#it's why she KNOWS that she needs to get warm in order to heal

[caitlynmeow]

"What? My body...It's breaking!"

I'm willing to bet you REAL money Bela listened to Alcina's warnings (like a good obedient daughter) and avoided the cold just like her mother said. When she said this line she was genuinely confused and scared at what was happening to her body which tells you that for almost a hundred years she never put herself in any situation where she was exposed to the cold because this is legitimately her first time seeing the cold's effect on her.

Cassandra, on the other hand, did say "I have to get warm" which means that she knows what's happening probably because this is not her first time dealing with the cold and its effect on her (it is probably a mix of rebelling against her mother's rules and finding out the hard way what the cold does to their bodies and also because of some maids' assassination attempts because they always want to start with the most dangerous sister thinking it's actually doable). Anyway, as I was saying, Cassandra wasn't surprised at her body's reaction to the cold because she's been there before and she was kinda used to it but Bela was dealing with it for the first time in her life and she was genuinely scared/surprised at what's happening.

[milky-aeons]

— REASON LIVING

౨ৎ . . . in which a man with no reason to live finds an unlikely one through the tribulations of being a father.

warnings: emotional dysregulation, slight angst, unplanned pregnancy, alcohol consumption, poor parenting (in the beginning), conflict, suicidal ideation, depression, depictions of birth, female reader, healing, w.c 2.4k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ dancing on my own — vitamin string quartet ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who wasn't ready to be a mother. Not now, perhaps not ever — was a rule you had laid in stone for yourself as a free-spirit intent on enjoying life to its fullest. It was why the world had tuned out into white noise when Yosano Akiko held the small test in her hand and spoke those terrifying words. With a shutter of sympathy in her eyes, coming to place a hand on your shoulder to give it a firm, comforting squeeze. She knew just as well how much you didn't want this to be true. Her touch felt condemning. You felt like you were going to vomit, just like you had been for the last four mornings in a row. Because how were you going to tell him?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who didn't blink, didn't draw breath, didn't do anything when you let the words stumble from your mouth in one panicked rush. It was a bright afternoon deep into summer and the Agency's café was quiet — private enough for the two of you to have this conversation. You and Dazai Osamu — you were not an item, had been content to have casual shared nights together when either of you wanted to blow off a little steam. But that night, you had said to him, do you remember that night? When we were both drunk and stupid, so stupid?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who, in that moment, decided not to grace you with any words. Instead, he did something far more uncharacteristic of him; he stayed quiet. He gave one shallow nod of his head and placed a hand softly onto the table so he could stand up. To steady himself, to ground himself back down when you had turned his world completely overhead, you did not know. And Dazai, who left you there, excusing himself in order to get some fresh air. The raking bastard that he was. Not once did he turn back to look you directly in the eye. Not even when you stood up, shouted his name, screamed at him, until tears spilled over your cheeks and your throat burned with the pain.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who saw life through a lens of grey in the couple of days following. Sometimes, you would feel so heavy that you did not wish to rise out of bed. The word swam around in your head like the song of a haunting ghoul — a mom, a mom, I am going to be a mom. Yosano would drop by your Agency apartment after work to see how you were doing, feeling your forehead, bringing you remedies to help with the nausea that roiled in your stomach. Every time, you would resist the temptation to ask where he was. And yet every time, Yosano would still tell you;

"He didn't come to work today, either."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who slowly came to grips with the fact that this was how it was going to be. The initial shock of it all was as relentless as it was condemning, but it was not infinite. The sun rose the next day, and the next, the world kept moving and you decided that you would have to, as well. That there was a little life growing inside your warm belly that needed a mother, no matter how unprepared you were for that fact. And, if you could do something about it, needed their father. You were not letting him just walk away from you, from the both of you, that easily.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who was exactly where you thought he would be when you set out that evening to find him. Of course, if he wanted to, Dazai Osamu had both the cleverness and the connections to absolutely disappear from the streets of Yokohama without a trace. If he wanted to, he could have abandoned you and this baby completely. But he didn't. Instead, he was here, laying sprawled long and lazy on his messy, unmade futon in his messy, unclean house, as if waiting to be found. When he heard you pass over the threshold of the door he didn't lock, he gave you a long, languid smile.

"My bewitching Beeella~! At looong last, she has come to tempt me!" He slurred his speech, bringing your attention to the heavy scent in the air and the dozen or so bottles strewn about haphazardly. His hair was matted and unwashed. He looked just like you, curled in your bed, refusing to move for days. But unlike you, he was completely and utterly intoxicated. "You look awful." You said in a low voice. Hurt at how he abandoned you in the coffee shop was still a fresh, gaping wound. As if his head was too heavy, Dazai let it flop back down onto the cushions. He waved his hands about. "And you... look just as beautiful... as always. But—It is a trap...! A ruuuuse! A beautiful Bellaaa, sent from my torment... to tie me to this mortal coil!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who let him ramble his litany of incoherencies. If only for a few merciful seconds. When you felt like you had had enough, or perhaps fearful with how far he'd take it, you kicked one of the empty glass bottles. It skirted across his floorboards and hit a neighbouring wall, exploding into countless little shards. He looked up then, attracted to the noise, trying to focus on you with his glazed whiskey-coloured eyes. In that moment, you stood your tallest, and just like the bottle you mustered up every last shred of yourself until you built it all back together.

"You." You pointed at him, feeling your voice come on thick, but strong. "You listen to me and listen to me well, I'm only going to say this once, and if you're too fucking drunk to remember it, then more is the pity. But I'm carrying your baby—our god damn baby. And if you're not going to step up and be the father they're going to need, then I'll be that for you. Just say the word, Dazai. Say the word and I'll leave. You'll never hear from me or this child ever again."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who said nothing in contest to that statement, but also said nothing to affirm it, either. His wide, unfocused eyes studied every feature on your face, trying to make sense of something you didn't know. And for a second, your heartrate kicked up. Because somewhere deep down inside, you wanted him to tell you to stay. You wanted him to sober up, to wear that charming, all-endearing smile and convince you that everything was going to be alright. But he didn't. And that was the moment you deflated with a sigh — laying out all the feelings you once had for him on the floor, ready to cast it to the wind. You had made it to his doorway when two strong, heavy arms came around you and all of his weight collapsed against your shoulders.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who buried his head into the crook of your neck, who's hair tickled your face and made your eyes sting with tears. He, who smelled of whiskey and liqueur, but in that moment, held you so tight, crushed you against his taller frame and croaked;

"Stay."

"Please... just, stay."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who seemed like he had undergone a transformation overnight. He always did have a strange knack for that — changing his persona so easily, crafting masks and façades. And maybe it was just that, at least in the beginning. But he had started to come back to work, again. You would enter the familiar doors early in the mornings to the tell-tale sounds of his teasing tone and Kunikida's threats. When you would walk in, he'd straighten up from whatever headlock the blond had trapped him into, and catch your eye.

"Good morning." You would whisper. "Good morning, beautiful Bella." He would murmur right back.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who became used to the weight in your tummy growing heavier each day. It was Atsushi, at first, who recognised the shift in your scent and the sound of a little heartbeat in your belly through his superior feline hearing. Soon after, everyone in the Agency were offering you gifts and well wishes. Dazai received a less warm ovation. Especially from Kunikida, who threatened to flush him into the drainage system if he even thought about being one of those shitty laid-back dads who let the mom do all the work.

"That's cruel, Kunikida-kun!" Dazai whined at him. "To think of the rigid, torturous lifestyle your children will have to endure!" He just barely dodged the office chair that was hurled at his head.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who, after a short while, began to let Dazai close to you again. And maybe it was foolish of you, to let that thing which always existed between you two take spark and kindle with new life. First, it was sitting together in the same booth in the coffee shop. Then, it was gentle, quiet touches — his hand brushing your back as he walked past, your fingers twining together underneath the desk where no one could see. He stole you away for long walks in the nearby park when you should have been working. To your protests, he'd pout, and say, but a pregnant lady needs to enjoy as much rest as she can~! And then, he'd kiss you. Underneath the great spurting fountain at the centre of the park. Long and sweet and promising.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who one time, when you were especially close to your due date and he was feeling especially silly, drew a large smiley face on your swollen belly. Or peppered a shower of kisses along the stretched skin, telling you she was taking too long, that he couldn't wait any longer and had too many kisses saved up for her, already. And on that day where you did go into labour, he held your hand, he placed those lips on your forehead and whispered gentle encouragements as you screamed through the pain.

"You are strong, my beautiful [Name]. Come on, can you give one more push? Just one more." "You're doing so great. You are so unbelievable, so resilient and brave. My beautiful Belladonna, that's it. You can do it."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who, along with the chorus of elated cries from the Armed Detective Agents, made a sound of disbelief when his baby girl came into the world. Slick and wet, red and crying, but beautiful. A copy of her mother's features but with a wild head of curly brown hair. An emotion Dazai had not felt in an extremely long time crept up the back of his throat. It made him laugh, it made his eyes smart with tears. And when he came to your side to see your baby be placed onto your bare chest, a single tear escaped from the side of his eye and got lost when he buried his head into your hair.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who never thought he would ever grow attached to someone. There was you, of course, but if he sat with the discomfort of viewing his life without you in it, it could be done. But trying to see his life without her — his little baby girl — his mind would simply draw a blank. It was unbearable, impossible. Before long, Dazai had insisted you move into his apartment so he could be closer to you. After, of course, you threatened him to scrub the entire place from head-to-toe and remove anything non-child friendly in a black plastic bag. And he did. He used those nimble, clever hands to build the baby a little wooden crib. He would rock her to sleep and place her down, only to watch her for minutes, hours, contemplating how in the world he was ever bestowed with such a blessing.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who sang lullabies to her. Who sang at every given chance he had. For he was such a lovely singer, his soft, velvety voice would be a common thing amongst the walls of your little apartment. Who would sit down with the toddler and teach her all the words he knew.

"Can you say 'Kunikida' my little star?" "Kuni—Kuni—Kooni—!" "Kun—ee—kee—dah!" On the 'dah', he'd pinch her nose. "Kun—eeeee—keeeee—dah!" "Wow~!" Dazai pinched her nose again and she giggled. "Darling, did you hear that? Our little star is a genius." "She takes after her father." You would say from around the bend of the kitchen. Praises and chuckles and the shrieks of a delighted baby would fill the air. Dazai would then drop his voice, thinking you wouldn't hear, and say, "Now, can you say, 'is a bore!'" "Dazai!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who always took his little girl to work with him. Everyone in the Agency fell in love with her very quickly. Atsushi would transform his hands into that of giant tiger paws, pretending to growl, letting her pull at the little tufts even though it hurt him just a tad. Ranpo would ask the little baby mind-numbing riddles, then laugh, proclaiming how she barely had any braincells, but not to worry, because when she's old enough, he'd take her as his apprentice. Kunikida, who would let her handle his little ideal book, and then hold back tears when she ripped one of the pages out of it. The little girl would hold the page up high and from her little perch on the table, shout,

"Kuneeekeeda... is... a boooore!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who was still laughing when he met you on the terrace roof of the Agency that night. He went straight for his little girl and held her up in the air, proclaiming that he was so proud of her. You would settle down together, just the three of you, huddled on the concrete tiles and watching the sun set over the skyline of Yokohama.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would hold your daughter on your lap until her curly brown head of hair tilted into your shoulder and she snored softly. In that moment, you would crane your head onto Dazai's broad shoulder, and whisper;

"I'm glad I stayed."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who would run his long fingers across his sleeping daughter's face softly, so softly, so as not to wake her. Then, he would reach up to you and cup the side of your cheek, captivating you, looking at you with an expression so warm and tender as he whispered right back;

"And I am forever grateful."

requested by the lovely @ringsofsaturnnnn!

[srvbryn]

I can request that luke x reader end up on a mission where consecutively luke is jealous of the guy they are on the mission with but after all they face they make it through together.

Luke Castellan. Jealous

Luke Castellan X Hebe!Daughter!Reader

Summary: WHAT THE REQUEST SAID PERIOD!! 🤭🤭

Warning: insecure Luke + Sassy Luke (it's not that bad I promise), kiss scene is oddly specific

738 words 😋

A/n: HAIAI for the one that requests this - i'm not sure whether you want Dark!Luke or just Luke SO I hope you enjoy reading this! 🎀 I hope the scene adds the jealousy touch you were looking for 😭😭

As Ares sent Tom, his newly claimed son, on a quest, he surprisingly included both you and Luke.

Tensions ran high, especially when Tom, seemingly oblivious to the atmosphere, went out of his way to gain your attention.

Luke's subtle glares and tightened jawlines, and Tom, enjoying the tension he created, sported a cocky smirk.

During one skirmish, Tom took an unnecessary risk, earning a wound that you promptly tended to with nectar. Luke's eyes narrowed as he watched you care for Tom, his possessive instincts kicking in. "You're not the only one who knows how to patch up injuries," Luke muttered under his breath, his competitive spirit burning.

As the quest continued, Luke attempts to win back your attention became more apparent.

All while subtly keeping an eye on your reactions. Insecurities lingered beneath his confident exterior, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Tom's antics were slowly chipping away at your focus.

One evening, around the campfire, tensions reached their peak. Tom, in a moment of bravado, tried to impress you with a flashy display of swordplay.

Luke, unable to contain his frustration, interrupted, "Enough showing off. We're here for a quest, not a theatrical performance."

The exchange escalated into a heated argument, with Tom challenging Luke to prove himself worthy.

In the aftermath, Luke's insecurities remained, but he found a safe place within your arms - especially when you slept with your head on his shoulder.

The quest led you through treacherous terrain. Tom's eagerness to impress became more pronounced with each passing day, drawing amusement from you and aggravation from Luke.

On the second day, as you and Luke set up camp, Tom, nursing a minor injury, couldn't resist an opportunity for an ounce of your attention. "Hey, (Name), think you could patch me up? Your healing touch works wonders," he grinned, casting a challenging glance at Luke.

Luke, retorted, "Don't you have some divine healing powers, Montgomery? Or is that too much effort for the god of war's son?"

You sigh, handing Tom a spoonful of nectar. "Save the bickering for the monsters. We're here for a reason."

The next day, during a battle with harpies, Tom took an unnecessary risk in order to demonstrate his combat abilities. Luke being Luke of course he noticed the danger unfold. "Watch your back, Montgomery!" he exclaimed.

He couldn't help but mutter, "Trying to impress someone, Tom?"

Tom smirked, "Why, jealous, Castellan?"

You interrupt them with a sigh. "Enough of this. We need to focus on the quest, not on each other."

In the quiet moments, Luke's insecurities surfaced. That night, as the three of you sat around the campfire, Luke glared at Tom, "I'm not used to sharing the spotlight, especially when you're trying so hard to win my girlfriend's attention."

Tom, surprisingly, replied, "I get it, man. But she's not a prize to be won."

"Yeah well she's my girlfriend so please back off" Luke scoffed.

It was the final day, which is finally the time for the three of you to go back to the camp.

As the quest concluded with triumph, the adrenaline still coursed through your veins. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the landscape. The trio stood victorious, catching their breaths.

As you began to share congratulatory words with Tom, Luke's hand subtly found its way to yours.

With a gentle tug, Luke pulled you away from the group, guiding you toward the edge of the forest.

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension from the quest. Once beneath the canopy of trees, Luke stopped, his eyes searching yours.

"Sweet," he began, his voice low and intense. "I couldn't stand watching Tom try to steal your attention during this quest. It drove me insane."

Before you could respond, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss and the realization of how much he valued you.

The forest around you seemed to hold its breath as the kiss deepened, expressing the intensity of the emotions both of you had kept hidden.

When he finally pulled away, Luke's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of possessiveness and vulnerability. "I don't want to share you with anyone. You're mine, (Name)."

