#all those damn stones took me way too long to draw

[thequeenofthewinter]

[liveontelevision]

MY FAVE POOKIE.... BY ANY CHANCE CAN.. CAN YOU WRITE FOR A VAMPIRE LUCI?? <3 I FEEL LIKE YOU'D CAPTURE HIM PERFECTLY

YOU'RE ONTO SOMETHING HERE BBG

(You're drawing of vamp Luci is literal eye candy and I'M IN A SUGAR COMAAA) I got way into the lore here I literally did nothing but write and edit this today - THAT BEING SAID this may need a 2nd part but lmk what y'all think

CW: He's a vamp, so.. blood in suggestive situations obvi

♡♡♡

Bite Me | Vamp Lucifer x Reader

"Isn't it just amazing?" You hold a book, opened to a certain illustration, far too close to your friend's eyes. They push the book back a bit just to get a peak, considering their nose was essentially in the pages. The paper reeked of dust and mildew. They subsided a sound of disgust to inspect the illustration you were so eager to show off.

"Oh! This is that weird mansion on the other side of town, but.. it looks..." 

"Stunning? This was what it looked like when it was first built and look-" You excitedly point out a certain tower, it was so thin and far back, that not even the pencil of the original artist could capture its true detail.

"Wait,�� that's not there anymore, is it? Weird." Your friend shrugged it off, clearly not as invested as you. You scoff, pulling the book to your chest.

"Well.. not in the daytime, at least." You muttered. This was your hometown's rumor that's been spread for centuries. On the highest hill, past the overcrowded forest, sits the darkest and most foreboding manor anyone has seen. Even the oldest living relatives of those who have seen it, never recall what it looked like in its glory days. No one's quite sure when it was first built. It's as if it had always been there.

No one would really talk, only the seniors and the more.. eccentric.. People would even mention it. A tower that exceeded the height of the full moon, which was the only time it was visible to the naked eye. You've seen it yourself. But you were too inspired, too invested, to be satisfied with a little rumor and a single sighting.

You did your research. You scowered the forest, only to get lost for hours. You managed to find the manor, but in its close proximity, there was no sign of that tower. You found a book, shoved away under some shelf in your public library, depicting poorly written journal entries and illustrations. From what you could decipher, it was older than the town.. it must belong to its original tenants.

The handwriting was almost entirely illegible, which was disappointing, but the pictures inside.. they were crafted beautifully. Scenic drawings of the forest, animals, and a few of a stunning woman were scattered throughout. Every historian you tried to contact left your messages unopened. Any townspeople you'd show the pictures to, to see if they’d recognize the woman at least, looked at you like you were crazy.

Well.. crazy or not, there's only one real way to settle this.

You mark your calendar, circling every full moon for the rest of the year. And it nearly took that long to finally spot the tower, again. After all this time, restless nights where you'd fall asleep with the book in hand, strained sessions of trying to decipher the wording, yet it all got you nowhere. You'd lost friends because of this. You've skipped dates. All because of this damned tower. 

But finally, here it is! Ready to throw yourself from your bedroom window, you take the bag that had been packed for months in case of this very instant, but decide it best to leave through the front door.

You had memorized the path to the manor at this point. What could possibly be drawing you in so deeply? What history could this place possibly hold? Who was the woman drawn in this book.. and who was the artist? You stood in awe, finally seeing the tower up close. The manor itself seemed to be made of an entirely different stone. You jot down your notes and the differences you're seeing in a small book.

You nearly squeal at the sound of the creaking double doors, as you step inside. It wasn't your first time here, you reach into your bag to obtain the little map you had drawn out a few weeks back. Were you going insane? Who's to say? You traced your finger across a path you had drawn, then with determination, went towards the corridor that should lead you to whatever you were looking for.

You stopped and took pictures on occasion, observing things you have seen countless times over the past few months. It still managed to take your breath away. You turned around, stepping backward, to observe the intricate detailing of the high ceilings, letting out little ooh's and aah's you'd assume no one would hear. But you couldn't be sure.

You nearly stumble, turning to face the corridor head-on. A crumbling noise had sent a shock of fear and curiosity into your heart. Was this place ready to cave in? Did something else cause the destruction?

As you continue on, you decide it best to place headphones over your ears. With one ear still slightly free, you do your best to distract your fears and keep exploring. As you hum along, occasionally breaking out into song, your eyes are drawn to a small doorway that definitely was not there during your previous visits. It's made of a different wood than the other doors. It looks.. newer. The handle seems used as If the oils of a hand had worn down its clean coating. This has to be it. Your hand is shaking as you reach for the door, and your heart drops for a moment. It’s warm underneath your touch. With a final breath, you open the door.

It’s.. not exactly what you were expecting. The door led to an impossibly long spiral staircase, you weren't sure if you could make it to the top before daylight. It's too late to go back now, though. You dredge on. As you start your climb, the music from your headset turns to static. And what you expected to be a mile-long staircase ended in mere seconds. Confused by the distortion of the building, you pull out your little journal to document your new discovery as you continue on. 

The steps lead into the tower, you were sure of it. The bricks of the walls and the wood of the doors, it was all different than the manor below. It opened into a short hallway, with a few doors on either side. Opposite to you was a window. It wasn’t shattered or cracked, or even dusty. You press your hands against it and lean forward to see the view of your town. In a stereotypical, I can see my house from here! moment, you pull out your phone to take yet another picture, but.. it's dead. After being fully charged before your arrival. Of course. It's a magical tower that only appears on a full moon and has disappearing staircases, you weren't too shocked by sorcery after what you've exposed yourself to.

As you take in the terrifying height of the structure from the window, something happens that officially startles you for the first time tonight. You hear a gruesome cackling from behind a nearby doorway.

You quickly find its source, pressing your ear to the wooden door. You couldn't make out any specific words, but there was a voice. It was a man's voice. He seemed to laughing, then groaning and complaining about something, then talking some more.. quite a blabbermouth for someone who seems to be alone, you don't hear any other voices.

You have a weapon in your bag. It's nothing fancy, just a little switchblade, but you assumed it'd be enough to ward off at least a single person. Just in case. You decide to go in.

"Oh, who am I kidding, this sucks!" An exacerbated groan, and the sound of something crashing, can be heard as you crack the door open a bit. You peek inside.

A pacing man is surrounded by trinkets, books and tools in some kind of workshop. He looks human.. almost. You notice his skin is nearly paper white. It has a beautiful glow to it, that contrasts against his mostly black wardrobe. You clock his clothes as almost Victorian, a puffed blouse that cinches in at his waist with the assistance of a red-laced vest. His heels seem a bit tall for the time period, but even then, he's actually rather.. short. Despite that, his hair was slicked back but seemed to be coming undone. You watch him pace around for a while longer, finally capturing his arms running through his hair. They're tapered black, as if his hands were dipped in soot. How odd. You want a picture. You want to talk to him, to ask him questions.

You're too engrossed in the view you were spying on to notice he had stopped his jabbering and was now frozen in place at the sight of you. An awkward amount of time passes before either of you make a decision on what to do next.

You decide it best to just forget about this random encounter. This was obviously just another dream. It wasn't, but this wouldn't even be the strangest one you've had. You finally break eye contact, pulling the door shut behind you.

You lean your entire body against it, desperate to keep him contained until you can get your thoughts straightened out. Maybe he's nice! Maybe he's not an insane, inhuman, tinkerer who talks to himself. Before you can think a moment longer, the door opens and thoroughly knocks you to the floor. You scuff your knees and palms against the stone floor, hissing at the wounds before turning on your back to face your attacker.

Okay, it wasn't an attack, exactly. He just opened the door you were standing in front of. You were a little shocked, considering you were putting your full weight on it and he swung it open like nothing was there at all.

your widened eyes were met with his yet again. They seemed different than before. His irises were suddenly glowing a crimson red, staring down at you with a look of disgust. Your heart rate quickens as you finally catch more of his features. The glow of his eyes and the moonlight from the window show off a set of demonic horns, twisting and turning from his temples, and pointed ears. Then finally, you spot his frown- then his fangs.

You slowly crawl backward, making as much distance as you can before your back hits the cold stone of the wall. Your breathing rapidly as he kneels down, continuing to observe your tense body language from such a close distance.

"What is this- how did you get in? I made a whole fancy labyrinth for you little humans and you still manage to pester me." He seems curious now, still annoyed by the interruption, but curious. He catches the sight of your blade, taking it from underneath your hand.

"And you thought this could kill me?" He scoffs, tossing it to the side. "I thought the ones smart enough to get in would put more effort into their weapon of choice." He finally stands, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at you. His piercing red irises had you staring for an inappropriately long time. He looks around, then behind him, in disbelief that you'd be this lost in his eyes. He clears his throat to get your attention.

"N-no! I don't want to kill you, I swear! I just.. I wanted to..." Why were you here again? To find what's inside the haunted tower? To explore a rumor and find the truth? You'd hate to consider it.. but could you have been wasting all this time after finally being faced with the anticlimactic answer? Your silence doesn't seem to amuse the stranger.

"What, you just stumbled upon my hidden tower? That doesn't sound right. Well, I'll tell you now, I'm not some genie or wizard- I won't grant you wishes or anything stupid like that." He starts to head back to his office. "I have nothing to offer you, so just pretend this is a nightmare or something and go home." You see a little flame puff from his lips as he speaks, clearly irritated by your presence. 

"Wait- wait! I forgot!" You stumble to your feet, wincing at the pain in your scraped knees, but still going on to fumble through your bag. You find your tattered book. The relic that started this all.

"Is this yours?" He takes the book from your hand, skimming through the pages then glaring back up to meet your eyes. 

"Did you steal this?" You shake your head with haste, watching him continue to examine the book. "Then.. yes. This is mine. I'm surprised it's still in one piece." He stops at one of the drawings of the woman. He brushes his hand across the illustration with a dreamy sigh.

"She's beautiful." Your voice breaks his concentration and you see his pale skin turn ever so slightly pink. 

"She is, isn't she?" With a warm smile, you almost forget his threatening nature.

"Who was she?" He looks away from you, letting the book shut.

"It's not important. You need to leave." He leads you to the door. You try to keep up with his strides, only to fumble, your knees weak and bruised from the previous fall. He spots the bleeding scuffs and groans.

"Good lord, you humans are so fragile." You hear him grumble before he's turned on his heels and is dragging you back towards that workshop you intruded on. He grabs you by your arms and guides you to sit down at a little table he had set up. You examined the room after he had walked away. You saw his workbench. It held numerous little springs and gears, paints, and brushes. Looking to the side, you see a shattered figurine, probably what he had thrown during his little tantrum you spied on.

Seeing him standing above you stops your wandering eyes. He kneels down, already wrapping your wounded knees in gauze. You watched him silently. You were surprised at how comfortable the space seemed, considering a man with a demonic presence was currently tending to you like a nurse.

"So.. what are you exactly?" You finally blurted out. You had so many questions, but this was a good place to start.

"Oh. Um.. I think I hear humans referring to me as a vampire." Your blood runs cold and you squeeze the edge of your seat on either side. You feel his hand tremor for a moment, letting his eyes linger on your legs before finishing up one knee with a neat tie. He moves on to the next.

"So you're immortal and drink blood and all that?" He scoffs at your questioning shaking his head. You sound like a curious child.

"That’s.. Mostly correct. Actually, your human literature seemed to accurately portray a lot of my abilities. I'm almost impressed."

"Should I be scared?" You ask with an almost teasing tone, as if that weren't possible.

"Why? Do you think I'm scary?" He looks up for a moment, meeting your eyes. Its subtle, but you see them glowing just slightly. And it almost makes you nervous. Enraptured in an emotion you have to assume is fear, you watch his hands trail around and calf to bring your leg a bit closer. He sticks out his tongue. It's similar to a serpents’. Your eyes follow his tongue to your knee, where he licks the entirety of the wound.

In a state of shock, all you do is tense in your seat, wincing from his action. His tongue reels back, stained with the blood from your own wound. He lets out a breathy hum, before realizing his place.

"E-excuse me, I uh.. have healing properties..?" You cock your head to the side, the confusion in your mind quickly replaced with curiosity.

"Woah, really?" He finishes off your other knee.

".. No. Okay, all patched up. You have to leave." He said hurriedly before the realization could set in. He was embarrassed by his actions sure, but the sunrise softly lighting the room seemed to make him anxious.

"Wait- no! I have so many questions! Why do I have to go? How does this place just vanish in the daytime? Why are you here all alone?" You start to ramble as he manages to move you with ease. "A-at least tell me your name!" You say quickly, breaking from his grasp just before he can shove you out the door. He stops and lets out a sigh.

"Fine. Here." He reaches into his shirt and pulls out a small golden crystal attached to a necklace. Forcing your eyes down to his dipped neckline made you a bit red in the cheeks. With a quick motion, he swings it over your neck.

"This is an Asmodean crystal. You'll be able to see and enter my tower on any night now. You.. you're welcome to return when you see fit." You stare at the small gem in amazement.

"And.. you're just trusting me with this?"

He shrugs, smiling at you for the first time tonight. "You haven't given me a reason not to. You're definitely not a threat." You hum in response, despite his obvious condescending nature. giving the gem one last examination, you tuck it away into your own shirt.

".. And it's Lucifer."

You can't help but grin. “Okay! Time to go! The sun’s almost up!” He rushes you.

"Hm! I'll be back, then, I promise! I'll see you, Lucifer!" You excitedly wave and head back down the stairs. Lucifer.. Your mind was running with possibilities as you left. You turned to the door before leaving, but by the time you looked back, it was simply.. bricked over. You felt almost disappointed. But feeling for the necklace and twirling it between your fingers reminds you that this was all real. He's real.

Lucifer said you could visit. And so you did. While you passed out almost immediately once you returned home, you waited eagerly for the sun to set the next night. You check your window, again. With the crystal squeezed tightly in your fist, you see the familiar tower yet again, despite the full moon being nowhere in sight.

Unfortunately, you are human. You do have a life to live. It took you a few days before you could visit, again, but eventually you did. And it was perfect. Looking down upon in your hometown, it was refreshing to have a new friend. You told him about your own life, giving him some brief history lessons on things he might not know, and bringing him the stereotypical vampire merchandise from current media. He deemed it offensive.

You got him to talk about his past after some pushing. He was one of many brothers, all of them were bloodsuckers of their own accord.

"Wow.. so you came from a whole family of vampires? I mean.. if you don't mind me asking, why aren't you there? What brings you to my glamorous little town?" You say your last question with an eye roll. You were seated at a little bench, a comfortable nook that was set at the window in his workshop, as you watched him working on some sort of mechanical toy. You notice a slight frown tugging at his lips in response to your question.

"Hm. My brothers aren't exactly a fan of me. And you speak sarcastically, but it is actually quite nice here. The air is clearer, and there's much less fire." You look out the window as he's talking.

"Wait.. less fire than where?" He slipped up. You've noticed over these past few visits that he's not too keen on disclosing certain parts of his past. You see him stop what he's doing and curse under his breath.

"I.. I'm from a different realm, of sorts. It's dingy and dark and everyone there cares for nothing but bloodlust." He explains carefully.

"Damn, that sounds like Hell." You pull your knees to your chest, just attempting to sympathize with him by your words.

"You have no idea." He chuckles in response, seeming disarmed enough to continue his tinkering.

"Do you ever go back there? You have to see your family sometimes, right?" He's groaning quietly at your questions.

"Well, yes and no. I'm always here in my tower. And I put a lot of work into making it my own. I'd keep it here forever if I could, but it takes quite a bit of energy from me to keep it in good shape in this realm, so when the sun is out-"

"You return to your own realm! Wow.." you wished you had your book on you to write all this down. But it seemed unnecessary to bring a survival kit here. You felt so safe. 

"How about that lady? In your book? Is she someone from that realm? A family member, maybe?" You bombard him with questions yet again. You do that a lot. He looked over at you with an unenthused glare. You laugh nervously and wave your hands. "N-Nevermind, sorry."

He's made it clear that he doesn't appreciate all these questions. But when he does open up, you can't help but appreciate his fantastical stories.

Looking for a change in topic, you approach his bench, looking over whatever he was working on. With one final screw being turned in, he looks up to you and shows you the small trinket silently. You take it, a bit nervous of its delicacy, and examine it.

"It's fine, it won't break." He rolls his eyes at your nerves. "Like this." He places a hand below yours to steady your grasp and lifts the top of the little round structure to reveal a little sculpted scene. It’s of a pond, with some fish and ducks visible on the pond. It looked so real, despite its size. He smirks at your enthralled expression, reaching for a small key on the back and turning it. It releases a gentle tune, the ducks suddenly spinning and dancing across the pond.

"A music box..?" You question. You look towards him and notice his reaction. He looks almost nervous like he was expecting some harsh critique.

"It's beautiful, Lucifer! Did you use magic or something? This is so cool!" Your outburst leaves him slightly surprised, and just a bit blushed.

"Y-Yes, it is pretty, isn't it?" He says softly, looking away with a smile. By the time he's looking back to you, still enjoying the little trinket, the sun is just peaking from the hills. He should rush to get you out of there. Humans don't belong in his realm, definitely not this one.. but he doesn't want this to end. He wants to show you more, while he listens to you rant about something useless. He shakes his head to reality. He can't have these feelings. Not again.

"It's morning. I'm afraid you have to go, dear." You look just as disappointed as he does, but follow him to the exit either way.

"Wait, here-" You hold the intricate music box back out to him, but he closes his hands around yours, encasing it in your grasp.

"Keep it." His hands are cold. You notice that his skin is always cold, no matter the weather. You wonder if he thinks about the warmth of your hands just as much. Your hands are held together for a bit too long, but the sight of your face in the golden light of the sunrise has him frozen in place.

"What happens if I stay?" Your hasty question snaps him away, quickly tucking his hands behind his back.

"Absolutely not." He says sternly, reaching around and opening his door. "Sorry.. I just.. It’s not safe. You’ll be back though, right?." He smiles, and it always disarms you. Briefly disappointed, you nod and give him a quick wave. You head back to your regular vampire-free life for the time being.

You find yourself back in his workshop, a few months later. The visits were becoming more frequent and neither of you seemed to complain about it.

Since then, the room has been decorated with pillows or blankets you've brought. On occasion, you'd go to see him just to sleep uncomfortably on the small cushioned nook near the window. He never seemed to mind. He'd wake you up carefully before the sun rose.

Other times, you'd bring him tools or gifts from your hometown that he might like, and occasionally you'd get him to eat actual food.

One night you set out one of your blankets on the ground and forced him to sit with you, after seeing him get flustered with whatever he was working on.

"Can you actually eat? Does it do anything for you?" He shrugs in response to your question, popping a little chocolate confection into his mouth.

"Not really. It's more for enjoyment than anything. And these are definitely enjoyable." As he hums at the sweets, he moves to lie down across the blanket, resting his head in your lap. "Where are they from?"

You look down at the little heart-shaped box you've both been taking the treats from and cringe.

"A.. uh.. person. It was a gift. Someone tried to take me out for Valentine's Day, but I wasn't interested." You say quietly.

"Right.. it’s Valentine’s Day… Well, what was wrong with them? Were they rude to you? Ugly?" He asks between bites. You laugh and take a chocolate for yourself.

"No, nothing like that.. they just..." They weren't you. "N-not my type is all." You stammer, quickly shoving the chocolate into your mouth. What are you thinking? He's laughing at you now.

"So you'd rather spend your Valentine's Day with an old crone?" He was joking, but he was right.

"Yeah.. I think I would, actually. I love visiting you." You said calmly, trying your best to keep the compliments.. platonic. Peeking down at him for a second, you notice his tense posture and pink cheeks.

"I-I just- it's not that big a deal, I mean, I've never really celebrated Valentine's Day anyway, so.." You start to fidget with your crystal necklace, picking at the thread and running your thumb along its smooth surface.

"Well..! Then... I'm glad you're enjoying my company, I suppose." He tries to de-escalate the brief tension. You change the subject matter.

"Well, if we're getting on my social life, then I have a question." You finally say. He seems nervous for a moment but is playing it cool to the best of his ability.

"Shoot."

"So, you stay in your tower all day, don't see your family, I don't even hear you talk about that woman from your drawings.. Have you just been alone this whole time?"

He freezes for a moment, before putting a chocolate back into the box and clearing his throat.

"No.. not the whole time." He sighs, standing and going to fetch something. He returns to sit across from you and you’re a little disappointed he didn’t return his head to rest in your lap. It was a journal, it had a similar binding to the one you had found over a year ago.

"Her name is Lillith." He starts, flipping the pages and stopping at one of her drawings. "She's from my realm, and.. we fell in love." For some reason, your heart ached at his words. "I decided to show her this place many years ago, and she wanted to see a nearby village, so.. we went down there together. It was disgusting. People were treating each other so foul, it was loud and dirty, and there was no sign of intelligence." His voice goes dark for a moment, allowing you to flip through the book. "But Lillith loved them. She saw their potential and.. wanted to stay with them. So we made a deal. She'd explore the village when the full moon was out and then return to me the rest of the time."

You look up from the book, seeing that her drawings had stopped about halfway through. The rest of the book was empty.

"So is she.." you mutter, letting the book drop to see his pained expression.

"I haven't seen her in years. Might be decades at this point, but.. it's hard to keep track. I have no idea where she could be, but if she ever returns then-"

"You're waiting for her?" You interrupt, your voice has a hint of irritation to it.

"Hm. I guess I am. I've given up trying to find her, but I still keep this place standing. Just in case." His face reads dejected as he speaks.

