⭐︎⋆˚࿔ Summary: After months of crushing on Bob, you finally go out together. Your first date at an aquarium is full of nerves and, more importantly, laughs.
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ Content: stupid amounts of fluff. bob is so shy and cheesy lol. no use of y/n. you like looking at the fish together. also you kiss.
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ Word Count: 728
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ Requested By: @iristheplanet16 (☆)
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ A/N: 1) I just realized my dream date would be going to an aquarium🐠🔥‼️ 2) ty iris/mars for being such a lovely moot ilyyy :D <3
The aquarium water sparkles behind the glass. Stopped on a bench, you watch in awe as colorful fish dart back and forth. Two yellow ones in particular catch your eye – they swim around each other in circles so quickly that they leave trails of bubbles, swirling behind them like a jet stream.
Beaming, Bob points. “Look, it’s us!”
You laugh brightly in response.
For the last several months, your friendship with Bob was all hugs that lasted too long, glances that were too quick from across the room. But one late-night conversation later, he finally caved and asked you out. Natasha genuinely cheered when you told her the news, saying that if she had to watch you dance around each other one more time, she would’ve confessed for you.
Well, now you get to watch the fish dance around each other instead!
Your favorite pair swims around the front of the tank again. They look like they’re in a game of tag. One finally catches up to the other and, satisfied, they disappear behind a piece of coral together.
It feels like a beautifully corny metaphor for how you ended up here with him. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
Bob pauses the viewing session with a chuckle. “Can I – can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” you muse. “Anything.”
“Would you…” A beat passes. He stares straight ahead at the water. “Actually, never mind. It’s dumb.”
Your jaw drops in fake shock. “Wait, you can’t leave me hanging like that!”
“It’s nothing, really, I–”
“Please! Please please please,” you beg, shaking his shoulder playfully. “You know I won’t judge!”
His knee starts bouncing at a hundred miles an hour. “Okay.” He nods once for reassurance. “Okay. Would you–” Taking one last long, deep breath, Bob asks, “Would you love me if – I was a fish?”
You blink. Even in the dark room, you can see a bright pink blush covering his cheeks. You know him better than anybody – he’s being dead serious. The nerves are making him extra dorky today.
You burst into giggles. He is so freaking adorable.
“Yes, Bobby,” you say breathlessly. “I’d love you if you were a fish.” You nudge him gently with your elbow. “Guess the aquarium’s turning you into a real romantic, huh?”
“Oh, no, definitely not. You don’t have to lie.” He grins sheepishly. “Sorry, was that a weird thing to say? I just don’t…I’m not really sure…I don’t know how to do”– he motions between you two, hands trembling –“this.”
“That’s fine. I don’t either,” you confess. “We’re figuring it out together.”
Practically shrinking out of bashfulness, Bob goes totally fidgety and adjusts his glasses. They reflect the shimmering light of the water, which paints his features in a turquoise glow. It prompts you to take in how quiet and serene the room is.
It’s also completely empty. Perfect opportunity to sneak in a kiss.
Something similar probably crosses Bob’s mind, because he laughs nervously. “Another question, sorry. But can I…” He glances down at your lips. “You know?”
Giddy, you nod.
After a singular pause – knowing that your relationship is really going to change now – you both just close the distance. Finally.
The kisses are silly and giggly and everything you both thought it would be. Each time before you go in again, Bob slows. Like even after all the time you’ve spent around each other as friends, you still make him shy. A million pieces of confetti explode in your brain.
Eventually, when you pull away, Bob blinks several times like he’s coming back from another dimension. You stare at each other for a good couple of seconds. Two totally lovesick idiots.
Blushing even harder than before, he shifts slightly. “This isn’t, like, awkward, right? For you?”
“Nope.” You press a kiss to his cheek, then giggle again. “But I guess it could be awkward for the fish.”
“Maybe we should move to the next room. Give them a break.” His lips twitch into another smile. “Also before other people come in, too.”
“True. Besides”– you try your best to hold back what must be your millionth laugh of the day –“we need to head to the gift shop before it closes.”
“For matching stuffed animals?” Bob asks, interlacing your fingers in his.
Completely melting, you squeeze his hand back. “You just read my mind, Bobby.”
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Summary: the time has come to say farewell to your old life.
Word Count: ~2.2k
Tags/T.W's: EMOTIONAL DAMAGE. Angst. Parental grief. Crying. Goodbyes. Tobias being a menace, per usual.
Chapter 9: Farewell
A dense bank of fog rolls over the valley, muting the rising sun as it crests over the mountains. Dew clings to the grass, drops from the fresh spring leaves, gathers in shallow puddles on the dirt road. Smoke wafts from the chimneys of the surrounding huts, curling lazily into the hazy air. Evergreen takes it time unfurling, content to remain curled in on itself for a few hours longer. Waiting.
From the window, Tobias watches Eskel depart, swords swinging on his broad back. Every footstep is confident, fearless – determined. Leading him back into the forest, to the hunting grounds of the Leshen, where he will slay the beast or die trying. Soundlessly, the ealdorman sends up a prayer to Melitele, searching for some way out of this labyrinth. As is typical, he’s greeted with nothing but the endless silence of a distant god and the fog rolling in, smothering the land in its wispy tendrils.
You rest on your side, your features smoothed out in slumber. Through the open bedroom door, Tobias watches you, a blade a grief wedged firmly though the slats of his ribcage, piercing what little remains of his heart. For twenty-five years, he’s mourned this day. The moment he couldn’t hold back the hands of time, the fury of the Fates, the will of the universe. Crossing the floor soundlessly, he leans against the doorframe, letting his gaze wash over your youthful beauty, the smattering of freckles you inherited from your mother, the mane of flaming hair that reminds him of his own yesteryears.
Despite the bits and pieces of himself he can so clearly identify within you, the things he gladly takes ownership of, he has always known that you will never entirely belong to him, nor to your mother. From the day you were born, some part of you was parcelled away, cleaved and hewn, auctioned off like you were nothing more than a wide-eyed calf at a meat market. The part of you that could be bought and sold. The part of you that was promised to the Witcher.
His greatest shame.
When you were younger, Tobias used to imagine what you would look like with golden cat eyes, your perfect skin marred with countless scars. It was enough to drive him to madness – or more specifically, to the bottle. He imagined what it would be like to watch you go, a teary-eyed little girl in the back of a wagon, destined for Kaer Morhen. He imagined attacking the Witcher, driving a dagger into his back before he had the chance to leave the village. Surely, the mutant would kill him, but at least he’d die knowing – that you’d know – he tried everything he could. Now, he’s a shell of a man, weakened in his age, rendered useless by the invisible, scheming hands of Fate.
Mostly, he wishes that the Wraith had finished the job, all those years ago. He longs to be resting in a grave at the edge of Evergreen, his bones picked clean and soul content with the fact that you’d be just fine.
You murmur in your sleep, eyebrows knit tightly together, drawing the old man back to the present. Your sleep had been fitful, fuelled by the medicinal tea Agatha brewed for you. Since the Witcher walked out the front door, long after you’d been pulled under by the valerian root, you’d been twitching and muttering, teetering on the edge of wakefulness and oblivion. Tobias’s frown deepens. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear you were worried for him, even in the grip of dreams.
Agatha straightens your cloak, tying it securely at the base of your throat with a small, leaf-shaped brooch. She smooths her work-worn hands over the fabric, struggling to meet your gaze. On your back, an overladen travel pack, fit-to-burst with a handful of everything the herbalist had to offer – medicinal leaves, poultices, salves, dried herbs, crushed petals, strong spirits, a collection of precious stones in a velvet bag. Some gold crowns, tucked into your pocket with a hush.
Behind her, Tobias stays fixed to the window, a long, gnarled finger pressed to his bottom lip. Agatha fears for his heart – knowing there’s nothing in her arsenal that can revive a man who has no will to come back. The other part of her is afraid of the alternative. That he’ll keep waiting until he simply can’t any longer, petrified in his own grief.
Shaking the thought away, she focuses on you, straightening the cloak a second time.
“You’re fussing,” you tell her quietly, a brave look on your face. The healer smirks at you, that familiar cord of fondness reverberating in her chest. Agatha’s adjustments still, her fingers reaching up to pinch your chin between her index and thumb lovingly. “Remember what I taught you,” she murmurs, pulling you in for a warm embrace. You return it forcefully, some of that courage slipping in the comforting arms of your mentor. “I will,” you whisper back. “I promise”.
The both of you turn towards the sound of the front door swinging open. A moment later, Myra emerges, tears streaking down her rosy cheeks. You step away from Agatha, barely having enough time to extricate yourself before your childhood friend launches herself towards you, a broken sob in her throat.
“You can’t leave!” she cries, burying her face in your face. “I won’t allow it!”.
You shush her, rocking her gently, patting soothing circles into her back. The herbalist watches the interaction, observing how effortlessly you comfort the girl, your gaze full of manufactured optimism as you reassure her in a soft voice.
“You’ll write me?” Myra demands, wiping roughly at the flood of tears gathering at the swell of her cheeks, “and let me know you’re alright?”. You nod. “Every chance I get,” you vow, brushing at a bit of moisture under her eye with your thumb. “Take this,” your friend insists, producing a compact, ornately designed dagger. The sharpened blade gleams in the early morning light. “Bastien gave it to me,” she tells you, eyes shining. “Before he left. For protection”.
She curls your fingers around the hilt carefully. “I want – need – you to have it”.
“Thank you”. It’s all you can say before pulling her in for another tight embrace, eyes squeezing shut as your friend continues to weep.
Throughout the exchange, Tobias has not moved from his position at the window, his gaze growing more haunted by the minute. Agatha stifles the uncomfortable sensation of disquiet in her gut.
Several hours later, Eskel limps his way back to the village, the Leshen’s severed head held tight in his grip, leaving a dripping trail of monster blood behind him – though some of it presumably belongs to him. The fog that curled around the trunks of the trees when he set off towards the forest before the dawn has risen, blotting out the midday sun entirely. He moves through the mist, dragging his wounded left leg slightly. A newfound quiet has settled over Evergreen – something akin to peace. He knows tomorrow the birds will sing twice as loud.
The Witcher makes his way through the centre of the village, following the deep ruts in the dirt road, leading him back to Carlite’s cabin.
The trek takes twice as long, on account of his injured thigh, but he makes it all the same. The blonde-haired man is waiting when he arrives, stepping back from the open door wordlessly when he catches sight of him. Eskel deposits the Leshen trophy on the stableman’s kitchen table. Carlite studies it for a long moment, arms crossed, an impossible to comprehend expression on his face. After a moment, he simply shakes his head.
“I thought I’d feel some sense of …”.
“Closure?” Eskel guesses.
Slowly, Carlite nods in agreement.
“Wraith is yours, as promised. I hope he serves you well, Master Witcher”.
