#i like how the light in his horns and claws makes them seem like jewels

[veyette]

Dragon!Sapnap from @pomellon

The obvious third member that should have been posted way sooner except my app shut down and I lost everything untill today *happy sobs*

So anyway the fire effects were so hard to reproduce, and I now prefer the no-coloured version. But he rocks so much...

[thrashkink-coven]

Excellent ritual with Lord Lucifer this evening. It seems Lord Belial has found his way onto my altar. Stolas, Paimon and Kerberos were also eager to make appearances, I sense that I’ll be working more with them very soon. There aren’t enough words to explain how exciting it is to be entering another phase.

This isn’t much of a ritual report, but I did end up writing down a couple things from my trance with them.

“Throughput this ritual, I saw many things and confronted many demons, mainly my fear of stagnation. I ask myself where it comes from and remind myself that I’m okay.”

“I came upon a river in the shadowy dark, it reflected muted light. In this river was an old canoe of some kind, and a robbed figure, perhaps a skeleton, wearing many gold chains, rings, and jewels. In his boat were riches as well. I climbed in the boat and we ventured down the river into a cave, which resembled the female genitalia. Into the void we went, and soon all was black. We came upon a shore, which was lined with sand and I exited the boat and walked deeper into the darkness. When I looked back to the driver of the boat, I knew this was Paimon.”

“I returned to “the desert” (possibly Venus), and began that long, quiet walk deeper into the Void. When I struck the light of Godhood, which was like a match in my hands, around me ignited a bright circle of fire. The circle creates a sigil. Through the flames I could see Him vaguely, and 6s and 7s.”

“In the darkness I see a hole in the sand emanating pearlescent light. It seems far away, but massive like a crater in the earth. I want to jump inside, when I do, I see the King shielding himself in 6 brilliant wings. He outstretches his arm and beckons me closer. In his eyes I see the holy light of the hidden gnosis.”

“He wore ruby red shoes which glimmered like crystal, we shared rich chocolate cake, he kissed it off my lips and cheeks. He demands that I acquire a chalice for my altar, in which we can share drink together daily.”

“The imagery I saw during our discussion of my goals enabled me to formulate a plan to manifest these dreams. It required the aid of Prince Cerberus, keeper of keys, Lord Bune, of enterprises, Lord Paimon, who I saw as a robed figure rowing a boat in a black void, Lord Belial, of Earth, and my own cunning, swiftness, and devotion. Lord Stolas would be there to accompany Lord Cerberus. Lord Bune would aid Belial.”

We channeled this manifestation with the gracious aid of Prince Cerberus. Together we (with Lucifer) merged our purifying energy to charge the manifestation, erupt from my solar plexus to the centre of my third eye, pushing it into motion, so even now if begins to work. Lord Lucifer wraps over me in wisps of smoke erupting from the circle of fire. I see the eyes of the three headed black dog and a mighty weight blanket my body. Naber’s (Cerberus’) teeth and claws restrain me and we are sensually entertwined. My drops of blood are fire which fuel the object of my eye. Lucifer encourages and watches us work together, shining his light down until fire burns to plasma“

“Cerberus acted as the key into the realm of Lord Belial, who I am not familiar with. Lord Belial was very welcoming, extremely responsive, business like. I see a horned figure surrounded in flames, with wide grin, a satisfied demeanour.”

“A sigil was drawn on two leaves of basil and burned whilst channeling Lord Cerberus and Lord Belial”

I then did a tarot reading with Lords Hermes and Lucifer, and Lord Belial. Hermes acted only as an intermediary. Belial made it very clear that he was ready and determined to get started with the work, and I have no objections to this. He was sure to hammer home that the best time is now. He likes the way we work together and sees us having a “fruitful” relationship. He references fruit and trees many times, saying that he produces trees which bare fruit.”

“I leave this ritual feeling hopeful and determined, excited. I enter this new phase with perfect love and perfect trust. So Blessed Be.”

Immediately after the ritual I see it’s effects taking form. I run to grab a notebook to plan out my week, arrange some study material, and give my offerings to my Lords.

Thank you infinitely to the Light Bringer who is always bringing me closer to my goals even when things seem uncertain. I cherish every moment we spend together and will sing your praises forever more. Hail Lucifer! ✴️ Hail thyself! 🔱

[dreamyautumns]

TreyMal fanfic for my boyfriend💚🖤

Crack!

Trey turns around. The basket in his arms creaks a bit as he searches for the source of the mysterious noise.

“Did I just imagine that…?”

Trey goes back to walking down the path to Riddle’s house, when he suddenly hear’s something again. This time, it sounds like a low growl.

Something’s definitely in this forest…

Trey pulls out the magic pen from his pocket and looks around, wondering what the source of the noise could be.

“Hello, human…”

Trey finally decides to look up. He’s suddenly caught trapped within the gaze of jewel green eyes. A dark shadow casts over the land as he realizes what it is.

Oh damnit… it’s a dragon!

~

It’s hard for Trey to become particularly frightened since he’s so calm. But being face to face with a gigantic dragon, who he assumes is around 50 feet tall, was highly unsettling. Trey slips the pen back in his pocket and backs away, holding his hands up.

“L-listen, sir… I don’t want any trouble. Honest. I’m just delivering goods to my friend who lives in the village through the woods…”

The dragon dips its head down to meet Trey’s golden, amber eyes. Smoke pours out of its nostrils as it inspects the basket, flicking it’s tail back and forth. Trey holds his ground, but it’s hard for him to resist the urge to drop his basket and run.

“You… are a baker? I can smell sweets,” the dragon rumbles.

“Uh… y-yeah! Yeah, I’m a baker. I live with my family in town? We got a whole bunch of sweets there,” Trey answers. “Did you… wanna try one?”

The dragon pulls back before tilting its head. “Hmm… they do smell rather delectable. Alright, then. Indulge me with your “sweets”, human…”

The dragon suddenly glows bright green. Trey’s eyes are blinded as he feels the cold, ominous shadow fall back a bit. When the light fades, he looks up to see the dragon no longer there.

“Huh?”

In the dragon’s place now stands a man who towers over the forest. His skin is pale, and his horns glisten in the light. His eyes remain as bright and peridot green as ever, and his fingernails are painted black. Trey assumes it must be to match his claws. The man seems no older than Trey by a year.

“Fufufu… are you startled by my appearance?” The dragon asks. Trey rubs the back of his head awkwardly.

“I mean… can’t say I was particularly keen on knowing you were also a giant human…”

“Correction; I am a giant fairy. I am half dragon, half fairy. My name is Malleus Draconia.”

“Malleus Draconia…” Trey repeats. “Quite the strong sounding name you got. I’m Trey Clover. Nice to meet you…?”

Malleus exhales, a puff of smoke surrounding the baker. Trey coughs a bit as his glasses are fogged up. “The pleasure is mine, Clover. Now, I’d like to try one of your sweets, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Trey nods, pulling out a small loaf of bread he packed for extra measure. Malleus takes it and swallows it as if it were no more than a mere crumb.

“So, was it t-to your liking?” Trey asks nervously.

“It was quite delicious… you make these goods yourself?” Malleus asks, shuffling. His movements cause a slight tremor to run through the ground. Trey holds himself against a tree to stabilize himself.

“Yes, m-me and my family make them.”

Malleus turns and dips his head down, looking at Trey at eye level. The dragon fae smiles in a teasing manner before blowing another puff of smoke at him. Trey coughs once again and wipes his glasses off.

“How lovely~ you’re quite the charming human.”

“Charming?” Trey chuckles awkwardly. “I’ve never really been described as “charming”, to be honest.”

Malleus chuckles again, his laugh rattling the trees. “You’re quite funny. I think I wish to keep you.”

“Huh? Keep me?” Trey asked. “Malleus, what do you-“

Before he can even get a word out, the giant scoops him up in the palm of his hand and levitates off the ground, smiling at the boy in his hands. Trey holds onto Malleus’ fingers and looks down in a state of worry.

“U-uh, Malleus?! Where are you taking me?!”

“You’re coming home with me, only for a little bit. You fascinate me. Do keep me entertained, human~”

[antiaircraftcrayon]

It was comical but sad at the same time. I couldn’t slay a dragon no bigger than my thumb. The copper coin it was dragging across the dirt was nearly as big as it was. It didn’t even have a lair. No lair and a hoard of a single coin. I couldn’t tell this slaying story without getting laughed out of the pub!

Instead I hatched an idea. I pulled out my money pouch and put it on the ground, opening facing the tiny dragon so the little lizard could see inside. I saw the interest peak in its eyes and it drug it’s small coin inside the little pouch.

And that’s how I acquired a dragon as a pet twelve months ago. And it’s gone interestingly since then.

The first time a thief reached into my pouch and pulled his hand out with a missing finger sent me howling with laughter. I wouldn’t have noticed him had he not yelled in pain, and I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to tell the castle guard which way he went.

I hadn’t thought about it before then, but it seemed my tiny friend knew my hand. Or perhaps recognized the silver ring on my finger. It made no difference, my hand was safe reaching inside to take from the pouch. I assumed it was because my hand was the hand that increased the dragon’s hoard as well.

Now I had heard of dragon’s greed and how it could destroy a man’s mind. But I had never heard of dragon’s luck. It seemed each quest I undertook, each bounty I pursued, the monetary gain was at least double what I had normally made. It got to the point where my pouch was getting too heavy. My lizard friend was nearly squished.

Enter dragon’s luck again. In my travels, I met a a man named Merlin. After certain, how should I call it… “assistances” were made, we became quite good friends. Good enough to confide in him about my friend. Merlin, being the learned man he is, taught me more about dragons than I previously knew. Key pieces of information such as a dragon will grow in comparison to the wealth of its hoard. And they stay that size. For instance, if a rare gem were retrieved from a thief and added to a certain money pouch, and then returned to its owner later, said dragon would grow to the size of the wealth of that gem.

Something you should know about Merlin, he’s a rather handy man to know. He’s learned in more than dragon knowledge. He also knows a thing or two about enchantments. Like making the interior of a certain pouch larger than what it appears to be.

My hands were still raised in the air as I finished my story. I looked around at the crossbows aimed at my chest. This merry band of men, as they called themselves, peaking out from trees and bushes,

“That’s a good story,” a man wrapped in a cloak said. “But we’ll still be having that money pouch”

I reached down slowly as I heard the creak of their crossbows twitch.

“I feel it’s necessary for you to understand, as many men can’t comprehend,” I responded as I untied the money pouch from my belt.

I speak softly as I drop the pouch to the ground.

“Their minds can’t process what they see in the short amount of time they have left.”

The pouch hits the dirt and pops open, spilling coins onto the ground. Rivers of coins as if a whole mountain of them had toppled over. Jewels and gems were among the pile. Swords, shields, suits of armor. It were as if the kings treasury had been flipped on its side.

And then from the pouch stretched a great scaly foot, claws reflecting the sunlight. A leg followed of incredible size. Impossible size. Like a tree this leg came forth and then a snout. The nostrils, hot breath too, and the bridge of a nose. Then eyes, a deep and dark orange flecked with black and gold. It’s blue and green scales shimmered in the light, catching it like a pond. Great horns curled around its crown wreathed in rings of silver bands.

The great beast unfurled it’s wings and shaded the sun. It could see above the trees if it’s neck weren’t curled down bringing it’s head to face me. I reached up with my left hand, finger adorned by my single silver ring, and scratched under her chin in that spot I knew she liked. She watched me point across the glade at the men now frozen in place by their fear.

“Thieves,” I spoke to her.

To this day, I still don’t know if telling the story helps them process what they see in the very short time they have left.

You wished to find a dragon to slay for its treasure. Now you’re not sure how to feel seeing a thumb-sized dragon try to drag its single shiny copper coin with it as it runs away from you.

[aka-indulgence]

Jewel of jewels

In which the reader (if you choose to step into the self-insert shoes) gets abducted by a dragon.

I’m. I’m just a fan of “dragon steals you to make you part of his treasure hoard” idea sfhjsdks

(Male dragon, female reader)

AKA the rare original idea (meaning: not fandom related, also actually not rare because I think about original ideas too but this is one time I have the motivation to actually write it)

---

...

The ground... it feels hard. Your body aches a little. You groan a little as you touch your back. And is that rock under you?

You open your eyes a little, slowly becoming as wide as saucers as you take in the environment around you. Quickly, you push yourself off the ground to look, ignoring the slight scratches on your hands as they push against small pebbles.

You’re... in a cave?

It’s enormous, giant stalagmites and stalactites in the distance. Somehow, the cave seems to be illuminated by something, and it feels warm in here.

You move again, startling when you knock into something, turning to see... coins?

Gold coins littered around you, the emblem on them unfamiliar to you. You even see some other shiny things in the scarce piles around you (that no doubt had more value than your home), necklaces, rings...?

You stand up, walking towards the light source, where the ceilings are patterned with golden shimmering... only to immediately stumble, falling forwards on your hands. You were on the ledge, high above the ground of the cavern you see, but also:

The cave was brimming with gold, jewels, ornaments- treasure far grander than you could’ve ever imagined. There were mountains of coins, some a different color. You can see the twinkling of different jewels, red, green, blue, even one that seemed to have the colors of the rainbow.

You could barely see the cavern floors, that’s how much treasure you saw.

“W... what?” you say, your echo fading away, your voice too small to fill the cave- the size of which made you goosebump. “Where...? How? Why?”

You step back, your head spinning. You look behind, and it seems this ledge is jutting out of the cave walls- there’s nowhere to go.

“Why.... am I here...?” you say, your voice small. You can’t seem to remember anything-

“Princess...”

You scream, falling on your back. The voice was so immense, it felt as if the cave shook with it. You could feel it vibrating through the ground as something warm washed over you.

You turn to look- and what you saw struck such fear into your heart that any sound you would’ve made froze.

Near the back of the ledge, you were staring into large amber and red eyes, its gaze piercing you.

“You seem speechless, my dear.”

He had dark scales, armored plating covering his body. It shimmered slightly, reflecting the gold. You were as tall as his snout, and his blades for teeth were as big as your torso. He had ridged, wavy horns that pointed backwards from his head. Huge folded wings. You can’t see exactly how large his body was (you were too petrified to even think of going near the ledge to check), but you could see his forked tail in the distance, swishing back and forth almost playfully like a snake, the sound of gentle whipping in the air.

You think it was safe to say he’s giant.

The dragon chuckles, the sound like a rumbling volcano.

“Do you like what you see, princess?”

You finally find the urgency to move again when the dragon brings his head closer to you, the small movement making the earth shake.

You shuffle backwards as fast as you could, sentences failing to form.

“Wh-what, who?!”

Your fingers feel cold, your face feels cold. You scream again when something big thuds behind you, the dragon having put his claws behind you, stopping you from moving any further.

The dragon shook his head. You could see his horrid teeth forming a menacing grin. “I can see you are frightened, poor little thing. To answer your question, I am a dragon, and I’ve brought you to my lair. Don’t you remember the mountains...?”

The mountains?

The mountains...

...

It was a nice sunny day. Clouds dotting the skies.

A group of villagers decided to search for the “Dragon’s Hoard”, a legend no doubt been spoken about countless time, not just in your village. There were rumors that one of legends was in a mountain near the village. A foolish knight had come and gathered a group of men to go with him on this quest, including someone you knew.

“No, please, just come back home!”

Your childhood friend, bless his soul, was always the one to look for adventure, no matter what sort of trouble he might’ve gotten into. It was almost like he was testing the reaper himself. Dragon or no dragon, you knew the quest was too dangerous even for knights. If there was no dragon, the mountain will surely prove to be too grueling for everyone involved. Yes, the people of your village have scaled it... but never past a point.

“This could be big for us! We’ll no longer be a simple village, we’ll be richer than kings and queens, haha!”

“That won’t happen if you lose your life! Please just come home! If it truly is a dragon’s hoard, you surely won’t live long enough for the treasure to matter!”

Despite your own words, you followed them just past the point your people usually ventured. The knight had found you annoying, evidently, and while the people from your village defended you, they also insisted on pressing on.

“Then what are you going to do about the dragon, Mr. Knight? Are you going to vanquish it with your needle?”

“Peasant woman, you don’t know how us knights have been trained. We know how to kill an oversized beast.”

And then the unthinkable happened.

A large shadow had emerged from behind the mountain. No one realized what it was until it was too late.

“D... DRAGON-!!”

No one even had the time to prepare. In the moment a village man shouted the word, he was upon you. A roar that cracked the skies made everyone freeze in their spots, and then...

And then all you could remember was screaming, as the ground receded further and further away from you as you were taken ever higher.

The... the dragon... he took you.

“Ah. So you do remember me after all.”

The dragon’s slit pupils tightened a bit, locking onto the small movement of you bringing your knees closer to your chest, as you try to shrink as best you could.

“W... why...” your voice felt quieter than a whisper after the dragon spoke. “Why have you brought me here, oh great dragon?”

The dragon made a sort of growling sound- if you thought his voice shook you, the sounds coming from deep in his throat was an earthquake. He blows a small ring of smoke around you.

“I know you have heard dragon stories, little one.” the dragon hummed. “Surely, you know the one where the dragon keeps the princess in the tower...?”

You have. But that doesn’t explain anything to you.

“Yes... but I-I’m not a princess...”

You see more of his white teeth exposed. Is that... a smirk?

“Oh my dear, did something happen to you while you were asleep? First you forget who I am, the next you don’t realize you’re a princess... whatever am I to do with a cute little thing like you?”

“Y-you must be mistaken!” You try to explain. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else. I-I’m not a princess. I live in a village near the mountain. I’m not the princess you seek, I’m sorry...”

The dragon seems to pause for a moment, as if taking in the information.

Oh no... have you disappointed him with the truth-?

“You are the one who’s mistaken, princess.” The dragon purrs. It sounded like he... seems to have taken a liking to you? “Aren’t princesses beautiful women who take your breath away? You cannot lie to me in the hopes of being released.”

“I-I’m not royalty, I don’t have a crown-!”

“I care not for a crown on your head, little pet.” the dragon scoffs. “I have countless of crowns and medals and gold more than any human can fathom. If I wanted a crown, i would take the crown, not the human who owns it.”

“S... so why take... me?” You look up at the dragon helplessly, the fear lingering but confusion clouds your mind.

The dragon laughs, a low, rolling rumble.

“My dear. As a dragon, I have a fondness for treasures... everything that’s beautiful. So beautiful that it corrupts weak minds with greed... I am that greed. When I see something precious, I take it here, to my hoard. And you, princess... what are princesses but someone precious, someone more precious than even the most valuable jewel...?”

You squeak, scrambling away as the dragon turns his claws, moving them as if to cup you. You hear it again- that growling sound. You see his mouth stretching into another smile.

“I have seen many humans seek my hoard. None have ever come close. Even when there was only but a small hill of gold, I witnessed kings attempt to find my treasure trove. Anyone that came close, I burned to nothing but ashes. Few I let survive to tell the tale. There are others like me who have done the same, making those poor humans confused with many tales of dragons, where you can’t tell which is real and which was fabricated...”

The dragon turns his head, bringing one eye closer to you, as it looked like he was drinking your image.

“But I. I am luckier than the others.” The dragon said. “None of them have the fortune of finding such a precious little thing like you.”

The dragon’s claws twitched closer to you. You can’t move, you can’t look away from the dragon’s eye.

“I see people. I hear people who come for my treasures. And I saw you. Sweet little thing. You didn’t want treasure. You only wanted everyone to be safe... you knew how deadly this ‘adventure’ would be. I saw how tired you were... yet you followed those men, same as the others- unprepared for a dragon.

As soon as I saw you, I knew you had to be mine, and mine alone. Humans don’t know how to take care of a treasure like a dragon does. So I came for you. I came to claim the precious gem that had unwittingly wandered into my domain.”

Your breaths were short. You swallowed thickly as it felt like your body was rooted to the ground.

You didn’t want to know, yet the question tumbled out of your mouth anyway.

“Wh... what do you intend to do with me, dragon..?”

The dragon shows off his mighty teeth again. You could almost see your face reflected in a tooth.

“As I do with the rest of my treasures, love.”

You shrieked as the dragon’s claws fell on top of you, digging into the ground like prison bars as you’re caged in. The dragon’s eye peers in, showering you in an ominous, red glow.

“You belong to me now, little one. I don’t intend on ever letting go of my precious treasures. And you, my dear... you are my most prized possession.”

[makoodlesarchive]

when i was young i fell into a river

pairing: kirishima x reader

word count: 5k

warnings: none, really! a bit of angst, a bit of fluff i guess?

notes: hello, it's me, back again with some writing! it's been a long time and i'm very sorry about that, but i've finally gotten around to writing and posting my spirited away au! i'm v stressed with college so this turned out more vent-y than i had originally intended, but hopefully it's enjoyable anyway! thank you all for being so patient with me, i am endlessly grateful for you

The dream is the same as always, comforting in its familiarity.

A salt-scented breeze cools your sweat-soaked brow as you pause behind one of the sliding screen doors, the rice paper windows doing nothing to block out the chatter of the other workers. The bubbling noise of the bathhouse is constant, and the quiet little moments you steal away for yourself in the middle of the working day is the only solitude you’ve gotten since you came here. The work is physically back-breaking, but you know that you’re working towards a goal. It’s just a shame that you can’t remember exactly what that goal is.

One of the other girls calls your name, and you sigh as your unofficial break comes to an end. You slip back into the room, ignoring the way the frog spirits snicker and hold their noses as you pass. They like to complain a lot about your human stench, but it doesn’t stop them from threatening to eat you every time you make a mistake. Fear, you’ve found, is an uncomfortably successful motivator.

The days bleed into one another, full of scrubbing dark wooden floors and the rich earthy scents of the herbal mixes they use in the baths. The spirits that frequent the bathhouse, that once inspired so much awe and fear in your heart, become so commonplace that you hardly spare them a glance anymore. From the cackling masked spirits that always travel in threes to the grinning cat spirits to the sombre, unspeaking river spirits, you only go as far as to offer them a polite bow before scurrying out of their way. They never spare you any attention, anyway -- most of the time, the spirits’ eyes seem to look right through you.

All but one, that is.

