keep his eyes open, but at last he, too, had to close them.

All three were abruptly awakened by the sound of shattering glass.

They sat up, blinking in the darkness. The kitchen clocked chimed for three in the morning, and floorboards creaked in the hall.

"Is everybody okay?" Helena asked, cracking the bedroom door open.

Giulia felt around for the lamp and turned it on, and looked around the room. Luca was in the other bed, rubbing his eyes. Alberto was sitting on the mattress they'd put on the floor for him. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly wide awake, Giulia scrambled out of bed and past her mother to try the bathroom door. The boys, who'd come to the same conclusion a split second later, were right behind her, and all three cried out in dismay when they found the door was locked.

"Harry!" Giulia banged on it. "What are you doing?"

There was no reply. Giulia rattled the knob.

"Calm down. Here's the key." Helena reached up to take it down from the ledge above the door frame. She got it open, and the kids crowded around her to see what was going on in the bathroom.

The room was empty. The lights were out. The window was broken.

[kywaslost]

Hii!! I hope you are having a good day❤

Would it be okay to ask some comfort with Hawks (or Izuku) where the reader feels like they are always annoying him and apologizing about it a lot.

Like they feel like they might be too clingy at times, or that they are talking too much when getting excited about something. Or if they ask him to do something small like asking for a water they immediately say something like "actually no, I'm sorry I can get it for myself."

Basically they are just afraid they are being annoying and he would eventually start hate them for it and leave

(I love your writings so much!!❤ Reading them makes me always smile! :3 I hope you had good Christmas!❤)

You Don’t Bother Me - Izuku

A/N: Hey! My day’s been alright, hope you’re having an amazing day <3 I love this idea so much because this is my thought process lol. I always find that my writings are better when I can have some sort of personal connection with them :) And I’m so glad you like my writings, that makes me so happy!! I hope you had an amazing Christmas as well!!!!

Most people have the slight thought pass through their mind from time to time, ‘am I annoying?’. Of course, there are some who don’t give a care in the world, and those are the people no one can stand most of the time. Then there are the ones who sometimes act on this thought, maybe opting out of certain actions or choosing not to say certain things just to be a more likable person. Finally, there are the ones who overthink this thought. They stew over it endlessly, which only ends up with them convinced to the high heavens that they are the most bothersome person around and no one likes them.

Alright, maybe you didn’t take it that far, but you most certainly were one of the few people who overthink about their status with others. Especially your boyfriend Izuku Midoriya. He was just so sweet and kind to you that you sometimes felt like maybe he thought it was a chore to help you with things or to do things for you.

You weren’t sure when you first thought he may be annoyed by you. Maybe it was the time when you asked him for an emergency study date for math because you had an exam the next day and were lagging behind in class a bit. You felt bad because Izuku already had work studies with Endeavor and he looked worn down, but nevertheless, he smiled softly and said, “Sure. I’ll meet you in your dorm in about half an hour.”

That night, as you lay in bed, you began to think of every time Izuku had inconvenienced you. The countless times he had helped you with homework, or dropped whatever he was doing to calm you down when you got anxious or scared. That happened often. You rolled over, pulled your blanket tighter around yourself, and tried to sleep away the thoughts.

A few days later, you were hanging out in Izuku’s room. You both had the day off and chose to spend the day together. Izuku had just gotten out of the shower and flopped down on his bed when you walked into the room. Your movements were quick and it startled the boy.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You huffed, blowing hair from your eyes as you turned to your boyfriend. You began to pace as you answered, “I’m fine. Just frustrated.”

“Why?” Izuku sat up, all of his attention on you as you began to ramble.

“I was playing Minecraft with (best friend), you know, my friend from middle school, and we had cheats on to keep inventory. We decided I could use commands to find the location of the nearest stronghold, which was 1071 blocks away.” You went on to explain how you spent an hour and a half mining to the strong hold just for it to be a staircase and 1 room. No hallways, no portal room.

The more in detail you got in your little rant, the more you began thinking that Deku would rather talk about something else, or how this is just an inconvenience for him. As you neared the end of your tale you spoke slower and a lot quieter. “Sorry. You probably didn’t want to hear all of that.”

Izuku laughed gently, shaking his head. “I don’t mind Y/N. I love hearing your rants.” He stood up and pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your head with a smile. “Now what do you want to do today?”

As time passed you couldn’t help but feel like you were bothering Izuku. When deciding what to eat for lunch, Izuku insisted he’d make whatever you wanted since you were much more of a picky eater than he was. You felt bad, because you knew he didn’t particularly like what you were craving at the moment. And then you felt bad because he was cooking for you.

“No, Izu, I can make lunch myself,” you smiled slightly. “I know you don’t really like (favorite food).”

“I’ll cook whatever you want me to,” he smiled back. “Really, it’s no bother.”