The words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of his emotions. As you reassured him by tilting your head forward and putting your soft lips on his. His lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside.

"I love kissing you, y'know that?" Luke murmur.

[coldherxriah]

BEAUTIFUL SMILE, jiyan

TW: injuries, spoilers for Jiyan's past before he was a general

It was no surprise to the inhabitants of Jinzhou that General Jiyan had once been a field medic. But what few knew was that long before becoming a general, Jiyan had shared a special bond with the young disciple of the right-hand man of the General of Jizhou, a girl named (name).

Jiyan had been just ten years old when he started helping his mother heal wounded soldiers. Their destinies crossed unexpectedly one day when, while bringing medicine and some bandages to his mother, he stumbled upon a scene he would never forget: a girl with h/c hair and e/c eyes being severely reprimanded by her master.

Jiyan found himself caught in the middle of the dispute. The general’s right-hand man, after observing him for a moment, ordered authoritatively, "Attend to her, boy." The girl, who seemed to be his age, looked at him with a mix of frustration and expectation. As their eyes met, Jiyan couldn’t help but think she was incredibly beautiful.

“Are you just going to stand there with that dumb look on your face or are you going to help me?” the girl snapped, pulling Jiyan out of his daze. Still overwhelmed by her presence, he glanced down at the rolls of bandages in his hand.

“Sorry,” he murmured, barely audible to the girl. She frowned and impatiently extended her hand.

"I don't care… just help me with my hand," she said, her tone more commanding than pleading.

Jiyan swallowed and approached carefully. He took her hand and began to bandage it skillfully and gently, thanks to the experience he had gained alongside his mother. As his hands worked, he felt the warmth of (name)’s skin, and his breathing grew heavier.

“How did you get this?” he asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Practicing,” she replied curtly. “The master says I need to perfect my technique.”

Jiyan nodded, focused on his task. When he finished, he looked up and met (name)’s eyes, shining with a mix of curiosity.

“Thank you,” she said, her tone softening a bit. “I’m (name).”

“I… I’m Jiyan,” he responded, feeling his face flush slightly.

That was the first of many interactions between them. Whenever (name) got injured, it was Jiyan who tended to her. Although at first he did it out of duty, he soon began to sincerely worry about the young sword master’s recklessness.

To Jiyan, it was evident that (name) did not take necessary precautions during her training. Every time she came to him with minor injuries, like a scratch or dirty bandages, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of frustration and concern.

One day, while bandaging a particularly deep wound on (name)’s arm, Jiyan could no longer contain his thoughts.

“Why are you so reckless?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

(name) looked at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“You’re always getting hurt,” Jiyan said, his hands trembling slightly as he tied the bandage. “I worry about you.”

A flash of surprise and something warmer passed through (name)’s eyes. “Jiyan… you don’t have to worry so much. I’m stronger than I look.”

“I know,” he murmured, unable to help a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean i don’t care.”

The e/c eyes gazed curiously into Jiyan’s golden eyes as he continued to look at her. Her lips formed a thin line before she smiled.

“You know, your eyes are very pretty. It’s like your eyes are pure gold,” she commented.

That made Jiyan open and close his mouth for a few moments, processing what she said. There it was, that warm feeling in his chest and the slight warmth in his cheeks.

“Thank you… (name),” he finally responded, his voice barely a whisper.

(name)’s smile widened.

“You should smile more often,” she said softly, removing her hand from Jiyan’s forehead. “You look good when you smile.”

Jiyan blushed even more but couldn’t help but smile back.

[iamthat-iam]

"Ego", The Final Boss

Olivia (she prefers to be called Liv) has been on quite the spiritual journey for a couple of years. She was born and raised Catholic, then as a teen she decided to leave the church because it didn't resonate with her. She went through a law of attraction phase, followed by law of assumption, and finally, she found non dualism from a few Twitter and Tumblr accounts.

The message, from what she gathered, was that she needed to fully drop the ego in order to realize her true self/true nature and to experience whatever she wanted. She even read a few books where realized masters have spoken about their own personal journeys of dropping ego and how life is generally more peaceful for them now that they've done so.

Now, Liv is one with a troubled past. She would give anything to become an entirely different person with no childhood trauma, and just a happy life all around. She meditated every single day, practiced "sitting in silence", and tried her hardest to detach from her "ego."

She stopped enjoying her usual hobbies out of fear of identifying too much with the character. She would go out of her way to correct thoughts that she felt were "too related to being the person." Needless to say, her mental health began to go downhill very fast.

One of her best friends, Marcus, decided to check up on her one day through face-time. "Hey sis! How have you been?! Haven't seen you in a while."

"Hey..." Liv answered. "I'm not doing all that great to be honest."

"Yeah I figured that. That's why I reached out to you," Marcus stated. "I'm worried about you. It seems like you barely leave the house. Everytime myself or anyone else tries to make plans with you, you either cancel last minute or come up with some bogus excuse as to why you can't come out."

Liv had to laugh because everything he said was true. "So I'm guessing you didn't believe the story about my pet rabbit dying."

Marcus cackled. "GIRL. I've known you for years and not once have you ever had a pet rabbit. Stop playing."

"Okay let me tell you what's really going on with me," Liv began, "So a few months ago I found this 'spiritual practice' called Non Dualism, and the premise of it is you need to 'let go of ego' in order to realize your true nature as God, or Awareness, whatever you want to call it. Also you get to experience whatever you want."

"So this is the reason why you've stopped enjoying your usual hobbies, and why you've stopped having a social life?" Marcus inquired. "I'm going to be honest here. As your friend, I feel like I owe it to you to tell you the Truth even if it isn't what you want to hear. I don't think that this 'practice' has helped you one bit. Either you have misinterpreted the message, or these people are spreading misinformation. Never at any point should you sacrifice your mental health for the sake of 'becoming enlightened.'"

"I don't know what else to do," Liv started to cry a little. "I just want to become a different person living a life full of happiness, one without trauma and constant reminders of my horrible past. I hate being this broken person!"

"It's okay hun, I totally understand," Marcus consoled her. "I can help you. You remember my family guru right? She hates being called that, but I don't know how else to refer to her. Her name is Sage. My family has gone to her for spiritual advice and healing for years."

"Yes, I remember her! Didn't she help your mom heal her lower back pain?" Liv asked excitedly.

"She sure did. I can give you her number if you want!"

After Liv ended her face-time call with Marcus, he gave her Sage's number. She immediately reached out to her to schedule a day where they can meet up.

- -

One day, Liv arrived at a beautiful park to discover Sage already sitting on one of the benches waiting. "Hi! I don't know if you remember me, I'm Marcus' friend Liv."

"Yes! Hi Liv, it's nice to see you again," Sage reached out and gave Liv a warm hug. "Now what can I help you with?"

Liv sat down next to Sage. "Well, I discovered Non dualism a few months ago, and I'm not sure if I misunderstood the message or not, but I thought you had to let go of ego in order to realize your true nature as awareness. And after you realize this, you can experience whatever you want. So long story short, I stopped enjoying life because I thought I had to do that in order to be enlightened."

Sage hesitated for a moment, and then smiled. "Think about it this way.. if it's true that our true nature is awareness, or God, whatever label you put on it, why would you have to go through these unnecessary steps in order to 'become' it? If that's what you already are in the first place?"

Liv opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Maybe Sage had a point.

"Here are my thoughts. If anyone is telling you to 'drop the ego', it's bullshit," Sage chuckled. "The point of Non Dualism is realizing that you were always awareness. You were always the awareness behind everything that seems to appear. The ever-stretching, limitless silence that can take on the form of anything. The ego is just a thought. The idea that you are not already fully realized is also just a thought. In reality, there's no ego or person here to let go of. No person here who needs to become 'fully realized.' Just drop the idea that you are a limited human that has to become something, and you'll be golden."

Liv's jaw dropped to the ground. "You're telling me it was THAT SIMPLE THIS ENTIRE TIME?"

Sage laughed heartily. "Yes it is. Why do you think it took masters like Lester or Sri Nisgardatta months or YEARS to 'realize Self?' because they spent so much time trying to get rid of an ego that doesn't exist!"

Liv let out a sigh of relief. "So there really is nothing to do. I can't believe I exerted all that effort for nothing. I do have one more question, how can I experience whatever I want knowing I'm awareness? I want to be a completely different person with a different past."

"The person you think you are now, and the one you want to be are both illusions. You, as awareness, can 'choose' either one like a costume. Everytime you think about this ideal version of you, you've already experienced it," Sage grinned.

Suddenly a wave of emotions flooded through Liv, a mixture of relief and happiness. She felt the urge to give Sage a tight hug. "Thank you so much for helping me today."

"You're so welcome, sweetie."

Good for Liv, she has finally accepted her omnipotence and freedom to experience anything!

[buckysbabygorl]

Notice (Part 5)

Summary: Steve storms out of Tony’s lab, searching for Y/N, hoping it isn’t too late to fix things.

Warnings: mental health issues, mentions of violence (previous battles), smoking

Part 4

Series Masterlist

~

Summer was gone; Y/N could feel it in the night air.

The cold wind rippled off the lake, she warmed herself by lighting another cigarette. A terrible vice of hers, one of many.

But she’d been good, hadn’t had one for 8 months.

One last dart before leaving couldn’t hurt, a symbol of saying goodbye.

She could hear Wanda’s voice echoing in her head, that she deserved to be here.

It wasn’t easy to believe.

Over, and over, and over again she pushed herself to her limit. Yet it never felt like enough.

She had watched each team member sacrifice themselves in dire circumstances for the rest of them, but when it was her, it seemed to be a fault.

It wasn’t fair.

But she was tired of arguing, tired of defending herself, tired of being tired.

She didn’t know what more she could do at this point, and though the team said it was temporary until she improved, she knew her time here was at its end.

So yeah, one more cigarette couldn’t hurt.

The crunch of stones surprised her.

Looking over her shoulder, she felt angry all over again.

“Y/N—”

“Don’t.”

Steve didn’t falter, ignoring her as she continued.

“I don’t want to hear it Rogers, whatever the fuck it is—just leave me alone.”

He reached forward and pulled the cigarette from her mouth.

“You’ve been off them for months.”

“Like you give a shit.”

He sighed, eyes running over her figure.

Her eyes were still bruised, she still carried her weight and favoured her good side… she wasn’t healing well.

“Come inside.”

“No.”

He tried to step closer but she pulled away.

“Fuck off, I’m serious.”

“I don’t want to fight right now. Just come inside.”

Y/N laughed, hollow and snide.

“Really? Now you don’t want to fight?”

She pulled tighter at the blanket around her shoulders, shielding her bare skin from the wind.

“You kick me off the team, you go behind my back to convince everyone else, going so far as to tell them about—”

She stopped herself, the feeling of betrayal seeping into her throat. She could barely say it.

Why had that night been so important? Why did it hurt so much?

“I’m not taking anymore orders from you, in fact I won’t take anything from you. It’s worth nothing.”

Steve bit his lip, this couldn’t be how it ended. He wouldn’t let it.

“You’re trying to hurt me. I get that, but I don’t care.”

She scoffed, “Yeah, you wouldn’t care. You never gave a shit to begin with.”

Steve sucked in a breath. How dare she… after everything he watched her put herself through, after every argument they had…

“I care.”

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.

“No, you don’t.”

She turned to face the lake, unable to look him in the eye.

“Don’t.” He turned her to face to him. Hands wrapped around her arms, teeth gritted, eyes fierce.

“You don’t get to shut me out anymore. Not after what you did, you don’t get to tell me I don’t care.”

She shoved him off, hitting him in the chest.

“What I did? I saved you.”

She continued to badger his chest, her blanket tossed to the ground as she pushed him.

“You don’t get to punish me because I tried.”

He grabbed her wrists and held them down.

She wriggled against his hold, but he kept her close to him.

There was no walking away this time, he needed to make sure she heard him.

He needed her to realize.

“You nearly killed yourself, Y/N.”

His voice nearly a scream, he pulled her into him.

He pleaded with his eyes, begging her to listen.

“Every fucking time you go out there, you almost die. You get shot, you get stabbed, you take on 25 assailants by yourself with limited ammo. I thought I was going to lose you, do you understand?”

She stopped fighting, ignoring the chill of the air as she stared at him.

His skin was on fire, hands strong and begging her to stop.

“Your life is not worth less than the rest of ours. You need to stop doing this to yourself, to the team…”

His breath stifled and she watched as his face fell, eyes welling with tears.

“You don’t get to tell me I don’t care.”

His fingers wove between hers, clutching desperately to her. It felt like she’d slip away in a second, like he was keeping her to the ground with his strength only.

“Y/N, I can’t lose you.”

She couldn’t breathe, her chest growing tight and vision blurry.

She couldn’t let him see her cry, she couldn’t do this…

“Please Y/N, for the love of god, stop and think for a minute.”

She shook her head, dropping his hands.

“I don’t need this, I’m leaving in a few hours. This will all be over with.”

“Don’t you get it? We don’t want you to leave. We need you to come back. But we can’t have you here if you don’t change.”

She held back a sob, this was too overwhelming. She didn’t think she’d have to face him again, it was so much easier to hate him. To be spiteful, and angry.

But she couldn’t handle this; the pain she felt… and now the pain she was causing him.

“I don’t know how else to be, Steve.”

Her head fell in shame, tears rushing down her face.

“I want to be strong, I want to be invincible, I keep pushing and—”

She pressed her hands to her eyes, she just wanted it to stop.

“—I never get it right. In those moments the only thing I think of is that if I mess up, and I lose you or someone else… I’d rather it be me.”

She sniffled, finally looking up at him.

“If it came down to you or me, I’d rather it be me.”

He cupped her chin, her skin as cold as ice. Punishing herself again, out in the freezing night with barely anything to cover her.

She looked lost, her eyes tired and empty. She had lost direction, lose purpose in her time here, she had forgotten that this wasn’t solitary. She needed to lean on them, she needed to prioritize herself.

“That’s not how we do this--”

Her searched her face for understanding; begging the universe that she was really listening.

“It’s not a ‘life for a life’ out there, we save lives Y/N. We don’t forfeit our own.”

He gently stroked the constellation on her cheek, “I’ve lost too many people and I’ll be damned if I lose another person I care about.”

Maybe it was the way he said it, or the look in his eyes. Maybe it was how he held her so tightly…

Y/N swallowed, fearing what she might do.

This was terrible timing. On the brink of either destroying or healing her fractured self, being asked in the dark of night to change her future for the better…

Yet all she could think about was how close he was to her.

“You care about me, huh?”

He shook his head, even in his sadness he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.

“God, you’re an idiot.”

She couldn’t have predicted that he would be the first to lean in, his lips molding perfectly against her own.

She was learning how forward Steve could really be when it mattered, how he could take charge, that he could care out loud.

His kiss was urgent, dominating and all consuming. His hands drifted into her tufts of hair and as his warmth encompassed her, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

Mind racing, her hands placed themselves against his abdomen, pulling him closer.

The kiss stopped, Steve moving to rest his forehead against hers.

“This isn’t punishment Y/N, it’s healing. I’m not losing you. We still need you on this team, there isn’t anyone else I’d want by my side. But I need to know that you’re not… that you don’t think you’re disposable.”

Her breath shuttered in the cold, and he pulled her in impossibly tighter.

“We can’t replace you. Get better, then come back to me…”

He ducked down to kiss her again, sweet and slow. His urgency was gone, she was finally listening…

“Okay?”

Something was clicking for her, she couldn’t quite put it to words yet, but she felt it internally. Slow changes, it was a start…

“Okay.”

~

The sunlight was soft through his window, early dawn illuminated the room in a subtle glow.

They hadn’t slept, just laid quietly in his room.

His fingers gliding across her soft skin, gingerly dancing over the bruised parts of her flesh.

He wanted to wipe it away, to kiss each damaged part until there was no pain left.

