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kasagia · 6 months

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In the darkness

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! Alina's sister! Sun Summoner! reader Summary: After you and Alina destroyed the fold, she killed Aleksander and became queen at Nikolai's side, you took the place, tittle and chambers of the General of the Second Army. And then... strange things starts to happen in the darkness. Warning(s): obsessive behaviour; toxic relationship; voyeurism; Aleks manipulates the reader, the reader gives in to him; the reader is alone and needs someone *cough* her Darkling; fight; violence; dark reader; Word Count: 9,2 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You won. Alina won. The fold did not exist anymore… as well as he. Ravka was safe. And the new royal couple was supposed to provide it with peace and splendor. That's what they were saying.

Nobody talked about the fallen. About the thousands of Grishas still living in fear. About thousands were imprisoned by Fjerdans and Shu-Hans who experimented on them.

All that mattered was that the Darkling was dead. The darkness disappeared. The shadows left with their last summoner, whose body he begged you to burn.

And maybe, after all, he was cruel. Maybe he knew that despite everything he had done, you still loved him, and his request (as well as his staring at you as if you were his only light and the only one thing he wanted to look at before his death) would completely break your already battered heart.

Maybe that was his last act of manipulation and control over you. A pleasure he couldn't slip out of his fingers. Maybe seeing you sobbing over him was the last goal he set for himself, before he leaves this world after the centuries he has lived. Centuries of constant fighting and flight. Centuries of leaving in his own shadows, in hatred, each time he looked at the fold, he was reminded that he wasn't able to achieve his goal.

That he was utterly alone...

Just as you are now.

Or maybe he just loved you, and you didn't want to admit it to yourself...

And now, laying on the bed in which he used to sleep, on the bed he used to hold you, on the bed he spent with you many sleepless nights and long, late mornings, you know that no matter what renovation this room will have, it will always remind you of him.

Your Aleksander... your equal... your monster.

You shiver as the cold, winter air comes to his... your room. You get up from the bed and walk to the window to close the door.

You look at the palace gardens and immediately remind yourself of the days before you found out he was Black Heretic, before that fatal Winter Fete.

Two years ago, Aleksander was chasing you around gardens, laughing, snowballs fighting, and doing all the stupid things he couldn't do in the daylight.

Two years ago, your life looked like a fairytale, and you were blessed to live in it. Now it is much closer to tragedy. And knowing how the events would turn out, you would have definitely cherished those simple, peaceful days with Aleksander by your side more while they lasted.

You sigh, absently stroking your right hand where Aleksander ordered David to physically embed the amplifier into you a few months ago.

You were pathetic. Missing the man who manipulated you, who hurt your sister, who wanted to kill your friends, who hurt Genya... but that was why you couldn't fully hate him. He did everything to achieve his goal. He hurt everyone who stood in his way.

Except you.

Never you.

And it hurt more than if he had physically hurt you.

He always held you up as his equal. The son of a bitch even had his kefta re-stitched to have gold embroidery to represent your power. He wore your combined colours with pride. Just like you did before you discovered how many sweet lies he had fed you since the day you first met him.

Tears come to your eyes as you remember how that fucking bastard, moments before Alina drove the shadow sword through his abdomen, lunged at his Nichevo'yas to stop them from attacking you. You saw the vulnerability and the fear in his eyes until your light drove the shadow monsters away from you. And relief, which was replaced by painful shock when Alina took advantage of his moment of inattention and killed him.

It had never occurred to you to hurt Alina before... except that fateful day.

You wipe the tears from your cheeks with your hand and turn to go back to the bed. You had a meeting with several colonels, including Fedyor and Ivan. The two were also torn apart by the war.

At least Fedyor still has his Ivan alive to atone for his sins. - you think bitterly, even jealousy, as you somehow manage to fall asleep in this big, empty, cold bed.

And when you close your eyes, the candle that was lit on the nightstand that once belonged to Aleksander goes out as you fall into a deep sleep.

If you had been a little more alert, you would have seen shadows that created a curtain covering the window, thus blocking the moonlight from entering your chamber.

"I have no intention of punishing them, Alina." you tell your sister as you work at the war table. Aleksander's plans were somehow still preserved. And you review them, updating and changing them according to your needs.

"They fought alongside the Darkling. What kind of general are you? What example will you set by not punishing those who defied the crown and followed their Black General?"

"That's why I have no intention of doing anything about it, your majesty. You were Grisha yourself before you lost your powers. Whose side would you fight for—the king who hates them or the general who gave them a safe place? And please try to put aside our personal prejudices and see the whole thing, not just a little peace through the prism of your hatred towards him, because we both know damn well that Aleksander was many things. A good commander was one of them."

"I never wanted to be a Grisha." Alina says this with pain in her eyes. You know this very well. You wouldn't have wanted to be a Sankta or general either... if it weren't for Aleksander.

"But you were. You can't just forget about that, Sol Koroleva."

"You're definitely not making it easy for me." she sighs tiredly, smiling at you. She sits down in the chair next to you and takes your hand. "If I could turn back time and... not bring Mal back to life and not lose my power, I would. I wouldn't leave you alone with this, you know, right?"

"I know... but that's not how things went..." you say, swallowing, as you let go of the papers and look at your sister. "But that's okay. I will keep an eye on your children and grandchildren... Maybe one of them will become the next Sun Summoner? Who knows?" you laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but by the look Alina gives you, you know that your tone wasn't as carefree as you wanted it to be.

"Y/N... I'm sorry." you interrupt her before she begins to pity you, before her compassion overwhelms you to the point where you sink into your own pain and suffering, which inevitably entails an eternity ahead of you. And that was just the beginning.

"You don't have to... I... I can always die somehow. I don't have to live forever."

"We both know that's not in your blood to give up. You will fight till the end... till Grishas and Ravkans will live as equals in a safe country."

"Maybe yes... or maybe I will throw it all to hell and go around the world. I remember that Kaz once proposed to me to join their little group of thieves. It could be fun."

You both laugh at that. Then Alina gives you a sad, apologetic look before asking you a very dangerous and… hurting question.

"Do you miss him? Aleksander?"

A dead silence falls between you after her whispering question. As if his name were something forbidden to say out loud between you two. You play with the sleeve of your white kefta with gold embroidery, wondering how to answer this obvious question.

"Sometimes... but I guess it's only because I don't want to... to be alone like him..."

"Did you love him? At the day I killed him?" she asks, assuming that you stopped loving him at the moment he stopped breathing; at the moment when his black, poisoned by Merzost heart stopped beating… as it was just that simple for you to forget about him. The man who made you who you are now. The man who was first to show you how extraoridnary you are. Who understood you more than your sister - your supposed closest person in the world.

"I care more to have someone by my side through all of this that's about to happen… someone who will stay for longer than almost a century. I guess I'm starting to understand why he was chasing after us… why he wanted us by his side in his damn glorious purpose."

"He was chasing after you. He only cared about you. Not only because you were a Sun Summoner." she says it so lightly and so obviously that you start to wonder if she's deliberately trying to break you.

But if Aleksander taught you anything, it was how to keep your true emotions deep inside your heart. So you put your lips into a mocking smile and reply to her in a joking tone.

"Maybe. We will never find out. Anyway, I don't want to."

Fedyor's and Ivan's arrival rescued you from this unconvenient conversation. You nod to Alina as she leaves. She gives Ivan a hating, untrusyful look before guards close the door behind her. You look at the two heartrenders.

"It's good to see you both. I have some questions about these plans, and as general Kirigan's closest people, I assume, you both can explain some things to me, which I don't quite get right now."

You clear your throat, trying to forget about what you and Alina were talking about and focus on what the two men in front of you are saying. But it's hard to look at the Dark General's notes and plans and just not think of your Aleksander... Especially when those damn wooden soldiers are just as spread out on his war table as they were on the night of the Winter Fiesta when you run away from him.

And you have neither the heart nor the strength to move it to another place…

"Fedyor, can you leave us both for a while? You can wait for Ivan behind the door." you say after you've gotten through most of the stuff. Fedyor gives you a surprised look but doesn't question your order. He goes out, leaving you with Ivan, who has been giving you an unfavourable, almost hostile look since he sat down in the chair. You wouldn't care if the situation didn't require you to cooperate with him. After all, he was Aleksander's right-hand man. He probably knew the most about war tactics in the entire Second Army. And now that the fold was gone and you had to defend and fortify yourselves on all fronts, you would need all the help you could get. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's your problem?" you ask the heartrender, watching him carefully.

You both stared at each other for a moment. Ivan tries to hold back something, but the moment he notices Aleksander's ring—the only souvenir you let yourself leave after him—something inside him breaks.

"How dare you sit in his chair, having his tittle, want to do exactly the same things in the Second Army, using the same tactics as he did? You all are no different from him. Actually, you are much worse, and you call him a monster when everything he did was for us. For our safety, so that we can finally break free from the power of Otkazat'syas."

"I know you were loyal to him, but..."

"He had done nothing wrong. And you know it." he cuts you off before you can say anything else. The feeling of guilt awakens within you again, the uncomfortable lump in your throat every time you talk to someone about him growing stronger again. "I hope you also know that you and your sister destroyed everything he was working at. That Ravka will spill blood under your rule. That Lantsov prince will be the same as his father, as every king from their dynasty was."

"Be careful how you talk to me. I am your general now, Ivan. You should probably get used to it, before I change my mind and let Alina execute you." you say it coldly and grab a glass from the table to drink the whisky. "You can leave now."

"Of course, general." he said coldly, but before he stood up to leave, he put a black envelope on your desk.

"What is that?" you ask him, but he just bows to you and leaves. Only when the door closes behind him with a bang do you allow yourself to take the envelope in your hands.

Seeing Aleksander's seal—the eclipsed sun—makes you release the envelope from your hand as if it was burning you. You let it fall to the desk; your eyes focused only on it.

You hold your breath as your fingers land on the seal and stroke it tenderly. You remember the first letter you received from him... right after your first night together, when he had to leave the Little Palace for a while on important matters. He wrote to you every day until he came back again, heading straight into your arms and ignoring the fact that the General of the First Army and the colonels were waiting for him in the council chamber.

With trembling hands, you take the dagger and cut the envelope at the top so as not to break the last seal he left behind and get into the contents of the envelope.

A pendant falls from the envelope with a clatter onto the table. You leave the envelope with the letter and take the pendant in your hands, looking at it carefully.

It is a silver, convex oval with some vines engraved on the front, decorated with small, round pieces (your favourite gemstone). Initials are engraved on the back: A.M. You huff, realising that even in death, he wanted to make sure you were his in some way. And you're about to put the pendant down and hide it somewhere, where you would never find it again, but then suddenly you press something and it opens.

You gasp as you see what's hidden inside. Bone. A medium-sized, most likely from a wrist, finger, or other small part of the skeletal system.

You rummage through the envelope, and, apart from the letter, you find a small note that was probably attached to the necklace.

In case you need a reminder of your real power...

You lift the bone and feel your power flow through you, amplified. You sigh, feeling just like those months ago when his skin pressed against yours as he let you draw on his empowering abilities. You feel a tear roll down your cheek as you tremble with an overwhelming, long-forgotten feeling.

A knock on the door makes you panic, opening your desk drawer and gathering all your items into it. You close the drawer just as Zoya walks in, followed by your colonels. You rub your forehead, mentally getting ready for the next meeting.

However, you can't stop thinking about the envelope and necklace from Aleksander hidden in the drawer.

And if you were more observant, you would notice how shadows are hiding in the corner of the war room, watching you attentively, waiting for the right moment when they can come out of their hiding place. Or at least a bee that flew out of an open window.

You lie in your bed late at night. You stopped trying to fall asleep a long time ago. You laied on your back, breathing calmly with your eyes closed as you were wondering about the new informations from the camps close to the border.

The war was comming. You had right. Aleksander had right. Fjerdans and Shu-Hans wanted to use occasion and attack Ravka, since a fold has gone and now nothing stopped them from attack a West Ravka. If you lost your ports and supplies of food, raw materials and gold, you will lose that war and many will lose their lifes.

You were laying there, wondering about your next move in upcoming war. You shiver suddenly, feeling oddly. A strange chill spread through your body as you went into a more alert mode.

Subconsciously, you look around in the dark, trying to spot the dark, familiar irises. You're doing it under some irrational delusion that he is able to observe you even when he is dead. That he can watch your every move even though you watched his body burn...

Although he has already proved many times in his long, many-centuries life that he is capable of anything he wants...

With a flip of your wrist, a ball of light appears in a room. There was no one. Just you and your paranoya You frown and remove the ball of light as you lay back on the bed.

You sigh heavily, lying on your side. You watch a candle burning on the nightstand on the side that used to be Aleksander's. You watch the fire for a moment, admiring the colours of the flame and how it goes along with a soft wind from the opened window, and then blow it out. You close your eyes, listening to your surroundings, and just as you're about to drift off into blissful unconsciousness, you hear something like a cold whisper in your ear, which makes you shiver.

They are going to lose. They can't rule this country. They know nothing about the pain of war.

That tought appear in your mind, sounding extremaly like somebody you used to know very well... you shake your head. You were not going to imagine his voice on your head. You weren't go mad, were you?

Besides, that was a stupid tought. You will figure it out with Alina and the rest, just as you always do. Grishas will be safe. You will sacrifice your life to make it happen. Horrifyingly, you realise that someone before you has taken a similar oath.

Yet still, you can't help but look at the side of your chamber where Aleksander's letter is, hidden in your desk's drawer. You are so tempting to read it, even after all that happened between you both.

"Get out of my head." you whisper to yourself, as he was still linked with you somehow. As he was still able to appear in a room with you at any second.

You missed him. You admit it to yourself in the darkness of the bedroom you two used to share. But that didn't mean that you would bring him back in some way. He was too dangerous for the good of other people and too unpredictable. Irronicaly, he cared too much. And you were afraid that you were inevitably walking in his path; you were in the same place as he was all those years and centuries ago. But, contrary to him, you will have no one by your side. You will be utterly alone.

You try fall asleep, closing your eyes and ignoring the tears that fall on your pillow. If you learned anything from Aleksander, it was to let no one witness your suffering. They wouldn't understand your pain anyway.

There were no others like you. And there will never be ever again…

Against your better judgement, you quickly get up from the bed, and, before you can change your mind, with a ball of white light in your hand, you walk to the desk, illuminating your path.

You open the drawer and pull out that damned letter, hoping that reading it will give you some kind of closure you need.

You hold it with trembling hands, trying to ignore the fact that Aleksander's familiar handwriting was less refined and more cursive and simpler. There were also black traces of his blood in some places on the page. Even before you start reading, your heart sinks as you think about how Merzost was slowly killing him, as he was completely alone after Baghra's death—as alone as you are now.

And the first line is enough to bring the first pitiful tears to your eyes.

Moya milaya. Moya soverenyia,

The damn bastard knew you would take over his position. He was probably having a lark in hell right now, watching you cry over his letter, how you regretted every decision you made that got you here, and how you tried so hard to hate him with all your heart, but you just simply couldn't. And that made you hate yourself more when, despite everything, you entered the trap he had prepared specially for you while he was still living and clutched the letter in your hands, trying to read it despite the tears constantly appearing in your eyes and blurring your vision.

He wrote to you what you have already heard. That he isn't sorry, that he would do the exact same things except that he would make you his equal, that he wouldn't let you escape his grasp so easily, that he would kill all your loved ones just to be your only shelter where you could go in case of any danger, or simply when you were too overwhelmed by loneliness, like he was many times in his very long life.

And you should hate him. You should be disgusted by this toxic relationship, by his obsessive desire for possession, and by his fear of abandonment. And you could already feel yourself being filled with spite and resentment towards this man, a man who had ruined the relatively peaceful lives of you and your sister... But as you read the last lines of his letter, your feelings towards him became more unclear than before reading that damn letter.

I will be waiting for you. With open arms.

Maybe time will help you realise that there is no other way and that my actions will be yours in the future… that I was not the villain in this story, even if I seemed to be a monster to you, my little Sankta.

Maybe you will finally come to accept that you and I are unity and that we belonged to each other even before the saints decided to create the two of us.

Eya fyela chi(I love you), moya solnyshka.

I always did.

Yours,

Aleksander

You didn't sleep anymore that night. Instead, you lie in bed, your thoughts filled with this damn man who, even after his death, continues to abuse your already bleeding heart for him.

Midnights become your afternoons, that were the hours when your brain works best. You stoped burning candles at night. Surprisingly, you were thinking much better when you were in complete darkness, where the only light comed from the moon shining through the open balcony door.

You spent many nights in bed writing in a notebook, taking notes and plans that came to you as the moon hung in the sky and most of the Little Palace fell asleep.

It has become your little ritual. You sipped kvass or whisky, thinking of military tactics and other manoeuvres in case Ravka was attacked by its neighbors. You often had Aleksander's old notes spread around you. And even more often, you twirled his necklace in your fingers as you pondered over your plans.

You stopped visiting Alina in the Grand Palace. You were less and less likely to be seen by her side. But you were almost always in Alexander's library, the war room, and the training field, looking after the young Grishas who trained under the supervision of Ivan, Fedyor and Zoya.

Without knowing why, you always waited until dusk. It was your favorite time and you couldn't even say why…

Maybe if you noticed that every time you fell asleep, tired, over your notebook, thoughts that didn't belong to you suddenly appeared on the paper; maybe if you noticed how your rooms were covered with more and more shadows night after night, blocking out the moonlight, to get you to sleep faster; and maybe if you noticed how the blanket wrapped tighter around you as you drifted off to sleep and your forehead was tickled by the touch of something soft and warm; then you would realise what was inevitably to come.

Or rather, who kept his eyes on you each night, hidden in the darkness and shadows of the chamber...

Kissing someone else's lips seemed sacrilegious to you. You felt like you were doing something wrong, like you were desecrating and breaking all moral laws. But after all, you were a free, single woman, a general leading her people to war.

You could have relaxed and slept with some handsome Inferni who offered to worship his saint, couldn't you?

As it turned out, you couldn't.

You kissed the man hungrily and threw off his kefta. The moment he reached for the buttoms of your own, he unexpectedly stumbled and fell straight into the spear that was in the rack for swords and other weapons.

You stood there in shock for a moment, wondering how on earth he did this. And if you had been more attentive, you would have noticed how the shadows quickly fled from your gaze, and two dark eyes watched intently as you helped Inferni stop the bleeding enough for him to make it to the healers' tent.

You sigh in frustration as the man disappears from your sight. You clean up his blood and wash your hands before taking off your clothes.

It gives you chills. Not because the cold air of the tent hits your hot skin, but because you feel a slight tickle at the most sensitive point of your neck.

You turn and look around the tent carefully.

For the past few weeks, as soon as you left the Little Palace, you had a strange feeling that something was fleetingly brushing against you from time to time. The feeling of this strange, ghostly touch accompanied you both day and night, whenever you were alone with your thoughts. You thought it was some kind of paranoia and tried to brush this feeling off. After all, no one could touch you if you were clearly alone in the room, with no sign of another living soul.

Once you're sure you're alone, you rub your hands over your arms. Your arousal and desire quickly fade as you remember the battle that awaits you tomorrow—the first as a general of the Second Army. You make sure your weapons and combat kefta are ready and in place before you go into bed and fall into a fitful sleep.

A few hours later, as you lie there, dreaming deeply, your tent fades to black. From the shadows emerged none other than Aleksander.

The man slowly walked towards you, careful not to make any move that would increase your vigilance. Ever since you left the walls of the Little Palace, it has become easier and easier for him to make his way to you, thanks to the bond he established between the two of you by giving you a piece of his bone in a necklace.

It boiled inside him when he saw you with another man. He acted rashly and instinctively, pushing him onto the spear. He was glad that you were careless enough not to notice his presence.

You weren't ready. Not yet.

And this time, he knew better than to push you forcefully into his plan.

"My little Sankta." he whispers, his hand gently brushing your curves hidden from his eyes under the blanket.

He doesn't do anything inappropriate. He would never take advantage of you or touch you against your will... well, at least not in any invasive way. He had several scenarios prepared in his head about how the night would go, when you would finally admit your true feelings and abandon the façade of a righteous Sankta of Ravkans and Grishas.

"Soon you'll realise what you're really missing." he whispers as his fingers tips caress the skin of your collarbones.

He picks up the necklace he gave you that you wore around your neck. He lets his shadows surround you, allowing the moonlight to shine on you enough for the silver pendant to reflect it, making it seem like it was glowing, as if it were a source of your powers.

"I will wait for you… until you finally come to me willingly and accept the obvious truth—that we belong together. I promise you, moya milaya, I won't let you forget this even for a moment. You're mine. You were mine the moment you entered that damn tent—the moment our eyes met before you went on the ship through the fold. You can't deny the connection between us. And soon, you will come to accept that you need a monster by your side. That without me, there will only be suffering, loss, and eternal struggle waiting for you. I've spent centuries struggling with all of this and much more… let's see how long this charming and annoying stubbornness of yours will last, lapushka. I have all the time on earth to watch you struggle with the hatred of this world all alone…"

He pulls the blanket tighter around you and takes the opportunity to inhale your scent, which he had missed so much during those months he had been hanging between the worlds of the living and the dead. He clung to his life with his claws... just to be this close to you again. And he knew he would do the exact same thing in a heartbeat if it led him close to you.

"And in time, when you realise that your little friends of yours are not enough for you, I will be back to you. And I will take you into my arms without hesitation. We are destined to be together. Sweet dreams, moya soverenyia." he whispers and places a tender kiss on your forehead.

You jump out of bed, screaming. You take a few quick breaths and put your hand to your mouth, trying to calm yourself down and not let the tears fall. Your tent is in complete darkness as you try to calm down from your nightmare in which all of your Grishas died in the battle, in which everyone blamed you and started to hunt you and chase after you, just like the king once chased after Aleks...

You let yourself cry silently into your pillow, unaware of the figure sitting next to you and a lifting hand that was just above you, moving as if stroking your back soothingly.

Eventually, you fall asleep, shaking. The shadow of your enemy and lover watches over you and keeps an eye on you without you being even slightly aware of it.

Two years, four months, one week and three days. That's how long the war with Fjerda and Shu Han lasted.

That's how long it took them to take over Ravka.

You have failed. Both the First and Second Armies.

Nikolai was dead. Alina was either dead or in hiding like you, although judging by the recent public execution of Zoya and Alina's other guards, you suspect they had her locked up somewhere until they caught you.

And they were doing very well, considering you were currently running through the forest, escaping from a group of Drüskelles.

You ran through the forest, the cold air stinging your hot cheeks as you made your way through the snowdrifts, occasionally sending a ball of light behind you to daze your pursuers and lose them, if only for a moment. But covering up your tracks was the worst thing—a nuisance worse than the cold seeping into your bones through your soaked clothes.

You hear a gunshot. You groan as the bullet bounces off your kefta, most likely adding another bruise to your collection.

Then everything happens quickly. You are surrounded and forced to fight with both your power and your melee. You're doing quite well when suddenly one of them twists your arm. You groan in pain and use one hand to summon a cut, but it is so weak that it only reaches the lesser half of the men.

As if in slow motion, you see one of the Drüskells pointing a gun at you. Then the clearing becomes dark. You step back in fear and stumble upon the body of one of the men you killed.

Everything goes quiet. There is a deathly silence in which you can only hear your wheezing and breathing. You summon your light and dispel the shadows to see the last person you expected to see... at least when you are still alive.

"But... I saw your death... I watched you burn..." you manage to stammer.

Aleksander just walks towards you, like it was a casual thing for him to do. His black kefta with gold embroidery is intact, at least compared to yours, which is blackened from bullets and patched in a few places. He looks practically like the day he died... except his face is devoid of black scars.

"Won't you even say hello to me, my Y/N?" he asks maliciously and extends his hand for you to take it and stand up with his help. You've seen this scene before. You've been in this situation before, and you promised yourself that you would never step into the same river again.

"You should be dead." you snap at him coldly and stand up on your own without his help. You see him frown as he takes a closer look at your dilapidated and miserable state as you try to move away from him as far as you can.

"Moya lapushka... do you think I would let something like death to keep me apart from you? That your little Sol Koroleva could ever kill me? After I lived a hundreds lifes? Fake a hundred deaths?" he asks mockingly, walking over to you. He cups your cheek in his hand and strokes it tenderly with his thumb. "No. I have too much experience with eternity, milaya. I promised you that you and I will change the world. I intend to keep that promise. As well as the one where I will always come back to you, remember?"

"You were here all this time... you watched me..."

"Simply keeping an eye on you." he interrupts you, and you give him a mad look, knowing full well that he's lying as you realise that all the random things and disasters that were happening around you were his fault... just like the few times you felt someone's ghostly touch on you. "Well... maybe I had also done a little bit more. But don't dramatise... after all, I have to look after what's mine."

"I was never yours." you say furiously, causing a hostile tension to arise between the two of you.

His presence brings you some relief, despite everything. But you know this feeling too well; you know HIM too well to let him manipulate you so he can use you in his plans again.

"Leave me. Live your life. I doubt anyone would be insane enough to resurrect you a second time." you growl angrily and run past him, hitting his shoulder with yours.