He looks to be a boy around your age, but appearances can be deceiving around here. His red eyes are often dull and blank, but even so they have a certain ageless quality about them that no human twelve-year-old could ever possess. His scarlet hair sticks up in gravity-defying spikes, and his skin is as smooth and clear as running water. His face is often stuck in a carefully cultivated blank expression; the only thing about him that doesn’t seem intimidatingly otherworldly are the deep purple shadows under his eyes.

He helped you once, when you first came here. The rare act of kindness had stuck in your head, made even more remarkable in the face of the following weeks and months of harsh work and cruel co-workers. You wonder if he remembers; he doesn’t often look at you, but sometimes when he does you swear you can see a flicker of something in his eyes.

Two of the girls start yelling at each other, arguing heatedly over the way the work is being divided. A foreman appears to break up the fight, but then they both start shouting at him instead. You take the moment of distraction to relax, wincing at the pull of your tired muscles in the back of your neck. All the other girls working at the bath house are older and bigger than you, which means you need to work twice as hard to keep up with them and prove that you’re worth keeping around.

In the brief moment of rest, your eyes are drawn slowly to the corridor, where guests and workers alike bustle past as they travel to the treatment rooms and bathtubs deeper into the bathhouse. As if you’ve conjured him just by thinking about him, the boy stands in the doorway.

You straighten up on instinct, suddenly self-conscious of your sweat-soaked body and dishevelled uniform. He’s not even looking your way, preoccupied with the two girls who are still yelling at the frog foreman. Slowly though, his eyes began to travel the room, and you take a deep breath and hold it as his dull ruby gaze lands on you like a physical weight. You crack a nervous smile, feeling the muscles in your cheeks that have gone unused for weeks ache at the strain, and raise a hand to give him a tiny wave.

For just a moment, that blankness in his face seems to quiver and fall away. He smiles back.

You jolt awake, breathing heavily and coated in a light sheen of sweat. You’ve had the same dream, or some variation of it, regularly ever since you were twelve years old and while it’s become familiar to you, you still find yourself feeling vaguely panicked when you wake up after it, as though you’ve forgotten something very important.

Once your heartbeat has calmed down a little, you pull yourself out of bed and trudge into the kitchen to make yourself some tea. The weak, milky light of dawn filters in through the windows, lighting your apartment up just enough so that you don’t have to turn on a light to make your way around. You take your tea out to the balcony and sit, gazing out at the purplish early morning sky.

Most of the time when you wake up from those dreams you feel blessedly lucky to be living alone with no one to question or bother you, but sometimes you can’t help but be overcome by overwhelming loneliness. The dreams are silly and most of the time they don’t even make any sense, but in the aftermath of them you’re always left with a vague sense of unfulfillment, though you can’t put your finger exactly on what it is you’re missing. You always end up exactly like this; sitting outside on your balcony in the early morning light, drinking tea alone and desperately wishing for something more.

You sigh, and go back inside.

The dream is the same, but different.

The garden is in full bloom, greenery overlaid with bursts of beautiful bright colours. Camellias, rhododendrons, and oleanders wave and shiver gently in the warm breeze, and apple blossoms hang heavily from a nearby tree. The flowering garden is enormous and maze-like, and you have yet to see it in any state other than fully flourishing.

It’s a beautiful place, especially after the hot, cramped working quarters of the bathhouse. You inhale the sweetly fragranced air and feel the knot of tension in your spine unfurl; it feels like the first time that you’ve been able to breathe all week, but that’s not the only reason that you’ve found yourself outside.

At the bottom of the garden, the grass drops off into a sheer drop. The cliff face overlooks a seemingly endless ocean, and you perch a safe distance from the drop before leaning back in the grass. The sky is an almost surreally deep blue and you watch as enormous fluffy clouds float by, looking as though they’ve been painted on a jewel-blue canvas.

It’s not the first time you’ve had this dream, and you know what you’ll see if you keep patiently watching.

It doesn’t take long — it never does. You time your lunch breaks precisely, all so you get to see this sight.

The clear blue sky makes it so much easier to spot the shiny white scales, flashing jewel-bright in the sunlight. The dragon writhes in the sky, streaking through the air like a great serpent caught in the wind. Even from this distance, you can see the knife-like teeth, the great sharp claws that gleam like pyrite, and the twisting horns that erupt from his head like daggers made from calcified bone. He looks deadly, a living weapon that swims through the air like a salmon in open water, but the sight of him makes something settle in your stomach.

You wonder what it would feel like to fall through the air with nothing but the wind to break your fall. You imagine it must feel like freedom.

The dragon flutters through the air, buoyed by the gentle sea breeze. If you didn’t know better, you might almost think that he was showing off — his movements are hypnotic, dreamlike, more like a dance than anything. His scales glow pearlescent in the midday sun, otherworldly and earthly all at once.

You could happily stay and watch him skim through the sky forever, but already the bell is being rung to call all workers back into the bathhouse. You heave a sigh so deep it feels as though your chest is about to crack with the force of it, before hauling yourself to your feet.

Your break is over, and now it’s back to work.

Sometimes you find it difficult to tell when you’re dreaming and when you’re awake. It feels as though everything is always happening all at once, in the present tense, forever. You don’t get to rest when you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, because the dreams just keep coming and coming. Sometimes you don’t feel like your life is real when you’re awake.

Riding on the train has always been therapeutic, especially at this time of the early morning. The sun rising lazily over the horizon sends milky threads of purple and pink across the cloudy sky, and you cradle your chin in your hand as you gaze out across the moving landscape. You love these little trips, feeling more at home in the creaky, overfull train carriage than you do in your own bedroom sometimes, though you can’t quite work out where that particular feeling comes from.

You know sometimes that stories end with “And then I woke up — it was only a dream”, but in your experience the story simply doesn’t end. You cannot fully wake up without the tail-ends of your dreams clinging to you for the rest of the day, and you never fully sleep. You just dream, dream, dream.

Sighing, you lean your head back against the seat that you’re slumped in. The train carriage is too full, and you were lucky to get a seat in the first place — from your vantage point, you watch as people sway in tandem with the motion of the train. It’s almost hypnotic, how they undulate back and forth with every turn, brushing against each other only to be pulled apart again by the lurching train.

Through the sea of bodies, you catch a man’s eye. It breaks the monotony of the morning commute and your own spiralling thoughts, and your spine straightens unconsciously. He quirks an eyebrow briefly, slightly, in such a way that no one would be able to safely accuse him of having done it.

You look away, startled for no good reason. Do you know him? He feels familiar in a way that you can’t quite put your finger on. The train rattles on, and it takes several long minutes before you work up the nerve to glance the man’s way again. He’s still watching you, but you’re ready for it this time. His attention isn’t such a shock, and you allow your eyes to wander over his face properly.

You must know him, you think. Your eyes track over his features as though they’re winding over a well-worn path, admiring the curve of his nose and the fullness of his lips and the arch of his eyebrows over his intense, watchful eyes.

He smiles at you, and it feels as though you’re sharing a secret from across the crowded train carriage. You smile back — it’s just a small tug of the corners of your mouth, but it’s the most you’ve smiled in months. Longer, maybe.

In the middle of the carriage a woman laughs at something her friend has said and sways backward, blocking your view of the stranger. It feels like a loss.

The train trundles onwards, and the carriage gradually empties out. You watch people step off the train with friends, with their heads ducked low, lost in thought, arguing over the phone, distracted with their book bags. By the time it comes to your stop, the man is gone.

You try not to feel disappointed as you step off the train — it’s silly, after all. You don’t know the man, and whatever you thought you felt as you looked at each other was surely all in your own head. Your head has been awfully full, recently.

As you step off the train you grapple with your bag, side-stepping a businessman who is busy shouting down the phone at some unfortunate coworker. You’re distracted, which is the only reasonable explanation for how long it takes you to realise that the man from the train is standing in front of you.

“Oh.” You blurt, startled. You had already begun to resign yourself to never seeing him again, so you can’t help but feel distinctly caught off guard at the sight of him standing before you. “Hi.”

“Hello.” The man says. He’s looking at you expectantly, but you have no idea what he’s waiting for — as it is, you get completely distracted by his eyes. You hadn’t noticed on the train, but now that he’s up close you see that they’re a truly unusual deep burgundy. He tilts his head when you remain silent, and bites his lip. Now that you’re really looking, you notice how sharp his teeth are. “You’ve barely changed at all.”

You blink at him. “Er…” You trail off nervously. You don’t recognise him, but you feel like you know him. Clearly, he thinks that he knows you.

“It’s fitting, isn’t it? Meeting again on a train?” He smiles, and it’s an impossibly knowing expression. You don’t think you’ve ever been on the receiving end of a look that intimate in your life, though you have no idea what he’s talking about.

Someone collides hard with your shoulder and you stagger for balance. You only look away from the man for a mere second, but it’s enough; when you look again, he’s gone.

You take to walking. There’s a wooded area behind the town, and you enjoy traipsing idly through the trees. Ancient roots erupt out of the dirt and fan over the ground like hairs, and the moss that covers the trunks of the trees is such a deep green that it almost seems like paint pigment. It’s soothing, being surrounded by nature like this. It reminds you of childhood — the simplicity of being able to jump over tree roots under a canopy of pale green leaves, of being able to leave all your thoughts and stress at the boundary of the forest.

It’s where you come after waking sweat-soaked and disoriented from a dream that clings to you like a burr, where you walk among the ferns and the needle-leaved weeds until you manage to shake the last vestiges of memory from your mind. You need it, especially in the mornings where you wake up with the acrid scent of herbal cleanser stinging in your nose or the bite of hard calluses on your palms from non-existent rough cloths. On mornings like that, you walk and walk until you no longer feel as though you’re more alive in your dreams than you are in reality.

Deep in the forest is a great red facade, painted a flaking, faded red. You wander by it frequently, admiring the overgrown greenery that crawls up the walls like reaching fingers, the mossy stone guardian that stands sentinel amongst the cracked flagstones that lead into the tunnelled entrance. You’ve asked around in the town, curious about what exactly this building was for, but most of the locals either don’t know what building you’re talking about or admit that they’re not sure. One man told you that the facade was built for a theme park in the 90s that had ended up going bust in the recession, and that the building only looked old.

You remain unconvinced on that front. The building has the kind of presence that only very old things have; it feels like it’s watching you.

For the most part, your walks in the forest are peaceful. Recently though, you’ve found yourself plagued by an insistent, irritating sense of deja vu. You don’t know where it’s coming from, and it hits you at the strangest of times — when you’re making tea, or in the bath, or cleaning your apartment, or on the train, or admiring the sky on a cloudless day.

The man from the train is the boy in your dreams. It takes you weeks to come to that realisation. You just wake up in the middle of the night on a random Tuesday, with wide eyes and clammy skin and his name slipping from the forefront of your mind.

It shouldn’t be possible, but once it dawns on you, you’re certain of it.

Even stranger is that once you realise it, it feels as though you see him everywhere. You see flashes of red hair when you’re walking down the street, when you’re grocery shopping, when you’re walking home late at night. It’s only ever the barest glance out of the corner of your eye, just overt enough for you to know it’s him, but subtle enough for you to question yourself immediately after.

One night, you travel to a local city to meet some old school friends. At night, the city seems to pulse. The music from seedy clubs spills out into the neon-lit streets, muffled shouted arguments echoes from alleyways and apartments alike, and the streets are peppered with people either scurrying or stumbling home, with very little variation. Though the perpetually overcast sky hides any trace of the moon or stars, the streetlamps reflect in the ever-present stagnant puddles littering the street, lighting them up in varying shades of sickly yellow.

At night, the city seems alive. Chronically ill and struggling to breathe, maybe, but clinging to life all the same.

The way the neon lights flicker in the gloomy darkness, just barely illuminating the shadows of people hurrying through the streets to get in out of the rain, reminds you of something you can’t quite remember. It sits in the back of your mind like a sour taste, but no matter how much you reach for the memory it remains just out of reach.

You spend most of the night staring out of the steamed up window of the pub, entranced by the sight of the night streets and frustrated by the memories that seem to dangle just out of reach. You know that it doesn’t make for good company, and you feel guilty for that. Your friends don’t seem overly surprised at your detachment. You’ve been drifting away for years, and though tonight was supposed to be all about reconnecting it seems clear that it’s not going to work.

When you eventually stand up to leave, with forced smiles and awkward goodbyes, you can’t help but feel melancholy settle over you like a second skin. As you slip out of the pub and onto the dark streets, the thought crosses your mind that you’re not used to being alone like this. It’s a silly thought, really; you’ve been alone for years. But sometimes, in those liminal moments between waking and sleeping, you swear you can hear the gentle drowsy breaths of dozens of people sleeping all around you, as though you’re surrounded on all sides. On those nights you wake up hot and claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but never feeling lonely.

It is probably your own fault, you reflect as you drift down the sidewalk like a ghost. It’s difficult to make an effort to know people when you feel as though you don’t know yourself. You don’t know how to bridge the distance between yourself and other people. You think sometimes that you’re missing chunks of yourself.

You pass an open shopfront that’s serving street food, and glance briefly in at the kitchen. The cook is illuminated only dimly in the smoky room, standing out as a shadow figure more than anything, and for a split second you could swear that he has six arms. You look away quickly and carry on walking — you don’t want to look again only to be proven wrong. You want to preserve that little second of magic strangeness for as long as you can.

The puddles on the street seem like they’re glowing with the light reflected from the neon streetlamps, and you weave your way carefully around them to avoid getting your feet wet. The night has a strange quality about it, almost as though it’s holding its breath.

Considering the combination of your pensive mood and the expectant air of the evening, you don’t feel surprised at all when you look up from the wet cobblestones to find the man standing only a few feet ahead of you.

He smiles like he’s nervous, his gaze tracking carefully over your face. In his hands, he’s holding flowers. Camellias, you think. It’s the first time since you first saw him on the train that hasn’t been a fleeting glance out of the corner of your eye— he’s here in front of you and he’s real and solid and sturdy. He seems more substantial than the streets around you, than your friends back at the pub had been.

“Do you remember me?” He asks, voice soft as though he’s afraid of the answer.

“Remember you?” You croak. It feels as though the words are catching inside your throat. “No. But I’ve seen you every night in my dreams for years.”

If that’s the answer he’s expecting, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking at you, your face, your body. You wonder exactly it is that he’s seeing. “These are for you.” He says eventually, holding out the flowers. “I didn’t- I wanted to bring you something, when I saw you again. And I know that you always liked the garden.”

He’s talking as if the places that you’ve dreamed about are real. It doesn’t come as the earth-shattering surprise you might have expected — rather, it feels like a key turning in an old lock. A click, and then a sense of yes, that’s right.

You take the flowers, and clutch them to your chest. They’re a fleshy pink, with a vibrant yellow centre. The petals are as soft as velvet. Holding them feels like holding a safety blanket. “Thank you.” It’s the only thing that you can manage to say right now. Your thoughts are too full, and nothing else makes it out of your mouth.

It’s rather startling, the feelings that bubble up in your chest. It feels like something has just been unlocked, as though you had stored away all this emotion somewhere deep in your ribcage and then forgotten about it only for it to resurface at this precise moment, for this precise person.

“Eijirou.” You croak. “Kirishima Eijirou.”

His whole face brightens, and his eyes sparkle. “Yes. That’s me. You do remember!”

They’re not quite memories, you don’t think. They come in dreamlike flashes — the garden, an ocean, train tracks, the feral snarling of a dragon with sharp teeth, hard work and hot food, friends.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” Kirishima is saying, his face open and earnest. “But I told you that I’d come and find you again, remember?”

You do remember, sort of. A flash of a warm hand holding yours, pushing you forward over a boundary between one world and another, and a goodbye whispered behind you that sounds like a promise.

“You saved me.”

Kirishima laughs, though his eyes look a little shiny. “It was the other way around, actually. I would have stayed trapped in that bathhouse forever, if it weren’t for you.”

“The bathhouse.” You murmur, wide-eyed. It was real, real, real.

“Things are different now.” He edges closer to you. He’s large and imposing and taller than you, but he’s hunched slightly in an attempt to make himself unthreatening. “That’s why it took so long for me to come for you. Things were changing. Me and Katsuki run the bathhouse now.”

Katsuki. In your mind's eye you see a boy with wild blond hair and a dangerous look in his eyes, a boy who gives you extra rice when he can manage and takes over parts of your chores when you get so tired that you’re fit to pass out.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait.” He says quietly, and the tide of emotion that you had just barely been holding at bay comes crashing over you. Before the first tear has welled over the edge of your eyelids, Kirishima has stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms. The flowers are crushed between your chests as you cry.

“I didn’t even know what I was waiting for.” You cry into his silk suikan.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers into your hair. “I’m here now. I’m not going to leave again.”

You don’t release your grip on him. You’re not willing to take the chance.

After a moment, Kirishima speaks again. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go?” You echo, finally pulling away. “Go where?”

“Home.” He says, and he means the bathhouse. He means the spirit world.

“You want me to work for you?”

“I want you to help us run it.” He corrects. The distinction is important for both of you — though the memories are distant, you both know what it feels like to have your names and voices erased so cleanly that it makes you wonder if you ever existed fully at all.

“I don’t know anything about running a bathhouse. Especially not one for spirits.” You say, but Kirishima just laughs.

“You were always a hard worker. You’ll learn as you go. That’s what we’ve all been doing.”

You want to say yes. The word beats in your head like a drum, and you can’t think of a good reason to say no. The bathhouse. Home. The chance to feel real and awake at the same time.

“Okay.” You say on a breath, staring at him with wide eyes. “Stay with me, this time.”

When Kirishima’s face lights up in a smile, it’s the first time that you think you can accurately describe someone as incandescently happy. “Good luck getting rid of me again.”

You laugh, feeling nearly delirious with relief and joy. It’s real. He’s real. He’s come back for you, and now you’re going back with him. You think you should probably feel nervous or hesitant, but this brief encounter has felt more solid and right than the rest of the night spent with distant school-friends made uncomfortable by your silences.

“So, how do we get there?” You ask, but Kirishima just grins at you like you should already know the answer.

The train station is tucked away down an alley just off a busy main shopping district.

“It’s easy to miss if you don’t know exactly where you're going.” Kirishima tells you with a sharp smile, and it’s easy to believe. The red brick building that housed the train station is unmarked, and the trains couldn’t be seen from the main street. The alley itself is home to many curious sights -- paper lanterns bob overhead (though they don’t seem to be suspended by anything in particular), a yellowed flyer from the 1950s advertising Marlboro cigarettes drifts along on what seems to be a breeze despite the noticeable lack of wind, and three magpies sit on a wall wearing little golden timepieces on chains around their necks and caw in time with the ticking.

“Ready to go home?” Kirishima asks quietly. In his hand, two train tickets flutter in a non-existent breeze.

A family of mice scamper past your feet, pulling a miniature suitcase between them. A tall, thin woman wearing a blank white mask assists them onto the train.

You laugh at the whimsy of it all — it feels as though you’ve stepped into a fairytale, into a dream, into your childhood. “Yes,” You grin, “I’m ready.”

Kirishima beams back at you, and holds out a hand to help you onto the train. Finding a seat was easy — despite all the passengers you had seen boarding, the carriage was oddly empty. As soon as you’re seated, you sigh. It feels as though you’re sinking into an old overstuffed armchair, comfortable and familiar. When the whistle blows and the train starts moving, you turn eagerly to watch as the train begins to pick up speed. Within moments, you find that you can barely recognise the landscape blurring past the window — It seems that you’re zooming passed a beautiful sea-view, despite the fact that the city the train station was located in was conspicuously land-locked. You sigh happily and lean against your seat.

You still don’t remember everything about your experience in the spirit world all those years ago, but you think you remember hearing someone telling you “Once you meet someone you never really forget them. It just takes a while for your memories to return."

You make eye contact with Eijirou, who smiles back at you so fondly that it nearly hurts to look at. He’s changed so much from the boy in your dreams, in your memories. His eyes are no longer glassy and distant — now they’re shiny and expressive and so bright. His hair is longer too; still spiked and wild, but longer and curling softly over the curve of his neck and shoulders. He’s the boy your remember from all those years ago, but he’s also a man now. Grown, like you have, but smiling at you gently just like you’re ten years old again.

Through the window behind his head, the sunrise begins to bathe the water in delicate pinks and yellows. You’ll wait for as long as you need to for the memories to return, but even if they don’t that’s alright. You can just make new ones.

[loosesodamarble]

The Forbidden Deal

Summary: Devil twins from the Underworld are summoned. With no other choice available, a deal is struck.

Genre: general

Word count: ~1200

Content warning: creepy devil behavior

..........

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

The plan was to find out where the users of Forbidden Magic gathered then raid the place with other members of the Grey Deer. They'd arrest everyone involved and seize the relics that connected to the other world.

However, plans rarely, if ever, go as intended. The confrontation was more chaotic than expected. Perhaps a team of four knights wasn't actually enough. The leader of the group had broken away from his followers and ran across a stone dais at the room's center. In his panic as he dismounted the dais, he dropped a pair of black bracelets on the floor.

"Get back here!" Josele shouted as she jumped onto the dais and gave chase.

The man glanced over his shoulder. Then, a frightening grin crossed his face. "Summon!"

In an instant, the atmosphere in the room dropped. The light of the hundreds of candles seemed to dim. A chill ran up every spine. Then, voices.

"This is what I'm talking about. Some excitement in the human world is just what I needed."

"Look at the crowd gathered to welcome us. Quite the pleasant surprise."

Josele dared to look behind her. Standing on the dais with her were, not one but two, devils. They looked similar to human men, but with horns and wings. One's hair was white, paler than alabaster or the light of the moon. The other's was black, darker than an onyx jewel or the deepest night. The space around them was obscured by shadows yet lit up by a soft glow simultaneously. Josele had never felt mana so powerful, so sickeningly dense.

The light-haired devil moved first, slowly approaching Josele. As much as she wanted to, Josele found herself unable to move away. Was it the devil's magic or her own fear keeping her in place? Soon, he reached her. His clawed hand touched Josele's cheek.

"That face of yours, so full of fear...” His eyes were like ice, in color and feeling. “How precious."

Move! You have to fight! Josele told herself so but her body wasn't responding.