He hadn’t stopped touching her since he convinced her to come inside.

Doting on her figure with gentle, sweet touch.

“I’ll come back, you know.”

He looked up from her ribs, meeting her eyes.

He raised hand to graze her face, index finger tracing the small constellation.

“I didn’t think you guys wanted me here, too much of a liability.”

He shook his head, voice just above a whisper.

“Impossible.”

She returned his touch, softly scratching at the stubble on his cheeks.

“I need to apologize to everyone. I’ve shut them out since the meeting.”

He nodded in understanding, “I’ll talk to Fury, ask them to come say goodbye.”

Silence fell between them. Part of him dreaded saying goodbye,

Part of him wanted her to stay now, take care of her all on his own.

But he knew he couldn’t; that wasn’t his task to bear. She had to do this healing by herself, training her brain to think and react differently.

Still, he had only gotten her back a few hours ago. 6 months apart would leave him a wreck.

As if reading his mind, she grasped his chin and urged him to meet her gaze.

“You can come see me. I know I need to go and do this on my own, but it’s a short flight away.”

He nuzzled into her arms, basking in her touch.

“I could come with you for the first week, make sure you get settled with Doctor Raynor.”

She laughed softly, her hands weaving into his hair.

“Wow, miss me already?”

His face ducked into the crook of her neck, taking that as a yes.

“You have no idea.”

~

Wanda’s hug was bone crushing, who knew a small woman could be so strong?

“And you’re gonna come back? It’ll be like nothing has changed.”

Y/N chuckled, “When the doc clears me, yes.”

She pulled from Wanda’s grasp, resting her hands on her shoulders.

“Think of it as a vacation. Fury says if I make good progress I’ll be back before you know it.”

Wanda shook her head and went wide eyed.

“But don’t rush yourself.”

Y/N nodded, “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll take my sweet time.”

Tony cleared his throat, refusing to give in to his urge to hug her goodbye, but still needing to pipe up.

“You’ll still call us, right?”

She nodded again. “Of course, I’m just staying at my friend’s place. It’s not like I’m in solitary confinement.”

“As much as we tried to convince Fury, he wouldn’t allow it.” Sam said.

She punched Sam on the arm, and he let out a fake cry of pain.

Her laugh was halted by him pulling her to his side. “Call me when you get there. And call me before bed.”

“I will.”

Reaching down and grabbing two of her bags, Sam started to walk with her.

She waved to the rest of the team as they started towards the jet.

“So, Fury said you’re staying with a friend?”

“Yeah, she has a place in the city so… I’m gonna escape the scene for a while.”

“Mhm, sure she’ll have enough room?”

She could hear in his voice that he was hinting at something, Y/N chose to play it coy.

“Yeah, I don’t take up much space.”

Sam nodded, but couldn’t hide his smirks.

“Can’t say the same for Rogers but--”

She hit his arm like she had before.

“Shut up! Jeez you’re loud. How do you even know about that?”

“Bucky is more of a gossip than you think. Hill’s travel logs said “accomodations for two agents”. Your friend’s not an agent, you’re staying at her place, I did the math pretty quick.”

She shook her head, she’d give Barnes a piece of her mind if he wasn’t on his mission.

“Not a word to anyone, you understand?”

“Lips are sealed.”

Sam put his joking aside, his face growing serious.

“So, what’s going on there?”

She shrugged. “No idea. Something, I think.”

She looked across the hangar corridor to see Steve talking with Barton, micromanaging the packing of his bags and hers alike.

“He has a separate place set up. He won’t be there the whole time. Just getting me settled, popping in every now and then…”

“I bet he will be.”

She groaned, “Shut up.”

He set her bags at his feet, “That popping in thing… that go for all of us?”

“You come see me any time you’d like, Sam.”

From across the corridor, Barton looked at the amount of bags and began to wonder why there were so many.

“I don’t really think you’ll need this much for two days, Rogers.”

“Oh—” maybe he hadn’t thought this through as well as he thought, “Well I’m actually gonna stay in the city for a bit… um, touching base with Raynor and maybe doing some sight seeing.”

Barton’s brow raised. Bullshit.

“Good idea. Gotta—” he cleared his throat to avoid laughing, “Gotta make sure everyone’s on the same page.”

Steve nodded, “Exactly.”

He couldn’t believe Steve thought he was subtle, the entire team knew what was happening. They couldn’t just own up to it. But maybe it was for the best, let Y/N heal without the questioning of their relationship.

“Well,” he clapped Steve on the shoulder, “Have a good flight. I hope… I hope it all works out.”

Steve smiled softly, “Thanks. I think it will.”

Steve and Y/N left their partners, meeting in the middle of the hangar. They waved at the groups fleeting frames, before turning to each other.

Steve looked over her again, her wounds from battle still fully on display. But he noticed a difference, something in her had changed. It may have been something in her eye, or that genuine smiled that implied she was actually looking forward to therapy.

Whatever it was, he wanted her to hold onto it as long as possible. Hope looked good on her.

“All set?”

She looked at the jet, thinking of what was ahead of her. She knew she had a lot of work to do, change didn’t come over night. She’d have good moments and bad, but she had to remind herself of what she was doing this for. She felt she had a bigger purpose now, this wasn’t about becoming invincible. This was about becoming strong; to remember that the love she had coming from her people was more important than laying her life on the line.

And as she looked at him, she wanted to spill her heart out. Thank him for all he had done, for the way he always had her back, even when she thought it had been malicious. Thank him for pulling her out of her darkest moments, for putting sense into her when she was on the brink of spiraling. For showing her that love had its harsh and its tender moments, but that it was still love all the same.

But she said none of that, smiling softly and grabbing his hand. She would tell him someday, but there was no rush.

Neither of them was going anywhere.

“Yeah. I think so.”

~

TO BE LOVED IS TO BE CHANGEDDD

thank you to all of you that patiently waited for this series’ completion, 4 WHOLE YEARS my goodness.

And thank you to everyone that supports my work; it means the world to me:)

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[perkypeony]

𝕐𝕆𝕌'ℝ𝔼 ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝕎𝔼𝔸𝕂

Zeni'n Naoya x girlfriend reader

The mission was tough, but you managed to exorcise the curse. However, you couldn't avoid getting heavily injured. The curse's sharp claw pierced through your body, but you were lucky that it missed your vital organs. You also got a long cut on your forehead along with a few bruises here and there on your body.

"I'm sorry I can't make your scars go away," Shoko said as she finished healing your injuries with her reverse curse technique. "But you may go home now."

"Thanks, Shoko. I'd be a goner without you," you replied with a warm smile.

You then returned to your apartment. You hissed in pain as you bent down to take off your black ankle boots. You stopped by the kitchen for a glass of water before going to the bathroom to take a shower. You sighed when you saw your bloody outfit; you definitely had to use a huge amount of detergent to get rid of the smell and the stains.

You looked at your face in the mirror, slowly unwrapping the bandage from your forehead. You examined the tiny bruise on your jawline and the very visible long scar from the cut on your forehead. "Fuck…" you muttered under your breath. Why, instead of other places, did the curse choose to ruin your beautiful face? After cleaning yourself up, you get into an oversized cartoon T-shirt and black shorts.

You plopped on the bed, phone in hand, planning to order your dinner. Suddenly, a message popped up. It was Naoya. 𝙄𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙣?

Tonight? Oh, your movie night. But no! He couldn't see you like this. You decided to tell him that you were tired from today's mission and asked him if he could wait until the weekend.

𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙚. 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙠𝙖𝙮? 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙞𝙘 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩? 𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩.

Shit. You couldn't risk him seeing your injuries. What if he thought you were weak? What if he hated you after this? Would he dump you and leave for someone else?

“Naoya~ Can you still not get over the fact that I kicked your ass yesterday? C’mon, stop training and let’s go grab something to eat!” you teased him as you elbowed his left arm.

“Can't you stop annoying me?” Naoya's face was screaming FUCK OFF at you. You chuckled, loving all his reactions. You had always loved teasing him ever since the first day in Kyoto Jujutsu High. Since Naoya is the next head of the Zenin clan, you have already heard about him and his awful attitude, especially towards women. He despises women and looks down on them; for him, their job is only to please their husbands.

“Okay, okay. Chill. You did great yesterday. It's me who played dirty by tickling you,” you said, worried that you might have pushed the wrong button. “Let me treat you to sushi as an apology.”

“No need. I'll pay,” he replied sternly.

“But—”

“Shut your fucking mouth and let's go.”

You walked behind him, trying to catch up with his long stride. A smile crept on your blushed face. Naoya could be a nice person, at least when he was around you. He just didn't know how to show it, or he just literally sucked at it.

After a few minutes of debating on how you would explain your situation to him, you told him that you were too shy to send him pictures right now.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙤𝙙𝙙. 𝙒𝙚'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙨𝙝𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚.

You palmed your face when you realized how stupid your excuse was. You’d been dating him since the last year of Jujutsu High, and you had exchanged pictures with him so many times before.

You finally told him to give you 30 seconds to snap a picture. You went to a corner of your bedroom where the lighting was bad and used your hair to cover as much of the bandage as you could. You then took a picture with your left hand on your jawline, making it look like you were trying to be cute instead of covering up your bruise. You sent him the picture after you were satisfied that your injuries were barely visible. Now you could only hope that he wouldn't stare at your picture for too long, or worse, zoom in.

𝙄'𝙢 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧.

Panic set in. That wasn't the reply you wanted to see. You began pacing back and forth in your apartment. How could you explain? What would he say?

About 20 minutes later, your doorbell finally rang, and you opened it to find Naoya standing there, his expression unreadable. "Can I come in?"

You made a gesture for him to come inside and closed the door as he walked in. "Naoya, I..." Your voice caught in your throat, and suddenly the truth spilt out. "I got injured during the mission. I didn't want you to see me weak and so pathetic."

He didn't speak for a long moment, his gaze piercing through you. Then, unexpectedly, he stepped forward and pulled you into a gentle embrace. "You're not weak," he murmured against your hair. "You're strong. It's okay to get hurt sometimes. Even I do."

Surprised tears welled in your eyes as relief flooded through you. "You're not mad?"

"No," he said firmly. "I'm proud of you. You know I wouldn't date someone I consider weak."

His fingers brushed lightly over the bandage, his touch surprisingly tender. "Let me take care of you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Let me be here for you."

[cookiepie111]

༊࿐ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 ༊࿐

Part 2 of drink from the leche of sirens

Part 1 here

A/N: I'm back after what felt like f forever! Crying screaming throwing up it's finally finished! Part two of könig x nymph! Black Reader. I'm over the moon so many people liked part one i loved writing it. Love to hear your thoughts on this chapter or any ideas. Feedback,likes and reblogs are appreciated🙏🏾 also if you wanted to be added to the tag list please let me know. I've read this like a thousand times but if theres mistakes im sorry oop(Yes this title is from the new hunger games. I watched it and I'm obsessed! Please talk to me about it! )

Sisters in order of appearance Aganippe, Bolbe

Tag list: @montenegroisr @kneelingshadowsalome @havikshoochiemama @wordstome

       𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

Red. you wouldn't say it was your colour. It's a harsh and rough colour that didn't suit you. A colour you've never taken any notice of before. But you're seeing it everywhere. It's in the berries, the birds, and the flowers. You're seeing /him/ everywhere.

"Sister! Sister! What about this one? " You watch, fiddling with the braslet on your wrist as your sisters pull up a man from the water, he's tall but too skinny and smooth. not your man. A shake of your head, and he's shoved back down the water. Why was it so hard to find this man? You should have paid better attention to his armour, although that wouldn't help much. You're not well versed in the human wars and their armies.

"When did you see him?"

"Around the willows and lake i think it was xxxx "

one of your sisters hums, coiling her hair around her finger, oak skin still wet from the water. "That was Around the date from the Eastern fight, so he's probably with the reds or the greens " that was something the most you've gotten about him "but they're both pretty big armies." She stills looking up at you

"are you sure you were supposed to heal him" huh what did she mean, were you supposed to do anything with him? he just found his way there to you, you could do whatever you wanted with him right?. You weren't sure what your sister was asking, the look on your face must have made her nervous "I mean, maybe you shouldn't have let him go"

       𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

Magic is believing its a lot faith. There aren't any other options könig has so faith and believing are the only things he can hold on to. Belief, that the charm held tightly in his hands, will bring out a nymph, and faith he'll see you again.

The water ripples in the centre, slowly then rapidly, as bubbles ascending into the air.

This is what könig hates about magic it's too unpredictable, it's recklessness, and lacks control. Makes it hard to challenge and counter it. He needs to be in control, know all the moves his enemy could make, and magic doesn't allow that.

The lady standing in the water isn't the one könig's looking for. Her presence is off in every wat, from her appearance to the way the air moves around her. Her hair falls straight down her body it only moves at the tilt of her head. He expected this. Of course, finding his little nymph wouldn't be in easy task, but he more than ready.

"You're not the one I'm looking for," his efforts to keep composure are wasted on her, try as he might to stay neutral, its hard to miss this annoyance that slips in his voice.

"I'm sure I can be just as good," she responds, wearing a warm and gentle smile that never reaches her eyes. It's wasted time trying talking to her, he needs answers not idle conversation.

The waters are calm and still, yet his legs weigh heavy in the water. He's fighting against the waters just to make it to her, he shadows the sun just standing infront of her. He knows his presence is off putting, most women would have turned and run they wouldn't let him get his close. She only smiles the closer he gets.

König feels his feet sinking, or at least it seems that way. When he turned to gaze at her, she's still adorned with that same smile. Only König's looking up at her, not down, His knees are immersed in muddy water. She's now beaming with joy from her new catch.

Her hand catch könig's chin as he struggles to break free, forcing his face to her "hey don't worry. I'll tell her how good you tasted!"

So she does know where she is. That's all könig needs to know, ripping himself from the mud. She stares blankly at him, unimpressed by his display of strength.

"Where is she?" König's hand wrapping round her throat

"Haha, what's this? Are you trying to hurt me?" she dismisses him. König watched as her body phased between liquid and solid trying to worm her way out. Her face drops as she panicked, clawing at his hand while he tightened his grip. " You'll talk"

They struggled for a bit before she let out a screech, causing König to loosen his grip just enough for her swim away. Regaining his wits, könig stands straight in the water, looking around. He'd lost her, but He'll remember this for next time. The spirits are tricky things

       𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

A high-pitched shriek ripples through the air, your sister rushing by, tears streaming down her face, complaining to everyone she passes, "YOUR STUPID SOLDIER ASSAULTED ME!"

"Your soldier?" Your attention sharpens at her call – she found him. She found him! Oh, she found him.

"That stupid man asked for you. He nearly killed me! He's such an ugly and scary thing, why else would he cover his face?". I thought you said he was cute!

Another sister chimes in, "You're just mad you have terrible luck with masked men." Your sister's face burns, her eyes sharpening as she turns to you, "If I see him again. That man is as good as dead." Ah, she's serious. It's best you find him soon.

𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

There isn't a better colour for könig than red. It suits him quite well. It's the colour of the flag he waves high, the flames that light the night, that clear the way for a sege.The blood that paints his body in all its many shades after battle. more than that. It's His source of comfort, his efforts, and proof of his labours turned physically in the form of a carnelin bracelet that sits on his wrist.

The only proof of his nymph he ( had). He'd never be so careless as to lose it. in all his years, he never lost it, if its gone, it's only because it's been taken. He can't lie he is a bit annoyed You took it, but in exchange for his life, he couldn't complain.

He should go clean up he's a mess from that encounter with that other nymph. It's not enough to warrant a full bath, just his face he can wipe his body down with a towel. He wipes the towel across his face, reaching down to wet the towel. In that moment, he freezes, there atop the bubbling water, a carnelin bracelet.

[rainbowtransform]

The steps are echoing around him. It feels like his house, too big without his father in it and too quiet without the booming laugher of others echoing.

