#ask-the-lord-of-castle-oblivion

[kitten4sannie]

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ

ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ/ᴏʀɢᴀꜱᴍ ᴅᴇɴɪᴀʟ ➠ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

pairing: vampire lord! seonghwa x human! reader (fem) feat. a two second cameo from vampire! san

genre: abo, kinda historical (think guilded era vibe but vampires and humans coexisting kinda), smut

summary: you decide to play with your master’s feelings during the annual masquerade ball held between vampires and occasionally their human counterparts.

w.c: 2.5k

warnings: alcohol usage, mentions of blood, general vampirism/hierarchies, dom! seonghwa, bratty! reader fucks around and finds out, dirty talk, ownership kink, exhibitionism/voyeurism, praise/degradation, possessiveness, pet names/name calling, manhandling, blood drinking, groping, rough blowjob, spit mentions, fingering, orgasm denial, facial, cum eating, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, l bombs

a/n: im obsessed with the idea of criminally insane cunty vampires so i sat hunched over like a damn shrimp and typed up a storm tyvm. also !!! this fic is dedicated to my dear friend orion @pluvialorion ilysmmmm ughh i hope you enjoy >< <33

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“Those two are always up to something, I swear. It’s so  troublesome,” one old age vampire muttered, complaining about you and your vampire Master to the person standing besides her outside of the ballroom circle. She adjusted her masquerade mask, put off by the sight of you downing a glass full of expensive wine. “Why the council ever decided to allow humans to attend our annual blood balls is beyond me.” 

“They always cause a scene,” the other old age vampire agreed, turning his head to watch as you whimsically made your way across the dance floor in your heavy laced dress, taking the hand of any vampire that wanted to dance with you, while your Master watched from the side with growing annoyance. “It’s unsightly.” 

“Yes, it’s completely inappropriate, the way they act like they’re the main characters inside some overdone fictional novel,” she scoffed, the vampiress getting herself worked up over nothing, her fingers clenching around her own wine glass filled with a blood blend. 

“You hit the nail on the head, or should I say the stake,” the undead gentleman chuckled, one hand on his hip, the other tilting his wine glass back to drink down its bloody contents, watching you trade one dance partner for another, surprised that you were letting a new age vampire get so handsy with you. “Oh, here we go.” 

Seonghwa reached up to brush at his flowy raven hair in a frustrated manner, his furrowed brows and scrunched-up face not doing much to dispel your current goal in pissing off your Master in hopes that he would chase you across the castle grounds and fuck you into oblivion. “You’re asking for it, little lamb…” he mumbled to himself, the bright red hue in his eyes growing brighter by the second. 

“I didn’t realize you were interested in me, Miss Y/N. Care to forget about your sour, old age counterpart over there and spend the night with me?” the charming, feline-like vampire you were using whispered into your ear, holding your body impossibly close to his as you both slowly rotated together in timed circles according to the flow of the orchestra music that was playing throughout the large ballroom. 

“Oh, Mr. Choi, try not to puff out your chest just yet,” you murmured back with faux pity, clasping your fingers around his cheeks, feeling his fingers inch closer and closer to your ass, able to feel the fiery gaze of your lover from afar. “You’re simply a puppet for my amusement.”

The vampire scoffed, still finding it inside himself to twirl you around and bring you back into his arms, his fingers clasping around your waist a little tighter than before, clearly irritated. “That’s quite rude of you, human. You could’ve lied.” 

“Does it matter? I’m not trying to impress you,” you huffed, eyeing Seonghwa out of the corner of your vision, noticing the way he clutched the edge of the aged mahogany table being used to showcase various blood-filled desserts. Just as the vampire was about to speak up, you shook your head, silencing him. “Just hurry up and grab my ass, will you? And grab it hard. I want Seonghwa to–Oh!”

The peeved vampire did indeed get a handful, his fingers sinking deep into your squishy flesh through your dress, leaning over your shoulder to make eye contact with Seonghwa, who was fuming, still having the gall to stick his tongue out at him. 

An intoxicating mix of anger and arousal coursed through Seonghwa to the point that it all spilled out of him at once, resulting in a short, aggressive shout, the other patrons looking over their own shoulders to see what was going on. Sadly, they weren’t very surprised to watch him lift up the side of the heavy dessert table and toss it across the room with a frightening amount of ease, narrowly missing the heads of the orchestra members. 

You let go of San who quickly scampered away, not wanting to feel the vampire lord’s intense wrath. You, however, took pride in seeing the way your lover was seething, how he pierced you with his dark crimson eyes and delightfully suffocating pheromones alone, his white, elongated fangs already on display for you, knowing he wished he could just sink them directly into the most delicate parts of your body. 

“Why are you so angry, my love?” you called out to him with faux naivety, giving him a pout, motioning to the mess that had spilled onto the sheer marble floor. “You ruined all those lovely desserts.” 

“And almost took the head off of a violin player, but I digress,” the older vampire from before murmured to her friend, the both of them chortling softly to themselves. 

“Oh, you know what you’ve done, darling,” Seonghwa tsked from across the room, taking slow, deliberate steps in your direction, his high-heeled shoes clacking lightly against the pristine floor, most of the other patrons stepping out of his way. “I have a question for you. Do you know what happens to pretty things that disobey their Masters?” 

You brought your hand up to lift off your masquerade mask just in time for Seonghwa to stand directly in front of you, his lean, elegant frame towering over yours. “I’m unaware of the answer, dearest. Do pray tell.” Your face twisted into something that could only be described as smug. Seonghwa wanted to wipe that expression off your face and turn it into something more worthwhile — flushed, contorted with a lovely mix of pain and pleasure, and painted in his cum.

“They get punished, my sweet. So, I suggest you hike up that lovely dress I bought you and get to running.” 

࿏࿏࿏

There was something so exhilarating about having the love of your life chase after you, knocking over furniture and pushing other vampires out of the way just to get his hands on you. You would look back occasionally, catching glimpses of the hazy blood-lust in Seonghwa’s eyes, resulting in a fresh wave of slick between your thighs. 

Somewhere along the line, you had ended up in the castle garden, your bare feet hitting the soft grass, having lost your heels during your chaotic trek there. Panting softly, your breath hitting the cold night air, you realized you were surrounded by chipping marble statues of vampires of the past, a maze of blood-red roses covered in thorns surrounding a sleek stone gazebo, and thousands of constellations sitting in the dark sky above you. 

“Caught you, little lamb…” you heard in a deep, gravelly voice, shivers making their way up your spine. Seonghwa took slow steps near you, finding it amusing how you trapped yourself in a corner, his entire being pulsing with sexually-charged aggression. “But you wanted this, didn’t you? You want me to have my way with you, don’t you, sweetheart?”  

Rather than replying verbally, you simply held up the front of your dress, showing off your plump, slicked-up cunt for his viewing pleasure, your lips twisted up into a perverted smile, lust practically emanating from your form. “What do you think, my love? Does my wet cunt give you any hints?” 

Before you knew it, Seonghwa had you pinned to the side of the gazebo, one hand on your shoulder to keep you still with his immense strength and the other underneath your hiked-up skirt, fucking you deep with two agile fingers, not concerned with the occasional passerby, some of them slowing down to witness the titillating sight of a vampire lord punishing his human counterpart.

“I can feel you squeezing around my fingers, sweet. Is my poor little lamb already falling apart for me?” he asked with faux pity against your neck, sucking your soft flesh into his mouth to leave a mark, piercing them lightly with his fangs. “Is it because anyone can come by and see the way I have my hand up your skirt and hear the pretty little moans that you’re making for your darling?”

“N-ooo, it’s because it’s you, Seonghwa,” you sighed out softly, a familiar heaviness filling your core until your legs went wobbly, moaning from the feeling of Seonghwa gulping down just enough of your life source to make you pleasantly dizzy, his fingers still slipping in and out of your leaking cunt.

“Mm, it’s a pity though. I wish Mr. Choi knew just how quick I can make your pretty cunt leak all these juices onto me,” he purred against your soft skin, slurping your arousal from his fingers before cupping his palm onto your hot cunt, lightly moving it over your clit, knowing he was pleasuring you just enough to make you squirm, but aware that your much-needed orgasm had faded away due to his control.

He brought his still dripping fingers up to your mouth, pleased that you obediently sucked your own slick off of them, his gaze flitting between your lips and love-struck eyes. “He’ll never see you like this. See the way you need me in every possible way I can have you…”

“It’s only for you to see, my love,” you replied lovingly, pressing your lips onto his, drawing Seonghwa into you like a moth to a blazing flame.

You shared a series of frenzied, heated kisses that consisted too much of tongue, teeth, and fangs, your hand slipping into Seonghwa’s loosened satin trousers to swiftly jerk him off, his abundant pre-cum squishing in between your closed fingers, your quick, unrelenting grip causing him to wobble a bit, the thick edges of his heeled shoes sinking further into the grass below. “Feels so good, doesn’t it, Hwa? You’re so hard for me, throbbing, leaking so much…”

“Fuck–I need you, darling, need you bare for me, need your pretty mouth around my cock,”Seonghwa groaned out onto your lips, nipping at it enough to get a small taste of iron on his own crimson stained ones. Without a word, he tore your dress from your body, pearls falling from your broken necklace and landing around your feet. You gasped. He clasped his hands around your corseted waist, bringing his face near your neck, his lips just barely touching your skin. “On your knees, my love.” 

You melted to the floor, reaching up to hold onto his hips, watching his cock spring out once his pants lowered past his v-line, eventually holding it in front of your drooling mouth. You studied him, your eyes traveling up his shiny, curved length to his pronounced pink head, sticking your tongue out to catch a drop of his pre-cum on your tongue. “It’s so pretty, Hwa…”

“I know it is, sweetheart. Now, open up,” he exhaled softly, slipping his slender fingers into your soft hair to clutch the sides of your head, plugging your mouth up with his thick cock. 

Seonghwa fucked your face so quickly, so sloppily, so desperately, he reached his end in a matter of minutes, bringing you down onto his cock until your nose pressed into his pelvis, feeling your throat contracting around him. “Fuck, you drive me mad, darling…I’m already about to cum….”

It was when he was able to smell the endless slick that dripped out of your needy cunt, that Seonghwa pulled out, rubbing his cockhead across your lips and smearing his pre-cum across your face, ruining the perfect state of your makeup. “You look so pretty, my love, but I know how to make you look even more divine for me…”

“Enlighten me, my dear,” you sighed lovingly, licking the warm saltiness from your lips.

“Watch closely. This is all for you, darling…” Seonghwa gazed down at you with his crimson, hooded eyes, his chest rising and lowering with shallow breaths, using his closed hand to milk his flushed cock, seemingly endless splashes of cum landing onto your face. “Mm, what do you think Mr. Choi would think of you now, little lamb? Think of your lovely face painted with my cum?” 

“He’d think I was a mess,” you mused, licking the bitter milkiness from your swollen lips, opening your mouth to take one last spurt of cum onto your tongue when Seonghwa moaned wantonly, his fingers squeezing near the pinkish tip. “He’d know I’m yours.” 

“My mess, my beautiful darling. Of course he’d know you’re mine. All mine,” Seonghwa sighed dreamily, lowering himself to his knees to pull you in for a deep kiss, your tongues and lips meeting with fervent need. 

“You think he’d enjoy watching you fuck me into ecstasy?” you asked in between heavy breaths and kisses, hooking your thighs around his bare waist, slipping your hands onto the bare skin of his chest past his loose blouse, your fingers grazing his nipples. 

“I’d take off his head, before I’d let him watch the way your cunt stretches open for me,” Seonghwa groaned, groping down your body, rubbing two fingers against your slippery folds, his fangs returning to your neck, this time indulging his instincts and slipping inside you, resulting in soft throes of pleasure from the both of you. “Speaking of, your little cunt needs my cock, doesn’t it? Is that why you’re so wet?” 

“Yes, please, I can’t stand being empty any longer, my love,” you whined to him, your squelching cunt already beginning to clench around his thrusting fingers, wishing his cock was filling you up instead. 

“You won’t be able to cum with just my fingers, will you, darling? Because your lovely body is only accustomed to my cock, isn’t it? Made for it, hm?” Seonghwa continued to tease you with his words, curling his digits inside you, resulting in increasingly heavy moans from his one and only, encouraging him to fuck you faster with them. “Fuck, you’re clenching so hard around me, darling. You’re so good for me…”

“Oh–my god, so close…” 

“Yeah? You want to spill your cum all over me, Y/N? Make a mess of me?” Seonghwa encouraged breathily, his forehead pressed to yours, pressing his lips against yours in between moans. 

“Y–esss…” 

Just as you were about to cum, you were suddenly filled with a devastatingly empty feeling, realizing he had pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, sucking your vast amounts of slick off of them. “N-no, please, Seonghwa, I want to cum…!”

“You’ll have to cum on my cock, sweetheart. Now, be good and take it,” he replied softly, his voice devoid of pity, the ridged edge of his cock hooking onto your clit and making you jolt, before he slipped inside you inch by inch, sending you back into a pleasurable fog. “I’ll breed you until you’re full for me.” 

“So full, I’m so full, darling.” You hooked your arms around his neck, holding him impossibly close, his lips already attached to your neck again, shuddering against him as he drank down your life-source, his cock offering your cunt a delicious stretch each time he pounded into you. “So good, Hwa, it feels so good…” 

“Because we were made for each other, my love, our souls always intertwined, forever, you’ll always be mine,” Seonghwa reminded you in between pants and soft moans, his raven hair already plastered to his forehead with sweat, love and admiration seeping its way through his lust-struck gaze, kneading his hands into your thighs, your warm, sopping-wet cunt enveloping his cock so tightly, he couldn’t keep himself from unloading wave after wave of his hot cum inside you, so deeply it reached your womb. “Fuck, you’re milking my cock, darling, just take it all, take it all for me…”

You couldn’t say anything, only letting out a near soundless whine, clutching the back of Seonghwa’s head, never breaking eye contact as you experienced what could only be described as pure bliss, your bodies and hearts melting together. “I love you, Seonghwa, so much,” you finally got out, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I love you too, Y/N, more than you’ll ever know,” he replied just as softly, carefully cupping your heated face with his cold hands, like he was afraid you would shatter into a thousand pieces and fall away from his grasp. Seonghwa was completely flushed, his long raven hair now a mess, sticking to his sweaty face, his plush lips a deep red. “Now do you see what you do to me, darling?”

You nuzzled into him, your heart beating against his quiet one, the cool night breeze gracing your warm, joined skin, knowing you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I think I have an idea.”

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[someweirdoreblogger]

When you ask Hades for piercings, don't expect normal clips.

That dramatic motherfucker always aims to impress in the most ridiculous methods possible. Damn him to oblivion if Hades doesn't aspire to give his beloved, only upmost, perfect quality gifts. You will burn brighter than any star by the time Hades is through with you.

This somber-ass bitch personally walks to the sixth layer of Hell, effortlessly ripping an obsidian scale off the gargantuan, spiked spine of one of Typhon's numerous monster childern and calling in a very personal favor to Olympus's famous blacksmith, Hephaestus-to forge him a very specific relic.

Earrings.

Hades gives every material needed, brought personally if need be. Regardless of how difficult to obtain and far more than what should be required, each object is just as increbily valuable as the last if not more;

A collection of infernal fire donated directly from Hell's demon Lords, lit forever til the dawn ends. It can burn the world's most stubborn of metals and the strongest of wills, a merciless torture of immeasurable heat. Life taking breath, a saltless tear from the sun's very own core. In other words, it is an unbreakable temperature for binding countless parts, God made or otherwise.

