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shiny-jr · 10 months

Text

from DIASOMNIA

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: This is just the first part, only with Diasomnia. I’ll post the rest later once its written. For now, I hope you enjoy this part! Oh, and this was inspired by the mention of letters @qierxing‘s fic inspired by the whole imposter au idea. So yeah. Hopefully I caught all the mistakes in this post because I am not rereading all that again.

Diasomnia | Ignihyde

Among the first letters you pick is carefully sealed in a black envelope. You found it peculiar that Grim, who had offered to use his claws to open the envelopes, hadn’t been able to cause the slightest tear as if it were being protected by some magic. But it opened with ease during your first attempt to rip it open.

You didn’t care much for the wax family crest that had sealed it, or the black envelope itself. Maybe it would feel liberating to just set them all ablaze as soon as you finished skimming over the carefully written words.

To my dearest human,

I understand the pain I have caused you.

Ever since that moment I betrayed you, all I have seen in my vision and in my mind is your expression of terror. It tortures me. Your terror spurred by my actions and my very own hands. I am your most beloved and loyalest of companions in this world, and yet, had my retainers behind those doors not intervened, you would have been gone forever. And it would have been all my doing, all my fault.

I write this letter to apologize, but as I write this, I realize that there is no forgiving what has been done. Ever. No matter how I plead or what comes from my lips. But I will say this: there are no amount of words that can truly convey how sorry I am. This will haunt me for the remainder of my centuries of life.

Agonizing thoughts plague my mind and torment me at all hours of the day and night, at every and each moment. Even now, I reflect on everything I had done to harm you. While, the time I believed in those falsehoods was minuscule compared to the days others knew and acted upon it, the fact still stands that I was too easily deceived by mere rumors alone. I was blinded by my rage when I heard that someone dared to impersonate you and had been the probable cause of your vessel’s malfunction, that I did not even take a brief respite to consider the validity of the information that reached my ears.

Believe me, although I realize you have no reason to hold even a shred of faith in a single word I say and for that I would not blame you, but I will atone for the crimes I have committed. In any way possible. Even if it takes my entire lifetime, I will continue forward until I have achieved this goal and you may smile upon me once again. There is a human saying, which if I recall correctly I believe goes something like, forgive but never forget. Well, I would beg for forgiveness, while knowing full well that my misdeeds will never truly be forgotten. The harm I inflicted will leave scars that will never fully fade.

For every scratch my nails left on your delicate flesh, you may drive vines of the sharpest thorns against my own skin until blood pools all around me. For every bruise from my hand that tainted you, I would hand you an iron sword to use as you wish against me until you believe I’ve had enough. If it pleased you, I would even utilize my magic to transform into a figure with wings, which I would then proceed to sever the wings by my own hand and offer them to you on a silver platter.

Any punishment you can think of, I would readily accept.

Although living with the guilt of my mistakes and knowledge of the weight of my actions against you, is by far the most painful torture I’ve ever known.

If I do not receive word from you soon, I fear I may go insane with my own guilt. Yet I know I bring this upon myself. And if I were to go insane, if I was not insane this entire time already, you are all that would be in my thoughts. You are all that would remain in the part of my mind that is intact. You are currently and have been all that I think of, so perhaps my sanity is already long gone.

I would venture into the deepest crevices of hell and back, just to prove my worth to you. Even if I must be punished for the rest of my life, so be it. But I implore you to allow me to redeem myself, let yourself bear witness to the incredible feats I may accomplish in your name. Redemption... The thought of perhaps one day receiving the blessing of your smile and your grace once more in the near or distant future, is the light at the end of the tunnel in this dark period of my existence. I am yours. Whether you still desire me or not, I will forever be yours, and I will brave through trials of fire to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you.

Just know that I will do everything in my power to please you. Whether it be to fulfill the judgement you cast upon me, to demonstrate my worth and determination to achieve redemption, or simply because you command it so, it shall be done.

For now, I will wait on your response and deliberate over my next course of action. Should you desire anything, anything at all, wether it be something as simple as traveling to the store for a purchase, you have a moment of recluse and desire company, or if you command me to move the island or clear the very heavens, all you must do is speak my name. Then, consider it done. Once my name is upon your lips, I will be there as the last syllable leaves your tongue.

I will await the moment I am summoned.

Forever yours,

Malleus Draconia

That was... unnerving. Your hand unconsciously drifted up to the slight puncture wounds on your neck. They had long since dried, but you vividly remember feeling the thin trail of crimson being drawn and dripping down like a steady stream.

You could remember the way Malleus withdrew as soon as he realized the truth, like he had been burned with his hands on you in that fashion. The blood, your blood, staining his sharpened nails. The red was deeper than any nail polish or ink.

You were nearly sent spiraling, until you felt a tap and the texture of paper against your arm. When you glance down, you see Grim pressing his paws with another crumpled letter onto you. The ink on this letter is red, but the feline’s wide curious eyes are a glowing blue.

“You okay? What’s so interesting about that wall you’re lookin’ at? You’re kinda just staring off into nothing there.”

Offering a grateful nod to Grim who frowned worriedly, you accept the already opened envelope while tossing aside the letter from Malleus. “I’m good. Just... thinking.”

Lifting a hand, you place your palm against his head and scratch the spot behind his ears. Grim lets out a content purr and holds a bag of junk food, which he probably found among the mountain of gifts, and curls up beside you. You continue the slow and soothing scratches as you use your freehand to unravel the letter Grim brought you from the towering stacks.

This envelope was already cut open. It was a light brown and more square-shaped as thin rope kept it tied together. It had a mash of colorful strings that formed a messy bow to top it off. At least, you assumed it was meant to be a bow, but it looked more like a messy knot that would be impossible to untangle. Good thing it was already partially cut by Grim’s claws earlier.

As mentioned, the ink was red, an interesting choice. While the handwriting was not as elegant as Malleus’ letter. Some words were written neatly, before falling off the line and blending with other words. Making it a bit difficult to read, but you managed.

If you’re reading this,

This means that I am not irredeemable in your eyes.

Had I been beyond redemption, you would have not even opened this letter. If this was a lost cause, a merry dance, this paper would’ve been tossed into the trash without a second thought. But, my words have reached you. You’re reading this right now, aren’t you? It’s why I decided to write this. I could predict the actions you’d take. You are different from your vessel, but it’s only natural that you would act similarly to the silly little doll you controlled, the same doll that sparked this whole fiasco.

I truly am so sorry if I frightened you. While I will admit, it was my intention to strike fear into your heart and use you to serve for another dubious purpose, that was when I hadn’t recognized you. Although, I know this doesn’t mean much to you, I figured I should be entirely honest to you. It’s the least I can do. I’m such a fool for being quick to believe the rumors like some sort of senseless child.

All I can do now, is remain true and offer up my loyalty. It’s nothing compared to the mistakes I made, and I’ve made plenty, but I know an apology will never suffice. So, even if you’re still uncertain about redemption, I’ll remain loyal. Among all the beings and creatures I’ve met in my lifetime, you remain an enigma. You’re human, but at the same time, you’re different. There continues to be so much I do not know of you. I wonder, could you hear me whenever I spoke to your plaything? Do you recall the stories I told, of my time as a reckless youth? Foolhardy, wild, that I was. But I was also fiercely loyal. For the Draconias, I razed down all foes like wheat in a field.

Now that I consider it, perhaps it's best if you hadn’t heard me recount those tales. While I had been eager to share with you my experiences and act out my thrilling adventures, perhaps my story telling was much too graphic. I wouldn’t want the vivid details of bloodshed to be cause for alarm as our most recent encounter was far from pleasant. You have to forgive me, sometimes I get carried away when narrating my accomplishments and exploits. I’ll share more light-hearted memories with you the next time we meet.

Our first meeting with your true self really went abysmally, didn’t it? I know that things never really go as planned, so I don’t bother planning such things in advance. But, I had pictured it to be a lovely moment. Silver and Sebek would look at you with shining eyes and proclaim their loyalty as they had practiced vows over and over again for such an occasion, I would get to embrace your true form and unlock your secrets, and of course Malleus would be truly content for once as he finally received the company he deserved.

But, as expected, things didn’t go accordingly.

Those three youths are miserable, thinking of the proper words to pen, a way to apologize for the suffering they’ve caused. But now, we are the ones suffering because we hurt you.

They write and write, but tear their letters over and over again as they believe no words they’ve written so far are adequate. Soon they’ll realize that no words will ever be sufficient for an apology. Even if they were to create new words that are unheard of by any dictionary, it would not come close to being enough. That’s why I’ve decided to stick with this single attempt, because I already know that nothing I ever write will measure up to being acceptable.

There is something about you that always leaves me bemused. Your grace left me feeling dizzy and giddy, like I was experiencing a little crush again, although this was much more intense than any crush. The truth about your vessel controlled by you, had me perplexed as I had never heard of such a thing. And well, the disastrous chase that followed your arrival... you know that part well and could assume how I feel about that from what I’ve told you. At present, all I can do is remain loyal, for what my loyalty is worth to you. Beyond that, despite having an abundance of experiences, there is no such situation that could have prepared me for this moment.

Genuinely, I am stumped once again. I cannot even envision what can be done with my own two hands, that can be worthy of your attention once again and earn me redemption. But, you can be certain of one thing, and that is: my loyalty is undying. I still have a few years left in these old bones of mine, and I will use the rest of my life to serve you.

Whether you want me or not. If you still want me, I will be of use to you. Whatever you are in need of, a soldier, a plaything, a companion, or even someone to take out your anger on. I shall be it. If you don’t want me, I will still be there. I will always be there to smile and lift your spirits like you once did for me through your doll.

I eagerly wait for word from you.

Until we meet again soon,

Lilia Vanrouge

None of these letters were comforting in the slightest. In fact, they only placed you further on edge. For a moment, you considered stopping it here after only two and getting rid of the rest.

Grim by now had settled in your lap, and looked up at you with those watchful blue eyes. Had he been staring at you the entire time?

“Let me guess, they’re not taking it well?”

“No, not at all.” You answer with a grimace. If this was how they were like now, you didn’t even want to know how they acted when they found out your vessel stopped working over a week ago.

“Huh, sucks for them.” The feline stretched out, his claws poking out for a moment before quickly retracting as he plopped back down on his back with his stomach up. Maybe it was his own attempts to fill the silence, or to let you know you weren’t alone, but he eventually groaned. “Hey, read me one. I wanna know what they say.”

Unable to say no to your companion, you nodded slowly and smiled weakly, “Alright, alright, let’s see what we have here...”

You plucked out a random letter with neat packaging. However, just because the exterior was pretty, didn’t mean the interior message would be. You learned that already from the last two letters you had read.

This envelope looked somewhat similar to the last one, square-shaped and tied closed with string. However, instead of the knot of ribbons on it, it held a simpler gift. The brown rope around it was tied in a neat bow, and between the string were lavender stems with a small branch of wild berries.

Grim immediately indulged in the berries and the flowers, staining his little fangs and whiskers with the sweet sticky juice and purple petals. All the while exclaiming, “Oh, oh! I remember this letter. Some bird came to drop it and it flew away just before I could catch it...”

A short laugh escaped your lips as you hear him. “So that’s why you were grumbling this morning.”

Not wanting to be reminded again, he swat his paw at your nose as the feline hissed, “Shh! Just read already!”

Dear player,

I truly am deeply remorseful and I offer my sincerest apologies.

I was to be a knight, that has been something I have strived for ever since I was a child. A knight not just to serve Malleus but to protect others, and eventually I discovered my purpose was to serve you as well. But... all I did was stand idly by and watch the torment. Shortly after meeting your vessel, I had promised to shield you from all danger. I broke that promise.

I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been. Had just one person stop and thought things through, they may have realized the horrible mistake that was being made. Had I acted as soon as I felt the tug on my heart when I saw you weakened and on the dirt, I may have saved you from anymore pain.

Those eyes, your eyes, I see them in my sleep. You were scared, and through your gaze you were pleading for help, were you not? I see it every time I close my eyes. You witnessed it yourself, the very moment when I had failed you. You were right there, so close I could have extended a helping hand. But my grief rendered me sightless, all I could think of in that moment is how my heart ached and how I longed to see you again. Even if it was through your vessel. The rumors didn’t quite make any sense to me, as I wondered how could anyone possibly be so cruel as to tear you away from us?

Father had said that it would all be over soon. That capturing the imposter and bringing them to their knees, would make everything better. But when I saw you on the ground before we learned of your identity, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was alright. Would the player have wanted this? Would they have scorned upon witnessing the scene? Would this undoubtedly end the throbbing pain I felt in my heart? The pain was becoming unbearable, and I was not the only one to feel it. The news made little sense to me. Sebek insisted that it was true, and Father seemed to believe so as well. However, that is no excuse for how I went along as if it were okay.

You were innocent and helpless, you, the player, not only witnessed the scene but were the victim. I’m so sorry, I should have done something... If it were the only way to gain your forgiveness, I would spend every moment of my waking hours writing letters of apology. To do so I would keep myself awake for as long as humanely possible. If asked, I would use every moment to pen these letters, each different from the last. Although after several attempts in redoing this single letter, I realize that it would be a pointless endeavor.

After reflecting, the only way to make up for what I have do is be patient.

Be patient and await for word from you. I cannot force you, I cannot pressure you, I can only pause and prepare myself to do whatever I must in order to earn back your grace.

Please, do not keep me waiting too long. I know I have no right to ask you this. I’m willing to wait years if needed, but part of me has this fear that I will never regain a spot near your heart until I’m frail and feeble with age. Rest assured, even in old age, I would be willing to be your knight. Even if my bones ached, I would raise my sword and shield. If I couldn’t use my weakened legs, I would call upon a horse to be my steed. And if I were to become magicless, I would use the remainder of my physical strength to serve you.

If I may be honest with you? I have no idea what to do. Yes, I said I would wait, but what else can I do? What can I do to eventually secure a place beside you, if it were possible? In times of trouble I normally turn to Lilia and Malleus for advice, however, I am a bit unsettled by their approach to this delicate matter. Truthfully, I am anxious, but while they share the sentiment, they are oddly confident that things will turn out alright in the end. I am unsure how they can muster the self-assurance to quell their fears. Maybe they know something that I do not, and have decided not to share this secret for now...

Nevertheless, for now I’ll eagerly anticipate the day we can reunite just as I have dreamed. I greatly look forward to the second where not only I can see you smile once again and your eyes might finally look at me with content, but also the moment where all those I know might get the opportunity to be in your peaceful grace.

I’ve dragged this letter on for too long. If you were to take something away from this letter, let it be this: I will carry out your wishes. No matter what you may think of me, whether it be a positive or negative image in your mind, I will continue forward in your name. Even if you think me unfit for the title of knight, then consider me a humble servant instead. Nothing will shake my commitment, and I will do whatever it is you ask.

This is a pledge that will not be broken.

Cordially,

Silver

This letter felt a bit lighter than the others. Still, it was slightly intense in its own way, but it was nowhere near as extreme as the previous two were. And, maybe you had a better opinion on Silver, not because he was gentle with his words but because he was one of the very few who hadn’t threatened you, directly harmed you, or treated you cruelly.

But! He didn’t get a free pass just because of that. Yes, he may not have directly caused any harm, but he didn’t exactly help you either.

Grim had taken the letter from you, and inspected the paper in his paws. He held it above his head, scrunching up his nose a bit as he looked it over. “I dunno... he’s okay.”

At that, you roll your eyes a bit as a smirk crept up from the corner of your mouth. “You’re not just saying that because his letter came with a snack?”

“No! You think me easy to bribe? I think not! It would take a whole bucket full of berries just to get me to even discuss it. Then, I’d turn them down and take the berries anyways!” The feline proclaimed his brilliant plan should that situation ever arise. Maybe the gifts you allowed him to take were starting to get to his head. “But... he could be worse. Silver, as dumb as he was like everyone else, he did hear me out after they separated us.”

Silver did that? If that were true, it’s possible that he wasn’t as bad as the others who had wronged you.

“That’s... good to know.” You murmur as you pluck up another random envelope from the pile.

The last envelope you pick up before you planned to take a break was surprisingly plain. It was just that. A plain white envelope, sealed by green wax with what looked like a family crest that depicted a creature with fangs and scales. One of the corners was crinkled, as if it was gripped too tightly there.

As soon as you slid out the folded letter, you were bombarded by the ink. Whoever had wrote this, seemed like they applied too much force. This caused certain parts of some letters to be too round and heavy with ink that made those bits feel damp and stain your fingers the slightest bit. Like whoever wrote this, placed just as much pressure with their hands on the pen gliding across the page, as much pressure as they felt weighing on their mind.

Great Player,

As I pen this, I am on my hands and knees.

I have prepared a multitude of letters which I will send daily, so that now and in the future you will continue to hear my apology and know I truly mean it. One admission of regret is not enough. An apology is only an acknowledgment of an offense, it does not absolve one of their wrongdoings. I know this! So, I, Sebek Zigvolt, will atone by any means necessary!

To you, the player who I wronged and deserves nothing but happiness and perfection, I give my deepest sincerest profuse apology. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY. Right now when I look at my hands that I use to write, I’m reminded of the vicious way I grabbed you like some... heathen! These hands sullied your flawless self, and for that alone I will never forgive myself!

Had it not been for the wise words of Master Lilia and the bothersome yet logical reasoning from Silver, I would have been at your door everyday, every hour, begging for a second chance. In the midst of brainstorming, I presented my idea of crawling on hands and knees, from Diasomnia to the Ramshackle Dorm, to deliver the letter myself. Then, I would display whatever cuts or bruises formed on my palms and knees which I would receive from the rocky roads or thorns, that way you may see my devotion was true and no lengths are too great when it comes to you! No matter the pain or burden! The idea seems to appeal to Lord Malleus, but I was told that it comes off as too extreme...

But! I beg to differ!! I only consider it so that you may understand what I feel, so that you might comprehend the things I would do for you, and receive me back in your good graces! Additionally, delivering the letter in this manner would cause me as much or more physical pain than I caused you! It is a shame that things have come to this. I had wished so much for our first proper meeting to be one of joy where you might accept me as your knight! In spite of that, I will not falter in shame! If I were to deliver the following letters in that method I had detailed earlier, I would wear the scars proudly! It would be physical proof of my faithfulness towards you!

I am sorry, and I will continue to say it. Perhaps, this may be presumptuous of me, but if you consider it, Diasomnia did not torment you nearly as long as any other insolent dorm had! And! We retainers accompanied Lord Malleus every day to check on the wellbeing of your vessel, and watch over it while investigating various possible approaches on how to revive Yuu. We diligently did this until the moment we encountered your true self!

I swear to you, no one shall harm you from this moment forth!

From now on, I’ll march forward and see to it that you are never hurt ever again! This is something I know that my fellow dormmates will tirelessly work toward as well.

Have you realized that we have been guarding you and the serenity of your dorm in the past days? Have you not thought it strange that none have come to needlessly pester you? Yes, that is all thanks to the efforts of those in Diasomnia! Even when you do not realize it, we are insuring your welfare and the tranquility you require to recover! Of course, as much as I desperately want to inform you of the details, I will not. It is best you don’t know.

Now, I must be honest with you. Originally, I had planned this letter to be much longer and have contents that would have been much different than what you are currently reading. I aimed to be honest in my feelings! But before I could sign off on the original draft, I realized that the others may be in the right. It is possible that our devotion, my devotion, may come off as disquieting if I were completely sincere. I’ve had to restrain myself on many occasions, reminding myself to at least appear collected and controlled. That is not as easy as it sounds!

How could it be, when the one I must suppress my emotions and actions for, is you? That’s as if asking to repress part of my very soul and heart! I absolutely detest hiding it!! But when I remember this is for you and your own comfort, it becomes bearable. I can only hope that soon, very soon, I might be able to unveil my true sentiments towards you! As intense and extreme as they may be!

It seems that I’m nearing the word limit that they imposed. Once again, I apologize. I’ll have to contemplate new ways to write ‘sorry.’ I wish I could write a million more words for you! But even a million words wouldn’t be anywhere near a satisfactory amount for me to detail how much I revere you! And it would take more than another million words for me to write a full apology, but even then I wouldn’t be satisfied! No single letter is adequate enough, so be prepared to receive the rest I have written!

I will make sure they are delivered posthaste!

Faithfully,

Sebek Zigvolt

Great... you’re back to being unnerved again.

There was something about them all being so weirdly obsessed, but in vary different ways. Malleus and Lilia puzzled you, they had you feeling the most uneasy by far. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were both not human, they were arcane beings with enigmatic personalities and objectives that were incomprehensible to you.

Out of the four, Silver was the only one that was fully human like yourself, but even he was a bit of a mystery as he was raised by the fae. It was hard to be wary of him, which was probably because your distrust and fear of him wasn’t as intense as it was towards the others due to his good nature and lack of actions he took during the whole disaster.

As for Sebek, well, he was unnerving in his own right but it was nowhere near on the level that Malleus and Lilia were on. At the very least he wasn’t a complete mystery to you. It was easy to figure out his intentions, because he either said them or wore them on his sleeve.

Your mind was spinning as you looked over the four letters, filled with lines upon lines and more lines of pages. In that moment your breath quickened as you noticed the cloudy sky outside. For a brief second, you feared you would see that familiar flash of green lightning, taking you back to that dark day when you nearly died. It’s like you could feel Sebek’s hands tightly gripping the back of your skull that forced you against the earth, you saw Silver’s sorrowful gaze that spoke a thousand words you didn’t yet understand, you heard Lilia’s words hinting to a doomed fate of becoming some lifeless doll, and god, you couldn’t forget him even if you wanted to. Malleus. He was the worst of all. You felt his nails and fingers constricting around your neck and squeezing out all the air, you saw his haunting green eyes with those slit pupils as he glowered at you with such anger and hate, and you heard what you had thought would be the last words you ever heard come from his lips––

“Hey!”

