#the male lead monster lives under my bed

[murasaki-cha]

I'm waiting for my 3 hours to finish so I can unlock a new chapter and I noticed something super cute in the covers!!

In both the novel and manhwa covers where ml is a slime, he has this little handkerchief? wrapped around him like a cape that the fl definitely gave him

And if we look at the second novel cover after a time skip where ml is in human form, he still has it! That's so freaking cute!!!

[mymangamemes]

I feel you, girl

From The Monster Male Lead Living Under My Bed by Yeoroeun and Jihe

[shdo-xplosion]

PART TWO: CLINICAL

☼masterlist☼

01 <-☼-> 03

warnings: 2.4k; captivity, telepathy, restraints, non-con, forced orgasm, fingering, squirting, toys? (more like tools), speculum, ben-wa balls (sort of), insertion, medical play? in the name of research, we call bakugou ‘kat’ for now! (this chapter is hard to tag)

notes: hahahaha um hi. this is gross. and it’s only going to get worse, so prepare yourselves. (˵ᵕ̴᷄ ˶̫ ˶ᵕ̴᷅˵)

tags: @ssplague @makepastanotwar13 @kaidabakugou @kiarathace @kllrkitty @itachiwho @siempre-entre-dos-opciones-blog

let me know if you would (or would not) like to be tagged, but you must have your age somewhere visible on your blog!

You recognize the blond alien immediately. It paces into the room without giving you so much as a glance, just walks straight to the control panel behind you that you’ve yet to get a glimpse of.

“What are you doing?” you ask now that you know they can all understand you. When it still doesn’t acknowledge you, you try again. “Hey!”

This time, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you’re met with an intimidating scarlet gaze.

What?

Your eyebrows raise at the sound of his voice. His mouth didn’t move at all which leads you to believe… “You’re telepathic.” Something that scientists on earth have just barely begun to figure out.

The alien grunts and nods.

Does that mean you can hear me too? you think and are met with another throaty noise of confirmation.

For a few seconds, you’re in awe, fascinated by how advanced they are. Then the implication sets in, and you shut your eyes.

So, you’ll always know what I’m thinking then.

Yes.

Just another leg up that these terrifying creatures have over you and your crew mates. There’s no way out of this. Any plan you may come up with, any plot to escape, they’ll know from the beginning.

Closing your eyes, you look back to the high ceiling as the alien fiddles with the panel. All you hear are little clicks, but then the table beneath you begins to move, the extensions that your legs are bound to spreading apart. On your chest, the tiny massage balls become firmer as they roll over your tits, and when you begin to squirm the straps around your wrists pull tighter.

Fuck. Fuck fuck. What is about to happen to you? What is—

Relax. I’m only here to do research.

“What kind of research?” you ask frantically, your voice too loud as it rings through the room.

I have to see what your body is capable of.

My… ?

Your cunt, it says explicitly, sending shivers down your spine.

You’re so used to tears flooding your waterline that you barely even notice it now.

You whisper between heavy breaths, “are… am I going to…”

This isn’t the impregnation phase, no.

Phase. So there’s a phase. The fact that this is not it brings you minimal relief as the promise of it still hangs over your head.

The creature walks around to the end of the table and waves a tray of some sort over. Telepathy and telekinesis? Or is it something else?

It sits down on a chair you had no idea was even there, then lifts the thin covering off of your legs so that you’re exposed to it.

Wait, wait, you stall, trying to give yourself just a little more time to get mentally prepared. What’s your name?

You wouldn’t be able to say it.

Try me, you insist, chest heaving as you panic.

As expected, the alien makes a noise void of any softness. Ktsk, like someone being strangled.

Okay, you chew on your lip as you think of what to call it. Kat. Kat works. Less like a choke, more like a scream.

Fine.

You feel hands on your knees, travel higher and higher, and again, you stop him. “Hold on!”

He actually sighs in what sounds like exasperation. What?

Are you male or female?

There’s more than just male and female here, he corrects, which makes sense. I am male, though.

You can stop calling him ‘it’ now. It doesn’t humanize him since he isn’t human at all, but it somehow makes him slightly less of a monster, a beast that lives in your closet rather than under your bed.

Without any more questions—any that can be answered anyway—you lay your head back and inhale deeply. There’s nothing you can do to stop him from touching you, so you need to do your best to make peace with it.

He doesn’t trace patterns up your thighs or waste time with gentle touches, just leans between your legs for a closer look. You wince when you feel fingers spread your lips, not because it hurts but because it’s cold.

Body tensing, your hole clenches in front of him, prompting Kat to run the tip of his finger over it. It feels curious, as if he truly has no idea what he’s looking at. Do the female aliens not have anatomy like you?

Kat prods around in a way that would be amusing in any other situation, but no giggles escape you, only shallow breaths.

When he tries to push past your entrance you let out a high-pitched sound of discomfort, ow ow ow, and it makes Kat stop immediately.

What is it?

You can’t just… push something in there dry, you explain. You need some kind of lubricant otherwise it hurts. You’re teaching him for your benefit, keep him from tearing anything.

He switches gears, hesitant and possibly confused. If he’s anything like earth men, he’s too embarrassed to ask for any extra information on the matter.

Feather light touches dance around your hole now, spreading your folds apart again. The first nudge of your clit makes your body jolt in shock, almost impressed that he found it so quickly. You think you can feel him staring at your face, but you refuse to look at him. Your thoughts are already giving too much away.

A pleasure point?

Yeah. No reason to deny it.

Kat touches the bundle of nerves again, like a button at first, but when all it does is make you scrunch up your nose, he begins to flick it instead. Back and forth, back and forth. You feel it begin to swell, becoming more firm, more obvious, the longer he toys with it.

A different kind of pulse between your legs proves that his actions are affecting you, a subtle throb deep in your pussy that makes slick coat your walls.

Lubricant? he thinks.

You hate yourself as you nod. It’s a biological response, your voice of reason reminds you. You don’t like it, but this is natural.

Kat doesn’t say anything else, just dips a fingertip into your hole to gather your arousal, dragging wetness over your folds and slicking your clit with it. His touches become smoother, which makes it feel better, which makes you hate yourself even more. This is sick. Even with your logic you can’t help but believe something is wrong with you if your body is enjoying this.

He is an alien. An alien who almost killed you. Who put a parasite inside of your captain and plans to do the same to you.

I didn’t do anything to your captain, you hear, and you’re about to argue, but before you can think of a comeback, Kat slides a thick finger into your pussy. He presses in slowly, but it only gets deeper and deeper. You hadn’t actually realized how big his hands were.

You can’t place the noise he makes, but you think it might sound… satisfied?

He twists his hand a bit, wiggling the digits inside of you. You understand what he meant by research now. It all seems so clinical. You sort of expect him to pull out a notebook.

Without asking, Kat begins to move, pushing his finger in and out of your body. You bite your lip hard and squeeze your eyes shut. The bindings on you feel so much tighter all of a sudden. You can’t close your legs at all, can’t use your hands to hide yourself. All you can do is let him touch you.

As he fingers you, he brings his other hand up to touch your clit again.

Fuck.

Is that good or bad?

You don’t want to tell him. Don’t want him to know that it does, in fact, feel good. But you can’t deny it. He can hear your thoughts. Even though you don’t confirm it, he knows.

Faster. In and out, the pad of a finger rubbing over your clit. He pushes another inside of you, your hole stretching at the intrusion. A slight burn accompanies it, but at the first downward twitch of your mouth, Kat speeds up on your clit.

The tip of one of his fingers is dragging over your g-spot, and it feels wonderful. Makes a certain pressure build in your pelvis, in your bladder, and as more hot tears fill your eyes, even hotter squirt begins to dribble down your folds.

If Kat is confused by it, he doesn’t make a show of it, just continues the same motions as your legs start to shake. You wonder if he’ll understand the concept of overstimulation. What will happen if he doesn’t?

Helpless, you remember. You’re helpless.

The third finger makes you groan out loud, back arching, and the movement brings to attention the device locked into your chest. Your tits are tender now, nipples hard enough to peek through the see-through tubing. You’re embarrassed at how your body is reacting to him. You can’t remember the last time you were this wet, the last time slick dripped from your cunt in thick strings.

What is he thinking? Has he ever seen something like this before?

No. Your body is different from our females.

How?

He removes his fingers and you swear you almost whimper at the loss.

Smaller. Tighter, he says, and then, softer.

You blink up at the ceiling, not sure how to respond. If humans are smaller, surely you can’t tolerate being pregnant. Probably can’t even tolerate taking one of these alien cocks. It’s a vulgar thought, but it’s still there, and it’s still troubling.

Is that all? Are you finished? you ask. You don’t even care that you haven’t actually cum.

You see the strange, blond spikes of his hair move when he looks up your body to lock eyes.

No. I still some more tests.

A test that involves some kind of speculum, stretching you open open open until you’re breathing through your teeth. He uses something to swipe at your gummy walls, reminds you of getting swabbed at your old physician’s office, only you doubt Kat is screening for cancer or STDs.

Then, still stretched to your limit, he begins touching your clit again. All of your muscles tense, but you can’t actually clench like you’re used to, the tool wedged inside of you preventing any type of contraction despite your body’s want to do just that.

And something about that, that feeling of being pulled so thin, wide open and vulnerable, it makes your eyes roll back. Kat is swiping multiple fingers over your swollen clit, drops of squirt streaming down the tool, the curve of your ass, and the table beneath you. Your spine curves as much as the restraints allow it too, and with a shuddering breath, you hit your climax.

Oh my god, my god, fuck fuck fuck. Normally your cunt would pulse and spasm with every wave of your orgasm, but it can’t, your body trying to force the barrier out of you without success.

When it finally stops, after it feels like it never will, you tremble and gasp and try to ignore the way your vision is dancing with little white dots.

“Okay, that’s… that’s it, right? You got what you wanted?”

Kat slowly slides the speculum from you and places it on the tray next to him, not looking at you as he answers, no.

He examines you again, no tools, just his red eyes and thick fingers. Your pussy is swollen with blood flow, coated with enough slick to dull some sensation, but every tap to your clit makes you whine. This time when he makes you cum, he’s able to see the way your cunt clenches, hole tightening then loosening.

He holds you open, swirling the tip of his finger around your sloppy entrance so that you squirm.

Final test, he thinks, moving to retrieve something else. When he holds three shiny spheres in your line of vision, you shake your head. They have to be two inches in diameter. There’s no way…

I just need to see how much you can handle, he tells you as if that answers all your questions.

Resituating himself between your legs, Kat presses one of the balls against you, slicking it up with your juices before lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing it inside of you.

The stretch actually isn’t bad, not after so much prep. Your muscles are spent and relaxed, covered in viscous arousal.

Using his fingers, Kat pushes the ball as far as he can, hitting the wall of your cervix so that you jerk and cough.

There’s one.

The second is much the same, your pussy greedily sucking in whatever it’s given. With two inside, you feel the weight, how they crowd your insides. Three will be too many. You know that for sure.

But Kat still tries, slipping the last smooth ball inside of you, making the others shift where they’ve settled in your guts. As soon as he moves his finger, that final ball slips right back out, the sensation disturbingly pleasurable.

Kat grunts in disapproval and pushes it back in, trying to get it in a little farther this time.

It’s not gonna… they’re too big.

You hear a little huff when the ball breeches your hole again, rolling onto the table.

Fine. We’ll just try again soon.

Nothing’s gonna change, you tell him. It’s not like my vagina is just gonna grow another couple sizes.

Kat stands up and looks at you, eyebrow cocked, one side of his mouth just barely pulled up.

Don’t worry. I’m sure I can figure out some ways to stretch you out better.

He disposes of his tools then gives the straps around your wrists a little slack. As he starts toward the door you call out loud, “wait! Aren’t you gonna get these things out of me?”

Kat turns then slowly paces over to you. Your eyes go wide when he leans down close enough for you to feel chilled breath on your face.

No. He puts a thumb on your chin, pulling down until your bottom lip reveals your teeth. You watch as his split tongue darts out of his mouth, quick as a flash as he catches one of your tears on it. I wanna see if you can do it by yourself.

But…

I told you already. I need to see what this cunt can do.

Needs to see how much you can take, if you’re strong enough to birth his race.

You already know that you’re not.

2023©️shdo-xplosion. please do not plagiarize or repost my work to any other platforms.

[femsolid]

Every woman, of course, wishes to believe that the man in her life is an exceptional man, a man in a million, and that therefore she is the exceptional woman. But the odds are 99.9 to 0.1 against her (and .1 is probably a high estimate), because almost no man, no matter how gentle, no matter how liberal, could bear to reject the innumerable privileges (operant in very subtle as well as blatant ways in every sphere of his life) of being male, even if it were possible. A friend once wrote to me, "For me, the bottom line now with men is that any man (my brother, too, whom I love dearly) will sell me out if it's a choice between me and patriarchy, me and his male privilege."

- Sonia Johnson

Women feel that, without men, we will be alone and further isolated. We will have no one. We do not see relations with other women as an alternative. Without men, life isn’t worth living. This reveals the extent to which women experience our selves through men’s eyes. The more lost women feel without men, the more we have defined ourselves through our relationships with men and in relation to men.

Having most members of any oppressed group live one-on-one with their oppressors is probably the strongest possible arrangement for ensuring continued psychological enslavement. Whether the adult male is father or husband, the effect is the same: the woman is isolated from other women.

- Dee L. R. Graham

Men are thinking, writing, and creating, because women are pouring their energy into those men; women are not creating culture because they are occupied with love.

- Shulamith Firestone

Heterosexuality stands out as one of the last bastions of patriarchy where the notion of individual choice remains thoroughly unexamined. This leads to curious scenarios such as the phenomenon of feminists who might be critical of the notion of ‘choice’ and ‘agency’ in relation to oppressive systems such as pornography and prostitution, posting pictures of themselves in wedding dresses on social media, and defending their ‘choices’ as a purely private affair.

- Julia Long

Feminism is stifled by women with shifting priorities based on necessary compromises with the men in their lives. This will always create a burden for the woman to choose between her politics and the oppressor class she has an intimate connection to.

- Sustainable Separatist

Women’s magazines place young women’s ability to establish and maintain heterosexual dating relationships at the centre of women’s identities. Rhetoric surrounding the achievement of ‘wedded bliss’ and finding ‘Mr Right’ abounds, with men the ultimate source of ‘women’s fulfilment’.

- Kate Farhall

The whole world wants you to partner up with a man; the handful of us who want liberation don’t threaten your little domestic dream beyond asking you to self-reflect a bit and ponder your priorities. We’re not witches, and we’re not the monster under your bed either. We’re women alive leading fulfilling lives, and we’d love it if more women got to experience it. There’s no non-misogynistic man. Some do a good job of fooling the women around them, but none of them isn’t complicit in women’s oppression. Why do you feel such a need to put your life and your freedom in a man’s hand? Can’t you do things yourself instead of waiting for someone else’s input? At the end of the day it’s not about your feelings. It’s about doing something so things change instead of just waiting passively for men to deign to give us a few rights, it’s about women’s liberation. And that might very well be something you are not interested in, which is your prerogative, but it’s not my case.

- Floatingbook

The most exhilarating experience of my newly-divorced life was the discovery that I could be whole and happy without a man; that the fierce brainwashing to the contrary, which I’d sustained all my life, was not only composed of lies from start to finish, but was a total reversal of the truth: it’s not women who need men, but men who need women.

- Sonia Johnson

I don’t think we need to argue or defend female separatism. We just have to build it. Women who are able to speak against it obviously see no benefit in joining, so they can stay as they are. But they can’t control what we do. They can go on and on about how absolutely dreadful it would be, while we’re already building our houses and planting our gardens and having immense joy at the freedom and life. Separatism proves its points by existing and showing what it really is. Don’t waste energy telling people how stupid they are for fighting you about it, come learn all about berries and sustainable permaculture with us.

- Balkan Radfem

Friends and enemies will be clearly lined up, and the friends will be real friends and the enemies unable to hide behind phony benevolence — nor will we have to toady to them. An end to this constant remaking of ourselves according to what the male ego demands! Let us be ourselves and good riddance to those who are then repulsed by us!

- Dana Densmore

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: gekko x male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: gekko hopes its a simple crush, one that'll pass, but he hasn't had one since the first light, so his expectations for how this will go are skewed. slightly.

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4761

reader knows spanish but doesn't look like he does

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: guess whos back baby

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"You might want to keep your little friends in check." Reyna remarks. She leads a steady pace as she guides Gekko through the halls of what will be his new home away from home, yet the new recruit still has to fight to keep up. "There are quite a few rule-enforcers here."

His eyes wander everywhere, from the mundane tiled floors through which he could see his own reflection to the interesting sign declaring the firing range. He rushes forward to catch up with Reyna, "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, she only nods her head towards one of his buddies. Wingman. "Hey! Dude, put that down!" Then there were "Mosh, Dizzy that is not how you play baseball! And not where you should, either." and finally "Thrash! You little monster, get back here!"

"That is what I mean." Reyna smirks, and Gekko could do nothing but laugh nervously.

"I promise they won't go wandering off, at least not without me."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

At first, he didn't know why Reyna would be so apprehensive; then, when his friends snuck out of his room without permission and caused havoc in the living quarters that led to Brimstone scolding him with a passive-aggressiveness he's never quite witnessed before, he understood. But it wasn't so bad—he kept them under control afterwards, and even then, there was only so much they could do in terms of destruction. He hadn't thought about what else they could do, at least not until he met you.

"Dizzy?"

Where was she? She couldn't have gone far. Well, she could fly, but she did it slowly. How could she have gotten past him so easily?

She's done it before, actually, usually in the mornings, but it was the afternoon now. She usually made her own way back to him too, but it had been to long and Gekko was starting to worry.

"Dizzy!" Gekko opens a door and calls obnoxiously, for he wasn't expecting what he saw before him.

He saw you, and her; and you were sleeping, the both of you. Dizzy slept often when there wasn't much action, and he guesses that you do too, although his loud call disturbs you from your sleep.