Before you can get away, he grabs your elbow. You hiss in pain, making him automatically let go of you. But he steps closer to you and carefully grabs your wrist, observing the blood seeping from your forearm and the swollen, bruised elbow—the result of your hand being twisted and falling to the ground—and the hard roots of the tree that had somehow broken through the now-red snow.

"You need a healer." he says calmly. He seems worried, as he is trying to stop the bleeding from your wound.

"I can handle it. Let me go." you say firmly. His dark-brown eyes meet yours, and you mentally curse yourself for how they can still charm you.

"Let me help you." he says it with such tenderness that you want to immerse yourself in his sweet words again, to surrender to that attraction that has always been present between you. "You don't have to be alone, moya milaya."

"I'm not alone." you deny quickly. However, you give in partially when the logical part of you allows him to give you a band-aid; this is something you are willing to accept from him.

"Aren't you, Y/N? Don't you feel a the weight of the fate of all Grishas on your beautiful, delicate shoulders? Haven't you misssed me all these single nights? When you were dreaming of my touch, of my voice..."

"And where were you when I really needed you?! When your people were dying on the borders! When innocent people died when they took Ravka! Where the hell were you then?!" you shout at him in anger and move away from him before he can tie a makeshift sling around your arm from the black shawl he untucked from around his neck.

"Making sure that YOU will not kill yourself, while playing a hero." he replies calmly, his gaze unwavering on you as his composure throws you even further off balance.

"If you care about me so much, why didn't you stand by my side? Why didn't you help me save Grishas?"

"You said yourself that you don't need a monster. That you can handle it perfectly well on your own, little Saint. I told you and tried to warn you that you can't do it on your own, and neither can I. But you had to be stubborn. These are your words: 'Let them come.' I did. I let them come. Are you satisfied?"

"You let all these people die to just prove your point?" you ask, shocked. He takes advantage of your momentary lapse in vigilance to bandage your arm and place it in a sling made of his black shawl.

"No. I let all these people die to make you see the truth that you are trying to avoid so hard."

"Which is?"

"Don't pretend, moya milaya. I am a patient man, but we lost enough time. Can you honestly claim that you are against me? That you would choose these fools over me again? That you didn't wish to have an equal again? Someone who will stand by your side no matter what? Someone who will protect you? I can be all of this to you and even more. All you have to do, lapushka, is accept that we are all we need. That you and I was enchanted to unite a long time ago. I want you to see all these things from my side of the story, to understand why I did what I did, and why I intend to continue what I have planned."

He talks so smoothly about death, as if it were nothing. And you would have the right to feel outraged by this fact and hate him again if the smell of the metallic blood of the people who hunted you wasn't in the air. People you killed without blinking an eye.

As he caresses your cheek tenderly and stares at you with affection and an understanding you haven't seen in anyone else's face since his death, you can't help but wonder... if he was actually right when he said that in time his actions would be yours.

He leans closer to you. Your noses brush as he rests his forehead against yours. You shiver, feeling his warm breath on your cheek.

"Aleksander..." you whisper shakily as his scent reaches you, his warmth warming your body, frozen from the cold and the exertion of running away. You feel like you're just realising that he's really here. That he's alive.

And you welcome the familiar tingle of your power inside you that he brings back to life with his amplifier powers as his lips capture yours.

And you wanted to move away. Really. You wanted to remain indifferent towards him and laugh at him for still feeling something for you. Scold him for even hoping that you would just melt back into his touch after what happened between you, how he hurt you, and how obsessive and possessive he was.

But all you do is moan against his lips as you respond to his kiss.

It's not one of those hungry, greedy kisses stolen in moments when you were completely alone and couldn't fight the growing tension between you any longer and just had to release it by consuming each other with your desires.

It's gentle, so much so that you're afraid that the butterfly feeling of his lips on yours will disappear in any moment and you'll find that he never came back, that he was just a sweet, cruel delusion of your exhausted mind.

But the moment he tangles one of his hands in the hair at the back of your head and puts the other on your waist to press you against the tree so gently as to not hurt you accidentally, you know it's real. And you can't stop responding to his kiss or pretending that you don't want to caress his lips with yours just as passionately. Or pretend that the thought of pulling away isn't sinful to you.

You pull away from each other after a long moment. Not far, though. His nose brushes against yours as you breathe heavily, both of you with your eyes closed, drinking in the other's warmth and scent after so many years of fighting with each other and your desires... after so many years of being utterly alone.

Your shaky breaths come out of your mouths in grey clouds and merge together. Only now do you notice how warm he is compared to you.

"Come. You can't stay here." he says, taking off his warm coat with black fur sewn to the hood. He puts it on you and pulls the hood over your head.

"You don't need to..." he interrupts you, picking you up in bridal style. He holds you close to his chest and walks in a direction unknown to you, a clear plan etched on his face as he scans the surroundings for any danger in your path. "Hey! Put me down! I can walk by myself! Besides, I don't want to go anywhere with you!" you protest, struggling in his arms.

"I know, milaya. Rest. I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to. I'm just making sure you will be safe when I'm gone. That's why I'm taking you to Grishas' camp. They will cure you there. Besides, your followers anxiously await your return, my little Saint. You are their only hope now."

"When you gone?" you ask slightly panicked and shift your gaze to him.

The weight of responsibility settles on your shoulders once again as you realise how many lives are counting on you... and the one person you can look to for support is, inconveniently, now something of an enemy to you.

But... can you feel towards your enemy the way you feel for him? Can you kiss an enemy as passionately as you did just a second ago? Can an enemy look at you with such care and adoration?

"Do you wish me to stay with you, lapushka?" he glanced at you briefly, just enough to ask you his question.

A dead silence falls between you. You don't need words to understand each other. And it was something that had always both terrified you and made the bond between you more and more irresistible. He knows the answer to your question. He knows you'll never admit it out loud. Or at least not at this moment.

Despite all this, he still holds you close. He leans down to place a kiss on your temple and whispers in your ear:

"I am... a very patient man, Y/N... I can wait, and I will. You will come to me yourself. And when you did... you wouldn't be able to resist or deny the truth about your feelings for another damn second. I will have you by my side. I can assure you that it will happen sooner than you think or are willing to admit."

You don't argue with him anymore. You just don't have the strength. Instead, you lean against him and fall asleep, wrapped in his scent, his warm coat, and his arms that make you feel safe. You decide to hate yourself later for what you feel right now.

After so many years, months, weeks, and days of fighting for your people and country completely on your own, you could afford the comfort of feeling his arms around you for just another few minutes, couldn't you?

It's been three months since you last saw him.

He left you at Grishas' camp just before the sun rose with a kiss on your forehead and a promise that you would meet again and that you would call for him again. Which you highly doubted. You already despised yourself and him enough to stay away from him... or at least pretend that's what you wanted.

During this months, you managed to save and lose many people—many good soldiers. And although you don't want to admit it, this time it makes you even more aware of the truth that Aleksander was trying to drill into your head before you destroyed the fold.

You wandered around like a child in the fog, trying to keep your morality, set an example for people, and play the role of a Sankta who abhors all evil and darkness. Only he had survived enough to know that morality could only be keept in human conditions—when you didn't have to worry about food, a warm place to sleep, or whether every breath you took wouldn't be your last.

But what really broke you wasn't the constant death, suffering, and screaming around you. It was the news of Alina's death.

It was this terrible emptiness, this feeling of helplessness and loneliness that grew inside you with each day, with each Grishas lost, with each drop of blood that soaked into your kefta.

And then you gave up.

"You won! Do you hear me?! YOU WON!" you screamed in your room at the camp after you returned from another mission to rescue imprisoned Grishas, which ended in the bloodiest of all. Which ended with the death of the last person you cared about. "Just come here… I can't… Aleksander, please. Please, I need you."

In your rage, you throw the bottle of alcohol against the wall and scream, falling to your knees. You wrap your arms tightly around yourself and cry, feeling the dried blood on your clothes.

You have enough. You had enough of this war. You didn't want to see your friends lose their lives. You were fed up with constant wars, fighting, and deaths around you.

You only knew one thing: you couldn't stand this alone. You simply must have had him by your side again Somoeone who will stay by your side and simply just be there for you. Someone who won't require you to save the world all by yourself.

"Aleksander, I beg you... please..." you whisper desperately while holding a pendant with his bone tightly in your hand. Maybe the fact that you never parted with that stupid necklace was a sign of what was inevitably to come.

Your failure. Your ruin.

But still, all you can do is melt into his arms as he comes to you through your bond and embraces you, pulling your shaking body into his lap and as close to him as possible.

"Shhh... it's okay, moya milaya, you are safe." he whispers in your ear as he holds you close to his chest with a hand on you mouth so you can make a sound. "As long as I am here, nothing will happen to you. You are not alone anymore and you never will be again, lapushka."

He strokes your hair and whispers words of comfort. A sweet nothing meant to calm you down. You still can't tell whether he does it out of love or because he needs you in his plans. And the scariest thing was that you didn't care as long as he held you, stayed by your side and didn't let you be alone.

If you were any less grief-stricken, you would wonder about the irony of this situation. The irony of how he foretold your fate. How he fulfilled his promise. How he became your only shelter.

"I will take care of everything. I'm not going anywhere. It is you and me, my Y/N. It's only you and me against them all. And we are all we need anyway. I will take good care of you, solnyshka. No more tears; no more lies and betrayals. Our life together is getting started exactly right now. And I can already promise you it will be an incredible future... moya tsaritsa. Ravka will be ours. We will free our people. We will made all of them pay for what they did to our kind. Grishas will enter their golden age under our rules. Nothing will stop us."

"Just... please come back." you sob into him. He tightened his arms around you and pressed his lips against your temple.

"I'm on my way, lapushka." he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear.

You shiver as the warmth of his arms suddenly disappears, and you're left alone, kneeling on the cold floor. You couldn't afford even the slightest remorse. All you could think about, and all you could wait for, was the moment he would come back here in the flesh.

You realised that loneliness was too dangerous an enemy for you that you (or anyone) were unable to defeat. Aleksander has been patiently waiting for years for you to come to this conclusion. A conclusion he understood the moment you fled the Little Palace with Alina and the crows, just before he could have a proper chance to propose to you.

But this time, he won't make that mistake again. He won't let you go of his grip once you came back to him.

The world needs a monster.

You understood his words the moment you created your own fold. A fold of white, pure light which killed anyone who tried to walk past it.

You saw the fear in everyone's eyes. Even your Grishas, whom you swore to protect. Only Aleksander's dark irises stared at you with admiration. Only he doesn't turn away from you, doesn't show any traces of dread.

Only he was brave enough to walk to you, and after that, he kissed you greedily after you all realised you won. Ravka belonged to Grishas. And the new fold that you create will make sure no one will ever think of attacking your people again.

And now you were standing in front of the mirror in the Little Palace. Your people bravely dismantled what was left of the Grand Palace and worked to rebuild the house of Grishas and expand it.

You were entering a new era. And the flags with the eclipse of the sun that now fluttered on the masts of the palace reminded you of that, as did your black and gold dresses, keftas, and the crown that had recently become an extra burden on your head. Just like two rings on your finger.

"I knew you would look stunning in the crown, moya Sol Koroleva." he whispers, making you shiver at his sudden presence. He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against his chest. Shadows circle lazily around you as his dark eyes catch yours in the mirror.

"You could at least pretend you didn't plan this from the beginning."

"I didn't plan it. I didn't want to be king. But when the dynasty kept taking advantage of us, I had no other choice. I had to start planning to take over the throne. Taking on the burden of power to make sure that the Grishas are finally treated as they should be. And then you appeared. My sunshine, my ray of hope, my little saint."

"A candidate for your queen and a means to a desired goal." you finish bitterly, resting your head on his shoulder to rest for a moment from the irritating weight of the crown. Looking in the mirror, you reluctantly admit that he looks handsome, dressing all like a king.

"Don't be so mean, milaya. You know very well that you shattered any evil plans I had for you when those lips of yours enchanted me. You made me feel like I could control it all for the first time in hundreds of years. That my plans will finally come true. We've come a long way, my Y/N, but we both know this is where we were meant to be. Next to each other. Equals. Together at the helm of Ravka. We are the only ones who will ever wield such power and who can stand next to each other forever."

You sigh. He is right. He is all you have. And you both know that you won't let go of each other anytime soon. You hated solitude. You knew yourselves so well that even for a second, consider leaving the only person who could ever stick so long with you. The ones who understood and were willing to share the burden the world put on the arms of the two of you.

So you turn in his arms, place your hand gently on his cheek, and after caressing his skin with your thumb, pull him in for a kiss.

He pulls you closer to him; you both need the other's touch and tenderness, the reassurance that after so many wars, fights, and betrays, you are finally together and that you will rely on each other to build the greatness of Ravka, leading your Grishas into the years of glory.

Not just as king and queen, tsar and tsaritsa. But also husband and wife. Partners. Equalls. Summoner of the sun and shadows united for the good of all your people.

"I love you, moi sol ye tselai. My Y/N." he whispers into the skin of your neck, placing kisses, especially where was the necklace he gave you, which you didn't dare to take off for so many years, afraid that the last connection and the memento you had left of him would disappear as soon as you lost it from your sight.

But behind these great goals was one common need, to which you agreed only for yourself. The need to love and be loved. The need to have a shelter that will last through the eternity that awaits both of you. And you finally had to admit that despite the darkness in your life and the problems and disasters mostly caused by your new husband, you couldn't imagine anyone else next to you.

"I love you, Aleksander. I've always have." you admit as his hands roam over you, caressing you. Shadows surround you, creating a protective bubble as you kiss passionately, forgetting about the rest of the world for a moment and you give in to your deepest desires.

The prospect of loneliness and everything that you went through in your life have effectively killed any sense of guilt or morality inside you. You could have allowed yourself that one selfish act. Especially when being with him in the darkness was such a tempting and blissful experience after years of loneliness.

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system-to-the-madness · 7 months

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Blessed (2/2) - Fushiguro Megumi x fem!Reader

SPOILERs for up to ch. 235 - canon complient until then Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x fem!Reader Genre: angst (Part 1), fluff (Part 2), hurt/comfort Word Count: 7 946 Warnings: death, injury, stitches, blood, pain Summary: Megumi woke up after having been saved by you, but will you recover, too?

Part One

The air smelled of wood and tatami. Megumi groaned slightly as he tried to stretch, feeling the soft blanket and the warm futon engulf him. His limbs felt stiff, like they had done when he had been bedridden for weeks with the flue when he had been thirteen. He grabbed his hands and intertwined the fingers, stretching them above his head, before eventually blinking his eyes open. The room he was in was lit up only by the orange light of a small lamp at the headend of his futon. Beyond the traditional room separations made of washi and wood the darkness of night lingered quietly. The tatami floor filled him with the comforting sense of familiarity. He was back at Jujutsu High, strangely enough the one place he had always felt safe at. Maybe because you had always been there.

A sudden noise at his feet drew his attention to it, and sitting up a little he was met with a sight that let his heart almost stop in his chest. Curled up at the end of his bed, hair dishevelled and one hand resting on Megumi’s ankle as if to make sure he wouldn’t get up unnoticed, lay Gojō.

His snow-white hair seemed to glimmer in the low light of the room. His eyes were closed, white lashes resting on his cheeks, even breaths moving his torso in a slow and steady rhythm. Megumi wondered when Gojō had lost so much weight. His cheeks seemed fallen in, exhaustion was written into his features, even while asleep.

The last time Megumi had seen his teacher and guardian had been before Halloween, before Gojō had been sealed away. And now it was… what day was it? How much time had passed since…

Megumi stopped, memories suddenly flooding back to him. Sukuna taking over his body and killing Tsumiki, the fight in Shinjuku on Christmas Eve against Gojō. And then? What had happened since then? How much time had passed since Christmas? Why was Gojō here, but you weren’t? Had something happened to you? Where were Yūji, Inumaki, Panda and Maki? Had something happened to them?

Slowly, not sure how strong his body was, he propped himself up on his elbow. Gojō looked peaceful, sleeping like this, and Megumi realised that in all the years he had been under the powerful sorcerer’s protection, he had never seen him sleep. Considering how exhausted he looked, Megumi was reluctant to wake him, but he needed answers. Badly. Especially concerning the question of where you were.

But before Megumi could reach out to shake Gojō awake, he stirred, blinking his eyes open. Over the years Megumi had gotten used to the stunning blue of Gojō’s eyes, but now, after all that had happened, after he had thought he had lost the only father figure he had ever had, he felt like all breath was knocked out of him, looking at Gojō with his dishevelled, white hair and those huge blue eyes.

Gojō seemed to take a moment to realise what he saw, as he slowly lifted his head, disbelieve written into his features.

“Megumi-“

No sound left Gojō’s lips, that formed the name of his protégé, and Megumi felt himself shrink under his teacher’s intense gaze, before the white haired man lurched forward and wrapped his arms around his student.

Megumi gasped in surprise as Gojō squeezed him in a hug, hesitantly returning it. Gojō was not the kind of man to hand out hugs just like that. Over the years, Megumi could probably count the times Gojō had hugged him, really hugged him, on one hand.

“I didn’t think you’d wake up,” Gojō breathed, pulling Megumi tighter against himself. “I thought I had lost you.”

Megumi nodded, trying to swallow down all the questions that were burning on his tongue and instead focus on what Gojō had said.

“You got locked away-,” he recalled. “I thought you’d be imprisoned forever.”

A beat of silence passed and all it took was an inhale by Gojō for Megumi to know the emotional reunion was over.

“Aww, did you miss me,” Gojō asked teasingly, pulling away, and causing Megumi to roll his eyes at him.

But then he stopped, looked at his teacher for a moment before he nodded.

“I did,” he admitted, knocking the wind out of Gojō’s sails, whose eyes widened in surprise at the honesty.

He swallowed thickly and nodded, pulling away far enough to sit up normally again.

“How are you feeling,” he asked instead of continuing his intended teasing, his eyes now scanning Megumi carefully.

“Pretty okay, I think,” Megumi answered, “A little stiff, maybe... wait- what happened to Sukuna?”

Gojō took a deep breath, making Megumi fear the worst for a moment. What was the worst? That Sukuna had possessed Yūji again? No, it would be worse if he were to possess you.

“Sukuna’s dead,” Gojō answered, and Megumi was glad that this time his usually annoying and always teasing teacher hadn’t made a big deal out of revealing the answer. “Yūji killed him through (y/n)’s technique.”

Megumi nodded, even though he was not sure what exactly Gojō had tried to say beyond that Sukuna was a problem of the past.

“So, he’s gone?”

“Dead, gone, never gonna possess or kill anybody again,” Gojō confirmed, a soft and relieved smile on his lips.

Megumi could feel the weight off the world fall off his shoulders, and he dropped back into his pillow, looking up at the wood panelled ceiling. Another question rose to his mind, and just as quickly the weight on his chest had disappeared, it increased again. What had happened to you? He was not sure he’d be able to ever get up from this futon if the answer was anything other than that you were fine.

“(Y/n)-“

The silence that followed his single word question made his heart plummet to unknown depths, and he screwed his eyes shut, but the tears welled up regardless. Why had he gone through all of this, all of it, if he could not even protect those he loved? Not only had this war demanded Nobara’s life, but he would have to spend the rest of his days living with the knowledge that his own hands, guided by an ancient evil, had killed his sister. And now the girl he loved, the girl he had thought was the one, the girl he had scolded himself over because you were basically still kids, how could he know you were the one, the girl he had secretly imagined he would marry one day… now you were gone, too?

Had it been summer, the silence would not have been as loud. Cicadas would have sung, and frogs would have quacked in the ponds outside. But in winter the school ground were quiet.

Gojō’s voice broke interrupted the quiet.

“She’s- well, her hear is beating, but she’s unconscious.”

Megumi’s eyes flew open again.

“What happened. Didn’t you say she helped Yūji kill Sukuna?”

Gojō deflated, shuffled his long legs around to sit more comfortably before he continued.

“We don’t know what exactly happened. One moment she allowed Yūji to reach through her to finish of Sukuna, the next she collapsed. Yūji and I are both certain we felt a… a wave of power at the moment of Sukuna’s death, so our best guess is that something happened on a level of their souls the moment Sukuna perished. He released so much energy that it would have torn all of us apart and she used her soul to protect us, you, me and Yuuij. Her soul couldn’t process all of it at once, but she tried absorbing it anyway…”

Gojō’s voice died down at the expression on Megumi’s face. Megumi looked exactly how Gojō imagined he had to feel. Grief, pain, self-reproach, hatred towards Sukuna, despair- all was written in his eyes, as he exhaled and let his head rest heavily into his pillow. Gojō almost expected him to send him away, to demand privacy, but the request did not come.

“Where is she now,” Megumi asked, closing his eyes in an attempt to shut the world with its cruelty out of his mind.

“She was in the hospital wing, but Shoko suggested she should better be in her own room. There isn’t really much she can do at the moment; anyone can do at the moment. If her soul wasn’t destroyed completely, she might recover in time, but there’s no way of knowing if it will work. A normal sorcerer would have died immediately, the only reason she’s still alive is her cursed technique. If she can manage to patch her soul back up-“

“Please-” Megumi’s voice was strained as he interrupted his teacher. “Please stop talking.”

Gojō immediately shut his mouth, his eyes flickering over the boy’s features.

“Do you want to be alone?”

Megumi hesitated for a moment, before he shook his head, keeping his eyes still closed. “No,” he answered truthfully. “I’m scared of where my mind will go when I’m alone.”

“Do you want me to talk to you?”

This time Megumi nodded. “Just not about her,” he asked, and Gojō complied happily.

He told Megumi about how he had been released from the prison realm, about the fight between him and Sukuna. He tried to make it sound funny, but he felt the pain radiate of Megumi, so he went on about his friends. Gojō told Megumi about Yūji, who had spent the whole first day glued to Megumi’s bedside, until Shoko had sent him to bed. It had only been less than 36 hours since the battle had ended. And Gojō told him about Inumaki and Panda, who had kept wake with Gojō since then. He told him about Maki, who had tried reading to them all, and then he told him about anything and everything that came to his mind, about all the things Gojō was looking forward to doing and eating again, now, that the threat of Sukuna was over. And he kept talking long after Megumi had fallen asleep again.

When Megumi woke for a second time, Gojō had resumed his position at Megumi’s foot end, curled into a tight ball, but this time with his back to Megumi. There was no clock around, but Megumi had the distinct feeling, dawn was closing in. Nightmares had plagued his sleep, and he was overcome with the sudden urge, like every time he had a nightmare, to seek the comfort of your presence.

How many times had he gotten up at night and walked over to your room just to stand in front of your closed door for half an hour, not having the courage to knock? How fast had his heart beaten when you had eventually caught him one time, and made him swear he would knock in the future? How many times since then had he rapped his knuckles against the thin wood of your dorm door, only to be called in by your sleepy voice and how many times had you beckoned him into bed beside you where he had spent the rest of the night sleeping peacefully?

Throwing another glance at Gojō, Megumi carefully peeled back his blanket, and rolled off the futon. He was dressed in a pair of loose grey sweatpants and an oversized, dark blue sweatshirt. With naked feet, he tapped over to the door, taking a last look at his fast asleep mentor and slipped out of the sliding door. The air in the corridor was cool and smelled of snow. Even though it had been months since he had last walked around the school and there was no light source to guide him, he easily found his way towards your room in the dark building. Halting in his steps, he found himself once again in front of your door, hesitating to knock or even enter. How many hours had he stood like this, shifting his weight from the left to the right and back? Bouncing on his heels, walking a few steps back towards his room, only to turn around and stare at your door again? But this time you would not randomly return from a midnight-snack trip to the kitchen and scold him for hesitating in asking for help. No, you were unconscious, laying in your bed on the other side of the door that separated him from you, and there was no one who knew if you would ever wake up again.

Even though he knew there would be no answer, he lifted his hand to the thin, wooden door and knocked. Silence followed, silence he had expected and still hoped would be interrupted by your voice. He pressed down the handle nonetheless, letting himself into your room, and closed the door behind his back.

Your room was warmer than the corridor, but smelled fresh, as if someone had aired it out just a few minutes ago. Through the glass of the window beside your bed, he could see that outside the sky began growing slightly brighter. White dust – no, snow – covered the small garden in front of your window and the yard beyond. It seemed to have snowed a little since the battle in Shinjuku, and Megumi desperately tried not to think about how today a year ago, on the 26th, you had dragged him around Tokyo to go looking at all the Christmas decorations together. Back then, too, snowflakes had fallen from stormy dark clouds, and had caught in your hat and scarf, had splayed over the dark fabric of your coat like stars in the night sky as you had tucked on Megumi’s sleeve to get him to follow you to the next attraction. You had known each other for just two weeks back then, but Megumi’s mind still had played with the idea what it would be like if this trip had been a date, had even toyed with the idea of asking if this was a date. Now, when his eyes flickered over to the sleeping form in your bed, his heart reacted so differently than it had last year to the touch of your gloved hand on his. Instead of excitedly skipping a beat, it felt like it sunk into the ground.

