#it would feel like a betrayal to not say vampire .

[ghouldump]

more loustat x chill/unbothered/oblivious fem reader PLEASE!!

maybe she's like been a part of their relationship for a while, and she like the fledgling of some other vampire, her and her maker were like chill and totally platonic he dipped at some point before she met loustat, and she like the sane one between them and unfortunately gets ignored/left out unfortunately

something like the scene from season 1 where Louis swims across the Mississippi river to get to Lestat, and like reader is there too cause she went w Louis and loustat being there dramatic selves while she's just like trying to talk it out like adults, and then it spirals into argument about her wanting to visit her maker because Lestat, and tbh Louis too, is petty like that

Also your iwtv fics are my life line omg!!🎀

L'amour De Ma Vie | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ while you love your companions, it is no secret that they oftentimes exclude you, and it isn't until you leave that they go into panic mode.

I love this idea, I hope you don't mind me changing it a little bit 🩷

“Louis, Y/n, you’re both soaking wet,” Lestat sat up from the bed.

Glancing at Louis, you could tell he was seconds away from slapping the smirk from Lestat’s face. The woman, Antoinette, wrapped one of the many sheets around her body, awkwardly staring at the two of you.

“Leave,” he told her, and just like that, she was up, running out of the bedroom.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Looking for you, and we…found you,” you answered. Louis remained silent, staring at Lestat, his mind all over the place from his companion's betrayal.

You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you didn't. Your maker, Lucius, lives a polyamorous lifestyle. From the moment he turned you, becoming his daughter, you saw the plethora of women and men come and go. Eternity was too long for him to stay with one person, he'd jokingly say, leaving a trail of broken hearts.

“You put your lover on the song, and expect us to come running back to you,” Louis screamed at him.

“I wanted a clear voice, to get the-

“I don’t give a fuck,” Louis interrupted.

“Louis, we agreed that we would just talk it out,” you told him, watching as he was fuming, but he ignored your words.

“You two swam to Mississippi to find me,” Lestat kept the same expression, eyeing the both of you lustfully.

“I swim faster than I drive,” Louis said, his fangs coming out.

“We don’t have to fight like this, we can find a middle ground-

“No, why are you acting unbothered by him stepping out on both of us?” Louis asked.

“I’m not, polyamory isn’t a deal breaker for me, so I feel like-

“He cheated Y/n, whatever bullshit you were exposed to by your maker, doesn’t apply in this relationship,” he told you, catching you off guard.

“That isn’t what I’m saying, we came here because of the song but also because we’ve agreed to make things work”

“So why are you acting like you’re on his side?”

“Louis, what are you talking about? Just because I’m not as angry as you, doesn’t mean I am against you, Lucius has always said anger is-

“Do you always have to bring him up?” Lestat asked a slight frown in place.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius, are you with us, or Lucius?” He raised his voice. Furrowing your eyebrows, you were extremely confused, about how the conversation went from Lestat’s infidelity to your relationship with your maker.

“I’m beginning to question the same thing,” you said, backing away.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” Louis shook his head, mentally criticizing himself for his choice of words.

“It’s okay,” you smiled at him, before leaving, due to your small age difference in your makers, you were faster than Louis, going back home.

You hated this feeling, this emotion, how your mind made you think of things that never bothered you too much before, but now did. From the moment you joined their companionship, you were constantly unintentionally excluded. Even in public, you cringed at times you were assumed to be nothing more than a friend of the two.

Entering the home you had grown to love, you went upstairs, packing some clothing in a bag. You were thankful that Claudia was out hunting, knowing your departure wouldn’t be so smooth if she’d been home. Leaving the bedroom, the family portrait caught your eye, making you pout.

Claudia sat on the sofa, while you, stood next to Louis and Lestat, who leaned against the sofa. You had been hesitant to take the photos, but they all insisted. As the photographer went to snap the photo, Lestat glanced at you.

“Come closer,” he said, pulling you between him and Louis.

His hand on your waist, while Louis held your hand, you all looked like a happy family.

Wiping the tear from your eye, you thought of how despite the occasional exclusion, they did so much more that made you overlook the habit. Maybe you could just get away for a little while, before coming back home.

Glamouring your way from state to state, for well over 24 hours, before you arrived in Los Angeles. Lucius fit into the bright city where stars and beauty resided. As you drained the shipment driver, you felt your blood pumping, an adrenaline rush of excitement coursing through your veins. Lifting from the man, you looked around, sensing the familiar presence near.

“I knew it was you I was sensing,” you heard, smiling brightly, you climbed out of the truck, running into Lucius' arms. His expensive scent filled your nose, as you wiped your mouth.

“What are you wearing, my love, is this what they wear down in New Orleans?” he asked, staring at your outfit. Beige trousers, along with a light pink blouse, he shook his head in disapproval. He considered himself to have impeccable taste in clothing, but he also was old-fashioned in some ways.

“I couldn't have traveled practically in a dress,” you said.

“I am more than glad that you are here, but why so sudden? I mean, no letter or postcard”

“I just wanted to get away from home for a while”

“Those two aren't treating you right? They are easily replaceable, what have I always told you, an eternity is-

“too long to be stuck with the same person, and I should always explore my taste, I know, and Louis and Lestat are fine, I just wanted to get away, I was hoping I could stay with you, for some time, if that's alright”

“Of course, you are always welcome,” he said, walking you to his car.

He didn't live too far away, in an expensive neighborhood, his villa home, the most extravagant. Stepping out, you immediately noticed the woman, peaking from the window.

“You have company?”

“Yes, Sonya, she wants to be an actor”

“You said that weirdly, is she special, maybe a potential companion?” you asked him, grinning.

“She has very sweet blood and an equally cute face, so I keep her around”

“You were just talking about me being with the same people-

“My love, this is different, she has grown on me, yes, but I think we both know I’ll eventually crave something new,” he smirked, as he wrapped his arm around you, leading you into the house.

“Shameless,” you laughed.

“It's true, and the best part of all, when the sex is wonderful they always come running back, come on, I have an extra coffin, you can sleep in”

“I went all the way to Metairie, and nothing, what about you?” Louis announced, walking back into the house. Pacing the floor, while Lestat sat at the piano, staring off into space.

“Why is he back here, I thought we weren’t talking to him right now? And where’s Y/n?” Claudia asked.

“Not now Clau-

“She’s gone, she took some clothes and left,” Lestat finally spoke.

“She can’t be too far, we can still find her and-

“I’ve been all over Mississippi, searching, nothing, not a trace, I can’t think of where she could be and I’m not her m-” Stopping in his speech, he put his head down, clenching his jaw. His leg shook lightly, trying to contain his anger.

“What is it?” Louis asked as he and Claudia stared confusedly at him.

“She’s with her maker,” he managed to get out.

His eyes reddened as he grew angrier, Lestat couldn’t help that he was inherently jealous, unrighteously possessive, especially towards those he loved, and that was very few. You were the most relaxed, forgiving vampire he'd ever met. Extremely oblivious and doting, you'd brag to whoever would listen about how great he was.

While he and Louis held all of the attention, he could hear you bragging to some mortal how well-dressed Louis was, or how Lestat was the greatest musician to grace your ears. You would go on and on, stroking their egos, willingly accepting and loving their baggage Claudia, you were a precious gem, adored by them both.

Your personality was much calmer than theirs, while they regularly clashed, you'd be bringing up calming methods, or ignoring them, chatting with Claudia.

“You have the power over your anger, Lucius was once a cruel angry vampire until he realized it was pointless, if the situation can be fixed, then do it, but if not, leave it in the past,” you'd quote.

Lucius, Lestat hated the man greatly, despite never coming across him before. Suppose his hate began from the respect you held for the man. He was around the same age as Lestat, from Italy, and was very handsome, he'd heard you say before.

He wished he could undo time so that he could become your maker. His blood in your veins, your heart in sync with his own, his fully, bound by more than your vow of companionship. While Louis only hated the man for the weird lifestyle habits he passed along to you, Lestat loathed the idea of another being nearly as perfect as he was to you.

“Lucius speaks French too, although he's more fluent in Italian”

“Lucius is also into fashion, he used to dress me all the time”

“Lucius was once a part of an opera, but he ended up causing a bit of drama because he slept with nearly everyone who worked there”

“Lucius…”

“Lucius…”

Lestat sat frozen seething at the thought of the man. He wanted nothing more than to kill him for making his way into your heart, he couldn't care less about the kind of relationship you'd shared with him.

“Uncle Les,” Claudia called out, exchanging a look with Louis.

“We can still get her to come home, he has sent her mail before,” looking around, he sent to the pile of mail, looking through and seeing the ripped-open envelope.

“Los Angeles, she's in Los Angeles, we can find her,” Louis approached Lestat, showing him the mail.

“She's gone, she's gone back to him and left us,” Lestat mumbled to himself, already crying.

“Hey, we’re gonna find her and she'll hear out, she’ll come back home,” Louis told Lestat, also trying to convince himself, as tears dropped from his eyes.

“I’m going to bed,” Lestat sulked.

“So you can cry all night? Do you want Y/n to come back or not, I sure as hell got used to some peace around here, we have the address, we can easily find a way out there, stop being so dramatic,” Claudia screamed at him.

“I preferred her quiet,” he said, sniffling.

“We can get her back home, you know how she is, she'll want to talk it out before we're back on the road”

“The insufferable therapy sessions,” he chimed in, as he wiped his eyes.

“Exactly, we can start planning right now,” Louis said, his companion nodded in agreement.

“How much do I need to pack?” Claudia asked.

“What makes you think you could come?” Lestat asked her, crossing his legs.

“Because I care about Y/n too”

“We won't be gone for long Claudia, we're just trying to get her to come back home,” Louis said to her, watching as she stepped away.

“If Y/n was here, she would not be okay with you just leaving me here,” she said, stomping upstairs.

“Where should we start?”

“Why don’t you turn Sonya? It’s so obvious that you care about her?” You asked Lucius as you danced to the classical record, in the considerably large living room. Wearing the custom gown he'd gifted you, both of your mouths were covered in blood from the guest of the orgy he'd hosted.

It had been nearly a week of spending time with him, and you were enjoying every moment of the easygoing, carefree life.

“None of this music is as good as it once was, going to see Paganini, I had never heard an instrument played so beautifully,” he shook his head, ignoring your question.

“Lucius,” you called his name knowingly, forcing him to look at you.

“I can't turn her, I…I love her,” he admitted, dipping you.

“If you love her, you'd turn her, and you both can have eternity together,” you told him, but he smiled, his hand brushing against your cheek.

“If I love her, then I'll let her live, have children of her own, and pass on as a pretty little elderly woman,” he said.

“Very noble of you,” you joked.

“I guess, but I’ll hold on until that time comes, I have another two years, and she’ll be twenty-seven”

“Aw, Lucius, are you sure you don't want me to do it?” you asked, as he continued to dance.

“Love looks different for everyone, my love, you, of all people, understand that,” he chuckled.

“I guess you're right”

“I suppose that is why your lovers are about to burst into my home,” he said with a smile, as he held you close.

“Yeah, probably, wait, wh-

Just then, the front door burst open, Lestat and Louis storming it, although, they had different targets, rushing over. Louis stood in front of you, pulling you away, into his arms, already pleading that you forgive him for how he spoke and his recent habit of exclusion.

While Lestat instantly had Lucius against the wall, his hand to his throat. Your maker only laughed, you truly learned well, both of these men wrapped completely around your finger, and you didn't even realize it.

“Lestat, don't,” you told him, hearing his chaotic thoughts, he wanted Lucius dead.

“You leave without a word, in the middle of the night. Countless arguments, and the moment he comes up, you up and leave me, leave us,” he screamed.

“We can talk about it, but I need you to let him go, I don't want to see you two fighting, so please, just release him,” you said, exhaling a breath of air, as he let go, growling at Lucius, who nonchalantly walked to you.

“You've done so well, my love, they're like your two little dogs,” he laughed, turning off the music.

“Lucius,” you warned lightly, as he pulled you close to whisper into your ear.

“I’ll give you a bit of privacy, I presume you won't be here when am back, I want you to reach out more often, it has been fun since you've been back home”

“I will,” you nodded.

“Wonderful, I love you”

“I love you too,” you said, watching as he went outside, flying into the air in an instant.

“What are you two doing here?” you asked them, wiping your mouth.

“What are we doing here? Did you forget that you have companions, or did you not care?” Lestat asked angrily.

“You up and left, you didn't even leave a note,” Louis said.

“Did you not care when you were in Mississippi, did you care when you brought up upbringing as if it was an insult?” the words shut them up, the guilt evident, in their eyes.

“Do you love him more, you went back to your maker because you want him more, we haven't been enough for you,” Lestat spoke.

“I'm sorry for what I said to you, I was angry and I misdirected my anger and I didn't mean to do that, especially to you,” Louis apologized.

“Apologizing is pointless, you love him more than any of us, I just need to hear you say it, perhaps that will give me the closure I need, say Lestat, I never loved you-

Bursting out laughing, you covered your mouth, waving your hand apologetically at the two.

“I'm sorry, but you two are drama queens,” you laughed.

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn't even take all of my clothes, or my coffin if I was leaving, I would be taking that because it’s custom,” you told them.

“Why didn't you say that in a letter?” Louis asked you.

“Because I thought about leaving for good, but then I considered how much I love you both, yes, I am oftentimes left out, but when I'm not, I feel like I'm on top of the world, and as you said, we have gotten into countless of arguments, why would I just because you brought up Lucius?”

“You're always bringing him up, comparing-

“I’m not comparing the two of you, you have a few things in common, it has only been a handful of times, but you only like the attention on you, you get so jealous at the thought of me talking about another man,” you laughed.

“Don't be ridiculous, and he's not nearly as good-looking as me,” he said.

“See, I never compared your looks, I know who looks better, Lucius doesn't come close”

“You too, Louis, jealous, worried that I wouldn't think that our relationship is enough and I’d go back to Lucius to practice his lifestyle, it's cute really, you both came scrambling out here, to win me back, I am touched and a few other things,” you continued as they approached you.

Immediately, Lestat was kissing your lips, holding you close, scared to let you slip away. Pushing away from him, you pulled Louis near, slipping your tongue into his mouth. Lestat stood behind you, kissing your neck, and tearing the dress.

“Where’s Claudia?” you asked through your moans, as each article of clothing was peeled away. Stopping, the two slowly stared at each other, before looking at you.

“She’s in New Orleans”

“You left her in New Orleans, by herself? We need to leave now, why would you do that?” you yelled, going to pack your things.

“Wait, can we finish what we started?” Louis asked his hand over the painfully stiff sensation between his legs.

“No, we need to get back to her”

“I hate when the brat is right”

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 24

(Erikír is a Mahi Mahi merman and is best suited to warm climate seas. He doesn't fare well in cold climates or cold waters, hence his dislike for Merfolk who are more adapted to the cold like Azul and the Tweels. Genetically, Erikír is part Human and benefits greatly from that part of him that allows him to get almost anything he wants. Though his Mahi Mahi genes are dominant, he does have a few abyssal sea creatures in his heritage, but shuns these parts of him because he prefers the more Human-like appearance of his Mahi Mahi genes. He has long wished for a Human of his own to wed and adore, to the point he is considered as much of a Humanfucker as Azul is.)

