#and killing every enemy (some of which are so rare that people keep track of SEEDS where they DO spawn)

[hmm-ctrl]

guys it finally happened

rain world is now my most played game on steam.....

[kisuminight]

For a tldr on the XC 2 the Blade system: it is a cross of Steven Universe and Soul Eater, plus a magical empathy bond between both partners, the Blade and the Driver.

Blades start from core crystals, which are basically magical computer processers that look like a palm-sized gemstone. When these core crystals interact with a Player, a magical bond is created between the Player and the Blade. This is called Resonance. The Blade uses ambient magical energy, called aether and compresses it into a body to interact with the world. The Player is the Blade’s Driver (like a computer driver).

The physical forms Blades take are variable. There can be animal-shaped blades, and there can be human-shaped blades. Since this is a MC crossover AU, Blades can also look like various types of hybrids. However, even though Blades may take on appearances of other species, they do not have the special skills or instincts related to the species their form is mimicking, with some exceptions.

Blades tend to take on the characteristics of the first Driver they have. If the Blade’s first Driver is a fox hybrid, the Blade’s appearance will be that of a fox hybrid. If the Blade’s first Driver is one of the rare aether-sensitive animals, the blade will take the animal’s appearance (this is how you get beast-shaped blades).

Since the form of an Awakened Blade is made of compressed aether, they have liquid aether in their body instead of blood. The aether makes glowing circuit lines on their skin instead of having veins called aether lines. Their core crystal outwardly appears set in their front, generally around the collarbone area. Their weight is variable (depending on mood/the Blade’s current preferences).

Blades are called Blades because they each have the ability to summon a weapon (customized to that Blade) for use. A Blade’s base appearance never changes (either weapon form or physical form); Blades do not age, and the only true death for a Blade is to have their core crystal shattered, because that means the Blade can never be Awakened again. If a Blade takes lethal damage, they revert back to their core crystal instead.

Any time a Blade fully reverts to their core crystal, they lose all memories of their previous “life.” Skills they picked up will go to Procedural Memory, and they will be retained. Any emotion-based memories or personal memories will be lost. Blades also revert to their core crystal if the Resonance between Blade and Driver is broken by the Driver’s death.

Since this is a MC AU, death for a Player can be cheap. For extra angst, a Respawn counts to break the Resonance, even though it is not true death for the Player. The Blade will revert to their core crystal, and it will drop wherever the Blade happened to be. A Player recovering their Blade, when their bed is potentially far away can be harrowing. Blades are independent people, so the Blade may not have been nearby to the spot where the Player died, and there is no way to track the core crystal if the Driver does not know where it is (enchanted compasses fail when the Blade reverts to a core crystal). If the Player is on a multi-player server, it is completely possible that someone else may find and walk off with the core crystal before the original Driver can recover it.

Even if the Player can recover the core crystal, the fact remains that the Blade, as they knew them, is dead. The memory loss is complete. Blades keep the same core traits every time they are Awakened, but different experiences will lead to them becoming slightly or very different people in each life.

The memory loss portion of the Blade system can also be abused by unscrupulous people/assholes. A Blade can be killed to make it forget a secret. A Blade that has been Awake for a while an is more sure of its personality can be killed and re-Awakened by the same abusive Driver to undo any character growth. If a Driver has an enemy that kills the Blade and then Awakens the core crystal, the Blade will serve their new Driver just as faithfully and loyally as their previous Driver, and will not recognize the previous Driver even if they meet face-to-face.

Since a Blade cannot be corporeal without a Driver, all Blades have strong protective instincts towards their Driver, bordering on unconditional love by default, especially when a Blade is newly Awakened. Even in a positive Blade-Driver relationship, this can make feelings complicated, because until the Blade has a bit of real-world experience with other relationships, it can be hard to tell if the Blade actually cares for the Driver because they care or because it is magical geas/instincts.

~

Anyway, c!Dream is a Blade and c!George is his Driver. And also they're keeping it a secret from basically the whole server. This fixes nothing of the early plot, and actually makes some of Dream's early paranoia worse.

Also it makes c!dnf even worse because it is hard enough to figure out and do something about love when you're just 2 guys. In this AU, it is a deliberate question for both Dream and George on whether the love is actually real or if it is because Blades always protect/love their Drivers.

[this-has-returned]

Idk if this would be useful for any writers out there, but allow me to take a moment of autism to explain some terms that get said a lot in movies and stuff during air combat encounters.

Bogey: An unknown contact on radar

Bandit: A confirmed enemy aircraft

Angels: Used like "angels-20" or "angels-30", which is a unit of measurement for altitude, in thousands of feet. So "angels-25" is an altitude of 25,000 feet in the air.

Fox-1: A kind of air-to-air missile guidance style, and a fairly old one. A pilot calls out every missile they fire, to keep everyone aware of how many missiles have been spent, and how many are currently in the air. Fox-1 specifically means the firing aircraft needs to keep the bandit in line-of-sight with radar to help the missile follow the bandit. This tends to leave the firing aircraft vulnerable, though.

Fox-2: Typically used in short-range encounters, a Fox-2 missile is a kind of heat-seeking missile, which chases the exhaust of a jet engine. These can sometimes chase the sun instead, or get distracted by flares.

Fox-3: Typically used when attacking from beyond visual range. Fox-3 missiles use the firing airplane's superior radar for as long as possible. Once the missile gets close enough to the bandit, or when the firing aircraft breaks lock, the Fox-3 missile enters a state called "pitbull", where it relies on its own internal radar system to track the target. Sometimes a pitbull Fox-3 makes mistakes and loses track of the bandit, or chases another aircraft that happens to be in sight (rare). A bandit can launch chaff, which is a cloud of metallic bits which aims to confuse Fox-3 radar systems.

An "AMRAAM" is a kind of Fox-3 missile, and a "sidewinder" is a kind of Fox-2 missile.

Also, you might have heard audio of a "growling" sound, like an electronic "arowarowarow" buzzing noise. Some older sidewinder lock-on systems would make this noise while the heat-seeking warhead searched the sky in front of the aircraft for a heat signature. It would be followed by an "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" sound when one was found (and sometimes it was just the sun, lol).

Typically, an aircraft carries 2 Fox-2 missiles and 2 to 4 Fox-3 missiles. The idea is they will try to fend each other off at a distance first (using Fox-3 missiles), and then either fly home or try to fly closer to use the Fox-2 missiles.

Missiles also do not relentlessly chase down a bandit, and they also rarely follow right behind the bandit. Eventually, a missile runs out of fuel and speed, and simply plummets. Additionally, incoming missiles tend to match the bandit's direction of flight and come in from the side, like when two cars in a chase sequence slam into each other's sides. A missile rarely has the ability to come off the rail, turn to face the bandit head-on, and fly forward into the bandit. They're not trying to chase directly; they're trying to intercept the bandit at some future point. Because of this, the bandit can usually exhaust the incoming missile by changing course a lot.

Also, the missile does not need to physically touch the bandit to inflict damage. Usually the missile gets within some minimum distance, and sneezes molten metal out of its warhead like a shotgun. It's this forward spray that rips up the wings and engine.

When a bandit is shot out of the sky, it's called a "splash" followed by the kind of aircraft that was eliminated. For example: "Splash one hornet". Sometimes you might just hear "splash one".

This is because some aircraft can survive a missile or string of gun rounds in a freak chance event. Technically, this was still a "hit", but it did not prevent the bandit from flying, so it's not a "splash".

Also, some people might disagree with this for...reasons, but generally the goal is not to kill the enemy pilot, but to take down their aircraft. Military aircraft are extremely expensive and are really hard to replace, so a lot of air combat is actually a battle of economies. Therefore, it's typically preferred that you bring your own aircraft home in one piece, and not waste expensive aircraft gun rounds (and fuel) on shooting down parachutes. Splashing the bandit aircraft is the actual victory. What happens to the pilot is typically irrelevant to your mission. This is, of course, still dehumanizing at its core: currency above human lives; you're only spared after ejection because it's too expensive to kill you, and probably not because the enemy feels bad for you. However, if you read about a moment where ejected pilots are shot out of the sky, then you now have better context for how cruel, gruesome, and excessive that really is, on top of any moral conclusions you've already had about warfare.

Hope this is useful when picking up details in movies or other media! I also hope this clarifies some stuff when writing stories that involve air combat, too! There are a lot more details, but idk how much interest there is.

[xhatake]

@zealctry enabled me:

okay so misaki (inuzuka) hatake is a kunoichi of the hidden leaf. she & sakumo don't get closer until later in life but they become this really cool team. misaki is not nearly as powerful as sakumo [ as sakumo is literally on the same level as the sanin - this is canon ] but they work in tandem really well. i once described their dynamic as ' misaki is the warning bell, sakumo is the promised storm ' . misaki grows up embracing brutality, coldness, she expects & wants to die for her village so it's a surprise when she survives past childhood. her team doesn't, but she does. it leaves her in a spot very similar to kakashi's canon where she gets deep in the ' live for the village, die for the village' perspective & her expertise in tracking down & killing people drives her to rise in ranks.

she's a natural but brutal leader. efficiency was her middle name. she didn't care who had to die for success, herself included. this starts to change after she's assigned to work with sakumo a little more. where she used to delight in bloodshed, he makes her question the patterns she's been taught. he poses the question of ' is it worth it? ' & she really cannot answer that. satisfaction is nice, yes. she loves to feed her pride. but what does she have to show for all the blood on her hands? nightmares that's what. she starts to forge a friendship with him though they are often at odds. but he shows her a way much different than her own & she likes it.

she was an expert tracker as well, she had two ninken she worked with regularly. absolute nightmare dogs with curly tails. they're pretty small for inuzuka ninken, but it works better that way. they can hide & fight when necessary without putting themselves at risk needlessly. i think sakumo has an interest in ninken & training some of his own. misaki, who oversee's some of the breeding works with him to train & raise ninken of his own. which ultimately shows him a side of her he didn't know existed. this softness about her that's spared only for her pups.

sakumo starts to catch feelings. shenanigans ensue. misaki is a natural beauty, but sakumo is a legendary shinobi. misaki's pride keeps her from swooning like all the other girls, which adds to the draw sakumo feels towards her. misaki isn't interested at first. She has things to do, she isn't going to swoon over the white fang like so many others were prone to do. But she likes that he wants her. There's actually one scene I've always imagined for them / wrote once where sakumo gets her flowers, tries to give them to her while she's reading in the park, she trips him & keeps reading, stepping over him & keeping on her way. but she finds him so endearing.

they work together not only in raising ninken, but also on more missions. Misaki begins to recognize how he values life, which is rare. especially during this time.. For example, this is the time of the sanin. This is during & right after the second shinobi war. Brutality is expected, but Sakumo surprises her constantly. Eventually she catches feelings too & their romance is fast & hard. I have a headcanon about sakumo having bpd, feeling everything to the max & this being part of the reason why his despair is so strong. why it is so isolating. but, this also leads him to love so hard with every fiber of his being. in doing this, his fire melts the ice around her heart it's all very poetic.

buttttt i think misaki dies a little bit after kakashi's third birthday. she's on a mission, she gets captured & rather than wait to be rescued, she tears through her opponents. which was sooo unescessary like if she would have waited even 15 minutes she would have had the backup she needed i'm talking she emerges from the enemy's hideout, her knees give out on her & sakumo catches her before she hits the ground. thats how close she was to having help & surviving. but she's not patient like that, you see. She dies in his arms & he carries her body back to the village to bury her.

very shortly after this, kakahsi chooses his name. there is a post somewhere that i will link when i can find it that talks about kakashi naming himself after the scarecrow in his mother's garden & i abide by it because i think it i such a lovely concept. also tragic. i love tragedy. i think this whole generation is full of tragedy though. like don't get me wrong, the third shinobi war is awful. but the second one is worse. there are no boundaries, limits for what is expected of all of these people ( only a generation & a half after the warring states period ) experience. but if i get deep into second shinobi war talk it's over. I'll need a whole google doc about that.

[speedbooster]

Well, now this was something new. When Jowi had planeswalked, through Gaia’s timelines, he’d expected to end up… well, on Earth. He’d done so every other time he’d tried this. Maybe some kind of distortion had thrown him off track. But to land on a space ship of some kind…? Landing on anything moving was hard. Doing this on accident was impressive. But now where was the owner?

Bounty Hunting was rarely as glamourous as people made it out to be, even for one as renowned as herself. Sure, there were always the occasions where she'd take on the space pirates or some other galaxy-wide threat, but most of the time, it was as simple as heading to a swamp to kill a horde of giant bugs that were threatening a small farming town.

Which wouldn't be so bad if the damn things hadn't kept tackling her into the mud.

'Definitely going to need to get the suit cleaned when I get back. Last thing I need is for it to start rusting-'

Still, it wasn't all bad. The village was safe, and while they weren't going to be paying her much, she could at least get a good meal with it, instead of falling back on her ship's rations.

Speaking of which, she decided to ping her gunship to pick her up, not wanting to waste time walking back to town. Though as she did so, she received an odd notification.

[DATA RECEIVED] Unknown Lifeform in Cargo Bay

That... didn't make any sense. She had scan logs for all the lifeforms in the area, and she was sure she hadn't picked up any hitchhikers on the way here. Had a foreign species made landfall snuck into her ship while it was in town?? Or were her ship's scanners on the fritz?

She quickly typed in a command for her ship's computer.

[Lockdown the cargo hold and Scan Lifeform for any relative matches]

Meanwhile, she ran towards the landing site, keeping an eye on the scanner's progress on her HUD.

[DATA RECEIVED] [No known matches. Subject appears to be a human male, yet possesses unquantifiable amounts of an unknown energy signature. Strength appears to have been increased due to a genetic mutation. Engaging in combat is ill advised]

'... well, that's just great.'

She skidded to a stop at the landing site, typing in another command.

[Eject cargo and head into low orbit]

She didn't have much back there, as it was mostly for carrying mission-related cargo, so it would be worth it just to get whoever this was out of there. This gunship was built for transport under heavy fire, not for housing an all-out brawl, so it was best to keep it out of harm's way until she could determine the intensions of this stowaway.

She really couldn't afford to lose another one- _________________________________

Inside the ship, things had been rather calm aside from the other areas being sealed off. The scanner's beam was infrared and had only lasted for less than a minute, leaving Jowi alone in the dark metal room with nothing but a couple of steel crates. And the ride was so smooth, if he wasn't who he was, he might not of had any idea the ship was moving at all.

Until-

"[EJECTION IMMINENT]"

In a matter of seconds, faster than most could react, the rear door of the ship opened up and a wave of blue energy forced him and the crates out, violently sending the latter to the ground as if shot from a rail cannon, before the shutter door closed and the ship blasted off into the upper atmosphere.

The crates fell to the side of the bounty hunter, not even flinching as they impacted. Instead, all her attention was focused on the magician, with her arm cannon pointed squarely at his chest.

"What were you doing on my ship?"

Despite the theatrics, her voice was calm. Firm, but still. She didn't know whether he was an enemy or an ally, and while she would ere on the side of caution, she wasn't going to treat him like the former unless he gave her a reason to.

... granted, it'd be easy to see what had just happened as treating him like an enemy, but she figured he could take it. And given his power, if he was a threat, she needed any advantage she could get.

Though, how this would come across was the furthest thing from her mind. She... wasn't much of a "people person."

[gertlushgaming]

Darkest Dungeon II Review (Steam)

For our Darkest Dungeon II Review, where we play a roguelike road trip of the damned. Form a party, equip your stagecoach, and set off across the decaying landscape on a last-gasp quest to avert the apocalypse. The greatest dangers you face, however, may come from within...

