#if said oc i made back then was a canon character i can pinpoint the exact reasons she would've been crucified by the fandom | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vosh-rakh · 2 years ago

Text

means and ends

author’s note: every character in here, aside from my ocs ku-vastei and llethym, and the made-up amiliah dren, is a canon character in-game, even down to the nameless “npcs”. i did a lot of research for this fic lol. some of them have different positions/roles than they do in game, mostly owing to the passing of time and intervening events, as well as some artistic liberty. i’ve been working on this fic for a long time, and it’s quite a bit longer than my usual work, but i’m very proud of it, and i hope you enjoy it as well!

- - - - -

“I hope you see the problem here, Mistress Darvasa.”

The Adebaal Egg Mine is dimly lit by glowing egg-sacs, which cast a grave light on Ku-vastei’s face. The new master of Tel Branora, Darvasa Vedas, is glad for her flowing robes, and the slight breeze passing through the tunnels, that her quivering before the Archmagister is not visible. An Argonian wearing a slave bracer tends to a nearby kwama worker, pretending not to listen.

“Yes, well, Archmagister, you see…” began Darvasa, “we had purchased them before the ban had gone into effect, so we had thought -”

“Do not lie to me, Darvasa,” whispered Ku-vastei, her voice like the steel in her hand. “I’ve seen the deeds of sale. Besides, the ban on slavery was retroactive. It is also emancipatory.” The nearby Argonian slave perks their head up slightly, unable to hide their curiosity.

Darvasa is no longer sure she can hide her shaking. “Yes, yes, of course, Archmagister, but we needed workers for the mine, as you well know it is a major source of income for the tower, and not long before Therana’s untimely death somebody freed the slaves who had been working here previously, so we needed -”

“Yes, I know,” says Ku-vastei. She leans back a little and places her free hand on her hip. “I was the one who freed them.”

The enslaved Argonian can’t help but turn their head towards the free Argonian, and completely forgets about the kwama worker. But their attention is stolen again when the worker headbutts them.

Darvasa’s jaw dropped. “Before the ban went into effect?”

“The ban retroactively justifies my actions.”

Darvasa’s eyes close. “What shall I do, then, Archmagister?”

“Either free the slaves, or hire them as hirelings to the House and pay them fairly for their labor. I care not which, but the latter would likely benefit you in the long run.” Darvasa opens her eyes, and can barely see Ku-vastei’s lips move in the darkness; she appears as a scaled statue, leaning on an ancient spear, meting out divine judgment upon the mortals of House Telvanni.

“But…” Darvasa begins, but quickly changes her tune. “Yes, Archmagister, of course. I will hire them to the House.”

“Ensure they are treated as any other member of the House, Darvasa. And if this happens again, know that I will kill you.”

“Yes, Archmagister,” Darvasa says, bowing too low in presumed deference.

“One more thing,” says Ku-vastei as she turns to leave. “Where did you purchase these slaves?”

Darvasa straightens into a stiff line. “Oh, please don’t make me say,” she begs. “They said they’d kill me if I did.”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t.” The Archmagister swings her spear in a small circle as she turns back, pointing it nonchalantly at Darvasa from a distance. But the physical threat isn’t necessary - the words themselves drip with such authority that the young Mistress can’t help but fear them.

Darvasa bites her lip and nearly collapses from how her legs shake. “Yes…yes, Archmagister. I bought them from…”

“Tel Aruhn?” Aryon asks as he and the Archmagister retreat to Tel Uvirith. “That’s impossible. We took care of the market there personally.”

Ku nods, remembering the bloodshed as a vivid red pinpoint in the recent past. “She wouldn’t say anything more.” She wipes ash from her eyes, kicked up from her shuffling through the dunes. “Apparently she had nothing to do with the purchase directly. We’ll have to investigate further.”

“You’ve shown unusual…restraint, in dealing with this so far, Archmagister.” Aryon walks ahead of Ku-vastei, proceeding backwards as he studies her face. His fierce brow furrows over his fire-red eyes. “You haven’t killed anyone yet.”

Ku smiles faintly. “We can’t be a House of murderers forever, Aryon. One of these days we’ll resolve most of our issues peacefully.”

Aryon grins, but there’s a concerned note to his voice when he asks, “Am I speaking to the true Hortator? Ku-vastei, bringer of fire and war?”

“In the times before slavery, Black Marsh operated similarly. War was an import from Resdayn.”

“I’m not sure history supports that claim,” Aryon says, returning to his place alongside Ku-vastei. “War is an integral facet of all cultures.”

“Regardless, perhaps it needn’t be.”

“Ever the idealist, Archmagister.” Aryon pats Ku-vastei on the back, but she doesn’t recoil from the touch. Strange future, she thinks, in which an elf - any elf - can touch my back without losing their hand.

When they arrive at Tel Uvirith, they are greeted by the Erabenimsun scouts who delivered Ku-vastei’s guest.

“Ilmeni Dren,” says Ku-vastei, bowing her head slightly. She glances at the Erabenimsun, who depart for their camp.

“Archmagister,” replies Ilmeni, who had been examining the fungal walls of the tower. She wipes her hands of the external dirt and turns to curtsy in the Imperial way. “Your reputation precedes you, both as Hortator and Ku-vastei, muthsera.” She says Ku’s name with a curious lilt, not quite the bizarre intonation of an elf attempting to speak Jel, but not quite the natural pronunciation of a born-speaker. It seems to suggest something beyond mere familiarity, but Ku-vastei can’t fathom what.

“As does yours, ‘lighter of the Twin Lamps.’ I hope we can work together to free Telvanni, and hopefully one day all of Morrowind, of the curse of slavery.”

“We’ll see, muthsera,” says Ilmeni, before turning to Aryon. Strange. That same hidden meaning. Oh well, Ku-vastei figures. I’ll discover it eventually. “And you are, muthsera?”

Aryon extends a soft, gloved hand. “Master Aryon of House Telvanni, oftentime companion to Ku-vastei. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Dren.”

“Oh, dispose of the pleasantries, would you?” Ilmeni smiles warmly, taking Aryon’s hand. “Nobody’s called me ‘Lady’ Dren in years. You can just call me Ilmeni.” She flashes a glance at Ku-vastei. “Or beeko, if it suits you.”

“Not so fast,” says Ku-vastei, returning a wry smile as she leans heavily on the Spear of Bitter Mercy. But hearing the Jel word disarms her slightly. She doesn’t feel the need to be quite so reticent around this particular Hlaalu.

“I understand not all is well in House Telvanni,” Ilmeni observes, taking a careful step back to lean against the wall of the tower.

“Yes. Why I’ve summoned you,” Ku says. “Not only has someone purchased slaves, but someone has been selling them, too.”

“Have you any suspects?”

“The buyer has been identified, and dealt with.”

“Dealt with?” Ilmeni narrows her eyes and crosses her arms. When Ku first met her, she wore commoner’s clothes, but she seems to have elected to dress for the occasion of meeting the head of a House, wearing a spotless blue robe.

“She’s still alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” chimes in Aryon before Ku can react. “She’ll be freeing the slaves soon, if she hasn’t already.” Aryon seems to understand the mystery behind Ilmeni’s attitude whereas Ku-vastei does not. She’ll have to ask him about it if they get a spare moment, away from the Hlaalu.

Ilmeni sighs. “And the sellers?”

“Someone in Tel Aruhn,” Ku-vastei grumbles. “The old slavemistress is dead, as are her compatriots. So we’re not sure.”

“Dead?” Ilmeni asks.

“Yes. I killed them.” Suddenly, it dawns on Ku-vastei, and she smiles wickedly wide, her reptilian face almost snarling. “Is that a problem?”

Ilmeni looks down and shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. “That is the way of the Telvanni,” she says, then, under her breath, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“It is our way,” Ku says, not hearing quite what Ilmeni said but guessing the meaning, “and we’ll be sticking with it, for now. Just think of it like the Tong.”

Ilmeni looks up glumly. “I still don’t approve of the Camonna, no matter how reformed it may be under our new Grandmaster.”

“I meant the Morag,” says Ku-vastei. “I am Grandmaster of that order, after all. I know about honorable killing.”

Ilmeni gasps. “I thought Eno Hlaalu was Grandmaster?”

“Eno retired.”

Ilmeni steps forward. “Do you mean you -”

“No.” Ku raises a hand to stop the Dren’s advance. “He retired.”

“Oh.”

Aryon pinches the bridge of his nose. This is going to be a long day.

They teleport into Wolverine Hall’s courtyard with a crack as the air makes way for their presence. Aryon and Ku stomach it well, but Ilmeni wavers for a moment, then politely asks for a bucket. A nearby guard politely obliges. Aryon and Ku politely ignore her retching.

They walk slowly through Sadrith Mora, Ilmeni gawking at the mushroom homes, and at great Tel Naga. Some of the town’s residents give reverent bows to Ku-vastei, while others hide behind doors. As they pass near the Gateway Inn, they overhear an argument coming from the adjacent marketplace:

“I need these potions now!” exclaims a Dunmer, a mainlander from his lack of the coarse Vvardenfell accent.

Elegal, a Bosmeri trader Ku-vastei recognizes from her time spent in the city, smiles patiently and plants his hands on his table, his shoulders tightly bunched together. “Sera, I simply do not have any. You should have planned ahead.”

“But…I must have this potion! I have to see Master Neloth!” the Dunmer repeats, gesticulating wildly, exasperated.

“You could try the alchemist. Or apothecary. Or healer.” Elegal steps from behind his table and walks around to his irate customer. “I’ll even show you to one of them, if you’re lost.”

The mainlander quickly steps towards Elegal, shouting louder. “They won’t deal with me! Without your damn ‘Hospitality Papers’ that your Thrice-damned ‘Prefect’ won’t give me!”