Warnings; longer chapter, Spelldrive Tournament in full swing, poachers, betrayal, Grim and the Human are both in danger several times during chapter, snuggles, calming an unhappy Dragon, conflict of the highest proportion, power difference, public violence, Leona is not a happy camper but he is trying, isolation, suggestive themes, plans and schemes come to light, Azul is a schemer but can be a genuinely good guy, fish conflict, Dragon rage, familiar faces, RSA students choosing sides, overblot, violence, mention of blood and ink, the plot bunny took off sprinting, interference, Nemean Lion, Harpies, Dragon, Vampire Bat, Raiju, Cervitaur, Hellcat, Merfolk, Drider, Bakeneko, Unicorn,

~~~~~~~~

Leona was furious and pouting all at once as you spoke to the Headmage. It was later in the day when he called you and your guards for the week to his office, but what he had to say deeply upset Leona.

The Spelldrive Tournament was going to take place the very next day and the storm had yet to let up. Almost everywhere outside looked like a swamp-land made of mud and most students struggled to get through the tumultuous terrain even for their flying classes with Professor Vargas. There was no way the Spelldrive Tournament could take place while the storm continued to rage.

That brought you to the present where Crowley had given you an order dressed as a suggestion.

"It would be best for you to spend the evening with Diasomnia so we have a chance to dry the arena without further storms."

"Wait, so you're telling me Tsuno has been the cause of this storm for several days?"

"Yes. Mr. Draconia is a Dragon, and as a Dragon he is far more linked to nature and the natural weather cycles. Surely you have noticed how his general mood impacts the world around him?"

"Of course I have, he even told me when he is angry it storms, I just didn't think anyone could keep a storm going for days like this. Not even him."

Crowley nodded, looking back out as several more strikes of green lightning leaped through the dark and swirling clouds. It really was putting Malleus' strength in perspective for you to find out that he could keep such a strong storm going for days on end. You being in Savanaclaw must have deeply messed with his personal comfort, though you were beginning to feel his possessive behavior was more than just the norm for how he protected his Hoard.

"Savanaclaw is the dorm tasked with guarding the little Mousey, you can't just sweep in and tell us the night before the Spelldrive that we have to give her up because that Lizard is in a pissy mood-!"

The lightning now struck the very tower your group was in at least four times, crackling and roaring with thunder. It was far more than just simple coincidence that the lightning followed Leona's crass words towards the Dragon. Even as things calmed, poor Grim was shaking inside your uniform jacket, covering his torn ears with his little paws.

"Leona, the Spelldrive can't happen if the arena is flooded. I'm sorry, but if this is really all because of Tsuno, then I have to go to Diasomnia tonight. Even Vil said it was likely before we had that photoshoot."

Leona's ears angled back at your words, he knew you were right but he didn't like it regardless. Even beyond the fact that he now had to break the news to his team about not having your energizing and filling cooking the night before the Spelldrive Tournament, he had other issues. He simply didn't trust those RSA boys, at least, he didn't trust Erikír.

"Speaking of the photoshoot," Leona growled, now turning back to Crowley, "I take serious issue with that pompous prick Erikír being anywhere near Mousey. I don't give a damn if the Owl trusts that fish-prince, he isn't safe to keep around her."

"Ambrose assures me all three of the chosen guards are sworn to keep her safe from poachers-"

"But what about keeping her safe from them?"

"What do you mean?"

"That fucker tried to hold Mousey and was feeling up her stomach during that stupid photoshoot."

This made Crowley suddenly scowl, his feathers ruffling as his wings rose up dangerously. The relaxed and almost flippant behavior of the Crow Harpy was now gone, replaced by a low cawing hiss from the man.

"... He did what?"

"That fish-dick prince was making Mousey uncomfortable and kept touching on her stomach for almost every picture he was in! Even when Mousey yelled at him for his behavior, he didn't deny it, he just gave excuses!"

A kind of rage seemed to fill the Crow as his feathers bristled and his lip curled in fury. Such a brazenly disrespectful act from someone who should know better than to try and assault the treasured Human was no small crime. Still, it was too late to really change the guards now so close to the Tournament. He would have to ensure to speak with Ambrose about Erikír never getting the chance to be with you alone.

"I will handle it."

"But-!"

"I said I will handle it, Mr. Kingscholar. For now, continue on as you have. (Y/n), my sweet little bird, I will take you to Diasomnia. If anything happens tomorrow to make you uncomfortable- from words said, to physical action taken- you need to tell me or one of the professors. Even if you just get an off feeling from anyone, find one of us or a Housewarden. I will talk with Ambrose about his questionable choice of Mr. Helmsman and we will address his behavior towards you. Mr. Ashengrotto is in charge of most confections and organization of tomorrow, he will be made aware of the situation and I will ensure he keeps an eye on those Royal Sword Academy students tomorrow."

You nodded, casting a glance back at Leona as Crowley gently herded you from the room, leading you to the ever familiar mirror of the Diasomnia dorm. Even inside Diasomnia's realm, the storm only seemed to rage stronger than it did outside on Sage Island. Crowley was quick to cover you with one of his large black wings, ushering you inside the dorm and out of the raging winds.

Thankfully, due to his insulating wing, you weren't too wet from the rain, but the Crow was obviously not pleased and shook out his feathers. The students that had been in the common area looked over as the two of you entered, their curiosity drawing more attention along with hushed whispers. Despite having been in Diasomnia before, you really didn't remember the way to Malleus' room and felt a little lost in the grand halls of the dorm.

You didn't see Malleus among them and slowly reached up to grab your collar, holding the Magestone gifted to you. Malleus did say you could call him for anything and he would answer, so perhaps you would have to call for him now.

"(Y/n)!"

A familiar voice cheered happily and from the rafters fell a familiar leathery-winged Bat. The young-looking Fae seemed thrilled to see you in Diasomnia, his hair fluffed up and his smile wide as he greeted you.

"Here for a visit? You should go see Malleus, he has been a bit out of sorts recently and I'm sure seeing you will put him in an excellent mood."

"Well, that's why I'm here. Apparently, we can't do the Spelldrive Tournament if the field is too wet, so I'm here to see if Tsuno will be willing to call off his storm if I stay the night."

"Wonderful idea! Here, let me go get him-"

A loud boom of thunder shook the stone foundations of the dorm and everyone glanced nervously in what was likely the direction of Malleus' room. The faint click of hooves approaching let you know more students were joining those in the common area. Silver and Sebek came into view shortly following the lull of thunder, both looking worse for wear.

Sebek's head was hanging low and he had an almost sad look on his fierce face, his tail limp and his ears drooping slightly. Silver didn't seem to be in any better of a mood as the two almost looked downcast. Without much decorum or their usual grace, the two approached Lilia with tired eyes and disheartened expressions.

"My Liege won't come out of his room. He refuses to see anyone, just like yesterday. It is not my place to suggest such things, but perhaps we could convince-"

Sebek cut himself off as he saw you standing there, Grim slowly peaking out of your uniform jacket and looking towards the familiar faces curiously. He seemed to almost get a second wind as he stared, mouth somewhat ajar in surprise. Silver was quicker to pick up on his change in attitude, noticing you as well and perking up in a similar way to Sebek.

"M-My Lady (Y/n)," Sebek quickly bowed his head to you, "did something happen in that detestable Lion's dorm-?"

"No, not at all, Sebek. I'm here to spend some time with Malleus."

"Thank the stars! I mean-! His Highness has been pining recently... I have been worried that he has refused to leave his room for several days now, but if he finds out the entire Hoard is here, perhaps he will calm."

You nodded and then realized Lilia had skipped off without anyone realizing, likely heading the direction Silver and Sebek had come. As you turned to Silver to hear what the Reindeer had to say, there was a sudden sound of rumbling that was quite different from the storm outside. It sounded like someone running.

You yelped as you were suddenly swept up into a pair of arms, a familiar black tail winding around you quickly and holding you securely. The chest you were held against was thumping wildly with a frantic heart, a low almost purring noise meeting your ears as the storm outside lulled to silence. There was no need to look and see who it was that held you as you were quite familiar with the arms and tail holding you. Even the wings that wrapped around your figure and hid you from outside view were a familiar color that shined in the low light of the dorm.

"(Y/n)," Malleus hummed, his voice as soft as a whisper, "you're here..."

You smiled somewhat, pulling back to give Grim more room as he purred and bumped his head gently against Malleus' chest. Clearly the Hellcat had missed the Dragon as well, happy to see him again. Grim's behavior towards Malleus made you smile as it was obvious the kit enjoyed the presence of the nocturnal Fae.

"Mama and I missed you, Tsuno!"

Malleus was practically beaming at the happy tone and kind words of the kit, smiling at the both of you affectionately. He even allowed the kit to use his tiny claws, clambering up the front of his Dorm uniform and onto his broad shoulder. The Dragon smiled at the sweet behavior of the kit, ensuring the feline didn't fall as he returned his gaze to you.

"And I have missed my two wayward Hoard members. Now the Hoard is complete once more."

~•§•~

The sun began to crest the horizon, slowly shedding light onto the glistening buildings and fields. With luck, the reprieve from the relentless storm had been enough to somewhat dry the soaked land. Even if it wasn't enough, magic could certainly do the rest.

Shadows retreated from the boarders of the school atop the mountain, hissing as they fled back into the woods. The campus began to buzz with activity as the day of the Spelldrive Tournament had finally arrived. Naturally, most outside of the Diasomnia students didn't expect their dorm to win, but it was still enough of an occasion to stir up the hearts of the students.

With the increasing activity and the low hum of students, everyone began to prepare for the day of activity. What many students hadn't expected was the increased presence of their rival school so early in the day.

Many students from Royal Sword Academy were taking up posts, offering to help the more standoffish Night Raven College students in setting up for the day. The conflict between the two schools was palpable, requiring the intervention of several Housewardens to keep the peace. Even with the presence of the rival school, the excitement in the air was too much for most to ignore.

"I have informed Neige and Artemiyevich that Erikír should not be left alone with young (Y/n) at any point today. Hopefully it will be enough. They also confirmed his behavior towards (Y/n) was out of line."

"He shouldn't be one of her guards today, you know that as well as I. His behavior proves he cannot handle being in the presence of a Human."

"I have faith he will be mindful of his place today, and we will discuss further punishment for his actions."

"Ambrose, he touched her stomach."

"And we will address that after the Spelldrive Tournament. There are too many visiting royals and family members to bring it up now on the cusp of this event. He will be punished, trust me on that, but now is not the time."

Crowley gave another annoyed cawing sound, an almost low croak of a vocalization. Though he wanted that prince punished for daring to perform such a brazen and provocative act, the Headmage understood Ambrose's ambivalent take on the situation. They just needed to get through this Tournament and then scores could be settled.

"Fine. May this day be as uneventful as possible."

~•§•~

You sat in a side room of the arena in an indoor seat, far from the view of cameras and crowds. The window on the far side of the private suite was looking out over the arena where the seven dorms of Night Raven College clashed together in an attempt at winning over the others. Thus far, Savanaclaw and Diasomnia were in the lead and likely to face off in the final round. Despite spending most mornings that week watching the Savanaclaw team play and practice, you still understood very little about how the game was actually played.

The most you could gather from the rounds you had seen was that there had to be seven members on each team and the goal was to take control of the Frisbee like disk and get it to the goalposts on either side of the field. Some of the team was flying on brooms, other members were using their magic to try and protect the disk from the opposing team. It still made very little sense to you, but you were content to watch all the same.

Any time Malleus or Leona took the field, it became readily apparent that they were the crowd favorites as more than a bit of noise was made for them. Clearly, it burned Vil somewhat as he glowered at Leona from the opposite side of the arena as the Harpy's dorm lost to the Lion. Now Diasomnia and Savanaclaw would be facing off in the finals.

If anything, the Tournament really put into perspective how skilled those selected actually were. From the magic they used to take or keep control of the disk, to the ferocity at which they played and moved, you were realizing that you were extremely outmatched against any of these magic users. All it really did was let you know how crucial those like Malleus truly were to your survival. Perhaps, next time you are assigned to a specific dorm, you would call upon Malleus with that Magestone he had gifted you.

He did say 'whenever you need' so surely that truly meant whenever. Even beyond keeping your allies close it would also keep everyone else safe. That storm lasted for days on end, lightning and thunder rolling day and night. Though you had been tucked away safely in Savanaclaw dorm far beyond the reach of the outside weather, you knew the storm had raged at all hours. To think Malleus could keep it going for that long only further proved how outmatched almost everyone was.

Though you were brought into the Hoard unwillingly, your role was becoming clearer by the day. Any living member of a Dragon's Hoard kept that Dragon peaceful. Maybe you had to just periodically visit with him but could still manage to get time away from his almost suffocating embrace.

Luckily Lilia seemed keen to help you in exchange for more time spent with him teaching you ways to soothe the dangerous beast that was Malleus. He had done it for hundreds of years now, he was the master of it thus far. It would behoove you to at least learn how to keep the Dragon calm if only to have more chances to speak with the Human Ghosts.

Time was becoming your primary currency and with all these beasts vying for it, you would have to learn to spend it wisely. If that meant honing you abilities to earn their affections, then you would have to do that and do it subtly. If you could just ask the Ghosts what this aura specifically did and how to control it, maybe you could survive and escape this insanity after all. The stronger the beast, the more you were protected from those that were so keen to get their hands on you.

Beasts like Erikír.

You spoke with Lilia about the misconception that they all seemed to have, vaguely recalling those moments in the past any had touched your stomach. It was a strange and ludicrous falsehood they all seemed to believe was true and it boggled your mind. At least it had prevented most of them from trying to give you belly-rubs. But it still put the Merman's faux pas into perspective.

It also put some of Leona's behavior into perspective. Still, you looked more favorably on Leona for resting on your stomach in the Greenhouse, as Grim had settled there first. Maybe the Lion didn't know or didn't care about these myths surrounding Humans.

Outside of territorial behavior, Grim had been a good judge of character and had hissed at the prince before. Grim also seemed to have a much better opinion of Leona than he did Erikír, lending more credence to a lack of ulterior motive on Leona's part. Even now, Grim kept a wary eye on the Merman who stood to your left, closest to the door.

You wondered why they allowed him to show up if what he did was truly such a disrespect, but you also figured it was because he was skilled in magic and could act as a guard. It wasn't like the RSA students were present for a social visit. Despite that fact, Neige had been a welcome source of distraction and conversation.

"What do you think of the Spelldrive Tournament so far, (Y/n)? It always amazes me how Vil can still look so lovely even while playing a sport."

"I guess that's just how he is. He does make it look flawless. Do you two know each other?"

"Yeah, we went to school together before we both got accepted into mage school. We were always in the same school plays and musicals as the two lead roles. I was usually cast as the hero lead and Vil was cast as the villain. Even then he was amazing at acting and stole the show every time. I always felt so proud of him and a little sad when we had to fight, even if it was just acting."

Neige was a breath of fresh air and honesty, readily telling you all of his stories and sharing every bit of information he could remember. There was a slight warbling coo to his voice as he spoke and the sound caught Grim's attention quickly. The little Hellcat's pupils locked onto the Harpy who continued to speak, his whiskers and tail twitching in fixation.

Of course the Hellcat would like birds.

"We both became young actors and actually got movie roles together too. It always made me smile so much to see Vil was cast as my partner again. Not like a hero partner, but a villain partner. A hero is good and all, but it is the villain that really carries the movie. If you don't have a skilled villain, you don't have a good movie. He hasn't been acting much since he started school here though. I miss him-"

The sweet Dove cut off with a loud cooing call, startled as his wings flared out to the sides when Grim leaped for the boy. It was immediately obvious the kit was harmlessly playing and Neige actually began to laugh as Grim pawed obsessively at his face, trying to get Neige to coo again. You smiled and stood to retrieve Grim, holding your hands out to the kit that was purring and mewling happily against the feathers of the Dove.

As you extended your hand a voice caught your attention and you felt the sudden presence of magic all around you. It hummed in the air musically and glowed a cerulean through the space around you like water. The source of the intrinsically beautiful light coming from over you shoulder near the door.

"Voiceless Song."

The voice cut through the magic with cold determination as almost all sound seemed to be blocked out. Everything except for a softly lulling melody drowned in the wave of magic that took over the room. A hand pulled you away from the other RSA students and Grim, almost throwing you back into the firm chest of the one behind you. The others seemed trapped in some kind of trance by the music as you were pulled out of the room.

A webbed hand flew over your mouth as you writhed in the grasp of the man as the door closed behind you and sound returned. No doubt those in the room were trapped by whatever spell was cast. Similarly, it felt like your voice was suddenly trapped in your throat. Though you were beyond the lasting influence of the room, you were still silenced.

"Shh, we don't want you calling anyone for help now, not when we're so close. Keep quiet while those Fae poachers take care of our exit plan. To think, all it took to make them join my side was the promise of one of our eggs-"

You writhed suddenly in his grasp, teeth clamping down on the flesh with a quick turn of your head. His grasp loosened enough in surprise that you could turn in his hold, curling your fingers so your knuckles met his throat so you cut him off sharply.

His arms fell from their place as he held his throat in shock, but you weren't going to wait around this time. The moment you were loose you took off in the opposite direction, heading to the suite not far from you.

Azul's team had lost early and the dorm leader retired to a nearby reserved suite. He even texted you about his location in case of emergencies and this was absolutely an emergency. In your blind run you felt your silenced throat and lamented the fact you couldn't call Malleus while affected.

The door was already open when you rounded the corner, Azul walking out with Jade and Floyd following close behind. All three looked ready to fight as you ran straight into Floyd, the sturdy Merman catching you and holding you protectively. He was quick to move you so you were behind him and Jade, Azul immediately facing the approaching threat.

Erikír rounded the corner and seemed surprised to find Azul standing in his way. He held his throat and his voice came out hoarsely from your direct attack, no longer the smooth croon he usually had.

"Azul... Of course it's you."

"What happened, Erikír? Her collar pinged."

"It-? Of course. Of course, it was too easy. I should have known. Why didn't I think of that?"

"What are you on about? (Y/n), did he hurt you?"

Azul glanced back at you and you tried to speak and say something to the concerned octopus, but no words came out. His eyes widened at this and he whirled around to face Erikír.

"You did this with your signature spell! I should have known you would pull something like this!"

"No! I would expect you to do something so monstrous. I am looking out for the Human and I am what is best for her. Not you villains! None of you understand the truth, but I do. And even if I need to become a monster, I will prove it to you."

The harsh snapping of bones and ripping of clothes met your ears as the lovely prince standing before you turned into a twisted and wicked looking beast. His mouth ripped and deformed to allow jutting teeth like a deep sea fish, his fins curling and splines ripping away at his clothes. Dark ink pooled beneath his nails as his skin grayed and leeched out his natural colors. The pin on his lapel came loose and formed a long trident in his hands, ink seeming to bleed from the walls and his body.

"Jade, Floyd!"

Both twin Eels drew their weapons, a Leiomano in Floyd's hand an a Harpoon in Jade's hand. The Feral Erikír hissed a shrieking roar as it attacked, Azul pulling you back from the fray and assessing your neck. You tried to let him look but felt worry as the twins clearly seemed to be caught off guard by the strength of the Feral Erikír.

As Azul's hand glowed your throat slowly felt like it was clearing, but it was obvious the octopus needed to join the twins against Erikír. You tried to keep at least one of them between you and the now Feral prince, noticing the way the twins played off of one another even in the fight. Azul seemed to be more on the defense as he blocked the large waves of ink thrown at the four of you. Both twins moved together but even their combination of attacks didn't seem to deter the large Merman who was rampaging.

Azul hissed as one of those inky blobs sliced past his cheek, blue blood seeping down from the injury. Azul took a quick glance at you before his body began to change, his pants ripping from his figure as dark black tentacles burst forward. The juxtaposition between the Trident wielding Octopus and the Trident wielding Feral prince was not lost on you as Azul turned his full attention forward, each tentacle wielding perfect copies of his original weapon.

The beast shrieked again at the increased attacks but you couldn't focus on him as the sound of more footsteps came from behind you. You had hoped it was someone familiar at best, and at worse a member of either school, but those approaching were strangers. Their eyes reminded you of Lilia and Malleus, as did their ears, but they were all staring at you. They didn't wear the uniform of either school so you knew these had to be the Fae poachers Erikír spoke of before you escaped him.

Azul couldn't deal with both threats at once and you held a hand to the Magestone on your neck.

"..."

~•§•~

On the field fought two Housewardens, going neck and neck. Despite the difference in strength, Malleus was willingly holding back. If for nothing more than to give his beloved Human a good show. You had seemed actually excited about watching the game and he wanted to ensure you had a chance to enjoy yourself. Leona took the opportunity with both hands and the scores were tied up. As they prepared to start the game once again, a sudden voice split through Malleus' mind, so filled with fear that flames ingulfed the dragon completely.

"Malleus Draconia!"

Voices screamed out in surprise as the Dragon tore from his tame form and into the scaled hide of his full Draconic figure. Flames leaped from his throat as the beast turned to the beacon of magic that called for his aid, launching himself into the wall of the arena and breaking through the side of the building far too easily. The Dragon clawed into the breach before pulling back, dropping from the wall with a soft figure held in his jaws as he coasted on leathery wings.

Following behind the Dragon was a large burst of black ink, flowing forward towards the Dragon. As he landed, he set the little figure down with the utmost care between his claws. The beast stood with wings spread wide, smoke rolling out of his mouth as the beast hissed towards the approaching darkness.

Screams and gasps escaped the crowd as the clearly Feral Merman leaped out. Within the wall of the arena, it was clear there was a fight taking place inside. Confusion almost reigned before a pair of Harpies flew out from the side of the arena and onto the field. Both Harpies were well known celebrities and it was clear the smaller of the pair was leaning heavily on the other.

The watching Housewardens also joined the field, a lovely Unicorn leaping into the scene with the pink-haired Bakeneko on his back, also seeming worse for wear. A large Drider joining the field with a small winged feline in his arms. Despite the sudden appearance of the clearly Feral mage, several figures joined the inked beast's side against the Dragon. Standing with wide eyed determination, several Fae stood trying to stand against their prince for the promise of their own Human.

"You dare oppose your prince? Flee and I won't hunt you. Stay, and you burn with the Feral."

The Dragon's voice boomed loudly, making several of the opposing Fae flinch sharply from the tone and force. A few even backed away fearfully, turning to flee the intense glare of the scaled beast.

The inky beast didn't care that it faced a Dragon, trying to launch that same dark liquid at the beast who merely shrugged it off, every attack rolling off the scales harmlessly. With a quick whip of his tail, the inky beast was sent spiraling back after every failed attack, screaming in increasing frustration. Forming in the throat of the Dragon was rolling green flames, flickering and rising up in intensity as the great Dragon moved his claws, holding his precious treasure securely and safely. After all, what could truly harm a Dragon?

A sudden burst of white and black feathers exploded onto the arena, both Headmages stepping in the now forming battlefront in an attempt to keep the peace. Any Fae that tried to run was quickly caught by vines that exploded from the field, joined by more until the Fae was overwhelmed by the plants. Shadowed and Snowy feathers danced as combined blasts of magic overwhelmed and forced the Feral Merman down.

Thankfully, the interjection of the Headmage was enough to stay the flame of the Dragon, though it was clear he wanted to scorch the prince. He hissed and slammed his tail in what could only be described as predatorial frustration. The Dragon wanted nothing more than to protect his prized treasure with murderous levels of strength, the Harpies only somewhat soothing his rage.

"Malleus?"

Your voice was small but rang loudly in the Dragon's head, compelling the large beast to look down at where you were curled in his claws. The soft figure of his Human was a soothing one and seemed so much smaller in his claws. It soothed him more than he could describe to know he held his prized treasure securely and safely.

Even one Feral was too many, two? Unacceptable by any stretch.

"I am here, my (Y/n). I'm here."

The scaled beast dropped his head, opening his claws to gaze down contently. He could see no injury on his beloved and it soothed him more than believed possible.

"I care not for this game any longer. My Hoard takes priority. Where is the kit?"

Rook came over with a groggy and still magically impacted Grim. The Dragon allowing the arachnid to place the kit in his claws, back where he belonged with the adored Human. That fish would face consequences and Malleus wanted to be the one to perform it. But that could be handled later, as could the repairs to the arena. Now he needed to enjoy the simple comfort of knowing he got to his adored Human before anyone could hurt her.

All was as it should be.

[theeoriginals]

“It was- not love at first sight, but familiarity. Like, oh, it’s you.” With Klaus or Elijah please! Something to make me feel better while I do this awful assignment 🥲

deep breaths | elijah mikaelson

pairing: elijah mikaelson x reader (no y/n!)

warnings: noneeee this is just sweet

author’s note: i wrote this at work on my phone just now so sorry if it’s not the best <3

The thing is, Elijah Mikaelson has lived many, many lives. He has had so many names, faces, stories, and voices he can hardly remember them all at this point. That, he supposes, is just part of the curse of immortality. Esther likely didn’t think that far ahead out of her grief when she turned them all into monsters. She didn’t think to consider that she wasn’t saving herself anymore loss, she was cursing her children, leading them to damnation and then blaming them for what she did.

Elijah would likely live another thousand years before he was able to fully comprehend all of the tangled, contradictory emotions that came with vampirism. A gift and a curse, like most things.

