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swordbisexual · 3 months ago

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Fight & Forgiveness

Rolan Week Day Three

In which Shaxibis saves Rolan, again, much to his increasing frustration. 1.9k words

(cross-posted to AO3)

Snap.

In this hells-cursed gods-damned place, whatever made the noise just over Rolan’s shoulder could be anything: a shadow-cursed creature toying with his mind, a branch snapping beneath the dried-out weight of a hundred years, another Harper whose face he only vaguely recognizes in his own tunnel vision determination and the decay of the curse that’s taken them at last. Perhaps it’s another cultist come to finish the job. Whatever it is, he doesn’t much care. The shadows have done more than enough to sober him back up, and he is ready to let loose a thunderwave on anything that dares stand between him and the crumbling fortress that looms up from the lakeside. He’s already made quick work of more than one shade. He can handle more.

My responsibility.

The words he spat out back in Last Light still ring through his mind. Cal and Lia are his to find, his to rescue, and he might as well die in the attempt. Better that than to die in slow, wine-poisoned anguish, with the omnipresent hero of the hour lingering just outside his line of sight.

Of course she’d returned. Of course the greatest commotion that the inn had seen since he and Alfira stumbled in with the children days prior - or tendays? time is meaningless in this cursed dark - was Shaxibis, come traipsing in with all her heroic friends as reckless as you please. He even overheard her give Jaheira a bit of backtalk, but rather than give a dressing-down like when he dared point out this place’s folly, the old Harper only barked a laugh at Shaxibis’ exhaustingly endless font of charisma.

“My responsibility,” he snapped at her, all but biting the hand she offered to rest on his shoulder in comfort. She doesn’t get to comfort him; she doesn’t get to do anything at all, what with the way she appeared as if summoned up from his darkest, most secret dreams from the road at their backs, when he could still indulge in dreaming about freckles that he counted in his mind’s eye til he drifted back off to sleep.

“Rolan,” she’d said, and her voice was too soft, too wonderful, and too much for him to bear. It was all concern and pity, which is all he’ll ever earn from her at this rate, and the knowing still aches in his chest.

He’d shaken off her hand like an angry dog and turned on her with a snarl. “Don’t.”

The pressure of the air around him suddenly drops with a whoosh through his ears that pops and clicks, drowning out even his own repeated mantra - my responsibility my responsibility mine - as a chill runs through him that goes down to the very marrow of his bones. There, just out of sight, is a darkness like a void, a shadow that lurks within shadows, nearly snuffing out the light of the torch in his hand.

The words of a spell he’s done a thousand times before catch in his throat, frozen like the ice that settles in his limbs, and he can only despair at the darkness that creeps in at the edges of his vision. This is it, then. His end. His failure. His complete and utter inability to save Cal and Lia, all over again, after all the times they’ve dragged him out of the depths of his own foolishness.

An end he deserves.

“Fiat lux!”

Brilliant spell-light, bright as the sun, bursts overhead, so sudden that it blinds him. The shadows surrounding him hiss and snarl, but the sound is drowned out in his ears by the sound of jumbled words and shouts as a saber swings through the air, and a cleric’s radiant bolt shatters the shadows apart for good.

And then, his name.

“Rolan!”

Shaxibis, again, always. The light doesn’t dim, but it’s eerie and unnatural, fighting against the dark and casting sharp shadows over Shaxibis’ face when she rushes to meet him. Perhaps that’s what makes her frown look so harsh, or perhaps she is actually upset for once. Regardless, she still looks so godsdamned unscathed by everything, while he can still feel the raking icy-death chill of the shadowed claws that ripped through his sleeve and dragged down his torch arm.

Anger flares up, pure and potent, and he spits out his reply with all the venom he can muster. “You. Of all bloody people.”

She recoils as if struck, and he only has a moment to feel a little sorry; her own anger flashes in her eyes, and for once, she grimaces instead of grins. “Oh, fuck off, you ungrateful prick.”

He is only dimly aware of her companions over her shoulder: Shadowheart’s normally dark and moody eyes gone wide in shock, Karlach’s uneasy cringe, Lae’zel’s ichor-splattered scowl deepening. A whole host of heroic women, then, come to save him from himself, and the sting of shame only throbs hotter at knowing he shouldn’t be so upset by it. It takes all his self-control not to fling his torch to the ground in frustration. “And why should I be grateful?”

Shaxibis steps closer, teeth bared. “I saved your sorry arse, again, and you’re being—”

“I never asked you to!” Swinging the torch in front of him like a weapon, he holds her back from getting any closer, because if she were to get within arm’s reach, he’d have to take hold of her and pull her close and see what those teeth of hers might do. “I haven’t asked you to rescue me a single godsdamned time, but you can’t help yourself, can you?”

She flinches back a step. It’s the first flicker of uncertainty he’s seen from her, and it hits him with a thrill through his soft palate, a heady, addictive liqueur. “What would you have me do?” She spreads her hands open, gesturing to the smoking remnants of the shades that lie at their feet. “Leave you to die?”

“Why not?” He clings to her anger, and it warms him from the inside, spreading through his veins and loosening his stiff limbs. “At least then I’d have died with purpose.”

“Because you’re no use to m— us — them dead!” Shaxibis has never stumbled over her words before, but she stammers over her syllables now, agitation raising the pitch of her voice til it threatens to break. Her eyes shine in the torch light all of a sudden, but she doesn’t reach up to wipe at them, so he cannot be sure that it’s anything threatening to spill from her lashes making them glitter. “Hells, Rolan. Maybe I should have.”

He tightens his fist around the torch. “No,” he grinds out, gritting his teeth and working his jaw as he swallows down what straggling bits of his pride remain. “No, you shouldn’t.”

The lines that bracket her frown deepen, and she turns to go. “Go back to Last Light, Rolan.”

Not “come with me.” Not “I’m sorry.” Not anything he’d hoped to hear, but perhaps what he deserves instead. He sidesteps past her with a sigh, without even a mumbled farewell, and strains his ears for words that never come.

***

Shaxibis does the impossible, all over again.

And Rolan can’t even be angry this time.

He tries his best at putting on a staunchly sour face when he first spies Lakrissa striding through the inn’s front door and Alfira leaping up to bowl her over. Lakrissa is a tough one, used to fighting and surviving, but Cal and Lia? They aren’t fighters so much as stupidly brave, and the chances of them also having made it out of Moonrise alive are—

“Rolan!”

He’s glad he put his tankard on the bar, or else he might have dropped it and spilled a perfectly good drink. “Lia?”

There. Here. They’ve returned, almost no worse for the wear, and as the both of them rush to the back of the tavern room amidst the shouts of the others freed from the cultists’ dungeons, Rolan has to furiously blink back the heat that springs up in his eyes and blurs their faces. Cal grasps one shoulder as Lia boxes the other, and they both move to embrace him even though he’s left standing in stock-still shock at the reality that they’re here, and alive, and so is he.

“Drinking?” Cal nods at the half-drunk tankard on the bar. “Seems like you’ve had a nice time while we’ve been gone.”