Elegal smiles thinly. “Perhaps old Angaredhel doesn’t think you worthy of our hospitality,” he says, looking up at the Dunmer.

“You n’wah!” The Dunmer winds up his arm to sock Elegal in the face -

But something catches his wrist. A scaled hand firmly wraps itself around his cuff, keeping him from landing his blow.

“Oh,” he yells, spinning around, “and who is this animal laying hands on me - Oh.” He stops when he sees Ku-vastei, in her robes of Archmagister station, still holding onto his wrist. “Oh, by the Three.” He sways for a moment before his legs give way and he falls to his knees. “Please forgive me, Archmagister, I had no idea - I never meant to cause any trouble, I just needed to…” He stops his pleading, closes his eyes, and awaits his judgment, his hand still caught by Ku-vastei.

But something is gently placed into it, and his fingers pushed to wrap around it. He opens his teary eyes and looks blurrily up at Ku-vastei. “Archmagister?”

“Rising Force potion. Made it myself,” she says. “Apologize to this man, and then go do your business with Neloth.”

The Dunmer swears by every saint he can remember, thanking Ku-vastei and apologizing profusely to Elegal. Then he awkwardly walks away towards Tel Naga.

Aryon smiles, but Ilmeni wrinkles her face. “Not quite the Archmagister - nor Hortator - I’d heard tales of,” she whispers to him.

“She can be a gracious leader when she wants to be,” Aryon replies. “What kind did you expect?”

“I expect,” she said, quickly finishing her thought before Ku-vastei returns, “that we will find out today.”

Ku-vastei, Aryon, and Ilmeni pass through the circular gate at the Gateway Inn and proceed to the docks, where they charter a ship to cross the clear blue waters to Tel Aruhn. When they arrive, they are greeted warmly by Magister Endase Avel and a small entourage of her subjects, come to see the Archmagister of House Telvanni.

“Welcome, muthsera!” exclaims Endase, her yellow, red, and golden robes exquisite in the bright sun of the Zafirbel Bay. “It is a pleasure to have you here at Tel Aruhn, Archmagister Ku-vastei.” She spreads her arms wide with entreaty, then reaches out a hand. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

Ku-vastei says nothing, but glowers at the new Magister. Aryon picks up the slack: “We’re here for an inspection, Endase. To ensure that this tower is complying with the ban.”

Endase smiles. “Yes, yes, of course, Aryon. And you are?” She gestures vaguely towards Ilmeni.

Ilmeni opens her mouth to speak, but she stops after Ku-vastei shakes her head. So she simply says, “An associate of the Archmagister’s.”

Endase tilts her head curiously, but doesn’t prod further. “Very well.” She points in the direction the former site of the slave market. “I shall lead the way. You may inspect the underground, as well. I assure you everything is very above-board here at Tel Aruhn.”

As soon as Endase turns her back, Ilmeni wrinkles her face and leans in to Ku-vastei’s ear. “Don’t trust her. She’s a snake.”

Ku laughs quietly. “How would you know?”

“Plenty of people like that in House Hlaalu. Not hard to spot if you know what to look for.”

The inspection is spotless. No signs of slaver activity, not a single bracer to be found. There are even some Argonians and Khajiit in the honest employ of the tower. Ku-vastei seems satisfied. Aryon wears a patient smile throughout. But Ilmeni keeps her arms loosely crossed the entire time.

When all is said and done, Endase asks, “Could I trouble you with tea? You must be dehydrated after your long journey.”

Ku-vastei almost accepts the offer, but a subtle glance from Aryon persuades her not to. “No thank you,” she replies. “I have other business I must attend to here. Privately,” she quickly adds.

“Of course,” says Endase, whose painted face is marred by a slight frown. “Don’t let me keep you.” Then she casts a spell, and flies to her tower. The crowd disperses somewhat.

Ku-vastei turns towards her companions. “Well?”

Aryon says nothing, and turns towards Ilmeni. She shakes her head. “It must be offsite somewhere.” She looks around, as though she’d be able to see a hidden slave market at a glance. “Ask some of the locals. Especially the beastfolk. They might be more open to answering your questions.”

Ku-vastei’s eyes scan the scattering throng. Tel Aruhn is a diverse place, home to many different peoples, but few beyond tower-servants seem to be beastfolk. But she catches a pair of eyes unmoving, making direct eye-contact. Slitted eyes. She begins to push her way through the bodies, making her way to them.

She finds a smiling Khajiit, tiger-striped and -maned, his arms wide open. “Ah, yes, S’Bakha has been expecting you,” he purrs.

“Expecting me?” Ku-vastei does not yet take up his offer of a hug.

“Well, this one knows exactly what you are here for. It is not difficult to guess. S’Bakha was a slave once, you know. S’Bakha worked hard all the time, and for what? Nothing at all. So now that S’Bakha has dropped his bracer, he rests. He lays around and lounges until his belly rumbles, and then he finds a tasty fish to eat out of these bountiful waters. It is good to be lazy, S’Bakha thinks.”

(These waters are far from bountiful, Ku-vastei mentally notes, being filled with mostly-inedible slaughterfish, but allows the Khajiit to tell his lie as he sees fit.)

“That is good to hear,” says Ku-vastei when S’Bakha takes a moment to breathe, smiling. “But please get to the point.”

“Of course, Ku-vastei,” S’Bakha grants, dipping into a brief bow. “The point is that while laying around all day, people forget S’Bakha is there. Or they think him asleep. And they speak as if he is not there. Many secrets they speak, and S’Bakha hears them all.”

“And pray tell, what secret do you have for us,” Aryon asks, “and what will it cost us?”

S’Bakha turns to the newly arrived Aryon, and shakes his head furiously. “Wise you are, elf, to question S’Bakha’s motives. But S’Bakha asks nothing in return for his generous offer of help.”

He pauses for a moment, and Ku-vastei is about to prompt him again when he continues, leaning in to whisper: “S’Bakha’s secret for you is this. They are kept and sold at a place they call Nammu along the mainland coast to the west of here. Tell none S’Bakha sent you, or he will surely be killed.”

Ku-vastei rubs her chin in contemplation, her tail swishing leisurely from side to side, brushing against Aryon and Ilmeni’s ankles. “Oh,” she begins after some time, “I don’t think that will be a problem. Because you’re coming with us.”

“Eh?” S’Bakha spits, his fur pricking up and his own tail setting straight. “You know S’Bakha can’t swim like you Argonians, right? Not even like a dark elf. Not very…smooth.”

“Oh, that won’t be an issue,” Ku-vastei says with a wicked smile.

S’Bakha had expected she meant they’d be taking a boat. Instead they walk on the water like sainted thaumaturges, and S’Bakha takes each step tenderly, like each one might fall through the taut surface of the sea. But Ku-vastei and Aryon, confident in their spellwork, stride across like it was a well-worn road. Even Ilmeni has played with water-walking potions in her youth, and is accustomed to the feeling.

S’Bakha begins to wish he’d kept his mouth shut.

They stop at a couple of islands along the way to renew their spells and rest, taking shade against the midday sun under Emperor Parasols. S’Bakha frets with his tail, at times cradling it like a newborn.

“Worried, S’Bakha?” asks Ku-vastei, watching him intently.

“Yes, actually,” answers S’Bakha. “S’Bakha imagines it is quite difficult to laze about with his guts scattered around him.”

“You’ll be fine. Everyone who might come after you will be taken care of,” Ku-vastei says, while Ilmeni frowns at this phrasing, “before day’s end.”

“That is,” Ilmeni adds, “assuming you’ve told us the truth.”

Ku-vastei glances wearily at Ilmeni. “I’m sure he has, of course.” Her eyes glide over to meet S’Bakha’s, who shies away from the contact. “Haven’t you, S’Bakha?”

“Of course,” S’Bakha quavers. But he remains silent the rest of the way.

They come to the mainland coast just as their most recent spells wear off, and S’Bakha says, “Here.”

“Here” is a small pool of water, disconnected from the sea, interspersed with large stones breaking the surface. There is a small cliff on the far side, but its face is sheer. There is no apparent entrance.

“S’Bakha,” Ku-vastei says, “What are we looking for?”

“S’Bakha doesn’t know,” he says. “It should be here.”

“Well, it’s not.” Ku grips her spear tightly in her claws.

Ilmeni stands to the side and looks around. “Hm,” she whispers, and she takes a cautious step towards one of the stones in the pool. Her foot lands firmly on its surface, not sinking at all. So she steps towards the next, and the next, until she finds herself at the cliff face. Ku-vastei is busy arguing with S’Bakha, but Aryon notices Ilmeni’s stunts and places a hand on Ku’s shoulder. She spins around on him, nearly poking him with her spear, but he simply points towards Ilmeni, who is now running her hands along the cliff’s surface, searching for something.

“Is there anything there?” Aryon calls out. “Some button perhaps?”

“Not that I can find,” Ilmeni returns. “But it looks like there should be something here.”

“S’Bakha told you so!” the Khajiit exclaims, earning him a scathing glance from Ku-vastei.

“‘Should’ doesn’t mean that there is, Ilmeni,” Ku notes.

“Perhaps there’s some kind of illusion, or enchantment upon the rocks,” Aryon says. “Endase is a skilled enchantress, after all.”

Ku-vastei tilts her head in acknowledgement, and runs her claws in front of her eyes, leaving behind a pale purple glow which slowly dissipates.

When she can see again, plain as day, she sees a door embedded in the rock.

Ku-vastei treads the stepping stones towards the door, meeting Ilmeni there. She tries the doorknob, but can’t find it. “Yes,” she says, “an enchantment. Not an illusion.” She starts to rummage through her bag.

