#“if spring had a human form then perhaps it would look like her” [POINTS FINGER AT THE ML] YOURE DOWN BAD YOURE DOWN SO BAD !!!!!

[chisungie]

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[laurel-finch]

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch21: Sunrise

Summary: The constant fighting begins to take a toll... Referenced Episodes: S1 E22 "Devil's Trap" CW: None. Word Count: 5518 Recommended Song: The End of The Innocence -- Don Henley Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

I hid down the long, dark hallway, taking deep struggling breaths. She was dead. She was dead because of us. I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the roots and curling my fist in frustration. There had to have been another way, one that didn't involve her death.

I snuck a glance over my shoulder at Meg’s sagged, bloody, broken form and gagged, quickly retracting my gaze and holding back the rising bile. I had never been good at handling death. It was one thing if there was no other choice, but a frivolous, avoidable death... that was something else entirely.

It felt like a tremendous weight had been dropped onto my shoulders, pushing me down and against the wall until I was seated with my head hanging limply between my knees.

I couldn't even begin to understand what she had gone through. Possession was a new concept to me, nothing more than a myth that I would never experience, for obvious reasons. What was it like to not have control over your own body? What was it like to have to sit back and watch a demon's nefarious activities? I was thankful that I would never know, and for once I was ecstatic that I didn't have a soul.

The brothers and Bobby spoke in hushed voices in the kitchen. My ears roared as my heart pounded, blocking their whispers. If I focused, I was sure I could hear them, but I didn't feel the need. I didn't want this. How many more humans were going to die on this crusade? I thought the whole point was to save people...

I turned to look over my shoulder, eyes raking down Meg's broken corpse. Already, she smelled stale and lifeless. Her lips were blue and her skin was steadily paling as her temperature dropped. I swallowed dryly and pulled my wide eyes from her body.

The brothers stormed into the living room, their eyes avoiding the body with mixed looks of guilt, and rushed for their stuff. My pulse pounded as a swell of anger filled my chest – Dean didn't care that she was just a girl, and Sam hadn't even tried to stop him. How could they have just let that happen? Sam tucked the Key of Solomon under his arm and searched the many stacks of books for anything else he may be able to use.

"We need to go," Dean called to me, slinging his coat over his arm. I stood on shaky legs, brushed the dust off my jeans, and bit back an angry retort. Everything was happening so fast.

Dean marched from the room, a determined spring in his step. He looked so sure of himself now like he had a goal and now had a way to achieve that. His confidence was often contagious, but this time I didn't feel it. How could he have confidence after what we just witnessed?

Bobby called my name from the kitchen. I shuffled through the doorway, keeping as much distance between me and Meg's body as possible. Bobby had a stern scowl on his aged features, wrinkles folding his forehead in worry. Under his arm was a book, which he quickly handed to me.

My fingers slipped over the worn leather cover of the book as I grasped it and took it from him. My eyes scanned the title in surprise. The Creation of Monsters, the same book I had been looking at before Meg's arrival. I looked at Bobby with shock, wide-eyed and subtly terrified.

"Do you-" I started to ask, but was quickly cut off by his raised palm, silencing me.

"Of course, I know. You think I can't spot a non-human, after how long I've been hunting?" he said with a teasing grin rising on his cheeks. "Meg's comments weren't exactly slick either, you know."

"And you're not worried? Do you know what I am?" I questioned, tucking the book under my arm. I doubted any normal hunter would be this calm upon finding out what I was. Perhaps he had already talked to the brothers about me?

Bobby shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I have some ideas, but I'm not going to worry about it now. You can fill me in later," he said with a cocky grin. "Right now, you and the boys need to leave."

I opened my mouth to speak and then quickly shut it with a nod. We didn't have time for all my questions – the paramedics would be here soon, and I didn't particularly want to stick around and wait for them. With one last nervous glance, I whispered a quiet thank you to Bobby and immediately dashed out the door.

The brothers waited at the car, the Impala already purring loudly, its engine thrumming with power. I slid into my seat easily and tossed the book at my side hurriedly.

"What took you so long?" Dean began, glaring into the rearview mirror as he backed out of Bobby's yard. I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back a scathing reply.

"He knows," I answered harsher than intended, earning a confused scowl from both brothers. "He knows I'm a monster."

Dean hit the gas in surprise, the engine roaring loudly and the car springing forward towards the road. "How'd he find out? Did you tell him?"

"No, I thought maybe one of you did," I offered. Both brothers shook their heads. "Then he must have figured it out on his own. I wasn't exactly doing much to hide it, other than not shifting."

"And he didn't... threaten you, or anything?" Sam questioned, twisting in his seat to face me.

I shook my head. "No, he just told me he knew." My fingers dragged down the spine of the book, deep in thought. "He doesn't know the details, but he knows I'm not human."

"So long as he doesn't cause problems, it doesn't matter what he knows," Dean said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "I trust Bobby- he's not like Dad when it comes to monsters." I flinched, leaning back in my seat. I really didn't need another hunter like John in my life.

For the sake of the brothers, I hoped he was alive, and that he would stay alive until we could get to him. We had a long drive ahead of us, and while I had no doubt Dean would be speeding the whole way, there was only so much distance we could cover in the short window of opportunity we had. I was worried - worried we wouldn't make it in time, worried about the demons, worried about the brothers and the danger they were putting themselves in.

I frowned and pulled my jacket tighter as if it could shield me from my own negative thoughts. My eyes tracked to the back of Dean's head and the image of his rage-filled snarl and pure wrath towards Meg flashed in my mind. It was a terrifying look on him. I hated seeing that look on myself, and I hated it even more on him. Unlike me, Dean was human and capable of free thought. He wasn't driven by hunger and instinct.

And yet he still chose the route that would have someone killed.

I shivered and pulled the book towards me. Truthfully, I didn't have an excuse anymore. I had people to look out for, people who didn't see me as a monster. Bile rose once more in my throat as I thought about the day's events. I felt sick at the thought of Meg's death, and yet, I had done so much worse.

Why did I feel sick at the prospect of someone else's kill, and not my own?

I ran a finger over the faded embossed lettering of the book title, tracing each letter. For a reason I didn't understand, I was scared to open the book. Perhaps it would make me feel like more of a monster just after having overcome my fear. What if I learned something about myself that would plunge me back into that darkness I had struggled to escape from?

None of this was normal.

I reached a tentative hand up to the base of my neck and rested my fingers there, relishing in the small jolt of electricity I felt. The feeling hadn't faded over the last several days- rather, I had just become used to it.

I hooked a finger under the cover of the book and lifted it, revealing faded paper underneath. Maybe the book could tell me something about my odd connection to Caeden.

It was an impressively large book, categorized based on region, and then sub-categorized by culture. My finger skimmed the pages, flipping the section on North American and then to native legends. Skinwalkers were Navajo in origin – I wondered how different the truth was from their legends.

The words were smudged in some places and nearly impossible to read, but there was enough writing left that I could piece it together. My eyes flickered over the crinkled, worn pages, searching for any information I didn't already know.

Skinwalkers are Navajo in origin and believed to be vengeful witches who can control, possess, or turn into animals... This I already knew, but of course, we weren't witches. Perhaps we were once, but we had adapted to be much more wolfish in nature, pack mentality and all.

Much like a pack of wolves, a group of skinwalkers will have one alpha, to which all others respond... The book said nothing of how an alpha was chosen, or how a new alpha could rise to power. There was more to this section, although the next rather lengthy paragraph was smudged and in some places impossible to understand. I stifled a chuckle at the rather basic information the author knew about us.

Various skinwalkers have various conceptual organizations: Their pack organization is dependent on the animal they shapeshift into- My eyes widened at this as I struggled to read the rest of the blurry writing. What did it mean dependent on the animal? Was it possible for a skinwalker to turn into something other than a dog?

I skimmed over the pages, searching for any other information that could possibly answer my growing list of questions. I had never heard of a skinwalker turning into anything other than some form of canine. My father would have told me if it was possible, right? There was no way.

I searched the book for a date or an author, searching for any indication as to when the book was written. Perhaps it was written several hundred years ago when skinwalkers were still abundant. Maybe they had mistaken a skinwalker for some other now-extinct monster.

The notations ended abruptly, leaving a handful of empty pages that the author was surely intending to fill in the future. I flipped through the blank pages until my eyes landed on the next chapter title.

Black dog.

Black dogs were not native to North America – they were a myth from the British Isles, a hound that was synonymous with a hellhound, and brought death with it. I was surprised to see that the author had even chosen to add them to their list of monsters. They were ghosts, nothing more.

The Impala suddenly lurched, skidding across the gravel road and pulling towards the side of the road with sudden speed. "What the hell, Dean!?" I questioned as I was thrown forward in my seat, the book sliding from my hands and to the floor, the pages crinkling even more than they already had been.

"Gas station," he grumbled out, speeding into a parking spot. "We need to stock up on supplies." I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. As if we didn't have enough weapons and salt to defeat an army. Hell, we had an incantation and weird runes now added to the arsenal.

The brothers exited the car without question and Dean made his way to the store with a spring in his step, leaving Sam to refill the Impala with gas. I glared at his back and slid out of my seat. Was he ever going to address what had happened at Bobby's house? I doubted it.

I didn't understand how Dean and I could always share odd moments together before everything went to shit. Like everything was normal and we were just people – and then suddenly something would go wrong, or someone would do something stupid.

Was I even really mad at him? Partially, yes. I didn't think John was worth the loss of several lives, and who knew how many people would be killed on Dean's quest for revenge. Of course, I would never tell him that.

I glanced over my shoulder at Sam, whose back was to me. I scowled at his broad back and leaned against the Impala, drumming my fingers on my arm in thought. Why hadn't he stopped Dean from taking it too far?

Why hadn't I stopped him?

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair, ruffling it and glaring at my boots with disdain. There had to have been some other way, right? Some way where Meg could have lived and we would still have the information we needed. I grimaced and kicked at a pebble beneath my shoe. It couldn't be undone, no matter how much I wished it could be.

It wasn't long before Dean exited the small gas station with several more bags of salt in their hands and deposited them in the back seat beside my collapsed book. He moved to stand beside Sam, on the opposite side of the car from me and peered over his brother's shoulder at the open book in Sam's hands.

Wordlessly, Sam made his way to the rear of the car, a piece of chalk in hand, and began drawing on the corner of the trunk. My eyes widened in shock, tracing each stroke he made with horror – he was drawing on the Impala.

"Dude, what are you drawing on my car!?" Dean shouted and ran to the symbol Sam had drawn, tracing his fingers over the chalk that didn't seem to want to leave the chrome paint.

"Relax," Sam said softly, drawing an identical symbol on the other end. "It's called a Devil's trap. Demons can't get through it or inside it."

"So?" Dean questioned, clearly growing agitated at Sam's vague answer.

"It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox," the younger Winchester responded as if that made everything so much clearer.

"So!?" Dean shouted, throwing his hands in the air in increased frustration. Sam frowned at his brother's impatience and placed the chalk down, satisfied with his symbols.

"So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad," Sam replied bluntly. I flinched, knowing full well an argument was brewing.

"What are you talking about?" Dean questioned with furrowed brows and tight lips. "We're taking the Colt with us."

"We can't Dean," Sam quipped. "We've only got three bullets left. We can't waste them on a demon, we need to use them on the demon." I frowned and cast my eyes to the ground in thought. If we didn't take the Colt, how the hell were we supposed to make it out alive? But if we did take it, we risked running out of bullets.

"We need to save Dad, and we can't do that without the gun," the elder Winchester spat, his tone low and frankly frightening. "And that means taking the gun-"

I snapped my eyes up to his and snarled, his voice fading into silence. "So you're going to jeopardize countless lives by wasting bullets?"

"We won't waste the bullets," he snapped back. "Saving dad isn't a waste-"

"John is more important than hundreds, maybe thousands of lives? Countless children left motherless, like you?" I snapped pushing away from the car and glowering at him. "Your father is worth innocent lives?"

"Yes!" he shouted back, slamming his palms onto the trunk. "Because with Dad, we can make a plan to kill this bastard, bullets or not-"

"And how many more innocent people have to die before that happens!?" I shouted, flailing my arms in anger. Sam held a hand up and pressed it lightly on my shoulder, which I rapidly shrugged off. "Dean, we've already killed one girl today! How many more are you planning on murdering?"

He fell silent with a dangerous grimace on his lips, drawn back to reveal his gritted teeth. His fingers dug into the chrome paint, his joints slowly turning red from the force he was exerting on the vehicle.

"Do you know how pissed dad would be if he found out we used the bullets?" Sam offered, attempting to reason with his brother. I scowled at Dean, his eyes never leaving my own- hell, I didn't even know if he was really listening to what Sam had to say. "Dean, he'd be furious."

"Since when did you care about what dad wants?" Dean snapped, finally flickering his eyes to Sam. His younger brother's jaw tensed, teeth clenched tightly.

"We both want the demon dead. You used to want that too," Sam reasoned, his tone pleading. "You're the one who came and got me at school, man! You dragged me back into this, I'm just trying to finish it!"

Dean scoffed and folded his arms tightly. "You and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I'm gonna be the one to bury you," he spat, glowering darkly at his brother with so much condensed rage that I thought he might just skin Sam. "You're selfish, you know that? You don't care about anything but revenge."

I bristled and tightened my grip on the edge of the car. "You're a fucking hypocrite," I hissed out. Dean's eyes snapped to mine, the fury dissipating ever so slightly. "Like you didn't just have a girl killed because she hurt John."

He growled and narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Would you forget about the girl-"

"No!" I shouted, slamming my hands down on the car. "Dean, our job is to save people, not condemn them!"

"And we're supposed to condemn ourselves instead!?" Dean shouted back, viridian eyes blazing with rage. "Look, without Dad, we're not going to be able to even get close to this demon. We need him!"

"And we'll get him back!" Sam countered. "Without the Colt."

The brothers glared at each other, holding their heated stare for several long moments. Finally, Dean growled out in frustration and ran his hands furiously through his hair. He withdrew the Colt from the waistband of his jeans, held it up for us to see, and then tossed it into the trunk.

"If we die, I'm going to kill you both," he spat and slammed the trunk shut. "Let's go."

—

I traipsed behind the boys, eyes glued to my shoes and hands buried deep in my pockets, a scowl on my features. I hadn't said a word since we had started walking, avoiding any and all conversation and instead choosing to dwell on my own thoughts.

I was so tired of people dying, people in my life, people that the boys cared about. No one deserved to die, not by my hands and certainly not by the demons. I was so tired of it, tired of every day being a fight for survival, every hunt potentially being the last.

I wanted out.

I doubted I'd ever be able to leave hunting behind, not now that I had a taste for it. The fact that I could make a difference despite being a monster myself was intoxicating. It was a thrill I'd never be able to let go of, no matter how much I wanted to.

How many more people had to die until I was satisfied, until I could leave this all behind? How many more people would die when I left? It was a paradox – either way, I would never be able to save everyone. I was beginning to understand every hunter’s pessimism.

I inhaled deeply, relishing in the feeling of my lungs expanding to their full capacity, that feeling of tightness that momentarily alleviated my anxiety. I wanted nothing more than to make this hunt my last, to be done with this life as soon as the demon was done. All I wanted was to go home and find its walls blissfully quiet. Silent and alone, without a single worry about how to feed my pack, or keeping the Winchesters safe. Alone, like I had been months ago before the Winchesters broke into my home and dragged me into their schemes.

"Hey, hey," Dean whispered, stopping in his tracks and holding up a hand to halt our small procession. "I think I know what Meg meant by sunrise."

I followed his gaze to a small sign in front of a brick building, humans milling around out front. Sunrise Apartments. I pursed my lips in thought, eyes flickering between the humans.

"Son of a bitch," Dean whispered out in obvious surprise. He almost sounded impressed. "That's pretty smart. I mean, if these demons can possess people they can possess almost anybody inside."

"Yeah, and make anybody attack us," Sam offered, eyes narrowed in thought. He peaked out further from around a bush, eyes trailing up the length of the massive building. "They probably know exactly what we look like, too. And they could look like anybody."

"We have to get the humans out, somehow," I spoke, voice icy cold. "Otherwise, they're going to get killed." Dean's eyes flickered to mine and I avoided his gaze, instead gazing up at the building. I swallowed dryly, counting the number of stories it boasted. Great, I thought. I hated heights with a passion.

"So we pull the fire alarm," Dean offered with a shrug like it was the simplest thing in the world. "That gives us, what, seven minutes to find Dad and get out? Easy." He spun to face me, a determined look in his eyes. "You think you can track the sulfur?"

"Do I look like a bloodhound?" He raised an eyebrow, an indication that he just wanted me to answer. "Yeah, I can do it," I grumbled and held back an indignant pout.

"Good," he replied and turned his attention back to Sam. "You handle the alarm, we'll handle getting in," he told his brother, gesturing between us. Sam nodded and disappeared around the corner, headed for the building.

We waited behind the bush, watching the building and waiting for the crowd to rush out. I tapped my foot impatiently, the scent of the briny river filling my senses. Finally, my ears were filled with a soft ringing and I tapped Dean on the shoulder to alert him. Moments later, Sam jogged out and made his way towards us, the crowd filing out behind him.

It wasn't long before I could hear the sounds of sirens in the distance and urged the brothers forward and into the crowd, mingling with the apartment residents. The firetrucks came whizzing around the corner, sliding to a screeching halt, and out-raced a mass of firemen, carrying hoses with them.

Dean pushed through the crowd and began talking to a firefighter, distracting the unassuming man while Sam picked the lock on the back of a truck. Inside the truck were rows of gear, which Sam and I quickly pulled off of racks.

Dean slipped into the back of the truck and I tossed some stray equipment at him, which he readily slipped on. "Damn, this stuff is heavy," he muttered, slipping the coat on and struggling to button it. Sam chuckled as he slid his helmet on. "Aren't you going to grab a suit?" the elder Winchester questioned, slipping the helmet and visor over his head until the polycarbonate nearly obscured his green eyes.

I shook my head and placed my hands confidently on my hips, hoping it masked my nerves. "I figured I'd go with a fire dog for this," I said with a grin.

Dean suppressed a laugh, pulling an oxygen tank full of holy water onto his back. "Sure, Sparky. You want us to paint you like a Dalmatian while we're at it?"

I shook my head with a grin and pushed the door to the truck open, allowing the boys to step out. Once they were safely on the ground I shifted, my paws landing on the rough ground and shaking out my fur. I would never get over that feeling of my bones snapping and muscles tearing. It was far less painful than when I first shifted, and while still severely unpleasant, and remained one of my favorite feelings.

Wordlessly, the three of us made our way towards the building and I stuck close to Sam, scrunching myself up so I looked at least a little smaller than I really was. I couldn't shake the nervous glances cast my way as I made my way up the steps and through the door into the apartment building. It must have been quite the sight, a massive black wolf accompanied by two firefighters.

I raced down the hallway with the brothers jogging at my sides, struggling under the weight of their heavy costumes. The brothers opened door after door for me, allowing me access to each floor as I ran up and down the halls, tracking the scent of sulfur.

Finally, I caught a whiff of it on the third floor and quickened my pace to a dead sprint, navigating the maze of halls and plain-looking doors until I skidded to a stop. The trail ended abruptly, disappearing through the doorway. I bent my head until my nose was almost pressed to the ground, searching for any scent beneath the door. I gagged on the stench of rotten eggs and took a few stumbling steps back, growling at the door.

Dean pounded a clenched fist against the wooden door, it caving ever so slightly under the weight of his fist. "This is the fire department!" he shouted, his voice muffled by the visor. "You need to evacuate!"

The sound of a lock being undone caught my attention and my ears flattened to my skull. Together, the brothers tossed the door open to reveal two demons, waves of sulfur pouring off of them. They aimed their hoses at them in a synchronized manner and sprayed the pair of hellspawn with holy water, their skin boiling and burning.

I snarled and lunged forward, knocking the petite woman over, water cascading over me with no chance of reaching my skin through the thick tufts of black fur. The woman hissed, her eyes completely blackened, and swatted out, her palm connecting with my furry cheek. I growled and gripped her wrist in my hand, snapping the bones and dragging her towards a small linen closet where the brothers had the other demon pinned.

Sam dragged the possessed woman to her feet and shoved her into the closet with her companion while Dean salted the edge of the door. All movement from within quickly ceased and the apartment fell silent.

I shifted back, landing on shaky feet, and gripped my stinging cheek that I was sure was beginning to redden. The Winchesters began pulling off their equipment, revealing their weapons hidden underneath.

Gear discarded, we began searching, eyes flickering over the small apartment. My hand rested on a small handgun on my waist, thankful that I at least had some sort of weapon in case things went to shit.

The sound of a creaking door and a raging heartbeat caught my attention and I spun to see Dean standing in the doorway of the bedroom, a stricken look on his handsome features. "Dad?" he spoke softly and dashed into the room, Sam and I not far behind.

John was tied to the ends of the bed, spread eagle and unmoving. My heart fluttered with nerves. Were we too late? Dean ran to the edge of the bed, shaking his father and placing an ear near his mouth. "He's still breathing!" he exclaimed, evidently relieved.

I jumped into action, moving towards the bed, but Sam held out an arm, stopping me in my tracks. He held up a flask of holy water and uncapped it. "Dean, wait. He could be possessed for all we know."

Dean's eyes flickered up, full of shock and confusion. "Are you nuts?" he questioned, reaching for his father's bindings.

"We need to be sure," Sam grumbled and splashed the holy water gently across John's face. I breathed a sigh of relief as the water slid down his face, rather than burning his skin.

Suddenly, John began to move, his head rocking back and forth as he blinked his eyes open groggily. "Sam?" he asked, squinting up at his youngest son. "Why are you splashing water on me?"

That was enough for me. I raced to undo his bindings, plucking at the thick rope and pulling at the tight knots. They slipped from his ankles and his wrists and he struggled to sit up with Dean bracing his back. "You alright, Dad?" he inquired.