Darkest Dungeon II Review Pros:

- Decent dark gothic graphics. - 3.82GB download size. - Steam achievements. - Trading Cards support. - Graphics settings - window mode, resolution, display monitor, graphics quality slider, v-sync, and max fps. - Input settings - can rebind controls, and sensitivity sliders. - Gameplay settings - tutorial pop-ups, analytics, and subtitles. - Roguelike gameplay. - The stagecoach is where you drive it around, you can buy and upgrade parts of it and the goal is to hit bushes, etc for random loot, find objectives and interact with people, etc. - Four initial characters to have in your party - plague doctor, grave robber, highwayman, and man at arms. - Traveling around on the stagecoach is 2.5D and the combat takes place in a 2D plane. - Earn loot from enemies defeated. - Turn-based combat. - The tutorial section is a text-based reference point. - Encounters introduce multiple-choice questions and answers. - Very dark gothic atmosphere. - Relics is the in-game currency. - Party members will chat with each other as you play and travel around. - You can set the turn/party order. - Hover text pop-ups which is helpful with attacks and abilities in combat. - Awesome animated attack sequences. - Academic view is where you can get a real in detail look at enemies. - Stress is a huge deal here and you get it from fighting and encounters, you can lower it but if you have a meltdown then you lose loads of affinity and HP. - Death's door is where the next hit could kill the character, it is also the state needed to do an execution kill. - Traveling around gives the game a much grander look and feel. - Affinity is the system whereby party members can like or hate each other which affects how combat plays out. - Candles of hope are what you earn from playing and are carried over from run to run. - You can end your run at any time but reaching an Inn will grant large rewards. - Three ways to end a run - victory, defeat, and abandoning. - The candles of hope are used at the Altar of Hope to unlock new characters, and items and upgrade characters. - You see how many candles of hope you get before finalizing the end-run command. - Excellent voice work. - Inventory and load-out management can be done when traveling around. - Every run randomizes. - Mastery points are earned from combat and are cashed in at inns to upgrade hero skills. - Stagecoach flame goes out over time and if it goes out then the game becomes harder, you can relight it by doing encounters. - At inns, you can equip items, upgrade character skills, equip the stagecoach, and pick your next route. - Once in a region, you get a map more akin to a roguelike where you are constantly choosing your routes and you can see some events but not a lot. - You can find and take part in hero stories, you can choose which character each time. - Watchtowers are rare events that grant you the reward of uncovering all the stops on the map in the current region. - Feels like a much more streamlined approach. Darkest Dungeon II Review Cons: - Cannot change or edit settings until you enter the game. - The tutorials are all pop-ups and the game clearly thinks you have played the previous game. - No controller support. - A lot to take in especially if it's your first time. - Some encounters are not always clear on what to do. - Slow starter. - Healing items feel rare. - No combat speed choices. - Not always sure when the game is saving. - You have so many buffs and debuffs going on that it's really hard to keep track of it all. Related Post: Mr. Run and Jump Is Atari's Next Original Game Darkest Dungeon II: Official website. Developer: Red Hook Studios  Publisher: Red Hook Studios Store Links - Steam Read the full article

[peacevine]

alright so here’s a slightly better-written version of my idea for a new trading post npc who gives out coliseum bounties:

the basic concept is this: a new npc is added to the trading post, who hands out coliseum bounties. you can take a bounty there, at which point you are assigned to kill a certain number of a certain coliseum enemy.

first of all, the idea is to encourage an alternative way of coli grinding for people who struggle to do so without clearly defined goals. specifically, it’s also meant to be accessible to anyone - coli challenges on the forum exist, sure, but not everyone uses the forums, knows how to find them or wants to bother with keeping track of their progress. sometimes simple is good!

furthermore, the goal is to have things be as accessible to new players as well as more experienced ones. i’m leaving exact balancing to the staff, but ideally there’d be a system to check the levels of dragons you have in your lair so that you wouldn’t be assigned venues that are too high if all your dragons are low-leveled, or if you only have one high-leveled dragon.

lore-wise, it would work well if the npc is a gaoler, recruiting dragons to assist the seekers in their cause. they’d be sending you to places where the shade fragments are stronger at that moment, so that you can help deal with the problem.

as a reward, upon bounty completion, the npc will reward you with a chest item; the seeker’s spoils. lore-wise, this ties into the gaoler’s practical habit of not making hoards: instead, this npc is giving out the loot from their hunts as rewards to encourage other dragons to fight!

the seeker’s spoils would be a chest item, containing a small assortment of coliseum loot: food, materials and trinkets, as well as a smaller chance of familiars, battlestones, apparel; even vistas, scenes and eggs! droprates are akin to the coliseum itself. i again will leave exact balancing to staff but the idea is that it wouldn’t be the new meta for coli profit or anything; rather a nice way to encourage you to keep going as well as to somewhat offset the fact that you don’t get to choose where or what to grind. the spoils would also come in several tiers, with higher tiers awarding better/more loot; which tier you get is based on the number of enemies you were assigned and the venue your bounty was in (so that harder bounties are rewarded appropriately; also so newbies are motivated to train!)

spoils could also award unique rewards, rarely, to further encourage people to take on bounties. examples would be a campsite-themed scene, a special vista, or apparel themed after specific coliseum enemies or venues. perhaps even familiars; something similar to the dripcave deputy, maybe? or even special clanbound items that help newer players level up their team!

yet again a disclaimer that none of this is set in stone (or real yet, for that matter) but i’m thinking that bounties would be unlimited so people can enjoy the coliseum in any way they want whenever they want - but that there’d also be a possibility of changing your current bounty that is limited by a timer in some way so it’s not abused. giving you a few rerolls every number of hours, or something like it?

...anyways i think that’s all of it. kind of longer than i intended but at least this summarizes the idea neatly in one post! i struggle with coli grinding a lot if i don’t have a goal & i know others do too so i hope this would help that problem at least a bit

[galactic-magick]

I’m Not Your Enemy: Agnes/Agatha Harkness x Reader

Request: Hey would you mind writing an Agatha x reader where reader finds the basement and confronts Agatha and she reveals herself to her and reader knows she's bad, she knows but she can't resist her and joins her side. Maybe with reader and Agatha having a fight first but Agatha convincing her? I just love my powerful witch lady. - @nyx-aira​ // Is it okay for me to request a agatha harkness x Female reader where reader finds out who agnes really is before Wanda does and she feels hurt by her not telling who she really is? Like she isn't mad at her just upset that she hid true herself from her own girlfriend? And agatha feels guilty but makes up for it? So kinda angst with a bit of a happy ending? I was so happy with her reveal lmao dhsjwbwkwnjw - anon

Summary: You find out your girlfriend has been hiding that she’s a witch.

Words: 700+

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 7!! Also some angst

Author’s Notes: Hope it’s alright that I combined these requests since they were so similar!

-

-

-

Agnes is rarely a private person. She’s never been afraid of saying what’s on her mind or being herself, especially around you. As far as you know, she’s an open book, your beautiful-neighbor-turned-girlfriend.

But despite that, she’s never once let you come to her house, at least not inside. You always have your dates around town, and if you ever want to relax in a more isolated environment you go to your place. Whenever you’ve brought up going to her house she always has some excuse against it, like it’s too messy, or she’s getting renovations done, or her bunny pooped on the floor so everything smells.

Today though, you figure you have a reason to go inside.

She hasn’t been answering any of your texts and calls all day, which never happens. Plus you had a brunch date planned this morning, and she didn’t show up.

Surprisingly the door is unlocked, so you come right in.

“Aggie? Are you here?” you call, with no answer.

You look around all the rooms and can’t find her anywhere, until-

What is that?!

You stop in your tracks, unable to step any further.

Black vines cover an opening in the basement, dark and thick and spreading as far as you can see ahead.

You hesitantly walk forward, entering the void until you can see some dim light. You find a room covered with the same vines, some odd objects and books lining the walls.

You hear some footsteps, and before long Agnes comes in and drops what she was holding.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?!”

“I was worried about you, Aggie! You missed our date and you haven’t responded to anything-“

She places her hands on your shoulders and tries to shuffle you out, “You need to get out of here darling, you were never supposed to see any of this-“

You push her off, “See any of what? What the hell is this? Do you host some sort of weird cult down here or something?”

“Darling please, let me explain-“

“No! I thought you didn’t keep any secrets from me, how could you not tell me whatever this is?”

“Y/N,” she takes your hands and sits down with you. “Please just let me tell you now,”

You take a deep breath as she squeezes your hand, and you finally nod.

“You have every right to be upset. Honestly I just didn’t want to scare you away,” she says. “The truth is, I’m a witch. My real name is Agatha Harkness, and I know all the secrets about this town, most of them you’re probably not ready to hear. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you amongst everything, but I did, so I wanted to protect you, so I didn’t tell you,”

“You’re…a witch? Like an actual witch? You can use magic?”

“I can do much more than that, honey,” she smirks.

“I just,” you shake your head. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me. I’m your girlfriend, I thought you’d trust me,”

“I’m sorry,” she strokes your cheek. “I’ll tell you everything, I promise. You’ll understand why I wanted to protect you. There’s forces at play here that could hurt you if you’re not careful,”

“Forces that you made?” your brows furrow as you connect the dots. “No well-meaning person has a dark lair like this in their basement, Aggie. Have you been hurting people? Manipulating me? How am I supposed to trust you anymore?”

“I’m not your enemy, darling,”

“Oh? Then who is?”

She takes your face again, bringing you close, “Like I said, I’ll explain everything. I love you and I won’t hide anything from you ever again,”

You look into her eyes, searching for anything not as genuine as her words. She seems to be telling the truth, and whatever she’s doing she must have a reason.

“Okay,” you nod. “I trust you,”

“Good,” she smirks again, kissing your forehead.

“But,” you sigh. “You are bad, aren’t you?”

“Depends on what you call bad, honey,” she laughs. “Doesn’t everyone like to make some trouble and have some fun sometimes?”

“I guess so,”

“See? Nothing to worry about,”

“Honestly I’d still stay with you if you were,” you mumble, but in the nearly silent room there was no way she couldn’t hear it.

“Would you?” she hooks a finger under your chin, teasing a kiss.

“Just…try not to kill anyone at least, okay?”

“Hmmm, I’ll try my best,” she whispers, closing the gap between you.

[retrievablememories]

afterdeath | lucas

title: afterdeath pairing: vampire!lucas x fairy!reader genre: angst, forbidden romance, fantasy, vampire!au request: May I request a Vampire!Lucas with a fairy!s/o (Forbidden romance perhaps?) word count: 8.6k warnings: descriptions of death and sickness, mentions of a funeral, viewing, and funerary preparations, major character death (but...with a slight twist), mentions of blood and drinking blood, smoking cigarettes, arguments/conflict, mentions of physical violence, some romeo and juliet elements? a/n: hmm this fic probably could’ve been more detailed but i was trying to avoid triggering my own damn self with so much talk of death...ha...not sure why i went this route but i wanted a forbidden romance with an actual decent ending for both characters and this was the first idea i had recommended songs: OLLA - jhené aiko

Year 1508

“We’ve felled the demon!”

“Indeed, we have!”

Cheers ring through the dawn as a large group of fairies dance around an immense bonfire, raising their shouts of celebration to the sky. Within the fire burns the body of the Primitiva Vampire, the One and Only Pureblood, haphazardly thrown over the wood pile and relieved of her head—which sits near the bottom of the burning mass of wood, her face still twisted in a mien of anger.

As the sky begins turning lighter with the onset of sunrise, the fairies continue their celebration, staying close to the fire all the while. They carry large flaming torches to guard against any of the Primitiva Vampire’s followers who might try to sneak upon them and strike in that sliver of space where the sun has yet to rise.

The Primitiva Vampire had a long reign of terrorizing fairies and turning humans and other supernatural creatures into vampires. Each transformed being became a terrible revenant, one which viciously hunted villages and stole into people’s homes for more blood, more death, and more unwilling adherents to the vampiric cult.

Mass numbers of fairies had been decimated once the vampires first tasted their blood and took a unique liking to it. For over 200 years, the carnage continued on at the hand of the Primitiva Vampire, who had one day blinked into existence in a way that could never really be explained by any conceivable means, either human or magic. And without ever giving a hint to her strange conception, she tore across cities and towns, converting others into night creatures like herself and building a loyal following of half-bedeviled beings.

When fairy populations had dwindled to nearly extinction-level quantities, they were left no other choice—fight back or be wiped completely from the universe’s ledger. So they took up arms, honed their magic skills, and did just that.

And now, all their efforts culminate in this blood-stained morning. It marks a much-anticipated moment of revelry before they have to return to their posts to watch for the night creatures inevitably waiting on the other side of the sunset, ready to avenge their slain Goddess.

Present Day

“You probably shouldn’t be here right now.”

“I wanted to come,” Lucas replies, taking your hand is his large one. “I wanted to see you.”

“I can figure that.” You laugh quietly, a little afraid to let your voice rise higher in case it carries too far. “But that doesn’t mean you should’ve come.”

Lucas holds your hand tightly. His skin is cold against yours due to his slow blood, and colder still from the chill permeating the air. It’s only one of many vampiric traits that the other fairies would think of as strange or barbaric, but you don’t see it that way. The chilliness just reminds you solely of him.

“Well, I missed you. And I’m here now, so you’ll just have to deal with me.”

The building you’re standing behind is damp, old, and dilapidated, and it’s not even one of your pre-designated meeting places. In front of you is a rusted chain link fence, which barricades a field of tall and unkempt grass. More aged and crumbling buildings scatter themselves across the distance, taken over by grass and climbing vines.

You don’t know what’s out here. This is one place within your district you haven’t been to before. It was Lucas’s idea to come here, after your last meeting place had nearly been discovered and he found it too risky to keep going there.

The entire city of Beijing is split up into different districts, each belonging to a different faction of supernatural beings. Some nonhuman races have close ties with each other and allow frequent cross-district mingling; others are sworn enemies, forbidden to fraternize with each other under pain of death. In these latter cases, crossing into another’s territory without express permission—or in rare situations, ties to a powerful ally (or allies) on the other side—is asking to get arrested, injured, or worse.

Lucas would be your tie to the vampire side and you his tie to the fairy side if your species weren’t centuries-long enemies. Instead, you’re relegated to having him sneak in and out of your district and hide what he is with blood-scent blockers and eye contacts to make the trickery easier to get away with. There’s only so much you can do to disguise your fae nature; stepping into vampire territory would turn you into a shining beacon.

“Hmm…” you sigh, shaking your head with a small smile on your face. You grasp Lucas’s hand so you’re now holding it with both of yours. “How long do you think we can keep this up? Going from place to place like this. Hiding like criminals.”

Lucas gives a lopsided grin—one that cannot morph into a full smile because of the sadness coloring it. “I don’t know. Forever, if we’re lucky.” He chuckles.

You stare at your intertwined hands, unaware of the sheer intensity of the longing expression on your face, though Lucas sees it clearly. It threatens to burn his heart to ash. “Unfortunately, fae don’t live forever like you do, so maybe not. Besides, your people would probably find out and come after me before we could even settle into a ‘forever.’”

He shakes his head fretfully at your words, squeezing your hand. “Do we have to talk about all that now? You know we don’t have much time together. Let’s just enjoy it for what it is.” Lucas pulls you into him, tucking your head into his shoulder.

“That’s fine by me,” you say, and resist the urge to make some dark joke about how scandalous it is for a fairy to have their neck so close to a vampire’s mouth—or a vampire’s anything.

You both stay together in that dingy and old spot for a while, talking in the dark until he tells you he has to go. He follows you the whole way back home to ensure you’re safe, keeping to the shadows until he sees you disappear past your front door. Then, he slips away again to head back to the familiar manor in his own district.

It’s nearly morning when Lucas gets back to the large house he shares with the other six men. By this time of day, he knows they will either be in bed or getting ready to turn in.

“Still visiting that fairy, I see.”

The unexpected voice doesn’t scare Lucas, but it does make his body tense up a bit in irritation and a slight sense of anticipation. He sighs and stops in his tracks on the way to his room, though he doesn’t face the clan leader just yet.

“Is that a problem? Because you know I’m not going to stop.”

Kun makes a noise of disbelief. “Of course it is. You know what the consequences are if anyone outside of us finds out.” Lucas turns to him slightly, and the look on Kun’s face is more disappointment—maybe even slight fear?—than anger. “I clearly can’t stop you from doing what you want to, but I can’t help you if the Association gets involved.”

Lucas rocks back on his heels and sighs, rolling his eyes at the mention of the vampire organization. “Fuck the Association. They’re nothing but a bunch of old ass hags who have no purpose in their lives other than ruling over every other vampire in the world.”

Kun looks weary at his words. “You really don’t care, do you, Xuxi. They’d have your heart on a stake if they ever heard that.” He pauses and rolls his eyes. “They’re also not that much older than me, so I wonder who you’re calling an ‘old ass hag’...”

“Isn’t it a good thing that they won’t hear it, then?” Lucas laughs, but it’s not an entirely humorous sound, and he gives Kun a searching look as his chuckles die off.

“Don’t look at me like that. I have no interest in telling them anything, mostly because I also have no interest in our whole clan being wiped out.”

Lucas nods, reaffirming his somewhat shaky but still present trust in Kun, needing the regular reassurances for his own calm. He stretches his arms above his head and takes a few steps like he’ll go to his room, though he doesn’t move to leave just yet. “Just don’t see what the big deal about all this is. All this over some ancient bloodsucker who died like 500 years ago...who cares.”

Kun winces again, though he doesn’t bother with reprimanding Lucas this time; he only shakes his head and sighs heavily like it’s already a lost cause. “A vampire and a fairy together is more than blasphemy—it’s ridiculous. It’s illogical. They all think we’re bloodsucking demons hellbent on killing them.”

“To be fair, there’s definitely a sect of vampire zealots or two who are trying to do exactly that despite the laws.”

Kun sighs. Lucas is right; what can he say to argue that? “Xuxi…”

“I’m telling you I’ll be fine, Kun-ge. You don’t need to worry about me and Y/N. Things have been going fine for this long.” Lucas nods, then heads off to his room for real this time. Kun watches him leave, feeling a lot less reassured than the younger man.

Ten takes Xiaojun and Lucas on one of their weekly outings to a blood lounge. Blood lounges are an easy and accessible way for vampires to get blood, though the legalities of this practice are a little muddy. Before getting with you, Lucas didn’t mind drinking straight from the source—going to one of the back rooms and sucking some willing, vulnerable being just to the point of death—but now, it feels like a type of transgression. Drinking someone else’s blood can be an intensely intimate act, on the same level as sex depending on the context, and he doesn’t want to do anything to make you think he’d be unfaithful.

To his fortune, there is no club rule about having to feed off other beings; many vampires take their blood in fancy champagne glasses, just like drinks in a human club. He does that now as the three men sit in a darkly lit booth.

Their conversation is unexciting for a while, with Lucas keeping careful not to mention you or any of his recent visits to your district to avoid any prying ears in the lounge. However, things soon get interesting. “We all know how Renjun got taken off the Association’s Registry a year ago, right?” Ten asks suddenly.

“Yes, of course.” Xiaojun answers like he’s already bored of this turn in the conversation. “That’s what happens whenever a vampire dies.”

Ten nods, but his eyes are wide like he has a secret he’s itching to tell. “But I don’t think he actually died.”

Lucas’s ears perk up at that.

“Why?” Xiaojun asks.

“He was seeing that human before he supposedly died, you know—”

“The one who lost it and drove the stake in his heart? We all know how it happened—”

“Can you let me finish? Anyway, I’ve heard some...suggestions that he faked his death—that maybe he got a magic user to set the whole crime scene up and make it look like it was real. Illusory magic, or something like that.”

Xiaojun sits forward. “A magic user. As in a fairy? Or a witch? Who?”

“I don’t know, just someone who uses magic. People are starting to think he and the human faked it all and ran away to Tianjin. I heard someone even claimed they saw somebody who resembled him when they went to Tianjin recently, though I don’t know how true that is…”

Xiaojun’s interest is thoroughly engaged now. “Think the Association will go looking for him, if it's true?”

