#asirel cain

[beccixxiluv]

I NEEDDDD to know pets backstory and what made them literally evil

[grapesrsogood]

Im bored so here is one head cannon for every character I’ve listened to ( ¯ □ ¯ )

~~~~~~~~~~

- Xanthus enjoys playing the piano for Love whilst they’re reading.

- Andrew can’t tell the difference between AI and real videos/images.

- Dontis decided to try out TikTok to attempt to “connect with the younger generations of human” and accidentally has an (extremely blurry and with an even more confused Dontis) image posted of himself with no tags and the song About Damn Time by Lizzo playing in the background.

- Issac secretly watches 40 min long cat videos before going to bed, he refuses to let anybody find out, but in his defense its only because if he didnt end the day with funny cat videos, the horrors of his job and responsibilities that weigh on him would cause him to not be able to sleep. He’s tried things like CBD and relaxants but its just made him more anxious at the thought of intruders. (Sorry about making this kinda sad i just love Issac and i ignore him way too much).

- Elias’s favourite colour was pink when he was younger, but he got weird looks from his dads colleagues when he wore it so he decided to lie and say his favourite colour was blue instead.

- Asirel has an issue with rolling his eyes, whenever somebody talks to him, he rolls his eyes, if somebody knocks on his door, he rolls his eyes, etc. It’s a huge problem that he’s had his whole life and he cant go a day without rolling his eyes.

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

No, i haven’t watched any of the others…

Im a very picky listener okay

Anyways, is this worth a taglist? Idk, pls let me know if you want to be tagged in things like this too or just the longer fics :3

@xxluneilaxxaus @penelopesbaby @claiestve

@onasvigo

[claiestve]

asirel needs to die.

[vionnette]

I just know that even after decades, Pet would still wear that ring.

[boxkitkat]

Hai crumpets! ( ´ ▽ ` )/ I haven’t posted in a hot minute and I’ve been wanting to but I’ve been kinda busy and no one asked for this but I just wanted to show my listeners and their (concept) designs! ♡(｡- ω -)

These are like a month or two old? (ーー;) kinda messy but these are just some of my listeners!٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

[15lungs]

"Your beauty never ever scared me."

but it's Asirel, who's more than fascinated by Pet, despite knowing about their raging jealousy and the cruel nature of a predator.

but it's Zaros, who's the only one that seems to keep up with and love Earis' every flaw which they developed while being raised to be the next ruler and nothing more.

but it's Keyson, who's cheering his overachieving partner on no matter what, knowing that he will never be able to fully understand what it's like to be that successful and clever.

[litmot-archived]

You Hurt Me

Asirel Cain x Reader

You execute your revenge.

Warnings: mentions of syringes and tranquillisers, past torture, abuse; the general tone of this is a bit darker than usual so proceed with caution

I Hurt You

The ordeal had been roughly two weeks ago. You bid your time. 

Asirel had looked at you with an apprehensive glance, cautious as you stumbled through the door of his study after being knocked out for a week. You had gone straight back to normal, grumbling something about being hungry and leading him to a false sense of security that his betrayal — because that was what it had been to you — could be glossed over like one of your quickly fading moods.

You could act when you wanted to, lounging on the couch that had been your prison, unwelcome memories of being paralyzed lurking on the edge of your mind while you leafed through a book disinterestedly, keeping him company as you had before. You kept testing him, riling him up enough until he scoffed and his eyes darkened while you ultimately succeeded in peeling him away from his desk, always mindful of that damned tranquilizer he kept in the right pocket of his suit jacket. 

You knew his tricks now. 

It had not taken long to figure out Asirel. Now you knew how far you could push, now you could pinpoint when teasing, toying turned to genuine concern on his part, fear as his hand twitched, restraining himself from plunging the needle into your heart again. 

He did not know that you knew, and you wanted to keep it that way. Ignorance was the best way to serve revenge, you supposed, and when an opportunity arose to execute your plan, you seized it with a grin he mistook for your usual playfulness. 

“Careful,” he rasped, hitting the mattress with a force that knocked the wind out of him. “I don’t know why I indulge you when there is a buffet at your disposal.”

