#the second half i believe was more emotional focused slipping in the plot holes. but at this point i was so engrossed in the their

[taems-world]

just finished watching flower of evil-

[40sbarnes]

Medici: Spymasters of Florence

Til Death

(extra)

um,,. have this offering,....

pairing; lorenzo x reader <3

1.6k words; this defo has plot holes idrk whats happening with bianca etc, so just read with a grain of salt pls

Spreading the lip paint across your lips, you half expected it to sting. You pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt as though you were playing dress up for a mission once again, as if the reflection staring back at you was just another character. But it wasn’t, for this was your life now.

Your hair was arranged in such a way that the prestigious women you had often tried to mimic would wear their own locks, although no longer were you mimicking, you were. The cream gown sat on your body as if it had been plucked from one of your wildest dreams, and not from a quaint dressmaker in Venice. With a smile you recalled your second visit to the shop, how your betrothed had not held back an ounce of opinion, ensuring that you also spoke up for exactly the dress you desired for your special day. Your mind wandered to the blacksmiths surprise on the same visit, as he was given a healthy lump sum to create the rings that would soon sit on your fingers. Your gaze was drawn to your ring finger now, seeing how the band you had stolen so long ago still sat in its place. It served as an engagement ring you supposed, you couldn’t see yourself without it, and as you slid it off and slipped it into a pocket in your skirts, you vowed silently to replace it as soon as the ceremony was finished.

A gentle rapping at the door echoed throughout the silent room. You stepped back from the mirror with one last glance to cross the room, stopping with your hand around the handle as a thought rose to your mind. “Who is it?”

“Your favourite,” even without his unmistakable voice, you would have recognized the cheek in his tone on your worst day.

“Lorenzo! What if I had answered!” you scolded, your hand falling from the handle to join your other as you crossed your arms across your chest in feign anger.

“Well, I was hoping you would,” the confusion in his voice was clear even with the inches of oak between you both.

“You can’t see me before the ceremony! It��s bad luck,” you informed, not sure how much you believed in it but knowing the both of you didn’t need any more misfortune.

“Never knew you were so superstitious,” he teased, although he respected your wishes, accepting that your conversation would take place with the door remaining between you both.

“You have much to learn about me, Medici,” Lorenzo didn’t need to see your face to hear the grin on your lips.

“And I cannot wait to learn it all, Medici,” your heart sped up at he returned your teasing words.

“Lorenzo!” his mother’s voice floated from outside the door, scorning him. You heard the shuffling of him standing up straight, presumably facing her. “Go! They’re waiting for you downstairs, and you shan’t seen your bride before the ceremony, it’s in bad faith!” Lucrezia pushed her son gently in the right direction, ignoring him as he mumbled something along the lines of ‘so I’ve been told.’

She waited until he was gone from the hall to slip into your room, a wide smile falling across her face as she took in the sight before her, “You look so beautiful.” The corners of her eyes crinkled as she complimented you, and you returned the grin. Although you had been living with the Medici’s for almost two months now, it was only recently you had the fortune of seeing the woman before you truly smile.

“Thank you, Madonna,” you dipped your head slightly, but she caught your shoulder, forcing you back upright. What is it they say about the apple?

“In a matter of moments I’ll be your mother, officially,” she squeezed your shoulder where her hand was, “no need for the formalities, y/n,” her voice was soft. Your mouth fell slightly agape before you nodded in agreement. Her addition of ‘officially’ didn’t go unnoticed by you. You had quickly fallen into the family, in such a tender time they were more than appreciative to have someone to lean on, and in Lucrezia’s eyes no riches could ever repay the way you cared for Lorenzo after the loss of his brother.

The Medici’s, just as the rest of Florence, believed the story that you had been devoted to Lorenzo from the start, and that you had been kidnapped by the Pazzi’s, threatened to go along with their plan. It wasn’t exactly a falsehood, it just simply emitted some of the more dicey facts. There was no rush on your wedding, most of Florence believed you to be already wed, and with funerals, politics and grieving being the core focus at that time, no one was particularly stressed over officialities. But as time passed, Lorenzo had presented the idea of having a proper ceremony and you certainly weren’t opposed.

“Well,” Lucrezia clasped her hands together as she stood away from you, “ready?”

