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koreofkore · 10 months

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Pilot episode | chapter 1

ᥲsᥱᥒᥲ іs іᥒ 𝖿᥆r ᥲ sᥙr⍴rіsᥱ ᥕһᥱᥒ ᥲ ᥴһіᥣძ kᥒ᥆ᥴks ᥆ᥒ һᥱr ძ᥆᥆r ᥴᥣᥲіmіᥒg 𝗍᥆ ᑲᥱ һᥱrs.

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Fairytale world

Prince Charming (Tony) rode on his horse along the stretch of the land towards a forest. In the forest, he meets seven dwarves gathered around a glass coffin. "You're to late." Wong says. He looks at Pepper in the coffin. Her skin pale and her chest unmoving. "No. No! Open it." He ordered. "I'm sorry, she's gone." Strange said mornfully. "At least let me say goodbye." Tony begged.

All seven men remove the glass top. Tony leans down and kisses her lips and a wave of magic pulses throughout the kingdom. No one notices except the birds that leave the branches they perched on. Pepper wakes up with a gasp. "You... You found me." She said breathlessly. "Did you ever doubt I would?" Tony asked her. "Truthfully, the glass coffin gave me pause." She joked.

"Well, you never have to worry. I will always find you." He assured. "Do you promise?" She asked. "I do." Tony says at their wedding. "And do you, Pepper Potts, promise to take this man to be your husband, and love him for all eternity?' The priest asked. " I do she says. " I now pronounce you husband and wife." The priest says. Everyone applauds and cheers. Pepper and Tony lean to kiss each other when the ballroom doors swing open by a magical force. "Sorry I'm late." The red head stated.

She goes to approach the newlyweds and the guards try to stop her. She flings them away with magic. "It's the Queen. Run!" Someone in the crowd yells. "She's not the queen anymore. She's nothing more than a evil witch." Pepper said grabbed her husbands sword pointing it at her.

"No, no, no. Don't stoop to her level. There's no need." He consoles. Tony takes his sword from her. "You're wasting your time. You've already lost. And I will not let you ruin this wedding." Tony said. "Oh, I haven't come here to ruin anything. On the contrary, dear, I've come to offer you a gift." Natasha smiles. "We want nothing from you." Pepper says in anger.

"But you shall have it! My gift to you is this happy, happy day. But tomorrow my real work begins. You've made your vows, now I make mine. Soon everything you love, everything all of you love, will be taken from you. Forever. And out of your suffering, will rise my victory. I shall destroy your happiness if it is the last thing I do." Natasha turns around after her speech and heads for the door.

"Hey!" Tony calls after her. Natasha turns and he launched his sword at her. She disappears in a puff of black smoke letting the sword crash on the ground.

The real world

A young girl Yelena is seen with a book that contains illustrations of Tony and Pepper on the page. She's seen getting on a bus to Boston. "That a good book?" An elderly woman asked. "This? Is more than a book." The young girl says her little accent coming out. "Oh?" She asked.

Boston, south station. "Thank you for riding Greyhound." The bus announcer said. Yelena gets off the bus and finds a taxi. "You take credit cards?" She asked holding up the card. "Where to, chief?" The driver asked.

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Asena sat in a restaurant waiting on her target to come for their 'date'. She takes a sip of wine knowing that she'd need it. She wore a pink dress with matching heels and her hair was curly. She sat crossed leg to stop her shaking. To be honest she was scared the guy wouldn't show. But he finally did. "Asena." He greeted.

"Ryan? You looked relieved." She said. "Well, it is the internet. Pictures can be..." He pauses trying to find the right word. "Fake, outdated. Stolen from a Victoria's Secret catalogue." She finished.

He nodded. "Sorry I'm late by the way." He says sitting down in the seat across from her after they greeted each other. "It's totally fine." She replied with a forced smile. "So... Um... Tell me something about yourself, Asena?" He asked nervously. "Oh. Ah, well, today's my birthday." She answered. "And you're spending it with me! What about your friends?" He asked.

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐈'𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐨𝐝𝐤𝐚. She thought.

"Kind of a loner." She answered. "And, you don't like your family?" He asked. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. She thinks holding her facade.

"No family to like." She said taking another sip of wine. "Oh, come on. Everyone has family." Ryan says. "Technically, yeah. And everyone knows who they are? Ready to run yet?" She replied. "Oh not a chance. You, Asena, are by far, the sexiest, friendless orphan I have ever met." He said.

𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐧? 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡. She thought. "Okay. Your turn. No wait let me guess. Umm... You are handsome, charming." She started internally gaging. "Go on." Ryan says.