You chuckled, moving to straddle his lap as you smirked. “You taste better,” you said, lips tightening in displeasure as he placed a hand on your chest, pushing you off. You let him, allowing Asirel to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and sit up.

“I think you enjoy feeling me writhe under you,” he replied, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt to expose his neck. 

Your mouth watered, leaning in before he could prepare himself and piercing his skin with your teeth. 

Asirel groaned, tensing under your touch immediately. His head spun at the familiar feeling of blood loss, but the force with which you were draining him was unlike anything he’d felt before. You were rough, sucking him dry as if you were starved. 

“Slow down,” he warned, his voice breathier than he would have liked. A feeling of weakness settled in his chest as he felt his strength bleed out of him. The pounding in his head intensified, and his stomach twisted in sudden nausea as his hands began to shake. “Pet!”

You did not care, continuing to feed as if you had not heard him. You could feel him shaking against you, his breathing getting more strained the more blood you took.

He thought you would drink up every last drop if he did not stop you. Placing a hand on your chest, he tried pushing you away — to get you to snap out of the frenzy he had thought you had slipped into — but of course, you did not budge. 

“Stop!” he said, pouring every morsel of strength into his voice. His usually so commanding tone sounded deflated even to his own ears, the refined cadence of his voice smeared in exhaustion. “Did you hear me? Stop it!”

The annoyance he felt flipped into fear. You could smell it on him, the moment he realized you were not going to stop, the moment he knew this was your idea of revenge for what he had done. You heard his breath hitch, his heartbeat surging suddenly. 

This time you were prepared. You felt his hands shift, reaching into his suit jacket. He seized the syringe, pulling it out in the blink of an eye and aiming for your heart. You caught his wrist easily, pinning him to the bed in one swift movement. 

“Fool me once, Asirel,” you said, flicking the hateful object out of his grip as he stared up at you with wide eyes. 

“I told you to stop,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. You could feel his entire frame shaking beneath you, his chest heaving as his heart pounded painfully. 

You sneered. “I told you not to overdo it. I told you it hurt. Did that make you stop?”

He panted, squirming fruitlessly to get out of your hold. “Get off,” he said. “Pet, stop it.”

“Come on, Asirel,” you cooed, a self-satisfied grin on your face that widened as you heard his heart skip a beat, the smell of his fear intensifying as he submerged in his panic. “This does not work if you do not trust me. Don’t you remember?” 

You sunk your teeth into his neck again. You knew you were overindulging, but the startled noise of surprise and pain escaping him as he suffered — like you had at his hands — went to your head in a mixture of satisfaction and anger. 

“Did you think you’d get away with drugging me up like that, Master?” you mocked, the title rolling off your tongue laced in venom. “You think you can go ahead and do what they did because you fooled me into trusting you? Do you think I’m stupid? At least they knew to keep me weak so I could not rip out their hearts, but you—” You sunk your teeth into his neck again to corroborate your point. 

Asirel jolted, his breath coming in short heaves as his heart pounded against his ribcage vigorously. He was afraid, terrified as he fought against your relentless grip. “Stop, stop,” he croaked. You pretended not to notice the wetness in his voice. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Pet. Stop!”

You raised your head, his blood staining your teeth as you looked into his wide eyes, trails of tears rolling down the side of his face. He looked a mess, bloodied, terrified as he was helpless against the force that pinned him in place — helpless against you.

You sneered, the feeling all too familiar. “What? Are you begging me now?” you mocked, a sick twist of contentment filling you as you saw his eyes water again. “‘I’m sorry’ won’t cut it here.”

He looked at you for a long moment. His heart surged again, and you knew he was about to try something new. “Hel—!”

“Stop breathing.” 

His scream died in his throat immediately, the shock of your compulsion tearing through him like a lightning strike. Asirel looked at you, his face ashen, lips parted with an expression of utter heartbreaking betrayal.

It made you pause, reconsidering your method of fighting fire with fire.

He slipped out of your grasp, his hands darting to his throat immediately as his chest spasmed, desperately trying to take a breath that was denied him. 