Black glass from Hades' own castle, clean and not too crisp. There's an unease sealed into it, a looming call to the dead. Sizzling sensations overcomes you and guides your fingers across the smooth surface, a temptation bleeding silk through the pitch black lens. Not quite a spark, but threatening to be, tingles dance furiously against weak mortal flesh and bows to the natural will of the gods who sculpted it. The trapped whispers of olden kings and queens and long gone gods, still in an accursed dream. Transparency shimmering blind in the darkness, guiding lost souls to their ruling god like cavern crystals for awaited judgment, void deep as a black star.

Anicent irons melted from fallen weapons, no longer bond to their respective masters, carefully collected off the immortal corpses of the ferocious Titans. Irreplaceable, priceless in fortuide, and pure strength. Indeed, diamonds in the collection of any invested exploration.

Hades waste nothing without a second thought, but these-

They live on now as a far more useful, suitable foundation miles away from their recent decaying forms.

Quite a long journey to craft these special earrings for you. These earrings saw glorious sights amany. Traveled to the very ends of the world; melted into a divine star by the roughest, most careful hands of Heaven, molded by Hades' most destructive calamities in the deepest, darkest nether.

And here they are, the Underworld's newest god-kissed relic, solely for you alone. Although Hades opposes the mere thought of difficulty-always the sincere one.

How could Hades complain when everything you wear shines like the Earth's finest jewelry-majestic, is it not?

Hera pales in comparison. Aphrodite will weep jealousy, in complete, utter awe of your wonderful accessories.

Do not fret over the details, Hades acts like it was the easiest thing in the world.

All Hades could ever want is to spoil you, the least he could do is make up for lost time, Helheim grows evermore busy every passing century, and Hades intents never abandoning his responsibilities. But of course, one of those beloved responsibilities is you.

The cheerful smile you answer in return outweighs Apollo's own boundless radiance. And while Hades strictly insists no payment back, who can't help but bite the apple from the tree?

[nine-blessed-hero]

Two Foxes

Universe: TESIV: Oblivion Warnings: None Words: 500 Context: I was inspired by @thenopequeen's tags on this post: "#anvil is home once I have completed the thieves guild #i like to imagine that I go to corvus for advice sometimes". I banged it out in like 2hs between laundry loads so LMK if you spot any spelling errors. Available on AO3

