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nine-of-words · 4 months

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Out in the Cold (Part Two)

M Orc x M Troll (Hulder) Reader

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Wordcount: 3473

Content Warnings: Emetophobia (Brief Mention of Vomiting)

I’ve been snowed in today, so it seems very fitting to post more of this story now :)

You’re not afraid to admit it; self control has never been your strong suit.

And in a way much reflective of your nature, you’ve completely lost steam. Relaxing as much as you can on the uncomfortable rock you’re sitting on, you fondly think back on the day you came here last winter, while chewing on more of your meager rations than you should. It’s hard not to feel nostalgic, even with the frankly pathetic way you ended up on the settlement’s doorstep.

They still took you in, even when they didn’t have to- and now you have a full year’s worth of memories of the orcs you’ve lived amongst.

…You suppose those memories will always be twinged with a more bittersweet quality, from now on.

You’ll have to learn to live with it…

It’s not like you need them, anyway, you try to convince yourself. It’s gotten harder to do that now- after everything that’s happened- than when you first arrived, that’s for sure.

You're knocked from your thoughts by the reverberating sound of a hunting horn in the distance, carried even over all the ground you've covered because of the thick blanket of snow.

"Dammit-" You curse and scramble from your seat at once, then haphazardly shove your remaining travel provisions back into your pack.

Your daydreaming got out of hand, and now your headstart is spent. The orc hunting party will be on your tail any moment now, with strides much bigger than yours. You take off once again, footsteps nearly silent as you dash through the snowy woods.

Over the next few hours, your inescapable streak of bad luck rears its inevitable head.

That tree looks familiar. And you’re pretty sure you've seen that configuration of rocks recently…

You brush it off as nerves, at first. You’re just getting into your own head. You know where you’re going- after all, you did have the brilliant foresight to pack a map and a compass, to combat your unfortunately lacking sense of direction.

…Until you come across a set of tracks in the snow.

There's no way they caught up already, let alone lapped me!

Taking a closer look, they're definitely from boots. Petite ones.

Not an orc’s, for sure. Who else would be out here? This isn’t good hunting weather… Out of curiosity, you line up your own boot next to one of the tracks.

…It’s a perfect match.

You… have managed to come across your own tracks in the snow.

Oh no. No, no, no- Not again-

You dig in your pack, looking for your compass and map.

…Which are not there.

A pit of despair knots in your stomach. You must’ve left it behind on the rock you were resting on earlier, after the sound of the horn spooked you.

Then it dawns on you - not only are you lost, you haven't even attempted to cover your tracks.

Your palm meets your forehead in irritation with yourself. You let out a long sigh, your fluffy tail swishing violently.

This was supposed to be simple. You planned your exit strategy for weeks.

And yet you’ve already managed to screw it up this bad.

Why is it always like this?

Why are you always so unlucky?

The Spirits must really have it out for you…

LAST WINTER

“Here’s your package, granny.” You say in the most charming voice you can muster as you approach. “You look absolutely radiant today, I might add.”

Since you’re a newcomer to the tribe without skill in an applicable trade, for the last few weeks you’ve been here, you’ve been doing general odd-jobs. Some other orcs do this sort of work as well for various reasons, but it seems to be where everybody starts, outsiders included. You tend to favor the delivery jobs; you’ve always been quick, and they’re hard to mess up too badly.

“Oh stop, you’re such a sweetheart.” The elderly orc stops her work at the loom and stretches her leathery green hands out to take the bundle. She pauses when she sees the label, though, and immediately bursts out in raucous laughter.

“What’s the matter?” You ask, your soft, pointed ears flattening back against your head in dread.

“Hahah- Oh no, little one, that package is for the other Ghorza. Ghorza Gog-Burzog. The one that lives by the mill? It says right here…” She taps the text with her fingertip.

You swear internally as you make your way back across the entire settlement. Though the orcs here speak the universal tongue for the most part, all of their writing is in the Orcish alphabet, and while you’ve started to recognize some of it, you haven’t fully gotten the hang of reading it yet.

At least granny gave you a jar of her winter berry preserves to take home with you for your trouble.

This is not the first time this has happened today. What should’ve been a morning chore has taken you into the late afternoon. By the time the other Ghorza gets her package and you head back to the middle of the settlement, the sun is starting to paint the horizon with streaks of red, mocking you.

Maybe he’ll not be here and I can just… pick a quick, easy task from the board to finish before sundown. That way, I'll still make the job quota for today…

You cringe as you walk into the vestibule leading to the great hall, and are unable to miss Torg’s looming presence sitting in his attached office, the door propped wide open. You attempt to pass unnoticed by the open door, towards the job board posted right beside it, utilizing all of your skill in stealth trained over years of being an accomplished thief, to try to save yourself the misery.

Then he says your name, and you cringe, cursing internally before slinking back into view of the doorway.

It’s not that he’s rude or cruel to you, but he’s just so damn observant. You can barely do a task, it seems like, without him showing up to check on you. Half the time you’re surprised he’s not still watching you like a hawk while you sleep at night in your singles’ dormitory bunk- criticizing your method and ready to give terse advice on how to get better rest.

It’s like he’s just waiting for you to screw up. And when you do, because it is a question of when and not if- he’s right there to witness your incompetence and correct you.

“Where have you been?” Torg says gruffly, not looking up from the papers laid out in front of him. “It’s nearly evening.”

“There were… some complications.” You rub your neck.

“Got lost again, then?” If you didn’t know any better from his weary, disappointed tone, you could swear you see the edge of his lip twitch in amusement around his tusk.

“No!” You let out an exasperated sigh. "Simply a minor mix up. Don't you worry, I came back to take another job before the day's out. I’m not trying to slack."

"No need." He rises out of his chair, tidying up the papers a bit as he does. "I have a job you can help me with instead."

“What would that be?”

“Wort and I had kitchen duty for dinner tonight, but Wort sprained his ankle on a tree root earlier and can’t put weight on it for now. You will be joining me instead, so Cook doesn’t have to work on one of his nights off.”

“Er… I can’t say I have much experience cooking, but I’ll do my best.”

“Great. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

It doesn’t take long before you’ve arrived in the kitchen, washed up and donned aprons.

Yours, of course, hangs halfway down your stomach, because this apron is designed for Orcish proportions.

“Here.” Torg shakes his head with a sigh, motioning for you to come to him. “Turn around. I’ll shorten it.”

You comply and turn your back to him, and you feel his hands start tying the neck strap into a knot at the midpoint.

You barely manage to keep from audibly gulping in fear. This man could squash you like a bug with minimal effort, and you’re showing him the bare nape of your neck, completely defenseless. You would be shuddering in fear, but his fingers are surprisingly gentle against your skin as they work the fabric into a knot.

It’s sickeningly anxiety-inducing and oddly intimate- and then it’s over just like that.

“There you go.” He nods, then ducks into the pantry. He returns in a few moments, coming over with a huge basket of various tubers and leafy greens under his arm.

“Since you said you don’t have much experience, we’re going to keep things simple: Winter Root Stew.” He places the basket down with a soft thump. “How comfortable are you with using a knife?”

“I know my way around one.” Sure, you’re more used to cutting purse strings with them and not vegetables… But he doesn’t need to know that, right?

“Good. You’re going to peel and cut these, and then put them in the cauldron. Greens get washed and then go in later. Easy. I’ll be cooking the game that the hunters brought in earlier, if you need help.”

Work goes surprisingly fast, and your deft hands are soon slinging cut root vegetables into the bubbling bone stock at a snappy pace. In fact, things go so smoothly that you are surprised you've managed to complete the task without any unlucky hiccups.

When you've finished, you're drawn to the other side of the kitchen by the sound of sizzling fat and the scent and browning meat. Torg is there, tending to a large, open oven.

"That smell is heavenly."

Torg grunts in agreement, strong arms working to stoke the burning logs underneath.

The food here has been surprisingly good, especially after having it conditioned into you growing up in a more civilized town that Orcish cuisine surely must all be grey slop. It's definitely heavier than standard faire, but you've found that it has its own rustic charm- with its rich flavors, game meat, and tendency towards rib-sticking density- that's begun to grow on you.

“Venison. A few late winter fowl as well."

"Damn, who doesn't love a man who can cook…?" You sigh.

Torg is oddly silent for a moment before letting out a small chuff of a laugh, then promptly changing the subject.

"Did you season the stew yet?" He brushes off your flattery with a wry smile.

"Ah, no I have not. What should I use?"

"Mostly salt. But some basic herbs and spices will be good enough." He points out the jars on the shelf to use and dictates what quantities, slowly and deliberately, since you can't fully read their labels yet.

"Okay, got it."

You confidently return to the prep area, mentally repeating a mantra of the ingredients and their amounts. You manage to collect most of the bottles just based on your sharp memory, until you come across the last needed ingredient. Two apparently identical versions of the same bottle sit side by side, even the labels looking nearly identical.

Urgh, which one is the ground mustard seed? They look the same…

Maybe there’s two bottles of it?

You chew your lip in thought, looking at the script on the bottle labels. The squiggles might as well be chicken scratch to you.

You peek back at Torg. He’s completely engrossed in basting the meat, with his back turned to you.

You don’t want to bother him. You want to stay on his good side to keep your cover and not get kicked out before you’ve finished your job. But strangely, you also are beginning to harbor a strong desire to prove that you’re competent.

…Wait, it’s definitely this one. I recognize that letter!

You take the cap off and take a whiff. The familiar, pungent, biting scent fills you with confidence.

Yep! That’s mustard alright!

Now, how much did he say again…?

You can’t recall. So, you unceremoniously dump an enormous amount of each seasoning into the cauldron.

The more flavor the better, right? Plus, this is a huge pot…!

When you’re done, you help Torg with a few other easy tasks while everything finishes cooking. By the time the stew has had enough time to boil and meld together for a while, Torg is pulling the meat out to rest before slicing.

He walks over to the cauldron to taste a small spoonful of the liquid.

Why are you suddenly filled with anxiety? It’s just vegetable stew, and you’re not even a real cook… But you find yourself dangling on a ledge waiting for his reaction.

“Hmgh-” He winces slightly, one bottom eyelid twitching, but quickly covers it with a small, tusky smile. “A little over seasoned- but not bad at all.”

“Really?” Your voice perks up.

“Yes. You did a good job.”

“...Thanks.” You can’t stop yourself from beaming.

Why is a bit of simple praise over such a menial task making you feel so happy…? Sure, you don’t exactly get praised that often, but still… You don’t need it…

You’re just here to do a job, you remind yourself. Once you figure out where the artifact you’ve been sent here for is, it’s the simple matter of getting your hands on it and getting out cleanly.

You don’t need to care about approval from any of these brutes in the least…

“Well then, let’s get this stuff out to be served.” Torg grabs the handle of the cauldron with both hands, lifting the heavy wrought iron vessel with barely any exertion besides a rough grunt. You’re nearly caught up contemplating the easy show of raw physical strength, before Torg’s instruction snaps you back to attention. “Grab some of the bread baskets and follow me.”

You comply, and soon you’re set up methodically ladling hot stew out of the cauldron and into the waiting wooden bowls of hungry orcs queued in the grub line.

This is… almost kind of nice?

No one is looking at you with pitying looks as you make another mistake or struggle to complete a task. Just a nod, maybe an appreciative grunt or mono-syllabic expression of approval, before they move on.

You can’t help but feel a pleasant, calm focus, and a boost to your self-esteem as you work through the line, working to the sounds of the lively dining hall.

Unfortunately, the peaceful sense of accomplishment is tragically short lived.

Suddenly, the good cheer of mealtime is disrupted as a loud tremor of havoc winds through the dining hall. Wooden chairs and benches and tables scrape loudly, some overturning and falling to the floor, though that’s barely audible over all of the booming voices yelling.

You’ve not really witnessed any brawling yet, despite being told to expect it; that orcs are violent and dole out black eyes and rip off earlobes with their teeth like it’s nothing, over the smallest of disputes.

This doesn’t seem like a brawl, though.

Torg swiftly leaves the serving line, immediately parting the crowd to get to the heart of the issue. You watch as a few different orcs are dragged outside by others, into the snow.

“Nothing else served!” One of the other orcs on the serving line barks after convening with someone that’s run over to them from closer to the commotion. You let the ladle rest on the edge of the cauldron, a sinking feeling from your throat to the pit of your stomach.

That’s how you find yourself sitting on a stool in the kitchen hours later, your hands bound with scratchy cord and two gruff, irritated looking orc guards watching you closely.

Not long after, the huge, seething Chieftain returns to interrogate you.

“What kind of poison was it?!” He roars as he storms into the room with a bang, the door threatening to explode off the hinges behind him.

“P-Poison?!” You barely squeak out. You shield your face with your hands, if only to dampen the larger man’s thunderous volume.

“Don’t play dumb! Everyone who had a serving of the stew you made fell violently ill within minutes!” He gestures widely towards the door to the dining hall.

“I didn’t poison anyone! I wouldn't- !”

Poison has never been your style…

“Then explain! ” He snarls, nostrils flaring and teeth fully bared in anger. “What did you put in that stew?!”

Despite the yelling, you feel strangely safe. You don’t think this is going to get physical. You’ve never seen Torg get violent with anyone, and if anything, he seems to be struggling to keep his loud, expressive rage reeled back.

Moreover, during the interrogations you’ve endured at the hands of other authority figures in the past… the beating usually would’ve already started a while ago, if it was going to happen.

“N-Nothing, except what you told me to!” You whimper, quickly rattling off the list of spices you memorized like an incantation. “Salt, Pepper, Paprika, Dill, Mustard Seed-“

Torg turns, and his eyes scour the shelves of spices as you list off items. His hand hovers above the bottle of mustard seed, and after a moment of thought, he grabs both it, and the bottle beside it.

He brings them over, presenting both of the bottles to you. You lower your hands slightly to look at them.

“Tell me,” He says your name grimly, and takes a deep breath before asking his next question, voice still dripping with barely restrained rage. “Which of these is mustard seed?”

“That one.” You point to the bottle you used with your bound hands.

His shoulder jerks as if he’s about to fling the bottle to smash against the wall, but he apparently resists the urge, setting the bottle on the counter instead and releasing his white-knuckled grip on the lid.

“This is not mustard seed. It is bellow-seed.” He says through gritted teeth.

“Bellow-seed?”

“A spice made from a plant in the mustard family. Not a poison.” A bit of relief is clear in his voice and body language despite the clear vestiges of rage still burning inside. “But in large quantities, it is a powerful emetic.”

You look at him blankly.

“It makes you empty your stomach.” He speaks slowly, forcefully annunciating each word. “Violently.”

“Oh, I’m… I’m so sorry.” You say weakly. “I- They were just right next to each other and I couldn’t read the label, but it smelled like mustard, so-”

“If you were unsure, you should have asked! I was right there!” He growls, his large palm finds the side of his head in disdain. “I told you to ask for help.”

You don’t have an answer for that, besides your inflated sense of ego and wanting to avoid your own embarrassment. You simply sit there pitifully, soft feline ears swiveled back in shame.

After a few moments of you failing to come up with an answer or excuse, Torg pinches his glabella and lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“...Did you do this on purpose?” He finally asks.

“No.” You look him directly in the eye and say with conviction.

Torg nods, then undoes the ropes holding your wrists together himself in tense silence.

“Is… everyone going to be okay?” You ask tentatively and rub the indentation on your wrist, the guilt of your mistake already eating at your conscience.

“You- go to tell Shaman-” He ignores your question and gives one of the guards orders, then the other. “And you, take him home. He stays there until morning, until his story is confirmed.”

You’re pulled to your feet, then lead back towards the dormitory. As you trudge through the snow, you can’t shake the feeling of guilt. It follows you all the way back to your dormitory, and weighs on your chest as you’re finally in bed for the night, tossing and turning.

What’s your punishment going to be? Surely, nothing good. And sure, your cover didn’t get blown yet, but they still might exile you for putting people in danger, and you wouldn’t be able to finish the job-

What’s your guildmaster going to do when word gets back that you ruined the one chance to do the job? Fritz has never been the most understanding when it comes to failure.

You suppose you could just go on the run if you fail, but… you have a feeling that messing up such a big job will earn you a grudge, and he has a well-earned reputation for not letting those go. You doubt you’d get very far without the past coming back to haunt you.

You heave a sigh.

More importantly… What if you really hurt someone with your seasoning mishap? Usually the only one paying for your mistakes is you…

You don’t sleep well that night.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

#exophilia #monster lover #monster romance #monster x reader #orc x reader #orc #male reader #male monster #troll reader #mlm #mxm #male x male #oc: reyr #oc: torg #series: out in the cold #nine of words

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rvnwtch · 1 year

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Tagged by @simping-master-69.

1 Nickname: Mo

2 Height: None of your business but know this: I am tall. So tall in fact, I use clouds as seat cushions. That kind of tall 🥰

3 Sign: A No Parking Sign (It's supposed to be star sign but I’m secretive about my birthday. But I will tell you this. I’ve had a birthday since I started uploading fics.)

4 Last Google Search: 20 divided by 96 (figuring out what percent of Fenn fics I’ve written on Ao3. It’s... 20.)

5 Song Stuck in my head: Down by the Water by Ocie Elliott

6 Number of followers: 52 (How did you all get here?)

7 Amount of sleep: The goal is 8 or more, unless you want zombie Mo (You don’t) however every night I am subjected to the ✨ h o r r o r s ✨ , so it’s more like five total with many interruptions.

8 Dream job: I still don’t know. But I know I want to write books and stock libraries with them so everyone has access to my stories.(I never want anyone to be able to take my stories away from you guys. Fic or hand held original stories!)

9 Wearing: T-shirt and soft pants (I don’t fuckin know, I’m not a fashion type of person. but they definitely aren’t leggings). Usually long sleeves and lots of hoodies

10 Movie/book that summarizes you: I don’t know that’s such a specific question??

11 Aesthetic: I’ve never had one simple aesthetic. Not to sound like I’m being “quirky” or whatever, but I’m too many things to fit into one category. (I don’t fit “soft”. My humor and curse word laden speech won’t allow it). Probably something cozy though. Like long sleeves, curled up with books and candles type of thing. When I googled that “hygge” came up. And from doing absolutely zero research beyond clicking Images I guess it’s pretty close. Idk, I’m just some guy.

12 Favorite authors: This time I’m not being intentionally cryptic, i don’t know. I feel like I’m in that phase where I’m trying to figure out what I like again. O recently had the horrible realization that all of my favorite books suck and did not hold up from recent years. So... yeah. Low-key devastating. If I find something good though, I will be sure to recommend it.

13 Favorite song: Whatever comes up on my recently listened to?? Music is really personal to me and I don’t like to share. But it also changes based on what I’m writing but I typically pick out lo-fi for that because it’s quiet and has no words. I like “Visions” by Lo-Fi Luke. The song “Iced Tea for Breakfast” by In love With a Ghost is also good.

14 Favorite instrument: Whatever lo-fi has going on in it. (Better answer, Mo tried to learn guitar many years ago and was a fast learner. Only I gave up after a year because I was so anxious about starting high school.)

