#nnt oneshot

[jupitermchai]

NNT Pride Day One - Red

Hi folks!! This is my first entry for the NNT Pride event, albeit a little sad. I hope you enjoy, Happy Pride!!

the art of desire (my only desire is you)

It was like any other book. The leather-bound book stood perched on his desk among the many assignments Meliodas had yet to sign. On the outside it looked normal, and for a few weeks, Meliodas assumed it was any other book.

But when he opened the cover, he recognized the colorful pages immediately. It was his art book!

Oh, Meliodas hasn’t drawn in ages. The sight of the tanned leather made his heart leap, and he was perched on his desk seat in an instant. The assignments were discarded on the floor, left forgotten as Meliodas carded through his old drawings and sketches.

Most were of Elizabeth before their marriage but there were a couple landscapes sprinkled in: between his newly-wed wife and the land, Meliodas was more akin to the former.

He plucked a piece of charcoal from the desk drawer and flipped to the last page. It was empty, just as he remembered, and he readied the charcoal in his hands. Then, almost instantly, Meliodas was reminded of why he hadn’t drawn in so long.

Meliodas didn’t know what to draw. There were many things he could sketch: landscapes, his comrades, Elizabeth; nothing seemed to be fitting for the end of this sketchbook. Then, another realization dawned on him: looking through the worn pages was like reading a story. In the beginning, there was a family portrait of Meliodas’ family in the demon realm and closer to the end, there was a group portrait of all the sins. Meliodas tapped his chin in thought. He made up his mind on the matter - “This was a book that documents my life, after all” - and the charcoal finally began to move.

Soft scratches filled the room as the charcoal glided across the paper. Black bled onto the creamy sheets of parchment, outlining the curve of a face. The remaining sunlight cascaded like an orange blanket over the valley of Liones and poured into the room, illuminating the paper as he worked. Soon, the moon burst through the thicket of clouds as darkness washed over the plains. Crickets chirped in the blades of thick blue-grass, yet Meliodas surged forward. Planets collided in his mind. Colors and shapes molded to create perfect harmony filled with adoration.

Meliodas ran out of breath as he finished. Had he held his breath the entire time? The man couldn’t tell. Despite the tightness in his chest and the burning in his face, the blonde man lifted the book from the desk to examine the marked paper.

No words could describe the tingling in his fingertips as he stared at his work. It was Elizabeth, Tristan, and him, but the meaning was so much deeper than a family portrait. Each curve, line, and shadow displayed his unwavering fervor for the woman and child he held so dearly to his heart. Their smiles were real, this family was his new reality.

Choked by his own tears, Meliodas pushed away from his desk. The finality, the pure nature of this life, made Meliodas’ heart stutter. This was everything he had hoped for - she was everything he hoped for. The fleeting moments of pain during those thousands of years were worth it. This family was worth it.

Deep in dusk, the great King of Liones wept tears of joy, for his heart held nothing but pure, unfiltered love. For his country, but also for the time he spent fighting for those he loved.

[bluebirdsboi]

Guide

Hey there, I’m Jay (he/they). Welcome to my fanfic blog! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My main motivation for making my blog is because I’ve noticed a lack of male reader and/or gender neutral reader works for many of the characters that I love, but also because writing is one of my favorite pastimes.

I won’t lie, I do tend to oscillate between characters and fandoms that I’m motivated to write for, but I will try my best to maintain or improve the quality of each piece that I write. 

Below I have linked my masterlist navigation in addition to the fandom and character list as well as listing my request guidelines, fandoms I’m most motivated to write for at the moment, characters that are on hold (characters I will write for in the future but I’m not at the moment), future fandoms that I will write for, and a list of my current WIPS for any requests you may have.

** I’ve opened a taglist, so if you want to be tagged in any future fics, feel free to send me either an ask or a DM **

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Links

Masterlist Navigation

Fandom/Character List | Last Updated: 7/11/24

Fanfic Recs. | Last Updated: 7/29/23

My second blog My AO3 My Wattpad

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Most Recent Work: Dawn | 18+ | 7/30/24

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Currently, requests are: Closed

Request Guidelines 

I will write...

- Male Character x Male/Gender Neutral Reader - Female Character x Female Reader by request only - Platonic relationships - Parent Character x Child Reader (purely familial)  - Sibling Character x Sibling Reader (purely familial) - Fluff, Angst, Hurt Comfort, and Smut (any character that is under 18 will be aged up to be over 18. Ex: Pro-Hero!Izuku or Pro-Player!Daichi) - Songfics and some AUs (just ask) - Series, Oneshots, Headcanons, and Alphabet Headcanons

I won’t write...

- Male Character x Female Reader - Female Character x Male Reader - Ships - Yandere fics - Pedophilia and Underage Smut - Incest of any kind - Forced sex - Pregnancy and/or period fics

* If you have any questions about something I didn’t list, don’t be afraid to ask. My DMs are always open in case I close my asks. *  

** As a side note, I’d appreciate any requests to have a general idea about what you want. It doesn’t have to be extremely specific, but just something to work with. ** 

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Fandoms I’m most motivated to write for: | Last Updated: 7/11/24

- 9-1-1/9-1-1 Lone Star - The Last of Us - MCU - Spider-verse

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Fandoms I will write for in the future: | Last Updated: 7/11/24

- Game of Thrones - Kingsman - Narcos - Scenes From a Marriage - Snake Eyes - The Witcher

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Current WIPS: | Last Updated: 7/3/23

- Clint Barton x Male Reader - Iroh II x Male Reader  - Zuko x Male Reader - Tonraq x Male Reader (Will contain NSFW) - Mako x Male Reader  - Tonraq x Male Reader (Will contain NSFW) - Zuko x Male Reader - Iroh II x Male Reader - Mako x Male Reader - Keishin Ukai x Male Reader

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Characters currently on hold: | Last Updated: 7/11/24

- Clark Kent (Henry Cavill) (DC) - Gyomei Himejima (Demon Slayer/KNY) - Konro Sagamiya (Fire Force/ENS) - Atsumu Miya (Haikyuu!!) - Kita Shinsuke (Haikyuu!!) - Osamu Miya (Haikyuu!!) - Remus Lupin (David Thewlis) (Harry Potter) - Screwllum (HSR) - Estarossa/Mael (SDS/NNT) - Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars)

[laceymorganwrites]

Number 7 with Ban x reader!:D

A/N: this is roughly 1,000 words of a fluffly sick fic! sorry it took so Long but i hope you enjoy anyway! 

Prompt: “Please, just kiss me already!”

You hated being sick. It ruined all plans you had for the day, the most important thing was your date with Ban.

It wasn´t so bad you thought at first, until you dropped down like a fly.

Ban had to carry you to your room and you were very embarrassed by that, you hated feeling weak and useless.

He tucked you in when you were lying in bed, making sure you were warm and cozy.

“Ban, I´m not that sick, we can still go on our date” you tried to say, pretending to be in perfect health. But all that came out were weak whines.

“Don´t overexert yourself, babe. Dates are more fun when you´re better” Ban smiled at your red, puffy face.

You coughed and sniffed as you noticed a burning headache forming.

Frowning Ban placed his hand on your forehead to check if you had a fever.

“Your temperature isn´t so good… you should rest and sleep much, I´ll bring you cold water to drink and some tea for the throat.” he sighed and his red orbs were filled with concern.

“If you´re not feeling better by tomorrow, I´ll have to get meds for you” he gently caressed your face before he left to the kitchen.

Instead of just water and tea, Ban also prepared some soup, he knew you weren´t hungry, but you still had to have something in your stomach.

You were fast asleep when he came back to your room, he had to smile to himself.

Ban sat next to you in bed and gently woke you up.

“´s it morning already?” you slurred, making Ban giggle a bit. Why did you have to be so cute?

“Not yet, sweetheart. I made you some soup, you need to eat. And drink the tea and water I brought” he stated, but his breath got stuck in his throat when he saw how pale you were and how weak your hands were, they were even shaking.

“Never mind that, I´ll feed you” he slowly put the cup of tea against your lips and made sure you emptied the cup.

You didn´t have the energy to complain, you were completely drained, your lips were dry and chipped, your circulation was basically not existent.

So Ban also led the spoons of soup to your mouth until you ate it all up, he made sure of that.

Finally he made you drink your water and then left you to sleep again.

You complained a bit, since you wanted him to stay with you, but then again, you didn´t want him to get sick as well.

The next morning you still felt terrible, as you wanted to call out to Ban nothing came out.

After your head complained not to sit up, you did it anyway to look around the room. The sun was out already, making your head hurt even more.

On your nightstand Ban had left a note that he went out to get you some medicine and would be back soon.

He also left you some breakfast and water, which you ate and drank even though you weren´t hungry.

You went back to sleep after you finished and woke up to soft footsteps. Ban had returned.

“Shit, did I wake you?” he looked at you apologetically, but sighed relieved when you shook your head.

“You feeling better?” he asked and sat down next to you with a glass of water in his hand.

You shook your head again and Ban took out the medicine he bought.

“Here, you gotta take these for a week, the doctor said” Ban explained.

“I don´t wanna!” you whined, you hated taking meds.

“Am I gonna have to force feed them to you?” Ban scolded you.

“But they´re so disgusting!” you pleaded, making Ban chuckle.

“They´ll make you feel better, trust me” he gave you the meds and made sure you took all of them.

Luckily you were too worn out to fight and indeed, the medicine really helped a bit.

After a few other days of Ban taking care of you lovingly you were finally feeling like yourself again.

“Ban! I feel better now” you jumped out of bed to search for him.

You found him in the kitchen where he was preparing lunch for all the sins.

He briefly looked up at you with a raised brow before going back to his cooking.

“I don´t know, (Y/N). Are you sure about this? I don´t want you to feel bad again tomorrow, you should get more rest. Just to be sure” he warned you. Whenever he got sick and thought he felt better, it just hit him like a brick the next day.

He didn´t want the same thing to happen to you.

“I mean it! We can finally go on our date now. You can kiss me again, see?” you came up to him and wanted to give him a kiss but he backed away.

“(Y/N), I don´t know if this a good idea right now, I don´t want to get infected” Ban mumbled, he really couldn´t use being sick right now. It was more than enough when one of you was sick, he could only imagine the pain of both of you being sick at the same time.

You frowned and pouted, looking down at the floor sadly and letting your shoulders hand.

Sighing you walked out of the kitchen.

“But I don´t have a temperature anymore, I don´t even have to cough anymore, my nose´s free too, breathing´s normal. Everything´s fine...” you grumbled.

“(Y/N), wait. I´ll check the temperature for you” Ban followed you and laid his hand on your forehead, before he smirked.

“Seems fine to me. I think you´re really all better now” Ban said in a teasing tone before leaning in, but not quite enough to kiss you.

And when you tried to lean in too, he still backed away, but this time in a teasing matter.

“Are you really sure it´s okay to kiss you right now?” Ban chirped, smirking at you.

“Please, just kiss me already!” you started whining, it was frustrating to not get and give any affection when being sick.