"Do you still love her?" You ask. Of course, he does. He's a romantic, waiting for his long-lost love to return. But he looks at you, with a worried expression. Like he wanted to reassure you that wasn't the case.

"I..I do." He says softly. You feel your chest aching still, and you clench the blanket in your fists on either side of you. "I think so? I-I'm not sure." He groans, running his hands through his hair. "Is that terrible of me?" 

You think for a moment. You have to tread lightly. If he truly loves her, it might be best for you to keep your distance to avoid any.. confusion. You let out a defeated sigh, placing your hand on his shoulder to bring his panicked attention back to you.

"Not at all. It's.. nice. That you can love someone that much, especially after all this time." He smiles in return, placing a hand over top of yours.

"How long has it been, do you think?"

"Hmm.. From what I remember.. when were hot air balloons invented?" He genuinely questioned.

"Good lord."

(The answer is over 300 years ago)

You stopped visiting him for a while. After that night, you needed to step away and consider what you were really doing. He's not just an immortal vampire, he's an immortal vampire still holding out hope for a woman he hasn't seen in centuries. And you're just a human. That kind of relationship only works in movies. The sleep schedule you've created has nearly destroyed your social life and you barely have energy in the daytime anymore. Maybe it was for the best to keep your distance. But you have to tell him that. You can't just disappear, he doesn't deserve to feel that pain, again.

You enter his tower as usual, bringing an empty bag to escort some of your belongings back home. To your apartment, your awful tiny apartment. You avoid comparing it to the elegant manor, it's only making you want to back out. You go through the hall, swinging his workshop door open.

"Luciferrr! Sorry to be away for so long, but I think we should talk." You look around to realize you are speaking to an empty room. You look back to the hall. You've never been through any of the other rooms, but he had to be somewhere. And he wasn't responding to your calls.

You open each door carefully, seeing mostly empty storage and cobwebs. One of the rooms was filled to the brim with clothing from all decades. You make a mental note to tease him for playing dress up, later.

You knock at each door, finally opening one that greets you with the warmth of a bedroom. And by warmth, you mean it. You take any coat you were wearing off, finally spotting Lucifer lying in the elegant bed in the center of the room.

"Huh.. I thought you said vampires don't need sleep." You call out, letting your eyes scan the room as you approach the bedside. He's curled up and unresponsive. His sudden panting briefly eased your nerves, at least he’s breathing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to just barge in, but.. Lucifer? Are you okay?" You reach out and place your hand to his shoulder. He's hot to the touch. You move his body so that he's lying on his back, and he seems even more distressed.

"L-Lucifer..? Lucifer!" You try to speak quietly, but his actions are making you nervous. He finally shoots upward, gripping his bare chest in an attempt to calm his rapid breathing. He does a double take, not believing that you were at his side. Not to mention your scared expression, which is only causing him more concern.

"I-I'm alright! I'm okay.." He lets out a sigh, brushing his hair back. He scans the room, peering out the window. "Ah, nighttime already? I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to worry you." He turns back to you, seeing your still-shaken expression. "I slept in! It's okay!" He reassures, patting the side of his bed. You hesitate, but sit down either way.

"I thought.. You didn’t need sleep." You say softly, looking to calm yourself.

"I don't, but it is relaxing sometimes."

"That didn't look relaxing at all."

"Well.. I did say only sometimes." You let out a quiet chuckle and it brings a smile to his face.

"I rest when I'm feeling a bit weak, usually a quick nap helps. But.. sometimes I get nightmares and they're-" You interrupt him.

"Weak? Why are you feeling weak? Did something happen?" You lean in, still feeling uneasy.

"... Just a bit. Don't get me wrong, I am quite powerful-” He loves to gloat about his abilities, your usual reactions of amazement never got old. “-but.. this tower takes its toll on me sometimes. It takes a lot of energy to set up illusions and tricks to keep humans out. I just needed a quick pick me up, that's all." That seemed to calm you a bit, but it did bring up another concern.

"Lucifer.. why do you keep coming back here? Is it worth the trouble? Is.. she worth the trouble?" You ask timidly. His eyes are soft, looking in your direction. It turns you a bit red, you hope you can blame it on the heat of the room if he asks.

"I don’t know.. I’ve been thinking. I-If Lillith has any plans on returning, I'd think she would've done so by now." You feel hopeful, but you attempt to not let it show. "But, I've been here for centuries and I've grown rather fond of... the atmosphere." He tries to reason. He pulls your chin forward, greeting you with a sweet smile. "I'm alright, I promise."

You can't help but return the smile, but you miss his touch once he pulls away. At this point, you're finally taking in his appearance. He's covered in sweat, the bags under his eyes are tremendous and his lips are trembling a bit to keep up a smile.

"Are you sure? You still seem.." You reach your hand out, as if you were about to touch his face, but you see him reel back.

"Clearly, I didn't get a good night's rest.. maybe you should head home, dear, I'm not much fun to be around when I'm like this.." He sulks, making it a point to avoid looking at you. With just the sight of you, he might as you to stay.

"No!" His wide-eyed expression shows that you've clearly just embarrassed yourself. "No, I mean- I don't want to leave. Can I help? Can you.. drink my blood or something? Would that do anything?" He's immediately blushing at your suggestion, right to the tips of his ears. He quickly declines.

"No. Nonono.. That is not happening." He crosses his arms over his still bare chest, which neither of you has mentioned yet. That’s not to say you haven't been staring.

"Would it help?" You ask. He sighs and nods. "Would it kill me?" He shakes his head. "Not if I'm careful.."

"Will it turn me into a vampire or something?" He shakes his head, again.

"Then do it. I want to help you! It's the least I can do since you’ve been so sweet to me." You say sternly, beginning to move the strap of your shirt, revealing a bare shoulder.

"Woah woah, okay. Fine.. I’ll just take a little. Since you're so insistent." He moves your strap back up your shoulder carefully. "And there's no need for that, dear, don't get too excited." He teases. He looks like he’s on the brink of death, yet he still manages to make fun of you.

"I-I'm not excited! Shut up.." you stammer, as you feel him pull your hand towards him, keeping a grip just below your wrist.

"Whatever you say." His smirk has you blushing, again." you ready?" You nod your head, attempting to keep a straight face despite the reality of the situation.

He leans forward to face you, and you move closer to be more comfortable. With his clawed hands still holding your arm delicately, he brings your palm to his lips. You feel his hot breath against your skin and instinctively flex your hand. He stops abruptly and looks at you.

"I-I'm fine, just do it already!" He rolls his eyes and positions his fangs right at the pulse point on your wrist. With a deep breath from both of you, he sinks his teeth into your flesh. The skin is thin there, so it wasn't as painful as you thought it would be.

It's awkward for a moment, you don't feel any different at first. But looking towards Lucifer, you see his eyes turning that glowing crimson red that had startled you when you first met. Sure, it still startled you now, but it was Lucifer. He's not as scary as he looks, you tell yourself. You feel a breath of hot air from his nostrils, realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time. His eyes fluttered shut, and that's when you felt it.

It felt like getting your blood drawn, but his fangs were less painful than the needles somehow. You'd only notice your hand start to fall asleep after a while. But his expression stopped you from saying anything. His heavy breaths against your skin, as he occasionally pulled away to lick the wound clean, only to sink his teeth back in the same spot. You placed your free hand over your mouth to prevent any noises from escaping your lips. He pulled off for a moment, then sunk his teeth in another spot, feverishly placing multiple bite marks across the entirety of your wrist. You attempt to speak up through your hand.

"L-Lucifer.. I-I'm..!" He stops almost immediately, sitting up straight and blinking his eyes back to their usual hue. He looks down to your wrist, a mess of bite marks, all still leaking your crimson blood. Your hand had fallen slack.

"Sorry! Sorry-" He runs his tongue across the wounds, it seemed to stop the blood for now. "How do you feel?" Your eyes are dazed a bit, and when you go to prop yourself up on your previously ravished wrist you fall forward. He catches you by your arms, before you can fall away from the bed. You shake your head, finally looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

"I'm okay.." you say weakly. He's nervously trying to keep your head up, and brushing hair away from your face. He moves to the other side of the bed, and brings you along to lie down beside him. He sits on his knees to examine you, keeping a hand cupping your cheek. It's cool to the touch again, a relief for you. You shakily place your hand on top of his, then look towards him. "You look amazing, Lucifer~" You say with a dizzy smile. Despite the wording, you were right. His skin had brightened up, and he instantly lost the bags from his eyes.

"I might've done too much.." He mumbled, tracing his free hand across your wrist. "You're starting to sound crazy."

"No..! I mean it, you're just.. beautiful.. quite a sight." You're delirious. He starts to worry, suppressing his excitement for the oncoming compliments. He'll have to let you rest, no matter how disappointed that made him. He'd missed your company these past few days.

"Whatever you say, darling. Go ahead and rest, I'll get you some water." And he does just that.

You had left some water bottles and snacks here a few months ago, so he hastily took those and brought them back to you. He set everything on the nightstand and went over to open the glass doors to the balcony of his room, bringing in a fresh night breeze. He put an actual shirt on, finally, on the way to look over you from the side of the bed. 

You were just sitting up, leaning against the headboard as you took a very needed gulp of water.

"So? How did I taste?" You tease, stretching your hand now that you’re regaining feeling.

"Delicious." He sounds flirtatious but almost serious. It has you blushing.

Lucifer had gone off to work on something after you insisted you'd be fine and just needed a few more minutes of rest. That didn't go how you expected. You came here to set some boundaries and here you are in his bed, covered in bite marks. The implications alone made you groan from embarrassment.  And slightly in disbelief. You huff and attempt to stand, it’s not too bad, then move to the balcony and lean against the railing. The breeze ran through your hair and across your heated face, you let out a sigh of relief.

"Feeling better, dear?" His voice has you turning your head a bit, and you greet him with a smile. You nod your head before returning your eyes to the town below.

“I’m glad. Thank you, for.. Letting me do that.” He says, sounding a bit shy. He joins you, leaning against the railing by your side. You both stand in silence for a moment.

"I think I'm in love with you, Lucifer." Maybe it was the blood loss or the sheer exhaustion, but something just forced those words from you. You keep your eyes away from him. If this could be the last time you see him, bringing this dream to an end, then you might as well let it out.

"O-Oh..! Hm! Well, that's uh.." He hoots, and you see his hands flexing against the railing. He can't even form a real response.

"It's stupid, I know. I'm a human, and you're this crazy immortal being. Plus, you just drank my blood. Maybe I'm still delirious.." You continue to toy with your gifted necklace, still keeping your eyes low. You don't know how you would react if you could see his expression right now.

"So.. you would... you want to be with me?" That's what he asks? That's his response?

"I-I mean.. yeah. You're my best friend, you're handsome and smart, and you're inventive and... I just love being around you. I want to.. I want to make you happy, but I just don't know if that's something I can do." Your gaze is finally brought to his when his claws gently guide your chin towards him. His expression is that of pure infatuation. You'd never expect to see him look like this, not when looking at you.

"You make me plenty happy, darling." Your eyes go wide.

"You're bright and fun, and you're adorably curious- I just worry as well. I'll outlive you. I've been locked up here for so long, I don't know how much I can offer you.. but it's definitely less than you deserve." His words send a pain to your chest. You both know, based on fact alone, it just wouldn't work.

"I only want you to be happy as well, love." His words force a nervous sigh from you. This seems like a night for bold decisions, so you decide to make another. You turn to face him, bring him in by his collar, and press your lips against his in one fell swoop. Giving him no time to comprehend the situation, he lets out a muffled exclamation into your lips. It felt like hours before you feel his hands on your waist, and his lips desperately ravishing yours. He pulls you closer to him, his hands now reaching your hips and gripping you tighter. You pull his lower lip down with your thumb, keeping a hand on his jaw as you do so, and begin to explore his mouth with your tongue feverishly. A small yelp at the boldness comes from Lucifer before his forked tongue is dancing with yours. You can still taste your own blood on his lips.

He turns the both of you, having your back pressed against the railing of the balcony, giving him the chance to corner you into being as close as possible. He leans his chest into yours, moving in even more. You're leaning over the railing just slightly, but one of his hands is firmly planted against your back, giving you a sense of security. The other is still gripping at your hips, occasionally slipping upwards to brush the bare skin beneath your top, his cool touch acting as a reminder that this is really happening. He props his knee between your legs, having to force them apart gently to do so.

You pull away with a deep exhale after realizing you've been anxiously holding your breath this whole time. Even leaning away from him, your mind was running rapidly with thoughts of his body. You trace your thumb over his lips, parting them just slightly to examine his fangs. He's turning red with the close inspection.

"W-What are you doing..?" You understand what he's trying to say, but his words are still muffled by your hold on him. He sees your eyes ponder for a moment before you look back to him.

"Bite me." You say sternly. Your hand slips away from his mouth and you start speckling small kisses across his forehead and cheeks, lifting his head slightly with a kiss to his jaw.

"Excuse me?? You want-" You hush his stammering by pulling back, to look into his eyes one more time.

"I want you to bite me.. my neck, I mean." You clearly weren't budging. He still seems hesitant but proceeds to move any hair away from your shoulder

"What, does someone enjoy being bitten?” He asks in a teasing tone, looking at you with a smirk. With a deadpan expression, your eyes brimming with lust, you take a hold of his collar again and pull him into a messy kiss. When you pull back, you see a dazed Lucifer, struggling to keep eye contact.

“Yes.”

He huffs, completely enthralled in your enthusiasm, but still seeming nervous. He pulls the strap to your shirt to the side, examining your collarbone and neck. You hear him gulp, as he runs his hand upward until it’s cradling the back of your head.

“I tend to lose myself a little. You saw what happened before, are you sure-"

"I'm sure. I'll tell you if you have to stop." Still very adamant about it, Lucifer pulls your head to one side as you keep your grip on his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists with anticipation.

He places a small kiss first, the action causing you to flinch slightly. You feel him smile on your neck, clearly enjoying your reaction. He kisses every inch of you, each one becoming sloppier than the last.

After thoroughly leaving you in a dazed state of affection, he traces his face to the softest part of your neck, just above your collarbone, and quickly snaps through the skin. With a startled yelp, you glide your hand upward until you've taken a tight grip onto his hair. You barely have time to appreciate how soft it is before you feel the sensation of his fangs piercing a different spot of flesh.

He doesn't seem to be taking much blood.. Definitely not as much as before and not as quickly. It's leaving your head slightly fuzzy, making any sensations, any marks he's leaving on your body, blur into an overall bliss. You're thoughtlessly letting out little moans and gasps at each bite, only encouraging him to keep it up. You feel the vibrations of his groaning against your skin as he moves to hold you tightly around your waist. After a few moments, you start to feel a bit woozy, your body completely melting into his touch. You tap his shoulder quickly,

"Ah.. Lucifer-" Just as before, he made sure to clean any wounds that were still dripping with blood, but he went on to embellish each one with a kiss before pulling away. He looks at you with concern, cupping your cheek and bracing the weight of your lulling head. You smile and hum into his palm.

"How are you doing, darling?" He actively inspects your entirety before meeting your eyes again.

"Lovely~" You say with a drunken chuckle. He pulls you in for another kiss, before easily scooping you up.

"Alright, then.. let's get you to bed, you little perv.” You hit his chest to the best of your ability in your weakened state. His laughter is music to your ears. You’re too tired to worry about how this will affect your relationship. Or your physical health for that matter. But for now, nothing has felt more comforting than his arms wrapped around your body, the cold soothing the heated moment, and your dizzy mind.

♡♡♡

!Taglist!

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[this-sapphic-paradise]

A continuation of this ask plus "what if Alicent saw Rhaenyra kiss Mysaria?"

"What troubles you, my queen?"

Alicent heard the voice as she was walking past a door on the long corridor she had been exploring that morning.

"Is it the dowager queen?"

The question made her pause. The accent of the speaker informed Alicent they were not from Westeros, and the feminine, conservative tone but daring words made it clear that whoever that happened to be was a smart woman.

Inching toward the open door, Alicent was careful to stay quiet and out of sight.

"No. Alicent’s presence here is a boon."

Alicent couldn't help the smile that spread on her lips upon hearing Rhaenyra reinforcing the idea that her presence in Dragonstone was welcomed, however, the second she was able to peek into the room, her smile faltered. Rhaenyra and a lean, brunette with olive skin were standing entirely too close for her liking.

"The Gods often like to hide tricks within their gifts."

Alicent clenched her jaw and balled her hands into fists so she would not pick at her nail beds. She knew most people in Dragonstone merely tolerated her presence, but what had she done to this particular woman to make her speak in such a way?

However, to Alicent’s surprise, Rhaenyra actually laughed—the sound airy, feather light, reverberating on the stone walls. It made Alicent’s hear skip a beat.

"Is there any reason why you wish to make me question the validity of her presence here?"

Rhaenyra was smiling and Alicent watched her take a step closer to the other woman. No, no, no. Alicent knew that smirk, she knew that mischievous stare. She had been on the receiving end of them many times in their youth to not know.

"Are my feelings so outrageous?" The woman asked, smiling back at Rhaenyra as she gently took the queen's hand in hers, drawing gentle patterns on the inner side of her wrist.

The moment was so tender, so intimate it brought tears to Alicent’s eyes, and still, she could not move away.

"What would those feelings be?" Rhaenyra asked quietly, gladly allowing the gentle caress of her wrist to continue.

"Hatred of her family..." Mysaria started, taking another step closer to her queen, bowing her head slightly so Rhaenyra would have to lean in to hear her as she said, "Jealousy of your wandering eyes..."

Alicent's breath hitched in her throat as she watched Rhaenyra place her free hand on Mysaria's waist and search her eyes while offering her that thrice-damned lopsided smile that Alicent always found so endearing.

"Do they not wander back to you?" She asked softly.

Mysaria smiled timidly and Alicent wanted to scream. She wanted to claw at her chest to set free the viper that had so clearly slipped under her skin and wrapped itself around her heart; but instead, all Alicent was able to do was clench her fists on her dress as she forced herself to keep on watching.

"I must confess I have grown unused to sharing," Mysaria said, fleetingly brushing her lips against Rhaenyra's. "But as long as they return to me..."

Rhaenyra grinned and, unwilling to endure her lady's teasing any longer, she leaned down and captured Mysaria's lips in what Alicent could only describe as the most loving and tender kiss she had ever witnessed with her own two eyes.

A sob wrecked through Alicent breaking the spell that had kept her in place. With tears streaming down her cheeks and an unbearable pain in her chest, she ran toward her chambers not caring to check if the queen and her concubine had caught sight of her fleeing.

"Did you hear that?" Rhaenyra asked, breaking the kiss in order to look about them.

Still entirely enamored by her queen, Mysaria guided Rhaenyra's chin back to her, saying, "I did not hear a thing, my queen, but there are certain sounds I'd like to hear you make."

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to speak, but all she could do was blink at Mysaria's brazen words.

Laughing and blushing, Rhaenyra shook her head. "We should take this discussion to my chambers, then."

Grinning, Mysaria led the way. "A most astute decision, my queen."

[lulublack90]

Prompt 25 - Crown

@jegulus-microfic October 25, Word count 890

Little Prince had long been a name Sirius had called him. It had started out as an endearment, but as they’d grown apart, the words had turned into a snarl. Sirius called him that instead of using his actual name and every time he did, Regulus glowered, but inside he felt another piece of his heart break off. He’d loved his brother for as long as he could remember. Sirius had been his protector, his only friend, the only person who cared about him, and now, Regulus was nothing to him. 

“What are you doing skulking around here, Little Prince?” The sneered words came from behind him. He didn’t want to turn around, but he knew if he didn’t, Sirius would make him pay for it, just like their mother. Regulus let his face go blank and turned. 

“That is none of your concern,” He drawled as he stared at the scowl aimed at him on Sirius’s face. He was with his usual gaggle of associates. The short one that looked like a flobberworm would scare him. Lupin, tall and aloof but with a certain feel about him that made Regulus want to keep on his good side and, of course, his replacement. James Potter. 

Regulus shifted his gaze from his brother to Potter. The other boy cocked his head, his eyes crinkling behind those ridiculous glasses he wore as a grin spread across his face. Regulus started when James winked cheekily at him.

“You know what, boys?” Sirius said, drawing Regulus’s attention back to him. Regulus didn’t like the way Sirius’s eyes danced with mischief, he tried to take a step back but found the stone wall behind him. He wouldn’t let Sirius see his fear. “Little Princes should all have a crown,” Before Regulus could draw his wand, Sirius had cast his spell. A heavy weight rested on Regulus's head. He raised his hands and felt it. A sharp, pointed crown sat atop his head. He tried to pull it off, but it wouldn’t budge. It was cold, freezing, in fact. 

Sirius and his friends burst out laughing as he tried again to remove it. 

“Twat!” He shouted, as he raised his wand and sent a cutting jinx at Sirius’s face. A small cut appeared across his cheek and Regulus knew he’d gone too far. Smoke poured from the end of his wand, filling the corridor and he made his escape. 

He hid in the back of an empty classroom and tried again and again to get that awful crown off his head. It was made of ice, a joke he’d heard from his housemates and others, Ice Prince. Sirius must have thought it was hilarious. “Damn it!” He cried as his eyes filled with tears. He tried so hard not to be the soft child that had become a burden to Sirius, but here he was blubbing like an infant. 

“Hey, it’s alright. I can get that off,” James Potter materialised out of thin air, making Regulus jump in fright. He banged his head hard on the underside of the desk he was hiding under. “Oops, sorry,” James said apologetically. Regulus flinched as James’s wand pointed at his face, and a jet of warm light shot out of the tip. “There, back to normal,” James said, grinning at him. He held out his hand to Regulus, and Regulus took it without thinking. “You okay?” James asked kindly. Regulus scowled at him and tried to leave the classroom. James’s hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Let me go,” Regulus ordered, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling as he tensed to fight. 