---

To say it was a small gathering would be a gross understatement. It was strictly Medici in its attendance, Lucrezia, Bianca and Father Carlo were stood out in the garden under an arch of rose bush. With fondness, you recalled some of the earlier planning of this day.

“And where? I suppose it would be a tad awkward to do it in the church,” Lorenzo pondered aloud from where he lay across your bed, supporting himself on one elbow. With everyone thinking that this day had already taken place, it proved difficult to make their beliefs true.

Your gaze fell off of Lorenzo and out of the window you sat in. “What about the gardens?” Somehow, they looked even more spectacular as you made your way into the summer months. The flowers appeared brighter, the grass greener.

“A fine venue for a grand wedding,” Lorenzo joked, his eyes surveying the side of your face, “Is there anyone you wish to invite?” the question escaped his lips as soon as it appeared on his mind, he despised the way he lost his smart tongue the minute you two were alone.

You focused your gaze on one of the rose bushes, “No,” you replied simply, hoping to keep any emotion from the answer. There was no one, you had no one. Only Lorenzo.

You looked to him now.

He looked at you as if you were also all he had, but the glint in his eye made it seem as if that weren’t something terrible at all. It wasn’t that you were all he had in this world, it was that you two were the only ones in his.

Goosebumps rose across your bare shoulders, your eyes remaining on his as you carried your skirts over the grass, joining Lorenzo to stand before Father Carlo. His fingers found yours almost instantly, lacing them together in the small space between you both. He only let them go for the exchanging of rings, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight shake of his hand as he slid the band onto your finger. You gave him a grin as you returned the gesture, earning a wide smile in exchange. You didn’t even hear Carlo’s next words as your now-husband cupped your face to pull you into a kiss, and if you had any lingering doubts of Lorenzo’s true intentions for this marriage, they were mercilessly thrown away as you relished in your lips meeting. Your hands had found his own face, and when you eventually pulled away, you stayed holding one another as you both surveyed your new spouse, trying to commit the image before you to memory; if such a thing was possible.

The look he was giving you made your heart swell against your ribcage, giving you the impression that you were holding his own beating heart in your hands instead of his cheeks. The cheers from your small audience almost weren’t enough to remind you that other people existed in that moment, until they turned into displeased gasps. You tore your eyes from your husband to his family, to see Bianca with her hand held out, her eyes on the sky. You followed her gaze to see the grey clouds that had appeared above you, and were beginning to spill down.

“Come along then, before we’re drenched,” Lucrezia glanced back at you as she headed for the house, Bianca and Carlo in tow.

You faced Lorenzo, wondering why he hadn’t moved, to see his gaze still fixed on you. Your hands slipped from his face to grab his own on yours, taking it to your side. “Come on, or do you wish to stare all day?” your tone was far too soft for the jab to hold any weight.

“Since when have you the ability to read minds?” he quirked a brow, although he seemed to be out of his trance now, a grin sat atop his blushed lips.

“Don’t worry, I can only read yours,” your thumb brushed his knuckles as you spoke.

“I suppose I mustn’t tell you how that only worries me further,” the rain was truly beginning to fall now, but neither of you had moved an inch still.

“You mustn’t,” a large raindrop landed on your brow, threatening to fall into your eye, if not for Lorenzo’s gentle fingers wiping it away before it had any chance.

The sky seemed to have little patience for you newlyweds, and opened up without any further hesitance. Lorenzo squeezed your hand before dragging you behind him, both of you breaking into a sprint as the droplets poured onto you. He glanced back as you struggled to gather your skirts, letting a raw chuckle bubble out from his throat, and you were quick to accompany him in his laughter, realizing that maybe running in the rain wasn’t all that bad.

[shortpeople-probs]

SessKag fic

Title: The In-between

Summary: The brevity of mortality insists that there is no lasting impact from one mortal life. That was what Sesshoumaru had always believed. When regarding humans, they were always one of two things. They were either alive or they were dead. He had never considered what happened in-between. 

**Mostly short drabbles containing fluff. Will not be in linear order, there will likely be no plot aside from one stubborn miko unknowingly tearing down one Western Lord's walls**

Tags: Major character death, Sesskag

Additional tags: First chapter is angst, proceedings chapters are fluff

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30432342/chapters/75034917

Chapter 1: Bleeding Sunset

Sesshoumaru descended upon the bloodied and ruined earth with a sense of growing urgency. Maintaining the appearance of dignified impassivity, his boots lightly fell upon the soaked soil, heels sinking in slightly as his golden eyes roved over the scenery.