"The kind of guy who— now stop me if I get this wrong — embezzled your former employer, got arrested, and skipped town before they could throw your ass in jail." She fake laughed. "What?" The man asked playing dumb. "And the worst part of all is your wife. Your wife loves you so much that she bailed you out, and how do you repay that loyalty? You're on a date." She finished off.

"Who are you?" The man asked. "The chick that put up the rest of the money." Asena answers. " You're a bails bondsman." Ryan realized. "Bail bondsperson." She corrected. Ryan flipped the table spilling everything on her and took off running. "Bloody Hell!" She groans.

Ryan runs across the street dodging cars and Asena just casually walks through traffic. He tries to start the ignition and looks to find a boot on his tire. "You don't have to do this, okay? I can pay you. I got money." Ryan bargained. "No, you don't. And if you did, you should give it to your wife and take care of your family." Asena said crossing her arms.

"The hell do you know about family, huh?" The man asked. "Nothing." She replied smashing his head against t he steering wheel. When Asena arrived home she kicks off her heels walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of Scotch and opened a box with a cupcake inside.

She opens the bottle and then puts a star shaped candle in the cupcake. "Another loner year." She lights it then closes her eyes and makes a wish. Theres a knock on the door and Asenas head snapped to it. She opens the door and sees a child. "Are you Asena Montgomery?" She asked. "Yeah?" She answered skeptically. "I'm Yelena and I'm your daughter." The younger blonde says. Yelena pushes past her and into the apartment. "Woah! Hey, kid! Kid! Kid! I don't have a daughter! Where are your parents?" Asena asked.

"Ten years ago. Did you give up a baby for adoption? That was me." Yelena explained. "... Give me a minute." The woman said going to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror trying to compose herself. She didn't think that her past would catch up with her ten years later. Plus how could that little girl know that she was her mother?

She had a closed adoption which meant the kid shouldn't even know that she existed. "Hey do you have any juice? Never mind, found some." Yelena hollered from the kitchen. Asena leaves the bathroom after taking a deep breath. She sees the little girl drinking her orange juice straight from the bottle. "Gross." She said taking the bottle from the child. "You know, we should probably get going." Yelena realizes.

"Going where?" Asena asked confused. "I want you to come home with me." Yelena clarified. "Okay, kid. I'm calling the cops." Asena picked up her phone. "Then I'll tell them you kidnapped me." Yelena fired back. "And they'll believe you because I'm your birth mother." Asena huffed in realization. "Yep." The child hummed. "Fair played, but you and I both know you aren't gonna do that." Asena tilted her head in protest.

"Try me." The ten year old challenges. "You're pretty good. But here's the thing, there's a lot I'm good at and a hell of a lot I'm terrible at in life. I have 840 confirmed kills so murder obviously isn't one of them. Let's call it a superpower. I can tell when anyone's lying and you, kid, are." Asena explained to the girl. "Wait... Please don't call the cops. Please come home with me." Yelena begged.

"Where do you live?" Asena sighed. "Storybrooke, Maine." Yelena said. "Storybrooke? Are you serious?" Asena asked. Yelena hummed and nodded. "Alright then." Asena rubbed her temples.

Fairytale world

In the castle in the forest Pepper stood near the balcony, and a bluebird lands on her finger. "What's wrong?" Tony asked. "Nothing" Pepper snapped out of her daze. "You're thinking about what the Queen said again, aren't you? Pepper, please. I can't keep having this conversation. You have to let it go. We're about to have a baby." Pepper turns her head ashamed of being caught thinking about the threat.

She had agreed to try and move past that but how do you move past something like that, especially after you know that she will be true to her word. Pepper knew that Natasha would try everything in her power to take away her happiness. "I haven't had a restful night since our wedding." Pepper pointed out. And it was the truth, she hadn't slept well at all she felt as if she had to look over her shoulder consistently again. "That's what she wants - to get in your head. But they're only words. She can't hurt us." Tony reassured pulling her in.

"She poisoned an apple because the thought i was prettier than her. You have no idea what she's capable of." Pepper argued pulling out of his hold. He didn't get it and she needed him to get it. This woman has made her life hell for years. Natasha has had it out for her and wanted to see her dead and now this. " What can I do to ease your mind?" Tony asked starting to realize that he wasn't going to win this argument and that she wouldn't sleep until she got some type of clarity.

"Let me talk to him." Pepper answered. He was the only one who could give her that reassurance that her child would be safe. "Him? You don't mean..." Tony asked with a hint of fear. "I do." Pepper answered back with a look of determination. "No, no, no. It's too dangerous." Tony shut down the idea immedi ately. She couldn't be serious. She knew how dangerous he was. "He sees the future." Pepper points out. Tony made a face. He was scared he would admit that to no one but himself because he had to be strong for Pepper.