You were torn out of those dark thoughts by the feline in your lap. A concerned frown tugged at Grim’s lips, but once he saw he had your attention, he mustered a slight grin as he held up what looked like an armful of snacks. At least, as much as he could carry in his small paws. From his grin, you could see his little fangs still covered in the remnants of the berries and flower petals.

“Look, I found your favorite! This is getting boring, so let’s just take a break!”

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i-cant-sing · 7 months

Text

Yandere Royal Gay AU pt 8

Part 7 is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more.

You didn't want to open your eyes.

You had woken up a while ago and realised you were back home when you heard your father's voice. He was singing to you, more humming than actually saying the words but... you recognised the lullaby. It was something he used to hum to you when you were sick or couldn't sleep as a child.

It was incredibly personal, one of the few memories that you cherished with him.

So why did he have to do it in front of Keigo?

It took every fibre in your being to not get up and strangle him while pulling his eyeballs out.

"You have a soothing voice." Keigo whispered from your side, brushing your hair with his hand, while you clawed the sheets from under the covers.

Dabi smiled, feeling perfectly content now that he had his most precious treasures in front of him, safe and sound. "How are you feeling now? Do your wings still hurt?"

"Not as much. Emperor Kai's healers did their magic. I'll be flying again in no time." Keigo sighed as he looked at you. "Its her I'm more worried about, Dabi."

"Why? Kai already healed any minor injuries she had-"

"Physically, yes, she's healed. But what about mentally?"

"What about it?" Dabi pushed, eyes narrowing. Keigo sat up straighter. "Dabi, regardless of what AFO did or that you saved her-" "we saved her, Keigo." "- right. Regardless, she... she will be affected by all of it. That was her mother's homeland, her people, and AFO was her grandfather. You and I both know Y/n isnt one to just- just hate anyone or hold grudges. She'll be crushed by AFO's death, or all those villagers deaths. I mean, you did see how she reacted to Tomura's death-"

"That's enough." Dabi snapped, voice barely containing the rage he felt. "You will never speak of those names again, Keigo. What happened to them, what I did to them- it was a kindness! A mercy compared to the punishment that they deserved and would've gotten if it weren't for Y/n being there."

"But Y/n-"

"We will take care of Y/n. You and me, together will help her forget about those traitorous bastards and everything will return to normal." Dabi closed his eyes, pausing before opening them again. "We are all that she needs, Keigo. Now more than ever."

The blonde smiled softly before moving off the bed and over to Dabi, the latter gently pulling the blonde into his lap, hands cautiously settling on the base of his wings.

"I never doubt you, Dabi." Keigo whispered as he kissed him. "I trust you with my life, and Y/n's." Dabi smiled against his lips. He adored how protective Keigo was over you, and he's the only one who is allowed to be possessive over you.

"I know, love." Dabi murmured, tightening his grip on the blonde's hips when he tried to move. "Where are you going?"

"Gonna make something for Y/n to eat."

"The kitchen staff-"

"-will mess it up,I just know it. Just let me handle this Dabi. I'll be back soon, hm?"

Dabi sighed. "Dont take too long." He watched him leave before turning back towards you, taking your hand in his as he resumed humming the lullaby.

He traced his thumb over your wrists, staring at it absentmindedly as his mind went back to the events of the battlefield, heart swelling up with joy at his victory over AFO and his entire kingdom. His lips quirked up slightly as he recalled the screams of the people burning.

They deserved it.

They deserved it and so much more for what they did to you, for taking away his one and only child and torturing you in god knows what horrendous way they came up with.

Isn't that why you looked so miserable and devastated at the battlefield?

Dabi's eyes flicked to your face, widening when they met your own.

You were awake.

"Y/n!" Dabi squeezed your hand before getting up to sit on your bed. Taking your face in his hands as he looked at you with concern. "I- are you okay? How are you feeling now?"

Hollow eyes stared at him, your mouth remained sealed shut as you looked at him. But just before it creeped Dabi, you blinked and then tears started to fall down your face.

Dabi immediately (but gently) pulled you to his chest, practically sitting you in his lap like a child, arms wrapping themselves around you like a warm cocoon to calm you down as he continued to look down at you with even more worry when great sobs racked your body.

"Y/n? Oh baby- its okay, its okay! You're fine." He pulled your face away from his chest, cradling your face in his hands as his thumbs wiped away the tears from your cheeks. "No one is mad at you. I am not mad at you, more concerned is all. When you went missing, I- I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead and it hurt, Y/n. It hurt me that you died hating your father, and I never want that. I just-" Dabi closes his eyes and sighs before opening them. "I dont blame you for your actions. You ran away because of me, and while that may not have been the wisest decision, I understand and... I forgive you. You were misled by people you trusted, and they paid for their actions. Now, I want us to start anew again. Put everything behind us and become a happy family again. You, me and Keigo, together against the world, hm? How does that sound?" You all but wailed louder at the mention of that whore's name, but Dabi just percieved it as you being overwhelmed and pulled you tighter against his chest.

With one hand rubbing circles in your back while the other was carded in your hair, Dabi kissed your temple, smiling softly as you cried hard into him.

"Its okay. Let it all out, Y/n. I've got you, baby. I've got you."

And I'm never letting go. Ever.

Dabi left once you'd calmed down, saying that he was going to inform Keigo that you were finally awake. You of course, would rather gouge out your eyes than meet that murderer, but that idea was thrown out the window when your nanny knocked on your door, Inko looking visibly surprised to see you awake.

She all but rushed over to hug you, tears falling from her eyes as she pulled away from you suddenly, bowing her head as she apologised for touching you. You smiled sadly before opening up your arms, and Inko hugged you again. She was allowed to drop royal protocol, the woman had practically raised you.

A few minutes later and you heard Keigo and Dabi walking in the hallway. You pulled away from Inko and told her to tell them that you were taking a bath.

"Please! Just tell them you drew me a bath, I- I-" Inko didn't need to be told twice as she ushered you towards the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind her, right in time for Dabi and Keigo to barge in.

"Where is she?! Where's Y/n?" Keigo asked, whipping his around for you, as if you'd be hiding somewhere. Inko bowed, greeting the two men, raising her head only to see Keigo looking at her impatiently and Dabi raising a brow at her.

"Well?"

"The princess is taking a bath, your Majesty. I had recommended it to help heal her wounds better-" She began lying, but Dabi cut her off.

"Let me know when she's ready. Dress her in soft clothes, I want her to be comfortable. You will take care of it, hm?" Dabi ordered, and Inko bowed her head in obedience.

"Of course, your Majesty."

"Come on, Keigo. She'll be back soon. Why don't you continue making her lunch? We'll all eat here." Dabi suggested, his hand on Keigo's back guiding him out of the room.

You sighed as you heard them leave, closing your eyes as it dawned that you had escaped facing Keigo but only momentarily.

Inko entered the bath, smiling apologetically as she knew that you didn't like Keigo.

"I'll draw you a bath, princess. Why don't you wait on the bed, hm?" You nodded, going to sit on your bed just as someone else knocked on the door.

You nodded at Inko and she opened the door to see who it was before harshly whispering at someone to leave.

"Who is it?" You asked, standing up. Inko looked back at you apologetically before pushing the door open and revealing-

"Izuku." You whispered. Your childhood best friend was wearing his Knight armour as he beamed brightly at you.

"Princess." He greeted. "May I come in?" He asked only to be whacked on his head by his mom. "Izuku! She's busy and besides, the Princess needs to rest-"

"Its alright, Inko. He can come in." You nodded, as the woman let out a sigh of relief before going back to drawing you the bath.

Izuku walked towards you and you motioned for him to sit down next to you on the bed. "Its been a while." He started. You hummed. "It has. And I'm sorry."

Izuku gave you a quizzical look. "What for?"

"For how I treated you before I left." You looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers. "For snapping at you. That was uncalled for-"

Izuku grabbed your hands, his large rough ones engulfing yours. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Y/n." You shook your head. "I want to." You whispered, as your voice turned wobbly. "I don't want to lose- I cant- T-Tomura-" Izuku pulled you into a hug before your tears could fall. He patted your back and hushed you. "Shh, you won't lose me. I promise, I won't go anywhere."

You sat on your bed uncomfortably with Keigo and Dabi in the room. The maids had brought up a small table and chairs with food to your room, since Dabi thought it'd be best to dine here while you rest. You however, can't rest as long as that murderer is in the room.

Sure, Dabi killed your grandfather and killed many of the villagers, but you could see where he was coming from. Your father's reaction was somewhat reasonable since his daughter, his only heir, was kidnapped and he didn't know whether you were being tortured or dead. And you can see it however you want, but deep down you blame Keigo for AFO's death.

You blame him for the villagers deaths.

You blame him for your mother's death.

You blame him for Tomura's death.

"How's your soup?" Dabi asked.

"Its good." You said without looking up from your plate, just like the past 20 minutes. You can't bare to bring yourself to look up at him, unsure if your heart will break more at the sight of him whoring to your dad or if you'll end up raging and kill him on the spot.

"Of course it is. Keigo made it himself for you." Dabi locked eyes with the blonde, who blushed. "Dont you wanna say thank you?"

Here we go again.

There was a audible shift in the energy of the room. The tension could be cut with a knife, as Dabi once again forced you to interact with Keigo.

Keigo leaned towards the king. "Dabi, I don't think that's necessary-"

"Thank you." You said, finally looking up and directly at Keigo, a small courteous smile on your lips. "It tastes delicious. Thank you for going out of your way for me."

Keigo's mouth parted in shock, this was- this was the first time you looked at him with genuine respect- talked to him nicely. Even Dabi was surprised at your change in behaviour, he didn't expect you to actually be grateful, maybe spat out a forced thanks with a grimace but not this, not you actually finishing the bowl of soup.

"I- oh, it's no trouble. I'm glad you liked it." Keigo managed to say, looking at Dabi with confusion, but the king only grinned.

He was glad you were coming around, beyond happy that you were going to turn over a new leaf with him.

It's about time.

Just then, a guard came in, apologising for interrupting but requesting the king's attention for an urgent matter.

Dabi left, promising to return soon with letters from Enji and grandma Rei, and his siblings.

Keigo cleared his throat as the two of you were left alone. "Oh, you finished your soup! I'll give you some more- oh, where are you going?" He asked, watching you peel the covers away and get off the bed. "To the bathroom? Let me help you-" He moved to grab your hand but you snatched it away, before continuing to move to the bathroom.

You didn't close the door behind you, perhaps you wanted him to follow you if you fell or something. But when you got on your knees in front of the toilet bowl and locked eyes with him, Keigo knew he wasn't going to like what he was about to see.

In the next second, you had shoved fingers down your throat and gagged until you induced vomiting, emptying your stomach out.

Keigo rushed towards you, eyes wide in horror as he asked why did you do that. But you didn't answer him. Instead, you called out to Inko (who intentionally pushed Keigo away from you when she saw you on the floor, looking faint and out of breath).

"Princess! Are you alright? Should I get the physician?" You shook your head.

"No, just- just had some disgusting soup that made me sick. Could you- could you do me favour and get rid of it? I swear, just the smell of it in my room is making me lurch again." You commented while looking at Keigo.

Inko only nodded as she helped you back in bed before taking out all the food in your room, but not before asking Keigo to leave.

"My apologies, sir, but I think it'd be best to let the princess rest for now." She said, not sounding sorry at all, practically blocking his view of you as she stood in front of him, eyes staring into him boldly.

Had Keigo not been shocked by your actions, he would've had smacked her across the face for such blatant disrespect.

But Keigo left silently. He needed to process what just happened.

Two more weeks passed by, and you had received many letters from your loved ones and friends. Your father was still far too paranoid or perhaps it was his possessiveness that didn't allow you to have any visitors. The option of you stepping out of the castle was out of the question, even you knew that. But he could've let your grandparents see you, or even your friends who were actually there with him on the battlefield.

At least uncle Shotou was here. He sat by your side on a chair, while you were in your bed, back propped up against the headboard.

"They're all worried about me." You mumbled as you opened another letter. "I feel bad making them worry over me. Don't you think I should meet them to let them know I'm well?"

Shotou nodded. "I agree with you but your father still hasn't budged from his decision. He says that it's just not safe yet for you to meet people, and that you should still rest until you're better."

"But I am better! Any minor injuries that I sustained have healed ages ago." You whined. "Its just- its frustrating being alone in this castle!"

He tilted his head slightly. "You're not alone, Y/n. You have me, your father, the servants, the knights-"

"You know what I mean." You sighed. "Its okay if he doesn't want me too meet anyone else, but can't I at least visit... mum? I can go with him, or you, or even the guards- I just- I just need to see her! It's been too long."

Shotou heaved a sigh. "I had brought it up to Dabi, but... he said no."

You remained quiet for a few moments, looking down at your lap as your brows furrowed.

"He's mad at me." You mumbled.

Shotou's head shot up. "Y/n?"

You nodded, sniffling a little. "He's mad at me. That's why he won't let me meet anyone. That's why he won't let go see mom. He- he thinks it's my fault that I was with AFO." You bit your lip. "And it is. I did run away from him. But only because I was mad at him. I thought that some time away from each other would heal our problems. But... nothing changed. If anything, we're more far apart than we were before. He- he's punishing me. And people are getting hurt because of that- because of me-"

Shotou cut you off by holding your face and turning you to him. "Y/n, this isn't your fault. None of it is. And your dad, he's not mad at you. He's not punishing you. He's just- its just taking him some time to cope with all of this. You have to see where he's coming from, hm? He lost you- he thought you were dead. And now that he got you back, he's just- he doesn't want anything to hurt you, anyone to take you away from him again." He said, which made you cry even more and Shotou pulled your head to his chest, patting your back as your tears wet his garments.

After Shotou left your room, he went upto Dabi's office, hoping to convince him to let you meet Rei and Enji at least. But before he could knock, he overheard Keigo's moans and he immeadiately turned on his heel and left, hands clenching into fists at the thought of that disgusting whore.

He reached his room and sat on his desk, thinking of what to do to help you. Even if Keigo wanst there, Shotou doubts Dabi would've listened to him. So... if he wasn't going to do something, then maybe Shotou could help you?

You are the princess after all, the next heir to the throne. It is his duty to help you in whatever way possible.

Pulling out a sheet of paper, Shotou grabbed his quill and began writing away.

Keigo and Dabi laid in each others arms, Keigo's hand resting on Dabi's bare chest while the latter played with the blonde's hair.

"What's on your mind?" Dabi asked.

Keigo raised his brows and shook his head. "Nothing much."

"You should know better than to lie to your king by now, hm?" Dabi commented before asking again. "Come on, tell me."

Truthfully, Keigo was concerned over his last interaction with you. Why were you so hostile towards him? But earlier, in front of Dabi, you were so nice to him.

Keigo sighed, nuzzling closer to Dabi. "I'm just concerned about Y/n."

Dabi softly smiled. He liked it when Keigo worried over you.

"She'll be fine, Kei. She just needs to adjust to everything. Time heals all wounds." Keigo didn't reply and Dabi could see that he was still thinking about you. When you were gone, Dabi felt like this was the end of the world. He could only imagine the heartbreak Keigo was going through. They both loved you, and now that they had you back, their anxiety didn't go away completely. They still couldn't believe it, that you were still alive and well with them. In fact, the first night after they brought you home, Dabi didn't sleep a wink. No, he kept on checking in on you. Keigo, despite his injuries and heavy medication, was in a similar state.

"Why don't you go and check in on her? It'll put your mind to ease." Dabi offered, sitting up to pour himself some wine. Keigo nodded happily as he pulled away, kissing Dabi's cheek before wrapping a robe around him and scurrying out of the room, the king chuckling at the sight.

Even when you were a kid, Keigo often found himself watching over your sleeping form, something about it made him feel at peace. To see you safe and sound, in arms reach to protect you from any harm that should befall you... perhaps that's exactly what Keigo needed at the moment.

He made his way to your room, the guards at your door knew not to stop him- it was Dabi's orders. Keigo softly knocked on your door, waiting to see if you're still awake. After a few moments of silence, he slowly opened the door and crept inside.

There you were, lying on your side, tucked under the floral covers that reached upto your nose. Your hair sprawled out over the pillow, a few wisps framing your face under the glow of the lantern in the room. Your lips were slightly parted and Keigo smiled at how you looked the same as you did when you were a baby.

He walked closer and brushed the hair out of your face, and leaned down to kiss your forehead as his hands pulled the covers closer to you. He turned to leave but halted when he heard a whimper.

He looked at your face, which was now scrunched up as if in pain. Before he could do anything, you started mumbling frantically, your head moving side to side, your voice turning loud as your words became audible.

"No! No! Stop, Im sorry- STOP! STOP! STOP! KEIGO STOP-!" Keigo rushed to wake you up from your nightmare, only for your eyes to snap open as you began thrashing in his arms, pushing away from him as you began screaming for help, tears streaming down your face as you backed away so far that you fell off the bed, still shrieking for him to get away, just in time for the Dabi to burst in your room with your guards.

"DAD!" You yelled, your body shaking as he made his way towards you. "HE'S GOING TO KILL ME! HE'S GOING TO KILL ME!" You cried out, pointing at Keigo.

"Y/n, honey, calm down. He's not going to hurt-" Dabi tried to console you, taking your shoulders in his hands but you were inconsolable. He looked at Keigo, and the blonde saw the slightest flicker of doubt- no, accusation; an incriminating look in those cerulean eyes.

"I didn't do anything, Dabi. She was having a nightmare and-" he tried to explain himself, something he didn't think he'd need to do with Dabi.

"HE'LL KILL ME! HE'LL KILL ME! HE'LL KILL ME LIKE HE HE KILLED TOMURA!" You continued rambling on, tears streaking your cheeks, not taking your eyes off Keigo for a moment, as if afraid that he'd strike you at a chance.

Dabi looked at your face, concern arising at the raw fear in your eyes. Its only when a trail of crimson left your nose and your chest began heaving heavily did Dabi finally say the words.

"Keigo, leave."

The blonde took a step closer towards you. "No Dabi, I can help-"

Dabi snapped his head back at him and with unbridled rage in his face, he yelled at him.

"I'M ORDERING YOU TO LEAVE! NOW!"

Keigo's heart shattered at the venomous tone, and his face showed it. But right now, Dabi was more concerned about his daughter not having a panic attack or passing out. He could worry about Keigo later, you were the priority now.

You're the priority.

As Keigo left, Dabi picked you up and placed you back in your bed, promising to spend the night by your side. With the way your eyes remained wide open, he was worried you wouldn't sleep. But sleep finally overcame you as you were held by Dabi, your head lying on his warm chest, barely hiding the coy smile as he told the guard to inform Keigo that he won't be returning to bed tonight.

The next morning, when you woke up, you were still curled up in Dabi's lap. True to his word, he stayed with you the entire time, and it didn't seem like he slept much.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked, eyes slightly tired from the lack of sleep.

"I'm better, thank you." You whispered, getting off his lap. You looked up at him, brows knitting together as you tried to think of what to say next, or about last night. "I- last night... I-"

He waved you off. "We'll talk after breakfast. I think you're well enough to join us in the dining hall, hm?" You nodded as he got up and walked closer to you, cupping your cheek with one hand as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"My precious." He smiled before leaving your room, right in time for Inko to come in to help you get ready for breakfast.

Dabi returned to his room where he wasn't surprised to see Keigo pacing around, worriedly. From the dark circles and red eyes, Dabi figured the blonde hadn't slept.

"Dabi, I am so sorry-" He started but was cut off by Dabi wrapping his arms around him.

"Its okay. Not your fault." He sighed, pulling away to kiss Keigo on the lips. But the blonde wanted to still clarify himself.

"I didn't do anything, Dabi- she just- she had a nightmare and I was just trying to he'll her-"

"I know, Keigo. I know." Dabi stared into his scared eyes and his gaze softened. "But you need to understand that when I tell you to do something, you do it without question. Without a second thought. Y/n is- she's still a child, as much as she pretends to be a grown up, deep down all of these events have scarred her in way or another. We have to give her time and we have to help her, hm?"

Keigo only nodded before resting his head on Dabi's chest, wanting to be comforted as well.

"Let's eat, hm?"

The three of you sat on the dining table, eating in awkward silence. You and Keigo didn't meet each other's eyes, Dabi kept looking between you two, hoping one of you would finally start talking.

He cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry-!" You and Keigo said together. You spoke again before he could (as you should, according to royal protocol. But everyone knows the King's favourite isn't one to follow rules.)

"I am sorry, for how I behaved last night, Keigo. I- I was having a nightmare and-" you sighed. "-Its not your fault. I reacted very poorly and I shouldn't have pushed you away or been afraid of you, I just- I just-" Dabi grabbed your hand and squeezed it affirmatively when he saw remorse in your eyes.

"Its okay, really. I didn't mind it, and I know it wasn't your fault either. But I have to ask... was the nightmare about me?" Keigo asked cautiously.

You looked up at him before looking away, eyes slowly welling up with tears. That was enough of an answer for him and Keigo could feel his heart drop at the thought of you being afraid of him.

"I am- I think I just need- I need some time to get used to you again..." you say.