“I don’t know if they’d care enough to hunt down an unregistered vampire who’s laying low and not creating chaos with other citizens. We all know Tianjin is way more relaxed about inter-species relationships, too. But the Association doesn’t like looking stupid. And that kind of trick definitely makes them look stupid.”

Lucas sits back, taking all of this information in. He is uncharacteristically quiet, but he doesn’t know what to make of that situation or why Ten is telling them about it. He thinks he can guess why, though, by the way Ten’s gaze lingers on him, and that scares him a little. The way this rumor piques a forbidden interest in him scares him. Lucas lifts the glass of blood to his lips and drinks from it, trying to distract himself from the current conversation.

“All this for a damn human. Only an idiot would try something like that,” Xiaojun says, shaking his head.

“Maybe a smart one. It did get him off the Registry.”

“How can you be a smart idiot?!” Ten and Xiaojun start arguing over the semantics of the term, and Lucas watches them in amusement, though his mind remains in two different places for the rest of their time in the blood lounge.

—

Later that night when they are back at the manor, Lucas pulls Ten aside, just like the older man expected him to.

“What’s wrong?” Ten asks, though his expression shows he already knows exactly what’s the matter.

“You...the stuff you said about Renjun earlier. I…” Lucas doesn’t know how to start or break his idea to him softly, so he decides to just say it. “Is it really possible?”

“I think it’s possible. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to get off the Registry…though many other attempts were way less successful.” Then Ten hesitates before saying, “You could try it.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am.” Ten’s expression softens a little. “I know you and Y/N love each other a lot, but there’s no way the Association will ever let you stay together if they find out. Y/N’s life could actually be in danger. Both of you are, every moment you spend together while living in these districts. If you really want to stay with Y/N, then…”

“...But I wouldn’t be able to see any of you again.” You and Lucas have become so entwined with one another that he can hardly imagine a life without you, but he also finds it difficult to picture his existence without his brothers. They’ve become like blood family to him over the last couple centuries.

“Yeah.” Ten sighs deeply, and although his reply is short, Lucas knows that one word is carrying the weight of all of his stress and sorrow about the idea. “Maybe we could find a way to visit you sometimes. Get the fairies or witches to do some of their magicky shit.” Ten laughs quietly. “But...it’s still just an idea. You don’t have to do it.”

Lucas shakes his head slowly. He wants to put the idea to bed and try to continue on with his life, managing his clandestine visits to your district when he can. But now that he knows of an alternative way, no matter how unreasonable or unbelievable it is, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget about it. “Kun-ge is going to kill you once he finds out this was your suggestion. You know that, right?”

Ten shrugs, and the sadness lifts momentarily in the curve of his lips. “He can try.”

The next time you and Lucas meet up, it’s in yet another different place under an ancient and mostly abandoned bridge. As a precaution, you stand together underneath the darkness of the bridge and stay out of sight, though there are few chances of anyone being around to see you in the first place.

He has to muster up the courage to tell you of his idea, unsure of how you’ll react or what you’ll think of it. It’s a lot to ask of you. Your kinships and friendships are not as extensive as his, only having a brother and two cousins left in the world, but he doesn’t know if he could ever ask you to leave them behind like this. Or if he could shake off the guilt that would remain from it.

“There might be a way for us to change things…” Lucas starts, skipping the build-up because he knows it would take him forever to think of something appropriate to say. “But I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

“Change things?” You glance at him curiously. You wish you could see the deep red of his irises, but they are hidden behind his brown contacts. “As in, with us?”

“Yes. So that maybe we wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore. Or at least...not sneak around as much as we do now.”

“What is it?” you ask. Despite yourself, your wings flutter against your back as wonder and excitement rise in your chest. You and Lucas have waxed poetic many times before about how you wish things could be different; and neither of you have ever been able to come up with a workable plan. But now, his claim that maybe something is possible has you dangerously curious.

“Taking myself off the Registry. I could basically just...disappear. The Association can’t harm what technically no longer exists.”

You stare at him in confusion. “But you can’t do that, right? Only under special circumstances…”

Lucas sees the question in your eyes and nods. “Right. Like if I die…” You flinch, shaking your head immediately. “...or pretend I’ve died.” This makes you pause, not expecting to hear something like that come from him.

“Pretend...you’ve died. Faking your own death?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but...there’s another vampire who we think has done it before. And...it worked. Supposedly.”

You shake your head again, but you turn the idea over in your mind. “How would you even do that? Someone would have to know you’re not really dead. That can’t be as easy as it sounds...”

Lucas swallows hard. “I know, it doesn’t, but maybe if we plan it right...I think we could pull this off. Some of the others...already know about it.” Only Ten, really, but that’ll inevitably change soon.

Your heart is hammering in your chest just thinking about this plan—the small, undefined plan that it is—and you’re unsure how to approach it. “If we leave under those circumstances, we can’t come back here to Beijing. Which means we won’t see anyone else again, our families and friends...”

“You understand that.” Lucas’s voice comes out strained.

You sigh, wringing your hands. “I do.”

Lucas hangs his head, closing his eyes tightly. “It’s too much to ask of you. We can just forget about this, really. I know sneaking around has been difficult, and I just—”

“I never said I wouldn’t agree to it,” you say softly, interrupting him before he can begin deriding himself about the idea.

Lucas’s head perks up again, and you both look at each other for a long moment. A cold night breeze flows through your clothes and rustles your wings, which remain tucked close against your back.

“Just think of it as leaving the nest, I guess,” you say, though there are tears welling in your eyes. “Growing up and making a life for ourselves. We can do that...right?”

Lucas bites his lip and closes his eyelids to stave off the tears trying to form in his own eyes. “Yeah. We can do that. Even if it’s a bit...unconventional.”

You nod hurriedly, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands before any more tears can make their way out. “If you really want to do this, then we need to visit my brother.”

—

Your brother is predictably not thrilled about the idea. He likes Lucas well enough, but he’s never been very good at hiding his skepticism about your relationship. Though he would never say this to you directly, he never expected your relationship to make it past a few months; and yet it’s been a year and a half since you and Lucas started seeing each other. Maybe he’d be glad about your relationship’s stability if your partner was anyone other than a vampire. Alas, he instead spends all his time stressing over whether either of you will be found out at any moment’s notice.

“You’re playing with fire,” your brother says as he sits down at his desk within his apothecary office. He shakes his head the entire time, but he rifles through his collection of books on magic anyway. If there is anyone who knows a potion or spell that could work for this scheme and would actually be willing to keep it all secret, it’s your brother.

“I know that, Aldriel.” You cross your arms, sighing impatiently at your brother’s continuous reprimands since you’ve stepped through his door. “That’s why we came to you. You’re one of the best magic wielders and potionists around.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. No need to blow smoke up my ass,” Aldriel replies, never one to let a moment to brag slip away. He continues flipping through his book fast enough to make the words on the pages blur, his brow creased with focus. He is paying attention to the words and pictures on the pages, though you also know him well enough to realize this is him trying to distract himself from the many thoughts that must be crowding his brain.

“Don’t be so worried about it,” you say, trying to speak against the lump that’s suddenly forming in your throat. “You’ve always complained about wanting me out of your hair, anyway.”

Aldriel pauses in flipping through his spell book to look directly at you now, his brows creased even further and his face creating a visage of bitter desperation. “Not like this.”

Sighing, you turn away from him and let him go back to his textbook, knowing you’d probably start to cry if you look at him any longer. And who knows what will happen once that begins.

You go back to Lucas, who is sitting in the other room with his face turned to the window. It is nighttime and the blinds are closed, so you know he’s not looking at anything in particular. His mind must be similarly preoccupied.

“You okay?” you ask, touching his arm.

“Fine,” he answers, though he doesn’t turn to you. He just grasps your hand where it slides down to his own, gripping your fingers tightly. “As fine as I can be in this situation, I guess.”

You sit down in front of Lucas on the floor’s intricately decorated rug, resting your head against his knee. “It’ll be okay.” You aren’t sure of the words when they leave your lips, but you have to believe in them or else all will be lost.

—

You both spend a few hours at Aldriel’s place. At one point, you try to prod Lucas into going back to his clan to avoid raising suspicions for being gone too long—you can just get the potion to him some other day—but he insists it’ll be easier for him to stay and receive the potion now.

Finally, in the hour before dawn, your brother’s door opens and he steps through. “It’s ready.”

Both you and Lucas come alert at that, and you step back into Aldriel’s apothecary to see what he’s developed.

“This is an advanced death glamor potion,” your brother says, holding up a small glass bottle. “It contains a magic incantation that will leave you dead for a week and only a week. Seven days. Your body will remain in perfect stasis, so there’s no risk of the regular side effects that come with death.”

“A week?” you repeat, nervousness coursing through your body. Lucas looks equally apprehensive, and he squeezes your hand tighter.

Aldriel nods, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “That should be enough time to take care of the funeral arrangements and make everyone else think you’ve passed.” He says the last bit while gesturing to Lucas. “I’m not super clear on how vampire funerary customs work, though, so—”

Lucas nods. “No, it’ll work. That’s enough time.”

Your brother’s mouth creases into a thin line. “Good.” He passes the vial to Lucas, makes an expression like he might say something else, and then shakes his head, glancing to you instead. “You plan to go to Tianjin, right?”

“That’s right,” you say quietly.

“You’ll need to find a place to stay, then, until you can get one of your own. And I think we both know exactly where that will be.”

The potion works just as Aldriel said it would. It’s hard to know whether to be dismayed or relieved about this, though the former emotion quickly wins out with everyone.

Lucas takes it a week after meeting with your brother and procuring all the necessary fake documents, claiming it’s best not to wait any longer for it. You feel apprehensive about doing it so soon; or maybe you just want to stall for a little while longer. By now the other five men in his clan all know, each with varying reactions to it but ultimately unable to do anything to change his mind—not even Kun.

On the night Lucas uses the potion, Kun makes one last ditch attempt at reasoning.

“You don’t need to go to this extreme,” the older man insists. Though his voice is cold and sharp and deceptively calm, his entire face is a picture of perfect anger. Everyone had already had their turns talking to Lucas alone and telling him what they needed him to hear—and now it’s just Kun left.

“It’s my decision,” Lucas says, keeping his voice steadier than he feels. “I want to be with Y/N. There is no other way.”

“You’re endangering the entire clan with this. You’d throw us all away for one person?” Kun’s eyes are red-rimmed, but not just from the rage; Lucas knows he’s been crying. Lucas shuts his own eyes, his forehead creasing as he presses the pads of his fingers to his temples.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Lucas shakes his head, knowing he is treading on very dangerous waters with what he’s about to say. As if the situation weren’t already contentious enough. “You closed yourself off to love a long time ago. After Jingyi died. You just wouldn’t know.”

The vivid red hue of anger bleeds into Kun’s irises at the mention of his late human lover, and he has to make a very concentrated effort not to reach for the younger’s neck. “How dare you speak of her.”

Lucas opens his eyes again and looks directly at his elder now. “You’ve let the Association run your life too much,” he says, though the words come out sounding a bit defeated. He’s not even sure why he invokes Kun’s lover now; maybe he is trying to make the split easier by provoking the other man into hating him. “You’ve let them beat it into you that love is not worth trying for. What did you gain from that, in the end? But more loneliness.”

Lucas gets the breath knocked from him when Kun slams him up against the wall, and the unpleasant sound of wood splintering strikes against his eardrums. A long vertical crack forms in the wood behind Lucas, but not wide enough to make the wall separate completely. Not using his full strength, then, Lucas thinks to himself.

Kun looks for all the world like he might kill Lucas then and there without the younger man ever needing to take a potion—just bite his heart right out. He crumples Lucas’s shirt in his hands, fisting the fabric tightly enough to create small rips in it. His irises are the color of newly spilled arterial blood, and alongside the red rimming of his eyes from his earlier crying, it makes for an agonizing sight—one that sears itself into the back of Lucas’s mind. It’s made even worse by the new tears spilling down the older man’s face.

He chokes out through the tears, “You cannot do this. I raised you. You would have me destroyed twice?”

Lucas wishes he could shut every one of his senses off right now, but he can only manage to shut his eyes, once again, against the pain in the other man’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Kun-ge.”

—

After that, Lucas goes back to his own room and sits on the bed for a long time, replaying the events in his head and growing colder with the realization of what he’s about to do. He stares at the small vial on his dresser until he can’t stare at it anymore, and then he downs it all at once. He looks at the vial with renewed interest as it actually disappears once the fluid is gone, the glass evaporating away in the palm of his hand like water droplets under the sun. No evidence.

Lying on his side, he stares at the wall across from his bed and waits for the spell to begin working. He doesn’t know how much time passes, but eventually his vision begins to blur, almost so imperceptibly that it’s difficult to realize until he notices everything in his field of view is doubled, objects bleeding out of their lines like pictures drawn by a drunken artist—there’s a strange ringing in his ears too, a sound on the edge of his hearing but still present, and he doesn’t know what any of it means, or if this is how other beings feel when they are on the brink of death—it’s frightening, and he feels a momentary pang of sympathy for other nonhumans and humans alike who have no choice but to experience this terrible ordeal at the closing of their lives—

It’s harder to keep his eyes open now, so he closes them and lets all sounds and sensations fade out of his hearing—he only holds one last memory of you in his mind, of the soft and filmy texture of your wings underneath his fingertips, of you laughing whole-heartedly at something silly he’d said, and he joins his hands together in the universal symbol of prayer even as they grow weaker, hoping and praying even to his cursed vampire ancestor that this won’t be the very last memory of you—

—

“Yes, he has...most certainly departed from this world.” 

An Association council member known as Belial announces this to the room of men after doing a thorough check of Lucas’s body. His voice is distant and saddened. The texture of it is almost tangible, dragging everyone down with it like a physical thing—akin to a rock being dropped into a thin sheet. “Such a fledgling, too. Truly tragic and strange circumstances.” Belial stands beside the bed, shaking his head and looking down at the still form of the younger man as if he might discover an answer if he stares for long enough. “Was there no indication…?”

“He was probably exposed to bad blood,” Ten replies, his voice tense and quiet. Though Kun is clan leader, he doesn’t say anything at all, leaving all the dirty work of explaining the lie to Ten.

Belial’s gaze turns to Ten. He shifts his head slightly to turn his ear towards him, as if he didn’t understand what the other man said. “Bad...blood? As in death by blood weakness?”

The room feels like it’s been sucked of air once these words are spoken, and the younger men shift uncomfortably. Sicheng never lifts his gaze to look at Belial, though Yangyang’s eyes keep darting between Belial and Lucas on the bed like he’s waiting for something to happen. Hendery is just as anxious beside Yangyang, both of them passing uneasy energy between each other. Xiaojun’s face is still fixed into the same permanent frown it had been in since Lucas first told them of the plan. His eyes remain downcast and fixed on Lucas, silently asking Why did you have to be the idiot this time?

“Yes, blood weakness. He hadn’t drank as much blood as usual in the last few days...maybe he seemed a little restless...but we didn’t think it was unusual. He...didn’t seem sick.”

“Where would he have gotten bad blood from? We vampires always take such care…” Belial’s tone turns condescending, as if he could expect no better from a young vampire—someone not even wise enough to tell bad blood from uninfected blood. How could one let themselves be taken out of this world by such a fundamental, basic mistake? Kun curls his fingers into a fist at his side, though he quickly remembers himself and tries to let them relax.

“The blood lounge,” Hendery blurts out. Every eye turns to him now, and Ten’s mouth thins into an agitated line. This isn’t what they agreed on. “M-maybe it was spoiled blood from the blood lounge. It had to be. He’s more careful than that…”

Belial’s eyes are whirling with so many emotions that it’s hard to pin any singular one down. “Serving bad blood, with or without knowledge of it, is an incredible offense within any vampire district. In that case, the establishment must be shut down—after an exhaustive investigation, of course.” This statement causes more discomfort among the gathered men, almost too much of it to be properly concealed.

“I think that won’t be necessary,” Kun interjects quietly. Belial looks at him with an expression that reeks of offense, and Kun returns the stare, glaring straight into the elder vampire’s eyes. “He died of blood weakness, most likely from drinking from some disease-ridden human. Even though he used the blood lounge and blood bags, he was in the habit of getting outside blood on occasion. It was a moment of poor judgment that cost him his life...and nothing more than that.”

A tense silence stretches over the room, and Belial’s eyes still don’t leave Kun’s. The other men remain statue-still, waiting to see what will happen—if it will work—until Belial says, “Yes. Of course. I’ll file his passing with the Keepers of the Registry, as protocol states.”

The other men stay quiet and motionless until Belial departs from their house.

“You used your compulsion on a council member,” says Yangyang, and even his voice is trembling when he speaks.

“I didn’t think that was possible,” Xiaojun notes, though his tone is more irritated than awed. “They’re all so much more advanced.”

That action obviously didn’t come for free, though, because Kun is holding his head like it hurts, turning away from the rest of them. “Such recklessness is not my style. Primitiva help us all. We’re all dead if we’re found out.”

“Why did you say that,” Sicheng deadpans, his words directed to Hendery. Even though Sicheng hasn’t said or done anything since stepping into the room, he looks thoroughly exhausted. “You almost gave us away.”

Hendery holds himself up on the bed as if he’ll collapse, his body bent with all the weight of their lies. He makes a motion like he might sit on the bed before remembering it’s where Lucas’s body is resting, and he straightens himself with some effort. “I...but he was thinking badly of Lucas. Like it was his fault.”

“It was,” Kun says faintly.

“You can’t let your emotions get the best of you right now. Just let me handle the talking.” Ten’s expression is stressed, and for a moment he starts to wonder if he should’ve ever said anything to Lucas at all.

Xiaojun shakes his head. “For now, there is a lot more we need to do than just talking.”

