#this took forever to write and it's so long and for WHAT

[justmeinadaze]

Created a Monster (Steddie X Kas Y/N)

Every time I hear this song this idea pops into my head but it's not what I'm used to writing per say. I wanted you guys to read like a preview and tell me if this is something you'd want more of or a one shot. Or whatever lol Just some feed back :) It's been sitting in my WIP forever but I can't stop thinking about it.

Warning: Steddie X Kas Fem Reader, mentions of grief and how much the boys miss her, I twisted some things from the show obviously. Instead of Eddie fighting, Y/N does. I also read up a bit on Kas so took some lore there. Not really expanded on in this preview but...

Word Count: 1956

Eddie and Steve stare at your gravestone as the preacher continues to spout some nonsense about young souls being angels on Earth and being called back home. No one understood what they were going through not even their friends they had fought with. You were their everything and now… you were gone. 

Steve and Robin sat in the cafeteria of the hospital picking at their food as they waited for Eddie to join them. For the past four months they had been visiting Max while continuing to be moral support for Lucas. Neither boy would let on how jealous they actually were of the former Hellfire member. At least he could still hold his girlfriend’s hand…see her face…kiss her cheek.

“The doctor’s said she’s showing improvement.”, Robin mused as she took a bite of bland rice in front of her. 

“That’s good. She’s a good kid who’s been through too much. She deserves to have a full life.”

His friend nods in understanding, scanning Steve over before reaching for his hand. 

“This is a stupid question but how are you doing?”

“I’m, um, I’m surviving. Eddie’s trying to keep it together for the guys but we’re both kind of floundering.”, he chuckles as he places his fork down and leans back. “I miss her laugh. Every time Munson would tell a joke, she would close her eyes and scrunch her nose… so cute.”

“Yeah, she was.”, his friend softly murmured. “She loved you two more than anything. Y/N would talk about you both nonstop to an annoying degree.”

When Robin playfully rolls her eyes, they both laugh almost uncontrollably until his gradually shift into sobs. Rising to her feet, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and in turn he does the same, his fingers digging almost painfully into her back. 

“I miss her so much.”

***

When both boys finally made it back home, Eddie silently flopped down on the couch as he grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. Since your passing, the metalhead had moved into the living room since their apartment only had one bedroom. Without you between them they saw no point in sharing anymore. Steve never said anything to contradict but he wished his friend had stayed. Even though they were never intimate in the dynamic, he would have rather shared a bed with his friend than be alone. It was just more of a reminder that you were gone. 

“Another group of men were found dead today outside of their homes, stabbed through the chest, and with nothing stolen or motive perceived from Hawkins PD. We reached out to reinstated Chief Hopper for comment but at this time none was given.”

“Something we should be worried about you think?”, Steve asked as he came up behind his friend to watch the tv.

“I mean, as long as they aren’t blaming me, I’d say no.”

“It doesn’t seem like Vecna either. No broken bones or eyes caved in—” Rising to his feet, Eddie hastily turned off the tv and reached for his jacket. “Eddie—”

“I agree. No Vecna. I’m, um, I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Is this how it’s always going to be?! Are we just going to be awkward around each other now? She wouldn’t have wanted that, Ed.”

A smooth, sarcastic laugh escaped the metalhead’s lips as he turned to face his friend. 

“Yeah? Well, I wanted her here and she’s fucking dead. We both don’t get what we want.”

“So, you’re just going to sully her memory like that?”

“Oh, fuck you, Harrington! She’s the one that ran off even though I told her not to move. She’s the one that decided to fight instead of listening to you and not being a hero. She’s the one who DIED IN MY FUCKING ARMS!” As his voice cracked, he paused to collect himself. “Y/N’s gone. She doesn’t get a say anymore.”

With that he turned on his heels and slammed the door. 

“He’s always been really hot headed hasn’t he?”, the vision of you giggles as you kick your feet against the counter. 

Steve never told anyone for fear of coming off as insane but this is how he processed you no longer being around; he pretended you weren’t gone.

“Yeah, just like you.”

“Excuse me! I was stubborn but not ‘hot headed’, jerk.”

His head hung at the word “was” as his bottom lip began to tremble. Jumping off the counter, you slide over till you were just inches from his side. Even though you weren’t really there, he swore he could smell you.

“Steve, baby, look at me. He’ll be ok… you both will.”

Shaking his head, he wiped the tears that had begun to fall but when he moved his hands away the image of you disappeared. 

“I love you, honey. I miss you so much.”

############

Eddie pulled his hood over his head as he powerwalked in what he thought was no particular direction. Even after being exonerated people still scowled and hurled insults his way. The ones that hurt him the most were the ones about you. 

Because they couldn’t bring your body back, it was assumed you had died with everyone else. Your family still held on to hope but in the worst way. You parents used to love him and Steve, treating them both like family but after Chrissy’s death everything shifted. They told you to stay away from him and in turn you told them to fuck off. 

Anytime they saw Eddie, they begged him to tell them where you were or where your body was so they could properly grieve. He ignored them as best he could but it killed him because he knew the truth. That’s something he and Nancy could connect on. Every time she told him about her experiences with Barb it comforted him to an extent. He hoped one day he could give them peace like her friend’s parents got. 

Stumbling over his feet, the metalhead finally took note of his surroundings realizing he had walked to Hawkins Cemetery. Sighing heavily, he gave in and let his feet continue to lead him till he was in front of your plot. 

“Y/N Y/L/N. 1986. Loving Friend, Daughter, and Girlfriend.” 

“Fucking basic shit. You were way more than that.”, he grumbled as he took a seat facing your stone. 

“I’m angry with you; so fucking angry. I told you to go up the rope but you insisted I go so I could catch you like Steve had. I should have known better. How could you do that? How could you leave us like that?!”

“I didn’t do it by choice.”, the vision of you replied in a sad but calm tone as you sat on top of your own stone. Eddie’s jaw tightened as he looked in the opposite direction. “Still ignoring me?”

“You’re not real.”

“True…but it helps Steve. At least that’s what you hope after hearing him talk out loud to me the other night. He really hates being alone, you know? He wants to talk to you but—”

“I can’t talk about you with people. Not yet.”

“Ok, then don’t talk about me. Maybe talk about D&D or Steve’s day. Anything else. Eddie, just because I’m gone doesn’t mean you two stop being friends.”

“Don’t preach to me, babe. I don’t want to hear it.”

“What do you want to hear?”

“Nothing. That’s all I ever fucking hear now. I don’t hear your stories about work or your family. I don’t hear you laughing at my jokes or your sarcasm when you’re making fun of Steve for his lack of movie knowledge. I don’t hear your fucking breath in the middle of the night when you’re sleeping or see you bite your lip when you’re thinking about something complicated. I don’t feel your fingers in my hair when I’m lying on the floor listening to music or your lips against mine. Why, Y/N? Because you’re fucking DEAD!”

The vision of you watched with sympathetic eyes as his shoulders shook and he sobbed in his hands. After a few minutes, he wiped his nose on his sleeve, finding you sitting cross legged in front of him with your knees inches from his own. 

“I don’t know how to live without you, sweetheart.”

“Eddie… I never loved anyone on this planet as much as I loved you and Steve. If it meant keeping you both safe…I would die again.”

“It was our job to protect you.”

“And you did such an amazing job.”

Shaking his head, he glanced towards a tree in the distance before turning your way to find you gone. 

“I love you, baby.”

################

Steve’s eyes snap open at the sound of glass breaking before quickly grabbing his bat and slowly stalking to the kitchen. 

“Jesus Christ!”

“I just go by Eddie but…” They both exasperatedly laughed as the other boy lowered his weapon. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. I just left the cemetery and I didn’t realize it was so fucking late.”

“Did, um, were you going to see her?”

He could have responded sarcastically but your words lingered in his mind. 

“Yeah… I just needed to hash some things out with her.”

“I know how you feel. Sometimes I get really angry at her to but then I get confused because I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Yeah.”, Eddie laughs as well. “Fuck, this sucks.”

As his friend nodded, a shadow on the wall caught the former jocks attention. It looked like a figure but that can’t be right because they were on the fourth floor of their complex. Just as he began to glance to find out what it was, their window shattered causing both men to fall to the ground and cover their heads. 

Steve recovered first, swiftly grabbing his bat and blocking the weapon that begun to swing down towards the metalhead. To his surprise it did stop it but as soon as he pushed the figure back, the bat cut cleanly in half. It took him a few seconds to realize the stranger in front of him was wielding a sword causing him to duck out of the way as the person continued swinging it at him. 

While trying to find something to defend himself with, he heard Eddie call his name and turned just in time to see him slide another sword his way. 

“Isn’t this fake?!”

“Please! We’re nerds! Do you think Y/N and I would buy anything fake!?”

Just as Steve unsheathed the weapon, it clinked loudly against the strangers. Both beings went toe to toe with the pretty boy surprising even himself. He got too cocky, however, lowering his guard just enough for the figure to punch his chest knocking the wind out of him as he fell to the floor. 

The armor the figure was wearing loudly tapped against each other as they stepped forwards and pointed their weapon at Steve’s throat. With wide eyes, he watched as the person took off their helmet and casually tossed it to the ground as their hair fell around their face.

“Y/N?”

The boy whined as you tilted the sharp weapon up towards his chin causing him to stretch his face out of the way. 

“My master sends his regards.”, you hiss as you step back and raise your sword. 

Before you can do anything, something hard collides with your head and you faint to the ground.

“Ok, I’m not dreaming right? Or hallucinating?”, Eddie asked as he reached for Steve’s hand to help him off the ground. 

“No, dude. At least I don’t think so…”

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

xii. twelve: let it go

benedict bridgerton has not left his room for days now. he laid down with his agony, curled on his sheets. his pillow wet in the tears that served as witness of this torment.

most people grieve for those who don't know what they have until it is gone. but, what about those who do know? those who tried their hardest to hold on, yet could only look on helplessly while they lost the thing they loved the most. isn't it so much worse for them?

how many sleepless nights now, he does not know. when they were together, he avoided sleep so he could have more time with her. and now that she is gone, he wishes to sleep more so he might know fewer hours of her absence, and perhaps, spend longer in dreams with her.

it took him days to even talk, forgetting his own voice as he got so familiar with his cries. he wanted to be happy but found it painfully hard as her love was his happiness.

yet, what if love is not here to make us happy? perhaps, it exists to show us how much we can endure.

but benedict did not want to endure anymore.

for the first time in a long while, he was terrified. oh, how terrifying to face the future without the one you planned it with. how can you wake up from a nightmare if you are not asleep?

someone knocked on his door, one that he has recognised as anthony's knuckles by the firmness of the sound. he did not want to stay on his bed forever, so he desperately pushed himself out, trying to see what has been of the others. he neared to open the door slightly ajar before sitting down on a couch defeatedly, his brother surprised by the turning of the knob.

he stepped in, noting the desolateness of the room. he wanted to be there for him, but losing a loved one you were never able to fully love was a different kind of pain—one that anthony was not familiar with at all.

so, he did the only task he was left with. he walked to him, giving the pad he has been holding unto to his younger brother.

"her journal," he maintained his voice in a serene one, seemingly afraid that anything higher would trigger something from the other.

benedict turned to him at that with shock. he did not know she writes. he often thought the girl preferred saying her thought out loud than put it to paper. he opened it, reading from entry to entry, word by word.

a small snicker left his lips when the most he could read about was how the young little silva had fun infuriating him. it was clear on her handwriting—the curve of the letters, the stretch of its end. she was full of excitement when she was writing this. it was written in her point of view. he turned the twelfth page over, only to find that no entry follows anymore.

"why did she stopped writing when she was eight?" he turned to the older, eyes still with traces of redness. it was around the time armand had snitched his daughter to benedict, saying that the girl likes him.

"she said there was no longer a need to write what she felt because she can say it to you directly." anthony offered him a small smile, leaning down to turn the pages to the last, "she wrote on the day she left for the parliament."

the viscount watched as his brother traced each word with his fingers, afraid that it would be lost before he even realises it. noticeably, this one is written in the way her words talked to him directly. anthony placed a hand on his shoulder before stepping back again.