"Oh, and the Hero of Kvatch called by last night," Dairihill said, "asking to speak to his Lordship. However, your Ladyship and Lordship had just gone in for dinner, so I felt it prudent not to bother his Lordship." Millona Umbranox nodded, as she shifted the papers on her desk. "Did you catch that, dear?" she asked, over her shoulder. "Yes, my love," Corvus replied from where he lounged on the other side of the room, drinking coffee and pursuing the latest Black Horse Courier. "Curious they asked for you?" "I'm sure it's just a social visit. They are, after all, responsible for ending my amnesia and bringing me home." "Mmm. You'll have to invite them to dinner. I never did get to thank them properly." "Of course, my love. Dairihill, do you know if they're still at Benirus Manor? I'll take a walk down after breakfast." "I believe so, your Lordship. Speaking of breakfast – since it's a lovely morning, I took the liberty of having it laid out on the balcony." "Capital!" Corvus stood, readjusting his robe. "Will you join me, your Ladyship?" Millona glanced around to see Corvus extending a hand, giving her a boyish smile. She squeezed his hand. "In a moment, dear. I've a few more items to cover, and then I'll be out." "Very well, my heart," Corvus said, kissing the back of her hand.

~~~

Outside, the morning was already warm and bright. A salt-scented breeze ruffled his hair, as if it was glad to have him back in the castle. Beyond the crenelations, the sea glittered like a spray of diamonds on blue silk. "These are damn fine strawberries." Corvus startled, head whipping towards the table under the bower, hands reaching for an absent knife. "How d'you think they grow 'em so sweet?" the Hero of Kvatch asked. Their feet were propped on the table, and they held up a half-eaten strawberry for consideration.

Corvus smoothed down his dressing robe, regaining his decorum as he took a seat opposite the Hero. "I believe," he said, reaching for a slice of bread and the butter dish, "it has to do with the fertilizer used. Good to see you again, my friend. To what do I owe the honour of this visit?" "Ah, Foxie. Let's eat first, maybe?" "Millona will be out soon. I'd rather not alarm her by finding a stranger at her breakfast table." "Didn't I just hear her inviting me to dinner?" The Hero grinned. Corvus rolled his eyes, a small grin of his own creeping onto his face. "Touché. However, I don't think this is quite what my Lady wife had in mind. Your business, my friend?" The Hero lowered their legs, leaning in with a serious expression. "Very well, my Lord Corvus. I need some advice, regarding the Guild…"

Above, the gulls wheeled in the puffy periwinkle sky while below, the surf crashed against yellow cliffs. And in Castle Anvil, two Foxes conversed over strawberries.

[silentt-angel]

to love and to kill – chapter 1

summary: Draco Malfoy has been tasked with fixing a magical wardrobe and killing Albus Dumbledore. But he isn't the only Slytherin who received a task from The Dark Lord that summer - Magnolia Stellifer has to make sure that Draco doesn’t fail, and if he does, she has to finish what he started... An enemies to lovers retelling of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. pairing: draco malfoy x oc

1. A Beginning 

Sunday 1st September 1996

To say that Draco Malfoy was annoyed, would have been an understatement. He had only been at Station 9¾ for a total of seven minutes, and he was already cold, his new shoes were making his feet hurt and he was beginning to regret skipping breakfast that morning – just like his mother had told him he would. As if that wasn’t enough, some snotty first year student was wailing about something loudly right next to him. Had Draco’s mother not been standing beside him, he would have definitely hexed the boy into oblivion by now. Since she was, though, he settled for imagining all the things he could do to the boy with a single spell. His list was getting quite impressive.

There was something that was gnawing at the back of his mind that was annoying him far more than all of this, though – Draco missed his father. 

And he didn’t like it. 

Lucius Malfoy had never been the warmest of people, and certainly not the warmest of fathers. He could be stern and demanding and strict, but he was Draco’s father, and since Draco started Hogwarts six years prior, Lucius had been there every single year to see him off. It felt strange not to have him there. It made Draco feel like things really were changing. 

It also made him feel like a soppy git. 

Draco didn’t think he would care, and going back to Hogwarts was usually accompanied by a buzz of excitement he was certain would drown out any other emotions. This year the feeling was nowhere to be found. Instead, all Draco felt was a strange emotion he couldn’t quite put a name to.

Needless to say, so far, his day was going pretty shit. 

“Are you sure you have everything you need packed, dear?” Draco’s mother asked him, straightening the collar of his cloak. 

Any sign of summer had disappeared completely with the start of September. Everything was already cold and grey. The wind tugged at his mother’s hair angrily, blowing the black and white strands. 

It felt fitting. Having the sun shine over him brightly all summer felt sacrilegious. 

“Yes, mother. You’ve asked me that thrice since we got here.”

“I just want to make sure,” Narcissa said softly, drawing her hands away from him. 

Draco mustered up a weak smile. 

“I need you to be careful.”

“I will,” Draco assured her.

“I mean it,” his mother said. “I won’t lie to you, dear – I’m worried about you. What you are doing is extremely dangerous, so I need you to promise me that you will be careful .”

Draco swallowed thickly. “I promise,” he said. 

He hated having conversations like this with his mother, and they were having an awful lot of them as of late.

“And remember: the only person you can talk to about this in that castle is Severus. He is the only one who you can trust. Understood?”

Draco pursed his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard his mother use such a harsh tone with him. He didn’t fault her. Her husband was in Azkaban, and now her only son was risking the same fate. 

He wished his mother didn’t know about the task. Wished that he could at least take this burden from her. 

“Understood.” 

Narcissa’s eyes softened again. “I'm going to miss you very much, Draco.”

“I hate to leave you.”

“Don’t worry about me.” She smiled. “I shall manage just fine. I always do. Now,” she smoothed out her dark skirt, “I believe I have just spotted the Stellifers. Let us go and say hello and then you should be on your way.”

Draco felt the stares that followed him as they walked. He was used to people looking at him. He was a Malfoy, after all; everyone knew who he was since he was a tiny baby. This felt very different, though.

Death Eater. 

Scum. 

He’ll be joining Lucius soon.

Bastard should have got much worse.

Hope he rots in Azkaban like his daddy.

Insults were hurled at him in hushed tones.

“Do not listen to them.” His mother pulled him closer, shooting daggers with her eyes at anyone who looked their way. “They will find something new to gossip about soon.”

Draco replied with a low hum. “Unlikely,”  he said. “But I’m not concerning myself with what some mudbloods have to say about us, and you shouldn’t either, mother.”

“It does not bother me when it is me they are talking about,” Narcissa frowned. A faint line appeared between her brows. “But I hate it when they speak about my boy that way. You are right, though. We must not bother ourselves with that type of nonsense. People will always talk.”

To Draco, it sounded like his mother was trying to convince herself just as much as she was trying to convince him.

“It’s fine. I don’t care, really,” he said.

It didn’t feel good, but Draco was slowly getting used to it. He had to. Since his father had been sent to Azkaban, Draco couldn’t cross the street without hearing the words ‘Death Eater’ being spat at him. There was no point denying it or saying anything, really. It’s not like they were entirely wrong, either. 

“Now,” his mother smiled at him, “please try to look a bit less miserable for the next few minutes.”

Draco scoffed but mustered up a neutral expression. 

“Leonidas! Idris! Lovely to see you as always,” his mother greeted the Stellifers politely. “You too, Magnolia.”

Draco shook Mr.Stellifer’s hand and sent Magnolia and her mother a polite nod as they exchanged pleasantries. 

“Doesn’t time just fly? When did your Magnolia grow into such a wonderful young woman?” his mother gushed.

“Isn’t she just precious?” Idris Stellifer cooed, pleased at the compliment, a hint of French in her accent. 

It took a lot of effort for Draco to stifle a laugh.

He had only seen Magnolia once the entire summer, at the annual ball her mother organised. It was probably the longest they had gone without eachothers company their entire lives. Draco considered it one of the major advantages of the Dark Lord’s return. 

She looked the same as her had remembered her, in her brown overcoat. Maybe a bit older. A bit more tanned with a few light freckles decorating her slender nose that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps her hair had grown a bit over the summer too – it fell over her shoulders in long, dark curls. 

Draco felt his mother nudge him gently and realised he hadn’t been listening to the conversation at all. 

“Your Draco has had to mature incredibly these last few months, hasn’t he? Step up and be the man of the family,” he heard Magnolia’s father say. 

“He certainly has.” Narcissa nodded.

Draco hated these types of conversations. Hated how people would always speak about him as if he wasn’t standing right there. 

“These are strange times we are living in,” Leonidas went on. “We need to look out for each other.”

Draco thought that ‘strange times’ was a generous way of putting it. 

“We just wanted to remind you that if you ever need any help, we are always here,” the man added. 

“That’s very kind of you, Leonidas.” 

“It must be so difficult without Lucius.” Idris Stellifer gave them both a sympathetic smile. “I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like,” she said, and turned her gaze to her husband. 

Leonidas smiled at her gently and grasped her hand in his.

Draco couldn’t understand why people said things like that so often. Did they really believe it would make anyone feel better? It made him want to scream. 

His mother gave them a small smile that Draco had come to know very well in the last few months and said, “It is certainly quieter at home.” 

It was quite the opposite, actually.

“I’m really sorry to interrupt,” Magnolia spoke suddenly, “but I think me and Draco ought to go. The train will be leaving soon.”

“Right, of course.” Her mother smiled. "We wouldn’t want you missing it,” she said. “But before you go, let me give you one last big hug.” She pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. 

Draco turned to his own mother. 

“Do not forget to write to me,” she said with a tired kind of smile on her face.

“I won’t,” Draco promised.

“I know.” She kissed his cheek. “Off you go.”

He made sure to look at her for as long as he could before he had to turn away and start walking towards the train – to try and remember every detail of her face. Draco didn’t let the thought form into a sentence in his head, but a tiny part of him was afraid of that being the last time he would see his mother.

He pushed the thought away quickly. He wasn’t going to let it be. 

“Goodbye, mother.” Draco swallowed thickly before turning back to the others. “It was good seeing you, Mr and Mrs Stellifer.”

“Draco, dear,” Magnolia’s mother stopped him. “Would you mind helping Magnolia with her bag?”

“There’s really no need, mother,” Magnolia protested. “I wouldn’t want to trouble Draco.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, with a smile that he knew made all mothers like him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They walked side by side towards the Hogwarts Express, Draco stealing quick glances at Magnolia’s face. There was a tiredness in her eyes and a frown on her lips that he hadn’t noticed before. He wondered what could have caused it. It was difficult to remember what kinds of problems people who weren’t doing the Dark Lord’s bidding had. 

“You look ravishing today,” he drawled sarcastically, finally breaking the silence.

“Tiring summer,” was all Magnolia said in response. 

“Oh, right. It must be awfully taxing having to attend so many balls and picnics,” Draco said, with pretend sympathy.

“You’d know all about that.”

“Would I?” He smirked. “I don’t recall attending many tea parties this summer.”

She furrowed her dark brows. “What’s your problem, Malfoy?”

He laughed. Given by how quickly he had managed to get her riled up, it seemed he wasn’t the only one in a bad mood. 

It felt good to pick a fight – finally have someone to snap at. 

“Were the balls any fun at least?” he asked.

“Certainly the ones you weren’t at,” Magnolia snapped back. 

Draco would have been at all of them if Voldemort hadn’t been spending his time in Draco’s living room most nights. 

“I’m sure my company was dearly missed.”

She laughed back at him. “I beg to differ.”

“I’m doubtful.” 

“I wouldn’t expect any different, you arrogant twat.”

“Good, you know me well then, and you shouldn’t miss me too much now, either.” Draco grinned at her one last time before letting go of her suitcase, giving it a hard push towards the train tracks and strolling off, “You’ll manage just fine with that, I presume?” he called over his shoulder.

Magnolia stood where he had left her, giving him the middle finger, the two green ribbons in her hair blowing wildly in the wind. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It didn’t take long for Draco to find the compartment his friends were sitting in. 

“About time,” Blaise Zabini said, shaking his hand. “We thought you weren't going to make it.”

“I hoped I wouldn’t.” 

“But you’re here.” Blaise grinned. “And that means you owe me a galleon, Goyle. Don’t think I forgot,” he shouted across the compartment. 

Goyle groaned and started rummaging in his pockets. He slid a few coins over the table to Zabini. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, mate.” 

“I’ll be having a percentage of that,” Draco said. 

Blaise frowned. “We’ll see about that.”

“We were actually just talking about you before you came,” Pansy Parkinson said, changing the subject.

“You were?” Draco raised a brow.

“Just wondering,” Pansy said with a sickly sweet smile, “what Master Malfoy was so busy doing that he couldn’t be asked to reply to a single letter all summer?”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Some of us didn’t spend our entire summer sunbathing in Italy,” he said. “I’ve had to take on some of my father’s responsibilities. It’s kept me pretty busy.”

He noticed the way Blaise and Pansy looked at each other awkwardly, but chose to ignore it. 

“How was Italy?” he asked, in part because he wanted to stop her from having a go at him, but also because he was dying for a normal conversation that had nothing to do with the Dark Lord, and his father, and the war.

Luckily, Pansy didn’t need much encouragement. She started babbling happily about the beaches, all the food she ate, the people and all the wine she managed to swipe from her parents. Draco was grateful not to have to speak for a while. It was nice to listen to something so down to earth.

It didn’t last very long, though. 

“You know,” Pansy said, “apparently some people aren’t coming back this year.”

“Muggle-borns,” Blaise chimed in. 

Draco leaned back in his seat. “People are starting not to trust Dumbledore with their precious children as much.”

“Took them long enough,” Blasie sighed. “He let a bloody werewolf teach us.”

“Lupin wasn’t all that bad,” Pansy countered.

“Did you fancy him or something, Parkinson?" Draco joked.

“You think I’m into hairy guys?”

“I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours.”

Pansy rolled her eyes at him.  “At least he actually taught us something. Better than Umbridge.”

"S’ppose” Blaise shrugged.

The compartment doors swung open and the freckle-covered face of some Ravenclaw student peered inside.

“Hi, sorry, is there a Blaise Zabini in here?” the girl asked.

“Depends who’s asking,” Blaise drawled.

“I’ve been asked to deliver a message from Professor Slughorn.”

The girl passed Blaise a wax sealed envelope. Pansy peered over his shoulder as he opened it. 

“That’s the new Potions professor," she said. “He taught my father.”

Blaise scanned the letter quickly and scoffed.

“What is it?” Draco asked. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it, the mysterious letter had sparked some curiosity in him.

“Looks like I’ve got lunch plans today.”

“Who would have thought you’d be such a teacher’s pet, Blaise,” Pansy giggled. “Getting invited to lunch by a professor on the first day back? Must have been a busy summer.”

“What does Slughorn want with you?” Draco asked. “You’re awful at potions.”

“Beats me.” Blaise shrugged. 

“Maybe Slughorn’s doing special classes, for those most in need, this year,” Pansy suggested, smiling innocently. 

“Rude.” 

“Only logical explanation.” Draco smirked.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on either of you,” Blaise said, standing up. “Let’s hope the food is good. See you later.”

He left the compartment whistling, his hands in his pockets, leaving just Draco and Pansy in their booth. 

The girl pressed her forehead against the window. Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her jumper, each of them decorated with chipped black polish and silver rings. They both sat in silence for a while, looking at the rolling hills they were passing, before she said, “Isn’t it strange that we’re only going to get to do this one more time?”

He raised a brow. “Pansy Parkinson getting sentimental?”

She laughed. “Maybe a bit. Hogwarts is a shithole, but I’m going to miss it. I’ve spent most of the last few years of my life there.”

He decided not to tell her that he may not be there with her on the train next year. That by then he might be onto bigger things.

This was going to be a good year for him. Draco was going to make sure of that. It was going to be difficult, but it would all be worth getting his father out of prison, restoring his family’s good name and keeping his mother safe. There was a lot he was willing to do to accomplish that.

Apparently even murdering his headmaster.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Blaise returned after an hour. He already had a scowl on his face as he swung the compartment door open, and it only deepened when he couldn’t get it to shut again.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” he asked angrily, as he tousled with the door. 

Just as Draco got up to help him, the door slid open completely, and Zabini toppled over sideways, landing straight in Gregory Goyle’s lap. Pansy and Draco both erupted into laughter.

“Oi!” Goyle snarled. “Get off me.”

“You’re acting like I wanted to land on your fat arse!”

“We all know you like it, Goyle,” Pansy jeered.

“Get your hands off me,” Zabini spat.

“You’re the one sitting on me!”

“Keep telling yourself that, mate.”

Blaise leapt up before Goyle could shove him off and slumped down next to Pansy. Draco sprawled out across the free seat next to him. He listened as the two slytherins continued to squabble with a smile, when something white flashed before his eyes. Draco frowned slightly.

“How was it?” Pansy asked, still laughing slightly.

“One of the biggest wastes of time,” Blaise groaned.

“What did Slughorn want?” 

Draco was glad that Pansy asked before he had to. Blaise was always far too pleased when he forced someone to try and pry information out of him.

“Just trying to find some well-connected people,” he said, straightening his jacket. “Not that he managed to find any.”

“Who else did he invite?” Draco asked.

“McLaggen from Gryffindor,” Blaise replied.

“Oh yeah, his uncle’s big in the Ministry.” Pansy filled in.

“–somone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw.”

Pansy scowled. “He’s a dickhead.”

“Magnolia Stellifer was there too,” Blaise added, and Draco noticed the way he looked at him, searching for a reaction.

It didn’t surprise Draco one bit that she was invited. She was brilliant at potions – he had to give her that.

“– and Longbottom, Potter and that Weasley girl,” Zabini finished.

“He invited Longbottom?” Draco laughed in disbelief. 

“Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there,” Zabini said indifferently.

“What’s Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?” Pansy asked.

Blaise shrugged.

“Guess the whole Potter fan club scored an invite,” Draco sneered. “Even the Weasley girl.”

“A lot of boys like her for some reason,” Pansy said. “Even you think she’s good-looking, don’t you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please.” She wriggled her thick eyebrows suggestively. 

Blaise made a gagging noise. “I’d rather snog Goyle.”

“I don’t have a hard time believing that after what we just saw,” Draco teased.