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what we did; we took it too far, and it won’t happen again,” 

“Sirius took it too far like he always does,” Regulus muttered, his eyes fixed on the way James’s hand wrapped easily around his slender wrist.

“Either way, I’m sorry,” James told him before releasing him. Regulus raised his eyes to warm hazel ones and could see why his brother liked being around James more than he ever did Regulus. The other boy was warmth and light. He was summer sun and cosy fireplaces. Regulus was a star in the endless vacuum of frozen space. Who’d want to be around that when they could have James Potter? 

James suddenly moved closer and then Regulus was in a hug. His head involuntarily fell forward against James’s chest and his eyes closed as he breathed in his heady scent. He’d never been held like this, not even by Sirius. Then his brain caught up with his actions and tore him away from James’s warm hug. 

“Get your hands off me,” He spat and hurried to the door. He couldn’t help it, though as he left, he looked over his shoulder and saw James’s face brighten as their eyes locked. What on earth could have made his face open up like that? Regulus pondered on that for the remainder of the day and into the rest of the week until a hand shot out from behind a tapestry as he passed and pulled him behind it. A warm, heady scent of cedar, broom polish and outside hit him before warm, soft lips found his, and he knew. It was him.

[shamefilledsnzblog]

Relief

So, B/aldur's G/ate gave me brain worms, and the only way to relieve them was by tormenting the pretty, bratty vampire.

Female T/av (a tiefling in my head, but insert your own if you like) with the kink , spore allergy, inducing, and a lot of buildups. Enjoy!

For all its dangers, Tav mused, the Underdark was beautiful. A strange, unnerving, decidedly fungal sort of beautiful, but beautiful all the same. Unable to sleep, Tav sat outside her tent, gazing out over the landscape of craggy rocks and softly glowing mushrooms. With no sun or moon to know the time of day, it was hard to know whether it was time to sleep or not, but for most of the party, exhaustion had set in, and they had retired to their tents, leaving the camp quiet and still.

Well, almost still. Tav’s eyes picked up movement, and immediately brought her to full awareness. She reached quietly for her weapon, preparing herself for whatever might be prowling in the night. A Duergar, a hostile Drow…

… A vampire.

Tav relaxed, but kept her eyes fixed on the movement by the most distant of the party’s tents. Astarion had set up as far from them as was safe, claiming “if I have to spend one more night listening to you all snoring, I may find myself forced to silence you”. And yet, with nobody snoring so far tonight, the vampire was still awake, and skulking off into the dark.

Tav rose to her feet, weapon still in hand, and followed quietly. It was far from unusual for Astarion to steal away at night when the day had provided no opportunities for him to feed. Often the morning after they would wake to find a conveniently bloodless boar or deer to add to their camp supplies. But the Underdark offered no prey that could be tackled alone. At least, not without great risk. If it was blood Astarion had left in search of, Tav had plenty to offer.

She tracked Astarion to a small clearing nearby, and to her surprise, found him sitting on a large stone, one elegant hand raised to his face. As she drew nearer, Tav saw his shoulders shake with a great, unsteady breath, and heard a quiet sniffle. Tav felt her heart sink on his behalf… Had he really felt he needed to creep away in the night to cry?

Another sharp, unsteady breath, another damp sniffle, and then…

“I can hear you skulking about, you know. Is even a moment’s privacy too much to ask?”

Tav stepped from the shadows, drawing closer. Up close, she could see a watery sheen over the vampire’s red eyes, and she had to fight the urge to reach for him and offer comfort, knowing he would likely reject what he saw as pity.

“I was worried for you. This isn’t a place to go wandering alone. I thought you were going hunting, and thought I ought to…”

He cut her off with a sudden hiss of breath, waving a hand at her to silence her. Puzzled, she watched as his eyes closed, and his elegant nose wrinkled with a sudden, sharp sniff. His breath hitched, once, twice… His lips parted, revealing just the tips of those lethal fangs. Another deep, expectant breath, and…

“Damn it all! You scared it off!”

Tav blinked, baffled.

“You came out here… to sneeze?”

At the mere mention of the word, Astarion’s nose twitched again, and he rubbed it angrily. His breath snagged on another series of useless hitches, and he gave a frustrated moan as they came to nothing.

“These blasted spores! I’ve needed to sneeze them out all day, but I c- I ca-hhahh… Hhahh… Damn it all!”

Tav came to sit beside him, torn between sympathy and amusement, and… Well, the less she thought about that little effect, the better. Astarion heaved a sigh, continuing to rub at his long-suffering nose, and gave a huff of irritation as she rested a hand on his back.

“And now, on top of everything, I have you as witness to my misery. This place gets more wretched by the hour!”

Tav took hold of his wrist and gently pulled his hand away from his face.

“You’ve really been fighting this all day? No wonder you’ve been in such a mood! Stop rubbing, you’ll only make your nose raw. It’s already well on the way.”

It was true, his nose was now a shade of pink that Tav struggled not to see as rather fetching. She watched as it wrinkled in irritation, nostrils flaring with a hopeless sniffle, and quickly turned her mind to a solution, before she could get too swept up enjoying the problem.

“Let me help. You’ll have no peace until you can get a good sneeze out.”

Even mentioning the word set Astarion into another bout of desperate hitching.

“HHh! Hhah… Hh! Hh! Hhn… Ugh! Whatever you mean to do, kindly get on with it!”

Tav tried not to squirm. What did she mean to do? She felt about in her pockets… A folded letter, an empty poison vial, a handful of dried herbs… A feather, picked up after a memorable encounter with some harpies. Taking it from her pocket, Tav turned to face the suffering vampire, and as he turned to face her too, raised a hand to cup his cheek, steadying him. She couldn’t help but lightly brush his nose with her thumb, testing its sensitivity. Not much testing was required.

Astarion almost pulled away, his nose twitching, nostrils flaring, dragging in another desperate breath.

“HhhhHHAH! Damn it all, if you’re going to do this, don’t tease, get to the point!”

“Alright. Hold still.”

Mouth dry, trying not to squirm, Tav raised the feather. It was a small thing, fluffy, and it fluttered with each unsteady breath as she brought it to Astarion’s nose, and gently began stroking it beneath his twitching nostrils.

It was torment to them both. Astarion gasped and trembled, and a tear streamed down his cheek from the sheer irritation. His lips parted, fangs bared in a snarl of pure agony, and he unthinkingly reached for Tav, his trembling hand coming to rest on her thigh. Unable to keep from squirming a little now, Tav quickened her movements, brushing the feather back and forth with quick, ticklish flicks.

“HHhaahh-HhAA! Hhh-HH-Hhhn… Hhm? HhAAAH-AH.. Damn it to hells, it’s worse!”

Tav swallowed dryly, and moved her hand to the back of his head, preventing him from pulling away. His nostrils were beginning to look rather damp, and if she didn’t go in for the kill, the feather was going to end up quite useless.

“Bear with me. It’ll be over before you know it.”

A quick flick of her fingers, and she poked the feather into one delicate nostril. At the unexpected intrusion, Astarion gave a terrible, flustered snort, and for a moment Tav was sure he was undone. Tears now streamed from both eyes, his nose wrinkled and wriggled desperately in an attempt to purge the dreadful tickle, and his breathing was too desperate and erratic to even form words. Once, twice, three times he seemed on the point of no return, and his hand gripped her thigh like it was the only thing keeping him steady.

And then it was fading again. His eyes barely opened enough to give her a desperate look.

“… Hhh-HhAhh.. Please!”

Too determined now to even feel the flush on her cheeks, Tav worked the feather deeper, twitching it erratically, hoping to find that one spot that would bring relief. Quick, pointed twitches, seeking out the weak point in that long-suffering nose, deeper and deeper…

A sudden, flustered sniffle drew the feather deeper still, and it was done.

“HHHHRAASCHH!”

Tav drew back her hand in shock, the feather coming with it, as Astarion lurched forward in another desperate sneeze. And another, and another.

“HHRAAASHOO! HHhhhHSHOO! Hh-HH-HHSHOO!”

They burst out of him, one after another, the floodgates open after a day of torment, and all Tav could do was sit and watch, a steadying hand on his back, as he hitched and shuddered and sneezed as if his long-suffering nose could never be satisfied.

“HHRASCHH! RrrASCHOO! ‘SCHHOO! H-HHRASCHOO! HHh… HhhHH!”

“That’s it, get it all out… Gods, you were fighting this all day?”

Astarion’s face was a picture of misery, tears streaming down his cheeks, lashes damp, nose red and streaming and twitching and relentlessly sneezing.

“HSSCHOO! HRAAASHOO! Hh-HH-HHARASCHOO!”

Tav lost count of how many sneezes burst out of the poor vampire, but it was a display the likes of which she had never seen before. By the time the sneezes finally began to slow, she was almost trembling, her own breath decidedly unsteady. Forcing herself to remember that it wasn’t her own relief she was seeking, she rubbed Astarion’s back soothingly as he shuddered with breathy, increasingly exhausted sneezes.

“Well done. That’s it, just relax and let them happen. Feeling better?”

At last, with a final, exhausted “Hhahhshoo!”, Astarion let out a shaky breath, and opened teary eyes. He gave an extremely hesitant sniffle, as if worried he might set himself off again, and gave a deep sigh of relief.

“Well! That certainly scratched an itch! Erm… Do you happen to have…”

He gave a series of rather wet sniffles, one hand belatedly coming up to block his face from view. Shaken from her daze, Tav hastily searched her pockets once again, coming up with a handkerchief. She pressed it into Astarion’s hand, and turned away to give him a moment’s privacy while he put it to use.

After a series of wet, desperate nose-blows and sniffles, Astarion mopped his streaming eyes, and turned to Tav with a somewhat embarrassed expression.

“You do have your uses, don’t you, darling? Thank you. And… Ah… If we could perhaps keep this little moment between ourselves?”

“Of course,” Tav replied, a little too quickly, hoping the flush on her cheeks wasn’t as bright red as it felt. “I hope you feel better? Having to get all of that out for so long must have been maddening!”

“Ugh, you’ve no idea! Felt like every breath I was inhaling pure pepper, and with no relief in sight!”

Freed from irritation at last, he finally turned his attention to her properly, and his lips curved into a smile.

“And speaking of relief… Well, well… You look as if you could use some yourself, darling? That little episode certainly felt good for me. It would be unfair if I didn’t offer a little satisfaction in return.”

His hand was still on her thigh, and he raised his other hand to gently brush a lock of hair behind Tav’s ear, before lightly pulling her closer.

“My, my… So worked up, over… this?”

He leaned in to kiss her, lightly enough to leave her wanting more, and as his nose brushed against hers, it twitched with another sniffle. Tav couldn’t hold back a moan.

“I really did just want to help…”

“And you did, my darling. Now let me thank you for it.”

Another kiss, and the hand on her thigh crept higher, slender, dextrous fingers setting to work on her belt. Breaking the kiss in order to breathe, Astarion leaned in to murmur in her ear.

“Just promise me one thing?”

“Of course.”

“Who knows how long we’ll be trekking through this spore riddled hellscape? Just… Promise me you’ll keep that feather close?”

[anisaanisa]

Kagome’s time between worlds. Drabble collection for @inukag-week 2023 ☆ Chapter 7/7 – Smile: Kagome comes home. Tags: The One with the Chapter/Episode Retelling Word Count: 700 (Heptadrabble) 《 Previous〡Next 》 A/N below the cut ☆

Kagome’s fingers slipped away, and with her last leap of faith came her final wish – that she’d look like her mother when she was older.

Her heart crept up her throat while her stomach stayed behind. Time cushioned her fall, bathed her in shimmering light and slowly, gravity returned. Stone and packed earth became corporeal again, and Kagome was left standing at the bottom of the bone-eaters well, five-hundred years in the past.

She grinned and looked up. The climb was tough, that much she remembered, and she positioned her feet to pull herself up and leave the world she’d been born into behind.

One year for every day spent inside the jewel was long enough to know that while her prospects were bright, she felt enormously bleak, and her family knew, from the lack of what comes next. They’d flowed around her like a stone in a river, hoping the passage of time would dislodge her; she could be polished like her lacquer but still preferred the remnants of dirt under her nails.

There would be no right time. There was only time, and what she chose to do with it.

She’d wanted both, so asked for neither and accepted where she’d been assigned to; where fear of the unknown kept her hostage. She lathered and rinsed, but Kagome was stuck on repeat, taunted by dreams of choosing the wrong path, and she should've known where she belonged when she sought where life had taken them, and couldn’t bear to know if she wasn’t there to witness it.

The thought that Inuyasha might not be there occurred, but she crushed it as assuredly as she climbed because they were cut from the same cloth, and she knew he’d stubbornly rebuild the village Naraku had so callously destroyed. It was impossible to know what waited for her, but she raced towards it like it was the only finish line worth crossing.

Too much went unsaid, and she’d be damned if she didn’t get the chance to tell him.

He’d taught her so much. That she didn’t have to smile just to please others, to trust her intuition. That she was powerful enough to fight anything coming her way. To stand up for those who couldn’t do it for themselves. What true strength and kindness is.

That sometimes, choosing your heart – human, demon or otherwise – was the most courageous path a person could take.

Was it so selfish to want to see a man like that again?

That question, she decided, was only hers to determine, and she wasn’t afraid of the answer anymore.

Slippery vines aided and hindered her ascent, and her legs started to shake the closer she came to cerulean skies. A hand appeared in front of her face, and her eyes crossed. Calloused, claw-tipped fingers flexed, she grabbed on, and in a blink, she was hauled from its mouth to come face to face with the man she needed to see again.

"Inuyasha! I’m so sorry," she said, tears springing to her eyes, "were you waiting for me?"

"Kagome…" He looked the same, yet entirely different, and he gave her no time to admire that before he yanked and she flew forward, straight into his arms. "You idiot," he said, shrouding her in his sleeves, "what took you so long?"

She had so much to say, no idea where to start, and from the glint in his eyes, he felt the same.

How silly of her, to think destiny had been fulfilled, that she’d have to settle, be grateful, and condemn herself to a life of what-ifs.

Voices rang from afar, drawing her attention. Sango, Miroku, Shippo, and three little faces she didn’t know but would recognise anywhere appeared, and she looked back at Inuyasha, smiling as brightly as the gold staring back.

Her duty to the past had been fulfilled. She wound back the clock, brought back the jewel, destroyed it, then mended it, all so she could say she’d destroyed it again and lived to tell the tale.

Miraculously, despite all that, and in the face of it, she even managed to graduate.

But she had a different purpose now.

And his name was Inuyasha.

Fin

Read it on AO3 ▶

Of course, she chose him! Kagome’s the main character! And the story’s called Inuyasha!

For those interested, this chapter falls loosely between Chapters 3 & 4 of Homecoming, which starts with Inuyasha’s POV during the 3-year separation ❤

Thanks again to @inukag-week for reviving this universe!

ttyl bbs 🤸

[writingmaidenwarrior]

Sin Eaters Part 7

As promised @cljordan-imperium a new chapter just for you, right before the holidays.

Warnings: talks about sex, mentions of death

After the almost interrogation by Melleis Talindra was happy to have a moment on her own at the border between the backyards and just watch the people come and go while sitting on the stone fence. At least she was a bit wiser now about how to deal with the situation at hand regarding what the higher ups expect of them after hearing how others do it. Still, she had no real idea what the deal with the horns was because Melleis just grinned and stated she will learn fast enough since she was a horned one herself. Her inkling that full grown horns become more sensitive than those stumps she had all her life became bigger and she started to get tempted to test it with Wynthan.

“What are you thinking about with this wicked smile, my little devil?”

Wynthan stepped next to her, a step behind her still, with laughter in his voice. She craned her neck to see him and let out a small, surprised squeal. If Wynthan was already good looking with the long hair tight up in his neck, the short hair with a wild long streak framing his face on the right side he was now handsome as fuck.

“Going through all the things Mel and I discussed, but damn you look good.”

A bit sheepish he pushed the longer part of hair behind his ear, or at least tried it because it was too short. Kimesnin clearly just left it long enough to frame his face and give him a little rebellious air, emphasizing his clear-cut cheek bones but not long enough to make it a hassle. Talindra snickered and reached out to let her hand wander through the short hair. He stopped her midair.

“I don’t think we are at this level of our relationship yet”, he joked.

“But you wanted to do something earlier.”

“I think pulling a prank is a different thing than letting your fingers run through a person’s hair, don’t you think?”

She crunched her face but yielded.

“Yeah, I give up.”

Slowly Wynthan put her hand down and leaned in to press a kiss on her forehead. She just sat there and blinked at him in response. His smile drew her in, and she slowly turned around to face him completely.

“What was that?”

“I just… felt like doing it…”

The smile flickered as a wave of confusion washed over his face. Talindra put her hands on his shoulders and tilted her head slightly. His hands came to rest on her hips, his thumbs pressing slightly into it and made her feel hot and cold at the same time.

“You are acting on an impulse? I thought you were too controlled for this.”

The smile came back full force. Slightly he leaned in again until only half a hand width was between their faces.

“I am less controlled sometimes than you might get the impression the last twenty-four hours. I just like to stay alive.”

“I copy this. I am slightly clingy when it comes to staying alive”, Talindra joked.

“Good, because I am afraid mom will rip my head off if something happens to you. She took a liking to you even faster than she did to Mel or anyone else.”

“Anyone else?”

“You didn’t consider I have more siblings than Gil?”

“I was busy with a nosy Sin Eater.”

“Apology accepted”, he snickered and closed the last distance.

Almost instantly Talindra wrapped her legs around his and took a deep, relaxed breath.

“Gil gave me an idea what this connection is between the two of us.”

“So?”

“We need to ask one of the elders, but if I remember right the bits and pieces it explains why we trust each other and why we sense each other but not the rest.”

“You mean the attraction.”

“Yes.”

She felt his hands moving from her hips to her back. His thumbs started drawing circled over her shirt that ignited something in her blood she hasn’t sensed in ages. Her body reacted with running hot in the most literal way. Wynthan’s snicker relaxed her.

“You are literal a little devil. Keeping secrets still from me.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You also have fire, don’t you?”, he breathed into her ear.

“Only a little. I can’t really control it. Just enough to not burn me.”

One of his hands moved higher where her spine laid closer under the surface close to the neck and softly pressed a finger onto it. She yelped, jolted into him, and felt something surging through her hot and fierce that was clearly no arousal.

A second later Talindra breathed a deep breath of freedom. In a strange way it felt as shackles had been taken from her chest and she could breathe freely for the first time.

“What did you do?”

Her voice still shaky she tried to look at him, but Wynthan held her in his embrace.

“Helping you with your magic. Your fire was blocked because you are a horned one trying to pass as human.”

He stopped to nestle his face into her shoulder and sigh.

“That was this relieving sensation…”

“Just breath and sit for a moment. You might feel dizzy for the next hour.”

“How did you know what to do?”

His laughter vibrated in her body in a good way.

“Funny thing about our kind. Our magic sometimes gets blocked like muscles get cramped. Knowing where to press for each kind of magic is basic knowledge for all of us. Fire is up here. Earth down here…”, Wynthan pressed gently on the small of her back right above her ass and moved to the middle of her back right underneath the level of her ribs, “Here is the area for water, and air user get really funny.”

“Funny?”, Talindra repeated.

A moment later she felt his thumb on the base of her head, gently tapping the spot. She felt her magic immediately reacting to it with a soft wave inside her body. With a smirk she lowered her arms and wrapped them as good as possible around his waist.

“That means, I need to remember to massage your back well.”

A soft hum was the answer. She felt him smiling and anticipated him to pull another silly thing.

“You know, I might haven an idea where the attraction part comes from.”

“You do?”

Wynthan lifted his head from her shoulder what made her whimper subconsciously. He simply raised his eyebrow at her but kept his remark to him.

“We both have fire. No one knows why but those with fire magic are always more likely to be drawn to each other.”

Talindra started to get where his thoughts were going.

“The weird connection and us both having fire is what this is all about?”

“This is the current working theory. We can’t say for sure until we met with an elder and until then..”

She squinted at him not amused.

“I am afraid I know what you want to say now.”

“What do you think?”, he teased her with another kiss on her forehead.

“Not going further like this here until we talked to an elder.”

“That’s my smart little devil.”

“I hate you.”

“I hope you don’t.”

“Why?”

The spark of mischief in his eyes gave Talindra goosebumps in anticipation. He brushed his nose over hers.

“You know waiting makes things more exciting.”

“And?”

“And you forget the Festival of the Eternals is soon. We should sort it all out until then.”

“What is so special about it? It’s boring”, Talindra lamented.

“Maybe on the human side of the city but not in hell. We celebrate it with stories, good food and drinks, little games, and I am sure you will be especially fond of the nights.”

“Color me intrigued.”

“There are always houses and apartments empty and prepared for Sin Eaters during the festival. The nights are for the adventurous singles.”

The way he smirked and played with his eyebrows as he stated this gave Talindra the feeling it was meant exactly the way she understood it.

“It’s an adults only event at night.”

“It is. With special performances and many things, I don’t want to tell you beforehand.”

Leaning back to get some space between them Talindra tried to remember when the festival would be. Wynthan waited patiently for her to come up with it.

“Three weeks?”

“More or less, yes”, he confirmed, “But this gives us a lot of time to get to know each other and sort things out.”