The devil's presence, complete with a pair of horns on his crown and wings that seemed to shift in the flickering candlelight around the room, was overwhelming. His eyes met Josele's directly. Yet there was something about his gaze that made her feel like he saw right through her. The smile on his lips revealed sharp teeth, like a predator. The hand on her cheek felt like ice on the skin it touched but sent a burning sensation throughout her body.

"I wonder..." The way the devil smiled, if his expression could be called that, filled Josele with dread. "What else could get such a reaction like this out of you."

At last, Josele's fighting instincts kicked in. She grabbed the hilt of her sword. Before she could draw it however, the devil's other hand grabbed the sword. He shoved the blade back in, creating a sharp *snap* when the metal mouth of the scabbard was hit.

"Not like that would've worked, but I think you should play nice," the devil whispered.

"That's rich coming from you." A pair of hands took hold of Josele's shoulders and pulled her away from the first devil. Josele glanced over her shoulder to see the dark-haired devil standing behind her, face illuminated by the light of his wings. His attention was not on her however. Instead, he addressed the other devil. "You can't even bother to introduce yourself to a lady."

The second devil let go of Josele and she hastily stepped away from them, drawing her sword as she did. The devils appeared unbothered by her action. The light-haired one crossed his arms and smirked, as though he were amused. The dark-haired one pushed his hair back then bowed like a gentleman would.

"I am called Morgen." He gestured to his counterpart. "This is my brother Nacht." Morgen raised his head and smiled, baring his own set of fangs. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. And you are?"

"Josele..." She spoke, compelled by his voice.

"What a cute name," Morgen remarked, his grin never fading. "So, Miss Josele, what kind of deal would you like to strike now that you've summoned us?"

"Deal?! There's no way in hell I'm doing that!" Josele yelled as she pointed her blade between the twin devils. "I'm here to put an end to the use of Forbidden Magic!"

"Tough luck, lady. You're in the circle so you're the one in this binding ritual with us," Nacht stated while looking down his nose at Josele.

"Can't you just go away?" Josele inquired, glaring at the two.

"Unfortunately, we're not sure how it works," Morgen answered. He walked around Josele, keeping his distance, to get to the manacles on the dais floor. "However, I can tell you that I sense a link between myself and one of these bracelets." He tossed one to Nacht. "You feel it too, right brother?"

Nacht caught the item and examined it. "I sure can.”

Josele lunged for the manacle only for Nacht to hold it out of reach. "Give it here! If I destroy it, that should send you back where you belong!"

"Don't do it!" Josele looked over to where her teammates - Yami, William, and Marx for this mission - were fighting the remaining cultists. Marx was the one to have shouted. "Those relics are imbued with magic from the Underworld. Destroying them will likely unleash that energy onto you and who knows what will happen!"

Josele bristled. What are we left with? Fighting them. But they have far too much mana, even one of them would be a challenge for four of us. Josele looked between the devil's faces and the relics in their hands.

They observed her too. Morgen watched with wide eyes, a faint smile on his face. Nacht's grin was more apparent, a challenge to her.

The only other thing I can think of... That would ensure all of us survive for now at least...

"Fine." Josele put her sword away. "If it's a deal you want, it's a deal you'll get!"

Though it seemed impossible, Nacht's grin widened even more. "Oh this'll be fun. Can't wait to see where this goes."

"Excellent choice!" Morgen exclaimed, rushing over to Josele's side. "Hear that, Nacht, looks like we've got a human friend!"

As the devils flanked her, they slipped the bracelets onto her wrists.

The yells of Josele's allies were drowned out by the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. She stared at her hands. Now that she wore them, the bracelets looked more like shackles. Nacht and Morgen each held one of her hands and knelt in front of her. It was an imitation of subservience.

"Do keep me entertained, alright human?" Nacht squeezed Josele's hand so hard she worried that he might break it. However, he held back. Possibly only for now.

"I guess from now on, we'll be calling you 'Master,'" Morgen said gently. He seemed not nice but reasonable at least. Maybe he would keep Nacht in check.

Josele couldn't know for sure. She just hoped this wouldn't turn out to be the worst mistake of her life.

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

i. Demon | Asmodeus

Request:  Hi! I was wondering if maybe you could write Asmo angst where he basically tells the reader they're not pretty so he can try to feel better about himself. Thanks love :)

Word Count: 1052 words

Page Count: 3 pages

A.N.  Hope you guys like this! I saw the july event where everyday is something Obey Me related so... heres Demon! I worked it into the request! Heres the angst! Tomorrow we get angel so... be prepared!

        "I mean, just look at you, I pity any man, angel, or demon that wishes to be with you."

        "Stop it. Asmo, I'm serious."

        "You aren't denying anything, [ Y/n ]." His voice was amused at his own antics, the taunting melody made your temper rise, eyes watching your unresponsive form. He was starting to get irked, watching you huff as you curled deeper into the window seat, going back to scrolling through your DDD.

        He needed to feel in control again, that he held his charm over someone- anyone, even if it meant tormenting you. His facade is slipping, his nails are shifting into long claws dipped in lime and shell, sharp and needing fangs nipped at his soft lips. He just needed you to feel bad, to cry, hell- yell at him and storm out! Just make him feel like he won, and that you feel below him, even for a moment.

        It's slipping, his sanity, his ego. The Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust, a Lord of Hell. Those who turn their desires to him would go to his own layer of torture and damnation. But, it's slipping. He's showing the glimpses of Aeshma, the Jewel. An agent of Raphael. 

        No.

        Not anymore, he was a darkened, twisted form of him. Wings devoid of feathers and the muscle was torn, now just bone and thick leathery skin, his nimbus was broken and sprouted out his skull as two long and rigid horns. A failure of heaven, who lost the war, lost his sister, lost his title that was full of love and admiration.

        Now he only had lust. The flesh. And flesh is temporary, but the soul stays.

        Your flesh would age and leave, your soul moving on to the light, the admiration he no longer held.

        And he didn't want to face it. 

        He was no longer him.

        He was Asmodeus.

        "I don't need to justify anything to you." You mumbled, not wanting to hear his taunts any longer, knowing it only came from a place of insecurity. You just didn't know how deep it ran. But, you were going to find it soon, clawing at you for attention and scaring you in the process.

        "Exactly! Because you're nothing! Not to me! Not to any of us!" He started to lose it, claws digging his soft palms, his demon form appearing, but something wasn't right, it was still forming itself into something more monstrous. Small slits were forming around his eyes, mimicking the appearance of eyes starting to form, maybe six or eight if them? His jaw seemed larger, larger than your wide eyes as you stared in horror, his mouth was twice as large as before. His exposed skin looked a light shade of pink, and it looked like it was becoming harder and more pigmented, like bone flushing deeply.

        "A-Asmo. Stop!" You yelled, slipping from the seat slowly, standing with your arms out, but still close. You were hunched over slightly, knees and arms bent, ready to run from the thing in front of you. 

        "You think that was a smart thing to say?" He growled, his voice deeper and more wretched with anger and horror, it sounded like the screams of his victims were merged with him. Like every person he damned, every person he held and touched, had lost a piece of himself because he stole it. Your pact mark on your hip became a violent rose, searing it's emotion into your skin, making you grab it and cry out lightly.

        Your own mark pleaded in ivory, his chest slowing the only glowing mark, trying to get him to calm down. He felt your fear, your terror directed at him, and he loathed it. He loathed it, and yet, here he was drawing out more of it. The darkness he held flourished in him, feeding off of you, but the sorrow- oh that got to him.

        The sorrow that he lashed out at you, the sorrow of his words clawing at you, the sorrow of him hurting you. It was powerful enough to stop him in his slow and short steps towards you. He looked for a second, and realized he was circling you, hunting you. The tears in your eyes were silent as they fell, your breaths were deep and trying to calm you, you moved with him. As he circled you, you moved to the door, trying not to get him to lash out at you.

        "[ Y/n ]..." His voice was as soft as he could allow in this form, it was like a low and growling rumble, it sounded warning and dangerous. He saw your eyes widen, and felt your heart drop, and he never wanted more than to just hurl himself at you. He was regretting everything, he really was, he pushed too far and lost his temper. He just wanted to drop it and cry, but it would make things worse, if he moved any closer.

        But, you were you, you understood him and his brothers. They lost their tempers often, so maybe... if he took a small step...

        "Asmodeus! Leave me alone!" You yelled, using your pact, and starting to move a bit faster towards the door. His feet locked in place, all eight eyes looked broken and hurt, his arms hung at his side.

        "[ Y/n ]- please-" He tried to get out, wanting to fix this, voice slowly changing into its normal tone, but it still showed his darkness that was thriving from your fear.

        "Asmodeus, leave! Go to Solomon! Go somewhere where I'm safe from you! Leave now!" 

        And with that, in a misty smoke that was ebony in color with flashes of rose, and the small silver of white, he was gone. Your pact mark was still glowing, but it was dull, and scared. Dropping to your knees, you placed a hand on your hip, and focused on closing it- placing a barrier between you and the demon.

        "Please... don't come back for me. I can't have you anymore."

        There was no love, just an empty plea, lost in the mind of lust and entropy.

[danieyells]

Piggybacking off the 'diavolo fell for lucifer at first sight--and then he saw his face now he's a believer and not a trace of doubt in his mind he's in love ooooh he's a believer he couldn't leave him if he tried" that I wrote earlier. . . .

Diavolo, in the few times he met Lucifer before The Fall, was pretty much all over him. His attraction was clear. He didn't hide it for a second because demon lords aren't raised with shame.

Diavolo hung on his every word, never took his eyes off him, always seemed to want to touch him but kept his hands off. Seemed intimidated but drawn in. He hardly left Lucifer's side until it was time for him to leave, always talked to him, engaged him, asked him questions.

Never shut up about how beautiful he was. Would willingly suffer the light of heaven radiating off of his wings and halo just to have eyes on him.

Lucifer knew and saw all of this. The desire in his eyes.

And it made him quite anxious when it came time to plead for Lilith's life. When he agreed in exchange for loyalty. He was sure that they could smell the ulterior motives far up in the Celestial Realm. He could only imagine what Diavolo had in mind for him, the angel he'd wanted for thousands of years at his mercy. No, he couldn't. He couldn't imagine what sins the son of the Demon King could want to commit with the disgraced pride of the Celestial Realm.

But he didn't care what happened to him as long as she didn't die. He swore his loyalty eternal and sold his soul to the next devil. Lucifer, he who was once the pride of the heavens, was now the devil's plaything to do with as he pleased. And he would hold up his end of the bargain. His Pride--and more than that, his love for Lilith--wouldn't allow him to defy his own words.

He knew Diavolo wanted him. And he could only imagine anxiously what was in store for him as he and his brothers got settled and learned to live as demons.

When he was first called to see Diavolo privately, it was to his room. Of course it was. He was a little anxious about what was coming, but not afraid. He didn't flinch when Diavolo sat him down on his bed. He didn't flinch when he sat next to him or touched his face, admired him with quiet reverence and slightly clawed fingers.

"You're awfully calm." Diavolo remarked in amusement, and Lucifer still stayed unflinching as he ran his hands down his back, didn't even flinch when he paused at the stubs of what was once a pair of wings, torn from his back before he was banished.

"I gave you my loyalty, Lord Diavolo." He said evenly, feathers not ruffling at his touch. "I am an ange--a demon of my word. I am yours to command as you please."

He stayed calm at the amused but pleased laughter in his ear. "Good boy. I'm glad you understand our arrangement so well."

Diavolo caressed the little black jewel on Lucifer's forehead that was once one of many additional eyes of a seraphim, and he remained still, eyes shut rather than averted at the proximity of the Demon Prince's large hands near his face. He stayed still at the fingers through his hair, against his scalp, feeling surprisingly pleasant--

Until the bases of his horns were brushed, and finally he jerked, clenched his teeth, tensed his hands in his lap. Quickly he hissed, "sorry, I--"

"Still tender?" Diavolo asked gently, sympathetically? Lucifer shivered in discomfort at first when he began massaging the place where they grew out of his skull, and nodded, suppressing the movements as the touch began to feel less painful and more soothing. "Aah. Understandable. They are brand new, after all."

Lucifer knew the gentleness couldn't last as Diavolo's hand traced up the horn closest to him, the sensation again making him resist shivering. A small amount of pressure had him ducking his head to avoid greater pain, and he once again shut his eyes when Diavolo moved his hand to the back of his head.

And then flinched again when he felt Diavolo's tongue against the base of his horn, surprisingly soothing in its warmth and softness--and reducing the pain in the proccess.

He remained still as Diavolo. . .groomed him, he supposed, and couldn't restrain a small chirp of relief at the subsiding pain(though he was quick to quiet himself when he felt the vibration of Diavolo's chuckling through his horn--the new, more animalistic aspects of demonhood were taking getting used to and that included instinctive sounds of that sort.) When he seemed to be done, Diavolo began to nuzzle his hair instead, rubbing up and down his neck and upper back in a sort of hug, releasing a contented sigh. "Better now?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Lord Diavolo."

"You can just call me Diavolo, you know." He played with some of his feathers idly, affectionately.

"I appreciate it, but I'd rather things stay as professional as possible between us. I serve you. We aren't friends."

"But we could be friends!" Diavolo insisted, raising from the fallen, hands once again holding Lucifer's face, lifting it to lock eyes with him. "I want to be close to you, my angel. My Morning Star."

Lucifer didn't know how to respond, silently keeping eyes locked with him. He felt his face warming up, and he was certain Diavolo could feel it under his large palms. The look on his face was severe, as if trying to impart his desire into him. As if he worried his words and aura weren't sufficient enough. As if his will as the ruler of demons couldn't reach him through presence alone.

"I understand." He finally said.

"It's soon. I know." Diavolo nodded, thumbs caressing Lucifer's cheekbones. "Let's get to know one another. And we'll become close friends, I'm sure.

"Will you lie with me, Lucifer?"

There it was. He didn't expect this to draw out so much. He certainly didn't have to--he knew perfectly well that Lucifer was at his command.

"As you wish, Lord Diavolo."

. . .As it went, if Diavolo had any ulterior motives, he was too excited to carry them out. Lucifer spent that night in Diavolo's bed, wondering as he dozed off, what the future held as the Demon Prince slept with his wings around him and snuggled into Lucifer's feathers.

The next time he was called, he sat before him in silence. Diavolo simply observed him, staring. He sat and sat quietly before asking,

"Is there something you wanted to see me for, Lord Diavolo?"

"Oh, yes! Or, no?" He laughed, beaming.

"I just wanted to see you! I'm just looking! That's all."

Lucifer was shocked and unamused--this was a beyond-Elite demon. Demonic royalty. He had things to do, didn't he?

After suggesting somewhat rudely that he might have work to complete, he found himself conversing with him. And every time they talked more and more. About how he was adjusting. About his brothers. About the Demon King. About other demons. About RAD, the human world, Diavolo's dreams, Lucifer's dreams. . . .

He didn't want to be his friend. He did his best to keep him at arm's length. Unfortunately for him Diavolo had longer, stronger arms and liked to hug.

He didn't mind as much as he acted.

Over time, he began to realize that, while he certainly had something to fear, Diavolo had no ill intentions towards him--as long as he was obedient, which he was, unquestioningly. He even began to enjoy his company. Diavolo called him his friend, someone he trusted, he became his right hand. . . .

His family gained power and influence, both from the position that Lucifer held and Diavolo's father's recognition of their powers and strength.

Lucifer will always call himself Diavolo's underling, will always try and keep things professional between them. . .but he won't make a fuss when he fails. He's happy in his company.

And like Simeon said when he came to visit, he's actually quite relaxed and comfortable here, despite his insistence on submission. He and Diavolo are close. He belongs to him. But he has so much of the freedom and control and power he fought for in the Celestial Realm. And even Diavolo questions his extreme loyalty and priorities--clearly cares for him as a person with rights and choices and freedoms.

He didn't expect to, but he's found his place and his people. And he's happy with them.

(and he's happy with Diavolo, no matter how much he blushes and begs him to stop. Inside he's smiling and happy that he's so loved.)

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Cast in a Chasm

Sequel to this fic

Word count: 3895

———————

Aragon dreamt of blood and crying and broken eggs. Her eyes eventually snapping open was both a relief and a thrill because she was out of that terror, but also because the human was awake. It— SHE was huddled in between her front talons and staring at her with wide, glossy eyes- poor scaleless thing didn’t even have second eyelids to see clearly in the water! How were they not extinct yet?

“Hello there,” Aragon said, nudging Orca in the chest with her snout.

Orca made a pitiful noise of fright and then jolted away. Aragon jumped to her feet immediately.

“Wait!”

She pounced, managing to trap Orca under her front talons. The human yelps, its yellow fur billowing around its head.

“No running.” Aragon said sternly, as if she were talking to a pet tortoise she’s once seen a Leviathan have. “Bad.”

Orca blinked up at her.

Humans must not be able to understand Leviathans, but that made sense. Aragon wasn’t sure how she was going to communicate with Orca.

She took a small step back and Orca flailed awkwardly as she began to float. Her limbs didn’t move in the right way to swim at all! Funny little thing.

Aragon looked around her room as Orca continued to drift upwards. She found a long rope of gelatin hanging from one of the hooks and picked it up. She tied it tightly around her chest and then handed the other end to Orca, who blinked at her. She points at the knot she tied and Orca seemed to understand after a moment because she began tying her piece around her chest.

“Good girl!” Aragon said, patting Orca’s head. Pride swelled within her. Her human was so smart!

Orca blinked at her curiously again. She pulled herself down the length of the rope and then stopped a few feet away when she got close enough to Aragon, anxious. Aragon held out one talon and, after a moment of hesitation, she latched onto it.

“My name is Aragon of the Seahorses,” Aragon said.

“Seahorses,” The human repeated.

Aragon perked up. “You understand me!”

“Smeeg smog smockeefee,” Orca chattered.

“Well, I’m not sure what ‘smockeefee’ means, but I’ll keep note of that.” Aragon said. She tilted her head at the human in her talon. “So you don’t speak Levia?”

“Mrrrrowrr,” Orca said, along with several other chittering noises.

“Definitely not.” Aragon reached up and set Orca on her head. “Stay up here, okay?” She can feel Orca’s tiny paws grasp tightly to her horns. She paddled over to the terrace and got a grand view of the kingdom below her tower, which was glowing in brilliant shades of blue and green and purple and pink. The hatching ceremony was already being set up, although Aragon wasn’t surprised. That was very in character for Seymour, who always wanted to be on top of things.

Orca yelped and gripped her horn tighter when she suddenly plunged off of the balcony and began gliding down to the city. She cants her wings and spiraled around the grand crystal palace until she reached the front gateway. Seymour wasn’t at her throne when she peeked in, but she did see Howard sitting beside it, for once not glued to the queen’s side.

“Where is Seymour?” Aragon asked the pup.

“In the royal hatchery,” Howard answered. “She doesn’t want anyone bothering her right now.”

Aragon looked her up and down. She wondered if Howard was jealous at all, since she was just a ward, not the queen’s actual daughter. Or maybe she was excited to get a little sibling- she couldn’t tell.

Howard fiddled with her tail before looking up. Her rose pink eyes widened.

“Is that the human?” She said.

Aragon reached up one talon to her head and felt Orca pat a claw with one of her tiny paws. She was still there.

“It is,” Aragon said. “Her name is Orca.”

“Oooo,” Howard murmured in awe. “That’s a pretty name!”

Aragon smiled proudly and was actually about to offer Howard a chance to hold the human, but then she heard a voice call out to her.

“SEAHORSE!!”

“Not again...”

Boleyn swam up to her in a whoosh, causing the water around them to spiral and twist wildly before simmering back into calmness. Cleves came with her, this time, but she crossed over in much more gentle strokes, making sure her tentacles didn’t hit any of the ancient architecture in the throne room.

“It appears you have a little monster tied to you,” Cleves observed, eyeing the harness connecting Aragon to Orca.

“It keeps her from drifting off,” Aragon informed. “This is Orca.”

“Hi, Orca!” Boleyn hovered over Aragon, waving to the human, who blinked up at her with big grey eyes before slowly raising a paw to wave back. “She’s so cute!”

“Isn’t she?” Aragon smiled, that feeling of pride swelling within her once again.

“Are you going to bring her to the celebration tonight?” Cleves asked.

“Of course.” Aragon replied. “I can’t leave her anywhere else.”

“Beemish rrrpl zob!” Orca announced.

“Oh! Oh.” Cleves tilted her head. “She doesn’t speak Levia. Why am I surprised?”

“What is a ‘beemish’?” Boleyn wondered out loud.

“No clue,” Aragon admitted. “But I’m sure I’ll learn eventually. Or she’ll learn Levia.” She looked around again, despite knowing she wouldn’t see Seymour. “Well. I’ve got to go get ready. An advisor has to look nice for this.”

Boleyn and Cleves waved as she swam through one of the branching hallways and went back up to her tower. She united herself from Orca for the time being and let the human hang onto a shelf of antique decorations.

“There’s a party today,” Aragon told her. “For the queen’s pup. They’re hatching.”

Orca blinked at her, then squinted her grey eyes. Aragon remembered that she probably couldn’t see clearly at all. It must have been uncomfortable.

Aragon looked around, then paddled over to one of her chests. She dug through it until she found a small block of sea glass. She pulled it out and heated it up at the stream of warm bubbles shooting out of the floor in one of the corners until it was soft enough to carve away with her claws. Orca watched her curiously as she formed the glass into a spectacle-like shape with closed sides that wouldn’t let water pour in. She softened the edges with clumps of algae and then strung a piece of stretchy kelp through either side. When she was finished, she handed the goggles to Orca, who turned them over curiously and then put them on. She gawked at Aragon through the glass eyes, seeing her clearly for the first time.

“Hello,” Aragon grinned. “Are they okay?” She points to the goggles and Orca nodded.

After she had her human seeing properly, she swung around to a tree carved from dark brown mahogany, which was where she kept all her jewelry. She brushed through the strands of jewels, picking up a few to hold to her scales and see which went best with her burnished color scheme. It was always hard to tell- did she want blues and greens to try and match the other Leviathans or did she want to go with warmer shades like oranges and reds?

She feels a small touch on her shoulder- Orca has swam over to her and pulls herself in front of her. She clung to one of the tree branches and squinted through the goggles at the string of rubies in Aragon’s left talon. She shook her head disapprovingly.