John shook his head and slumped his shoulders slightly. "They've been drugging me," he said simply. I furrowed my brows and glared at the ropes draped over the edge of the bed – why keep him drugged if he was already pinned down? I supposed it made him easier to manage. "Where's the Colt?" he asked, rubbing a calloused palm against his temple.

"It's safe," Sam replied, pulling one of John's arms over his shoulders and off the bed.

My hackles rose and I turned slowly to face the doorway. My skin prickled and I peered out of the room and into the hallway. Something was wrong. "Guys, I think we need to move-"

The door splintered and was thrown open by a man in a fireman's uniform, an ax gripped tightly in his hands, eyes black as obsidian. "Shit!" I heard Dean shout as I reached for the gun on my waist and whipped to face them.

Sam carelessly tossed an open bag of salt to me and I barely caught it, spilling small grains onto the short carpet. "Go!" I shouted, motioning to the window, and fire escape before slamming the bedroom door shut, lining the edge of the door with salt.

I screamed and fell backward as the ax came through the door, splintering the wood. Scrambling for purchase, I hauled myself to my feet and raced for the window, stepping out onto the fire escape and scrambling down the ladder.

I ran to catch up with the brothers as Dean hobbled along with his father and Sam trailing behind with the duffel bags. Suddenly, a dark blur streaked across the road, colliding with Sam and sending him sprawling across the concrete.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, dragging his father a bit further, leaning him against a truck, and running towards Sam. I lunged forward at a dead sprint – I wasn't going to make it before Dean, not even if I shifted. The demon beat down on Sam's face, one hand gripping the front of his shirt and the other pummeling the youngest Winchester mercilessly.

Dean sprinted forward and gripped the demon on the back of his coat. The demon didn't even spare him a glance as he swung his arm back, colliding with Dean's chest and sending him flying into the hood of a car.

With an enraged snarl, I crashed into the demon, sending him sprawling onto the ground, fists flying wildly and meeting ribs, stomach, and face. Through the flurry of blows, I could hardly tell what I was hitting, nor could I feel the demon's heavy hits on my own body. I gripped its face, nails digging into the demon's skin, and slammed its head down onto the concrete.

"Move!" Dean shouted, stumbling to his feet. I cast my eyes to him briefly and the demon took the opportunity to shove me away, sending me tumbling to the ground several feet away. I staggered to my feet, gripping the side of a shiny Ford Focus and hauling myself to my feet.

I shook as a cacophonous bang rang through the wide alleyway and with it a dramatic hissing and sizzling sound. With wide eyes and a slackened jaw, my gaze fell upon the staggering demon, a bullet hole in the center of its forehead. It collapsed, the human skeleton illuminating through the thick layers of skin.

Behind the demon stood Dean, holding the Colt at the ready, his gaze fiery with contempt. Silently, he ran to Sam's side and pulled his taller brother to his feet, urging some semblance of groggy consciousness into him.

I dashed towards the pair, hoisting the duffel bags from the ground and onto my shoulders. My eyes never left the crumpled body that lay limp on the asphalt, blood pooling beneath the fallen man.

[shadowqueenjude]

More Azriel-Beron for @hieragalbatorixdottir

With the strange powers Azriel possessed, he was able to travel where even High Lords could not. Hence, he agreed to do this one last task. One last atrocity in exchange for his freedom.

The woman, Nora Barranach, wasn’t difficult to spot. Azriel did not know what the Day Court heir looked like, but Nora stood alone amongst her Spring Court peers with her darker complexion and her hair braided into a crown embedded with red roses. She was draped in green and pink silks that were probably worth more than his house. She held herself in a way that left no one in doubt that she was the High Lord’s daughter. Head up so high it almost seemed like she was looking up at something. One elegant hand on her hip, which she had jutted out to the side. The slightest of smirks that never left her face no matter what the people around her said or did. The center of attention, and for good reason.

The girl with two fathers and two High Lord bloodlines running through her veins. Likely trained in combat, probably by Tamlin himself. He might be able to defeat her in battle, but it was difficult to say. It was best to catch her by surprise.

But how would he ever do that when she appeared to be surrounded by people all the time?

He had to get her isolated somehow. Or perhaps just wait. She had to leave her friends at some point.

God did he regret that hours later. Was this some kind of party? Why was there so much movement? Azriel hated parties, and with the Spring Court dress code, he’d stand out and not in a good way like Nora. More like he’d stick out like a sore thumb. His legs were cramping like he was some pathetic human.

He’d lost track of the lady; she was damn near impossible to find even with her distinctive features with the crowd far thicker than it was some time ago.

“Did you think I wouldn’t catch you spying, beautiful?”

Azriel was so shocked that he jumped two feet in the air and his shadows automatically moved to cover his face. “Cute friends you got there, huh?” A feminine voice spoke near him, and Azriel turned towards the sound. He glared at the traitorous shadow that reached out to the woman, staring at the offending woman who had somehow gained the attention of one of his shadows, who were quite picky.

He was struck dumb.

Nora Barranach was even more devastating up close. She somehow cut an elegant figure despite her well-toned arms and legs. Her bronze skin had a faint shimmer to it like the rising sun. Some of her glossy midnight hair had fallen out of her updo and hung in pretty wavy frames around her face. Her eyes were the color of honey, her lashes the thickest and longest Azriel had ever seen. Her thick brows raised as she looked him over. Her heart-shaped lips formed a smirk that looked like she held many dirty secrets. Her clothes appeared to be embroidered with elephants sewn with thread made of actual gold. Everything about her screamed, I am that woman. Everyone wants to be me.

Azriel’s jaw might have dropped a little bit. Just a little! She swaggered up to him, his rebellious shadow lovingly wrapped around her wrist. She batted her eyes at him, lifting one long slender finger to caress his cheek. Azriel shuddered when he felt the sharpness of her nails.

Nora chuckled. “Ah, you noticed my claws.” She moved her hand from his face, wiggling her fingers at him. Indeed, Azriel saw the long curled nails that looked like they could shred flesh. “Courtesy of my father. Well, one of them. The Spring one.” She rested her palm on his cheek.

“Wow, you’re gorgeous,” Azriel said without thinking. He’d completely forgotten about the task at hand. He had come here to do something, right? What was it?

Nora winked. “I know.” Azriel opened his mouth to speak again, but Nora rested one finger against his lips, shushing him. “When one is as handsome as you, you need not speak. Let your body do the talking, hmm?”

Azriel was so horny and so desperate for sexual interaction that was actually consensual that he did not protest when Nora began kissing him; he only deepened the kiss, working with his tongue and getting a moan out of her. She tasted of cherries and whistleberries, a telltale sign that she was drunk.

She pulled back, giggling slightly. “Hey, you’re not my lover,” she said before she hiccuped. She scrunched her face up like she was making a difficult decision. Then she said, “Oh, well we can pretend you’re Camille for one night. You’re certainly pretty enough, yes?”

Azriel only pulled her back towards him, letting her caress his chest before he realized what he’d forgotten.

Oh, right. He was supposed to be kidnapping this girl.

He pulled away from the kiss this time, gasping for air. “Nora, I’m really sorry about this.”

Nora blinked. “Sorry for what?”

Azriel’s answer was to melt them both into shadow.

Azriel winced. Shadow travel had never hurt him before, but he found his body struggled to maintain its shadowy form. He was eventually able to discover why he was having this difficulty: Nora kept flashing lights like some ball one could find at a club. Damn her and the Day Court blood within her. His body felt like it was being crushed into a thousand pieces until finally, by some miracle, Azriel managed to land them in the Autumn Court throne room. He wiped the sweat off of his brow, but it continued to drip from the effort he had just exerted.

“Unhand me at once!” the lady-demon-witch demanded; at this point Azriel couldn’t tell which one she was. Shockingly strong and stubborn even while donning a dress, she fought him every step of the way to the throne; it took all of his focus, shadows, and Illyrian training to keep her from slipping free. Flowers had begun to bloom over her dress, and Azriel knew the thorns piercing his arms and legs would scar. At last, she bellowed like a banshee, a CRACK and a flash of light breaking Azriel’s hold on her briefly before he lunged at her again. The woman had the audacity to spit before the Autumn throne before she straightened her spine and glared up at Beron Vanserra with enough rage and grace to make the mightiest of men cower. Indeed, Azriel could’ve sworn that Beron flinched ever so slightly at her piercing amber stare.

“My father will have your head for this,” Nora Barranach hissed, and in that moment, Azriel believed her. He had never seen Beron unnerved until now. When Azriel and Beron’s eyes met, Azriel let the High Lord see all of his smug satisfaction at his fear.

Despite his clear trepidation, Beron managed to answer coolly, “Which one?” The question was merely to be impertinent; it seemed fairly obvious to Azriel. Although Nora resembled Helion in almost every way, she lived with Tamlin and was likely raised by him. She had to mean him.

“Tamlin will go to war to get me back,” Nora snapped, imperious even within Azriel’s grasp. “Enjoy your last few days as High Lord.”

Beron snorted, but Azriel could sense his anxiousness through the mating bond. “He wouldn’t be so foolish. The Autumn army is far stronger than the Spring one; we were built for war.”

“He wouldn’t need to conquer Autumn. Just kill you,” she sneered. It had to be the inebriation making Nora this audacious, didn’t it? Azriel didn’t know what to do if this was her natural personality.

“He will be doing no such thing,” Beron said calmly, “for you’ll be married to my eldest: Eris.”

“Like Hel will I marry one of your demon spawn,” Nora growled. Again she writhed in Azriel’s arms. “Let. Me. GO!”

Azriel sent his thoughts down the mating bond: pure panic. He wouldn’t be able to keep a hold on Nora Barranach for long. Beron must have understood, for he gestured the guards at his side to fetch something, and moments later, they returned with two males: the pretty Vanserra, who Azriel knew as Eris, the eldest, and another man who had to be his brother. This one was a few inches shorter, his chin-length wavy hair not quite so bright as the others, but still possessing a distinct reddish shade in his brown hair.

This man made eye contact with Azriel before he stared at the faerie held against his chest. Azriel watched as his eyes widened upon seeing her, his pupils dilating. “GET OFF OF HER!” he snarled, rushing them. Azriel was too slow to react, and Beron’s son rammed into him, shoving him to the ground hard before he lifted Nora into his arms bridal style. Azriel stared at the two of them panting, Nora wrapping her arms around his neck.

Then he felt it: something stronger than all of the forces in this room.

“By the Mother,” Eris whispered. Confused, Azriel turned to Beron, whose demeanor once again exuded confidence. That could never mean anything good. Azriel braced himself for the bad news.

“How utterly delightful,” Beron drawled. “Lady Barranach and my son Henri are mates. Change of plans, then. A mating ceremony of course shall be held for the two mates, and my eldest Eris shall be wed to my very own warrior, Azriel Shadowsinger.”

What? All the warmth drained from Azriel’s body. He was to be married…to his mate’s son?

You promised, Azriel accused, sending his thoughts down the bond. You swore that I’d be free.

Beron tilted his head at his son in answer, but Azriel heard the words loud and clear.

Free from me, he crooned. But not from my sons. Should’ve worded the bargain better, shadowsinger.

And Azriel had known that Beron would try to find a loophole. He thought he’d prepared himself for all possibilities. But somehow, this had never even crossed his mind. And now he was trapped once more, this time accompanied by marriage to the man who’d so heartlessly killed his brother and held a sword to his mother’s throat. His mate’s son, who Beron would keep close. He had thought this through. Azriel would never escape Beron. He’d never breathe Night Court air ever again.

[acourtofthought]

Knew that without the barrier of the wall, some Fae territories were pushing the limits on what they could get away with in terms of border claims and how they treated humans.

At the start of SF, we have Nesta mention that without the wall (which we know divided Spring and the Human Lands) there is concern over human and Fae relations.

The Spring Court made Cassian itch

“Beron doesn’t have the military strength to control the Autumn Court and a territory on the continent,” Cassian countered. Eris’s fingers closed around the petals. “Who says he wants land on the continent?” He surveyed the orchard—as if to make a point.

“Beron knows another war that pits Fae against Fae would be catastrophic. Many of us would be wiped out entirely. Especially …” Rhys tilted his head back to take in the apple blossoms. “Especially those of us who are weakened. And when the dust settles, there would be at least one court left vacant, its lands bare for the taking.”

(Rhys is referring to Spring being the Court available for taking)

Eris nodded knowingly. “I can delay my father from allying with Briallyn and starting this war for a little while. But not forever. A few months, perhaps.

If war was coming, they needed Tamlin and his forces in fighting shape. Needed Tamlin ready.

With a new war possible and Briallyn up to her bullshit with Koschei, we need a strong ally. We need the Spring Court’s forces.”

And why not the Spring Court’s? Tamlin wouldn’t notice anyone missing at this point.”

“They say a beast prowls these lands now. A beast with keen green eyes and golden fur. Some people think the beast has forgotten his other shape, so long has he spent in his monstrous form. And though he roams these lands, he does not see or care for the neglect he passes, the lawlessness, the vulnerability. Even his manor has fallen into disrepair, half-eaten by thorns, though rumors fly that he himself destroyed it.” “Enough with the double-talk,” Cassian said. “Tamlin’s staying in his beast form and is finally getting the punishment he deserves. So what?” Eris and Rhys held each other’s gaze. Eris said, “You’ve been trying to bring Tamlin back for a while. But he isn’t getting better, is he?”

“But Tamlin is already hanging by a thread. You and Lucien have made it clear that he’s barely improved this past year.

Springs borders are currently open and Tamlin isn't doing anything to stop what's been going on. There is a very real concern that if things continue, Beron could take over Spring. But based on everything above, Tamlin is not the person they can look to for an ally with Spring, nor is he in any position to be it's leader.

“No. But we need to summon Lucien,” Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit. “We need to tell him the news, and permanently station him at the Spring Court to contain any damage and to be our eyes and ears.”

I went in his stead, and I did my duty to the court. I went of my own free will. And we completed the Rite.”

But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her.

The magic sometimes took a while to decide, and often jumped around the birth order completely. Sometimes it found a cousin instead. Sometimes it abandoned the bloodline entirely

Honestly, can it be denied that Lucien has stepped up for Spring in a way that Tamlin has not?

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Before I could object, he said, “You ruined any chance I have of going back to Spring. Not to Tamlin, but to the court beyond his house. Everyone either still believes the lies you spun or they believe me complicit in your deceit.

“My sister Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles.”

Who better to clear Lucien's name?

I know Lucien is Heir to Day but I honestly don't see anything happening to Helion. So Lucien and Elain need some purpose until he takes over which could be centuries. Maybe she'll be the High Lady of Spring and he'll stand by her side as acting High Lord (or even High King which there are hints for) as he has the knowledge to actually run the Court (whereas she would initially need guidance as Feyre did). By that time he's ready to take over Day, they'll have children that are a product of Spring and Day and one would take over Spring if the magic intended.

You know what else I never really considered until my last Anon but love?

Friends, I realized. They had somehow become his friends.

“He’s keeping everything running. I think he’d have been crowned king by now if it wasn’t for Vassa.”

“Vassa and Jurian are two sides of the same coin. Mercifully, their vision for the future of the human territories is mostly aligned

Jurian to Vassa: “Last I heard, your kingdom was no longer yours. Are you still a queen?”

BUT:

Both trying to lead the humans who occupied the sliver of land at the southernmost end of Prythian. Left ungoverned for so long. Too long. No king or queen remained in these lands. No memory of their name, their lineage.

SJM really just told us that Queen Vassa and Jurian are going to eventually rule over the land near Spring Court.

What better way to help continued Human / Fae relations than to have Elain and Lucien ruling Spring together (even temporarily), a Court that borders the land that their two good friends rule over?

[tarmac-rat]

WIP (Last) Wednesday

Tagged by @ghostoffuturespast

Hey y'all! I'm taking a hot little mental break from intense internet usage, partially work motivated and partially because my head just isn't feelin' all that zesty at the moment. I'm probably going to just take it easy for a little while so I promise I'm not ignoring anyone but I just really need a break from being online for a bit and spring-clean my head.

That also extends to a few tag games and I WILL be getting to those when I have a brain that doesn't feel like concrete slurry lol.

Not tagging anyone this round, hope y'all'll forgive me for that because you know how much I love reading shit, but please give it a whirl if you want!

From Chapter 18 of Rain in the Desert. Trying something a little different literarily in the one scene where I think it could possibly fit:

“For fuck’s sake, Alt, you had one job— one goddamn job— and you fucked it up!” the fury in Johnny’s voice could’ve burned this whole place down to ashes. He’s facing the AI fully now, chromed and ‘ganic hands both clenched in shaking fists, as though he’s debating when to stop throwing barbs and start throwing punches. ““Promised the kid a new life and what, all the sudden she’s just a goner? You fucking lied!?” “I could not know the situation until I ran a thorough and precise diagnosis.” “Well, run it again!” “The data is conclusive—” “Run. It. Again.” The world has closed in. Suddenly, V is aware of everything around her. The errant pixels floating on the air. The streams of data writhing beneath her fingers. The empty synthetic pulse of this coded Netscape pounding in her ears as it presses down on her.  The fact that she can’t feel her heartbeat. How had she not noticed that she can’t feel her heartbeat? “All testing conducted before and after the engram creation procedure has drawn the same results. Were V’s engram to be reuploaded back into her form, the body would remain stable for several weeks. But soon, it would begin to degenerate. Muscle tissue will atrophy. Neurons will attack neurons. Cellular growth will stall, then break down entirely, poisoning the host’s internal systems until they fail, one by one.”  “Get to the point, goddamnit! In human terms!” “Under these conditions, the body would survive for about six months. Perhaps somewhat more. Then it will die, and she along with it.” Everything is spinning. V can’t breathe, can’t focus, can hardly make sense of her own thoughts anymore. She wants to speak but all her words are hooks in the back of her throat, sinking deeper into flesh the more she tries to force them out. In the midst of the roiling chaos inside of her, V eyes have dropped to the tips of her steel-toed boots, red stark against the blue below them. And if she dares to look long and hard enough, she can see something flickering there. Faint lines of code, perfect rows of data hidden beneath the surface, pulled along her form like blood pulled through a vein. “Bullshit! Everything you just said has been bullshit! We get you into Mikoshi, you save her life— that was the fuckin’ deal, Alt! Fix this!” “There is nothing I can do. The Relic’s nanites have irreversibly altered the host organism in order to accommodate the construct stored within. From this point forward, the body will see V as an intruder.” “But it’s her body!” “No. It is yours.”  Six months.  That’s all she gets from this. Six more painful, agonizing, soul-shredding months of life in a mutinous body, and then she’s gone.  Just like that. Everything they’d done. Everyone they’d killed. Every bloodied and battered and broken step that brought them here. Every. Last. One. For nothing. Unless she lets him slide into her skin. It’s tailored for him now. It won’t reject him. He would survive.  Live on. A life for a life. She swore she’d take a bullet for him.  He swore he’d take it first. One body, two people, and the fool’s pact they made in a tiny motel room at the end of the world. It all comes cycling back.  Like it always does.  Like it always will. “—you understand?” It’s a few seconds before V realizes that Alt’s question had been directed towards her. “I…” she stammers, then trails off, her voice sputtering off into nothingness.  She can’t stop staring at her boots. “Do you understand?” V shakes her head. “G-g-gimme a minute,” she finally forces out, “I ne..I-I need to think.” “You must make a—” “I said, give me one fucking minute!” V snarls. A long lull follows that. Then, she hears Alt’s detached voice echoing out; “Very well.”

[vilithshaven]

THE PRINCESS (3)

This is the third and last part of @nicebonescomrade request. Buckle up, guys, girls and non-binarys and anyone else that is reading this story. This is gonna be a ride, straight down to Angsttown.

- Lilith

Warnings: angst, yandere behavior/themes, killing of an entire nation, encagement, self-starvation, Stockholm Syndrome

The pride of humankind was burning. It's ashes were carried across the oceans, bedecking the other nations and telling them what would happen were they to anger Celestia.

(Name) watched in horror as red cubes streamed into her homeland, lava springing forth from the broken earth. The horrified screams of her people rang in her ears, making her deaf to the words of her dearest knight.

"(Name), please", Dainsleif begged, his strong hands holding onto her and stopping her from running off to find survivors and help them. For that was what she wanted to do, they both knew it. "Go. Survive. Carry Khaenri'ah's legacy with you so that noone ever forgets."

A broken sob escaped her, hands flailing to cover her tear and soot-stained cheeks. "How can I live when my people are dying in front of me, Dainsleif? How can I live and carry around the guilt of not being able to do anything?"

His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, shielding her from the unpleasant view. They didn't have time. The longer they stayed behind, the higher was the chance that the Archons sent by Celestia found and destroyed them, too.

"Princess...please-"

"Get your dirty hands off her!", a deep voice growled. A brown spear forced the two Khaenri'ahns to part, arms slipping away from each other.

Dainsleif's sword appeared in his hand and he gritted his teeth. A pillar shot up from the ground, its pulse waves blasting him away from her. (Name) reached out to him, but a hand tinted in brown and gold grabbed hers and pulled her into a muscular chest.

Heavy pants sounded in her ear. She struggled to get away from the Geo Archon, hitting at his chest with her free hand, only for him to grab it and hold it still. His heartbeat was strong beneath her touch, stronger than a humans.

"Rex Lapis, please. You don't have to do this. Let us go, I beg of you, on behalf of our friendship."

The man shook his head as he buried his face in the soft tunic covering her shoulders. His hot breath made her shiver.

"Yes, friends...that's all we ever were to you, right, Princess (Name)?" He chuckled, as if his words were humorous.

(Name) furrowed her eyebrows, confused by this reaction. During her visits to Liyue and her forced meetings with its Archon, he always showed himself as a man interested in getting to understand her point of view. Asking her questions about her life, the commerce of Khaenri'ah...anything she allowed herself to answer.

It had formed a sort of friendship between them and she had even started looking forward to seeing him again, despite the wary feeling accompanying her each time.

"Isn't that what we are?"