"i guess she knew she could no longer say it to you again."

my artsy,

i think i have loved you since i met you. i just mistook it for curiosity.

there are so many forms of love, and although it may have begun unromantically, i knew you were someone special to me. i would like to apologize—for coming into your life just to break your heart to pieces and leave you in the night.

i really would have loved to be able to attend the astronomical convention with you. we spent a night talking about it. if i knew i will not even get to go, i would have rathered spent the time with my lips in yours.

and so, if regrettably, the gods had it planned that this life of mine will never be enough to show you all my love, i promise—i will find you in another. and hopefully then, i still wouldn't run out of love and continue to pester you on to the next, and next, and for eternity.

because my love, we were never a match made in heaven. i am afraid afraid we are made in both far ends of the farthest cosmos.

and i will search every star, every galaxy, every universe, and every timeline until i find you.

know that i love you, down to my last word.

until we meet again,

forever your loraine

he pushed the pad farther from his eyes, afraid that the ink would smudge and her words can no longer be read. he held his head down, anthony going to his side at once and offered an arm at him.

benedict leaned weakly to him. he had told her before, and now it became his reality. the young lady was a fire—his fire—and he does not find himself worrying even if she will burn him. despite her absence, she still set him ablazed. he longs for nothing but her. how many life does he have to burn before he lives with her? and he could almost hear a whisper.

a hundred more. just a hundred more.

and he almsot felt relieved at that. a hundred more would be nothing. he was even prepared to burn thousands. that was how bewitched he was.

she was lovely—extremely, completely, entirely.

yet, even if it is full of love, all a ghost can do is haunt.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the following day, lady bridgerton could not hold it anymore. her son was spiralling away. she missed him. so, she ascended their stairs, aiming for the room of the said son.

anthony has told her that he was, at the very least, responsive. she did not want her son to be reduced as someone thankfully responsive. benedict has always been full of colors.

he was an art himself.

she knocked, turning the knob and was surprised it was not locked. violet entered slowly, seeing the figure behind a canvas.

she called out to him, "my son, come with us."

there was no response, continuing to walk towards the man. entering the room fully, she could see random sketches of the young silva.

picking up a paper, his mother commented, "she was beautiful."

violet could hear a small hum from her son, still not tearing his gaze away from the art he is currently working on, "she will forever be."

she warmly smiled at that. the son who has repeatedly told her before that what she and edmund had was rare, now utterly taken beyond mortal relations.

she placed an arm around his shoulders for comfort as she took a look at the painting, "you love her so much."

he added a detail on her features, "if i could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint."

her heart broke for his son she almost felt like it was her fault. maybe, that was why the two met each other and loved each other when they were still too young. they were not meant to grow older together.

she placed a peck on top of his head, "will you come out with us soon?"

benedict placed down his brush, exhaling defeatedly. nonetheless, he turned to his mother with a weak smile, "after i finish this."

violet nodded at that before giving him back his solitude. it took quite the days before he completed the artwork. the sun rose and set, yet the stars only dimmed.

on the night he finally finished the painting, the dead of night was clear and the stars began to find their shine once again. a hopeful thought graced his mind.

perhaps, someday, somewhere, at a less miserable time, they will see each other again.

he turned to his table, scrambling to get a paper and pen. he will not let the night go on as if it was just any other night. this darkness shined a light, one he only recognised when the girl was present. and maybe, you can call it a pathetic attempt of hope, it was the young silva watching him as his hand gripped the pen.

my loraine,

i will remember you longer than i knew you, and i will never come to terms with that.

thus, i will find you when you return, even if you are a thousand years late.

give me your permission and i will continue to love you in another. believe that i will run amock across the universe until i find you.

and so, when you see the world ending in the newspapers, trust that it is my work because i still have not met you again.

let us make us happen, some other time.

until we meet again,

forever your artsy

perhaps, they were right in putting love into books and poems—perhaps, it could not live anywhere else. they did say that everything will be fine in the end. and if it isn't, then it is not the end yet.

he has learned that grief is not accepting that she died. it is acknowledging that she is still alive in everything that he does.

and so he hopes—he hopes that all this grief stays with him because it is all the unexpressed love that he did not get to tell her. he will never let this go.

indeed, what is grief if not love persevering.

the pain will remind them of each other. when they meet later, if there is a later, they will recognise each other by it.

and just because this life is painful, it does not mean the next one will be.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @myo11 @idek-what-to-put @aysamuka

[dia-souls]

📓 Rukiyui fanfic 📓

Pairing: Ruki 📓 and Yui🌸

Author: Admin Afra

Genre: Romance, Dramatic

TW: Tragedy ending, mentally issues

Admin's Note: Returning to writing after several months is like a dream for me. This is my first fanfic after several months. I'm so glad to be back and I hope you like it.

With Her Memories

The sunrise seemed brighter than ever. A gentle breeze was blowing and gently shaking the curtain of the room. The sound of soft laughter could be heard in the room, which was like the joy of a happy couple.

The breeze became stronger and was shaking the blonde girl's golden hair. Her face looked like a goddess with the sunlight shining through the window of the room, and her laugh was beautiful and full of life like spring flowers. She was in the arms of the man she loved more than anyone else and was smiling gently at him while holding his hand.

Yui: Wow.... my god, that was really beautiful. This was the best story I have ever read.

Ruki: It wasn't bad. It was not bad as a romance book. But there are many better books that have a higher story potential. I think I should read some better books for you to get acquainted with the real spirit and violence of the world.

Yui: .... Ummmmmm.... Ruki, this is too much. This is just a book. I think you took it very seriously.

Ruki: True, but I prefer to read better and more useful books than ordinary and weak romance stories.

Hearing Ruki's words, Yui puffed her cheeks and turned her head away from Ruki as a sign of displeasure.

Yui: Do you know what? You are not romantic at all. I thought that after reading this book, you will also be motivated to kiss me?

Ruki: What do you mean?

Yui: It doesn't matter. You can't be romantic.

Ruki smirked and put the book away. He gently placed Yui, who was still in his arms, on the bed and brought his head close to her. So close that their lips were only a few millimeters apart.

Ruki: Do you want to see a romantic man? I will be the most romantic man in the world for you, Yui.

Ruki placed his lips on Yui's soft lips and kissed her gently.

*smooch* *smooch*

Ruki: ... mmm... nn... Yui, your existence is as important to me as the whole world. I will give you whatever you want.

Yui: Ruki, we are not going to be separated again. Right?

Ruki: Never. If the world comes to an end, if my heart is separated from my body, if I have to go to hell or if I have to die, I will not let anyone take you away from me. You are mine forever, Yui.

Yui smiled softly and wrapped her arms around Ruki's neck and snuggled into his arms. She was holding Ruki tightly and smiling. It was the best feeling in the world. The feeling that Ruki once lost because of the vampire king and had to pay a heavy price to get it back. But it doesn't matter at all. He is now with his beloved Yui and that is all that matters to him.

Ruki: ... Yui always stay in my arms. Always give me this warmth and love. Please never leave me alone again.

Yui: Ruki by my side. I promise to be by your side forever.

Ruki was still hugging Yui. He did not want to separate this love and warmth from himself. It was the best feeling in the world. He never wanted to lose this feeling. Yui was the girl who lit up his dark heart. He never wants to lose this light and warmth.

After a few short minutes of them being in each other's arms, Ruki pushed Yui onto the bed and looked into her bright eyes and smirked.

Ruki: Well Yui... let's continue.

He pressed his lips to Yui's soft lips again and continued to kiss her. A deep and long kiss that left a trail of love saliva.

Ruki: You don't have to be jealous of fictional characters. I will be the most romantic man in the world for you.

Yui: Hahaha... Ruki, you are so cute when you are jealous.

Ruki: Huh? Don't you think you are the jealous one here? Hahaha, I won't let you be jealous, my angel.

Yui: Ruki... I love you.

Ruki: Me too Yui. I love you. As much as the world and even more than that. I love you more than anyone, my sweet angel.

Ruki continued to kiss Yui. The sound of their sweet laughter could be heard and the golden color of the evening made it more dreamy. It was all Ruki's world. A world that he never wanted to lose.

*TIMESKIP *

A beautiful morning started with a bright sunrise. The sunlight on the bright face of the blonde girl looked like a dream and it was like an angel on earth. The goddess who was sleeping peacefully in the heart of her lover.

Ruki slowly opened his eyes as the sunlight hit his eyes. He saw Yui sleeping like an angel in his arms. It was the most beautiful sight in the world and Ruki didn't want to spoil it.

He gently pushed Yui's hair away from her eyes with his finger and kissed her forehead. He caressed her cheek with his finger and called her name softly.

Ruki: Yui... my beautiful angel please wake up.

Hearing Ruki's voice, Yui slowly opened her eyes.

Yui: Mmm... Good morning Ruki.

Ruki: Good morning Yui. Come one, let me help you to put on your clothes.

Yui tried to get up but the laziness of sleep stopped her. Until Ruki heard Yui's stomach rumbling.

Ruki: Haha... Yui, are you hungry?

Yui: Hmmm... Ruki, can we have breakfast first and after that we get ready. I'm still tired.

Ruki smiled softly and kissed Yui's forehead again and caressed her.

Ruki: Of course we can. You rest here while I go to the kitchen and make you a great breakfast. You just wait for me.

Ruki kissed Yui one last time and left the room. He was going to the kitchen to make breakfast for his dear Yui. The thought that Yui was still alive and breathing kept him alive and he didn't care at all if Yui lost the ability to walk.

He was cooking with a smile and thinking about Yui. Yui's thoughts kept him calm. It kept him alive and happy.

Ruki was still cooking. He prepared a large dish full of delicious ingredients and proudly looked at his work of art until Kou entered the kitchen. Kou was very surprised to see Ruki in the kitchen. Ruki rarely came out of his room. Recently, he only stayed in his room and did not want to see his brothers.

Kou: Uh.... Ruki-kun. You finally decided to come out of your room. Hahahahaha, I haven't seen you in a long time, it seems like today is the last day of the world.

Ruki: Ahhhhh... that joke wasn't funny.

Kou: Come on, Ruki, do you know how long it is.... Oh, look at this big and delicious dish. Ruki did you make this?

Ruki: Of course. Ehat do you think?

Kou: Umm....it looks really delicious ok so let me try it. I'm very hungry.

Ruki: Don't even think about it, it's not for you.

Kou: Ohhhh.... Ruki, don't be stingy. You can't eat this alone.

Ruki: This is for Yui, not me. She is very weak. I have to give her good food to regain her health. Do you understand?

Kou: ....??? Yui...???

Ruki: Of course. Well, I have to go now. Yui is waiting for me.

Kou: Ruki.... listen.... Yuma and Azusa and I miss you two so much. It is better to come out of your room. We would like to see you two more.

Ruki: Sure... I miss you too, but Yui is more important now. You forgot? She can't walk. I will take care of her until she recovers. Now I have to go back to her faster.

After Ruki finished his sentence, he picked up a silver tray full of delicious food and went to his room.

*knock knock*

Ruki entered the room and saw that Yui was still sleeping. He turned to Yui and placed the food tray on the table. He kissed Yui's forehead to wake her up.

Ruki: Yui, wake up, I made you a delicious breakfast.

Ruki was gently smelling Yui's hair and whispering to wake her up and Yui was giggling. Yui's eyes were still closed but she was laughing. Ruki stroked her again to wake her up.

Yui: Ruki... come lie down next to me. Let's sleep together again. After we wake up, we eat breakfast.

Ruki smiled softly and lay down next to Yui. He held her in his arms and buried his head in her soft hair. He smelled her smell and fell into a dream paradise. This heat and this smell was the best feeling in the world.

Meanwhile, the Mukami brothers in the living room:

Yuma: So it happened again?

Kou: I was very happy after seeing Ruki come out of his room. But it seems that it is not yet time to be happy. And I don't think there will ever be a time to be happy.

Azusa: You mean... we... lost our... brother?

Yuma: Who cares? As long as Ruki is fine and smiling, let him stay like that. Even if he stays next to a body that is not breathing. This at least keeps him alive and that's enough.

The room was getting hotter and hotter. It was almost noon and Yui was still sleeping. She had been sleeping in her Ruki's arms for years. Her eyes were opened only for Ruki and her smile was visible only for Ruki. Maybe she would never breathe again, but Ruki could feel her breath and warmth and hear her smile, and that was enough for him.

Yui was sleeping in Ruki's arms. Ruki was embracing his life. They were sleeping next to each other and no one knew when they would wake up.

[incandescentwarmth]

If you do Jily how about James fucking Lily's cramps away

If yyou don't do Jily, then the same with Trans!Reggie

Or maybe.... Both? Jegulily? Maybe? 👀

Sorry this took me forever nonnie!! I actually already have this with jegulus here! (And there may or may not be more coming on this topic)

I do write both and since I made you wait so long here is both jily and jegulily

Jily:

Anyways, it's a little awkward at first. They're both comfortable with the it and understand that it will get a little messy but they still don't want to ruin their sheets. James is so sweet though, he laid out some towels and arranged the pillows around the bed so she would be comfortable. He's kissing her everywhere, her lips, her jaw, her shoulders, her boobs, her tummy, her thighs. God how James loves her thighs. It's nice but Lily is getting impatient, one, because his lips and tongue were getting her worked up and his position between her legs was stopping her from getting any friction to hold her over, and two, because as much as she was enjoying this there were still cramps rolling through her lower stomach and it was hard not to tense and curl up in pain. So she tells James to hurry it up, making sure he knows she loves what he's doing but needing him to get one with it. So he does, he's gentle with it as he fucks into her, holding tightly to her hips to keep them in place. It’s so soft and loving and they’re both basking in each other’s bodies. The pain is lessening a bit and James is a good distraction and the two get lost in each other. Lily comes first, then James, and then he helps her finish again with his fingers. The two go to clean up together, James gets fresh pajamas for them straight from the dryer and they cuddle together for the rest of the evening.