“Alright, alright….” he chuckled, cupping your face gently and softly pressing his lips to yours before pulling away way too early.

“Ban!” you yelled at him frustrated.

“Sorry, baby, we can´t take any risks now, can we? Better safe than sorry” he winked at you before escaping into the kitchen.

[nightqueen1221]

Hello! Do you write for SDS? If so can I request a Meliodas x slightly feminine male reader? Y/n works really hard to host a birthday party for Meli since he never had a birthday party before. He works overtime to earn money to rent out a building, he spends the night baking and decorating. But on the day of the party, someone wanting revenge on Meliodas destroys everything Y/n worked on and Y/n gets severely hurt. When Meliodas finds him he keeps apologizing saying he wasn't strong enough and ruined his birthday. How would Meliodas react to Y/n wanting to celebrate his birthday, how would he comfort Y/n and how would he deal with the person? Can it be in one shot form, please? Sorry if this is too much, you don't have to do this if you don't want to! Please take care :))

Sorry I couldn't get this out any early. I was a bit busy.

    Today was the day, Meliodas's Birthday. You had been working for about a week on this project. By working overtime at your job to afford everything, having the other sins and Elizabeth help you in planing. It was finally ready.

    You, Elizabeth and Gowther did the decorations. Ban helped you in cooking.(He did most of the work) King help choose a place that was big enough for the party, but also had big enough windows so Diane could still be apart of it. Hawk was there for moral support.

    The cake was the last part of the surprise. You and Ban stayed up late at night to get it finished. He did most of the cooking while you did most of the decoration.

    "Think the Cap'n will like it?" Ban said looking at the decorated room after leaving the kitchen with you.

    "Of course he will. I think he'll like anything that we spent our time and money on." You said as you looked up at Ban while speaking.

    "Well, he better like it, this took forever!" Hawk exclaimed in-between you two. "Even if I didn't really do anything, it was tiring."

    After saying goodnight to Ban and making your way up to your room with Meliodas sitting on the bed. He heard the sound of you walk in and turned his head to face you.

    "Where were you?" He asked.

    "You'll see in the morning ok? Come on, lets get to bed. I want you to be well rested for tommorow." You confessed. You lightly pushed him on to the bed with your hands, pulling the blanket over you two. You pulled his body close and embraced him with your arms. He was curious on what you ment by, "you'll see", but dicided not to think of it to much because he trusted you.

    Little did anyone know, someone had different plans. They somehow knew you would be having a party and dicided to get revenge on the sins. By the time the person had left, you would have been lucky if anything was still left and able to be used.

    The next morning, no one had suspected a thing. Everything was going swimmingly that day. You wanted the party to be in the after hours so everyone could get drunk and not face any charges. An hour before the party, you made the choice to go and check if everything was ok.

    Only to be met face to face with a disaster. The tables and chairs were broken. The cake was everywhere except where is was supposed to be. The windows were broken, and the decorations had been torn down. Knowing you had only an hour left, panic set in. Rushing back to try and grab anyone to help you. Diane was the first person you saw.

    "Diane! Diane!" Hearing your voice and seeing you wanted her attention, she leaned down to hear what you had to say.

    "Eh? What is it?" She whispered looking at you. You could see her expression change when you said the party had been destroyed. She than said she would get everyone to try and help bring it back together.

    Running back to the building, you tried to clean up as much as you could. Before you knew it, the hour had passed and no one came though the door. Thinking something was wrong now that time was up, you go to open the door. Standing at the door was everyone, including Meliodas.

    Not knowing what to say, you freeze. You try and find the right words but nothing comes out.

    "I'm sorry." Diane says getting as close to the door as she could. "But we couldn't get here in time." Hearing the disappointment in her voice, made you feel pity in her more than yourself.

    "Look Meliodas, we tried throwing a party for your birthday and... I'm sorry we don't know how or why but the place got destroyed overnight. I'm sorry I tried my best to get everything back together but it just-" You where cut off by Meliodas pulling you over and into a hug.

    "Thank you, for even trying." He muttered. "And you don't have to apologize, it's not your fault."

    "Man, they didn't leave a thing left." Ban coughed in the tense moment. "Look if you still want us to, we could try and still have the party, it just won't be a surprise." You looked up at Ban after hear what he had to say.

    "Yeah, I-I guess." You said disappointed. You still had wanted it to be a surprise, but this will do. While everyone cleaned up, you and Ban remade the cake.

    "Thank you." You said. "For pulling us all back together like that."

    "Huh? Oh that, don't worry about it. It was nothing. And besides, someone had to say it sooner or later. The tension in that room was getting too high for it to be comfortable." Ban replied.

    After that everyone gathered together and partied, it was one of the happiest times you've seen Meliodas. Either he was happy to celebrate or he was drunk. Most likely both. Anyways, Meliodas spoke to you as you were getting ready for bed that night.

    "Why did you want to celebrate my birthday anyway?"

    "Because you said you never had before. Also because I care about you." He looked away, but you could still see his smile. As you say on the bed he pulled you close.

    "I love you" was all that was softly spoken.

    "I love you too." You smiled and slowly drifted off to sleep.

    As for the person who was out for revenge. No one knows what happened to them or where they are. It's almost like they disappeared off the face of the Earth.

[chaotic-king-arthur]

peanut butter sandwiches

The fair weather drew Merlin from her lonesome house, the sun streaming through the partly cloudy sky, with a chill nipping the air. She wore a long, deep indigo trench coat, with faux-fur adorning the collar and cuffs of her sleeves, the fur on the collar brushing against her sharp jawline.

Her mind raced as she strolled down in the direction of the park, her eyes narrowly inspecting the surrounding area as she walked stoically. Her week had been busy, her previous days packed with teaching and tutoring her students. She was a teacher at the local high school, Camelot Prep, her job as a chemistry teacher often keeping her more occupied than one might think. She rarely had time to herself between grading assignments and tending to student’s needs, as well as creating her lesson plans and whatnot. To anyone else, it would have been severely stressful, but to Merlin, it was barely an inconvenience.

Today would be different. This break was hard for her to take, but she knew that in the end, it would be well-deserved. She had been up early in the morning grading projects, but she finally found the opportunity to get some fresh air and explore the town.

She was initially thinking of running some errands, but she was drawn to the park instead. It wasn’t crowded at all, with a few people scattered about the grassy meadows. There were a few parents with their giggling children, and a few loners like herself, but otherwise the area was mostly barren. She took a seat on a bench, leaning back to methodically inspect the surrounding area.

A light, tentative tap on her leg drew Merlin from her flurry of thoughts, her narrow, golden eyes widening as she redirected her gaze to the young child that stood in front of her.

He was a small, innocent looking boy, with almost feminine looking features adorning his face. His spiky, ginger hair was rather messy, with a cowlick sticking out over his forehead. The most memorable part of him were his round, sparkling violet eyes, filled with curiosity and charm.

He was holding something out to her, a half of a sandwich. It smelled strongly of peanut butter, which she would usually have refused. He must have noticed that she was alone, because If it weren’t for the fact that it was a child that was offering it to her, she wouldn’t have taken it from his hand.

“Oh..thank you?” She responded softly, a small smile upturning the corners of her lips. She was put off by the boy’s silence, only receiving a blank stare in return.

Merlin regarded him with a look of gentle confusion as he took a seat beside her on the bench, still holding the other half of the sandwich. He was silent when he took a bite, a bit of the peanut butter smudging on the corner of his mouth. He looked somewhat familiar to her, but she couldn’t put a finger on where she’d seen him before. Her job didn’t involve seeing children as young as he was, but she certainly had a soft spot for little children. She took a bite from the sandwich, chewing slowly as she appraised him with concern.

“Hello?” She quizzically called out to him, trying to get his attention, although he didn’t seem to hear, the absent look on his face unchanging. She waved her hand in another attempt, which somehow worked this time. He turned his gaze towards her, brows raised blankly.

Tentatively, she signed out, “Can you speak?” She knew many languages, one of those including sign language. She hadn’t used it in a rather long time, so she was certainly a bit rusty.

The boy’s eyes brightened, a rosy look appearing on his face in relief and joy- like he’d never met someone who understood sign language before. He carefully signed back to her. “No.” He took another bite of his sandwich, then continued. “Deaf. Can’t talk.” He tried to be quick, but his hands trembled like he was nervous. She could tell that he wasn’t as experienced with sign language.

Oh. She thought briefly, her expression softening with concern for this mysterious young boy. She wasn’t as concerned about that, as she was with the fact that there wasn’t a parent in sight that was watching over him. He couldn’t have been alone, could he?

“Are you here alone?”

He didn’t respond at first, as if he weren’t sure how to answer. “Yes.”

She tilted her head with inquiry. “Where are your parents?”

He looked around, letting out a long, slow sigh. The once bright look on his face dimmed significantly. He was still for a moment, before shrugging distantly. His posture slumped, taking a final bite of his food.

Sympathetically, Merlin put a gentle arm around the boy. He nearly flinched when she did, so she pulled her arm away. She should’ve asked him first..why didn’t she think that through?

The boy seemed to be able to tell that she felt guilty, quickly signing to her, “It’s okay. Just surprised. It’s okay.”

Merlin brought her arm around him again, and he used this invitation to lean against her side. He seemed so much smaller in this position, somehow. She could feel this little boy’s fear radiating off of him, his hands wrapping around her abdomen. He was so small that he could barely get his arms around the circumference of her waist, gripping to her like a leech. He must’ve been unaware that he was alone until she brought it up.

“What is your name?” She signed to him, being deliberately slow in order to make sure he understood what she was saying.

“Arthur.” He spelled out, mouthing along as he finger-spelled his name.

“My name is Merlin,” She promptly signed back. “It’s nice to meet you, Arthur.”

“You too.”

Arthur kept his eyes locked with Merlin’s, gazing up at her as he embraced her once again. He burrowed himself against her, finding comfort in her arms despite the fact that they had only recently met. Nevertheless, she did appreciate his company. He must’ve understood what it was like to feel lonely, despite how young he was.

They sat in comfortable silence, with Arthur’s eyes fluttering shut occasionally and Merlin keeping herself occupied by watching the birds around them. Their song was like a lullaby that drifted through the breeze, even making her own eyes feel heavy with exhaustion. When was the last time she had a good night’s sleep? She wasn’t sure herself.

That silence was broken by the sharp sound of an older boy’s voice splitting through the air like how an ax split wood. “Arthur! Arthur! Where are you, idiot?”

Merlin jerked in surprise, which woke up Arthur in the process. He was still clinging to her, even in his sleep. He looked up at her with concern in his wide, violet gaze.

“Someone is calling you.”

Arthur turned his head to look down the trail that led to the bench, his eyes widening when he spotted an older boy not too far down the path. He looked to be in his early teens, his eyes narrow with contempt as he trudged down the path. He didn’t look similar to Arthur in the slightest, but somehow, they must’ve been related- otherwise, he wouldn’t have looked so excited to see him.

