#and that you have the most wonderful birthday

[silveredspoons]

Where Is Your Boy Tonight?

SUMMARY: Art loved Tashi. Art would do anything for Tashi. That includes leaving you alone on your birthday because she needed him. Luckily for you, you have his best friend and a bottle of champagne stashed under your dorm bed.

Patrick Zweig x Reader

3.6k

WARNINGS: P in V Sex, Fingering, Infidelity, Cheating, MDNI

You knew when you started dating Art Donaldson that you weren’t going to be his number one. Hell, you weren’t even top three, but you thought that he could at least spend one night pretending that you were somewhat important to him. That’s harsh. He did love you, just not as much as he loved Tashi, or Tennis or even Patrick.

That’s how you found yourself alone on your birthday, slightly tipsy from the drinks you had previously at the bar with your friends (drinks that Art was meant to attend but had never showed up to). You were trying to wrangle the heels strapped to your feet off and toss them across your single dorm room, but maybe it was the alcohol, or more likely the fury of being abandoned on your fucking birthday, but the tiny buckles would not budge. You could only let out a frustrated groan and throw yourself backwards on your single bed, giving up on the removal of your clothes.

You really shouldn’t be as mad you as you were, you had full expectations that something would come up that would distract Art. It was more maddening that he hadn’t even acknowledge you today at all, no happy birthday message, no sorry I can’t make it text, not even flowers delivered to your door. A better woman would probably leave him, realise that being fourth in someone’s life isn’t what they deserve and move on with their life. You were not a better woman, not yet at least, you were still young. Still making mistakes and choosing to stay with a guy who doesn’t truly love you.

You weren’t desperate. There were good things about being with Art as well, like when you guys would fuck in his dorm, and he’d hold your face in his hands and brush the hair off of your face and kiss your forehead. Or, when he would surprise you after class with coffee, a snack and the kindest eyes you had ever seen. He was kind when he wanted to be, and he gave you affection that you hadn’t received before. It was just frustrating that, that affection was only available to you when he couldn’t have Tashi. All she would have to do is look in his direction and he’d go running over to her, you could only assume that she was the one who had stolen his attention today. Usually, you could forgive her for it, it’s not her fault that your boyfriend was in love with her, but surely, she could have given you just this one day.

It was during this pity party you heard the knock on your door. Hard, quick and loud you could tell who it was before even opening the decorated door. You couldn’t help but let a small smile creep up on your face and you rolled yourself off of your bed and stumbled to answer the knocking that had yet to stop.

“You know most people text when they’re coming over” you smiled as you pulled the door open, Patrick's smug face staring back at you from where he leaned against the door frame.

“And where is the fun in that? It’s supposed to be a surprise.” You didn’t even get the chance to properly respond before Patrick had snagged you into his arms and held you close. You were sure that you smelt of vodka (which you had licked off your body by a stranger earlier that night in a wild moment of freedom) but that was nothing compared to the smell of beer radiating off of Patrick.

You groaned as you tried to escape his hold. It wasn’t unusual for you and Patrick to find yourselves alone together, despite both of you dating others it wasn’t unseen by the two of you how they usually left the two of you to talk. Which is probably why you had a tipsy Patrick at your door.

“Where are the wonder twins?” You questioned, once finally free from his grip. Patrick snorted as he threw himself onto your bed, leaving you to shut the door behind him and crawl into the small available space he had left on the bed.

“Talking tennis of course. Apparently, it’s very important that they spend the rest of the night going over Art’s new life as a lap dog.” You snorted in turn at Patrick's cruel remark, you wouldn’t usually laugh at him teasing Art but tonight you were pissed and didn’t really care about his feelings.

“I see, and that means you are shunned to the doghouse?” You joked. Patrick rolled his eyes, and he moved his body over to allow you more space on the bed, which you took greedily. The two of you laid next to each other, you bare knee brushing against his thigh as his head was laid next to your chest. You rested on your arm to look down at him and couldn’t help but frown at the crestfallen look he had on his face. You had chosen to be fourth in Art’s life, Patrick didn’t. Without thinking you reached your unoccupied hand down to his face to brush the slightly damp curls out of his face.

“Wanna drink?” You asked, quick to change the subject away from the neglect the two of you had faced.

“God yes.” Patrick moaned and you laughed before you reached down under you bed and grabbed the bottle of champagne that had been stashed there this morning. A gift from a friend, the card still attached to the neck of the bottle. It wasn’t expensive of course, which college student can afford good champagne? But it would get the job done.