Vampire funerary procedures are much different from what many other supernatural races are used to—even blasphemous to some. Everything is handled at the home of the deceased instead of a funeral home or mortuary, in keeping with the tradition of honoring one’s vampire ancestors—and ultimately, the Primitiva Vampire. After the Primitiva’s gruesome death hundreds of years ago, all that had been left was her ashes once the fire burned out, but her followers still gave the remains a proper processing and burial.

The men dress Lucas in one of his nicest suits and perform all the necessary actions that would be involved at a funerary home, including preparing the casket. All of them help throughout this process as tradition dictates, though it is more difficult than any of them expected it to be. (No one even makes a dark joke about you’ll have to do this for me when I’m gone, which speaks to their inner turmoil.)

The viewing is equally challenging to get through, if not more.

Many of their vampire friends and acquaintances attend, including various members of the Association. Everyone seems to buy the blood weakness lie perfectly, which means Kun’s compulsion worked as it should have. That knowledge does very little to relax any of them in the grand scheme of things, though.

Though they know Lucas is not really gone, the sight of him lying there in that dark coffin with other vampires looking sadly down at his still face and dabbing their tears away is deeply frightening.

The night of the viewing goes by at a glacial pace, and every other night after that up until the funeral passes even more slowly, like time itself has dropped its speed to prolong the torment.

When the last few straggling visitors for the viewing are gone, the men go their separate ways to try to deal with the not-so-small trauma of the day’s events. Kun goes up to one of the manor’s several wide balconies, one that they’ve all used as a familiar hangout spot or simply a place to unwind over the years. The sun will not rise for another forty-five minutes or so, giving him enough time to sit and think before it becomes unsafe. He is not very surprised when he finds Ten already there, though he decides not to leave.

“You stopped smoking three decades ago,” Kun comments, waving his hand in a pitiful attempt to clear out the smell of smoke filling the air. There’s no hint of teasing or personality in his voice, only hollowness and exhaustion. He sits beside the other man in one of the chairs sat outside. “Where did you even get cigarettes from?”

“Don’t worry about me. This is just for the nerves.”

“Why would I worry, it’s not like you can—” Kun pauses before saying the word they both know, realizing it hits far too close to home right now. Silence falls between them until Kun asks, “Do you actually believe this will be worth it?”

“It will. We’ve worked too hard for it not to be.” Ten takes a drag from his cigarette. “We’re giving them a second chance. Isn’t that something to feel good about?”

“A second chance. How interesting.”

“Everyone deserves one.” Ten glances at Kun from the corners of his eyes and doesn’t say anything more, but Kun already knows what he’s vaguely implying.

“And yet everyone doesn’t get one.”

“All the more reason to take the opportunity when it becomes possible.”

Kun doesn’t reply to that. Ten places a hand on his shoulder, but the older man meets this with little regard as he rises from his seat and walks away at a sluggish pace.

You stand in the train station ready to buy a ticket, clutching documents falsifying your identity and feeling more terrified than you possibly ever have. Today marks the seventh day, and you don’t even know if Lucas is alive right now. It was too risky to have any of the other clan members contact you—not until you and Lucas meet up in the designated place. You know Aldriel is an excellent potion master, and if he says the spell will work as intended then it will, but there’s always that seed of doubt.

Your parting with Aldriel had been typical of your relationship with him—you crumbling before him and him pretending like he was fine, lending enough strength for the both of you to survive on, though you knew he was also bleeding from the heart.

“You better not forget about me,” you’d told him, smushing your face into the sleeve of his shirt to hide your tears, though there was no stopping the flow. It was staining his shirt sleeve right through.

He’d scoffed at you, though it was a watery sound. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.” He’d held your head closer against his shoulder, the both of you glued together in whichever way seemed fit when you’d walked through his door one last time to say goodbye. “We’ll see each other again. Don’t worry.”

You’d lifted your head from his shoulder then, looking at him with an aggrieved expression. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Aldriel put his hand on top of your head, petting you like a small puppy. It was a thing you’d disliked since you were both children, but which only made your heart hurt even more now. “Have more faith in me than that, dear sister. You’ll see.”

When it’s your turn to get a ticket, you step up to the counter and hand over your information, trying to keep the shaking in your hands to a minimum. The teller behind the counter is also a fairy, their wings tucked against the back of their uniform but peeking out at the sides. You childishly try to take some solace in that, hoping there will be some solidarity between you two. Maybe they’ll be less critical of your legitimacy than any other being might be.

The process is scarily easier than you’d thought it would be, though you are sweating the entire time. A fake name and birth date, and no one suspected anything. All of this would have to be your new identity now if you were to live with Lucas in Tianjin without being discovered.

Getting on the train when it comes is only part of the long journey ahead. It doesn’t provide you with much relief, but you are at least thankful to have one segment of that journey complete.

—

It takes another cab to get to your destination once you’re off the train, but you soon arrive at the house of one of Aldriel’s friends and his similar-name twin—Raziel. Raziel was Aldriel’s most trusted and oldest friend, their woven history extending back to childhood. The three of you had grown up together, and you’d even been quite familiar with Raziel until they left for Tianjin some years ago. Now, you’re back in front of each other again under circumstances that you never could’ve guessed.

“You’re here. Good.” Raziel welcomes you into their house with open arms, tugging you into a jittery hug that you anxiously return.

“Have...you heard anything?” you ask, though you know it’s futile. Raziel wouldn’t have gotten any more information than you have, not until Lucas was standing right on their doorstep. They shake their head and give you a sympathetic look, patting your hands.

“He’ll be alright. Everything will go well. I believe it.” Raziel guides you further into their house, presumably towards the room you’ll be staying in while you’re there. “It’s all so romantic, though—even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. I hope you know you’re doing a good thing, in the end.”

You force your facial muscles into a smile, though it is a ghostly and fleeting one. “Thank you.”

Either way, you will have to wait until nighttime to know if Raziel’s words come true or not; the sun is still high in the sky. It’s only midday. You’ve never before hated the sunlight, but right now you curse the sun’s rays that elongate the time between you and your lover.

—

“You all, give him some damn space,” Ten says, trying to pull the younger vampires away so they won’t crowd around the coffin. “He doesn’t need the scare of his life looking at all your faces when he wakes up.” Despite trying his best to be the voice of reason, Ten also has to refuse the urge to station himself beside the coffin and watch for the slightest movement of eyelids, the tiniest twitch of the lips. His hands shake from the frayed nerves of a week of nothing but death and gloom, and even though he doesn’t need to sleep, he thinks he will be out for at least two days after all of this is over.

There is no set time, no designated signal for when—or the dreaded if—Lucas will awaken. The waiting game feels longer than it really is, especially with the hours until the funeral commences steadily counting down. However, it is not very long before there’s a big sucking breath coming from the coffin, the sudden sound of lungs being filled after a week of complete stillness. Everyone rushes back to the bier when this happens, peering wildly inside the coffin.

Lucas’s eyelids flutter for an eternity before shooting open. He immediately seems distressed upon waking, sitting up out of the coffin so quick that it stutters on its stand, and the others have to steady it before it tips over.

“Xuxi...are you okay?” Sicheng asks, voice hushed with nervousness. Despite his unending anger and distress about the situation, Kun has also crowded in to witness Lucas’s awakening, and he visibly sags with relief to see the younger man is at last awake.

The look in Lucas’s eyes is wild. They are momentarily afraid that maybe something has gone wrong with the potion—maybe it has affected his mind somehow and he doesn’t remember any of them— but then he says,

“Y/N. Is Y/N okay?”

“We don’t know,” Sicheng replies. “I mean, hopefully. But it was safer to not have so much cross-communication going on—you’ll have to go to the meeting spot to find out…”

Though the reasons for this make sense, this does not provide consolation. Lucas fumbles his way out of the coffin with the men’s help. It’s clear he’s still disoriented, which makes them even more nervous, if that’s possible at this point.

“You should drink some blood before you leave,” Hendery suggests, and everyone else agrees. Lucas won’t argue that, so he downs one of the blood bags they have stored until he feels a little more like himself.

“You have to go soon, the funeral is set to start in another hour—we’ll have to leave—” Yangyang warns him, though the words fade at the end of his sentence. He doesn’t know how to continue his thought or how to even begin saying goodbye.

Lucas fills that gap by steeling himself and saying his farewells to each of them in turn, though his eyes are troubled and his chin crumples like he might cry at any moment.

“Don’t say I never helped you out with anything,” Ten says, a few tears slipping down his cheeks. Being separated is painful, but it’ll ultimately serve its purpose of giving Lucas a chance at having a love that none of them could. After seeing Kun suffer the way he did after losing Jingyi, Ten wants to spare another one of his mates from dealing with the same fate.

When Lucas gets to Kun, there is a slight awkward silence and a swift exchange of glances—Lucas’s soft gaze butting up against Kun’s more solid one, which is simultaneously pleading to him and rebuking him for his actions. Still, Kun embraces him tightly enough that their bodies could join together.

“Xuxi…” Kun starts, “I don’t…” And then his words break, leaving an unspoken thought between them.

“One day, you’ll forgive me for this,” Lucas whispers to the older man. Kun gives him an endlessly hurt look in return, silently asking him how he could even conceive those words. When they separate from each other, it’s with much reluctance. Lucas looks at them all and nods once, his mouth tight with grief.

“Right. Time to go, then.”

—

You awake in the middle of the night to cool fingers on the side of your face, which startles you completely out of your sleep. Opening your eyes to an unfamiliar room scares you even more, and it takes you a moment to remember why your surroundings have changed. The knowledge comes back to you quickly when a large palm slips against your own, long fingers twining with yours.

“Xuxi,” you whisper quietly, the sound of his name hanging in the air like a prayer. One of the last few times you’ll be able to freely call him that, except in private.

You can’t see his figure well with all the lights turned out, but he had no problem navigating through the dark to reach your bedside. Wanting desperately to see his face, you fumble around for the bedside lamp switch before turning it on.

“Y/N…” Lucas’s face is suddenly illuminated to you in all its golden glory, a myriad of emotions flickering over his features.

“I didn’t even hear you come in,” you say breathlessly. You’re somewhat sad and wish you could’ve met him at the door, embraced him after his long trip, but it doesn’t much matter anymore because he’s here now.

“Poor Y/N. My baby must’ve been so tired.” Lucas bumps his forehead against yours, his whole body drooping with relief as he practically sinks into you, and you giggle a little as you complain about having to hold his weight up. There is a tingle behind your eyes that threatens to turn into a sudden burst of tears, but you try to hold them at bay for a while longer.

“Are we safe?” he whispers, needing your confirmation. “Raziel said so. But...are we really safe?”

“That’s frightening to even think about,” you reply quietly. “We can’t stay here too long, but for now…I think we will be.” Lucas nods without a word, still holding your hand. His blood-scent is completely absent, as it usually is when he’s around you, and you know he’s used the blockers. Soon, with the ability to go out together and not be arrested or threatened for it, that will not be necessary to disguise his vampirism anymore. “It...won’t be easy.”

“No, but the things we want out of life usually aren’t.”

You squeeze his hand. “Raziel will help take care of things for us. It won’t all be trials and tribulations. I hope.” More hesitantly, you ask him, “What was it like? Being dead?” You know that vampires, being once human, still have souls and an afterlife to go to like most other living beings.

The look on his face is worrying. He doesn’t meet your eyes; he only shakes his head and stares at your joined hands. “It was cold without you.” His lips pull into a weak and chapped smile, if only to quiet your worrying, but that doesn’t work as intended. You decide to leave it for now, figuring there will be more time to talk about it when he feels ready.

Turning the light back off, you both press your bodies together as close as they can physically get, Lucas’s head on your chest and his long legs all jumbled together with yours. You fall asleep before he does, lulled away by his comforting and safe presence. He stays awake for a while longer, staring into the dark and the dark staring back into him, before everything else falls away.

[mianavs]

disclosing the truth

part 4 of Cathexis

a/n: a big reveal and another dangerous encounter with our favorite magician. plenty of Illumi to come in the next part

tw: smut

wc: 3k+

Cathexis

A night of fitful sleep awaited you after stripping off your dress, shoes, and makeup. Illumi visited your dreams that night, the way he usually did, except the dream was different. Your dreams of Illumi usually consisted of him walking beside you but, other times, he imprisoned you in the basement of his family’s estate on Kukuroo Mountain. This time was different in that you were in your current bed, immobile, and staring at him as he approached you. Illumi stoically reached out and brushed a lock of hair from your face while you stared utterly petrified. His hand traveled south until you felt a sharp pain behind your neck that blurred your vision and all you could make out was a cruel smile on Illumi’s beautiful face.

It was your last day at Heaven’s Arena. A call from your mother had come in that morning and you were summoned for a reunion back home. Immediately following her call, Hisoka called and asked to meet with you claiming it was important. While the little stunt he’d pulled the day before with his bloodlust had shaken you up, your impulsiveness overpowered your judgement and you agreed to meet him over lunch.

On the way to the café, your senses heightened and an overwhelming desire to not meet Hisoka overcame you. You pushed past your discomfort and approached the table where the magician sat. His smile was unusually genuine when you sat down but you matched it to the best of your ability despite the warning sirens going off in your head. Hisoka began making small talk but you were quick to cut him off; something that seemed to amuse him.

“I don’t have time, Hisoka, so if you could please cut to the chase and tell me what’s so important.” His brow quirked as he studied you until a text message flashed on your phone that captured his attention as well as yours. It was from your mother.

[Casual dinner at home. No need to wear the dress]

“Ah…you’re meeting with your family.” It wasn’t a question but you replied anyway hoping it would get him talking.

“Do you know who your family acquired the debt from?” His question caught you off guard but you didn’t like his insinuating tone and you grew irritated in a matter of seconds.

“No…I don’t.” Your body tensed uncomfortably at the grin that spread on his face. You didn’t like where the conversation was going but you couldn’t afford to lose Hisoka as a contact.

“…and wouldn’t you like to know?”

You sprang from your chair and a single word repeated in your mind as Hisoka’s grin turned sinister the longer you remained on your feet.

Leave

You disobeyed the voice in your head and sat back down. Hisoka could just be pulling a fast one on you but you still wanted to know—needed to know—what he said regardless if it was true or not. “Tell me what you know, Hisoka.”

“Have you ever felt as if you were being watched, Y/N?”

“Yes,” You answered wanting nothing more than to know what Hisoka knew and if it meant tearing down your act then so be it. “I know I’m being watched and I know who’s watching me.”

Surprise and something darker flashed on his face but it went as fast at it came and his face contorted to its usual smug expression. “But you don’t know why, do you?”

“I wouldn’t be here wasting my time with you if I did,” you answered bluntly. “But what do Illumi’s stalking tendencies have to do with my family’s debt?”

“Well Illumi told me the most interesting story yesterday. It was about a transaction that took place eighteen years ago between a family of assassins and a family of hunters. A betrothal between the hunter’s infant daughter and the assassin family’s eldest son instead of money for the debt owed to the assassins.”

The air thickened around you. You wanted to call him a liar and storm out of the establishment but you remained glued to your seat and processed everything he’d said. You opened your mouth to protest but the words died on your tongue. Denial and anger settled into your core and, in momentary weakness, your nen seeped out and enveloped you in wind gusts. It whipped your hair across your face and caused the table and its contents to shake. A scream from one of the patrons broke your fit of fury and your air settled then dissipated.

Hisoka frowned while you took a deep breath to relax and thought over the situation. It made no sense for Hisoka to lie about something like this. You thought about your parents and the parting advice they’d give you every time you parted ways:

“Always avoid assassins. They’re dangerous people.”

Did they want to avoid getting into more debt? If they debt was settled with a future engagement between you and Illumi, why work as hard as they did and make you follow in their footsteps as well? You got lost in your thoughts mulling over every interaction with your parents to recall some sort of hint of a betrothal with the Zoldycks. Nothing came to mind and you were more confused than ever until a possibility came to mind. Were your parents accumulating money to pay off the debt and liberate you?

“Looks like you’ve put two and two together,” Hisoka pointed out. You were about to leave but a startling thought crossed your mind that made you stop in your tracks.

“Does he know...we’re gathering the money to—”

“No, he doesn’t know.” Hisoka interrupted and the words left unsaid both startled and reassured you.

I didn’t tell him

You didn’t ponder too much on Hisoka’s motivations for not revealing your family’s possible scheme to Illumi simply because you didn’t have the head space for it at that moment. Uncovering Hisoka’s motivations would be a project for another time because you were certain that your paths would cross once again. While you were still shocked and upset by his revelation, you thanked Hisoka before leaving the café and heading home. You hoped your intuition was right and your parents were gathering money for that reason. If that wasn’t the case, however, you would need to prepare yourself for a life on the run because you doubted the Zoldycks would cross their arms and do nothing. They would do surely do what they did best; track you down and kill you.

Where the boisterous winds of your hometown had once filled you with joy, you headed straight to your ancestral home anxious about the conversation to come. There was nothing more important than uncovering the truth and with that in mind you bolted past the servants and grounds people stopping only when you were outside of your father’s study. With your heart thumping wildly in your chest, you knocked on the door twice and waited until your mother’s calm voice rang through the door.

“Come in, Y/N.”

Seeing your parents again after almost two years made your heart swell but the turmoil you were currently in stopped you from running into your mother’s arms. Instead you stood at the door with tears welling up in your eyes that cascaded down your face when a strangled cry voiced your distress.

“Is it true? Did you agree to marry me off to the Zoldycks?!”

They were too composed for your liking as if they’d expected you to find out about it on your own—like everything else in your life. However, this time you didn’t want to be on your own and wanted a normal life without an assassin betrothed and hunter parents you rarely saw.

“We promise you it will never come to that. We’ll pay off that debt even if we have to risk our lives.” Your father’s normally modulated voice was thick with emotion and it managed to expel your worst fears.