“Do you have a solution for this in there?” Ilmeni asks.

“Sometimes,” Ku begins, pulling out various items, “a sloppy enchantment can be undone by a spell similar to soul trapping. I’ve done it once or twice to even the odds in battle against troublesome belts and rings.” Finally she retrieves a soul gem, its azure surface almost completely transparent. “Ah. This should do. You may want to step back.”

Ilmeni complies, stepping out towards the edge of the pool. Ku-vastei first taps the soul gem on the surface of the hidden door, mutters something Daedric, then steps back, soul gem raised in the air; it seems like an incredible effort, like the wall is pulling against her arm. Violet flecks suspended in paler light are ripped from the cliff face and absorbed into the soul gem, revealing piece-by-piece the door hidden beneath, until all is laid bare, and the soul gem glows with a milky lilac light.

“Some enchantress this Endase is,” Ku-vastei snickers.

“So shall we take care of this?” Aryon asks, having crossed himself to the other side of the pool by the door.

“S’Bakha is not going in there,” the Khajiit says, waving his hands in negation. “The leader is a battlemage, called Galmis Dren, who is dark in the craft, and -”

“Galmis?” Ilmeni interrupts. “No, you are not ‘taking care of’ my cousin.” She remembers back to when she heard Orvas was killed by the fledgeling Hortator, and remembers how she imagined what it would be like if it had been her father, instead.

She steps forward to confront Ku-vastei and repeats, “No, you are not killing Galmis, like you did to his father. You can arrest him, like a civilized person.”

“Your ‘cousin’?” Ku-vastei observes with a smug smile. “Does slavery run in the family, then?”

Ilmeni says nothing, holding her ground as she steps towards Ku-vastei again, only inches between their faces.

“Ah,” says Aryon. “The late Orvas’ eldest son. A high-ranking member of the Camonna Tong, if memory serves.”

“This killing is the way of your people, Ilmeni,” Ku-vastei says, ignoring Aryon and placing a hand between herself and Ilmeni. “He chose his fate.”

Ilmeni stares furiously into Ku-vastei’s eyes for a long time, but finds no relief. So, her eyes wet from the strain of not blinking, she turns her head away.

“Since you two will be staying behind, we’ll need to make sure you’re well protected,” Ku-vastei says, smiling at her easy victory. “Aryon, your Helper will do the trick.”

Aryon nods and extends his right hand. His glove glows yellow for a moment, and then suddenly, in a cloud of xanthous smoke, a trio of atronachs appear, representing each Daedric element. “Protect Ilmeni and S’Bakha, please,” he asks of the three, who each wordlessly bow to the best of their forms’ ability.

“Do not follow us or try to interfere in any way,” Ku-vastei says as she holds the doorknob, glancing at Ilmeni, “or I’ll kill you too.”

“Ku.” Aryon rests a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugs it off. “Let’s just get going.”

The cavern is dark, dimly lit by the rare sight of a torch ensconced on the stone walls. Ku-vastei takes the lead, Aryon following soon behind.

Not far down the initial corridor, their footsteps bring attention to them. “Hello?” calls a woman’s voice. “Mistress Endase? Here for your inspection so soon? I thought it wasn’t for another…”

The two delvers reach the bottom of a decline, revealing themselves to the Redguard. She yells something in what Ku vaguely recognizes as Yoku and draws her sword. Ku springs forward, launching herself at her attacker. The Redguard slashes at Ku, but only ends up cutting her robes and clattering against the fine Orcish maille hidden beneath. Her jaw drops in shock at this reckless defense, and Ku uses the opportunity to pierce her throat from between her teeth.

There’s another defender, a Dunmer archer on a raised platform to the right, who seems to have been caught off guard practicing her archery on a stuffed target. She yells something in Yoku, her accent poor even to Ku’s untrained ear, and draws her bow, pointing her arrow at Ku-vastei. But Ku-vastei ducks nimbly to the side and avoids the shot. The Dunmer reaches for another arrow, but can’t find one in her quiver. She runs to the target to retrieve more, but Aryon flings a fireball at her before she makes it halfway there. She stumbles, sways backwards, then falls forward against the practice target.

There’s a bridge from the raised platform that connects to another tunnel on the right, but Ku-vastei is more interested in the tunnel directly ahead of them. “Split up?” she asks Aryon. He nods, and begins climbing the stairs to take on the rightward passage.

Ku-vastei plods forward through the tunnel, quickly meeting another defender. He’s unarmored and armed with only a pitiful dagger, and she’s able to dispatch him with a swift thrust from a distance. She continues on before reaching a massive chamber, with a ceiling so high Ku-vastei can’t see it in the darkness. From the center of a small lake rises a massive pillar, wrapped around with stairs towards a platform near the top.

“Come and get me,” a voice calls out from the spire, “you n’wah!”

Ku-vastei obliges the request, sprinting to the top of the tower. She’s nearly out of breath when she arrives, and sees a man who can only be Galmis Dren, his face obscured by a Dwemer helm. He’s holding a Khajiit slave by the collar over the edge of the platform. He wags his free finger. “Think long and hard about approaching me, n’wah,” he says, and Ku-vastei can hear the wicked smile calling out from beneath the helmet.

Ku-vastei stops in her tracks for a moment, calculating.

She marches ahead anyway.

“Bad idea,” Galmis tuts, and lets go of the Khajiit, who falls screaming towards the water below.

Then Ku-vastei runs towards Galmis. He begins to cast some spell, but it misses as Ku-vastei runs past him, and leaps from the ledge into the darkness.

She dives, trying to catch up, but sees the terror on the Khajiit’s face as she plummets and falls beneath the surface of the water. Soon after Ku-vastei breaks the surface herself, and beelines her way to the bottom, where the Khajiit’s slave bracer has weighed her down. She wraps her arms around her frail furry body and starts to kick her way up to the surface.

Once she arrives, she swims over to the platform where she first entered the chamber, and lays the Khajiit on her side, letting her cough up water from her lungs. Finally, the Khajiit finds the energy to speak: “Thank you, muthsera.”

“Are you alright?” asks Ku-vastei.

“Yes, this one will be fine,” she says, before coughing up another bit of water.

Satisfied, Ku-vastei runs back up the tower, but does not find Galmis. She takes the short way back down and swims back to the platform where the Khajiit is. By this time, Aryon has arrived, accompanied by a small gaggle of assorted slaves.

“Aryon,” she begins, her entire body burning from the running and climbing, “Did you see him leave?”

“No,” Aryon says simply, tending to one of the slaves. “But I could have missed him.”

Then they both look at each other as Ku-vastei says, “Ilmeni.”

They run to the exit of Nammu, the slaves barely able to catch up, the Khajiit who nearly drowned supported by a couple of her fellows. But when they finally get outside, they find S’Bakha, the three atronachs, and Ilmeni, who sits against the cliff face with her hands covering her eyes, unscathed.

“Dammit,” Ku-vastei says. “He must have teleported.”

“Where to?” Ilmeni asks, sounding somewhat relieved as she stands up.

“Wolverine Hall, if he Divine Interventioned. Perhaps Vos if Almsivi.”

“Or,” Aryon notes, “he could have Recalled to a preestablished Mark.”

“We’ll never find him,” Ku-vastei says, banging the butt of her spear on the rock below, startling the slaves. She sighs and scratches her chin. “Did you at least find the key?”

“Yes,” says Aryon. “One of the others had it.” He hands it to Ku-vastei. “I think you should do the honors.”

As Ku-vastei begins to unlock each slave’s bracers, she mentions, “I need to speak with Llethym. He needs to explain why the Camonna Tong are bringing slaves to my House.”

“I suspect I should speak with the Grandmaster as well,” Ilmeni adds.

Aryon nods. “I’ll get in contact with your Mouth, Ku-vastei. He can arrange the meeting.”

“Fast” Eddie Theman, Ku-vastei’s Mouth, does indeed arrange an audience with Grandmaster Llethym Hlaarothan of House Hlaalu rather swiftly. After dealing with Endase and getting the tear in her robe mended, Ku-vastei meets him at his office in the Hlaalu Canton of Vivec.

She knocks on the door, and is welcomed in. There are two seats arrayed before a grand desk, behind which sits the Grandmaster. He’s a thin mer, who Ku-vastei knows is capable of a lot of second-story work and assorted illegality, as how else could he have reached his position in the House? Perhaps the Duke Vedam Dren thinks him a noble figure, but even nobles can be deceived. Possibly flattered by Bug Musk, or some enchantment, or simple Illusion magic. None of these are beneath Llethym Hlaarothan’s moral standards.

In House Telvanni, you tend to just kill off anyone who gets in your way. And that suits Ku-vastei just fine.

“Welcome, welcome!” bellows Llethym, startling his other guest, already sitting in one of the seats. She turns to see who has arrived, and -

“Ku-vastei!” Ilmeni Dren shouts, her face wrinkling in displeasure as she turns her head back slightly towards Llethym, but never breaking eye-contact with Ku. “This was supposed to be a private meeting, Grandmaster.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Ku-vastei says, smiling.

“Well,” says Llethym, smiling sheepishly, “I thought I’d knock two racers out with one stone.”

“I’m ever so glad you took our wishes into consideration,” remarked Ku-vastei.

“Plus,” Llethym adds, “I hear you two aren’t on the best of terms.”

“Says who?” say Ilmeni and Ku as one.

Llethym clasps his fingers over his desk. “I’m not one to reveal sources, of course.”

Curse Eddie, thinks Ku-vastei, and Aryon too.

“Listen,” begs Ilmeni, “I don’t think there will be any sort of ‘reconciliation’ between us. She tried to kill my cousin.”