When the two of you went to train later in the afternoon, you finally met your breaking point. You felt so bad for Izuku. In your mind, he had to deal with you and put you before himself. You had to start training on what you needed to work on, and breaks had to be taken whenever you were feeling weary. Every time you asked Midoriya if he needed a break because he was looking worn down, he’d deny it and keep training.

During one of your breaks, you fell to the ground and let the coolness of the floor cool you off. You had finished off your water bottle on the last break, so you had nothing to drink for the moment.

“Y/N, I’m going to go get a snack, would you like anything?” your boyfriend asked, looking down to you on the floor.

“Yeah, can I have some water? I drank all of mine.” The second the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn’t want to annoy Izuku more than you thought you already had. “Actually, I’m sorry. I can get it myself.” You pushed yourself up on your feet, swaying slightly.

Izuku placed a hand on your shoulder to steady you, frowning. “Hey, no, don’t be sorry. I can get it. You need to rest for a moment.”

You shook your head, tears brimming your eyes. And then you cried, covering your face with your hands.

Your sudden outburst startled Izuku, and his arms immediately wrapped around you in a tight hug. “Honey, what’s wrong? Are you overworked? Did I do something?”

You took a moment to cry into your boyfriend’s chest, gripping his sweaty shirt. It took a while, but your sobs finally died down to soft whimpers and you were able to speak again. “I feel so bad for annoying you,” you sniffled. “I”ve been bothering you a lot recently. I’m just afraid you’re going to have enough of it and break up with me because I’m too clingy. I--”

Izuku cuts you off, hugging you tighter. “Baby, you aren’t bothering me. You don’t annoy me. You aren’t clingy, Y/N.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and sighed. “I figured something was going on. You’ve been apologizing a lot more. I was worried about you. But I’m glad you’ve told me what’s going on.” He gently pushed you to sit down on the bench behind you, then wiped the tears from your eyes with his thumb. “I’m going to get you some water and a snack. Then we’ll head back to the dorms. We’re going to spend the rest of the evening talking through this.” He smiled softly. “I want you to feel comfortable, n/n. I love you. I hope you know that.”

Izuku spent the rest of the night helping you work through your feelings. He reassured you that you were never a bother to him and that he would do anything for you. He ordered your favorite take-out, put on your favorite tv show, and cuddled you in his bed. Deku hated that you felt this way, and he promised to work with you on your self-esteem around him.

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Spiderwebs Part 6: Master of Puppets

I know I let this fall by the wayside, but I didn't realize it had been almost a year. Wild. This series was about trying to nail down how Dressrosa thematically ties in with where we're at in Wano to Egghead. Particularly the through line that passes through Kiku's quietly significant story. For Doffy himself, the idea is quite simple; if I'm making the argument that many of these New World women have built a space for a sensible final member, whoever it may be, then Doflamingo is the display of how vexing it can be to face someone with this skill set.

For all the love some other lines get, the best one from Doffy is right here as he's revealing he played Law like a damn fiddle. I swear I have thoughts when I go looking for this stuff and it never ceases to impress me how the story always seems to up the ante when you finally do. The best illusions rely on the simplest tricks. He's right, especially with the follow-up:

I want to be 100% clear, when I talk about the way Kiku & Yamato play off each other in Wano...this logic is what it runs on. It's that simple trick that spins a grand illusion and it works because it doesn't feel very battle shonen. Kiku does way more in terms of bonding with the crew and contributing to the plot, not to mention the deeper connections, but the story plays along with both you not liking it when people dote on you as well as Yamato's bluster. If nothing else, Doffy shows Eiichiro Oda is familiar with the concept. The assumption this series wouldn't rely on a kinda meta plot like that for something big because it hasn't before is exactly why it'd work.

What makes Doffy different than the Paradise warlords? Crocodile and Moria lost in the New World but stayed their own men. They just had to retreat and lower their aims. Learn to take things slower. The hard version of the growth we like seeing out of Luffy in early Wano. Doffy on the other hand takes the other route for survival in the New World. He works with the Emperors. But as a broker. Someone who is working his "benefactors" to his own ends too. To me there's a logic there; finding someone like Doffy to fill these gaps is a way to move ahead where the others failed, not have to learn that lesson the hard way. But the wrong person can use those same skills to instigate infighting and manipulate you.

Getting there though, gotta love how Doffy takes over the country. I just adore the design of him lounging in King Riku's window like that. It's such a well executed plan he gets by with open, horrific evil and the people cheer him. Twice, the people cheer for a "hero" that destroys the country. He doesn't rule the same way Kaido will, if you play by his rules Dressrosa actually becomes wealthier. At a cost of contributing more to global suffering as an arms dealer. A lot of the people give in though, indulge their bloodlust in the Colosseum and even with his Birdcage game.

Speaking of, full display of the strengths someone like this relies on. For so much time he was able to sit up there with his executives and make the country fight itself. Promise of money, fear, someone who understands people understands how easy it is to motivate them.