15 Random Fact: My favorite color is grey! You can argue all you want but it is a color and it does count!

Tagging (if your’e interested!): @tilliphont @daffodil-the-clown and @siriskulksnerding

#tag game

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dreamwreaver · 2 years

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Hey, I know you’re probably not in the fandom anymore but I really, really need you to know just how amazing you are. Since I got into the beetlejuice fandom recently I came across your works on ao3 and I actually genuinely will never be the same again. Yes, there are others who write beetlebabes, but your works are somehow so unique, the tone and setting of your fanfics is something I fail to find in other fanfics and the way write both Lydia and Beetlejuice seems so human, so vivid, something about it makes it so easy to slip yourselves into either of their shoes, feel whatever they’re feeling, and it’s such an amazing thing you’ve done. You have no idea how many nights I’ve stayed up till 5am squealing at your fanfics because the sexual tension and everything else seemed so tangible, it made me feel so many things I can’t even begin to explain.

I’m the type of fanfic consumer who writes what they can’t find and since I’ve finished just about all your works in Beetlejuice, I’ve tried to write my own fanfics for Beetlejuice but for the first time, for some reason it’s hard to write what I want to while keeping in line with what I think Lydia’s and Beetlejuice’s reactions would be to the situations I put them in, does that make sense? And I go back to your fanfics to try and get an idea of what I want out of my works, and I’m still working on it to this day.

But anyway, I just wanted to gush about how amazing your works have been, and I know you’re probably not into Beetlejuice anymore, but I just want you to know you’ve changed me through your fanfics, it’s become part of my daily routine and I just thought you ought to know how talented you are as a writer. I have never been this invested in anyone’s fanfics before, which is why it’s special to me and why I really wanted to write this to you to thank you. I don’t expect you to write for beetlejuice anymore or anything like that, I just really, really wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I’m into Hazbin Hotel too, if you ever wanna talk about other things. Once again, I love you, and thank you for writing so many works in Beetlejuice to keep me going. You have no idea how much it means to me. If you ever need me or wanna keep in touch, reply to this, I’ll be following your posts <3

Oh man, where do I begin to respond to this? I'm gonna be honest Nonny, I was fighting back tears and had a huge grin while reading this. And this is also why it's been sitting in my inbox. I wanted to give this ask the care and consideration you obviously gave me while writing this. I suppose the most simple thing to say is; thank you.

Thank you for your kind words and thank you for loving my work. It's always a pleasure to know something I wrote even as recently as a month ago has made an impact on someone, let alone something written years ago. As far as Beetlejuice goes; I'm not as active in terms of content creation but it's not as though I've left the fandom entirely. I occasionally check the tags here on tumblr but most of the people making content I get excited about I tend to chat with on other platforms like discord. There's quite a few active Beetlejuice servers on there, it's just a matter of finding the right fit for you.

I do love Hazbin Hotel, but I'm not as vocal in the fandom because the chalastor antis have been especially virulent as of late and I learned my lesson about burn out from Beetlejuice. Baiting and hating on them does nothing, so I tend to gripe about the more stupid ones and then I laugh and move on. To be quite honest I haven't been writing much because I moved and my setup isn't put back together yet. I try but unfortunately it is frowned upon to write fanfic at work lol.

Feel free to follow my posts, it's usually just me reblogging funny nonsense or cool art. I have a list a problematic ships a mile wide so hang on, you might find something else you're into haha.

#answered asks #dream replies #thank you nonny #i appreciate it

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stiitch · 1 month

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Adopting More Open-Minded Approaches to Databases

Recently, I was introduced to time series databases such as InfluxDB. It made me realize that I haven't really broadened my understanding on databases and available options too much at all since I learned SQL in college. I don't have an in-depth grasp on time series databases, but after playing with the open source version of InfluxDB I was pretty impressed.

Features

InfluxDB offers a fairly well thought out product. As a NoSQL database, it doesn't have standard tables. Instead, it stores datapoints at a specific timestamp. That timestamp identifies a point in any given data series. Your writes can choose how granular you want your timestamp to be (ie. attribute data to a minute, second, millisecond, etc.).

BUCKET - you can create multiple buckets to write data to

MEASUREMENT - you name what kind of measurement this is

Now, you could have multiple measurements happening at a single timestamp. In this case, you would have different tags separating your data.

Lets say you saw a litter of like 8 cats. They were really fucking cute and you weren't gonna let them just rot on the street. Alright, you bring them home and you gotta feed them. You make an auto-feeding IoT device. You suspect your hoodlum street cats of stealing from the source though. So, you log the food your device spits out. Suppose your device has cat detection too. Each time a cat comes, you can tell which cat it is.

You can have the tag name along with the measurement of how many kibbles dispensed. This might look like this:

food_dispensed,name=luna pellets=28 1434055562000000000

So the measurement is called "food_dispensed", the name tag is set to "luna", and the field "pellets" has a value of 28.

Limitations

Of course InfluxDB isn't perfect. There's rarely a one-size-fits-all solution in tech. InfluxDB offers create and retrieve operations that are very easy and nice to use along with your choice of many client libraries and 2 query language options. However, if you need to use Update and Destroy operations, you're out of luck. They're very optimized for speed so they offer none.

Another known issue is data with high cardinality. Luckily, there are other options to choose from such as TimescaleDB which offers promising benchmarks over InfluxDB with regard to cardinalty.

Polyglot Persistence

As more unique services come out more frequently then ever, it feels like applications need to start leveraging every small piece of innovation wherever they can. To this end, we see applications broken into smaller microservices so that different services can use different tools to improve the work they do. Why would databases be any different? I'm no the first person who thought of this and it's an idea that's been around for quite a while. The first I read about it was here on Martin Fowler's blog.

With developers using a lot of distributed systems, it makes sense that each part of the whole may have different databasing needs. I was genuinely subscribed to the idea that Postgresql was enough and I would be good. And Postgresql is powerful, but there are situations where NoSQL databases make sense even if it's just for convenience sake. Maintainability is also an issue to consider to ensure a longer lifetime for your app.

Although it may seem intimidating keeping services outputting to different databases, it's worth looking into message brokers. Many databases can integrate well with message brokers like Kafka in order to provide excellent data replication or near real-time updates between different systems.

Conclusion

So there's a lot out there to explore and understand better. As a developer, I'm trying to figure out where to best spend my time to improve my skillset. I don't want to get bogged down to the minute details but I also don't want to gloss over learning opportunities either. Seeing some of the things I've been looking into this week along with my own thoughts written out helps me get more perspective. If you stayed till the end of this, I hope that this helps you in some way.

#programming #database #software development #codeblr #web development #sql

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envy-of-the-apple · 2 years

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can you write something with lucifer? honestly, im not sure what, the rest is up to you, i just really wanna read something with him nddjsj im sorry this is so vague have a wonderful day

kk ive been watching a lot of paranormal things lately and apparently, in order for malevolent entities to take you, they have to be given permission. thats just so creepy and luci would just be perfect for this fjdhlsfjdslfjds so ya enjoy.

(Yandere, obsession, manipulation(maybe, i think?), scary dream shit idk what to tag this with honestly, possession)

When you were younger, you were enamored with the idea of lucid dreaming.

A world in your mind, in which you had complete control over. A place where you could do anything, be anything.

You were never able to master it, no matter how hard you tried. By the time you realized you were even dreaming you’d wake up in quiet frustration. It was infuriating, but pointless enough to flit away as you grew older. Over time, you forgot you had even tried.

But these days, the dreams you’ve been having were fairly....lucid.

The trees were fake. The grass wasn’t alive. The animals you’d see once or twice were all in your head. Nothing was real.

Even that man.

He introduced himself as Lucifer. The devil. You supposed your subconscious wasn’t very good at making demons. He always looks so beautiful, an ethereal man that moves and talks and smiles and laughs so prettily. He resembles someone fit for gliding over celestial skies, rather than a creature of the night.

“Do you like it?”

The cup is still raised to your lips. You hum, too indulged in the tea to actually give an answer. It’s sweet, with the slightest hint of being bitter.

“It’s good,” You finally say, “Is it a favorite of yours?”

Lucifer sits across from you, swathed in black. You often wondered if he ever got hot wearing that, especially-here- in the sunny grassy plain your mind had concocted. You never had the courage to actually voice it, too scared that complex questions like that might break this world.

“It’s close to becoming one,” He smiles, “Lord Diavolo brought this with him from his trip to the celestial realm. I thought you would appreciate it.”

You nodded. You learned very quickly not to pry into terms such as the ‘Celestial Realm’. It hit a sore spot for him, made the wind blow a little harsher, the skies grow a little darker.

Instead you placed your cup down, spreading your arms on the picnic table.

“Is he still giving you a hard time? Lord Diavolo, that is.” Your lips curve into a sympathetic frown.

He gives a sigh, looking much more exhausted. He’s so beautiful. They say the subconscious can’t make new faces, so it pulls faces from people you’ve already seen before. You wonder where you’ve seen this man before.

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it that,” He says, “He means well, he truly does, but he’s too impulsive. Always wandering to the next thing too quickly.”

You try to imagine it. Lucifer surrounded by stacks of papers, each with dangerously close deadlines.

“I’m guessing that’s why he chose you then,” You say thoughtfully, “He trusts you to keep him focused. You’re his partner.”

“Partner,” He breathes, like he thinks he’s undeserving of even uttering the word.

“And,” You add in a much more joking tone, “He gives you a warm up before you have to deal with your brothers.”

That gets a laugh out of him. It’s short, but genuine.

“Speaking of, what have they done recently?” You ask, “Anything exciting?”

“Not one day passes without our home being torn apart by their shenanigans,” He says, more out of defeat than anything else, “Though, lately, they’ve been much...quieter. It’s a bit unnerving.”

Diavolo, his brothers, you know more about Lucifer than people who you’ve known for years. He’s so transparent with his issues, bringing them forth even when you don’t have a clear answer. Most times, however, you don’t think he’s looking for a solution. Je just wants someone to just sit and listen to him vent. As always, you’re more than happy to comply. It wasn’t like there was much else to do in this world.

“I might just string Mammon up on the ceiling. Just as a precaution.”

You laugh at that, “You know, sometimes, I feel like you enjoy torturing your brothers, especially Mammon.”

“Was it too obvious?” He asks, and you laugh again.

“It’s a little admirable, though. The lengths you’d go to in order to protect your brothers. You really love them, hm?”

He hesitates, turning his head away in a rare display of embarrassment.

“I...I have no choice but to care for them,” He sighs, “Despite the centuries they’ve lived, they still act like children, creating a ruckus all over Devildom.”

You hum. The silence between you two grows, as you ponder over what Lucifer said. It feels nice. Good. It’s probably why you slip a little, say something you should have hid from Lucifer. A truth.

“I think I’d like to meet them one day.”

He doesn’t respond. Not immediately. You hear the rustle of heavy clothes as he shifts.

“Meet them? Am I not enough?”

It’s phrased as a joke, and you think he wants you to believe its one too. You almost smile, but the words are too harsh, a thin veil that’s covering something festering.

“No, of course not,” You quickly say, “I just...well, you talk about them a lot. It’s not a crime to be at least a little curious, right?”

“It’s not,” He replies, reeling himself back in, “It’s not, but, my brothers...they aren’t harmless. They’re demons, monstrous. A little human like you wouldn’t fare well with them.”

“Yes, but-”

“You’re helpless against them. They’ll use you as a toy. They’ll break you, treat you as something they own. When they don’t.” He’s hissing, low and sharp. Gloved fingers dig into the armrest, close to splintering them.

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to even respond. It’s not the first time Lucifer’s lashed out, but he’s never been so vindictive, possessive.

As if even the thought of you interacting with another being is infuriating.

“It’s getting late,” You finally say, “I should probably get going.”

Despite it never spoken, you know he’s aware of your words being a code, what you always speak whenever you wanted to get to your own world. Pouting is normal, as well as small bribes to make you stay. You don’t expect him to shift forward, putting his weight into his elbows. The smile on his face is back, but it’s colder. Crueler.

“Oh? But you just got here. I can’t have you leaving so soon.”

You watch him cross his legs, and suddenly the air feels heavy, like it’s pushing you to stay seated. Your fingers, grip the sides of your seat, trying to move but finding no strength. The aura suddenly changed, the once peaceful meadow was still bright, still airy, but it felt like a cage, trapping you with something inhuman. For the first time since you’ve had these dreams, your sense of control has vanished.

Like it was never in your hands to begin with.

You shake the thoughts away, finally managing to regain control of your racing mind.

“I understand. But I need to go now.”

The world begins to tilt.

“I’m glad you’re here,” He says, leaning back, “You’ve always been so easy to talk to. I think that’s why I’ve grown so attached to you.”

Your face feels so heavy, your eyes are struggling to open. Everything suddenly seemed much....darker.

“Attached...?”

Your voice sounds so far away, like you’re underwater. You’re trying to blink away the sudden fog in your head.

“I think I...want to keep you.”

What? You’re dizzy and his last words float away as you try your best to keep your balance. He’s there right beside you, catching your face in his hands. You dazingly look into his eyes. Red. He looks different. You can’t focus on anything right now, but there’s something floating behind him. Feathers. Black.

His lips are soft, just barely brushing your cheek. You feel him smile.

“May I come in?”

Your mouth begins to open-

You wake up drenched in sweat. Your sheets have twisted, turning to resemble snakes, restraining your body. You’re quick to kick them off, finally managing to sit up. Your breathing is heavy, labored, like you can’t believe you’re still alive.

It takes a moment for your heart to stop racing, a second for you to realize you’re no longer in that too-perfect meadow. When you finally get your bearings, you’re laughing, more out of relief than any real mirth.

Your room is still dark, but the shadows are waning, washing away with the dawn slowly creeping through your window. You’re half-tempted to yank the shutters open, just so the darkness can burn away even faster.

But you don’t, you barely even feel like you can move. The fear is still there, still thumping away in your heart. You put a hand on your chest, feeling it beat faster and faster.

“It was just a nightmare,” Your voice is quiet, like you’re too scared someone will hear, someone might prove you wrong, “Just a nightmare.”

May I come in, he had asked.

You gave an answer.

You just can’t remember what you said.

#yandere #yandere x reader #obey me! shall we date?#obey me lucifer x reader #obsession #yandere obey me #yandere lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #non con touching

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scarlettriot · 3 years

Text

Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

#mha #bnha #mha smut #denki kaminari #kaminari #kaminari smut #denki kaminari smut #mha fluff #denki fluff #denki smut #denki x you #mha x reader #kaminari x reader #denki x reader

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dearlyfictitious2 · 3 years

Text

Apparently Sun Kisses are Non Refundable

Hey!! Here’s another drabble that took over my mind and refused to let go until I wrote it out. It doesn’t really fit into the main story yet so I decided to post it here. It’ll be re edited and posted there later on after the Camp Half-Blood Renovations and Other Shenanigans arc!

Percy exited the Big House and groaned in agitation, he and Chiron had been discussing naval strategies and possible warship designs all morning and into the late afternoon. They weren’t planning to go to war anytime soon, but with recent events far too close to one another to be a happy coincidence, they thought it best to be prepared for the worst.

If anything, they could be used as transportation or a leisurely trip around the world.

Triton was actually supposed to be at their meeting, but he was caught up with a massive back up of missing packages in Armoniá, so he sent Percy up instead and asked that he go over everything on his list with great detail.

Percy sighed in relief, as much as he loved talking about the sea, Triton somehow managed to make even that a chore. He’d written around a hundred questions and he had to pencil in every single answer. His hand was buzzing by the end of it and he had to shake it repeatedly to get the feeling back in it.

Along with Triton, Apollo and Hermes were scheduled to be at camp today to visit some of their kids.

Lately the gods had been observing Percy’s stay with Poseidon and saw the healthy benefits of maintaining a good in-person relationship with their children. However, due to Percy’s special exceptions, they weren’t quite allowed to take their children home with them, but Zeus had begun to allow more frequent visits, and he deemed meetups at camp to be a good neutral place to start.

As expected, both the gods and their children of all ages were happy with the arrangement and got two gods visiting every three weeks for an entire day.

It was slow, but the gods had their duties to attend to, so both parties were grateful with what they could have.

Percy stopped by Will Solace who was standing a good distance away from the archery range, he had a soft smile on his face as he watched his Father teach his youngest sibling how to notch an arrow on a bow.

“Hey Will, how's it going?”

Will blinked and flashed Percy a smile as bright as his Father’s, “It’s been great man! Greta’s learning so much from Dad.” fondness laced his tone at the mention of his eight year old sister, “She’s been doing so good.”

His sister was one of the youngest demigods here at Camp Half-Blood, her mortal mother had died in a terrible car accident that left Greta alone without anyone to care for her.

Apollo had sent Grover and Will to pick her up right away before the mortal legal system could and ever since then, Will, with his softer disposition, has been acting as her main caretaker.

“That’s really good to hear.” he said earnestly.

“Hm.” he hummed happily.

As they continued to watch, Percy felt a tug on his shirt and when he turned around, he was face to face with Hermes’ sons Connor and Travis, “Wassup guys?”

“Nothing much.” said Connor.

“Just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” replied a baffled Percy.

Both brothers leaned on each of his shoulders and relaxed their stance, “It’s just really nice seeing our Dad like this.” Conner said in his easy going drawl, while eyeing his Father Hermes playing tag with his younger siblings in the distance, “You really came through for us on this one.”

“Whoa hang on, I didn’t do anything.” Percy denied.

“You just don’t see it man, but as cheesy as it sounds, we can all feel it.”

Percy didn’t know what to say to such a response, all he’d been doing was staying with his divine family in the ocean. How could he have possibly made a difference by just doing that?

“Hey, don’t think too hard about it.” Travis nudged him from his side, “Just go with it okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“Percy, just shut up and accept it.” Will chipped in.

“Yeah okay, fine.” Percy relented, “I’m just glad that whatever I did makes you guys happier.”

“Luke would’ve loved this.”

Percy almost didn’t hear Connor say it, but he couldn’t have imagined it, “Do you think so?”

He could feel both of their arms tighten reassuringly around him, he turned and saw Connor flash him a warm smile, “Definitely.”

Percy still wasn’t really sure how his actions made these godly visits possible or what he did to deserve such good brothers-in-arms, but he would never take it for granted.

All fuzzy fluttering in his stomach aside, he couldn’t help but stare longingly at both of the Stoll brother’s arms and Will’s face.

“Hahhh, you guys are so lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have such awesome tans.” he cast a gloomy gaze at his own lackluster arms, “I still have my natural olive tone, but because I spent so much time in Atlantis, I’ve lost my glow.”

Will eyed him critically while stroking his chin, “Hmm, yeah I see what you mean Perce. You have a natural light olive complexion, but you don’t have your bronzy sun kissed glow anymore.”

Percy groaned in annoyance, “I won’t be able to brag about my tan to Triton if I don’t get my glow back.”

Because of Triton’s asocial tendencies, he rarely left the sea and had a pale/fair olive tone skin as a result.

“Meh, cheer up!” chirped Travis, “You can always get it back the good ol’ fashioned way.”

“And that would be?”

“Hard labor under the sun!” both brothers said at the same time.

“Gee, I guess that’s one way to get sun kissed.”

“A Sun Kiss? What about it?”

All three boys turned and saw the Sun God Apollo walking towards them with the rest of his children following closely behind him.

“Hey Dad.” greeted Will, “Percy was just whining-

“I wasn’t whining.” the Sea Prince pouted.

-that he lost his bronze glow because of how long he spent in the deep sea with his folks.”

Apollo tilted his head, “Let’s see.” he pulled Percy away from the Stolls and squinted at his arms, “Ugh, you’re right, you do look pasty.”

“Thanks a lot.” he grumbled.

Apollo’s expression brightened up, “Hey it’s no problem. I can fix your pasty problem easy peasey!”