Eskel gestures his thanks stiffly, forever unsure how to take his leave. “Before you claim him – I’d see Agatha and get that stitched up,” the man suggests, pointing to the jagged lesion the Leshen carved into the meat of his thigh. “You’re bleeding all over my floor”.
As it seems to come most naturally to her, Agatha hums while she works. Needle in hand, she pierces the thread though the puckered, blood-streaked skin held tight in her fingers. Eskel watches her, skillfully suturing the flesh back together, promising minimal scarring if he doesn’t tear them first. He listens to the slow, steady thump of her heart, fully at ease next to him, stool pulled up close to the edge of the cot he’s draped across.
“There,” she announces, smile softly, seemingly pleased with herself. She snips off the excess, douses it with dwarven spirit, and slathers a liberal finger-full of salve over the affected area. Immediately it starts to tingle, cooling the inflamed skin.
Agatha turns her back while Eskel slips on his trousers back on, the torn fabric hastily pinched together with some leather scraps, as if she hadn’t been close enough to his most delicate bits that he’d felt her warm breath there a moment ago. Cinching the belt at his waist, he clears his throat, announcing his decency. She goes to the washbasin, scrubbing at her trimmed fingernails with vigor. Her normally squared shoulders slump, an unseen weight pulling her down, making her seem smaller.
“I can never repay what you’ve done for me,” he tells her softly – though it sounds foreign, too gruff in his gravelly throat. Agatha shakes her head gently.
“There is one thing you can do for me,” she sniffs, drying her fingers carefully on a clean towel.
“Tell me”.
“Keep her safe,” the herbalist requests, her lower lip trembling delicately. “Protect her”.
Without thought, Eskel nods.
“Promise me,” she insists, stepping forward and resting her hand on the strap of the sword scabbard across his chest, right above his heart. Hesitantly, he places his much wider palm over hers, the slide of smooth skin unfamiliar against his own.
“I promise”.
It seems the entirety of the Evergreen population has gathered outside of the ealdorman’s hut. Eskel leads Wraith through the crowd by his halter, ignoring the whispers and spits hitting the ground at his feet. Absently, he pats his new mount’s neck soothingly, hoping the gelding is half as brave as Carlite promised. Slowly, the villagers step aside, allowing him passage.
You stand next to Tobias outside the front door; your red tresses braided carefully in a single plait down your back. Nervously, you fidget with the frayed edges of your navy travel cloak. Agatha takes her place at your other shoulder. “It’s time,” he hears her whisper.
Eskel stops a few feet away, a steadying palm on Wraith’s chest to slow him to a halt. Idly, he counts the number of villagers, takes note of the tools in their hands, identifies the most muscular of the bunch. He likes his odds.
“Tobias”. He nods in the direction of the ealdorman. The old man is a thousand miles away. The Witcher’s gaze flicks to you, finds your green eyes eager to meet his. He reads shock there, sadness, perhaps a touch of apprehension – but no fear. “Go on,” Agatha urges, a hand going to your lower back to push you forward slightly. You take a singular, stumbling step forward. Immediately, Eskel reaches out to steady you. Spine straightening, you ignore his offering, your boots squelching in the mud as you break away from the throng of onlookers with an air of dignity.
The fog wraps around the hem of your cloak, swirling as you walk alongside the Witcher and Wraith. Eskel listens to the thunder of your heart, the careful, valiant mask you keep fixed to your face at odds with your pulse.
Behind you, the villagers remain frozen, their gazes fixed on your retreating figure.
Head whipping to the side, Eskel becomes aware of a second, much faster heartbeat. A moment later, a voice cries out. Finally, some emotion colors your cheeks, your pupils shrinking rapidly as you pivot on your heels.
Tobias breaks free from the crowd, a long, silver blade in his palm. He runs towards the Witcher, a wild, frenzied look in his eyes. You scream, realizing what he intends to do.
Carlite grabs a hold of the ealdorman, yanking him backwards with a furious grunt, the old man’s legs flailing, dagger swinging blindly. Agatha takes Tobias’s other arm, narrowly missing the tip of his weapon, and pulls him down to the dirt. “Father!” you screech in horror.
“Let him go!” you cry out, positioning yourself to run back to the village. Before you can, Eskel’s arm shoots out, blocking your path. For a moment you stare at him, a fire in your gaze, before attempting to duck under the obstruction.
Sighing with exasperation, Eskel snares you easily, dragging you back to him, before making the decision to haul you up and over his shoulder. He calculates a matter of minutes before he ends up with a pitchfork in his back, like Geralt. You kick madly, wailing until all the nearby birds leave their roost, pounding his armoured back with your small fists. You wriggle like an eel, fingers grasping, and tears streaming down your face as you watch your father struggle twice as hard against the restraining limbs of his people, bellowing your name until Evergreen disappears from sight and sound entirely.
hey i just wanted to ask you and i think you would be the best person to ask this to...so i am an aquarius rising and basically my 7h lord conjunct both mars and venus in 8h virgo , i have venus in 7h leo so mostly for sun conjunct mars i have heard extreme bad things like about marriage and spouse i just want to get a bit more clarity cuz everyday i get even more confused with the placement thingy ...all these are in d1 chart ..thank you sm ...i loe your blogs , they provide great insights ty for ur hardwork ...have a nice day !
Hello,
So spouse with leo will be very lion like. You see when it comes to signs that are associated with animals directly just try to imagine the animals. Now this lion being in conjuction with mars means firey, bold nature or existence. They can be very athletic, very primal in a way. With Virgo a mercury ruled sign I can say short tempered with 8th house they will be intense and private in general and in intimacy too. Healing or occult practices, handling other people's money and also with Virgo they will be in a serving sector or nature. This conjunction means they will be very driven, passionate, emotionally intense. Speech will be intense very dominant nature. But mostly through speech. With Virgo they will keep nitpicking things, will want perfection and that is where your karma with them shows. They will push you to grow spiritually and psychologically because of the 8th house. With 7th house leo they will show big love gestures. You will want big gestures from partners. Venus is very beautiful place in 7th house. They will be very romantic. Leo is very prideful but romantic and they will definitely show it through actions. Go big or go home can be the life motto for them.
Mars also signifies the male energy in our charts. So they can be very possessive or more so protective about you around male enegry that might feel suffocating because of 8th house and virgo but they themselves will not be insecure person. They won't need constant validation but will be very prideful and would want you to keep up. Not a bad placement necessarily but ego catches can occur if you are not submissive because they will be vry dominating. They are just someone who likes to be in control especially about finances, spiritual things and danger or any sorts. They will want you to rely on them. Both mars and sun are very confident and high energy planets both are fire signs so don't worry they will be very healing as well but more in a dominating way. Like they might scold you for something you did wrong and then say something like see I told you and you didn't listen but then hug you afterwards. They will definitely feel entitled towards you. Don't worry unless there is a malefic or debilitation involved everything will be fine.
♢ One of the first things you learn in astrology is what planet rules what sign. If you're learning in the modern day, you are likely running across the modern rulership scheme which puts Uranus as the ruler of Aquarius, Neptune as the ruler of Pisces, and Pluto as the ruler of Scorpio. Did you know about which planets ruled those signs for over a thousand years before the discovery of these planets, or the logic behind it?
♢ A beautiful part of traditional astrology that is lost in modern astrology is the symmetry of it all. Everything works in perfect geometric harmony. Everything is even. Modern rulerships have lead us to forget this symmetry and harmony.
♢ Pictured here we can see the traditional rulership scheme. The Sun and Moon, the brightest objects in our sky, sit in Leo and Cancer, during the brightest and warmest part of the year. This aspect adds to their qualities. They are flanked in order on both sides symmetrically by Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and finally Saturn.
♢ The planets flank the luminaries on either side in order of speed. It is clear when looking at them in this way that there is always the same symmetry. Remembering a few keywords can help you to remember where planets are most happy (at home) and least happy (furthest from home in the sign opposite from it).
♢ The Sun and Moon, as we already stated, are the brightest objects of the seven traditional planets, in the warmest part of the year. Opposite them sits Saturn, ruling Aquarius and Capricorn which mark the coldest and darkest part of the year. The moon is the fastest moving planet, while Saturn is the slowest. The Sun is hottest, while Saturn is coldest.
♢ Mercury and Jupiter also oppose each other. Mercury is quick-moving, ever-changing, and often given the archetype of the student while Jupiter is often given the archetype of the teacher. Jupiter is generous, well-established in his position, while Mercury flits from one idea to the next, never fully tying himself down and often revisiting previous topics and ideas.
♢ Venus and Mars are opposites. This is your classic feminine/masculine dichotomy, but there is so much more to it than that alone. Venus gathers together through poetry, art, fine goods, crafts, trades, and religious stations. Mars cuts, severs, burns, screams, and violates. Venus welcomes while Mars drives away.
♢ Now, don't mistake the benefics (Venus and Jupiter) for being entirely good, or the malefics (Mars and Saturn) for being entirely bad. There are ways to utilize a sword for good, and there are ways to use beauty and religion to harm. Each planet has its own unique characteristics and should be understood individually to have a more full understanding of astrology. However, armed with these keywords you will have a solid foundation to continue forward in your study of astrology.
Series Masterlist | Character Reference
PREVIOUS //
Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)
Word Count: 2026
Warnings: talk of sex
Synopsis: Almost 40 years after Elise Cooper first crashed into Natasha Romanoff outside the library at Columbia University, she and the Avengers are adapting to a near-immortal life together with their large brood of children. Yet things aren’t perfect. Life is moving on without them and they’re starting to discover who isolating being immortal can be. When Angela comes and asks Thor to take the throne of Asgard once more, the group leaves Earth in the hopes that they will find their Happily Ever After there.
Chapter 36: Childhood Dreams
A few days after the orgy we were taking a day to all be together. Not sexual and it wasn’t something we all officially agreed to do, it was almost as if the fact that half of us had sexually strayed we now wanted to emotionally bond.
It wasn’t just us though. We had all the grandchildren with us, as well as Nova and Thour, Mar, and Sarah. The twins were being very active. They hadn’t figured out crawling yet, but they had figured out that if they held onto someone’s hand they could walk, so Mar and Sarah were trying to race them around the living room. Their giggling and excitement had set off the vulparev who were chasing them around and chittering excitedly which in turn made Zak, Piper, and Flynn join in the chase, squealing loudly as they tore around the room, bumping into everything including each other.
It was nice. Not relaxed per se - but good. The kind of family time we used to have before coming to Asgard when ruling and setting up the comms didn’t keep pulling us away from each other every day. I hoped that now we were becoming more settled and that Thor was settled back into his role as king, it might mean we had more time to spend with each other as a family.
“And Nova’s the winner!” Mar cheered, picking up the little boy and tossing him into the air. He squealed loudly and broke down into giggles when Mar caught him and spun around in a circle. It was such an infectious sound, not a single person wasn’t at least also smiling.
There was a knock on the door and Rebecca let herself in. She was dressed in her Valkyrie armor and she looked a little flushed. “Oh,” she said, stopping dead. “Are you all busy?”
