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ssukidesu · 1 year ago

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Inextricably Knotted (an Inukag + Jane Eyre AU) [Chapter 8]

Summary: Kagome Higurashi was orphaned as a baby and raised by her cruel aunt until the age of ten, after which she went to school and learned the art of service and self-suppression. Now eighteen, Kagome takes a job as the governess of Shippo, the young ward of the great and mysterious Lord Inuyasha Taisho.

But as Kagome gets to know her bemusing master, a ghost seems to haunt his estate, hinting that there is a long-lost secret hiding on the third floor.

(Read on AO3)

tag list: @heynikkiyousofine @xanthippe-writes

Chapter 8: An Unexpected Guest

Another week passed. Kagome managed to adjust to her subjection to not only the party’s gatherings at night but also its foul glances and slights during the day. Because of her consistent evening presence with them, Kagome could no longer successfully be ignored. Most of their attention came in the form of treating her like a servant. The ladies would ask her to refill their tea and wine, or to deliver letters to the courier, or to bring them their shawls when the fireplace did not offer enough heat. When Mr. Taisho was present to witness it, he would say nothing to deter them or correct the mistake. Just this morning, after Lady Kagura interrupted Kagome’s breakfast to ask her to fetch a quill and ink, the latter lifted her gaze for a brief second to her master across the dining room and found him already looking at her, an expression of quiet curiosity on his face. She could not stifle her look of annoyance toward him, and she could have sworn that his eye twinkled with entertainment in response.

Later that night, before Mr. Taisho joined them all in the drawing room, Kagome ascertained that Lady Yura had witnessed the subtle exchange. The demoness, who currently sat between her sister and Sir Koga, beckoned her over with a sharp smile plastered on her face.

“Yes ma’am?” said Kagome politely, looking her squarely in the eye.

“I’ve been wondering something about you. Would you mind satisfying my curiosity?” she purred.

Kagome’s eyes flicked to the two beside her and determined that they were not debriefed of her plot beforehand. Lady Kagura seemed to anticipate her sister’s words excitedly, while Sir Koga seemed more so to dread them, if his tight, cringing smile was any indication.

“If it is within my power, ma’am,” she answered.

Yura reclined in her chair and brought one gloved hand to trace the pearls gracing her pale neck. “How old are you?”

“I’ll be nineteen this autumn.”

The sisters shared a scandalously amused look.

Lady Yura’s white teeth flashed an antipathetic grin of which only females were capable. “I had an inkling! How strange it is—to be teaching a boy only a couple of years younger than you. I do wonder how old you’ll be once he graduates from your tutelage. What will it take for him to reach adulthood—fifteen, twenty more years?”

Lady Kagura nodded in agreement. Kagome caught Koga staring at her with a look of smothered discomfort. She offered him a small smile, appreciative of his silent sympathy.

Lady Yura continued, “And, oh—how fragile the human constitution is! There are many who do not even make it to thirty five due to sickness. Can you imagine, sister, living only a few decades before being pursued by death?”

Kagome bit the inside of her cheek. “My lot is indeed less agreeable than yours, my Lady. In fact, I probably ought to conclude our conversing this instant to save myself the precious seconds that dwindle away as we speak.”

Her heart pounded at her own insolence. Lady Yura scowled at her, and in the corner of her eye, she saw Sir Koga stifle laughter. She would have flicked her gaze to him, had not another voice risen from behind her.

“Miss Higurashi, surely you know better than to encourage Lady Yura’s playfulness. You speak of precious seconds, but one does not trifle with her without a full hour to spare for the spar.”

Kagome turned at her master’s teasing tone, and had not her jaw already been clenched, it would have fallen open.

Mr. Taisho stood not three feet from her, his silver hair pinned in a simple yet masculine bun at the base of his neck, his braided forelocks draping along his jaw and secured beneath, much like the style she had performed on him months before. He quirked a brow at her speechlessness, a fond, knowing look telling her that he had succeeded in catalyzing the reaction he desired.

“You may return to your seat, Miss Higurashi,” he said.

Kagome gulped in relief at his command, pulling her eyes from his face and to the floor in one movement as she bowed her head once. She resumed her lonely place—Shippo having been sent to bed early due to a mild sickness—and picked up her book again. As her eyes traced the words, her master’s voice sabotaged her focus.

“I’ll be erranding to town early tomorrow. Would that I could stay up gallivanting with you all till dawn, but I must retire if I’m to survive the trip. You can stay up as late as you wish; just tell the servants when you are turning in so they can put the drawing room to rest.”

Kagome peered up at him curiously, wondering if he had the audacity to expect her to stay until the rest of the party left. Mr. Taisho strode toward the door, which was near her seat, and before she could begin lamenting her charge, he paused, leaned down toward her, and muttered pleasantly, “You can retire whenever you like, as well.” With that, he continued out of the room and to the right. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Was that his way of being subtle? thought Kagome in horror as she felt the weight of the room’s scrutinous eyes. Lady Yura managed to school her features, but Kagome felt the very air between them darken with a new shadow that no doubt spelled future trouble.

As much as Kagome feared the thought that the group saw through his faux dismissal, she did not feel at liberty to play dumb herself. She closed her book, stood, bowed her head once more, and exited the room. She even turned left upon leaving to make it appear like she was not following him; not until the door closed behind her did she timidly spin on her heel to begin her true pursuit.

Which did not take long—for he, too, had only pretended. He was waiting on her, back against the wall and arms crossed. The amused smirk on his face told her that he saw her little ploy to throw off his guests during her exit.

Blood rushed to her face. Careful not to outright stomp, Kagome approached his relaxed form. She was just about to demand an explanation when he held up a shushing finger and kicked off the wall. His back to her, he led them on.

Once they passed the bend and gathered a safe distance from the parlor, he spoke: “I need you for something.”

“At ten thirty at night?”

“As I said,” he began, turning his head to glance goldenly at her, “I’m leaving early in the morning. I’d rather not wait.”

“And you didn’t see it fit to approach me during my working hours?” she drawled.

“I’ll add a pound to your wages for the trouble,” he said sardonically.

Kagome was curious, yes—but as it became increasingly clear that he was leading them to his bedroom, the pounding of her heart almost became too much to bear.

Upon reaching his door, he stood within the frame and held it open for her. She moved to pass through the narrow path without making eye contact, but he held out his arm just in time to stop her. She peered up at him quizzically and found all evidence of humor gone. “Still think I might be the kind of savage to tear apart unsuspecting humans, do you?”

Kagome opened her mouth to protest, but his glare silenced her. “I could have heard your heartbeat from a mile away. You earnestly think I’ve brought you here to harm you? If that were so, I’d at least raise your salary by five pounds for the trouble,” he teased.

Kagome pouted in defense. “It is strange being beckoned to a man’s quarters so late at night.”

In response, he lowered his arm to allow her passage.

The fireplace and lamps were lit, basking his room in a warm orange glow. Once inside, she stopped after only a few feet, her nerves whispering to stay as far from his couch and bed as possible—not that her logical brain suspected foul intent on his part, but she felt a spirit of wildness that made her jittery and unknowable to herself.

He passed by her and walked to his desk. He shuffled through papers a moment, scowling at every letter that did not prove the item of interest, until finally he found his prize. She could not see it from where she stood, but once he returned to his place in front of her, she saw that it was a small envelope.

“It came this afternoon. It’s addressed to you,” he stated, extending it.

She did not immediately move to take it, her gaze instead fixed suspiciously on his face. “What is it?” she pressed.

Inuyasha glowered at her hesitance, taking a half step closer to insist her receipt. “I wouldn’t know. I’m not one to intercept others’ mail. It is your business alone, unless you’re feeling talkative.”

Offering him one final tentative glance, Kagome took it. It was addressed to her in an unassuming fashion: To Miss Kagome Higurashi, governess at the residence of Lord Inuyasha Taisho, Judai-Ju Hall. There was no return address.

She peered back up at him and found his eyes wide with interest and ears angled squarely toward her.

“What—was it written in blood or something?” she tittered.

He puffed air from his nose and glared at her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Forgive me for being curious. You’re most mysterious, with your supposed lack of relations. You’ve never received mail before. I can’t help it.”

“Well, then I suppose I should leave before you do turn savage and rip the envelope apart."

A month before, Kagome never could have imagined that she would feel comfortable enough to joke in such a way. But after listening night after night to the lighthearted humor of his friends, she felt that she could survive something this small.

But perhaps she was mistaken. Her small grin froze when he clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes, his chin tilting up to make his downward gaze outright deriding. He took a step toward her, which she mirrored with her own step backwards. He stepped again, and again, until her back was pressing against the door. She had half a mind to turn the knob and flee, but he finally halted, and his hands stayed in his pockets. But he was close enough that she could smell the lingering cigar smoke on his breath.

His simmering eyes bore into her frightened ones. She sucked in a breath and began to apologize, “Sir, I didn’t mean—”

But then he was smiling. With her return to silence, he began to chuckle. “You say I do not frighten you,” he began lowly, teeth glinting in the firelight. She suddenly recalled the last time they were alone together in this very room—when he was near her quite similar to this. But his look now was far more vicious. He came even closer, lowered his face to her neck, and breathed deeply, the tip of his nose brushing her pulse. He went on, “But when it comes to it, you flee at the littlest things.” He blew a warm stream of air against her throat, as if to prove his point with an experiment. She felt the husk of his voice reverberate throughout her whole body. “Now, show me those wings of yours.”

She had tilted her face to pull away from him—which only served to give him greater access to her skin—and at the sensation of his breath and the command of his voice, she snapped into action, hand finally fumbling for the knob. Once she found it, she yanked it wildly and nearly fell backwards at its immediate opening. The air of the hall was far crisper, and it felt like escaping the entrapment of a dream. She stumbled backwards, eyes glued to his smug face all the while, and managed to stutter a “Goodnight,” before turning to flee. He did not follow.

Upon entering her room, Kagome absentmindedly approached her vanity to undo her hair and found her face and neck glowing crimson. She inspected her neck where he had nuzzled her and found no evidence—not that she thought there would be any—despite the lingering sensation of tingling.

The envelope, which she had placed on her desk, remained unopened.

With Mr. Taisho gone the next morning, and with Shippo still ill, Kagome had very little reason to leave her bedroom. She would have stayed all day—if only to avoid encountering the sisters—had not her stomach rumbled its displeasure.

Luckily, it appeared that the master’s absence also gave the others a reason to stay scarce. Kagome only encountered Kaede in the kitchen.

Upon greeting her, Lady Kaede mused aloud, “Just when I become used to running a nearly vacant house, visitors keep coming from the woodwork…”

“Has someone new come today, ma’am?” asked Kagome while she filled her plate with biscuits from the covered basket on the table.

“Indeed—one Suikotsu from the continent. He says he is an old acquaintance of Lord Taisho’s, and he insisted this acquaintance permitted his presumption to come and stay unannounced.”

Kagome felt just as doubtful about that as Lady Kaede looked. “I certainly hope so. Is he a demon?”

The old woman shook her head in disapproval. “Human. I just hope that I am not berated for believing him, should it come out that the master does not approve of his residence.”

“Where is the man now?”

“I situated him in a room perhaps thirty minutes ago. I told him he could visit the parlor if he liked, though our other guests whom he confirmed he did not know would likely be there.”

“Do you know when Mr. Taisho will be home?” asked Kagome.

“It will likely be late evening, at best. He told me to anticipate having dinner served without him.”

“I see,” observed Kagome. “Well, let me know if there is any way I can be of use to you in the meantime.”

Kaede smiled tiredly. “Thank you, my dear. I know.”

Kagome wondered as she continued eating if Mr. Taisho would be upset if she abstained from the group tonight. Something about witnessing a human stranger amidst the demonic party seemed unpleasant, on the off chance that the latter felt insulted by his unannounced presence. If Kagome were manager, she likely would have tried her best to prevent his meeting them at all costs.

After breakfast, Kagome paid a visit to Shippo, who was still ill in bed. She suspected he only had a cold, as he had no fever. She read to him for a couple of hours, more for the sake of abating his loneliness than of fulfilling her educational duties. He seemed grateful for the distraction and attention.

The day otherwise passed without incident—as far as she allowed herself to know. She did not visit the parlor herself to see if this Suikotsu would indeed join the company; if he had, and if something unpleasant had occurred, Kagome decided that ignorance would be the best way to avoid part of the blame.

Kagome planned to persist in her avoidance the entire night; however, when dinner time approached, Kaede came to her in the library and asked kindly if Kagome wouldn’t mind sitting in on the evening occasion, as Suikotsu had apparently stated his intent to join everyone after dinner to await the arrival of his supposed friend. Kaede, who could not attend due to other business, assured Kagome that her only responsibility would be to call for her if any unpleasantries were exchanged.

Kagome obeyed, of course. She arrived first, as she always did, and the party filtered in after they finished dining. No unfamiliar face yet marred the group, and Kagome hoped that he had changed his mind. But nearly ten minutes after everyone was settled with their card games and trivial conversations, the door cracked open.

The man looked unassuming enough; he appeared to be in his mid thirties, his black hair absent of gray but his face absent of youth. His clothes were fashionable enough, his comfortable economic standing made clear by the shine of his buttons and the flawlessness of his shoes.

The room—already quiet for its lack of the master—quieted even further. Kagome held her breath. Their expressions were not surprised, and she figured they were informed of his potential appearance. Suikotsu’s own expression was far easier than Kagome’s would have been in his position. She wondered for a moment if this was confidence or stupidity.

He bowed his head to the group in greeting. “Good evening,” he began with a voice far more effeminate than his relatively masculine features would have suggested. “I am Suikotsu. Forgive my sudden arrival; I do not suspect I will be at Jidai-Ju Hall long, as I am only here for a matter of business with the master. Do not alter your operations tonight for my sake.”

Lady Yura’s mother took the reins as the makeshift hostess and rose from her seat. “It is no issue—we are happy to make your acquaintance. Help yourself to some tea and wine,” she said. Kagome’s surprise at the woman’s hospitality was humbled immediately when, upon Suikotsu turning his back to shed his coat on the back of the couch, the woman exchanged a look of agitated amusement with her daughters at her side. She made a move to pour him a glass of wine nonetheless.

Suikotsu noticed her and said, “No wine, thank you. The tea is plenty.” He approached the tea tray on the table and served himself.

After Suikotsu settled on the couch, which faced the party amiably but was otherwise isolated, Lady Yura led the way in returning her sanctified acquaintances to their previous activities. The man sat patiently, eyes roaming from person to person as they conversed, though Kagome felt that something in his eyes spoke of aimlessness and absence of true thought. He must have felt her gaze, as he flicked his eyes over to her distant form at the window. Noticing her humanity for the first time, he offered her a soft smile of fraternity, and Kagome returned it. A simpleton he may prove, but she did find a surprising comfort in their shared mortality.

The clock ticked eight o’clock. She suspected the party would retire soon if Lord Taisho did not make an appearance. Kagome had numbed herself to time with a book, which she combed through so ravenously that she was startled by her encounter with the back cover.

When she lifted her eyes, she noticed that Suikotsu was engaging with Lord Koga. They seemed to be discussing business of some kind, and to her relief, Suikotsu seemed to be both keeping up with the demon and avoiding any unsuitable topics.

Kagome stood, stretched her back, and returned the book to the shelf. She muttered a pardon to anyone near enough to hear—whom she assumed was all with pointed and uninterested ears—and went to the earth room to relieve herself. Once finished, she considered not returning at all. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but she supposed she would be remiss to neglect Lady Kaede’s wishes. She directed her steps back to the parlor.

The hallway was gloomy, the long patterned curtains swaying slightly from the window drafts. Candles lit the way, though their light was dim. It was always this way on low moon nights at Jidai-Ju Hall, what with the thickness and height of the surrounding forest muting any natural light that might have traveled from nearby towns. Kagome slowed her steps to passively peer out the windows as she walked. She could barely make out the tree-line. As if suddenly waking from a comatose state, Kagome recalled the nighttime appearance months ago of the bright serpentine spirit that came upon the house from the wood. She had decided back then to not voice this vision to anyone, and she felt this had been the right decision. While asleep or awake, she had not seen the creature since—and she became increasingly convinced that it had been a construct of a mind hovering between dream and reality.

Yet still, with each step, a part of her tensed when her sight of the wood was interrupted by the dividing walls between the windows. Indeed, every reemergence of that dark forest was preceded by a vague concern that it would not now appear as dark as it had a second before.

“Proving a truant, are you?”

This was the deep voice of her master from behind, equally frightful and soothing.

Unable to help herself, Kagome smiled at his playfulness. She was glad he was in a good mood—perhaps he would take the news of Suikotsu better. She halted her steps but did not turn. “I could say the same to you, sir. Your poor guests have found your absence most distressing.”

His voice was closer now, though not quite over her shoulder. “I hope they’ve gone to no great pains to entertain themselves.”

“I assure you they, on the contrary, are all but wallowing in their boredom. They will be happy to hear of your arrival.”

“It is a shame that they won’t ,” he said mysteriously. She thought it peculiar that he should not wish to see his apparent beloved and her family—even if his affections were performative. He stepped forward to take the place by her left side. When her eyes beheld him, she found his expression peaked with interest. His hair was pinned back the same way as before.

“Are you wishing to retire undisturbed?” she asked.

“Perhaps.”

“Then you are out of luck,” she began, reveling in her own opportunity to vex him.

He quirked a brow, his smile unwavering. “Oh? And who are you to tell me what I cannot do?”

“It isn’t about who I am,” she rejoined. “Who are you to neglect the arrival of an unsolicited visitor?”

To her dismay, though not to her surprise, his expression fell into a quick scowl—one of his more natural and habitual looks. “What’s the meaning of this? Someone has come unannounced?”

Kagome couldn’t suppress her cringe. “Yes, sir. He is in the parlor now—but do not blame the widow, as she did try to dissuade him. Out of fear of you, she did not outright reject him of the right.”