“Arthur, there you are!” He exclaimed, running up to Arthur before he could make another move. The older boy grabbed him by the shoulder sharply, a permanent scowl on his face. “What are you doing out here? Are you trying to get yourself eaten by coyotes? I turn around and you disappeared, so Ector sent me out to find you, stupid. You’re going to be in so much trouble when you get home-!”

Merlin bolted to her feet, coming forward and standing behind Arthur in a defensive stance. She put her other hand on the young boy’s shoulder and pulled him close to her, to which he grabbed onto her leg immediately. His grip on her faltered from how badly he was trembling.

“Who are you?” She demanded, her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed.

“I’m his older step-brother, Kay. My father, Sir Ector, sent me to find Arthur after he ran off.” He sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. He must’ve been trying to be intimidating by the way he emphasized his father’s name.

Merlin looked down at Arthur, who was still clinging to her leg. He didn’t make any attempt to sign an answer, and he kept his gaze down at the ground. He looked so scared, his head ducked down like he was trying to avoid being seen.

Admittedly, she found it hard to believe that Arthur would try to run away from his family. He seemed like a sweet and kind boy, who would be very obedient to his parents. Why would he run away?

“I’m sorry that he was bothering you, ma’am. Ector will give him a good punishment, so this will never happen again. This idiot knows better than to run away anyways. Come on, Arthur-”

“-Actually, he wasn’t bothering me, I was perfectly happy being with him. You know, just because he can’t hear you doesn’t mean you get to berate him and call him cruel names. He’s a very smart boy,”

“Oh, please. The whole ‘deaf’ thing is just an act. He just wants attention!” Kay scoffed, rolling his eyes. “He’s just too scared to talk to big, scary people, like me, my father, and I guess you. He doesn’t pay attention when people talk to him, either. He acts like he doesn’t hear, but I know he does.” He added with a knowing smirk, raising his brows expectantly.

“Well? Are you going to give him to me, or what?” He snapped impatiently.

Merlin let out a curt exhale, pursing her lips in thought. There wasn’t any way for her to necessarily prove that this poor boy was indeed deaf, but she was still inclined to believe Arthur. She was hesitant to give the young child back to his brother.

“How about..I walk the both of you home, how’s that? It’s getting late, I wouldn’t want anything happening to you two,” Merlin offered in response, giving a brief glance down at Arthur before returning her gaze to Kay.

Groaning, the older boy huffed out, “Fine, whatever,” under his breath. He turned sharply on his heel and started on his way back down the path, not bothering to look behind him to make sure they were following.

She crouched down in order to be on Arthur’s level, his little hands releasing his tight grip on her leg as he met the woman’s eyes. His teary gaze wavered as he let out a pathetic sniffle, looking on the verge of tears.

She brushed her thumbs under his eyes to try to wipe away the budding tears, placing her hands on his trembling shoulders to try to ground him. He didn’t push her away this time, instead, he raised his hands to sign out,

“What did he say?”

A frown briefly appeared on her face, tilting her head slightly to get a better look at him. She released her grip on him and signed back, “Nothing important.” She felt bad for withholding information from him, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him everything Kay said.

“I don’t want to go home.” He signed shakily. “Please.”

“I’m sorry.” Merlin shook her head, watching his gaze drop and his tears with it. “I’ll find you again. Promise.”

He painstakingly met her gaze, choking on a muffled sob as he tentatively signed, “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Merlin righted herself as she stood to her full height, realizing just how short and petite Arthur really was- either that, or she was much taller than she thought. She reached her hand out towards him, which he promptly grasped. She wrapped her fingers around his small, trembling hand, holding it firm enough to let him know that she wasn’t letting go of it any time soon. Finally, they began following Kay down the trail, keeping the other boy in sight while walking in comfortable silence.

[pencilofawesomeness]

Hello!

For the WIP ask game : demon.

🐧

Hello Penguin! Heh, I'm sure that one has cropped up a few times. Alrighty, let's see:

“Besides, he might not even make good bait; those guys were targeting local demons, but Natsu wasn’t a local or a normal demon.” —Demon Tales

“We don’t even know for sure that they’re behind the demon disappearances.” —Demon Tales

“We’ll get old-lady-Eleanor and all of the missing demons back and we’ll beat up anybody who gets in the way.” —Demon Tales

“Then again, how hard was it to accept your demons when you were already dead?” —untitled Umbrella Academy drabble

“Mael didn’t know why the Demon Prince had asked him to come here. The war was over now, finally. With the Demon King dead and the Supreme Goddess still formless, the conflict between demons and goddesses was resolved.” —Brother Talk (title pending)

“No, the Demon Prince wasn’t here to fight.” —Brother Talk (title pending)

“It would have to be handled by his older brother, though he understood why any demon would want to circumvent Ludociel if at all possible.” —Brother Talk (title pending)

“Estarossa was just a demon. Estarossa was just a demon.” —Brother Talk (title pending)

“They were all fooled by the demon Gowther’s illusion.” —Brother Talk (title pending)

“He just assumed that it was because he was… because Estarossa was the son of the Demon King: fighting was all there was.” —Brother Talk (title pending)

“Mael pretended that he didn’t see the tear slip down Meliodas’ cheek; there was no reason that the Demon Prince should be so vulnerable with him.” —Brother Talk (title pending)

“There had been a demon inside of him all this time—a terrible one, at that—and now he was a demon himself.” —untitled FT/SDS crossover

“But… He knew how much demons had hurt them.” —untitled FT/SDS crossover

“Natsu knew he wanted to be angry at those demons that hurt him and Lisanna and Happy but… Was he mad at the…the demons that… saved them? That saved their lives? Was it…was it because they were demons?” —untitled FT/SDS crossover

“He didn’t feel comfortable in his own skin anymore, and he didn’t know whether it was because that black miasma stuff was there and smelled different, or if he didn’t recognize himself with the etherious demon missing.” —untitled FT/SDS crossover

“You’ve never met a demon that wasn’t trying to kill you, have you?” —untitled FT/SDS crossover

“The demons of the book of Zeref were evil, after all.” —untitled FT/SDS crossover

“Only for him to be a demon?” —untitled FT/SDS crossover

“She’s half-human, half-demon.” —untitled FT/SDS crossover

“Demon, human…giant, fairy, goddess.” —untitled FT/SDS crossover

---

Whelp I used it a lot, but only concentrated into a few obscure obscure workshop fics, and of course in Demon Tales. Though this did remind me that the Brother Talk oneshot was pretty much done save for editing, but I forgot about it. I should polish that up soon, heheh. Then that crossover is a fun idea and I'm keeping it on the list, but I wrote that before 4KOTA started so that affected my timeline. And my ideas... So unless I kick SDS canon in addition to SDS canon, that's not going anywhere anytime soon. I got enough on my plate anyway XD

Ask about my WIPs

[amberskywrites]

Never Fading Love

Part of the “This Love” Collection

Masterpost || AO3 Link 

Fandom / Genre: Nanatsu no Taizai (The Seven Deadly Sins) / Hurt/No Comfort

Pairing: Meliodas/Elizabeth

Warnings: Implied previous suicide attempt, Major canon character death, No happy ending

AU Summary: A world where you are born with a mark on your wrist and that mark will appear on anyone with who you form a strong bond. Friends, family, and lovers alike. Marks can and often do fade, either with time and lost relationships or with death. 

Meliodas stared down at the water, taking in his appearance for the first time in… who knows how long. He thinks it could have been years. He wasn’t so sure. His time attempting to die again had only led to many years stuck in Purgatory, leading to him losing track of time in this world. Besides, it wasn’t like he was trying to keep track anymore.

But his reflection startled him.

He looked the same as he did when they had fought their parents.

Slipping to his knees, Meliodas cupped his cheek, never tearing his gaze away from the water as he traced his soft jawline and round cheek. He still looked like a child. His hair wasn’t growing either - he hadn’t cut it in a long, long time, but thought at first it was still short because he had been reckless while in Purgatory.

His mark on his wrist, the one which would appear on others, had changed. No longer was it a bloodied sword and crown, but a small dragon.

That was odd. He didn’t know that marks could change. When had it changed? He didn’t care to look at it after seeing Elizabeth dead-

Elizabeth.

Taking a deep breath, Meliodas pulled off his shirt and stared at his chest. His breath caught in his throat at the mark that was there.

Meliodas brushed the mark gently, tears springing to his eyes. He had been scared to look at it, he’d been terrified to see if it had faded. He didn’t want it to fade. He was certain it had, though. It had been so long since she was alive, it had to have been - there was no way he would have kept the mark after her death.

But it was still there, no sign of it fading, and that almost made him feel worse. He choked on a sob at the mark, the one that had changed since he had last seen it but still knew it was hers. It had to be. He hadn’t felt such a strong bond with anyone since Zeldris, but after their fallout, Zeldris’ mark had faded so quickly from where it had been next to Elizabeth’s over his hearts.

His reflection became unclear and his vision swam until he scrunched his eyes closed and wailed at the memories of their last moments together - once again. The mark only made the situation worse, seeing the wounded heart with the familiar pattern in a goddess’ eye behind it filling him with such despair.

He had fucked up so incredibly badly, he despised himself over the fact that he couldn’t save her, save anyone important to him.

Eventually, his tears died down, and he was left hiccupping and coughing for a bit before his breathing evened out. Meliodas didn’t look back to the water, filling his canteen he had scavenged without glancing at the glassy surface. He pulled his shirt back on and got to his feet, legs feeling weak and shaky.

He walked for another long time, never spending too much time in the same place, just wandering. Meliodas felt numb, almost, felt worthless. The war was over, his beloved was dead - though his love for her didn’t diminish any - and he didn’t exactly have anywhere to go.

Sometimes he’d trace over the mark engraved in his chest when he settled down to rest for a night, absentmindedly moving his fingers across the lines he recognized so well by now. Even though he didn’t look at it much - every time bringing him down a spiral of tears and screams wishing she was still there - he knew the path of the marking by heart.

But when he saw her, suddenly he felt overwhelmed. It wasn’t every day you saw your lover back from the dead.

It wasn’t her, though. Even if they shared the same name, and they had similar appearances and voices, this Elizabeth couldn’t be his goddess. It had to have been a coincidence. But that didn’t matter to him.

Because he was ecstatic to have her, this Elizabeth.

She brought light back into his life, and he loved her just as fiercely as he had loved his goddess. The two grew closer and closer, until they were almost inseparable, and loved one another openly as though the next day would be their last.

Meliodas didn’t care to look at the mark on his chest anymore - something in the back of his mind always stopped him. He didn't know what it was that was stopping him.

He knows now.

Her eyes both bright orange, her memory returned, he was so happy to hear that she remembered everything. But there was a solemn look on her face, one he didn’t understand at first.

After he had promised, she had explained their curse to him.

Eternal Life and Eternal Reincarnation.

Elizabeth held his hands tightly in her own before releasing them. She turned over his hand with his mark, and she did the same with her own, and Meliodas stared down at the marks that were engraved into their skin.

“These aren’t ordinary marks of bonds anymore. Not for us.” She spoke softly, tracing her thumb over the mark on his wrist.