Thor stood looking at Rebecca with concern. “Is everything okay, daughter?”
“Yeah, dad,” she said. “I just wanted to show mom something?”
“Me?” I asked, standing. “What is it?”
“Good things,” she said. “Can you come? If you’re busy…”
I looked around at the others and Steve waved me off. “Go. It’s fine. They’re all fed and happy. If they need anything we can give them some porridge or yogurt.”
“Okay,” I said. “Where are we going?”
“To the stables. Put on pants,” Rebecca said.
I nodded and went to the bedroom, changing from the light dress I had on to a pair of jeans and a tunic, and quickly tying back my hair. When I came back out Rebecca was holding Thour while Piper and Flynn swung off her free arm.
“Oh thank god, I’m saved,” she teased, as she passed all the children off to Bucky. “Come on, mom. Hurry up.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as I followed her into the hall.
“It’s a surprise,” she said. “I’m hoping we get a double surprise because I saw something scandalous on the way up, and I’m really hoping I can show you.”
“What? What did you see?” I asked as I practically ran to keep up with her. She put her finger on her lips and cheekily raised her eyebrows at me.
I followed her down through the corridors winding our way outside, but not in the direction of the stables I usually rode in. When we reached one corner she slowed down to a tip-toe and waved to me to slow down. Each step she took was silent as she crept forward. Thanks to the threads, I knew that Tommy was around the corner, so we were about to scare the shit out of him, but I had no idea what he’d be doing that was so scandalous.
Rebecca crept up to the corner and peered around it. I could feel her excitement radiating off her and a sly smile crossed her lips.
“Busted!” she shouted, jumping out from around the corner suddenly.
“Becca!” Tommy shrieked. “What the hell?!”
I came around the corner to find a very flustered Katveil with a very annoyed-looking Tommy. Both had the puffy lips of people who had just been making out for an extended period and given it had taken me at least ten minutes to get changed, that seemed quite likely.
“Mom!” Tommy yelped and turned back on Rebecca. “Becca, seriously?!”
Rebecca threw her head back as she roared with laughter. Katveil fidgeted nervously as she seemed to try to hide behind Tommy.
“I’m so sorry, Tommy,” I said, trying not to laugh. “I didn’t know what she was doing.”
“Oh come on, mom,” Rebecca laughed. “Like you didn’t want to see that your matchmaking worked.”
“I am really happy for you both,” I said.
“Thank you,” Katveil said as Tommy threw his hands in the air and spoke over her.
“I wasn’t ready to tell anyone!”
“Shouldn’t have been making out in the corridor for twenty minutes then,” Rebecca teased. “Tommy and Kat, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.”
“Becca!” Tommy shouted as Katveil started giggling.
I grabbed Rebecca by the arm and began pulling her away. “I love that you’re together. Take your time with it though,” I said as I dragged Rebecca away while she laughed in hysterics. “We should have dinner sometime!”
“You’re so cheeky,” I scolded as Rebecca began heading back in the direction she was taking me.
“Oh come on,” she laughed. “They could have been in Tommy’s chambers. He brought that on himself.”
“Have they been seeing each other since the naming day?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “He’s really been playing it on the down-low. I’m sure Daj knows though. You should ask her.”
“Why aren’t my kids telling me when they’re dating people?” I said. “Are you dating anyone you’re keeping secret?”
“Who, me?” she asked. “I date my job. You know that. The whole romance thing is a bit -” she blew a raspberry. “I like swords.”
I laughed. “Swords are pretty awesome.”
“As for the other thing,” Rebecca said, putting her elbow around mine. “You guys are so into us being happy and making sure we can all come to you about everything that when we do date people you are so very, very welcoming. It’s a lot of pressure for them to be ‘the’ one. You know? We all know that’s not how you mean it, you’re just trying to make sure they don’t feel like our hulk dad, and our Norse god dad, and our two super-soldier dads, won’t beat the ever-living shit out of them if things go south. But at the same time, it’s a lot of pressure for everyone. Us to not keep bringing home different people all the time. The people we’re seeing to have to meet our ten superhero parents. You guys to be all open and welcoming even if you are worried about us getting hurt. So we just wait until it feels a little serious.”
“Well, I guess that’s fair,” I said. “Though we definitely don’t mean for it to be that much pressure.”
“I know,” she said, nudging me. “But also, I’ve never got anyone that I want to bring home anyway. So no use telling me.”
I laughed and nudged her back. “You’re a brat, you know that?”
“A brat that’s about to be the favorite kid,” she said. “Come on.”
She picked up her pace so I was practically jogging along with her until she led me out a door into a courtyard I’d never been to before. Some Valkyrie were sparring with each other, and others were practicing archery, and some were leading winged horses through the courtyard.
Brunnhilde spotted us as we came out and came jogging over. She was in her full uniform again. It was a strange contrast to the last time I’d seen her. “Your majesty,” she said. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, now more confused than ever.
“Thought you might like to go for a ride,” she said with a smirk.
“Oh my god,” I gasped. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” she said. “Come on.”
I followed after her, almost skipping along with excitement. Rebecca nudged me. “Am I your favorite?” she teased.
“You’re well up there, honey,” I joked.
We reached a large grey winged horse that nodded and huffed as we came close. “This is Agadis. You’ve ridden the non-flying kind of horse, right?”
“Oh yeah,” I said. “Loki even let me ride Sleipnir one time. That guy is fast. And I can do it bareback, but I tend to use a saddle.”
“Okay, well getting on is the same, only there are wings now too,” you need to be careful not to pull feathers. “As you can see we don’t use any kind of saddles or armor on them. It’s all leg commands. Get up and I’ll walk you through it.”
I swung up onto the horse’s back and Brunnhilde ran me through the commands and how to sit correctly, with Rebecca sometimes translating when I got confused. Agadis was a huge and powerful animal, but thankfully extremely well trained. Brunnhilde had me do several laps of the courtyard making sure I could handle myself. I took him for a trot and a canter and then both Rebecca and Brunnhilde mounted their own horses.
“Ready, mom?” Rebecca asked.
“So ready,” I said. I could already tell my adrenaline had spiked. I was completely buzzing and my heart was hammering in my chest.
“After me,” Brunnhilde said. “Rebecca, go behind the queen.”
She gave her horse a kick and it cantered down the length of the courtyard before taking off. I followed about a length behind, holding tight to Agadis’ mane and remembering to nudge him up when it was time to take off.
He spread his wings and flapped them as he took off. The movement was like going over a high jump, only there was no down, and the way his massive wings beat hard to gain altitude shook his whole body and created a gust that was almost painful on my legs.
I was no stranger to riding horses or flying or doing things that put my life at actual risk, yet even still this was indescribable. Being on this horse with no saddle and no reigns as it soared above Asgard took my breath away. My heart hammered in my chest and tears from the airspeed pricked my eyes. I felt alive and exhilarated
Brunnhilde led us around the city and out into the countryside and back again. It was a view I had seen plenty of times both in my suit and using Mjolnir, but there was something about seeing it from a winged horse that made it seem even more magical. Like I’d stepped into the pages of a fairytale. If my thirteen-year-old self knew that she’d get this life when she’d grown up she might have found it a little easier to endure what she went through.
When we finally came into land again, I felt high on adrenaline and elated. I jumped off the horse and ran over to Rebecca and hugged her. “That was amazing,” I said, squeezing her. “Thank you, baby.”
She hugged me back and rubbed my back. “Don’t thank me. Thanks, Hilde. She’s the one who told me to go get you.”
I pulled away from Rebecca and turned to Brunnhilde. “You did? Why?”
She shrugged. “You looked like you could use a friend who didn’t fawn on you. And maybe I thought you needed a special treat,” she quirked her eyebrow at me and I started laughing.
I went and hugged her too. “Thank you,” I said. “I’m going to be buzzing from that for weeks.”
“Anytime, your majesty,” she said. “Now go on. I have work to do. Rebecca, walk her back, would you?”
“You got it, boss,” she said. “Come on, mom. Let’s get you home.”
As I headed back with Rebecca babbling about how great the ride was to her bemusement, I couldn’t help but feel excited about the fact I finally had a friend here that was just mine.
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Hey, I saw you asking for request in the Yandere Dabi tag? So, how about Hawks gifting Dabi y/n for Christmas? There is perfect image for that too. I will add the blog where it is in the post.
Y'all have the most brilliant brains I swear.
•Regifting•
Warnings: Yandere Hawks, hinting of kidnapping, grooming themes, mild dubcon, major sexual tension, Daddy Keigo, Sub Dabi, Sub reader.
Pairing: Hawks x Reader x Dabi (brief Dabi x Hawks)
A/N: LMAO my brain took OFF with this shit. There's gonna be a part two. Lemme know if you want tagged.
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"Oh angel, you look perfect." Keigo coos down at you as you kneel between his legs. His lean body is clad in all black, well tailored slacks and a handsome button up.
He's reclined on the couch, knees spread apart as he watches you present yourself in the outfit he laid out for you.
It's very simple, very sweet. All skimpy and silky, hugging your curves and perking your tits.
"He's going to love you." His eyes light up as he shifts upright, wings spreading wide behind him.
His words make you squirm, desperate to please, to impress.
Keigo had spent so much time taming you, working his ass off to get you so compliant. You were a rotten little thing we he first brought you home. Always fighting, always running away, always crying.
It took time, patience, and so much punishment, but he finally broke you. It was a beautiful process too, watching you crumble, watching you buckle and submit.
Now you're perfect, so sweet and willing and obedient. A wonderful gift, a sufficient offering.
Your shaking hands hold out some ribbons and a bow, a curious look on your face as you blink up at him.
"I didn't know what to do with these, I'm sorry..." Your voice is quiet, timid, weary of offending Keigo. He could be so _mean _ when you disappoint him.
"I'll help you, don't worry sweetheart." His voice is soft as he takes the material from your hands, it makes your shoulder relax, thankful for his unending patience with you.
Slowly, he winds the soft fabric around your body, tying it around your waist in a large bow. He leans back and admires you for a moment, rubbing his hand over his jaw as he contemplates his work.
"D-do I look ok?" You ask with a timid voice.
He sighs before using his knuckles to tilt your chin upwards.
"I told you, you look perfect, pay attention." His voice is firm, but not enough to set you on edge.
You fold your hands in your lap and nod quickly.
"I'm sorry, Sir." You mutter as your eyes flicker down.
He relaxes into the couch again, and you see him pat his thigh out of your peripheral vision. You quickly hop to your feet so you can crawl into his lap. You let him sling your legs over his strong thighs so he can cradle you against him, one arm looped around your waist while the other brushes some hair from your face.
"Listen to me, little bird." Now his voice is the tone that sets you on edge.
You perk up and look him in the eyes, waiting attentively for his next words.
"I have a very special friend coming over, I'm going to share you with him, as a Christmas present, ok?" He raises his fluffy blonde eyebrows, waiting for your reaction.