Inuyasha found this part of the news most bothersome, if his rolling eyes and clenching fists were any indication. “Who is the man?”

“One Suikotsu, sir. I believe he came from the continent.”

As soon as the name left her lips, Inuyasha’s body froze, eyes widening and jaw clenching shut. Then, in one motion, Inuyasha lunged to grasp her hand and tug her wordlessly down the hall a ways until they reached one of the offices. His grip was firm, the peaks of his claws digging in slightly. He released her once inside and briskly shut the door with both hands. He did not lock it, but his sudden desire to hide them fretted her all the same.

“What is the matter? Is he dangerous? Why’ve you hidden us?” she quavered, clutching her arms to her breast.

His back was still to her, his hands still pressed to the door. His voice was low—both with rugged emotion and with obvious desire to remain quiet. “He is a danger to none but me.”

“What do you mean, sir? Has he come to harm you?”

Inuyasha laughed bitterly at that, and he finally turned to face her, though his head was downtrodden. “He would never dream of harming me. He is… ignorant of his power.”

Kagome furrowed her brow, heart no longer pounding like a drum. “I don’t understand, sir.”

He did not seek to remedy her confusion. “Were you with them all the time until just recently?”

“Yes.”

“And he did not say anything peculiar?”

“No, sir. Nothing that stirred any trouble.”

Inuyasha seemed to relax his shoulders at that, if only slightly. But, as anxiety left him, it seemed to be replaced ounce by ounce with despair. He walked over to the desk and braced his hands on the wood, hanging his head. He was still for a full moment, during which Kagome observed him with quiet intensity. A brisk curse left his lips, and a hand came up to rub his eyes. He muttered so lowly she almost could not hear, “I wish I were on a deserted island someplace, and that you were my only company.”

Kagome felt a thrill cover her skin, but she suppressed her shiver. She approached him and timidly laid a hand on his shoulder. She craned her head to meet his gaze, only to find his eyes clenched shut.

“Sir, let me help you. I hate seeing you distressed. Surely there is something I can do?” Her own voice crumbled until it was only a whisper.

He looked up at her then, eyes level with hers for his depressed posture over the desk. His golden irises flicked between hers for a moment, and Kagome fought the simultaneous urges to shrink back—and to lean forward.

His breathless voice startled her. “Go and fetch me a glass of wine from the parlor. Inspect their faces and conversations for anything amiss, and then return to me here.”

Broken out of her fancy, she felt happy to be given an errand. Kagome bowed her head in acceptance.

As Kagome walked briskly back down the hall, she prayed that the party had miraculously retired in the short amount of time that had passed since her leave. But they had not.

She reentered with a single knock and found everyone still present, though almost no one conversed. Suikotsu was sipping his tea and occupying himself with a newspaper. The others were exactly as she had left them.

She walked coolly over to the wine pitcher and prayed no one would notice her; her wish was more or less granted, as all but Lady Yura kept their sights settled on whatever book, paper, or card they held. This lady did, however, offer her the distasteful look of someone who thought she was taking a liberty by pouring wine. But Lady Yura said nothing.

Kagome filled the glass and escaped the room without incident once again—though on her way out the door, she had the keen sensation of a shadow gnashing at her heels. She ignored it.

Kagome returned to the office and saw Inuyasha still standing, his front no longer braced over the desk but rather his back now against it, no doubt watching the door for her arrival. She approached, apparently looking less confident than he hitherto wished.

“Well?” he pressed.

“There appeared no incident, sir. Everyone was easy.”

Kagome could tell he was fighting to keep his expression neutral and unbothered—a silly attempt, in her view, as he had already bared his fears to her a couple minutes before.

“I see,” he said. “And they appeared no closer to finishing the night?”

Kagome hummed. “I could not tell. They seem to have run out of conversations, so it may not prove long.”

“I see.”

Inuyasha abandoned the desk and took a seat upon the bench that pressed flush against the wall beside her. She held her breath, his newfound apathetic silence nearly as unbearable as his prior anxious questioning. She would not ask to be excused; if she could help it, she would stay by his side all night if it meant the grip of melancholy loosened even slightly.

Inuyasha leaned forward to place his forearms against his thighs. His eyes remained stuck to the floor. His voice was reticent. “What would you do if every person in that room came in a unit and spat at me?”

After recovering from initial confusion, Kagome’s face hardened. “I would turn them out of the room,” she said simply.

“And if we were to join them in the parlor only to be met with cold silence as all of them rose to leave me one by one? Would you leave with them?”

“No, sir—I’d much rather stay with you.”

His smile was wormwood, his eyes now inspecting his clawed hands, which were pressed together in contemplation. “And if they laid you under a ban for adhering to me?”

Kagome disliked his line of questioning, but she did not flee from it. She could tell he needed her honesty, and she would be remiss to neglect him now. “I doubt I would hear of their ban at all—and it would be no concern of mine what people think of me outside these walls.”

Inuyasha finally lifted his gaze to her, and he stared unblinking for a moment. Then, he stood and stepped toward her, keeping their eyes locked. His voice trembled slightly—so slightly that a stranger would know no difference. “So you could dare censure for my sake?”

Kagome was lost in gold—lost in the furrowed desperation of his brow and in the weak frown of his lips—but she could still feel the tattered rope in her hand, her lifeline. She tugged it. “For the sake of any friend who deserved it.”

He had apparently shifted his eyes downward at some point, but his eyes lifted back to hers at that. “I see,” he said in a strange voice.

“Is there anything else I can do, sir? Do you wish me to tell him you will meet with him in the morning?”

“No,” he said quickly, almost harshly. He soothed his tone and hooked a finger around hers where it hung at her side, bringing it close to trace his thumbs over the back of her hand’s skin. “No, little bird. I will meet with him tonight. There is nothing left for you to do.”

Kagome blushed at the treatment, but worry still hardened her stomach. “If anything arises that could benefit from my help, please tell me. You can wake me, if needed.”

He smiled down at her. “If I need help, I promise you that I will seek it from your hand.”

Kagome bowed, deciding after all to interpret this as a dismissal, though his subsequent expression implied he didn’t mean it as one. But he allowed her to go without another word, and released her hand.

She came to her room and readied for bed, heart pounding all the while—for her master, for Suikotsu, and for the coming revelation of what the latter came to do here.

She laid still in her bed for an imperceptible amount of time. But eventually, in her half-conscious state, Kagome heard distantly the voice of Mr. Taisho say amiably, “I’m glad you’ve been well, Suikotsu. Let me know if there is anything else I can do to make you feel welcome.”

The muffled sound of thanks pleased her ears, and she resigned herself to a pleasant night’s rest. It did not take long before a dream enraptured her—a sweet dream that began with the sound of her door creaking open after a soft knocking. Even in her dream, her eyes remained closed—but she knew her visitor to be her master. Something in her could sense him, as if her soul knew the hum and affect of his own. She could almost see him through her closed lids, see the imprint of his spirit as he approached her bed with a light foot. She felt the weight of his hands on both sides of her head, felt the slow approach of his breath. Felt the softness of lips on her own, slow and feather-light, then deep and firm. The smell of him was nearly enough to convince her it was real.

But when stirred from her dormancy, he was gone, both body and soul, too fast and silent for any resident of flesh to manage—human or demon. She was indeed alone.

But she was happy.

The near absolute darkness of the world outside her window resolidified her unconsciousness. Her eyelids calmed their fluttering, and she permitted herself the liberty of remembering Inuyasha’s closeness, of imagining his touch, of pretending his affection. She fancied a vision of him coming to her room to simply lay with her, the both of them wearing the egalitarian attire of sleep and seeking the universal desire of warmth. In her mind, her master did not have to be her master: he could simply be her Inuyasha—a man who was free to locate his love wherever he wished. And in her mind, the idea that she could be the recipient of such love proved a delusion believable enough to be the subject of a hopeful dream.

Her fantasy did not last long, as sleep came upon her with yet another soft and sweet kiss. It is for this reason that Kagome did not notice the pale light growing beyond the glass of her window—growing, growing, growing, and then disappearing instantly, as if it was swallowed by the house in one motionless gulp.

#inextricably knotted #fanfiction #inukag #jane eyre #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #another monster of a chapter

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iamthedukeofurl · 3 years ago

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Horizon Forbidden West Thoughts Pt.1

Nobody who follows me cares, but whatever. Aloy as a character is weird to me, because she’s got, like, three different “Hero” backstories. She was created as a Clone of Elisabet Sobek, the Woman Who Saved The World, specifically in the hopes that she would one day Save The World Again. But as far as we know, GAIA didn’t spew out a SuperSoldier Hero Baby, just plopped out a clone of Elisabet Sobek and hoped the world would take it from there. The only thing we know her genetics give her is the master key to the Zero Dawn systems. But, we already have “Clone of the Old Hero created to Save the World”. Then we have her physical abilities, which can be mostly attributed to her upbringing, not just as a Nora, but as a Nora Outcast being raised by Rost. Rost didn’t just raise her to survive in the wilds, but with an eye towards her completing the Proving so she could join the Nora. Considering who he was as a person, we know Rost raised her for his definition of success, so she came out of her upbringing a master fighter, archer, and survivalist. “Raised in the Wilderness by a Mysterious Badass” is an origin story of it’s own, and she’s got that too. Finally, we have her intellectual abilities and familiarity with technology. Aloy is one smart cookie, but a lot of her advantages come from the fact that she fell in a hole as a little girl and found A Focus, a miraculous device that not only lets her interface with old world technology, but which, at least as the game presents it, seems basically ideal for surviving in the world of Horizon. It gives her survival skills, like tracking animals and identifying plants, it lets her scan machines for weaknesses, in Forbidden West (I forget if this is the case in Zero Dawn) it even lets her scan a pile of rubble and be like “Yeah, you could probably pry that open”. And admittedly, that’s a lot of just game mechanic, but the watsonian presentation is that her Focus just lets her Do All This Stuff. So Aloy gets to wander through the world like Sherlock Holmes because she fell in a hole and found a Focus. And “Has and knows how to use a Miraculous Device” is ALSO an origin story on it’s own. Other characters talk about her “Second Sight�� and ability to make connections no-one else could...and it’s because she has a super AR triangle. I bring this up because Forbidden West spends a lot of ink on how Aloy is really, really extraordinarily capable. Sure, she may not start the game at the same mechanical power level as she ended Zero Dawn, but the story never treats her as anything less than A Veteran Hero. When I heard about the Kulrut I was like “Oh I see we’re going to have to do an arena boss battle to Prove Ourselves To The Tanakth”, but the idea of Aloy being tested never even comes up. Hekaro reads her resume and is like “Yeah, I think you can handle this”. Sylens is like “Yeah, I better make major plans around this one 21 year old, because if I don’t account for her she CAN and WILL wreck my shit”, and that is the most correct Sylens has ever been about anything in his life. And, yes, she’s The Protagonist of the piece...but she’s also got Three Backstories.

#horizon forbidden west #hfw spoilers #horizon zero dawn

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terrence-silver · 3 years ago

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Okay, okay, some headcanons concerning Season 5.

- Terry’s new, re-vamped dojo functions very much like a cult or a gang, where the new applicants sign fully fledged contracts when joining (virtual vows of silence packaged neatly in a clever, deceitful bureaucratic language by Terry’s lawyers and PR people so it is not outright noticeable to the untrained eye) to ensure that whatever happens in Cobra Kai literally stays in Cobra Kai. Or you’ll be hit by a lawsuit you cannot win.

- Furthermore, once inside the actual dojo, students have elaborate secret rituals Terry makes them go through (or, optionally, the senior students make the junior students go through, enforcing a sort of hierarchy) to ensure their eligibility and to vet them as 100% viable material for the school...or, if we’re realistic, torture them under the excuse of ‘hardening them’. One of such rituals can be mastering the arduous pain that is the Quicksilver method.

- Cobra Kai members are entirely encouraged to snitch and spy on each other if they notice behaviour stepping outside of Cobra Kai norms even when such behaviours happens outside of school, during day-to-day civilian life. Terry knows all, because they all report back to him. He knows who does what, when, how, why and with how. Nothing passes his notice. He’s virtually Big Brother.

- Joining is easy. Getting out is impossible. One can cease paying their monthly fees for participating, but it doesn’t matter, because actually leaving Cobra Kai, is again, a bureaucratic nightmare. Which is, again, very much a deliberate effort to ensure nothing that happens inside of this exclusive club gets leaked out to the public by a whistleblower who will literally be mobbed back into Cobra Kai. Or threatened. Or hurt. Badly.

- Speaking of easy joining --- such is not the case for everyone. Terry and Terry’s front desk people reject whoever they want to reject and while some people are drawn in smoothly, others are continuously pushed away from ever applying, which is honestly probably for the best anyway. Dodged a bullet without even realizing. Whoever is rejected will just think Cobra Kai is super exclusive --- which it is.

- Terry develops a major cult of personality (or rather, he lets it be on full display, if we’re more accurate, because I believe he’s always had one) with his face and likeness on dojo walls, in commercials, front and centre, on billboards all across The Valley, interviews during his grand opening. You name it! He’s so prevalent in this aggressive marketing tactic that people know what Cobra Kai is just through cultural osmosis.

- Cobra Kai rings? Cobra Kai pendants? Cobra Kai ink? If a Grand Lodge and all its ritual trappings also had martial arts in the mix, you’d pretty much get Cobra Kai, as it functions under Terry Silver’s specific tenure, seeing as how I literally envision him awarding his students with these recognizable markers once they reach a certain level of proficiency and mastery in their training, or if they leak enough intel back to him like good foot-soldiers. Secret society vibes? Secret society vibes.

- But, it probably has a club! A diner adjoined to the actual training area! Cobra Kai smoothies at the bar to draw the kiddies in! A re-creational pool! Terry invests a smaller fortune into making this place inviting and fun. Fun in that harmful way too much sugar is fun. Insidious thing is that it works. It works so amazingly. Cobra Kai is just this really fun place downtown...except it ain’t. Students in the senior studios are drinking cobra blood for initiation while milkshakes are distributed for free during the opening.

- The said senior members (and even the children, yes) very much function like Terry’s own bodyguards. Not that he cannot pay for a highly professional security detail. Oh, he can! He very much does. He just finds particular satisfaction (and gleeful amusement) in having an army of people loyal to him on the basis on ideology and belief alone. Oh, how that takes him back to his own military days. The devotion of that is delectable.

#terry silver #terry silver season 5 #cobra kai season 5 #cobra kai #headcanons #terry silver headcanons #old man terry

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obae-me · 5 years ago

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Maid!Brothers

Here you go folks, some maid brothers as a treat. I know these are also probably just what they did for the butler event but...maids. SFW for these ones, although with enough convincing, I might be pressed to make NSFW ones. Enjoy!

Congratulations! For better or for worse, and for the next few days, the demons that reside in the House of Lamentation are now your maids. Is this due to a curse? Another one of Diavolo’s somewhat sadistic schemes? A dare gone too far? Perhaps you’ve used your pact powers for good evil? Who knows at this point? And to be fair, who cares how it started when you have seven demons greet you at the door every morning?

Lucifer

He was very much not pleased at first. At all. But not for the reasons you’d expect. All of his time spent serving you completely is going to disrupt his enormous piles of work. However, Diavolo has given him a few days leave to...explore this new...career. Now that he’s in this situation with no way out for the foreseeable future, he has no choice but to be the best maid the likes of which you or the Devildom has never seen before. He must go the full mile for the sake of his pride. No one will be making fun of him once he perfectly fulfills his role, and just because he’s wearing a dress and an apron doesn’t mean he’s not still completely bone-chillingly intimidating. In fact, now that he has more free time and his eyes on you nearly everywhere you go, this new form of his is almost scarier.

He wears a traditional outfit; Victorian. One with the long unruffled skirt and sleeves. You hardly see him in white, so the stark pureness of his apron and headband are almost off-putting, but it grows on you quickly. The buttons on his collar and cuffs are a bright royal blue. He’s insistent on still wearing his gloves, which somehow only add more flair to his uniform. You never assumed he’d be caught wearing something like this, and yet he’s so confident in it, you could mistakenly assume he’s done this before.

His main chore is making sure the other maids (his brothers) are fulfilling their duties. He’s written up a beautiful schedule complete with shift changes and chore swaps so no one can complain too much. If he hadn’t done this, nothing would get finished, and all of his brothers would end up flocking to you instead. Of course, with him being in charge of this, no one can prevent him from making sure he gets to stick by your side more than the others by a considerable margin.

Everything he does is absolutely flawless. Your room has never been cleaner or more organized, although now you have a difficult time finding any of your things. Your pens are gathered up by...ink density? And your clothes by material? Now you’re resorted to ask for his assistance. He knows exactly what you like, and how you prefer it prepared. And once, you’d even begin to sneeze and he’d already prepared a handkerchief for you.

Of course...this new caretaking biz of his has unlocked a new side of him, or at least a side he’s never had the time or energy to show. He’s unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly, mind-numbingly...fussy. Constantly straightening your clothes, fixing your hair, asking you every five minutes if there’s anything he can do. You’re unsure if he feels you’re incapable of doing anything right by yourself, or if he just has such an overwhelming urge to take care of you that he can’t even let you put your own shoes on.

“Master, I can’t help but notice you’ve not completed your assignments for today. I’ve already prepared your desk, let me escort you to your room.”

“Master, I know Super Crunchy Devil-Sweet Cookies are your favorite, but they are not good for you. Here, I’ve already prepared a perfectly healthy snack. I know you’ll love it.”

“Master, it is five minutes till your bed-time. I am fully aware you are an adult...yes...nonetheless, I have your bed prepared and will not leave till you are safely in a slumber. I will tuck you in, you must get good sleep after all.”

“Master, let me make sure your bathwater is a safe temperature.”

“Master, let me cut your food for you.”