You stretch your limbs above your head and roll over to face him, unfortunately knocking Dizzy off the couch.

"Shit, sorry for waking you."

He swoops down to pick Dizzy off her back but you do it before he can. The little critter snuggles into your chest and Gekko swear she can feel the gesture himself as his chest warms.

"Mm, 's all good." You reply, words slurred like you're too lazy or tired to put in the effort to speak.

"You sleep a lot." Why did he say that?

"Do I?" You yawn, "Sometimes the couch is more comfortable than my bed could ever be."

"Maybe it's the feeling that it's different." Gekko suggests. He wonders if he should sit, but where would he? You take up the length of the couch and anywhere would be intrusive. He didn't want to be intrusive but... he also wanted to sit with you. He settles for an arm rest.

"You mean, like novelty?"

"What?"

You snicker, and he feels a warmth spread up to his cheeks, whether shame or something else, he doesn't know. "Nevermind."

Maybe he shouldn't have stuck around in the first place. Gekko sweeps Dizzy from your embrace, missing the disappointment on your face in his haste, and moves to make his quick escape with a swift excuse, "I think that was Reyna calling my name. Right? Yeah, I think so. I'll, uh, see you later."

He's out the door before he can even hear your own goodbye.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Reyna, I need you to make up an excuse for me."

The conversation starter certainly gets Reyna interested. "Harbor needed you?"

"No, I mean, an excuse for why you would call me." At that, she raises an eyebrow. She also glances at Dizzy, who remains in Gekko's arms and not in his bag.

But first came making up an excuse, she cared for him, after all. "Gun training." It's only then that he notices the gun in her hands. Reyna raises a smirk and turns back to the targets, "Why?"

"Well, I..." Gekko grabs a rifle from the rack and decides to shoot along with her, maybe to keep his mind off things. "I don't know, really."

Reyna doesn't prod. Instead, she fixes his stance and continues to shoot.

He tries to focus, to recall everything Reyna's told him before on shooting. He's good at it, maybe not better than Reyna but certainly better than Neon; she relied more on her finger guns, after all, but today he was worse. Thoughts ran rampant through his mind without limit, and it felt like they would spill out from his ears.

He shoots and he misses and he shoots again and he misses again.

"¿Que paso, cariño?" (What happened, dear?)

"No sé." (I don't know.)

He takes a deep breath and steadies his gun on the target's head. You sleep a lot. Why did he say that, instead of anything else?

He shoots and he misses.

"Steady your gun, steel yourself–"

"I know." Gekko interrupts her, "You've said it a million times." He's too frustrated, lost in his mind that he doesn't watch his tone.

"Well, you're not following it today." Reyna's voice is like a dagger. It cuts his thoughts and brings him back to reality.

"Sorry."

She shakes her head, "You're off your game. Do you know why?"

"I'm acting before thinking."

"But now you're thinking too much."

Gekko can only offer a shrug. He only had one possible explanation, and that was it. Reyna sighs, "¿Supongo que es algo sobre tus sentimientos?" How could she tell? Gekko's face becomes the answer, and Reyna can read him easy. "A crush." (I'm guessing it's something about your feelings?)

Gekko's had his fair share of crushes. He knows the telltale signs, he knows the heat on his skin, the sweat, the feeling he can't quite name, how his mouth can't catch up with his thoughts and his face won't seem to cooperate.

He's just not so sure he has one on you. What did he see in you? You were pretty, you were smart, you've saved his ass more than once in missions, you were handsome—could he go on? Yes, yes he could. Okay, he saw it.

Reyna breaks him out of his thoughts, "This is not something I can help you with."

"Why not?" She only raises an eyebrow in return and Gekko remembers who he's talking to. "Yeah, okay."

Normally she would fire back with sass but now she just laughs, "Sage would be better help."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Gekko didn't seek out Sage's help. He didn't need it. This was just a simple crush. It would pass, just like most others. He was just crushing on you because of the–how did you put it?–novelty of it all. You were a new person in his life, a person much cooler than him. He was just adjusting to getting new friends so suddenly.

Now Thrash was gone. For a creature so loud, she made no sound when she snuck out of his bag and or his room.

"Thrash?" She could only have so much energy. Either he'd find her or her globule.

But then—a sound.

"You can't be sneaky anymore," He calls out as he walks, slower now in order to not startle her immediately, "I can hear you~"

As he rounds the corner, he spots her trying to hide behind a plant pot. He could see the top of her head behind the leaves. He walks even slower, makes his footsteps even quieter, and shuts his mouth. He would catch her soon, but only if he was careful. If he wasn't...

...she would run. "No, Thrash, don't go!"

And suddenly there was a chase. Thrash rounded sharp corners swiftly and Gekko followed behind much more sloppily. He held onto the wall's edge to swing himself around it and gain momentum, but she just kept going faster. "You have nowhere to go!"

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Watching the agents in the simulated training room was always good entertainment. Especially since the team took out the fierce nanobomb collab bot together, as now the agents wanted to try facing them on their own again. Doing it together proved it was defeatable; doing it alone would prove they were skilled.

On your end, you would rather save yourself the trouble... and also bet with Yoru along the way, which, really, was a scam.

"Why do I keep betting for the agents if we both know the bot will win?"

Yoru shrugs, "That's a problem for you and your wallet."

You scoff, "You little sl–"

Suddenly, a huge creature falls into your arms. You recognize her immediately as Thrash by the slimy feeling of her underside. You also recognize that she's knocked your mug out of your hands. What a detain! The problem is that mug was not yours, and instead, it was Commander Brim's huge dad mug. Oh, you were in so much trouble.

You brace yourself for the shattering of the porcelain but it never comes. Instead, you find Gekko again. He stands quickly with the mug in his hands and flashes you an apologetic smile.

Begging for attention, Thrash turns over on her back, placing her rough back against your hands instead and chirps as if to plead, and you know just what for. You scratch, scratch, scratch behind her ear, below her chin, and on her slimy stomach. She seems so pleased that she disappears into a globule right in your hands and takes her sticky residue with her.

"I'm so sorry." Gekko takes her immediately and places her in his bag.

"It's okay."

His eyes drag down and he gasps dramatically, "Oh no! I got a huge stain on you!"

You only laugh and reply "It's okay." again. "Although, I do wonder why your little critters are seeking me out."

"I don't know neither..." Gekko admits himself. He scratches the back of his neck, pondering for a second, and you can't help but find it cute.

Your attention is ripped away by the blue edgy man behind you, "It looks like you pissed yourself."

"Oh shut up." You roll your eyes.

Gekko takes the opportunity to leave, but as soon as he steps out the door, as soon as he can't see you anymore, his thoughts decide to be rational, or irrational, as they are only about you. He was down bad.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

The main meeting was over. Gekko was set to join the next mission in Norway, and you were to stay in HQ. Maybe he was a little disappointed that you weren't coming with, but at least you wouldn't be in any danger. He was glad about that, if anything.

Groups divided to talk, really, about anything. That was one of the main things Gekko was surprised about. Everyone talked so freely. The atmosphere felt like one of his big family reunions.

But he wasn't talking to anyone. He was only looking.

You really were so cool. Everyone here was cool but he always seemed to be especially entranced with you. He could stare at you like a painting on the wall, except that was the problem. He could never approach you on his own.

His buddies, however, seemed to have no problem with it. "Dizzy, wait!" He whisper-shouts.

Dizzy ignores him and curls into a ball and rolls your way, a new technique Gekko'd never seen before from her, knocking at your feet until you pick her up. You continue your conversation like it's nothing and mindlessly pet at the critter in your arms. Gekko can do nothing but watch.

He was jealous of his own buddies for being able to approach you so easily, but it was also heartwarming to see you regard them so fondly.

Reyna leans on the wall next to Gekko, letting her heels announce her presence. "Te ves estupido." (You look stupid.)

Gekko's eyebrows scrunch up, "What the fuck, Reyna?"

She only laughs, "Es la verdad." (It's true.)

He scoffs and turns back away from her, and it's only natural his eyes fall on you. "Is it Dizzy you're looking at, or him?"

"Him?"

Reyna continues to read him like an open book. It's the way it says it–him, so softly, like speaking is the first thing on his mind and like staring at you is his only priority–that answers her question.

"For your sake, let's say both."

"Reyna?" Gekko perks up, all shy and timid.

It was interesting to her. "Hm..?"

"Do you know why they stick around him so much?"

Reyna knew what he was talking about, who "they" was and especially who "he" was. It was endearing how he trusted her with these things. But she had already told him before. She wasn't good help with these sorts of things. "You're the critter handler."

"Right..."

"But," She still had a hypothesis, "las mascotas hacen lo que sus dueños les muestran." She sends a wink somewhere ahead and Gekko takes a look, only to find you offering the two of them a smile. He almost melts. Thank God you don't know Spanish. (Pets do what their owners show them.)

"Reyna...¡para de echarle leña al fuego!" He whines. (Stop adding fuel to the fire!)

"Aww," Reyna coos, almost like she's going to pull his cheeks, "no huyas de las oportunidades, cariño." (Don't run from opportunities, dear.)

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Pets do what their owners show them. What did that mean? Dizzy liked to sleep, he supposes so does he. Sometimes Wingman tries to sneak a drink from his boba. The whole bunch of them have a lot of energy, and he knows others see that in him. But why would she bring that up now? I do wonder why they always seek me out... Oh no. They liked you too, which really did confirm he had a crush.

"Ay, diosito, cómo te he provocado..?" Gekko groans, sinking his head further into his pillow. A knock to his door. Thinking it's just Neon, or maybe even Phoenix, he shouts "Come in!" from the bed.

However, instead of an electrically charged or pyrokinetic agent, it's you. "Hi, Gekko."

"Oh!" He straightens up on the bed.

Either his surprise woke them or they sensed your presence; whatever the case, his little buddies wake from their slumber in his discarded globule bag. They pounce on you harmlessly. Thrash climbs up to your shoulder, Dizzy flies atop your head and Wingman hugs your legs. Mosh obediently stays a globule on the table, but he threatens to roll off the edge. You catch him before he can create a pit.

"Hey guys. How are ya?" You push Wingman onto just one of your legs so you can wobble towards his bed, which is of course still quite the task, but you finish it all the same.

You plop yourself down next to him on the bed and, he doesn't notice it but, he scoots closer. "Reyna wanted me to check up on you. Said she was worried."

"..why?" He had a feeling he knew why, but he asks anyway.

"It's almost eleven."

Gekko glances at the alarm clock on his table. "Oh."

"I'll admit," You begin with a small laugh to mask your evident anxiousness, "I was quite worried too."

"I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to apologize all the time, you know." Your growing smile lights one up on his face as well. "Well, let's see, do you have a fever? Did you not get enough sleep last night?"

"No, I–"

Despite him denying it, you press a hand to his cheek, then his forehead. "My, you're burning up."

He pushes your hand away, "It's not what you think."

"Really?" But you bring it back up to monitor the heat on his cheeks.

"I assure you, I'm fine." He nods, taking your hand in his so that you don't continue to raise the temperature on his cheeks in a way you don't even notice. He's never seen you so worried before. Usually, you were so laid back and chill. This was a new side of you he didn't expect, and a part of him felt warmed by the thought that you cared for him so dearly.

"Do I need to tell Brim to take you out of the upcoming mission?" You stress, fighting his hold that keeps you away.

"Really! I'm all good!" He squeezes your hand to reassure you. "You don't have to worry about me."

You huff but nod, "Okay, fine. But if you are bedridden tomorrow, don't say I didn't try."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

He's glad, for once, that one of his buddies doesn't lead him to you. Instead, he finds his way to you on his own, whether for good or for worse. It was just a crush that he wanted to end. But he was prolonging it when he was with you, alone; although, he couldn't just avoid you. He really did want to be around you. It's a dilemma.

"What are you doing here?" It was mid-afternoon. Lunch was over two hours ago and he was sure he saw you there, and not only because his gaze always drifted towards you like a magnet.

"Oh, hey Gekko." Your voice is cheerful as you greet him. "It was meant to be a surprise, but I'm baking cookies... or cupcakes. Can't decide."

"For who?" He curiously asks.

"Celebration for after the mission, so everyone, but I guess... you."

His face quickly lights up with surprise, "Oh." Then a grin makes itself present on his lips. He's trying to hide it, but he can't and you spot it.

You chuckle, and a little shame climbs up his cheeks and surely paints them pink. "You're welcome to help, if you're not actually sick. "

"I told you, I'm not," He shakes his head with a laugh, "and I'd like that."

"What do you like?" You move to maneuver the cabinets much more familiar to you, grabbing flour from the top ones and eggs from the fridge and milk and all. "Between cupcakes and cookies, I mean."

In his growing anxiousness, Wingman sneaks out of his bag. His eyes remain on you, watching your every move. He could definitely mess this up if he wasn't careful. "Cupcakes. More toppings that way."

"You're right."

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Wingman hopping and trying to grab the flour off the counter. "Hey, Wingman..." He warns sternly, "no te atrevas." (don't you dare.)

You push the flour out of the little man's reach and play along, "You mess things up, I'll mess you up!"

Gekko follows your lead. He hasn't really baked anything before, except for the cake boxes at the grocery store. He was... out of his field of expertise. Wingman, too, tries to help, and he has half the mind to put him back in the globule pack but you seemed to be enjoying his presence. It could be worse. Wingman was his only buddy that had actual appendages.

Everything you called for, he reached for. Cinnamon? Vanilla extract? Whatever it was, he looked for it, even if he didn't always know where it was; unless Wingman beats him to it.

Sometimes neither of them could find it, though, which meant you had to go for it yourself. The space between the counters was limiting, hardly enough comfortable space for one person. Maneuvering around each other should've been hard, but you had a simple solution.

You take his hips in your warm hold and pull him gently to the side, then walk past him. It only takes a few seconds. Usually he wouldn't allow himself to be so malleable, nor would he let this pass; but you were you. It got him quite confused but also so enamored. Your touch absolutely brought tingles up his side. It was driving him crazy.

"Three trays." You announce as you close the oven. "Good enough, yeah?"

"..yeah." His eyes trace your figure as you stand up proudly, hands on your hips. You were beautiful. Your smile shined brightly, your eyes crinkled with the same joy, and he couldn't keep his eyes away.

"Gekko?"

You were just lovely.

"Mateo?"

At the use of his actual name, Gekko shakes his trance off. "Yeah?" His voice breaks and he fights the urge to shrink in on himself. He clears his throat, "What did you say?"

"They'll be ready in about twenty minutes, so we've got time for a break."

He nods his head slowly, "Okay. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know, I–oh no." Your face drops suddenly.

He follows your petrified gaze down, down at himself. "What? Oh." His waist was absolutely covered in flour the shape of your handprints that stood out stark white against his lilac tee.

"I am so sorry, Mateo." You place a hand over your mouth, "I–"

He pulls it down before you can cover your lips with inedible flour, "It's okay. Just like that stain on your pants a few days ago, right?"

You laugh, comforted by how quickly he got to consoling you. "Yeah, alright." But you lift your hand to show him one last thing, his fingers stained in flour from holding yours. "Oopsie."

Gekko bursts out laughing, and you laugh along with him.

Wingman hops up and down–for a little guy he jumps real high–to catch your attention. Much to Gekko's dismay, you give it to him.

"Who's such a good little helper? You are, Wingman, right? You are~"

He doesn't know whether to be jealous or happy.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Mateo, hey!"

He loves the way his names roll off your tongue. It feels sweet, like the cupcakes you'd made together, even if he'd promised to hold off and eat them after the mission. You said so perfectly, too, without even the slight hint of an English accent. He loves the smile you send his way too and how cute you look waving at him for attention; but you hadn't gotten his attention, after all. He wasn't listening, too focused on your face.

"Mateo?" You call again.

He clears his throat, right, yeah, you were saying something, "What's up?"

"Good luck." You nod encouragingly. "Not that you'll need it."

"Well, I still appreciate it." He offers a grin, "Thank you. I'll make sure to come back in one piece," He doesn't know where the sudden courage comes from, but he winks and says, "just for you, of course."

You shake your head with a laugh, "You better."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

It was the most beautiful, no, one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen in his life.

The mission went successfully, so there was some extra time for perusing an actually inhabited and not evacuated part of Norway. He had no idea this would be here, this tulip field. Huge rows of different colored flowers shined under the golden hour of the setting sun. The ship was coming soon and he'd have to leave soon, and normally he wouldn't even want to leave, but now he only wished you were here to see this with him.

He snaps a pic and turns around, but not before a thought occurs to him. There were so many... thousands of them. Surely a single pink tulip wouldn't be missed?

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Dios, te amo... te amo tanto." The cupcakes taste so good! They made him want to kiss you right now, so badly, but he knew he couldn't, even with his mind half-drunk off sweetness. (God, I love you. I love you so much.)

You raise a brow and Gekko is so glad you don't know Spanish because it almost looked like you knew what he said. "What does that mean?"

But he's still petrified, "Don't worry about it..."

"It means the cupcakes are great, sort of." Reyna places a hand on Gekko's shoulder as she settles down next to him, a cupcake in her other hand. It's decorated with dark chocolate, which is certainly fitting. "Cuidate, Mateo."

"Right..." Gekko shakes her off.

"How was the mission?" You ask.

"Oh, it went great," He perks up in his seat, "everyone did so well. Harbor's water powers were cool as always and Skye didn't flash anybody! Wingman even got to plant the spike."

"Mateo did a significantly good job." Reyna states, patting his head in an attempt to ruffle his hair up, "He deserves some praise... but he also made some funny mistakes."

"Really? What'd he do?"

Gekko can only sit there and listen to Reyna make fun of him endearingly while you listened to her every word. He chimes in with his own jokes about the situation as a way to lighten his own shame.

"Nuh-uh, Reyna, you know I–"

"Almost tumbled down the steps?" She smirks, "You could've squashed Mosh into a pit."