But that didn't mean he wanted help from the person he helped trap. that was suicide. "There's a reason he's locked up." Tony said logically. Pepper placed a hand on her swollen stomach. "Can you promise me that our child will be safe? Can you guarantee it? Because he can." Pepper questioned. The look on Pepper's face was enough to make him cave. Seeing her look so unlike her normal fearless self. "Alright. For our child." Pepper smiled in relief and Tony leaned in for a kiss. She had no idea how much power she had over him, and maybe that was a good thing.

Real world

Asena and Yelena were driving and the former had no idea what time it was. The drive was silent for the most part until Yelena broke it. "I'm hungry. Can we stop somewhere?" The girl asked. "This isn't a road trip kid. We aren't stopping for snacks." Asena replied. Yelena closed her book. "Why not?" She pestered. She was hungry she could feel her stomach growling.

She could also tell that they were close to home and she wasn't ready to go back yet. "Quit complaining, Kid. Remember i could've easily put your ass on a bus and let you go the same way you came." Asena said annoyed slightly. "You know i have a name right? It's Yelena." The blonde child pouted before opening her book again. "What's that." Asena asked just now noticing the big old looking book. "I'm not sure you're ready." Yelena flips through the pages. "Not ready for what? A bunch of fairytales?" Asena questioned scrunching up her face.

Yelena makes a face. These weren't just fairytales they were a truth and even if they were which she was pretty sure they weren't, they were a history, her history. "They aren't just fairytales they are a truth. Every story in this book is a truth, someone's truth. Every story in this book actually happened." Yelena deadpanned. "Of course they did." Asena sighed. It was a long night and this kid has made it longer. Yelena on the other hand was just huffing. How dare she not take her seriously.

"I know I sound crazy, but use your superpower, see if I'm lying." Yelena dared. Asena did and the girl was telling the truth. She wasn't about to let this kid slide though. "Just because you believe in something doesn't make it true. " Asena looked over at the page. "Uh no that's exactly what makes it true. You would know more than I would." Yelena scans through a page. "Oh really now? Why is that?" Asena asked. "Because you're in this book." Yelena flipped to the next page

"You have problems." Asena chuckles. This kid was crazy but so was she so she had no room to say anything. "Yep. And you're going to fix them." Yelena snorted. Asena laughed before switching lanes.

Enchanted Forest

Pepper and Tony are walking behind a guard with cloaks on their heads. The guard has a torch in his hand and he stops them just before they get to the cell. "When we reach the cell, stay out of the light. And whatever you do, do not let him know your name. If he knows your name, he wil have power over you." The guard warns, Pepper and Tony nod at him. "Loki. Loki! I have a question for you." The guard calls to the man in the cell.

Loki comes out of the shadows of the cell. "No, you don't They do. Pepper Potts and Tony Stark..." Loki rasped coming closer to the bars of the cell. "You insult my abilities. Step into the light and take off those ridiculous robes they don't suit you." Loki beckoned.

Pepper and Tony step into the light and slowly lower their hoods to reveal themselves. "Much better." Loki praises. "We've come to you about the..." Tony started before he was cut off. "Yes, yes, you idiot i know why you're here. You want to know about the queen's threat." Loki giggled before turning to the walls of the cell. "Tell us what you know and skip all the taunting." Tony deadpanned.

Loki was finding this amusing he could tell they were desperate. "Ooh tense, are we? Fear not! I can ease your mind. But... It's going to cost you something." Loki was playing with them he wanted nothing big they couldn't give him what he really wanted. Toying with them would be easy. "No he's just a waste of time." Tony turned to leave and Loki faked offence. "What do you want?" Pepper stepped forward and Tony spun around quickly. "Oh...The name of your unborn child." Loki said leaning against the stone of the wall with his arms crossed. "Absolutely not!" Tony protested.

"Deal! What do you know?" Pepper rushed out quickly. She needed to know she didn't have time for Tony's paranoia. Loki giggles and says, "The queen has created a powerful curse. And it's coming. Soon, you'll all be in a prison. Just like me only worse. Your prison, all of our prisons, will be time. Time will stop, and we will be trapped. Someplace horrible, where everything we hold dear, everything we love, will be ripped from us while we suffer for eternity. While the Queen celebrates, victorious at last. No more happy endings." Loki explains with a smile on his face. He laughs at the fact that they remain absolutely clueless and the fear that he could feel radiating from them. "What can we do?" Pepper asked with a sense of dread in her chest.

