⌖ Why The Sad Face⌖

Dianthus | Any/it/sweet/storm/flora | 22

[eats-ants]

🩷 Hi I’m Dianthus!!

🩷 Pref names: anthos, ant, anteater

🩷 Age: 22

🩷 Pronouns: Any/It/Sweet

🩷 Any terms! (masc + neu + fem)

❓ Misc: 

❓ Multi kpop stan 

❓ Big nerd

❗️ I reblog 18+ posts too so proceed with your own caution if you’re a minor 

‼️ DNI ‼️

❌ Basic DNI 

❌ Kpop antis

❌ Enganges in fanwars 

❌ Anti xenogenders and neopronouns

[bunnis-monsters]

okay, but cow hybrid reader being the only one amongst all those bulls 🥺

You were so nervous, being transported to a new farm out of nowhere. You had friends and family on your old farm, and had never left before…

When you arrived, it was clear why you were there. In your old home, you lived among all the cow hybrids since you were a baby, growing until you would be ready to have a calf and produce milk.

As the farmer led you in, showing you around your stall and telling you when to come eat in the cafeteria, you noticed… you were the only cow in the barn.

All eyes were on you as you followed behind the farmer, your tail swaying nervously. The sexual tension in the air was thick and heavy, making breathing hard. You could almost taste their desire for you, your pheromones reacting to theirs.

“Here’s your stall, go ahead and get some rest. You can call your family tomorrow after supper.”

The farmer left you alone, and as soon as the door to the barn was closed, your stall was surrounded by bulls of disgusting heights and sizes.

“They finally brought a heifer in, huh?”

“Ain’t she a smidgen too small?”

“Y’all aren’t nice enough, I’ll treat her right.”

They all stared at you, eventually backing up a little when they saw you trembling and hiding away as best as you could.

“Hey, hey little heifer, ain’t no reason to be afraid. Ain’t gonna hurt yah. Just gotta breed that pretty cunt of yours so you can start producing milk. Don’t worry, you’ll be wanting it soon, just a matter of time.”

They left you alone for the first day, but you still felt eyes on you. After dinner, you curled up in your bed of hay and pulled your blanket up to your chin.

The barn was quiet, mostly. Just the sound of sleeping hybrids… but the scent in the air was louder than any sound.

You felt yourself getting wet and needy… you could smell their lust, almost taste it. The bulls wanted you, wanted to knock you up and make your breasts swell with milk.

They sensed your arousal before you could even let out a pitiful cry for assistance. Your stall door swung open, several bulls piling in and lifting you up, trying to be gentle with your little self.

You were just a heifer, never bred before, not even kissed or touched… but now you were writhing like you were in heat, mooing softly and lifting up your ass in an attempt to entice one of them to mount you already.

And it didn’t take long for one of them to take you up on your offer.

You let out a little cry when you felt one of the bull’s thick cocks push into your virgin hole, a finger rubbing roughly at your clit. The stretch was painful, making you cry and moo pathetically as he began fucking into you.

“Shh, gonna feel better soon. Just be a good little heifer and take it.”

You sniffled and started to complain, but your chin was tilted up, your lips touching the head of another Bull’s cock. It smelled funny, precum dripping onto your lips… but your instincts took over and you obediently opened your mouth.

Your pussy gushed as the bull fucking you pulled out, letting another take his place. After only one session, your womb felt so heavy and full of cum, you weren’t sure how’s you fit anymore inside of you…

But they made it fit. You were fucked full of cum until you were too tired to move, your cunt plugged up with one of their cocks to make sure none of their precious seed escaped.

Within a few months time you were heavy and swollen with a calf, your breasts already leaking milk. Being milked felt heavenly, and it was even better when a bull let you sit on his cock while being thoroughly milked.

Maybe being a breeding and milk cow wouldn’t be so bad…

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9

[nixdvn]

My cutie (old art)

[neckocase]

Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes

[lunariyan]

A Knight’s Loyalty (Yandere Lohen x reader)

⏾⋆.˚ gender neutral reader, unhealthy dependence, threats of suicide, self harm, power imbalance, reader kinda sends mixed signals.

⏾⋆.˚ He was always a fantasy to you, something you knew you could never truly have. In the end, whatever you had with him was only meant to be some harmless fun, too bad Lohen took it a step too far.

(7.6k wc)

“Among the higher ranks, who’s your favorite?”

The cool winds of Nod Krai swept through the Favonius keep, a crackling fire keeping the chill at bay. Following another swift victory against the wild hunt the knights broke out into a celebration, guzzling down kegs of dandelion wine from the latest shipment. Song and mirthful laughter filled the air as each knight’s face grew progressively more red.

A boisterous voice bellowed from within the little circle, “What kind of question is that? Obviously it’s Grandmaster Varka! The knights would be nowhere near where we are now without him.”

“Hey, that's just unfair. Grandmaster Varka is great but I personally think Lady Eula is the best! I mean she’s just so graceful.” A chipper knight with hickory hair sighed dreamily.

“Well then how about Master Jean? She’s strong and capable! She was made Acting Grandmaster for a reason you know?”

“Ugh I don’t know!” Winfried, the knight who first asked the question squinted his eyes, the flush on his face indicating he was thoroughly wasted. Suddenly his eyes turned to face you, he slurred, “What about you [name]? Who do you think is the *hic* coolest?”

“Me?” You hummed thoughtfully as you eyed the bottom of your empty barrel, seriously, it was good wine.

“That’s right you haven’t said anything this whole time, tell us!”

“Yeah yeah!”

The crowd grew overzealous as they egged on their new target, their fervent gazes impatiently waiting for your answer as they wriggled in their seats.

“Hmm, then.” you licked your lips, “Vice Captain Lohen.”

A hush settled over the once lively circle, only the crackle of the fire heard amidst the silence.

“Y-You’re kidding right?” Winfried laughed nervously, “Come on seriously who is it?”

You cocked a brow, pouting slightly, “I’m serious though?”

“But why?!” The brunette beside you shrieked, “H-he’s so scary!”

Another knight chimed in as a full body shiver ran through him, “Yeah! Once he made me do drills until I puked, and then made me do even more as punishment!

You chuckled apologetically, you felt bad for your fellow knights you really did… but, “Isn’t it pretty impressive he managed to get you to do that?”

“Huh?”

“Well you’re older than him aren’t you? The fact that he was able to rise up the ranks, get the Grandmaster’s approval, gain the authority of vice captain, and get you to train until you puked before even reaching your age. That’s pretty cool right?”

“You-!” The man exclaimed, “You’re just teasing me!”

This time you it was your turn to let out a boisterous laugh, “Sorry, sorry, I was just messing with you! Still…” you traced the handle of your mug, “Seeing his back on the battlefield brings a lot of reassurance, doesn’t it?”

“I guess… but tell me honestly [name],” Winfried let out a long winded sigh, “Are you a masochist?”

“Haha, Maybe.”

Sometimes, when you’re taking a break from drills and not needed for deployment, you take your time to observe the Vice Captain. It wasn’t creepy —well at least you didn’t think so— it was just something to keep you entertained, to pass the time, and Vice Captain Lohen was oh so interesting.

This time, you found yourself situated between a tall, jagged rock as you watched him duke it out with a Frostnight Scion that had been approaching dangerously close to the keep. There was a sharp grin split into his face as he cut into the beast with his polearm, the frosted tip tearing a screech from its chest. His movements were swift and frantic, but there was that edge of grace ingrained in them that clearly displayed his knighthood.

You were startled out of your observation from a whisper in your ear, “Ogling the Vice Captain again, [name]?”

“Gh! Winfried, how many times have I told you to quit doing that?!” You hissed as you watched your companion lean against the more hidden side of the rock.

“And how many times have I told you to not wander off without telling anyone?” He leveled a stern look at you before crossing his arms, “Anyways you should get out of here before he notices you, the last thing you want is Vice Captain Lohen’s eyes on you.”

You huffed, “He’s definitely noticed us for a while now.”

“Yeah but he doesn’t care, you should leave before he does.”

“Yeah yeah, in a minute.” You could hear Winfried audibly sigh beside you as you turned your head to face Lohen again. He had defeated the Scion at this point, now he had his polearm stuck into the sand of the shoreline, gazing distantly into the horizon. It was unlike him, the somber look in his eyes, but it’s an expression you’ve noticed he's been taking on more lately.

“Hey.” You signaled to Winfried, “Do you think… the Vice Captain might be having a hard time too, just like the rest of us?”

“What?”

“You know, maybe even someone like him is getting worn down by the Wild Hunt, his eyes just look so… empty sometimes.”

“That’s because he has no soul.” Winfried sighed, “You’re overthinking it, there’s no way a monster like him even knows what fear is.”

“…Yeah I guess.”

Just as you replied, Lohen pulled his polearm about of the sand and turned to face the rock you two were hiding behind.

“Gah quick! Let’s get out of here!” Winfried’s hand shot out to grab your arm, just as you two turned tail to run you threw one final glance at Lohen.

His dull eyes remained fixed on yours. You didn’t look away until he was a speck on the horizon.

After that encounter you tried to be more discreet with your observing, though you don’t think you could’ve possibly found a way to evade the vice captain’s sharp eye. Maybe that’s what landed you in this sorry situation.

“Looks like you’re next.”

A wooden sword pointed towards after one of your fellow knights fell to the floor of the training grounds, groaning in pain. It was peaceful that day, or at least as peaceful it could be in Nod Krai, when Lohen rounded a group of knights to ‘spar’ with. Each of them dropped like flies until finally, it was your turn.

You swallowed down the saliva pooling in your mouth before drawing your wooden sword.

Lohen laughed, “Let’s hope you put up a good fight.”

Immediately he rushed towards you and just barely managed to dodge his attack, with every movement you were stuck in a perpetual cycle of defense, putting all your strength into just deflecting his onslaught of attacks. You heard a whistle in your ear.

“Got you~”

Suddenly you felt the blunt edge of the wooden sword punch into your gut, knocking the air out of you. You doubled over, your ass falling flat on the ground when the chill of frost singed your cheek. Sticking out of the ground next to you, just shy of your shoulder, was the wooden sword, infused with cryo. When your eyes turned back you found magenta and teal staring back.

A chill ran down your spine.

He hummed, his forearm leaning onto the hilt of the sword as he bent to look down at you, “You’re pretty good, my little secret admirer.”

“Hah,” You wheezed out a thin laugh, your hand still clutching your stomach as drool dripped from your mouth, “Not very secret if I’m this open about it, yeah?”

“Oh? I suppose you’re right!” And with that he pulled the hilt of the sword and turned away.

“W-wait.” You cried, “I can… still fight.”

Before you could get back on your feet you felt cold fingers flick your forehead.

“I like your spirit, but you should know your limits. Shame, if you were just a tad bit stronger I would’ve set my sights on you.”

Your head hung low in defeat. Just a little stronger… what a pipe dream.

“You should take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You were out on patrol when you came across Lohen again, from the freshly dead hilichurls littering the ground it looked like he was out on another excursion to ‘relieve some stress’.

And of course wherever Lohen went, you would follow.

“I could, but a picture can never compare to the real thing, now can it?”

“Well then why don’t you come down here and I’ll give you a real show.”

You were perched up on a cliff overseeing the hilichurl camp, you gave it some thought before letting out a theatrical sigh, “I think I’ll pass actually.”

Lohen merely shrugged his shoulders, “Suit yourself.”

Maybe it’s because he thought you were too weak, that a fight with you wouldn’t be worthwhile, but he gave up relatively easily. This has been your routine for a while now. Make no mistake, he still beat you black and blue when it came to training, but times like this when it was just the two of you, he let you be. A part of you thinks he’d rather not be distracted by a bigger fight, and another is telling you he just likes the attention.

It wasn’t anything serious, you know he wasn’t really interested, that this was just some passing entertainment until he finds his next fight. You weren’t expecting anything either, honest, it was just… harmless fun. Sure, some of the things he says make your cheeks burn, and sometimes your mind wanders to him, but that's all there is to it.

It was just a fantasy, he was just a fantasy.

He turns his back to you, and you find you’ve grown tired of the sight.

Your fellow knights thought your little arrangement was an absolute nightmare.

“I told you to steer clear of him didn’t I?” Winfried clicked his tongue, “Now he comes to pick on us even more!”

“He picks on you guys anyways, plus he’s not actually interested so I doubt he does it because of me, he’s probably just bored.”

You were seated around the fire once again, mugs full of liquid courage. The Wild Hunt had been more aggressive recently putting everyone on edge, drinking around a fire huddled with your companions was all you could do to settle your nerves.

Laurent sighed wearily, “You two should forget about silly things like that and focus on the threat ahead. The Wild Hunt is growing more unpredictable by the day.”

“Oh yeah, I overheard the Grandmaster speaking of a new threat on the horizon, someone named Rerir.” Winfried took a quick swig from his mug, “Well whatever, I’m sure we’ve got nothing to worry about, [name]’s sweetheart will surely take care of it.”

“Don’t call him that…” you hissed, but you couldn’t help the fond smile on your face, “I’m sure we'll be just fine.”

Things weren’t fine at all.

This new… monster, Rerir, whatever he was he was something far beyond the power of the knights. In the face of that beast, even the strongest would fall.

Even Lohen fell.

You watched them drag his broken body into the encampment, your blood running cold. When they ushered him into a private room it took everything in you not to follow after, to confirm his weakness with your own eyes. It’s been days since the assault and Lohen’s condition had finally stabilized, not to the point where he could get out of bed, but just enough to stay conscious. You find yourself hesitating in front of his room, recalling what the Frostmoon Scion who was treating him told you.

‘He’s in a bit of a delicate position right now emotionally, he may be aggressive so it’s best to proceed with caution.’

You gulped before carefully parting the curtain.

“…Vice Captain?”

Only silence greeted you, and the lingering stench of blood and medicinal herbs in the air. Lohen laid on the mattress, only a thin blanket covered his still form. From this distance you could see the various bandages littering his skin, some already bled through. His face was turned away from you, facing the small window carved into the stone of the building. You took a few cautious steps forward before being interrupted by a raspy voice.

“Get out.”

It wasn’t loud, closer to a whisper and barely there, you would have missed it if your ears weren’t trained for any sign of a reaction. You felt something shift inside you because for the first time since you’ve known him Lohen sounded so damn weak.

He wasn’t supposed to sound like that.

You let out a shaky breath, “…okay.”

Your visits after that followed a relatively simple pattern. You would try to make conversation, get a reaction, and Lohen would proceed to firmly dismiss you. Sometimes through aggressive shouts, and others with a small whisper. You didn’t mind, it was enough just to see him alive and breathing, the rejections weren't something that could deter you so easily anyways. This time, you had offered to help the Frostmoon Scions and bring a new basin of water and washcloths in their stead. As you stepped up to the entrance of his ward you were expecting the usual routine, make some small talk, he would ignore and dismiss you, and you would set the basin and cloth down and go on your merry way. Those were your expectations as you parted the curtain once more.

“Vice Captain, I brought some water.”

In response you heard a labored huff, when you looked up you noticed Lohen struggling to get out of bed. His limbs trembled as they braced against the mattress, a thin sheen of sweat layered his forehead.

Immediately you placed the basin and cloth down and hurried to stop him, “What are you doing you shouldn’t be out of bed yet-”

Suddenly, your vision distorted, a stinging pain piercing your head. Your head was whipped forcefully to the side and when you looked down you noticed a piece of… stone? It must’ve been one of the small stone statues the Frostmoon Scions kept around. As you eyed it closer with blurry eyes you noticed a patch of red and instinctively brought a hand to your head. When you pulled back, a matching red coated your fingers.

“A-ah…”

Lohen hadn’t noticed, or he might have and was too out of his mind to care. A cracked wheeze crawled out of his throat, the crimson in his eyes glowing with outrage, “Just why the hell do you keep coming back here, huh? Just to revel in my weakness?”