“Really, how?” Percy asked hopefully.

A devious look set itself on the Sun God’s face and his grip tightened ever so slightly.

“Like this!”

Without any regard to anyone who was there to witness, Apollo hauled Poseidon’s Prince towards him, caged him in his arms, and planted a firm three second kiss so close to his lips that it barely qualified as a cheek kiss.

!!!

The Stolls, Will, and everyone else around them all gaped at the scene in shock! Percy wasn’t faring any better, his eyes were as wide as saucers and his jaw felt like it was two inches from hitting the ground.

But then he started to glow.

His skin was brightening up and it almost looked like he was going to reveal his true godly form and by instinct, the surrounding demigods shielded their eyes and looked away. When the lights died down, Percy stood there, still in the Sun God’s arms, sporting a gorgeous sun kissed golden bronze overtone on his skin.

"Taadaa!" Apollo cheered.

After realizing that they weren’t seconds away from being accidentally vaporized, the first to recover was none other than Will.

“DAAAAAD!” he screeched in mortification, his surrounding siblings voiced similar sounds of distress. He had both hands on his face and was peeking through his fingers, “Don’t go around kissing my friends!”

His words seemed to ignite the flames and everyone around them, including the spectators that the God’s presence drew in, was still either in shock, squealing, or wolf whistling.

Amidst the noise, Percy finally slipped out of Apollo’s hold, “Well, I guess that’s one way to do it.” he really couldn’t complain, his former golden glow had returned and looked even more radiant than it previously ever did.

The Sun God beamed at him and waggled his eyebrow, “I do believe your gratitude is in order?”

“Uhh, um thanks?”

“You’re welcome!”

While the excitement ensued around them, one being stood behind them and gaped half in disbelief and half in horror, “Ouranos, Gaia, and Chaos Almighty...please tell me you didn’t do what I think I just saw you do.”

Apollo turned around and proudly showcased the Sea Prince to his godly brother, “Do you like it? He looks great doesn’t he?”

Hermes walked deliberately slowly towards him and gestured to Percy, “Apollo...for a Sun God, how can you be so dim!” he spat.

The playful smirk fell off Apollo’s face, “Hey, watch it.”

Everyone present fell silent to the rising tension.

“Do you not realize what you’ve done?” Hermes continued, “You’ve given him a Sun Kiss!”

“Well I sure as hades wasn’t trying to give him a Sun Stroke.”

“That’s not the point!”

Apollo rolled his eyes, “Alrighty then, what's your point Captain Obvious?”

“That is your Sun Kiss, what do you think is going to happen the moment Poseidon or Triton sees the blessing on his cheek?”

Because it was on his cheek, Percy couldn’t see that there was a large faint shimmery outline of a sun at the corner of his lips where Apollo had kissed him.

At least to the demigods it looked that way, but to the fully divine; the Sun God might as well have put a beacon of light on his face that blatantly declared: APOLLO WAS HERE!

Apollo paled, and looked as though he’d suddenly gone and lost his own signature golden glow, “Oh sh-

“Dad!” Will yelped, holding his hands over his youngest sibling’s ears, “Not in front of Greta!

“-sssssuugar honey iced tea!” he quickly amended.

“Uh yeah, sugar honey iced tea, you moron!” berated the God of Thieves, “They’re gonna skin you alive and use your pelt to decorate the foot of his throne!”

Apollo whirled his attention to the Sea Prince and stared at him as though he would spontaneously turn into Poseidon if he so much as dared to breathe.

“Apollo,” Percy put his hands up and started to back away slowly, “Hey, let’s calm down and think about this.”

He did not calm down.

He pounced him to the ground, straddled him, and began to rub his forearm across his cheek, “Haha! Not to worry!” he tried to convince himself, “All I gotta do is rub it off!”

“Ow ow ow- STOP IT BURNS- ow ow!”

“How do you know that’s even going to work?” Hermes asked in exasperation.

“I don’t!”

“Then what are you gonna do?!”

“I don’t know!” Apollo wailed, he switched tactics and tried to remove his blessing with spit now coating his thumb “My Sun Kisses never warranted me a death sentence before so I’ve never actually had to remove one!”

“NO DON’T- Ewww gross! I said STOP!”

“Well you gotta do something!” Hermes not so helpfully pointed out.

“Like what?!”

“I don’t know either!”

“GET OFF OF ME!” Percy bellowed and thrust his pelvis upward into the Sun God’s groin so hard that he was launched into the air and landed in a painful pathetic heap a couple of yards away from him.

The Sea Prince rolled over and sat on his haunches, he was teary eyed and his cheek was rubbed raw and a bright angry pink, but the mark was still clear as day, “I told you to stop!”

Apollo recovered quickly and faced the enraged Sea Prince, “I need to get that off you, my life is on the line!”

“You were about to sandpaper my cheek off!”

“I’ll fix it later!” he promised, and held his damp, spit covered thumb menacingly, “Now come back here!”

“Get away from me!”

The campers couldn’t believe the scene they were made to witness. It was absolutely unreal. Apollo’s children were forced to watch as Percy Jackson ran away from their Father, the Mighty Sun God Apollo’s spit covered thumb as if he was trying to avoid catching the cooties.

“Come back! I need to clean you!” he demanded while waving his thumb like a weapon of mass destruction.

To which Percy did his best to avoid.

“No!”

The chase went on for a full three minutes until Percy was able to run an arc around Apollo and make a mad dash to the fountain. He needed to hydro drift the heck outta there!

He was almost home free and was about to launch himself in but someone else had just hydro drifted out of it.

It was his brother Triton!

Percy’s momentum caused him to slam right into his brother’s unsuspecting arms and toppled both of them onto the surface of the water.

Triton sat up sputtering and stared down at his brother in bafflement, he had a vice grip around his upper arms and his face was buried in the crook of his neck.

“Perseus? What in our Father’s name has gotten into you?”

Now Percy’s been through a lot of ordeals, ones that have tested his strength, his resolve, his will to live; you name it. However, he could say with full confidence that he’d never dealt with something of this nature.

His cheek felt like it was on fire, some of Apollo’s spibble was still dripping down his chin, and he felt absolutely humiliated. He could take on many things, but a blow to his pride like this?

It crossed the godsdamned line!

He knew what he was about to do was playing dirty and he’d be manipulating his brother, but he craved vengeance.

Apollo could only stare in silent horror as he saw and recognized what could only mean his impending doom.

Percy scrunched up his face, and started to weep softly.

Triton flinched in alarm when he heard Perseus start to weep into his neck, “Perseus?” Why was his brother crying? What could possibly bring his strong and proud brother to this state? He could even feel him trembling! He wrapped his arms around his back and cradled him closer, “Brother what’s wrong?”

“Triton,” he whimpered, “It was awful *sniff!* he- *sob*”

“Who was it?” the Sea God demanded.

“I-I tried to *hic* get away b-but *sniff!* I was trapped and he*sniff sob!*” Percy paused for a dramatic effect, “TRITON HE-

“Perseus what happened?!” Triton shouted in a rare public display of lost composure, he pulled his brother back, grabbed his face, and tilted it up to get a look at it and he froze.

His brother’s eyebrows were upturned in woe, his beautiful soulful eyes were filled to the brim with crystalline tears that clumped his thick lashes together and threatened to fall down his face in streams, and the right side of his cheek was a blistering, angry, raw colored pink...

With a Sun Kiss branded on the corner of his mouth.

Everything around Triton started to get fuzzy and he could hear his ichor pounding in his ears. He couldn’t think, couldn’t even fathom something so ugly marring his brother’s lovely face.

Perseus sniffled and leaned into the cool touch of Triton’s palm, “I t-tried to take it off, b-but he chased me *sniff!* and h-hurt my back.” Upon closer observation, Triton saw that his brother’s back was indeed all scratched up as well, “T-Triton.” he whispered and closed his eyes, he needed to make sure his best weapon was well primed. He took in a final shuddering breath and dished out his own personal brand of payback, unleashing all of Tartarus on his perpetrator.

Triton stared blankly at his baby brother as he opened his eyes again and finally let his tears fall, “Triton, he forced himself on me...Apollo kissed me!”

Percy had revealed his Crying Baby Seal Eyes™ of mass destruction.

Something snapped within the Sea God as he slowly brought his gaze up to meet the Sun God’s. He carded his fingers through his brother��s hair to soothe him and summoned his Trident in his free palm; crackling and fizzing, his divine aura was nearly bursting at the seams, his pupils constricted into slits,

“YOU FILTHY MONGREL.”

At that point, Hermes had gathered all the kids and quickly whisked them and himself to safety, while Apollo stood there like a deer caught in headlights at the sight of Crown Prince Triton’s rage. From the corner of his eye, he saw a tiny smile play on Percy’s shapely lips as he gazed at him in utter satisfaction.

Perseus Achilles had indeed inherited his Father Poseidon’s infamous mood swings.

It was right then and there, that Apollo knew, he FUCKED up.

#percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #pjo #pjato/hoo #Triton #Apollo #bonding(continued story)#i'm an impatient bitch #bonding drabble

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kaitsawamura · 3 years

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baby mine, don’t you cry

Summary: A quiet early morning moment between Reader and Deku and their newborn baby.

Pairing: Pro Hero Deku x Reader and newborn daughter

Warnings: None!

Tags: Just sheer baby fever fluff inspired by the movie A Beautiful Day. Aged Up Izuku Midoriya, Dad! Deku.

Notes: Short and sweet, I hope y’all enjoy! Not my best but I couldn’t get this beautiful little scene out of my head. Picture is not mine, it’s from Pinterest. I will be changing it, just wanted to get this up right away 😅

Links: AO3

Of all the things Izuku Midoriya thought he’d be doing at twenty-eight, being married to the love of his life and learning how to care for a newborn baby girl was not one of them. But here he was, exhausted, letting out a long-winded sigh through his lips as the baby fussed from the crib. You were blacked out next to him, thank god. You needed your sleep. He supposed he needed his too, but he had told the agency that he would only be coming in on an emergency basis for a little while. They had heartily agreed; the world was crazy and Pro Heroes needed love (maybe especially) too. It was only right that he got to be with his family at this crucial point.

Deku blearily looked over at the clock on his nightstand; the dimmed blue numbers read 3:53 AM. He tried to remain quiet, hoping for a bit that maybe the baby would go back to sleep but the minutes ticked by and her crying only grew louder and more frenzied. He pulled the quilt back from his body and sat up, bending over to let out a little groan. Everything in his body protested. The three of you had not gotten a whole lot of sleep recently while everyone acclimated to the new schedule. He carded his fingers through the curls atop his head and very nearly laid back down.

But then the baby let out a particularly strong wail and he rose on creaking knees to go to her crib. Even in the waning moonlight that ghosted through the window, he could see how red her cheeks were and with a lurching in his chest, he grabbed for her. Scooping her up into his arms and holding her against his bare chest. He walked back and forth for a moment before realizing she wasn’t quite done crying.

The wooden floor of the hallway shifted under his feet; it was spring and early mornings were still cold. His toes were a little frozen so he wiggled them as he walked. He rocked the baby, swaying his hips back and forth making little shshing sounds as he did but still, it was no use. Great crocodile tears etched paths down her chubby little cheeks and she drew in great hiccuping breaths.

“Oh, little one, ssh. It’s all right. Daddy’s here.” He resigned himself to no more sleep until his wife woke up for her “shift”. The rocking chair sat in the corner by the living room window. It looked very enticing right now; he was already dead on his feet. He turned on the little lighthouse night light that sat on a bookshelf near the chair and when the light bulb flickered to life, it cast a barely-there glow that just encompassed the chair. He sat, making himself as comfortable as possible, and brought his newborn daughter to his chest. She had just eaten an hour and a half ago; based on what he had learned so far, she wouldn’t be hungry just yet.

He rocked and hummed and hummed and rocked. She was so little, so tiny and he absently wondered if it was because of his own big shoulders or if all babies were like this. Tiny but willing to take on the world. And that’s what she sounded like as her crying gradually faded to whimpers, and then tiny little baby groans that matched her small fingers and toes. That she would take on the world if she had to had something cracking in his chest as he identified with that feeling. She nestled her face into his chest and his eyes near brimmed with tears of his own.

His life was nothing short of crazy. He was a Pro Hero. A Pro Hero mentored by All Might no less. A Pro Hero who had not been born with a quirk. A hero who had been a nobody. As his mind slowly edged between waking and sleeping, he realized that sometimes he still felt like a nobody. But with an unimaginable warmth seeping into his body from where his little girl lay against him, his heart skipped a beat.

Because he also realized that a nobody couldn’t make such a precious somebody as the little one he was holding in his arms.

---

You startled awake, the headache that had been threatening to hit from earlier finally gripping at the back of your neck. You had been sure you had heard the baby fussing a little while ago but now all was quiet. Deku’s side of the bed was empty, a ghosting of his scent and warmth still lingering on the sheets when your fingers brushed across them.

You sat up, squinting your eyes against the pain in your neck and shoulders. Ibuprofen would fix that but that was all the way in the medicine cabinet in the kitchen. Which really wasn’t all that far away but certainly felt like it at the moment. Deku must have gotten the baby but as your eyes blinked away sleep, you could see he wasn’t in the room. He must have gone out to the living room.

The pain in your neck radiated down your back and into your lower hips and lack of sleep made it feel near impossible to actually sit up and get out of bed. But your curiosity was piqued and the aches in your body were nearly growling. It was just 5:30 in the morning and you could hear the faint melody of birds chirping outside. You probably weren’t going to get any more sleep for a little while as it was.

You padded down the hallway, holding your hand against the small of your back, arching it in an attempt to eradicate some stiffness. The house was breathing all around you, making small noises as the world around you slowly awakened. It was still chilly; your feet protested the cold wood floor. A milky shaft of light flowed into the hallway from the kitchen. Another warmer light emanated from the living room. That must be where Deku was. Judging by the stillness in the air, he had accomplished what he came out to do.

You entered on a small gasped breath, placing your hand over your mouth as if that would help conceal the sound escaping your mouth. Deku was a stunning man. Even if he didn’t know it, you were always looking for chances to remind him and he was always doing things that just made himself a hundred times more attractive. Like the way his hair looked when he was straight out of the shower. Or the way he smirked when you told him a stupid joke. Or the way his hands looked when he was chopping vegetables for dinner. Or the way his smile looked when he caught you outside in the garden.

But he had never looked so good as he did right now and your heart bloomed on an almost painful balloon of happiness and love. The glow from the lighthouse night light was already weakening as the sun began its ascent but it was just enough to cast Deku’s face in a warm glow. He had a five o clock shadow now and was somewhere in between sleep and awareness; his foot propelled the rocking chair in a slow ambling rhythm but every once in a while it would stutter into stillness. You shook your head, a smile threatening to break across your face at the delightfully foolish man; he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt so your baby girl was skin to skin with him. Her eyes were shut and her little mouth was open just a touch.

You must have made some noise because his eyes fluttered open. He didn’t say anything just gently lifted a hand to beckon you over. The muscle memory of sneaking around whenever she was asleep kicked in though and this time you made it to him without making a sound. He closed his eyes briefly again as he took your hand in his own. It felt magical really to hold his hand. It was large and warm and callused. You brought it to your lips, pressing gentle kisses to the scars that crisscrossed his skin before leaning into his ear.

“Why don’t we sit back on the couch,” you whispered. At least the three of you could fit on there together and you had a creeping suspicion he wouldn’t go back to bed even if you suggested it. He lazily nodded his head before cradling the baby in his arms and rising, the breath whooshing from his lips as he attempted to move without waking her. You knew what it felt like to be held by him so you weren’t surprised when she didn’t wake from her slumber. After grabbing the much-needed painkiller for your headache, you settled in next to him.

He opened his arms and now was cradling two human beings. He was an expert at it really. You curled into him and listened with delight as the baby nestled even farther into the crook of his arm and let out a breathless sigh, the kind that only babies can make. Deku was already drifting back to sleep. You could tell by the way his breath deepened with each movement of his chest as your arm rested over his abdomen.

“I love you,” you murmured into his skin. He whispered it back against the crown of your head as the two of you floated into sleep and the world felt whole and good.

Early morning sun craned through the window; outside the city came to life. Spring danced on a breeze through the trees outside. All was well.

#izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aged up deku x reader #aged up izuku midoriya x reader #kaitsuki writes

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yumeyooa · 3 years

Text

bippity-boppity bloom: act one | todoroki shoto

—everyone knows the story of cinderella, saved by a prince and a glass slipper. but what if the true hero wasn’t the prince, but rather the fairy god mother? todoroki shoto has been suffering under the hands of his wicked family his whole life, yet everything changes when he meets you: a fairy forced to take care of him as punishment. will the odds be in your favor? or will everything go down from here on out?

➢ pairing: todoroki shoto x female! reader

➢ word count: 15.2k+

➢ love letter: henlo!! i am late but this is for @milktyama ‘s once upon an alternative universe collab!! originally this was supposed to be a one-shot, but i eventually realized that it would be better if this was split into two! although most of the romance comes in the second part T_T i hope you like it and let me know what you think!!

➢ taglist (send an ask to be tagged): @loveinhaikyuu @mirakeul @strcwberrieswine @kunaigirlx44 @maxzinn @faewraithsworld

navigation | anime masterlist | act two

Magic was a curious thing.

Since the dawn of time, people have used magic to describe the unknown, to give meaning to the things they could not explain. That quarter you lost suddenly showing up at your feet? Magic. An electric jolt shooting through your veins after coming into contact with another? Magic. Flowers blooming amidst the cold winter? Magic.

No matter where you went or what you did, magic was everywhere. It hid itself from the world, waiting in silence for those who would come to know the beauty of it. Those who would cherish it with all their heart and soul and would never abuse it for their own selfish gain.

To the rest of the world, magic was something they could only wish to find.

But the true secret of magic remained hidden in the arms of those who could wield it.

“Don’t tell me you’re pranking someone again?” An exasperated sigh calls from behind you, and you turn around, startled to find a young man with deep violet hair haphazardly framing his face. He was staring at you with an unimpressed look as if he had gone through this exact situation plenty of times in the past, and from the way you sheepishly smile back at him, he probably had.

“Me? Pranking Someone? Why I would never!” You exclaim, faking innocence as the man gives you a knowing look, causing a groan to fall from your lips as you heave a sigh, throwing a playful glare back his way.

“Oh, come on, Hitoshi!” You whine, rolling your eyes in fake annoyance. “What harm can one prank do? It’s not even that bad!”

“Must I remind you what happened that one time you decided to prank Elder Aizawa?” You freeze in your place, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. “He nearly convinced the council of elders to have you banished to the human realm! Do you not understand how grave that could have been?”

You remain silent, sulking. As much as you hated to admit it, your best friend had a point. To fairies, being banished was like a death sentence. Without any support from the all-powerful tree of life, a fairy would wither away and die just like that. It was scary to even think about it, and you were lucky that Hitoshi had somehow managed to save you from that terrible predicament.

From the very beginning, you had always been considered a peculiarity amongst the other fairies. Whereas they were graceful and elegant, you were clumsy and awkward. Where they excelled in soft chatter and gentle smiles, you reveled in chaos and the undignified.

You were an outcast amongst the fairies, but you honestly couldn’t blame them.

Fairies were the keepers of magic, after all. They were expected to uphold a particular image befitting of being wielders of the most sacred entity provided by the tree of life. Fairies were supposed to be noble and delicate. They were supposed to hold their heads up high as protectors of the supernatural. That very image, however, didn’t suit you at all.