As the days dredge on, he gets more desperate. It’s been a while since you’ve done something on your own. Lucifer is almost always there. You enjoy it to a degree, but it’s a tad...how do we say...suffocating, knowing your every action is under his watchful gaze. At this moment in time, you’re still unaware if this is how he naturally is, or, without endless work to hold him back, if he’s spiraling out of control. Either way, as much as you appreciate him taking complete care of you, you’ll be happy when the old Lucifer is back.

However, as much as he pushes you, you enjoy the moments with him. You find more fondness for him with every soft brush of his gloves, with all the things he keeps hidden in his pockets only to brandish them whenever you need them.

At one point, you’d both been so drained from the day’s activities, you both went for a stroll in the garden to clear your heads. Yawning, you took a seat on the soft grass, your back leaned up against the trunk of a tree. As you listened to the wind rustle the leaves, Lucifer looked down at you with a small frown. Then, sighing, he joined you, tucking the fabric of his skirt against his legs as he sat. How long had it been since he had simply sat outside for some air? Too long. You both embraced the silence for a moment. No more chattering maids, no more assignments, just the sound of gentle breaths against the breeze. You tilted your head back, watching from the corner of your eye as Lucifer brushed a stray leaf off his apron.

“I’ve exhausted you,” he proclaimed in a soft voice.

You couldn’t quite tell him he hadn’t…”I’m just tired in general.”

He huffs, knowing he was right but not pushing you any further. “Here…” You feel his gloved hand cup the back of your head. The heart in your chest squeezes, but you allow him to guide your body in a lying position, head in his lap. You can’t find the breath to say anything, so you simply adjust into a comfortable position, bringing one of your hands close to your face to gently grasp the apron fabric.

You don’t remember falling asleep, so you don’t recall Lucifer’s arm wrapping around your waist, his sigh of relief when you get some rest, and his eventual slumber when he too lets the peace of your company lull him to sleep.

Maybe him being a maid wasn’t so terrible after all.

Mammon

He was also not happy. So unhappy in fact, he’d refused to have anything to do with this. How is he supposed to make money off this whole deal? Where’s the fun? The thrill? No, no, no, he was absolutely not going to participate. He expected some sort of begging or coercion, but actually each of his brothers were alright in knowing each of them would have more time with you with Mammon out of the way. Well, out of everything, he was not having that. Right after his outburst, he was all too happy to be onboard. He proclaimed he was going to be the best, the cutest, the most amazing maid ever. Naturally. So, all of his brothers might as well go home and leave it to him. The Great Mammon would take it from here. One, they were already home. Two, no, none of them were leaving. As a maid, he’ll most likely end up messing up a lot of things, but you’ve never seen him try harder in his life for something that wasn’t attached with a price tag. And that honestly made it worth it.

He wears a uniform with short sleeves and a mid-rise skirt that stops right at his knees. It sort of reminds you of a diner outfit more than a maid uniform, with two separate pockets sewn into the apron. The apron itself doesn’t go over the chest and around the neck, instead, it simply ties around the waist. The bow wrapped in his hair and his knee-high socks are a pleasing gold color, one that matches the sunglasses he still wears despite it not fitting the rest of his look.

His main chore is errand boy. He’s running from here and there to get you and his brothers what they need to carry out their chores. He’s always busy buying groceries, delivering things to your room, dropping off supplies for the other maids to use. Not only is he the fastest so this is more efficient, but it does a pretty good job of wearing him out at the end of the day.

He always has had the capacity to be cute, but somehow with this new occupation of his, he’s become increasingly adorable. And it’s during this time where you realize how much he cares and pays attention to you. He may be considered a terrible maid, but you appreciate his efforts and the gifts he bought for you, even if he had spent the money for food on it. And where Lucifer strives to keep you safe, Mammon strives to keep you entertained, even if it means going against his older brother’s carefully laid plans.

“Master! While I was out grocery shopping I saw your favorite snacks and snagged them for ya! If you eat them now, I’ll take the trash away so Lucifer never knows, eh?”

“Here is your dinner, Master. I’m sorry it’s so late, Satan was making it all wrong! Tch, What kind of maid forgets that you prefer it prepared soft and without any Super Spicy Devil’s Sauce? I had him remake the whole thing for ya.”

“Welcome home, Master! I’ve finished all my errands for today! So...can I...spend the rest of the day serving you personally?”

“Hey! Master! Lucifer is busy helping Asmo with the laundry, how about we sneak away? You deserve to have a little bit of fun, eh?”

“Master? Oi, Master?...I can’t sleep...can I get something for you? Anything?...No, I didn’t say nothin’, go back to bed.”

Despite the fact that he’s been working non-stop for a change, he’s not that different from the normal Mammon except...maybe not as tsundere. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the beam of joy in his face when he got to welcome you home. He’d make sure if you had another tasteless healthy dinner that there would be a steaming cup of ramen on your nightstand. He’d always keep a little gift in the confines of his apron pockets to give to you anytime he saw you. He’d no longer try to hide his affection, only now he’d excuse it away under the maid excuse. You’d miss it.

You’d especially miss the thrill of having him squirrel you away, the shared giggles between the two of you as Lucifer and his other brothers would run all throughout the house, all in a tizzy, looking for where you’d run off to. Mammon and you both were aware they’d find you in time, so you’d never take the moments for granted.

With one of those moments, he helped you up to the roof through the window. Absolutely dangerous? Probably, but he never once let you go. As he grasped your hand, helping you get steady footing amongst the shingles, the voice of frantic maids calling your title could be heard below. You lifted your head to look in Mammon’s eyes before the two of you started laughing.

“How long ya wanna bet?” The glint in his eyes shone brightly against the Devildom moon, the cheeky tug of his lips manifesting into a smirk.

“This time around?” A breathy scoff escaped your lungs, interrupted by the booming voice of Lucifer calling out Mammon’s name. You didn’t have long. “Ten minutes, tops.”

“Ten?” His eyebrows raised, and he gave a little tisk. “I say seven. If I win, I get to keep this little trinket in my pocket.” He pat his hand over the proclaimed pocket, your curiosity sparking. “If you win, I give it to you.” You both heard a door slam open, and so Mammon quickly grasped the sides of your shoulders to pull you both away from the edge. But it had been too late. Lucifer was on the roof before you two before you could even blink, dragging you both inside the house from the back of your collars.

You had figured Mammon won, since technically it was closest to his guess, however, later that night you found a strange little gift beside your bed. He’d won yet still given you his prize...

Levi

Secretly excited. A little embarrassed, but pleased about the fact that he basically gets to cosplay? Without anyone making fun of him? It’s a little dream of his, and he holds maids in high regard so he gets a short confidence boost. In fact, for the first time in a while, his brothers look to him for advice. He knows all about maids after all, so he knows how to act, what to do, and what to say. No longer is anyone teasing him for being knowledgeable about this topic. As a maid, his Moe points went up by 35, his Dandere points went up by 10, but your overall love for him goes up drastically.

You know he has to wear the most kawaii maid uniform you’ve ever seen. It goes mid-thigh, the skirt poofy from multiple ruffled layers. There’s an orange bow across the chest, some lining the skirt, and one large one in the back. It’s very Lolita, little lacy details scattered everywhere, even his headband. The only thing keeping his legs from being bare are the thigh-high stockings pulled over his feet. He was very embarrassed at first. He stayed in his room for who knows how long until he was sure everyone else was dressed up too. They tried teasing him, but the stars in your eyes and the exclamation of how cute he looked forced everyone else’s mouth shut. Now his siblings are the envious ones.

Levi doesn’t really have one main chore, but his focus naturally centered around anything water related. Watering the several plants in the house, washing dishes, scrubbing tubs, mopping the floors etc. He takes on more than anyone expected him to, but he doesn’t mind having a longer list. Not only is it simply a maid’s duty which he’s proud to uphold, but he sees them as objectives. Plus he doesn’t mind keeping busy, he’d go crazy without something to do.

Surprisingly enough, Levi is almost neck and neck with Lucifer as best Maid. He gets things done quickly and efficiently. Levi’s determination has helped the House of Lamentation stay squeaky clean, and his shy stuttery nature somehow enhances this role of his. If it’s his unhinged personality or simply an act, you’ll never know. He can hardly look you in the eye, keeping his head bowed, and whether it goes against Lucifer’s wishes or not, he’s all too ready to help get you whatever you desire, as a good maid should.

“W-welcome home, Master. No, please don’t step there! The...the floor is still wet, please forgive me. H-here, let me help guide you to the stairs.”

“Let--let me pull your chair out for you, Master. There we go...is that good? Did--did I do okay?”

“I can’t believe Lucifer denied you what you wished for?! That’s not what a maid is supposed to do! They’re supposed to do everything! They should do what their master asks with a grin and a bow! I can be ten times the maid he is!...So...tell me what it is you want, Master, and I--I will do everything I can to fulfill it for you…”

“I-I know I’m not as good as the other maids, but please, Master, let me do something for you!”

Nothing makes him happier than seeing the smile on your face when he does something right. Only, he makes you a little worried. He’s been pushing himself really hard for this. Suddenly changing his lifestyle all at once must be difficult for him. How has he not gone crazy without playing any of his games?

So you indulge him when you have the chance, ordering him to play a game with you or recommend a new show. Then the excited Levi comes back into view, some of the stress melting away as he describes the shows he knows you will love the best. You do like Maid Levi, but you miss his little rants about broken plot, his cries over character death. The otaku that you’d come to know he had hidden himself away these last few days. You’d be happy for him when it was all over.

Until then, you’d let him take care of you. Even if you didn’t need or want anything, you’d go send him off to do something, watching him swell with happiness. Whenever he’d return, you’d make him bow, taking the time to rub his head and assure him he was doing a swell job.

“Why don’t you get some rest, Levi? You’ve done a lot for me today.”

“I can’t!--I mean, I’m alright, Master. It’s my duty to always be attentive!” He attempted a little curtsey, but you could notice his legs slightly tremble.

“Levi…” Once again, you brushed your hand over the top of his head, a finger curling around one of his strands. “You’ve done the most out of everyone here, and even Lucifer is exhausted. I order you to get some rest.”

“But--”

“You would deny a direct order from your Master?” You raised an eyebrow, but kept the soft smile against your lips. He stiffened, but then slowly shook his head. “Good. While you’re at it, I order you to eat a good meal, take a shower, and get at least 8 hours of sleep, understood?”

All he could do was stammer, shifting the weight of his body from one foot to the other. How long had it been since he’d taken decent care of himself? Much too long, probably. You’d felt strange at first dishing out orders left and right, but you didn’t hesitate with these, holding your ground until Levi lowered his head and obeyed.

At least you still had a few more days left with this power. Maybe you’d make him say something nice about himself tomorrow.

Satan

His annoyance was outweighed by the intriguing curiosity. He’d read about maids in some of his history books, but never had the opportunity to see one much less become one. So, he decided to give it a shot as a learning experience. After all, it was only for a few days, and unlike some of his brothers, he could handle nearly anything for a few days. Besides, he saw this as another opportunity to annoy Lucifer at any turn as well as one-up him by being the better servant.

He wears a cat maid outfit, he really didn’t see another option. The fake cat ears atop his head match his hair color perfectly, as well as the fake tail tied around his waist, sticking out of the skirt. There’s a small kitty shaped hole in the middle of his chest and a green paw print pattern in the corner of his apron. A shiny golden bell attached to a green ribbon adorns his neck. He wasn’t embarrassed putting it on, but once he saw the look on your face when you first caught the sight of him, for once he nearly hid away. He could hardly breathe once you started playing with the bell strapped to his throat.

His main chore is cooking. He knows his way around the kitchen well enough and always knows the proper cookbook if he needs to look up something new. Plus, he always tries to go the extra mile, adding little designs to the food he makes for you. Of course, they’re all cat themed. Not only does he find this a great creative outlet, but he relishes the look of excitement on your face when he lifts the lid to the tray. He loves it even more when you upset Lucifer by setting aside your work for him.

His rather bold and assertive nature slowly melted away with time as a maid. Shy Satan is a rare character indeed, and it has you wondering if this is some sort of act he’s putting on for your amusement. He has been secretly taking lessons from Levi after all. Wherever this new side of him came from, you did your best to enjoy it while you could.

“Here is your lunch, Master...I...do you really want me to say it?...Ahem, I--I’m sure you’ll find it cooked to purr-fection…”

“You called for me, Master? Really? You--I--fine...Nya~...can...I go back to work now?”

“I’m not one to question you, Master, but...Is petting my head while I read to you truly necessary?...Alright then...Just don’t tell anyone else about it, please.”

“Master, do you know anything about the strange red light that’s been distracting me from my duties? You know nothing, huh? Hmm…”

“Meow-ster, Paw-lease, I beg of you, no more cat puns.”

Out of everyone so far, you’ll be the most upset when Satan goes back to his normal lifestyle. He would always be off, doing whatever he wanted, requesting your presence at the strangest and almost most inconvenient of times. As a maid, you always knew where he was, and now he would receive affection on your terms, not his. Although, you can tell it’s driving him a little stir crazy, his head snapping to around with the slightest of noises.

So, you thought leaving him to his own devices for a day and not teasing him would be good for him. So, that day, when he brought you breakfast, you thanked him and nodded, beaming at the whiskers on your pancakes, but then sent him away. He curiously tilted his head, but left you in peace. Lunch came, and you did the same, but this time he frowned. You even went as far as to tell him not to worry about dinner, thinking he needed more of a break, but that’s when he spoke his feelings.

“Have I upset you in some way today, Master?” He turned his head slightly away from you, but kept your gaze.

“Of course not, I just thought you deserved a break from my joking today. I’m sure it’s not fun, being stuck inside most of the day, having me as your master.” You gave him a grin of assurance, but he only seemed more upset.

“Do you think I would put as much effort into my service as I do if I didn’t think you were a worthy Master?” He took a small step towards you. “I’m here because I want to be here, so don’t push me away.” He brushed his forehead against your shoulder, blushing but smiling brightly as you rubbed the top of his head.

He could stay like this for a while longer, you didn’t mind.

Asmo

Possibly the most excited of the bunch. Typically, he’s never a fan to take care of someone other than himself, but he did count you as an exception. He would look absolutely adorable for the next few days? And so would his brothers?! It had taken centuries of pointless begging to try to get them to dress up, but they never did, but somehow you always managed what he could not. He was a little clueless at first on how to take care of someone else, but then he figured he would treat you like he did himself, which resulted in the most caring and loving Asmo you’d seen so far.

Did he already have an outfit in mind? Most definitely. Honestly, he attempted to wear nothing but an apron, but that plan was quickly quashed by his siblings. However, he still found a way to rock the maid outfit in his own way. It was a French style uniform, the top squeezing him like a corset. The skirt was so short, it just reached the top of his thighs. Instead of socks, he opted for fishnet tights and a pair of high heel shoes. How he would get anything done in that, you would never know, but he managed despite all odds.

His main chore consisted of mostly laundry. Washing all the sheets, clothes, and curtains in the house, which would take up a surprising amount of his time. He’d make your bed and fold your clothes, preparing an amazing outfit for you to wear the next day. Other than that, he always made sure you and everything else around him looked amazing.

Not much changed at first, he seemed like normal Asmo, complimenting his looks, standing in strange poses as he went about his daily chores. Then, slowly, he talked about you more, paying more and more attention to you till the unthinkable happened, he neglected himself to make sure you were taken care of.

“Oh, Master! Look at what I’m doing! Wouldn’t you say I’m absolutely ravishing as a maid?”

“Master! I picked out an adorable outfit for you to wear tomorrow, it’ll almost be like we’re matching!”

“Master, please, I know Lucifer said this needs to be done, but look at your eyes. Come with me, we must treat you at once.”

“I’m not sure, Master, I think in this case, Lucifer is right. A healthy Master is a beautiful Master! Although, I think you’re breathtaking already. I couldn’t serve just anyone you know!”

“Shut up, Mammon, I don’t care what my hair looks like right now! Where did the Master run off to?! It’s been hours since they drank any water! Their lack of self care is going to be the death of me…”

Asmo ends up being another one for team health. He does your skin care in the morning and at night before you go to bed. Somehow, he always knows when you run out of water, right by your side to refill your cup/bottle before going back to his chores. Asmo makes a great maid, and you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t be sad to see him go back to normal.

Somehow, he had the magical potential to make coming out of your comfort zone as comfortable as could be. Would he still do the same when this was over? Well, you guessed you had to enjoy it in the moment while it lasted, while he could put you on a pedestal without shoving other people beneath it.

“Which one for tomorrow, Master?” He held up two articles of clothing, both of which were way different than you would normally think to wear.

You frowned, rubbing the fabric of one of the options between your fingers. “For me? I don’t think either of those...work with me. Is there something else?”

“Not work with you? Oh but, Master, anything can work for you. For example, This one,” He took the top and held it against your chest as he gestured to the mirror, “makes your eyes look amazing. And this one makes anyone look amazing, trust me.”

You took a deep breath in, after all, you’d only really be wearing it at home. “Okay, um...this one. Let’s be bold.” He squealed, setting the right outfit aside for the next day, mumbling something to himself about the most beautiful master in the Devildom...whatever that meant.

He always found a way to make you shine, and being a maid didn’t change that.

Beel

He was rather indifferent to the predicament. Everyone was fine? No injuries or foreboding death? He could still eat? No problem there then. It would disrupt his workout schedule more than he preferred, but he found creative ways to use his chores like an at-home gym session. Plus, any excuse to get to hang around you more or do something for you is something he can get behind. Unlike his other brothers, he’s not seeing this as a competition. He’s going to do what he can to the best and fullest of his abilities, just like he always does. For this reason, he’s always been a sort of foundation to depend on, and you’re glad his new position won’t change anything with him.

His uniform...was an issue at first. Either his sleeves and shoulders would rip or the buttons would pop off the chest, so it took a while until something could be form fitting but remain intact. It had gotten to the point where they opted out of sleeves altogether, they were just such a hassle. But other than that, Beel is surprisingly comfortable in a skirt. There’s no issues with the fabric needing to stretch and bend around his thighs. He could do squats for days without any tears! He does find it hard not to eat the red bows and ribbons on his outfit...they just look like pasta in the right lighting.