Dabi hummed, giving a quick glance to Keigo who nodded begrudgingly as well.

"Well, now that this topic is over, I was thinking of sharing some good news." Dabi said, making the two look at him. "Since you seem to be in good health, I was thinking you could visit your mother. What do you think?"

"Really?" You whispered in disbelief.

Dabi nodded. "Of course, I'd be accompanying. Don't want you fainting or-" you cut him off by a big hug and loads of "thank you's".

He let you be excused so that you could get ready while Keigo watched him with a slightly hurt expression in his eyes.

"So... I shouldn't come with you two?" He asked in a low tone.

Dabi met his eyes and held his gaze before softening them. "I think some space between you both would benefit for her. After last night, I don't think she's strong mentally, Keigo. Her mother is a sensitive topic as it is... I can't risk her having another episode like last night."

Keigo stared at his plate before nodding, not meeting his eyes. "I understand. E-excuse me." He left the room.

Dabi knew being apart from you was the last thing Keigo ever wanted but... he could make him understand later. For now, Dabi needs to focus on you.

"Thank you." You said to your father who was behind you, holding the reins of his horse you rode on together. He insisted on sharing one ride, and you felt closer to him while he felt content now that you were in his arms, safe and secure.

"What for?" Dabi asked.

"Everything." You looked down at your hands and then ahead at the road. "For going with me to see mom. And for taking care of her grave. For last night, when you held me."

Dabi smiled and kissed the top of your head.

Soon you two had reached the castle and were getting off the horse when Shotou came out beaming.

"Someone is waiting for you-"

"Y/N!" Rei yelled as she dropped royal protocol and practically ran down the stairs of the entry door to hug you. "My child!" She began crying into your shoulder as her arms squeezed your form so hard that it almost began to hurt.

"Honey, you're going to break her." A familiar voice said, making you pull back from Rei.

"Grandpa!" You squealed as the older man caught you when you jumped, spinning you around as you buried your face into his neck, arms barely reaching around his broad shoulders.

"My doll, my little princess." He cooed as he kissed your forehead, his own eyes getting a little misty.

"Enji, stop hogging her." Rei smacked his arm.

He frowned. "Honey, I'm not hogging her-"

"Yes, you are!" Someone yelled as they yanked you out of his arms and into their own. "I've missed you so much, my baby!" She cried as she rubbed her cheek against yours.

"Hello, Aunt Fuyumi." You chuckled as you patted her arms to let go but she held you tighter. Fortunately, Dabi came to your rescue.

"You're hurting her, Fuyumi." He said as he pulled you away and behind him. Fuyumi gave him a quick bow and "Your Majesty." Before punching his shoulder. "I was worried about you! Would it have killed you to write back to me?!"

"I've been... busy." He replied. "Besides, I needed some alone time with my daughter before you came to hog her."

"I can't help it that she's my favorite neice!" Fuyumi defended.

"I'm your only neice..." you mumbled from behind Dabi. "Also, Where's uncle Natsuo-"

A loud crash was heard, making Dabi immeadiately turn and push you behind him. Of course, speak of the devil and the devil shall-

"I'm here!" Natsuo huffs as he gets off the horse he just crashed into some poor guards (their unconscious bodies are being dragged away).

He walks up the steps and quickly bows to his parents and Dabi before locking eyes with you and manically grinning as he lifts you up in his arms and spins around, making you chortle as you slap his arms to slow down.

"Oh youre a sight for sore eyes, you little brat!" He came to halt and you had to grab his arms to stabilise yourself. He pinched your nose, making you whine. "I'm never letting you go alone now! Gonna take you to battles with me, if I have to. Missed you too much."

You smiled sweetly at him. "I missed you too, uncle."

The Todoroki clan had decided to stay a week or two over at Dabi's castle, much to his dismay. Of course he doesn't like the fact that Enji and the rest of his family will be breathing down your neck, but Shotou convinced him to let them spend time with you here rather than whisking you away to Enji's kingdom where it'll be harder for Dabi to keep an eye on you (and not to mention the trauma he still hasn't recovered from since that was the place he lost you last time).

While you were being coddled and spending some quality time with the Todoroki clan, Keigo was finding ways to stay out of their way. He had initially greeted them when they arrived, but from their cold attitude and death stares, he'd much rather be ignored by them. And it's not like he or Dabi doesn't know how the royal family dislikes Keigo, so Dabi would often leave you with his family while he went to console his lover.

By the end of the week, as much Dabi wouldn't like to admit, you had looked much better and healthier since his family came. You looked happier, brighter. They were all having dinner together in the big dinning hall. Dabi sat at the head of the table, Rei to his right, then you and then Enji because of course your grandparents want you squished between them. Fuyumi, Natsuo and Shotou sat to Dabi's left.

"Baby you need to eat more! I could see your ribs from here." Rei said as she put another serving of food on your plate.

"But I'm full-"

"No, you're not. Now eat those veggies, I don't need your pretty hair falling out." Rei cooed as you begrudgingly followed her orders. She then narrows her eyes at Dabi. "You too Dabi, eat your veggies. Only drinking wine isn't healthy!"

Dabi hummed nonchalantly. "Yes, mom." He said, eyes trained towards the door. He sighed before beckoning a servant, whispering something to him. The servant nodded obediently and left.

"Aww, are you really going to eat veggies? What a good mama's boy you are." Natsuo teased, only to be whacked on the head by Fuyumi.

"Yeah, I'm having them bring more food." Dabi smiled.

A few minutes later, the hall doors opened and in walked-

Concubine Keigo.

The man who had been good at hiding himself for the better part of the week, was now walking towards Dabi. He bowed to him first, before bowing to the rest of the family. Even though his siblings masked their displeasure at seeing Keigo, his parents, especially Rei, made no such efforts.

She threw a nasty look when Dabi had someone bring a chair and seat Keigo next to him.

"You're going to eat with us?" Rei asked, not holding back the disgust in her tone.

"Mother." Dabi warned.

"What?" Rei shrugged, slicing her steak elegantly. "I'm just curious. I thought this was a family dinner."

Dabi's eyes darkened. "He is family." He looked at Keigo before bringing his hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "And if he wasn't before, he will be now."

The table had went dead silent as they all looked at Dabi, anticipating the bomb he was about to drop on them. Somehow, you already knew you were going to dread the news he was about to share.

"We're getting married."

And just like that, the curtain of happiness drops, your world shatters.

"I was going to wait a few more weeks before announcing, but since Y/n had been feeling better and you all came, I decided now would be the best time. I had proposed to Keigo long before Y/n was kidnapped-" you stopped hearing after that, you couldn't even if you tried. Your heart was beating too fast, too loudly for you to hear anything.

Is your father really going to marry Keigo? The man who killed your mother? The man who killed Tomura? Did Dabi even care about you anymore-

"Y/n?" Dabi called. Under the table, Enji held your hand and gave it a squeeze, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You looked at Dabi and Keigo, who were holding hands.

"Congratulations." You smiled. "When's the date?"

Everyone was surprised at your composure, Keigo who was holding his breath finally sighed in relief while Dabi looked proudly at you.

You've really matured.

"Well, we were thinking later this week, since everyone is still here. What do you say, Y/n?" Dabi asks, sipping his wine.

You hummed. "Very wise. Let me know if I could be of any help." The dinner soon ended, and you could feel everyone's eyes on you (except for Dabi and Keigo, they were looking at each other like they wanted to rip their clothes off).

Instead of joining the family in the garden for a walk, you excused yourself and left for your room. And only after you had closed your door did you finally let the tears fall.

How could he do this to you? How could your father marry that murderous skank? Was it to show you up? To teach you a lesson? It couldn't possibly be- because he loves Keigo, could it?

"No." You whispered harshly, as you sat on your bed. If this marriage happens, it'll put Keigo in a much powerful position, and it'll br far harder for you to take him down.

And not to mention, by law, you would have to bow down to him.

Concubines never get to be more superior than legitimate heirs, but since Keigo was already a favourite, and your lack of a quirk makes everyone question your legitimacy as a heir and a ruler, you have no doubt that Dabi will make you kneel to his slut.

Someone knocked on your door. "Come in." You said, fixing yourself.

It was Rei and Enji, concerned looks etched on their faces. Looking at them, you couldn't help the tears that welled up.in your eyes again.

"Oh honey~" Rei cooed with open arms as she hugged you, letting you sniffle into her gown.

"I- I'm sorry-" you tried to say, as you pulled away only for Rei to pull you closer to her. She sat on your bed and positioned herself in a way so that you could lay your head in her lap.

"You don't have to be brave anymore, Y/n." Rei said as she ran her finger through your hair. Your tears slipped down your face as you watched Enji sit on the foot end of your bed, taking your feet in his lap and rubbing your ankles.

"None of this is your fault, Y/n." Rei said. "I still want to go and yell at Dabi for even letting that whore sit with us, let alone marrying him-"

"Rei." Enji warned.

She huffed. "Your grandpa says that wouldn't be wise." She kissed your cheek. "How about you come with us? Hm? I can talk with Dabi and convince him to let you come with us until the wedding is over-"

"No!" You shook your head frantically. The last time you went away, your father proposed to Keigo. Who knows what that blonde will do this time when you leave. Take away all of your mother's belongings? Kick you out? Make Dabi question your legitimacy?

"I- I already told them I'd be here to help them. Besides, I shouldn't be away from my father on this joyous occasion. Really, I'm happy for him- for them." You wiped your tears away as Enji and Rei looked at you with pity. "I just- I just miss mom a little."

They stayed with you the rest of the night.

After the announcement to the family, Dabi had announced of his wedding to his kingdom. The news had gotten mixed reactions, they cheered and congratulated Dabi out of fear, while also throwing pitiful looks your way, hushed whispers about "poor princess Y/n". Good thing was that you spent most of your time in your room, so you didn't have to bear the embarrassment much.

You were standing in Dabi's office. He'd called you, and Keigo was there too. You didn't think it would be possible for them to be more closer and show more disgusting displays of affection, but here they are, shamelessly eating each others faces.

"Y/n! How have you been?" Dabi asked as Keigo got off his lap, giving a quick squeeze to his bum (you wanted to burn your eyes with acid).

"I'm well, thank you." You smiled, trying to contain the contents of your gut. "You asked for me?" Might as well come to the topic before they start doing more...stuff.

"Ah yes. Well, since the wedding is approaching, I wanted to ask if you'd like to be the maid of honour?" He said, shuffling through some papers- invites.

"You want me to be your maid of honor-?"

"Mine? No. I have Natsuo. I was asking if you'd like to be Keigo's, since he has no one to walk him down the aisle, Keigo suggested you. And you two are close, so it seems like a good idea, no?" He said in a tone that made it seem more like an order than a question.

How could he ask you that? Has your father lost his mind? Is he that horny to not give a shit about his own daughter?

You looked at Keigo, who was standing there with a chalice, his golden eyes piercing through you, a satisfied smile on his lips.

Of course, he'd convinced Dabi to suggest something as preposterous as this. Perhaps as a revenge for earlier.

"I think it'd be better if someone else stepped in. Perhaps one of the other concubines?" You offered. You'd much rather eat a bag of nails than let his filthy hands hold yours as you walk down the aisle.

"No, no. Keigo isn't close to any of the concubines. Besides, I think it'd show the rest of the world of our united front. Put all the rumours about conflict among you and Keigo to rest." Dabi said, deciding for you.

"Yes, your Majesty." You said, bowing as you left the room.

The next day was rehearsal day. The servants were working hard to decorate evey inch of the castle, making sure to prepare for guests from far and away, perhaps because Keigo told them that this was going to be "the biggest wedding of history."

You were standing in the church with Keigo holding your gloved hand. Just because Dabi said you have to walk him down the aisle, doesn't mean you need to touch him. The gloves were only the smallest barrier.

"Thank you for doing this for me." Keigo said as you both walked down the aisle towards Dabi. Every fiber of your being was screaming to rip yourself away from him.

"Anything for my father." Your lips formed into a tight lipped smile.

Ignoring your comment, Keigo asked you something even more cursed. "Have you thought of how you'd address me now that I'm marrying your father?"

Bitch. Skank. Whore. Pig. Murderer. Ostrich. Ass hat. Pile of shit. Slut-

"I have more important affairs to be concerned about." You said, dismissing the topic, but of course Keigo wouldn't let it go.

"Well, I have and I'd prefer if you'd call me dad or papa. Mama is also fine, but spare me the royal titles. I don't care for them and I don't want you to be formal with me. We're family now." Keigo said as you both reached Dabi who took Keigo's hand from yours, both leaning down to kiss your cheeks.

You wonder if his touch would still linger if you placed a hot iron poker.

You were walking towards your room, when you passed by your mother's. Opening the door, you saw Inko was there as well, going through your mother's closet.

"Princess!" She turned around, bowing to you with a gentle smile. "Look what I've found!" She showed you some dresses, your mother's beloved gowns, her tiaras, her jewellery.

"I was thinking that you could wear them on the wedding!" Inko said, as she pulled out a beautiful baby blue gown with jewels and sakura blossoms embroidered on it. "They should be of your size, bit I'm happy to make a few alterations to it if you'd like!"

You smiled as you tried on the gown, it fit you perfectly. "And if you pair it with this tiara and your mother's favourite ring!" She placed the white princess tiara on your head, along with the turquoise ring that had diamonds around it, with a gold band. "Your father gave it to your mother on their wedding night. Your mother adored this ring so much, she often said the turquoise stone reminded her of your father whenever he went away om wars." Of course it did remind her of Dabi, his eyes had the same colour as the stone.

"I'll wear this." You said as you admired yourself in the mirror, happy at how you resembled your mother. "Will you have them polished for me?" Inko nodded as she took the ring and tiara from you.

At least there's something you could look forward to at this awful wedding.

Guests had started arriving two days before the wedding. Few had been invited to stay at this castle, while others had rooms arranged for them at the other castles nearby.

You had insisted on at least letting your friends stay at the castle, but Dabi turned you down, saying something about security concerns. But he allowed them to visit you during the day.

"Katsuki!" You giggled as you hugged the barbarian king, who only lifted you up and twirled you around.

"Stop acting like a buffoon. Set her down, she's a princess, not a cat." Momo chided as she fanned herself. Katsuki only huffed as he set you down.

"Empress Yaoryuzu-" you started bowing but she hit the top of your head with her fan lightly.

"Forgetting how you're supposed to address me?" She asked, raising her brow at you. You sighed before giving a peck on her lips.

"Hey! What the heck that?!" Katsuki asked as he pulled you behind him. You placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. "Katsuki, it's just a traditional greeting in her land."

"Yes, but I don't expect uncultured barbarians to understand what traditions mean." Momo snickered.

"Alright, that's it-"

"Enough!" You yelled at them. "I have bigger matters to handle than to stop you two from fighting like children. So if you insist on bickering, please do it outside of this palace and on your own time. Do I make myself clear?" You glared at them as they finally nodded.

The "matters" that you need to handle are about you making sure that when Keigo marries Dabi, he doesnt get to sign a contract that states all about Keigo's new powers and "governing" opportunities. You need to make sure that Keigo doesn't get more power than needed, that he doesn't get a superior title to you, the legitimate heir, and that he doesn't get to add a clause or two that would benefit him and harm you.

A familiar servant passed by you, gave you a nod. Of course, you had initially thought of finding ways to stop the wedding altogether, so you had a servant bribe some concubines and knights to flirt with Keigo, if only to arouse rumours and better yet, catch him in a compromising position.

But you knew that with the wedding approaching, Keigo would be more cautious than ever, and it's not like Dabi would take off the veil of love off his eyes to even suspect that Keigo is cheating on him.

You sat in the garden after returning from the office, asking your uncle Shotou if the contract for marriage had been drawn up. He told you no, that its still in the works and should be coming in tomorrow evening, and when he asked why you wanted to know, you'd made some excuse about wanting to see whether your father was going to have new stamps made with Keigo's face in it.

He only chuckled, but both of you knew Dabi wouldn't be above doing such an abomination.

"What're you doing here alone, bub?" Dabi asked as he sat down next to you. "Everyone's inside, waiting for you."

You smiled softly. "Just... needed some air. Nothing to worry about."

Dabi hummed as he gazed ahead at the tree line. "I know everything is happening so fast and is hectic, so I haven't had the time to talk to you but-" He looked at you and smiled with soft eyes. "- I want to tell you how proud I am of you. For being so mature, for handling everything with such grace. I know this news wasn't easy for you, but I am grateful that you have accepted Keigo and have chosen to be a part of my happiness."

Chosen? There was never a choice.

You leaned your head on his shoulder. "Of course, dad. I will always love you."

He kissed your forehead. "And I, you."

The next day went by blur, mostly because of the guests and servants running rampant. Momo and Katsuki were in the backyard, away from the party, and you only spared a few glances when they began to duel. You couldn't deal with them right now, not when you had to go and read the marriage contract before Keigo could sign it.

You were on your way when you heard Inko arguing loudly with someone. For a sweet lady like her, it's not normal for her to yell at anyone. So, you went to check out the commotion first.

"THIS IS NOT THE JEWELLERY PIECES I SENT FOR YOU TO POLISH!" Inko said furiously, slamming her hands on the table. You peeked at the man she was yelling at, recognising him as the royal jeweller. "WHERE IS PRINCESS Y/N'S RING?!"

"I- um- they-" the man stumbled over his words as you finally let yourself in.

"Your Majesty!" They both bowed, as you waved them off. "What's the matter Inko? Where's my mother's ring?"

She shot a furious glare to the man, who cowered. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

You stepped forward and looked at the man with a calm smile. "Where's my ring? Did something happen to it? Did you lose it?" You asked and you could only imagine Inko's murderous intent if the man said that he did lose it.

"No, princess- I didn't lose it! The ring- the ring it's with- concubine Keigo!" You face never dropped as fast as it did in that moment.

"What? How is this possible?" You interrogated.

"After- after I took your jewellery from Inko, King Dabi had called me in to display all of the royal family's jewels, including yours! When he left the room, he told concubine Keigo to pick anything he'd like to wear in the wedding ceremony, and- well- he picked the late queen's ring, saying that it'd remind him of the King's eyes." He explained helplessly, but you had already left the room, storming up the stairs to take back your ring.

You didn't even have to go to Keigo's Chambers as you found the concubine standing in the hallway, a drunk blush on his cheeks, and wearing something glimmerd in the dim halls-

Your mother's ring.

"Y/n! I've been looking for you! Come, come to papa!"

All sense of logic and manners went out the window as you stormed towards him and slapped him so hard across the face, that he fell.

Keigo hadn't even begun to recover from the shock of being slapped when you began punching him.

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?" You screamed. "WAS IT NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU TO KILL MY MOTHER, TAKE HER THRONE, MARRY MY FATHER, THAT YOU HAD TO TAKE HER RING AWAY TOO?! THOSE ARE MY THINGS! THEY BELONG TO ME, YOU FUCKING SLUT!" You shrieked as Keigo tried to dodge your hits without hurting you.

His eyes went wide when you wrapped your hands around his throat and began choking him. "I'm going to fucking kill you! I'm going to end this for once and for all!"

"Y/N!" Someone yelled as they ripped you away from Keigo. "HAVE YOU FUCKING LOST IT!?" It was Dabi.

"YES!" You screamed. "I HAVE LOST IT, JUST LIKE YOU HAVE WHEN YOU DECIDED TO MARRY THAT FUCKING WHORE! IN FACT, I HAVE LOST A WHOLE LOT MORE THAN YOU! I HAVE LOST MY MOTHER BECAUSE YOU BROUGHT IN THAT FUCKING BITCH! I HAVE LOST MY GRANDFATHER BECAUSE YOU WERE BUSY SCREWING AROUND WITH THAT WHORE! I HAVE LOST MY ONLY FRIEND, BECAUSE YOUR MURDEROUS LITTLE SLUT DECIDED THAT I DO NOT DESERVE TO HAVE ANY HAPPINESS! AND I HAVE LOST MY MOTHER'S ONLY LEGACY BECAUSE YOUD MUCH RATHER GIVE IT TO YOUR NEW BED WARMER THAN TO ME!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Dabi yelled, getting dangerously close to your face. "I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANYMORE INSULT AND DISOBEDIENCE FROM YOU! TOMORROW IS OUR WEDDING-"

"FUCK YOUR WEDDING! EVERYONE KNOWS YOURE GOING TO BE MARRYING A MURDERER AND ID MUCH RATHER KILL MYSELF THAN BE A PART OF THAT SHITSHOW!" Dabi went silent at your words, deathly silent. Then... he chuckled as he looked over his shoulder at Keigo who was already shaking his head, as if to stop him before he does something he regrets.

"Its about time she knows, eh?" Dabi said as he laughed.

"Dabi, dont-" Keigo started, but you cut him off. "Know what?" You spat.

Dabi looked at you, and his eyes held a cruel expression.

"Keigo didn't kill your mother. I did."

You couldn't- couldn't process the words that had left his mouth. So, you made him repeat himself.

"What?" You whispered. Dabi knelt down to your level, leaned closer to you so you could look into his eyes and see he wasn't lying.

"I. Killed. Your Mother." He said slowly, as if talking to a child. "I hated your mother, and the only reason I had been putting up with her for so long was because she was taking care of you. But one day, she thought she could threaten me by saying that she was going to leave me. I told her fine, signed the divorce papers and gave them to her. She wasn't expecting it, so she said she was going to take you with her. Now, that was something I couldn't allow. So, your mother decided to try to hurt me by poisoning you. When I found her plans, I confronted her and told her to either drink that same poison she bad for you or she was to leave tomorrow morning and never see any of us again. She instead chose to kill herself because she believed it'd be far more of a dishonour to return to her home as a divorcee and without child."