“Ah. Galmis Dren, of course,” Llethym says, stroking his stubbly goatee, his eyes wandering. “Firstborn of Orvas Dren. And of the late Amiliah Dren. A charming woman,” he says, not elaborating.

“A wicked aunt,” Ilmeni mutters. “And a long dead one too, thank the Three.”

“Listen to you,” notes Ku-vastei, “wishing ill upon the dead.”

“At least I’m not a murderer.”

“You of all people should know what it takes to end slavery. Or were you too soft? What did your ‘Twin Lamps’ ever truly accomplish?”

“Much,” Ilmeni says, rising from her chair. “And it’s enough. Nobody had to die for it.”

“Slaves have had to die for it. And it is never enough, not until every slave is free.” Ku-vastei’s fingers twitch at her sides, tempting magic.

“You would start a war over this, like you did before,” says Ilmeni, her voice rising. “You know the Dres would never give in peacefully. And the Indoril would support their rights. It would be Vvardenfell against the mainland, and you won’t stop until any who oppose you are dead. Even after the terrible losses of the Arnesian War, you would do it all again, just to satisfy your bloodlust.”

Yellow sparks begin to apparate at Ku’s fingertips, her claws wreathed in golden flames. Llethym notices where Ilmeni does not, and says, “Now, now. Let’s be civilized here. Enough quarreling.”

Suddenly, there’s a loud crash on the door behind Ku-vastei. Then another, and a shout. Ku-vastei wisely takes a few steps back. Then another bang, and the door comes flying towards Ku-vastei, who catches it impaled on a summoned spear, catching on its kagouti-wings.

Behind that door is Galmis Dren, eschewing his usual robes for full battle armor, his full helm for his indignant face, and his axe for hands full of furious fire. Ku-vastei slides the door off her bound weapon so that she can see. “You again,” she says with a dramatic sigh. But her eyes are alight, and her entire body taut with energy. She jumps forward to strike, but even her conjured Daedric spear can’t penetrate his dense armor, scraping harmlessly to the side.

Galmis smirks. “You ruined my entire operation, n’wah,” he says, raising his flaming hands for the assault, “and you killed my father. And now, you die.”

Ku-vastei wishes she’d kept the door. She reaches out a hand with a ward, but she’s never been much good at Alteration. It’s a feeble aegis, and as soon as the blaze hits its violet surface, it begins to show cracks. She pours all of her remaining magicka into the shield, but it’s not enough. It explodes into a thousand scintillating shards, and the force of the blast pushes her back onto the floor, unconscious, sending her spear flying across the room.

Galmis steps forward, standing over Ku’s disarmed form, and prepares to land the coup de grace -

“Wait!” Ilmeni cries, reaching out towards Galmis. But to her surprise, Llethym is already up and standing next to him, placing his hand on Galmis’s Dwemeri pauldron.

“Son,” he says, “that’s enough.”

“Who are you calling son, ‘Grandmaster’?” Galmis tries to wedge a hand between him and Llethym, but seems to struggle in the armor. “I have no father. Not anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Galmis,” says Llethym, his angular face turned unusually soft. “I’m sure you’re aware of the old rumors. That your mother Amiliah wasn’t always faithful to your father.”

“Lies,” Galmis says, still focused intently on Ku-vastei. “Nothing more.”

“They weren’t. You see, long ago, but not long before you were born, I met a charming woman. She didn’t call herself Amiliah Dren, but I knew -”

“Shut up!” Galmis cries. “This isn’t about you.”

“- I knew that she was Orvas Dren’s wife. Our love was brief, yet long enough to -”

Galmis turns towards Llethym’s masterfully paternal visage. “That’s not possible,” he says, his face contorted in rage and grief. “I know who my father is.”

“Did you never wonder why he hated you so? Why he treated you as least among his children, even though you were firstborn?”

Gears turn behind Galmis’s eyes, and his expression softens somewhat. “That’s not…no. I refuse to believe this!”

“Believe it or not,” Llethym says, placing a delicate hand on Galmis’s face, “you are my son. Have you never looked at yourself? How little you favor your ‘father’?”

Ilmeni, so enraptured by the scene playing out before her, notices something minute that few others would have. She notices a gesture behind Llethym’s back, a half-closed hand and then a pointing. Old Hlaalu sign-speak. Her father had taught her as a child. She closes her eyes, contemplating what he was asking her to do. But then she glances at Ku-vastei, lying on the ground unconscious, and knows she has to.

She slowly raises her right hand towards Galmis’s face, and lets loose a gout of bright blue flame.

He screams immediately, pulling back from Llethym and clutching his incinerated face. He starts to cast wildly, blindly, charring the walls and ceiling, but misses Ilmeni and Llethym entirely. His screaming slowly fades into pained croaking as he collapses to the ground, writhing in agony as he chokes on the smoke of his own flesh. Finally, silence falls, and all that remains of his face is a blackened skull, smoldering azure.

Llethym attends to Ku-vastei, helping her to stand as Ilmeni falls to her knees. She feels wetness on her face, and reaches up with her hand to discover her eyes as the source. Llethym explains to a shell-shocked Ku what had just happened, and Ku thanks the two of them for saving her life. But Ilmeni doesn’t reply, staring into the far distance over her shoulder and trying very hard not to look at Galmis.

Llethym approaches her, kneels beside her, and places a hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing, Ilmeni,” he soothes. “He was going to kill Ku-vastei, and probably you and I, if you didn’t intervene.”

“I didn’t know you knew magic,” Ku-vastei says, keeping her distance.

“My family is blessed by Azura,” Ilmeni says. “Skips a generation. Landed on mine. And his.” She glances towards Galmis, but quickly averts her eyes and looks up at Llethym. “How did you know?”

“I wasn’t lying to Galmis,” Llethym says. “I am the boy’s father. So I know a thing or two about the Drens.”

“Don’t you feel any remorse at all?” she asks, incredulous. “You just had me kill your son.”

“I never knew him as my son,” Llethym says simply. “Why should I have some special attachment to him?”

Ilmeni looks at Ku-vastei, who shrugs. “You’re both the same,” she says, “aren’t you? Or is that kind of callousness just what it takes to lead?”

“In a sense,” Ku answers.

“But we still care for the people we serve,” Llethym adds. “Enough even to kill for them.”

Ilmeni shakes her head, but begins to understand anyway, and wishes she didn’t.

“Ku-vastei,” says Llethym, “if you please. Tell an Ordinator there’s been an incident in my office, and that we have a corpse that needs removing.” Ku-vastei nods and leaves the room. The Grandmaster returns to his seat at his desk, and sips his tea. “Stinks to high-heaven in here.”

#tes #tesblr #oc: ku-vastei #oc: hlaalu llethym hlaarothan #my writing #telvanni #hlaalu #ilmeni dren #master aryon #i doubt any of these other characters have populated tags lol #even those are a crap shoot #morrowind #argonian #dunmer #khajiit

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midearthwritings · 4 years ago

Text

Of Courtship and Patience (PART 1)

It took Naya many decades and three courtship proposals before giving her heart to Thorin.

Words Count : 2,188

Warning : Canonical Character Death, Grief

Author's Note : Ok so, little bit of context. The first part is set between TA 2793 and 2799, during the War of Dwarves and Orcs. I tried to stay as close to the story as possible. I'm really f-ing nervous because this is my first ever OC fic. Hope you will enjoy it.

And a big thank you to my #1 cheerleader @laurfilijames for helping me proof reading this and for her eternal support.

“Will they return to us?”

Dís’ trembling voice made Naya look up at her. Her face, which was always so calm and composed, was distorted with fear and sorrow.

Erebor was long lost, and exile had been forced onto them. It took years to get accustomed to the fact that they would never see the Lonely Mountain again. And after losing a home and being condemned to wander the world in search of somewhere to live, one would think there wasn’t much left to lose. It seemed the Gods did not share the same opinion for uncertainty and grief had been haunting the two young ladies’ nights lately.

Even without a king, those who could handle a weapon were taken away to battle. Even without a kingdom, the line of Durin was royalty. Therefore, they were the firsts to run into the deadly embrace of war. Death was their duty.

Slowly, Naya slid her hand into Dís’ in a gesture she hoped was reassuring enough.

“I cannot promise such a thing,” she said in a soft tone. “ For hoping too much might kill you if they do not come back. We can only wait.”

The fire crackled quietly in the hearth, like a whisper carrying the saddest news and comforting them at the same time. It warmed their hearts when it had destroyed all they ever had, leaving them with nothing but their tears.

Far from here, far from the safety of these walls, those they cherished the most were fighting vile creatures, exposing their souls to Death’s greedy fingers. Naya’s guts twisted and her eyes dropped to the floor.

“If we lose them, Dís, will our friendship survive?”

A strong hand grabbed her face and forced her eyes to lock with Dís’. They were burning with determination, challenging her to repeat what she had said.

“Silly, if we lose them, you will be all I have left. So do not say such words, even to jest. I cannot bear the thought of having my greatest friend parted from me.”

The younger lady’s lips curved into a smile, a crooked one for the fingers digging into her cheeks made it hard. It made Dís smile as well, one mirroring the other. Mahal might have not crafted them to be each other's One, but surely, he had made them be the perfect reflection of the other's soul. They were like two sides of the same blade, held together by a bond so strong that neither time, life, or death would ever be able to break.

Although time did not break them apart, it did break their hearts. Many moons had passed without hearing from anyone. Dís, as well as Naya, had started to mourn the death of their brothers and friends. Or, at least, their disappearance. They had lost any hope of seeing them ever again. And so one day, they stopped praying for the Gods to have mercy, and silence replaced their hopeful chatter as they held each other’s hand every night.