Your hair was spread over the pillow, the blanket neatly pulled up to the middle of your chest, with your hands resting on it at your sides. You were wearing a long-armed sweatshirt, one that Megumi had gifted to you for Christmas last year. On the first glance it looked like a plain sweatshirt, but on the lower hem and on the arms, small, stitched-on flowers ranked around the seams, reaching a few centimetres up into the fabric. Megumi had seen the sweatshirt on a trip to Shibuya the day before Christmas Eve, and it had made him think of you, so he had bought it spontaneously, even though he had not planned on getting anything for you. You had smiled so brightly and admired the details when you had unwrapped it, that Megumi completely forgot how embarrassed he had been about it at first. The embarrassment returned tenfold though, when you ended up wearing the sweatshirt to the movie nights with all the other students, telling them how Megumi had gifted it to you. And now someone had dressed you in it, as you lay in bed lifelessly, the only sign that you were not dead being the shallow movement of your chest with each breath you took.

Carefully Megumi stepped further into the room. Usually when he had come to your room at such late hour, you had sleepily waved him over to join you in bed. You had always attempted to pull your blanket over him as well, but he had refused. It seemed inappropriate to join you under your blanket when he could not even confess his feelings for you, and he was certain, feeling you sleeping this close beside him would drive him mad. The temptation of wrapping you in his arms, tangling his long legs with your shorter ones, burring his nose against your hair, and inhaling your familiar and calming scent would have been too big. So instead he had always preferred the protective barrier of the blanket between your bodies. Now he wished for nothing more than you to attempt to tuck him in next to you, to feel your arms wrap around him securely and hold yourself close to him.

Feeling like it was not appropriate to join you in bed as he had done so many nights before, he instead grabbed the chair from your desk, and pulled it over next to your bed, sitting down in the dark. He didn’t dare turning on the lights, the little bit of morning grey that fell through the window illuminating enough of your features for him to know that the state you were in was worse than he had seen in his dream. Your cheeks were hollowed out from when you had poured all your energy into healing Megumi through Sukuna. There were cuts and not yet healed bruises all over your face and doubtlessly other parts of your body too. Megumi wondered where those had originated, but the thought that they were a result of Sukuna’s death were not too farfetched. Your skin had a grey hue to it, sickly and dead, and your hair was matt and void of any of the vibrancy Megumi knew. It looked like at one point it had been drenched in sweat but had dried since, single strands of hair sticking together.

Megumi’s eyes wandered to your hand laying on the blanket next to you. Small cuts and lacerations littered your beautiful skin, and even though it had only been less than two days, they already seemed to have started healing. He wondered if you’d be in pain if he were to take your hand in his. If so, would the pain be enough to wake you up? Was it even a good idea to wake you up? Wasn’t it better to wait until you woke up by yourself, when your soul was completely restored, assuming Gojō’s theory was correct? Megumi bit down on his own teeth, and quickly pushed his hands underneath his thighs, sitting on them to resist the urge to take your hand in his.

Beyond the window, in the grey light of the slowly approaching morning, sparrows tweeted in the yard, already up and making a fuzz as they always did. Megumi tore his attention away from your unconscious form, and directed it into the fading night beyond the glass instead. In front of your window was a small garden, conifers cut into bizarre shapes, ferns and different kinds of moss covering the rocks that lined a tiny brook that lead past the students’ dorms into a bigger garden behind the house. Beyond the small strip of carefully curated nature, a plastered yard opened up. Many afternoons he had spent training with you or Maki there.

A smile threatened to tuck at his lips at the memory of both of you facing off, afternoon sun beating down on you, sweat running down the side of his face and catching in the collar of his uniform. Even though you were smaller than him, you were almost equally matched. Unlike in his sparing sessions with Yūji, where Megumi almost always won, the chance to come out on top in a match with you were pretty much 50/50.

Well, not entirely. There was a third option, in which both of you were really equally matched, going on for sometimes hours without neither of you resigning or getting defeated. Those were his favourite sparing sessions with you. When in the end you both would all but collapse on the cobble stones, breathing heavily, and staring at each other for a moment before breaking out in tired laughter and laying on your backs on the hard ground, staring up at the sky with its clouds changing colour from white to yellow and orange to deep red and pink, before they turned blue in the sunset.

Oh, how much Megumi would give to get these times back. Sure, it had not always been easy, it had not always been fun. But you had been there with him, safe and uninjured, and Megumi had bathed in the illusion of having at least a little bit control over his life: when to study, when to eat and sleep, when to train. When to seek you out to hear your beautiful laughter.

Megumi turned back to you. Somehow you looked cold, he thought. As if the air in the room was too cool, giving you a chill.

Quickly he got up and fetched the woolly blanket from your wardrobe, which you had bought so Megumi could have a blanket too, when he was staying over in your room more than twice a week most times, since he always had refused to join you under yours. Working as quietly as possible, Megumi unfolded the blanket and threw it over your sleeping form before he settled down on the chair next to you again.

You still looked cold, but at least now your arms were covered as well, and there was an additional layer keeping you warmer. Megumi looked over your body, noticing that there was still the tip of your pinkie finger poking out from underneath the blanket. The same thoughts as before shot through his mind. Would you be in pain if he took your hand? Would you wake up? But this time he did not have the strength to deny himself the feeling of your hand in his, and very slowly, very carefully, he pulled the blanket away from your hand, pushing his own underneath your fingers. They were cold, as they rested in his palm, and quickly he brought his other hand down over it, covering it in hopes of offering a little warmth.

His fingers ghosted over the healing cuts and bruises on the delicate skin of the back of your hand. He wished he could do something to make them heal faster, something to warm your fingers up quicker, something to help you heal and wake up with the memories of what had happened no stronger than the memories of a distant nightmare.

He exhaled shakily. How long could he stay here with you? His heart screamed As long as it takes her to wake up!, but his head was more rational than that. He’d need to eat soon. Or use the bathroom. He needed to wash up and dress into something fresh, something he had not slept in. And if you stayed unconscious for longer, he’d need to get back to training, to studying. Sure, Sukuna was defeated, but there were still curses out there that needed to be dealt with.

Then there was the matter of the Zenin clan, the Zenin clan, which’s head he now was. By the gods, he really didn’t want that position, but he held it now, and even with how Maki had decimated the ranks, and the decision of the other clans to cast the Zenin clan out of the Big Three, there was still a lot of responsibility to bear, a lot of politics to learn. At least he did not have to worry so much about the Gojō clan, with Gojō Satoru, his guardian, being the head of it. But then again, he already dreaded the meetings. There was no way Gojō would behave maturely during those, was there?

What came after? After studying and training and fighting curses and handling clan politics? His fingers tightened around yours, not squeezing, but just enough for him to feel your hand rest heavily in his. After all that, he’d come back here, hold your hand, pray for you to wake up. He didn’t really believe in the gods, but he’d also daily go to a shrine, and make an offering to them, asking them to bring you back to him.

Megumi slumped deeper into the chain. He felt sleep already tuck at his eyelids again, his thoughts growing fuzzy, dizziness taking over his vision, even when he tried to fight it. It made sense, he guessed, that he was still easily exhausted after everything that had happened. And he had a feeling Sukuna had not really cared to take good care of Megumi’s body while he had possessed him, so that he was weakened from months of physical neglect. Still he tried to refuse his body the need for rest, and instead turned to watch your face once more. The sky outside had brightened enough to give him a clearer image of what state you were in, and Megumi’s heart tucked painfully as he was able to make out the cuts across your face more clearly now. A deeper one, that had been stitched up, ran from the corner of your mouth to the side of your nose, another one right underneath your left eye and countless shallow ones were littered all over you face.

Megumi blinked slowly, exhaling shakily. He wished he could help you somehow, could do more than stare at you and hold your cold hand. He wove the fingers of his left hand through your right, continuing to brush over the tiny cuts on the back of your hand with the other one.

Was it just a figment of his imagination, wishful thinking, or had your hand become a bit warmer between his, your skin regained a little bit of its colour? No, he told himself, he was just exhausted, beginning to confuse reality with what he wanted to see. Looking back at your face, he inhaled with a shudder before he closed his eyes. He needed to sleep. He was of little help as it was, but completely exhausted he’d be even less useful. If you stayed asleep for a longer time, he wanted to be in shape and back in the game before you woke up. Maybe even have figured out all the clan business by then. And if you woke sooner, which he hoped for, he at least wouldn’t look quite as battered as he felt at the moment if he napped a little now.

His mind began drifting off eventually, the dizziness of exhaustion pulling him under, back into memories of spring afternoons sparing with you under the fall of Sakura petals. He wished he could summon those memories at will anytime he wanted, the feeling of the soft spring breeze on his skin, the touch of petals brushing over his face, the sound of your breathless laughter, the strain in his muscles and the shock in his bones whenever your staff hit his with unbroken ferocity. He was on the strange border between waking and sleeping, just wondering if he could manipulate the memory enough to stir his time with you away from the sparing exercise and instead convince dream-you to take a break sitting on the stairs, when suddenly there was something moving against his hand.

Half asleep, Megumi tried shooing the sensation away, wanting to stay in the beautiful memory of this afternoon in spring he had spent with you, but the motion in his hand returned and he jolted out of the dream.

The third time around, Megumi was certain that he was not just imagining it: Your fingers were weakly flexing against his, and before he had time to sit up or even direct his attention to your face, your raspy voice broke the silence that otherwise was only interrupted by the chirping of the birds outside in the snow.

“Megumi?”

It felt like Megumi’s whole world began collapsing in on itself, his heart first stopping and then beating with twice the speed at the sound of your familiar voice whispering his name.

“Megumi, is that you?”

Along with your question you tucked at his hand, and he finally looked up at your face.

Your eyes were still heavy, but open and fixed on him, flitting over his features as if you were searching for any indication that the boy in front of you was someone else, someone who just looked like him.

Megumi wanted to answer, but his throat closed up painfully. So he just nodded, grabbed your hand tighter into his, and nodded. At the gesture a smile began tucking at your lips, a sad smile that he desperately wanted to turn into a happy one, and panic began gripping his heart, when he suddenly noticed tears springing into your eyes. Quickly he shifted from the chair to sit beside you on the mattress of your bed, the softness of it familiar under him, your body pressing heavily against him through the blankets.

“It’s really you,” you answered your own question, a tear running down you’re the side of your face and into your hairline. Megumi wanted to brush it away, but he still held your hand with both of his and refused to let go. Instead, he just held your hand tighter, bringing it up to his chest. He was not sure if it was a gesture to comfort you by letting you feel his heartbeat, or a gesture to comfort himself.

Leaning a little closer to you he finally managed to press out a few words, his voice raspy and thick with unshed tears of relief. “’s me.”

You moved, pulling your other hand from underneath the blanket, and reached up towards Megumi’s face. Leaning in further, he met it halfway, letting you brush your fingers over his face. Cold fingertips traced the skin along his chin, over his forehead and over the bridge of his nose. It was only when your featherlight touch ran along the thin skin under his eyes that Megumi understood that you were tracing the parts of his skin where Sukuna’s marks had once been. A shiver went through him at the thought, suddenly uncomfortably aware of how much his body had been violated by the ancient sorcerer.

“He’s gone,” Megumi whispered into the narrow space between you, scared that if he spoke any louder, you might draw your hand away. He wanted to avoid that desperately. After all, your fingers left a sweet, tingling sensation in their wake.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you replied, drawing back from the subtle touch, and instead cupping the side of Megumi’s face. Instinctively he nuzzled into your palm, not minding that your cold fingers set the little hairs on his neck standing up.

“I was scared you wouldn’t wake up,” Megumi voiced his own confession.

Now that he was so close to you, close enough to smell the faint fragrance of the laundry detergent you used, and the dullness of the scent that only engulfed you when you were sleepy, he could no longer hold the thoughts at bay that had scratched at the surface to his consciousness since his conversation with Gojō. He had leant in close enough to feel your warm breath ghost over his cheek, and all of a sudden he was not sure why he had ever been scared of being anything but honest with you. Honest about his feelings for you, honest about how scared he was at the prospect of you getting hurt, or even worse, dying.

“Gojō said, you took the blow of Sukuna’s soul, when he died,” Megumi pressed out, his voice hoarse and scratching in his throat. “That you shielded our souls with yours. To protect us…”

You nodded at his words, your eyes carefully watching the emotions on Megumi’s face, as he furrowed his brows slightly.

“You could have died,” he accused. “Your soul could have gotten blown to bits and you could have died-“ Megumi was not sure if he was sad, angry or despaired at the thought. “Why did you do that, put yourself on the line like that?”

“What would have been the alternative, hm? Let Sukuna blow all of us up? Sure, my chances certainly would have been better if I hadn’t tried to absorb the blast, but then you’d be dead now. Yūji and Gojō-sensei too.”

Your breathing had gotten heavy over the few sentences you had spoken, as if it took great physical effort to talk. Worriedly Megumi shook his head at you.

“But did you think for one moment about how I’d feel if something had happened to you?”

You laughed, but it was one of the humourless laughs you paid Megumi whenever he had missed the point in something you had told him.

“Did you think for one moment how I felt? Watching you being possessed by Sukuna?” You took a deep breath, trying to counteract the strain the conversation put on you, and had Megumi not been as desperate to hear your voice as he was, he would have asked you to continue the conversation another time. “How I felt watching him use your body to fight against the strongest sorcerer of our time, letting Gojō blow you to bits?”

Your fingers tightened around his left hand, the faint memory of searing pain tucking in his mind somewhere.

“And just for the record, I did think about how you might feel. And I came to the conclusion that I’d be lucky if you’d feel anything close to the despair I felt, watching you go through all that.”

Megumi stared at you, your argument only half registering in his mind, as his eyes stayed fixed on your chapped lips moving around the words you spoke.

“You’re an idiot Fushiguro Megumi,” you continued, slightly out of breath, and pulling your hand away from his face to softly flick his forehead, “if you think I’d risk your life if I might as well safe it.”

The flick against his forehead pulled Megumi back into the moment, your cold fingers smoothing over the spot where your nail had gently snapped against his skin, and then cupping his face again.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” Megumi mumbled, his eyes wandering to your lips before he hung his head.

He was tired, physically and emotionally. It felt like his body had been drained of all its energy over the past months, and now even the shortest conversations tired him out immediately. And he was sick of fearing getting rejected by you. He finally wanted to tell you how he felt, wanted you to know that in him you would always have someone who would look out for you, even if you turned him down. But was now really the right moment to spring this on you? Hardly.

“Me neither, Megumi,” you replied, “me neither.”

He felt you gently tuck at his chin, making him look up at you again. You were carefully observing his face, the way your eyes skipped to his lips again and again not escaping his notice, while he watched their flickering in a mixture of hope and anticipation as well as amusement. He wasn’t sure for how long you sat and simply observed each other, but when the first beams of winter sunlight began blinding him, he finally gave into the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since you had reached up to cup his face.

“May I kiss you?”

The question was but a breath in the little space between your faces, and he could feel your breath hitch once you had processed the meaning of his words.

For a terrible second Megumi thought you would deny him, would turn him down with the way your eyes widened and stared at him in surprise. But then they softened, and you nodded.

“Please,” you whispered back, your breath fanning over his skin like a gentle caress.

Megumi watched your face for a moment longer, wanting to see if you really meant your answer or if you had just agreed in order to please him. But the expectant nervousness, the anticipation and slight giddiness written into your features was proof enough for Megumi to slowly lean down to where you were still resting on the pillow. His eyes fluttered closed as his lips were but a hair width away from yours, hesitating to close the last bit of distance. His heart was doing summersaults in his chest, your hand he was still holding clutched to his chest, the only lifeline he had to hold onto to stay in control of the spinning in his head. For a second he waited, let the tension between your lips and his sizzle and burn him, felt the heat your skin radiated, the shaky up and down of your chest as you patiently anticipated him kissing you.

And when it all got too much, when his senses got so overwhelmed with your presence, when his ears were ringing with his own heartbeat, he eventually gave in, closing the last bit of distance and pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

Neither you nor Megumi had much, if any, experience with kissing, which an outsider would have been painfully aware to, watching the way Megumi was leaning over you, almost like frozen as his brain tried to process the sensation of your soft, sweet lips against his. But when he lifted one of his hands away from yours, and cupped your face instead, pushing his fingertips past your hairline, pulling you closer to him, the tension seemed to fall away, and he melted into the touch. Carefully he moved his lips against yours, his heart stuttering at the way your hand at his chest closed more tightly around his fingers, while the other moved from the side of his face to his neck, beckoning him closer and closer. His senses narrowed in on you, his world consisting of nothing but the sound of your hitching breath, the taste of your lips, the smell of your skin, the warmth of your body.

Megumi had often imagined what it might be like to kiss you, but never in his life had he imagined that your kisses might be so sweet, so soft and warm and gentle. The way our lips moved against his was heaven, and Megumi found himself wishing he could stay in that moment forever. Thin morning sunlight brushed over the two of you, warming his skin beyond the blush that hard started to burn on his cheeks, and his heart felt like it was beating in rhythm with yours as a soft gasp slipped over your lips when he ran his tongue experimentally against it.

That little sound was what made Megumi decide that he had to pull away from the kiss, lest his heart might give out, and with a shaky exhale he turned his head just enough to break away. Only then he noticed how out of breath he was, how shaky his hand on the side of your face had become. He rested his forehead against yours, playfully brushing his nose against yours, eliciting a small giggle, that made his heart swell.

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, not caring anymore about whether it was a good or a bad time to talk about matters this serious. From where he was standing – or rather sitting – the two of you had barely escaped death, had won a battle against the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer of all time, and now had kissed in a morning-sun flooded room while outside snow crystals glimmered in the light. When would he ever have the courage to tell the truth if not now? “I know it sounds stupid, like a cliché or something, but I think I’ve been in love with you since we first me. It feels like that day in Shinjuku, when Gojō sent me to pick you up… I knew who I was looking for, as if my heart knew something my head didn’t.”

He expected you to say something, but instead you stayed quiet, only breathing heavily from the kiss you had just shared, and Megumi almost wondered if you had fallen asleep again, when you suddenly tucked on his sweatshirt.

It took him a moment to understand that you were wordlessly asking him to lay down with you, so he hastily swung his legs onto the mattress, and when you tried pulling the blankets over him this time, he did not protest, but settled under the soft and warm fabric like he had secretly wanted to do since the first time you had invited him to stay the night. Next to him you shifted, and before Megumi knew what you were doing, you had rested your head on his shoulder, just where his arm connected to his torso. Your ear was pressed to his body, as if you were listening to his heartbeat and you brought your arm over his chest in a comfortable hug.

Ignoring the way his heartrate was spiking, Megumi wrapped the arm you were resting in, around your back, pulling you closer to him, settling you more securely against his chest, and linked his ankle with yours. In response you shifted again, shifted more of your weight unto Megumi until you were both laying comfortably in each other’s arms. It felt like a puzzle made of two pieces with very difficult patterns had clicked into place, and it took everything in Megumi not to start crying at how happy it made him to have you rest by his side like this. Even though you had not answered to his confession.

As if you had read his mind, you suddenly spoke up.

“It wasn’t your heart,” you whispered against his shirt, tilting your head up a little to be able to look at him. “It wasn’t your heart that knew something your head didn’t. It was your soul. That’s how I found you that day. There was this call… not for the new student at Jujutsu High, but the call for me. As if your soul had been looking for me. And when I saw you, it felt like something had fallen into place and I knew that our lives had been meant to be intertwined even long before we first met.”

Megumi blinked into the by now sun flooded room.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I don’t know if something like soulmates exist, but if they do, you’re mine.” Megumi felt your lashes against his jaw as you leant up to press a kiss to his chin, and then the side of his neck, sending a warm shiver down his spine. You settled back against his chest, before you asked: “Is that stupid?”

Megumi shook his head. “No,” he answered, “No, it’s not.”

He remembered how he had just followed an instinct that day, trying to find you, how he had been magnetically pulled towards you. He was certain soulmates were nothing but a fairytale made up by media trying to sell love to young girls, but the idea that there was someone out there destined for him was addicting. Especially if this someone were you. Scrap that. If that someone weren’t you, he wouldn’t want them either way. With you in his arms, he had everything he had ever dreamt of.

Megumi knew, that when he woke up again, there would be work he had to do. He’d have to deal with Yūji’s doubtlessly overly enthusiastic response to see him alive and well, and with Panda and Inumaki too. Yuuta and Maki probably would have the decency to greet him without violating his personal space. And then there’d be Gojō, who, now that his biggest possible enemy was gone, would turn into an unsufferable source of stupid ideas and childish behaviours. Megumi was almost looking forward to seeing the man he considered perhaps not his father but at least an older brother, back to his old, happy self. Then he’d have to deal with the Zenin clan, and the other clans. Maybe Gojō could help with that. But in between, whenever he wasn’t busy, he would come and find you, and maybe you’d allow him to steal a kiss or two.

“Hey, Megumi?”

Your voice was already thick with sleep as you pulled him out of his thoughts again. He hummed in response, too tired to form a coherent answer.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

Seemed like the chances that you’d allow him to steal a kiss or two were pretty good then. He hummed again, this time with a smile on his face, burying his nose in your hair, and you pressed yourself closer to him in response.

It was around noon, when Gojō made his way towards your room. When he had woken up, Megumi was gone, and there was only one place really the raven-haired boy would run off to. Not bothering to knock, Gojō pushed the door to your room open, fully prepared to find his protégé slumped in a chair beside your bed, holding your cold hand or staring at your lifeless features.

Indeed, there was a chair pushed to your bedside, but Gojō had not been prepared to find Megumi laying in bed with you, your arm dragged over his middle, head resting on his chest. It was obvious that both of you were exhausted, but the colour had returned to your skin, nothing like the last time Gojō had seen you, all grey and void of life. Even your hair seemed to have regained some of its old glow. It seemed like you had woken up at some point and dragged Megumi into bed with you. The way the boy had his arm wrapped around your shoulder and his face buried in your hair, not to mention the way Gojō remembered him looking at you for the past year, indicated that Megumi had been only all too happy to join you.

For a while Gojō watched his two students quietly. A part of him already wanted to tease Megumi, and he knew eventually he could, but he would also make it abundantly clear to both of you, how happy he was for you. After all you had been through, you deserved happiness.

Steps in the corridor approaching the room made Gojō pull out of his thoughts, and a moment later Yūji pocked his head in. Just like Gojō he took in the scene, and his mouth formed a little o before a grin split his face.

“About time,” he whispered with a grin, and Gojō couldn’t help but join in with one of his own.

“Finally, huh,” he agreed before he turned towards the door. “Come on, let’s let them sleep a while longer.”

Yūji nodded and bounced back into the corridor, the happiness for his friends unmistakable in the way he skipped away. Gojō turned to look at Megumi and you one last time.

There was a lot of work to be done when you woke up, but for now you deserved to rest. You had almost been killed and Megumi had been possessed by the mightiest sorcerer there had ever been. At least until Gojō had been born, the white-haired man thought smugly to himself. Megumi had lost so much, his father and mother, his sister, and almost the girl he loved. It was time that the wish that resonated in his name finally came true, that Megumi finally could live a blessed life.

Gojō quietly closed the door behind him as he stepped into the hallway. If there was one thing Gojō was certain of, it was that Megumi already considered himself blessed for getting to hold you in his arms, for getting loved by you and being allowed to love you back.

Tags: @natriae

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year

Text

Garden of Secrets [1] - Thorns

A.N: Let’s start my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤ And thanks to @theskytraveler for helping me with the story! ❤

Summary: First impressions can go either way.

Warnings: Mentions of unhappy family life and fighting, Regency era society and social rules.

Word Count: 3400

Series Masterlist

You had never been to a circus before, but as much as you’d heard, you were quite certain it was similar to being introduced to the high society of London.

Extravagant clothes, announcements and performing tricks with a dash of danger.

If endless chatter and gossip and constant criticism fell under the category of danger, at least.

“Oh how I’m glad it’s over,” you murmured as the carriage slowed down, then came to a stop in front of your house. “It’s almost a blessing one only debuts once if you ask me.”

“My dearest, come on now,” your aunt said with a small smile. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Not for me, no,” you admitted. “If anything it was dull, but I saw multiple ladies with tears in their eyes.”

The door of the carriage opened and you stepped out of it, then looked behind you to see the coachman helping your aunt out of the carriage as well. She linked her arm with yours before you both started walking towards the house down the stone road.

“Tears in their eyes?” she repeated. “Surely not. Who?”

“One of the Featherington sisters.”

“The one who tripped and fell in front of the queen?” she asked. “You could hardly blame her.”

“And um…what’s the name of the girl with those huge earrings?”

“Miss Grant?”

You snapped your fingers, “Yes, her,” you said as you slowly climbed up the stairs with her and entered the house. “You’d think being named the diamond is a matter of life or death, with the way people are acting.”

“I’m glad you brought it up actually,” she said as she gave her coat to the maid by the door. “Because I’ve heard—”

“Oh the glorious warriors are back from the battlefield it seems!” your uncle’s voice boomed through the hallway and you couldn’t help but smile slightly at his theatrics. Your aunt shook her head fondly, and looked up at the mezzanine where your uncle was leaning to the stair rails. He gave you a big smile and you and your aunt went up the marble stairs to reach him.