Jegulily:

Lily's been grumpy all day. It felt like something was trying to claw it's way out of her stomach and she wanted nothing to do with anything not involving laying in bed. James was giving her a massage, sitting behind her and rubbing her shoulders the way she liked. It didn't stop her from doubling over and grabbing her stomach but at least it felt good between the waves of pain. Neither of them had noticed Reg standing in the door watching them but when they did, they couldn't miss the dark look in his eyes. Reg couldn't be blamed though, Lily had her shirt off and watching James’s oil covered hands working against the muscles was a sight to be seen. Reg sauntered over, he was only wearing a pair of sweats, and climbed onto the bed to kiss his girlfriend. He's biting and needy with it, teasing her "do Jamie’s hands feel good, love?" She's biting her lip and nodding her head, looking Reg over. He sits back up, hooking his hands in his waistband and lowering it to reveal the harness that was already situated on his waist. "If you want, it helps? James and I tried it once for me." He asks, clear in what he's referring to. Lily just nods her head again and Reg stands to finish taking off his pants and getting himself ready. He's climbing back on the bed over her again and gives her kiss, then James, and then Lily again while his hands wander up Lily's legs. He gets to her pussy and is running his fingers over her clit in a way that makes her whimper from the back of her throat. "His hands must really feel good." He teases. Lily whines and tips her head back to see James blushing. She can feel him hard against her back. "Please Reg, just... I'm ready." Regulus, with his strap situated nicely against him pushes into her quickly, bottoming out and forcing the air from her lungs. He’s quick and hard like he always his and it’s perfect for Lily. The feeling takes over her and all she can think and feel anymore is her partner moving inside her and her other pressed hard against her back, letting out quiet noises from the friction. They are so in tune with each other as their bodies build and build until they’re all falling over the edge. They all take some time to breathe and then Regulus is helping to clean them all up and James is rubbing Lily’s temples as she finally is able to nap for a bit in relief

[damn-stark]

Final chapter the last ballad of the Fallen

Final chapter of Sugar

A/N- Thank you so much for staying tuned to this series and giving it so much love, I appreciate every single one of you that gave me the motivation to keep writing! I love you all so much, thank you and I really hope you like this last chapter!!

Warning- FLUFF!!! talks of death and violence, SPOILERS!!!!

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode and or chapters- none

————

Dear Satoru,

It’s been 6 months since the fall of Sukuna. It’s been six months since the merger and curses and cursed techniques as we know them have been eradicated.

You would think the world would know some kind of peace without getting terrorized by beasts. You would assume that the Jujutsu society as you know it would collapse with no true relevance behind it anymore, but roots can’t truly die without yanking them out of the ground.

How poetic of me I know, you’d laugh at me until you heard the whisperings I’ve heard about a fallen sorcerer taking a grip on the power-hungry minds of our old world, with no promise for revival of our power, just a promise of control, security, justice, and a grander eternity, a better society.

They’re all true markings of a messiah, a god, a prophet, a savior.

You would think they wouldn’t believe it, we’re too smart for that, aren’t we? But they all bow at the feet of none other than your little sister.

It seems she truly took something from Suguru. Maybe we should blame him for feeding her his crap. But then again all he would be is glad that she’s becoming the leader he only dreamed of becoming.

If only you were here, Satoru, you would have stopped her before she even could start scheming. Now who will stop her?

All the big sorcerer families follow her because they fear losing their control and power, even the quiet Inumaki family have a lot to say about her now since she turned them into one of the big three after the extinction of the Zen’in’s. And the Kamo’s are no better.

You would think Choso would stop her, and knock some sense into her, but maybe I’m expecting too much from him, he follows her blindly. Not even Yuji could convince him to talk to her, the boy is neither here nor there. He’s neutral, and why wouldn’t he be? He lost a lot. A promise for a greater tomorrow is tempting, even to me, but I couldn’t follow her. She doesn’t even talk to me, I don’t know how long she’ll stay mad at me. Maybe forever?

All I know about her is things I hear from whispers of other people; Kirara, or Yuji, but even that’s rare since I don’t really see them anymore.

What I do know is that what she’s doing is kind of working I admit that. After all, you paved the way after you killed the higher-ups. I would scold you over the outcome, but you’re not here so I’ll let you off and actually tell you that you’re having a niece and nephew; Tsukuyomi and Suki, did she ever tell you the names she and Choso picked?

I’m sorry I don’t know more, I wish I did, I wish I knew why she’s doing what she’s doing at great risk to her beloved peaceful life. Control? Power? Fear of being weak? I don’t know, I’m sorry. I really am.

That’s all I wanted to tell you this time, it’s something I couldn’t say out loud. And even if you’ll never read this it helped.

Yours truly, Shoko.

——

*YOU*

You can hear it, the cries of regret and sorrow echoing from the fire.

You can smell the smoke and flesh like something out of an apocalypse. But what is terror compared to the adrenaline rushing through your veins as people bow at your feet, in the same way, non-sorcerers would bow to Suguru?

Even if they are escaping their demise you still stand tall over the people accepting the way things need to be.

After desiring nothing but a better world for most of your life, finally you’re seeing that dream come true.

And yes there is an argument that can be had over the fact that cursed techniques and the power behind cursed energy are gone forever, but nothing changes who you all are and the society you were all born into. Everyone bowing sees that, you see that, and the people you love see that.

“Today marks an end to the old world,” you announce proudly to the crowd of ex-sorcerers. “Today marks the beginning of change and the start of our new world. We may not have our power, but we still know who we are, no one can take that away,” you trail on softer, causing murmurs to spread throughout the crowd.

“We will not fall. We will not be forgotten, we will live on as a greater society, better than the one the higher-ups and the old stubborn heads of our clans forced us to live under,” you don’t falter or let your confidence slip. Your smirk holds your glory, and your eyes shout your pride as well as your gentleness and sincerity.

Yet there’s a drop in your voice, one only Choso, Kirara, and Hakari can detect. “Part of it is due to…my brother, the wielder of the six eyes, and the limítless technique, Satoru Gojo,” you pause and sigh, as well as feel a weight fall on your frail chest. “He paved the way when he got rid of the higher-ups once and for all. He wanted a better world for the next generation, for the students he taught and cherished, and for the people he loved. He’s gone now but his will will not be forgotten, not by me. He’s part of the reason why I stand here…as well as for the ones I've lost, the ones treated unfairly because of what they were,” you mention and remember Nanako and Mimiko before you glance at Choso to speechlessly let him know that his brothers were in mind when you spoke those words.

“The ones snubbed,” you continue and now meet the gazes of Hakari and Kirara so they know you haven’t forgotten them or the treatment they were put under. When you look back at the ground you aim to portray the same sincerity so they know you mean what you’re saying and so that they can trust you.

“…And for all of you. Today marks the start of a new world for all of us!” You exclaim and grin, and much to your surprise the crowd erupts with excitement after a promise of a new tomorrow where the power they wield doesn’t really have to die. They’ll never know true power anymore, but thanks to what you promise they’ll never know the true loss of control or be as frail as the true non-sorcerers.

That should make you happy too—you are, you’re proud. You look at Choso standing beside you and find comfort and joy in holding his hand. You glance over at Kirara, Harkari, Larue, Miguel, and the rest of your family and you’re happy that you can keep your word for a better tomorrow, but when you see the mirage of your brother standing in front of the crowd, nothing takes away from the loneliness that surrounds you.

You’re isolated in a sea of solitude without him. You thought it would go away when Choso came back to life because that’s when it really sunk in, but this loneliness is deep and scarred in your bones with the only cure being your brother.

But you can’t live like that, you can’t wait for someone who won’t return, so you lead this change in your society, but the only thing that changed is seeing him standing there watching you.

Doesn’t he understand you're doing this all for him?

——

*10 YEARS LATER*

Dear Dad,

We’ve returned to our beach house in Italy, it’s been a few days since we got here. I’m sorry I haven’t caught up with you lately, life is pretty busy being the eldest of four siblings. It makes me think that Nanako and Mimiko had it easy with me when I was young.

As always I much prefer my time away from Japan, even if it is where I was born, it stopped feeling like home when you died. I didn’t realize that uneasiness until I got older. Plus with the Zen’in bastards demanding to pick up the family title and take the lands from Maki, Mother was pretty busy, it was only until a few weeks ago that she was able to find peace once again.

Now Maki still holds her family title and the lands that belong to her. And don’t worry, Kinji and Kirara stand in my mother's stead while she’s here. With them in Japan, the bastards won’t try to take advantage of her being on vacation. Actually, I don’t think it’s possible that they’ll try anything again, Mother made sure of it.

I only hope I am half the leader she is when it’s my turn to lead. Only two years left. Of course, mother says I can take my time, she doesn’t mind, but I know she’s exhausted, she can’t hide it from me anymore, I’m 16 now. And how could I delay mothers' hard work? She’s paved the way for me to step up and take my rightful place, I’m the future.

Or at least Mother says that’s what our people see when they look at me…if I’m honest I’m quite nervous, I wish you could comfort me.

One day right?

Anyway, speaking of mother, since we’ve gotten to our beach house mother has been lost in her thoughts a lot. She’s been more quiet than usual, she’s usually so happy and relaxed when she’s away from prying eyes and work, but ever since we’ve gotten here it seems like she’s…I don’t know, sad?

Maybe it’s her technique, she says she never regrets giving up her technique to save Choso’s life, but I see her, like I see her now out by the calm shore.

She misses the feel of the water embracing her, and I don’t mean the water we see around us, the small droplets of water not visible to the naked eye. She misses the fire's warmth under her skin, she misses the gentleness of the earth, and the whispers of the breeze. I know she does, I’m looking at her now, standing on the shore, letting the waves unfurl over her feet as she watches the horizon longingly.

I wish I could find something to say to her, like you always did—but then again, there Choso goes to her with little Ryusei in hand, and the moment they meet her at shore she smiles with all the endearment and joy, as if she’d give it all away without a thought just to live to see these moments.

But I still wonder what it is that has her so lost in thought…

Maybe I’ll ask her, what do you think?

Anyway, that's all for now. I’ll talk to you soon.

Love always, Satori

——

*YOU*

When is this loneliness supposed to go away? After ten years, the grief is supposed to turn to just simple memories and deep longing for the ones you lost, but the grief for Satoru still plagues you as if you had just lost him.

Why?

You grieved Suguru and came to peace with his loss. You were able to make peace with the loss of your twins and Kiyoshi. You grieved and moved from all those you lost. Choso, who has a big heart and spent a hundred and fifty years with his brothers was able to move on from his grief, but you can’t move past missing your brother.

You see him everywhere you go, no matter how far. He haunts your mind, and your dreams, and from time to time he plagues your happiness and turns it to ashes in your mouth.

You can be happy, you find your joy in many things, like Choso and all your children; and yes that includes Kirara and Hakari too. So you can be happy, but Satoru has left you living your worst fear. He’s left you alone for all eternity, and no matter how much you want to shake it, that ill feeling stays with you as if it were a part of you.

You do try to find a solution to your solitude, but it’s not in the breeze, or in the warm salt water that washes over your feet. It's not in the warm dancing flames or in the gentle earth. It lies in the grave with him. That’s your lifelong punishment…

You sigh deeply and longly, missing the approaching footsteps hitting the sand because of the waves crashing against shore. You don’t get alerted of the approaching presence until you hear a sweet voice call out to you. “Mama!”

You immediately find a reason to smile and when you turn around there they are like a light at the end of a tunnel, Choso and Ryusei.

“You’re finally awake!” You fawn over your 2-year-old child.

“You looked quite lonely out here,” Choso says as if he can read your mind. “So we thought we’d join you.”

You meet them halfway once they get close to shore and take Ryusei from Choso’s hold.

“You okay?” Choso presses, making your smile falter, but you don’t let Ryusei see it, you keep your smile plastered and that happy gleam in your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m just lost in thought,” you don’t lie since he knows you too well, and he also helps you in your lowest moments. You don’t want to lose that because you want to spare him from knowing your complex feelings; you'll talk to him in the same way he talks with you when it’s just the two of you alone.

“Hm,” Choso comprehends and closes the gap left between him and you to cup your cheek and caress your soft flesh.

“It’s a good thing we came when we did then, hm, Ryu?”

Said boy ignores his father and fiddles with the locket hanging off your neck.

“He hangs out too much with Yuji, don’t you, little one?” You tease him and tickle his belly, making him giggle before he searches the area.

“Uncle Yuji?” Ryusei now asks hopefully.