If the main villains are all manifestations of what Luffy could become...that makes Doffy interesting. See I actually think Luffy could become this type of person. Jaded and cynical enough he justifies atrocities through the idea he's protecting his family. Perverting his natural charm and charisma to manipulate those with nowhere else to go. It's why Oden is a great cautionary tale too. Gets me to Baby 5 here. I love this little interchange where Doffy & Luffy show how different they are. Baby 5 immediately steps up and blasts this guy who laughs at Pica's voice. Any of them would, it's cool though how Baby 5 wasn't really a major part of the scene and it feels so sudden. Luffy immediately does the same after, and it isn't long after that we see him learn Doflamingo killed Corazon.

That's usually Luffy's big line, he hates leaders who abuse their subordinates and honestly I chalk that up to the likely (to me) idea a big part of his motivation was growing up a lonely kid sitting in a small town bar. The story makes them natural enemies, which comes up in what we learn of the big D. But we learn a lot from our enemies and that's what I feel gets carried over into WCI/Wano/Egghead.

[nackrosor]

"Lady Strange"

Part 2/?

pairing: Eddie Munson x metalhead!Reader warnings: none yet series' general plot: heavy metal is one of your biggest passions and you like to express yourself by wearing heavy makeup and mostly black clothes, chains and spikes. Your parents however force you to hide your personality because they care about keeping up pretenses and don’t want people to label you as a freak. Something or someone unexpected might come in your life and shake things up. ;) episode synopsis: Eddie starts 'annoying' you at school. word count: 1,6 k.

-PART 1-

“Oof, wha-”

You wobble on your feet for a moment, staggering backward before regaining your balance and throwing a stink-eye behind your shoulder; the guy who has just bumped hard into you is walking away as casually as possible, as if he didn’t almost knock you over. He didn't even acknowledge your presence. What an asshole.

You let out an exasperated sigh while re-adjusting the shoulder pad of your backpack and moving forward in the corridor toward your locker. 

It’s a new shitty day and you're at your shitty school, surrounded by shitty people; a day in the life of a girl forced to pretend to be just another walking corpse and actually succeeding in being invisible, so invisible that others walk downright over you as if you’re not even occupying space. What a marvelous life.

The tight collar of your white shirt makes your skin itch and you unceremoniously pop it open, mentally cursing your parents for the millionth time for forcing you to wear such crappy clothes. “We can’t have you looking like a devil worshiper, can we darling?” Yeah well, people would definitely think twice before getting within 10 feet of the devil worshiper, let alone crushing into them. The sole advantage of looking exactly like everyone else is the anonymity that comes with it, but it gets old after a while, especially when you start feeling lonely, and you will get lonely at some point, there's no way around it.

You come to a halt as you round the corner, your stomach doing a somersault.

Eddie is beaming at you as he leans against your locker, arms folded across his chest. 

Hundreds of questions start to buzz in your head and as many stupid butterflies wreak havoc in your belly as you mindlessly resume walking, albeit at a slower pace than before.

You haven’t seen him in a couple of days, since Robin introduced you to her new group of friends last weekend and you had that weird anti-posers battle-thingy at the mall with him. But why is he now laying so nonchalantly against your locker as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to do? Have you made it to the friend-zone overnight?

As soon as you’re within earshot, you glance up at him with a quizzical look upon your face.

“What are you doing here?”

Somehow his grin widens as he looks you up and down, “well, hello to you too, stranger.” 

He taps on the name tag on the locker, your locker, and purses his lips. "I'm looking for Y/L/N; have you seen her anywhere?"

You sigh and shake your head, casting a quick glance at your schoolmates passing by before returning your gaze to him.

“ No , wrong locker. That’s mine”, you take a step forward, urging him to back up as you reach for the lock, “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me take my lunch now.”

“Mmh, I don’t think so.” 

Instead of stepping away from it, he puts himself between you and the locker, blocking your way, arms moving to fold over his chest once more.

You snort incredulously at his antics as you stare up at him.

“I’m Y/L/N’s locker guardian. I need to hear the magic word to let anyone pass.”

“Eddie c’mon! I don’t have time for this.”

“If it’s your locker, you should know the password. It should only take a second.”

Even as you roll your eyes at him, you can feel a smile tug at your lips. Apparently everything turns into a game with Eddie and you can’t help but feel the thrill of it.

You humm, squinting your eyes at him as you mentally dip into the arcane knowledge you’ve hoarded from your favorite books and games, trying to think of something that could surprise Eddie, and why not, maybe even woo him a little.

“Mellon!”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, his mouth agape.

He staggers back, grasping the lockers behind him as he slips away in a rather dramatic fashion. His wide-open eyes, however, never leave you, not even for a second. 

You chuckle lightly and shake your head as you finally reach up for the lock and drop the book you were carrying. 

"Sauron got your tongue all of a sudden?" 