He has to keep going, Fabian thinks. The others are behind him, but only his steps echo there is no others.

He wants to speak. He needs to. The quiet is surrounding him, only his breathing and the steps he’s taking and the blood roaring in his ears.

And they are right there, aren’t they? The people that make his house feel like a home again. They are behind him and they’re staring at him.

They can’t speak, either.

Or can they?

There has to be laughter, he thinks. He needs to have them again. Fabian can’t live without them. He needs to see them again, and so he keeps going.

What if they’re lying, comes a thought, unbidden. What if no one is behind you? There is no breathing.

“Are you there?” Fabian asks. It stops him in his tracks. There is light somewhere but Fabian doesn’t focus on it. “Guys?”

There is no response and Fabian’s heart is thumping and his mind is spinning and he’s stopped walking. Nobody is answering him and they always answer him. Why aren’t they answering him?

If they were there, they’d answer him.

So—

Kristen isn’t looking back. She holds her staff to her chest, and squeezes her eyes shut. She wants to pray, but it won’t work.

Cassandra was frantic when her connection began frazzling. She was already reaching to pluck them all out of whereever they were before it was cut off completely and now Kristen is alone.

Her friends are behind her.

Kristen won’t look back.

She’s read this myth when she was studying new religions. She knows it like the back of her hand and she refuses to look behind her and doom them all.

Kristen knows this. If she wants them to get out, she can’t lose focus. And she won’t.

She is Saint Kristen Applebees, Head Priestess of Cassandra, goddess of doubt and this is her god’s entire deal.

She can doubt their existence, and she will. Just until they get to the light and all pass through. And then she will spend her nights holding their warm, breathing bodies and checking pulses and casting heals on them.

She will ask Cassandra to grant her more spells for them.

She will ask Cassandra anything for them.

There’s a noise behind her, someone tripping on a rock and—

Gorgug is walking. He doesn’t remember how long he has been walking, but he knows it’s been a while. He closes his eyes, and remembers “It’s Gorgug, Keep Going,” and he keeps walking.

He talks. He talks about how he will take them home, how he will protect them in the night when they fall asleep. He talks about what he had for breakfast (he had nothing, they don’t need to know that) and he talks about how their parents are doing.

He tells them that their parents have torn apart the entire world, chewed through armies, and burned oceans for them.

He tells them that he’s sorry that he didn’t come sooner, but he wasn’t brave enough. He tells them how he spent weeks searching for where they’d went exactly in order to find them.

Gorgug tells them that he will get them out. He makes promises. He asks them to talk to him.

To say something.

His throat is dry and it feels clogged. There are tear tracks on his face, and he doesn’t wipe them away. The drops fall onto the ground and he falls to his knees.

“Please,” he begs. “Please say something. I’m—I can’t. I can’t do this alone.”

It feels like the Nightmare Forest, all alone. It feels like Orc Heaven, with all the flames for miles and with the gleaming eyes of the guidance counselor next to him.

Someone thumps behind to him, someone to their knees and—

Adaine takes another breath of air. There is nothing between her and the goal. It is her, her family, and the gleam of the sun high above her.

She climbs the steps, hearing nothing behind her. Riz would chide her for being stupid and thinking they’re not behind her.

Wherever she’d go, they’d follow. They proved it multiple times. So she knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that they are there.

They are always there.

Except that she can’t see the sparkle of gold hair beads in the sun. There is no bass thrumming steadily through her walk, no spark of a lighter to light another’s cigarette. There’s no tapping of a staff against the floor, not even a glimpse of a Mage Hand reaching out to snatch something from someone else.

Except, her friends aren’t there.

Her breathing becomes more panicked, her throat is closing up. She needs to see, she needs to—

They are behind him. Riz knows this for a fact, because he made sure they would be. He’d made the deal, had woven the contract himself and given it to the entity.

He had sneered at him, laughing and laughing before agreeing. Riz had a glimpse of his friends lining up behind him before he turned around and started walking.

They are behind him, and Riz will get them out because they are his best friends and he won’t leave them to this place.

The steps are hard. They’re one of the hardest things he’s ever done, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut and restrain himself from doing anything when he heard that one of them had fallen.

The others help them up, though, and Riz keeps going. He doesn’t ask them if they are alright. If he speaks to them, then he will falter and he can’t.

The sun is just above them, and he can taste the air. It’s almost sweet.

The doorway looms overhead, huge in the overwhelming silence but Riz can’t dwell on it. His watch feels cold on his skin, his father’s panicking voice is one of the things Riz can’t think about.

So he doesn’t.

The air tastes like victory, and Riz grins at the entrance, his watch beeping with his father’s screaming before—

Fig is thrumming her bass, the sound slowly moving through the place.

This is different than the Hell she’s used to. There is no flames, just emptyness and shells of something floating around.

Ankarna is silent, in Fig’s head. She hasn’t said a word since Fig made a deal and she thinks that her goddess is upset with her but—

But these are her friends. These are someone who has stuck by her, through and through and she loves them just as much as she loves Ankarna.

She can’t leave them.

So she keeps going, humming a lullaby she can’t quite remember. Her grandmother sang it to her when she lived with them and used to tuck Fig into bed.

Fig keeps playing. She wonders if drums would go good with the lullaby.

Nobody joins in. There is nothing except her own bass.

She doesn’t speak.

She doesn’t need to.

She just sings and plays, and hopes beyond hope that they are following her music. That they are following her.

She knows they are behind her. Knows it in the marrow of her bones, in the heart of her bass, in the echoes around her.

They are behind her.

They are always behind her.

Where is Fabian’s footsteps, and the rustle of his battle sheet?

Where is Gorgug’s tinker noises, or the heavy swing of his axe on his back?

Where is Adaine’s rustling jacket? Boggy’s croaking?

Where is Kristen’s tapping, her laugh?

Where is Riz’s shuffling papers or the tapping of his wristwatch?

Where are they?

The music stops and before she can even think better—

They look back.

[whumpninja]

tried to save this for spooky season but screw it, vampires in summer. who cares. definitely not me.

Featuring: five (5) hot n’ evil vampire whumper ladies, one (1) sad wet cat of a bloodbag whumpee, blood drinking described in stupid amounts of lurid detail, THIS IS GRAPHIC FOLKS, blood drinking from places other than the neck, slit wrist, magic hypnotism (what do you call that thing vampires do where they control people?? that. it’s whatever that is), magic healing, discussions of mercy killing, dehumanization, creepy pet names

sweet william

The blood ran slick down her throat, warm and wet and syrupy. Thick enough to savor, but thin enough to flow. Right now it was still a stream of crimson, but in a short while it would be no more than a trickle. A little had spilled down her chin; she straightened up and dabbed away the red spot with her sleeve. Then, sighing with pleasure, she bent her head and continued her meal.

“Morgana, you have to share.”

“Mine is the right to begin, Selene.” Morgana bit down again, harder this time, feeling the moment her sharp fangs pierced through the soft skin. She watched the twin rivulets roll down from the wounds and licked the drops of blood up just before they fell onto the stone. “Tradition doesn’t say when I have to stop.”

“Before you kill it, I should hope,” Annabel said blandly from her seat at the other end of the cave. A rat perched on her head, another sat on her shoulder, and two more slept in her lap. She had at least a dozen. “We can hardly get another out here.”

“Lilah keeps trying,” Selene replied. She stood leaning against the wall, toying with the little knife she insisted on carrying with her. “She’s out there now, hoping to stumble across fresh meat. I don’t think she likes this one much.”

“Oh, I can’t imagine why.” That was Lucy, sitting on the floor at Annabel’s feet, humming a little song to herself. “This one’s so good and sweet. Isn’t it almost Annabel’s turn, Morgana?”

“Vultures!” Morgana complained, raising her head. She felt the way the blood dripped from her chin, the way her sisters stared hungrily at the scarlet droplets. “Can't you let me eat in peace?”

“No,” replied Lucy, in a voice like sugar. Her big, soft eyes were no longer black, as they had been the day before. They now shone a dark wine color and were getting brighter as her need for blood crept up on her. In a few hours they would be glowing hot and red, and she would attack the first living thing she saw. Selene’s brown eyes and Annabel’s hazel ones were also beginning to redden. Sometimes the bloodthirst was useful. But when they were trying so hard not to be discovered, they dared not risk letting themselves fall into that state.

With a sigh, Morgana stood. Power rushed like a river through her- she didn’t know what it was about this human, but his blood rejuvenated her like no others had. She would have had to drain a full-grown man dry in order to get the same effect a few mouthfuls of this one’s blood had on her.

And, of course, she had had much more than a few mouthfuls. She’d taken nearly half. It was her right as leader of the coven- the right to begin the feast, and the right to drink her fill.

Annabel was next by right of seniority- she was older than the rest of them put together. Morgana stepped back from the stone shelf that served as their table, letting the elder take her place. While Morgana preferred to take her time and savor her meals, Annabel was more brisk about it. Morgana didn’t feel the need to watch her sister eat; she’d seen it dozens of times.

So instead, she watched the human.

He was a soft little thing, as timid as a rabbit. They’d had him a year already, and yet she thought she would never be tired of seeing the fear in his big brown eyes. She loved the way his brows knit together in the middle, how his frightened eyes darted back and forth, how his chest rose and fell in terrified gulps of air. They didn’t need to restrain him anymore. At first, they’d had to tie him down on the stone table, and even then he had thrashed like a calf being butchered. Morgana had begun using her magic to force him to lie still, and that had worked beautifully. Now, she hardly even needed to use that.

Annabel craned her neck and sank her fangs into the meat of the human’s shoulder. A little moan broke from his lips as the blood started to flow. Only Morgana was allowed to drink from his neck- the most vulnerable place, the traditional area for biting. The others had their favorite spots, but his throat belonged to her alone.

Annabel was quick about it. She drank down several deep mouthfuls, sighing in pleasure, and then took a small clay dish and let it fill with blood. “Thank you, dearie,” she said happily, patting the boy’s head. She set the dish down on the cave floor and made little kissing noises, and all twelve of her rats came scampering over to drink.

Privately Morgana thought that was disgusting; the little creatures could find their own food. Her lovely cat Clover got along fine hunting squirrels and mice in the woods, not drinking blood with her mistress. But Annabel’s business was Annabel’s business. If she wanted to share her meal with her pets, that was her affair.

“Hurry up, I can’t wait any longer!” exclaimed Lucy. Annabel picked up the empty dish and sat back down in her chair, rats swarming over her. Lucy was up now, her eyes bright with hunger.

Selene raised an eyebrow at the younger vampiress. “If Lilah were here you’d have to wait even more,” she pointed out.

“Well, she’s not. So eat and then let me have my turn!”

Selene shrugged and peeled herself away from the wall, sidling up to the stone table. The human recognized her even in his dazed stupor; Morgana saw the flicker of fear that lit in his eyes. Selene never used her fangs.

Selene looked down at the human for a moment, then set the blade of her dagger against his wrist and slit the vein. The cry that tore out of the boy’s mouth was music. His back arched, and his head twisted to the side, his eyes filling with tears. His legs curled in on themselves and straightened out again, a long-buried instinct to fight back awakening only to die again. Selene rarely bothered with magic, even to keep a victim still. She liked to watch them struggle. Theirs never really fought anymore, not like he once had, but there were still the little helpless writhings of a creature in pain, and Selene enjoyed those as much as she would have liked a true scuffle. She kept her eyes on the human as she bent down to drink, a smile tugging at her lips.

Selene was messy about it, too. The blood spurting from the opened artery got everywhere, which would have driven Morgana mad but didn’t seem to bother Selene one bit. She had remarked once that she liked the feeling of blood splattering her face; it reminded her of a fresh kill.

And speaking of- “Careful, Selene,” Morgana warned, low under her breath. The boy was getting a little too pale for her liking. She didn’t want him to die just yet, and he was so fragile. Taking too much blood could very well be the end for him.

Selene raised her head. “We need a new one,” she said firmly. “If we can’t even get a good meal without it dying on us-“

“If you want more blood, go and find a farmer to eat,” Morgana shot back. “I like this one. You will not kill him. Not yet.”

Selene stared at her for another moment with narrowed eyes, then stood up, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “Fine. Lucy, your turn.”

“Finally!” Lucy jumped up and smoothed back her long black hair. “You took forever, Selene.” She sidled up to the boy, her eyes sharp and hungry. Morgana watched as she ran a gentle hand down his cheek. “Poor darling,” Lucy cooed. “She was cruel to make you feel all that.” With her other hand, Lucy wove a sigil of vampire magic in the air, pressing her fingers to the human’s forehead. For a moment he thrashed again. Then the magic took hold, and his body slumped to the stone. His brown eyes glazed over, and a little smile curved his lips. Lucy beamed. “There, sweetheart, isn’t that better?” She moved down the table, keeping a hand on the boy, until she got to her own favored drinking place. “This won’t hurt a bit, darling,” she promised.

Lucy licked her lips and bit down harder than even Morgana had, her fangs burying themselves in the meat of the human’s thigh. There was another artery there, and she severed it easily, letting the blood spray into her mouth for a moment before she bent her head to truly drink. If he hadn’t been enchanted, Morgana knew the boy would be screaming with pain. But Lucy’s magic made it so he felt nothing but pleasure and perhaps a little sting. Lucy liked her victims to think they were enjoying it.

She was, perhaps, the most dangerous one of them all.

Lucy took her time- not so long as Morgana had, but longer than Annabel and Selene. She kept stopping to glance at the human’s face, stupefied into a smile. Morgana wondered how far she’d taken it- had she only made him believe he was enjoying being fed on? Or had she woven some sort of illusion for him to lie in, dreaming that something else entirely was happening? She could do both. Morgana didn’t see the point, herself- it was almost kinder to let him feel it, let him know what was happening. As soon as Lucy was finished, the pain and the reality would both come back to bite him. Ha. Morgana smiled at the inward joke.

Lucy finished at last, snapping her fingers to release the spell she’d laid. The glaze on the boy’s eyes faded, and Morgana watched them fill back up with pain. He glanced almost frantically around the cave, unable to remember what had just happened. All he knew was that it hurt.

Watching that was almost as delicious as the blood itself.

Morgana almost stepped forward to take him off the table, but a voice interrupted her. “You started supper without me?”

The last of their little band came into the cave’s main room in a jingling swirl of gold beads and black braids. Lilah was humming, so Morgana knew she wasn’t truly angry.

“Did you find another one?” Selene asked.

Lilah pouted. “No. I think they’re watching for me now, after last time.”

Last time had been when Lilah had encountered a hunter in the forest and politely asked him if he wanted to be eaten. She’d been lucky not to be shot. Poor Lilah, Morgana thought. The young vampire tried so hard, but she just hadn’t gotten her head wrapped around- well, anything. A little simple, Selene had once said of her, and Morgana thought secretly that perhaps she was right.

“Go on and eat, little sister,” she said aloud. “You’re last, I’m afraid.”

Lilah shrugged, tossing her satchel to the side. “I don’t mind.” She practically skipped to the stone table, tipping her head as she looked at the human. “I’ll be quick, chickie, don’t worry.”

Lilah hadn’t really gotten the hang of magic yet, so she didn’t bother bespelling the boy. She also didn’t care that drinking from major arteries was much easier than drinking from anywhere else. Her claimed spot was a vein in the chest. Morgana watched as she bit down into it, the human gasping and writhing beneath her. Lilah mumbled something around her fangs.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” said Annabel reproachfully.

Lilah popped her head up. “I said, I’m going to try not to take too much. He seems tired.” She bit again, closer to the boy’s heart, and began her noisy meal. True to her word, she didn’t take long and didn’t take much. She hopped off the human with a little sigh and went to go dig in her satchel for whatever she’d found on her adventure.

Now that they’d all eaten, it was Morgana’s turn once more. She came to the stone table, looking down at their human.