The Geo Archon stood up to his full height so that he towered over her. His amber eyes glowed bright, slitted pupils blown wide. "Perhaps. But I always wanted more. And so did the other Archons. It's why we...decided to go disobey Celestia this one time.

He ran a hand through her hair, wrapping a lock around his clawed finger. "They will never find out what we did...and you will be with us, until the end of times. Our lovely princess."

(Name) didn't remember much after that. Her vision had faded and darkened and she floated in the arms of unconsciousness for a while. By the time she woke up, her body had been cleaned off the destruction of her home and dressed in the most luxurious silks she'd ever worn.

And Rex Lapis stayed true to his words.

The Archons locked her up in a temple-like building they had crafted just for her, a house so elegant and regal...and nothing more than a cage to keep her in. She was a pretty, exotic bird they visited whenever they could.

The first to come to her and explain it all to her was Venti.

His betrayal cut deep into her heart. The first friend she'd made in all of the nations turned out to be none other than the Anemo Archon Barbatos.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you", he said, the same joyful grin on his face as ever. Just that this time he wore his Archon outfit, two pure white wings fluttering nervously on his back. "I give my people freedom, let them govern themselves. That doesn't mean I don't watch them. I'm always with them, ready to help in times of need."

(Name) glared at him, gathering the blankets closer to her body and curling herself up in them. "That means nothing. You betrayed Khaenri'ah, my home!"

He averted his eyes, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish gesture. "Celestia's orders have to be followed. Not even us Archons can go against them."

"And yet I am here. Alive while my nation is dead."

Barbatos sighed and sat down on the lush bed. His hand reached out to touch her head, but she pulled away, her glare deepening.

"This...you are different, (Name)", he whispered. "We love you. We couldn't stand the thought of losing you."

"Then I hope you're ready to bare my hate until the day I die, Barbatos." She spat out his name, disgust and anger creasing her face. "I will never forgive you. Any of you. You should have let me die with my people."

Barbatos only shook his head and stood up.

"I'm sorry. However we won't allow this. You will come to accept us, for you will spend all your eternity with us."

(Name) didn't know how they'd done it. Although it was hard to tell how much time passed outside, seeing as there were neither windows nor doors for her to look out of, she knew she should have showed signs of aging.

Grey hairs, creases on her skin, discoloration, yellowed teeth...anything that proved that she was a human.

But her hair stayed lush, her skin smooth, and her muscles strong.

The realization that the end she had so desperately hoped for may not ever come shut her up. She refused to talk to anyone, not even the maids.

Would her voice be hoarse, were she to talk again? Or would it have been as if she hadn't spent half an eternity mute?

The Archons were worried. However even they knew better than to push the former princess. They had taken her from her home after destroying it, and locked her up in a gilded cage. No matter how much their hearts soared in their chests, and their faces lightened up at the thought of coming back to a loved one, they knew that this was a big change for a human.

Their godly patience never wore thin.

Yet her defiance did.

The Geo Archon now going by the human name Zhongli didn't expect much from his visit to their precious Khaenri'ahn. He had made a simple soup for her with the help of Cloud Retainer, and bought a book he planned on reading to her.

To say he was surprised at her throwing her arms around him the moment he appeared in the center room of the temple was an understatement.

His wide, amber eyes stared down at the shaking shoulders of his beloved princess, who buried her face into the leather of his coat.

"(Name), my love?", he muttered, his free hand coming up to scratch at her scalp. She shivered and pressed closer to his warmth. "Is something wrong?"

Had they overdone it? Had one of the other Archons broken their agreement to be careful?

(Name) didn't answer and that worried him more. He let go of the food and book he'd been holding, uncaring that it spilled onto the ground. He wrapped one arm around her waist and hoisted her up, her legs automatically wrapping around his to steady herself.

Zhongli wanted to smile, his heart feeling as if it would burst out of his chest. He was so happy that she finally allowed him to touch her.

Yet her emotional state was more important than his own feelings.

He went into a lounging room and sat down with her on his lap. His hands rubbed soothing circles into her back.

"Tell me, beloved", he whispered into her ear, watching as goosebumps trailed down her neck. His eyes glowed for a second before he reigned in his urges to mark her. "Did the Tsaritsa upset you? Why are you crying?"

Red-rimmed eyes stared back at him, more tears flowing down her cheeks. He cupped her face, whipping them with his gloved hands. The princess pushed her face more into his hands, almost desperate.

Her answer was quiet. "No...she didn't."

Zhongli nodded, glad that it wasn't one of them that upset her. "Tell me what's wrong?"

She worried on her lower lip, the skin reddening under her bites.

"Go on, beloved. I won't judge you", he urged, fingers tracing her lips and making her stop hurting herself.

"I...I want to talk to you", (Name) admitted at last, now avoiding eye contact. "I don't...I hate not talking to anyone. I want to have real conversations with you. Dance with the Tsaritsa. Play instruments... Hear more stories from you. Sing with Barbatos. But...I feel so childish and undeserving. I've pushed you away for so long...you should have long since thrown me out."

All this time spent contemplating where she went wrong, she also remembered the times the Archons showed her kindness and hospitality. They never hurt her, never scolded her for her views. It wasn't easy forget, even in the face of the crime they'd committed under Celestia's orders.

Zhongli couldn't help himself. He laughed quietly, his shoulders rocking underneath her gentle touch. The princess on his lap tried to get away, but he pulled her close, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"You need not worry, beloved. We care for you, we still do, even after all this time. To hear that you truly want to spend time with us...I'm sure the others will be as happy as I am to hear that."

He brushed her hair aside, placing a soft kiss against her neck. She shuddered, a delicious gasp coming from her at the pleasurable sensation.

"We will do all that we've promised you, and more."

Zhongli pulled away, glowing amber eyes so full of love and care for the princess in his arms.

"Why don't we start right now, beloved? I got you a new book that just came out today. I'm sure you'll find yourself enjoying it." His voice dropped. "Or I can show you just how much I love you still.

A blush rushed to her cheeks. "The book sounds good", she stuttered out, body beginning to shake again.

The Geo Archon took note of the bit of hesitance and immediately restrained himself. A breakthrough it may be, but overwhelming her would just make her push them away again.

There'd be enough time to show her more once she fully came around.

Until then, reading books and telling stories to her would be more than enough to satisfy him.

As long as he had her in his arms, pliant and all too willing, he'd be happy.

Now that she accepted them for the most part, life in her gilded cage became less bleak and filled with happier days.

Barbatos taught her how to play a lyre and all the songs he knew.

The Tsaritsa hosted balls just for the two of them, where they'd dance across the floor until their feet hurt and they crashed onto the bed.

Baal showed her the Plane of Euthymia and how to meditate to create her own, should she ever feel the need to be alone.

The Hydro Archon brought her more instruments. Guitars, pianos, everything the City of Fontaine had to offer.

The Dendro Archon, valuing knowledge above all, told her the stories of Teyvat and the current trends. From the Outlander that came to their world and the Abyde Order.

Murata taught her how to fight, despite the reluctance of the other Archons. The relief and stability a regular workout gave her made her feel as if she was atop the world.

And last, but not least, Zhongli. The dragon that told her all the stories and history of Liyue. That allowed her to meet his adepti. That took her on a ride across his nation on the back of his dragon form.

The one that was the first to take her to bed.

And the one that, at the end, would be the Archon to open up her cage and follow her into the new world. Once Celestia had fallen to the Twin Travellers' hands and nothing was there to threaten (Name)'s life anymore.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt.4

Summary: In his attempt to get to know his wife, the Darkling realizes he might be getting too close.

Warnings: angst, swearing, sexual innuendoes, slightest bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three   

=================================

Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. Not only did she agonize over the slightest possibility of his words being true, but the lingering of his lips on hers even hours after they’ve left tormented her mind. Instead of sleeping, she sat outside in the darkness with nothing but stars to keep her company. She shuddered with the cold wind as it chilled her, even the kefta didn’t protect her as well as she thought it would.

Sighing, she smiled up at the night sky, watching the stars in their celestial dance. It’s undeniable, she’s envious of them – their freedom is undisputed, their beauty unmatched by anything earthly. No one can force a star to marriage, no one can dull its brightness.

“Are you alright?” Genya spoke up, startling Y/N into a loud gasp.

Turning around, Y/N giggles in slight panic, a hand resting on her chest. “You scared me!”

“I didn’t mean to”, she chuckles too, coming closer to Y/N who let out a relieved sigh, only to look up once again.

“I couldn’t sleep”, she explains, “So I came here to watch the stars.”

“Most people are afraid of the dark”, Genya raised an eyebrow as she fixed her gaze on Y/N instead. She studied her carefully, unsure if she should invest all her hopes and dreams in her – no matter how striking she is.

“Oh, I’m scared of the dark!” Y/N exclaims, pointing up at the sky, “But the night sky is littered with lanterns, meant to guide you home. My mom always told me to look up whenever I feel lost, because the stars will help me find answers to any worry.”

Pursing her lips, Genya frowned, “Does that mean you doubt your plan?”

“No”, Y/N replied with haste, “I am simply trying to understand some of the chess pieces I thought I had figured out.”

Looking back at the Palace, Y/N’s eyes found the window of her room in an instant. A dark figure passed by it, the candlelight revealing the figure is pacing.

“He’s not a bad man, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Holding her breath, Y/N’s eyes find amber ones, “That’s not what I’ve heard. His deeds have spoken plenty about the strength of his character.”

“He’s fighting a war, not just with the outsiders, not just your father, but those on our side as well.” Pausing, Genya steps before her, “Do you know what they call him?”

“The Darkling”, she states, “A starless saint, a demon, a shadow king.”

“So many of those names are meant to demonize him, to shun him from society simply for the power he was born with”, licking her lips, Genya reaches for Y/N’s hand. “His own people are dying simply for who they’re born as – humans, Shu, Druskelle, they’re all sharpening their swords. If he’s not feared, we’re all dead.”

Nibbling on her lower lip, Y/N closed her eyes. Exhaling, she faced Genya once more.

“Does that mean I should applaud him for the way he’s treated the First army so far? How can you defend him when he’s the one who brought you here…to the emperor?”

Retracting her hand, Genya flashed a smile – one too strained to be believable. “He tried to defend me and got himself punished for it. So I’m here and I’m telling you to give him a chance.” Walking past Y/N, Genya stops just a few paces behind her, “He might surprise you.”

All the things Genya said became faint echoes inside Y/N’s head. When she returned to the room, she was ready for a new quarrel with Kirigan. Despite her readiness, he was sound asleep as she slipped her kefta off. With trembling fingers, she lifted the comforter only to stifle a laugh upon a surprising sight. Not only had there been a pillow to separate them, but three to ensure she wouldn’t accidentally roll on his side during the night. Perhaps she did smother him the night before and for once, she didn’t feel ashamed, rather satisfied. If he’s so insistent on sharing a bed, why would she make it any easier on him?

Tossing the pillows aside, she slid onto his side. Pressing her lips in a thin line, she tried to wrap an arm around his middle, but she couldn’t do it with her heart clenching wildly inside her chest. She drew back, forming tight fists at her side as she glared up at the canopy in frustration. If she’s going to play well and win, she’ll have to swallow her pride and withstand some discomfort.

Staring daggers at the back of his head, Y/N held her breath as she half climbed atop of Kirigan. Waiting to see if he’ll wake, Y/N finally released a shuddered breath. Burying her nose in the crook of his neck, she finally felt herself warm up after being outside for so long.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled his scent – woodsy and clean as if he had just had a bath. She never realized it before, but he smelled the same way on their wedding day…and night. But also earlier when he was pressed against her, devouring her mouth. Just the thought of his arms around her, his tall frame against her and the feverish kiss they’ve shared had caused her heartbeat to quicken with no shame.

And while she drifted off, she failed to realize something else – the Darkling was very much awake.

Instead of moving away when he felt a weight atop of him, he struggled to even his breathing. She smelled like spring, like lilacs and oddly enough, he enjoyed it. Most times, he’d crinkle his nose in disgust for strong, flowery scents made him nauseous, but she didn’t have the heavy, unbearably thick air of perfume cling to her – it felt like it’s her natural scent.

Smiling, the Darkling allowed himself to relax once her breathing calmed down and while her hands and feet felt like icicles, her cold nose brought most of the discomfort. Once she warmed up, by stealing his body heat, the Darkling began to drift away too. After all, he was winning.

A single ray of sunshine came through the window, its heat tickling Y/N’s nose. Sleepily, she brushed at it then tried to turn away, but something blocked her way. She lazily opened her eyes and saw the strange bed canopy overhead. When she remembered where she was and how she fell asleep last night, she felt her face grow hot as blood rushed to her cheeks. Even her body seemed to blush. She moved her head toward the other side of the bed and looked at where her husband’s supposed to be, yet he was gone – only the pillows she could have sworn she removed remained.

There was no way of knowing it, but each morning, the Darkling opened his eyes and looked at her first. No matter if she was drooling or her hair matted on her face, he quite enjoyed his view. She seemed gentle, almost like a saint sent to remind him light can exist along with darkness he’s been shrouded in.

Disgruntled, she sat up and huffed. She wanted to wake up at the same time as he did. One, she wanted to see his reaction and laugh, two, she really wanted to discuss the kiss from before. Then again, she just wanted to see the general at his most vulnerable state – waking up disheveled, just like any human would. His perfectly styled hair unnerved her and she couldn’t help but wonder if Genya used her power on it because she had never once seen a hair out of place, not even after their kiss.

For the rest of the day, Y/N tried to catch him alone. Unfortunately, she barely saw her husband at all. A fleeting glance of acknowledgement was all she received as they passed each other in the hall, both surrounded by others.

At night, she laid awake in hopes of speaking to him before bed. The faint candlelight on the bedside table kept the darkness away, relieving her fear. Would he laugh at her if she admitted to it? After all, isn’t he the one who can create darkness out of thin air? Perhaps he’d shroud her with it and prove he truly is cruel, but she had no way of being sure. He must never know of it and she truly hoped never to see his display of power.

Lost in her thoughts, she blinked and it was morning.

Wide eyed, she sat up and looked to his side. It was unmade, the pillow dented right where his head was and yet she can’t remember hearing him arrive in the night or leave in the morning. She never does.

“Fuck”, she mutters under her breath as she slams a fist in his pillow. Grunting, she buries her face into it, muffling her frustrated scream.

“Are you done?” Genya frowned at her, waiting by the door while Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs into a pillow.

“YOU’VE GOT TO STOP SNEAKING UP ON ME!”

Scoffing, Genya rolled her eyes. “You need to be more perceptive about your surroundings.”

A knock on the door had startled them both, enough for them to both let out a strangled scream. The door opened before either of them gave the permission and once they realized who it was that entered, they didn’t need a reason as to why.

“Ah, you’re awake.” The Darkling grinned at his wife who narrowed her eyes at him immediately.

“Your voice gives me a headache”, Y/N complains.

Squinting at her, the Darkling wondered if a woman could be so infuriating without wielding some mystic power to make her so.

“I believe you agreed to ride with me.”

“Oh”, Genya smirks, “She’ll ride you –“, covering her mouth, Genya giggles as she sees Y/N’s glare is on her, “I meant, with you.”

“I’ve prepared the horses”, he waited for her to respond, to give him reason to dislike her yet she didn’t.

“I will keep my word”, Y/N stood with her formidable gaze on his. She dared not look at his lips for they brought memories and self-loathing she’d rather avoid. After all, what kind of a woman quivers for her enemies touch?

“Wonderful”, he smirks, “I’ll wait for you to dress.”

Remaining in his spot, his hands at his sides, Kirigan raised his eyebrows as both women stared at him.

“Get out”, Y/N waves him off and he clicks his tongue.

“You may not let me touch you, but I can look.”

Angry, she narrowed her eyes at him, “That didn’t stop you from pinning me to a door.”

Genya’s eyes widen, pressing her lips to stop herself from commenting on their little exchange.

Shrugging, he stepped closer. His eyes raked over her body, the nightgown leaving little to imagination. “You didn’t seem to protest”, he leans in, “Especially since you proved you could easily escape me.”

Swallowing thickly, she exhaled through her nose. She couldn’t argue with that, now could she? If she wished, she could have forced him to unhand her. She could have fought him, but she didn’t. She may have been startled when he kissed her but she barely tried to push him away and still, when she had the option to back away, she was the one leaning in for a kiss when he lifted her onto the table. He played a game with her and she lost that day and now he gets to be smug about it.

“As your husband, I promise to protect you from all others. If anyone harms you, they’ll part with their life. For that alone, I deserve an occasional view.”

Winking, he takes a step back and sends a smile in Genya’s direction before turning on his heel and walking out.

“YOU KISSED HIM?!”

Groaning, Y/N throws her head back, “Sort of. It’s more like he kissed me and I didn’t fight him on it.”

“So, does this mean you like him?” Wiggling her eyebrows, Genya squealed in excitement. “Are you bringing him on this plan of yours?”

Holding out her hand, Y/N shook her head, “No, no and no. I don’t trust him one bit and he isn’t exactly a man who’d go along with it.” Exhaling loudly, Y/N decided, “He must be removed along with the emperor.”

When she walked outside, Y/N breath was caught in her throat. The sight of the general on a horse truly felt like a fabrication. Never had she seen a man as majestic as him, as proud and aggravatingly cocky all at once. With his black kefta and the cape, he rode on a black stallion as if he were a mere extension of his will.

She wasted no more time in mounting her white mare, chasing after the Darkling who seemed to only then notice he’s not alone.

Her horse was not above average size, but she was alert and slender-limbed. Her muscles and good nature allowed Y/N to keep up a fairly good pace, never too far behind the black stallion her husband rode. The stallion was clearly riled up, competitive by nature. Anyone else on its back would be a great danger for the rider, but he clearly trusted Kirigan.

The wind blew her hair back and the cold was rather unforgiving on her skin. Passing him narrowly once they entered the woods, she didn’t look back. Instead, she gripped the reigns tighter and continued to breathe as the cold air made her mouth dry and throat scratchy.

Feeling his gaze on her, she relents, looking back at him.

“Where’s your coat?!” He shouted after her and only then did she realize it must have fallen off. Genya made it pretty for a romantic ride, not quite as practical for a race. But that’s not what truly made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. The hint of worry laced in the words of an angry general is what betrayed him and she couldn’t help but wonder – what if it’s more than just lust for him?

“It was slowing me down”, she couldn’t suppress a victorious smile just as he couldn’t suppress an annoyed grunt. Yet they both slowed down, neither of them speaking as they turned around and headed straight to the palace.

“You’re an avid rider.” The general conceded as he dismounted. Before she could blink, he was beside her, his hands on her hips as he pulled her of the horse and effectively stole her breath away.

The rosy colored cheeks left him defenseless as he stared at her too, a little too intently for it to be innocent. Taking her hands in his, he brought them up to his mouth, blowing at them. She kept her gaze at him, undoubtedly in shock as her cold hands started to tingle with the warmth of his breath.

“I’ll have to leave for a few days”, he speaks before she has a chance. “You’ll have the bed all to yourself.”

“Don’t I have to come? If it concerns my peo –“, she began, but he silenced her.

“It’s got nothing to do with the army. I’m merely doing an errand for the emperor.”

Looking at her hands still in his, she pursed her lips. “Doesn’t he have enough servants to do his bidding?”

A breathless chuckle escapes him, “Why? Will you miss me?”

Rolling her eyes, she snorts, “Why? Do you fancy yourself as someone of importance?”

He looked at her like she's the Sun, angrily squinting at every second she spent in his presence. He never looked at her other than in frustration. At least she thought so. It’s how he looked at her a month ago when they first met on a field stained with Druskelle blood. He stood there, alone and victorious as she stepped over the bodies after arriving on this side of the fold with a Sandskiff.

All of their conversations were arguments – she’d narrow her eyes and he’s squint at her, throwing jabs at each other every chance they get, but this felt different. Something changed after the wedding and she wasn’t entirely sure what.

Achingly aware of their closeness, she couldn’t help but ask. "What is this between us?"

Pausing, he looked at her with wonder. If he could put it to words, it wouldn’t make any sense. His mind could hardly fathom what exactly she meant to him other than being a nuisance, but he didn’t exactly hate her as he believed at first when he admittedly hoped she’d find herself eaten by Volcra while crossing the Shadow fold. What he hated was not having a choice. He hated how arrogant she is and how little respect she has for her superiors. He especially hated her mortality, her species and all the atrocities they’ve committed against him and his kind.

He didn’t love her, that he was sure of. He couldn’t possibly care for her either. Lust, winning this game, feeding his ego by having Zlatan’s daughter at his feet is what he longed for. So no, he didn’t love her, but a part of him feared he might love her in time. For the first time in a very, very long time, the Darkling had a fear and it carried her name.

Perhaps that’s why he reacted the way he did when she asked him if there is something between them.

"Nothing." He grabbed the back of her neck, his lips pressing against hers hard.

He was right, she realized. There was nothing between them, nothing between their lips, not even air.

Pulling away, he smirks as she inhales sharply.

"Did you feel a connection?" He looks her in the eye, his lips set in a firm line.

"Yes", she whispers shakily.

His eyes harden as an ache in his chest reminds him of his fear. Someone like him must give up anything he could possibly love for the loss and disappointment are inevitable. She’s mortal, an enemy behind his borders he can never trust. So he will shut his heart out. Love is not an option for the Darkling, he reminds himself. The last time he allowed himself to love was also the day his heart turned to stone. So, he will not love her and she will not love him. He will destroy that possibility, cut any ties that bind them. Lust is the only thing he will let fester.

Leaning in, his lips brush hers softly as he whispers against them, "That's why you're a fool." Stepping back, he heard her gulp. “The connection you feel is lust, that’s all we have and it’s all we will ever have. Accept it.”

“Is that true or are you just afraid?!” Her voice wavers and she instinctively steps toward him, asserting dominance she felt was lost.

“General”, Ivan calls out, just in case Kirigan needed an excuse to leave.