What he could for certain say was that he’s loved just as much as he’s hated. He would even argue that you can’t possibly know what it means to hate someone unless you loved them before, unless you still loved them. And although he believed that, he was not someone to give second chances often. At least not to anyone besides his siblings— though that was a different beast altogether.

Elijah knew that even if he hated someone, someone else could love that person just as much. He’d seen it often enough, felt betrayal in his gut like a stake to the heart.

Love, in all of its glory, was not often kind to Elijah.

So whenever his siblings found it necessary to tease him for being so uptight and closed off, he did nothing more than roll his eyes, because it was much easier than telling them that he was scared. Truly, deeply, in his ancient bones, he was scared. Not of love itself, but of the continuously growing sense that he would never truly find real love. And perhaps it was entirely too human of him to think that way, and perhaps it made him weak to some, but Elijah knows that his brothers and sisters more than anyone crave love just as much as he does. He knows they feel it just as deeply as he does, that want in their bones that rushed through their blood, the want for someone to just come in and never leave.

It’s hard to find that when you outlive most people. Harder than one might think, even if you fall in love with an immortal being. It’s not just that he’ll outlive most everyone he could fall in love with, either. It’s that every time it seems he’s done it, he’s fallen in love even knowing it won’t last but letting it happen anyway, it doesn’t— it doesn’t fill that void inside of him.

It doesn’t flood his mind and his body, it doesn’t fill him with life, it doesn’t make him want to breathe.

Elijah doesn’t have to breathe, but he wants someone to make him feel like he has to.

For the past thousand years he’s fought and won and lost, and he’s done his best to keep his family alive despite everything they do to drive him insane, despite the fact that they try to kill each other more than anyone else. He has been holding his breath for a thousand years, fighting and fighting and fighting. He wants to exhale.

He can’t explain this to his siblings. They would understand, he knows, but it’s something he’s never said out loud to himself let alone anyone else. Saying it out loud makes it real, and he can’t— he can’t admit it. When you are drowning, when you are holding your breath, you don’t realize you’re drowning for a long time. And the moment that you do, you realize that you can’t breathe and suddenly you’re gasping for air and you’ve all but killed yourself.

Elijah can’t admit that he’s drowning.

He sighs loudly, and it’s not an exhale and it doesn’t lift that weight off of his shoulders. It’s an expression of his annoyance with his siblings, because this far into their collective immortality, all they live for is getting on each other’s nerves.

And here at Rousseau’s is the last place he wants to entertain their petulance. You never know who could be listening, and Elijah really doesn’t want anyone less than favorable to hear about his love life, or lack thereof.

“I wish you’d just bring someone home to meet us at least once!”

“I wish I could go out and have a drink without being harassed by you people,” Elijah says moodily.

Rebekah pushes her bottom lip out in a pout and widens her eyes in a way that has always gotten her anything she wants from anyone ever. Elijah is, in fact, very aware that he and his brothers have worked overtime in making her as ridiculously spoiled and entitled as she is and yet he still manages to be surprised when she behaves like this.

“We aren’t harassing you, Elijah, we want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”

He sighs again and closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again and fixing them on Rebekah and Klaus. “It’s not wrong. But I don’t know what you expect me to do about my lack of prospects, it’s not like the perfect person can be conjured at whim.”

Klaus lifts a finger and Elijah knows that he’s going to say something ridiculous before he even speaks. The gleam in his eye never bodes well for anyone. “I bet we could find a witch to do just that. We could compile all of your wants and desires in a partner and get a witch to mix it all together for you. Problem solved, Elijah has a soulmate!”

Elijah gives his brother a deadpan look. “Is this witch Victor Frankenstein?”

Rebekah snorts in amusement, and Elijah dutifully ignores it.

“Be creative, Elijah! Open your mind,” Klaus swipes an arm out dramatically, sloshing his drink over the side of his glass, splashing a few drops of bourbon onto Elijah’s suit jacket.

Elijah’s lip curls in distaste and he gives his brother a look of disdain that goes ignored.

“I have an open mind, what I don’t have is an open schedule,”

“You are not as busy as you like to believe,” Rebekah drawls out, finishing off her own drink. “Your life will never change if you don’t go out and do something different! You’ll be stagnant forever, and I do mean forever, brother,”

“I will never be stagnant with your dramatics, Rebekah,”

She rolls her eyes at his avoidant response. “Your love life is stagnant. I don’t even think stagnant is the proper word, it is downright nonexistent. It is extinct.”

“Thank you, Rebekah,”

“Even if you have a sleazy, completely forgettable one night stand, you need to do something. You’re constantly dealing with us, you need to focus on yourself!”

Elijah pours the rest of his bourbon down his throat, barely tasting it as he swallows. “Maybe if you did less idiotic things that I have to deal with I’d have a more active love life. And truly, I’m not sure why I’m being lectured when you two are the furthest thing from romantically successful.”

“I have a child, I’m plenty romantically successful!”

“She was conceived during a drunken one night stand with a werewolf who is now married to someone else.”

“The details don’t matter, I have a child to show for it. I have a father’s wisdom now, you should listen to me!”

Elijah raises an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, I am not part dog and therefore am actually incapable of reproducing much like you thought you were. And considering the trials and tribulations we went through with Hope, I can’t imagine I’d have any better luck in my own venture to fatherhood.”

“You’re being purposefully obtuse,”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Elijah simpers, gesturing to the bartender for another round for them.

“I have a challenge,” Rebekah cuts in before Klaus can continue their bickering, and Elijah narrows his eyes at the determined gleam in her eyes.

“I don’t like this,”

Rebekah dismisses him with a flutter of her fingers. “The next person to walk through that door, I want you to go and talk to them. You don’t have to have a one night stand, you absolute prude, but you need to speak to someone that you’re not related to, and that isn’t trying to kill you.”

“Rebekah—”

“I don’t want to hear it. Just do this one thing for me, for your darling little sister,”

“My darling little sister—”

“Shut up, look! Someone’s walking inside, get ready to go be your charming self,”

Elijah groans and turns to look at the door as it opens and someone walks through. He sighs again, weighted, empty, scared.

When he lifts his gaze, though, he finds a woman. He takes her in— eyes, nose, lips, hair— and thinks beautiful.

The bar is as crowded as ever, no breaks in sight for the bartenders and waiters, and he’s tucked away at a table with Klaus and Rebekah in the back corner because they are particularly antisocial and Klaus really just wanted to use this outing as a way to remind everyone that they are still here, and that New Orleans is still theirs. The exit is across the room, Elijah has not paid much attention to the distance at all, and yet now.

Now, the crowd of people in between him and the door is frozen and endless. Elijah’s standing before he realizes, and it feels like he’s stepping around the people frozen mid-laugh, mid-drink, mid-bite, because the world has stopped just long enough for him to cross the room.

He parts the crowd and stops before her, eyes roaming over her face. Committing it to memory and vowing to keep it there for the rest of his eternal years.

She looks at him with a smile, blinking at him slowly like she’s got all the time in the world. There’s a necklace sitting on her chest that has a familiar blue stone hanging off of it and he inhales sharply.

He thinks vampire, perhaps a coincidence but things rarely are for him and it’s something new to think that she is immortal, too, of course more fragile than an Original but if she’s smart, and he knows that she is, he can feel it, then she’ll last just as long.

“Hi,” She speaks first, and the world starts up again, the noise comes back and people unfreeze. Now that he’s stood here before her, the world can keep spinning, but it had to wait— it just had to wait for him to catch up.

“Hello,” He responds quietly, too quiet for the bar, but she hears it anyway. “I’m Elijah.”

Her smile widens and she says, “I think I knew that already,” and then she tells him her name and Elijah repeats it for himself, and then for her, and then he turns it over in his head a hundred times over so it never gets lost.

She tilts her head slightly, looking up at him. “Were you trying to leave? Am I in your way?”

“No,” He responds quickly, almost rushed. “Not unless you’re leaving, too.”

She seems pleased at his response and the longer he looks in her eyes, he thinks he’s found a new favorite color.

“I’m not leaving,”

Elijah exhales, and the weight is gone, and the void is no more. And he thinks— oh.

There you are.

[andreafmn]

Requite | Chapter 1

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: When everything seems to fall into place in Forks, Washington, a string of mysterious deaths call the attention of both vampires and werewolves in town. As the redheaded vampire returns with her mind set on revenge, (Y/N) and Bella Swan find themselves in the center of danger once again. With secrets still lingering between them about their past best friend, they will find themselves stuck in a whirlwind of love, betrayal, and the hardest choices they’ll have to make. But one thing is certain: no one will go a day without a taste for vengeance. 

<- Previous

Calm in a town like Forks was a mirage. Or, at times, it was simply a distraction. While the supernatural walked amongst the land, there would never be calm and tranquility. Their existence was enough to shift the balance of the universe, and it would always find a way to rectify itself. Even just a couple of days could send the small town down a whirlwind, regardless of who got caught in the middle of the current.  

(Y/N) Swan didn't know that yet. At that moment, she thought she had faced her worst battle yet. She had survived a vampire attack; she had saved her sister from drowning in the ocean, and she had even endured an abusive relationship. There couldn't be anything else thrown her way that could be worse.  

Or so she thought. But of course, hindsight is twenty-twenty.  

Finals were approaching, and (Y/N) had never wanted to go back to homeschooling more than at that moment. For the better part of a year, she had been able to focus on her schoolwork at her own pace. In school, she had to submit to her teacher's pace. If she had it her way, she would have already been done with her year's curriculum. Instead, she was buried up to her nose in her and Bella's books.  

“So, dad gave me another letter from Jacob,” Bella muttered as she closed her history book, seemingly over the topic. “Seems he really wants to talk. Although it seems he's not sure about what.”  

Bella passed the piece of paper to her sister, her eyes searching for any answers on (Y/N)'s face. But the younger Swan remained stoic as she perused the letter. Jacob had started over seven times, angrily scratching over every sentence until he left a vague plea to see the older Swan and explain everything that had gone down behind her back. In between strikes, he said he felt like a schoolboy asking Charlie to hand over notes. He asked her to pick up the phone. He begged her to talk to him before he talked to her own sister. Most of all, he asked her not to choose Edward. 

Every letter for the past few weeks had been the same. Angry and desperate requests to see Bella before (Y/N) told her the truth of what he had done. Every letter was accompanied by a frenzied call, his voice always distressed and anguished over the receiver and always picked up by Charlie. And every time, he received the same answer. Bella didn't want to speak to him, and (Y/N) had not said anything.  

The younger girl wasn't sure why she was protecting him. Jacob had done atrocious things deliberately. He had manipulated, belittled, and dismissed her for months. He had quite literally left her for dead when she had faced a murderous vampire. He had used her feelings for him to get closer to her sister. Jake had chewed her up and spat her out when he had been done with her. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to turn her family against him—much to Paul's dismay.  

(Y/N) had made Paul promise he would not tell anyone what Jacob had done. Not when Bella cornered him at night when he snuck in, not when her father tried to coax it out of him when he joined them for Saturday breakfasts or Sunday dinners, and definitely not when he had asked her to his senior prom in front of both Swans.  

“When are you gonna tell me what happened?” Bella asked as (Y/N) folded the note back up. “Don't you think I should know if I'm ever gonna talk to him again?”  

“There's not really much to say,” the younger girl shrugged as she closed the books in front of her. “I won't stop you from being his friend, Bella. Whatever happened between us happened—it's not gonna change no matter how much we talk about it.”  

“What if I just ask him about it?” her sister offered. “Will you be fine with that?” 

“You can do whatever you want, Bells,” she said. “But believe me when I say he’s not gonna tell you anything.” 

“Don't you think I should know his true character if I'm gonna associate myself with him?” her sister pushed, exasperated. “(Y/N), the things I know he did are bad, but I need to know the whole truth if I'm ever gonna start to think to forgive him.”  

Before she could answer or even give herself time to make up her mind, her attention turned to a peculiar smell in the air. The sisters exchanged a questioning gaze before leaving their books on Bella’s bed and following the scent all the way to the kitchen. There, Charlie was fanning smoke coming from the stove, the open window blowing the cloud back inside rather than helping to keep it out of the house. The smell of wood and pine mixed with the smoke in the kitchen created a choking and uncomfortable environment.  

“What are you doing, dad?” Bella exclaimed as she opened the microwave only seconds before a catastrophe while (Y/N)turned off the burner their father had neglected. “Trynna burn down the house?” 

“Oh! Girls!” he exclaimed as he finally noticed their presence. “I, uh, I was trying to make dinner.”  

“You put a jar of sauce in the microwave,” the older daughter sighed. “With the lid on. Yeah, metal and microwaves don't really mix well.” 

“Did I at least get the pasta right?” Charlie questioned expectantly. “It's just boiling water.”  

“Well, yeah, but you should stir it too,” (Y/N) chuckled. “And maybe add enough water for the noodles inside. That usually helps the pasta not stick to the pot and burn.”  

“I'll take that into consideration for next time.”  

Bella and (Y/N) exchanged a worried look, knowing their father would not have been caught dead in the kitchen had he not had something to say. It was written on his face—something was clouding his mind. His brow was furrowed, his shoulders were tense, and there was concern plastered across his features. Charlie had something to say, and he was trying to let it go down with a plate of burnt spaghetti.  

(Y/N) was the first one to talk, curious about her father's behavior. “What's going on, dad?” she inquired as she tried to clear out the burnt sludge in the pot. “Why the sudden need to cook us a meal?”  

“It's not illegal for me to make a meal,” he argued. “Especially not in my own house.”  

The sisters exchanged the same look once more, unsure what it could be that he was hiding. He was avoiding their gaze, focusing on the last bits of smoke that disappeared into the rainy day. 

 “You would know, huh?” Bella teased, staring at the badge shining on his jacket.  

“Yeah,” he chuckled dryly. “Good one.”  

Charlie was quiet after that, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the rack that had housed his gun sling for the better part of the week. Ever since the pack didn't have to investigate the odd slaughtered hitchhiker, no one had reported sightings of the massive, mysterious wolves. Of course, the man didn't know that, but he was glad the semblance of calm had returned to the small town.  

Silence rained in the Swan household as Charlie sat at the table with the newspaper and Bella worked on cleaning the rest of the pasta pot. (Y/N) couldn’t handle the tension, feeling herself drowning in the unease of the room. There were too many unspoken words between the three of them, and there didn’t seem to be a confession coming from any of them.  

“Well, why don’t I run out to the diner and get us some food?” (Y/N) offered. “Dad, thank you for trying to make us some dinner, but I would like to eat something tonight—something edible.”   

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he said, clearing his throat. “Is, uh, is your, uh, boy, uh, friend, uh, your friend Paul coming over tonight?”   

“During stipulated visiting hours,” she chuckled, “yeah.”  

“Alright, get him something too, then,” her father instructed before moving his gaze back to the paper in his hands. "Take some money from my wallet. It's in the inside pocket of the jacket.”  

“Cool. I'll be back soon.”  

“I'll call ahead, so the order is almost done when you get there,” Bella announced. “Make sure they pack my order of onion rings.”  

"Will do,” (Y/N) said, slipping on her jacket and pulling up the hood. “Be right back.” 

She pulled her phone out as she made her way to her truck, clicking on the number three on her speed dial. But before the line could ring more than once, arms wrapped around her, and she was lifted off the ground. An undeniable warmth engulfed her, and she couldn't help the laugh that left her throat. “Paul,” she shrieked joyfully as he spun her around. “You're early.”  

“And you're on your way to get some food,” the boy smiled brightly as he turned her to face him. “I'll go with you.” 

“How could I say no to such a tempting offer?” (Y/N) smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck before giving him a small kiss. “And you should be wearing a jacket in this weather. I know you don't need it, but others don't know that.”  

“Well, I would have worn the hoodie I left in the truck, but it seems like it has a new owner.”  

“I told you, whatever's left in the car is mine,” she grinned. “Not my fault you can't keep track of your belongings.”  

“Let's just go get the food before your dad starts to wonder what's taking so long,” he chuckled. “I think I'm finally winning him over.”  

 (Y/N) laughed as they got into her truck. She had started getting used to Paul appearing out of nowhere, filling her quiet and empty moments with his laughter and wild occurrences. He had become a welcome constant in her life, and she couldn't remember a time when he wasn't in it. “I don't think dad will ever warm up again to the idea of another guy dating one of his daughters,” she teased. “But if anyone has a chance, it would definitely be you.”  

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. And here I was thinking I had a leg up on everyone.” 

“Hey, he's getting you food,” (Y/N) laughed. “He likes you enough. At least he likes you more than Jacob. Even Bella sorta likes you.”  

“I take it you still haven't told them what happened,” Paul asked, taking her hand in his and giving it a comforting squeeze. “At least your sister should know what that idiot really did to you to cut him out from her life completely.”  

“And what good would that do?” the girl sighed. “It won't change what happened, nor would it serve her to lose one of the only people she can call a friend.” 

“Do you really think he's the kind of friend Bella should have? Should she really keep someone that would have let her sister die by her side?”  

“Can we not talk about him?” (Y/N) argued, turning the truck into the diner parking lot. “I don't want to waste my time on him anymore—not now and definitely not later.”  

“(Y/N)...”  

“No more talk about him, Paul,” she said firmly as she killed the engine and turned to face him. “If you mention him again, there will be consequences. Starting with locking my window at night.”  

"You drive a hard bargain,” Paul replied while cradling her chin in his hand. “And it seems I don't have another choice but to agree.”  

With a chaste kiss, they left the truck, walking hand-in-hand into The Lodge like they had done it a million times before. It was easy for everything to feel natural with Paul. Being with him made her heart feel at peace. And after all she had been through in the short time she had resided in Forks, she more than welcomed it. In hindsight, (Y/N) knew she had played a hand in all the hardship that had befallen her. She ignored how she felt about Paul; she pushed him away over trivial miscommunications, and she had stayed with Jacob for far longer than she ever should have.  

“Is this gonna become a weekly thing, huh?” Cora, the waitress who always took their order, said with a smile. “What is this now three weeks in a row that you two have come in?”  

“Something like that,” (Y/N) chuckled. “This time is because dad tried to cook dinner. And well, that never goes down as well as it should.”  

“What'd he burn this time?”  

“Spaghetti,” the girl smiled. “And he tried to microwave a jar of sauce with the lid on.”  

“Charlie should really just stick to the police work,” the woman laughed. “And you came in just in time. Steak with cobbler; a double medium-well Lodge burger with extra bacon and onions and cheesy fries; a single bacon cheeseburger with cheese and bacon friends; and a veggie burger—which has surprisingly become a best-seller since we put it on the menu last year—with onion rings. I threw in a couple of slices of apple pie slices in there for you guys. On the house.” 

“Thank you, Cora. But could I trouble you with replacing two of the slices with some chocolate cream pie?” Paul asked, sporting his award-winning smile. “As good as it is, (Y/N) here is allergic to apples, and I wouldn't want her to miss out on dessert.”  

“Oh my goodness, sweetheart. I completely forgot!” Cora exclaimed as she scrambled to the pie display. “Tell you what, you keep those extra slices, and I'll give you three of the chocolate. And I'm gonna leave a note right here so no one forgets.”  

“You don't have to do all that, Cora,” (Y/N) said. “It was an honest mistake.”  

“Nonsense, (Y/N),” she smiled. “I'm happy to do it. And between you and me, I like the chocolate one better. Your boy here has really good taste.”  

“That he does,” the younger Swan replied as she felt heat flush to her face. She paid for the food, handing Paul the bags as she put away the change, ignoring the teasing stare the waitress was sending her way. “Thanks for everything, Cora. I’ll see you next week.”  

“See you, sweetie,” she called back. “Say hi to your dad and your sister for me.”  

“Will do!”  

(Y/N) felt stupid with how much she was smiling. Paul had remembered her apple allergy, he held doors open for her, he remembered her favorite pie. They were bare minimum standards, but she couldn’t help the joy that overtook her when he did them. Paul knew her in the most simplistic of senses, and she couldn't believe she had stopped herself from feeling that way.  

“You remembered my apple allergy,” she smiled, bumping his shoulder as they walked back to the truck. “Thank you.”  

“I should be able to remember the fact that my girlfriend's throat could close if she eats apples,” Paul chuckled. “It's not a fact I should gloss over.”  

The girl stopped in her tracks at his words, realization sinking in. “What was that?”  

“What?”  

“What you just said.”  

“That I should know apples could possibly kill my girlfriend?” he chuckled again, unsure what he had said wrong. “What about it?”  

“You called me your girlfriend, Paul,” (Y/N) stated. “You've never called me your girlfriend before.”  

“Oh, uh, well, you know, I didn't... we haven't had the talk but... you know,” he stammered awkwardly, his skin growing red as he scrambled for the right words. “Is it okay that I call you my girlfriend?”  

(Y/N) smiled before standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on Paul's lips. “It is more than okay,” she beamed. “I like the sound of it. Especially when it's said by my boyfriend.”  

“That does sound good, huh?” Paul circled his free arm around her shoulders before kissing the top of her head. “Now, let's get this food to your house before your dad thinks I've kidnapped you.”  

Like mere minutes before, Paul and (Y/N) were back in her truck, the smell of diner food filling the cabin, and heading back to the house. Just the month before, the youngest Swan could never have thought she would be where she was. With Jacob, she couldn't see farther than a couple of weeks down the road—not that it mattered in the end. There were so many parts of her that had become overwhelmed with the darkness of their relationship, lost in the endless void that came with being close to Jake.  

None of that mattered now, though. Happiness had found itself back in her life, and it seemed to start infecting the rest of the Swans. Charlie and Bella cheered when the couple arrived with the food, making space on the table for the bags. The older Swan girl placed the food on plates as Paul and (Y/N) served drinks for the table. Peering into the windows of the house, no one would have guessed all the pain that had led to that moment.  

By the time they had reached the desserts, Bella had picked up her discarded Wuthering Heights book while Paul and (Y/N) whispered amongst themselves. It was a rather normal scene for a less-than-normal family.  

“So, um,” Charlie cleared his throat as he wiped his mouth, “I did have a reason for cooking dinner for you guys, as you may have guessed.”  

“Is that what that smell was?” Paul mumbled.  

Trying to stifle her laughter, (Y/N) placed a hand on his forearm and whispered, “Not right now, Paul.”  

“Anyway, it's regarding your grounding, Bella,” the man continued, focusing his gaze on his oldest daughter rather than the boy who’d seemed to invade his new family dinners. “I’m not very good at this whole grounding thing, and you are far too good a kid for being grounded. You haven't complained, you've come home at curfew, and that boy hasn't stepped foot in my house since he came back—which I much appreciate.”  

“You did say he couldn't come over,” Bella stated, a hint of a laugh hiding under her words. “But I don't want him over—not for now, at least.” 

“Well, good. I think it's about time you were up for some parole,” Charlie said, a tentative smile tugging at his lips. “I just hope you take this time to reconnect with your old friends and focus on something other than those Cullens.”  

Bella finally set down her book, saving her spot with a clean napkin. “I've been trying to do that, dad,” the girl admitted. “I know I haven’t been myself these last few months, and I broke your trust by leaving with Alice, but I do want you to know I’ve been trying to change.”  

“I know, Bells, and I've seen that,” he smiled. “That's why I think it's time you get some of your freedom back. As long as you're prudent with it.”  

“Right, no one wants a repeat of the past few months,” she laughed. “But I do appreciate you trusting me again, dad. I promise to do my hardest to make you proud, even if it takes forever.”  

“I'm already proud of you, Bells,” Charlie said. “I'm proud of both of you girls—no matter what. All I want is for you to be happy and fulfilled by whatever you want in life. Especially you, Bella. Now that you're about to enter a new stage in your life.”  

The man slipped an open envelope toward his oldest daughter while he tried his best to conceal the smile that threatened to stretch across his face. “You opened it,” Bella noted. “That's a felony, Sheriff.”  

“Couldn't help myself,” her father beamed as she pulled the papers out of the envelope. “Congratulations, kid.  This is just the first of many.” 

University of Alaska Southeast had been one of the only colleges Bella had personally applied to. Unlike some of the schools (Y/N) and Charlie had sent applications to using some of her old essays, she knew she could get in. And it did help that Juneau was overcast most days of the year, given she didn't know just how long she had before she had to face the inevitable. Regardless of what Edward had told her, there was no way to know when the Volturi would come to make sure their word had been made law.  

She received her sister's congratulatory hug and Paul's words, unsure how else to respond. The girl knew she should have been happier—it was her future after all. But she couldn't help the dread that filled her as she thought about giving it up. There wouldn't be any human experiences she would be able to live through—emphasis on the human. Once she was turned into an immortal monster, that's all she would know.  

“What about you, Paul?” Charlie asked, clearing his throat and breaking his oldest daughter out of deep thought. “What're your plans after school, kid?”  

“Uh, well,” the boy stammered, straightening his posture. (Y/N) stifled a laugh as she shared a knowing look with Bella. Their father loved interrogating anyone who stepped foot in his house, and it was Paul's turn to get a grilling. “I was, um, accepted at Western. I'm still undecided, but I'm thinking of getting a degree in Manufacturing Engineering. Still, I'll have to defer for a year.” 

“Why's that?”  

“Financial aid only covers so much, and I don't really want to get loans,” he explained. “The counselor at school said I could accept Western's offer and defer for a year while I worked with my dad to save up some money. That way, I'll have something to tide me over my freshman year.”  

Paul squeezed (Y/N)'s hand under the table and fought back a smile when squeezed back, mentally repeating the script he had practiced the night before with the youngest Swan. If there was one thing she knew, it was that her father was predictable.  

“Well, it seems you've got a good plan there,” Charlie said, sounding almost impressed. “That's good. So, engineering, huh?”  

The boy droned on about what he liked about the degree when Bella's phone chirped twice with a text message. Invested in their conversation, Charlie and Paul did not notice the frown that pulled the corners of the girl's mouth, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. (Y/N) noticed, though, and she pointed toward the living room. The two sisters left the conversation about college and hoped they were just out of hearing distance for privacy.  