“I have the feeling you have a plan beyond this.”

The grin on his face was beyond naughty and Talindra was baffled it was even there after all. From what she had noticed so far, she thought he would stall everything physical.

“I do, but I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“What changed?”

This sudden change made her skeptical and the fact he nodded and licked his lips before answering told her there was some recent event that changed his careful approach to this straightforward one.

“I had a longer talk with mom and Gil while she cut my hair. You probably got told from Mel how she and Gil are as couple?”

With a small nod Talindra confirmed it and nudged him to continue.

“It appears I might have been a bit too careful. With you being on the same page as me and us clicking right away like to cogs meant to work together we still need to watch out of course, but not as much. The higher-ups care for only one thing: children. If they get them from us because we are actually in love, or just have sex like some crazy rabbits or if I would force you as I got trained to, they don’t care.”

Her gaze dropped down to her lap. The deep breath she took went through her whole body before she nodded.

“I see. No walking on eggshells.”

“No walking on eggshells. No game of hiding. It is not uncommon for horned ones to take their partners to the festival on our side. Many children happen to come into this world like this.”

Both snickered about this because it was obvious with the horned one version of festival being a celebration of life like that. A moment later Talindra frowned.

“I need to ask your mother something.”

Gently she pushed him away and jumped down the fence. Kimesnin stood on the stove stirring something that looked like a sauce when Talindra entered.

“Kimesnin, how long are horned one pregnancies?”

“Hello and welcome back. Why do you want to know this now?”, Kimesnin replied without looking up from the pot in front of her.

“Nat and I talked about the festival and how it differs from the human version, and I think I might be one of the children that got created during one of the festivals.”

This got Kimesnin to look up and stare at Talindra in confusion.

“If the horned one is female and got pregnant from a human it is usually around eleven months of pregnancy, but since we know your father must have been part horned one already it is possible that it was shorter, around nine to ten months.”

“My birthday was two months ago. That means technically I could be a child from a festival.”

“Mom?”, Wynthan asked behind her with a weird tone.

Kimesnin, Gilmyrn and Wynthan shared a strange look until Melleis burst out laughing.

“You didn’t tell her?”

“Tell me what?”

“That should have been one of the surprises”, Wynthan sighed with a snicker.

With a waiting position Talindra looked at Melleis who looked at Wynthan with a silent “She is your partner” in her gaze.

“Part of the nightly potion of the festival is burning certain herbs that make you more relaxed and more likely to engage in sex. It is not uncommon for orgies to happen because of this.”

Talindra sucked in her lower lip to stop herself from laughing.

“In other words, there is a chance the human partner of my mother isn’t my father but a horned one?”

“Or another human with more horned one blood in him”, Kimesnin added, “Once we get you to an elder, we can get that sorted out as well. We have ways and methods humans never learned to trace bloodlines. Until then you might want to find your birth notification and your parents Sin Eater logs. If things haven’t changed in those last thirty years, you still might get access to the archives.”

Gilmyrn nodded from the side and waved with the kitchen knife in his hand.

“She is right. We have the highest security level a soldier outside the higher ups got. And yes, we still get access. One from our unit used it two years ago to find family after her parents died. In some way it is a thing most Sin Eaters do at one point.”

With the try to not laugh at the absurd picture of Gilmyrn with the kitchen knife, Talindra turned to Wynthan with a sweet smile.

“Sounds like we will spend our time getting to know each other over dusty logs.”

“I can imagine worse”, Wynthan joked and went to take the knife from Gilmyrn.

“Before anyone imagines anything far into the future, why don’t you start setting up everything outside.”

Kimesnin nodded towards the backyard with a motherly smile.

“Setting up?”

Talindra watched how Melleis and Gilmyrn went outside and pulled her with her.

“Just come with us. I guess Kimesnin wants to talk to him alone.”

“Why this?”

The face Melleis made put more question marks in Talindra’s head. Gilmyrn sighed and gently pushed her down the next chair. A quick glance inside later he took a seat opposite of her.

“Besides Nat and me, there are three more of us. One brother and two sisters, and one of the sisters had no horns”, he explained in a low voice.

A grim smile on her lips she huffed.

“She could have said something to me.”

“You have to understand this isn’t easy”, Melleis stepped in, “It is unusual that the horned one can raise their children. With their fifty years as Sin Eaters, they usually have to serve all of their children are taken away and put into the care of family. You probably noticed the amount of older folks with young kids when you went through the streets.”

With Melleis pointing it out like this Talindra realized there were mostly older folks with the children. Gilmyrn snickered as he saw her realization.

“You don’t need to feel bad. You probably thought it’s nice the grandparents spend time with their grandchildren.”

“Yeah, I did”, Talindra admitted sheepishly, “What happened that Kimesnin could raise you?”

“Nat was barely a year old when she and our father got dispatched for a double A monster with some others. Half the unit got killed. Our father was one of them, mom came back with half her bones broken and more dead than alive. She got retired because she never healed completely. With weather like today it isn’t noticeable but once it gets rainy she is in a lot of pain.”

Melleis sighed and looked towards the house.

“She probably is every day. Nonetheless she fought to be able to raise them. Stubborn like a rock this woman, and her son’s as well.”

“I have no idea what you mean, love.”

“Of course, you don’t.”

With a snicker Melleis pressed a quick peck on Gilmyrn’s cheek but Talindra’s mind was too occupied by the new information. That explained a lot of the strange questions Kimesnin asked about how Talindra grew up and how she dealt with her horns and all those things. A growing suspicion Kimesnin was afraid her allegedly human daughter was like Talindra started to grow.

“Natty was right.”

Gilmyrn’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. His amused smirk looked a lot like Wynthan. For a moment Talindra wondered if they got it from their father.

“Right? With what?”

“You are smart. I can see in your gaze you got the right idea what mom probably will ask him to do when you go to the archive.”

“This is all rotten from the top to the core”, Talindra growled, “I need to make a list of things I want to ask the elders if they want to see me. If they have answers to my questions.”

“You won’t change it, Talindra”, Kimesnin’s voice waved over soft and defeated.

The look in her eyes told of too many fights she already fought against the system just for her children.

“I know but hopefully I won’t. You can’t tell me I am the only one who thinks this. Things will get into motion once my secret gets revealed. Even if I am safe, they will hunt down every civilian who pass as human but is a horned one. I just realized it. If I let them grow as planned, I will put a target on everyone like me and that means either I will stay in hiding or we use it as a start signal to push for changes.”

All eyes went from her to Wynthan who bit his lips with a smirk and looked at Kimesnin with a gaze that held something along the lines of “I told you she would go there” and something Talindra deciphered as proud.

A deep breath later Kimesnin smiled.

“The triumvirates have no idea what they did when they matched you two. They won’t see it coming until it’s too late.”

“Wouldn’t be fun otherwise.”

Melleis and Wynthan snickered at Talindra’s remark, but Gilmyrn groaned almost unisono with his mother.

“Eternals watch over us. We will either go down in flames or finally be free.”

[acourtofquestions]

"I didn't break," she said quietly. His heart cracked at the words. "I didn't tell them anything."

She didn't say it for praise, to boast. But rather to tell him, her consort, of where they stood in this war. What their enemies might know.

"I knew you wouldn't," he managed to say.

"She ... she tried to convince me that this was the bad dream. When Cairn was done with me, or during it, I don't know, she'd try to worm her way into my mind." She glanced around the cave, as if she could see the world beyond it. "She spun fantasies that felt so real..." She bobbed under the surface. Perhaps she'd needed the cooling water of the lake to be able to hear her own voice again; perhaps she needed the distance between them so she could speak these words. She emerged, slicking back her hair with a hand. "They felt like this."

Half of him didn't want to know, but he asked, "What sort of illusions?"

A long pause. "It doesn't matter now."

Too soon to push—if ever.

Then she asked softly, "How long?"

It took the entirety of his three centuries of training to keep the devastation, the agony for her, from his face. "Two months, three days, and seven hours."

Her mouth tightened, either at the length of time, or the fact that he'd counted every single one of those hours apart.

She ran her fingers through her hair, its strands floating around her in the water. Still too long for two months to have passed. "They healed me after each ... session. So that I stopped knowing what had been done and what was in my mind and where the truth lay." Erase her scars, and Maeve stood a better chance at convincing her none of this was real. "But the healers couldn't remember how long my hair was, or Maeve wanted to confuse me further, so they grew it out." Her eyes darkened at the memory of why, perhaps, they had needed to regrow her hair in the first place.

"Do you want me to cut it back to the length it was when I last saw you?" His words were near-guttural.

"No." Ripples shivered around her. "I want it so I can remember."

What had been done to her, what she'd survived and what she had protected.

Even if the woman treading water before him didn't seem to have vengeance on her mind. Not so much as a hint of the burning rage that fueled her.

He didn't blame her. Knew it would take time, time and distance, to heal the internal wounds. If they could ever really heal at all.

But he'd work with her, help in whatever way he could. And if she never returned to who she had been before this, he would not love her any less.

Aelin dunked her head, and when she emerged, she said, "Maeve was about to put a Valg collar around my neck. She left to retrieve it." The scent of her lingering fear drifted toward him, and Rowan lurched a step closer to the water's edge. "It's why I—why I got away. She had me moved to the army camp for safekeeping, and I ..." Her voice stalled, yet she met his stare. Let him read the words she could not say, in that silent way they'd always been able to communicate. Escape wasn't my intention.

"No, Fireheart," he breathed, shaking his head, horror creeping over him. "There ... there was no collar."

She blinked, head angling. "That was a dream, too?"

His heart cracked as he struggled for the words. Made himself voice them. "No—it was real. Or Maeve thought it was. But the collars, the Valg presence ... It was a lie that we crafted. To draw Maeve out, hopefully away from you and Doranelle."

Only the faint lapping of water sounded. "There was no collar?"

Rowan lowered himself to his knees and shook his head. "I—Aelin, if I'd known what she'd do with the knowledge, what you'd decide to do-"

He might have lost her. Not from Maeve or the gods or the Lock, but from his own damned choices. The lie he'd spun.

Aelin drifted beneath the surface again. So deep that when the flare happened, it was little more than a flutter. The light burst from her, rippling across the lake, illumining the stones, the slick ceiling above. A silent eruption. His breathing turned ragged. But she swam toward the surface again, light streaming off her body like tendrils of clouds. It had nearly vanished when she emerged.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say. Again, that angle of the head. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He did, though. He'd added to her terror, her desperation. He'd— "If you had not planted that lie for Maeve, if she had not told me, I don't think we'd be here right now," she said.

He tried to rein in the twisting in his gut, the urge to reach for her, to beg for her forgiveness. Tried and tried.

She only asked, "What of the others?" She didn't know-couldn't know how and why and where they'd all parted ways. So Rowan told her, as succinctly and calmly as he could.

When he finished, Aelin was quiet for long minutes.

She stared out into the blackness, the rippling of her treading water the only sound. Her body had nearly lost that freshly forged glow.

Then she pivoted back toward him. "Maeve said you and the others were in the North. That you'd been spotted by her spies there. Did you plant that deception for her, too?"

He shook his head. "Lysandra has been thorough, it seems."

Aelin's throat bobbed. "I believed her." It sounded like a confession, somehow.

So Rowan found himself saying, "I told you once that even if death separated us, I would rip apart every world until I found you." He gave her a slash of a smile. "Did you really believe this would stop me?'

She pursed her mouth, and at last, those agonizing emotions began to surface in her eyes. "You were supposed to save Terrasen."

"Considering that the sun shines, I'd say Erawan hasn't won yet. So we'll save it together."

He didn't let himself think of the final cost of destroying Erawan. And Aelin seemed in no hurry to discuss it, either, as she said, "You should have gone to Terrasen. It needs you."

"I need you more." He didn't balk from the stark honesty roughening his voice. "And Terrasen will need you, too. Not Lysandra masquerading as you, but you."

A shallow nod. "Maeve raised her army. I doubt it was only to guard me while she was away."

He'd put the thought aside, to consider later. "It might just be to shore up her defenses, should Erawan win across the sea."

"Do you truly think that's what she plans to do with it?"

"No," he admitted. "I don't."

And if Maeve meant to bring that army to Terrasen, to either unite with Erawan or simply be another force battering their kingdom, to strike when they were weakest, they had to hurry. Had to get back. Immediately. His mate's eyes shone with the same understanding and dread.

Aelin's throat bobbed as she whispered, "I'm so tired, Rowan."

His heart strained again. "I know, Fireheart."

He opened his mouth to say more, to coax her onto land so he might at least hold her if words couldn't ease her burden, but that's when he saw it.

A boat, ancient and every inch of it carved, drifted out of the gloom.

"Get back to shore." The boat wasn't drifting—it was being tugged. He could just barely make out two dark forms slithering beneath the surface.

Aelin didn't hesitate, yet her strokes remained steady as she swam for him. She didn’t balk at the hand he extended, and he wrapped his cloak around her while the boat ambled past.

But Aelin turned toward them, hair dripping onto the stone at her bare feet. Half a thought from her could have had her dry, yet she made no move to do so. "We're being hunted."

"We know that," Lorcan shot back, and were it not for the fact that Aelin was currently allowing him to rest a hand upon her shoulder, Rowan would have thrown the male into the lake.

But Aelin's features didn't shift from that graveness, that unruffled calm. "The only way to the sea is through these caves." It was an outrageous claim.

"And I suppose they told you that?" Lorcan's face was hard as granite.

"Watch it," Rowan snarled. Fenrys indeed bared his teeth at the dark-haired warrior, fur bristling. But Aelin said simply, "Yes." Her chin didn't dip an inch. "The land above is crawling with soldiers and spies. Going beneath them is the only way."

Elide stepped forward. "I will go." She cut a cold glance toward Lorcan. "You can take your chances above, if you're so disbelieving." Lorcan's jaw tightened, and a small part of Rowan relished seeing the delicate Lady of Perranth fillet the centuries-hardened warrior with a few words. "Considering the potential pitfalls of the situation is wise."

"We don't have time to consider," Rowan cut in before Elide could voice the retort on her tongue. "We need to keep moving. Gavriel stalked forward to study the moored boat and what seemed to be bundles of supplies on its sturdy planks. "How will we navigate our way, though?"

"We'll be escorted," Aelin answered.

"And if they abandon us?" Lorcan challenged. Aelin leveled unfazed eyes upon him.

"Then you'll have to find a way out, I suppose." A hint-just a spark-of temper belied those calm words. There was nothing else to debate after that.

And they had little to pack. The others gave Aelin privacy to dress by the fire while they inspected the boat, and when his mate emerged again, clad in boots, pants, and various layers beneath her gray surcoat, the sight of her in clothes from Mistward was enough to make his gut clench.

No longer a naked, escaped captive. Yet none of that wickedness, that joy and unchecked wildness illuminated her face.

The rest of their party waited on the boat, seated on the benches built into its high-lipped sides. Fenrys and Elide both sat as seemingly far from Lorcan as they could get, Gavriel a golden, long-suffering buffer between them.

Rowan lingered at the shore's edge, a hand extended for Aelin while she approached. Each of her steps seemed considered—as if she still marveled at being able to move freely. As if still adjusting to her legs without the burden of chains.

"Why?" Lorcan mused aloud, more to himself. "Why go to these lengths for us?"

He got his answer—they all did—a heartbeat later. Aelin halted a few feet away from the boat and Rowan's outstretched hand. She turned back toward the cave itself. The Little Folk peeked from those birch branches, from the rocks, from behind stalagmites. Slowly, deeply, Aelin bowed to them. Rowan could have sworn all those tiny heads lowered in answer.

A pair of bony grayish hands rose above a nearby rock, something glittering held between them, and set the object on the stone.

Rowan went still. A crown of silver and pearl and diamond gleamed there, fashioned into upswept swan's wings

"The Crown of Mab," Gavriel breathed. But Fenrys looked away, toward the looming dark, his tail curling around him.

Aelin staggered a step closer to the crown. "It—it fell into the river."

Rowan didn't want to know how she'd encountered it, why she'd seen it fall into a river. Maeve had kept her sisters' two crowns under constant guard, only bringing them out to be displayed in her throne room on state occasions. In memory of her siblings, she'd intoned. Rowan had sometimes wondered if it was a reminder that she had outlasted them, had kept the throne for herself in the end.

The grayish hand slipped over the rock's edge again and nudged the crown in silent gesture. Take it.

"You want to know why?" Gavriel softly asked Lorcan as Aelin strode for the rock. Nothing but solemn reverence on her face. "Because she is not only Brannon's Heir, but Mab's, too."

A throwback to her great-great-grandmother, Maeve had taunted her. Who had inherited her strength, her immortal lifespan.

Aelin's fingers closed around the crown, lifting it gently. It sparkled like living moonlight between her hands.

My sister Mab's line ran true, Elide claimed Maeve had said on the beach. In every way, it seemed.

But Aelin made no move to don the crown while she approached him once more, her gait steadier this time. Trying not to dwell on the unbearable smoothness of her hand as it wrapped around his, Rowan helped her aboard, then climbed in himself before freeing the ropes tethering them to the shore.

Gavriel went on, awe in every word, "And that makes her their queen, too."

Aelin met Gavriel's gaze, the crown near-glowing in her hands. "Yes," was all she said as the boat sailed into the darkness.

[canary0]

Aug. 1st - Dracula 2021

The Log of the Demeter

Fog has settled in over the English Channel, and the engines are down. The men are trying to figure out what the problem is, but the more experienced member of the engineering team already disappeared. We may have overstressed it in our haste. We're adrift, but moving, and the sense of doom, that cold knowledge that your end has arrived, is stronger than ever as we draw ever closer to wherever we're going. The mate is disheartened now even more than the others.

---

Mina Murray's Journal

I came up to the abbey ruin, just Lucy and I to have some girl's time and do some wedding planning. She wants to hold mine as soon as Mr. Holmwood returns from his father's side and Mr. Hawkins is able to come up. I will admit, I also made something of an odd invitation - Dr. Stankiewicz. I don't know if she'll accept since it's so soon and so far, but we wouldn't be able to get married if she hadn't helped Jonathan.

Either way, we went up, and the older woman we met before was there at Lucy's spot. I greeted her warmly and introduced Lucy. They took to one another immediately; Lucy's always been good with the elderly. She had considered becoming a nurse at one time to work with them, but the whole idea of her being around so much sickness made her mother terribly upset with anxiety.

We got onto the topic of the graves around us again, and she gave a warm chuckle. "Do you know? My great-grandfather, whom I told you about before, believed that the reason people have gravestones was to present evidence that they were a good person when they got to heaven. He said they all lugged these big stones up to the pearly gates and showed them to Gabriel and St. Peter!"

Lucy's eyes went wide, and she covered a giggle with both hands. I admit that it was not only what she said, but likely my expression that caused it, as I was quite confused, and voiced it. "Wouldn't it be better to make something more portable? And... detailed?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I thought that too! Of course, he passed before I was old enough to think of that and get an answer." We all couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Though he was right that many of these gravestones don't have the truth on them, which was part of his argument. This is a coastal town, with a lot of fishing - though there's less business for that after the Brexit nonsense, don't get me started, dear - so you can imagine how many of them went."

Lucy nodded. "Oh... yes, they must have been lost at sea, so they wouldn't be here."

"Indeed!" She chuckled. "Actually, I didn't understand it at the time because I was terribly young, but the family thought to respect his belief with his inscription. Come here, let me show you."

She guided us over to where somewhat newer graves began and gestured to a tombstone. I read it aloud.

Victor Swales 1819-1897 Beloved father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. St. Peter & Gabriel: He's really a decent sort. Please go easy on him.

Lucy covered her mouth. "Oh dear! Isn't that a little sacrilegious?"

She grinned, showing some missing teeth. "Well, the two of them can take it up with the family when judgment day comes."

I noted, "You have his last name still - did your husband take your name?"

"Never did have one of those, dear."

Lucy looked surprised. "Really? From your manner, I could have sworn you were a grandmother."

"Oh, I am!" She replied. "Don't need a husband for that. But it's getting toward time to go. My daughter is visiting, and I don't want to keep her waiting."

We were surprised, but we both waved, giving our goodbyes.

(A/N: Fuck's sake, Mina, while is the entry after I've driven 12 hours so damn long? @_@ Time to get some rest.

I included a few fun things in this chapter, but particular shout out to the non-ace aros! I wanted to use the last name, but she also struck me as a grandma, so... there you go. XD)

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday - Moth to Flame (The Wives of Shor Series)

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim This snippet rating: T Entire fic rating: E Category: M/M Pairing: Kaidan/Lucien Flavius Genres: romance, adventure, bildungsroman Other Characters: Inigo the Brave, the Last Dragonborn Status: in progress/outlining, will not start posting until at least the first drafts of all chapters are completed

Summary: In honor of Heart's Day, my WIP Wednesday is a scene from my Kaidan/Lucien Flavius romance trilogy, where Kaidan first realizes he feels something more than camaraderie for Lucien.

Contains some punctured lung gore.

First Heart’s Day, 4E 202

Heat built in Kaidan’s chest as the healing spell poured into him. He still gasped for breath, but each draught of air came easier than the last. The golden light of the healing spell lit Lucien’s face above him as his mind cleared. Kaidan could see blood dripping out of a small aperture in the wall next to Lucien’s head.

Is that mine?

Kaidan’s head swam, he knew he was in…in…somewhere dark, somewhere built out of stone, but he could not remember how he got there or why it was important. He wished the ground would stop tilting, he felt like the whole room might slide off into Oblivion.

Over Lucien’s shoulder Kaidan could see Inigo and Pascale’s faces watching him, barely visible in the gloom.