You pick a sandwich from your lunch box then push the locker door closed. Your smug look meets Eddie’s astonished gaze.

"You-you're telling me, you know The Lord of the Rings?!" 

" Know the Lord of the Rings?" you scoff mockingly, feeling a rush of confidence wash over you at the utter incredulity that seems to have taken hold of him. "That's the understatement of the century. I adore it! I worship it! Tolkien is my favorite author and The Silmarillion is basically my bible."

You can literally see his jaw drop to the ground and you can't suppress the snort-laugh that escapes you. 

"Are you fucking kidding me???"

His raised voice makes some passers-by turn to look at the two of you but he doesn't notice or doesn't seem to care.  You, on the other hand, recoil at your classmates' questioning glances and immediately hush Eddie, grabbing him by the vest and pushing him down the corridor. 

He wobbles a little on his feet as he tries to keep up with your hurried step. 

You cast one final glance behind your back before you admonish the longhaired boy with a pointed look. You then peel the napkin off your sandwich and give it a good bite, all the while keeping a swift pace to get as far away from the crowd as possible. You can’t let people talk about you and Eddie, you can’t risk your parents finding out about your new devil worshiper… acquaintance, friend, whatever he is. 

"Wait, wait, wait!", he pulls on your sleeve, trying to slow you down. "You listen to metal, you like Tolkien… Just tell me you also play the guitar and I'm done! I'm a goner!"

You eye him amusedly, noticing how his still wide eyes roam over your face, how he's literally pending from your lips. You can’t lie to yourself, the attention he’s giving you makes you feel rather giddy and you like the feeling.

As you take another bite of your sandwich you mutter nonchalantly, " bass ."

"What?" 

You swallow the mouthful and briefly clear your throat. "I play the bass guitar." 

He comes to an abrupt halt, causing you to stop in your tracks as well. He keeps blinking at you, a deadpan expression on his face. You don't have time to process what's going on before he clutches his chest with his palm and violently jolts backward, as if he's just been taken down by a sniper. 

"Eddie, what the hell! " 

He pushed himself backwards so forcefully that if you hadn't caught him, he'd have fallen on the floor and possibly hit the back of his head real hard. His entire weight is on your arms and your grip turns white, your muscles trembling, fingers slipping… You consider letting him go but fortunately, he comes back to his senses and helps himself up by holding onto the lockers by his side, getting dangerously close to you in the process. Your breath catches and your stomach does a flip as his gaze briefly flickers down to your lips before meeting your doe-eyed look. You can feel your heart thumping hard in your ears, from the save or his sudden closeness, you can’t really tell.

“Great catch, princess…”

Perhaps it’s only your perception but he sways closer, leaning in as if he’s about to…

You step back in a panic, heat rising in your cheeks, mouth dry.

Eddie looks dazed for a moment, then an infuriating smirk takes form on his lips, which makes it easier for you to snap out of it, too.

"Y-you're crazy!" 

" You’re crazy! Murdering me like that!”

You shake your head with a sigh, throwing your hands up in the air. A mushed pulp on the floor catches your attention and you immediately look up to glare daggers at Eddie. “You owe me a sandwich now!” 

“Forget about the sandwich!”

His hands grab you by the shoulders, causing you to yelp, and start pushing you toward the end of the hall. “You must meet the others! They’ll go mental over this! They didn’t believe me when I told them you listen to Def Leppard, they said I was full of shit, that I got tricked by a girl, those stupid bastards -”

“Hey, hey! Wait, stop-”

You press your feet hard against the floor to slow him down but to no avail. The odd looks thrown your way make you fold on yourself and you let Eddie drag you toward the cafeteria without any more resistance.

“Don’t worry, princess, they’re gonna like you! Well, they’re gonna grill you a bit first, I can’t lie. We’re all a bunch of losers with trust issues. You gotta be patient with us… but I’m sure you’ll get used to it pretty quickly and-”

He’s interrupted by the loud sound of the school bell signaling the end of the lunch break and you let out a deep sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding. Taking advantage of his temporary stupor, you slip out of his grasp and take a few steps backward to put some distance between you two.

He looks rather disappointed and he doesn’t hide it as he moves his gaze on you.

“I’m sorry but I have to run to class…”

“ But -”

You give him a quick salute with your hand, your heart in your throat, and turn on your heels, hurrying down the corridor before he can do anything to stop you. You can hear his booming voice calling after you:

“You won’t elude me next time princess !”

MORE STORIES 🥀

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[isa-beenme]

Moonlight

Chapter II: A Million Dreams

When Hybern falls, all of their prior experiments are free to take the world as they want, but for months no one hears anything coming from the castle. Until the massacre. Until the whole palace explodes. Their biggest weapon is out, and she only has one objective: get back to her sisters.