Your mother’s arms enveloped you and your father immediately joined her until they both held you in their arms each taking turns explaining everything to you. The debt your grandfather had accumulated from Zeno Zoldyck. The time the three of you were summoned to the Zoldyck mansion one day after your first birthday and your father was first made aware of said debt. With the three of your lives on the line, Zeno and Silva gave your father an ultimatum that he took while secretly vowing to dedicate the rest of his life to paying off the debt and saving you from a life as a Zoldyck wife.

Over the next three days, you and your parents counted the money you’d made since your last reunion and found out you were only a couple billion Jenny short of the original debt. You’d been relieved at first until your parents disclosed another aspect of your betrothal you hadn’t been aware of—the deadline of your engagement was your twentieth birthday. With your future at stake, you left home determined to take on as many jobs as you could and make enough money to cover the debt and any interest the Zoldycks would surely demand.

Your untarnished reputation among the jackpot community aided you in your efforts for employment and you were booked for three months straight. There was nothing more important than making money so you ended up ignoring Hisoka’s calls and texts. Illumi only checked up on you once, much less than before, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was due to your encounter in Heaven’s Arena. Whatever the case, he hadn’t confronted you which meant Hisoka was still keeping your family’s secret—that was until you received a text message from him after you’d finished a job.

[Getting tired of chasing you. Meet me in Swardani or I might have something to tell Illumi ♥]

Not knowing how Illumi felt about the betrothal made you anxious. He could either be your ally in ending the betrothal or your enemy and tell his family about your plan. In the end, you couldn’t risk it and set off to Hisoka’s hotel in Swardani.

You got to the lavish hotel late that evening and wondered if your parents still owned their condo in the city to avoid spending money on a motel room. On the way up to Hisoka’s room, a plethora of scenarios played out in your head about what Hisoka would want but the one that stood out the most was him seeking a payment of some sort for helping you. It was the most logical but his mercurial character made it difficult to predict what he would demand.

The door swung open before you could even knock with his honeyed voice inviting you in. You steeled yourself before stepping inside his suite and letting the door close behind you. Hisoka greeted you with damp hair and a towel wrapped around his waist. He led you to the sitting room where he took a seat and motioned you to so the same. As you followed him, you tried to look anywhere but his chiseled torso but your inexperience with men had you curiously staring at his chest, abdomen, and broad shoulders. The smugness on his face broke your trance and you focused on the matter at hand.

“What do you want, Hisoka?”

“I wanted to see my new favorite toy. I missed you, Y/N.” His spoke plain calling you what you were to him and you might have slapped him for it had you not been working against time. “I don’t have time for this. If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving.”

You stood up and walked away but Hisoka’s hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back. Ready to lash out at him, you stopped when you noticed his playful grin was gone and his mouth was set in a hard line. The voice in your head that warned you of danger begged you to leave but Hisoka’s bruising grip wouldn’t let up no matter how hard you tugged.

“Not so fast. You owe me, Y/N. You didn’t think I told you about Illumi expecting nothing in return, did you?” The singsong-y voice that contrasted his threatening words alarmed you and multiple scenarios played out in your mind on how to leave Hisoka’s presence without suffering too much damage.

“I have no money.” You bit back and he chuckled, pulling you forward until you crashed against his hard form. Assaulted by the sweetness of his smell and the smoothness of his skin, you were defenseless against Hisoka’s mouth laying claim to your neck.

“There are other forms of payment, Y/N, and I just so happen to be a flexible creditor.” He purred against your ear. A wave of heat spurged from your core and spread to your torso and limbs.

“N-no!” Ripping yourself from the confines of his body, you staggered back a couple of steps. “You can’t— ”

“Ah, saving yourself for Illumi?” He laughed and it triggered your wrath.

You attacked first using Ko to focus your nen to your hand. Hisoka easily avoided your fist but it was the powerful winds of your nen technique that cut his skin. You avoided the blow Hisoka aimed at you and dashed to the door to leave, only to be dragged back by an invisible force that wrapped around your torse and your bruised wrist. You stopped breathing when, with the help of Gyo, you saw the pink stretchy material that connected you to its owner.

“I knew you’d be a fun toy to keep around. Now, let’s have fun.”

He gripped your head and attacked your lips in a bruising kiss. When you refused to respond no matter how much he sucked on your bottom lip, Hisoka bit down harshly and you gasped. His tongue delved into your warm mouth and a moaned escaped him that sent goosebumps all over your skin. Hisoka wasted no time in laying claim to your entire mouth, humming in pleasure when he lapped against your tongue and you let out a helpless moan. His kiss fogged your mind and all your thoughts focused on the warmth of Hisoka’s heavy tongue and the bubbling pleasure in your core. Before you knew it you were kissing him back, mimicking his tongue’s movement’s with your clumsy one but his responding moans encourage you to go further. Despite your bounded state, you pressed yourself against Hisoka with the primal need to feel his warmth overtaking your body and mind. Without warning, he pulled away from the kiss and the two of you were panting when his Bungee Gum disappeared and you were released.

“I won’t force you,” he offered, the seriousness of his tone catching you off guard. Your legs moved of their own accord and you found yourself walking toward the door with the voice in your head telling you to leave quickly. The ache in your core was still there, however, and the apex between your legs twitched angrily needing release. You had never done this with anyone but Hisoka’s touch left you hungry for more, so you whipped around and rushed to him, crashing your lips against his unexpecting ones.

Teeth clashed against teeth as you tried to match his fervor. Under normal circumstances, you would have been mortified from your inexperience but all reason was thrown out the window and you focused was on the budding heat from your sex and Hisoka’s tongue languidly trailing down your neck. He ran his hands down underneath your thighs and hoisted you up while you wrapped your legs around his waist and gripped his pink tresses. He groaned in approval when you tugged on his hair and he took you to his bed where he set you down.

The two of you stripped out of your clothes in seconds and tossed them aside before falling back onto the bed and finding each other’s lips once again. Hisoka pulled away after drawing blood from your bottom lip and settled in between your legs before sucking on a hardened nipple while flicking and pinching the other with his fingers. You shook like a leaf from his ministrations on your breasts and whined when he released your swollen nipple with a pop. Amused by your frustrated whines he traveled down your stomach leaving a trail of wet kisses and bite marks. You hoisted yourself up your elbows to see where Hisoka was going only to fall back on the bed when he flattened his tongue and lapped there.

“AH!”

“Mmm!”

Jolts of pleasure shot up your body. You arched your back and trembled as Hisoka licked, bit, and teased your bundle of nerves. The pleasure that had been building since you stepped into Hisoka’s suite finally erupted with one last bite on your clit and the release you’d been chasing washed over you and left you trembling from the aftereffects.

The daze you were in left you vulnerable for Hisoka to have his way with you and you only snapped out of it when he buried his large cock in your tight warmth.

“AH! H-hurts—it hurts!”

Tears dotted your eyes from the painful stretch but Hisoka paid them no mind. He bottomed out until his heavy balls slapped your skin while you gripped the sheets and cried. You searched for any semblance of compassion in Hisoka’s amber eyes but they were clouded in lust as he bore holes into your own—he was lost in his pleasure and yours was no concern of his.

When the pain did subside, you wrapped your shaky legs around his waist to bring some much-needed friction to your clit. While Hisoka selfishly chased his release, you worked on yours by greedily grinding your hips against his. The friction coupled with Hisoka’s slow deep thrusts had your cunt creaming and every time he pulled out, a sheen of white covered his thick cock that he admired before slamming it back inside.

Hisoka was an insatiable lover and you quickly lost count how many times the two of you came that night. Each time his warm release coated your walls and trickled out of you when he pulled out, the sight of you, a trembling and moaning mess, caused his cock to grow hard again and he’d plunge it back inside you.

When he finally had his fill of you, Hisoka collapsed on the bed next to you humming in satisfaction. You lied next to him until your body relaxed and breathing evened out. Sticky cum covered your aching legs and you wanted nothing more than to clean it off and leave. Gritting your teeth, you slowly shifted your legs towards the edge of the bed until they dangled off and touched the ground.

You hissed as your body screamed in pain from the unwanted movement, but you were determined to leave that night—at least until Hisoka’s arm shot out and pulled you back down on the bed.

“Ah! What are—”

“Just stay. It’s late and your body is sore.” He murmured before turning around and closing his eyes.

The voice in your head vehemently opposed Hisoka’s proposal but he had a point, your body was in no shape to move let alone walk the long way to your parent’s condo or a motel. You sighed in defeat and burrowed yourself in the sheets, your back to Hisoka, before eventually succumbing to sleep.

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 21 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter*

Masterlist with all previous chapters

*****

Gwyn shuffled on her feet, readjusting her skirt, and silently cursed it for being in the way, she could still fight, but not as well as usual, and she'd lose precious seconds reaching for the dagger sheathed at her thigh. Azriel stood beside her, his shadows nowhere to be seen, either spread out around them to be unnoticeable, or hidden in the cloak around Gwyn's shoulders, her protests that she didn't need them having fallen on deaf ears.

"You okay?" He murmured, and she nodded,

"Just a bit nervous, I'll be alright once this first contact is over," because she could still fall at the first hurdle, Evanna had warned them that they would be scrutinized before being allowed in, even if they claimed to support the Illyrian rebellion. She stifled a smile when Azriel squeezed her fingers, their joined hands hidden beneath her cloak, but it was still a risk, they weren't supposed to be in love, she was supposed to be what the Illyrian would expect of a traditional warrior's wife, and a traditional warrior would never display affection so casually, possession yes, but not affection. If he were in love with his wife, which was rare, he'd still only display affection in private, just to maintain his image, it was one of the more ridiculous customs, Gwyn never thought more of someone than when they allowed others to see their heart. The palace doors opened and Gwyn squeezed Azriel's hand back before letting go and reluctantly dropping her gaze to the floor.

"Gavin was it, of the Skybreath Illyrian camp?" A rather young-looking man shouted from the open door,

"Indeed," Azriel replied, not shouting, but clearly making himself heard, "And my wife, Amirah," Gwyn suppressed a smile at the sound of the name that Azriel's mother had chosen, what she would have named him had he been a girl.

"We have no records of others from your supposed camp," the man's tone was low, dangerous,

"That's probably because they're all pathetic cowards who fear the repercussions of standing up for our people, ask anyone you want, I can wait, I've waited long enough for this chance, don't be the reason I lose it," Azriel matched the man's tone, but without shouting, he sounded altogether more dangerous, and Gwyn almost looked up at the feel of the man's gaze on her, fighting to keep her eyes lowered, her attention on observing the guards, the way their protocols were carried out.

"Fine. If we find out that you're lying, you're dead,"

"Good luck with that," Azriel's hand warmed her lower back, "Come on, I'll see who's made it here, then I want to find a bedchamber readied for us," Gwyn forced herself to start forwards, her bones screaming out at her for pretending to be afraid of him when she nodded, but stayed beside him when a guard moved towards them, pressing into his side at the first attempt to grab at her, "What?" Gwyn kept her frightened gaze on the guard, "Get your filthy hands off my wife," he snarled, an arm wrapping around her waist, reassuring for Gwyn, she was doing well, but to anyone else it was a display of possessiveness at a threat. "She stays with me until we reach our bedchamber, I like to know where she is, who she's with." He didn't even bother to veil the threat in his eyes when Gwyn looked up, keeping the guise of fear as she pressed against him, shying away from the guards, and allowed her gaze to dart around, marking who they were, how many of them there were, where they were posted, how alert they were. She ducked her head, following Azriel as they were led through the palace. It was just as they'd expected, with no-one taking notice of Gwyn, except to occasionally ask Azriel who she was, and then to ignore her and speak only to him, allowing her to memorize the palace, its routes, its staff, all while pretending to be quiet and unassuming.

She didn't want to watch Azriel walk away once they'd reached an empty bedchamber, didn't want to see him walking towards the enemy, all it took was one Illyrian who was high enough rank to have seen him, all it took was one recognition, and they'd try and kill him. Still, she couldn't tear her gaze away, only just remembering to make it appear that she was scared for herself, and wanted his protection, not that she was worried for him. Once he'd vanished from sight, Gwyn shot one more frightened look at the guards in the corridor and bolted herself inside the room.

Right, she did have to get the room set up, no-one was coming to do that for her, but that would take maximum half an hour, it wasn't like they exactly had luggage to unload, and then, it was a little after midday now, she'd have a few hours before dinner could be expected. Still, she was stuck in this room for now at least, she could make the most of it.

The notebook tucked into her gown wasn't big enough for every detail, not if she wanted it to last long enough, but she noted down all she'd picked up on guard movements, positions, who was alert, who was bored. It wasn't enough, she'd make a point to have Azriel find some other females to 'keep her from boredom' who she could help with palace tasks, laundry, cleaning, the Illyrians made their females do the chores at home, why not here? She'd be all over the palace that way, easily able to pick up information, it'd hopefully make their stay shorter, hopefully help with preventing a full-on civil war.

*****

Azriel couldn't dare glance over his shoulder to Gwyn, where she was undoubtedly waiting by the door to their bedchamber, even with every part of him screaming not to leave her with those people, to go back to her. He listened to what the male beside him was saying, he'd seen him before at Ironcrest, from a distance, and he was probably the highest-ranking males here, being involved in training and organisation of Ironcrest's warriors, he could be a headache later.

"Where did you find her?"

"Find who?"

"That pretty little wife of yours, I must say you're a lucky male with that one, I'd love to know what she'd feel like on my-" the male didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, breaking off with a choked gasp as Azriel slammed him against the wall, a hand curling around his throat, pure death shining in his eyes. "Whoa, calm down, I'm sorry, I wasn't gonna do anything,"

"I sure as fuck hope not," Azriel snarled, still not releasing him, fighting the urge to end him then and there, unable to shake the image of the last male who'd thought such things about Gwyn. "Touch her and it'll be last thing you ever do," the smaller male paled at the threat,

"I swear, I won't, I was saying she's beautiful," she was beautiful, but the way he'd said it, it wasn't a compliment, if Azriel hadn't reacted, maybe he would have tried something, gods, maybe someone else would. He wasn't supposed to care to like that,

"She's mine, understand?" He added, covering his tracks, the reaction was supposed to just be possessiveness, not him actually caring for her wellbeing, he wasn't supposed to be worried about that.

"Yeah, I got it," the other male was still panting when Azriel released him, "Sorry, dude, I didn't mean it like that,"

"Yes, you did, but I'm a merciful male, if you never speak of her like that again, I'll let it slide, she is beautiful, but she's mine." The male nodded,

"Noted," and took a deep breath before continuing to explain the set-up, "You're the only one from Skybreath, bunch of cowards, so we'll probably attach you to another camp, for numbers' sake, those bastards do have the advantage in that department, and they have the High Lord, and 'High Lady'," he snorted at the mention of Feyre, "But we can trust the humans to help with that,"

"How? They're fucking powerful,"

"Yeah, but they're just as susceptible to ash and faebane as the rest of us, I'd wager that they're not still taking that damned antidote. Then again, the higher-ups think we could simply kidnap their son and use him to get them to give in, but I'd like a good fight anyway, and y'know someone might end up just killing the brat, then we'd be in deep shit." Oh yes, if they harmed one hair on Nyx's head, Rhys alone was likely to simply mist the entirety of their armies before any battle, and that was if he were safety returned, at the latest, the day after he was taken, if it were longer, or if Nyx were harmed, there would be no safe place in this world for those responsible.

"Probably a bad idea that," Azriel mused,

"I'd reckon you're right, the bleeding hearts want to regain our loyalty, they'll just try and obliterate us if we hurt the boy," Azriel grunted in agreement, dropping the conversation when they turned a corner, the corridor opening into a wide chamber, filled with brawling Illyrians, a temporary training ring, not bad. He ran his gaze across the crowd, there was no-one likely to recognize him, but he still wouldn't draw attention to himself, even if wearing two siphons might do just that, but he couldn't risk it with only one, not with Gwyn here as well. He nodded a quick greeting to anyone who bothered to acknowledge him, his mind still racing. He'd have to find a way to make sure that Gwyn wasn't ever left completely on her own, if just one other male had a similar thought to the one beside him, and if he wasn't there, if she couldn't get her dagger drawn in time, he didn't want to finish that thought.

The Illyrians were well organised, not to the same degree as the loyal armies back home, but they could present a threat, especially if it was true that they were to be armed with ash and faebane. The leaders eventually decided to attach 'Gavin' to one of the smaller camps, where he'd be able to adjust more easily, where, Azriel noted with a hint of satisfaction, it would be easy to gain their trust. He made his way across the room to where his new 'comrades' were taking a break,

"Hey look, looks like they've given us the latecomer," Azriel's attention snapped to the male who'd spoken, dark hair cropped close to his skull, blue eyes, that was rare for an Illyrian, he smiled and offered his hand, "Nathan," Azriel took the proffered hand,

"Gavin, from Skybreath,"

"Oh, I was wondering if anyone would bother coming from Skybreath," Nathan chuckled, "Braver than the rest then?"

"Or more stupid," Azriel chuckled, "I've been waiting a long time for this,"

"As have we all, brother," Azriel resisted the urge to snap at him not to call him that, but forced himself to smile, to join in the conversation, and to not beat the shit out of all of them when they reclaimed a spot in the training ring. "How the fuck did you get your hands on a second siphon?" Nathan's observational skills left much to be desired, but it was wishful thinking to hope that he wouldn't notice at all, especially when Azriel had just pinned him to the mats.

"I needed it,"

"Fuck. We got a powerful one here, boys," chuckles surrounded them, and Nathan rolled his eyes as one of the others drawled,

"We know, idiot! That's why you're the only one stupid enough to fight him," another male laughed,

"He's probably some high born lord, or something,"

"Are you?" Nathan's eyes were shining with curiosity, something fairly rare for Illyrians, but he did seem young, untested, perhaps he had no idea what he was getting into, but Azriel had learned the hard way not to bother with the benefit of the doubt,

"Not really, my mother died a while back, and my father was your bog-standard warrior, nothing special really, he got killed in a border dispute a few decades ago, guess I just got lucky, the Mother likes me maybe," he shrugged, "It certainly helped on the way over here, since no one else came with us, it was just me and my wife, and she's not much help with fighting, y'know," chuckled from everyone, including Nathan,

"She clipped?"