“Afraid?” The Darkling chuckles dryly, averting his gaze to Ivan who waited for him at the entrance. “I’m not afraid of anything”, he remarks as his eyes lock on her lips again, “Certainly not of my wife.”

As he stepped back, the Darkling caught the strangest look in her eyes. It looked like clarity, total and complete sobriety from the ecstasy his presence gave her. She stood proud, despite the self-loathing in her previously warm eyes that slowly turned them back to the ice she held when she first laid her eyes on him.

=============================

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart​

Part 5  

[orange-plum]

So I was commissioned by @andrastesassets to write about the scene in “Satan and Me” where Satan gives his wings away for Natalie, but from his POV. This was kinda a big turning point as a wake-up call in the series for him, as you’re probably aware if you’ve read past that point and seen him be more open with his feelings and such. Anyway, it was a fun little thing to explore (yes, this is canon thoughts of his). I never expected to be commissioned to explore deeper into a canon of my stories that hasn’t been put into words before with the images alone of the updates, but I’m def open to that in the future!

Without further ado, here you go.

The looming presence behind him paled in comparison to the disorienting lurch his stomach gave as he kneeled on the unwelcoming cement floor. Keeping his gaze down, concentrating on the little tremors of his arms holding him upright, Satan struggled to properly see through the fog of stress clouding his mind. Clouding his judgement.

Fuck, this wasn’t the right thing to do, was it? Was he being too hasty? Should he spring up and sprint out the door before he followed through with something he couldn’t come back from? This was definitely one of his more impulsive and reckless decisions he’d ever committed to. Nothing could truly be worth this kind of –

Satan’s hand twitched, starting to rise as nerves got the best of him, when a blur of orange and maroon hovered on the edge of his peripheral. For a brief moment, he found himself vaguely wondering what the smudge of color was in the expanse of drab brown walls and muted trim. 

Reality came crashing against him like an unforgiving tide for what seemed like the tenth time this morning. Sweat gathered at the base of his neck and he swallowed.

Satan returned his palm flat against the cement, locking his joints and muscles into place so that he would not stand up. His stomach did another discombobulated lurch.

Right. This was for Natalie. Natalie, who had no right looking so gray, Father, she was like a corpse.

She is a corpse! His mind howled the confirmation at him, leaving his breaths shallow in his welling panic.

Yes, that was true. It had been true for hours now, yet, somehow, the complete depth of what that really entailed eluded him in his denial. How could she be dead when she had talked to him only moments ago? Human’s lives had always felt fleeting, but had any ever felt quite this temporary before? 

Less than a year they had been together . . . How had she burrowed this deeply under his skin? When? Satan tried to conjure a memory to pinpoint the exact moment Natalie had become a constant in his life as he bore his back to Death and Pestilence. In the end, it was fruitless. Between his ears remained endless static.

The tension in the air was suffocating. His arms trembled, but he kept his jaw clenched.

He would give them no further satisfaction when taking the last bit of value he still possessed of his former self. They would not see him fall apart at their feet. That could come later, when left in the privacy of this cold, dreary room, where he could lick his wounds and recover in peace.

He was still Lucifer, the Morning Star and omen of destruction to all who opposed him, wings or not.

But, fuck . . . Father, he would prefer to keep his wings.

Somehow, boneless and lightheaded from the trauma of the morning, Satan noticed, with a small sense of intrigue, that his back actually felt heavier now that it was empty. How was that possible? 

The long gashes where the trunks had been swiftly carved open spewed boiling trails of lava down his skin, soaking into the hem of his robe and pooling Great Lakes onto the floor. Energy had left in his limbs the moment the numbing kiss of Death’s blade breached his muscles.

On wobbling legs, Satan rose in his shock and joined Natalie at her side. He carefully reached toward her, gliding the tips of his fingers against her ashen cheek, almost afraid to touch, because she looked exactly the same. What the hell? She looked no different than when she had been splayed out like a weathered ragdoll amongst her bedsheets at sunrise, goddamnit. 

Before he could garner enough strength to turn on his company and spew venom and vitriol from his lips, Satan froze. Warmth wafted over his fingers under her nose as he lowered his hand. Closer inspection revealed the gentle rise and fall of her chest. The nauseating cramping in his stomach abated so suddenly, he almost keeled over right then and there.

“Give it a few minutes,” Death commented over his shoulder, as if reading his mind. There was no longer a smile in his voice, his face a neutral mask as Satan glanced at him with gritted teeth, the sight of his former pride being folded up and collected like loose laundry too much to bear. “It takes a little while for a soul to acclimate into their body after death. I assure you, her color and liveliness will rekindle when she wakes up.”

Through the haze, Satan vaguely realized he must’ve been making some type of suspicious face when Death suddenly snorted and shook his head, his eyes gleaming. “For all we’ve been acquainted, Lucifer, you should know I’m not one to break my word. Give my regards to little Natalie when she rejoins the land of the living, won’t you. As always, it’s been a pleasure. I look forward to seeing you and your brother again when the time comes for your big day.”

With the room empty, peppered only with the soft sounds of Natalie’s breaths and the distant echoes of Death’s laughter down the desolate hallway, the elephant in the room was no longer avoidable. Satan slumped against a wall, transfixed by the rise and fall of the chest beside him. Even more so as the rosiness began to fill Natalie’s cheeks the longer she breathed life into her form.

His previous adrenaline had left him a hollow puppet, now that there was no longer the turbulent cocktail of anxiety and doubt weighing on his shoulders. Satan allowed himself to drift to the floor, lying beside the only person he had ever met who had compelled him to do something so utterly foolish. Jesus, her daredevil stunts to ground him at his lowest points seemed to have rubbed off on him, and likely not for the better.

Satan’s wounds throbbed at the edges, a constant reminder of the magnitude of what he had just done.

Don’t think about it, his mind lethargically reminded. What’s done is done, so don’t start regretting it now.

“Prophecy child, huh . . . ” Satan muttered, his arm leveraged under his head like a makeshift pillow. The light cascading through the windows almost seemed to light up Natalie’s hair in its luminescence. Amongst the carnage splattered around them from his sacrifice, she was ethereal and without blemish.

He had found out about the Child of Prophecy by chance, becoming enraged at the notion of being kept in the dark so late in the game. Natalie’s existence had changed from an everyday annoyance to one of unbearable burden.

She had the power to sway him? To sway his empire and everything he worked for? A being like that, who would steal his autonomy or cast him spellbound, was too dangerous to fraternize with. There was just too much on the line to risk throwing away for some goofy, loud-mouthed human without an ounce of self-preservation.

And so Satan had done the only logical thing he could think of at the time: He ran away, leaving her with that pitiful, crumpled face as he rejected her in that inconsequential Oregon town. The less time he spent with her, the better off he’d be.

Only . . . That had not played out as he’d hoped. Watching Natalie disappear over the side of a bridge had been like a bolt of electricity coursing through his body. That she would see him as the monster that he was, a grotesque monstrosity that even Michael had recoiled from, and attempt to help him, regardless? Well . . . Perhaps there was more to Natalie McAllister than he had originally considered. He’d cradled her close and winced while he repaid her kindness by accidentally boiling her alive.

Oregon was a wake-up call.

Natalie had piqued his curiosity, her smiling reassurance that she didn’t befriend monsters jumpstarting the heart in his chest that he had presumed stopped functioning centuries ago. Not only that, but he had no way of knowing he would soon find out that running toward the very man attacking her and her cowardly little friend, despite the blatant terror in her eyes, was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Oh,” Satan muttered, something foreign flooding into his chest, emotion catching in his throat as he stared at Natalie’s slumbering form.

Silencing Hell for him at the cost of her soul . . . 

Calling him her guardian angel. Crying, not for fear of Hell, but for fear of being separated from his company . . . 

As much as he wanted to deny it, the fondness in Natalie’s eyes as she smiled at him was undoubtedly genuine. She really did seem to look at him like he hung the stars above her head.

“I love you, Lucifer. I’m glad I got to meet someone like you.”

Satan trembled, unable to properly sort through the sensations overflowing from his chest as Natalie’s eyelashes began to flutter. Champagne bubbles tickled his stomach, and though not required to breathe to live, he felt so remarkably breathless at once.

So that’s what this is, Satan distantly thought, watching pale eyelashes finally parting to reveal a cognizant gaze, blinking against the trickle of sunlight warming her cheeks. When meeting Natalie’s eyes, he couldn’t keep the smile of relief from his face.

Satan understood that he had never experienced this before, but he somehow knew what to latch onto in his jumbled mind with unquestionable conviction.

I love her.

[m00nchildthings]

Familliar (revamped with added content)

Authors note: So yall remember the first chapter of familliar? Scrap that hoe this the new one it’s dumb long though 11 pages on Microsoft Word TnT Also @alfmoimagines i remembered to tag you

Content Warnings: Dubious Consent, Virginity Taking, Teratophilia, demon fucking, virgin training? ear fucking(with a tongue i’m not that wild). breeding, creampies, cursing, full nelsons, ruts, and i feel like that is all? Enjoy

Familiars were tricky and malevolent creatures, demons that were so lowly in the castes of hell that they lived life better off in the land of mortals then they would in their own native realm. Not that any of them would be humble enough to admit it though. Most familiars stayed under the care of witches for protection, being incapable of possession made them extremely susceptible to attacks by clergymen. Most lands decreed that any demon living as a witch's charge were free of fear of clergy assault, as long as said witch could manage them. For witches, handling a familiar was a precocious balancing act at best and a near soul threatening experience at the worst, especially during their times of rut. This was when only keeping one familiar in service, which is why so many gave you confused looks when you stated that you kept not one but two under your gifted hand.

 Izuku was your first familiar, a small token gifted to you by your mother the eve before you set off to live yourself as every young witch does when they hit that special age. A small rabbit daemon, one of the easiest to handle, was her gift to you. His eyes were a clear emerald and his pelt a slick black that shone green whenever the moonlight encased him. He was a very helpful familiar as far as they went and you were very appreciative of the fact. After near hermiting yourself away in a decent size hut not too far from a village, you found Izuku to be a very beneficial part of your day to day life. Whenever you were off in the town square buying food and supplies for the week you could always count on Izuku to scamper off and find you roots and herbs for your potion. Or in his human form he would help you around the house cleaning and organizing your books for you. He even seemed interested in your craft, helping you with concocting potions and studying spells.

 Now handling Izuku was fairly easy, at least in comparison to the horror stories you heard, during his roots. All it took was a snug leather collar with a calming charm placed on it to keep him from humping anything within a five-foot radius (including you.) Throw in some romance novels of yours for him to read and staying out late at taverns to give him alone time with his hand and Izuku was fairly decent to stand. You just had to make sure to ignore his eyes on you at night as you slept.

 The second familiar you kept was very different to your snuffly little Zuzu. Katsuki as he went by was an absolute brat that wasn’t grateful for anything you had done for him whatsoever.  It had only been a few months since you had found him after leaving the local butcher to make your way home to Izuku. A group of kids were toying with the poor battered creature, a pure white canine with a clergy trap biting into his ankle blood matting his fur. After shooing away the little bastards you pried open the chat wincing as the teeth of the trap sliced your fingers. He stared up at you with one big red eye before groaning and going limp. You took the poor thing home and cleaned his wounds shoving Izuku away as he came to snuff around the new daemon. For the first few days Katsuki was fine to be around, as his wounds healed, he mostly rested, coming in and out of sleep as he gained back his strength. He was quiet and agreeable letting you bathe him to redress his wounds and even crooning as you held his head to feed him. This calm quiet Katsuki lasted for exactly for the first week he lived in your small home.

 The moment he regained his strength it became apparent what a brute Katsuki was as he uprooted your life from its regular calm feeling. Whenever you went out to gather supplies you returned home to find your Izuku cowering in the corner and Katsuki standing in the middle of your ruined living room, smoke billowing off of your singed furniture. He constantly berated Izuku, cursing and complaining about every little thing he could find. He constantly picked fights with Izuku it wasn’t an uncommon sight to come home to find Katsuki pinning Izuku to the ground as your poor bunny kicked at his tummy trying to worm from your grasp. It got to the point that you would have to keep him chained in the cellar and bring Izuku out with you as your familiar refused to be left alone with Katsuki. As ever docile as he was you found Izuku complaining about keeping him around.

 “Mistress,” he whined walking beside you in the town square “why must we keep him with us he’s rude and aggressive and has only made life harder for us since you took him in.” 

 “Zuzu,” you scolded “you know very well why we can’t just throw him out, the clergy would get to him, besides, he’s probably just defensive being in a new environment after such a traumatic experience, we have to be patient with him.”

 “But he’s so disruptive,” Izuku huffed crossing his arms as you stopped by a fruit vendor “he’s taking up so much of your time, you don’t have time to practice, time for me- “

 “Time for you?” you raised an eyebrow placing a few plums into your satchel, paying the vendor and walking away “perhaps your annoyance comes less from our new friends’ unruly nature and more from a place of, dare I say it, jealousy?”

 “I’m not jealous of him!” Izuku exclaimed red smattering underneath his freckles “I’m worried about you, mistress,”

 “And why is that Zuzu?”

 “Rutting season is coming, and if this is how he acts on the regular, imagine how he’ll be during his time,” he turned to you placing a hand on your arm “you might not be safe mistress,”

 You paused mulling over what your familiar had said eyebrows furrowing, he wasn’t wrong. You had grown comfortable with keeping a familiar with easily suppressed ruts, cat daemons were notoriously known for having aggressive ruts. You had overheard a friend of your mothers as she stopped by from afternoon tea, confiding in your mother that her own cat daemon had been so difficult she had no choice to put aside her pride and pull down her panties to keep peace in her house. It was seen as very taboo for a witch to lay with her familiar, shameful even, to be seduced in the bedroom by such a lowly daemon. You yourself had been worried about what would happen when rut time would come with your new household member to worry over.

 “Don’t worry my fluffy little companion,” you placed a hand on his cheeks smiling as his eyes closed and he nuzzled into your palm “I’ll be fine, you should worry about how you’ll be dealing with your time of the year,”

                                        ……………………………………….

It had been about nearly a week since you and Izuku had your little conversation, and you had begun to notice the signs of rut season in your daemons. Izuku was becoming much more grating constantly moving around your stuff in your room rubbing against everything and even snapping back at Katsuki when he would try to intimidate him. Katsuki became the exact opposite of his usual self, at least towards you. He would stalk you silently through your own home eyeing you like prey as you sat reading in your armchair. It had gotten to the point where you would step out of your bath to find Katsuki waiting outside your washroom nostrils flared as he stared down at you, pupils slit. You almost felt scared in your own home, almost. You had two daemons about to reach a sexual peak and you were only fairly sure you could keep one of them in check. This especially became apparent to you one day as you were working on charming Izuku’s heat collar.

 “That won’t work on a daemon like me you know,” Katsuki had grunted from across your kitchenette “I’m twice as fucking powerful at that little runt you keep running after you,”

 “Well what do you suggest I do to make this time easier for you Katsuki,” you say not looking up from your work “did you not have a witch before me to help you through these times?”

 “Yes,” he said pacing closer to you as you worked rubbing the salve into the leather.

 “Well what did she do Kats- “you paused at the hot wet feeling of breath on the back of your neck, his toned arms came to rest on either side of you. Your body seized as you felt his nose bury into your hair and take a deep inhale.

 “She was a good little witch and let me fuck her cunt till I was through,” your eyes widened as you turned your head to stare at him. His red eyes bore into yours as a lecherous grin spread across your face.

 “Come on,” he said leaning down to rub his nose against your cheek “little witches like you act like prudes till you got a big fat daemon cock in your face, let’s just skip the theatrics and get to the part where I’m balls deep in that little witch cunt of yours,” he groaned throatily pressing his hips into you. You shuddered feeling his massive print against your back wondering what it would feel like to have it pressed inside your-

 “Mistress” you heard Izuku’s voice cold and unnervingly steady from across the room, your eyes shot over to Izuku who eyes were glued onto you and Katsuki. You immediately regained your composure pushing Katsuki away from you. Izuku kept his eyes trained on Katsuki glaring at him as you made your way over to him collar in hand. He took it from you when you offered it to him, but his eyes didn’t leave his fellow daemon.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 It had been a few days since the incident in the kitchen, spring was coming in and the tension in your household was so palpable you could carve it with a knife. Izuku stuck to you like a barnacle to a ship and Katsuki was never too far behind. It had come to the point that you had begun to hex your door locked, not even allowing your little Zuzu to sleep at the end of your bed. It had been on one of those locked door nights when an interesting discussion occurred between Izuku and Katsuki.

“You know Deku, you’re pretty fucking pathetic, you know that right?” Katsuki said sprawled out over your couch eyes glowing crimson in the moonlight lit room.

 “Shut up Kacchan,” Izuku grumbled, awkwardly curled up in your armchair broad arms hugging his haunches and leather collar tight around his neck, ignoring him Katsuki continued.

 “I mean how long have you been in service to her, how many springs have passed with you jacking into your own fist like a fucking loser, what you think if you’re a good enough pet she’ll let you hump her leg or something?” Katsuki asked picking with his claws at a piece of cotton sticking out of the arm of the suede couch.

 “I don’t know how you and your previous witch worked but y/n and I do not have a relationship like that, she is my mistress and I am her grateful servant, nothing more nothing less,” Izuku huffed tucking into himself even further.

 “Get off your damn high horse, you’re how old now, and never once went through a rut without just your own hand?” Katsuki sucked his teeth and turned to his brethren, red eyes glowing inhuman in the moonlight “you and me together we could probably convince her to give us a hole each,”

 “Kacchan don’t be lewd,” Izuku said sitting up in the chair to glare over his shoulder at Katsuki, who barked out a laugh standing up and uncharacteristically, placed a clawed hand gently on Izuku’s face thumb brushing his cheek.

 “Come on little bunbun,” he rasped a wicked gleam in his eyes “don’t you wanna get your dick wet tonight?”

                       ………………………………………………

 It had been fairly quiet that night, a few growled whispers from your living room but overall quiet compared to usual. Though worries of Katsuki’s impending rut had plagued your brain, worrying if the collar you had made for him would stick, you had been resting peacefully for the majority of the night. Until a loud rapping noise pulled you from out of your slumber. Your eyes opened face twisting in worry as your sat up throwing off your bedsheets.

 “Who is it?”

 “Mistress, it’s me,” your body relaxed as you heard your bunny’s’ voice from outside your bedroom door.

 “What is it Zuzu?” you asked standing slowly, nightgown flowing down your legs.

 “I- I can’t sleep, I know my ruts started, but can I just spend one more night with you, please mistress?” your heart lurched for your boy, his ruts as easily managed as they were, were still hard for him.

 “Ok Zuzu,” you chuckled unlatching one of your locks “for you anything my- “

You felt a hand around your throat before you could finish your sentence, you had expected a pair of pure emerald green eyes to meet your, but you were instead met with scarlet. You were quiet as you were pushed back towards your bed by Katsuki refusing to break eye contact with him as you were forced to plop down on your bed. You stared at the both of them, the collars you had spent so long on were removed from their necks, of course, you had never had to worry about putting on a charm to keep Izuku and Katsuki from taking off their own collar, you hadn’t even thought of the two joining forces.

 “Izuku,” you said turning to find him just behind Katsuki nervously staring down at you, biting at his lower lip “what is the meaning of this?”

 “Mistress I-I can explain- “

 “Then explain yourself!” you snapped watching his looming figure begin to shake and quiver at your tone, you figured if you could get one to balk on their advance the other would be soon to follow. Besides, if the two of them would start to ravish you in their lust filled rut induced haze, you wouldn’t want them to stop, and that thought scared you.

 “Hey, don’t take that tone with us shitty witch,” Katsuki said grabbing your jaw and leaning down till you were eye to eye, invading your space “we’re just the two demons who are gonna take out that stick you got shoved so far up your ass, if you let us,”

 “And pray tell, why would I do that?” you ask folding your arms. Katsuki smirked, and stood up to his full height, before shoving Izuku to you. He landed on top of you wide eyed and red face, the moment your hands pressed against his chest you felt his entire demeanor change. His eyelids begin to droop and his breathing became uneven as his body began to sag pressing into you. His rut had come in fully.

 “M-mistress,” he mumbled eyes darting lazily between your lips and your eyes unsure of which to focus on. Choosing to ignore both he instead pressed his nose into your neck nuzzling you and inhaling your smell moaning dreamily. His wet tongue poked out laying small little kitten licks on you quickly turning to open mouth kisses sucking at your neck.

 “Look at him little witch,” grabbing hold of your hair turning your eyes to him as you tried in vain to push off Izuku “you’ve turned him into a needy little bitch hanging off you for the barest scrap of emotion, you must have known how badly he wanted to fuck that cunt of yours,”

 “It’s true mistress,” Izuku said droopily pulling off trying to cover your neck in his saliva “I want you all the time you’re so amazing, so smart, so powerful, I just want to make you feel good ma’am,” he chirruped loudly staring down at you like you put the stars in the sky. He shifted and you can feel his cock hard and throbbing against your leg. Your face heated as he began rutting against you, he moved to give the same treatment he gave your neck to your chin. You couldn’t lie, it felt good you thought as you bit your lip to stifle a moan.

 “T-this is wrong,” you stuttered as Izuku trailed down sucking on your nipples through your nightgown leaving dark wet spots on the pale silk.

“Is it really,” Katsuki snickered grabbing Izuku by the hair. He moaned in distaste as Katsuki pulled him off of you “don’t complain just yet rabbit, you get to do the most important part, hold her from behind,”

 “Izuku please,” you huff as he wraps his burly arms around yours pulling you close so Bakugou can get to your panties easier “you’re better than this bunny” Midoriya pouts staring down at you with those big green eyes.