Tears slipped down your face. "N-No, you're lying. I saw Keigo-"

"Keigo tried to save her, but I told him no. I made him stop. The very thought of harming you was punishable. She deserved to die, and I had no sympathy for her when she dropped dead in front of me. I even had the antidote, but I chose to watch her die." Dabi said coldly. "All this time, Keigo had been covering up for me. He didn't say a word when rumors started, knly because he didn't want to have people see me as a murderer. He adored you, he's taken care of you, has quietly taken every insult you've ever thrown his way. And this is how you repay him?"

"Only Keigo and I have truly ever loved you. Your own mother wanted to kill you for her own selfish gains." Dabi said harshly as your world finally collapsed around you.

You couldn't say anything, do anything as you tried to make sense of his words, tried to find a way to that would tell you that he's lying. But you couldn't.

"GUARDS!" Dabi called. "Lock the princess in the hightower. Tie her to her bed, make sure she doesn't hurt herself or escape." He said before helping Keigo up. You couldn't protest as the guards dragged you to the hightower, didn't move a muscle as they tied you to your bed. All you could do was look up at the ceiling and cry mutely.

All these years, all this time, you'd been blaming Keigo, when everything that has ever happened to you was your beloved father's fault. The man you loved, the man you looked up to, the man you cherished... he had been the one who killed your mother?

The more you thought over his confession, the more you felt yourself age. By morning, you didn't have energy to even breathe.

The doors opened, you continued to look up at the wall, tears brimming your eyes.

Dabi walked in, and you didn't need to see his face to know he was still mad at you. No, the anger was practically radiating off him.

"You are to get ready and smile as you walk Keigo down the aisle. If you do something stupid, I will have your friends hunted down and killed. Do I make myself clear?" He didn't wait for an answer.

"Princess, please, at least eat something." Inko said pushing the slice of bread to your lips, but you didn't part them. Simply looking ahead in the mirror with a blank stare as the maids did your hair and makeup. "Izuku, she hasn't said a word since morning! I'm getting worried."

Izuku nodded and signalled the maids to leave. He turned your head towards to him and smiled warmly at you. "Y/n... princess, what's the matter? Tell me, so I can fix it, hm?"

Some things can never be fixed.

You didn't say anything, only looking at him with that hundred yard stare, and Izuku couldn't help but feel a little spooked.

He helped you walk towards the church where Keigo was already waiting for you. He was dressed in a white fitted gown that was sleeveless and backless, and had a fishtail. The dress itself had body chains made of gold and Ruby and sapphires sewed in an intricate pattern. And his veil? He didn't opt to wear one.

He looked at you and smiled kindly, although you couldn't really tell the difference at this point. "You look beautiful, Y/n." He held out his arm for you. "Ready to walk me down?"

You didn't have the energy or want to link your arm with his. Inko had to help you place your arm around his.

The doors to the church opened and the choir began singing hymns. The guests turned to look at you and Keigo, who was beaming as he looked at the end of the aisle where Dabi stood, a satisfied smile on his own face.

Your body felt weak, too weak and... different. You were dragging your steps, which fortunately no one could tell since they were hidden under your gown. At some point, it felt more like Keigo was walking you than you were walking him.

You weren't smiling at all. No, you still had the blank stare on your face, which luckily few people noticed since everyone was focused on Keigo.

"What's wrong with her?" Momo whispered to Katsuki as they saw your face. "Why does she look so... disturbed?"

"She must've seen your face." Katsuki remarked, although truth be told, he was also very concerned. Something felt off. Very off.

When you reached the end of the aisle, Dabi took Keigo's from you, and as rehearsed, they both kissed your cheek, but not before Dabi whispered-

"You forgot to smile. Behave."

Shotou guided you towards your seat in the front row, where you were sat next to your grandparents.

The officiant began the ceremony, but you couldn't pay attention to his words. All you could focus was on the turquoise ring on Keigo's hand.

"Y/n, are you alright?" Rei asked, a frown on her face. You didn't reply, opting to look at your father now.

Your father, your dad, the man you trusted more than anyone, the man who murdered your mother, who had murdered Tomura, who had murdered AFO, who had-

You couldn't breathe, you felt too warm, too hot, everything was burning inside you.

"You may now kiss the groom!" They locked lips, only breaking apart when someone screamed.

It took you a few seconds to realise that it was you who was screaming, only because-

Your hand was on fire.

By the time Dabi or anyone else reached you, your entire body had been engulfed in wild blue flames. Flames that were so hot and out of control, that neither Dabi or Enji or even Shotou could control them. Rei tried to use her ice, but it evaporated before it even came within 6 feet of you. The flames began spreading, making the guests panic and leave the church.

Shotou was the first one to piece it together. "Its her quirk!" Immeadiately, Enji and Dabi began giving you commands on how to control it, to calm yourself, to listen!

Dabi even tried to approach you, maybe if he were to touch you, you'd listen. But your fire was too hot, and you backed away anytime they tried to come closer, only screaming in agony as you burned yourself.

After 5 minutes, only when you fainted from pain and exhaustion did the flames stop. Your body... the aftermath made it beyond recognisable. Parts of your limbs were burned so badly, you could see the bone, while the rest of your skin had charred and burned well enough to know that no nerves will be working there.

Despite everything, you were still somehow miraculously breathing... barely. Dabi couldn't believe the nightmare he'd just witnessed, but his disbelief could wait as he gathered you in his arms and yelled at Shotou to get a doctor.

Everyone left the church, except for Keigo. He had dropped to his knees and was trying to wrap his around the horrible sight he'd seen. Be was trying to compose himself, trying to lie to himself that this... this was not his fault.

He knew he was wrong.

Dabi couldn't peel his eyes away from you, he needed to make sure that your chest rose and fell evenly. The moment it stopped- it wouldn't- but if it did, he needed to be there to resuscitate you.

Emperor Kai was fortunately right outside the church, waiting to be of assistance. It was a good thing he was from the land of healers, he was able to stabilise you.

While Dabi kept his eyes on your burned form, Kai opted to talk with Shotou. "It was her own quirk that brought out those flames, seemingly she got the dominant Todoroki quirk." He commented, glancing your way. "What she didn't inherit was the skin resistance to bare those very flames. She burned herself quite badly, and it doesn't help that the smoke from her own burning has damaged her lungs as well. She's still in a critical condition, I've done all I can. All we can do is wait and watch to see if her body can heal itself."

He also explained to Shotou that since its very rare to get a quirk at your age, that's why you couldn't control it. Kai reasoned that the reason your quirk did develop at that moment was probably because you were under some stress, maybe something had tipped you over emotionally, making your quirk appear so fiercely and harshly.

"Like an outlet, when we cry when we breakdown. She burned herself to release that stress." Kai explained.

Shotulou had walked him out of the room, only after ensuring that no one else was around did he ask that question.

"Her chances of survival... what are they?"

Kai's blank stare didn't give away the type of news he'd give. "Anything is possible, but it all depends on her body's ability to heal itself, her willpower to live. Medically speaking, I've done everything I can. Now, only she can save herself."

Can you save yourself, Y/n?

So... THOUGHTS????

And yall better fucking comment because I did not waste my entire fucking day on this when I COULDVE BEEN STUDYING FOR MY TEST ON TUESDAY FOR YALL TO BE DRY ASS.

Istg if I don't get interactions and comments and likes, I will make yall regret and kill characters left and right, AND REMEMBER THAT DEATH IS NOT THE WORST THING I CAN DO

#yandere dabi x reader #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere dabi #yandere royal gay au #yandere king dabi #yandere concubine keigo #yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo x reader #yandere todoroki clan #yandere endeavor

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cherubfae · 3 months

Note

Hello! I love your writing, it's so cute! Here's an Idea bouncing around in my head: Reader is a shy and easily flustered individual who's developed a crush on Alastor. However they try to keep their distance as they know he's Aro/Ace and doesn't want to overstep boundaries. They go to Lucifer a (somewhat) expert on romance and feelings of longing to vent, also developing a crush on Lucifer- (Reader is a hopeless romantic lol)

Anyway, hope you have a nice day and remember to drink water!

|| The Price of Love || Alastor x Reader x Lucifer

tags: gn!sinner!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, love triangle, miscommunication, blood/injuries, mild nudity mention, divorced!Luci, I had to make it a bit comical, I made this too angsty for my own liking now I'm sad 😭, protective bois

This is a one shot. I won't be writing a part two. Thank you! :)

A dreamy sigh echoes from your lips, swirling down the empty hallway. You're sitting on your bed with your knees pulled to your chest with a clawed hand over your heart. Sometimes you miss the thrum of your heartbeat against your fingers. With all of the people occupying Hell, you didn't expect to feel quite this lonely.

You stare down at the pocket watch in your hands. Such a tiny device cost quite a fortune, but it was a true antique having been manufactured in the 1920s. Your intention was to give it to Alastor. Yet, you never did.

Despite everything in your being wanting you to give him the simple gift, a token of your love and your friendship, you just couldn't. You were already internally setting yourself up for a failure that may not even come. You weren't sure Alastor would ever be into someone, let alone you. So, allowing these thoughts to fester you withdrew yourself from him. Forcing smiles when around him and the others, faking laughter; all of which Alastor could see right through. Every time he tried to seek you out, to confront you, you were already engaged with someone else or another task for the hotel.

You were actively allowing your depression to swallow you whole all the whole not realizing that if you had only asked, Alastor's feelings are the same as yours. He just didn't know how to approach you and Rosie thought it best to let you come to him; yet you never did. Even Alastor was finding it a bit hard to keep that smile on his face. Why won't you just approach him? He...He can't do it. Please.

A dreary day in Hell with violent lightning and thunderclouds and acidic rain brought you into the company of Lucifer Morningstar himself. He could smell your sadness from miles away and like clockwork, he instantly pulls you under his wings.

"Now then, sweetling, what brings you to see the Big Boss Man Himself?" Lucifer grins, crossing his leg over his knee nursing an apple martini with an apple slice hanging off the sugar-dusted edge. He serves you whatever drink you may like, alcoholic or non-alcoholic.

"I'm in love with Alastor and I don't know what to do! I'm scared to get too close to him because I'm not even sure he's into me like that and I don't want to get hurt!" You sob, the words come pooling out of your mouth like a waterfall and so do the tears.

Lucifer visibly bristles at the mention of his rival, almost choking on his drink. With a snap of his fingers, his martini glass vanishes with a poof! His full attention now on you. Gently, he takes your hand in his gloved one.

Softly, he begins. "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real. It's not the end of the world, not by a long shot. Everyone who we meet and who we love crosses our paths for a reason. To teach us something, either for a short chapter or they'll be lifelong companions. Even in the afterlife, there are still people worth risking the hurt for." Smiling wobbly, Lucifer embraces you close. "Take a few deep breaths. If this is truly how you feel, talk to him about it. We may be magic down here in Hell but not all of us are mind-readers, darlin'."

For the first time in a long while, you smile too. Embracing him again with a laugh.

Standing to leave, you turn to your friend. "May I see you again?"

Lucifer let out a tiny gasp, a slight pink hue coating his cheeks. "I'd like that a lot!" He jumps up. "I can show you how to paint rubber ducks!"

When you finally return from your outing, you're in a much more visibly happy mood. With eyebrows raised, Alastor watches from the shadows as you whistle a happy little tune and make your way up the stairs and veer to the left towards your bedroom. A familiar scent clings to your own, one that makes his lips curl back in a vicious snarl. Lucifer.

"Now darling, I think it's time that we have a talk--" Alastor materializes from the shadows, fully manifesting into your bedroom. You shriek in surprise.

Immediately, you snap. "Alastor, what the fuck! OUT."

Alastor, who has been turned away from you, spins to face you aghast that you'd speak to him in such a manner as you never have before, only to quickly cover his eyes. You were standing in the privacy of your bedroom, almost entirely naked except for those flimsy bottoms you called your underwear. Alastor swallows thickly at the sight of your bare skin, even when you wrap your blanket around your body. He feels lightheaded.

"My apologies, dearest. Ta-ta!" In a plume of smoke, Alastor fades out of the room. By the time he returns to his radio tower, he's gasping with his palm covering his face which was now nearly as red as his hair. He's ashamed he hadn't shown more decorum and instead witnessed you in such a state. Even when angry with him, you had never looked more alluring.

Lucifer swung by the hotel rather unexpectedly, surprising Charlie with a new plant for her bedroom and crushing Maggie into a huge hug! The place was really coming along, he had to admit. There was a more inviting atmosphere to the hotel now since it was rebuilt. It almost felt cozy.

"Dad, what brings you by?" Charlie smiles, carefully handing the plant over to Vaggie.

Lucifer smiles. "I'm here to pick up a friend for a little coffee date and I figured I'd say hi to my favorite daughter and my favorite soon-to-be daughter-in-law!" He coos, squishing Charlie's cheeks between his gloved hands.

On queue, you're walking down the stairs into the foyer. "Lucifer!" You beam, a large smile crossing your cheeks. His tummy flutters at the sight. The outfit you had on was darling, suiting you to a T.

A crackle of static explodes into the front lobby, the Radio Demon taking form between you and the Morningstars. Alastor's eyes immediately narrowing at the unwelcomed guest, at least in his mind.

Laughing nervously, Charlie wedges herself between her father and friend. The air rippled with electricity as the two stared the other down.

"Okay, you two, calm down. Let's not start anything, ok?" She glances at Vaggie for help who simply shrugs her shoulders; setting Charlie's new plant baby aside. Approaching slowly you stand by Lucifer's side. Placing a hand on the King's shoulder, Alastor nearly explodes with radio feedback. An eerie green glow consuming his form.

Static voice dripping with malice spits out, "You're going out with him." It wasn't a question.

Casting a look over your shoulder, you nod at Alastor. "We're going out for coffee."

The Radio Demon is practically seething with venomous rage--not at you, but at the puny little shortstack of a King who thinks he can meddle with those in his life. "You don't deserve their attention, Morningstar."

Lucifer balks. "You had your chance, pal! You snooze, you lose." Alastor's expression turns to one of confusion.

"What do you mean?" The radio filter is gone from his voice.

Snarling, Lucifer glowers at him. "They were in love with you! And now I'm here to pick up the pieces-- oh, fuck, you didn't tell him did you, sweetling?" His gaze is gentle as he regards you. You're begging for the ground to swallow you up.

Fighting back tears, you fidget on the spot. You're looking everywhere but at the two men who have held your heart captive. There was the love you held for Alastor, pure and genuine. How you got together like pieces of a puzzle. And then there was your love for Lucifer, intimate and loving. He was able to teach a part of you that you'd long forgotten. He helped you smile again.

Alastor shoves Lucifer out of the way, his clawed hands cupping your face. He wipes away those tiny tears with a gentleness no one in the hotel had seen. "Je t'aime tellement, mon cour."

Lucifer, now in his Full Demon form, shoves Alastor aside and grasps your arm. You let out a cry of pain, making the two males jump. With the appearance of his full form his claws had accidentally sunk too deep into your skin. Red leaked from the four deep gashes slashed across your skin, staining the sleeve of your lovely shirt. Your pretty eyes pooling with tears.

Like a true beast, Alastor explodes into his demonic form, arms outstretched to shield you behind him. Lucifer can only fixate on the blood dripping down your arm. Vaggie and Charlie are tugging you away while Husk prepares the First-Aid kit.

Lucifer is only able to stare at the tiny pool of blood you had left behind and the pain in his eyes. And then there was Alastor, ever the gentleman, always the one fighting for your honor, looking damn well ready to devour the entire fucking Earth for you.

And Lucifer felt he deserved whatever he had coming to him. His own words echo in his head: "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin imagines #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #cherubfae 2024

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diejager · 3 months

Note

Okay so this is a character I have in the works but I'd love your interpretation.

What about a BunnyDragon!reader being introduced into the monster!141? Long drooping ears, a friendly temperament, spewing green flames that bring life and heal things rather than destroying them. But their claws and teeth just as sharp and deadly as any other dragon.

Rabid Cw: reader being a menace, fire, pyromaniac, tell me if I missed any.

Laughing, you dashed off, away from the mess you four created out of sheer boredom, green flames sparking and lingering on the corner of your lips were the only proof people had to link you to the few burning heaps around the base. Your ears flopped as you ran and hopped away, a skip in your feet and a bright smile splitting your face, flashing sharper than usual teeth at people who stood in your way. They all parted, little chuckles leaving their lips when they saw you, all used to your little pranks, the sly and mischievous gleam in your eyes when you got bored and the loud steps that followed you closely, either Price, Laswell or another superior chasing after you to scold you.

“Spread out!”

You separated from the others, taking your own path from the fork. Spreading out meant that it’d take more time to catch each and every one of you to bring to Price’s office, wasted time meant that you stalled your punishment and burned through Price’s anger and disappointment. You would rendezvous back on the roof or the airfield once you’d waited out long enough, or Price would hound you back to his office for a verbal lesson on behaving and not giving him and Laswell paperwork.

Which seemed to be your situation after he sent the others to find you, Soap brought back by the scruff by Ghost, Gaz by a stalking Horangi, Rudy by a snickering Alejandro and you by a touchy König. You sat on the armrest of the worn couch, giving space for your wings to breathe and flutter behind you, occasionally moving to soothe the small ache; and your tail to sway, moving back and forth on the floor like a dog wagging it’s tail. There was a slight excitement in your body, to see how Price would react to this stunt you pulled, bigger in scale and more obnoxious with the bright flowers and lively faun that bloomed after your flames died down.

“Want to explain it to me before we start?”

You all shared a look, seconds spent staring to convey a silent message that you all agreed on and that left you to work your magic. You gave him a cheeky grin, watching his eyes narrow and his arms cross before you stared your little explanation, going onto the blandness of the base, the sheer boredom you all felt and having to find something to occupy yourself with. You could feel disappointment ooze off Price in waves, his furrowed brows and shaking head to the small snickers and laughs from the men who caught you.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Price sighed, stepping away from his desk and moving towards you with big and quick strides.

You only smiled up at him, gazing at him through squinted and amused eyes, head perked up to his bowed figure, face nearing yours with a stoic expression.

“But you love me,” you let slip out, feeling especially cheeky and proud of your work, bringing life to a grey area.

“But I love you,” he agreed with a small smile, hitting your horns with his, a display of love and affection for dragons, “Doesn’t mean you’re not getting punished, any of you.”

Taglist : @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts

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florencemtrash · 7 days

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty-One

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Character death and canon typical violence/graphic descriptions.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

It was the sound and smell that really got to you. The crackle of bones snapping and the stretching of skin and the slick squelch of new flesh as it grew into place. The scent of burning curtains and couch stuffing and meat so thick in the air Emerie could only lean over and vomit into the fireplace.

Through the smoke and the haze you saw barbs sprout from Vassa’s skin like needles before splitting down the middle to reveal sickly red feathers. Putrid flowers crawling their way through the dirt.

She fell to the ground, convulsing with pain and anguish as she transformed.

“VASSA!” Lucien roared. He threw his arm over his face, magic bursting forth in a protective shield around you and Azriel. His russet eyes reflected the flames that licked at his skin and hair, fighting and absorbing the power that flashed throughout the room.

From the corner of your eye you saw Feyre use her own spark of Autumn’s magic. The flames took on the shape of wolves and threw themselves over Mor, Gwyn, Emerie, and Elain in a protective huddle.

Vassa’s screams thinned out into one long screech and the beating of her wings sent another wave of heat through the room.

Azriel pressed you further against the ground as she took off, flying so close overhead that the sweat frying your skin evaporated and the tips of Azriel’s hair singed off.

Cassian swore, drawing out the short sword he always kept on him as he shielded Ione’s body from the worst of the initial blast, wings out and glaring siphon red in the shape of shield.

Vassa sank her claws into his back, latching onto leather armour and ripping him off the old woman. Her wings took up the length of the room, trailing ribbons of blue and scarlet fire as she finally descended on her prize.

Ione was no stranger to death. She did not fear it as some might have expected her to. She’d seen friends and family ruthlessly murdered. Experienced loss of a kind that the fae could not comprehend with their long lives. Maybe that was the reason she fought so little when Vassa’s talons closed over her arms and lifted her into the air.

Rhysand roared, night triumphant rumbling over the floors like an earthquake as darkness spilled from his hands.

But he was too late.

Vassa crashed through the window with Ione in tow. Glass and fragments of the supporting wall crumbled down in a chorus of cries that tore through your spine as shadows swarmed overhead. Reaching, reaching, reaching after the firebird and the woman she carried higher and higher up into the sky.

Cassian rolled to his feet, leaping after them with a furious beat of his wings that sent shards of glass skittering over the floor and dust flying into your eyes.

Azriel scrambled to his feet, hauling you up with him. You dragged your nails over his arms, blinking through smoke-filled eyes as you coughed.

All around you the House was burning.

“Are you ok?!” He shook you, hands coming up to your face. He was split between two choices — stay with you, or go get Ione.

“Go. Go! I’m fine,” you rasped, lifting your sleeve up to your nose and mouth as your eyes streamed with tears. Azriel hesitated, hearing your hacking coughs even as you pushed him towards the gaping wound of the House. Cassian continued to shrink into the distance, red light searing past Vassa’s feathers as she desperately dodged his attacks.