One morning, however, someone pounded loudly on Dis’ wooden door. Naya left her baking aside and went to open it. Perhaps was it that dwarf again, the one that was eyeing Dís like she was the most precious thing in this world. Naya wiped her hands onto her apron and pulled the door open.

It was not Dís’ suitor. She could not believe her eyes, at first. But there Thorin was, standing in the doorway, waiting for her to let him in.

“Mahal, are my eyes fooling me?” She breathed out. “Thorin, is that really you?”

The words had barely left her mouth when she heard Dís running down the stairs, her footsteps resonating inside the house like a thunderstorm. But all she could focus on was Thorin's blue eyes on her. They reminded her of the clear spring sky, full of promises of new beginnings. It was like when the sun was back from its long sleep, awakening the flowers and birds and people's hearts. And perhaps, at this moment, something did bloom in Naya's heart.

She did not hear Dís call her brother's name and barely registered when she pushed past her to drag him into a tight embrace.

“Oh brother, I thought I would never see you again!” she exclaimed.

“Fear not, sister. A few cuts and scratches are all I had to go through.”

Naya smiled fondly. Dís’ love for Thorin washed over her, making her heart beat faster inside her chest. Only now did she realize it was not a dream. He had come back to them with almost no wounds and, most importantly, alive.

She stepped forward and laid her hand on Dís’ shoulder. Her friend pulled back, releasing Thorin from her arms. He was changed. His features had been hardened by war and his eyes were clouded with something she could not quite pinpoint.

“Won’t you embrace me as well?”

Thorin’s deep voice sent shivers down her spine and she wrapped her arms around his body. He had lost weight, and she would have to make sure he regained all of it. But he hadn’t lost his muscles. She buried her face in his mane, but its softness wasn’t enough to make the coppery smell of blood go unnoticed. At this moment, Thorin felt like a stranger and like home all at once.

“Your sister missed you greatly.” Naya whispered, only for him to hear.

“And you?” he asked in an equally low tone.

Naya chuckled and tightened her grip. She had missed him more than the sun missed the moon, more than the birds missed the trees covered in leaves during summer.

“Yes, Thorin, I did.”

They let go of each other slowly as if to make the moment last longer. She could feel Dís’ eyes on her back, scrutinizing them. She stepped back, giving the prince some space, and offered a smile to her friend.

“You must be tired, and hungry,” Naya said. “Get yourself comfortable, we will make something for you to eat.”

And so they did. Soon enough, the three of them were sitting at the table, sharing a meal. It was mostly Thorin who ate, in fact, for Naya and Dís did not feel the need to. Surrounded by comforting silence, they watched him eat, making sure he had everything he needed. But peace was something people were granted only for a short amount of time.

“Thorin, when will Frerin come back?” Dís asked in a voice so timid Naya thought it wasn’t really her who had spoken up.

The prince looked up to his sister and Naya finally understood what it was that filled his eyes. It was grief. Frerin would not return.

It did not take long for Dís to understand as well. She nodded slightly, tears threatening to fall, but she did not cry. She would when no one was looking because it was how royalty mourned the death of their loved ones. Naya was not royalty. Yet, she kept her head up and held back her tears to pay her respect to Frerin’s family and his memory.

The following days, candles were lit in memory of the lost heir of Durin. They shone brightly like little stars, guiding Frerin into Mahal’s Halls. Naya held Dís as she grieved, but no words were able to soothe the excruciating pain that had taken over the princess’ heart.

Naya had hoped Thorin would help her, that he would stay by his sister’s side and comfort her, but no one had seen him for days. He had barely returned to them and he was already gone again. She felt anger towards him. For years, he had been away, battling against creatures that wanted him dead, and when Dís needed him the most, he was nowhere to be seen. Naya would have his head if he did not make an appearance soon.

One night, after they had stopped lighting candles and Dís was resting, he came to find her. It was late, and sleep had abandoned her. So she was baking again, hoping to silence the dark thoughts. She heard him coming from behind, his footsteps barely audible like those of a mouse.

“Have you finally found some interest in your sister’s feelings?” she spat out, keeping her back to him.

“Naya, I must speak to you.”

She spun around, her blood boiling with rage. Wiping her hands on her apron, she walked up to him.

“No Thorin,” she said accusingly, her index finger digging into his chest. “It is I who must speak to you. We have not seen, nor heard from you in years. The thought that maybe you had passed away has kept us awake at night. Although I am more than delighted to have you back, you had no right to abandon your sister again. Mahal, Thorin, do you not care for Frerin’s death?”

His hand enveloped her wrist, carefully pushing it away. The feeling of Thorin’s calloused fingertips on her sensitive skin made her heart skip a beat.

“I do care for my brother,” he explained. “Crying over his death will not bring him back to life.”

“Then it is very selfish of you to believe everyone grieves the way you do.”

They stayed quiet for a while, standing close to each other, their breath mingling together. Through the kitchen window the pale moonlight poured onto Thorin’s face and made his eyes look like the most precious jewels Naya had ever been blessed to see.

“I apologize for neglecting my sister, and you. I hope you will find in your heart the will to forgive my behavior. In my defense, I have been busy.”

“What could be more important than your family, Thorin?” she asked quietly.

Slowly, the prince pulled something out of his coat. It was a folded piece of fabric that looked a little dirty. He handed it over to Naya and she took it, looking back and forth between Thorin and the small bit of material.

“What is it?” she questioned again.

“You must open it if you wish to find out.”

Carefully, she unfolded it, revealing a single metal bead lying in the center. It was beautifully crafted, intricate patterns engraved into it. As she looked closer she recognized some of the symbols. Her eyes widened and she looked back at Thorin.

“Thorin, I-”

“Naya,” he interrupted, cupping her face with his palms. “This is a token of my love for you. I wish I could offer you more, I wish we were still in Erebor so I could treat you as you deserve. But no matter where or when, no matter the circumstances, I promise to honor and cherish you until Mahal calls us into his halls. In your hands lies my heart and the promise of my eternal love. Please, allow me to court you.”

Naya’s heart was pounding inside her chest, and she feared Thorin might have heard it because his lips curved into a small smile. The moonlight hit the bead, and the soft light caught her eyes. Her eyes fell back onto the tiny object and she smiled softly.

“This is what you have been up to…” she concluded, her finger brushing against the cold metal. “It is very pretty, Thorin. Your skills are very impressive. But I must refuse-”

As she spoke, she folded the piece of fabric over the silver bead, hiding it from her view and Thorin’s hands fell to his side.

“Why is that, if I may ask? Is it not to your liking? I could make you another one.”

“No Thorin, it is not that.” she said, giving him his gift back. “I must say, your feelings are returned. My heart beats for you, trust me. But we are still young, Thorin. As we grow up, your heart will change and desire other things. I do not wish for you to promise me love when your One could still be out there.”

The prince shook his head and grabbed her hips, pulling her against his chest, causing Naya to huff disapprovingly.

“I do not think my heart will ever love anyone but you.” Thorin affirmed.

Naya chuckled, her forehead falling to his shoulder. She stayed silent, enjoying the warmth of Thorin’s body against hers.

“How about…” she began, pulling back. “ How about you wait some more? If your love for me has not faded, decades from now, you may propose again.”

She looked at him as he seemed to be considering her offer. Finally, he gave her a small nod.

“I shall wait then.” he declared. “Until then, allow me to steal a kiss?”

“Now, Thorin,” she joked, tilting her head to the side and wrapping her arms around his waist. “That wouldn’t be proper, much less from a prince, to steal kisses outside of courtship, don’t you think? Although, I can grant you this-”

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his bearded cheek. And the smile she earned from it was worth more than all of the gold in the world.

He would wait for her, and she would wait for him.

#naya #my oc #the hobbit oc #the hobbit fic #the hobbit #thorin #thorin oakenshield #thorin fic #dis #lady dis #frerin

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giranswife · 5 years ago

Text

The Confession (pt 2)

Summary: It’s been a little while since Giran confessed his feelings, and Ash finally found the perfect moment that she wanted to tell him. Bringing him to a spot that meant a lot to her when she was on her own, and something that she was finally able to let go of thanks to him. Giving her the confidence to finally let go and fall in love.

W: self insert, self ship, self insert x canon, fluff, slight suggestive mention, mild alcohol mention

Disclaimer: This fic includes my self-insert/oc that is shipped with a canon character. Ash is my self insert/oc.

(( Here’s part two! It kind of wraps up Ash’s development in a cute little bow, without giving too many details since I want to do that properly in fics that I have planned. And I’m very sorry that they are both so freaking cheesy, but I absolutely love it XD ))

Part One

She wasn’t sure what came over her. But the night was going so well, and honestly… she couldn’t stop smiling. After spending most of the time being so vulnerable and open, she was starting to see why this time felt different. She couldn’t see it entirely before because of her past. Everything was new and exciting, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t see any of it coming.

But that didn’t scare her away. In fact, it was the entire reason why she was falling for him in the first place. She was content with the fact that she couldn’t wrap her head around him at first. The mystery is what kept her coming back. Not just of him but also of their relationship entirely. Wanting to know him more and wanting to know where this would lead.

Then, there was the sense of comfortability that came from being with him. She never felt like she had to be something that she wasn’t, even the parts of her that others would run away from. The parts of her that everyone used to make her feel bad for. It never felt like baggage to be herself, and he never once made her question anything.

And tonight when she was sharing vulnerable parts about herself, he was just… there for her. He listened and he didn’t judge her for her past, because how in the hell could he? He understood her in ways that not a lot of people could. There was so much comfort in not only the lives that they lived but just the way that he made her feel.