“Is everything okay?” (Y/N) questioned. “Who texted?”  

Bella handed her younger sister her phone, allowing her a moment to read. “Edward sent a picture of today's newspaper,” she said. “Apparently, the deaths that have been happening in Seattle that have dad grouchy are newborn vampires running rampant.”  

“And Jacob wants to talk,” (Y/N) added, feeling a knot forming in her throat. “He's really persistent, huh?’  

“(Y/N), you need to tell me what happened between you two.”  

“God, it's not gonna change anything,” the girl groaned. “Why can't everyone just let it go?”  

“Fine, I'll drop it,” Bella said. “I'll just go over to La Push and get his version.”  

A/N: teased y'all for long enough with that little prologue, but strap in. This book is gonna be one hell of a ride 🤭 If you used to be tagged in Speak and would like to be tagged in Requite, you will need to fill out the form below. Once Tumblr stops allowing the tag list, I will be closing it. If you’d like to be tagged: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

Taglist: @lepetitlu @galactict3a @eddiefrickenmunson @stvrrlighttt @gh0stgurl @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r @nj01

[really-fanny-longbottom]

tears in pages

summary: because no matter how much time passes, cassian will never forget his first love.

warnings: angst/mentions of arranged marriage, smut, heartbreak, death, grieving and injuries

pairings: cassian x reader

words: 8k (i think?)

love. 

a word.

four letters. 

one feeling. 

infinite meanings. 

love is such a strange feeling that it can vary in so many ways. 

it can provoke so many emotions at the same time, both negative and positive. 

it can make us dream, smile, and celebrate. 

it can make us suffer, cry, and grieve. 

how can such a small word have such an impactful meaning? 

those who manage to have it once in their lives are considered lucky, those who find it more than once are considered blessed.

but that was not the case with cassian. 

having grown up as he did, in a place surrounded by mountains and by males who despised him, with the words 'bastard' and 'brute' used as greetings, he never imagined himself capable of witnessing such a feeling. 

how could he, when all his life he had to fight for everything, even for the bare minimum?

fortunately, cassian's life took a happy turn, when a few years later, the nose of a young heir with violet eyes and black hair met his fist. 

followed by a quiet and shy boy who had small shadows as companions. 

and a brown-eyed blonde with a great obsession for red clothes and an incredible sense of humor. 

ending with a silver-eyed creature with the age of a god and the feeding habits of a vampire. 

but that was never the kind of love that cassian felt unworthy of having. 

not the kind of love that is meant for family or that can be shared between friends. 

but the love that is reserved for that special person who appears in your life and makes you wonder how you could have lived until that moment without them. 

of the love that makes your stomach tingle with butterflies, of the blushing cheeks that make you look like a certain vegetable and of the smile that can light up the sky on the darkest night.

cassian, who thought he was nothing in life, had a big surprise when he discovered that he was actually blessed.

the question that many ask and few know the answer to: who was the lucky one to first occupy the heart of the general of the night court?

for those who don't know him, they say that nesta archeron is his first love — the mating bond that revealed itself between the two serving as proof of such a statement.

for those who know him a little better, their answers would be tanwyn — the fearless valkyrie who lost her life in the war.

both answers are incorrect.

cassian's journey in love did not begin with either of them.

with only his family as witnesses to the true answer, as they too were blessed to have cassian's first love as a friend — if not a family member.

the story begins with a human girl with a heart bigger than the world, a smile sweeter than honey and eyes so blue they could rival the sea. 

a human girl who was running away from a life she didn't want and whose escape led her to a certain general.

a human girl who stole everyone's heart, with her first victim being cassian's heart. 

her name was y/n. 

•••

he has a mate.

he had never imagined himself in this position.

cassian still didn't know how to process this new information.

he has another chance at love, but not with the person his heart still beats for.

the general found refuge in his room, where he could better organize his thoughts.

one thing he knew — he liked nesta. but loving her? that felt like a betrayal. 

cassian unrolled the paper he held in his hands. although the paper already showed signs of age, the drawing remained intact. 

cassian couldn't take his eyes off that beautiful face — the face he had been blessed to see, love, and caress. it felt like it was a lifetime ago.

"she's beautiful."

the voice startled him. he had been so focused that he hadn't even realized nesta had entered the bedroom.

"i'm sorry, i just wanted to see if you were okay," nesta moved a little closer to him, "you disappeared so quickly after the. . .the bond snapped, and i just want you to know that if you don't want me as your mate, i understand-" 

"sit down," cassian instructed, indicating the space next to him on the bed. "i have something to show you." 

nesta obeyed and watched as cassian fought a battle against himself. following his gaze, she saw what was bothering him so much. 

cassian's eyes were fixed on a small basket that was stored in the corner of the wall next to the bed.

cassian felt tears immediately invade him. 

that damn basket.

every time he looked at it, he was taken back to the past.

but he loved that basket. it was the only physical reminder of the best time of his life.

he painted it that way with his own hands after. . . it took him two weeks to finish.

that damn purple basket with white flowers. 

cassian cursed before getting up slightly from the bed and grabbing one of its handles, dragging it until it was at his feet. 

all the letters were still inside — all of them.

there were more than a hundred in all, some more intimate than others — those ones, cassian didn't dare to read again because he believed his heart couldn't handle going through it again. 

for that very reason, he grabbed his favorites and handed them to nesta.

"here," cassian's hand shook slightly, as did his voice, "read these and you'll understand everything."  

nesta leafed through all the letters in her hands, confusion showing in her furrowed brows. "what are these?"

cassian let out a deep sigh "read them. they'll explain everything." 

she nodded, and so she picked up the first letter and read it. 

•••

dear cassian, today is the third day since i've been back and i'm afraid i have to admit that i miss you already. everything remains the same around here, it feels like i never left. last night, i had an argument with my parents about what had happened. i was very vague about everything, but i did confess that there had been someone and i'm glad i did, because joffrey broke off the engagement this morning. apparently, he no longer has any interest in me now that i'm not 'pure' according to his words. he thinks he humiliated me but in fact he did me a big favor. i went for a walk in the forest this morning and it reminded me of the day we met. do you remember that day? little did we know the adventure that awaited us, and how wonderful it was, don't you agree? with love, y/n 

cassian hated patrol work. he always thought that, next to filling out reports, this was the worst.

normally, this task fell to the spymaster, but with azriel on a mission, the task fell to him.

cassian had already made several rounds and was doing the last border check at the spring court.

everything was fine, until something caught his attention. running through the trees, as if her life depended on it, was a young woman — human.

cassian was surprised. it was very rare for humans to come this far, what was she doing there?

the justification he was looking for appeared when a boy appeared through the trees.

at the speed she was running, it was impossible for this situation to be friendly.

cassian didn't know what to do — he knows he's not supposed to interact with humans, but he couldn't just leave knowing he would hurt her. 

so he did the unthinkable. 

with extreme precision, cassian landed on the ground and began searching for her, following the sound of her footsteps.

when the sound stopped, cassian did too. looking around, he couldn't find anything. his ears didn't prepare him for the body that collided with his chest, knocking the small human to the ground. 

cassian looked at her on the ground. he wonder how long it would take for her to scream and run away.

but that was forgotten when she raised her head.

your eyes, an immense blue, cast a spell over cassian, who found himself lost in them.

never had he seen such blue eyes, not even with the summer or winter fae.

cassian was lost for words and flustered. without even thinking, he reached out a hand and he had the surprise of his life when you placed your small hand in his too large one and allowed him to help you get up. 

"thank you."

cassian had to compose himself before saying, "are you okay?"

his question went unanswered as you were too busy admiring him to listen "wow, you look like a god."

"oh." cassian found himself caught off guard — again.

"so pretty."

cassian blushed. what was going on? he had never blushed before but then again no one had ever called him pretty.

before cassian could speak, several footsteps were heard before the man who was chasing you appeared before you.

you moved behind the general and grabbed his arm as a form of protection.

a human trusted him more — a fae she barely knew than the person in front of him?

cassian didn't like that. the guy paled in front of the general, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

"is there a problem?" cassian asked him.

the man began to stutter, unable to formulate a word.

"leave me alone, joffrey. i already told you i'm not going to marry you."

suddenly, joffrey looked at you and his face took on an angry look and when he took a step forward, cassian did too.

joffrey didn't have a chance to take another step, when at the general's movement, he fell to the ground before start running while shouting.

from behind him, laughter was heard. cassian turned to find you and saw you trying to hold back your laughter.

mimicking your smile, cassian pointed in the direction where the guy had been before asking, "your fiancé?"

"arranged marriage." you explained.

"um, aren't you happy?"

"joffrey is horrible. i'd be better off married to a horse than him."

a deep chuckle erupted from the male. you were undoubtedly an interesting human "you're not afraid of me."

"why would i be?" 

"because i'm a fae?" 

"i don't judge people based on their appearance."

that made him shut up and cassian realized it was true. everyone ran away when they saw a fae and here you were, sympathizing with one.

cassian watched you look around.

"i can't go back. if i do, i'll be forced to marry him."

when you reached up to brush your hair away from your face, you noticed the wound on your hand. "is. . .this. . .is this blo. . .blood?"

cassian didn't have time to respond before you passed out. he caught you and lifted you up in his arms, and that sight did something to him.

you did something to him.

and just like that, cassian did the unthinkable a second time that day and took you to velaris with him.

•••

dear cassian, i had an interesting week. i found an injured cat on my way back from the market. the poor thing had a hurt paw and was a little sick, so of course i took him home with me. i fed him, tended to his wound, kept him warm and clean, and made sure he got better. by the end of the week, he was as good as new. i don't know how, but i managed to convince my father to keep him, so now i have a new companion. i named him amren because he looks so much like her. you know what this reminded me of? when you got sick and i took care of you. it was a funny experience, wasn't it? with love, y/n

cassian felt terrible but not as terrible as he would make azriel feel after beating him in the ring for making him sick.

the shadowsinger had returned from his mission in windhaven where he had caught the illyrian flu and now all three brothers were sick.

he was going to make his brother pay, but before he had a chance to think how, his door was opened.

you walked in with a bowl of hot soup in one hand and a large box in the other.

"how is the sick boy?"

"horrible."

a chuckle ran through the room before cassian felt his mattress dip. you made him stand up a little before dipping the spoon into the soup and turning it to him.

"i can eat on my own, thank you." cassian knew how his brothers would tease him for the rest of his life if they saw him being fed by you.

"allow me," you insisted. "you took care of me when i first got here and the small lady said i couldn't get out of bed."

cassian laughed at your description of madja. when he brought you in, she had examined you and discovered that you were severely dehydrated and a little malnourished from the run in the forest and forced you to rest for a week.

cassian took care of you the entire time without ever complaining.

he pointed a finger at you before swallowing the soup. "this can never get out of here."

more giggles reached cassian's ears. how he loved that sound.

"yes, sir general."

cassian ate the soup and ended up repeating after praising your cooking skills one too many times.

board games and cards followed. when cassian's temperature rose, you placed a cold towel on his forehead and read him some poems to help him fall asleep.

a few hours later, rhys went to his brother's room to see how he was doing and was surprised when he saw the two of you.

cassian slept on your chest with his arm around your waist, and you slept with your head resting on his, one arm around his shoulders while the other still held the book.

rhys smiled, and left you two to dream.

•••

dear cassian, autumn is here. this morning, while i was in the garden reading, i had the opportunity to see the flocks of birds migrating. i spent a long time watching them and thinking how lucky they are. it reminded me of the day you took me flying for the first time and how incredible it was. what i would give to fly with you one more time. with love, y/n

"i won't let you fall."

your nervous look made cassian chuckle. the male stood in front of you as he watched you stare at the city below.

"don't you want to go see the city?" 

"of course i do!" you replied, "but humans don't fly."

a round of laughter invaded cassian, he loved the way you were so direct and straightforward. 

two weeks had passed since your arrival, and you kept talking about how you wanted to see the city.

even though it was night, cassian had told you how beautiful it is at night, leading the two of you to the balcony.

approaching you, cassian took your hand and when you looked away from him he placed a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him "you're safe with me, sweetheart."

your eyes acquired a shine that made cassian's heart skip a beat "promise?"

as he placed a light kiss on your hand, cassian promised you.

the general lifted you in his arms and took flight. your body was invaded by adrenaline, making you hide your head in the male's neck for the first few seconds. but with his encouragement, you opened your eyes.

the sparkle returned to your eyes and you felt like you were in a real fairy tale.

it seemed like a dream — the city lit up by stars, the rainbow bridge, the river under the moonlight, people dancing and singing in the streets.

you were so taken aback by everything that your eyes didn't even look away when cassian spoke. "i have an idea. do you trust me?"

"with my life."

cassian felt the weight of your words, but before he could think too much about them, he hugged you around your waist, making you fall into his embrace and stay underneath him.

cassian descended his flight and took you straight to the river where he lowered you until your hands could reach the water.

you stretched out your arms and felt the cold water tickle you making you laugh nonstop. you traveled the entire river, until cassian lifted you higher again, but you kept your arms open the whole time.

it seemed like you were really flying.

freedom and magic had never seemed more beautiful to you.

you smiled all night.

•••

dear cassian, today i was invaded by one of the best memories ever. my mother braided my hair for church and i couldn't help but blush and giggle almost the entire time. i was greeted by strange looks from her but it didn't bother me at all. how could it be when i was thinking about you? that night was special, wasn't it? i know it was for me. with love, y/n

today was one of those days.

the one that cassian just wanted to end. his mother's birthday was always a difficult day for him, and if he could, he would just skip it completely. 

in an attempt to feel better, cassian went in search of the only thing that offer him comfort these days. 

three knocks on the wooden door and a second later, cassian entered the room and upon seeing your smiling face, the tension that tormented him left his body.

you greeted him with a smile so big that it almost disarmed the general completely.

"hey, big boy." several giggles followed your greeting.

cassian couldn't help the giggles that also came out of him, as he closed the door and headed towards the bed where you were sitting.

"hey, little one." cassian was enjoying this new type of flirting — innocent and pure, true and funny, with no ulterior motives. 

you were already ready for bed. your nightgown was white and one of the straps was hanging down because you were finishing braiding your hair. 

his troat got a little dry.

"are you okay? you look a little sad." 

cassian's eyes shifted back to yours, and his heart warmed at your kindness. 

"i'm fine. it's just one of those days." 

understanding dawned on your face, "well, lucky for you, i have the best medicine for that." 

amusement filled cassian's face. raising an eyebrow, he asked "it's that so?" 

nodding your head, you grabbed his hand and led him to sit in front of you on the floor. 

cassian ignored the feeling of your bare legs on either side of his shoulders, your soft and smooth skin touching the skin of his arms. 

moments later, cassian felt his hair being combed on one side while the other was caressed by your fingers. 

the general immediately relaxed. closing his eyes, he let his back fall against the bed, filling all the space between you.

"my grandmother used to do this to me when i was little, especially when i was sad. it was impossible not to feel better after."

"were you close?" cassian found himself asking. 

"a lot, there were times when i considered her more my mother than my own mother." 

"you must have loved her very much."

several giggles came out of you. "i did, but we never used that expression." 

through the mirror, you watched cassian frown in confusion, causing you to laugh again "what do you mean?"

"my grandmother was a complicated woman. when she was younger, she didn't believe in love. she thought it was impossible to love someone more than anything." 

cassian listened attentively to every word you said.

"until she met my grandfather. she said that whenever she was with him, her heart beat faster, as if it was beating for him, and not for her. as if her heart belonged to him." 

cassian found your face in the mirror, and the smile you wore as you brushed his hair made him give a matching smile. 

you were talking with so much love, so much adoration.

"whenever she wanted to express her love for my grandfather, she would say 'my heart beats for you'. i've always loved that expression, i think it's much more sincere than the other one to be honest." 

your expression of adoration was replaced by one of surprise "i've never told anyone this before."  

cassian realized what you meant behind those words and before he could stop himself, he took a leap of confidence.

"today would be my mother's birthday." 

and so, the two of you talked all night long. 

cassian told you about his mother, about his  childhood, about the war, about everything.

you hugged him, wiped his tears, and kissed his cheeks — he blushed but you pretended you didn't notice.

you ended up braiding his hair while telling him how you wanted to be a teacher and open your own school for girls and boys because in your village only men could study.

how you wanted to help improve the future lives of those girls who were just as deserving of a good life as any boy. 

cassian found himself wondering how could you be this perfect and how lucky he felt that he was the one to find you.

in the future, when anyone asked him about the moment he fell in love with you, cassian would talk about this night. 

•••

dear cassian, i miss my days in prythian. i miss you. i don't want to be human anymore. i want you. y/n

the restaurants cassian took you to so you could sample the delicious food velaris offered, including the bakeries where cassian discovered you had a sweet tooth for chocolate cake. he found himself wiping chocolate off your chin several times.

the nights at rita's where you and rhysand did karaoke side by side, acting like superstars.

your chess battles with amren, and how she could never win a single game against you, always claiming that you were cheating.

the girls' nights with morrigan, and the shopping trips she took you on.

the reading time with azriel, where just the company of each other was enough for you.

the training sessions between azriel and cassian that brought your not-so-decent scenarios with the general to life in your mind.

the night flights in cassian's arms.

the nights when you always braided his hair so that it wouldn't get knotted while he slept.

your discovery of green herbal tea that helped cassian with his allergies.

the night you outlined cassian's tattoos as a way to help him relax after a hard day.

and your favorite. your birthday when the inner circle organized a surprise party for you and cassian gave you what become your favorite piece of clothing — a purple dress with white flowers.

•••

dear cassian, the first rain has come to my village and with it has brought back some memories. i spent most of the afternoon sitting by the window just to appreciate the view. when i was questioned from my mother about my doings, i gave her this same answer and she looked at me strangely, saying that there was nothing beautiful to appreciate. oh, cass, how wrong she is. i haven't been able to get you out of my head since the first drops touched the earth. what a special day that was for us. dare i say one of the best? i will cherish that day forever as long as my memory allows it, but i know that it will always remain in my heart. how could i forget, when that was the day i felt alive again in a long time? i just hope you felt the same way. with love, y/n

it was raining non-stop.

what had started out as a sunny day had quickly turned into a gray one.

you and cassian struggled not to slip on the wet dirt as you ran to the cabin.

the cabin by the lake that rhysand had lent you for a weekend together. you had gone to visit a fair that was taking place in a nearby village before the rain changed your plans.

cassian knew that your time together was coming to an end, and that this was rhys's way of letting you say goodbye to each other, and for that, he was grateful.

holding hands, only your laughter and the rain were audible.

looking at you, cassian saw your smile, the one he likes so much. a pang sounded in his heart and forced him to stop.

"what's wrong?" you asked when you noticed.

"i don't know what you're doing to me."

confusion fell over your face "what?"

"the things you're making me feel. i've never felt anything like this before."

the world stopped. suddenly, it was just you and him, him and you. the only audible sound was the beating of your hearts.

"my heart beats for you." he confessed, "he's been beating for you for some time now."

several tears ran down your face and your breath got caught in your throat.

this was really happening.

a big smile formed on your face "my heart beats for you, too."

a great sigh of relief left his mouth, with a smile that matched yours, the general didn't waste another moment to do what he had been dreaming of doing for weeks.

he kissed you with all his strength.

you who were stealing his heart since the day he saw you.

you returned the kiss immediately encouraging cassian to deepen the kiss, making you lean back a little.

taking advantage of this new change, cassian took the opportunity to wrap his hands around the back of your thighs, propelling you upwards, making you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

the male carried you to cabin, and then to the bedroom, whose door was opened with a kick without ever breaking the kiss.

cassian supported his knees on the mattress, lowering your bodies until your back rested gently on the surface of the bed.

his hands traveled your body, while your hands slid down the width of his back, feeling every muscle he had there under your palms.

your hands continued their path until they reached the hem of his shirt. when you showed your intention to lift it, your action was interrupted by cassian.

"wait." he asked, leaning on his knees and holding your small wrists in his too-large hands.

"is there a problem?"

your legs continued to rest on either side of cassian's legs, you showed no intention of moving.

"you're human."

your eyes dropped to the skirt of your dress, a pang of shame reaching your heart. you couldn't help but think that maybe he didn't want to do this because you would never be able to satisfy him like the females in his world.

after all, you are just a simple human while they look like goddesses compared to you.

"no, it's not that."

your eyes immediately flew to meet those brown ones. cassian approached and ran a hand over your face.

"trust me, it's not that. i've never wanted anyone like i want you, but. . . "

your hand rested on his, which was on your cheek, heating up with each movement of the male.

"i'm afraid i might hurt you. i'm much stronger than you and i don't want to hur-"

"you could never hurt me." you were quick to interrupt him and the feeling of relief that filled you was welcome.

he wants you, but he's just afraid of hurting you.

your heart skipped a beat at his kindness.

"i know you'd never hurt me, cass. it's okay, i want this." this time, you were the one caressing his face, "i trust you."

oh, if you only knew how much those three words had an effect on him.

never in his four hundred years had cassian ever felt this way about anyone.

someone who made him feel alive.

someone who gave him a purpose.

nodding, cassian was quick to kiss you again, and when you tried to take off his shirt again, he didn't stop you.

standing up, he undid his pants, button by button. you watched as his pants slid down his muscular thighs.

now in just his boxers, you took in the incredible sight of the warrior he was — his muscles, his tattoos, and those strands of hair tied in a bun while the rest remained loose.

an absolute god.

what an impossible mission it was to meet this male and not fall madly in love with him.

cassian broke the last step when his boxers joined the pile of his clothes on the floor.

you couldn't stop your gaze from lingering on his length for longer than it should have.

a chuckle from cassian broke your trance and you tried to hide your blushing cheeks as you stood up and stood in front of him with your back turned.

you felt the male's breathing get heavier as you gently slid your hair over one shoulder, giving him a view of the zipper of your dress.

cassian's hands were shaking slightly as the general began to slide the clasp all the way down, being greeted by your bare back.

a kiss was placed at the beginning of your spine, sending shivers down it, while two large hands slid the dress off your shoulders until it fell to the floor.

when you found cassian's face again, you watched as his eyes traveled over your body, memorizing every detail.

with your eyes still on his, you lay back down on the mattress. cassian followed you, resting his forearms on the sides of your head.

his fingers traveled through your hair while his lips were busy kissing you.

the kiss took another turn when the kisses strayed to your cheek, followed by your neck and down your chest until they reached your belly and stopped just below your belly button.

cassian lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question.

"yes."

he placed one last kiss on your belly before his hands grabbed the fabric of your underwear and slid them down your legs.

several light kisses were placed on the inside of your thighs as the male made another round of kisses until he reached your lips.

when his hips aligned with yours, you felt a pressure at your entrance that caused a new sensation in your belly.

cassian grabbed one of your arms, lifting and bending it over your head before intertwining your fingers with his and holding it there.

his other hand slid down your thigh until he lifted it and held it higher on his hip.

"are you sure?"

a nod wasn't enough for the male who preferred words for what was about to happen.

"words, baby."

your heart skipped another beat. could this male be more perfect?

with a look of love written all over your face, you said "make me yours."

cassian fell apart at your words and as quick as a snap of his fingers, his heart surrendered to you completely.

lifting his hips slightly, cassian pushed inside and a strange sensation invaded you.

he made sure his movement was slow and gentle so as not to hurt you, until he was completely inside.

your heart was racing as was your breathing, as you tried to get used to this new sensation that could be described as strange, a little painful but at the same time pleasant.

cassian stood still for a few seconds, using his free hand to caress your hair "relax, baby."

following his advice, your muscles relaxed and the tension disappeared from your body, leaving only pleasure.

giving the male an indication to continue, cassian moved slowly and gently with each encounter of your hips.

as you got used to it, his thrusts became deeper and more precise.

your moans mixed with cassian's grunts, your bodies moving in harmony.

your body exploded and you found yourself sailing in a sea of pleasures where each sensation left you feeling incredible.

just when you thought it couldn't get any better, cassian wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing you closer, and held both of your hands above your head as he took a few minutes to explore your chest.

sucking and biting, you were left with love marks all over your skin.

this is where you wanted to be. in this bed, in the arms of this male.

you wanted to display all these marks of love so that everyone could know that the two of you belonged together.