The boy lay very still. Blood pumped sluggishly from the wounds they’d made, spilling red over his skin. His eyes were distant, unfocused, tears of pain streaming down his face unheeded. He’d given them everything he had to give.

Poor child. Five vampires were a lot to satisfy. Morgana raised her hands, weaving a healing sigil over him. Only she could do this part.

She took the finished spell in her hand and set it against each of his wounds in turn. The ragged punctures- and Selene’s cut- knit themselves back together at the touch of her magic, leaving dark bruises that would turn to scars in time. There had to be scars, with vampire magic. It never healed all the way.

The boy was too dazed and tired to react to the magic- he was used to it by now. Morgana helped him to sit up. “There, lamb, it’s over now,” she murmured. “You were so good for us, sweet. So good.”

Across the cave Selene scoffed.

The boy didn’t seem to hear. Morgana brushed the sweat-soaked curls away from his forehead, and he leaned into her touch like Clover often did, his eyes fluttering closed. “There now, little lamb,” Morgana said soothingly. “You did so well.”

“We need a new one,” Selene said. Her dagger blade flashed in the light as she toyed with it. “This one’s nearly spent. It gets weaker every time we eat. It’s been spelled stupid. I doubt it even knows its own name.”

“Oh, hush,” Morgana said. “You know your name, don’t you, lamb? I say it often enough. He’s our dear sweet William.”

There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes when she said his name, she was sure of it. He’d be all right once he recovered, and they wouldn’t need to eat again for about a week. Soon he’d be back to his usual self, scurrying about the cave doing his chores, perhaps making a saucy comment or two when he felt brave.

With the fingertips of her free hand Morgana wove a tiny command sigil and set it on the back of his hand. “Go and rest now, little lamb,” she said, and he obeyed instantly. She watched him stumble to the fireplace at the side of the cave- Lilah had managed to bring along a Persian rug when they’d had to flee into the woods, and the boy slept there now. He almost fell onto the rug, curling up with an adorable little sigh. He was asleep in moments.

“You might have had him put his shirt back on,” remarked Annabel.

Morgana tossed her dark curls irritably. “My, how clever we are today. Does anyone else have an opinion on how to run this coven they’d like to share? Lucy? Lilah?”

Lucy took the hint and wisely shook her head.

“Now that you mention it, I think we all ought to have a picnic once a month,” said Lilah.

Morgana rolled her eyes. “I can’t tell if you’ve spent too much time in the woods or not enough.” She leaned down to pick up Clover, who was rubbing her legs and meowing for attention. The cat bumped her little black head against Morgana’s chin as she continued. “Regardless, I am the leader of this clan. We’ll get a new blood source when I say we will. And that’s the end of it.” She looked around, daring any of them to challenge her.

None of them did.

Satisfied, Morgana set Clover down and went to the fireplace, crouching by the sleeping boy’s side. She couldn’t explain what drew her about this one compared to the many others she’d drained in her long un-life. He was just…special.

Selene had come up behind her, looking over her shoulder at the dying fire. “Morgana,” she said in a low voice so the others couldn’t hear. She took up the poker and stabbed at the logs. They’d need more wood soon, but the human wasn’t in any shape to be collecting firewood just yet. “You know it would be a mercy to kill it. It’s barely clinging to life. We can find a better one easily and let this one rest.”

Morgana sighed. “I know. But he’s…I can’t explain it, Selene. He’s special. There’s something about him. The taste of his blood. The way he looks at us with those big, scared eyes. The way he even has the ability to feed five vampires without dying. I can’t let go of him yet.”

“When you decide you’re ready, I’ll do it for you,” Selene offered. “I’ll make it quick. Painless. It’d be a kindness to him, Morgana. And better for us too.”

Morgana answered with a noncommittal hum.

Selene wandered away, likely to do something frightening with knives. At the back of the cave, Annabel sat in the old rocking chair they’d found, petting her rats. Lucy was embroidering something, stitching spiderwebs onto it in black thread. Lilah slouched cross-legged with her back to the bloodstained stone table, sorting through whatever junk she’d brought back from the woods.

Morgana retrieved the boy’s threadbare white shirt from the side of the cave and gently draped it over him. “I won’t let her kill you,” she said softly. “No, you’ll stay with us for a long time yet. I’m already looking forward to our next meal.” She brushed aside the black curls and wove a dream sigil for him, laying it on his forehead. The furrows in his brow eased, and Morgana smiled. “Sleep soft and dream sweet, little lamb,” she whispered. “My sweet William.”

[bwabys-scenarios]

Reunited

Part 28

Illumi x Reader x Feitan

part 27

part 29

warnings: feitan is mega horny in this 👁️👁️

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream @canthebest1 @whorermoviestar

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

(Name) loitered in the doorway of Feitan’s room, barely holding back a squeal.

The man had fallen asleep, the kitten from before lying on his chest. The girl took out her phone and snapped a picture before closing the door behind her.

“So cute…”

She unloaded the supplies she had gathered from town. The news said the storm would hit sometime in the next two day. It would be its most intense for 3 days, before petering out by next Monday.

(Name) had bought a few candles, a battery powered fan and heating pad, some flashlights, and board games. She already had supplies beforehand, so she didn’t need to buy too much.

“I should start on dinner…”

An hour passed before (Name) heard the sound of Feitan’s door opening the closing.

“You’re back.”

Feitan was already right behind her, the girl jumping with a yell. “How the- how did you get behind me so quick?”

She held a hand over her heart, letting out a huff. He only shrugged, leaving to put the kitten back in its warm box.

He could smell the scent of lemons, knowing she was making the lemon meringue pie he had asked for.

“Dinner is almost ready. I’m hope you’re okay with soup.”

“That’s fine.”

Feitan pulled a chair out and sat at the dinner table, watching her whip a bow of meringue. She huffed, stretching her tired arms before mixing again.

“Give me.”

Feitan snatched the bowl out of her hand and sat back down. (Name) whined, saying he didn’t know when to stop and what to add. He rolled his eyes and pointed to the chair next to him. “Show me.”

He wasn’t the best at cooking, the only attempt of making lunch for himself resulting in a mushy substance he said was nutritional enough. Feitan, however, was strong and good at repetitive tasks, so whisking or mixing was easy for him.

Feitan could barely concentrate on eating dinner, the lemon meringue pie on his mind. He tried not to let people know how much of a sweet tooth he had, it was embarrassing to him, the interrogator of THE Phantom Troupe had a soft spot for sweet things.

One of them being (Name).

He watched as she brought him a piece of pie, her smile bright and beaming.

“I hope you like it!”

——————

The next day, Feitan and (Name) prepared for the upcoming storm. She picked as much fruit as possible, jarring some and leaving the rest in baskets.

Feitan helped her make sure the house was secure before leaving to jog and exercise again. He needed to be far away to practice with his nen, not wanting her to get caught up in any of his attacks.

It was two months into his stay, and Feitan was feeling restless. He didn’t go more than a month between mission if he could help it.

He pulled out his phone, going through his contacts and pressing on Chrollo’s

It rang for a few seconds.

“Feitan? How nice of you to call. Are you doing well?”

Feitan pushed his hair out of his face, sighing. “Doing okay. Arms are mostly healed.”

Chrollo hummed, the sound of people talking in the background telling Feitan he was either meeting with the spiders, or somewhere public.

“When do you estimate you’ll be back to your full strength?”

“Month at most.”

“I see.”

Feitan leaned against a tree. “What are your plans for the girl?”

“The girl? Who do you mean?”

Feitan frowned. “(Name).”

Chrollo laughed. “Why do you ask, Feitan?”

“Curious.”

The line was silent for a minute. Feitan didn’t often ask Chrollo these things, just listening to whatever orders he gave.

“Uvogin said she may have some information that could be useful to us. I will be coming to pick you up in a month, so make sure you’re better by then.”

“Chrollo.”

Chrollo paused, blinking. Feitan almost NEVER used his name, referring to him as boss.

“What do you plan to do with (Name)?”

Chrollo closed his book, his interest peaked. Uvogin had said him that Feitan was soft on that girl, but his tone of voice told Chrollo it was more than that.

“Oh, Feitan, I simply would like to meet her. I won’t harm the girl, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Chrollo could almost hear Feitan relax, a sigh leaving the dark haired man’s lips.

“She has taken care of a fellow spider, and for that we are in her debt. Be sure you’re gentle with her, Feitan.”

The short man grumbled. “Already gentle…”

Chrollo chuckled, glancing down at his watch. “I have to go, tell your girlfriend I said hi.”

“She’s n-“

Click.

Feitan’s face heated up at Chrollo’s words, pocketing his phone as he continued his run.

Chrollo placed his phone face down on the table, barely holding himself back from smiling. More than anything, he wanted to meet the girl that Feitan had so much affection for. When questioned about it, Uvogin said she was cute.

He couldn’t wait to see her.

——————

It wasn’t until after dark that Feitan returned. He was covered in sweat and dirt, pulling his shirt off as he walked in.

“Hi F- OH!”

(Name) jumped up from her chair when she saw the shirtless man before her, her eyes wide and cheeks heating up.

Feitan snickered at her reaction, throwing his shirt into the hamper. “Like what you see?”

(Name) stiffened up so quickly you would of thought she’d turned into a wooden board.

“I-um-“

She was looking everywhere but him, her face turning beet red.

“You’re… quite handsome! Sorry!”

The girl rushed to her room and closed the door behind her.

That was quite the resection. Feitan found his own cheeks turning pink. Did she really find him handsome?

He’d never cared much about his looks, besides the occasional bought of insecurity, but her words had him glancing at himself in the mirror.

His hair was in disarray and face covered in sweat and dirt. Feitan couldn’t really understand why she’d said what she did.

The two had a few inches of height difference, (Name) being taller. Did she mind that? He was used to being shorter than most of the women in his life, so why did it bother him now?

Feitan let out a huff before gathering a change of clothes and heading to the bathroom to shower.

Once she heard the shower start, (Name) left her room to make dinner.

——————

Feitan left the shower, his wet hair sticking up his face. “Dinner ready?”

(Name) looked up from the stove, smiling. “Almost! Oh, Feitan, your hair!”

She rushed over, pushing him into the bathroom. “I swear, you’re gonna catch a cold one day.”

She dropped a towel on his head, ruffling his hair as she hummed.

Feitan sat patiently, leaning into her touch. The man wasn’t stupid, he knew to dry his hair after a shower, but he let (Name) believe he didn’t so she’d do it herself.

(Name) was always so gentle, as if she had a lot of experience doing this.

“You’re the oldest sibling?” Feitan asked as she brushed her hands through his damp locks.

“Yep! I have three younger siblings, all girls.”

Ah, that explained her awkwardness around men, and her soft nature.

“All of my sisters are such tomboys, they’re always coming home filthy and never remember to dry their hair.”

She pouted, grabbing a comb and pulling it through his hair.

“But…”

(Name)’s eyes softened. “I love them, so much. They’re the reason I keep on going. I send back most of my earnings to make sure they grow up with more than I did.”

Feitan stayed silent, allowing her to pull his hair into a ponytail using a pink scrunchie. There was so much about (Name) he didn’t know. She’d never told him about her sisters or how much she really cared, what else was he ignorant to?

“I’m thinking about becoming a hunter.”

Feitan’s head shot up. “What?”

“Since I don’t have a birth certificate, it’s next to impossible to get a decent job. Anyone can become s hunter, and along with it paying well, you can travel so many places with just your license!”

Feitan gripped the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t imagine this soft and gentle girl surviving the Hunter Exam. Even Shalnark, a fellow spider with tremendous strength struggled with it.

“Shouldn’t. It’s very dangerous.”

(Name) giggled, poking his cheek. “Since when did you care if I was in danger or not?”

He grabbed her wrist, his grip tighter than he’d meant it to be. “F-Feitan, you’re hurting me!”

He loosened his grip, rubbing his thumb against her knuckles. Feitan didn’t want to think about all the things that could go wrong if she were to go through with the exam. Would those fragile hands be capable of defending her?

Even if she survived and became a Hunter, she could die or be seriously injured during missions.

“… just don’t, okay?”

(Name) didn’t answer, but slipped her hand into his.

“Let’s go eat dinner.”

——————

After dinner, (Name) pulled feitan to the couch to watch the news with her. The storm was coming, and she’d need to him be aware of it.

The storm would be upon them in only a few hours, a thunderstorm warning making (Name) stiffen.

She switched to the Blu-ray player, her legs wobbly as she waddled over to put a movie on. Feitan was usually in his room by then, but (Name) insisted on watching a movie together before bed.

“Is a ghibli movie alright with you?”

“Ghibli? What’s that?”

(Name) sighed, pushing a dvd into the Blu-ray player. “Feitan, do you ever feel joy?”

“No.”

(Name) had to turn around to see his smirk to know he was joking.

The pair sat on the couch, a decent amount of space separating them. (Name) picked Howls Moving Castle, cuddled up under a plush blanket and smacking on popcorn.

Feitan glanced at her throughout the movie, raising an eyebrow as she giggled every time Howl showed up.

“Why are you giggling?”

(Name) shushed him. “Shh, Howl is on screen.”

Once the scene was over, she turned to Feitan. “He’s the perfect man, that’s why I’m giggling. Although I think he’s more handsome with black hair. Oh, that’s a spoiler.”

She turned her attention back to the screen, but Feitan couldn’t help but pull a strand of his black hair forward, a ghost of a smile on his lips. So she liked black hair, huh?

He didn’t pay any attention to the movie, (Name)’s reactions were way more interesting.

She would blush and giggle every time Howl appeared, of course, but also seemed to sigh when Sofie said she wasn’t beautiful, a strange nostalgic look on her face.

She’d laugh at every joke, even though she’d seen the movie a hundred times. Her hands gripped the cushions of the couch when the movie got more intense, on the edge of her seat.

As the movie came to an end, a few tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes, quickly swiped away as she smiled at the couple finally together.

“Did you like it?”

Feitan blinked, realizing the movie was over and (Name) was waiting to hear his opinion.

“It was… good. Interesting.”

She giggled, leaning against his shoulder. “It’s my favorite movie, I’m glad you liked it!”

Feitan felt a little guilty for not actually paying attention to the movie, but that guilt vanished at the feeling of her on his shoulder.

“Touchy again.” Feitan pushed her off, snickering. Although he wanted her touch, he had an image to keep up.

“Meeeaann!”

She laughed, snuggling up under her blanket as the credits played. Feitan watched her for a moment before standing up and stretching.

“I’m going to bed. See you in morning.”

(Name) shot up, grabbing his wrist. “W-wait! Are you sure you want to go to bed so early?”

“Nearly 11 pm?”

(Name) scowled. “Yes but…”

Feitan pulled his wrist away and flicked her forehead. “Go to bed.”

He turned before he could see her frown deeply, anxiety written across her face.

—————

Feitan woke up to the someone knocking on his door.

The faint sound of raindrops hitting the window told Feitan that the storm had begun. He glanced at his alarm clock to see it was only 1 am.

The short man groaned, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and walking across the floor, rubbing his tired eyes.

(Name) stood on the other side of the door. Of course it was her, who else could it be.

“Sorry for waking you up…”

The girl fidgeted with her oversized shirt, staring at the floor.

“… what do you want?”

Before (Name) could answer, a booming clash of lighting struck outside, the thunder shaking the house. (Name) jumped at the sound as all the color faded from her face.

She was trembling, tears starting run down her cheeks, unable to speak.

“… scared of storms?”

She could only nod, reaching out to grab onto his sleeve. Her hands were uncharacteristically cold, Feitan able to feel it through his shirt.

“Can…”

She looked away again in embarrassment.

“Can I sleep with you?”

A silence overtook the two, Feitan barely able to breathe.

“Repeat that.”

(Name) reached her hands up to cover her face.