When he opened his mouth to say he was fine, coughing wracked his frame and a few flecks of pink foam splattered across Lucien’s face.

Pascale disappeared from view.

I just need a rest, and I’ll be fine…

Lucien’s expression remained fixed, a small line between his brows that Kaidan had learned over the course of their travels meant “I am concentrating very hard.”

Pascale appeared over Lucien’s shoulder again and said something– at least, Kaidan presumed she said something, he could see her lips move and Lucien responded with a curt nod but the words weren’t audible over the damned ringing that filled Kaidan’s head.

The warmth faded as Lucien removed his hands from Kaidan’s body and took the proffered blue potion bottle from Pascale’s hand.

A wave of coldness swept in where the warmth had been; Kaidan could feel it settling around his heart as black clouds closed over his vision. He felt as if he was trapped in a deep well, the image of Lucien taking a long pull from the vessel above him small and faint. Kaidan knew he should breathe but the effort of inhaling was too much.

Come back, don’t leave me!

Golden light exploded around him, driving back the darkness and cold. In contrast to the previous gentle heat, this was a wildfire, burning its way through his body. Lucien’s face was suddenly close to his, filling his vision, as big as the sky. Kaidan thought his heart would erupt out of his chest as his pulse thundered in his ears.

It’s too much!

The energy flowing through him was like a bolting horse, and the look in Lucien’s eyes told Kaidan the flow of magicka was out of his control. Kaidan was like the vessel at the lower leg of a siphon, inexorably drawing the magicka from Lucien’s reserves. He could hear Pascale now, she was yelling at Lucien to stop.

There was a dizzying feeling of vertigo, and for a moment Kaidan could see himself. He was lying on the dirty floor of an ancient Nordic crypt in a pool of his own blood, lips pale and eyes sunken, and his hands– no, those were Lucien’s hands– gripped the front of his armor. Inigo was trying to pry them off and was yelling in Lucien’s –Kaidan’s– other ear.

Deep inside Kaidan’s mind he felt a sudden snap as tension he had never been cognizant of was released, and in an instant he was again looking up at Lucien from the proper perspective as he drew a deep, shuddering breath.

And then another.

And another.

The heat of the spell receded, but the bitter cold did not invade this time, and it was only as his breathing returned to normal that Kaidan realized he had previously only been gasping like a landed trout. His pulse was slowing to normal.

“I think…I think that’s done it,” Lucien said, giving Kaidan a wan smile before his eyes rolled up and he pitched forward in a limp heap over Kaidan’s body, completely drained of magicka.

There was no discussion needed to decide to turn back and make camp at the entrance to the tomb. Kaidan made as if to carry Lucien’s insensate form but one look from Inigo (and the realization that his legs barely had the strength to carry his own weight back out to the free air of Skyrim) and he allowed Pascale to take his pack in addition to her own as Inigo scooped up Lucien and they began to pick their way carefully back to the surface.

Lucien had roused enough to accept another magicka potion and drag himself into his bedroll (though Inigo had to help him with his boots) by the time they returned to the antechamber of the tomb. Pascale rigged a makeshift alarm by carefully placing several empty wine bottles (courtesy of the former occupants, bandits judging by the pile of discarded coin purses in the corner) inside of a fire rune on the other side of the door. Kaidan wanted to help, but he could only sink slowly to the ground and try to not topple over as dramatically as Lucien had.

That night as he tried to find sleep, Kaidan turned the experience over in his mind, worrying at it like a dog with a bone. Lucien was aggravating in the way that only relentlessly optimistic people who had never experienced a day’s hardship in their lives could be…but he had also set about learning the skills necessary to survive on the road in a harsh land like Skyrim with nary a complaint. Lucien blurted out his thoughts, often inadvertently insulting others with his observations…but he was also just as effusive with admiration and compliments.

Kaidan rolled over and cracked one eye open. In the glow from the rocks Pascale had heated in place of a smoky fire he could just make out a mess of golden hair peeking out from the opening of Lucien’s bedroll.

You were close to death and half-mad with pain; how can you be certain of what you felt?

The images in Kaidan’s mind of the moment Lucien poured too much of himself into the healing spell were confusing and indistinct.

The emotions were vivid and raw.

Kaidan had never thought of himself as particularly likable. He had decided to be content with being respected. Keeping companions (especially paying patrons) at arm’s length had been working fine for him, and he was satisfied with it.

He was.

But in that instant Kaidan saw himself through another’s eyes, and felt another’s affection, longing and grief directed at him, something had shifted.

He did not know what to do with the warm spot that remained in the center of his chest where Lucien’s hands had been pressed just a few hours ago. Kaidan told himself it was just residual magicka burn.

It would go away by the morning.

He was sure of it.

[aelfgiure]

Okay, let's get one thing straight here - my only fault was trusting this guy. I'll give him credit, the bastard did play the long game like a fucking champion. We dated for two years. TWO YEARS! I liked him, hell, I had started to think I loved him, and that's rare for my kind.

Anyways. It started my senior year of college, right when I was applying for my advanced degree course. There was a new student club that caught my eye: "Metaphysics and Esoterica, discussions, practice, and the occasional beer." That was right up my alley, and honestly? It was the ad they put out for the recruitment picnic that got my attention, and made me laugh. The line art drawings of daemons working the grill and a harried-looking wizard shooing pixies out of the punchbowl was charming (ha!) so of course, I decided to go. Stress relief, if nothing else.

It was a good time. They had taken over one of the stone picnic shelters overlooking the lake, had a fire going in the fireplace there, it was well organized and the food was better than I expected. So was the conversation. The icing on the cake, so to speak, was the game of Cards Against Humanity with one of the players being the ouija board. I became a member, of course, and thought that this would be a nice distraction from my PhD work.

It was a nice range of ages and experience levels, from the Magus who was the chair of the Literature Department, to the nice freshman who was still figuring out what he wanted to declare as his major, trying to decide on his Path. We did a couple minor rituals and that worked out well, gave us a feel for our strengths and weaknesses as a group. It made me happy to teach people what I knew and practiced from the Ars Goetica, and by damn I learned from them too, which made it all the sweeter. The creative substitutions for making incense, for example... but I digress.

I'd been attending regularly for a semester before David approached me. Yes, I'd noticed him, tall, a little gangly, smart as hell and funny too. We were in the student union, I was swearing at my biochemistry homework and drinking tea, because oh my gods those equations, they were gonna be the death of me! He looked over my shoulder as he walked past, stopped, and quipped "would it make more sense if it was in Enochian?"

That was unexpected. I laughed out loud, and invited him to sit with me once he got his food. Somehow, his conversation wasn't a distraction, it was pleasant and helped me focus.

Of such small beginnings are mighty deeds made, hey? We studied together, started hanging out between classes and club meetings. He took his time to draw me in and I was well and truly suckered into thinking this was real, not just a means to an end. I went to his apartment, he came to my condo, we shared comic books, built Lego sets together, went to movies. I suppose my biggest mistake was in accepting him for who he was, not prying into his background or mind, but damnit, I was trying to do the human thing and he never once gave me reason to doubt him, not until the very end.

What I didn't know about him nearly killed me.

David had joined the club to recruit people to his cult, seeking out those with a little Power and a lot of ambition. Inexperienced, naïve in the ways of the occult, but willing to learn. Willing to be used as a means to an end. He'd been brought up in this cult and had decided he wanted to be in charge of it, all the way. The best way of taking over? Summoning a demon to support his coup by taking down the High Priest of the cult and using his blood to anoint David as the new High Priest.

Yeah, just as nasty as it sounds. Great people. He kept this organization secret from everyone in the club, including me, including the Magus! which, honestly, was impressive as hell. That took some talent. Plus, we were dating, I was taking it slow and he wasn't rushing me, and now I feel oh so stupid for not catching on any sooner. He was too patient, too good.

It all went down on Halloween. Full moon, wonderful weather, there were sooo many kids out doing Trick or Treats and it was glorious! David and I were going to get together after the herds of children stopped coming to my door, go out for a drink and then spend time at his place. I was in my Princess Leia costume, the Throne Room robes, the braided updo hair. Loved that look! Anyways, I met him at our favourite bar just off campus, The Library. He was dressed up as Dracula, and I told him that he should wear the formal tux more often, it looked good on him. He thanked me, and handed me my usual cocktail.

It was roofied.

When it started to hit me, I tried to excuse myself to go home, but he insisted on 'helping' me, got me into the back of his car where two of his fellow cultists were waiting for me. They had me cuffed, blindfolded, and gagged before I knew what was going on, and had me facedown on the floor of the car, under their feet so I couldn't lean out a window and scream for help. It was a long, unpleasant ride. Lots of twists and turns, out of the city - I could smell the change in the air, the scents of hay and animals. It was a mistake on their part to take so long, because I started to sober up on the way. I stayed down and limp, listening to their conversation, hoping to figure out what the hell was going on. At first I thought it was a weird practical joke, but the more I heard, the angrier I got.

They were discussing the upcoming ritual with a cheerful casualness that pissed me off, how they had cultivated me as the perfect sacrifice and what they were going to do. I nearly rose up and turned on them then, but then they mentioned the name of the demon they had chosen as their patron, and I had to fight back a laugh. They'd made a fatal mistake, and I was going to enjoy it.

As is traditional for these types, they had set up in a barn out in the middle of nowhere. At least it was weatherproof, and was in good repair, that would help. They dragged me out of the car, and I played up my 'drugged' status, staggering and mumbling incoherently around the gag. They laughed at me, pulling me along, and pulled off the blindfold so I could see what was happening.

The circle was large, set up to accommodate all thirteen of them, and the altar in the center, in the triangle. I recognised the symbols, and had to admit to myself that if they hadn't made the mistake of grabbing me, or choosing the demon they had, this would have worked brilliantly. Points for that, I guess.

They started the ceremony, doing the whole purification and donning their robes. The assholes cut away my costume and my underwear, ruining my favourite bra, damn them! Oh, they were going to pay extra for that little bit of stupid. To add injury to insult, they scourged me around the circle first, hard enough to raise serious welts but not enough to draw blood, before dragging me to the altar and tying me down.

All this time, I'm playing up the whole 'innocent sacrificial lamb' role, weeping and struggling, and begging David to stop this, I thought he loved me! sort of thing. He smirked at me, the fucker. Then he started the invocation.

Even bound and gagged, I can hum. I started adding my own note to the Summoning, and the demon arrived before he was finished. David was surprised. The demon was pissed.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS, FOOL OF A MORTAL?" her voice shouldn't have echoed the way it did, but it made every one of those assholes cringe and try to stop their ears. "YOU THINK THIS WAS A GOOD PLAN? HOW DARE YOU!"

David was sputtering, utterly shocked by the turn his perfect ritual had taken. The ropes fell away from me and I sat up, took that damn gag out of my mouth, and slung it across the floor. Across the chalk lines that made the circle, breaking them. Setting the demon free.

"Hi, mom." I tried to sound brave, but I was still a little drugged, and damn those lash marks stung. "Sorry to interrupt your night -"

"Beloved daughter, we'll discuss this later. For now, were you a willing participant in this travesty?" Her voice was low enough for me to hear, not loud enough for the cult to listen in. She picked me up and hugged me the way she did when I was a baby, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't appreciate it.

"I thought I was going to have a nice night with a boyfriend," I sniffled. "The fucker betrayed me and was going to sacrifice me, the asshole. He's no longer kin nor kind to me, neither love nor liking. Nor do I know these others here, they are strangers all, and as I do not know them nor claim them - " I looked David right in the eyes and smiled to see the way the blood drained from his face as he realized the extent of his fuck up " - as they are nothing to me, they are fair game for you, as you will."

I'll spare you the details, but I'll just say that several members of my extended family got an unexpected treat for Halloween, and mom decided that having a couple of minions around the castle would be amusing for as long as they lasted. The barn was cleaned up, all evidence erased, and the extra cars dealt with, in ways that would lead investigations away from me and the university.

Then mom took me home to get me cleaned up, healed up, and fed. It was nice to visit, the castle was just as perfect as it always was. The lesser demon attendants clucked and cooed over me as they bathed me and dressed my wounds before dressing me in one of my 'casual formal' gowns, one appropriate to a quiet family evening. Even better, I wore my true form, relaxing into my real appearance.

Dad was there, discussing something with Lord Vapula, but he excused himself when he saw me. "Little Bit! What the actual hell happened, dear? Your mother told me there was a spot of trouble?"

Lord Vapula grinned and picked me up in a warm hug. "Nibbling, how goes your study? And what's this I hear about trouble?"

He put me down on my feet as mom walked in, and he and dad bowed to her, which she waved off. "Oh, stop. Our girl had a bad night, I brought the culprit here to explain himself to you."

I could only imagine the horror in David's mind when he was dragged into the throne room, naked and in chains, to see me sitting on my throne, next to my mother and father, and my uncle. Uncle Vapula snapped his fingers and pointed at him, ordering "SPEAK, YOU IGNORANT FOOL. EXPLAIN WHY YOU WOULD DO THIS TO MY NIBBLING. IN DETAIL."

It was entertaining, for me at least, to have tea, and snacks, while lounging on the throne and watching that asshole grovel. Uncle Beelzebub showed up during the interrogation and was most helpful in wringing the truth out of the sniveling jerk. By the time it was all over, David was a shattered, cringing mess, begging for the mercy he didn't deserve.

"So you did this for power," I said, musing aloud as I descended the steps of the dais to loom over him where he trembled on the marble floor, in a puddle of his own wastes and blood.

"I - I was wrong, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I'm sorry, please, I'll do anything -" he babbled, weeping, reaching out to clutch at my ankles but not quite daring to touch. "Please, I'm so sorry, it'll never -"

I interrupted him. "Damn right this will never happen again, asshole," I snarled at him, then squatted down to grab his face in my claws and forced him to look up at me. "Do you see me? Do you see my home, my family?"

"Ye, yes, Lil- I mean, my lady, yes, I see," he was bewildered, but my touching him seemed to have given him a little hope. "You, your family and home, im, impressive, powerful, like, like you, I see now, Lady -"

I pushed him backwards, into the puddle of filth he created, gloating at the way he flinched when I stood up. "You stupid little shit. You knew I practiced the Arte. You knew I liked you. And then, then you decide to murder me for some petty little cult? Your servitude here is going to be brutal. And I'll tell you something that's going to make it much, much worse for you."

He was weeping again, trying to hold it back but failing in his self-control. I loomed over him, and spat on him, gesturing for the servants to take him away. I took my throne again, settling myself comfortably between my parents.

"I liked you, you utter fool. If you had asked me?" I let my smile grow fangs, and smirked at him. "Had you asked, I would've helped you."

His face was a blank at first, then he realized what he had thrown away, the power he had so carelessly, so stupidly, discarded. The servants dragged him away as he howled and wept, his mind shattered.

"More tea, dear?" Mom offered, and I accepted gratefully. The rest of the evening was chatting, and catching up on what I was doing at university, before I was off to bed in my old bedroom. I could hear screams and weeping rising up from the dungeon, and realized it was David, and the two louts who had helped him get me into the car. I sighed contentedly, snuggling into my comfy bed, and fell asleep, lulled by the music of vengeance.

A group of demon worshippers are about to sacrifice you but what they don’t know is that the demon they follow is your loving parent.

[bloodycassian]

Reader x Cassian - Hellish Prompt: Reader is an assassin/spy that was caught and azriel has spent months torturing her for information and can’t get anything out of her and cassian eventually goes to see who this assassin/spy is and the mating bond snaps and cassian beats the $hitt out of az bc of the mating bond instincts and rhys has to intervene and break up the fight (i was thinking this could switch between azriel’s POV at the start and then switch to cassian's POV)

AN- this was SO fun to make. Please more requests like this!! I love the idea of unexpected mates!

TW -blood/ blades.  

Drip, drip, drip. Copper smell filled the small room. Blood leaked down the drain in the floor. You wheezed a laugh bitterly and spat on the ground at his feet. Azriel's rage simmered calmly under his dark shadows. They coiled, ready to strike. Wanting to strike. The sound of your feeble laughs was practically the only sound Azriel had gotten from you for the first week of torture.  The second week was worse, even for him. Truth teller revealed nothing when he gouged into your skin from the bottom up. Truthfully, he was impressed beyond measure. But that didnt mean that he could stop the job at hand. He had to know, and wished he didnt have to do this kind of thing to get the information from you. "Listen..." He sighed, cleaning his blade. He was always nervous whenever he had a back turned to an enemy, no matter how well they were restrained. But he trusted his shadows enough to tell him if something was wrong.  "If you just.. Cooperate and tell me where the Queens are, we can let you go. No trouble, just releasing you back to Rask." He tried to keep his tone neutral, but he was nearing an exhaustion point. Torture every day for two weeks had its toll not only on the victim, but the dealer as well. His shadows seemed to be growing restless too, waiting for a chance to strike.  He watched your reaction from the corner of his eye. Noted the way your head hanging loosely seemed to gain a bit more strength before you spoke. "Losing your touch, Spymaster?" You revealed a row of bloody teeth to him, and grunted when the chains at your wrists stung the magic that weakly attempted to help you.  Azriel could have sighed. He could have laughed and bled you dry. Have a healer come and patch you up enough to keep you alive. The idea was tempting, but he didn't like having anyone besides his brothers see him in this mode of darkness. He could have brought Rhys down to attempt to break into your mind again. After the first attempt and Rhys' reaction to being blocked, he wasn't eager for that again. So he sighed, and brought out the potions laced with Faebane.  + He was convinced you weren't a normal Fae. After months of his best torture methods he was a wreck. "She just-" He tried to hide his frustration, but his brothers knew him best. Cassian smirked by the fire, warming his wings. Rhys seemed a bit more concerned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Azriel had never been one to spend a long time on torture. Rhys saw the frustration flowing from him after every session with the stubborn Fae in the dungeon cell.  "I dont know what to do anymore. She's the only one to have never broken." He ran a hand though his hair. His shadows seemed weak, exhausted like him.  Rhys considered for a moment, looking between his two brothers. Cassian seemed to be enjoying Azriel's frustration. Maybe a bit too much. Rhys sipped his wine then, with a look of innocence, "Maybe we will have Cassian end it. Perhaps seeing the Lord of Death in front of her will knock something loose."  Cassian's stare whipped to him, a silent plea on his face. "We should leave it to our expert Rhys-" Azriel laughed, cold and bitter. "The expert hasn't got a damn thing out of her. We either kill her or send her back to Rask with all the information she's collected about us. With nothing in return." Shame lined his features. The sense of failure to his high lord was a heavy weight to bear. "Cas...I expect you down there tomorrow afternoon. It will be her last chance." Rhys' no nonsense tone shut down Cassian's retort. His jaw locked with distaste. He hated the cramped cells below the house of wind. Hated the way going underground made his wings feel like they needed to stretch. The worst was when that stale air was laced with the rotting smell of dead mice or old blood. It made his skin crawl just thinking about it.  "Come on Cas, dont you want to see the only one that's outlasted me?" Az asked with a mock grin. He couldn't give the same smile back. Turmoil spilled inside him at the thought of going so far below the mountain.  + Cassian took a long time to go to bed that night. His restlessness about the next day made him wake up over and over, never having more than an hour of peace before being waken up.  Azriel held up a mug of tea to him the next morning. "You look like shit." He handed his brother the mug with a small smile. Cassian glared at him, but took it anyway. He went to the balcony, his heavy wings needing to feel the fresh air. It was like taking a bath after being covered in grime. He sighed in relief, letting the late morning sun graze his body. The cold wind from Illyria was beginning to come in for the winter, and the familiar smell ignited something in him. He felt a draw, but shoved it to the back of his mind. He knew what he had to be this day. "Why the hell do we have to keep them so far down again?" Cassian complained. Around and around and around. Down deeper and deeper into the pit of the mountain that the house above was carved out of. Cassian felt like his lungs were collapsing the further they went. He tried not to let his nerves show, but he knew Az's shadows would pick up on it anyway.  "Remember when you broke your arm chasing down that Attor?" Azriel could have laughed at that memory, but the story surrounding it made the experience soured. More shame on top of the guilt already there.  Cassian hummed in approval, welcoming the distraction the memory brought. He tried not to focus on how each turn of the staircase got darker and darker. How the air seemed to compress around him. He locked his eyes on the scar on one of Az's wings. "And we spent a week fixing the top story of that apothecary?" He asked, keeping his voice steady.  "Yes. Dont you remember how the Attor got out?" Cassian shook his head, and Azriel huffed a laugh. "I left the door open for just a second to get a new knife and..." He shook his head, part in anger and regret, part in shame. "It had escaped before I turned around. I dont know how it happened, to this day."  Cassian stared at the back of the shadowmaster's head. The dark ripples around him seemed to spike. "It happens Az, you can't be perfect."  "It's not perfection, its basic thought. After that we moved all enemies to the lower dungeons. No matter the threat. Rhys even put wards on the arches." He ran a hand over the walls, his fingers catching a few of the grooves that linked each spelled archway to the other.  Cassian left the conversation at that. At least his brother wasn't brooding as much as before. The dim lights began to come into view, and his heart began hammering. Adrenaline singing through his veins. His polished siphons glowed, reflecting red off the dark stone ceiling. He had polished all his black armor the night before, when he couldn't sleep. Something poked, prodded at him all night. Keeping him awake. He figured he may as well make use out of it.  "She's not going to talk to you unless you show..weakness first." Azriel said in a low voice. Cassian nodded, reaching the end of the stairwell with him.  Cassian couldn't see the dark figure in the cell, but he felt the presence nonetheless. The dark draw that you demanded. He wondered how Azriel had dealt with that pull this whole time. The tantalizing draw to you. He shook his head, pushed the hair out of his face and nodded to Azriel.  He opened the door, then began his ritual. At the start of every session he would toss a bucket of water over your body, then a bucket of salt. It made the wounds that handn't healed fully scream in pain. You jolted at the suddenness of it this time. "Good morning, shadowsinger." You ground out, voice rough with strain. Cassian watched in awe at his brother.  Cassian was never one for torture. There was a reason Azriel was appointed to this position. Watching the calm cruelness of him was jarring, but Cassian kept his face straight. He stood behind you, watching the flimsy attempts to pull at the shackles holding your arms up. Lacerations dotted each arm, some light pink scars. Some were still scabbing over. A chill ran down his spine.  "You have a guest today, would you like to see him?" Azriel's voice was cool, calm. Like he was speaking orders to a group of soldiers. He began slicing new lines into your arms, moving up to your neck. He had left your ears in tact, as a last resort if you refused to speak to Cassian. The pull Cassian felt was overwhelming. He walked a bit too quickly around you, plastered on a wicked smile for show, then crouched down. The smile faded when he finally saw your face. Your dripping hair was a horror on its own. Plastered to the skeletal cheekbones, and pale eyes. Those eyes were brighter than anything he'd ever seen. A field of flowers down the slope of Illyrian mountains. His world shifted, drawing the breath from him. "Mine." His mind seemed to roar with that alone, but in a thousand different variations. "Lover, friend, partner, mine mine mine. Mate. My mate." His lips quivered with the realization. With the way his heart soared, and the way he moved without realizing it. He choked a gasp, and fell forward on his knees before you. He saw the same astonishment in your reaction. Azriel dropped his sword, confusion and concern alert on his features. "Cas wh-" Before he could finish, before his shadows could detect that Cassian had even moved, his brother was on top of him. Cassian's knuckles stung with every punch. A new kind of rage flared inside him. It made his muscles yearn for violence. Made his teeth crave the flesh of those that so much as looked at you wrong. There was no mercy for Azriel, it was as if he was an enemy on the battlefield. Cassian held nothing back. You hung limply from the chains that bound you. Crunch after crunch sounded from Azriel. He eventually managed to push Cassian off of him. Then they locked together in battle again. Clashes of armor against armor were deafening. The snarls they ripped at each other were loud enough to make you cringe. Your heart squeezed at the sounds of Cassian's breath. At the scent of blood spilling. You pulled feebly at the chains, your mind roaring to protect him.  Your mate. You tried to watch the battle, but the weakness in your body refused to let you turn more than a few inches. They were panting, Cassian fighting with a ferocity Azriel had never seen. His eyes flared with rage, like he was possessed. "Cas-" Azriel grunted, shoving his brother backwards. His back hit yours, pushing you down and digging those stone cuffs into your wrists. You hissed in pain. Cassian roared and lunged at his brother again, and again.  The darkness that boomed outside the cell was jarring. The stone ceiling shuddered, small rocks and dirt falling from it. Cassian did not stop. He didn't hesitate, coming at Azriel with punch after punch. His fist crushed the wall behind where Az's head had been. 