you remained wrapped in each other until the next morning sun came to greet you.

•••

the day you and cassian had to say goodbye is not one he wants to remember.

it was months later, during one of the parties organized by the high lord in the hewn city.

after a night full of laughter, dancing and food, an attempt on rhys's life occurred. the inner circle was quick to act but not before one of the attackers hurt you.

madja was able to heal some of your injuries but due to your human nature, the others would take longer to heal.

guilt consumed cassian, reminding him how fragile you were compared to them.

cassian could not be selfish with you and make you stay in his world just so he could be with you.

he held you in his arms, kissing you and telling how much his heart beats for you.

the next morning, you woke up in your village with the a ghost feeling of strong arms around you as last memory.

•••

my love, i'm getting married. i understand that this may come as a big surprise but this time is different. i'm ready for a life beyond my parents' reach. his name is liam, we have known each other since we were children when he lived across the house from me. i met him again when i was returning from church, i learned that he recently lost his wife to a virus in a village in the north. he returned to his parents' house after his wife's funeral to start over. we have kept in touch ever since and life has led us to take the next step. we are not in love, not even close, but we are friends, we enjoy each other's company and we both want the same thing and guess what? liam loved my idea of being a teacher and opening a small school. he is a good man, he treats me very well and supports my dreams, i think everything will be fine. i bought my wedding dress the other day and i couldn't help but think about the beautiful dresses i would find in velaris and how pretty you would look in a suit at the altar. oh, cass, how i wish it was you. how i wish it was you to whom i would say those two little words. i still have some preparations to make until the wedding day, next friday. and i already know that if he ever goes off the rails, all i have to do is describe to him an illyrian general who would be happy to settle scores with him. i miss you, cass. my heart beats for you. forever yours, y/n

cassian was nervous.

he knew he shouldn't be here, but he couldn't stop himself from coming.

a part of him believed that you wanted him here, that the mention of your wedding day had been intentional so he could come.

at least, that's what he tried to convince his brothers when rhysand and azriel tried to stop him.

the sun had set long ago, but the party continued.

cassian watched the light emitted by the windows of the small church and the music that was playing inside.

several voices laughing and singing could be heard through the thin wood.

cassian paced back and forth, wondering what he should do.

the male walked a few steps towards the church only to walk back and find his brothers coming out of the trees.

a sigh of annoyance left the general's mouth, who received looks of understanding from his brothers.

"you can't be here, cass," rhysand told him for what seemed like the hundredth time since that letter had reached his brother's hands.

"what am i supposed to do, rhys?" pain showed in cassian's brown eyes, causing a pang of pain in his brothers hearts.

"my girl is in there getting married to a guy who isn't me."

azriel approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder and lightly squeezing him. "we know, but it's dangerous for you to be here, brother. what if someone sees you?"

"i'm not afraid of them, az." cassian gave him an incredulous look, as if the male didn't know what he was made of.

"i'm not talking about you," cassian's confusion was enough for him to continue. "y/n is in there. if someone sees you and tries to hurt you, she'll step in and stop it from happening. and then what? what do you think they'd do to her if they found out you were the person she was with while she was away?"

cassian's stomach turned at the mere thought of someone being capable of hurting you.

you who radiate kindness and gentleness.

"he's right, cass. not all humans are understanding, many of them would never accept the fact that y/n chose you over one of them." rhysand added.

cassian hung his head in defeat and with a simple nod, conveyed his understanding to his brothers.

just as they turned their backs on the church and prepared to leave, a honey-sweet voice stopped them.

"cass?"

a wave of electricity invaded the male's body and a sense of relief filled him.

he would recognize that voice anywhere. even if he was at the ends of the world, he would recognize you.

cassian's knees nearly gave out when he turned around and found the most beautiful bride he had ever seen.

you were on the church porch. your hair was tied up in a bun with a bridal pin on top holding a transparent, shiny veil.

you displayed a white shiny dress that started with a sweetheart neckline whose fabric hugged your form until your hips and then cascaded down to your feet.

you were mesmerizing with the starlight completing you.

cassian forgot how to breathe.

if his time came at that precise moment, he would die happy.

"cass!" your eyes lit up as your feet carried you to him.

cassian ran to you and when you threw yourself into his arms, he held you as if his life depended on it.

he inhaled your scent, memorized the softness of your skin and recorded the sound of your laughter.

cassian would stay in this position forever, with you in his arms, safe, happy and loved.

but that was interrupted when you ended the hug and pulled away just long enough to firmly grab his face and kiss him directly on his lips.

cassian kissed you back immediately. a kiss that told him so much even without words spoken in between.

how much you missed him, how much you loved him and how much to desire to be with him.

when the kiss ended, your foreheads remained together with your hands still on each other's cheeks, as you tried to calm your hearts and catch your breath.

a light laugh from you broke the silence "i missed you."

"i missed you too, baby."

"we missed you too, y/n" rhys's voice reached your ears, making you turn in the arms of your male and look in the direction of his brothers.

azriel and rhysand raised their hands together in greeting, goofy smiles on their faces.

"i missed you too, boys," your eyes redirected to those brown who invaded your dreams "but not as much as your pretty brother here."

cassian blushed, looking away from you and hiding his face in your neck, leaving his brothers giggling and mocking him.

the small moment of tenderness didn't last long when a pair of footsteps reached the ears of the illyrians, making them go into defense mode.

cassian quickly placed you behind him while rhysand and azriel joined his sides with weapons ready.

not far away, a sharp scream broke through the garden and a small 'pum' echoed beneath your feet.

before anything tragic could happen, you stepped in front of the males, trying to contain your laughter.

"it's okay! it's liam!"

liam — the human on the ground — was in a fetal position, with his head hidden in his knees and his arms wrapped around them.

"please, don't hurt me." he begged.

"liam," you tried to stifle your laughter but failed as you helped him up, "they're not going to hurt you, you idiot."

"oh," liam let out a small nervous laugh as he adjusted his coat and pants. "well, that's good. thank you."

the males put away their weapons as they observed what was your new husband.

the smile that adorned your face at the scene that had just taken place did not go unnoticed by them.

as you linked your arm with liam's, you approached the males and made the proper introductions.

"liam, this is rhysand and azriel." you paused briefly as the three shook hands.

a look of love took over your face "and this is cassian," a brief pause, enough for your eyes to regain that shine that was meant only for him "my cassian."

the male's heart skipped a beat and began beating so fast that he only realized it when his brothers' giggles started again.

clearing his throat and composing himself, cassian ignored the two idiots on the left and looked at liam.

he didn't know what to expect from the man's reaction but it was definitely not what displayed next.

"it's very nice to meet you, sir. i heard great things about you."

"you did?" cassian asked suprised.

you were the one to answer this time "i told liam about us. he's not like the others."

liam shook hands with cassian, before stepping back and exclaiming "i'll give you two a moment alone," looking at you he continued "i'll be inside when you're ready."

gratitude and joy filled your eyes bringing tears to the surface "thank you, liam."

"of course." liam replied as he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

already heading towards the church, liam was stopped in his tracks, with a voice he knew belonged to a general without even looking back.

"yes?" he asked as he found cassian's face again.

cassian looked at you — at your eyes that shone every time you looked at him and as he ran a hand over your face, he placed his hand on the back of your neck bringing you into a hug.

as soon as your face touched his chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist, one of his hands remained on your neck while the other found your waist.

your body immediately relaxed against his and cassian had to look away from you as tears invaded his eyes.

he had to clear his throat before proceeding "take care of my girl."

liam gave him a genuine smile that showed cassian he could trust him. "i will. you have my word."

with a nod from the male, liam continued on his way until he entered the church.

a simple look at his brothers told them what cassian wanted.

a moment alone with you — the last one.

azriel and rhysand placed a kiss on the top of your head in turn before leaving.

there in the middle of a garden, in the moonlight, you and cassian danced.

"my heart beats for you." you said it one last time.

"my heart beats for you, baby."

you danced together for a long time.

the dance that was supposed to be witnessed by the whole world on your wedding day.

but instead, only the stars got to witnessed it.

•••

dear cassian, today marks two months since i started teaching. the renovations were finished a few weeks after the wedding and the school is finally up and running. the first few days were difficult, many girls didn't show up because some parents still believed that education is only for boys but i think the gods are on my side. by the fourth week there were so many girls and boys that there wasn't room for one more person. many of the children had to sit on the tables and windowsills, can you believe it? the children are contagious and have such a curiosity to learn that it fills my heart with joy. liam and i have been married for six months. we found a nice house near the lake and everything is going well. we are planning a trip to the mainland at the end of the year. it will be our honeymoon since we didn't have the chance after the wedding. i hope you are all well. with love, y/n

on top of a tree planted in a garden in front of a small school, a large illyrian general struggled with his weight to stay stable in the branches.

on the general's face was one of the biggest smiles he had ever shown.

his eyes were fixed on the scene that was unfolding a few feet away from him on the ground.

in the middle of the garden, in front of a small school, there was you. — his girl.

cassian watched as you stood in the middle of a circle, singing and clapping, while the children danced around you with smiles on their faces — faces full of a happiness caused by you.

the scene brought tears to his eyes.

you were happy.

your dream had come true.

and it was at that precise moment that he knew he had made the right decision in letting you go.

•••

dear cassian, i've been very busy with school and the children. it's been rewarding to be able to be a part of these little beings who grow more and more with each passing day. liam is doing well, we celebrated his birthday a few weeks ago. we're both very happy and our relationship gets better every day. this is a very special time for us, especially now that we've discovered that our family of two will soon become a family of three. who would have thought, me as a mom, can you imagine? my little bump is already noticeable and the baby kicked for the first time the other day. i already love this baby so much. i'm happy. with love, y/n

"where have you been?"

rhysand's voice attacked cassian's mind with a tone too loud.

cassian was sitting on the couch with several empty bottles of alcohol at his feet and tears streaming down his face.

rhys didn't need an answer from his brother to realize where he had gone.

"you went to see her."

more tears ran down cassian's face, and the male took another sip before speaking.

"they were building the crib."

rhysand let out a sigh and approached the male, taking the bottle from him and grabbing his shoulder. "you can't keep doing this to yourself, cassian. you have to let her go."

"i can't," cassian began to sob, "i don't want to."

without any way of predicting it, rhys rocked back as cassian hugged him.

the high lord's heart broke for his brother — his love for you was unquestionable.

"she looked so beautiful, rhys," the sobs grew louder, "she was wearing the purple dress with white flowers and . . . and her little bump was showing."

rhys hugged his brother tightly, showing him that he was there for him.

"i want her back. i want my girl back."

cassian fell asleep crying.

•••

dear cassian, my babygirl is here. on a summer night, cassie marie came into this world screaming and kicking. she is absolutely perfect. liam and i decided to name her after the loves we lost, i hope you like it. cassie has my hair and liam's nose but somehow she has your eyes and according to liam, marie's freckles. if this isn't a gift from the gods, then i don't know what is. cassie is now four months old, she's always smiling and communicating in her sweet way. you should see her, cassian, she's so beautiful. sometimes i let myself wonder what it would be like if she had little bat wings and black hair. even after all this, my heart still beats for you. with love, y/n

on the porch of a house by the lake, sitting in a rocking chair, a mother sang to her newborn daughter.

the beautiful girl listened attentively to her mother's voice, who looked at her with all the love in the world reflected in her blue eyes.

the baby smiled from time to time, babbling here and there, trying to join her mother.

cassian watched from the shadows.

the scene unfolding before his eyes brought him peace — a peace mixed with a certain kind of pain.

unable to help himself, he also imagined what it would be like if that little girl had small bat wings and black hair.

he imagined what it would be like to be able to hold those two precious things in his arms and be able to call them his own.

cassian couldn't hold back the tears.

that was the last time he ever saw you.

•••

dear cassian, it's been so long since my last letter. a lot has changed since then. liam and i have now been married for eight years, cassie is six, wren is three and lucy just turned one. liam and i moved to a bigger house about two years ago. our children are our greatest blessings, cassie loves to paint and read, wren has developed a new obsession with bugs and rocks, and lucy loves it when i sing to her. i wish i could slow down time so they wouldn't grow up so fast. my father passed away last year after catching a bad case of the flu, but don't worry, i'm better now. i'm glad father got to meet lucy before he left us. my birthday is coming up and I'll be thirty-two soon. it feels like a lifetime ago since i met you. every time i see cassie's eyes, i see you and my heart fills with love and good memories. my heart still beats for you, cass. with love, y/n

•••

dear cassian, how time flies. i can't remember the last letter i wrote you. cassie is twenty now and has a boyfriend who liam isn't very happy with. she wants to be a teacher like me and one day when she's ready, she'll take my place at school. wren is almost eighteen and has decided he wants to be a doctor like his dad. he's been helping liam at the clinic lately. the first few days were hard, he threw up a few times but he's getting the hang of it. lucy loves nature. flowers, animals, trees, anything that involves it. she doesn't know what she wants to be yet but she's still young and has a lot of time until then. everything is going well. with love, y/n

•••

dear cassian, i'm a grandmother. last week, my cassie gave birth to a beautiful boy. the boyfriend that liam didn't like ended up proving himself to us and three years later, he and my little girl tied the knot. my grandson is beautiful, just like his mother. cassie has already taken my place at school and can't stop talking about how excited she is to go back. in a few months, it will be my son's turn to marry with girl who used to be my student. they make a beautiful couple. lucy ended up opening a bookstore and she's so happy. liam and i retired about a year ago and with all our babies out of the house and their lives organized, our house has become emptier and quieter. i'm not a big fan of this, but it's been useful because we have been taking advantage of this time to travel more, like we always wanted to. life has been good to me. with love, y/n

•••

my love, i turned eighty-three today. my family threw me a big surprise party surrounded by family and friends, it was one of the best i've ever had. i already have five grandchildren, did you know? my lucy had her first a few months ago. lately, i've been thinking a lot about the life i've built, about everything i've experienced. time is starting to pass by me, cass, i can feel it in my bones. it hurts me to say that i don't remember you anymore. no matter how hard i try, i can't remember your face or your voice but do you know what i can still remember? that my heart beats for you just as it always has. live well, cass. be happy and when your time comes, look for me in the next life. my heart will forever belong to you. forever yours, your girl, y/n

•••

the letter arrived on a gray morning.

the sun was hidden behind the clouds as if it was too afraid to come say 'hi'.

it was a strange morning, cassian thought.

despite the fact that it was already the last days of summer, pryhtian was still a few weeks away from welcoming the next season.

the inner circle was in the living room having breakfast at the house of wind.

nuala entered the room with a letter sealed that was resting on a white porcelain platter.

a huge smile immediately spread across the general's face.

after all, it was the first thursday of the month and everyone knew what that meant — a letter from you.

cassian didn't wait for nuala to cross the room to him. standing up as quickly as possible, wiping his hands on the pants fabric, cassian walked over to her.

he thanked the half-wraith, still with his mouth full, as he hurried to take the letter out and open it.

a few steps away, sitting at the oak table, his family studied with amusement in their eyes and genuine smiles.

cassian wasn't the only one who looked forward to your letters and the words contained in them — the first thursday of the month was always a day of great excitement for everyone, even for your old chess partner.

but, unfortunately, this wasn't a normal thursday.

the members of the inner circle were quick to notice this when cassian's behavior changed.

how he remained with his back turned, instead of turning around ready to share the letter with them;

how his knees began to weaken, instead of running back to the table smiling;

how his breathing became rapid and strangled, instead of letting out several laughs;

how from one moment to the next, everything changed.

cassian fell to his knees.

a second — that was all it took for his heart to stop.

a strangled sound of pain woke azriel and rhysand from their trances and they ran to their brother's aid.

morrigan and amren followed them, staying just a few steps away from where the three brothers were now on the ground.

four strong arms wrapped around cassian's body, whose chest shook with pain as his tears fell onto the abandoned letter on the floor, blurring the various words written on it.

through their brother's tears, the two males could only make out one sentence that remained untouched.

their hearts were immediately struck, as if someone had ambushed them and stolen a part of them.

tears that matched cassian's gathered in his family's eyes.

grief invaded them in the worst possible way.

you had died in your sleep.

the sun did not shine that day.

•••

she was lost for words.

she would never have imagined the depth of your love story with cassian.

now it all made sense.

the fact that he was scared by the revelation of the bond — the fact that he was insecure and afraid to accept it.

"i need you to understand that a part of my heart will always belong to her."

cassian began by saying, his eyes never meeting nesta's.

"after y/n, i never went back to being with another woma-" clearing his throat, he adjusted his position on the bed "with another female."

"for decades i couldn't even look at another female with that intention. y/n completely disarmed me."

a hoarse laugh escaped his lips "she turned my world upside down. she changed me for the better and showed me a life i never thought i was worthy of. so i need you to understand this before you make a decision about the bond."

his eyes met nesta's face for the first time.

"no matter how many years, decades, centuries pass, i will never, ever stop loving her. she was the one who made my heart beat for the first time, and even after one hundred and seventy-two years since she left this world. . .my heart continues to beat for her and it always will."

for the second time that day, nesta was lost for words.

she couldn't comprehend that kind of love — a love so deep, so true, so powerful.

she hoped that one day she could be blessed and experience it.

even though she knew that cassian would never love her like he loved you — to her surprise, that didn't bother her.

"i understand," a soft smile appeared on her lips and nesta felt relieved when cassian mimicked her, "you really loved her, huh?"

the male nodded several times before confessing out loud "more than life itself."

a moment of silence followed before cassian got up from the bed and walked towards his dresser.

underneath a set of clothes, the male took out a parchment.

on his way to nesta, he held it against his chest as if he was assimilating everything that was happening before stopping in front of her.

"she left you a letter." cassian surprised her and handed her a parchment before retreating to the balcony.

nesta stared at the parchment in her hands for a while, trying to figure out the meaning behind those words.

clarity dawned on her — not for her, but for cassian's future wife.

your consideration warmed her heart. rhysand was right — you really did have a gift for stealing people's hearts.

nesta broke the seal and a sweet smell invaded her space.

honey — your scent, nesta realized. she unrolled the letter and read it.

hello, future lady general, my name is y/n and if you are reading this letter, then i assume that cass has already told you about me. i can see that we are both lucky to have such a male in our lives. i don't know how much about our story cass has already told you but by now you must be aware that i am human. or that i was, depending when you're reading this. even though my heart beats for him, we're not meant to be, so i'm writing this letter to tell you a little bit about this amazing male that rocked my world. he's kind, honest, loyal, loving, funny, and so pretty. even though he thinks 'pretty' is a cheesy word, believe me, he likes it when people call him that. he loves flying at night, especially on summer nights. he's a big fan of music. he loves to eat, but he hates eating alone. it reminds him of his childhood in windhaven, so even if you're not eating, sit with him. he had a rough childhood and sometimes he lets those memories get to him, so on those days don't talk to him, just hug him and show him that you're there for him. he has allergies, a lot of them, so in the spring, make him a green herbal tea, it always works. he loves having his hair brushed and braided (he'll never admit it), especially at night before going to bed, that way he won't wake up with knots in his hair. and he loves kisses. in his cheek, in his nose, in his forehead, in his lips, so whenever you get a chance kiss him. it may be a little difficult at first, he has some difficulty in opening up but don't give up on him, he's worth it. please take care of my cass, he can be a little grumpy sometimes, but he's an incredible male who deserves the stars and so much more. make him laugh, make him smile, make him cry, make him scream, make him feel, make him live. make him my cassian again, and not the cassian he will became when my time in this world comes to an end. love him, appreciate him, enjoy him, protect him, accept him. make him yours. i hope your heart beats for him, just like mine still does. thank you, y/n

tears filled nesta archeron's eyes.

the female needed to take a few deep breaths for her heart to recover from what she had just read.

this letter was the only thing she needed to realize how much you had loved cassian and how easy it had been for him to fall in love with you.

who wouldn't? you seemed perfect.

she found cassian on the balcony with his arms resting on the wall and his head down.

the older archeron sister didn't even want to imagine the pain that her mate had felt throughout these years for his late love.

in that moment, nesta knew that she could never replace you, and not even she wanted that, but she wanted to do exactly what you had left in the letter for her.

to do what, unfortunately, you were only able to do for a short period of time and somehow be able to bring comfort to your soul knowing that your cassian was in good hands.

her gray eyes drifted to the letters that remained on the bed.

her eyes traveled through them but the only thing she could focus on was those pages.

the pages that were proof of cassian's grieve.

the pages that were marked by tears.

a/n: thank you for reading! i fell in love with this story even if it hurt to write some of it.

masterlist

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*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[yearnerspermit]

The thing I keep coming back to about the finale is how much the writers get it

Anne Rice wrote the book because of the loss of her daughter. It grew and developed a world and life of its own in the years and decades after that, but at its core, Interview With the Vampire was born from a death. And doesn’t that just make so much sense? For vampires, where birth and death are inextricably linked?

And again, even here in adaptation, no matter how much else is changed:

Louis tells the story. He’s the perspective. It’s filtered through him, remembered imperfectly by him, shaped by him. And Louis is shaped by Lestat, there’s no denying it

But at the end of the day, the story is about Claudia. Lestat only matters here because he became her maker, Louis only matters as far as being the one who initiates that change, and the one who recounts it all

Because what story is there to even be told, without her? Without her life, and her anger? The unfairness of her existence and the unfairness of her destruction? The tragedy that at every step she could have been helped, this could have been avoided, but the only way to avoid it entirely would have been her never entering the narrative?

That truly the only way you could ever avoid the death of the one you love is if you never had them to begin with. And would that be better? For them? For you? It feels like logically the answer is yes. But emotionally? Even considering erasing someone you love from your life feels worse than being the one to kill them. I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia

Every important beat after her introduction — the good, the bad, the ugly — is motivated by messy, imperfect love for her. The story only exists for the love of Claudia, it’s only told for the love of Claudia. The story is Claudia

The tragedy is that they can’t forget her. The tragedy is they can never remember her as she was. Memory is a monster because it’s an incomplete, blurry copy of the people we love who are gone, and it can never be killed, even if you wanted to. But we never really want to, do we? So you cling to that monster, keep it, make it part of you

And at the end? Louis and Lestat, meeting again?

It’s perfect. It’s them, broken. It’s them, on the threshold of learning how not to be. It’s not about romance, its not about betrayal. It’s not about them

It’s two parent, grieving a child. It’s two parents, looking at each other, knowing how badly they failed that child, and knowing how much they loved her still. It’s two parents, embracing and crying and grieving a loss that only they will every truly understand

Because the story is about Claudia. And even when she’s gone? The story is about learning to exist without her. Her absence is still a presence, though. The space she filled, the space it left behind, matters. Because it will never go away, and it will shape them and what happens next, forever

Whatever madness and plot and love and hate spirals out from here, it started from the love of a child, and the loss of a child. And whatever happens next, that will never go away

The story will always be about Claudia

[cheriecoke]

it's been decades since you've last seen dazai; your lover & your maker. now that you're finally happy, he's haunting you again with a thousand buried memories.

overall contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, exes to lover, gothic romance, blood drinking, vampire!reader, vampire!dazai, smut, cheating reader, complicated relationships, blood, gore, jealousy, manipulation, religious symbolism, betrayal, reunions — 5.3k words

PART V ♰ MASTERLIST

Human blood, when it came straight from the source, a punctured vein made up of a scarlet river, held a divine power. There was a warmth that you could only receive from drinking it, not from the animals you captured in the woods, or those that you bled dry into a goblet. 

Only then, would your icy skin be transformed into something akin to heated marble, so smooth, made up of something that had outlasted any other creature roaming the earth. 

That sort of euphoria was a feeling that fifty years had served you well in forgetting. You’d learned not to miss it. 

Until you got it back. The taste of human blood, once it had stained your lips after decades, had become the only thing on your mind. 

For two days, the blood of the woman, whom Dazai had lured to his hotel room for you, kept your hunger down. Your body had grown warm once more, skin as normal as any mortal’s. It made you feel as if you had regained life itself, the ecstasy seeping back into you like the sunbeams you’d never reach again. 