"Who do you think I am? Of course," Azriel's temper flared up again at the approving nods from around him, only Nathan looked uncomfortable,

"You did it?"

"What? No, when she was young, like everyone else, but it did mean that I had to carry her here, which was a pain,"

"Still, bet you found a good one, being all powerful and shit,"

"Yeah, I'll have to go fetch her before we leave for dinner, I left her in our bedchamber, she'll want food," each word hit him in the core, even if none of it was true, the idea that this was normal to these people made him want to scream, but he guided the conversation back to the war, to what he needed to hear, even with his mind continually drifting back to Gwyn.

*****

Footsteps outside had Gwyn shoving the notebook back into her dress,

"Amirah!" She rushed to the door, keeping her eyes down in case Azriel wasn't alone, he wasn't, and someone let out a huff,

"Shit, how the fuck did you leave her all day?" One of the males beside him chuckled, "We'll see you in a bit," Azriel nodded and stepped past Gwyn into the room,

"You okay?" She mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear, and he nodded,

"I hate this, I have to pretend that I'm not hopelessly in love with you," Gwyn's stupid, faithless heart fluttered in her chest at those words, ignoring the way Azriel's eyes were dark, tired,

"Hey," she muttered, "It's okay, I know it's not true," Azriel's head snapped towards the door,

"Shit," he muttered, "They're still there, they're listening in, they won't have heard, but," Gwyn narrowed her eyes, and her eyes widened at the realization,

"They want to listen?"

"Moan, now, or they'll think something's up," he was right,

"I don't know what to do," she whispered, a feeling of true fear descending upon her, they'd gotten in, gotten embedded and he stupid, foolish fears were going to get them discovered, gods she was really useless,

"Hey, Gwyn," Azriel tipped her chin upwards, swiping his thumb across her cheek, "Just make any sound, you can't do it wrong, we don't actually need to do anything, just make them think we are,"

"But why? I don't get it,"

"They're all horny shits, and they've seen how fucking gorgeous you are. I've been away from you all day, they'll expect me to want certain things upon reuniting with you," oh, she knew what he meant, but just one day? That was surely excessive, but she nodded, and kissed him gently,

"I don't think I can just do it on command, kiss me, and then we'll see," she looped her arms around his neck, and did moan at the first brush of his lips against her neck, her head falling backwards so that Azriel had to hold her up, she moaned again, and he groaned at the feel of her lips against his, deliberately chucking his jacket aside so it made a loud thunk on the floor. Gwyn pressed her fingers against Azriel's lips, waiting, footsteps, they were really alone now,

"I'm sorry about that," Azriel muttered,

"What are you talking about? Kissing you is wonderful,"

"But I don't want you to think that you have to, even if it's for keeping our cover,"

"I didn't, it was just a chance to kiss you, and it was helpful to convince those others, but if I didn't want to I wouldn't have," she chuckled, "Are you sure you're okay?" Azriel collapsed onto the bed, dragging her with him with a yelp,

"I'm okay, just worried,"

"Worried?"

"About you. One of the males who showed me around made a comment that I didn't appreciate, and I doubt you would have done,"

"Did he seem like he wanted to act on that comment?" Gwyn stomach churned, and she glanced around the room, marking the locked door and windows. Azriel stiffened, realizing that she immediately knew what he was referring to,

"Not once I'd dealt with him, but all takes is one, I don't want you to have to deal with that, especially when I can't be with you, you might be on your own and," he took in a deep breath, "I just worry about what could happen if someone tries somehting,"

"I'm never on my own, Az," a shadow danced around her, "If I need to, I can fight with or without my dagger, and I want to find out what the other Illyrian females are doing here, there must be others,"

"There are," Azriel admitted, "They do the chores and stuff, help making and adjusting leathers and armor,"

"I can do that," Gwyn said, "It'll give me a chance to speak to them, to learn things that the males might overlook, and to simply be in the palace, invisible. I can 'get lost' and find my way to restricted areas, the queens' offices perhaps," Azriel pursed his lips together, but she was right, she knew he was, and no matter how much he wanted her to be safe, he knew that too,

"You're right, I know that, I just wish you didn't have to do it by yourself,"

"I know, but that's going to be how we have to work here, now," she twisted in his lap, "Tell me everything you found out today."

[ikeromantic]

Future-Speak

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic, approx. 2500 words of pure fluffiliciousness.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: An Uncertain Alliance

The inn was on the outskirts of Kyoto. It wasn’t as comfortable as the room they’d left behind, but Mitsuhide would not introduce dangerous allies to one of his safe havens. Besides, they needed a larger room to assemble supplies and hold meetings. This place fit the bill. 

He spent several days writing and responding to missives. Notifying his Kyoto weapons’ dealers of his needs, and keeping in touch with Kyubei on the hunt for Ashikaga. But most of the planning was waiting. Waiting to see if the remaining allies he called would come. Nevermind what he would do if they did.

Mitsuhide only hoped he could keep his emotions under control no matter the threat. They couldn’t risk another repeat of his first meeting with Motonari. Not only had it shaken him to react so emotionally, it had shaken his little mouse. 

Though she was quiet about it, her introspection and anxiety was hard to miss. Mitsuhide took every moment he could to comfort her but the effects were only temporary. She was on edge, and would be until this business was finished.

Mitsuhide was about to go out to meet with another agent when the innkeeper arrived.

“There is a man here to see you,” the innkeeper told him. He kept his gaze on the ground as if afraid to really look at Mitsuhide. 

“What does he look like?”

The innkeeper took a moment to consider. This wasn’t to remember the appearance, but to weigh the pros and cons of accuracy. “Ah, he isn’t quite as tall as you, my lord. And he has dark brown hair. Brown eyes. And . . . he wears a thing on his face. Over his eyes.”

“A mask?”

“N-no . . .”

Mitsuhide didn’t recognize the description at all. It could be some new disguise for one of his agents. Or an assassin sent by Ashikaga. Or anyone else entirely. He loosened his sword in its saya. “I do not know this visitor.”

The innkeeper bowed again. “Nevertheless . . .”

“Yes, let him up.”

The chatelaine stood from her work - sewing a more mobile kimono for herself - and backed up. 

As the innkeeper scurried out to fetch this ‘guest’ Mitsuhide positioned himself beside the door. He motioned to his little one. “Be ready to greet this man when he arrives. If he looks dangerous, I will kill him before he even knows I am here.”

She winced at his blunt instruction but nodded. “Only if he looks immediately dangerous ok? Dangerous describes like . . . half my friends in this time.”

Mitsuhide snorted. “It isn’t anyone from Azuchi.”

“Still. Let’s not murder some innocent messenger, ok?”

He wanted to tell her innocence was a commodity more rare than saffron, but she already looked worried enough. 

There was a shuffling outside, the sound of footsteps and then the door slid open. 

“I’m sorry to call on you so early in the morning -” he began. But he didn’t get very far.

The chatelaine flung herself across the space between them to wrap him in a warm hug. “Sasuke!”

Mitsuhide felt a twinge of jealousy at the way she smiled up at this stranger, her expression one of delight. Still, it didn’t seem that this visitor was an immediate threat. He let go of his sword hilt with only a little reluctance.

“Good to see you too,” the stranger - Sasuke - grinned down at her. “I really am sorry to just show up like this. I tracked your location because I have something important to tell you.” He pushed the chatelaine back, holding her by the shoulder. “Do you know what day it is?”

Her expression fell.

Mitsuhide stepped forward, tugging her away from the stranger. “Do you know this man?”

Sasuke held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mitsuhide Akechi.” His flat expression and tone did nothing to reassure the warlord. 

“And it seems he knows me.” This made Mitsuhide very uncomfortable. He was the man who knew things, not the one who was known. Perhaps he’d let go of his hilt too soon.

“I’ve been reading about you since I was little. It’s an honor to finally be able to speak to you in person.” Sasuke bowed. “My name is Sasuke Sarutobi and I’m a - a friend from her home town.” He gestured toward the chatelaine.

Mitsuhide felt one eyebrow rise. “Her hometown, you say?” He took a step toward this - this Sasuke and a note of challenge entered his voice. “Then you are also from 500 years in the future?”

“Galileo’s glass! How did you guess that?” Sasuke’s expression remained flat, but his voice rose with surprise.

The chatelaine blushed. “I told him, actually.”

Sasuke looked between the two of them and his eyes widened. “You two . . . are in love?”

Mitsuhide grimaced. “I wasn’t aware there was a second time-traveler here.” It made him wonder what other tidbits his little one might have kept back. And what delicious techniques he could use to get her to confess everything she knew. Like what a Galileo was.

The chatelaine stepped around him to face Sasuke directly. “Thank you for coming all the way here to remind me. But . . . I decided not to go back. I’m going to stay here in this time.”

Sasuke stared at her as if he didn’t understand.

Mitsuhide felt a knot of tension in his chest release. It was a worry he hadn’t realized he was carrying. But hearing her say this, aloud, and to a man from her time - it felt good. He found her gaze with his own and smiled. 

“I’m staying here for Mitsuhide. And for the other friends I’ve made.” The chatelaine returned his smile with a warm one of her own. 

Sasuke’s eyes finally narrowed again, crinkling a little at the edges as he shared their grin. “It seems we find ourselves in a similar situation then. I came here in part to tell you that I didn’t plan on returning.”

“You fell in love too?” The chatelaine’s whole expression lit up with joy at the idea of this stranger falling for someone in this time. It reassured Mitsuhide to see it, for surely, if they had been lovers, she wouldn’t be so pleased about that.

The stranger chuckled. “Not exactly. It’s just been a busy four years and I’ve gained a mountain’s worth of people too important to me to leave behind.” He paused and adjusted the contraption on his face. “Not that I would leave at this juncture anyhow. There is still the matter of Yoshimoto to settle, for one.”

“My apologies for interrupting you - Sasuke - but I cannot stay quiet after hearing that name.” Mitsuhide felt another stir of jealous venom. Yoshimoto. He still remembered the way the fallen lord of the Imagawa has looked as his little one that night at Honnoji. He knew too well what that spark meant in another man’s gaze, but the chatelaine was his. 

Mitsuhide slid an arm around her shoulder before continuing. “It would appear that you are more than a childhood friend. Who are you, Sasuke Sarutobi? And who do you work for?”

“Sasuke is, um, ah -” The chatelaine stumbled over an explanation before the stranger interrupted.

“It’s alright. Returning you to the future wasn’t my only reason on this visit.” Sasuke gave another slight bow. “I wanted to say thank you for what you did for Yoshimoto.” Then he turned to face Mitsuhide full on, not flinching a bit. “To answer your question, I am a ninja in service to my lord. Kenshin Uesugi.”

“Fascinating.” Mitsuhide tightened his grip on his little mouse. Yes. There were very many questions he had for her, and getting every answer was going to take at least one whole night. Perhaps several. Just to be sure.

Sasuke went on blithely. “Yoshimoto and his vassals were originally taking shelter with us at Echigo. When he disappeared, Yukimura Sanada and I were tasked to bring him back - which is how I wound up watching events unfold at Honno-ji. I witnessed how the two of you saved Yoshimoto and the remnant of his vassals.”

“I hope Motonari shared the popcorn,” the chatelaine muttered. 

“What?” Sasuke looked confused. “There was no - ah, I see.” The two of them shared another grin. “After the battle, I relayed this information to Kasugayama. And let me say, it is with thanks from all of us that I present this token of our appreciation for your actions that night.” He presented a little box.

Mitsuhide stared at the item suspiciously. Too small to be an effective explosive. Large enough to contain any number of sharp, poisoned items. Or a serpent, angry at it’s imprisonment. Ready to strike whoever opened its cage. 

Of course, his little one wasn’t nearly so wary. She reached for the present excitedly. “Oh, what is it Sasuke?”

“My very own homemade ground spike. Hand selected by me, for you.” 

She opened the box as Mitsuhide stood ready to knock it away from her should it prove dangerous. But, it was exactly as Sasuke had said. Full of small caltrops, perfect to slow and wound a following enemy. That didn’t discount the possibility that they were poisoned. 

Mitsuhide eased the box from her hands as she exclaimed over how sharp they looked. He set it on the table and put the lid back on. “Am I to understand, Sasuke, that you approached an enemy warlord with no weapon in hand, only gifts at the ready?”

Sasuke nodded. “Despite living the hashtag sengoku hustle, I maintain a work-life balance with emotionally fulfilling parasocial relationships.”

Mitsuhide took a moment to parse the babble. There were some actual words in it, but mostly, just gibberish. He looked to the chatelaine to see if she’d understood any of that.

She gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry for the future-speak. What Sasuke means is that even though he works for Echigo, he admires you as a person.”

Future-speak. So in her time, gibberish was spouted as a normal course of conversation. Yet another reason to question her . . . thoroughly. It reminded him uncomfortably of the space between them, even while exciting him at the idea of closing that distance. There were so many things about her that he had yet to explore. There’d been no time . . . not yet. But there would be, if he lived.

“Tee whiee,” Sasuke responded back with more of his impenetrable code language.

Mitsuhide frowned. “This insight into your time has made me lose all interest in the future.” Which wasn’t true, but he felt annoyed with this connection between his little one and her friend. Not that he would ever admit it. 

“Did you manage to catch up to Yoshimoto?” The chatelaine asked, moving the conversation back to shared topics. 

“We did. But now Yoshimoto has decided to take full responsibility for his clan leaving Echigo.” 

“I don’t like the sound of that.” 

Sasuke nodded again. “He said he hoped his vassals would be welcome, but that he was not in need of a home.” The ninja gave an exasperated sigh. “We couldn’t convince him to come back with us, even though a lot of people are waiting for him in Echigo.”

The chatelaine made a worried sound, her eyes wide. “I want him to feel able to go back.”

“Even his vassals couldn’t convince him to return.” Sasuke looked to the side. “Yoshimoto may seem to have his head in the clouds, but he has a will of iron.”

Mitsuhide listened to the conversation intently. He could personally care less if the Imagawa clan head lived or died. But his little mouse cared and so - he put his mind to work, turning the problem inside and out. Pride was often a useful tool. Fatalism as well. “I have a suggestion,” he said when the two friends fell silent.

“Out of respect for you revealing yourself to me, Sasuke, I will reveal something to you. I am planning to kill Yoshiaki Ashikaga.”

Sasuke nodded thoughtfully. “I suspected that was the reason the two of you stayed behind in Kyoto.”

“Mmm, well, should I fail here, I am certain Echigo would be Ashikaga’s next target. As this is assured, I think it may be wise to approach Yoshimoto with an offer of exchange.” Mitsuhide’s smile widened. “I’d like him to rejoin his allies in Echigo and bring the battle of dragon and tiger back to the Oda forces.” 

The chatelaine and Sasuke both gasped at the same time. 

Sasuke shook his head. “Could this be Akechi’s infamous betrayal? With me as an accomplice? A second - no a third Honno-ji Incident?!” 

“Calm down,” the chatelaine told him, though she didn’t look calm herself. “I don’t think Mitsuhide means a real war. At least, I hope he doesn’t.”

Mitsuhide gave his little mouse an approving look. “Correct. It will only appear that hostilities have resumed, when in fact, a temporary alliance will have been formed.”

“How does this help,” Sasuke asked.

“The conflict will draw Ashikaga’s eyes away from me, and that will give me the opportunity to strike.”

“Yes, I see. With Echigo next on the shogun’s list, Yoshimoto’s return would be riding to the aid of his allies and assisting in Ashikaga’s defeat.” Sasuke’s brows twitched. “Thus giving him two powerful and still noble reasons to return. Brilliant.”

Mitsuhide was pleased that he need not spell it out completely. “If ever you chose to leave Echigo, Sasuke, do let me know.” 

“That is unlikely, but thank you.” Sasuke’s lips turned up in a small smile. “I will take it as a mark of honor that the Mitsuhide Akechi tried to scout me.” He raised and lowered one fist in the air in some sort of bizarre salute or prayer. 

“You know, I could write him a letter.” The chatelaine spoke up.

Sasuke agreed. “A letter from you would be perfect. He is always very receptive to your suggestions, and I think it would cheer him up.”

“A little too receptive,” Mitsuhide muttered. Then said more loudly. “I agree that will be effective. But -” the words pushed their way out even as he tried not to say them. “You’ve never written a letter to me.”

“Oh.” His little one blushed, making one of the faces he adored so much. Her lips were just slightly parted, eyes wide. Cheeks pink. She held a hand almost to her heart. 

It made Mitsuhide want to pull her close and kiss her breathless. But they had a guest. The kiss would have to wait.

“I can write you a letter whenever you like,” she offered.

“Then you will write one for me first. Then. You can write Yoshimoto.” 

Her smile was so wide it looked almost painful. “You really want me to write you a letter? Even though I’m right here?”

Mitsuhide did pull her close then, lips brushing against her ear. Her hair tickled his cheek. “I would. The joy of receiving a letter from you would only be enhanced by your presence.” And then, just to emphasize and not at all because he felt jealous, he kissed the edge of her ear lightly.

Sasuke gave an awkward cough. “I-Is it alright if I interrupt?”

“My apologies.” Mitsuhide straightened. He wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

“Nothing to apologize for. I just wanted to say, when the letter to Yoshimoto is finished, let me know and I’ll deliver it immediately.”

The chatelaine giggled. “It’s second on my to-do list, I promise!”

Sasuke gave her another of his small smiles. “I believe you. And I think that is my cue to be off. I’ve left my contact information with your innkeeper.” 