He groans and hides his face with his hands. His mistakes were bound to run out soon enough, right? No more of listening to this anymore. Except they aren't over yet when Gekko perks back up.

You wrap a comforting arm around Gekko's shoulders and it causes him to stiffen up. You, on the other hand, seem so nonchalant; but he can tell with the way you glance at him that you're nervous too, maybe over him. It's reassuring.

It also means the jokes come piling in, now that he's comfortable.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

The tulip in his hand is red, a deep pigmented red. If he'd have thought about it–or maybe he didn't even know about the language of flowers–he would've googled its meaning. Red tulips are a sign of confession and love, much like roses, but, to him, roses would've been way too romantic. It was just a little crush, after all.

Your friendship was blossoming. He was finally becoming more comfortable around you. What if it went wrong? What if this would mess everything up?

"Mateo?"

It was just a little crush. It could still pass; but Reyna had told him not to let opportunities go to waste, and she always had objective suggestions for him.

He turns to you with a jump, placing the tulip on the hallway table behind him and hiding it with his body. "Hey."

But he didn't have it in him.

"Something wrong?"

"No." He shakes his head, "Everything's fine."

Gekko's buddies had a deep love for you, and, unlike Gekko, they didn't have shame. Wingman pops out of his pack without even alerting him. He made sure to be sneaky and quiet, but Gekko's attention was entirely on you, so he didn't have much to worry about.

Wingman snatches the tulip from the table with a little hop, and the "plop" sound of his feet making contact with the ground again alerts Gekko, but by the time he looks down he's already at your feet.

"Bloop." Wingman holds the flower high.

"Hey, little guy, this for me?" You bring him up with one arm, taking the tulip with the other. "Don't think you got this all on your own. This yours, Mateo?"

"Yeah." He admits.

"Thank you." He watches you attentively, waiting to see a big, drastic reaction. "A red tulip..."

"Listen, I–" He clears his throat, preparing himself only briefly in his mind. "Te quiero, tanto y no tengo ni la primera idea como decirtelo, pero sí puedo decir que tu eres increible y tan, tan bonito. Soy tan estupido que te lo estoy diciendo en español y tu no sabes lo que estoy diciendo y sera muy dificil decirtelo otra vez en ingles. Mierda." The words fall out his mouth like tumbling dominos. (I like you, so much, and I have no idea how to tell you, but I can tell you that you are incredible and so so beautiful. I am so stupid that I'm telling you this in Spanish and you don't know what I'm saying and it'll be so hard to tell you in English. Shit.)

"Increible, ha?" You snicker, shaking your head, "Quiero que sepas que te encuentro muy bonito tambien." (Incredible, huh? I want you to know that I find you very beautiful too.)

What? "Tu sabes español?!" (You know Spanish?!)

"Sí, amor." (Yes, love.)

"Dios santisimo..." Gekko could melt into a puddle right then and there. He covers his face with his hand and breathes out a sigh, but it's one of relief. (God...)

"Ah, y," You begin, placing Wingman down and cupping his cheek, in the process moving his hand away from his beautiful face. "te quiero tambien." (Oh, and, I like you too.)

Maybe he rushes, but he can't hold back with the warmth your hand brings to his face. He kisses you, and even if it was rushing, you kiss him back. It's nothing and everything like he's imagined at the same time and he can't have enough.

Thank you, Wingman.

[auro-cyanide]

My reading list

✅ ⭐Not your typical reincarnation story

✅ The tyrant wants to be good

✅ The remarried empress

✅ From a knight to a lady

✅ Divorcing my tyrant husband

✅ ⭐ Men of the harem

✅ ⭐ My in-laws are obsessed with me

✅ ⭐ Philomel the fake

✅ ⭐ Forget my husband, I'll go make money

✅ Post possession damage control

✅ I adopted a villainous dad

⬜ Mother's contract marriage

⬜ Solitary lady

✅ Secret lady

✅ ⭐ Being raised by villains

✅ Kill the villainess

✅ ⭐ I shall master this family

✅ The archduke's adopted saint

✅ ⭐ Villains are destined to die

✅ ⭐ Not-sew-wicked stepmom

✅ Catherine's key to a happy life

✅ ⭐ How to win my husband over

⬜ Ennead

⬜ The golden forest

⬜ The fantasie of a step mother

⬜ My secretly hot husband

⬜ To be you, even just for a day

✅ Concubine walkthrough

✅ Trash of the count's family

✅ The villainess reverses the hourglass

⬜ The reason Raeliana went to the duke's mansion

✅ ⭐ Carrier Falcon Princess

✅ ⭐ Who made me a princess

✅ Just the male lead's friend

✅ ⭐ The villainess's stationary shop

✅ The villainess's blind date is too perfect

✅ Marriage of Convenience

✅ The villainess flips the script

✅ The perks of being a villainess

✅ I listened to my husband and brought in a lover

✅ I just want my happy ending

✅ ⭐ I think I've been possessed somewhere

✅ How to hide the emperor's child

✅ The grand duke's fox princess

✅ I am the real one

✅ You are obsessing over the wrong person, lord of the tower

✅ ⭐ An extra stole the male leads

✅ ⭐ How to survive as a maid in a horror game

✅ The monster male lead living under my bed

✅ My villainous family won't let me be

✅ ⭐ Adopted by a murderous duke family

✅ The reason for the twin lady's disguise

✅ ⭐ Raising my fiance with money

✅ The Villainess is a marionette

✅ Seducing the monster duke

✅ ⭐ Baroness goes on strike

✅ The villainess captured the grand duke

✅ Baby prisoner of the winter castle

Stopped reading for now

🔳 Lady chef royale

🔳 The price of a broken engagement

🔳 The beloved fake saint

🔳 I don't need a proposal

🔳 Siella's revenge affair

🔳 Crowing a spoiled prince

🔳 The first night with the duke

🔳 Tricked into becoming the heroine's stepmother

🔳 I thought my time was up

🔳 My three tyrant brothers

🔳 My husband changes every night

🔳 I created a harem by accident

🔳 I will divorce the female lead's older brother

🔳 Lady Adelyn the homebody

🔳 I'm the queen in this life

🔳 The beloved fake saint

[nihilisticlinguistics]

can't remember where i saw the post reccing Juniper and Thorn by Ava Reid, but they were so right.

Juniper and Thorn is set in the fantasy Russia-esque city of Oblya, in the midst of change as it industrializes and draws in immigrant populations. The protagonist, Marlinchen, is the youngest daughter of the last wizard in Oblya, a man cursed to be dissatisfied with everything in his life.

It's very tightly written -- I could tell within the first few pages that this was a book to pay close attention to. Elements introduced in the first few chapters remained relevant throughout, from the beauty of the eldest sister Undine to the spiny-tailed monster under Marlinchen's bed.

Like a good Grimm fairy tale, Juniper and Thorn uses the fantastic to underscore the real. Marlinchen doesn't just live under her abusive father's thumb; she lives under his abusive, magical thumb, with all the power he can wield to control her life. His curse drives the central conflicts of the story, feeding into his consuming hunger, his relentless desire for money, his anger at his daughters, his anger with the changing world that no longer respects his magical gifts.

Juniper and Thorn contains a romance that I would compare, if anything, to the fairy-tale, Cinderella-esque story of escaping family abuse coupled with the realism that shines through the entire novel. Sevastyan, the male romantic lead, is the youngest principal dancer in the local ballet company, but he's also an ethnic minority (if Oblya is "fantasy Russia," the Yehuli people can be read as "fantasy Jewish") in an unfamiliar city and victim to abuses of a different kind. He's drawn to Marlinchen for reasons that similarly thread the line between fantasy and realism, and he's both an archetype to her (emphasized by his heroic role in the ballet) and just a hurt, lonely man who likes her.

Anyone with a close familiarity with stories is likely to be able to guess the twist, if you're paying attention, but it's a credit to Reid that even after I figured out what was coming, enough story elements were left open that I was never quite sure how it was happening until I was almost upon the reveal. When the last piece clicked into place, I actually said aloud, "Oh, there it is!" It was such a delight, like being led blindfolded by the hand and being able to trust my guide to deliver me through the woods.

Reid's world-building also stands out. It lands in perfect synchrony with the plot; the industrialization of Oblya caused Marlinchen's father to lose his standing as a great wizard, keeps their situation on the verge of poverty, and brings the temptations of the outside world that put the daughters in conflict with their wizard father. Juniper and Thorn spends only just enough time on the worldbuilding to paint a vivid portrait of local life and imply the scope of the world beyond Oblya's gridiron streets. Reid neatly avoids the temptation to over-design her world with more details than the story can use; the entire tale occurs in Oblya, so she sticks close to Oblya, to great effect.

If there's any quibble I have with Juniper and Thorn, it's in the overuse of simile in the early chapters. It's clearly meant to establish the gothic atmosphere, with striking metaphor that calls up gory or spooky symbols, but early on it seems that every other line contains such a line. While each simile and metaphor has the intended effect, taken all together they can feel over-saturated and lose their impact. This issue lightens up as the story continues, and eventually these similes become more clearly defined as part of Marlinchen's own grim and violent thoughts.

A few warnings, however; if you're sensitive to depictions of sex, gore, sexual assault, or abuse, this book may not be for you. All four appear throughout this book, and while the depictions vary in explicitness and intensity, Reid doesn't shy away from their effect on Marlinchen's psyche.

All in all, an excellent adult fantasy fairy tale! I would highly recommend this book to fans of dark fiction, especially dark fantasy, and those seeking a fairy tale with more bite.

[colderdrafts]

13: Home safe

The Great Assembly, gender neutral reader x monster (male naga). Sfw. Previous Next

Elise lives alone in a regular sized house in the outskirts of town. It's an older brick building with a matted roof, and connected to a large unkempt garden - many things grow here, but it's clear to see Elise doesn't bother much with controlling where it grows.

The interior is a different story, however. It reminds you of a cozy farmhouse a nuclear family would visit to 'get away from it all'. Lots of earth colors, old furniture and cupboards, and a large heap of plants in every room. From the entrance is a road to the kitchen and living room, and a bathroom behind the staircase. Upstairs is another hallway, leading into three separate smaller rooms; Elise's bedroom, a guest room and a home office.

"Sometimes my brother stays over for a few days, so I put up a space for him," Elise explains while you unload your things.

You've been given the guest room, where there's an actual bed, seeing as Amren is just as comfortable on his coils, so he'll take the office.

"Pardon the mattress is a bit stiff, the wierdo likes sleeping like it's on a rock," she chuckles.

"It'll be fine," you assure her. Though when you sit down you realize she wasn't exaggerating. How a mattress can just promptly refuse to give in to you putting weight on it is something you'll have to file under 'troll things' in your mind.

Elise leaves you to get some dinner started, and you settle in. You sit back down on the brick mattress, and breathe out slowly, trying to get all the tension and dull aching in your battered body to settle for a bit. Just a little moment of calm. You’re safe.

It doesn’t work very well.

You grimace, and pull out Irwin's phone. Poor thing has run out of power. Not that you would have much use for it now, though something about letting his phone die rings an illogical guilt deep in your core. You couldn't take care of him, and now you can't even take care of his phone?

There's a knock on the door, and you welcome the distraction, getting into a sitting position. It's Amren.

"Elise says dinners ready in about an hour," he announces as he enters, but then frowns. “..Is that Irwin’s phone?”

“Yep,” you reply.

“You did not hand it to the police?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

He suddenly looks very tired. “Tiny, you’re not considering trying to find Irwin on your own, are you?”

Are you?

You can’t stop worrying, and for good reason. He’s missing, and you didn’t even feel comfortable collaborating with the people who are supposed to find him. What options does he have, then? You look up at Amren. “I don’t know,” you repeat.

He flicks his tongue and sighs, looking like he's trying very hard to keep from reprimanding you. He enters fully and closes the door behind him, settling in front of you. “Did what the Officer said make you think to keep it?”

You're honestly surprised at the very patient tone he's using right now. You'd expected he'd at least tell you how dumb the decision was, quip at you or something. Right now he just focuses on you and patiently waits for you to speak - it's almost like he's done this before.

Oh, right. He's a security guard. He's using his training to deal with this conversation on legality matters.

You elaborate as best as you can what you felt when talking to the Officer, going over again how something in the conversation didn’t add up. He heard it himself, but it seems he wants the full version. Amren listens intently, but he’s difficult to read.

“You realize this might make it harder for them to do their jobs and find him?” he asks.

“I do. I still don’t trust them.”

To your surprise, he just nods. “You mistrust is not entirely unfounded. What happened is.. odd. I don't necessarily agree with the decision, but until we know for sure, perhaps you should hold on to it."

"I know it's dumb, but I can't just hand it over not knowing what I'm giving to who," you frown. "It feels like taking one of Irwin's chances away."

He studies you for a beat. "Let me know if you change your mind."

He uncoils himself again, and goes for the door. He looks back over at you with his hand on the doorknob, nodding at the phone in your hands. "Don't leave that thing in plain sight all the time, Tiny. It'll just make it worse."

With that, he silently leaves and closes the door behind him.

"Thanks for the pep-talk," you mutter under your breath.

An hour to spare gives you time to shower and get some clean clothes on. Amren helps you re-wrap fresh bandages at the dinner table while Elise sets it.

"Thank the stars," Elise comments. "It was bad enough to have one snake stinking up the place, we didn't need two."

"Two?" you ask. "What are you talking about?"

Elise looks at you for a beat then her eyes widen. "Right! Sorry. Yeah, you reeked of Amren a bit ago. It's gone now, thankfully. You must have huddled pretty close to the fire for that level'o stank, tho."

You try not to get too offended at the prospect that you've apparently been stinking up the place, chasing away any slight embarrassment as you know exactly how that might have happened.

Amren scoffs and butts in before you can say anything.

"May I remind you I did not come here at my own volition? You dragged me here. It's your own fault it smells like me in here now." He carefully secures the bandage with claspers on your arm, sideeying her. "And you're not the best smelling individual yourself, Elise."

Elise stares at him for a beat before she splutters and laughs. "No need to get on the offensive big guy, just an observation!" she holds up her palms in a placating gesture, but her face shows only amusement. "Horse crackers, what are you so on the fence about?"

"What do you mean I 'Reek'?" you ask, halting Amren's retort.

He glares warningly at Elise, and then turns his attention to you. "I must have rubbed off on you while we were out and about," he replies. "It happens."

"Especially when it's put there on purpose," Elise trails off, nodding sagely.

Amren finishes securing the last of your bandage, ignoring her. He gently rotates your arm to check his work before he releases you, satisfied. "Done."

"Thanks," you say, expertly moving on to change the topic. "Is it a general thing with smelling each other all the time for you guys? In that case, pardon the forest don't really offer much in terms of bathing."

"Ah, no no, don't you worry, regular hum stink ain’t so bad, kinda tame honestly," Elise says, and hesitates before continuing, "all those perfumes you insist on wearing however, they're terrible. All of them. No offense."

She starts setting plates on the table. You get up to help her, but she shoots you a stern look that roots you back to your seat wordlessly.

Amren nods in agreement. "I cannot figure you out with them. It's like they're cloaking you from my senses, I can't tell what's going on with you when you wear them," he flicks his tongue as if to underline the fact.

"Perfume? Really? You prefer we go around stinking of sweat?"

"Yes," Amren says flatly, "though the neutral soaps you use are an adequate alternative. A bit off putting at first, but a few hours later you're back at a tolerable level."

You snort. You're not unfamiliar with the whole social stigma on how to smell nice with a wide variety of opinions, however with stronger sense you suppose it makes sense to dislike the stronger smells of perfume.

"Do all mons feel like that, and you've just been too polite to tell us?" you ask, somewhat amused.

"Nah, not all of us. For example, some fae love that stuff. The more you can smell like a bottle of concentrated flower-incense the better," Elise chuckles, setting a big steaming pot on the table, while Amren moves some plates out of the way, "I remember shortly after the Assembly, mons with stronger senses shared that annoying 'Hum Perfum''-thing. It was both funny and stupid. Perfume was obviously important to a lotta hums, so the meme quickly died down and we learned to deal."

Elise begins pouring a gracious amount of a hearty looking vegetable stew up on two plates, and sets them to herself and you. Your mouth waters at the sight of food that hasn't come out of a can. She then fishes out a separate smaller pot and dumps the contents on a plate for Amren. It's a healthy serving of some kind of deboned cooked meat, though it smells delicious.

"You didn't have to bother removing the bones, I can digest them just fine," Amren says.

"That's his way of saying 'thank you'," Elise winks at you, "my pleasure, Mr. Grumpy."

She grins, effectively bringing Amren's neutral expression back into a scowl.

Dinner is delicious, and you have a pleasant time chatting mostly with Elise. The flow of conversations comes pretty easy in her company, and though you're still tired, it's nice to have a distraction. Elise was right in affirming you needing company after this, your isolated apartment would just have let you sit and mull over your thoughts, worried. The down-to-earth atmosphere, the rustic vibes and your two current co-habitors provides you a sense of safety you would never have gotten at home.

Elise hurriedly sends you off to bed afterwards, though, refusing your argument that you should at least help with the dishes. You foolishly look to Amren for support, and he flat out tells you you look terrible and should sleep.

So here you are in the dark, trying to settle in on the stiff mattress, yet not being able to sleep. Fleeting images of the past nights events still intrude in your mind, bone crunching, snapping teeth, red eyes chasing you through the dark - you shudder under the covers. It's like your body doesn't want to rest, that it shouldn't. What if something happens while you're under?

You hear movement outside, and it seems Elise and Amren have finished downstairs. You get a tidbit of their conversation as they approach the foot of the stairs;

"-not sure how they just forgave me that easily. I feel so guilty," comes Elise's voice.

"Elise, even you should know that that doesn't make any sense. Why are you wasting energy on something you can't fix?" Amren says.

Elise growls in annoyance. "Because of exactly that, you insensitive slab of rocks. I can't fix it, and it's tearing me apart."

There's silence for a bit.

"..I see," Amren mutters.