“No?”

“Eeemego noomobleck rubieooo,” Orca lectured her.

Aragon blinked. Orca sprung off of the branch and snatched the rubies from Aragon’s talon. She sank almost instantly, finding the jewels much heavier than she had even expecting, but she kicked her little legs and managed to hook it onto a mahogany limb. Then, she clambered up the side of the tree, observing the jewelry thoroughly before heaving off a moonstone necklace. She made a series of loud squeaks and pointed at Aragon’s right talon until she held it up. She brought the black gemstones to the golden scales, analyzed the color mix, then nodded. She set the necklace on Aragon’s talon.

“You’re good at this, huh?” Aragon smiled, winding the moonstones around her neck.

“Good?” Orca echoed in Levia. Aragon must have said it enough in the short span of time she’s been awake to have caught on on what it meant.

“Yes! Good!” Aragon said excitedly. She ruffled the fur on Orca’s head affectionately. “So smart!”

“Good,” Orca repeated proudly. She lugged a strand of emeralds into Aragon’s talon, pointed at it, and said, “Good. Noo gobbish!”

“Well, good thing I wasn’t planning on being a gobbish.” Aragon said. “Whatever that is.” She put on the shimmering green gemstones. As she does so, Orca swam to the very top of the tree, where necklaces turned to armbands and tailbands and earrings and other fancy jewelry she got because of her advisor status. She seemed to be momentarily dazzled by all the accessories before getting back on track and grabbing some matching emerald earrings, which she’s actually able to pick up easily.

“As you wish,” Aragon said as she clipped them on. “Anything else?” She gestured to the tree so Orca would know what she meant. But Orca shook her head and swam over to her shoulder to hang onto. “Very well.”

Aragon waded over to the mirror and pivoted around slowly a few times before nodding. The black and green really did highlight her golden scales.

“Good job, Orca,” Aragon praised the human. She was about to take off down to the courtyard to meet up with Cleves and Boleyn, but then she was stopped by a smaller strand of moonstones hanging on a thin branch of her jewelry tree. It was too small for an adult Leviathan, but it would fit Orca, so she plucked it up and gently wove it around her neck and shoulders.

“Perfect.” She smiled.

“Hubblesnubble.” Orca agreed.

Aragon laughed, quickly tied Orca to her again, and then set off to the ceremony.

—

The city was glowing in dazzling hues of purple and pink, green and blue, yellow and orange. The light from the bioluminescent paste and fire trapped in sea glass orbs gleamed against the crystal buildings and domes, setting them off in radiants of rainbow. Aragon hoped all the light wouldn’t blind Orca.

After sweeping past the band of Leviathans playing the queen’s favorite instruments, she found Cleves and Boleyn at a buffet table loaded with fried lobster and minced tuna and pickled shark, chatting away. Cleves was simply wearing some silver wires that wound around her thick, but short horns and circled her forehead and dark topaz wristbands, while Boleyn had strands of pearls hanging from her neck and a winding tailband on the top of her tail that was designed to look like a snake.

“There she is!” Boleyn cried when Aragon lands before them. “And you brought Orca! Hi, Orca!”

“Yeemo!” Orca waved from where she was situated on Aragon’s head.

“Haha! Yeemo to you, too!” Boleyn said enthusiastically.

“So,” Cleves began, rising out of her sitting position, which always looked so odd because of her tentacles. “What first?”

After a moment of consideration, the three of them (well, four, because Orca gave a helpful, “Zim!” in the process) decided to just swim through the festivities and see what they could find to entertain them until the hatching ceremony.

They sailed past grand glass statues and pups playing with each other and Leviathans dancing aquatic dances until they came to a quiet game pavilion. It was dressed up in fire-lit beads of amethyst and lime and azure and gold, which were braided across the underwater oceanic trees. Swathes of specially-sewn aquatic silk curtains billowed around the outside of the area, shielding it from the cold ocean currents and muffling the noise from the rest of the festival. And there, an elegantly long, but short Leviathan sat alone.

Her scales were a deep indigo color so dark they almost looked black, but there were a few markings that faded to purple in some areas. She had a prehensile tail that she was using to hang onto a piece of coral and four strange segmented wings, almost like a dragonfly. She was playing a game by herself that involved small marble pieces into increasingly complex towers. As far as lame solitary party games went, it was kind of at the top, frankly.

“Heeeey, Nautilus!”

Ice blue eyes, a bright contrast to her dark scales, glanced up at the ground as they landed. A scowl formed on her snout.

“I told you not to call me that,” Blount of the Nautiluses grumbled. “What do you want? And what is THAT?” She peered up at Orca.

“You looked lonely,” Cleves said.

“And this is Orca,” Aragon added.

“A human. Down here.” Blount said. “Wow.” She tipped her head back down to her game, but glanced up momentarily when Orca swam down from Aragon’s head. “Don’t let that thing anywhere near me.”

“Awww, don’t be like that!” Boleyn said. “She won’t hurt you!”

“I beg to differ,” Blount growled, climbing further up the piece of coral to create a distance between her and the human. “Is it your pet or something?”

“Sorta?” Aragon said, watching Orca pull herself onto one of the branches of coral, much to Blount’s dismay. “Orca, this is Blount.” Then, to Blount, “Be nice.”

Blount grumbled something and tried to resume her game. Aragon had no idea how she could always be so angry all the time. It must get exhausting.

“Oh! Oh!” Boleyn suddenly perked up. “Let’s go to the shipwreck!”

“That’s a good idea,” Aragon mused. “Orca can get air there. I’ll also have to give her a new scale.”

And so, it was settled. The four of them, including Blount because she got dragged along, swam off to the large shipwreck on the outskirts of the city.

It was a cargo ship, the break bulk kind, now submerged in the loose sand of a large, empty plateau at the bottom of a cliff face. Strangely, it had air pockets in various areas, which they weaved their way to after entering through a large gash in the metal exterior.

The area they popped their heads into opens out to a large, gently sloped storage room, illuminated by coral. There’s an open central room, with support beams forming shelves on either side. Toward the back, the floor and the shelves extend out into an air pocket. The whole floor here has been covered with a layer of rocks and sand over time.

Orca looks at the dry area with longing. Aragon unties her and she immediately begins to climb the slope eagerly. After a moment, however, she falls to the ground coughing, gasping, spitting out water. The sounds echo against the metallic hull and makes Aragon jolt in fear. She leapt out of the water, her wings slapping frantically against the surface, and thumped down onto the incline. The entire ship rocks and creaks with the sudden force.

“You bumbling whale!” Blount hissed. “Do you want this thing to come down on us?”

“Why is she doing that?” Aragon said in fright, ignoring Blount. Her talons hover Orca’s writhing form helplessly. “Is she okay?”

“She’s expelling the water she breathed in,” Cleves said, swimming over to the shallow area. “It’s normal. Don’t worry.”

At the same time, Orca gave Aragon a weak thumbs up and then returned coughing.

“Oh.” Aragon said in relief. “Thank the whales...”

It takes her a moment, but Orca is eventually back on her feet and has taken to energetically romping about the sand and gravel. When some of it drifts into her nose, she sneezes hard enough to knock herself backwards. She gave Aragon an indignant look.

“Well, stop putting sand in your nose, then.” Aragon suggested.

“Urrmgle,” Orca said before getting distracted by an adventurous crab and following after it until it disappears into a hole much too small for even her. She turns away, disappointed, but perks up quickly. “Blnnnt!!!”

The Leviathans blink at her weird squeaky exclamation, then Boleyn swung her head around to Blount.

“I think that means you.” She said.

“Awww,” Aragon cooed. “She knows your name!” She held out a talon and Orca rushed under it, nuzzling against her warm scales. “So smart!”

“How did THAT happen?” Blount exclaimed. She lashed her tail, splashing Cleves, who was settled in the shallows with her.

“I think it’s cute,” Cleves said helpfully.

“Why me?” Blount said woefully. “I don’t even like it!”

“Her.” Aragon corrected.

“Whatever.”

Blount bundled her four wings in close to herself as Orca steps into the water when she notices some small fish swimming around. She held still for a moment, jumped forward, and missed.

She whirled around, looking very confused and startled. Then, she tried again, missing even more than the first time. On the third try, she hauled her clumsy body all the way underwater and still managed to catch only sand.

Amused laughter swells through the group at the human’s attempts at catching a fish. It earns them an adorably annoyed look.

“Smurggle furgle,” Orca growled.

Eventually, Orca does manage to catch a fish, but it slips right through her claws. That couldn’t be fair!

“They’re slippery!” Aragon called from the bay.

Orca readied herself and dove again. She overestimated her speed and smashed her face directly into the sand below. She resurfaced with a sputter and then attacked again, snatching up a daring fish who got too close. Victory was short lived. The tail slapped her in the face and she dropped it. She makes a miserable noise and gives up, returning to the slope.

“We should get going,” Blount said, finally uncoiling herself. She stretched out her strange wings. “The egg will probably hatch soon.”

They all agreed. Aragon quickly gave Orca another scale to put in her mouth, and then they all set back off to the glowing city.

—

It was a boy.

The purple snout came out first, then the webbed talons, and finally the strange, butterfly-like wings opened and broke the rest of the egg. He tumbled out into the water, his gills flaring open instantly, and the audience of Leviathans gaped at how beautiful he was.

His scales are a clash of gem-like azure and shiny violet. His four wings, much too big for his tiny body, are shimmering purple and blue, as if they were sapphires and amethysts mixed together. Elegant magenta and lavender horns with royal purple tips and highlights rise from his head, and cobalt whiskers billow around his purple snout. His tail is shaped into a dolphin’s, just like his mother’s, who scoops him up into her talons.

Eddie of the Porpoises is the name that was declared. A string of pearls is laced around his long neck. He immediately put a few orbs into his mouth and made an adorable pup noise.

It absolutely sickens Aragon.

She left the ceremony without a word. Her wings beat furiously through the night tide as she tried to distance herself from all the joy and happiness and unfairness. Her mind kept replaying scenes over and over again— blood, eggshells, coldness against her palms. It all repeated nonstop.

Orca is chattering loudly on her head. She tugs at her horns and Aragon growled low in her throat. All the noise definitely isn’t helping her mounting anger. She doesn’t get a chance to snap at the human, though, because the chain net she swam right into quickly became her top priority.

Immediately, she began to struggle, but that just managed to ensnare her further. She growled in anger, lashing her tail and beating her wings furiously to no avail. The net began to rise up- she broke the surface.

It’s a ship. Smaller than the shipwreck, but definitely big, and it was filled with several chattering humans. They point to her and holler to one another in shock. She bared her teeth at them.

Arms reach down. Orca squeals. The gelatin rope connecting them is cut. Aragon roared when she realized they were taking her away.

Then, pain.

Blinding pain.

Blood burbles up Aragon’s throat. Her gills have been cut.

The pain consumed her as she began to choke.

Eggshells, fragments—

The net releases her. She began to sink. The boat speeds off as fast as it can.

Eggshells, twisted bone, tears—

Aragon sinks.

Twisted bone, bits and pieces, nothing left—

Above her, she can see the shimmering full moon high over the surface. She reaches her webbed talons up towards it. Red and black clouds of blood billow around her.

Nothing left to mourn—

She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, she thought she could see her pups staring back down at her from the endless starry sky stretched over the ocean. Sassy Siren, little Starfish, mama’s girl Sandbar, rambunctious Undertow, bookworm Pearl, and Turtle, the king of giggles.

Eggshells, blood, the limp body of pup in one talon, the broken neck of another in the other—

They were taken from her.

And now, her one last chance at motherhood was being ripped from her again.

Aragon clenched her claws.

Blood, eggshells, her poor, helpless, dead—

No.

Not again.

Aragon took a deep breath, the water stinging in her ripped gills, then slammed her wings downward. She jetted upwards in a flurry of crimson bubbles, swimming faster and faster until she breaches the surface with a tremendous, earth-shaking roar.

The ship didn’t get far. And it was no match for a furious mother Leviathan.

Aragon crashes into the side of it with all her might. It rocks, and some humans go flying off of it, but she can hardly care. She climbs up onto the deck, screeching in anger. She swung her tail around, knocking off two more sailors, then gouged her claws into one that held a pathetic excuse for a weapon. He squirms beneath her huge talon while she snaps her jaws down on a second attacker. He struggles, too, but then she bites down and devours him whole.

Humans taste awful. Much too fatty and oily.

Aragon spots Orca with what must be the captain, or at least someone important. He has her by the necklace, choking her, and was glaring at Aragon. He yells something, but she wouldn’t care even if she could understand. He was no match for her.

Aragon sprang forward, crushing a human male into a puddle of bones and blood and organs, and closed her razor sharp teeth around the man seizing Orca. She grinds her fangs until the bottom half sticking out falls off, then swallowed the rest.

The boat begins to break, so Aragon takes Orca and flees. The water soothes her gills as she swam back to her tower and unceremoniously tumbled inside, laying on the smooth floor in a puddle of scaly limbs. Orca had been jarred free from her grasp when she fell, and she clung to one of her talons to keep from floating away. Then, she leaned forward and bumped her nose with Aragon’s.

It was as if she were saying, “I’m safe now. Safe with you.”

[the-gedonelune-times]

Chapter Ten: The Queen Awakens

Summary: Gedonelune, the prestigious royal magic academy is waiting just for you! The door has opened a whole new world of possibilities for your future. For the next thirteen days you’ll be undergoing the provisional trial to see if you have what it takes to become an official student. Along the way you’ll be meeting new faces and going on exciting new adventures. But be warned, shadows are being cast on the land, if you dive to deep, you may find yourself being swallowed up by the chaos. Your journey begins now, will you be able to banish the darkness?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

“This was a battle I never wanted to take part in.” Fenrir’s voice was softer than it was just a little while ago. “I’m sorry. Maybe if you survive, I’ll be able to tell you more, until then, good luck.”

Fenrir looked over his shoulder, smiling sadly before disappearing in a puff of miasma. Meanwhile, the chimera that he had summoned gave out a hearty roar while its claws scratched against the ground as it took its battle stance. 

“Alright so let’s think about this, we’re trapped in ancient Ark with no way out because of this chimera. Not only that but neither of us has magic or a means of protecting ourselves. This is bad, really bad…” I gave a semi hopeless sigh.

“No, I refuse to give up and I refuse to let you give up too. Remember what you told me before we got on the train? You told me that everything would turn out right in the end, as long as we do it together, this time is no different!” Lily looked at me with serious eyes and balled fists. “I have a plan, but I need you to trust me, okay?” 

“Okay. What’s the plan?”

“I need you to distract the chimera for me.”

Was she serious?! I had no magic, surely she wasn’t serious in making me run around as bait for the thing...was she?

“I can see it in your eyes that you’re having doubts, but please trust me on this. I’ll protect you with everything I have, okay?”

I sighed, knowing full well that we were already low on options and in this situation right now, it was a take it or leave it type of thing. I let out a deep breath as I steeled myself for what I was about to do next. I cleared my mind and took off running with all my might, shouting at the chimera to get its attention. It worked, but it scared the absolute daylights out of me to know that this massive beast was chasing after me.

 It only got worse when it began to send magical attacks my way and although I had managed to evade them up until now, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace forever. Where was Lily? What was her plan? While on the move, I had tried my best to spot her, but to no avail, at some point, I must have become to distracted because I ended up tripping over one of the objects in the room; the foot of one of the stone golems. 

The beast inched closer and closer and I, in turn, scooted back farther and farther away until my back had hit a wall. There was nowhere for me to run to or hide at this point, was this really how everything was going to end?

“Stay away from them! Hraaah!” 

I heard a voice scream followed by an object coming into contact with the chimera, making it cry out in pain. When I saw what had happened, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Lily?!”

Lily was standing just a mere few feet away from the chimera, a large stone sword, which she had somehow managed to steal from one of the golems, rested in her hands. The chimera shook its body as it wicked itself up before charging right at Lily. She was nimble on her feet as she blocked and evaded every attack with ease. It was clear that she wished no harm to the chimera, thus she avoided hitting it like she had the first time. But I knew what would happen if she didn’t attack…. 

“Lily, you need to attack!”

“I-I can’t!” She shouted as she dodged another magic attack. 

“Why not?” I screamed back while moving to keep an eye on her.

“I can’t bring myself to hurt creatures, especially ones that are clearly in distress!”

Distress? Yes, I suppose the chimera was in a bit of distress. I had noticed the way it moved around and attacked us; it clearly didn’t want to, but had no other choice but to do so. 

“Do you think it’s the darkness?”

“You could be hah! Right!”

I was about to say something else when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. The chimera that had been fixated on Lily had now turned its attention back to me. I was completely unarmed and I knew I didn’t have enough stamina to keep running as I had been before. Despite that, I knew I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing, I had to run, even if it drained every last ounce of my energy.

It was still surprising that a beast that big was able to run as fast as it was. I could hear Lily’s cries and shouts as she was desperately trying to divert its attention away from me. Her efforts were in vain as the beast let out a roar before hitting me right in the back with one of their magic attacks. I fell to the ground in excruciating pain. Blood was spilling to the ground and I lay there, unable to do anything. I could hear the beast get ready to unleash another one, a final blow but winced when I heard it let out an ear-splitting cry. 

It fell to the ground with a thud and when I looked over, I could make out Lily standing over its unconscious body. With tears in her eyes, she quickly rushed over to my own body, gently lifting me up to hold me in her arms and keep me awake. It was around that time when a pair of footsteps had entered the scene. They wore a smile as they slowly began clapping their hands together.

“My my, what a performance. I didn’t think you had it in you to actually knock the creature out. But when I felt my magic connection get cut off, I knew something had happened. A shame though, it seems your little friend isn’t going to make it.”

I could feel Lily’s arms tightening around me, almost protectively as she held me closer to her chest. 

“Come now, don’t be so sad. You see, I can help save your friend. All I ask in return is the Seal of Life.”

“Seal...of Life?” I asked with a whispered voice.

“Don’t talk, you’ll overdo yourself.” Lily spoke softly before looking at the one who Fenrir had previously addressed as Adonis. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh? Surely you know about the seals. Your kind were the ones who created them, right? The three seals that were lost to this world, each one containing ancient or forbidden magic. The seal of life, shadows and fates. These three seals were sealed down here in the Ark. So unless you want to keep playing dumb and let your friend die, I suggest you hand over the seal. If you do, then I’ll spare both of you out of the kindness in my heart.”

“I’d never give the seals to you.” Lily hissed. “They were created because of people like you, those who want to use it for evil.”

“Evil? Me? You have it all wrong, I’m doing this to save people. If anything, you’re the real danger here.” Adonis smirked. “A fair maiden born to the dragons of life. You died once long ago but stand before me alive and well. Tell me, how is such a thing possible?”

“I…” 

“Just as I thought, you have no answer to that. But I do.” Adonis began to walk closer to us as he spoke. “The timeline has been warped, things that shouldn’t be possible are beginning to appear in our time. Your awakening is no coincidence. You’re a threat to the timeline, thus, you must die!” 

Adonis had managed to pull out a dagger and rush towards us with inhuman speed. With a swift motion, he lifted it up, right above me before slamming it down. I was prepared to meet my end, but instead found myself in a blindingly bright light that had encased both Lily and I. I watched as Lily’s body trembled as she held me in her arms. Blood was trickling down her wound and this time from her mouth as well. 

“Lily, why?! You’re hurting yourself!” I gave a hoarse cry as I looked at her. 

She let out a giggle as she nuzzled her cheek against me. “I don’t care.” her eyes closed as she continued. “I refuse...to let the one I love...die…” 

Her fingers gently brushed against my cheek as they burned ever so slightly. Lily...loved me. I could feel tears prick my eyes as I kept repeating her words over and over again in my head. She loved me...she really loved me….

I reached one of my hands shakily up to touch her own cheeks and with a strained gasp, I let my own feelings be known. “I love...you too…”

My vision was becoming blurry and I could feel the world around me grow colder with each passing second. Even if this truly is the end...I’m glad that I got to spend my final moments with the one I loved. I closed my eyes with a smile, trying to hide the fact that I was beyond scared.

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

As time continued to tick onward, I felt an odd feeling wash over me. It was like being submerged in a warm summer breeze. I could feel my strength returning and when I opened my eyes, I was greeted to an incredible sight. 

Lily, who had once been holding me, was now hovering slightly off the ground. A pair of white horns grace her head while a pair of beautiful wings as bright as freshly fallen snow flapped behind her. A tail coiled shyly around her leg and her entire outfit had changed into something completely different from something I had ever seen her in before; a sleeveless white dress with a slit in the front. From head to toe, she was adorned with jewels that I could assume were from a time that no longer existed. She looked dazzling….like a queen…

When her eyes opened up, she smiled kindly at me while the light around us began to fade. Adonis was a few feet from where we were, his arm lowering down to his side. 

“No….how! How is this possible! The curse on your back was supposed to seal up every trace of your magic!”

“There’s one magic that you didn’t count on, Adonis!” I shouted out

“Oh? Enlighten me, foolish human.”

“Love.”

I could hear him making a gagging noise before glaring at us. “No, I refuse to believe that such a hideous thing such as love was the cause behind this. No, this must be the work of Zirnitra magic.” Adonis began to laugh. “Perhaps I miscalculated, or perhaps this works well in my favor.”

Adonis turned to face Lily with a sinister smirk. “You’re going to fight me then? Do you have it in you to kill me?”

“Kill you? No, I have no intention to take a human’s life. But if I must fight you, then I will.” Lily spoke calmly ash she raised her hands in front of her.

“Foolish girl. You and I walk the same path, both of us were betrayed and now we suffer for it. Why are you protecting the very things that caused you such grief? They killed you, yet you stand by their side as some kind of protector? What are you trying to prove here, huh? Do you think you’ll be accepted? Do you think people won’t try to betray you again?!”

“Fear is a common emotion where people act out differently when experiencing it. Humans are not like me, they can get hurt easily, they get sick and die a life much shorter than the one I have. Their lives are fragile and yet they continue to live for a better tomorrow. Will humans betray me? Maybe. But I will never put blame on them for something that happened thousands of years ago, I will never blame them for my death!”

“You fucking fool!” 