Like Levi, he has a lot of scattered cleaning to keep him busy. He mows the lawn, wipes down every window, and handles the vacuuming. It's a sight to behold watching him work. At one point, he got so focused, he picked up an entire couch with just one arm as he cleaned underneath. Do you slyly hide things under couches now to have him get it? That’s a secret only you know the answer to.

He’s very good with his tasks, but he struggles with, as Levi calls it, “Moe”. He does his best, and while he might not get the highest points in this category, just him trying is absolutely enough. He desperately wants to succeed, even if being cute is entirely new to him.

“Here, Master, I found this flower while I was working in the garden...do you want it?”

“Master, I...Satan has banned me from the kitchen...do you have any snacks left? I promise I’ll make up for it.”

“Master, please! Do not come in here while I am cleaning! What if something hurts you? Here, let me escort you to safety.”

“No….I won’t accept your dinner...you--you have to eat, Master. I know it’s not your favorite, but it’s good for you.”

“Hey! Where are you trying to go while no one’s looking? It’s not safe going alone, so I will come with you. Wherever you go, Master, I will be there with you…”

He and Lucifer make a great overprotective gang. Beel hardly ever goes against his older brother’s wishes, and in this case, he agrees that your health and safety come above all else. And only now is he worried about every little corner of the house. Boxes? Dangerous. Hot food? Dangerous. How could he live with himself if you burnt your mouth? But not to worry, he is there to make sure you are completely safe.

On one hand, you thoroughly appreciate his consideration, but on the other, you almost miss independence. Although, everything Beel does is with a little smile and those puppy-dog eyes you never have the strength to shoo away.

And actually, his concern did come in handy on a few occasions. There was the time where the cleaning chemicals ended up being dangerous for humans, the time a stack of boxes nearly fell on top of you, but the one you remember most, the time the lawn mower snagged on a pebble and shot it out. With incredible speed, he had tackled you to the ground. You were about to question him until the sound of breaking glass could be heard behind you.

“That was far too close,” Beel sighed, still covering you with his body.

His weight of pure muscle started to weigh heavy on your lungs. “B-Beel…” He quickly got up, helping you to your feet. He straightened the new wrinkles in your clothes, frowning as he cupped your face, squishing your cheeks as he checked you over for wounds. “Beel..I’m okay.”

He let you go as you grabbed his wrists, his brows furrowed deep in worry. “See, Master, I told you it’s dangerous. We should go right to your room.”

“You also said the same thing about my soup, Beel…but...thank you...you always know right when to get me out of trouble.”

With that, he widely beamed. “Of course, Master. That’s my main goal. I will do anything to make sure you are safe...”

Of course, none of that changes whether Beel is a maid or not. Protection is what he does best, that and eating. Although, as a maid, you never have to worry about him stealing your food...so you at least for a bit longer, your snacks are safe.

Belphie

He wasn’t the biggest of fans about the notion of being a maid. It just...sounded like so much work. Endless amounts of chores and menial labor? No thank you. Other than picking up after himself and the occasional chore rotation, cleaning for him was saved for mostly punishments passed out by Lucifer. So, being a maid sounded like torture. However, three things finally convinced him to come around to the idea. One, he always enjoyed ruffling Lucifer’s feathers whenever he could, and this had a lot of potential. Two, Beel was going along with it, and usually he followed his twin wherever he went. And three, you told him it was fine that he didn’t want to do it, which suddenly persuaded him to go along. He never said that he didn’t want to, but now that you mentioned it, he was going to do the opposite.

His uniform is extra poofy and soft. The sleeves are round, the skirt almost sticks out more than Levi’s, and his legs are covered in fleece-lined leggings. His apron and headband are covered in a cow print pattern, and a purple choker necklace decorates his neck. You attempted to coax his tail free to tie a small cowbell around the end of it, but he didn’t entertain the idea. Too noisy.

He’s mostly assigned to dust and straighten cushions and pillows. However, the idea was a bit flawed seeing as how he’d usually end up falling asleep on aforementioned pillows, only to have to have them be messed up right after he fixed them. Although, to be perfectly honest, he’d end up falling asleep no matter what chore he’d been assigned. Just seeing him work though is a feat in itself.

Belphie as a maid hardly changes a thing personality wise, he still tries to pry you away from your responsibilities, tempting you to join him in his slothful ways. So, alongside Mammon and Levi, he focuses on making you happy first and foremost, only, he hopes your wishes coincide along his own.

“Hey, Master, you look tired, how about you come take a nap? I did just fluff up your pillows for you, don’t they look cozy?”

“What does it matter what Lucifer suggested? You’re the Master, do whatever you want. He won’t be able to stop you.”

“I...zzz...no don’t eat that...Beel...Huh!? No I wasn’t sleeping, Master, I was just testing this cushion’s comfort levels. It passes.”

“Okay, I usually say it as a joke, but you’ve been up way too late, Master. Here, it’s a nice cup of hot chocolate I made for you, it should make you sleepy. Once you’re done, we’re going straight to sleep. Yes, I said we.”

He might not have changed all too much, but he does seem a bit happier, not as nonchalant about everything, plus he does get an absolute kick out of seeing Lucifer work alongside his siblings like everyone else. Although, the nighttime is when he thrives. While everyone else is asleep, he makes nightly rounds, ensuring everyone gets good rest, even Lucifer as much as Belphie acts like he can’t stand him.

During the night, if you can’t sleep or end up waking during odd hours, he enjoys being the only maid around. He can have you to himself, and it’s hard to deny a Master who looks as cute as you do when you’re sleepy.

“Another restless night?” He snuck into your room without a sound. He always seemed to know when you were awake.

“Yeah...just my brain won’t shut up I guess.” You groaned, your body trying to remind you that you were exhausted, your muscles aching as you moved.

“That won’t do at all. As much as I would enjoy you being up with me, my Master needs good rest.” He shook his head, and held out a single finger as he told you to wait before speeding away. When he returned, he threw a few more pillows onto your bed and unfurled a different blanket. Albeit a little forcefully, he shoved you back down onto the bed, pulling the new blanket over your shoulders. It surrounded you with fuzzy warmth, your eyes already heavy. The pillows smelled like sugar and lavender. “A little bit of help from Asmo and a nice dryer.” He settled down on his knees near your bedside, telling you stories about the stars until you fell into a restful sleep.

He might not be the best at his tasks, but he always served you in his own little ways.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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brunoswifey · 5 years ago

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They got no idea about me and you (Bruno Bangnyfe x reader)

note: This one was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “Dress”. Happy 3rd birthday, reputation!

The annual Wing Bind Ball was here and Bruno still hated it with every inch of his body. Even if it wasn’t the boring, old-fashioned ball it used to be, people were still trying way too hard to be on their best behavior. Weren’t they there to have fun? Be this serious on the job, not at a party.

But this year’s event was different for two reasons. Next year’s ball would be organized by the Inks therefore he had to officially pick up the baton and promise to throw the best party even blah blah blah… And the more important reason was you. As the deputy director of the Billionaires you were in charge of the event which meant you couldn’t just sneak off to spend time together. You both had responsibilities and general priorities that night.

Also, no one knew you were together. This certainly made things a lot more complicated. And interesting. And maybe a little more exciting. Would you be able to interact without people finding out the truth? Could you even find an opportunity to do so?

The thing is, it wasn’t easy to find you alone since everybody wanted to talk to you about the event. When he had followed the protocol and congratulated Harry for the success of the party, he casually pointed out that you did most of the work and so people should bother you instead of him. No wonder every guest wanted a piece of you. Letting out a sigh, Bruno pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to type a message in the encrypted app you used for written communication.

Bruno: I’d like to congratulate in person. It’s strictly professional, of course. Harry told me you’re the brain and heart behind this.

Y/N: Then why don’t you come over here now?

With a wolfish smile he looked up from the screen and searched the room to find you. When your eyes locked, he could immediately tell you felt the same way he did. Keeping this safe distance and acting like there was nothing between you two was the worst thing he had to endure lately. He wanted to pull you close and kiss you and be affectionate but he couldn’t do it. You weren’t alone which would surely make this encounter even worse. Did he want that? Did you want that?

Bruno: I don’t like to share.

Bruno: Also, I don’t think we should be alone in a room full of people because I’m not sure I could behave.

At first you only smiled at him, but then you rolled your eyes.

Y/N: I can’t recall the last time you could behave.

Bruno: Ouch.

Y/N: But it’s true and you know it.

Bruno: Yeah, but still, you shouldn’t say it.

Y/N: You said it would be strictly professional. Come on, I don’t bite.

Bruno: Not in public 😏

Y/N: Hey!

He screwed up with that last one. Not because you got mad but because now his mind couldn’t stop playing reruns of the times you had playfully bit him in the bedroom. The two of you made a great team and he wished you could make your relationship official. But telling HR about it would come with a lot of paperwork and neither of you wanted to deal with bureaucracy. Normally, he preferred to follow the rules, but this time he simply didn’t feel like filling out a bunch of stupid forms.

Before he knew it, Bruno was surrounded by fellow members of the Inks and he had no choice but to focus on that conversation instead of you. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket over and over again, probably because you were bombing him with messages that he couldn’t check right away. He had to try and stay patient, even if it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. His body wanted to act on its own, reaching for the device the moment he didn’t focus on self-control, so it took a lot of effort not do it.

It was only a painfully slowly passing hour later when he could finally get away from people long enough to check his messages. There were quite a lot of them along with a few missed calls from you. But calls? Why would you call him? You had previously agreed not to do that to avoid suspicion.

Y/N: I have a surprise.

Y/N: Don’t you want to know what it is?

Y/N: Bruno, don’t ignore me, please!

Y/N:

Y/N: Please, answer your phone, it’s important!

Y/N: You know I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t.

Y/N: Fine: Harry can’t stay until the end of the party so I’ll be the one on stage with you!

Y/N: Because of this change ‘sadly’ we have to discuss the choreography of the whole thing.

Y/N: And when I say discuss it…

Bruno didn’t believe it at first, and he couldn’t decide if Harry really had to leave this early or if you just somehow managed to convinced him. Either way, he liked it. No, he loved it. He really loved the idea of finally spending some time alone with you.

Bruno: How about the meeting room on the top floor? They said we can use it.

Bruno: Hello, Y/N! So do you wanna meet?

Bruno: I can bully you as well, you know.

Bruno:

Y/N: Sorry, Harry wants to talk to me about something before he leaves.

Y/N: We’ll meet on stage soon!

Y/N: PS: I love you 🧡😙

Bruno:

He watched the screen for a while but apparently you hadn’t even seen the message yet. So much for his plan to kiss you before leaving. Or to do so much more in that meeting room where an employee would have temporarily turned off the security cameras. Harry isn’t the type to respect the meetings of the Top of Horns and now Bruno knew that apparently, he was also the master of cockblocking.

But at least this gave him a little time to think. He hated this. He truly hated that the two of you had to hide all the time. Maybe he should bother with that stupid paperwork after all. And then he suddenly realized that being on that stage together in front of all those Wing Bind employees actually gave him the chance to prove you he was serious about this relationship.

Later, just before he was about to join you on stage, Bruno took a deep breath. This was for the best. He had to do it. So he walked up the small stairs, briefly waving at the crowd then stopping next to you in front of a microphone. You were talking but he couldn’t focus on the words. He was losing his patience. He couldn’t stand the idea of standing so close to you any longer without doing anything.

“Oh, fuck it,” he said quietly before putting a hand on the back of your neck and pulling you close for a kiss. Not a simple little peck on the lips. No. It was the kind of passionate kiss he desperately needed after pining after you all evening. When he pulled away with a wide grin on his lips, he noticed how confused you looked. You clearly enjoyed it and didn’t even try to stop him but it was surely unexpected. Clearing his throat, Bruno turned back to the crowd. “Okay, okay, you can stop murmuring. Yes, we’re together. Yes, I love her. Yes, I’ll do the paperwork on Monday,” he added, looking at the head of HR. “We hope you had fun tonight, see you next year and so on. Bye!”

#bruno bangnyfe #bruno bangnyfe x reader #burn the witch #bruno bangnyfe fanfiction #bruno bangnyfe fanfic #burn the witch fanfic #burn the witch fanfiction

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 4 years ago

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Stars

Dannymay, 12,021 Human Era

Danny floated lazily on his back, a bag full of white and grey rocks orbiting him while he admired the lunar surface. It was going to be hard for anything short of crafting the rocks into something to top Wulf’s teachings letting him portal up to the moon whenever he wanted, barely tethered by its weak gravity and able to traverse it without disturbing the dust unless he picked up a rock. From his vantage point, the stars above and about were uncountable, and if he didn’t know better he’d say there was no end to them. His appearance had changed, even, from the silk-lined, spike studded, leather jacket that Sam and Tuck all but shoved onto him when it became clear that he’d be fighting ghosts regularly to a suit resembling the uniforms of NASA astronauts, black, white, green, and covered in silver stars.

Grinning to himself, Danny took off toward the Oceanus Procellarum, a camera he and Tuck had built recording the longest video he’d ever taken when a chill that dwarfed the cold of space ran down his spine and rose from his lungs and throat to his lips, blue vapor drifting in front of his face. There was a ghost, on the moon, and the idea of a hostile ghost following him up to space was so beyond aggravating that Danny’s hair ignited, his fangs sharp, the knuckles of his gloves sharpening into hardpoints, and his aura flaring up like a beacon of green and blue. Opening a portal to deposit his bag of moon rocks in his closet, Danny launched himself where he felt the other ghost’s presence, the logic that a ghost whose aura he couldn’t see but still feel on the moon’s surface, in one of her craters even, abandoned at the moment. That thought process is, of course, slammed into him the moment Danny sees exactly what it is that he’s sensed.

Their body was a slowly slithering mass of the purest darkness that could not be called something so bright as black, with violets and blues and colors that could not be seen, only experienced, dancing within them like ink within water, blue and red and green stars twinkling between the stretches of void, moving fast enough for Danny to know there even was movement of them, but slow enough to be mesmerized by the sight of it. Their face was a theatrical mask, bone white with red behind the eyes and a curve of a smile to mark the mouth, and from the void behind the mask curled horns of dark and beautiful amethyst and sapphire and onyx, somehow occupying the same space and curving in every which way. It was, frankly, impossible to make out all the details or to measure quite how massive the form of Nocturne was as he relaxed upon the surface of the moon’s ocean of storms. In all his conflicts, no ghost had ever made him feel quite so small simply by laying back, impossibly huge.

“My, my, ” he said, voice coming from the back of Danny’s head rather than the lack of air around him, even if their lips still moved to shape the words. “ Is that Danny Phantom in the flesh, not simply dreaming so big that you’ve learned to astral project without my guidance? Have you decided to make your fantasy reality and join me here?” They lifted part of their body and when Danny focused he saw the silhouette of a hand.

Danny had many questions, but the first one that came out of his gawking mouth as he rose to meet the giant’s face was, ”How did you get so big? Been munching on the muses of artists? Oh stars, are artistic muses actual spirits? Can you eat them?” While Danny usually appreciated a good laugh, that was when he said something as a joke, not asked a very good question. Nocturne’s laughter swept over him like a tidal wave of endearment and amusement.

“Ah, that’s right, you met me through a smaller emanation, didn’t you? I assure you, child, I’ve been this size for ages. Also, I do not consume muses, though whether that is because they do not exist in such a form that I could or because that would be an unsustainable form of sustenance, I shall leave you to consider. While the dreams of artists like you are rather vivid, the occasional idealist and average joe is good for diversity in palette. After all, each mind has such capacity for imaginative dreams.”

“Emanation?”

“A thin slice of myself sent down to help you sleep at my brother’s request. ” Danny scratched his head at that and Nocturne laughed again. “ The little game of hero and villain was delightful fun, though… you didn’t think that the ghost Master of Dreams needed helmets and machinery to harvest the energy of good dreams, did you?” Danny folded his arms with a pout that Nocturne couldn’t possibly have been able to make out when he was so small comparatively, and yet they chuckled anyway, shifting into what Danny was going to call a sitting position.

“So you aren’t going to leave everyone asleep forever?”

They frowned. “Of course not, you can’t dream forever. It isn’t healthy and leads to stagnation and, eugh, nightmares. Those the Fright Knight can have, whensoever he gets himself free from his imprisonment. ” Danny sighed, relaxing all over, and did his best not to flinch when Nocturne scooped him up in a claw talon tendril wing fin hand. “ Come to listen?”

Danny looked around and spread his arms slowly. “In the silent vacuum of space? To what?”

“My dear boy, can you not hear the star song? ” Nocturne tilted his head and their eyes locked for a long, headache inducing minute. “ No one has taught you how to percieve the spaces that layer upon themselves to form the world you know, have they?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but I do have a headcahe now, so that’s great. What, the world is like origami and everything is singing underneath the top layer?”

“An apt comparison, yes, ” Nocturne said. “ Your liminal state of being considered, perhaps it would be simpler to show you, than to make you work your way through new senses. After all, what’s a dream without a bit of fantastical ease?”

Danny flew back a few paces, though he was still in Nocturne’s palm. “Is it safe for you to do that? I don’t wanna go forgetting how to be a living human being just to hear a song.” Nocturne huffed, puffing up like a bird in mild offense.

“Child, the mind is my domain, I know perfectly well what I am doing. You are not the first liminal whose mind I have touched, nor I imagine shall you be the last. But, if you do not care to hear the song that the earth, the moon and the stars sing…”

“I never said I don’t! I just, wanted to be sure.” Danny rubbed the back of his head before floating a bit higher. “Alright, alright what do I do?”

“Relax, little one. Imagine a door, it can be any door you like, between your mind and those minds around you. ” Danny closed his eyes, taking a superfluous breath that came up empty, his body relaxing slowly with each breath. He pictured a door, a hexagonal door to a space station. “ Very good, ” Nocturne said, and Danny felt his chest puff up with something like pride before he felt and heard a knock knock on the door in his mind. “ Now all you have to do is let me in.”