Your words had a chokehold on him, but as you saw the person who had saved you — betrayed you, yes, but also taken you out of that hellhole — fed you, the same person who threaded his delicate fingers through your hair when you rested your head on his lap or nuzzled your face against his neck, the person who had to suppress a fond smile every time you slipped into bed next to him in the middle of the night, squirm in agony beneath you, horrified, certain he was going to die because you willed it, you felt a black mass of disappointment, grief and shame rise in your chest. 

The game was over. You had no intention of playing anymore. 

Asirel rolled onto his side with a deep gasp, sputtering coughs as his vision slowly cleared from the black spots clouding it. He had a death grip on the bed sheets, his whole body shaking with the force of his heaving breaths. 

You had slid off the bed, resting your back against the bedpost while you sat on the floor, dejection hanging over you like a cloud. You could hear his heart still rattling in his ribcage, but it was gradually slowing from the height of his panic. The syringe had rolled to the other side of the room, mocking you with its presence. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, his voice airily light. You turned your head, meeting Asirel’s eyes. They were carefully blank as if he had not decided exactly how to feel about what had just passed between you. 

“Are you okay?” you asked slowly. 

He glared. “Take a guess.”

You hummed, hesitating to break the silence between you despite the words you were painfully dragging to the surface. They rested on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill out if you dared to open your mouth. 

Asirel sat up slowly, swaying a little as he did. His hand shot out to steady himself, and you reached up to wrap an arm around his waist to keep him upright. He froze, but the words of dismissal never passed his lips. 

You spoke. “When I was with them — the traders. I— they work together with other organizations sometimes. They like to earn a few extra bucks in rentals, turning us over to people running tests, experimenting to develop new weapons for the hunters, or simply to get a kick out of torturing us. I’m not sure. 

“They— well, I know those types of people very, very well and when you drug me — when you ram that needle into me and my muscles go slack and I can’t fucking move — I feel cold metal beneath me, and straps around my chest and limbs, digging into my skin, and— and I’m back with them, anticipating pain any moment when they would try something new to hurt me while I lay there powerless and vulnerable, and I just can’t take it, Asirel. I can’t!”

You blinked away the tears gathering in your eyes. You did not see Asirel’s gaze soften, but you felt his hand reaching down hesitatingly, his fingers burying themselves in your hair, playing with the strands in a silent offer of comfort. 

He knew there were things you had not told him. The scars littering your body spoke of the trauma he only now began understanding the scope of. 

“When you take my blood,” he began, confessing weaknesses of his own, “I feel— it makes my head spin and I feel my life draining away. There was— Once I nearly bled out, a long time ago, but I still remember the feeling and the cold. I hate letting you feed off of me, but I try to indulge you sometimes. But when you don’t stop, my mind goes blank in panic like I’m a little child again, bleeding out in his father’s arms. 

“It’s why I’m quick to use the tranquilizer,” he said. 

You nodded, scooting closer to rest your cheek against his thigh. “Will you throw it away if I promise I’ll stop when you tell me?”

Asirel considered it for a moment, biting his lips in uncertainty. “After this—” he trailed off.

“I’m sorry I deceived you,” you said, absentmindedly tracing shapes against his skin. “And I’m sorry about, well, all of it.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry, too,” he said, sighing deeply. “How about a new start? Do you still trust me?” 

“Yeah.”

“Alright. I do, too, against all odds. I’ll throw it out.”

You looked up at him, the determination in his eyes mirroring the honesty in yours. “Thank you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his middle.

The trauma would take a long time to work through, but with Asirel’s arms coming up around you as well, squeezing you tightly against him, you had a feeling the scars of your past might stop stinging quite so much.

“I promise, I’ll keep my word.”

[ryn-halo26]

Master & Pet

Hehehehehe

[soscarlett1twas]

Third Time's The Charm

↳ At Vic’s funeral, Asirel reunites with an old “friend.” ↳ 1k words

It had been a closed casket, with little use to Asirel. He had seen the photos: a body in tatters, blackened first by blood, then from infection by wounds left untreated. An eye was missing. So was the hair. Only the shape of a nose, and the left half of the lips, made the body identifiable to him immediately. A countenance he knew far too well. 