He wouldn’t go for a killing blow. Not when she was carrying such precious cargo.

“Just go! If Koschei gets his hands on Ione, we’re all dead!” You erupted in another fit of coughs.

Fuck.

“Stay with Lucien,” Azriel said.

“Yes, yes. Now go!” You gave him one final shove.

Azriel swore beneath his breath, turned, and raced towards the window with his wings ready to unfurl before disappearing in a flurry of smoke.

Misunderstanding — that was what made Shadowsingers so dangerous. Not their silence. Not the tendrils of darkness they commanded, but how little anyone knew of them and where they came from.

Illyrians, by nature, couldn’t winnow. It was one of the simple, unexplainable facts of their world. As immutable as gravity. As intrinsic as the magic that flowed through their land like a bottomless sea. And despite all the rules Azriel had broken, and would break, in his life — all the contradictions he flirted with like it was a game — he was, first and foremost, an Illyrian.

He did not winnow.

Winnowing was simple.

Winnowing happened when you folded the fabric of the world in half like a piece of paper and stretched that fabric thin enough to pass through. It was instantaneous. One moment you had both feet planted in one place, the next moment in another.

What Azriel did was wholly different.

Because when he “winnowed,” he actually went somewhere else first.

When he was running away from you, he was moving towards an opening only he could see. A black, flickering spot that grew and grew and grew until it swallowed him whole and he felt himself fall into a different realm.

The sounds of shouting and feet trampling over glass disappeared with a whisper and he dove into the silence, feeling shadows slip over him like water.

When he’d first shadow-traveled, it had been an accident. He’d been young and desperate to escape the cramped confines of his bed in the Windhaven barracks. He would never miss his time spent in the cellar, but at least there it had been quiet. At least there he could commune with his shadows in private. Accommodations in the Windhaven barracks were a poor imitation of horse stables — tiny bedrooms lined up with just enough space for growing wings and walls that didn’t reach the ceiling. Boys would peer over the walls at him like an animal on display, throwing food and boasting their strong wings while his lay on the floor like crumpled paper.

To this day he didn’t quite know where he went when he shadow-traveled. All he knew was that in this world of black sand, cracked rock, and perpetual music, beings roamed free that answered to him and only him. Creatures both same and different to the shadows he commanded in Prythian. They crowded around him, welcoming him home and blocking out the background hums of someone’s sweet singing as the light of three moons cast their silvery net over the Shadowsinger.

The plan is working.

Why have you left her behind?

The firebird is nearing the edges of your borders.

Your mate is safe. She remains by her brother’s side.

He listened to their reports, gliding through the still air and watching as a familiar light opened up ahead of him. A fourth moon that wasn’t a moon at all, but a light back home. Through the opening he saw a blue sky raked with fire as Vassa turned onto her back, careening through the air like a firework and opening her mouth wide.

She’s endowed with new powers. Be cautious, Shadowsinger.

Your brother is on your left.

What had felt like minutes flying through this darkness vanished into nothing. The time he’d spent in this realm never passed on Prythian. To anyone watching him, they’d think he disappeared from the House and reappeared here, hundreds of feet above the earth.

But things were better this way. When he traveled with his shadows, he had time to gather his thoughts and anticipate the fight ahead.

Quick! Get the warlord.

And he had help.

NOW!

Azriel shattered the boundaries of the world in an explosion of shadow, careening into Cassian’s side and knocking him off course just as Vassa spit out a ball of flame. Azriel heard Cassian’s shout in his ear as they tumbled through the air together in a tangle of wings. He felt the heat that had come close to scorching his back.

I am not that little boy. Not anymore. Azriel promised himself

The warlord grasped the harness hidden in the back of Azriel’s armor just between the shoulder blades, using the momentum of their fall to throw him back towards Vassa.

The Sidra glowed beneath him, the mouth of the river stretching wide as it prepared to feed the sea. Another mile, and the protections surrounding Velaris would fall away. Who knew what would happen to Ione and Vassa then?

Azriel saw the distance between them narrow. Vassa’s body could only be propped up by so much magic. Feathers continued to strip themselves from her body, curling inwards as they fell like paper left too close to a flame.

Ione flailed in Vassa’s clutches, iron cane still held tightly in her hand as she twisted and turned at the mercy of Vassa’s frantic flight maneuvers.

The firebird squawked in panic when she felt the first cold licks of Azriel’s shadows creep up her wings. They hissed and smarted upon first contact with her fiery feathers, before eating away at her magic like ravenous beasts.

But she also understood hunger. It was hunger that had driven her to take Ione. It was hunger that had forced her to turn. Hunger for the kind of magic that only Koschei could grant her when she was back in his malignant embrace.

To Azriel’s horror, Vassa twisted in the air and flung Ione down with a shriek.

The old woman’s face twisted in shock, her scream choked by wind as her stomach flew into her throat and the burning pressure in her arms gave way to freefall.

Azriel didn’t hesitate. He dove down, reaching out with two scarred hands.

For one brief moment they were falling together.

Ione saw the firebird change direction and aim right at Azriel, slipping into the blindspots of his vision. Ione looked him dead in the eye and gave the faintest nod.

Azriel tucked his wings in close and veered off course at the last second, rolling with the impact of Vassa’s wing slamming into his side and feeling the burn when his leathers caught fire.

Somewhere in the wind, Cassian roared.

Vassa caught Ione and fled beyond the borders of Velaris.

And Azriel fell.

And fell.

A comet.

And disappeared into the ocean.

Feyre stood in the center of the House, hands raised and eyes alight as fires leapt up the walls and swallowed the curtains. With one fell swoosh they vanished, wind rushing in through the battered side of the House and sweeping away the ash and smoke until the air tasted clean again.

She raised a trembling hand and with one decisive snap of her fingers the worst of the damage vanished, leaving behind the skeletal remains of their once lovely living room.

“Mor.” The High Lady rasped.

The blonde female stood to attention, cheeks stained grey, and brown eyes flaring with rage. People liked to think she was just a pretty face — a diplomat or a soothing presence. But right now, she was out for blood and she could smell it coming in the air.

“Go tell Helion and the others. We meet at Thesan’s as planned.”

Mor nodded and grabbed Emerie’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze as the Illyrian shook off the worst of her sickness. Her stomach, now empty, twisted. Mor kissed Emerie’s dark hair, whispering promises that they’d see each other again soon. Then it was only a matter of folding the universe in half and stepping into Helion’s palace to the sight of two dozen golden warriors.

Emerie blinked and her wife was gone.

Rhys stood by the staircase with Gwyn, touching the crown of her head and showing her his most treasured prize. Beneath the fabric of her priestess robes, a new bargain tattoo was being written onto the skin of her ribs. Until their parents’ safe return, Gwyn would protect Nyx and Velaria with her life. No force, natural or otherwise, would keep her from her goal, and those that sought to harm her charges would meet their end on her blade.

In the privacy of her room she donned the armour of the Valkyries and knelt down at the small altar carved into the wall. She touched the smooth white stone at the center and prayed to the Mother for strength and protection and health. She lit a red candle and dripped the wax onto the blade of her sword and polished it clean, reciting her prayers beneath her breath.

What seeks to break me will fail. I am a protector. I have always been a protector. And that is what I will always be. It is written in my blood and in my bones, but where I was strong in my spirit, I am now strong in my body.

She stood with her sword in her hands.

I am the rock against which the surf crashes.

Tucked away in a cabin in the Illyrian Steppes, Nyx stood in front of his wooden soldier, practice sword clutched in his hand as he danced around the immobile warrior with a crease in his brow identical to Feyre’s. Every so often he would look over his shoulder at the female sitting on the floor, searching her silver eyes for that hint of pride she hid so well.

Velaria lay in the crook of her arm, soft fingers tangled in the layers of gold and jewels that hung heavy from her slim, straight neck. Her eyes narrowed as she saw beyond the confines of the cabin into Rhysand’s mind.

It’s happened hasn’t it? She asked knowingly.

Yes.

And which one will you be sending to the children and I, boy?

Gwyn.

A good choice. I like that one.

Rhysand smiled tightly, feeling that knot in his chest loosen. No matter what happened, his children would be protected. They’d survive.

As if sensing what the High Lord needed, Amren looked down at the child swaddled in her arms, allowing Rhysand the relief of seeing his children even if he couldn’t be there to hold them himself.

Nyx, ever the precocious child, stopped his play-fighting and looked towards his aunt.

He was still young but greatness hovered over his shoulder like a vulture ready to descend upon his innocence the moment he came of age. It frightened Rhysand to no end.

Please, keep them safe.

Amren’s mind flickered with something like indignation and she clutched Velaria closer to her chest. It wasn’t maternal instinct that drove her, but something else. Something more feral and possessive.

I have protected you and your family for centuries. I have killed for you and I died for you when I had far more to lose than just this mortal body. Do you truly believe I will fail you now?

No, Amren. No I do not.

You raced up the steps after Lucien, smoke settling into your lungs as you wheezed and tried keeping up with his long, frantic strides. Vassa’s bloody footprints and a trail of burnt blue-orange feathers marked her descent.

“JURIAN!”

Lucien called his friend’s name the whole way up, praying to the gods that he’d hear a response. The air cleared the higher you went through the House until finally you stood at the base of the attic steps.

The door stared down from above. Neatly closed. Unassuming. Vassa had shut it calmly before walking down. Or maybe she just couldn’t bear to look at the scene she’d left behind.

Lucien burst through the silent, unblinking door and stopped dead in his tracks.

The first thing you saw from around his shoulder was the mangled remnants of the birdcage. Its side had been ripped open like ribs, cushion stuffing and blanket fragments spewing out. Claw marks decorated the walls and you detected the cling of iron in the air through your burning nostrils.

“Lucien?” Your voice shook.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move past the edges of the room.

When you went to move around his frame, he gripped your arm and covered the way.

Jurian’s body lay sprawled on the floor, blood pooling in a neat circle around him like he’d been blotted out with a red pen. His right arm was in tatters and three long gashes split him from the temple to his hip. His pearly white winked cruelly. The hazy afternoon sun settled on the dust in the air.

He must have gotten too close to Vassa not realizing that she was too far gone for even him to help. Maybe she’d done it intentionally as a means of escape, thinking that Jurian was her jailor. But maybe it had all been an accident. The wrong turn of her talons as the pain of her transformation took over.

The method did not matter. Nor did the reason.

Because Jurian was dead.

Lucien crumbled to his knees, sinking into the carpet and feeling nothing and you…

It took everything within you not to scream. You pressed down on the feeling. Down. Down. Down. Burying it deep beneath layers of willpower and practice.

You walked over to the windows, feeling hatred at the sun for shining down with its yellow light, and ripped the curtains off their rings with a metallic clang.

Jurian looked up at the ceiling with glistening eyes. Somehow, even in death, there was the faintest hint of a smile on his face — proud, mischievous, and a little wild. A sign of the charismatic general he’d been by Vassa’s side and long before then. You covered that smile carefully, ignoring the squelch of your shoes when you stepped into the circle of blood.

Something in Lucien cracked open when the curtain fell into place.

He finally screamed. Hands and knees braced on the floor. Face twisted in pain.

You clapped your hands over your ears, tears streaming down your cheeks as you willed the sound to stop.

“Lucien—” Elain skidded to halt at the doorway, the mass of pink fabric around her waist swishing once then falling still. She looked at the outline of Jurian. She looked at you. Then she fell to her knees, pulling Lucien’s body into her lap and whispering his name. The initial silence stretching across the bond had terrified her. Hearing him scream and the heartbreak that followed after had sent her running.

Lucien collapsed against her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the flesh of her stomach. She cradled his head in one arm, the other splayed over his back as he wept.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped through her own tears. “I’m so so sorry, Lucien.”

He cried.

And cried.

You and Elain heard the shouting from downstairs as a collection of Cassian’s most trusted Valkyries and Illyrian warriors assembled on the lawn. Emerie stood among them, her seconds helping to tie the leather straps of her armour into place as she barked orders left and right.

Elain looked towards you. The fight to come left no time for grief. Not even Lucien was exempt from that.

You moved in front of your brother, blocking the sight of the curtains on the floor.

“Lucien,” you begged. Your brother’s bloodshot eye looked at you from the crook of Elain’s arm. “We need to get ready. We need to go.”

“I can’t… I can’t just leave him. I can’t leave him to rot in this room. I can’t—”

“I’ll take care of him,” Elain promised. She looked down at her mate. “You can trust me with him, Lucien.”

He said nothing, but together you and Elain helped him up to his feet, and Elain — beautiful, lovely Elain — stood on the tips of her feet to kiss her mate’s tear-stained cheek. She tasted the salt on her tongue and felt the burning of unshed tears in her own eyes.

“I’ll bury him somewhere calm in a bed of marigold and poppy.” Fiery, resilient flowers to remind Jurian of the woman he had loved. “And when you and Vassa return we will have a proper goodbye. I promise.”

He took a deep, trembling breath and whispered, “Thank you, Elain.”

You let him lean against you, let him bury his face in your hair to escape the smell of blood and death, and walked with him downstairs.

After you and Lucien were gone and Elain stood alone in the presence of the dead, she rolled up her pale pink sleeves, tied off the length of her dress and prepared for a new garden.

Azriel was soaking wet and aching as he flew up to the House of Wind. Salt stripped his hair of moisture and the strands dried hard and tacky against his scalp.

“Did you need to make such a dramatic exit?” Cassian snapped when they landed on the balcony. “I thought she’d killed you.”

Azriel moved through the House without even looking, charred leather flaking off his shoulders and floating to the ground as he walked. His wings were sore and tender from the heat, along with his ribs and shoulder from when Vassa had first barreled into him and then when he’d landed in the Sidra.

“We needed to make it look real, remember?” Azriel answered smoothly.

It had always been part of the plan to let Vassa take Ione if she attempted it, but they couldn’t let her go without a fight or Koschei would find it suspicious. Even so, Azriel hated to admit that he’d been distracted thinking about you. If he’d been any slower today he might have lost his wings.

“Well you did your job too well.” Cassian growled.

Azriel dipped into his room, quickly stripping out of his clothes and donning new leathers before he and Cassian set off once again deep into the mountain.

They stopped in front of a grey wood door, and Azriel knocked twice. Paused. Knocked thrice. Paused. Then knocked twelve times.

Ione — the real Ione — opened the door.

Feyre had inherited many gifts from the seven High Lords of Prythian — her healing touch, her water wolves, her mastery over flame and light and dark. But one of her least used gifts had been glamouring people from her Court… until now.

It had taken her half a dozen portraits to familiarize herself with every subtle valley and curve of Ione’s face, and double the number of attempts before she’d successfully woven Nesta’s features into a perfect copy. You’d swooped in for the final steps, using your knowledge and magic to dampen Nesta’s magical signature until even Cassian couldn’t tell when it was Nesta or Ione standing in front of him without relying on the mating bond.

“Has it happened?” The old woman asked gravely, pulling her shawl tight around her shoulders.

Azriel nodded. “Vassa took the bait.”

As they spoke, the mortal queen was carrying a disguised Nesta to the Continent where she’d be a hidden weapon in enemy territory. Koschei wouldn’t even know he’d been delivered the wrong prize.

At least that was the hope.

They brought Ione down to the House, and Azriel forced the woman into a brisk walk, weaving through the small collection of fae in search of you. You stood by Feyre and Rhysand close to the river, one arm kept tight around Lucien’s and a new satchel slung over your back. You kept glancing over at your brother, watching as he did what he could to compose himself.

“Y/n.”

One small word spoken from his lips and your eyes were latching onto him. There was a question in his eyes as he looked first at your pale face, and then at Lucien. The trembling of your hands and the shake of your head was all he needed.

Jurian was gone.

Azriel swallowed, stopping in front of the male he’d once hated so unfairly and feeling shame. “Lucien, I’m so—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll rip your tongue out,” Lucien seethed, his eyes flat and hard as stone. The despair had given away to fury before Jurian’s body was even cold and suddenly Lucien was itching to be on the Continent. To feel Koschei’s blood on his hands.

It wasn’t too late to save Vassa. It wasn’t too late to get his friend back.

“You can feel pity for me when this is over.”

There were only a dozen fae crowded around Feyre and Rhysand, but you could feel every wave of power that rippled off their skin, the electricity they shot into the air as they bounced on the pads of their feet and loosened their muscles.

You found yourself pressed between Azriel and Lucien, the Shadowsinger’s hand balanced on the small of your back. Ione stood in front of you, your hand laid protectively on her shoulder, and a Valkyrie stood behind. She had her corn yellow hair braided around her head in a crown of gold, and stretching out from the slits in her armor fluttered the black and orange wings of a butterfly.

“Techaria,” she introduced herself with a smile and a handshake. “I’ve been assigned to you and Ione.”

Techaria never left your side, standing firmly at your back after Rhysand winnowed you all to the Dawn Court and the crowd swelled to nearly a hundred.

You were miles away from the Dawn Palace — the ocean at your front and a sea of frost-tinged grasses at your back. The air buzzed with excitement and dread and no small amount of bloodlust.

You caught glimpses of the shimmering High Lord of Dawn and the hawk-winged peregryn soldier who held his hand as he dispensed final healing touches. He would not be among the seven High Lords and High Ladies leaving for the Continent.

The High Lord and High Lady of Winter stood glistening like a pair of crystalline figures beside one of the coast’s watchtowers. White-haired warriors of frost and starshine bobbed around like snowfall and you struggled not to tremble in the presence of the three armored polar bears among their ranks. Eris’s males were similarly easy to spot with their burnished copper armour and their battle hounds hovering at their shoulders. Azriel stepped in between you and one of the beasts, froth pouring from between razor sharp teeth as it growled in your direction for staring too long.

A Summer soldier shoved past, earning himself a glower from Techaria and Azriel as he grabbed another female and drew her into one last passionate kiss. The seashell necklaces they wore clattered as they met, evidence of the dozens of battles they’d survived together.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight as the crowd quickly split apart at the orders of their High Lords and High Ladies, coalescing into pre-determined divisions that sometimes asked mated pairs to separate. In foreign territory against a mysterious god, communications through their bonds would be indispensable.

You saw an Autumn Court male — one of the High Lord’s brothers by the name of Castor — break away from his group. He ran towards a willowy Spring nymph two divisions over and slipped a ring into their pocket.

Their blue eyes blew open in surprise, cries of protest smothered by a firm kiss before he whispered, “I have my High Lord’s blessing. When this is over, I’ll propose to you properly, but you’ll keep this safe in the meantime, won’t you?”

The nymph sputtered, then nodded when words failed them. Just as quickly as he had come, Castor sprinted back to his men and his division disappeared before your eyes. They were the first to winnow to the Continent.

Lucien folded you into a back-breaking hug. “Stay safe.” Your brother commanded. You heard the tightness in his voice. He’d be staying with Feyre and Rhysand to lead one of the main charges alongside Eris and Tarquin. “I can’t lose you as well.”

“I’ll come back so long as you do.”

You squeezed him hard enough to crack ribs, but Lucien wished it had lasted longer. He dove into the parting wave of bodies and vanished.

You felt your throat tighten as you turned to face the goodbye you’d been dreading the most.

“Az, I—”

He silenced you with a kiss, sliding his tongue over your lips for one last taste. He didn’t want to say goodbye. He refused to accept the possibility that you wouldn’t return to each other.

He pulled away so quickly your head spun.

“I’ll be with the second division,” he breathed out, “Near the southwest corner, not even a mile away from you.” The map flashed in your mind with all its little figurines spread out like a chess game. “Remember what we talked about?”

If things go wrong, find me so I can protect you. And so if anything happens, we won’t be alone. I want you to promise me.

You nodded fervently.

Someone in the crowd was calling his name. Maybe Cassian? You couldn’t pay attention to anything other than the hazel eyes burning into you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but suddenly his brother was there grabbing his arm and hauling him away towards the second division. Red and blue siphons flashed in the grey light and then the pair were gone.

The crowd thinned as more groups began winnowing away to the Continent. One second there. The next second, gone.

“We need to go, my Lady,” Techaria said gently, but firmly. She’d given you both your privacy and a few precious seconds, but that time was over now.

You nodded, not able to look away from the empty space Azriel had occupied.

“He’ll be fine, girl,” Ione said, taking Techaria’s hand. She wore thin, chainmail armour enchanted to feel weightless and a glamoured veil over her features. You caught glimpses of her true face out of the corner of your eyes, but direct eye contact and her face blurred and warped into something unnatural.

“I know,” you whispered.

Your stomach dropped when you realized you never did say goodbye to Azriel.

You felt Techaria’s calloused palm slide into yours and then you were gone.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Yeah guys, RIP Jurian. As I said in a previous post, one of my qualms with SJM is that she doesn't let characters stay dead. I want y'all to know, Jurian is gone. Sorry............ he wasn't even in the story for very long and didn't do much but I'm going to miss him.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader slowburn #angst #character death #the shadowsinger and the inkbird

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monster-slxt · 7 months

Note

You are an exorcist that specializes in exorcising demons.

Currently, you are investigating a small town that's had an unusual amount demonic activity.

You questioned the towns people, however, most seem unwilling to even mention the stranger going ons in their town and simply avoid your questions before quickly walking away.

Lucky for you though, you manage to overhear a few of the towns folk gossiping with each other.

Apparently, for the last few months, a terrifying creature has been roaming the streets seemingly search for something. What it is looking for no one wants to know...

Even more terrifying was that anyone foolish enough to still be out at night would go missing. Only to be found the next morning unconscious with their clothes in tatters.