“What do you mean, Elizabeth?”

“My mark on you will never fade, and I will always have your mark. Even if we have yet to meet, even if we despise one another. The marks will remain forever until you break the curse.”

Meliodas didn’t even notice the tears that started to slip down his cheeks until she gently wiped them away. She ignored the tears that filled her own eyes. He grabbed her suddenly, pulling her close and burying himself into her warmth. Elizabeth held him tightly, combing her fingers through his hair in an attempt to comfort him.

It didn’t work, she died three days later.

The next time he had met her, Meliodas saw his mark already branded on her chest and felt his hearts shatter.

[solynaceawrites]

End of Sanctuary

Fandom: Nanatsu no Taizai | The Seven Deadly Sins           Characters: Mael, Meliodas Tags: Post-Canon, Character Study, Canon Character Death, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort written for @nntzine​​ Summary: After the defeat of the Demon King, Mael returns to the only home he knows and engages in a festival to honor the ones who were lost.Originally written for Nanatsu no Taizine: Volume II and published in celebration of autumn.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The sun is low in the sky when he reaches his home. Former home, he supposes, landing lightly in what was once the grand courtyard: the immaculate marble has cracked and fallen, the flowers overgrown by thistles and weeds. Mael tilts his head back, taking in the ruins of the spires of the Supreme Deity’s palace, listening to the wind whistle forlornly through the shattered windows and holes in the walls, and wonders if this is their punishment for their hubris. Dead leaves whisper through the grass, like the voices of so many ghosts; with a sigh, he kneels, sweeping dirt away from the walk. This is the place of his birth, and he remembers with a fond sort of ache the feasts and festivals that were held here, one in particular which was always dear to him.

The Feast of All Souls began as a prayer. To remember those who’d come before, goddesses lit candles within their homes and laid offerings of food and wine on their doorsteps. Eventually, with the war looming over their clan, the Supreme Deity had made it a public event, one which all were encouraged to attend. Private offerings were still left, yet the majority of the evening was spent in the city streets, buying masks and scraps of finest parchment upon which to write hopes, dreams, or words of remembrance. And, once the sun had set and the world was cool and quiet, in the grand courtyard a chosen member of their race would light the torches and dance, and those little bits of people’s lives would be fed to the bonfire, to reach the next life. Mael rubs a dandelion between his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. There is no one here, and yet . . .

He has no place in Britannia, nor a reason to return there. Too much suffering is on his shoulders, too much grief for him to express his own. And with the role he played in Escanor’s passing — how foolish he had been to believe that Elizabeth could heal the damage inflicted by Sunshine, how naive to trust in Escanor’s words over his own understanding of the man’s life — he would no doubt face scathing ire from the Sins, who loved Escanor as a comrade and a friend. And the Celestial Realm is in ruins, hardly fit to live in. Mael is well and truly alone in this world, and he presses himself to his feet and lifts his gaze to study the first blooming stars. He does not know where he will go from here, but he decides that, before he meets whatever fate is in store for him, he will honor those who lost their lives in this senseless war. 

He will reignite the flames of the Feast.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Mael stands in the center of the courtyard, watching as the sun begins its slow trek below the horizon. It is cold now, the seasons caught between autumn and winter, and the ivy that climbs the stone pillars is a vibrant, otherworldly green against the tawny hues of the rest of the world, and his breath condenses on the inside of the mask he wears. Only the Grace that had returned to him keeps him from truly feeling the chill; he is shirtless, his feet bare, and without Sunshine he would be trembling. Surrounding him are torches, burning brightly against the oncoming gloom, plates of food and wine at their bases, and a pile of dead branches waits for him to set it alight. His mind is as clear as it can be, his limbs tense for the dance he will perform. When the sun kisses the edge of the sky, he leans over and presses one of his own torches to the kindling, and the bonfire, soaked in oil, roars to life.

Then Mael begins to dance.

It is Ludoshel he thinks of first, the brother he had all but worshipped in his youth. He remembers his first flight—more of a glide, really, his wings too small and his feathers too new to hold him aloft for more than a few moments—how Ludoshel beamed with pride as he landed awkwardly on his feet and ruffled the hair that never laid as prettily as his own. Nights passed with stories, his brother tracing the constellations in the sky and telling them how they came to be: the Warrior, forever chasing the Queen he loved; the clever Fox that marked the beginning of autumn, the Saint and the King and the Dove, until Mael’s head was full of starlight and dreams. Ludoshel’s comfort when he was injured, his hands calloused yet soothing as he bandaged scrapes. Ludoshel, his voice hoarse with held-back tears as he clapped Mael on the shoulder and congratulated him on becoming an Archangel. His brother, and confidante, who had his flaws yet was always good to him. 

Mael flicks out an arm, the torch in that hand dangling by his fingertips. To my brother, without whom I would not be. I thank you.

Escanor comes next. Though they had barely known each other at all, the man had been full of kindness and love, the type of person Mael wished he had been three thousand years ago. Their meeting had been violent, to be sure, but even then, even as Estarossa, he had felt a genuine respect for the one who stood against his decree, and knows now that Sunshine did not aid him in that feat. Escanor had not been capable of hatred; his heart was too pure, his capacity for understanding too great. Even in his grief, he had not been cruel, each action meant to end Mael’s life as quickly and cleanly as possible. Well, perhaps that is too generous, but whether or not Escanor knew that Cruel Sun would cause a slow death, Mael does not know. They had been bound by Sunshine and Mael had found him, and Escanor had pleaded with him, not once but twice, refusing to accept the self-loathing brewing within Mael’s chest. 

He crouches, twisting the torches over his head in a shower of sparks. To Escanor, who was all that I hoped to be and more. I thank you. 

Sariel, who taught him to read the affection that lurked beneath abrasive words, and Tarmiel, the one who had never given up his hope that Mael was good, both dead by his hands. Sariel’s tongue had always been like sandpaper, yet he had been the one to teach him how to be agile, how to stay moving in the air so no one enemy could get close enough to do him harm. Tarmiel, gentle and sweet, had encouraged him, shown him the proper way to grip a sword and how he could use his size to make his opponents think he was slower than he was to keep the upper hand. Monspeet, an unwilling victim of the illness that had festered within Mael as the decree at away at his sanity; Derieri, who sacrificed herself in an attempt to save him; Oslo, who was Rou, a loyal companion that devoured Mael’s magic so that the Fairy King could live. 

Without that, without them, he would not have survived, and he lets the fire lick his shoulders as he draws the torches along his chest. To those who gave themselves so that I would be free. I thank you.

In one fluid movement, he lunges forward and places the torches atop the fire, his magic working to heal his hands even as they burn. Then he steps back, removing the mask he had carved from silver aspen and the ceremonial trousers woven from red-dyed wool before placing them within the pile as well, the flames devouring the hopes and prayers held within the objects, turning them into smoke that will hopefully reach the souls they are meant for. The sun is long gone now, the moon at the apex of its journey, and the sweat that had formed as he danced grows cold along his legs and back. Mael picks up the flask of wine he’d brought for himself and opens it to drink, uncaring of his nudity. He must watch until the fire dies, and then he can rest until dawn. Checking the offerings will come in the morning; so he sits and drinks and fasts till only embers remain, smoldering against the shattered stone.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The next morning, he exits his makeshift home, exhausted and more than a little hungover. A quick Invigorate cures him of the latter, but his bones ache as he treks by to the courtyard to clean up the remnants from the Feast. It is an unusually bright day, the sky clear and free of clouds, and the sun warms his back as he kneels down to inspect the first of the offerings, finding it nearly gone. With a faint smile, he moves to the next, and the next, and the last, and each of them has been disturbed more than the birds are capable of, the gifts picked thoroughly and more than half-missing. The sign of a good Feast and answered prayers lifts a weight Mael hadn’t realized he was carrying from his shoulders. He knows that he is by no means forgiven for the atrocities he committed, yet the sight of empty baskets puts him at ease; perhaps now those left behind can begin their healing. He pauses next to the remains of the bonfire to tilt his head back, studying the clear blue stretching endlessly above his head. 

“Autumn,” Ludoshel says, placing a hand on his shoulder with a smile, “is a time of rest so that we can be reborn anew, like all that the Supreme Deity’s light touches.”

“I miss you,” Mael replies.

His voice echoes flatly in the air, and he closes his eyes against the grief that swells within him. Rest to be reborn anew. 

Footsteps crunch over the dirt, drawing Mael’s attention to the ruined stairs. To his surprise, Meliodas is standing there, his hands in his pockets as he surveys their surroundings, his brows furrowed with what can only be contemplation. Then his green eyes cut across the theater to Mael, and his usual grin slides into place. “I thought I’d find you here,” he says cheerfully, crossing to him. “Or hoped, actually, but Elizabeth said this is where you were most likely to go.”

Mael can only stare at him while his mind tries to comprehend Meliodas being in the Celestial Realm. “Why?” he asks.

He supposes it could have meant why are you looking for me, or why did Elizabeth send you, and Meliodas chooses to answer the former. “I have a proposition for you.” He scratches the back of his head. “Well, the Sins do. With Escanor gone, we’re short one, and all of us are used to fighting with Sunshine around. So we want you to join us. There probably won’t be much fighting,” Meliodas adds when Mael stiffens, “since the war is over, which means you’ll mostly be helping run the Boar’s Hat and keeping the peace when we have to.”

He isn’t sure what to make of the offer. “I’m not sure I’m suited to becoming his legacy.”

Meliodas waves his hand dismissively. “No one’s asking for that, or for you to become the Sin of Pride. We’re offering a home, and a chance to do something other than stay here, alone.” His gaze is calculating now as he looks at Mael, almost as though he is daring him to refuse, and he nearly smiles as the old, Estarossa-like desire to meet the challenge swells within him.

“Alright,” Mael agrees. “I’ll go with you. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Buy me a drink.”

Meliodas grins, holding out a hand that Mael clasps warmly within his own, and there’s a rush of fear, longing and hope that makes him tremble. Be reborn, he thinks. I’ll try my best, brother.

[solynacea]

The First Tree

Merry Christmas, @babydonut01s-world! I was your Secret Santa this year; below is a story based on The Christmas Fairy of Strasburg by Francis Jenkins Olcott. I hope you like it!

As Lord Meliodas paced the halls of his keep, he found himself more irate than usual. He had only just come from another fruitless meeting with his advisors, who continued to press him to take a wife so that he might have a son to whom he can one day leave the reaches of his domain, yet all those presented to him for his consideration had failed to rouse the barest of his interest. They were too tall, or too short, or too round, or not round enough, a high-pitched nag or a simpering fool. No doubt the old fools who served him believed they had chosen the best for his perusal; if those wretches were the best his lands have to offer, then he would remain unwed for the rest of his days. Let His Majesty decide where the fertile forests and fields go upon Meliodas’ death. He would have no use of them then, anyway.