Ash took him to one of her favorite spots that she’s never really showed anyone. It wasn’t really romantic either, but it held some sentimental value. That and it had some history, which she was planning on opening up about. And it was a little bit of a surprise, which she thought was cute given that he’s always surprising her. But it was the perfect way to open up, in a way that she should have a long time ago.

He knew some parts about her, but he didn’t know everything. She kept some things in the dark, mainly because she was afraid of how he’d see her. But tonight she was changing that, especially after he had opened up to her not that long ago. It just felt like they were at that place that she trusted him with her life.

“Should I be worried about where you’re taking me?”

Ash laughed, turning around to see the smirk on Giran’s face as he tossed his cigarette onto the ground.

“Maybe… don’t you know better than to follow someone to such a quiet and private place in the middle of the night?” She teased, “I mean… this is textbook shit, isn’t it?”

The smile that grew onto her face was breathtaking. Just the perfect amount of sexy and beautiful to make anyone’s head spin. And the way she bit her lip was just as tempting as everything else about her was.

It had been a month since he told her how he felt about her, and ever since then it’s been incredibly hard to keep from coming on too strong. Ash is the kind of woman who’s also hard to pinpoint, but only because she hasn’t been honest with herself. She’s exciting and strong willed, but she can also be easy to scare. He knew that it had something to do with her past, but with little to go on, he's been a little too hesitant.

Which is funny considering how in any other way he hasn’t held back.

But Ash has always been a fucking powerhouse. With any other person that could be intimidating, but it’s one of the reasons that he fell in love with her. Hell the first day they met she was probably the most intense and erupting human he’s ever met. And he’s met quite a lot of characters in his life.

None of them seemed to beat her, though. Because even through all of that personality and impulsiveness, she had a heart like no one else. When she cared about someone she’d do anything in her power to protect them. She holds a lot of herself inside, the hard outer shell a way to keep people away. To keep people at a distance. Those who really wanted to stay would willingly get to know the real Ash.

She tilted her head, noticing that he wasn’t fully paying attention to her words.

“Right? Did I lose you there, Babe?” She asked with a giggle at the end of her sentence.

Her tail swished behind her, and she continued to walk backwards on the edge of the sidewalk like a pro.

“You’re right,” He played along, eyeing the movements of her hips and not even caring that she noticed, “Shouldn’t trust a woman this sexy and not expect any strings.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m not that sexy.”

She was flirting. Knowing that he was going to come back stronger. She knew that she was attractive, and she knew what affect those hips had on him.

“Sexiest fuckin’ woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Now, you’re lying. But I like it.”

Winking playfully, she stopped a little and kissed him softly. It was only one, but it was enough to linger even after she pulled away. This woman was impossible, and she had no idea the true validity of her intoxication. It may not look like it on the outside, but she truly had him wrapped around her finger. Everything that she did just proved that point over and over again.

The way that her laugh sounded like fucking music to his ears, and the look of her smile when she wasn’t forcing it. Her happiness was like a drug, which is why he was constantly trying to make her happy and keep her happy. Everything felt so much better when she was happy and comfortable and safe.

Ash really didn’t know the power that she had over him. At all.

“This have anything to do with where you’re taking me? Find some place interesting to have your way with me.”

She laughed out loud, walking again ahead of him and throwing her head back in a rather dramatic way.

“Fuck I love how bold you are! Course your mind would go straight to that you horny bastard.”

But she bit her lip, obviously thinking about it herself.

“Well, yah bring me to a suspicious location like this and I’m inclined to believe it’s for sex or-”

“Something much more sinister? If I was going to do something to you, then I would have done it already.”

The look in her eyes was seductive and smooth. If it weren’t for her having a surprise for him, Giran would’ve shoved her against the nearest wall and turned this night into something else entirely. But she knew what she was doing. She had to have been with those shorts on this cold late-afternoon and that smile on her face.

“But don’t worry,” She said as she turned a corner and motioned with her head for him to follow, “Have I ever steered you wrong before?”

Her eyebrows wiggled, and she let out a loud laugh.

Using his own words from the past against him. She was a clever woman, he’d always give her that. Clever and sexy. Complete package, and yet she was still surprising him with more every goddamn day. How in the hell did he ever get this lucky to end up with her?

They were definitely going somewhere he wasn’t too familiar with. This part of town was one that he hadn’t been in a while, and the stairs that she took was also one that a person wouldn’t find unless they knew the building. At first he was a little confused, but decided not to ask since she was so excited to surprise him.

This was the first time that she’s ever been this excited. A little nervous from the way her tail swished, but mainly just excited. It was adorable, to be honest. This place clearly was one that she’s been to before, and he was honestly a little intrigued. He knew that she brought wine from the bag that was in her hands, which meant that wherever they were going she planned on staying for a while.

Whenever they reached the roof, she opened the door and held it out for him, the sound of her boots clicking against the floor. She smiled a little, dragging him over to a spot where she’s been several times before. So many times that there were scuff marks from her boots and drawings that she had doodled when she was bored. A lot of memories were made on this rooftop, not a lot of them were the best, but some made her who she was today.

“It’s not much,” She said, outstretching her arms when they reached the small little corner, “But this is my safe place. Or… was… a long time ago.”

“What’d you come here to do?”

“Oh, y’know… Smoke, drink, think, fuck. Just kinda somewhere I can go when shit was too much for me. The city was also pretty to look at, and I can just watch everyone else fuck about their lives.”

She pulled out the bottle of wine and sat down on the ground, crossing her ankles underneath her and motioning for him to follow.

“Sit with me. Or are you worried about messing up that suit I told you not to wear.”

She chuckled softly, her teasing smile growing on her face the more comfortable she became.

It was all coming back to her the moment that she sat down, looking out at the city in front of her and the lights of the nightlife. The sun had just set, and it was a rather beautiful color in the sky with the stars coming out slowly. She wondered if this was a good idea at first, but given that they were closer than ever… she really wanted to show him every part of her. Even the not so good parts.

Plus, this place was special to her. It was the one place that she could be away from everything when the entire world seemed too much. Because the wilderness was nice, but she realized how much she hated the silence. Not to mention it was usually a trip, and she tended to link coming here since it was easy to come up here and get lost in the moment.

Giran rolled his eyes at her comment, but obliged her request.

“Don’t worry, if you need help getting up I’ll gladly leave you here all night.”

She winked, popping open the wine without so much as a hesitation.

“Like to see yah try.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Ash took a sip from the wine, leaning back on her palms and watched the sun finally disappear on the horizon. It was really nice for the two of them to sit there and be together. There was a lot that she wanted to say, but she also just wanted to enjoy the silence with him some more. This was about more than just him seeing a different side of her. It was also a date.

Breathing a sigh, she offered the bottle to him and shifted a little closer. It didn’t really bother her that she forgot to bring glasses, considering it’s not the first time that she’s just had the bottle. It was pretty much her fucking staple at this point. But it honestly spoke to the moment, given that she would do something similar in the past when coming up here.

“I’ve had this spot for a long time,” She said, “Since before… what happened before I joined the league…”

Her voice trailed off, and she knew that she didn’t want to talk about it again. He already knew that part of her, but tonight she wanted to bring up a lot happier things. Nothing that was going to ruin the mood that was already set in the beginning. After all, she was leading up to things that were important and that she wanted him to hear.

“I have a lot of good memories here, and I wanted to bring you here. Since I haven’t really been here since I joined the league. You’re the only one I’ve brought here that was… important to me.”

She hesitated a little, but once she said it her cheeks turned a little red. Opening up was always hard for her, and for some reason it was just as difficult to admit how she felt. But she was determined to move past that. They’ve grown so much together, and she wanted things to be different with him. She wanted to be open and honest and allow herself to fall for him the right way.

Even if she was scared and worried, there was so much good happening here. She didn’t want to let all the things of the past ruin it.

“Sorry if you were expecting something more,” She said.

“It’s fine, Princess. Nice to see a part of you.”

She smiled warmly, taking back the bottle of wine and having another long sip.

“Also nice to hear I’m important to you.”

Rolling her eyes, she laughed and leaned her body against his. Her cheeks were warm, but there was nowhere to hide. Even her hair that she usually used as a curtain in times like this was blowing from the subtle wind. But it was actually a good thing, because she was even more adorable when her cheeks were getting redder and redder.

“You are important to me, and I think it’s only fair that you get to know this side of me too. I don’t really need to come here anymore, because you kinda… are my safe place now? If that makes any sense.”

Ash was getting a little embarrassed to say this out loud. She didn’t want to seem like she was dependent on him in any way, but she was also hoping her words would speak for itself. She’s never been the best with this kind of thing, and she gets way more nervous than she expected. But she was extremely happy.

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded, pursing her lips and taking a small sip of the wine.

“Since being with you and having like… friends… it’s been… I don’t really rely on this place much anymore. It’s kind of weird, because I didn’t realize that I needed this place as much as I did back then. It seems kind of ridiculous saying this out loud, but… I didn’t really have anybody else to fall back on. So I came here to remind myself that as long as I had myself I was… I was okay.”

Chugging on more of the wine, her face got a little serious and she did what she really didn’t want to do. Change the mood.

“It does sound pretty ridiculous now that I’m thinking about it,” She mumbled.

“It’s not ridiculous, baby girl. I understand completely.”

“You do? Well.. uh.. That’s good.”

She felt Giran’s hand touch her chin, and her smile came back to her face.

“Yah don’t have to feel ridiculous for sharing a part of yourself with me. I told yah I loved you, and I meant that. Every part of you.”

That was the first time that she’s really ever heard anyone tell her that. It meant a lot more than he realized, and she tried hard to hide it. But that was incredibly hard to do when her emotions were already incredibly high. And he knew her better than anyone.