"Daddy... What does that mean?" Your hands wander up to the collar of his shirt.
"It means he's going to play with you the way I do, and you're going to be a good girl for him like you are for me." His words cast a spell on you, filling you to the brim with curiosity.
"Will I call him Daddy too?" You wonder, a little displeased with the idea of calling anyone but Keigo by that name.
"No, you'll call him 'Sir', I'm your Daddy, nobody else. Do you understand?" He reaches down to squeeze your thigh, a warning.
"Yes Daddy, I was just making sure, I'm sorry."
How could he be mad when you apologise so sweetly, so honestly?
He hums at you, proud of the sweet little darling you've become, all because of his hard work. He brings his hand up to his face, tapping his cheek with his pointer and middle finger.
You lean up and press a small kiss on the spot, batting your lashes at him when he smiles at your well trained response.
"He's going to be mean to you. Much meaner than me, but it's going to be ok. I'll be here after."
Ice settles in your gut, you want to ask him what will happen, you want to ask if it will hurt. Then there's a knock at the door and Keigo stiffens under you.
He grabs your jaw, eyes burning into you.
"Wait on your knees by the tree." His voice is so low, so serious.
You scramble off of his lap and scamper over to the Christmas tree, settling to your knees with your hands on top of your thighs. Just like he likes.
You want to tug at your clothes, fuss with your hair and adjust your legs, but you know better. He told you to wait, which means be still.
Keigo walks over to the door, casting one quick glance back at you to make sure you're situated as he directed. When he sees that you're in order, he nods once before opening the door.
The man standing on the other side is nothing short of terrifying. He's a mess of scars, staples, and wild black hair. Vibrant, blue eyes lock on your form immediately as Keigo welcomes him in.
He's got a few inches on Keigo height wise, but he's much thinner. He strides into your home lazily and silently, hands in the pockets of his billowy coat. You remember quickly how rude it is to stare, and direct your gaze to your lap as he draws closer.
"Well, you sure as hell weren't lyin' about her being pretty." His voice is like fine gravel, rolling out of his mouth in a low, menacing tone.
You watch their feet as they walk towards you until they stand on either side of you. His boots are thick and dirty, made of abused leather. They're a harsh contrast next to Keigo's shiney, clean dress shoes.
"Eyes up here." Keigo's voice washes over you, you obey immediately, looking up at him.
"Oh she listens." The friend sighs, shifting on his feet a little.
Keigo crosses his arms before speaking, you don't break eye contact with him for even a second, waiting for permission.
"Hey there, doll, name's Dabi." He sounds nice, playful even.
"Say hello to our guest, dove." With Keigo's consent, you turn to Dabi and offer him a sweet smile.
You whisper a soft "hi" to Dabi, captured in his turquoise eyes.
"So fucking sweet." He says, mostly to himself.
"Have a seat." Keigo says, almost shortly. You know he's not talking to you.
Dabi chuckles before waltzing over to the seat himself on the couch.
"So serious tonight, Birdie." He sighs as he reclines, his hungry eyes stay locked on your kneeling form.
Keigo walks around to the back of the couch, bracing his arms on the edge directly behind Dabi. Your chest clenches under the pressure of both of their greedy eyes, thumbs worrying at each other in your lap.
Dabi pats his lap just like Keigo did a few moments ago, a sick smile spreads across his marred face. You immediately look to Keigo, who nods shortly towards Dabi's lap.
"Come sit." He commands.
"Yes Daddy." You lift yourself to your feet and pad over to the stranger, timidly settling down onto his lap. He feels so _different, _so harsh and rough, nothing like the soft warmth of Keigo. He thumbs at the bow around your waist, snickering to himself when you jump as his hand skims over your skin.
"'Yes Daddy?' Do I get one of those?" Dabi asks as you situate yourself. He smells like smoke and alcohol, and something you can't quite identify, it's something strong and sharp, stinging your nostrils.
You shake your head when you hear Keigo breathe in sharply.
"Daddy said I can call you 'Sir'." You say quietly.
Your eyes wander over his scared hands, fixating on the staples that appear to hold the warped, purple flesh to the pale, healthy skin.
"Oh Keigo, you've out done yourself." Dabi's hand runs up the inside of your thigh, stopping when he feels you squeeze them together.
"Don't be nervous, doll, I'm gonna make you feel real good." His voice makes your insides ache, and not in the good way that Keigo's does.
You blink up at him, noticing how closely he's holding his wings to his body, how tense his shoulders are, how narrow his pupils have become.
"What's wrong, Angel?" Keigo asks reaching around his guest to grab your jaw.
"He's sc-scaring me a little." You squeak out.
This makes Dabi laugh low and dangerous, Keigo let's go of your jaw in favor of grabbing his friend by the hair on top of his head. He cranks Dabi's head back, earning a choked sound from the him. The hand on your thigh squeezes you firmly as he sneers up at Keigo.
"He's nothing to be scared of, sweet thing, he has to listen to me as much as you do. Ain't that right?" He leans down to Dabi, a challenging look flashing in his amber eyes.
"Of course, Birdie." Dabi relents with a venomous tone.
"Your Daddy would kill me if I hurt you, you've got nothin' to be scared of." Dabi flashes you a cheshire smile one Keigo releases his hair. It puts you at ease, watching Keigo exercise so much control over his intimidating friend.
"I'm sure he warned you that I can be a little mean, you'll like it though, I promise."
Before Dabi can speak again, Keigo's hand is around his throat, the action making you and Dabi freeze immediately.
"No marks on her, Dabi." His words are final, dripping with authority and power.
"Aw, come on, just one bite?" Dabi teases, licking his teeth like an animal.
Your blood freezes when you watch Keigo's grip tighten around Dabi's throat, astounded at his bravery. Dabi's smile fades, suddenly crumbling under Keigo's harsh gaze.
"You haven't even thanked me for your present, and you're already mouthing off. Sounds like somebody doesn't want to get their dick wet." Keigo says, biting off his words as he leans closer to Dabi's face.
"Thank you, Daddy, I'm sorry." Dabi chokes out.
You're utterly shocked, nearly trembling as you watch Keigo work his magic, subduing even this monster of a man.
"Good boy." Keigo leans down and presses his lips to Dabi's, making your jaw drop.
It should make you jealous, it should make you insecure. But they're both so greedy with each other, so wreckless. It makes your skin run hot and your core ache. Your hips wiggle against Dabi's leg involuntarily, capturing his attention immediately.
He breaks from the kiss so he can look at you, florescent eyes raking down your body.
"This desperate little thing wants to have some fun, should we play with her some?" Dabi asks, looking up at Keigo expectantly.
Keigo looks at you with ravenous eyes, body poised as his wings flutter slightly.
"As long as you both listen, you can have all the fun you want." Keigo says calmly, standing up before rolling his shoulders back as he walks around the couch to stand before the both of you.
"Will you be good for me?" He asks.
"Yes Daddy." You and Dabi say it in unison, bodies tensing. You feel something twitch under your thighs, causing a heated blush to spread across your cheeks.
Keigo smiles, wide and brilliant. He cracks his knuckles slowly before reaching up to begin the process of unbuttoning his shirt.
"I love it when you're good for me." He says it to both of you, emitting all the confidence in the world as he strolls closer to your feverish bodies.
You're in for it and you know it, but you're buzzing with anticipation. Ready and willing to be the perfect little gift for your new friend.
This one's a bit all over the place, I'll admit. You rescue a Fae from the battlefield after a fight. He'd injured, but determined to return to his king's side. Unwilling to leave him on his own, you accompany him on his journey.
Content warning for descriptions of battlefields, wars, and injuries
You picked your way across the battlefield, scarf tied around your mouth and nose. No matter how tightly you cinched it, the smell of blood and viscera still made you gag. It was thick in the air, hanging in nearly-visible clouds around you.
There were bodies everywhere. Humans and Fae littered the ground. Your shoes sank into the ground slightly. Red stains covered their sides, soaking into the fabric. You tried very hard not to think about it.
There was no feeling in the world more helpless than the one of standing on a battlefield after the battle. All these people… all these corpses. Husbands and fathers, wives and mothers, children and lovers. All of them were dead and gone and there was nothing you could do to save them.
Something near your foot twitched.
For a moment, you thought it was just a trick of the tears blurring your vision. You went still, staring. The body nearest to you was some sort of Fae. His clothes were too bloody to make out any sort of army affiliation. A set of antlers sprouted from his head and his ears were elongated and floppy, drooping like rabbit ears. The rabbit idea continued down on his legs, which were elongated, fuzzy, and built powerfully.
As if sensing your gaze on him, he gave a little gasp and sucked in a choked breath. A fresh wave of red soaked through his jacket, mingling with the dried blood that was already there.
Alive. This one was alive!
You knelt next to him. “Don’t move.” His eyes opened. They were hazy with pain and blood loss, and a piercing, crystalline blue. One of his hands fumbled for the sword at his waist. You froze, but he was too weak to even draw it. His eyes fluttered shut again.
“Stay still,” you told him, though you weren’t sure he could even hear you. Hurriedly, you slipped your bag from your back and tugged it open. The strips of cloth inside seemed pathetic in comparison to that much blood, but they were all you had. Ignoring the dried blood flaking off under your fingernails, you pulled open the front of his jacket.
Under the coat, his skin was covered in a fine, velvety-soft layer of fur. At least, it would have been velvety soft if it hadn’t been matted with blood. The long cut across his chest still wept blood from a few open areas. You pressed down as many bandages as you could, tying them into place.
The Fae groaned and opened his eyes again. He twisted to look at you, gaze still unfocused. His long, black hair was matted to his face, marring some of his fine features. Despite his circumstances, his face still made your stomach do a little leap. Why were all Fae so damnably attractive?
“I’m going to try to move you,” you told him. He didn’t seem to be registering your words. “It’ll probably hurt, but I need to get you out of here.” Battlefields were breeding grounds for infections. Even the resilient Fae had succumbed to battle-rot and other diseases.
You crouched down, your knees protesting the position. Gritting your teeth, you hooked your arms under his armpits and started to haul.
The Fae made a high, keening noise, so startling that you dropped him. He made a choked noise as he hit the ground, and didn’t move again. For a moment, you were terrified you had killed him, but no, his sides were still moving with his steady breathing.
After a moment, when he did not move again, you bent back down and went back to pulling him. This time, he made no sound. He was as limp as a ragdoll as you hauled him across the battlefield and to your tent.
You could drag him, but there was no way you were lifting his long, lanky form up into a cot. He looked slender, but he must have been pure, corded muscle, because he was heavy as anything. Instead, you spread out a blanket on the floor and tugged him onto it. Moving him had reopened some of his wounds. You could see the fresh blood soaking into his shirt. Hurriedly, you stripped him of his clothes and started padding his wounds with bandages.