The unbearable tension of near-tears snaps, and Rolan neatly swallows it all back down in mild disgust. “Yes. Of course. I’ve just been relaxing this whole time.”

“That’s not what Shax told us.” Lia boxes him again, this time on the ear. “What were you thinking, going out into the curse alone?”

Rolan splutters. “And leave you two to rot?”

“Heard you had to be scraped up off the ground,” Cal teases, ducking to avoid Rolan’s own gently jabbing fist. “All distressed and needing your own rescue.”

A familiar glimpse of red and white at the fringes returns, and Shaxibis steps full into Rolan’s vision. “He held his own,” she says, too magnanimous by half. There is not a single note of sarcasm in her voice, which is now disarmingly rough-edged and hoarse in a way that only sweetens the sound, lovelier than any song she could sing. “He’d done half the work for us by the time we found him out there.”

His ears burn at the sight of her utterly guileless smile. “You’re being too generous,” he mumbles. “I was… not my best.”

“Not your best?” Lia rounds on him, all fire and frustration. “Hells, Rolan, have you even thanked her yet?”

There is nothing he could do or say to adequately thank Shaxibis, ever, but he does the best he can in the only way he knows how at the moment. Fishing in his pockets, he draws out a small pouch heavy with coin. “Here.”

Her eyes go round, along with her mouth, as she weighs the coin purse in her hands; he can see the numbers running through her mind, along with countless other words and questions that he both does and does not want to hear right now, when faced with such a rare sight as her utterly disarmed expression. “Hells,” she breathes. “That’s… a lot of thanks.”

It’s not how he properly wants to thank her, but that vision - his hand cupping her cheek, perhaps, and hers resting on his chest as she leans up on her toes - sets him back on edge, and he bristles. “I could always take it back.”

She swiftly presses the purse to her middle, cupping her other hand over it protectively. “Don’t you dare. You’ll just drink yourself to death with this much coin.”

Just like that, they’re back on familiar ground: she, the bard with a joke for every moment, no matter how inappropriate, and he, long-suffering at the hands of her humor, groaning to cover up the chuckle that threatens to break free from the back of his throat. They may as well be the only two people in this room, and the thought is both thrilling and discomfiting. “Don’t worry. I’ve still plenty of coin to buy myself another round or two.”

Shaxibis tucks the purse into some pocket hidden by the gold-edged lapel of her laughably gaudy jerkin, then leans one elbow on the bar. “Enough to buy a drink for me, too?”

Rolan picks up his tankard, steadfastly ignoring the look that passes between Cal and Lia in his periphery. “I’ve already thanked you once." He takes a drink and raises a brow. "Don’t be greedy.”

She laughs; a balm to his bruised ego. "Fine," she says, drawing out a gold piece from another purse at her hip. "The next one's on me."

#bg3 #shaxibis #bg3 rolan #rolanweek #rolan x tav #holy rolan empire #thundersong #my writing

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honey-minded-hivemind · 3 months ago

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Okay, so, my original platonic yandere ocs' world/story is set in the land of Gaea, a world that is full of humans and the dragons. There are many kinds of dragons, as numerous as there are types of dinosaurs from our world, or birds, or fish. Dragons are ancient beings, some older than the first human to breathe, some older than even that. There are different forms of them, but all ruled by a leader of each kind, a lord or lady or regional monarch, then all of dragonkind under the rule of the Greatest of Dragons, They-Of-The-Rising-Sun, Born-From-The-Mother-Star, Elder-Kin, Caelistis... They are the largest, the oldest, and the first dragon, born of the tear of the Mother Goddess/Deity, Lux. From them comes every other dragon and dragon species, of which there are many.

There are the Wyverns, large and intimidating, with no arms, instead, wings, and having two feet. Their tails are thick, to help them balance, and end with sharp tips, some shaped like spades, others triangles, sometimes even diamonds or discs or clubs... They usually breathe fire or smoke, and tend to be in darker shades of the natural world, such as green of the forests or browns of the rocks, even the autumn reds and yellows of the clays or the blacks of the obsidian rock...

There are the Quetzals, snake-like and cunning, with only feathered wings and a long, coiling tail. They can spew venom or a poisonous mist, are covered partially or all the way in feathers, and their scales are softer than other dragon species. Their scales tend to be bright green, orange, or yellow, with feathers in all the various colors of the world...

There are the Wyrms, lithe and agile, with four thin wings and many legs and pincer-like jaws. They have hard, chitin-like scales, eyes that come in threes, fives, or eights, and sometimes with stingers on their tails or for claws. Their scales range from sunny golds and scarlet reds to acid greens and oily blacks, with some species even having dusky indigos or soft tangerines mixed in...

There are the Hydrans, smart and quick-witted, with two or four legs, no wings, and a serpentine body. They have antlers, soft manes of fur, and live near water. Their scales are like jewels, in ruby reds and and amber gold and spinel pink and jade green...

There are the Serpens, strong and stubborn, with four legs and two wings. They can breathe fire or ice or mist, have sharp claws and fangs, and can see in the dark. Their scales tend to be dark, in shades of midnight blue or twilight purple or dusky green or inky black, sometimes in bark browns or cloudy grays...

There are many, many other species and subspecies and hybrids and the like, but these are the main dragons known to mankind...

Some of the ocs include:

Scott Maxwell, a.k.a. platonic yandere older brother-like figure, a strong athletic sort who is also a leader, and who looks out for his friends (is a descendant or son of a Wyvern, was born as a human, is a dragon, and is 17 years old in human years, only a hatchling in dragon years)

Rose Dogwood, a.k.a. platonic yandere best friend/sister-like figure, a smart girl with pale hair who stands up for others and tries to learn what she can about her friends and dragons and magic (is a descendant or daughter of a Quetzal, was born as a human, is 16 years old in human years, only a hatchling in dragon years)

Michael Kiertz, a.k.a. platonic yandere best friend/brother-like figure, a funny boy who cracks jokes and likes trying new things, as well as being there for his friends to cheer them up or watch their backs (is a descendant or son of a Wyrm, is 16 years old in human years, only a hatchling in dragon years)

Manami Maris, a.k.a. platonic yandere older sister-like figure, who likes swimming and finding new places and wildlife, and who respects nature and feels the instinct to keep her hatchmates safe (is a descendant or daughter of a Hydran, is 17 years old, is only a hatchling in dragon years)

Caelistis, a.k.a. Great-Great-Great-Many-Greats-Grandparent/Parent/Caretaker of All Dragons, who would rather adopt the teens than silence them or destroy them, does not care much for humans, has watched too much destruction amd savagery happen because of them...

James Lowett/Unguis, a.k.a. an adult dragon who helps the teens out, but secretly wants them to lose amd be brought to the home of the dragons, is a bit gruff and sly, but has a good heart...

Vespidae, a.k.a. insect dragon queen/lady/ruler who wants to put the teens into her hive's hatchery/nursery, and would happily hypnotize them to turn against humans...