“Not that I want to spend my free time with that old man,” Pansy said, “but I’m a bit surprised that Malfoy and I weren’t invited.”

“I wouldn't bank on an invitation,” Blaise said. “He asked me about Notts father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry, he didn’t look happy. And Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters. At least not convicted ones.”

Draco let out a single humourless laugh. “His loss.”

“We’re nearly there,” Pansy said. “We should get our robes on. Blaise needs all the time he can get in front of the mirror.”

The boy clutched his chest. “How thoughtful, Pansy.”

As they all stood up and Goyle reached up for his trunk, Draco heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a faint grunt. He looked over at Pansy and Blaise, but they were still going back and forth about something, oblivious to the strange noise. Draco continued pulling on his robe like he hadn’t heard anything and reached for his trunk. The train halted.

“You guys go on,” he told his friends. “I just want to check something.”

Draco waited until he couldn’t hear anyone in the corridor and lowered the blinds. He bent down and reached into his trunk, then spun around and pointed his wand at the luggage rack.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Just as he had suspected, Potter came toppling down from the rack, his head and torso sliding out from underneath an invisibility cloak. He landed right at Draco’s feet. 

Draco smirked down at him. “Hello Potter. I thought it was you,” he said jubilantly. “I heard Goyle’s trunk hit you and thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back… It was quite rude of you not to say hello.”

His eyes lingered for a moment on Potter’s face as he considered how much he could get away with. 

“You didn’t hear anything I care about, Potter, but while I’ve got you here…” Draco stamped down hard on Harry’s face. He heard a crunch under his shoes as Potter’s blood spluttered everywhere. “That’s from my father.” He kicked again. “And that’s from me.”

Potter’s glasses had snapped into three pieces and the glass had shattered, some of it slicing into his – definitely broken – nose. 

It felt good to see him so defenceless. The legendary boy who lived at his feet. It was his fault that Draco was in the position he was in.

“Oh, dear” Draco cooed cruelly. “You’ve made quite the mess.” He wiped his shoe on Harry’s shirt, then dragged the cloak from under Harry’s immobilised body and threw it over him. “I don’t reckon they’ll find you until the train’s back in London,” he said quietly. “See you around, Potter… or not.”

He took care to tread on his fingers as he left the compartment. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Does Potter’s nose have anything to do with what you left on the train?” Pansy asked Draco during the feast. 

“Perhaps.” He smirked, pleased with himself. What he did was going to be the highlight of his week. 

The Slytherin table erupted into laughter. They were silenced only by Dumbledore stepping onto the podium. 

“The very best of evenings to you!” Dumbledore said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide enough to embrace the whole room.

Draco groaned and buried his head in his arms. 

“Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you...” 

He mostly drowned out the sound of Dumbledore’s annual speech.

“...those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise. We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year, Professor Slughorn. He is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master. Professor Snape, meanwhile,” Dumbledore said, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, “will be taking the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength.” 

Draco lifted his head off the table at the name ‘Lord Voldemort’.

“I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle’s magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others’ safety.” 

The old man had no clue what he had coming. 

[nientedenada]

Titus Mede of Kvatch - A fun link between a scrapped Oblivion quest and the Fourth Era

Originally posted on r/teslore. In an interview after Oblivion, Todd Howard made this comment:

In regards to the politics comment, that's a valid statement, in that Daggerfall and Morrowind both have main stories dealing with a lot of politics, and that wasn't the story we wanted to do this time. There was a time that the Oblivion main quest featured a ton of that, dealing with the Elder Council, but we did end up cutting it while it was still on paper, in all our story reads, it really defocused the main quest from dealing with the daedra, which we wanted the focus to be. Anyway, I think the lack of actually seeing and dealing with the Elder Council is certainly one of my "I wish it had this" things, as we wrote some great stuff for it that just didn't make it in. It was the "nobility" faction line, where you made your way up and became "The Duke of Colovia" and sat on the Elder Council. The only remnant of that questline is the dead Duke in Castle Kvatch, which was to be the beginning of that line.

The dead duke is Ormellius Goldwine and you are asked to retrieve his signet ring, called the Colovian Signet Ring, from his body. He never gets a successor, Kvatch is never rebuilt (unless you download a mod.) It doesn't feel that weird in context. Oblivion in general has all sorts of interesting political problems lurking in the corners of the various courts that never get any quests. (The count of Bravil has hired a Dunmer Inquisitor to go after Khajiit rebels, for instance, and it just comes up in one conversation with the Inquisitor who does nothing in game.)

The player presumably would end up wearing the Colovian Signet ring and becoming Count of Kvatch in the scrapped plot Todd Howard described.

The Pocket Guide to the Empire, Third Edition, released with Oblivion, and written by Ted Peterson establishes that the Count had no obvious heirs. Though, mysteriously, it has a different name for the Count, because continuity even in the same game is not a TES strength.

Family strife in Kvatch claimed the lives of both sons of Count Haderus Goldwine, vying for the inheritance. While peace has been restored, the Count, at the time of this writing, is still in mourning, and has not designated a new heir.

With no heir designated, the Count died at the hands of Daedra, leaving the leadership of Kvatch ripe for the taking. And since it wasn't the Hero of Kvatch who'd complete this scrapped quest, Titus Mede I did.

Or at least I assume. It's never said outright in the books or games that Mede hails from Kvatch and took it over first, but it's hinted at. Let me lay out the bread crumbs of this trail.

Titus Mede began his life as an Imperial officer in Michael Kirkbride and Kurt Kuhlmann's Star Wars fanfic! (I also know that fanfic got a TES rework, though I haven't read either version in whole.) Titus Mede shows up as the new Emperor of Cyrodiil in the official novels by Greg Keyes: The Infernal City and Lord of Souls. Not a surprising transition, since we know Keyes was working off notes given him by the developers, and /u/mkirkbride has previously confirmed that some of the Fourth Era history in the novels originates with his ideas.

We don't get a full sketch of his biography. Here's what we know.

Titus Mede had been—and was—many things. A soldier in an outlaw army, a warlord in Colovia, a king in Cyrodiil, and Emperor.

Lathenil in "Rising Threat" will confirm this in Skyrim, and add an interesting little detail about the nature of Titus Mede's claim.

After seven long, bloody years the Stormcrown Interregnum was ended when a Colovian warlord by the name of Titus Mede seized the crown. Whether he had rightful claim or not is moot. Without Titus Mede, there would not be an Empire today. He proved a shrewd and capable leader, such that Skyrim endorsed him as Emperor.

"Whether he had rightful claim or not is moot" suggests that at least for propaganda's sake, Titus Mede made a claim of legitimacy. He deserved to be Emperor not only because he won the Civil War with Thules the Gibbering.

We also know that he started his career without any rank. His son Attrebus says

Listen-my father was once just a soldier with ambition. Now he’s Emperor. He fought for everything he ever got, and I was born with it. Who should be admired the most?”

So what was his claim? One more detail from the novels suggests the answer.

“You know what that is?” she asked, indicating a small black tattoo of a wolf’s head.

He did, of course. It was the Emperor’s personal brand, worn only by his innermost circle.

The Wolf's Head was the symbol of the Count of Kvatch.

Put this all together, and I think we can conclude that young Titus Mede the soldier first made a bid to take over ruined County Kvatch, on his way to greater things. He probably got hold of that ring to make his claim, since there was no obvious Goldwine heir. It wouldn't matter if people believed he was rightfully the heir to the Count of Kvatch if he made people recognize him. And the same would go for Cyrodiil and the Empire. Many of the Elder Council would privately turn their nose up at him as an upstart. His Nibenese Minister Hierem plots to overthrow him. But he outlasted them all and the Oblivion political plot got a triumphant ending, despite Todd Howard's decision to junk it.

I'm not, of course, the first person to put these pieces together. While researching this, I found that very active fan Pilaf the Defiler wrote a piece that makes the Kvatch connection. The full piece with Lady Nerevar's art is on her tumblr. The relevant paragraph:

The warlord Titus Mede has declared himself King of Colovia and musters an entirely illegal army in the hills of County Kvatch. This misguided bandit king does not agree with the wisdom of the Elder Council in placing his terrible majesty Emperor Thules of Nibenay on the throne. Sadly, the Elder Council has had to place severe restrictions on travel along the Gold Road for the duration of this so-called uprising. If you come across a checkpoint, don’t attempt to flee or go around it. This is for your own safety, citizen. By complying to the law and showing our good faith, we can discourage outlaws like Mede from operating within our borders with impunity. With the support of good citizens like yourself, the Elder Council and Emperor Thules can continue to lead us through this transitional phase in our glorious Empire. Respect the law, for Julianos and the Nine!

I'd love to see more fanworks fleshing out the Medes' origin in County Kvatch.

Added comments: I learned in the teslore discussion that there is an Oblivion mod: Knightly Orders for Cities that adds in Titus Mede as the head of the Order of the Wolf in Kvatch.

[alienducky]

2 and 19 for the book asks?

Thank you for the ask! List of questions is here, answer for 1+20

2 - top 5 books of all time? Aww man, only 5? Hmm. Howl's Moving Castle, First Test (Protector of the Small quartet), Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, Good Omens, and The Oblivion Society (by Marcus Alexander Hart. Not as big as the others I know, but a damn good read. Amazon link in case anyone wants to read the blurb)

19 - most disliked popular books? Lord of the Rings trilogy, hands down. I'll happily watch the movies, but I will never, NEVER read the books again. Granted I read them when I was maybe 13/14 because the movies were about to come out and my school Librarian got me the first as a gift, but I found them such a slog, and I kept skimming or skipping huge sections because they didn't grab my attention or do anything to make me care about the characters So sorry to anyone who likes them, because while I can appreciate the general story and characters and world building... they're just nah

[reaperstoll]

❝ This world is not open to strangers. ❞ She calls as she descends the steps.

Between him and the entrance to the grand hall stands a master resolute in keeping suspicious ilk out -- it was what her master before her bade her to do, to protect this neutral dominion, but little did she know this visitor had taken up business here once before... or at least the warped version she had once made of it.

Regardless, he would not be so readily received this time. Especially not after the affairs he'd persist to take up, and the unsavory crowds he ran with. Yes, she remembered this one. She would stare stern when she reaches the footing of the courtyard.

❝ So state your business. ❞

ASK OBTAINED!

How strange it was to return to this place after all this time. He, who had so prided himself on being the Lord of Castle Oblivion, returning now to see that what he had so haughtily laid claim to was nothing more than illusion. He did not truly know this place, but he did know who was here.

And Lauriam understood that he may not be welcome. But that was hardly going to stop him.

“So, you’re the one they call Master Aqua.” His voice is as light as his skin, airy, but with an underlying determination that’s reflected in his eyes. He’d never seen this guardian outside of the brief moment they’d all locked eyes before battle.

“I am here on personal matters. I have no quarrel with you and yours. I was told that Ven lives here.” Lauriam says his name with such familiarity.

[lou-struck]

Dream Eaters Part 3

Obey Me! Datables (minus Luke x MC!)

Featuring: Simeon, Solomon, Diavolo, and Barbatos

Parts 1 & 2 Here

~ How they react to a lower-level Demon giving Mc nightmares intentionally.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, torture, and nightmares. Nothing too visually graphic.

Simeon~

Simeon thinks of himself as your guardian angel, he loves you with his whole heart and wants to protect you from anything in the three realms that could cause you harm.

He isn’t well adapted to using his DDD so he didn’t see the messages you sent him in the middle of the night telling him that you were walking over to Purgatory Hall.

He was pulled from sleep by the tentative sound of knocking on his bedroom door, but when he sees the tears in your eyes he rushes to embrace you gently petting your hair and leading you to sit on his bed to talk.

When you tell him of the terrible nightmares that you have been having the past week he knows that there is some sort of dark magic that is draining your energy through your dreams.

“Mc, may I please kiss you?” he asks as your tired eyes blink in shock. Once the realization of what he says hits him he gets a little blush on his cheeks. “A kiss from an Angel can ward away all your bad dreams he says giving your hand a soothing little squeeze. You nod and allow him guide you down underneath his still warm silk sheets.

His eyes burn with a magical intensity as he places the softest little kiss on your forehead letting his power put you into a sleep that is free from nightmares. Now that you are safe and on your way to recovery, he leaves Purgatory Hall and out into the streets of the Devildom to carry out his duties as your guardian angel.

A lesser demon curses from an alleyway as he feels the mark he placed on you earlier snap under the pressure of celestial power.

Simeon steps out from the shadows, his blinding white wings out in a display of powerful elegance.

“That human is under my protection,” he says to the cowering Lesser demon. “I will not hesitate to send you off into oblivion.”

Barbatos~

Barbatos has noticed that something has been off about you ever since you came to the castle for your weekly tea date. You were on edge flinching at every little sound as if something was out to get you.

Not wishing to pry he tries his best to make you feel comfortable in his presence, selecting a soothing tea blend, placing an extra log in the fireplace, and playing one of his favorite records he borrowed from Lucifer.

It works a bit too well as your eyelids droop and you fall asleep in one of the plush armchairs before he has a chance to serve you a cup of tea.

Not wanting to wake you he gently lifts you in his arms and moves you to lay down on the sofa admiring how peaceful you look while you sleep. But then something shifts in your demeanor. Your brows furrow as you begin to toss and turn on the couch.

Rushing to your side he prevents you from twisting onto the floor as tears begin to stream down your still sleeping face. Upon making contact with your skin he feels the dark energy of a Lesser demon draining you of your vitality.

The only way for him to get these nightmares to stop would be to confront the demon responsible.

With a flick of his wrist time in the Devildom stops as he begins to hunt down his prey and make them pay for hurting you.

As he approaches the still frozen lesser demon he can't tell whether they are bold or completely idiotic trying to harm Lord Diavolo’s human exchange student.

Upon contact, the Demon is able to move amongst the time-frozen landscape and look up at Barbatos in fear. It opens its mouth to speak only to be interrupted by the Butler.

“I have all the time in the world to make you pay for the pain you have inflicted upon my human. But I wonder if it will be enough to satisfy me.” He coo’s wrapping his tail around the creature's neck. He tosses them into the dungeons before returning to tend to you in any way you need.

Diavolo~ 

The first time Diavolo found you asleep on the couch he thought it was so adorable he made sure to bring in a few blankets in case you wind up there again. Since then it has been a normal occurrence for you to get a bit of shut eye in his office so he doesn't have to end his day alone with nothing but paperwork.

But as he fills out paper after paper directing a soft gaze towards you whenever he can as a reward for his progress he notices that there is something off about your sleeping expression, your brow is furrowed and even in sleep your lip is trembling in fear as you let out a series of scared mumbles and whimpers.

Springing from his seat he rushes to your aid shaking you awake with a large hand. 

“Mc, you were having a bad dream.” he says soothingly as you cling to his arm. You blink and look up at him and he can practically feel the exhaustion radiating off of you along with something else, something familiar.

“What did you dream about?” he asks trying to confirm his suspicions.

When you reply that you dont remember he realizes that this is the work of a Lesser Demon, not just any demon one in his own employment. The thought that someone on his payroll causing harm to HIS human makes his blood boil. 

It takes a snap of his fingers to summon the creature before him and only a glare to force it to it’s knees. “Not only do you threaten peace between all three Realm’s, you dare to feed from MY human.” he growls. 

It can only blubber excuses and pitiful temptations before he is dragged away to the dungeons to suffer the consequences of treason.

Any slight to the Prince is worthy of such punishment.

Solomon~ 

The Sorcerer has lived multiple lifetimes, he remembers the feeling of being hunted by dream eaters very well. 

The moment he sees you slumped over on one of the stone benches of RAD trying to fight the exhaustion that clings to you with fear in your eyes he knows exactly what’s happening. Gently he sits down next to you and he takes your hand giving it a squeeze looking at your trembling frame. 

Leaning in close to your ear he gently whispers to you “I will stop at nothing to give you back your dreams.”

You nod but are too tired to even respond to him properly, but you allow him to help you to your feet and through a portal to his laboratory where he can begin to examine you. Not having the same sense of smell that the others have, Solomon has to rely on his intuition, and magical abilities to figure out who is tormenting you.

It took a few different trace spells for him to pick up a trail, but one finally took just as you were beginning to lose your battle with your need to rest.

It’s a race against the clock as Solomon follows the trail of violet mist through the corridors. He has to find the Demon responsible for your pain before the dreams drain you of more energy. Finally, the trail fades revealing a Lesser demon lounging behind a shrub in the gardens no doubt sensing the oncoming taste of your fear. 

The Demon is incapacitated before it is even aware of Solomon's presence as it is lifted into the air and squeezed until it cannot breathe. Black cape swishing behind him Solomon chuckles roughly grabbing the chin of the now-panicking Demon. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve been able to experiment on a Demon of your abilities,” he coos “Maybe you should be a bit smarter when it comes to feeding off of humans.”

[merakiui]

Ok so omegaverse au right? Omegas are controlled by the government as a precious commodity. Darling is an omega that was controlled by the state as soon as he presented as an omega,taken by his family and groomed to be a perfect little omega for there next chosen alpha. And I just 👉👈 rly think that would go nicely with yandere malleus ok. There’s not nearly enough asks about him!!!!