“My Clover,” he hugged you. “Was it terrible?”

You heaved a dramatic sigh. “More than you could imagine, uncle.”

He hummed, that playful glimmer shining in his eyes. “Was there blood?”

Your aunt gasped. “Howard!”

“What? I know how vicious ladies can be when they want to have more suitors than others dear,” he kissed your aunt’s cheek and she patted his arm.

“There wasn’t any blood but some tears,” you pointed out. “Much to my disappointment. I’d love to see people claw each other’s eyes out.”

“Oh you two…” your aunt said and entered the drawing room with you two following her. You took out the multiple feathers from your hair and tossed them on the coffee table.

“Where’s Teddy?”

“With his tutor,” your uncle said. “So? Am I in the presence of the diamond of the season?”

You scoffed. “Thankfully no.”

“That’s what I was saying though!” your aunt said. “I’ve heard some ladies say they were convinced you would be the diamond when they saw you. And her majesty took her time inspecting you, did she not? Y/N, if only you smiled a little in the ballroom …”

You made a face and shook your head.

“No no,” you said. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Daphne Bridgerton being the diamond makes sense. She’s more beautiful and talented and educated and all that, she was basically born and raised to be the diamond. I learned how to play the piano about two years ago, and the only time I would do it willingly is if I ever wanted to torment somebody. Besides, I’m not—” you paused for a moment, then cleared your throat.

“I’m really not interested in being the diamond,” you managed to say. “More trouble than it’s worth.”

They exchanged glances and your uncle nodded.

“We’re happy if you’re happy, Clover.”

You offered him a tiny smile and stood up.

“Well I’ll change and go to the garden,” you said. “Send for me if you need anything?”

“Will do!”

You made your way upstairs to quickly change your gown and went downstairs again. Grabbing your gardening apron and tools from the small closet by the door, you stepped out of the house and made your way to the flower gardens. You put on the apron and put down the basket, then got on your knees to inspect a rose, frowning slightly before grabbing the pruning shears and getting to work.

You had always loved tending to gardens. Ever since you were a child, it had given you more joy than anything else, planting flowers and watching them grow, it was in fact the only happy memory you had of your childhood. Perhaps it was because it gave you an excuse to stay out of the house, but whatever the reason was, you had always stayed outside, spending hours in the tiny garden you could call your own back home.

More often than not, your older sister would join you. It wasn’t as if she was interested in gardening, at least not like you were, but perhaps she too sought for some peace and quiet, and it was impossible to find it in the house where your parents were. Almost every moment consisted of a fight, things thrown around, and sooner or later either you or her would get involved in it, and be subjected to the fury of your mother or your father, whoever was the closest.

So, staying outside was safer.

In a way, you and your sister had both found a way to stay safe later on in life. She had eloped three years ago with your help, and only a couple of months later your aunt and uncle had visited your parents’ house and had a long talk with your father about letting you and your little brother Teddy stay with them. They had no kids, and since it would mean that your mother and father would have two less mouths to feed, they had agreed quite fast.

Especially when your uncle had mentioned money.

You were quite certain you would always be in your uncle and aunt’s debt. Even though both of them claimed otherwise, it would have made more sense for them to take Teddy, since he was a boy and could be their heir and easily leave you behind in that hell, but they had done no such a thing and made sure to treat you and Teddy like their own.

They were the only parents Teddy could remember.

And you?

As far as you were concerned, your birth parents were dead.

“Y/N!” A gleeful scream made you turn your head and you dropped the shears before Teddy threw himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck, and thankfully you’d had enough practice at catching him mid-air in the last couple of years so even though your whole body tilted back for a moment, you quickly regained your balance.

“Hello there!” you said, a big smile warming your face as you hugged him back. “What did we talk about sudden movements and sharp objects little man?”

He pulled back, giving you a huge grin.

“Did you trip in front of the Queen?”

You let out a small laugh. “Who told you that? Uncle?”

“He said someone always trips,” he said, excitement laced in his tone. “Did you?”

You shook your head and dropped your voice as if giving him a secret.

“Not me but someone tripped and fell down.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Mm hm.”

“Then what happened?” he asked. “Is she in prison now?”

You bit back a smile. “No Teddy, no one goes to prison for that.”

“Even if it happened in front of the Queen?”

“Even then,” you said and wrapped your arms around him as he sat down to look at the flowers better.

“How was your day?”

“Boring,” he pouted. “Mr. Langdon says I must study harder.”

You hummed. “You know the rules,” you told him. “You want to be the smartest boy in Eton, do you not? When it’s time for you to go there—”

“I don’t want to go to Eton,” he cut you off and you pulled back to look at him better.

“Why not?”

“I’d miss you,” he mumbled, reaching you to touch the flowers and you felt your heart drop to your stomach at the idea of him going away all on his own. You heaved a sigh and opened your mouth to disagree, but then a tiny four leaf clover caught your sight, making you tilt your head.

This was also one of the reasons why your sister used to call you her lucky clover. Somehow, you managed to find those more than any other gardener.

You reached out to rip it, then held it up for Teddy to see, making him gasp.

“It has four leaves!”

“It does,” you said and put the tiny clover into the pocket on the lapel of his jacket. “See? It’ll bring you luck, in here or in Eton.”

He grinned at you and looked down at the clover.

“And,” you said, making him lift his head. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter where you are. Nothing could ever change that, alright?”

He paused for a moment and nodded fervently.

“Wonderful,” you said and reached inside the basket to pull out another pair of gloves. “Now, what do you say you help me with this?”

Of course everything that had happened in the Queen’s presence had found its way to Whistledown’s gossip columns, and the whole ton was buzzing with the expectation of the balls and social gatherings to come. You would be lying if you said you shared the sentiment, you’d much rather stay at home and deal with your garden, but this was the issue with having debuted, considering how your uncle and aunt were prominent members of the ton, you now had to join any and every social outing within the season, formal or not so formal.

Hence where you were now.

Lady Bridgerton had invited some of the new debutantes and their families for tea, probably to celebrate Daphne’s new status but to socialize as well.

In your opinion, this was nothing but an attempt to make horses become familiar with each other before putting them on the race tracks but your aunt was very excited about it, so of course you said you would go but now that you were here, you couldn’t wait to go back home. The Bridgerton house was beautiful, and Lady Bridgerton was quite nice but the rest of the guests?

Dear God, this was almost as much of a torment as listening to your own tune on the piano.

You made your way to the huge table to grab a glass of lemonade, ignoring the whispers coming from the circle of ladies on the other side of table but when one of them giggled, you turned your head to look at them. The girl stopped whispering with her friends and shot you a slight grin.

“So which one of them are you here for?”

You furrowed your brows and looked down at the lemonade in your hand.

“There are different types?”

“No, silly!” she said. “Which of the Bridgerton brothers are you here for?”

Your frown deepened. “What?”

“Oh none of them of course!” the other girl said. “Kitty, stop getting her hopes up.”

You tilted your head. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m Irene,” the girl introduced herself. “You’ve probably heard about me. Anyway, don’t get me wrong of course but I’ve heard some things about you, that you grew up quite poor until your uncle took you and your brother in so it’s better not to get your hopes up.”

You arched a brow, keeping your gaze on her.

“They say the Viscount won’t get married so if you’re hoping to get him, I’d forget about that plan right now.”

The Vis—

Ah.

Right, you had seen him talking to Daphne when you were leaving the court and quite frankly, you weren’t impressed.

Not that you thought you could be impressed by anyone’s looks.

“Not to worry, you can have him,” you said. “I’m not interested.”

Kitty and Irene exchanged glances and Irene let out a scoff.

“Oh you’re after Benedict Bridgerton?” she asked. “The second son? That’s hopeless as well. Don’t even make any plans for it, the competition is too high and some say his attention has already been claimed.”

“Devastating,” you said with a completely straight face but it seemed to have gone over her head.

“And if you want to get Colin—”

“Are you planning on listing their whole family tree?” you cut her off. “Did you memorize it in your free time?”

Irene’s jaw dropped and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not jesting by the way, everyone needs a past time activity, yours just happens to be a strange one.”

A small chuckle reached your ears and you turned your glances to the two other girls standing close to you, one with red hair and one brunette.

“Eloise,” Irene said. “And Penelope. How are you on this fine day?”

The brunette grinned.

“I’ve been better,” she said. “So have you, I suppose.”

Irene gritted her teeth and Kitty turned to you.

“Is it true you’re unable to smile?” she asked and you frowned.

“What?”

“Everyone says so,” she said. “That you have an illness of the sort. You can’t smile even if you want to.”

You stared at her for a moment, then took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yes,” you said. “It’s true.”

Irene pulled back slightly. “Really?”

“I don’t like to talk about it,” you said. “It was so unexpected. The tragedy struck when I was six years old, the doctors haven’t been able to find a cure or a cause since then. I don’t even remember how it feels to be able to smile to be honest with you.”

Kitty’s mouth opened agape in shock.

“And the worst part is,” you said. “The doctors fear it might be contagious.”

Kitty gasped and grabbed Irene’s arm, then pulled her to walk away from you to the other side of the room. You rolled your eyes and one of the girls let out a small chuckle.

“That was good,” she commented and the redhead repressed a laugh.

“Kitty will tell everyone you were not nice to her though, just so you know.”

“I’m not interested in being nice,” you muttered and the brunette smiled.

“I respect that,” she said. “I’m Eloise Bridgerton and this is Penelope Featherington.”

“Lovely to meet you,” you said after introducing yourself and out of the corner of your eye you saw Daphne approaching the table.

“Hello,” she smiled at you brightly before turning to Eloise. “Eloise, where is Benedict?”

“With Lottie I’m guessing. They both disappeared.”

“How shocking,” Daphne said. “Mama wants to see you.”

Eloise heaved a sigh and nodded at you, then she and Penelope walked away. Daphne turned to you.

“Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” you said. “And congratulations by the way, for being the diamond of the season.”

“Thank you!” she said, that bright smile lighting up her face again. “Some people say the Queen also considered you, I hope you do not resent me.”

You waved a hand in the air.

“Ah no I could never be the diamond, there’s nothing to resent,” you said. “Besides that’s just a rumor. The Queen was probably thinking about something else, I just happened to be there. You deserve that title much more than me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh it is,” you said. “I assure you.”

She tilted her head.

“We’re all going to take turns to play tunes on the piano in a moment,” she said. “Would you like to play as well?”

“Depends,” you deadpanned. “Do you want to make sure everyone leaves in a hurry? Because that’s my musical talent.”

Daphne stared at you, then covered her mouth to hide her laugh.

“It is a talent nonetheless.”

“One that would prove to be useful against unwanted guests if you have any in here.”

“You have no idea,” she whispered but before she could say anything else, you both heard her name being called. She heaved a sigh.

“I must go,” she said. “But thank you for the conversation.”

“Anytime,” you said and watched her leave, then downed your lemonade. You had to leave before somehow your aunt came up with the bright idea of you sitting in front of that piano, and in your humble opinion this was enough socializing to last you for a day. You made your way to your aunt and touched her arm.

“I’m going back home auntie.”

“Oh?” she asked. “Already?”

“I drank too much lemonade I think, my stomach feels strange.”

“Oh I can—”

“You don’t have to come with me, Paula can chaperone me back home,” you cut her off. “She was with the other maids in the garden the last I saw her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you said, “I will see you home?”

“Yes my dear,” she said and you kissed her cheek, then thanked Lady Bridgerton on your way out of the drawing room and stepped out to the hallway. You let out a relieved breath and stretched out, all your muscles sore from you being so tense since the moment you had arrived. You rubbed at your eyes, wondering whether your maid was still in the garden but before you could lower your hands a door opened and you crashed into a hard body with a gasp and the person grabbed you by the arm, making your head snapped up.

The man in front of you was tall, much taller than you. His waistcoat fit him perfectly, and you had a chance to glimpse at his muscular arms as he pulled you upright to help you regain your balance allowing you to see his face better. He was very handsome, there was no denying that, with bright blue eyes and black hair, along with a faint smile adorning his lips—

Alright.

Perhaps you could be impressed by someone’s looks then.

You paused only for a moment before you snapped out of your haze and your anger at yourself burned through you for even letting such a nonsense thought catch you off guard. He stared at you, his mouth slightly agape as if he was in the same haze as you were but you narrowed your eyes, glaring at him.

“Watch your step,” you nearly growled and a look of confusion crossed his handsome face, making him blink in silence a couple of times.

“…It’s—it’s my house?” he said slowly as if trying to see whether you were jesting. “I live here.”

You shrugged your shoulders, still glaring at him and he took a deep breath as if deciding to clear out any misunderstanding.

“I’m Benedict Bridgerton.”

Ah.

Well, that made sense. No wonder the competition was high—

From an objective stance, that was.

“Congratulations,” you deadpanned and a small giggle reached your ears, making Benedict turn to glare at the closed door behind him.

And that was probably the girl who had ‘claimed his attention’ as they put it. Not that you would be troubling yourself with it.

“Um— what about you?” he asked as he turned to you again. “What’s your name?”

You raised your brows. “Why?”

“To repeat, because you are in my house.”

“So are a lot of other ladies,” you said and pointed back with your thumb. “They are waiting for you in the drawing room.”

He grimaced as if the mere thought caused him pain. “Are they really?”

“My heartfelt sorrows for the hardships waiting for you, may you find a solace of some sort.”

“You don’t sound to be in sorrow.”

“This is how I sound in sorrow,” you pointed out drily and he seemed almost amused as he tilted his head.

“Will you really refuse to tell me your name?”

“That’s not important information,” you said and walked past him, the faint scent of his cologne mixing into your breath and you bit down on your lip, then started making your way downstairs.

“Why not?” he called out and you scoffed.

“I doubt we will ever talk to each other again Mr. Bridgerton,” you called back, your heels echoing on the marble of the foyer before you walked out of the house, not even looking back.

Chapter 2

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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pablitogavii · 1 year

Note

Could you write something about y/n being Pedri’s sister and she and Pablo are dating secretly but y/n ends up getting pregnant and they have to tell pedri and he gets really mad but in the end he has to accept it.

Btw I love your writing so much. You are such a talented writer.

Bebé

You and Pablo have been in a secret relationship for almost six months now hiding it from the world bust mostly from your big brother Pedri.

He had one rule for his teammates and it's that his little sister is off limits, but when Pablo met you he just couldn't help the immediate love he had for you.

You were similar to Pedri in that you were very calm and it's that quality that keeps Pablo grounded and happy. You were always able to bring him peace and over these past months he fell head over heels for you.

So when you learned that you were pregnant, after immediate shock, you both were really happy that something beautiful came from your love. Although not planned, you both wanted this baby and knew you would do everything in your power to be the best parents.

"Now we have to tell him.." you said after a few moments of silence laying in Pablo's arms while he stroked your still flat tummy thinking how lucky and happy he felt in this moment.

"I don't want you to worry about anything preciosa..I will talk to him...I love you and our little angel and I will do everything for the two of you..everything" he said and you felt safe nodding your head before looking up and placing your lips onto his.

A few days later..

"Get off him! Pedri please!" you wanted to intervene when Pedri punched Gavi making him fall to the ground grunting and spitting blood from his mouth.

"No! You're coming with us hermanita.." Aurora didn't let go off you pulling you away from the scene with your mom and Belen while your dad pulled the two boys away from one another.

"Cálmate! Stop acting like children! Beating him won't solve anything hijo! Your sister loves Pablo and it's her choice who she wants to be with..and as for the baby, it's early but every child is a blessing..." man tried to reason but Pedri was only seeing red from anger.

"That's not the point! He knew she was off limits! He swore to be my best friend and was screwing my sister on the side!" Pedri was screaming trying to pull from his father's grasp towards Pablo who stood there looking his friend straight in the eyes.

"I love her hermano.." Pablo said and Pedri got angrier trying to pull away from grasp again while cussing at him.

"Hijo de puta!" was all Pedri replied before storming out of the house.

"I'm going to beat both of their asses! You shouldn't stress out when you are carrying my beautiful sobrina..everything will be alright hermanita" Aurora pulled you towards herself kissing the top of your head.

"How do you know it's a girl Rora??" you said with a weak smile while holding your stomach in reassurance wanting to talk about anything but the fact that your boyfriend were probably fighting to death right now.

"Just trust your hermanita bonita" Aurora smiled kissing the top of your head seeing her brother walking towards the living room with your dad by his side and no Pedri in sight.

"Is everything alright? Why are you holding your stomach? Is our anjo alright princesa?? Should I take you to the hospital!?" Pablo was already on his knees in front of your placing his larger hand over yours on your stomach and you pulled him closer kissing the top of his head.

"I'm alright..where is he??" you said seeing Pablo's beautiful eyes fill with tears while he looked up at you letting the tears spill as you dried them with your hands.

A few weeks later...

Since the turbulent night at your house, your whole family accepted the new situation and did everything in their power to help you with everything.

Aurora was already buying baby clothes convinced it's a girl, Belen and your mom brought you cooked meals even though you could still cook for yourself and both your dad and Pablo's took upon themselves to help pablo build the baby nursery.

Pablo was happier than ever, spending all of his free time with you and always saying how excited for your little 'anjo' (since you don't know the gender yet) to wear his jersey when you bring them to the games. Your cheeks blushed at the idea and you were just as excited knowing that this will be the most loved child in the world.

Pedri on the other hand was the only one who remained distant..and as much as you try not to think about it, it hurts that your brother haven't talked to you since he found out about the pregnancy.

You moved to stay permanently with Pablo at his apartment close to Camp Nou and despite expecting Pedri to reach out when he cools off, he never did.

"How is he?" you said sadly while you and Pablo were cuddling to sleep happy that you can at least know your bother is healthy from Pablo who is forced to see him daily.

"He's good, princesa..don't worry" Pablo said holding your now prominent baby bump while pulling you closer so that your back was glued to his chest.

"I'm getting big..." you sigh and Pablo kissed the side of your neck lovingly nodding his head while caressing your belly.

"Good..you're beautiful mi preciosa" Pablo said and you smiled feeling the baby kick for the very first time which took both you and Pablo by surprised before both you cried happy tears that all of this was indeed real.

Pablo noticed that this whole thing with Pedri was affecting you especially with hormone disbalance during pregnancy. Despite trying to hide it, it was obvious that you missed your brother and that you were sad that he just pushed you away indefinitely.

Pablo even found you asleep on the couch one evening with one hand on your now grown bump and other holding old picture of you and Pedri as kids with dried tears on your cheeks.

He couldn't take seeing you like this especially when he wanted to bring you all the happiness there is the world because that's what you deserve. A week later he decided to try and talk to Pedri again.

"You should call her..just to let her known you're alright..she worries about you.." Pablo said to Pedri during one of the trainings but the moment he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, he got pushed back.

"Get the fuck away from me! The only reason I haven't beaten your ass is because of her and that precious bebé in her belly" Pedri said and Pablo nodded his head looking at him with hopeful eyes that he called the baby 'precious' making it sound like he wasn't unhappy about becoming an uncle.

"She's worrying too much and that's not good for the bebé. Just please let her know you are still her brother and transfer all that rage onto me..I can handle it..and I deserve it but she doesn't" Pablo said before Xavi called them to join the rest of the team for the training.

The day Pedri showed up at your front door, you found out that you were indeed carrying a babygirl. You went to the ultrasound with Pablo but asked a doctor not to tell you a gender only to return out of curiosity a day later and learn the truth.

"Hey! Sorry, I didn't expect anybody and I look like a mess..but come in!" you were mumbling in nervousness like you weren't only talking to your brother. He was looking at your very much grown belly and you were caressing it out of nervousness not knowing what to say.

"I grew bigger since last time you saw me.." you said and Pedri looked back to your face with a small smile on his face that made you relax.

"Just a little bit.." he joked lighting up the mood and you chuckled walking to the living room and sitting besides him on the couch.

"Um..listen, I'm sorry that I kept it a secret from you. I just didn't want to be a reason you hate Pablo, who by the way is miserable without his "Pepi" just like me. " you said feeling lighter that you finally let it come out of your mouth.

"Um..I'm sorry I didn't call earlier..I kept telling mom to take pictures of you so that I could see as your stomach grows" Pedri said and you smiled feeling your eyes fill with tears that your brother cared about you this whole time despite everything.

"That's why she turned into a paparazzi then.." you joke and you both laugh like in good old days. You felt kicks which occurred always around the same time, right before Pablo was going to arrive home and baby anticipated daddy's return.

"Kicking?" Pedri said and you smiled nodding your head asking if he wanted to feel and he was uncertain but when you took his hand and placed it onto your stomach a big smile was glued onto his face.

"Can I tell you something..and you will be the first one to know?" you said as he nodded his head waiting fro you to continue.

"It's a girl..I found out today.."you said and Pedri's eyes filled with tears while he pulled you in and kissed the top of your head while baby kicked like crazy almost like it was sensing you talked about her.

"And Pablo doesn't know?" Pedri said with raised eyebrows while you shake your head.

"Not yet.." and just like clockwork Pablo opened the front door freezing in place when he saw you and Pedri hugging in the living room. He was happy you were finally reunited with your brother but he didn't want to ruin the moment considering that his best friend hates him now and probably will forever.

"I'm sorry amor..I'll come back later" Pablo said turning around to leave but Pedri called him name taking him by surprise.

"Shouldn't you tell him??" Pedri said and Pablo's eyebrows furrowed feeling worried that something was not okay with your or the baby but the smile on your face made him relax a bit.

"You do it!" you said and Pedri walked to Pablo placing his hand on his shoulder which took Pablo completely by surprise but he waited patiently to hear whatever was going on right now.

"We are going to have a little Barça princesa in our family and at the camp soon!" Pedri said and Pablo was frozen in place not understanding the word coming out of his mouth in that moment.

"Wait..so..so..." Pablo stumbled on his words while you smiled wide at him nodding your head while Pedri ruffled his hair happily.

"You will have a daughter hermano! And I'm gonna gave the cutest little sobrina in the world!" Pedri said and Pablo's tears spilled down his cheeks while he rushed and raised you odd your feet like your wighted noticing before kissing your lips lovingly going onto his knees in front of your stomach.

"Hola mi anjo..it's your papi..tu eres mi princesa mas bonita del todo el mundo..y tu mamá es mi reina..papi te amo mucho princesita" he kissed your stomach while you ran your fingers through his messy curls kissing his forehead afterwards.

"Te amo mi vida!" he got to his feet kissing your lips before turning around to his best friend who pulled him into a hug like nothing has ever changed making you cry while watching them. Damn hormones!

"We are going to have a Barça Princesa!" Pablo said and Pedri nodded high fiving him and cheering while you chuckled at their childish celebration.

"I'm buying her my jersey in the little size!" Pedri said

"I got that idea first!" Pablo complained making you chuckle at both of them saying that she will probably end up wearing both anyways.

Three years later..

You went to the game with Mia (your daughter's name), Aurora, your uncle and aunt to support Barça's last match of the LaLiga excited to see the trophy celebration.

She was mirror image of Pablo with her messy curls and quite an explosive attitude but you wouldn't have it any other way. She is basically attached to her papi's side all the time so when she saw him run onto the pitch she kept saying 'papi papi!" which made everyone awe adorably including yourself.

"Si princesa, es tu papi" you say giving her some water since it was quite hot and you wanted to make sure she keeps hydrated. Then your brother ran onto the pitch and she stopped drinking pointing once again but this time saying "pepi pepi" making him wave at all of you with a bright smile.

Pedri and Aurora spoiled this girl rotten from presents, to continuous attention and "secret" ice creams dinners you pretend not to know anything about.

Pablo wanted to surprise Pedri, so he got Mia a new jersey to wear over her usual "papi" one with Pedri's name and number remembering that he wanted to see her in it while she was still in your belly.

After the game was over, she wanted your uncle to carry her while you stretched your back chit chatting with Aurora while walking to meet with Pablo and Pedri.

"Looks like you were right Rora..we got our Barça Princesa" you said smiling while all the players were circling around the little girl who was giggling at them shyly.

"Quién es la princesa de papi huh??" Pablo pinched Mia's cheek and she nodded pointing at herself while he giggled being joined by Pedri shortly after.

"Hola Princesita Mia! I like your jersey" Pedri said smiling when he saw mini jersey with his name on his niece and she looked around being intrigued by the amount of people surrounding her. He winked at Pablo who nodded his head smiling at Mia's cute face.

"Who is that Mia??" your uncle said pointing at Pedri and she smiled wide at his familiar face in the crowd.

"Pepi!" she cheered making both boys laugh at how adorable she was while she gave her uncle a high give making him wink at her adorably.

"And that??" he then pointed at Pablo smiling wide sharing that same smile that Pablo has.

"Papi!" she said high fiving him too as he was invited to speak as a man of the match but when he tried to leave she started crying repeating "Papi! Papi!"while reaching her arms out towards Pablo.

"I can take her" you say but Pablo reassures you that it is fine and that he will take her with him to the short interview while she giggled happy once she was in her dad's arms.

