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loveshotzz · 11 months

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My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Hell N Back

summary: A flash flood warning, a week of cancelled plans, and the night Steve Harrington shows up at your front door.

wc: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ mentions of weed smoking (r), thigh riding, fingering, oral (fem receiving) and you know I can’t get enough of making Steve cum in his pants.

A/N: thank you all for your patience with this one, and thank you for reading 🥹♥️

🎃<- chapter two | mini series masterlist

It felt like it had been raining for days, the downpour never ceasing until there were flash flood warnings lighting up the bottom of your TV screen by the end of the week. You hadn’t seen Steve since Tina’s party, every plan that your group had getting canceled by the clouds that never seemed to want to leave Hawkins.

Heavy droplets hit your window in the living room in sporadic patterns, the wind outside making the howling noise you’ve only ever heard on your favorite horror movies. The flicker of your candles dance along your walls, mixing with the warm glow of your string lights just like that night, and for once you don’t try and stop the thoughts of him that threaten to consume the rest of your evening.

Laying bundled up on the couch in a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized sweater, the black and white sci fi movie The Empire of The Ants plays on your TV while Elvira’s bubble gum sweet voice cracks lewd jokes over the B rated film. The Halloween Macabre special was your only saving grace this week, that and the thick fuzzy Jack O Lantern socks on your feet gifted from Robin.

You giggle to yourself at a joke about her boobs in particular, the half smoked joint on your coffee table makes it easy to wonder if Steve would have thought it was funny too.

Jesus Christ.

You huff a little, pulling the throw blanket closer to your chin, eyebrows furrowing in a pout.

How did this happen? When did this happen?

Before you have time to think too hard about it, lights flash behind your blinds dancing across the exposed glass in the opening from outside. You keep your eyes trained on it until they cut and the darkness from before takes over, shrugging it off to it being your neighbor coming home from work. Shuffling your feet under your blanket, you burrow yourself further into the cushions finally getting the level of comfort you’d been searching for since the movie started, but it only lasts a couple of minutes. Three melodic knocks rattle your front door, scaring you out of your fleece cocoon and onto your carpeted floor.

“God dammit!” You grunt, pushing yourself up and tossing the blanket on the couch, “Fucking Munson.”

It’s only when you get halfway to your door that you realize it’s definitely not Eddie or he would have let himself in with the spare. Your footsteps stop as you remember that this is actually how every single horror movie starts out. It’s almost as if whoever it is can read your mind, and a familiar voice calls out from the other side.

“It’s Steve!”

Relief floods your system, and your shoulders slump as your heart rate starts to calm, but then the realization that Steve Harrington was on the other side of your door unannounced just kicks it back up again. Especially when you look down at what you’re wearing.

“If this is weird or you have someone over, I can leave!“ He talks loud enough to be heard over the rain, but it still threatens to drown him out.

“No!” You don’t mean to yell when you answer, clearing your throat, you try to play it off when you continue, “I’m coming, sorry I’m coming!”

Taking a deep breath you pad the few extra steps to your door, straightening your shoulders before your fingers wrap around the handle. There’s a silent count to three before you actually open it.

The sound of the rain you’d only heard muffled from behind your window grows tenfold, making you wince at the difference at just how hard it’s still coming down. A chilled mist hits your exposed skin from the wind, sending a shiver down your spine and you’re met face to face with a very wet version of the boy you were just thinking about.

“Jesus, Steve! Why didn’t you call?!” You scold, stepping aside to let him into the warmth of your apartment. Shutting the door quickly behind him, a flash of lighting illuminates half the night sky followed by a low roll of thunder.

“I know, I know.” He gives, running a hand through his soaked hair pushing it out of his face. His smile almost looks victorious when he shows you the whites of his teeth. “My power went out.”

His Hawkins Community College sweater clings to parts of his stomach and chest, the worn heather gray cotton turning dark. The water makes the blue denim on his legs even tighter than normal, sticking to him like a second skin and you have to actively stop your eyes from lingering as he drips a mess onto your floor. His white sneakers squish, completely drenched down to his socks and he still somehow looks handsome as ever.

“Robin lives like two blocks away from you.” You arch your brow, flipping your lock to stop anymore horror movie cliches from happening, only for the string lights in your living room to flicker as you do. The energy in the air is laughing at you.

Steve’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of the rosy pink they were from the cold of the storm, and that’s when you notice the shopping bag.

“Did your power actually go out?” The corners of your mouth twitch, crossing your arms across your chest. The bottom hem of your sweater lifts higher up your thighs and Steve licks his lips, following it.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he huffs out an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “What a weird lie, right?”

“Kinda,” you giggle, eyes catching the colorful packaging of the popcorn and Red Vines inside the plastic in his hand, the knot in your stomach tightens knowing that he’s been thinking about you too.

“I just felt like if I had called I wouldn’t-“ he coughs looking anywhere but you, “I heard from Eddie that Elvira’s Halloween special was on tonight and I just thought, you know we had kinda talked about it before-“

“Do you want to get out of those clothes?” You cut him off, making his eyes snap up wide. “I mean, wow, that came out a little forward.”

It’s your turn to laugh awkwardly.

“Eddie just leaves stuff here all the time, I clean it obviously or it’d make my place reek.” You try to explain in an attempt to break the tension and it works when you get that lopsided grin that makes you go shy. “I’m sure I’ve got some sweats and a shirt that would fit, I can throw your wet clothes in the dryer if you want?”

Steve’s shoulders relax, nodding, pushing back that loose strand that drips falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

——

When Steve hands you his wet clothes through the crack of your bathroom door, it makes your brain stop working for a second. You catch a glimpse of his bare back in the mirror, littered with more moles and freckles that would make the sky hidden behind the clouds jealous. With thicker thighs than your best friend, it makes the cotton of the sweatpants that hang low on his hips stretch tight over his butt. The dark patch of chest hair that’s always just been teased comes into full view right in front of you and your throat goes dry. Why did it look so soft?

Steve catches you staring, the tips of his ears dusting red before mumbling a mess of sorry’s shutting the door again. You shout an awkward apology of your own, soft thumps on your carpet as you hurry the wet clothes to your dryer. Silently scolding yourself to get it together, feeling the heat rise from your neck to your face, even warming your ears. God, he looked even better without a shirt on.

“You’re good, everything’s chill, you’re totally fine it’s just Steve.” You whisper under your breath, tossing the clothes into the machine with a wet plop. The last part has you rolling your own eyes at yourself, throwing in a couple of dryer sheets for good measure.

Your nerves make you want to keep busy, so you start rummaging through the bag he brought in the kitchen. Butterflies taking flight in your rib cage when it’s everything the two of you had picked out that first night. You bite your lip to hide your smile, opening the popcorn to put in the microwave when you hear the soft click of the bathroom door opening. His feet sound heavier than yours on the carpet,and you make sure to have your back towards him when he finally enters the kitchen. Plugging in the minutes, the loud beeps of your microwave only add to the tension that hangs thick, almost suffocating you in the air.

“I mean, everything fits… I guess.”

He breaks the silence right as the low hum kicks on and you watch the small bag start to spin on the glass plate. You collect yourself quietly before turning around, not expecting the sight you’re met with to send you into a fit of giggles. Slapping a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stop it, you take in the faded black Iron Maiden shirt you gave him.

You realize now with him standing in front of you that it's a size too small for the King of Hawkins, probably one of Eddie’s old one’s from high school. The worn fabric fits tight over his chest, making ‘Eddie’s’ face stretch distorted over his pecs. The sleeves look ready to burst at the seams, and the bottom hem refuses to meet the top of his sweats. Revealing a little sliver of his tan skin and the beginnings of the thick happy trail you’ve shamelessly thought so much about.

It’s the cutest you think he’s ever looked, besides that one summer he worked at Scoops Ahoy.

“Hey! That doesn’t make me feel very good.” Steve chuckles, his cheeks becoming a permanent shade of red for the night.

“No, no, you look cute!” You try to get out, but the snort he gives you in response makes you giggle harder. “I promise, I wouldn’t lie to you!”

The way your lips twitch when you say it makes his eyes roll, but even with a shake of his head, the smile on his face gives him away. He can’t be mad, not when you just called him cute.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He runs a hand through his hair that’s already started to dry, curling in wisps behind his ears. The gold that kisses the tips shimmers in the low light of the kitchen.

The unexpected first loud pops of the kernels stop any other words that sit on the tips of your tongues, making you both jump at the sudden outburst.

“Why don’t you go warm up on the couch, since you decided to come over for a date during the storm of the century and I’ll bring the snacks out.” You try to keep your tone as even as possible, refusing to meet his eyes after saying the ‘D’ word, busying yourself again with grabbing cups for some hot tea.

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat from across the room in the moment of silence that follows. Not even realizing you're holding your breath until you feel the heat of his palm against the small of your back and it exhales through nervous lips.

He smells like the rain that won’t stop pouring outside with notes of cedar from his cologne. There’s an undertone of the lilac from your dryer sheets. He’s spring in the middle of autumn, leaning in close to your ear.

“Only if I get to be the big spoon again.”

The way your cheeks push up, and your lashes flutter against the tops of them when he makes his intentions clear, he thinks he’d drive through a hurricane to get to you.

——-

When you get to the living room he’s lying where you were earlier, doing his best to get comfortable, but the size of the shirt has him pulling at the sleeves to get them to loosen up. Muttering under his breath, your giggle is what catches his attention. Big chestnut eyes look up at you, and all the annoyance on his face drains with a smile he can’t contain.

“What? It’s literally cutting off my circulation.” He laughs sitting up, his hair now completely out of control. “You sure this is Munson’s?”

“Yes, but I’m starting to think from, like, junior year.” You try to hide your grin when his jaw drops in disbelief.

“That explains a lot,” he scoffs

You watch him lean forward to grab a handful of the popcorn, the fabric restricting him again, and both of you hear the faint sounds of a tear. His eyes lock with your in a dead stare making you throw your head back in a full bellied laugh. Rib cage tightening just like your chest with the realization of how much you actually like him.

“I’m glad you’re having a good laugh, you’re lucky you’re so pretty, I’ll tell you that much.” He grumbles reaching forward for the popcorn again only this time is successful, probably due to the rip, and something shifts in the air when his words sink in.

“Sometimes it gets me out of things.” You grin, a little shy just for him.

“I’m not surprised in the slightest.” He licks the butter off of his fingers, pink lips wrapping around the tips as he leans back into the cushions. He watches how it makes your thighs press, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“Are you gonna keep hogging the couch or are you makin’ room for me?” You fake annoyance gesturing toward the way he's manspread on the cushions, doing your best to try and cover up how flustered you feel, but the way his eyes seem to light up tells you it isn’t working.

Shifting himself back to lay on his side, he lifts the covers with raised eyebrows and the kind of shit eating grin you want to kiss off of him.

“I was just waiting to see if you were gonna stand the whole movie or not.”

You make him snort when you roll your eyes, and he tries to play it cool when the smell of your apple blossom body wash fills his senses as you take the small space he’s made for you next to him. Swallowing hard, you leave a little bit of room between you, the nerves in your stomach starting to feel like an Olympic gymnast is competing for the gold. The heat of his breath fans against the back of your neck, his own insecurity making it come out a little shaky having you this close again. The tension breaks when he goes to wrap his arm around you and another sound of a rip hits both your ears.

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles over your fit of giggles, his face turning a deeper shade of red that you can’t see. “I swear I’m not trying to take my clothes off but this is not working honey.”

His laugh puffs across your skin, making goosebumps rise when he shifts to sit up a little bit. Turning your head, you meet his anxious eyes over your shoulder.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you shirtless Harrington,” you tease, your own face heating up in memory of the view you got minutes ago in your bathroom.

“It’s not, like, going to make you uncomfortable or anything right? I swear this isn’t like a move - not that I don’t want to make a move -“ The boy looks panicked, his signature tell of running his hand through his hair coming into play.

“Steve, it’s fine, take it off” you giggle, “It’s clearly a size too small.”

He huffs out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, rosy cheeks deflating before a toothy grin spreads across his face.

“Okay, yeah, al-alright.”

You turn your attention back to the TV to give him some ‘privacy’, your heart going into overdrive when you see the fabric drop to the floor in front of you. The couch shifts under his weight as he lays back down, and for a second you think you can hear his heart over your own. Tentative hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging into your softness when he pulls you in, the warmth of his bare chest seeps through the thick fabric of your sweater and your body melts against it. You feel the way it makes him relax behind you, a stubble covered chin hooking over your shoulder while your feet tangle with his. A content hum, leaves from between his lips next to your ear, the tip of his nose nudging behind it as he snuggles closer and it feels like he’s breathing you in.

“Mmm, so what’d I miss?” His voice comes out a little sleepy, and you hate the way it makes your thighs press. You wonder if he could feel it.

“So basically this woman cons people to buy houses on this island,” you start, stuttering when you feel the tips of his fingers under your sweater that sits rucked up to your waist, “And when they get there someone had dumped human waste creating these giant ants that hate humans.”

“Oh that’s…interesting,” he tries, making you laugh and it has him smiling into the crook of your neck.

“It’s ridiculous, it’s okay, that’s why she’s making fun of it.” You grin, running your fingers down his forearm, finding his hand that's made a home on the curve of your tummy to give it a reassuring squeeze.

He takes the opportunity to keep you there, intertwining your fingers and pulling you even closer. The sound of the rain against your window gets heavier, and the roll of thunder gets louder. The flicker of your candles makes the storm raging outside seem relaxing from the inside, and you can’t believe he drove all the way over here in this, just to cuddle with you on the couch. Somehow trying to burrow yourself into him even deeper, the wiggle of your hips when you readjust makes the air shift.

Your sleep shorts and the cotton of his sweatpants don’t hide what his jeans did. His grip on your hand tightens, and he bites his tongue to stop the moan that's begging to slip out when you do it again. His nose nudges harder behind your ear, exhaling a huff through it that makes you shiver.

“Honey,” it comes out as more of a plea than a warning, his lips that you’ve yet to feel against your own ghosting against the sensitive spot on your neck.

The feeling of how much he wants you pressing into the small of your back is what gives you the courage to turn around in his arms, ready to finally do what you’ve wanted since the last time you found yourself here. He lets your fingers slip through his, always keeping his palm against your skin until it sits on the small of your back. Both of yours land on the dark patch of hair on his chest that's even softer than it looks, slowly sliding them up till the pads of your thumbs trace his collar bone. With your head resting on one of his arms, his other pulls your bodies flush together before his thigh finds space between your own sliding you close enough for your noses to brush.

His half lidded eyes meet yours, and your breath catches in your throat when you see how they darken. He takes his time, letting his hand roam on its way from your back, fingers tracing up your ribs before the warmth of his big palm envelopes the already heated skin on your cheek. His gaze flicks down to your parted lips, licking his own while his thumb traces the pout begging him for a kiss.

“Please,” he whispers ,not knowing he beat you to it.

The connection is soft at first, just your top lip brushing against his bottom but it’s enough to make every inch of your skin come alive. A low groan rumbling deep from his chest, vibrating against your hands. He meets your eyes one more time down the slope of his nose before he closes the distance with nothing held back anymore, kissing you in a way that makes you feel like you’ve never been kissed the right way before. It’s like he knows just how to make your toes curl when they slot together, the tip of his tongue wasting no time when you sigh giving him the opening he needs. The blunt ends of your nails dig into the warmth of his skin, leaving half crescent moons over his pecs that’ll be hidden by the thick chestnut hair that covers them.

Your tongue meets his eagerly, cedar and rain making you dizzy when the top of his thigh adds pressure to the heat between your legs. Your noses bump, teeth scraping together while his hand leaves your cheek to squeeze at your hips encouraging the small roll they start to do on their own. The mess in your underwear only gets worse letting you move against the hard muscle with ease, your fingers weaving in the soft hair at the nape of his neck when he flexes it for you. He growls low when you give the roots a gentle pull at the same time your teeth tug at his bottom lip, his self control to try and be a gentleman slipping away.

“Jesus Christ baby,” Steve gasps, the new nickname making you smile when you give him a softer kiss loving the way it makes his skin flush.

“You started it,” you whisper, watching the way his cheeks push up before he chases you for another one, which you gladly give, letting your lips linger when he hooks your leg over his hip.

Close as close can get.

“Me?” He tuts, letting his hand slide up your thigh before squeezing at the curve of your ass, glancing down to see how you still roll against him “I don’t think so, you’ve been trying to take my clothes off since I walked through the door.”

He throws his head back with a laugh when you scoff, and you pretend to push him away only for his hold on you to tighten. His lips connect anywhere but yours as you play hard to get, trailing a wet path to your neck, teeth nipping at the spot that gets a sound from you that has him kicking up in his sweats. So he does it again, and this time he can’t stop the grind of his hips that meet yours when he gets you saying his name the same way.

“And what do you think you’re doing now?” You try to tease but it comes out too breathy to be taken seriously, especially when he starts to suck where his teeth just grazed.

He grins against your skin, nosing his way up your jaw before meeting your eyes again, something softening in the gold inside them that shines through the abyss.

“You want the truth?” He asks, bringing his hand up to cup your face, the pad of his thumb tracing the small bags under your eyes with a gentle touch and all you can do is nod.

“I just want to make you feel good, god - it’s all I’ve thought about for so long. Just wanna treat you right, take things slow,” his thumb drags across your bottom lip watching the way your eyes glaze over at his words. “Take you out to nice dinners, watch all your favorite movies, hear about your day, but really what I want to do right now is make you cum on my tongue.”

“Steve,” his name comes out broken, the roll of your hips becoming more pointed, and the swelling in your chest makes you feel like you’re ready to explode.

“You want that pretty girl?” He whispers, leaning close so his lips brush against yours, his eyebrows furrowing when you grind a certain way, your clit catching his tip.

“Y-yeah,” you whimper, eyes big and pleading, turning into putty from his sweet words.

He gives you a kiss that’s more gentle than the rest, before sitting up on his haunches letting you fall into the empty space on your back. A big hand wrapping around your ankle, moving your leg out of his way so you’re spread with him in the middle. Leaning forward, his fingers curl around the elastic band of your sleep shorts, giving you one last look from under his lashes before tugging them down your thighs, throwing them on the floor with his shirt.

“Shit - baby.” He groans, running a hand through his hair when he sees the effect he really has on you. “Better than my dreams.”

All the blood rushes to your cheeks from his affection, as gentle hands run up your calves when he starts to lean forward, fingers curling under your knees to lift them over his freckled shoulders. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you start to feel shy exposed to him like this for the first time. A kaleidoscope of new feelings settles deep in your gut when his hot breath hits your core, thighs tensing that the pads of his thumbs try to soothe.

He looks up at you, from between your legs pressing a soft kiss to the place where your hip meets your thigh, making your back arch.

“You okay?” He whispers after another kiss, only this one on the inside of your thigh.

“Yeah, just nervous,” you giggle, feeling the warmth on your cheeks with your hand. If anyone would have told you that you’d have Steve Harrington between your legs begging to taste you a year ago, you’d have laughed in their face.

“Want me to stop?” He rests his cheek right where he kissed, looking content just to be doing this.

“No.” You smirk, reaching down to run a hand through his hair that was just begging for it, pushing back the stray that falls over his forehead.

He smiles, closing his eyes leaning into your touch for a minute before he turns his head, lips meeting your soft skin where he starts a path to where you want him most. You feel his breath and it sends a shiver down your spine, the tip of his nose spreading you apart first. He applies the kind of pressure against your bundle of nerves that makes you gasp, letting his tongue follow, collecting what you’ve already given him.

“Oh my god, Steve,” you whine, when he flattens the pink muscle doing it again, groaning loudly at the taste of you.

“So fuckin’ sweet, god, honey,” he mumbles against your cunt, replacing his nose with his lips, sucking your clit in a greedy way that makes your eyes hit the back of your head.

His fingers dig hard enough into the meat of your thighs, that you’re sure they’ll be bruises in the morning. The tip of his tongue tracing your entrance that flutters around him, threatening to suck him in and he can’t help himself, giving your body what it wants. Both your hands find their way to his hair, tangling your fingers in his honey colored locks searching for purchase when he starts to taste your walls, creating a steady rhythm that has you rocking against his face for more.

“Yeah, you like that?” He grunts, extending his tongue as far as it can go, drool and slick starting to drip down your thighs as he starts to lose himself in you.

“Uh-huh,” is all you manage to get out, jaw going slack at the way he feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, like he’s thought about this longer than a few weeks.

One of his hands lets go of your thigh while he starts to focus his attention back on your clit making you gasp when you feel the thickness of his finger press itself against where his tongue just was. The stretch makes you keen when he pushes one knuckle deep with ease, distracting you when he pushes the second one in as he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves.

“God - baby,” he gasps, when your walls take the third knuckle in by themselves, and it’s only then you notice the way he’s rutting against the couch in search of his own friction.

Your head pushes back into the cushions when he curves it, hitting the spot that only you’ve ever found on your own, and it has you babbling, your hips rolling up greedily for more which he gives you when he adds a second finger. He sets a pace that has your lashes fluttering against your cheeks after he lets you adjust to feeling so full.

“Come on, I can feel it, you’re close huh?” He asks against your clit, making you shudder, nodding your head when he starts flicking it with a wild tongue.

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” you whine, eyes closing tight, the band inside of you going taut, your hips grinding against his face without abandon as you try to take his fingers even deeper.

The sound of his name leaving your kiss bitten lips like a prayer makes a moan rumble deep from his chest, and it vibrates against your cunt, giving you just enough extra stimulation to make it snap. Vision going white behind your eyes, your body tenses while your mouth opens in a scream that falls on deaf ears when nothing actually comes out.

“Honey, honey, honey,” he babbles, his hips stuttering while his tongue refuses to stop despite the way your body shakes.

You murmur his name in a daze, trying to push his head away as you reach the verge of overstimulation and it takes him the third shove for him to finally listen, addicted to the way you taste. Feeling empty when he pulls his fingers out, your body betrays you trying to get them to stay. He kisses the inside of both of your thighs, smirking against your skin when your legs twitch because of it, slowly sliding his body up the length of yours. Skin flushed, and lips shining, you’d be embarrassed if he didn’t look like he just won the lottery.

His nose nudges yours before his lips steal a kiss that you eagerly give despite feeling so spent. Your fingers finding their way back into the hair at the nape of his neck, a smile tugging up the corners of your mouth when you feel the warmth of his own release in the cotton of the sweats.

“I hope you have another pair of pants for me.” He laughs, embarrassment making the tips of his ears turn red, the warm color only deepening when you grin and you realize you have more than just a crush on Steve Harrington.

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington thoughts

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eldritchscribblings · 2 months

Text

Ever At Odds

Thranduil X Reader

Part 2

Reader is an artist who has taken up a temporary residence in Mirkwood, but keeps bumping into an irritatingly handsome elf king. What happens when a late night encounter forces them together?

Word Count: 2876

Warnings:

swearing

part two will have smut

Notes: I'm sorryyyyyy I didn't want there to be a part two but it took me so long to write this part and I wanted to get it out asap for y'all <3 Pt 2 will be out soon, I'm moving across the country, so writing is slow rn.

A cold autumn wind blew through the halls of Mirkwood, biting into the very bones of those who dared set foot in the ancient woodland realm. In the ages past that bitter wind would have only howled, but its teeth had grown sharper in recent times. Not only did the wind sink its teeth into those unprepared for the woods, but it had turned its teeth upon its own people; the elves, as well. The time of elves on Middle Earth was drawing to an end.

You, of course, were well aware of that from your perch in Imladris, watching as elves dwindled and men rose to power. You were a long way off from leaving for the Undying Lands yourself, but you had already begun to feel that tug in your soul to move from your idle nest and wander towards the sea. And so you’d decided to bide your time by traveling middle earth and sketching all that was old and new among the elves; making a record of what you’d leave behind. It had been a comforting work to put your brush and pencils to paper and convey the millennia of love and sorrow that each individual stone and sapling possessed, and it had satiated you to know that once your work was completed you could leave Middle Earth with a contented heart. But as every tree must survive a storm at some point, your storm came in the form of an elven man with thick furrowed brows and a disposition that would make soot taste sweet; King Thranduil Oropherion of the Woodland Realm.

You’d arrived in Mirkwood nearly two years prior after being rescued from a giant spider by the guards and losing your favorite quill (poor Flutterflick) among the leaf strewn ground. After a quick interrogation, you were released into Mirkwood to do your duty, and yet everywhere you went for peace and tranquility you seemed to run into the Elven King. The first time it happened you hadn’t realized who he was until he threatened to have you locked in the dungeon for disagreeing with him on the best elven wine and whether charcoal was best used compressed or as a powder. You’d tried to avoid him after that, and yet this maze of a realm kept twisting you back towards him whenever you tried to get away. Which was how you found yourself sitting in an archway sketching your view of the vaulted ceiling within this particular area of the hall in the middle of the night, using a candlestick as a light.

It was the wee hours of the morning; a time you were certain the tall blond of your nightmares would be having one of his own, far away from where you’d secluded yourself. The only noises were the hush of a breeze blowing through an open window and the soft scratching of your pencil against the parchment you’d clipped to the thin drawing board in your lap. Your eyes darted seamlessly from the page to the section of empty hall you were drawing, your steady hand moving quickly to gesture in the wider picture so that detail could blossom with ease when you pulled out your softer charcoal. With the silent night enveloping you, it had been easy to fall into a trance of placing your pencil to paper and letting the world fall away into lines and values. You should’ve known the peace wouldn’t last.

“It’s a bit late for sketching fine architecture.” Thranduil’s voice echoed from behind you, and you sighed and pressed your lips together in irritation.

“My aim was to be uninterrupted, My King,” you spoke slowly and surely, presenting each word as nothing more than it claimed to be in hopes he would leave you alone. “It’s a bit late for anyone to roam the halls alone, don’t you think?”

“I am not alone, and neither are you now.” Realizing you had no intent to face him, he walked around and knelt in front of you with a disappointedly curious expression. “How fortunate it is that we can keep each other company on such lonesome nights.”

“Oh, please.” You met his steely blue gaze with a challenging one of your own, attempting to prove yourself unafraid and ward him off. “You and I both know that the two of us together always leads to disaster.”

“Only because you bring disaster with you everywhere.” Thranduil laughed softly and licked the pad of his forefinger before pinching out the flame of your candle between his forefinger and thumb. You were grateful for the darkness to hide a traitorous blush growing on your cheeks, undercutting your disturbed expression. “Finish your sketch in the daylight. You’ll make fewer proportional errors.”

“Is poisoning your kindness with insults meant to be amusing or alluring? Because it is neither.” The only reason you were so confident with your words was because the worst Thranduil could do is send you where you already planned to go ahead of schedule. Of course that was only in theory. In truth, a part of you enjoyed the little games you played together; the spiteful spitting of venom brought energy to your day, negative or positive. You couldn’t deny he was a handsome King, but you could deny giving him the satisfaction of knowing you held him in any regard.

“Have I misled myself on the quality of your mettle? Forgive me if I have caused any true harm.” The first sentence was a sharp retort, the same wit you had begun to expect from him. The second was genuine in a way that surprised you.

“Don’t delude yourself. The only way you could bring any harm to me is with a blade. And I doubt you’d want to stain this lovely hallway.” You responded with a similar genuineness that you hid within your humor, although by the look of his expression he seemed relieved enough to surmise he’d picked up your intent.

What the fuck was your intent? Half flirting with a widowed king? He was an elf who could toss you out a window or carry you down to the dungeons as easily as he’d carry a sack of grain. You inhaled and sharply shoved your charcoal pencil back into your pouch, looking away from Thranduil to shove the image of him carrying sacks of wheat like a handsome miller’s son out of your mind. Truth is you’d daydreamed about kissing Thranduil to shut him up as much as you’d daydreamed about killing him for the same outcome. It was strange to think of how a two letter difference changed the entire context of your fantasies.