He was more injured than you’d thought. There was a massive cut across his chest and more nicks and gashes all over his arms and legs. He was out of it, but his sleep was fitful. Every time you tried to clean off one of his cuts, he would twitch and growl. His eyes even opened once or twice, but they were clouded with pain and unfocused.
Once you were sure that he was in a stable condition, you took his clothes outside and dunked them into the washbasin. You’d left him with a blanket tied around his waist, to preserve his modesty, but you’d needed to completely remove his clothes. Some items had been completely destroyed- they were so caked to his wounds with blood that you had needed to cut them apart to pull them away.
The water in the washbasin slowly grew redder and redder as you washed off the shirt. It had been so thoroughly covered in blood, likely his own and other people’s, that you couldn’t see the color of it anymore. And as the blood washed away, your stomach started to sink.
The shirt wasn’t the deep, midnight-blue of the Sansivore army. It was the bright, emerald-green of the Aerethes.
You took a deep breath and kept scrubbing. He was a member of the Aerethes army. Well, fine. It didn’t matter. You would save his life. Just like all the others.
Once the clothes had been made as clean as you could get them and had been hung up to dry, you returned to your tent. The Fae was still lying there, breathing slowly and evenly. His sleep had gone from something fitful into something deeper, more even. You let out a slow breath. That was a good sign.
You ate dinner and then tipped a little bit of broth in his mouth, carefully encouraging him to swallow. He coughed, sputtering a little, and you lowered the cup. He’d probably gotten enough. He just needed a little, to keep his strength up.
After you finished feeding him, you wrapped him in a blanket, ensured that he was still in stable condition, then went to bed yourself. Despite the aching in your muscles, you were tired enough to fall asleep almost as soon as your head hit your pillow.
You woke to a prickling feeling on the back of your neck, all your senses alert. Something was wrong.
One of your hands stole under your pillow for your knife. It was a small thing, barely more than a scalpel, but that didn’t matter. Precision was more important than size, and you knew exactly where to drive the knife to kill someone in seconds.
Three… two… one! You rolled over, ready for a fight, then froze.
The Fae stood over you. He was enormously tall, balancing on digitigrade feet. You had to crane your neck back to look up into his face. His bright, blue eyes glittered like cold diamonds. His entire body was made up of rippling muscles. He looked like he could tear you limb from limb with little effort. His antlers only served to make him more impressive, like an oversized crown. The effect was a little ruined by the cute, fluffy bunny tail that sprouted from just above his butt.
It was as you looked down at his butt that you realized he was completely naked. The towel was lying behind him, discarded on the floor. Fortunately, his bandages were still attached, and his wounds hadn’t opened up during the night.
“Where am I?” His voice was dry and scratchy from disuse, but hearing him speak at all nearly sent you out of your skin. For some reason, you hadn’t really expected him to speak, much less in perfect English.
“You’re in my tent,” you said, once the burst of shock had worn off. “You should probably sit down. You’re still injured.”
His lips curled and his long, floppy ears twitched. “You are not a healer of the Aerethes army,” he said.
“No, I’m not. But I am a healer, and I need you to sit back down.” There was an unsettling trembling in his legs now, and it was starting to progress upward.
“I need to return. My army needs me. My king. I-” The trembling hit his knees and he wobbled. You darted forward, barely managing to brace yourself against his weight. Heavens above, but he was heavy. He snarled as his wounds were strained.
“Stop struggling!” You lowered him to the ground as gently as you could. He groaned, gritting his teeth. He had little fangs, you noticed. “Lie still. You’ve been injured, and I need to check your wounds for battle rot.”
He stared at you, then, apparently deciding there was nothing else he could do, submitted to your ministrations. You untied the bandages, dribbled cleaning solution into the wounds. He snarled, body flexing. “I know it hurts, I know,” you said, your voice automatically dropping into its most soothing register. “It’ll be all right.”
He snarled again. Even in his prone, injured position, it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “You. Tell me. What. Happened,” he said between flinches of pain.
“I don’t know exactly what happened. There was a battle. You were injured. I rescued you.” He twisted his head toward you, nose twitching.
“You are not a healer for the Aerethes army,” he said after a moment.
“No. I’m…” You paused. There was no official term for what you did, and you weren’t sure which unofficial term he’d know. Not to mention that most of them were unflattering. “I’m here to help.”
He stared at you, gaze growing more suspicious. “I cannot stay here. My people-”
“You are not going anywhere. You can try to leave if you want, but if you make it further than the tent’s entrance, I’ll be stunned. There’s about three severe- hey!”
The Fae rolled over and heaved himself to his feet. He wobbled for a moment before managing to catch himself. He was still naked, you noted, though he didn’t seem to care. Instead he made for the tent entrance.
He made it a grand total of four steps. Which was one more than you’d been betting on, so good for him.
“Are you all right?” you asked. He made an effort to get back up and collapsed again. “Okay. Come on back here.” You took a moment to haul him back onto the blankets. His eyes cracked open and he glared at you. “I did warn you. You’re exhausted. You probably got hit with iron. It’ll take a few days to clear your system.”
The Fae closed his eyes and sighed. “I was hit with iron.” His eyes opened again, this time with clear effort. “I need to… My king…” His eyes closed. “My…”
You waited for a moment, but he didn’t reopen his eyes. His chest rose and fell with stuttering breaths. He looked uncomfortable, but at least he was resting.
Confident that he wasn’t going to get up again, you stepped out of your tent. You cooked yourself breakfast, making a small, extra portion in case he woke up and needed food again. You also boiled off your water and strained it, and spent a few moments checking your medicine stores. You were starting to run low on river root. The army hadn’t traveled by a source of running water any time soon, which was really starting to become a problem. You might have to peel off for a while to replenish everything.
When you walked back into the tent, the Fae was awake again. His bright blue eyes followed you as you put down your supplies.
“How are you feeling?” you asked. It was often hard to tell how sick Fae were at a glance. Pale and gaunt seemed to be their natural state.
He stared.
“Good? Bad?” You crouched in front of him. He stared at you some more, teeth gritted. “I’m trying to help.”
“I do not need your help,” he growled. “I need to return to my king.”
“I’m going to help you do that. But you need to heal first. What good are you to your king if you’re half dead from your wounds?” The Fae’s long ears twitched. He lowered his gaze to the ground. “How are you feeling?”
He took in a deep breath. “I am feeling… tired. Sore. I was struck with iron- it burns in my veins.”
“I don’t know how to treat iron poisoning,” you said. The Fae shrugged.
“It cannot be treated. It must be endured.” He sagged to the ground. “Why are you helping me?”
The question came right out of left field. You rocked back onto your rear. “You needed help.”
The Fae sighed, as if he were talking to someone exceedingly slow. “Yes. But there were many people who needed help. I was not even a member of your army- you are not on the side of the Aerethes, are you?” You shook your head. “I thought not. Your tent is constructed in a different style. And yet, you rescued me. You appear to be trying to save my life. I had considered that you were attempting some method of interrogation, but I fail to see why you would avoid using iron tools or allow me to overcome my own iron poisoning.” He paused for a moment, panting heavily. His chest rose and fell rapidly with obvious exertion.
“I’m not trying to interrogate you,” you said, keeping your voice gentle. “I really did pull you off the battlefield because I wanted to save your life.”
He rolled his gaze back over to you. “Yes, I had surmised as much. So, I ask again: Why?”
You sighed, crossing your legs underneath you. “Do you know what Hippotherinism is?” He gave you a head shake. “It’s… well, a lot of people call it a religion, but I think that’s stretching the truth a little bit. It’s more of a philosophical movement. It comes from the idea that all people should seek to do as little harm as possible and seek to help as many as they can. I’ve been following those principles for years now.”
The Fae stared at you. His gaze was interested, if slightly confused. “What does that have to do with saving me?”
“War is against Hippotherinistic principles. We don’t participate as soldiers and we are forbidden from advocating for it. But when there is a war, we are also compelled to save lives. We aren’t allowed to pick and choose. If there is someone who needs our help, human or Fae or any species, we are compelled to help them. You were the first person I came across in savable condition, so I saved you.”
The Fae stared at you for a long moment, thinking hard. Then he slumped back onto the ground. “You are strange.”
“It’s strange to me that you all spend your time fighting,” you said. The Fae’s eyes opened again.
“I don’t spend my time fighting. I am an advisor to the king,” he said.
You paused, uncertain how to continue without offending him. “But you were fighting. Why else would you be on the battlefield?”
“My king was there. His advisors are also his guards, his allies in battle. If the soldiers fight, the king must fight, and if he fights, we go with him.”
“Well, at least your king fights with you,” you said. “Better than can be said for the Sansivore army.”
He seemed mollified by your compliment. “Yes. If your leader will not fight with you, then they are not fit to lead.” He prodded absently at his wounds, testing them. “To be absent from my king’s side… it is a disgrace. It shows that I am weak. I am sworn to follow the king until my final breath. As I am still breathing, I should be at my king’s side.” He closed his eyes. “But I am not.”
“When you’re healed, you can go back,” you said.
He sighed. “You misunderstand. I have abandoned my position. I am in disgrace.”
You parsed that. Their dignity and position were everything to a Fae. To lose their place in society meant a loss of their identity. “You didn’t abandon it,” you pointed out as gently as you could. “You tried to stay. You were injured in battle.”
“As long as I breathe, I should be at my king’s side. If I was left on the battlefield, I should have died there. I am disgraced, dishonored.”
You sat back on your heels. You had never heard anyone so unhappy at having their life saved. He seemed despondent.
“Can you return?” you asked.
“I must,” he said. “I must, and I will throw myself on the mercy of my king. If he elects to reinstate me, I will spend the rest of my life in gratitude for his kindness. If he does not, the court may kill me.”
You blanched. “The court will what?”
“If the king accepts that I am disgraced, that I have abandoned my position, and with it, my honor, I will have all my rights and positions in the land revoked. I will become one of the nameless, stripped of all that I am. The court will tear me apart and those that kill me will earn fragments of my power or land.”
You stared at him, a hand clamped over your mouth. “That’s terrible.”
“It is a mercy. If I were to become nameless, my life would be nothing. No power, no identity, no position. The king holds my name. Should my failure be so great that he decides to destroy it, I would be dead in all but body. To complete that is merely putting things right.” He gave a few raking coughs, then settled back onto his blanket.
You twisted and untwisted a piece of fabric in your hands. “You said the king has your name?”
“He holds the names of all his advisors.”
You closed your eyes, kneading at one of your temples. Names were important to Fae, both in a cultural and metaphysical sense. If he had willingly given it over to the king, that was a bond beyond anything you could think of. He would never voluntarily give up on going to the king, even if he knew that it meant certain death.
“Okay,” you said, the word coming out in a sigh. “Okay. Fine. I’ll help you.”
The Fae stared at you, ears twitching. “I’m sorry?”
“I’ll help you. Get back to the king, I mean. You’re not in a condition to be traveling on your own, not for a little while longer, at least. But if this is really important to you, then I’ll help you.”