“That’s not-”

“Save it, I don’t need your pity! Get out of my sigh- hrk!” Before he could finish his sentence his chest convulsed and all color drained from his face. He held his hand over his mouth before turning and emptying the contents of his stomach with a shudder. You stepped back in surprise as the clear liquid pooled on the floor, and while Lohen’s body quaked in front of you, you could only think of one thing.

‘Oh, he hasn’t eaten.’

Lohen tried to steady himself and hung his head low in what you didn’t want to call shame, but it was close. He stayed silent, only his shuddering breaths echoing through the stone walls.

With a sigh you took a step back before gathering the cloth and dipping it into the basin of warm water. Carefully, you stepped forward and kneeled beside his hunched form. With steady hands you turned his head and brought the cloth to gently wipe at the corner of his mouth.

His pupils were blown wide and he grit his teeth, but he made no move to swat your hand away. He whispered weakly, “Why are you doing this?”

You hummed thoughtfully, taking a moment to think of a response, before speaking softly, “It’s nice to be able to see you face to face after only ever knowing the sight of your back.”

Something in Lohen’s expression changed at that, the slightest shift in his eyes that you wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t a hairbreadth away. As if finally regaining some sense, his eyes were drawn to the leaky red patch on your head. You followed them and quickly turned your head to hide the wound.

“Ah, don’t worry about this. It’s nothing compared to what you went through.”

Lohen made a complicated expression, he opened his mouth to say something before biting his lip instead. The ghost of an apology lingered in the air.

You showed him a small smile before rising off your knees, “I’ll clean this up and call for a Scion. Please don’t try to get up without assistance again, Vice Captain.”

The man only huffed before turning over and pulling the thin blanket over himself, “fine.”

You nodded and made way for the exit, his eyes still imprinted in your mind.

The Frostmoon Scions were incredibly fussy about the little wound on your head. When they asked how you got it, all you could say was ‘I fell’. It was such an obvious lie it was almost laughable; still, they didn’t question it, simply dressed the wound and told you to be careful. You wished your fellow knights were as agreeable, they simply gave you a knowing look and sighed whenever they glanced at the bandage on your forehead.

It’s been a week since then, and whenever you had free time you made sure to visit Lohen. He’s been more responsive during your visits, his usual snark tinting more of his words. The fight with Rerir almost seemed to shatter his spirit so it was reassuring to know he was regaining his confidence.

You were with him again, this time you had a ball of gauze at your side as you redressed his bandages. Perhaps it was stubbornness, but his recovery speed was impressive. Maybe he was just willing himself to get better in order to step back on the battlefield. You were speaking to him of anything and everything, just enough to fill the silence. He had been quieter than usual and it was only when you taped the last bandage that he spoke up.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“The knights have been telling you to leave me, haven't they?”

You choke, “W-what do you mean?”

He scoffed half heartedly, “I know what they’ve been whispering behind my back. ‘The Vice Captain has finally fallen, perhaps he isn’t as formidable as we all thought!’ Right?”

You tried to open your mouth in denial but quickly shut it when you couldn’t find a rebuttal, instead you mumbled in defeat, “Who told you that…?”

Lohen laughed airily, “I have eyes and ears everywhere, you really think I wouldn't find out?”

You barely hold back a biting remark, ‘then close your eyes and ears’

“Still…” he draws on, a sharp little smile curling his lips “You keep coming back. At least you know where your loyalties lie.”

Your brow furrowed a bit at that, "Don't be too harsh on them, morale has been down ever since Rerir’s attack. You’ve always been their shield, now that you’ve fallen it makes sense their fears are rising with no defense.” A small, teasing smile graced your lips, “That small back of yours is pretty reassuring, you know?”

“And yet, you hate the sight of it.”

You stilled for a moment before looking up to lock eyes with Lohen. Carefully, you brought a hand to brush a lock of hair away from his face, “…Even you deserve a break sometimes.”

Lohen leaned into your touch and just as you were about to pull away he held onto your wrist, his voice feather soft, “Hey, won’t you stay the night?”

You flinch involuntarily, there was something in his voice that felt… intimate. There was a small, wriggling feeling of unease in your gut, “Vice Captain that’s a bit…”

“Please.”

Vice Captain Lohen never begs, you didn’t even think he knew the concept, so how could you possibly deny him when he asked so sweetly.

“…fine.”

You were awoken to a stinging pain. Slowly you raised your head from the mattress Lohen laid on, his face turned away from you, only the steady rise and fall of his chest indicating he was asleep. Your hand laid by his side, his finger just barely grasping the tips of yours, as if he were hesitant to fully grasp your hand but refused to fully let go. You stared at your hands before gasping quietly at another sting of pain. Gently, you peeled his fingers from yours before gingerly pressing into the bandage on your head. You sighed at the wet crimson staining your fingers, your wound must’ve opened during the night.

As quietly as you could, you rose from your seat and padded towards the small mirror on the side wall. There was a basin of clear water beneath it intended for washing purposes. You leaned over the counter and removed the bandage to see fresh blood leaking from the reopened wound. There was a cloth on the counter, and after lightly dipping it into the water basin you went to dab at the wound. You hissed at the stinging pain but continued to clean the wound and bandage it, all while biting your lip trying to hold in your pained moans.

But you noticed, in the dead of night, there was no one there to bear witness to your weakness. There was no reason to hold in your pain, to keep up this strength. So you released your bitten lips, a quiet sob leaving them.

It hurts.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurtsithurtsithurts-

Like the break of a dam, tears continued to leak from your eyes. The culmination of the pain from your wound, the fear of the Wild Hunt, the frustration from your own weakness, the despair that even someone like Vice Captain Lohen could be defeated so thoroughly-

If someone like him fell, then what chance could you possibly stand in this wretched world?

These thoughts continued to fall in streams from your eyes. The throbbing pain from your head served only as a reminder. A torrent of sobs crawled up your throat as they echoed across the stone walls, your hands continuously wiping at the wetness.

“[Name]?”

You froze, a quiet hiccup slipping past your lips as you tried to turn your head away from the voice and squeezed your eyes shut. You could feel eyes burning into you as you hurriedly splashed water onto your face, praying it would cover the evidence of your weakness.

“S-sorry, did I wake you?” You tried to laugh, but it came out stilted.

There was a moment of silence, and then, “I’ve always been a light sleeper.”

Archons, he heard everything didn’t he?

It took everything in you not to rush out right that instant, an embarrassed flush burning your face. You know he could see your face in the mirror even with your head ducked.

“Come here.”

You hesitated, but eventually stepped to the stool you had been sleeping on previously, your head lowered in shame.

“Not there.”

You raised your head in confusion, only to feel your breath hitch at the sight of Lohen holding his blanket up, inviting you in.

He cooed, “Here, come on.”

“I- you can’t be serious.”

That uneasy feeling in your gut returned in full force. You were teetering on the edge of a line that shouldn’t be crossed between a knight and their superior. A threshold which you had previously thought Lohen had no intention of ever letting you pass. Silently, you wondered if this too was just a passing entertainment. If you were just something to keep his mind off his own weakness.

You… you didn’t want that, to be something to momentarily cling to only to eventually toss away.

You almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation only to quickly shut up at the seriousness in Lohen’s eyes. The crimson in them seemed to glow brighter in the dark and all you could do was helplessly crawl into his bed. Your back laid ram rod straight against the mattress, eyes firmly fixed onto the ceiling as you tried your hardest to ignore the heat beside you. It sure as hell didn’t help when Lohen curled into your side his arm laid over your chest.

“Vice Captain, this is-”

“Lohen. Call me Lohen, you know I hate titles.”

“…Lohen.” That sinking feeling was coming back in full force, you turned your head away from him, “This isn’t… I don’t think we should be doing this.”

Lohen’s arm seemed to wrap tighter around you, as if to prevent you from escaping, as if to prove that you had no choice in the first place, “How come?”

“You… seem to be asking for something impossible.. is all.”

Lohen hummed playfully, his finger gliding across your collarbone, “I haven’t even said anything and you’re already making assumptions. It’s not good for a knight to have such hasty judgment.”

“A knight… yes, exactly that,” you grit your teeth, he was clearly trying to play the long game. Unfortunately, you had no plans to indulge him, “I’m just a lowly knight. I can’t give you what you want Lo-… Vice Captain..”

Lohen stilled his ministrations and went quiet, only the soft tickle of his breath against your neck indicating his presence. Slowly, his lips crafted a response.

“I’m just a knight too.”

…

There was a beat of silence before you realized he was being serious.

“…Are you trying to comfort me? You? Just a knight? We both know that’s not true.” You laughed bitterly before turning over, your back facing him. Distant, but not fully gone, “Go to sleep Lohen.”

Lohen didn’t say anything, his arm still firmly wrapped around you. It was only when he noticed the steady rise and fall of your chest that he pressed himself flush against your back, his fingers lightly tracing the bandage on your forehead.

“Sorry… I’m sorry.”

His apologies went unheard.

It had been days since you last visited Lohen. You wouldn’t say you were ’avoiding’ him, but after your last encounter you weren’t exactly partial to a visit. In the meantime, you decided to take up your knightly duties which have been sorely neglected. It was during patrol that Winfried suddenly struck conversation.

“Have you heard? Apparently the Grandmaster is gathering people to defeat Rerir.”

You quirked a brow, “Is that so?”

“That’s right! No one really knows who’s helping him but the traveler is definitely involved.” Winfried grinned, his elation made sense, after all a formidable foe needed a formidable opponent and you’ve heard many tales of Mondstadt’s illustrious Honorary Knight.

You couldn’t help but smile in turn, “Then there’s no way we’ll lose.”

It was in the midst of you two laughing together that a familiar figure ran up to you.

“[Name]! Oh thank goodness I found you.” It was the Frostmoon Scion who was in charge of treating Lohen. Her face was shiny with sweat, her chest heaving as a clear sign of exertion, had she ran all the way here?

“Woah hey, what’s wrong?”

“Well! It’s that Vice Captain of yours you hear!?” You held her shoulders to steady her only to notice her abrupt appearance was less in panic and more in frustration, “He absolutely refuses to receive any kind of treatment!”

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise, “Sorry?”

She let out an exasperated huff, “I know you were only trying to help but to think it’s gotten to this point… Whenever I attempt to go through my usual routine he’s completely unresponsive and just tells me to leave! I’m sorry [name] but could you please go check up on him? We have other patients and I can’t afford to meander around his room any longer.”

“Ah that's… well I mean… I’m kinda.. in the middle of… something..” You turn back to Winfried, a bit lost on what to do, only to find him already shaking his head with a knowing sigh.

“Just go. It's just patrol, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“…thanks.”

You rubbed your temple and the now healed wound on your head seemed to mockingly throb at your predicament. You didn’t know just how exactly to face him, sure you may have indulged in this game he was playing, but that's only because you never expected anything to come out of it! After all, in what world would Lohen of all people get intimately entangled with some random knight who’s not even one of his own? You thought you two were on the same page, this… whatever this was, it wasn’t meant to get this far. As you stood in front of his room thinking of what to say to him you heard a small pained sound escape from inside. It was small, but sharp and instantly, all your thoughts fly out of your head as you quickly rush inside.

“Ghk…”

Your eyes were blown wide at the sight in front of you. Lohen was doubled over with long, angry red marks spanning across his arms. Fresh blood seeped from the wounds onto white sheets, dyeing them red, and you noticed his lips had also been bitten bloody. His hands continued to dig into the wounds on his arms.

“What are you- Archons Lohen stop!”

On instinct you made grab for the uninjured part of his arm. It was only then that he seemed to really notice your presence, his eyes immediately shot to you, his pupils were dilated and his face was drained of color. The blood leaking from his split lip was a stark contrast to his pallid skin. Despite the state he was in, his bloody lips curled into a smile at the sight of your face.

“You’re here.”

“Of course I- no just what on Teyvat were you doing?!” Your eyes darted down to survey the state of his wounds. The marks were bleeding in thin lines and upon closer inspection you noticed flecks of dead skin and blood beneath his nails, his wounds were clearly self inflicted.

“Haha… can you believe it? Those damn scions keep insisting that I need to stay in bed even though I’m already all better! Even when I refuse their unnecessary treatment they practically lock me up here. So I thought, ‘If I can’t go out onto the battlefield why not bring the battlefield here?’”

Your mouth hung wide open. You were well aware of Lohen’s lack of care for his own body— what with his partiality to poison and headstrong battle attitude— but to think it would reach this extent.

“And hey, look.” He brought a hand to stroke the newly formed scar on your head, the tissue still pink, “Now we match.”

You shuddered at the feeling of warm blood staining your cheek.

In a swift motion, you took hold of his wrist, a tense expression on your face, “Don’t ever do this again, you hear me?”

Lohen huffed lightheartedly before he noticed you backing away. You had planned to go looking for the gauze again when there was sudden tight grip on your hand.

“H-hey, hey. You know I was just joking right? If you didn’t like it I won’t do it again just- just don't leave.”

You squinted your eyes and only sighed wordlessly, “I’m just getting gauze, Lohen.”

He sucked in a breath before reluctantly letting go. I’m just a few moments you were at his side again with alcohol and wrappings. You really didn’t want to dwell on the way Lohen’s face flushed, his eyes transfixed on yours, as you disinfected his wounds. Nor did you want to think about the small, twitchy moans of what you hope is pain every time you pressed particularly hard.

It was when you had begun wrapping the clean bandage that he spoke again, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You halted for barely a moment before continuing the motion, “I haven’t. I’ve just been busy, knightly duties and all.”

“Liar.” Lohen hummed in amusement, “You’ve been avoiding me and yet you’re more fussy over this than your own wound, what’s with that?”

You noticed his eyes flicker to the scar on your head once more, almost relishing in it. You mumble, “Well, better me than you, yeah?”

A heavy silence hung in the air. Perhaps that wasn’t.. the best choice of words. You were about to open your mouth once more when Lohen beat you to the punch.

“Once I’m out of here, it’ll be that bastard Rerir getting ripped apart instead.”

You blinked, an uneasy twist to your lips, “Maybe.”

“It will. Now…” he lifted his blanket and patted the space next to him, “You’ll stay the night, won’t you?”

He never did get a chance to rip Rerir apart.

Rerir’s defeat rang through Nod Krai along with cheers for the heroes. With the threat of the Wild Hunt officially settled the Grandmaster ended the expedition and allowed all troops to return home. A long awaited celebration was held in the Flagship, the tavern bustling with familiar figures.

In the midst of it, you could see Lohen, a smile on his lips with Varka’s large arm slung around him. He looked just as happy as the others, but you could see the tightness in his smile, the way his fist clenched behind his back, a certain hunger in his eyes left unsatisfied.

The knights were greeted just as grandly upon your arrival in Dorman Port. You watched your comrades pull friends and family into bear hugs, flowers and gifts being passed around. Many were in tears and you watched quietly off to the side.

Settling back into a peaceful life in Mondstadt was hard for most. With the constant threats in Nod Krai there was a constant need to be on high alert, now it’s hard not to flinch at the chirp of birds. Of course some struggled, but it was inevitable that sheer relief was the common consensus. You found happiness in the peace as well, finally breathing in air that wasn’t tinged with a trace of blood or smoke did numbers on your stress.

Things with Lohen on the other hand… well you couldn’t tell if they’ve gotten better or worse.

You expected him to forget all about you, to see your little relationship as a stain in his life, a moment of weakness, one to completely erase. Your return to Mondstadt came with the full acceptance of him never looking your way again. What you didn’t expect was that he’d practically be on your heel every waking moment.

“Do you seriously just sit here and… talk to people for hours on end? That's it? Where’s the excitement in that?!”