He decided, as he sometimes did when his mind was thunderous, to take his horse down the forest trails. It was the only time he found any solitude, or peace, and he returned to his quarters only briefly to bundle up against the winter cold before heading down to the stables. A boy there hastened to prepare his finest steed; with the cool leather reins in his fist, his heart began to lighten, and he guided the horse to and through the castle gates. Snow fell lightly through the air, the flakes slow and fat and lazy as they spiralled to cover roofs and shrubs, no doubt bringing joy to the children who lived in the village nearby. It was Christmas Eve, after all, and they would sing their cheer at how fitting it was that it should snow, only to curse it when they were forced to wait for their fields to thaw.

His breath puffed in clouds as he moved through the gnarled oaks that marked the boundaries of the forest. Meliodas had no particular destination in mind. He would ride until he was too cold to bear it anymore, then return to the warmth of his halls and drink mulled, spiced wine to shake the chill from his bones. He passed bushes of holly, their bright fruit obstinately cheery, and firs with coats of lush green needles, taking a meandering path as meaningless as the continued insistence upon his marriage. When he tilted his head back, the whirls of snow drew him in, landing with soft, cold kisses upon his brow and cheeks. Perhaps he would simply remain here for the rest of his days. Estarossa could have the lands, or Zeldris. They would run it well.

It was the abrupt halting of his horse that shook him from the near trance; they were in a part of the wood unfamiliar to him, and a frown marred his features as he carefully dismounted. A small clearing surrounded him, still and quiet, and in the center was a spring, the ground near the edges unfrozen and vibrant with soft, green grass. It was peaceful, and alluring, and he crossed to the water, kneeling next to it to peer within its depths, surprised to see it dark and deeper than he first thought. A soft light swirled within, seeming to call to him. Reach out, it said, warm yourself within my embrace. Aren’t you cold?

He realized quite suddenly that he was. His hands, which he had forgotten in his haste to cover with gloves, ached with it, the fingers pink and stiff and the rings like little blades biting against his flesh. But beneath the ridiculous urge to sink them into the inviting waters was the warning imparted to him by his mother, a woman of whom he only remembered her voice and the kindness of her smile. “The forest is no place for a boy,” she’d told him from beneath the blankets meant to break her fever. “There are fey creatures there who would love nothing more than to keep you forever. Estarossa did not heed me, and he is addled now. But you will be good, and listen to your mother, will you not?” And he, a mere child of seven, had solemnly promised that he would, and he had never set foot within the woods on his own until the hunt that sealed him as a man. Yet there was nothing dangerous here, not that he could see, and steam curled enticingly from the surface of the spring, as if pleading with him to rest and warm his hands. After another moment of hesitation, he listened to the call, dipping his fingers into it.

Joy, fierce and strong, sung through him as a golden heat climbed slowly through his veins. It was not just his hands that lost the cold, but the rest of him too, until he was sweating beneath his heavy cloak. Meliodas let out a quiet groan and submerged himself farther, so that the water lapped around his wrists, an unbidden smile creasing his cheeks. Here, he forgot his worries and his ire; all that mattered was the soothing embrace of the spring and the comfort that came from it. He even fancied that he could feel another hand, small and dainty and smooth, caressing his own like a lover, and he closed his eyes to dwell on that, because it was lovely. Then he leaned over to dunk his face, and when he was mere inches from doing so he paused, his breath catching in his throat. There was another set of hands, white and smooth, curling softly around his own, and as he drew away with a shout of alarm, they tightened just enough that the golden ring he wore slippes over his knuckle and into their palms.

He returned to his horse, goading it into a sprint back to his keep. The ring was no small matter, as it was given to his family by His Majesty and marked their place among his nobility, and he was of the mind to have the servants go and drain the spring. But it was night when he returned — the loss of an entire afternoon sending more unease settling over his heart — so instead he left the horse at the stables and returned to his room to draw up a written order for the next morning. When that was done, he retired to his bedchamber, falling into the couch and closing his eyes, attempting sleep. Yet that eluded his grasp, and he settled into a half-doze, until the baying of the watch-hounds in the yard pulled him harshly from that. Meliodas remained where he was as the sounds of feet on the stairs reached his ears, coming to a halt in the antechamber. Then there were voices, loud and jovial, and he sprung from the couch in a mixture of fury and fear, the starting of a strain of lovely music doing nothing to soothe his nerves.

In the antechamber, there were numerous beings, singing and dancing and chattering excitedly amongst themselves as they flitted about an enormous fir. Some of them were no bigger than the lantern bugs of summer, while some towered to the beams of the ceiling, and their skin is varied, yet all of them seemed full of cheer. He watched them for a moment, his voice locked in his throat, as they decorated the tree with strings of pearls and ruby bracelets, golden circlets and rich silk sashes, daggers with jewel-studded sheaths and rings glittering with sapphires. Meliodas could not move, entranced by the glittering tree, the lights that twinkled from its branches, and, as with the spring, his fear melted away to be replaced by a comforting warmth. 

Then the folk fell silent, parting to make a path from the tree to him. Through it stepped a lady of dazzling beauty: her kind eyes seemed cut from the same sapphires that adorned the fir, her long, silver tresses were crowned with a diadem of gold and precious diamonds, her hair flowing around a silk gown of softest azure. She stretched out her hands, elegant and white, upon one which rested his lost ring, and said in soft, musical tones, “Lord Meliodas, I am Queen Elizabeth, of the fae. I have come to repay your Christmas visit, and to return something that was lost in the Fairy Well.”

Her voice was alluring, drawing him as it had at the spring. He took the ring from her small hand, sliding it over his knuckle; then, unable to resist, he pulled her to him, and she smiled as she folded her fingers over his own and lead him amidst the fairies. They danced until dawn, and Meliodas forgot his coldness towards maidens and his disdain of marriage; when the sun kissed the horizon with rosy hues, he fell to his knees and begged her to become his bride. Elizabeth joined him on the floor, lifting his face to hers with her fingers. “I will stay by your side,” she answered softly, “so long as you do not utter the word ‘death’ in my presence, as it is the most abhorrent thing to me.”

And Meliodas agreed.

They were married the next day, their wedding celebrated with much pomp and magnificence, and lived together happily for many years.

Yet men are full of folly, and arrogance, and often forget the promises they have made. So it was when one day, after the ground had thawed and the air was alive with birdsong, that Meliodas decided upon a hunt. The horses were saddled and bridled, stomping nervously against the ground, the men dressed in leathers and light armor, some with spears and others with bows, yet Queen Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen. Meliodas paced the hall, impatience and ire festering within him, until even his brothers watched him warily. As a youth, his temper had been fierce and dangerous and, though he had managed to tame it as he grew, it still flared to life on those occasions where he felt insulted. Finally, Elizabeth appeared in the hall, dressed elegantly in a green gown of silk, her diadem seated firmly against her locks, and he rounded on her in a fury.

“You have kept us waiting for so long,” he cried, “that you would make a good messenger to send for death!”

Scarcely had the word left his lips when the fairy let out a shrill, wild wail and disappeared from the hall. In vain, Lord Meliodas, overwhelmed by grief and remorse, searched the lands high and low for her, yet he could find no trace of her except for the imprint of her hand in the stone above the castle gate. Years passed, and Elizabeth did not return, and Meliodas continued to grieve. Every year, remembering the night they met, he set up a lighted fir in the antechamber where he first laid eyes on her, hoping that she would return. He never married, nor so much as entertained the maidens who came to court his favor, and the running of the castle fell to his brothers as he fell deeper into his sorrow. Time passed, and the young lord died not so young, and the castle eventually fell into ruin.

And that, some say, is how the first Christmas tree came to the kingdom of Liones.

[themorgtician]

His Sun Chapter 3

Chapter 3 is up!

In this one Escanor comes back from a mission and tries to deal with a stubborn Merlin.

[prolestariwrites]

Here is a gift fic for @yuleira, who won the March Madness pool in the content creators’ server! She successfully guessed all the worst-dressed NnT characters, so this fic is her prize. 

You didn’t give me that much to go on, so I decided to take some inspiration from you, specifically this picture right here. This one got me right in the feels, and I hope you like it!

Meliodas climbed the stairs of the Boar Hat to his room, his limbs tired. Tired was an understatement actually—he was nearly dead from the fight earlier. Muscles he had forgotten he ever had ached, his hand from gripping his sword, his legs from running, his stomach from Ban’s punch, his head from overuse of magic. Every inch of him from the soles of his feet to the hair follicles on the top of his head simply hurt. Sleep called to him, and he could not help but smile as he reached the top of the steps and turned the corner to his room.

A sliver of light appeared beneath the door, signaling Elizabeth was inside. Normally he would burst in, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl half-dressed, even though they both knew the game was impossible. Elizabeth had taken to changing in the washroom behind the locked door, but she would still squeal when he would jump inside, and he would still pretend to be disappointed when he found her in her nightgown. As he reached for the doorknob, he wondered briefly if he should do the joke… but fatigue won out, and he stepped inside quietly.

Only one lamp was lit, leaving most of the room in darkness. Meliodas shut the door as his eyes adjusted, thinking Elizabeth must have been asleep already. Instead his eyes landed on her sitting at the edge of the bed.

Quickly she turned with a sniffing sound that made his stomach sink. Meliodas could handle any threat, any monster or demon or beast, any wayward knight or rowdy patron or enemy from his father’s kingdom. But Elizabeth’s tears were a completely different story.

“Everything okay, Elizabeth?” he asked with a bit of a wince. The princess hurriedly dragged her hand through her bangs, the silvery strands catching the moonlight from the window just as the little blue bead that hung from her left earlobe reflected the light from the lamp. There was something on her lap that she gathered in her arms, tilting herself so he could not see.

“Yes, Sir Meliodas. I’m fine.”

She stood and stepped towards the closet. Immediately he moved to stop her, a gentle hand on her arm. He knew that tone, the mixture of tightness and a slight tremble. He had heard versions of it for thousands of years. Elizabeth was anything but fine.

Meliodas looked down, frowning at the lump she clutched in her hand. He reached out to pull it from her grasp, but Elizabeth whimpered and stepped backwards. Now that there was some space between them, he could make out the dirty fur and the pink fabric, his hand falling away from her arm as recognition dawned on him: Princess Veronica’s coat. “Elizabeth…”

“I’m sorry,” she burst out, squeezing her eyes shut. “I know I shouldn’t… I need to be stronger than this.” Her shoulders shook as she held the coat tighter. “It’s just… It’s all my fault… It’s all my fault—”

“No, Elizabeth, it’s not your fault!” Not knowing what to do, he grabbed her elbows, sparking a memory—(“they’re dead, Meliodas, how could they have done this, it’s all my fault”)—and he leaned in, trying to catch her eye. “You didn't do this. The Holy Knights did this. Guila set those bombs, they threatened you, they tried to take you away.”

She shook her head, the words tumbling out through quivering lips. “No, if I had gone with them, then she’d be alive! She would be—she would—if I hadn’t run away! Why did I run? Why did I do that?” Tears flowed freely down her eyes, the pain in her voice and on her face hurting him more than any weapon ever had. What could ever hurt him more than Elizabeth’s suffering?