His eyes narrowed and his lips curled up, showing off his short but sharp fangs. “What do you want in return?”
“I don’t want anything. That’s not why I’m doing this. I saved your life, so now I have a responsibility to make sure you’re going to be okay.” He looked at you a little blankly, but didn’t seem keen on protesting.
“You agree that for your service, I will not be indebted to you? Forced into repayment at a later date?” he clarified.
“There’s no terms or conditions,” you said. “I don’t want anything in return for it. If it works, we’ll probably never see each other again. And that’s all right. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
There was a long silence. He stared at you. There was something odd shifting in those crystal-blue eyes of his, but you couldn’t read it. Maybe it was some Fae emotion only they could comprehend. Finally, he shook his head. “Humans are fools. But if you offer this to me, then I will take it.”
“Okay. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning. First things first. Let me take another look at those cuts. I want to set them up so you’re not going to make them worse by moving around. And maybe put some more antiseptic and painkillers on it.”
The Fae lay back and allowed you to poke and prod at his cuts. He twitched as you probed his stomach and chest. Some of the noises were definitely pained ones, but there were a few sighs he made as you moved your hand along his toned stomach that wounded suspiciously like pleasure. You tactfully ignored him. There was no point in embarrassing him.
After you’d finished your examination, you gave him some clothes, which he put on without complaint, despite them being slightly too big for him. He curled up on the ground, back toward you. Despite yourself, your eyes lingered on him, admiring the shape of his body. No. Bad. Bad doctor. You don’t look at your patients like that.
You went to bed and tried very hard not to dream about anything inappropriate. You didn’t quite succeed.
The Fae seemed more alert and active in the morning, but you still refused to allow him to help you take down the tent. “I’ve done it many times before,” you said. Everything you owned could be folded into a bag that was a little more than half your size. You needed to be able to carry all your stuff from spot to spot. It wasn’t easy, but you had developed pretty good muscles from hauling it all around.
“Do you know what direction the army would have headed in?” you asked as you finished lashing the bag to your back.
The Fae fidgeted. “I have a general idea, yes.”
You waved a hand ahead of you. “Then by all means, lead the way.”
The Fae started out ahead of you. He moved with surprisingly fluid strides, despite his injuries, though there was a stutter in his step. You stayed close to him, even if that meant jogging a little. His legs were really long and he had a habit of hopping slightly, like a rabbit.
The pair of you headed northeast. Every now and then, the Fae would pause to sniff at the air or examine some flowers. The markers didn’t mean anything to you, but they seemed to reassure him that you were going in the right direction.
There was something comfortable about traveling with him. He was quiet, but the quiet wasn’t tense. It seemed more like he was appreciating the little sounds of the forest.
As the sun climbed higher into the sky, you noticed him slowing down. He kept putting a hand to his side, fussing with his bandages. “Hey. Sit down a minute.”
He glanced back at you. “I am fine.”
“Uh huh. Then just do it to humor me. I want to take a look. And I want to put more medicine on it so it doesn’t start rotting.”
He bared his fangs, but slumped down against a tree. You crouched next to him, swinging off your bag and rooting through it.
“It will likely take days for us to catch up to them,” he said as you unwrapped the bandages. “They are no longer moving, most likely, but we are much slower than they would have been.”
“Will they stay put for the time it’ll take for us to catch up to them?” you asked. The deepest cut had stopped bleeding and showed no signs of infection. That was good.
“Likely. They usually enchant the location to hide it and settle in.” He gritted his teeth as you dripped medicine into the wound. “Ahh.”
“Sorry. I know it hurts.” He snorted and turned his head away. “You don’t need to act so tough. It’s all right if it hurts. The pain tells you something is wrong and where to fix it.” You patted his shoulder.
The Fae blinked at you. In the sunlight, his blue eyes looked even brighter than before. A strange feeling moved along your spine and gathered in your stomach. You were blushing, you were sure of it. “Everything looks pretty good. I’m glad you’re healing well.”
The Fae pulled himself back to his feet, almost before you had finished securing the bandages again. “We need to keep moving,” he mumbled brusquely, then started padding through the woods again. You slung your bag up onto your shoulders and kept after him.
It was a long day of trekking through the thick undergrowth. The Fae kept ahead of you, but didn’t deliberately leave you behind. Every few moments, he checked behind himself, ensuring you were still there.
By the end of the day, you felt like your lungs were on fire. The Fae seemed perfectly fine, not even bothered. When you settled in a semi-cleared area to start setting up your tent, he glared impatiently. “We should continue.”
“You said they’re not going anywhere,” you said, slumping back against a tree. “We can afford to take a break. And I need some sleep. Humans aren’t as hardy as Fae.”
He hesitated, looking like he was considering continuing without you, then he turned and padded back into the camp.
It took a moment or two to gather the energy to stand back up. Perhaps walking all day had been a bad idea. You weren’t used to trying to keep up with a Fae on foot, and usually you took a more leisurely pace when you were following the army. All of your limbs felt like lead. It was hard to put up a tent with arms that you could barely lift over your head.
The Fae watched as you pulled the tent into place. His gaze was just as inscrutable as ever. It made an odd fluttery feeling start up in your middle again.
By the time you had the fire going, you were almost too tired to move. Thankfully, you had some dried rations. You shoved them toward the Fae. “Here. Eat.”
He opened the bag and started to munch on dried fruit and meat. Judging by his expression, it wasn’t the sort of fare he was used to in the king’s entourage. You slumped on the ground, trying to get up the energy and motivation to actually walk into the tent. Maybe even change your clothes before you fell into bed.
“You are not eating,” the Fae said. You blinked your eyes open. Had you actually fallen asleep for a moment? The Fae was a lot closer to you, practically on top of you.
“No,” you said. “I’m too tired to cook.” A massive yawn punctuated the sentence and proved your words.
The Fae frowned, then held out the bag of rations to you. You pushed them back toward him. “I need to stock up on those, and you need them more than I do.”
He frowned at you. “Humans need to eat.”
“Trust me. I’ve gone longer without food.” You yawned again, stretching your arms over your head. “I’m gonna- hey!”
The Fae dropped the rations on your chest. “Eat.”
“I’ll eat in the morning,” you said. “I just want to sl-hey!”
The Fae shoved you. “Eat.”
You groaned, pushing yourself upright. “I thought I said you should finish it.”
“Humans need food. Fae need less.”
“You’re injured.”
“You are exhausted.” The Fae narrowed his eyes. “Eat!”
He didn’t seem keen on giving up, and it would be faster to just agree with him than to fight until one of you passed out. You munched on the dried fruit and meat for a few minutes. The Fae watched you, ears and tail twitching occasionally.
He didn’t stop watching until you’d finished eating. Once you were done, he lay down, legs curled close to his body. You watched him for a moment longer. He was probably just concerned that you were going to pass out from hunger and possibly delay him. But there had been something in his eyes when he had looked at you. Something close to genuine worry.
That idea made something flutter convulsively in your chest. You swallowed, trying to dampen the feeling. Fuck. Don’t think about your patients like that. With one glance back at the Fae, you crawled into your tent and fell asleep.
You and the Fae set off again early in the morning, soon after the sun had risen. The Fae hung out close to your side. He seemed to be making an effort to stay close to you this time. You couldn’t say you were disappointed by it.
“How long have you been following the army?” the Fae asked. His question was startling. He hadn’t asked you anything out of curiosity, which you had been fine with. Fae weren’t known for appreciating small talk.
“It’s been a couple of years. Before the army, I studied medicine at a hospital. I considered being a medic with the army, but…” You trailed off, shifting your bag on your back. The Fae’s ears pricked slightly.
“But?” he nudged.
“I joined. But they don’t let you help the enemy soldiers. Even the ones that weren’t badly injured. I mean, I get it. They’re the enemy and you don’t want to give them supplies that could be used to heal your own people. But… There was this young man. He was a Fae, I think, but he was young. He looked like a child and he was scared. I had to leave him on the battlefield. I could have saved him. The wound was deep, but survivable. But they told me not to save him. I took another man back, a man with far worse wounds. He died three hours later. And when I went back the next day- the Fae was gone. Battle rot set in. If we had tried, we could have saved him. But we ignored him and he died. And when I looked at his body, something in me broke. I couldn’t be a part of it anymore. So, I left. I can’t save everyone this way. I still have to leave people behind. But at least now I don’t have to just look at people I know I could save and ignore them anyway.”
The Fae stared at you for a long moment. One of his ears ticked. Silence stretched out between you. You could almost hear him grasping for something to say and coming up empty. “Thank you,” he finally said.
You stared at him. “Thank you for what?”
“For bothering to save me,” he said. “There are many humans who would have been consent to save their own army. Many Fae who would do similarly. Yet you took a more difficult path. And because of that, I now live.”
You smiled. “Thought you wanted to die nobly on the battlefield?”
“If I can live and continue to be of service to my king, then I wish to live.” He hesitated for a moment longer. “And your decision to save me was noble. I can’t fault that. You were acting with good intentions and with no regard for yourself. It is something I rarely see. It is… refreshing.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said. The Fae nodded in your direction. His eyes roved over your body for a moment before flicking away, back to surveying the forest.
“It was intended as such.” The walk lapsed back into silence, the only noises being the soft sounds of the forest.
You were distracted a bit by the compliment. You kept replaying it over and over in your mind, rolling the softness of his voice and eyes around in your head.
It was so distracting, as a matter of fact, that, in crossing one of the rivers that flowed throughout the forest, your foot slipped.
If you had been paying attention, you would have tested the rock before you put your whole weight on it. But you weren’t paying attention, you stepped casually onto the rock, and it wobbled under your feet. You heard the Fae shout something as you stumbled and fell into the river.
The water wasn’t deep, but it was shock-cold. Your muscles locked as soon as you were submerged. Your mouth opened to scream and a filthy wave of river water flowed into your mouth.
A hand grabbed you by the scruff of your neck and hauled you back up. The Fae was clinging to you, speaking in a rough voice. He held your soaked body against his chest as you shivered.
The Fae dumped you on the shore and yanked your bag off your back. It was wet, but you hadn’t been in the water long enough for everything to get soaked. The Fae pulled a blanket around you, scrubbing furiously.
You automatically slapped at his hands when he started trying to undress you. He completely ignored you. You were too shocked and cold to fight him off properly, so in minutes, you were stripped down to your underwear. Fortunately, he stopped there.
Shivers rolled through your body. The Fae tugged the blanket more securely around you, trying to dry you off. “Humans are so terribly clumsy,” he complained. “And you are already freezing to the touch.”
“Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled through chattering teeth.
“I am not looking for an apology! Take better care of yourself.” The Fae sat back on his heels and gritted his teeth. His sharp little fangs clicked against each other.
“We can keep moving,” you said. “J-just get me new clothes.” You fumbled for your bag and pulled out your other outfit. Unfortunately, the clothes that had gotten soaked were your heavier outfit. Even with the fresh clothes on, you were still shivering.