She was scared of the answer, well not the answer an answer one that could break her heart. "We can't do anything." Loki emphasizes the we. Because in truth they couldn't there was nothing Pepper, himself, Tony could do. "Who can?" Pepper asked again with that same feeling of dread. "That little thing, growing inside your belly. " Loki moves his hand, in a gesture, towards Pepper's stomach. Tony draws his sword quickly and slashes at his hand. "Hands off reindeer games. Next time I cut it off." Tony sheathed his sword and placed a hand on his wife's lower back. Loki tsks and glances at his hand. "The infant is our only hope. Get the child to safety. Get the child to safety and Ion it's twenty-eighth birthday, the child will return. The child will find you and the final battle will begin." Loki says in a sing song voice before spinning on his heel and moving away from the bars.

Tony didn't like that answer and he made it clear by saying, "We've heard enough. We're leaving." And he guided Pepper to the exit. "Hey! No! We made a deal! I want her name! We had a deal! I need her name! I want her name!" Loki growls and angrily hits the bars. "Her? It's a boy." Tony rests his hand on Pepper's bump. "Missy... Missy... You know I'm right. Tell me, what's her name?" Loki asked in a much more calmer voice. "Asena. Her name is Asena." Pepper sighed and started to walk again. "Asena..." Loki mumbled.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #ouat au #Swanqueenau #natasha romanoff x oc #Enchantment au #Enchantment fic:

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another-lost-mc · 11 months

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Rubies in the Dark LUCIFER x gn!Reader 4.9k Words | NSFW | Medieval Fantasy AU | Dubious Behaviour Content Warnings: Dark Elvish Prince!Lucifer x Alchemist!Reader. Contains descriptions of monsters, magic and blood/gore/violence; minor injury; implied stalking, breaking and entering, invasion of privacy; dream magic, dream sex, mutual masturbation, implied somnophilia. (Also, shameless references to Warcraft lore because it inspired the worldbuilding for this story.) A/N: This is my fic for @bizarrebankai's 1k Follower Collab! 💙

It’s been nearly five years since you left your family’s small farm to create a new life in Hillsbrad Foothills. You didn’t have any weapons' training and you weren’t magically gifted. Some of your childhood friends were, and they were able to move away to pursue new adventures, leaving you behind. Your family expected you to accept your boring country life, but you knew you wanted more. Disappointment and heartbreak finally motivated you to pack your meager belongings and set off on your own adventure.

You might not be a warrior or mage, but your new freedom gave you the opportunity to explore and study your true passion for alchemy. Your small cottage is located in one of the villages near the Alterac Mountains. Most of the villagers are hunters, gatherers, or tradesmen.

You make a comfortable living trading your alchemy creations to the other villagers. The foothills are an abundant source of some of the most useful flowers and herbs for crafting utility potions and healing elixirs. You don’t like to let things go to waste; the discarded plants you can’t use are milled and turned into ink that you supply to the local constable and village leaders.

In exchange for your services, they provide you with clothing and food and other useful goods. Your life is lonely, but it’s comfortable. Time has healed old wounds and very rarely is your mind plagued with doubt and regret; you know you’re better off without your unsupportive family and the weak-willed ex-lover you left behind.

Today was surprisingly busy and you were in your alchemy lab all morning. The weather started to turn and you saw clouds rolling over the hills when you peeked out the window. You glance at your herb reserves hesitantly and wonder if you have enough time to gather some more before the storm comes.

One of the village’s recent hunts ended bloodier than usual–there weren't any deaths, but more hunters were seriously wounded than normal. You were more than eager to provide them with potions to accelerate their recovery, but most of your supplies have run out as a result.

The wildlife in the foothills has become exceedingly aggressive. There aren’t many visitors to these quiet lands. There are rumors circulating the village of suspicious travellers conducting experiments with local animals and plant life along the region’s uninhabited borders. They talk about rabid animals and foliage overrun with disease, but you’ve been fortunate not to come across anything like that yourself.

The foothills aren’t easily accessible and are used mainly as a thoroughfare to other regions. There’s only one main road travelers can use to bypass the mountains: the eastern road leads into the valleys and the sea beyond; or the western road that winds up through Silverpine Forest, a thick and dark place nestled along the mountain range.

You’ve heard stories about Silverpine Forest, too–or the Demon’s Forest, if suspicious townsfolk are to be believed. Some people say that monsters hunt along the road at night. If the legends are true, they capture weary travelers and unsuspecting hunters and drag them to their demise in the dark, never to be seen or heard from again. This land might be home to magical and wondrous things, but even you doubt that the stories are true.

Regardless of what you believe, you try to be cautious when you go out to collect herbs on your own. You attach a long knife to your belt before you slip on your cloak, although it is more useful for trimming leaves and brances than for protection.

You bite your lip and glance nervously at the sky. The clouds overhead threaten rainfall, but you think you have enough time to restock some of your depleted resources. You slip out of your little cottage and follow the stone path to the main road heading west.

Today’s harvest is productive and uneventful. These foothills are an excellent source of Briarthorn and Silverleaf, some of the most potent herbs you use regularly. You’ll be able to provide the local healers with more elixirs with extras to spare.