What if it’s something like a government-sanctioned auction that allows wealthy alphas and betas to bid on well-kept omegas? So long as the bidder swears to provide the omega with safety, stability, and a comfortable home environment, everything that happens at these auctions is fair game. However, no one’s going to dare bid against the Draconia heir once they realize his bodyguards have been sent to buy an omega for his sake. And soon you’re in the clutches of Silver and Sebek, the former who assures you everything will be fine and the latter chastising your anxiety. “You ought to be honored to be my lord’s omega!” he exclaims, but it’s impossible to feel honored when you’ve never even met this figure before.

You’ll sit across from both men in a horse-drawn carriage, listening to hooves clip-clopping against slick cobblestones. Rain batters the carriage windows, falling in torrents from a sky darkened with gloom. You watch the city fall away into oblivion, and soon dense forests take over your vision, sharp, protruding brambles and thorns tangled amidst the trees.

Once you arrive at a grand, gothic castle, you meet a petite man who introduces himself as Lilia, and though you’re certain there’s something off about him he’s kind enough—full of life and enthusiasm as he looks you over with bright, wine-colored eyes. He has you bathe almost immediately and your rags are switched for those of fine silks. You feel like a completely new person when you spy your reflection in the mirror. Lilia insists on preparing a feast to commemorate your arrival, but he’s quickly persuaded otherwise by Silver and Sebek. Instead, Lilia takes you through the castle, pointing out unique structures, panels of expensive stained glass, certain rooms that hold fond memories, and much more. He keeps your attention pulled taut with each story, and when lightning flashes in a crackling arc in the sky you flinch. He chuckles at your fright and muses aloud about how the prince will simply adore you.

Come dinner, you’re escorted to an expansive dining room with a vaulted ceiling and arched windows, each curtain drawn back to let in the moonlight. All sorts of dishes have been set along the length of the table, and it looks like it should fit more than two people. Someone’s already waiting at the head of the table. He’s taller than you imagined, with sleek horns and piercing green eyes, and he looks through you with an unreadable expression. Lilia gushes over how he’s already taken a shine to you, but there’s no indication in his expression that suggests he likes what he’s seeing. Lilia and the others leave the two of you alone before you can even think to raise any questions.

You force an awkward smile, lower into a stiff bow, and ask if it’s all right to sit closer to him. The fae prince, whose eyes glint strangely at that query, hazards a small, measured smile. With a flick of his wrist, your chair moves on its own until it’s situated directly near him, and you follow on your own two feet.

You don’t have much knowledge of fae customs, so you’re not sure what you’re meant to do or if you’re meant to indulge in any of these luxuries. You almost give the man your name, but he holds his hand up to silence you. Instead, he chooses a name for you. “Little omega,” he calls you. It’s spoken so softly, a cherished set of words filled with tenderness. You suspect you’ll be hearing that alias plenty of times in the near future.

When you look so sweet and defenseless, it’s nearly impossible for Malleus to resist wanting to make you his forever. And with your lack of knowledge on the fae, he doesn’t have to try very hard to trap you. Not that there’s any need for that at this moment. After all, you belonged to him the minute Silver and Sebek decided you would be the one for their prince.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

So...Misery style, how would you make Tomione work? (Or how would you do a Tomione story?)

Thanks, Anon, this might be harder than the Dramione one.

Well, again, to please my deranged captor, I'd likely follow the plot of your standard Tomione fic and hope it passes muster. "Oh yeah, Hermione's back in time and she's doing back and forth mind games with Tom and it's really intellectual." With any luck, my feet aren't smashed into oblivion.

But I think you're trying to get at what I would really do if I really had to write Tom/Hermione and I had to make it something I would read. At least, that seems to be the spirit of this ask.

So, we're going the thriller route people. A lot like Misery, actually.

Instead of Ginny, twelve-year-old Hermione picks up the diary. Like Ginny, Hermione quickly becomes besotted with Tom Riddle trapped inside. However, unlike Ginny, Hermione goes straight to the library and starts asking pesky questions.

Hermione's never heard of memories stored in objects before, the theory behind portraits and pensieves are completely different, what spells did Tom use and where did he find them? Did Tom Riddle invent an entirely new branch of magic at the age of 16 without anyone noticing? What was Tom's special service to the school?

Tom starts sweating when it becomes clear that Hermione's stumbling a bit too close to the truth (that this is not ordinary magic and highly dangerous shit) and that she's clearly going to start asking around about Tom Riddle (to Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Hagrid, who were all near Hogwarts at the same time Tom was going to school).

Tom confesses that he may have created the diary using something very... illegal. Hermione is appalled and asks if it was gasp dark magic! He admits it is but points out it's a bit late now, like it or not, he's stuck in the diary and running to Dumbledore isn't going to make that go away any time soon. And it wasn't like Tom asked to be shoved in a diary either.

Hermione's very conflicted, on the one hand, Tom's the first real intellectual friend she's ever had. Harry and Ron are nice, but they're morons and they thinks he's a nerd. Tom encourages her intellectual pursuits and confirms her concern over various what not and what have you happening in Hogwarts.

Eventually, Hermione decides that Tom in the diary can't help being a diary (though the other Tom, the real Tom, she'd have words with), and decides that she'll try to help him get a body.

Great, that's great, Tom says.

But it keeps getting worse.

Tom tries to possess Hermione, but unlike Ginny, Hermione knows that Tom is a dangerous, dark, artifact. If she's suffering negative health effects, losing her memory and ending up in the girl's lavatory, she's going to research this and decide that either a) she's suffering ill effects of using dark magic b) she just got possessed by Tom.

Either way, she tells him she can't use the diary anymore, it's affecting her health and she must research. Well, Hermione researching does Tom no fucking good, but he can't stop her.

The Chamber of Secrets, as a result, is never opened.

Instead, Hermione continues researching, and Harry and Ron... begin to get on her nerves. It's not like last year, there's no Flamel to research, no over-arching mystery, and they seem to be growing tired of her. In turn, Hermione's getting a little tired of quidditch, getting detention, etc.

She's a little tired of Hogwarts, if she's being honest with herself.

Hermione's now had a taste of having a friend who isn't there to simply use her brains. And it's very addicting. She decides not to tell Ron and Harry about Tom, they'd just get needlessly concerned (the irony of this isn't lost on her but what can you do)

In the end, she opens back up the diary, and point blank asks what Tom needs to get a body. Before Tom can tell her, Hermione lists out her own theories. Life cannot be created from nothing, golems and puppets cannot last in the long term, to get a real body... human sacrifice is on the table, isn't it?

Well shit, Tom thinks to himself. He tries to assure Hermione it isn't but ends up confessing that, well, yes, it kind of is.

They have another huge row about it, Hermione slams the diary shut, but the wheels in her brain are spinning.

Does anyone deserve to die?

Hermione, at first, adamantly tells herself the answer is no. No one deserves to be sacrificed. Tom's fate is cruel, but the original Tom made his bed and should lie in it. It's unfortunate, but that's just life. Not the diary's fault, of course, but nothing that can be helped.

But then she keeps thinking about it.

Malfoy struts through the school like a peacock, sneering every time he sees her, laughing every time Snape deducts points from her in Potions for being a 'smarmy know-it-all'. Every time he can get away with it he's shoving her in hallways, calling her a mudblood, and assuring her that she's worth less than the dirt beneath her feet.

She watches as Malfoy torments and bullies Harry, she looks at Draco's father, and she asks herself if the world would really be so much worse off if Draco Malfoy were to disappear?

Draco Malfoy's being groomed to use dark magic, he practically brags about it at every opportunity, why is his life worth more than Tom Riddle's, someone who has paid the price for dark magic?

Isn't Hermione, in a roundabout way, only giving Draco what he deserves? The fate he'd meet at some point in the not so distant future?

Draco does something phenomenally cruel and stupid to the trio, likely to Harry, and that settles it. Hermione's going to murder that motherfucker and get Tom Riddle a body.

Hermione tells Tom the plan, she's passing off the diary to Draco, she has her full blessing, her permission, and whatever help he requires from her to eat Draco Malfoy alive.

Tom is unwillingly impressed, he was a vicious gremlin as a twelve-year-old, but even he wasn't committing murder in cold blood.

Tom's not sure how he feels about murdering a Malfoy, that's bound to get noticed, but Hermione's unyielding. Draco Malfoy, or Hermione goes to Dumbledore.

So, Draco Malfoy it is.

The rest of the year is spent with Tom Riddle murdering Draco Malfoy and coming up with some excuse for his disappearance. The chamber isn't opened as Hermione reminds Tom that this would make it entirely too obvious who is behind this. Instead, Tom likely has Draco partake in increasingly erratic schemes to humiliate Harry Potter that end up endangering himself.

Near the end of school, Draco disappears into the Forbidden Forest to find acromantulas to put in Potter's bed and... never comes back.

A huge search is put on, Draco Malfoy is never found, and the acromantula infestation in the forest is now actively battled by ministry employees. Dumbledore is sacked as headmaster, Hagrid fired for having been responsible for the acromantulas in the first place, and Hogwarts is closed the following year.

Hermione is... conflicted about all of this. She certainly didn't mean to fire Hagrid (had no idea he was even remotely involved with the acromantulas) and certainly not Dumbledore. It wasn't Dumbledore's fault at all.

Tom, who is now a free man but has no idea what to do with himself, meets up with Hermione and points out that Dumbledore should have been sacked ages ago: he let kids get away with this stupidly dangerous shit and the year before actively endangered his students and lured a dark wizard into the castle. As for Hagrid, he raised a dragon illegally on school grounds, did release his pet acromantula into the wild, and more. They were terrible at their jobs.

Hermione, ever so reluctantly, agrees.

It's too bad though, Hagrid was very nice and Dumbledore's a great wizard (don't even get Tom started).

As for Tom, well, he had such dreams. Of course he planned to either meet up with his glorious self or (upon learning that Voldemort was blown up by a toddler) take the mantle of Voldemort for himself. But now that he's out, he has no idea where to start. Murder Harry Potter, certainly, but after that?

Tom only has the vaguest idea of who the original Death Eaters were, and they seem to have effectively scattered. More, how does he go about this? Sure, Tom had ideas when he was in school, but they were just ideas. He's never led a revolution before, has no idea how to impersonate an older, more knowledgeable, version of himself. He barely understands the political climate in this new, post-Voldemort, Britain.

Tom keeps hanging around Hermione because, well, inertia. He has no idea what else to do. (Hermione, while still torn over the consequences of her actions as well as the distant thought that she enabled murder, is quite delighted to have him around).

Tom tries to wheedle Harry's address out of Hermione and gets a lot more information than he bargained for. Harry lives with abusive muggle relatives, Dumbledore is apparently keeping him there, all of this sounds bizarre. Tom is officially weirded out.

Still wants to murder Harry, of course, but also wants to dig into this a little further...

And before this becomes a full on fic outline, eventually this will lead to the murder of Dumbledore, probably the murder of Ron when Ron inadvertently discovers 'the truth', Hermione telling Tom they're now an item, Tom trying to escape the relationship, only to learn there's no escaping Hermione.

Hermione becomes the next dark lord. Tom has no idea how this even happened.

[thelastofthebookworms]

Hi, fellow nerds,

I'm looking for SFF comics/bd/similar stuff. I'm fine with horror recs too. I favor printed form

I'd like to read a series as captivating as Sandman (that I've finished) or Saga (waiting for the next update).

I've already started Abbott, American Vampire, Birthright, Black Magick, The Books of Magic, Briar, Crossover, Dead Boy Detectives, Ether, Fables, Fairlady, Fatale, Inferno Girl Red, Injection, Isola, Jupiter's Legacy, Klaus, Ladycastle, Lady Killer, Lanfeust de Troy, The Last Witch, Lazarus, Lazarus : Risen, Monstress, Oberon, Oblivion Song, The Once and Future Queen, Phonogram, Promothea, Reckless, Rose, Seven to Eternity, Scarenthood, Shadow Roads, Something Is Killing the Children, Spell on Wheels, We Live, We Only Find Them When They're Dead and Zombillenium

I'm not continuing 100 bullets, Decorum, Dept H., East of West, Fear Agent, Lady Mecanika, Moonshine, Rising Stars, The Sword and Trees because of personal preferences

I really enjoyed Alienated, Another Castle, Black Cloak, The Boogeyman, The Closet, Crosswind, The Crow : Lethe, The Cull, Daytripper, Deadly Class, Die, The Escapists, God Country, The Gravediggers Union, The Highest House, Invisible Kingdom, Klik Klik Boom !, Knights Temporal, The Last Mermaid, Locke & Key, Low Road West, Mercy, The Neighbors, Once and Future, The Plot Holes, Proctor Valley Road, The Psi Lords, Rachel Rising, Rockstars, Roku, Scott Pilgrim, Skyward, Specter Inspectors, The Spire, Unholy Grail, Velvet, Watchmen, The Wicked + the Divine, wytches and Y : The Last Man (I've finished them).

So if I had to recommend authors, BKV, the brothers Moon and Bá, and Gillen are probably the highest on my list

However I have a library card and am always eager to start a new series so I thought I could ask for help here. Would any of you have some recs ?

I keep updating this post with recent reads.

Please feel free to answer this post no matter how much time has passed, recs are always needed and appreciated !

[inukag-archive]

Hello! I’m looking for recommendations for a particular trope/genre: Feudal Era AU as @superpixie42 would say. Fics that are Canon-era (Inuyasha-world without Inuyasha plot) but are not quite canon-divergent or fix-it? I’m thinking along the lines of Out of The Woods (Miss_Dyana), Kintsugi, If We Fall Anyway (both Evilillusions), for example. Any other genre/rating is good. Thank you! 💓

Hey @anisaanisa, it's no secret this is one of Mod Pixie's favorite AUs, so thank you for the chance to put this one together!

Shelter by @lavendertwilight89 (E)

Summary: Song fic inspired Stuck with You and Shelter. Inuyasha has been alone most of his life and one moonless night he gets caught up with a young priestess. She saves him and he, in return, helps her. What he doesn't realize is, this priestess holds a lot of secrets which may or may not cost both of them their lives... 

--

Demon Nature by @shardetector (E)

Summary: He spoke low and gently, although his voice was gruff with his demon still so close to the surface, “You saved me wench, now I’ll repay the favor.” With that, his muscles bunched in his legs as he sprung up and out of the well, a red blur in the night as he made his way through the forest to his destination. His precious cargo held safely to his chest, as he raced to save her with his demonic speed. 

--

there's no place (for us/like home) by guardianKarenterrier (G)

Summary: Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Inuyasha starts to creep closer to the fire at night. Now that he's not so injured, he's begun to vanish into the woods and come back to throw down rabbits and once a badger at the side of the hut, and Kagome hasn't had to worry about finding enough to eat as the air starts to turn colder. He hardly ever talks to them, or at all, and he won't come close enough to touch- he never comes as close as he had that first day again, but he stays. She's not sure why he stays, but she's glad that he does. 

--

Comfort Food by @splendentgoddess (E)

Summary: Feudal AU one-shot. An ex-miko-in-training stumbles upon a seemingly human man alone in the woods during the moonless night. He seems all alone in the world - just like her. Goodness, when was the last time he had a decent meal? 

--

Half-Breed’s Wife by @gypsin (M)

Summary: On the night of the new moon, a runaway girl stumbles into Inuyasha's life. Little did he realize then what he would be undertaking by saving her. But when Kagome has nowhere else to go will he leave her to her fate Or will he rise to the occasion? And what will the humans think? 

--

Your Lying Smile by @dawnrider (M)

Summary: A beautiful day by the river quickly takes a turn, taking control of her life completely out of Kagome's hands. Her "rescuer" becomes something else entirely before she can get a word in edgewise. A Feudal-esue AU 

--

We Are Family by @theladyofthewest (T)

Summary: Imagine a world in which the Inu No Taisho lived to raise his sons together, as brothers. Inuyasha never had to learn to survive on his own, he never met Kikyo, never heard of the Shikon Jewel. Now imagine if Kagome fell into this world instead of the one she did in canon. Imagine if she and Inuyasha had ... parental supervision. 

--

Oblivion @meggz0rz (M)

Summary: Feudal-era Japan. A war to the death between youkai and humankind. Kagome, rebellious daughter of a noble family, is not about to let her grandfather sacrifice himself in battle. So she takes his place, dressed as a boy and ready to fight to survive. But in love and war, things are rarely as they seem, and there is a spy in the army ranks who just might be Kagome's downfall... 

--

Everybody Wants To Be An Inuyoukai by @superpixie42 (T)

Summary: A birthday one-shot for kstewdeux very vaguely based on the plot of the Aristocats. When Kagome, newly widowed with a newborn son, is named the heir of her mother-in-law's enormous estate things suddenly go from bad to worse. She's drugged, kidnaped, and left for dead on the side of the road. With the help of some unexpected new friends, Kagome finds herself questioning: does she even want to make it back home? 

--

The Shogun’s Daughter by @shnuggletea (E)

Summary: Kagome's father passed away when she was just a child but his Shogun status still makes her a valuable bride to a Lord of lands that border their village. Lord Inuyasha Tashio is pushed by the council into marriage, assured his new bride was an excellent choice. All their fears and anxiety are amplified when they meet. 

--

Timeless and Forbidden Love by lunalibro (M)

Summary: Once, a long long time ago in Japan, demons and other horrid monsters out of nightmares roamed the lands. Wars were never-ending, famine, death and bloodshed abound. Admist this chaos, there lived a great priestess named Midoriko who was renowned throughout for not only her incredible power and fighting prowess, but also for ethereal beauty. She defeated countless demons and staved off many dark evils as the protector of humankind. Eventually, Midoriko fell in love and birthed twin daughters. The eldest was named Kikyo and the youngest was named Kagome, While alike in looks, the sisters were complete opposites. Naturally, these girls inherited their mother’s immense powers. From a young age, Midoriko trained them in combat and in the spiritual arts. The sisters grew in strength and looks. However, Kikyo’s powers had matured far greater than that of her sister’s. Midoriko decided Kikyo shall be the one to take her place as the new protector of Musashi. From then on, Kagome would find herself living in her sister’s shadow. Maybe with the help of a young half-demon named InuYasha, Kagome could realize her worth and possibly fall in love in the process. A forbidden love that will last throughout time. 

--

Beauty and the Hanyou by mishelledor23 (M)

Summary: Inspired by Beauty and the Beast, but Inuyasha style! The terrible half-demon prince Inuyasha is under a fifty-year old curse that keeps him trapped inside his castle. Can Kagome, the reluctant miko-in-training become his friend? Maybe even his love? InuXKag, MirXSan. Lemons and language in later chapters! 