Choso shakes his head. “He’s not here yet, he’s coming tomorrow,”

Ryusei holds his father's gaze as the gears in his mind turn. He seems to understand the meaning but looks disappointed nonetheless.

“Maybe tonight we sleep outside?” You direct at Choso and bounce your eyebrows.

“Like in the grass?”

You look at him seriously before you snort and break into a lively chuckle. “No, silly, like in a tent. After we have a nice late-night picnic?”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” you nod with a grin. “I want to talk to you.”

Choso blinks and immediately stiffens. “About?” He probes.

You glance at the little boy in your arms and then back at Choso and shoot him a taunting smirk. “You’ll have to wait won’t you?”

Choso sighs and rolls his eyes. “It better be something worthwhile. You always leave me hanging.”

You giggle and lean towards him. “Aw baby, don’t worry,” you tease him. “We’re not breaking up. It’s not that talk.”

“Tsk.”

“Tsk,” Ryusei mocks his father, making both Choso and you look at your son quietly before you can’t help but feed into his habit by laughing. Ryusei laughs along with you but he’s quick to stray away and go limp, like a dead body, meaning he wants to be put down.

He’s so dramatic.

“All right, all right,” you trail off and put him down on the sand, but stay crouched to be at his level.

“Want to put your feet in the water?” You ask as you plant your palm on the sand and let him watch the wave roll over your hand before it gently pulls away.

Ryusei sees that it’s not hurting you so he bends down to mimic you and place his palm on the sand. As the wave takes a second to approach he looks back at Choso cautiously, but your husband shows no fear to reassure the boy.

“It’s okay,” Choso tells him. “It won’t hurt you this time.”

After being shoved back by a rough wave Ryusei has been very cautious about stepping back into the ocean or lake. He likes baths just fine, it’s just these large bodies of water that he’s grown very cautious over, so ever since then you’ve been trying to pull that fear out of him as best as you can without the abilities that once would wow Nanako, Mimiko, and Satori when they were children.

Albeit it's hard, it’s safe to say Ryusei wouldn’t have inherited your elemental technique if those still existed. Perhaps not even blood manipulation, he’s too gentle for it. Maybe something new, but who knows now.

Nevertheless, the wave finally rolls back in, but the moment the water submerges Ryusei’s hand he shrieks and quickly throws himself on you to escape such an evil element.

“Oh,” you coo and stifle your laugh. “It’s okay, the water is a good friend.”

You wrap your arm around him and lean in to press a kiss on his cheek, but Ryusei immediately pulls away as if you’ve done something horrible and wipes away your kiss.

“That’s mean Ryu,” Choso remarks, but the boy ignores him and instead points at his dad, meaning one thing, so you can’t help but flash a flustered smile before you give him what he wants and lean towards Choso to give him a juicy kiss on his lips, making Choso beam at you, and Ryusei giggle and cling onto you.

If this had been Amaterasu when she was Ryusei’s age, she would have smacked you for giving her dad so much affection in front of her. She was very clinging to Choso when she was younger, she still is, but less so because she’s 6 now. “She’s a big girl”, she says—Whatever, Daddy’s girl.

Nonetheless, just as you're thinking of the girl, she comes over running as if your thoughts had summoned her.

“Daddy! Mom! Suki and Tsu are fighting!”

Of course, peace is merely a dream now in your house, and it seems that as the older they get the chaos only gets wilder. But you can’t complain, they’re the reason you smile.

“They listen to you,” Choso immediately tells you as the shouting approaches.

“Yeah because I put my foot down,” you remind him of your stricter ways. “But I don’t think they need me to intervene yet.

“You’ll ground them ma?” Amaterasu immediately searches for strife. “I told them you would, Tsu pulled Suki's hair!”

You and Choso share a knowing look before drifting your focus to Suki and Tsukuyomi approaching whilst they’re in the midst of an argument of whodunit.

“Why do you always act so grown!” Suki shouts after her brother. “You never listen to me, I didn’t do it!”

Baby Ryusei turns to watch his siblings as they get closer with way too much amusement.

“Mom!” Tsukuyomi calls out for you and picks up his pace when he spots you close to the shore. “Mom, Suki—”

“Yeah snitch to mommy, mommas boy,” Suki grumbles with no attempt to actually be discreet, which in turn causes Tsukuyomi to halt dead in his tracks and spin on his heels to let his twin sister come to a skidding stop so he can pull her hair in the blink of an eye.

Ryusei bursts out laughing as if it’s the funniest thing in the world, while Tsukuyomi exclaims at his sister. “Shithead!”

Suki grabs his wrist and doesn’t get discouraged, she snaps back just as fiercely. “Amaterasu said that because it’s true,” she snickers, and the youngest girl lunges towards them to lie and defend herself.

“No, I didn’t! Daddy,” she drags Choso in. “I didn’t say it!”

Choso brushes his bangs back and walks over to break up the fight, you would go but it would just turn into a family brawl so you stay back and watch with slight amusement that might be too provoking in the sensitive situation, but you can’t help it. Besides, Satori walks over to join in the chaos and feeds you the correct intel.

“Suki and Amaterasu read Tsukuyomi’s journal and accidentally made it known by dropping water on some pages.”

Oh, sweet Amaterasu is such a good liar. You can imagine where she inherited such a habit, but you don’t want to even think of him. If Choso was okay with lying, he would tell his kids he and his brothers were gifted to his mother by some divine miracle, but if the kids ask he’s as honest as he can be. He’s too sweet to them, and as much as it bothers you at times, you can’t stay bothered or tell him to change, you love, love! that Choso is such a sweet and caring father, but sometimes it makes you the bad guy because you’re the one that disciplines them, but you don’t mean any harm and they know that when the storm passes. And as long as they do you’re okay with being the stricter parent, all you want is for them to have a sweet Father who isn’t afraid to love them.

You and Choso never had a caring father, so you want them to know a father's love, the same way Satori still cherishes Suguru’s unconditional love.

“Are you okay?” Satori breaks you away from the tension.

“Hm?” You probe in confusion.

Satori brushes her hair behind her ear and swallows back nervously before repeating herself. “Are you okay?”

You’re worried that she perhaps saw you outside wallowing in your solitude, but you’re also caught off guard because as you stare into her dark eyes you fail to see your little girl, she’s so grown up now; so much more mature and aware. It scares you that she’s so big, but you can’t help but be in awe too.

And as much as you want to hide your problems to spare her, you know that because she’s getting older she can bear more than she could when she was a child. So with some hesitance, you actually speak the sad truth. “I just miss Satoru, that's all.”

You briefly hold her gaze and see joy in her eyes because you confided in her, but you also catch pity for you too.

“Well,” she speaks softly. “It’s like Choso says, he lives inside us now, right?”

You sigh deeply and nod stiffly. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s just hard sometimes you know?”

“Hm, yeah I miss my dad all the time,” she says, making you close the gap between you to wrap your arm around her shoulder and pull her into a partial embrace.

Ryusei sees what’s happening and hugs your neck while he watches his father talk to the kids. You watch him too with a smile filled with pride and glee, but you also watch him with impatience because of what you have planned for the two of you later when the house is asleep and you finally have time to yourselves.

With four kids in the house, your time alone isn’t as common, so your escapes to be alone are special, especially the ones you plan because he always likes to beat you to the punch.

Nevertheless, what should’ve been a nice and passionate date outside under the clear night-littered sky, is ruined. Not by your children, but by rain that caught you by surprise and ruined your camping plans.

“Damn it! This sucks!” You whine.

Choso watches the rain fall over the tent and chuckles softly, making you pout.

“I told you it was going to rain today,” he remarks in amusement.

“It smells like rain doesn’t mean a thing,” you mock him and turn away from the back door to try and think of a quick solution that doesn’t involve just returning to your room and doing something there.

“Here,” Choso offers before he speed walks past you to exit the room, but then quickly return with your picnic box that you had pre-boxed while Ryusei ate his dinner.

“As much as I do enjoy a good time in the rain, we are more fragile now,” you remind him as if it hasn’t been a decade since you lost your techniques. “And as much as I do like taking care of you while you’re sick, please don’t do it on purpose.”

Choso shoots you a smirk before setting the box down, and pulling a blanket and candles out without letting your gaze go the entire time. And this time instead of interjecting you excitedly watch him extend the blanket in front of the glass door, and light the candles with a single match.

When he sits down he points to the empty spot across from him and you beam at him with admiration before plopping down and blurt the love you can’t contain. “See,” you whisper so sweetly that honey oozes off your voice. “I needed you.”

Through the candlelight you see Choso’s cheeks grow red the same way they did when you first met.

Even so, however, he doesn’t hold back either, he looks at you with never-ending love and admiration and fills the silence with sweet words. “And I’m glad my 150 years led me to you.”

You gasp softly and hold his gaze, and just like many times before, you see your happiness and the reminder of why you’ll never regret giving away a part of yourself for him. As strong as your technique made you, you love him more. And that will be the same in every lifetime.

You’re happy your life led you to him every day, even with all the bad you endured, you’ll go through it all again just be with him.

Does it sound selfish?

Maybe, but you don’t care.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Don’t you love when the ghosts of the dead haunt the mc’s? I love that trope! Also if Satoru somehow lives in the manga wouldn’t a sequel of this series be cool?

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

[darkwolf989]

Can I request a Valentino takes care of the reader who has the stomach flu?

Okay, this one took me forever and a day to write because I took it a bit further than you requested- I hope the length makes up for the delay!

Enjoy!

The sound of her footsteps rushing out of the room startled him awake. 

“Princessa?” He called as he turned on the bedside light. He rubbed his eyes as the dim glow illuminated the room. Where was she off to in such a hurry at two in the morning?

“Bebita?” He called softly as to not wake his sleeping roommates. He made the way down the hallway that led him from his bedroom to their shared living room. To his confusion the light was on in her bedroom and hallway. The door was wide open. Funny, she hadn’t slept in there in months. 

He walked in and the bathroom door was shut tight, letting in only a fraction of light through the gap between the door bottom and the floor, the only other inaction to where she was. 

Then he heard it, the oh too familiar sound of someone being sick.

No. No someone. His fiancée. Now it made sense. She always ran away when she was sick- he likened it almost to a wounded animal. So afraid of letting him see her in such a state. Never mind that they were hoping to have children after the wedding, never mind that they had been in this same situation time and time before. Her reaction never changed. 

“Honey, let me in,” he said softly as he knocked on the door.” 

“Go. Away. Valentin-“ he heard her voice begin before another bout of sickness cut her off. “I’ll get you sick. Go away.” 

“You and I both know I don’t care. Do we have to do this song and dance each time, bebita? Either let me in or I’ll break the lock.” He replied evenly. “You know I will.” 

He heard the shuffling of feet and the click of the door knob as it unlocked. He waited a moment for her to step away from the door before swinging it open. 

“Val, it’s the stomach bug, there is nothing you can do,” she replied shakily as she knelt over. 

“You know that’s not true,” he said as he pulled back her hair and slowly weaved it into a braid, pausing only to hold it as another wave sent her retching. “There are many things I can do to make you more comfortable.” 

She leaned back and he quickly finished the braid before getting busy. They had been together long enough that he knew what would help ease her pain. Bath towels on the floor. Ginger Ale to rinse her mouth. Water and tissues at easy access. 

As she laid down on the towel between waves, he gingerly reached over, his fingertips pausing at the hem of her shirt. To his surprise, she offered no protest as he gently tugged it up. 

“No pain here?” He asked as he gently pressed down on her belly.

Unlike every other time they had gone through this, she let out a yelp and pushed his hand away.”

 He frowned, “did that hurt?” 

“No shit, Val,” she coughed and shook her head as she sat up quickly. “I’m fucking sick.” 

He laid a cool cloth on the back of her neck as his mind ticked through how best to help her. She wouldn’t go down to the nurse unless he physically forced her. She would be furious if the nurse came up here. 

“Could be food poisoning,” he said gently as he handed her a small cup of Ginger Ale. “Will you let me start a line before your veins shrink away to nothing?” 

“I don’t care,” she mumbled. “I just want it to be over.” 

He gave her a sympathetic smile but stood up. “I’ll be back in a second. Stay here.” 

With him out of the room, she curled up into a ball as pain shot through her abdomen. Food poisoning, or maybe the stomach bug, she thought. But she wasn’t sure. She had been sick pleasantly of times, but this felt different and the sharp, stabbing pain in her lower belly had her close to tears. 

She knew she had to tell him. Or Vox. Or Velvette. Hell, she was willing to call Lucifer at this point. 

Her head buzzed as she pulled herself to her feet and stumbled back into the bedroom. The clock flashed three. Somehow an hour had passed. She shook as she wrapped a blanket around herself, cold chills swept through her body. Valentino would be back, but Vox…Vox would be awake. 

She hunched over as she made her way out to the kitchen. Vox leaned against the counter, his screen lit up when he saw her out. 