You never understood it. Why did they take pride in being so uptight? It was boring. There was no freedom in upholding the elegance of their kind through every single thing they did. They seemed so bare as if being a fairy sucked all the life out of them. Which was ironic, considering they were supposed to be protectors of the tree of life.

“—(Y/N)? Are you even listening to me? Hello?” You snap out of your trance, looking at your friend who was staring at you with a nonchalant look on his face. Hitoshi has always been a rather unique character, even to you. He didn’t explicitly fit into the stereotypical image of a fairy, yet he was never ostracized for it. It was as if he was an exception— an anomaly from the harsh judgment of the fairy realm.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You ask, trying to come off as if you were paying attention when in all actuality, you weren’t. Hitoshi sighs, rolling his eyes playfully as he ruffles your head, messing up your hair in the process, causing a grunt of protest to fall from your lips. He sits beside you on the ledge you were perched atop on, staring down at the crowd of fairies below.

The two of you were apprentices to the council of elders, helping them ensure that there was order amongst the fairies. Order was essential for the protectors of the tree of life because, without it, chaos would ensue, and the world, no, the entire universe, would fall apart. The council of elders was the supreme government of the fairy world, and to be an apprentice to even one of them, was a great honor and responsibility.

You just hated all the expectations that came with it.

“What kind of prank were you supposed to play this time?” Hitoshi asks, humming as he stares up at the sky above you. You stare at the wand in your hand, puffing your cheeks in disappointment at the realization that you wouldn’t be able to pull the prank off anymore.

“Nothing much,” you mutter. “Just wanted to test out some new spells I learned the other day, and I figured why not test it out on some… unsuspecting figures.”

“(Y/N),” Hitoshi says, voice stern as if he were a mother reprimanding his child. You huff, pout forming on your lips. “You know that if any of the other elders were to find out, they’d have your apprenticeship stripped away. What would you do then?”

You stay silent, the truth in Hitoshi’s words stinging painfully, more than it should. He was right. Shunned away from your family since your coming of age, the council of elders was the only one who had accepted you, albeit reluctantly. No fairy wanted to be associated with an outcast after all. It would only tarnish that pure image they had crafted into perfection, and as prideful beings, they couldn’t have that.

If it wasn’t for Elder Yagi, the most influential fairy in the realm, then you would have been left for dead. Elder Yagi was the definition of the perfect fairy. He wasn’t just delicate and graceful on the surface; he was kind and compassionate within. Although many disagreed with his views on accepting those who didn’t fit into society’s expectations, they could never truly go against him. Because that would be like going against the very essence of fairies, after all.

So they kept their malice and disdain a secret, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and if you weren’t careful, then their next victim would be you.

“The elders are calling for you,” Hitoshi says out of the blue, causing your blood to run cold. You stare at him with a shocked expression on your face, and you couldn’t deny the fear that was beginning to bubble within. “Elder Aizawa sent me to look for you. Said they requested your presence immediately.”

There’s a solemn look on Hitoshi’s face, and you can tell beyond the surface that he’s worried. Being called upon by the council of elders meant only one of two things to a fairy: it was either they were to be punished, or they were to be rewarded. And you had done nothing of the sort to deserve a just reward.

You chuckle, looking down at your lap, not knowing what to say. You didn’t understand why what you did was so wrong. Why were they trying to punish you when all you wanted was to bring life into this otherwise dull place? No matter how hard they tried to hide it, some fairy children enjoyed your pranks, and the thought of bringing smiles to their faces was what kept you going.

You just didn’t expect to get severely punished for it, though.

“Thanks for telling me, Hitoshi,” you say, standing up, a fake smile plastered on your face in an attempt to seem as if his recent news didn’t bother you as much as it did. “Guess I better get going then, wouldn’t want Elder Aizawa to scold me for being late again.”

Hitoshi remains silent, staring up at you with an unreadable expression before letting out a sigh, standing up and ruffling your hair once more. “Stop putting up a brave face, idiot. It doesn’t suit you.” You want to protest but can’t find the courage to do so, remaining silent as the smile falls from your face. “Come on, I’ll accompany you there.”

Shocked, you look up at him, features clearly showing your surprise. “What?” He asks, scoffing. “You really think I wouldn’t accompany you to your death? You know that I’d kill to see it happen in front of my very eyes.”

You know he’s joking, trying to lighten up the mood because the nerves running through you are too much to handle. But even so, you’re grateful for it. Despite not being outright honest about it, Hitoshi still cared. He had cared for you ever since you called out one of the other fairies for calling him a disgrace the moment you first met. He had stuck with you through thick and thin and had been the only fairy to believe in you, aside from Elder Yagi.

And you couldn’t be any more grateful for it.

“Weirdo,” you call, a genuine smile forming on your lips, Hitoshi reflecting his own, albeit his was a lot less noticeable. You take a deep breath, trying to calm down the nerves that were thrumming deep beneath your skin, and nod to Hitoshi, the two of you teleporting just outside the auditorium of the council of elders.

You had always hated the auditorium. It was a dark and scary place, dimly lit, with all of the elders present atop a high porch, staring down at you like you were some inferior being to them. Whenever you were in the dark room, assisting the elders in their work, you always felt the paranoia creep up against you, begging you to just run and leave the room, even when there was no immediate danger present.

That was the effect the council of elders had always possessed since the beginning— intimidation. And you hated them for it.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the raging waves of nervousness that were thrashing wildly deep inside you. You’re shaking. You can see it in the way your hands shiver as you reach out to place a knock on the wooden doors, hesitating.

“You’ll be fine,” Hitoshi whispers, a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “No matter what happens, I’ll be here, yeah?”

It’s comforting. Hitoshi isn’t one for words and prefers to show his care through subtle actions, but you know he means well. Taking another deep breath, you give your best friend a weak smile, knocking on the doors, heart heavy.

Like magic, they open, and a deep “come in” calls out to you, causing you to gulp as you nod one final time to Hitoshi before entering the auditorium, with a hopeful heart dangling on the edge of light and darkness.

The Council of Elders truly had a knack for intimidation, you think to yourself as you stare up at the seven fairies that governed the world you had come to know. They sat atop their seats (which looked more like thrones, in your opinion), staring down at you with glares on their faces.

While you had expected their hostility towards you, as you didn’t exactly have the best reputation amongst their apprentices, you were surprised that even Elder Yagi, your mentor, and father figure, was looking at you with a disappointed gaze. What was going on? What had you done wrong?

It’s then, amidst your confusion, that your eyes land on another figure present in the room. The very presence of this figure makes your blood boil in anger, and you try to suppress it with deep breaths, closing your eyes to calm yourself before meeting eyes with the said figure.

Neito. Oh, how you despised the man. Neito was one of your fellow apprentices who served the Council of Elders, specifically Elder Sekijiro, who was in charge of the vanguard— the elite force of fairies that specialized in defense, ensuring that there was peace and order in the world.

While it was an honorable position, Neito was not an honorable man in the slightest. Ever since you had met him, he had been mean and downright evil, taunting you every chance he got. He was the very reason you had gotten into trouble, multiple times, with the council. He was your mortal enemy, your archnemesis, the man you wished would fall into a puddle of shit and never come back the same.

If he was there in the room, then it only meant one thing. He had ratted you out or had made up some ridiculous story to use against you.

Typical.

Oh, how you wished you could wipe that ridiculous smirk off his face.

“(Y/N),” a voice booms and your eyes turn up to meet Grand Elder Nezu, the elder amongst all elders, the wisest and most potent fairy ever known (much to the disbelief of everyone else, as compared to Elder Yagi, Elder Nezu looked weak. But, you supposed, you shouldn’t judge someone based on appearance alone).

“I bow towards the Council of Elders,” you greet, bowing in respect. Your heart thrummed nervously within you, not sure what to think of this summon. What were they going to reprimand you for this time?

“Are you aware of the reason you’ve been summoned here today?” Grand Elder Nezu asks, looking at you with calculating eyes. You gulp, not knowing how to proceed, but figured that in a situation like this, honesty was the best policy. “Unfortunately, no, Grand Elder,” you reply, eyes cast down in respect. “I have an idea, but even so, I am still clueless to the true reason as to why I’ve been summoned.”

“Ha!” Neito exclaims, scoffing. “Look at how shameless she is, Grand Elder. Pretending to not know when she knows exactly what she’s done?”

“I beg your pardon?” You ask, feeling yourself get annoyed the more Neito stood there all high and mighty as if he were some chosen one. “I speak the truth, elders. I truly have no idea why I’ve been summoned….”

“Lies!” Neito accuses, pointing a finger at you. “How can you be so shameless after attacking me?”

You pause, blinking slowly as you try to process the ridiculous claim Neito had just presented. You? Attacking him? As much as you despised the guy, you knew that attacking another fairy was absolutely forbidden for an apprentice of the council of elders. You weren’t stupid.

“Attacking you?” You ask in disbelief. “When have I ever attacked you, Neito?”

You watch with cautious eyes as Neito smirks at you, eyes taunting as if you had played right into his trap. He grabs the hem of his dress shirt before pulling it up to reveal a massive bruise on his torso.

“You did this,” he accuses, and you can tell he’s faking it, although judging by the harsh glare you’re receiving from Elder Sekijiro, his act is actually believable. Were the elders really that vulnerable? “You attacked me because you were jealous of my achievements!”

You gape at him, not believing your eyes at the pure monstrosity that was the situation you were facing him. What kind of story was this? There was no way that the council of elders actually believed him, right? Their view of you wasn’t that bad, right?

“(Y/N),” Grand Elder Nezu calls, eyes stern. “Is this true?”

“Of course not, Grand Elder!” You exclaim in protest. “What reason do I have to be jealous of Neito?”

“Don’t listen to her lies, Grand Elder!” Neito says. With the way he was acting, you swear he could get an award for being the worst and best actor of all time, and you yourself weren’t sure how that was possible. “In fact, the question we should be asking is what reason does she have to not be jealous of me? She’s an outcast. She’s been shunned by society for so long. Everyone knows she hates my guts— although I do not understand why as I’ve been nothing but nice to her— so why would she not want to sabotage me when she sees me excel?”

Scratch that best actor award, you think to yourself. The darn idiot deserved an award for being an expert manipulator. If you didn’t know better, if you weren’t sure of your truth, you would have been swayed by his words, second-guessing yourself and questioning whether or not you did attack him. But unluckily for Neito, you were one stubborn fairy, and you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“You? Nice to me?” you say, seething, much to the shock of everyone in the room. “Grand Elder, what Neito is saying is absolutely preposterous! Yes, it is true that I hate his guts, but that’s because ever since I’ve been an apprentice, he’s made my life a living hell! And besides, this apprenticeship is all I have. If I do anything to jeopardize it, I would have nowhere to go; I’d basically be dead. Why would I risk it because of one person? And Neito, for that matter!”

You honestly didn’t mean to let your emotions slip like that. But you couldn’t help it. It infuriated you that the council would be willing to believe Neito. Neito who had everything, who had a choice to leave or not, who had a family to return to. Neito who didn’t understand how much pain you were going through, how much torment plagued your heart. He didn’t and would never understand. That’s what privilege does to a person.

“Grand Elder—” Neito begins, and you swear if he spits any more lies, you would genuinely launch at him and smack him in the face. But before you could make a move, the Grand Elder raises his hand, causing silence to settle in the room.

“—Enough.” Grand Elder Nezu’s voice booms throughout the empty room, causing the two of you to halt in your banter, bowing in shame and obedience. “The council has heard both sides and are appalled by the disgrace exuded by both fairies, especially you young Neito.”

You can see the way Neito clenches his fist, glaring at the ground below him, and you can almost imagine the way he thinks the floor is your head, glaring daggers at it for causing him to be criticized by the grand elder of all fairies. But that was the least of your concerns, as you can feel their disappointed glances lying on you as well.

“For your misconduct, both of you will receive punishment. However, young (Y/N), because of your alleged behavior and misdeeds, we will have to take extra precautions to ensure that this does not happen again.” You can feel your heart beating rapidly within your chest. What kind of punishment was he going to give? You hoped you weren’t going to get banished because you couldn’t stand the thought of not having to see the people you cherished ever again.

But whatever the council says, goes, and no fairy, no matter how powerful they were in society, could deny their final verdict.

“For your punishment, young Neito, you will be serving under Elder Aizawa until the Purification Ceremony next fall.” From where you stood, you could see Neito jolt up in fear, eyes pleading with the Grand Elder silently, as if he were begging them to give him any other punishment instead.

Elder Aizawa was the dean of the academy all fairies were expected to graduate from. And, as a dean should, he was incredibly strict and was known for ruling over his apprentices with an iron fist. Amongst all the elders of the council, he was the one most hoped to avoid serving under, and if you were sent to serve under him, then it meant that you had done something extremely bad.

Although, sometimes you could hardly believe those rumors, considering Hitoshi himself served under Elder Aizawa. But perhaps that was because the said elder treated Hitoshi like he was his own son, much like Elder Yagi did to you.

As much as Neito wanted to protest, to exclaim how preposterous it was for a fairy from the noble family of Monoma to not serve through the vanguard, he couldn’t. The elders’ eyes pierced through him, and it was incredibly nerve-wracking once he felt the menacing glare of Elder Sekijiro on him. Even his own master thought he deserved to be punished. What a shame.

With his head bowed low, Neito grits his teeth, bowing towards the council. “I humbly accept this punishment bestowed upon me by the Council of Elders and pledge to fulfill it until I am deemed worthy once more.” His words contain malice, and you can tell he was trying to control himself from lashing out and making the situation even worse. It was a blow to his pride, after all, that he would get punished after trying to bring someone ‘beneath’ him down.

Just as he’s about to take his leave, he stops beside you, and it almost feels as if he’s glaring at your soul, cursing it for the things you’ve done to him, although reality has proved that you’ve done nothing wrong. “Just you wait,” he whispers, low enough for only you to hear. “I’ll get you back someday,” and then he leaves, closing the wooden doors shut behind him.

The silence that envelopes the auditorium is uncanny, you think to yourself. Maybe it was because you were still getting the chills from the words Neito had whispered into your ear. Or perhaps it was because of the unreadable yet at the same time uncomfortable stares the council was throwing your way. Either way, the silence made you want to drown. To hide in the comforts of your room and stay there until the coast was clear.

“Young (Y/N),” Grand Elder Nezu begins, and you gulp, hoping for the best yet expecting the worst. “As for your punishment, you will be reassigned to another group of apprentice fairies under my guidance— the god fairies.”

What?

...God Fairies?

Grand Elder Nezu smiles softly at the look on your face before clearing his throat and continuing, trusting that you would be able to keep up with him. In his eyes, you were a rather intelligent fairy after all. Strange, but brilliant nonetheless.

“The God Fairies are a special elite force of apprentices under my supervision. It’s composed of fairies deemed problematic by the standards of our society and utilizes their uniqueness to serve our realm for the better good.”

You wanted to scoff. Rather than an elite force, it sounded like a group of slaves forced to listen to the Grand Elder, with an even more severe punishment dangling above their heads. A suiting sentence disguised as an honor.

“I know what you’re thinking, young (Y/N),” Grand Elder Nezu says with a knowing look. “However, this elite force is infinitely more important than any other group in the fairy realm, as they help sustain our influence over the humans.”

Confused, you look up to him, a million questions dancing within your eyes. Influence over humans? What exactly did he mean by that? Back at the academy, the older fairies had always taught you that humans and fairies never, under any circumstance, interacted with each other. It was forbidden. Interacting with humans was too dangerous as they were greedy and vile beings who would only seize magic for their own selfish gain should they even catch one whiff of it.

Magic was not meant to fall into human hands. That was just the way the world worked. So why was the Grand Elder telling you otherwise?

“The God Fairies help ensure that the humans’ belief in magic remains strong,” Grand Elder Nezu continues, even though you were still trying to comprehend what he had said prior. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Being the Grand Elder had numerous responsibilities involved, and those responsibilities waited for no one, not even him.

“You see, young (Y/N), as the years have passed, we, the council, have come across an alarming discovery,” you look up to the council tentatively, choosing to merely listen as trying to process their words in real time was proving to be complicated. “The tree of life that we have grown to cherish for over a millennium has weakened.”

A soft gasp leaves your lips, and rightfully so. The tree of life was the lifeline of the fairies. It was literally their world, giving life to everything they had ever come to know. The tree of life was what made fairies, fairies, providing them with their gorgeous translucent wings and copious amount of magic to have every other supernatural being out there jealous.

If it were to weaken and somehow die, then that would mean the end of the fairies. And that was a thought even more terrifying than the prospect of banishment.

“Fear not, young (Y/N),” This time, Elder Yagi decides to speak up, sensing the inherent panic and fear in your eyes. Elder Yagi always had a knack for reading your emotions, much like Hitoshi. Sometimes you wondered if that chalked up to you wearing your heart on your sleeve for everyone else to easily trample over, but that hadn’t been the case the more you got to know Elder Yagi and Hitoshi.

They both took your heart within their arms and cherished it like it was their own, even if the way they showed that care differed and was sometimes unnoticeable. Elder Yagi’s words, masked by his usual patriotic smile, were his way of comforting you when the going got rough. And for that, you would forever be thankful.

“We’ve discovered a new way to harness the magic we fairies so desperately need,” Elder Yagi continues, his smile never leaving. “And that solution lies in the humans.”

The moment the word human leaves Elder Yagi’s mouth, Elder Aizawa sneers in disgust, rolling his eyes, and from the opposite side of him, you can see Elder Sekijiro do the same. It wasn’t something new. After all, with the divide and disdain of the fairies towards fellow fae who wouldn’t live up to their noble standards, their disgust was only further amplified with the knowledge that other inferior beings, such as humans, existed. Even with their inferiority, they were beginning to push the fairies to the brink of a calamity with how much they were destroying the order of nature.

So you understood that there was an even greater prejudice towards humans, and you could feel nothing but sympathy and agony, knowing precisely what it feels like to be on the receiving end of such animosity.

“The humans,” Elder Yagi continues, not paying much mind to the disheartened expressions on his fellow elders’ (with the exception of the Grand Elder) faces. “Surprisingly, have an innate source of magic within them, much different from our own.”

Confused, you look up at the kind elder, allowing yourself to show a little emotion with the way he looks down kindly at you as if he were a father talking towards his child. Elder Yagi had always guided you when you felt lost amidst the noble fairies that served under the council and was more than happy to help you with whatever you needed.

Yet, currently, Elder Yagi was the main source of your confusion.

“When a human begins to believe in the supernatural, their innate magic ability awakens and pours out of them like waves, and when they sustain that belief? That innate magic becomes stronger.” It’s a revolutionary discovery, in your eyes. Humans had always been thought of as useless. But more than that, the council had constantly reminded the fairies to stray away from them, as no one knows what hidden malice the humans could have, despite the disbelief of your fellow fae.

“This is why we have formed the God Fairies, to ensure that the humans’ magic will be sustained and harnessed for our survival.” Elder Yagi looks at you, and you feel yourself flinch at the serious glance on his face, something that you knew wasn’t usual for the strong fairy. “Do you understand, young (Y/N)?”

The only thing you have the courage to do at the moment is nod, not trusting the thoughts that were lit ablaze in your mind, chaotic and unhinged. You knew that if you were to speak, your words would have most likely enraged the council as you currently had no control over them.