“…No one asked you to follow me here.” You had been enjoying another idyllic day in Dorman Port when Lohen had sneaked up on you, again, and decided to plop down right next to you, “If you’re so bored then why don’t you go patrolling for monsters again?”

“And leave you here all by your lonesome? Why, I would never,” he tutted, “I’m a gentleman after all.”

“Gentleman?” You snorted, “You wouldn’t know gentle if it had socked you in the face.”

You wonder if it’s you who’s gotten more audacious or Lohen who’s gotten more lenient. If it were as it had been before he probably would’ve used you as target practice for that comment. Despite your biting remark you can’t deny that he has been painfully, well, gentle with you. If you didn’t know any better you’d have thought he was afraid to lay a hand on you. The most he’s done is drag you along everywhere he went, never letting you stray too far from his side. You try to shrug it off, he clearly hasn’t been able to adjust to the change in environment like everyone else, maybe he’s just trying to cling to something familiar.

You really hope that’s all it was

“So don’t grow old on me, ok?”

His voice was like a whisper in the wind, if it weren’t for the traveler’s nod of confirmation it would’ve seemed like he hadn’t said a thing at all. You held your back firm against the wall of the cathedral, you didn’t mean to listen in, really, you just came to pay your respects; but when you heard that familiar voiced tinged with a hint of sadness you froze, unintentionally hiding yourself.

You watched the traveler walk away with their floating companion, their backs retreating into the sunset. The leaves rustled in the wind and you stayed in your spot, hidden behind the wall. You didn’t want to intrude on a tender moment but-

“Just how long are you planning to hide there?”

…of course he noticed.

You slipped out of your hiding spot, “Sharp as ever, aren’t you?”

A light laugh rang from him, “I could recognize your footsteps anywhere.”

You huffed before turning to Adorno’s grave, your expression solemn, “I heard about what happened. I…I’m sorry.”

Lohen’s smile was smaller now, more melancholic, his eyes seemed to be looking somewhere much farther away, “Well, it was due to our own selfishness that he even lasted this long. It was about time that the old man finally gets laid to rest.”

You nodded, a small smile resting on your lips, “…It’s good that you have someone else to open up to now though.”

“Huh?”

“The traveler,” you turned to where the traveler had stood previously with Paimon, “‘don’t grow old on me’ right?”

Your eyes stared wistfully into that spot. There was an unsaid ‘someone other than me.’ You were happy, really. Lohen needed someone else, someone stronger and more capable than you could ever be, and the traveler was a perfect fit. With them, he could reach out to others and he’ll realize that you were never truly that special. Just someone who happened to see him at his weakest

In a sudden motion you felt yourself being held in a tight grip, Lohen’s face buried in your neck.

“Wha-”

“You know you’re all I need, right?”

His voice trembled, the ends of his words fraying just slightly. There was a knot in your throat because this felt too damn familiar, “What are you talking about?”

“The traveler isn’t worth shit compared to you,” his breath tickled your skin, the brush of his lips against it making you spine tingle, “None of them are worth shit.”

“You- Lohen do you hear yourself right now?” You tried to pull him off but his grip remained steely, “You shouldn’t- I just meant that it’s good that you have other people to rely on!”

“I don’t care! Why do you sound like you’re trying to leave me?!”

“That’s not- I didn’t…” You could only stand there with your mouth agape as Lohen trembled in your arms. You wanted to deny it but nothing left your throat. You could only wrap your arms around him and rub soothing circles into his back. You spoke in hushed whispers, trying your best to coax him out of your arms, “Come on, don’t be like this. It’s ok, it’s ok I-” you paused before swallowing, “I won’t leave you.”

“…Promise?”

You let out a defeated sigh, “Yeah.”

“Okay…” He finally pulled back at that, instead opting to bring your hands to cup his face, “Okay.”

You bit your lip. This… this was too far, whatever was going on between you two wasn’t healthy. Air entered your lungs in short bursts as he kissed your palm.

It was high time you put an end to this.

Dear Mother,

It’s been a while since I’ve sent you my last letter. What with the return of the expeditionary force and the endless celebration I simply could not find the time. I’ve been idling my days away here and could not help but think of your face every time I gazed beyond the port.

Days of ever present danger are long gone and it seems I’ve grown accustomed to the peace within the city walls, it reminded me far too much of home. It’s been years since I’ve last seen you, and I’ve come to a realization as well.

You never approved of me becoming a knight, but I was young and ambitious and couldn’t help but defy you. It is only after witnessing true strength that I realize perhaps I was never suited for this path. I had always enjoyed sitting around a fire chatting with friends rather than fighting for honor and glory. With this newfound peace, I think it’s about time I lay this title to rest.

I plan to let the acting grandmaster know of my departure— though I suppose she isn’t the acting grandmaster anymore haha— and plan to set out to come back home. I heard you’ve moved back to Sumeru in the past year and I cannot help but grow excited to taste your home cooked meals again. Good Hunter is nice, but nothing can quite beat you!

Don't worry, you won’t be waiting too long, I’ll be there soon!

“Sincerely, [name].”

A thud echoed in the room as your groceries hit the floor. You stilled at the sight Lohen at your desk, his fingers gingerly pressed against parchment as he dangled it in the air, "What are you doing in my room?”

You thought it was strange when you came home to an unlocked door. You had shrugged it off as paranoia, maybe you had forgotten to lock the door on your way out. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

Lohen hummed, his eyes still on the paper he had just finished reading out, “Sumeru? That's a bit far dont you think?”

“…I asked you a question.”

“Were you really planning to never tell me? Or did you think I wouldn’t find out?” In a sharp motion, he whipped out his dagger, the tip pressed into the parchment before a loud rip resounded in the silence.

Your lip trembled as you watched him carefully tear away at the paper, each rip more violent than the last, “W-why…”

“You promised.” He was walking towards you now, the point of his dagger dangerously close to you, “You said you wouldn’t leave.”

Your back pressed to the door and as you slowly crept towards the handle a hand shot out to grab your wrist. You felt your bones creak at the sheer force in his grip, an aborted gasp leaving you.

“Or were those all empty words?” The hilt of his dagger was used to lift your chin, “It’s not right for a knight to go back on their word you know?”

You chuckled dryly, hoping to all the archons above that it could conceal the fear in your voice, “I’m not a knight anymore, am I?”

Lohen only gave you a blank look, his face mere inches from yours. His breath smelled of Valberries and mint and you felt your stomach turn, “You think I’d let you get away that easily?”

You wanted to laugh, there was one somewhere hidden in the crevice of your chest but all you could do was offer a shaky smile.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Lohen paused at that, his dull eyes bore into you, but he only smiled before pressing his forehead to yours, “You know I wouldn’t lay a hand on you. Not you, never.”

In an instant that hand which had your wrist in a crushing grip twisted your fingers open. Suddenly you felt the chill of cool leather on your skin as you noticed just what was in your hands.

Lohen’s dagger laid there, his fingers enclosing your own around it’s hilt.

Before you could process it his hand had pulled yours forward, the sharp end cutting into his neck. You gasped, immediately you went to pull away but his grip remained firm and there was no way you could ever overpower him.

“If you’re so insistent on leaving, then go ahead. But, just know…” despite the blade nicking into his skin, he smiled, a twisted lovesick smile that marred his delicate features, “My blood will be on your hands.”

“S-stop,” You tugged to no avail, “Lohen, stop,” he leaned in and the closer he came the deeper the knife cut into him, “Please!”

There was a steady stream of blood leaking from his neck but he didn’t so much as flinch, his wide eyes completely fixed on yours, “Say you won’t leave.”

“I won’t! I won’t so please let go-”

“Liar.” He hissed, “You’re lying again aren’t you? Just like last time, you don’t really mean it. Do you really want to kill me?”

“Archons Lohen no! I’m not! I won’t- I won’t ever leave you again ok? I’ll always be by your side, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.I’msorryI’msorry!! Please!”

Your eyes watered as you noticed him pale significantly, the crimson staining the knife a stark contrast to the chalky color of his skin. He was panting now, the blood long having soaked into his clothes, yet despite how frail he looked, his grip over your hand was relentless.

“Hehe, you mean it?”

Slowly, his grip loosened and his hand fell weakly. The moment he let go you threw the dagger to the floor as if it had burned you. You were shaking as Lohen pressed his cold lips to yours, sighing into a closed mouth kiss.

“It’s a promise then. If you try to break it… who knows what I’ll do.”

A wet sniffle left you as he stumbled into your neck. As he stood there, breathing you in, you could feel his hot blood stick to your skin like a brand, forever staining you.

[41n4v15]

I forgot I had tumblr again but hi~~

My fixation is Lohen now ^^

I don't rlly know how the blog stuff works on tumblr so sorry for ppl who don't care abt him

[danijaci]

the bucket tool when there's a small gap:

[luminaur]

The phailings are plotting something ft.Phailings

A little late for Phaiversary so we gonna have three of them (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[neossence]

⟡ TUMMY BULGES WITH VARKA

🏩 "𝑽𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑨," ◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ nsfw varka's cock is big, as we all assumed, and it just causes a little bulge on his wifey’s abdomen when he's balls deep inside her ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა artist credits: @/aveli.nnn on insta plz reblog / like 2 support ⠀ ⃘໋ׅ♡ 𝑤.𝑐: 0.6k ⁀ ˳ ⟡

#⃝ 𝓦ARNINGS ◦ ₊ㅤ ㅤ﹙ smut p i v sex varka’s huge mentions of breeding reader’s body allows tummy bulges unprotected sex varka’s mean & teases you this mf knows exactly what he’s doing 2 u finger sucking mentions of cunnilingus reader is his wife slight dumbification

໒ִ 𓈒ིྀ ˚ ℳINA'S 𝓝OTES ⫽ ୧ྀ ─ I’m writing this before I go to bed after studying and reciting ⁺ ノ masterlist ◦ ₊

VARKA’s cock pulsed deep inside your pussy, your half lidded, pleasure-drunk eyes meeting his teasing ones.

“You feel me deeeep inside you, yeah?” He spoke in a low deep hum, kneeling on the bed before you, his hips pressed against yours. The room felt hot, sweaty, walls too thin for what you two were doing. Mondstadt saw him as the grandmaster, smiling, perfect, and a little empty headed at times. You were the one who saw past the outer shell, who got to experience him at his most depraved state.

His favourite state; being balls deep in his wife.

You hummed softly in response, naked and sweaty beneath him. Your thighs were aching from the past 20 minutes of “foreplay” which he loves so much. Burying his face between your thighs while striking his cock but edging himself so that he could finish inside your warm, sweet hole.

“I’m not letting any of it go to waste, m’kay?” He had told you, before filling you up repeatedly with his sticky white seed.

His hand shifted from your thigh, warmth spreading to your tummy when his large hand pressed down gently. Eliciting a soft moan from you, your hands clawing into the silk sheets, curling your toes and squirming. As if you weren’t already on edge. “Mmm… s-stoppp.. don’t press there,” you whined, left eye closed from the twitching pleasure.

“No?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking, before lifting his hand obediently and staring at your abdomen. “S’hard not to… can see my cock bulging from inside your cute belly,” he hummed lowly, hips slowly pulling back.

It’s almost like you could feel what he was about to do, already watching your back and holding on a breath. His hips slamming forward, knocking the air out of you, a loud moan passing unfiltered through your soft lips. “Fuck… you sound good with me in you, you look incredibly good with me inside you, you smell so good when I’m in you… wanna marry me, doll?” He breathed out, his hand moving from above your abdomen to grab your chin.

“We’re already marriedddd.. stop talking and just fuck me..”

He chuckled, moving to push his index and middle finger into your mouth. “Don’t even need to ask twice…” he grinned, eyes half lidded with blissful pleasure. He blinked, watching you instinctively suck on his fingers with muffled soft moans, before he pulled his hand back, pushing your thighs down against your chest again. Lifting his hips, and slamming back into your again.

Plap. Plap. Plap.

Your breathing had quickened, your head lolling to the side, moaning out loud between every thrust. The room was loud and lewd. A fwop here and a shlorp there. “A-ah.. ah… mmh..!” You moaned out for him, mouth agape, eyes squeezed shut. While he was groaning shamelessly and moving his hips with a desperate pace.

“F-fuck yeah… you love this, don’t you?” He chuckled between his own gasps at your mindless nodding, “love being fucked dumb by me,” he punctuated dumb with a sharper thrust, pressing the gummy head of his cock against your cervix. Before focusing on the quicker, more shallow thrusts.

His pace quickened when he felt the tingle at the back of his spine, that euphoric sensation buzzing through him, before he stuttered and slammed against your hips for the last time.

Cum spurted from the tip of his cock, painting your walls in his warm white seed again. Filling you up for the nth time that night. His body blanketing yours in a warm hug, kissing the tension and stress away on your face. “Y-yeah.. just… a little more, angel..” he breathed out, muscles tightened and sweating all over. Nose nudging against your cheek.

“Just… a few more rounds, I need to see your tummy all big, whether that be from our babies… or just that cute bulge from my dick.”

© 𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 ★ do not copy, translate, or republish my work, do not use for ai training.

[asadmoldyteacup]

Drawing him with my mc so he can get some rest ♡

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ Double Trouble...

(When you C6 them both and this is what you have to deal with now. One day, at least)

[calypsocolada]

SICKNESS | qifrey

synopsis: with hazy memories you wake up in a familiar witch's atelier... an: happy fourth of july! first post in almost a year. i haven't really been inspired to write until I watched this anime and cooked up this story. I had so much fun writing again and I hope you all enjoy! wc: 12k cw: brimmed cap reader x qifrey, enemies to lovers, mentions of blood and gore, convient plot devices, possible ooc qifrey (i'm anime only so my understandings of him and the brimmed caps is limited lol), dubious behavior, not proofread forgive me, fem reader

click here for my masterlist

You woke up when the rain stopped. Head aching just as much as your bones. You groaned and rolled over on the soft bed beneath you, it creaked softly with the sudden movement. You grimaced, a sharp pain in your side drawing your attention. The room you were in was dark, a circular window to your left let in soft moonlight filtering through rain droplets casting shadows across dark hardwood flooring. You blinked a few times, feeling the sharp pain in your side, expecting the wetness of blood or bruising but whatever the pain was it slowly ebbed away to nothing but a dull ache. You sat up, throwing your legs over the side of the bed, cold feet meeting even colder flooring. It woke you up a little as you adjusted to the darkness of the room. The room was warm in its decorations, oakwood shelves full of casting spell books and the art of spell books and art of cooking books. Your brow furrowed. There was a viney plant stretching impossibly across the ceiling and pots of ink and paper on the desk a few feet from your bed. You pushed to your feet, the soft blanket around your body falling back on the bed. The flooring creaked softly beneath your feet as you moved across the room. Propped beside the desk was your broken sword and tattered clothes. You suddenly looked down at the clothes you were wearing now, a simple tunic and baggy pants. Someone changed your clothes. You reached for your sword, the damn thing was broken, just a few inches of sword before it chipped off to nothing. 

What the hell happened? Where the hell were you?

You placed the sword back down and ran a hand through your hair, pulling it back out of your face. Your memory was… spotty to say the least. You remembered igniting your blade in the forest, you think maybe you were fighting someone but nothing comes to you. You sigh a little and turn towards the doorway and startle. There's four young girls crowded in the entrance, not walking past the threshold. They’re eyes wide and observing you as though you were some strange animal on display. You sucked in a breath.

“What… uh…” You stuttered and at the sound of your voice the pink haired girl gasped, grasping onto the blondish green haired girl. Her eyes widened in fear when your eyes met hers. Your memory jumpstarts messily in quick flashes. 

You were tracking her, sword in hand. 

“She looks… human.” The blue haired girl whispers tonelessly and the black haired girl’s eyes sharpen. 

“She is. Mostly.”