“Happy birthday, hope this helps you get screwed?” Patrick read out, clutching the card that came with the bottle, eyebrows raised as he looked up at you. You couldn’t help the blush that spread across your chest, and you snatched it from his hands and thrown it across the room. The joke your friend had written quickly becoming unfunny when coming from Patrick’s mouth.

“When was your birthday?” Patrick questioned as you moved on to opening the bottle, hands clasped around the neck and thumbs pushing the cork to loosen it. You looked into his eyes and felt the blush only grow higher as you realised his eyes were trained on your hands. Hands that held the bottle much like you would hold a certain appendage. You looked away, eyes trained onto the alarm clock on your bed side table, bright red number reading ten past midnight.

“’About ten minutes ago” you muttered, hand gripping the top of the cork and pulling it off with a flourish. You barely had a chance to react the bubbles overflowing over the top before Patrick's lips were wrapped around the opening and sucking down the spillage. You shivered as you watched his tongue dart around the neck of the bottle, briefly touching your fingers before he pulled away in shock.

“Wait what? It’s your birthday?” Patrick moved into a sitting up position on the bed, joining you. There was no space between the two of you, legs tangled up together as you passed the bottle to him. He took a small swig before pressing it back into your hands. Once freed from the bottle he dropped his hands onto your thighs, bare due to the fact your mini dress had ridden up and now sat high on your legs, barely covering your lace clad ass.

“Was. It’s over now.” You replied bitterly taking a large gulp of the warm champagne. Maybe if you were sober, you would realise what position you were currently in with your boyfriend’s best friend, maybe if you were a better woman, you would remove yourself from his grip and ask him to leave. But you were not a better woman, you were angry and tipsy and all you wanted was to feel those hands all over your body.

“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating still? Where’s Art to give you a birthday treat?” Patrick's hands wandered further up your legs as he questioned you. He knew he was pushing the boundaries of what friends should be doing but he couldn’t help it. His best friend and girlfriend had kicked him out of Art’s dorm and left him to fend for himself. And how was he supposed to resist you when you had looked like that, strappy heels digging into the bed next to him, mascara smudged from where you had rubbed your eyes, lace panties peeking through the gaps of legs.

“Like you said, the lap dogs busy.” You held the bottle up to Patrick's lips and couldn’t not ogle as he let you tip it further back, forcing him to take more of the champagne. The bottle was only about halfway drunk, but you were sure that it was providing more than enough courage for the both of you. You pulled the bottle away from his lips, now glistening from the liquid and bent backwards to place it on the floor of your bedroom. Chest on display for Patrick’s gaze.

You righted yourself on the bed once more, your body now pressed against Patrick’s. It was a bad idea, to be here with him right now. But Art was with Tashi, and the way Patrick was looking at you as if you were the most divine being on the planet was enough for you to close the gap between the two of you and press your lips on his. It wasn’t even a full second before Patrick’s hands gripped your hips tight and pushed his lips onto yours in return. It was messy, you tasted of cheap alcohol and he of smokes. Your tongues both danced with each other’s, licking the backs of teeth, sliding against wetted lips. Your hands gripped his curls, and you tugged without thought, holding him in your embrace. Patrick’s moan did not go unnoticed by you, and you let the smirk spread across your face and you pushed him down on the bed.

It was a short-lived act of dominance though before Patrick pulled away with teeth pulling your lip, taking your body in his hands he flipped you around without much effort. You let out a surprised squeak as you back smacked lightly onto your bed, without even a moment’s notice you felt Patrick grip your wrists in his large hand and hold them above your head.

You were so unused to this forcefulness, with Art everything was more delicate, more worshiping. Usually, it would be you who took charge, whispering dirty things into his ear as you gripped his cock, teasing him for at least an hour before he even got to touch you. Patrick was so the opposite of this, taking your body in his hands as if he owned you, as if you were his to use as he wished.

“God your boyfriend is an idiot for missing out on this” Patrick whispered in your ear as he leaned down to kiss along your neck. You were ashamed of the heat that rose to your core at the mention of Art. You tried to buck your hips into Patrick’s, but he only smirked as he moved them away, clearly not eager to give you the satisfaction of his cock just yet.

“You like that? Thinking about Art as I mark you?” You could only nod as Patrick sucked a dark spot into the side of your neck, you knew you would be unable to hide that under a turtleneck and the thought drove you wild as you imagined Art’s reaction.

“Please” You begged, pulling your leg up his back trying to drag Patrick closer to you. You tried to give your best pleading eyes as you begged again, unsure of what you were even after. Patrick's smug laugh only further irritated you but you request was granted as his spare hand reached up to cup your breast. His hands pulled down the thin straps of your dress, fingers flicking your nipples and you shuddered in pleasure as his lips soon joined. You threw your head back against your baby pink pillows and managed to pull a hand out of Patrick’s grip allowing you to thread your hands into his dark curls and pull him closer to your chest.