"Enough." The high lord's cool command was enough to make you still your weak attempts at looking at the two. Cassian's chest heaved as he tried lifting his arm to punch Az again. Pure fury in his heart was enough to make him disobey Rhysand's order.

  Then Rhys' talons gripped him. Freezing his mind, stilling him. Rhys' face shifted to surprise at what he glimpsed at there. "Oh.." He breathed. Azriel panted, backing away from his brother, out of the cell. He locked the cell and wiped the blood from himself, his wings hanging limply behind him. "What- the hell." He panted, nursing his arm. Cassian's eyes locked to your small frame. How your muscles quivered, how your arms shook with the effort of holding yourself up. He felt Rhys' claws recede slowly from his mind, releasing each part of him one by one. He rushed to you.  He picked up Azriel's sword and with a clean, masterful swipe, broke the enchanted stone that bound you. The weak sigh that came from you was heartbreaking. His eyes pricked with tears, and he caught you before you could fall to the floor into the puddle of dried blood. He didnt notice, or care that it was there. He sat there with you, cradled you and shook with you. 

"Cassian... She's.. Cassian's mate." Rhys said slowly, astonished. He didn't take his eyes from his brother in the cell. Azriel froze in place. For a moment, the dungeon was completely still. Totally silent, as if the world waited for what was to come next.

Azriel turned on a heel and left, trudging up the stairs. Rhys dared not touch his mind. "Cassian...." He spoke, trying to get his brother's attention. He did not glance at Rhys, just curled around your body more. Protecting, nesting almost. Rhys knew the feeling too well from the weeks after he and Feyre's bond snapped into place.  "We will check in tomorrow. Be safe, brother." Rhys spoke to Cassian's mind. It was nothing but an ocean of rushing thoughts. Cassian could have bared his teeth, could have tried to fight his brother through the bars of the cell. Hell, he could have probably broken through those bars with the primal strength flowing through him with the rush from the bond. 

But he didn't. He stayed, his warm body pressed against yours. Those siphons glowing against your skin like a fire. He stroked your hair soothingly, his tears like rainfall on your body, through your bloodstained clothes. He didn't remember falling asleep there, but it was the most restful, peaceful night he'd ever had in his existence. 

[lazarettta]

Misthios II

Characters (Mother Miranda, Reader, Lady Alcina)

Word count (3.1k)

Rating (M)

Warning (little NSFW, language)

Did you really think that Miranda was going to let you leave so easily? Again?

Anything italicized is a flashback...this is part two to Misthios

Your time with the Vikings was fun but all good things had to come to an end. Over the years, you hadn't been too keen on letting too many people in on your secret. Your friends and makeshift family were getting older and you weren't. You were still fit for battle and as young and strong as you were twelve years ago. You knew that you'd overstayed your welcome but you weren't ready to leave until there were too many comments about you not aging a day. It had taken you a week to get your steed ready for long travel and to make sure that you had everything necessary, including the coin to purchase more supplies should you need it.

You weren't above doing odd jobs during your travels if needed. The viking children ran alongside you and your stallion as you both trotted out of the village until you were on an open road. You saluted them before taking off into a run following the lead of your war horse, allowing her to dictate your travels until she decided that she needed a break.

You had all of the time and opportunity in the land.

You traveled like that for a few days until you were coming upon a village but the path was winding and would take some time but you had plenty of daylight and were in no rush. Everything was peaceful until you came across an overturned wagon and nearly trampled over a body laying face down into the soft ground. The dark puddle around him did not indicate that the man would be rising soon.

You were quick to draw your bow and arrow, a good distance from the fight and you had an advantage in case any of them came for you. There was a black flag on the ground near the wagon but it held an insignia that you didn't recognize but you knew royalty when you saw it. The soldiers had the upper hand but there were a few of them dead as well. On the other side, you saw one of the bandits jump on the back of a horse to leave.

Without much of a thought, you raised your weapon of choice and not a second later, you felt the smooth wood of the arrow slip between your calloused fingers and you watched proudly as it found a home in the base of the man's spine, effectively halting his escape but leaving him alive for the time being but he was not without suffering.

It was at that same moment the last bandit was struck down. The remaining soldiers turned to you with their swords raised but before anything else could happen, a sharp and clear but decidedly feminine voice stopped the misunderstanding before it could happen.

A woman with light-colored long hair stepped from behind a large oak tree with two foot soldiers in tow. She didn't seem to care about the ends of her dress being sullied by the mud and blood on the trail as she made her way towards you. You climbed down from your horse when she was closer, not surprised that you were taller than she was but she wasn't that much shorter than you really.

Most other women you met that were your height or taller were fellow warriors. Her eyes were what really startled you, they were so clear they were almost white. They did not have a clear color to them, not one that you could see.

“You are a very long way from home, Viking.”

“Yes, in search of a new one.” you glanced over her shoulder briefly to the soldiers dealing with the one who tried to escape, his agonized yelling startling a nest of crows nearby.

“You don't seem like the type to miss a killing shot.”

Your gaze fell back to her unwavering one and you fought the urge to fidget under her stare even though you were the one towering over her. Her posture was none threatening and her smile had a teasing tilt to it, but her eyes...they pierced your soul, pinned you. You were unsure if you wanted to run from them or figure out how deep they went.

“I figured your King and Queen would want one alive to question.”

“The King has been dead for a long time now.” The woman tilted her head back slightly as if looking at you in a new light and you straightened your back and pushed your shoulders subconsciously and the corners of her pale lips curled a little more. “Have dinner with me tonight, viking, as a token of my gratitude. Those bandits have been quite a torn in my side for a very long time now. Thanks to you, maybe now I will find their leader.”

~~

The physical ache you felt when waking up was around your throat, well your whole neck. Your skin had long since healed over but it took the aches and bruises a while longer to go away. You don't know how long you've been unconscious but even without opening your eyes you knew that you were no longer outside on the side of a mountain which meant that she didn't kill you. But she still hurt you. You didn't know if she showed restraint because you both knew that killing you would be pointless and temporary or she truly didn't want to see you harm even if she was upset with you. You knew that it was the former.

Upset being the understatement.

You opened one eye then the other, wherever she put you it was warm if not a little moldy and it was definitely dark, you weren't quite sure if the torch on the other side of your cage helped any. Maybe it wasn't meant for you to use to see but to ensure that you wouldn't go completely insane in total darkness. It made more sense, you wouldn't want your prisoner to look around either lest they find something to use to escape.

You moved so that your back was against the stone wall, mildly surprised to find that it was a little damp. Your neck was still covered in dried blood but you didn't bother trying to scrape it off, knowing from experience that it wasn't the most pleasant feeling and one you chose not to deal with at the moment though you did pick away the random straws of hay from your skin as you'd been laying on it.

If you had to guess then you were in a basement, whether it was hers or not—you couldn't just sit there. Your backpack was long gone, you didn't have to look around your little cage to know that much. You checked for your gun not surprised to find that it was gone...she even took the damn holster.

You checked for your knife on your waist...gone. You checked the one that was hidden in your boots, or was supposed to be but it was gone too. Even after all this time, she knew you all too well. But even without weapons, a small cage like this wouldn't be enough to keep you. You just needed a plan but you had no idea where the hell you were. You reached up to feel your neck where you remembered her nails digging painfully into your flesh...

Gold plated armor, soft leathers and the finest silk that currency could purchase found themselves haphazardly tossed about all over the floor of the room. They reflected nicely against the small flames of the candles around the room.

The room was temporary, a small stop during your travels across the sea—this was merely a supply stop, but with the weather so severe, the waves were slaves to Poseidon's wrath. The ship was safer docked but she wouldn’t spend another night on board if she didn’t have to.

And didn’t, neither of you did. You were her personal champion—you went where she went. She pointed, and you left a path of bloody boot prints. Her wish was your command.

She laid bare before you, it wasn’t a sight that many were blessed with and no matter what sin you’ve committed at this woman’s whim (hell, even your own), you always thanked the Gods for giving you sight.

The fireplace is the only thing lighting up the entire room behind you both, you could feel the heat of it drying up your sweat but not all of it. You were straddling her, knees on either side of her waist—one hand on her waist and the other by her head, fingers interlaced with the hand that wasn’t reaching back clutching you tight, nails digging into your skin but that slight pain only fueled you.

Her light hair was out of its strict confines and complicated royal hairstyle, now splayed across her blemish free back and the pillows.

This was your reward; having her. You did exactly as she asked, you brought her the heads of those who crossed her and bathed in their blood and in the blood of their loved ones. You left no stone unturned simply because it was her wish.

And in return…you got her, however you wanted. But even trapped underneath you—she was never not in command. You placed your other hand next to her head as well, feeling her cool breath ghosting over your fingers turn sharp and unsteady when your hips snapped forward without warning. Her fingers tightening around yours. She tried to push back against you to take back some control but you met her attempt with untamed energy. Miranda's breathy chuckle tapered off into a mix of a growl and a moan when you did it again and again…

Shaking your head, you let it fall back on the hard wall behind you with your eyes closed. You've longed since buried those memories but they were fresh, as if they were made yesterday. The ache in your heart felt fresh too.

Then you felt it. No you felt her. Her presence was so strong, nearly suffocating and that feeling of dread was crawling up your spine again and you suppressed a strong shudder. You reluctantly opened your eyes, knowing that those eyes you fell so hard for would be looking back at you—the same eyes that tore to shreds. Even after all this fucking time...

You exhaled slowly and heavy, content to just stare at your boots, “I didn't expect to find you here of all places...”

“Would you have come if you'd known that I would be here?”

You looked up and saw that her startling bright eyes were staring back at you, still just as clear as the day you first met, “Why am I in this cage and not dead in a ditch? Besides the fucking obvious.”

She didn't say anything to you for a moment, simply standing there staring at you—drinking you in, it made your skin crawl, both good and bad. If she was bothered about you blatantly ignoring her question, it didn't show—or at least that damn mask she was wearing hid it away from you. All those emotions you'd long since buried and thought you dealt with came bubbling back to the surface like bile in the back of your throat but you kept a tight rein on it. Your explosive temper never dulled over time but you got better at containing it.

But no matter how good you were with restraining yourself, Miranda always knew. You could see it in her eyes. You hated her for it.

“I felt you the moment you arrived.” she said instead after long minutes of unblinking silence, she edged closer to your cell, unconcerned with the fact that you could lunge forward at any point and grab her. “I'm relieved to find you're still alive...and in good health?”

“Either kill me and ditch me somewhere, or just let me go, Miranda. I'm not doing this with you.”

“I cannot and will not do either, (Y/n).” she responded coolly after another minute of silence, keeping your gaze now that you've given it to her, “I just got you back, I'm not going to let you leave me so soon. Not again.”

“You didn't really give me a choice the first time!” you snapped back despite what you told yourself earlier about keeping calm and breathing, but seeing Miranda now—even more beautiful than she was before? It was too much at once. “You made that decision for both of us.” you said, much more quieter but she was close enough to have heard you perfectly fine and you were finally able to look away from those burning eyes.

“You're different.”

“The world is different.”

“Time has made you soft.”

You scoffed, “Would you like to borrow some of it? I mean...what the fuck is this? Where am I?” She regarded you calmly as if she was assessing you, but her eyes were roaming too much to be a simple assessment and you just laughed, sharp and unforgiving, you couldn't help yourself, “Do you feel guilty? Did you ever?”

“I don't have time to feel guilty!” she answered a little too quickly and you saw how her shoulders shifted slightly beneath those feathers, always a tell sign of hers that you never failed to notice and honestly you were surprised that you still even remembered her tales. She was so obviously different, you both were but this dance? While off tune and tense, was still your dance.

“Right, I see.” you tried to ignore it, you really did, but a little piece of your heart fell away at her admission because there was still a small part of you that still longed for closure.

“(Y/n)...”

“Do you even remember what you're supposed to even feel guilty for?”

“Stop it! You're not being fair!” she growled at you, pressing closer against the bars—if she pushed anymore she'd probably break the damn things, or materialize right through them but that didn't stop you from scrambling to your feet to meet her head on, refusing to let her have the full advantage.

“Neither were you! I...” you stopped abruptly, literally choking on your words and you forced yourself to close your mouth and Miranda watched every single emotion drain from your face as if you had flipped a switch and her hands balled into even tighter fists at her sides, unsure what to say and you had nothing left to say.

You two stood staring at each other, once again. Eyes locked but not a word more was said. She reached up, one hand wrapping around an old iron bar, her engraved golden nails clinking softly against the metal.

“Mother Miranda.” a firm but sinewy voice echoed around you both, calling for your attention and it was feminine but you couldn't see who it belonged to. She was just out of range of the cell entrance and you'd have to move closer to Miranda to see who it belonged to—and that wasn't something you were interested in doing, “I apologize for the interruption...but we have a problem.”

“What.” Miranda hissed, her voice no longer soft and velvet—the only way you could describe it was deity like. Stronger, harsher and it would've been scarier if you didn't know the woman behind the mask.

“That fool Heisenberg let that man thing escape the forest and he's now roaming in the village.”

“I see.” Miranda's eyes fell to you again, radiating more power than they did earlier. You'd been so busy arguing with her, you hadn't heard the other woman approach and you wondered how much of that she actually overheard, “When you are ready to talk, I will be waiting for you, my little warrior.”

“Stop calling me that!” you spat, glaring at her irritatingly, “I'm not your anything...perhaps your enemy. You'd do better by just letting me leave, Miranda because you and I both know that killing me isn't an option.”

“And I already told you. I'm not letting you leave me, not again.” she was suddenly right in front of you, inside of the iron cage and you had no fucking idea how she did that but she was too close but the stone wall behind you didn't give away, no matter how hard you pressed. Her eyes were softer now, and you actually had to crane your neck a bit to see them, even at an even six feet, “Learn the truth then you decide if you wish to leave or to stay.”

“The truth?” you scoffed, well aware that you two still weren't alone, “The truth has long since past to be of any interest to me.” you lied straight through your teeth all the while looking into her eyes, you saw a speck of emotion but it was hard to tell when they were so alive, “I don't care about your truth anymore, Miranda.”

“You may not...but I do. Did our love mean nothing to you?” you both ignored the startled noise behind you, “All those late nights and early mornings? I think about them often when this life permits me to...I...do have regrets, (Y/n)...and wishes, most never granted.” she admitted, quietly—her deity voice gone for the moment, “One of my biggest regrets and my biggest wish was you, (Y/n).”

You didn't know how to unpack that in this moment because Miranda suddenly had both her hands on the wall, trapping you as she leaned closer—you knew what she was doing, hell she even knew what she was fucking doing? Was it working? Like the fool you were—it was.

“Allow me time to settle this issue and then we will talk, (Y/n).”

You could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and you almost told her to go fuck herself...it was on the tip of your tongue but your heart was still as stupid as it was thousands of years ago. You kept your lips firmly pressed together, but nodded curtly almost reluctantly. She didn't smile, not really, but that familiar curve of her lips made you tense a little. You were a fucking idiot, and you knew it.

“Lady Dimitrescu will house you. I will send for you when I am ready.” she lingered for a second longer, seeming to want to say more. Suddenly she pushed herself away from you and walking out of your cell with ease, pushing the heavy door out of her way leaving you bewildered.

Had it been unlocked this whole time? She hadn't even bothered to retrain you, but she knew you wouldn't make a move because now she had now something to keep you behaved long enough and you agreed to it.

Ayyye Alcinnaaaa! Idk who's playing but Donna's house scary as shit. Y'all fuck with this story?

[gummygowon]

cute relationship things with ateez!

genre: fluff (a lot)

warnings: none :)

established relationship!

a/n: i meant to post this like two weeks ago but i never finished it so consider this an early valentine’s day gift <3 ;) 

seonghwa:

for some reason, i feel like seonghwa likes to read books

with that being said, on lazy days where you guys didn’t want to get up and do anything

you guys would read books !!!

before you guys would read some were recommendations from each other on your own

and then maybe rant to each other over little details about the book like how the main character went back to their toxic ex or how the ending of a book was so bad

“seonghwa, how did you even read this?!? the stupid ass main character keeps going back to that one jerk! like does she not realize she deserves more than his ugly ass???!!!?”

“y/n, just keep reading.” 

“but hwa-”

turns out the main character got with the other woman yayyyyy!!! fuck shitty men

i don’t know how it happened but you guys started your own little book club with each other

so you guys could finally talk rant together at the same time about the book

so since you guys started to read the same book and if you guys found down time together you would read together

like, imagine it’s a peaceful friday night

seonghwa is back from work and so are you

you guys already showered and ate dinner

you’re just reading and then seonghwa just scoops you up and then puts you in between his legs with your back against his chest

and you’re like “wtf bro?”

and he’s just like, “what? i wanna read too???”

“didn’t you like read ahead tho??”

“yeah, but i wanna read it again.”

that was a fatass lie

he just wanted to be close to you 

hongjoong:

ok so, we all know that this man is hella busy all the time

mans is the leader, song writer, producer, dancer, rapper (which is why he is good at all positions)

but you were patient with him and whenever he goes days without seeing you due to his busy ass schedule he would make it up to you yk what i mean

but on the more chill days when you saw hongjoong or even the days where he was cooped in his studio (you would visit him there because sometimes you just had to see him)

you guys would just lay on the couch, just enjoying each other’s presence and not feel like you have to make up for lost time

you would be on the bottom on your phone or reading a magazine/book

then hongjoong would be at the top with his head on your stomach as he would be writing down lyrics that came to mind

killing two birds with one stone you feel me

sometimes you would show him a funny meme that you found or quote something that you just read to him 

“hongjoong, look at the way he fell!” you would be dying of laughter

and then he wouldn’t notice because he was really roped into making lyrics 

but you also didn’t see him focusing so much because you were of course laughing at the kid that accidentally got bitchslapped off the couch because of their sibling

“joongie look!!!”

“what is it?”

you would then show him what happened and then he would look at with that “you really interrupted me for this??” type of look

“i just lost my train of thought for this song because you wanted to show me this kid falling off of a couch???” 

“yes?” 

he would just bring a hand to his face and think what tf? why tf? and then slowly start laughing because of what just happened

“see, wasn’t it funny?”

“a child getting hurt isn’t funny, y/n” he would laugh while scolding you

yunho:

yunho powers im sorry for this one

alright so, it’s night time 

you guys are about to go to bed after a long day or work/school whatever

your eyes are fluttering closed because the day got you beat beat

but then yunho just kisses your face

and then you open your eyes slowly again to see yunho look like he just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do

like imagine a kid that just got caught drawing on the walls

that’s what his face would look like

he’s just laying there like “i thought you were asleep...”