“I am no mortal man so easily prone to violence. I take offense that you would think I am capable of such a thing.” Thranduil’s voice changed tone, causing you to look at him again. He was dead serious with a furrowed brow as he knelt before you, reaching forward to take your hand in his. “My guards brought you here and promised you safety. I will not make liars of them.”

“A noble, if impersonal, thought.” You responded with an equal amount of seriousness, gathering your supplies in one hand and placing the other in his as he helped you to a standing position. His intent mystified you, making you unsure of if you’d been wrong about him or if this was a lure to finally catch you when you least expected it. Either way, as you began to walk down the hall back to your rooms he walked beside you with the smallest hint of a smile on his otherwise serious face.

“Do you really think of me as cruel and unkind?” Thranduil asked softly after you had traversed a fair amount of the hall.

“Yes and no.” You replied after taking a moment to chew through your words. It was strange of him to ask the question, stranger still for you to answer honestly. You were friends, but it was a friendship that danced a fine line between confidants and the king and his favorite jester. “I think you capable of cruelty. I think your role requires unkindness. Your presentation fits the role you fulfill. I would no more expect a thatched roof on a palace than a wisened king to be tender hearted.”

“I don’t like the word wisened; it makes me feel old.” Thranduil interjected despite you being done speaking. “But I understand. And I appreciate your point of view. You’re insightful. It’s fitting for your role as an observer. I am curious, I always see you drawing and sketching instead of talking to your fellows. I’m curious as to what you draw when you’re not intending on showing it off to people.”

“Truth be told, it’s mostly animals and people. I carry around smaller sketchbooks for those and it’s idle work to do while I watch and listen to those around me.” You felt the words leave your mouth before you could stop them. Not even death would stop you from blabbing about your art when prodded. “Of course, for those sketches I prefer drawing with metals. You can use a stylus made of silver to make marks upon parchment as well as any charcoal. It’s quite beautiful in the light.”

“Then I must see them.” Thranduil stopped abruptly, causing you to have to turn around after several paces and realize he was at the door to your chambers. If you’d known you were close to your rooms you would’ve just stayed quiet. Having the Elven King in your bedroom, looking at your art, was a bad idea.

Art was your escape, your passion, your diary. There were notes about your feelings and poems about your life scrawled among the pages among grocery lists and drawings of cats napping in sunlight. There were also -you realized with sinking dread- one or two drawings of the King that you did not want him to see. You had to get out of this.

“Sire, it’s very late-“

“Nonsense, you’re up later than this quite frequently, as am I.” He stood by your door, waiting for you to open it for him. His excitement faltered for a moment as he seemed to consider the situation, and he then added; “If you truly do not desire it, I will not impose myself.”

“No, I simply hesitate because I am afraid you will not find my art as impressive as you hope.” Your eyes were firmly on the handle of your door as you opened it and allowed yourself and Thranduil into your rooms. He was very close to you as he entered behind you, and you caught a hint of his scent of petrichor and spices in a way that sent your head spinning.

Your rooms were simple. Far from grand with books and papers strewn about haphazardly. As you entered you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you at the state of your things, but you would not let it show. Your bed was in one corner, luckily you had remembered to make it up before leaving, but the bedside tables were covered in strewn papers and pencils. In the opposing corner there was a desk with your notebooks and sketches, and that was where Thranduil made his way to as soon as he entered.

“You live your life messily.” He stated, looking around the room before passively picking up one of your loose sketches from your desk. It was a picture of a young couple walking the halls together arm in arm, oblivious to any observer. Oblivious to you. “I do not question it. You prefer to be hidden away whenever you leave your chambers, so it must be comforting to have such things to hide yourself behind in your own dwelling.” He chuckled, glancing at you as he perused through your art, leafing through the piles of sketches on your desk. It wasn’t as if you could tell him not to, and although you were surprised at his understanding of you, you’d never admit to yourself or him whether he was right or not.

“Or perhaps you simply collect too much and want it all near you, like a raven building its nest.” Thranduil continued despite your silence, unphased by it. He reached for a drawing closer to you, his eyes meeting yours for the briefest moment that sent a shameful shiver down your spine. It was only when his gaze left you that you realized he had grabbed one of the drawings of him, but before you could protest, he had turned it over to look at it. It was one of the less embarrassing ones; he was sitting with his chin resting on his fist, staring off into some uncaptured distance. His face was peaceful and yet melancholy. It had been at one of the star celebrations that you had forgotten the name of last year; you had been sat at the sidelines happily drawing those partaking in the merriment when you had seen him. His sadness as he sat on his perch above his kin had captured your attention, and you hastened to put his likeness on your paper lest the spell of the moment be broken. He was beautiful to you in that moment, beautiful and wounded. The moment had ended with your eyes meeting and him sending a prideful smirk your way that left your stomach churning, but you would always remember how striking it was to see past his hardened exterior for one brief moment.

As you watched him then, taking in that art piece that had truly cemented your growing fascination with the widowed king, you could not decipher the emotions on his face. His brow furrowed as he traced the lines of his face as they were portrayed on paper, and he hunched over the drawing to better see its details. You almost made a joke, just to break the hideous silence, and yet something stopped you. Your words were stoppered in your throat with tenuous curiosity and something inside you told you to bite your tongue.

“I remember this night,” Thranduil whispered, tracing the roughly sketched embroidery on his portrait. “I was lost in thought, not one of them was pleasant, but my mind was determined to see the end of the chain. I could sense eyes on me, but there is always one person or another watching my every move.” He looked up at you, and the depth of his gaze was hauntingly sirenic, like a calm sea below a dark gray sky. “You were different. I saw your brow furrowed as you looked at me, always fiery and determined to find a flaw where no one else will.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face, no more than a twitch of his eyes, and yet it comforted you.

“A gap in your personified stoicism is more so due to a lack of divinity than any flaw.” The words flowed easily from your lips, and you stepped closer to him so you could look at your art. “Truthfully, when I found you ‘lacking’, I found you more fascinating than I did when I believed you perfect. Like how a fly, when caught in amber, reveals the quality of the jewel.”

“Am I to be the fly in this metaphor?” He teased, lowering the drawing and stepping closer to you.

“You are aware of what I intended, my lord.” The tone of the conversation had turned lighter, but the air remained tense. It was taking all your might to will yourself not to look at his lips, or his chest, or anywhere but his eyes or your feet. You were afraid any slight unexpected movement would be perceived the wrong way and break the wavering thread of connection between you.

“What if I were not? What if we were to spend another year misinterpreting each other? Dragging out your stay here in Mirkwood for no perceivable reason?” He seemed as hesitant to move as you were, waiting for some unknown signal to allow him to act.

“Then I suppose, should I be prevented from completing my work, I would need to stay here longer.” You were beginning to catch on. Perhaps there was more to this banter and teasing than you had originally thought. Perhaps the guilt-ridden attraction that had festered deep within your gut was mirrored in his own tumultuous emotions. You leaned slightly closer, taking your drawing from his hands and setting aside.

“To properly record Mirkwood in such sketches as yours would take decades…” Thranduil drew out the idea, but did not finish it. Instead, he stepped forward and tenderly placed his hand upon your cheek, caressing you gently. “May I kiss you?”

The thought struck you like a blind man meeting a drunken bird, and you inhaled sharply as reality dug its cruel claws into your skin. He was the king. He had asked you to kiss him. But more than the king, he was Thranduil. Your playful nemesis who was the bane of all your existence and yet whose presence you yearned for in the darkest parts of night. Was this change in your relationship worth it? Was this a risk worth taking?

“Yes.”

#thranduil x reader #the hobbit #thranduil #thrandaddy #thrandy dandy #the hobbit x reader #lotr x reader #lotr fic

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hhnguyen · 1 year

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make me proud

Bringing my Sully Reader series to a bittersweet, yet hopefully comforting end.

♢ Pairing: Tuktirey x Oldest sister!Reader, Sully family x Oldest sister!Reader

♢ Word count: 3.2k

♢ Genre: angst, sibling love, fluff, grief - Warnings: cursing, major character death

⌲ Description: Time was passing by, and with hazy memories Tuk finds herself reminiscing about the person her sissy once was.

M A S T E R L I S T

R e c o m m e n d e d p l a y l i s t :

⌲ ashes - Celine Dion ⌲ brother - Kodaline ⌲ the nights - Chlara ⌲ the call - Regina Spektor

“Hello there,” Grinning, Tuktirey watched from a safe distance at the insistent yapping from a nest of Viperwolf pups.

This pack specifically was only a couple of months old, but friendlier than those residing further away from her village, thus more used to the comings and goings of the Omitikaya and not trying to kill anyone who came too near.

Tuk found herself visiting the energetic pups several times a week, always making sure their protective mother and pack weren’t too near when she snuck closer than anyone would recommend.

But she was confident in her abilities to protect herself, the bow slung over her body never left behind when outside the borders of her home. Not to mention the two extra daggers strapped to each thigh with firm leather holsters.

Allowing herself a couple more moments of silent admiration, she swallowed back a giggle as one of the bravest of the pups came bouncing over in her direction, stumbling clumsily over its legs and trotting the last couple of feet before rubbing its leathery body against her ankle, no sign of viciousness present.

Bending down to give the creature a little scratch behind its ears, the wolf gave a yip in satisfaction, tail thumping against the ground until a far-off howl sounded.

Forgetting Tuk’s presence all the pups started to howl in reply and she used their distraction to swiftly turn back around and climb up the tree she had come from, safely keeping herself a distance away as the rest of the pack came running through the bushes with their newest prey for the day, growls mixed in with the barks of the youngest.

With one last glance, Tuktirey started her short journey upwards before giving a sharp whistle.

A screech replied her quickly, a shadow flying over her only for a few seconds before landing down on the large branch before her, leaves fluttering down the ground from its appearance hidden within.

“Hey there boy,” Tuk trailed a gentle hand down her Ikran’s neck, somewhat feeling a little melancholic today, tracing the midnight blue skin with yellow and green marks. “Mawey Atanzaw.”

The old ikran listened, calming down and nudging his head against her hands as she smiled, nuzzling him back. She wasn’t the only one seemingly restless today.

Atanzaw himself was aware of what day it was, having acted impatient from morning until now.

Oh, what a shock that day had been for everyone; Tuk’s iknimaya was a moment still prone to come up in discussion to this day, four years later.

She had followed the same rites of passage as all her family before, making it all the way up to the Hallelujah Mountains without much issues. And just when Tuk thought she had found her bond, Atanzaw had swooped down from the sky like the vicious beast that he was known for.

Chasing away her first prospective Ikran and snarling at her.

No one had seen the animal since your death nearly seven years ago, the ikran having taken to the skies and never seen again after your body was brought back to Metkayina village to be buried with the ancestors.

She had been frozen to the core, all reason of what she was doing vanishing, until the realization that the ikran wanted her to fight; prove her worth to become his newest rider.

An occurrence that had never happened before in the history of her clan.

Once a rider died, it was well known their mounts refused to take any other.

But there she had been, faced with the fiercely loyal best of her long passed oldest sister.

“You want to see her, don’t you?” Tuktirey whispered, gently tracing the lines of his face as Atanzaw scuffed. “How about a little flight, then we’ll go.”

Swinging herself up on the saddle, the ikran didn’t need any more direction to follow their usual flight route circling her home forest.

Leaning forward to rest her whole body upon the warm skin of her mount, Tuk took a deep breath; eyes closing and feeling the wind whip past her as they soared above the trees.

The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky in a beautiful picture of soft oranges, pinks and yellow, bathing her in a backdrop of warmth and comfort.

Ten years have passed since your death.

Tuk remembered that day more clearly than the others.

When her family had finally managed to pry her and Kiri away from the grasps of their enemies, her eight-year-old mind thinking everything was going to be alright from there out as they floated above the water on Payakan’s fin until she noticed the usual bright absence of her oldest sister.

Her questions had been answered in the worst possible way as she was led to the flat surface of rocks in the middle of the dark ocean, the flames of the sinking boat being the only light to illuminate them

But it had been bright enough for her eyes to take in the scarily still form of you. An image of cold serenity with a wet cloth covering your body from the neck down, eyes closed as if you were dreaming.

Tuk had thought you were.

Simply sleeping that is.

Sinking slowly down to her knees beside you, small hand shaking your shoulder to wake up, to hug her and assure her that everything was okay now. That their family was safe and they could go home. But you wouldn’t wake up.

“Why won’t sissy wake up, daddy!” Her child self had sobbed, hiccuping and whipping around to stare at her dad for an answer.

He had only scooped her up in his arms, tugging her head into his neck with comforting nothings, apologizing for something she couldn’t hear through her sobs of denial. Kiri had stared, seeing but unseeing, fists clenched by her side as their mother sank down and pulled your damp head into her lap.

The bright roots from the tree of souls brought her back to the present as Atanzaw swooped down slowly. The area was empty from what she could see, because Tuk had arrived late to her family’s tradition of visiting you on your death anniversary.

Instead of heading straight to the tree and connecting her queue, she found a slab of high rock several feet away and sat down. Her ikran settling down on his stomach beside her with a grumble as she absently traced his neck.

“Come on, Tuk Tuk! Atanzaw won’t wait for us forever!” Your voice seemingly whispered in her ears, your bright laughter following as the memories of her small self rushing out of the hut for your weekly sister bonding time.

“Tuk Tuk, mom and dad won’t be happy if you don’t clean up before dinner!” What an ongoing issue it had for you to force her to simply clean up after a day of adventures outside.

“Why are you crying, Tuk Tuk?”

“I-I had a n-nightmare of you leaving m-me…”

“Awe, my sweet little Tuk. I’ll never leave you, okay?”

“Y-you promise, sissy?” You had grinned so widely that it seemed like you could shield the entire world from her. “When have I ever broken a promise?”

Tuktirey couldn’t help but scoff, the sound feeling loud in the emptiness of the space as she plucked out handful of grass and letting them flutter to the ground.

“You’re a goddamn liar, sissy,” She couldn’t help but mutter bitterly.

“Careful now. She won’t be too happy hearing you say that.”

Looking over her shoulder to face the familiar deep voice of Neteyam, grinning almost innocently.

Tuk rolled her eyes, never stopping her aggressive little plucking of nature. She would apologize to Eywa another time.

“What are you doing here, Teyam?”

Her oldest brother heaved a sigh as he sat down on her other side, his ridiculously broad shoulders brushing her own. Just like everyone else, he had grown into himself as a strong male Na’vi. She knew that if their father decided to step down today as Olo'eyktan, Neteyam would be more than ready to take his place.

But alas, Jake Sully was still a stubborn male who assured he was more than capable for a couple more years before letting the role of leader go to someone else. A stubborn old fool, their mother had berated him to their amusement.

“I assumed since you didn’t show up earlier, I would find you here sooner or later.”

Her brother, now twenty-five was one of the respectable leaders of their clan, as a general and heir to their father. Neteyam even surpassed Jake in build and height, all the teenage softness melting into a strong wide jaw and high cheekbones.

“You didn’t have to wait,” Tuk muttered again as he chuckled.

“And let you remain here alone ruining that poor grass?” Her hand stopped at his pointed words with an inward sigh.

Pulling her knees against her chest, she wrapped her arms around them, never taking her eyes away from the gently swaying branches of the Tree of Souls.

“What’s the issue, Tuk?”

“What makes you think there is one?”

She didn’t have to look to know about the brow Neteyam raised at her. “You’ve been acting odd the last couple of days. Even mother and father have noticed.”

Tuk gnawed at her bottom lip. “I don’t know how to say it.”

“Since when have I ever judged you?”

That was true. Neteyam was always willing to offer an ear for her problems, often ending the conversation with a comforting hug to brighten up her days.

“I…think I’m forgetting her.” Tuk’s whispered admission floated into the air with a shuddering breath, eyes welling up with tears she let trail down her cheeks.

A guilt that had bothered her ever since she realized with horror how she couldn’t seem to recall how your smile had looked like, if the colors of your eyes had been as yellow as she remembered, or a more dark orange.

“Oh Tuk…” She didn’t fight the hold Neteyam slung over her shoulder, pulling her into his side, lips pressing against the crown of her head. “Why are you beating yourself up over that?”

“I can’t forget her, Teyam,” Tuk’s voice shook. “She’s…sissy. What kind of sister would I be if I can’t remember what her smile looked like? How her laugh sounded. It’s not right.”

“Who told you that?” Neteyam’s voice was a low comfort. “It’s the truth isn’t it?”

“No, not even close, Tuk Tuk.”

Tuktirey shook her head. “Don’t do that. I don’t want your lies, Teyam.”

“Do you believe Y/N would call you a liar?” His question made her pause because she didn’t know.

She didn’t remember what you would have said in moments like these, and it was that exact feeling that was eating her up from the inside.

“You were eight, Tuk,” Neteyam continued seriously. “A child in the midst of war and mayhem. We all were. Trauma has haunted us all since then, you as a child couldn’t even escape it. Your memories warp over time, and no one would blame you for forgetting details of scenarios over a decade ago.”

“But it’s sissy!” She repeated vehemently.

“Sissy would tell you to suck it up and stop being a wimp.”

Words that your oldest brother would never use on a daily basis made them both freeze, before sharing an airy laugh together at how you would 100% say that to their faces.

“Yeah, she would…”

How Tuk hated the truth of those words. You would have told them much more than that with narrowed eyes and hands on your hips. Probably including a couple of cuss words followed by your signature whack to the head.

“A day does not go by where we don’t miss her,” Neteyam’s voice had taken a note melancholy, Atanzaw in his silence seemingly agreeing with a rumble from his chest.

“Y/N will always leave a mark within our lives long after we’re gone as well. Just look at Lo’ak. That fool has managed pretty well for himself.”

Giggling at their inside joke, Tuk could see what he meant.

After the war ended, everyone besides their second brother decided to return to the forest. Lo’ak had been firm in his decision of remaining with the Metkayina, Tsireya by his side as mates and to lead the future generations to come. They were doing incredibly well last time the family had heard, welcoming a healthy baby girl as their first child and naming her after you. They had promised to come for a visit the moment the babe was old enough for long travels.

None of the family had expected Lo’ak to be the first one to create a family and life for himself, but he had put all the credit on you. How he promised to be strong for your sake; A promise he had now fulfilled to its brim to the pride of everyone else, your parents especially. Kiri herself had taken over the role of Tsahìk, with their grandmother only growing more weary by the day, and there was no one else suited better to the role than her.

That left only Tuk, with her eighteenth birthday having passed, she was officially an adult in human terms. She had chosen to become a part of the hunters, often led by Neteyam as well.

She took after you a lot in that sense, her sense of adventure and adrenalin.

“You think sissy would be proud?” Tuk asked carefully.

Neteyam nudged her enough to catch her eyes as she followed his gaze to the tree, his small smirk obvious. “Why don’t you go and find out?”

“W-what?”

“I think of all days, that today is when Eywa might feel a bit more giving than usual.”

Despite her confusion over his mysterious words, Tuk listened and stood up. Walking the distance towards the closest root, she expected the same familiar connection to Eywa and hearing the whispers of the past brush over her mind as well the warmth spreading through her body. However her heart hammered when she felt her mind being pulled in further, as if dragging her away from the ground itself.

Where was she?

Slowly looking around, Tuk could vaguely recognize it. It was still home, in the forests on one of the many wide branches belonging to their trees. But it was taller than most she remembered, somewhere further away from their village.

“Should I be offended that you look confused?”

Gasping, Tuktirey whirled around quicker than she had ever moved. Her hand covered her mouth, blinking as if in a dream as you grinned at her.

Looking just like you had back then. Burnt orange like the sunrise, that was your eye color.

“...sissy?” She was too afraid this wasn’t real. Because it didn’t feel like it.

Your grin widened, beaming almost - arms opening wide. “Hey Tuk Tuk.”

Tuktirey propelled into you mid sob, somehow still feeling smaller than you despite her couple inches on you. The familiar warmth of your grasp around her body brought her back to her childhood almost frighteningly fast, making her think how she managed to ever forget that feeling.

“How tall you’ve become,” You murmured gently, hands trailing down her long braids, kept neatly within a leather tie.

“I-I can’t believe this. How-”

“Eywa has granted us the gift of seeing each other again. A rare occurrence.”

Although not wanting to part from your arms, Tuktirey forced herself to pull back slightly.

Only to be startled by the fact she had to look down to meet your sparkling gaze. You had always seemed like a larger-than-life figure to her. Towering above like an impregnable shield, it was now she realized how you had only been sixteen. How young your features looked now compared to her own eighteen.

Had you always been that slight?

“I don’t know what to say.”

You chuckled, reaching up to brush a singular braid back and tuck it behind her ear. “Do you have something to say?”

“I-I thought I did,” Tuk admitted, grasping your smaller hands tightly as you watched her patiently. “But now I’m not so sure.”

“Well, then how about I start?” Meeting your eyes, she watched them crinkle. “I missed you, Tuk Tuk.”

Eywa knows how she managed to smile, a light laugh following despite her tears. “I miss you so much, sissy.”

“You are stunning. I always knew you would be.”

“How could you?” The words slipped out before she could stop. “You’re not here.”

But you simply snorted, obviously disagreeing. “I’m always there, Tuk. Even if you can’t see me, or feel me. Or even want to remember me. I’ll always be there.”

“Then why did you leave?” Tuktirey couldn’t help the choked question, knowing better than to expect an answer to it.

You had been shot. Not chosen to die. But you defied all expectations as always, answering with a smirk.

“Shit happens.”

Their dad would have been proud to hear that.

“You are so much like Dad,” She huffed out almost exasperated.

“And don’t you let him forget,” You winked.

A cribble crawled over her skin, the leaves of the trees rustling almost in warning as your face tilted up towards the sky, smile faltering the slightest.

“We don’t have much time.”

“No,” Tuk shook her head, gripping your hands tighter, probably near painful but you gave no indication of it. “I want to speak with you more. Apologize or something, I can’t forget you!”

To her surprise, you laughed. Loud and coming from your belly. “Forget me? Oh Tuk Tuk, you worry too much.”

“What?”

“You fear the natural sides of life. Apologize? For what? How do you expect to forget your favorite sibling?” Your joke did not dry the fresh tears gathered in her eyes, before your eyes softened.

Hand coming back up to cup her cheek, thumb gently brushing against it. “You are allowed to forget my face. Even my voice. I would never hold it over you, Tuktirey. But this,” You patted her heart. “That will never be gone. You’ll always find me there, okay?”

Lips wobbling, Tuk sniffled almost pathetically as she nodded. “Okay.”

Her blurry vision took in your face carefully, for what felt like the very last time for a long while.

Looking at your shining eyes, loving wide grin with the same hint of mischief you always carried around.

The wind rose as you reached up to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, hands squeezing hers one last time before stepping back and letting go.

“I love you, sissy.” Tuk managed to croak out as the surroundings were starting to brighten. She swore it was a tear running down your cheek as your grin widened enough to show your teeth.

“I love you too, Tuk Tuk.” And then a classic you-move; offering her a two-finger salute with a wink. “Make me proud, tiger.”

With a sharp gasp, Tuktirey was back; eyes flying open and stumbling back only to be balanced swiftly by Neteyam.

But he didn’t look concerned. There was a knowing glint in his expectant smile as she stared at him silently, almost stunned.

That smile widened at the look on her face. “So what did she say?”

As reality caught up with her, Tuk straightened before huffing out a laugh, wiping away the stray tears on her cheek.

With twinkling eyes, she ran her tongue against the inside of her mouth in thought before blurting out.

“That you’ll always be a sniveling crybaby!”

Cackling, she ran away with a squeal towards Atanzaw as Neteyam growled playfully behind her, bringing up the chase as she took to the skies; heart and soul lighter than she could ever wish for.

Am I crying? Maybe.

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#avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar angst #dad jake sully #jake sully imagine #sully family #sully family x reader #jake sully x reader #sully reader #tuktirey #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #loak x reader #loak imagine #neytiri x you #neytiri x daughter!reader #mom neytiri

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echantedtoon · 10 months

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Monster Bride Part 6 Kokushibo

Warnings: Kokushibo is in pretty rough shape with bad wounds and some blood loss, mentioned blood, Kokushibo murders a rival later, mentioned killing/attempted murder, Y/n gets kidnapped for a forced marriage, Y/n gets cut when someone tries to attack Kokushibo, Kokushibo breaks someone's hand, etc.

Just a reminder Kokushibo is a Omukade Yokai centaur creature and looks a lot like the links below.

www.tumblr.com/rottencoreflesh101/724273568035274752/some-monster-au-doodles-i-did-at-work-im-also?source=share

www.tumblr.com/rottencoreflesh101/724423204823826432/work-doodles-more-of-my-monster-au-i-think-i?source=share

Hantengu Bros are next.)

Quietly you stepped closer as and closer and CLOSER to the bush silently. Slowly behind the henhouse you went and stopped right in front of the bush. The wind blew swaying it's branches creepily and looked like thrashing arms. You grabbed a handful and silently and slowly pulled them back.

And you froze at what you saw-

The winds howled as the darkness crept across the skies. The darkness behind the bush shielded your form from the moonlight which cascaded down between the trees and clouds in the sky. The shadows danced and branches creaked as the wind blew them about. Like arms beckoning you closer to grab you away in their rough grip. Drag you into the shadows never to be seen again. You cracked an opening in the branches and looked out. The darkened sky looked out over the entire area. Tree branches swayed and night fell upon the ground. However you froze as your eyes met a sickening sight.

R E D.

The coldness of the air bit down hard on your skin, like painful bee stings pricking your skin. The terror far greater than seeing a thousand wolves sunk in. A hand flew to cover your mouth as a foul urge to vomit rose and a sickening copper smell filtered through the air.

RED!!

That was the color painted everywhere on the ground displayed before you. And there...lying face down slumped over was a man's body. A canvas for the color. Your eyes shrank in terror and your ears gained a ringing sound all on their own drowning out any noise.

A DEAD BODY.

In your backyard and lying right in front of your face. How-...Where did it come from?! Who was this!? Where did it come from?! You wretched yourself away from the bush in shock and leaned over slightly. The urge to vomit riding as you did everything you could to keep it down. The bush branches snapping back into place hiding the sight from you. Automatically you gave a few coughs and gulped down air in an attempt to calm yourself head spinning. There was a dead man on your property! Oh gods! What if someone thought you were responsible for this!? You could be tried for murders-

Wait...

How did you know he was actually dead?

That one thought made you freeze in your tracks instantly. That's right...How did you know for certain that he was dead? You just merely saw him covered in blood with a gash on his back. Your head turned back to the bush. He...he could've been hurt and tried reaching your house for help. What if he was laying there suffering?! That thought perked you back up into going back to the bush and cautiously reaching out to slightly pull the branches again. The body was still there unmoving. It...sure LOOKED dead but you couldn't tell in the dark. If he was still alive..you had to help him. You couldn't just leave someone to bleed out. The unmoving form still remained unmoving even as you noisily pushed through the bush and stood right next to the head....It was definitely a man. You could tell by how Large the body was and how muscular the exposed skin was. In the limited moonlight you were able to make out long hair and bangs that mostly covered his face and he laid in a position that suggested that he'd collapsed by himself. But the question still remained...Was he still alive?

You hesitated again ...but slowly you reached over to the face laying on its side and touched the long bangs covering his eyes. It was .. surprisingly soft and silky to the touch and you slowly pulled it away from the face to examine it. The right side of a man's face greeted you. You nearly jumped back at what you saw. His right eye was closed obviously either unconscious or dead, and read streaks ran down his face in water dripping patterns from a cut on his forehead. However...that wasn't the strangest bit. There was an odd flame looking birthmark on his neck and part of his right cheek. Odd. You'd never seen a birthmark like that before. However you didn't pay it much mind. Your hand instead went to almost touch his lips and flinched back feeling a weak warm breath blow across your fingertips. You reeled back in shock, hand to your chest, and jumping

HE WAS ALIVE!!