“Fuck me” You moaned and your felt Patrick smirk against your soft skin.

“I’m trying.”

You rolled your eyes and lightly smacked him upon the head earning a laugh out of the boy on top of you. You felt Patrick's body retreat from your own as he lent back to take in the sight of you. The straps of your dress had now fallen down completely, your breasts on display and purpled from his adventures. His fingers danced at the hem of dress, slowly pushing it up to reveal the lace red panties you had worn for Art, Patrick’s eyes darkened at the sight as if knowing these were worn for his best friend. Your hands pushed at the hem of his shirt a silent plea for him to take it off, which he gladly obliged, throwing it somewhere in the corner of your room.

You allowed yourself the chance to ogle at Patrick’s chest, the trail of hair that went down past his pants made you flush, and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting your hands reach out and play with the dark curls. Patrick shivered under touch, and it was your chance to smirk at his pleasure. You raked your nails down the sides of his stomach towards back, hands slipping under his pants and gripping his ass over his boxers. Patrick moaned as his body fell back towards yours and you pressed your lips into his neck and up to his ear, teeth pulling at the lobe as your hands continued to explore his body.

Before you knew it Patrick was digging his clothed dick into your heat, hand tangled in your hair as you turned your head towards his, mouths meeting in a messy make out. Your moans filled the room, and you felt your eyes roll back as Patrick’s hand found the top of your underwear, fingers pulling at the elastic band and letting it smack into your skin. It was without warning before his hand was shoved under the lace, between your legs and finger gliding up your already wet slit before he placed two fingers around your clit. He allowed them to tease the bud lightly, making you whine in desperation, before he pressed down and began rubbing circles into it. It was rough and clumsy, and you could tell that while Art would do this to get you off, for your pleasure this was all for Patrick’s. Just the beginning to the pleasure he wished to seek from you.

“I need you inside of me. Please fuck me.” You beg as Patrick’s finger dipped into your hole, they were thicker than Arts as well, though not as long, but the stretch was heavenly. The pace was fast and unforgiving, leaving you breathless as he pushed it further into you.

“What would Art do?” Patrick asked, lips pressing into your neck again, adding a second finger into your hole. You moaned at the mention of Arts name and your breath hitched as you felt his fingers curl up and press into the right spot.

“Could he make you moan like this huh? Bet he regrets leaving you here to fend for yourself, where anyone could have you.” Patrick's words only spurred you on as you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your fingers dug into his back as breathy whines left your lips.

“Only you can do this, only moaning like this for you.” You managed to sputter out, which only seemed to spur Patrick on more, pace speeding up as if he knew you were about to come. In a few well positioned strokes and dirty words about how unfortunate Art was to be missing out on your moans you felt yourself coming on his fingers, a high-pitched moan that would leave your neighbours covering their ears left your throat as you pressed your breasts into Patrick’s chest. You felt yourself coming down as Patrick slowly fucked you with his fingers, before pulling them out and holding them to your lips. It was without a thought in the world that you wrapped your lips around his fingers, tongue pressing in between them as you sucked on them. You held eye contact with Patrick and felt the way his hips pressed down into yours.

“Fuck you are such a dirty slut” Patrick whispered, and you were shocked by the way the words went straight to your core. He pulled his fingers out from your mouth, letting them drag down your lips and face, wiping the spit onto your chest. You felt dirty and used in the best way possible, something Art had never done before.

“I need to fuck you.” Patrick stated, hands reaching down to his own pants, undoing them and pulling them down enough to pull his cock out. You could feel your mouth drop as you took in the sight in front of you. Art wasn’t small by any means, always filling you up, making you feel like you couldn’t take more, but Patrick was big. While the same length as Art’s the girth was almost double.

“I think you might break me with that” You joked, and Patrick smirked as he pulled your panties down your legs. You blindly reached into your bedside table before finding a condom and tossing it to Patrick. He only winked at you as he tore open the foil packet and rolled the latex down his cock, pumping it a few times to get him prepared.

“Turn over” Patrick demanded, and you did so without complaint. Your dress was now scrunched up to your waist, with your tits on full display. Patrick’s hand went straight into your hair, pressing your top half down further into the mattress as his other hand took his cock and began teasing you along your slit.

“Are you just gonna play with it or fuck me like a man?” You questioned but the words were cut off as Patrick inserted his full length into your hole in one thrust. Your mouth fell open as Patrick began a harsh pace, his dick forcing you open in a way you had never experienced before. You felt a smack on your ass before Patrick gripped it within his hand, using it to pull your body on and off his cock.