“i was just about to...”

yunho feels lowkey guilty now because you’re awake now and he knows you had a long day

he just couldn’t resist kissing you 

you just looked so pretty and peaceful sleeping 

mans was reminded by the universe themself about how lucky he was being able to date you

like, godamn what did he do in his past life to deserve you?

ok, back to this reaction idea thing-

yunho would apologize for waking you up with his cheeks a nice rosy color

you just look at him with tired eyes 

“i’ll forgive you, if you give me more kisses.”

and yunho’s smile just lights up the whole damn room and he’s like oh? say less

so he goes to kissing your face

like all over

your nose

your cheeks

forehead

basically anywhere ok?

and you end up laughing because it tickles 

but you just want him to kiss your lips which he does 

... eventually lmao

but when he does your still laughing which causes him to laugh

he tells you “i love you, did you know that?”

and you get all flustered and shit but you still keep that playful energy around 

“i love you too, but you aren’t forgiven just yet”

which leads to more kisses :))))

yeosang:

ok so you’re now the busy one

yeosang has so much respect for you because holy shit how do you balance that busy ass schedule of yours

your homework loads were no jokes 

then to add to that you have a job which was even more stressful

it was amazing how you can manage all that and still keep a smile on your face

you also had major respect for yeosang as an idol

the industry was not a place to fuck around 

you couldn’t be happier that your boyfriend was lucky enough to have a group who actually cared and supported each other

speaking of ateez, yeosang isn’t the most touchy person in the world

you didn’t mind of course, you’re the same way

however, when he did give you cuddles and kisses you would be a blushing mess

a sort of rare sight that yeosang loved to see

anyways, one night you were busy writing those argumentative essays that you were sure that your fingers would fall off by the time you were finished

you were working on it ever since you got home from school (with the occasional food and bathroom breaks )to the time when yeosang came back from practice

you moved to your shared bed by the time the sweaty boy came home and he was surprised that you were working on one subject for so long

the stupid piece was almost finished by the time yeosang was out of the shower

however, you didn’t even notice

you were too immersed in your writing to notice

yeosang took this as an opportunity to sit behind you and wrap his arms around your waist and watch over your shoulder as you worked

and of course, he would kiss your cheek occasionally

this was super sweet gesture but yeosang but you didn’t the notice that he wrapped his arms around you

“ai yah! what the hell?” you yelled and turned around to see your boyfriend clutching his chest

“oh it’s just you.”

yeosang would give you a deadpanned look and be like, “yeah, who else tf???”

you would apologize and kissing his cheek before returning to back to work 

which yeosang would return to hugging your waist and keep his head on your shoulder

and give you occasional kisses on your cheek or neck

after that night, it became a weekly occurrence

which you loved of course, who wouldn’t love their bf cuddling them while they chased their bag

san:

i am very excited for this one

ok so, san loves playing with your hair

it’s just so much fun 

running his fingers through it or just attempting to braid it or put it into a tiny ponytail

he loved it

he would probably always play with your while you were watching tv together, sitting together in the car, or even before you guys fall asleep

then one day after san came home early from work 

you guys were chilling on the bed watching the latest k-drama that came out since san made you wait so you guys could watch it together

san was in between your legs with his back leaning against your chest 

and that’s when you decided to run your fingers through his soft, fluffy hair

that’s also when san asked you to braid his hair

“sure, what type of braid though?”

“there’s different kinds????” 

“yes, san. now pick one.” you gave him your phone that was pulled up to different types braids.

“i want the french ones. they sound fancy.”

you roll your eyes and start sectioning his hair into two sections and start braiding his hair and lightly pull on the pink strands because you know san likes his hair pulled

so you doing his hair right 

and you begin rambling about your day/week

talking about whatever interesting happened to you because you know that san likes hearing you talk no matter what it’s about

however, you were knee deep into talking about the latest drama at work that you didn’t even realize that san stopped talking

“san?”

he didn’t answer and his head would be dipping down so low you were surprised you didn’t fall over

“baby?”

san still wouldn’t respond to you 

but this time he just flipped over so his head would be on your stomach as he wrapped your arms around your stomach

“mmmmmmm?”

“nevermind love, just sleep.” 

he would respond by burying his head further into your stomach and tightened his hold around you

you kissed his head and ran your fingers through his hair which lulled san to sleep even more

“goodnight sannie.”

mingi:

you have been best friends with song mingi ever since you moved into the tiny neighborhood that you call home

it all started when your parents brought you over to your next door neighbor’s house for breakfast on a cold saturday morning 

you were extremely shy when you were little so the only thing you could remember about your first experience with mingi was hiding behind your mother’s leg for the first hour of being there and watching the young boy play with his toy cars and planes before he finally offered a pirate ship to you

ever since that unforgettable saturday, you pretty much spent the rest of your childhood with mingi

you guys were practically joined at the hip 

even when you were getting endlessly teased by your classmates for the first month of school for having an accent whenever you spoke 

which resulted in you running to the bathroom crying

not even a minute later, you heard someone burst through the girls’ bathrrom

“y/n?”

you peaked your head out of the stall to see your tall neighbor looking out of breath

“mingi, you aren’t supposed to be here!” you said in between sobs

“it’s okay, i don’t care.” he said as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around you. “are you okay?”

you shook your head no looking at him with tears running down your face

the poor boy was internally freaking out since he has no clue on how to comfort people (especially if they’re a girl)

he was like eight at the time give him a little break

so of course, his first reaction was to make you laugh somehow

and he did this by randomly recreating the “boots and cats, boots and cats” rhythm after seeing siri do it in a youtube video and started to bop his head 

surprised by his sudden movements, you laughed out of pure confusion

as soon as mingi saw the corner of your lips flip upwards he began rapping faster to the point where he was gasping for breath leading him into a coughing fit 

“mingi you can breathe, y’know!” you giggled in between words

after the young boy had caught his breath from hacking away at his lungs, he smiled at you 

until- the teacher had came into the bathroom, scolding mingi for going into the girls’ restroom

even though mingi didn’t care at all that he got in trouble, the only thing he cared about was that you were feeling better

ever since then whenever you were sad or having a bad day mingi would whip out his phone and ask siri to rap while he free-styled over the monotone voice 

he literally still does it

even two years into your relationship-

“siri, can you rap for me?” mingi would ask his phone as he pointed his free arm at you

“boots and cats-”

“mingi, please no.” you laughed in between tears, your mood rising with every beat

wooyoung:

i wholeheartedly believe that wooyoung would kiss you face if you were sad

but the first time this happened, you guys were still fairly new into your relationship

which meant that you weren’t completely ready to be extremely vulnerable around wooyoung 

because in your mind, letting someone see you at your lowest lows of means that you really trust and love someone to let them see you like that

you always wanted to be known as the strong person in the friend group

you were that glue that held everyone together

always listening to others and taking care of others before yourself

which is why wooyoung fell in love with you in the first place

he had never been in a relationship where someone was so caring and thoughtful of others that he was scared that he wouldn’t be enough for you and that you deserved better

of course, he didn’t tell you that right away but he confessed to you about that wayyy later in your relationship which is another story to be told

but one day, life was coming at you so fucking fast

assignments were piling up left and right and deadlines were literally every other day

and then there seemed to be an increase in the amount of angry karens at your work

and your patience was thinning everyday with those people

then to top it all off, all the tests you’ve been studying for, you got mediocre grades, some even worse in other subjects

it just felt like no matter how much work you put into whatever you do, you got half ass results

it was just pushing your mental health further into the ground

you could handle a C every once in awhile but multiple? on back to back tests? no fucking way you just couldn’t

those stupid, dark thoughts would cloud your mind in an instant and on days like this, you would just let them consume you

you were too tired to pick yourself up again and fight back which led to you crying in wooyoung’s arms

usually, you would feel so embarrassed crying over things like this when you know other people have it worse but you couldn’t hold in it anymore 

you ranted about yourself in between your hiccups from crying which would hurt wooyoung’s heart a little bit

because he thought of you as such a strong and kind person- the complete opposite of what you were saying about yourself

so when you were done talking, wooyoung made you look at him and assured you that you were not any of those nasty things that you said about yourself

each insult turned into a thoughtful compliment accompanied by a kiss

“y/n, you are so intelligent-” 

kiss

“caring-”

kiss

“beautiful-”

kiss

“more than everything i ever wanted”

kiss

by the time wooyoung was done, you were a giggling mess

“and this is why i love you.”

he finally kissed you on your lips, smiling into it like the dork he is

it was the first ever time he told you that he loved you

jongho:

i am also a firm believer that jongho would sing his s/o to sleep

like with that heavenly voice of his, he better put them to sleep 

so on the first night you ever slept with jongho, you were too nervous to go to bed even though your body was screaming at you to close your eyes 

you kept tossing and turning every few minutes or your eyes would shoot open with your heart racing

at this point, you gave up on trying to sleep and got up (carefully to not wake up your sleeping boyfriend) to get a drink

while you were in the kitchen, clutching your chest in an effort to get yourself to calm down, jongho had stirred awake to an empty bed

a flash of panic surged through his body as he momentarily forgot where he was since he wasn’t at his dorm his room never looked this clean 

yawning, the vocalist would wander into the light with his eyes squinted, “y/n?”

“oh my god!” you jumped, water almost spilling out your glass

jongho covered his ears, “what are you doing up?”

“oh,” you felt your cheeks turn red since you felt bad for waking your boyfriend up. “i can’t sleep.”

“why?” he asked, walking towards the couch.

“i don’t know.” you answered as you followed close behind. 

you curled up next to jongho, clutching his shirt “i’m sorry for waking you up.”

jongho smiled tiredly at you before kissing your head, “don’t be. it’s okay. i don’t have work tomorrow anyways.”

you smiled in response before the two of you guys fell into a silence

“do you want me to sing you to sleep?”

“yes, please.” you murmured into his side as jongho placed his other arm around you, successfully trapping you in between his arms

he began singing softly into your ear as he stroked your hair

his warm voice coaxing your eyes to close 

at last, your mind was at peace with itself

your heart beat slowing down

and by the time the song was finished you were fast asleep in arms

jongho kissed your forehead once more 

“i love you.”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Word Count: 1,421 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader Gender: Unspecified Era: Alexandria Summary: Daryl comes in after a run and needs stitches and is surprised when you, the only doctor in Alexandria, mention feeling trapped inside the walls. 

Warnings: None really!

Your name: submit What is this?

You looked up as you heard the door open and approaching footsteps. The broad-shouldered archer was passing through the doorframe and his arm was bound with a scrap of cloth, stained rusty red. You sighed and gave him a knowing look. “Daryl, I told you, we really have to stop meeting like this,” you joked sardonically. You thought you saw one corner of his mouth twitch upward briefly and there was a pink flush in his cheeks as he ducked your gaze.

You pulled some gloves on and walked over as he sank down in a chair. “Alright, what did you do to yourself this time?” you asked, starting to untie the scrap of fabric on his upper arm. You winced as you took in the deep gash. “Ouch,” you murmured sympathetically.

Daryl couldn’t stop bouncing his leg and he chewed the side of his thumb as you inspected the injury. “S’nothin’,” he mumbled. You shot him another look, this time with your lips forming a soft pout, and you waited until his blue eyes met yours, trying your hardest to ignore the fluttering in your stomach this man always caused.

“This is not nothing,” you said, turning and heading over to the supply shelf. “Are you going to tell me what happened or do I need to get Rick in here?” you called over your shoulder. You grabbed a bottle of alcohol, cotton pads, and some suture supplies and headed back over to Daryl, pulling up a stool beside him.

“Mmm,” he hummed, trying to figure out how to tell you what had happened without worrying you more than you obviously already were. “Knife,” he drawled.

You’d been pouring some alcohol onto a cotton pad and you froze as you registered what he had just said. Daryl bit his bottom lip anxiously. He saw how you had tensed and your brow furrowed at his words. You resumed your care with another small sigh, sweeping the cotton over his arm and cleaning the dried blood and dirt from his skin. “Last time I was outside the walls, walkers didn’t carry knives. Has that changed?” you asked softly.

He let out a huff. You obviously knew the answer to that.

You made sure to flush the gash in his arm out thoroughly. Daryl didn’t even flinch at the burn of the alcohol. Sometimes you swore the man was made of stone.

“When was that anyway, doc?” he asked, hoping for a change of topic.

You were threading the sterilized needle and paused to consider him for a long moment. “Two weeks ago,” you said, averting your eyes from his. You didn’t see the flash of surprise on his face, but you didn’t need to.

“Ya went out there? Why?” There was a sharp edge to his voice.

“I just… did.”

Not much of an answer. Daryl turned and studied you as you began stitching him up. Your focus gave him leave to take in the colors in your eyes, the curve of your long lashes, the slope of your nose. His body responded with a flush of heat to his core and he ripped his eyes away again. “Ya shouldn’t be doin’ that,” he said.

“How is it any different than you going out there?” you challenged him. Your eyes met his and held the gaze firmly.

“I ain’t a doctor. I ain’t got a whole town of people relyin’ on me to be there if shit goes sideways,” he responded. His tone was harsh again, but you didn’t quail beneath it.

“I would argue that, actually, you do,” you said, placing another skillful stitch in his arm. “You get food and supplies that we need. Keep us all safe. But more than that—we like having you around.”

Daryl scoffed and looked down at his filthy boots, leaving chunks of mud on your clean, clinical white floor. “Ain’t the same. Rick or Abraham or Glenn could do all that anyway. ”

You sighed heavily again and placed a couple more stitches in his arm. “It is the same,” you said gently. You reached for a cotton pad and dabbed at some blood around the injury. “What if—what if suddenly someone told you that you weren’t allowed to leave Alexandria? What would you do?”

Daryl met your eyes, his blue ones narrowed as he puzzled over your question. “I’d tell ‘em where they could shove their opinion. I’d be gone the next damn minute.”

You nodded, resuming your ministrations. “Right. Now, imagine the same scenario, but instead of being able to tell them to shove it, you have to agree because you’re the only doctor and surgeon at the settlement, and that title is more important than anything else about you. It’s more important than the fact that you feel trapped or claustrophobic inside the walls. It’s more important than the fact that you survived on your own out there for so long you didn’t think you’d be able to come back from it. It’s more important than—” you broke off with a sigh, your face contorting a little as you realized you’d said too much. Daryl was carefully watching your expression. You bit your bottom lip anxiously and placed the last stitch in his arm. “All done,” you said, scooting back on the stool. “Just let me put some antibiotic stuff on it and wrap it up.”

Daryl nodded and took a look at the stitches in his arm. They were small and skillful, the result of well-practiced hands. He was turning your words over in his mind. He’d never thought about the burden that came with being a doctor in this time… there was a burden with it. A doctor was so needed, so valued, they kept you tucked away inside the walls without thought for your freedom or what you wanted. It was like they didn’t value you as a whole, but just as an entity that could heal and save when needed. And, sure, you were always wanting to help, wanting to do everything you could. How many times had Daryl come back beat to hell in the middle of the night, thinking there was no way you’d be in the clinic, that someone would have to run and wake you up. But he would walk in and find you slumped over some medical text, just “studying” as you called it. But it all came at a cost.

You returned and applied some ointment over Daryl’s stitches before wrapping his arm in gauze. You picked up the strip of fabric he had bound it with and shot him a look, a half-smile on your lips that sent his heart fluttering. “Your shirt is missing a piece. You want this back,” you joked.

He rolled his eyes at you and you laughed at the reaction, which made his heart jump. He tried to ignore it.

“So, I’m good?” he asked.

“You’re good. Just—”

“Try to keep it dry. Ya, I know…” He stood up and you expected to see the back of his broad-shoulders when next you looked up, but instead he was still standing there, considering you with a thoughtful look on his face.

You felt a lump form in your throat and you tried to swallow it. “What?”

He chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “I get it, ya know. Bein’ trapped in the walls… I wouldn’t like it either. Hell, I wouldn’t stay. But ya shouldn’t go out alone. So, next time I’ll go with ya. Just say when.”

You stared at the archer, perplexed.

“I couldn’t stay in here all the time. I get it.”

You nodded. “Okay. Thanks.” He nudged his nose up at you in a classic Daryl nod, drawing a smile from you which sent those annoying flutters in his stomach going. “Hey—I mean what I said earlier though.” He gave you a questioning glance. “We have to stop meeting like this,” you teased him. “I’m starting to think you’re getting injured just so you can come by.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at you, his cheeks and ears distinctly pink. “See ya later, doc,” he mumbled.

“Later.” Apparently, you had yourself a chaperone. And you weren’t disappointed at the thought of spending more time with the stoic man. Maybe this was the start of something.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Emotion (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: Kakashi again...can't get enough of this mans tbh. U r an empath due to your kekkei genkai and Kakashi has always been difficult to read. Friend to lovers. Sharing one bed folks, we got some steamyyy shit here. Angst warning as well.

Word count: 6000

He was always alone. Ever since his childhood, he walked the world completely alone with only a few people there to support him. No mother, no father, no mentor, no teammates. He was at the mercy of fate his entire life, things being stolen from him time and time again. 

He just prayed that he could keep her. Y/N L/N, the only woman to have wormed her way into his heart and made a home there.

When they first met, Kakashi and Y/N, she cursed him for being such a weirdo. Apparently his mind was empty and his heart was seemingly full of sand. He was conditioned that way, and that is how he lived for the longest time. It wasn't a surprise for him to hear that.

But she thought it was stranger than anything she'd ever seen, and so she followed him. She would figure him out, bring him back down to Earth from his supposed high horse. That woman was determined, and frankly he didn't mind her being around. She was quiet enough that it didn't matter. Not to mention on the missions they had together, she was quite the partner.

Over time, she'd learned to read him like a book. It was part of her clan's kekkei genkai. The ultimate empath, I suppose. The ability to read a persons every single emotion and then turn that, if they so choose, into power. 

She was never the greatest fighter, but her negotiation skills were the best they could possibly be. She would dive into the emotions of another and manipulate them backwards and forwards to get what she wanted. 

It was overwhelming, walking into a room of people and immediately being bombarded with so many feelings coming at her all at once. Occasionally, if the situation was bad enough she'd have to take a seat and clear her mind, organizing each person in her mind like a filing cabinet of empathy.

But damn, did she try to weasel out every bit of feeling she could. It was just something that came so naturally, she couldn’t help but instigate whatever was brewing up inside him.

"Kakashi, if you're happy, you know you're allowed to express it. You don't have to hide it away," she told him, staring at the masked man sitting across from her at the table. He was watching as she sharpened her kunai, and she could feel the content running off his body in small bursts. He was feeling better. Better than he had in a little while. Of course she picked up on it.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. She was always reading him, he knew that. He just preferred when she refrained from mentioning it. It did, most times, feel like a bit of an invasion of privacy, how she could deep dive into the corners of his mind. There were things no one else could ever possibly know that she did. It was strange, but he was used to it.

"What? Want me to smile or something?"

"No, but you should let yourself go. Just drop the facade."

"Stop doing that. Getting into my head."

Quietly, she set down her blade and picked up the next one, taking a cloth and softly wiping away any dirt. Her eyes slide up to his for a moment, her all knowing gaze filling his vision. "It's basically impossible. Especially if you're the only one around. There's nothing else to focus on except you." He knew that. It wasn't like she had an on or off switch. That was the downside of this dojutsu. Unlike sharingan and byakugan users, hers was always pulling the strings of her brain.

"You've got that mission next week. With Naruto and a few of the other kids, right?"

"Yes."

"It's A rank, isn't it?"

She hummed in agreement. He had a habit of knowing about all her missions, more importantly being the dangerous ones. He wasn't necessarily scared for her, probably not. He was more cautious than anything. There was this nagging feeling in his head that he shouldn't let her go on these missions alone. That it was too dangerous for her to handle. 

But he was wrong. She was stronger than he thought, and could hold her own in battle. He was just a worrier. He'd just lost too many, seen too many bodies in front of his eyes to trust. God, he wanted to trust her, but he couldn't. She was too vulnerable. His friend, one of the only ones who hadn't died yet. For all he knew, her days numbered, that's how paranoid he was about everything.

"You'll be careful?"

"That's a silly question." He gave her a look that said he was more serious than anything, and she sighed. "Of course I'll be careful. I have people that would miss me if I wasn't." He was one of them. She could sense his fear whenever she said goodbye and his relief when she returned. He really tried to remain objective, but his heart said otherwise. 

And she would be a liar to say that she did not experience the same relief seeing him come home from missions, even if he was beaten and bruised to the bone, she was just happy he made it back. So many never got to come home. It was a sick world, they lived in, but she could relish in the little comforts.

"Don't worry about me. I'll always turn out fine. It's you and your dumb students we have to worry about."

"I hear you. Those kids are enough to drive a person mad." He rested his chin in his palm, the mere thought of those kids causing his blood pressure to rise.

"Thankfully my students never gave me any trouble. Sweet little things."

"Well, aren't you just lucky, Y/N?"

"What can I say? Kurenai and I got the luck of the draw with our students. You men had it rough, I have to admit," she laughed. It was funny that he was so unfortunate to have gotten assigned the Uchiha and the Uzumaki, two completely opposite but persistent forces. "Despite your perverted tendencies and your perpetual lateness, you still did a great job teaching them."

"Thanks. But do you really have to call me a pervert? I'm really not."

"Yeah? That explains why you read porn in public. Admit you're a pervert, you dumb old man."

"We're the same age-" he began to argue, but she just cut him off with her harsh words.