You don’t normally venture this close to the western border, but you naturally follow the most abundant patches of herbs and it led you there. You haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary, but you’re still eager to return to your cottage before it gets too late.

You set along the path that will lead you home when a strange sound carries on the wind and catches your attention. It doesn’t sound human, but you recognize the whimpers and whines of a creature in pain. You take a hesitant step off the main road, and then another, until you’re walking slowly, carefully, through the grass towards the noise.

The unusual sounds lead you down a deep, sloping hill towards one of the region’s abandoned mines. You shiver from the sudden drop in temperature–something about the air in this area feels unsettling and desolate, and it sets your nerves on edge. The pained noises come from just inside the opening of one of the mining tunnels. You peek around the corner carefully, and you spot some sort of wounded animal.

At a first glance, you think it might be a type of bear, but it’s hard to tell without getting closer. It’s stuck in a tangled mess of thick, white webbing that pins it to the ground. The beast raises its head when your leather boot disturbs some loose stones, and its eyes–or is that two pairs of eyes?–blink at you. The beast is still whimpering in pain, but a low growl echoes around you now, too.

You hold up your hands and show the beast you mean it no harm. It sniffs the air curiously and the growling fades, which you interpret as a sign that it’s safe to approach. You kneel at the beast’s side and examine the webs trapping the poor animal in place. You stroke its furry back soothingly as you slowly cut away the thinner sections of webbing, but the thicker ropes along the beast’s back are too tough for your knife to hack through.

You’re so distracted by your task that a new sound startles you and makes your blood run cold; the beast starts to growl louder and more menacing than before. There’s a hissing noise approaching you from deep within the mine. The flurried sound of skittering limbs echo off the stone walls. Dozens of yellowish eyes seem to float in the darkness further down the tunnel from you and the beast.

It appears that the mines are home to a nest of overgrown spiders. The spiders are nothing like what you’ve seen before: they’re nearly as tall as you are and much wider. They have gnarly limbs and strange, pulsing growths jutting from their backs.

You have no weapons except for your knife, and it’s a poor substitute for a proper sword or axe–not that you could wield either of those successfully, even if you had one. The beast struggles to break free of its bindings next to you, but its limbs are still immobilized by the webs.

You don’t want to run and leave the beast to a bloody fate, but you don’t want to be devoured by the monsters approaching you either. You’re paralyzed by indecision and fear. You remember the stories of suspicious individuals creating abominations from nature in their wake. You didn’t want to believe the rumors were true; you didn’t think this is how you would die.

Something knocks into your back, and you yell in fright as you’re pushed aside. You’re afraid that a monster ambushed you from behind, but instead you see a tall figure wearing leather hunting gear underneath a long, dark cloak.

Whoever it is stops and examines the beast closely, and a male voice speaks to it in a strange language you don’t understand. He pats the beast’s heads–all three of them– before he approaches the swarm of spiders. He doesn’t hesitate to draw a long steel blade, and you stare in horror as he marches towards certain death.

“Hey, wait, don’t–!” you try to warn the stranger. You realize very quickly that your warning was not wanted or needed.

It’s not a battle so much as it is a slaughter. His movements are graceful but quick, and they’re difficult for you to follow. He darts a path through the monsters, his sharp weapon slicing through the air and cutting them down effortlessly. Frenzied, monstrous shrieks and hissing fill the air; the sound of flesh slicing and squelching blood makes you nauseous. The musty mine air grows heavy with the hint of copper. You clench your eyes shut and cover your ears.

Eventually, the sounds of carnage fade into nothingness, and all you can hear now is the wild thumping of your heartbeat. When you open your eyes, the hooded stranger is standing near the beast’s side once more. His sword drips black-red ichor from the slain spiders, and he wipes the blade clean. He cuts through the webbing so the beast can finally stand up properly. It reminds you of an enormous dog as it shakes its dark fur. Its heads each try to lick at the stranger’s face, and you hear a soft huff of amusement; it nearly makes you smile, despite everything you’ve just gone through.

The stranger finally seems to remember your presence and turns to face you. Most of his face is shrouded in darkness with his hood still up, but you know he’s staring at you. His attention feels weighted, almost suffocating. His aura is intense and you’ve seen for yourself he’s capable of ruthless bloodshed, but for some reason, you don’t feel afraid.

His head tilts questioningly. “Why?” his smooth voice asks quietly. “Why did you stop to help him?”

“I wanted to,” you reply honestly. You cringe when you realize how naive it sounds. You could’ve died, and you probably would have died, if not for the traveler’s excellent timing.