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of child abuse, mentions of experiments with human beings, mentions of child murder (please someone tell me if I forgot something)

I love this song so much it hurts

Imagine baby Azzie singing this in his tiny little cell dreaming about a mate that wouldn't be born until five hundred years later 😭😭😭😭

Than baby Aemma singing this in her tiny little cell without even knowing what a dream is 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I like to hurt myself apparently

I'll let you guys find the lyrics to rhe song in the middle of the chapter, good luck

I'm not sure if I like this tho, please leave a comment, I'm the happiest when someone sends something 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

The days seemed to pass slower than usual for Azriel. Over the past few years, he had grown accustomed to dealing with all the love and countless mating bonds snapping into place around him. It was becoming easier to stand at the edge of the room, unnoticed by everyone, the shadows hovering around his body helping him fade into the background.

He used to be better than that until the Archeron sisters officially became part of their lives. Feyre, ever the optimist, wanted everyone to be happy and together all the time. She was like a little ball of happiness, eager to spread it to everyone around her. For a good while, it worked.

Nesta, on the other hand, seemed to want everyone to be as miserable as she was. And somehow, Azriel understood her. For as long as he could remember, life had always seemed bleak. Even when others could move past their fears and problems, learning to accept themselves with all their mistakes, Azriel couldn’t. He hated himself because that was the only thing he had ever known how to do without error. Unlike him, Nesta actively tried to make everyone around her miserable as well, Azriel never had the courage to do that, though the thought crossed his mind more times than he cared to admit. But now, Nesta had found her mate, her self-love, her family, and her strength. Now, she fought for everyone to find their own happiness too.

And then, there was Elain. Sweet, delicate Elain. She wanted everyone to feel calm, to find their peace. She wanted to be his peace too, just as he had been hers in those early days, years ago, when she first arrived after being made fae. He used to dream of her face back then, though it was always blurred, as if something prevented him from seeing her clearly. He had thought she would be his mate, but Lucien was. He could feel it, damn, even smell the bond between them. And yet, something still pulled him to her. His mind? His heart? He wasn’t sure. But something. Azriel never told Rhysand about the pull he felt toward Elain. The fear of rejection and the disgust he imagined in his brother’s face every time Rhys caught him looking at Elain too long kept him silent.

Somehow, there were moments that was harder for him to remain invisible. Feyre tried to cheer him up, Nesta tried to make him feel worthy, and Elain tried to make him feel loved. But none of it worked. He laughed, he felt happy around his family - he loved them, for Cauldron's sake - but he was not happy. He didn’t feel like he deserved anything but sorrow and suffering, and he certainly didn’t deserve love, especially not from Elain. She loved the idea she had of him, but she didn’t know the real him, his shadows hid from her because she couldn’t associate him with them. She knew his pain and his sadness, but not his soul, not his heart or mind. And she never would, their pains were too different to understand one another fully.

That was why Azriel had spent the last four years running, like a stray animal. Missions and work filled his mind every waking hour, so there was no room left to think about anything else. He didn’t think about Feyre’s happiness if death consumed his days. He didn’t think about Nesta’s strength if only work filled his time. He didn’t think about Elain’s love if grief surrounded his heart. He didn’t think about the hatred he had for himself if the only thing on his mind was hatred for his enemies.

"You don’t need to do this, you know?" Rhysand said, entering the weapons room as Azriel filled every inch of his clothes with something sharp. "We can send another spy. Or Cassian. He could use something alive as a punching bag right now."

"No need. I’m going," Azriel replied quickly, wanting to end the interaction. His relationship with Rhysand had been strained ever since Rhys told him to stay away from Elain.

"Az, you’ve barely slept this past week. If the beast is too strong, you won’t win. You might get hurt," Rhysand pressed, watching Azriel bend down to lace his shoes. Azriel did his best to avoid this conversation, keeping his hands busy with the task "Are you even listening to me?"

"Loud and clear, Rhys," Azriel muttered, though his voice lacked emotion. "I just don’t want to talk. This is the last mission for now," He added, straightening. "I won’t do anything else until next week."

"You need to come back alive. Nyx can’t lose his favorite uncle," Rhysand said, his voice filled with both warning and concern.

"Don’t let Cassian hear that. He’ll be grumpy for a year." Azriel managed a small grin as Rhysand laughed and gripped his shoulder, offering what little reassurance he could. 

"I’ll come back," Azriel said quietly. "I always do."

"I know," Rhysand replied, stepping back. "Just… Feyre’s not sure you should hunt the beast right now. She has a bad feeling."

Azriel shook his head. "I won’t let that monster terrorize any more villages. It’s my job to keep them safe."

Rhysand nodded, giving him space to winnow. "It’s just a weird feeling. But I know you can do it."

With one last breath, Azriel let the shadows engulf him, the familiar sensation of folding time and space filling him as he disappeared, ready to begin his hunt.