Hands grabbed his right shoulder and HEAVED. Barely moving an inch, but slowly the body turned, and with a thud whoever he was collapsed onto his back. A shocked gasp escaped from your throat upon purple eyes seeing his front body. Oh gods...So much blood. His body was practically DRENCHED in the red color! And you found out why. Mr. Unknown had the front of his shirt ripped to pieces to where it was barely hanging on over his shoulders. A large gash across his front from his left shoulder and ending just above his right hip was exposed to you. Definitely bigger than the gash along his back. And there was a third smaller gash along his right collar bone ending near his bicep. There was so much blood..How was he even still alive!? You also saw he had more of those flame like birthmarks on the upper left corner of his face. How odd. You reached out to touch it- But froze as a strong hand snatched you hand.

A pair of eyes opened up and gazed up at the blurry figure above him. Not making any sense of the blurry, spinning vision. Until the eyes rolled up into the back of his head and the last thing he saw was a glimpse of purple.

**************************************************

Warm.

Everything was warm once feeling returned to his body. Which was odd. He was lying on the cold hard ground last he remembered. Logic was of course the first thing to return to him. His thinking was always faster than his reflexes. Then the feeling of his body settled in. Warmth...but incredible aching, throbbing soreness. It throbbed and panged his body. Hmm..So he wasn't dead after all. It was too painful to be heaven and not painful enough to be hell, and too annoying to be purgatory. So he was Still alive but had passed out for a short while. An acceptable fate. Now...where was he?

Eyes slowly opened themselves up to the world blinking rapidly at the light and his vision blurred until he could see...A one roomed house? It was mostly empty. A coffee table square in the middle, a picture frame or two holding a painting of someone on the walls, a basket in the corner, a shelf full of dishes and other small items, a fireplace with a fire currently going, and a few other bland things. Nothing that really stood out as anything important to him. But who lived here? Why was he inside? How did he get here? And who touched him?

His question was answered when the door opened and the figure of a woman in a blue kimono walked in. The smell of wood drew his attention to the logs she was carrying. Silently he watched as she slid the sliding door back closed with a foot before continuing on to the fireplace and proceeding to feed the fire the wood. He laid there silently staring at her legs as she worked, feeling too weak to look up just yet and not wanting to give himself away just yet. The sounds of a metal poker scraping against the fire appeared for a little while before it too went away and the legs turned to face him. They didn't move again for a long moment before he felt a hand touch his blanketed shoulder- Faster than either expected his left hand shot up to tightly grip a much smaller wrist and squeezed down just enough to get the other body to freeze.

"Who are you and where am I?"

His eyes turned upwards slowly tilting his head...and he gave pause at the shocked face staring at him. The soft features looking as if sculpted by an angel. Soft, warm, and very beautiful. Definitely a woman. You stared at him in shock at how fast the man moved despite the fact that he was still extremely hurt and had blood loss. Whoever he was, he was extremely trained if he could react this fast. You jumped as he lightly squeezed your wrist. It didn't hurt, not at all, but you couldn't move. This man was obviously serious. So taking a breath..you exhaled slowly to calm yourself.

"Calm yourself," you spoke holding up your free hand despite his face already being an odd calm, "Relax back. You might reopen your wounds-"

"Answer me."

"My name is Y/n. Y/n Tamayo. This is my home. I found you unconscious outside last night and brought you in here."

You heard him him eyes looking you up and down.. before he slowly let go of your wrist and lowered his arm back down but paused when he saw the white wrapped around his palm and held his hand out to look at the bandages wrapped around it. Before his eyes slowly looked down at his now uncovered torso and saw even more bandages snuggly wrapped around his entire upper body, over his right shoulder, and part of his upper right arm. A hand reached up to feel his head and again found more bandages wrapped around his forehead. The throbbing soreness he's been feeling eminated from most of the bandaged spots. And a deep inhale made him aware of some kind of ointment or herbal treatment under them.

"...You have treated my wounds."

You nodded finally smiling at him. "I did. My mother's a doctor so I know a few medical treatments."

"My sword. Where is it?"

"It's by the table. You were passed out so I didn't know what to do with it otherwise." He looked back to you. "Your shirt was also ruined but I managed to save your other clothes. They're washed and drying outside so you should be able to get them back soon."

"I see ..Again he looked back to his body. "What of the state of my injuries?"

"You have a few large gashes across your back, chest, and shoulder here," you gestured to his torso. "But they're not deep at all and should heal rather quickly. You have a few cuts also but they're even smaller and should heal faster." You then frowned. "However I am worried about how much blood you managed to lose. There was so much. I honestly thought you were dead when I first saw you."

"I'll live," he said simply before sighing through his nose. "Is there anyone else that lives here?"

You shook your head. "No. Just me-"

"Where does that door there lead?" He pointed out the Smaller sliding door near the shelf.

"Oh. That leads into my bathroom." You blinked before looking at him. "My house isn't that-"

You blinked at the man who was sitting up. ...The man was .. sitting up. The man was sitting up despite his blood loss- He sighed through his nose before pulling the blanket to drap around his shoulders and slowly struggled to stand up. Your jaw dropped in disbelief as he was able to stand up and turned keeping the blanket draped over himself. Eventually you shook you head and snapped after him.

"Hey! W-Wait a minute!" He stopped when you grabbed the blanket around him and tugged back. "Where do you think you're going?!"

"To bathe." He turned his head back to you. "Please bring me my clothes." He then tugged the blanket out of your hands and continued on his way. Grabbing a towel from the shelf and entering your bathroom.

You stood there stunned for a very long time opening and closing your mouth like a fish before you looked at the empty futon and then back to the door as the faint sounds of running water started up. ....HOW WAS HE ABLE TO STAND AND WALK RIGHT NOW?! HE SHOUDN'T EVEN BE ABLE TO SIT UP!! But there he was. You were absolutely stunned to say the least, but did as he asked and got the clothes you cleaned from the line. You ended up just quickly shoving them inside closing your eyes and slamming the door back shut to give him respect of privacy. He still took his sweet time however and the next time he opened the door he was fully clothed minus a shirt. Steam escaped from the room behind him as he approached your sitting form at the table but he didn't even acknowledge you. Just reaching out to grab the sword off the table. He stood there examining the sheath of the blade with a calm face... before he paused. His eyes went wide as his arm flew to clutch his stomach as a wave of pain and dizzing nausea came over him. He stumbled two steps to the right before something grabbed onto him barely able to lift him up.

"I TOLD you! You're body's too weak to stand yet. C'mon. Come lay back down." You some how managed to hold up his heavy body just enough to make it back to the futon and help him sit down but he refused to lay down no matter how hard you pushed him to lay back so you gave up and just looked at him breathing heavily. "There. Now don't try that again. You need to recover."

His hair was down now completely cascading down his back and slightly wet covering most of his back but he still turned to you peeking through his hair. "It seems...so. I must take some time to recover."

"I also need you to remove your coat." He raised a brow at you. "To replace the bandages you removed. It'd be better if I treated them properly."

He remained silent but placed the sword on his lap and reached up to silently remove his black and purple checkered coat. You blinked but quickly looked away with red rising to your cheeks. Right! You'd better get those bandages. You were surprised at how silent and calm he was. Not once did he flinch or make a hurt face when you retreated his injuries. Only silently raising his arms and moving his hair when you wrapped new clean bandages around his torso red faced. He was...very physically fit. When you were finished he just silently pulled the coat back over his shoulders.

"You should be fine now but you should rest." He hummed in response. ".... What's your name?"

"Why do you need to know?"

You rose a brow. "Well considering I found a stranger bleeding near my home and treated him without asking for payment in return I think a name would be the least you could give me."

"I owe nothing."

"Maybe not but it would be polite. I can't keep calling you Mr. Stranger."

There was silence again before he said one word. "Kokushibo."

You blinked before smiling. "Well it's nice to meet you, Mr. Kokushibo. Would you tell me what you were doing outside my home?''

He hummed again cracking an eye open at you. "Nosey aren't you?"

"Concerned is more like it. You'd be too if you found a bloodied man outside your home." You then glanced at the sword on his lap. It was a long katana most likely. "...Are you a samurai?"

A large hand clasped around the sword in an instant. ".... I am a warrior." He settled on saying carefully after studying your face for a long moment. "I was engaged in battle before coming here."

Your brow rose. "Combat in the middle of the woods?"

"I prefer traveling without trouble following. The forest provides a peaceful cover. However I miscalculated an ambush. I will not make the same mistake."

Who attacked him? Other samurai? You've seen these men a few times while in town but never spoke to one until now. "....But do I have to worry about trouble coming here?"

"...No. I have already assured that I wouldn't be dealing with them again."

You decided not to delve further into that. Wasn't your business anyways. At least you didn't have to worry about trouble showing up on your doorstep. You slowly closed the box containing your medical kit. "I'll have to buy some more supplies in town. ...Are you hungry? A full stomach would help you feel better."

He hummed again. " You're cooking beef stew in the fireplace." He nodded. "I will take it."

"And water." He again looked at you. "You lost a lot of blood. You need fluids and get rehydrated fast or else something bad might happen." You stood up and turned away from him. "I'd rather not have my guest collapsing on me again." Walking over to the shelf, you placed the box back. "You can stay here until you recover, but I think it might be a good idea if I had my mother come look at you-"

"NO." You turned around blinking at him as he narrowed his eyes at you. "I won't have anyone else seeing me or knowing I am here. I will stay until I am well enough to walk within a week but until then no one else will know I'm here."

The intensity of the state he was giving you reminded you of a wolf staring at a rabbit. ..And you suddenly had a thought that perhaps you had better stay out of whatever business this man had. So you nodded and he relaxed back but still stared at you. Watching as you set about getting him a plate stuffed full of rice and beef and whatever else you decided to give him.

"Thank you." He said plainly before just grabbing a pair of chopsticks to start eating.

"I hope you don't mind such a meager meal. I don't have exactly have access to top meat."

"This will be enough for now but I will need more later to fuel my body's regeneration rate." He said before just silently putting a chunk of the food in his mouth... before pausing before just looking at the food.

You noticed that and tilted your head. "Is something wrong? It's too hot isn't it?"

He was slow to respond. "No... It's quite good. I rarely have home cooked foods." Mostly he feasted on prey he caught these last few decades and home cooked meals like this were rare these days.

You smiled at him. "Thank you. If you're still hungry later then you're welcome to take more of if you can't move just ask me and I'll get you more." A jug full of water and a cup was placed next to him. "Here's some water. Drink some. I'm going to clean up the mess you made of my bathroom. Next time don't leave your old bandages next to the tub."

"My apologies."

He did not say anything else as you left to clean up the bathroom and dispose of the old slightly bloodied bandages he had wrapped around himself. Collecting the dishes he set aside once he was finished with it. He stayed like that for the rest of the day, just silently sitting there and looking like he was in deep meditation. You didn't disturb him still feeling strange from the intense look he gave you earlier. However you did comply with him when he asked for more food before retiring to the futon you set up. Not wanting to disturb him, you just pulled out a spare set of blankets from the shelf and curled up near the front door just in case you needed to jump out for whatever reason. However you woke up the next morning in surprise to find the man sound asleep still.

Seeing as you still had a quiet morning to yourself, you quietly made your way out to start your chores which wasn't too long a job but you thought that the man would've been awake now. You were surprised to see that he wasn't. Instead he remained there in the same position you saw him in when you first got up. Long hair splayed all around him. But what caught your attention towards him was the twitching of his eyelids. He looked incredibly bothered by something. So when a hand touched his forehead, his eyes snapped open immediately to look at you.

"You're running a fever...It doesn't feel too high thankfully. I have some fever medicine in my kit. I'll give you some and you should feel fine later."

He merely hummed before closing his eyes back shut. "Do what you must."

You smiled and made to move..but paused. Removing your hand you stared at his bare forehead in confusion. ".... That's strange. Didn't you have a cut on your forehead?"

"You're mistaken." He didn't bother opening his eyes.

You stared at him before opening your mouth. That's not true. You DID treat a cut on his forehead but again you decided not to bother fighting him and again treat him with a herbal tea infused with the medicine. He opened his eyes and would've sat up to take the drink from you, but blinked as all of a sudden a hand pushed itself under his head and lifted him with extreme gentleness he'd never felt before. As if he was cracked glass and at any moment could shatter. Something warm and herbal smelling wafted over his lips as you cradled his head and held the cup to his lips.

"Here. Drink."

The eyes stared up at yours and how soft your features were... before they glanced at the cup, and slowly opened his mouth. It was enough for you to tilt the cup for him to drink taking great care to not spill any on him. Making sure to also give him breaks between gulps to allow him to breath until it was empty. He'll also need something solid in his stomach. Good thing you still had leftovers from dinner last night. He didn't make any moves to stop you from cradling his head and feeding him until he seemed to be full enough and you gently encouraged him to sit back up. You needed to treat his wounds again. He seemed to struggle to sit up by himself so you had to push him up into a sitting position before you could again treat him. He just remained silent and compliant throughout the entire process until he was laying back down and a cool wet towel was being pressed against his forehead.

"There you go. You should feel better soon. Is there anything else you want?"

"No. This should suffice."

You smiled at him again. "Well you should be well for now. I'll come back later and get you some more water after I finish cleaning the house. For now rest."

He looked at you closely. "You're doing your duties even while caring for someone else fully?"

"Well ..Yes. You're my guest, and I should be a good host but I shouldn't neglect my chores either."

"Hm. The markings of a devoted housewife." He nodded. "Your husband must be very pleased with a woman like you."

You paused blinking.. before slowly looking at him with a look. "I'm not married." His eyes looked back to you. "I'm not engaged either. I clean my home and provide for my own person."

His brow rose higher than before. "A woman living alone and running a farm by herself?" The eyes scanned you up and down. That was unheard of. "With how young and beautiful you are? A woman by your age is usually married or engaged to be married soon. It's unheard of to hear that you're not."

You paused. Before your face lit up a light pink at his words but despite that you shook your head with a frown. "No. I like living by myself and providing for just me. It's simpler and more peaceful."

"You do not want to be married? Or starting a family?"

You gave a thoughtful look. "Well..I think it would be nice to settle down eventually, but it shouldn't be forced. Marriage is supposed to be about love for one another, not just what I look like."

"You haven't gotten any suitors?"

You shook your head picking up a bucket. "No. I have but most of the ones I've gotten have always been pushy or only wanted to marry me because they thought I was pretty or for some other selfish reason. Living a bit far from town helps but sometimes someone still has the audacity to come down here and try their luck. Some more pushy than others. A lot of the time they don't like hearing no."

Kokushibo silently seemed to be giving a thoughtful, considerate look to what you had to say. "I see."

He said nothing else as his eyes closed once again and you left to fetch a pail of water from your well. If he wanted to rest then you wouldn't disturb him. Only rolling up your sleeves/bottom of your kimono before starting to scrub the floors. He remained still as you worked even as you moved furniture and pushed him and the futon over at one point to clean under him. He merely perked an eye open, before immediately closing it again unbothered by anything. Made no difference to you. You just continued to go about your business dusting, sweeping, mopping, etc. You again changed the towel on his forehead and fed him more later in the day but it wasn't anything special. However come the third morning he was there you started to think maybe this man wasn't human. You had woken up as usual and gotten up but froze when you found the back door open and he was just sitting there already helping himself to what must've been the last of the large pot of stew and rice you made. How the heck was he able to eat so much? He noticed you before you could even say something.

"Apologies for devouring your food. If I wish to regenerate fully faster, I need more sustenance to sustain the energy my body uses to generate the healing process. But rest assured this only means I won't be a bother for you sooner."

You blinked looking at where he had been resting the day before then at him opening your mouth.. before just closing it. "It's..not a problem. You must be really hungry. I'll cook you a few eggs."

He only tilted his head slightly as you silently went over to make his bed, without complaining about it to him, before exciting the home to begin your chores. A woman who didn't complain about things he did and just offered him more food without a second thought. The markings of a good woman who'd take good care of her husband and the home when he was away. However she seemed very stubborn minded about remaining single. She'd most likely die alone. He'd just finished the food you'd given him and you took his plate away with a smile when a knocking noise from the front door caught your attention. Kokushibo merely cracked an eye open from his meditative state. Neither of you moved and then the knocking came back again but louder.

"Who could that be?," you mumbled putting the plates to the side.

"A man." From the presence he sensed and by the smell, it was a male around the same age as you and from the smell of animals, he was either a hunter or was wearing some kind of animal pelts.

You hesitated looking at him both wondering how he knew that and a bit concerned. He said he didn't want anyone to know that he was here, but he didn't make any moves to hide or move out of sight...You supposed it would just be ok to answer the door, you just had to make sure to not accidentally show Kokushibo was there. So with a sigh you steeled yourself with a smile and walked on over to the front door, just sliding it open enough to peek your head out... before you blinked and your face frowned.

"What are you doing here?" Kokushibo's head perked up at the heavy distaste in your tone.

"I came to see the love of my life.~ Isn't it obvious?~ I missed you so much.~", came a gruff but young male's voice he'd never heard before.

Behind the door you placed a hand on your hip. "You're not allowed back in town. You were banned after you almost killed that elder a year ago."

"It was an honest mistake-"

"You got drunk and picked a fight with that poor old man for no reason! On top of that you dishonored your family and that was on top of the pile of horrible things you've done!"

"You don't live in town. This is a decent ways from that place, so I'm not breaking any laws." Kokushibo's head turned to the side and rose a brow seeing a hand caress the side of your head through the doorway. "I missed you.~"

SLAP!

The hand was harshly slapped away from your face. "GET OFF MY PROPERTY!!" You bellowed out at him in a tone that surprised Kokushibo could come from such a soft lady. ''I don't know who you think you are but you're not welcome here! You're NEVER welcome here! You disgust me to no end! Now get off my property! I don't want to see you again!"

There was an instant reaction to your words. One of which being that you were shoved back harshly. Enough to send you stumbling back and falling to the floor as the sliding door slammed open and someone stepped inside. The someone was a man about her age maybe a year or two older with a few scars and clothing made from animal skins. Ah. That explained the smell of animals. He walked in initially with a smirk on his face but paused upon seeing the face of another man staring back at him calmly and silently. You shook your head scooting back from the new man entering your home and glared at him. The two men silently stared at one another before finally the first one sneered in anger and pointed at Kokushibo.

"Who the hell are you?!", he demanded.

"Who I am is not important for you to know," he responded back calmly only making the newcomer angrier.

"What?! Did you get married or something while I was gone?!" He snapped to you in question.

"So what if I did?!"

"SO YOU GOT MARRIED!?"

"Again that's none of your business! I don't owe you any explanation on what goes on in my life! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!"

The man didn't. Instead he snarled at Kokushibo who took his sweet time standing up and turning to face him. His calm expression beyond repair making him even more so.

"I believe she had asked you to leave this house," he spoke more calmly half lidded eyes staring at him. You looked up at him. Holy crap...he was a lot taller than he looked.

"Tch. And what right do you have to it?," he asked silently sizing the samurai up.

"None. I am nothing but a mere guest to this household however you are not. Now you had best be on your way. I would find it improper for you to stay any longer."

Perhaps it was the previous blood loss that had dulled his senses or the fact he didn't take this man as a threat (and to be perfectly honest he wasn't a threat at all) but when a hand shot out he stiffened awaiting the blow- However it-...Never came?

The smell of blood filled his nose after a body flew up and something metallic and shiny slashed across your face. A cut formed on your cheek. Pain exploded as you yelled out stumbling back until you collided with a body. Kokushibo blinked as you fell against him easily catching you in one strong arm as you gritted your teeth and clutched your cheek as a cut bled out on. Kokushibo slowly blinked as you felt tests start to stream down your face. Kokushibo slowly let his eyes grow wide before looking at the man who also seemed surprised as he held up a dagger.

"Leave him alone!," you bellowed out at the other man, "He's hurt enough! Just leave us alone! GET OUT! GET OUT!! GET OUT!!"

Well..that escalated rather quickly. He stared at the woman starting to cry in his arms then back to the man holding the knife. Her body was slowly slid until she was gently placed on the floor. Purple eyes blinked as he easily stepped over and placed himself between her and the other man.

"You have been told to leave. If you don't wish bodily harm upon you, you'll honor the request."

The other man stared at him before daring to growl. "Who's gonna make me? You?"

"Obviously. Normally I wouldn't care of what business or purpose you have with her, but you attacked my hostess. I can't simply let that slide."

"I'm not going to let a woman order me around like a weakling. And I'm sure as hell not going to let you get between me and my business!"

An arm was raised up high and the dagger was raised only to be swiped down- And grabbed by a large fist faster than either could comprehend. Shocked eyes stared into the calm face framed by burgundy hair.

CRACK-

Your body curled up on itself as a man's shriek echoed throughout the home. Pain wailing through his hand and up his arm shooting off like fireworks. The knife fell to the ground with a clatter by their feet as Kokushibo effortlessly and calmly crushed the man's hand. It was all a quick blur. His hand swiping from the hand to his neck, grabbing him by the throat and lifting up. You watched shocked as Kokushibo was able to effortlessly lift up the dangling man like he was nothing and walk him to the open front door struggling and wheezing for air grabbing at the calloused hand clamped around his throat. Until the samurai stopped just in the doorway.

"A man's place is to protect and provide for the woman he devotes his life to. Your proclamations of love are as empty as your threats. You are neither a man nor a worthy lover. It's only because I'm being courteous to my hostess that you live. She just cleaned last night and I'd hate to make a mess and ruin all her hard work. But make no mistakes. Should our paths cross again for whatever reason..." The calm eyes narrowed as the grip increased. "I will be the last thing you see before death claims you."

The man's body dropped like a ragdoll with a thud and a large gasp left his mouth followed by a current of coughs as sweet oxygen filled his lungs. He simply watched him wriggle and struggle like the pathetic worm he was before he was able to scowl and struggle himself away. He stood there until he was no longer in sight and then some before closing the door in front of him. Silence resumed for a long moment.

"...That was incredibly stupid of you." You blinked as he turned to look at you. "I didn't ask you to defend me and if you do it again I'll be sure it's the last time you do."

You ...just blinked. Staring at him as tears continued to roll down your cheeks before you scowled. "I-"

"Should be the one protected," he stated bluntly, "It's a man's job to protect the women not the other way around. You've already done me a great deed by feeding me, giving me shelter, and treating my wounds without a thing in return. I owe your safety at least in return." You said nothing as he walked on over to the shelf and grabbed the box you kept your medical supplies in. "Now treat the wound. It will be better if you did."

You wiped at your face before nodding. "F-Fine. But remove your coat so I can care for your wounds in return.''

"There is no need. They will be fully healed by tomorrow anyways."

That wasn't true. The gashes on him weren't deep but they'd take a long time to heal fully. "Even still, it'd be better to treat the wounds until they heal fully and I said I'd take care of you until you healed fully."

He regarded you for a long moment. "A woman who insists on treating others before herself...You would be an ideal wife if the right man wished to court you." You deadpanned at him. "Nevertheless I agree but treat your cheek first."

You didn't argue against that or when he suddenly pressed a cloth to your face to wipe off the tears and blood from your cut. Your eyes just widened as a hand tilted your head up to look at him and he continued working...a redness spreading across your face much to his inner amusement.

"Who was that man?" His voice made you jump.

"W-What?"

"He seemed to know you. Was he a past lover?"

You scowled in his hold. "He wishes. No. Not even remotely."

He hummed. "He seems to think otherwise."

"His family owns a successful fur trading business in town. Because of that he's very spoiled. He thinks he can get away with anything but last year he was exiled from town because he almost killed a man after he got drunk."

"What is his business with you?"

"Nothing. His parents tried to convince mine to make an arranged marriage between us as children and I guess since I've told him no he can't seem to get over it. But I'm afraid he might make good on that loophole." He hummed wiping around your cut. "Technically I don't live in town. It's an hour away down the path. So if he comes back here then he wouldn't be breaking the law.''

"If he returns, he does." You blinked as he seriously spoke. "I warned him. If he so chooses to not listen to that warning then he'll face the consequences of his own actions. I never go back on my word."

You blinked at him before pulling away red faced. "Y-You didn't have to do that."

"I did what my role entails." The rustling of clothing had you look over and freeze as his purple and black checkered coat dropped to his feet and exposed his torso to you. "Now you may treat me like you wanted." Your eyes stared at his toned chest- "It's rude to stare."

Jumping you scrambled grabbing your medical kit as he just calmly raised an arm to allow you to quickly pull away the old bandages and trying (and failing-) to not stare at his torso and his scars-...Wait. The bandages fell away from his skin and you froze staring at his wounds. Except..they weren't wounds. They weren't even scars! They were just light markings that looked extremely faded to the point that they were barely present. You just...stared at them.

Wounds don't heal that fast.

Staring silently you slowly looked up at his eyes. "Is something the matter?"

You opened and closed your mouth but quickly shook your head no. "N-No! You're healing up quite nicely! You were right when you said you'd be better in a week!" You offered a smile. "After this I'll make you some more food and drink. Do you like tea?"

"That's fine....You mentioned that you had no lover?"

You shook your head busing yourself by just removing his old bandages trying not to think too much about the mysterious scars. He... probably just had a rare healing rate. Or the wounds weren't as serious as you thought at first

"No. Most men only wanted me for my looks or my parents money. My father paints and my mother is a good doctor. They make a good living but I'd rather make my own way."

"Would you ever accept a courtship?"

"Well...Yes. I might if the man wasn't interested in my looks or money. Like you for example. You don't seem to care much about those things. If someone as unmaterialistic as you proposed to me or if I asked I would hope he said yes.Uh...N-No offense."

"None taken." He raised his arm higher looking over you carefully before closing his eyes with a hum. "Like me?"

"Y-Yes. But that's rare to happen-"

"I accept."

You paused holding up a clean roll of bandages. "...What?"

"I accept your proposal." He looked back to you. "But I will court you properly first, Wife."

The roll of bandages dropped to the floor

*****************************************

Kokushibo did not leave when he stayed an entire week.

His proclamation of Courting you caught you so off guard that for the longest moment you were just...well dumbfounded. Acting on autopilot being too stunned to speak just finishing bandaging him and cleaning up the small mess Nori left behind. Kokushibo took the dagger Nori left, but you had no idea what he did with it. He only returned to what he had been doing before Nori showed up, which was meditate for the rest of the day until it was finally nighttime. Kokushibo insisted on you taking back your futon and you still bring in shock just laid down staring at the ceiling until you fell asleep. You awoke the next morning to once again finding Kokushibo silently meditating in the corner helping himself to what must've been a full jug of water. Yesterday's events shot through your mind and you shot up sitting up immediately.

"I see you're awake," he stared plainly, "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep in the entire morning. I'm quite hungry."

You snapped to him with a frown. "You said you were courting me yesterday!"

"Yes."

"YOU SAID YOU WERE COURTING ME YESTERDAY!," You shouted realization finally slapping you fully awake.

"Yes."

You pointed at him. "Why?!"

"You are a well woman and I have yet to be treated like this even before I met you." He drank some more. "And you asked me for my hand in marriage."

"No I didn't!"

"Didn't you?" His eyes opened slightly to look at you. "You wanted a husband like me and said if I were to ask you or you were to ask me you'd either accept or hoped that I would accept. And I have. However I intend to go about this properly. I'll court you for a while before out wedding."

Your jaw dropped as your eyes practically bugged out of your skull. "I-..."

Oh gods. You HAD asked him hadn't you!? You got yourself engaged to a stranger who had just showed up on your doorstep four days ago! Now he was looking at you expectantly waiting for you to cook for him again! This isn't what you imagined what your eventually engagement would be like! You didn't even know him! You had to break this off now!

"I-It wasn't my intention to!" You quickly said making him turn a brow, "I was only using yu as an example of what I'd like in a husband-"

"And here I am. That problem is solved."

"We don't even know each other that well!"

"That's what the courting process is for. We will know one another in time."

"I-I don't want to be engaged right now-"

"Then you shouldn't have asked me unintentionally or not. I have already accepted. I might change my mind later and break this arrangement but for now I am content with what I see."

"I don't like people who just want to court me for selfish reasons."

"None of my reasons for accepting your proposal were selfish. I accepted because I am content with how you have treated me with kindness and how you go about your daily life. I do not care about money or any property you have. Your beauty is a factor I like but it's not a main reason. Now if you're done giving me reasons to say no I'd like you to cook for me."