“Good.” Grand Elder Nezu says after a few moments of silence. “In line with this, we will be assigning you, young (Y/N), to a human. Your punishment, or in this case, mission is to ensure that you’ve collected enough magic to sustain a family of fairies the same size as Young Neito’s.”

Your eyes widen, and you divert your attention towards Elder Yagi, begging him to say that the Grand Elder’s words were not true. But when you see Elder Aizawa sport a sinister grin from the corner of your eye, you feel your heart sink. As much as you hated Neito, he was a powerful fairy who came from a highly influential family within the realm. It was the reason why he was in the vanguard. After all, his family’s influence has been his threshold throughout the days you knew each other.

And for a family as prominent in magical combat as his, they needed copious amounts of magic. An amount that you were sure couldn’t be collected by one fairy. In fact, the powerful fairies of the realm often sourced their innate magic directly from the elders themselves, a privilege that not many were able to enjoy.

This was a punishment, after all. Great. Just Great.

“I understand, Grand Elder,” you say after finally composing yourself. You can feel the dread gradually sink in, and your mind races with worry at the thought of having to go through the daunting task. “I will do as you desire. For the glory of the fae.”

You can sense the satisfied yet cunning smiles of the council, pleased with your decision, and you heave a sigh, unsure of what the future could have in store.

You could only hope that you wouldn’t be screwed over in the process.

The human realm was fascinating, to say the least.

When you first stepped foot on the lush forest of the realm, just on the outskirts of a bustling city, you couldn’t help but feel amazed. No amount of preparation from the elders or your friends could truly prepare you for this moment.

For the past few weeks, Grand Elder Nezu and Elder Yagi had been preparing you extensively for this mission. They briefed you on the does and don’ts of a fairy entering the human realm, bragged about other god fairies who had succeeded in securing a sustainable amount of magic for the fairies, and just boasted.

There was no comfort nor reassurance from either elder, which you had expected from Elder Yagi, but as you had come to find out, it seemed as if your father figure was still disappointed in you, causing your heart to sink. Did he really believe that you deserved to be punished?

You couldn’t even get this heavy feeling out of your chest. The worst part is that you couldn’t consult your best friend, Hitoshi, at all about this matter. Hitoshi had no knowledge of the god fairies as he had been a devout apprentice under Elder Aizawa’s care. He had no reason to know about it, he was already doing great, and that thought made your stomach churn.

You desperately wanted to confide in him, to spill your fears and anxieties for him to hear. No matter how insufferable Hitoshi was, he was a great listener and a great friend.

Gosh, you haven’t even spent one second in the Human Realm, and you were already feeling sick to your core.

At least the view made it better.

The council of elders had decided to assign you to a human living in the Musutafu Empire, nestled in the far east of the mortal realm. The Empire was drastically different from your own simple abode back in the fairy realm. Whereas yours was deeply rooted in nature, theirs was thriving on industrial roots.

You couldn’t explain it, but the way they structured their buildings and houses was beautiful. It was a whole different style from what you were used to back home, with high walls and rowdy streets. The people were smiling, clad in clothing that was tight yet loose at the same time, with a ribbon wrapped securely around their waists. Far different from the flowy garments that you had back in the fairy realm.

As you made your way to the capital, marveling at all the new sights that were capturing your eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder what the human assigned to you was like. Would he be stuck up like all the fairies you had come to know? Or would he be kind, much like Elder Yagi and Hitoshi were? The curiosity burned deep inside you, and you found yourself brimming with excitement at the thought of meeting him.

Your mission was fairly simple if you could take away the fact that you had to harvest an impossible amount of magic. You were to watch over a selected human, who the council deemed had the potential to unlock their innate magic and help them when they most needed it.

Almost as if you were someone who granted wishes, was what Grand Elder Nezu said. Granting wishes was the most effective way to strengthen the human’s belief in magic, allowing their own to flow out for the taking. Of course, there were other ways, such as haunting the humans or causing supernatural disasters that didn’t make sense. But such methods were unbecoming of fairies, and you couldn’t help but groan at the thought.

Haunting seemed fun, after all. Almost as if you were constantly playing a prank on an unassuming human. You would have killed for that to be your punishment instead.

But no. You were stuck with granting wishes, albeit not as often, as showing too much magic mind taint the human with greed and desire. Something that no fairy wanted.

Checking on the special compass that the elders had given you prior to your journey, you make your way towards your assigned human, gaping in awe at the view of the capital down below you. Of course, with the magic you held, they wouldn’t be able to see you as you had concealed yourself prior, but you wished they could. It would have been fun to see their shell-shocked expressions. Maybe that was a more efficient way of harnessing their magic?

Or, rather than being an efficient method, it was most likely going to be a one-way ticket to banishment from the fairy realm, aka an express ride towards death, something you wanted to avoid at all costs.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you spot the house of the human the elders had assigned to you. It was big, much larger than your own humble cottage back in the fairy realm, yet, even so, it didn’t compare to the ginormous estates that lay north of the house, almost as if it belonged perfectly in the middle.

You gasped at the tranquility of the mansion, almost as if you had once again been transported into another world. It was almost as if in this home, time stopped, and peace overflowed. You perched yourself atop a sturdy branch, looking around and admiring the view.

But peace doesn’t last for long because all of a sudden, a slam rings through the air, and you watch curiously as a large man, who oddly enough looks similar to Elder Sekijiro, although that was probably a figment of your imagination, there was no way the frightening elder would actually be in the human realm, stumbles into view.

The large man looked pissed, you noticed, as he dragged something behind him, and it’s only till the large man threw whatever he was carrying harshly unto the tree you were perched on did you realize that what the man had dragged wasn’t just a thing, but rather it was a person.

You gasp, heart breaking at the sight of the young boy. From where you sat above him, you could tell that he was covered with bruises all over, with a ghastly scar covering one of his eyes. The poor boy looked so weak and frail that you wanted nothing more than to steal the boy away and tend to him until he could stand on his own two feet one more. It was cruel. Was this the doing of that man?

You look up, and it’s only then that you notice a few more children looking at the scene below you with different expressions on their faces. There were about three of them; two boys and one girl. The tallest and assumably the eldest had an unbothered look on his face as if he couldn’t care less about the poor boy who had just been thrown into a three. The second boy, with snow-white hair, sported a sadistic grin as if he were enjoying seeing the young boy in pain. And the girl? The girl, who looked so sweet and innocent, held eyes of pure disgust as she clutched her teddy bear tighter to her chest, almost as if she were glaring at the young boy.

Was this the kid’s family?

“Shoto!” The large man, whom you had deduced to be the father, screamed. You flinch at the loudness of his voice, intimidation flowing out of him in waves, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You look down, heart hurting at the sight of the young boy cowering in fear, but he still kept a brave face. Well, as much as he could do in that situation.

“You dare disobey your brother?” He continues, tone raising more and more as his fists clench. “How many times have I told you to listen to your siblings? They’re much older, stronger, and smarter than a little piece of shit like you. Heck, even Fuyumi, who’s a girl, is much more dignified than your pathetic ass!”

The more words fell from the man’s mouth, the more you wished to hex him with forbidden magic. Although doing so would only make your punishment worse. The elders were strict about black magic, after all. Anyone who even showed a little bit of interest was considered a threat and was sent to conduct punishments almost immediately. It was cruel, but you were on wit’s end because nowhere had you seen a vile man like him.

“It’s true, father!” The second sibling says, the sinister grin on his lips only growing. “I had asked Shoto nicely to help with my chores because I wanted to get more practice in for the royal knights’ examination, but he had the audacity to retaliate with the excuse that he already had chores to do.” The kid scoffs, rolling his eyes in the process. “He barely does anything in this house, yet he’s a burden to those of us who actually are? Father, he deserves punishment!”

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach as if you were getting deja vu from this situation. The look on that kid’s face painfully reminded you of Neito, and you couldn’t help the gut feeling that made you believe that what the kid was saying was far from the truth.

“Shameful!” The father says, raising a hand to slap the young child to the side, and you gasp in horror wanting nothing more to interfere, yet the Grand Elder’s words ring harshly in your ear. There needs to be a balance. He had said. It would plunge the realms into total chaos if more than one human discovered the reality of magic simultaneously, especially those with foul intentions.

You couldn’t reveal yourself, not yet, at least. Yet, at the same time, you wanted to curse the elders back home, for they had assigned to you a child who was literally experiencing hell on earth and only gave you limited movement to help.

You watch, feeling the tears threaten to fall as the damn bastard of a father lands another punch towards his son, to the point where he begins to cough blood. Your eyes widen in horror as you hear the other children’s cheers. Why were they like this? Weren’t they family? Why were they treating one of their own like he wasn’t? He didn’t deserve this. He was only but a child!

When the father was finally finished with his rain of terror, you couldn’t help but release the breath you were holding in. Finally, it was over. But as if he couldn’t get any worse, the father towers over him, blue eyes boring into his kids. “If I see any of these bruises and wounds healed,” he whispers just enough for only Shoto to hear, but with your heightened senses, you couldn’t help but listen in. “Then you will get a beating far worse than this one. Do you understand?”

The kid nods weakly, not having the strength to communicate properly, causing the father to glare at him harder. “You are a disgrace to the Todoroki name, Shoto. Never forget that.”

And just like that, he leaves, the children following closely behind with mocking looks on their faces. The second sibling even goes so far as to spit on his youngest brother, causing you to clench your fists in anger, wanting to teach that kid a lesson. What kind of twisted personality did he have? Why was he treating his family like this? You just couldn’t understand.

When they finally leave, leaving the young kid on the rough ground, wallowing in his misery and pain, you find it in yourself to come down and take action. What action, you may ask? You weren’t quite sure yourself, but every fiber in your being was begging you to do something to help the poor child.

You kneel beside the beaten-up boy, weaving your hand through his dirtied hair. The boy looked like he hadn’t even been given an ounce of care throughout his life. How could this be? Wasn’t a family supposed to love each other? But you knew yourself that not all families were like that, only the lucky ones.

The world, no matter what realm you were in, was cruel and cold to those who didn’t fit in, to those that made them feel sick. Within your heart, you knew exactly what the young child was feeling, although only to a certain extent as it could never compare to the feeling of getting beaten up by the people you were supposed to love on a day-to-day basis.

But you too had been abandoned, you too had been ridiculed, and you knew how much that pain could carry through the rest of one’s life. The pain never truly goes away. It would only get buried, waiting for the moment it could come back to life. And if that pain was prolonged? Then that would only make things worse.

So you decided, with a firm grip on your heart, that until you had to leave, you would be there for this child. More than punishment, more than a duty you had to fulfill, you would be there for him until the very end.

That was a promise.

Todoroki Shoto had never known love.

For as long as he could remember, ever since the day he was born, his family had hated him. For what reason? He couldn’t quite comprehend, but now that he was a bit older, he understood to some extent.

His birth had caused his mother to die.

It was something that his family reminded him of every day. Whenever his brother, Natsuo, forced him to do his share of chores, he would always add in a snarky remark saying how it was the least he could do since he took his mother away from him. It hurt, but he couldn’t argue. It was the truth, after all. Him being born into the world had caused their own mother to leave it. It was only natural for his family to hate him.

From what he had heard, his mother was a very kind woman. With the same snow-white hair that covered half of his head, Todoroki Rei was known to be an angel. She was kind, always selflessly showing her love, and in turn, everyone loved her for it. She was the life of the party, even though she was frail, and never failed to make everyone around her smile. She was what one would consider the embodiment of good.

And Shoto had taken her away from them.

Everyone in the Todoroki household hated him, even the servants. How dare a useless child like him take away their mistress? How dare he live on as if nothing was wrong when he was the very reason that the light of the Todoroki household dimmed out. He was a despicable child in the eyes of everyone else, one that never deserved love.

So they fed him moldy bread and spoiled milk, rotten fruits, and water that was clearly full of filth. They wanted him to die, to pay for taking their mistress away from them. And no one in his family ever stood up for him.

His eldest brother Touya never even spoke to him. It was as if he was actively trying to ignore the kid. Whenever Shoto went up to talk to his brother, he would simply pass him by as if Shoto didn’t even exist. Yet whenever Shoto would catch peeks of the family eating a nice supper over the dinner table, his brother was actively engaging in conversation, causing an arrow to go through his heart at the realization that Touya truly did intend to ignore him.

His second brother, Natsuo, was no better. The only difference was that he actively tried to make Shoto’s life a living hell more than it already was. Natsuo took all his anger and grief out on the young child with snarky remarks and condescending tones. There was even a slap on the cheek every now and then, to which he would complain that it was Shoto who assaulted him, even though it was far from the truth. And everyone would believe him. Because who would believe the words of a child whose birth meant the death of another?

Then there was Fuyumi, his only sister. She sported that same gentle nature as his mother, according to the house servants, yet to Shoto, she was a wicked and cruel child. She was petty, treating Shoto as if he were a slave. When her favorite tea was too hot for her liking, she spilled the scalding hot drink all over him, soon after berating and slapping him for letting the said liquid fall onto her plush carpet. It made no sense, but Shoto could never complain. Fuyumi was the darling of the family, after all.

But his father? He was the worst of them all.

Todoroki Enji was a curious man, to say the least. As one of the leading figures of the oldest families of the Musutafu Empire, his very presence brought tremendous waves of awe among the masses. The Todoroki family was one of the most revered families in the whole empire, and everyone had always looked up to them, seeing them as the perfect family.

But Todoroki Enji had taken that image of perfection into heart, and it showed through the things he did behind closed doors. Rei’s death hit him the hardest, not because he was heartbroken that his other half died, but rather it was because that image of perfection had been broken into pieces, and he loathed it. He hated the pitiful gazes of the masses, as they stared at him as if he wasn’t the perfect being they needed him to be. It enraged him to no end. And the only outlet of this burning rage was the cause of all this brokenness, his own son.

Everything Shoto did angered him. Even taking a breath angered him. Every action, look, and word that came from the young child infuriated the head of the house, and he couldn’t help but take it out on him. Treating Shoto like he wasn’t a child but rather an enemy on the battlefield. Every day he would ruthlessly beat Shoto up until he felt satisfied, leaving Shoto battered and bruised with no chance of recovery. It was terrible, something anyone with a heart would hate, yet all those who resided in the Todoroki Mansion thrived on his misery.

So yeah, all his life, Todoroki Shoto had never known love.

But when he feels a hand gently caress his face, brushing his dirtied hair off of his face and running a thumb over his bruising cheek, he wonders if maybe this was it. Whoever was touching him had such a gentle and soft touch, a touch that he’s never felt before in his life. It was warm, far different from the cold caresses of his family. He wanted nothing more than to stay in the comfort of this warmth. But what if this was just a figment of his imagination?

He opens his eyes slowly, bearing through the pain and heaviness that came with it, and his gaze meets yours, and he’s blown away.

Your eyes look at him with sincere kindness, one that Shoto has never seen before in his life. He’s only been alive for a few years or so, and he can tell that this was what was right. Not his family, not the servants treating him with extreme hostility. No, you, a stranger he had never seen in his entire life, was already treating him way better than the whole world would ever treat him. And it had only been a few seconds since his eyes met yours.

“W-who…” he stutters, blinking wearily as if he wanted to get a closer look, but you shush him with gentle whispers, continuing to weave your hands through his dual-colored hair that looked stunning under the sunlight, even if it was smeared to no end.

“Shh, don’t speak, child,” you say, motherly instincts that you were unaware of surfacing. “You are injured. Speaking will only make it worse.”

Shoto nods, staying silent as you continue to run your fingers through his hair. Suddenly a surge of warmth rushes through his body, and he watches amazed as the pain from his father’s beating slowly goes away, even if the bruises didn’t disappear.

“There, that should do the trick!” You say, smiling brightly and voice cheery in an attempt to console the young child. Shoto slowly sits up from where he laid on the hard ground, looking at his hands in awe. How did you do that? How did you make all the pain disappear?

“I apologize,” you say, looking sheepishly at Shoto once you noticed he was staring at his arms in awe. “Your father mentioned that he would hurt you even more if your injuries are healed, so I’m only able to make the physical pain go away, but the wounds remain. I hope that’s alright.”

It’s more than alright, Shoto thinks to himself as he looks at you in awe. Shoto had never felt this alive before. It was as if his energy was restored and multiplied as if the numbness that had accumulated from the years of beating had vanished without a trace.

“Thank you,” he finally says, not having the courage to spill his heart out in fear that you would take his feelings and crush them in the blink of an eye. If Shoto were to be honest, if anyone else aside from the people he had come to know were to berate him more than he already was on a daily basis, then he would truly crumble.

“But… who are you?” He asks, finally coming to his senses. “Why are you here? It’s dangerous. If father finds out, then you—”

“—Do not worry child, I will be fine.” You’re doing better than expected despite the rapid beating of your heart from how nervous you were. You really hated this motherly image you were exuding, wanting nothing more than to be as carefree as you usually were, but first impressions were important, and you had to time things just right.

You smile, looking at Shoto with the kindest gaze you could muster, patting him gently on the head in the process.

“I’m your fairy godmother, after all.”

“F-fairy g-godmother?” Shoto asks, clearly confused. You giggle at his perplexed expression, amused. It was fascinating how the child still seemed to be as innocent despite the harsh realities he had been through. He was a strong human, you supposed. And quite an adorable one too.

“Yes, child,” you say once more, standing up and bringing Shoto up with you, although he stumbles, legs weak from being on the ground for too long, but you’re quick to catch him, giggling once more at the flustered expression on his face.

“I’m your fairy godmother,” you repeat, lines poised and precise like you had been trained to from the Grand Elder. “And as your fairy godmother, I’ll be here to make sure that your pain will be more bearable until you can fly free on your own.”

“Fly?” The young child asks excitedly, eyes beaming. “Will I be able to fly someday?”

“Not in the literal sense, child.” You giggle, the tiny human bringing the weight of the world off your shoulders. It was refreshing to interact with him. Perhaps this was why parents decide to have children. They were oh so loveable when they were young. You could only hope that the pureness of his heart wouldn’t be tainted even further by the harsh reality of his family’s disdain.

“But you’ll understand what I mean very soon,” you say, kneeling down towards his level. “And until then, I’ll be your wings, alright?”

It’s clear that Shoto doesn’t understand a word you’re saying, but that’s alright. He doesn’t need to understand at the moment. He just needs to believe. And from the pure amazement and wonder in his eyes, it looks as if he’s already on a one-way track towards it.

“Now, child, before I send you off, you must remember something very important.” You say, tone a bit sterner as Shoto gulps, nodding his head and turning his full attention towards you. His concerned and slightly worried look on his face makes you want to break your facade and laugh along with him. But this truly was an important matter, and if you didn’t drill it into his brain, then your mission would have been all for naught.

“Under no circumstance, must you tell of my existence to another soul, do you understand?” There’s uncertainty in the child’s gaze as if he doesn’t truly understand the weight of your words, but he nods nonetheless, agreeing. “Not your father,” you continue, hoping to make your point a bit clearer. “Nor your siblings, nor any stranger that you come across. You can’t reveal my existence to anyone, understand? This is a secret between you and me. Can you keep it?”

A beat of silence passes the two of you as Shoto lets the words sink in. He truly doesn’t understand why he can’t tell anyone else about you. It didn’t make sense to him. Weren’t you supposed to make his pain more bearable? Then why couldn’t you do that in the form of mending his relationship with his family? It saddened Shoto because in the few moments you had spent together, in those few minutes he got to know you, Shoto already considered you a friend. His first friend, in fact.

Why couldn’t he show you off?