You then visit the local church to see if the priest if he knows anything.

The priest is surprisingly welcoming of you. Quickly leading you inside and even offering some refreshments.

You explain why your here and ask if priest may know of anything. But the priest sadly shakes his head.

With a sigh, you get up to leave, but are quickly stopped by the priest. He says that it is too dangerous to go out this late and that you should stay in the church with him at least until sunrise.

Deciding it's probably a good idea, you agree.

That night as you sleep in the bed given to you, the priest silently creeps into the room. He stares down with glowing red eyes at your sleeping form.

He so desperately wanted to crawl on top of you and rip that teasingly thin layer of clothing from your oh so tempting body and fuck you until your moans like a bitch in heat.

But ah, he can't. Not yet at least. It simply wasn't the right moment.

It ironic really, before he would have condemn such lecherous thoughts. Back then he was a devout servant of God. A truly holy man.

But that was before he got possessed by the demon. Before his mind and soul were beyond redemption.

Now he was nothing more than a monster that indulges into his own sin.

For the past few months his demon had been searching for a mate, but has had no luck.

None of the humans he found were right. Sure they were decent fucks, but they broke way too easily and left him unsatisfied.

Then you appeared.

The moment he saw you, he knew you were perfect. A single whiff of your scent was enough to have the demon in him purring.

Oh he couldn't wait to see you round with his offspring! All in good time, love~

Kissing you on the mouth anon this is so good-

Of course, in the morning the priest would offer up the bed for as long as I needed to rid the town of its demonic influence. And of course I'd suspect nothing from a holy man. The next few days would go on much the same, getting nowhere with the locals during the day and sleeping in the church at night. The priest taking every opportunity to leer at me while I sleep, weakening my defense slowly with his unholy magic. At least The townsfolk seemed to ease up a bit with the lack of recent attacks.

It was only when I'd finally gotten frustrated with getting nowhere and decided to go out at night myself that I'd catch a glimpse of anything demonic. A huge hulking beast unlike anything I'd seen in all my years as an exorcist with a goats head and huge bat wings. The most I'd ever dealt with was a tiny imp. So I panicked.

All I could think to do in the moment was run for the church, the beast lazily keeping pace. It was clear as it followed me onto the holy ground that there was nothing I could possibly do. The sudden hint of arousal mixed into the fear the beast could smell of me finally became too much to bear- lunging forwards and easily catching me in its claws.

"I've waited so long for this" a rumbling deep yet somehow familiar voice purrs in my ear as long claws shred my clothes like butter. My attempts to flee were quickly stopped by an ungodly long tongue licking down my neck and a sudden weight on my stomach.

Risking a glance I felt faint. The demons cock was so huge there was no possible way it could fit inside me. Though he seemed intent on trying, pulling back and lining up with my cunt.

Without warning half the huge rod slammed inside of me, the stretch unimaginable. He wasted no time in pulling out and jackhammering back in, each thrust forcing more and more of his demonic cock in me. It was only then that I dimly became away of the familiarity in the demons voice; the priest. He moaned how I would be such a good broodmare, taking his corruption so well.

All night he fucked me, never once slowing down. Pumping me full of his demonic seed over and over again until sun rise. Leaving me with my stomach huge and swollen with cum, no doubt already knocked up, to go get ready for Sunday mass.

Nine months later I'm showing a group of church woman my engagement ring, stomach round and tight with twins. How lucky I was, the ladies cooed, that the priest was willing to marry me pregnant with an exes child. Not many men would, but he was just so good and holy.

If only they knew they knew they were praying with the father of the hellspawn kicking in my stomach

#asks #monsterfucking #monster smut #tetro #dubcon #preg #demon

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thegnomelord · 8 months

Text

Patience Is a Virtue

CW: Sub Top reader, Dom bottom Price, monster AU, dragon hybrid Price, Mage male reader, objectification, use of cock and strap, humiliation, edging, dom/sub, praise kink, getting called 'good boy', mild mirror sex. Might be OOC as I'm not familiar with cod. MDNI

You had fucked up.

Granted, you'd never admit or acknowledge that.

You didn't even see anything wrong by charging the enemy against his orders believing the ends justified the means. You were always like that, reckless and dismissive of your own mortality, happy to rush head first into the enemy fire if it meant one enemy was consumed by your magic. He couldn't fault you fully, the raging inferno of magic controlled you as much as you controlled it, but Price still couldn't have an asset disobeying orders like you did. Conventional punishments couldn't get through your thick skull, so he'd need to come up with a better solution...

Price got creative.

He had given you one simple order: Do not Move.

His heavy body pinned you down, thick and powerful thighs bracketing your hips, pleased growls rumbling in his chest as Price rose and then sank down on a cock.

But it wasn't your dick, he hadn't deemed you worthy of using your actual cock to pleasure him, instead fastening a strap-on to your waist. The silicone was the color of your eyes, and you could see the way it disappeared inside him through the dresser mirror behind him, wet with spit and lube.

The dragon hybrid had sucked the dildo when he first put it on you, ordering you to sit and watch as his lips wrapped around the silicone head. His long draconic tongue lapped at the artificial cum hole before he'd taken the entire thing to the balls, nose flush with your abdomen and pretty lips stretched taught, throat bulging from it and drool running down his chin. Indecently lewd sounds escaped his mouth as he pulled back, worshiping the silicone cock like a pious believer.

His eyes had never left yours, draconic gold glowing in the dark and just daring you to try going against his orders. You had needed to use every bit of your resolve to just stay fucking still, thinking of dead puppies and naked grandmas — anything to stop yourself from touching him when he'd growl with the fake cock balls deep in his throat, the sound vibrating the base of the strap on against your trapped cock beneath it.

It would send a jolt of pleasure down your spine, sizzling arousal and desperate want burning in your chest, but it wasn't enough.

Now, Price languidly rode 'you', pleased growls rumbling in his chest, slow hip movements allowing the fake cock to rub every inch of his walls. You'd know when the silicone would brush against his prostate by the way his wing would flex, by the way his tail would curl up like a beast in heat and his hungry hole would flutter around the strap, by the way the most sinful growled moan would come from his chest and his hips would grind down to prolong the sensation.

Your patience was beginning to evaporate, desiring nothing more than to pull more of those sounds from him, to be the reason behind his pleasure, to replace that damned stap and feel his greedy hole suck you in, to feel his body clench around you with draconic strength.

Price knew this, and he paid no attention to your torment.

He continued to ride you like a toy(which you were in a way), his eyes closed and head thrown back, one hand lazily stroking his own dick. Your eyes snapped to the strands of precum leaking from his tip, pooling in the grooves of your muscles, your mouth watering with the sudden desire to taste him.

He caught your gaze as he cracked open an eye, a pleased smirk on his features as he dipped his fingers into the puddle of precum and dragged his claws along your skin, sharp nails making your skin crawl from feeling his touch for the first time in a while.

It was comical how quickly you could feel your resolve slipping, fiery arousal burning hotter than mana in your veins.

Honestly, this torture should be considered a fucking war crime.

"Fuck, Price." You hissed through clenched teeth, not noticing how hard you were panting, the mana inside you burning hot. "Come on, I said I was sorry. Just let me fuck you already."

Price let out a chuckle, settling to sit fully in your lap, tail curling up just so you could see how his hole stretched and fluttered around the silicone. "You are fuckin' me." He said, fangs displayed in a grin.

That fucking dragon-

"That's not what I meant." You hastily replied, groaning when he ground down, grinding the base of the strap against your cock. "Fuck, I promise I'll follow orders next time, just, fucking please."

"You will now?" Price snorted, tone degrading, making arousal burn in your chest. "Is this all it takes? Not getting your knob wet for five minutes is enough for my mage to loose all that pride?"

You just whined at his mocking words, echoing a few more pleas without even realizing it, magic sparking along your skin with the desire to touch him, even as his words kept you down.

He chuckled, reaching out to grip your hair, pulling on it until you sat up and immediately shoving your face into his chest, almost smothering you in heaven. "Go on then, love, let's see how well behaved you are."

You didn't need to be told twice, tongue lolling out to lather his pecs with licks and kisses, teeth eagerly nibbling on his skin. A pleased rumble shook Price's chest and he rocked his hips, working to make your arousal burn hotter, urging your mind to further take what was offered to you. You sucked on his skin until his skin was marked with bruises and bitemarks, his nipples hard and puffy and covered with saliva.

"Thank you, fuck." you growled, throwing a praise to the powers that be, the desperation to touch more, to feel more, driving your body as you reached out to roughly grope his arse, pulling his body down on you while you bit his nipple hard.

A resounding growl came from his chest, yanking your head from his chest as his tail slapped your hand away, the thick appendage wrapping like a chain around your arm. "What did I tell you, boy?"

The roughness in his voice made your dick just that bit harder, making it almost impossible to think. "Stay still." You growled, teeth clenching with the desire to swear when he ground his hips down, sending jolts up your spine.

"And what did you do? The exact opposite." He growled, the rich green scales on his tail chaffing against your skin.

“But I-” You went to argue before your rational mind caught up with your dick, recognizing that all arguing would do would make Price prolong this fucking torture. “-I’m… I’m sorry.”

"Sure you are." He said in a flat tone, draconic eyes narrowed.

"I am." You repeated, your eyes glowing with the mana in your chest, casting light on his features. "Fuck, Price, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." It was obvious you weren't used to apologizing, and you hoped your inexperience in this department would make Price take mercy on you.

The clawed hand in your hair stroked down the side of your face to hold your chin, holding your head in place as if you'd ever dream of pulling away. Your body leaned in automatically, finally you'd be able to feel his hole flutter around you instead of that god forsaken strap, finally you'd be able to touch him after being denied for so long.

"Ready to be a good boy for me sweetheart?"

He mumbled as his lips brushed against yours, voice smooth like honey. You nodded dumbly, his fangs lightly nibbling on your lip as he ground his hips ground down on yours, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine.

Then he pushed you to lie on your back with a clawed hand on your chest, pinning you to the bed again.

"Then be a good boy, and stay still, just for five more minutes." He said, a sadistic glint in his eyes, thick thighs tensing as he began riding the strap again. "You can handle that, can't you? You did disobey me again." This time, his movements were rougher, the movements sharper, his full weight bearing down on your poor dick trapped beneath the base of the strap, pleasure and pain sparking in your brain all over again.

And you realized, you had fucked up.

#call of duty #top reader #male reader #captain john price #monster cod AU #price x reader #mage reader #centerpieces of the hoard #cod mw2 #john price x male reader #john price x reader #dom John Price #Bottom John Price #sub reader #top male reader

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pursuitseternal · 4 months

Text

“The Fourth Day” of Bats, Blood, and Mirror Smut in “Antics of the Newly Ascended”

Ascended Astarion x Reader |E| 2.3K of Batstarion and Self-indulgent mirror sex

Summary: He’s late to arrive back, and then you hear… scratching at your window. Bat nibbles and head scritches quickly shift into other sensual indulgences. Ones that allow him to experience other benefits to his ascension… and to your own pleasure.

CW: “Right Hand” puns, Batstarion bites, cunilingus, mirror sex, Extra Emphatic performance from the Ascendant cause he likes the way he looks, “oh yes, I see what all the fuss is about”

Previous Ch | Ao3 Link | Masterlist

A gift for @icybluepenguin

🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞

You lay in your bed, tossing and turning. Waiting for Astarion to return. The camp needed supplies—potions and scrolls and armor. And it was Astarion’s turn to go fetch, even as he had grumbled how beneath him it was as the Ascendant.

Of course, Wyll had only laughed all the harder, shoving the purse of coin in his pale hands and slamming the door on his ass. The goods had been sent ahead by a maid from the Elfsong’s tavern, the Ascendant adding in the message delivered along with the bundle that he would return anon, once he deemed his presence sufficiently missed.

That was hours ago… Now even sleep sounded good. Long, lonely sleep. With him somewhere out there in the dark of night.

Your stomach swirls, knowing he is powerful, knowing he is experienced in how to care for himself, but… you have so many enemies now. So many assassins and monsters and soldiers. The list of beings that wanted you dead seems to grow ever bigger.

He shouldn’t have gone alone.

Stupid, arrogant, exalted idiot.

Every sound in the tavern, every creak on every floor reaches your ears. And it’s not your heightened vampiric senses.

You’re worried. For as much as he preens and postures and bites and drinks, you can see it plainly with your eyes and your heart. You see what others can’t since his Ascension.

He’s still just the same, poor at planning, smooth brained rogue. Good with his hands, silken with his words, bad at anything to do with plots or logic or calculations or…

A soft scritch scratch at the window made you sit up from your good- humored, condescending musings.

Something… big… rests against the panes of glass. You look closer. Something largish and fluffy and… white.

“My dear consort, let me in…” he speaks in that way that caresses your mind with his own.

“You have got to be kidding, Astarion. Are you stuck again…”

“No, not stuck. I am positively famished. I need to rest, to feed, before I can use my magic to return to the handsome body you know and crave and worship….”

“Pfft,” you roll your eyes. “So you need help, is that it… mighty Vampire Ascendant?”

“You wound me, my darling…. My treasure…” he flaps against the glass again. His little claws scratch so hard as he grows clearly more and more agitated. “My right hand…” he purrs so silkenly.

You cross from the bed, your body naked as you stroll so slowly towards his blurred shadow on the other side of that pane. “It’s funny, my love, that night you offered me this…” you pause to flourish your hand the same way he had, “gift of immortality… I didn’t realize by your Right Hand, you meant things so literally.”

That made him flutter harder and bang his little bat feet against the window. “I swear when I do get in there… when I do finally feed and shift back… I’ll make that right hand do so much more for me than opening this fucking window….”

You laugh…. So adorable. So dramatic and ridiculous. So… him. “You should see yourself, my love. I suppose II would miss you if I should leave you so… indisposed.”

You cackle, reaching for that handle. The instant a gap was big enough, he flapped his way inside. Circling on his beautiful, membranous wings, you feel the wind brush your hair away before he lands on the back of your shoulder. His itty, bitty fingers hook onto the crest of your back, the only warning you get before you feel his small razor fangs bite into your neck.

So much smaller than normal, you gasp in surprise more at the sensation of warm fur on your skin. His little claws hook tightly, and his quiet breath snuffles beneath your ear as he drinks. You reach your hand around, his little ears twitching as you blindly brush them, scratching one finger in that small space at the top of his head. His mouth still contentedly suckles on your blood.

Tingles of magic wash down your back, and suddenly your hand raises with the top of his head, that silken mess of curls wrapped around your finger. Lips replace bat teeth, the wide span of his warm tongue swirls lazily over the teeny marks he’s left.

“Now… about that defiant, rebellious right hand of yours,” he rasps against the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Oh…. This little thing?” you taunt, wickedly, childishly, gripping that bulge between his legs from behind you. The “oof” that comes from his smirking mouth is music to your ears. You spin smoothly, pivoting your grip on his cock, and you give it just a few hard strokes to make it harden under your touch.

It doesn’t take much. It never has. He bucks against your palm. One of his elegant, long-fingered hands clutches underneath your chin, dragging your lips for him to consume. You taste the blood on his tongue, feel his hunger mixed with yearning. The way his tongue dances with yours hides nothing of the want you were so quick to incite in him.

You lose your breath as he shoves you against the wall. Moonlight floods from behind him, his sharpened face barely lit in the shadow. But those curls, ravaged by the winds of flying, mussed from his shifting, those silver-white curls sit like a halo in the pale light. Left hand closing around your right, he presses it against the wall, a silent command to hold still. Very still.

A single kiss on your lips, a rakish arch to his brow, and he drops to his knees. His hands force your leg over his shoulder so quickly, you have to grip that wall behind you, caught only by the way he shoves his shoulder under your thigh. His face already presses hard into your mound, fingers already prying your folds wide for his tongue to lap. Careful, you use your left hand to comb through his curls, riding the circling of his head as he licks through your seam.

The same sort of little noises come from between your thighs, little low hums of feeding, muffled grunts amidst the wet suck of his tongue on your clit. Your hips buck, catching on his nose, his hands keeping that new angle for him to push deeper into that wet.

You pound your right hand into the wall, a closed fist, and your legs shake. He drives you closer and closer, pools of heat and lightning racing to your belly and down your nerves. He laughs into your cunt, fingers slipping into your channel from somewhere below your ass. You can’t see, can only feel that rhythmic lap and suck of his perfect tongue and thick smirking lips. But those fingers crook hard to catch your spot, that itch he knows how to scratch and make you shatter.

You pant, riding the brush of his nose on your clit and the suck of his tongue as he devours you even in climax.

“Fuck me…” you groan, head smacking against the wall as you raise your hips even higher. His hands hold you firm, even as your legs twitch and threaten to go boneless in your orgasm.

“Oh yes, darling, I am about to do just that,” he stands to rasp into your ear. “You did say… if only I could see myself… a delightful suggestion, my pet. Come now,” he purrs, “but you will only use those defiant hands of yours as I see fit. And…”

He flips you around, drags you across the room to the corner, until you’re staring at your own reflection. The simple wooden-framed mirror shows every pale line of your bodies as one. You can barely tell where your soft curves melt into the edges of every hardened rise of him behind you in the moonlight. “…you’re going to watch ever little way I fuck you…”

“You mean you’re going to watch every little way you fuck…”

His hand reaches from behind you, clawing around your mouth and twisting to bring your ear against his smirking lips. His crimson eyes lock into yours in that reflection, a matching color. “Well, it was your suggestion, my love, since we both have been given such a gift. And I haven’t yet seen how ruinous I am in this process…”

“Tch,” you suck your teeth, a humored and condescending shake of your head. “Fine… it is a sight to behold. And after all, these days are about you discovering yourself, indulging in your powers.”

“And I’m so grateful it’s you who enables my indulgences, my darling,” his silken voice croons. His tongue visibly sticks out to run that warm, wet pad up the curve of your ear.

His gaze watches yours flutter, your body shivering involuntarily as you want more. “Bend,” he growls into those little circles and folds of your ear. His grip fastens on your wrist, making you reach for the wall beside you, turning you sideways to that shimmering mirror glass. You look through the messy curtain of your hair, watching in that reflection as his hand smooths down the vertebrae of your spine, his other grips and pumps his cock. That hard, veined length dripping onto the floor, twitching relentlessly as he catches your eye with a wicked grin.

“You keep those insolent hands where I can see them, darling, and you… will… watch me.” His voice drops into a deep-throated growl, his head cocked back, hips bucking into his fist. Even as he clutches the cheek of your ass, his sharp nails finding purchase, drawing blood to the surface as he marks you.

His. Forever.

Fingers leave your skin, pulling back that long, tousled mess of your hair so you can obey him.

So you can watch.

Watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, watch as he drags that blunted tip, forcefully and slowly back and forth through your slick. Watch as his hand beats his shaft against your folds, smearing your arousal up and down his velvety smooth skin as he does so.

It’s… burning in your belly, the way he’s licking his lips, stare alternating between watching his body in the mirror and your eyes drinking in his every sensual stroke.

You can’t look away, watching him shut his eyes, head thrown back in pleasure, arching as he sheathes himself until you feel that brush of his balls against you. You want to shudder and hang your head, instantly filled and throbbing and so… very… full.

“Don’t you disobey me, pet,” he hisses. “Best keep watching, or else…” Eyes still shut, he groans in deep delight as he pulls out once more only to grip your hips and shove inside again.

Deeper. Harder. More punishing. Fangs bared, he smirks down to watch his perfect shaft entering you, a slow beating rhythm to the snaps of his hips. Every little ripple of muscles in his body, you get drunk on the sight of him. Even that slight gleaming slick on his cock that you see, that base of his shaft as it glistens before it disappears to ram you full again. It makes your mouth water.

He picks up the pace now, your body so warm and wet from how he pleasured you. He smiles at himself, tilting his head back towards the mirror. You can feel it, the extra undulations of his body, a little extra shove, a little harder buck of his hips to make your ass slap hard on his body.

A performance of pleasure just for him.

Deep, subtle pants leave his gaping mouth with each thrust, his eyes watching the way his own flawless, ruinous body clenches as he fucks. Every tweak of his abs, every clench of his ass, you can see his eyes dart in the mirror to savor the sight.

You laugh, well, barely laugh. As breathless as you are, riding every pummel into your cunt, you manage to speak. “Careful, or I’ll have to get a blindfold if you can’t stop watching yourself…”

“Oh darling, I finally see what all the fuss is about,” he pants between his words. And you hear it, that edge to his voice, reckless and uncontrolled. His words catch in his throat just as stilted as his thrusts become.

Hard and random and rough.

Your cervix grows numb, your channel walls so swollen, so hot. Pounded over and over again until he finally groans and folds over you. Arms yank you back against him by your hips, slamming your body against his wild bucks. You watch that magnificent reflection as he unravels, how his knees buckle as he comes.

How his seed spills so hard from his cock deep inside you, it’s already dripping to the floor at your feet. The sight of sweating pale skin and undulating muscles bent over for you… you shatter too. And it makes another groan, a whimper come from where he’s laid his head on your back, just below your shoulder blades. Your walls milk him of every last drop, your own arousal joining the mess on the floor beneath your feet.

Breathless, your arms shake, still extended towards the wall. A naughty grin on your mouth as he looks at your lust-hazed eyes and tousled hair. His face is a matching set of post-coital mess and beauty.

You reach that right hand of yours between your legs, slowly, delicately teasing over your own slick clit, drenched in both your cum. Stroking further to brush the soaked base of his cock that is still buried inside you, he nips into the skin of your back, not hard enough to break the skin.