Asirel knew that body wasn’t beneath the lid. The real one was cremated. He was the one that scattered the ashes. Still, he felt it, as if it clawed at the wood; begging for release – taunting him, as its owner so often had. Asirel, he could hear those lips croon. I didn’t take you for a mourner.

He wasn’t. Death’s miasma, for the first time since Fresno, clouded his mind.

Asirel took a watch from his pocket. It had been a gift from Vic, and something he couldn’t stomach feel weighing on his wrist anymore. The large hand clicked just past ten. 

He slipped it away and sat back down in the front row of chairs, closest to the coffin. Only the buzz of a distant city filled the air. He rested his head in his hands, fingers threading through his hair that seemed to bleed gray from the roots. Everyone else was gone.

Or, so he thought. 

The smell of smoke was so faint he thought he was imagining it. He often did; whenever he thought back to Fresno, at least. Tara’s habits had frustrated him, but the ash was nostalgic. It reminded him of simpler times, of casinos and Quetza. Of the seven of diamonds she slipped him at his own father’s funeral, not too dissimilar to Vic’s.

Have a nice day, she had said.

Boots smushed the wet grass underfoot as the smoker approached. He dropped the cigarette and stubbed it out with his heel. “Room for one more,” the man asked as he sat beside him. Asirel said nothing. Through his fingers he spotted the stub in the grass. 

A minute passed, the two beside each other. Asirel composed himself, sitting at attention with a stern expression which his red-lined eyes betrayed. It wasn’t until his gaze left the cigarette and faced forward – towards the coffin – that the other opened his mouth. 

“It’s been a while, Asirel.”

“Likewise, James.”

The Wraith’s second-hand hadn’t changed a bit in the last decade. His face remained inscrutable, watching the coffin as Asirel did. Lines framed his mouth and brow, and his hand flexed against his knee. A pearlescent scar shone across his knuckles. He adjusted himself, throwing one leg over the other. 

“Shit,” he muttered, “who’d think he’d be gone before us?”

Asirel huffed. “No one.” 

James offered a box of Marlboros, and Asirel took one. It had been Vic’s preferred brand. He did himself the favor of lighting it. 

“How’ve you been?” 

Asirel took a drag. “Better. Though I am a bit offended. Where is Warden? Was it the decor?” Vic would’ve laughed. 

All James gave him was a huff. “Still not keen on you.”

“Oh, you flatter me.” 

Him, James, and Warden. An odd group to be left with, for sure – left in the wake of spectres who loomed larger than them, whether she a colleague or sister or wife. It was easy, for Asirel, to forget the impact of the Rhoades’ deaths. They were collateral. It was Isaac that pulled his heartstrings. But their deaths were written all over James’ face, parallel lines to Tara’s. 

As if he could read his mind, James opened his mouth. “I saw you speaking to Isaac,” he said. “How is he?” A beat. “He’s doing well.” 

He visibly relaxed. “Good. Good. Is it true he has a partner now?” 

Asirel stiffened, unsure of how to speak of him around James. 

“Please, Asirel.” He didn’t expect the pleading in his voice. “I was his godfather.”

Any other time he would’ve relished in this, but Vic’s gore appeared in his mind. He could find no pleasure in tormenting the man he cared so much about, not right now. Not when so many other ghosts surrounded him. Surrounded them.

“He does,” Asirel admitted. “I don’t know much. He keeps those spheres separate. But he has company now.”

James smiled. 

And they went on. Asirel shared stories of Isaac, of Vic and Isaac – how the older man would return to him with a glimmer in his eye and, in spite of Asirel’s urgency for information, go on and on about how well Isaac was doing. The day Vic discovered the mysterious lover? He barely made it to the car before calling him, shouting into the receiver. 

James spoke of earlier moments. Of memories that Isaac was too young at the time to remember. Dinners, botanical gardens, an amusement park, once. Conversation of Isaac shifted to Sawyer and Sahoko. Vic remained the thoroughfare for every story, the shadow on the wall of their lives. James kept turning to face the coffin, as if still speaking to Vic, including him in the joke. They were acting as if he was still with them. It was easier to talk as if he was.