--

For Better or Worse by Anime Wildfire

Summary: Kagome, priestess in training, turns her life upside down when she saves the life of the half demon Inuyasha… and accidentally finds herself bound to him via pesky subjugation beads. This is not how she thought her day- or her life- was going to go.

--

By the Match, Not the Flame by @goshinote (M)

Summary:  Inuyasha is a hellbent hanyo on a mission for revenge. Kagome is a wanted miko on the run. Their intentions align in more ways than one, but secrets abound between them as they partner up during their travels. With an inevitable and impending betrayal looming over them, the pressure rises with every day they spend moving closer to the enemy’s clutches.

--

A Private Affair by JeremyMarsh (T)

Summary:  During a simple patrol operation, Inuyasha, a general in a war between demons and humans that has been going on for two years now, goes all the way across enemy territory to reach the village where his betrothed lived before the conflict broke out. Here he is discovered by her younger sister who intentionally reveals something to him that she shouldn't have.

Shocked, Inuyasha decides to embark on a new and dangerous mission that could cost him his life or worse.

--

Koi no Yokan by @keichanz (E)

Summary: Koi no Yokan: The feeling when you meet someone that you’re bound to fall in love.

A prince discovering a deeper meaning to seemingly random hordes of bloodthirsty demons. A young woman unwillingly sold to a brothel by uncaring relatives, frightened and alone. How could these two circumstances possibly be related?

We are also including the works Anisa mentioned in the ask for those who are unfamiliar

Out of the Woods by @dyaz-stories

Summary: After the murder of Kikyo, the local priestess, the villagers start leaving offerings to the forest's god, who they think they've angered. Kagome, called to the village to replace her cousin, finds out, too late, just how far they're willing to go when they use her as the month's sacrifice. She decides not to go down without a fight — except that, instead of an angry god, she finds herself faced with a hungry half-demon, who's very annoyed he won't be getting a food offering for the month. “What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s my food?” “Oh I’m sorry, am I not a sacrifice satisfying enough?” 

--

Kinstugi by @soliska

Summary: AU. Failing to be chosen as her village's miko, Kagome had resigned herself to a humble life. An unexpected summons returns her to the city where she's forced to reconcile the taught virtues and the spiralling, warped reality created by those that abuse their power. She holds the key to repairing the fracture between humans and youkai, and the freedom of her new hanyou friend.

--

If We Fall Anyway by @soliska

Summary: What if the shikon jewel didn’t exist and Naraku never came to be? What if Kagome fell down the well anyway and met a gruff, young inu-hanyou. Would they still become friends? What would be their story? A tale told in snippets. 

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

so get this. I was gonna roll around in Tombstone related fluff today - but no, no - this post came across my dash so Now We Are Gonna Discuss the Carnal Consumption of Meat as it appears on That Show Supernatural.  YEAH BUDDIES!

(also my sincere apologies to OP of the inspiration post who innocently tagged it with “lunch date!”  because I am about to go Elsewhere, cursedly).

Let’s all go meat man, after the cut!

This analysis centers primarily on 5x14 Bloody Valentine.  The title of course is a semi-homage to a 3D Slasher Film Jensen starred in circa 2009. 

Which I will be renting soon I guess.  ,[<- parasocial panda GET BACK IN YOUR ENCLOSURE]

Also Its Really Fun that the trailer for Said Cinema ends with “nothing says date movie like a 3-D ride to hell” [are you also thinking of Cas pulling Dean out of hell, or are you normal?]  ***unironically the teaser for 5x14 is -

EXT. SIDEWALK - IN FRONT OF ALICE'S APARTMENT BUILDING

RUSSEL 

First date.

They then eat each other.  Literally they eat each others flesh.  They also do it while dirty talking about it.  SPN IS A SHOW 

ALICE Ugh! I've been so alone. So empty...

RUSSEL I know. Me too.

ALICE I want you, Russel---All of you... inside me...

[they both take bites out of each other, Alice chewing on a piece of Russel's flesh]

****Remember this detail, as it is important.

ANYWAY, it’s truly Cursed that not only are we doing an homage to this 3-D Jensen Horror Date Flick but also this episode is specifically centered on Valentine’s Day.  The day honoring romance and love Now Coopted by Hallmark, everyone, that is the day spn writers chose to introduce us to 

Sir Horseman of THE Biblical Apocalypse Famine. 

Canonically, we are aware that the show is drawing from the book of Revelations in its depiction of the Four Horsemen.  Here’s what it says about Famine -

"When He broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, "Come." I looked, and behold, a black horse; and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand.”

-Revelations 6:5

Famine holds scales (used to weigh out grain in times of food scarcity).  Spn’s depiction is represented as hunger, a bottomless pit of need.  It consumes souls (demon and human alike).  

Cas describes Famine a little more poetically:

CASTIEL 

"And then will come Famine riding on a black steed. He will ride into the land of plenty... "

"... and great will be the Horseman's hunger, for he is hunger. "

"His hunger will seep out and poison the air. "

***Consider a prior season in which we are introduced to the Seven Deadly Sins.  Which are the sins associated with hunger?

Gluttony

and Lust.

***this is also important

Back to the episode.  Case cold open, and we find out that Alice was a Nice Girl.  In that she didnt drink, smoke or

have premarital sex.

***So Alice’s hunger for the sin of Lust caused her to succumb to it; and her demise was presented as Gluttony (literally eating her partner’s flesh). HMM

Famine’s presence is affecting the town, and Cas is not immune.

DEAN 

And when did you start eating?

CASTIEL 

Exactly. My hunger-- it's a clue, actually.

***They lay it out a little more in case you missed it ->

SAM 

I thought famine meant starvation, like as in, you know, food.

CASTIEL 

Yes. Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something--Sex, attention, drugs, love...

***this is so important.  but of course because its spn and our textual narrators are generally unreliable (even in a Ben Edlund episode, yes I know)

we get a red herring

CASTIEL 

Right. The cherub made them crave love, and then Famine came, and made them rabid for it.

***but that’s not accurate.  they didn’t get married or become obsessed with each other (remember the cursed coin in 4x08 Wishful Thinking and the unconditional love wish? not what happened here). they had premarital sex.  they did the thing Alice considers wrong, and dark, and sinful.  and then they ate each others’ flesh.

DEAN 

Okay, but what about you? I mean, since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?

CASTIEL 

It's my vessel-- Jimmy. His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine's effect

***mad lad Jimmy Novak’s hunger is for...red meat?  He is starving for red meat?  You are telling me that the Novaks, red blooded conservative religious midwestern Novaks, ate RED MEAT SO SPARINGLY that Jimmy Novak was LITERALLY starving for it?!?!  No way.  Absolutely no way.  This is a man who was such a religious zealot he STUCK HIS HAND IN BOILING WATER and accepted an angel of the lord into his own body but his secret hunger was for fucking ground beef?

give me a damn break.

to me this is an absolute coverup.  Because Cas’s burger consumption is not related one iota to his vessel Jimmy Novak.

it is a representation of Cas falling.  Cas’s cravings for meat represent his growing (and very much prohibited) feelings for...humanity (Dean Winchester), and they are presenting as Gluttony in the form of his downing more and more copious amounts of red meat.  

SERIOUSLY, consider this - at one point the depiction is so desperately carnal that he is eating raw ground beef with his bare hands. It is fucking uncomfortable.  and it is SUPPOSED to be.  Famine stirs up hunger for the prohibited.  For the sinful. That which we are starving for but do not believe we can ever have, so we lust and we lust and we LUST after it, but should we allow ourselves even just a taste of what we have been ravenously craving, we binge it until we ourselves disappear into the oblivion of our own sinful, dark desires.

Since You Want More Examples of why this cant possibly be hunger for Cheeseburgers and Cheeseburgers alone, Consider Famine’s effect on Dean.  Remember his doctor kink?

**when its revealed that Doctor Corman has succumbed to Famine’s poison by drinking himself to death, Dean - very uncharacteristically by the way - reacts by saying out loud

DEAN Thanks. Crap! I really kind of liked this guy.

***please note that Doctor Corman says the following to Dean in the prior scene they have together -

DR. CORMAN [to Dean]

Agent Marley, you just can't stay away.

****was that a flirtation?

***Also, Dean doesn’t want to go out and chase tail for Valentines Day.   

SAM

I mean, what do you always call it-- Uh, unattached drifter Christmas?

DEAN 

Oh, yeah. Well... be that as it may...I don't know. Guess I'm not feeling it this year.

SAM 

So you're not into bars full of lonely women?

DEAN 

Nah, I guess not. [takes a sip of his beer] Ahh. What?

SAM 

That's when a dog doesn't eat-- That's when you know something's really wrong.

***oh look we are relating things to eating again.  sex/lust to gluttony.  hmmm hmmm hmmm

ANYHOW -  *takes deep breath*

 this is also the Episode Where This Scene Lives

****JACKTING JOICES

oh and speaking of jacting joices, this is also the Dean Notices Cupids Crotch Episode.

frAckles, I am once again asking why you only permit celestial beings to hug you from behi-[gunshots]

but Dean isn’t hungry.  Why? Famine has the explanation, and we get it after Dean immediately runs inside after Cas heads in to complete his portion of their plan barely giving him any time to do so because he misses him that much.

FAMINE 

I disagree. [Famine moves closer to Dean and touches him] Yes. I see. That's one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex.

DEAN 

Oh, you're so full of crap.

FAMINE 

Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me! 

***not Dean making all of those homophobic/homoerotic jokes every time he’s in danger or feeing uncomfortable; not that, that can’t possibly be what Famine is referencing, right?

I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated. 

***not THIS parallel:

AMARA:

You're a mystery. I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel, except… It's cloaked in shame

You can't win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just... keep going through the motions. 

***not the motions of performative heterosexuality!!

***Dean’s not hungry because in his heart he truly believes that he can’t actually have what he hungers for.  That Thing Which This Episode Overtly but Also Very Clearly Made Obvious.  It’s an angel riding shotgun [I did Do That and I am Not Sorry], eating a burger in the front seat of the impala.  But, I’ve deviated from the meat of this essay [gunshots] [this time just for the bad joke].

BONUS

there’s Exists another episode in which a man ravenously consumes red meat; eventually succumbing to eating raw beef with his bare hands in the season prior to this one.  

Yes Supernatural the Show That Brought Us Not One But Two Scenes of Persons Carnally Consuming Red Meat With Their Bare Hands.  

This episode is a MOTW - the man in question is a rougaru - a monster that starts out as human but due to some specific genetic disorder (hmmm hmmm hmm crack in THE chassis hmmm hmmm) soon begins to be extremely hungry - “for everything, but eventually long pig.” AKA human flesh. 

Wanna know the kicker?  

Episode’s called Metamorphosis.

(GIF by jackttwist)

I’ll see myself out.

[DOUBLE BONUS for extra credit:

if you really wanna wild out, go watch the scene of Jack the rougaru looking at himself in the mirror in 4x04 - and then meander on over to 7x01 and check out God!stiel looking in the mirror as the leviathans writhe inside him over there. It’s worth the walk.]

***oh and @lilac-void​ im tagging you in this one because in exchange for your KIND creator content nomination I guess I will respond by cursing you with an Honorary tag in this, a Meat Meta.  you’re welcome slash I'm sorry XO [but seriously thank you again for your kindness and appreciation; it really motivated me to sit down and get moving on making more content <3]

[potter-imagines]

Library Confessions (George Weasley)

Summary:  george fluff?? maybe like some sort of best friends to lovers kinda deal?

Notes: I've been wanting to write George for a while so I was excited to make this !! hope you enjoy x

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff

Word Count: 5.3k

It was a flurry and cold winter day, the kind of day when every breath stings the lungs and every exhale chills the lips. The frigid air, the slippery ground and the sheet of white covering the once green grass. All signs winter was here and cold times were ahead. Even in the highlands of Scotland, the winters were ferosus and unforgiving. Seeing as it was your seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts, most would assume you’d have adapted to the cold by now, but that wasn’t the case. Although as much as you despised the freezing temperature, the pulsating tick of your headache preferred the cold over the thunderous noise back inside.

The Gryffindor common room was too rambunctious- wild, uncontrolled for your desires tonight. It was Friday and tomorrow was the highly anticipated day trip to Hogsmeade. Students were understandable thrilled and you would have loved to join in, but the throbbing pain and stress of school on your shoulders masked your fun. The migraines were brought on by school, but also the idea that you would not get to join your friends tomorrow.

Your feet carried you further from the common room, the rowdy noise fading with every step. If the weight of homework wasn’t so heavy on your shoulders, the party would’ve been in your plans. You tried to stay as long as you could but after about twenty minutes, and three Weasley fireworks being set off, you decided a breath of fresh air sounded delightful.

Your best friends, Fred and George Weasley, were the cause of this chaos. They were fully sober yet drunk off the energy of the room. When you had left, Fred and Lee were orchestrating a tournament of pumpkin juice pong, and George was sitting on the scarlet couch talking to Harry, Ron and Hermione. His eyes darted to you every few seconds. Sometimes he would hold the gaze, or send you a wink, but most of the times he snapped his head back to the golden trio, pretending his attention was elsewhere.

It made your heart thump against the bones of your chest. You were sure if he had been sitting beside you he’d surely hear it, loud and clear. A deep pink blush spread across your cheeks at the thought of George. You had been close friends with the twins since you stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express and sat in the same cabinet as them. Through the years, the bond grew stronger yet developed differently with each twin. Fred was like an annoying, overbearing, proactive big brother and George, well, the affection you felt for George was not in a brotherly way. 

Since your third year, you started noticing subtle things about him. Like how he arched his eyebrows when he spoke, or when he’d bite his lip when taking notes. He also had a tendency to eat his dessert first, if you got him laughing enough he’d accidentally let out a tiny snort and he always stood to your left when you walked to class together. When winter came, George was always shedding his clothes in order to keep you warm. Fred would complain that you knew it was snowing, therefore it’s your fault for being cold, but never George. Not to say that Fred is cruel, he can be a gentleman when he chooses but your relationship was more sibling bickering and competition. But George had always been a bit, sweeter than Fred.

Most wrote the twins off as one person but the differences between the twins was written out in neon signs, in your eyes. Maybe it was because you were closer to the twins than most, besides Lee. They were both your best friends, but they treated you in polar opposite ways. If Fred ever tried to cuddle you in his bed, you were sure you’d ‘Stupefy’ him into oblivion. When George did it, you could hardly croak a breath with all the rockets exploding in your heart.

The fragrance of frosted pine and butterscotch wafted through the nipping air as you approached the north entrance of the castle. Winter was finally here. The beauty of Hogwarts shined most bright during this time of the year. Snow crunched under the weight of your foot while you trudged through the courtyard taking advantage of the short cut. With the overwhelming school work piling by the second, slipping into the library didn’t seem like such a bad idea. You had two papers, a research project for Magical Creatures, and an exam in Potions. Not to mention you were expected to memorize and perfect a list of disarming and protection spells before Defense Against the Dark Arts by Tuesday.

Lost in your own stress, you hardly noticed your feet carrying you into the large doors of the library. The lighting was low and the attendance was even dimmer. A few Hufflepuffs and a handful of Ravenclaws were scattered around the room. Madam Pince nodded her head at your arrival then returned to her work behind the main desk.

Sliding into an empty table, you started to situate yourself. A stack of parchment was already waiting next to a clean quill and glass container of ink. It wasn’t hard to find the necessary textbooks and you returned back to your seat rather quickly.

A good twenty minutes had passed before your ears perked up at the sound of Madam Pince scolding a student. You didn’t have a clean view of her desk but you assumed a group had gotten too loud for her liking. Turning back to your book you faced away from the main entrance of the library. Eyes scanning the textbook, a new presence creeping up behind you went unnoticed. As you flipped to the next page in the advanced potions book, a grasp clamped down on either shoulder and a pair of lips hovered dangerously close to your ear. The unexpected warmth created a jolt on energy through your body. You practically flung out of your chair in surprise, whipping around to face your attacker. The initial glare and scowl soon washed away as your eyes met a familiar pair of warm, chocolate orbs.

George Weasley had a devilish grin, proudly basking in your shock. Not giving you a second to refuse his arrival, George pulled the wooden chair besides you out and sat in it. Throwing his arm across your shoulder, he smiled innocently at you.

“And what might you be doing in here on this eventful Friday evening, hm?”

Still reeling in shock, you placed your hand over your heart in hopes to calm down from the scare. Wildly glaring up at George, you yelled in a hush tone,

“George! You nearly gave me a heart attack- what’re you doing here?” You smacked his chest with a thud, though George remained unphased. His eyes squinted down at you while he shot back,

“Pretty sure I asked you first, love.” He said smugly. A large maroon and gold sweater adorned his frame, paired with dark washed jeans. You could smell the signature scent of pine and cinnamon that wafted wherever he followed. Folding your book on the table top, you glared playfully at the ginger.

“What else is there to do in a library besides studying?” The smart reply caused a twinkle in George’s eyes. You could practically see the gears turning as his witty side took control. His fingers tightened around the blades of your shoulder, dragging you a tad closer to him.

“Plenty of things-” An instant smack came as you knocked his side once more. George chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused by the flusterness taking over your features. Motioning towards the stack of parchment and mountain high pile of lengthy textbooks, you shook your head.

“I’ve got a lot of work due this coming week, so figured I’d get a head start.”

“Ah, you weren’t enjoying the party.” He declared knowingly. George typically never left your side during house parties. The anxiousness and suffocation of the noise that crept into your veins was always capped by the feeling of his arm around your shoulder protectively. Although tonight, George ran to the Golden Trio the moment the function began, leaving you alone in the corner with Dean and Seamus. You were friends with the boys but George was the only one who could make you feel relaxed and him being busy, escaping the party seemed like the best option.