In another place of the Court, one big group was finishing their journey, winnowing the last few travelers to safety. Each girl carried a small bag with something of importance -clothes, a weapon, or a cherished book. It didn’t matter what they carried, because within each item was a story, a piece of themselves they refused to leave behind. 

The border of the Night Court was calm. Their destination, a clearing nestled within a beautiful and dense forest, seemed almost serene. The warm climate in the open camp was tempered by the canopy of trees that surrounded them, creating a soft breeze that made the air feel comfortable and humid. It was enough. They knew the High Lord would sense any significant movement within his borders, but that was exactly what they were counting on - to be found, to offer their skills, and to ask for help. They needed the Night Court to know they were here.

One of the travelers, Aemma, still working as their leader, silently counted each girl as they arrived, ensuring all were well and strong enough to bring in more from the last group. There were only a few more left to transport, and they had been careful, winnowing in small batches to avoid sickness from the vast distances between the Spring and the Night Court.

Suddenly, the air around her seemed to shift. The usual noises of the forest - chirping insects, rustling leaves, the soft whispers of the girls - vanished, replaced by an unnatural silence that kept ringing in her ear. She straightened, senses immediately on alert, her eyes scanning the perimeter for the source of the disturbance. Her warriors noticed the change in her demeanor and quickly readied themselves, some shifting into defensive stances. But she didn’t focus on them, she saw further, beyond the trees.

Miles away, something dark and terrible was happening, breaking something inside of her that she couldn't quite place. Fear, blood, and despair wafted through the air, reaching her like a wave. Her pulse quickened. Something deep inside her stirred - an ancient, primal force that pulsed with urgency, demanding her attention. She didn’t need her weapons, this feeling, her power, was far stronger. It was the Enchantress within her, awakening, eager to take control. 

Without hesitation, she winnowed, her body folding through space, to the source of that bright, pulsing thread deep in her chest. The scene she arrived at was nothing short of brutal. A massive beast, bloodied and wild, was attacking a winged fae - a male, an Illyrian, judging by the distinctive wings. He was struggling, his movements slow and sloppy, as if exhaustion from the fight had drained his strength. His unfocused eyes betrayed his fatigue. He was fighting for his life, and he was losing. 

She felt the Enchantress surge, the hunger for death overtaking her. She let the magic flow through her veins, consuming every part of her being, until all she could feel was rage. The beast roared, claws tearing into the Illyrian’s flesh, but she hardly registered the sound. Her mind was focused solely on the thread, bright and blue, somehow binding her to this male, tugging at her heart with every beat.

Without a word, she stepped forward, her hand not reaching for any blade or power. She didn’t need them. The Enchantress would be enough.

The beast sensed her too late. In a blur of movement, she was on it, her body a whirlwind of lethal precision. She moved with an unnatural speed and grace, her fingers tearing into the creature's flesh with the force of her power. She didn’t hear the beast’s screams. She didn’t see the blood splatter across her skin. All she felt was that weird connection, that string pulling her closer to the Illyrian.

The beast was large, easily towering over her, its teeth gnashing and claws slashing wildly in a desperate attempt to shake her off. But she was relentless. She didn’t stop. Her every strike was calculated, lethal, the way her masters told her how to do it. The Enchantress within her roared with fury, and with every pulse of power, the beast weakened. It faltered, its roars turning into pained howls as her grip on it tightened.

The Illyrian was on the ground now, barely conscious, blood still pooling around him. His eyes fluttered closed briefly, but just in time to see her. But he didn’t have time to think. His vision blurred again as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

With one final, devastating blow, she brought the beast down. It collapsed, its massive body crashing into the earth with a sickening thud. She stood over its lifeless form, breathing heavily, her hands covered in its blood. The blue string in her chest pulsed, brighter than ever, tugging her toward the Illyrian.

Azriel had been stupid.

Stupid, senseless, reckless, stubborn - every adjective for foolishness could have described him at this moment. But admitting that now wouldn’t save his life. He might die if he didn’t fight back. He would die if he didn’t get help. Desperation clawed at him as he screamed internally for Rhysand, for Cassian, or even for Feyre to come. He screamed for anyone to hear him, anyone to help, but his mind couldn't focus as teeth and claws kept coming into his vision.

He shouldn’t have come. He should’ve let Cassian take his place. He should’ve slept more. He should’ve told everyone he loved them. Had he said it enough? No. It was never enough.

Memories flooded his mind. As a child, he used to dream so much. He would close his eyes to escape the darkness of his cell, dreaming of a world beyond the shadows. A world where the skies were clear, and freedom wasn’t just a distant wish. Every night, as he lay on the cold ground, he let those dreams fill his head - a million scenarios of what life could be if he were ever free. He dreamt of a life outside the darkness, a life where he wasn’t the forgotten bastard child locked away.

He used to dream of a girl. Her face was always blurred, her features indistinct, but he would tell his mother about her, imagining she would be the most beautiful female he’d ever meet. His mother would laugh, telling him to keep that dream alive, to find her one day when he was grown. It had taken him centuries to dream of her again.