When Asirel laughed, he felt his heart weighing heavy in his chest. 

Eventually, the sun fell, casting the scene in a shifting golden hue. Asirel called his driver and began to walk James back to where he parked his motorcycle. For all their talk of Isaac, they hadn’t forgotten the other young boy, but Asirel hadn’t wanted to interrupt with work. Tara loved leaving him with unfinished business. The bitch. He smiled at the thought.

Asirel stopped walking, and James glanced at him as he pulled out his key. 

“Do me a favor.” From a hidden pocket, Asirel pulled a playing card out of his suit jacket. He turned and folded it into the other’s hand. 

James looked down. A seven of diamonds. He raised an eyebrow. 

“A gift I never got to repay her,” he explained, making dead-on eye contact with the Wraith. “Give it to Elias.” 

A moment passed as James scrutinized it, trying to decode whatever message it carried. Finally: “why?” 

Asirel flicked his long-burned cigarette away, ignoring the question. “Tell him I say ‘have a nice day.’” 

This was the Whatever Yama Says Goes epilogue. I'm sorry for never delivering: it was my fault for dragging it out for so long, but my exhaustion from working on the project (in tandem with my waning interest in the Sakuverse as whole) made it miserable to write.

Still, I posted this because I wanted to share even a fraction of that work with you all. If y'all want, I'll post an explanation of my theories and head canons that were to be in the fic. For example, the two most relevant to this chapter was Tara being a part of the Collective and the Mao-based ritual to initiate members into the organization.

(Mao is a card game where the only way to learn how to play is by playing. The only rule you're allowed to tell others is that you can't explain the rules. Thus, I won't elaborate on the references, except that Asirel telling James to give Elias the card and to tell him "have a nice day" was Asirel's way of giving Tara's seat in the Collective to Elias.)

There’s also the strong possibility this will be my last fic. I won’t say for sure, but it’s like… 99% chance. 99.9%, even. I loved this fandom, but unfortunately, it’s simply not for me anymore <3

[wildflowerblurbs]

Late Night Negotiation | Asirel Cain

Asirel Cain x GN! Reader

CW: slightly suggestive at the end, asirel's usual dynamic with the listener, dependent behavior

A/N: don't mind me, just clearing out my drafts.

-

When Asirel had first referred to you as “pet,” he’d done so emphasizing the fact that you now belonged to him but, although he knew that you were motivated by your need to be wanted, he never expected this. 

You were settled on the floor next to him while he sat at his desk, resting your head on his thigh as if it were the most common daily occurrence. You’d walked into his office with not so much as a knock or warning, something he’d punish others for doing but his quick acceptance of your actions made him realize that he may have spoiled you a little too much. He said nothing as you sat down on the floor and maneuvered his chair to give you the necessary room beside him. He felt you sigh in contentment as soon as you were comfortable and he couldn’t quite find any words to comment on your behavior for a good while.

It’s not like you’d caused a big scene or were trying to get his attention. You’d taken the precaution to stay quiet and seemed to just be happy in his presence. He wasn’t sure if it was the endearing nature of your actions or his newfound instinct to return your acts of affection but it was of his own volition that he’d reached down to stroke your hair while he completed his work. 

To anyone else witnessing this, this would seem laughable and insane. Here you were, a creature so dangerous you could wipe out his entire estate without so much as a scrape to your own body yet choosing to simply lounge by his side like a house cat.

“And to what do I owe this warm and sudden visit, pet?” His voice finally broke the comfortable silence you’d created, his curiosity finally outweighing the importance of the work in front of him.

“…You said you were going to visit me today but you never showed up.” 

Upon hearing your words, he quickly looked over at the clock on his desk and realized it was already past midnight, six hours past the time he’d promised to have dinner with you the night before. He was so caught up analyzing the intel he’d received earlier that day that he’d completely lost track of time and broken his promise to you in the process. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy sigh before pushing the chair back and motioning for you to come up and sit on his lap. Despite the disappointment and slight annoyance you felt when he essentially stood you up a few hours ago, you quickly obliged him, wasting no time in settling in and resting your cheek on his shoulder. 