The four teens + Reader-insert/main character have to try and save the dragons while also stopping them from wiping out the humans... They have lots of adventuring and peace-makinh to do, and not a lot of time before The Great Migration, when dragons gather in the hundreds of thousands to meet with Caelistis, for a reason unknown to man, but which the teens hope to discover so to help them stop them from ending the humans and changing the world to how they see fit...

This is what I have for now. Woo. Took me awhile. But yeep. Dragons be upon ye!

@sugar-soda @thewickedweiner @hermesserpent-stuff @vivid-bun @danniloversugar

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere ocs #yandere platonic ocs #honeycomb platonic yan ocs #honeycomb platonic yandere ocs

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canis-latransbian · 5 months ago

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best rule of thumb for anything that could cause you legal trouble is DON'T BRING YOUR GODDAMN PHONE. If this person had left their phone at a hotel/friend's house/bus locker they could've passed this off as a toad trip, but being at the clinic is pretty damning for their case.

this goes double for any protests or civil disobedience because the cops will be ready with Stingray Surveillance to hoover up phone info of anyone who gets too close.

anyway yeah DELETE YOUR FUCKING ADVERTISING IDS

Android:

Settings ➡️ Google ➡️ all services ➡️ Ads ➡️ Delete advertising ID

(may differ slightly depending on android version and manufacturer firmware. you can't just search settings for "advertising ID" of course 🔪)

iOS:

Settings ➡️ privacy ➡️ tracking ➡️ toggle "allow apps to request to track" to OFF

and ALSO settings ➡️ privacy ➡️ Apple advertising ➡️ toggle "personalized ads" to OFF

more details about the process here via the EFF

#'Siri is spying on me lol'#YES!#Just not in the ways you think it is #Lux barks

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psyphigirl · 10 months ago

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How to play Caravan (New Vegas)

While I was tryin to learn how to play Caravan I saw loads of guides were just explaining the win conditions and not the actual rules or controls. So this post'll explain everything about caravan from top to bottom. (The only reason to play Caravan is for the two achievements, win three times and win thirty times; I don't find it very fun, not the fastest way of making money, and has no bearing on any plot.)

Getting the Cards

The only way to get the Caravan Deck is from Ringo after completing Ghost Town Gunfight (or looting it off his body). You don't need this, but it gives you the minimum number of cards you need to play. If you don't take it you'll have to manually find enough cards for Caravan to be available for you You can get cards from vendors and merchants (~two caps per). Keep an eye out for 6's, 8's, 10's, and Kings (The strat I'll describe needs those cards). You can have multiple copies of the same card (i.e. more than one 6 of Spades)

I got the most cards from Lacey (the bartender) at the Mojave Outpost (anywhere from three to eight). Buy the cards you need and wait three days for her to restock. There's a semi-rare bug where she'll sell two of the exact same card (i.e. two Ultra Luxe 8 of Hearts): Buying both'll crash the game

Sierra Madre Cards

If you have Dead Money installed you can find additional cards for Caravan in and around the Sierra Madre. Below is all the cards you can find and where they are:

8 of Clubs - Sierra Madre Casino & Resort (Cantina Madrid): On the floor in front of a file cabinet to the right of the Cafe Madrid terminal and restaurant manager desk. King of Clubs - Medical District: Inside a 2nd floor room with an active electric hot plate, north of the Villa clinic and above a ground level cafe sign directly west across a courtyard from the room containing the 6 of Diamonds, on a round table in the northeast corner. 6 of Diamonds - Medical District: Inside a 2nd floor room northeast of the Villa clinic and directly east across a courtyard from the room containing the King of Clubs, on a wooden shelf in the southwest corner behind an orange chair. 10 of Hearts - Villa: Some distance north of the Villa police station and west of the room containing the 5 of Hearts, on the interior corner of a walkway to the southeast of a wall fountain. Going from the 5 of Hearts, out the door with a wall fountain, down the stairs, in the corner of the interior walkway on the left. 6 of Spades - Salida del Sol North: In the northwest corner of a small courtyard with three bear traps and a dead tree, on the ground between a wall and three pipes, just west of the stairs leading to a room containing Dean's Secret Stash, a radio and two pool tables. 8 of Spades - Villa police station: In the northwest corner of the cell Dog is located in.

Who can I play with?

You're never explicitly told who you can play with, you just have to ask around. Here's the full list; Limited: You can only play with them five times and then never again Restricted: You have to have good rep with their faction to play

Cliff Briscoe - Dino Bite gift shop - Limited Dale Barton - The Fort - Restricted Dennis Crocker - NCR Embassy Isaac - Gun Runners Jake Erwin - NCR Embassy Johnson Nash - Primm - Limited Jules - North Vegas Square Keith - Aerotech suite Lacey - Mojave Outpost - Limited Little Buster - Camp McCarran Q.Master Mayes - Camp Forlorn Hope - Limited - Restricted No-bark Noonan - Novac Ringo - Goodsprings/Crimson Caravan Camp Jed Masterson - Northern passage - Only available with Honest Hearts

Johnson Nash uses more face cards than other players which can break the strat I'll describe later. No-bark Noonan is the easiest to play against

Building your Deck

After offering to play with someone, and after setting your bet, you'll be shown two long rows of cards. The top row is the deck you'll play with in the game, the bottom row is the cards you won't be using

Use your arrow keys to move left and right, pressing W to add a card to your deck and A to remove it. Only select your 6's, 8's, 10's, and Kings. If you don't have enough of these to reach the 30 card minimum, add some Jacks or Queens. After that press F to play

The Controls

The descriptors of the controls listed along the bottom right can be a little vague or misleading, here's a better explanation;

Arrow keys to highlight a card in your available hand (these will be the cards revealed to you in a fan) W to select a card Q to discard a card (counts as a full turn) If you select a card and want to deselect it, press R. With no card selected, R is the forfeit button E lets you completely discard a caravan you've built

When you select a card it will move to the left side of the screen. This is where the game is played. Use the arrow keys to place your selected card in one of the six sections available (these are the caravans)

Number Cards and Face Cards

Ace - Value of 1 Number Cards - Value of 2-10

You can play face cards on your caravans or your opponents caravans, and they can do the same to you

Jack - When played on an Ace/Number Card, removes that card along with any card attached to it Queen - When played on an Ace/Number Card, supposedly reverses the direction of hand and changes suit of the hand. I'm not sure if it's just my game being buggy or if I'm using them wrong, but Queen cards don't seem to do anything for me. I use Queens as null cards: Just something to fill up my deck. If you know what they actually do I'll add a proper explanation here. King - When played on an Ace/Number card, doubles the value of that card. Multiple Kings can be attached to the same card Joker - When played on an Ace, removes all other non-face cards of the ace's suit from the table (except that card) When played on a Number Card, removes all other cards of that value from the table (except that card) You can place multiple Jokers on the same card to remove any card of that suit/value placed after you placed your initial Joker

Playing Caravan (6 8 10 K Strat)

This isn't a strategy I invented, I found it online. But I only every found it in posts that assumed I knew how to play already. So I wanted to put it here alongside a tutorial Also, just as a rule of measure for how weird this game is, we're only now getting to how to actually play the game ...

