☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]
{☆} characters furina, neuvillette
{☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader
{☆} warnings none
{☆} word count 1.9k
{☆} previous [ 1 ]
This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.
She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.
But it'd been almost a week since then.
The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.
That counted for something.
Not much, but something!
..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.
There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.
She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.
So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.
Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.
Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.
Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.
She really didn't like it.
There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.
She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.
She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.
That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.
Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.
But he wasn't.
He was out running her nation, instead.
And what was she doing? Nothing!
She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.
Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.
Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.
..She wasn't ready.
What was she supposed to say?
Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?
She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.
For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.
Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.
Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.
It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.
"Focalors?"
The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.
She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.
"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"
The silence is deafening.
She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!
"Lady Furina?"
Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.
"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.
Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.
Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.
"Why aren't you killing me?"
The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.
She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.
"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."
The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.
He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.
..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?
How unfair.
"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"
She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.
..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.
She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.
For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.
Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.
For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.
Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.
She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.
She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.
She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.
"Again."
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My dude, all your fanfics and ideas for baby Tails break my heart. I need more! How do you think Sonic would take care of a sick Tails? Do you think Tails would be so delirious with fever that he would not calm down until Sonic holds him? Who knows....
Glad to know I’m damaging your heart! That’s my whole goal, thank you for reading!
We don’t have nearly enough Tails’ sick fics out there, but BABY TAILS sick fics? We have a shortage, and that can’t be.
Now, as for how would sonic react to a sick baby tails, in case of a babyfied Tails there’s a variety of angst and comfort levels all around, but, if it were the unbreakable bond early days, both little Sonic and baby Tails? He’d be so stressed! These kids are all alone, don’t have a home, and clearly are not medicine professionals, so just try and imagine poor little Sonic panicking because suddenly his tiny fox kit started coughing and wheezing and he doesn’t know what to do, and poor baby Tails longing for Sonic to just hold him and tell him everything would be right?
Just imagine…
Sonic knew Tails was small
Tails was already so small, way too little for a four year old, his arms and legs way too short, his fluffy fur hiding how thin he was, and his tails big enough to blanket him almost completely, he was way too adorable, and so, so small.
But looking at him, right now, with the sweat staining his messy fur, his ears flatted down to his skull, and his little nose sneezing restlessly while he tried to curl into the littlest, tiniest ball of fur ever with little whines and whimpers leaving his throat almost every time he breathed, all while the speedster could just sit beside him cause nothing he did seemed to soothe him, Sonic felt like he was the small one.
Worried? an understatement. Scared? An inexactitude. Sonic was right down panicking.
The blue blur could handle 10 ton killing machines, ruthless natural disasters and evil crazy scientists threatening to end the world every day. But hiding from the rain in a cold, dark cave, sitting on the rocky ground beside a sweaty sick fox cub who pretty much looked like he war right up dying? Seeing and hearing how every cough and sneezed hurt him from the inside? He wasn’t sure he could handle this.
Tails was breathing heavily, almost like crying, but no tears left his eyes, not that he could see them anyway, he hadn’t opened his eyes since a few hours ago, sniffing and getting coughing fits every few minutes while his chest made a rumbling sound, but it wasn’t the kind of rumbly buzzing it made when the kit was all snoozed close to Sonic, when he wasn’t sick, when he wasn’t in pain. He wants that sound back.
The warmth that surrounded the little fox was nothing like the comfortable coziness Sonic felt whenever he snuggled close to him, when his little paws would reach for Sonic’s arm and try to hug him, when the little kid’s head below his chin felt like he was holding the most softest, warmest, freshly baked bread bun in the world. No, this wasn’t like that. This time, the heat that evolved him felt like hell was inside the kit’s skin trying to melt both himself and Sonic’s heart.
Sonic knew that being sick felt like freezing in your own cold sweat, your body fighting against itself trying to stay alive, even if it meant setting itself ablaze while feeling so he didn’t wanted to rip the thin blanket way from him, but the kid was not just warm, he was burning.