Kagome's reiki signature had been absent for some time now. It hadn't alarmed him at first when her presence dipped below his senses. In the years since she had begun to accompany him, she had come to enjoy such concealment tactics, developing a preference for the element of surprise and dismaying only when such trickery was used against her.

When her signature had vanished, he was not filled with the annoying sense of urgency that plagued him now. He had trusted her to be safe and well. He had more confidence in her than he had in himself lately. Her abilities proved that she was more than capable of holding her own.

She was his equal, after all.

When he had first lost sense of her, he had also been appeased by the fact that he had prepared armor for her to wear beneath the miko garb she insisted on wearing. He hadn't been worried, and so she had escaped his thoughts as he focused on the enduring battle. But that was then and this was now. The battle had ended long after her signature was submerged beneath the flurry of warring youki and not even a trace of it had emerged even after the enemy youkai had been cut down.

Idle chatter and distant sounds of recovery went relatively unnoticed as he glided through the wet grass and overtop the odd debris. Sesshoumaru had no intentions of staying behind or helping with clean up, but he wouldn't put it past his intended to want to do so.

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes at the thought after it had crossed his mind. Keeping an ear out for the sounds of her harmonic voice or vibrant laughter, he took a moment to assess what he had just thought.

To take his mind off the pressing absence of that woman's voice. Of her presence.

Scowling, he reviewed it yet again. His intended? The woman was more formidable than she realized. Her hold on him was secure and unwavering, much to his discontent.

A wolf youkai bowed at him as he passed. Sesshoumaru did not spare him a glance and fought the urge to wrinkle his nose at the offending scent of wolf. He could not scent Kagome on this youkai and so the male was not worthy of his attentions.

Turning his thoughts away from that nagging absence yet again, Sesshoumaru returned his thoughts to the years that had passed since Kagome had seemingly abandoned her former companions in favor of his company. She had been so willful in asserting that she shared his wanderlust, that she was capable of traveling alongside him. That willful nature of hers pressed against him, causing agitation that prickled at his skin and burrowed in his heart.

The woman did not know it, but she had captivated the inudaiyoukai. His days, which he had been content to spend listlessly, were devoted to her. It riled him, the way this mere woman had melted him down and sculpted him into something new. Something compassionate and attentive. How every moment spent away from her was spent wishing she was at his side.

It irritated him that she did not know her lasting impact on him, but that was his fault. He would rather kill the woman than admit to her that he had intended to have her and her only. Regardless of the fact that she hadn't the faintest clue, she was his intended of the fact. No other would do. He had never truly thought of taking a mate before, but now that he had met Kagome, truly met her, he couldn't imagine not taking a mate. More specifically, he couldn't imagine not taking her as a mate.

This annoyed him to no end. He had thought of his father more times in the last two years since realizing his emotions for the miko than he had in centuries. His disdain for her father grew at the same rate that his disdain for himself did. The likeness between father and son was highlighted more and more with every time that insufferable woman smiled up at him.

His ears twitched and his footsteps faltered as he heard the sound of his half-brother scoffing at some other being. Sesshoumaru didn't focus on the words of his foolish brother, honing in instead on the lackadaisical manner in which the half-breed spoke.

He had always thought of InuYasha to be foolish. Despite the benefit that had been gifted to the inudaiyoukai since , Sesshoumaru had to admit that InuYasha was more of a fool than Sesshoumaru could have ever realized to have let a woman such as Kagome ever fall out of love with him.

Satisfied, or, rather, dissatisfied with knowing that Kagome was not near the inuhanyou, Sesshoumaru continued on. Before he could get lost in his thoughts yet again, he caught the barest hint of her scent.

A panic that he would never admit to feeling surged through him as he recognized the coppery odor that lined her scent.

Sesshoumaru took to the skies, plumes of youki flowing around him as he raced passed fallen debris and worn down soldiers. Within seconds, he was descending again on ruined greenery. He heard his retainer before he saw Kagome.