You're aiming to have the values of the bottom three card piles (your caravans) be higher than their matching top three values (your opponents caravans), while keeping your values between twenty and twenty-six (values outside of this are invalid).

You might notice that you can't place a card on a caravan that already has a card in it. This might be for a few reasons;

There's a difference between attaching a card to another, and stacking a card on top of another: Press the up and down keys to move along the various heights of a caravan. Face cards can only be attached, number cards can only be stacked

You can't place two number cards of the same value in the same caravan. But you can place as many of the same face card as you want in the same caravan

Place a 10 and a 6, or a 10 and an 8 in each caravan, attach a King to the 10 in 10/6 caravans, or to the 8 in 10/8 caravans. These will each bring your value up to 26. If you don't have any of the cards you need, discard something you don't want (like a Queen if you have any in your deck and are using them as null cards). It's worth having a handful of Jacks in your deck to use against your opponent

Beating No-Bark

I'm not certain, but I think No-Bark's deck has no 2's, Queens, or Jokers. He only has three to four Jacks, and two to three Kings. After you've placed your initial card in each of your caravans he'll use a Jack against you one or two times. Rarely three, very rarely none. After your first few moves he's very unlikely to use Jacks again. I only saw him using a king against three times out of thirty-five games. Sometimes he deliberately busts his caravans. I have no idea why he does this

The strat I use against him is to place 6's and 8's as my first card in each caravan, then replace any cards he removes. It's only after three to five moves that I actually start building my caravans. Unless he's particular nasty with his Jacks, or you're particularly unlucky with whichever cards you draw, you should be able to get to 26 in each of your caravans immediately. If not, don't forget to Jack or King any caravan of his that reaches 20

Conclusion

Caravan sucks

If I missed something or didn't explain something right I'll make edits

Peace and love

#berrytalks #fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #fonv #caravan

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sleekervae · 3 months ago

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Wicked Games ❅ 17

Masterlist

A/N: Woo! Last post of 2024!

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x socialite!fem!reader

Summary: the bad thing

Warnings: murder, poisoning, manipulation, spoilers for tbosas, allusions to sex

Word Count: 5,357

Sable sat alone in the dimly lit room, the soft glow of the city outside of the penthouse casting shadows across her face. Her mind churned with conflicting emotions, the weight of what she had done pressing down on her chest. There was a strange, unsettling calm in knowing the threat was gone, but the guilt gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. Shouldn’t she feel more remorse, more fear? But what lingered most was an odd, intoxicating sense of peace.

She stared at her hands, recalling the moment she had switched the glasses, the ease with which Luxe had taken that final sip. Sable should have been horrified, but instead, she felt… strong.

The quiet was shattered by the slam of the door. Coriolanus stormed in, his face a storm of anger and frustration. The fallout from the debate still burned behind his eyes, his jaw clenched tight.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded, his voice taut with fury. “Where were you? Do you have any idea what kind of disaster that was?”

Sable lifted her gaze slowly to meet his, her mind still reeling from her own actions. His rage, though justified, barely registered in the shadow of her own dark thoughts. The debate, his anger—everything seemed so far away now.

Coriolanus paced the room, his voice rising with every step. “Barbary dragged my name through the dirt, brought up Lucy Gray, and I had nothing to defend myself with. I needed you there, Sable!”

His words cut through her fog, pulling her back into the present. She blinked, her heart pounding as her mind scrambled to respond. But what could she say? How could she explain where she had been, what she had done?

Coriolanus stopped pacing and turned to Sable, his eyes narrowing as he took in her silence. His patience, already worn thin, was now cracking. "Sable!" he barked, voice sharp with frustration. "Why are you just sitting there? Say something!"

Sable swallowed hard, her throat dry as her thoughts swirled. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

Coriolanus took a step closer, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You're quiet now? After everything that just happened?" He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his eyes blazing. "Do you have any idea what this could cost me? Everything we’ve worked for is falling apart, and you—" He stopped himself, fists clenching. "Where the hell were you?"

Still, Sable said nothing. The words were trapped in her throat, tangled with the guilt and the strange, intoxicating power that still hummed under her skin. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, but couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Coriolanus’ face twisted in disbelief, the silence only stoking his fury. "This isn’t like you. You’re never this quiet. What happened, Sable?!" His voice rose, demanding an answer, but all she could do was stare at him, stunned and unable to break free from the weight of what she'd done.

For a moment, his anger faltered as he saw the look in her eyes, something he hadn’t seen before—fear, perhaps, or something darker. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone quieter now, though still tinged with frustration. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Sable swallowed again, finally finding her voice, though it was barely above a whisper. "I…I can’t talk about it," she managed, her heart pounding in her chest.

Coriolanus’ eyes darkened, his patience gone. "Can't talk about it? Can’t talk about it?!" He slammed his fist on the table, making Sable flinch, "Sable, you don’t get to check out on me now. Not when everything is crumbling. You owe me an explanation!" His voice dropped lower, more dangerous. "What did you do?"

Sable took a deep breath, her gaze still fixed on the floor. The silence between them stretched, thick with tension. She could feel Coriolanus's eyes burning into her, waiting, demanding something. Finally, she looked up, her expression unreadable.

"I killed Luxe," she said softly, her voice steady, but eerily calm.

Coriolanus froze. For a moment, it seemed like he hadn't heard her correctly. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What?" His voice was low, disbelieving, as if the words didn’t make sense.

Sable held his gaze, unflinching now. "Luxe Hennity," she repeated, almost mechanically. "She's dead. I killed her."

The color drained from Coriolanus’s face. His breath caught in his throat as the gravity of her words sank in. He stared at her, speechless, unable to process what he’d just heard. It was as though the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a vacuum of shock and disbelief.

"You…killed her?" His voice was barely audible, a whisper of horror and confusion. "Wha -- why?"

Sable nodded slowly, her calm demeanor unnerving. "She knew we were a hoax, she was blackmailing me for money. So I… took care of it..."

For the first time, Coriolanus was at a loss for words. His mind raced, trying to reconcile the woman standing before him with the one he thought he knew. Sable, always poised, always crafty—but this? This was something else. Something darker.

"You… you killed Luxe?" he repeated, his voice cracking as he tried to make sense of it. "Just like that?"

Sable didn't flinch. "Just like that," she whispered, her voice devoid of any remorse.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Coriolanus could feel the world spinning out of control, everything unraveling faster than he could hold it together. He had prepared for political battles, for public scandals, but this… He never imagined this. His mind flickered to the consequences, the fallout—how could they possibly recover from this?

He stared at Sable, disbelief etched on his face. This wasn’t her style; she was measured, careful, and yet here she was, admitting to murder with a calm that sent shivers down his spine. “Sable…” he began, his voice shaky.