You’d pranced around your home joyfully, dancing through the halls the night before. Although it was dangerous, it was freeing, to lose yourself to the bloodlust like that. Just a taste of what your life had been, was enough to twist your mind, have you reminiscing on the vampire you’d once been. 

“You seem different,” Atsushi had said, the previous day. There had been such pleasure in his irises and the lines creasing his face, at seeing you so cheerful. Those signs of happiness in him were ones that you’d vowed never to take away, for doing so would deem you the vilest creature of them all. “Has something happened that I’m not aware of?” 

You’d laughed, let him rest in the crook of your elbow as you leaned him over your forearm, dipping him gracefully with your otherworldly strength. “I’m just glad you’re home, Atsushi,” you’d said, before twirling him around, guiding him in a dance around the room. 

It was all you could say, really. You couldn’t admit that your true gaiety came from the blood of a young woman, and your health had been restored by drinking the sweet nectar from her heart. 

Something you should’ve been doing all along. 

Then, when those two days passed, and the desperation that came with hunger returned, your mood soured. Atsushi pretended he hadn’t noticed, skirting around you with sideways glances and softened smiles. Encouragement — even if he wasn’t sure what had turned your radiance into a shade of blue. 

Life settled back into a sense of normalcy. For your fiancee, at least, who had never had a clue that anything was amiss. You, on the other hand, grappled with the immense guilt, the truth of what you’d done slamming against you, every moment your thoughts strayed. 

Dazai. 

Dazai. 

Dazai. 

The only name on your mind. Ever. Dreadfully lurking at the lines of your subconscious, even as you smiled at the one who loved you purely. Dazai’s charming grin snuck behind your eyelids as you kissed the man you were to be wed to, his name souring your tongue when you tasted Atsushi’s own. 

His voice, a melody bestowed upon you by nothing else but the devil, for a merciful god could never have created something so tempting, so horribly unholy. Those dark eyes, darker still when you punctured his throat, letting the crimson liquid flow into your mouth, staining your lips. 

And his blood… 

You growled, digging your nails into the piano that you’d failed to play at all. A screeching sound erupted as your fingers slid down the cover, deep scratches marring the wood. 

This was all his fault. If he’d never come back, then things could’ve carried on as they always had. You wouldn’t crave the taste of human blood once again, of Dazai’s blood, of his mouth, of him. 

“Get out,” you shouted, throwing the piano bench away from the instrument, the wood splintering under your strength. “Get out.” The antique vase shattered against the wall, the priceless item suddenly a million, tiny pieces. “Get out of my head.” 

Frustrated crept its way up your chest, a less than welcome old friend. 

Yet, that blend of rage and anguish was not an antidote to the way that Dazai Osamu had poisoned your mind, and you fell to your knees, sobbing hot streaks of blood into your hands. 

He’d made a cheater out of you, once again. A cheater, a killer, and a monster. And even after all that, you yearned for him. Your chest ached for the trace of his fingertips along your jawline, for those eyes to soften, only upon you. For the smile that he’d always given you, even in your darkest moments, as you laid upon him, coated in the gore of another.

Dazai was a cruel man, but he’d loved you through it all. 

And if what he said was true, he’d never meant to leave you. 

You swallowed, willing your tears away as you stared at the ceiling, dragging those regrettable emotions deep, burying them under the years of turmoil he’d put you through. All the times he’d snuck away, never telling you where he’d gone, promising he’d change and still playing the same games. 

Even then, the taste of his blood was too fresh on your mind, the tenderness of his hands still burned into your skin. 

Dazai, for all his cruelty, was right. Atsushi would never understand you the way he did. He’d never love you like that either. 

It had been a blessing, at first, that Atsushi was so vastly different from your immortal companion. Now, it had become the thorn lodged deep in your side, puncturing you through the middle. 

When the day came that you turned Atsushi, with a ring upon your finger and the promise of an immortal life, would you still long for Dazai? 

It seemed unfair to judge your vampire lover now, for all his misgivings, all the evil deeds he had committed, all the adultery, all the silence. The murder. You were the same, you and Dazai. Burned straight from the same pit, crafted by the hands of a demon, placed upon this earth for no reason but evil. 

How foolish you had been, to ever think you could be anything good. 

Three days later, when the rats were not enough, and the threat of biting Atsushi became too much to resist, you sought Dazai out. 

The realization of your buried feelings, towards him and yourself, would remain just that—hidden. You’d told Dazai you needed time, and you still did. Time to decide if you’d rather live with Atsushi, or step out into the sunlight, letting your body fall into flames before ashes. Both seemed more pleasurable than admitting that your once lover had seen straight through you. 

Truly anything was better than admitting that what you felt for Dazai was something, still, close to love. 

You’d spent the evening steeling yourself, staring awake in the darkened room as you rehearsed what you’d say to Dazai, after the last conversation you’d had. It had begun to occur to you, perhaps, that your problematic dalliance could be traced back to the mixed signals that you continued to send his way.

Yet, when you finally mustered up the courage to visit him, Dazai was not at the hotel. The room service had already cleared out the lodgings, stripped the room bare and sterilized it after his departure. 

Dazai was gone. He’d left just like you’d wanted him to, for weeks. 

So, why did your heart drop like a weight from your chest to your stomach, the agonizing twist of abandonment tearing through your immortal soul?

Briefly, you stared at the empty room, blinking at the laundress who spread fresh linens across the mattress. She seemed to be startled by the fury and misery in your darkened irises, lips parting with words she wouldn’t speak. 

“The man,” you said, hating the sound of your choked voice, raspy as it made its way out of your chalky throat. “The man that was staying in this room. He left?” 

She stared at you for a moment longer, before nodding slowly. “He did.” 

“Do you know when?” 

When? Where? Why did you let him leave? How could he just walk away without even so much as a goodbye?

The woman shook her head once more, smoothing a wrinkle across the sheets before stepping away from the four-poster bed. The same one that you had tumbled onto with Dazai, twice in the past few days, your icy hands roaming across each other’s bodies.

“That is not my business,” she offered, as kindly as she could, frightened by the sharp coils of your features, as nasty as the glare that shone in your burning eyes. “I apologize that I cannot be of more help, miss.” 

You considered carrying on, objecting, perhaps tearing apart the room in a fit of anger. It could be upended by your monstrous speed before the skittish laundress even had time to protest. 

For less than a moment, you bared your fangs, the sheer white of your teeth glinting in the moonlight. A flash of fear sheared its way through the woman’s eyes, as she caught the menacing curl of your lip, before you recovered smoothly. Quickly enough for her to believe that it had been a trick of the light, a play of her imagination.

“No. I apologize,” you said, dropping your hands to your sides, ignoring the dissonance of your humanity and your eternal curse. So quickly, with the burst of anger thrumming under your skin, you’d resorted to thoughts of violence. Ugly ideas swarmed your mind, a vision of blood, beautifully ruby red, splattering across the creamy linens. 

Perhaps it was best that Dazai left. Hopefully, it was permanent.

Without another word, you left the laundress to her work, heading back to the front desk to see if you could weasel any answers out of the manager. He had been quite adamant in keeping it private, the whereabouts of guests, both past and present, under lock and key.

“I am merely curious when he left,” you said, growing frustrated after a minute of pursuing answers. Your sharp nails, stronger than that of a normal human’s, dug into the counter, small crescents indented in the dark wood. “Can you not supply me with that simple fact?” 

The man pushed his glasses up, shook his head once, before you huffed, nearly hissing under your breath. You would resolve to more drastic measures, if you needed to. 

“Tell me when he left.” You laid your sharp gaze into him, digging past the soil of his golden brown irises, until you had reached his mind, curling your own influence around it. “Dazai Osamu, he was staying in room 29.” 

The man straightened, looked at you with parted lips, like you were the only person, the only being, in the entire world. So captivated he was, both by your beauty and your confidence, the smile on your lips softened, yet not without its cruelty. But the touch you’d laid on his mind was one of comfort, a warm caress. A feeling of laying on your chest, your fingers curling through the few, thin strands left on his balding head. 

“Earlier this week,” he replied, nodding, recollecting the evening. “Yes, I remember him. Quite an outlandish fellow—very self assured. He’d checked out earlier than expected, but seemed in no hurry.” The fog lifted from the man’s irises for just a moment, as confusion hammered against you, and you lost your focus. “I’m sorry, I don’t—���

You were quite out of practice, and dug deeper, controlling his consciousness. “Did he say where he was going? Or anything at all?” 

He shrugged, eyebrows knitting together in pain as your gentle touch laid way to a cold slap against his mortal intuition. “I can only assume he would be going home.” 

You scowled, face marring into an ugly expression, as your hands shook against the countertop. Then, you turned, scoffing, and released the man from your grasp. “Fine. Forget we had this conversation.” 

The clerk said nothing to you as you stalked away, leaving a trail burned into the carpet from your steps. You were nothing more than a stranger. 

Outside, you seemed to come to your senses, the moon, your oldest friend, your eternal companion, greeting you with a kiss. You stared up at it with distant longing, wishing, perhaps, that that silvery light could shroud you, wrap you up and take you away, just as the sunlight could. 

Three steps around the corner, out of the sight of any lingering travelers, you dropped to the ground, leaning against the brick exterior of the old hotel. It was a building on the brim of decay, the colors so much different than when it’d opened, wood paneling rotting away. 

Rotting just like anyone that had ever loved you had done. 

The hotel had been born after your family, after the friends you’d had when you were human, but the state of it was more grisly than any you’d ever been in. It would age, die, collapse into the earth, and you would walk in the rubble, still as divine as you were now. 

The realization of that alone had you doubling over, laughing into your hands, a sharp, terrible sound that echoed into the emptiness of night. 

So hard, you laughed, that it threatened to tumble into tears, ones that you kept at bay, even as you stared at the decaying hotel and the stars in the night that you’d probably outlive too. 

With Dazai gone, you felt closer to the brink of insanity than you ever had, in both your lives as a human and a vampire. It felt that some cord deep within you had snapped, and suddenly, you could not see a reason for your meaningless existence. 

Day in and day out you’d suffered, looking for a reason to continue on the path of moral righteousness, to ignore all the memories that continued to resurface, floating up out of the deep, black abyss. 

You had been unhappy as a human, unsatisfied with your existence, and you had been a loose cannon in your early years as a vampire; a risk to yourself and anything that dared to step in your path. And though you’d once believed yourself to court misery, you had only shared a gentle kiss with it, never taken it to bed and let it shroud you with itself. 

Misery, now, was the only word that could encompass the deep sense of hollowness that had been carved inside of you. Even Atsushi, with his kind eyes and a smile you loved so dearly, had not been able to ease you out of bed. 

Leave me for a few days, Atsushi, you’d told him, not sure if you were being selfish, or quite the opposite. I don’t want to hurt you. 

You didn’t. You didn’t want to hurt him. But there was, and perhaps there would always be, the version of you that longed for the violence. For when had you last been happy, free, without the restraints and the threat of murdering the one you loved most, if not when you were with Dazai?

When the third day passed without a drop of blood, and the hunger had gripped you so tightly that you were on the brink of delirium, you pulled yourself out of bed, and left the apartment. 

It was warmer, humid, the air stifling and pressing down on you as you roamed the streets, looking for something, anything. While the weather had very little effect on the dead, it was your hunger that dizzied you, a sensation that was so close to the suppressive heat felt as a human that you smiled, traipsed around as if you were in a dream.

Atsushi you’d spoken to only in brief increments, your fangs bared in a threat, warning him not to come any closer. And all he’d done was smile, tightly, and grabbed a fresh set of clothes, leaving for the rest of the week to retire elsewhere. 

Despite your treatment of him, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel apologetic. If that was what it took for you to save his life, to keep him from seeing the ugliest parts of you, then so be it. 

Still, it only made you think of Dazai, who had seen all those sides of you. He had seen you, the very worst parts of you. He had seen you as a human, smiling softly at men on the streets as you slipped a hand into their pockets, stealing for the bread you couldn’t afford. He had seen you relish at the sight of fear, as the very same men began to see you as a threat, not a prize that could so easily be won. He had seen you happily drown yourself in murder, and he had loved you anyway. 

For as little as he’d shared about his own life, you’d understood him. It had been the reason he’d given you the gift of immortality, one you could never return.

Thinking of that — thinking of Dazai at all — felt like a betrayal. 

“Excuse me,” you heard a voice say beside you. A tall man approached, at least a foot above you, his eyes roaming across you with a lust you were all too familiar with. For a moment, you considered ignoring him, stepping away without turning to face him at all. 

He persisted, calling out for you again, when you finally gazed back at him with hard suspicion. 

“May I help you?” you replied, eyes narrowed.

He startled, taking a step back at your intensity. “Ah. I’m just passing through, and I’ve lost my way. I was wondering if you would direct me back to Crescent Street. I’m staying at the hotel there,” he said.

“Perhaps I am a traveler as well.” You glanced back at the river, the shimmering water winking at you with the reflection of the stars. “What makes you so certain I am familiar with the area?”

If you threw yourself into the water, tried to drown under the darkened depths, would you? Would the water flow through your lungs, killing you over and over until the sun rose, or would you simply breath it in and out as freshly as air, coughing it up when you emerged? 

Dazai had never told you these kinds of things. You’d never been bored enough to try and find out yourself. 

“Oh,” the man said. “Forgive me. I just assumed, based on how confidently you stroll the night. With all the murders that have been happening, I thought you must have either been comfortable, or just very stupid.” 

You smiled lazily at him, as the annoyance surged up in you, so fast and without warning. “I am certainly not stupid.” 

“Certainly not.” Then, the man, with his blonde locks and eyes the colors of sapphires, stuck a gloved hand out, leaning forward. “My name is Peter,” he said, curling his hand around your own, pointedly ignoring the ring on your finger. There was hunger in his expression, though it was different from your own, as he dipped his gaze towards the red corset that hugged your curves, revealing a hint of cold skin at your chest. 

You bowed your head gracefully, giving your name in response, before looking at him from under your eyelashes. From that action alone, the sultry burn you had spilled into your irises, his demeanor changed, lips falling open from your otherworldly beauty. 

Although your gift of slipping into the minds of humans, compelling their actions and twisting their memory had come in handy many times in the past, you’d never had to use it to lure a man to his dark fate. They came so easily, once they understood your intentions, saw even a hint of desire contrasting the gentle innocence you held onto. 

“I must be quite lucky, then, to have stumbled across you,” he said, leaning into you. You could smell the tobacco that stuck to his clothes, fine cigars that he smoked quite freely. There was a hint of another scent there too, sweeter, more feminine. It soaked deeply into his clothes, lining every thread as if it had been coated there. 

“Are you traveling alone?” you asked suspiciously, stepping away from him, to find a shaded area along the bank. There were enough trees to hide any hints of murder, and any lingering eyes had fled to the other side of the city, the busier side, where the port was. 

The storm in Peter’s oceanic eyes dissipated to serene waters. 

A lie came after, and so easily it slipped off his tongue, without an ounce of guilt, of the torment you had long since succumbed to. 

“Yes,” he confirmed. Even though his eyes said no, and the scent of the woman’s perfume agreed. 

“No wife?” you returned, smiling softly, as you reached the edge of the water, the waves curling up along the muddied rocks. “Kids?” 

He laughed. “I’m afraid I am still a lonely bachelor.” 

“Well,” you said, turning back around to trace his arm gently, your diamond clad finger on full display. “I’m not.” 

Although he said nothing, you could see the anger rise up in him, the frustration at being toyed with — and how quickly it rose. His fingers tightened at his side, jaw clenching, a cruel word launching to the tip of his tongue. 

“But,” you said, quelling your own rage. The threat of a violent man may have been nothing to you, but it would be enough to the other women that happened to be passing the streets. “Perhaps, we can ignore that small detail, for the time being.” 

You slipped the ring off your finger and dropped it onto the ground, letting it fall into the earth, soiled and dirtied by the splashes of water that rose up — where you belonged. Underground, buried without a ring that never should’ve been on your finger in the first place. 

You felt crazed, your spirit slipping from the shell of morality it had resided in, as it remembered what it truly meant to be free. And you were free, weren’t you? Your nature was never meant to succumb to laws set by mortals, for you were older than them, older than the society that claimed to be civilized, but was just as monstrous as your own. 

Peter parted his lips, formulating a response you cared little for, as you shoved him up against the nearest tree, his back hitting it with a grave thump.

Even though you expected his face to morph into one of pain, he stared back at you with intrigue, eyes alight with want. That alone made you sick, with him and yourself, for doing the same thing to your fiance that you would take his life for. 

You turned his jaw, caressing him softly as you exposed the vein, and dipped your head. 

It was unfortunate that it didn’t cause him any pain, an almost erotic feeling to humans when you sunk your teeth in, tongue lapping at the puncture. But you were far too hungry to care, and ignored the warning bells in your head as you drank and drank, until the blood and breath began to fizzle out, and he was but a corpse left in your arms. 

The taste grew rancid, sour in your mouth with death, and you released him, tearing the skin with a gruesome sound as you emerged from the vein. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in his expression, despite being gruesomely torn apart, and you threw him towards the river in disgust. 

“I would apologize to your wife,” you said, smiling, rejuvenated by fresh human blood. Although he had been an easy catch, the hunt was elating, nonetheless. “But she’s better off without you.” 

You leaned down, ripping a handkerchief from his pocket, before dabbing at your mouth, a few droplets of blood staining the tan cloth. 

A sigh escaped you, and you glanced back up at the moon, the stars, the endless universe that you hardly understood at all. If there was a god out there, or the devil as you’d once feared, would they grant this as a sin, or would you be a vengeful angel, cleaning the world of the scum that committed adulterous acts?

You placed the cloth across his neck before slashing your nails across it, tearing at the skin like you were an animal, just enough to cover your tracks. Then, you dumped him into the water, watched him turn over, onto his face, before sinking just under. 

For a moment, you stared, as the once living, breathing thing turned into something pale and ugly, floating along the current as if nothing more than a piece of litter, carelessly tossed aside. The mop of hair across the top of the waves, golden and shiny in the light, was the only evidence that he had ever been alive at all. 

Then, as quickly as his life had left him, he disappeared into the night, beyond your vision. 

You paused, feeling an eerie sense of nothingness creep up on you, as you realized what you had done. It had been so long since you’d held someone’s life in your hand like that, killed without a second thought, that the feelings of deliverance and regret battled so fiercely, they turned into impassivity. 

Licking your lips, you turned around, basking in the warm glow of the night, the short hours you had left until the sun rose once again. The days would grow longer again, as would your sleep, as the dreadful months of summer sequestered you inside. 

Picking up your ring, you left the bank, elevated. The ground seemed to fall below you as you meandered home, and the sound of the humans, those still awake at such an hour, though loud, was muddled. Nothing but a cacophony of nonsense as your own thoughts rattled even louder in your head. 

The closer you got to home, to Atsushi, the more you grew to question yourself, to feel sick with your own actions. It was weakness that had drawn you to such an act. You were nothing but a slave to your hunger, to the bloodlust, and the anger that rose up in you. 

Dazai had always been so controlled, so careful and cautious. You, on the other hand, had never been a master of your emotions — you went on killing without worry. A glutton when it came to the bodies you drained. 

“Everything alright?” your neighbor asked, smoking on the balcony as her husband slept inside, perhaps the only reprieve she ever got from the miserable man. 

You approached, waved her off, hoping that she was drunk enough to forgot she ever saw you. Maybe she wouldn’t even care that the woman living next door was a killer. 

That was a laughable idea. 

“Everything’s fine.” you spat out, sharply, not even bothering to look in her direction before you returned to your townhome, slamming the door behind you. It rattled on the hinges, the wood cracking, the frame beside the door shaking, before landing crooked.

A few angry tears emerged in your eyes, and you rubbed them away, your hand coated in watery, red blood, smearing into your skin. “Fuck,” you muttered, shaking your head as you looked to the bedroom, where you knew Atsushi wasn’t… Even though he should’ve been. 

You screamed, bending over to catch yourself, before you kicked at the wall, a large hole breaking the plaster from the strength you’d forgotten you had. Then you screamed again. And again. Your nails tore into your arms in a ghastly, inhuman way, the skin merely stitching itself back up almost as immediately as you ripped it. 

You could lay there, you thought, glancing over at the windows on the opposite side of the room, the beautiful, golden rock in the sky winking at you as she began to fade into the evening. How easy it would be, to open the glass panels, stand before them and let yourself burn into ashes. You could finally face the sun, let the last century and a half become a mere fraction of what your life could’ve been.

But you didn’t. 

You had some strength in you yet. 

Turning away from the window, you crept into one of the spare bedrooms, where the old coffin you’d slept in before rested on the ground. You’d gotten so used to sleeping in that bed, with Atsushi, that you’d almost forgotten you still had that sense of comfort. 

It was a safety net, one that you happily shrouded yourself in as you dusted off the black cover, settling into the silk red sheets you’d chosen yourself. The feeling of sleep there was so reminiscent of your old life, you half expected to open your eyes and see Dazai there, who had laid beside you, many years after death. 

For the first time in decades, you felt more like a vampire than a pathetic attempt of remaining human. You weren’t sure what to make of that.

Atsushi had crept in and out that morning without making a peep, leaving for the office before the crack of dawn, and returning just as you were emerging from your coffin. 

It was, you knew, something that he had never been able to reconcile with your lifestyle — sleeping in such a way, like the old monsters did, the stories that had always been told. That had partially been the reason he’d offered to take on the daunting task of sun-proofing your home. 

“Are you okay, honey?” Atsushi had asked in his soft voice, eyes narrowed in concern as you emerged from the coffin. “I was worried when I didn’t see you in the room.” 

You smiled, tersely, suddenly remembering yourself, the entirety of last night being chalked up to a poor mistake. It was regrettable, even if Peter was a lousy husband, that his wife would wake up, not knowing where he was. And if he had children, what would they think of their father’s disappearance?

“I’m fine,” you said, shaking off those thoughts. Atsushi certainly didn’t need to be worrying about you, and the murder of a cheating man hardly seemed a sin compared to your hypocrisy. “It just feels strange sleeping in our bed, knowing you won’t be coming home.” 

Atsushi’s eyes softened. His romantic ideals had always been something you could speak to. “I know we’ve had a bit of a rough go of things, but…” he shrugged, reaching out to you, before retracting his hand. “I don’t like staying with Ranpo. I would rather be here, you know.” 

You knew. Of course you knew. It hadn’t been Atsushi that had insisted upon his removal from the apartment. 

“I’m sorry,” you sighed.

“It’s okay.” For a moment, he looked away, then rubbed his face. “I know we said we would wait — that I would wait until we were married, but,” a brief pause, as he swallowed. “Maybe, you should turn me now. If I’m still a risk to you.” 

There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, even if his eyes were steadfast. Atsushi still had faith in his humanity, still held onto it tightly, though every moment spent with you left it quickly slipping through the cracks of his fingers. 

But it was never an issue of marriage that had kept you from turning Atsushi. It was the fact that he was so good, so unlike you and Dazai, that you wanted to put it off for as long as possible. 

You smiled, though it was pained, and shook your head. Imagining Atsushi as a vampire was beginning to make you ill, the vision so against the will of the universe that you weren’t sure it could ever come to pass. 

“I’m okay now, I think. I’ve taken care of it.” 

He didn’t ask what that meant. 

You didn’t bother to tell him, either. 

PART VI

sorry this one is kind of a filler >< i promise there will be more exciting stuff soon !!

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[the-dawn-star]

Hii!! Can you do Jane x reader where she’s Jane’s mate but still human. One day some important information gets leaked out and everyone in the volturi thinks the reader leaked the info. (Aro can’t read her mind) So they question her for a long time and when she still says that she didn’t do it they make Jane torture her with her power. As Jane is torturing her someone walks in and says that she didn’t do it. By the time Jane stops the reader is passed out. Everyone and mostly Jane regrets what they’ve done. The reader doesn’t wake up for a few days and Jane is in absolute sorrow. And when she finally wakes up she doesn’t even look Jane in the eyes bc of the betrayal she feels. Just a lot of angst yk:))) Buuut they make up in the end. Thank youuu🫶🏻

A/N: Hi and first of all love this idea. I kind of made this longer than intended and I left it guite open ended but I hope you like it and you don't mind I changed it a bit. Once again Jane is the movie version of the character!!!

-S

+800ish words.

CW: I mean Jane tortures Reader. Heavy angst.

Your relationship had been a struggle for a long time. You were still a human and now you were moved to Volterra to live with the vampire royalty. It was all so much, but so was your blossoming love for Jane. Your dear Jane. Jane whose main priority in life was protecting the kings and working. It was all that she had ever known, and you couldn’t even blame her for that. But Jane had started to open up to you as time went on. She talked to you about the most mundane things in her life but in truth you could have listened to her for hours.  

Aro hadn’t loved the idea of Jane finding her mate. He was so protective of the girl that he had found hundreds of years ago. And you didn’t make this protectiveness any easier. Quickly Aro had found out that his powers didn’t work on you. Reason for this wasn’t clear but after a bit of convincing Aro accepted you to move to Volterra to get to know Jane better.  

“My love...” Jane had the voice of an angel and that was the only thing that could wake you up from your sleep without making you pissed off.  

You let out a non-committal groan and opened your eyes.  

“I’m sorry but I need to go to work. There has been a problem...” Jane being evasive made you sit up in worry.  

“What’s wrong?”  

“I can’t talk about it yet, just stay here until I get back, okay?”  

You didn’t have time to answer until your mate had left the room leaving you alone on the cold bed.  

With a bit of hesitation, you laid back down and slowly fell back asleep.  