“Good morning kid! You’re up early,” Vox said cheerfully as he sipped his coffee. “Just in time, breakfast is hot.”

“Vox, I don’t feel good,” she replied. She allowed herself to sink into the couch and curled up into a ball as another wave of pain shot through her. Wordlessly, she pulled another blanket over her body as she shivered. 

“Oh, shit. You don’t look good.” He hit a button on his phone and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re running a fever. What hurts?”

“My belly, it really, really hurts. Val knows, I was sick this morning, but he left for a moment and I want him,” she pleaded. 

“I’m going to do you one better. Let’s go down and meet him in his studio. Your temp is high, kiddo. You need to see the nurse on duty. Can you walk?”

Vox watched as she shook her head and shivered again. Quickly, he shot a message to Valentino to wait where he was and they would come to him. 

“I’m going to take that as a no,” Vox said. “Come on, in my arms.” 

He didn’t wait for a response and lifted her up into his arms. He cringed as she let out a yelp of pain and cuddled against him. He hurriedly brought her to the elevator and hit the button that would bring them to Valentino’s studio. This early in the morning, the set was dark and the only light came from the room down the dark hallway. Vox felt her grip his shirt as she tried to curl her body against him. 

“Almost there sweetheart,” he muttered soothingly. “Just breathe through it.” 

His scent hit her before the feel of his coat did. A careful passing from Vox and Valentino wrapped her in his arms and carried her into the room 

“I don’t feel good,” she muttered again as Vox set her down. “Val, I really don’t feel good.” 

 “I’ll get the nurse, Val, if you want to get her into a gown.” Vox said as he pulled the curtain closed behind him. 

“Princessa, you’re burning up,” Valentino said sharply as he tugged off several layers. 

“N-no, I’m freezing. Valentino, I don’t feel well,” she replied through chattering teeth. 

“I can tell. We’ll get you checked out,” he said as he tied the back of the gown. “That’s a good girl.”

“Let me lay down, please,” she begged. “I’m scared, Val.” 

“No reason to be afraid, I’m here,” he said soothingly as he let her lay down. “Nothing will happen to you I promise. Now give me your arm, Princessa. I want to start a line.” 

She closed her eyes as the pain came in another wave. He spoke as if she could move, let alone protest against the sharp prick and the gentle feel of Valentino’s hands, Vox returned a few moments later, the nurse following behind. 

“Nurse will be right over. Oh, good- Val, you’re  already two steps head.” Vox said. 

“Val, it hurts,” she whimpered. “Please, no drugs.” 

Panic crossed Valentino’s face but to his credit, he stayed calm. Carefully, he undid the layers that covered her body and wrapped her in the gown. She flinched as the cold air hit her skin. 

“Hey. Remember I promised you a long time ago that we wouldn’t drug you or do anything to you without your consent, right?” Vox asked as he smoothed back her hair. “Not unless it was absolutely medically necessary.”

Valentino looked at Vox in confusion. Vox shook his head at him. 

“I promised. I’ll explain later,” Vox replied. 

The curtain pushed away, effectively ending the conversation. The nurse walked over to them and Vox showed her the vitals on his phone. She frowned.

“Can you lay on your back for me?” She asked. “Let me look at your belly.” 

Valentino watched in concern as his finance, the famous angel slayer, slowly uncurled. Something wasn’t right. He could sense it. The nurse pressed her hand to the lower right part of reader’s belly. 

“That fucking hurt,” she hissed and pushed away from the nurse. “Fuck. Off.” 

Valentino stepped next to her and gently laid his hand on her back as she tried to curl back up.

He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the nurse. 

“I need you to lay back down for me, reader,” the nurse prompted. 

“Princessa.” Valentino’s voice was firm, but gentle. “Princessa. Let her do her job. Let her help you.” 

“Don’t touch there again,” reader hissed as she bit back tears.  “That hurts!” 

Valentino frowned. Tears were not something he saw very often. If alarm bells were not ringing before they were loud and clear now. 

“It shouldn’t,” the nurse replied neutrally. “Let’s get some medication in your system. Help with the pain. Here let me see your belly again.” 

Her eyes opened in fright, “no!”

“Princessa, don’t be difficult.” Valentino scolded lightly. “Come now, settle down.” 

“Ah, shit. No. Ouch. Fuck off.” She hissed as the nurse again touched reader’s  lower right side. “I said stop!” 

The nurse pulled away and exchanged a look with Valentino. She leaned back and snapped off her gloves. 

“Do you want to call the doctor, or shall I?” She asked. “Because with how tender her belly is she needs to be seen, now.” 

“Mm, I’ll call him. Princessa. Stay here with the nurse.”  Valentino said gently. 

“No, no, no. No surgery. No painkillers. Don’t leave me. Please, Val” she reached for Valentino and pain shot across her features.

“Just a moment, my bebita. Lay here, I won’t be gone long,” Valentino replied soothingly as he laid her back down. “I promise you, Princessa, I will only be a moment. Vox, I need to speak with you. Step out with me.” 

They stepped out and the nurse looked at her with a sly smirk. Reader winced as the nurse roughly grabbed her arm. 

“I’ll give you the good drugs if you let me,”  she offered. “Come on, not even Valentino lets his girls have the kind of high I can give you.”

Reader shook her head no, “I don’t take painkillers.”

The nurse rolled her eyes. “Can’t force you. That’s Val’s department. Guess we’ll wait for him to come back. Will you at least consent to me putting the heart monitor on you? He’s gonna be pissed if comes back and you’re not obedient.” 

“Val wouldn’t. He loves me.” Reader replied through gritted teeth. “But fine.”

She shook her head as she attached the wires to reader’s chest. 

“You think that, but he doesn’t love anyone. Don’t let your attachment to him risk your life. We need to get you a fever reducer, start you on antibiotics, and get your pain under control. It’s not good for your body to be under this much stress for so long.” 

Cold fear shot through her. No, she was wrong. So, so very wrong- she had to be. Valentino loved her, he told her so. And she wasn’t about to let someone who was so wrong about Valentino to put a needle anywhere near her body. 

“My princessa,” Valentino’s disapproving voice broke through our conversation. 

He and Vox stepped back next to the bed. Vox looked at the monitor and then to the nurse. 

“Leave us. Leave the supplies. John will be here within the next ten minutes. I want everything, and I do mean everything perfectly sterile. Understood?” Valentino commanded. 

She stood up and gave me a look. Anger? Envy? Reader couldn’t tell. The nurse huffed and walked out and tugged the curtain closed behind her. 

“Give me your arm.” Valentino said with an authority in his voice she hadn’t heard him use in a long time. 

“Val, no pain killers.” she whimpered. She extended her arm out for him as he pulled on the blue gloves. 

“You need them, you’re going to be in agony sweetheart. I promise you, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll just feel sleepy and relaxed,” he replied evenly. “But we have to get them into you.” 

“I already am.” I said through gritted teeth. “My belly hurts but I’m fine. I’m alive.” 

“Hey, remember the thing about medical necessity?” Vox asked as he sat down on the bed next to her. “This is one of those times where it’s going to eventually get to a point where your life is at risk. I know you’re in pain, I know you’re scared….”

“I’m fine! I’m, I’m what you need me to be!” Reader protested quickly. 

“You're neither sleepy, nor relaxed. And  I would ask you to take a deep breath, but I doubt you can without causing spasming pain.” Vox replied. He put his hand on my forehead. “Com’on kid, don’t make this harder than it has to be.” 

Valentino took a syringe from the tray and slowly injected the catheter. “It’s just saline but it might burn.” He gave me a soft look. “Princessa, you trust me with everything else. I need you to give me that trust here as well.” He fiddled around with the bag and attached a line. 

“I’m adding antibiotics and a fever reducer, ” He explained as he worked. “I would tell you before I gave you anything else.”

“She said you didn’t love me,” Reader spat out as another spasm of pain shot through her. She pulled away from Vox’s hand. “Ow, ow!” 

She could see the anger that pulsed in Valentino’s eyes. Vox stood up wordlessly and pushed the curtain aside. She heard his footsteps echo across the tiles and then disappear. 

“You have a diamond on your finger that proves otherwise, mi amore,” Valentino’s voice was as soft as it could be.  “And we have a wedding to plan. Don’t listen to her- she’s envious. Most of the girls in the studio are.” 

“And you were going to let her drug me?!” Reader squeaked. “Valentino!”

“Princessa, she wouldn’t hurt you. She wouldn’t dare-  not only would it be a breach of contract but my rage would be nothing compared to that consequence. So no, I’m not worried mi amore.” He pressed his lips to the top of her forehead.  “I need you to let the doctors do their job. I need you to not fight me on this. Please trust me, cariño.” 

Another wave of pain and she scrunched up as tightly as she could. The pain itself was getting worse with each moment. She knew she couldn’t hold off much longer. 

“Alright, fine. Fine Val, fine,” she conceded. “Don’t let anything happen to me, please- Val, I’m terrified.” 

“I know you are bebita, but I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” He said gently as he took her arm in his hand. Slowly, he pushed the vial into the catheter and carefully watched for her reaction. 

She turned her head away as the liquid seeped into her veins. Valentino’s hand slipped under her  shoulder and gently sat her up. It took a heartbeat for the pain to erase and her mind to fog. 

“That’s my good girl,” Valentino said softly,  “Close your eyes. Rest. Doc will be here soon.”  

The next thing she knew Valentino, Vox, and Velvette were standing next to a human looking demon in blue hospital scrubs. 

“There just isn’t any way around it, her appendix has to come out. Otherwise her life is at risk.”  Reader heard the doctor say to them. “It’s either now, or she risks death.”

Somewhere, Reader felt the pain begin to creep its way up her body. For the first time since it began, the heaviness of something being wrong settled over her. Appendix? Surgery? 

“I don’t want surgery,” she tried to mumble as the fog slowly began to lift. She gasped as she felt the sharp pain start to return. “Valentino?” 

Valentino rushed over to her, concern flooding his features. She reached for him and he leaned over as he stroked her hair. 

“You shouldn’t be awake, muñeca” he said in his most soothing voice. “Don’t be afraid, mi amore. You’re going to be okay, I promise. We’ll make you all better.”

“No, what are you doing to me?” She begged. She caught a glimpse of her left hand and panic began to settle in. “Where is my ring?”

Valentino cupped her chin. “Baby. Reader. Listen to me.” He said gently as he cupped my chin. “I have your ring. It’s in the jewelry box at home. You’re sick, my love. The doctor needs to do surgery.” 

She felt him fiddle with the line and she grabbed his arm. 

“Val, I’m scared. What’s wrong with me?” She demanded. 

“You have appendicitis mi amore,” Valentino replied gently. “Three little incisions in your tummy, a few hours and you’ll be all better. Nothing to be scared of, my love. The doctor is going to put you to sleep for a little while and when you wake up, you’ll be all better, and I’ll be right here next to you, when you do, I promise.” 

She tried to push herself up but hunched as the pain shot through her. Valentino gently pushed her back down against her protests. Carefully, he pressed another vial into the catheter. 

“No, Valentino.” she begged as she tried to push his hand away. 

“Yes, Princessa.” He replied calmly. 

“No! You can’t, not without my consent,” she panicked, “you promised! Vox, you promised!” 

“I can if it’s the difference between life and death, and it is,” Valentino replied calmly. “And if it isn’t now, if that thing bursts in your belly, it will be. And I’m not willing to risk that, muñeca, are you? We have a wedding to plan.”

The tears came flooding out. “No, I’m not, but-“

“Shussh, bebita. Then no buts,” Valentino gently smoothed back her hair. “ I’m going to give you another something strong, and when you wake up you’ll be all better.” 

She felt the cold liquid seep into her veins and as soon as the drugs hit, her world went black. 

The next thing she knew there was a doctor standing, talking to Valentino. In her drug induced haze, she couldn’t make out what they were saying, nor could she move my body. She closed her eyes. Tired, tired was all she felt.  

When she woke up again, she was tucked comfortably into a hospital bed. Unlike where she was when she first arrived,  the room was separate- private, with no one else around. She tried to swallow and she winced at the soreness in her throat.  She felt a tinge of ache in her belly. 

“Princessa. You’re awake.” Valentino asked as he leaned over and smoothed back her hair. “You did so good, babydoll. Doctor took the whole thing out, you’re going to be okay little one.” 

She opened my mouth to talk but he shook his head as he continued to stroke her hair. “Quiet love. They put a tube down your throat to protect your airway when they put you under. Your throat will be sore, but that should go away soon.” His expression softened. “I promise you, I’ll be here throughout your recovery. Now go back to sleep, mi amore. Your body needs the rest.”

She felt the pressure on the line in her arm and her eyes slowly began to close again. At least she knew Valentino would be there when she woke up. After all, he promised.

And Valentino always kept his promises. 