Leaning into your chair, a heavy sigh fell from your parted lips at the recollection of tonight. “Not really I suppose. I don’t know… not in the partying mood tonight.” You admitted softly. George’s face furrowed immediately, concerned painting his features boldly. The dim lighting of the library all but hid the gleam of worry in his eyes.

“What’s got you stressed, darling?”

Scoffing at the question you picked up your book and started flipping through the pages again. For starters, you couldn’t decide where was the best place to start when it came to all your worries. There was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who returned last school year, the fact that the twins were planning on leaving early to open their shop (which they asked you to help run once you finished with school), home stress, school work, your feelings for George, trying to figure out your plans for after Hogwarts, and so much more. The weight of the world was crashing down on you and for the first time, you felt like allowing it to crumble you.

“You mean besides the school work I’m drowning in and the ever looming fear of being murdered by the Dark Lord himself? Eh, not much.” The sarcastic reply was all too familiar to George. Having spent the last seven years glued to your side, he started to pick up on your antics. Like your constant need to use sarcasm to hide your genuine fears. He studied you for a moment, searching for any hint on what really had you worked up.

Reaching his hand out, George plucked the potions book from your hands and started surveying it. He tilted the book upside down, pretending to read the text. Scrunching his brows, the fiery twin feigned comprehension of the material, a small ‘oohh’ and ‘hm’ falling from his lips as he did so. His silly antics caused you to giggle as he threw the book back to the table.

“Why’re you doing homework on a Friday night, anyhow? You’ve got all tomorrow morning and all day Sunday for that!”

“Technically have all day tomorrow as well-” George stopped you short as he cut into the conversation stubbornly.

“No, we’re all going to Hogsmeade and I already claimed your spot next to me at The Three Broomsticks!” He resembled a pouty child as he huffed besides you. Flipping the page of your textbook, your mouth bunched in the corner, guilt entering your bloodstream.

“I’m really sorry, Georgie. If my grades slip any further- my mum’ll have my head on a stick! Besides, I didn’t figure it would be that big of a deal, everyone else is going so I’m sure my absence will not be noticed.” Your laugh was meant to cover the tang of honest hurt, although you hoped it would slip past him. Of course, George noticed everything when it came to you and seeing you down was definitely not something he felt okay with ignoring.

“But I’ll notice- just like I did tonight.” He added with a point of the finger. It was true, George always seemed to notice when you were missing. He also always seemed to know where you were when you did sneak away.

“Thanks…” Trailing off, you glanced over to George. The honey like orbs were already examining your features. You assumed he must’ve picked up on the sadness dripping through your pores because the next thing you knew, George was offering up his entire Saturday.

“You want me to stay back with you?” Your head snapped in his direction immediately. With a bugged stare, you shook your head feverishly.

“What- no! You and Fred practically countdown the days until we get to go to Hogsmeade. I know how bad you wanna go, don’t skip out ‘cause of me.”

“We do have another trip next month so I can just wait to go until then. I’m sure Hogsmeade will still be flourishing by then. C’mon, you know you want me to stay back. You’ll bore yourself to death without me around!”

“You’d just be staying back because you feel bad-” George interrupted you, face reading bewilderment at your accusation.

“No, I’d be staying back because I want to. Y/n, when have I ever hung out with someone I don't want to be around- besides Percy seeing as I’m obligated to share a home with him. I want to spend time with you, that’s why I look forward to Hogsmeade trips. Get to spend time with you outside of the castle. So if you’re not there, I’m just gonna be miserable, love. Which means, I better just stay back with you.” A mischievous smirk rose to his lips as he finished his spiel, crossing his arms across his chest. The material of his sweater bunched around his fold and you admired Molly’s handiwork. Pressing your finger into his chest, you gave George a playful shove. He reached out for the table top to sturdy himself as he chuckled. Batting your lashes you teasingly cooed,

“Sounds like someone can’t get enough of me.” Not missing a beat, George rested his elbow on the tabletop. His chin was planted in his palm as he leered dreamily.

“Thought we already established that.” He winked over to you. Lifting up your heavy book, you sheltered your blushing cheeks behind the pages. Your forehead pressed deeply into the pages as you folded the covers around your heated face.

“You joke too much.” Mumbling into the book, you were taken aback when a hand abruptly snatched the book from your fingertips. You watched as the book went above your head, then settled in George’s hand. He snapped the cover shut between his hands, an echoing ‘snap’ invading the library. The peppermint lingering on his breath smacked against your lips. George ran his finger over the title page, then tossed it to the side. As the book slammed on the counter, he turned his head back to you.

“Never about my feelings towards you, though.” He stated seriously. Your brows pulled together in a stern line.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your furrowed gaze rested heavily upon him.

“I just… really like spending time with you. Like just the two of us.” As he finished speaking, you watched cautiously as George’s hand sneaked over to land on top of yours. His palm was warm on top of yours. After a few seconds, he flipped your hand over so it was set inside his. That comfort feeling bursted in your chest under the weight of his eyes. It was funny how the simplest of actions from him could cause a firework extravaganza in your chest. The tension in your throat was increasing.

“I do, too, Georgie. You’re very sweet.” You smiled awkwardly, the bashfulness overcoming every cell in your body. When Fred complimented you or was too kind, it made you suspicious. Usually he buttered you up before a prank, so you never fully trusted his words but George? George was too gentle to ever set you up or put you in harms way.

“Y/n… there was actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you- well something I was gonna ask you tomorrow but seeing as you’re not going, might as well as you now.” The mumble was a notch above audible. You watched on as he fumbled with his hands, twiddling his thumbs nervously. His anxiousness was contagious as you soon felt uneasy as well. Your mind raced in worry as you wondered what was clouding his mind. As if it was second nature, your hand moved out in reaction to his worrisome state to snake his hand into your own. Softening your piercing stare, you squeezed his hand tightly.

“What’s wrong, George?”

His attention was shifted to your locked hands. It wasn’t the first time you held his hand, although it was the first time you were knocked off balance by the wave of electricity streaming down your spine from the touch. Based on his reaction, you figured George felt it too.

“Uh, would you ever want to, like, go on a date? I um, I’ve really liked you for quite some time now and I keep trying to ask you but I get nervous cause… I just needed to tell you myself before Fred does it for me.”

“Tell me now if this is a prank, George Weasley.” The sternness in your voice was something George only heard on occasion. He knew not to joke when it came to your heart so he was taken aback by your words, though understood why. You saw the confusion stirring in his brain before he settled your worries.

“It’s not a prank, love, I swear on my life. I would never lie about my feelings, that I can promise.”

“Tomorrow?” You looked up, eyes peeking over to your side. George had hardly moved and stared blankly at you. It was if his brain had hit a wall and was lagging in processing. The candle on the table flickered, orange and red shadows flashing across his face. Even in the shadows the razor sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones popped.

“Huh?” He croaked.

Catching a Weasley twin off guard was not a common thing and George appeared baffled. Hands folded in your lap, you could feel the small shake to his grasp. In an odd way, you felt a surge of confidence knowing you had the power to make George blush. Tightening your hand around his own, you roamed the pad of your thumb across his knuckles.

“Could we go on a date tomorrow? After I finished at least two of my papers- could we go on a date then?” It was hard to shake the electric shock tingling through your bones. Never before had you basked in eyes as beautiful as his. His eyes reminded you of a pool of whiskey and shades of chestnut. When the light flashed, a honey, caramel tint soaked his orbs. Simply calling them ‘brown’ eyes did no justice.

Your voice brought a large smile to George’s lips like he won the lottery. The glistening gleam brighten the dim corner of the library. You could feel your breathing become inconsistent once again at the sight. Nodding his head, you watched with a smile as his sandy, ginger hair danced in tune.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Does uh, does that mean you like me too?”

Leaning back in your seat, you started to think back on all your years at Hogwarts. There wasn’t an exact moment you fell for him- it didn’t happen all at once. It was born as a crush, your heart leaping at the sight of the handsome boy your first year. When you started hanging out with the twins, you immediately grew close with them by the third week. Since then, you only got closer with the twins although it was undeniable that there was always a more intense gravitational pull you felt towards George. Not that Fred hadn’t pointed out the obvious connection between his twin and you numerous times. He enjoyed harassing George and yourself a bit too much.

Shrugging your shoulder in uncertainty, you admitted,

“Honestly it’s been so long I can’t remember when I first started liking you. I mean I’ve had a crush on you since first year and… I’ve always found you to be the funniest, most handsome guy I’ve ever met.” You paused your word vomit to take in George’s expression for a sign. Glancing up, you noticed he was far closer to you than he was before. The tip of his nose faintly brushing against your own. Your eyes enlarged in seconds at the lack of space between you two. “What’re you doing?”

A gulp echoed through George. His teeth dug into the skin of his bottom lip, tugging at the skin in an attempt to calm his nerves. You viewed in curiosity as his eyes darted from your lips, to your eyes, then to the floor, then back to your lips again. Your suspicions were confirmed as George locked his peer into your own. His face read seriousness as he asked you gravely,

“Are you going to slap me if I kiss you? I’ve seen you knock the daylights out of Fred for trying to. Mum says you need to take a girl out before you kiss ‘em for real so I wanna do it somewhat right. Y’know, be a gentleman and such.” 

Your cheeks flared red instantly, eyes planted to the floor. George had always been sweet but you never expected him to be this sweet. There was nothing more in the world that you desired than finally getting to kiss George Weasley, but it was an incredible kind of him to take your own feelings into thought before acting. You pressed your lips together tightly, exceeding all your effort into suppressing the bashful smile threatening to breakthrough. It took everything inside to contain your excitement and nerves at his proposal.

George broke your messy train of thought as the sensation of his hand against your skin registered. His slim fingers brushed a strand of hair back behind your ear, then wrapped around the side of your cheek. Like two magnets matching up, you melted into his touch. Finally drawing your gaze back up, you placed the palm of your hand against George’s chest, grasping a light fist of his sweater for stability. The height difference wasn’t immense, but enough that you needed some sort of control to keep on your feet.

“How proper of you, Mr. Weasley. Yes, I would really like that.”

Leaning into his hand, you met George’s gaze as you slowly moved towards each other. Meeting in the middle, you were nearly knocked off your feet by the force of his embrace. Your lips connected like a perfectly mapped constellation. His kiss was warm and fulfilling, yet constantly left you wanting more. It was undeniable he had practice before, his lips moved far too calm for this to be his first.

You practically melted in his arms, kissing him softly. Your lips danced for a moment until you steadied your hand on his cheek, holding his face. You needed that sense of control, wanted to feel the hold you had under George. Taking the first leap, you dragged your wet tongue along the smoothness of his bottom lip. A tiny, almost inaudible groan fell from his mouth. You deepended the embrace momentarily, then pulled away to press one lasting kiss to his puckered lips. George giggled in reaction, a cherry red blush painting his cheeks.

“You’re adorable.” George ‘booped’ the tip of your nose when he finished speaking. You laughed at his action then extending your finger, you placed a similar tap to his nose and teased him,

“Stop talking about yourself, George.” Although before you could fully retreat your hand, George’s own wrapped around your fingers. In one swift motion he lifted your hand to his face, then pressed his lips to the back of your hand. As he raised his head, his arm was quick to wrap around your shoulder, jerking your chair towards George as a result. His fingers clutched your upper arm loving. 

That smug smile was plastered across his face again, pleasantly pleased with the peach glow tinting your cheeks. Feeling the heat rising you dove to cover your cheeks in the sleeves of his sweater. George accepted your full embrace, arms moving to circle your body entirely. Suddenly a light bulb popped in his mind as he released his grip slightly to glance down at you.

“Maybe if I help you with some of your paper tonight, we’ll have more time for our date tomorrow!” The excitement in his voice was by far the sweetest sound you’d heard. You smiled back at him and nodded in agreement.

“Sure but I do the writing- I don’t trust you enough for that. Your handwriting resembles that of a child.” You laughed at your own jab while George gave you a deadpan look, clearly unable to form a comeback. He’d say so himself that his print was what the Muggles would call ‘chicken scratch’, a phrase you taught George. When George first learned to write with a quill and ink, he had a tendency to smear the ink a smudge as he scribbled away faster than the speed of light. Molly would scold George as the side of his hand would be stained a deep black shade and his paper was hardly legible.

“Rude but, understandable.” George commented. It was sweet of him, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he truly wanted to spend his Friday night stuck in the library. Raising your eyebrow to the boy, you gave him a questionable look.

“Wait, don’t you have a party you should be getting back to?” Arm still enclosed around your frame, George gave you a squeeze. A mischievous smirk now covered his lips as he confessed the truth. 

“What do you mean? I only threw that party with Fred so I could spend the night around you- maybe impress you with my wicked dance moves.”

Giving him a pointed look, your chest erupted with a fit of giggles. A memory popped into your mind of the first time you got the chance to view a drunk George Weasley putting on a ‘show’ for you. Sober George was a decent dancer but drunk George was on a different level of skill. The liquid courage had left George regretting a lot of nights and quite a bit of scenarios that came as a result. 

Although dancing drunk with you was never a regret of his. Especially when the two of you went to the Yule Ball together as ‘friends’. Mummers followed your every move as you waltzed with George, students gossiping about George and yourself. Not that you paid attention to anyone but George- there wasn’t a chance given to! You didn’t spend a single second resting on your feet as George had you dancing until the band was packing up. He spun, twisted, lifted, and twirling you all night long. When a slow song finally came on, the prankster king put his gentleman side on full display. It was by far one of the best nights of your life, one you still had yet to stop daydreaming over. Poking his side, you smirked teasingly at the boy.

“Georgie, darling, I’ve seen them before. You’d have a better chance sending yourself to the infirmary than impressing me with your ‘moves’. I haven’t forgotten the Yule Ball last year. My head was spinning for a month!” You laughed together at the reminiscence. George was just as mesmerized by the night as you, maybe a tad more so. For those few hours of pure bliss, George had never felt more complete. Seeing you all dressed up and glowing from head to toe- the image was captured in his mind forever. He never understood the term ‘speechless’ until he saw you walking down the stairs in search of him. He replayed that moment over and over again for a year now. Rubbing your shoulders lovingly, George leaned his head on top of yours.

“Aw, c’mon! You loved it! Twirling around like a beautiful ballerina in your dress. You looked breathtaking- everyone was staring at you. Can’t blame them, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you either.” His words made your insides feel fuzzy, kinda like the sleeve of his sweater. That of which your fingers were absentmindedly petting. George smiled down at the quirk, he loved every antic of yours.

Shaking your head, you pulled the book back that George had discarded. After all, you still had a stack of unwritten essays to get working on. You popped open the top of the ink container. George unraveled his arm from your shoulder to wrap lightly around your waist.

“Stop making me blush.” Crimson flooded your s/c cheeks, far too flustered to meet George’s eyes. That confidence from early had flown away just as sudden as it came. A sprout of warmth came as George’s finger pressed against the side of your jaw, turning your face. Sweetly, and silently, he requested your gaze to which you obliged.

“But you look so beautiful when you do, darling. Now stop distracting me- we have a paper to write, in case you’ve forgotten, love.” His lips darted forward and soon enough, his enticing lips kissed your reddening cheeks. George smirked teasingly, reaching the feathered quill out to brush against your nose. You lightly smacked it away, giggling at him as you did.

“You’re the one distracting me-” The squeal was silenced by George as he pretended to ignore your words as he continued to tease you. Pressing his finger against your lips, George purred,

“Hush, we’ve got work to do so I can take you out tomorrow, love.”

“Fine but don’t forget Georgie, I’m doing the writing.” Narrowing your playful glare, you spoke sternly. It was a sort of game you played- going back and forth with one another. Although finally that teasing crossed the line of flirting to something real. In a way, it almost felt fake. Like all those years of waiting hadn’t really paid off, you were just asleep in your dorm room, dreaming this all up.

The touch of George’s arm leaving your waist cold was enough to question; however the radiating sensation of his hand slipping into yours was confirmation it was real. The chaste kiss he left on the back on your hand still buzzed. Despite the lack of lighting, every handsome feature was distinct from his blazing locks to the scatter of freckles dotting his face. Giving you a sly wink George flirted,

“Ah, I love a woman who takes control.”

For the next hour and a half, far in the corner, behind rows of bookshelves and torches to light to way, George and yourself attempted to write your essay. The first hour consisted of stolen kisses, stolen looks, and George constantly stealing your book from your hands. He made it nearly impossible to the point you threatened to cancel your study date, which shaped him up immediately. 

The last half and hour George read to you different pages from your stack of books until you got a good jump on the paper. You were feeling hopeful until Madam Pince had announced the library would be closing for the night. In a matter of seconds, George’s hand was clamped around your wrist, attempting to drag you out. You managed to scoop your school supplies together and tuck them away in your bag before allowing him to escort you back to the common room. You just hoped your study date tomorrow would consist of some actual study. If not, it’s a good thing you have all of Sunday.

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 5

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so…, Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