“Can I sleep with you?”

Feitan felt his body warm at her words, gripping the doorframe so tight he felt like it might break.

One look at her scared face was enough for him to groan and pull her into his room.

“Fine. But stay on that side.”

He pointed to the left side of the bed, watching her climb in and make herself comfortable. He climbed in as well, his eyebrow raised when he saw she was facing him.

“… turn around.”

(Name) tilted her head. “Why?”

Feitan scowled and pushed her away. “Because I said so.”

(Name) grumbled as she turned, looking quite cute all cuddled up under his blanket. He rolled his eyes and watched as her breathing slowed, the girl falling asleep within 5 minutes.

How could she sleep so easily in the same bed as a man, a bad man at that? He turned around before he could think about her being next to him any further, trying to calm down his racing heart.

Feitan was again woken up, not to a sound, but to a feeling.

He felt the distinct weight of a limb plopping down on his waist, pulling him closer. When he turned back around to see what the hell his bed partner was doing, he was a bit surprised(and turned on).

She was still asleep, but had wrapped her leg around his waist, pulling him towards her. Her arms were reaching out, patting the bed next to her, seemingly searching for something.

Now that he was turned to face her, her leg pulled him ever closer until their hips were pressed together and her hands could reach him. She sighed in content then, her fingers brushing through his hair slowly.

Feitan was having an internal struggle. On one hand, he knew he should push her off and go back to sleep. On the other…

Feitan grabbed her by the waist and pulled her even closer, letting her head rest against his chest. His nose buried itself in her hair, his hands trembling as they gripped the fat on her hips.

He had never held someone before, panting softly into her hair. Feitan wasn’t sure how to feel, finding comfort in her warmth, but discomfort in her being so close, so vulnerable to his touch.

He would never try anything indecent, especially after she trusted him enough to sleep next to him. But he could feel a certain part of him harden against her hips. He bit the inside of his cheek, gripping her waist harder.

His eyes flitted down to her face. She looked so content in his arms, a cute smile on her lips. Would she be smiling if she were awake to feel he was getting hard just from her being pressed against him?

In the morning, Feitan would push her off of him before she woke up and try to forget the feeling of her body pressed against his, but tonight he lost himself in her scent, letting his hands hold onto her hips and waist.

As if she was his, and his alone.

——————

Unfortunately, (Name) woke up before he did.

Although Feitan had drifted away from her in the night, his hand was intertwined with hers, and there was a certain… bulge in his pants that stood up a bit too high for (Name) not to notice.

The girl pulled the blanket over his body, trying not to look at it. She had learned in Sex Ed that men could get morning wood, but she hadn’t even thought that could happen to a man like Feitan.

At the feeling of the blanket brushing against his chest, Feitan awoke, blinking open his eyes and turning to see (Name) hovering near him, her boobs right above his face as she attempted to cover him up without waking him.

“What you doing?”

The girl squeaked, her hand supporting her slipping on the sheet.

Feitan didn’t process what was happening until her boobs plopped down onto his face.

And he really couldn’t complain.

“Oh my- Feitan I’m so sorry!”

She quickly pulled back, scurrying off the bed. The man laid there, just taking everything in. Feitan could really get used to this, these small intimate moments of her body against his.

But Feitan knew he couldn’t allow his thoughts to wonder, instead pushing the girl off his bed.

“… out.”

—————

(Name) felt very embarrassed. Not only had she seen him hard, she’d also fallen on top of him. Had she hurt his face? (Name) knew she wasn’t exactly a small woman, but he was a smaller than average man.

She busied herself with making breakfast, jumping at the occasional sound of thunder. Feitan exited his room about 30 minutes later, his face flushed even worse than last time.

“Feitan, are you alright? You’re all red.”

(Name) leaned forward and pressed her lips against his forehead, the man’s hand immediately shooting out to grab her shoulders and push her away.

“What are you doing!?”

He could feel his face turn an even brighter red, the tips of his ears scarlet. (Name) seemed confused by his reaction, Feitan’s mouth agape.

“I’m checking your temperature? My hands are too warm from cooking to get an accurate read.”

She gently leaned back forward, pressing her lips to his forehead again. When she pulled back, the man couldn’t speak.

“You’re warm… why don’t you just rest for today? I’ll bring you breakfast when it’s ready.”

She patted his shoulder before walking back into the kitchen. The man rushed back to his room, groaning.

It was annoying, the way his body reacted to her touch. Feitan couldn’t help but wrap his hand around his leaking cock, panting as he jerked off to the lingering feeling of her lips against his skin.

——————

Feitan didn’t open his door when she brought breakfast to him, yelling out for her to leave him alone.

He continued to stay in his room until an hour later, grabbing his(now cold) breakfast and scurrying back to his room, refusing to even glance in (Name)’s direction.

Feitan hated how much of an effect she held over him. His body craved her, in both a loving and sexual way. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, but also slip his hands into her panties and-

He smacked his hand over his face, groaning. What had gotten into him all of a sudden, he was acting like some kind of pervert. Feitan never had such a strong reaction to a woman’s touch before.

A knock on the door distracted him from his thoughts. Thankfully his boner had finally gone down, allowing him to answer the door without too much embarrassment.

“Feitan, are you okay? You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

Fuck, he’d gotten her worried over him while he sat in his room jerking off to the thought of her. He sighed, moving past her and walking into the living room.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Oh, did I do something to keep you up last night?”

He paused at this, glancing back at her. “Why you ask?”

“Oh, supposedly I move a lot in my sleep. Sorry, I should have warned you.”

The girl fidgeted with the fabric of her shirt, looking down in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Threw your leg on me and wouldn’t let me go.”

Her face shot up, now as red as him.

“Oh my god, Feitan I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you? Is that why you aren’t feeling well?”

He scoffed and sat down on the couch, crossing his legs. “You can’t hurt me. Light as a feather.”

(Name) leaned over the back of the couch to look at him, still worried. “Are you sure, I know I’m-“

Feitan grabbed her arm and lifted her into the air with ease. He stood, holding her up by her butt and giving her a smug look.

“Light.”

She gasped out in shock, wiggling out of his grasp and falling onto the couch. “Wow… feitan you’re so strong! I mean I already knew you could pick me up but…”

She looked up at him in awe. He hadn’t strained at all when lifting her, as if she was made of air. Feitan couldn’t help but feel a little proud, plopping down on the couch next to her.

“See? No problem.”

It was (Name)’s turn to look confused now. “Then why did you have trouble sleeping if it wasn’t because I was heavy?”

He didn’t answer that one.

——————

The next few days went on the same, with (Name) joining Feitan in his bed at night as the storm raged on. He was slowly getting used to her sleepy cuddles, leaning into it more than he cared to admit.

The sun came out for the first time Monday. A sigh of relief came to (Name)‘s lips when she woke up to clear skies, stretching out across the bed like a cat before waking Feitan up.

“Feitan, the storms gone!”

Feitan grumbled, half awake. “Go back to sleep.”

(Name) gave him a sly smile. “Oh, you want me to cuddle up with you and go back to sleep? As you wish!”

The girl crawled over and attempted to snuggle up into his chest, but was quickly pushed away so hard she went rolling off the bed.

Feitan turned back over and attempted to go back to sleep, but he was now wide awake.

‘How dare she tease me… stupid girl.’

“Feitan..?”

He groaned and turned to look at her, the girl having crawled back into bed.

“What you want?”

She peeked at him, using a pillow to prop herself up. “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

He paused for a moment, then nodded. “In three weeks, boss will come pick me up.”

She looked down, frowning into her pillow. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Feitan sat up. They had caught his full attention.

“Why?”

She played with a loose string coming from the pillow case. “Well… your job is dangerous right?”

Feitan tried to think of how to answer that. Of course his job was dangerous, he risked his life for every mission, but did he want her to worry?

“… it is, but I’m strong. Don’t have to worry about me.”

(Name) sighed, rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. How was he going to tell her they may never see each other again after Chrollo’s questions were answered?

“I think I’ll always worry about you, because you’re important to me.”

Feitan’s resolve began to crumble. How did she always know what to say to pull at his cold heartstrings?

“I…”

Words did not come easily to the black haired man, especially words to explain his affections for her.

(Name) smiled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything that makes you uncomfortable. Just being together with you for the time we have left will be enough for me.”

But it wouldn’t be enough for him. Feitan squeezed her hand back, not able to answer.

In his heart, he knew that she was important to him, someone he couldn’t bear to lose. He just hoped Chrollo would understand that.

They were thieves after all, and who was Chrollo to deny Feitan of something that had caught his eye?

—————

The next week passed by quickly, with (Name) scurrying around in a frenzy. Feitan spent most of his time training to recover his strength, leaving in the morning and returning at night.

He could tell that the girl wanted him there with her more often, but part of him wanted to drift away slowly. Maybe it would make his departure easier on her. After all, their continued friendship wasn’t something that was guaranteed. Chrollo may have said he would owe (Name) a debt, but that didn’t mean Feitan would get to have anything to do with her.

The past two days (Name) had been uncharacteristically quiet, giving him short responses and always in the kitchen.

She was up to something, he just knew it.

As the week ended, Feitan came home near dark to (Name) in the kitchen, hovering over something.

Using In to hide his presence, Feitan snuck up behind her to see what she had been hiding from him.

“What are you hiding?” Feitan whispered into her ear.

The girl jumped up in fright, icing flying from a small piping bag. “Hey! I thought I told you to stop sneaking up on me! I’m gonna pee my pants one day and I WILL make it your problem.”

Feitan rolled his eyes, glancing over her shoulder to peek at what she was making.

It was a small cake, with the words “Happy Birthday Feitan” written in her messy handwriting. He was shocked, physically backing away.

“Why?”

All he could do was ask why. He hadn’t been the kindest to her during her stay, so why did she feel the need to make him such a thing? He couldn’t understand.

“I just felt like it. Everyone deserves to have a day where their birth is celebrated. I’m happy you were born, Feitan.”

So many things were racing through his mind. Him hurting her, the softness of her touch, the way she smiled at him with such love and adoration that it made his stomach hurt. It was all too much.

Feitan was out the door before he could think, slamming it behind him.

Was being with her really worth it? He felt so weak in her presence, like he would do anything she asked of him.

His heart pounded in his chest, tears falling from his eyes as he processed her words.

She was happy he’d been born.

He felt like he was going to throw up. She didn’t know the real him, the Feitan that had killed hundreds and tortured countless more without blinking an eye.

Her Feitan was grumpy and mean sometimes, but she didn’t pay any mind to that.

Would she still wish he’d been born if she knew all the lives he’d snuffed out? Did her care for him outweigh his sins?

He didn’t want to care so much about someone he wasn’t completely sure about.

Then he remembered something (Name) had said to him.

“You’re good enough to me.”

He knew she wasn’t stupid, in fact (Name) was incredibly intelligent, if a bit ditzy at times. She knew he was a thief, and was capable of murder, she’d witnessed him cut off a man’s arm.

Yet (Name) treated him the same.

Part of him wanted to hate her for that. What kind of idiot would allow a man who cut off someone’s arm right in front of her to sleep next to her in bed with no hesitation? It was frustrating. Feitan wasn’t ever supposed to feel this way about a person, his heart had hardened long ago.

But he knew she didn’t care about that. She knew he had done it for her sake, her touch still gentle and kind.

He didn’t need to know if she would still smile at him if she knew his true self. Feitan wanted to be in her presence for as long as possible, soaking in her warmth in hopes to retain some of it in his heart.

‘I want her…”

Feitan paused, blinking. He… wanted her? Why her? What made that girl so special to him?

His heart couldn’t lie and tell him anything but that. He wanted her, and her alone. In his mind she was his, and he was hers.

Feitan turned back around, the soft evening breeze helping to cool him down. He needed to get back to her.

And he knew she’d be there, waiting for his return.

——————

When Feitan got home, she was there. He’d already known she would be, not even having to sense her presence. She was always there, a consistency in his inconsistent life.

The house had been decorated for his birthday, his favorite meal on the table. A few gifts sat next to his birthday cake, wrapped in black wrapping paper with purple bows.

“Happy Birthday Feitan!”

Although he’d been gone for over an hour, (Name)’s smile didn’t lose its shine, only growing brighter when he walked in.

The man didn’t say anything, only sitting down next to her and leaning his head against his shoulder.

Right now, words couldn’t describe how he felt. He could only show his appreciation through actions.

Feitan planted a kiss on her forehead, bringing her in for a hug.

The two didn’t speak, but (Name) did giggle and squeeze him tightly as she did, rubbing soothing circles into his back.

When they broke apart, (Name) looked at him with such love and adoration that Feitan couldn’t help but give her the first smile he’d worn in years. (Name)s eyes widened, her hands gently cupping his cheeks.

“You look nice when you smile, Feitan.”

He wanted to say it was her smile that was beautiful to him, but he only nodded and leaned into her touch, his lips brushing against her hands in a secret kiss.

“Let’s have dinner, yeah?”

The two ate quickly, both excited to eat cake and open presents.

After she sang happy birthday to him, he blew out the candles.

“Make a wish! But remember, you can’t tell anyone what it is, or it won’t come true!”

Feitan closed his eyes, thinking of what he really wanted in that moment.

‘I wish… that I’ll see (Name) again.’

That was the only thing his heart wanted.

After eating their fill of cake and ice cream, (Name) placed the first of the three presents in front of him.

“Go ahead, open it!”

Feitan pulled at the wrapping paper, glancing up at her to make sure he was doing it right. “You’re doing it! Look!”

It was a brand new journal, bound in leather with his name embroidered on the front. The journal would be perfect for keeping track of heists and dates he’d need to meet up with the spiders. It looked expensive.

“How you get this?”

“Oh, I traded some of my jams to a local leather smith! He makes leather bounded journals, and he’s a sucker for homemade goods!”

She plopped the second present into his lap after he set aside the journal.

Feitan opened it up, his face lighting up.

It was the newest volume of the sci-fi manga chrollo had introduced him to so long ago!

“I saw you liked that manga, so I got you the newest volume! You said you were caught up, but I found the author online and saw he would be releasing a volume soon, so I preordered it! You have one of the first copies.”

Feitan held the book to his chest, sighing in contentment.

The last present was opened slowly, Feitan blinking down at it.

It was a dark purple scarf, with a little skull embroidered at the edge.

“I know it’s summer, but since you’re leaving soon I made you a scarf in case you get cold in the winter.”

It was soft, sewn together with love. Feitan also noticed, much to his surprise, that it smelled heavily of her perfume. Had she sprayed it with it?

“Thank you.”

(Name) only smiled in reply, giving him a sideways hug.

The two ended the night by watching a scary movie Feitan had picked out, (Name) nearly jumping into his lap several times. He almost wished she did, wondering if she’d mind something poking into her butt as she straddled him.

(Name) ended up falling asleep before it ended, leaning against Feitan’s shoulder and snoring. He snickered, taking a picture of her messy face and saving it on his phone.

After that, he carried her to her room and tucked her into bed, not able to hold himself back from climbing into bed with her.

It was his birthday, so it wouldn’t be so bad to spend it cuddled up next to the woman he loved, right?

As he drifted off with her right next to him, he imagined a future with her.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

[zweetpea]

Freedom or Anarchy? Part 1 of 2 (hopefully)

You guys wanted this you better read it cw: there’s some swears, and allusion to sleep drugs

The air was so crisp, the so grass vibrant, the sun was warm on your skin as you took in the scenery before you. The crystal blue of Starfell lake was gorgeous, and the fish were flipping about in the water; even the squirrels and Crains seemed at peace. Despite this lovely picture you were panicking.

“Heh, POV got sucked into your favorite video game and you don’t know if you’ll ever get home.” you shrug. “Guess I’ll die!” You walk over to a tree and pull on a branch. “I suppose that I should try to defend myself.”