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered. Meliodas swallowed thickly against a burning lump in his throat. Elizabeth was still shuddering with quiet sobs, the coat bundled tightly under her chin, her gaze on the floor. How to comfort her?

He clenched his fists, thinking if he could get his hands on them—the Holy Knights who attacked them and set that infernal trap, the Grand Masters who had set them on this path of destruction—he could make them pay. It would be incredibly satisfying to watch each one of them beg for forgiveness for hurting Elizabeth. He could enjoy the taste and the heat, of a life given for a life taken.

But that wasn’t who he was, not anymore. Now, in this place, he was Meliodas, Captain of the Seven Deadly Sins, and Elizabeth was crying.

“Elizabeth, listen to me,” he said again, more determined this time. “You did nothing wrong. You saved me today, and your sister saved you. No matter what happened, I’ll forever be grateful to her for that.”

“How can I ever forgive myself?” Elizabeth sobbed. “She died—she died s-saving me. B-because I ran away.” She pressed a hand to her mouth, her fingers visibly shaking. “Why did I do that? Why did I run? Why did I—why did I ever leave the castle?” she wailed.

Meliodas sighed. “What can I do?” he hissed, his chest too tight.

Her blue eye met his, shining with tears. “Please hold me,” she whispered. “Because I think… I think I might break apart any moment.”

He gave a little tug on her arms, and thankfully Elizabeth relented. Still clutching the jacket she leaned her weight against him, her forehead pressed to his chest. The girl gave into her cries, tears wetting his shirt, but Meliodas did not care. Gently he pulled the jacket from her arms and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to the back of her head in a soft kiss.

Elizabeth clutched his arms and sank to the floor, Meliodas following as he hauled her onto his lap. They sat there for a while, letting her cry until there was nothing left, and she shook with difficult breaths against the hollow of his throat. He draped the coat around her shoulders before stroking her hair, murmuring soothing words against her scalp. By now the room was dark, the lamp having burned low, only a tiny, soft glow dancing on the top of her head.

Slowly Elizabeth sat up, her fingers still tightly holding his sleeves, her eyes a puffy mess and her cheeks ruddy and wet. “I’m so sorry.”

Her voice was soft, making Meliodas smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you both today,” he replied.

Elizabeth nodded as she wiped away her tears. “I’m going to miss her so much.” Her words were quiet, like a secret. “I l-loved her, so much.”

“I know.” Meliodas settled a bit, his back leaning against the armoire, and pulled Elizabeth against him again. Eventually they’d need to move to the bed, but for now she curled against him, the room quiet and peaceful and heavy with their shared sorrow.

[sevendeadlysins-imagines]

Request: Whisperings

Prompt: Hey! Could I possibly get a King x Reader where the Reader is having a panic attack and King calms her down? Thank you if you do it!

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: Slight angst, panic attack, anxiety

It wasn’t a good day. Well, to be fair, the whole week sucked. It was all these little things that kept happening to you: being belittled at work, tripping over yourself at the worst times, paying bills you despised. On top of all that, you were let go from your job, and yet you were too  sad to go look for a job, but you knew you needed the money, desperately. Bills would always pile up. Mentally, you kept going back and forth between staying home and going job hunting, claiming sadness but yet needing to afford to live.

Exhausting, but you were more anxious. What would you do?!

For the time being, you were staying with a close friend, Harlequin, who offered you a place to stay until you found another job. You enjoyed Harlequin’s company (maybe a little too much as friends), but you sometimes found yourself thinking about what could happen if there was more-more spark, more lust, more feelings.

Today just wasn’t one of those days. You overslept and missed a job interview, one that would’ve paid well and guaranteed hours. Then, you burnt the breakfast you made and that definitely didn’t settle your nerves. After tripping over nothing twice, you decide to just lay on the ground for a while.

Your mind was against you as it kept going back to everything that has gone wrong lately. It seemed as if nothing ever went right, everything and everyone was always against you. The thought of that rattled you, caused a shiver to stutter along your spine. You curled into a ball on the floor.

When Harlequin opened the door to his apartment, he was humming and thinking about what to make for dinner for you and himself. He considered alfredo, but all of that escaped his mind once he heard shaky sobs reverberate through the apartment. He dropped his keys and ran towards the sound, finding you curled in yourself on the kitchen floor.

“Hey,” Harlequin crouched in front of you and whispered, trying not to frighten you anymore. You still jumped at the sudden sound, and looked up to see his gentle face. Suddenly, you felt even worse because now your friend was all worried over you. It was bad enough you lived with him out of his own niceness, but now he’s concerned over you.

Harlequin carefully moved and sat down next to you against the cabinets. He wasn’t all that sure what to do while you were panicking, but he thought just having a person to help out would be best.

Harlequin wrapped his arm around your back, rubbing it gently. Occasionally, he would stroke your hair, and tried to distract you from your panic attack.

“So I was talking to Ban and Diane earlier and they wanted to do something this weekend. Maybe go bowling or just hang out at Ban and Elaine’s? I’m not really all that sure what they were doing or really planning, but I thought it would be fun for all of us to get together. I haven’t seen all of the Sins in such a long time, but now that Escanor is back from his business retreat and Merlin resurfaced, Meliodas thought it would be a good idea for everyone to catch up.” Harlequin blabbered on, but he noticed you started to shake less.

So, he continued while whispering.

“I woke up early and decided to go and visit Gowther. I know I’ve had differences with him in the past, but I’m trying to understand him. It’s hard, though. I don’t really understand how emotionless he is, and I guess I’m just too opposite to really comprehend how someone can do similar things without and passion, any heart. I don’t even know if that makes sense, but I’m trying. I’m also trying to forgive Ban and Meliodas. I know Ban did what he had to do to save Elaine, but wrapping my head around it is something different. And Meliodas, well, once I figured out he is a demon, it’s been hard to really trust him. All my life, I’ve been told that the demons were the reason that there was wrong in the world. Finding out my captain is one was bad enough, but then realizing Diane and Ban trust him wholeheartedly...it bothers me. I guess I’m just thinking out loud, but I hope I can regain my old trust for Meliodas.”

After Harlequin’s confession, he took a deep breath and looked up. A minute passed and he realized you were still and silent. Looking at your peaceful form, Harlequin understood you fell asleep.

Well, it worked, he thought, a smile stretched on his face.

[christylove94]

Distracted

Parchment is scattered haphazardly across the smooth wooden floor. Usually this type of disarray would happen by accident as she tends to misplace things often. But this time is different. Meliodas sits on the floor with his back to the bed surrounded by the papers. She tried to see what he was up to before, but one look at some of the information scrawled in neat writing bored her considerably.

Instead she chooses to lie on the bed behind him, her head propped up in her palm. "What're you doing?" She asks, kicking her feet lightly in the air behind her.

Meliodas gives a lengthy sigh not meanly, but definitely fond as he leans his head back onto the bed right under hers. She can see the weariness in his eyes clearly this close up. "It's just a bunch of papers that need to be organized. Stuff like sales, orders, damage costs... I'm usually more on top of this, but lately I've been..." His eyes sharpen as his mind is catches up to his mouth. "distracted."

Elizabeth smiles serenely and runs a finger up the warm skin of his cheek. "Thank you for explaining..." She tells him and drops a lingering kiss to his forehead. His caught breath is loud in the quiet room and the look of pure wonder that washes over his features erupts tingles in her belly.

He nods wordlessly then sits straight once again. She has to sigh at that. She knows he likes the affection as much as she does. She's felt it in the way his hearts race away beneath her palms when she hugs him from behind, and the way his body goes pliant as if to say do with me what you will. So she figures he must be just shy. The idea sends a buzz of possibilities through her mind as she dawns a wide smile. If that's the case, I can be bold enough for the both of us!  

The shifting of papers and the November wind knocking against the window spur her into motion. Her expression smooths with concentration as she extends her hands forward like carefully approaching a skittish animal. Her hand makes contact. His hair is wonderfully soft.

Her gaze hones in on the way his shoulders tense. She already knows what he's going to say before he does. "Uh, what are you doing?"

She lets her fingers trail the length of blond hair, feeling a warmth span her lungs at the way he shivers. "Nothing," she pops the word out sweetly as if that'll make him believe it.

"Really?" He says in that way she knows he's smiling. His shoulders sag a little.

She nods even though he can't see, her hand now traveling in bold caresses. She hadn't noticed before but the candlelight makes his hair look darker. "Yep."

He seems to take her word for it and slowly picks up where he left off. Internally bouncing at her success, she edges closer, applying more pressure to her touch. She's never had the chance to do this before, to just be with him in an intimate space, just feeling him near and breathing him in. Her heart creeps louder in her ears as she presses her cheek to the side of his head and simply lets her hands roam.

Her palm goes flat across his clavicle, the other gliding on fingertips down his bare arm. A quiet noise fills his throat as goosebumps raise under her touch. A needy thrum awakens down below. Her hand, so greedy, crawls under the low collar of his black shirt, finding warm skin and thumping hearts. The pad of her finger glances off a nipple.

He jolts and the papers flutter from his hands. "El... Elizabeth, you shouldn't be... doing this."

That raspy tone does funny things to that place wound tight deep within. She finds her control lost to wind and her lips trailing hungrily over skin. Any that she can find. The shell of his ear, the swell of his cheek, and the strong bend of his shoulder. She feels pretty naughty swirling her tongue right there, but when she scrapes her nails over defined abs, Meliodas moans.

Oh my, he moaned.

She's up and moving before she can blink, eager to move to her place in his lap, a place she's wanted for weeks. An unseen paper derails her plans though, sending her falling with a yelp. Instead of the cold, hard floor, she collides with a strong, warm body. She opens her eyes to his face so near hers, the pupils in his eyes blown so wide she'd swear they were black. Now she's the one turning into a quivering mess.

Feeling his panting breaths fan across her lips, Elizabeth takes the opportunity to be honest. "This wasn't my plan, you know."

Her eyes trail leisurely over his flushed skin and watches his Adam's apple leap. "What was your plan...?"

She chooses to show him instead, guiding him back to sitting like before. And then with his eyes looking up at her as if she's the thing of wild dreams, she lowers herself into his lap. Her weight makes him jump and shift his waist away, a bridge of beet red spreading across his nose. It's obvious to her why when what she named his poker after nights of its jabs, strains high in his loose pants. She looks to it openly, legs spreading wider over his thighs.

"Can I touch it?" She asks through a saccharine smile, and reaches down.

His hand catches hers before its made gone an inch and she pulls her gaze up. His eyes are closed, and he looks kind of pained. Like he's fighting some war only he can see. She brings a hand up to cradle his cheek and skims her nose over the other before kissing a spot there. She wants to be able to pour into him the sense that it's okay until he feels what she feels: A sense of peace, blankets of warmth, and an unrelenting want.