Adonis screamed out with a cry before sending a flurry of darkness tipped arrows in our direction with just the snap of his fingers. Without saying a word, Lily held out her hand, conjuring a barrier of light that burned the arrows before they could even come close to the barrier. 

“That light... such power, no...no, no, no, NO NO NO!” Adonis clutched his head in pain before stumbling back. His eyes were a bloody red as objects around the room began to lift in the air.

“Wait, is he using…?”

“That explains the darkness I had felt earlier, the man who reeked of darkness. Never did I think that such a thing could be used like this.”

“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you...HAHAHA DIE!” 

Adonis began hurtling all the objects at us at once, while his body became engulfed in a dark miasma. I watched as a shadow began to grow until it was towering over us. As the objects burned in the barrier, Lily and I watched with wide eyes as the miasma began to fade away like smoke, revealing a beast at least thirty feet tall. It was a serpent, covered in armour. It had six hands and in three of them rested a double-bladed staff. He had a pair of black wings that dripped with darkness and behind him was a massive tail.

“There’s no way….”

“What is that thing?!”

Lily looked away, clearly distressed, “That’s Raspatil.”

“Raspatil?”

Lily nodded. “We’ve only heard stories of this beast, never haad we been given a chance to catch of a glimpse of this creature. It had the nickname: the ground breaker as it could shatter the ground with a single attack with its staff.”

“But how? How did it get here? Did Adonis turn into that?!”

“Pitiful beings, your chatter annoys me to no end, it is time I show you the true power of ancient magic.” Raspatil grabbed his blade and held it up before bringing it down on the barrier, smashing it as if it was nothing. 

We barely avoided being hit and was only safe thanks to Lily’s quick reflexes. But we had not time to rest; another attack was being sent our way and this time we weren’t so lucky. The ground had split upwards, hurtling towards us like a rushing wave. Hitting us, or rather, Lily who was using her wings as a shield. Clearly in pain, she gritted her teeth before summoning her strength to push back the slab of stone. She balled one of her hands up into a fist, a golden light forming around it as she punched the stone, sending it flying right back to Raspatil he writhed with pain at a head-on hit. 

The being laughed with delight as it raised its hands gathering magic. “I have no time for dealing with such foolish battles, I’ll end you right here, right now with this single attack. The darkness will taint your soul and swallow you up in the chaos. You will soon know pain...if you survive that is….”

The laugh became more sinister as the whole area was now covered in black clouds that began to swirl around us. There was a small break in the storm of darkness as Raspatil shot off a beam of darkness. Lily summoned another barrier, pulling me closer as she held her hands out in front of her.

“You told me that no matter what happens, we’d do this together. Your words gave me hope and made me believe that everything would turn out right in the end.” Lily looked at me and took my hand which was now enveloped in light; with her magic. “I’ll protect you with everything I have, I won’t let the darkness take you!”

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

Nadia: This is it, the final preview!

Persephone: Way to leave everyone on a cliffhanger.

Nadia: Hey, cheer up a little will ya? We need to do a really good job with this!

Persephone: Fine, fine, whatever.

Nadia: You’ve been with Lily for thirteen days…

Persephone: You’ve gone through a lot during that time.

Nadia: But now the time has come where your fate is chosen.

Persephone: Will the ending be one of light?

Nadia: Or will tears be shed as the darkness takes the life of something or someone precious to you?

Persephone: Your ending awaits…

Both: So go forth and find out!

[athrialuxegna]

A special gift (Supernatural One Shot)

Snowflakes were falling hard. The ground was covered by a thick white blanket which reverberated the lights of the shabby hotel. Sam was staring outside the window, hoping to see his father coming back. His fingers held on tightly to the gift that he had wrapped with Bobby's help. As usual, John was playing hard to get on Christmas Eve.

Sam couldn't remember the last time they shared a proper meal on this special day. Sure, Uncle Bobby made the best burgers and fries, but it didn't match what the other kids had. He felt suddenly jealous. They were unaware, innocent, pure. They could laugh, enjoy every little moment, dream about a bright future, be happy. He couldn't. Not now that he knew what his father was doing all this time. He lied to him for years.

However, some part of him understood why. Dean had to grow up fast. He was looking after him since he was four years old. He admired his brother because he was tough, strong, protective, and brave. Nothing seemed able to deter him. Not even the fact that their father was absent once again.

Dean stole glances from time to time at his younger brother. The tv was playing some ludicrous Christmas movie he had no interest in. Guilt clawed at him whenever he looked at Sam. He had lie to him so many times on John's account. The truth broke something. The questions were what did it broke? And what would come out of it? Deep inside him, Dean knew that he was unable to fix it. He sighed deeply. When did he become so pessimistic?

"You're gonna burn your eyes staring at the snow like this, Sammy." Remarked the older one, an amused smile on his lips.

"Sam" Hissed his brother, his chin resting upon the window sill.

"He will come back, don't worry."

His reassuring voice hid his doubt. Dean always feared a call from Uncle Bobby to announce that his father would never come back. Being a hunter meant death one day or another. Life was unfair for those who fought against evil. The sweet irony made him huff internally. If God existed, he had a debatable sense of humor. The clock rang at midnight.

"You should go to bed." He stated matter-of-factly.

"No." The firm answer took Dean aback.

Silence fell upon the room, embracing the brothers with its chokehold. Dean sighed deeply, sitting up on the sofa to take a proper look at Sam. His vibrant green eyes held an infinite tenderness, hidden under layers of tiredness and resignation. Sam asserted himself more each passing day. He didn't hesitate to argue with John. Their arguments became more heated as he grew older. Thanks to their common stubbornness.

"Don't talk back Sammy. It's already passed curfew."

"For you as well." Fired back the younger one.

Dean was somewhere in between affliction and admiration. His lips pressed in a thin line, he was mad at John for giving him the bad role.

"You have one hour before we both go to bed." Conceded Dean.

A bright smile illuminated his brother's face, reaching his big doe eyes. He stood up and sat next to him. He couldn't miss on the rare occasion. Normally, Dean would stay up for hours, waiting for John or watching cartoons until he fell asleep.

"He'll love it for sure." He said quietly, looking at the gift in Sam's hands.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. He felt terrible to not have any present for his big brother even though he deserved a pile of them to put up with him every day. Uncle Bobby said that the necklace could protect its owner. Out of everyone, Dean was the one he wanted to protect fiercely. Sam wasn't strong enough to do it just yet, but one day that will be the case. He promised himself to always have Dean's back, no matter what.

"Here, take it." Handing him the gift.

"No, I can't. It's for dad, not for me." Countered Dean, somewhat dumbfounded by his brother's choice.

"Merry Christmas, Dean!" Exclaimed Sam, not taking no for an answer.

Dean took the gift carefully, unsure of how to feel about the gesture. Sure he was happy and grateful but some part of him couldn't enjoy it fully. A smile stretched his lips in a wide grin. The necklace wasn't what he had expected. It was a sculpted face that reminded him of some ancient Egyptian representation. Horns protruded from its forehead which was spiraling in a sort of loop. The jewel was oddly warm in his hand. Without any hesitation, Dean attached the necklace around his neck.

"Thank you, Sam." He beamed. "Now, close your eyes."

Sam did what he was told, impatience coursing through his veins. He struggled to keep still, his knees bounced slightly and he held his breath for a second. Dean placed something rather heavy on his lap. He tried to guess what it was but couldn't settle for a satisfying answer. He finally opened his eyes to discover an ancient book. He smelled like oil and dust like Bobby. It was some sort of supernatural dictionary. A way to introduce him to the hunter world.

"Thanks, Dean, that's super cool!" Sam exclaimed joyfully.

For the first time in ages, the Winchester brothers hugged. They held each other for some time. A silent promise to look out for each other.

John was fighting to keep his eyes open. Nightmares of this tragic night came rushing back to him. The flames, the heat, Mary's body on the ceiling. It was torture, but he needed to remember to move on. He felt that he was close to finding the truth. The answers he was seeking were only at arm's reach. That was the finish line. He couldn't stop now.

He sat up properly. The light pierced through the curtains of their room. Culpability restrained his chest painfully. His vengeance made him forget what was important. Dean and Sam. He got out of the car, bag in his hands, and locked it.

Dean's wary glare welcomed him. John glanced at Sam's sleeping form. Slight snores broke the tense silence. He put his bag down and opened the fridge. Empty.

"You forgot to do grocery before living." Dean's sharp voice slapped him.

"I'll go tomorrow." John sighed.

"Sam waited for you. I hope you have a gift to make it up."

Dean didn't wait for a reply and shut the light, back facing his father. He held on tightly to the amulet around his neck.

John spent the night watching over his children. They would understand someday why he acted this way. The question was: would they forgive him in the end?

Hi guys! First of all, I'm French. So if you spot any mistake feel free to point it out so I won't make it next time. Hope you like it!

[captainmeowvelwrites]

You Times Two (Ch.1)

Pairing: Marinette/Ladybug | Adrien/Chat Noir Words: 4080 Summary: Ladybug knew this was necessary. She was the Guardian. He had the Cat Miraculous. But when his suit evaporated in a glow of pale green, she sure hadn’t expected him to have something far more precious: her heart. Cross-posted: AO3 and FFN

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | ...

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Chapter One

A Parisian night is many things.

Still isn't one of them.

Nor is silent.

And forget about dark.

At least, not from Ladybug's point of view. Air whistled past her eardrums, muffling the animated chatter from nearby eateries as she swept off steel lampposts, over puffing chimneys, across bustling streets.

With a graceful flip, her feet pecked the pavement just shy of the Pont d'Iena, the bridge that bowed before the Eiffel Tower. A nearby tween prodded her blonde friend, propelling an excited finger in Ladybug's direction. She sent them a smile and a merry salute, then launched off the pavement and onto the nearest lamppost.

The Seine River was languid as always, vivid city lights painting a blurry masterpiece upon its surface. Her reflection joined the canvas, a flurry of red as she zipped over the velvety water.

Just as she reached the Eiffel Tower, an array of lights burst to life upon its iron shell, sparkling like her living room at Christmas. At its peak, beacons shot streams of pale blue out into the night.

She pursed her lips, squinting up at the iron behemoth. It must've just hit nine o'clock, given the light display happened on the hour. She flicked up the screen on her yoyo. According to her Kitty Tracker, he hadn't moved. An uneventful patrol, it seemed.

Luck was usually in her favour, but she wasn't so sure this time around.

Chewing on her lip, she hurled her yoyo toward a nearby beam and began the familiar ascent. After a few leaps and swings, she was perfectly poised upon the russet brown fence that wrapped around the summit of the Eiffel Tower. The expansive view of Paris made it an ideal patrol point.

Chat Noir was perched upon that very same fence, gazing out at the shimmering sea of lights below. His cat ears perked up the second she appeared and in an instant, a smile split his lips. His torso twisted as he faced her from the waist up. "Why hello, Ladybug!" He threw his legs over the railing and onto the ground, his tail swaying behind him. The evening breeze tousled his hair as he bowed. "And here I was thinking the Eiffel Tower couldn't shine any brighter." He peered up at her from through his blond bangs, a glint in his eyes.

With a roll of her own eyes, she dropped from the fence. "Silly kitty," she giggled, shaking her head. "You didn't need to stand up just for me."

That only earned a wider grin from her partner, but she chose not to comment. Instead, she crossed her arms, propped them atop the railing and surveyed the city below. "Anything to report?"

With a sigh, Chat leaned against the same railing, mirroring her posture. "Other than a whole lotta nothing?"

She nestled her chin in her palm. "A quiet night, huh?"

"Very." He drummed his claws against the railing, the dull clink of metal meeting her ears. "Usually, I'd be itching for something to do, but after everything that happened last week…"

She hummed in agreement. "A little peace and quiet is a welcomed relief, that's for sure."

Silence washed over them. The whistles of the wind, the whirr of evening traffic, the occasional car horn; it all seemed louder in that moment of quiet.

Ladybug had grown accustomed to intermissions of silence here and there, spritzed amid banter and chit-chat on the evening patrols they sometimes shared. Usually, it wasn't awkward in the slightest.

In fact, it was calming.

But tonight was different, for there was a reason she'd interrupted his solo patrol.

She knew it. He knew it. And they were both eager for her to elaborate.

If only she could find the right words. Or rather, re-find them.

Like a dreaded school speech, she'd rehearsed this moment with Tikki all week. At least twenty times if her ever-patient kwami hadn't been teasing about keeping count.

It seemed silly, really.

Chat was her partner. She knew he'd bear no ill will over her decision. He rarely did. And on those odd occasions that she did upset him, he always bounced right back that very same day. So why was this so hard?

"Hey, LB?"

Her eyes shot his way, fingers digging into her palms.

"While we're on the topic of last week, there's… something I've been meaning to tell you." His voice was oddly soft, a tone he reserved for his rarely-seen serious moments.

Were those times all that rare lately? Sure, he still cracked puns and sent cheeky remarks her way, but he'd toned the flirting down tenfold. Goodness, he hadn't called her M'Lady in over a week—she almost missed it, a thought she would never give voice.

Chat's hand settled atop her fist, and her fingers relaxed beneath the comforting weight. She didn't miss the pair of green eyes that were now set on her, or the way thought hazed their depths.

He was gathering his words, she realised.

So she let him.

She turned to the sprawling metropolis ahead, glittering like a jewel that ought to be treasured and this time, she let herself enjoy the view, rather than survey it.

Maybe half a minute ticked by before Chat spoke up, his eyes fixed on the vast cityscape. "I know being Ladybug is hard work. You're under a lot of pressure every single day and there's almost no one you can talk to about it." Then he looked at her, his face softening. "And now that you're the Guardian too… well, I can't even imagine how much pressure you must be under." A smile formed on his lips. It was small and delicate, woven from solace rather than joy; it warmed her, calmed her, made her feel a little less alone in all of this. Just like the slightest squeeze he gave her hand, still beneath his own. "I guess all I want to say is that I'm here for you, always."

Tears throbbed behind her eyes as she tackled a wide-eyed Chat, and soon felt the comforting weight of his arms around her too. "I know you are," she whispered into his shoulder, voice breaking. "Thank you, Chat Noir."

Another silence drifted over them and this time, it was warm and calming and just like she remembered. Her arms around him, and his around her, might've had a part to play—not that they'd admit that aloud.

To her surprise, Chat was the one to end the embrace, complete with a strained cough into his right fist. Yup, something was definitely up with him lately.

Her arms twisted behind her back, while the front of her foot pressed back and forth into the ground, as though that'd smudge away her theories on why he's been so withdrawn.

A veil washed over his masked face, any traces of unease now replaced by a cheeky smirk. Cue the puns in three, two, one— "So, what brings mew here on this fine Parisian evening? At the tail end of my patrol, might I add." His back was against the railing, his palms pressing upon its iron top for support. "Something on your mind, LB? Or did you just miss this pawsome kitty?"

"Actually," she drawled, toying with one of her pigtails, "there is something."

Just like that, laughter faded from his eyes. "Oh?"

To Ladybug, the ground was suddenly very interesting. "I've been meaning to talk to you about it all week, but I just… I guess I don't know how to say it?"

"Well, sometimes there is no right way to say something." He placed his hands atop her shoulders, his soft smile making its way to his eyes. "Sometimes you just have to come out and say it."

"It's just that"—she glanced away for one thought-gathering moment—"I don't want to upset you."

"I can never stay mad at you, Ladybug." He winked. "You should know that by now."

A sigh slid from her lips, dispersing just a fraction of her nerves.

Well, here goes.

"This past week, I've thought a lot about my new responsibilities. I've been trying to figure out what kind of Guardian I need to be." She refocused her gaze on his own, and for a moment she felt like her suit had scattered from her skin, exposing the bumbling girl beneath. "Basically, there's one thing I know for sure. I need to keep tabs on the whereabouts of every Miraculous."

His eyes widened, so briefly she'd have missed it if she'd blinked.

"Are you saying that…"

She shied away from his gaze, rubbing her left bicep with her right hand. It took way longer than it should've to manage a measly nod. "I… need to know who you are."

"R-Really?" He shot upright, eyes twinkling, an ear-to-ear grin blooming on his face. "That – That's great!"

But his face fell when he took in her posture; the way her shoulders hunched, her stare rising no higher than his feet.

That's when he realised the reason for her concern: this would be a one-sided thing.

"Oh."

She turned away from that face – that deflated look she knew was coming – and brought a quaking hand to her chest. "I'm… I'm sorry, Chat. I don't have a choice."

His hand was on her shoulder, light as a leaf, and he carefully turned her to face him. "But you're the Guardian." He was smiling, but she was sure she'd caught his lips twitch. "Don't you kinda… y'know… make the rules? What if something happens to you?" He gripped both of her shoulders now, as though afraid she'd float away unless he held her down. "If no one knows who you are…"

She shook her head. "If I reveal my identity to you, there's no taking that back." Any certainty she'd had seemed to have thrown itself over the railing the second she'd seen that dang look on Chat's face. "I… I need more time. I need to be sure it's the right thing to do." She didn't even know who she was trying to convince at this point.

He eased a sigh through his nose, smiling gently. "I understand, Ladybug." This time, it was him who pulled her in for a hug, brief as it was. "You know I'll always support whatever decision you make." He held a hand up to his mouth and cleared his throat, half-hiding a smirk; she braced herself for what followed. "So"—he leaned well within her personal bubble, only for her to place a finger on his nose to push him right back out of it—"I should probably warn you, there's a very real chance you'll fall for my unrivalled charm and devilishly good looks."

Her smirk in that moment mirrored his own. "I doubt that'll happen, but thanks for the warning."

The spark in his eyes only proved he wasn't done. "Hey, we're a long way up,"—he shrugged with fake indifference—"and last I heard, ladybugs don't always land on their feet."

She held her nose high. "Well, Kitty"—laughter lined her voice—"I don't know what documentaries you've been watching, but I can assure you that this ladybug always lands on her feet!"

He leaned in close. "Remind me of how we met again?"

"Just drop the clown costume, Kitty Noir," she said, flicking his bell.

"As M—err, the lady commands."

When he glanced at his feet, pink pinching his cheeks, Ladybug wasn't sure if his stutter or the anticipation was to blame. In any case, he seemed to recover quickly.

Straightening to his full height, Chat exhaled a slow, shaky breath as his eyes scanned the summit of the tower, ensuring they were alone. "Okay," he said, more to himself than to her. "Here goes…"

Ladybug showed him a smile of reassurance. Inside, however, her heart thumped hard and fast, each beat echoing in her eardrums. He was her partner. Knowing who he was wouldn't change that. And off the top of her head, she couldn't even think of a guy she'd be disappointed to find behind the mask. At least, not from the list of guys who were actually kind enough to be—

"Claws in."

When his suit evaporated in a glow of pale green, she hadn't expected it to take her every coherent thought along with it. Her eye twitched. Or had that been her lip? At this point, she was almost convinced her everything was spasming.

If one compared her brain to a single thing in that moment, it would be the dreaded, ear-shredding sound of a struggling dial up connection. Or maybe a nuclear explosion, detonating in her brain, its shockwaves rattling around in her skull, turning its contents to complete and utter mush.

"Adrien Agreste," he announced with a bow, his lightly tanned hand flicking out with polished flare. Adrien peered up at her with those gorgeous green eyes, that stunning smile, his… his beautiful everything.

Returning to full height, his thick, silver ring – his Miraculous – caught the light of a few nearby wall lamps as he extended a hand. "Pleased to officially meet you, Ladybug." He nodded toward a black creature with round, bright green eyes, who'd nestled lazily across his shoulder, stretching like a lithe cat. "You've already met my kwami, Plagg."

At those words, Ladybug snapped out of her stupor, only to stumble straight into a string of stutters.

"… A… A… Adrien?"

She could've sworn she heard Plagg mutter something suspiciously akin to, "Here we go."

If her ears really hadn't been failing her, Adrien must've been ignoring the comment. All he had to say was, "Yup, that's me-ow!" before he glanced at his outstretched hand, then back to her, and his brows creased.

"You're… You're… You're Chat Noir…"

It was a statement, not a question—and it slapped her hard across her rapidly reddening face.

The line between his brows deepened as he gave his outstretched hand a lingering look, then dropped it to his side. His eyes sunk down and to his left. "Is… that okay?" A few seconds later, he dared to recapture her gaze, a ghost of a smile on his full lips. She could've sworn a hint of pink had crept across his cheeks.

Ladybug shot ramrod straight. "No! I mean yes! I mean – you're perfect. Uhh – This is perfect. Us together is perfect – as partners… who lime kite—crime fight!" She dropped her head and groaned, sure he could no longer tell where her cheeks ended and her mask began.

"So, uhh…" He bit his lip, his hand sliding behind his head to rub his neck. "From your reaction, does that mean we maybe… know each other?" His eyes gazed into hers, outshining every single light in the city around them.

"Know… each other?" The phrase floated from her lips, a direct contrast to the shrill squeaks of her next words. "What?! No!" Her hands slapped her cheeks as some sort of giggle-groan hybrid squeezed up her throat. "I just… I just snow – uhh – know you from the – err – modelling! I… I mean… the… you! You're a famous model, right?" Another giggle. "Your – Your face is all over Paris! I'd be crazy not to know you." Her chest tightened. "As – As a famous person, that is. Not as a real-life friend. I… I mean, not that you aren't my friend because you're Chat Noir and he's—you are totally one of my bestest friends and – and, technically we have met as Ladrien – erm – Adrien and Bug Lady—Ladybug!"

Adrien blinked twice. "So," he drawled, tilting his head, "we don't know each other then?"

"Yes!" In that moment, the white of her eyes completely encased her blue irises. "I mean no!" She gripped her scalp. "I mean – Yes, we don't know each other in real life!" Her arms slapped firmly to her sides as she glanced left and right, avoiding his gaze. "Err – Not that I could tell you if we did, but, well… I mean, that doesn't matter because I've totally never met you before as a pavilion—civilian!" She gripped her yoyo, desperate to busy her quaking hands. "And like I said, even if we glad—had, I could tell you – I mean, I couldn't tell you, but that doesn't matter because we never have—" She threw her hands in the air for added emphasis, only to regret it within a millisecond.

Out of the corner of her eye, something small and red went flying over the handrailing. And she was sure she'd glimpsed Adrien's and Plagg's green eyes follow the item when it had slipped from her hand and made its descent toward the ground far below.