~~~ 

You woke up with your room door being slammed open. Two guards that you didn’t know walked in and didn’t give you any time before ripping you from the bed and dragged you out of the room.  

You begged for some sort of explanation. Anything that made you understand why you were being dragged to the lower levels of the castle... The levels where you weren’t allowed to go. The levels where Jane had to work sometimes, leaving her exhausted as a vampire can be.  

You were thrown into a small simple room, with a tiny table, chair and a bed, if you could call a mattress with a pillow a bed.  

It was a while before you saw anyone but when you finally saw a person you didn’t assume it would be Jane. Your dear Jane.  

“Jane! My love! What’s going on?!” You asked, hurrying to the door trying to reach your love.  

“Don’t..., I know what you did.”  

The love that you had come so used to was gone from her eyes. Her eyes were pooling with venom and her eyes were dark and sad.  

“What are you talking about?” You asked while feeling the anxiety rising up to the surface.  

“Don’t play dumb! You were the only one I told about the plans! Aro was read everyone's minds already! It has to be you so just admit it please!” 

Jane’s yells bounced off the walls and for the first time looking at her you didn’t see your love. You saw a terrified and angry young woman, who could case you more pain than you could ever imagine. Was this what most people saw when looking at your mate? Danger? Pain?  

“Are you talking about the Romanians? Is this all about that!”  

Jane had told you about Aro’s plan to kill the rest of the Romanian coven, but all the details she had told you were now erased from your mind by time.  

“Yes, it is, so just confess!” Your normally calm Jane, she was panicking.  

You didn’t have anything left to say. You were confused, scared, angry..., alone. Your only ally in the castle, your dear Jane, had left you.  

“Okay..., if that’s what you want...,” Jane’s words were ominous, and your stress level rose to the roof.  

Then the pain started. The pain that Jane had promised you would never feel. The blinding, fiery pain. You couldn’t feel your body anymore, it was just pain. Until it all went away... 

~~~ 

You finally opened your eyes. You woke up back in your bed and for a second it all seemed like a bad dream. You took a deep breath letting yourself sink into the mattress. But your peace was interrupted when you took a look around the room. 

Jane was curled into a corner of the room, eyes glued to you. Her sad eyes. Her black eyes pooled with venom.  

You couldn’t look at her, not right now at least, so you got up from the terribly comfortable bed and walked straight to the bathroom locking it behind you.  

You looked like death. Tired and angry, but you couldn’t do anything about that just yet.  

“I’m really sorry..., you have to believe me, my love. We really thought that it was you...” Jane’s words behind the door didn’t make you feel any better. And to make sure you didn’t lash out you stayed quiet. You had all the right to be quiet after screaming your throat raw.

~~~

Feel like you want to support me via Kofi? No preasure tho!

[queenoftheimps]

Artistic Expression as a Form of Love: aka Some Meta About Interview with the Vampire

hey guess who spent all of today putting off a really boring work task

So I'm just suddenly just having a lot of feelings about how love is tied to creation in Interview with the Vampire.

Specifically, each character's artistic impulses and what they say about their relationships, and how they use their creative output as a sort of love language.

From the very first episode, we see hints of this. Miss Lilly asks about Lestat's music box, which plays a song he wrote for Nicholas once upon a time, evidence of his love for someone who's been dead for over a century.

He later writes his own song for Louis, 'Come to Me', and Claudia makes the connection explicit while deliberately poking at him -- he wrote a song for each of his true loves, but does one signal love more strongly than the other?

She's being facetious to prod at him, but the show seems to genuinely make the point that we can track each characters' relationships through the art we see them create.

After all, we see it with Claudia herself later -- even before there's any discussion of becoming companions, we can feel Madeleine's compatibility with Claudia in the way she makes dresses for her.

Madeleine dresses Claudia as the grown woman she wants to be seen as, as she really is, even before she fully understands the circumstances of Claudia's age. It's telling that in Madeleine's dying vision, the one that convinces Louis of her love for Claudia, that Claudia is wearing a dress that Madeleine made for her.

By contrast, we see how Claudia is incompatible with the coven in the role that they have quite literally written for her. If Madeleine shows her love by treating Claudia as an adult, the coven shows their lack of caring by creating artwork where Claudia is forced into playing a part that diminishes her.

In turn, we can see Claudia's enthusiasm for the coven tied into her willingness to perform -- she starts off trying to smile her way through the situation, before quickly growing tired of the performance (and, relatedly, the coven itself).

But then again, how does the coven show its real loyalties? Well, with a painting.

We don't know who painted Lestat (Armand, possibly?), but having artwork of him in a place of prominence is pretty telling. But then again, the theater's creation is itself a reflection of art as a signifier of love & bonding -- Lestat suggests a theater to a lonely Armand as a way to regain a family/coven structure, after the last one fell apart.

Which makes particular sense for Armand, the character who most explicitly equates artistic expression with love and understanding. We see him underline it in his own telling of his backstory -- "No one has painted me in over 400 years." He associates painting with being seen and cared for by his maker --

-- and yet we, the audience, can plainly see what a warped, toxic relationship it was from the painting itself : a whitewashed version of Armand's face that doesn't truly look like him.

Hell, we even see Armand's betrayal of Louis in the form of creative expression -- to quote Daniel, "He directed the play!"

His treason isn't just that he sold Louis & Claudia out, it's that he participated in a creation that would condemn them. Artistic expression shows us love and loyalty in this world, yes, but it can also be used as a tool of abuse or betrayal.

Which brings us to Louis, he who has the eye for art but maybe not the skill for it, who never said 'I love you' to Lestat and wouldn't call Armand his companion, who ultimately gives up on creation in favor of becoming a collector.

It's especially interesting that his abandonment of photography is also explicitly tied to the end of his visions of Dreamstat. Even the one photo he takes that garners praise is one he tries taking of Armand & Dreamstat at the same time -- as if the closest he can get to expressing love through creation is something that blurs the lines between both men he has complicated feelings for. (Note that the scene where he develops the photo is directly after the "Show me the only way you know how to love" sequence of Louis bashing some guy's head into a wall.)

Hell, if we want to take it even further, we can even see some of this pretense in the inclusion of the Fred Stein photos (assuming Armand actually did sneak them in). On one level, we can see it as Armand trying to build up Louis' happiness, but on the other, it's him trying to build up the image of their romance.

After all, if artistic creation is a sign of love -- especially to Armand! -- what does it mean if Louis is openly disparaging his own abilities to make anything at all?

Taking it further, what does it say that he and Armand have a collection of photos of various boys over the years and expensive artwork hanging on every wall, but Louis doesn't seem to have taken any pictures of Armand in almost eighty years?

And hey, speaking of fascinating boys: what does it mean when Louis hasn't made anything creative of Armand since the 1940s, but he has no problem writing a book for ten hours with some guy he picked up at the bar?

Hell, writing a book where Louis spends ten hours talking about his life and hasn't even gotten up to the part with Armand yet? The supposed love of his life doesn't even garner a mention, to the point where Daniel didn't even know he existed when he arrives fifty years later.

And what does it mean when that book you never wrote is a giant hanging thread in your life, enough to create a connection strong enough that you remember that guy fifty years later and go back to that writing it? Even over the objections of the love of your life?

Especially when find out that Daniel's entire writing career is sparked in part by inspirational words given to him by Louis -- a sign of their bond withstanding the test of time, enough to make them friends after a fifty year absence.

That said, if we're working with the idea of artistic expression as proof of connection -- especially when it comes to Armand -- then it also makes perfect sense why Armand would insert himself into the interview once he's been revealed.

Then it's no longer about Louis & Daniel, or Louis & Lestat, it's about Louis & Armand and artistic proof of their connection! They're both now creating a story, a book that will include their entire romance! It's the first time that Armand has had the possibility of being an artistic subject in decades, so no wonder he's quick to latch onto it.

Even then, though: I think it's interesting that when Armand is talking to Daniel alone, the first story he thinks to tell him about is his relationship with Lestat. Make of that what you will.

(Also, I've said this before, but I am very curious what Armand's feelings towards Daniel will be after having an entire book written in which he plays a starring role.)

I think that this is all very rich with subtext and possible further progression, especially since we are about to enter a season where a new book is being written by Daniel and there's going to be an entire tour's worth of music being performed, all of it ripe with potential for further relationship nuance.

And while I don't want to wander too far into book spoiler territory, I think this might even neatly factor into a potential Season 4 -- especially since book fans will know that a specific musical performance is the catalyst for a lot of what happens in The Queen of the Damned.

[shiklah]

sacrifice

Castlevania

Hector x vampire!reader

She loved to peek into that room, shrouded in darkness. She would watch him in secret as he brought to life another hellish creature, which writhed at his feet with a cacophony of noise. She observed his face—focused, grim, and gray.

No human had ever been so close to her, even though they hadn't spoken much. Yet he fascinated her to the point where she could watch him for days. He was proud, intelligent, a creator... No king or monarch, willing to give up their treasures for a mere glimpse of her attention, could compare to him. He had no wealth, only talent. Oh, but what talent it was.

"You are magnificent," she finally spoke, seeing Hector set down the hammer on the stone table and straighten himself with a heavy movement. She stepped deeper into the room, and he gave her a tired glance. "I didn’t mean to interrupt, but truly, you are fascinating. What you do is fascinating."

"I saw you watching me," he replied at last, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned against the stone counter and measured her with his eyes, from her feet to the top of her head. She wore a purple gown that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. Her hair, partly styled in intricate braids at the back of her head, partly flowing down her shoulders, framed her pale face. Her lips were accentuated by dark lipstick, which emphasized the whiteness of her sharp, dagger-like fangs—something that had caught his attention when she had laughed with a delicate, pearly sound at his words.

"I must admit, I thought I could get away with it," she shook her head as if somewhat embarrassed by the fact she had been caught in the act. "But why didn’t you say a word?"

The man lowered his gaze from her and fixed it on the stone floor. A silence settled, interrupted only by his steady breathing and the rustling of her precious gown. She studied his pale hair, simple robe, calloused hands, and couldn’t escape the thought that they were so very different from one another.

"Your gaze flatters me," he admitted in a soft, deep voice, and she felt a sudden shiver run down her spine. She smiled instantly and walked even deeper into the room, maneuvering between the patches of dried blood staining the floor.

He saw her figure glide toward him like a swan over the calm surface of a lake, but she only seemed real when he felt her presence beside him. Usually, vampires stirred feelings of unease and disgust in him, maybe a specific kind of fascination, but she was different. Just one of her glances, sent through a small crack in the door, could give him so much confidence and spread through his body a warm, unexpected wave of safety and love he had never felt before. He wasn’t even sure if it was love or if he simply didn’t want to name that feeling.

"You’re kind to me," she suddenly said, placing her cool, delicate hand on his rough, warm one. He looked into her dead eyes, noticing sadness and worry in them—feelings he hadn’t expected. She was a cheerful soul, which was rare in their times. That made her even more special and fascinating to him. "Know that I know very well what Carmilla advised you to do. I knew from the very beginning."

He didn’t know why he was surprised. Her and Carmilla were sisters. They ruled together in Styria, came to Dracula’s castle together, made decisions together, and planned every step together. He realized that she must have known about the dishonorable proposal that Carmilla had made to him and that he had been pondering so intensely.

He was surprised, however, that she had also brought up this topic with him. He couldn’t reconcile her delicate, pleasant nature with betrayal, war, and death.

"If you ask me, I will agree without hesitation," he whispered at last, confessing all the feelings he carried inside him, feelings he hadn’t dared name. He felt her slender fingers tighten on his hand and sensed her exhale heavily as she traced her thumb along his wrist.

"Don’t agree, Hector," she finally said, closing her eyes. She released his hand and sighed deeply. "Carmilla is an excellent strategist and a woman of great intellect, but her heart is as hard as stone. Beware, she will use you without mercy and treat you like a dog when the time that favors her comes. Don’t let her deceive you, and leave this castle as soon as possible. Flee the land of Wallachia."

Her words seemed not to reach him. How many times had he thought about how he could start a new life, with her by his side? Maybe it was naive thinking, but that hope was the only thing that could bring even a shadow of a smile to his face.

"And forgive me," she sobbed, swaying on her feet. Hector caught her almost limp body and held her tightly to his chest, not letting her fall. "Forgive me for agreeing to be a part of this plot. Carmilla was my whole world, I knew nothing but her. This may not be an excuse, but know that I wish neither anger nor death upon you. So I advise you to flee, and it would be better if fate never brought you across my path again."

Her despair seemed almost theatrical, but he knew it was sincere. He pulled her tighter to his body, squeezing almost all the air out of her. The woman breathed heavily again and quietly cried, pressing her hands to her chest.

"Run away with me," he suddenly proposed, pushing her away from him by the length of his arm. She staggered in his still strong grip like a doll, struggling to regain her balance. "I know you don’t desire war and conquest. I know you don’t need fame and power. So run away with me."

She heard footsteps on the stairs and immediately broke free from his embrace. They both carefully watched the entrance to the room, expecting the appearance of an unexpected guest or someone who, with ill intent, had overheard their emotional conversation. And it didn’t matter whether it was someone connected to Carmilla or Dracula, in both cases, they would be deprived of their lives.

"We are too reckless," she finally said when the last echo of the footsteps disappeared into the darkness of the gloomy corridor. "If I run away with you, I will remain your problem for a long, long time, if not for eternity. Are you ready for that sacrifice, Hector?"

[whereserpentswalk]

You're a vampire. Nobody around you know, some suspect but they don't know. You understand that you're privileged to be able to hide it, there are vampires with maws of sharp teeth, or bat's wings, or other inhuman features, that mean they'll never pass as human. All you have is unusually pale skin, and small fangs, and you can use makeup to hide the first one. People just don't notice, and it doesn't feel like a big deal, because you make it so they don't suspect, so they never ask, so you never have to lie with words.