You tried to form some sort of wording, to tell him how good it felt but all you managed were short whines and a few fucks as his hips slammed into yours. You couldn’t help but get wetter as you heard him moan from behind you, it was like listening to a tennis match only this time you weren’t bored out of your mind.

“Fuck just like that, you’re so big oh my god” You managed to mutter as Patrick pulled your body back up, your back now pressed against his chest. You could feel the sweat between your bodies and your head lolled to the side as he pressed his fingers back into your mouth, his tongue licking the side of your neck while his spare hand reached down to rub fast circles into your clit.

“How’s the princess liking her birthday present huh?” Patrick asked, as he groaned into your ear, you could only nod and moan, your hands gripping his arms as you let the pleasure take over your body. You couldn’t seem to focus on anything he said anymore as his cock slammed into you over and over again, ripping any breaths out of you,

“You wanna come again?” Patrick teased, fingers speeding up on your clit and you nodded moaned.

“Please, please make me cum” You begged, and Patrick grunted into your ear, picking up his pace. You let your body go limp as he fucked you like a toy, tears now gathered at the corners of your eyes. Patrick noticed and without hesitation licked your face of the tears that had fallen down, his spit covered your faced and with that you felt the band inside you snap and you were coming again.

Patrick let you ride out your high before he was pushing your face back into the bed, his hands now gripping your hips and fucking into you as if you were some sort of flesh light as he chased his own high. It was only a few moments before he was moaning into your ear and filling up the condom.

The two of you stayed like that for a minute, sweaty chest pressed into your back, with kisses peppering your shoulder. His hand came up to brush the hair out of your face as you twisted your neck to the side so you could kiss him, his cock softening inside of you. With slow movement Patrick removed himself from you and slid of the condom tying it in a not and chucking into the small bin you hid under your desk. You rolled yourself over as he came to lay down next to you once again, you allowed yourself to be pulled into his arms and you laid your head onto his chest. Your fingers danced across his skin as he rubbed your arm, silence over taking the room. As if the weight of what the two of you had just done finally settled.

“We can’t tell Art.” You spoke. The words hung in the air, neither of you wanting to push the topic further.

“Or Tashi.” Patrick replied and you look up at him only to find him staring at you.

“It was just a one-time thing between friends. A birthday present.” You reasoned and Patrick snorted, you couldn’t help but let yourself giggle at the absurdity of it all too.

“Pretty fucking good birthday present.”

A/N: So I watched Challengers and of course I was fucking hooked. I am honestly an Art girly but we all know that that man is obsessed with Tashi so I do not stand a chance (also he is fictional). So instead here is some sex with Patrick. I have never written smut before so I am very sorry if it is bad and clunky, its hard to write about sex without it sounding kinda cringe I wont lie. Also I haven't edited this but need to get it out there.

#patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers #patrick zweig x reader #challengers x reader #patrick zweig x reader smut #art donaldson x reader #tashi duncan #patrick zweig x tashi duncan #art donaldson x tashi duncan

[creativewritersposts]

introverted - Luke Hughes

summary; Luke Hughes x reader

You know him for years over the internet. But when you meet him in person, he acts awkward and uncomfortable. It's a big step for an introverted guy. Can you handle it?

warning(s); FLUFF!!, mentions of insecurity, maybe grammar errors

author's note; hi you wonderful people out there! Hope you're all okay✨

--------------------------------------------------------------

Luke Hughes is everything.

He's awkward, he's a good player and wraps every girl around his finger even when he looks like a zombie, because he stayed awake too long last night to watch the new movie.

"-so he told me I'm boring-", you spill him the tea on FaceTime, talking about the boy you really liked and ghosted you. "He's wrong", Luke smiles in his camera, looking comfortable. It's something you learned about Luke- he's very shy and uncomfortable when he doesn't know people. It's weird how you became friends, - somehow. You're living one continent apart but your connection went good and never had problems to talk with each other. "well I have something to talk about", Luke speaks out and looks away from his display, you nod. "I booked you a ticket. I know you're having your summer vacation next week and being alone at home so you can join us in Michigan", his shy side shows again.

"MICHIGAN?", you squeak under panic. "yeah", he chuckles and looks insecure, thinking if it was the best idea. "Like Michigan with your parents, siblings?", you follow up. "Yeah", he smiles. "i told you not to pay things for me!", you warn him, "take it as an early birthday present ", he argues back. "my birthday is in december!", you roll your eyes, "ok, see you in Michigan!".