There was nothing his speed could do against the baby fox’s inmune system, nothing that his quills could break with a spindash, no way he could just take the kid and try outrun the threat.
He gave him all the water they had, tried to put some wet rags on his body and spent his very last dime on some cough syrup that didn’t seemed to be of much help. Tails was hurting, and Sonic couldn’t do anything about it.
He doesn’t know how didn’t he noticed him getting ill, sure, he was kinda quiet, but it have been raining for some days now and neither of them enjoyed stormy nights, both of them stayed silent when they were sad or upset, so he thought it was probably just that.
It wasn’t.
He did everything he knew was supposed to be done when a kid was sick, even when said kid’s little paws weakly waved him away when he tried to comfort him, even when he pouted and whined as he was forced to drink some water so he wouldn’t dehydrate, and even if he refused to open his mouth every time he needed to take his medicine; poor kid must be so scared and confused, not fully awake curling in himself not to show his face to Sonic, he must think someone was trying to hurt him. He must think he was alone again.
Sonic hadn’t left his side in hours, he wasn’t planning to, and yet, he was starting to feel lonely himself.
Tails thought he wasn’t a bad kid anymore.
He’d been told all his life than only bad kids would get sick like him. All the adults from his hometown yelling at him for even daring to get close to the village when he was coughing. All the other kids running from him when he sneezed. And his own body betraying him whenever he tried to stand while his head felt like exploding.
Apparently being “cursed” with twin tails wasn’t enough. He was bad enough of a kid to be sick almost everyday of his life before he met Sonic.
Tails knew only bad kids got sick. Because bad kids who stole from peoples garbage would get the most horrible tummy aches. Because bad kids who stayed in the rain when there was a storm would always fall to the ground when their chest made those nasty grumbly sounds that hurt every time they breathed. Because only bad kids would vomit nothing but liquid when they took water that wasn’t theirs.
He thought that now that he was with Sonic and didn’t need to do any of that, then maybe he was a good kid, maybe the universe forgave him, maybe the cosmos knew he always tried to help Sonic save the world, maybe reality wasn’t as cruel as to make him sick now that he was a good kid!, so he ignored the lingering pain in his chest whenever he talked for too long, he didn’t mention anything about how stuffed his nose felt and how nauseous the thought of food made him feel, neither about how as the hours passed he felt like his body was trying to cook itself alive, he was a good kid now, so it must’ve been a defense mechanism against the cold weather, nothing else.
But he did got sick, so he was still a bad kid.
It was fine, he had been through this before, he just needed to wait a little while, maybe less than two weeks, he was in better shape now than last time this happened, when he was alone and got sick he knew if was hungry enough he would just fall asleep for a few days and wake up with a horrible headache and a runny nose, but that just meant he would feel better in three or four more days, he could take it. But he wasn’t alone now, and even if his heart wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his big brother’s arms until he got better…. He didn’t want Sonic to go through that, Sonic wasn’t a bad kid, he was the bestest friend in the world, the bestest greatest brother in the world, he didn’t deserved to get sick.
So even if he couldn’t open his eyes, even if all his body hurt like he was made of broken glass, he waved him away, surely Sonic didn’t know he could get sick from being around him, so he needed to protect Sonic from his sickness, he needed to protect Sonic from him. Even if he tried to pet his forehead or scratch behind his ears, and even if Tails wanted nothing more than to be hugged by him, he needed to protect Sonic, so he curled in himself, rolled on his side when his brother got too close, and even scratched his arms when he tried to pet him. Tears finally started rolling down his tired eyes when he heard his brother’s sudden hiss to the touch of his claws, no, anything but that, he didn’t wanted to hurt him, he didn’t wanted him to be ill, he didn’t wanted his brother to suffer because of some cursed freak, and now he was the one crying, he didn’t deserved to cry, he didn’t got time to cry, he could already feel the rest of his energy going away with the falling of his tears, his body already felt so heavy, sleep taking him down more and more with every heart beat, and as much as it hurt, he needed to get his brother away from him or he would try to comfort him again, he couldn’t risk Sonic getting sick just for petting him.