Her breathing speeds as she reaches the corner of his mouth and she's hovering there, his air tangling rapidly with hers. Her skin prickles all over with dancing sparks at the idea of just kissing him. He must sense it, feel it in the charged air between them because he captures her face tenderly between strong hands. He opens his eyes and he's looking into her, gaze heavy and intense as he sees something she can't imagine. Maybe it's that place that's been blooming in her chest for what seems like ages shining bright in her eyes. Whatever it is, it emboldens him. And suddenly he's kissing her. And...

Oh my...

She's falling, floating, and rooted all at once as she folds into him. One arm hooks around her waist and a hand tangles in her hair, holding her in place as he devours her lips. It's like being submerged in heat, his mouth slanting over hers, drinking her in, gently coaxing her tongue with his. She whimpers, sinking further with no end in sight as her head starts to spin. She never thought it could be like this, hot and secure all at once. She's losing herself in him, but he's careful with her. Showing her a glimpse of a world never imagined, then slowly guiding her back to what's known.

She finds herself gasping, her lips just grazing his as bashfulness settles in for once. Meliodas being the sweetest thing she's ever known just combs his fingers through her hair, waiting for her to open her eyes. When she does those green eyes are kind and sure, but she spots a pinch a regret there too.

"Elizabeth... I know what you want, but I... I can't give it to you."

Her heart freezes and the feeling positively aches. "Why?" It can't be that he's just shy, not after that kiss.

He brushes her hair behind her ear and caresses her cheek with his thumb in electric sweeps. "You're the princess of the kingdom. That would defile your status."

The pressure leaves her chest and she can't help but giggle at his reasoning. Always trying to look out for her wellbeing. "You're so silly. I want you to ruin me for anyone else."

He leans back in unspoken shock, but her center so close to his rigid poker feels his body respond a bit differently. It makes her want him all the more. "I'm not saying this out of gratitude either. I am grateful that you agreed to search for the Sins to save my papa and free the kingdom, but I like you." She curls her arms around his neck and brings her cheek to his in a wondrous nuzzle, earning herself a breathless chuckle as she says, "I really like you. I know in my heart I'll never feel this way with someone else. I won't ever feel like I can soar above the clouds and take on the world unless it's with you, Meliodas. So, please... make it so that no one else can have me but you."

The world blurs and then the bed is cushioning her back as Meliodas hovers over her. Candlelight throws flames in his eyes as he drags a coarse hand up her thigh, under her nightgown... Her head feels fuzzy, but she knows she'll remember this night well.  

"Gladly," he breathes against her lips, finally giving in.

[laceymorganwrites]

Hi if you're not swamped with requests can I please have a fluffy number 5 with estarossa and a human lover with estarossa as the jealous one please?

It´s not so often you find a demon in your backyard. It´s even more unusual for that demon to be this attractive.

The circumstances of you meeting Estarossa were strange indeed. You were just hearing a loud crash one day and rushed to its direction where you found him.

You let him stay with you and got to know him, he was banned from his homeland by his father who thought of him as a disgrace.

You felt sorry for him, in the time you spent with him you couldn´t understand his father, Estarossa was wonderful. To you at least.

It was funny, teaching a demon human manners and customs. All his confused reactions and the way he tried so hard to understand made your heart jump.

He was pretty cute for a demon and soon you found yourself more than intrigued by him.

The way he made a warm feeling spread in your chest whenever he was around and made your head spin whenever he looked at you.

And that smirk that made your knees weak…

He was really something.

Of course Estarossa noticed you too, how could he not? You were wonderful, you made him experience what kindness was, something so foreign to him.

You were absolutely beautiful, teaching him your ways, you were never afraid of him, despite his heritage. It took his breath away.

And when you smiled at him, his hearts beat faster.

Maybe it wasn´t so bad that his father banned him, exiled him to a strange place.

Estarossa liked it more than he bargained for.

One day you were out to buy food.

When you walked through the market, Estarossa noticed your bright smile that made your eyes sparkle. You were greeting everyone, you seemed to be quite popular in your village.

Conversing with the salesmen and purchasing their items seemed to be something you liked doing, he saw the happiness emerge from your face.

But one particular salesman was very close to you, too close for Estarossa´s liking.

What was this feeling? He wanted to kill that man, wanted you to be as far away from him as possible. Why did he want to put an arm around you right now? Why did he want to pull you close?

“(Y/N), step away from that man, he´s dangerous” Estarossa came closer to you to protect you, you just looked at him perplexed.

“But he was just making some compliments, what´s wrong, Estarossa?” you asked him, gently putting your hand on his arm, at this point the salesman left the scene.

“I don´t like the way he looks at you. He´s got ill intentions, it makes me want to punch him” he pouted, looking sideways and now you understood.

You giggled slightly as you took his hand and tried to calm him down.

“OH! You´re jealous!” you exclaimed, still chuckling.

Estarossa didn´t seem to understand why you were so amused by this, so you explained the feeling of jealousy to him.

“Well, you´re jealous when you like someone very much, maybe even love them and then someone else gets close to them, but the bad thing is that it´s them and not you. So you get angry that someone is trying to steal your person of interest away. But, you have nothing to worry about!” you smiled at him, hoping he got the hint, but he just raised an eyebrow at you.

“Because I like you too, you idiot!” you hugged him.

Suddenly the warmth in Estarossa´s heart spread throughout his body, he felt so light suddenly, so you felt the same way he did?

[baconwaffle2016]

[NNT Sin Week, Day 1: Meliodas] Firefly AU: “No Power in the ‘Verse”

So, it was basically a tie between the Hogwarts AU, something canon, and the Firefly AU. The Firefly AU won.

If you don’t know about Firefly or Serenity, just think cowboy/pirates in space. Who also intermingle Mandarin with their speech, because of backstory reasons. There’s a wiki out in the ‘verse somewhere, it won’t be hard to find.

Some glossary on the Mandarin phrases that are used here. Most are from the television show, one I picked up by looking up Chinese profanity on google. That being said, it is likely very inaccurate and I apologize in advance.

Ta ma de – basically, “damn it”

Go-se (or just go se) – “dog crap/shit”

baobei – “sweetheart”

goo yang – “motherless goats”

chi shi – “eat shit”

dong-ma – “understand,” usually in a question

And my favorite one, so far…

Cào nǐ zǔ zōng shí bā dài – “fuck your ancestors to the 18th century”

I hope you enjoy!

Meliodas was brought from his thoughts when a rag was put to his back, damp with cleaning alcohol, and he hissed as pain seared through him. It hadn’t been long since the last battle on-world, so the knife wound was still fresh and bloody, but he’d live. The bastard that done this to him didn’t though, heh—

He let out a groan he couldn’t bite back or muffle as the rag pressed into him again, agony fraying his nerves. He closed green eyes and sharply inhaled a breath, then hissed it out. When he opened his eyes again, he glared ahead.

“Ta ma de, woman,” he growled, his gaze shifting to nearly glare behind him. “You tryin’ finish the job?”

The hand holding the rag still rubbed at the wound, but at a lighter touch, hinting at apologetic. But still, she said, “Please, you’re fine. You’re just being a baby.”

“Are you always this charming with your patients, or am I just that gorram special?”

“You’re one of the few soldiers in this damn platoon who’s on my slab the most. If anything, I have to question how highly you regard me.”

Meliodas snorted, his mouth quirking into a smirk. He rolled the shoulder that wasn’t wounded, but still aching from atrophy, and then sat up straight from his previous cringing position. Raising a brow, he said wryly, “Maybe I wouldn’t have to see you like this if you let me visit you.” 

She sighed out a near laugh, sardonic but musical. She patted the knife wound again before removing the rag, and then rubbing in a salve to heal the damaged tissue. Then she took out a needle and thread, and began to gently suture the wound; she placed her free hand on his unwounded shoulder for leverage.

“This is where I work, Mel. It’s not exactly a place for a rendezvous,” she told him. 

Meliodas smiled and placed his hand over hers, his fingers gently stroking her skin. Her hands weren’t as smooth as they were a year and a half ago—these weren’t just hands that healed anymore, they’d learned to harm others too, with guns and knives and even by curling into fists that slammed into jaws like lightning cracking rock—but he still reveled in the softness that remained. He turned and tilted his head to lay kisses along the back of her hand. When he heard her soft intake of breath, hardly a gasp, he smirked and lingered his lips on her wrist bone. 

“We can meet in my tent,” he offered. 

“I-I, that’s, I mean,” she stammered before clearing her throat and saying, in a tone that carried the authority of a soldier, “Absolutely not!”

“It wouldn’t be any trouble, I can just kick Ban out.”

“Th-that’s not the point!”

“There’s also a pretty decent inn back in town. Roaches don’t even look that big—” 

“Oh, gorram it, Meliodas!” 

“—and maybe eat a meal that isn’t canned beans, for once,” he added with a dry chuckle, even as his stomach clenched in longing.

(Damn it, he just wanted this war to end already, and finally be free to live without the rutting Alliance holding him and everyone else down.) 

She sighed and nearly bit out, her Londinium accent beginning to bleed through, “Meliodas, I have to stitch this up properly so you can heal.” 

“Eh, you always do it shiny-like, no matter what.” 

She said nothing to that, instead seemed to focus on finishing the stitch. When at the end of the suture, she snapped the thread and tied it off. Then she let out a sigh that sounded satisfied and then dabbed the stitch with another salve to clot the wound. After a pause, Meliodas rolled his shoulders experimentally. The wound would smart for a few days, but it was more or less good as new.

He finally turned to look at her, to watch as she washed her hands in the sink. She was dressed in a loose purple button down with a brown leather vest clasped tight to her and a pair of beige pants that were pulled taut to her body in a way that made heat tingle up his spine. When she turned around to face him with those eyes, big and blue like the ocean but bright like a star, and that slight curve of her mouth—Meliodas won’t lie, it made his heart go a little wild. Someone like her had no right to look so shiny, not during a war like this.

No star in the ‘verse could shine as bright as her. 

As if she’d read his mind, pink rose to her cheeks, the blue in her eyes flaring self-consciously.  

“What?” she asked, then glanced down at herself. “What’s wrong?” 

Meliodas leaned back on his elbows, regarding her with a warm smile. “Nothing. Just thinking about what I’ll be doing after the war.” 

She scoffed, then while rolling her eyes, she placed her hands on her hips. Those same hips rolled to the side, cocking in a gesture that read irritation, but made Meliodas grin regardless.

“And what exactly will you be doing after the war?” was her question, her right brow giving a wry quirk.

Meliodas smirked and spun around to face her, legs hanging over the slab, and reached out to loop his index and middle fingers through the loops of her trousers and tug her to him. She kept frowning, even as the blush on her cheeks darkened to red, but stepped closer.

“I actually want to set up a bar somewhere on the outer planets. Maybe on Whitefall, or Persephone,” said Meliodas, while settling one hand on her waist and stroking his thumb against her hip. His smile towards her turned warm. “I was thinking maybe you could join me.”

She laughed, then placed her hands on his shoulders, drawing close enough to nearly brush her forehead against his. Her smile was wistful, as if in memory. 

“That does sound nice,” she said. Then she smirked. “But what would I do? Wait on customers in my scrubs?”