Just enough to make you look again in that mirror.

“Your right hand is forgiven… I’ll allow it…” he purrs one more time.

His crimson gaze still looks hazy and dunk on that sight of you coupled. And you wonder if he will ever let you stand.

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sparrowrye · 3 months

Text

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmate au} Part 4

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.

Part 4: Hidden Past

Part Pilot | Part 2 | Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"There's something strange about her." Alastor stood in front of the fire, staring into the hot flames. His eyes jumped up to the picture of him and his mother. "When I touch her, there's something...there."

"What do you mean?" Husker asked from his corner of the room.

"I mean there's some sort of blockage. She doesn't seem like she knows much about mind magic so it's not as if she's purposefully blocking me." He scraped his claw against the mantle piece with the ridge of the wood.

"And? What about it?" Husker fell into the couch with his wings outstretched. He stretched out all his limbs and stuck out his tongue in a yawn.

"I want to know what it is. I have a strong feeling that this blockage isn't of her own doing."

"You think someone cursed her?" Husker asked. "I wouldn't be surprised considering the ring fights and all."

“There's a strong chance she is," Alastor turned to face him, "but what is that curse doing? I believe it's putting constraints on her magic and hiding something a bit more powerful."

Husker was quiet for a long minute. Alastor stood silently with his smile as he waited for his friend and servant to connect the dots. When Husker did, his eyes widened and he sat straight up. "You think she's a demon?"

“There's a good probability." Alastor rested his hands on his cane. "After all, when have you ever heard of a demon and human being soulmates?"

"I'm not so sure.” Husker uncurled his claws to count. "Her aura isn't very strong, her magic is consistent with those with a Slight Hand, and she still looks like a human when she's asleep either naturally or by drugs."

"Indeed those are all good points." Alastor appeared beside him. "But a curse can be strong, especially if done by someone with a lot of power. They might have tried to hide the fact that she's a demon. She clearly doesn't know herself so it might've been done when she was very young."

"So...now what? How do you expect to find out if she's a demon or not? Even you can't undo a curse and we don't know who cursed her."

"I have someone who might be able to help." Alastor went back to the mantle and stared at the small clock. "After all, it is possible for someone to un-curse themselves."

"I've never heard of anyone doing that."

"Well, my good friend, you don't exactly travel and socialize very much."

"I'm quite happy with my life. Except when I have to deal with you."

Alastor laughed as he turned on his heels. "Well, you see, a curse is something that has to do with the mind. There's no actual physical restraint. A curse makes your mind think a certain way and your body follows your mind. It's quite simple really."

"Why would you want her to discover that side of her?" Husker questioned. "I thought you said a soulmate is a burden and a handicap."

"Not if she's got more power than we think. She already knows how to fight with such little magic, I can only imagine what she could do with all the rest of it."

"Is it smart to do that now? We don't know what kind of demon she is."

"It's nothing I can't handle," Alastor pressed his hand to his chest, "don't worry Husker. A demon in training is no match for me."

Husker hummed disapprovingly. "So who's the someone you know?"

"An old friend of mine. I'll need to bring her a piece offering when we go."

Husker sighed and raked his paw down his face. "Do I have to kill it?"

"I think you ought to socialize some, Husker," Alastor laughed.

****

I stayed in bed for days. I barely came downstairs for meals that Husker managed to put together and my only concept of passing time was when Husker came up to see if I was still here. I slept away my feelings and stared off into the vast sea outside my window. I didn't know what to do with my life now. I was stuck in an old house with two Full mages, one of which I was soul-bound to and despised.

Husker managed to coax me into eating dinner with him every night. We didn't speak as we ate by a meager single lamp on the table. Maybe I would try fixing up bits of the ancient house. Husker had fixed part of the kitchen so there was running electricity and new tiles on the floor.

"Maybe you should start sulking out on the porch," Husker said one evening during dinner.

I looked up. "What do you care?"

He shrugged. "Just trying to help. Sulking in a dust-filled house isn't exactly great for your health. At least outside you'll get some sun and fresh air. And...if you want to talk to someone..." he glanced over at me, "I'm always an open ear."

"Sure you are." I put my fork down. "I'm sure you'd love to hear me complain about your master."

"Don't call him that," he growled, "But surprisingly, yes I would. I'm not exactly choosing to be under his service."

The next day I took him up on his offer. I brought my book down with me and sat quietly in the chair. I read and he stared off into the distance drinking his bottle of something. I wanted to ask him questions more than I wanted to reveal my own past.

"So..." I cleared my throat. His ear twitched at the noise and he leaned back in the chair. "Can I ask how you came under Alastor’s service?"

"No."

"Can I ask anything about you?"

"Maybe." He shrugged with a smile.

"Here's one, then. Where the hell do you-" I was cut short as Alastor manifested in between us, red eyes locked on me. I looked down at the book with a stark, "What do you want?"

"I have someone I'd like to introduce you to," he looked over his shoulder at Husker, "and you will come along, too."

"Why?" I still didn't look up at him. Husker disappeared into the house, leaving me alone with the mage.

"She's someone I think you would absolutely adore."

"But why?" I finally met his terrifying eyes and ugly smile.

"Oh I think you'll find out when you meet her." He held out his hand for me to take but I denied it, standing up on my own and leaving the book on the chair. He leaned on his cane as Husker came out carrying two large trash bags. Alastor led the way off the porch, to the side of the house, and to the edge of the cliff. I noticed a scorched symbol in the earth beneath Alastor's feet.

He put an arm around Husker's shoulders and one around mine. The transition took longer this time. The wind was slow to pick up and the ground to disappear. I glanced over at Husker who's fur was sticking up all over and his lips pulled back in a snarl. I kept my eyes open the whole time. The house melted into a single dark color before turning into a crimson red. It went through a range of colors before it slowly cleared into a town.

"Hold on tight will you Husker," Alastor said as he let go of both of us. Husker growled like an angry cat and eyed the people walking past. I suddenly noticed that the people looked very different than normal. Their skin was pale and their mouths were drooping open into a block hole.

"Where the hell are we?" I asked.

"Just follow Al." Husker gently nudged me forward and I quickened my pace to follow close behind Alastor. It seemed like something out of a terrifying cartoon. The colors were all pale creams, pinks, and browns that their residents matched in their outfits. Speaking of which, all their outfits seemed incredibly out of date, as if from the Victorian Era.

We walked through the town, surprisingly filled with children running about with the same horror stricken faces, until we came to a certain building. The sign out front read: Rosie's Emporium. Alastor held the door open and I walked in with a casted glare up at him. Inside was busy and crowded with more of these terrifying people. It wasn't until I was close enough that I realized they had incredibly sharp teeth.

Alastor walked past me and the crowd practically parted like the red sea for him. I stayed close on his tail, ensuring that Husker was also close behind me. He seemed as grumpy as ever but his eyes jumped around like crazy. He was watching for something.

"I should've known you'd be right on time," a voice said. A tall, scary-looking woman came up to the small group. "How have you been Alastor, dear? Eating well?" She clung to his arm and gave him a polite pat on the back.

"Not as well as you will tonight." He gestured to the two bags Husker was carrying.

She put a hand over her toothy smile and laughed. "You're such a gentleman, as always. You didn't need to bring me anything."

"Well with the favor I'm about to ask, I figured you deserved it."

"And what favor is that?" she asked, making eye contact with me as she did.

"We need you to look a little deep," he replied.

"Ooooh, this sounds interesting. Hello dear," she grabbed my hand and shook it, "my name is Rosie. It's a pleasure to be meeting you." I smiled and introduced myself.

"It would be best to have our meeting in private," Alastor said discreetly.

"Oh of course. And we'll take those heavy bags off your hands." Two people appeared and took the trash bags from Husker, who seemed more than happy to pass them off. Rosie led us into a room off to the side, away from the hustle and bustle of the store. "Now, take a seat lovely." She motioned to one of the large pink chairs. A small coffee table sat in between us. "Would you like any tea?"

I politely declined as I sat down. Alastor told her, "I'm hoping you'll look a little deeper into her magic, for me."

"Why?" I blurted out.

He ignored me. "A quick glance should tell you everything."

Rosie stood and asked for my hand. I looked for Husker who stood near the door, out of sight. The woman reassured me that she wouldn't eat my hand. So I slowly placed my hand in her cold, dry one and let her place her other one on top.

"My my," she said with eyes closed, "I see what you mean. There's something...blocking....not me, but her."

"I thought so," he mumbled.

"What does that mean?" I asked as I took my hand back. Rosie grabbed a stool and placed it next to my chair.

"It means there's something strange about your magic. Tell me, dear, are you a Full mage?"

"No."

"Hm. You may very well be if this blockage is what I think it is."

"Really?" I was more than willing to give my hand back to her when she asked for it.

"It's possible. But it looks like this is a type of curse."

"A curse?" I swallowed. I had heard horrible rumors of curses from Full mages. "Can you undo it?"

"Oh of course, darling, don't fret about it. Though it will take some time. It's an awfully strong curse." Her eyes stayed closed as she gently massaged my hand. I could see her eyes moving beneath her eyelids. "Say, tell me a little bit about yourself. Try to go as far back as you can remember. Auntie Rosie won't judge, I promise."

I looked down at our hands. It had been a long time since I tried to remember anything from when I was younger. "Well I...uh...I uh...I'm a--I was a ring fighter."

"Oh, what a horrible profession," she commented.

"Yeah. Not great. But uh...I've had various masters through the years. The longest was...the longest was a Full mage called Striker. He owned me all through my teenage-hood. It wasn't...fun."

"Poor thing. You've been through a lot." The motion of her hands were very hypnotic. I felt myself relaxing into the seat. "What about before him?"

"Before him was...um...another man. He wasn't very well known but he was the first master I managed to escape from." My eyes closed and I felt like I was truly visiting my memories. "But he was also the first master to treat me...well...nice-ish I guess."

"How so?"

"Well, he moved me to a larger cage and upgraded my food rations a few levels. I actually felt comfortable in my cage when I wasn't fighting or dealing with an injury."

"What about any masters before him?"

"I don't remember them very well. I was very young. But uh...they weren't nice. The first ring I can remember was small and not as well known. The cages were small and we were all cramped together like livestock."

"What was your first cage like?"

"Horrible. I could barely move and my legs went numb for hours." My spine was seething with pain in the cramped little cage. I couldn't move my legs and my hands pulled uselessly at the strong metal bars. "It was so horrible. I remember crying for hours until my voice was hoarse."

"You poor thing. What else do you remember about these cages?"

"I remember meeting my first friend there. He was my age. Our cages were right next to each other. The cages were slightly bigger this time. But they were still empty and cold. The boy would always reach out and we would hold hands just to keep warm. We managed to pull our cages close and huddled as close as we could. It was always so cold. And so dark. I could hear other kids crying for their parents or...just for anything other than this."

"What happened to the boy?" My throat closed. "It's okay dear. Take your time."

I looked into the boys eyes, a beautiful bright blue. He always wore a smile whenever I looked at him, even if he was sad. "He...he didn't survive one of his fights." I watched him being dragged out of his cage, hand outstretched for me, and shoved into the ring.

"Tell me what you're seeing, love. What's happening?"

I sniffled. "He...they didn't..." His master carried his body back from the ring and laid him on a black sheet, giving me a clear view. "His opponent decapitated him." The tears streamed down as his dead, horror stricken face stared back at me. His blue eyes were dull and cloudy.

"What did you do?"

"I screamed. I screamed and cried and threw magic all over the place. They ignored me and took him away. I kept screaming and crying until...until something hit me in the head." I paused to sniffle again. "I woke up the next day to see a girl in his cage. She...she didn't last her first fight." My sadness finally wrapped itself fully around me and I broke down. I couldn't stop replaying the boy's body in my head.

"Okay, okay, come back. Sweetheart, you're not actually there." I felt someone shaking my shoulders but I couldn't let go of the image. "Sweetheart, you're in my store. You're free from those fighting rings and I'm right here holding your hand. Blink twice and look up." I listened and found myself staring into her pitch-black eyes. "There we go, welcome back dear."

I let out a choked sigh and dropped my head. I froze. I was staring down at two sets of sharp claws. I let go and lifted my hand to my face. My nails had turned into razor sharp, black claws. My skin had turned black and stopped its infection halfway to my elbow.

"Looks like you're more than a Full mage, darling." Rosie grabbed a hand-mirror and gave it to me. I slowly lifted the object and stared at my own, unrecognizable reflection. My teeth had sharpened to a point and long, sharp fangs like a snake poked out of my lips. A set of black horns protruded from my forehead in the shape of a wave.

"Looks like you're a demon after all." I caught Alastor's reflection in the mirror staring over my shoulder.

"A what?" I looked up at him.

"My my, you didn't tell your own soulmate what a demon is?" Rosie remarked. She put her stool away and sat back on the other pink chair. "Well, who better to tell you our glorious history than me." I remained quiet, examining myself in the mirror repeatedly.

She cleared her throat. "A long time ago, two humans went around the world to all kinds of haunted places. They seemed determined to meddle with the deepest, darkest demons they could find. And they did. Eventually, their meddling ended with creating a portal for demons to travel through. No one knows how exactly they did it, but they did. Demons came and went as they pleased, terrorizing the earth.

"Years later, humans started popping up with different kinds of magic. They weren't as strong as a demon's magic but they were nothing to scoff over. As time went on, and the Great Collapse happened, people started to forget about demons. Everyone had some kind of magic, strong or weak. That's why some people who don't look 'human' are actually demons, hell-spawn."

There was a long moment of silence.

"My you have a way with words," Alastor complimented. The two went back and forth with flirts but it was nothing but noise to me. I put the mirror down and felt my claws and dry, scaly skin. How does one even comprehend the fact that they weren't human? I was a creature. I was a completely different race. I came from hell.

"My my dear, it's nothing to fret over." Rosie grabbed my attention. "You come from a very powerful race. I'm willing to bet both your parents were demons. Though I'm not sure how you ended up in fighting rings or with a human appearance. We'll have to dig deeper." I pressed both hands into my lap. "Not tonight, though. It's very late and you ought to sleep after discovering so much about yourself. You'll have to come back and visit again."

"Rest assured, we will," Alastor said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked at his claws and ran up his arm to his terrifying smile. "Thank you Rosie, it was such a pleasure to see you again. I hope my offering will suffice."

"Oh of course Alastor. I'm curious to know more about this lovely lady, too.”

"So am I, dear, so am I."

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel husk #soulmates #soulmate au #reqs open

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

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request for draconic sorcerer! tav x astarion headcanons!!! draconic sorcerers are so fun bc you can mess around with the idea of draconic instincts while also getting cool magic B)

Damn, I even didn't know such things existed! Now I want to play as Draconic Soreceress, too!

Draconic bloodline sorcerers are those practitioners of the arcane arts who have some biological connection with dragons, either through their own relations or those of their forebears.

Wiki

Astarion x Draconic Sorcerer!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

There is fire in your veins and scales along your body.

With a draconic bloodline, there is a skill to speak the Dragon language and to cast fireballs.

Dragon blood calls out to you and you suffer from nightmares.

Of course, you know you can't be turned into a dragon - but your body can be changed beyond recognition if the magic takes upon you.

The tadpole is a blessing - the scales are gone and you don't feel the fire.

Of course, you also can't use your magic. Everybody assumes you are a ranger, whose favored enemy is a dragon.

Astarion doesn't believe you - he tastes dragon fire in your blood and demands you tell the truth.

But he isn't afraid. He loves this "spice" in you.

Besides, once he feeds on you, he can cast much deadlier fireballs than he usually does.

He has his reasons to ascend - you have your reasons to keep the tadpole.

The dragon's ancestry scares you, You know it waits and who knows what will happen once the tadpole is gone.

In your nightmares, you transform into a beast. In your nightmares, you yell in pain and terror.

And only Astarion's cold hands can soothe you.

Astarion assures you there is a way to control your powers and, for a brief moment, you believe him.

Astarion refuses to ascend and you refuse to engage with Mindflayers.

The tadpoles are gone.

Astarion cries in pain and disappears into the shadows.

But you...

Your worst nightmare comes to life.

The scales return on your cheeks and hands, red and soft.

The draconic wings burst out of your back, the nails transform into claws.

The pain is so unbearable you want to die.

Before anyone manages to help you, you rush to the dungeons.

Maybe Gale or Wyll would know what to do, but you can't think straight because of pain.

You hide in the Underdark, trying to get as far as possible from sentient beings.

You are going to be a monster, who lives in some dark cave, slowly losing her humanity and sanity.

"I suppose it's not the best days in our lives", you suddenly hear a familiar voice weeks later. "But next time, do me a favor and slow down."

You hide.

You can't let Astarion see you like that.

Let him remember you as you were. Besides, you haven't seen your reflection, you don't know how bad this is."

He doesn't insist. But he also doesn't leave. He makes a campfire and waits.

The loneliness finally is too much and you step from the shadows.

Astarion is very bad at hiding his emotions.

There is shock.

Fear.

Remorse.

But before you escape, he grabs your hand with his newfound vampiric strength.

Scales. Claws. Sharp teeth.

"Well, no tail. Pity - it has always amused me how many things tieflings and dragonborns can do with them."

But most importantly - wings!

A pair of amazing, draconic wings growing off your back.

"Can you fly?" he asks, studying them like an artist.

"I-I don't know-"

"Well, we should find out then. Dragons aren't supposed to live in dungeons. Maybe they are, but not you."

You cry in his hands as he lulls you to sleep.

Once you return to the surface, Astarion finds a mirror for you, and while you stare at your body with disgust, he caresses your skin with his cold fingers, calling you a demi-goddess.

He sews your dresses to highlight your red scales.

He asks you to pierce his skin with your claws when you have sex because it's a pleasant pain like no other.

He adores your wings.

When you hug, they cover you both with a cape.

It's difficult for you to sleep on your back, so you develop a habit of lying on the Astarion's chest, covering you both with the wings.

Even years later, you still have body image issues - the draconic magic went nuts on you, and other sorcerers are just shocked to see what has become of you.

But Astarion has none of this. You are one of a kind. The most gorgeous woman he has ever met.

He also encourages you to learn how to fly - you can't do it for a long time but still can, and every time you are back, he looks at you with adoration.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui

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djmorn · 3 months

Text

Wing Care

Raphael x Warlock!Reader (GN)

A/N: YOU WANNA TAKE CARE OF YOUR IDIOT PATRON WHO PICKED A FIGHT WITH A MORE POWERFUL DEVIL? In that case let’s just ignore that the House of Hope has healing pools which Raphael could use because I wanted to write something sweet. So here is my piece of fluff for the day.

Summary: Raphael comes to you with an assignment. But the devil seems a bit worse for wear and before he can start discussing the details with you, you offer to help him take care of his torn wings like the loyal little warlock you are.

You were meant to meet at the Devil’s Den. It is where Raphael would often conduct his business and so you were quite familiar with the place. Since Mamzell Amira has seen you visit many times before she just waved you through as usual while shooting you a playful wink.

Upstairs there was no sight of Raphael. His abode was the usual lavishly luxurious dwelling place befitting your extravagant patron. With a sigh you let yourself fall back into one of the adorned chairs and folded your hands in your lap. Nothing to do but wait. You knew better than to rummage around his belongings.

Then finally the atmosphere crackled, the air seemed to grow thicker and a well-known warmth spread all about. In a whirlwind of magic Raphael appeared before you. The fiend had shown up in his cambion form and you were glad to have closed the door, any possible uproar of panic avoided should a guest from the brothel get lost up here.

Raphael smiled: ‘There you are.’ As if it had been you who was late.

You swallowed the insolence edging on your tongue and bowed. ‘Raphael.’

Once you raised yourself up again you took a closer look at your patron. Raphael stood proud and tall as ever, horns close to touching the ceiling, his yellow eyes shining with cruel confidence. He always was a sight to behold as he towered over you. Yet something was amiss today. Usually the fiend would spread his wings out wide as soon as he’d shed his human appearance, it was one of his many magnificent theatrics that enthralled you and put fear into the hearts of his negligent contractors. Not this time though. Raphael kept his wings closer to his body, almost folding them up, and you could not help but notice that his left wing kept twitching, seemingly of its own accord.

As he saw you scrutinising him the cambion cleared his throat to direct your attention back to his face. ‘Listening to what I have to tell you of your assignment will certainly be of greater benefit to the both of us. So desist staring at me like an impertinent child who has never seen a devil before, will you? I’m a very busy man, as you well know.’ His wing twitched again and Raphael straightened his collar. You could not help but think your patron looked uncomfortable. ‘You are to pay a visit to this debtor of mine…’

‘Raphael,’ you said. He glared at you, bewildered by your interruption. ‘Raphael, did something happen to you?’

He leaned forward, pointing his sharp claw at you. ‘Listen here! I will happen to become a little angry with my favourite warlock if they continue to hold me up with their mortal follies. Understood?’

But before you could answer, Raphael clenched his teeth as if in pain and he quickly straightened up again, not able to suppress the groan escaping his lips. Without hesitation you went to his side, stretching out your arms to support the enormous creature.

‘Raphael! Master… What is wrong?’

‘Unhand me at once!’ Raphael growled. ‘There is nothing wrong with me. Engaging with you just happens to be awfully tiring today.’

You let go of him but did not move. At closer inspection you could see that there were fissures in his wings, the knuckles and joints displayed dark bruises and your patron tensed up all the more, maybe to keep the twitching at bay.

You crossed your arms in front of you. ‘Raphael, be real with me, please. It is quite obvious you’re hurt.’