Swallowing hard, she sat down the bottle beside her and leaned her head against his shoulder. It was a way for her to smile to herself, hiding her face in the material of his coat and feeling the pressure of her cheeks from how happy she was. It was a feeling that she honestly never wanted to let go of. And all she knew to do was sit and smile.

“Thank you,” She said, “I’ve kinda… rehearsed this a lot since I planned this whole thing. I didn’t want you to think that I was… I don’t know what I was thinking. It just means a lot to me that you listen, I haven’t really been able to let go because I was scared. I guess. Of being dependent on someone and giving someone the power to hurt me… again…”

She was being honest, maybe a little too honest. But it was the most honest that she’s been in a long time. Giran knew pretty much what was holding her back, but hearing her say it out loud was a big step for her. It’s one of the reasons why he was giving her space, to let her figure it all out on her own.

Saying it all out loud really helped her come to terms with what was making it hard for her to fully trust him. Deep down she knew that she would do anything and everything for this man, and knowing that he loved her made everything feel more real. And she wanted to love him in return, she just needed a little bit more time to figure out what she wanted. What she expected and to finally realize how far she’s come.

To not be afraid to let him see every part of her. Because he’d love her regardless of it all. He’s already proved that enough.

“I know that’s kinda not fair to you, but… it also wasn’t fair to me keeping this all to myself. It’s just you’re the first person that I have felt this way about. And I didn’t want it to be like the last time, even though I knew you wouldn’t do that. I just…”

Her voice trailed off, and she was losing her point very fast.

Giran shifted her hair from her shoulder, caressing her neck in a way he had done plenty of times in the past to calm her down. It was honestly the perfect gesture he could have done in that moment given how she was slowly losing her point. Not wanting to say the wrong thing, but also not knowing how to explain herself either.

“It’s okay. I’d never hurt you, Princess. I can promise yah that.”

“I know that… I feel safer with you than I have with anyone.”

“Good, that’s all I want.”

He cupped her face, rubbing his thumb against her cheekbone.

It warmed her heart to see the smile that he was giving her. So genuine and soft, making her head spin while her heart raced. She was truly falling deeper for him every single day, and this moment was clearing all of her thoughts. But she just couldn’t spit out the words that she wanted to so desperately.

“You’re the best fuckin’ thing to come into my life. I don’t want yah to ever forget how special you are. In fact, if I could get rid of every goddamn fool that’s hurt you, I would.”

She swallowed hard, hearing the seriousness in his tone. Having someone say that and mean it was more than she’d ever be able to wrap her head around. She’s never had someone want to protect her like this, but she trusted Giran with every bone in her body. He was the one man in her life that she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Giran…”

“I’m glad that you wanted to share this with me.”

Ash giggled a bit, leaning into his touch.

“I know that I haven’t really been the uh… the best person to deal with sometimes, but I promise that I want to be with you. I’m ready to let you have all of me… no more hesitations and no more hiding behind all these walls. ‘Cause I trust you, and I mean that.”

He chuckled, kissing her forehead in such a way that made her cheeks burn.

“I…” Ash opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t seem to get out the words still.

It would be so perfect, but it just wasn’t the right time right now. Her heart just wouldn’t let her say it, and he noticed the small amount of hesitation on her face. Instead of watching her struggle, he pulled her into a soft kiss. One that made her head feel light and her chest flutter, but she was relieved that he wasn’t rushing her still.

Instead of pulling away, she climbed into his lap and continued kissing him. Deepening the kiss and lacing her fingers through his hair, her lips curled into a smile. He grasped her hips, holding her still and close as she could get. But it still wasn’t close enough, and she noticed that with her arms around him.

A soft moan escaped her lips, muffled against his own. When she pulled away, it took a lot of holding back not to shove him down onto the ground. But the night was also still pretty young for that.

Giran rubbed her sides, listening to her soft giggles as she kissed his jawline.

“So… yah wanna make another memory up here?”

She slapped his chest gently in a playful manner, rolling her eyes as she nuzzled underneath his chin. With a laugh, he held her closer against his chest and felt her get comfortable and heavy in his arms. She listened to the sound of his heartbeat against her ear, closing her eyes and feeling the wind against her skin.

This was a much better memory to make, and it almost felt like a completely new chapter. Closing the book on the past and starting something fresh with him. All of these moments with him, talking about her past and letting go of all of her worries seemed to be just what she needed.

And she couldn’t wait for everything that was in store for them now that she was completely letting go on who she used to be.

Whenever they got home, it had already been very late into the night. But they got so lost in conversation that time seemed to pass by without them realizing it. Ash was a little tipsy in the beginning, but by the time they arrived at his apartment she was pretty sober. But it was also obvious that she had a calmer air about her.

She was still her happy self like she was earlier, but there was something different about the way that she carried herself. Her heart was light in her chest, and she felt like telling anyone that she saw what she was feeling. Ash was no longer afraid of the emotions that she felt, and there was no reason to hide it anymore.

So whenever she had walked passed Giran to get dressed for bed, the words slipped from her lips casually. The exact way that would be expected of her, given that she doesn’t like to call too much attention to things. Hoping that he wouldn’t call too much attention to it, but that was just wishful thinking.

“I love you,” She said, passing him by on her way to the bedroom.

She honestly should have known that she couldn't make a comment like that and walk away. Not whenever he’s been waiting patiently for her to finally say it in return. And after tonight it felt like the perfect end to it. There was no way that he was going to let her get away without him getting a proper confession.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

She might have said that with a smile on her face and a wave of her hand, but he knew better than to believe that. This was the same woman who said not to surprise her with things, but loved every god damn special occasion he made up to give her something. This was the kind of thing that she does, not wanting to be “cheesy” when in fact she definitely wants that.

Which is why whenever he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, she let out a small yelp.

“I said not to make a big deal out of it!”

“Too bad. I want to hear it again-”

Ash let out a loud giggle, biting her bottom lip as her cheeks stained brighter.

She grasped both sides of his face, another giggle escaping as she pressed her body against his. It was cute that he was actually making a big deal out of it, clearly happy to hear her say it. Which she would have probably regretted had he not pulled her back. This was honestly a big deal for her, given that she’s never been in love before.

And it was also proving the point clear by the way that she smiled. Tonight was so amazing, and feeling the pain in her cheeks from smiling was only making her happier. She couldn't believe that she could ever be this happy, but she wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I love you,” She said again, loving it the second time, “So fucking much.”

He pulled her closer, kissing her softly and making her moan happily and contently. Immediately she melted into his arms, not caring that her face was about to explode from the heat alone. It just felt so right, and she had never been more in love in her life. Now that she felt confident to say that, she knew that she would be able to love him like he deserved.

Things may have felt a little different, but they felt that way for the better. She knew that deep within her heart as she deepened the kiss, knowing that she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. She was truly in love with this man in every sense of the word.

#self insert #self ship #ship: you drive me crazy (and I hate it)#my writing #self insert x canon #fluff #alcohol mention #suggestive mention #giran bnha

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alias-b · 5 years ago

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wait wait wait you said “i hope i got everyone??” and then you said “except three” SPILL

🤣 🤣 🤣 I can’t be trusted to keep my OCs & canon characters wrangled, I’m like a babysitter with thirty little kids on leashes roaming about causing mayhem. Billy&Camille misbehaving. But, yeah, I feel like I haven’t gotten into 🙃Three🙃 enough as I have with the Twins to talk about her extensively on the main! She’s still somewhat of a mystery story-wise. Oh, the plans I have tho.

I will say that in writing her, this new arc, and the Upside Down, I’m drawing a LOT on Nightmare on Elm St, Silent Hill, Oculus, and Poltergeist. Hint. There’s more to come with all of them, but I think I’ve revealed just enough about the twins to chat them up and fc them officially 😗 😉 I wanted to round Three out some more before I get into her character/backstory/my made up Upside Down nonsense lore to come 😊 Camille has a hunch that the zombie girl she’s seeing is one of the dead experiments, but she doesn’t know which one or who or whY. Same with the Shields. It’s that ST theme of how characters are separated with different pieces of the puzzle and the story/mystery can only come together if they do first to solve it. Which is going to be a problem this time around bc Edna is the smartest person on the board and keeping the poor players as odds.

I’m still pinpointing Three’s ability and I mostly have it, it’s just more complicated than the others and it’ll come in smaller pieces. Randall and Regan’s ability is semi-clear and they love that literally no one, except Billy bc he hates Randall Dean, is suspecting them of anything lol. 😉 IDK if I’ll try to add more Hawkins’ Lab kids, I might make up a few in passing but 003, 004, & 005 are the focus outside of Camille and El. Also, I wish I could bring back Kali for a cameo bc I miss her. 🥰 ty ty ty, you always brighten my day!

#ask #anon #reply #ahhhhhhhhhhhh

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hannahindie · 8 years ago

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Not What She Seems-Chapter 2: The One Where Things Take A Dark Turn

Dean x OC Sam x OC (friendship)

*Disclaimer-Supernatural and its characters are still owned by the CW and all the people who were smart enough to create them and unfortunately this wasn't me. OC is mine though, so yay for creative license. This is rated M for eventual sexual content, language, and violence. There are descriptions/mentions of sexual assault, although not super graphic, so if that's something that will bother you please skip over this because I don't want to make you sad. Also, this is the first time I've written a fanfic that has seen the light of day, and the timeline might be a little wacky so it’s not quite canon.

Chapter Description: Sam researches the possible case, and the Winchesters have a disagreement. Sebastian insinuates that Ava might be more than just a guest.