Maybe it had to do with the fact that you, too, would get punished by his father if he were to reveal your existence. His father was a terrifying man. If he wanted something, then he would get it, no matter how difficult it was to obtain. His father held himself in high regard. And anyone who didn’t fit his standards was considered worthless and useless. If he were to find out that you were associated with him, the failure of the family, then who knows what his father would do to you?

He wouldn’t allow that. He couldn’t allow that. You were the first person to show him kindness, and he couldn’t just let you slip away. That would break him to the point of no return.

“Sure,” Shoto mumbles shyly, a bashful smile forming on his lips. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t have guessed that this child was frequently beaten up by his family, much less hated by them. He seemed like a great kid, who needed a friend to stand by him, and although Grand Elder Nezu and Elder Yagi had strictly advised you against being too attached to your assigned human, you couldn’t help it.

Who were you to ignore such a loveable child?

You smile, the sternness gradually leaving your face, and raise your hand towards him, pinky pointing out. “Promise?” Shoto looks at you before his eyes dart to your outstretched finger, bewildered and unsure.

“This is a pinky promise,” you say, realizing that he didn’t understand what you were trying to do. “When we link our pinkies together like this,” you continue, intertwining your pinky with his and locking them together. “Then that means our promise is sealed in stone and can never ever be broken.”

You give Shoto a small smile, your other hand reaching out to pat his head gently, while Shoto looks at your intertwined pinkies in awe and admiration.

In his haze, you finally stand up, your heightened senses hearing angered footsteps approaching, and you look worriedly at Shoto, hesitant to leave.

“I have to go now,” you say, heartbreaking at the way his expression falls from his face, replaced with a disappointed one.

“But don’t worry, I’ll be back.” You’re quick to reassure him, waving your hands frantically as you give off a sheepish smile. “I’ll be back when you need me the most,” you clarify, panic rushing in as the hurried footsteps become louder.

“Promise?” Shoto asks, stretching out his own pinky to you, reflecting what you had just taught him. This catches you by surprise, but you’re quick to smile, intertwining your pinkies once more.

“I promise,” you genuinely whisper, watching with mirth in your heart as Shoto looks up at you with a warm smile of his own, eyes looking at you tenderly as if he were sending you off.

And just like that, you vanish, much to Shoto’s shock, as the sliding door behind him slams open, and a servant comes out storming towards him angrily. But honestly, Shoto couldn’t care less.

Even as the servant berated him and dragged him harshly back into the mansion, Shoto couldn’t help but feel all warm and giddy inside. He had made his first friend.

And that was more than anything he could ever ask for.

Ever since your first meeting with Shoto, you had begun to grow closer towards the abused child, feeling a connection start to grow.

Of course, you didn’t show yourself to him as often as you wanted to, as you had your own limitations. Because as the council had told you before your departure, they were watching. And that was a frightening thought to ever take for granted.

It was too risky to put your personal desires over your duty at the forefront, so you had to work your way around the rules laid down by the Grand Elder. You had to be sharp, had to show your support and friendship in other more mundane ways so Shoto would continue to believe.

You were still a fairy on a mission, after all.

Harnessing magic wasn’t a one-time thing. If it were, then the council would have easily done it by now. The truth of the matter was that cultivating the magic out of humans required time, effort, and care— a feat that was far too tedious for the council to partake in, which was why it was up to the God fairies to carry it out.

As the relationship between a god fairy and their assigned human continued to grow, so would the amount of magic present within the human. Once it got to its breaking point, then the god fairy would immediately harness it, marking the end of their relationship and causing the human to never believe in magic again.

It was a cruel process but one you couldn’t avoid as it meant your life or death. But the more time you spend with Shoto, the more your resolve seems to break, and you begin to question whether or not you could actually pull through with what you were meant to do.

The door slides open, snapping you away from your train of thought, and in walks Shoto, a new bruise forming over his right eye.

Even if you couldn’t show yourself on a daily basis, you still made your presence known to Shoto through small acts of magic, ones that wouldn’t be considered overboard by the Grand Elder. You would have followed Shoto everywhere he went, watching his every move and ensuring that he was safe, but in a way, it made you uncomfortable.

And you couldn’t stand seeing the way his family and servants treated him. It was too cruel. You were sure that if you spent any second longer seeing his siblings ridicule him or his father punch him, then you would lose control. And everything that you had worked desperately for would have gone to waste, which was why you distanced yourself from the young child whenever he was around others. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. It was for the best; you tried to convince yourself. You were doing the right thing.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t help him at all. As Shoto quickly makes his way to his worn-out futon, wincing in pain at all the bruises his father had given him from the day’s beating, you couldn’t help but fuss over him, immediately reaching out to take the pain away in your invisible state, external wounds remaining.

“Fairy Godmother?” Shoto calls out weakly, feeling the pain leave him gradually as warmth replaces it. His eyes feel lighter, and he finally works the courage to open them fully, only to be met with his dark room. You were still invisible. You hadn’t shown yourself just yet. “Are you there?”

You wanted to respond. You desperately do. But the weight of your duty weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you hesitate, unsure whether or not you would reach out to him. You two were close, that was for sure. Throughout the few months of your ‘friendship’ with Shoto (if you could call it that), you had come to know just how precious the child truly was. Even after all the hardships and suffering that overcame him, he was still bright and innocent, something you never entirely understood, but you supposed that was what made Shoto… Shoto.

“Fairy Godmother?” Shoto calls out again, this time a little more desperate. His eyes dart around, trying to find you, but you were nowhere to be seen. All he wanted was to see you again. Sure, you had in some way, shape, and form always made your presence known through your kind acts, but it didn’t feel complete. It was as if Shoto was talking to a ghost, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to speak to his friend, the one person who made him see the light in what seemed like a never-ending darkness.

“Please,” he whispers like a prayer, hoping that you would show yourself. “Are you there?”

You couldn’t take it. This was torture to you. You knew you would get reprimanded either way, but as a fairy tasked with the responsibility of taking care of this child, you had to do it. He was practically crying out at this point. What kind of soul wouldn’t help him?

“I am here, Shoto,” you say, finally revealing yourself, and you feel yourself wince at the tears of relief that slip past the young child’s eyes. “I am here.”

Almost immediately, Shoto lunges at you, wrapping you in the tightest embrace he could muster. Was this real? He thought to himself. Were you actually here? This wasn’t a dream, right? What if you left him for good? He didn’t think his heart could handle that.

“You’re here!” He whispers, nuzzling into your stomach, giggling. “You’re actually here!” How could a child be so precious? You wonder to yourself. He was so innocent and pure. Why was his family hurting him like he wasn’t? From the time you had come to know Shoto, you could tell that he was a kind soul. He didn’t deserve any of the pain inflicted by his family. He deserved nothing but love and happiness. You just wished you had the authority to give it to him.

But alas, even with your freedom came chains that sought to bind you to the harsh realities of the world.

“Yes, I am, Shoto,” you giggle, running your hand soothingly through his hair, knowing how much comfort it brought the young child. “What is it that you need?”

“Nothing really,” Shoto replies after a while, merely basking in your warmth for as long as he could. “I just wanted to see you again.”

If Shoto were, to be honest, he was afraid that you were merely a product of his own imagination. His family often mocked him for it, calling him delusional in every way they could. Delusional for thinking he was loved; Delusional for thinking he deserved to be loved, and more so delusional for thinking that he could actually receive love from his family.

He was raised to believe that in one way or another, he was delusional, so somewhere deep down inside him, he thought that maybe you were a product of his delusions too.

But here you were, smiling down at him with such tenderness and care that Shoto knew you were anything but a delusion. He smiles brightly, the pain from earlier slowly melting away in your presence, and he drags you with his little hands towards his small, worn-out mattress, encouraging you to sit.

You follow him, eyes frowning at the state of his mattress. This was no way to treat a human being. Even back in the fairy realm, although it was clear that many were not fond of you, they still gave you common courtesy and respect as any other living being should. What Shoto’s family was doing to him was horrible, and you wish you could bring him out of it.

“Could you tell me a story?” Shoto asks out of the blue, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. “A story?” You repeat, unsure if you heard him correctly. Shoto nods, moving to lift a part of his mattress off the ground to reveal a hidden pile of storybooks that you never knew existed.

“My father doesn’t let me read,” he whispers, fingers darting over the dusty covers. “Says I’m not worthy of it.” Your hands clenched into fists beside you as you tried not to let your anger show, but Shoto could feel it slowly dripping off you in waves. “It’s fine, though,” he says, trying to reassure you that he wasn’t as affected by it as he truly was. “I’m used to it….”

A beat of silence passes the two of you as you look at the solemn gaze on Shoto’s face as he continues to run his fingers through the cover of the worn book longingly. With a sigh, you gently take Shoto into your arms, catching the young boy by surprise.

“You don’t have to hide in front of me, you know?” You say, seemingly scolding the child, but your tone was light, a small smile making its way to your face. “Friends don’t hide things from each other.”

From where he sat in your lap, Shoto looks at you with a bewildered gaze on his face, as if he were mesmerized. You simply smile at him, taking the book gently from his arms and opening it to the first page.

“I’ll help you learn how to read,” you say, finally clearing up your actions. “Isn’t that what you truly want?”

Shoto doesn’t say anything, but you can tell from the tears that are about to fall from his eyes that this was indeed his genuine desire. It pained you. Reading was something many took for granted, but as you see the absolute joy on Shoto’s face as he brought his attention back to the book in excitement, you realize that this was a gift.

You had the power to help this child beyond magic. And that was something you would use to your advantage, no matter the consequence.

You just wished that you would have done a better job at keeping it lowkey. Because as you guide Shoto in reading the story he had picked for the night, You don’t notice the gap between his door and the wall, a result of Shoto not closing the door properly from his weakened state and as a result, a young girl was standing on the opposite side of the door, eyes widened in horror and disgust at the sight she was seeing.

This wasn’t going to go well.

The next few days, Shoto honestly felt like he was in bliss.

No matter how horribly his family and servants treated him, nothing could shake the happiness he felt within his heart. Perhaps it was amplified by the fact his father had left the mansion for a few days to attend to his duties in the royal palace. Although he still had to face harsh treatments from his siblings and the other servants, at least the beatings became scarce.

His family was much too cowardly to carry out the same severe beatings his father gave. Which meant that he could enjoy his time with you even more than he should.

He had just finished his chores, ones that the servants were supposed to do, but in their vanity, they forced him to do it, going beyond their status as mere servants and dropping all their responsibilities as a child, sporting faux innocence whenever Shoto had tried to bring it up to his family.

But when he did, his father only got angry, beating him for lying about such matters, insinuating how he was insulting him because it was Enji who handpicked those servants, meaning an insult to them was an insult to his father.

So Shoto learned to take everything in a stride. To just do whatever the servants wanted him to do otherwise, he would get an even more severe beating from his father, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs.

But that fear was a thing of the past, as at the moment, Shoto was happily skipping towards his room, excitedly thinking of what story his fairy godmother would teach him about today.

Truly, like her title, Shoto’s fairy godmother was a blessing sent from the heavens. She was kind, patient, and never berated Shoto for any mistake he made. She would never do that to him, she told him one day when he had asked. It was just too cruel.

So this was what kindness really felt like, Shoto realized once the words slipped from her mouth. Growing up, Shoto was taught that his family’s actions were one of kindness, with insults such as ‘you should be grateful father was kind enough to keep you in this house when you should have been thrown out into the street already.’ being thrown at him left and right.

He had always hated kindness because of that. His family’s kindness made him feel sick, made him want to curl up into a hole and die, yet his fairy godmother had shown him the light. His fairy godmother had shown him that kindness wasn’t supposed to make you feel horrible. It was supposed to make you happy. It was supposed to fill your heart with love and affection that you wanted to give back tenfold.

What his family was doing to him wasn’t kindness at all.

Even more so when he stopped in front of his room, confused to hear a commotion inside. His gut feeling told him to run away, to hide, and never show himself again. But he couldn’t. His room was his safe haven, the only place where he could truly escape from his harsh reality, and if something ever happened to it, then Shoto wouldn’t know what to do.

He hastily opens the door only to feel his blood run cold. There standing in his room were his father, Enji, and his sister, Fuyumi. The moment they heard the door open, his sister turned to him, fake tears in her eyes, ones that Shoto knew everyone believed. Because in their eyes, Shoto’s sister was innocent, even though he knew that she was a devil in disguise.

“There he is, father!” Fuyumi exclaimed, pointing towards him accusingly. “The thief!”

Thief? Shoto wondered to himself. Why was he a thief? As far as he knew, he hadn’t stolen anything from anyone, much less his sister. Why would she accuse him of being a thief?

But he didn’t get the chance to ponder on it deeply, with his father turning towards him with deep rage lacing his eyes. Why was his father here in the first place? Wasn’t he supposed to stay in the palace for a few more days?

“You imbecile!” His father rages, stomping towards him. Shoto whimpers trying to back away, but his father was bigger and stronger than he could ever be and caught up to him quickly, holding him by the collar of his rags and throwing him across the room harshly.

The impact causes immense pain to course through Shoto’s body, and he’s sure he could feel a rib or two of his break from the pressure. There was liquid running down his face, was that blood? Perhaps. He was in too much pain to process what was happening.

“First, you kill your mother,” His father says, slowly making his way towards him, intimidation falling off him in waves. “Second, you act like an entitled brat to everyone in this house,” his words make Shoto flinch, knowing in his heart that none of his words were true. “And third,” Shoto’s father says as he finally stands in front of him, eyes glaring into his with severe malice. “You dare steal something extremely valuable from your sister? Have you no shame?”

With the little strength he could muster, Shoto looks up at his father, eyes weak and hazy. “Steal?” He whispers. “I didn’t steal anything….”

“Lies!” He hears his sister exclaim, sobbing hysterically. If Shoto didn’t know that his sister had two sides, he would have believed that she was genuinely upset. But that wasn’t the case. She was making things up. And this time, her act might actually cost his life.

“You stole the storybooks I got from mother!” She accuses, holding her teddy bear tighter to her chest, hateful eyes glaring into his.

Storybooks? Shoto asks to himself, eyes darting around only to find the pile of storybooks on the ground— the same ones you read to him every night. A fire burns inside him, something that Shoto had never felt before. The audacity his sister had.

“Y-you,” he stutters, coughing from the pain. “You threw them away! I don’t steal them. I found them in the garbage!”

“That’s not true!” His sister fights back, and Shoto can see the way her eyes dart around in shock, not expecting him to actually speak up. “Why would I throw away something I received from mother?”

Shoto was about to retort, but suddenly, a harsh sound rang through the room, and Shoto feels an excruciatingly painful sting on his cheek. His father had slapped him hard.

“How dare you,” he says, voice low, concealing the pure unadulterated rage that was about to burst forth. “How dare you take our kindness for granted, you son of a bitch.”

“We clothed you. We gave you shelter and food, and this is how you repay us?” He spats, hands clenched into fists. “After everything you’ve done to our family, you continue to disgrace our family name? What a despicable child you are.”

Pushing Shoto down to the floor, Enji raises his hand, ready to land a punch. “Shameful.” He lands a blow. “Disgusting.” He lands another. “Thief.” This time his father hits his broken ribs, causing Shoto to cry out in even more pain. “Murderer.”

Tears fall from Shoto’s eyes as the pain continues to flow through him, bursting through every punch. Was he really a murderer? Was he really that bad of a child? If so, why did they make him stay? Why couldn’t they put him out of his misery?

He wished his fairy godmother was here. She would probably make things better than they were now. She would make all the pain go away and then pat his head like she always did as she read him another story. He had never been as happy as he was whenever she read to him. But who knew that happiness came at an awful price?

Fairy Godmother, Shoto prayed in his mind as his father continued to beat him, letting out all his anger onto his body. Where are you? He was sure he looked like a mess, probably not even human anymore. But he couldn’t care less. He just wanted his fairy godmother by his side.

She said she would be there when he needed it most, didn’t she?

Suddenly the pain stops, and all Shoto feels is numb. He opens his eyes to the best ability, only to see his father stop midair with someone’s hand holding into his arm. He turns to the side, wincing in pain, yet it’s worth it because he finally sees the person he’s been waiting for.

His fairy godmother had finally appeared.

“Who are you?” His father shouts, screaming at the fairy. Her face is hardened, eyes glaring back at him with such hatred that it could honestly mirror his father’s.

“None of your business,” she spats before forcefully throwing his father to the other side of the room, landing with a harsh thud.

She walks towards him, a menacing aura surrounding her, but just before she could approach Shoto’s father, his sister immediately runs to defend him, glaring with genuine tears in her eyes.

“Who are you?” She screams, shaking. “Why are you attacking father? Father has done nothing wrong! You should be attacking that… thing! He’s the bad one here.”

Her desperate cries leave a bitter hole in Shoto’s heart as he feels nothing but despair. He had always hoped that beneath all the harsh words of his family members, underneath all their cruel punishments and glaring eyes, they would still have room in their hearts to care for him, even just a little bit.

But no, they didn’t even see him as human. And that hurt way more than being called a murderer.

“First of all,” you say, voice ice-cold, causing shivers to run down everyone’s spine. “Shoto isn’t a thing. He’s a human being. He’s your brother. What kind of person are you for not even acknowledging that?”

“He killed my mother!” Shoto’s sister screams in protest, holding her ground. But her words only cause your gaze to harden as you grab her in the shoulders, and she shakes under your terrifying stare.

“Listen here, young lady,” your voice booms through the room. “Shoto didn’t kill anyone. Your mother’s death was not his fault. Just because you can’t accept the fact that your mother is not on this earth anymore doesn’t mean you can treat your brother like he’s the scum of the earth.”

His sister falls silent after that, not knowing what else to say. She sniffles, and as gently as you can, you push her to the side. She was still a child, after all. No matter how vain she was, she was only a year or two older than Shoto. And you were not one to inflict pain on children or anyone for that matter.

But this had gone too far. And you couldn’t find it within yourself to stand on the sidelines any longer.

“And you,” if possible, your voice becomes even more ominous as you approach Enji, who sat on the ground, groaning. In his weakened state, he glares at you, having the audacity to continue spewing nonsense from his mouth.

“Don’t you know who I am?” He threatens before you can continue to speak. “I am Todoroki Enji, the right-hand man of the Emperor of the Musutafu Empire! If his majesty were to find out of your crime, then he would—”

“—Punish you to the depths of hell.” You say, cutting him off. “I’m not a fool, Todoroki Enji. I know that the only reason you sheltered Shoto was so the Emperor wouldn’t find out your crimes. Otherwise, you would have thrown him onto the streets.”

Enji can feel his blood run cold, the truth hitting him like harsh waves the more they fall from your lips.

“The Emperor is a kind and just man, and if he were to ever find out that you were treating your child this way, then he wouldn’t hesitate to sentence you to death. You know that more than anyone.”

Silence befalls the room as everyone soaks your words in. Shoto doesn’t understand. What were you trying to say?

“You know better than to punish Shoto for killing his mother. He didn’t do anything wrong. Todoroki Rei was already weak and frail after giving birth to the little young miss over there, yet you still insisted that she bear you a child, and when she refused, you threatened her.”

A gasp falls from his sister’s lips as the gravity of your words swirls up into a tornado in Shoto’s mind. Was this true? Was he truly not to blame for all of this?

“Lies,” Enji mutters under his breath, low enough for only you to hear. You stay silent, allowing the man to form his thoughts, yet that proves to be fatal as after a beat of silence passes, the man glares at you, taking a broken piece of the wall and swinging it your way.