“Please mistress, I’m always so good for you right, I never try to run away, and I always help you even when you don’t ask” he pauses for a  second to moan as his hips rut into your ass a few times and then move in close to your ear “the least you can do is let me make love to you mistress I promise I’ll make you feel good,”

“HAH,” Bakugou barks out a cruel laugh from his place in front of view finally managing to rip off your panties “a daemon can’t make love to a witch Deku, but we can fuck them senseless,” he grins lecherously as he pushes a finger inside your cunt already moist from their actions “because as high and mighty as witch bitch might be they all turn into slobbering whores the moment you get your dick in them they’ll beg for it you’ll see.’’

Midoriya groaned, now humping at your naked ass seemingly pleased with that visual image Bakugou had given him, thick cock dragging and leaking precum on your skin. He buried his face in your shoulder softly sucking a spot into your skin as his hands trailed down until his fingers found your clit.

“I read in one of your books that this feels good for girls,” he says swiping back in forth lightly tugging against the hood of your clit as if searching “there’s supposed to be a little “pearl” here, right, it’ll make you go feel good right mistress, I wanna make you feel good,” he croons as his fingers succeed in revealing your clit to the cool bedroom air. He lets out a little happy chirp bringing his other hand down to rub small hard circles on it and you choke eyes crossing at your sensitive nub being played with. Bakugou tsks, sucking his teeth as he watches you pay more attention to the damn bunny daemon then him.

“Hey shitty witch,” he grabs your hair and tugs forcing you to look at him through your pleasure induced haze “don’t get too wet over your little rabbit it’s gonna be my fucking dick in you so pay attention,” he leans forward swiping his rough tongue over your shoulder before biting down groaning as the skin broke and the coppery taste of blood began to fill his mouth, dick jumping at your pained squeals.

“Kacchan be nice it’s her first time,” Midoriya scolds moving one of his hands to pat at your head trying to soothe you “you have to be gentle on a girls first time,” Bakugou groans rolling his eyes before letting your shoulder go and lapping at the little pinpricks of red still there.

           “It’s not my fault she’s too prudish to have gotten human dick before we jumped her,” he grumbles and adds another finger to your slick cunt scissoring to loosen you up for them “don’t expect me to be gentle when I get in here either I’m gonna destroy this little cunt of yours shitty witch,” he growls and adds a third finger curling up into a spot that has you seeing stars and chuckles as he watches your hips start to try to ride his hand.

 You try to hold it back but soft pitiful moans leave your lips, eagerly swallowed up by Izuku as he goes to kiss you sloppily shoving his tongue down your throat. Between Katsuki’s rough thick fingers pistoning into you and Izuku playing with your clit while simultaneously sucking your tongue into his mouth it isn’t long before you feel a tug in your abdomen that quickly turns into a pee like sensation as you cum, squirting all over Katsuki’s hand. He groans speeding up to see your squirt spray as Izuku soothes you pulling away from you to gently massage at your breast and kiss along your neck. Katsuki frowned watching the way Izuku fawned over you, taking all your attention. He sucked his teeth before grabbing you and pulling you close.

 “C’mere, be a good little witch and spread those legs for me,” he growled staring into your eyes as you gulped at his words.

 “Katsuki no,” Izuku said grabbing you and pulling you away “it should be me who gets her first you’re too rough,”

 “I’d like to see you try fucking rabbit,” Katsuki grabbed your hips dragging you till your crotch pressed against his and you could feel his print through his trousers “Your virgin ass would probably only last two pumps before you come in her,” There was a palpable moment in which your room seemed to pulse with Katsuki’s challenge as the two daemons stared each other down over you. You knew that it was up to you to pacify the situation.

 “Wait, wait,” you say sitting up as both their eyes immediately dart to you, you place a hand on Katsuki’s chest “you should at least allow me to choose which of you is first,” You see Katsuki smirk and roll your eyes mentally at his arrogance.

 “Ok then little witch,” he grabs your chin in his hand before pulling you into a domineering kiss, much more practiced than Izuku, rolling his tongue with yours before biting and pulling your lip “you pick.”

 You pull back from Katsuki admittedly shaken by his lustful kiss as you kneel between the two daemons trying to figure who you would want to take you first. On one hand you were more comfortable with Izuku, you knew he would be kind and gentle with you as new to all this as you were. But despite Katsuki’s dominating nature he was more experienced, and you have no doubt that he would take the reins if you let him, as you were rather inexperienced in comparison. The air was tangible in the moment of you deciding.

 “I choose Izuku,” you say. Izuku visibly brightens and shuffles closer to you as Bakugou growls scooching over to the headboard. You helped Izuku take off your nightgown fully as his hands shook with eagerness when he tried.

When the offending garment was finally off Izuku stared down at you wide eyed and all smiles taking in your naked body. His hands reached out slowly trailing over your body, over every curve and dip leaving goosebumps in their wake, before resting on your ass. He cupped a cheek in each hand and pulled you up until your rested on his thighs legs wrapping around his waist. You blushed as you felt his cock press against your stomach, thick in ways that made you tremble in fear or anticipation you couldn’t tell.

 “Shh Shh mistress,” he maneuvered you again until you were on your back and he loomed over you as he leaned down “it’s my first time too we’ll be each other’s first.”

 “God are you gonna fuck her or fuck around Deku?” Katsuki growled from his spot next to you by the headboard dick in hand. Midoriya huffed angrily before turning back to you.

He kissed lovingly at the column of your throat stroking your thighs before spreading them practically cooing at the sight of your virgin cunt glistening with your arousal.

           He grabbed one of your legs wrapping it around his waist as he clumsily fumbled with his member until the tip pressed against your twitching hole. Your breath hitched and your face screwed up tight as the head of his cock caught on your clenching entrance, your Zuzus back hunched as he slid just a fraction into your tight heat shuddering breaths fanning your face as he fought the urge to slam into you. It was unpleasant and foreign feeling the stretch of his cock as he slowly pressed into you, a burning sensation that had you clawing at his back and clenching down on the intrusive member spearing into you.

             “P-please y/n, you’re too tight I- I can’t,” his hot breath filled your space as he paused his breach of your too snug pussy. A rough hand grabs at your jaw directing your attention to Katsuki as he glowers down at you.

             “You need to relax dumbass, if you keep clenching down he won’t be able to push it in all the way,”

 “It isn’t in all the way in yet,” you whimpered, squinted one eye open you looked down to see that only half of Izuku’s cock was inside of you, a good portion of it sitting outside of you.

 “Fucking virgins,” Katsuki growled snapping his fingers at Izuku “you gotta get her to relax, kiss her or something touch her other sensitive parts,”

Midoriya nodded sharply before smashing his lips to yours messily moving his lips against your and knocking your teeth together before Katsuki grabbed his neck dragging him away from the sloppy kiss.

           “Jesus do I have to show you how to do everything dumbass,” Katsuki grunted at an irritated Izuku, annoyed at being interrupted.

           “Katsuki stop butting in-“he’s cut off when Katsuki’s lips press against his own, you watch as the cat daemon showed Izuku what a proper kiss was. Their lips moved together Katsuki pulling out little moans from your Zuzu when he bit his lips demanding entrance to his wet mouth before sliding his rough tongue in. Izuku shuddered wide eyed, cock pulsing inside you as Katsuki’s tongue danced with his own until he pulled away a thin trail of saliva breaking of from the corners of their mouths.

           “That’s how you’re supposed to kiss dumbass,” his rough hands cupped Izuku’s jaw jerking his head to you “now kiss her that way,”

           Izuku again bent down to kiss you, but this time with more tact, your lips moved together more gently and his tongue kitten licked at your bottom lip as opened your mouth tongue immediately running over your mouth as if trying to taste you. A pair of rough fingers began to circle your clit, Izuku’s or Katsuki’s you weren’t sure, but the stimulation of your little nub had you groaning into the kiss legs relaxing around Izuku and wrapping around his waist as he slowly slid the rest of his girth into you. It was a burning deep within you now, not the tearing feeling from before, but a satisfying stretching that had you sucking on Izuku’s invasive tongue as the both of you moaned into each other’s mouths. Finally with a small circulation of his hips Izuku sat snugly inside of your of warm wet cunt he breathed heavily breaking away from the kiss to loom over you, eyes lidded with lust he stared down at you debauched expression not knowing how to handle the feeling of being filled to the brim with a throbbing hot daemon cock.

           “You, you feel amazing mistress,” he groaned clumsily circling his hips into you, your breath caught at the foreign feeling as he his hips rabbited into you, quickly little juts that barely made room between where his thighs pressed into your soft bottom. Behind him you heard Katsuki suck his teeth, clearly unimpressed with Izuku’s method of humping into you, you watched as he grabbed Izuku’s hips biting the rabbit daemon’s sensitive ears. He pulled his hips back ignoring Izuku’s moans as he was dragged out of your clenching cunt wanting nothing more than to thrust back in and snuggle fuck into your intoxicating pussy.

           “No tact whatsoever,” Katsuki growled pulling on the lobe he held in his teeth “no idea how to fuck a pussy, and I though little bunnies like you were supposed to be good at fucking, figures I’d have to show you how to do this to,”

           Katsuki slowly guided Izuku’s hips in and out of you dragging his cock nearly all the way out till the tip caught on your drooling entrance and smoothly sliding it back in angling it so that he knew that spot deep within your gummy walls was graciously caressed. Your back arched off the bed as you moaned hands reaching out for either but ultimately catching on Izuku, nails leaving crescent marks on his biceps and back. His head fell to your neck mouthing there as Katsuki slowly released his hips as he found the rhythm Katsuki had shown him, Katsuki’s hand rested instead rested on Izuku’s freckled behind putting him back on track whenever he lost the beat.

           “That’s it rabbit,” he said guiding him to pick up the pace “give that pussy a good fuck and you’ll have that witch on all fours for you,”

           Izuku got the picture as he pulled up leaving purpling marks on your skin and ignoring the way you whined missing the feel of his weight pressing into you. Instead he grabbed your legs pulling out shuddering as your hole clenched desperately trying to keep him inside. He grabbed your waist flipping you over onto your hands and knees before sliding into you with a fluidity that had your upper half sinking into your pillows. He groaned hands grabbing your sides in a tight grip using his handle on your hips to drag you back to him, as the new position had him so deep in you you found yourself trying to crawl away from him. A sharp clawed hand grabbed your hair jerking you still as Katsuki leaned in close.

           “Stop fucking running witch,” behind you you heard Izuku moan at the sight of Katsuki manhandling you as he jackhammered his cock deep into you kissing your gummy cervix with every thrust.

           “So, so guh mishtress,” his words slurred he threw his head back now fully lost in the throws of his rut “squeezing me uuhhn tight fuckin’ pussy ‘round my cock,” he groaned hips picking up pace. Katsuki moved his hand to play with your painfully sensitive clit the attention causing your legs to tense you came around the cock fucking deep into you, spraying your own cum over the bed with each thrust of Izuku’s cock.

           “Holy shit,” Katsuki breathed biting his own lip in anticipation as he watched you get fucked through your squirting orgasm “you better hurry up rabbit I want my turn,”

           “I’m almost, almost-,” Izuku grunted hunching over you as his hips lost their tune humping sporadically into your still spraying cunt “Cuuhhhmmmiinnng,” he pressed in deep one final time head pressed to your cervix opening pumping your womb full of his heady spunk till it spilled out from you. You both shuddered, you at the feeling of being pumped full for the first time and him at the feeling of having a cunt accept his load for the first time.

           “Damn,” Katsuki said, watching Izuku pull out of you his spunk following suit when his soft cock fully slipped out. Izuku bent down immediately licking his spunk back into your trembling cunt as you whined trying to wriggle away from his prodding tongue on your sensitive cunt. Izuku whimpered as Katsuki grabbed a handful of his curly emerald locks pulling him away from your poor tired cunt before scooping you up in his arms positioning you till you both rested against your pillows and headboard. Your pussy, throbbing and puffy from the pounding it just took jumped as Katsuki slapped his cock up against it, the angry red tip dripping pre on your abdomen. You whimpered squirming away from the pleasure that was already too much.

           “Don’t think about trying to run away from me witch,” he slowly pressed into you before his arms came under your limp thighs pulling them up to your chest and locking them in position as his hands slipped behind your head “not like you’ll be able to though,”

           His planted his feet firmly on your mattress gripping the blanket with his toes before thrusting up, you choked, eyes crossing as his cock seemed to press into every oversensitive spot of your walls. You felt his wet lips latch onto your lobe tongue slipping into your ear lathing slow strokes matching the maddening strokes that his cock dug into your pussy. Futilely your hands pressed into his thighs trying to cease his pumping hips, you heard him chuckle hot breath fanning your ear around the tongue that delved deep into it. You couldn’t make a noise, could barely breath as Katsuki seemed to dig out all thought of anything besides his throbbing cock claiming your greedy pussy that desperately latched on to the pleasure that drove your brain stupid.

Midoriya groaned watching your cunt cream around Katsuki’s cock leaving bubbly rings of tantalizing white that had him licking his lips. He leaned down licking a stripe up Katsuki’s cock till his tongue pressed the mixture of all three of your combined messes into your clit. He wrapped his lips around the nub and sucked. You screamed, the first sound your had truly been able to make since Katsuki had entered you, piercing and long like a banshee that had Katsuki leaving your ear alone to laugh at you, laugh at the dumb little witch fucked even more stupid on his cock. Damn, the old crone that had him before wasn’t even this good a fuck he thought as he began to piston his hips into you feeling his own end creeping on him between your cunt seemingly try to strangle his cock and Izuku’s tongue lapping at your joined sexes.

Without any warning you came moaning and thrashing as much as you could in the full nelson Katsuki had you in, squirting again against the tongue that seemed to be molded stuck to your clit. Katsuki cursed as his feet pressed deeper into the bed hips stuttering up into you as he came, your cunt pumped full for the second time that night with daemon spunk, Izuku finally pulled away from you face dripping in your squirt as he bent down to kiss while Katsuki’s thrust slowed to stop. He released you from your position breathing heavily while you fell forward into Izuku’s arms legs shaking and cock drunk.

“There there mistress,” Izuku cooed, you lazily stared up at his and his eyes seemed to glow an almost sinister green in the moonlight “It’s my turn again and I promise to be gentle,”

You gulped backing up only to be met with Katsuki’s already hardening cock glide under your still dripping pussy. Izuku chuckled gleefully as he shuffled forward his own dick nudging at your poor abused clit. Katsuki growled pinning your arms to your sides before licking a long stripe up your still wet ear.

           “I think you mean that it’s both of our turn rabbit,”

[n1kolaiz]

"You want to know what death is? I'll tell you. Death is the loss of life. Despite everything doctors like me attempt... a patient's life can still fall through our fingers. You think death lies in the apex of science? Anyone with such little regard for life will die by my hand."

Character Analysis: Yosano Akiko

Age: 25 || Ability: Thou Shalt Not Die

BSD CHAPTER CHAPTER 65-66 SPOILERS

table of contents:

1. Author counterpart.

2. Yosano's history.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

YOSANO BRAINROT!*(#&!*@#($

1. Author counterpart.

Having been given the “Sho Ho” at birth, Yosano Akiko’s counterpart—the real-life author—was known for her zealous take on both feminism and pacifism.

Side note: Once again, to avoid confusion, I will use the name Sho Ho in reference to the real-life author, and Yosano in reference to the BSD character.

Sho Ho's writings were pretty much out-of-the-ordinary in her time, and despite being suppressed by the social norms of gender hierarchy, she sought to reform society’s view on the cultural perspectives of women and their sexuality (She expressed her love for a woman in one of her poems, but many still argued on whether she identified herself as queer or not.)

"Thou Shalt Not Die," Yosano's ability, is actually named after one of Sho Ho's most famous, controversial poems. She wrote it for her brother, who was a soldier in the war between Russia and Japan (1904-1905). In her poem, she expressed her general distaste for war and how her brother was a part of it.

O my young brother, I cry for you Don't you understand you must not die! You who were born the last of all Command a special store of parents' love

Would parents place a blade in children's hands

Teaching them to murder other men Teaching them to kill and then to die? Have you so learned and grown to twenty-four?

- excerpt from Sho Ho's poem, "Kimi Shinitamou Koto Nakare"

Her words were blunt enough to inflict guilt on her brother's conscience, as she wasn't afraid to express her disapproval over how her brother took part in the typical violent bloodshed and manslaughter of war. Such opinions perturbed the authorities, and her work was eventually banned from the public for a period of time. Later on, it was used as an anti-war statement.

2. Yosano's history.

Now, as for the character in BSD, Yosano is seen to be generally strong-willed, and later on, we see that she is terrifyingly compassionately ambitious in the way she treats her patients. She treasured life itself, and hated the thought of losing a patient.

Yosano had developed her relations with Mori Ougai back in the Great War, when she was just 11 years old. Her ability was a great benefactor in saving lives. Realistically speaking, she was used for her ability to heal injured soldiers and diminish the effect of any casualty acquired.

Initially, she wasn't aware of this, until one of her close friends pointed it out by subtly accusing Mori of manipulating her to participate in the War under the close-to false pretence of 'saving lives.'

As much as her ability did save lives, it also forced soldiers to return to the frontlines and suffer injuries over and over again. The soldiers were never given the opportunity to return to their families because of her ability. This obliged them to carry on in the war without any excuse, inserting them into a vicious cycle they had no escape out of.

Metaphorically speaking, Yosano's hatred for Mori sort of mirrors Sho Ho's disdain for war and fighting, don't you think? The way Kafka materialised Yosano's past was quite interesting because he used chapters 65 and 66 to explain Yosano's dislike for Mori, reflecting how Sho Ho used her poem to explain why she condemned the idea of war and how her brother was part of it.

Before the effect of her ability was fully understood, however, every soldier praised and thanked her for what an angel she was. One of the soldiers she had befriended and gotten close to even kept a tally of the number of times she had saved him. He was the one who gifted her the butterfly hairpin she wore all the time.

The weight of the truth that her ability was a curse rather than a blessing fully dawned on her when her soldier friend ultimately committed suicide, because the fact of being indefinitely trapped in the throes of war agonised him until his spirit gave out. This drove Yosano to loathe her ability, or rather, how it was used.

In the time she participated in the War, Yosano was given the alias 'angel of death' due to the control she retained over the battlefield, but I thought that perhaps Kafka had a reason behind giving her this title, so I did my research.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

Side note: I wouldn't want to disrespect any culture or religion, so if my citations are inaccurate and/or disrespectful, do feel free to correct me/let me know! I did research out of pure curiosity, and I don't intend to twist the significance of any of the interpretations.

I had to grow up learning about the basics of religious stuff, so it's kind of nice to study something out of the box, and very much against my father's rigid belief system :D

ARCHANGEL ARIEL

(archangel: an angel of higher rank)

I came across the few characteristics of angels/goddesses and their roles, and the one which really caught my attention was the female archangel, Ariel, the angel of nature.

[ source ]

In Hebrew, the name Ariel means 'altar' or 'lioness of God,' and her role is to heal. In addition to that, she is also recognised as a helper to another one of the seven main archangels, Raphael, whose role is to provide physical and emotional healing, too.

She is the protecter of the environment and the animals therein, and is bestowed with the duty to oversee the order of heavenly bodies as well as earth's natural resources. She assures the sustenance of food, water, shelter, and supplies of human beings, much like how a nurse is to a patient I suppose.

In relation to Yosano, I think this part is pretty self-explanatory, or perhaps this is blown out of proportion HA, so take this as a suggestion rather than a fact, because I'd like to believe that Kafka had a reason for giving Yosano a title as such.

In the past, I've come across the angel of death only to perceive it as a female grim reaper of some sort, so it was pretty cool to find that the word 'angel' and 'death' made up a title of a someone like Ariel, one of the purest forms of humility and compassion.

GREEK GODDESS PANAKEIA

For my beloved (wannabe/or not) students of Greek mythology (much like myself, let's make a cult!), you've probably heard of Panakeia, the goddess of healing. Medicine finds most of its vital significance in Greek history, and in its mythology, Panakeia is actually known for her ability to heal any kind of sickness.

[ source ]

Her name means 'panacea,' which is actually defined as a remedy for all diseases. Terminal diseases and injuries lead to death, right? This would bring us back to Yosano's ability to nullify any injury's effects on a person, keeping them from death itself.

Now, we know that in order for Yosano's ability to work, her patient, or victim, has to be in a near-death condition in order for her treatment to take effect. This can't exactly fit into the description of resurrection, but it can be described as some sort of rebirth.

GREEK GODDESS PERSEPHONE

So another goddess which reminds me of Sho Ho/Yosano, is Persephone, the goddess of spring and rebirth. Before Hades, the god of the underworld, fell in love with Persephone to take her to live with him, Persephone lived a happy life.

Hades, with his nature of darkness and the like, was captivated by how pure Persephone was, and stole her away from her former life to live in an environment which differed sharply from her natural aura of purity.

[ source ]

Remember when Yosano's friend left a note behind before he killed himself? The note said nothing except for, "You are too righteous." Take that as you will, but figuratively speaking, you could say Mori takes the role of Hades in the story, while Yosano can be portrayed as Persephone.

Sho Ho can also be a parallel of Persephone, in that she had to adapt to the realities of war and disharmony, while Persephone had to adapt to the raw darkness of the underworld with Hades.

Sho Ho stood against society's norms and decided to reform it, making her one of the most well-known feministic pacifist in history, while Persephone managed to escape from the underworld to return to her former position, earning the title the 'Bringer of Life,' or the 'Destroyer of Death.'

Furthermore, the way Sho Ho's anti-war poem took its effect later on, reflects the way Persephone restored balance in the world after returning from the underworld.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

chapter 66; Yosano: "It's my fault that those close to me died... Is there some place where it's okay for me to live?"

chapter 8; Atsushi: "If I have any chance of saving them all, of returning them home safely, would that mean it's okay for me to keep on living?"

I couldn't help but think of Dazai and Atsushi back when I was reading through these panels. Ranpo (my beloved), along with Fukuzawa, accepted Yosano as she was, despite how her ability was a cause of despair and misfortune.

Ranpo looked past her mistakes and the entirety of how dark her past was to welcome her into the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai, on the other hand, knew who Atsushi was and what his ability had made him do before anyone else, and still decided to provide a safe place for Atsushi to find his sense of belonging, journeying with him as he learned to use his ability properly.