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Lovelies, y'all voted which of my OC Links you wanted to hug most, and Shadow won, so guess what, Shadow gets a nice writing snippet :)

(Oh boy guys, I had such a good time writing this, partly because of the soundtrack I listened to. It was "Descent into Gloom's Lair" for the first half and then "Phase 5 Construct Factory")

This had to be it. He could sense the warmth of the magic, could hear the sword’s humming voice, could almost understand its whispers.

Link crept further into the canyon crevice, hands almost burning as they brushed against gloom. That never used to hurt. It was always cold.

He felt nearly giddy at the sensation. He reached his hand forward to grab it, one final piece, one last sliver of hope to add to his prayers and efforts. His finger snagged the sharp end, making it bleed, but the steel glowed blue regardless.

Sacred blue from a sacred sword. Link knew nothing of this blade, only that it contained light magic. Just as the dagger he’d used all that time ago had.

Please be enough. Please be enough.

Link felt his entire body trembling in anticipation and anxiety. If he tried this and it failed, it would give his entire plan away. But he’d never felt so certain, had never heard the sword’s magic so clearly. He’d scoured the entirety of the Depths, and this was the last shred of light he could find.

The pieces all fit together. The only thing that was missing was the base of the sword and its hilt. How such a blade could be so long—it was practically a claymore, but it held such little weight to it. Yet it held so much power. It felt… it felt familiar, it felt comforting.

He saw it sometimes, in his dreams. A blade shattered under Ganondorf’s power, only to be built anew in golden light. But there was no golden light here. Only the cool steely blue. Yet it was warmer than the sun, and he felt it seep into his skin, into his muscles and bone, snipping away at the cold tendrils that dug into him like needles.

Slowly, Link pulled off the bandages around his forehead.

This was it. This was his last prayer, his final attempt. He closed his eyes, feeling the icy cold vice grip Ganondorf had on him, centered in the malicious mark on his forehead. The sacred blade hummed in anticipation, nearly a growl, baring its metaphorical teeth. Its pieces slid together as he placed them on the floor, making him gasp a little. Thin, purple light, nearly like sacred thread, held the pieces together as they reverberated in unison.

He felt pain twinge in his forehead, and he sensed Ganondorf’s dark magic nearby. He’d been out of the demon king’s sight for too long. He could tell the man was growing nervous, worried. He was running out of time.

Fear pulled at him all of a sudden, sharp and horrifying and paralyzing. What if it wasn’t enough? What if it wasn’t enough?

Link took a trembling breath, pulling out a katana Ganondorf had gifted him. Then he pulled out a war hammer that he’d been gifted by one of the fallen soldiers.

It was now or never.

He brought the hammer down fiercely, channeling all his fear into it, turning it to something productive. With each clang he felt his heart rate grow ever faster. Holding the katana steady took all of his determination, and each blow reverberated up his shoulder. It felt like two different parts of him at war, one side ferociously fighting to be released while the other clung to its prison, petrified.

What if this isn’t enough? He’ll never let me go after this; he’ll use his power to control me forever!

But what if it was enough? If he hesitated, he’d never get this chance again, and the end result would be the same.

But we have a status quo. This is working.

But it wouldn’t last!

Clang!

The katana shook under his grip.

Clang!

The gloom spawn was getting closer.

I just want him back. I just want him back!

He was never getting the Ganondorf he knew back.

Clang!

He was sweating now. Tears mixed with the sweat, a sweet and salty flavor in his mouth.

Clang!

Clang!

The katana snapped, its blade giving way, its hilt remaining intact. He stared at it a moment, his breath caught in his chest, his body frozen. The sacred blade hummed louder. He could hear the shrill, shuddering sounds of the gloom spawn nearby.

Slowly, Link knelt on the ground, reaching for the blade. As he drew it closer to the hilt of the katana, the same strange, effervescent purple thread seemed to lock it into place with the hilt. Link stared at it a moment in wonder and awe, and it bolstered his resolve and hope.

This… this might actually work.

It would. It had to.

His forehead was beginning to hurt more and more. Icy cold darkness pulled at it. The blade’s sounds pulsed closer together, seeming nearly frantic.

Link turned the blade towards himself, hesitating a moment, breathing shakily, feeling the world around him stop.

If this was his last moment… then so be it.

He thrust it quickly, sharply, with every ounce of strength he had, aiming for his forehead.

His world exploded into agony. Time seemed to slow as he screamed, as white-hot energy ripped through his entire being, unraveling him. Images ran through his mind, memories scrambling around as if he were living his last moments.

Ganondorf’s face, stricken with horror as he laid in his arms dying. His own pain, heart breaking, body screaming from the wound.

Hemisi’s smile as they danced at a party in the castlte. His body retching as he tossed her ashes into the flames.

Coldness claiming him in eternal slumber as he fell down the stairs. Coldness dragging him back as Ganondorf ripped him from its embrace.

Nabooru holding him and Hemisi when they went to war. Nabooru’s scream as he was tossed down the stairs after stabbing Ganondorf.

Goddess, make it stop! It wasn’t as if he hadn’t experienced death before, why was this so utterly painful?!

He registered that his screaming had stopped, that he was suddenly laying on his side, that the world was spinning but most certainly in the present once more. Warm liquid lazily slipped down his forehead, pooling at his temple. He gasped, sitting upright as adrenaline slammed into him, as he heard the gloom spawn, as he saw it rapidly approaching.

Run, RUN!

Link’s body came to life, and he ran as hard and fast as possibly could. He didn’t dare look back, dead set on finding someplace that the spawn couldn’t reach. He knew this region fairly well by now, looking to his right and leaping on to the cliffside, hastily pulling himself upward. The gloom hands reached, but their claws could barely ghost against his ankles, leaving him breathless but somewhat relieved. He climbed higher and higher, feeling his body tremble and ache and protest considering everything that had just happened, but he finally made it to the top.

Collapsing, Link panted for air, completely and utterly drained. He felt like he’d been carrying a heavy load for his entire life and it had finally been lifted. He didn’t even know how to describe how he felt. The sacred blade was warm beside him, tucked into his belt, and he settled his hand on it like a lifeline.

It had worked. It had worked!

He laughed. He laughed until he was breathless, he cried.

But he knew he couldn’t stay here long. Ganondorf knew where he was now, and he knew he couldn’t control him.

It was a hunt now.

Link took a few more seconds to catch his breath before sitting up once more. He couldn’t see the bottom of the cliff with as dark as it was, but he could still catch wisps of dark magic, could hear the gloom spawn hissing in protest, remaining in its place so Ganondorf could track it.

He spat off the edge of the cliff, a sneer pulling at his lips, and made his way farther uphill. He knew there was an abandoned mine up ahead, and he knew there were Yiga there. But the Yiga were essentially harmless to him; he’d beaten up enough of them prior to escaping Ganondorf’s shackles to know that much.

Rushing ahead, Link noticed there were brighter splotches in new areas. More lightroots, probably. He blinked against it, trying to adjust to the change, when something caught his eye and made him stop dead in his tracks.

Was that… was that a…

Link stared.

That was a dragon.

A dragon floated in front of him, glowing beautifully blue, a chill steadily spreading through the air as it growled, its rumbling voice vibrating through Link’s chest.

How—he’d never—what—

It was beautiful.

But—but—

What was a dragon even doing down here?! They didn’t dwell in the Depths, they—

It had to have gotten here somehow.

Hope burned in his chest, along with excitement and indescribable joy. He knew how to get out of here.

Link charged ahead, leaping off the cliff, and landed directly on the mythical creature.

His hands and feet screamed at the icy contact, entire body immediately racking with shivers, but he clung to the crystalline spines on its blessed back regardless, laughing as he his teeth chattered. His muscles were so exhausted from everything that he nearly stopped shivering after a few minutes, watching his fingers and toes turn purplish blue.

He didn’t care.

The Depths looked so different from up here. He could make out the plant life, see scattered ruins. It almost looked like how it used to, when it had been far more alive and protected by lightroots.

Link gasped a little as his entire body shook with a shudder in response to the cold, and he nearly lost his grip on the creature’s spine. He couldn’t feel his feet anymore.

Come on, sacred sister… please… get me out of here.

The icy creature roared again, her entire body reverberating the sound. Her back started to arch, and Link nearly lost his footing as his world tipped. He reached for any kind of purchase, hanging off the dragon’s spiny icelike crystals, praying he could still hold on.

But she was tipping upward. That had to mean—that had to mean—

They were getting out of here. She was getting him out of here.

Link climbed as best he could to stand atop the scale, nearly falling before catching himself. And he saw light. He saw the sky.

Link’s face, freezing as it was, thawed a moment as tears spilled over his cheeks. Snowflakes suddenly appeared, getting caught in his hair and his lashes, and a sharp wind tore through him as sunlight blasted through, reflecting off snow covered fields. There were trees everywhere, decorated in the sparkling splendor of winter’s kiss, and Link gasped as the dragon started to straighten out. He could no longer feel his hands, couldn’t grip anything, and he fell.

He fell, the air screaming all around him, crashing through layer after layer of freedom as the chasm grew ever closer.

It felt like a nightmare, like the chasm was the maw of a demonic dragon, like Ganondorf was reaching up from hell just to drag him back down.

Link felt panic squeeze him as if a gloom hand had already gotten a hold of him, but he flipped his body around to try and redirect the wind and his course so he could at least land in the snow. He’d rather die than go back down there.

He was probably going to die either way once he hit the ground. But at least this way he’d die on the surface, buried in snow, never to be found by that man again.

He couldn’t… Ganondorf couldn’t bring him back again, could he?

There was no way he’d gotten this far just to—

Something sounded in the air, strange, different from the wind, whistling but in a sharp, repeated pattern. Link looked around wildly, in a panic, wondering if somehow the demon king had caught up to him, when something slammed into him.

“Hold on to me!” he heard, and his heart nearly stopped from the absolute shock of it. He turned as best he could, trying to see who in the world this even was, wrapping his arms around the person as the air below them suddenly pushed them upward sharply. It slowed his momentum instantly, but far too much for his tired and frozen arms to handle, and he quickly slipped out from under the person. He gasped, too tired to fight it or move, and he saw the figure above him let go of whatever parasailing device they had, diving towards him and grabbing him, twisting both of them so he was on top of the other when they hit the snow.

The impact was still hard, but not nearly as horrible as it could have been without that significant slowing. Link gasped for air nonetheless, stretched far beyond what his body could handle, numb and so cold it froze his bones.

He vaguely felt the person underneath him moving, and he opened his eyes as best he could, glancing down. Blue eyes looked back at him, framed in a somehow strangely familiar face.

“I’ve never seen anyone else ride a dragon,” the young man commented, expression perplexed. “Who—”

The man cut himself off, recognition shining in his eyes, in the way his brow shot upward, in the way his mouth opened even more with a small gasp.

And then it hit Link.

This… this was Rauru’s knight.

[xoxoxkisses]

I love your Sanemi x reader + Muichiro x reader!

Can you write more☺️

I really love your work.

Ty! I came up with this last minute so it may be all over the place. Also, why not just make it both of them?

Both?

info: this is set in a modern au; you guys were a trio that grew up together; everyone is the same age except for sanemi (17,17,18) and reader is a girl!

warnings: not proofread

————————————————————————

The three of you were walking back to your house. You guys were going to play video games and they were going to sleep over. Your parents were fine with this since they trusted them with you. While they were playing Mario Kart, you were making snacks. As you were walking back you noticed Muichiro was beating Sanemi, and Sanemi was getting mad. “Oh what the hell?! How are you so good at this?!!” He was practically screaming at Muichiro while you and him were laughing. “Guys I have the snacks.” You set them on the table and sat down and started eating. They decided to finish the round and come join you on the couch, one on each side.

The boys were both very protective over you and you knew that. You decided to put on a movie, they were happy with this idea as it was getting late and everyone was becoming tired, especially you.

In the middle of the movie, you felt your sleep overwhelm you. You had scooted closer to Muichiro, this pissed Sanemi off but he wasn’t going to show that, but it made Muichiro happy. That was until you laid down on Sanemi’s lap. Muichiro got jealous and Sanemi gave him a smirk, until you put your legs onto Muichiro’s lap. His smirk quickly faded.

Sanemi was running his fingers through your hair as Muichiro was running his hand up and down your legs. You were fast asleep as the two continued the movie. At the end, they decided to go lay you down in your bed, Sanemi carried you as he was the biggest out of you guys. Muichiro was fine with this, he just followed behind you guys. As Sanemi laid you down in your bed, you had turned to the side Muichiro was on. As they walked away, you sat up and grabbed Muichiro. “Please stay.” He gave you a shocked look that quickly softened.

He crawled into bed with you and you instantly cuddled up to him. Sanemi was fuming. Muichiro was stroking your hair was smirking at him. “Sanemi, you too. Please.” You glanced over at him. He also crawled into bed with you and cuddled you from behind. The three of you fell asleep pretty quickly.