You don’t know what to say, and neither does he judging by his icy silence. Something catches your eye when you take a better look at his clothing. There’s a gash on his arm, and the thin material of his tunic is already soaked with blood from the wound. “You’re hurt,” you point out worriedly.

He looks at his arm like he didn’t even notice he was wounded, but he startles when you approach him without hesitation. “What do you think you’re–?” the stranger demands, but he only makes a half-hearted attempt to pull away from you.

You shake your head to silence his complaints and focus on his injury. You normally carry a small assortment of bandages in one of your pouches, pre-soaked with healing elixir, and you unwrap one and press it to his arm. You wrap it around the wound as gently as you can.

“I make these myself,” you explain to him quietly. You move the ripped fabric of his shirt aside, and your fingers brush against his bare skin. You hear a sharp intake of breath, and you pause tying the bandage in place. “Is it too tight?”

Even with his hood up, you can tell he’s shaking his head. “No, no–it’s fine."

When you’re satisfied with your work, you step back and give him some space. The man seems to be focused on his arm now, and the strange tension between you makes you nervous. Before you can think of anything else to say, rumbling thunder booms in the distance outside the mine and you look over your shoulder. The sky is even darker now, and only the barest hints of sunlight peek through the clouds.

You suddenly feel the tingling sensation of magic in the air. You turn around to ask the man if he lives nearby and what his name is, but he and his beast are gone. You scan the tunnel as far as your eye can see, but nothing else remains except for the plagued spider creatures the traveler killed to save you.

More thunder booms, louder and closer than before, and you rush from the mine. You see no sign of the man or his beast, but the storm brews on the horizon. You have no choice but to continue the journey home as quickly as you can and hope that they’re safe now too.

The villagers are on high alert after you inform them of the monstrous spiders you encountered near the western border of the region. You leave out the details of meeting the cloaked stranger and his three-headed beast.

Your thoughts drift to them often in the days that pass since that tense encounter. The traveler must be a gifted magic user if he was able to teleport them both away so easily. You feel the pang of envy when you think of your nonexistent magical skills, but you remind yourself that you’re an accomplished alchemist instead. You’ve honed your talents and found your own purpose in life; you don't need anything else.

Sometimes when you walk to town to buy supplies, or when you tend to the small garden of herbs near your cottage, you feel uneasy. You glance around nervously when the sensation of being watched makes your skin break out in goosebumps. You call out nervously and ask who’s there, but no one answers. The silence feels anticipatory somehow, and you wonder what it means.

The next morning you stumble tiredly from your room after a restless sleep. You think a warm cup of tea will help, but you freeze when you realize there’s a man in your house. His back is facing you while he looks over the alchemy texts and storybooks on your shelf. He turns to you properly when he hears your startled yelp of surprise.

The man looks like no one you’ve ever seen before. Black hair streaked with grey falls over his intense ruby-coloured eyes. He wears a silver circlet adorned with black opals. His black regalia is perfectly tailored and looks expensive. The dark fabric is accented with gold and red threads that almost seem to glitter in the sunlight shining through your window. His cloak is lined with fur, and his black leather boots are shined to a high polish. He clears his throat and tugs on the cuff of his gloves, almost like he’s nervous. Whoever the stranger is, he looks regal and important and painstakingly out of place in your humble cottage.

You should be afraid that a stranger broke into your home and looked through your belongings while you were sleeping in the next room unaware. However, there’s something familiar about him that you can’t place at first. You suddenly think of a three-headed beast and the cloaked stranger that saved you both, his pale, sharp jawline peeking below the shadow of his hood–

You realize the man before you is the swordsman from the mine, and he nods his confirmation when you ask him if he's one and the same. Your gaze lingers on his intense red eyes and the pointed tips of his ears, and he explains that he lives deep in Silverpine Forest with the elves. He tells you that he’s the crown prince of his kind, and he’s here because he owes you a debt of gratitude.

He looks visibly irritated when you tell him repayment of any kind isn’t necessary. Shouldn’t you be repaying him since he saved your life? But there’s a pink flush blooming across his cheeks despite his offended expression, and all he says is that it’s complicated. Apparently, risking your life to save elvish royalty–or his pet–is a big deal.

You rub your arms nervously and ask what he means. You’re expecting him to offer some sort of compensation, like gold or rare goods, and you plan on refusing all of it. What you don’t expect is for him to ask permission to court you. His eyes are serious and they blaze angrily when you burst into laughter at his proclamation.

(He doesn’t tell you that his brothers noticed his increasingly distracted behaviour the days following your fateful encounter. He washed the bandage you gave him and kept it for sentimental reasons he can’t even articulate properly. He can’t look at Cerberus without remembering how close he came to losing his beloved companion, or how brave you were to try to save him yourself. He thinks of how kind you were when you tended to his wounded arm and how gently you touched him–no one's ever touched him like that before.