“Who are you?” You asked, stepping back, head throbbing. The girls all startled and stepped back away from the door.

“Don’t try for sympathy.” The black haired girl called to you. “We are not foolish enough to think you don’t remember us.” She tried to sound brave but you heard the tremor in her voice. You stepped closer and they all fumbled over each other to step away, terrified of you. 

“I’m not acting. My memory is… hazy.” You say, two of the girls soften. One of them stepped closer to the door as the black haired girl grabbed at her. 

“Coco, careful, don’t pass the threshold, Master said-”

“I know.” Coco responds softly and turns to look at you. She clears her throat and sucks in a slightly shaky breath. “Do you remember me?” You look at her for a long moment. You do but you can’t place why. Your head hurts and you make a face, unsteadily grabbing for the desk chair behind you, you sit. 

“I think so.”

“If you did, I think we’d be having a different conversation.” She says softly, you rub your hands over your face and look at her through your fingers. Another flash of memory, rain beating against you as you grabbed her arm in the dark, yanking her back, pressing your sword to her throat.

“I hurt you.” You say after a quiet moment. Coco shakes her head fast, denying.

“No… no… I mean… a little but I’m okay. Actually… you saved me. I think that's why the master brought you back here.” She says, much to the dark haired girl's detriment. 

“That’s enough.” She seethed, grabbing Coco’s wrist and pulling her away from the threshold. Coco ignored her. 

“Are you hungry, miss? You’ve been asleep for days.” Your stomach suddenly twisted at the mention but you were hung up on her words. You’d been asleep for days?

“She doesn’t deserve to eat.” The black haired girl hisses, yanking Coco another step back. Coco whirls on her. 

“Agott! Don’t talk like that.” She pleads kindly. “She's probably starving.”

“Good.” Agott growls. “You think for a second she had good intentions saving you? She probably just wanted to turn you into the Brimmed Cap’s herself.” 

The Brimmed Cap’s. 

Your head slams with memories. You were sent to track down Coco, given a half assed description of her. You were desperate to prove yourself, to gain power for selfish reasons. You’d played by the rules your entire life and that got you nowhere. You were desperate which so happened to be a perfect personality trait for the Brimmed Cap’s to swoop in and entice you into joining their side. You were no good. No good when you entered that rainy forest with murder on your mind. But one of the others found Coco and when you saw her… she was just a child. You hadn’t known she was going to be a child. 

“Miss… are you hungry?” Coco breaks through your thoughts. Now you remembered all but how you got here.

“Where am I?” You ask a tad forcefully. Agott stepped in front of Coco, such sharp angry eyes for a young girl. 

“That’s none of your business. Coco asked if you were hungry.” She says through gritted teeth. You cocked your head. 

“It’s none of my business where I am?” You ask and revel in the anger it brings the young girl. Yeah… you remembered who you were now and exactly why these girls were so fearful. Agott doesn’t step closer, her hands shaking at her sides. You rise from your chair. “Where’s your master?” You ask in an eerily calm voice. The girls were silent. “He’s not home?” You ask and they flinch. That was answer enough for you. But it couldn’t be so easy that you could walk out of this room, they were fretting about the threshold for a reason. There must be some kind of spell cast over this room that made it more of a prison than anything else. 

“What’re you doing?” the pink haired girl asked, voice wavering.

“You know… I am quite peckish.” You say, eyes looking around the room. The bottles of ink on the desk catches your eye. 

“You are?” Coco asks carefully. You nod your head. 

“Yes.” You say and try to soften your voice but it comes out wrong. No matter what you do you’re scaring these girls. The pink haired girl grabs Coco, they’re all practically holding onto one another as though that would ward off your evil. 

“We’ll go make you something then.” Coco says kindly as she starts to walk away and the girls scurry after her. You wait until you can’t hear their footsteps anymore before sweeping off towards the desk. You grab up the first bottle of ink and sigh. Completely dried out. You grab the next and sigh even louder. Also dried. You place the bottle back down. Your pen was conveniently missing and you attributed that to the master of this place. You walked towards the window, it was still dark out but you had no idea what time it could be. Asleep for three days.. The moments leading up to being brought here were foggy still. You remembered seeing someone capture Coco, she was screaming and crying and scared and just a child. You had raised your sword to the other Brimmed Cap before even realizing what you were doing.

“Traitor!” He had yelled as you ran him through. Then your memory stalled. 

What happened after that? You groaned and sat back on the bed, running a stressed hand through your hair. How did your sword break? And how come your clothes were so tattered? And how did you end up a prisoner in the same place as Coco with no master in sight.

“Miss?” Coco’s soft voice called from the doorway, it startled you. You hadn’t even heard her steps. You sat up. “Would you like hot tea?” You look at the young girl, she must’ve slipped away from the others for them to let her come up here alone. 

“How did I get here?” You ask, hoping with her being alone she’d be less wary. 

“Master brought you here… he said you’d die if we left you out there in the forest.” She explained, fiddling with her fingers. Slowly you nodded your head. 

“Because… I got hurt?” You guessed and she nodded her head. 

“Yes you… you got hurt.” She said smally, as if it was her fault. “You were trying to save me.” You looked at the young girl, something like guilt was eating her up. You weren’t bigheaded enough to think it was all directed at you but at least some of it was. 

“You don’t have to seem so sorry. I’m the villain here.” You said and her eyes snapped up to yours, she started to shake her head no but looked down at her hands instead. 

“I think… you’re a good person… deep down. It showed in the forest. Even my master must think so since he brought you here.”

“He trapped me here.” You point out and she sucks in a breath. “Though it’s definitely better than I deserve.” You laugh softly, shaking your head. She looks up quickly at the sound of your laugh, almost like she was surprised you could make that sound. You sigh into your hand. “Who’s your master?”

“Master Qifrey.” The amusement on your face died in an instant. 

You joined the Brimmed Caps when you were only a child. It was the same sob story as most others that joined probably. Your parents wanted perfection but you never had a steady hand. You failed the second test and that was the first time your father hit you. You had run away later that night to go to your grandma’s house near the edge of the village when a man approached you. He looked scary and called himself Iguin. He took one look at you then casted a spell, healing the bruise on your cheek. 

“Are you alright, young lady?” He asked, his voice scared you. Practically everything about him scared you. You couldn't see his face, just this eerie mask with a giant swirling eye staring at you. You felt dissected.

“I’m… alright.” You answered smally, pressing a hand to your cheek, it didn’t hurt any longer. He laughed and you wondered, scared if you had said something funny. 

“If you were alright you wouldn’t be out running scared this late at night.” He did a little movement with his hands and suddenly a sweet bun appeared in his palm. He offered it to you. “For you.” He offers and slowly you reach out and take it, taking a scared step back. “That’s your favorite, right?” You nod your head and shakily take a bite. It’s perfect, light and airy with peach puree in the middle, just like your grandma made them. You smile. 

“Thank you, mister.”

“Tell me… young witch, what would you do with unlimited power?”

“Unlimited?” You echoed and the masked figure nodded his head, procuring a book from his cloak. 

“Magic without restraints. Without pressure. Without fear.” He offered the book to you. You looked at the leatherbound thing in his hand and foolishly reached out and grabbed it. You never saw your family again after that day, nor did you ever make it to your grandma’s house. Over the years leading up to today you had faced a lot of the Pointed Cap witches and the only one that ever stood out was Qifrey. He seemed desperate for information the times you faced and lost to him. The last time you faced him was… muddy to say the least. But he wasn’t someone you felt comfortable trapped within their grasp. 

“Miss?” Coco’s voice snapped you back into this moment. You blinked a few times. 

“Qifrey, white haired witch?” You ask and the girl lights up a little bit. 

“Yes miss.” She answers with a little smile. But you had nothing to smile about. Iguin had warned you about this man and here you were, a prisoner in his home. 

“Do you have something stronger than hot tea, young Coco?” You asked and she furrowed her brows, not understanding, you sighed. “Hot tea will do.” 

“Yes, Coco, go fetch our guest some hot tea.” Both you and Coco startled when Qifrey appeared just behind her, all soft smiles. You looked away in an instant as Coco greeted him and padded down the stairs leaving you two alone. “I trust you aren’t trying to corrupt my apprentices.” He says and when you look back over at him that jovial smile from a moment ago has disappeared completely. It was a chilling sight. You cleared your throat. You were supposed to be the scary one here. You were the Brimmed Cap witch, you needed to act like it. 

“The night’s still young.” You answered with as much composer as you could muster. Qifrey cocked his head a little, one eye surveying you, you wondered why the other was covered up, wondered if there was even one there to begin with. 

“How is your head?” He asks. Surely he was speaking of your memories and not the constant pounding. He stepped past the threshold and it took everything in you not to move away from him. He showed you no fear. He treated and talked to you like an old friend. It was unnerving.

“I’m remembering, slowly.” You offer cautiously. 

“I meant pain. One of your fellow Brimmed Cap’s hit you rather hard. That could be why your memory is spotty.” He says and your brows furrow. So someone knocked you over the head, huh? You felt around your head until you pressed the base of your skull and gasped in pain, white hot pulses shooting through you. He wasn’t lying, someone did clobber you good. “Take it easy,” His voice was soft, you heard one of the girls call for him at the door and the rattle of a tray being passed from one hand to another. You blinked, eyesight blurry as Qifrey pulled the bedside table close to you and placed the food on it. “Eat. Slowly as to not make yourself sick.” He directs. Your head is still pounding but it is better than it was a few seconds ago. 

The wooden tray in front of you consists of some type of creamy stew, fluffy bread and a cup of steaming tea. Shakily you grab for the spoon and slowly stir it around the stew for a moment before spooning out some and bringing it to your lips. You paused. Delicious. Utterly delectable. “Is it alright?” He asked, sitting in the desk chair across from you. You cleared your throat awkwardly, not speaking but just nodding your head. The headache caused by hunger slowly subsided as you finished the stew and dipped your bread in the remainder of your broth. 

“Do you recall your name?” 

You spoke your name to him in between bites. 

“And how you got here?” He asks. To that you shake your head. 

“I remember…” You trail off. You were in the hands of the enemy, the more you spoke the more of a traitor you were becoming. You swallowed dryly and reached for your tea, now lukewarm. “How did I get here, witch?” At the sudden shift in your body language Qifrey responds in kind. 

“Ah.” As if he knows you're slowly shutting him out. “Well… one of your… team members, though I don’t suppose you can call him that now, saw you save my apprentice. Saw you kill to save my apprentice.” He emphasises. You flinch at the accusation in his tone. 

“I did no such thing.”

“I know Brimmed Cap’s lie but this is beneath you and frankly a waste of breath. I saw you save her.” He says and your eyes snap to him. He saw everything. Of course he did. And of course if he didn’t his little apprentice would tell him everything.

“I wanted the bounty for myself.” You lie. He sits back, closes his eyes and crosses his arms, as if tired of this conversation. 

“Then why didn’t you take her to your master then and there? Why did you whirl around and ask about her wellbeing? These are very contradictory actions as you can see.” He explains calmly. You glared, clenching your jaw but his eyes were still closed. Whatever ward he placed on this room kept you from using your magic, even the spells carved on your skin were useless. “You know… maybe you remember me before or maybe you don’t but I remember you. We’ve fought… three times, correct?” At this he opened his eyes to meet yours and smiled a little, as if recalling fond moments. You stared at him, not giving an inch to how rattled you were. “I beat you once, twice and… that last time… I beat you but only because… you hesitated.” 

You swung out your sword of fire, it sparked as it hit the brunt side of Qifrey’s blade, rain pouring like mad. You kicked out your booted foot, hitting Qifrey’s leg from beneath him as he thudded harshly to one knee and you swung your sword hard enough to cleaver him in half, his sword raised to meet yours, the force of your swing sending him sprawling back to the wet dirt. This is what Iguin talked about as you stalked the prey beneath you, that overwhelming taste of power, of beating a foe stronger than you. You stomped on his hand that held the blade hard enough that he gasped and dropped it, his wrist pinned beneath your muddy boot. You pressed your blade to his throat like you had with so many other foes. But instead of finishing the job, you hesitated. Qifrey broke loose and won back the upper hand just in time for the other Brimmed Caps to come to your aid. Outmanned Qifrey retreated but you had lost once again. 

“That’s a very… hopefully deluded outlook.” You said slowly, the memory dancing around your head like a jester taunting royalty.

“How would you describe it then?” He asks.

“Lack of bloodlust.” You say and a small smile grows on Qifrey’s lips, it was a scary sight. You tensed when he stood up. 

“Still hungry?” He asked, gathering up the things on your tray. 

“If you think kindness will get me to sell out my people then you are wrong.” You say sharply, hoping to break through that carefully crafted wall Qifrey hides behind. You sense he isn’t as happy go lucky as he likes to present. But he doesn’t take your bait. It was cheap bait anyways.

“You’re people left you bleeding out in the mud.” Qifrey says without missing a beat. Your eyes snap up to him as he turns to walk out of the room. “I’ll make you another serving.” And with that he sweeps out of the room. Unfortunately you weren’t as closed off to bait as he was. You blew out a breath and walked towards the threshold. He walked over it with ease so you reached out your hand to test it, you felt the power emanating from the invisible air, crackling like lightning waiting to strike. You pulled your hand away and stepped back. Just one touch would probably send you flying across the room and you were already not in the best of shape. You walked to the circular window and reached out, feeling that same crackling of power, there wasn’t one inch of wall that he missed. You sighed and sat back on the bed just as you heard stairs creaking and Qifrey walked back into the room.

“What kind of spell is in this room?” You asked as he gently sat another tray in front of you with fresh steaming soup and hot tea, this time with two slices of bread. Your stomach lurched at the sight and you were reaching for the spoon in seconds. 

“A simple protection spell.” He says. You doubt it’s that simple. 

“Protecting me from what?” You asked, mouth full. 

“Protecting them from you.” He corrects and your eyes find him again. You were the villain, something you didn’t feel like getting fed in a prison on your own making. You felt more like a fool in a bear trap. 

“I’m not the trump card you think I am.” You say, getting back to your food. “I know you're desperate for information about the Brimmed Cap’s, my master told me so.”

“You’re master?” He asks and he’s unable to keep the interest out of his voice. You’ve ensnared him. 

“Yes. He taught me all that I know.” You look down at the bowl, you can’t remember having food this good in so long. “He carved my first spell into my arm.” Qifrey flinches, that placid look on his face faltering. You look back up at him, elated at having rattled him. You reach for your sleeve, start to pull it up when Qifrey moves across the room in the blink of an eye, hand grasping your wrist to stop you. The sudden movement upsets the table in front of you as your stew tips over into your lap, hot and stinging. You gasp as Qifrey stares at you, almost fearful for a moment. “You could’ve just closed your eyes, witch!” You growled, yanking your hand out of his grip. 

“Apologies.” He breathes out unsteadily. “Are you hurt?” 

“It’s fine, just stings.” You say and suddenly Qifrey sweeps out of the room as fast as he had moved to stop you from showing your arm. You stare after him, confused, then look down at your lap. It was silly to be upset over spilled stew but you wished that witch would stub his toe wherever he was going. You pushed to your feet and pulled off your trousers, using them to clean up the small bit that made it to the ground. Your thighs were fine, the trousers were pretty thick so it saved you from any last burns. When you pushed back to your feet Qifrey walked back into the room and paused at the sight of you. In one hand he held another bowl of stew, the other a spare pair of trousers. His eyes slammed shut, a furious flush spreading across his face. 

“Here.” He shoves the pants your way. Your hand brushes against his as you take them and he shivers, stepping back. You watch his expressions as you pull them on. He was clearly embarrassed. It was… amusing to see him this way. Then your gut slams. He’s your enemy. You grab the bowl of stew out of his other hand and his eyes peek open. Once he deems it safe he blows out a breath and both of you sit back down. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He asks and you glare at him and get back to eating your stew.