“Fairy Godmo—” Shoto calls, distressed and scared, but it proved to be for naught as in the blink of an eye, the heavy debris vanished, and you stood there, wand in hand, glaring once more at his father.

“What?!” His father exclaims, finally taking his stand. “How were you able to do that? That should have killed you!”

You smile, grin sinister and dark, far from the gentle warmth it usually portrayed. Shoto was scared. His brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening. But what he did know was that he didn’t like any of this one bit.

“Magic,” is all you say, lifting your wand to cast another spell. “Magic is what made me do this to you. And magic is how I’ll make sure that you suffer the same hell Shoto has gone through.”

Horror fills Enji’s eyes as you step closer. But just as you’re about to release your spell, the door opens, revealing Shoto’s second brother, Natsuo, whose eyes widened at the sight in front of him. On instinct, he grabs the wooden sword he had brought with him from his training and lunges at you just as your magic bursts forth, tackling you to the ground.

And a scream fills the air.

Everyone looks, startled at the sight. When the chaos finally comes clear, to the family’s dread and your glee, your spell had managed to affect Enji, but not in the way that you had hoped.

Instead of the core of his body, you had hit his eyes instead, a nasty scar forming over it, burning the flesh, and causing the man to tremble in pain.

Well, at least he would know what Shoto felt when he got his scar.

You stand up, dusting the dirt off your clothes as you make your way towards Shoto, ignoring his shell-shocked brother, who was staring at his father writhing in pain. You probably look like a mess at this point, totally different from how you usually appeared, but that was the least of your concerns.

You had to ensure Shoto was alright. He had gone through so much after all.

You couldn’t stand it. How could you stand watch when Shoto’s father was basically killing the poor child? Shoto who was pure and innocent. Shoto, whose only desire in life, was to read. He didn’t care for freedom or revenge. He just wanted to live normally.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to let his family trample over those dreams any longer.

You finally approach him, getting ready to kneel beside him and take him in your embrace so you could take the pain away. How much pain must he have gone through? You wonder. His body was battered and bruised, looking as if he was merely a shell of the child he once was. It was too cruel, and you could only hope that you’re magic would take even a bit of that pain away.

Because the child deserved to smile.

But just as you’re about to reach out towards him, a bright light shines through the room, and from that light comes a figure, one that causes your whole being to momentarily freeze in shock and fear.

Elder Yagi stood there in all his glory, robes and wings perfectly accentuating his features, truly presenting himself as the most powerful fairy in all the realm. His eyes were placed into a frown, and he stared directly at you, disappointment evident within him.

You had screwed up, and now you were going to pay the price.

“Young (Y/N),” His voice booms, loud and proud like how a fairy should be. “For breaking the Fairy Code by revealing the existence of magic to humans other than your godchild and for using said magic to unlawfully harm the human race, you are hereby sentenced to banishment from the fairy realm effective immediately.”

You stare at the elder you had come to know as a father, pleading with desperate eyes for him not to do this to you, but he pays no mind, waving his wand, causing binds to form and wrap around your body.

“No, please!” You scream in vain, begging. “At least let me heal Shoto. Let me do something for him!”

“You’ve already done enough!” Elder Yagi screams. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so angry, and it scares you. Where was the kind fairy you had come to know? Why was he acting like this? “The Council will take over.”

And light flashes once more through the broken room, and just like that, you’re gone, leaving Shoto behind.

Shoto blinks blearily, everything passing by in a blur. What had happened? What was happening? He wished he had the strength to get up and take a stand for himself, but he was quite literally beaten to a pulp. He can’t feel the strength in his arms anymore, and just that very thought scares him.

The only thing that comforts him is the soothing lullaby of darkness, trancing him into a sleepy state, and before he knows it, Shoto passes out.

Not knowing that from this point onwards, his life would change forever.

The light shines through the curtains, and Shoto wakes up, blinking.

He stretches his tired limbs and sits up, yawning. Why did he feel so tired? He’s never felt this weary before.

He gets out of bed, heading towards his bathroom, looking at the mirror. When he does, however, he’s suddenly flashed with a vision of him, beaten into a pulp and unable to stand up, and he gasps, but that vision slowly fades away, and Shoto’s regular reflection comes back.

What was that? Why did he look so… dead?

Surely that was a figment of his own imagination, right? Surely that was his mind playing tricks on him, right? Sure, his family did beat him from time to time, but they would never treat him that badly, right?

Shoto shivers, desperately shaking his thoughts away, as he slowly makes his way to the kitchen, hoping to snag some food while the servants aren’t looking.

On his way, however, he bumps into his father, who glares at him. Shoto looks to the ground in shame, not knowing why this particular meeting made him more frightened than usual. He should be used to his father’s beatings by now, but why did he feel so scared?

“You,” his father says, and Shoto halts at the menacing tone in his voice. “Look at me.” Shoto does as he asks, and looks up to his father, eyes widening at the sight of a ghastly scar mirroring his own on his father’s face.

Did he always have that scar?

His father stares at him as if he were examining him. For what reason, Shoto wasn’t quite sure, But it made him extremely uncomfortable, and he could only hope that his father would let him go soon.

“You should be grateful I’m in a good mood today, brat,” is all his father says, glaring harshly at Shoto. He doesn’t say anything more than that, choosing to leave towards the direction of the dining room, leaving Shoto behind in the hallway.

That was it? He asked himself. He wasn’t going to punch him? That was weird. But he paid it no mind. As his father said, it was his lucky day.

Yet as Shoto continued to head towards the kitchen, there was an itching feeling scratching the back of his head, telling Shoto that there was something wrong. That something was missing. It felt like there was a missing piece to the puzzle, which confused Shoto because, as far as he knew, everything was completely normal.

But he couldn’t ignore that thought. It nagged him throughout the day, telling him that this wasn’t right.

The problem was, Shoto had no idea what exactly was wrong.

#once.upon.an.au #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academy x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki shoto x you #shoto x you

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Pairing: doctor!Jungkook x reader (ok, technically clinical technician!Jungkook lol)

Wordcount: 1.6k

Genre/Rating: Fluff! strangers to friends to a lil’ more 👀👀

Tags/Warnings: mentions blood just for a moment (when talking about JK’s work). shouldn’t be anything too crazy, Jungkook is just your annoying new neighbor that sings abnoxiously loud in the shower. oh, and did I mention that the two of you share a wall?

a/n: You wonderful, beautiful people! This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click here to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! And THANK YOU @ezralia-writes for commissioning this! *insert round of applause and flowers* I hope you enjoy!

April 23rd

You should’ve known it was too good to be true.

You’d been living in utter bliss for the past six months, having moved across the city to a relatively quiet part of town. You had a neighbor; you were sure of it. Had seen their car in the parking lot too many times to not have one.

It’s just, you never heard them. Let alone saw them.

Which was completely fine. The loud, obnoxious lifestyle people usually adopted in a city as bustling as Seoul had never suited you anyway. For six months, you basked in the glorious silence from your next door neighbor. The only signal that you ever got that they were even there was the occasional time you’d both be showering at the same time. Your bathrooms shared a wall, which you tried to ignore. Thankfully, your neighbor seemed to ignore it as well.

So why is there a man suddenly belting out I Will Always Love You as though performing a one-man tribute to Whitney Houston?

The sound of his booming voice nearly knocked you off your feet as you made quick work of shaving your legs. Surely he must have heard your shower running! Can’t a woman get some peace and quiet on a Friday morning?! There’s nothing to celebrate yet!

You even make a point of clearing your throat loud enough to be heard on the other side of the wall, but he doesn’t falter in his loud, albeit dazzling, rendition of the song. He pauses for a second, giving you just enough time to let out a sigh of relief and begin on your other leg.

Leg soapy and ready to be shaved, you make it halfway through one swipe before the singing starts up again.

He only paused to switch songs. Whitney Houston tribute over, he begins a passionate ode to Adele’s greatest hits.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You sigh, resolving to finish up before the song is over and you’re subjected to another.

May 1st

It begins innocently enough. After a week of subjecting you to his siren-like voice, there’s a knock on your door. Of course, you assume it’s the food you’d ordered, so you just finish throwing your sweatshirt on before wrenching the door open.

“Hey,” you look up to tell the deliverer that you just need to grab your wallet, but your mouth runs dry at the sight before you.

Grinning with a friendly smile that might be a bit of overkill, a boy – nah, a whole man if we’re being honest here – gives you a sheepish wave. His long brown hair is falling into his eyes, which he meticulously brushes off to the side.

“Hey! You must be my neighbor!” When you keep staring at him with what you hope is a look of neutrality, he flushes a deep red. “I- er, I mean, obviously. That was kind of dumb of me…”

“You’re not the food guy?” It’s the only you can think to say, willing your eyes to focus in on his face and not the way his sweatshirt and sweats look on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah. Neighbors.”

The man before you lets out an adorable chuckle at your silly comment. “Oh, good. I’m not the only awkward one here.”

“Woah! I’m not awkward! I’m just hungry!” You cry out, making him only laugh harder.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he says, nose crinkling as you look at him with wide eyes. So this is what was on the other side of the wall, belting out Mariah Carey this morning. “I just moved in last week, and realized that I haven’t even come over to say hello. You know, like a friendly neighbor should.”

“Hey, Jungkook.” You look around, wondering if there’s anyone else outside witnessing this incredibly awkward first meeting. “I, uh, well…I’m me.”

He snorts. “Yeah, I know. I’m assuming your name is the one on the mailbox? Next to mine?”

We have mailboxes??

“Oh, ha! Yeah, that’d be it.” You shuffle back and forth on your feet, unsure of what to say next. “Well, I thought you were the delivery service-“

“I just delivered food, too!” Jungkook says with a grin. He runs his hands up and down his arms even though it’s not cold outside. “I was thinking that…you know, we could eat together? I actually ended up ordering extra, but it looks like that wasn’t necessary.”

You grin, settling against your doorframe. “Ah, so you’re here to woo me with takeout? You should’ve just said so.”

It looks like Jungkook’s considering moving again. He swallows thickly, eyes flitting over to you before staring down at your floor. “Actually…I heard you watching TV…were you watching Wanda Vision?” When you nod, he sucks in a breath. “It’s just, I haven’t bought a TV yet, and-“

“Oh, tough luck. Good luck with that.” You burst out into a fit of giggles at the tentative look in his eyes. Silently forgiving him for all those mornings that doubled as musicals over the past week, you wing the door open a little wider and gesture for him to come inside. “Come in, I need someone to bounce theories off anyways.”

That’s all it takes before Jungkook is bounding inside, settling down on your couch with an air of comfortability that seems so at odds with his shy nature. Then again, everything about him seems to contradict his shy smile.

You like it.

June 2nd

What originally started as a simple friendship; Jungkook brought food and you let him have the remote; quickly turned into constant interaction. You learned that he had a roommate that was hardly ever home named Taehyung. He has a brother that he visits every other month. He works as clinical technician, but he’s known more for his beautiful voice more than his title as doctor.

Apparently he was known in the lab for singing little lullabies to the glass flasks containing different samples of blood and other fluids, even occasionally chatting with them as though they were avidly listening.

The more you learned, the more you really wished your old neighbor never moved out in the first place. Especially as you slipped on some shoes to take out the trash one night only to run face first into a familiar chest.

“Jungkook,” you groan, rubbing your nose and peeking up at the boy-like grin he wears. “What was that for?“

You step around him, closing the door to your apartment and heading down the stairs to where the dumpsters were located. “My bad. I was just about to knock.”

He matches your stride, hair whipping about in the wind. You realize that he’s wearing his lab coat, making you furrow your brows. “Aren’t you supposed to leave that at the lab?” You ask, pointing to the white coat.

Jungkook pouts, looking down at his coat as though just remembering that he was still wearing it. “Oh, well I have to wash it, you know. I brought it home with me today.”

“Ok…but why are you still wearing it?” You give him a half-smile as he reaches to open the lid to the dumpster, allow you to throw your trash inside.

Jungkook blinks, as though this latest question completely threw him for a loop. “Uh…I thought it might help.”

“With what?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You think doctors are sexy, don’t you?”

“What?!” You choke out quite literally, beginning to cough. “Who- I never said that!”

Jungkook grins maliciously. “Yeah, but I heard you watching Grey’s Anatomy the other day. And it was on your recently watched.”

You begin to walk away, waving him off. “That doesn’t mean anything, Jungkook. So what? It’s just a show.”

Running ahead of you, Jungkook bounds up the first few steps before turning around to face you again, effectively cutting off your escape route. “Be honest. You don’t find them the least bit sexy? This coat does nothing for you?” He runs his hands down the lapels for emphasis.

You attempt to push past him. “What is even happening today?” Jungkook stops you in your tracks, hands on your upper arms and trapping you against the railing.

“I thought I might as well give myself a chance,” he mumbles, head tilted to one side as he takes in the way you’re staring up at him with utter confusion. “Don’t you wanna go out with a doctor?”

You blink slowly. “You…you’re setting me up with a doc-“

“Yah!” Jungkook groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many way do I have to say it? I want you to be the Wanda to my Vision!” “Jungkook, we’ve talked about this…” you sigh, hiding your laugh at his impatience. “They have a toxic relationship, why would I want that?”

“Don’t make me do this!” Jungkook whines, cheeks turning pink. “Just tell me yes or no!”

“To what?” You ask, feigning ignorance. “I don’t even know what you’re asking.”

“Nooo, you do,” Jungkook presses in closer as though that’ll help you understand. “I want you and I to…to…you know, I think we’d be good together.”

You frown. “Aren’t we together right now?”

“I swear-“ Jungkook takes a step back, sighing up at the sky. You snap your fingers, having a sudden epiphany.

“Oh, you mean together like we start singing duets in the morning through the wall?”

He blinks before bursting out into a fit of laughter. “I…yeah! Exactly!”

“No. But I will let you take me out on a date.” You give him a long look. “I’ve never been kissed by a doctor before, you know.”

Jungkook turns an impressive shade of red. “O-oh. You haven’t?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’. Turning to head up the stairs, you leave him in his shock. “Wonder what it’s like.”

Taking off in a run, you only get about a two second head start before Jungkook overtakes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close, wide eyes eating up every inch of your skin.

Tilting your chin up, he breathes out, “Well, why don’t we change that?”

masterlist

commission a request!

#jungkook x reader #doctor!jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x y/n #bts x reader #bts oneshot #jungkook oneshot #Jeon Jungkook x reader #doctor!bts #bts neighbor au #bts as your neighbors #jungkook neighbor au #armyadvocatesaapi

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ssson-of-sparda · 2 years

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WHAT FORTUNE GAVE - CHAPTER 4 (VERGIL X NERO’S MOTHER)

Summary: As Elissa, Adel and Agnus wander into the Mitis Forest to retrieve the Black Cornucopia, Vergil explores the ruins of an old church in search of information concerning his father. When a walk into the forest turns in a walk down memory lane.

(PROLOGUE) (MISSION 1) (MISSION 2) (MISSION 3)

Tags: Romance / Angst / Fluff / Explicit Sexual Content / Explicit Language / Canon-Typical Violence / Blood and Gore / Religion / The Order of The Sword / Civil War / Rebellion / Demons / Action and Adventure / Sparda’s past

Author’s note: I am aware this chapter is not the most action-packed one and that it focuses a lot on characters backgrounds and lores. But I felt like it was needed to understand the rest of the story and the characters' motivation. As usual, I'll be glad to know what you think about it.

It was a hot day, a summer-like day, too hot for this early spring season actually and too suffocating for a place like the Mitis Forest, which was renown for its coolness and shade even during the warmest months of the year. An unusual day. Fitting for an unusual mission. And as they were walking deeper into the pine forest, Elissa, Adel and Agnus were silently thanking the thick needle-like leaves above their heads for creating a canopy strong enough to shade them from the sun blazing above their heads. “How can this place be so warm and humid right now?” Elissa rubbed her face to wipe the sweat off her sticky forehead. “It’s like we’re in the middle of a tropical forest.” “Surge of dd-demonic energy can tt-transform environments. I suppose we must be gg-getting close to the Black CC-Cornucopia.” Agnus explained, hotness and excitement making him stutter more than usual and sweat atrociously under his white coat that looked very pale in contrast to the sudden redness of his burning face. “Or close to trouble.” Adel added with unsubtle nonchalance as he armed his crossbow with a sharp bolt. “For all we know, we’re heading straight into a trap as I said we would.” Elissa rolled her eyes and muttered something inaudible. “Do you think he’s gonna keep sulking like this all day?” She asked Agnus, her green eyes glaring at Adel who hadn’t noticed his friends were now walking a few steps behind him. Agnus shrugged. “You know him, Elissa. He’s just being pp-protective.” “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean he can act like a prick.” She said, weary of Adel’s childish attitude towards her. He had been grumbling and protesting since last night after Marcus had allowed Elissa to join him and Agnus in their quest to retrieve the Black Cornucopia in the heart of the forest where it was supposed to be buried according to legends. “I brought the information about the Weapons of Judgment. So I believe it’s more than fair I’m part of this expedition.” “I know and I agree. And so dd-does Adel, I am sure. He just dd-doesn’t want to pp-put you in dd-danger. No on does.” Elissa clicked her tongue, annoyed that her dearest friend was once again making her the fragile damsel in distress of the team when she clearly wasn’t. “I can handle myself.” She retorted. “I know you can. You wouldn’t be here he you cc-couldn’t. By the way, how dd-did you learn about Sanctus’ pp-plan?” Elissa’s whole body stiffened at the question and her lips tightened. She didn’t want to talk about that stranger she had been obsessed with for the last three days, not to Agnus and especially not to Adel, who - she was sure - would welcome her whole story with disapproval, anger and possibly jealousy if he knew. She wanted HIM, as well as the moments spent in his company, to be hers and hers only, free of anyone’s judgment or opinion. That’s why she had lied to Marcus last night, about her recent whereabouts and about the way she had learnt about Sanctus and his evil plan. “Drunken guards in a bar who believed I was a whore simply told me.” She had said and she was actually still surprised he had let her get away with the silly, clearly dubious story and had approved of this mission. “Just rumours I heard in a pub.” Agnus squinted at her, clearly unsatisfied with this vague answer. He tried to search the truth in her eyes but saw nothing apart from his own reflection. He also didn’t notice Elissa unconsciously rubbing her forearm as the memory of a firm yet gentle grip around her arms briefly came back to her and made her skin tingle. “Right, rumours” Agnus finally repeated as he realized he would not get any sort of confession from his friend before walking away to join Adel, leaving Elissa alone with her sweet thoughts of Vergil. What was he doing right now?

Yamato’s gold handle was twinkling under the sunlight casting blazing rays on the collapsed walls of the once formidable church that Vergil was quietly observing with a dubitative frown, standing among the remnants. There was nothing here. Just ruins and emptiness. Broken glass, charred old stones and piles of burnt wood. A vision way too familiar to Vergil’s taste that suddenly turned the Son of Sparda catatonic as he momentarily yet painfully plunged once again in a childhood nightmare he had lived and relived too many times.

***

Vergil (8 years old) Red Grave City

Vergil couldn’t move. Standing before the fire, he was watching his home burn slowly, loudly, painfully, and his childhood, his dreams and his memories turning into a pile of red embers and ashes. He wasn’t crying any longer and the remnants of his last tears had already disappeared, dried by the heat of the flames. Now, he was just staring at his past life burning with a frown that would ornate his juvenile face forever. One last look before turning around, desolate yet determined, toward a future he had never anticipated like this. Dark and lonely as the night before him.