Meliodas cringed, mocked a gag. “Oh, ew. No way, that’s not nearly sexy enough. Nurse uniform or bust.” 

“I’m a trauma surgeon.”

“Ruttin’ good one too. But if you’re gonna be my waitress, you gotta wear somethin’ to show a bit of that skin—y’know, for tips.” 

“Yeah, because it’s not for your benefit or anything.”

“Absolutely not,” he claimed, already thinking of what hot number she’d look best in. “Customers’ needs gotta be met first.” 

“It’s nice to know that this future you picture of us has me retaining such dignity,” she replied flatly. 

Meliodas snickered and hugged her close enough for him to turn his head and leave kisses along her neck. She giggled but then tried to push him away.

“No, stop, I’m still mad at you, you piece of go-se!” 

“Yeah?” He smiled and trailed kisses up to her jaw, then around to her mouth. “What can I do to make you happy?” 

“How about not getting knifed in a fight with the Alliance?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard? War scars are the new tattoos, baobei.”

She let out a groan and tipped her head back. Then when she faced him again, despite her scowl, she grasped the sides of his neck and leaned in to kiss him. Her mouth was soft and moved over his in a way that implied everything but anger; he groaned and answered the kiss with his own, one hand moving to rest on her back while the other went to thread through her short hair (silver, like starlight). 

Before the kiss could deepen, she parted from him and looked at him with watery blue eyes—a vulnerability she rarely showed anymore, since she joined the Independents—and bit her lip. 

“Just promise me you’ll come out of Serenity Valley in one piece,” she said. 

Meliodas paused, unsure what to promise. In a war, even one on the brink of ending, the future was always uncertain. He didn’t want to open either of their hearts with pretty promises, only to pierce them with regrets. But he hated it when she felt unsure, when she felt scared. In the time since they’ve known each other, which many will argue had been short, he had grown incredibly in tune with her. Sometimes, when they were sharing a bed and whispering secrets beneath sheets, Meliodas swore even their hearts were in sync.

(Stupid. So fucking stupid…)

“I promise that I’ll do my best to, that we both leave here alive,” he decided. Then after a thought, he added, “And maybe Ban, because we could use a family pet.”

She snorted, then began giggling so hard her nose pinched cutely. Meliodas smiled back and closed his eyes. She had such a beautiful smile…

 …

 …

 …

 …

 There was a daze, a vision of black—blacker than the vast cold, some might argue—and with that came the sounds, that of gunfire, explosions, cries of pain, and yells to “Fall back, fall back, gorram it!” and of course, the sound of ships touching down. The sounds were muted, and with the darkness overwhelming his mind, it felt like he was drowning. But there was one sound, one voice that rang out clearer than the others—just like always. 

“…Mel.” 

He clenched his eyes tightly closed. No. 

“Mel? What’s going on…?” 

Please. 

“—Meliodas!” 

Just be quiet, for once, he prayed, even as his mouth opened to rasp, like a scripted line he’d long memorized, “…I’m so sorry, baobei. We lost.” 

“…Captain?” 

Meliodas woke with a gasp, his green eyes snapping wide open. He blinked, put his vision into focus, and he realized he had fallen asleep atop the kitchen table while using his folded arms as a makeshift pillow. His mouth tasted sour, his throat was dry, and his head throbbed in a way it hadn’t in a long, long time. Groaning, he ran his hands through his hair and grasped the side of his head. What happened last night?

A near snarling snore from across the table. Meliodas glanced to see Ban leaning back against a chair, empty bottle still in hand. Then, it all came back. 

(“To Unification Day!” Ban slurred, his grin bitter and eyes red from lack of sleep—neither he nor Meliodas ever slept well in the days leading to the end of the War—and his right hand (no longer flesh, but metal, because most of his arm had to be amputated to let him live) holding an amber bottle of a liquid that could probably shrivel the paint on the ship. “May those gorram goo yang chi shi for the rest of their days!”

Meliodas snickered, then held up his own bottle as he claimed, “To the Alliance, the biggest sons of bitches on this side of the ‘verse. Cào nǐ zǔ zōng shí bā dài!”

“Ooh, that was a good one, Cap~”

“I try.”

Sharing sardonic grins, they clinked their bottles together and drank to their defeat, their misery, and those they lost in the War. They continued to drink and talk into the night, probably keeping up many members of the crew but not really caring, emptying bottle after bottle—except one, which stood at the end of the table, in front of an empty chair.

That bottle was for—) 

“…Elizabeth.”

Meliodas snapped his head around to face the doorway into the dining room. There stood Elaine, her expression blank and her gaze clouded; the dress she was wearing was a loose sundress, likely something she borrowed from Diane, and on her feet was a pair of combat boots. She was a young woman of at least twenty-one, with wide caramel eyes and a baby face that made her look younger than she was, along with her petite form. He stared at her with wide green eyes.

“How do you know that name?” he asked, his voice cold and holding a danger he couldn’t hold back. No one should know that name, much less anyone on his crew; no one except Ban. “How—?”

“You were calling for her, all night,” said Elaine, her voice calm, almost in a daze. As his eyes narrowed, she lifted a hand to poke her head with her finger. “From in here.” 

Meliodas remained silent, except for the deep inhale and exhales he released to keep his calm. It’s not her fault, he reminded himself with clenched teeth. The Alliance did this to her.

It didn’t make him feel any less hurt though, which he hated. Once upon a time, her name brought joy and hope for a future; now, just hearing her name felt like shrapnel embedding into his chest. Like a war wound that flared up occasionally, a reminder of what had once been. And knowing what had happened to Elaine didn’t make her piercing stare any less unnerving. Meliodas quickly turned away and got up from his seat, walking around to where Ban was still sleeping.

“Don’t ever say that name again, dong-ma?” He ordered her. “And please, try not to read my mind. You won’t like all you find in there.”

Elaine kept staring. He didn’t turn to see her, but he could feel her stare. 

“Brother needs to see you on the bridge. He says that we got a wave from Gowther, who got some information from a client,” she said. “Says that we have a job.” 

“…Tell your brother I’ll be there in a bit. Thank you.” 

She stared at him some more, making Meliodas’ neck tingle with discomfort, despite knowing he shouldn’t feel this way.

(Go-se, though. What did those bastards do to her?) 

Meliodas wondered for a moment before shaking his head. That question wasn’t for him to ask, let alone investigate. She’s not his sister, after all; as captain, his responsibility over her only goes so far.  Honestly, if her brother wasn’t such a skilled pilot, Elaine and Harlequin probably would have been marooned on a dusty moon somewhere. Meliodas placed his hand on Ban’s good shoulder and shook him awake.

“What, what, what’s going on?” Ban cried out in a panic, his eyes for a moment in a furious daze, forgetting where he was. Then he blinked at Meliodas and calmed down, his shoulders slumping like he was holding the world. With an exhale, he leaned forward and threaded his metal hand through his hair. “Shit…probably shouldn’t have drunk so much.”

“C’mon,” Meliodas said, patting his shoulder again. “Gowther’s on the Cortex. He’s got news ‘bout a job.”

“Oh, awesome~” Ban giggled rather madly and rubbed his hands. “Money, money, money—”

“—Which you’ll be sharing a percentage of with the rest of the crew.”

“Aw, Cap’n!” 

“That’s how it is.”

“Fine,” Ban groaned and walked out of the kitchen/dining area.

Meliodas began to follow but paused when he passed the untouched bottle from the night before, the bottle that should have been hers. After some thought, he reached out and took the bottle. He stared at it for a moment before reaching for it and taking a swig, then another. Once the bottle was empty, he nearly slammed it back down on the table and went off to run his ship.

[prolestari]

My spamming continues with another new oneshot, called Before Her. It’s a reinterpretation of chapter 248. You can check it out on FFNet or AO3. An excerpt is below. Warning for angst. Much thanks to @galfridus1 and @thegoddesselizabeth for listening to me talk about this for two days.

Before her, there was darkness. There was life: eating and hunting and killing, blood and fire and the spark of pain. There was color and taste and sound, the feel of dragon scales being pulled from soft flesh, the brush of wind against his face as he took off into the air, the heavy pressure of a sword. It was a full life, a good life. But it was all in darkness.

He sits in the castle that is not his own and ponders this darkness now. Elizabeth is pacing in the room, and he wants to reach out and touch her. The light hovers just beyond his vision, and maybe, just maybe, if he reaches and snatches her up, then he can have the light for his own—

(Don't hurt her. I'll kill you.)

He smirks at that. As if death is an option for any of them.

His head is bowed and he stares at his hands. The pressure on him now is immense, more than he has felt in an age. It is her fault he is like this. The dark life was better than this. Because now that he has known what emotions are, now that he has felt more than the satisfaction of hearing a scream or the warmth of the blood that covers his hands, the loss is difficult to comprehend. White light and soft feathers and trembling lips had become his world, and it's gone now, all because she—

No, it is his fault. The one who took the emotions, the one who cursed them and set him on this never-ending path. Oh how he will enjoy ripping the power of the demon clan right out from his body, the spray of gore from the sword he will plunge down his throat. Nothing will stop him from taking what he wants.

(Do you even know what you want, anymore?)

"Meliodas, please. You can't do this."

That voice breaks through the dark thoughts.

"There has to be another way. You can't become the demon king!"

He lifts his head, already heavy, even without the crown.

"Please understand, Elizabeth." He is formal, direct. Meliodas will not allow her to affect him any more than she already has. It's a dangerous balance, to keep her close and at arm's length, but he must if he is to survive this. If they both will survive this.

He can see in her eyes immediately that she is not pleased. Good, he thinks. Make her hate you.

(As if she could. As if you could. As if she is not already living inside of y—)

"This is the only means I have left." He is speaking to himself as much as to her now. "'I will break this curse, no matter what it takes.' That is the promise I made to you."

"But I'm scared," she answers. He should feel a tightening in his chest, a little twist in his heart to know she is afraid. He should want to hold her and comfort her, and find (hurt kill) the source of her fear. He should be experiencing it in his head and his chest and his heart. But he does not, and that emptiness fills with anger without any other emotion to take its place.

As she speaks, he leans forward, pressing his fist into his stomach. Perhaps if he causes his own pain, he can spark something. Fake the pain of losing her and losing this, and it will lead to true, honest pain. He grinds his knuckles into his skin, feeling the bruises form. This is where it happens, isn't it? Right here, in the stomach, below the ribcage? He would laugh if he wasn't so pathetic, trying to mimic emotion.

"The demon king's power is great," he says quietly. And he hates that, he hates how much more powerful the old god still is. Even with half of his magic split among the ten, even sealed away into Purgatory, the god could still crush him. Crush all of them.

"I will not be able to stay in Britannia anymore." This is also heavy on him, and not just because of her. There is grass here, and rain, and sweet cream and ale and the smell of cedar. He cannot feel anymore but he remembers, the memories like shackles that drag him into the darkness. Why couldn't the king have stolen his memories instead of his emotions? One without the other is torture… although that was most likely the entire point.