Lucifer looked into my eyes muttering something in angelic before whispering, “I’m sorry…”

With tears burning his eyes he buried the sword deep into my heart.

“Thank you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 5 - Oblivion (1618 words)

“Y/N? Wake up Y/N”

Someone’s calling my name?

“Y/N, please wake up”

I awoke in a daze hearing a soft female voice calling out to me.

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

Slowly blinking awake, I realized that I was floating in some dark void. Upon looking around, I found the source of the voice. A young woman with long strawberry blonde hair and violet eyes was looking at me. Her white and purple dress was flowing freely around her. Her hair framed her face just right with a small leaf hair clip finishing her look. She spoke out again.

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

“Who are you?”

“Oh, thank goodness you can. Y/N, I am Lilith. Do you remember how you got here?”

I looked down at myself realizing that there is a gaping hole in my chest where my heart is supposed to be. Memories of the trial came flooding back to me.

“I-I was on trial. The king didn’t like the idea of me having pacts with all your brothers, so he ordered that I be killed. He, he tried to make Lucifer do it but he refused to kill me. I remember ordering your brothers not to interfere and to obey Lord Diavolo above the king, then I ordered Lucifer to kill me with his sword. He whispered something in angelic then killed me. I thanked him then nothing. It didn’t even hurt when he killed me, I just fell asleep.” Hugging myself as I remembered what happened, what I assume to be not 30 minutes ago. Lilith moved to wrap her arms around me.

“Shh, it’s alright now. When Big Brother killed you, he probably used his holy sword, that’s why you didn't feel anything, but if he did, you should have returned to Oblivion. Do you know what that is?”

Nodding my head, I recalled my Devildom history class. Oblivion was the start of the universe. All living beings were created from oblivion. Oblivion is the purple aura that surrounds someone when they perform a spell. It is the stuff used to manifest something via spell or curse. If harnessed right, it can also be used as an energy source.

“Big Brother probably muttered a protection spell which is why you are here instead of non-existent.”

“Where is here?” I asked while slowly releasing her from the hug.

“This place has no name, although I like to call it the void. In reality, that is all this place really is. It is where souls end up should they not have a final destination but don’t return to Oblivion. This only happens in special cases. It is the reason I have been able to watch over you and my elder brothers. This is where things get complicated. You were not meant to die yet and I didn’t have enough power to save you this time. You now have to make a choice, no matter what you pick, you cannot change the fact that you died, there is no cheating death a second time. I can make you a demon and send you to the Devildom, I can re-incarnate you into a new-born human although you will lose your memories, or I can send you to the Celestial Realm as a seraph. It’s your choice.”

“There is no way I would give up my memories of your brothers and the time I spent in the Devildom, and as much as I would love to return to the Devildom, there is no way I am going to serve that tyrant calling himself “King”. I also really don’t want to serve the other tyrant that has the audacity to call himself “Father”” Sighing I cradled my head in my hands weighing my two options. On one hand, I can return to the brothers and the one I love, but I will have to serve King Abandon and that’s if he doesn’t decide to kill me again as soon as he lays eyes on me. On the other hand, I could go to the Celestial Realm and hide out with Simeon and Luke, but I would have to bow down to their Father so as to not risk banishment from the Celestial realm, and that’s if he doesn’t cast me out on the spot, unless…

“I pick the Celestial Realm. As much as I dread serving Father, it’s my best option of seeing the brothers again.”

“Y/N, are you sure? I will be using up the last of my power, there is no going back after this.”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright.” Lilith took my hand and started chanting in angelic. A golden aura surrounded her as strings of light flowed out of her and into my chest and back, closing my wound and forming 6 pure white wings on my back. My clothing transformed into white and pastel blue garments. A small halo appeared over my head. I saw Lilith beam at me and say something although I couldn’t make out what she said as the darkness claimed me once more.

~In the Devildom~

(Lucifers POV)

Tears threatened to spill over as I carried out Y/N’s order. Why? Why did they make me do it?! They could have ordered me to pick them up and fly them away, I would have done it before the order even left their mouth. There is no way I could send them back into Oblivion. Without thinking, I drew the sword I swore I would never draw again. My Father had dubbed it “Starburst”, my holy sword. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it after the fall, and now I’m glad I didn’t. I heard gasps from the crowd as I summoned the sword, the only demons having seen it were my brothers as well as Lord Diavolo and Barbatos. I fought against Y/N’s order long enough to mutter a small prayer for their soul, hoping that wherever Lilith was, she would hear and understand that I needed her help. Unable to fight the order any longer, I took one last look into their eyes and thrust the sword straight through their heart, my brothers screaming in the background. Holding Y/N’s body a little longer than normal, I heard their last words, “thank you”, then nothing. Y/N was gone, and I was the one who killed them. I didn’t have time to think about it as I felt a searing pain on the back of my left hand, turning over to face my brothers, I saw them each clutching a part of their bodies as we all felt the pact we each held with Y/N shatter. I gently laid down Y/N’s body and got up moving off stage before my tears spilled over signalling my brothers to do the same. Not acknowledging the king, we all turned and left, Diavolo and Barbatos following close behind. Asmo’s crying was all we heard as we walked towards the House of Lamentation, none of us wanting to be anywhere near the king. Upon entering, we all went our separate ways. Levi immediately retreated towards his room, the twins went to theirs. Satan went to the library. Asmo and Mammon both went into the direction of Y/N’s old room while Diavolo, Barbatos and I headed to my secret study. Now alone, I let it all out, my pride worthless now.

“It’s not your fault-”

“Isn’t it Dia?! I was the one that killed them! I wasn’t strong enough to fight them and now they're gone!”

“I noticed you muttering something before, you know. What was it?”

“It was a prayer to Lilith. I know she’s watching over us. I can only hope that she heard it and will help Y/N. I didn’t send them into Oblivion as he ordered but to where she is. That was all I was able to do.” Tears now streamed down my face clear as day as I leaned back into my chair looking up at the ceiling at the thought of my only sister and Y/N who has grown to be someone I would even call my lover. Barbatos put his hand on my shoulder to try and ground me.

“What now?”

“I don’t know Barb, I really don’t. My Father has control of the Devildom and now with Y/N gone, it will be a lot harder to continue with any of our plans. On the plus side, thanks to Y/N’s order, my word outranks my Father’s when it comes to you 7.”

“But the pact is gone. There’s no way any of their orders are still in play, right?”

“No, it is still very much there. I can still feel the lingering effects of an order. If it weren’t, we would have attacked the king as soon as the pact broke but Y/N ordered us not to interfere with the trial.”

We sat in silence, none of us wanting to break it, until Diavolo’s DDD pinged with a text alerting him and Barbatos back to the castle.

As they were leaving Diavolo pulled me in for a tight hug.

“I’ll make this right. I promise.”

Letting go, both demons left for the palace as I went to my room. Shedding my clothes, I bypassed pyjamas and laid in bed. Tears ran down my face as I thought about Y/N and all the precious memories we had made together. I rolled over and realized they left their Little D No.1 plushie here from their last sleepover. Clutching it, their scent strong on the plushie, I drifted off to sleep, hugging the Little D in my arms wishing it was Y/N instead.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Rakshasa Girlfriend: Zarita 2

Part 1

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Female monster x female reader (OC)

The Lioness of Maetrine Part 2

“My little Queen,” Zarita’s voice was deadly soothing, brushing your hair out of your face with a free paw. “Oh, how much I have missed you.”

“Zarita.” Your voice was steadily cool, ignoring how your heart jumped a step ahead of you when you felt the blade press into your throat. “Would I need to question how you escaped?”

“Your guards are slow and old, I’m afraid. Whilst they were distracted by the onslaught of my group, they were too busy up top, not below in the cells, watching,” she gave a low chuckle, melodically raspy. “It was easy to slip past.”

“Yet despite these odds, you have not killed me yet,” you murmured. “Or have I mistaken this all?”

“My friends have raised their defences, the siege on your little capital has already begun.” She pulled you taut to her chest. “They have only asked of one thing.”

You snorted, “For my head?”

“No, though they may find that suitable to end this skirmish,” she chuckled. “They ask for you and only you, my little Queen, alive and unharmed.” There was a feeling of pulling you close to her chest, your back pressed up, keeping you from lashing if the threats got worse. “I will not let them get to you.”

You squirmed in her grip, wary of how the sword pressed into your throat further, “I beg to differ.”

“You think I am not an honest one? I am hurt, Your Grace,” Zarita purred low against your ear. “My countrymen aren’t so loyal, you see. They can change their minds like the flip of a coin. So vile and dishonest. They will tell you they keep your safety whilst backstabbing you in a bed you think will protect you.”

The blade at my throat tells me otherwise. “You’re telling me you are attempting to drive me away from your people just so you can save me? In a highly fortified castle, my guards are out defending for these walls to remain high, but you think you can whisk me away without a soul noticing?”

“I am more than quick, little Queen. I can always knock you out, easy to travel,” you whimpered at the suggestion before she added. “With the right remedy, of course.”

“What will you do with me?” You questioned. “Since you wish to keep me away from both our people?”

There was a pause, the heavy toll of the bells that rung mournfully for your capital, the sound of cannons and swords clashing, the fear that your countrymen were dying trying to protect you, not knowing you were easy to reach. “I can be of some help, perhaps if you will allow me,” Zarita compromised. “Perhaps even a personal knight.”

The laugh that came from your parted lips was unexpected and startled both of you, promptly continuing with what you had thought, regardless of what your situation was. “That is like having the jewel thief be head of protecting the crown jewels. Do you think your proposition will be allowed for your attempt of assassinating me? Or so… how will your proposal go for the people of my council?”

“Rats,” Zarita hissed smoothly. “Men are rats and born to fester, to plague your lands. Like your old father, he was blind to be guided by fools and he will lead his own daughter to be driven to chaos by foolish men too.”

Your father had registered the best of men from around Ereon to help lead you to the best of wisdom. All ranging with many skills, the only issue you found was that they had been around your father’s age or even older, putting ahead what were old beliefs and acts that would please the people and lands regardless if you thought otherwise. New things needed to cut the old out, you always thought… but something like this seemed preposterous.

You smiled automatically, choosing the right words as the grip of the blade loosened further, “What are you trying to say, Zarita?”

The Rakshasa purred right into your ear, sending the shudders of what you couldn’t help but feel were of delight when she replied, “Who wants to listen to an old fool of a man when you can listen to another woman?”

She wasn’t wrong with this, but why did you so badly want to agree? A clawed hand came to wipe back a fallen strand of your hair, gentle and soothing. “You have a good way with words, Zarita,” you began. “But what else can you provide?”

“Someone who knows these lands best, from those who speak wrong of you and allying spies for your power,” she whispered lowly. “Or I can be a shoulder for you to cry on, a friend… someone to keep your bed warm when you’re lonely and cold.”

Your cheeks flushed, but she continued. “I can be a great help for many things, My Queen, so long as you have me.”

“If I say yes, what would you do with me as soon as you release me?”

“Perhaps we can celebrate,” her laughter rumbled through your chest. “Wine and cheese, or even chat whilst the men continue their fighting.”

“We can dine when this siege is over,” you corrected. “For now, I know of a place you can lead me to, one far from the eyes of both our men.”

Zarita purred excitedly, kneading her head against the back of your neck, “I’m listening.”

-

The twists and turns of the endless dark hallways were how you remembered them to be: when you had been ten and wandered through below whilst trying not to be caught by guards on their nightly duties. It was an easy escape when you had one built into the foundations of your room some couple of centuries ago.

The matted fur of Zarita caught little of her shadow or movements as she moved in front of you, leading the way with the small torch provided, indeed, it was certain she moved along the shadows with her dark attire and pelt blending seamlessly.

“You say this will lead us to the sanctum?” Her voice echoed through the narrow walls, the soft timbre to lure you out of your running thoughts. “The sanctum has been the safest part of the Keep, holding the fortifications and secret tunnels to lead to the shores.” You announced coolly, wracking your nerves against your tense fists. “I’ve seen it myself.”

The Rakshasa chuffed, “You know of war?”

“I’ve known of sieges, but not ones that lasted so long into the night,” you replied. “With sieges like these, it took days before I could finally rest, not from hearing the bells ringing for our doom. But my aunt’s army has been quick to come, thanks to the forces surrounding the Stormholme Keep.”

“Ah, the Moors,” Zarita hummed. “They are just as preoccupied in banishing my kind away. A couple of thousand years ago, when the first iron giants fell after helping to build the keep, the distant relative, an iron lord, decided in his best interest to control the population of Rakshasas.”

You felt a build of uncomfortableness build in your stomach, unsettling your nerves further, “Lady Ryllae never taught me of this history.”

“No-one really does, it’s kept secret,” Zarita hissed through her pointed teeth. “They like to keep the history of some out from humans so it looks like your race are the only ones suffering.”

The end of the hallway grew lighter and lighter with little light being cast through the crack of the wall. You moved in front of her, pushing past the bookshelf as silence fell between the two of you. “Zarita… I never knew-”

“That is fine, little Queen,” she responded dejectedly, but the whiteness of her teeth shone through. “You were not even needed to be told. Your old father made sure to keep it out of your history lessons, and to make sure no child born would know.”

It boiled your blood all the same from hearing of these tails of the past. The tenderness of your hand came to rest on her shoulder, feeling through the iron of her doublet made you question how she retrieved it. “I apologise on behalf of my ancestors who came before me. No more, when this is over, people will know of what happened, of the blood that was spilt and how no soul has been at peace since.”

“You needn’t be so kind, little Queen.” Zarita made the move to come in closer to you, the rumbling in her throat brought further shivers through you. So up close you could see that her eyes were not only a lovely chestnut hue but were flecked with gold.

The secret door was opened with a loud groan as the two of you stepped through into the large room. Glass candles surrounded the room with its high frames and columns that reached the sky, fake windows that always seemed to be open constantly were framed with hues of blues and greens, giving the ceiling a beautiful contrast to what would’ve been happening outside.

In the middle of the large room, sat the statue of the Matron Mother statue, a hooded figure knelt praying silently, almost in a state of oblivion when they turned to face the two of you. Quick as a fox, the figure had stood, slashing open the bronze of their sword as a threat to not you, the person behind, but you caught a glance of the silver in their hair.

You stepped forth cautiously, “Aunt Ryllae?”

“You’re not harmed?” The Lady of the Moors was quick to run to you, enveloping you in her arms and kissing your brow. “Gods be merciful, Hell surrounds us, sweet Caecia.”

“Will we ever see the end of this turmoil? I will not allow the Maetrine Keep to fall.” You admitted with dignity still strong in your heart. “Yes, my little cub. It will, however,” Lady Ryllae turned her gaze to the Rakshasa standing close to your side. “We must discuss… these matters. Your assassin is free.” 

“She is,” you sighed. “But, although questioning how she escaped can be a matter of discussion with my guards, my concern lies with how we will flee in this predicament.” The Rakshasa had a deadly gaze sent on your aunt, glaring with her ears bent back and flat against her head, eyes narrowed into slits. “I have been told of my utmost safety from her.”

“Oh, I can see for certain,” Lady Ryllae didn’t budge. “You would make her a knight then? Personal to you?” You exhaled deeply, turning to glance at her from your side. From her, Zarita was calm and steady as a river, growing low and soft in the back of her throat, her side brushing against yours. You felt protected already somehow. “Indeed. That was the deal we signed. My safety for her loyalty to be sworn as my knight.”

“Very well,” your aunt seemed wary as she pointed her gaze to Zarita. “Though know this, turncoat, if you dare lay a hand on your Queen and I hear word, I will hunt you to the ends of Ereon.

“Of course, Lady of the Moors.” Zarita coolly responded.

The Protector of the Stormholme Keep turned her gaze back to you, the tired smile replacing her features, worn from battle and skirmishes. My Queen, perhaps our place, for now, is here. You should rest, you must be worn.”

“As for you, Aunt Ryllae. Try and rest up as much as you can… All of us.”

The silver-haired lady nodded and bowed, not looking back on Zarita and she took her place back in front of the statue, continuing to pray as if she had been disturbed. “She prays a lot, doesn’t she?” Zarita noted not so softly in your ear.

“She prays because she worries about our fate.” You replied, going over to sit by the bookshelves, sitting down with Zarita not far to copy you. “Do you not pray?”

“I stopped a long time ago,” she was absent in space, drawling. “I suppose I lost many things that I forgot how to pray.”

“That is fair,” you slowly began gracelessly, turning to try and get comfortable, Zarita taking notice. “You are not comfortable, are you, Little Queen?” It took a small laugh to bubble over from your dried lips, glancing back to her. “You took notice?”

The Rakshasa put down her weapon to the side of her, opening her arms with a smoothness to her words, “Come here, I can warm you.” You didn’t object even when remembering too late that she had been rotting in an iron cell for who knew how long, crawling into her arms, resting your head into the crook of her shoulder and neck, surprised by how warm she had been with little on. Her fur was matted and short, but was fuzzy and soft against the flesh of your cheek, making your squirm momentarily. Zarita chuckled, not daring to move as she cradled you like a babe, a soft purr coming from her chest that reverberated through her into you. “Better?”

“Much, thank you.” You mumbled against her, trying to keep your eyes shut, ignoring how your heart stammered in your chest, hoping you couldn’t hear. Hers was steady and strong, pulling you to listen to it and only it, whilst the sounds of war continued outside.

When she believed you were sleeping from the lack of movement, Zarita glanced back to see whether any eyes were on her, before kneading her head into yours, nuzzling the side of your head and happy to feel you nuzzle back.

“Sleep well, my little Queen.”