“I apologize, pet. I’ll have my dinner schedule cleared tomorrow so I can make it up to you. How does that sound?” 

You noticed that his voice carried a hint of regret at his actions. He wasn’t a gentle man by any means, but he did take responsibility when he did something wrong. It was times like these you were grateful that you chose to go with him the day he’d come to “adopt” you. He was someone you could depend on. 

“I want to stay with you tonight too,” you requested, knowing that he was more likely to accept now than any other time. 

His eyebrow raised at this request, the edges of his mouth seeming to fight off a smile. “Are you negotiating with me right now? It seems you’ve picked up a few things from me as of late.”

You don’t bother lifting your head from where it’s resting, opting to stay put as you fidget with the collar of his shirt and answer him, “I am simply asking my gracious master to grant me a wish to make me feel better after abandoning me.”

“I did not abandon you.” 

“It sure seemed like you did.” 

Ah, so that was the game you were playing, he thought to himself.

“Fine,” he relents while getting up from his chair, picking you up in the process and leading you towards his bedroom. “As your gracious master, I’ll grant you a space in my bed tonight.” 

Before you can silently cheer the success of your plan, Asirel leans in close to your face and you can see unclear intent in his eyes, “But I will be the one to decide how we spend our night.” 

[beccixxiluv]

We miss you old Asirel, you were fine asf 💔.

[grapesrsogood]

Asirel: “i keep Pet around because they intimidate my coworkers and rivals, people are mush less eager to go against me or do something that i don’t approve of if i have a vampire by my side.”

Issac: “interesting, Pet is still safe to be around though? Pickle will be okay, right?”

Asirel: “well, it depends. Pet is unpredictable but usually stays peaceful around people that are friendly to them. But i can’t say for sure.”

Issac: starting to become nervous, knowing Asirel is probably exaggerating it but still worrying for Pickle “… maybe we should check on them.”

Issac: opening the door to the room

Jump up superstar playing on full volume from a just dance video, Pickle not noticing and Pet simply not caring.

Asirel: staring at the pair inelegantly flailing around in an attempt to match the commands “Pet is usually more…-“

Issac: not impressed “intimidating, didnt you say?”

Asirel: clears throat and walks back out into the hallway “moving on.”

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

I KNOW

I know that i mentioned them doing just dance but it was too good to not write a teeeeensy scenario for it

This is all i have time for at the moment but hopefully into January there will be more opportunity :3

TAGLIST

@penelopesbaby @claiestve @onasvigo @xxluneilaxxaus

[claiestve]

ꨄ sakuverse tweets ! pt. 5 :

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

well hello pickle

[boxkitkat]

Okay guys! (*°▽°*) Does anyone have any suspicions of what Asirels ethnicity or ancestry background might be? (・・ ) ? I’ve been studying his photo and I cannot tell, of course skin doesn’t equal to ethnicity still but some suggestions would help! (＞﹏＜)

[litmot-archived]

I Hurt You

Asirel Cain x Reader

Asirel's curiosity costs you dearly.

Warnings: tranquillisers, syringes

Asirel was a curious person by nature. He longed to understand things to their very core, and vampires were such a fascinating mystery that he could not help himself but venture down a path of a little experimentation when he stumbled on a gem of information. 

Why you cranked your nose at the clear, faintly blue substance in his vial he did not know, but he wanted to find out. 

“Do you recognize the scent?” he asked, rummaging through the cupboard on the far end of the study and pulling out a sealed syringe. 

You eyed him wearily, sharp eyes following his every move. You could smell the curiosity on him, the wonder of how you would react to what you knew was a strong tranquilizer that would leave your mind hazy and limbs aching for the next week. It had not been designed to be pleasant, and despite your body being locked in paralysis, it had no numbing effect. 

Asirel turned towards you, syringe in hand, and you suppressed the urge to tackle him to the ground right there, tear the hateful object out of his grasp, and curse him for entertaining the idea of running his little experiments on you. 

You glared at him as he tipped the vial, filling the syringe with an amount that could knock you out for a year. 