There was a moment where in Danny considered simply not letting Nocturne into his mind. After all, Danny would probably figure this out himself if he tried. It was a tempting idea, probably even the smartest idea when dealing with a being who had attacked him, even if they claimed it was a game. Still, the opportunity to experience space in a way that no one else could was a far bigger temptation, and so Danny turned the knob on the door to his mind and opened it up slowly.

There is the brush of Nocturne against the door and Danny both has himself drawn out and the universe slipped in and when he opens his eyes and his ears he cannot help but to let his mouth fall open as well. He can hear the voices of the endless universe singing under his feet. The hearts of stars singing deep beneath the lunar soil. Lost to the blooming nebulas staining the dark sky with color, miles upon miles of light and rivers of fire and the promise of something new. Danny can almost hear the words and language they speak; something so close, so distant, something he has never known -- but they ring with such magnificent, terrible truth that he thinks, maybe he has always known them. Maybe they have always lived inside him, alongside the bones. These melodies, these words, that burn with such ferocious clarity that if he just spoke them aloud then the far would become near and he could reach out and pluck the stars from the sky and cradle them in his hands or be cradled in their stellar flares.

The heavy elements known to those dull terrestrial creatures he began life as could only enter the universe with the death of a star, a fact that Danny knew very well, but it was one thing to know something on an academic level, and another to see and hear the voices of the ghosts left behind by those ancient stars, their magnificent fire shining from within every atom of the earth and the moon and the planets around him, harmonizing and rising into something yet more in the song of the Earth and her seas and forests and sky. Danny listens to the moon, and he knows that if he were to sing that song he could reach out to any body of water on Earth and pull it to him and him to it, and his call would be answered. That if he simply moved his lips and sang the words of the stars, he could call upon their fire, their gravity, could reach out to them and leave the chains of gravity rooting him to the Earth. It would be so easy to explore the universe, to leave and join the chorus of the stars and see all that one with an eternity at their hands could see.

Yet there was another song, this one smaller, softer, but no less wonderful song that wove around and within him, and listening to it brought to his mind yet more little songs, faint as the step of an ant against the dirt but still beautiful in all their own ways. He couldn’t go, not yet. Not without them. And so, Danny turned back to Nocturne and beamed up at him. “Thank you.”

“Of course, child. We may stop whenever you wish.” Danny nodded and rose up to circle around Nocturne, drinking in the sight of the universe, so that he could attempt - and fail and attempt again and again - to show his friends what he now experienced with paint and brush and pen. He had to return to Earth, but for now, he had the stars.

#Danny Phantom #Dannymay 2021 #Danny Fenton #Nocturne #Stars #Rexy Writes #fanfiction #fanfic

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kookie-doughs · 4 years ago

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 9: Percy Forces Me To Join A Quest

The next morning, Percy moved to cabin three. Luke was the only one I could hang out with from my cabin. He was also the one who took care of my wounds after the thing happened. Nobody mentioned the hellhound, but I got the feeling they were all talking about it behind my back. The attack had scared everybody. It sent two messages: one, that I managed to command a hellhound; and two, I came with the son of Poseidon. They all assume I would be as great as Percy. The other campers steered clear of me as much as possible. Only Luke struck around. Yes, even Percy started ignoring me. I figured it had something to do with water and stuffs. Cabin eleven was too nervous to have sword class with him after what happened in the woods, so he had one-on-one with Luke. I usually sit in to watch them in hopes of Percy talking to me again. But nada. "You're going to need all the training you can get," Luke promised, as they were working with swords and flaming torches. "Now let's try that viper-beheading strike again. Fifty more repetitions." Annabeth still taught Percy and I Greek but on different times I had mine in the mornings. Even Clarisse kept her distance, though her venomous looks made it clear she wanted to kill me. I wished she would just yell or punch me or something. I'd rather get into fights every day than be ignored. I stayed with Luke most of my time. We'd gotten close that talking about gods wasn't such a touchy subject. He also told me stuffs about himself, like how he got his scar and small stuffs. I was still in bed in cabin eleven. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. I hadn't dreamed that. It was so early that most of the campers were still asleep. "Good morning?" I saw Luke standing near the door. "Eh... good enough I guess." I said sitting on my bed. "It's really boring since I don't do anything." "Not sure if I'm bringing you good news or bad," He smiled taking the seat beside me. "But Mr. D wants to see you." "Really? Will I finally get to do something fun?" "I feel like I should be offended." He gasped dramatically. "Why? Am I not fun?" I laughed, "Pretty much yeah." "Ouch. Anyways, I'd better let him tell you what's up." "Walk with me?" I asked with an UwU face. "I would, but commitment and all that." He joked. "Aight then. I'll get ready, wait for me outside." "I said I won't!" "Geez don't need to be in a hurry. I won't take long." I got dressed and went out to see him with an exaggerated frown. "You better walk fast. I'll leave as soon as you get there." For days, I'd been half expecting a summons to the Big House. Now that Percy was declared a son of Poseidon, one of the Big Three gods who weren't supposed to have kids, I figured it was a crime for him just to be alive. They're probably suspicious of me now as well with Percy and I's relation. The other gods had probably been debating the best way to punish me for existing, and now Mr. D was ready to deliver their verdict. "So... with Percy being a big three material. What would that make me?" "Well, putting aside the fact that you suck, you drown at every body of water that's at least a foot deep, you don't smell like a half-blood. I'd say you're... one of the big three's. Maybe Zeus's." "Har har. I'm just really worried you know? With Percy getting claimed as Poseidon's... and I came with him. And water just loves me so much. I'd assume I'm somewhere along the lines of Zeus and... Zeus. Is there someone stronger than Zeus?" "Depends on who you asked." "If I asked Zeus he'd definitely answer Zeus." I heard a loud thunder echoed. "Someone's brave." Luke laughed. Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain was coming in our direction. I asked Luke if we needed an umbrella. "No," he said. "It never rains here unless we want it to." "So my kiss under the rain fantasy is a no?" "If it has to be here... probably." I pointed at the storm. "What the heck is that, then?" "Bad news. But don't worry, it'll pass by us." I realized he was right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley. But this storm... this one was huge. At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin were playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysus's twins were walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everybody was going about their normal business, but they looked tense. They kept their eyes on the storm. When Luke saw the front porch of the Big House. "Whatever they say. Don't choose the option where you'll die." "Half a promise. Depends on the other option." "Well I'll give you an easier promise. Don't die." "Not really easier but okay."

After he ruffled my hair, I walked up to the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sat at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day. Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheelchair. They were playing against invisible opponents--two sets of cards hovering in the air. "Y/N!" Grover greeted. "Well, well," Mr. D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity finally got his request." I turned to see Percy who was looking at me and then moved away. I waited for him to greet... "Come closer, both of you," Mr. D said. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father." A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house. "Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said. Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth. "If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm." "Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron put in. "Nonsense," Dionysus said. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father." "Mr. D—" Chiron warned. "Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do." Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit card? No. A security pass. He snapped his fingers. The air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a hologram, then a wind, then he was gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind. Chiron smiled at me, but he looked tired and strained. "Sit, Percy, please. You too Y/N and Grover." We did. Grover sat between us. Chiron laid his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use. "Tell me, Percy," he said. "What did you make of the hellhound?" "It scared me," I said. "If Y/N hadn't told it to stand down, I'd be dead." I saw Percy turn to my direction, which made me roll my eyes. "You'll meet worse, Percy. Far worse, before you're done." "Done... with what?" "Your quest, of course. Will you accept it?" I glanced at Grover, who was crossing his fingers. "Um, sir," I said, "you haven't told me what it is yet." Chiron grimaced. "Well, that's the hard part, the details." Thunder rumbled across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I could see, the sky and the sea were boiling together. "Poseidon and Zeus," Percy said. "They're fighting over something valuable... something that was stolen, aren't they?". Chiron and Grover exchanged looks. Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?" "The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And... I've also been having these dreams." "I knew it," Grover said. "Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered. "But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!" "Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroked his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Percy, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt." I laughed. "A what?" "Do not take this lightly," Chiron warned. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives." "Oh." "Zeus's master bolt," Chiron said, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers." "And it's missing?" "Stolen," Chiron said. "By who?" "By whom," Chiron corrected. Once a teacher, always a teacher. "By you." "At least"—Chiron held up a hand—"that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best', 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it." "But I didn't—" "Patience and listen, child," Chiron said. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt, and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you as his son. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief." "But I've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!" Chiron and Grover glanced nervously at the sky. The clouds didn't seem to be parting around us, as Luke had promised. They were rolling straight over our valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid. "Er, Percy...?" Grover said. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky." "Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggested. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at Percy. Chiron was waiting for an answer. "Something about a golden net?" He answered. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods... they, like, trapped Zeus and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler, right?" "Correct," Chiron said. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you've come along—the proverbial last straw." "But I'm just a kid!" "Percy," Grover cut in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, that he's fathered a new mortal hero who might be used as a weapon against you.... Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?" "But I didn't do anything. Poseidon—my dad—he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?" Chiron sighed. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a full-fledged war would look like, Percy?" "Bad?" "Imagine the world in chaos. Nature at war with itself. Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight." "Bad," I repeated. "And you, Percy Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath." It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky. I had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of Percy. I was furious. "So he has to find the stupid bolt," I said. "And return it to Zeus." "What better peace offering," Chiron said, "than to have the son of Poseidon return Zeus's property?" "If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?" "I believe I know." Chiron's expression was grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago... well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle." "Why can't you tell me where the bolt is beforehand?" "Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge." "Good reason." "You agree then?" He looked at Grover, who nodded encouragingly. Easy for him. He wasn't the one Zeus wanted to kill. Percy then turned to me, "All right," he said. "But, I'll go when Y/N comes with." "Woah there! I am not going anywhere." I hissed. You ignore me for days and now you want me to die with you now? "Why do I have to go with you?" "Percy---" "I don't want to leave without her." He looked down. I felt guilty about turning him down. Which was stupid since he's the one at fault. I gave a sigh, I hope Luke won't get mad at me. "It's better than you being turned into a dolphin." I mumbled. "I'll go." "Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron said. "Go upstairs, Percy Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more." Before Percy came up he took my arm and pulled me in a hug. "I wanted you there, so we could save our parents together. After this quest, you me your mom and dad and my mom, will stay together." I hugged him back and nodded. "Thank you." Four flights up, the stairs ended under a green trapdoor. Percy pulled the cord. The door swung down, and a wooden ladder clattered into place. After he went up. Chiron turned to me. "Hmm? Something to say?" I asked in a hopefully not rude tone. "I've had enough of people staring at me thinking, I summoned that hellhound." "Y/N, I assure you I don't think you'd do that. I am just confused as to why it followed your command." "Did you maybe forget to tell us something? I really can't seem to find out who you are." "Well... I don't think I forgot to mention anything. Maybe the fact that water hates me, I've never been on a plane, and I am low-key kinda scared of the dark depending on the situation." "Water hates you?" Grover asked. "First time swimming, beach, I was 5. I drowned at a supposedly 3 feet deep water. I haven't been near any bodies of water ever since. Until I met Percy, I drowned at the beach again. If I wasn't mistaken I was few meters away from the water and it pulled me and I almost drowned." "It would seem, Poseidon hates you. Why would he?" "My parents must've realized that fish god hates me and didn't take chances on the others." I could tell Chiron wanted to continue but Percy came down, "Well?" Chiron asked. He slumped into a chair at the pinochle table. I could see he wasn't happy. "Are you okay?" I asked him. He looked at me warily and nodded. "She said I would retrieve what was stolen." Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!" "What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed. "This is important." "She . .. she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned." "I knew it," Grover said... Chiron didn't look satisfied. "Anything else?" "No," He said. "That's about it." I took a hold of Percy's hand. And he gave me a look that said, 'I'll tell you later.' "Very well, Percy. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass." "Okay," I said, anxious to change topics. "So where do we go? Who's this god in the west?" "Ah, think, Percy," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?" "Somebody else who wants to take over?" he guessed. "Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken." I thought about my dreams, the evil voice that had spoken from under the ground. "Hades." Chiron nodded. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility." A scrap of aluminum dribbled out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh-what?" "A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminded him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades." "Yes, but—but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protested. "Especially if he has found out Percy is a son of Poseidon... ." "A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continued. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on the quest." "Great," Percy muttered. "That's two major gods who want to kill me." "Hey, I beat you, I got all of them." I smirked. I was trying to lighten up the mood and Percy finally cracked a smile. "But a quest to..." Grover swallowed. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year." "Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth." A strange fire burned in my stomach. The weirdest thing was: it wasn't fear. It was anticipation. I wasn't feeling scared of anything right now. I felt like I could face anything. I was ready to take him on. Anyone in a matter of fact. Besides, if my mom and dad might be in the Underworld... which would be unlikely. Who knows maybe I could bribe him and talk him into reviving them. Or what if he's misunderstood? What if there's a plot twist somewhere here, and it actually wasn't Hades's fault? Grover was trembling. He'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips. The poor guy needed to complete a quest with us so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that was. This was suicide. "Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy told Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus or Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads." "It might not be him you know." I added. "She's right, suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron said. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?" "You're saying I'm being used." "I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon has claimed you now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs you." "Damn, my parent doesn't? I'm going on a deadly quest thanks to Arthur Curry right here. Least they could do is support me and let me know They'll be proud of me saving the world." I huffed. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?" "I had my suspicions. As I said... I've spoken to the Oracle, too." I got the feeling there was a lot he wasn't telling us about his prophecy, but I decided I couldn't worry about that right now. After all, I was holding back information too. "So let me get this straight," I said. "We're supposed go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead." "Check," Chiron said. "Find the most powerful weapon in the universe." "Check." "And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days." "That's about right." Percy and I looked at each other then we looked over at Grover, who gulped down the ace of hearts. "Did I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asked weakly. "You don't have to go," Percy told him. "I can't ask that of you. "Oh..." He shifted his hooves. "No... it's just that satyrs and underground places... well..." He took a deep breath, then stood, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his T-shirt. "You saved my life, Percy. Both of you did. If... if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let you down." I felt so relieved I wanted to cry, though I didn't think that would be very heroic. I wasn't sure what good a satyr could do against the forces of the dead, but I felt better knowing he'd be with us. "All the way, G-man." Percy turned to Chiron. "So where do we go? The Oracle just said to go west." "The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America." "Where?" Chiron looked surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles." "Oh," I said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane—" "No!" Grover shrieked. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?" I shook my head, feeling embarrassed. My mom had never taken me anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash. "We're not allowed to fly because Zeus is a stuck up who doesn't want others touching his stuff without permission." "Y/N!" Grover panicked when loud thunder echoed above us. I wanted to yell, 'Oh shut up thunder boy.' But I still wanted try fulfilling my promise to Luke with all I can. "Percy, think," Chiron said. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive." Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed. "Okay," I said, determined not to look at the storm. "So, I'll travel overland." "That's right," Chiron said. "Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other is Y/N. But someone else has already volunteered, if you will accept her help." "Gee," I said, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?" The air shimmered behind Chiron. Annabeth became visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket. "I've been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain," she said. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up." "I'll gladly give you my spot and all but... Percy and I are a duo." I lifted my fist which he bumped. "But she's right, we can't leave the world at the hands of two idiots and a scaredy-cat." "Can't we have four people on a quest?" "You can also pick more than two people to join, but this is considered dangerous as three is a sacred number. Any more than three on a quest could result in a catastrophe, including a member of the quest going missing, dying, or the quest failing." "Willing to risk it Peabody?" She gave me a glare. No. I assure you no one shall be lost in this quest. They were all looking at me weirdly. "What did you say?" "I asked if you were willing to risk it...?" I was confused. "Y/N you're doing it again." "Doing what? I am literally not doing anything wrong. Wanna fite me? I will back out of this quest." I gave an exaggerated glare. Annabeth turned to Chiron, who was looking down on me. "I suppose... if Percy is willing to risk it and all parties approve. I could allow this as a four person quest." "Well, I call not it to the dying person." I raised my hand. "But you can come Peabody. We need a not so stupid guy." "Well, if she say yes..." "I-I... don't really..." "I want to come." "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?" Her cheeks colored. "Do you want my help or not?" "A quartet," I said. "Hopefully it works." "Excellent," Chiron said. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own." Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather. "No time to waste," Chiron said. "I think you should all get packing." I took Percy's hand and gave him a look to remind him about his quest. "I'll tell you later."

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UwU Haha I'm better now :) I am sorry for being on haitus And for some parts that I might've forgotten to erase UwU -kookie-doughs

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#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Lightning thief #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #pjo #x reader #Book 1 #Chapter 9 #Fanfiction #fanfictions

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otomememento · 4 years ago

Text

Information Interrupted

What was blood? In the most basic terms it was one of the many substances that kept a person alive. And for that reason, it became a word of many meanings, some positive and some negative, but all carrying the weight of life and death lingering in the sound. All humans depended on it. But to Esme, it was equal parts a blessing and a curse. For even as it kept it alive, it was also killing her. Medical aid had kept her going for the last several years, but here, in Paris of the late 1800’s, the medical field was far less advanced. Though she had gone to Paris to escape the never ceasing doctors appointments, it had led her down a different path. And now that she wanted to linger a little longer, the means by which she was lingering were out of reach.

One morning she woke up, her head pounding in her ears. Her body felt tired, sluggish, sore. She hadn’t felt it this bad in some time; the regular appointments with the doctors made sure of that. But she had gone off the treatment, and now it was coming back in force. Still, she didn’t want her hosts, or fellow house mates to worry, so she forced herself to get up.