When Azriel first saw Elain, he thought she was the one from his dreams. But her eyes weren’t the right color, nor was her hair, nor was the fierceness he had imagined in those indistinct features. She was close, yet not the same. But now, as he lay on the ground, his face smeared with blood and his chest burning from the wound that refused to heal, he wondered if he was dreaming again.

A blue light filled his vision as he watched a female - fierce, unrelenting - tear into the beast that had attacked him. It wasn’t clean or quick as she took her time, savoring the beast’s screams, making a mess of it on purpose. And yet, in that violence, in the blood and chaos, Azriel saw some kind beauty. This felt like one of the many dreams that had once kept him sane in the dark. The beast howled, its dying scream reverberating through the forest as the female wrenched its heart from its chest. 

Azriel's shadows danced around her, almost reverently, as if they too admired the raw brutality. His senses, dulled by pain and exhaustion, softly returned. His heartbeat steadied, and the fog around his mind slowly began to clear. The female stood over the beast’s lifeless body, her posture shifting, as though she had become someone else entirely. Slowly, she turned, and Azriel's breath hitched.

For a moment, all he could see was Elain. But this female’s eyes were different - sharper, fiercer - and her hair was of a darker brown, a few blue strings peeking out of her braid, but he thought he was imagining that. She looked like a vision, a memory brought to life.

"Are you alright, sir?" Her voice was firm but filled with concern as she approached. Azriel blinked, trying to shake the fog from his brain. But still, it was Elain’s face he saw. “Are you Azriel? Spymaster of this court?”

“Elain?” he whispered, his voice rough with pain and confusion. The female’s eyes widened in surprise, and she knelt before him, the scent of coffee and wood flooding his senses. It was unlike Elain’s scent of jasmine and honey - this scent was stronger, fiercer, like the female before him.

“You know her? Is she here? Can you take me to her?” There was desperation in her voice, her blue eyes darting between Azriel and his surroundings. He realized then, she wasn’t Elain. Not quite. “Sir? Do you think you need a healer?”

Azriel shook his head, though his body still ached. “No, I just need time,” he replied, taking the hand she offered as he struggled to his feet. “Who are you?”

The female’s eyes narrowed slightly. “First, I need to know who you are,” she said, her tone sharp but not unkind. “I just saved your life. I think I deserve that.”

“I’m Azriel, spymaster of the Night Court, as you guessed,” he said, his wound now almost closed. But he didn’t release her hand. “And you?” She hesitated, glancing toward his shadows and the darkened forest. Her earlier confidence faltered for a moment before she spoke. “You asked if I knew Elain Archeron, I do. She is my High Lady’s sister - Feyre’s sister. They’re under my protection. Now, who are you?”

At the mention of Feyre, the female’s eyes filled with sudden emotion. “High Lady’s sister?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You mean… High Lady Feyre?” 

Azriel nodded, watching as the female’s expression shifted, tears welling up in her eyes. She stepped back, releasing his hand. He could see the weight of whatever news she carried in the way her posture stiffened. His shadows shifted curiously, as if sensing something important in her.

“Tell me your name. Do you need help?” Azriel pressed, noticing the way her composure wavered. As if something inside her had cracked.

“My name is Aemma Archeron,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I am Elain Archeron’s twin sister. My grandmother sold me to Hybern years ago to test me with the Cauldron.” Her voice cracked as she continued. “I was one of the few survivors. I’ve been leading a group, nearly a hundred and fifty other females, all survivors of Hybern's slavery, and we’re trying to find a place in the Night Court. If you could… if you could help us, if you could speak to your High Lord, your High Lady... my sister.” She said the last word as if unsure, as if the connection was too fragile to believe.

Azriel’s mind reeled, trying to process what she had just revealed. Aemma Archeron. Elain’s twin sister. Sold to Hybern. Tested by the Cauldron. He could hardly believe it, but the truth of her words rang in the connection he shared with his shadows.

“I think I could use some help, yes,” Aemma said softly, the weight of her story settling between them.

Without wasting a second, Azriel sent a silent, urgent message through the mental bond to Rhysand, telling him everything he had just learned.

"Aemma," he repeated softly, as if testing the name in his mouth, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. "I... I need to get you to Rhysand and Feyre. You and the others."

Aemma nodded, her hands trembling slightly despite her strong demeanor. She still wasn't entirely sure if she could trust him, but she had no other choice. She never had, she felt like. “Yes, please.”

[deeply-concerned]

My own head canon for Lucio's Reverse end. Pre!revival MC died in pain and anguish, burning alive while watching the people they cared about (others people of Vesuvia) succumbed to the same fate. They habour a deep hatred for Lucio even at their last dying breath.

When Arsa revived them their soul become a blank state but the memories and resentment still there, just sealed away deeply.