Her eyes crept down to her hip, praying her clumsiness could spare her even a sliver of mercy tonight.

Alas, no such luck.

She looked up at Adrien and Plagg, revealing a pained grin. Maybe she was just seeing things, courtesy of her near-hyperventilation, and maybe – oh please, maybe – the thing Adrien and Plagg had been staring at had been nothing more than a pigeon.

"Ladybug, why don't I carry you down there to grab your—"

"NO!"

His eyes flew wide as she leaped back so swiftly she might've just broken the barrier of sound.

"I… I mean, no spank you!" Her life flashed before her eyes. "No thank you," she wheezed, clenching her eyes shut as though that would help force the words through her lips. "But – But I'll just – uhh – walk… down… the stairs. Because there's nothing spicer—nicer than a late-night troll—stroll down the Eiffel Tower." She swung her arm out in front of her and said, "Am I right?"

By the look on Adrien's face, it was clear her word vomit had his brain spinning with endless questions, but he must've realised asking them all now was a lost cause. That didn't stop him from asking her at least a couple, both currently relevant.

"But what if someone finds your yoyo before you do?" He rubbed his chin, watching her. "Could something bad come out of that?"

"Oh, that?" She waved a dismissive hand. "Pfft! Noooo! It'll be fiiiine! Even if shum run – fun lum – someone does find my toto before me, all I've gotta say is spots o—" A squeal shot from her mouth and she half-expected her suit to scatter in a flash of blinding pink. A single, frantic onceover assured her that that wasn’t the case, and she heaved a sigh. "Err – What I meant to say was… I'll just de-France – de-transform and I'll drab my yoyo back next chime!"

"Are… you sure you're okay?" He took a carefully placed step forward, reaching for her shoulder. "You seem—"

"I'M FINE!" Ladybug practically screamed, lunging out of his reach. His face dropped along with his shoulders and guilt twisted her stomach in knots. "Uhh… What I mean is… I'm just tired is all – uhh – but… but not too tired for a depressing—refreshing walk down Paris' tallest building!" She straightened, like something had captured her interest. "And—oh. I think I just – uhh – heard my earrings creep!" She tapped her right ear twice. "So I'd better – y'know – go." With a cough into her still-trembling fist, she shuffled toward the stairwell, past an elevator that – to her dismay – was not for public use. "Gue-Guess we'll chat later, Chadrien – Adrien!"

"Sure, I'll…"

Ladybug was already halfway to the stairs.

"… see you… at… patrol tomorrow…"

Only once she was on the stairs and out of earshot did Adrien glance at his kwami. "Plagg, did she seem a little… off to you?"

Plagg zipped off his shoulder to float in front of his face. "A little?" He snorted, waving a dismissive paw. "Now where's my cheese? I'm starving!"

Adrien shot him a look. "Really, Plagg? Ladybug just found out my secret identity and all you have to say is that you're hungry?"

"Starving, not hungry," Plagg pointed out, crossing his arms. "There's a difference, you know—" His green eyes lit up at the generously portioned, cream-coloured morsel now between Adrien's thumb and index finger, partly encased by a thick layer of rind.

Adrien flung it in the air and watched the way Plagg dove for his dinner, like some kind of wild animal. When it came to cheese that description really wasn't far off, if Adrien was honest.

The sound of desperate chewing was muffled by the myriad of thoughts that raced through his mind. He trudged toward the railing, opting for a more poignant view than a maze of iron bars. This time, when he leaned against the railing with criss-crossed arms, it was cool against his now-bare skin, and he shivered.

"You know," he said after a time, "I feel like she reminded me of someone." He tapped his chin, pursing his lips. "But I just can't figure out who."

If Plagg hadn't been floating, he might've just jumped. "Uhh, yeah," he stammered, whirling around Adrien to plop down on the railing. "She reminds you of Ladybug. Duh!"

Adrien shot Plagg a sideways glance, arching a brow. "Didn't you just say she seemed more than a little off?"

"That was before I savoured the deliciously potent delicacy that is Pont l'Eveque." He pressed his paws together, sighing wistfully as he stared out into the night. "I wasn't myself then," he whined, throwing his paws out in front of him for added emphasis. "And I make no sense when I'm hungry."

Adrien flashed a wry smile. "Don't you mean starving?"

Plagg shot his nose in the air. "The cheese is still digesting!" He scoffed. "Smart aleck."

Adrien rolled his eyes, chuckling.

"Seriously, though." Plagg hovered directly before his chosen. "I'm sure she's just tired – like she said!"

Adrien smiled weakly, and stared out at the concrete jungle that bustled below, where small cars weaved through lamppost-lined streets, their headlights illuminating the many pedestrians that dotted the sidewalks like ants. "Yeah," he eventually breathed. "Maybe you're right, Plagg."

---

Ladybug zipped down the narrow stairwell, two shaky steps at a time. The safety barrier that surrounded her, a criss-cross of metal wires, rattled at her fingertips, and the metal stairs clanked beneath her every stride, ringing out into the Parisian night.

"I'm calm," she chanted like a mantra, one she'd started maybe three hundred steps ago. "I'm calm. I'm calm. I'm completely calm. Irrevocably calm. Undeniably calm." Her tense body told another tale. "Like, if calm and composed could have a baby, I would be that baby." She balled her fists out before her, holding her chin up high. "I've got this. Yeah."

A thousand steps later and she was convinced she'd thrown the last of her luck over the ledge along with her yoyo. The elevator at the summit of the tower was for private use. And now the public elevator that joined the two observation decks to the ground was, of course, out of order. While that meant the Eiffel Tower was quieter than normal for a Thursday night, it also meant she had to continue the rest of her trek by stairs.

So naturally, she was now stuck behind a very slow – and very curious – tour group. They kept stealing backward glances at her, before whispering in their neighbour's ear. Something about a "fake in a cheap costume", she thought one person had said.

Any other night – literally any other – and she would've been all smiles and rainbows and unicorns.

Tonight?

Not a chance.

The only thing on her agenda right now was to get home stat. It was the only safe place for her imminent mental breakdown. And at this rate, she feared her frenzied thoughts would fire from her lips like a violent shockwave before she even reached the ground.

"Wow!" the tour guide – Francois, if she'd heard correctly – exclaimed with no preamble. "Look over there, folks!" He brandished a large hand, speckled with age-spots, at something past the wired barrier. "There goes one of Paris' superheroes, Chat Noir." The entire group skidded to an agonising halt, their gasps of awe and murmurs of excitement floating through the air. "We see him and the real Ladybug almost every day. The Eiffel Tower seems to be a favourite patrol spot of theirs—no doubt because of the marvellous view!"

A groan squeezed up Ladybug's throat as she slapped her forehead, and proceeded to drag that same hand down her steadily flushing face.

"I am. Completely. Calm."

[imtryingthisout]

Sanders-Tale: The Falling Child

(A fic based on @nachosforfree Undertale Au, check it out)

Running.

Running: Tiny twig-thin legs carrying a skinny body as they desperately ran.

Faster- faster

Ducking under branches and leaping over stones

Faster- faster

The black and grey cloak was made of heavy fabric. A winter’s cloak in the middle of summer.

Faster- faster

It weighted the child, for it was a child who was running, down slightly. Not enough to slow down, but heavy all the same.

Faster, hurry, faster.

The forest surrounding the mythic mountain was thick and treacherous . The trees grew wide and untamed for no logger or lumberjack wanted to brave the mountain, not even to obtain the plentiful wood and other resources that lay there. There were stories about those who ventured up to the mountain top, and those stories rarely ended well.

They say those who go up to Mt Ebbot don’t come back down.

It was dark, making an already dangerous journey all the more perilous. The child could not see the moon nor stars. The child could barely see the sky at all, over the blanketed canopy of branches that lay over their head.

Raindrops fell heavily from the growing storm, making the earth below wet and slick. Mud clinged to the child’s clothes, clogging up the groves in their shoes, making it harder to not trip over the many treeroots and other obsticals that lay in their way. As they ran up the mountain.

Faster and faster.

Soon the terrain changed from the unpredictable muddied earth to the cold certainty of stone. And so the child stopped running.

Two unnaturally bright violet eyes- demon eyes the villagers whispered- tried in vain to see what lay ahead in the dark. The child had seemingly wandered into a cave at the top of the mountain. Seeking shelter from the storm- the child wandered in further. Taking short cautious step to avoid the myriad of roots that grew into the cave’s mouth from the forest.

Step by step the child crept further into the cave, and step by step the child gained more and more confidence. Till a burst of thunder cause the child to jump—

—a foot got caught in a twisted vine that curved upward making the child slip—

—and fall into a great pit that was unseen in the darkness of the night making the child fall

Further

And further

And further down into the great abyss

The child didn’t even have the time to scream before darkness overtook their exhausted vision.

………..

.......

....

...

..

.

The first thing the fallen child noticed was sunlight streaming down from the top of the cavern, ricocheting of the warm brown stone just to hit them square in the face.

“Hellooo? Hellooo? Hey, are you dead?”

The second thing they noticed was that they were not alone.

“Oh good you’re not dead, that would’ve sucked” said the… person in front of them? It certainly didn’t look like any person the child had ever seen. It was short- with two baby goat horns poking out of its forehead. Wide dual colored eyes looked down at the child as if it was the most curious thing on earth. Green and Red like holly berries and leaves.

The child let out a pained groan. They must have hit their head too hard when they fell, because this was the weirdest hallucination they had ever seen. Or maybe they were dead- or bleeding out at the bottom of a pit where no one would ever find their body- not that anyone would have bothered to look, but still it was the principal of the matter.

“Where… am I? And what the devils are you?” The child rasped out, their voice gaining more strength as they went on, till it ended their question in a pointed tone.

The creature blinked owlishly. “Uh you’re in the underground dummy- where’d you think you were?” It said as if those words were the simplest thing and the child was very very stupid for not knowing. “Well technically you’re in the ruins, but the ruins are part of the underground soooo” it’s voice trailed off.

“Ugh great, my death bed hallucination is a smart ass. Perfect”

“What?!” The creature exclamation, quite dramatically too- it put his hand over its chest like some histrionic uptown woman who had just been delivered unthinkable news. “I’m not a hallucination! And you are certainly not dead… though I think you might have hit your head cause you’re acting pretty dumb right now. Honestly, what monster forgets what the underground is?” It said rolling its eyes.

“I’m not a monster” the creature-monster?- startled, looking back at the child oddly. “What? What do you mean you’re not a monster. How could you not be- you’re either a monster or you’re—“

“Human. I’m a human”

A pause. A single beat of stunned silence before the monster pounced- literally pounced! - on the human child, squealing with excitement.

“Holy Stars! I’ve never seen a real life human before! What’s it like on the surface? Do you really eat naughty monsters who don’t finish their supper? Do you have fields of wildflowers and fruit that you can just go and eat whenever? What’s the sun like? Do you still have magic battles? Did you really paint yourselves with the dust of your enemies and dance around bonfires? What’s—“

“GET OFF OF ME” the child yelled, shoving the monster. “What are you even talking about? Magic? Monsters? What’s going on?”

The monster seem confused at child’s questions, “what do you mean you don’t know? Humans locked all monsters under the magic barrier after we lost The Great War. Don’t they teach you guys about this stuff?”

“No? What war?” The child could not remember being told about any war, especially one with monsters. “Also magic isn’t real.”

The creature rolled its eyes at that, “uh yeah it is. Monsters are pretty much made of magic so how could I exist if it wasn’t real.”

“I’m still not convinced this isn’t my brains last fuck you before I die via fall damage”

“Uh! How can I convince you that this is real- do I need to pinch you or—“ the child flinched away violently. The monster frowned at the sight. Biting it’s lip in concentration as it thought of a way to prove to the human that, yes, this was real.

The creature was a colorful sort, the child noticed, with curly rusty brown hair that was streaked with silver and gold. It was a chimera of features all cobbled together.

Mixed-mashed eyes, wolf like ears, two baby horns, just to name a few. It seemed to have some sort of paw-feet, for it wore no shoes and the child could see the dog-like toe beans that carried the monster. The parts of the creature that were exposed flesh seemed to glisten slightly in the light, creating little rainbows that swarmed the child’s eyes. There was pattern of some sort, thin even lines separating the diamond-like shapes, crawling up its arms like the scales of a snake. With deeper patches showing pigment more clearly, the spots of a copperhead.

“I know! What if I show you?” The monster exclaimed, finally coming up with an idea. It also Startled the child out of their venomous thoughts. “Show me what” the child demand- their mind already swarming with numerous horrible possibilities. But the monster carried on unconcerned, “Magic dummy”

The child started blankly. “You… can do magic?” maybe the incurious tone was a bit snide and rude, but the child had had a very rough day and couldn’t help but be unimpressed with the thing-monster in front of them. But the creature just nodded vigorously, eager with anticipation “Yuh huh- here,watch this”

The monster closed its eyes, focusing on its outstretched palms. It seemed to be concentrating very hard if the tautness in its expression was to be believed. The child was about to retort with a smart ‘don’t strain yourself’ when their words died in their mouths.

Suddenly the atmosphere grew heavy and dark, like a cold winter’s night. The human felt a sharp tug at the center of their being that set their heart racing. Looking up the human couldn’t quite believe their eyes. As the monster seemed to be holding light itself in its clawed hands. All manner of formless colors shifting and spiraling in beautiful and terrible patterns. Behind it tendrils took shape, the child likened them to the limbs of the kraken. The legendary monster that old sailors that hung near the edges of town would curse.

All around it innumerable shapes were called into existence. The bold streaks of color shining in the dark like a beacon.

Pink, yellow, blue, red. The colors where solidifying now. Gaining depth and hue.

Green, orange, navy, teal. They twisted up out of the monsters hands. Curling around one another and Blooming like a spring rose.

Red-yellow-orange-white. The colors where mixing with each other . Loosing themselves and being reborn as something new.

Blue-black-red-pink. Cancelling each other out. Some darkening, some lightening, as they blended.

Navy-gold-yellow. Swirled together till they were inseparable, to form a marvelously rich deep green.

Blue-pink-red. Each one coming together in glorious cacophony - until-

A burst of white light engulfed the room, chasing away the dark and lifting the atmosphere. The crushing weight on the child’s soul let go as cavern returned to itself, the shadows subsiding.

The child was on the ground breathing heavily, “what… was .. that!” They demanded in between pants for air. The monster ler out a gap-toothed grin. “That my human companion, was magic! Look-“ the creature shoved its hands in front of the child.

There in its cupped hands grew a flower that was unlike any the child ever saw. Its stem was a rich emerald green, the color of jewels they could never dream to own. The petals were dotted with specks of gold- buttercup yellow, but the majority of the flower was-

“purple” the child whispered, voice with wonder. The same freakish color of their eyes, down to the very shade, but the flower wasn’t freakish. It was beautiful.

“Soooo, do you believe me now?” The child nodded mutely, not trusting themself to answer. “Good!” Said the monster it (he? She? ) seemed quite pleased now. It passed the magical flower into the humans hands.

“I’m Romulus by the way” he said extending his (paw?claw?) hand to shake. “What’s your name?”

“Virgil” said the human, using Romulus grip to hoist themself up. Their clothes were -predictably- ruined from the storm, forest, and fall. Not that they were great to begin with, but still. Most of the fabric had been torn to shreds by thorns and branches. And what wasn’t reduced to rags was soaked with mug and dirt. Combine that with the cuts and bruises that painted their body, Virgil looked like crap.

Romulus seemed to be thinking the same thing. Since he offered to take Virgil to his house to help them. Apparently one of his dads knew some healing spells and would be willing to fix them up.

Virgil wasn’t one to go home with strangers, but what choice did they have? Besides Romulus didn’t seem bad- egocentric and ditzy brained, yes- but not dangerous. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t human, or maybe they were just too tired to care. But Virgil allowed themself to be guided by Romulus, the purple flower tucked neatly behind their ear. Listening to their new (friend?) companion as he regaled them with dramatic stories and adventures. All the while never knowing how this one action would change everything for good.

[mythicamagic]

Swimming in Silk: Chapter 21

Training in front of her, engaging her in conversation and now lending her his clothes…Kagome is starting to suspect that Sesshoumaru is trying to gain her attention.

Sesskag - Romance, Humour, Drama, Angst

Rated M - As always you can read this story on Ao3, fanfiction.net or Dokuga

Chapter One - here    Previous Chapter - here      Next Chapter - here

Ko-fi page

Preening for Princes~

The wench gaped like a fish, not looking particularly intelligent.

Sesshoumaru redirected his attention to the winter landscape surrounding them, watching it thaw. Ice melted at a startling pace, giving way to lush green leaves and grass lurking just beneath. Soon the patches of snow became puddles, dark clouds dissipating over the sun.

Glancing at her, he lifted a silver brow. "Where is the half breed?"

She opened her mouth to reply, teeth chattering. Due to the magnitude of her shivering, she could barely formulate words. Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes, patience snapping as he grabbed her by the scruff of her yukata and leapt into the sky. She screeched and held onto his wrist for dear life, but he ignored it. Flying over the trees, his superior sense of smell led him to a hot spring.

Which he promptly threw her into.

Kagome landed with a squeak, disappearing under the surface, before lurching up with an enraged look as he landed on a boulder not too far away.

"You could have set me down nicer! This pool is shallow!"

Sharp claws twitched, and something in his expression made her deflate, mumbling a thank you.

Hn, she obviously isn't entirely foolish then. Though, he somewhat acknowledged this already. She did have some skill with the bow and reiki, untrained though she was.

"This one will not ask again," he reminded, inspecting his claws.

Kagome minded some wet hair from her face, glancing at Tokijin at his hip for some reason. "I don't know where Inuyasha is," she said, nothing in her hinting at dishonesty.

He decided to believe her, though irritation marred his brow. As usual, the whelp was completely irresponsible and had lost the miko. Perhaps she'd been kidnapped again.

"Anyway, why did all the ice and snow suddenly melt? It looks like it's summer now," she said, glancing around at the lush forest and skies as the sun started to descend towards the horizon.

"This one killed an ice apparition shortly before discovering you. It was affecting the lands."

"Right…" she winced, rubbing her arms and sinking a little deeper into the warm waters. "Thank you for that, by the way. But why kill it?"

He found her inane questioning somewhat annoying. Surely she'd sensed the demon in the area. And did she not have the sense to know which season they were in? "It was one of Naraku's vermin," he said at length.

"An incarnation…" her lips thinned, seeming to think. Abruptly Kagome's demeanour changed as she glanced at him, clearing her throat and straightening. She trailed a finger in the water, looking up at him under wet lashes.

"Wow, killing one so easily? That's really impressive."

Sesshoumaru hopped off the boulder to touch down on the ground. "Your point?"

"Ah it's just…you know. What a brave thing to do~ shows you're really strong. It's admirable." She seemed to wince.

Sesshoumaru wondered if she'd bumped her head against the ice repeatedly when trying to surface. He pivoted on his heel, uninterested in looking after a confused priestess.

"Wait!" Her voice strained when he began to pad away. Pointed ears twitched slightly.

"I-I'm a good jewel detector. If you keep me around until we see Inuyasha again, I could help you with tracking down Naraku."

Sesshoumaru mulled it over as he stopped. There was some logic to her words, though he bristled at the thought of seeing his half-brother again. "This one does not require help in locating the filth."

"Maybe so, but…" her words came haltingly, as though trying to walk on eggshells. "If you got uh- distracted by this ice apparition, can I assume you thought it initially might be Naraku because it smelled like him?"

Sesshoumaru did not answer.

"I'm just saying, I could maybe help with telling them apart."

His jaw ticked, turning to pin her with a lofty expression. "Hn, very well. If you are irritating or slow however, you will be tossed back into the lake from whence you came."

Kagome bit her bottom lip as though fighting something, setting her bag down on the side along with her bow and quiver. "Alright, just let me get dried and changed. I won't take long."

He did not grace her with a response. Refusing to move from his spot, the demon fully expected her to voice a maidenly qualm.

Kagome began casually stripping.

Sesshoumaru stilled. His eye soon twitched when blue ones shifted to meet his as the obi was tugged loose. She slid the yukata off her shoulders, baring creamy, unmarked flesh to be bathed in the warm light of the setting sun. Curious bindings covered her chest, black and lacy. Heat curled up from the hot springs, trailing in the air and causing black locks to kink. The skin bared to his sight was soaked, beads of water running down neck and collarbone. Her heart beat fast, thudding loud in his ears. Goosebumps raised on her arms. Cheeks darkened to lush crimson.

He frowned deeper. While he did not understand where her nerve had come from, Sesshoumaru knew a challenge when he saw one. Perhaps she wanted him to turn away and fret like a gentleman.

But he was Daiyoukai.

He stared unflinchingly, tilting his chin up slightly. She unclasped the bindings and lifted them off to reveal the hardened peaks of rosy nipples.

It occurred to him that a passing demon could stumble upon this scene and take it the wrong way. His mother would certainly be chortling. Not that the Demon Lord cared what others thought.

When she hooked her fingers under the strange scrap of cloth covering her maidenhood, keen eyes picked up on the tremble in her hand under the water.

Sesshoumaru's lips curved, and he inhaled deeply. Ah, nervousness. She was putting up a front, but-

His tongue pushed against the back of a fang. Arousal was there. He could sense the sharp, heady taste of it even as the water diluted it. Kagome pushed her undergarments down, almost completely bare to his critical gaze, save for the steam and water obstructing his view.

He recalled hearing her snarl once when the monk had glimpsed her undergarments due to a breeze, not inviting attention to her flesh. With her complete nakedness however, he now could not tell if she was urging him to lay with her, or challenging him to look away.

The fool was lucky he did not kill her for such impudence.

At least this strange, ridiculous challenge wasn't a complete waste of time. He now knew human female bodies much-resembled youkai, just without the additional features of markings, horns, tails or fangs. She did bare battle scars though. A particularly nasty one hooked under her ribs, large and jagged where flesh had been torn. There was also a few recent looking red scratches on her body and large bite mark scars on her arm which he found mildly interesting.

Kagome then opened her bag, pulling out clothes.

"…How are they dry?" He broke the silence out of curiosity.

"O-oh, the bag is waterproof," the wench's voice was uneven.