Sam rubbed a hand across his tired eyes and leaned back in his chair. Garth, despite his peculiar ways of research and dealing with the brothers, was good at what he did. Although there wasn't a lot of information about what they were hunting, he had done a good job of finding people for them to interview, places to check, autopsy reports and photos of previous victims, a pretty detailed timeline, and a list of places and people to reference for lore if they needed. If Garth was nothing else, he was thorough. Sam had been staring at autopsy photos, and each one seemed to get more and more graphic. Over the past year, five women had been taken, and all five had been found in various states of decomposition. Each one had been tortured to varying degrees, and at least two of them had been sexually assaulted before they were killed. That was the first thing that threw Sam off. Vampires, although known to enjoy partaking in alcohol, drugs, and sex, didn't torture and just throw the person out like garbage, at least not like this. If possible they just turned them and made them part of their nest. If they killed someone, intentionally or not, it was a traditional body dump.

These crime scenes were brutal, and according to the police reports, they were just the secondary scenes. Sam closed his laptop and, discovering that his beer was empty, wandered into the bunkers huge kitchen to grab another. The second thing that he had thought was odd were the choice of victims. The women had nothing in common. There were no distinguishing physical features that tied them together, their backgrounds were different, and even their addresses provided no sense of a pattern. To top it off, the sixth victim, and the one that Garth had pinpointed as an anomaly (Sam had to give it to him, he was a genius at patterns), was male. He had been tortured and beaten before his throat had been slit and he was unceremoniously dumped in an abandoned lot. Although the sexual assault component was missing, the body had several bite marks and, like the others, was mostly drained of blood which brought Sam back to the vampire theory.

"What the hell is going on?" he mumbled to himself as he grabbed another beer, oblivious to his brother as he entered the room.

"Who are you talking to, Sasquatch?" Sam grunted in response as he twisted the cap off his beer.

"This case, man. It's weird," Sam said as he tossed the last beer to Dean. Dean sat at the table and took a sip. Sam leaned against the counter and watched his brother for a moment. He looked exhausted and Sam sighed knowing that rest was still far off for the two. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Are you gonna tell me or are you wanting to play twenty questions?" Sam cleared his throat.

"Sorry. Okay, so about a year ago, a girl named Isabella Martin disappeared. She was there one day, and then the next she was gone. The only thing missing other than her was her purse. Her clothes, phone, keys…all of it was left behind. After searching for a couple of weeks, the police were lost. She was a good kid, had a nice job, never been in trouble. The case went cold and a month after she disappeared, a construction worker found her naked body inside a barrel on a job site. She'd been tortured; cuts all over, broken bones, bruises, you name it. According to the coroner's report, she'd only been dead a day or so. A couple of days after the first body is found, a second girl named Abagail Barnes disappeared. Same scenario. Two months later, she was found at a park about fifteen minutes from where she was last seen. She'd also been tortured and had only been dead about three or four days. A few more days pass, another girl disappears. Every couple of months, someone else would disappear and then turn up dead. The time frame was getting longer in between, but the torture was getting worse, and the last two female victims were sexually assaulted before death." Dean paled slightly, but remained quiet for a moment.

"Last two female victims? Was there a dude?" Sam nodded.

"Yea, and that's when Garth caught on. Three days ago, a man named Benjamin Taylor disappeared. The difference, though, is that there was an actual crime scene at his apartment and they found his body way faster, earlier today actually. He'd been tortured, but not quite the same as the girls. He'd also been beaten, was covered in bite marks, and his throat was slit. He had only been dead a few hours when he was found in an abandoned lot by a group of kids." Dean leaned back in his chair.

"How is this our problem?" he asked as he stared Sam down. Sam crossed his arms.

"What do you mean 'How is this our problem?'? Six people are dead." Dean rolled his eyes.

"And that's terrible. I hope they catch the son of a bitch that did it, but this isn't our fight. We hunt monsters, Sam, not serial killers." Sam slammed his beer bottle on the counter.

"We don't know that that is what's happening! What about the bite marks? What about-"

"It's some sick bastard with a biting fetish, who gets off on raping women and killing them. He's a monster, but not the kind we fight, Sammy." Dean pushed himself away from the table and headed for the door. Sam picked up the beer bottle and threw it. It struck the far wall and shattered, beer and glass flying everywhere.

"Don't call me Sammy!" he bellowed, which stopped Dean in his tracks. Sam was staring at him, his hazel eyes tired and dark. He was trembling slightly and his hands were curled in tight fists at his sides. As quick as the moment started, it was over. Sam slumped against the counter. "Dammit, Dean. Something is going on. We are driving to Wichita tomorrow and we are going to the morgue to look at the most recent victim and talk to the coroner. You should probably get some sleep. It's almost a three hour drive and you look tired." Dean narrowed his eyes at his baby brother, wanting nothing more than to tear him a new one. Instead, he angrily strode past Sam.

"Fine," he hissed and disappeared down the hall. Sam sighed then began cleaning up the mess he had made.

Dean stalked through the halls of the bunker and flung the door open to his room. He slammed it shut behind him and went straight for the whiskey on his desk. He immediately tossed back a glass, filled it a second time, then sat heavily on his bed. He was angry. He wasn't even sure why he was angry. The guy Sam described was a monster. But they couldn't fight everything, and he was tired. He felt guilty at being mad at Sam, especially since he was just trying to help someone, but Dean had had enough. He was exhausted and he knew that Sam was even worse off. For once, they had a place to call home. They had their own rooms, beds that were heaven compared to what they had spent most of their lives on, and privacy. They could sleep without fear of someone breaking in and attacking, they didn't have to stay in the Impala hours on end. Dean had learned that, with an actual kitchen at his disposal, he was a really good cook. That's all he wanted. He and Sam had earned it, and yet here they were. He was tired of fighting, and he wasn't just thinking about demons and ghosts. He finished off his second drink and considered a third.

"Ah hell, why not? Tomorrow is going to suck anyway." He poured another, then stared at the rich amber liquid in his glass. "It's a wild goose chase, you know? I get that people died, but we don't stop human murderers. Well…except the Benders. That was a thing. But I'm not Derek Morgan, leave that shit up to the BAU." He chuckled to himself, took another sip of whiskey, and looked up to the ceiling. "Cas, buddy, we need you. Maybe you can zap a little common sense into that hard as hell skull of Sam's. Or just knock us both out for a few days so we actually get some sleep. How 'bout that, buddy?" He paused. "Cas, can you hear me?" He was greeted with nothing but silence. "Of course not. I'm just sitting here talking to myself like a dumbass." Dean leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes. "I'm not even sure why I try. Hopeless romantic, I suppose…" he trailed off as his eyes slipped shut and he fell asleep, his glass tilting haphazardly in his hand, the liquid shimmering in the soft light of his lamp.

Ava stared at Sebastian, eyes wide as she contemplated what he had just said.

"Why does that matter?" Sebastian gathered up her wallet, placed the license back inside, then slid the wallet back into her bag.

"What?" He looked at her innocently.

"Why does being an organ donor matter?" Sebastian smile, and for a moment he seemed embarrassed, his harsh features softened by an almost boyish grin.

"Oh, it just means you're a really giving person. You are, aren't you? You seem like you would be." She swallowed painfully and her eyes shot quickly to the glass of water before resting back on his face. "You must be parched! I didn't even think…I don't really get thirsty, so I forget that other people do." He gently tilted the water to her lips. The cold water spilled painfully down her dry throat, but she thought it might be the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. He pulled the glass away and a quiet moan escaped her. She was still so thirsty. "Ava, if you drink too much, too fast, you'll get sick. We must pace ourselves.' He sat the glass gently back on the nightstand, again just out of her reach should she try to get it again. His attention went back to her bag. "What is this?" His hand disappeared and brought out a black canvas bound book. Her sketchbook.

"Please…" She wanted to take it from Sebastian, but she knew the consequences would probably be worse than not answering one of his questions. He noticed her discomfort and smiled again, his expression cold.

"Something important, I take it?" He began flipping through the pages. "A sketchbook. You…you are very good." He had stopped flipping and was staring at the book intently. "This is your boyfriend, isn't it?" He flipped it around where she could see it and tapped the page. "What was his name?" She felt her heart skip a beat as she caught what Sebastian had said. He'd said 'was'. He leaned closer, his face inches from hers. "Ava, don't forget the rules. What…was…his…name?"

"Benjamin…his name was Benjamin." She stared into Sebastian's black eyes as tears formed in her own. "What did you do to him? Where is he?" He laid the sketchbook down, and traced her collarbone with a gentle finger.

"Benjamin had other business to tend to. Unfortunately, he wasn't nearly as good at following the rules as you are. We had…complications." His hand slid further down and stopped to cup her breast gently. He leaned in and his voice dropped to a whisper. "He didn't want me to have any fun. Quite selfish, Benjamin. I could have really used his help, but don't worry, he still came in quite handy." His thumb had begun to make lazy circles and she felt as though she would throw up as she felt his hand through her thin shirt. He shifted so that he was facing her completely, and with his free hand, he pulled her face to his. His mouth worked against hers and she tried to pull away. He moved in harder, and when she didn't quit struggling against him, he bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood. He pulled back and grinned, her blood bright against his pale lips. He put a finger to the wound and then, while she watched with shocked, morbid curiosity, he licked the blood from his fingertip. His eyes closed and he sighed. "That is lovely. You…Ava, you are divine." He stood up then and fell back against the headboard. "Are you hungry? I bet you are hungry. I will go whip up something for you. I'll be back soon, pet." He walked towards the door, then paused and looked at her over his shoulder. "Don't worry about Benjamin. I'm sure that someone has found him by now." He shut the door behind him and Ava crumpled, unconsciousness her only escape.

@wheresthekillswitch @sassyspn67

Chapter 3: The One Where Sam Is Right

#dean x ofc #sam x ofc #angst #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #sam winchester fan fic #fanfiction

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