Her hands fidgeted nervously, twisting the fabric of her skirt as if she were trying to pull herself back to reality. Without thinking, he reached out, placing his hands over hers, stilling their restless movement. “What happened?” he asked, his voice a mix of concern and confusion.

She met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. “I... I poisoned her wine. She never saw it coming...”

Luxe nodded, a polite but distracted smile on her lips as she stepped outside the bar. The crisp night air hit her face as she walked down the street, but she didn’t make it very far. A sudden wave of nausea washed over her, causing her to stagger. She placed a hand on a nearby lamppost to steady herself, but the feeling only grew worse.

Her vision blurred, and she struggled to take a deep breath.She clutched at her chest, but her hands were shaking uncontrollably. The street was eerily empty, the usual bustle of the city seeming miles away. Luxe's legs gave out, and she crumpled to the pavement, her heart racing with fear.

Desperation clawed at her as she tried to cry out for help, but no sound escaped her lips. Her body began to convulse violently, and she could feel the life draining from her with each passing second. The realization hit her with brutal clarity: she was dying, and there was no one around to save her.

The darkness closing in was momentarily pierced by the silhouette of someone standing over her. Luxe’s hazy eyes focused with agonizing effort on the figure above her, and she felt a jolt of recognition mixed with terror.

There, standing with an unsettling calmness, was Sable. Her face was illuminated by the distant streetlights, casting a cold, indifferent glow on her features. Luxe’s eyes widened in shock, the realization dawning on her with a cruel finality. Sable looked down at her with a smirk, her expression a mix of satisfaction and contempt.

Luxe’s mind raced back to the bar, where she had bent down to retrieve Sable’s bag. Sable has used the opportunity, pouring a vial of poison into Luxe's glass before she could get back up. Luxe’s heart sank as the full extent of her demise hit her.

The irony of Sable’s calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the agony Luxe felt. Her convulsions grew more violent as she tried to muster the strength to speak, but her voice was nothing more than a strangled whisper. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear and fury, unable to comprehend the depth of Sable’s ruthlessness.

As her vision dimmed once more, Luxe's mind fixated on the cold, unfeeling face of her betrayer. The world around her dissolved into a dark haze, her final moments marked by the chilling realization that Sable had orchestrated her end with a calculated ease. The last thing Luxe saw was Sable’s smug expression, a haunting image that would be her final memory before everything faded to black.

Sable watched Luxe’s final moments with a calm detachment, her emotions a complex web of conflicting feelings. As Luxe’s convulsions slowed and her breathing grew shallow, Sable felt an unexpected twinge of something—was it guilt? Sadness? She had crossed a line she never thought she’d cross, and yet the depth of her emotional response was ambiguous.

In the dim light of the street, Sable’s mind replayed the events that had led her here. The ease with which she had slipped the poison into Luxe’s glass, the calculated smile she had maintained—it all seemed like a dark and surreal version of a well-rehearsed play. There was no denying that what she had done was brutal and final. Luxe’s death was not merely the result of a harsh negotiation gone wrong; it was the outcome of a deliberate, cold-blooded decision.

Sable felt a pang of discomfort as she considered the implications of her actions. She knew she should feel remorse, perhaps even a deep sense of sorrow for the life she had ended. Luxe had been a person, after all, with her own fears, dreams, and desires. The realization that she had extinguished that life in a moment of calculated vengeance weighed on her conscience.

Yet, even as the potential for guilt lingered, Sable was also overwhelmed by a surge of power. She had taken control of her situation in a way that few others could. The sense of dominance that accompanied Luxe’s demise was intoxicating, fueling a dark satisfaction within her. She had protected her relationship with Coriolanus and safeguarded her status, all with a single, decisive act.

As she stood over Luxe’s lifeless body, Sable grappled with the paradox of her emotions. The power she wielded felt both exhilarating and unsettling. The line she had crossed was unmistakably clear, but it had also fortified her resolve. She was no longer merely a player in the political game; she had become an architect of its most ruthless outcomes.

The power to shape her world had come at a price, and while Sable felt a fleeting sense of remorse, it was overshadowed by the potency of her newfound control. She had learned that her own moral boundaries were malleable, that she could both wield power and wrestle with the darkness within her...

“You killed her,” he reiterated, his heart racing. The weight of the revelation hung heavy between them. “Why didn’t you come to me? We could have figured something out together.”

“I couldn’t take that risk,” she replied, her tone flat, but he could hear the strain in her voice. “She wouldn’t have stopped. It was either her or us.”

Coriolanus felt a surge of conflicting emotions—anger, fear, and an unsettling admiration for her resolve. “You really crossed a line, Sable. This isn’t just about us anymore. You could have destroyed everything we’ve worked for.”

“I know,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I did what I had to do.”

His grip on her hands tightened instinctively. “You’re saying this like it’s easy, like it didn’t mean anything. But it does. It means everything.”

Sable searched his eyes, a flicker of uncertainty passing over her features. “I didn’t want to feel weak. I didn’t want to lose you or let anyone else dictate our fate.”

Coriolanus’s heart raced, the tension in the air thickening as he searched Sable’s face for answers. “What did you do with Luxe’s body?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with urgency.

Sable's expression darkened, her bravado faltering for a moment. “I... I had to dispose of her,” she admitted, her voice low. “I couldn’t leave any trace.”

He stared at her, a mix of disbelief and concern flooding his mind. “How? You can’t just… vanish someone like that.” a shudder when through him then, remembering Barbery's accusation so clearly. Because Coriolanus knew that someone could vanish into thin air, he knew all too well.

Sable stood up, she began to pace around the room. The clicking of her heels against the hardwood was a chilling sound that echoed in the silence, amplifying the tension between them. “I dragged her body into an old fallout shelter,” Sable said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. “It’s one of those relics from the rebellion—hidden away, forgotten by most.”

Coriolanus felt a chill run down his spine, taking her place in the chair. “You knew where to find it?”

She nodded, her gaze fixed on a distant point as memories flooded back. “After my family moved to the Capitol, my sister and I used to explore the streets when I had free time. We stumbled upon it one day. Just happens to sit a few feet away from the lounge, it's covered in debris and practically invisible. Perfect for hiding... anything,”

“Perfect, indeed,” he murmured, his mind racing with implications. “But how did you manage to get her there without being seen?”

“Everyone was watching the debate inside, I just... dragged her in. I covered the entrance with some old crates I found nearby. No one would think to look there.” Sable’s voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of anxiety in her eyes.

Coriolanus shook his head in disbelief. “You thought this through.”

“I had to,” Sable said, her voice firming. “You had too much on your plate, I can handle myself,”

He watched her closely, trying to process the enormity of what she had done. “But this isn’t just about us anymore. This could have serious repercussions if anyone finds out--”

“I know,” she replied, her tone softening. “But I’m not afraid. Not anymore. I won’t let anyone threaten what we have. I did what needed to be done.”

Coriolanus felt a mix of admiration and fear. Sable had taken a path he never would have imagined for her, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but feel a growing connection. They were entangled in something dark and dangerous, but it was theirs.