“What led to me being imprisoned here?” You ask and Qifrey takes a breath, whatever strange state you saw him in a moment ago was smoothed over. 

“You’re not our prisoner.” 

“Oh I’m not?” You ask, almost laughing as you dip bread in the broth and take a bite. “So I can walk right out of that barrier?”

“Yes.” He says and you actually do laugh. 

“Yes… it will send me to my early grave as well?” You finish and Qifrey nods his head. 

“I only had it up while I wasn’t home to protect the girls. I am home now.” He says simply, not threatened by you, he was right not to be. Not only were you weak, your special sword was broken on the table. You shove to your feet, the bowl rattling but not spilling.

“Shall I test it?” You ask and he makes a gesture like be my guest. You walk over to it and pause. This was clearly a trick but if he wanted answers out of you then he’d have to bring you back from the dead. You walk forwards and flinch as you pass right through the threshold and… nothing happens. You turn back and Qifrey is smiling a little.

“Do you believe me now?” He asks, crossing his legs and leaning back nonchalantly. 

“Foolish witch.” You say before darting down the stairs. You were in some… cozy house. You spot the front door and rush to it, throwing it open and running outside into the pouring rain. You made it down the path when finally the moments that led you being taken here slam into your mind. The final piece of the puzzle. 

Qifrey sits calmly in the room and waits. He hears the front door open back up and squelching as you make your way back up the stairs, drenched from the rain. Qifrey stands, pulling out his paper pad, casting a spell that dries you right up. You don’t meet his eye as you shiver and make your way back to the table of food. Qifrey walks over, grabs a blanket and tosses it over your shoulders. You don’t bid him thanks because you have made a proper fool out of yourself. It wasn’t some random Brimmed Cap that busted you over the head. It was your own master. He’d seen you save Coco, he’d seen you betray him and he was the second one that day that called you a traitor. Qifrey didn’t have a protection spell over this room when he got home because he knew once that memory of yours jogged you’d remember that you have nowhere else to go. Iguin would be looking for you. He’d want to finish the job. All the Brimmed Cap would be on the same page. You were just as much a wanted person as Coco was, though for very different reasons. Very different deadly reasons. 

“I’m useless to you, Witch.” You say, absentmindedly stirring your soup. Qifrey furrows his brows. 

“How so?”

“One of the things you give up for unlimited power just so happens to be autonomy.” You explain. “I can’t speak his name. I can’t write his name. I can’t lead you to him. I can’t talk about our cause or where our base is because the moment he saw me as a traitor those facts must’ve been simply… plucked out of my head.” You say with a heavy sigh. “I’m no more use to you than my broken blade over on the desk.” Qifrey’s eyes move to the discarded blade, the very same one you had pressed to his throat months ago. 

“Blade’s can be fixed, reforged. Everything has uses, even broken things.” Qifrey says, reaching out and grabbing the hilt. It was weird seeing him hold it, he turned it around in his hands, traced the blade until it broke off at the end. “You told me a little. You may not be able to speak his name but you recalled that he was your master. That he carved into your arm, that he taught you all as you said.” You nod your head. “He wiped enough but not everything.” You laughed a little and he furrowed a brow at that sound. 

“It’s not really a wiping of memory. It’s a spell… or rather a curse. One that I agreed to when I was too young to know its purpose.” You explain as Qifrey sets your blade down. 

“What do you mean?” He asks as you get back to eating, not wanting the stew to go cold. 

“You never raise a hand to your master, never speak his name to hurt or uncover him lest you face death.”

“You’re saying this curse… if you speak his name you will die?” He pieces out. You nod your head and stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. Three days without food felt more like a week. Qifrey looks frustrated, he was finally seeing just how useless it was to risk his neck bringing you here. He took the biggest gamble. Bringing you to his atelier of all places. You could’ve been pretending to be on his side to reveal Coco’s location, playing double agent. You weren’t of course but still… risky move on his part.

“Sorry witch, it must sting to go through all this trouble for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothing,” Qifrey responds absentmindedly, his mind was on something else entirely.

“It was.” You insist but he shakes his head, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“You’re alive, that was the purpose.” He says and pushes to his feet. You make a face, shaking your head. 

“Are you listening?” You ask. “I offer nothing. I can’t help you.”

“Fine.” He says. “That is fine. Although I wouldn’t say you offer nothing. You are an incredibly skilled witch, not only with spells but fighting style.”

“I can’t help you fight them.”

“But you can help me train my apprentices.” You freeze at his words. 

“Are you mad?” You ask incredulously, voice a little high pitched. He looks at you as though what he said was normal.

“I’m not mad.” He answers nonchalantly. 

“I think you might be. Maybe you're the one who was dealt a hefty blow on the head.” You say and when he says your name your heart stutters. 

“Coco likes you. She tended over you as you slept. Agott is enamored with your blade. Richeh… well it’s hard to know what she finds enthralling about you but she was in here just as much as Coco and Tetia. They might be scared of you presently but I think you have a chance to do some good. Witches shouldn’t solely rely on magic, sometimes learning basic combat skills and bladework will do good.” You look at him as though he sprouted another head. 

“I haven’t casted a spell normally in… in-- I don’t even know… over probably ten years at this point.” You stuttered. 

“It’s easy, you're adaptable.”

“And you are a complete fool! This is why the Brimmed Cap’s are outsmarting you regular witches! You’re too-- trusting! Too--- kind!” You huff, running a stressed hand through your hair. Qifrey stands and sits beside you on the bed. You stiffen at his proximity. 

“Yet you relied on my kindness after running away then coming back. Does that make you a fool as well?” He asks and it stings because it’s true. You had nowhere else to go. Walking into the forest to be tracked down and killed wasn’t enticing so you turned back, back to the warmth of this atelier. You didn’t deserve its warmth but still you came back. Living in the cold so long it was hard to pull away from that warmth. You bit your lip. 

“I’m… I’m not good with kids.” You say foolishly and Qifrey laughs. 

“Kids are wonderful, and very forgiving.”

“They know what I am. They’ll just fear me.” 

“Yet they made sure to watch over you as you slept.”

“You just have a counter for everything I say don’t you?” You shoot back and turn to look at him. He’s a lot closer now, he’s smiling a little, his eyes crinkled. You blinked at him. 

“Will you do it?” He asks softly. It wasn’t like you had anywhere else to go. Your eyes looked over his face for a moment and when your cheeks burned you looked back down at your food. “I can offer things to you. Things that your old master could never do.” That draws your attention. 

“What do you mean?”

“Protection. As long as you are in this atelier you’ll be safe from anyone that wishes you harm.”

“And outside these walls?”

“I will protect you myself.” He says and you look at him skeptically. 

“You’re full of it.” You say but some weak part of you trusts his words, or just craves something stable. He saved you once to no advantage and that didn’t sit right with you. It was hard to grasp why someone would stick their neck out for you only knowing you are their enemy. 

“I swear to it.” He lowers his head a little to meet your eyes at level. There was no trickery or deception in that look, none that you can tell at least. 

“You’re asking a viper to train mice.” You say and he nods his head. 

“I know.” He says foolishly. “Would you rather I beg and plead? I can.”

“You really are mad.” You blush, shaking your head unbelieving but he slides to the floor on his knees in front of you. Your eyes widen, cheeks burning. “Qifrey-”

“Ah. So you do know my name.” He smiles. Your stomach twists sickeningly. “Please… help me train my apprentices. I need them to be ready for what’s surely to come. I offer my protection, food and shelter to you in return. Please, I beg you accept my offer.” You could barely speak because your heart was effectively taking up space in your throat. You felt less like the viper and more like the mice. A blushing, foolish mess of a mouse. You had to look away, to cover your mouth. 

“Fine.” You answer and Qifrey breathes out in relief. 

“I was prepared for more pleading but thankfully you had mercy on me.” He smiled up at you. You felt sick. 

“Coco, straighten up a little,” You directed as Coco flushed, the wooden sword in her hand wavering in the wind. She straightens but her stance is still wide open, and her grip on her sword is practically floundering. Agott moves in, that girl took your lessons to heart, she was as flawless with a sword as she was with a wand. You were quite impressed. Coco raises her sword halfheartedly to stop Agott’s blow but the force of it cracks the wooden blade and it splinters in half. Agott smiles to herself, sensing an opening and juts her sword forwards right towards Coco’s stomach. You sigh and move in, catching Agott’s wooden blade in a flash before it can strike young Coco. Agott gasps, both girls impressed by your quick movements. 

“Miss?” Agott’s impressed look grinds into annoyance. “Why’d you stop me?” 

“Because we're just practicing, Agott, no need to go for a killing blow.” You say, letting her sword go. She steps back, huffing. You reach out and ruffle her hair. “I’m impressed with your tenacity. Your footwork has improved quite a bit.” You praise and watch in amusement as Agott flushes, trying to keep that annoyed twist to her face. You turn to Coco, her sword broken useless in her grip, she looks positively disappointed. You had been working with Agott a lot longer than the others and although Coco had only been at this for a little over a week, she sure beat herself up over it. You walked over and grabbed another practice sword. 

“Take this.” You say, keeping a softness to your voice. Qifrey had sat in on one of your first lessons with the girls and one of the only things he told you after you ended up making Tetia and Coco cry was to try talking to them softer, nicer. You hadn’t been around kids very much so it was a bit of an adjustment. It was hard not to lash out and berate them because that’s the way you were taught. But after that disaster of a first lesson you tried Qifrey’s way and was happy to find that you really were able to get through to them easier if you talked to them kinder… who would’ve guessed? 

Coco cautiously takes the intact practice sword from your hand as you toss away the broken one.

“Can you show me your ready stance?” You ask and step back. Coco slowly moves into a shaky stance, immediately your mind works at all the openings in her stance, the loose grip on her sword, her elbow extended a bit too much. You heard snickering behind you, Coco’s face fell a little and she flushed in embarrassment. You turned, eyes glaring. Tetia and Agott straightened as if caught. “You two go spar.” You say and they nod their heads quickly and fumble for their swords. Your eyes find Richeh who was currently inspecting ants in the grass. “Would you like to join us, Richeh?” You ask, she just shakes her head. You leave it be. That one was hard for you to figure out. You focus back on Coco, she looks dejected. “Don’t look so gloomy, Coco, you’ve only been at this for a week.” You say as she deflates even more.

“I know, Miss. But I just can’t seem to get the hang of it.” 

“May I ask what you were doing before studying to be a witch?” You ask as Coco lights up a little, nodding her head. 

“I worked in a fabric shop with my mother.” She says fondly. You nod your head. 

“You have to be rather precise while cutting fabric, am I correct?” You ask and she nods her head. “You have to hold the shears a certain way to keep them steady?” 

“Yes, miss.” 

“Think of the hilt of your sword like shears. Your swings will be messy and predictable the looser your grip. But the better your grip, the truer your strike.” You say and her face lights up, she liked your analogy it seemed. “So, show me your grip again.” 

The girls ate happily later that night, their chatter fluttering all the way up to your room where you poured over one of Qifrey’s spellbooks, your stew sat cold on the side of your desk. It had been years since you casted spells that weren’t used for harming others. Mundane spells, like how to heat up water or to shut a door from across the room. It was just busywork, also an excuse to keep a wall up and keep to yourself. You enjoyed teaching the girls but beyond that you weren’t really sure what your place was beyond these walls. What happens when Qifrey’s kindness ran out and you were turned out onto the streets? If the Brimmed Cap’s didn’t snap you up then surely the Knights Morales would. You needed more spells in your roster. Concealment spells, spells to keep food fresh for years on end, all spells you could use on the run. You were hoping one day you would work up the courage to ask Qifrey what spell he placed on your room the first night he brought you to this Atelier. Now that would be a useful spell. 

“Your food is getting cold.” Qifrey’s voice says from the threshold. It startles you but you don’t show it.

“It’s been cold.” You say, flipping to the next page of the book. 

“May I come in?” He asks, lingering at the door like a vampire. You shrug your shoulders. 

“Be my guest.” You say noncommittally. 

“Such pleasure.” He says and you hear his steps approaching you at your desk. “What’re you lost in now?”

“Nothing particularly gripping.” You say and he reaches over to your food and you don’t see him cast the spell but suddenly your food is steaming again. 

“I was thinking we could eat together, since you always eat up here alone.” He says, you turn to see he had his tray in his hand. You furrow your brow. 

“I don’t need company.” You turn back to your spell book. You weren’t one of his apprentices and you surely had no idea how to act around him. This all was too good to be true and in your experience things that were too good would always come to a swift end. 

“You might not need it but… I would like some.” He says and sets his tray next to yours, pulling up a chair. You feel how close he sits, your hair standing on end. You slam the spellbook shut and clear your throat, turning to glare. He’s so close, smiling so softly. “Ah, done studying? Perfect.” He says, pushing your tray towards you. So he wasn’t going to leave this alone. You sigh, relenting. Today’s meal was a pot roast you assumed, you weren’t much of a connoisseur and you sure weren’t picky either. Food was food. But also Qifrey had a gift for cooking, it was unnerving just how good he was at most things. 

“Is it to your liking?” He asks as you eat a spoonful, nodding your head with a full mouth. He smiles. “I tried some different seasonings.” He says and you give him a strange look. It was weird to be talking so casually like him. Months ago you had been moments from taking his life. Now he’s chatting to you about seasonings. Strange. 

“It’s… good.” You say, filling the air. He turns to you at your words. 

“That’s high praise from you.” He beams, you look away, that smile is too bright. “Oh! Almost forgot!” He says, pushing to his feet. “I need to grab something.” He sweeps out of your room and you watch after him, confused. He peeks his head back in a moment later. “Will you shut your eyes for me?” He asks and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“What're you planning, witch?” You ask as you turn away, covering your eyes.

“Nothing nefarious, you have my word.” You hear him draw closer and your skin ignites. “Alright, you may look.” Slowly you turn around. The first thing that catches your eyes in the glint reflecting the light, it takes a moment for your eyes to understand your looking at your blade that had been hopelessly shattered the night Qifrey brought you here. Shattered no more, the blade was fully intact and beautifully sculpted. You sucked in a breath, slowly pushing to your feet. Your eyes bounced from the blade back to his eyes. Words failed you. “Here, take a closer look.” He offers it to you. Slowly you reach out, your cold fingers brushing the warmth of his hand as you take the blade offered to you. It’s hefty, a little heavier than what it was before but it felt entirely better made. You run your finger across the blade as a small sliver of blood blooms. Qifrey gasps and fumbles to grab a cloth from his tray for your finger. 

“It’s fine.” You dismiss, lost in the beautiful intricacies. The leather on the hilt had been replaced with something thicker and easier to gasp. You turn it over in your hand. Qifrey clears his throat. 

“It’s quite sharp as you can tell.” And you can tell he’s inching to take care of your wound. But really it is nothing. 

“Yes. Very.” You smile, meeting his eyes. He’s utterly awestruck at your expression, his breath catching. His cheeks burn impossibly red as you ignore him and look back at the blade. “Who fixed it?” You ask, looking closer at the small details. 

“It uh-- it was um…” He clears his throat. “A swordsmith in Kalhn.” 

“This blade is magnificent.” You beam, you couldn’t remember the last time you had seen something so beautiful. 

“Ah… so that’s what true praise sounds like.” Qifrey mumbles but your mind was entirely elsewhere. 

“What do I owe?” You ask, eyes darting up to him. His brows furrow. 

“Not a thing. It’s a gift.” He says. You shake your head in an instant, offering the blade back to him. 

“I can’t accept this, it’s too fine a blade.” He reaches out and gently pushes it back to you.

“You can accept it because it’s a gift.” He says. You shake your head as he’s nodding his. 

“Witch-”

“Qifrey.” He corrects with a slight smile, you glare. 