Once you woke up, you were in the same position as you were before. You tried to get up to go make breakfast, but you couldn’t get up. You had to push their hands off.

As you were in the kitchen, you heard footsteps. You turned around to see Muichiro standing there rubbing his eyes. “Good morning Mui!” You smiled at him. “Good morning.” He gave you a soft smile back. As he sat at the table you put some pancakes and bacon on the table. Not too long after, Sanemi came down for breakfast. You both told him good morning.

As you guys were eating, you came up with the idea to go to the beach. They both agreed and after breakfast you guys got ready. You put on your favorite bikini, a black one, and you walked out. The boys were already ready so they were in the living room talking. That’s when Muichiro saw you. He kept his gaze on you for what felt like forever, then Sanemi laid his eyes on you. “Y/n you look great.” Sanemi said looking you up and down. “Yeah you do.” Muichiro smiled at you. ————————————————————————

At the beach, you were laying out trying to tan, Muichiro had went to get you guys some drinks. Sanemi took this as his chance. “Hey y/n, I have to tell you something.” You looked at him, “yeah?” He took a deep breath. “Well y/n, I like you. A lot. Your face went red. “I-I don’t know what to said Sanemi.” He told you that it was fine and went out to the water. Muichiro came back with the drinks and sat with you. You guys talked, and when Sanemi came back he could feel the tension between you guys. ————————————————————————

At home, Muichiro came up to you to ask what was going on between you and Sanemi. You told him what happened and his eyes went wide. “Well um y/n. It’s a bad time to mention I also like you.” Your jaw dropped, you couldn’t believe they both liked you. You had to talk to them. ————————————————————————

You had waited till dinner to talk to them about it. “So, you both like me?” They both nodded their head. You felt your heart flutter. “Y/n, we’re not saying you have to pick one of us.” Sanemi said glancing at you then Muichiro. “Well, I like both of you guys. I can’t choose.” Their eyes went wide. “Well..” Muichiro started, “why don’t we all just date?” He was serious. “Are you joking right now?!” Sanemi yelled. “Well, that doesn’t seem like a horrible idea.” You said looking down. “I mean I like both of you and you guys like me so, it’s not a bad idea.” Sanemi took a deep breath, “I suppose it isn’t.” You smiled. You ran up and hugged them both and kissed them on the cheek. The three of you have been dating for around 2 months, you guys decided to keep it a secret for a while. You guys were still the bestest of friends and nothing was different other than the occasional fighting over you. But, you were all happy, and that’s all that matters.

[hiemaldesirae]

Hiii :) it’s me again, the anon who yapped about fanon Vox, I’m here because I need to yap again: I’m kinda worried about season 2

After rewatching season 1, I felt like the stakes weren’t high enough for Charlie & the Hotel. One would think going into battle against Heaven would be devastating and disastrous but the only characters that permanently died were…background characters. I don’t count Sir Pentious because bro is alive and will most likely have a bigger role to play in the story now that he’s in heaven. The hotel was destroyed, yeah, but like minutes later it was rebuilt with the help of Lucifer.

That’s another reason why I feel like the stakes aren’t high enough, they added Lucifer way too soon. How are Vox & other future villains meant to stand a chance against the King of Hell?? I think it would’ve been better if took Charlie a couple of seasons to convince her dad to help her cause.

My main worries for season 2 are about Vox because I can’t stop thinking about him LMFAO. Anyways, I’m scared Vox will be a second Adam, goofy villain that gets killed off pretty quickly and anti-climactically. Vox was already a silly villain in season 1 (sending Pentious to the Hotel as a spy, cheering when Alastor got his ass beat, etc, etc.) so it’ll feel like a waste if they continue writing him that way. I want Vox to be an actual threat and kill one of the main characters PERMANENTLY. Preferably Angel Dust cause it’ll cause a shit ton of discourse since he’s well-loved by both the characters in-universe and the fandom but I don’t think that’ll happen. I just need Vox to lock in 🙏

Don’t get me wrong, I love Hazbin Hotel (only because of Alastor & the Vees but shhh 🤫) but I want the story to evoke emotions from me, I wanna be anxious, I wanna feel hyped, but I don’t feel any of this when things go too perfectly for the main characters and everything goes wrong for the antagonists.

I’m so sorry for the long ass essay, I would make my own post but I don’t wanna be perceived 😭😭

oh i completely understand ur worries nonny dont even worry about the essay

i definitely feel like theres a Risk of that happening to vox especially since . well. vivz doesnt have the best track record to begin with (cannot speak for hb but the way she deals with some characters and resolves their arcs is. questionable) but i personally think (hope? believe?) that since there are members on the writing and animation team who are fans of the vees that she wont just kill vox off for no reason / comic relief(or any of the vees, really) + also of all the vees vox is probably the most likely to die in a dramatic scene considering how he and al are set up to be character foils and killing him off in the stupidest way would be such a horrific storyline fumble i cannot in good conscience believe that vivziepop would even be able to fathom its stupidity. of course im holding out hope still because if theres one thing ive learnt about the internet its that you do not under any circumstances trust any public figures to make the right decisions ever and this applies to animated shows too.

vox killing someone forever would really manage to cement his place in the storyline as a big baddie, but i do have to disagree on wanting angel dead- personally- and as much as it pains me to say this- i think him killing husk or niffty would have the same effect while not interfering with angels healing arc: in fact itd even further angels healing arc and self discovery, alongside giving alastor a reason to perhaps go toe to toe with vox. (i do think that killing angel off would have an interesting result but it feels like an abrupt and unnecessary move to make, tho it may just be ny preference to want to see recovery arcs fulfilled so those characters can live their best lives)

++re what you said ab the hotel not having enough stakes for the next season, i totally agree- bringing in lucifer feels a bit like a cheap copout and didnt really serve to further **charlies** character arc (arguably you could say making up with her father developed her backbone more but. hm. idk you couldve done that in a multitude of other ways sooo)

[heymrspatel]

ian’s feeling a little self conscious and mickeys just straight up loving on his husband and telling him how sexy and fine he looks!

ohohooo boy you've hit me right in the chest with this one... ok, let's see!

---

ian's having one of those days. those days that don't happen super often anymore, but they do happen. waking up feeling physically heavy, groggy, slow. the harsh lighting in the bathroom making him notice those extra soft bits on his body, where he used to be taught and lean. he looks down, where his tummy sticks out above the band of his boxers, sighs.

eyes back up, he brushes his teeth, gazes at his reflection, and acknowledges that this is a fleeting feeling - because nowadays he looks at himself and sees it. happiness and health and comfort in his settled life. he loves it. he's sturdy, strong, beefy. he's soft, holdable, grounding. he sees it, he knows, mickey reminds him.

he sees it, washes his toothbrush, wipes at his face, takes a final look. he knows, but it's just one of those days. he turns off the judgmental fluorescents and pads back into the bedroom towards his....

my god... there, face bathed in soft light and gorgeous, mickey. he's shifted in the ten or so minutes ian's been gone. sprawled out and entirely tangled in the comforter. left hand sticking out and clutching ian's pillow - like he was searching, wanting, grasping - coming up empty. he's awake now. ian moves, the floors creak, mickey's eyes zero in on him.

"do you know how fucking cold it is in this room?... why the fuck are you up this early?" and ian's quiet, suddenly realizing he came to a stop in front of their full length mirror. a glance at himself, back at mickey. maybe he doesn't have to be up yet, it's saturday. maybe he can spare lounging around a bit more. glance and back. he should get under there, mickey said he's cold. glance, back. he doesn't move, rooted in place. "...come back under here and get on me!" glance...

"babyface... c'mere"

he moves. mickey rolling away, untangling, giving him his space in bed back... immediately shifting back and attaching himself to him. "always leaving me here in the mornings... can't stick around for me? hmm?" the drama of it all making ian chuckle and press his lips to mickey's forehead. he feels mickey's hands wander around his chest and down to his belly, making him draw in a breath and stiffen. he sees mickey's eyes squint and his nose scrunch in the process. a small tut escaping his lips. here it comes.

"got myself a human heater... warm and soft. teddy bear mother fucker." and that's a new one! "you gotta stop leaving me here every morning. you're like one of them weighted blankets you're always going on about... hmmph... comfy." he nuzzles into ian's chest, wrapping tighter around him, and breathing so deeply. smiling. "smell so good... i think i get why you're always sniffin'." giving quick cute pecks along his collar bone. "so many freckles. all over. this one here is my favorite." he moves to the hollow of his neck. giving it a little lick.

and ian can't help but giggle really. because his husband is so in tune, because he always knows when something is up, because his licks are tickling him!

mickey pulls until he's securely pinned under ian. "my big guy. cover me just right" his hands begin their familiar dance. over ian's strong shoulders, down the muscles of his back, lightly scratching back up. "you threw me around so good last night. was fucking airborne at one point."

oh. these giggly kisses are some of ian's favorites!

"you gave it to me so good and hard, made me grab on to all of you, huh?" his hands are everywhere, covering ian's body with love. "so sexy. do you know how good you feel and look when you're overpowering me like that?" the complete contrast of his statement and his soft lips making ian all fuzzy and warm.

"so good. so soft. so strong. so hard." a mantra. each declaration punctuated with the sweetest kisses. his hands wandering, grabbing, pressing ian's weight down. soft little moans making an appearance.

and god if ian doesn't feel like he's floating! high, on a cloud. sustained by mickey's touches, his sounds, his scent. his words, his words, his words. breaking through and helping him see and remember what he already knows. because today is one of those days, yes, and it'll take more than this to claw his way fully out... but he's being uplifted and loved and touched in the right ways. in the ways that wiggle in and help chip at that wall and appears in times like these.

he sees his strong arms framing mickey's head, how his size and weight are making him feel. he knows he's good, he's healthy, he feels his heart pumping strong and full of love in his chest. it'll take more than this, but this helps. every part of this helping, chipping away.

he breathes, he kisses, mickey moans...

he sees, he knows, mickey reminds him...

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[quirkle2]

first amv be nicies to me about it or else

[lovesickeros]

lord its so dark in here the sahara desert of tsaritsa content you are like a shining oasis. your characterisation of her compels me & mihoyo would be hard pressed to top it imo.!! caaaaan i humbly request yr thoughts on her first meeting w a reader of any kind, or maybe even multiple kinds (sagau, sagau god au, isekai, etc) if you so desire...

it really is like a desert here. being the fan of a character we aren't getting until the last damn nation is driving me up a wall but i will persevere bc if nothing else i support morally bankrupt women in media. we r in a severe drought over here but i do my best. unfortunately nothing i say is ever coherent so pull out your translation notes its abt 2 be messy

also this got out of hand but thats bc first meetings w the tsaritsa are tricky to write + a LOT of her characterization lies in deeper exploration then just surface level yknow...NOT A DIG AT YOU this is just my excuse for rambling. gently pats the tsaritsa she can hold so much complexity i do not have the word count to delve into it completely :]

gonna talk cult au for a bit here though because that's 99% of my content. and honestly? she thrives in sub au's of the cult au like villain au + imposter au. it's basically made for her. i mean, early days, the imposter au had been going around for a little while but one of the first few ideas was the Fatui taking reader in so like. it kinda technically actually was. pretty sure cult au Tsaritsa popped up because of the imposter au. a lot of it's writers kinda left though which. man am i getting old or.

anyway.

there isn't much of a chance her first impression is all that positive. at best it's usually neutral, imo, but rarely if ever positive. specifically because i view the Tsaritsa as someone who isn't as fanatical as most of the acolytes typically are towards the creator. she's not exactly going to worship the ground you walk on unlike a certain geo lizard. which is partially why i think she thrives in the sub au's i mentioned.

imposter au, for example. she meets you at your lowest. there's no gaudy extravagance or pampering from the acolytes waiting for you because your own acolytes have turned on you. for all intents and purposes you aren't a "god" at all. which is why i don't think she meshes well with normal cult au reader. the Fatui are made up of outcasts, basically, and imposter au slots right in just perfectly. you're weak, at your lowest, when you meet the Fatui in the imposter au. and the Fatui can help you, too.

a mutual exchange, really. the Tsaritsa sees a tool she can use to one up the rest of the nations and especially Archons, and she has no qualms about you using her and the Fatui in turn. you both want something out of it, after all. whether you just want to be safe from the rest of the acolytes, or you want revenge, or whatever else..she'll give you the power to fulfill it, and she gains the strongest piece on the chessboard when all is said and done.

the best way i can describe the first meeting is "practical", i suppose. she sees an opportunity in you. the ultimate gamble. because if she "saves" you, and you dont trust anyone else because they tried to kill you, well..she holds all the cards, doesn't she?

but the Tsaritsa, imo, is just as capable of being just as fanatical towards you as anyone else. she just won't worship you as the creator. but as yourself? clawing your way back to your divine power and taking back what belongs to you? the Tsaritsa is, to me, a character who's character flourishes in long-term fics more because she changes a LOT between "just met reader" and after having been with reader for some time. she's practically apathetic at the beginning but a lot of her character, in my characterization, shines through LONG after the first meeting.