If Sebastian noticed how ill she was, he said nothing, and was fairly mild when it came to correcting her mistakes. He had almost gotten her to a point where she was doing her chores to his satisfaction, though he realized she would never quite match him. But he could hardly hold it against her when she was obviously trying her best. Still, there was concern in his eyes as he watched her, though he kept it schooled when she was looking directly at him. He would have to speak to Le Comte about their guest. Perhaps she had caught something when she was in town…

The opportunity didn’t present itself right away, and time took care of the rest.

Esme often ran little errands for people in the house, fetching and carrying items or messages. In the shadow of their greatness, she felt that she could at least make sure they had what they needed to continue their various works, whether it was ink for writing, a book from the library, a preferred sweet or snack. It didn’t matter to her, really, as long as it was something she could manage. And it even made her happy to do so. Some of the residents were more grateful, on the surface, than others. She never expected much gratitude from Mozart or Theo, as it wasn’t really in their personality to do so. Vincent was probably one of her favorites to see, simply because he was just so kind and cheerful to everyone; she never had to worry about a harsh word from him. Even his blond hair was welcome, not simply because it was a bright color, but because it was so close to her own shade of hair that it gave the illusion of a connection.

On that day she had been bringing in some paintbrushes that he had requested. While Sebastian often did the shopping, Esme was often the one to disperse the goods among the residents. Her steps were slower on this occasion, more unsteady. Vincent, who was busy at work, thanked her kindly, but didn’t turn to look at her when she entered the room. However, he stopped the moment he heard the thud, turning to see that she had collapsed on the floor. Worried, he called out to her, but she didn’t respond, and when he knelt beside her, she looked so very pale. So Vincent did what was most natural to him: he called for Theo.

While he was often acerbic with Esme, Theo meant the girl no harm, nor did he wish her any ill will. When he joined his brother and saw how unwell Esme looked, his concern was real, and he chastised himself for not noticing she was so weak. He had a fine eye for art, and for people, but it had been too easy to dismiss her. He should have known better. But, then it occurred to him that no one had really done, or said, anything to indicate she wasn’t well. Not even the resident doctor, who certainly had spent enough time staring at her, but not as a medical subject. And, of course, that was the next person he contacted: if anyone knew what to make of the situation, it would be Arthur.

It took a few moments for Theo to impress upon Arthur the seriousness of the matter, but once he reached through the flippant façade, Arthur didn’t waste any further time being clever and hurried with Theo back to Vincent’s room, where the painter was still keeping a watchful, but worried, eye on the fallen girl. Vincent, who hadn’t known of Arthur’s medical position, was surprised at first, but when he saw how methodical Arthur was, he didn’t question it, but quietly stood back so he wouldn’t be in the way, and watched, ready to fetch anyone else if it was required. After a cursory examination, Arthur stood up, expression grim.

“We’re going to move her to her room. I’ll carry her. Theo, go ahead of me to open doors and make sure no one gets in the way; we can answer questions later. Vincent, go fetch Le Comte.” There was nothing of the playboy in his mannerisms now, and while Theo could be belligerent towards the arbitrary authority of the upper class, this was the authority of experience speaking, and he didn’t balk at Arthur’s commands. He simply opened the door, determined to follow the orders. Arthur was firm, but gentle, as he scooped up Esme, carrying her with a good balance of speed and caution. Vincent’s room only had a narrow couch, and it simply wasn’t the best place to keep her.

Theo dealt tersely with anyone they met in the halls, and seeing no trace of Arthur’s usual levity, it was easy for them to believe that the situation was serious. Hushed voices trailed behind them as the residents dispersed, not wanting to get in the way. While they all had their issues, and not all of them were fond of Esme, none of them had a sense that they were so much more important than her when her health was at stake. Le Comte joined them when they were almost at Esme’s room, Sebastian hovering in concern behind him. As the other human in the mansion, this was particularly worrisome to the generally stoic butler.

Arthur lay Esme down carefully in her bed, working to loosen any tight clothing, already checking her vitals again in various places. Near the door, Theo and Vincent explained everything so far, from the moment Vincent heard Esme fall. Le Comte, although eager to hear from Arthur, let the man finish his work, knowing that rushing him would not do anyone any good. He could be patient; living for so long had given him that gift at least.

Part way through the examination, Esme stirred and slowly opened her eyes, her unfocused gaze gradually gaining clarity and settling on Arthur’s face. Although she looked very startled to see him there, of all people, she didn’t exactly look alarmed. In fact, she mostly looked tired and a little foggy-headed.

“What happened?”

“You passed out. I carried you here from Vincent’s room.”

“Oh.” There was a long pause. “Thank you.” Esme tried to pull herself to a sitting position, but Arthur put out a hand to stop her. She didn’t resist this, and slumped back against her pillows. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t make a mess or anything, did I? I remember…I was delivering paintbrushes.”

“Don’t worry about the brushes. Even if they were damaged, I don’t think Vincent is the type to make a fuss,” Arthur reassured her.

“I suppose that’s right,” Esme agreed, though she didn’t sound too certain. Not that she didn’t believe the words, but her mind was just not working the way she wanted it too. Something was nagging at her, but she couldn’t put a finger on it.

“I will have to ask you some questions about your health. But Le Comte is worried, and he’s waiting for me to talk to him. Do you want everyone to leave while I ask these questions? He might be the master of the household, but your privacy is important.” It seemed almost funny to hear Arthur talk so seriously about privacy when he had shown such little regard for personal space when they first met. Finally Esme’s thoughts clicked into focus.

“Oh! Are you a doctor?” she asked him. She knew he was a writer, of mystery novels no less, but she also knew that a lot of authors had other jobs as well. Most people didn’t have the fortune to just be a writer all along.

“Yes.” It was a single word, blandly spoken, betraying nothing. It wasn’t much like Arthur’s usual, glib responses. Esme blinked a few times as she tried to absorb this other side to Arthur. She wanted to ask him about it, but her head was starting to really pound again. Wincing she closed her eyes. “Where does it hurt? What kind of pain is it?” The questions, while concerned, were also very direct.

“My head, mostly. Makes it hard to think.” Esme didn’t shake her head, knowing that it would just rattle her more, but she looked around, her eyes moving slowly as though even such a thing was hard to do. “Ask your questions.” It wasn’t a command, as the words might suggest, but Esme didn’t have the energy to waste the words required to be as round about as usual. Arthur waved everyone else away.

“Do you know what is wrong already?” asked Arthur when the room was cleared. Esme started slightly. It seemed strange that it was the first question he asked, but then she vaguely remembered that he was so very clever. Of course he would pick out something like that, though she didn’t know how. She just couldn’t piece it together herself in the state she was in.

“Yes, it’s…my blood,” she managed to say before passing out again.

Blood. The word itself sent a thrill through Arthur, fight it though he may. Whatever she meant by it, it certainly wasn’t an invitation to the predator inside him. No, he would have to work to rouse her again to get the answers out of her, since she seemed to know what was going on. Meddling around with her health could have negative consequences that could be mitigated by information. Already he was on his feet, issuing orders to bring him a variety of things he would need. Even the master of the household listed to such orders. For now.

#ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire fanfic

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kaminobiwan · 5 years ago

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stargazing

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader

summary: Existential musings under the stars. Real Disney Princess moment here, folks. (Obi is the princess obviously)

a/n: The prompt demanded it be given to Padawan!Obi. I simply complied. Also, I sprinkled some of my astronomy knowledge in there, bc uni. Thank you AST 104.

This was part of my 175 follower celebration (still open), requested by the ever lovely @highcouncil! Please, for the love of all that is holy, do your Obi-Wan Kenobi-loving hearts a favor and read her amazing work. You’ll thank yourselves for it.

“That one’s the Burning Snake.”

Obi-Wan points to an ambiguous spot in the sky, his too-big robes flapping across his face. He shakes his arm, readjusting the folds, and gestures again.

“Sorry — that one.”

He hears you toss a snort over your shoulder, your back to his as you lean on each other to stay upright. Both of your necks are craned towards the constellations that dapple the ink-black backdrop blanketing Coruscant, and the night is soundless with the exception of your voices.

“Are you sure you’re remembering these right? I’m pretty sure you were reading that starmap upside-down earlier.”

“Was not,” he exclaims, though there is some truth to each of your statements. He’d quickly corrected the map before too long, and he was sure of his memorization after spending so much time in the archives. Positive.

You shift against him, seemingly placated, and he relaxes too, careful not to tug on the Padawan braid behind your ear. It’s predictably still sore after Quinlan had tangled your braids together in a practical joke only three hours ago, the two of you too engrossed in your readings to notice that the Force was being manipulated against you. It had taken fourteen minutes and half a jar of flounut butter to unravel the knots that had formed in the fray.

You gesture towards a star in the distance, and Obi-Wan follows your lead. “What’s that one, then?”

His answer comes immediately. “The Eye of the Pirate. At least make it a challenge for me.”

Your noise of lofty glee jolts him from his position, and he nearly falls flat on his back as you maneuver your body above him so that you’re face to face. Though from his point of view, you’re upside-down. “It was a trick question. The Eye of the Pirate is only visible from Corellia.”

He frowns, his hands moving to cushion his head. “No, it’s not. We can see it from here, too.”

You make an unpleasant face at him, but he thinks it’s rather cute from this angle. As soon as the thought passes through his brain, though, it’s gone. He shuffles away to hide his face from you, but you’re too close to escape.

“You’re wrong. Not every red star is the Eye of the Pirate, Obi!”

Truthfully — and it’s not just because he doesn’t want to admit he might be incorrect — he’s not sure if the star is in fact the one he claims it to be, or whether he’d mixed up Coruscant with Corellia in his studying. But he’s desperate to get out of your line of sight — even though it’s late into the evening, the moonlight pouring into the Temple garden illuminates the entirety of the landscape, and no doubt his embarrassment along with it.

Ever since you’d started to call him Obi, it was hard to handle being in close proximity to you. The physical reaction his blushing upper body always displayed was definitely not something Qui-Gon would be pleased by.

“Okay, maybe it’s not!” He retorts, and you tumble down next to him with a laugh. He blinks some of your hair out of his eyes, but doesn’t ask you to move away from the spot you’ve placed your head, snug into the juncture between his shoulder and neck. Much better.

“Enough with the quizzing, anyway.” Your murmur brings him back to the stars, and he has to remind himself not to turn his head to look at you. “Let’s just take it all in.”

“But you love quizzes.”

“Yes, when the real thing isn’t right there in front of us,” you tease, and Obi-Wan clamps his mouth shut once more. “It’s called stargazing. Not star-analyzing.”

“There is such a thing as — ”

“Shh!”

He fidgets in the grass, unsure of what to do in the silence next to you. As he connects the dots between the clusters of stars across the dark expanse, his memory supplies endless cascades of information and astronomic facts, filling his mental capacity to the point that —

“Obi-Wan.”

Your voice is hushed, as if you’ve just woken up from slumber, but he hears the slight command in your words. “Yes?”

“I can hear your thoughts from here.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

You lean up on your outside elbow, tilting towards him and tucking your hair behind your neck before it can prick the skin of his forehead. “Aren’t you the prodigy of meditation among your crèchemates? What’s wrong?”

Instead of meeting your eyes, Obi-Wan shrugs, and feigns a stretch. “Just having trouble, I guess.”

“You guess.” You echo, unconvinced, but lay back down regardless. “You’re worried about something.”

“I’m not worried, I’m restless. It doesn’t seem right to be stargazing if we’re not going to at least study them. We both have upcoming assignments, might I remind you.”

As if you could have forgotten. Your mission to Halcyon was all you’d been talking about the past week. Still, you’d gushed more over your excitement at hearing his stories than chronicling your own. Obi-Wan had promised to tell you all about the planet of Naboo upon his return to the Temple.

“You’re fretting over the trade dispute? I’m sure you’ll be able to handle the Federation representatives. Though I’ve read that Neimoidian workers regularly compete amongst themselves, and the winning team gets to eat the other — !” You catch the look he sends you out of the corner of your eye, and he allows himself a half-smile as you bashfully fall silent. “Sorry. Probably not what you want to hear right now.”

The apology wasn’t necessary. You both know it. But sometimes, he appreciates that you’d rather it still be said.

“I’m just…feeling unprepared. Luminara and Shaak Ti both faced the trials at my age, and I thought I’d be ready. But I can’t even tell if Qui-Gon thinks I am or not.” You’ve stilled beside him, but he feels you latching on to every word. “I don’t know.”

“You are ready,” you say simply.

“Yes, and if I am, then what?” He asks, to no one in particular. He knows the stars have as much a probability of knowing the future as you do. Maybe more, judging by how often Qui-Gon called to them in exasperation. “Everything changes. I can’t help but feel as though nothing will be the same, soon.”

You’re quiet for a moment, but then he hears what sounds like a chuckle from you. He raises a confused eyebrow, but doesn’t shift his body.

“Obi, of course everything will change. Nothing can stop that,” you say, reaching your fingers out and upwards. “Even the stars can’t prevent themselves from growing and dissipating. Eventually, they’ll all turn into nebulas, or supernovas, or black holes in violent implosions.” You trace an imaginary line across the air, drawing your own constellation, joining together specks that Obi-Wan imagines must be hundreds of parsecs apart. His eyes follow the pattern as you go. “You’re not a star.”

He blinks. “I’m not?”

Immediately, he wants to palm his face, because obviously he’s not a star, no matter how luminous Master Yoda professes him to be, but he just hadn’t known what you meant and now he’s gone and made himself sound like an idiot. But you continue, unfazed, as if you’d predicted he’d respond in kind.

“You’re not,” you repeat, and lower your hand down to your stomach. “You can choose what you become. You’re not born with a predestined fate. You have control.” Obi-Wan feels his body sink further into the ground, and some voice in the back of his head has the agency to surmise that you sound much wiser beyond your years right now. “What matters most is whether you take that control, or give it back to the universe.”

And now, he’s silent, because how in the name of the Force is he supposed to respond to that?

But you bound up again, high-spirited and bubbly and not nearly as prophetic as you had been a second earlier, and conclude, “At least, that’s what Master Koon says.”

He groans as you release a peal of laughter, and slumps further into the dirt. “Did you seriously just recite one of his lessons to me?”

“No! I made it much more interesting,” you clutch a hand to your chest in mock displeasure, and Obi-Wan crosses his arms. “I mean, I ad-libbed along the way, but I still meant what I said. I don’t think it’ll do you any good to worry.” As you speak, he lets his eyes unfocus towards the stars, white and yellow and blue diamonds alike blurring together in a disjointed mosaic. The tip of your nose rims the edge of his vision, and he exhales slowly with what feels like relief, though he isn’t completely sure. But you seem to be more at peace, too, and your voice even drops to a solemn resonance. “What you ask for tends to come and find you. Serenity, wisdom, trouble…”

“I’ve definitely heard him say that,” Obi-Wan muses, and he knows you’re hiding a grin next to him.

“It’s true,” you reply.

You both lay in the garden for several long moments more, until the voices of your masters can be heard calling your names.

Neither of you get up, despite it. A smile of his own creeps up his cheeks, and Obi-Wan knows you’re thinking exactly the same thing he is.

“Pretend we’re asleep so they’ll have to carry us back to the dorms?”

“Master Koon might break another arm, but yep. Worth it.”

“Worth it,” he agrees, and closes his eyes.

#rini writes #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi x you #star wars imagines #YES THEY’RE STUDY BUDDIES AGAIN WHAT ABOUT IT #AND YEAH HE’S IN HIS 20S BUT WE ALL LIKE BEING CARRIED BACK TO BED DON’T WE #and yes plo koon is your master bc he is dad™#obi has high functioning anxiety and feels like he must be doing some thing productive at all times 25/8 #tbh i never thought i’d write padawan obi but after this i must return to him he is a soft boi #also he is so damn fine in that gif like whew he’s beautiful #anyways that’s my thoughts #this was so cute to write 🥺#made myself soft LOL #i love you all xxx #hope you like it #rini reaches 175!

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quartzwriting · 5 years ago

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With The Malfoys

Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Description: You had been staying with your boyfriend’s family, the Malfoys, before the summer break is over. You also go with them on a trip to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies for the new year. Draco comforts your insecurity.

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Originally posted on Qutoev / TRANS LIVES MATTER / I really like this one, wrote it when I was on a Draco high a few years ago haha. Also more Draco cause he’s popular right now. (I’m not into Draco anymore but these exist)

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

You began to stir in your sleep when someone started knocking on the guest bedroom door. The sun shining in your eyes from the large windows didn’t help at all. You heard the door open and small footsteps follow behind.

“Lady (Y/N)? You’ve requested for me to wake you up at this hour.”

The light voice of the small house elf fully woke you up. You sat up and rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. “Yes, thank you Sammi.”

“Also, Mrs. Malfoy has invited you for morning tea. And an owl came this morning for you.” The little house elf said as she began to flatten out the sheets on your large guest bed. She had handed you a letter closed with a familiar seal. You didn’t hesitate to rip it open read it.

Hope you’re doing well darling,

It does feel weird having you be gone from the house two weeks early, but I assume everything is fine over there. I received a letter from Lucius and he says he enjoys having you at the Manor, and that he has noticed how happy you make his son. He says he wants you back for your Christmas break, he invited me and your father as well. Let me know and we’ll hopefully see you for Christmas over there. I hope you are remembering your manners over there! Treat everyone well and don’t forget to go to Diagon Alley to get your stuff for school. And write me back if you can!

See you soon, I love you

Signed

-Your mother

You were staying at Malfoy Manor for the last two weeks of summer break. Despite them being controversial both at school and in wizarding world in general, you loved Draco’s family. They adored you and they insisted that you stay with them before the next school year started.

The letter from your mother made you happy, but also semi embarrassed you. You have often received positive things from both your and Draco’s parents that you were dating. It took a while for his father to warm up to you, but his mother loved you instantly. And your parents adored Draco. All four of them never let you forget how perfect they thought you were.

You got up and Sammi the house elf made your bed behind you. Over the past few days, she sort of became your personal house elf since she was assigned to you so much. You showed her nothing but kindness and compassion. It was nice to have someone like her with you all throughout your stay.