“Qifrey,” You say slowly, appeasing him. “I cannot accept it.”

“Why?”

“Why would you fix it for me?” You ask sharply.

“Does everything I do have to come with such close scrutiny?” He asks back. You don’t know how to answer that, not without sounding like the paranoid mess you were.

“No one does anything without wanting something in return.” You say, eyes just as scrutinizing as he described. “I don’t want your charity.” Qifrey sighs, he nods his head and thinks about your words, as if he’s mapping out how to talk to you without offending you. 

“This isn’t charity.” He says. “That blade means something to you, doesn’t it?”

“And what business do you have looking after my happiness?” You say, shoving the blade back towards him. “Do I walk around this Atelier like a wounded dog? Something you need to fix?” His eyes snap to yours. God… you so wish you could anger him into something truthful. You’ve sensed something simmering in him but he is so awfully careful with every aspect of himself. It's unnerving. You’d much rather anger, that’s real and tangible. More so than his false kind words and empty gestures. His breath catches, he’s measuring himself, thinking before he speaks. You strike before he can tailor a response. “What is your plan, witch? Hmm? Once I whip these girls into fighting shape, what then?”

“What? You think I’ll turn you out like a used good?” He asks, his voice wavering. You were getting to him. Good. You needed the truth.

“Yes.” You say. “Yes I do. Am I wrong?”

“Of course you are wrong.” He denies, shaking his head, his white hair moving then falling back into place as though a spell was keeping it perfect. “I have no secret ambitions hidden from you. I have been rather upfront with you from the start.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“That is fine. I don’t expect blind belief. But have I done anything to warrant disbelief in the slightest?” 

“Yes.” You’ve managed to anger yourself into feeling foolish. Attacking someone not worthy of your ire but something about him irked you to your soul. Maybe it was because you just couldn’t figure him out. Couldn’t read him like all the others. He set you off. He kept you on the edge. Your soul squirmed. He raises his brows as if to tell you to list examples. You annoyingly couldn’t think of anything and managed to annoy yourself enough that this conversation felt pointless. Breath wasted in the endeavor to push him over the edge. You wanted to make him squirm, wanted to irk him as much as he irked you. But it was unfair and frankly rude to attack without warrant. You pulled the blade back close to you. You looked at the glint of the steel. “Forget it.” You relent. “I accept if you still want to give this to me.” You say and Qifrey nods his head. 

“Please.” He says and you bite your lip. 

“Excuse my manners. It appears I haven’t any.” You say, placing the blade on your bed.

“I expected as much. Come, let us eat.” He offers, sitting back down, this time you see him cast the spell to warm up both of your stews. 

In the morning you wake to Coco milling about your door arguing with Agott. Their voices bring you annoyance at being woken. You weren’t an early riser. You pushed up, glaring. 

“Does my threshold look like the best place to argue?” You call out to them. The two jump at the sound of your voice, looking startled. 

“Apologies, miss.” Coco says quickly. You sit up, hair a mess, barely awake. You yawn, blinking slowly. “It’s just that… it’s almost past ten and Master Qifrey is still asleep and we're…”

“Hungry.” Agott finishes. You stare at the two of them. 

“Hungry?” You echo. They both nod their heads. “And you’re incapable of… remedying that yourself?”

“Well… Miss… you see…” Coco stutters. “Master Qifrey does all the cooking so we never really had to… learn I suppose.” You yawn again, bigger this time and it pitters out into an annoyed groan. 

“I’m not a skilled cook either.” You say. 

“You made us breakfast that one morning… the meat and runny eggs?” Agott offers. Bacon and eggs, you meant to cook the eggs fully but they ended up liking them. You groan, pushing the covers from your body. 

“Fine. I’ll be down in a moment.” You say and Coco breaks out into a bright smile. 

“Much thanks! We’ll prepare the ingredients.” She says, zooming out of the room. 

“Agott,” You call out, Agott pauses in the door. “Qifrey is still sleeping?” You ask and she nods her head, she can’t keep the worry out of her eyes. 

“Do you think he’s sick?” Agott asks. You think he might be. You never known a morning where Qifrey slept past six am. Sometimes you would still be awake when he’d stir, whistling as he readied breakfast. That was your cue to sleep when you’d hear his merry tune. It lulled you asleep most mornings.

“I’m sure he’s fine, go help Coco.” You say with a soft smile, Agott smiles back, nodding her head as she turns and leaves your room. You quickly brush out your hair, braiding it back out of your face, changing into something comfortable by not sleeping. You wash your face and clean your teeth. You rush downstairs, put on a jovial face and cook breakfast for the girls. You plate their meat and eggs, fixing each one of them something to drink before slipping back upstairs. You peek towards Qifrey’s door. You had to check on him. You swallowed down your nerves and knocked once and waited. You knocked twice and waited. 

“Qifrey?” You call through the door and wait again. Nothing. Your heart plunges to the depths of your stomach. “I’m coming in. Please god be decent.” You mumble the last part and twist the knob, pushing the door open. The room is dark, slivers of light dancing across the carpet from the cracks in the curtains. The room is warm, stagnant. You pad towards his bed, spotting his shape. The way he’s positioned it looked as though he barely made it to his bed before passing out. “Qifrey?” You say softly, gently reaching across the expanse, your hand is mere inches from his shoulder when his hand suddenly shoots out, grasping your wrist. You gasp in shock and his wild eye shoots to you. There’s a moment, a tense moment where you think he has no idea who you are then his grasp slackens. 

“I apologize, I didn’t harm you did I?” He asks, looking close at the part of your wrist he grabbed you at, his thumb gently sliding down a particularly visible vein on your wrist. You yank your hand away. 

“Are you alright? It’s nearly ten.” You say, rattled. His eyes widen, he shoves the covers from his body and pushes to his feet. He falters dizzily at the quick movement and falls forwards a little. Your hands shoot out instinctively, one hand bracing his shoulder, the other on his hip, fingers accidentally slipping beneath his black compression shirt. His skin is clammy under your touch. “Qifrey,” You admonish, pushing him back towards the bed. “Sit.” You say sharply. He does without argument and blink warily. 

“I don’t feel well.” He says, stating the obvious. 

“Yes, I see that.” You press the back of your hand to his forehead. It’s hot to the touch. He moves close to your touch, capturing your wrist. 

“Your hands are so cold.” He states, relishing in the cold as he presses your hand against his hot cheek. 

“Cold hands, cold heart.” You recite, his eyes shift up to yours. 

“Hm?”

“Something my father used to say.” You say and Qifrey’s expression drops. 

“You are not cold hearted.”

“It was a joke. Mostly.” You say. “Lie back.” You guide him back against his pillows, he still hasn’t let go of your hand. He’s quite clingy.

“What’s the diagnosis?” He asks. You pull your hand away and he pouts. 

“I’ll fix you some medicine and something to eat.” You say. “Can you manage a cold bath? It should help you cool off a bit.” You say as he nods his head. “Do that then. I’ll be back in fifteen.” You turn and he catches your wrist again. 

“Thank you.” He says and the warmth in his voice burns you all over. You were berating him just last night. How kind of you. 

“I’ll be back.” You say, pulling out of his loose grasp. You find your way down stairs, whipping up a recipe your grandma taught you years ago and something plain for him to eat so it wouldn’t upset his stomach. 

“Is Master Qifrey alright?” Richeh asks, startling you. You hadn’t heard her approach. 

“Ah… yes. He’s feeling a bit under the weather but I’ll have him fixed up in no time.” You smile down at her. 

“No doubt.” She says and smiles a little back at you before fixing another plate for herself. When you walk back up stairs you push open his door and falter. He’d just got out of the bath, a towel wrapped precariously around his hips. You startle enough that you just about drop the tray in your hasten to turn around. 

“Christ- my apologies.” You say quickly. 

“It’s alright. Not much to look at.” He tries to be funny. You didn’t see much but it definitely wasn’t ‘not much to look at’. You shake those thoughts out of your head. You can’t help the blush, can’t shake that away. “I’m decent.” You slowly turn back. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, red faced and pale. You walk over to him, feeling his face. He feels even hotter than before. 

“Did you take a cold bath?” You ask and he hums yes. You set the tray down. You grasp the medicinal bottle, handing it to him. “Down the whole thing.” You say, he takes it, doesn’t even question what it is. Just does as told. He makes a face. 

“It’s sweet.” 

“No doubt my grandma made it that way so she could trick me into taking it as a child.” You say as he moves closer to you. 

“Ah… family recipe?” He asks and you nod your head, handing him plain chicken broth, he takes it gratefully and sips at it. You watch him, his movements a little sluggish. 

“What happened? You were just fine last night?” 

“I… I'm unsure. It was quite sudden.” He says, popping a cracker in his mouth, chewing slowly. He got a little color back as he ate but his cheeks were still quite red. When he finished his food you took the bowl from him. 

“Alright, lie back.” He does as told as you turn, dipping a washcloth in cold water, ringing it out and turning to dab it on his cheeks and forehead. He settles, making a contented noise, relaxing entirely under your care. 

“You’re skilled at this.” He says. 

“My grandma got sick a lot.” You divulge. His eye squints open, as if he can’t believe you gave him something about yourself.

“Is she..?”

“Surely.” You say. “I’m… unsure though. I sort of… left in a hurry.” He knows what you meant. You had told him how you ran away and joined the Brimmed Cap’s.

“She could still be alive.” He says and you laugh a little. 

“Sure.” You pull back and redip the cloth, ringing it out again, you roll it up and place it on his forehead. “Rest. I’ll come check on you later.” You push up, yet again he catches your hand. 

“Wait-- the girls-”

“Fed. I’ll exhaust them in training. They’re fine.” You say, his hand slides to your fingers. 

“Thank you.” He says yet again. 

“Get some rest.” You say, pulling away yet again.

When you pop in to check on him later he’s fast sleep, the rag on his forehead has fallen off so you walk softly across the room and gently grab it. You feel his face and sigh in relief. He’s not hot to the touch any longer. You fix the covers over him and place the rag on the side table. Your eyes drift back to his face. Looking at him like this, unguarded, felt incredibly intimate, so much so you felt your face flush. He looked peaceful, wholly unguarded. Without thinking you reached out and brushed his hair off his forehead. His cheeks still had a bit of blush to them. Your thumb traced the curve of his jaw, when he stirred a little you yanked your hand back, heart stuttering. He swallowed dryly and his eyes fluttered open. You were standing away from him at this point, pretending to fix him something to drink when in reality you’d rushed to get away from him. 

“Ah… hello.” He greets, his voice rough with sleep. You fix him with a second dose of medicine and some honeyed tea. 

“Sleep well?” You ask, back to him. You hear him pushing up to a sitting position. 

“Yes… I feel… much better.” He says, you turn back and hand him the medicine. He doesn’t question a thing, just throws it back. Then you hand him the tea.

“I suspect the sudden illness was exhaustion.” You say and watch him slowly bring the cup to his lips, taking a sip. He savors it, breathing in the warmth wafting. 

“Yes, I’d agree with that.” He says.

“Have you not been sleeping?” You ask and he nods his head. 

“Not well enough it seems.” He offers a weak smile. 

“Remedy that.” You say at that fake smile. “You worried the girls.” The smile on his lips dies. 

“Oh… yes. I didn’t think of that.” He says, studying the inside of his half empty cup. “You told them I just needed some rest right?”

“Yes.” You say, gathering up the tray to leave. 

“Wait,” He calls to you, you pause at the door. “Can’t you stay? You don’t need to rush off.”

“I have to cook the girls dinner.”

“They are perfectly capable of cooking, they’ve done it time again.” He says. You furrow your brow slightly.

“But they said…” You trail off and he raises a brow. You sigh, setting the tray by the door. “Your apprentices are some tricksters.”

“Ah… did they tell you differently? It’s possible they just wanted some comfort since I wasn’t awake.” 

“I’m sure.” You say. He beckons you closer. You suddenly remember your thumb tracing his jaw when he slept, you didn’t walk any closer. His hand drops back to his lap, he swallows, clears his throat then speaks. 

“I can’t thank you enough.”

“You have. Three times now.” You say and he smiles at that. 

“You’ve kept count.”

“It wasn’t hard.” You roll your eyes and he smiles again, not that fake weak smile from before. A genuine smile and the way he looked at you that made you squirm in your skin. He looked at you the way your mother used to look at your father before times got hard. That blindly adoring look of love. “Is there anything else you need?” You say in a rush, eager to end this moment. 

“Yes,” He says, sitting up more. 

“What?”

“Come… sit with me for a moment.” He beckons you again. You bite your lip hard and walk across the small expanse of his room, you sit at the edge of his bed, he could reach out his hand and brush you with the tips of his fingers if he wanted. “How is the blade faring? Did you practice with it today?”

“It’s slightly heavier than my last one.” You say and he cocks his head. “The smallest bit of weight difference is easy to tell when you use a weapon your entire life.”

“Does that affect the way you use it?”

“No. Just that my swings have a bit more power than before.” You say. “It isn’t a bad thing.” He smiles at that. 

“We should spar.” He smirks, you roll your eyes. 

“I would wipe the floor with you, Witch.”

“I meant when I was better.” He laughs warmly. 

“I know what you meant.” You say and meet his eyes, his eyes light up at your tease. 

“I believe our scoreboard is two to one at this point.” He says and that makes you laugh. 

“I yearn to tie then break that tie.”

“So that’s what you yearn for? To best me?” His voice is rich. The room felt smaller at this conversation. He leans a little closer. 

“That’s my life's goal.”

“You wouldn’t have to do much to best me.” He says softly. When had he gotten so close? 

“Is that so?” You ask and he slowly nods his head. 

“You're rather distracting.” 

“What do you mean by that?” You ask and he reaches across the short distance between you both and tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. You freeze. You were the distracted one. 

“You muddle my brain.” He says. “It’s hard to think properly.” You felt that. You were aware of your breathing and how much you hoped it sounded normal and not as irregular as your heartbeat. Your legs longed to bolt but your body stayed bolted to the bed.

“Once you feel better the fog will lift.”

“It has nothing to do with sickness.” He says and his eye dips down to your lips, he savors the sight, as though he was never allowed to look at them before in such detail. “Though maybe it’s some kind of other sickness.” You freeze again. You dig your nails into your leg and will yourself to get a damn grip. You felt like the hazy one. You had no quips to give, no sharp words, you had nothing. You watch as his eye raises back up to meet your eyes. He doesn’t look caught out or embarrassed that he took his time studying you.

“And… What sickness would that be?” Luckily your voice didn’t sound as shaken as you felt. This time he’s the one that looks away, almost bashfully. 

“One that’s indescribable." 

“How mysterious.” You note, slowly reeling yourself back together. But then he says your name and you feel yourself unraveling. “Hm?”

“Don’t you feel it too?” He asks. 

“The sickness?” You clarify and he quickly nods his head, there was a kind of foolish hope in his eyes. You weren’t sure what you felt but it wasn’t something you’d let yourself explore. You shake your head. “I don’t feel a thing.” You say, pushing to your feet. “I’ll come check on you in the morning.” He catches your hand.

“Just… stay. Please.” He pleads, pulling you back towards the bed. You sit back down, cursing your traitorous legs for not carrying your wanting heart out of this room. It’s quiet, his hand is still holding yours. He speaks your name again before pushing up the sleeve on your arm, exposing warm, carved up skin. You flinch as his finger traces the spell etched into your skin. He’s not looking at it with fear or disgust, not flinching away from it like before. His touch is reverent and you let his touch you, unable to speak. He brings your arm close to him and presses his lips to the scar. You jolt, yanking your hand out of his grip. You burn all over, the soft press of his lips to your arm felt sickeningly good. You were sick. Likely with the same thing that ailed him. 