Elise huffs. "Anyway. It's nice to finally see you break out of your shell a little bit," she says, changing the topic. "You're a lot different here than at the company."

"I'm at work at the company. Of course it's different," he replies. "And I wouldn't say it's as much me 'breaking out' as the hum trying to shatter me with a hammer."

Elise snickers. "Well, it worked, didn't it?" he doesn't reply, so she continues. "Genuinely apologizing? Getting defensive on their behalf? It's been barely a week and you're already a changed person."

He grumbles unintelligibly under his breath so you can't make it out, but whatever it was makes Elise stifle a spluttering laugh, mindful not to 'wake' you.

Elise says goodnight, Amren growls something, and you hear two doors opening and closing in the hallway. You lie silently in the dark with a sort of odd feeling.

About two days pass at Elise's house like this. There's not much to do out here, but the calmness of the area helps you clear your mind of the past days' troubles and focusing on healing. Mrs. Hansen has, true to her word, sent out a widespread notice for all workers that the company will remained closed until further notice while the investigation is undergoing. There are still no news of Irwin's whereabouts, and the constant gnawing worry in your stomach never really goes away.

You have come to loathe sitting still inside the house, so you distract yourself by spending most of your time in Elise's garden, wandering the paths through years of overgrowth. Despite the haphazard distribution of branches and leaves, it's rather peaceful. Your arm still aches from time to time, but it's healing nicely and the pain is at tolerable levels.

Elise spends most of her time tending to smaller projects around the house, and Amren occupies himself either wandering around the area or reading coiled up in a corner of the veranda. You've noticed despite what he sets out to do, he is somewhat always within earshot of you, like he’s scared a harpy will swing by a pluck you off the ground.

Your evenings are spent with board games and idle conversation, and the small reprieve is welcome in your current situation - but you can't truly feel at ease when you're still worried for your friend. It feels almost shameful to just hide away in an idyllic house while he's somewhere out there in danger.

Once again your nights are restless, the images of horrifying memories wont leave you alone. They’re clawing into your mind as if just daring you to try and forget them. Irwin's drunken promise rings through your head, clear as day; "I would do. Anything for you".

You wake up more than one time in a cold sweat, breathing hard to still your rampaging thoughts, murmuring of guilt, fear and worst of all, anticipation. The lack of answers and the lack of news on the situation keeps in a constant loop of anxiety - worry for Irwin, and for yourself.

You can't stay hidden here forever. But what happens when you finally go back to your own apartment?

"They're looking for someone just like you" Mira's honey sweet voice echoes in your mind, both a promise and a threat. It makes you shiver.

Who is? And why? Are they the same people who took Irwin?

Sighing, you haul yourself out of bed yet again. Maybe getting some water would help calm you down.

On the way out you pass by Irwin's phone laying on the desk and hesitate for a moment. You've been avoiding approaching it for a while now, not really ready to face what's happened - but Irwin is trapped somewhere on the other side of your hesitation, and you once again reprimand yourself for allowing him to wait. Maybe fiddling with it isn't the best idea in your current state of being, but if there's any inkling of answers or closure..

You grab it and start rummaging around your backpack for a charger - but when you fail to find it feeling around, you give in to tired impatience and simply dump the contents on the floor. Rested you can deal with the outcome.

You still don't spot your charger, but you do spot something else in the dark.

A small green leaf is sticking out from under your spare pair of shorts that is now unceremoniously lying on the floor. Your first thought is it's perhaps a leafy hitchhiker you somehow managed to pick up from the forest, and go to pick it off of your clothes - though its stem is golden, it has four petite leaves and it is completely intact despite its haphazard journey as a stowaway in your backpack.

You're holding one of the two golden clovers.

[toquegirl]

Webtoon list

For me to return to when my practicum is done and have have free time to keep up to date!

이번 생은 빌런이다 (39)

Be the actor (68)

I'm being raised by villains (49)

Perfect surgeon (93)

Real man (171)

1st year max level manager (105)

Please don't come to the villainess' stationery store (62)

The villainess flips the script (78)

The world's best engineer (119)

The 31st piece overturns the board (43)

Love class (39)

I'll be the matriarch in this life (132)

Clever cleaning life (60)

The extra is too strong (42)

My villain family is against my independence (18)

Age of arrogance (25)

A master who woke up as a concubine (26)

The abandoned bachelorette enjoys her simple life (29)

Reforming my regretful husband (23)

I married the male lead's dad (104)

Genius of unique lineage (50)

Reincarnation of the suicidal battle god (96)

The time of the terminally ill extra (54)

My daughter is the final boss (96)

I became the wife of the male lead (91)

The gangster baby of the duke's family (35)

The invincible princess is bored again today (62)

I became the wife of the male lead (92)

The villainess is shy in receiving love (45)

Death is the only ending for the villainess (134)

The villainess doesn't need a new husband (20)

True education (125)

I became the villain's mother (93)

My rich husband spoils me rotten (63)

10 ways to get rejected by the tyrant (27)

The reincarnated assassin is a genius swordsman (32)

My family is obsessed with me (63)

That fishery, I'll take it (18)

I'm only a stepmother, but my daughter is just so cute (110)

Father, I don't want to get married (123)

The goal is to become a gold spoon so I need to be completely invulnerable (51)

The villainess is a marionette (80)

The fake saintess wants to leave (15)

The maid with a dictator on a leash (23)

My life as a captive maid (28)

Couple breaker (45)

I thought it a common possession (46)

The main male character's nephew really likes me (43)

I raised a boy kindly but he returned as an obsessed man (37)

How to prey on the master (82)

I became the tyrant's secretary (75)

This life starts as a child actor (23)

The hero went crazy even though I'm the one who died (34)

Tyrant wants a better life (54)

Even though I'm a side character, I'm being adored by an overprotective duke (28)

I adopted a villainess dad (45)

I raised Cinderella preciously (106)

I created a harem to avoid the male lead (19)

I tamed a tyrant and ran away (97)

I'm in trouble because my husband is so cute (70)

The gangster baby of the duke's family (24)

I plan to divorce my villain husband but we have a child (76)

Divorce plan with husband failed (66)

Archduke's gorgeous wedding was a fraud (33)

I've become a true villainess (52)

For the happy ending of the tragic novel (39)

1st year max level manager

Starting from today, I'm a princess? (101)

Everything was a mistake (118)

Trophy husband (43)

I saw the future with the killer grand duke (25)

The male lead monster lives under my bed (37)

The duke's daughter is going on strike (28)

I became the tyrants servant (25)

Your majesty, please stop now (14)

The villainess debuts gorgeously (41)

Why are you obsessed with your fake wife? (17)

I raised my younger sister beautifully (43)

A tipsy marriage proposal for the emperor (33)

How to get my husband on my side (91)

I tamed the male lead who tried to kill me (42)

He's now healthy - perhaps too much (29)

The most powerful characters in the world as crazy about me (93)

becoming the villain's family (46)

[txemptress]

Sistah!!!

You NEED TO READ "The male lead monster lives under my bed"

IT'S SO CUTE.

LIKE THE STORY SETTING IS DARK

BUT THE MALE LEAD IS FRICKING CUTE

LIKE HE IS THE BEST MALE LEAD I HAVE EVER SEEN

HE PROTECTS OUR FEMALE EVEN IN HIS MOST VULNERABLE FORM

AND HE IS A SLIME

A VERY VERY VERY CUTE SLIME

LIKE THE SLIME WANTS TO MARRY OUR FL AND IT'S THE CUTEST SCENE EVER!!!

YOU NEES TO READ IT NOW!!

AKSJSJAKA@@@JA))IT'S SO CUTE

AGSIA"ĢJAJAH

LIKE IN CHAPTER 17-18 THE FL'S BROTHER ASKS THE SLIME THAT FL'S BROTHER WILL LET THE SLIME MARRY FL ONLY IF THERE IS DIRT IN HIS EYES

AND THE MALE LEAD VERY CUTELY TRIES TO TAKE DIRT FROM THE FL'S BROTHER TO PUT IT HIS EYES OMG😭😭😭😭😭😭

AND THEN FL'S BROTHER SAYS THAT THE MALE LEAD, A SLIME IS TOO SOFT TO MARRY HIS SISTER!

SO THE MALE LEAD TURNS INTO A BOX SHAPE TO SHOW THAT SHE IS STRONG OMGOMGPMG😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

why does this sound like the most adorable manhwa??

I'll read it after I finish the current one I'm reading!

Thank you for the recommendation :3

[brittklein18]

The Monster Male Lead Lives Under My Bed #Manhua #child #CRTaP #cute C...

[murasaki-cha]

Not Valentine unintentionally teaching Lime (who also happens to be his sister's fiance Grand Duke Ruslan) how to be the perfect husband for his sister🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[starfleet-jelly]

Some Vulcan Headcanons

They have like no base in canon just things I thought about Vulcans most of them don’t have evidence either. Most of my Vulcan fanfics will probably be based off these headcanons, I’ll be adding and editing this post whenever I feel differently or think of new things~ 💕

* Vulcans can outrun humans with speed, however humans can outrun Vulcans by distance.

* Vulcans are better climbers

* Vulcans have death grips. Once they have you, it’s gonna be difficult to get away.

* They have slightly longer fingers, better for climbing!

* Vulcans can’t jump as high as a human can, however, it isn’t by much, a couple inches at most.

* Vulcans eat a lot more than they are shown. Even though they have slow metabolisms they have dense muscles that need lots of protein, luckily there are lots of high protein grains and vegetables on Vulcan.

* Ancient Vulcans were cave dwellers. The caves provided protections of predators and kept them cooler in the extreme heat of Vulcan.

* Due to the fact that the seas are small and in few numbers on Vulcan, most Vulcans cannot swim, however, in coastal towns, more of them have the knowledge on how to swim, but it seems most Vulcans still prefer to not to go for a dip. There is always the odd duck who loves to swim though.

* Before sonic showers, Vulcan use small bucks of water with a rag, or more commonly sand to bathe with

* Because of their muscles and flexibility, Vulcans don’t take a lot of fall damage, even a Vulcan child could fall from the a height that would easily kill a human and walk away with minor injuries

* Vulcan have very strong leg bones and muscles because of the slightly higher gravity than Earth

* Vulcans in the north prefer spicier food while people in the south prefer food with little, if any, spice. Humans to try the food are often stuck with something that seems boring to them, or just downright painful from the spice

* Because of their telepathic abilities, Vulcan babies need a lot of skin contact in their first few months after birth. It is not uncommon for a Vulcan mother or father to carry their infant child to their bare chest, even in public, usually tucked into their robes

* Because Vulcans are touch telepaths children get a sense of calm from their parents when they are in contact but also form familiar bonds, lack of touch can lead to malformation and damage to new neural networks in the infants brain

* Vulcan toddlers are volatile, they have yet to master their emotions and tend to throw fits over many things. Skin contact, such as hugging, holding and cuddling, from their parents usually calms them down. It’s common for children from ages 0-5 to sleep in their parent’s bed as they need near constant contact. During this time Vulcan parents begin to tech meditative practices such as hymns and monturas. As Vulcan children grow older, parents will begin to slowly step away from skin contact in exchange for led meditations

* On Vulcan, it is common practice for one of the parents to stay home and raise the child or children, however, if one of the parent die, close family such as grandparents or aunts and uncles will also help take care of the child or children.

* Young Vulcan children (5-12) do not completely suppress their emotions, they do however learn not to express them. Bullying, fighting, and rebellious behavior is not uncommon for this age group.

* For older Vulcan children (between 13-25) who have difficulty controlling their emotions, even with led meditations, the child is usually sent to a monastery for education.

* Vulcans aren’t fully mature until after the age of 30.

* Vulcans usually don’t experience Pon Farr until after the age of 30, usually between 30-35, but there has been some outliers. Some Vulcans can go through Pon Farr as early as 26 and as old as 40, but this is uncommon and usually means there is a health problem.

* Both male and female Vulcans go through Pon Farr.

* I don’t care what anyone tells me, Vulcans do and will have sex outside of Pon Farr.

* Vulcan ear shape is hereditary. The more curved ears you see on Spock, Sarek, Taurik are less common than the flat ears you see on T’Pol and Tuvok

* Vulcans with light colored eyes tend to have bad vision and worsens with age. They tend to spend more time inside because the sun can be unbearable at times. But Vulcans with light colored eyes can see in the dark better than Vulcans with dark colored eyes. Light colored eyes was a mutation that only accrued after urbanization of Vulcan.

* Vulcans are cold to the touch, like someone who has been outside without a coat in winter. Because they’re naturally cooler Vulcans don’t need to sweat to keep cool. If ancient Vulcans got too hot they could move into caves to cool down.

* Young Vulcans (under the age of 10) and old Vulcans (over the age of 130) have a difficult time keeping warm. On modern Vulcan it is fixed with indoor heating and cooling.

* Vulcan has many hot springs, most of which are underground, and are popular. However most tourists, such a humans, cannot use them as most are too hot.

* Vulcans have two different types of robes. Robes they wear during the day that keep them cool, and robes for night to keep them warm.

* The silk that Vulcans robes are made of are actually from a plant. The plant produces a silk like substance that is sticky to prevent animals from eating it. It’s very strong and ancient Vulcans scrapped the silk from the plants and ate them. Modern day Vulcans grow these plants near the seas in the north and far south near the pole.

* Other Vulcan clothing is made from wool from an animal that is similar to sheep and alpaca. Their wool is usually use to make evening wear. The wool also used in the making of blankets, pillows, and rugs

* The soles of Vulcans shoes are usually made from a hard woody root, which were better for walking on rock. Vulcan shoes can also be made from a type grass that is common on Vulcan, which are better for walking in sand. Shoes for military are made from rubber.

* The reason why Vulcans in tos have all kind of different hair styles is because at that time period Vulcan youth wanted to rebel against common standers, it’s also why T’Pring did not wear a traditional Vulcan wedding dress.

* It’s common for Vulcan women to cover their hair, whether it be long or short. Not only does it keep their hair clean from sand but it also protects their head from the sun.

* There is actually a wide variety of fashion on Vulcan, differing types of robes, dresses, and suits. Most common colors are usually neutrals but silvers, blues, purples, and greens are common in the south while golds, reds, oranges, and yellows are more common in the north.

* The common Vulcan bowlcut, humans call it, is more common in the government and military of Vulcan. The short hair is easy to maintain and keep care of. Many Vulcan citizens has varying hairstyles and most depend on what region they live in. It is not uncommon for Vulcan men and women to have long hair, especially if they do not work in manual labor.

* Most Vulcan men shave their faces. There are many reasons for it, such as, it’s cleaner, easier to maintain, keeps them cooler, and it looks more professional.

* When it comes to body hair, it is 50/50 on who shaves. The area around the reproductive organs are usually maintained but not shaved, as for legs, arms, and under arms, some areas it is more common to save than others. Young Vulcan men usually shave their chest, but as they get older is more uncommon.

* Vulcan women have on occasion worn makeup. Buying makeup on Vulcan is uncommon, many women on Vulcan grow plants that can be use for make up such as flowers that can be ground for lipstick or a crushed leaf for rouge. These plants usually have other uses such as medical or as food.

* Sehlats are not the only pets Vulcans keep. They also keep small rodents and occasionally a ferret like animal too.

* Vulcan pet names are usually old Vulcan names no one uses anymore or names of monsters or animals from ancient Vulcan literature.

* Sehlats aren’t fed meat, but instead high protein grain and vegetables and eggs. Sehlats are naturally omnivores but the need for meat was bred out of thousands of years.

[tennessoui]

You kind of already did 31 but pleaseeeeeeee

these ficlets keep getting longer ffs this is 2k

31. One is a sex worker, the other is a client AU

anakin's had his turn as a sex worker in my writing so it's Obi-Wan this time, paired with Vaderkin and i made it more dark than I thought would happen whoops but. warnings are: probably bordering extremely dubious consent even though no sex happens and this is just the lead up. a brief reference to underage sex work, though absolutely nothing comes of it. and vaderkin being a bit creepy.

There is a saying among the workers at the Establishment: if the imperial palace calls for you, you should hope the person that is displayed next to you is prettier.

Obi-Wan has never bought into prayers of any kind and this saying is only ever said with something akin to a worshipful dread. Still, when Ahsoka drapes a cloak of red around his shoulders and whispers those words to him—“May the others be your betters”—he thinks for a second about the nature of prayer and of hope and the futility of both in this galaxy.

“Don’t worry, little ‘Soka,” he smiles from under the cloak’s hood. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake.” He is, after all, one of the oldest workers here, makes most of his money these days tending bar and running the front desk, called in to serve mostly for virgin customers who want a gentler and more experienced hand to guide them in the art of pleasure. He doesn’t think any of the words could be used to describe the Emperor Vader, can’t see the imposing black-suited man interested in the art of pleasure.

Ahsoka can’t look him in the eye, but she hugs him tightly as he boards the shuttle that will take him to the Palace.

The ride there is quiet. Obi-Wan tries to avoid as many glances from the other people as he gives to them. Most of them are young, human. He seems to be the only male above 40. His chances are good.

Maybe he hadn’t been lying to Ahsoka. Maybe, truly, his name being included on the list had been a mistake

Something inside him hesitates though. He’d been out in the Upper levels a week ago, making his way home after one of his rare appointments with an old client turned friend. A child had fallen into the path of a small parade of speeders. A correctional officer had raised a whip. Obi-Wan had reacted on instinct, catching its lash with his forearm. The child had run off. Obi-Wan had stayed. He’d raised his head just enough, eons later, to see the durasteel outside of the largest speeder pass by his prone form, just enough to see the Imperial crest on its hull. Just for long enough to see a glint of a yellow eye from the window.

Bacta had treated his wounds, but his mind had not allowed him to rest easily, caught up in the memory of that eye--had he imagined the interest? Had he imagined it all?

And so to hear his name called tonight--the first calling since The Incident--had felt like the confirmation of all of his most unfounded fears.

Would tonight be the night he died? He had lived a long life. A rough one. Perhaps it is time.