Stepping over the destroyed cliffs edge, Sesshoumaru felt his jaw tighten at the sheer amount of red that decorated the grass. At the stench of blood that washed out the scent of Kagome. His eyes were locked on the slumped figure resting atop a particularly red patch of grass.

"Milord!" The imp shrieked again after not having been acknowledged the first time, never once taking a step towards Sesshoumaru after turning to look at him. He remained his seemingly protective vigil over the huddled form behind him.

Kagome truly was more formidable than she realized herself to be, if the imp's desire to protect her was any indication.

Jakken let down a barrier that Sesshoumaru hadn't realized was put up. A barrier he hadn't realized Jakken was capable of putting up.

A barrier that kept me from finding her.

Sesshoumaru scowled as he approached. His footsteps felt both sluggish and rushed. A jarring juxtaposition to mirror the contrasting war of emotions that erupted from his weak heart as he took in the glaring red gash lining the front of Kagome's hakui.

Clawed fingertips dug into the hilt of his Tensaiga has he realized that there was no motion stirring the crimson-stained fabric. Jakken let out a small squeak of surprise but still stayed by Kagome's ever-still side. As if sensing Sesshoumaru's next question as his eyes stared into the hole where metal should have peeked out, not bare and bloodied flesh, the imp sputtered nonsense about how the armor Sesshoumaru had gifted to Kagome was passed onto a lesser warrior who had begun the battle without so much as a chest plate.

Of course she gave it to someone else.

Not for the first time, Sesshoumaru cursed her kind nature.

Unsheathing his sword, the inudaiyoukai was interrupted only by the screeching sound of his half-breed brother and the taijiya he often travelled with. The duo shrieked her name, the despair in their voices more grating than Jakken's voice could ever hope to be. The aforementioned imp leapt out of the way as Sesshoumaru lifted his blade above his head, bringing it down desperately, the blade slicing through the air above his intended.

The sound of InuYasha's thrumming footsteps irritated him as he watched the blade have no effect. Sesshoumaru tried again. And when that swing yielded no results, he tried again.

He was unaware that his emotionless mask had slipped until his brother caught his wrist before he could swing it again, the sudden jerking motion causing a single tear to escape his eyes. Another rolled down his marked cheek as he wrenched his wrist free, head bowing as he growled, "How long has it been since she has passed?"

The taijiya finally caught up to InuYasha. She stepped passed him, passed both Sesshoumaru and Jakken, and fell to her knees beside Kagome's motionless body. The grip Sesshoumaru had on the Tensaiga tightened as he watched the woman gather up Kagome into her arms. Keeping his eyes trained on that gash, Sesshoumaru asked again, "How long?"

The threatening rumble in his voice left no room for the imp to mistake the question as rhetorical. "I-I am unsure, milord."

"She's still warm," The taijiya looked up, hopeful eyes trained on InuYasha as she spoke. "Maybe that's why the Tensaiga won't work."

Despite knowing that her words were based on false and desperate hope, Sesshoumaru sheathed his blade and knelt beside Kagome. Her eyes were just barely open, the azure irises glossy and devoid of the life that had been in them just hours before. Clawed fingertips ran up delicate skin. Just as the taijiya had said, Kagome's skin was still warm, though he knew the warmth of her body was a result of the burning sun above and not that of surviving life. The pad of his thumb passed gently over her pulse point. He could not detect any trace of her heartbeat. He could not hear or feel even the shallowest of breaths.

Though he hoped for nothing, he was still disappointed. Angry. Despairing. "Is her assailant dead?"

"Yes, mi-milord." The shudder in Jakken's voice irritated Sesshoumaru. His retainer, the only being who hated humans nearly as much as Sesshoumaru, was stricken with grief.

Sesshoumaru had an urge to have the imp point out who had slain his beloved, just so he could revive them and kill them by his own claws. Instead, he asked, "Was she the cause of their passing?"

Again, Jakken nodded, "Yes, milord."

As his retainer began to regale how she had bested her assailant, a small smile crested on Sesshoumaru's lips. Smoothing her hair out of her face, Sesshoumaru moved to steal her body from the taijiya and gather Kagome in his own arms instead. Quietly, speaking more to himself than anyone, he muttered, "A warrior even after being wounded. I expected nothing less. And you do not oft disappoint this Sesshoumaru."