You got ready in the bathroom and dressed into a clean outfit. A simple black dress and some black heel boots. You found yourself dressing a bit more formal when with the Malfoys, you grew to like it (and you felt good wearing nice dresses).

You came back into your room to find Sammi tidying it up a bit. She worked really hard by what you have seen her do.

“I appreciate your company, Sammi.”

She turned to you and her huge eyes lit up. “No one has ever been as kind to me as you, Lady (Y/N)!” Her speech was not like other house elves, not referring to herself in third person.

“It’s nothing don’t worry.” You waved it off. “Also I told you that you don’t have to call me ‘lady’.”

“Are you sure? I’m too used to being so formal to our guests."

You nodded and she smiled. You walked over to your bedside table and picked up your wand to place in the belt of your dress.

“But I quite like the sound of ‘lady (Y/N)’!” Sammi beamed, dusting a nearby shelf.

“There’s no need, really.” You replied, picking up the glass of water next to where your wand was and taking a sip.

“But really…” She paused. “Maybe someday I’ll be calling you Mrs. Malfoy.”

You choked and water went down the wrong way.

“I honestly do hope you and Master Draco get married. Maybe it will happen once you both graduate from Hogwarts. Oh, a house elf can only dream.” And with that she left your room, leaving you a coughing and blushing mess.

~~~~

Descending the main staircase, you made your way towards the drawing room where Narcissa Malfoy often invited you to have tea in the morning. You knew where you were going now, the manor had become familiar dispute its size. The first few days you always found yourself lost in the giant mansion, there were too many rooms to explore and curiosity took over plenty of times.

“Good morning, darling.” Narcissa greeted you while using her wand to pour you tea.

“Morning, Narcissa.” She had insisted that you call her by her first name.

“Did you get your letter? Who was it from?”

You sat down in the chair across from hers, it was soft and large. Taking your tea, you curled up on the chair. “The letter was from my mother.”

She smiled into her tea cup. “Oh (your mother’s name), I do miss her. Maybe she and your father should join us for Christmas…oh has Lucius or Draco mentioned that to you yet?”

“They hadn’t told me, but mum mentioned it in her letter. She’d love to come I’m sure.”

“I hope they do.” Narcissa smiled. “I’m sure if you asked them you all could join us.”

“I can ask them. I should write them back.”

Narcissa was already on it, using her magic to hand you a piece of parchment and a quill with ink already. You thanked her and began a letter back to your mother, writing on top of a book on your lap. Neutral peaceful silence fell in the room, Narcissa now petting a cat while you wrote to your mother and drank your tea. While writing, the large doors to the room opened and you wondered who had entered.

"Morning, Princess."

It was Draco. You felt his presence over your shoulder so you scooted over in your chair for him to sit. He did so, plopping down and slinging his arm around you.

"Morning mother." He smiled innocently, she was eyeing him for not acknowledging her earlier along with you. He then glanced down at you , "Whats this?"

"Mum wrote me this morning, replying back." You answered, then raising your quill to tickle his face for a split second just to bug him.

“Oh Draco, what do you think about the (L/N)s joining us for Christmas this year?” His mother asked him, chiming in about the letter.

"That would be great." He answered but he sounded unsure, then he continued which explained it, "but...do we want them near the other people we usually invite to our Christmas parties?"

"What do you mean?" She raised an eyebrow.

He turned to you. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to meet my aunt Bella, (Y/N).”

“Do not speak of your aunt like that Draco.” Narcissa scoffed. “But...it is true that my sister is a little…uh”

“Insane?” Draco suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Peculiar.” She corrected while eyeing her son.

"I'm sure me and my parents will survive a party here." You laughed.

~~~~

“Why is it that whenever I set foot in Diagon Alley, I instantly smell mudbloods?”

You slapped him on the shoulder. “Draco!”

“What? It’s kinda true.” This told you that he was trying to make a joke, but you just rolled your eyes.

You, Draco, Lucius and Narcissa were now walking down the street in Diagon Alley to get the things on your list for your next year at Hogwarts.

Once you got to a populated area, you felt eyes staring at you and the Malfoys. You instantly grew self conscious. You wrapped your arms around yourself and suddenly became aware of how heavy your footsteps sounded with the heels. Did you look like a snob to them? Too dramatic or over the top? Actually...do people think that you’re a Death Eater?

Draco noticed that you had become fidgety and nervous. He put it together and saw that you didn’t like the stares. He reached out and gently grabbed your hand to hold it.

“It’s okay, darling.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him protectively. “Keep that head held high. They’re just jealous that you’re so beautiful.”

You blushed and chuckled under your breath. Soon you found a small push of confidence, head up and smiling.

Yeah that’s right, I’m with the Malfoys! I probably look really good right now.

One of the first stops was Flourish and Blotts, where you needed to get the new textbooks for your classes. Draco’s parents had wandered to speak with another pure blood family that was on the other side of the shop, while you and Draco looked for textbooks. You scanned the shelves for a copy of Advanced Potion-making, and you felt Draco looming over your shoulder as he helped you look.

Then something caught your attention and you listened carefully. There was a group talking somewhere, and you swear you heard them mutter Malfoy and (L/N). Draco was busy mumbling to himself the book titles as he browsed the shelves, while you listened. It clicked in your head and the voices were suddenly recognizable.

You didn’t look in their direction and tried to act casual. Draco hadn’t noticed yet, so you slapped him lightly to get his attention.

“Draco.” You whispered.

He kept talking to himself, “Scamander? What an unfortunate surname to have...”

You rolled your eyes, “Draco!”

“What?”

“Shh! Listen.”

He did, then he understood what you meant. The two of you listened into the conversation while still trying to look like you were busy.

“Also why do they always dress like that? Are they going to a party?”

“Those heels (L/N) is wearing look really uncomfortable.”

“I’m surprised they’re still together. How long has it been?”

“A few years now.”

“Longer than most people at Hogwarts.”

“I don’t care, it’s still disgusting.”

“Is she with him just because he’s rich?”

“Maybe.”

"Maybe they've been arranged, like an arranged marriage."

"I wouldn't be surprised, not many pure blood families to keep the Malfoy family completely pure."

“They look like they’re plotting something…”

“Just by looking at books?”

“They always look like they’re up to no good.”

“Probably been bowing to You-Know-Who all summer.”

Draco had enough and he spoke up, “You’re really bad at being quiet, Potter.”

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger all stopped talking, and turned to you and Draco with shocked faces. A smirk pulled at your lips, and you assumed your boyfriend was doing the same, the menacing smiles of a perfect Slytherin duo and couple.

You followed Draco as he approached the trio, knowing that all hell was about to break loose. But you were here for it. You stood there, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Draco and Harry have a standoff.

While the boys were nagging at each other, you watched with amusement. You quickly glanced to the side and looked at the bookshelf. “Oh look, here they are!” You took two copies of Advanced Potion-making off the shelf, which was right beside Granger. Somehow this irritated her.

“Oh by the way.” You started. “I’m not with him just because he’s rich,” You did your best intentionally annoying Hermione Granger impression. “and we weren't arranged. Pfff. Shame on you, mudblood.”

Alright maybe that was a little low for you to stoop down to, but what she said really got on your nerves so you said the first insult you thought of to call her.

The tension created by the mutual hatred on both sides caused a few other shoppers to stop and watch for at least one second. Draco was in the process of defending his last name from association with the dark arts, and it was amusing to you that he could piss off Harry just by barely opening his mouth.

“And I’d like to see you walk in these.” You showed off your heeled shoes to Granger which you noticed bugged her. “You’d probably trip and break your ankle in one step.”

Then you both went off, mirroring Draco and Harry. It could have gone on for much longer, but a large figure that appeared made the three Gryffindors tense and freeze.

“I really hope these blood traitors aren't giving you two any trouble.” Lucius’ voice rang out, him now standing behind you both with his wife.

“They were speaking negatively about us.” You stated with irritation, but with a hint of a smug smile.

Narcissa put her hands on her son’s shoulders protectively. "Forget them, dears. They are not worth your time."

"You're right mother, they're not at all." Draco held his nose in the air and began to walk off with Narcissa.

Lucius glared at the three, “Do not ever disrespect my future daughter-in-law. Come along, (Y/N).” The man lead you away from them, you still holding the textbooks you and Draco needed.