Bad kids didn’t deserved to be petted.
That was it. Trembling and whining were bad enough besides being sick, but tears? The blood coming out from the little claw scratches on his forearm didn’t sting nearly as much as the tears falling down the kid’s eyes did.
No, he couldn’t take it anymore, it didn’t matter if he scratched his face, growled at him or bit his hands, he couldn’t give him a solid home, five star medical care or even a proper bed, but he could give him this.
He was no doctor, and he knows that no amount of hugs could cure the little fox, but again, no doctor could really know how much better it made Tails feel whenever he was hugged, but Sonic knew, cause no matter when or how, or the limited time’s he’s done it, but he knows that for this tiny baby fox, hugs made him sleep, hugs made him purr, and hugs made him smile. When all the wet rags, medicine and blankets don’t do their job, hugs were the best comfort in the world.
And so the speedster finally placed himself on the ground, not just beside the fox, but completely surrounding him, holding him close to his chest while the kit mumbled silent whines and tried to move his paws against him, hoping the lullaby of his heartbeat could be enough to soothe the little cub, longing for the calm sound of his brother’s almost silent snoring, demanding to anything that’s out there to let him keep his brother alive, to let him end his pain and make him smile soon.
He didn’t really believed in anything up there, if they were real, they weren’t doing their job if the traumatized kid in his arms had anything to say. But Sonic believed in himself, and if the universe wanted to take his kid from him, they’d have to rip him from his dead cold hands, and he wasn’t going anywhere.
He held Tails even closer, whispering soft nothings to him, the kit’s wet nose pressing to his chest while he pet his ears and ran his fingers through his bangs, the fox’s whimpers and loud breathing made his heart ache, but he was still breathing, all cold, sweaty and scared, but breathing.
He wasn’t crying anymore, no longer fighting his big brother’s embrace, no longer trying to get away or to hide from him, and suddenly melting into his touch, relaxed enough that Sonic could feel the heartbeat on his chest against his own.
Then the most beautiful sound ever blessed his ears.
Tails didn’t know why Sonic didn’t leave him alone. He didn’t know why he seemed even more eager to get close to him after he hurt him to the point of bleeding. He didn’t know why he got to the ground and held him closer to his chest when the tears appeared, when he was the one who hurt him. And he didn’t know why he didn’t try to stop him. He needed to protect him, he was barely awake but he could try a last effort. He could push him away. Letting him know he was dangerous to be around one last time. He had to.
His brother’s heartbeat was always fast, almost sounding like a buzzing instead, what would be annoying to most people, but to Tails? Being held right now, his head cradled to the crook of his hero’s neck, listening from up close to the rapid beat, it was the most soothing sound he’s ever heard. As much as he needed to push Sonic away, and as much as his mind told him to protect him, his heart knew that being there, in his big brother’s arms, he didn’t wanted to move away from there, ever. It felt like the safest place in the world. It was the safest place in the world.
Just being there close enough to feel the hedgehog’s breathing over him, getting his forehead rubbed and his ears scratched while the speedster’s voice engraved itself in his heart, It made his headache almost bearable, his tears slowly stopped, his breathing no longer felt like chocking, and the warmth that he felt before was no longer burning, but rocking him to slumber.
Only good kids deserved to be held with love, he knows that, he was never held like this before. Even when every single person on his home island refused to even touch him if it wasn’t to hurt him, and even if he doesn’t remember ever being held like this by his parents, Sonic was here, holding him. His brother was holding him.
The pain and sorrow that embraced him finally being replaced by a comforting rumbling coming from his own chest.
Maybe he was a good kid after all.
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