"Creep," she muttered, running the sharpening stone along her blade. He narrowed his eyes. She was being awfully annoying, and he knew she could sense his irritation building up. Yet she continued just to be a pain in the ass.

 He warned, "Hey. Watch it, L/N."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop...Pervert." She ducked her head when his hand reached out to wring her around the neck for being so frustrating, and she continued to laugh. It was nice, having a friend she could joke with and be around without having to worry about what she said. He might pretend to be mad, but she could feel the happiness still rolling off his body thickly under all that fake neutrality. 

He was happier than he'd been in a long while, and she found herself swelling with pride knowing that she might have helped make that happen. Her lips curled into the gentlest of smiles as she peered back up at him, and he found himself smiling back even if it was just through the mask. 

He swore in that moment, he'd make sure Y/N didn't end up like all the others. She would live. He'd break this wretched curse just for her. He was sure of it.

______

"How could you be so reckless?! Do you want to die?" Kakashi shouted at his friend who could only stand there angrily, arms crossed over her chest and one foot in the other direction. She didn't need to be lectured by someone who took just as many risks every single mission as she did.

"Kakashi, I really don't want to hear it. You have no idea how it went."

"Yeah but Naruto does, and we were just talking."

She placed her free hand over her chest and exclaimed even angrier than before, "You're going to trust a kid over me? Naruto even?" It was just low to trust Naruto when she was right there to explain herself. Just let her speak for once, she wanted to say but he of course, had something else to say.

He waved his arm toward the ramen shop, eyes glaring. "Don’t be rude. He's right there. What is wrong with you?"

Indeed, Naruto was sitting inside Ichiraku with Jiraiya at his side, munching on pork ramen while the pair fought outside. Kakashi was eating with them, taking a break from his work to just relax with his master and student when out of the corner of his eye he noticed Y/N stumbling down the street on her crutch. 

He heard when she got back home that she was in the infirmary for a couple days. He had no idea for what reason until Naruto explained to him what happened. She was being needlessly reckless on the battlefield, relying too much on her kekkei genkai and not enough on her brain. She threw herself right in the way of an enemy, for what reason, he didn't know. All he knew was that she could have died and she didn't seem to care one bit.

Rightfully so, he was mad. Normally he preferred not to make a scene in the open like this, but there wasn't anyone else around and he was red-hot.

She huffed. "He knows I don't mean anything bad by that. How could he not? I'm also his sensei, you know."

"Doesn't matter," Kakashi brushed off her words. "What you did was dangerous and you don't seem to care. Next time what are you gonna do? Run right into the arms of the enemy?"

"No, I would never. Kakashi, you're just being a jerk right now. I'm literally injured from the hip down and you have to yell at me? Jeez, just be grateful I'm alive, okay? Things happen," she tried to reason with him, but he didn't acknowledge it. He wasn't exactly feeling all that rational.

"Things don't just happen like that."

She groaned, "Well apparently they do, because it happened to me."

His eye narrowed and she noticed the way he clenched and unclenched his fists a couple times by his sides. Clearly he was just trying to channel his anger, but he really had no reason to be so upset. She hadn't done anything to him. He really needed to relax. "This is so like you L/N's. Always so emotional. Always thinking you're stronger than you actually are."

"Excuse you-"

"Get a grip, you aren't going to live forever."

"First off, don't interrupt me. Second, don't talk about my clan ever again, you hear me, Hatake? We don't live to please your dumbass," she cursed, how dare he say shit about her clan. That asshole. He was just being so...so unlike himself. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but she hated it and just wanted to continue on her way before he said something else stupid. 

Normally, she didn't expect to be bombarded in the street nearly the second she leaves the hospital, but Kakashi never fails to surprise her.

"I've got to go. Don't bother following me." With that, she took off past him, rushing as fast as she could on her crutch, which was pathetically slow. Silently, she cringed at how ridiculous she must look waddling around like this in a fit of rage. Nevermind that. She had better things to do.

He huffed out the breath he had been holding to walk back into the ramen shop, taking his seat beside Naruto and slouching down into the stool. Immediately, Master Jiraiya met his eyes, wisdom about to drip from his tongue once again. "You need to go apologize."

"Why? She clearly doesn't want that right now."

"Well, to start, you insulted her clan which is a big no-no. Imagine saying that to an Uchiha. You're lucky she let you off so easily."

"Yeah, Kakashi. You kinda just attacked her out there in the street," Naruto added.

Jiraiya continued, "Mainly though, the longer you let her stay angry, the worse it'll be for you in the end. Trust me."

"She said don't follow her."

"And you're actually going to listen?" The older man laughed. "You and her fighting reminded me a lot of young Tsunade and I. And let me tell you, you don't just let a woman like that go. I sure did. It’s not a fun time."

"Yeah, Kakashi sensei, go find Y/N."

The jounin stood from his stool and slapped a ramen voucher onto the counter top to pay for his meal. This really didn't seem like a good idea, he had to admit. But he would trust the process. This was the author of his favorite romance series, after all. How could he get something like this wrong? To put blind faith into Jiraiya on realistic romantic matters was probably the not the wisest thing to do, but it was the only thing he had to go on. "I'll go, but this doesn't sound like good advice."

"If you let this go, she's might run into the arms of another man for comfort. Do you want that?"

Tch, there was no way she was gonna do that. She barely had any friends. If anything she would go see Kurenai. Still, he pulled back the cloth at the entrance and muttered, "I gotta catch up to her."

"'Atta boy," Jiraiya cheered, waving off the copy nin. "Another bowl, Naruto?"

"Yes, please!"

Kakashi walked down the streets, looking for the woman he was sent on a mission to find and apologize to. He searched through the shops and the stands for her, walked by her apartment no sign of her. It wasn't until he stumbled by the bookstore that he found her eyeing down the display out front, leaning comfortably on her crutch.

"Y/N," he called to her, and he watched as she tensed up without a second. He caught up to her, walking to stand beside her in front of the store windows. "I need to talk to you."

"What do you want?" She questioned, peering over at him with a quirked brow. He seemed calmed down by now. Thankfully. "Also, didn't I tell you not to follow me?"

"You did, but Jiraiya told me to apologize."

"So this isn't even on your own accord, you're doing it because Jiraiya told you so." He groaned. Of course she would twist his words and find some way to make things bad on his end. She was angry with him, what did he expect to happen? Her to accept him with open arms?

"Listen, I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just overwhelmed."

"With what? I wasn't paying attention to anything but the anger." She picked at her finger nails in an attempt to remain casual, but really she was just itching to hear what he had to say. She was willing to give him a second chance, only because he was normally so sweet. This was just out of character for him.

He replied, "I was scared for you. Naruto told me about how you nearly died, and I was upset that you did that. I was upset because I could only think about what if you had been overpowered and the enemy killed you." His explanation was weak, but he hoped she would accept it as truth. He really wasn't lying. When he heard she was in the hospital indefinitely, he nearly had a heart attack himself. He worried for her every time she left on a mission without him. It just meant that if she failed, he wasn't there to protect her himself. He couldn't handle that thought.

"So you were worried?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's sweet of you, isn't it?"

"I'd miss you, you know. If you died."

She froze. That wasn't what she expected him to say. When she looked over at him, he was just staring into the storefront window, but she could feel the sadness in waves running off his body. She wobbled around on her crutch to face him, a hand getting coming up to rest on his shoulder. "It's okay."

"I don't want you going on missions without me because every time it scares the shit out of me thinking they'll bring you back dead. Every time. I don't know why."

"It's normal to worry for your teammates."

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"Ah." And she felt it. Even if it was just a little hint of something, she felt his infatuation roll off his body and she took it in like a drink of cold water. So refreshing. Was he attracted to her? She had no idea before this that he cared so much but from the sound of it, he had some strong feelings attached. She wanted to reach out and hug him, tell him it was going to be okay, but that felt too personal. Instead, she leant back and muttered, "You know, Kakashi, I worry about you too."

"It's good we both have someone who cares, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I should be on my way, but, uh, if you need some help getting up to your apartment-"

"I should be fine."

"Okay, good."

"Yeah, so uh, see you," she turned on her heel and started heading in the other direction toward her home when suddenly, his hand reached out to stop her. 

"Wait, Y/N. I think..."

"What is it?"

"It's just that I need you. Please be careful from now on."

She stopped, turning around just enough to get a good look at his face. He only watched her, a glimmer of something she didn't recognize in his eye. 

"As long as you take care of yourself too, Mister."

"Y/N, I…"

All she could feel was a rough fabric rubbing against her face for a second before the full picture came into view. 

Mask to lips. I repeat, mask to lips.

She stared at him, as he kissed her right there in front of their favorite bookstore. When he pulled away after a second, he seemed just as shocked as she was. She pressed a hand to her forehead and struggled to find the right words to say. 

Kakashi Hatake just kissed her. 

And she definitely liked it. More than any other kiss she’d ever had before. She loved it. Mask or not, that was one of the best surprises of her entire life, and she honestly had no idea how to react. She settled for the easiest possible thing, running in the opposite direction, give herself time to think over what that meant for the two of them if anything at all. Kakashi wasn’t the type to have a girlfriend, he was always single. There just wasn’t room in his life for her.

There was plenty room in her life to fit him in comfortably. And there was more than enough room in her bed as well. 

Flustered, with heat coming to sit in her cheeks and run up her neck, she turned and motioned in the direction of her home. She just had too many thoughts to sit here and pretend she wasn’t dying inside from the tension.

"I've got to run home now," she managed to say. "Well, not run, with these crutches and all, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I should be going too. I'll see you around,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. 

"See you."

And into separate directions they went, just as confused as ever.

______

"Kakashi, I swear to God, if you don't stay on your side of the bed, I'm gonna-

"You'll what? Hit me? Go ahead. You're the one that keeps snoring."

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, rolling over in the bed and planting her fist directly in the middle of his chest. He didn't even flinch, she hadn't meant to hurt him anyway. She was just so annoyed. You would think that the stoic Hatake would be easy to sleep beside but no, he was a pain in the ass. He was rude. He was way too hot under the sheets. He still smelled like dog even after taking a bath. Just overall a bad experience, definitely 0 out of 10.

"What? It's the truth."

She groaned, throwing one of her arms over her eyes, burying her nose in the crook of her elbow. "Whatever. Don't ever mention my snoring again. It’s embarrassing me." She was self-conscious. She was usually so good at maintaining a cool and calm presence and now Kakashi was seeing that all crumble. Great. 

"Fine."

"Can't you just stay on your side so we can both sleep comfortably?"

"Can't you just stop snoring so I can sleep comfortably?" 

What a bastard. She could practically feel him snickering beneath his mask, and she felt frustration bubbling up in her chest. He was annoying. The audacity of this man, laughing and causing trouble in the night when they clearly had a mission to continue tomorrow. She could actually feel the delight radiating off his form.

She jumped up from her spot and threw herself onto the man beside her, attempting to make a vicious grab for the throat so she could maybe shut him up for just a few seconds. He dodged easily, taking her wrists in his calloused hand and lowering them to rest on his chest. Still, he continued to laugh at her. She felt like an utter joke sitting there on his stomach, looking at him through loose strands of her hair. 

She grumbled under her breath, her cheeks puffing out full of embarrassment, "Stupid."

"Me? Stupid? Look at you."

She replied swiftly, "What about me? You're the one with that ugly grin on your face." Quickly, she snatched her hands out from under his to cross her arms over her chest. She rocked back a bit on her knees to get a better look at his indeed ugly face. 

Except he definitely wasn't ugly, and that grin was more devilishly handsome than anything else. And honestly, she felt herself starting to get flustered in the position she'd put herself in. Of course she didn't hate Kakashi. He was one of her friends and coworkers. It was just that sometimes he could be casually attractive and she found herself falling under his spell. 

He just looked so fucking good lying there, staring up at her with a glimmer in his dark eyes. She could see the smile outlined under his mask. His hands had felt warm and firm around her own fingers. She missed his touch, there she said it, any touch on her body from Kakashi Hatake felt like heaven. He was far too cute, and the soft contact between them drove her crazy.

She wanted to punch herself for thinking such silly things. This was Kakashi, one of her frenemies. Not boyfriend material. Stupid. Silly. 

If only he didn't look so good, Jesus christ. Get your brain out of the gutter, Y/N.

Little did she know, his mind was already waist deep in those damn gutters and he was loving it.

"You really think that?"

"What? That you're ugly?" She asked, tilting her head to the side just a bit as if to think about it. Only a second later, another mischievous smile crossed her lips. "Of course."

He lifted his fingers to slid along her waist and down to her hips, fingers curling ever so slightly around her curves. She shuddered as his hands slid down to hold the sides of her bare thighs in his hands, his warm, strong hands with the softest fingertips. She wanted to die.

Had they kissed before? Yes. We're they somewhat romantically involved? Maybe. Did that give him any good reason to rest his rough hands on her thighs like that? Probably, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute at this point. 

"Kakashi...stop that," she said softly, her voice lowering from how it was before. She suddenly felt a lot smaller, scared even. Hooking up with Kakashi wasn't something she planned on doing anytime in the near future, if at all. He was her friend, and she felt strange sitting in his lap with his hands all over her. It felt so right but wrong at the same time, like she was breaking the law. Well, laws of friendship that is.

She cared about Kakashi, more than she wanted to admit. He wasn't just a friend, he was something weirdly in between and she couldn't exactly put her finger on how she felt about him. All she knew was that if she was going to have sex with this man, it would be the right way. They would have to date first. She wasn't just gonna sleep around this time. He was different. 

She wanted to impress him, to make him smile and laugh, to take him out to dinner and hold hands on their way home, to kiss at her doorstep. She wanted all of that before any of this.

His hands dropped from her sides and she crawled away from him, grabbing her blanket and cradling herself in it. "Listen, Y/N, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I know, it's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

It was quiet. Just the sounds of both their breaths filling the air and the crickets chirping in the darkness outside. She shifted in her blanket to rest her head on the wall, leaning against it with her shoulder. He remained on his back, staring up at the empty ceiling tiles. 

It was now so terribly awkward. Thanks, Y/N.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You, uh, don't snore all that much. I was just teasing you."

"Thanks," she exhaled. "You're not as ugly as I said."

"I know."

Wow, Kakashi. So modest.

Her words fell right into place as she spoke, emotions slipping out with each breath. She looked at his profile in the dark, the way his bedhead stood on end, his nose pointed upward and his lips sat calmly, the curve of his chin under the edge of his mask, the way his eyes just sat there unmoving and gentle, brows soft above the eye. She took in all of him as she confessed, "I just don't want it to be like this. I don't want to fall for you this way."

"I get it."

"I just think that you and I could be something different. You're not like the other guys to me, at least, I don't think of you that way," she took a deep breath. He still stared deep in the ceiling, and somehow it made her comfortable enough to confess everything she'd been feeling. It was as if he could just lay there and listen without words forever. "I don't want you to just fuck me before we really...well I don't know, we've never even been on a date. I...I think I'm ready to fall in love with you."

"Then let's do it."

She peered over at him, lips agape with surprise. She hadn't expected much at all, but certainly not that. "What?"

"When we get back to the village, I'll take you on a date, more if things go well. We can take it as slow as you want," he told her, turning to lay on his side, facing her. He watched as she cuddled further into the comforter, only a peek of her face in his view. She was actually kinda cute through all those worn and torn layers. "I don't think I can let you go this time."

"Really?"

"Anything for you."

She ducked her head down to stare at the hardwood beneath her feet. She was overwhelmed by how nice he was being. Normally, it didn't go like this. Things normally got sexual so quick there wasn't even a chance for these sorts of conversations. It was just different with Kakashi. She could say no to him and expect better, because she knew he could deliver. "No one has ever treated me like this before."

He smiled. "Well, it's about time someone did."

"Can you hold me?"

"Come on." He lifted his arm up with the covers attached so she could crawl over and burrow herself next him, tucked right against his side. He rested his arm around her shoulders and held her close to his chest. Things were looking good for the both of them. Better than they had in a long time.

He wished this kind of thing could last forever. The beating of her heart, the laughter in her voice, the shine in her eyes. He just wished he could have bottled it all up and held it close to him for the rest of his life. 

But he waited too long, and the opportunity slipped from his grasp.

______

The pair fought hard. Kakashi was better than her, everyone knew that. The enemy targeted her for that reason. It was clear as day that she was important to Kakashi, and the enemy quickly caught onto that. He was quick to bring the knife to her neck, pressing the woman’s back tightly to his chest. The blade stung her skin, already piercing the flesh from the bit of pressure he applied.

She cried out, feeling a trail of blood begin running down her neck. Her nails clawed at his arm, desperate to get him to release her from his clutches, but he persisted. One hand held onto her chin tightly, keeping her face from thrashing, and the other continued to apply more and more pressure into the blade. 

For the first time in a long time, she found herself feeling unrestricted fear. She was scared. Scared for her life. She’d never been in this situation before, feeling so completely and utterly helpless like a deer caught in the headlights. Kakashi was right there, she should have known everything was going to be okay. After all, she had the village’s strongest veteran on her side.

It wasn’t the pain that caused the tears to bubble up in the corners of her eyes, no, it was Kakashi. The way his eyes darted over to the them, and she could feel his heart beginning to race, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and the fear creeping up into his heart. He never wore his heart on his sleeve. He was so closed off, sometimes she could only get a wisp of emotion from him, especially the ones that showed such vulnerability. 

Now it all seemed to come tumbling out like a landslide. She was drowning in fear, his and her own. 

“Let her go,” he called out, practically pleading with the man across from him, but it was in vain. 

“Like I’d listen to some filthy leaf shinobi,” the spy replied angrily. He felt so hot, burning up with so much anger she wanted to throw up. What had they done to upset him this badly? Her jaw was starting to ache from being held so tightly, and she swore she could taste blood running down her throat. This was bad. This was so terribly, miserably bad. 

Kakashi stood there, his hands hovering at his sides, unknowing of what to do. She was already bleeding out all over the collar of her shirt. If he made a single move, the man could easily finish the job with one fatal swipe. The copy nin felt cornered. Hopeless. What was there left to do? He’d let the love of his life fall in the hands of some petty criminal. 

Come on, think of something. Anything. Just think of something.

“What? You upset I’ve got your little girlfriend here?”

God, he was so desperate. The man taunting him didn’t help at all. He just felt himself spiralling deeper into hopelessness. He bargained, “Please, just let her go. I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

It wouldn’t work though. This man was set in his ways, and there was no changing that. He came into this fight knowing exactly what he wanted to do. And he was going to finish the job. 

“This is for what you shinobi have done to my people,” he sneered before she felt the knife dip further into her neck, sliding painfully across her throat. He dropped her head from his grasp, and as soon as he had, her body crumbled down to the ground. She collapsed in a bleeding heap on the dirt. 

The criminal quickly ran into the forest behind them, getting lost among the trees and the bushes within seconds. None of that mattered though. Kakashi could only run over to her limp body lying there on the ground, sputtering and coughing on thick blood filling her throat and lungs. Her cheeks and lips painted red now from spitting so much up. He fell to his knees beside her body, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a tear drip down his face.

She cried, hot tears running down her cheeks into the dirt on either side of her head. She cried for her pathetic self, having been attacked and injured in this way. She cried for Kakashi, feeling the pain and sadness, the panic, radiating off his form. She took in every emotion he was feeling, wanting to savor being with him for as long as she had, to fully take him in one last time. 

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, his hands running over her hair and cheek, smearing blood on her skin and his fingers. “We’ll bring you back to the village. The Hokage can fix you.” His words were so soft into the air, like if he spoke any louder he would hurt her.

They both knew that none of what he was saying was true. She was as good as dead.

She lifted her hand weakly to sit on his other hand. “I…” The woman took a labored breath.. “Love you, Kashi.”

“No, no, no. Don’t say that,” he hushed her, feeling his heart grow heavier in his chest with every second that passed, every look at her bloody neck and face, her laboring chest as she took hopeless breaths. He was falling apart in this moment, desperate for fate to change, for her to magically be better. He choked, “You can’t die, Y/N.”

“It’s okay.” Her words were slurred and hard to hear, liquid bubbling up in her throat to the point she was almost incomprehensible. “I love you,” she confessed once again. She wanted those to be her last ever words to him, the words he would remember for the rest of his life. To know someone out there loved him more than anything else.

He had to know that he was her everything. He was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she was going to miss him so terribly wherever her soul went after this. She just wished there was more time to tell him everything she felt. Yet, time was passing faster than she thought, and all those words felt impossible.

“I love you, too. You have to live for me. Just keep breathing, it's going to be okay.”

“It...hurts.”

More misery erupted his chest, and he found himself wanting to scream. Tears dripped steadily down both his cheeks now as he watched this woman die in front of him, one of the only people he truly needed in his life. “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry I let this happen to you.”

She nodded faintly, her eyes beginning to close. He was starting to panic. Was this his last moment to say goodbye? Their time together was so short, how was this fair? He’d already lost everyone he ever cared about, and now this? He felt like the gods were laughing down at him and his misfortune. 

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.”

She didn’t respond, but she was still breathing. 

“Y/N, please.”

And he watched as her chest fell still and her labored breaths were silent on his ears. He found himself gathering her form up against his chest, her head cradled in the crook of his neck, just sobbing into her hair, weeping for a long lasting love gone in an instant. 

 He carried her body home that day himself. Something he never anticipated happening, but should have prepared for. He always thought he was going to watch as someone else carried her home to him, death long gone before he had the chance to see. He never thought it would be right in front of him. He thought he could protect her, save her from the clutches of fate. He was so wrong.

Kakashi was alone once again.