For more info about Dazai and Atsushi's dynamic, you can check out the analysis I did for Dazai :D

Atsushi desired to save people to prove his right to live, while Yosano made her wish to achieve the recovery of all her patients the reason for her existence.

Others would prefer to accuse both Yosano and Atsushi of having a saviour complex, but the reason why they pursued to save people with utmost dedication, stems from the nature of what their past was like. You know the saying 'from broken to beautiful?' Yeah, it's something like that.

The way their pasts were written out gave them a desire to change, which was, I daresay, initiated by the people who took them in: Ranpo and Dazai. Their abilities were demonised because of how they were used, but once they broke from their abilities' effect over their lives, they honed their skills to control them for the right cause instead.

In a less cynical point of view, I believe both Yosano and Atsushi stood for what was right, and wanted nothing but to achieve peace and harmony in whatever way they could, even if it meant risking their own lives to save others.

So yeah, that's it for my rants today. Thank you for reading, and if you have anything to add, go ahead! I'm open to discussions ;)

[sombreboy]

Descend | demon!knj

⇣18+ nsfw ⇣pairing: demon knj x female Y/N ⇣genre: pwp smut, supernatural ⇣word count: 2.6k ⇣warnings: smut, profanity, dubcon esque themes, degrading dirty talk, mouthfucking, knj fucks y/n against a bookshelf lmao, demon creampie, he’s got a forked tongue idk if that’s a warning but at this point I’m too afraid to ask. 

A/N: Request by anon who wanted demon knj smut. I hope you love it! Please praise me I spent all night on this xoxo

‘’I’d say you are wasting my time, but that was before I saw you..’’ he tugged her face closer to his crotch, the bulge underneath the fabrics visibly twitching from having her attention. ‘’You will make it worth my while.’’

‘’What the fuck…’’

Out of all things she could say, that was the one and only thing that she could muster. Her eyes were wide in disbelief, ogling up at the man standing in front of her. 

Y/N was on her knees. A large, worn out book placed in front of her with several lit candles surrounding it. She didn’t think much, having no intentions in mind when she had found the crappy old book in the shelves of the grand library other than to see if it worked.. Of course it wouldn’t work. Curiosity always got her, for better or for worse.

She wasn’t sure which side of the spectrum this would become.

‘’What the fuck, it worked…’’ She repeated, this time a little louder. It wasn’t until the tall man crouched in front of her that she could get a proper closeup of his flawless visuals. 

Handsome, plush lips. His eyes were intense, the dark irises swirling like red wine, the shape of them comparable to that of a dragon.

She wasn’t sure whether he was actually a demon, how could he be? He’s beautiful.

An angel would suit him better.. Well, disregarding the fact that his eyes are glowing red.

‘’Such a filthy mouth.’’ The man tsk’d as his hand reached out to cup her jaw in his large hand, moving her face from side to side. He inched in closer, as if inspecting her features.

‘’Too pretty to use such language.’’

He didn’t seem to even question why she’d summoned him in the first place, as if it was already a given on his end. And it was, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and the shit eating smirk on his face was the proof of it.

Y/N shoved his hand away, to which his response was to immediately stand up on his feet in front of her, kicking the book away. He growled lowly, the candles suddenly bursting into larger flames, as if his annoyance fueled the fire. He stepped closer, now towering over her smaller frame on her knees. Bending forward slightly, he tugged the hair at the back of her head, pulling back to force her to look up at his wicked smile.

‘’You’re a daring girl,’’ he snickered menacingly, ‘’Do you even know who I am?’’

‘’No.’’ Y/N swallowed tightly, wincing when the grip in her hair tightened. Her eyes quickly moved down when she noticed that his hand was slowly undoing his pants, each tooth of his zipper coming undone as his eyes remained hyper fixated on her face.

‘’I’m Kim Namjoon. The demon overlord.’’ His voice dropped, the baritone rumbling in his chest.

‘’You have summoned me, for what reason?’’

He didn’t care for the answer.

‘’I don’t.. know…I didn’t think it would work.’’ Y/N muttered meekly, unable to rip her eyes off of his long fingers taking way too long to pull that damn zipper down.

Why was it so mesmerizing?

‘’Ah, too bad…’’ Namjoon chuckled, small dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled.

‘’I’d say you are wasting my time, but that was before I saw you..’’ he tugged her face closer to his crotch, the bulge underneath the fabrics visibly twitching from having her attention.

‘’You will make it worth my while.’’

‘’What are yo-mmph!” She was unable to finish her sentence when the grasp around her jaw tightened, forcing her mouth open only to shove his thumb inside, smoothing the pad of it against the surface of her tongue.

‘’Silence.’’ Namjoon’s command echoed in the grand room. The very second those words left his mouth, it was as if her throat tightened, unable to squeak out anything but a whimper.

Y/N’s eyebrows were drawn together in annoyance, the bratty attitude not faltering even whilst knowing he’s supposedly a demon lord. She huffed through her nose, instinctively biting down on his thumb as hard as she could. She winced, his skin was soft-- but impenetrable. He definitely wasn’t human, or he would’ve been bleeding.

And the sound erupting from his throat was not that of pain, but a dark snicker.

“Cute.’’ he roughly let go of her jaw to shove two fingers inside of her mouth, deep enough to prod the back of her throat, causing it to constrict around his digits. Tears formed in her eyes, the restricted airflow making her squirm and fall backwards on her behind to get away. She coughs, covering her mouth as she stared up at the smirking demon.

‘’Hm?’’ Namjoon cooed mockingly, however not moving from his spot as he brought his wet fingers to his mouth, licking her spit off of them while maintaining his piercing gaze on her.

‘’Playful, aren’t you?’’ he played with the waistband of his pants, tugging at them as he cocked an eyebrow at her, slowly sauntering forward to her sitting form. Once again, he stood above her, completely disregarding the fact that she initially had attempted to back off. However, he grew impatient. And she was wasting his time.

‘’Get back on your knees, angel.’’ Namjoon put emphasis on the pet name, as if it had a degrading nature coming from him. Y/N’s body moved like it had a mind of its own, quickly getting back into her original position on her knees, hands neatly placed in her lap.

Her body was no longer controlled by her, every command rolling off his tongue springing her body into action as if he was pulling her strings like a puppeteer.

Namjoon’s tongue poked out to wet his lips at the sight below him, finally peeling the caging fabrics down his thighs. It was a slow, tortuous few seconds that felt like an eternity for the two of them.

Y/N’s doe eyes widened, her face flushed red when she saw his length as it sprung free, tip already glazed with precum. He craned his neck to stare down at her, the fire in his irises swirling with desire.

‘’Show me your tongue.’’

Y/N obliged, doe eyes mirroring the fiery gaze he brought upon her as she opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out. Saliva dripped down the tip of her fleshy muscle, Namjoon’s eyes quivered at the sight.

‘’My fallen angel.’’ He smiles, hand now stroking himself with intent. His free grasp reaches for her hair once again, bringing her mouth closer, rubbing the swollen head of his cock against her warm tongue. He bit back a low groan, immediately driving his hips forward to sink his length down her throat. He relished in the way her insides constricted around him as a reflex, ignoring any sign of her body rejecting his girth. 

‘’So pretty with your mouth stuffed. Don’t you dare try to bite, though….’’ He smirked. ‘’Not that it’d do anything, except bring punishment upon yourself.’’

He started to thrust into her mouth, the slick sounds of his cock gliding against her tongue was heavenly, ‘’But perhaps that is what you desire, angel.’’

Y/N’s only response was the way she swallowed his cock, drool dribbling down her chin to pool at the floor below. The skin of his cock was like velvet, smoothly brushing against her tongue with every stroke that gradually grew rougher, deeper, and faster.

‘’Fuck yeah, you’re such a well behaved, pretty little angel.’’ Namjoon praised, and it made her feel...  excited. Never did he think his words would make her want to please, but with every second spent with him; his aura, his voice, his taste-- it drew her in like a sailor towards a siren’s song. He was addictive.

Namjoon continued to fuck her throat as he pleased, low grunts and curses slipping through his teeth, eyes focused on the way his cock disappeared into her mouth with every forward thrust. It was mesmerizing to him, watching her take it so well, muscles relaxed. He could feel her desires grow, smell.. Fuck, even taste her arousal on his tongue. It had him greedy for more.

‘’Enough.’’ He growled as he pulled her back by her hair, drawing a whine from her sweet, swollen lips. He felt something stir in his body, and whether it was his cock, or his chest-- he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t important at the moment. All he knew was that he craved her fleshy insides wrapped around his cock. Y/N wiped her chin with the back of her hand, yelping when Namjoon pulled her up by her upper arm like she weighed nothing, dragging her along with him only to push her back up towards the bookshelf. She gasped, the hard surface pressing against her back wasn’t comfortable. However, she quickly forgot about the discomfort the moment the demon’s lips suddenly crashed against hers in a hungry, devouring kiss. His tongue was longer than she expected, slipping through her lips to find her own, a low guttural moan vibrating in their mouths as he tasted her. She was so, so sweet, and he found himself just as addicted to her, as she was to him.

‘’You’re making it very well worth my time, angel.’’ Namjoon’s praises became more frequent the more he got to feel, taste, and smell her. His hands roamed down the curve of her ass before roughly ripping the fabrics off her body. He hated them, more than anything at this moment; daring to cover the thing he’d decided by now, to claim as his own.

Y/N belonged to him.

‘’Speak.’’ He suddenly said, his rumbling voice loud and powerful yet again when it was an order. Y/N felt the sudden wall that had previously blocked her ability to talk to crumble down.

‘’I-I…’’ She wasn’t sure what to say, only a moan replacing her attempt to speak when Namjoon lifted her up to firmly push her against the shelf, locking her legs around his waist. His body was strong, oozing intimidation and dominance.

‘’I want to fuck you.’’ Namjoon bluntly stated, tilting his head to the side as those endearing dimples reappeared. He inched closer, his fiery breath hot, the scent laced with something comparable to burnt wood. ‘’Tell me, do you want my fat cock? I will give it all to you, pump you full of my cum.’’

He huffed against her lips as he rubbed the bulbous, slick head of his cock back and forth between her soppy folds, teasing her hole by prodding it lightly, gathering the wetness before resuming to rub her clit with his tip. ‘’I said, speak!’’

‘’Please, I want---fuck..’’ Y/N buried her face in the crook of his neck, body already trembling. His cock was scorching hot against her cunt, teasing her swollen clit until she felt her arousal trickle and drip to the floor. ‘’Please fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…’’ She repeated as if in trance, completely enchanted by the demon’s spell.

Funny thing is, he wasn’t using any spell on her all along. She wanted this just as bad as he did.

‘’Angel…’’ Namjoon groaned as he didn’t waste time in pushing himself into her cunt, buried as deep as physically possible. It was the sweetest, most delicious sensation he’s ever experienced.

‘’Holy, fuck, such a sweet little hole. Hear that?’’ He chuckles eerily as he immediately pulls back, only to roughly thrust back inside, the wet sounds of her juices like music to his ears.

‘’Hear how needy your body is for me?’’ He asks again, hissing out more curses every time he thrusts back into her, drawing louder and louder moans and cries.

‘’Yes, oh my god..’’ Y/N whines, wrapping her arms around his neck, digging her nose into his skin. Her sweet canary voice was something he wishes he could hear for all of eternity, and by now he already knew...  He was going to make her his own little plaything.

‘’God?’’ Namjoon laughs as he speeds up, pounding her squelching cunt harder and harder at the mention of ‘god’. It was hilarious, how she could mention such a name at a time like this. ‘’No, my angel. The only name you should utter is Namjoon.’’ He snarled, digging his nails into the flesh of her hips, every thrust earning a sweet cry from her mouth. Skin to skin, harshly smacking together, the way her body bounced sinfully against his own. It was nothing but extraordinary.

‘’N-namjoon! Namjoon, oh fuck, please,’’ Her words were choked by her moans, shaky from the powerful momentum of his rocking hips. She felt the heat build in her lower stomach, his scorching cock rubbing and prodding her insides, not leaving a single inch of her untouched. ‘’Gonna cum!’’

‘’A filthy, fallen angel,’’ Namjoon moaned, pistoning his hips into her, the bookshelf rocking harshly every single time he crashed her body against it, books falling off to pile at the floor.

‘’You’re gonna cum for a demon, you’re gonna cum because of the cock of a creature of hell. You’re such a whore, my whore-- for eternity. That’s what you want to be, isn’t it?’’ He felt his own climax building gradually, kissing and biting at her collarbone.

‘’Beg to be my whore in hell, and I will bring you with me.’’

Y/N didn’t think it through. She didn’t have to. At this point, she had already given her entire being over to him, he wanted nothing else than to remain by his side for eternity-- even if it meant hell.

‘’I want to be yours, forever.. Use me everyday, me only, nobody else!’’ Y/N yells into his neck, placing kisses and possessive bites on his hot skin, ‘’Fill me up, claim me as your whore. Take me with you, Namjoon.’’

‘’Fuck, ohh fuck..!’’ Namjoon thrived in hearing her say exactly what he wished for, the verbal confirmation enough for him to drive his hips into her at an animalistic speed, forcing her own orgasm to erupt around his length. A silent cry that didn’t leave her throat, choked on a sob as she bit down on his shoulder as hard as she could muster, cunt spasming around his slick cock.

‘’My perfect little angel, my oh--’’ Namjoon’s words choked intro a strained moan, guttural and inhuman as his hips stuttered. He wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing her body tightly against his own while his cock throbbed desperately inside, ropes of cum gushing out to fill her up to the brim until some of it was forced to drip out and pool at the floor beneath.

His cum was hot-- too hot, it burned like the fires of hell itself inside of her womb. He’d claimed her as his personal cocksleeve, and her body would no longer know any other man than Namjoon, the demon lord.

Namjoon remained still as he allowed his cock to rest inside of her for a long moment, the scorching sensation no longer painful-- but welcomed. He dropped down to his knees with a thud, Y/N still in his lap as he pulled back to look at her fucked out, blissed expression. She had nothing but awe in her eyes, and saw nobody but the demon in front of her.

‘’Y/N.’’ He said softly, brushing her  hair away from her face. ‘’Come with me.’’

‘’Yes.’’ Y/N didn’t hesitate in her reply, nodding once. Her body trembled in his embrace, to which he simply smiled. Those damned, beautiful dimples once again pressing on his cheeks.

‘’I’m yours.’’

Namjoon’s smile grew wider, this time genuine. He almost didn’t look like he was a demon, but instead.. An angel.

But the swirling fire of red in his eyes reminded you that he was anything but holy.

He cupped your face in his heated hands, drawing you in for a deep kiss, his long forked tongue brushing and tasting every corner of your mouth.

A kiss to seal the deal.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not edit, repost or translate.

[phoenix-downer]

Lover of Life

After the end, a boy and a girl are the only two people left alive in the entire universe. But they need not worry. The boy’s love for the girl and her love for him are more powerful than either of them could ever imagine. 

Based on the myth of Lif and Lifthrasir from Norse Mythology. 

~2000 words. Post-Kingdom Hearts III and Melody of Memory. Light Angst, Romance, Restoration. Written for @sokaizine​, and the banner art is by the lovely Nath. 

The worlds were without form and empty, and the stars were gone from the sky. No light shone save the light from one girl’s beating heart. With her was one boy, one very frightened boy who nevertheless would do anything to keep her safe. With her he felt strong, and with him her light would never go out. 

They were the only two people left alive in the universe.

All the stories had foretold this moment, all the prophecies had spoken of this future. The death of the old worlds was written on parchment and paper as well as stone and steel, but no record had survived. The only stories left were the ones engraved on the hearts and minds of the boy and girl.

“It’s so cold,” said the girl. The darkness had consumed everything but her and the boy. The fruit of the paopu tree had bound their hearts together and granted them life after the end. 

“Here,” the boy said, wrapping her in his jacket. She stopped shivering, and he led her to a rocky outcrop that would protect them from the elements. There they sat and solemnly pondered the events of the final day, with only the wind howling in the distance for company.  

“Do you think everyone else is really…” she said at last, biting her lip. 

He shook his head. “No. We can’t give up on them. We just have to have faith they’ll be okay.”

“Faith, huh?” she said as she rested her hand over her heart. The light within shone dimly, and it cast the boy’s face in light and shadow as he summoned his Keyblade.

“Blaze,” he said softly, and a few moments later, a crackling fire was at their feet. The only warmth in this empty, desolate place besides the light in their hearts.

“I’ll take first watch,” he told her. “You get some sleep.”

She didn’t move from her spot by the fire, just clung to his jacket wrapped around her. His expression softened, and he scooted closer to her. She met him the rest of the way and snuggled into his outstretched arms.

“It’ll be okay,” he said as he wrapped his body around hers, shielding her from harm. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“And I’ll keep you safe,” she murmured sleepily. Her eyes fluttered shut, but the boy’s eyes were wide open, and his heart was filled with worry. Holding the girl as she slept was to reassure him as much as it was to protect her. 

A new World with only the two of them in it—what were they to do? 

~~~

The girl gently shook the boy awake. His eyes fluttered open, and the formerly pitch-black sky was a deep purple now. The embers of the fire glowed red, and he sat up and rubbed his eyes. 

“Look,” she said, her hand brushing against his and leading it to the nearby earth. A tender green shoot poked its head out of the ground, and the boy stroked its soft leaves and marveled at the miracle.

“But how? Without the sun or the stars—”

She pointed at his heart, then at her own. “I think it’s reacting to our light.” 

“How is that even possible?” he asked as he clutched his chest. 

She was silent for a few moments as she stared into the dying fire. “Maybe this is a second chance. Not an ending, but a new beginning.”

The boy thought over her words. The girl saw matters of the heart with full clarity and soundness of mind, and his own heart had the faith of a child combined with wisdom far beyond his years.  

“If it’s reacting to our hearts, then maybe we can get it to react some more,” he said. It hadn’t escaped him that the sky was ever so slightly lighter too. 

She nodded. “The question is, how? What will make the light in our hearts grow?”

He thought for a moment, then grinned and pulled her to her feet. “Dance with me!” 

“D-Dance? You mean right now?”

“Sure, why not?” 

Dancing did not seem very appropriate to the girl, considering the situation. But the boy was not so easily dissuaded, and when she looked at his smiling face and searched his shining eyes, her mind relaxed, and her heart filled with peace.

“Okay,” she said, a slight smile on her lips as she rested a hand on his shoulder. He put his free hand on her waist, then led her through the steps of a waltz. One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three. Their footsteps shuffled across the ground, and the boy gazed into the girl’s eyes and sighed. 

So long as she was with him, even the darkest night didn’t seem hopeless.

When he twirled her, she noticed something remarkable. In the places they’d taken their steps, tender shoots were bursting forth from the earth, a trail of green dotting the once-barren landscape. 

“It’s working! It’s really working!” she cried. Some of the shoots were forming little buds, and she giggled and met the boy’s eyes for a moment before looking around again. 

The boy took her word for it. He couldn’t bring himself to look away, because as far as he was concerned, she was the most beautiful creature in the entire universe. Everything else simply paled in comparison. 

The deep purple of the sky gave way to a dim gray, and still they continued their dance. The boy dipped the girl low, and her hair brushed the ground. She touched his face and spoke his name with the same energy that was breathing life back into the universe, and a moment later, a spring burst forth from the earth. It sprayed them with its cool water, and they laughed and embraced, then paused to drink.

With his thirst finally slaked, the boy sat back and sighed. His stomach growled loudly, making the girl smile. It was a very human thing to be hungry, and she treasured the simple reminder that he was alive. 

He just grinned and rested his hand on his belly. “Think we might be able to grow some food? I could really use a meal.”

She looked all around them, at the green grass and delicate flowers, at the water bringing healing to the earth.

“When I said your name, water came out of the ground, so maybe we could do something similar to get food?”

“I’ve got it!” he cried, his face lighting up as he scrambled to his feet and pulled her up. “Sing with me!”

Singing seemed even more foolish to the girl than dancing, but at a time like this, all the wisdom of the worlds offered no answers, so perhaps indulging in more foolishness was the right thing to do. So she sang along with the boy, a bright melody with a lilting rhythm from the place they’d once called home. He twirled her around, and wonder of wonders, another miracle happened. A paopu tree sprung up out of the ground, its trunk winding and weaving till its leaves unfurled and two ripe pieces of paopu fruit popped into existence. 

“There’s our meal,” the boy said, his eyes dancing. He led the girl to the tree and helped her up, then plucked one of its fruits. She likewise plucked the other fruit, and without another word, they fed each other like they had before. As they consumed the fruit, the light in their hearts grew and grew till it burst forth from their backs in two large wings. The girl smiled when she saw the look of awe and wonder on the boy’s face. This was not the first time this had happened, but their wings were bigger and brighter than ever. 

She found his hand and wove their fingers together. “Shall we?” 

He nodded, and with that, they took off, flying higher and higher till the paopu tree and spring forming a small pool below looked like children’s toys. A few feathers fell off of their wings, and the places they landed burst with light and color, and that light spread forth and brought healing to the land, the sea, the sky. The boy’s and girl’s hearts raced as they flew low over the waters, its sea-salt spray tickling their arms and legs and making them laugh with delight. Then they swooped up, up, up, till they’d reached the heavens. 

The sky was lilac and pink and gold now, though the sun had not yet returned, nor had the moon or stars resumed their posts. The boy and girl slowed their ascent, and he couldn’t help but stare at her. She was the one who had done this. The restoration and healing of the World was all thanks to the light burning steadily in her heart. And that light had been amplified by his love for her and her love for him till it had set the entire universe aflame. 

That flame burned brightly in his heart, and when she looked at him, he thought his heart might melt from the warmth of her gaze. She likewise thought his smile might as well be the sun, and she couldn’t help but continue thinking so when her hand brushed against his and he wove their fingers together. Her smile was shy as he gently pulled her to him, and his heart raced and butterflies danced in his stomach at what he knew he must do, at what he wanted to do more than anything. The girl wanted this too, and it would be the perfect final blow against the darkness, against despair, against the forces that had so cruelly tried to snuff light and life out.

But those forces hadn’t succeeded. They were losing, losing to one courageous boy and one hopeful girl, and the moment Sora kissed Kairi, the two of them secured their victory. The exciting new feelings that filled their hearts as she brought her hands to his face and kissed him back brought forth the moon and the stars, and when he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her more boldly and deeply than he’d ever dared to dream, the sun at long last burst forth, its light filling the sky. The feathers of their wings scattered to the four winds, and Sora and Kairi fell, fell, fell to earth, clinging to each other and laughing with delight. 

When they landed in the waters of Destiny Islands, they knew they had succeeded, that their foolish hopes hadn’t been so foolish after all. Sora’s head popped out of the water first, and Kairi soon joined him. Their beloved Play Island with the paopu tree and pool and Seaside Shack was waiting for them, and on the island were their friends, so dear to them both, called back into existence by the light of their hearts. 

The two of them couldn’t reach the shore fast enough. The moment they did, they were enveloped in a group hug. This was worth all the uncertainty and doubt and fear. Bringing their beloved friends back and getting to embrace them like this. Riku, Terra and Aqua and Ventus, Naminé, Roxas and Axel and Xion, Mickey and Donald and Goofy.

Amidst all the hugs and well-wishes and greetings, Sora and Kairi found the time to gaze at each other, and everything else melted away. 

Thank you, she mouthed, and he grinned and reached for her hand. She interlaced their fingers in acknowledgment that their hearts would be forever one. And so the bringer of life stood hand-in-hand with the lover of life. Surrounding the two of them were their friends, their friends reclaimed from death by the love in their hearts. 

Their bond had made this all possible, and they would treasure this moment in their hearts forever. 