Still, in the back of his head, a selfish, utterly human part of him whispered, may the others be your betters.

---

Those chosen do, often, come back. Sometimes they do not. Mostly they do. Obi-Wan has never truly decided which of these fates is the worse one. Those who survive don’t say anything for days on end, their eyes blank as they stare forward. Their bruises, if they are there, are easy to heal. But something is always wrong with their minds afterwards. And those who don’t come back...well. It’s hard to say what happens to them, where they go. Far away or down below.

Obi-Wan is forced to his knees in between a moderately aged female Togruta and a fairly young teenager. The boy is shaking. He can’t be more than sixteen.

They’re in the Entrance Hall. Obi-Wan has never been here before, but he supposes it makes sense. There will be one person who ventures further into the Palace. The rest will be dismissed out the doors that just shut. No need to bring the scum further in than they have to.

Distantly, like a funeral drum, Obi-Wan can hear the sound of feet falling, making their way closer. Just a single pair. He wants to look up, to watch the Emperor--because it has to be the Emperor--approach, but there’s a Guard behind him, holding his head down.

The footsteps are close now. There’s only ten of them--sometimes, Obi-Wan has heard that there can be as many as twenty or thirty--so the line is short. Vader paces quietly from the first to the last person, before stopping in the middle. Obi-Wan can just see the black of his boots if he flicks his eyes as far as they can go to the left. The boy next to him lets out a muffled sob. Obi-Wan wishes he could offer the kid some sort of comfort, some sort of reassurance that the Emperor will choose one of the other workers, a body more desirable than either of theirs, but there are no words to describe the guilty relief of a suffering passed onto someone else.

On some sort of invisible signal, the Guard behind Obi-Wan wrenches his head back by the hold he has on both the silken hood and his own hair. It’s far from comfortable, tilted so far back. The message is obvious. Submission is not optional. Respect will be shown through any means necessary.

Obi-Wan tries to keep the hulking form of Vader in his eyesight, even though to see ahead of him he has to close his eyes almost completely because of the angle. It’s impossible to see anything from the chest up, but he can still hear. Loud, mechanical breathing fills the halls. Vader stops at each person for no longer than five seconds before he continues down the line. Obi-Wan holds his breath, waiting for his turn. Does he turn his head as much as he can, to try and accentuate the gray at his temples? Does he lower his eyes?

He doesn’t, in the end, do either. Vader is wearing a mask, completely covering his face. He doesn’t even look human, except for the way he cocks his head slightly as he stares down at Obi-Wan. He feels flayed, just under the single look, but he can’t turn away either. He glowers up at him. Five seconds pass. Vader should be moving on by now. The fact that he hasn’t fills Obi-Wan with the sort of fear he’s only felt a handful of times in his life.

“This one,” Vader says through a voice modulator. Obi-Wan closes his eyes in defeat, thinks of Little Ahsoka back at the Establishment, thinks of what she’ll think if he doesn’t make it home.

But the boy next to him bursts into sobs and Obi-Wan opens his eyes to see that Vader’s hand isn’t pointing to him at all, but instead just to his right.

But Vader’s face is still pointed directly at Obi-Wan though, head still cocked. The question is as clear as if he actually spoke the words aloud. What will you do about this?

What will he do? What can he do? It’s the street from a week ago all over. A child is in danger. How can Obi-Wan ever live with himself if he doesn’t at least try to throw himself on the blade?

“No!” he says before he can think it through. The Guard behind him jerks his hair back roughly in punishment, but the monster in front of him runs two gloved fingers down his cheek, the pantomime of a lover’s caress. “Me instead. Choose me.”

“Quiet,” the Guard hisses to him, making him wince with the ferocity of the yank he gives his hair. Obi-Wan pants open-mouthed as he tries to think of an argument, of a single reason why the Emperor should not get what he wants, should settle for a washed up whore instead of a younger model. All he can think of is the moral justifications of it, and he’s not sure Vader would care for that line of reasoning.

“I’m asking,” he blurts out. The fingers pause from where they’ve been absent-mindedly touching his beard. “When has anyone ever asked?”

The Emperor takes a step back and seems to consider Obi-Wan, what he has to offer. He tries to preen, to throw his shoulders back and sit back on his heels to show off his body, but it’s hard when the Guard hasn’t let up on his hair. In fact the grip gets even tighter as the man behind him snorts a common insult.

A second later, the hand and the pressure disappear. Obi-Wan falls forward automatically at his sudden release. He scrambles away instinctively, even if that means closer to Vader. Vader who has his hand raised out in front of him clenching his gloved fist tight. Obi-Wan looks behind him at the guard who had held him. The man is scrabbling at his throat. Obi-Wan knows already it will be a futile effort. With Vader distracted by his execution, he turns to check on the boy. He’s looking down, refusing to make eye contact.

Probably for the better.

The Guard falls to the floor. The other nine Guards don’t move at all. Obi-Wan supposes there’s no room for loyalty in a galaxy like this.

“Come,” Vader says, running a hand through his hair. It’s a surprisingly gentle touch, seeing as that hand just took someone else’s life.

Slowly, Obi-Wan rises to his feet and follows behind him, through the twisting halls of the Imperial Palace. He thinks anyone could get lonely here if they have no one to keep them company. It’s so big. Obi-Wan shares his room with three other people, and he frets if one of them is still gone by the time he falls asleep.

This much space would drive anyone mad for another’s touch.

He blinks at himself, incredulous. Is he actually trying to feel compassion for the Emperor? Is it actually working?

The Emperor flings open a pair of elaborate doors without touching them, and suddenly Obi-Wan’s in the bedchambers of the most powerful man on the planet. And to think, he’s wearing mismatched and terribly darned socks.

He resolves to not ask Vader for permission to do anything with his own body for the entire night. He sits on the edge of the bed and watches as Vader takes off his cape and his gloves.

“Would you like to know my prices before or after?” He asks as cooly as possible.

“Your price is that it’s you here and not the boy.”

“Would you have wanted the boy?” Obi-Wan can’t hide the disgust in his tone.

“No,” the Emperor says succinctly. “But I did want to know what you would do. If you really were the same man as the one in the street.”

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat. “Why would you want to know that?”

“There’s so little good left in the galaxy. It’s fascinating that so much is concentrated in you.” Vader reaches up to unlatch his mask. A cascade of golden curls falls out.

He huffs. The Emperor of the Galactic Empire thinks there’s not enough good in the galaxy. It’s at the very least ironic. “It’s a greedy galaxy, your Imperial Majesty--”

The Emperor turns around to face him, helmet still held in his hands. Obi-Wan is surprised to learn he’s just a man. An attractive man, certainly, young and almost pretty with a perfect arch to his lips and a roguish scar cutting through a thick eyebrow. If he had been one of Obi-Wan’s workers, he’d have taken him under his wing, tried to protect him from the clients who would have paid extra to rough up that face.

He was saying something. Obi-Wan had meant to say something else. Oh. Right. “Good cannot be bought.”

The man in front of him--was it really Vader?--smiles, but it doesn’t reach his yellow eyes. “No,” he purrs, discarding his helmet and stalking forward. “But you can.”

[mommymooze]

A Cleric and a Prince

Dimitri x Reader

Cannon typical violence, deep splinters, personal threats

Being a healer at Garreg Mach is a challenging job. Working with Manuela in the infirmary is a mixture of emotions. Happy to help others, sad that she has so many personal issues, anxious when someone arrives with serious wounds, hilarious when the students tell you exactly how they become (not seriously) hurt before arriving in the infirmary.

You have not yet been instructed regarding the fine points of battle. If the students need healing battalions, you are part of the Seiros Sacred Monks, helping Mercedes. Your group frequently accompanies the Blue Lions in battles as well as working with them in the monastery, being available to heal them after rough sparring sessions and general needs.

Eventually, a few members of your battalion are assigned to specific members of the class. You are assigned to Dimitri and Dedue. You cannot handle Felix’s antagonistic personality. Sylvain, well, he was given a male healer so that he will focus on what is hurt versus being Sylvain.

After a few battles Dimitri and Dedue realize that you are their assigned healer. It is not announced to the troops, however they notice the same healers heading to assist the same team members. Dimitri asks you to sit with him and Dedue during meals quite often. Dedue speaks with you frequently during your time together in the greenhouse. Healing herbs don’t plant themselves.

You’ve become good friends with both of them. Cheering them both on when they enter the lance tournaments. Joining them in the training grounds, healing their injuries, or the injuries of their opponents more likely, after a long sparring session.

Things fall apart after the battle that occurs in the Holy Tomb. Dimitri is acting strange and distant. Dedue shields you from him at times. Dimitri’s health is suffering, you can tell that he’s not eating and sleeping properly. You help Dedue mix other herbs into the prince’s tea, hoping to get him to sleep occasionally. You find out about Dimitri’s ageusia and load up on the sleeping herbs. Dimitri is a big guy and there are enough herbs in this batch to knock out a horse. He finally sleeps for a night, Dedue cannot force the tea on him every day, he gives it to him as often as he can.

The battle when they lose the Professor is devastating. Dimitri is seriously injured, you keep him from the brink of death. As soon as he is mobile, Dimitri disappears with Dedue following him.

Remaining with the Knights of Seiros you are trained to fight like everyone else. Nearly five years are spent searching for Rhea, fighting Imperial troops, and thieves. Returning to the monastery after the anniversary of the millennium festival, the place is a mess, in worse condition than when you marched away with the rest of the Knights. The Blue Lions return. Dimitri is with them, at least the shell of him is here.

You attempt many times to speak with him while he keeps his vigil at the base of the shattered statue of the goddess.

“The Dimitri you once knew is dead, only this repulsive blood-covered monster remains!” he screeches at you as you enter with a tray of food from the kitchens.

You have learned to bring things that can survive his rage. Any food or drink you bring near him is immediately upended or thrown against the wall. In times of true hunger, the Boar forages, grabbing the chunk of sausage or meat skewers, now stale bread and raw vegetables from the floor.

The times that he is lucid are few. Infrequently, the Professor can have a partial conversation with him. If you catch him while he sleeps or as soon as he wakes, he may let you approach to clean a few wounds and heal him.

Felix scoffs at you, telling you that you are wasting your time and effort on a beast, a worthless animal. Yet Felix is there, every day, just like you, watching over him.

The army heads for Ailell, obtaining additional troops and Rodrigue joins them. Rodrigue can have a few conversations with Dimitri, however Dimitri’s anger still controls him. It is only when they take over the Great Bridge at Myrddin that a change is sparked in him, when Dedue rejoins the Blue Lions.

Now, when food is brought, it is handed to Dedue, who will not allow his highness to throw the trays. Dedue directs the prince not to use his rage upon those that come to aid him. He even convinces Dimitri to remove his armor, a few pieces at a time, to be cleaned and repaired. Dimitri allows the Professor or you to approach, assisting with cleansing his wounds, healing, and clearing his infections.

The army marches for Gronder Field. You stand amongst the troops in his battalion, waiting for the order to proceed. Suddenly it is time to advance. Dimitri and Dedue sprint far ahead of their battalions, they are immediately surrounded by enemies. The battalions fight their best, you alongside them. Perhaps nobody will notice if you cast physic on Dimitri. Dedue is a brick wall, or at least is made of stone, he does not get injured often. The Blue Lions fiercely move forward, Dimitri is determined to reach Edelgard and end her life.

Dedue assists by clearing the last armored Imperial fighter in Dimitri’s way as the leaders of the opposing troops battle. You are fighting Edelgard’s battalion members, preventing them from attacking Dimitri and Dedue. A sudden roar comes from Dimitri as Edelgard is warped away by Hubert. His prize taken from him, Dimitri lashes out at her remaining battalion members, crushing heads and ripping off arms, rending flesh.

The sounds of battle dissipate. You are called to the medical tents to assist with healing. Suddenly the word spreads around camp that Rodrigue has fallen. You cry, not just for Rodrigue, but for Dimitri, whose rage was calming due to Rodrigue and Dedue’s work, and for Felix, who is now alone.

Dimitri solemnly returns to Garreg Mach, Dedue at his side as they escort the body of his dear departed friend.

After the funeral, you march to the Cathedral, arms full of bandages and cleansing cloths. Dimitri would not let you treat his wounds after the battle, during the march or the service. Dedue convinced Dimitri to bathe for the wake. You approach them both as Dedue helps you undress Dimitri from the waist up. As you clean his wounds to avoid further infection, heal him, apply salves, and bandage him, Dimitri looks at you for the first time in forever.

“I am sorry for your loss. I know Rodrigue was like a father to you.” You tell him softly as you wrap a bandage around his left arm.

“He told me I should live for my ideals.” Dimitri swallows, his voice trembles, “Rather than stay shackled by the ghosts of the past.”

“Learn from the past, live for the future.” You smile at him, smoothing some salve to his left ribs. “I know you can do it. Rodrigue believed in you. I do too.”

“My apologies for any problems I have caused you.” He says then hangs his head.

Tying off the bandage on his chest you hug him. “All is forgiven. Rest easy.” You whisper.

He’s not sure what to do, he lifts you into his lap and surrounds you with his arms lightly touching your back, fearful of his great strength. He sobs into your shoulder as you softly whisper comforting words to him patting his back and rubbing his shoulders.

When his tears end, you ask Dedue to get a small towel wet. You place it on Dimitri’s face to cool his forehead eyes and nose. While pressing it to his face, you cast a faith spell to reduce the pain and swelling from crying. After a few minutes you peek underneath the cloth over his good eye.

“How’s it going?” You softly ask.

His blue eye looks at yours. “Better.”

You climb from his lap and he stands, taking a deep breath. “I should probably speak with Byleth.” He coughs into his hand. “Thank you.” He says bowing.

“I’m always at your service.” You smile.

The battle in Fhirdiad is awful. You had not been to the capital of Faerghus too frequently, it is painful to see so many lives ruined, buildings and homes demolished. The citizens are rebelling against the Imperial army, doing their best to help. Although the commoners are brave, you cannot help but feel grief-stricken when they are killed. The people are not trained fighters, however they feel so heart strong for their land and kingdom.

The battle against Cornelia is harrowing, under the tactical eye of Byleth and strong will of Dimitri, the Blue Lions are triumphant. Bells ring throughout the city proclaiming the victory. Citizens are jubilant, dancing in the streets. A celebratory feast is held in the castle.

You are in the infirmary, healing and patching up anyone that comes for treatment. Working long hours into the night, you collapse into an empty infirmary bed for a well-deserved rest. The morning comes quickly. Dedue arrives asking for assistance with Dimitri’s wounds. The serious injuries for soldiers have been addressed, ensuring that the soon to be King is healthy is the next item on the priority list.

“Thank you for coming to my aid.” Dimitri humbly addresses you as you enter his room. “I did not see you at the feast. I was told you were working with the other clerics, healing those that could be helped. I feel guilty asking for your assistance.”

“We need you to lead us.” You smile. “It makes no sense to let you become ill from infection.”

As you treat his wounds and bandage him, you tell him stories of his brave people. How they worked together to aid in the fighting, putting out fires to save buildings, pulling other citizens away from the battles, and how all of them support him.

Dimitri again lets his thoughts go back to when he was lost and out of control. You reassure him that the people have forgiven him. They cannot lead themselves, not yet anyway. Everyone can heal together. Rebuild the city, rebuild the people. Put people into place that are good rulers, good people to look up to and respect.

The conversation goes on, you did not realize that the two of you are talking for hours. It is quite late, he should probably be asleep.

“Come Dimitri, it is time for you to go to bed. Get dressed and I will tuck you in and tell you a story.” You grin at him. He holds you to your word. He calls to you after he is dressed in his nightclothes and under his covers.

You gently tuck him in and blow out all the candles but one. You tell him a fairy tale about a boy, magic beans, an evil goose, and a giant. Your hand is on the bed next to him. Gently he places his on top of yours before the story is done. You take his hand in both of yours, rubbing it warmly between yours as you tell him another story about silly animals that think they can sing and their adventures. When you know he is asleep, you take the candle with you as you leave.

The rest and recovery time in the capital is short lived as the army heads out to Derdriu to assist Claude, the city is under siege. Byleth leads the troops just in time to rescue them. The army turns south to head to Enbarr. One last attempt in negotiating for peace is held with Edelgard, however neither side would give in. Battle is the only way to finish the war.

The battle goes through the streets and heart of the city. So many dead, so much blood everywhere. Everyone gave their all. Edelgard refuses to stand down and her life ends. Dimitri, Byleth, and the rest of the army claim the final victory in the war.

You hound Dimitri for thirty minutes before Dedue steps in, helping remind him that he is injured from the battle and needs treatment. Taking him to a quiet and safe room inside the castle you cleanse his wounds, stitching what he would let you and healing him. You then force him to drink water.

“May I finally return to my duties?” He grumbles.

“Yes, now that I feel like you will not fall over in the middle of them.” You answer. Turning to Dedue you instruct him, “Do not let him stay up all night. He needs to try to eat and sleep.”

“As you wish.” Dedue nods as he follows his liege.

“Wait, you have not been healed as well. Sit and show me your wounds.” You direct him to a chair. Soon Dedue is allowed to follow Dimitri to the multiple destinations on the agenda for the evening.

You head to the temporary infirmary, healing and tending to all the injured, be they from your army or citizens of Enbarr.

Finally, the army leaves for Fhirdiad at the beginning of the Verdant Rain Moon. Everyone is happy to be in the cooler temperatures in the northern part of the continent. You settle in the castle, working in the infirmary, staying in the residence for the healers. In your spare time you volunteer healing the hurt and ailing citizens, working alongside them to help rebuild and recover.

Dimitri’s coronation is a grand affair and a healing event for the city. It is a celebration that proves things are well and that prosperity is just around the corner. You sneak out of the infirmary to watch Dimitri be crowned as King. The cheering of everyone brings tears to your eyes. Their hopes and dreams are now resting on his shoulders.