"Alright be good my trouble makers!" you say winking at them and Pablo leans down to kiss you letting Mia do the same before they left to do their business.

"Bienvenidos Gavi! Oh and who is this beautiful lady??" the man asked waving to Mia who smiled hiding her face quickly into her dad's neck.

"This is Mia..my daughter but she is a little shy now"Pablo said smiling and kissing the top of her head while she still his her face into his neck sucking on her thumb.

"She is Pedri's biggest fan isn't she??" man joked looking at her little jersey and Pablo nodded remembering the moment Pablo told him he will buy her a little jersey that day you all made up with each other..all of that seemed so far away.

"She loves her uncle so much because he let's her eat ice cream for dinner, isn't that right princesita??" Pablo said laughing a little before answering a few questions about the match.

The rest of the time you were taking some pictures on the pitch for memory while Mia was kicking the ball being the little energy bomb that she was.

"She is the best thing that happened to our family hermano..I'm sorry I ever doubted your love for my sister..." Pedri said staring at the little girl kicking the bal around while hugging Gavi's shoulders.

"It's all forgotten..I'm glad I didn't lose you as my best friend and brother Pedri" Pablo said and they hugged before Mia yelled "papi! pepi!" kicking the ball towards them as they started to play with her joined by other players as well.

"Be careful mi amor!" you yelled shortly joined by Pablo sitting besides you watching as everyone was around Mia happily entertaining the little girl.

"She's all ours amor..our little princesa" you said smiling while Pablo pulled your closer kissing your lips this time a bit more passionately (now that you were finally alone).

"I want another one.." Pablo whispered into your ear before kissing down your neck and you giggled feeling your heart swell and your mind immediately agree while you kissed him back passionately.

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #pedri barça #pedri/gavi #pedri angst #pedri smut #pedri gif #pedri x y/n

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 3 months

Text

I need a fic where Merlin doesn’t know he’s Emrys and doesn’t know about his destiny, he’s just a good person who sees someone constantly almost dying and saves him because he can’t just sit and do nothing.

Kilgharrah doesn’t exist. Plot holes aside, the bitchy basement gecko can go to hell.

Anyway.

This all takes place during The Beginning of The End episode.

Mordred doesn’t call Merlin Emrys, he just cries out for help (and for his dad). Merlin steps in, the rest of the episode is the same but Merlin is determined to help the druid boy he found. Without crusty dinosaur harping on, he gets to choose the right thing for his own morals and critical thinking. Gaius is unsurprisingly resistant, so Merlin is being extremely careful, then Arthur finds him in Morgana’s chambers while he’s healing Mordred.

Let’s go with Morgana already knows about Merlin’s magic and he’s been helping her too against Gaius’ advice.

Arthur feels betrayed and is upset because Merlin can’t seem to give him a straight answer about anything. It’s all still new to him, but he’s learning that Merlin is good even if he doesn’t answer any of Arthur’s questions about magic or why he doesn’t use spells or anything like that. He’s angry but he can’t punish Merlin and free Mordred without being hypocritical, so he mostly sulks.

In all the perceived lies, Arthur snaps and instead of punishing him, he doesn’t let Merlin leave his side until he tells the truth.

So when Arthur takes Mordred back to the Druids, Merlin goes with him. Iseldir greets them as “Emrys and The Once and Future King” They’re both confused, but obviously Arthur is the future king so Arthur asks who Iseldir thought Merlin was.

Iseldir reveals their destiny that Merlin is the god of magic. Merlin is silent and Arthur is so confused and hurt about why Merlin didn’t trust him.

Iseldir answers all of Arthur’s questions about destiny and the prophecy while Merlin doesn’t say a word. He takes it to mean Merlin is ashamed or something similar about the truth coming out, meanwhile Merlin is grappling with the fact that he supposedly isn’t human. After days of Arthur picking on him for “lying” and all the unintentionally cruel jibes, when Iseldir tries to say Merlin was blessed with his power and that it was something he should be grateful for.

Merlin breaks down in a Percy Jackson style “I’m not a god! There’s something wrong with me! I get that whatever I am isn’t supposed to happen, I know I’m a monster, believe me. I never even learned magic and every time I’ve tried to get rid of it, it’s almost killed me! So don’t tell me that this is a blessing, that this curse is something I should be happy about because it’s the reason I’ve spent every single day of my entire life terrified!” Then he stops for a second and the tears roll down his cheeks, “I’m sorry, but I’m not what you think I am. You need to find someone else to believe in.”

(Skip to the end for a happy ending, this is angsty. Warning for dark!Arthur and major character death)

Arthur thinks Merlin is lying and banishes him on the spot. Iseldir warns against it, but Merlin is just so tired so he doesn’t fight it. He’s left broken and believing he’s a monster, so be leaves to protect his friends.

Until a month or so later Arthur is on a hunt when he gets separated and lost, then injured by bandits. Merlin finds him, (he’s been sent off by the druids for failing this destiny he knew nothing about, in search of a solution but they’re not very forthcoming with information) and Merlin heals him. Then they get all the diamond of the day moments while Merlin is nursing Arthur back to health until he succumbs to infection.

Merlin gives his life for Arthur, knowing that he’ll be a good king. This leads Arthur to become really dark, he kills his father and takes over Camelot, welcoming magic but killing anyone with a different opinion. No one is safe, war breaks out and Camelot falls. When Arthur dies, young and during an uprising, he meets Merlin again in Avalon. Merlin doesn’t recognise Arthur with all he’s become, and Arthur is punished to watch all his people suffer with his old mind while watching Merlin continuously pushing him away because “he’s waiting for Arthur, he shouldn’t be alone when he gets here. He would’ve been a good king, he needs someone to take care of him now.” And it breaks Arthur’s heart to hear it every time.

That’s all I got so far, it could be that they’re both driven mad waiting, Arthur by watching his people and Merlin by waiting for a man he’s doomed to never recognise again. I’m not sure, I haven’t gotten that far.

Or for less angst, hurt/comfort where Arthur has to realise that Merlin is just as in the dark as he is, he really doesn’t know any of the questions Arthur had and he’s probably been looking for answers a lot longer. They work together to fix everything and while it’s difficult, Merlin still has issues with lying to protect his friends (intent/outcome issues) Arthur is too trusting still and they have to deal with Morgause and all the other threats but they overcome it together. Albion is united and they live happily ever after.

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cl-01-kestis · 8 months

Text

The Reef - Neteyam Sully x Female Na’vi!Reader | Soulmate AU

Summary: You’re a gifted tsakarem from the mountains of Pandora and travel to the reef islands to seek out your dead soulmate.

Warnings: slow burn, HEAVY on the angst, character death, Neytiri and Jake basically adopt you, hallucinations of the afterlife

(I’m so sorry for this hehehe)

The moment you felt it, you fell to your knees, devastated when you felt the light of your soulmate flicker out. Leading up to this moment, you felt his fear, his worry and his anger. He was fighting and lost the battle. Neteyam had died.

Neteyam was a name you listened to for 14 years, hearing him speak his name in your sleep or randomly hear a whisper in your mind during the day. It was the soulmate link, it was a bond that never broke even through death. But unfortunately for you, there would never be a day of relief from the pain you felt.

You were the youngest in your clan at the time of his death, the future Tsahik, with such a heavy burden to carry at 14 years old. You blamed yourself for not leaving to find him sooner, knowing you’d never get the chance to see his face or meet or touch him.

Your clan was horrified, many screamed and cried as they cradled you in their arms, especially your mother. For healing, you tried making yourself soothing ointments and medicine for your aching heart. But nothing worked. Your family all prayed in a circle as you stayed silent, eyes damp and purple from hours of sobbing.

As a destined Tsahik since birth, you put your entire faith in Eywa, taking life one step at a time so you didn’t ruin her plans for her you. But you couldn’t help but ask her why, when your soulmate died, why she took him from you. Why she took the one person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life before you returned to her.

You never got an answer, but that didn’t stop you from travelling around Pandora, from tribe to tribe, asking for the name Neteyam. Many were trusting towards you and offered help wherever it was needed, giving you directions to the next village and offering weapons and plants for medicine.

During your journey you discovered more about your gifts from Eywa and tried to be at peace with the nature and life surrounding you. Few wanted your blessings and came to you to receive word from Eywa. You were her messenger, but it wasn’t your place to tell them their future. You became almost a priestess, offering hope and rituals to those in need. But you couldn’t help yourself.

You were on the journey to find Neteyam’s grave for 2 years until you finally stumbled upon the Metkayina tribes territory. There was a certain spiritual atmosphere that knocked you off your rhythm as soon as you entered the reef people’s waters. Specifically under the water, where many ancestors were laid to rest.

Ronal, the chiefs wife, greeted you warily at the shore, her husband standing behind her. The Mother of the clan was cold to you at first, inquiring sharply about your reason for your arrival. You travelled by ikran, but you noticed she flew off to join other ikrans who weren’t from the reefs. At first you weren’t sure if you wanted to explain your situation to the entire village, who were all watching you intently, so you asked permission to speak to the chief privately.

Tonowari wasn’t as hostile as his wife, but he still kept a close guard as he led you to their tent. They noticed the significant beads and braids in your hair, relating to the culture of the mountain na’vi, they also seemed to visibly relaxed when they noticed your 4 fingers.

A discussion ensued, mentions of your spiritual journey and then the topic of your soulmate. The two were surprised, knowing this bond only came once every one hundred or so years, but they weren’t expecting you to start crying. You explained your soulmate was dead and you needed closure, hoping to find his grave and find out who he was and who his family was. They were both saddened by your confession, Ronal suddenly became much more maternal towards you and offered tea to calm you down, stroking your hair and sharing her wisdom through rituals and recitals. From Tsahik to Tsakarem. Tonowari asked his name, and you offered it willingly.

You noticed both of them freezing the moment you whispered his name, realising Ronal stopped uttering her incantations and leaned away from you. Tonowari cleared his throat, urgently telling his wife to collect a woman named Neytiri. You sat confused, the effects of the incantation and tea wearing off as you felt nerves begin to creep up your neck.

“Are you positive your soulmate is Neteyam?” Tonowari leaned forward, a frown taking over his tattooed face as he tried to process what you were saying.

“I am positive, it’s the name I’ve been hearing until I was 14” You whispered.

Tonorwari looked at you sadly, nodding his head and reverting his attention to the entrance of the tent as Ronal returned with a different looking na’vi woman with darker blue skin and shorter braids. She noticed you immediately, but kept her focus on the couple.

Neytiri was one of the most beautiful na’vi woman you’d ever set your eyes on, she was taller than most na’vi women, with the hands of a warrior and eyes that have seen many wars. You guessed she was related to your soulmate in a way.

“Neytiri, we’ve called you here in regards to this woman, a witch from the mountains, who believes your son is her soulmate” Tonowari didn’t sugarcoat as he spoke to the forest na’vi, noticing her expression distorted as she looked at you.

“Lo’ak?” She frowned, growing wary of you as she took a step back and pressed a palm on the ground.

“Neteyam” Ronal corrected gently, walking over to sit down beside you in case Neytiri lashed out of shock or anger at the mention of her deceased sons name. But instead she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands and tearing up immediately.

“Oh great mother” Neytiri whimpered, placing a hand on her chest. Her golden eyes gleamed over with sudden grief, fingers shaking slightly.

“What is your name?” The forest na’vi asked, voice trembling.

“(Y/N)” Your heartbeat was intense, vibrating through your body as you watched Neytiri begin to cry, a tear running down her cheek as she leaned forward and cupped your face so she could inspect you.

“He used to say that name in his sleep” Her lip quivered as she studied your appearance, tracing her hands along the jewellery hanging from your lobes and the swirling tattoos along your arms and legs. You were just like Neteyam imagined.

“Did you know him?” You grew emotional, eyes growing damp with tears as you leaned into her touch.

“My child, I am his mother” Neytiri choked, running her hands through your braids and treating you like her own immediately.

You sobbed, collapsing into her arms in relief as she accepted your embrace happily. She cried with you, causing Ronal and Tonowari to wipe their eyes a few times as they watched the soulmate bond take its toll on the both of you.

When Neteyam was alive, he spoke of you to Neytiri every single day of his teenage years. The moment he was aware of the soulmate bond, he was no longer confused by the voice singing in his head at night. He realised it was you, the voice of the one he was destined to be with. At first he was terrified of telling anyone, he knew a soulmate bond was a very rare occurrence and it just so happened to him. People would flock to ask him questions, and it wasn’t until he died that people realised he had a soulmate. Neytiri always knew, he would mumble a name in his sleep every night, even Jake would notice.

Now you were right here, the (Y/N) that would bless his sleep every night and keep him going everyday until the unfortunate event of his premature death. Neytiri wished you could’ve come sooner and experienced Neteyam, you were the most worthy person of his love and presence. But that light was taken from you so soon and so young. It made her cry for you.

Neytiri offered to stay with you all day, knowing Jake wouldn’t ask too much about it. Ronal and Tonowari trusted her enough to show you around and keep you safe until further notice.

She held onto your hand like your own mother, walking through the village and telling you stories of her son. She said he spoke of you everytime he had the chance, worshipping you before he even met you. You tried not to cry but you failed whenever his name was mentioned, ending up in the arms of the older na’vi woman.

Night dawned on the Metkayina reefs and you needed to find a place to sleep, but Neytiri insisted you meet Jake, Neteyam’s father. At first you weren’t sure, everything was happening at once. But Jake caught wind of your arrival and was determined to speak to you after Neytiri informed him of your connection to his eldest son.

He had a domineering presence, towering over you as soon as he stood up from his seat in their hut. Their other children were out with friends from the tribe, so none of them were aware of you except Jake and Neytiri.

Jake was hesitant to accept the truth of your soulmate being his son, he kept a hard expression to stop himself from tearing up when he studied your face, to your braids, to the markings on your body. He realised Neteyam would’ve been your age if he was still alive. But he eventually pulled you into his arms after a silent conversation through your eyes, realising you were just like Neteyam described.

Sometimes his son would open up to his father about the girl he saw and heard in his dreams. Her soft skin, striking tattoos and swirling markings. Your name and voice matched the description as well. You were his soulmate.

Neytiri and Jake accommodated you in their hut for a few days, allowing you to meet their other children, Neteyams younger siblings.

They were confused at first, yet you and their parents decided not to tell them who you were to their brother. To them, you were just seeking Uturu.

Weeks passed and Ronal spoke with you about the possibility of connecting with Neteyam through Eywa. She explained their burial ground to you, it was a beautiful glow of amber and yellow under the waters surface where many returned their energy to Eywa. Neteyam had been laid to rest there 2 years ago.

She explained it would’ve been a tricky situation regarding the connection to Neteyam, if you decided to take the route of meeting him through the spirit tree underneath the water. There was a chance you could die, either by drowning or deciding to die to be with him. But you immediately agreed, even if it meant losing your life. Either way, you could finally meet Neteyam.

Neytiri was the one who swam you out to the spirit tree, she explained the two of you must connect to the tree at the same time so you could be in her memories and not your own. You’d gone through weeks of breath training and swimming lessons, considering you didn’t know how to swim since you lived in the mountains all your life.

Neytiri held your hand as you both swam through the depths of the burial ground, the amber light aiding with navigation and your sense of direction. You were scared, admittedly, and at first you weren’t sure if you could go this long without breath. But you put your trust within Eywa and let her guide you through this experience.

You eventually reached the tree, grabbing onto one of its tendrils and watching Neytiri as she grabbed her queue. You quickly grabbed yours, looking at the kuru coming out of its hiding place and swirling through the water. You and Neytiri both counted down from 5 after she reassured you everything would be okay, holding onto your hand the whole time as the two of you connected your queues to the glowing tendrils of the tree.

Immediately, you were transported into a realm of peace, but not from the living world. Everything was quiet for a moment, until you heard the sound of rustling trees and calls from various wildlife. You opened your eyes, wincing at the sudden sunlight bursting through the branches, but you soon realised you were standing meters away from a tall na’vi boy with shoulder length braids. His back was turned to you as he crouched into a pond between a few thick trees, pulling out an arrow from a fish carcass.

You looked over to find Neytiri, hiding behind one of the trees as she watched the boy in the water. This was the moment you realised the boy, who just turned around to show his face, was Neteyam.

You fell to your knees as soon as he looked up to meet your eyes, a shaky breath of disbelief leaving your chapped lips.

Neteyam. You were finally seeing him for the first time.

You whispered his name like a prayer, suppressing the tears bubbling up in your chest. Neteyam cocked his head to the side and took a few steps towards you before he slowly crouched down to match your level. He was the same age as he was when he died, but you weren’t even sure how old he really was. Was he 16 like you? Maybe he was older, or younger?

“I don’t believe I’ve met you before” The sound of his voice broke you, a soft sob releasing itself through your lips as you wiped your eyes. His voice sounded just like it did in your dreams.

“It’s me, (Y/N)” You whimpered, noticing his posture stiffen as his eyes widened and his jaw slacked.

No words were spoken as he sat down cross legged in front of you, the fish now discarded by his side as his hands took your face. You closed your eyes, nuzzling into his touch as his thumb caught a stray tear.

“What took you so long to show up?” Neteyam chuckled, studying your face with his hands. You felt his fingers prod your jaw and nose, until they traced around your eyes and your generational markings.

“I’m so sorry, I really am” You weeped, holding onto his wrists as his hands returned to your cheeks. Neteyam shook his head, smiling as tears leaked down his blue face.

“Don’t be, I’m thankful you finally made it” Neteyams voice wavered, and soon he was crying with you. He leaned forward and wrapped you up in his arms, his touch was warm and welcoming. You settled against his chest immediately, wailing against his skin as he traced patterns onto your back. He pet your braids, kissing your head and rocking you back and forth as you unleashed all your grief and guilt.

“Ma (Y/N), why do you cry?” Neteyam asked gently, picking you up into his lap so he could he cradle you protectively. You didn’t answer at first, pressing your hands against his chest and feeling no heartbeat.

“I’m just happy to see you, Neteyam” You sniffled, leaning your head back and smiling to mask your internal pain. Neteyam grinned, wiping the tears from your eyes and kissing your forehead tenderly.

“You’re so much more beautiful than I imagined” He whispered, tracing the shape of your face with his knuckles as his eyes stared deeply into yours.

You traced his jaw, your fingers trembling as they pressed against his skin, memorising the feeling. Neteyam pressed his forehead against yours and smiled, closing his eyes as you kept touching his face and trying to cram in as much memory with him as you could.

“I see you, Neteyam” You breathed out, closing your eyes as well and settling your cries as you felt him kissing your palm.

“I see you, ma (Y/N)” He held you tighter, opening his eyes and smiling as he watched you lean your full weight against him, giving him your trust completely.

From a distance, Neytiri witnessed the entire act play out, trying to keep herself together but the tears kept coming until she was a complete mess. She knew this would never be reality, for either of you. Neteyam was a memory, this version of him was a memory. Although his spirit was fully present, Eywa allowed him to meet you through this vision. He was dead still, but his soul had been revived by you in the afterlife.

Neteyam pulled away from you and gave you his queue, knowing the bond would finally he complete once you connect your souls. You weren’t sure if this would even work, if this was all just a cruel vision. But Neteyam was here, you felt his warmth, his skin, his braids. This was really him. You were in his afterlife.

You picked up your queue and gazed into his eyes as your kuru intertwined, causing both of you to gasp as your pupils fully dilated. A moment of silence erupted, your heart full and complete as you fixed your eyes on your soulmate who was already looking down at you. You both laughed, pressing your heads together once more as your kuru’s interlocked, a soft pink glowing between them.

“It’s time to wake up, ma (Y/N)” Neteyam cooed softly, rocking you back and forth as you drifted off to sleep against his chest.

You nodded, realising you had to leave. You knew you’d drown in real life if you didn’t wake up soon. As you slowly woke up from this vision, Neteyam sang you a soft melody, one like his mothers song chord.

His melodic voice was the last thing you heard before you opened your eyes, waking up by yourself underwater as your queue detached from the glowing vine. You turned to your left and noticed Neytiri had disconnected as well, still holding your hand.

The two of you swam up to the surface, your lungs screaming for air as your head came out of the water. You coughed as you inhaled jagged breaths of salty air, tears running down your wet face as you remembered the vision of Neteyam. Neytiri swam over and held onto you as you burst into tears, hearing you wail as you grasped at her shoulders, raw emotion tearing it’s way through you.

The two of you swam back to shore with the help of Neteyam’s old ilu, knowing Ronal, Tonowari and Jake would be expecting the both of you at shore. Neytiri calmed your cries the entire ride back, holding your back to her chest and whispering reassurance.

You were broken, you barely managed to make it to the hut without stumbling over and curling in on yourself. Jake had to pick you up from the sandy ground and cradle you in his arms as if you were his own daughter, his hand placed behind your head as he carried you into his family hut.

You barely registered anything, your mind blanking anything that happened as you constantly thought of Neteyam and his connection to your soul. Jake sat by your bed and urged the others to get to sleep, but Neyriri stayed awake watched from her bed.

Jake had never been in this type of position before, but looking after his sons true love turned out to be an act he grew accustomed to quickly. The father of 4 petted your hair and moved your body so you were comfortable in your hammock, looking around to make sure everyone was asleep before he spoke.

“I’m sorry” He found himself tearing up, not sure why he was apologising for something he didn’t cause, but your eyes opened and your lip quivered.

“You’re so young to go through something like this, but… I understand” Jake’s voice broke as he stroked your braids, a tear falling from his eye.

“I was holding onto Neteyam when he died, I felt every cell of happiness rip away from my soul, not even Eywa could help me heal” the father looked away and wiped his eyes, but a sob was bubbling up in his chest.

“Neteyam thought of you in his last moments, and that gave him the greatest possible comfort before Eywa took him” Jake moved the position of his hand to hold yours securely, squeezing it gently to offer some unknown assurance in the dark expanse of the hut.

“I wish I could’ve done more, for you and him” The crack in his voice made you shake your head frantically, squeezing his much larger hand as you whimpered out a pitiful reply.

“It was no one’s fault we couldn’t save him, I constantly hate myself for not finding him sooner, knowing I could’ve done something if I met him before he died,” Your words were shattered by the lump in your throat, lashes wet and fogging your vision as Jake offered you a sad expression.

“It’s a burden I dread to carry every day I wake up, but I have seen Neteyam, and he has seen me, we are connected through Eywa’s energy” You manage a slight smile through your tears, watching Jakes eyes flicker with hope.

“You’re part of our family now, (Y/N), we’ll do whatever we can to make this easier for you” Jake whispered, looking to his side to notice Neytiri walking over and sitting down beside him. The couple looked over you, Neytiri leaned down and pressed a soulful kiss to your forehead as her hand joined yours and Jakes.

“We’ll get through this, eventually” Neytiri sniffled, holding your hand to her face.

It made you wince to imagine it, but you realised Neytiri and Jake treated you like a fraction of Neteyam. He lived through you, and you were now a token of comfort for the two grieving parents.

Any and all faith you harboured was now placed in Eywa, you prayed you could heal. But a part of you was scared it would only get worse.

#x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #avatar the way of water

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elizabethemerald · 5 months

Text

Servitor of a Death God

AO3

Kara Zor-El crashed into the street, shattering the concrete under her. She pushed herself shakily up for a moment before she collapsed again. She could feel every broken rib as a separate screaming pain. Blood bubbled and foamed at her lips as she forced her eyes to open. Kon slammed down only a few feet from her, a pained groan his only sound.

Doomsday had once again come to Metropolis.

Kal was fighting him as well as he was able and the rest of the available Justice League was doing everything they could to keep this from becoming a slaughter. However there was only so much any of them could do to even hold Doomsday back, much less stop the monstrosity. It was now even more dangerous and smart enough to overcome any foe.

Kara could feel the tremors from the blows of Kal and Doomsday as she once again tried to lift off and rejoin the fight. Wonder Woman had been thrown through several buildings. The Lanterns were all but broken. Aquaman was crushed under Doomsday’s foot with so much force that it was only Kara’s super hearing that told her he was still alive at all.

Kon forced himself back to his feet and used his telekinesis to throw a piece of rubble before he fell to his knees again. Kara pushed off from the ground and landed behind the behemoth landing several blows to hopefully give Kal a chance to regroup and attack with new energy.

Doomsday smacked her down and stomped her into the pavement. Oh blessed Rao that hurt. Kara could hardly hear past the ringing in her ears. She was only distantly aware of Lois holding Jon back and keeping him from joining the fight. If he did then the entirety of the surviving members of the Noble House of El would be fighting to stop this creature. And if they fail, the entirety of the House of El would die in the fight.

Several super powered punches knocked Doomsday back away from her as Kal tried to rally. He was bleeding, Kryptonian blood flowing, a rare sight. She could hear his heart racing and he kept rising to face the final gift and curse of Krypton.

She pulled herself out of the hole Doomsday had driven her into with difficulty in time to see Kal backhanded down the street. He skidded like a stone skipped across a lake. Kara roared in fury, her eyes blazing red as her heat vision blasted out catching Doomsday in the back and almost driving him to his knees. She held the beam, trying to force him down, but its strength and durability was greater than her stamina and it pushed through her heat vision to knock her to the ground.