Here you are, with all your bags at the airport, searching for Luke. Or a nice sandwich, you're hungry. "Hey!", Luke waves awkwardly at you, coming closer, until he gives you the hand. "Luke", you raise your eyebrows, "we're friends for three years now, gimme a hug!", you hug him because he could say something against it. "I'm sorry but Jack is the driver", he warns you, talking a bag over his shoulder. Jack leans on the car door with sunglasses on, "hi", he hugs you without asking, driving to the lake house. "Mom cooked a lot of food, hope you're hungry", Jack eyes meeting yours, Luke just smiles. "sure, can I sit next to Luke?", you ask Jack. You're here because you want to spend time with him. "I'll not interrupt you lovebirds", he laughs and walks in front of you both. "Are you ok with sitting next to me?", Luke leans over to your ear, whispering these words. "sure, Lucky Luke", you smile at him. His cheeks are blushing. After meeting the whole family you ate dinner, but Luke looks very uncomfortable next to you. Barely talking. He avoids you for three days now, you try to get along with the family but you want to talk to him. You're here because of him.

"Luke?", you ask him, when you finally found a moment in piece with him. "hm?", he smiles.

"Do you want me to leave?", you speak out your worries. "no!", he shakes his head, "I am just very shy, ok? I need my time to feel comfortable", his ears getting red. Your body feels like under electricity, you're more extroverted and never thought he feels that way. "Sure, don't worry", you smile respectfully and leave the room. "Ohh trouble in paradise?", Jack asks you with his girlfriend under his left arm sleeping. "No, it's just too much", you sit down on a camping chair. "did he say something silly? He talked about meeting you nonstop in New Jersey", he focuses on your emotions. "He avoids me for three days and i asked him if i should leave. He told me he's shy and feels uncomfortable", you blame yourself. "sounds like Lukey", he nods understandable. "It's not your fault. After a few days he's the most annoying person ever, trust me", he huffs playfully with a small grin. "what can I do?", you ask him for advice. "He loves movie nights. Ask him to do that?", he thinks about his little weird ass brother.

"I don't want him to feel uncomfortable!", you worry. Jack nods and lays his girlfriends head on the lounger without waking her up.

"Luke!", Jack steps into the house, standing in front of his younger, taller brother. "you told me about this new movie, can you remember?", you join with them. "Yeah, it's a sequel from Harry Potter ", he nods friendly. "your best friend has no plans this night so you can watch it with her", he points with his finger at you, to stop miscommunication. "uhm-", Luke's voice cracks. "If you say no I'll watch it with her", he looms. "you have a girlfriend!?", you think out loud, both turn their bodies in your direction, "I can handle two women", Jack gets sassy. "okay, after dinner", Luke plays with his fingers.

Time flew away. Now you're sitting in Luke's bed, you can smell his cologne and waiting with snacks. "ok I'm ready", Luke comes in and smiles softly, but very nervous. "What are you wearing?", he blushes again, "a pyjama", you laugh. "uhm.. without bra?", he mudders. "Who knows", you mock him. You're laying both in his bed, you can feel how your eyes feel heavy, you yawn after a while. "Can i lay down on your chest?", you ask. His bed is like wood under your body, it's definitely not comfortable. "Sure", he's distracted with watching the movie, petting your hair without thinking much until he hears your softly snores. "sleep well", he kisses your cheek, wrapping his arm around you in the comfortable way and sleeps in, too.

The next morning you wake up from voices around you, "mom take a picture!", jack stresses. "Jack stop being so annoying in the morning!", she tells him, "they're kinda cute together", he whispers. And you close your eyes again.

#nhl blurb #nhl x reader #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #lh43

[thought--bubble]

Fear is a game for children

Aemond X Aemond Wife Reader X Daemon

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,716

Canon Aemond Master List

Daemon Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Written for the Dragon friends period smut collab. Based on an ask received by the wonderful @lady-phasma that she so kindly invited us to participate in!

Header by @zaldritzosrose

Please click HERE for the masterlist for this Collab

Warnings:: Mentions of menstruation, Some sexism, Dubious consent, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Multiple partners. (P in V Sex *Brief mention*)

Being married to a Targaryen prince wasn't half as bad as you had initially expected.

Your husband wasn't exactly warm and loving, but he was respectful, performed his marital duty, and made sure that you were comfortable throughout the process.

Yet you yearned for something more. Something other women spoke about. Not just comfort during the act but actual pleasure. The idea is that you did not need to simply be grateful that the act does not hurt but that you could derive actual pleasure from it.

You had brought this topic up to your husband multiple times. Trying to address what you were sure was a sensitive subject with the utmost gentleness.

At first, Aemond would hear nothing of it, only chastising you for your lewdness. But true to form for Aemond, being told that he was inadequate in anything would motivate him, and try he did, and he improved trying difference postions and pacing, preening at your positive encouragement. That came to an abrupt halt once your moonblood reared its head.