Near the end of Lucio's route, that memories returned along with the feelings by the Devil in the middle of the fight. Now MC is torn between two extremes. They had fallen in love with Lucio but at the same time, the searing hatred burning up their insides resurfaced and it urged them to take revenge, to kill Lucio. They wanted to do it. They wanted to kill Lucio, made him paid for the suffering that he had cause but the other side of them, the side that love him made them faltered.

Lucio saw the memories as well. Saw and felt it, as if he was the one who tossed MC's body, weaken but still breathing down to the fiery pit inside Lazarus himself.

The Devil's plan work. Lucio crumbled down in regret and despair, horrified by what he had done to MC. Now he truly felt the heavy weights of his sins but he couldn't mutter even a single apologies to MC. For what good would words be against such a devastated suffering like that.

With the stake of the world laid heavily on they shoulder, MC bit down their resentment and torn feelings. They accepted the deal with the major Arcane's to defeat the Devil, knowing it would cost them they live but they accepted it because they couldn't bear to kill Lucio but also couldn't bear to love him again. They wanted to save their friend, to save the realms so they willingly paid whatever cost it took.

But the Devil will never be truly gone. When the Devil is defeated, he chose Lucio as the next vessel for his heart. Lucio was possessed and became the Devil, power and eternity flowed through him, life and death all succumbed under his fingertips.

Yet with everything he ever wanted, with all the power in the world ... it all meant nothing when he held MC's still body inside his arm and weep.

To revive a major Arcana cost more than revive a human . It would cost Lucio everything. His power, his self, his life. Everything he had fight for throughout all his miserable life, causing endless suffering just because he didn't want to die... was now all given away willingly for MC. So he battled against the Devil's hold on him, tore his heart out to revive MC and sacrificed his life in the process.

MC was startle awaked in Lucio's embrace, ancient power churning, vibrating under the skin of their new form yet it didn't even register to them as they look up and see Lucio's thrilled face. He looked so happy, so full of hope with tears streaming down as he peppered kisses all over their face. Between breathless laugh and broken sobs, he whispers "thank you, thank you" and "I'm sorry" so many time the MC had lost count.

Still torn by the mixed feelings between love and hatred, delirious by the new found power pumping through their veins MC wanted to pulled away from Lucio only to discover he had started leaning heavily on them. He still laughed, he still cried but it started to became slower, sluggish with each passing seconds. Lucio's eyes never leave theirs as he finally struggled to said:

"I will forever love you..."

before he slumped over completely into MC arms.

Quiet, unresponsive and serene, all the thing the man never was when he was still alive. Numbly, MC clutched at the man's shirt tighter in instinct, their lips quivering, shaping his name but never made it into sound.

The silent seemed to stretched forever inside the palace, before a devastated scream broke out and scorching the realms into flame.

______ Some times later _____

The sun shined warmly on his back as Lucio combed the falling locks of hair back with his spare hand as the other were holding onto his catches of the day. Always had to look his best, even after he had trek through the forest for nearly half of the day is an ideal he kept instilled in himself even if he didn't know why.

Past through the forest tree line, a large beautiful manor emerged in the distant. Lucio smiled fondly as he remembered how he kept insisted it looked more like a small palace as a jab, much to its owner dismay. Even after all this time, he still didn't understand why they don't want to live a  more lavishly lifestyles in a robust city that more suitable with their sovereign position.

But hey, Lucio wasn't going to complain when he catched a familiar figure standing in the front gate and waving to him. He quickly crossed the rye field and headed to the gate with Mercedes and Melchior trotted playfully next to him.

"You don't have to come out and wait for me." Was what Lucio said but the happiness in his voice betrayed his true thoughts. The other just hummed and give him a chaste kiss.

"Welcome back. I'm just curious about what you had hunted today?" Although they eyes had never leave his as they touched his chest.

Lucio laughed and gave the servants his catches. Only a young boar today and a few pheasant, not like the elk they had feasted on last week but Lucio knew they never did truly cared about that. "Just admit that you missed me."

"Maybe a little." They smiled as their hand wandered up past the collarbone to trace under Lucio's jaw tenderly. The corner of the smile never reached their eyes but it squinted up anyway, making their empty facade seemed warmer.

"You smelled." Their nose crinkled a bit, which Lucio found absolute adorable. " Let take a bath."

"With you, always." Lucio laughed and discarded the dirty outer robe before embrace them fully. He missed them too and even though he knew they didn't fully mind, he still noticed they liked to eat fresh games better so he had made it a habit to personally go out hunting time after time. It the least he could do for his lover even if he didn't enjoy hunting much. He surprisingly good at it anyway, like a second nature. He still couldn't remember much about his past but hey, it is nice that he could fulfill his love's appetite.

Hand in hand, Lucio walked inside the manor gate with them. They smiled back. Their hand clutched at his tightly, claws finger protruding out instinctively but never enough to hurt him.