"B-B-But our lifestyles contradict each other!," you said in a last ditch effort to convince him otherwise. "I-Im not willing to move away from my parents home and I worked too hard on this farm to abandon it! You'll be traveling around far and wide -"

"And I'll have a home and wife to return to whenever I may need her. I have no interest in making you leave with me whenever I go. That would be inconvenient for us both. My work will be kept separated from home. Now will you be cooking me a meal?"

You deflated only looking at him before sighing and moving to get him the food he asked for. If he was still recovering from the blood loss then he shouldn't push himself until he was fully recovered. He mentioned it would take him a week to recover right? Today was the fourth day so he'll only be here for another three days at most. Maybe he'd forget about you once he left. But for now you'd keep your promise and care for him. It was the least you could do after he drove Nori away. Hopefully that would keep him away too...

Oh how wrong you were about that.

You ended up serving him more eggs and fruit from your back orchard. He didn't seem to mind however and thanked you before taking it. Leaving you to just go about your chores until retiring that night. The next two days were relatively the same. He'd meditate or watch as you went about your own chores or ask you to cook for him which you obliged. You also checked over his injuries only to find they had healed to the point that there wasn't even any scars left behind. You'd never seen anything like in on another man. Even your father had small scars from burning himself on a stove or cutting himself on a widdling tool. Perhaps he was born with fast metabolism that fueled his body's healing? Would be why he ate so much. You didn't bring it up. You did however try to convince him anyways you could to convince him to call off this engagement but he refused every turn. You were feeling relief on the seventh day. It'd be his last day here before he left apparently and you wouldn't stop him. However you weren't expecting him to ask you for a brush for his hair. Huh... come to think of it his hair had been worn down outside of the ponytail he had when you found it.

"I'll fix your hair for you if you'd like me to," you offered which caught him off guard as he blinked at you in light surprise, "I can style hair a little bit. My mother showed me how to, so I can put your hair back up if you want."

Kokushibo just slowly blinked again before closing his eyes with an exhale through his nose. "Do as you wish."

You smiled in return at him and went to fetch your brush. He didn't move but did lightly open his eyes when he heard you return and grab a strand of his long soft hair. It was soft to the touch and you took gently care in pulling apart the small knots you felt before even pulling the brush through. He found the treatment acceptable so allowed it to continue. There was silence for a long time as you worked until you spoke again.

"You have beautiful hair... You're a very handsome man."

You were surprised when a chuckle escaped from him and even offered you a small smile. "Being bold are we?"

"I-Im only being polite!"

"Don't be fooled. I'm happy my future wife has attraction for me." Your face went red again. "But any flirtations will have to wait longer. I'll be leaving tonight." You blinked at him. "I'll have to return to my Master and inform him on where I've been before he becomes displeased with my absence. I'll return within two weeks time before the eclipse is here."

Master? So he was a samurai for a warlord? Or some kind of noble perhaps? You didn't remember there being any near here. He was from far away wasn't he? However if he was going to be away for a while then you'd be able to have time to yourself again at least for a little while. So you only smiled and nodded.

"Are you strong enough to travel?"

"And defend myself. I owe you my thanks for my body's recovery."

"You did the healing yourself so there's no need to thank me. But I won't let you go on an empty stomach. I'll make you look presentable and cool you a large meal before you go. Can't have you hungry."

"What a doting wife I have."

"Don't push your luck."

That's how his last day with you ended. With you tying his hair back how you first found him and making sure he ate well. It was sundown when he stepped out your door and turned back to you. You handed him a small cloth bag with some fruit from your orchard for his travels and he bowed to you before surprising you when he caressed your lightly injured cheek.

"Don't forget me. I will return for you soon."

Your face lit up a red as he smiled before turning again and beginning to walk away. Not down the path to town though but through the woods. You watched as he left silently and just disappeared into the night.

*********************************************************************

The moon shined red as blood tonight as shadows moved.

Quiet night. Unholy night of beasts. Feasting their sights upon the stray women who dare stay out at night when the full moon rises, lighting the pathway for the beasts to claim their prey. Gnashing teeth, snarling fangs waiting to take a bite into innocent flesh where the terrible claws miss. Waiting to snatch you away down into their dark abyss never to return. He was none what so ever concerned about traveling alone tonight. He had better places to be and anyone who dared be foolish enough to tangle with him would never be heard from again. One look at him would deter most creatures away. But his business was not with them.

He was here for the woman.

The woman of purple eyes and far beauty. He never went back on his word and he had indeed returned to the home seeking companionship. However from the first sight of the house he could tell something about tonight was aniss.

Something wasn't right.

The darkness both swallowed him up and closed off the ways both in front and behind him making each end of the pathway difficult to see with the already limited vision he had. Heightened senses were one thing he had been thankful to have retained from years of harsh training to his body and mind. Closing off all senses to be more enlightened to one's world in a different light. Each echo of his footfalls ringing in his mind as the airways of his body forced himself to absorb more oxygen out of the air and each heart beat thudding against his ribcage. Throbbing sensation reaching from his head to his feet with every passing second he was surrounded by the buzzing swarm of danger. Enlightened by the stings of fear. Danger. Dread. Doom. Like many wasps penetrating his most basic human emotions and swelling them up to the point of combusting dangerously all over the peeping, teasing darkness. The soft silk touch of his yakata met his hand. It was hard to move...Hard to will it to move running along the soft fabric to something more smooth and hard. Both basic instinct wasps forcing him to do something so familiar to combat the combustible feelings. To grab at which to protect him and cut it away like a sickeningly sweet cake of misery and despair. Instincts wailing to protect himself from dangers he had yet to see. Had yet to reveal themselves to him. Hopefully to be chased away by the sounds of the silver blade being unsheathed and held out into the darkness to cut it's tainting self down a notch. That his willpower will always prevail over it. Each door slowly passing a tainting gateway. Each with a promise of safety behind it and perhaps even it had occupants inside using it. taking up it's offering of safety from the darkness now dead asleep highly unaware of the sword wielding warrier just roaming outside arm outstretched and staring down the one that dared teased him the most with it's fake promise of protection.

And that promise he would soon come to learn was broken and not even promise to one individual soon enough. As sweat formed on his skin in an attempt to cool it from the harsh tainting from the moment he was face to face with the door that broke it's sacred promise. At first glance to one in the dark it was as taunting as all the others he had just passed, but if one took time to see it's true mockery and failure hidden by the teasing darkness they would've seen it. The remnants of a beast. Looking as though it had clawed and kicked it's way at the door's sacred locks to be allowed entry inside the room beyond it. In it's wake leaving the door in misery and ruins. A slight opening between itself and the wall where one could look into the room beyond it and see nothing but more darkness laughing back at you.

It begged for him to open it further, to peek further into the darkness beyond the door that should have protected the occupant inside. The apartment was still, quite, far too quite for his liking. The broken splintered door only left so little to memory, and with cautious pushed aside Goemon shoved the door open to reveal the horror to his eyes. His eyes widened: there where obvious signs of struggle, evident by the turned over coffee table and the furniture pieces that lay toppled on their side as though someone had carelessly kicked it over in its rampage. Goemon treaded carefully inside the apartment, his shoe crunching on the remains of a picture frame that had been knocked over, its broken shiny cover a perfect match of the doorway half hanging from its hinges - the cover to what lay beyond broken to bits. Someone clearly had been here and there was very obvious signs of a struggle.

And SHE was gone.

Taken by something or chased out he wasn't sure. But the entire small home was wrecked. Then he smelt it. A familiar smell of a human male and animal pelts. It sent a rigid feeling through his veins before an intensify in calm, silent rage. A rage so intense that he felt nothing but calm. Well now...if someone wished to see his wrath so be it. But let it not be said he didn't warn him.

"LET GO OF ME!!" The rage and desperation in your struggling was all for nothing as you were continually dragged against your will towards the destination of your kidnapper's choosing. You didn't know what was worse. The sting of the ropes forced around your arms forcing your arms to your body, or the too big white kimono that was forced over your head. A tacky excuse for a wedding kimono. "HELP!! SOMEONE HELP ME!!"

"SHUT. UP." A man's voice hissed near your ear and painfully pulled your body uncomfortably close to his face as Nori hissed. "No one's gonna help you. They're too scared of getting carried away by invisible monsters." You winced as he gave a hasher tug. "And no one will suspect a thing. They'll just think you got carried off by a bad monster and forget all about you. And by the time anyone else thinks otherwise we'll be long gone." He chuckled next to your head making you lean forward away from him. ''Won't we, My Little Wife? I just need to get refuge at the temple and have one of the monks bless our union."

You hissed leaning away from his rotten breath. You had to get help! Where was everyone!? No one even peeked their eyes out to see your yelling through the windows. Your screams and cries of help echoing out through the night and going unanswered. You were being kidnapped and no one was going to help you! Nori laughed again behind you and you gritted your teeth before leaning forward more and with all of the strength in your jaw, you bit down onto his bandaged broken hand. Nori's reaction was instant. He. SHRIEKED. He shrieked in pain in ways you've never heard a man scream before but you continued to bite down when he started flailing. Taking the opportunity to catch him off guard, your head snapped back releasing his hand to collided the back of your head with his nose painfully. Your head throbbed immediately after but it worked. He let go.

You RAN.

your legs moved your body in a speed you've never thought was possible back up the road where you were dragged from. Your heart pounded in your throat. The back of your head throbbed from where it made contact with Nori. And behind you you heard his hellish screaming. Your footsteps echoed throughout the empty silent streets giving away your position as you continued to run- Until something slammed into your back hard enough to send you flying forward and landing painfully onto your face.

"You stupid girl!" He snarled above your struggling form trying to get yourself up without your arms to lift you. "I swear when I get done with you you'll be nothing but a-"

"A what?"

Nori snapped up to the voice and you froze from the intensity behind it but relieved that at least SOMEONE else was here to possibly help you. Nori's face contorted into one of absolute horror at the sight before him. His scream cut off by a hand wrapped around his throat before lifting him up as you continued to struggle. Eventually your head lifted up and you froze at the sight of a hundred miniature legs and you followed them up until they connected to a segmented body..It's shiny outer shell shined I the red moonlight but you could see anymore than that due to your position. Nori was raised until he was staring in horror. His face reflected in six eyes shiny from the moonlight.

"I warned you." A gutteral hissing sound left his throat the jaw unhinged and two mandables pushed themselves out from the maw.

Nori shrieked.

Your eyes clenched shut hearing his scream end with a sickening crack sound and then there was a loud thud of something else behind you. You froze not daring to move. Until something was suddenly raked down your back and you were suddenly freed from the ropes. But that doesn't mean you were out of danger yet as something Snatched you up by the back of the kimono and pulled up into two arms and carried up by hundreds of those mini legs until you were twisted into held up bridal style as something turned and you snapped your head up...only to feel absolute utter horror as not one but three pairs of sinister eyes stared at you from above. Your mouth fell open as the man... Creature??? Walked away

carrying you bridal style in it's arms.

"Oh my gods... Kokushibo."

The six eyes stared at you in acknowledgement to your words before he spoke.

"I told you. I make it a point to always keep my word, and I intend to keep my word on keeping you."

116 notes · View notes

warrior-names · 10 months

Text

Edgy Warrior Prefixes & Suffixes

Return to your roots. Make cringe emo cats. etc.

50+ prefixes and 30+ suffixes under the cut!

Prefixes

Adder-

Bat-

Belladonna-

Black-

Bleeding-

Bone-

Broken-

Cold-

Crow-

Dark-

Dead-

Dusk-

Ebony-

Echo-

Eclipse-

Ember-

Fallen-

Fang-

Flea-

Foxglove-

Frozen-

Hemlock-

Holly-

Hornet-

Ice-

Jagged-

Lost-

Maggot-

Mandrake-

Moon-

Nettle-

Night-

Nightshade-

Oleander-

Poison-

Quiet-

Rat-

Raven-

Red-

Rot-

Rotting-

Scarlet-

Scorpion-

Shade-

Sharp-

Shattered-

Silent-

Skull-

Snake-

Spider-

Tattered-

Thorn-

Torn-

Venom-

Viper-

Wasp-

Withered-

Yew-

Suffixes

bite

bone

burn

claw

crush

cry

echo

fall

fang

frost

glare

heart

hiss

hope

howl

moon

scar

scratch

shade

slash

smoke

snap

snarl

spirit

sting

strike

tear

thorn

tooth

wail

whisper

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writemekpop · 2 years

Text

Do-Over | Johnny Suh

Summary: You give your kid’s deadbeat dad Johnny one last chance to step up. A snowstorm puts him in danger of letting you down yet again.

Genre: Baby daddy!Johnny, ex boyfriend!Johnny, angsty

Word Count: 1.2k

Johnny laughed at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. In his homemade costume, he looked like a turnip.

He was determined to go all the way for yours and his daughter Rakha’s play. He would make awful jokes, he would hold little Rakha on his shoulders, he would point her out to the other parents and say, That one’s mine!

He was ready to finally step up and be a father to his kid.

The bouquet of long-stemmed red roses for you was a bit much, he now realised. They were the floral equivalent of a confession of love. Maybe he should leave those in the car.

Thick snow piled up over everything. The world looked a day old.

The dash on his bust-up Ford Fiesta said 5:40pm. He might just make it to Rakha’s end-of-term play in time…

Then he turned a corner, and cursed. He had just hit a mile-long stretch of road where the snow had not been shovelled. The land ahead of him was as blank and lonely as a piece of paper.

There was no way to get through.

He whipped out his phone and tried to call you, but there was no signal.

He let his forehead fall forward in frustration.

He would never forget his last conversation with you.

“Just one more chance. Please.” he had begged, trailing you as you strode to your car. You strapped Rakha in the backseat without looking at him, then got in the front.

He held the car door open so you couldn’t shut him out.

You looked coldly up at him. “She barely recognises you, Johnny.”

“I’ll be at the next recital. On time. Early – early, in fact.”

When he saw that glint of steel in your eyes, he remembered why he had fallen in love with you. Your words cut like razors, but even as it ached, he loved you for it.

“Go get some sleep, Johnny,” you said. Your nose curled. “And a shower.”

You tried to close the door, but he stopped you one last time.

“Y/n” Johnny said quietly. “When will I see you again?”

You let out a shaky breath. “Fine. She has an end-of-term play. But if you don’t make it to this one… I don’t want to hear from you again.”

You stood at the back of the tiny church, glancing at the clock. You kept picturing Johnny thundering through the doors, blurting out apologies in his bull-in-a-china-shop way.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

You still worried about Johnny. You would never tell anyone this, but it was true.

Every night, you would get up at around midnight, leave the bed without waking your new boyfriend Mark, and walk out onto your tiny balcony. Standing there, you would silently ask the universe where Johnny was. If he was still living in his parents’ basement. If he was eating alright.

If he still thought about you.

Then you would go back to bed, without ever telling a soul what you had done.

The curtains opened for the play, and you applauded with all the other parents. You watched Rakha’s little face fall when she realised Johnny wasn’t with you.

That was when you realised. Just like Rakha, you had still secretly believed that Johnny would show up.

Of course, he’d forgotten.

You felt like an idiot.

Johnny felt a fire burn in his belly, despite the freezing air in the car.

He would get to that recital if it killed him.

It was a blizzard now, but he was only about twenty minutes’ walk from the church.

He pushed his way out of the car and started the slow trek, using an old map to shield his head. The wind howled in his ears. Each flake of snow was a tiny blade.

He couldn’t feel his fingers, but he was determined to keep going. It wasn’t just his baby girl he was fighting for.

It was you.

“You know what my husband Mr Giant likes best? Little girls on toast,” a girl in Rakha’s class shouted. “Quick, Jackie, hide!”

Rakha, who was playing Jackie in Jackie and the Beanstalk, jumped behind a cardboard cut-out of a pot.

There was silence.

That was when you realised your mistake. Unable to resist Johnny’s pleading, you’d let him play the Giant in the school play. It was a tradition that one parent would take part in the play with the children.

Rakha’s face started to turn red. Her eyes flicked to the door and back. The sight was torture for you.

You were rigid in your seat. Should you jump up and be the Giant?

Suddenly, the double doors at the back of the church slammed open. Everyone turned around.

A six-foot tall, monstrous figure limped into the room. It was shaking, and covered with snow and mud.

Its voice thundered through the room. “FEE-FI-FO-FUM! I smell the blood of an Englishwoman!”

All the kids squealed with joy. Even the teachers were laughing.

You were the only one not smiling.

Johnny’s half-hearted attempts at parenting were almost more painful than if he just disappeared. They made you hope. And hope was a road that led nowhere.

When the play was over, Johnny lifted Rakha up onto his shoulders. She proceeded to pull his ears and try to control his movements like a puppet.

When Johnny saw the look on your face, he put her down.

Your arms were crossed. “The play started at six, Johnny. Not six forty-five.”

Johnny explained everything about the snowstorm, and how he had to abandon his car.

You didn’t want to believe him, but you had to admit he was telling the truth. And… it was a little sweet how he’d learned all his lines.

Johnny smiled.

“What is it?” you said.

“I just realised how I remember this church.”

He walked into a dusty music room filled with old pianos and organs.

He turned to face you. “Have you really forgotten? My 18th…”

You chuckled, your face heating. “Oh my god. Was it really this room?”

Johnny pretended to lay himself seductively over a grand piano. “My very first time.”

“Shut up,” you said, grinning. Then you saw that he was serious. “I was your first?”

Johnny came close and placed his hands on your waist. You placed yours on his shoulders, just as you used to do.

Johnny leaned slowly down and kissed you. His lips were unbearably sweet.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked quietly, though you already knew the answer.

“I want to try it for real,” Johnny said. “I want us to be a family.”

You wished you could be like your daughter Rakha. You wished you could love Johnny effortlessly, for love’s sake. Without having to remember all the times he had let you down.

It wouldn’t be that easy. You were a parent now.

But then, why it felt so natural so be in Johnny’s arms, despite the years you had spent apart. Johnny was your home. It was as simple as that.

“How about… we start with the Easter fair, and we can take it from there?”

Johnny was about to protest, but you put a finger to his lips.

You grinned. “Just to warn you… that costume of yours did not exactly hold up in the rain. You might want to put that jacket back on before somebody calls the police.”

Smirking, you walked away, leaving Johnny in that little hall.

They say you cannot choose your family. You could not choose whether or not to love Johnny.

You would always love him.

It was as simple as that.

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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kiliinstinct · 6 months

Text

Chapter 29:

Rating: R Pairing: Nalu FF.Net || AO3 [Ch: 1] ||| [Prev] | [Next] A lil' late, but could be worse. March Post Dates: 28th (Yes, my Birthday!) April Post Date: 16th As you can see, there will be only one post next month due to me taking part in Camp Nanowrimo. (Similar to Nanowrimo but shorter.) Two chapter posting will continue in May

Lucy craved those nights where she rested with ease, letting the comfort wash over her in a wave. Now she struggled to hold onto sleep, curled tightly beneath her covers and pressed against the wall, as though they could keep her errant thoughts at bay.

Of course she knew that Kage was too injured to be of danger to her. And she trusted Makarov's decision with the other mysterious newcomers. She knew she was safe. Except every time Lucy shut her eyes, she couldn't quiet the restless voices of the stars crowding her mind.

With her magic stable she thought that she could fully understand them or speak to them at will; That these painful night terrors would cease. But they persisted, louder now as they clamored for her attention.

The warnings were jumbled, as if thousands of echoing voices spoke at once. They spoke over each other in a desperate attempt to get their messages across. Lucy could barely make sense of them, the words were said too quick for her to catch only bits and pieces.

'--careful-'

'Don't.---- trust—-draconis'

'--safe–, find safety-'

Sharp pain ripped through her temples, pricking the corners of her eyes with hot tears when she tried to focus on their distress. She couldn’t find her voice as it was overwhelmed by another cacophony of voices swelling inside her skull. The pain felt blinding even though her eyes were shut. With gritted teeth, a whimper slipped through, and finally the voices from the sky dimmed their voices. The sudden reprieve left her confused and light headed, but with no answers.

And in the following, guilty silence, a few whispers would follow, 'we're sorry...'

It was maddening. Did all of her clan have this issue when their abilities first developed, or was she simply an unpracticed novice with no grasp of her blood right?

Sleep did claim her, eventually, though her fingers still clutched tightly to the blankets. Her head felt stuffed with cotton. A muted feeling that felt almost as choking as the multitudes of shouts that had plagued her before.

Though the stars were silent, peace evaded her.

Dreams- no, memories? -hazily filled her mind; Of blood red moons and blackened skies coupled by a piercing howl. They held the soured taste of rotting flesh and permeated the air beneath her blanket. Paralyzed by the visions that have haunted her since winter, she stared, unseeing at her ceiling as each visage crossed her mind. She thought the dreams had stopped, but that was a short blessing before they returned in a cacophonous nightmare. A calm before the storm.

Just like the star’s cryptic warnings, these visions overtook Lucy and filled her with a confused panic. Some were sickeningly familiar despite the shifting landscapes that she struggled to comprehend. Each new horror she was forced to witness was met with the equal struggle to piece it all together.

All too late, the spell broke and she woke with a start, body finally moving as she screamed from a phantom pain tearing through her chest. She recalled the talons that struck her down, again and again, and choked on nonexistent blood. Sweat coated her skin, but she shivered, curling into herself as she grounded herself to the home around her. Safe and far from danger, and suddenly too cramped and exposed all at once. It was a contradiction that left her vulnerable. The walls of her empty home provided little comfort as the last vestiges of her dreams echoed in the chaos of her mind.

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest and she slipped from her covers to stand on wobbly feet. She could still taste the blood and nausea dizzied her. She stumbled to the nearest tub of water in a desperate attempt to rid herself of the taste. She needed to get rid of it; for everything to stop before she fell apart. She needed -

Air.

She needed air.

After one sip, Lucy stopped sharply and turned, making a beeline for the doorway. She barely had the mind to put on her sandals properly, leaving them half tied and clinging to the bottom of her feet as she hurried out of her home.

The chemise she wore dropped past her ankles, trailing against the dirt path. It didn’t register in her hazy thoughts. Too out of it to consider her state of dress, or to bother lifting it to avoid catching dirt. There was no thinking, not even to consider her destination. There was just the need to escape the stuffy air of her own home.

She didn't understand it, and the tears of a pain she barely knew continued to pour from her eyes, dripping down her face.She didn’t bother to wipe them away. It wasn't until she was face to face with Natsu's door that she snapped out of her desperate trance.

Why….did she come here? She wondered, looking to the sky to peer at the stars twinkling through bits of cloud cover. It was a beautiful night and the smell of the sea-salt was a welcome comfort, but her fingers wavered above the handle of the draconis' door, thinking back to the warnings she'd had before her failed rest.

To be wary of a draconis…..Why would she be warned against Natsu? Or was it a different warning entirely? Gnawing at her lip, she looked to where Natsu's nightly keeper should be and bit back a hoarse laugh.

Apparently, Cana had finally been forced to take her turn. Her heavy snores gave away her location, fast asleep on a mat just behind a barrel they'd used as a table.The scent of alcohol permeated the air.

Wouldn't now be the perfect time to chance an escape, then? Lucy considered the fire user inside, huffing in fond amusement. It was possible, but something in her gut said he'd be there.

A fact that was proven correct the moment the door swung wide and Natsu's tired, worried eyes met hers. Lucy’s hand still wavered in place, above where the handle used to be and he scrunched his nose at the sight of her.

“You've been crying.” It wasn't a question.

She didn't bother denying it. “I ... I couldn't sleep.”

Their voices were quiet, staring at each other with the crickets and other bugs buzzing along to the sound of the ocean's waves. He must’ve thought her crazy, to come to him in the dead of night, standing at his doorway in her bed wear with half an explanation. It wasn’t her intention to disturb him, but here she was, witnessing his own red-rimmed eyes and tired hunch to his shoulders. A sign to his own difficult night; He likely didn’t need her hanging around in this state.

He pursed his lips and Lucy cringed. She should leave, she thought.

Natsu however, stepped aside, ushering her in. “C'mon... there's room.”

She blinked, “... room?”

With pink dusting his cheeks, he cleared his throat and reached for her, tugging her gently by the hand inside. “... my bed's big enough. You can stay.”

“But-” Lucy stammered, feeling her face warm and she coughed, “shouldn't I just-”

“You’re already here. Wouldn’t be right to just send you off when you came all this way.” The door clicked shut behind them. He led her across the (mostly clean) room with a warm hand on her back. She ignored the shiver his body heat caused when it touched her chilled skin. “And….you did it for me once.” he reminded gently, biting back a yawn.

“Just let me by the window. The wind's cold tonight.” He clambered into bed first, pushing the mound of blankets and pillows towards her. She was left to awkwardly follow suit, scarcely leaving any for him. He gave no indication he minded.

And just like that, she felt as if everything fell back into place. The unease of her dream ran to the edges of her mind and the tears stopped stinging at the corners of her eyes. Lucy was finally at ease.

“...thank you.”

The voices she'd struggled to understand had become static during her short jaunt and the moment her head hit the pillow, they silenced completely. Her body relaxed from the heat of the furs and she snuggled into the offered pillows with little fuss. She was too tired to think about it while basking in the comfort she'd unwittingly sought out.

She welcomed the quiet and the sensation of Natsu beside her, keeping Lucy grounded into the depths of dreamless sleep.

Unfortunately, Natsu wasn’t as lucky.

His mind was buzzing with thoughts as the blonde's breathing grew even. Though she resembled a mini mound of blankets, he could still see the top of her head. Her face was uncovered, pressed against the pillow as her golden locks drifted across her face.

Natsu held back a light snort. She’d taken the small bit of furs he’d tried to save for himself. He didn't really need it, but the fact that she had so swiftly stolen it all was amusing. He braced his back with what was leftover, holding him at an angle and providing a little space between them. Between that little space, he focused on her even breaths in quiet consideration.

Tracks of tears stained her face. The view had disturbed him greatly, though that was nothing new. He never liked it when she cried, but he wasn't so oblivious not to notice the parallel between his own dreams. His nightmares had led him to her bed months ago and the panic she fell into the next morning still haunted him.

Lucy had assured him it was fine, no fault of his own. But he couldn’t rid himself of the guilt he felt for inspiring such panic. The wild look in her eyes had taken him back to the night he found her, terrified and near hysterics. He never wanted to see that look on her again, much less be the one to cause it.

He'd make certain not to repeat the event. He vowed.

She wrinkled her nose as a strand of hair tickled her nose. Reaching across the carefully crafted space brush it aside, he paused when a tiny sneeze left her. Natsu smiled, biting back a chuckle. Once upon a time, she would’ve flown into a flustered rage at his attempts to offer comfort. It almost felt a lifetime ago when she’d chase him off to struggle with her nightmares alone. To have her come to him, even when many friends lived much closer to her hut sparked warmth in his chest.

The thought pleased him, though he wished the circumstances were better.

His rest had been unusually light, easily awoken by her scent on the wind accompanied by the cloying smell of his keeper’s many drinks. He'd purposefully flung his door open to check on her, almost certain something must be wrong. The fact she merely wanted comfort should have calmed him, but his instincts boiled inside, calling him to stay alert.

There was something else that tainted the air and had him wary. With her by his side now it was much easier to pinpoint: someone else roaming the streets, and they were circling to his home.

His lip curled at the scent just beyond his walls. Metal, clean and unnaturally sharp pierced the night’s chill air. It carried with it a taste of a home long forgotten. The reminder made his fists ball up tight with a simmering rage.

The strange draconis was here; Denied visiting him all day only for him to escape his confines and come straight to Natsu. He swallowed a snarl as he heard the careful shuffling that passed a blissfully unaware Cana.

He sensed his presence on the edge of the barrier, just out of view of the window's opening, silent like a predator on the hunt.

Unfortunately for him, hiding from another predator would take more skill than that. Natsu growled low in warning, narrowed eyes glancing back and forth between the opening and Lucy.