You had heard from your mother and other ladies of the court about the benefits of intimate connection with your husband even at this time, yet Aemond was entirely averse to the idea. Unsanitary and of no purpose being his selected terms. You took no offense to this. You knew how stubborn to change Aemond is. His ability to try something new is limited to the training yard or on the back of Vhagar. He had already done more than you had expected.

You learned quickly that the best time to get things from your husband was when he has had some wine. He is much more...... agreeable, in this state.

Viserys' big birthday feast tonight would be the perfect venue. Everyone knew it would most likely be his last so it was expected to be a grand affair, and a grand affair is was.

So, partway through the evening festivities, you find yourself sitting alone with a slightly wine soaked version of your husband. Your fingertips gently tapping on the table. You knew this may be your moment. Your moment to explain to him why this would be a positive for you both and your growing connection.

"Husband," you open conversation gently, your voice soft as snow.

"Wife?" He turns his head toward you, a small wrinkle creasing his forehead.

You love that little wrinkle. The wrinkle that tells you he is listening, that you have his attention even though his eye is not on you.

"Do you remember the conversation we had this morning?"

Aemonds back stiffens slightly, and he turns his head back to facing forward.

"I do. My opinion on the matter has not changed, " he replies dryly. His fingers lightly tapping on the smooth wooden table they rested upon.

"There are benefits, husband." You lower your voice as much as possible,"others have told me....."

He whips his head toward you, bringing his mouth close to the side of your head. "Do not tell me of your lecherous conversations with the dim-witted ladies of this court." He hisses between clenched teeth "it is beneath your station"

You open your mouth to retort but are cut short by a dark chuckle emanating from behind you.

Daemon Targaryen leans against the wall, his frame tall, his shoulders broad. His short white hair slicked back, with a smile that creeps up his face before settling behind his sharp lilac eyes.

"Oh dear nephew! Must you be such a prude? Must be the Hightower in you." Daemon swirls his wine around his goblet, his eyes trained on you, but his words meant for your husband.

"I find myself quite intrigued by your wife's lascivious conversations and would be quite pleased to hear more." he pushes himself off the wall, bringing his free hand to your shoulder, "do continue, princess."

Your words catch in your throat as heat rises to your face. Your husband and his uncle exchange some choice words in hushed tones, but you can't hear them over the rush of blood pounding in your ears.

You are finally torn from your mental whirlwind when your husband abruptly grips your hand pulling you harshly to your feet.

"My wife and I wish to retire. As always, it has been the utmost pleasure to speak with you, uncle. " Aemonds words are polite, yet the venom in his tone could not be clearer.

As your husband pulls you out of the banquet hall and through the corridors of the redkeep, your stomach is doing somersaults. It is not easy to provoke the wrath of your husband. As his wife, he has always used gentle hands with you, though embarrassment is not something he takes lightly.

You try not to imagine the fate that awaits you behind your chamber door, where Aemond will be free to let you know exactly how he feels about the shame you have clearly brought upon him.

The tapping of your feet against the stone floor echoes through the corridors. Your soft steps, your husband's harsh steps, and a third set of steps heavier than yours yet lighter than your husband's and trailing behind you

You audibly gulp before turning your head to glance behind you but before you can fully turn your head your husband yanks you forward.

"Dear uncle. Your accommodations are back towards the hall. I fear you may not be headed in the right direction. " Aemond attempts to exude an air of confidence, but the gentle shake to his voice is unmistakable, especially to a predator like the rogue prince himself.

"You fear a lot of things, sweet nephew, if I am to understand our previous conversation" Daemon continues following you and Aemond through the corridors, even as Aemond increases his pace nearly dragging you along the floor.

"Dragons fly! They do not run!" Daemon chuckles heartily as he picks up his pace as well. You can't help but admire the confidence in his voice, in his swagger. It's something you see Aemond becoming once time has had a chance to mature him.

When you reach your chambers, Aemond practically shoves you through the door. Turning his body hastily in an attempt to get the door shut. Just as the door is near to close in slips, the tip of a boot.

"Uncle," Aemond growls his hands grip the door tightly, his arm muscles flexing.

"Yes, it is me," Daemon chuckles as he pushes through the door as if Aemond is a mere fly he was swatting from his face.

"The hour has grown quite late. My lady wife and I wish to retire... tis hardly the time for company" Aemond holds his arm out towards his uncle in an attempt to corral him back out the open door.

"Oh, but I have been left unsatisfied by our earlier conversation and a dragon...... well, we simply can not go unsatisfied. " Daemon feigns a smile toward Aemond before setting his sights on you.