“Alright,” he said, his voice steadying. “We need to figure out our next steps. We have to stay ahead of any potential fallout.”

As he spoke, Sable felt the gravity of their situation settle over them, a palpable weight in the air. The room was thick with unspoken fears and uncertainties, but within that darkness, a flicker of determination ignited in her. She knew they had to act quickly to regain control.

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Sable shifted her focus, trying to ground herself amidst the chaos. “What happened at the debate?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Coriolanus hesitated, the weight of the debate pressing down on him like a heavy fog. “Where do I even start?” he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Barbery went for the throat. He brought up Lucy, and I wasn’t prepared for it. I fumbled my way through, but the audience could see I was struggling.”

Sable’s expression shifted to concern. “Your tribute? Why would he go there?”

“Because he knows it’s a sensitive spot,” Coriolanus replied, his voice tight. “He was trying to shake my confidence, and it worked. The more I stumbled, the more the audience wavered in their trust. I could feel their eyes turning on me, questioning everything.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with defeat. The realization washed over him—he had lost the election before it even began. The fire that once fueled his ambition dimmed, replaced by a gnawing sense of helplessness.

Sable bit her lip, feeling a mix of sympathy and understanding flooding her. “You’re not alone in this, you know. We can strategize, figure out how to turn it back in your favor.”

Coriolanus shook his head slowly, the weight of his failure pressing down on him. “It’s not that simple. I’ve given them ammunition, and they’re ready to use it. What you did to Luxe is nothing compared to what Barbery will unleash.”

She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Then let’s come up with a plan. You’re not just going to roll over and accept this. We can turn it around.”

He looked into her eyes, searching for a spark of the resilience he admired. But all he saw was the reflection of their shared darkness, and it both terrified and connected them in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“No,” he shook his head, his frustration boiling over. “This was the last debate, Sable. The polls are cast in a week, my numbers are already plummeting. I've lost.”

Sable’s grip tightened on his arm, her determination shining through the haze of despair. “So what? You're just going to give up? You’re still Coriolanus Snow. You can pivot, adapt. You’ve always been good at that!”

“Adapt to what? To being the candidate who couldn’t answer why a woman vanished? I’m a joke now, and everyone knows it. The moment they start talking about Lucy Gray Baird again, I’m done for.” His voice cracked under the weight of his anxiety. “And as it turns out, I just found out my accomplice has poisoned a woman and left her at the bottom of a fallout shelter!” He looked away, unable to face the reality looming over them.

Sable felt a pang of guilt at his words, realizing how much she had inadvertently added to his turmoil. She crouched to his level, her voice low and steady. “You’re not a joke. You’re more than that. We’ve faced worse together. Just think about how we can turn this into a strength. You can spin this narrative—show them that you’ve grown, that you’re not defined by one mistake.”

Coriolanus met her gaze, and for the first time, he saw a flicker of hope in her eyes, igniting a flame within him. “What do you suggest?”

Sable hesitated, her heart racing. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted, feeling the weight of her actions pressing down on her. “I don't know..."

She wandered over to the window, her gaze lost in the chaos of the city outside. The weight of their conversation lingered, but her thoughts drifted to Lucy Gray Baird. What had happened to her? Her name echoed in her mind, a decimating anchor, a haunting reminder of the unanswered questions that still lingered.

"What really happened to her?” she said quietly, turning back to face Coriolanus. “Lucy? What happened after those games?”

Coriolanus hesitated, a tension knotting in his chest. He had never fully revealed everything about Lucy Gray Baird—the decisions he’d made, the paths he’d chosen in the aftermath of the 10th Hunger Games. He had buried those memories deep, not wanting to revisit the choices that haunted him. But even now, even despite his best efforts to clean up his image, Lucy would continue to follow him.

“I wish I could give you a clear answer,” he finally said, his voice low. “After the games, things got… complicated. I was reckless, trying to protect myself while feeling the weight of what I’d witnessed; what I'd done. Lucy was special; she had a spark that drew people in, but the Capitol doesn’t spare those who stand out.”

Sable stepped closer, her eyes searching his. “You told me you killed three or four people. Was she the fourth?”

Coriolanus's heart raced at her question, the memories flooding back—chaotic moments filled with fear, desperation, and choices that haunted him. “Lucy didn’t just get away,” he replied, his voice heavy with regret. “She vanished. I wanted to silence her, I admit it. But I never could've predicted...” he chuckled bitterly, "She was clever, I'll give her that," he began to roll up his shirt sleeve, pulling up the fabric to reveal four reddened scars, long-faded now in even indents.

Sable’s brow furrowed. “Rats?"

"A snake," Coriolanus said, his voice tightening, "She also knew how to send a message,"

Sable’s eyes widened as she took in the scars, each one a testament to a moment of vulnerability and a decision that had changed everything. She backed away slowly, taking a seat across from him, her posture shifting from concern to determination. “Tell me the whole story. I want to understand—everything you went through. Everything you did,”

Coriolanus felt the weight of her words, and he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer. He stood and walked over to the cabinet, retrieving a bottle of scotch.

“I think we could both use a drink,” he said, pouring two glasses. The rich aroma filled the air, a blend of oak and smoke that seemed to promise comfort. Sable watched him closely, her expression a mix of anticipation and concern, the weight of his past heavy in the silence between them. When he handed her a glass, their fingers brushed—a fleeting connection that sent a shiver through her.

Settling back into his chair, Coriolanus began to recount the harrowing story of the tenth Hunger Games. His voice was low and steady, but Sable could sense the undercurrent of pain as he spoke of Lucy Gray Baird, the girl who had captivated the Capitol with her talent and spirit. He described her kindness, the way she tried to protect her partner in the arena, and how, despite the odds, she had fought to survive. As he painted the picture of their shared moments, Sable leaned forward, her heart racing. Each detail pulled her deeper into the past, the tension between them palpable.

Coriolanus spoke of the manipulation and betrayal that had surrounded them, the way he had been forced to choose between protecting Lucy or preserving his own future. The weight of his actions hung heavy in the air as he admitted his intent to do her harm. Sable’s brow furrowed, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass absently, feeling the coolness against her skin. She sipped the scotch slowly, allowing the warmth to spread through her, grounding herself in the present even as the weight of his story threatened to pull her under.

As he detailed how Lucy had vanished -- leaving him with her scarf and the poisonous snake in the dead of the forest -- Sable felt a pang of sympathy mixed with determination. She could see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, a side of him she was slowly beginning to peel back.

Coriolanus felt a wave of dread wash over him as he finished his story, the weight of his confessions hanging in the air like a thick fog. He watched Sable’s face closely, searching for any hint of horror or disgust. Surely, after hearing what he had done, she must be appalled. This was the reality he had never wanted to share, the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of his carefully constructed persona. The thought of losing her to the weight of his past felt unbearable, like a crack forming in the foundation of everything they had built.

He braced himself for her reaction, convinced that this would be the moment she recoiled from him, that the distance between them would grow insurmountable. Yet, as he studied her, he noticed something else—an intensity in her gaze that suggested she was grappling with something profound.