He speaks your name again then his hand is sliding on your hot cheek, thumb caressing you like you had done to him. You part your lips to admonish him but the thought dies when those gentle lips press against yours. Your heart topples out of your chest, you grip the blanket on his bed so as to not touch him as his lips slide against yours. You can’t stop him. You didn’t want to stop him. He cracked your lips apart and deepened the kiss, stealing away your breath and the last bit of your sanity. You grip the covers so hard that it was starting to hurt, you held onto your restraint like it was the last thing you owned. But it was all done in vain because you were kissing him back, you were making little embarrassing sounds to match his. His hand slid into your hair and he trailed kisses from your lips, turning your head as he trailed his kisses down to your neck. He breathed unsteadily against your neck as your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Shall I stop?” He whispers against your skin.

“No.” Your answer was quick. Too quick to pretend and hurt yourself in the endeavor to keep your hands to yourself. He pulled you to him on the bed, you lost your grip on the covers, your cold hands flying to his face and hair as you pulled his lips back to yours, he laid back on the bed and coaxed you on top of him, his hands sliding to your hips as you straddled him, bodies pressed together as his tongue slid cleverly in your mouth. You pressed him into the comforter as the kiss grew from gentle and exploring into desperate and cloying. Hands touching anything they could as he mapped out your body, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt. God everything was warm about him, his touch and the way he made you feel. This was wrong, you should’ve been able to show more restraint. Has he really bested you for the fourth time? Well really you were on top so maybe this was a win for you? You tug at his shirt.

“Raise your arms.” You direct and he does as told. He was always a good listener. You yank the useless thing over his head and toss it aside. His hands are already pushing up your own shirt and you let him pull it up over your head. He showers your exposed skin with kisses and flawlessly kicks off his pants, you hadn’t even noticed him doing it until he started working on your own.

“Lift your hips for me, please.” He pleaded and you were just as good a listener as he was. He pulled them off, likely tossing them in the same place as his. His fingers traced the outline of your underwear, his free hand coming up to pull your lips back to his. Your hips moved against his and he made a strangled sound against your mouth. Most unclothed and feeling foolishly hot just moments ago you said you didn’t feel anything. He called you on your bluff so flawlessly you hadn’t even known you were in a trap until it was too late. His arms wrapped around you, surprisingly strong. 

“This is a horrible idea.” You say against his mouth.

“You think so?” He asks. “How horrible?”

“Astrnomically horrible.” You lie. “I hate you.”

“Do you?” He questions, back to kissing your throat. 

“Yes… yes I do.” You groan, he sits up so your chests are practically pressed together, his bright eyes looking up at you adoringly. He worshiped you with kisses.

“How much?”

“How much… what?”

“How much do you hate me?” He asks breathlessly against your collar bone. You're unable to answer for a moment. “Hm?” He hums as you tug his hair a little and his hum breaks off into a whimper.

“So so much.” You lie again. “Sometimes it's all I think about.” 

“Yeah?” He mewls, hands cloying.

“Don’t you hate me the same?”

“Not one bit.” He answers quickly he’s on top now, burying you into the mattress, showering you with kisses. He’s unable to verbally spar with you anymore and you the same. He speaks your name like a litany and you hate that you don’t hate him at all. No… you like him more than anyone you’ve ever known. Though the word ‘like’ wasn’t nearly a strong enough word but thinking past that made your head hurt and right now it was muddled enough. Neither of you let the other leave the bed the entire night and when you woke in the morning, a soft light casting across the room. Qifrey laid pressed against you, his shirt had ridden up a little in the night and the clothes you had thrown back on to sleep in were rumpled. You were tangled with him beneath the covers, his chin laid against the top of your head. You let him soak up the last of the cold inside you and listened to the soft rhythmic sounds of his breathing. You moved a little and he stirred, his arms tightening around you, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“Almost can’t believe you're still here.” He says softly against the top of your head. 

“It’s not like you're giving me much space to leave.” You throw back and feel him smile against you. “You seem moments away from casting that spell to keep me trapped in your room again.” 

“Don’t tempt me.” He speaks warmly, his voice a little deep from sleep, his accent soft on his tongue. 

“I should leave. Before the girls wake up.” You say and his arms tighten around you.

“Don’t go. Not yet.” You remember all those months ago walking up alone and confused in his room, a spell casted to keep you in. There didn’t need to be a spell now, you didn’t want to leave. But you also didn’t want to scar little witches. You push up and he pouts and groans.

“Someone has to be the mature one.” You say, warm feet hitting the cold hardwood flooring. You gather the rest of your clothes and walk towards his door. Qifey follows and gently stops you before you can slip away. 

“This… meant something to you, right?” He asks nervously. You almost laugh. You kissed him back. You pulled his clothes off. You stayed in his bed in his arms until morning. What about any of that made him think you didn’t care? You weren’t the best with words but you felt your actions were pretty clear. 

“I’m sick. Same as you.” You say and hope he gets the meaning. Which he does because the smile that fits to his lips is filled with relief and adoration. He steps in the way of the door and bends slightly so he can kiss you once more. But then it’s twice and thrice and you drop your stuff on the floor and stumble back to bed.                                     

[dreaming-potato]

omega Qifrey x omega gn!Reader

This is not as well developed but just some thoughts I had

Qifrey, who usually acts very sweet and caring, has a strong need for control in all parts of his life.

Idea for a sweet submissive omega reader has no attraction to alphas. They fit so many of society's expectations for omegas, being soft, sweet and good with children, but they, in fact, do not want any alpha.

I love the idea of people assuming one of the omegas and alpha Olruggio are the lovers rather than the two omegas. Reader looking at the person, kinda offended because no way would they be with Olruggio, he is a lovely guy, but just their friend.

Give omega Qifrey, who has a more dominating scent, who started scenting Reader because that's what friends do. A reader who is a bit oblivious or even in denial that Qifrey and Reader could be anything more than friends or even packmates. Qifreu, who is obsessed with Reader always smelling like him.

Qifrey is trying to woo the Reader when they moved into the atelier, only to realize they've been stealing clothing for their nest already. Qifrey becomes rather bold in his pursuits following this. He absolutely lures Reader into his nest, and would love to keep them it in forever. Unfortunately for Qifrey, reality is not so kind as to allow this.

Masterlist

[lim3s]

What if someone at a market mistook Qifrey and Reader of the parents of one of the girls. Who would be the one to go along with it to escape, who would try and quickly correct them or would one or both of them be having an internal freak out.

This could work for both them being in a relationship or before hand

Qifrey and Reader getting mistaken as parents by a vendor!

Qifrey x reader

cw: none

AN: I'm alive, at least I think I am. After having to write my diploma which is 70 pages of nothing but science this was such a welcome change you have no idea. it's still just a blurb as I'm getting into writing fics again. Thank you for the request Anon and for being so patient with me 🤍🤍

"If it meant being with you"

The morning air is bright in that particular way it only ever is on market days—cool enough to wake you fully, warm enough to promise something sweet later. You can hear the town long before you see it: chatter spilling over itself, laughter ringing like little bells, the clatter of carts rolling over stone.

Behind you, footsteps shuffle.

“Teacher, wait—no, not like that, you’ll step on—”

A soft thud and a sharp “Ow!” follow, immediately answered by a chorus of panicked apologies.

You turn just in time to see Qifrey pivot gracefully on his heel, catching Agott by the sleeve before she fully collides with a stack of wooden crates. His movements are as precise as ever, a quiet magic to them even without a spell circle in sight.

“Careful,” he says gently, though his tone carries its usual edge of amused reprimand. “The market is not an obstacle course.”

“I wasn’t trying to—!” Agott huffs, cheeks pink. “They just stopped suddenly!”

“I stopped because you ran,” Coco adds, half exasperated, half delighted, her eyes already darting toward a stall selling ribbons dyed every color imaginable. “Teacher Qifrey said not to get separated!”

Tetia nods vigorously beside her, clutching the strap of her bag with both hands. “It’s so crowded… but also so fun!”

You smile at them, the expression coming easily. It’s rare to see all of them like this—relaxed, buzzing with curiosity instead of tension or fear. Market days are one of Qifrey’s few indulgences for his students, framed as “practical observation of everyday magic,” but really… it’s just a day to be kids.

Qifrey straightens, then glances toward you.

“Shall we proceed?” he asks, offering a hand in your direction—more habit than necessity, but you take it anyway.

His hand is warm. Always is.

You fall into step beside him as the group moves forward, the students fanning out just enough to look at everything while still staying close. Stalls stretch endlessly ahead: jars of glowing ink, bundles of herbs tied with twine, enchanted brooms leaning lazily against walls, pastries dusted with sugar that sparkle faintly under the sun.

Coco gasps every few steps.

“Look at that quill!”

“That bread is floating—!”

“Is that a charm for faster knitting?!”

Qifrey answers questions as they come, patient and attentive, but you can feel the shift in him today. He’s… lighter. Less guarded. The rigid line that often defines his posture softens as he walks beside you, shoulders easing, steps unhurried.

At one stall, Tetia tugs gently on your sleeve.

“Um—can I show you something?”

You lean down as she points to a tiny glass orb filled with swirling light. “It’s beautiful,” you say honestly. “It looks like a captured sunset.”

Her eyes light up. “That’s what I thought too!”

Qifrey watches the exchange, lips curving faintly.

For a while, everything is perfect.

Then it happens.

You’re stopped near a fruit stand—Agott arguing (politely, for once) with the vendor about the authenticity of a charm carved into the scale—when a woman nearby laughs softly.

“Oh,” she says, nudging the man beside her. “Look at them.”

You glance up, confused, just in time to hear her add warmly:

“What a lovely family.”

The words settle into the air like pollen.

Your brain catches up immediately.

Qifrey’s… does not.

You feel it through his hand before you even look at him—the sudden tension, the minute tightening of his grip. He stiffens, posture snapping back into that familiar, composed line, as if bracing for impact.

“P-pardon?” he says, polite smile strained just a fraction too tight.

The woman gestures vaguely toward the students, who are now clustered together, comparing fruit sizes with great seriousness.

“Your children,” she says. “They’re so well-behaved. You must be very proud.”

There’s a beat.

Then two.

You feel Qifrey freeze completely.

Oh.

Oh.

You bite back a laugh—not unkind, just… fond.

Before Qifrey can respond (or combust), you gently squeeze his hand and step forward, offering the woman an easy smile.

“Thank you,” you say lightly. “They’re a handful, but they mean well.”

The woman beams, satisfied, and turns back to her shopping as if she hasn’t just dropped a social spell of unprecedented power.

The moment she’s gone, Qifrey leans toward you, voice low and flustered.

“Y-you didn’t have to—!”

“It’s fine,” you murmur back, still smiling. “Really. It’s an honest mistake.”

He opens his mouth, closes it, adjusts his hat.

“…I see.”

His ears are pink.

The students, oblivious, continue their debate.

“Teacher Qifrey,” Coco says suddenly, “can we get these? They’re only a little enchanted!”

Qifrey clears his throat. “We’ll discuss it.”

Agott narrows her eyes. “You’re acting weird.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

You step in before that turns into something else. “How about we find lunch first?”

That settles it. Food always does.

You walk on, the market swallowing you up again—but something has shifted. Qifrey is quieter now, thoughtful in a way that pulls his gaze inward. His hand remains in yours, though, and he doesn’t let go.

Not once.

Lunch is eaten on the edge of a fountain, the students sprawled around with bread and fruit and far too much energy. Coco chatters about spell theory, Tetia shares bites of pastry, Agott pretends not to enjoy herself but absolutely does.

Qifrey watches them with a softness he rarely allows himself.

You watch him.

Eventually, he stands. “I’ll… be right back,” he says. “There’s something I need to check.”

You know better. It’s an escape, not an errand.

“I’ll come with you,” you say, rising smoothly.

He pauses, then nods.

You leave the students under Coco’s very earnest supervision and slip away down a quieter side street. The noise of the market fades to a hum, replaced by the soft creak of wooden signs and the distant call of gulls.

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

Then Qifrey exhales.

“…I apologize,” he says suddenly.

You blink. “For what?”

“For being… unsettled earlier.” He adjusts his gloves, fingers precise but restless. “I should have corrected that woman.”

You tilt your head. “Did you want to?”

He stops walking.

Sunlight filters through the awnings above, painting his mask in soft gold. When he turns to face you, his expression is unusually open—unguarded.

“I was caught off guard,” he admits quietly. “The implication was… unexpected.”

You smile gently. “It happens. People assume things.”

“Yes,” he says. “They do.”

There’s something else there. You can feel it, hovering between you like a spell not yet drawn.

You wait.

Qifrey hesitates, then sighs—long and honest.

“…I did not dislike it.”

Your heart stutters.

He meets your gaze fully now, voice low but steady.

“The idea, I mean. Being seen that way. With you.” A pause. “As something… shared.”

The market breeze carries the scent of apples and ink and warm bread.

You swallow. “Qifrey—”

“I know it’s foolish,” he continues, quickly now, as if afraid to lose momentum. “And inappropriate, and I would never allow such assumptions to affect the students, but—”

You reach out, fingers brushing his sleeve.

“Hey,” you say softly. “It wasn’t foolish.”

He stills at your touch.

You smile, small and sincere. “If anything, it was kind of sweet.”

His breath catches.

“…Sweet?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle. “I figured brushing it off was easier than making it a whole thing. They didn’t mean anything by it.”

Qifrey studies you, searching your face.

“And… if they had?” he asks quietly.

You hold his gaze, steady.

“Then I guess I wouldn’t mind either.”

The silence that follows is full—not empty.

Qifrey’s shoulders relax, tension draining from him like a released enchantment. When he smiles, it’s soft, genuine, and just a little shy.

“…If that title meant being together with you,” he says, barely above a whisper, “I believe I would welcome it.”

Your chest warms.

You don’t rush it. You don’t need to.

You just step closer, resting your forehead lightly against his mask, laughter and market noise distant and irrelevant.

“Well,” you murmur, “we’d better get back before the kids adopt a goat or something.”

He laughs—quiet, real.

“Yes,” he says. “Let’s.”

And together, you turn back toward the sound of your very not-children waiting for you.

Like the content? Be sure to let me know by interacting with this post or simply saying hi, it means a lot!

[bimmyjimmy]

my bf took a picture so i can show how me and jimmy go to sleep together… he is my plushie

[bimmyjimmy]

He also took this one when Jimmy realized he was awake and able to give him breakfast

[iamaslutfor3dman]

Sukuna x Fem Reader [Modern Era]

Part 1 ( Part 2 ) Summary: you and sukuna are mafie couple (kinda) Warnings: sukuna is asshole, bullying, suicidal thoughts, family dysfunction, cannibalism, bit darks so yeah. A/T: I promise you my first born and my left kidney this one has a happy ending and pls still keep me on your invite list for your sukuna theme birthday party ☹️

You met Sukuna when you were trying to kill yourself. Simple as that. There was no love story, no tension, and no love at first sight. Just a depressed girl trying to end it all and an insane psycho on the wanted list saving her.

He didn't even save you because he cared or felt bad. No, it was because you chose a building that was his warehouse holding many illegal things, and if you died there, it would draw unwanted attention.

So he saved you. But it was more like he saved himself a lot of problems.

He was the most selfish man you had ever met. He was so insane, so crazy, that he was almost free. He was wanted everywhere he went; everything he touched turned to blood or death. He had no love to offer and no empathy whatsoever.

He was wanted for everything under the sun and more. This man had cannibalism on his list, so it was no surprise to see any crimes he committed.

He just did not care. No fucks are given. He was 23 when you two met, and you were just turning 20. Life has been harsh and unkind to you. With nobody to understand and no friends to count on, you were slowly losing it.

The bullying from school, the family dysfunction, the emotional absence of your parents—what broke the camel's back was when your mother's boyfriend tried to assault you, and she kicked you out for seducing her husband. She had always been jealous of you and everything you had done. She had picked a strange man over her own daughter.