Kara gasped in pain, then almost immediately choked as it slammed her into the ground several more times. Each blow brought a new wave of pain as her bones, normally strong as steel, shattered like toothpicks. Her invulnerable skin was torn to shreds under the claws and bone spurs of Doomsday. After one final all mighty blow, Doomsday picked her up and flung her from the battle.

She crashed to the ground, leaving a furrow carved into the ground like a meteor. Blood choked her as she tried to catch her breath. Her hands shook and she couldn’t feel her legs at all. She forced one eye open, her other swollen completely shut, if it even still worked.

It took several attempts for her to actually understand what was surrounding her. Tombstones. Doomsday had thrown her directly into a human graveyard. If she had any breath in her chest she would have laughed at the irony, because this would surely be where she died.

Kara couldn’t help thinking back about her childhood as blood poured slowly from her lips and her many, many wounds. She remembered the lessons she had about the history of the Noble House of El. They were once priests to one of Krypton’s gods. Dan-El, the dark god of death, the opposite of Rao’s light. As the people of Krypton developed scientifically and dedicated themselves to isolation, their gods fell to the wayside. The people lost their connection to death and to Dan-El as the years progressed.

Her father had mourned that so much of their culture was lost, so many of the messages and means of worship of the different gods vanished, and now with Krypton gone, and the last Kryptonians fighting to death in the city streets there seemed to be no way for the scriptures of worship to Dan-El to see the light again.

She turned herself over with difficulty, a choked scream gurling out of her at the unspeakable pain. She pulled herself to the closest headstone, her vision fading. One of the last scriptures of Dan-El that had remained was one promising that he would return to save the House of El, if they only would call on him.

“Dan… El…” Blood bubbled and foamed at her lips as she whispered to the headstone. “Please… please…”

Her vision faded almost completely, only a tiny pinprick remaining as her breath stuttered to a close. Over the ringing in her ears she could hear the beating of her heart slowing, and stilling… and stopping.

“Please…”

A bright radioactive green flashed before her eyes, as the last daughter of Krypton faded from her adoptive planet.

The sky over Metropolis split as a brilliant green lightning bolt flashed across the sky. Those who were sheltering away from the battle between Titans taking place in the streets shuddered in fear, terrified of what new threat could be appearing. Superman and Doomsday stilled in their calamitous fight as the lightning arced from the outskirts of the city to crash at their feet, driving them apart.

Clark fell to his knees as a being stepped out from the column of light that remained frozen there in the air. Even the pebbles and shattered glass thrown up by their fight moved as if in slow motion. The figure, back lit by the green lightning, was tall with fine white hair that floated as if he was in space. A cloak of stars and a crown of green fire graced the shoulders and head of the figure. Clark’s jaw dropped as he saw the Kryptonian God of Death, Dan-El, before him. He perfectly matched the historical records from the Fortress of Solitude.

Dan-El turned to him and Clark found himself frozen. He wanted to fight, to run, it couldn’t be his time to die yet. He had to defeat Doomsday, he had to survive, his family was counting on him.

“You are fortunate, son of El, that someone remembered the ancient prayers.” Dan-El spoke, his voice seeming to pierce directly into Clark’s brain. “It is not yet your time, you have many more lives to save.” Dan-El paused and glanced back at the column of light behind him, then gave Clark a kind look. “You have honored your ancestors, Son of El, your family is proud of what you’ve accomplished, and what you have yet to do.”

Then he turned and Clark felt like the entire weight of the sky had fallen from his shoulders. Tears sprang to his eyes at his relief even before he processed Dan-El’s words and the tears became a torrent. Then the God of Death turned to Doomsday and offered it a hand.

“Poor creature of destruction, Death was never the relief it should have been for you, only a new torture at the hand of your creator. Come to me, and come to your rest. Let Death finally embrace and hold you.”

Doomsday hesitated, its biologically prerogative screaming that it must always survive, no matter what, but after thousands upon thousands of painful deaths, what little of its brain was not dedicated to destruction desperately longed for peace. Doomsday reached out to Dan-El and the two turned and stepped into the burning light, until both disappeared in an instant.

Clark blinked the light from his eyes and looked around. The column of light had vanished and with it Doomsday and Dan-El. The fight was over. Metropolis stood in silence, stunned that Death had come to the city.

In the months following the fight with Doomsday, Metropolis recovered as it did after every fight, battle or invasion that happened in the city. The citizens held their breath in the hope that Doomsday was truly gone and would not return again to devastated their home. Each day that went by without his shadow darkening the horizon and no return of the flash of green lightning that had taken him away let the people breathe a little easier.

Superman healed from his injuries and was once again seen patrolling the skies over Metropolis and the rest of the world alongside his two sons. The world and the Justice League returned to their regular everyday levels of chaos and world ending threats, hopeful once again that the day would be saved by a hero in a crimson cape.

However there was one crimson cape that had not returned to the skies. Kara Zor-El, Supergirl never again took to the air over Metropolis after her confrontation with Doomsday. While she still lived, her time as a hero was over.

Her recovery took longer than Clark’s, her injuries were far too severe. Sometimes she could stand strong and tall just like any of the other Kryptonians. However, many times, her hands shook too much, and her legs couldn’t bear her own weight. The best scientists and engineers of Earth combined the best of human and Kryptonian engineering to create a wheel chair for her, yet still she did wish to return to combat.

Instead of facing down threats as a caped hero, she worked on creating a temple to the Kryptonian god of death, Dan-El. The temple had information and sacred rites of the almost forgotten deity, as well as the history of Krypton. Unlike the other museums and history books, the temple had the true and accurate history of those people. Their most arrogant and humble moments are all on display, along with all the average, everyday moments of life on a planet now long gone.

Kara had given up her red cape in favor of a black, floor length cloak, embroidered with the stars Dan-El loved. Her colorful skirts and outfits were handed in for the robes of the ancient clerics of the House of El. During and after her recovery she dedicated herself to serving the god that had stopped Doomsday.

The worship of Dan-El was at first limited to those within Metropolis, but slowly it spread across the globe with the help of Kara and her temple. She gave sermons that were broadcasted worldwide, whether she was standing proud or sitting in her wheelchair with her hands shaking so hard the rattling could be picked up by her microphone.

Some of the hero community were baffled by her choices, that she would willingly step away from saving people, none more than Clark. Even with her injuries she could still help the superheroes even if she didn’t want to be on the front lines herself, just like how Oracle still helped as a computer specialist. He brought it up with her repeatedly, but each time she turned him down and said that she was serving her purpose.

“Kara, please-” Clark tried again after one of her sermons on Dan-El’s teachings.

“Clark!” Kara interrupted him. She glanced at the followers who were learning how the Kryptonians venerated death before she led the way into her private office. “I’ve made my choice and you need to respect it.”

“Kara, you still have the power to help others. Don’t you have a responsibility to do so?”

She scowled at him. “I am helping people. I’m helping them come to terms with the vast world of Death.” Clark took a breath to speak, but she spoke over him. “And I am fulfilling my oath to Dan-El in exchange for his assistance with Doomsday.”

“Kara-”

“Listen to my heart, Kal.” Kara ordered.

Clark looked at her in confusion before focusing on her. She watched his face twist and fall in confusion and dismay.

“Wha-?”

“I died that day.” Kara snapped. “I breathed my last in the graveyard where I called him. He promised to answer my final request, to spare you from Doomsday’s wrath, without any obligation, in this life or the next. However, he offered me a chance, a chance to keep facing the world, despite my pain and my tremors. He froze my heart in between one beat and the last. I will never fully heal, so I have chosen to utilize the borrowed time to act as his Servitor. I will spread the word of Dan-El, the Phantom King of Death, to those of Earth. Because he gave me the time.”

Clark looked at her frozen, grief raging across his face.

“Kara, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You weren’t supposed to.” Kara said simply, before she lifted the hood of her cloak over her golden hair. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another sermon in a few minutes.”

From his frozen throne within the Infinite Realms, Danny Phantom, known as Dan-El to the Kryptonians, watched his Servitor. His name had all but disappeared from the thoughts of mortals, yet now it would once again be able to spread across the universe. He hoped that his message would help. Help prevent the fate of Krypton from repeating itself. Help prevent the fate of his own home universe, where the actions of a corrupt government led to all of life being cut off from Death. He had spared her, the last daughter of Krypton, in the desperate hope that all the various worlds of this universe, and the many universes they have contact with would spread his messages.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #death god danny phantom #kara zor-el #supergirl #doomsday

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 9 months

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Note: another request! thank you once again :)

Warnings: angst/fluff. death, pregnancy, birth (only mentioned, not described)

pairing: SKMD!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric got you pregnant while the lands were at peace, but that would soon change.

wordcount: 2k

Masterlist

'Please, come back soon.'

'Pregnant?' Sihtric dropped his spoon along with his jaw, 'are you sure?'

'Yes,' you chuckled and took your husband's hands, 'I am sure my love, we have been blessed by the gods once again.

Sihtric was shocked, terrified and ecstatic all at the same time. Then he jumped up and wrapped his arms around you, and kissed your face all over.

'My love!' he smiled, 'I already can't wait.'

It's been a while since you had raised children together, as those were all grown up by now. And you and Sihtric also weren't that young anymore. A lot of time had passed since he had married you. Uhtred had reclaimed Bebbanburg years ago and you lived with Sihtric in Dunholm ever since, enjoying the peaceful times as a simple, domestic couple. And you both loved it. Sihtric was a fantastic warrior, who lived and breathed battles, but those days were over.

These days your husband got his adrenaline rush by hunting, scouting the lands, and drinking one too many jugs of ale with Finan occasionally. Raising another child was not something you both expected, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

You and Sihtric decided to not tell anyone yet, until your bump would start to show. And Sihtric had no trouble at all switching into dad/husband mode again, treating you like a queen every day from the moment you told him you carried his pup.

Weeks later while scouting the lands, Sihtric met with Aldhelm, who had a message for Uhtred. And so you travelled with your husband to Bebbanburg.

You and Sihtric snickered as Finan complained about his arse. You were all getting older, and you all started to have complaints, but as you and Sihtric were quite some years younger than the others, you both still felt in good shape. Soon, Ingrith came over with a soft fur cover, for each of the warriors, so their travels would be more comfortable, and upon Uhtred's request, she also told her haunting prophecy, which you and Sihtric hadn't heard yet.

'Seven kings must die, Lord,' she said, 'and the woman you love.'

'I am no king and I have no woman,' Uhtred shrugged.

Finan seemed worried while Sihtric looked concerned all the same. And he grabbed your hand, pulling you closer as the words settled in your minds.

'We should tell them now,' you whispered to Sihtric, wanting to break the awkward and sad silence, and he agreed, smiling again.

'My wife,' Sihtric blurted out with a beaming smile, 'is pregnant!'

Aldhelm had just walked over and everyone stopped what they were doing, staring at the two of you for a few long seconds.

'Aye!' Finan finally laughed, 'congratulations, you old bastard!'

Finan patted Sihtric on the back and gave you a hug, as did Aldhelm, Uhtred and Ingrith. After all the warm words and smiles, you turned to face your husband as he was adjusting his leather belt, and he looked dashingly handsome with his braided hair. Which was a nice change from his wild, loose hair you had gotten used to, after there were no more battles for him to fight. You loved his careless hair when you had him in your bed, but you had to admit you were happy to see his hair more taken care of again in public. But you were also happy that Sihtric's hair was nowhere near as horrid as Uhtred's long, uncombed locks, which you had laid eyes on the other day.

'Be safe, my love,' you said and kissed Sihtric's cheek, 'it's not just me anymore now who needs you back home again.'

'I know,' Sihtric smiled as he cupped your cheeks to nuzzle your nose, 'wait here for me, darling, I will come back as soon as I can. I love you.'

'I love you.'

Things didn't go as planned and fights broke out where Uhtred and his pretty boys had travelled to. Shortly after the horrible and sudden fight, they returned to Bebbanburg, and Finan ran to Ingrith while Sihtric was quick to pull you in his arms.

'My love,' he sighed, holding onto you for dear life.

'Are you okay?' you asked, your eyes darting over his face and armour, 'have you been hurt?'

'I am okay,' Sihtric smiled and kissed your forehead, 'just a few bruises, love. But how are you and-'

'I am okay,' you smiled too, 'and so is our pup.'

Time passed by and, as your belly grew, you needed all the help you could get. And your husband was still the most caring and helping man you had ever met, even after all those years. Always making sure you were comfortable and looked after.

When Uhtred ordered Sihtric to find out what Aethelstan was up to, he left you behind with a heavy heart as he went on his way.

Sihtric tried to make the journey as quick as possible, without getting reckless or seeking danger. He spied and gathered the information he needed as fast as he could, desperately wanting to go back home to you. Every hour he was without you he felt his heart ache more. Always concerned and worried about you, and the pup in your belly added even more weight to his worries and his eagerness to go back to you.

Days later Sihtric returned to Bebbanburg and shared the intel he had gathered with Uhtred and Finan. Uhtred turned a blind eye to your husband's concerns, but Finan shared the worry. And soon, you and Sihtric had to kiss each other goodbye again as they were to travel to Eoferwic, only to return a short while later again, before Lord Ingilmundr knocked at Bebbanburg's gate. Uhtred and his men had been aware of their plans, and Sihtric had told you to stay safe and hidden. But as you were naturally curious, you wanted to watch the events unfold.

You saw how Sihtric and Finan got a hold of Ingilmundr, and how Uhtred ordered them to put him below. And you smirked when you caught a glimpse of the eager warrior who still lived inside your husband. The man who would always protect you, at all costs.

Many things happened ever since Ingilmundr's capture, to everyone's horror, and you finally listened to Sihtric and kept yourself safely hidden away most of the time now. Therefore you also missed the gruesome event that happened months later.

'Uhtred has been banished,' Sihtric said after the rough day, as he held you in his arms late at night, 'we're waiting till he reaches out to us, then I will have to leave your side again,' he kissed your cheek, 'I am sorry, my love. I wish things were different. My heart hurts each time I am away from you.'

You nodded understanding, feeling equally as sad as him that he hadn't been very present during your pregnancy. But you also knew that no one saw the troubles coming that everyone was facing now. And when Sihtric and Finan finally received a message from Uhtred, they were quick to leave at first light, while you could give birth any day now.

'Be safe,' you said, as always, and kissed your husband's cheek, 'something doesn't feel right.'

'What do you mean?' Sihtric asked, concerned, 'our child?'

'No, no,' you held his hands and looked up at him, 'this whole situation, Sihtric. Something feels wrong, but I don't know what it is.'

'Everything will be fine, darling,' Sihtric smiled softly, 'we're just going to get Uhtred since he asked for us. I will be back again before you know it.'

'Please, come back soon,' you whispered as you tugged at his leather armour.

You wanted to press yourself against his body, but your large baby bump was in the way.

'I will,' Sihtric said as he cupped your cheeks, 'you be safe too,' he kissed your lips, 'I love you,' he smiled and placed his hand on your belly, 'and I love you too,' Sihtric said as he smiled at your bump.

'I love you, Sihtric,' you took his hand and pressed a soft kiss to it, 'we love you.'

You soon found out that your gut feeling had been right. Something had been wrong, and it turned out that Uhtred had never sent a message to Finan and Sihtric. They had been lured out of Bebbanburg, and the city you stayed at was under attack.

The Lady Eadgifu had run to you, just in time, as you were about to give birth, without your husband by your side.

And as tons of innocent people lost their lives that afternoon, you held a new living soul in your arms that night. You desperately wished Sihtric was by your side, because you were filled with joy as well as with a gnawing feeling of fear, and you needed his arms around you.

But all you could do was wait and hope that your husband was still alive and would return soon.

And the waiting seemed to be endless, as it took days before you would be able to look into his mismatched eyes again.

'Finan, I send no word. No command for you to leave Bebbanburg,' Uhtred said, bewildered after Sihtric and Finan found him.

And then it dawned on them how it had been a trap.

'We have to go back,' Sihtric said, panicked, 'my… my wife!' his eyes grew big, 'my wife and my c-child!'

And before he could completely lose his mind, they made haste to travel home. Sihtric kept thinking about your words, and about Ingrith's words. "The woman you love dies". He kept hearing it in his head, and with each new repeat, he grew more and more concerned. You had felt something was wrong, and Sihtric felt a terrifying feeling in his bones. He spurred his horse faster, as fast as the beast could possibly go.

And when they finally reached Bebbanburg, Sihtric signalled the men who travelled with them to halt, as they saw there had been an attack without even setting a foot inside the walls.

'Ingrith!' you thought you heard Finan shout in the distance.

You quickly sat up, holding your newborn in your arms, wrapped in fur, and you saw how Eadgifu carefully peeked through the door that kept you hidden.

She saw how Uhtred and Sihtric stepped into the wrecked hall.

'Lord, where are they all?' you heard your husband's muffled voice, 'w-where is my wife?' he asked, dread and uncertainty in his voice as his eyes darted over the torn up hall.

Eadgifu looked back at you, and you motioned her to open the door. You weren't strong enough yet, but if you were, you would've ran up to Sihtric in a heartbeat. Eadgifu was quick to tell her story to the men, but she was interrupted by Sihtric, who kept asking for you.

'She is safe. There,' Eadgifu pointed to the doors she had walked out of.

'Sihtric!' you yelled, and his head snapped up towards the sound of your voice.

Sihtric sprinted towards you when he finally saw you, on the floor, and he immediately crouched down as tears fell from his eyes.

'My love,' he said with a trembling voice, 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,' he took your face in his hands, pressing soft kisses all over, and he was startled when he suddenly heard a baby cry softly.

'Sihtric,' you smiled through your tears, pecking his lips before you gently pushed him aside, revealing the newborn in your arms as you lifted the fur.

'Gods,' Sihtric gasped, his hands clasped in front of his mouth, 'w-when?' he asked and swallowed hard.

'Only days ago,' you whispered and carefully handed your husband his son, 'your son,' you smiled and wiped your tears.

You looked at Sihtric, your husband, completely in awe with how he looked at his son, your son. He always thought he couldn't possibly feel more love for you than he already did, but the overwhelming feeling he felt right now was something he could never explain.

'Where is she… where is my wife?' you suddenly heard Finan's voice, and your heart sank.

Sihtric looked up at you, and he already knew it was bad news when he saw the look in your eyes. Your joy was, rightfully so, overshadowed by Ingrith's death.

And later that night, Sihtric held onto you tighter than he had ever done before, while you held your son. And you cried together, silently, both tears of joy and of sadness. Tears of love and loss.

Sihtric would thank the gods every day after that one, because you were still by his side, and you had both been blessed with a healthy son.

And Sihtric warned you that there would be a battle, but he also promised you he would come back to you, alive, and he promised that you would raise your boy together.

And he kept his word.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #sihtric kjartanson #seven kings must die

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trans-canadiantrain · 5 months

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Meta read of why the Twelfth Doctor chose that face

Basically, why the Doctor chose that face can be explained by The Giggle

Twelve tries to figure out why he chose that face, and assumes that it's to remind himself to save people, but that leads to an act of god and hubris in resurrecting Ashildr. He remembers where the face came from, that Donna asked to save "somebody, not the whole town, but somebody", but he only does so in an emotional moment where he's not thinking logically and letting his guilt get the better of him. In actuality, his subconscious chose that face to remind him of Donna, and that he should go back for her and rest a while. After all, he just spent 900 years on Trenzalore fighting a war, that was traumatizing as hell. But he doesn't go find Donna (and Clara, bless her hot mess, is totally an enabler), and whilst he does spend 24 years with River, and then like 70 guarding a vault, he's still on alert, so to speak, not settling, not resting. He embraces endings, but he doesn't know how to emotionally deal with the endings once they've, well, ended. All though Series 10 he's mourning River, he clearly spent that night on Darillium for her sake, not for his. (And as Eleven, he loved the Ponds, but he never settled with them.)

Thirteen's face is the Doctor repressing, hiding this emotional fatigue and weariness under a facade of smiles, choosing in the moment of his regeneration to just keep plodding on because to him "rest" means "death". "One more lifetime won't kill anybody. Except me." The Doctor assumes "oh well, I can just change my face again and be new and maybe this tiredness I feel will go away". They are wrong, they get fucked over with the Timeless Child and the Flux, suddenly have to go through an identity crisis, repress it HARD, friendzone Yaz, then her subconscious goes "Okay time to make this explicit to you" and bam, David Tennant again. The TARDIS gets in on it and drops him down in front of Donna.

And that's how we end up with the specials and Fourteen getting some needed rest and rehab. It's been absolute centuries of the Doctor constantly pushing and pushing and assuming they can't stop running because it's all they've ever known, and now he has finally embraced it with the help of Donna.

#doctor who #doctor who meta #twelfth doctor #donna noble #thirteenth doctor #fourteenth doctor #yeehaw headcanon time

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lueurjun · 10 months

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youtuber bf sunghoon

youtuber!sunghoon x reader! in which he is a world renowned youtube star with millions of subscribers but his favourite person will always steal the spotlight — requests are open officially now if you want something specific:)

honestly i see him being one of those youtubers that started posting when they were a kid and just grew a huge fan base from there

like hes been posting since he was like eleven and now hes 20 with over 15 million subs

yes. i’m giving him 15 million. he deserves more. subscribe to him rn

and you’re not on the youtube scene until the two of you start dating

but how you met is actually filmed

he was filming a vlog with his friends and they decided to film a basketball vid for heeseung’s channel

now sunghoon isn’t bad at basketball but he isn’t the best

so you can probably see where this is going

if not then… you were innocently passing by the court when the ball flung over the high gate and smacked you in the side of the head

you wanted death to welcome you

really you could’ve curled up in a ball

pain and embarrassment you didn’t know which was worse

“riki stop laughing- oh my god-”

you couldn’t really see that well but you managed to make out multiple figures on the court standing still just staring

one of them had their hands slapped over their mouth so you assumed that one was riki

someone was leaving the court but you couldn’t make out it it was one person or two because your vision was off

poor you just wanted a slushie to cool you down

you ended up walking away with bf tho so let’s be real… getting slapped in the head was worth it

“i’m so sorry- are you okay?”

“oh no. it’s fine. cant see but you know… it’s all good”

you little people pleaser you

the person takes your hand awkwardly to try and steady you

because that ball had knocked off your entire balance

thats so embarrassing for you im so sorry for doing this to you BUT ITS FOR THE PLOT! you’re gorgeous enough to get through it, your face card never declines bae just take it in stride

after a few moments your vision settled and you were finally able to focus on the boy

and boy was he fine

suddenly the embarrassment seemed worse than the pain

because a really hot guy just watched you get a ball to the head

“do i need to take you somewhere to get checked? you don’t have a concussion right? i didn’t kill you or anything?”

the only thing he killed was your ego

despite insisting that you’re fine, he convinces you to let him buy you a slushie as a makeup gift

cue the annoying wolf whistles when his friends see the two of you walking away together

sunghoon flips them off forgetting all about the video he was supposed to film for heeseung

and you best believe that long legged mf kept that part in the vid

anyways the two of you get a slushie together and he tells you all about his channel and eventually when it’s time for you to head home

he asks if he can see you again

and you’re just like *debby ryan meme* who me?

that was horrifyingly cringe i am so sorry

skipping past that, you are not about to turn this man down so you agree and a date is scheduled

moving on from how sunghoon was blessed with your existence, let’s get into your relationship — my favourite part;D

his fans absolutely adore you as they should

im your biggest fan tho don’t forget that pls

literally his stans beef with him asking if he can fight

no but fr can he because i’ll get my boxing gloves on rn

sorry sorry

videos with you always get a lot of views but there isn’t many of them since he does value privacy and is quite protective

theres like a video with you once every six months and then you’ll just make the odd appearance in the background

his friends LOVE having you in their videos tho bc you bring in them views bc everyone loves you so much

ultimately as much sunghoon would like to protect and shield you, he knows you are your own person and let’s you decide whether you want to be in their videos or not

most of the time you’re like sure because it’s fun

there’s definitely fan made compilations of sunghoon being an absolute simp for you

THE FAN EDITS!!! THE FAN EDITS!!!

you literally sit and watch them before you go to sleep

ngl id do that too i don’t blame u

the video of you being knocked out by the ball is an iconic moment in his fandom

his friends bring it up any chance they get

“remember when sunghoon knocked all of the brain cells out of their head?”