Meanwhile, Sable was in turmoil. As she absorbed Coriolanus’s story, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had crossed a line herself. In a twisted way, she had brought herself to his level of brutality, her own actions echoing the choices he had made. The realization felt like a jolt of electricity, igniting a mix of fear and exhilaration within her. She had acted decisively, ruthlessly even, in a way she never thought she was capable of.

She caught Coriolanus’s eye, and in that moment, they were both suspended in a shared silence, aware that they were irrevocably changed. Sable felt an unsettling thrill at the thought that they were both entwined in this darkness, that their paths had converged in ways that felt both dangerous and oddly empowering. It was a realization that left her breathless, but it also filled her with uncertainty.

What did this mean for them? Would Coriolanus view her as an ally, or would he see her as a reflection of his own past—a past that haunted him, that he desperately wanted to escape? The tension in the room shifted, thickening with the weight of unspoken possibilities. Sable wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap of uncertainty between them, but she hesitated, caught between the gravity of her own actions and the potential for something darker yet more intimate to blossom.

Coriolanus’s thoughts churned with a mix of admiration and apprehension. He had always been drawn to Sable's strength, her resolve. But this? This was something new, something that felt like it could either draw them closer or tear them apart. He had never expected to find camaraderie in such violence, yet here they were—two souls marked by choices that could irrevocably bind them together.

As the silence lingered, Sable shifted in her seat, the tension palpable between them. Coriolanus’s gaze remained fixed on her, searching for some sign of her thoughts. She looked as if she were wrestling with her own demons, her expression a mixture of resolve and uncertainty.

Finally, Sable broke the stillness. “What you did—what we did… it’s a part of who we are, but it doesn’t have to define us.” Her voice was steady, though a hint of vulnerability slipped through. “You survived. You made choices that were necessary for your own survival, just like I did.”

Coriolanus considered her words, the truth in them resonating deeply. “But at what cost? Every decision I made came with blood on my hands. I can’t simply wash that away.” He gestured to the scars on his arm, as if they were a map of his transgressions. “Everyday I wake I'm haunted by the one person I want to forget most. I didn’t just survive; I became something monstrous.”

Sable leaned forward, her eyes intense. “You’re not a monster, Coriolanus. You were a boy, caught in a system that demanded sacrifice. I know what it’s like to feel powerless, to have your choices stripped away. But we have the power to change things now. Together.”

Her words ignited something within him, a flicker of hope amid the despair. “And how do you think we ought to go about that?” he asked, the weight of that word heavy as the shadows of doubt crept back in. “I’ve screwed my chances at the election. So long as Lucy Gray is out there, I have nothing.”

“But she’s not here, Corio,” Sable said, her tone steady but softening as she reached for his hands. Their fingers intertwined, and he felt an electric spark at the contact. “She’s not real anymore, and she can’t touch you. I’m here; I’m real. I’m here for you no matter what.”

Coriolanus met her gaze, the warmth of her grip grounding him. There was a depth in her eyes that held both compassion and strength, and in that moment, he felt a connection that transcended their shared darkness. “You don’t understand the risks, Sable. This could ruin you.”

“Then let it ruin me,” she replied fiercely, her voice unwavering. “I’d rather be ruined alongside you than stand on the sidelines, watching you suffer alone. We’ve both done terrible things to so, so many people. Why not embrace it together?”

Her words hung in the air, filled with an intensity that made his heart race. There was something undeniably intimate about the way she held his gaze, as if they were the only two people in a world that had grown chaotic around them.

Coriolanus felt a rush of emotions—fear, admiration, and an unexpected warmth that settled in his chest. “You really mean that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I do,” Sable said, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. “We’re in this together. You’re not alone anymore.”

As they sat there, hands clasped, a sense of vulnerability washed over them both. The shadows of their past loomed large, but in that shared moment, a flicker of something new emerged. There was a bond forming, one that went beyond their ambitions and fears—a connection born from trust and understanding.

Coriolanus leaned slightly closer, drawn in by her fierce resolve and the tenderness in her touch. “You know what you're getting into,” he said, though his voice held a hint of a smile.

“Of course,” Sable replied, her lips curving into a playful grin. “I want to know everything,”

The air between them thickened, the charged energy shifting as they both realized the depth of their feelings. Coriolanus’s heart raced as he studied her face, the way her eyes sparkled with determination, and he found himself mesmerized by her resolve.

He hesitated, battling the urge to close the distance between them. “Don't worry about Luxe,” he said, "I'll make sure she's never found."

Sable’s breath caught for a moment, but there was a strength in her gaze as she absorbed his words. He could see the flicker of trust and something deeper—an understanding that bound them even tighter.

“Good,” she murmured, her voice softening.

“No matter what happens," he continued, "I want you to know—I’ll stand by you, Sable. We’ll face whatever comes next, together.”

Her smile broadened, her eyes clouding with adoration. She felt so many things for him; unease, intrigue, anger and frustration. Overall, she had a great deal of affection for him, so much so, she knew now that would indeed kill for him, "Together,"

In that moment, he could see a future unfolding—one where they fought side by side, where their connection was both a shield and a weapon. The world outside might be dark and unforgiving, but in this shared space, they had found something worth fighting for.

Without thinking, Coriolanus leaned in closer, closing the gap between them. The tension in the room seemed to crackle, an electric current drawing them together. He could feel Sable’s warmth, the steady rhythm of her breath matching the pounding of his heart.

As their eyes locked, he saw the same longing mirrored in her gaze. He leaned in, the world around them fading as he reached for her, capturing the moment. Their lips met in a tentative brush, a question and an answer all at once. It deepened quickly, turning into something fierce and passionate—a promise sealed with the weight of their shared secrets and simmering desires.

Coriolanus deepened the kiss, feeling a rush of emotion as he gently pulled Sable into his lap, her legs on either side of him. The warmth of her body against him ignited a fire within, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer.

As their lips moved together, he couldn't help but explore—his hands trailing along her back, fingers tracing the delicate curve of her spine. Sable responded with a soft sigh, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as if anchoring herself in this moment.

Her body relaxed against him, and he felt her warmth seep into his skin, a perfect blend of trust and desire. He deepened the kiss further, feeling her respond in kind, her lips moving against his with increasing urgency. Sable's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she leaned into him, completely lost in their connection.

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peonierose · 8 months ago

Text

Bite Me

Book: Immortal Desires

Characters involved: Gabriel Adalhard; Cas Harlow

Words: 1570

TW: anxiety, vampires, blood-drinking

A/N: Happens a bit after book 1 of ID ended.

Gabe

I leaned against a tree in the woods.

It’s late I can tell as the sun won’t be up for hours. Ever since I became a vampire I got more sensitive to the sun. Not just because I was more exhausted but because my internal clock was telling me when the sun rose and when the sun sunk. I became pretty attuned to it.

I let out a breath, as the crisp autumn air gives me some relief from my hunger pains.