That comment made you blush, but it put a smile on your face once you saw the trio’s expressions; in some state of disbelief and jaws slightly slack. So you followed Lucius with your head held high.

~~~~

It was now September first, and the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave any minute now, but Narcissa’s bone crushing hug was preventing you from getting on the train.

“Mum, let her go.” Draco rolled his eyes and tried to pry his mother’s arms off of you.

She eventually did, but took your shoulders to look at you, "You watch over him, alright?"

"I will." You laughed.

Draco grabbed you hand and you both jumped onto the train just as it was leaving. You looked back and waved to his parents.

“We love you! Stay out of trouble!” His mother called one last time before they were out of sight.

"Why does mum have to be so embarrassing sometimes..." Draco mumbled under his breath as he pulled you along the hall to find an empty car.

"Because it's her job to embarrass you." You giggled, and he shook his head.

Once you found an empty car and settled in, you both sat down for the long train ride. You leaned your head on Draco's shoulder, and he let out a breath of amusement. You knew he was smirking, with content.

"You can take a nap if you want, darling." Draco chuckled, seeing how comfortable you have become now cuddling up to him.

"I could~" You sighed, now wrapping your arms around his torso, "wake me up when we get there..."

Draco smiled, placing one hand around your waist and the other on top of one of yours. He kissed your temple, and made a mental note that if Crabbe and Goyle wanted to share a car with you both, he wouldn't let them wake you.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin #slytherin reader #draco malfoy x you #malfoy x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader insert #tom felton #draco #harry potter

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sashabarkov · 4 years ago

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S with JZX & NHS

S/19: Walking to their home through a storm. Also posted on AO3.

Set during the Cloud Recesses lectures. Contains a non-graphic appearance by Nie Huaisang’s library of smutty literature.

Nie Huaisang curses under his breath as he hurries down the path, hunching his shoulders to protect his precious books from the pounding rain. Gusu summers are wet enough that the storm shouldn’t have caught him off guard, but the morning had just been so clear and warm that he’d gotten complacent, heading out to the back hill to do some private reading on the sunwarmed rocks and maybe spot a few birds. The sky had given him less than five minutes’ warning between the first clouds rolling in and the rain pouring down, which with Cloud Recesses’ meandering paths and spread out buildings, wasn’t anywhere near enough time to get back to shelter.

In Qinghe, this wouldn’t be a problem, he thinks sourly as water runs down the back of his neck, sneaking through his hair and under his robes. The Unclean Realm may sprawl, but it sprawls like a hulking beast, haunches tucked under itself, ready to spring. The largest empty spaces are the training grounds and the gardens by the main family’s quarters, and those are all bordered by roofed walkways, to shelter under when the winter snow is gusting.

There’s a pavilion coming up on his left, if he remembers correctly; maybe he can take shelter there until the worst of the storm passes. He pushes himself into a sprint, gasping for breath as he hurtles down the path and rounds the corner—

There’s a person in the way.

Nie Huaisang wheezes as the collision knocks the wind out of him and throws him down onto the path, losing his grip on one of the books. The other person lands on top of it, but they scramble to their feet before Nie Huaisang can even get his breath back, hauling him up and dragging him bodily into the pavilion.

“Watch where you’re headed!” Jin Zixuan snaps, dumping him on one of the stone benches. There’s smudges of mud flecked across the front of his pale robes, the Sparks Amid Snow on his left shoulder stained with spots of dark brown, and the hand that isn’t locked around Nie Huaisang’s elbow is clutching the dropped book, bent open to an illustration halfway through.

“Sorry!” Nie Huaisang finally manages to catch his breath, leaning against the small table and setting down the two books that have survived his rainy mishap. “Sorry, ah, sorry, Jin-xiong, I didn’t see you there, but—you didn’t seem to see me either, right?” He lets out a nervous laugh.

Jin Zixuan huffs and rolls his eyes. “Careless,” he mutters, and then, “...are you alright? That was a rough landing.”

Nie Huaisang takes a moment to assess his body. A line of bruises is forming along the outside of his right leg, from knee to hip, and his elbow feels like he’s skinned it, but it’s nothing serious; around anyone else, he’d make a big fuss to get pampered, but there’s greater tragedies to bemoan right now. “I’m fine, but...”

He stares mournfully at his now-ruined book, crumpled and dripping in Jin Zixuan’s hand. It’s a new one, a cutsleeve volume devoted to a sordid tale of bondage and overstimulation, rare and exotic—such a shame that the pages are now likely soaked and the ink running. Jin Zixuan hasn’t seemed to realize he’s holding it yet.

Now that’s a thought; Nie Huaisang pulls out his fan to hide a smile. The sight of the haughty young master of Koi Tower holding a book of cutsleeve pornography, the clear illustrations of male pleasure spread out behind his fingers, is an amusing (and quite attractive) one, but he would like to find out if any part of the book is salvageable. “Ah... Jin-xiong... if you wouldn’t mind, could I have my book back?”

Jin Zixuan glances down at the volume—and then drops it like he’s been burned.

Nie Huaisang can’t help it; he bursts into laughter, cackling at the way Jin Zixuan stumbles back, eyes wide in shock, cheeks flushing bright red. “Why are you always carrying such things around in public?” the other boy hisses, glancing down at the offending literature once and then very determinedly looking everywhere but.

The book has, somehow, landed face up, open to the same page. If the illustrations have been damaged, then Nie Huaisang can’t tell from this distance; they’re just as easily discernable as they had been before the unfortunate rainstorm.

“Is this subject matter not to Jin-gongzi’s tastes?” he grins, reaching for his other books. “Don’t worry! This humble servant has a wide assortment of literature to satisfy all manner of desires and interests! With your arrangement over, it’s only natural to indulge your curiosity—”

He’s not expecting the hands that slam down on top of his own, pinning them (and his books) to the table. “You’re. In. Public!” the other boy bites out, his face less than three hands’ widths from Nie Huaisang’s own, and the panic brewing in his eyes makes Nie Huaisang cut his teasing short.

In the split second he has to choose a course of action, he makes note of three things. The first is that all of Jin Zixuan’s objections so far have not centered around the books themselves, but rather looking at then where other people could see. The second is that this is maybe the first time in five months of lectures that he’s seen Jin Zixuan without an entourage.

The third is that he quite likes the sensation of Jin Zixuan’s hands on his own.

“What if...” he says as the silence starts to stretch out for a litte too long, making the carefully calculated move to bite his lip a little when he pauses. It’s bait for a reaction, subtle enough to play off if it’s not appreciated, but judging by the way Jin Zixuan’s eyes flick downward, it’s working well enough. Very interesting. “Hypothetically speaking, of course, pure speculation, nothing more, but... what if we weren’t in public?”

“We?” Jin Zixuan blinks, clearly caught off guard by the implied invitation, but still letting it coax him away from his fears. To his credit, he manages to gather himself enough soldier on. “We’re still—anyone could see—”

“Yes, but what if we weren’t?” Nie Huaisang leans forward, up, peering coyly out from under his eyelashes as he brings them even closer together. His thigh protests lightly, but it’s it worth it for the way Jin Zixuan’s elegant throat works as the other boy swallows, thrown off by his proximity. “I wouldn’t tell. No one would know.”

He isn’t just talking about the books anymore.

Jin Zixuan’s grip has gone slack; Nie Huaisang easily slips one of his hands out from under the other boy’s and sets it on top—lightly, just a little pressure, a little warmth—enough to be thought-provoking. “Well?” he prompts.

Jin Zixuan glances around, making sure they’re still alone, and then lets go and takes a step back. He hesitates briefly as his boot brushes against the book still open on the floor, before bending to pick it up, carefully close it, and set it back on the table, all without looking. “You’re... wet,” he says slowly, as if he’s waiting for someone to yell at him for saying the wrong words, “and cold, and... with your low cultivation, you could easily get sick, so... it’s only right and proper for me to walk you back to your room. To make sure you get there safe. And dry. And without any more... books damaged. Right?”

Nie Huaisang beams and doesn’t even reach for his fan to hide it; he can give Jin Zixuan this much, as a reward. “That sounds perfect, Jin-xiong! Thank you, you’re so good!”

Jin Zixuan blushes again (very prettily, in Nie Huaisang’s opinion) and then steps out into the rain again, to where an umbrella has been lying discarded this whole time, sitting upside down at the spot where they’d collided. He picks it up and hurries back to the pavilion, brushing a little mud off the umbrella’s crown, and Nie Huaisang has the abrupt realization that the reason it had been left sitting there during their whole conversation is because Jin Zixuan had chosen to grab him and his book instead.

Despite the wind and his waterlogged robes, that thought makes him feel rather warm.

“Are you gonna get up, or is that beyond your level of cultivation too?” Jin Zixuan says, and then immediately grimaces, clearly regretting his words.

It’ll take a lot more to offend Nie Huaisang than that; he grins and stands, stowing his fan in his robes and gathering up his books. “How can I resist, when you ask so nicely?” he teases, just to watch Jin Zixuan blush again and look away hastily as he joins him.

The umbrella isn’t big enough for both of them, but as long as Nie Huaisang’s books are sheltered under it, he doesn’t really care. He’s already too soaked for it to make much of a difference, and his cultivation isn’t actually low enough for a little water and a stiff breeze to hurt him (no matter how often he may pretend otherwise). Still, it’s a stroke to his ego, the way Jin Zixuan lets him cling to his elbow and centers the umbrella over him, leaving one of his own arms unprotected, the mud-stained Sparks Amid Snow exposed to the pouring rain.

They don’t meet anyone on the walk, which is probably for the best, despite the part of Nie Huaisang that wants to show off just how much progress he has made on this new conquest (in just ten minutes, too!). In no time at all, they’re back to the covered walkways of Cloud Recesses’ most frequented areas, but even though the umbrella is no longer providing an excuse for closeness, Jin Zixuan doesn’t shake Nie Huaisang off, and Nie Huaisang doesn’t let go himself until they reach his rooms.

He opens the door and then pauses halfway through, pulling out his fan and tapping it to his chin as if he’d just had an idea. “Oh! It would be discourteous of me to not offer refreshments after you so kindly sheltered and guarded me on my perilous journey. Perhaps you could join me for some tea?”

Jin Zixuan doesn’t respond right away, frozen just outside, a variety of emotions flickering across his face. They’re mostly too fast for Nie Huaisang to read, but he manages to pick out a few—apprehension, nerves, and... something else, something deep-seeded, a fear he can barely see—

Oh.

Right.

This is a Jin he’s talking to. Someone who’s grown up in Koi Tower. Someone who has to deal with Jin Guangshan as a father.

“Hey,” he says, setting his fan down on the small shelf by the door, “you can say no at any time, alright? And so can I, to anything. Nothing’s gonna happen unless we both agree to it.”

Jin Zixuan slumps a little, tension bleeding out of his shoulders. “Yeah, okay,” he sighs, and steps inside.

Nie Huaisang smiles, and shuts the door behind him.

#and then they kiss #nie huaisang #jin zixuan #sangxuan #mine #fics #prompts #not gonna lie this was largely fueled by spite bc i saw someone say something mean about sangxuan #spite fic is a long and storied genre #jin zixuan: this stuff should be kept in the bedroom!! callout post for my dad!!#oatplant

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houndin-around · 5 years ago

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Volition | Darth Maul

warnings: angst, minor abuse from previous master, minor drug mention, a small tidbit of arousal | Padawan is of age !

author notes: so today turned into a really bad day and so I took my anger out on writing I guess. Hope ya’ll enjoy it! We all need a maul to rescue us from some shit. This is my first time writing for maul so please be nice 🥺 I’m still second-guessing myself on posting this...😅

“(Y/n) go back to your quarters. I’m done dealing with your subpar technique.” your master ordered, whipping your lightsaber toward you.

Falling to your knees, lips quivering you didn’t even dare to look at your master. “I’m sorry master...please. Please forgive me. One more chance?” you begged.

“Absolutely not! You don’t even deserve the rank as my padawan (y/n), and yet here you are before me. Look how pathetic you are, is this how you’ll be on the battlefield when you lose? Get out of my sight.”

Burning hot with shame as you failed his assessment on formation, though it was something you studied to no end, you still managed to screw it up. Tears streamed down your face as you sat in the dirt, his words cutting into you like a vibroblade. You couldn’t fathom how out of all the Jedi in the temple you ended up with Master Feles. As you were growing up, you had hoped to begin your training with Master Plo Koon, Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi, or even Master Yoda. At least they were kind to you, but it never worked like that no. Feles sensed much strength within you and thus convinced the council to let him train you. But why? He acted as he cared for you but as soon as you slipped up, harsh words were thrown at you and sometimes even his fists. Master Feles was so full of rage, hate, his aura throwing off uncertain vibes within your instincts.

Alas, there wasn’t anything you could do, you’ve been his padawan for many years and put up with his barbarous treatment. It’s not like the other Jedi masters would believe it though, Feles had them wrapped around his finger. The only time they ended up being skeptical of his teachings was when he ended up losing a battle against the separatist droids, blaming it on you for slowing him down. The result was a quick strike from his lightsaber against your back when you turned to check on one of your downed troopers.

Taking a deep breath, you grab your lightsaber that was thrown into the dirt and wipe it off with your robes. Clipping it to your belt, you scan the area quickly before heading toward the corridor leading to the back entrance of the Jedi temple. It would be hard to dodge any Knights or Masters walking the hallways but it was worth it. You needed to leave and clear your mind, to pretend you weren’t even a padawan for just a night. As you approach a long staircase, two knights head in your direction walking in unison. Swiftly you tuck yourself behind a statue attempting to silence your mind so your presence isn’t detected.

Several excruciating moments later, they pass too absorbed in their own discussion about who was to become a Master before the other. Hesitantly you make you way down the stairs scanning the lower level to see if anyone was lingering. It was well past curfew so luckily you didn’t run into anyone else on your journey to the back entrance. Stepping foot outside of the temple without having to carry out a mission or an errand felt so liberating. Heading down the vast staircase that led toward the city of Coruscant, you couldn’t help but launch into a sprint. The freedom lured you out encouraging you to detach from the order you once followed so closely. Pulling your hood over your head to mask your identity somewhat, you saunter the lively streets of Galactic City. No one even bothers to pay you any mind which eased the anxiety that whirled around in your gut.

The only unfortunate part about this planet was there weren’t many places to just sit down and rest. Everyone was always in such a hurry that sitting down to take in the sights around never came to mind to these citizens. Nearing a dark alley, you round the corner finding it empty, where it was less likely for anyone to want to bother you. Sitting on the duracrete sent a shiver up your spine, it was nothing like the plush pillows you knelt on in the temple but it would have to do. Head against the building made of durasteel, you glance up barely able to make out the stars as the lights of Coruscant hid them.

Out of the corner of your eye, were two gentlemen also hooded part taking in some dubious acts. At first, they hadn’t realized you, though once they did they strutted over, grins flustered on their face.

“What’s a pretty face doing out here all by her lonesome?” the one snickered.

“Seems like she needs some protecting, whaddya think Ander?” the second snickered.

“Well, seems like you just witnessed something you weren’t supposed to. Only way out of it is either pay up and buy some death sticks off me, or you come with us. I much rather the second option. We’re both a good amount of fun.” Ander elbowed his friend playfully, eyes narrowing at you as they both erupted into a fit of laughter.

“I didn’t see anything...I-I promise. Please just leave me alone.” you pleaded. Of course, you didn’t want to make a scene and it was against the code to use your power in any type of personal gain. As much as you wanted to detach from the ways of the Jedi you simply couldn’t abandon the belief system that taught you so much.

“See, we can’t take your word for it sweetheart, so you’re going to have to come with us.” the second unnamed counterpart was a Trandoshan, a species you’re familiar with for being quite aggressive.

The Trandoshan had his digits gripped onto your jaw, staring into your eyes as Ander prattled on probably due to the effects of the death sticks.

“Get your kriffing hands off me!” rage engulfed you, causing you to use the force against the two.

Shocked by the sudden revelation, the men couldn’t scurry out fast enough, fearing for their lives. A sigh of relief escaped your lips only to be sucked back in at the sound of another voice.

“It seems like you’re very strong with the force hmm?” his voice was honeyed, though it sent a shudder down your back at the deep sound.

“I guess..not really though,” you mumbled. “I shouldn’t have done what I just did.” guilt beginning to consume you as you just let anger take over.

“And why do you say that? Because you used your gift simply to protect yourself?”

“It’s not the Jedi way…” trailing off you kneel down before the stranger, assuming he was a Master as it was hard to make out his robes due to the lighting but he spoke in a way that suggested so. “You know that…”

A deep chuckle was released, “I am no Jedi. I was trained in the ways of the force yes, but was never a Jedi.”

The rush of fear soon rested inside you as you realized before you was a sith. Was it the one the Jedi have been looking for? The sith lord? “You’re a sith! You’re the one everyone has been looking for!” you hissed.

Walking closer, the faint light showed bits of his face which was red intertwined with black ink, his eyes a honey-like color that was surrounded by a crimson ring. “My darling, you may think I am evil. I am not. I am efficient. I was apprentice to the most powerful being in the galaxy once. I was destined to become so much more. But I was robbed of that destiny by the Jedi, by Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Moving even closer to you, he too knelt down in front of you, inches away from your face eyes locked. “My name is Maul. I no longer have any attachment to the sith. I’m purely on my own.”

Blinking, you try to figure out how Master Kenobi played in this though that wasn’t something that concerned you too much. What did was the fact this stranger and force wielder is mere inches away from your face, intrigued with you. “So what do you want with me…? It’s clear you want something.” you faltered.

“Passing by, I heard your thoughts. The white noise they emitted that distracted me and lured me in out of pure curiosity. Then,” he paused, licking his lips “Then I saw the power you possess deep inside of you. A power only I am able to help you achieve. But I also feel your strong hatred toward something. Perhaps..someone?” a smirk emerged as he noticed you beginning to go wide-eyed

Putting your head down, you realized you needed to silence your thoughts and feelings as they were clearly becoming very loud for any force user to sense them. Suddenly your jaw was grabbed but the touch was oh so tender, so light as he brought your eyes back to his. As horrifying as this experience was, there was something about him that made you question his true intentions. His eyes seemed to be telling the truth even if his words seemed off, but you can see the pain within them.

At the sight of you, his hearts began to thud, something about you was driving this zabrak insane. Could it be the power? The drive? Or was it something else so unfamiliar to the zabrak that made him almost feral with just the scent of you lingering in his nostrils. Callused fingertips still touching your soft skin, he closed his eyes trying to read you even further and to give you a chance to consider his words.

“I may have some doubts, but that doesn’t mean I want to leave nor join someone like you!” fear creeping into your voice. As much as you hated your master, how could you leave the only home you know, especially with Maul? A stranger you have no knowledge of, except that Master Kenobi had dealt with him at one point.

Pulling away, he turned his head and rose to his feet. “Very well. I won’t force you to make this decision. If you cannot see your true potential and want to continue enduring the mistreatment from your Master, so be it.” his once smooth voice, now harsh, full of rage.

Him knowing what your master has done was enough to make you fall back in surprise. The sincerity in his voice was convincing, but ultimately there wasn’t much to lose. At this point, it felt great to be away from the temple, and the thought of never seeing Feles again was a bonus. Quickly you leap to your feet, reaching out to grab his forearm. Even though you couldn’t see it a grin enveloped his features. Turning around, this time he leaned in closer, forehead brushing against yours, eyes searching yours.

“I-I’ll take your offer. Let me join you..and get me far away from here as possible. Help me discover my inner power you see.” you urged desperately. You were almost breathless with how close he was, but not out of fear this time, no it was something else. Something about him was drawing you in, the way he touched you, the way he looked into your eyes, it all just sent a new sensation into your depths. Even if your body never experienced this before it wanted more, it craved it, judging by Maul’s facial expressions he sensed it too, and he liked it.

“Good…” he trailed off, his grin still present on his face. “I will help you. Help you discover it all and so much more. You will never regret this encounter and joining me by my side. I promise you that.” His pupils were dilated and his breathing was ragged. A gentle hand moving a stray hair off your face, gaze still fixated like a predator stalking its prey.

Whether or not this was a good idea didn’t matter anymore. The Jedi didn’t matter anymore, nor did your attachment to the code itself, what you wanted now was him. The infatuation was too strong to ignore and swallowed you whole, making you it’s victim though you weren’t the only one falling for its trap.

#darth maul #star wars #the clone wars #maul #maul x reader #darth maul x reader #darth maul angst #star wars x reader #padawan

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dinrenan · 4 years ago

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Explaining my characters. Dinrenan and Dirthrenan

This is basically why my character gets called Jules instead of Dinrenan, and why Dirthrenan took it instead. This explains how and when she gets adopted because that is when the whole name-changing started. I hope this helps to understand!

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Name meanings:

Dinrenan: Din(death)renan (voice) I translated as Voice of the dead or Dead's voice - I prefer the first

Dirthrenan: Dirth(used for knowledge or secrets)renan(voice) I translated as Voice of secrets or Secret's voice.

Ashallen/Asha'len: I translated as Child Woman. Mother of Dirthrenan, Healer of clan Lavellan. Her family had always had the gift of magic but she doesn't know from what clan they came from.

Adahlin/ Adahl'lin: Tree's blood or Blood of the tree (am not sure). Father of Dirthrenan. Hunt Master of Clan Lavellan.

Amelan'lin (Mentioned): Blood of the guardian or Guardian's blood

Backstory/Info (If one can call it that) for the sisters

Dinrenan was the High priestess of Falon’din, she was but a child that people thought to be an adult thanks to an amulet she wore that held the Evanuris magic, an illusion in shorts, the "God" couldn't let the People think a child was given better treatment than them, she wears no Vallaslin for she wasn’t a slave but a precious child Falon'din wanted to keep near because of her voice, it soothed the man once the war came. She was called Priestess by the People because it was known for her to go around the Uthenera temples and sing to those who were going into Uthenera and those already asleep, they could hear her in the beyond and knew someone was there to watch over them, it gave them a sense of peace and comfort. Slaves were wary of her because whenever she was near, Falon'din wouldn’t be far away. When Falon’din's vanity made him sacrifice his people, she sang to them, hoping for their spirits to forgive and forget, in that moment she knew her beloved Master had gone too far, but he cared for her, to the child, that was enough to forgive.

She met the Dread wolf once, young and rebellious, dangerous her Master told her but the Wolf did not harm her, his men did, they tried to capture her before she could give the alarm, to them, she was but a noblewoman going to alert the whole temple of their presence, She knew how to shapeshift into a dragon, the Master wanted her to learn it, but in the moment of panic, she forgot everything, how to focus on herself and shape her form. The wolf took the temple, the Master had fled, there was no one to protect the child now. Many slaves told the wolf that if the High Priestess was to live, Falon'din wouldn't cease his search of her, the god was like a madman treasuring his vanity and jewel. The wolf had refused to put an end to someone's life only because they were used as a tool, his men did not agree and when the time came, the leader away on a mission, they forced her into Uthenera, she cried, pleaded even, her Master was coming for her after all, she had to be awake, they did not listen.

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When the World of Elvhenan fell and the magic with it, the illusion broke and she was a child again, sleeping in a tomb, silent and dark. Millennia later she was awake again, confused, in pain, but her memory was hazy, she started to sing and cry, she couldn't remember much, she had a Master, the one who treated her like his own child, then what was after? A rebellion of sorts maybe, some evil men looking down at her like she was the worse child on the planet....only, she wasn't a child? She could feel the presence of Spirits, but they were twisted, they did not harm her, her voice kept them enraptured. This is how a hunter found her, and from there, the rest is history.

Joining the clan- The Keeper knows

It had rained the day before and the soil was full of mud puddles when the hunting party came back, some of the hunters had caught hares and some even wolves and deers, one of them though, the hunt master, had no prey in his back but a little girl who didn't appear more than 7 years old with brown shoulder-length wavy hair, in his arms, she clung to the man's neck like she was afraid to look around. Keeper Deshanna asked her first, Dirthrenan, to go and bring some blankets and prepare a bed in the healer's tent. Once the order was given the girl sprinted towards the Healer's tent, not even giving a glance towards her father or the strange addiction in his arms. The keeper greeted the Hunters back she asked Adahl'lin where he found the girl and he seemed all too wary to answer.

"She was in the ruins in the north, Keeper, she was surrounded by demons and she was...singing to them...as soon as she noticed us the demons vanished and she started to talk, but she seems to not know any trade..."

The woman then put her gaze on the child's back and started to speak in Elven, although she found it difficult.

" Turn around, child, no one is going to hurt you"

The child sniffed once and turned her head around, that's when her greenish eyes met the beautiful sky blue of the keeper.

"The same the wolf said but then the Master was no more and everyone lied, so why would I believe you?"

The woman looked confused for a moment, what the child had told made no sense to her, but then she asked her name. The shock hit her like a wave once the name was out of the child's lips. Keeper Deshanna had heard of The High Priestess of Falon'din in the legend Keeper Amelan'lin told at the last Arlathvhen after his hunters found new ruins. He had told of the role the figure had in Ancient temples and Keeper Deshanna couldn't believe the child, the legend says it was a woman, but again, the legend could have been wrong.

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Keeper Deshanna had left the child with Asha'lin and her family, the girl showed ability in magic and bonded quickly with Dirthrenan, referring to her and Asha'lin as kin, Deshanna had yet to tell everyone the girl's name and wasn't sure on how to proceed, there were city elves among them who would certainly think of the girl as nothing more than a demon, she wasn't sure as to how even the other Dalish clans would react to such a thing.

When the time came to announce that the new girl was to be kept as a member of the clan Deshanna said that her real name was a mystery, so from then on, the clan could call her Jules, the girl was to answer only to that name.

To Dirthrenan that made no sense, so she chooses to apply the name to herself, fearing to forget it in the years to come, the Keeper always called her Dirthrenan but she refused to answer toward that name. Jules appreciated it and always made sure to keep her sister from danger.

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In the years to come, the name Jules was the name she always told people that met her, it was the name the clan gave her, although she refused to take the Vallaslin when she was ready for it, the clan was in dismay, she fought both in elven and trade, then explained in the Keeper's Aravel that she wasn't going to put a slave mark on herself, and then explained to Deshanna what really those tattoos were for. The pain in the Keeper's eyes told her it wasn't what she wanted to hear but understood her point of view, so suggested another option.

Dirthrenan was told to reach the Keeper's Aravel and once inside saw the ink that was used for the Vallaslins, only it was different. She was left alone with her sister, the Keeper had to go out and attend daily matters in the clan.

"So...why is this?"

"I refuse to take your sl-... Vallaslins, the Keeper understood and proposed you paint it on my face instead of....you know..."

Dirthrenan only smiled and shook her head, she didn't ask the reasoning, she took her Vallaslin just the day prior and did not want to know whatever trespassed between the two.

"Alright, so I just have to paint it on your face?" "Yes, it's the same ink you used yesterday, but instead of Dirthamen's...I wish for Falon'din's...the Ink has to be dried as soon as it settles and then I shall cast a spell that basically fixes it and stop it from fading for few months...can you do it?"

While Jules laid down and closed her eyes Dirthrenan took a thin paintbrush and started to work, when both girls exited the Aravel the whole clan was waiting, once seen the Vallaslin they clapped and hugged her, not knowing of the trick.

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I probably have burnt the keyboard. I really hope this made sense to you all! (Also sorry for the bad English)

#dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #Dragon age #Dinrenan Lavellan #Dirthrenan Lavellan

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