The Fae tilted his head to one side. His crystalline eyes glittered with thoughtfulness. He picked the blanket up off the ground and started wrapping it around his shoulders, tying some of the corners together.
As soon as it was secure around him, he scooped your bag up and slipped it onto his back. “I can carry my own stu-” The Fae ignored you, bent down, and picked you up.
You froze. The Fae completely ignored your reaction. He instead tucked you into the blanket around his chest like a sling.
“What are you doing?” you asked. The Fae made a ‘tch’ noise.
“It will be slower if we wait for your to warm up. This will help,” he said. There was something oddly tight in his voice. It was hard to tell through his fur, but you thought you could see him flushing pink. Not that you could blame him. you were pretty sure your own face was on fire.
The Fae took off through the woods. Clearly, he had been slowing down for your benefit before. Each stride seemed to eat up several feet of ground. Your head bobbed against his chest. Even with his speed, you could hear his heartbeat pounding as calm and steady as ever.
Being carried against his chest warmed you up considerably. It reminded you of how long it had been since you had been held by someone. Your chest fluttered. Stop it, stop it, he’s just doing this to be practical. Don’t get all flustered because of it.
The Fae kept running as the sun sank lower in the sky. You nodded off at one point and woke bleary and confused at the tail end of sunset. The Fae had slowed down, moving more delicately through the undergrowth. The foliage was unusually thick and green, and you could see little glowing motes dancing between leaves and branches.
“You were correct,” the Fae said. One of his hands was cradling you, resting right between your shoulder blades. You were distractingly aware of the point of contact. “The entourage did not go far after all.”
You could pick up some strain in his voice. He swayed as he came to a near stop, then leaned against a tree. His breathing was labored.
“Put me down,” you said urgently. The Fae all but dropped you onto the ground. You managed to land mostly upright and hastily got to your feet. “Are you okay?”
“Tired,” he panted. One of his hands moved to his side, where he had been wounded. There was red seeping through the bandages.
“Let me see,” you said. You moved toward him, but he shifted, trying to push you away.
“No. Leave.” The motion made him shudder with pain. You pushed toward him and touched his wound. He made a high, keening noise of pain.
“You opened up the wound again while running. I need to close it again.” You leaned close to his side, prodding at the wound. He groaned, but didn’t push you away again.
“You should go,” he said. “I… I must present myself to my king.”
“Let me clean the wound beforehand,” you said. The Fae swung your bag down from his shoulders and you pulled out a roll of bandages. He allowed you to prod and rebandage the wound. Under his fine fur, he looked terribly pale.
“It’s getting worse,” you said. “Whatever you did while running, you really ripped it back open. You’ll need to-”
The Fae went still under your hands. He took in a shuddering breath. You froze, eyes still fixed on his wound.
“You live.” The voice was harsh, roughly female, but with an edge to it like a blade running along metal. Slowly, you lifted your gaze. A woman with blades curving off her skin stood over you. Her eyes gleamed bright red.
“I live,” the Fae said. He struggled into a full standing position. “I returned.”
The woman smiled. Her teeth were all metallic, sharp as knives. “With a little mortal in tow, I see.”
The Fae shifted his position, trying to put himself between you and her. “The mortal is none of your business.” Under his breath, he hissed, “Run,” to you.
You stayed where you were. “Not until you’re bandaged. I need five minutes.”
“Run!” he snarled at you. The woman shook her head.
“Don’t send the little mortal away! Surely, our king will want to see who brought his loyal courtier back to him.” The woman’s hand curled around your upper arm. You froze. Blood seeped onto your fingers through the bandages.
The Fae gritted his teeth, but he nodded. “Stay close to me,” he murmured to you.
“Got it,” you said. You weren’t moving away from his side, at least not until the bleeding stopped.
Inside the clearing, the trees and undergrowth had shifted to form a sort of natural building. Fae of all shapes and sizes, dressed in wild and ornate fashion, stood all around. In the center of everything, seated on a throne, was who you assumed was the king.
He looked young, younger than you were expecting. He looked barely eighteen, possibly younger. His hair was straw-blond and he had a fair, fine face. The only sign that he was anything more than human were his eyes, which were pitch black, no sclera at all.
He smiled as you approached. “My old friend. How glad I am that you survived.”
The Fae dropped to his knees. “My king. I apologize for abandoning my position. I was poisoned with iron on the battlefield. I expected to die. I was only saved by the mortal here.”
The king tilted his head, observing you. You gave a slight bow. The wound was still bleeding, and you were desperate to get back to it. “The mortal saved your life?” the king said. He smiled. “How interesting.”
“As soon as I was able, I returned to the court,” the Fae said. “I throw myself at your mercy, my king. If you wish it, I will sacrifice myself for you. I expect nothing and will be grateful for-”
“Enough.” The king’s voice was mild, but the Fae fell silent immediately. “Mortal. Is what he says true?”
You took a deep breath. “Yes. I pulled him off the battlefield. I prevented him from dying or returning to you immediately, as he wanted to do. I had no other reason for doing this other than simply wanting to save his life. I expect no favors. I came along only out of concern for his health.”
The king looked at you strangely. “You are telling the truth,” he said. “You want nothing more than to see him well.”
“It is what I believe in,” you said. “If you accept him back into your court, I will leave. You don’t need to give me anything, and I won’t hold anything over your head.”
“And if I don’t?” the king asked. “I assume he told you what would happen if I turned him away?”
You took a deep breath. “Yes, he did. I… well. I doubt I could save him if you decided he should die.”
“You saved him and came here knowing that he may not survive? That you may be in danger as well?” It was hard to read the king’s expression. His tone was completely neutral.
“I followed what I believe to be right. If that leads to my death, then at least I will die nobly.” Your voice was steady, but you could feel your knees shaking. The king tilted his head at you.
“A mortal who does only what their conscience demands. Interesting,” he said. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, a breeze picked up. The trees surrounding the clearing groaned. A shudder moved through the ground. The king lifted his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Hm. Interesting.”
The Fae gripped your calf with one hand. You glanced at him. “You okay?”
“The Queen.” His eyes were wide, frightened. “She is here.”
You looked around, despite not being entirely sure who you were looking for. “Where?”
He gestured widely around you. “Here. Everywhere. She so rarely leaves her kingdom. That’s why she sends the king…”
“What are you talking about?” you asked.
“The Queen is more than any other Fae. She is a part of the world around us. Beneath our feet, in the trees. The king is her consort. He rules only through her favor,” the Fae said hurriedly. His ears were twitching. The hand on your calf tensed and loosened alternately.
The king looked relaxed as he glanced around him. He seemed to be listening to something you couldn’t hear. “Truly? Hm. An interesting idea.” He tapped his fingers along the line of his jaw. “Mortal. The Queen has taken an interest in you.”
The Fae at your side sucked in a sharp breath. It was hard to tell whether it was due to being impressed or being concerned. Having a Fae take in an interest in you could mean anything from grand favors to being recreationally tortured, just to see how you’d react. The hand on your calf was tightening gradually until it started to hurt.
“Has she? I’m flattered,” you said in as neutral a tone as you could manage.
“Yes. She says that among both mortals and Fae, there are few who would stick to their principles so stridently.” The king tilted his head, again listening as the wind picked up. “Mm. Come here.”
He extended a hand toward you, palm up. You stared at it uncertainly. The Fae was still gripping your calf. His face was toward the ground, but what you could make out of his expression was terrified. Whatever the king wanted, it was dangerous.
The only thing more dangerous than accepting a Fae’s offer, though, was potentially offending the Fae. You were cornered. Slowly, you stepped forward, shaking the Fae’s grip off your calf, and took the king’s hand.
Everything faded. Noise became muffled and a faint, gray veil descended over the world around you. It was like you were looking at everything through a thick mist. The only vivid thing in the world was the pulsing form of light that had appeared next to you.
It was shaped vaguely like a woman, with streamers of light trailing off its vague head. The light pulsed in multiple colors, moving from red to yellow to green to blue. It wasn’t bright enough to be blinding, but looking at it head on hurt your eyes after only a few moments.
“You’re the Queen,” you guessed, lowering your head respectfully.
A voice, layered and vaguely feminine, echoed around the area. INDEED. The voice was vaguely amused. I AM GLAD TO SPEAK TO YOU. YOU INTEREST ME.
You licked your lips. “I’m surprised a mortal can hold the interest of one as impressive as you.”
The Queen laughed. NO NEED FOR FLATTERY. I SO RARELY MEET THOSE, MORTAL OR FAE, WHO HAVE PRINCIPLES THEY STICK TO SO RESOLUTELY. TELL ME. WHY DID YOU ACCOMPANY HIM HERE?
“He wanted to return,” you said.
THAT IS WHY HE CAME HERE, YES. BUT I ASKED WHY YOU CAME WITH HIM. SURELY YOU KNOW THAT A MORTAL APPROACHING A FAE COURT IS DANGEROUS? YOU COULD HAVE WASHED YOUR HANDS OF HIM AND NO ONE WOULD THINK YOU A POOR HEALER.
You hesitated. “His wounds. I couldn’t leave him. I needed to make sure he would make it back here.”
YES. I SURMISED YOU WERE FOLLOWING TO PROTECT HIM. BUT WHY?
You paused again. “Because I saved his life. He told me I should have left him to die. I saved him, so I needed to make sure he was going to be okay. A healer’s job isn’t just done when the physical wounds are healed. I needed to make sure he was going to be able to survive on his own. And if I didn’t help him, there was every chance he would have died.” You lifted your chin, looking in the vague location of the light’s face. “If I save his life, I am responsible for protecting it.”
INDEED. The Queen sounded pleased by your answer, though her echoing, pulsing voice made it hard to tell. THEN MY DECISION IS MADE.
“What deci-” The fog retreated and you were suddenly blinking into the king’s face. He smiled placidly and released your hand.
“The Queen has decreed it,” he said. “And I concur. Mortal. In saving his life, you have proven yourself worthy of ownership of it. I grant you his name, his land, and his titles.”
You blinked again. Very suddenly, with no idea how you knew, you knew the Fae’s name. You turned to look at him. He was staring back at you, looking bewildered.
“I thank you for the years in my service, old friend,” the king said. “When the mortal has passed on and your name is your own, you may return. I look forward to seeing you again.” He waved his hand. “Now, go. Leave.”
You were vaguely aware of being marched away by armed guards. Mostly, you were just looking at the Fae, who was staring back at you with a similarly lost expression.
The guards left when you were a sufficient distance from the king, melting back into the trees. Only then did you feel comfortable to turn to the Fae. “What just happened?”
“He gave you my name,” the Fae said, clearly still processing everything. “My life is yours. My land, my title… Should you wish for it, they are all yours.”
You opened and closed your mouth a few times. “I don’t want it,” you finally said. “Can I just… give it back to you?”
The Fae frowned. “No. The Queen herself decreed it. To give it away would be a terrible insult. I wouldn’t accept it, and even if you managed to return my name, you would be a disgrace to the Fae Court and hunted for the insult.”