Sesshoumaru hummed, watching her step out of the pool to dry herself and change. As though nothing had happened.

But upon inhaling again, he scented buzzing excitement and lingering arousal. The Demon Lord was used to females desiring him. He supposed the foolish girl had simply become interested without his knowledge.

Not that he'd lower himself thus.

There was also something else though, something he'd overlooked that could be sensed now that she was out of the water…

The wench was not a virgin anymore.

Inuyasha must have satisfied himself with her, he thought to himself. If she was coming to him with such inviting eyes though, she'd obviously found the Hanyou lacking.

How amusing.

It certainly stroked his male ego, though Sesshoumaru's face remained impassive. Nothing would come of her desires. As he'd just proven, one naked woman with a slim, delicious figure did not, in fact, tempt a demon of his calibre. He required more.

-----

After changing, the wench followed as the Daiyoukai set a brisk pace into the forest. The sky soon darkened from oranges to purples. He'd lose valuable time by having to stop to accommodate her needs, so he did not offer to stop to make camp.

Much of his bloodlust had been sated by the earlier kill, therefore, much of him was at ease. He almost felt contented.

Footsteps behind him quickened until Kagome jogged to fall into step next to him.

Almost. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I just thought it would be nicer if we walked together."

"Hn."

"S-so, you hungry?"

The demon looked at her. He felt his silence spoke volumes.

"I can…find food? If you are."

"This one does not eat human food."

Kagome nodded, making her short black locks bounce. He found it strange she'd cut them, deciding he did not like the change. His jaw tightened at the mere thought that he had a preference at all.

"I'll bring back something you'll like, promise."

"To imply that this Sesshoumaru cannot fend for himself is a grave insult."

She huffed, eyes glittering with mirth. "Don't give me that, I know exactly what it means to hunt for you."

Sesshoumaru stopped, attention snapping to her. This caused her to freeze, amusement dying as she stepped on a twig, making it snap. He sensed nervousness skitter into her scent. Curiously, her cheeks heated again, but those blue eyes remained fixed on him. Stubborn.

"And what pray tell does it mean?"

She seemed to asses him in much the same manner he did her. For some reason, instinct kept prompting him to notice that all was not normal with the wench once again. She was not wearing that ridiculously skimpy scrap of cloth, and though he did not usually pay attention to her face, his keen eye picked up on signs of maturity that were not there when last he saw her. Liked she'd aged.

Even her baring was different, though he couldn't pinpoint in what way. Perhaps this was merely how the wench looked and behaved without Inuyasha's presence impeding her.

"S-so um, where's the kid?" She backed down, carrying on.

"Rin is with Jaken, in a secure demon village," he uttered in clipped tones, following.

"I see." She fell quiet for a moment. "Earlier…why did you save me from the lake?"

"This one mistook you for a fish," he said flatly.

Hearing a small giggle, Sesshoumaru fully expected her to keep prattling on. Usually she seemed to jabber with her friends, or nag the whelp. Yet she remained silent.

The demon blinked, not sensing hesitation. Her heart sounded steady. She looked almost content.

That was when he realised she was not afraid of being with him, alone. They had never spent time together thus, yet here she was being 'chummy.'

Ultimately not knowing what to make of it, he decided not to acknowledge her further.

----

Kagome didn't complain once, despite his pushing them into the late hours of the night. She panted and weakened occasionally, but had stopped only to refill her water bottle. She kept bumping into trees, which only proved to him how weak human eyesight truly was in the dark.

In his own way, he supposed the long walk had become payback for earlier. A challenge redirected back at her.

She staggered behind him now, and his boots crunched on the grass, before falling silent. Insects cried in high, continuous chirping sounds, the moon their only light.

Long legs trembled, sweat dotting her forehead. The heaviness of her bag hadn't helped matters, nor the cumbersome bow and arrow. She drew in quick breaths, swallowing to try and catch it, looking up at him.

Exhausted, like a little deer trembling on ice.

"I can keep- hah…going," she grit out, glaring.

Sesshoumaru's lips curved slightly. Or a tigress.

"We stop here for tonight," he finally conceded.

When she didn't move, he walked over to a tree and leaned back against it, settling down at the base. He drew a knee up, draping a strong arm over it. Uncaring of what she decided to do, the Demon Lord's lashes fell shut, head resting back against the bark.

Vague sounds of footsteps padded faintly around. Smelling something, he distantly realised that she'd made a fire. The bag made that odd 'zip' noise, which told him she was probably laying out her damp clothes from earlier to let them dry. She then seemed to rise, a smaller glow accompanying her as she moved.

A torch.

Her scent and the crunching of leaves and grass became fainter as she drew further and further away.

A golden eye slid open. He glimpsed her form seconds before it disappeared into the darkness of the surrounding trees.

Well, she is not my charge. If she is lost, then so be it. Sesshoumaru's eye slid shut.

Sleep claimed the dozing demon, though such a thing hadn't been planned. Cicada's irritating chirps faded away from attention, and he drifted pleasantly.

Without the heat of battle or the scent of blood filling his senses, it was difficult for him to focus on the mundane. The quiet night. A gentle breeze. But when he did, it was with quiet appreciation.

While dreaming, Sesshoumaru wondered what would become of him, if he lived to such a time when battle became obsolete. He did not know how to live any other way. So many soldiers and generals retired to their homes after fighting. To families.

Would he take a mate?

His mind shied away from such a thought, though he knew it was necessary to take one. Foolish. Such a thing felt so far removed from what he understood. Foreign. To mate was to obtain heirs, continue the bloodline. He knew this, yet the part about 'sharing emotion' and binding lives together felt invasive. Vulnerable, different to merely rutting.

At some point in the night, his nostrils flared, picking up an appetising scent. His mouth filled with saliva.

Hunger. Yes, he was hungry. He should hunt, feed. Sink sharp canines into hide and bone and rip jugulars with wailing cries-

Magenta lids snapped open. His burning gaze rested on the hide of a stag, resting on its side five feet away. Arrows were embedded into its hide. The throat had been slit by a blade.

When? How?

Hearing a thud, Sesshoumaru's back straightened, hand flying to the hilt of Tokijin. Upon standing smoothly, he realised the sound had come from the wench. She'd collapsed in an ungraceful heap on the floor, unconscious. Sweat slicked her brow.

Now he supposed the question became: why?

"Don't give me that, I know exactly what it means to hunt for you."

Slit pupils slid to the fallen stag. He could see a crushed trail of grass coming from within the furthermost trees in the forest where she must have dragged the thing from.

Sesshoumaru deliberated. He then knelt to inspect it. The buck was in adolescence, not fully grown, judging by the size and antlers. He supposed that was how the wench had managed to pull it's carcass so far. The neck had been turned in his direction in offering. From a purely predator standpoint, he then inspected the method of the kill.

Three arrows.

The first, he theorised, was in the back.

Second was the upper hindquarters.

The third and last, was in the lower hind leg, which had no doubt brought it down finally. Sesshoumaru sneered. Sloppy.

Smoothing his palm over the hide of the prey, inhuman attention fixed on the slit throat. He then sniffed.

Salt.

She'd been crying.

Staring at the kill, he noted the cut was clean and quick. While the arrows were unimpressive, it was indicative of her fatigue. The blade, however was indicative of compassion. She hadn't wanted it to suffer, probably regretted her aim.

Sesshoumaru's jaw ticked. While he wanted to reject the kill and all it's meaning, he had not been raised to refuse offerings, nor ignore perfectly good food that would spoil. Standing, he approached the wench and removed mokomoko from her shoulder, tossing it onto her. She seemed to curl eager limbs around it instinctively, sighing into the soft, cloud-like fur.

He stared, soon transforming with a rush of red heat curling around his form. I will think of this kill as your thanks for my protection thus far, wench. Do not try my patience by performing any other courting methods.

The white dog demon then lunged onto the deer, sinking sharp teeth into its carcass.

----

When the sun peered over the tops of the tall trees, Sesshoumaru felt its warmth on his face. The brightening light behind his lids stirred him, but he did not move.

'Twack!'

He frowned.

'Twack!'

Gold eyes cracked open, flashing in the bright light. They fixed on the figure in the clearing a little ways away. Sunlight filtered through the branches of the trees, catching black strands of hair being playfully teased by the breeze.

She stood with her feet planted firmly on the ground, legs slightly spread. Her back arched exquisitely, upper body bare save for those strange lacy black bindings covering her breasts, which pushed up as she reached behind her.

Sesshoumaru could not say why his attention was seized now, when he'd seen her completely bare yesterday. Perhaps it was the addition of the bow being gripped tightly- lithe fingers running over the fletching before she drew the arrow and notched it in a smooth motion that sparked fire into his veins, tantalising nerve endings. Her body moved as though performing a dance, turning on her heel to draw the bowstring taut, aiming at the high branches.

Youki heated over his skin when he sensed reiki pulse out from the point of the arrowhead. Blue eyes seemed to darken, until she fired. He could see the moment her muscles coiled and relaxed. Watched as her chest rose and fell, abdomen tightening. The arrow sailed through the air- reiki coiling out through the deadly point, before it hit the tree. Joy and pride tangled in her scent.

Kagome continued turning and firing. He noted she aimed for far off branches difficult to hit. Sweat dotted her brow. His slit pupils slid over the curves of her hips as holy powers rippled over her skin like water-

'Twack!'

Sesshoumaru inwardly jolted, as though being roused from a dream. Kagome panted softly, now looking at him. One of the straps of her bindings had slid down off a shoulder. His fangs ached, cock stirring and hardening slightly without warning.

The Daiyoukai quickly stood, form blurring over in a streak of white. Strong fingers buried themselves in her locks- clenching tight and pulling so that her head was yanked back. Kagome gasped, gritting her teeth and blushing. She then tilted her chin to offer the temptation of her smooth throat.

"This one should kill you for such disrespect!" He snarled, markings blazing jagged on his cheeks.

Her body jolted and she gaped at him. "What? Why?"

"A miko extending such an offer to me is ridiculous. Bedding you is one thing. It would only shame me in private, but to mate you would invite humiliation onto my House-"

Kagome suddenly twisted in his grip, slamming a hand out to his armoured chest. Sesshoumaru reeled back, grunting and releasing her as an energy shield struck against him.

She straightened then, panting and glaring. Those blue eyes deepened and sparked with a startling compacity for anger. For some reason, he saw himself mirrored back at him for a moment. Fire and cold brimstone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Receiving an offering from a miko is an insult? I'd humiliate you if we were mated?" She spat. "Great. Just perfect. Of course I have to try and placate your fragile ego before you can even give me a chance!"

Sesshoumaru made a vicious noise in the back of his throat at her nerve, raising his hand and striking his claws out.

She ducked low and caused another barrier to appear- which sparked when his hand collided with it, the pink energy rippling. Sesshoumaru's heart thundered in his ears, the hair on the back of his neck rising. He dodged just in time as an arrow barely missed him- sailing past his cheek. Reiki caressed his skin, static heat fanning over his stripes.

His muscles coiled- before Sesshoumaru sprang, pushing her down and straddling her waist. Kagome's head hit the earth, soon struggling in a frenzy, kicking her legs under him and snarling. Striking her hands out proved useless as her wrists were seized, pinned above her head. Blunt teeth suddenly sank into his arm and Sesshoumaru let out an ear-piercing growl, shaking her off.

His lips drew back, fangs throbbing with need to bury themselves in her shoulder- instinct demanding he claim the unruly, powerful-

"Don't," she whispered, going still.

He paused, reeling. His lips had stopped just shy of her collarbone, hot breath fanning over it in quick pants. He hadn't been planning to- had he? "...Barely a moment ago, you were offering yourself," he muttered defensively, voice a harsh whisper of sound.

"I know. But I don't want you to mark me when you're confused. To sleep with me 'in spite of' what I am," blue eyes stared up at him, breathing softly. "Is it asking too much to want you to pick me for...me?" She murmured, voice wavering.

His jaw clenched, and he drew back slightly. The words spilt forth automatically; "This one would never choose a human for a mate."

"That's not you talking!" Her hands drew into fists. "The Sesshoumaru I know would pick up a sword made from Naraku's incarnation. He wouldn't care where it came from, what it was. Only that it was useful to him. Am I so different?" She shuddered, tears swimming in her eyes as his silver hair pooled around them. "I'm useful. I could be an asset. So stop thinking of me only as a human, like everyone else would at your House. Look at my use, and then decide!"

Sesshoumaru watched, ageless attention tethered to her. Kagome took a breath, and wriggled, drawing herself out from under him. He allowed her freedom. She sat not too far away, holding her bare arms.

He knew she should not speak thus. She had no right. Every word was more evidence for why she should be killed. Yet for some reason, he listened as her lips kept moving.

"The only reason I have to talk about my 'use' at all is because you're blind sighted by your need to prove yourself. But what do you even want, Sesshoumaru? You have power. What have you done with it?" She grit out. "You've protected a little girl and patrolled your lands. You've decided to rid Japan of one of it's greatest threats. You keep acting like you need to fight the strongest opponents to rule absolutely, to have a mate the House would approve of, but that's being a Lord. In reality...it's your buried kindness that could define you, Sesshoumaru. If you let it. Your need to protect. There's a whole other side of you, separate from the one bound by duty!"

"Ridiculous. You speak of this one displaying kindness? Did you forget seeing my hand impaling Inuyasha's chest?" He rose and stepped closer, voice velvety. "Shall I do so again, to remind you?"

Kagome stood, matching his step with a determined look and getting in his face. "I don't remember you killing him when you could have ethier. When he passed out all those times, you just decided not to finish him off!"

A large hand captured her neck then, fingers curling around her throat in a grip that could easily tighten and snap the bone.

"And how do you claim to know so much about me?" He purred.

Kagome made no move to resist, glaring at him. "I just do!"

"You have never spared this one a glance, do not mock me."

"But I- wait how do you know if I was looking or not?"

"Do not be foolish. It is not as though a loud-mouthed woman like yourself would catch my interest. What is your point?"

She groaned, pushing at his stripped wrist. "I'm too angry to remember! But I'm pretty sure it was that mating a princess who'll worship you won't bring you joy! It'll just be a calculated move. Having someone unsuitable by your side...it might not be such a bad thing. Because it would be a choice made by you for no other reason than you wanted them."

A cruel noise of derision escaped him then. Cold mockery frosting his eyes into winter ice. "And you would make this one happy, wench?"

"I..." her rant was cut off, loose tongue tripping over itself. Blue eyes dimmed, shoulders sagging. "Not...always. But I'd try. God...I'd try," she murmured, the pads of her fingers sliding slightly lax over his wrist.

He found it a strange thing, that his entire body should become fixated onto her fingers on his markings. His wrist blazed, though she used no reiki.

"You don't have to pick me. I do just want your happiness. Even if I have no right to say that, considering..."

He arched a brow. "Considering?"

"It's nothing," her eyes slid away before focusing on him and hardening. "But I'm not giving up. Even if you dismiss me now, I'm not stopping. If I'm pushed away, I'll fight back until I disappear."

"You'd go so far?"

Kagome set her jaw, nodding as best she could. "Of course I would. If it's..." she gentled then, inexpiably. "If it's for you."

Sesshoumaru instantly released her as though burned, pivoting on his heel to turn away. Yet the afterimage of her eyes was seared into the recesses of his mind.

He exhaled and decided yet again to be objective, to place revenge on Naraku above confronting this further. Because the depth of feeling in that blue gaze disconcerted him in a way he did not want to examine. If she lusted for his body, he understood. If she wanted to be his mate and attain lands, he understood.

Anything more? He did not wish to discuss or see in her yearning, soft expression. "Do as you please. We continue searching for Naraku regardless," he grit out.

Hearing nothing but silence, he frowned, glancing over his shoulder. "Woman?"

Kagome was shaken from her reverie, raising her head and setting her shoulders. "Y-yeah...I'm coming," she tugged her yukata back up, tying her obi tight and rubbing her eyes, following when he started to pad away.

After packing away her things and leaving the camp, her voice graced his hearing once more.

"So um, did you at least like the stag?"

He thought to criticise her kill. "Mn, it was acceptable," he said instead.

Fondness flowed into her scent.

"I'm glad."

----

She was doing it again.

Sesshoumaru slightly frowned, and redirected his gaze to the mountains on the horizon, forcing his attention to stay on the distant hills and valleys that had previously held him so engrossed.

Kagome moved once more.

He clenched his jaw, chancing a glance.

As expected, the miko stood some distance away, poised and ready in a deadly stance, bow drawn.

He inwardly sighed.

She fired at the high reaches of the trees, slender body moving with an ease born from practice, not inherent skill. Youthful eyes were eager, a smile brightening her face, as though she enjoyed coiling holy power over her skin like a see-through dress.

Sesshoumaru had tried on numerous occasions to ignore her whenever they stopped for a rest. It seemed she was content to keep displaying for him, preening like an exotic bird he couldn't recall the name of. He glanced at her 'plumage' she kept inviting his gaze to by stripping almost half-naked- before closing his eyes again with annoyance.

"Woman."

"Mn?"

"Must you continue doing that while we travel?" He uttered.

"Are you telling me to stop?" She hummed, turning to face him.

The astute look in her eyes caught him off guard, and he sneered, tilting his chin up regally. "Do not let it interfere with our progress."

"I'm not~" she chirped, smiling teasingly.

Stormy eyes narrowed, before flicking over her shoulder. Kagome stiffened and notched her bow in the direction, aiming at the demon that stepped out of the bushes not too far away. She was a beautiful woman, with a thick looking yellow kimono and ornate hair ornaments.

His palm reached out, setting on the miko's bow to prompt her to lower it. She obeyed, much to his quiet satisfaction.

The demoness bowed, oily dark hair spilling over her shoulders. "My Lord Sesshoumaru. Please, I have travelled here today to display for you."

"D-display?!" Kagome squeaked.

"Hn, did you think yourself the only one to try and catch my eye?" Sesshoumaru huffed quietly. "A few offers a week are extended to this one to take a mate."

Her eyes were wide, and she swallowed. Sudden nervousness welled up in her scent, causing cruel lips to tug up at the edges. He gestured for the demon to get on with it, eager to see the miko squirm.

She straightened and brought out delicate fans, beginning the steps of an ancient dance that showed off her grace and discipline. Sesshoumaru watched with flat eyes. He only remained out of flimsy respect, as though hearing out a confession he had little interest in. She had no power to lace her fans, just a pretty appearance that was entirely false, and a few moves.

Nonetheless, he heard a gasp at his side. Kagome had her hands clasped, watching with awe.

Finally, the demoness' neck suddenly extended, becoming long and thin. It looped in the air, sending her head up to the tops of the trees to smile alluringly.

Sesshoumaru turned on his heel and began walking away.

Kagome made a noise behind him. "Hey! Aren't you going to answer her?"

"This one is answering."

He expected her to follow, but was brought up short by the sound of the woman padding in the opposite direction. He stopped, biting back a sigh.

She approached the demon, patting her shoulder as the neck curled in the air, the now miserable rokurokubi listening as Kagome consoled her. "Don't worry, you danced beautifully. Are you hungry? I have some food if you are."

The head nodded from high above, surprised. "Thank you?"

"Don't mention it. You deserve a man to dance for you, not the other way round." Kagome nodded sagely, pulling out a lunchbox of meat she'd been saving for herself and passing it over to the woman.

Sesshoumaru stared. He soon shook himself and turned, carrying on. Kagome made her goodbyes and hurried after him, falling into step naturally at his side.

"Why help that lower demon? She is your rival." He muttered after a moment.

Kagome lifted a shoulder, fixing her yukata. "She looked sad, and I know if I got rejected so coldly, I'd like some comfort food."

"You are disappointed I did not pick her?" He smirked. "That would make you lose my hand."

She hummed, ducking under a low hanging branch first and lifting it up for him. "It's not that. I knew she wasn't your type. You just could have been a little nicer, I'm sure she practised that dance for hours."

Sesshoumaru cut his eyes to the sky, moving under smoothly and padding on. "That is none of my concern."

"Still I... didn't know that walking away meant rejection," she murmured, guilt pluming in her scent. Sesshoumaru arched a brow.

"You speak as though a demon has displayed for you."

Her face became touched with nostalgia. Warmth softened her worried expression and for a moment, such palpable love and longing could be glimpsed, scented in the air like a snuffed out candle- until it was hidden away. He did not know why it inspired petty feelings within him.

"Once, yeah." She said softly. "You don't have to get jealous though, I only want you." Playful eyes ensnared him then, glittering with mirth.

He scoffed, giving a haughty look. "Who do you think you are dealing with? This one is above such things."

Kagome gave a cough that dissolved into a quiet giggle.

---

Another day passed in much the same way, with the woman determinedly bringing him food. She began asking him what he'd prefer to eat, and because he'd not been expecting it, he answered rabbit. A painfully easy prey in comparison to others. Naturally, she was successful.

So after night fell yet again on the third day, and Kagome approached, the demon lord lifted his head. "This time, I require a demon. A wild boar."

She stilled, eyes widening. He scented brief fear and uncertainty but she squashed it and bowed. "O-of course. Okay then...be back soon!"

Watching and remaining still as the miko's figure drew further away until it disappeared from sight, Sesshoumaru immediately stood and pursued. Keeping close to the shadows and withdrawing his youki so that his entire presence was erased, he moved with all the grace and patience of a prowling jungle cat. He stalked the woman at a distance, sometimes leaping soundlessly into the trees and observing from above.

Boar was perhaps the hardest kill he could have asked for. But he had not asked the impossible, as he'd scented one of the creatures not too far away. Asking for a regular wild boar was petty enough, asking for a demonic one was cruel even for him.

The forest lay still and quiet. Even the cicadas dared not chirp. He therefore heard every breath drawn into the girl's lungs. He could hear her heartbeat thud as she knelt to touch some tracks left behind.

"Sango, please lend me your strength," she murmured.

Kagome then drew her bow, notching an arrow loosely and bending her knees to keep low. She tracked the beast for a few minutes, until loud snuffling noises could be heard. Ducking behind a tree, she took a breath to calm herself.

The Daiyoukai's pupils dilated the second she shifted and aimed through the trees, firing. A terrible cry deafened his ears, echoing through the branches. A rumbling, crashing thunder soon stormed through the bushes. A force like that of a hurricane felled trees, cracking trunks and sending undergrowth flying. Kagome turned tail and ran.