The presence drawled, low and amused, “Easy now, don't wanna wake the girl do you?”

“You shouldn't be here.”

He chuckled, ”No? It's stuffy in that keep of yours and I got a lil antsy. Figured I'd stretch my legs a bit, enjoy the air, and see the sights. Nice place ya' got here.“

Natsu squinted as he shifted to peer through his window, trying to pinpoint his visitors' exact location. His warning growl never left his throat, sitting there on a low frequency that rumbled through him as the seconds slipped by. A dull ache began to form because of it, but that hardly mattered.

One of Jose's men was right outside and Lucy was right there and -

Natsu’s pupils thinned at this revelation, baring his fangs as heat crawled across his skin, answering to the swell of magic inside him. ”If you think I'm not willing to burn my own house down to keep you away from her, you're dumber than your shadow friend.“

The strange Draconis' laughter cut short, molding to a disgusted snort instead. Natsu listened to him shift, body pressed against the wall just beneath his window. Was he just kneeling there? He narrowed his eyes, watching the sill, barely seeing the bits of jet black hair waving wildly from the soft breeze.

Natsu heard a soft thud as the man sat down. Mocking amusement laced his hoarse whisper grated his ears. ”The girl’s nothin to me. If I wanted to grab her before she would’ve never made it here in the first place.”

Cana’s breath hitched from where she slept, making both men pause, but her heavy snores only deepened and the other draconis continued.

“Seriously, how do you think I got here? Your scents all over the place, but finding her waltzing around smelling like you've been tussling in the bed sheets? I couldn’t have asked for an easier trail to follow.”

“... That ain’t- ” Natsu froze in denial, refusing to correct the assumption. If he thought he and Lucy were together, he could use it as another layer of protection for the time being. “Then out with it,” Natsu snarled, “I ain't into vague bullshit. Get to the point.”

“Gihee,” was the only response. Already his temper was reaching its limit and this man’s twisting words were pushing him to fly through the window and rip his hair from his head.

”Can’t I spare a greetin’ for my fellow clansman?” The man asked innocently, though something tinged his words that Natsu couldn’t pinpoint. “ I'll head back to my quarters soon enough. Everyone will think I'm being a model guest, promise.“

This wasn't making any sense to Natsu, and the growl he unleashed was louder than intended. Flinching, he glanced back to Lucy who curled in on herself, legs entangled in the blanket, but otherwise, still deep in sleep.

”Don’t put me in the same box as you,“ He spat, ”you're just another enemy.“

Flames licked at Natsu’s palms as he moved to sit up, patience thinned to nothing. This man broke out for what? To say nothing? Empty words that pulled at buried memories and old feelings. He didn’t have a clan outside of his current home, and the sooner Natsu got the chance to sear it into the other’s brain the better.

A gaping silence met Natsu’s venomous response. No longer could he spot the mane of wild hair. The man’s scent was still heavy. He was still there beneath Natsu’s window,though his once even breathing came in shorter bursts, shallow draws almost muffled as though muffled behind his hand.

A strange guilt gnawed at Natsu’s gut, one that made his fire dim. A rustle of fabric interrupted the silence as the draconis moved. Shifting back to his feet he stood tall, taller than Natsu expected. He blocked most of the moonlight. Natsu was not graced with his face, only met with the swath of wild hair that fell down the tresspasser’s back.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be? Came all this way to see if you're alive and this is the thanks I get?“ He spoke, voice cutting, controlled and devoid of emotion. ”Shame. You replaced your real family that easily. That's gonna hurt your uncle's feelings.“

Natsu's breath caught in his throat, the embers on his palm died instantly, ”My—?”

“Don’t think too much on it. Not your clan remember? When I get back, I can tell our Lord Acno-”

He wasn’t given the chance to let the name fall from his lips. Fire sparked back to life in a blaze, wrapping around his body as reason left him. There was no consideration to be careful for his bedmate as panic sank its claws into his soul.

Natsu slammed a fist on the sill, and another swiped the air. He hissed as his visitor ducked from the claws laced with scorching heat that skimmed the edges of his hair.

“I'll fucking KILL you!” Natsu’s snarl broke the fabric of humanity and shook the walls. His visitor ducked into the shadows from Natsu’s assault with a gleeful chuckle. The conversation was over, and the man disappeared into the night, slipping back to his cell. But his final words latched themselves onto Natsu, as strong as dragon claws.

”better cool it with that temper, Little Sun. A joke ain't nothin' to get twisted over.“

Natsu’s breath shuddered, sharp inhales that weren’t enough to sustain him. His claws dug into the charred window sill, turning to ash the more the seconds raced by. He wanted to give chase. To hunt. To eviscerate. Gleaming scales crawled up Natsu’s arms as he began to climb through the window and felt the pull of Freed’s barrier. He didn’t care.

He needed to get to him.

He could hear the heavy footfalls, rushing back up the slope towards the keep. Keeping his word to return to his quarters would not calm him down. Not now, not when...

Natsu choked on a sob as the sill broke under him. Flickering tendrils of dark flames crawled up the walls of his home. He knew. Natsu had to get him, he couldn’t let him escape. The pull of the barrier felt weak under the strain of his fire slipping through the cracks, attempting to force it open.

Darkness filled Natsu’s vision as the last grip of reason crumbled. Black embers fell from his skin and thickened to curls as he felt another break in the barrier. That man would beg for mercy for coming to him. For daring to ruin everything he’d been-

There was a snap and red littered the air in dying sparks. The magic that held him against his will was no more. Manic delight filled his golden eyes. He was free.

Lucy's arms wrapped around his middle, heaving with all her strength to drag him away from the damaged opening. His fire blazed brighter, whirling his head back to glare at her with fury. His lips were pulled back in a fiery snarl and heavy smoke twisting free of his bared fangs as he felt the embers gather at the back of his throat.

”Natsu! Calm down!”

His heart stopped.

Natsu looked down to meet the horrified eyes of Lucy. He was reminded of a different one, clinging desperately to a tree as she glared at him in fear. A different Lucy who'd called him a monster with the same look of terror. A dream becoming reality before his eyes.

His fire fizzled out. The black flames retreated from the walls to sink back under his skin. His earlier panic faded to sudden guilt. He let her drag away back to the bed. His body was a quivering mess due to adrenaline pumping through his veins, and his heart beat rapped against his chest like a hammer.

Lucy didn’t give him a chance to slip away, holding him tight. Natsu didn’t have the strength in him to fight against her and sank into her arms.

Too much. It was all too damn much.

“You...” He gasped. His fingers dug indents into her arms. He could hear her heart pounding rapidly in her ribcage - A match to his own - and clenched his eyes shut, willing his own tears to disappear before she could see his shame, “Why are you…..?”

She shushed him with soft fingers trailing up his back. He didn't know who was shaking the most, her or himself but a war waged inside of him. The fear and anger demanded he seek out the other draconis and tear into him for the sake of the village and himself, but Lucy's strong presence pulled from him a part that craved comfort, that begged for reassurance. Like some terrified child.

He couldn’t have been telling the truth, was he? That he wasn't after her? Was it all just a joke? A cruel, terrible joke?

In the quiet of the night, Lucy continued to shush him. Any attempts to learn what she could’ve overheard was dismissed as she pulled him back under his blankets and still held him tight. Natsu was reminded of the rare times he'd gone to Mirajane as a child, terrified of things he didn’t dare name and looked for solace from anyone he could find.

It had been years since he'd last sought someone out. Within the past few months the vulnerability he choked down reared its head twice now. It was a gift he almost cursed. His teeth clenched tight to bite back the quiet, desperate whines he wanted to unleash.

“We'll talk in the morning,” She assured him, voice calm and resolute, “... and we can tell Makarov everything, okay?”

He nodded, eyes tightly shut as he basked in her scent and curled against her until he wasn’t quite sure where he ended and she began.

And quietly, he hoped he'd still agree with her terms when morning came.

When Natsu woke, Lucy was awake and looking more alert than he felt; Still secured in her arms. Sunlight poured through the window and stabbed at his eyes and he groaned. When she pulled back, allowing him to sit up, he quietly mourned the loss of her embrace, feeling off-center.

Groggily he kicked off his share of the blanket and froze when the sheet crumbled to ash in his hand. Natsu bit his lip to hold down a stunned whine. Ducking his head down guiltily, he turned his attention to the wall, but rather than feel better, it only made him worse.

Charred black ran up the walls and coated the ceiling that was now splintered wood threatening to give way. It was a wonder that it hadn’t collapsed in the night. The sill was crushed in two, but he knew his own claw marks anywhere, and the deep gouges were unmissable as the sunlight dipped in the crevices.

Natsu listened as Lucy slid off the bed, too wrapped up in his thoughts to spare her a glance. Until he heard the unmistakable squeak of pain through clenched teeth that made him whip his head around.

It was through some small miracle that only his side of the bed was burnt, Lucy's side was spared. But Lucy, no matter how quickly she turned away from him, couldn’t hide the unmistakable wounds that dotted her skin.

Her arms were red, angry streaks that crawled up to her elbows from when she’d grabbed him. Despite her desperate attempt to appear fine, she failed to hide the small wince when she gingerly reached for the nearby roll of bandages to wrap them with.

He knew burns, and he knew them well. His magic made him familiar with the scents of charred skin. He could tell from a short glance what would mark a victim forever from a mild singe that would fade over time. What damage he caused to the side of his house was far more intense than Lucy's injuries, which looked more like a hot water burn, but that fact didn't mollify Natsu in the slightest.

He stared with puffy eyes as sickness roiled in his gut. He wanted nothing more than to roll over and vomit the contents of his stomach out onto the floor, but Lucy was between him and the edge of his mattress.

She turned to him when her makeshift bandaging was finished, lips pursed together, “It was an accident. Don't blame yourself. You didn't mean to hurt me.“

”That doesn't make it any better!“ He snapped, ”I shouldn't have lost control like that!“

He wrenched his arm from her when she tried to grab his hand, feeling far worse when her expression dropped. How could she be more hurt by that than the fact he'd singed her?

“You were upset,” She reasoned, “I didn't hear everything, but I caught the tail end. We need to tell Makarov that he escaped his room and threatened you.”

Natsu hated how hoarse his voice sounded when he asked, “... he didn't... How did you -”

Too shocked to rebuff her again, she slipped her hand into his and squeezed lightly. ”I may not know who he was referring to, but no one reacts like you did if it wasn't something awful. I'm not an idiot Natsu.“

He deflated, hiding his gaze behind his pink fringe, ”... nah, you're one of the smartest people know.“

”Compliments will get you everywhere,“ She smiled, tugging him to follow her to his feet. ”Now let's go get something to eat and head out as soon as we can. The sooner the better-” She froze, eyes widening in horror and she swiftly snatched her hand away.

”What is it?” Did she finally realize how much he'd screwed up?

No….that wasn’t it. Lucy spun away from him as he clambered awkwardly to his feet, standing still as Lucy’s arms flew to wrap around her chest. He couldn’t see her face, but if he had to guess it was as red as the tips of her ears.

Her voice sounded unusually small as she shuffled from him. “...How could I have been so out of it last night…..I didn’t think about what I was wearing.”

“Natsu,” She called, shyly.” Can you uh-”

”Can I what?“ He urged her, face twisted quizzically, ”What's up?“

She motioned towards the long nightdress she wore, the once pristine white smeared and streaked with ash, but even that couldn’t hide how sheer the fabric was once sunlight graced it. Far too revealing for a day time walk. ”Can I trouble you to get me some clothes?“

Color crept up Natsu’s neck and he tore his gaze from her, coughing. “ I can’t leave, remember? Not without my keeper following me there.“

“Then let them go with you!” Lucy hissed, “I can’t be seen like this! We can make an excuse for why I’m here. I’m sure Freed or -gods forbid- Gray won’t say-”

Natsu interrupted her hysterical rambling. “Lucy. I think you forgot that it’s Cana who’s on watch right now.”

He heard the click of her teeth as she shut her mouth; could almost see the gears turning in her head. Weighing the options and risks, she tightened her grip, sighing heavily. Defeat forced her shoulders to fall before a bewildered Natsu.

“Distract her while I go through the window.” Lucy said, resigned to her fate.

Despite her drunken night, Cana was wide awake when Natsu opened his door. She'd sluggishly turned to face him, one hand poised on the bell and the other flicking a card out from her pocket, twirling it between her fingers.

“Barrier’s broken.” She stated plainly. “Someone’s been naughty.” She’d slept too deep and knew when Makarov saw the state of Natsu’s home, she’d be chastised for not taking her duties seriously enough.

A hangover had threatened to pound on the doors of her brain when she came to, making her eyesight fuzzy, but even the fortune teller could easily see the blackened wood around what used to be Natsu's window. She'd slept through something and rushed back to her seat to quickly nurse the hangover so she could adequately take care of the situation.

Natsu had torn her attention away from the water she drank, his expression one of carefully crafted indifference. She arched her brow. He seemed too alert for that to be normal: he was hiding something.

“Put the damn bell away, I ain't running off!“ He exclaimed, eyes wide as he waved dramatically at her, ”... you look like shit, didja seriously sleep here all night?“

”No.“ She lied.

”There's a stick in your hair.“

Cana rolled her eyes, ”Yeah and your bandages are half charred and hanging off you. We both have questionable fashion choices. Enough about me,“ shifting her focus back to him, she reached through her hair for the offending twig and drawled, ”Something tells me you had a wild night.“

One would have expected him to have stepped on a nail from the way he jumped, guilty conscience as plain as day on his face in seconds. Cana mentally pat herself on the back as she stifled a yawn and flicked the retrieved stick behind her.

”N-no! How could I?“ Yup, something was definitely up.

”Half the house is burnt to a crisp and Freed’s enchantment is as dead as you are when he finds out.“

Natsu stubbornly hissed.“ But I didn’t go anywhere!”

Well at least she didn’t fail her duties completely, if he was telling the truth, but something was still up. “All that mess just to stay home like a good little boy? Come on, you can tell me. Who’d you pay a little late night visit to?”

Slack-jawed, Natsu stared, frozen in place as he failed to retort. In the end, he just pointed a quaking finger at her and sputtered, “I didn’t go see anyone!!”

“Oh?” She asked, wincing at the dull throb in her temple. She knocked back another swig of water with a smirk. “That’s hard to believe. Was it Lucy?”

The way he froze almost made Cana choke on a laugh. She might not have hit the jackpot yet but she hit something.

He asked in a bewildered tone, “... why is THAT who you guess?”

She blinked. “You're dating. Duh.”

Another curse, “No! We’re not.” Damnit, Wendy!

His voice wavered, threatening to crack from embarrassment. Though Cana almost swore she heard something squeak from further inside the house.

“... well that's boring.” Already Cana was losing her attention on the subject. Teasing her friends was a favorite pastime for her, but there were more pressing matters to be concerned with, ”Hey, nevermind your midnight escapades. Is everything okay?“

The shift in topic threw Natsu off. Cana could see it in his eyes, the loss of light that came with his emotions as he looked off to the side, fangs all but puncturing his bottom lip as he chewed in thought. Cana wasn't a master of her craft for nothing. For all the years she honed her skills and grew her magic, she learned the importance of reading others like she did her cards.

And every fidget and micro-expression the draconis made spoke volumes for her. The accelerated breath, his nostrils flaring as he tried to appear calm. It all spoke of something far worse than a teased clandestine night.

”M'fine,“ He was lying, that she was sure, ”healing fast and full of energy. Totally normal. Why?“

She waited in quiet disbelief, giving him a chance to come clean before she cornered him again. When he didn't seem open for further discussion, she rose from her seat, stretched her arms high above her head and sighed.

”You don’t just burn down your house for fun. Despite how much of a pyro you are, you're not sloppy.” She hummed in thought, running a finger over the pouch that held her cards. “ And like I said, you managed to bust out but stayed put despite all that.”

Cana waved dramatically at the side of the house. “Something freaked you out. Enough for you of all people to not give chase. So what happened?” voice dropping low to keep others from hearing, ”I know you’ve been wanting to break Freed's barrier, but somehow I doubt you'd do this without a good reason. What's going on?“

A drop of blood pooled on his lip as a fang finally broke skin. Natsu didn't react to it, fists clenched by his side as he looked away, “Can we just, not talk about this right now?”

“Natsu you can't just avoid everything whenever there's a -!“

She stepped back, shielding her eyes from the dry heat that burst from his skin. His brows were knitted with worry, but the clench of his jaw and the sharpness of his eyes spoke of a warning. He leaned forward, pleading, ”Please? Let me see the old man first?“

Ah, so it was bad. This didn't bode well. Apprehension pooled in her stomach, but Cana knew when Natsu was becoming more stubborn than man. Grabbing her water, she knocked back the rest of it and cleared her throat.

”... fine, but you can go see him after your next guard’s here. I’m not in the mood to walk all that way, so go clean yourself up or whatever in the meantime.”

Relief brought the tension out of his shoulders, toying now with the singed bandages that wrapped his arms with a much lighter expression. He turned away, pulling the door shut behind him as Cana groaned, rubbing the back of her head. She was not looking forward to the earful she was due for later. She would need something strong before facing the old man. And possibly Freed once he got wind of what happened.

A sharp crack of wood split through the air, followed by the shriek of a very familiar voice coming from inside Natsu’s house. Hold on a minute-

Cana slyly glanced at Natsu out the corner of her eye, partially hidden by the half closed door. But that nervous energy was back again, making him fidget.

“Natsu?” She asked sweetly, “What was that?”

She bolted when he swiftly tried to slam the door shut, jamming her leg in the opening before he got the chance to shut her out.

“Natsu~” Cana dug her fingers into the side of the door, desperate to wrestle it from him. “On second thought, you look like you could use some help with those fresh bandages. Lemme lend you a hand with that.”

“No! I’m good!” He grunted. But in the moment he responded, his grip on the door handle slipped, and Cana wrenched it from his grasp: victory.

“Cana wait-!”

“Outta my way Pinky!”

She kicked the door open, ignoring how it bounced against the wall. Shoving passed Natsu to stand triumphant, grinning gleefully. Lucy, who was ungracefully sprawled atop his bed, squeaked. Utter mortification painted her face and she turned her glare towards Natsu who looked ready to bolt out the open door.

“Uh, sorry?” He said lamely.

“Well good morning Sunshine.” Cana purred, propping a hand on her hip. “Sleep well?” Lucy drew a pillow over her face, curling away from the fortune teller and wishing she could sink through the mattress.

Gray was gonna get a kick out of this.

—

“I thought you’d do better at distracting her!” Lucy accused, her face a constant red as the three of them walked towards the keep.

Cana all too readily agreed to accompany them with this new source of entertainment. Just as she’d too easily agreed to run and get Lucy a change of clothes. She’d left the pair in an embarrassed silence that didn’t break upon her return. Her eyes glittered with mischief as she tossed Lucy a fresh dress. Natsu sheepishly had ducked outside to give her privacy, grabbing a clean vest to slip on as he went.

True to her word, she followed him out with a spring in her step, cheerfully assisting him with a fresh set of bandages, all smiles and no words. But Natsu knew the teasing he was in for. It was only a matter of time.

When the door creaked open with a properly dressed Lucy dragging her feet, Cana turned that cheshire grin on her. She tugged him along, skipping over to throw an arm around both their shoulders.

”So aren't YOU a brave girl,“ She'd greeted and just like that, Lucy's morning became a mess. Cana claimed she had a way to ensure the next guard on rotation would find her at the keep, but how she could manage this, she didn't say.

Instead, their entire walk had turned into Lucy's stomach grumbling complaints at being empty as Cana snarked and teased her at every given moment. Natsu had the grace to look apologetic when she shot him a glare, arms crossed as she simmered in betrayed embarrassment.

”I thought you’d be out already!,“ He retorted, unable to meet her gaze, ”I suck at lying on the spot!“

“You don’t have to be good to hold her attention!”

“That’s why you should’ve gotten out faster!”

”Ugh, you're hopeless.“

Cana, thoroughly enjoying herself, shook them slightly -albeit a bit more gentle on Natsu once she noticed the flinch he failed to hide- and whistled a low, drawn out tune. “You two keep bickering like that and I'll start to think Wendy wasn’t kidding around, Natsu.”

This puzzled Lucy, blinking consecutively as she attempted piecing together what Cana was implying, “Wasn't kidding about what? What did Wendy say-”

“Nothing!” Natsu blurted, glowering at Cana whose expression was a twisted, amused smirk, “Me an' Wendy were just talking yesterday and Cana's being a shit starter like usual.”

“Gee, way to stab me in the heart there, Natsu.”

Lucy frowned, “Maybe you should apolo-”

The fortune teller barked out a laugh and pinched Lucy's cheek, “If I was actually offended. Which I'm not. I know what I'm about.”

Lucy's expression darkened and she elbowed Cana in the ribs, “You're as hopeless as he is.”

“D'aaaw, that's so sweet of you to say, blondie!”

Their banter continued on towards the keep, mostly embroiled with Cana's constant jeers as she poked and prodded both Lucy and Natsu's toleration abilities. Her teasing was constant, searching for an opening and diving in the moment it was found. By the time the keep was no longer a yawning behemoth in the distance, the two were a collection of blushes and agitated scowls.

In contrast, Cana was beaming. She claimed they were the perfect balm for her hangover until she could find her way home.

”That or I'll sniff out Wendy for a headache cure,“ She said offhandedly. And while Lucy wondered if the girl would be willing to help Cana escape the consequences of her own habits, she still wondered just what being they'd upset to bring about such torture this early in the morning.

For Cana was relentless, even in sight of the keep's entrance, left with only one person standing guard at its entrance:

Erza.

”Wait,“ Cana scrunched her nose, ”I don't remember Makarov setting a guard here today, why's she here?“

Natsu' rumbled his reply petulantly, ”What, your cards didn't update you?“

”Oh shut it-“

Ignoring the backsass, Lucy wrenched herself free of Cana's arm and held her hand up in greeting, catching the redhead’s attention. Anything was a welcome change from Cana’s constant teasing. ”Erza! Is Makarov in right now? We really need to...”

She trailed off, taken aback by the brisk pace she suddenly took. Beelining straight for them with an expression so intense, Lucy feared they were about to be punished.

“We didn't do it!” Lucy shouted, surprised by the echo of Cana and Natsu yelping in sync with her.

Erza spared them no words beyond ”Come with me!“ She snatched Lucy by the wrist and promptly began dragging her away from the others. Cana stumbled back, waving her hands in the air as Natsu, eyes flashing, snarled at the action.

It was all she needed to cast her gaze back to the draconis, pointing at him with a deep frown on her face, ”Control your instincts, I'll not have you react like a fool every time Lucy's involved. Now, be a good boy and wait!”

His snarl cut off immediately, eyes wide as she materialized her sword into her fingers, a threat unspoken between them. Before the baffled Draconis could recollect himself, she continued her march, pulling a stunned Lucy off behind her.

“... did she seriously tell you to be a good boy?” Cana asked, mystified, though humor lined her words.

“... why's everyone actin' like I'm a damn dog?“

Natsu's angered shouts and demands for Erza to return so he can properly challenge her for such treatment, went ignored as they echoed into the air and faded. Lucy hoped he'd calm down enough to continue into Makarov's office on his own, almost stumbling to keep up with Erza's rapid pace.

Jostling to and fro, she stammered a quick, “Slow down, I- I'm coming!” To the other, relieved when Erza realized her error and slowed her pace. The crunching of the gravel beneath them became background noise to their trek all while Lucy waited for the determined woman to explain just what she was being whisked off to.

When the answer didn't seem to come verbally, but in the sudden change of trajectory Erza took off the beaten path, Lucy realized she was purposefully changing direction in case of followers. But why?

“Erza, where are you taking me?”

Her reply was a brusk, “In a moment.” As she doubled back on their steps, back to the keep towards the small building attached to it. Lucy had never gone this direction, but recalled hearing others talk about one of the visitors being detained in that very location.

Erza was ... bringing her to one of them?

No wonder she was being roundabout. It was obvious now, the weaponized Romni was intent to keep them in the dark, if only to prevent others from overhearing, or worse, Natsu following.

Lucy could only imagine the explosive reaction he'd have to this.

But that did nothing to assuage the nauseating anxiety that now gnawed at her guts. These visitors were from the group who'd been after her. She knew that much, even with the majority of their goals being kept far from her. While she trusted Erza would never hand her off to an enemy, the situation was too confusing not to question.

When she muttered the others name in concern, tone rising in growing apprehension, Erza finally stopped. Taking in a deep breath, she spun to face Lucy, hands clasping her shoulders.

“Please,” She urged, ”Trust me. You're safe.“

And surprisingly, that was enough. Nodding, she fell into an even pace with Erza, uncertain what she was about to see, but believing it must be important. Why else would she practically kidnap her?

Erza eased open the door to a too cramped room without so much as a knock. She offered Lucy a reassuring nod, gesturing for her to step inside, and though the anxiety told her otherwise, her trust in Erza outweighed the confusion. She stepped through the doorframe and squinted while her eyes adjusted to the low-light.

Of all the things Lucy thought to see, a man seated comfortably in the corner with his nose in a book was not her first assumption. (In fact, it wasn't even on her list of assumptions that ran through her mind in the length of time it took to finish their short trek and for Erza to swing the door open) His gaze flicked to the door immediately, a calm, almost expectant look on his face. He set the book down in one fluid motion and quickly rose from his seat, bowing his head as he did.

”You're earlier than I expected,“ He greeted, eyes flicking to Erza still standing in the doorway before settling on Lucy.

A familiar magic reached out to her, emanating like a warm embrace. It came from a man who stood expectantly with a slight smile on his lips that crinkled the tattoo trailing down the side of his face. She gasped, a hand flying to cover her mouth. She recognized that mark. That pattern, she hadn’t seen anyone bearing that mark on their skin for years.

The world grew dizzy as an aura much like her own magic hummed around him. The soft hues met her like an old, unforgotten friend as tears began to well in her eyes.

”He's... you're,“ She couldn't speak, her words fell from her lips in tangled garble.

It had been so long since she’d felt the pull of a magic like her own, and in his face she could see many who were long since buried in the soil, ”but the others traveled north!” She finally managed helplessly, choking on a sob.

”He has been traveling apart from his clan for awhile now,“ Erza explained softly, ushering Lucy forward as she shut the door behind them, ”But he was with them up North, waiting for all branches to meet them in time.“

”Hello, Lucy,“ Jellal greeted, voice much quieter than Erza's, a gentleness that didn't match his current, gruff appearance, ”... I've been hoping to find you for a long time.“

She couldn't breathe, the room felt too small suddenly and before she knew it, the tears were already dripping off her cheeks. This was something she never thought she'd feel again. The familiar magic, the warm understanding, the taste of stars in the air…

It was too much. It was all too much.

”Have they been treating you well?“ He asked. His concern was genuine.

Another celestial, so like her family and yet so different, and she couldn't manage a proper greeting.

She moved without thinking, flinging herself into his surprised arms. Lucy clutched his cloak tightly as though he would disappear before her very eyes. He was stiff against her, but relaxed when he caught her desperate sobs. Wavering for a moment, he placed a soothing yet awkward hand against her back. Lucy vaguely heard the clinking of metal as Erza came closer, concerned.

But it didn’t matter. She didn’t care that she was making a scene.

She'd found a connection to her family, and that was worth every awkward moment that followed.

—--

Natsu was pissed, and there was nothing he could do about it. Erza's sudden appearance and disappearance with Lucy in tow had left him more off kilter than Cana managed all morning. But now he was finally in the keep, with the front doors slammed shut behind him, and his mind was conflicted.

He told Lucy he'd see Makarov about last night, but ... what about her?

And that Draconis- his lip curled at the thought of him. He was somewhere in the keep, tucked away in its depths, though not as far as Kage, if his nose was correct. He could only catch traces of the shadow user wafting through the air.

Cana banged her fist on the door, breaking through his concentration with her voice muffled, ”Oi! You're on countdown! If you're not back in thirty minutes, I'm sending Sparky AND Mirajane after your ass, so don't do anything funny!“

Damnit. Fortune tellers were the worst.