Finishing work, you arrive at the celebration long after the food has been served, someone had been kind enough to send trays of food to the infirmary and it was shared with the patients that remain there as well. Even the spirits of those still suffering injuries are high and in a celebratory mood.

You clean up, wearing clothing proper enough for a meeting with the king, not really fancy enough for a royal party, it is enough you think as you arrive at the festivities that are ongoing. Dancing, singing, drinking and toasts will most likely continue for the entire night. You look over the crowd, finding Dedue is not difficult, he towers over everyone. You wind your way through the other happy celebrants to stand by his side.

“Good evening, Dedue. Is everything going well?” You ask him.

Dedue leans toward you, whispering. “I am well. His Highness has been quite swept up in the events of the day and should move to retire soon.”

“I agree. It looks like he is being cornered by quite the crowd of potential dance partners, let me see if I can intervene.” You answer with the slightest bit of a grin.

Walking up to the King with an air of authority, you bow and wait for the opportunity to address him. Dimitri appears happily surprised at your presence.

“I am pleased to see you are able to join us. Is there anything I can do for you?” Dimitri smiles, but it appears to be a bit weary.

“My King, as your personal physician, I must remind you that your health is quite important and request that you retire. Your schedule is full of meetings tomorrow and will need your complete attention.” Your attitude and stance are such that nobody wishes to question your authority.

“My apologies, ladies. But I must leave the festivities for now, healers orders.” Dimitri smiles sincerely as the women surround him groan in disappointment and disburse, looking for another noble to taunt.

Escorting the King to Dedue, the three of you leave the venue, proceeding toward the King’s residential area of the castle. Once the three of you are far enough away, he stops.

“Thank you so much for rescuing me.” Dimitri gasps. “I felt like the last piece of meat at a butcher shop.”

“Living up to your name, Di-meat-tri.” You succumb to the terrible pun.

He laughs as you head to his quarters. You excuse yourself as you reach his door.

“No, please, come in.” Dimitri opens the door for both of you. He heads straight for a chair and holds his leg up for Dedue to pull his boots off.

“Ahhh!” Dimitri gasps. “My feet are killing me! I have been on them all day.”

Pain? He has pain?! We can’t have that. You procure a stool and sit at his feet. Grabbing a leg you place the king’s foot on your lap and massage it, noticing the slight swelling at his ankle from being on his feet all day. Using a bit of faith magic and expert fingers, Dimitri is content. You turn and take his other foot in hand for some healing and muscle manipulation. When you are finished, you look up to see one very asleep Dimitri.

Dedue smiles and you let yourself out the door as he takes Dimitri to his bedroom.

The castle calms down over the next few days, a comforting routine takes over. Dedue unexpectedly calls you to the King’s quarters, there was an accident in the training grounds when Dimitri was sparring with Felix. Dedue advises you of the situation and you bring the necessary tools to come to the King’s aid.

Entering his room, you find Dimitri seated by the window at his desk, looking over paperwork.

“My apologies for having to summon you. It is a trivial matter, however Dedue is concerned about infection.” Dimitri looks embarrassed. He is in his undershirt, his left shoulder and upper arm covered in dark streaks, debris, and blood. Imbedded under his skin are many long and deep splinters.

“This doesn’t look like it came from a weapon.” You observe.

“No, Felix knocked me over and I fell into the wall. I did not know the wood had weathered and well, here I am.” Dimitri says sheepishly.

“A steady hand and some antibiotics will take care of this.” You nod, unrolling the pack of sharp tools and tweezers.

Beginning with a bit of faith magic to numb the area, you take into hand a sharp scalpel, cutting along the length of some of the deeper splinters to make it easier to remove them. A tool in hand with a needle like point lifts the imbedded wood while the other hand manipulates the tweezers pulling at a large piece of wood. The easier pieces to remove are no problem as you place splinter after splinter on a piece of cloth on the table. Next it is time to work on some that are deeper in his flesh.

“Come on, nice and easy. You can do it. Mmmmmm” You softly say, coaxing the splinter from his shoulder. “Yessssss.” You mutter with satisfaction as it comes out in a single piece.

Laying the bloody wooden spike on the cloth you look up at the King, rubbing his forearm. Dimitri listens raptly to your chatter as you work. You are talking to splinters, but some of the words and how you say them are…sultry.

“How are you doing Dimitri? Need me to take a break?” You look into his blue eye that is staring at you, not paying any attention to his papers.

“I’m…I’m fine.” Dimitri stutters as he grabs a paper, holding it up to read, hiding his blush from the enticing words you are using to help coax out the splinters.

You nod, getting back to work. “You naughty thing, stabbing our King. Right there, yes, come out.” You beckon the splinters out as you dig them from his shoulder. Giving a happy sigh you place another large piece of wood onto the cloth.

“I’m going to tear apart the training grounds and find every splintery piece of wood and give them a piece of my mind.” You grumble as you go after a smaller splinter. Moving Dimitri’s shoulder and arm, you place his hand on your knee, giving the right flex to his arm to get to the next splinter.

Dimitri turns his head and coughs a few times. “Ahem.” He is quite embarrassed. He tries very hard not to think about his hand and where it is. Papers…supposed to be reading papers, right.

“Are you feeling okay?” You lean forward to rub circles on his back. “You’re not coming down with a cold, are you?” Your voice is terribly concerned.

“No.” Dimitri shakes his head trying to clear his thoughts. It’s hard to think while his back is being rubbed. “You can continue.” He holds the paper closer to his face so you cannot see the pink tint return to his cheeks.

You continue to verbally coax the splinters from his arm, occasionally giving a squeal when you successfully remove a piece without it breaking. Applying an antiseptic salve, you rub it into the wound.

“I don’t want to heal it quite yet. I’d like to check later and see if anything is left in there. I’ll bandage it for now and check before you change for bed.” You announce as you pick up his arm and place his hand on your shoulder.

“Hold it right there so I can bandage you.” You demand as you begin rolling the bandage around his arm several times to keep the salve on his wounds and prevent it from soiling his clothes. You sit down and slowly move your hands down the rest of his arm, lightly massaging it as you go. Massaging the center of his palm you are satisfied that you have removed them all.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Dimitri?” You stand and slightly bow to him.

He clears his throat, “No, that is all.” He says in his normal deep voice. Then adds a soft, “Thank you.”

Later that evening you knock on Dimitri’s door, beckoned in you see both Dimitri and Dedue looking at the King’s already unwrapped arm.

Dedue stands behind his arm as you approach. Dimitri is seated in a chair pulled close to a large candelabra providing sufficient light. Dedue points out two areas that are redder than the rest, some deep hidden splinters as you had feared. Dimitri’s shoulder is a bit warm to the touch, another sign of an infection brewing. You hand Dedue your tools, there is no table nearby. Casting numbing faith magic, you take your scalpel and cut a small slit into one area that is bright red. Holding the flesh apart with the scalpel and edge of the tweezers you see a black bit that must be another splinter. Quickly you grasp the end with the tweezer and pull out an inch long piece of wood.

“That would have festered into a terrible mess. Let me flush it with some antiseptic.” You pour some liquid from the bottle onto the wound, wiping the excess with a cloth to not cause a mess.

The second irritated spot is more difficult to see. Changing the angle of Dimitri’s arm helps, you take his hand and place it around your right hip.

“Keep your arm there, Dimitri. Don’t move while I have this knife in hand.” You warn as you cut into another deep area where you’ve already removed some splinters.

Dimitri doesn’t move, he’s frozen to the spot. So close, his arm is wrapped partly around you and your hip.

You hand the scalpel to Dedue as you carefully pull with the tweezers. This splinter is not as long, but already showing signs of infection, a pocket of pus surrounding the bloody wood. Pouring antiseptic in again to flush it clean you dab the spot.

“I hope you don’t mind a couple stitches.” You announce to Dimitri as everything happens at once.

Felix slams the door open to the King’s chambers, asking the boar if he ever got the splinters out.

Dimitri panics as his arm is around a woman when Felix enters the room, thus he stands up, pulling his arm into you knocking you backwards. Dimitri and Dedue both lean forward to reach for your falling form at the same time, smacking their heads together, hard. Dedue stays on his feet. You fall onto your back onto the carpet, followed by Dimitri who falls crosswise across your chest grabbing his head and preventing it from hitting the ground.

Felix stands with his mouth agape as you ask him, “Did you get any splinters, Felix?” looking up at him from underneath Dimitri’s prone form.

“Tch. No. But you may want to check to see that he didn’t hit his head as well.” Felix grumbles as he backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.

After a moment you heartily laugh at the whole situation. Dimitri and Dedue join in as everyone scrambles to their feet. You make them take a seat as you feel the bumps on their heads. Healing their heads first then stitching and healing Dimitri’s arm you ask if there is anything else needed this evening.

“No, that will be all.” Dimitri says with a soft smile.

You smile widely back at him. “Thank you for letting me serve you, my King.” You bow and leave the room.

The next day you are up early in the training grounds with two carpenters and their wood planes, smoothing every visible piece of wood in the grounds. Returning to the infirmary you continue healing those injured in mishaps around the castle. A young page knocks on the door and hands you a note and a bouquet of flowers. You are invited to tea with Dimitri this afternoon. You advise the page you accept the invitation.

The infirmary workload is light today. Things are slowly settling down after the coronation. Visitors have left and reconstruction is not as desperate as before, thus less injuries. Leaving the infirmary you head to your room, changing into a nice dress and fixing your hair a bit. You are eager to find out what business the King wishes to speak with you about. Heading to his personal wing of the castle, you knock at his door.

Dedue answers, inviting you in. As you enter, Dedue exits, closing the door behind him. Dimitri is dressed casually, no coat or jacket, simply in his shirtsleeves. As you enter the room, he stands to greet you.

“Please, join me.” Dimitri smiles, holding out his hand as he sits at one end of the settee, a large table with a tea service and sweet treats piled high on a tray. You take a seat on the other end, Dimitri pours tea for you.

“I believe Bergamot is a tea you favor, is that correct?” He smiles as he gently and carefully hands you your cup and saucer.

“Yes. It’s my favorite.” You return the smile as you reach for the honey, letting some drip into your cup, leaving the tea on the table as the contents are still too warm to drink.

Dimitri clears his throat. “I suppose I should get straight to the point. I am sure you are wondering why, out of the blue, I have suddenly invited you to tea. Things have been quite busy with ending the war and then plans for the coronation and the coronation itself. Of course, things are always busy as one is trying to set up the government again after so many years of chaos. It seems like there is a never ending list of meetings and consultations and conferences. And I’m rambling, aren’t I?” He coughs into his hand and swallows, taking a deep breath.

You reach out and touch his hand that is sitting on the settee between you. “Dimitri, we have known each other for years. We have fought together in a war. I have seen you at your worst. I am so happy now seeing you at your best. You can tell me what is on your mind.” You smile at him warmly.

Dimitri relaxes a little and takes a deep breath. “Yes. We have known each other quite some time. You have been by my side, helping me and supporting our efforts. You were there when I was so terribly lost. I thank you for that very much. You believed in me when I needed it the most. Now…” He takes your hand, softly as he can between both of his, staring at you intently, his hands begin to tremble.

Time stops as you look at each other in silence. His voice is soft and low as he speaks, “Would you…would you allowmecourtyou?” He sighs heavily, searching your face desperately for your answer.

First you smile, then you nod, he still looks at you. Figuring he wants to hear your answer you lean forward a bit.

“Yes.” You gasp, bringing your other hand over his hands that still hold yours.

“Yes? Oh yes! Thank you.” He grins happily. If he were a puppy his tail would be wagging hard enough to knock everything off the table. He had been expecting a no, so the yes took a few seconds to register. His cheeks are red, his eye sparkles and he laughs a bit with glee. “I’m just so happy. I don’t know what to do with myself. I had been worried and fretting over your answer, I had no idea what to think if you actually said yes.”

“Well, right now we can sit and chat and have some tea. Perhaps you can tell me of some things that you would like me to do to help you. Your day is filled with doing everything for the country. Perhaps some time can be carved out for doing things for you.” You reach for your teacup, taking a sip.

“Going outside sounds amazing. I’ve been cooped up inside the castle every day. I want to get on a horse and ride. To no place in particular, just feel the wind on my face and sun on my back.” His look is far away with a relaxed smile.

“If it is a nice day, we can take tea together in the gardens. The King should have the ability to make time for a ride at least once a week, if it is a nice day. If they give you too much trouble, I’ll ask your clerics to write a note prescribing a required amount of sunshine for your health.” You smile then take another sip of tea.

The next few days both of you take tea in the gardens together. You are happily surprised when he identifies several different plants.

“My interest in plants came from Dedue. He is always gardening in his free time. I insisted that we include some flowering plants from Duscur in the gardens. I would love to see plants from all over Fodlan here, growing together, just like the country.” He holds out his hand so that you can take his. He is still too cautious of his strength to touch you on his own.

The Harvest Festival calls for the city to be decorated in oranges, reds, yellows, and gold. Many displays and booths line the streets to celebrate the great harvest now that the land is at peace. Dimitri invites you to the event and you arrive alongside him in the royal coach. The path before you is cleared by soldiers surrounding the king for his protection.

Dimitri graciously offers compliments and accolades to all that have worked so hard providing food for everyone. His eye goes wide at the size of some of the pumpkins entered in a competition to see who could grow the largest. Often the two of you stop to admire a street performer entertaining the crowd. One of the rear soldiers drops multiple gold coins into each of the receptacles of the performers.

Suddenly you hear a shriek followed by a wailing cry. You dash off into the crowd, your medical instincts taking over. At the base of a tree, you find a woman crying over her son. The rambunctious six year old had climbed the tree, much to his mother’s dismay, to have a look at the King as he walked past. Unfortunately, the boy did not know the branch he was standing on was weak, it broke sending the child tumbling to the ground. Mother and child are crying as you kneel next to him.

“What is your name, young sir?” You ask him calmly.

He stifles a few tears enough to answer. “Jakob.”

“May I see where you are hurt?” You smile a bit, holding out your hands.

He points to his arm, his wrist is already swelling. He tries to lift it and lets out a wail.

“Shhhh. Hold still.” You hold the arm and wrist in yours as faith magic works into his injury. You hold his arm straight and begin ordering anyone nearby to provide splints and bandages. Immobilizing and wrapping Jakob’s arm, you give instructions to his mother. As you stand, you notice Dimitri is at your side.

“King Dimitri, may I introduce you to my newest friend, Jakob. Jakob, this is King Dimitri.” You smile.

Jakob has the biggest smile across his face as he stands and bows before the king. “It is my pleasant honor to meet you King Dimitri.”

The King bows to Jakob, “It is my pleasure to meet you as well. I suggest you heed your mother’s warning when it comes to climbing trees.” He smiles as he ruffles the boy’s hair.

“Yes sir, King Dimitri sir!” Jacob stammers.

“Please bring him to the castle tomorrow morning so I can check his arm.” You tell his mother. She thanks you several times.

You return to walking along the street with the King, admiring the displays and visiting with the people. A street vendor hawking his booth loudly calls out your direction.

“Oi! Your Kingship! Have a try at me booth! Just one throw is all I ask!” The man’s voice calls out over the crowd as he stands juggling coconuts.

You bump your shoulder into his and giggle as Dimitri shakes his head and concedes. “What is it that you ask of me?”

The man bows so deeply his head nearly touches the ground. “Ahh, Your Kingship! So wonderful to be graced by your presence. I only ask that you throw one of these coconuts at the stack of milk bottles at the rear of my booth. Should you knock them all down, you win!” The showman raises his hand to the target with a practiced flourish then both hands in the air as a sign of victory.

“Go on.” You nudge him again. He looks so cute when he’s put on the spot.

“Very well.” King Dimitri takes one of the offered orbs, staring at it for a moment, then hurls it at the stack. Milk bottles fly in six different directions, most of them landing far from the booth as the target is destroyed, the coconut breaks open on the rear wall of the booth and falls to the ground, shattered.

“What an arm! Your Majesty! Congratulations!” The showman scampers over to a special box and removes a beautiful hand crafted stuffed blue lion in all its majesty. A collar around its neck proudly displays the shield of Blaiddyd. “Me wife crafted it herself, she did. She said if you see the King, you must gift it to him, she said.” He bows as he offers the regal stuffed beast.

King Dimitri bows and thanks him for the beautiful gift, handing it to a nearby soldier to monitor while he continues his stroll. At the end of the lane where the festival ends, the King gives one final wave, thanking his people for their faith and hard work.

Returning to the castle, Dimitri must attend meetings, leaving you to your own business. Taking the stuffed lion in hand you dash to the servant’s quarters, asking for a few specific items. You then head to the infirmary to notify them to find you when Jakob arrives tomorrow so that you may personally check on his wellbeing. You trust your replacements in the infirmary, you had chosen them yourself, however Jakob is a special patient.

Returning to your quarters, which now are close to the King’s own rooms, you find the requested items. With a bit of assistance, you complete the project and request it be delivered to Dimitri’s chambers.

Joining the King and the current guests in a large meeting room, representatives of the former Alliance region are here to discuss their budgets and new laws for the expanded Kingdom. There is a break for dinner followed by discussions continuing until late in the evening. The conversations finally wind down and you know that Dimitri is quite exhausted.

“I believe everyone has made great progress today. Let us all sleep on this and take this up again in the morning.” You announce.

Everyone in the room nods as you escort Dimitri to the exit. Walking down the hallway, your hand in his, Dimitri yawns not once, but twice from exhaustion. Dedue opens the door for the both of you. Following you inside the three of you sit and enjoy a cup of chamomile tea, a lovely habit you have incorporated to get him to wind down before bed. You must leave soon, his eyelids are getting heavy, you hope he sleeps well this night.

“Come with me.” You smile as you take his hand and lead him to his bedroom. Dimitri blushes and looks quite confused as you lead him inside the doorway. You point at his bed and then he notices the stuffed blue lion. It is adorned with a small crown, eyepatch and a cape that resembles his.

“It’s adorable!” he exclaims as he puts his hands on your cheeks and plants a sudden kiss on your lips.