As you say that three pyro slimes appear and chase you down the hill towards Venti’s Statue. “Hehehe, Why are you running? Why are you running?” You walk up to the statue and touch it, but nothing happens. “Wow! Honestly, I thought as a bard you would understand the mentality of “I F’ed my way into this mess, and I’ll F my way out”. Not gonna give me a vision, a shitty knock off of your power, a sword?” As you sat yelling at a lifeless statue (a/n: WTF WERE YOU THINKING? THAT IT WOULD TALK BACK?!) you heard something coming towards you. You looked to the sky and saw Dvalin flying straight toward you. “Oh shit…” You say as storm terror land next to you and rawrs in your face. “Haha, I’m in danger.” He brings his face towards you and you begin to shake  in fear. “Mr. Stark I don’t feel so good.” You whisper to yourself as tears of fear and regret stream down your face. 

Dvalin inches closer and you close your eyes only to feel something cold and wet on your face. You open your eyes only to close them again as Dvalin licks you. “Ew! Slobber!” He whimpered. You hold your hand out to pet the poor baby. “Oh it’s okay. Just let me clean up first.” You wipe off your face and go back to Dvalin. You go to pet him and a beautiful light shines from your fingers and flows through his fur. 

“Dvalin!” Someone called to him and he picked you with his tail and curled it around you so you’d be hidden and sage as he took to the sky. 

“Wait! Wasn’t that Venti? Don’t you like him?” He took to the sky and bounced you around unintentionally. 

After about 20 minutes you were finally released and found yourself in stormterrors lair. “What have you brought back?” A distorted voice echoed as a cryo abyss mage entered. 

“She is the special. She can heal me.” Dvalin responded. (A/n: do you guys remember that? Dvalin spoke) 

“You fool! Only the abyss Order can save you!” 

As the two fight you try to sneak away but you step on a twig and they look at you. Dvalin quickly pulls you by your hoodie back to his side. “I agreed to help you because the Archons abandoned me as they’ve abandoned you. I still will but it doesn’t seem like you all have found a way to cure me. I need to be at full strength to fight for you.” 

“Dvalin? I thought you liked Venti.” 

“Venti, is that what the barn calls himself now? I used to, I know that he cares for me but he didn’t ever try to help me. I have suffered for 500 years and he now shows his face. Khaenri’ah was destroyed simply because they chose to forsake the Archons. Why should we care for them?” 

You looked down, not knowing what to say. “How am I supposed to help?” You finally said.

“You can heal me.” 

“But if I do, you’ll hurt the innocent people of Mondstadt. Listen, the Tsarista is plotting a rebellion against Celestia. Celestia’s the real villain here.”

“Even so the Archons still chose to destroy Khaenri’ah.” 

“Then take it up with them, please. Those people have nothing to do with it. I’ll help you in anyway I can but please for their sake don’t hurt them. If not for them then for me.” 

“If it’s what the adored one desires then I shall deliver it unto you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked suspiciously. 

“Funny. Now heal him if you REALLY can!” The abyss mage, snarked from the corner. You climbed on top of Dvalin and put your hands on his horn. White light erupted and Dvalin’s head fell to the ground as he’d passed out. You fell off and the abyss mage ran out of the room screaming about how the day of reckoning was upon them or something. You fell asleep nuzzled into Dvalin’s side and dreamt of lots of yummy food. 

When you woke up you found a pyro abyss mage, and hydro abyss mage cooking some kind of fowl meat. Over a makeshift campfire. The pyro abyss mage brings it over to your and the hydro abyss mage hands you the food and some water. “Is this clean?” You ask the two and they nod.  You take the food and water and start to eat. “Thanks.” You say after you’re finished. 

“Dvalin. Do you want to head out somewhere?” 

“Where would you like to go, Adored one?” 

“Would you hate me if I said Dragonspine?” 

“If that’s what you wish.” He picks you up and flies you over there. 

You direct him to a cave in the side of the mountain. 

“Honey! I’m home!” You say as you saunter into the cave. “Albedo? I guess he’s not here.” You say as you turn to leave. 

“Incredible. Stormterror sitting right outside of my Laboratory.” He only roars at the blonde. 

“Sir Albedo?” You inquire as you step out of his lab. You pet Dvalin to put him at ease.

“Hello, may I help you?”

“Sorry I don’t mean to snoop in your lab, I was just wondering if you were here. I have a bit of a conundrum.” 

“You wish to go home.” 

“How did you-” 

“How did I know?” He cuts you off. “I’ll explain in due time. Please step into my laboratory, I’ll get you some tea. Word of advice though, it can get kinda cold out here so you might want to send Stormterror away before he gets cold.” 

Dvalin growled. “I’ll be fine. You can come get me later tonight okay?” He nodded and flew off. It was about noon so you figured that you had a while before the twins would steal the harp and try to take down Dvalin. 

“How did you manage to tame him?” Albedo asked, as you sat on a stool near a campfire. 

“I healed him somehow.” 

“So Gold’s stories were true.” 

“Rhinedottir knows about this?” 

“Yes, she’s the one who told me. Someone would come down from Celestia and they’d tame the beasts of Teyvat as well as the members of the Abyss Order.” He hands you the Tea and you drink it. 

“I still don’t understand how you knew I’m not from here.” 

“I just told you Gold told me you’re from Celestia. Unless of course, you aren’t.” 

“Dvalin referred to me as the Adored One. Do you know what that means?” 

“Adored throughout Teyvat and the realm above. You are the honored one no?” 

“I don’t… what…?” You started to get lightheaded. “Albedo?” You sloshed as you fell off your seat. 

“I’m sorry Adored One, but I have to put Klee first. Now that you’ve heeled Stormterror you’re a threat to the people of Mondstadt. I’m going to hand you over to the knights for terrorism and endangering the public.” 

[hauntedhokage]

Yes, Lord Hokage

Kakashi Hatake/F!Reader

Summary: Kakashi has a need, and it happens to be entertainment from one of his Anbu captains. Cross Posted to AO3

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: uneven power dynamics/play, unprotected sex on his desk, a little bit of dacryphilia, dirty talk, degredation, humiliation, dub!con (because of the power dynamic), mean(ish) dom!Kakashi, m!receiving oral, gagging, choking, breath play, clothed sex, fingering, could be perceived as role play

Note: I haven’t watched far enough to see Kakashi become Hokage for realsies but I know it happens and am obsessed 

The morning had been quiet, something that he’d usually be okay with. Usually being the key word. No fires to put out meant that he had very little to be concerned with aside from the paperwork. No fires also meant that he was quickly growing bored as the morning continued. One of the Anbu teams should be returning soon from a mission, that would be enough to get him through the morning considering the Captain happened to be one of his favorites. 

There was something about how uncertain you still sounded despite being one of the highest ranked shinobi in the village. Maybe it was an authority issue and he was the only recipient of the soft, questioning tones and avoided eye contact. Even behind the fox designed mask he knew you looked to the windows behind him or the desk in front of him when you delivered your reports. It was adorable, really, but also intriguing because you were selected as Captain because of your ability to maintain your composure and command authority. It was probably him, which only added to the interest. You probably didn’t even realize you did it. 

As soon as he’s informed that your team has returned, the summons is sent for the Captain alone to report in. He didn’t need an audience, just his Captain. 

“Lord Hokage.” And there you were, appearing before his desk like the obedient little Anbu that you were. 

“Good morning, Captain,” he greets, watching as you look up from the floor. The mask is in place as he expected. How you loved to hide, which was probably why you performed so well within the Anbu Corps. “Report?”

Your report is about what he’d expected, successful tracking and elimination of the target. One of your team members sustained a serious wound and reported immediately to the hospital for treatment upon return to the village - that part was bothersome but such was the way of life when you were in a tracking and assassination unit. But he’d expected nothing less from your unit, a very accomplished team with an impressive leader, success at any cost was the expectation. 

“Recommended rest period for your unit?” 

“Five days minimum, to give him time to really heal,” you suggest, shoulders relaxing as you move from your spot in front of his desk to stand beside it. “Is there a reason you summoned only me? Usually these are a team affair.”

“I wanted to see my favorite Captain, hopefully on her knees for me while she’s here.” The comment has you pausing, biting your lip as you process that. Here? Now? Where anybody could come in? “I know there’s a pretty face behind that mask, and I’d love to see it.”

“L-Lord Hokage?”

“Humor your Hokage, Captain.” It wasn’t a request, this was an order, and that has you dropping to your knees and removing your mask as he hums. “Oh, there she is, the prettiest shinobi in the village. Shame we hide that face behind a mask all the time.”

Gentle fingers trail along your jaw before he stands, and your eyes stay on his as he squats in front of you. This was your Hokage, your superior, and he was clearly having fun with that fact. 

“The mask has its perks,” you murmur, looking away from his curious gaze to where your mask sat on the floor beside you. 

“It does, I like being the only one who sees how flustered you get in my office when I force you to make eye contact with me. Does the Captain have an authority issue?” The question has your face warming, not sure how he would come to that conclusion while you were literally on your knees in his office, and the not-so-gentle grip on your chin forcing your gaze back up to him tells you that he was definitely going to be enforcing his authority as Hokage this morning. “We can fix that easily, though. Would you like to fix this issue?”

“Yes, Lord Hokage.” You nod to the best of your ability, not wanting to further his perception that you had an issue with his authority. You were certain that you’d more than proven that you were very comfortable with his leadership by serving as one of his Anbu Captains, but maybe not. “I’d do anything to correct this.”

“Anything, hm?” He stands, hands going to his pants and you keep your eyes on his as he pulls his already hard cock out. You don’t know if you should continue to look at his face or his cock, but you open your mouth when he tells you to. “Eyes on mine, Captain. We’re going to work on your eye contact.”

You don’t want to further disappoint your Hokage, keeping your eyes on his face even as he guides himself into your mouth. Holding his eye contact was difficult when he was limiting your ability to breathe, you wanted to close your eyes to better focus on what you needed to ensure that you actually provided decent pleasure to your Hokage. But your order was to keep your eyes open, so they’d stay open even if it hurt.

“Look at you,” he coos, pulling out of your mouth almost completely before he pushes himself back in. The slow pace allowed you to adjust to this intrusion, but the depth that Kakashi pushed for had your eyes welling with tears. The fact that you hadn’t yet gagged was something you were proud of, but you feared what would happen when it finally did. “So eager to comply, so excited for my cock that you’re crying about it.”

You aren’t able to really respond, his hand on your head keeping you in place as he begins to thrust into your mouth at a faster pace. The hand not holding your head rests on your shoulder, and you find a small amount of relief at the connection point that would help keep you in position as he has his way with your mouth. 

“Keep your eyes open, Captain,” he instructs as he stills, his cock practically down your throat and your nose is pressed to the cool fabric of his vest as you continue to stare up at him. “I want to see those pretty tears.” 

It would be easier if you could see his face, so that way you could know if you were actually providing him the pleasure he sought out in teaching you this lesson, but the only mask that had been removed was your own and you felt very exposed without it. His hand moves from your shoulder to pinch your nose closed, and your eyes widen at the blocked airway. Any training you may have sat through didn’t exactly apply to having your Hokage’s dick down your throat, so you really didn’t know what to do here.

“Breathe, Captain,” he requests, releasing the hold on your nose while also fully removing himself from your mouth. “Maybe we need to review the Anbu training, if even a Captain struggles to hold her breath.”

“Forgive me, Lord Hokage,” you breathe out, feeling the shame at having your leader be so disappointed in you. “The situation shouldn’t impact my ability to abide by my training.”

“That’s right, Captain, but you can make it up to me.” How, you don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.

There’s a knock on the door and he pauses, pointing to the space beneath his desk and you move accordingly, watching as he doesn’t put his cock away before he takes his seat. Instead his hand finds the back of your head to bring your mouth back onto his cock and he holds you there as he provides the all clear for the visitor to enter. 

“Lord Hokage, we have the intelligence you requested from that last reconnaissance mission.” 

“Go on.” The fact that he would be willing to accept a mission report while he had your nose pressed to his pelvis and was holding you in place was cruel to you but also very telling. He did not care if there had been a sensory type among the group, able to sense your presence there as well. He was the Hokage, after all, he could do what he wanted, and you were the Anbu Captain whose job was to obey the Hokage.

The growing dampness into your own pants tells you exactly how you’re feeling about the visitors, and you carefully work to remove one of your arm braces and set it aside so you could push your hand into your pants to relieve some of the ache in your own core. You were wetter than you had expected to be, and that made you almost mortified that you had enjoyed being under that desk where all it took was somebody paying attention to their surroundings to realize you were sitting there with the Hokage’s dick down your throat as he continued to work. 

“...I’ll have to escalate this to the Anbu to be dealt with. Thank you, you’re all dismissed.” As soon as the door is closed, his chair is pushed back and you’re pulled from under the desk, only to be pressed against it as Kakashi presses his forehead to yours. “And how wet are you, Captain?”

“I’m very wet, Lord Hokage,” you whisper, keeping your eyes on him even though you so desperately want to look away and hide in your shame. But that wouldn’t do, not when he was so clearly smiling beneath that mask of his at your admission. 

“The thought of being caught under the Hokage’s desk was that thrilling? Quite a naughty young Captain, aren’t you?” It’s a question that needs no answer, he’s pulling at your pants before he’s feeling for himself just how wet you were. An amused hum leaves him, and you’re biting your lip at the feeling of his already slick finger gliding over your clit with just enough pressure to have your eyes fluttering shut. “I said eyes on mine, didn’t I?”

“Yes, apologies M’lord,” you breathe, forcing your eyes open despite the continued teasing of your clit. He’s toying with you in the best way, and your hand grips the desk behind you to keep yourself balanced. 

“If you can’t follow simple orders from your Hokage, should you really be a captain?” 

“T-That’s not- I follow all of your orders!” Your argument has him chuckling as he continues to play with your clit, and you feel yourself growing more upset with how condescending and unfair he was being. 

“And you’re crying again, very cute.” There it was again, the familiar feeling of shame rising one more as his fingers move inside your cunt. This man was degrading you and your work, and you were letting him finger you in his office while he did it. What was wrong with you, you didn’t know. But your Hokage was being very mean and you should have been trying to remove yourself from the situation. Instead you were welcoming it with sustained eye contact and a dripping pussy. “Anbu Captain reduced to tears because her Hokage isn’t being nice? Poor thing.”

The his fingers are gone, his hands are on your hips to turn your body around so that you’re facing the desk and bent over it slightly, with one of the Hokage’s hands remaining on your hip as he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. 

“Don’t cause a scene, Captain,” he warns, and you nod your understanding of the request before he slowly pushes himself in. You bite your lip, hand shooting toward the edge of the desk so you’d have something to hold onto (and accidentally knocking a stack of paper off the desk as you moved). There’s only a chuckle that leaves him as he leans against you, his body over yours, his lips by your ear once more as his hips repeatedly slammed into you. He kept one of his hands on your hip but the other came to rest on your neck to apply just enough pressure so you knew he was in charge here. “You can come whenever and however many times you’d like, that’s not my concern. Understood?”

“U-understood.”

“Understood, who?” A warning squeeze against your throat, and you shut your eyes tightly as you try to refocus yourself on the situation. 

“Understood, Lord Hokage.”

“Better, Captain. Clearly, you’re learning,” The praise has you relaxing against the desk as he continues to thrust into you, you’re sure the desk has nudged forward a couple times against the hard flooring but clearly he cared as much about that as he did the paperwork that continued to fall to the floor. That didn’t matter much to you either, all you could think about was the way his thumb would gently press into your neck every time he bottomed out, the soft grunts and groans of praise in your ear, and how it felt to have the Sixth Hokage fucking you on his desk in the middle of the morning where anybody could barge into his office and find you there. It was all a bit overwhelming but still adding fuel to that fire in your core. 