He thinks about the spies he sent to your cottage to learn more about you, and how he grew too eager and started watching over you himself. He thinks about your reputable alchemy skills and kind nature, and how respected you are in your small village. He thinks about your potential, and how he can offer you so much more, if you’ll give him the chance.)

In the awkward silence that follows, you realize he isn’t joking and he's waiting for your response. You don’t mean to offend him, and you apologize profusely, but he can’t seriously expect you to accept such a proposal so easily, right?

But you think about your quiet isolation with only fleeting acquaintances among the townspeople to keep you company. You think about the world beyond the foothills that you pretend doesn’t exist. You’re not sure how you’ve ended up in another isolated prison of your own making.

Were you craving a sense of adventure when you let a strange beast’s cries lead you astray from the safest path home? What could someone like an elvish prince offer someone like you?

The world, a treasonous voice whispers in your mind. Judging by the mischievous gleam in his eye, you’re not sure whether that voice was yours or his.

You explain to him as gently as you can that you can’t accept such a bold offer of courtship, but you would be happy to accept an offer of friendship instead.

He readily agrees with your counter-proposal, and you wonder what you’re missing that makes him look so pleased; he looked ready to attack you for wounding his pride only moments ago. He refuses your offer to stay longer and visit, but he assures you that you’ll see him again soon. You stop him before he leaves when you realize you don’t even know his name.

My name is Lucifer, he tells you warmly. There’s an unreadable smile teasing his lips, and he offers you a murmured farewell before he disappears in a ripple of magic.

You ignore the curious voice inside your mind that wonders how long he'll make you wait before he visits again.

It’s been nearly a week since Lucifer visited your cottage and turned your world upside down. You haven’t seen him since, but you’ve made a mental note to ask him what friendship means to elvishkind. It almost seems like he completely ignored your rejection of his offer to court you.

Each morning when you wake, you find some sort of gift in your sitting room: a vase of rare wildflowers, silver jewelry fashioned similarly to the circlet he wore, a new cloak lined with soft fur that looks suspiciously like his own.

You pick up today’s gift–a heavy, leatherbound book about plants and herbs with blank pages at the end for keeping notes. You recognize some of the drawings on the pages: those plants don’t grow in the foothills, but you know they grow in abundance within Silverpine Forest where Lucifer lives, that cheeky devil.

These tokens feel too intimate for the early stages of blooming friendship, but you suspect he knows that. Is he so arrogant that he thinks your affections can be won so easily despite your initial protests?

(Or does he know that despite your protests, you enjoy all his thoughtful gifts? He’s so considerate of your interests and passions. It’s difficult not to be flattered that someone as interesting and handsome as him would be determined to impress someone like you.)

Your cottage starts to feel different as it fills with gifts the elvish prince brings you while you sleep. It’s almost like he leaves hints of his unique magic on purpose for you to find. You catch whiffs of the smoky-sweet fragrance he wears as you walk through the halls, and you can't help but think of him when you do.

Sometimes you still feel like you’re being watched, but the sensation feels friendlier somehow, rather than invasive and alarming. When you look out your window in the evenings and stare into the thicket behind your cottage, you can almost imagine the flash of blood-red eyes staring back at you.

You’ve been using the book Lucifer gave you as a type of journal. It’s become an intimate confession of your wonder and your fears and doubts. You write about regret and hope and opportunities for new beginnings. You think about friendship and the potential for more, and you wonder how it might feel to wake up in a bed warmed by someone that loves you. You haven’t wanted these sorts of things in a very long time. You’re not sure whether to thank or curse the elvish prince for filling your head with such desperately beautiful ideas.

The next morning, you wake up and find another gift: a glass jar filled with fragrant tea leaves. The unique blend smells earthy and herbal and slightly sweet. You hold the jar to your chest and glance at your journal on the writing desk. It’s open to the last page you wrote on, but you know you closed it before you went to bed last night. Realization dawns on you: Lucifer wanted you to know that he read it, and now he knows all your conflicted thoughts about him.

You boil water and make a cup of tea with the leaves he gave you. You step outside into the early morning sunlight and sip your drink thoughtfully. The familiar feeling of eyes on you returns, and you wonder why it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as it used to.

You dream of Lucifer for the first time that night. It feels like your consciousness is floating amongst soft clouds. You feel weightless and protected and cared for. You can’t see him–not at first, anyway–but you know he’s there with you. His familiar scent is so strong you can almost taste it, and you recognize the deep, teasing timber of his voice when his quiet chuckle echoes all around you. You know it’s not real, but it feels like strong arms cradle you in a warm embrace and it feels so wonderful.