“Come again?” you gasp, your eyes wide.

Dimitri stops and blushes in his sleepy stupor as you pull on his collar and place a brief sweet kiss to his lips. Dimitri’s cheeks are a bright red as you step back and bow.

“Good night, my sweet.” You tell him before leaving the room.

“The tea was lovely, thank you Dedue.” You announce as you leave the king’s quarters, walking normally. This is a normal pace? Right? Sure it is. You see yourself out the door. Running into your room you fall on your bed and scream into your pillow. He finally kissed me!

The next morning you stop Felix on his way to bang on the King’s door wishing to drag him out for a morning spar. You require his assistance in accompanying you on a trip to the harvest festival area. He complains the entire trip switching between arguing that he is wasting his time doing this and you must stay closer to him, any madman with a blade could try to attack you. Once your mission is complete you purchase three heavily spiced meat sticks for him to enjoy while you head back to the castle.

Upon your return you are delighted to meet with Jakob and his mother in the infirmary. Jakob chatters the entire time that he is bragging to all his friends that the King had messed up his hair and he is going to grow up to be a knight to protect King Dimitri. Changing his bandages, you are pleased with his healing progress, he can take the bandages off in two weeks as long as he behaves. Before they leave, you had a large basket to his mother, filled with fruits, smoked meats, bread, and cookies.

“Share the cookies with all of your friends and neighbors.” You remind him as you wave goodbye.

The visitors with the king leave after a final meeting, heading back to warmer territory as quickly as possible before the snows cover the land. Certainly, it is not today as the sun is warm and the weather is beautiful. You work on a few projects when there is a familiar knock at the door. Dedue has arrived to fetch you for lunch.

“It is so nice out, I thought Dimitri would want lunch in the gardens today.” You mention.

“His Highness said he prefers to have it in his chambers today.” Dedue answers. He opens the door so that you may enter, then closes it behind you as he remains outside of the room.

Dimitri is immediately on the other side, looking a bit flustered.

He reaches for you, ever so lightly placing his hands on your shoulders, his eye searching yours. “Tell me, I cannot remember if it was real or a dream. Did we k-kiss last night?” His face flushes red.

You nod as pink dusts your own cheeks. “Yes.”

“May I kiss you again?” He asks as he pulls you close. His voice is so deep, with your chest pressed against his, you’re not sure if it is the vibration of his words or the shudder of a thrill racing up your spine.

“Please.” You beg him, your hands sliding up his chest around his shoulders pulling him down to meet your lips. It is a bit awkward, slightly messy, and the best kiss you’ve had since the night before. You hold him tight to your chest as he slowly wraps his arms around you as lightly as possible, resting his cheek on your forehead after the kiss. You sigh happily into his chest.

You try to step back, however he has no intention of letting you go.

“We should eat a bit.” You suggest.

“I am hungry for your lips.” He mumbles into your hair.

“They are not very nutritious.” You tap him on his back.

“You would deny a starving man who has just had a small taste of the most delicious thing he has ever had in his life?” He chuckles.

“You are always negotiating. Would you agree to lunch then perhaps kisses for dessert?” You look up at him and grin.

“One now, then lunch.” Dimitri brings his lips to meet yours once again.

After the most hurried lunch you have ever eaten, you find yourself on Dimitri’s lap exchanging kisses.

A knock on the door alerts the both of you to Dedue’s presence. “Your highness, you have a meeting to attend.” He announces.

Dimitri sighs heavily, “The duties of a King are never done.” He bemoans.

You giggle as you clamber from his comfy lap. “Let me get a comb to make you more presentable.” You offer. After combing his hair and straightening his clothes, you send him off to be bored for the remainder of the afternoon.

Things are busy rebuilding the kingdom. There is always another emergency, an urgent need or any excuse for a meeting. He has been in meetings from early dawn, only returning now very late in the evening. He eats little, his head is pounding from the stress of the day. He hesitates to call you, however he has another meeting filled day tomorrow and must try to get some rest.

You ask Dedue to please prepare tea for the three of you this evening. Directing Dimitri to sit on the couch, you stand behind it and apply gentle faith magic to relieve some of the pain in his head and jaw from being so tense. You then place the footrest at the far end of the couch, coaxing him to lie back and place his head in your lap.

You ask for his right hand and massage the point just above the thumb where the index finger would be carried down. Applying pressure first, then rubbing circles with your thumb in each direction. Placing his hand on his chest you do the same with his left hand.

Next you squeeze the spot on each side where the bridge of his nose meets the bridge of his eyebrows. Applying steady pressure there, then releasing and repeating. Finally reaching around to the base of his skull in the parallel hollow areas between the two vertical neck muscles, you press upward to the top of his head briefly release and repeat.

Removing the hair tie from his hair you run your fingers through it, gently scratching his scalp. You watch his face visibly relax and a soft smile is on his lips as you continue to card through his hair.

“Better, sweetheart?” You softly coo.

“Mmmm, yes. Thank you.” He relaxes.

Dedue brings in the tea service, placing the cups and saucers for three at the table.

You tap Dimitri on the nose. “Diiiimmaaaa. Tea time!”

He sighs then sits up. “Whatever you did was amazing. My headache is gone and I think I should be able to sleep some tonight. Thank you.”

Dedue pours tea for everyone.

“Thank you again Dedue, for a wonderful tea.” Dimitri smiles.

“You’re welcome, your Highness.” Dedue answers.

You take a cookie, taking a bite. “Oh, did you make these Dedue?”

“Yes, I had the time this afternoon.” Dedue nods.

“They are delicious. Hmm, anise, cinnamon, nutmeg, pecans, ginger, clove, molasses. An amazing group of flavors mixed in with love. Thank you so much, Dedue.” Your appreciation shows in your smile and warmth toward the man.

Teatime is very much enjoyed. Dimitri looks like he is relaxed enough to go to sleep peacefully and without a headache. Dedue looks away so you can give Dimitri a sweet good night kiss.

Sunday is the lightest day of work for Dimitri. No meetings if there are no visitors in the castle. The weather is beginning to cool a little more every night. It won’t be long before snow covers everything. Dimitri wishes to take a long horseback ride and invites you to join him. You’ve never really learned the skills of being on a horse, Dimitri is more than excited to educate you. Lifting you up straight into the saddle, he climbs up behind you. Accompanied by a few knights on horseback everyone rides out past the city and into the countryside. His destination is a small area of woods that has a cliff overlooking some of the lands of Fhirdiad. Dimitri discussed the location with Dedue, this spot would provide some privacy, enemies could only approach from one side and the guards could stay far enough away, yet still protect their King.

Dimitri dismounts, lifting you from the saddle. He then unties a picnic basket from the back of the horse and tethers the steed to a tree. Spreading out the blanket you unload the basket to find a delicious lunch, complete with sweet tea.

“This is beautiful, sweetheart.” You smile at him as you place food on your plate. “A gorgeous view and beautiful scenery too.”

Dimitri blushes once he realizes the compliment. His mind then heads straight to places it should not go at such a lovely scene. “I am a beast. I have done horrible things. How can you trust yourself to be alone with me?”

Placing your food on your plate you reach out to cup his cheek. “I have seen you at your worst. I have seen you at your best. You are not a beast. You have come so far making amends for what was done and you will continue to improve. I will be here for you as long as you wish, to help you become the best you can be.”

“Why? Why would anyone want to help me? Some days I feel so useless, that I can’t be the King everyone expects me to be.” He is trembling under your touch.

“I help you because I love you. I know you are a great King, Dimitri. We all know.” You smile, using the thumb that is close by you wipe a tear from his eye.

“You…love me?” Dimitri is shocked.

You fold your hands into your lap and look at them. “I must not be doing a very good job of showing you that I do.”

“Wait! Please, take my hands.” Dimitri begs you. You reach out to hold his hands in yours.

You look into his eye, confused.

“I never thought I could be loved. You have always been there since we met, haven’t you? I have been a monster to you, yet you still came to feed me and heal me. When I had asked permission to court you, I thought you would decline. Every day I wake up and think you would reject me this day. I can’t believe you are still here, with me.”

Dimitri bends forward and pulls you close. Placing a sweet kiss on your lips. Your lips are barely touching his as he whispers. “I love you.”

The next few kisses are not as chaste as the previous one. Plates and food are scattered about the blanket as you hold each other close.

Dimitri’s stomach growls loudly, causing you both to laugh.

“I think we should finish our picnic before you begin digesting your internal organs.” You laugh.

“Can that happen?” Dimitri innocently asks with a look of surprise.

“No. Just joking!” You laugh.

“You are a cleric and an expert on those things. I suppose my sense of humor needs a bit of work.” He smiles sheepishly as he helps you straighten out the food. Finishing the picnic lunch, he packs the basket onto his mount.

“Wait. I need to get on this thing without your help.” You announce.

Placing your foot on the stirrup you attempt to hike yourself up onto the horse. Mentally you remind yourself you need to do a lot more squats. The third hopping jump you manage to jump/haul yourself up and stand with your left foot in the stirrup, you haul your right leg carefully over the horse and sit crookedly on the saddle, gently moving and wiggling yourself to center while trying not to upset the steed. Dimitri’s long legs are great for having the stirrup low, but then you had to overcome the length of your legs versus his. Maybe if you had a horse of your own it could be shorter. Maybe a pony? You suddenly notice a snickering man next to you.

“What?” You snap at Dimitri.

“Nothing.” He smiles at you, easily getting up and into the saddle as if he flew on wings.

You turn around to look at him again, he still has that silly grin on his face. “You look like the cat that ate the canary.” You frown.

“It is just that when you have your mind set on something, you can be very stubborn.” Dimitri whispers in your ear. “It is very endearing, my beloved.”

Those two words at the end send a shiver down your spine, followed by a second when he kisses the top of your ear peeking through your hair.

Winter in Fhirdiad is cold, nobody can deny that. Early winter the snow falls, then melts and this repeats as the weather has not quite made up its mind. By the end of Red Wolf Moon, the snow is here to stay for a while. Wagon wheels get stuck, so sleighs are used to cart things around in the northern parts of the kingdom until the snow is too high to move anything.

Although it is cold outside, with enough warm blankets, perhaps a warming box under the seat filled with live coals to keep your feet, legs, and posterior warm, you agree to go on a sleigh ride with Dimitri. Wearing your fluffiest warmest winter hat and coat, you are surrounded by blankets and your boyfriend as Dedue drives the horse drawn sleigh through the city and countryside. Dimitri entertains you with stories of snowball fights and building forts and snow houses with his friends.

Dedue even joins in, sharing his experiences growing up. With the water surrounding Duscur, the snow would be so deep that they had doors on the roof of the house so people could get outside and carry on business or shop or just leave the house to play. Winter is also a time for handcrafts, baking, soups and savory stews. Before the end of the ride, he promises to make a Roasted Root Stew for dinner in the next day or two.

The sun sets quickly in winter, the moonlight giving a bluish tint to the snow as it sparkles all around. The trees look like they have their own coats of white covering every branch. A rabbit scampers across your path, its fur turned snow white to help with camouflage. The most amazing thing about snow is the quiet. Not many birds stay around in the winter. Once it is night everyone goes inside as the little bit of warmth from the sun is gone. The only sound is the horse tromping through the snow and the swwishhhh sound of the sleds sliding across the snow. The quiet is peaceful, beautiful and filled with the air of calm.

The snow piles higher and higher around the castle. Time marches along as the citizens and lands rest, healing from the war. The King is healing as well. His nightmares are not nearly as frequent, he does not seem on edge and full of angst by the end of the day.

Dimitri’s birthday is tomorrow and a small celebration is planned. Several of the other Blue Lions will be attending, easily able to traverse the snow. Dedue is pouring chamomile tea as you review what has happened today.

“I was called to the kitchens again this morning,” You dribble some honey into your tea. “The cook’s new apprentice burnt her fingers again. That is the third time this week.” You frown.

“Perhaps you can provide her some training?” Dedue offers.

“I would like to sew gloves permanently on her hands!” You chuckle. “Perhaps we can set up something to develop her awareness.”

“The meetings were light today. Not too many complaints when people have difficulty making it through the snow.” Dimitri muses.

“Tomorrow is the big day, not everyone will have problems getting here tomorrow, I hope.” You smile taking a sip.

“Felix and Sylvain will have no trouble whatsoever. Mercedes and Annette will arrive with them.” Dimitri’s eye shines brightly as he goes through the list. “Ingrid will be on Pegasus, so no issues there. Of course, Ashe is a knight here, so the only concern would be Byleth’s arrival in time.”

“Am I spoiling you if I want to be the first to give you a birthday present?” you ask him just before he must go to bed.

“Sometimes, my beloved, I have noticed that you are not the most patient of women.” Dimitri grins. “I will allow this, only for you.”

You happily pull him to his bedroom door and open it so he can see it.

Normally the proud kingly lion sits in the center of his bed, awaiting his return. Tonight, he sits opposite a beautiful female lion. She is adorned with a circlet of flowers around the top of her head and ears, long ribbons down her back and a clerical cape like yours. The lions face each other, touching noses.

“They are adorable.” Dimitri smiles.

You bend down to the bed patting the lioness on the head. “Oh, what is this? I think she has a present for you.” You softly say as you get down on a knee to reach and obtain a box that is sitting between her front paws.

Dimitri comes closer to join you, only for you to stay on one knee and turn to face him with the box in your hands.

“Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, will you marry me and make me the happiest woman ever?” You ask, your eyes welling up with tears.

Dimitri gasps and falls to his knees in front of you. “What? Oh yes! Of course, yes!” He declares as he takes you in your arms and kisses your lips and face urgently. Eventually, the two of you have to break apart to breathe.

“You definitely have an impatient side to you.” He laughs, placing his forehead against yours.

“What? I have the patience of a saint.” You giggle. “Saint Cethleann was very impatient.”

“I suppose you are entitled to this.” Dimitri walks to his desk and opens a drawer. He brings a small box to you. “Just to be certain, will you marry me?”

“Let me think.” You chuckle. “Yes. Without hesitation.” Pulling him close you kiss him again.

The day of Dimitri’s birthday is a joyous event for everyone in the castle. Guests arrive and are settled in their rooms. Felix, Sylvain, Annette and Mercedes make it without incident.

“Come on Boar, spar with me. We have time before dinner.” Felix grunts as he shoves Dimitri in the shoulder

You have a cup of tea and cakes with Annette and Mercedes in your parlor, catching up on the latest gossip. You are relieved that they are wearing gloves, you have not had much experience in the high circles of society. It is cold in the hallways, and they certainly help.

“Teaching at the School of Sorcery full time really keeps me busy.” Annette says as she places her teacup down. “It is fun to see the wide eyed new faces get excited about casting their first spells.

“Annie, that is so sweet.” Mercedes laughs softly. “Things are going very well at the new orphanage we started in Fraldarius. We have a huge building and a room for each individual child. We really appreciate the help from Dimitri and Felix. The children are going to write thank you letters soon. I hope you get to see them.”

“That is wonderful to hear. I am sure Dimitri will be well pleased with the news.” You thank them. “Getting the country back on its feet and prospering is his main goal, of course. I hope to see some of these places myself when it warms up in the spring.”

“That would be awesome if you can come visit!” Annette gasps excitedly. “We could have the students show off their talents. Many are working hard to take existing spells and making them useful in every day life.”

“Can someone look into a spell to cast on ordinary items that resist breaking?” You giggle. “I know someone that would appreciate that spell for sure.”

The table erupts in laughter. Girl talk continues as Ingrid joins you. Byleth’s arrival is announced, and everyone heads to one of the comfortable dining rooms that is prepared for the lavish feast the cooks have prepared.

Dinner consumed, the reunited Blue Lions retire to the King’s wing of the castle in a parlor fitted with plenty of furniture to accommodate everyone comfortably. Chairs, lounges and couches are scattered about the room as well as bowls of fruit, trays of cheese and sausage for snacks. A well-stocked cupboard carries glasses, wines, ciders and hard alcohol.

Sylvain makes himself right at home pulling out a large bottle of brandy and filling a few glasses. Annette picks out a fruity wine made with blackberries and between the two everyone has a glass.

“May I propose a toast?” Byleth spoke up and everyone shushed. “Happy Birthday to Dimitri, King of United Faerghus. May he have many happy and peaceful birthdays to come.”

Sylvain let out a whoop, most others give a respectable cheers! Everyone settles into little groups chatting amongst themselves. You lean on the arm of a comfy sofa, talking with Byleth about what is going on in the monastery.

“The rebuilding and repairing is going well.” Byleth shares. “The classrooms are functional, and all of the dormitories are repaired. We are rewriting the curriculum to teach mathematics, reading, writing and other necessary classes for the public. We want it to be a school for the children to learn, leading into better careers than just becoming knights or fighters.”

“That is wonderful to hear!” You excitedly clap your hands together. “A well educated people is a boon for everyone.”

Dedue is on the left side of the room with Ashe and Mercedes discussing recipes. Ingrid, Felix, Dimitri and Sylvain are discussing some recent merchants that arrived in Fhirdiad offering impressive and finely made weapons from Dagda and Brigid, the styles of weapons being the main topic of conversation.

Mercedes sits next to you for a while, speaking with you and Byleth about a recent idea you are testing. Setting up healing clinics in the city in several areas to assist in keeping the people healthy. Byleth approves of the idea and may test some clinics in areas around Garreg Mach.

Sylvain has been keeping everyone’s glasses full. He notices that he really hasn’t had to fill your glass much, however the glass of water next to your wineglass is nearly empty. Leaning over the back of the couch he starts massaging your shoulders.

“Hey.” Sylvain bends over and speaks softly close to your ear. “If you don’t like the wine we have other drinks. Loosen up and have a good time, beautiful. Get relaxed. “He grins at you and then winks.

Before you can turn your head to tell him no, Dimitri marches over and sits next to you on the couch removing Sylvain’s hands.

“Refrain from manhandling my fiancée.” Dimitri growls at him. He then gently places his hand on top of yours that is sitting on the couch cushion between the both of you.