His hand moves from your hip to your clit and he presses his thumb hard enough to have you biting into your arm hard enough that you were sure you would have bled if not for your sleeve. Your knees buckle, and you collapse against the desk before he pulls out and guides you back onto your knees in front of him. Your eyes meet his again, your unfocused gaze meeting his amused look as he begins to stroke himself. You knew he was close, his hand was focused yet frenzied until finally hot ropes of his cum shoot out and onto your face. You manage to keep your eyes open despite your immediate reflex being to close them, and you earn yourself a gentle hand atop your head while he uses his other hand to fix his pants. 

“You always do so well, Captain.” The praise has you smiling, your eyes fixated on him as he moves to pick your mask up from the floor beside his desk. Your mask is put back on to cover your face and the mess that he’d left on it, and he gives it a gentle tap on the nose before telling you to get home and get some rest. “I expect to see you tonight, am I clear? I don’t think we’ve truly handled this authority issue.”

“Yes, Lord Hokage.” 

A bow and then you’re off, and he’s dropping back into his chair to take in the mess that you’d made of his office. Maybe he should’ve kept the Captain back a few minutes to clean up the mess you’d made, but he couldn’t just summon you back - you’d think you were actually in trouble and he couldn’t have that. 

He’d need a few minutes before he could get that cleaned up, though. 

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hey nalyra!

I was hoping you could sort of help put some thoughts in order.

So, what I keep seeing often is the discourse of lestat deserving the murder night vs lestat did not deserve it and that's why paris happens.

On one hand I agree murder night "needed" to happen bc the household had turned too toxic for all of them and something had to give ( and lestat did not seem about to relent on anything tbh ).

And then we have lestat himself saying he would have done the same thing and in a way its his fault things ended up the way they did. ( and we have sam saying lestat needs to be humbled to start a character journey in the next seasons)

On the other hand, there is the argument that paris happened because lestat did not deserve what happened in murder night and murder night was a mistake that claudia and louis paid for with the trial.

I find it hard to agree with the latter (it sounds too punitive and I don't think the trial had anything to do with actual rules it was all armand getting back at lestat and getting louis to himself) but as a lestat fan it was hard to watch murder night and say lestat deserved it as well!!

What are your thoughts on this whole mess? 🤔 😅

Okay, so... I personally think it is not that clear cut.

Because there are a lot of things involved in all of this.

For one - I keep saying - the abuse itself is in the book, so Louis did experience it as abuse, at least at times.

Now, Jacob has said that Louis "presents Lestat as a monster", because he is hurt by what happened. So Louis exaggerates (at the very least a little bit) - for reasons.

However, a tale is also always built on truth.

The Lestat in the book was very young still, and had a temper (well, he does not lose that, lol). Louis remarks on not saying something because he feared Lestat would destroy the parlor in a rage. They fight. And so on. Canon. The Lestat in the show is older, and jaded through loneliness - I personally think that is a great way to introduce the more bitter parts of the relationship, because it lends towards possessiveness and a certain remoteness, because he just sees it very, very differently to Louis, and sometimes cannot really empathize with Louis' actual problems. (Sam notes on that in the podcast, too.)

Now. When Lestat says in TVL that Claudia attacking him was "something he might have done himself"... then that refers to him trapping her in a too small, too fragile, too weak body - for eternity.

He knows he should not have made her. He is aware of that. That is what he refers to there:

From TVL:

But what had I done to Claudia? And when would I have to pay for that? How long was she content to be the mystery that bound Louis and me so tightly together, the muse of our moonlit hours, the one object of devotion common to us both? Was it inevitable that she who would never have a woman's form would strike out at the demon father who condemned her to the body of a little china doll? [...] And on a warm sultry night in the spring of the year 1860, she rose up to settle the score. She enticed me, she trapped me, and she plunged a knife over and over again into my drugged and poisoned body, until almost every drop of the vampiric blood gushed out of me before my wounds had the precious few seconds in which to heal. I don't blame her. It was the sort of thing I might have done myself. And those delirious moments will never be forgotten by me, never consigned to some unexplored compartment of the mind. It was her cunning and her will that laid me low as surely as the blade that slashed my throat and divided my heart. I will think on those moments every night for as long as I go on, and of the chasm that opened under me, the plunge into mortal death that was nearly mine. Claudia gave me that.

From Merrick:

Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle; she died young. I winced at the recollection. Lestat had been condemning himself when he'd spoken those words to her, he'd been offering himself up to her rage. She'd known it.

And here is the crux of it all: "murder night" does need to happen in the grand scheme of things in order to bring both Louis and Lestat onto their journey... they both need to get a reality check, both need to be hauled low so to speak to be able to ultimately heal and the justification is what was done to Claudia (not Louis). And to find peace with themselves.

However, and here is the "problem", if you will - this crime against nature, against Claudia was not only done by Lestat. And that is what her diary entry from "Merrick" is about, and what I believe we already saw hints for in the trial scene when she turns to Louis... Claudia blamed both. "It was never about me." And we saw that already in the show when Claudia argues with Louis before leaving in episode 5, too.

She decided to go and try to kill Lestat, because she thought she could handle Louis more easily.

From Merrick:

To do away with Louis would be foolish, as he is without question the more malleable of the pair. [...] Louis will do as I wish, even unto the very destruction of Lestat, which I plan in every detail. Whereas Lestat would never cooperate with my designs upon Louis. So there my loyalty lies, under the guise of love even in my own heart.

Now, don't get me wrong, I concur with Bailey and Delainey in that Claudia is very justified in her rage, imho :) And... both Lestat and Louis feel the same way, they carry the guilt of what they did to her until the very end.

Now, Paris.

Paris... did happen because Louis and (mostly) Claudia factoring things in) did make a mistake.

They thought (mostly Claudia, and the show hints at that in that episode 6 sex scene when she says to Louis that they "cannot be all like him") that Lestat was the worst.

Like the big bad vampire™, the worst of the worst™, and him (certainly) making mistakes or having a temper or even physically fighting with Louis was the absolute worst that could possibly happen to them.

And that... is the (big, fatal) mistake that is being made.

The show gave us Lestat already brushing Paris off, so I believe show Louis will be a bit more... careful when they get there. A bit more reluctant. Nonetheless, neither Claudia nor Louis are prepared for the old world covens. Or their rules.

Lestat kept them mostly human, a family, because Marius had advised him to do so.

Claudia and Louis, despite their run-ins with the revenants, have no concept of the rules, the viciousness, nor the strength to defend themselves.

They kill off their only protection (so to speak) - and will pay for it.

I believe in one of the interviews it was called "out of the frying pan and into the fire", and that is, unfortunately, very fitting.

That is why "murder night" was a mistake... in Claudia's calculation.

Louis will come to the realization that he "hated Lestat for the wrong reasons" in the second half of IWTV. He will come to a lot of realizations, painful realizations, unfortunately.

Ultimately, it boils down to this, I think (very simplified):

No, Lestat (probably) did not deserve "murder night" for what Louis tries to argue for in s1. Because those reasons will turn out to be the wrong reasons, unfortunately, and likely for a variety of reasons (cue "tinkering" and "suppressed memories")

Yes, Lestat (probably) deserved "murder night" for not heeding Marius' warning. For not trying hard enough, too, maybe. For condemning someone that young. For trapping Claudia (and, by extension Louis) like that.

"I should have listened to Marius's warning. I should have stopped for one moment to reflect on it as I stood on the edge of that grand and intoxicating experiment: to make a vampire of "the least of these. " I should have taken a deep breath."

But he did not.

And the tragedy unfolds.

[rxvera]

i hear you have aizawa headcanons? 👀

OMG I thought you would never ask!! 🥰

First of all, and most obviously, he's an AMAZING dad. Before the Kira case, he showed up for everything, and took as much paternity leave as he could. During the case, he obviously struggles with work-life balance, but he knows his kids come first. I think before the time skip, he had a really hard time missing out. He hated how much he was gone, but he also struggles with the guilt of feeling like he abandoned Ukita, but as he heals his grief, he accepts that he can be there. And soon, he's there at almost every game, performance, concert, play, you name it. If he's not, Eriko is recording it for him. He's also the kind of dad to pack his kids' favorite lunches when he gets the chance. It doesn't matter how unhealthy they are, Aizawa just wants to see them happy. Eriko is a little annoyed when Yumi comes home with Cheeto fingers and a stomach ache though lol.

Speaking of Eriko, I know this is super niche, but I head canon her as Jewish. I know that's super rare in Japan, but as a part-Asian Jew, I love the mix lol. I imagine her making matzo ball ramen and lox sushi! I think Aizawa, while goyische, is super supportive. He's great on Shabbat. On Saturday, he makes breakfast before the kids and Eriko wake up so they can have something warm without needing to use appliances. Although, even after being married for ten years, he still forgets if shrimp is kosher, but he remembers when Eriko gets mad at him for putting his leftover tempura in the fridge ("I accepted a trief husband, but I will not accept a trief house!!!").

Oh and I totally imagine Matsuda making quite a few blunders about this hfkjdfhjdjk. He means well, but it comes out wrong sometimes. Like the first time he learns she's Jewish, he immediately says "Oh so that's why you guys never hosted the Christmas party" and Soichiro is quick to be like "MATSUDA." He definitely accidentally gifts Eriko a pentagram... Twice. He really did his research the second time, but they look so similar!!! He does finally get her a Magen David the third time though lol.

I also think Aizawa is a car guy, like the kind of car guy who can see a single frame of a car go past in a movie and identify the make, model, and, year. He's always browsing those vintage car auction sites and he regularly shows Eriko the old car he desperately needs, and she has to be like "your money needs to go feeding our children and not a 50 year old car" and he's like a little kid when he says "but I waaaaaaaant it," and I definitely think he takes Yumi to cars and coffee with him. He always gets her a pastry and hot chocolate. She always wants to try his coffee and every time she freaks out at how bitter it is, but he has such an emotional moment when he takes her as a teenager and she orders her own coffee, and he's like "my little girl is growing up 🥺."

And, going back in time a little bit, when Eriko is pregnant with Yumi, I don't imagine Aizawa being super open about it since he prefers to keep his work and private life more separate. So, it's not until his wife is like 8 and a half months pregnant that he goes to Soichiro to ask for paternity leave, and Soichiro is like "YOU'RE HAVING A BABY???? YOU'RE MARRIED???" and he gets absolutely peppered with questions and excitement that he has to awkwardly accept from the whole office before he gets his paternity leave approved lol.

That's just a few of my ideas! Let me know if you'd like to hear some more! I'm always up to chat about my Death Note guys!

[a-french-coconut]

Part 2 (Will Solace)

Will wakes up tired.

The sun greets him as usual but there is... a coldness that has never been there before. No matter how much he exposes himself to the sunlight, he can't shake the feeling that he isn't receiving enough solar energy.

His father must be going to a rough time.

It's not like he needs the boost of energy the sun gives him in the morning, coffee is more than enough, but he appreciates it. He'll just have to do without.

As head counsellor and main healer, Will spends most of his time in the infirmary, sometimes helped by Austin and Kayla. However, today he is alone and growing grouchy every time a camper enters with an injury.

A sprained ankle, second degree burns, dislocated shoulder, broken arm.

Will deals with this daily, he knows how to heal any of those and without problem. And he still does.

But gods does it exhaust him.

It's not supposed to. After years of honing his skills, broken bones are not the challenge they used to be.

Except for today and it's getting on his nerves. He makes back-handed comments to those coming to the infirmary, leaving them and himself bewildered.

Sure he is not always the sunny happy-going healer Camp knows but he enjoys healing.

Something is definitely wrong with him.

It has to be the lack of sun, he doesn't see any other explanation.

He stayed in the infirmary until after dinner, taking Kayla's late night shift after her sister promised him she would do the morning one.

There's no one except him, all campers are enjoying the bonfire.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock

Will watches the clock, waiting until it indicates 9pm and he can get out of there and in his warm bed.

He already made all the beds, rearranged in alphabetical order all the salves and medicines in the cabinet and looked randomly in the campers' files to find some interesting facts (he finally understand why Clarisse was always in a sour mood before leaving for college : being allergic to strawberries here sucks).

Will is bored out of his mind and ready to dash out of here.

Only ten more minutes.

He takes a bandage's roll and mindlessly put in on his arms, humming a tune his mother taught him.

Eight minutes.

He shoots darts at random objets, sometimes (mostly) missing.

Four minutes.

The door opens and Miranda Gardiner walks in, looking at him strangely.

He supposes he deserves it. As last form of entertainment, he resulted to stick the most ridicules band-aids he had to his face. Maybe not the brightest idea but sue him, he was bored.

The clock chimes, indicating the sweet moment of release except he can't really say to Miranda to wait until next morning.

"Hi Miranda, how can I help you ?"

He must be rocking the professional look, Hello Kitty, Minions and Rarity adorning his face.

"Hum, my head is hurting and I'm sweating. I thought that maybe I had fever and you could check ?"

Will groans internally. If Miranda happens to have fever, she'll have to stay the night. Which implies he also has to stay to monitor her.

"Sure, let me see."

He takes her hand and concentrates.

He can feel the blood flowing in her veins, and most importantly he can feel the immune system kicking in. She does have fever.

Will's eyes twitch.

"Bad news: you have a small fever. Good news: I can just heal you and we both can return to our very comfortable, cosy, plushy, and hum, luxurious beds !"

He completes his rather convincing argument if he says so himself with a bright smile.

Miranda just looks at him with concern.

He could heal her with traditional hymns to his father but he frankly does not want to. Fever is a sickness and so he'll get rid of it much faster with his sickness powers.

A flawless logic his father would proud of.

Hey Raz, I know I never ask you anything but could you heal this girl's fever ? I really need to sleep right now and that's not happening if I have to stay up all night surveying her.

Radio silence.

Will frowns, his little own personal plague spirit always took the chance to talk.

Raz ? You there ?

Still no voice in his mind. It's silent.

Will's mind is never silent. There is always a background noise, a buzzing indicating the presence of another spirit.

A buzzing, Will realises with panic, that has not been present since he woke up this morning tired.

"Hum Will ? You good ?"

Ah yes, Miranda.

"Obviously I'm good ! I'm great even, everything's peachy and sunny and I just have to, I have to, hum, look at your file ! Yes that's it and write down your fever you know ? Because I need to keep track of what happens to you guys !"

Without waiting a response to his disastrous rambling, Will locks himself with the files.

Raz is not responding.

He's been feeling down since he woke up.

He has not been receptive to the sun as if...

As if a part of him was not there to capture the solar energy.

Oh no, no, no, no, no, this can't be happening !

There is no way he's that unlucky.

Ten years of hiding his little secret so that no one knows the wickedness he has inside him.

Ten years of suppressing every pulsing of rage and wrath, cumulating power or power doing so, until it burns below his skin, the plague begging to be released.

If he has no control anymore over Raz and she decides to cause a little chaos...

Okay relax Will, she would start with something small right ? Like a cold, a fev...

"Will everything's okay in there ?"

His eyes widens and he bolts out of the files room, surprising Miranda who is beginning to look very concern about his mental health. He looks at her straight in the eyes and with the most casualness he can muster, aks her :

"Did a little girl touch you today ?"

The daughter of Demeter seems considering now to put in an asylum.

"An unknown little girl, about five years old ? Brown eyes and braids ?" he specifies.

"Huh maybe ? But what does she have to do with my-"

"Forget it, I'm just tired and blabbering nonsense."

Fortunately she doesn't push. It would be hard to announce her that a plague spirit is wandering within Camp borders and possibly infecting everyone she touches.

He heals her quickly, burning all the energy he had left and goes back to his cabin.

He may have had a panic attack on the way but nothing he couldn't handle really.

He's fine.

Totally fine.

Raz is not going to leave his mind until he's one foot in the grave when he catches her.

part 3 and 4 posted !