You huffed. “Then what am I supposed to do with it?”
The Fae knelt, head facing toward the dirt. “My life is bound to yours now. I am your humble servant, as I was to the king. If you wish it, I will take you to my lands. You can live there pampered and sheltered. I will care for all aspects of ownership. You will merely live in peace, as the guardian of my name and the owner of my life.”
You pursed your lips. “Yeah, I don’t want that.” The Fae’s mouth twitched, a kind of amused smile, like he had known what you were going to say, but was pleased by the answer nonetheless.
“Then what is it that you want?” he asked.
“I want to keep helping people,” you said. “To continue my work. And I don’t want someone bound to me through servitude and an ownership over life. You’re not property. You’re a person.” You took a breath and looked up into his face, into his crystalline eyes. “What do you want?”
“I-” He paused, then pressed his lips together, as if uncertain himself. “I want,” he began again, haltingly. “I think I want… to learn. The Queen was right. You are fascinating. Even if I were not bound to you, I think there would be a part of me that would remain so. I would like to learn from you. See the world as you see it. Learn to value things as you do. If that would be amenable to you?”
Somehow, despite being taller, he gave them impression of looking up at you from under his lashes. It was a remarkably shy expression, and one that fluttered all throughout your chest before settling as a warm glow behind your heart. “All right then, Sarscillis. I think we can make that work.” You held your hand out toward him. Slowly, his rough palm met yours.
Sarscillis smiled at you. “I look forward to learning from you. And to being with you.” His smiled widened. “Even if you returned my name, I think I would have followed you. And I shall follow you still.”
“I know it was probably scary last time, but stand in the circle, sweetness. Put your shoes and jacket on that chair first..” Dabi’s hand produced a blue flame which he used to light several candles around the room, illuminating it enough for you to see the circle, several chairs scattered around the room, along with boxes and a ton of cobwebs. You did as instructed, shivering as you draped your coat over the arm of a plush armchair and slid your boots under it. Dabi placed a hand on your back,
“Good girl,” he praised, “Now just wait right there, I have to leave the room so the summoning can happen. Seriously, don’t talk to him, okay?” You nodded, but he gripped your face and stared you down, “I mean it. Don’t talk to him until I say or I’ll spank your cute little ass so hard you won’t be able to sit right for the next century. Got it?” You nodded frantically and his hold lessened as he pressed a light kiss to your lips before giving your head a pat and exiting the room, leaving you alone in mostly darkness.
You shuffled your stocking-clad feet nervously, wringing your hands and shaking in the cold. When you felt the demon materialize in front of you, you pressed your mouth into a hard line. You didn’t even look up, staring down at the newly appeared being’s legs and trying to avoid glancing up any further.
The door opened and Dabi lit several more candles, giving you a reassuring wink as you watched him, eyes still wide and hands clasped tightly together. When he was done he approached and you turned to look at him, facing away from the new demon. His eyes darted up for a second and settled on you again, giving you a little smile.
“Perfect. You can speak. It’s all done,” he ruffled your hair, watching with an amused expression as realization clouded your expression.
“If it’s done then-” you screamed as pale arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back against the bare chest of the demon.
“Fuck, Tomura, don’t scare her to death,” Dabi said, pulling you out of the stranger’s arms and into his. You immediately clung to him, burying your face in his chest and locking your arms tightly around his waist. You heard raspy laughing behind you and held Dabi tighter. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and his other hand pulled his friend in close.
You looked up to see Tomura pecked his lips and mutter thanks under his breath before turning his attention back to you, tracing his fingers lightly along your back for a moment.
“You’re fine, little sacrifice. Say hi,” he gently pried your arms off him and spun you to face the other demon. Tomura was roughly the same height and build as Dabi, but no discolored skin. The area around his eyes was a little marred and his lips looked chapped, but his long, unkempt hair was what drew your attention. That is, until your eyes glanced lower before you could stop them and you got an eyefull of the monster between his legs.
All the blood in your body rushed to your face as your eyes shot up to stare at the ceiling, trying to purge the image from your mind. Bigger than Dabi, and that had felt like it might tear you in half. Tomura’s looked like it would ruin you.
He leaned in closer until his face was only a few centimeters from yours and smiled creepily at you. The expression made your thighs clench and your body shrink back against Dabi.
“Lucky asshole,” Tomura rasped, looking up at him but staying close to you, “My last sacrifice was an infant. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that? And I still had to fulfill my end of the deal. Bullshit,” he sneered, bringing his red gaze back to your scared, flustered expression.
“Pretty, right? Sweet, too. And a dumb little thing. Fucked up the ritual by talking to me, let me carry her off with no struggle, willingly let me mark her up, and does whatever I say. If I told her to drop her panties and give them to you, she’d do it. Isn’t that right, sweetness?” Cyan eyes bore into you and your face burned, but you nodded at him anyway. A smirk crept over his face and he gave you a nod, tapping your hip and stroking your hair.
“Fucking up the ritual doesn’t normally make them dumb and pliant,” he rasped, “you must have traumatized her or something. Not that I care,” He paused briefly, looking you up and down, “You’re gonna share, right? You owe me. You owe me a lot more than a pair of panties,” he watched you reach under your skirt and pull the lacy white fabric down, a fresh little wet spot visible on them. Tomura licked his lips, “I do want them, though,” he snatched them from you as soon as you held them out, inhaling your scent deeply and letting his eyes roll back.
“Yeah, I’m sharing. Looks like she likes you, too,” Dabi muttered, his hand slipped under the back of your dress and swiped up through your wet folds. He licked his finger clean before nudging you towards Tomura and pulling away from you to shuffle through some boxes at the other end of the room. You were left face to face with the new demon, who was still naked and still sniffing your panties.
“Gonna share with Kei?” Tomura asked, voice muffled from the fabric shoved against his face. Dabi shot him a look and he rolled his eyes, dropping your underwear and leaning in, “I want to kiss you,” he said bluntly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you so your chests were touching. You didn’t get to respond.
His tongue, longer than Dabi’s but not split like his, jutted out as he licked along your jaw. Your mouth opened in a gasp and he slipped it past your lips, closing the distance after and kissing you harshly. Your eyes fluttered shut as your head spun, arms wrapping around Tomura’s neck for support. He held you up easily, sliding his tongue around inside your mouth and down your throat, moaning when you gagged on it and trying to go deeper.
Drool spilled down your chin, dripping onto you both with a quiet tap as his hands moved from the small of your back down to your ass, cupping your flesh and lifting you. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his fingers kneaded at your plush cheeks and thighs, and you felt his heavy, mildly terrifying cock stirring to life just under you. His clawed hands gripped too hard at your already sore thighs, breaking skin and making you whimper against his lips.
“Dude, wait until we’re in a pocket. Someone hears her screaming here, this location is fucked,” Dabi scolded him, still shuffling through boxes. Tomura grunted into your mouth, setting you down and breaking off the kiss, leaving you panting and flushed. Strings of saliva connected you, and you wiped off your face on your sleeve. He let you lean against him, humming contently as he pet your hair and gave you a squeeze, pressing his erection against you. He inhaled deeply,
“You’re so soft,” he muttered, rocking his hips a little, “smell so good…”
“Don’t jizz on her here,” Dabi pulled him off you, wrapping an arm around each of you. He kissed Tomura again and pushed him off toward some clothes he’d gotten out before turning his attention to you, tilting your chin up and kissing you softly before setting you in the chair your stuff had been on. He slipped your feet back into your boots and laced them before setting you on your feet and trying to fix the mess his friend had made of your clothes and hair.
Tomura scoffed, stuffing his hard, leaking cock into a pair of pants,
“Do you spoon feed her, too?” He taunted, zipping and buttoning himself away. You pursed your lips slightly as Dabi wrapped your coat around you and adjusted it.
“That’s why your sacrifices always die,” he laughed, “you forget to feed them and take care of them,” once satisfied with your clothes, he gave you a pat on the head and sat down, pulling you into his lap.
“That was literally three centuries ago,” Tomura argued, pulling on shoes and tying his long hair back, “And I didn’t like that one anyway. The deal wasn’t worth it,” Dabi shook his head when you shot him a questioning look. You settled against him, turning sideways in his lap to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck. Tomura joined you both, sitting on the arm of the chair and fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt,
“Is she always that clingy?” he gave your arm a poke and you gave it to him, holding his hand but keeping your face nestled against discolored, rough skin. Dabi shrugged,
“Since I’ve had her. She just kind of lets me do whatever, all she wants is affection, hm?” he bounced you slightly, sighing when you kissed his neck. You sincerely couldn’t explain why, but you were drawn to him, he made you feel safer than you ever had. You liked the other one, too, but he made you a little nervous. You gave his hand a little squeeze.
“She’s like a little girl or something. Are you sure you didn’t break her or some shit?” Tomura gave your hand a tug, pulling your face off Dabi and closer to him, inspecting your eternally flustered expression, “None of mine are ever like this.”
Dabi scoffed, “You probably scare yours, you made y/n scream.” Tomura smirked at him,
“You haven’t made her scream?” he taunted.
“I’ll make you both scream,” Dabi shot back, gripping Tomura’s ponytail and jerking him forward, pressing his lips to his. You watched with wide eyes, squirming a little as you felt heat building between your legs from the display.
Their kiss broke, Dabi leaning back into the chair with a laugh,
“That do something for you, little sacrifice?” You looked away, pursing your lips as he trailed a finger down your cheek. You heard Tomura mutter, “cute,” under his breath as his fingers slipped under your dress. Dabi swatted him away,
“Wanna touch,” he argued, trying to bypass the other demon’s hand.
“Knock it off. She needs food and I need to get her more clothes. Here,” he placed a light smack to Tomura’s thigh and both men stood, Dabi helping you off his lap and placing your hand in his friend’s.
“Get her food and text when you’re done. We can meet up and get her settled into the pocket,” he pulled a phone from his pocket and stuffed it in one of Tomura’s, “Have fun on your date,” he winked, kissing Tomura first and then you, smoothing your clothes one more time and wiping something off your face.
“Wait, you already picked a pocket for her? I’m gonna have to stay there too, it better be nice,” You stared up at Tomura as Dabi waved off his question, blowing out the candles around the room.
“Are you going to live with me?” You asked, clinging to his arm as the room slowly darkened.
“Sometimes. Between all three of us you’ll have someone with you pretty much all the time probably,” he scratched at his neck, shrugging as Dabi glared at him again.
“Three? Is that Kei?” Dabi winced as the name fell from your lips, blowing out the last of the candles and leaving the three of you in the dark.
“Don’t worry about him, but yeah. We’ll deal with that in a day or two,” a hand ruffled your hair, “Can’t do too many rituals so close together. It’ll overwhelm your puny little body. I’m not the only reason you’re sore and worn out,” you felt him kiss your head and steps walking off. The sound of a door opening, and he was gone.