~~~

A/N: This story is based off of the story of Lif and Lifthrasir from Norse Mythology, the only two humans who survive Ragnarok and bring life to the new world. Ever since the very Norse-sounding character names were announced for Dark Road, I wanted to write something Kingdom Hearts-related involving Norse Mythology, and the story of Lif and Lifthrasir felt like it would fit Sora and Kairi really well. Lif’s name sounds like the word for “life” in Old Norse, and Lifthrasir can mean “lover of life,” hence the title for this story. 

A big thank you to all the contributors who poured so much heart and talent into SoKai zine. Your pieces are so beautiful, and I loved reading everyone’s fics and seeing all the lovely art. Thank you to my fellow mods for all your hard work that made this project a reality. And a big thank you to Nath for drawing the banner for this story! I really enjoyed working with you, and you did such an incredible job capturing the mythological feel of the story 🥺❤️

And as always, thank you reading!

[stiltonbasket]

Hi!! Could I perhaps request LQR baby-sitting A-Yu and A-Lan for the renouncement verse? Thanks, love you <333

(brief author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

Lan Qiren’s nephews keep overworking themselves. 

This wouldn’t be a bad thing if they hadn’t been doing it for the last several years, but it’s beginning to wear on them. Xichen’s eyes are always red and swollen from writing letters by candlelight, and Lan Qiren doesn’t remember the last time he saw Wangji without trade reports in his arms and spit-up milk on his robes, so he finally puts his foot down and decides to give all three of them a break in early autumn. 

“Xichen, go take a soak in the hot springs,” he orders, sweeping into the hanshi and shoving everything on Lan Xichen’s desk up one of his sleeves. “Now.”

Lan Xichen is so exhausted that he tries to paint a line of calligraphy onto the expensive wood of his writing table. “Shufu?” 

“You heard me,” Lan Qiren scolds. “Go on! I’ll finish the petition forms by tomorrow.” 

Somewhat bewildered, Lan Xichen ambles out through the hanshi’s back door and splashes into the hot spring, leaving Lan Qiren to march down to the jingshi and confiscate all of Wangji’s trade contracts. He also confiscates baby A-Lan, who is lying in Lan Wangji’s lap and trying to eat his jade pendant. 

“What are you doing?” Wangji asks, watching him tug the rest of his letters out of Wei Ying’s hands and stuff those up his sleeves, too. “Uncle?” 

“You and Wei Ying need a rest,” he announces. “I am taking your work to the meishi, and I am also taking your children. Do not come to fetch them until sunset.” 

And with that, he straps Wei Shuilan to his chest and takes Lan Yu by the hand, bundling them off to his own residence before their parents have time to do much more than blink at him in confusion. 

“Huh,” Wei Wuxian says, after he leaves. “I think your uncle has a point, actually. Let’s go to bed, Lan Zhan.”

__

When Lan Qiren gets back to the meishi, he settles A-Lan down for a nap and gives Xiao-Yu a snack and some silver puzzle rings to improve his hand-eye coordination. “It almost reminds me of the old days,” he sighs, as Shuilan kicks her chubby little feet before falling asleep with her thumb in her mouth. “Even if Wangji never went down for naps without a fuss.” 

Lan Qiren was nineteen when he became acting sect leader, and he was also nineteen when he received custody of Xichen: not coincidentally, because the clan hoped that taking charge of the sect would prevent him from raising his nephew and allow one of them to take over his care instead. But Lan Qiren was nothing if not stubborn, so Lan Huan went with him everywhere—to meetings, discussion conferences, and even the odd wedding now and then, and was generally such an amiable baby that he adjusted to his uncle’s fraught travelling schedule without a fuss. In fact, the first time Lan Huan met Jiang Yanli had been during a week-long cultivation event at Lotus Pier, yawning in a sling on Lan Qiren’s back while Jiang Yanli napped on Jiang Fengmian’s chest, and Jiang Fengmian had even mentioned the possibility of a betrothal between the two babies when they were older. 

“My wife wants to contract an engagement between Xiao-Li and a son born to her sworn sister, but Jin-zongzhu and Jin-furen have not yet had a child,” Jiang-zongzhu had sighed, letting his daughter’s little fingers wrap around his. He looked heartbroken at the mere thought of parting from her, Lan Qiren remembers—which was probably why he named her yan li, to hate separation, because Jiang Yanli’s premature birth nearly stole her away from her parents the moment she entered the world. 

“Lanling is closer to Gusu than Yunmeng,” Lan Qiren pointed out. Yunmeng Jiang would make an excellent alliance by marriage, and he was fairly certain at the time that Jiang Yanli would grow up to resemble her mild-mannered father rather than her hot-tempered mother. He was right, of course, since Jiang-guniang took after Jiang Fengmian in both looks and character, but contracting a betrothal with her for Xichen would have done both of them a disservice—because Xichen could never have loved her as she would have wanted to be loved, and he could never have given her children, either. 

“Shugong?” a little voice says at Lan Qiren’s elbow, distracting him from the possibility of a world where Lan Huan married Jiang Yanli and crippled Lanling Jin’s influence after the Sunshot Campaign. “Xiao-Yu is done with the puzzle. I have another one?”

“Already?” Lan Qiren asks. This is yet another trait Xiaohui inherited from Wei Wuxian despite not being related to him, and Lan Qiren feels his heart swell with pride at his great-nephew’s intelligence. “Then you may play with the wooden blocks on that shelf, and see how high you can build your tower without letting it fall over.”

Xiao-Yu settles down on the hearthrug to stack up the fine-carved building blocks, and Lan Qiren goes through his nephew’s papers in peace for another hour before A-Lan wakes up from her nap and wails for her milk at the top of her lungs. 

“Do not cry,” Lan Qiren soothes, securing the child in her swaddle before heating a bottle with a warming talisman. “Here is your supper, and your xiongzhang is there on the mat.”

He has to keep A-Lan in his arms after that, since his tiny great-niece is so used to being held that putting her down would break her little heart; and Lan Qiren would rather die than let go of her, because he dearly misses holding his nephews, and not so long ago he was certain he would never have the chance to hold a baby again. 

And then, as if cuddling A-Lan to his chest wasn’t wonderful enough, Xiao-Yu pulls one of Wangji’s old picture books out of Lan Qiren’s storage trunk and runs over to sit in his lap, pushing the trade contracts aside and replacing them with the fable of the magic lotus lantern.

“Shugong, read to Xiao-Yu?” the little boy begs, snuggling into Lan Qiren’s overgown next to his cooing baby sister. “A-Die likes this story best.”

Of course he does, Lan Qiren thinks, as he flips the cover open and starts to read. The tale of the magic lotus lantern was written about a child whose mother was stolen away from him, taken back to the heavens by force when her godly brother discovered the magic lantern that illuminated her way to the mortal world—and for a while Wangji believed that his mother was like the immortal Sanshengmu, who loved a human man and had a child with him before returning to the realm she came from. Sanshengmu’s story ended with her being reunited with her husband and son, and the little Wangji never gave up hope that his own mother might come back in much the same way, even after he was old enough to stop believing in fairy stories. 

“Why did they fight?” Xiao-Yu asks, leaning closer to see the picture of the goddess’s lover with his brush and scroll. “That’s against the rules!”

“Sometimes people who love one another fight because they cannot understand their feelings,” Lan Qiren tells him, tapping the point of his soft button nose. “So it was with Sanshengmu and Liu Yanchang-gongzi, and when he awoke, she revealed her true identity, and explained why she sent a rainstorm to plague him after she read his poem. 

“Both apologized profusely. Days went by, and Liu Yanchang finally recovered. By then the goddess and the scholar had fallen deeply in love, and marriage naturally ensued. Encouraged by Goddess Sanshengmu, Liu Yanchang continued with his journey to the capital to take the imperial examination, and months later, the goddess gave birth to their son, whom she named Chenxiang.

“At the same time, the goddess’s celestial family had learned about her marriage to an earthly man. Her brother, known as Divine Erlang, found his unruly sister and demanded that she renounce her new family and return with him to their heavenly home, but Sanshengmu refused, and battled him with the power of her magical lotus lantern…”

__

“I want to paint a portrait of this,” Wei Wuxian whispers, when he and Lan Zhan creep into the meishi after sunset to find Lan Qiren fast asleep on the floor, with A-Lan snoozing on his chest and Xiao-Yu curled up in the crook of his arm. “They’re so sweet, Lan Zhan!”

“Mm,” Lan Zhan murmurs, his eyes softening as he looks at the open book on his uncle’s desk. Lan Qiren clearly just finished reading it before he fell asleep, because the book is open to the very last picture; a color painting of a goddess embracing a youth and an older man with a lotus-shaped lantern hanging at the crook of her elbow. “Bring a blanket and a pillow, Wei Ying. We should let them sleep.”

(Lan Qiren often finds himself toting his little great-nephew and niece around the Cloud Recesses after that, and Xiao-Yu’s favorite place to play in his parents’ absence is always the house where his shugong lives.)

[savethelastdan]

Sesskagu Week Day 2: Green (Apart)

Idea came from @dearestpartnerofgreatness​

"I was wonderin' when you'd get here." Sliding both hands behind his head, Inuyasha looked his half-brother up and down with more than a little smugness. "Took a week to finally admit to yourself that you were wrong, stupid?"

"I was not wrong," Sesshomaru growled, despite the tinge of relief that the hanyou's statement proved that he'd successfully hunted Kagura down. That he'd spotted his brother sleeping on a curved branch of a tree outside heart of the village was both a detriment (in that he had to listen to him talk) and a blessing (he had no interest in walking around the village looking like a fool while she danced around avoiding him). "She overreacted."

A single dog ear twitched in amusement. "Great apology. Should go over well."

"I would think," Sesshomaru retorted, voice lowering as a group of villagers reached the top of the hill and promptly about-faced upon seeing him, "you would welcome the opportunity to remove her from your home, so that you may have peace once again."

Inuyasha's mouth opened comically wide before snapping shut. "Humph. Fine."

Stretching until several bones in his back cracked, he leapt down from the tree and bounded off. Sesshomaru turned his back to the tree, trying to appear unflappable as possible.

He hadn't been wrong, no matter how much the wind sorceress fussed. If anything, she had taken advantage of his generosity. Had he not lost months of sleep, seeking a way to stuff her soul back in an unmastered body, with an unmastered heart at her disposal? Had he not then allowed her to join his party on their travels despite the constant arguing between herself and Jaken and how his mood suffered because of it?

She had repaid him by deciding, for no reason at all, to start collecting. Nothing of importance; naturally, the bits and bobbles that drew Kagura's interest were as useless as they were commonplace. Withering leaves, sharp stones in muddied colors, feathers and scales and scraps of cloth or petrified wood, all constantly underfoot.

It was childish. It was pointless. And so, after the hundredth time something small and irksome found itself under his foot, Sesshomaru had tossed the whole pile away.

Which was how he'd been left with a blow to his chest that took a full day to heal, while Kagura ran off to invade Inuyasha's stupid little house in the stupid little village. The fact she'd rather be surrounded by humans than be around him was taken with the full force of insult she'd meant it to be. By now she'd probably convinced Kohaku and Rin to take her side…

At least he had Jaken's understanding.

He should not even be rewarding such a tantrum, by marching here to collect her. But…despite the headaches that her presence occasionally brought, her absence had endeared him to certain feelings. Those that, perhaps, could be analogized to how Kagura herself might have felt, back in the days where her much-wanted heart had been miles away.

Not that he could ever bring himself to say something like that out loud. Even to her, who had managed to wring quite a few utterances out of him that even Rin would have had trouble believing had come from Sesshomaru's own tongue.

There had to be a line somewhere.

(Perhaps time would wear it down, eventually, but unless she came home, the situation was moot.)

Annoyance stung the space behind his teeth as Inuyasha returned, no wind witch in tow. From the grumpy expression on the hanyou's face, he wasn't too thrilled about it either.

"She says she ain't interested in talkin' to ya." Folding both arms over his chest, Inuyasha glared in Sesshomaru's direction. "But you're right, she's overstayed her welcome. So start thinkin' how you're going to convince her to leave."

Sesshomaru bristled; demonic energy flooded his veins. "I do not take orders from- "

"Cut it out, you stopped being scary when you let Kagome start callin' ya Big Brother." The last few words were said in a high-pitched mimicry of the priestess, though it was quickly followed by the classically-ridiculous smile that Inuyasha always got when he mentioned his wife. "If it helps, I think she's just being difficult. She stopped thinkin' up creative ways to kill you a few days ago; the rest of the time, she's just been moping around. One gritted-teeth apology'll probably work."

That most certainly did not help, because as soon as they were in the same room again Sesshomaru was sure the reason for her ire would no doubt return in full force.

Inuyasha's brow dropped. "You seriously not gonna do it?"

"Would you?" Sesshomaru retorted icily, before he could stop himself.

"I," Inuyasha said, with the slow relish of someone who had been waiting for this exact question, "would've never thrown out her stuff in the first place."

Tenseiga and Bakusaiga's commentary was, while amusing, not particularly useful. Beating his brother to a pulp for being a know-it-all would do nothing but earn the ire of his sister-in-law. Which Sesshomaru did not need today.

"What's the problem with having stuff, anyway," Inuyasha continued, scratching behind one ear as though this was a casual family visit. "Other than the fan and feathers, it's not like she got to keep any shit around before. From what Kohaku said, Naraku didn't like for any of 'em to go exploring much, either. She's got the time and you've got the space, so it's a stupid thing to fight about."  

As much as he did not want to admit it (and one could imagine just how much that was), that was a fair point. As was his belief that she could have chosen a more interesting and less obnoxious form of self-expression.

"You know, she mentioned somethin' a few times when she was cursing you…" Trying to keep his tone even was difficult, but the thought of Kagura going home helped. Even though this particular statement felt kinda unfair, even against someone like Sesshomaru. "How you didn't lift a finger to save her life, and now you won't even let her enjoy it, or…?"

Sitting with his feet propped on the windowsill, Jaken hummed a happy tune. It had been over a week without the annoying witch around, and he felt in much better spirits with her gone! No more sudden bursts of wind to knock him over in the corridors, or piles of random garbage from who-knew-where cluttering up the place. And there was still at least two weeks before Rin and Kohaku came for their annual summer visit and disturbed his peace.

Granted, Lord Sesshomaru's mood had been…sour since she'd gone, to the point that he'd left the castle in a huff the day before. But that was not a problem for Jaken; if anything, it hopefully meant that soon they'd be back to the old days of 24/7-wandering, offering challenges to whatever foolish yokai crossed their path! Not that having time to rest in the castle wasn't nice, but he certainly missed the days before Lord Sesshomaru had settled down, so-to-speak, and regulated his travels to the fall and spring seasons.  

Suddenly, a powerful aura electrified the air, sending a chill zipping up through his legs. Leaning towards the window, he scanned the landscape with excitement. That must be Lord Sesshomaru! Perhaps he had returned with a task, a quest, just like the days before his Lord's heart had turned -

Oh no. Oh no.

Because yes, indeed, there was his esteemed Lord touching down in the front courtyard. But unfortunately, right at his side, with a smile he could see from here, was that annoying sorceress. As he watched, Sesshomaru brushed a hand against her arm with such uncharacteristic softness that it made the kappa feel ill.

Kagura said something (probably wicked, from the way her scarlet eyes glinted in the sunlight) and then twisted to unload something off her back. To Jaken's horror, she was carrying a knapsack. The same one she used to collect her stupid little trinkets all the time.

And it looked heavy.

[archonanqi]

fragile as dust / 10 - above the clouds

🔖 [first] [prev] [next]

---

You were pleased to see a hint of surprise on Zhongli’s face when you flung open the front door three hours before you were meant to come home from work. Even Zhongli got caught off guard sometimes, it seemed. 

“Back so soon?” Zhongli put down his book and watched with raised brows as you sprinted across the living room to your own, then back. “Oh dear, has there been another fire?”

“Very funny,” you found yourself smiling. “Xiangling wants to bring me to Cuijie Slope to gather some Qingxin. We might be camping there overnight! She told me to go home and grab some warmer clothing.” You flapped your billowing white sleeves at him to make your point. This was one of the first pieces of clothing he had bought you, and you found excuses to wear it the moment so much as a breeze picked up. It was warm, comfortable, and it had pockets!

Though certainly, the way that Zhongli usually smiled when he saw you in it wasn’t half bad either. 

Today, he did not smile. “Cuijie Slope?” The slight edge to Zhongli’s voice had you taking pause as you slung your backpack over your shoulder. You studied his face, but found, as always, nothing to betray his emotions. “Xiangling told you that?”

“Yes, Mr. Zhongli,” you said, more carefully now. “Is it a problem? Sorry, I should have asked you beforehand, I know—“

“Hmm. It’s nothing at all.” Zhongli said, picking his book back up. “Though Cuijie is known to have its fair share of Hilichurl camps, Xiangling is a good fighter. You two will be fine.” 

Ouch. Though there was no way Zhongli could know of your Vision, it still stung that Xiangling had so much mastery over hers and you— well. 

“Thank you, Mr. Zhongli.” You quietly returned to your room, the oddity of the interaction quickly forgotten in your excitement. This would be the furthest you had ever ventured out of Liyue Harbor, and with the lovely Xiangling, no less. You stuffed an extra set of clothes into your bag, and another book for good measure — sometimes waiting for the hunting traps to spring took hours that even Xiangling’s bright voice couldn’t fill. 

You paused in front of the drawer by your bed. It certainly didn’t seem like fate was fond of the idea of you seeking Zhongli’s help with the Vision, and frankly, neither were you. At best, you would receive lessons from the most talented (and only) Geo Vision user you knew. At worst? Well, you had never seen Zhongli’s fury, and you didn’t plan on forcing him into one. The longer you waited, the angrier he would be at your deception. Perhaps your chance at telling him had already passed.

And what good would the Vision be if you brought it with you? If Xiangling saw it, would she tell Zhongli? Though you didn’t think so, it was not a risk you were willing to take.

Before you left, your gaze fell upon the dragon’s fang on the windowsill. Whether it was truly Rex Lapis’, you did not know; but you could not imagine Zhongli lying. You stuffed it into your bag along with everything else. Certainly, something associated with the God of Wealth would be good luck all the same. 

Zhongli had already opened the front door for you when you emerged from your room, waiting with his hands behind his back. “Have a lovely trip,” he said, with so much warmth in his voice that you briefly considered cancelling on Xiangling and staying home with him instead. “And Hansi?”

“Yes, Mr. Zhongli?” 

His golden eyes glittered in the sunlight as he looked, it seemed, straight through you. 

“Please do stay safe.” 

—-

“Wow, for a ‘slope’, this— this is really tall,” you joked feebly between rattling breaths. Was it just you, or was it getting a little harder to breathe? It seemed like you’d been climbing at an incline for hours.

Xiangling pulled to a sudden stop in front of you, almost tripping you over. You peered at her in silence inquisition, and after a moment of eyeing you carefully, she finally spoke. “Okay. Okay, you have to promise not to tell Mr. Zhongli about this.”

“About...?” You asked. 

The little chef chewed her lip for another few seconds before blurting, “there’s no Qingxin in Cuijie Slope. That’s not where we’re going.”

“Wait, what?”

“We’re not at Cuijie Slope,” she said, words flowing faster than the waterfall you’d just passed. “My dad would’ve lost his mind if he found out, so I had to say that we were going to Cuijie.” She paused, eyeing your expression and grabbing your hand. “Please don’t be mad at me! It’s all mountains here so there’s gonna be SO much more Qingxin than the one or two we usually find and- and I’ve never even been here so just think of all the rare ingredients waiting to be found and—“

“Xiangling, where are we?” You asked, even though you already had a feeling you knew.

Xiangling sighed, before finally admitting: “Jueyun Karst.”

Immediately, you knew that you had to turn around and go home. Of the stories that Zhongli had told you, plenty were about Jueyun, the land of the mystical and illuminated Adepti. The concentrated mystical energy here attracted plenty of unfriendly creatures — and the Adepti themselves certainly didn’t sound to be the welcoming sort. 