“I hope next time you visit, we can have tea and chat.” 

Sasuke’s gaze slid from the chatelaine to Mitsuhide and back. “That could be very interesting.” 

“Very,” Mitsuhide agreed drily. Then saw the stranger - no, Sasuke now - out. What an odd turn of events this was. He returned to his little mouse with many things on his mind.

Next: Keeping Secrets

[vagrantblvrd]

Obi-Wan raises Luke instead of Owen and Beru, please.

Oooh, nice.

Because I am That Person I want to do the Satine lives AU (I haven’t finished Clone  Wars yet, but one of my friends has Strong Opinions about similar AUs).

Obi-Wan doesn’t leave the Jedi Order to be with her,because Duty, and all that with the war, but perhaps once the war is over he can?

But then Anakin falls to the Dark Side and it’s decided to separate the twins. Leia goes to Bail and Breha, and Obi-Wan is supposed to take Luke to Tatooine to be raised by his aunt and uncle, but.

Obi-Wan’s in his ship leaving Coruscant after losing Anakin the way he did and it isn’t a conscious decision really, that has him putting in the coordinates for Mandlore, doesn’t even register until his droid is like ??? and he sees what he’s done, and has this moment of oh, I didn’t mean to do that, did I?

He means to fix it, input the coordinates for Tatooine, a weavin winding path in case he’s followed, but stops to think about it.

It makes sense to take Luke there, no one would think to look for him, but the thought of leaving Luke, one of the last pieces of Anakin left to him to be raised by people who wouldn’t understand him leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth.

Regret, guilt, for failing Anakin so completely, and it’s like. Anakin has ties to Tatooine that someone smart enough might look into, might find Luke, but Mandalore? That complicated mess is all Obi-Wan’s now.

And it’s selfish, he’s being selfish, not wanting to give Luke up, thinks about the Order and attachments, but look where it got them in the end, you know? (His foundations have been rocked, shattered beneath his feet but if he thinks on it there were cracks, fault-lines long before that.)

So.

He calculates s winding, weaving course to Mandalore and goes to Satine where they raise Luke as their foundling, right?

They keep the whole...Jedi thing on the down-low, because ancient enemies but Obi-Wan and Satine’s inner circle know, because how couldn’t they?

Obi-Wan may go by a different name these days, but it’s close enough to his real name it wouldn’t take much thought to connect the two. Also, his face???

And Luke okay. Obi-Wan teaches him to control his Jedi abilities and such from an early age, but he couches it in games and play and all Mr. Miyagi with his wax on, wax off schtick kid of deal to keep Luke from accidentally giving away the fact he’s strong in the Force and so on.)

Meanwhile there’s an effort to dial back the animosity towards the Jedi, which meets with mixed results, because people. Also, also, over the years Obi-Wan encourages Satine to mend the rift between her followers and those exiled to Concordia.

Also, with mixed results, but with the Empire’s numbers growing it seems like a mistake to allow Mandalore to be divided.

They reach some kind of understanding, not entirely reconciled, but better than things were before.

In another meanwhile, Luke is being raised as a Mandalorian, and like Obi-Wan earns a set of armor.

But then!

The Purge happens, and in the chaos Luke is separated from Obi-Wan and Satine, the other Mandalorians.

He has his armor and a ship and the lightsaber that belonged to his father Obi-Wan shoved into his hands before they were separated.

Has to hide from the Empire because one thing Obi-Wan made sure he knew from a young age is that he couldn’t all ow himself to be captured by them, that they’d be looking for him.

(And on some lonely nights after the Purge when his nightmares seem more real than usual, some part of him wonders if the Purge happened because Mandalore refused to join with the Empire, or if someone found out about him?)

Anyway.

Mandalorians and the reputation for being fierce fighters and skilled bounty hunters and Luke is truly alone for the first time in his life. Little money to his name and his ship can only get so far before it runs out of fuel, and he needs ammunition and food to eat, and it’s just.

He finds work s a bounty hunter, and the first few bounties are part of a learning process. Thank goodness for his armor or he’d have been dead dozen times over the first month.

Still.

He’s been raised as a Mandalorian his whole life, maybe saw himself as an outsider because his Force abilities and the secrets Obi-Wan kept even from him, but he’s been training as a warrior his whole life.

(Pacifists, yes, but the galaxy is a dangerous place and perhaps more so for someone like Luke, so.)

Between the regular weapons and hand-to-hand and whatnot and Obi-Wan’s instruction with his Force abilities and his father’s lightsaber he’s quite the dangerous individual.

He keeps running into this Corellian smuggler and his Wookie co-pilot, and sometimes he turns a blind eye to their antics if he’s tracking someone else. (In return Han’s willing to let information slip to Luke, for the price of a drink or a meal, and of course he’d never say no to an outright gift of credits, so.)

There’s a miscommunication on a job, once. Luke after a bail jumper and this other Mandalorian with a silver helmet who wants the pilot Luke’s bounty hired.

There’s a bit of a fight, nothing serious before it occurs to Luke that the aforementioned pilot looked a little too panicky at the sight of the other Mandalorian to be fully innocent. (Also, it’s Mos Eisley. Innocent people are exceedingly rare here.)

It’s the first time Luke’s worked with another Mandalorian on a bounty, and it’s actually kind of nice. (Although he suspects the other Mandalorian may have ties to The Tribe, but it’s the least of his problems at the moment and the man makes for good company.)

Anyway, anyway, at some point Luke runs into Ahsoka - and he knows her. Obi-Wan and his secrets and she’s safe, she can help him.

At first she’s reluctant, because look what happened to Anakin, what if she’s resposnsible for the same happening to Luke? But he finds a way to convince her - stubborn like Anakin, if not worse - and she takes up his training where Obi-Wan left off.

She’ll lave from time to time because Rebellion shenaigans, and sometimes Luke goes along to help.

And then word through Luke or Ahsoka’s contacts about Leia being taken prisoner and important plans and they’re so far out they might not make it in time.

“I know someone who might help?” Luke offers, because he and Han are hardly friends (they kind of are though), and the Falcon is one of the fastest ships out there even if she doesn’t look like it.

So, side trip to Tatooine and Han is just “Oh, come on, you too? What is with today?” because Greedo and Luke being a bounty hunter and Ahsoka is super unimpressed.

Once Luke explains what he needs, Han is like “NO,” but Luke convinces him and Han reluctantly agrees (but then Jabba and that whole mess and it’s kind of a disaster getting off Tatooine but they make it so everything’s fine.

Before they leave though, there’s this weird hermit they run into and emotional reunions because Obi-Wan and he thought Luke was dead and what has he been doing? Also it’s very nice to see you again, Ahsoka, you look well.

Luke going up to the cockpit to give them privacy for their part of the reunion and sharing information and all that.

And then rescuing Leia and Luke in his beskar getting between Obi-Wan and Vader even though both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are incredibly not happy about that, but some people there were just going to let the sith lord kill them, and Luke is just how about no???

(Satine would never forgive Obi-Wan something like that Luke’s sure, and according to Obi-Wan she’s back on Tatooine still, so.)

Leia gets rescued and the Rebellion’s down a few pilots and oh, hey, Luke’s kind of not bad at that whole deal?

Obi-Wan’s needed as a strategist - and honestly, no one wants him out of sight after the whole thing on the Death Star - and Ahsoka with her Rebellion Thing.

Han comes back to save Luke’s life and Luke destroys the Death Star and happy ending for now?

But Luke knows there’s something about Vader and Luke himself that has Obi-Wan and Ahsoka deeply worried. (When he thinks about it there are a few reasons why that might be, but he does his best not to dwell on it.)

Anyway.

The usual Star Wars shenanigans but with Mandalorian!Luke with his armor and whatnot.

Confrontations between Luke and Vader go a little differently because of Luke’s armor? But the hand thing still happens because parallels or some nonsense, idk.

(Anakin’s not the only one who has to remove their helmet on the second Death Star and so on.)

Leia has mixed feelings about the whole Boba Fett putting Han in carbonite because Luke’s used the same method on some of his bounties in the past. (The violent dangerous ones that posed a risk to him transporting them the guild, though, but it doesn’t matter to Leia at the time.)

After the destruction of the second Death Star there’s talk, idle, unsure about forming a school to teach the next generation of Jedi?

Because Force-sensitive kids and there must be a better way, a balance between the ole Jedi Order and a new one.

Until then, Luke is curious about the whole Jedi thing, goes looking for relics and whatnot. (Maybe does some bounty hunting every so often, because why not.)

Satine wants to go back to Mandalore, help her people if she can and Obi-Wan goes with her because not a lot of reason to stick around Tatooine otherwise.

And then!

This call for help through the Force and Luke following it to an Imperial light cruiser and Din being very, very confused at seeing a Mandalorian with a lightsaber?

Is it like Bo-Katan’s Darksaber? Will one of them have to change? So confused. (Also though, possible concussion from his fight with the Dark Trooper, but yes.)

“Are you a Jedi?” Din asks, feeling that it’s a valid question because Mandalorians and Jedis and ancient enemies????

And yet.

Luke is like, hey, it’s you! Because silver helmet and remember that time we got into a fight on Tatooine? But also, also, hello Aunt Bo-Katan and friends.

Mainly though, Grogu who is kind of losing his tiny little mind because Mandalorian? But also Jedi? But Mandalorian???

And then shenanigans in which Luke is like, huh, about the Darksaber and poor Din who wants nothing to do with it. His adopted mother who wants to help her people but afraid they won’t listen to her after what the Empire’s done them and is like.

Strangely convenient, but he’ll take it.

They stop by the closest New Republic planet or outpost to hand Gideon and whatever other Imperials are still on board over and then head to Mandalore.

Din is still so very confused, but it doesn’t seem like Luke plans to take Grogu away and he’ll take what he can get. (So sure Luke will take Grogu far away at some point, but tries not to think too hard about that.)

And then the whole working at calling Mandalorians home - Din is super unsure about being the new ruler of Mandalore, but once Bo-Katan and Satine have a chat about the fure of their world they’re like, “He’s perfect for the role.”

Just needs a little help, and with them and Obi-Wan and other trusted people to help him, something great could come of it.

Luke stays on Mandalore - his home more than anywhere else in the galaxy - and he and Obi-Wan train Grogu. Ahsoka too, when she visits.

Once Mandalore and its people are more settled there’s talk of joining the New Republic, right?

Leia as the New Republic’s representative, and Obi-Wan one of Din’s advisors, negotiators and it seems as though good things will happen there too.

But!

Also!

Luke who grew up on Mandalore helping introduce Din to it? Teach him about this world he’s never seen, but is important in its own way more than ever now.

And little Grogu and all that.

Keldabe kisses in a courtyard on a night when Luke’s meditating outside, Din restless after tucking Grogu in and happens across Luke.

Understands that Luke doesn’t follow the Creed the way Din does, but he was raised as a Mandalorian and Din’s seen him in his helmet more often than not and anyway.

Luke meditating in the moonlight and while Din was worried he might have interrupted, Luke opens his eyes and smiles, something about it drawing Din closer.

And it’s.

There’s been so much Pining, but this is Luke, and anyway, keldabe kisses, and Luke laughing at Din being so flustered by it, but Luke’s laughter is shaky, breathless and really, the man’s a hypocrite.

Still, the two of them stay like that for a little while longer.

[bard-llama]

Hello again! May I request Rorveth for the ship game again? Maybe prerelationship 2, General 1, 5, Love 2, Domestic 9? Have a good day

Always! Rorveth owns my heart and I can always talk about them lol.

Pre-Relationship #2: What was their first impression of each other?

Hmm. I mean, there was definitely some hate, lbr. But I think there was also a lot of admiration? Well, I guess it depends on what we count as first impression. When they first learn of each other or when they first meet?

Because Roche found Iorveth long before Iorveth knew he existed. Roche had a crush worked intelligence, analyzing data and putting together who their targets in the Scoia'tael were. So I think he and Thaler and other intel folks would have come up with code names for each unit commander that they knew of (probably something lame too), but as we see in the game - the Scoia'tael are PROUD of their commander. They cheer Iorveth's name as they go into battle. It would not take many confrontations to start to put names to positions. So Roche's first impression of Iorveth would be one of someone recognizing a skilled opponent. But it would also be heavily countered by the details of what exactly Iorveth is using those skills for. Because they probably have an office somewhere in the Temerian royal palace that's full of pictures stuck to bulletin boards and string connecting them lol. So he'd have front and center in his mind exactly how brutal Iorveth can be.

So when they meet, I think Roche expects to appreciate Iorveth's ability, but hate him as a person. But then Iorveth introduces himself playing the fucking recorder flute!? Like, that had maybe been shared in intel, but it was the kind of meaningless detail that Roche had never really paid attention to. Which was a mistake, as it turns out, because Iorveth is every bit as much a musician as he is a soldier. But Roche only learns that later.

On Iorveth's side... well, he'd first hear of Roche when Roche and the Stripes, on their first day, slaughtered an entire unit of Scoia'tael. So I think Iorveth's first impression would be fury and hate, but also, as time goes on and it turns out that wasn't just a fluke, he'd come to respect Roche as an enemy commander. Then they meet and Roche is so full of hate for killing his king and Iorveth wasn't expecting that to hurt, but it really actually does. And he tries to shove it down and ignore it, but the feeling lingers long enough that he ends up seeking Roche out post-W2.

General #1: Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

Following the thread above... I think Iorveth did, but semi on accident. So he goes searching for Roche after Saskia has established Vergen and doesn't need him quite so much and this longing just won't stop nagging him. So he seeks Roche out and basically manages to say something along the lines of "I can't stop thinking about you and I'm going to make it your problem". Then he proceeds to follow Roche around and criticize his attempts at guerilla warfare as the Temerian partisans kicked off. Roche finds this absolutely baffling, but like, Iorveth is more experienced with this sort of thing, so why not take his advice? After arguing about it extensively, of course. Ves thinks this is all a Scoia'tael trap and keeps a very close eye on Iorveth. So close, in fact, that she notices the way that Iorveth looks at Roche over the campfire in the evenings. And once she notices that, suddenly the signs that Iorveth adores her Boss are everywhere. And she doesn't really know what to think about that or whether to tell Roche.

Not sure what she decides, but she definitely threatens Iorveth. And actually, I could see that being the first step in them coming to like, actually respect one another beyond "wow, you can kill a guy pretty efficiently". Like, maybe Iorveth begs asks as nicely as he can that Ves not tell Roche, because he's certain that it would only ruin things. And yeah, the longing is still there, but it's not so bad now that he has Roche in his life at all. He is grateful for as much of Roche as he can get.

i think Ves would be perfectly fine with that at first, but as she grows to appreciate Iorveth more as a person, she starts to feel bad. Because like, he very clearly loves Roche. And yeah, he probably has complicated feelings about loving a human, but like...he so clearly does and it's kind of pathetic but in a way that tugs at her heart and she HATES feeling sympathy for an elf, but...

I don't think she tells Roche directly. But she basically tells him that Iorveth is always staring at him and he should ask why. (Roche: because we're enemies, duh??? He's watching to see if I make a move to shank him, isn't he?)

General #5: What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Oh man, okay, this one is fun to play with. So, Roche is shorter than everyone most people and he is resentful about it. That whole thing about shorter people being closer to hell? Yeah, he is that 100%.

Iorveth, of course, enjoys very much that he is taller and will 100% grab Roche's paperwork or something and hold it out of reach just to enjoy Roche attempting to climb him to annoy Roche.

For age difference, I hc Roche as late 40s and Iorveth as around 1300, so it's a pretty big difference lol. I go back and forth on what elves think of such age differences, 'cause like... 40 is the age of majority for elves, so I could see them pointing at tired and wrinkled Roche and going, "that is a baby!"

But also, realistically, if they live so long (which they don't in canon, oops), i think they'd be a little more blase about age differences, as long as they're over the age of majority for their culture. Especially considering that they lost basically an entire generation of elves with Ailerinn's failed uprising + other pogroms like the cleansing of Loc Muinne, so like, the only elves left are either really old (pre-Conjunction) or really pretty young (200-300yo max, I think). So even if they don't already not care that much about age differences, I think they'd have to learn to, because there's not a lotta other options left.

(Not to derail, but Isengrim being torn up over being so much older than Eldain could be really, really fun, so I might ignore this lmao)

Love #2: What are their primary love languages?

Ooooh, Roche's is definitely touch! Just soft, casual touches, like a hand on the back or the shoulder, or just brushing their arms against each other or knocking their shoulders together to show that he's here. I think his receiving language might be more words of affirmation than touch, though. But that could be due to trauma/the fact that everyone in court does one thing and says another. So like, Foltest will clap him on the shoulder and then also go send him to torture someone. But then he'll also say 'good job' when Roche gets the intel they needed. So he has... kind of a fucked up relationship with both ideas, honestly.

Okay, I couldn't remember all 5 love languages, so I looked them up and fuck, Roche is very much acts of service, too. But in a self-sacrificing way.

Iorveth... hmm. I could see maybe receiving gifts just because it was such a rare and exciting thing when he was young. But along the same veins, I think quality time would mean a lot to him, because his family never made time for him. He always felt like he was in the way/bothering them while they're busy and hasn't fully yet come to understand that they should have made the time for him. So when Roche does things like call off work for the day to do something with Iorveth? Iorveth absolutely melts. I don't think he previously understood that time together could be precious, not because it's limited, but because it is special.

Domestic #9: Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Iorveth is a night owl. And very much NOT a morning person. Roche is also not a morning person, but he doesn't even get the exchange of being a night person, he's just eternally Tired. So I think Roche tries to encourage Iorveth to come to bed during the night, but is rarely successful, because Iorveth feels inspired. Fortuntely, Roche has ear plugs/enjoys music when he sleeps.