A snarl of frustration escaped and Natsu pondered the consequences towards derailing his plans to instead seek out the shadow user in the limited time he had. A sick feeling of satisfaction rolled through him at the thought of Kage's face when he advanced upon the cell, flames spitting from his palm to snuff the life out of him clear as day-

-Lucy’s face twisted in horror and disgust, more dream than reality. It flashed, once more, before him and the thoughts withered away. Muttering a curse under his breath, he tore down the hall, ignoring the scent trails of those who threatened him and made quick work of reaching Makarov's office.

While he hoped the chief would already be situated in his office, the early hours could prove to be his downfall. Thankfully, the old man's scent was strong, fresh, and Natsu felt relief when he came upon the door, not bothering to knock as he slammed it open to the small room. He barely recognized the rickety stool he'd knocked over in the process and bared down on the center desk with purpose.

“Gramps! I need to -” His voice cracked, a high pitched squeak that resembled his preteen years and he winced, cheeks turning red. “I gotta tell ya-”

“Why in the hell are you here, talking to me with your wounds still like that, boy?!“ The chief boomed, having almost fallen out of his chair at Natsu's sudden arrival. His hair was askew, wild and poking in so many directions it looked as if he had just rolled out of bed.

Judging from the dark circles under his eyes and the rumpled clothes that reeked of yesterday, Natsu was sure he wasn't too far off.

”Cana's at the-“ He tried again, but he rolled his eyes when Makarov cut him off once again.

”Shouldn't she be relieved by now?!“ He asked, his own voice cracking from exhaustion, ”What is going on here?!“

Natsu slammed his hands on the desk in frustration, “gimme a sec to talk would you?”

His throat may be worn out by the end of the day from all of this, but that didn't matter. Lucy was right. He needed to talk about last night, and this was the only chance he had before he was put under watch again.

When the chief motioned for him to continue, finally giving him the time to collect his words, Natsu continued, “That freak draconis, I don't know what sorta shit you talked about yesterday, but he didn't stay locked up. He got out somehow, followed Lucy through the village.“

Makarov met his gaze with surprise, lip pressed in a thin line as he pondered Natsu’s words. A long pause filled the room, allowing the sounds of mourning doves to enter from the back window and the dry rustling of bugs as they skittered across the stone walls. Natsu could hear it all, but paid each small nuance little mind. As a child, such sounds were maddening for his sharp ears, but it was all background noise these days. When the silence grew too awkward for them both, Makarov rubbed his temples and groaned.

“... please tell me you didn't break out of your house last night to get this information.” He asked, voice full of exasperation.

Natsu huffed, ”No, she was with me and-.“

That caught his attention, eyebrows raising, “She was with you? Now I know you two have been close, but you haven't even done the courting dances yet to be-”

“Not like that!” He interrupted, denying himself the urge to slam his forehead against the desk. Why did this keep happening?

“Why does everyone keep talking about us like we're together? I was told to watch her and I did and now we're friends, stop making a big deal out of-”

“Enough, enough,“ Makarov placated, settling back into his seat, ”Goodness that distracted you far too easily. Go on and it better not involve you breaking any rules to get this information.“

He had to admit, despite the embarrassment of the earlier claims, Natsu was relieved his leader had enough faith in him to hear him out. Already he felt more relaxed, easing off the desk and folded his arms. ”I know cause he came right to me, old man.“

Makarov’s expression darkened and Natsu felt his gut drop at the sudden pressure that was exerted across the room. ”He... What?” His terse tone spilled through clenched teeth.

“You heard me,” Natsu continued through the rasp in his voice, clearing his throat to get his words across, “came right up to my window.”

“Where was Cana during all this?” Makarov pressed and Natsu smirked.

“Dead asleep.” He said simply. He had to get her back somehow.

“And that man? What did he say to you?.” The old man eyed Natsu critically, as he sought out the truth but Natsu already had a lie waiting easily on his tongue.

“Empty threats.” Natsu’s gaze flitted away from Makarov’s doubtful own. “ But he pissed me off and I, uh…. kinda..., blew up.”

“... you did not blow up your house, did you?”

Natsu felt ready to throw the stool out the window, ”I just said Lucy was there, you think I'd endanger her like that?“ Never minding the slight burns he'd given her during his panic the night before. He chose to keep that tidbit to himself.

”So minimal. Good. That's good. I'll send Laki to inspect the damages later, perhaps we can reinforce it.“

”Is that important right now?“ Natsu asked, exasperated.

Makarov clucked his tongue and slid from his seat, moving around the large desk to exit the room. Ushering for Natsu to follow, he led the draconis down the hall with his shoulders stiff and demeanor changing by the second.

”The foundation of our homes is always important, remember that, Natsu.“ He chided, stopping further down the hallway to loudly knock on a door with a quick rap of his knuckles. Instead of waiting to enter, he continued on with a bounce in his step.

Confused, Natsu stood by the acknowledged door, face scrunched as he puzzled out the action. When he caught the slight, aggravated groans of a newly awakened Freed on the other side, he lost interest and began to follow once again.

”Why's Freed here?“

Makarov answered quickly, ”He and Levy spent most of the night double checking and reworking his barrier. They wanted to make absolutely certain that Kage couldn't break through it. I can't say I understand half the discussions over it. Rune and Script magic are like a different language for me, but they seem to figure it out just fine. Never mind that, I want you to get Cana or her replacement in here at once.”

“But-”

“Natsu.” He said, stopping mid-step to look back at him with a glare mastered by any man who parented a child. “I'll not have you wounded and starting fights in my keep. Cana should be resting now, so either her replacement, or her. But do it with haste.”

“You can find me by my scent well enough, so meet up with me once you do.” He ordered, turning his back to the Draconis to continue on his trek, “hurry now, if he's sneaking out at night to threaten my children, then I don't intend to take him lightly. So be quick.”

Natsu didn't have to be told twice.

As much as he wanted to follow after and raise hell, he knew better than to underestimate a fellow Draconis. Retracing his steps, he exited the building just minutes before his time limit was up.

But instead of Cana lounging where he left her, Lisanna was there, absentmindedly watching the songbirds in the tree overhead. His groan caught her attention, turning to him with a smile that he ignored. He hastily sniffed the air for any trace of Cana, hoping to catch her before she escaped too far.

“There's no way you're on the rotation, is there?” He asked with a swing of his head. There she was! Just down the road! He could catch her if-

He was cut by a sharp flick to his nose, forcing his attention to a frowning Lisanna who was poised to attack again. “Hey what gives?!” He protested, holding his stinging nose.

“First off, you’re being rude!” Lisanna snapped, jutting a finger at him. “And why not me? Do you think you're too much for me to handle? Cana was practically nodding off when I got here, give her a break!”

Agh, he didn't have time for this! ”Fine, whatever. Come on then!“

Before she could ask for details, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her inside. He dragged her down the halls as he keenly followed Makarov’s scent, far deeper in the keep than expected for a man of his age and height.

They could discuss it along the way, or explain later, if his throat was unwilling. Already he could feel it swelling from overuse, and he worried what that meant for him once they finally reached their destination.

#ftfanfiction #nalu fanfiction #fairy tail #nalu #natsuxlucy #cana alberona #makarov dreyar #jellal fernandes #this chapter was a lot longer than i expected #this keeps happening lately lol

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happiness-in-fiction · 11 months

Note

Reverse cassette beast request: beast assign YOUR fos

waaaa,,,, okay! for a couple of my mains,, Batou: Southpaw

Oz: Scarleteeth

Copia/Papa IV: Skelevangelist

and En: Brushroom

#r: cyber soulmates #r: a silent howl in the night #r: you will never walk alone #r: mushroom mafioso

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bestanimatedmovie · 1 year

Text

Tumblr’s favorite animated movie, Round 2!

Classification round | Round 1 | Round 3 | Round 4

These are the matches for round 2!

Results overview

Part one:

Alice in Wonderland vs The Adventures of Tintin

Anastasia vs Wreck-it-Ralph

Atlantis: The Lost Empire vs Megamind

Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus vs Rango

Beauty and the Beast vs The Prince of Egypt

Big Hero 6 vs My Neighbor Totoro

Brave vs The Iron Giant

Coco vs Toy Story

Coraline vs The Lion King

Encanto vs Grave of the Fireflies

Fantastic Mr Fox vs Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio

Finding Nemo vs Kiki's Delivery Service

Hercules vs Perfect Blue

How To Train Your Dragon vs Up

Howl's moving castle vs The Super Mario Bros. Movie

Inside Out vs Wolfwalkers

Kung Fu Panda vs Treasure Planet

Kung Fu Panda 2 vs Who Framed Roger Rabbit vs Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper

Lilo & Stitch vs Ratatouille

Monsters Inc vs Princess Mononoke

Mulan vs Shrek

Ponyo vs Song of the Sea

Puss In Boots: The Last Wish vs Shrek 2

Rise of the Guardians vs The Emperor's New Groove

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Movie vs The LEGO Movie

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron vs The Mitchells vs. the Machines

Spirited Away vs The Princess and the Frog

Tangled vs The Incredibles

The Last Unicorn vs Toy Story 2

The Lorax vs Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie vs Turning Red

WALL-E vs Your Name

Part two:

101 Dalmatians vs Sailor Moon R: The Movie

A Goofy Movie vs Rugrats in Paris: The Movie

A Silent Voice vs Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit

Astro Boy vs The Pagemaster

Barbie Fairy Secret vs Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses

Birdboy: The Forgotten Children vs Star☆Twinkle Precure the Movie: Wish Upon a Song of Stars

Brother Bear vs Meet the Robinsons

Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie vs Isle of Dogs

Chicken Run vs Watership Down

Cinderella III: A Twist in Time vs Klaus

Ernest & Celestine vs Liz and the Blue Bird

Fantastic Planet vs Kirikou and the Sorceress

Hoodwinked! vs The Nightmare Before Christmas

In This Corner of the World vs Ringing Bell

Interstella 5555: The 5tory of the 5ecret 5tar 5ystem vs Persepolis

Kubo and the Two Strings vs Robots

Lu Over the Wall vs The Legend of Hei

Metropolis vs Whisper of the Heart

Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind vs The Great Mouse Detective

Night Is Short, Walk on Girl vs The Secret World of Arrietty

ParaNorman vs The Tale of the Princess Kaguya

Penguins of Madagascar vs Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva

Phineas and Ferb: The Movie: Across the 2nd Dimension vs Promare

Puella Magi Madoka Magica the Movie Part III: Rebellion vs The Secret of Kells

Stormy Night vs Digimon Adventure: Our War Game

Tehran Taboo vs The Sorcerer's Apprentice

The Book of Life vs The Sea Beast

The Boy and the Beast vs Tokyo Godfathers

The Brave Little Toaster vs Unicorn Wars

The Breadwinner vs Zombillenium

The Little Prince vs The Thief and the Cobbler

Wolf Children vs The Phantom Tollbooth

#best animated movie #round 2 #long post #animated #animation #not a poll #tournament poll #tumblr's favorite

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fanfictionhab · 8 months

Text

Dance Macabre: v1

Lore: Enemies-to-lovers Female Tiefling + Astarion

ao3 link

The cobbled teeth of the alley bit into Caelia's thin soles, each step echoing in the cavernous silence. Her breath, a ragged ghost escaping her lips, mingled with the chill that clung to the damp brick walls. Every rustle of unseen fabric, every distant howl carried on the wind, sent prickles of fear dancing across her skin. The city, once a haven, now felt like the maw of a predator, its shadows whispering tales of a monstrous hunter stalking the night. Yes, she had heard the rumors. The whispers had shadowed Caelia like wraiths ever since she stumbled into Baldur's Gate. Among the migrants along the way, there were tales of cloaked figures, silent reapers gliding through the moonlit maze, leaving laughter replaced by chilling absences. At first, she'd scoffed, dismissing them as tavern whispers and flickering lamplight playing tricks on weary minds. But now, threading through the city's narrow veins at night, a prickling unease crawled beneath her skin. She understood why there was such a rumor. The once-thrumming pulse of the city had muted to an unnerving hush, the darkness pressing in like a suffocating shroud. The whispers, once dismissed, now echoed with a bone-chilling truth, their spectral voices whispering from the damp brick walls, warnings etched in the shadows. Caelia clutched the worn leather satchel containing her meager belongings, its weight a grounding anchor in the swirling vortex of her unease. The tavern, a beacon of flickering light visible through the labyrinthine alleyways, was her only relief. Reaching the tavern, that lone beacon in the oppressive darkness…

As she was walking, suddenly a shiver ran through the air, a prickling sensation like cobwebs catching on her exposed skin. It wasn't the wind, nor the distant hum of the city. It was a presence. A presence with an air of sharp frequency, a palpable aura of crimson that sent a wave of dread chilling over Caelia. A shiver danced down Caelia's spine, and her fingers subconsciously found their way to the worn leather grip of the dagger strapped to her thigh. Its familiar feel offered a flicker of solace against the creeping fear that tightened its grip around her. The tavern, so close and yet so agonizingly far, seemed to mock her with its promise of safety. The trembling in the air intensified, turning into a palpable pressure pressing against her chest. Her steps faltered, eyes straining to pierce the veil of darkness ahead. The whispers of suspicion that crept through the alley coalesced into a single, ominous certainty: she wasn't alone. Caelia's heart pounded against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the chilling silence. Her hand instinctively gripped the hilt of her dagger, knuckles white against the worn leather. The shadows writhed, obscuring any glimpse of her pursuer, but the tingling along her skin was signaling unseen eyes fixed upon her. Then, with a sudden, almost imperceptible second, the air itself twisted. Time seemed to stutter, then warp, collapsing into a single heartbeat. Caelia froze, a choked gasp caught in her throat: A figure had just materialized out of the darkness above her face, smoke tendrils merging into a vaguely humanoid shape, reddest eyes blazing with feral intensity, the glint of a knife held high and tight, aimed for a killing blow. Time stopped.

Instinct- honed by fear, snaps Caelia into action. Her left hand, imbued with arcane energy, wove the quickest defensive spell: an aard shield. A shimmering barrier materialized around her, deflecting the attacker's vicious blow with a deafening clang. The shield pulsed with residual energy, the air was still crackling from the clash. The creature fell sprawled, the knife clattering uselessly at his side. The feral rage had drained from his red eyes, replaced by a flicker of surprise, then dawning recognition. "Magic shield?" he rasped, his voice a rough scrape against the silence.

Cautiously, Caelia stayed silent and approached, her hand was still holding the dagger. As she approached, the silver light of the moon reflected from an open window above, revealing his silhouette. The light bathed the figure in an ethereal glow, revealing a lean, almost skeletal frame shrouded in tattered clothing. His skin was almost translucent, giving him a ghostly pallor that contrasted sharply with the bright white, curly locks of hair cascading down his head. His nose was well-defined, giving him an air of confidence and poisé. His elongated, rectangular chin jutted out prominently, creating a perfect alignment with his sharp canines, and was accentuated by the delicate point of his elven ears. His very pale complexion instituted a stark harmony with the bright white curls of his hair, which framed his face in alluring ease. Struck by this first look, Caelia's attention shifted to his body. The red flowing from him stained his pale skin, oozing from fresh cut wounds that whispered of a recent fight that could not be caused by her magic shield. The shield can't cut this precisely. She thought to herself that this encounter could not be his first today, he looked like he fought a million wars before. Caelia's shield pulsed once more, pulling her attention back to reality, the air crackling with residual magic one last time as it vanished. The figure, though disarmed, remained a coiled spring of desperation. Seeing she approached him, he noticed the opportunity. He lunged, claws aimed for her eyes, but Caelia ducked with practiced ease, her foot whipping out to sweep his legs. He stumbled, crashing against the damp brick wall with a guttural curse.

"ah, so agile for a street rat…" he groaned, a glinting smile with annoyance on his busted lips as he finally gave her a proper look. "Ohh…" he said with revelation and revulsion. "A tiefling..."

He scrambled up, eyes burning with feral fury. "Should've called you a street goat, shouldn't I? Horns and all." This time, he feinted left, then lashed out with a right hook that grazed Caelia's cheek, sending a sting of pain through her jaw. She flinched back. As an elder daughter, she did not hold back against his wordplay. As she avenged his cut with a swift jab to his ribs with her horns, drawing another pained gasp from him, she replied in wit, "See? Horns give a definite head-start over losers."

He lunged at her in a moment of seconds. His swiftness ripped fresh lines through the tattered fabric of his old, dirty, gray shirt. The pale skin across his back was unveiled. There, stark against the bloody, wounded canvas, lay a mark. Not ink nor brand, but raised lines of old scars, woven into an unsettling sigil. Runes, alien and ancient, encircled a central symbol, pulsing with a faint, unholy luminescence as his ragged breaths strained them open. Caelia's parry faltered against his lunge, a tremor snaking through her grip. Recognition flickered at the edge of her mind, a half-glimpsed memory from the books she read and whispered warnings in forgotten libraries. Cults, ancient pacts, infernal bargains... The fragments fused, chilling her blood despite the furnace heat of the fight. They continued to exchange attacks while they were both analyzing each other with sinister. With each brutal exchange, her gaze darted back, tracing the lines of the mark, etching them into her memory. The clang of steel became a staccato rhythm against the backdrop of doubt, her every feint a desperate search for confirmation. Then, as their blades clashed once more, the sigil's unholy light flared, momentarily illuminating the intricate runes. A name, written in the language of Infernal which she can read very well as a tiefling, slapped into her mind: Cazador. This mark, etched on this unwitting pawn's flesh, bore the symbol of an infernal pact, a tethered leash to an entity of unimaginable evil. Caelia's breath hitched, and understanding this sank like a leaden weight in her stomach. This wasn't just a duel; it was a brush with a power beyond mortal comprehension, a glimpse into an abyss that threatened to consume them all. The fight raged on, fueled by a newfound, icy purpose for her: to unravel the enigma on his back, a puzzle carved in flesh and steeped in forbidden knowledge.

"Cazador's spawn," she finally grasped, the words tasting heavy on her tongue. "That's what you are."

He froze. The word was like a whiplash cracking across his raw nerves.

Caelia felt a growing unease. This is why his attacks, though vicious, lacked the power she expected from the so-called "monstrous legend". His movements were sluggish, his blows less than coordinated. His desperation, however, was undeniable, etched in the tremor of his hands and the ragged rasp of his breaths. The revelation hung heavy in the air, momentarily suspending the dance of blades. He wasn't a monster. Yeah, as a vampire maybe he was, but. He was not a monster monster. She read about the backstory of vampire spawns and the legend of Cazador. She knew about infernal history and infernal traditions as it was her culture. She knew he was nothing but a human stripped bare, made a monster by its master. His ferocity, she realized, stemmed not from bloodlust, but from desperate clinging to survival. Caelia lowered her dagger, her gaze locked on the sigil, then back to the creature's haunted eyes. He was no longer the predator, but a broken reflection in her eyes. At that moment, under the cold gaze of the moon, the roles seemed to shift: the hunter became the hunted. She was going to start to cling to his prey. While she was standing there with a downed dagger, his heavy breaths filled the silence, punctuated by the occasional cough wracking his thin frame, he was hardly standing.

"My my, why are you staring like that?" coughed from exhaustion. "you liked what you saw, hmm?" The crimson eyes that had burned with feral fury now flickered with something else - knowing that she now knew who he was- it was a sinister acceptance.

"You're..." she started, her voice hesitant. "You're not what I expected." Her voice was softer now, laced with a cautious curiosity. "you are weak."

"Ugh, you hurt me...To be honest, your words are sharper than your dagger, tiefling"

His voice hung in the air, a fragile bridge stretched across the chasm of fear and suspicion. He was catching his breath while trying to ignore the hellish pain of his new injuries added to his previous injuries, but he was still trying to hold on to his blade with all the remaining energy without any will to draw back. The silence stretched, taut as a bowstring. He stared at her, she stared at him: his red gaze flickering between the moonlight glinting off her horns, and her dark gaze skipping in between the sparkles of the same moonlight on his marble skin.

"Pity" as she sighed. A word long absent from her vocabulary, resonated in the street, a foreign echo in the symphony of his suffering. His lips cracked and dry, twisted into a snarl. "Pity? From a hybrid of the devil like you?" His voice, hoarse from exertion, rebelled not her but the circumstances of his life, with a bitter venom. He was trying to get up but failing and slipping aimlessly. Caelia met his gaze unflinchingly, "I see a creature in pain, A creature, perhaps, not so different from myself."

His sharp and high laugh echoed in the alley as he was trying to arise, "Dont insult me by comparing yourself to me"

The words struck a very specific raw nerve in her, and a spark ignited in the embers of her past as a tiefling. He wanted to lash out, to deny her pity, but the fire in her eyes held him back. A hundred years under Cazador's thumb had taught him only to obey, to crave pain, yes... yes he was weakened. But should he be pitied? No, no way. This unexpected pity of this ridiculous horny thing gnawed at his anger, twisting it into bitter, despairing resentment. He was a creature of shadows, forged in cruelty, and saw only scorn, blood, and ridicule, enduring everything they have done to him. Yet, here she stood, offering something he had already cannot tolerate very well - pity. This was the last straw for him. Being pitied by a little demon. Exhaustion was already coiled around him like a serpent, squeezing the last dregs of defiance from his bones. Hundred years of hunger gnawed at his insides, a hollow echo of the hundred battles he'd fought today just to be alive, the blood he'd spilled just to escape the clutches of Cazador. His body, a tapestry of aches and throbbing wounds, felt like a leaden weight against the cold stone wall. He'd fought for hours, danced macabrely on the precipice of Cazador's oblivion palace, only to stumble here. This was the last fight of the night for his freedom. He mistakingly thinking the haste walking sound of a tiefling for another spawn following him and this is why he made the first attack. Even if he made a mistake, he could easily take out a normal person even though he was injured and tired enormously. Now as a last surprise test of this freedom quest, this annoying goat was actually good at fighting! And even, she could beat him, try to pity him, how dare she! The anger against her filled him with a last spark of his diminished vitality. A blessing from darkness. A blessing from vengeance. One last dance. He was the chosen of all these dark feelings. He could feel every torture he ever lived through was burning inside him when he heard the word "pity" from her red-as-hell lips. He was slowly rising, trying to hold onto the wall with his shaken hands as he gained his last drop of energy drawn from vengeance.

When Caelia saw him trying to get up, she shouted, "Get up already!" and threw a sharp blue pulse with her magic, which he quickly dodged. He had that damn smirk replaying on his lips. The soundwaves of a high-pitched giggle slapped on Caelia's face, and he finally stood up: "The ever-elegant shadow dance! ahaha... A dance macabre! The last curtain. Though I must confess, my dear, your steps lack a certain... finesse. Perhaps I should offer private lessons?"

"Your charm might work on moonstruck moths, vamp, but I'm immune to your theatrics," she said. She rocketed a crackling energy of pulse to him again. Tilting his head, amusement dancing in his crimson eyes, hastily dismissed the energy. The concentrated thunder blast crushed the wall behind him, some bricks were demolished. Both of them seemed like a child playing with their meal, or a hunter playing with its prey.

"Darling... Are you sure my charms didn't work on you? You are prolonging this fight instead of finishing me off easily. If you consider my condition-" pointed his wounds, "you can do it but you don't... "

The stand-alone finished when she burst another blast. It hit right beside his head, burning a lock of his curls. This was her answer.

"Oh, how utterly melodramatic. Did you switch to magic again? Can't a gentleman simply appreciate a captivating performance of steel?" His sudden energy surge started to really annoy her. "My patience, like this shiny dagger, is wearing thin. So, unless you have a death wish to accompany your charming wit, just go away or let me be"

"Why, you can just kill me?"

"I am just protecting myself since you attacked me first, why would I kill you if you just leave me be!"

"Oh, I apologize for that. I mistook you for a spawn after me but I liked where this went, I do not want this to stop... This is a dance for survival, a waltz in the jaws of oblivion. And as for who I play for... well, let's just say, I have my shadows to appease... My first entertainment as a free man after I escaped Caza-" She, being done with nonsense, blasted one more energy again but this time it was narrow, like a needle, it was precise, like a stitch. He couldn't dodge this time. It hit him. It hit him badly. After flying about five meters, he adhered to the ground.

The sting of defeat, sharp and bitter, was eclipsed by a crushing wave of weariness. His last energy drip was gone with this final part of the play, and he miscalculated she wouldn't attack while he was speaking. No… No. He wasn't defeated, not entirely. It was simply the exhausted retreat of a soul pushed to its limit. Even the echo of her dagger and magic hand, a distant whisper now, seemed more like a lullaby than a threat. This wasn't surrender, not entirely. It was the weary retreat of a rogue who'd stared into the abyss one too many times. His eyes, glazed with fatigue, drifted to the slivers of dawn creeping through the grime. Perhaps this was it, the final curtain call in a play of relentless pursuit.

As he lay on the ground, "You cannot Kill me," he laughed with agony, voice raw with sarcasm and a twisted longing for the play. "Try to finish it. You cannot. and You wouldn't be the first to try it"

Caelia's gaze softened, a stark contrast to her horns and the shadows playing across her face. "Hm, yes... I can do it easily," she said in mischief, her voice gentle yet childish, "yes I think we should kill wounded animals to end their suffering", pointing at his wounds. "but I don't kill. So just leave me alone" lowering her attack pose and putting her hands down.

He was still in denial. "Let me have a break and we will continue this dance darling, no no. I am not finished" his voice choked, "I just need a moment, catch my breath… because you know... I am... in a fight-or-flight... extra... vaganza for hours now." "I see that. Was it Cazador you were escaping from?" "Y... yes" "How? Isn't it impossible?" she says with the dagger pointed at him and her left hand pulsing with magic. "As you can see, I just made it. Nothing is impossible for me." "You break free from the infernal pact? how?" This doesn't feel right..." her eyes focused him: "This situation" His breath was evaporating on the cobblestones. "You cannot imagine what I can do. Especially when I am furious" he smirked hardly with a flash in his eyes like a fox.

"Aaaw. I think this little wounded bat is furious he got beaten by a "goat." He tried to laugh it off but the century of torment etched into his every muscle. Caelia was trying to grasp his sarcastic contrast to his miserable physical state, but he continued to tease her. "Ahh, don't worry about the wounds,..." with the short and precise inhales caused by his wounds, " I like the pain they give me..."

Silence descended, thick and heavy. His breath, once ragged, sputtered into shallow gasps, each one a tiny rebellion against the encroaching stillness. His heart, once a frantic drum, stuttered, a dying ember flickering against the rising tide of darkness. The world blurred, the edges dissolving into a swirling haze. In that final flicker of consciousness, a ghost of a question echoed in his mind: was it all worth it? Then, with a sigh that whispered into the silence, even that faded, leaving only the echo of a fallen star and the bittersweet melody of a dance forever unfinished.

Caelia's heart was aching with finishing him off and freeing him from his suffering because she knew there was no way to reverse his damned pact. However, her mind was bedazzled by his energy. A flicker of empathy, perhaps, born from her encounters with cruelty and ostracization back in her life... She found herself empathizing with him. It was a dangerous path to tread, offering empathy to this disgusting murderer born of darkness, but something about his haunted eyes stayed in her mind. His claws, she noticed, were chipped and dulled, more like broken Greek statues than weapons. His clothes once seemed sleek and menacing in the dark, were now revealed to be tattered and stained, offering little protection against the night's chill. She stared at him, his silence, not even a single breath, was deafening in the cloaked alleyway. The moonlight glinted off the sigil emblazoned on his skin, a chilling reminder of his origins, yet in his fragile statue-like body, Caelia glimpsed a flicker of something else - vulnerability, the raw yearning for survival that transcended his monstrous nature. She questioned the sympathic thoughts arising in her, what was happening to her? He lay still with his eyes closed. Instead of delivering the final blow, she knelt beside him, she wanted to touch him, soothe him, ease his pain.