But before you could squash it, another memory came to mind. The pure Cor Lapis that Zhongli treasured so much, the one from his dear friend— did he not say that it could only be found in Jueyun Karst?

Xiangling was still going on with no sign of slowing down. “—I know that some people say that it’s dangerous but I’ve heard the little girl from Bubu Pharmacy come here, so how dangerous can it really be? And besides, what’s an adventure without a little bit of excitement—?”

Yes, how dangerous could it be for two Vision-holders, if a child could come and go as she pleased? Surely you could dip in, find a few ingredients for Xiangling… perhaps a Cor Lapis or two for Zhongli and get home before night fell and the monsters came out? You could already imagine the smile on Zhongli’s face, the gentle thanks he would offer—

Xiangling finally paused to take a breath, still carefully eyeing your expression. “But of course, if you want to go home, I won’t stop you.“ 

“No, this is exciting,” you beamed, “let’s go.”

—-

As you walked along the paths of Mt. Hulao, the dread in your heart at disobeying Zhongli slowly waned. Never had Zhongli explicitly forbidden you from coming here — he’d only warned you against it. There was no contract to be broken. He would surely forgive you when no harm came to pass.

While Xiangling carefully bottled each Qingxin, sweet flower and mint petal she came across, you busied yourself with peering at every Cor Lapis vein along the rock path up. It seemed that the higher you went, the purer the Lapis got, and eventually, you managed to — with a lot of help from Xiangling and her polearm — crack open a chunk that shone so brilliantly translucent under the sun, you had to squint to look at it.

You could barely wait to see the look on Zhongli’s face. You carefully wrapped the prized Lapis in a handkerchief, then placed it in your pocket — you didn’t want to even risk it getting scratched by all the stuff in your bag. 

The sun had stained the horizon with the color of Zhongli’s eyes by the time you neared the peak of the mountain, yet Xiangling showed no signs of wanting to go home. A few times, you wondered if you should say something— yet when you swung around the steep path and emerged from the trees to an open sky full of monumental stone forests draped in wispy clouds, any lingering apprehension you might have had disappeared instantly. 

It especially helped that Xiangling, wielding her flames as proficiently as she did in the kitchen, made short work of chasing away any Hilichurlian creatures that came by. 

“That one looked a little different,” you pointed out as Xiangling sent another little gathering of hilichurls packing.

“Yup, I think that Xingqiu — he’s my friend, he knows everything — called it… a samachurl?” Xiangling offered. “They can use the elements, but they’re still Hilichurls. Nothing to worry about! Really, I don’t know why everyone made such a big fuss about this m—” 

In the next few seconds, time seemed to slow to a crawl. 

All you knew was heat, blinding and searing against your cheeks. The sky-shattering explosion that followed was the loudest thing you had heard in your life, and you could only watch as the plume of ravenous flame hit Xiangling squarely on her side. She crumpled to the ground with a small, broken sound, clutching at her shoulder. Through her fingers, you could see the raw red scarlet of blood.

A creature you had never seen before appeared before the two of you, hovering two feet above the ground. It was dressed in a fur-lined, crimson shawl. A black, bird-like mask hid all of its face but glowing, hollow orange eyes that flicked between you and Xiangling. After a few seconds, it laughed, an ugly noise that seemed to echo all around you. 

“And here I was, wo̝̕r̠r̻̠̲͔̮̟̥i̷̲̼e̺͠d̗̖̗̼̮,” it chittered,, waving its flaming staff around with glee. Occasionally, it lapsed into a language you did not know, but which sounded so ancient that it chilled your bones, “that the trespasser would b̶̮̼̹e̹̘͚̗ ̹̣t̯͔̪͇h҉̩̮̩̺̣̫e̞̦̞̣̫̪ ͖͈͔̦̰̱s͖̲̮̺̳is̥̺̬͙t̫͕e͎̘̜͚͕͞r͏̬̞̟͚͉͓ͅ of the Prince! But just two humans! One blessed by the Archon of Flame! And the other— the other reeks of the A̱͙̣̙̤̲̳r͎c̥̳͚̩͠h͏̙̮̙̗̭̣̬o̹̫̮̕n̰͔ ̼͜o͉͔̼̟f͇̞̦ ̮̩͕̻͟S̲͎̥t͔̼̼on̳ę̝̰̤̖̭̥!̣͚͕̜!”

Was the creature an adeptus? It could speak, and though much was gibberish that you didn’t understand, perhaps it could be reasoned with. “We’re terribly sorry for trespassing,” you tried to steel your shaking voice, “oh Mighty and Illuminated Adeptus. We’ll leave immediately. Please grant us a safe passage through the forest.”

“ A̭̱͍̮͘D̰͖͓̲̲Ȩ̙͚̺̻̞̻P͢TU̮̣̞͈̠S? ” It shrieked, a ring of fire forming around it in a sphere. “How dare you liken me to the servants of an Archon? I am an Abyss Mage! W̱̻̥̙̗͔͝e̳̘̺͎͔͎͓ are the Abyss Order! We will de̤̹͉͕͖̩s̙͎̦͖̩̯̰͘t͈͈͍͈r̵̪͍͚̫o҉y̜͙̭̙͞ ͍̥͙͢th̕e̙̮̘͕̬̤͎͘ ̡͇r̦͞ul̗̮͉̪̠͘e of the Archons, and bring about a new world!”

“What are you doing in the Adepti’s Abode, if you want to destroy the Archons?” It seemed to like hearing itself talk, and as long as it was talking, it was not hurting you. For the first time, you were mildly glad that your life prior to Zhongli taught you this. 

“I suppose there is no h̠͉͝a̝̱̖r͖m̥̞ ̷͇̖̩i̼͉̝͠n̪͚̬͢ͅ ͍̪̹͎̝͍͉te̦͍̤̤̳̼̕l͓̝̣̹̗͢ḻ͝i͓͉̹̹͜n̘͎͔͚̟̩g͓̩̰ ͕͙y̴̭ͅo̤̞̞̬̞ͅu̯̫̪̺̦͓̖, you’ll be d̻̪e̖̦a͓͘d̹͕ soon enough,” it laughed again. “There is an object of power here, enough to be a God’s! If we can get our hands on it—“

Beside you, Xiangling had shakily gotten back on her feet, the usual fire in her eyes dulled. She looked so suddenly small that your heart broke. You would get her out of here if it killed you. “Do you think you can walk?” You whispered to her, and you were infinitely relieved to see her nod slightly. “I’m going to distract it. Go run and get help.”

To your surprise, it was the easiest decision you’d made in your life. Xiangling was hurt, and she could not fight. To leave her here would be to leave her to die. And so, it had to be you. Your mind suddenly clear, you reached into your bag and brandished the dragon’s tooth at the Abyss Mage. 

“This is a tooth of Rex Lapis himself,” you shouted, your voice only breaking twice. “How’s that for a powerful object, huh!?”

“R̂̋͜e̒̿̏̅͛̊̓xͭ̿͊͊͜ ̓̄ͭ̐ͥ̕L̂͂aͮ͊̐p̷iͬͣs͆̍̿͐͊ͯ̉͏—? No, you can’t fool me! The object we came for was not of a God a̖͜s̤ ̧̖̜̜p̯o͡w̪̫̮͈͈̣̖e̫̩rf̣̖̼̗̻̮u͕͇̻̘̹͢l҉̖̝̫̥ ͚̲̞̮̱͍͢ą͓͈s̪͔̩̜̼̥̥̕ ͚ͅthe Geo Archon.” 

“So, wouldn’t something from the Geo Archon himself be even better, dumbass?” You were slowly finding a strange calm, taking slow steps away from Xiangling, putting the Abyss Mage in between her and yourself. “Won’t your Prince be mad if he knows you passed up something that used to be part of an Archon, to find a minor God’s artifact?” You were taking liberties here, and you hoped with every fiber of your being that the creature was stupid enough to take the bait.

“T͠h̕͜e͡ ̨P͝r͝i͘̕n͘c͘e̕…” it seemed to shudder, the flame in its eyes glowing anew. “Give the tooth to me!”

“Come and get it!” You shrieked at an octave reminiscent of the Mage itself, and with all your might, began sprinting away from Xiangling — further up the mountain. You did not turn around to make sure that Xiangling was able to escape, or even to make sure that the Abyss Mage was following you. You simply ran, and ran, and prayed.

—-

The first time you paused for breath, the muscles in your legs aching, the Mage materialized in front of you once more. How foolish of you to think that you could outrun something that wielded the arcane. 

“Give me the dr̷̕͢a̢go̸n̨'͏̧s ͝҉t͜o̶͘o͝ţ̕͝h͟,” it demanded. “You dare defy me, human ?”  There was nothing but disgust in its voice, and you knew at once: Mage or not, it was the same as every man, every bully, every noble who had ever tormented you. It expected you to run. It expected you to beg, and grovel, and cry. 

It did not expect you to run towards it, screaming words you had only heard uttered between sailors at the harbor. 

And certainly, it did not expect you to drive the tooth, with all your might, straight into the ring of fiery energy around it. Where the tooth met flame, red crystals erupted amidst a kaleidoscope of sparks, covering you in a warm crimson glow. The Abyss Mage screeched, a terrible sound, as the shield around it cracked — then shattered with a hot, explosive force that threw you to the ground. 

When you picked yourself up again, your veins so full of adrenaline that you could hardly stand, the Abyss Mage was sitting in a dazed, crumpled heap on the ground.

With the last of your strength, you whipped your bag — all four books and two day’s worth of clothes packed tight — against the Mage’s head with so much force that the bag’s contents burst out of its seams and spilled onto the ground. Without another word, the creature fell to the ground. 

You weren’t sure if it was dead. You didn’t want to find out. Leaving everything on the ground, you turned around, and for the second time that night, you ran — and you prayed.

—-

At night, Mt. Hulao was a completely different beast. The mountain was pitch dark, the only sources of light the pale moon — and the faintly glowing, large chunks of… amber? that lined the mountainside. Sometimes, when the moonlight lined up just right, you swore that you could make out vague shapes within them. More than a dozen times, you lost track of the trail, and had to carefully backtrack until you could make out the dirt path amidst the grass. 

Then, it began to rain. 

Your clothes were warm, but they were not waterproof. Even as you tried to walk under the shelter of trees, you could feel the water soaking right through the silk and cloth, the mountain wind chilling you to your core. If you didn’t get warm soon, you doubted that you would survive even a few more hours.

A hint of panic was slowly crawling its way up your throat, but you were determined not to let it past your lips. All that mattered in the world was: finding Xiangling, then finding your way back to the harbor. You’d take any punishment from Zhongli, any amount of lectures or— physical retribution, if it meant that you could see his face, feel the warmth of home, once again.

In your pocket, the chunk of Cor Lapis sat snug and safe. It was a small blessing.

You were so preoccupied with your thoughts that you did not notice the vines under you begin to shift. 

That is, until suddenly, your feet stopped moving. You went down with a yelp that dissolved into a scream as you landed badly on your wrist. Immediately, you tried to scramble back to your feet, but they were firmly stuck to the ground and coated in a viscous orange liquid that looked a lot like the massive amber chunks around the mountain. 

The shapes inside them—

To your horror, you found that you couldn’t move the wrist you fell on. With your good hand, you desperately clawed at the liquid and only succeeded in spreading it everywhere, and as it clung to your clothes and hair, beginning to harden. 

Against your throat, your necklace seemed to tighten. 

“You dared to trespass on the Land of the Adepti,” a tremendous voice thundered around you. “ And now, you will pay the price”.

For a brief moment, it was hilarious. Of all the damned times you had begged them for help, for escape from your hunger and fear and life — of all times, now the Adepti chose to take notice of you? The panic trickled through, leaving your lungs in a hysterical little laugh. The liquid had crawled its way up your thighs, and you knew that there was no use begging for your life. The Adepti did not care.

And so, you begged for Xiangling instead. “My friend is still on the mountain. Please grant her safe passage through Jueyun Karst.” The amber had reached your chest, hardening rapidly against the cold night air. There was no answer.

“Please grant her safe passage through Jueyun Karst,” you repeated. The amber had reached your shoulders. 

“Please grant her safe passage through Jueyun Karst.” Your neck. 

“Please—“ 

—-

A memory:

It had been about six days since you had that bout of nightmares, since Zhongli sat by your side as you slept.

The morning after, you’d woken up feeling strangely full and content. You could vividly remember your last dream: Zhongli, sitting amidst dust and sunlight. 

The only indication of the previous night’s occurrences had been the wooden chair sitting by your bed.

You’d joined Zhongli for breakfast that day, expecting him to comment on your nightmares, and braced yourself for the uncomfortable conversation. 

“If you ever need someone to speak to,” was all he’d said instead, his gorgeous eyes unreadable as always, “remember that I am here.” 

—-

What a silly thing to suddenly remember.

Zhongli— what would he think of your disappearance? Would he go looking for you in Cuijie Slope? How long until he marked you down as a simple waste of his Mora and moved on with his life? 

Even if Xiangling made it back safely and told him about where you were… You were certain that this was the one time Zhongli would not be coming to your aid. He knew the dangers of Jueyun Karst, and he was nothing if not careful. 

How odd, to be so achingly sad in your last moments, when you were so lucky — lucky enough to know Zhongli’s gentle warmth during your short life.

As the amber closed over your eyes, your last thoughts were of Zhongli’s hands in yours.

[jhoudiey]

You like to play God, don't you?

Wrote this fic a while back, #ChickenChallenge starts trending on magicam again, and Yoru ends up trying to distract herself with her friends. Ends up watching Jade as he builds a terrarium, and ends with dumb and dumber fluff. 1825 words.

hey you’re that chicken girl from NRC right?

Yoru stared at her phone. Idia had finally updated it so that she was able to use it freely, her hands no longer an issue on the touch screen. She normally didn’t pay attention to notifications, but had texted him earlier that night hoping to hang out, instead her magicam had exploded, messages popping in so quickly she could hardly keep track

show me ur feet

where else do you have feathers?

check it out, I’ve got weird feet too!

Whoa! Is that from a magic accident!? Crazy!!

omg ur disgustingggggg!!!!

you fucking freak!

ahahahaha no way your real. You’re like a chicken!!!!

can you send me a pic of your chicken feet? They’re so freaky I wanna show my friend!

you ever jerked a guy off with those? Do you want to?

She stared at the picture of the penis in her inbox with disgust, is this how normal people communicated? Why were all these people she didn’t know suddenly messaging her anyway? It was already past midnight, didn’t they have anything better to do? She exited her messages and found there had been a series of throwback posts from NRC Halloween, #ChickenChallenge was trending again. She sighed and closed the application, having lived through that once had been enough, she had no desire to repeat the experience online.

Idia still hadn’t texted her back, but her mood was soured. Focusing on her alchemy work wasn’t enough to distract her from the constant buzzing coming from her phone.

“Fuck this” she grumbled, throwing her phone onto her bed before launching herself out the window. She didn’t need to wait for a text back from Idia, she’d just show up, the same as always.

As luck would have it, however, Idia was busy. He wasn’t gaming as was usual for him at this time of night, but was in the middle of a video chat with Vita, making it much more awkward to sit in the corner of his room quietly. She didn’t want to know what they talked about when it was just the two of them. She wandered back out of the dorm, hesitating in the Hall of Mirrors. It was late, she should just go home...but… he might still be awake too.

She knocked on the door tucked down the halls of Octavinelle dorm, silently cursing herself for going down there in the first place.

“Come in”

Jade welcomed her into his and Floyd’s shared room, a small smile painted on his lips. He was in his pajamas, though clearly invested in building a terrarium, plants and stones laid out carefully on his desk in front of him. She spied Floyd, his pajama shirt discarded on the floor beside his bed, fast asleep curled around one of his pillows facing away from them. He’d likely turned away from the lamp light Jade had kept on as he worked.

“Ahh, I guess it is too late, I’ll go” Yoru mumbled looking between them, she’d never gotten along comfortably with Jade.

“You can stay. I don’t mind, Yoru-san,” He held his hand out to offer Floyd's desk chair to her “Would you care to join me? Clearly something is the matter or you wouldn’t have come by so late. I do know how much you loathe to be here.”

She hesitated.

If she stayed, she’d have to deal with his casual cruelty and observant eye, if she left she may have to deal with another dozen messages about how she was a disgusting bird freak who really should be embarrassed to look like that, not that she needed the reminder. She sighed and crawled onto the chair, her legs tucked in against her body, arms clutched around them as she watched Jade work. He was meticulous.

Like everything he did, every movement was measured, everything planned well in advance to come together just as he imagined it.

“Is this what you normally spend your weekends doing?” She asked, her eyes following his graceful hands as he arranged some moss.

“Hmm, it is something I am quite fond of, yes.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better to keep a garden or something? What’s the point of this?”

He laughed quietly.

“This is what humans call ‘a hobby’ I believe. The point is to enjoy it, Yoru-san.”

She rested her chin on her knees, her eyes drifting across his desk to the discarded pieces of clothing on the floor near Floyd's bed. She felt Jade watching her and turned her gaze back to him.

“But why do you enjoy it? What’s so good about building a tiny garden in a jar?”

“You mean what’s so entertaining about creating and controlling an entire ecosystem one can hold in their hands? I wonder…”

She snorted.

“Ahhh, so it’s just something else you can manipulate. Makes sense.” She grinned at him, his hands expertly arranging rocks along the bottom of the jar.

“How cruel, Yoru-san, to suggest my innocent hobby is anything but… I can’t deny the implications though.”

“Hah, so you admit it then. No wonder you like it...” She chuckled, her eyes wandering once again to Floyds sleeping form, his back slowly rising and falling with his breaths.

“Admit it? No, I simply enjoy when certain things go as planned” He smirked at her. He’d caught her wandering eyes twice now, though she was trying to hide it. She hadn’t come here to see him, after all. She faced him again, not wanting to meet his eyes instead focusing on his hands.

“Do you ever add bones?”

“Oya? What is it you’re trying to imply, Yoru-san?”

“...They’d be good for the soil. I can bring you some, if you need.”

“I suppose that would raise fewer questions than gathering them myself...Thank you.”

“Mmmm” She nodded with her head still on her knees, content to watch him in silence. He was building a whole planet before her, a God playing with nature to whatever suited his whim. A rock here, moss there… no wait… over there instead. It was fascinating and tedious at the same time. His hands weaved patterns from nothing, a garden blossoming from his fingertips. She felt her attention slipping and closed her eyes, the soft tinkling of his tools being drowned out by the slow tide of Floyd's slumbering breath. She tilted her head towards him, her own breathing slowing to match his like the sea lazily lapping at the shore.

“Why don’t you lie down with him, Yoru-san? I don’t mind” Jades voice cut through her dreamy haze, jolting her upright.

“What? No. Huh?” She stuttered, horrified that Jade had somehow known the comfort she felt in that moment. “I’ve gotta go, I must have fallen asleep. Bye Jade” She hurried to leave, bumping into Floyd's desk in her haste. The precariously stacked books toppled over and fell to the floor, making an awful racket in the near silent bedroom.

“Oh shit, sorry!’ She whispered in a panic, hoping she hadn’t woken Floyd. She scooped to pick the books up, her wings threatening to topple the chair she had been sitting in just moments ago. Jade laughed as he watched her struggle.

“Fufufu, Yoru-san. You seem quite flustered, did something I say upset you? Perhaps my suggestion to sleep with Floyd-”

“No!” She yammered quickly. Too quickly. “No, I’m just tired. I have to go!” She pushed the books back onto the desk haphazardly and turned to leave, hoping that Jade hadn’t caught sight of her face, red as it was sure to be. How could he have known what she was thinking?

“Hmmpppfff” Floyd whined, wrapping his arms around her waist, his face buried in feathers. “You’re too loud, Fugu-chan, be more quiet”

Jade smirked at the pair of them as Yoru struggled to free herself from his grasp. Floyd whined into her back, dragging her into his bed so he could go back to sleep.

“Yoru-san, it’s better if you don’t fight him, he can be quite insistent when he wants something” She knew he was right. To get free she’d have to peel him off of her, and with how tightly he held her it would be hard, Floyd really was too damn strong. She sighed and stopped resisting, feeling her feet leave the floor as he flipped her over him to settle her between his body and the wall.

He murmured wordlessly as he shifted around her wings, careful not to pull out any feathers accidentally. He settled between them, his head resting slightly above hers, his face nestled in her hair, body pressed tightly against hers. She was glad Jade couldn’t see her anymore, she could feel him watching them still, but with their faces turned away from him he wouldn’t be able to read her expression. She felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest, she was sure Floyd must have felt it too, though if he did he made no mention of it. This wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she had come over, all she had wanted was to chat a bit, to forget about the people on magicam trying to ruin her night. She had to admit though… This was nice too. Ever since spring break they’d been more comfortable with each other physically, Floyd often clinging to her whenever he slept over, but so far that hadn’t left the confines of her bedroom. No one ever saw how often she clung back, she’d made sure to disengage from his grasp before he woke whenever she found herself too near him. It was much too embarrassing to be found like this, her face burning again knowing that Jade was probably enjoying himself immensely, proven right yet again.

The lamp clicked off, Jade finally retiring, Yoru felt herself finally relaxing. Her body jolted as tension left her, and she laid her arms across Floyd's, drawing lazy circles on the backs of his hands with her fingers. He sighed into her hair and pressed himself against her a little tighter at her touch, fast asleep once more. Yoru closed her eyes knowing it wasn’t safe to fall asleep where she lay, she had to get up and go home or she’d never hear the end of it. 5 more minutes then you have to go home she told herself, but it really was very comfortable, laying with Floyd like this.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Euuuggggghhhh Jaaaaade, turn your alarm offffff” Floyd complained loudly. He was close...too close. Yoru’s eyes snapped open with a start, she’d fallen asleep in his arms.

“Ahhh, I must have forgotten to turn it off. My apologies, you two fufufu”

“Mmmmm~ good morning, Fugu-chan” Floyd murmured as he tightened himself around her once more. She felt him smile as he nuzzled his face into the nape of her neck, her face blazed red once more.