‘Not at all. I had a… bit of a run-in with an unruly devil… Nothing that ought to concern you.’

‘Really now? Isn’t it my duty to serve you, Master?’ you asked in the most innocent voice you could muster. ‘I happen to have just the thing for that too.’ And with that you produced a box from your pouch, holding it out for Raphael to see. It was a salve.

‘I don’t need your charlatan’s remedy.’

‘Oh, no, Master. That’s not at all what this is. I got it from your last debtor: That mad alchemist. You remember?’ You looked about the room, your eyes falling on the pool.

‘Come on, Raphael. Sit by the pool and let me rub some of this on your wounds.’ You smiled encouragingly. ‘It’ll do you wonders, I promise.’

‘How much time did you spend in that alchemist’s laboratory? Inhaled too many toxic fumes in there? I don’t need your help.’

‘Fine. Then do me a favour and spread out your wings.’

Raphael blinked at you. ‘I beg your pardon? I should incinerate you for your rudeness today. Thinking you can order me around and fuss about me like a doting nanny…’

‘Because you can’t. You never refuse to put on a show, Raphael. You’re not doing it because you are insulted but because you can’t.’

Now amusement spread over his handsome features. ‘Ha!’ he spat. ‘I am as vigorous as one can be.’ He straightened his back, broad shoulders drawn back, spread his wings out, and with a flinch curled them back again as quickly as he could.

‘See?’ you said matter-of-factly, and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the water, Raphael in too much pain to resist. You sat him down on the edge of the pool, and took seat behind him. ‘Now, let me take a closer look. I swear, this will never leave this room.’

‘For your sake I should hope not, little mouse.’

You paid no mind to his harsh words and unscrewed the lid of the ointment, dipping two fingers inside and smearing them thoroughly with the cool cream. With care you started applying it on the cambion’s left wing – the bad one that kept twitching, delicately rubbing the edges of the torn membrane.

‘Tell me if I’m being too rough,’ you said. ‘I hope these will grow back together.’

‘They will in time. My wings have seen fiercer battles.’

You are tempted to ask him of them. To have him tell you of the long life he’s lived before your paths crossed. In the end you resist the temptation, indulging in Raphael letting you pamper him. You took care to knead the skin of his wings as gently as possible and applied the same ministrations to his bruised joints, coating them in salve and love.

It was a seldom occasion to have Raphael be so quietly beside you. For the entire time of your care the talkative devil did not utter a word. Although every now and then you could hear him sighing softly.

You moved over to the other, and once that was done finally gave some attention to the place on his back at the base of his wings, massaging the tension out of them. Raphael moaned and you grinned to yourself, glad to be shielded from your patron’s suspicious eyes by his broad frame.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my writing #my stuff

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ch3rriiii-bunn · 17 days

Note

Muzan with a demon that constantly changes to suit their needs (like if evolution was simple and easy to do). if they needed to get away very fast, they'll sprout wings and fly home. If they need to get something in the water they'll become scaley & fishy and breath water.

Seeing as Muzan hates change and has stated so... What if their s/o was like that?

Shape shifter

Paring: Muzan x Demon!Gender neutral reader

Synopsis: Muzan hates your shape-shifting (to a certain extent because I wanna make it cute)

Content: reader is a shape-shifting demon, mean Muzan, some wholesome moments, soft muzan (a little), reader taking on/turning into animal like forms, my stupid humor, Muzan being a cat person.

Word count: 0.6♡

A/n: AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA OMG. I'm gonna write it in headcanons :3

Muzan. Who hates your shape-shifting at random times. Muzan, you and gyokko heard there was a magic lake that healed humans without any medicated water. You heard the rumors, so it was your job to take Muzan and Gokko there. Muzan was about to order Gyokko to do a search drive in the lake but you, decided to take it upon yourself to dive in with the appearance of a half fish half woman, almost like a mermaid to start the search. "They're good!" Gyokko said and looked at Muzan, who's now shaking his head in filtration.

They watched you emerge from out of the water and swim back to Muzan. "I didn't find anything- AHHH!!" You screamed as Muzan began to throw salt on you, knowing full well how sea creatures react to salt. "Change back! Now!" Muzan said, and gyokko tried to stop Muzan, but he also got hit with salt as well.

Muzan. Who will take advantage of your useful blood demon when nessacary. Nakime fell ill, and Muzan needed to get somewhere quickly due to his busy schedule. When you heard your boyfriend master Muzan, needed to get somewhere quickly, the frist thing you decided to do was shape-shift yourself into a harpy. You flew, holding Muzan's arms with your claws and you looked down to see his grumpy/annoyed expression.

"That bird version of hantengu taught you how to do this, didn't he?" Muzan asked, and you nodded happy. "Yes, his name is Urogi," you said to Muzan, but he scoffed. "Yeah. You smell like him, too. Fucking disgusting" he said. You weren't paying attention and ended up crashing into the tree.

Muzan. Who needed you to catch a really fast slayer with yellow hair. The reason? Muzan couldn't stand the bright color, and so you got down on all fours, shape shifting to have the appearance of a cheetah. "When I said get him, I didn't mean like that!" Muzan shouted as you ran off and already stressed out with how stupid you look.

You stopped running and sat down exactly like a big cat. "So... should I turn into a car? I don't think I can do that," you said, bringing your paw to your chin to think meanwhile the yellow haired slayer had run away further. "GO FUCKING GET HIM" Muzan screamed.

Muzan. Who arrived at the main spot in the infinitely castle where upper moon meetings are held. "Oh wow! You really did it! Look at that Akaza-dono," Douma said. They hadn't noticed Muzan's arrival yet, and he raised his brow, moving a bit closer to see what Douma and Akaza were so invested in. Muzan noticed you used your blood demon art to shape shifts into a small cat.

He didn't even know you could ever do that, especially at this tiny size. "Mm. I didn't think you could do it. Good job, I love cats." Akaza was about to pet you when he realized his own hand had fallen to the ground next to you after being severed. "Huh?" Akaza and Douma said, relaxing that you were also gone. They look behind them and froze in fear.

"How dare you touch my significant other," Muzan said, his voice rough as he glares at Akaza and Douma. Before they could explain themselves, they heared loud purring sounds. "...Master. I think you've taken alike to one of your significant other appearances" Kokushibo leaned down to Muzan's height, snapping him out of it to realize his thumb was rubbing your cheek. When muzan realized what he was doing, he just dropped you.

"Idiotic is what it is.." he said angrily and walked away with you still as a cat following him. However, the upper 3 could see Muzan actually found this form cute since they got a glimpse of the blush on his cheeks.

#demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kny muzan #muzan x reader #muzan fluff

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thorns-and-rosewings · 6 months

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Behold, Demon Killcode for Seraphim AU!

Hehehe, yeaaaahhh this is what happened when Cherubim Lunar fully revives someone. They don't always come back the way they were before...

So the story behind this is that eventually, Cherubim Lunar eventually finds his way to the TSAMS dimension, as he has wanted to go there to meet his 'twin.' However he keeps a low profile due to the insanity that is going on. In the process he encounters the wandering, lost soul of Killcode... Whom he strikes up a conversation with.

Cherubim Lunar can speak with the dead/ghosts, often with the intent of helping them pass on or find their way. It's helpful given the vast amount of souls there always seem to be surrounding Fazbear owned locations.

Killcode's soul had been essentially lost in confusion since his death. Confused he even had a soul and their chat revealed his identity to Cherubim Lunar, who recalled stories about this being from the memories of this universes Eclipse. Lunar comments how his lost soul probably holds regret over his death. Most likely he wasn't ready to die and/or something else has him lingering in this world.

Making a long story short, while hiding in the Pizzaplex Cherubim Lunar and Killcodes ghost take notice of Bloodmoon sneaking around again.. Intending on causing further injury to Sun, Moon, Earth and their Lunar. This agitated Killcodes soul and Lunar makes a rash decision.

He appears in front of the bloodtwins and summons his magic to revive Killcode in a Bio-Mechanical body of his own imagining. The process of which is so horrifying to behold it scared Bloodmoon off.

Killcode gets revived in a body more comparable to that of Seraphim Eclipse and Arc Bloodmoon. The body having a 'tail' and various other more organic upgrades. He stands at a towering 13 feet tall, three feet taller than even Seraphim Eclipse. He's truly frightening to behold with retractable claws, massive wings and even external 'ribs' to support his elongated torso... But he remains a staunch pacifist.

Cherubim Lunar scared off Bloodmoon with the spectacle of reviving Killcode, but the price was it completely drained his energy. So he picks up the dormant body of Cherubim Lunar and takes him back to his home universe.

With help from Forkface who saw everything.

Now Killcode didn't necessarily want to return, but Cherubim Lunar didn't know that so he doesn't hold it against the little guy. He returns the unconscious Lunar to his brothers... He will be SO grounded when he wakes up.

Killcode, with his new body, returns to his world and his life, although the downside is that he needs to renovate his trailer because he is now too large for it.

The plus side? His Tinder profile got an upgrade.

As he is now capable of taking his dates on a flight, and those wings are eternally warm and feel like soft weighted blankets.

It makes cuddling up with him even better. :)

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underdark-dreams · 7 months

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I'm a slut for hurt/comfort and I'm obsessed with this trope tbh: Can we get Rolan/Tav where Tav gets downed in battle? (Obvs they can be brought back bc scrolls and revivify and what have you, I just want that sweet sweet angst.)

Rolan x Unnamed Fem!Tav: she/her

Whoo boy, we may have angst'ed too close to the sun with this one. Can't say much else without getting choked up--just love Rolan even when he's in pain. Thank you for this request!

Life, Death, Resurrection

During the ambush at Last Light Inn, the young wizard stares down the very real possibility of his dear one's death. A bittersweet night seen through Rolan's eyes.

Tags: Fem Unnamed Tav, Angst, Major Injury, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2,430 [Read on AO3]

It was like the very skies above had cracked open to let the hells stream through.

Everything roared around Rolan all at once—nightmares on wings descended in ambush through the roof of Last Light Inn, the din of screams and ripping flesh and thudding bodies against the floor overwhelming his senses before he could gather them.

Only reflex saved him as a winged horror stretched its claws high above to strike—then was pushed backwards by the thunderous force from both his hands. An arrow from Lia’s bow whistled past his ear, close enough that he felt the rush of air against his cheek.

“Fuck is happening—!” She yelled aloud to no one, another arrow already notched against her bowstring. Lakrissa sprinted in to form a line with her despite the bleeding gash on her bow arm.

Jaheira burst through the fray with eyes like steel. “Harpers, to the cleric!” The druid hit the ground on four paws—powerful teeth tore through one hellish creature’s translucent wing like it was parchment, its shrieking figure hurled against the back wall by the panther’s jaws—

Rolan wasted a precious second glancing to Isobel’s quarters above. He saw the flashes of rapid-fire spellcasting, heard the vicious scrape of metal against metal, and grasped Jaheira’s meaning in an instant. All the chaos on the lower floor was just a diversion to occupy their forces—the cleric’s room was the true focus of the ambush. And she was up there somewhere.

“Die and I’ll kill you both,” Rolan shouted to his siblings as he broke for the stairs. The blunt end of Cal’s spear swung past him in response, landing a killing blow on the ghoul Jaheira had just flung past their heads.

Supportive forces from outside the inn walls were rapidly gathering. Harper Skywin's crossbow bolt sang true through the wide front doors, piercing one monster's throat a moment too late, its claws already dripping with the warm blood of the disemboweled Harper on the floorboards.

Dammon rushed across the threshold just as Rolan's boots reached the first step. Their eyes met for only an instant as Rolan dashed upward. Behind him he heard the sharp sizzle of flesh as the smith’s blade, still glowing from the fires of his furnace, seared through the belly of the creature standing over its kill.

Rolan reached the balcony just as yet another winged ghoul touched down outside the cleric's room. He threw handful after handful of icy shards through its chest, overcome with impatient fury. Finally its impaled body fell back over the railing with a death rattle. He wheeled round in the doorway to face the scene within.

The colossal Flaming Fist's greatsword swung outward in a reckless circle—his face was disfigured by necrotic energy, dark unnatural wings sprouting from between his shoulders.

She and her companions flanked him on all sides—Rolan watched her face reflect the radiant magic of her own sword as it slashed for Marcus's shoulder. Shadowheart's arms guided a blinding bolt into the Fist's back, while from the corner Isobel called down healing energy upon her allies as rapidly as she could. The fight was nearly theirs.

Rolan joined to aim a spell through the fray, channeling every bit of the Weave he could reach to bind and weaken the monster. Marcus roared in frustration as he felt their numbers rapidly turning the tide against him.

Several things happened all at once. With a raging strike, Karlach swung her battleaxe down upon the Fist’s neck to cleave at the exposed gap in his armor, landing the death blow that would bring him to his knees.

And in the same instant—maybe because his savior was closest, or just the last face Marcus glimpsed in death—Rolan saw the Fist's hand raise toward her too late to intervene. A final burst of necrotic magic pushed out from his collapsing body, rushed through her chest, exited like black smoke from between her shoulder blades.

Her mouth formed a soft “oh!” of surprise. In the next moment, Rolan watched her figure crumple and fold over itself on its way to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“No—” The hoarse word barely escaped his throat. The Gods couldn’t be so fucking cruel to take her now, not after she’d just given him back the only family he’d ever known—

Rolan scrambled toward her through pools of cooling blood, kneeled where she lay. An iron fist gripped around him. "Wake up," he ordered her limp and unresponsive body, even as he gathered it in his arms. "Damn it, wake up!"

All the rest of them standing around him were forgotten. Somehow he was stumbling down the stairs with her, rushing into the barracks that had rapidly begun filling with the other wounded and bleeding. The rest of them could wait; she must be the first.

He laid her body out on the nearest empty bed. Not body—he corrected his mind in a wild panic—her eyes would open and she would live. Right now, her features lay so still it filled him with dread.

Why was no one descending instantaneously to heal her? He would’ve shouted if he could find his voice. Isobel was practically on death's door herself—Rolan watched her slump against the wall and wipe dark blood from her mouth. He turned away, unable to bear the fucking sight of her anyway, not after what her life may have just cost him. He cast around desperately for the Sharran.

Shadowheart was beside him in a second, already peeling off her bloodied gloves.

"Please," he begged. "Tell me she's not—"

Shadowheart's hands gripped his shoulders, vice-like. "If you want her to live, go. I need to concentrate." Her words broke through, and Rolan stumbled backwards in mute obedience.

Only his other fears for Cal and Lia could have drawn him from the room. He found them gathered around the central hall with the rest of the able-bodied, wiping the infernal blood from their weapons and taking stock of the casualties in a daze. The three of them all held each other wordlessly. Through the heat rising from the open hearth, Rolan glimpsed Alfira and Lakrissa doing the same.

With that concern eased, his mind was consumed with the one that remained. He paced across the hall in an effort to follow her companion's warning to stay away for as long as he could stand.

Once he couldn't, Rolan returned to the makeshift infirmary to stand helpless at the foot of her bed. Shadowheart took no notice of him; her eyes glowed blank as her hands directed a powerful flow of magic into her patient's chest. In this wan light, Rolan found her features more fragile and delicate than he’d ever seen them.

As the ritual came to an end, Shadowheart leaned across the unconscious figure to check the pulse at her wrist.

"How is she?" Rolan asked, terrified of the answer.

“She’ll be all right,” the cleric told him as she rose to take her leave. “But that was powerful magic; her body needs time. She probably won’t wake for hours.” He ignored the note of suggestion in her voice.

"I'll stay with her," Rolan said, final. Shadowheart didn’t question him as she moved away toward the next injured.

Rolan slumped cross-legged on the floor near her shoulder. From this angle, he could see the rise and fall of her chest under her tunic. Her bloodied half-plate lay against the wall behind him; no doubt Shadowheart had removed it to heal her wounds. Her breaths were shallow but steady.

Rolan found his own chest rising and falling in tandem, as if he might lend her some of his strength by doing so.

At the long table near the center of the room, he heard Jaheira's Harpers grouping around her in deep conversation about their next move. Marcus had been with them since the beginning, Rolan was aware—which meant that Ketheric Thorm had been one step ahead of their strategy this whole time. Rolan heard her name brought up several times in urgent excitement. She was their secret weapon. She could infiltrate Moonrise Towers this very night, and she still wouldn't be expected.

Rolan closed his eyes against the incessant discussion. He couldn’t care less about Marcus, or Thorm, or Isobel, or the entire Shadow Curse itself for that matter. There they all stood alive and well, plotting the next bloody feat she was meant to undertake, as if her spent body wasn't fighting for life in the bed a few steps away. Angry disbelief rose in his throat.

"For fuck's sake," Rolan interjected through them, "can't you all just let her rest for one fucking night?"

Surprised faces turned toward him. He didn't care if it branded him a traitor to their cause, didn't care what they thought of him at all, as long as she was left in peace for once.

It seemed Jaheira was the only one wise enough to understand. "The cub's right," she decided. "We regroup at dawn. Tonight, we rest."

Once the Harpers had filed out of the room on her orders, Jaheira turned back to him from the doorway. “Look after her,” she said, almost with gentleness. Rolan didn’t need the druid or anyone else to tell him that. But he said nothing as she left the room.

Rolan was finally left alone with his thoughts as the fire in the stone hearth behind him burned down to coals. Before long all the other infirmary occupants were sound asleep, drifting away to join the one beside him. From across the dark room Art Cullough whispered the same snatches of his halting song.

Rolan’s weary back ached despite his resolve to keep watch over her. He’d only rest his head for a little while, he told himself. He folded his arms on the edge of her mattress and lay his cheek across them so he could still face her, one hand brushing against hers. He took it without thought.

Her hands were cold. It didn’t worry him; he knew by now that they usually were. Many times in the past she’d laughed with embarrassment whenever her hands met his skin for one reason or another. Nevertheless, he wrapped her fingers under the warmth of his palm.

Rolan closed his eyes as he listened to her soft breath rise and fall.

He awoke some hours later to the sensation of something tickling his hand. Rolan raised his head groggily, realizing through the dark that it was her thumb brushing across his knuckles.

“Rolan?” Her voice whispered.

“I’m here—” He straightened up, trying to see her face through the dim light. His bent legs had gone painfully numb under him.

“What time s’it.”

He had no clue, just having awakened himself. “Past midnight,” he guessed, judging by the spare red glow of the coals in the hearth.

“Where’s Isobel?” She croaked out.

Rolan’s relief at hearing her voice again was colored with disbelief that she was already asking after others. “She’s fine, asleep upstairs. How do you feel?”

“It was Ketheric’s orders,” she explained, ignoring his question. “Taken alive…why he sent Marcus.”

To Rolan’s mind that didn’t begin to explain the attack, but he couldn’t care about all that now.

“It’s over,” he assured her. “Your companions are all safe. Everyone’s sleeping off the fight. You should too.”

He heard her sigh in relief, and then the sound worked itself into a pained cough. “Feel like Karlach clocked me in the ribs,” she winced.

“Should I get Shadowheart?” Rolan was ready to wake her friend without delay. He had half-risen before her fingers clenched against his to keep him where he knelt.

“Stay,” she requested, then added almost shyly, “please.”

Rolan was back beside her in an instant. Wherever she wanted him, that’s where he’d be. He settled himself against the edge of her bed once more, their hands still connected.

She was quiet for a long moment. “I suppose now we take the fight to Moonrise Towers.”

“By all the Hells,” Rolan muttered. He wasn’t upset at her—just at every other circumstance that weighed and pressed down on her shoulders. “Don’t you think you can take one night for yourself before you have to rush off and save us all again?”

She shifted against the bedding. “The element of surprise won’t last forever, Rolan. You know that as well as I do. The sooner we dispatch Ketheric, the sooner we can finally make our way to Baldur’s Gate, all of us.”

Rolan knew she was appealing to his personal motives, but he resisted. “Think about yourself for once,” he instructed her. “Just rest for now. Sleep. Gods know you deserve it.”

She fell silent for a while. Rolan tried to make out her expression in the dim light; he wondered if he’d been too harsh.

“Oh, just come here,” she said suddenly. “My back hurts just looking at you.” With a soft grunt of effort she scooted to the far side of the bed; Rolan realized she was making a spot for him.

He hesitated only for a moment before climbing up beside her. The mattress was firm and lumpy, but after the unyielding wood floor, it felt soft as a cloud against his stiff limbs. She settled on her side to examine him up close.

“Your face is all bloody,” she said. Her eyes reflected just enough firelight that he could make out their expression of concern.

Rolan glanced down at himself, realizing his skin and clothing were still flecked and stained head to toe from the night’s battle. His face must be in a similar state. “I don’t think it’s mine,” he answered honestly.

“Goodness,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “What a dashing hero.” Rolan couldn’t make out if she was teasing or serious, and wasn’t sure which possibility made his heart thump faster. He deflected by bringing her knuckles up to his lips.

Rolan felt her sigh again in reaction, more relaxed this time.

“Rolan?”

“Mm.”

“Hold me for a while?” She asked quietly.

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Rolan’s arms slid under and over her, drawing her frame near to him. Her head bent to his chest as he held her close. Her brave, reckless, kind, vulnerable self.

Before very long, her breathing reached the heavy cadence of sleep. Rolan drifted toward unconsciousness not far behind her. It was dreamless; his arms held all he could want.

#rolan x tav #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 fic #angst #hurt/comfort #injury #fem unnamed tav #underdark-dreams #soitbe-soitis #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

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