You blush at him as several gasps utter in the room.

“Fian- you’re getting married Dimitri? Congratulations!” Sylvain nearly shouts, slapping him on the shoulder. “Didn’t know you had it in you! When did this happen? Tell us all about it!” He runs around to the front of the couch to take a seat in the chair directly opposite Dimitri so he can watch his friend’s every move.

“I-well. It just happened. We aren’t quite ready to announce it, but then Sylvain…” Dimitri hangs his head down, shaking it while blushing profusely.

You decide to swoop in to save him. “You see Sylvain, when two people like each other and get to know each other well, spending time together, sometimes something special happens. We have been courting for quite a while you know.”

“I know, yeah. But he’s Dimitri! He has no idea how to flirt or capture ladies’ hearts. Has he even kissed you?” Sylvain looks quite shocked.

Dimitri’s face is red all the way to his neck. You take his hand in yours and squeeze it tightly.

“We have kissed. He kissed me first and everything else is our business. Change the subject.” You give him your evil eye look.

“Wow.” Sylvain laughs. “Wah-hah-how.” He stands up and walks to the alcohol cabinet. Felix gives him a punch in the shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up, idiot.” Felix mumbles.

“Felix, do me a favor.” You smile slyly. “Take Sylvain to the training grounds with you early tomorrow morning and give him a good workout. I’ll even tell them to lock you two in there so he can’t escape.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Felix gives a courteous bow and Sylvain a side eye.

“Speaking of sparring,” Byleth says loudly. “I have a few new swords I’ve brought if you want to have a look at them Dimitri. Fantastic workmanship. I hear this weapon maker has some amazing materials that are being shipped in from Dagda.”

You get up to move about the room, talking with Ingrid about improving farming techniques in their territory.

“We always thought Galatea had poor soil because certain fruits and vegetables would not grow well there.” Ingrid sips her wine. “We kept fighting with the land, trying to make it grow what we wanted. Finally, we’re growing what the land wants, what grows in our type of soil in the first place. This is the third year for cranberries and the bushes are loaded. Rethinking our ways has improved things a hundred fold.”

“I love cranberries.” Annette croons. “They make a really tart sauce that is great with bird meat.”

“I like the juice for breakfast, it certainly is an eye opener!” You add.

The conversation quietly moves to anything and everything except for the engagement. Annette heads over to speak with Felix, Ingrid heads to Ashe to discuss something.

Sylvain stands close, but not too close to you. His grin is full of mischief. You dread what is going to come out of his mouth.

“So, when you planning on having kids?” Sylvain not so innocently inquires. “The council has been dogging him about heirs since the day after his coronation.”

“One more word from you and I will have Felix take you to the training grounds now, followed by Byleth, Dedue, Ingrid, Ashe and myself. Am I making myself perfectly clear?” You give a smile through gritted teeth that makes him cringe down to his toes.

“Yes Ma’am.” Sylvain whines as he backs up and heads to the farthest side of the room, only to find Dimitri there, so he splits the difference and heads to a corner furthest away from the both of you.

Sylvain stays in his corner. Ashe approaches him, asking a question. As he opens his mouth you stare at him. Sylvain dutifully closes his mouth and only answers by nodding yes or no. His voice is not heard throughout the rest of the evening. It is a fine party indeed for Dimitri’s birthday.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Aarakocra Boyfriend: Enzo

This is for 2,000 of you lovely people following me. Thank you all so much! <3 This took more than a week to write, all thanks to writer’s block and burnout, so I’m thankful that I somehow managed to get this out lol. 

Also, may or may not have gotten inspiration from Revali-- anyway, enjoy!

Part 2

Relationship: male monster x female reader

Burning Heart

Fresh snow. Fresh snow that had fallen a hundred-foot deep, cleansing the land for eternity.

"The last time I saw snow this deep, I was just a little boy, still clutched to my mother, unaware of how big the world was." Your companion marvelled. "My father was smart enough to never go further up north—he reminded me. I did not gain his intellect."

Calder was a man who came from the nearby town of Ravensfell, a few days out from Briar, but he had been more of a cold type when it came to first-time introductions. Eventually, you got to open up more of him, little by little. His olive skin, chiselled features and rugged beard made him every female's focus, but the poor man was either too oblivious or polite to acknowledge their flirtations. You couldn't help but laugh at the failed interactions. Poor man, too preoccupied in his own toil.

He became a well-appreciated acquaintance for you on your long travels from town to town, east to west then south to north, but his company was all good experience. After all, he was the best sellsword for the job, merely a guard for you whilst you continued your researches; the sight you needed when you turned your back.

Your team's campaign had led you and your small faction to head further up north, to a small village of Oakendenn full of proud and efficient warriors, the bird folk that had carried the same customs for centuries, evoking both fear and wonder into those who bumped into them. Granted, their seclusion from the world had been brought down quickly when travellers and researchers intent on learning about them came rushing at the chance, ruining their solitude for good.

Stepping foot into their quaint town was certainly a spectacle, having to meet your guide to finding such remains high up in the mountains of Fallde Slopes– if the slopes didn't kill you, the snowstorms could freeze the group within hours if they didn't take the right precautions or clothing.

"You say there is a guide who will help us?" The small dirk in your hand was smooth and unused, still brand new as the day you had gotten it. You were situated in the town itself, in a cramped yet warm inn that was all opened up to the elements, trying to remain unaware of the cold stares of the innkeepers.

"He's one of the finest warriors, apparently. Familiar to the lands and every speck of snow that litters this land," Calder's laugh was hearty. "Must pity us for our lack of feathers and wings."

"The Aarakocras are fierce, brutal they are with fighting as they are as with foreigners." If there was one thing you learnt, it was that not all the people you ran into would be so welcoming. "Careful you don't offend them. We need their apparent aid."

Calder grumbled something as he tended to the flames of the room, poking them occasionally. "Sooner to be done with this job and we can get out of their feathers, huh?"

"That's it, just think of it like that. And soon, you can be back to the warmth of the south."

"Thank the Gods," Calder smiled sadly. "I don't think I could spend another day away from my little Zerlina." You remembered the girl when you were riding out: a sad, tearful girl the spitting image of her father, tight dark hair so wild and knotted. You had remembered the night before the trip you had brushed them out gently for her the way your mother used to do for you. Just to help Calder out.

The poor man is a good father overall. Even if he doesn't see it.

"She'll be so happy to see you again, Calder. She misses her father dearly." You reassured quietly, watching the man again. He was worn and beaten, littered with scars and thick, burly arms. He longed for home too.

"I hope so too." He stretched, saying his goodnights to you and the others before heading to his cot to sleep. You followed, heading to your own bed before you couldn't find sleep, wishing you had someone to wait for you too.

Even when you remained aloof, you still tried to remain somewhat friendly to strangers, even to the guide who had gone out of his way into helping you. But they certainly what you had been expected.

"It seems I have to be a tour guide for your pesky expedition, hmm?"

The smile from nerves of introducing yourself to him had fallen from your face after hearing the words so sourly come from him. It didn't take much for you to build up the walls high again.

Your hand faltered, just in reach for him to shake, awkwardly pulling away. "So, you're the Enzo we were expecting?"

The first thing you noticed about him was how vivid his feathers were: the brightest compared to his countrymen. Many of reds, oranges and yellows, like red sands of the far south of your home; beaten and threaded like a thousand coppers. It made the winter sun far in the north much more lively. By far the prettiest of the others. You admitted, but only could you wish his personality was as lovely as his appearance.

Another thing you noticed about him was his wings: they were separate from his body, large and tucked behind his back, his hands similar to any humans but with long and curled nails for fingers. His bird body was dressed in what looked like traditional garbs: leather and a basic tunic and pants, his taloned feet poking out and tapping against the ground.

"Your boss was the one who called for me, asking if someone capable of knowing their way around these parts, clearly, you humans don't know much about us Aarakocras," he jeered, eyes a lovely golden colour even when they were staring intimidatingly down at you. "So, you're the one they call the Doctor?"

Clearly too prideful, I've noticed. You scoffed. All too stubborn like the snowstorms. "That is correct."

"So I've noticed," Enzo crossed his arms around his broad chest, the amusement was pooled in those eyes as if he was in on the funniest joke around. "Clearly all of your studies have gone to a degree than in common sense."

You pondered whether it would've been ideal to punch the bird square in the face, or whether provoking him would end with your untimely demise.

Instead, you squared your shoulders, straightening your posture as you pointed just behind him. "You see Fallde Slopes over there? Its hills have been receding in the last 100 years, meaning any day now, your village could be woken up buried under layers and layers of snow. The snow stops here, meaning you and your people could be facing the demolition of this region and its inhabitants." You crossed your arms too, copying him. "I'm just trying to help unless you think my studies had gone elsewhere?"

Enzo scoffed, a puff of feathers that ruffled up. "Let's just resume to what we're good at, hmm?"

-

If travelling anywhere had taught you anything, it was that you shouldn't trust any higher-ups, believing everything will be smooth sailing.

The reports and samples scattered across the slopes, dancing dangerously too low to the cliff edges, some succumbing more than others, and those in your group scrambled to save them. Enzo remained arrogant as ever, doing little to help and rather smugly watching the ordeal, complaining often that your group were "walking too slow" and "we were running out of time for sunlight".

You were situated in the corner, silently taking note of what was around of little life preserved, before the beating of wings perked your ears. Snow crunched delicately when the Aarakocra stooped beside you, watching with soundless intent.

"So, this is what you do?" He grazed at a small patch of dirt you had brought up beneath the heavy snow. "Looking at dirt and grass?"

"All of this hold important information for us to understand how the landscape is changing," Enzo couldn't help but to have his attention piqued when he heard how almost automatic your response was, informing rather than belittling him. When you looked up to meet his eyes, it was hard to gauge his reaction: head tilted, seemingly drawn in from how far leant to you he was beside you.

He quickly dismissed it, pulling back from the noticeable closeness, and the burning feeling in your chest fluttered too quickly for your liking. "Whatever keeps us alive, I suppose."

Another presence came over to the two of you, heavier than of the Aarakocra. "You think you could help me with this?" Calder was looking over at Enzo, who, also was staring with narrowed eyes at the bearded man.

"Yeah sure," you gave an awkward glance to both men, realising something was piercing the silent air. "Is something going on?"

"No," Enzo, puffed his chest out, giving Calder little regard as he turned his head. "You go off with your dog, I'm needed elsewhere."

You watched him walk away before turning back to Calder, head tilted. "I'm going to pretend nothing happened there."

"Agreed," Calder affirmed, pointing you towards the deeper parts of the woods where the treelines met and increased in sizes and numbers. "I think I might've found something."

"Lead the way." You gestured for him to take the lead, directing you through the trees. The snow was freshest in these parts, untouched and light, airy. A wonderland was discovered in a small corner forgotten from the world. Beautiful. You marvelled. I will never get bored of seeing this.

"What's wrong, Calder?" He stopped you when the two of you reached the middle of the area, overwatching the large view, the mountains dipped and the view from the top pointed directing to the Oakendenn, situated right in the opening of the valley. "It's right in target," Calder addressed, thick eyebrows knitted. "And that means a direct hit for the snow to collapse in on it all."

"We could have a day, week or years before this region is completely smothered." You noted wretchedly. All these reports, research and hypothesis, yet you felt like it all went to no use. It seemed like everything was too late, that hard work going down the drain. "I wish we could've done more."

"And we have, do not fret," Calder reassured, patting your shoulder that you needed from a comforting friend. "And we will do so much more. Let's head back to the others, keep all together."

Right, but still, I feel useless. You dusted the remaining snow off your warm clothes, trying to remind yourself of the crunching snow below, your foot sinking with every few steps. Like everyone relies on you all the time. The only sounds that were heard were the distinct soft crunches of the two of you heading back, before one wretched and horrid resounded, echoing along with the trees, some birds fleeing from their branches of homes.

You looked back to Calder, who looked back in confusion, listening closely to the cracking of the earth as if it had split open. Your right felt for a second as if it was sinking lower, taking your body with you as all your body weight brought you down so suddenly, snow following too, making your body crash into it with force as you waded chest-deep through it.

Your voice was sudden and nervous, watching the ledge you once stood at grow taller and taller above you, a weightless feeling take over your body, the scream of your name as unknown darkness settled around you before you could hit the ground.

-

The first time you had seen snow, you had been seven, marvelling in wonder with friends at how magical it all seemed. Never did you worry about the eternal cold, of it encasing your entire body and leaving you worthless and alone. You always had the warmth to rely on: warm blankets and hot cocoa and fire to share stories around. The cold was sore and biting, an eternity of nothingness but yourself.

You didn't know how long you had been trapped in darkness: how long you had gone unnoticed or remembered. Maybe this was it... just oblivion and emptiness. You tried to invasion your limbs, your fingers trying to tread through the snow like it was water; too thick to even pass through, but trying and trying to feel your fingers and toes wiggle again.

You clawed and clawed slowly until the darkness lightened and that bleakness turned to hope. You kicked your body out as you breached the surface, coughing and spluttering weakly, an invasion of pure cold and ice felt trapped in your throat.

You laid there with your head against a block of solid ice and snow, trying to steady your breathing, the cold and winds were never-ending, never giving your body a break as all felt numb.

I'm going to die out here. You thought. Will my story be told again? You wanted to laugh, to call for help, but your throat was stinging from its frostiness.

There was a distant, soft sound of tree branches moving and swaying, how the dead leaves swayed and moved with long, drawn moans, wings of small birds flying off from the abrupt noises. The flapping of wings never ceased, ringing in your ears, reminding you didn't have wings yourself to fly off from this nightmare. It was only when you could open your eyes was when you saw the blurred large figure descend in front of you, all feathers and intimidating, you wished to cry out in pain for your misery, but once your eyes focused, did you noticed something familiar about it all.

A rush of feathers, brown and red, as pretty as coppers.

"So, there you are." Enzo's voice was merely a whisper among the howling winds, flapping slowly to the snowy plains in front of you, his body inches from you towering easily over your small frame. You made no noise or voiced your frustration for his words, weakly looking up at him as best as you could.

The blowing winds cast a glow behind his silhouette, watching the Aarakocra bend to kneel in front of you. "Hey," his voice surprised you, a feathered hand on your shoulder, shaking you with almost impatience. "Don't die on me, you hear?"

"Shut up," the words came weakly from you, luring you to sleep, his figure blurring again until you saw three of him, vision dotted. "Enzo..."

"Hush." He wasted no time in collecting you in his arms, cuddling you close to him as he carried you. What shocked you most was how incredibly warm he was, unaffected by the vast cold. You instinctively snuggled closer into his chest, shutting your eyes and shuddering. "Let's get you out of here."

You didn't respond, feeling how there was a surge of air moving around you both, your body growing lighter and head more lightheaded as he flapped his wings, the winds more biting against your exposed face and neck.

The harsh winds or the cold went straight to your head, pulling you in and out of consciousness, wrapped tightly in the arms that allowed you to feel a sense of safety to slip beyond the darkness, to rest your eyes for a moment.

-

There was an aching drive for warmth that slowly spread through you, taking over your body, making you want to drink it in greedily. When your eyes opened once more to a flickering flame, dancing and roaring, filling its beauty in the room. Just opposite you in the small room, knelt Enzo, tending to something he was pouring into a bowl.

"Where are we?" Your voice felt worse with wear, hoarse and not tended to. Enzo flinched, his feathers bright and shimmering against the colour of the flames, making him seem like a risen phoenix, an enigma in your eyes.

In his hands, the bowl was passed to you, his own in hand as he watched you gauge your reaction, before answering, "A cave I found, a few days out from Oakendenn."

"And the others? And Calder-"

"For the love of the Gods, can you for once think about yourself?" His words weren't snappy or aloof, more full of weary and strain. He laughed tiredly. "Honestly, little doctor, do you think before you go out so recklessly?"

Your cheeks rouged at the little nickname, ignoring it for the time being until it would nag the part of your brain for answers. "All in the name of science."

"Yes, well there won't be any science if you're frozen to death." He hesitated momentarily, before slipping a warm blanket around your shoulders, securing it carefully. "You're still a valuable asset."

To who exactly though? You questioned, silently snuggling into the blanket further. There was a strong smell of mint that was strong in your nostrils, pleasant and warm, luring you to tranquillity. It smelt a lot like him somehow, and your heartbeat raced with bashfulness.

You watched from your peripheral, the Aarakocra shuffling to sit beside you properly, his gaze never seeming to leave yours. “You’re doing an awful lot for me, Enzo.” For someone who dislikes me, and I, supposedly too.

But even that seemed like a lie. Enzo scoffed, his laugh light and airy like the frozen air. “Seems to me someone is just enjoying the company.” He shuffled closer to you, awkwardly throwing an arm around you for further comfort. “If you manage to not become a human popsicle, maybe—just maybe, will I show you around my hometown.”

Not only had his soft words thrown you off, but the feeling of his arm around you seemed not to be of great surprise. “What do you mean?” You scrambled for the right words.

“I’ve dealt with a lot of humans in my time, taking them up and down these mountains,” he said. “Not one of them had wildly gone down one of the slopes. You think that can go so smoothly with me and my reputation?”

“Your reputation, huh?” You laughed, spluttering into it when it tickled the back of your throat harshly. Enzo had placed a cup of water on your lips hastily, eyeing you with fake disdain you hoped. “You have a great reputation for the ladies or something?”

“Hmph, if that’s what humans like to think of it, then no.” He snorted, his eyes shifting. In this low, dim light, they seemed to be practically glowing. “Gods, that sounds terrible.”

There was a laugh shared between the two of you for a moment, onlooking the fire soundlessly, an unexpectedly calm atmosphere settling. You sighed, resting against his shoulder, resting your head into the bed of warm feathers, the smell of mint intense. “I’ll take that promise if you’re keeping with it.”

Enzo laughed warmly, shutting his eyes, the body growing slack as he hummed quietly to himself. “That’s good to hear.”

-

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