Covered in black soot and in his own blood, his childish clothes in tatters, he walked down the hill as slowly and quietly as a ghost with no idea where to go and nothing but a sword symbol of his family inheritance and his life. Everything else was gone. Everything else had been lost in the flames along with his brother, and his beloved mother.

“I must survive on my own now. And I will.” He said without looking back behind him despite the warmth of the flames eating his back.

***

“The temple of Spardan Priestesses¹. Guess all the women loving Sparda are doomed to burn.” Vergil said to himself with a grave voice that carried grief and sorrow before he dispelled the image of a gentle motherly smile and soft blond hair burning in hot flames with a quick blink and grabbed the ancient book carefully hidden inside his long blue coat. Not so much related to Sparda or his legend but very useful for someone who, as him, wasn’t very familiar with Fortuna or the Order of the Sword. It was one of the books Elissa had lent him last night and that he had started reading as soon as she had left to force his mind to think about something that wasn’t a smile, a pair of poetic green eyes or soft fingers tugging at his sleeves. He untied the leathery lace that kept the pages together and started reading in silence, not only to see if he was missing something in this forsaken place but because he wanted his mind to be focused on something that had nothing to do with his past trauma.

Holy Decree n° 12 Creation of the Church of Spardan Priestesses and the Holy College

In order to maintain people’s faith and the glory of the almighty Lord Sparda, I, Farinata III, Holiness and Supreme Chief of the Order of the Sword, command the construction of the Church of Spardan Priestesses and the creation of the Holy College on the sacred land of Fortuna and appoint my sister, The Priestess Aquilia Farinata, as headmistress and Mother Superior.

The Holy College: The prestigious Holy College will educate little girls in the proper worship of Sparda and train them to become the wives our magnificent city of Fortuna needs. To enter the Holy College, the girls will go through a choosing ceremony led by his Holiness and the Mother Superior. After this ceremony, shall the girls be chosen; their parents will offer their children to the Order of the Sword and renounce their authority over them. The girls will become daughters of the state, daughters of the Order, daughters of his Holiness. After acceptance, the girls will commit to priestesshood. It will be asked of them to be at least 6 years of age but younger than 10 and to never have been soiled by puberty. Only the girls from illustrious Fortunan families may join.

The Church of Spardan Priestesses: At the end of their training, the little girls will carry the name of Spardan Priestess and live among her fellow priestesses in the Church located in the heart of the Mitis Forest. Here, the Spardan Priestesses will swear to celibacy for a period of 23 years, which corresponds to the amount of time our Lord Sparda spent ruling and serving our holy land. After this time, their service will end and they will be allowed to marry. The ruling Holiness, acting as the father of the bride, will choose them a suitable nobleman to be their lawful husband. During their stay in the Church, the Spardan priestesses will take care of its walls and its gardens, prepare the food used in rituals and care for scared objects in the church’s sanctuary. They will also ensure that the wills and testaments of the illustrious members of the Order are kept safe in the temple’s library and teach at the Holy College if the Mother Superior demands it. Shall a priestess fail to her duties, punishment will ensue. (cf: Holy Decree n°14 Punishment reserved to the traitors of the Order of The Sword)

But everything he sought to find in this abandonned church, the books, the sacred objects, everything had been longed lost in the flames. This place was just memories now and memories could not be kept in ruins …

***

Elissa (11 years old) Fortuna’s Holy College

Wearing long embroidered white dresses that covered every inch of skin of their virgin bodies, their damaged bleached hair adorned with a large silver cloth ribbon symbolizing their rank, Sister Maia and Sister Juno were standing by the door of the dormitory where the little eleven year old Elissa had been brought in, chatting about the terrible incident that had set a noble house of Fortuna on fire earlier this evening and that had lead this small frail girl into their school. “The Knights of The Order apparently found the poor child standing paralysed in front of the house.” Sister Maia hated rumours but judging by the soot covering the child’s face and the smell of burning that had come to her nostrils when the knights had brought the kid in this room, she couldn’t considered all the things she had heard tonight as mere rumours. “Poor child? Haven’t you heard what they whispered to each other? I can’t believe his Holiness sent her here. This is not an orphanage or a shelter!” “Hush, sister. You’re going to wake her up.” But Elissa wasn’t sleeping. Her eyes were simply tightly closed, just like her small knuckles around the beige cape in which a young brown-skinned knight had wrapped her. She was praying to Sparda, begging him in silence to wake her up from this nightmare. “Plus, we don’t know that for a fact.” “Are you accusing the knights of dishonesty, sister?” Sister Juno harrumphed. There was no priestess more devoted than her. She believed fiercely in the holiness and righteousness of the Order and, as many other inhabitants of Fortuna, considered priestesshood as the most honourable privilege for a woman. “I mean, look at her red hair and those green eyes² . Rumour has it her mother even had red-eyed goats³ in her garden. I’m telling you, the knights are right when they say she is the one who set fire to the house.” Elissa shivered at those words and she tightened the cloth between her hands even harder, so hard her knuckles turned white. “Please Sparda. Please” She slowly whispered thinking that maybe her almighty god could not read her thoughts. “That’s enough. That child is just a child. Innocent. It was a demon attack!” “Still, she’s a Minos⁴ . Her place is not among us. I hope she’ll be gone tomorrow after his Holiness realizes his mistake. ”

Needless to say, Elissa wasn’t gone the next morning to Sister Juno’s and her own utter despair. In fact, the Order of the Sword, by sacred order of Supreme Vicar Sanctus, had sent a formal letter to the school informing the priestesses that young Elissa was to enter their order at once and therefore join the Holy College, Fortuna’s most renown and most ancient religious girl’s school, created shortly after the end of Sparda’s reign.

When Sister Maia announced her this, little Elissa cried. She didn’t want to stay here, didn’t want to become a priestess. She just wanted to go back home. “Trust me Elissa, it’s a good thing. You’ll be happy among us. I’ll make sure of it. Plus, if you don’t stay with us they’ll send you to an orphanage and Sparda knows what will happen to you there.” The young priestess declared as she did Elissa’s hair into a neatly bun and hid her red hair under a hood made of thick white cloth. “Why are you doing this?” Elissa asked quietly. “Spardan priestesses, even students, can only show their hair after the albesco.” That is not what Elissa meant and yet she asked nevertheless… “What’s the albesco⁵ ?”

Extract from The Book of Aquilia Farinata (33 A-S) After their first blood, all girls from the Holy College and the Temple of Spardan Priestesses shall go along the Albesco ritual. Conducted by the Mother Superior or designated priestesses, the Albesco (which is the Latin word for “whiten”) aims to purify the young ladies by whitening their hair using an ancestral mixture based on the precious moonstone mined in Lamina Peak. This ritual is to be perform each month during a girl’s menses. The Albesco allows a girl to unveil her head in the street, as her whitened hair are the colour of Sparda’s hair and therefore the magnificent embodiment of Spardan piety.

Elissa (13 years old) Fortuna’s Holy College

“Witchcraft! This is witchcraft!” Sister Juno shouted, terrified as she almost tripped on her way out of the dormitory. “That child is a witch!” She pointed at the red-haired girl with a trembling finger, her hair dishevelled and standing on end because of the fear. “What’s going on, Sister Juno?” Sister Maia asked as she ran towards her friend who was standing petrified in the corridor. “You look like you’ve seen a devil.” “I have! I am! Look at her smile and her hair! She’s the devil, Maia.” Sister’s Maia tender blue eyes met Elissa and stared with confusion at the long red waves falling over her shoulders. “She had her albesco yesterday. Her hair were pure silver and look at her now! SHE’S A WITCH!!!! ” The child was smirking and looked prouder than ever and a hint of insolence was shining in her green eyes. “Oh yes, I’m a witch and I’m going to curse you, you knuckle-dragging bigot.” It was a joke of course. Every girl in the dormitory knew. Everyone but Sister Juno who took Elissa’s words so seriously she hid herself between her fellow priestess, begging her to protect her from that devil child. “Stop her, Sister!” Elissa laughed and briefly winked at her friend Pomona standing right behind her. But as soon as she saw Sister Maia’s eyes filled with disappointment, she dropped her smile. She opened her mouth to apologize but the priestess shut her up before she could say a single word. “You make fighting for you very hard, Elissa. I hope you know that.” Elissa looked down, saddened and ashamed. “I’m so—” “No! I don’t want to hear things you don’t mean.” But she meant them. She meant them dearly. The last thing she wanted was disappointing Sister Maia who, despite her young age, had been acting like a mother to her for the past two years. “Now, go wait for me in the caldarium. We’ll do your albesco all over again before anyone else accuses you of witchcraft.”

***

“You are clearly a witch, Elissa!” Adel looked amazed as he watched the thick dark vines obtruding the old gateway before them instantly dry and disappear in the wind like dust. “You’re not the first person who calls me that. Though this is not witchcraft. Merely science and some bit of alchemy.” The girl said as she placed the glass vial containing a glistening almost-phosphorescent white liquid back in her brown leather satchel. “Infused ss-sunlight?” Agnus asked as he touched the remaining vines crawling onto the walls in ruin. “Clever right? When Marcus told us that the cornucopia might be in the heart of the Mitis Forest, I figured we might need it.” “But where dd-did you learn to infuse sunlight?” The operation was a quite difficult and meticulous process that required skills and patience. Agnus knew that better than anyone since infusing sunlight was one of the numerous tasks he had had to do to earn his title of Grand Alchemist. “Back when I was living with the priestesses, they used to whiten my hair to make it look like Sparda’s. I hated that. So when I figured they were using moonstone powder to do so…” “You learnt to make infused sunlight to counter the effect of the moonstone powder.” Agnus’ sparkling brown eyes gazed at Elissa, amazed by her genius. She was definitely too incredible to be real, he thought. “That’s clever.” “Sister Juno didn’t think that way.” Elissa scoffed as she remembered the sister screaming and shouting in the corridor the first time she had used that little alchemist trick. “ Well, the Order has never bb-been fond of science or alchemy.” “ Or people of colour.”

***

Adel (10 years old) Port Caerula – Fortuna

Crying, bleeding, his tiny lungs struggling to breathe, Adel was running down the quayside holding an old cotton pouch filled with tiny white shells against his childish chest. He had lost one shoe on the beach but he couldn’t go back to retrieve it nor could he stop running. “Where are you going, wog?!” He heard one of the children screaming behind him. “Back to your whore mother?” He laughed and threw a pebble at Adel. So did his friends but the boy kept on running despite his rage, his pain and the urge to turn back to kick their asses. “Look at that! The wog is fleeing to his whore mother.” Yes he was. He was fleeing. He was fleeing because even if he wanted to be brave, he knew he didn’t stand a chance against those children. His bleeding nose and lips were enough to prove it. But most of all, he was fleeing because he was scared. “I’m sorry, mama!”

Out of breath, he pushed the door to his home, an old tiny underground house with no window his mother managed to rent thanks to her underpaid job as a waitress in the filthy bar upstairs, and he called her as he dried his tears and hid his remaining shoe under his tiny bed. Hopefully he’ll find the other tomorrow. “Mama!” Adel repeated as he hesitantly knocked at the door to her room and waited a couple of seconds until the door brutally slammed wide open, making him jolt and step back. But that was not his mother on the doorstep. It was a man wearing the Order’s uniform, a tall blond-haired man he had seen in his house way too many times recently to his liking, and he was glaring at the child from head to toe. “You do have a knack for disturbing us, you little shit.” He said as he zipped his white trousers while Adel stared at him with a confused angry frown. “We’ll finish this tonight.” The man growled at his mother who was on her knees on the floor of her room, half-naked, her reddish-brown hair dishevelled and her chin and lips covered in drool.

Adel watched the man leave and shut the door loudly on his way out. “Good riddance” He thought before his mother grabbed him by the shoulders to make him look at her. “What are you doing here? I told you to go to the beach and pick up shells.” “I did.” He said as he offered her the pouch, hoping it would make his mother smile. It didn’t. Instead she sighed as if she was annoyed. Maybe she was. “Silly kid. The Captain could make our lives so much better but you just have to ruin everything every time. Why do you always make my life so complicated?” She sighed and Adel looked down. The last thing he needed right now was to hear his mother telling him again how her life was way easier before his birth. It wasn’t his fault if she had gotten pregnant, wasn’t his fault he was born, wasn’t his fault if his father had died in prison, wasn’t his fault if he wasn’t the son of some blond-haired pale-skinned captain, wasn’t his fault if society had rejected her because she had gotten romantically involved with a black man, a moor⁶. It wasn’t his fault and yet his mother always made him believe like it was. “What am I going to do with you?” She complained as she brushed her beautiful wavy hair away from her forehead and the child’s eyes filled with tears. All he wanted was to please his mother. “Why are you crying?” She didn’t even notice he was hurt. And a tear finally ran down his cheek.

***

A drop fell and rolled on Vergil’s marble face and he looked up at the sky that had suddenly taken a menacing and unexpected grey colour. The young man wiped the water off his skin and stared at the small pearl of hot liquid on his fingertips. He liked the rain, liked the storm, liked the water, liked how tranquil it was and how dangerous it could become. A bit like him. Yes he liked the rain. He had so many good memories of the rain.

***

Vergil (15 years old) Capulet City

The rain was pouring down on him, crashing on his shoulders and on his head, but he was standing still and stiff, staring at the open door before him, feeling something soft and warm in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years. A little bit of gratefulness, of trust, of hope. A little bit of something he had missed and yet that he despised for being so human. Something he couldn’t help but feel deep within as he looked at the young curly-haired woman waiting for him on the doorstep of her warm house. “The door remains open. When you’re ready to come in, I’ll be in the kitchen.” He learnt that that young woman’s name was Clemence around a glass of milk and a marmalade sandwich she had especially made for him and had left on the kitchen counter for him to eat, a kind gesture Vergil had accepted after letting go of his pride and stubbornness for a short moment.

Clemence⁷ was an artist. A free-spirited painter in her late twenties or early thirties (he didn’t really know and didn’t really care) and an epicurean who loved life and enjoyed every second of it. Generous and loving, she could see beauty in the world Vergil thought so ugly and adored painting it on the various canvas scattered everywhere in her tiny home. Clemence lived life in ways Vergil never thought possible. Simple and from day to day. She didn’t care about people’s opinions, didn’t care about politics or religion, didn’t care about power. She just cared about eating marmalade sandwiches in the middle of the night, dancing barefoot on David Bowie (a bit like his mother Eva used to, except it was on Vivaldi), painting colourful landscapes and portrait à la Gauguin and having sex with men she would likely never see or call again. Vergil thought her life ridiculous, degrading even. And yet he couldn’t help but envy the freedom and happiness Clemence experienced daily. “Happiness is at everyone’s grasp. You just have to find what makes you happy.”

She let him stay under her roof and share her life for a few weeks. A short amount of time in a human’s life but enough for a young teenager who had been deprived of all sorts of affection for so long to start experiencing feelings he had never felt before. Though Vergil was sure Clemence never felt anything for him except perhaps some kind of motherly love, he did feel something for her, something that repulsed him and that he knew was far from appropriate, something that awakened a lustful warmth in his trousers when he thought of her at night or when he listened to her getting laid in the room at the end of the corridor, something that made him want to touch the pointing dark nipples he could see under her sheer white shirt when she would paint by the window. For a long time, he thought that something was Love until the day he let go to his desires and tried to kiss her and she rejected him (of course). He didn’t feel heartbroken on that day; at least he didn’t think so. Sure, he was vexed, possibly a bit hurt to be rejected. There was no doubt in that. But only his ego was bruised. Only his ego felt pain, not his heart as he could still feel it beating loudly and lively in his chest. “Vergil. I don’t … You’re …” Clemence tried to explained. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” He said as he took his katana in his hand. Vergil left Clemence’s home after that and went back to being a wanderer. But he had no regrets, no bitterness. He was glad he had met her for she had taught her a lesson he already knew. Clemence was happy because she had found what made her happy. He intended to do the same, by finding power.

***

Something moved across the bridge, right behind the trees. Something that wasn’t a ‘cute little deer’ contrary to what Elissa said to Agnus to reassure him as she spotted the cold sweat forming on his suddenly very pale face. Something big and definitely very fast. “Adel.” Elissa called as she slowly took the two daggers strapped to her thighs, her eyes trying to find whatever was hunting them right. “ Don’t worry. I’m ready.” The young man said as he prepared himself to shoot, a finger already on the trigger of his crossbow. “ That’s not a cute little deer, isn’t it?” Agnus questioned with a trembling voice. “ Do you tell him, or should I?” Adel asked as he searched for the creature in the trees. “ Do it. I’m gonna make him panic.” “Alright Agnus. It’s a demon. But not like a little demon, more like— “A huge demon with slimy scales, sharp fangs and a thorny tail.” Elissa finished his sentence and Adel watched Agnus getting petrified from the corner of his dark brown eyes. “Congratulations you just made him freak out, Elissa.” Adel declared, though a bit amused by the situation. “Couldn’t find more terrifying?” “Judge by yourself.” The girl declared and suddenly Adel heard a rumbling growl coming from behind him. He quickly turned around and immediately aimed at the beast standing right in front of Elissa. “Holy sh…” He almost cursed and the demon set his reptilian eyes on him. It was indeed huge, like eight feet tall huge and it looked nothing like the scarecrows the Guard of Sparda had been killing for the last few weeks. It had the green body of an enormous iguana and its paws, spine and long tail were covered with numerous razor-thin scutes that looked sharp enough to turn a tree into a bunch of wooden confetti. “What the hell is that thing?” Its serpentine neck extended towards Adel and his split tongue came out of his mouth with a whistle. But when the tip almost touched Adel’s cheek, the demon cried out in unexpected pain. “Elissa!” Adel screamed as he noticed Elissa’s dagger lodged into the demon’s leg. “Run!” But the creature had already turned around and before Adel could do anything, it pushed the girl over the bridge and followed her into the river. “No!!!”

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

¹ Spardan Priestesses : Even though we are aware of the existence of priestesses in DMC (Lady is a descendant of a priestess. Whether she was priestess of Sparda or not is a mystery), the Spardan Priestesses are not canon. I created them based on what I know of Vestal Virgins (Roman priestesses) using key elements like: chastity, marriage, daughters of the state, devotion, service etc...

² In folklore, literature and art, witches are often depicted with red hair and green eyes.

³ Goats: Animals who symbolise the devil.

⁴ Minos: Elissa is from the blood of Minos, the Red Guardian from the legend told in Chapter 3.

⁵ Albesco: In Deadly Fortune, Kyrie and Credo's parents adopts Nero because his hair colour reminds them of Sparda. To me, it shows that silver hair is viewed as something divine and beautiful. Therefore, I believed it would make sense for the priestesses to bleach their hair in order to show their devotion and admiration for Sparda.

⁶ Racism in Fortuna: I already said in some comments that I headcanon Fortuna as a racist island. There is no people of colour in DMC4. The only one (Agnus) is kept in an UNDERGROUND lab and the Order has clearly a fascination for everything white (uniforms, angelos, sparda's hair etc...). Therefore, in this story (and through Adel) I chose to show how POC / persons involved with POC are rejected by society.

⁷ Clemence is a French name. I chose it to reflect the character's kindness, pity and generosity.

#devil may cry fanfiction #devil may cry #vergil #vergil fanfiction #nero's mother #what fortune gave #dmc vergil

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