"Now princess, if you wish for me to take my leave, I will. Just as soon as you tell me the subject of these conversations with the ladies of the court. The conversations that serve to upset my nephew so much." Daemon wiggles his eyebrows at you before settling himself in one of the chairs placed before the hearth in your marriage chambers.

"Well......" You trail off unsure of what you should do. You're placed in a room with two quarreling dragons, and you feel the fire breathing down your neck. You look toward your husband for some guidance, but he simply looks down.

"We speak about girlish things. Things I am sure would bore you greatly, my prince."

"Hmmm...." Daemon scratches his chin, his smirk returning to his face when he sees how uncomfortable Aemond is.

"What kind of girlish things was my dear nephew chastising you for? For I am sure it was not because you spoke of gowns, balls, or childbearing. " Daemon starts to tap his foot, and your stomach curls.

You know the situation you are in. You refuse Daemon and meet his wrath now, or you appease Daemon and meet Aemond's wrath later. You decide you are better off calming your husband then to attempt to avoid the questions asked by the elder dragon prince.

"We spoke of benefits." You clear your throat and pull and the neckline of your gown, the material suddenly tight around your neck and heavy upon your frame.

"This bores me" Daemon drawls annoyed. "What is it?"

"The benefits of...... intimate moments with one's husband... during.... well..... when a lady has her moonblood. " As the words leave your lips, you turn your head to the side in a desperate attempt to not look at your husband.

"Is that it?" Daemon laughs loudly. Though the laughter is not joyful, instead it is condescending.

"Oh, nephew! You are supposed to be a dragon! Yet you fear a little blood?" Daemon stands up hastily from his chair. He casts a sideways look towards Aemond before smirking and making his way to you swiftly, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Uncle......" Aemond voice is a low growl and he stands with his legs spread slightly apart.

"It is wholly unsurprising that you have yet to...... bloody your blade. " Daemon snickers his back, turned away from Aemond, his arm still around your waist. "Such a fearful boy. Now pay attention. I am about to teach you a lesson you would be wise to learn...."

With that, Daemon tightens his grip around your waist, walking you backward toward the bed you share with your husband, pushing you gently until you land softly on your back.

"Nephew. As a dragon....." Daemon leans down, pushing your dress up your legs and around your hips. "Blood is not something we fear." He deftly wraps his fingers around the band of your small clothes, quickly pulling them down your legs before discarding them.

"Come" Daemon beckons Aemond to stand behind him, Aemond stays rooted in place at first but after a sharp look of annoyance from Daemon he slowly walks over until he is behind him.

Daemon brings his hand to your heat opening you up with his fingers. His hands are cold, sending a shiver up your spine.

"Are you sore princess?" Daemon's question pours over you like warm water, the chill running down your spine replaced with a heat.

"Why would she be?" Aemond's voice cuts through your haze briefly.

Daemon pinches his nose before turning to look at Aemond. "Because, ladies can be sore during this time. you tout around all of your knowledge yet do not know this?"

Aemond scoffs and turns his head. "The affairs of women are hardly my concern"

You try to keep the thoughts in your head from displaying on your face.

"The comfort of your wife should be your concern Aemond" Daemon runs his fingers through your folds swiping the pads of his middle and forefinger over your pearl. "however do you cope princess?"

Your back arches slightly at the touch, a soft sigh slipping out from between your lips.

"Such a responsive thing. You are a man of good fortune Aemond. Unfortunate that you have squandered it until now."

Daemon brings his head down between your thighs rolling his tongue over your clit, humming as he goes.

Your reaction is instant. Aemond has never gone down on you at all let alone during your cycle. Your hands quickly find their way into Daemon's hair pulling him closer.

Your eyes shoot open as his slides one cold long finger into your heat, crooking it upwards and exploring your insides. You look for Aemond, slightly raising your head and find him frozen. His one pupil blown and taking in the sight before him.

You moan loudly as the lewd wet sounds of Daemon's mouth sucking and licking at your heat ring loud around the room. You feel that pressure that you have experienced very few times start to build in your lower stomach, tightening like a coil, ready to pop loose at any moment.

Daemon lifts his head from you, your juices and moonblood are a cloudy mixture that drip down his chin.

"Give in for me sweet girl, show your husband what you look like when a man does as he should" Daemon growls as he brings his face back down to your heat, biting gently and sucking harshly on your swollen nub.

The pleasure that had been building in your lower stomach reaches a pinnacle and crashes over you like a wave, your back arching off the bed, nothing else exists for you in this moment aside from your pleasure and the momentary relief you feel from you feminine aches.

The noises you make are unbecoming for a lady of your standing but not even the 7 could keep you quiet now.