His smile quickly faded as the taijiya tightened her hold on Kagome's upper half. "We should take her back to Edo." The woman's voice was laden with sorrow. Her eyes peered up at him and her words came out in a whisper. "We should take her back to her home." The proud woman sounded as though she were begging him to relinquish his hold on Kagome.

InuYasha moved behind his comrade, stooping down so that he could stare into Sesshoumaru's eyes. His voice was no less pleading as he spoke. "She should be with those that she loved."

Wise words coming from him. Unfortunately, the inuhanyou was incorrect in assuming that his group was the only one she had loved. Was the only group that had loved her.

Careful to mind the body that rested in his hands, Sesshoumaru adjusted his hold. "She will be with those that she loved." He assured none-too gently. Before either former companion of hers could voice their opinions, Sesshoumaru stood, pressing Kagome against him. He turned his back towards his half-brother and the taijiya, the two either too stunned to move or wise enough to know better than to stop the Western Lord. Sesshoumaru figured it was more likely that the taijiya was the second option and InuYasha was the first.

The first thing Sesshoumaru noticed was the green irises of a kitsune. The second was the set of deep purple robes that the kitsune used to shield his tears. Sesshoumaru continued by them, ignoring InuYasha's screams of anguished protests aimed at him for taking Kagome and at his companions for stopping him from retrieving her.

He would appeal to the gods later. If necessary, he would rip them from heavenly palaces above and force them to restore his Kagome to him. For now, he would clutch the woman he loved to his chest and settle. He would sit beneath the red sky and reminisce on memories he didn't think to cherish.

Wandering far from where she had drawn her last breath, Sesshoumaru walked beyond the swarms of allied youkai and human soldiers. Beyond the ailing beings who learned of Kagome's passing either from the mouthes of others or from the sight of him passing by. He walked until Jakken's skittering footsteps stopped and the grass below his boots was no longer tinted red. All the while, his gaze remained forward. He feared that if he looked down, he would be unable to stop himself from prying the heavens open.

An eerie peacefulness settled over the earth as he decided upon his resting spot. He was miles from the wailing cries of the injured and the mourning. The tranquility that may have coursed through him at the silence was absent, instead filling him with a sense of longing. Longing for her near endless chatter. Longing for the crashing sound of her clumsy footsteps. Longing for her.

Sesshoumaru finally glanced down at her as he settled into a meditative pose with her resting in his lap. The warmth that had been forcefully pressed into her skin by the burning sun had faded as the yellow star descended below the horizon. Despite the harrowing emptiness her expression projected, Kagome remained ethereal. It almost looked as though she was simply sleeping rather than laying in what Sesshoumaru would ensure is only temporary death.

Instinctively, his youki reached out to coddle her reiki. The act was unconscious but had a sharp effect on his heart.

Not for the first time, he was reminded about the looming mortality of humans. It was foolish to spare even a passing glance at a human knowing their lifespan was little more than a blink to most youkai. It was even more foolish to mourn the death of such short lasting beings.

And yet, the inudaiyoukai mourned.

Set now in his determination to reclaim her soul and bond it to his immortal one despite his pressing pride, Sesshoumaru ran his hand down her cheek, sweeping the few stubborn strands of hair that had clung to her face away. When he could stand no longer to look at her lifeless beauty, to look into the eyes of the woman who had ensnared and ruined him, he looked away.

Shifting to press his forehead against the top of her head, Sesshoumaru noticed the dried blood that stained his clothing. Idly, Sesshoumaru wondered if he should ever wash his clothing again, as it now contained her life's essence. He lowered his marked eyelids, nuzzling against the girl in an uncharacteristically affectionate fashion as he moved to cover her with his tail. Though not even the harshest of colds could bother him, he could feel the faint prickle of shifting temperatures and it appeased him to ensure her warmth and comfort as he always had.

His heart ebbed with unfamiliar and unpleasant emotions as tears slipped down his cheeks and fell upon her head. As he rested below the bleeding sunset, after thoroughly cursing the useless blade that had failed him, Sesshoumaru took a deep breath and began to think of the time he had shared with her, of the happiness she had given him only to take it away once she had passed.

Today, he would mourn and meditate. Tomorrow, he would reassess and reclaim.