But when one of them gets really fixated on their work and loses track of the time? It's almost always Roche obsessing over some ig or small problem, and Iorveth will try to get him to come to bed, but usually he has to resort to physically sitting in Roche's lap/getting between Roche and the fixation. But once he's gotten Roche distracted, he can get some nice cuddles and/or sex out of it and Roche falls asleep afterwards.

But when they wake up in the morning and need to get up and go to work? It's always Iorveth who tries to persuade Roche that if he can't get 30 mins more sleep, then he could at least offer some morning sex.

[ddarker-dreams]

Yandere Giorno, Jotaro, and Bucciarati handling jealousy

Giorno Giovanna: 

If by some rare chance you haven’t been kidnapped by the Don already, you should expect to at least be under constant surveillance. After the next unfortunate series of events however that limited freedom you’ve been enjoying will all but disappear in front of you.

Throughout Giorno’s life, it has been a reoccurring theme that very few people matter a lot to him. Even more so now as having people that he cares about is a liability, due to the nature of his occupation and the enemies it brings with it. But you were the crown jewel of those who mean the world to him. Invoking feelings of love that he never experienced, it holds a strong weight. 

In times where he isn’t busy, he treats himself by either observing you (essentially stalking), or interacting with you. In the beginning of his obsession he still wants to make a good impression on you, so he tries not to come off too strong. That’s why he’s contenting himself with watching you at one of you favorite cafe, a rare fondness in his eyes.

He had already gone out of his way to speak to the owner of this cafe, instructing them to give you anything you want free of charge. It’s only a little taste of what luxuries you’ll have access too once you’re in a full fledged relationship with him, but Giorno wants to give you what he as soon as he can. 

Settling himself at an outside table, he switches between observing the bustling businesses around him and you. It wouldn’t do for you to catch his insistent staring after all, so he appears as naturally as he can. But that’s when he catches onto a waiter that seems to be coming to your table a little too often for his liking.

The way you smiled naively at the waiters blatant advances served to irritate him deeply. It was almost offensive to him in a sense, that someone would even attempt to wriggle themselves into your life when you are Giorno’s. He isn’t one to make a public scene, but Giorno retrieves this individual’s information in record time. 

Eventually he can no longer stomach watching you interact with this trash, so he walks over to your table and politely asks if you’d mind some company. Having already interacted with you in the past works off, as you readily accept his suggestion much to his relief. It’s enough to ward off the parasite from before. 

If you were paying close enough attention, you’d be able to see Giorno is more on edge than he’d like to give off. His legs crossed over one another, grip on his tea cup a bit tighter than it needs to be. He still engages you in pleasant conversation, but his eyes have a malicious streak whenever he spots the waiter from earlier. 

Afterwards he’ll deal with this insult himself. For now he’ll settle on removing their body parts and healing them so they can experience the pain nonstop -- but once he bores of their cries for help, he’ll have an underling take over with the torturing. No one can have eyes for you but him, after all. 

This would further excel his plans of kidnapping you and keeping you to himself. Seeing how others are capable of acting around you cements the idea that they might attempt the grevious sin of taking you away from him.

Bruno Bucciarati: 

Bucciarati has been working tirelessly to earn your trust and hopefully your affection. He has a dependable presence to you, always offering you guidance if you ask for it and taking time out of his busy day to converse with you. Whether it be in person or over the phone, Bucciarati makes it a top priority to speak to you everyday. 

He worries about you frequently, knowing fully how cruel the world can be from experience. Someone as precious as you should be protected in his eyes, and he wants to keep you safe. There’s a silent pride to this, knowing that very few people could have the resources Bucciarati does to keep you safe. It becomes a part of his identity, being the most reliable person in your life. 

When speaking to you over dinner, you express to him that you’ll be busier in the upcoming weeks and might not be able to see him as often. Bucciarati, composed as over, would politely inquire what it is that’ll be so demanding of your attention. At this point he basically feels like you’re partners, even if it isn’t official -- he treats you out so often after all! But doesn’t want to pressure you into anything... yet.

You explain that one of your best friends from overseas is coming to visit for a few weeks, and that he’s going to be staying with you. It’s ever so brief, the way Bucciarati frowns at the news instead of sharing in your excitement as he normally does when you speak to him on your plans. But he’s quick to catch himself and expresses he hopes you have fun. 

Afterwards every piece of information on this “friend” is discovered, from their blood type to where they study. The thought of this insignificant speck taking even an ounce of your attention away from Bucciarati displeases him greatly, and he’s quick to think of what to do about it. 

Killing this friend would be easy but counter productive for now. He hates the thought of making you sad, since you mean so much to him! So he settles on pulling some strings and having this individual’s travel visa thrown into chaos. 

You’re disappointed obviously, but in this time Bucciarati does everything he can to distract you and cheer up your sullen mood. It proves effective as you grow even closer to him during this, wanting to spend more time with this reliable person in your life. He’s always so sweet and considerate of you, isn’t he? 

If this pest continues to present himself as a problem though, Bucciarati will have to continue escalating the situation. Whether it be disposing of him and hiding the information from you eventually, or simply threatening him to leave you alone -- it depends on Bucciarati’s mood. If you ever got combative with him after being kidnapped though, it would be in your best interest to stop as Bucciarati’s reservations of killing this friend would immediately disappear. 

Jotaro Kujo: 

Jotaro choosing to be around you is typically enough to have most people keep their distance from you. No one is even sure why (including yourself) Jotaro seems to hang around you as often as he does, not that you really mind. While he isn’t the most talkative person, he seems to care for you in his own way and always listens to you. He can even often good advice and help with your schoolwork if you need it! 

You’re not even fully sure how to describe your relationship with Jotaro. You guess you’re friends? He only seems to spend time with you out of everyone else at your university. But when he’s busy you hang out with your other friends. 

Jotaro is always your go to when you don’t understand something, but lately he’s been busier than normal with a variety of exams. This lead you to asking one of your friends, Liam, for some guidance on a lecture you had trouble understanding. 

The two of you busied yourself in the library, him explaining some concepts to you before you both got off track. Eventually it turns into more of a social meet as you exchange jokes and pleasantries about life. However Jotaro ended up needing to go to the library as well, and spotted you chatting in a friendly manner with this... lecherous looking indidual. It didn’t sit well with him. 

Jotaro already has a persistent dislike of your current friends, finding them obnoxious and a waste of your time. To add to his irritation it looked like the two of you had books out that normally Jotaro would go over with you. It felt like Liam was infringing on a sacred bond Jotaro silently prided himself in having with you. Even if Jotaro would complain about you needing his help, he loved being able to assist you. 

Suddenly all of the work he needed to do leaves his mind, and he walks up to you and starts talking. It’s almost glaringly obvious that he’s ignoring Liam, who stares at him in return. Sensing some strange tension in the air, you ask Jotaro if he wants to join you; to which he eagerly agrees.

Every time Liam begins to explain something to you, Jotaro finds every possible fault within his words. “That’s not how this works.” Or stuff like “Good grief. It should be evident this is a trick question.” 

It’s an embarrassing ordeal for the both of you, and Liam eventually comes up with an excuse to stalk off after Jotaro humiliated him one too many times. When you ask Jotaro what his problem is, he doesn’t really offer an answer. He instead says if you need help that he can make time, and that idiots like that would ruin your grades. 

He means it too. At the drop of a hat Jotaro would be by your side if you asked him to, even if he gave off the air of it being troublesome. Jotaro wants to assert himself as the most reliable person you could find, and will do anything he can to keep your precious attention on him. 

[ilovefandoms102]

Love me Harder-Part 4

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Summary: Falling in love with your sisters sworn enemy probably wasn’t the best idea…

Note: Tik Tok challenge requests are still open for whoever wants to submit one! I will be doing them throughout the day! I hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know what you think!

Part 3 Part 5

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

Rafe and I became exclusive after that night on the beach…

It was weird at first being so open despite the odd looks from people. I tried not to think about it too much despite the comments and stares. I was going to enjoy my time with Rafe. 

This led to one of my rare days off, my legs perched on the dash of Rafe’s golf cart. My eyes trained on his muscles working as he played on the Figure Eight golf course. I squirmed in my seat a little from the way his muscles flexed, his hat perched on his head backwards adding to the desire pooling in my belly. We hadn’t moved past the heavy make outs with occasional groping, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ready for more. 

My experience with men wasn’t bad but it also wasn’t great. I’ve had my few shares of casual hook ups, boyfriends that didn’t last longer than a few months before the feelings died out, but Rafe was different. Maybe it was the fact that we had both wanted each other for so long, the tension bursting between us now that we could freely be seen with the other. 

“What are you thinking about so hard over there beautiful?” Rafe asked, startling me from my thoughts. 

“How good your ass looks in those shorts.” I smirked, earning a deep blush from my boyfriend. 

He sauntered over to me, swinging his club around to hold it behind his neck. Rafe leaned his head down to touch his nose to mine, sweetly pecking my lips before he pulled away. I moved my hands to feel the slight stubble forming on his cheeks, he let go of the golf club, and let it fall to the ground. In the next instance, he had my legs around his waist. Rafe leaned in to crush his lips to mine, leaning me back at an angle. I forgot where we were, and that people were literally all around us. My only focus was how good his soft lips felt against mine. I bit his bottom lip, gently tugging it back. He groaned, his fingers digging into my hips. 

“Come on guys, this is a family golf course.” Someone called, my head snapping to see Topper making his way over. Rafe flipped him off as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

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

I very quickly became uninterested in being at Figure Eight now that Topper decided to interrupt mine and Rafe’s hot make out. He stayed with Rafe to play a round between them which annoyed me even more. I didn’t get a lot of days off, so my mood was pretty much ruined. I saw Pope walking by, carrying some groceries for someone. I was going to jump up and help when Topper decided to make his way to him. 

“Well, well look who we have here.” Topper hollered, my feet instantly taking off towards Pope. Rafe had yet to notice either of us were gone. 

“Can we please give it a rest today, unless you want to deliver your own groceries.” Pope spat, dodging Topper’s reaches for the beer he was carrying. 

“Knock it off Topper, your tea time isn’t up yet.” I growled, stepping in front of Pope. 

“Leave this to the men y/n,” Topper hissed, shoving me to the side as he attacked Pope. 

I went into flight or fight mode, jumping on Topper’s back as he railed his fists down on Pope. I punched Topper’s nose, giving Pope enough time to wiggle his way out from under Topper. He reached back and pulled my hair, a scream leaving my lips from the burn. I tumbled down, scraping my arms and legs against the gravel. Topper grabbed his club, and swung at Pope. I was horrified as blood spewed from Pope’s lips. 

“RAFE!” I screeched, hoping to grab his attention. 

I didn’t look to see if he had heard me, jumping to my feet to run towards Pope and Topper. In a split second decision, I jumped in front of Pope, and took Topper’s swing. Agonizing pain tore through my body, a sickening crack heard as the head of the club connected to my ribs. Topper’s eyes widened, dropping his club immediately. I whimpered on the ground, keeping my eyes closed as I sobbed in pain. 

“Y/n!” Pope shouted, crouching down to me. 

“Go, run.” I whispered, giving him a reassuring nod as he took off. 

“What the fuck just happened?!” Rafe boomed, but I couldn’t focus on his words. White noise rang in my ears, my heart still thudding in my chest from the adrenaline. I snapped out of it when I felt a hand, Rafe’s hand, pushing some hair from my face. 

“Sweetheart, can you hear me?” he asked.

“Hurts,” was all I was able to gurgle out. 

“Tell me where baby,” Rafe spoke softly. 

“Ribs,” I choked.

“She just jumped in front of me man!” Topper exclaimed.

“Because you were beating a fucking kid Topper!” I snapped, flinching in pain.

“Can I lift you up, get you to the ER?” Rafe asked gently, his hands shaking as they stayed near my face.

“I think I can get up,” I huffed, having help from Rafe to stand. My ribs were aching, the pain feeling like a stabbing sensation. 

“I’ll deal with you later.” Rafe hissed as Topper, following behind me as I walked back towards the golf cart.

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

A cracked rib that would take a while to heal, the doctor was surprised that it wasn’t crushed with the severity of the bruise forming on my ribcage. I was told to not go back to work for at least a week, yeah, we’ll see how that goes over with my dad...

“So, you want me to cancel dinner tonight?” Rafe asked, holding my hand tight in his as we exited the ER. 

“No, I still want to go.” I insisted, nerves creeping in as I remembered I was having dinner with Rafe and his family tonight.

This would be the first time I would be there as Rafe’s girlfriend, and I was scared shitless. I knew my parents, or I should say my mother and my biological father, grew up with Ward and Rose. The tension was there at the Kook gatherings they made me attend since my mother had me when she was still in High School. 

“I don’t want you to go if you feel like you have to...you don’t need to suffer in pain all night.” Rafe sighed, assisting me while I climbed into the passenger seat of his truck.

“Rafe this is important, I want to make a good impression, and how is it going to look if I bail.” I scoffed. He had one arm leaning on the open door while the other was by my head, his blue eyes filled with worry.

“They aren’t going to give a shit if you’re hurt. Baby, please just think about this.” he murmured.

“I have thought about it, I’m going, and that’s final.” I growled, swinging my legs in the door. 

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

I spent the next three hours making sure every detail about my outfit, hair, and makeup were perfect. Rafe laid on my bed, scrolling through his phone while he waited for me to get ready. His constant complaints about how long I was taking was really starting to irritate me however…

“Babe, this isn’t a fancy ass dinner. It’s just my dad and Rose, and I think my sisters might be there.” Rafe mumbled, throwing his phone down beside him.

“I swear to god Rafe, if you complain one more fucking time…” I laughed humorlessly.

Rafe got up from his spot, leaning down behind me. His eyes met mine in the mirror, staying connected as he leaned down towards my neck. He placed gentle, wet kisses down the side, my eyes widening when I felt his teeth nick a spot just below my ear.

“Rafe!” I gasped, pulling away from him immediately. His shit eating grin earned a playful shove from me, his laughter booming through my room.

“I’m gonna kill you,” I gritted through my teeth, trying to cover up the bite to the best of my abilities. Once I was fully dressed, Rafe’s eyes surely would have popped out of his head if they had gotten any wider. 

“Oh Jesus,” he muttered, taking his eyes away from you.

“What?” I panicked.

“How am I supposed to sit through a family dinner with you lookin’ like that.” he blurted, a giggle slipping through my lips.

“Sorry baby,” I smiled, leaning up on my toes to kiss him.

“You look stunning, and I’m so happy you’re all mine.” Rafe whispered, butterflies racing in my stomach at his compliment. 

“Thank you Rafe, I’m happy too.” I spoke softly, giving him another sweet kiss.

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

I wanted to puke from how nervous I was, wishing I had taken Rafe’s idea to cancel. I was about to high tail it back to the truck, but before I knew it, we were entering the Cameron household. Rose smiled wickedly sweet at Rafe and I, Ward didn’t even glance towards us, and Sarah and Wheezie were the only ones to actually greet us. I felt awkward around Sarah with the beef she still had with Kie, and I knew she was also talking to John B. Rafe didn’t seem to notice my discomfort, dragging me to the dining room. 

“So Rafe, how long is this one gonna last?” Ward rumbled from his seat.

“Seriously dad?” Rafe questioned, his grip on my hand almost hurting. 

“I’m just saying...none of your other, um, exploits, really had staying power. You think this is gonna last more than a week?” Ward chuckled, ice flowing through my veins as my gaze went back and forth between the two men. 

“We’ve been together almost three months, I really care about her dad. Can we please have just a normal dinner?” Rafe exasperated, running a hand through his hair. 

“I mean Rafe...you know about her parents.” Rose spoke up, my head snapping in her direction.

“What are you talking about?” Rafe asked, irritation clear in his voice.

“Her mother’s track record isn’t exactly...well let’s just say she sure knows how to pick ‘em.” Rose chuckled, my shoulders straightening.

“I’d thank you kindly to keep my mother’s business out of your mouth Mrs. Cameron.” I spoke harshly.

“Honey...your real dad didn’t want your mother, he didn’t want you, so what makes you think our Rafe will have anything to do with you? Your mother was a slut, and you know what they say...like mother like daughter.” she pointed out, my blood boiling at this point. 

“That’s enough!” Rafe shouted, standing up so fast his chair raked against the tile. 

I shot out of my seat, tears pricking my eyes as I made my way out the front door. I could hear them all arguing, but I didn’t care to listen. My ribs protested as I let out a sob, my hand holding on to them as a rush of pain surged through me. I was prepared to walk home at this point, my feet carrying me on instinct. 

“Y/n, wait baby please!” I heard Rafe call.

“Can you please just take me home Rafe, I want to go.” I sniffled, backing away when he tried to reach out for me. 

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

“I’m so sorry,” Rafe whispered when he parked his truck in front of my house.

“Not your fault, I just...I definitely was not expecting that.” I mumbled, wringing my hands out anxiously. I looked from my house and back to Rafe, biting down gently on my lip.

“Do you...do you want to stay with me?” I asked quietly, looking down at my hands.

“Only if you want me to,” he smiled, my head nodding immediately. 

I did my nightly routine, checking the locks on everything before heading back to my room. I put a scrunchie on the door which signaled the kids that I didn’t want to be bothered. I left my fairy lights on, sliding in next to Rafe who was already cozied up under my covers. I buried my face into his neck, completely entangling myself with him. His hand traveled up my thigh that was laying across him, stopping at my hip to rub the skin that was showing from my shirt riding up. The rings on his fingers left goosebumps behind, the cold metal contrasting with the warmth that had spread from him to me. 

“For the record, I plan on keeping you.” Rafe smirked, pinching my skin playfully.

“Lucky me then, I get to put up with your dumbassery for a little while longer.” I teased, the both of us sent into a fit of laughter. Once that died down, Rafe tilted my chin up, kissing me tenderly.

“Sweet dreams beautiful,” he whispered.

“Sleep tight slick,” I yawned, snuggling up closer as I let my eyes close.

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

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