I haven’t fed in weeks and I refuse to do so. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror. Seeing my eyes turn molten silver, and my fangs protruding from my gums. I try to force it away because it always reminds me what I am and what my grandmother Sara almost turned into. I’m glad she’s not here to see me like this.

What would she think of me? Would she be disgusted? Devastated? I don’t know and I can’t ask her anymore.

I felt around and let the rough bark of the tree, and the dank moss ground me like nothing else can. Except for Naya. She grounds me pretty well, but I didn’t want to overwhelm her right now.

”So this is where the golden boy has run off to. Interesting hiding place. Not as lux as I would have pegged you for.“

Of all the people to turn up…why Cas?

I mean how did he even find me? And why was he even looking for me in the first place?

”I followed the stench of misery. You should think of showering a bit more, you know?“ Cas said and I didn’t even have a response, to be honest.

I sighed as my eyes remained closed and I tried to shut out any noise, with vampire hearing that’s almost impossible, but I still wanted to try and block out anything, Cas‘s voice included. I like him on good days and tolerate him on bad days, but right now I just needed five minutes to myself.

”I’m not hiding. I’m trying to relax, so what do you want?“ I said, too tired to have a confrontation. Whether it’s a verbal or physical one.

I heard some rustling and I opened my eyes, only for Cas to throw me a blood bag which I caught with my left hand.

”Thought you could use a drink. Since you can’t think for yourself. Others have to do it for you. It’s pathetic but someone’s gotta do it.“

I put the blood bag next to me on the ground and didn’t tear into the blood bag immediately.

”You’re welcome, Adalhard.“ Cas says, his expression didn’t give away anything. I always found it hard to read him.

When I didn‘t say anything for a while Cas rolled his eyes that glowed silver in the dim moonlight.

”Next time get your own food.“ Before he can walk away I threw back a question I’ve been meaning to ask him ever since showed up.

”Why do you even care? You never liked me. So why are you being all friendly and shit?“

He didn’t turn around but turned his head slightly so that I’m seeing him in profile.

”Because for some reason you’re being stupid and putting us all at risk by not feeding regularly. I think last time when you almost made mincemeat out of Naya gave you enough of a scare didn’t it? So this time around? Do the right thing.“

Before I can mouth anything he continued.

”Remember back at the caverns? What Naya said? How she doesn’t want to lose you because your morals got in the way of your health? How she won’t let you be that foolish? Remember that little speech?“

I scoffed as Cas’s words. Not wanting to remember that moment, but getting overwhelmed by memories of the past.

”Oh I see this is because you want to keep Naya safe. You don’t need to. I have it under control.“ I balled my fist not wanting to swing out and hit him.

He now fully turned around. His eyes glinted silver in the moonlight as his fangs were on full display.

”Oh I can see how under control you have it. Sitting under a tree in the middle of the night feeling sorry for yourself. Wow, good job Adalhard. You deserve a medal for that. Will bronze do? Or do you strive for gold?“

I breathed through my nose not wanting to take the bait. He was goading me and he has always been good at pushing my buttons.

”I guess I owe you thanks. So thank you seriously.“ I say before I return to sitting under the tree. Watching the moonlight cast shadows.

”You know what? Be a dick if you want. But if you don’t have your blood lust or lack thereof under control, how do you suppose you’re going to help Naya navigate through it, huh?“

He was hitting very close to home. And he knew it.

”What do you want me to say? Oh, I’m sorry I don’t want to drink blood but that’s my life now? Welcome to the party of people who hate being a vampire?“

Cas sighed.

”I get that you didn’t choose this life. But try and see it from Naya’s point of view. She’s scared because she has to lie to her mom and her friends about being a vampire. She has to choose a coven. She’s scared of overdoing it with the blood-drinking. How do you think she feels? She knows your adversity to blood and she still chose you. Sometimes I wonder…“ He doesn’t finish his sentence.

”Oh so that’s how it is. You’re trying to kick me out of the way so she trusts only you and your ways. Maybe even choosing the Venandis. Was this your plan all along?“

And then I went in for the kill.

”Sounds to me like you’re still in love with her.“

Cas kicked a stone out of the way and stared me down.

”Of course I love her. But she chose you and I have to respect that. It’s a crappy choice but it was hers to make. But I’ll be damned if I won’t help her out as a friend, because clearly you don’t have yourself under control.“

I chuckled against all odds.

”Oh I’m happy to amuse you Adalhard. Glad I could be of service.“

I looked up at Cas and for a flicker of a moment I saw a raw vulnerability in Cas’s silver gaze but when I blinked it was gone. As if it was never there. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. I am putting everyone at risk by not feeding regularly.

”You’re right. I’m sorry. I just…it’s hard for me. I sometimes wish I was a normal human being. But I guess I have to live with what I’ve got now and make the best of it.“ This conversation has gotten way deeper than I anticipated.

”Please leave that sappy stuff for Naya. I don’t get paid enough to listen to it.“

”You don’t get paid at all.“ I countered.

He grinned and his fangs glistened.

”Exactly.“

I looked up to the stars and pondered what Cas just said mere seconds ago. About Naya and her transformation.

But before I can help Naya with her feedings, I need to get my house in order first before I can even attempt to help her. I’m glad Cas is here, as much as he’s a pain in my ass, but he’s here when he could turn a blind eye to my problems, he still decided to reach out and help me, and I have to respect that. I guess he’s alright. For a Venandi.

As complicated as his feelings might be for Naya, he put his pride aside and brought me a blood bag to help me. And that takes a lot of guts.

A small smile curved around my lips.

”You’re alright Harlow.“ I said as I drained the blood bag within seconds. Feeling grateful he’s here.

He physically shuddered.

”Not so loud. I have a reputation to uphold.“

”It’s just you, me, and the wild animals in the woods right now. But the animals might hear you speak negatively about them and declare you enemy number one.“

I grinned and my fangs glistened. After I’ve inhaled the blood bag my fangs retracted and my eyes returned to their normal shade of maroon brown.

”Pfft. I’m not scared of some small animal.“

”What about Snow? I heard Snow is the boss around your place.“ I’m referring to Cas‘ cat, whose name is Snow.

”Where did you hear about that? Nobody knows about my cat. How in three hells did you hear about it? And who else knows?“ He asked, his voice dipped lower.

”I have my ways.“ I said vaguely and continue ”I might’ve told Naya about it.“ I grinned.

Cas rubbed a hand over his face and groaned.

”Don’t repeat this to anyone and I won’t share how you need a nightlight on at all times.“

Now I’m speechless.

”How…?“

Now it’s Cas‘s turn to grin.

”I have my ways.“ He repeated my words and we both shared a small smile and just let the night air and sounds of the forest surround us.

Having Cas as company feels good. It just feels good to have a friend. Someone who understands you. Someone who won’t judge you, who will just sit in compatible silence and enjoy the time we have and maybe even become close friends.

#Bite Me #Immortal Desires #Gaberiel Adalhard #Cas Harlow #choicesficwriterscreation

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