You saw the empty warehouse, and it was tall enough that you wouldn't survive and become even more of a pain in the ass by being paralyzed or something like that. So, on the third night of being homeless, you have had enough. The winter was harsh, and you had seen everything by now.

Death would be rest; it would be a comfort compared to this.

Standing on the edge and looking down, the wind was stronger here, and it was so cold too. If the height did not kill you, the winter would do the job.

You didn't even have anyone to text "I love you" or "thank you" to. That was how pathetic you were. Letting the last tear drop to your cheek and closing your eyes, you let go.

But then there was a hand.

Someone pulled you backward.

God? Had he finally answered your call?

No, it was actually the devil himself.

As you lay on the ground, looking up at him, he sneered, “What a silly little girl you are,” and blew smoke in your face.

You lay on the cold ground, staring up at Sukuna, who stood over you with a disdainful look.

“What… dude, what is your problem?” You asked, your voice trembling.

Sukuna's expression remained unchanged. “Look here, if you want to kill yourself, do it somewhere else. I don’t want any trouble here, you hear me?”

His words were as harsh as the winter wind. There was no hint of sympathy, only a blunt demand for you to leave. The lack of compassion stung almost as much as the cold. You realized, in that moment, that his concern was not for your well-being but for his own convenience.

You looked at Sukuna, feeling a bitter mix of frustration and resignation. You can't even die in peace, you thought, but you nodded in defeat. “Fine,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

“You see that building over there?" He pointed to the tallest building. "It’s taller. Trust me, you wouldn’t survive that one, so do it there.”

The harsh reality of his words cut deep, but there was a grim sense of finality in them. Sukuna’s indifference was almost a relief compared to the constant emotional turmoil you’d been through. You turned to leave, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders.

“Wait, little girl, come here,” Sukuna’s voice cut through the frigid air. You turned to see him sitting on a broken air conditioner, smoke curling from his cigarette. He was shrouded in a dark hood, his face was partially obscured, but his imposing figure was unmistakable. At well over 6'5", he was a mountain of muscle, dressed head-to-toe in black.

“Do you need a job?” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he took another drag of his cigarette.

Confusion etched on your face, you hesitated. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” he replied, unfazed by your surprise. “I have a job if you want it. Are you good with numbers?”

The offer came out of nowhere, and you weren’t sure if it was some cruel joke or a genuine opportunity.

“Yeah, I’m good with numbers…” you replied, your voice trailing off.

“Good, good,” Sukuna said, his tone almost indifferent. “You see, I need someone who can count money—lots of money—make sure it’s real, and handle drug calculations. You think you can do that?”

You thought about it for a moment. Considering you were on the brink of death and your situation couldn’t possibly get any worse, why not? What did you have to lose?

“Yeah, I can. When can I start?”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his eyes. “You won’t even ask how much you’ll make?”

“I don’t care if it’s more than ten bucks,” you said, your desperation clear.

Sukuna’s smirk widened slightly. “Alright then. I’ll give you the details later. For now, just stick around.” He tossed a key and some cash at you. “From now on, you’ll live here. This place has a bed and a bathroom. I’ll get you whatever you need. Rest for today, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You caught the key and the cash, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. It wasn’t the kind of opportunity you had ever imagined, but in the face of imminent despair, it was something—an unexpected chance to pull yourself out of the abyss.

“Thanks,” you muttered, though you weren’t sure what you were truly thankful for. The promise of a bed and some semblance of stability, however tenuous, was a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil.

<^>

That was how it all began. The empire you and Sukuna would build, and in just a little over four years, you both were millionaires with so many properties and so many things ahead of you.

The empire was built on the bodies of people who were your enemies or were just in the way. You were the brains, while Sukuna handled everything else. You handled the drugs and money laundering while others managed other parts, but you brought in more money than any of them combined.

Of course, you had gotten into trouble before, or there were some spies within the ranks, but you both could overcome anything.

Over the years you had known Sukuna, you and he had gotten to know each other on a deeper level. People may not believe it or choose not to believe it, but there was no sexual relationship for the first four years of your friendship.

He had surprised you in so many ways, and you owed him your life, even if he didn't care.

You realized that he indeed had many undiagnosed issues, but you were not there to solve or figure him out, and that is what he liked about you. You weren't fixing or changing him; it was actually the other way around. He was doing the fixing.

He loved how easy it was to be with you. You just knew when to do or say things. No one could read Sukuna like you. No words were needed for you both to understand each other. Some people found it weird and disturbing, but he did not give a shit.

He never felt judged when it came to you. He could talk about the most outrageous things, and even if you did not agree with his ideas, you would listen and understand his thought process. No one had done that for Sukuna before.

He did not realize it, but he had come to depend on you in many ways, both emotionally and for business. He trusted no one and talked to no one except himself or you. This man could not trust his own shadow but trusted you with his money and where he had hidden it. Sometimes he even gave you some to hide for him.

One night while he was high, he told you about his crimes, and you asked many questions, all of which he answered correctly. You knew this man was and is evil and will continue to be his way. He would not change or be fixed. He told you that was why he did not like women too much.

"They all try to fix me. I don't need to be fixed, Y/N. You know that, right?"

Of course, you did. You nodded, rolling his joint. He told you what the business future would be and how it would move forward. Sometimes he told you about his long-lost twin brother, Sukuna, who was kicked out after his first kill. He had not seen him for a long time.

"Did you miss him?" He was now lying on your lap. You were both in bed. He had come to your house in the dead of night to talk. He liked to touch your skin—nothing sexual but just to cuddle you naked. That was when you saw his never-ending tattoos. He was like an art museum in a person. He was an art.

"I don't know. We were never close. He was a good person, and I cared for him. When we were hungry, I cooked for him, cleaned him, and was a big brother to him, even though we were the same age. He needed someone to look after him. Grandpa was getting old and was busy. I knew him in the womb; I should have eaten him there. I remember I was hungry…"

Things he said didn't make sense sometimes. He saw dreams and felt things that made no sense, but he saw and felt them.

The longer you two knew each other, the clingier Sukuna became. He slowly moved in with you. It took a year, but now he is here all the time. He slept in the same bed as you, but with his body and height, you had to upgrade the bed and quality. He even slowly started taking showers with you. Seeing each other naked was no surprise to you both.

He was not aroused, and you weren't either, but he had this constant need to touch you in some way and be closer to you. You two became inseparable. You two were slowly becoming one person.

It took a while for you to open up to Sukuna, but slowly you did. You two would sit in a bath and talk about your life, your trauma, your thoughts, and your dreams. You told him one day you wanted to go to art school and do something with that. The next day, he got you a notebook and hired someone to teach you art.

You came to realize Sukuna was selfish, an asshole, a psychopath, and all of the above, but he had a side to him, like the moon. There was an unseen and dark part of him that was so vulnerable and caring in his own twisted way. In his own way, cannibalism was love. Just like kissing, when he loved someone, he wanted to give himself wholly to others but also take the other person as a whole.

Not many people could handle that and match his intensity like you did. Sometimes you were more intense, and he got surprised by the things you said, like your opinions on current politics or the meaning of life, souls, human patterns, even as useless as celebrity gossip.

<^>

The first time he kissed you was on your 24th birthday, and after that, everything spiraled out of control. Your whole life, you had never been in a relationship or even wanted one. In this business, there were many men who tried things with you, but they got turned down quickly. It wasn't because you had someone in mind; you just weren't interested. Your view on relationships was shaped by your parents' marriage, and if that was what marriage looked like, you wanted no part of it. In a way, it was a trauma response, but who gives a shit.

He kissed you in bed after you had taken a shower and finished everything in your very dark house. He just got up and kissed you. The kiss was exactly how you imagined Sukuna's kiss would be. He might as well have sucked your soul out. You tried to get away, but he held the back of your neck tightly. You tried to hit his chest or push him away, but that just made him pull you even closer. Your lungs were burning, and the way he tasted made you feel fuzzy and dizzy. After the shower, he didn't bother putting anything on, and that just added to the strangeness of it all.

He had never shown any attraction to you unless you count the fact that he can't, in fact, live without you. He had seen every part of your soul and body. Yes, your relationship with him was strange and unique. At some point, you gave up and let him kiss you, your hand on his heart, and you could hear it. He was on another planet.

The kiss lingered, turning from something forceful into something almost tender. His grip on your neck softened, and his other hand moved to cradle your face. You could feel his breath mixing with yours, and the heat of his body against your skin. The room seemed to close in around you, with only the two of you existing in that moment.

When he finally pulled back, he looked at you with an intensity that was both frightening and mesmerizing. His eyes seemed to pierce right through you, as if he was seeing into the deepest parts of your soul.

“Why did you do that?” You whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Sukuna smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Because I wanted to,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

You wanted to argue, to demand more of an explanation, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just stared at him, searching for something in his expression that might give you a clue to his thoughts. But as always, Sukuna was an enigma.

From that moment on, things changed between you. The line between friends and something more became increasingly blurred.

Everything was the same, yet nothing was the same. The main difference was that Sukuna now had to kiss and suck your face for at least 10 minutes every hour. He seemed insatiable, constantly craving the taste and feel of you. His kisses were rough and intense, leaving your lips swollen and bruised. He loved to bite and suck your blood when he kissed you, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your head spin.

You tried to push him away at times, but this gigantic man wouldn’t budge an inch. He held you firmly, his strength overwhelming, and you had no choice but to surrender to his passionate advances. Despite the roughness, there was an undeniable heat between you, a magnetic pull that made it impossible to resist him.

Sukuna’s need to be close to you, to touch and taste you, became a constant in your life. He was possessive, always wanting you near, wanting to touch you, wanting your attention on him 25/8.

One night, you were both high and making out. He had started to kiss your neck, leaving hickeys. It was all going too fast, but he stopped himself, surprising both of you. When he met you the next day, he never talked about it.

Two months later, it happened again. This time, he did not stop himself. He looked into your eyes to see if you didn’t want it, but he saw nothing. He took you to his car and went to a secluded area, saying nothing, just caressing your thigh. What you two did was not sex or a fuck. It felt like you exchanged souls—some sort of ritual. It was dark and intense, and you were certain you saw Sukuna’s eyes become even redder and saw his eyes double.

It was your first time, and he knew it. It was slow; he bit and sucked your blood more than you could count. The drug in your system, with him being inside you and constantly blowing smoke on your face, made you just crumble. Your body was red and purple by the time he was done with you.

No one could touch you but him. You were his to keep and use.

You did not go out the whole week after that, and when you did, he told you that if any man or woman tried to touch you, he would kill them.

When you saw his eyes, you realized he was serious.

You had slept with a man with many issues and a dark past. He had no soul, no empathy, no nothing. His pleasure was yours. You lived to serve him.

Sukuna never made it official. He was an official liar and manipulator, but he had a soft spot for you. As long as he was not denying you, you did not care what others thought or said.

<^>

2 years later/present day

"How are you related to Sukuna Ryomen?"

"I am his wife."

"Do you have a marriage certificate to prove that?"

"Yes, but I do not have it with me now."

"How is your relationship with Sukuna?"

"I just told you." The black sunglasses you were wearing made it difficult to see your true emotions, but it was clear that he would not get any information out of you.

"Look, ma'am, we just want to help you, okay? If you could testify against your husband, trust me, you would not have any sentencing. You are the key here. You knew he was a monster and a killer. If you can just tell us what you know…"

"Look, officer, all I know and all I have ever known is that Sukuna is my husband. I do not know what kind of job he did or his business. Frankly, I do not care. And I will not testify against my husband."

The officer sighed, frustration evident in his eyes. He leaned forward, his voice taking on a more urgent tone. "Ma'am, you have to understand the gravity of the situation. Sukuna Ryomen is not just any criminal. He's involved in some of the most heinous crimes imaginable. If you don't cooperate, you'll be seen as an accomplice."

"I understand what you're saying, but Sukuna is my husband. I made my choice, and I will stand by him."

The officer leaned back, his frustration written all over his face. He wasn't getting anywhere with you, and he knew it. "Alright, ma'am," he said, standing up and gathering his papers. "We'll continue this tomorrow."

As he left, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Meeting with at least three officers a day was exhausting, but you had to stay strong. This was their plan—to wear you down until you slip up. But you wouldn't fall for it.

You understood their motives. Each officer wanted to be the hero who brought down the infamous Sukuna Ryomen, and you were the key to their success. What they didn't realize was that you had meticulously changed your identity, scrubbing your past clean. To the outside world, you were simply the mysterious and beautiful wife of Lord Sukuna. No one knew anything about your true background except Sukuna himself.

Sukuna had always been cautious, eliminating anyone who got too close to the two of you every two years. "People shouldn't know too much about us," he would say. "The less they see and know, the better."

You replayed the events that led to this moment in your mind. Sukuna had made just one mistake, a single misstep that had triggered this entire mess. It was a minor slip-up, but in his world, even the smallest mistake could have catastrophic consequences.

It had happened a few weeks ago. Sukuna had been working on a major deal, one that would have secured his empire's future. Everything had been meticulously planned, but an unforeseen variable—a mole within his ranks—had thrown everything into chaos. The mole had been planted by law enforcement, and their information had led to a raid on one of Sukuna's most important operations.

Despite his best efforts, Sukuna couldn't cover up the evidence. The raid had resulted in several arrests, and those arrested had quickly turned informants, pointing fingers at Sukuna. The authorities had pieced together enough evidence to launch a full-scale investigation, leading to your current predicament.

Sukuna had anticipated this and had made arrangements for your safety. "If they catch me," he had said, "you must deny everything. Stay strong. We have contingencies in place."

And so, here you were, facing daily interrogations, holding firm to your story. You would protect Sukuna, just as he had protected you. No matter the cost, you were determined to see this through.

Your marriage to Sukuna happened only a year ago, and it was the happiest moment of your life. You had hoped it was the same for Sukuna. The ceremony was simple and secret, just the two of you in the middle of the night. He had spent the entire day exhausting you with sex and kisses, and in a haze of intimacy, he had casually asked if you would marry him.

That was it. No grand gestures, no witnesses, just the two of you.

No one even knew you were in a relationship, let alone married.

After the marriage, Sukuna had insisted you quit working. He wanted to give you a normal life, one where you could do anything and meet anyone—as long as it was approved by him. Yes, he was beyond controlling and jealous, possessive, and exhibited every red flag in the book, but somehow, it worked. The relationship and the marriage worked.

You had always wanted to be on autopilot, to let someone else take the reins, and Sukuna was the ultimate control freak.

In his world, control was everything. He dictated the terms, and you followed, finding a strange comfort in his dominance. The life he gave you was one of luxury and protection, albeit with the caveat of his stringent rules. He monitored your interactions, vetted your acquaintances, and kept a tight grip on every aspect of your life.

Despite the constraints, there was a deep, undeniable connection between you. Sukuna’s intensity, his fierce protectiveness, and the raw passion he had for you made you feel alive in ways you had never experienced before. The way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the world that mattered, made all the control and possessiveness worth it.

Your days were filled with a mixture of lavish experiences and quiet moments of intimacy. Sukuna showered you with gifts and affection, but it was the private moments that you cherished the most. The way he would hold you, his touch, both gentle and commanding, made you feel safe and loved.

The secrecy of your relationship added an element of excitement and danger. It was like living a double life, one where the outside world saw you as a mysterious figure, while only you and Sukuna knew the truth of your bond.

Now, as you faced the officers day after day, you clung to the memories of your life with Sukuna. The happiness, the passion, and the unwavering loyalty you had for each other were your anchors. You knew that no matter what they said or did, you would not betray him.

The authorities believed they could break you, but they underestimated the strength of your connection with Sukuna. You had made your choice a long time ago, and you would stand by it, no matter the cost.

[ifuckinghateschool]

gone to fast bro