Her touch was surprisingly gentle as she traced the sigil on his skin. "Interesting" she whispered. She raised her hand, palm outstretched towards his heart. A soft, emerald light pulsed from her fingers, materializing into a shimmering globe of energy. He tightened, a primal fear of unfamiliar magic twisting his gut. But the pain, the ever-present agony, momentarily receded as the glow brushed against his wounds. A gasp escaped his lips, his consciousness finding himself in the middle of healing… The gasp was not of pain but of something akin to disbelief. In a hundred years of torment, Cazador had never offered him solace, only punishment. And now, this tiefling, a low race born from an ancient sin, a half-devil that should have been his supposed enemy, was giving him a reprieve. His eyes widened with disbelief and he hardly whispered,

"You are… healing me?"

The emerald light bathed him, seeping into his wounds, mending torn flesh and knitting shattered bone. The infernal flames gnawing at his insides flickered and dimmed, the agonizing heat yielding to a cool, soothing wave. As the magic faded, he found himself slumped against the wall, utterly drained. He looked at Caelia, his crimson eyes no longer burning with rage, but filled with a bewildering mix of confusion, shame, and as much as he hates it, a glimpse of gratitude. "Why?" he whispered, Even now, battered and broken, he held a strange magnetism, a pull she couldn't quite place. Was it a pity, morbid curiosity, or something deeper, something whispered by the shadows themselves?

"Why?" she echoed, her voice soft, but almost hesitant. The thought flickered across her mind – Cazador's mark, the whispers of compulsion... but no, it felt different. This was… gentler, subtler. "Because," she finally said, the words tasting foreign on her tongue, "because something in me says so, and I listened"."

His dulled red eyes, wide with disbelief, narrowed at her cryptic answer. But before he could press further, Caelia cut him off. "Look," she said, "this is just some kind of a temporary healing, a false life. This will manage you until you find somewhere safe… This is all I can do since I am not a cleric nor a druid."

He looked at her with the most blunt face ever "Don't-"

"Dont What?" She sighed with shock and nervousness. She palmed her face and gestured down the alleyway, "Rusty Flask three streets down. Room five, downstairs. there's a hidden back window you can enter through to the room that I…I reserved"

He stared at her, his expression was in between blatant and illegible. "And I'm supposed to believe this… generosity?"

Caelia shrugged a flicker of defiance in her eyes. "Believe what you will, but if you want a place to clean up and disappear from the other spawns, that room is yours." She stops and adds a quiver of her intention: "Also…" She hesitated, "this is the first time I've ever seen a real vampire. I am curious about your kind and I know what a spawn goes through… from the books I mean."

"you know... from THE BOOKS?" He laughs as it's the funniest thing ever. His high-pitched string cords echoed on the cobblestones. "Damn, this night started as an opera of an action, a drama, a horror…. but now it's a tragicomedy."

With the shock, the defeat, the tiredness, the revival he had, he wanted to continue enjoying the irritation of her: "A 'thing' solely created to look like a mascot of a Town Ball game… learned about a hundred years of unimaginable torment by a vampire lord from the damn what, books? what do you know about torment you little horned toy"

She had not said a word and with that, she turned away. She was done with all of these, her confusion was also added a cherry on top of this chaotic cake. She was done. She did what she had to do. She protected herself, she survived, and even, she offered healing to her attacker. But now she was done. Caelia started walking, completely ignoring him. He stayed where he was, just silently watching her go. She melted into the street's darkness with disappointment, leaving him behind with the echo of her cryptic offer and the gnawing ache of his wounds. As she navigated the labyrinth of Baldur's Gate, her mind churned. Cazador's mark, the fight, the unexpected pull, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through her defenses… The line between empathy and folly blurred for Caelia. Had she, in a haze of confusion, offered help to a bloodsucker? His sudden shift, a flicker of gratitude or a veiled manipulation, danced just beyond her grasp. Was it a "charm", the ebb and flow of this creature's twisted nature? The answer, like the taste of tiefling blood to a vampire, remained an enigma, shrouded in fangs and moonlight.

Slipping from the alley's hushed whispers, Caelia plunged into the Underbelly Avenue's throbbing heart. Cobbled streets, slick with rain, snaked between shadows, reeking of ale, sweat, and a hint of something wicked. Her mind a tangle of doubts, she navigated the familiar labyrinth, eyes keen in the flickering lamplight. The Rusty Flask's boisterous pulse shattered the alley's silence. With a relieved gasp, she said to herself, "I finally arrived." She enjoyed the colorful aura the tavern gave in contrast to the dark alley she survived. Orcs guffawed, elves murmured secrets, and a lute sang drunken tales. Caelia entered, others' eyes drawn to her own dried blood with questions on their faces, however, she was quickly forgotten in the tavern's rhythm. A grunt, a rumble through a ledger, and the tavern keeper grunted back, "Right then, lass. Follow me."

Up creaky stairs, past hops and pipeweed, she reached room five. Small, simple, safe. A lamp flickered, and a thin blanket awaited. Not much, but a shelter. Caelia sighed, entered, and shut the door, leaving the night's secrets, and whatever dawn might bring, just outside. The room, smelling like rust and moisture but secure, awaited its unlikely guest. A wry smile touched her lips. Perhaps something above her comprehension did whisper of possibilities, and tonight, she'd chosen to listen. Whether by intuition, manipulation, a spell, or simply the strange allure of shadows, Caelia had thrown a lifeline to a creature of darkness, and now, she waited with bated breath to see where the current would take them both.

The moon crawled across the sky, painting Caelia's room in silver stripes. Rest eluded her. Every creak of the tavern, every distant shout from the main floor echoed in her mind like a harbinger of regret. "What have I done?" she whispered to the cold stone walls, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. Should she have killed him? He was a monster after all. The image of him, his glowing skin, broken and haunted... His crimson eyes, pools of the reddish fire, held captive by the leash of Cazador, flickered like a lost pup yearning for redemption. The dissonance, the beauty, and the beast, all flickered behind her closed eyelids, a haunting melody refusing to be silenced.

Hours bled into the night, each tick of the clock a tiny hammer blow against her resolve. Finally, with a sigh that rattled her own ears, she rose. Madness, this was madness. She hated the possibility that all of this was the lure of the innate charm ability of vampires. She couldn't risk her life, or her mission, on a whim. She decided to leave the room before the possibility of him actually coming happens. But still, she could not leave it alone. On the rough-hewn table, she laid out what meager supplies she could spare: bandages, a waterskin, and some stale bread. Bread? She laughs at her pensiveness. She took back the bread. What does a vampire need? Blood. No way. Maybe? She gave up thinking too much. Driven by a mischievous impulse, Caelia's gaze fell on a scrap of cloth she used to tend the cut on her chin, a souvenir from their encounter. It has enough blood to snack on it. It felt too stark, too laden with unspoken implications. She folded the cloth into a discreet bundle, a silent message woven in linen. She left it on the table. A playful challenge, a reminder of their clash. It wasn't much, but it was a bridge, a gesture of uncertain faith. Then, with a final glance at the window, she turned and left the room, leaving only the moonlight and the whisper of possibility behind.

She hesitated a little bit in the hallway. She stood there just long enough to subtly hear the telltale creak of the window opening, and the soft scrape of a step against wood, both sounds coming from her room.

A smile, hesitant and tinged with relief, appeared on her lips. She exited the tavern and she disappeared once more into the web of city alleys.

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moviebracket · 1 year

Text

One group of polls will go up each day and polls will be a week long! Submissions will remain open through the end of the first round, and I'll add some more first round groups depending on submission numbers! Apologies for the brief absence, I had some personal stuff going on.

Movies that lose by smaller margins may have a chance to return to the bracket at the end of Round 1.

Round 1 Group A

Lilo & Stitch (78%) vs Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio (22%)

Pan's Labyrinth (53%) vs Mickey, Donald, Goofy: The Three Musketeers (47%)

Legally Blonde (96%) vs The Last Temptation of Christ (4%)

Brother Bear (59%) vs Kubo and the Two Strings (41%)

Round 1 Group B

Stardust (47%) vs Heathers (53%)

The Batman (2022) (47%) vs Moulin Rouge! (53%)

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (58%) vs Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (42%)

Now You See Me (78%) vs Morbius (22%)

Round 1 Group C

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (29%) vs The Prince of Egypt (71%)

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (32%) vs The Princess Bride (68%)

Rogue One (33%) vs Spirited Away (67%)

Goncharov (90%) vs Love Actually (10%)

Round 1 Group D

A Silent Voice (38%) vs Princess Mononoke (62%)

How to Train Your Dragon (65%) vs The Sound of Music (35%)

Knives Out (43%) vs Howl's Moving Castle (57%)

Little Miss Sunshine (42%) vs The Little Mermaid (1989) (58%)

Round 1 Group E

A Quiet Place (45%) vs Zombieland (55%)

10 Things I Hate About You (72%) vs Lemonade Mouth (28%)

Juno (21%) vs The Addams Family (1991) (79%)

The Parent Trap (1998) (54%) vs Bend It Like Beckham (46%)

Round 1 Goup F

Rent (48%) vs West Side Story (2021) (52%)

Elf (39%) vs The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (61%)

Hairspray (2007) (43%) vs Mamma Mia! (57%)

Clueless (51%) vs Miss Congeniality (49%)

Round 1 Group G

Forrest Gump (50%) vs Kingsman: The Secret Service (50%)

Enchanted (69%) vs Ferris Bueller's Day Off (31%)

Battle Royale (45%) vs High School Musical (55%)

Matilda (1996) (60%) vs Chicago (40%)

Round 1 Group H

Mean Girls (54%) vs School of Rock (46%)

The Hitman's Bodyguard (25%) vs Grease (75%)

The Nightmare Before Christmas (51%) vs Parasite (49%)

The Wizard of Oz (46%) vs Star Wars: A New Hope (54%)

Round 1 Group I

Populaire (13%) vs Labyrinth (87%)

Matilda (2022) (17%) vs Kung Fu Panda (83%)

Superman (1978) (44%) vs The Sixth Sense (56%)

The Martian (65%) vs Trainspotting (35%)

Round 1 Group J

Dune (37%) vs Back to the Future (63%)

Phineas and Ferb: Across the 2nd Dimension (44%) vs The Return of the King (56%)

Home Alone (63%) vs Frozen (37%)

Monty Python and the Holy Grail (59%) vs Meet the Robinsons (41%)

Round 1 Group K

Crazy Rich Asians (68%) vs The Phantom of the Opera (2004) (32%)

Alien (75%) vs Mulholland Drive (25%)

The Imitation Game (39%) vs The Simpsons Movie (61%)

Castle of Cagliostro (59%) vs Once Upon a Time in the West (41%)

Round 1 Group L

North by Northwest (22%) vs Arrietty (78%)

Scream (53%) vs War and Peace (1966/1967) (47%)

Arrival (18%) vs The Rocky Horror Picture Show (82%)

Little Shop of Horrors (1986) (55%) vs Night at the Museum (45%)

Round 1 Group M

Steven Universe: The Movie vs Atlantis: The Lost Empire

Everything Everywhere All at Once vs Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan

Rise of the Guardians vs She's the Man

Pacific Rim vs Treasure Planet (2002)

Round 1 Group N

Deadpool vs Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse

Pitch Perfect vs Get Out

The Perks of Being a Wallflower vs Mad Max: Fury Road

Inception vs The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

Round 1 Group O

The Princess Diaries vs Paddington

Pride vs Velvet Goldmine

Shrek 2 vs The Devil Wears Prada

Saw vs But I'm a Cheerleader

Round 1 Group P

Evil Dead 2 vs Nope

Whip It vs I Love You Phillip Morris

Jennifer's Body vs Ginger Snaps

Bodies Bodies Bodies vs The Social Network

Round 1 Group Q

The Mummy (1999) vs The Silence of the Lambs

Fight Club vs The History of Future Folk

Cyrano vs Beetlejuice

Die Hard vs While You Were Sleeping

Round 1 Group R

Cocaine Bear vs Boy Meets Girl

Clue vs Dungeons and Dragons: Honour Among Thieves

Coco vs Wendell & Wild

The Lost Boys vs Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

#bracket #tournament #movies

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maya-tl · 1 year

Text

The western shores of Middle-earth have never been silent.

Where the might of Ulmo and the temper of Ossë his servant meet the white sand of long beaches and weathered-down rock, tumult is bound to brew. Fierce storms beat against the land and biting winds howl through the scattered trees, and even when the sky is fair and the sun bright the lapping waves come in harsh whispers with the tide, breaking the stillness of the air with their song.

The elves of Mithlond bask in the favour of Ulmo, their white ships gliding like swans across the mirror-clear water of the Gulf of Lune, yet further to the south lies the wilderness of untamed land where none wish to dwell, and though the eyes of Ulmo miss nothing so close to the lip of the seas they are often turned away from those beaches.

There, along the foamy waves and crying seagulls, a lone figure walks barefoot across the fine sand, clad in shining white which glows like stars beneath the lowering sun. The Grey Havens are long sunken into the horizon, but the figure walks on, unbothered by the vastness of the unending sea and the wide shore.

Galadriel pauses among a gathering of large stones. A bold wave crashes against their smooth surface, spraying her cloak and dress with cold salt water that clings to the fabric in droplets. She lowers herself on the nearest boulder and tilts her head back towards the warmth of the sun, closing her eyes, and seems then as one carved of rock by impossibly skilled hands.

The sunset casts its red glow over the water and lengthens her shadow, and a trembling chill descends over her skin, seeping through her clothes—yet she moves not until night has properly fallen and the sky comes alive with twinkling starlight.

Gil-Estel rises steadily, its rays piercing through clouds and putting the moonlight to shame, and Galadriel smiles, lifting her hand in greeting.

The night passes slowly but surely. The gulls are long gone and the light of the moon is briefly obscured by a passing cloud that darkens with the promise of rain, but Galadriel knows it will not reach her this night.

Nenya rests heavily on her left ring finger, dead to the world.

It is well past midnight when a light breeze caresses her golden hair, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke and a distant, melancholic murmur that can only be a song.

Galadriel rises and follows her ears, her feet gliding noiselessly over the sand, and soon enough her sharp eyes spot a patch of trees just up ahead, the crowns of their branches reaching up to grab at the stars. She strides towards them and around, and comes upon a well-trodden path weaving through the worn trunks.

The melody drifts languidly from somewhere ahead, wordless but sorrowful and much closer than before.

She follows the path.

Sand turns to dusty earth as she walks and the wood is utterly still around her safe for the song; it is a single voice, melodious and clear and nearly trembling with suppressed Power, and achingly familiar.

At last she stops when the path gives way to a clearing bathed in cloudless moonlight. There is a campfire burning low in the middle and about it are strewn a few objects—an old and faded leather bag, a wooden harp fit for travelling, recently carved, a long sword safely sheathed in a black scabbard, its hilt gleaming ruby-red in the firelight, and a pair of used boots. Galadriel's elven eyes pierce through the shadows of the trees, and there she spots him, far from his belongings.

He is barefoot, wearing nothing but salvaged rags, but an elven cloak drapes over his shoulders, clasped over his heart with a silver pin. He is leaning back against the roots of an aged tree, his eyes closed, and from his mouth flow forth perfectly harmonised notes of misery and solitude that seem to make the stars themselves weep.

There is a wet sheen to his cheeks, as though he has been crying.

Galadriel knows he feels the weight of her gaze on him when his eyes flutter open, and his enchanting voice peters out like a deep sigh, resigned. He looks at the moon first, who shines coldly back at him, before he drags his eyes to her and meets her stare.

It has been two Ages of the world since Galadriel last saw eyes glimmering with Treelight apart from those of her reflection. She sees them now, a pale grey burdened by regret and outlined by dark circles, glorious still with the radiance of Telperion and Laurelin caught within their irises. She sees in her mind's eye a vision of her childhood, at the time of the mingling, a white city upon a green hill bordered with silver and gold.

He is staring through her, not seeing her at all.

"Makalaurë," she says, and her voice breaks the silence like the shattering of glass.

Maglor's eyes sharpen into startling clarity. He beholds her in her white garments, standing tall and proud under a halo of moonlight, her eyes like diamonds and her hair like golden thread, and his face contorts into something not unlike terror.

"Artanis," he breathes, barely above a whisper, as though he has forgotten the weight of her name upon his tongue.

Galadriel stands, unmoving. Maglor holds her gaze like a rabbit caught beneath the hungry eyes of a wolf, unblinking and barely breathing, until she takes pity on him.

"Cousin," she says, "Long has it been since we have spoken, and longer still since the days of old when we walked together beneath the Two Trees in the bliss of Valinor."

Maglor continues to stare, eyes wide and frightened, and Galadriel is almost amused by his cowardice, for in its place was once nothing but snobbish pride.

"Peace, Makalaurë," she says, deliberately slow, and here she smiles, "I am no herald of the Valar come to cast judgement upon you."

Maglor, at last, blinks.

"Artanis," he says once again, and Galadriel sees the fight drain out of him as if it was never there. She sees in him the same tired longing that has taken hold of her, and as the moon shifts she notices that he is pale and gaunt, like a weak shadow.

He is fading, she knows, and she cannot bring herself to feel anything but weariness.

"Come into the light," she says. A command, not a request.

Maglor obeys, rising to his feet and shuffling forward until they are both standing beneath the glittering stars. There is nothing in his face except the acceptance of one who lies under a powerful and inescapable Doom of his own making.

Galadriel cannot muster any vitriol.

"Give me your hands."

Maglor stares at her, uncomprehending, but holds out his hands dutifully. Galadriel clasps them in her own, feels the callouses of time and war on his once-delicate fingers, feels the uneven skin left behind after a severe burn on the palm of his right hand.

Galadriel looks him in the eye and Sees. Maglor's eyes widen, and his hands tremble, but he lets her in, opens his mind like a book so old it has begun to fall apart. She flicks through its pages with an impassive eye and finds nearly nothing but pain and loneliness and cloying, all-consuming regret, until—

There. It is tucked away in a corner, buried under ancient memories and sharp emotions, the blackened remnant of an oath sworn before Eru in a terrible, cruel moment of wrath and grief. It stirs at her approach, stains everything it touches like spilled ink as it reaches for her with outstretched claws darker than the night. It is an ugly thing, a leech on her cousin's mind that has consumed his every waking moment for millennia.

Yet Galadriel is not him, and she is wiser than she has ever been and powerful in her own right. She sees the truth behind Maglor's monstrous nightmare: the Oath of Fëanor is nothing more than a shriveled shade clinging desperately to the misery of the last person alive who still upholds it. It has no strength of its own.

Galadriel suspects it stopped having any strength at all the moment Maglor cast his father's Silmaril into the sea.

She tightens her hold on his hands and floods his mind with brilliant, wondrous light, banishing the shadows and burning their woven webs to ash through the sheer power of her will.

Maglor, who she suspects has long forgotten the touch of another mind against his, lets out a startled cry and falls to his knees before her. He gasps for exactly one breath before he throws his head back and begins to howl, a hoarse and desperate scream.

Galadriel feels the shrill hissing of the oath as the light crashes against it, feels its feeble attempts at fighting back. Feels it crumble under her might like dust in the wind. Feels the very moment when Maglor stops screaming, the bemused silence that overtakes his mind.

And then foreign feelings begin to bloom where once there was only anguish. Apprehension, at first, followed by disbelief, followed by fragile wonder—

Galadriel lets go. She comes back to the steady burning of the campfire and the immovable light of the stars. Maglor is looking up at her as though she is indeed a herald of the Valar who has just bestowed a miracle upon him, and his lips are parted in astonishment and there are fresh tears on his lashes.

Her lips twitch into a smile. She feels no more tired than before. "Rise, cousin," she says.

"How—"

"I did nothing that you could not have done yourself," she answers.

Maglor swallows. "We swore." His voice quivers. "We swore before Manwë and Varda and Ilúvatar himself. How have you the power to break such an oath?"

"I have none," she says patiently, helping him to his feet, "It was broken long ago, when you willingly parted with the jewel you swore to hoard. I have seen it in your mind—what you have clung to all these years was an illusion born of pain, a punishment unto yourself that you chose."

"But—"

"We are forgiven, Makalaurë," Galadriel interrupts him, and continues when he goes quiet, "We were forgiven a long time ago. The way into the West is open to us. The time of the Eldar on these shores is spent, and there is a place for you on the White Ship which will take us home."

Maglor is already shaking his head. "No, it cannot be—the Doom—" He shakes his head harder. "You are mistaken, Artanis. I have elven blood on my hands."

"So do I."

"I have done great evil," Maglor barrels on, "I have slain kin, maidens and children and friends alike. There is no ship for me, and I will find no mercy in the West. The Everlasting Darkness is my only fate."

Galadriel's gaze turns to ice. "You have spent two Ages of the world inflicting this exile upon yourself. No more."

Her voice carries the weight of a great leader, and on her finger Nenya almost seems to glow again.

"Perhaps you are right," she says, to Maglor's visible shock, "And perhaps you are not. You will find it matters little, when I have made my inentions quite clear. You will come with me of your own accord, or I shall drag you bodily to the Havens and tie you to the mast of the ship."

Maglor stares, bewildered. A single tear rolls down to his chin.

"Why?" he rasps, "Why would you offer me this, when we have never been close? You resented us all after Alqualondë, rightfully so. Why now, after all these years?"

Galadriel takes a deep breath. "I have a daughter," she says, once again startling Maglor into silence, "She sailed West many centuries ago. Had I chosen the same path as you, we would have been parted until the remaking of the world, and the pain of losing a child is not something I would wish upon any parent."

She thinks of red curls and dark skin and deliberately projects a vision of an artist's workshop at the heart of Tirion into Maglor's mind.

"Perhaps you deserve this, but your mother does not."

It takes Maglor three stuttering breaths and significantly wetter cheeks to find his voice again. "You are not doing this for my mother's sake alone, Artanis," he says.

Galadriel inclines her head elegantly. "No, I am not," she says, then, "I am weary, Makalaurë. I am weary of partings and loss. The sea calls to me, as I know it does to you, and I long for home. You are the last of my family of old upon this shore and I will not suffer another permanent parting."

"Permanent?"

Galadriel's smile is bittersweet. "Of all my brothers there is at least one I shall not see again, and the same can be said of my cousins." She looks up at the stars in prayer. "My granddaughter has chosen the way of Lúthien and my grandsons are sure to follow. I have lost much, and I am weary, and as long as it is within my power to save someone with whom I share blood I will do it."

Maglor stares, wide-eyed, mouths 'the way of Lúthien' back at her, and Galadriel knows she will have to say it for him to believe it.

"My daughter is wed to Elrond," she says, watching with satisfaction as he chokes on nothing.

"Elrond..." he says, so quietly it could pass as a whisper, and she finally hears the longing in his voice, mingled with disbelief and something almost like pride.

"He has never told me so, but I know that he and I are of the same mind in this," she says, "You raised him, cousin, and you raised him well. You are his blood only distantly, but you are family, and he has missed you all the same."

It is enough for Maglor to break. Galadriel catches him before he can fall and holds him upright as he drops his head in his hands and sobs, shoulders hitching with every painful gasp, and they remain so for what could be hours, Maglor's cries the only noise disturbing the peaceful night.

When his tears are spent he pulls away, wiping at his eyes with the frayed ends of his sleeves. Then he seats himself by the dying fire to coax it gently back to life, making room for her by his side.

"Tell me about your daughter?"

Galadriel smiles, sits down next to him, and does just so. She tells him of everything he has missed since the War of Wrath in great detail, of how the Age of Men crept upon them until their power dwindled and was dispelled at last. She tells him of Celebrimbor's legacy, shows him Nenya, and offers him a delicately embroidered handkerchief when he bursts into tears once more.

She tells him much and leaves out little, and the moon begins its descent into the horizon, the stars winking out one by one until only Gil-Estel remains, burning with white fire as it swerves into the sea.

When dawn begins to lighten the clearing, Galadriel stands. She watches, wordlessly, as Maglor gathers his scattered belongings and puts out the fire, and then turns down the worn path that led her there expecting him to follow.

They emerge onto a fine strip of beach lit by the glare of the rising sun. The waves rise and fall with the wind, golden and red and burnt orange, and the sand beneath their bare feet glistens like gems. Seagulls are already circling above their heads, crying out to them in joyous greeting.

After a moment of walking, Galadriel looks back.

Bathed in the sunrise, Maglor ought to look like a wraith, sickly and half-gone—yet there is colour in his cheeks, and his elven cloak billows in the wind in such a way that it hides his rugged clothing, and his black curls gleam like cut obsidian. His grey eyes are shielded against the light of the sun, but the brilliance of Laurelin still within them rejoices, and his smile is wide and dazzlingly free.

He meets her eyes and inclines his head in gratitude, and that is all Galadriel needs. She holds out his hand. He takes it. The skin of his palm is neither smooth nor soft.

"Come," she says, "Let us go home."

FIN.

#writing #my_writing #silmarillion #the silmarillion #lotr #lord of the rings #fanfiction #fanfic #silm fic #lotr fic #galadriel #maglor #I posted this on Ao3 but it didn't get much attention so...#let's see if I can get some comments here #insanely proud of this one

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echantedtoon · 10 months

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Monster Bride Part 7 Hantengu Bros

(Warnings: The boys are in bad shape, mentions of wounds, blood, Karaku is poisoned, Sekido has a broken leg, Urogi was shot with an arrow, Aizetsu has some wounds, etc.

The song Y/n sings is A Thousand Years Lullaby version by Christina Perri and fenekot - Hush little baby don't you cry (Mockingbird) (Lyrics) although sone words of tge second song has been replaced to better fit the narrative. Link to songs below.

youtube

Enmu is next)

And you froze at what you saw-

R E D.

RED!!

A DEAD BODY.

Wait...

How did you know he was actually dead?

That one thought made you freeze in your tracks instantly. That's right...How did you know for certain that he was dead? You just merely saw him covered in blood. Your head turned back to the bush. He...he could've been hurt and tried reaching your house for help. What if he was laying there suffering?! That thought perked you back up into going back to the bush and cautiously reaching out to slightly pull the branches again. The body was still there unmoving. It...sure LOOKED dead but you couldn't tell in the dark. If he was still alive..you had to help him. You couldn't just leave someone to bleed out. The unmoving form still remained unmoving even as you noisily pushed through the bush and stood right next to the head....It was definitely a man. You could tell by how Large the body was and how muscular the exposed skin was. In the limited moonlight you were able to make out long hair that mostly covered his face and he laid in a position that suggested that he'd collapsed by himself. But the question still remained...Was he still alive?

You hesitated again ...but slowly you reached over to the face laying on its side and touched the long black strands of hair covering his eyes. It was .. surprisingly soft and silky to the touch and you slowly pulled it away from the face to examine it. The right side of a man's face greeted you. You nearly jumped back at what you saw. His right eye was closed obviously either unconscious or dead. Your hand instead went to almost touch his lips and flinched back feeling a weak warm breath blow across your fingertips. You reeled back in shock, hand to your chest, and jumping

HE WAS ALIVE!!

Hands grabbed his right shoulder and HEAVED. Barely moving an inch, but slowly the body turned, and with a thud whoever he was collapsed onto his back. A shocked gasp escaped from your throat upon purple eyes seeing his front body. Oh gods...So much blood. His body was practically DRENCHED in the red color! And you found out why. Mr. Unknown had the front of his blue shirt ripped to pieces to where it was barely hanging on over his shoulders. A large gash across his front from his left shoulder and ending just above his right hip was exposed to you. There was so much blood..How was he even still alive!? You reached out to touch his forehead- But froze as a strong hand snatched you hand.

**************************************************

Warm.

Everything was warm once feeling returned to his body. Which was odd. He was lying on the cold hard ground last he remembered. Logic was of course the first thing to return to him. His thinking was always faster than his reflexes. Then the feeling of his body settled in. Warmth...but incredible aching, throbbing soreness. It throbbed and banged his body. Hmm..So he wasn't dead after all. It was too painful to be heaven and not painful enough to be hell, and too annoying to be purgatory. So he was Still alive but had passed out for a short while. A gasp escaped from the sore dry throat that sent him into bouts of a coughing fit. It caused his chest to hurt so much a whimper escaped from the sore body.