“what brain cells? they had none to begin with.”

cue you throwing a pillow at the youngest for that comment

“you’re like 6! go learn how to read.”

ni-ki definitely sees you as an older sibling and as much as he teases you, he adores you

the boy literally threatens sunghoon whenever you aren’t around

“i swear if you mess up this relationship and make me a child of divorce, i will roundhouse kick you”

sunghoon just snorts but he knows he will never ever hurt you

because the idea of breaking your precious heart genuinely fills him with dread and nausea

also because me and ni-ki have a y/n protection squad going. we’ve got your back ml don’t worry

sometimes he films for hours and then goes straight to editing with no breaks so you always supply him with some water and snacks

that definitely convinces him to take a break because he just needs to kiss all over your face for being so darn amazing

you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him

isn’t sappy often but he has his moments where he’ll remind you of how much he genuinely loves and appreciates you

those little declarations always make you sob

and now i’m gonna sob because you’re both just so in love

definitely the internets favourite couple

now that’s over, excuse me whilst i go slide down a wall and cry of loneliness:)

small end note — had this in the drafts for a while and i’m not too keen on it but it took some time to do, so here we are. also thank you for all of your support recently! i’m very grateful and appreciate of you! much love! :)

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five-rivers · 2 years

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Banshee

It took months for him to realize it, but ever since the accident that took half his life, Danny could sense the approach of death. He could, metaphorically speaking, hear the fall of their footsteps, the wind whistling over their scythe.

The length of time was because, in the modern world, the dying are segregated. Kept away in homes or hospitals. Not out and about where teenagers could run into them. Certainly, people died in public only infrequently.

But death is an unavoidable fact of life. Sooner or later, he was always going to run into it, and he did.

The first time was in the park, on a peaceful, ghost-free day. Maybe that was surprising, considering how often he got into violent, dangerous fights. Maybe it was just the universe being kind for once. He’d been walking past a group of elderly people playing chess when he felt a prickling in his eyes. The prickling turned into tears. Tears he couldn’t stop until Sam and Tucker dragged him away.

They chalked it up to a freak act of teenage hormones and left it at that.

Except, that wasn’t the last time it happened. A car wreck. A day at a restaurant. An ordinary walk down the street. In the middle of a ghost fight, where Danny saved a civilian from being crushed by rubble and barely registered that his tears stopped in the same moment.

But he didn’t put things together until that time he and Sam visited Tucker in the hospital, after he broke his leg.

It wasn’t a power Danny had any desire to experiment with, but like all of his powers, not knowing the limits of it felt irresponsible at best. Although most adults wouldn’t consider Danny responsible, between skipped classes, missing homework, and staying up until dawn to play video games, the fact was that Danny took his responsibilities very seriously. He just had to prioritize, sometimes.

(Also, he was a teenager. If he didn’t have some fun now and again, he’d shrivel up and die. Playing video games was one of the few fun things he could do at all hours.)

Eventually, between himself, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, they worked out that this power only activated, for lack of a better word, when the death was going to happen within twenty-four hours, and usually much less than that, such as in the case of things like almost-getting-squished-by-rubble.

The good thing was that for some things, Danny could intervene. But for others, there was nothing he could do. He could stop cars, but not strokes. He could give CPR, but not a new heart. He could tell people to go to the doctor, but there wasn’t any cure for old age.

And that was assuming he could find the person and figure out what was wrong in the first place. He couldn’t always.

Which led to things like the current situation.

Regardless of supernatural goings-on, school was a blessed constant. A point of stability when everything else threatened to dissolve. Danny’s friends were there. Ghost hunters weren’t going to burst in without warning. People regularly practiced evacuating.

Was it his favorite place? No. But even Vlad couldn’t just shut down a public school. So, even when Danny resented it, he appreciated school.

Worst thing that could happen, outside of a ghost attack, was Dash sticking him in a locker, and Danny had figured out how to pick them from the inside. He did so now, and hopped out, sneakers squeaking a little on the linoleum.

Today was a completely normal day. He’d walk into class late, get scolded and marked tardy, sit through a lecture that was both boring and confusing, finish up the day with more of the same, and hang out with Sam and Tucker after school. Maybe do some homework. Patrol at night, since tomorrow was Saturday.

Normal.

Maybe if he repeated it often enough, it’d be true.

He trudged down the hallway, having made himself depressed. If he went faster, maybe the teacher wouldn’t be too upset, but it wasn’t his fault that Dash was a troglodyte.

He reached the door and paused, his eyes were stinging. Had he gotten something in them, or…?

Or…

The tears began to fall.

Oh, no. Oh, no. This couldn’t be happening here. Not now. Not– No. It couldn’t be happening to someone in his class, or– His teacher? Could it be the teacher, Mr. Falluca?

He opened the door slowly.

“Thank you for joining us, Danny,” said Mr. Falluca. “I’ll be marking you tardy for– Are you alright? Why are you crying?”

“Uh,” said Danny, scanning the room. No one looked hurt or anything, but he of all people knew how to hide injuries. Just because they didn’t look hurt– Wait, could it be someone in one of the neighboring classes?

How did someone die at school anyway?

Wait, no, stupid question. He knew people who had died at school.

“Lockers,” he said. The word was hard to force out. He took a few steps back, and looked to the lockers on either side of the door. They weren’t made to be easy to see into.

But…

Danny put his hand on one of the lockers.

“Danny?” said Mr. Falluca, having come to the door.

“I think someone’s stuck in here,” said Danny. “I don’t think they’re conscious.”

Falluca blinked and withdrew before coming back with his key ring. “If this is some sort of joke,” he started, warningly, fishing a key labeled ‘locker master’ in tiny script from the mass of jingling metal.

Mikey tumbling, unconscious, from the locker wasn’t a joke.

So. The day wasn’t normal.

That was okay. Disaster (death) had been averted. Mikey would be… not fine, but alive. Danny was also fine. Mostly. Even though he was currently in (the front seat) of a police car.

The police had wanted to know how Danny had noticed that Mikey was in the locker, so he’d had to stay for a while after. They were bringing him home now. Mom had sent him a text a few minutes ago to let him know they had ordered pizza from his favorite place for lunch, and Jazz had just come home from picking it up.

The policeman parked in front of his house. “You’ll be okay, kid?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, jumping out as fast as he could. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.”

Danny took the stairs to the front door two at a time, and more or less barreled through the door at top speed. He was hungry and tired and stressed and wanted that pizza, darn it.

At the door into the dining room, he stopped.

The corners of his eyes started to prickle.

#ectoberhaunt #ectoberhaunt order #ectoberhaunt22 #danny phantom #ectoberhaunt 2022 day 5: banshee #day 5

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monstersdownthepath · 4 months

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Herald of Iomedae: The Hand of the Inheritor

CR 15

Lawful Good Large Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 292 (image from the Wrath of the Righteous video game!)

Among the most famous of the Divine Heralds is the first one we'll be looking at during Heralds of Hope Month. I say 'most famous' for a few reasons; he's one of the most active Heralds on the planet, what with that whole Worldwound problem going on in the north. There is rarely a moment's rest allowed for the Hand of the Inheritor in the tireless battle against the Abyss' expansion, so it's perhaps no small surprise surprise that he would eventually make a terrible and tragic mistake and end up the mercy of someone without any.

There's other reasons he's famous, in and out of universe, and those reasons are why he's no longer the Herald of Iomedae.

But this isn't talking about the now, we're still in the then! When he was at his strongest, healthiest, and least corrupted most devoted to the ideals of the Inheritor Goddess. Fittingly enough for the servant of what is essentially the Goddess of Paladins, the Hand is an angel blessed with the powers of a Paladin, built for and unafraid to put himself right in the middle of a pitched battle and cut his way through Evil like a hot knife while they struggle ineffectually to harm him. Like all angels, he's protected by a 20ft "nuh-uh" bubble that shields himself and all his allies from Evil creatures, granting them and him +4 to AC and to saving throws versus Evil creatures and effects, while also hedging out Evil summoned creatures and stopping any spell of 3rd level or lower from entering this sphere of protection, stripping many fiendish minions of their ranged options.

But of course, that's just what every angel can do. Let's look at what the Hand's unique powers have in store...

HAH, gotcha! The Hand of the Inheritor has no unique powers! I wasn't joking when I said he was basically an angel with Paladin class levels. ... except not really, because an angel with Paladin class levels would actually be much better than the poor Hand actually ends up being. But we'll get to that in a moment, so first, the positives!

Perhaps fittingly for a man who finds himself fighting alongside the front lines against demons, the Hand is just as useful bolstering his allies as he is actually leaping ahead of them into the fray. He has Aid, Lesser Restoration, Dispel Magic, and Magic Weapon all at-will, can grant himself or his allies Bull's Strength or Resist Energy 3/day, can swath the battlefield in a calming Prayer up to 3/day, and give everyone around him some extra stats and 18 temp HP with Burst of Glory 3/day. Any ally that falls in the midst of battle may be re-raised with his 3/day Raise Dead, but actually killing anyone he's trying to protect in order to draw out that resurrection is incredibly hard because of his 1/days: Death Ward, Dispel Evil, Greater Restoration, and Heal.

Killing HIM is even more annoying, because he's got 15 charges of Lay on Hands, which means +9d6 hitpoints for him as a swift action, IF you manage to get past his 32 AC. With such a menagerie of protective magic, you may think he's got no room for offense, to which I answer: 3/day Flame Strike, Holy Smite AND Order's Wrath to bring down on his foes from a distance, smiting entire crowds of them at once, and of course that's nothing compared to what happens when he gets in close. His 150ft flight speed lets him cross entire battlefields in seconds and settle down to begin Full-Attacking up to four times a round with his +2 Holy Longsword for 2d6+9 (+2d6 vs Evil) damage. Not only does he have a threatening sword, but his shield isn't just for defense, and he can indeed bash someone twice a round with his +2 Heavy Steel Shield for 1d6+5 damage. Anyone slammed by his shield is subject to a free Bull Rush attempt from the Herald as well, letting him reposition dangerous enemies as he needs.

Quite the force! But, sadly, that's about where everything of particular note ends. His Protective Aura is always on, and he's also got a 10ft Aura of Courage to grant his allies +4 against fear effects... But nothing else. Why, exactly, he lacks any of the other aura abilities a Paladin of his HD would have is a question I have no good answer for, and while he DOES have Lay on Hands (9d6 HP, 15/day), he lacks any Mercies to flavor the ability in any way or make it any more substantial... and, even more damning AND more baffling, he has no ability to Smite Evil. Given where he works, you'd think Mercies and Smite Evil would have been the second things Iomedae wrote on his sheet right after she finished giving him his gear.

Fun fact on that note, though: He wasn't originally Iomedae's Herald, he was Ragathiel's, and joined Iomedae's crusade after being awed by her skills and her sense of justice. She didn't even make him! But being the Herald of Ragathiel just makes his lack of auras, Mercies, and Smite Evil even MORE glaring, because Ragathiel has all of those.

There's also one unfortunate choice in regards to his skills that feels like a pretty big weakness: His impressive flight speed goes to waste with his lack of Fly ranks, meaning anything but a straight line is difficult for him to manage, and certain weather conditions or enemy attacks can severely impact his ability to remain airborne. He has more ranks in SWIM than in Fly! SWIM!

A lot of the Heralds in Inner Sea Gods have similar design choices, which is a huge shame, because that's where almost every Good-aligned Divine Herald is found! Whoof! His showing in the Wrath of the Righteous video game was significantly more impressive, with the ability to use Wall of Force and apply Smite Evil to entire crowds of enemies at once.

I'm not saying he's weak, no, he's actually a very powerful and stubbornly resilient melee beatstick that's outright immune to most demonic tricks and tools, but he's got some design flaws and odd choices that make it hard for someone like me to be interested in him. Perhaps this is why he's eventually superseded by someone with actual Paladin levels.

You can read more about him here.

#monster spotlight #holy heralds month #CR 11 to 15 #Pathfinder #dungeons and dragons

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elsfavor1te · 1 year

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ANGELS WEPT, pt. 3

hi welcome back to my cute little universe. this part is sad as usual but the next one (4) should have the action. little nervous. small reminder to please like nd repost! that’s the only way things get shared around here. here’s to hoping this part does well!

warnings: graves, panic attack/ptsd (?), sad ellie, mentions of death, hurt/comfort, probably ooc everyone, i think that’s all <3 enjoy 🤸🏾‍♀️

ellie sifted the coarse dirt through her fingers, slowly building up a little pile. her jaw clenched when she read over the writing on the grave for what felt like the thousandth time since she got here.

she released a long breath through her nostrils before speaking, “you got your pretty funeral, huh baby?”

a faint smile blesses her lips when she feels a particularly strong gust of wind blow. ellie wasn’t one to believe in stuff like that. but she’d believe in any myth, superstition, or religion if it meant you were still close to her.

her mouth dries up as she tries to find more words to say to you. maybe she should apologize again? maybe she should try and just speak normally; but that’s hard when you’re speaking to a slab of stone.

the cold breeze against her freckled cheeks and the hardness of the ground underneath her knees takes her back to that room.

“baby please get up!”

she shuts her eyes tightly, pushing her nimble hand up to her chest in an attempt to stabilize her ragged breathing.

“i’m okay, it’s all-“

the sound of a brick falling and hitting another reminds her of the all too familiar sound of that fucking golf club, dropping her deeper into her own mind.

for some reason she feels as if she can smell the blood, like she could when they were holding her down against the floor in that room. she couldn’t forget that metallic smell even if she tried.

she never thought she would find herself in this situation again. her eyes shut tightly as she desperately attempted to remind herself this wasn’t actually happening again.

her heart began to beat faster. the sound fills her ears, drowning out all ambient sounds of the environment around her.

she doesn’t hear dina’s concerned shout for her.

it’s a particularly chilly day but ellie swears she can feel sweat dripping from her forehead and down her face. when she opens her eyes again, her stomach churns as if she’s gonna be sick.

she still there.

she’s sobbing now, fully convinced she’s back in the situation where she failed you. she can feel the hands digging into the flesh of her arms and the knee in her back. the revelation makes her immediately attempt to fight the people holding her down.

nearly everything is the same. same girl taking away your liveliness away one blow at a time, same dimly lit room, same sunken feeling all throughout her body. one thing is different though, you. your face is still bloodied and broken, but your lips are moving as if you’re speaking.

“help me, ellie.” your voice echoed around the room. it sounded… broken, like you were in so much pain. “ellie,, please! you’re supposed to protect me.”

she whimpers, as she struggles. “i know, i’m sorry— i’m sorry.”

“ellie please help me! please,, please.”

her hands claw at her throat, she wasn’t getting enough air. she felt as if someone was choking her, stealing all of her oxygen straight from her lungs. “i can’t get up.”

“please stop!!” ellie’s sudden scream startles jesse and dina who were slowly beginning to approach her. they were unsure if she actually needed their help until her outburst, making them hasten their steps toward her.

“please don’t do this.” she pleads as if she can change the outcome of the situation. as if she could still save you from your brutal death.

ellie is brought back to the present by dina’s cold hands against her face, obstructing the paths of her steady tears. at first she fights against her, stuck between reality and the twisted memory. when her tear-filled eyes catch dina’s worried ones, she calms for a moment.

that moment doesn’t last long before she’s backing away from dina’s gentle touch, wrapping her arms around herself. no one’s ever seen her like that, no one but you. she didn’t want her friends to see her like that, she doesn’t want anyone to worry about her.

ellie’s eyes dart between jesse and dina’s worry stricken features as she attempts to calm herself down.

in an attempt to stop the incessant trembling of her bottom lip she pulls it into her mouth. the nervousness consuming her makes her accidentally bite down on her lip hard enough to taste blood.

she’s tried to stop thinking about how you looked when your life was taken from you, how you must’ve felt. she tried to get the sound of you begging her to save you out of her mind.

jesse’s speaking. she can clearly see his mouth moving but for some reason, can’t hear a word coming from his mouth over the volume of her blood pumping in her ears.

when the sob finally escaped from her lips and her knees weakened, jesse was there to catch her. he tries his best to let go of the initial awkwardness of the affection that ellie and him had never shared before.

they never had the chance to be this vulnerable with eachother before. sure, they’ve exchanged i few sentimental words but if you asked him if he ever thought he would have to hold ellie williams while she cried? he’d say no in a heartbeat. not out of being unwilling to, but from the only time he’d seen her express any emotion was with you.

“you’re okay…. dina and i are— are here.” he whispers soothingly into her hair, stealing panicked glances at dina.

“breathe with us, el.” dina chimes in.

ellie was too exhausted to fight his embrace once she had finally calmed down enough, just gradually dropping her tight hold on him.

there was no denying the embarrassment bubbling in her and slowly taking over all of her limbs. she closed her eyes gently and whispered words only loud enough for hopefully, you to hear before getting up and walking straight past her friends.

she couldn’t be here any longer, and she definitely couldn’t stand seeing the pity on the faces of people she loved. she could recognize it quickly after seeing it on all of the townspeople these past two days.

“ellie! where are you going?” dina shouted as she jogged after her, trying her best to catch her stride.

ellie ignored her, keeping her eyes focused on the exit out into the street.

she only makes it a few meters outside of the cemetery before she’s stopped by jesse’s hand on her shoulder.

“where are you—“

“you guys don’t have to come with me,, you know that right?” she turns and faces them.

dina’s look of confusion is mirrored over to jesse’s. “why wouldn’t we come with you?”

it isn’t that ellie doesn’t want them to, because she does. she knows they want justice for you just as bad she does but.. she feels unpredictable. she had no control over what just happened to her— so what if it happens again? what if it happens during a time where she needs to be focused?

“i don’t— i don’t wanna be a burden.” her red-rimmed eyes stare at the concrete as if she wants it to open up and swallow her.

“ellie, you go, we go. end of story.” dina grabs one of her hands.

dina and jesse had talked about the risks beforehand, out of clarification because they know there wasn’t a chance they weren’t going. your absence sat heavy on their hearts. especially jesse’s.

“…oh,, okay.” she whispered as she stood up a little straighter, putting her mask of confidence and nonchalance back on. “i need to stop by our house first.”

at their nods she turns on her heel and begins to lead the way.

———

the walk to your once shared home was encompassed with a comfortable silence, occasionally being broken by small talk about the plan to leave jackson.

by the time the group reached the porch of the two-story home, ellie’s mind was reeling. she knew what she had to come in and get, but deep down she knew she would be sidetracked. nonetheless, she rolls out her shoulders and reaches a trembling hand toward the doorknob.

she hesitates, tightening her hand into a fist. dina catches her wrist, giving her a solemn look.

“you don’t have to do this, y’know? we can go in and get whatever it is you need.”

“no— no that’s okay.” she gives her a small smile and opens the door.

the familiar smell of your home welcomes ellie back. if she was truthful, she couldn’t stand to sleep in the queen sized bed without you next to her, so she’d been crashing at joel’s for the past two days.

“okay… you got this ellie.” she muttered, only loud enough for herself.

———

ellie had finally made it up to your bedroom. your things messily strewn around taunted her, reminding her you wouldn’t be there touch them anymore.

it’s almost exactly how it was when she left to find you that day, apart from the small shoebox sitting at the foot of the bed. when she approaches it she can tell tommy left it there. your name is scrawled across the top in his messy handwriting.

her calloused hands move to open the top of the box slowly, unsure of what she may find inside. what’s inside makes her pink lips stretch into a soft smile.

your things are inside, what was on you when you died.

her fingers graze over the top of your trinkets, stopping at the yarn bracelet you’d worn everyday. her gentle green eyes examine it for a few seconds before sliding it onto her own wrist.

“ellie!!”

the shout of her name startles her. making her huff out a breath before yelling back in confusion.

“can you come down here?”

“is everything okay?” she asks, shutting the box and making sure everything is in its place before leaving.

“yeah just— just come down!”

ellie furrows her eyebrows but starts her descent down the stairs anyway, she slows to a stop when she catches sight of maria’s figure pacing back and forth in front of the dining table.

she nearly outwardly groans before she’s cut off by maria unfolding a piece of paper and beginning to speak,

“maria. i’m headed to seattle. i know we talked and i said i was gonna try to let it go, but i can’t. i have to bring these people to justice. ellie’s going to try to come after me but stop her.”

ellie rolls her eyes at this, knowing there’s no way in hell she could be stopped.

“take her guns. lock up the horses. maybe lock her up,” maria looks up and into her green eyes. “buy me some time so i can end this. stay safe, joel.”

the woman’s eyes seem to be overtaken by many emotions as she throws the paper down on the table and leans against it. “he’s gonna get himself killed. i had to— to beg tommy not to go after him.”

“he should’ve taken me with him.” ellie retorts. “you should’ve given us a group to go after those fuckers!”

“i wish i could.” maria says pointedly.

“you gonna try and lock me up?”

“i prefer you stay—“

“that’s not gonna fucking happen—“

“i prefer that you stay, but i know you better.” maria cuts her off to finish her own sentence. she sighs and looks over at dina and jesse.

“y’all going with her?”

their nods and mumbles of confirmation is all maria gets from them.

“‘course you are.. so your plan was to just- what? sneak out of here?” she begins pacing again, keeping her eyes trained on the group of them.

“..yeah.”

“on foot?”

ellie repeats her answer from earlier.

“i told the stable to let you out with your horses. grab some ammo too.”

no one speaks for a moment, not expecting her to say that.

“thank you, maria.” dina speaks up for all three of them.

“just uh- do me a favor and bring my dumbass brother back in one piece, please.”

ellie’s eyes soften, “of course.”

“alright then. get going, you’re… you’re losing light.” she nods at them before walking past and leaving out of the front door.

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annikin-annotates · 8 months

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Doomsday

This little ditty had been sitting in my drafts for so long, so I thought I would bless you with a tad bit of Aemond angst.

Aemond x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Grief, death, war.

The day was dark; terribly, awfully dark.

You awoke early, the pit in your stomach gnawing you out of your fitful slumber. Your hand reached across the palette bed, the furs soft beneath your fingertips, only to find your human hearth no longer there. You sat up abruptly from the bed, heart squeezing, but soon enough a small sigh of relief left you as you saw Aemond’s bare broad back facing you. Those stunning silver strands kept swaying with each movement he made as you silently crawled from the bed and got to your feet.

Bare feet making indents in the mud beneath the carpet of your shared tent, your hand brushing softly across the expanse of his back as you moved past him to the bowl of water that sat on the small table. The damp cloth across your skin felt soothing, the small rivulets of water sliding down the column of your throat. Aemond took you by the hand and brought you back to him, pulling you to his chest - wanting to feel you near him.

It felt strange, this moment of calmness. It felt as though you were both moments from disaster.

“Help me dress?” he asked, his warm breath fanning out on your skin. You pulled back to look at him.

“Of course, my love,” you replied softly. And so you took your time together, slowly dressing one another, drinking each other in. You tied his armour and he tied your shoes, you braided his hair and whispered soft sweet prayers to yourself.

Bring my love back to me safely, you prayed.

You could hardly fight back the tears as you both stood together, hands roaming over each other. The cold leather and steel of his armour reminded you so much of the coldness of a corpse - of death. You pulled him as close as you could, savouring what could be the last moments you had together. Mud squelched underfoot as you walked with him to Vhagar, and it took everything in you to not beg him to stay, or to not climb the saddle with him.

The closer you both got to the green beast the tighter you gripped his hand, hoping that if you held him more dearly or kissed him more fervently things may have been different. But perhaps you were only supposed to guide him to this, perhaps she never had a choice in the matter. It was the eleventh hour and there was naught to be done but to hang on until the storm had finished lashing.

You stopped a few yards short of Vhagar, the monstrous creature now towering over them both casting an eerie shadow. Aemond leant down and pressed his lips to yours with a soft kiss, as passionate as it was sad. The kind that tastes like a farewell. Tears pricked at your eyes, only to be brushed away by a leather gloved thumb, a sad glint in his mis-matched eyes. Thunder and lightning crackles and shakes the air around them.

“Do not fret for me, my love,” he offered softly as he planted another kiss to your forehead, inhaling at the crown of your head.

“I will always fret when it comes to you. Please return to me safe,” the words sounded hollow as they left you. Aemond nodded, making the short walk to Vhagar and mounting her. You watched on as he tied the chains around his waist and shifted in the saddle.

Sovetes, Vhagar!

The world faded from around you, gone were the shouting orders in the distance, and you stayed rooted to the spot as your eyes remained trained on the sky. The mighty she-dragon carrying the love of your life flew higher and higher, closer to the gods than you were comfortable with, to where the Blood Wyrm and his rider met them in the sky above the Gods Eye. All you could do was watch on in horror as dragons tangled and snapped at each other in a danse macabre, spitting fire and tearing at one another's necks.

Your stomach twisted painfully and your heart hammered in your chest as the dragons screeched and gave chase to one another. You had not realised before how similar Caraxes cry was to a human scream, and now it gave you gooseflesh and made an involuntary shiver run down your spine. Your hands had not ceased trembling since this morning, both fear and anxiety held you in their clawed clutches. You could feel the warmth of clamminess that had begun to form in your hands.

A sudden screeching outcry pulled you from the trance you had placed yourself in, red and green continued to tangle in the sky. It felt as though the world had begun to shift, your hand came to rest over your mouth, your chest shook with worry. It felt as though your ribs were an instrument playing a haphazard and off putting tune that nobody but you could hear.

“Aemond!” you screamed in terror, watching on as Daemon lept from Caraxes, drawing his sword as Vhagar glided into his path. Icy cold calmness washes over you, tense and painful, as deep down you knew that this was the only outcome. A violent end.

You could still feel the warmth of his kiss upon your lips.