“Are you serious?” you asked, hiding the shaking in your voice. You did not want to do this. You did not want to have that thing piercing you, a foreign substance cursing through your body that would hurt, simply for him to catalog it in one of his little notebooks. “What do you think you’re doing with that, Asirel?”

He tilted his head, a little annoyed at your protest. “Come on,” he said, clearing the siring of air. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Only a little. I want to know how this refined formula works.”

Oh, refined, was it?

You caught his wrist, looking up at him from your spot on the couch with a dark warning in your eyes. “Don’t,” you said, watching his jaw set.

“This does not work if you do not trust me,” he said, echoing the words he had told you months ago, when you had been caged behind bars, aftereffects of the very thing in his hands turning every breath into a painful nightmare. 

You were thankful to be free, well, as free as you were now. Asirel was good company most of the time. He kept you fed. He kept you entertained. The thought had occurred to you long ago, that you did not want to leave. You were comfortable here, the happiest you had been in a long while as this cautious work relationship between you both branched off into something more occasionally. 

You did not want to lose him over this. You did not want to disappoint him or give him the wrong impression because you did trust him — as hard as that was admitting to yourself. 

You trusted Asirel. 

“Fine,” you muttered, leaning back against the backrest and glancing towards the ceiling briefly before your gaze fixed on him again. You held out your arm, tugging up your sleeve. “Don’t overdo it.”

He took hold of your wrist, and your gaze found the ceiling again as you felt the wet cotton wiping down the crook of your arm. The piercing needle cut through it a moment later. 

You felt the tranquilizer immediately, scorching through your body like a liquid flame. You clenched your hand into a fist, fighting every instinct to pull away as you gasped. 

“How are you feeling?” you heard Asirel ask, his voice crystal clear, cutting through the rushing of blood you heard in your ears. Three minutes. You had about three minutes before it would pull you under, and knock you out for about twenty minutes. 

“On fire,” you told him truthfully, turning your head to look at him. You were not deluded enough to mistake the concentrated look on his face for concern — he was curious. “Burning. Feels like fire is eating me up, pulling me under.”

He nodded to himself, and to your horror, pushed the plunger further down. “Did the heat intensify?”

“Hurts,” you breathed, squirming in pain as the fire shot through you with renewed vigor. “Hurts, hurts.” A minute left now maybe. 

Asiel frowned. “Did you hear me?” he asked, leaning closer until your painfulled eyes fixed on him again, vision swimming. “Did the heat intensify?” 

You groaned, the low sound turning into a scream as you felt the fire licking at you again. Below the rushing of your own blood, and the static pulling taut around you, you thought you heard a surge in Asirel’s heartbeat. 

You were not sure if the panicked “Pet!” cutting through the room came from your imagination, or if Asirel realized he had pushed too far. Distantly, you realized the syringe was no longer buried in your skin. Distantly, you realized your hand had shot out to grip the little coffee table beside the couch. 

Distantly, you realized you had flung it at Asirel, successfully getting him to back off. 

You did not see his eyes widen, but you thought you heard his heart skip a beat again as he saw it approach.

He hissed in pain, the sound piercing through your haze as you realized you had hurt him. The thought did not sting. He had hurt you as well, the fire coursing through you turned into a haze of feeling that was only kept at bay by the rage his betrayal evoked in you. 

Blindly, you reached out a hand towards him, realizing you had gripped his throat only after you felt the fluttering beating of his heart under the pads of your fingers. He gasped, but you did not have time to take in the distinct scent of fear, nor wonder if your instincts followed the right course of action, before he smashed a needle into your heart, emptying the tranquilizer in an instant. 

Your grip loosened as your body went limp immediately. With your last conscious thought, you wondered how long the mixture would keep you under the surface. A day? A month? A year? 

Asirel gasped, cradling his throat as he looked down at your limp form, pretending he did not hear the strangled whimper of terror slipping past your throat, pretending he did not see the single tear leaking from your eye as the chemicals pulled you under. 

You Hurt Me

[boiledmang0s]

I wanted to draw @alliyah-ll pet ever sense I saw them the first time and I finally got around to drawing them. I hope I did them justice 😭

I hope you don’t mind me drawing them!