[tigergender]

Remembering the toxic hellscape that was 2015-2019ish SU fandom and just how much hate the show got is really insane when you rewatch the show after it's been a while. Like the show is good what the hell were any of these people talking about

[ask-thearchivists]

How about you Compelor? What are you thoughts about your father and your siblings?

The Compelor: Father is a great and honorable man worthy of total respect and deference. We owe all that we are and our very existences to him.

Uncle Coor: Oh son, you are always so kind!

The Compelor: My twin should spend less time with our youngest sibling and more doing her job. If it did not spend every spare moment with him then it would not need to rush through its vital work. The Conservator allows this as well, because it will allow her to leave while it studies the mortals instead of both of them working concurrently.

The Compelor: As for our youngest siblings, I think they both could do better, like father has said. The Cataloger does not always pay keen attention to father's instructions for sorting the mortals from most to least thriving, and the Cartologist's maps are unimpressive just as father described.

The Cartologist: I'm sorry...I promise to work harder when we go back home...

The Copyist: Starlight, your abilities will naturally improve over time, you should not listen to those who would denigrate your craft, no starlet of your age is anywhere near as talented as you are now with your maps.

The Cartographer: I must agree, your father showed me one of your maps to compare to my own and your hands are much steadier now than when I started, and I was much older than you. You show excellent promise in this field.

Uncle Coor: Oh, both the Gibs are chiming in to compliment the boy? How nice.

The Cartographer: Of course I will, as the most senior Cartographer in this Archive right now, I am the most familiar with this field and thus entitled to commentate on the level of skill a junior might have. Comments from others, in unattached fields, are purely worthless.

Uncle Coor: It is as you say.

[sisterdivinium]

It might appear somewhat essentialist at first if used to examine real, breathing human beings, but Carol Gilligan's "Images of relationship" can provide an interesting framework with which to understand certain facets of Warrior Nun. More so when coupled with David Hayter's comment on how the show's "women are always right and the men are always kind of screwing things up," for her article, dealing in systems of moral understanding, might point us towards the reasons behind this openly admitted narrative "bias".

In a nutshell, Gilligan observes the different strategies by which boys and girls seem to resolve moral dilemmas, deviating from traditional interpretation. This is because, Rosemarie Tong reminds us, "Gilligan challenged the Freudian notion that men have a well-developed sense of justice — a sense of morality — whereas women do not". By looking beyond these hurried and prejudiced conclusions of (male) researchers before her, she "argued instead that men and women have different conceptions of morality, each equally coherent and developed and equally valid". She bases this idea, then, on those resolution strategies that were found to consist of, for boys, a tendency to see the moral dilemma as "sort of like a math problem with humans", while the girls were more inclined to view it as "a narrative of relationships that extends over time" — so if boys seemed "logical" through their impersonal abstraction of a situation, invoking concepts similar to those of law and justice, the girls were more likely to follow a different, "personal" logic, through "an awareness of the connections between people", identifying "a web of relationships that is sustained by a process of communication".

Where this all intersects with Warrior Nun is that the male and female characters seemingly display these same propensities of moral judgment.

If we start with the men, we will quickly see that they are all caught up in their own abstract systems, prone to grand ideas and concepts while detached from the world and the valuable human bonds that make it up, just as Vincent sees the quest for a hypothetical "better world" as more important than the life of a very real, concrete woman he claims to love. Mr. Hayter himself, in the same interview conceded during the OCS Conclave of June 3rd, mentions how father Vincent and cardinal William are irresistibly attracted to the notion of power: "here's this guy who can do godlike things, so why wouldn't I follow him, you know? ... We gotta have some power ... that we bow down to or whatever". This is how he transmits a glimpse into these characters' psyches and we could safely argue that this behaviour and thought pattern extends to the rest of the men in the show, including Duretti, Kristian, Adriel and even Michael Salvius.

Whether these men mask their fascination with power through other words or not, theirs is a cause which easily calls for violence and a willingness to kill or die for it.

Earthly power inspires Francesco Duretti to have the current halo bearer killed if need be as he attempts to consolidate his bid on the Holy See; Kristian Schaefer would sacrifice the world as readily as he does his old acquaintance Duretti in the name of this power that lay entombed for a thousand years but communicated through the voice of a sick little boy; cardinal William Foster is inebriated with the idea of being a new god's right-hand man, so he brutally slaughters his colleagues to buy himself a place at Adriel's table, even if that means getting no more than his master's crumbs; father Vincent is so eager to find someone or something powerful enough to take the burden of "his darkness" from atop his shoulders that he convinces himself of there being divinity in the parlour tricks of a manipulator, killing a symbolic daughter in this trickster's name; Adriel would bleed humanity dry without a second thought all the while claiming to save it in draining its belief for the benefit of his own megalomania; finally, Michael subjects himself to the will and authority of Reya, whom he claims to be "unimaginably powerful".

Of course the women of Warrior Nun are mostly all ready to lay down their lives for their own cause as well, or else we wouldn't have their iconic motto of "in this life or the next", but the motivation behind it is what sets the men and the women wholly apart here. If the former are intoxicated by the concept of power, the latter are embedded in a family of sorts, in a dense network of relationships that they can identify with some ease, and which informs their decisions and actions more than just dogma or theory.

Most if not all of the female characters struggle between two different stances: one is an offshoot of the males' abstract organisation of the world, while the other is a more "hands-on", "organic" order; between "duty", or what is said to be their duty, and that which their own perception reveals, their "personal" logic by which the "self [is] delineated through connection", seeing one another as actual sisters instead of mere pieces upon the church's chess board. We see the dilemma take place within Beatrice, Camila, Lilith and Mother Superion, who are all faced with a choice of sticking to their place in a well-defined (artificial, abstract) structure or valuing instead the human connections all around them and that stand in opposition to this man-made categorisation of life.

And, one by one, they take the side of that one character who seems to have kept her lucidity and fidelity to her own understanding through it all: Mary.

Mary never lost sight of her priorities. Her focus on friends and sisters illustrates Gilligan's point rather well when she is the only one who insists on understanding what happened to Shannon all the while the OCS is made to concentrate its energies on the halo instead. Of course it blinds her to Vincent's betrayal, but that is his fault more than it is hers; her moral compass points at the right direction for the most part.

And, each at their turn, the nuns adopt (rediscover?) this same mode of thought. Beatrice's efficient, obedient soldier façade crumbles beneath the urgency of siding with Mary rather than following the arbitrary decision of some man invested with the power of an institution; Camila outright admits wanting to be kicked out of the church just so she can stay near to the people who represent her allegiance more than liturgy itself ever could; Lilith literally travels to hell and back to rejoin her sisters, regardless of how her subsequent mutations upset her loyalty later on; Mother Superion sheds her prominence within hierarchy, risking it all, by standing with "her girls". Even Ava, an outsider with no ties to the church but who so desperately wanted to "live", trades a vague, abstract notion of what "life" and "freedom" entail for the very definite, tangible reality of the family this group of women becomes for her.

Another outsider equally stuck between "bodiless" logic and the reality of human connection around her, Jillian Salvius, too, falters before choosing her side when faced with these two points of view: that of "pure" reasoning and that informed by the consciousness of surrounding relationships. Her quest for "knowledge" is not sufficiently strong so as to potentially sacrifice someone in her inner circle. Season one has her holding young Michael back from stepping into the machine she herself had created for this purpose when concern overrides calculation; season two gives us a powerful scene where she is tempted by Kristian into joining Adriel's ranks as he claims she is already a part of it all and dangles before her the forbidden fruit of the world's hidden laws, the elusive answers the scientist in her has always searched for. He tries to hook her in by simultaneously appealing to her intellectual interests as well as her understanding of the web of relationships when he claims she is another link in the chain that leads to Adriel...

And Jillian refuses him.

Kristian would never convince her of already being within this specific network of relationships because he was the one to rupture it first.

To these women, unlike the men, it's not about ideas — or, rather, about rationalisations, given how their interpretation of what is logical or reasonable is more than open to inquiry. To these women, it's not about loud, large but empty words vulnerable to tampering and shifting meanings; it's not about power.

It's about people.

Rosemarie Tong says "Gilligan believed that women's moral development takes her from an egocentric, or selfish position to an overly altruistic, or self-sacrificing position and, finally, to a self-with-others position in which her interests count as much as anyone else's" — and this seems to describe perfectly well the inner trajectory that these characters follow. We see traces of the selfish in Ava, Jillian and Lilith, as well as of the self-sacrificial in Beatrice or Suzanne, but they all appear to converge on this path towards constructing a "self-with-others" whereby they are all individuals inextricably tied to one another — and aware of it, acting accordingly. A sisterhood, a direct sisterhood that supersedes the very church structure which facilitated it to begin with.

Of course Warrior Nun is too intricately built to allow itself to be so smoothly explained; if Carol Gilligan provides a framework that helps us to identify what is so positive and deserving of attention in the female characters' attitudes as championed by one of the show's own writers, it also falls short on other points and her propositions can then be questioned by the show in turn.

We need but a few examples.

If Jillian Salvius values the significance of association with others more than she does a cold, distant overview of things (the latter being the stereotypical scientist attitude), then how is it that she seems so prepared to immolate Lilith at the altar of curiosity? One relationship takes precedence over the other, yes, and we cannot compare the love for a son to whatever affection or respect there is for anyone else, but the nature of Jillian's experimentation with Lilith, had it gone forward, is quite brutal even for the sake of a debilitated child. Jillian's stance is understandable, but this "self-with-others" thing isn't as clear-cut as we might think.

Lilith herself oscillates between those three positions of moral development described by Gilligan, going from selfish to "connected" by the end of season one, but ending season two in almost complete isolation, with only a hint towards her previous place in a web of sisters as she aids Beatrice in getting Ava to the ark... Shortly after having dug her claws into the warrior nun's flesh.

But perhaps Lilith is a more special case than we realise at first. Our early childhood experiences define much of our character, after all, and the words we use have a bearing on how we view and reconstruct the world in our discourse; Lilith's understanding of the relationships between people, of "family", probably doesn't reflect that of her sisters given the ill-treatment she must have received from her relatives. If one's primary web of relationships is so tainted, what model can it ultimately provide for later connections? Just as Ava's mistrust for nuns is justified by her previous, negative experiences at their hands, Lilith's experience with intimate or familial bonds surely affects her maturing sense of being linked to other people. If family is a positive value for Ava and Mary, for example, it cannot boast of the same meaning for Lilith, whose family is a source of stress and misunderstanding rather than a harbour of love.

The treatment she has received might have corrupted her grounds for moral judgment by communal lenses in a way Beatrice's rejection by her own parents did not, leaving Lilith adrift as long as she does not somehow attempt to re-signify what human connection ultimately means. To Lilith, as of yet, the web of relationships she necessarily belongs to mirrors the initial disposition she was brought up in, as a hierarchical structure where every link is tainted by the stench of power and domination — the OCS is a family much like her own... Where orders are given and meant to be obeyed.

We cannot know for certain what it is that she sees or feels after Adriel "unlocks" her wraith-vision, but there is something peculiar in how, reflecting this idea of abstract versus material views of the world we've been discussing, Lilith claims to see reality when she casts her eyes upon the nebulous demonic figures only few others can see. In her opposing traits are mixed, delivering a strange synthesis we cannot quite make out yet and making Lilith a hybrid both in body and in thought.

And while this fact alone seems to interrogate David Hayter's comment about how the women in the show tend to be correct, we can further complicate the statement by glancing at Reya.

There is frightfully little we know of her, but a lot of the information we do have is conflicting: Reya is unimaginably powerful, yet needs to manipulate two young people to do her bidding for her in fighting Adriel; her predictions are "meant to be" yet do not manifest in the way they were said to; she is described as some sort of benefactor by taking Michael in, but she sticks a bomb into his chest and the very sight of her sends him reeling; she is, as far as we know, a woman, yet she might very well be at odds with the other women we see in the show. How, then, are the women always right?

Perhaps they are so when following their conscience as guided by their understanding of community and sisterhood, when belonging to a network of relationships and acknowledging it. That would exclude a murderous sister Frances, a confused Lilith and a mysterious, distant Reya from the definition.

In this sense, then, even if the characters are not static or simple, even if they waver between the moral positions suggested by Gilligan and which do not seem all that definite to begin with, her text is still enlightening as relates to why the women are, "word of God", the moral touchstone of Warrior Nun.

Having been robbed of further development of the story and universe for the time being, however, precisely because of an abstracting, impersonal corporate logic that sees only numbers where there should be people and the wonderful effect this show has had on them, there is only so much we can conjecture on this subject...