You took two wobbly steps back, watching both dragon and rider plummet towards the lake below. You weren’t sure what gave out first, your legs or your heart, mud splattered up the front of your dress as you collapsed on the ground. The mud felt like blood splatter, the air was far too thick and breathing became far too hard. A stinging burn clawed its way up your throat as what little you had in your stomach left you.

You looked from the sky to the ground, your torso folding over itself as your forehead pressed to the mud - a grief stricken wail tearing through you. The feeling was indescribable. The world around you no longer felt as bright, as warm, as it did before. And, deep down, you knew that it never would feel that way again. You brought your palms forcefully down onto the mud again, and again, as if you were knocking on the very door of the Stranger’s realm.

You would not have minded in that moment if the Stranger had ascended to claim your soul as well, as you would do anything to be reunited with the love of your life.

The death of you was quiet.

Please reblog, it helps keep fanficton alive. xx

#aemond targaryen #aemond headcanons #aemond x you #aemond imagine #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #aemond stannies #aemond x y/n #prince aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader

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echantedtoon · 3 months

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In The Moon's Shadow (Yandere Kokushibo x Reader) Ch7 To Which The Emotions Uncoil

(IMPORTANT EDIT FOR THE STORY PLEASE READ: I have a real treat for everyone. After this chapter I will be working on the next few chapters at once since honestly..most of them are already done. Which means that the next three or four chapters will be posted at once. Stay tuned for when they arrive.

This will mostly be from Kokushibo's P.O.V. and spand over about a month.)

The sounds of the peaceful town was delightful to his ears. After dealing with the annoyance of his city and dealing with months of death littered battle fields, a place like this was perfect for a break in the schedules. Like the last time he came to this town he settled down in the cabin in the woods near the exit of the village. The place like Y/n said was indeed abandoned. No one had lived in it for quite some time judging by all the dust and cobwebs settled into the walls. But that's fine. The home was still in decent shape and it sheltered him from the weather outside. So it would suffice. He's had worse living conditions before.

Things were going well.

His mother would be pleased with her gifts. Yoriichi would no doubt be married like he wanted, after all he already had their mother's blessing and even if their father disagreed with the entire situation, he had a single soft place for his wife. As long as she was so ill and fragile, their father wouldn't dare argue with anything that could possibly cause her stress. So more likely than not, Yoriichi would be able to fulfill his dreams. The peace talks although delayed looked promising and once his father was able to set a time to talk, perhaps this long useless war would finally end. News was that the head of the Kibutsuji Clan was ill and this might not survive until the end of this year which would leave his son, Muzan if he remembered the name right, the one who would take over. Rumor also had it that they were also tired of fighting so perhaps it will also finally stop.

Then he could finally go home for some well deserved rest.

Then perhaps he could finally focus on the duties he's been neglecting for so long. Being ready to take his father's place in the future. Taking over the care of his mother since his brother hasn't been listening to the doctors and making her rest. Finally get his territory back in order. Do something about the resource issue. Build his troops back up to standards.

But most importantly become married.

His prospective marriage was put to the side as soon as this war started three years ago now. Only a small handful of noble women and women whom his father considered to be high enough status had been brought to him (four to be exact) and none of the four women were anything he found any interest in. The first had been rather beautiful, but she had been rather vain and spoiled only ogling him and not so subtly seducing him or trying to just for his status. He dismissed her immediately. They were terrible traits in a wife, and a mother. The next two barely spoke at all and all they did was cower before him. Fear was bad traits to pass down to his heirs and he was tired of them not looking his in the eyes as he spoke. The fourth was actually not too bad. Nice and polite and managed to at least look at him when he spoke...but she was too naive. She literally didn't even get the fact he was a demon until he literally pointed it out to her. Ugh. He still remembered the moment she asked him.

"Why do you have six eyes? Is it a new medical condition?"

".... I'm a demon."

"No. Really?! I never would've known! You hide it so well!"

"....."

His children were absolutely NOT going to have...THAT as a mother. He was supposed to meet another woman but shortly after his land was overtaken in the far east where most of the valuable resources like meats and weaponry came from. It was almost a blow to their entire territory.. Almost. But he'd soon be meeting them again once this war ended. He'd find a woman who'd bring dignity and pass down strong traits to his children. Someone-

Someone who could be firm but calm. Doesn't treat him like a lesser being because of a single difference. Someone who worked hard and someone who had turquoise...eyes..

....oh ....

OH NO-

He was always quick to vanquish those thoughts from his mind. The sparking turquoise. He was only fascinated by the color. It was a rare color. One he hadn't seen before on anyone else. Man or woman. He just needed to get his head straight and focus on what was important. Which was his mother and then getting back to his post, which meant that he couldn't let obstacles get in his way. The girl needed to work. Her wench of a boss was in the way of delaying her work. Therefore logically the best course of action to ensure her best working pace would eliminate the obstacle in her way to eliminate the bigger obstacle in his way. Yes. That was the only reason why he threatened the old woman into treating her normally again. Surely. The old woman would think twice now before causing such headaches for her-..HIM and stop especially when he was around.

But to be sure he walked past the shop a few times to check on her the first week....HER PROGRESS. To check on her progress.

A quick peek through the window of the door they left open due to the summer warmth, had confirmed his theory. Everytime he gave a quick look, she always saw her sitting peacefully at the table with one of the six candles and a small metal pencil like tool working on carving into the wax. Her peaceful face and calm smile reassured him that everything was fine. At one visit the old bat caught sight of him looking through the door from across the street. Her face paled and as fast as her old legs could carry her, she ran for the back. Her sudden movements caught the attention of the working woman who's head turned to watch her boss flee before she then turned to peer out the door. Their eyes made contact. She smiled brightly at him and waved. ...He quickly turned his head and walked away. It'd be best if he didn't distract her from her work.

He did not bother coming by the second week. She'd be fine anyways. He'd be busying himself with training in the meantime and hunting for food. The forest nearby did have a few nice fat pheasants, and a decent fishing hole. If only the fields up east were this plentiful with food...Too bad this wasn't Tsugikuni territory. Hmm. That's a thought. He'd bring up the idea of claiming this part of land to his father later, after all there was a lot of beautiful-... BOUNTIFUL things here. It could aid their resources until they stabilized. However the home he was currently staying at would hold a surprise for him once he returned. He senses the second presence within the home's walls before he even got close enough to the the door.

Now who would be foolish enough to trespass in his temporary home?

The wild pheasant from his hunt was dropped to his feet with a thud. A hand gripping the hilt of a weapon. A woman's shriek echoed throughout the home as the door was quickly slammed open weapon aimed and raised. ... But then was lowered.

Turquoise eyes met six red and yellow ones.

"My prediction about you being troublesome proceeds itself." The long sword was slowly returned to its sheath with a small click. This woman was no threat. Even if she was very troublesome as stated before. "How do we keep meeting in the most inconvenient of ways?"

Large sparkling turquoise eyes blinked up at him from the floor. It was a woman. The same woman who was SUPPOSED to be working like he paid her to do, and yet here she was. On her knees with a scrub brush in her hands and a bucket of water next to her, near her also against the wall was a broom and a few other things too.

"What is your purpose here?"

"I-..I came to deliver a few things to you but you weren't here," she slowly spoke.

"Clearly I wasn't. What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm cleaning." She blinked at him like it should've been obvious to him.

"I can see that. Why?"

"Because I don't think it's fair for you to live in such conditions."...He slowly blinked. "This place was pretty filthy when I came inside. There wasn't anyone around so I..." Her gaze turned to the side and a hand shyly fiddled with the scrub brush in her hands. "I figured it was the least I could do after all your help. No one deserves to be forced to live in a dirty home."

The demon did not say anything but looked around the home. The cobwebs and dust was gone. What little furniture the previous owner left behind looked cleaned. And by the looks of her, she was almost done with the floor.

A sigh escaped his lips. "I did not ask you to do this."

"I know but I wanted to. No one made me. Just let me finish up and I'll show you what I brought with me."

He only sighed and reached out to pluck the pheasant back off the ground. "Very well. But next time I would like to be notified of your visit to me beforehand."

She chuckled. "Fair enough."

He sat to the side patiently watching as she finished with what she was doing before tossing the bucket of water out and then returned to him with a smile. "I'm so happy you're back! I think you'll like what I brought you." He remained silent but watched as she brought over a few things. A pillow and a semi thick blanket being the first things handed to him. "Here. I have extras. It'll be better than sleeping on the hard floor." He silently took them from her lightly surprised. "Here. I also made you some food. I figured you might be hungry."

A rather large bento box was also given to him. Upon opening it, he found a rather decent amount of cooked rice and a meat and vegetable dish he hadn't seen before but it all certainly was home made. He just..stared at all of this unsure of how to feel about it but she wasn't done gifting him things. She also gifted him some soap for use during his stay there and lastly-

"I also brought a few candles I finished."

Already? It's only been almost two full weeks yet she was done with a few? He silently continued watching as she reached into a pocket sewn into her kimono and brought out two of the candles he had requested. The other things were pushed to the side so he could slowly take the two finished ones from her soft hands. It was the blueberry scented one and the pink one that smelt like cherry blossoms. Each one had detailed work carved all around their surface. Rolling clouds floating across a blue waxy sky while their neighbor occupied Sakura flowers blooming so fiercely that he felt any moment real petals would come falling off their stems. Sparkling eyes watched anxiously as they were turned in his hands as six eyes carefully examined them.

"I-I started on a third. The design is simple so I'll quickly be done with another. ...Do you like them?"

He remained silent and still before a sigh left through his nose. "These are both acceptable." He nodded. "They'll do." She smiled brightly at him making him tighten his grip on the candles slightly. "How is your hand?" She blink. His head turned down to her hand. It was still bandaged so he couldn't tell how bad the wound was. But her eyes went even more wide as he reached out to gently grab it with surprising gentleness pulling it up to his eyes. "Is there any pain?"

Her eyes blinked before her face lit up a light pink. "Oh. It's healing W-Well." She gently pulled her hand away and he stays still.. slowly closing from the lack of warmth from her soft skin. "T-There's not really too much pain." Her eyes shyly looked away. "It just stings every so often."

"That's good. I trust you haven't had trouble from that man then?"

"Sabo?" Her pretty smile scrunched into a frown. "Thankfully no. He hasn't been around since you told him off, but it is curious. My boss seems to have changed her mind about my punishment."

"I suppose she's not stubborn enough to keep up the bluff...You should return back and finish the task I entrusted to you."

She had left soon after and he was left to stare at everything before him. The food, the sheets, the clean living space-...Is this what came with being taken cared of? Well he supposed that he was always taken cared of this way. The maids always took care of everything he needed and the cooks always provided him with food at a snap of his fingers. Or in more recent years he's resorted to hunting and forging for food during these last three years because of the war and slept wherever convenient. If he was lucky he'd be able to sleep on a soft patch of grass with a rolled up animal hide for a pillow. He never complained about it. He never saw the point of complaining, it wouldn't change a thing and only make him look like a fool. Everything was always either handed to him without question by his birth right or he had to struggle to obtain himself.

....It was unheard of for someone to choose to do this for him.

Yet...she did. She chose to cook for him. To clean for him. To care for him. He supposed it was just all out of thanks for helping her even if he did it unintentionally. The candles were placed to the side. The food smelt..good. Chopsticks were used to shove into the dish and slowly raised it too a fang filled maw before it disappeared within. It tasted..good. AMAZING. Perhaps it was only because he hadn't really had a home cooked meal for almost three years between the battlefield and home but it did taste delicious. Especially the vegetables and boiled beef. It was covered in spices and some kind of sauce he was unfamiliar with but he did enjoy it after eating plain roasted animals. ... Perhaps he should get her to cook the pheasant? No, no. She was already busy and he couldn't have anymore delays. He was already testing his father's patience with fulfilling his mother's request. A blanket was unfurled with a whoosh sounds..it was very soft and so doubt would keep someone warm. Spread onto the cleaned floor it went followed by a pillow just thrown down, and a body slowly sinking into it's soft surface. The pillow dipping to accommodate the head laid across it's surface. Six eyes stared at the ceiling free of cobwebs now. It had been so long since his body had the comfort of something soft to rest on.

It would be a nice change of pace.

Perhaps if she didn't have anything tying her down here or was married by the time the war was over, he should offer her a job as a maid in his estate. She'd certainly be a good addition to the staff. Hard working, focused, kind, caring, responsible, actually spoke to him as a person- Hmm. Or maybe she'd fit in better with the cooks? She could certainly make a good home cooked lunch. He could make her his own personal cook. Or maybe he'd make her his mother's personal maid. If she was able to care for that old wench so well then surely she'd care for his own mother better.

Or maybe...she could be his own aid.

Eyes closed banishing the thoughts from his mind. Turning his head to the left facing the empty old fireplace. He already had a few maids assigned to care for his room while he was gone to was. He didn't need another. Besides all of these were only based on a what if scenario if he actually decided to extend a job offer to her and only if she said yes. There was also plenty of other candidates that could make a better maid or cook than a woman he's only known for less than a year. There wasn't even any jobs that needed women in his estate other than a maid or cook..

Except for being a concubine.

The very thought of him having one disgusted him. He didn't see the point of having an endless amount of women annoyingly bothering him or trying to seduce him when he just wanted to get things done or have some alone time. It was too much hassle for something he didn't even need. However his father had suggested the idea of just having one for if nothing else just to bare an heir for him. He supposed it was a solution for his bloodline and would save him the hassle of finding a wife, but even so he'd need to find one that'd be a suitable mother so in the end it didn't solve anything other than he didn't have to marry her. He hadn't found any woman suitable for a concubine let alone a wife. What woman would do?

A brief picture of his ideal woman passed in his mind. A woman who smiled at him with wide sparkly turquoise eyes, draped in beautiful silks matching her beautiful soft eyes, her body adorned in the finest jewelry, her silky hair framing her gentle face, and soft lips letting giggles escape as she gave him a shy look with a smile gently holding his hand-

CRASH-

He sat up panting, heaving for air. A nearby vase was sent flying across the home making contact with the wall from a throw, leaving spiderweb cracks in the wood and clay pieces all over the once clean floor. His eyes blinked one by one as he stared at the mess, only now becoming aware that his free hand had sunk into the wooden floor splintering it. Silence sank in the longer the demon sat there slowly processing his situation and what had just happened...A slow exhale left his mouth before a hand rubbed at his face.

"Troublesome woman. AWAY WITH YOU FROM MY THOUGHTS!!"

Gods was he this starved from any real affection that his mind is plauging himself with impossible scenarios with the first lady that showed him decency?! Sigh. Alright. First order of business after the war...Find a wife. He wouldn't allow himself to drag himself down to the level of a degenerate!! He decided to occupy his thoughts by going out and harshly training himself for the rest of the day to cleanse his thoughts.

He decided to visit her again at work about halfway through the third week. Not because he was concerned about anything, but he was genuinely curious if she had finished anymore of his mother's candles. The door was still left open considering the extremely warm summer weather, and sure enough he saw her sitting there in her usually spot but no signs of her boss anywhere. Good. A rest for the ears.

She didn't notice him standing in the doorway at first until his shadow fell over her making her pause and snap a look over her shoulder... before smiling. "Well hello! I wasn't expecting you to come here today. Are you in need of anything?"

His head slowly shook no. "No. I simply came to see your progress. The timeline you gave me is almost over."

She smiled brightly at him and gestured to two candles set to the side. "I have two others finished and a third one nearly done. If you'd like to see them, you may."

He was already reaching out for them before she even finished her sentence. She did pause though when he leaned over her to grab both in one hand, his soft bangs brushing against her cheek briefly before leaning back up to inspect the two candles set in his hand. It was the green mint smelling one and the darker blue one that smelt like his mother's violets. Vines reached out and swirled within the mint's surface blooming realistic looking leaves. Waves rolled and crashed throughout the blue ocean in his palms. Beautiful work.

A hum left the demon. "These are also acceptable. I will take them."

She smiled wider. "I'm glad you like them! I will admit, carving waves wasn't easy as I'd never done it before but I think I managed really well."

He hummed looking at the candles in his hands before glancing back to her hands. Her hand was still bandaged and it it was the peach scented candle. On it's surface was half a beautiful dove mid flight on its curved cylinder surface. This one probably wouldn't take too long for her to finish as it was a single picture instead of patterns all around it's sides. She started back onto it despite him still standing there watching. She seemed at ease despite the looming demon casting a shadow over her. Curious.

"...May I watch you work?"

She looked up at him surprised but soon smiled calmly. "Of course. I don't mind." Her eyes followed him as he slowly walked and chose to sit down to her right. He was still wearing that hat and moved his bangs to help hide his face. "Are you hungry? I made a pie earlier today."

"I do not want to interrupt your work only observe."

She was already getting up placing her tools down. "It's not a problem. Wait here and I'll be right back."

She left before he could even protest, blinking at her retreating form before a sigh escaped his throat with a shake of his head. She didn't have to and shouldn't have bothered but she did anyways. Ten minutes later she returned and placed both a warm red berry pie in front of him and a cup of hot tea with a smile.

"Here. You're probably hungry just walking around town waiting for me to finish."

"I busy myself by training constantly. Meditation also helps pass time."

He slowly picked up two chopsticks and the plate that was given to him. Hmm. Smelt good. When was the last time he had a pie? He gave it another smell, determined that it was fine to eat, and then just took the tools left to him to chop off a piece to lift to his mouth. The taste of sweet cooked berries, sugar, and the crunchiness of the crust filled his senses. All six eyes widened.

It was delicious.

His mouth despite his usual control watered as fangs chewed and swallowed.

"I hope it's alright. I haven't baked a pie in a while so it might not be as-"

She blinked as despite his usual composure and control, he dug into the delicious food. Bite after bite was had. When the sweet pie was already long disappeared into his stomach, it seemed to finally dawn on him on how rude he might've looked, he looked at her with slight embarrassment in his eyes about ready to apologize for his manners. To his surprise she was giggling holding a hand to her cheek.

"Well I never suspected someone would like my cooking that well."

"My apologies. I must've been more hungry than I realized. I'm ashamed of my rudeness-"

She waved him off. "It's alright. Eat slowly next time. You have a bit of berry on your face."

The demon blinked and raised an arm to clean off the wrong side of his mouth. The girl giggled again and just reached into her kimono pocket to pull out a napkin. He rubbed the side of his face and looked at his sleeve annoyed that nothing came off his face but paused when he felt something soft pressed against the other side of his mouth. The demon's eyes stared into turquoise ones, and he felt something stirring within his chest.

"There." He still didn't move as the plate was taken away with a smile. "If that's the case I'll get you another piece. There's plenty enough." She left again and two minutes later came back to him sipping on the tea she gave him. "Here." She said sliding the second piece in front of him.

He nodded. "I thank you. Forgive me for my behavior earlier. It shall not happen again."

"It's alright. By how fast you ate, it looks like you never had a pie before."

"I assure you I have. It has just been a while. Almost three years now."

She blinked. "That was about as long as the war lasted." Her eyes again glanced at his katana before she slowly sat down. "...Does that mean you fight in the war?"

He was quiet for a long moment before the cup was placed down and he again picked up the plate. "Yes but I don't like to discuss it with those who are not involved and who are innocent. It could only bring trouble...I would appreciate you do not tell anyone of this either."

She immediately nodded her head. It wasn't any of her business what he does and it doesn't involve her plus it wasn't her place to pry into his private life. They were acquaintances at best, and customer and employee first. Her hands silently picked up the candle again. Silence resumed for a while as he silently ate and she carved away on the candle. Eventually he took a moment to look at her.

"The owner is not here. Where is she?'

"My boss went to help her daughter-in-law with cleaning out her son's house today. So it's just me and you right now."

"Hmm. And has THAT man returned to bother you at all?"

"You mean Sabo?" His grip slightly hardened on the chopsticks. "No. He hasn't been back since you told him off thank the gods."

He relaxed. "Good... However I am curious on one thing. How did you come to work here?"

"My boss needed someone to help around her shop so she took me as an apprentice when I was a teenager and taught me how to make soaps and candles although she definitely has a knack for me being her maid too, but I would still rather work here than around drunk men at the inn. What about you?" Her eyes briefly glanced at him as she worked. "Why did you become a samurai?"

"It is an honorable family tradition passed down. I take pride in my path in life."

"You certainly seem to have the skill for it. How did you come to fight in the war?"

"Family duty. How did you come to carve?"

"I wanted to be a woodcarver but there wasn't any real opportunities for me to do that. I discovered that wax and soap was way softer than wood and I thought it would be good to practice carving on them so I can one day be a carver. It was just a hobby really but my boss noticed and she thought it would be a good addition to the store."

He completely stopped. "SHE thought it would be a good addition? So she didn't ask you if you were comfortable with doing it professionally?"

"No...Not really but I don't complain about it. It's still fun to do."

Disgusting greedy wench! If it was up to him, he'd arrest her entire bloodline! Unfortunately he needed to keep his cover and this wasn't his territory...Hmm. Asking his father to claim this territory sounded more tempting to him by the minute.

"I see..How is that candle coming along?"

She smiled again as she kept working. "I'm almost finished with it then I'll only have one last candle to carve for you."

"Perfect."

By the end of the day he walked out with three more candles finished and a small wrapped up pie she insisted he take with him to eat later. She just had one last candle to carve and then he'd be able to get back to his mother. She also seemed to be finishing a few days earlier than expected so he'll be able to leave sooner than later. On the last week of the month long time line she gave, he was meditating. Meditating with a head clear of thoughts until something knocked on his door. Six eyes snapped open. A hand instantly grabbing his weapon as his head snapped to the door.

"Kokushibo?," a woman's voice called from the other side. "It's me. May I come inside?"

...His form relaxed. Oh. What a troublesome woman. "You may enter."

The sliding door went open and the turquoise eyed woman stepped inside. In her hands was a small cloth bag and a pure white candle. "I finished so I thought I would come give it-"..She paused. Blinked. Before her face lit up a red and she looked away instantly. "W-W-WHY ARE YOU SHIRTLESS?!"

His brow rose. "Because it is summer and very hot. I prefer to meditate without sweating. I'm not indecent."

"P-PUT IT BACK ON PL-PLEASE!!," She squeaked out flustered at the sight of his toned upper body visible.

An amused huff left his throat before he reached for the discarded haori coat. "I assume you are completely finished?" She nodded still looking away. "Excellent."

The coat was tied around him quickly as he stood up and walked over to her. She shyly looked up at him and seemed relieved to see him fully covered again. The rosiness of her cheeks were soft compared to her sparkling eyes and the shy stance she took looked so-

B E A U T I F U L

He shook his head. "Let me see the candle." She handed it over without saying anything. The smell of sweet vanilla filled the air as he grabbed it and saw dancing snowflakes across it's surface. "...This is acceptable. Your obligation to me is done...What is in the bag?"

She cleared her throat. "W-Well, I heard you were leaving as soon as I finished everything so I brought you something to eat before you left." She handed over the bag to him. "It's a few baked sweet potatoes. You can eat them here or while traveling."

He took the bag from her and brought it close to his face. Indeed he was able to smell the food she described. "Hmm...These will also be acceptable. I thank you."

"Oh it was no problem." She smiled sweetly as a fluttering noise erupted behind him. Something black stopping on a window. "I was more than happy t-"

CAW!!

She squealed out and whirled around. He calmly turned his head behind him. Perched on an open window sill was a complete black bird with a purple ribbon around its next. It tilted its head at him before opening its wings and flapping them.

CAW!!

It shrieked again at them making her blink. "A raven?"

"Messenger crow," he corrected. His mother's personal messenger crow. And around her leg was a decently sized note rolled. "Hello, Ebony." He placed the objects in his hands down before walking over to her. He reached out and the crow happily let him scratch her neck. "Were you bringing me a message? What a good girl you are." The crow ruffled her feathers pleased and held still as he untied the message from her leg.

"Oh she's beautiful." The woman next to him smiled at the bird. Ebony puffed up ruffling her feathers more in pride. "May I pet her?"

"Certainly. Hold out your hand. If she doesn't move, then she's allowing you to touch her." He pulled the message away and unfurled it. "If she backs away, leave her be."

He didn't pay attention to her as she reached out to pet the crow...nor did he notice when the crow suddenly hopped onto her shoulder. His eyes scanned the message his mother sent and-...Oh no. This was not any kind of good news. As he suspected, the peace talks did NOT go well. His father wanted him back as soon as possible. Yoriichi was also taking the opportunity with his father absent and marrying Uta at the end of summer. This message was also a formal invitation for his brother's wedding ceremony...Which he won't be able to attend because of his father's demands to come back and help him with the next upcoming battle.

....It would be improper to not at least give Yoriichi a wedding gift unless he wanted rumors to spread.

He looked back up but..blinked seeing Ebony perched on top of the woman's shoulder. She was happily thrumming as the woman gently stroked her head. "She's very friendly isn't she?"

"Not .. usually. I've only ever seen her let two other people besides myself hold her like that." Which was his mother and Yoriichi.

She giggled. "Then I feel honored to be in her good graces." She looked back to him. "What did the letter say?"

"..My brother is getting married soon."

"Oh. What does that mean?"

"It means I have one more job for you before I leave."

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