Sesshoumaru lept onto a different tree, watching the squealing, incensed boar crash through the area. It was larger than a bear and putrid purple in colour. An arrow jutted out of its side, not deep enough to make it limp, merely enrage. He watched as Kagome dove for cover under a tree and the boar missed her location by mere inches.

Does she even have a plan?

Perhaps she was like Inuyasha and merely aimed blindly. No, he'd seen proof that it was not so.

The boar turned, kicking up earth as it started charging back, hooves thudding on the ground. Kagome picked herself up and once more ran for her life, panting and hurrying through the forest. Sesshoumaru followed, noticing when she made a beeline for a thicker tree, zig-zagging around it before hiding in some bushes.

Squeals and snorting signalled her pursuers approach, the ground pounding with its weight. The boar charged with full force and rammed into the tree, perhaps expecting it to topple. Unlike the others though, it's bark merely shuddered. The boar cried out with outrage, tusks caught deep in the wood as it struggled to lodge itself free.

Kagome then stood, aiming and firing directly into its left eye.

And then it was over.

Sesshoumaru did not know why he smiled slightly, exhilarated just from watching, but he understood now. This tree was the one she'd passed on her way to find the boar. She'd deliberately led it in her desired direction after taking account both their sizes, essentially laying a trap without a rope in sight.

Adaptable girl. Sesshoumaru took his leave, returning to where she'd left him in the clearing. Soon enough, she stumbled out of the bushes.

Her face was red, like she'd run a mile. He spied a scrape on her bloodied knee.

"... It's- hah- that-" she swallowed, panting. "That-way," a trembling finger jabbed behind her.

Sesshoumaru smoothly rose and innocently went to investigate. After 'discovering' the beast, he'd promptly transformed and devoured the hearty meal, soon returning to her fatigued form.

"Was it good?" She mumbled, still recovering.

A noise of faint amusement escaped him before he realised it. "Acceptable."

Kagome burst into exasperated giggles, leaning forward and planting her hands on her knees. "Urgh, are you seriously not tempted by my hunting prowess?"

Sesshoumaru's attention slid over her cleavage visible thanks to the position. His blood raced a little quicker, realising that she was indeed bent over, panting. If he just pictured himself behind her-

Sesshoumaru shook himself, gritting sharp teeth. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she'd planned thi-

She smiled at him. A knowing look curved her pink lips.

Golden eyes narrowed, before he stepped closer.

"S-sorry," Kagome straightened, and he could hear her rapid heartbeat. The want for him was a dizzying sensation she kept trying to suppress. She even seemed frustrated with herself. Sesshoumaru tossed his head, eyes bleeding red as heat rustled silk clothing as he approached.

"You knew exactly what you were doing just now, words will not suffice." He did not know why he allowed his voice to curl and deepen into a velvety timbre. Another challenge directed to her, perhaps. He merely wanted to see what she'd do. His curiosity demanded to be sated.

Pale cheeks darkened. "A-ah, well then...will you let me apologise to you properly?"

Sesshoumaru stopped, pausing on the precipice of something. Instincts clawed at him, different desires biting at one another. In the end, he nodded stiffly.

Kagome bridged the gap between them slowly, drawing closer to the heat of his body. An exotic mix of citrus, raw spiritual power and an indescribable warmth rolled into one washed over his senses. Kagome's natural scent. Her nervous emotions were counterbalanced by hopefulness, palm settling on his wrist.

Sesshoumaru held still, as though carved from stone. With treacle immediacy, she rose up on tip-toe, gentle breath fanning over a striped cheek.

Then, the soft sensation of lips brushed the underside of his jaw. The Daiyoukai's abdomen jumped. Her proximity sent the blood in his veins to a frenzy; all rational thought fleeing. Every fibre of his being screamed to tilt his head down. To snap sharp, wanting teeth into her ear and say she was not forgiven. To selfishly demand more and more from her-

Kagome pulled away slightly, watching him carefully. "Did I do it right?" She asked softly.

His mouth opened to reply before a loud voice piped up from the bushes, words punctuated with harsh pants. "Mi Lord! Lord Sesshoumaruuuu!"

Sesshoumaru straightened, the woman ducking and running away, hurrying behind a tree. He rose a brow, but decided to leave her be, turning to Jaken as the kappa burst from the undergrowth. Leaves scattered into the air.

"Ah I finally found you," he sank to his knees, clutching the staff close.

"Jaken. Why are you here?"

He sweatdropped, swallowing. "W-well mi Lord. I-I-I regret to inform you that Rin doesn't seem to be doing too well. For some reason, she's bedridden with a fever!"

His eyes flashed with a luminous shine from the moon. "...And how did she gain such an affliction?"

Jaken's skin turned a sickly, paler green. "S-she was just playing outside among the flowers all day, I swear!" He cried. "I sent for a healer but they couldn't come, what should I do, mi Lord?"

Detecting no lie, Sesshoumaru's thoughts strayed to other healers. All of whom treated demonic ailments. He did not know any human ones, why would he have cause to?

"How long has she been sick for?" A woman's voice called out from behind the tree, causing Jaken to start.

Kagome showed herself, face slightly hidden by a hood. The pink clothing covered her arms and fell to her waist, though Sesshoumaru was not certain what it was called. She was always wearing strange things.

Protruding round eyes slid to the Daiyoukai who nodded once, urging Jaken to speak. "About two days. And who are you?" He sniffed.

"Nobody. I'll treat the girl," she said, awkwardly pulling the pink hood a little lower.

Forget strange clothes. The woman was strange herself. Why did she not want Jaken to know her identity? Sesshoumaru decided to ask later. If she aided Rin, then not revealing her secret was barely a price to pay.

Approaching Kagome, he slid his arm around her waist to prevent her from falling, gathering clouds of solid energy to their feet. She smiled from under her hood, relaxing into his side. Jaken cried out when they began to float up, quickly jumping and grabbing a trailing mokomoko as the group soared into the sky.

----

As discussed, Rin was found bedridden with a fever within one of the estates in the demon village, sweat clinging to her brow. Kagome pulled out a white box from her bag, opening it and taking out a long thin thing about the size of a chop-stick. Sesshoumaru watched as it was placed in Rin's mouth and a red line steadily rose up the item's middle.

"What is that?"

"I'm just taking her temperature. Can you have a servant fetch me some fresh water and ice?"

He nodded and padded away to demand it. Oddly, Sesshoumaru did not need to consult his instincts in leaving the priestess alone with Rin. He trusted the woman with his ward, knew her capable of caring for young to the best of her abilities. It felt separate from her courting him. Even Kagome did not pay him any mind throughout the night.

Despite not interfering, the Daiyoukai remained outside Rin's room in the gardens till daybreak, listening to the miko's soft murmurings.

"It's possible she may have come into contact with a plant or tree that irritated her skin and caused the fever. I wonder if they've bled any trees in the area or uh- chopped any down." Kagome mused when the sun had ascended over the horizon. She stood on the wooden porch, having slid back the door.

Though she appeared exhausted, when the miko pushed back her hood, relief was visible in the corners of her mouth.

He rose a brow from where he sat, one knee drawn up. "You are telling me a tree has harmed her?"

"It's possible she had an allergic reaction, what with the rash I found. I've broken the fever and given her some ointment. The servants have been told to re-apply it every couple of hours on the rash and keep her hydrated. She looks like she's through the worst of it now though."

"I see," he uttered stiffly, pausing and collecting his words onto his tongue slowly. "...Was she in danger?"

Kagome observed him, drawing her hands behind her back and stretching. "Where I'm from, it wouldn't be a big deal. But here, if left untreated she probably would have been suffering for longer and...I know her immune system is probably more sensitive to what I'm used to in my uh- village." She winced. "It's never fun to get the flu, but you don't have to freak out now."

"This Sesshoumaru was not 'freaking out,' and never would." He sniffed.

Kagome drew closer and patted his shoulder, smirking. "Mhm, you should get some sleep."

For once, he did not give a cool retort, instead watching as she retired back inside to rest. It was then the demon understood some small difference between Kagome and others who had attempted to court him.

She did not demand his attention at all hours. Rather, the miko moved within her own sphere of affection and duty to others. He was included in that space, but he did not feel hounded or caged.

Inhaling, he caught the faint remnants of her scent in the air, his muscles relaxing slightly. Standing, he decided to check on Rin with his own eyes before giving in to fatigue.

Padding into the quiet room, he looked at the child's sleeping figure. She had a cold compress over her forehead, the covers drawn back in favour of a thin sheet over her small body. Sesshoumaru glimpsed Kagome's bag on the floor, which had been carelessly left on its side, some contents spilling out.

She must have been too preoccupied with tending to Rin to notice.

Feeling as though he should at least do the bare minimum of kindness in return, he knelt, beginning to pack some things away. Turning his gaze to the interior of the bag, Sesshoumaru froze, face becoming a marble statue.

Slit pupils zeroed in on the slimmest glimpse of red and white, spying the honeycomb design. Reaching in, he pulled forth splendid silks, running a numb, sharp thumbnail over the crest of his House.

Emotion assaulted dazed senses. His throat constricted. It was an exact replica of the clothing he wore now. Singular in existence and spun from the spider youkai of the Eastern shores, a commissioned clothing from his Father. A gift he'd intended for Sesshoumaru's coming of age ceremony.

Rage spiked low in his abdomen, sending a thrill up his spine that made his teeth ache. Sesshoumaru's form blurred through the hallways, seeking the pleasant scent leftover in the air and tracking her down.

Soon enough, he stood over the sleeping woman who he'd kept company with for several days. A woman clearly hiding secrets. Sharp claws flexed at his side, before he reached down, gripping the material of her yukata and pulling- only to still once more when it bared the flesh of her shoulder.

Unlike when he'd seen it at the hot springs, her skin now bore an unmistakable scar of a mating mark.

[creaturefeatures-and-mysticyarns]

Gala (MLM)

Characters: Male ¼ Dragon, Male reader

Content Warnings: a few instances of mild language; making out; fade-to-black/implied sexytimes

Rating: Lime; or if you prefer non-fruit ratings we’ll go with M(ature)

Word Count: 2878

You sighed, resisting the urge to drop your head to the green silk-clothed table in front of you, and asking yourself for the third time that night what cosmic power you had angered to draw the short straw of representing your employer at the world’s dullest charity gala. The salads had only just been cleared away and there had already been four different speeches by ancient white men about how important these rare books were that needed preservation. Now one of the event organizers had just announced that there would be a five minute break between speakers and then the audience would be hearing from one of the preservation experts who had been selected for the project with an explanation of the process.

You rolled your eyes at the tittering jewel-toned gossips who thought they were being inconspicuous with their hands blocking their mouths from view, as if you didn’t know they were commenting on the fact that you were practically the only person attending the party without a plus one.

Black and white clad waiters circled the room, half of them placing large, heavy ceramic plates with about three forkfuls of some sort of odd vegetable and pasta dish in front of each seated guest, and the other half filling empty crystal wine glasses with a deep red wine that you suspected cost more per bottle than you made in a year, maybe two. The same event organizer that had spoken before was back on stage, listing the credentials of the restoration expert, someone named Reeves Ahura, who had so many specialized degrees that added letters to the end of his name that he may as well have had the whole alphabet, twice over. Finally, a polite smattering of applause signaled the end of the introduction. The audience sat in hushed silence for a moment before he came on stage, at which point a shocked gasp rippled through the room, enough to get your attention and make you look up from poking at the food before you.

Not wanting to be rude, especially since the rest of the audience was less than subtle and he seemed to be shifting uncomfortably because of it, you tried to stifle the gasp that rose up in your throat.

There was no other word that could describe Reeves Ahura than gorgeous. Clearly, he was somehow dragon, but, you suspected probably a draconic grandparent at the most. His broad-shouldered form perfectly filled out his cleanly-cut black tux and pale blue undershirt, which made the deep, blood-red of his scales seem all the sharper in contrast. Two horns protruded from each side of his temples, framing a slightly wild mane of curly brown hair that cascaded down to his shoulders (or possibly further, it was hard to tell from your place at the back of the room). His snout was the thing that most betrayed his mixed heritage, being much stubbier than that of the dragons and half-dragons you had met and blending more slightly into his rounded face rather than having a more distinct and prominent shape. Still, you thought it made his face more open and friendly which only added to his charm. He raked one four-fingered hand through his hair, knife-sharp black talons catching the stage lights, and began to speak. Despite having no actual interest in it, you found yourself hanging onto his every word, his smooth, sonorous voice as hypnotizing as his appearance.

All too soon for your liking, his speech was over, and he was walking off stage to tepid applause which quickly trailed off into an awkward silence. Quickly, someone came up and introduced the next speaker, and you let your focus drift for the rest of dinner. Following the four course, disappointingly small-portioned dinner, it was announced that there would be ninety minutes of dancing and then the evening would round out with a silent auction to raise more proceeds for the restoration project. You picked a spot in a corner and settled, leaning against the wall to wait until enough time passed to make it polite for you to leave, closing your eyes to try to enjoy the music without the distraction of too many dancers all following their own pattern of steps.

You weren’t sure how many minutes had passed when you felt a shadow move in front of you and someone cleared their throat. “Hello,” a familiar voice said.

Your eyes shot open and you stood up straighter with a jolt. Reeves was standing in front of you, smiling charmingly, sharp, pearly white fangs actually glinting in the lights of the banquet hall, and you found yourself imagining seeing that smile forever. You noticed immediately that he towered over you, and probably would have done the same to pretty much everyone in the room, but rather than intimidating you, it only made you feel more drawn to him.

“H…hi,” you squeaked, caught off-guard, and winced at the sound of your own nervousness.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you’re over here, unaccompanied and apparently disinterested in the evening’s festivities.” A claw raked through his hair as he spoke.

“Well, yeah. I mean, I’m just here because the company I work for donated a bunch of money to the project and needed to send a sacrifice…er, representative. Unlucky me.” You shrugged, trying to play it cooler than you felt.

He laughed. “If it was me in your shoes, I would have at least brought a date, try to impress them.”

“It was offered as an option, but since I have no one…”

“A handsome, unattached gentleman, hm? Well isn’t it my lucky night.”

“What?”

“Dance with me?” He held out a hand to you and you found yourself taking it.

He pulled you out onto the dance floor with a dramatic sweep before wrapping his other arm around your waist. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling of his hand on your hip, and you hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. Clearly he intended to lead you, and you were content to let him. The pair of you moved in smooth, dramatic loops of the floor, not showing off but not shying away from the attention either. Neither of you seemed inclined to speak, so you took the opportunity to study him further. Up close you could see that his scales glittered in the light, as if someone had dusted over the red with a fine golden powder. His ebony horns were similarly gold-flecked.  A long tail trailed down, close to his body, and brushed the floor like the trains of many of the ladies’ dresses. As one song transitioned into another, his hand gripped your hip a little tighter, guiding your bodies closer until they almost touched, only a hair’s breadth between you.

Several songs later, he cleared his throat again.

“I’ll keep dancing like this all night,” he practically purred, leaning down to speak softly directly into your ear. “But if we’re going to do that, we should get to know each other.”

You nodded and gulped, your mouth suddenly dry and all words gone from your mind.

He chuckled. “No need to be nervous, handsome. I’m not talking about life stories. Hell, I’d be content with just your name if that’s all you wanted.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart and get your head back under control.

“Right, sorry,” you smiled sheepishly and introduced yourself and then trailed off into silence again.

“If you’re just trying to be polite, you can tell me and we’ll part ways. I won’t be offended.”

“No!” you both flinched at how loud your voice suddenly seemed. “It’s not that…I’m just…trying to figure out how I went from being absolutely miserable on a work assignment to dancing with the most gorgeous person in the room.”

He ducked his head, a mix of bashful and playful. “That’s twice now you’ve brought up work tonight, what is it exactly that you do? So I know what company to be grateful to for bringing us together.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm with a blush. “I work at Sanger and Durst, you know, the…” you frowned, pressing your lips together while you tried to work out a polite way to phrase what your employers did.

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t meet many people who deal in cybernetics. And I’m a bit surprised they have an interest in preserving antiques.”

“They don’t, per se. But they’re trying to build up a bit of a better public image, so they’re dropping money on a lot of charities and sending employees to make appearances at major events.” You shrugged. “I don’t plan to work for them forever, but I’m trying to make the best of it while I’m there.”

“By going to boring charity galas you have no personal stake in?”

“They pay time and a half for it.”

He pouted dramatically. “I’m hurt you didn’t tell me that you were here because you’re secretly fascinated by the art of restoration or the history of ancient religious and magical texts.”

“Well I’m not about to lie in order to stoke the ego of a stranger.”

He dipped his head low again and his voice had taken on a distinctly husky tone when he whispered, “and what if we stopped being strangers?”

You swallowed heavily. “Well, then I’d say this evening turned out even better than I hoped.”

He smiled wolfishly at you but returned to dancing as if nothing had happened and leaving you utterly confused. Over the course of several songs, you began to notice that the pair of you had moved away from the center of the floor where you began, edging closer and closer to the exit of the hall. You raised an eyebrow at him and he winked before tilting his head upward to glance around the room. Satisfied with whatever he saw, or didn’t see perhaps, he dropped the pretense of dancing and gently tugged you through the open double doors. You followed behind as he led you around a corner and through another door. Only the light from behind you shone in, but you could tell he had led you to the coatroom, though it was mostly unused, given the warm summer night.

You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing but were cut off by him crashing his lips to yours. His hands came up to frame your face and he seemed to mold to you, backing you up until your back was pressed to the wall. Almost on reflex you pushed back as if trying to prevent even the slightest wisp from passing between your bodies. You heard a click as he pushed the door closed with his tail, plunging the room into almost complete darkness.

Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, tugging gently. He responded by growling against your mouth and moving one hand down to your neck. Even without pressure, the roughness of the minute scales on his palm and the fingers curled around your throat caused a shiver down your spine and you groaned, parting your lips. He snatched at the opportunity you presented and quickly your kiss became a passionate battle for dominance, as much teeth and tongue as lips.

Your lungs practically screamed for air before you parted. He smirked at you, moving away from your mouth to trail down your jaw and nip at the soft skin behind your ear. Unwilling to let him be the one with all the control you rolled your hips against him to put him off guard, causing a groan that almost sounded like a growl, and then spun the pair of you so that he was the one pinned against the wall, your legs intertwined and bodies pressed impossibly tighter together. Your lips came back together and hands roamed inquisitively over each other’s bodies as if mapping every curve and plane. You gasped when you suddenly felt something else wrap around your waist, stroking your backside a few times before giving a gentle smack. You jerked away from him, startled, and he chuckled, making you realize that it was his tail.

“Reeves,” you whispered breathily. “How secure is this closet?”

“It’s another hour before anyone’s going to leave. The staff will wait until the last possible minute before sending someone to man this place. We should be alone for a while.”

“Good,” you sighed, guiding him out of his suit jacket before bringing your fingers up shakily to pull at his bowtie.

As you continued to undress him, you pressed gentle kisses to his jawline, neck, and every new inch of skin exposed by the undoing of a shirt button, marveling at the rough feeling of his scaled skin under your lips. When you pulled off his belt and moved to unzip his trousers, he made a clucking noise with is tongue and pulled you back to him.

“Oh no, handsome, I’m not about to let you expose me completely while you get to stand there fully clothed and dignified,” he teased before pinning you to the wall again and kissing you heartily.

He was far less cautious and slow when it came to undressing you than you had been with him. In fact, you were almost certain that you felt some of your shirt buttons pop as he tugged at your clothes, but you found yourself unable to care, too wrapped up in the feeling of him sucking at your pulse point and his hands travelling lower and lower down your body. When he’d gotten you down to your boxers, kicking off his own pants to match at some wholly unnoticed point, he paused. He brought his hands up to plant them on either side of your head and placed more distance between you than there had been since the moment you met.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked softly. “We can stop here, no questions, if you’re not absolutely certain.”

You leaned toward him and noticed that he shifted to keep the distance between you. “I want this,” you whispered, “I want you. Do you want this too?”

“Gods above and below, yes,” he groaned. “I want you so bloody much it hurts.”

You smiled coyly. “Then take me. I’m yours, any way and every way you want.”

Evidently, that was all he needed to hear because he practically fell on you with a growl. If you thought it had been intense up until then, it was nothing compared to the feelings and sensations and ecstasy that passed between you from that point on.

All too soon, you parted to redress, knowing that your time was up and you needed to make yourselves decent and make an escape from the coat closet.

“So,” he said, passing your suit jacket to you without turning around, as if he was afraid to meet your eyes.

“So?” You questioned, letting your fingers brush the inside of his wrist as you took it from it and frowning at his resulting flinch.

“Is this the part where we walk away, never speak again?” A pin drop would have sounded like canon fire in the deafening silence that followed.

“Is that what you want?” you asked eventually, trying, and failing, to hide the hurt in your voice.

He shook his head sharply. “No. It’s not what I want at all. But to ask for what I want would be presumptuous and you wouldn’t be the first person in the world to hook up with a stranger just to liven up a boring party.”

“Reeves,” you said as you moved back over to him and slid your arms around his waist, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder blade through the material of his silky dress shirt.

“I think I like you a lot,” you mumbled into his back. “If nothing else, tonight made me want to get to know you better.”

“I don’t know, I think we got to know each other quite well just now,” he joked ask he turned around to face you.

You rolled your eyes. “I meant on the inside,” you held up a warning finger, “don’t say it.”

He pouted dramatically at you as you crossed over the threshold of the closet and headed back down the hall to the exit, following close behind you and twining your fingers together.

“I want to know more about you than that you’re incredibly smart and unfairly gorgeous and apparently able to find the innuendo in anything. If you’ll let me, I want to learn everything.”

He smiled brightly then. “I like the sound of that. I like it a lot. Can we start over dinner tomorrow night?”

You nodded and returned his grin with one of your own. “Perfect. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you sighed, pulling apart from him. “I have to go pace and hop around like an idiot until I can find enough signal to call an Uber back to my apartment.”

He reached out, a gentle hand curling around your wrist as you raised your phone in the air to pull you back to him and kiss you fiercely.

“Or,” he said, his lips brushing yours, “you could come home with me?”