You have to make it so you look especially human to make people think you aren't a vampire. You wear bright colors, never black, anything people would consider "cute" but not too sexual, things that make you look small and harmless. You don't express interest in anything that seems too vampiric, like any horror media, or the type of music vampires like. And when you have to, you'll look down on vampires in ways only humans do, you couldn't be safe if someone asked why you had sympathy for them, so you don't, you don't look down on them too much, just a casual socially acceptable amount.

And you have to feel certain amounts of pain. You stand out in the sun, you can't always avoid it without revealing what you are, and it hurts, it burns your skin, its bad for you, but showing what you are is worse. You refuse to eat food of course, but you can't tell why, people must think you're starving yourself. But there's always an excuse, even when you're shamefully looking at the waiter, thinking about how he would taste.

There's something shameful about wanting to drink blood and knowing you can't, thinking about what it would be like to taste your friends. It feels like you're hurting them, with these desires that you can never tell them about. If you ever did tell them it would feel like a betrayal. When you saw your first boyfriend naked you felt so sorry about wanting to do that to him. Things didn't work out with him of course, it was impossible to be intimate, your genitals are dead and useless, and there was no way to tell him how much pleasure you'd get just from having him touch your mouth, your teeth, your gums...

There's a jealously you have for monsters who are open about their inhumanity. Vampires of course, but even seeing ghouls, or werewolves, or demons who are out of the closest, living their lives without secrets, being friends with each other, getting to do all of those oh so stereotypical things, it's a strange sense of envy. You used to tell them that you aren't like them that at least you're civilized, but it's all melted away. Sometimes you wish your body had never been able to pass at all, that you looked so inhuman that you could be truly doomed to always be seen as a monster.

Of course, there are just as many times you're reminded of why it's safe for you to stay this way. When you see how vampires and other monsters are talked about by those around you. When you see induvial monsters turned away from somewhere because they're 'dangerous looking'. When you hear what some religions have to say about your kind. Even just the side glances, and desire for distance, that so many seem to have when there's a monster in conversation. The worst-case scenario when someone is targeted by a monster hunter. Even if your college has a lot of monsters, even if your city is relatively accepting, you know you'll never be 100% safe. And you tell yourself that you can avoid all of that.

You were turned into a vampire pretty recently, right out of high school. Your parents seem accepting only on the condition that you're quiet about it. Part of it is that you're not ready for your human life to end yet. You're not ready for everything that you once were to fall away, and not ready for your last chance to have human friends to disappear.

There's a girl in one of your classes who you think is a werewolf, she hides it but not perfectly. You wish you could say so much to her, you wish you could talk to her. You think she wishes the same. You share glances, those glances say so much.

[coraniaid]

buffy/faith for the ask game

(Reverse unpopular opinions)

Easily my favorite Buffy ship and one of my favorites in any work of fiction. I think the main reasons it works so well for me are:

The way it resonates so strongly with what's going on in the rest of the show the season Faith arrives. I mean, Buffy comes out to her mother (as a Slayer), which is treated by the show as ... well, as Buffy coming out ("it's because you didn't have a strong father figure, isn't it?" / "have you tried ... not being a Slayer?" / "I've tried to march in the Slayer Pride Parade...") and a handful of episodes later Buffy meets another girl who is also a Slayer and who she starts spending a lot of time with (because they have a connection -- "it's kind of a Slayer thing" -- which she doesn't have with her other, non-Slayer friends). And while they're busy patrolling cemeteries and looking for vampires every night, this other Slayer is keen to (1) talk to Buffy about sex and quiz her on her love life; (2) repeatedly tell her that "all men are beasts" and "losers" who can't be trusted; (3) suggest that Buffy should be more open to having sex with the people she spends her nights hunting vampires with (like ... who, Faith?); and (4) is delighted when Buffy breaks up with her boyfriend (and later furious when she gets back together with her previous ex) and immediately suggests that she could replace him ("You're still going to that dance, right? [...] Why don't we go together?"). If this was deliberately laying the ground work for an explicitly romantic arc, it would feel pretty heavy-handed. The fact that it apparently wasn't (at least not on the part of the showrunner or of most of the writers) almost makes it work better, in some ways.

The way that Faith is, from the very beginning, very deliberately written as a foil for Buffy, a person Buffy might have been if things went just a little differently in her life -- because she goes through things very much like things the audience has already seen Buffy go though (living alone in a small place in a strange town with no friends all season the way Buffy did in Anne, panicking and starting to pack to run away in Faith, Hope & Trick in the same way Buffy was accused of doing just the episode before, killing a person the way Buffy thought she had in Season 2's Ted, the way her fear of Kakistos mirrors Buffy's fear of the Master in When She Was Bad) and because she is so aware of the fact that she's always being compared to Buffy and coming up short, either by other people or herself ("you get the Mom, you get the Watcher ... what do I get?") it's very easy to tie Faith's arc across the show back to Buffy and to her feelings about Buffy. Faith wanting Buffy to accept her becomes Faith wanting this idealized version of herself to forgive her failings. And likewise Buffy recriprocating Faith's feelings and admitting to herself that she is attracted to Faith becomes Buffy accepting that Faith (and the things she represents) really are an integral part of Buffy herself; that Faith isn't entirely wrong when she says that Buffy enjoys being a Slayer and that being a Slayer is something she should be proud of (or, again, being "a Slayer").

Apparently this wasn't the original plan for the character (if there ever was anything like an 'original plan'), but the fact Faith's arc in Season 3 so clearly mirrors Angel's in Season 2 -- and the fact she is so very weird about Angel all season (and that Buffy is equally weird about how attracted to Faith she just keeps insisting Angel must be) just naturally suggests that Faith might have a similiar role to Angel in the narrative beyond just the circumstances of her betrayal of (and later not-quite-being-killed by) Buffy. And Angel is -- for the first three seasons of the show at least -- primarily cast in the role of Buffy's doomed tragic love interest who she has to (metaphorically) kill but will later be reunited with. Which makes Faith ... well, something.

Even if not all the writers were on board, the fact that Eliza Dushku was deliberately playing Faith as attracted to Buffy (and that SMG was playing Buffy as alternately frustrated by and protective of and tempted by Faith) gives their scenes together a chemistry that I don't think most of Buffy's (or Buffy's) canon relationships ever managed. Whether that's the Amends porch scene or Buffy kissing Faith in the hospital in Graduation Day or any and all of their various fights across the show. And those fight scenes are all great, which is another thing I love about the ship: is it really a proper enemies-to-lovers arc if one of the people in it hasn't tried to kill the other one and left them in a coma for months?

Faith's return to Buffy in the last five epsiodes of the show is one of the last season's saving graces, and it helps that by this point the writers definitely seemed to be playing up the ship deliberately ("Willow said you needed me: didn't give it a lot of thought" / "Defensiveness and weird mixed signals ... I've got Faith for that" / "Deep down you've always wanted Buffy to accept you. To love you." / "It feels like it's mine ... I guess that means it's yours"). Even without ever being canon and without wandering what happens post-Chosen, it feels like there's a real narrative arc to their relationship, from their initially rocky start through to "just good friends" to bitter enemies through to Faith seeking (and finding) some measure of redemption and Buffy cautiously letting her back into her life. Faith isn't in the show much (or even mentioned in the show in most episodes), but it feels like she has a genuinely meaningful connection to Buffy that most characters who appeaer in less than a season's worth of episodes can't manage.

The thing that made the ship work for me, rewatching the show after several years back in 2020, is the fact that Faith is -- even at her worst -- incredibly sympathetic precisely because she is such a loser and hates herself so much. She boasts about being a great actor despite the fact we see her awkwardly telling the sort of transparent lies that ... well, normally only Buffy manages (compare "There's this big party ..." in Amends to Buffy trying to tell her old crush Ford that "there was a cat ... and then there was another cat, and they were fighting"), she wants people to think she's cool so badly but only manages to fool Xander and Willow, she tries to act as though she's happy without friends but we only ever see her alone sitting watching old tv shows or lying listlessly on her bed, she insists she doesn't need a Watcher and "has a problem with authority figures" but she is so openly desperate for any sort of parental guidance in her life that she sides with first Mrs Post then the Mayor. She ties Buffy's mom up so she can have someone to listen to how sad she is that Buffy's moved on to a new guy in college and "dumped" her. The scene in the church in Who Are You? where Faith-as-Buffy furiously attacks Buffy-as-Faith while screaming through tears that she's "nothing ... disgusting ... murderous bitch" is, I think, a strong contendor for the best scene the show ever produced.

As Doug Petrie said, the reason Faith works as a character -- and the reason that Buffy/Faith works as a ship -- is that Faith is incredibly unhappy. If Faith was the cool loner she tries to pass herself off as -- and which some of the fandom seems to think she is -- the ship wouldn't be nearly as compelling to me. Faith isn't just the part of Buffy who loves Slaying and pushes back when other people give her orders, and she's not just another verison of Angelus. She's the part of Buffy from Becoming who lost everything and ran away from home, only unlike Buffy she never got to go home again. As Angel asked Buffy in that episode: "no friends, no hope ... take that away, what's left?". Well, Faith is what's left. Of course Buffy would see herself in Faith, right from the beginning. Of course Buffy would want to protect her. As Buffy (Sunnydale Class Protector 1999) tells Angel, Faith is in pain ... she's somebody who "some people ... protective-type people" are naturally drawn to. The show is very consistent about the fact that Buffy's type is friendless losers who look good in leather and can fight alongside her in battle (but not quite as well, so she can protect them and look after them when they're hurt). And what bigger loser in the show is there than Faith?

[nightcolorz]

Armand could definitely 100% have prevented Claudia and Madeline’s death like obviously he is so full of shit 😭😭 he just chose not to. I dont think he was lying about being held captive, though. It seems more likely to me that he allowed himself to be imprisoned bcus the ultimate outcome would be desirable, rather then like, he was secretly orchestrating it all like a devious Master mind and was only pretending to be a prisoner to trick Louis. I think Armand was genuinely being imprisoned, but he could have easily escaped (as if the vampire Armand couldn’t win in a fight against Sam The Twink), and chose not to because it’s in his best interest for Claudia and Madeline to die 😭. While part of his betrayal I think comes from a comfort Armand takes in learned helplessness, where taking action feels less safe then leaning into victimhood, so armand chooses to accept helplessness rather then play the hero bcus helplessness is comforting, it was also definitely part “I want these two people to be gone from my life and this seems like a sure fire way to let it happen while I get to remain mostly blameless” 😭. Armand finds Claudia’s whole existence horrific and cruel. I don’t think he particularly likes or dislikes her as a person, he doesn’t seem to know her very well nor care to know her (he actually says this in tva lol), so I don’t think he considered letting her a die an act of spite.

Armand thought of Claudia as a suffering, rabid, sick and diseased animal that needed to be put down for its own well being. He considered her death an inevitable tragedy that “could not be prevented”, and bcus of his perspective on vampirism as a horrible curse that can only be spared through very specific very calculated and clean cut means, he wanted her death to come as quick and painlessly as possible. From Armand’s perspective, if he saved Claudia from death by execution, he’d only end up watching her excruciatingly loose her mind and self until she eventually killed herself or got put down by Armand or someone else Nicki style so that she wouldnt need to live in agony anymore.

Which, his whole perspective there is flawed, and fucked up, and dehumanizing of Claudia, but it makes sense why he would think that way. Armand considers vampirism to be always bad, regardless of the subject turned, and always smth he would hate to inflict on someone. So claudias turning, is not only cruel to Armand, but unforgivable and unsalvageable. He’s seen a lot of fucked up vampires in his time, a lot of botched turnings, and he knows from his experience how much of a toll vampirism takes on anyone, let alone someone in the body of a child. His whole “I will never turn someone into a vampire ever in my life” thing comes from this. So, of course he won’t save claudia from such a clean cut, blameless death 😭. He considers it an act of mercy, when he pictures the alternative as “Claudia clings to Madeline as she painfully looses her mind and eventually dies”. Which, comes into why he didn’t save Madeline either lol

Armand doesn’t particularly value life as smth to be worth preserving, he is very willing to view other ppl as commodities when it helps him. But he does value preserving peace and limiting other’s suffering (which is why he kills so gently). Armand is so horrified by Madeline being turned, partly bcus I think he saw himself in her. He sees a fledgling who he believes will inevitably loose her maker, the only person she rlly cares about, to horrible gruesome death, and he knows that once she experiences that her life as an immortal will be cruel and unbearable. So once she is turned, Armand sees another lost cause who will be better off if she is killed before it can get bad. What Armand misses when it comes to Claudia and Madeline, obviously, is that they r more resilient and self sufficient then he sees, and taking away their agency by deciding they have no hope and must die isn’t the mercy he sees it as but is actually like, fucked up and horrible. Armand is so blinded by his trauma fueled dog eat dog view of life as a vampire that he can’t see that.

I think the reason armand considers the perks of Claudia and Madeline’s death a priority over Louis’s happiness (and horrible grief that will ensue when his loved ones die), is bcus Armand considers Claudia and Madeline’s death an inevitable consequence of Louis’s unforgivably cruel actions. He doesn’t resent Louis for it I don’t think, but he definitely thinks that Louis will need to atone for what he’s done whether Armand wants him to or not. So, Armand is ok with Louis grieving (as long as it doesn’t turn to resentment of Armand), bcus it was ultimately inevitable, and comparatively less cruel then what he would have to witness alternatively. It’s a rip the Band aid off type of thing 😭😭

in conclusion uh Armand is bad but Armand has his reasons and Armand isn’t one dimensionally villainous, he has a ton of complex trauma induced reasons for the way he thinks, and his actions r more often then not coming from a warped view of “the kind thing to do” that comes from his lack of understanding of how kind the world actually is and can be (dog eat dog mindest etc), bcus of how horribly traumatized he is. thank u good night

[layer-of-slayers]

Thinking about that ridiculous scene in s6 when Xander walks in on Spike and Buffy having some extremely noticeable sexual tension (and also some hand stuff going on i think?) in Buffy’s kitchen, where they are standing like 5 centimetres away from one another TOPS and yet still when Xander walks in his reaction is to obliviously snark at Spike about how he could “still be trying to mack on Buffy” and telling him to get it through his head that it’s “never going to happen”, which never quite made sense to me.

But now I am seeing it through the lenses of my new Xander realisation and noticing the parallel that Xander himself has (perhaps only subconsciously) traced between Spike and himself. He had a huge crush on Buffy and she rejected him and he knows she will never change her mind about it by s6 (though it sure took a while for that life lesson to sink in) and now he expects Spike to come to the same realisation. ‘Ugh, he’s still trying to mack on Buffy? Doesn’t he know she’s way out of their league? She’s already turned him down, told him so several times in fact, the next step is to accept it and move on, obviously, like Xander himself has had to do but trust Spike to be stubborn/annoying/bad at taking no for an answer.’

He’s seeing himself in Spike again, projecting his own attraction to Buffy and how that whole situation went down on Spike, assuming it must go the same way (except with Spike being Worse about it because of course as a vampire he’s inherently inferior to Xander himself in Xander’s eyes).

When it is revealed that Spike and Buffy had a thing in Entropy, Xander takes it as a personal betrayal. Xander bought into the Angel exception, into the story of Angel’s exceptionality. Yeah, Buffy loved him and dated him but he had a soul. It didn’t make him good enough in Xander’s eyes, but it did make him different. Spike doesn’t have that. Therefore, Buffy would never even consider him. And after Angel, Buffy dated Riley, normal human (mostly) who Xander loved. Riley was exactly the kind of guy Xander wished he could be, and therefore exactly the right guy for Buffy in his eyes.

Spike outright tells him and still Xander refuses to believe him until he sees Buffy’s expression of shame. Then she tries to explain herself to him as though who she has sex with is in any way Xander’s business or a subject in which he should have a say. And that’s how he feels like, he feels Buffy betrayed his image of her and her sacred duty by allowing Spike to touch her, because she is (should be) too good for Spike, too good for the both of them, otherwise why did he never get a chance with her?

[avocado-writing]

Hi bestie. I would love some angst with Astarion and Tav(reader) where a shape changer turns into one of them to hurt the other and the aftermath of the hurt and the victim convinced it was real until they talk it through and make up? Sorry if that didnt really make sense

notes: none! just some angst set start of act 3. rating: T

pairing: Astarion x reader

You have a horrid feeling in the pit of your stomach as Astarion appears before you. Withers senses something in the air, something loaded, and decides to turn and count his coin; he doesn’t want to interrupt what’s about to come. 

Or more likely he doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. 

The way Astarion is staring at you… gods. You feel a tight grip in your chest as a thousand emotions flit over his face. Hurt. Betrayal. Anger. Confusion. Before you can open your mouth he shoves past you, making a beeline for his tent. 

“Astarion, wait - !”

He doesn’t, so you have to jog a little to keep up. Go to put a hand on his arm, think better of it. Don’t want to upset him any further with unwanted physical touch. 

“Please - ”

“Oh, now you want to talk? Suddenly changed your mind after treating me like a bloody pincushion? I thought you were…” he trails off for a second, before finishing with, “I’ve got nothing to say to you,” he sneers, eyes solidly focussed in front of him, acting as if you weren’t even there. 

That stings. But of course he’s angry, he doesn’t know the whole story. You battle through the hurt and manage to stand in front of him, blocking his path and finally getting him to meet your gaze. 

“It wasn’t me! It was a gods-damned Doppelganger!”

He stops. Good. That got his attention.  

Your mind flits back to the other night, the horrid scene as your adventuring party for the day made it back to camp, when you figured all your companions were asleep - a horrid, faux-copy of you with a deadly blade sunk deep into your vampire’s neck. Given the secluded nature of the spot, the “two of you” may have been in the middle of a private moment. He was ripped open from several stab wounds, pale body bathed in garnet blood, and after a loud fight woke the rest of the camp… 

Well. After that everyone worked on bringing him back as quickly as possible, even though you were shaking from shock and sobs. 

Astarion searches your face. He’s looking for a tell. He’s looking for the slightest indication that you actually were the one tearing him to pieces. You want to tell him how stupid that is. Of course you’d never hurt him, change your mind and try to dispose of him in the worst way you could (and if you did, why bring him back?) You’d hoped he’d trusted you more than that. But, being in Baldur’s Gate, with Cazador so close… well, it’s no wonder that nerves are frayed. Logic has gone out the window until he can be forced to hear it.

“It must have been Orin. You know how she’s been hounding us. She probably saw how close we were, and decided to… well, try to hit us where it would hurt. And I hate it. I hate that she used my body to trick you like that.”

Ah. That he understands. You can see Astarion turn this over in his mind, and with a small exhale he releases all the tension in his body. The obvious relief is quickly plastered over with a light laugh and the affectation of his usual laissez-faire attitude. 

“Oh. Well. Don’t I look like quite the fool, hmm? You know what they say about assumptions. They make an ass of you and… well, I’d say me, but usually that’s usually a rather difficult accomplishment.”

He’s trying to hide how genuinely hurt he was. The idea that you could turn on him broke him a little, you think. That you’d use him and discard him so casually… it breaks your heart. Carefully you reach out to take his hand. You feel him flinch just a tiny bit but he accepts the gesture. 

“I’m so sorry she got to you. I won’t let it happen again. I’d never, ever hurt you, Astarion. You know that I…”

The end of that sentence hangs between you, heavy, pregnant. But thankfully, rather than chasing the end of it, Astarion pulls you to him. His arms wrap around you and you feel the softness in his embrace. 

“I know. I know you do.”

And you hold him. Knowing you’d move the cosmos to keep him safe. 

[ineffably-human]

Nandor's better to Guillermo than I remember from my initial watch. It's still regressive (and it was starting to head that way in 4x10 too, so maybe this just continues from there), he still has times he's thoughtless and dismissive. But he's the one advocating the others listen, and that they do nice things for Guillermo. He's noticed something is wrong just like Laszlo, he just comes to a different conclusion. He listens to an offhand remark from Guillermo that wasn't even directed at him, just to get him a present.

Any shittiness he's engaging in comes from the very idea of Guillermo being a vampire. (The way Nandor brings that up to the others almost feels like he's been floating the idea in his head, which is a whole other thing; I'll see if I'm right with more episodes I guess and we'll take it at face value for now.) And aside from not wanting that to happen because it would change things, maybe lead to Guillermo leaving, etc it's laughable to him right now for the same reasons it would have been laughable to him in season 1 or 2. Guillermo is a little more assertive than in those years, but he's completely returned to the familiar role. He's reacting to Nandor with fear, more than he did even then.

Guillermo's big attitude change came with being a slayer, and now he seems to have forgotten that completely to the point that he doesn't even consider it as one of the reasons the transformation hasn't worked. He wasn't ready, he was in pain, this isn't how he imagined it (insert @cookinguptales's excellent meta on how it's all a big metaphor for virginity loss). And right now he doesn't know what his body is doing, and he's walking around consumed with guilt and imposter syndrome. Becoming a vampire is making him forget other real, important parts of who he is.

I think it's very easy for the vampires to regress - because of time, stagnation, etc - to an earlier point. Guillermo's regression is just as rapid-fire but it's from trauma. His intense desire to not want to talk about it, to wait over two weeks before the camera crew wears him down enough. To try and describe the turning as sexier and more intense and life-changing than it was, only to be jump-scared by Nandor and reminded that what he did was a (fully justified) betrayal. Has he forgotten that if Nandor really did want to kill him, Guillermo's kicked his ass without his now-perfect vision, and has killed dozens of vampires at a time? Or is the thought of hurting Nandor and fracturing that relationship the thing that hurts far worse here?

I'm a little insane about how, while in the process of going behind Nandor's back, while he's right about to get the thing he's ostensibly attached to Nandor for, he's insisting that Nandor will eventually do right by him and really truly cares about him. So much that Derek again asks Guillermo if he's sure about this.

Even more than the love search stuff Nandor dealt with over two seasons, all of this seems tailor-made to address the big unspoken questions of their relationship. What does Guillermo hope to gain as a vampire? How much of that involves his feelings for Nandor? What matters most to Nandor when it's Guillermo vs his own pride, especially if there were a real threat of losing him? Can they actually find their way to eternity together, and what does that look like when they do?

Which is to say, it's absolutely happening this season. And shit's going to get insane on the way.