Wakefulness disturbs the tranquility of the dream, and you see one last flicker of red eyes before you sit up in your bed, wide-awake and breathless. You rub your eyes and squint as the morning sunshine filters in the gap of your curtain and bathes your room in light. Something catches your attention from the corner of your eye, and you realize he left his next gift in your room this time: a deep-red rose fully in bloom and tied with a black ribbon, placed next to your pillow while you dreamt of him.

Whatever is happening between you and Lucifer continues to grow more intense as days pass. Every night when you sleep, he visits you in your dreams like he knows your resistance to him is crumbling. His dream-self doesn’t really speak to you, except for deep sighs that sound like your name when he holds you against his chest. Sometimes his fingers trail lightly up and down your arm, and you can feel his warm, damp breath fan against your nape as his nose brushes against your neck.

His presence fades away when you wake up with the morning sun, and your new gift from him waits somewhere nearby. The traces of his magic seem to linger and grow stronger each time he visits you in your room. It almost feels possessive, like he’s leaving his mark on you so you can’t possibly forget him. It’s a constant reminder of who he is and what he wants from you.

His gifts become more intimate over time, too–a box filled with rare candied nuts and creamy chocolates, a bottle of rare fruit wine, a delicately woven blanket for your bed. Today’s gift is the most extravagant yet: a black silk robe with gold and red embroidery. It’s similar in style to the royal regalia he wore when he came to your home for the first time. The underlying significance of that doesn’t escape your notice.

You set the robe aside while you dress in your normal attire and carry on with your work for the day. Time passes in a blur as you grind herbs to make potions, and you mill the discarded parts into pigment for ink. When you head to the village to deliver the finished goods, you feel his intense gaze on you from somewhere nearby; he must realize by now that the bashful smile you try to smother is meant for him.

A strange feeling of anticipation has been building inside you all day. You get ready for bed that evening and take off your clothes. It’s almost like you can’t stop yourself when you slip on the robe he gave you in place of your usual sleepwear. The significance of wearing this to bed, and only this, doesn’t escape you either.

You don’t normally think about your appearance or attractiveness, but wearing something that he made specially for you feels like a type of seduction. The robe feels so soft and sensual against your naked skin, and you realize this is what it feels like to be desirable. The robe is loose across your chest and near the gap between your legs when you lay down. The thin fabric leaves tantalizing strips of bare skin exposed in the cool night air.

When you fall asleep, you realize immediately that tonight’s dream is different. You’re laying flat on something soft, and someone’s body cages you beneath theirs. You recognize the red glint of his eyes as the shadows fade away from his face. He braces himself on one arm while the other tugs at the fastening keeping your robe closed.

Mine, he whispers. His hand pauses, waiting for permission.

Yours, you whisper back.

Once he has your consent, the restraint he’s been clinging to finally gives way to his primal instincts. He leans forward and kisses you as your robe falls open completely and you’re finally bare to him. His hands and mouth claim every inch of your body for himself. He’s gentle and slow as he explores you. The crimson eyes you once feared are molten with greedy affection for you and you alone. He makes a trail of open-mouthed kisses and small, suckled bruises across your skin.

When he's reached the edge of his control, he surges back up your body and captures your lips in another heated kiss. He slides his hand between your legs and teases the edge of your arousal. He nips gently at your skin when you bare your throat to him, and he smiles wickedly at the first soft sigh that escapes you.

He groans when you explore his chest and glide along his tapered waist until you find the hardening length grinding against your hip. His cock is hard and heavy in your hand, and he growls deep in his chest as you begin to stroke him. His fingers are relentless and you move together, stroking each other in a hot, desperate haze that threatens to consume you both.

He whispers sweet praise into your ear when you fall apart beneath him, and he gasps and moans your name when he comes too. Your hands are both stained as his release mixes with your own. The inside of your thighs are wet and sticky, and your chest heaves while you catch your breath.

He maneuvers you so he’s laying behind you. He wraps an arm possessively around your waist. It may only be a dream, but you swear you’ve never felt so good. You feel relaxed and content and your eyes slip closed.

Stay, you whisper into the strange, ethereal silence of the dreamscape. He grows still behind you for a moment, but he brushes a kiss against your bare shoulder and you know what his answer is.

Something suddenly jolts you into wakefulness. It’s still early in the morning and the sun hasn’t risen yet. You feel so warm, but you realize it’s because of a heavy weight against your back. A strong, muscular arm is draped over your waist and nimble fingers trace abstract shapes on your belly. The familiar tingle of magic and the scent of honeyed smoke surrounds you. The evidence of his desire for you still clings to your thighs, sticky and not quite dry.

“Mine?” his sleep-roughened voice rumbles behind you as he tightens his hold on your waist.

You relax deeper into his arms and smile when he nuzzles against you. “Yours.”

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