Where was he? Was he home with his brothers? He so wanted nothing more than to hear his father's quivering voice and Sekido angrily yelling at him while forcing him to eat food to get better. Zohakuten telling him how dumb he was. Karaku and Urogi hugging him affectionately.

Blue eyes slowly opened themselves up to the world blinking rapidly at the light and his vision blurred until he could see...A one roomed house? It was mostly empty. A coffee table square in the middle, a picture frame or two holding a painting of someone on the walls, a basket in the corner, a shelf full of dishes and other small items, a fireplace with a fire currently going, and a few other bland things. Nothing that really stood out as anything important to him. But who lived here? Why was he inside? How did he get here? And who touched him?

...A-A woman?!

THE. MOST. BEAUTIFUL. WOMAN. HE. HAD. EVER. SEEN. Was standing there above him looking surprised when he grabbed her hand. Blue eyes stared widely at her.. before the tight hand slowly loosened their grip and he let go of her. She pulled her hand back looking it over before looking back at him and slowly smiling.

"I'm sorry. I guess I must've startled you." She tilted her head at him with a smile. "Good morning. How are you feeling?"

His mouth dropped open but all that came out was a torrent of violent coughing which caused pain to EXPLODE in his chest. His body wracked violently as waves of pain washed over him. A force in the form of two hands slam down onto his shoulders to still his body.

"Easy! Easy! Breath slowly. Slow your inhaled." The gasping from the male under you coughed and sputtered and looked like a drowning fish before he finally was able to lay back mouth open and gulping mouthfuls of air. "There you go. That's it." You slowly pulled your hands away from him. "That should feel better soon. Are you feeling better?"

To your surprise a choke noise escaped from the man's throat and he shook his head no. His blue eyes looked at you. And you couldn't help but stare in awe. They might've been the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen but what was strange was that the sclera and pupil were both blue. Huh. Strange. Was he born with a rare eye coloration or something? The blue eyes weld up in tears water about to spill over before a sob escaped his mouth.

"It hurts," he whimpered in a voice you never heard from a man before, "I f-feel s-s-so..weak."

You instantly felt bad for him. "Yeah. I guess having a wound like yours would hurt but you're ok." You tried to calm him down by smiling and patting his arm. "It's not very deep and you should make a full recovery if you rest up and take care of the wound."

A shaking hand reached up to grab the blanket covering his body and lifted. The blanket shook in his Shaking hold and he could barely lift his head up to peek at his torso, but he saw the clear wrappings around his torso and the snug blankets tucked around his body with care. He stared at your handywork before allowing himself to flop back into place and turn his tearful eyes back on her.

"D-...D-Did you D-Do this-s?"

"If you mean your wounds no. I didn't hurt you but I did find you outside my home and brought you in here." You gestured to his torso. "And I bandaged you as best as I could. The wound is big but the cut wasn't deep and I could treat it easily. Although you're going to be sore and weak for a while. What's your name?"

"A-Aizetsu."

You beamed softly at him which made his face turn a deep shade of red. "Well Aizetsu, my name's Y/n! It's very nice to meet you. But if it's not too much to ask how did you get in my orchard?"

He sniffled before reaching a shaking hand up to wipe at his face. "I-I don't r-r-remember. I w-was-....T-There was a f-fight a-and U-Urogi G-Gotta hit by an arrow a-and he dropped me.." His pupils widened in horrific realization. "I-I fell....I-It hurt.. s-s-so mu-much."

"Hey. You're alright now." He was surprised when something soft pressed against his face making him jump but then blink bewildered as something soft wiped his cheeks.But his eyes widened in shock as he realized that SHE was the one wiping away his cheeks. Humming softly as she shushed him. "There, there. You'll be alright now."

But that raised more concerns. He said he was in a fight? What kind of fight left him like this? If someone else was hurt then why didn't you find anyone else with him? He said whoever it was dropped him. Does that mean someone abandoned him here? That was sick. Would that mean there was a chance of danger coming to your doorstep. And THAT'S what worried you the most.

"You said there were someone hit by an arrow?," he nodded in awe captivated by your beauty and softness as you continued to wipe his face up without complaint. "Does that mean there's someone else hurt outside? Are you alone?" He continued to stare wide eyed at you. "Mr. Aizetsu?"

He jumped blinking at you. "Uh?! Oh! N-No. Noone else. "

"Then are you alone?" You pulled your hands away.

He whined as your hands left him but shook his head. "No. N- Not for long. My brothers w-will come looking for me."

"You have brothers?" He nodded. "That's good. You can stay here until they find you then. Are you hungry? I made some homemade soup and rice, and I'm sure you must be thirsty." Blue eyes perked up at the promise of food and nodded eagerly making you smile. "Then I'll get you some. Just sit tight for a moment."

He watched as your form walked on over to the shelf Gathering bowls and anything else you needed before heading on over to the lit fireplace. A few minutes later you returned with a bowl of delicious smelling stew and tea in hand. He would've sat up to take the drink from you, but blinked as all of a sudden a hand pushed itself under his head and lifted him with extreme gentleness he'd never felt before. As if he was cracked glass and at any moment could shatter. Something warm and herbal smelling wafted over his lips as you cradled his head and held the cup to his lips.

"Here. Drink."

The eyes stared up at yours and how soft your features were... before they glanced at the cup, and slowly opened his mouth. It was enough for you to tilt the cup for him to drink taking great care to not spill any on him. Making sure to also give him breaks between gulps to allow him to breath until it was empty. He'll also need something solid in his stomach. Wiping his face when he finished. He didn't make any moves to stop you from cradling his head and feeding him until he seemed to be full enough and you gently encouraged him to sit back up. You needed to treat his wounds again. He seemed to struggle to sit up by himself so you had to push him up into a sitting position before you could again treat him. He just remained silent and compliant throughout the entire process until he was laying back down and you smiled at him again.

"There you go. You must feel better with something warm in your stomach. "

"Yes," he agreed, "Um...C-Can you tell me how long I've been here?"

"I found you yesterday around sunset and you've slept through most of today. So almost a full day and night. Not too long.''

He hummed again. "Then my brothers are s-surely already on their W-Way here."

You looked confused at him. "How would they know you're here?"

"They'll follow my scent."

"Oh..They have a hunting dog?"

He hummed again fiddling with the blanket. "S-Something like that?

You didn't know what he meant by that but decided not to pry him when he was already hurt. The rest of the day passed by smoothly since Mr. Aizetsu fell back asleep shortly after he ate dinner leaving you to go about business as usual until sunset came back and you see herding your animals back inside their pens. Your cow seemed rather on edge for some reason. Seemingly irritated as you lead her back into the barn, not seeing the figures limping into your house through the front door on the complete other side of your house. You finished putting away your animals before mindless just walking to your back door and stepping inside- ...Huh. Hey. When did the candles go out? And why was the fire so low? Not thinking anything of it, you just closed the door behind you and grabbed a few logs next to the fireplace. Tossing them in and grabbing the poker to prod the small fire into feeding on the new logs and bringing more light into the house. You smiled at the warmth until you heard the shifting of something behind you. You instantly turned smiling assuming Aizetsu had woken up. Only to freeze in horror as the darkness held four looming figures staring at you.

Four pairs of eyes. Red as blood. Green as acid. Yellow as sickness. Blue as sorrow.

All four stared at you from the corner of the room as your jaw dropped open in shock-

"Shit! She came in before we left!" The yellow eyes turned to the red ones. "I told you we should've waited until she fell asleep before grabbing Zetsu!"

"SHUT UP, UROGI!!"

The loud yell made you jump and fall over as you scrambled back against the wall-

"S-Sekido, D-Dont scare her. After all she did save my life."

"THAT'S WHY WE SPARED HER IN THE FIRST PLACE!!"

"W-WHO ARE YOU?!" All four pairs of eyes turned to you as your shaking hand grabbed the poker, holding it in front of you like a makeshift sword at whomever the eyes were. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!"

There was silence as they all stared at you unblinkingly.. before a noise made you jump. A strike of a match lit up as a tiny flame floated towards a lamp hanging from the ceiling and lit it up brightening the house further. And what you saw made you nearly drop the poker. Standing there was four men.

INHUMAN MEN

One had red eyes and leaned heavily on a staff. His left left lifted up and looking not good. One with green eyes slumped against the wall breathing raggedly and smiling despite his condition. One with yellow eyes and...PART BIRD!?!? Your eyes widened in horror more. A HARPY!! A FREAKING H A R P Y WAS STANDING IN YOUR HOME!!! He held Aizetsu in his talons as the blue eyed man looked at you apologetically...only...there was something different about him. Now there was two horns sprouted on his forehead when there wasn't any just moments ago. He stared from the Harpy's arms and-...And-.....

Why did they all look alike?

Aizetsu had the same face as the other three. The only differences were their eye color and the fact that Mr. Red and Green eyes had a long strand of hair running across their face. They all stared at you and you stared at them for a long,long, LONG moment of silence. Nothing but the crackling fire to break the silence. Until Aizetsu spoke.

"Y-Y/n. I-Im sorry. We were supposed to leave before you got back inside."

You didn't speak at first. Only stared at the four of them in utter bewilderment. Scanning over all four of them slowly.... before slowly asking. "What...ARE you all?"

"We're elementals. E-Except for Urogi, obviously."

"Elementals?! ...As in the fae creatures that control aspects of nature!?"

Aizetsu nodded. "Yes. I'm s-s-so sorry for not telling you before-"

"SKIP THE APOLOGIES!!" You jumped when Mr. Red Eyes snapped with a growl. "WE GOT AIZETSU AND THAT'S ALL WE NEEDED!! NOW LET'S GO HOME!!"

"Uh...We can't? Aizetsu can't walk like this," the harpy spoke to red eyes, "And Karaku's still poisoned. What are supposed to do? Carry them both while you hop on one leg?"

"YOU CAN USE YOUR ARMS FOR THEM AND CARRY ME WITH YOUR FEET TALONS AS YOU FLY YOU IDIOT!!"

"I STILL HAVE ARROWS LODGED IN MY WINGS!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CARRY ALL THREE OF YOU LET ALONE FLY?!"

You just... blinked as the two men began to argue and Aizetsu tried and failed to get them to stop bickering. What was happening right now? You still stared as they argued before looking at the green eyed man and was surprised to find him slyly smiling at you. He gave a half lidded look before winking and you deadpanned back at him. Before he suddenly stiffened and shot into a leaned over position. The sounds of wretching followed making all three of his...brothers(???) shut up and look behind them as you paled. Again silence rang supreme. Until the brothers looked at one another awkwardly.. before they slowly looked at you.

You stared blankly. "....Did he just vomit on my floor?"

"Yyyeeeaaah. Sorry about that," Yellow Eyes said slowly looking at you, "He's hasn't been feeling so good since getting jabbed with a poison dart. He'll live but it has to wear off-"

"HE PUKED ALL OVER MY CLEAN FLOOR!", You bellowed catching all four off guard from the sudden RAGE you felt staring at the mess the green eyed man made before pausing seeing the trail of red pooling from your open front door all the way to where the men were standing there. "YOU'RE TRAILING BLOOD?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? I JUST CLEANED MY HOUSE THIS MORNING!!" YOU POINTED AT THE BATHROOM. "ALL OF YOU! GET IN THERE AND WASH YOURSELVES OFF!!"

"WHAT?! AND WHO ARE YOU TO BOSS US AROUND!?", Red eyes snapped back instantly.

"YOU'RE COVERED IN BLOOD AND STILL DRIPPING IT!! AND YOU PUKED ON MY FLOOR!! GO WASH YOURSELVES OFF OR ELSE!!"

"Or else what?" He hissed exposing his fangs growling and narrowing his eyes. "Do you seriously think a girl like you can scare me? I'd like to see you try to make me do anything!"

Your eyes narrowed at him and a large scowl appeared on your face.

**""

"Are you still hungry, Aizetsu?" You smiled at the man's face cradled in your lap as he stared at you.

He gulped nervously face red and pointy ears pinned to his head. "I-Im good," he squeaked out which made you giggle at him.

Last night had been a big whirlwind. Sekido had not expected the iron angry grip on his ear as you dragged his limping, half hopping, cursing form into the bathroom and scared Urogi enough with your irate yelling at him to drag his other two brothers into the bathroom after Sekido. Then with the limited light you had, you cleaned the blood trails and the vomit as you heard arguing and water being splashed about in your bathroom from the brothers irritating you further. It. Took. FOREVER. To properly clean everything up and air out the foul smells of copper and stomach. Don't even get you started on how much you had to wrestle Sekido down and fight him in order to force him to lay down and strap his broken leg in a splint. Which still left you with a few cuts from him wrestling with him. Nothing serious but it still annoyed you to hell and back.

"I'm real sorry about the mess last night, Sweet cheeks." Your head turned deadpanned to the green eyed demon. He was laid next to Aizetsu with a wet towel over his forehead and a clean bucket next to him in case he felt like getting sick again. "Do I get to have some food too?"

Your brow rose. "Is your stomach going to be able to handle it?"

"It's been hours. My stomachs settled and I emptied it out completely. ...I'm kinda hungry to be honest."

You sighed but moved to get him some food too. "Fine. But if you feel like you're about to be sick, you better let me know. You can't take the antidote anyways on an empty stomach."

Karaku lit up as he watched you grab another bowl of soup and come over to position his head the same way you did Aizetsu's. In your lap cradling his head and lifting the bowl to his lips. Last night you had also learnt their names and conditions. The one you currently fed was called Karaku and he'd been shot by a poisonous dart. The poison wasn't enough to kill him, just immobilize him and make him sick but you were familiar with the herb used to make the poison and knew the antidote to it. He'll be fine but it'll take time to get out of his systems completely. Aizetsu still had that obvious wound on his chest that needed to be mended but he'll be ok in time. Urogi, the harpy, was the least hurt. He had a few arrows lodged in his left wing you had to carefully extract and stitch up the small wounds but overall he could walk, talk, and if it wasn't for how close his left wing was held to his back compared to the right one you'd never tell something was wrong with him. Sekido (the only one you had to physically fight-) was the second one mostly ok, but his leg was broken and you had to maneuver it back into place before forcing it into a splint to keep it still enough to heal correctly. He was also the most stubborn of them all. Currently he laid propped up against a wall angrily eating a bowl of soup Urogi had given him earlier. He muttered curses between his at first but had shut up and stared silently when you started treating the others after fighting with him. Especially when you cradled Aizetsu and then Karaku with such gentleness as if they were cracked porcelain cups ready to chip away again. Red eyes blinked slowly as you wiped at Karaku's smirking mouth.

"Are you thirsty? I have some tea."

He gave a purr of content. "Sure. If it means I can get to look at your beautiful face more.~"

You just stared blankly at him more. "Flattery will literally get you no where. I'm still angry with you all for stealing my chicken-"

"Hey! Urogi was the one who stole it for food!"

"I was hungry and it was convienet!" Urogi wisely shut up as you snapped a scowl at him. Awkwardly he shuffled in the blanket wrapped around him. "Um...When can we have our clothes back?"

"Once they're done drying from the wash and I meand them. They were all filthy. Until then the spare clothes I gave you will do."

That was another thing about her. She insisted on taking care of them full despite them being obviously not human and could pose quite a threat. Perhaps her concern or anger clouded her judgement of danger but it...was very strange to him. Eventually she finished up taking care of Karaku and turned back towards Urogi with a frown.

"You're lucky I don't charge you for stealing my hen. They're not exactly cheap to replace! And who just walks on another person's property and steals their animals!?"

"Um...A hungry person?" You scowled harder. "Shutting up now!"

You groaned before just shaking your head. "Are any of you still hungry? I can get you some more."

"I'm fine," Sekido bluntly stated before turning away from you. "You're bothering me too much!"

You frowned further before rolling your eyes and walking away. "Well if you get hungry again let me know and I'll get you all back some more. I'm gonna go outside and see if your clothes are dry. I can nend them afterwards and give them back."

"Do you want some help?"

You looked at Aizetsu. "In your conditions? No. I'll be fine. You just rest up and get better-"

"It shouldn't take long! Our healing process is faster than you humans!", Sekido snapped annoyed.

"Really?...How long will it take all of you to fully heal then?"

"My little cuts should heal by the end of tomorrow," Urogi chirped proudly before looking over his brothers, "Them...I'm not so sure. Maybe a..." His eyes squinted as he thought hard on it. "Week? Maybe two weeks? Can't take longer than that though!" He smiled confidently. "We should be out of your hair before the blood moon."

"Is that really in two weeks?''

You really had lost track of time then. You just hoped that there wouldn't be anymore Fae creatures showing up like this unannounced. You were already having enough trouble wrapping your mind around these four that suddenly dropped in on you unannounced. You didn't need anything else also stopping by.

"Y-Y/n?" Your attention went back to Karaku suddenly waving at you with an upset look on his face. "Uh. Hey Sweetie. Can you get me another set towel for me? I don't...feel too good-"

"THROW UP ON MY FLOOR AGAIN AND I'LL MAKE YOU CLEAN IT!"

*****************************************

It was pretty awkward taking care of four men (Elementals at that) in your home. Mostly because they would NOT. STOP. ARGUING. You managed to get their names down. Urogi and Karaku would often poke jabs at Sekido who would yell back at the two laughing at him and attempt to swing that staff of his at them-... Until you wrestled it away from him and wouldn't give it back.

"GIVE ME BACK MY STAFF!!"

"You can have it back when you all leave! You can't just try to hit them when you're all hurt, Dummy!"

And no the staff was put in the barn with the rest of the farm tools. And this was only the second day they were there. Aizetsu kept profusely apologizing for his brothers' actions even though you assured him it was alright. However the third day was when things started to get ... interesting. Karaku was awfully quiet. Only lying down with his eyes closed other than when he asked for some food or drink from you. You checked him over. He was still sick and he seemed to finally be feeling it. Hopefully his body would heal soon and the medicine would be helpful. But it didn't seem to be anything serious. At least not at that time. You left early right after retreating their conditions and making sure they had something to eat. You'd need to purchase more blankets and bandages for them all. However you were never expecting the storm when you returned almost three hours later.

"S-Sekido...Am I going to die?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE!!!"

A firm hand squeezed onto Karaku's arm like a lifeline, angry viens bunched up as the tense silence hung into the air. Karaku's chest rose and fell in raspy breaths as it hurt to breath. Everything felt too hot, too cold, too- A choked so escaped from his mouth as Aizetsu laid on his side and patted his shoulder.

"It's ok! You're g-g-gonna be ok. Breath. O-Ok?"

"DAMMIT!! WHERE'S UROGI WITH THAT GIRL!?"

No sooner than he said that the front door slammed open and said harpy came jumping in quickly dragging a woman's cursing and angry body behind him.

"WE'RE HERE!" said harpy yanked you over making you stumble and dropped the basket in your hands spilling everything over the floor. "I GOT HER DON'T WORRY!!"

"What the hell is going on here?!", you shouted pulling and yanking at Urogi's iron grip around your arm. "Your brother snatched me up in the middle of the path! He's lucky no one saw him fly-"

Anything else you were going to say died on your tongue as you saw the scene Urogi pushed you towards. It was the three that couldn't move yet. Sekido was sprawled across the floor in an awkward position on Karaku's left side death gripping his arm and glaring at you. It looked like he dragged himself all the way across the home just to lay beside his brother. Aizetsu was painfully sitting up on Karaku's other side where he's always been since you took him in only he looked panicked at you.

"Help him please!," he pleaded panicked voice wavering, "He's having trouble breathing!"

Urogi squawked as you forcing pushed him away and immediately ran over to Karaku. Jumping over Sekido's body and knelt by Karaku's head. A hand immediately plopped itself onto his forehead between his horns. A second hand pressed to his cheek making his blink up his green eyes at you. You stared at him silently.. Before you sighed and moved your hands from him.

"It's the poison isn't it?! He's not gonna die is he? "

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM!?"

"He's running a small fever." Both brothers fell silent and just .. blinked at you as you stood up and crossed your arms. "He'll be fine. I just need to make him some herbal tea. You all are over worrying yourselves."

There was silence as they all looked at one another.

"You mean... He's not gonna die?"

"No. He's not even in any danger." Aizetsu immediately sighed flopping back down to the floor and Sekido mumbled curses under his breath removing his hand from Karaku's arm. "I'll make you all some food while I'm at it... but first I better move you back to bed-"

"IM STAYING RIGHT WHERE IM LAYING!!", Sekido yelled from his awkward laying position.

You didn't feel like arguing with this. "*Sigh* Fine. I'll move your futon over here but I'm looking over your leg first. You might've harmed it crawling over here."

Sekido did not fight you struggling to move him back into position and fixing it where he laid down next to his brothers with his splintered leg propped up with a few pillows. Just pouted and watched you closely with narrowed eyes as you went about making them some food and started handing them out bowls. By now Aizetsu was able to sit up and you didn't need to take care of him but you did still need to help out Karaku whom purred out as you cradled him.

"Y-Y-You're a real angel. You k-know that?"

You rolled your eyes but smiled. "No. I'm more of a devil myself "

For the first time all day, Karaku smiled even as you held up the cup to his lips to drink. "Ooh.~ Even better. Because that's exactly my type.~"

Oh be quiet and drink." He chuckled despite himself and you just pushed the cup into his lips. ...But paused feeling the hair on his head. The long black hair was clean and soft but it was also tangled. They needed that taken cared of too. "Do you think you can sit up if you try?"

Your question caught the man off guard but he shrugged. "I mean I can try but I don't know...Why?"

"Because Im taking care of you. Now come on and try."

Karaku was confused but shrugged and proceeded to try and get himself into a sitting up position. He struggled a bit but you pushed his back and Aizetsu reached over to pull his arm so he was able to sit up. He blinked as you handed him the cup and told him to drink it as you just got up and walked over to the shelf in your house.

"Hey, Sweet cheeks...What are you doing?"

You grabbed something and turned around revealing a brush. "Taking care of you like I said. All four watched as you once again stepped around them all until you were seated behind Karaku and he paused feeling you touch his hair. "So messy.. Can't be healthy for your scalp. Hold still."

Karaku's eyes widened as did. The strategic touch was light and he didn't move as she hummed and just started untangling the unruly mane of black hair cascading down his back. Everyone's surprised eyes were on you as you worked on him and used the brush you had in your possession. Brushing and gently prying apart knots in the black locks until the brush was going through without any resistance. Only then did you stop and smile.

"There. All better."

Karaku didn't say anything. Only reach up a hand in awe at the gentle treatment. You smiled at your work shuffling back to admire it... before your eyes wondered over to Sekido. His hair was in the same tangled mesh Karaku's was. Automatically you just reached over to gently grab the strands but jumped as he snapped his head around to snarl red eyes at you.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Helping you."

"WITH WHAT?!"

"Your hair?" You rose a brow pointing at your own head of hair to clarify. "It's all tangled and I thought the reason we came back here was to take care of you two." You reached out aga- Two hands snapped up to cover the top of his head. "Gyutaro, how am I supposed to help you if you do that? Move your hands."

"NO!! I don't like being touched!!"

"Oh... That's ok. I don't like that either." You held up the comb. "Then you can use this and do it yourself."

"NO!!"

"Then one of your brothers can do it."

"NO!!"

.....You deadpanned. "Not this again. Why must you Always be stubborn? Look just do it."

"NO!!"

"Either you do it or I'll hold you down and do it myself! That's bad for your hair and scalp health!"

"N-"

"Just do it, Sekido!" Karaku said admiring his own hair with a hand. "Quit being a big baby."

"Who's side are you on?!" He yelled at him as you took his distraction to grab one of the loose straggly strands of hair. "I SAID N-"

He froze. Something soft and gentle touched his head which automatically made him freeze. His body instinctively standing on end and a thumb and finger curiously tugged gently at a strand of hair....But no hard metal comb yanked through his scalp. Instead two gentle hands caressed the strands and gently began to weave out the tangled big and small so slowly it didn't even pinch. A hum of a woman's patient voice sneaking through as she worked. The murmurs of a lullaby echoed and gentleness wafted with it. And all of his brothers watched as she hummed.

Silence. Other than the lulling memories of melodies and the soft touch that was left behind.

"Heart. Beats. Fast. Colors and promises. How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid to fall? But watching you stand alone?" You gently pried apart two strands of black hair as Sekido remained still. However his brothers' eyes all widened seeing his face. "But watching you stand alone, all of my doubts suddenly go away some how."

Aizetsu looked down as he watched Sekido's hands grip into the fabric. Urogi fell silent as Sekido didn't make any moves to stop her. And Karaku stared in absolute shock as tears weld up in those red eyes and freely flowed down his face from the gentle treatment.

"One step closer. I have died everyday waiting for you. Darling don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more. " You continued working through the hair which was surprisingly easy to brush through. "Time stands still. Beauty in all she is. I will be brave. I will not let anything anything take away what's right in front of me. Every breath. Every hour has come to this."

Sekido's arms lightly shook as she nearly completed her work and red eyes watery glanced at the shocked brothers. They all looked incredibly shocked at him.

"One step closer. I have died everyday waiting for you. Darling don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more. And all along I believed I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me. I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more."

You finished up Sekido and leaned back to look at your handywork. However he just slammed his eyes shut from view of his brothers and snapped his head away so you didn't have any clue he was even crying. Instead you rose a brow. Jeez. You weren't expecting a thank you but that was a bit rude of him. You looked over at Aizetsu next. The brothers were so busy still staring at Sekido in shock that they didn't see you walk around to sit next to Aizetsu until you touched his hair making him jump and look at you in shock.

"Hush little baby. Don't you cry. Everything's going to be alright. Stiffen up that upper lip little baby. I told you I am here to hold you through the night. I know Mommy's not here right now and we don't know why. We fear what we feel inside."Aizetsu's blue eyes widened to the size of plates as you gently combed through his hair which went through easily. "It may seem crazy, Little Baby. But I promise we're gonna be alright."

You kept going on to finish your job humming all the while to yourself. Unknowingly to you, Sekido wasn't the only one who was now crying. Aizetsu felt himself starting to cry from the gentle treatment and humming the woman gave him. Larg fat tears stung his eyes before flowing down his cheeks and dropping onto his blanketed covered lap. You hummed along until you were finished before standing up and turning to Urogi still frozen there.

"Ok. Now it's your turn." He didn't respond. "Urogi?" He still didn't say anything making you raise a brow confused before looking behind you and looking shocked as Aizetsu cried. "A-Aizetsu!" You immediately went to grab his shoulders. "Are you ok? I wasn't too rough was I? Oh no. Did I bump into your injury?"

He didn't answer for a long, long, LONG MOMENT. Before he slowly looked right right in the eyes.

"A-Are you single?"

You blanked. Staring at him for a bit before you blinked. "...What?"

"Yo-You don't have a-a-any lovers right?," he managed to stutter out catching the attention of the the other three. "Y-Y-You're N-Not engaged t-t-to anyone else...R-Right?"

You just... slowly blinked at him. "....What?"

You jumped as two shaking hands gently grabbed your cheeks. "Y-Y-You're so kind..So beautiful. Can I...PLEASE can I...W-WILL YOU BE MY WIFE!?" He ended up shouting that last bit rather loudly.

Silence rang out as your draw tried to work itself as he still stared watery eyed and cutely into your eyes. "......WHAT?!"

"Aizetsu." All eyes turned to Sekido as he furiously wiped his face before snapping at him. "Correct yourself. She won't be 'YOUR' wife." Aizetsu's face fell before Sekido's eyes turned to your squished cheeked frozen face. "Shell be OUR wife."

"WHAT?!"

"I SECOND THAT MOTION!" Karaku piped up instantly.

"NE THIRD!," Urogi chirped waving an arm around as you went blank.

"Wait...WHAT ARE YOU ALL TALKING ABOUT?!"

"From this day on we're courting you. We're going to provide our wife with anything she needs."

Sekido looked at you seriously and you froze staring at them all. Before slowly realization crawled over you and all you could mutter was three words.

"Screw my life."

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