Daemon leans back on his haunches, a sly smirk on his face clearly pleased with himself. "And that, dear nephew, is what a satisfied woman looks like, a new view for you, of that i am sure."

Aemond angrily shoves Daemon to the side causing him to lose his balance temporarily.

"You are most welcome princess" Daemon taunts haughtily, he makes no moves to clean off his face instead focused on Aemond who has now lowered his own face to your heat desperately attempting to recreate the scene he just witnessed.

"Slower nephew. There is a build up that must be done"

Aemond slows his movements suddenly, the overstimulation you were feeling calms to a gentle wave of pleasure as your husband flicks his tongue across your sweet pearl.

Daemon gets up and crawls onto the bed kneeling beside you.

"Princess..." He coos directly into your ear while pushing your hair back. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Y-Yes" your breaths are short and broken, each stroke of Aemond tongue across you overstimulated clit cause a small twitch.

"That is good." Daemon brings his lips to yours pushing his tongue into your mouth, the taste of wine and copper fills your mouth heightening your pleasure as it once again builds.

You bring your hands down to Aemond's hair using it as an anchor to hold him in place as you take your pleasure from him rubbing yourself against his prominent nose as he shoves his tongue into your clenching entrance.

Your hips roll as you move climbing up that wall of pleasure once again, Daemon trails bloody kisses down your neck and over your cleavage, before grasping your left breast, kneading the fatty flesh beneath his palm.

"You are taking much longer than I did nephew" He taunts his mouth up against the side of your throat, biting a nibbling at the sensitive flesh there.

Aemond takes this taunt as a challenge pressing two fingers into your core and flattening his tongue against your pearl. His fingers digging into the fatty flesh of your thighs.

The stimulation of your core, mixed with Daemon's tight grip of your breast and needy kisses sends you hurtling back towards your peak.

"Aemond... please Aemond" you gasp as you feel your body tense, a small tremble spreading throughout your entire frame.

"Hmmmm" Aemond hums applying more pressure to your pearl and pushing his fingers into your body at an accelerated pace.

"One more time for us princess" Daemon whispers into your ear, gently biting at the lobe.

"One more!" You gasp out before succumbing to your orgasm.

You gasp loudly, feeling as if you could take all the air in the room into your lungs and it still wouldn't be enough.

Aemond raises his head slowly from between your legs the same mixture dripping down his face and covering the tips of his white hair.

His eye connects with yours as he stands and starts to loosen the laces of his trousers.

Daemon pulls away from your neck and watches Aemond as he pushes himself into your core in one swift motion, his face and hair still covered in your blood, his ravenous eye upon you and his fingers digging so deeply into your thighs you are sure he will soon break skin.

"And now nephew....." Daemon chuckles and slightly pushes back his hair. "you finally look like a dragon"

To be added to taglists click HERE

#aemond x reader #daemon x reader #aemond fanfiction #daemon targeryan #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #ewan mitchell verse #daemon fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfic #matt smith fanfiction #jess fics

[grapejuicestyless]

Happier

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is not happy, despite the smile etched into her face, and nobody can see that, nobody but Harry, who can’t seem to express his concern in a gentle way.

“You look happier.”

What am I supposed to say to that? Thank you? I don’t mean to be mean when nobody meant any harm, but it feels so casually cruel for someone to pick up on the way I’ve changed and mistake my spiraling for happiness.

I don’t know the true shape of my face. My cheeks were round most of my life, meant to be kneaded between the fingers of my working class grandmother while she baked in the kitchen, but more recently the skin has fallen from the bone and what was once rolled between wrinkled fingers is tighter to my face as it strangles me from the inside out.

I don’t recognize myself either. Maybe I never did, because even when I search for the girl I once was, I can never seem to find her. I remember running around as a child with my best friend, the grass stains on my jeans and the holes in my sweater from tug of war’s in his backyard. She was happy, even if she looked tired. She was the happiest I’d ever been, but she was so young. She hadn’t found herself yet and maybe that’s what made life so good, the ignorance of the real world and how it would shape her.

Maybe the real me is the person who reaches out to her friends when she misses them, or maybe its the girl who counted down the days to her seventeenth birthday so she could finally relate to the lyrics of Dancing Queen and mean it finally. But maybe it’s the girl who sits in bed staring at the ceiling wondering why she never made it where everyone else was going. Maybe it’s the girl who wished her mother cared just a little bit more to stop comparing her to her “smarter” friends when she was twelve.

So maybe I do look happy, maybe I am happy. Maybe I have never felt happy before and maybe that’s why I feel so conflicted about if I truly am or if I am just projecting it out to seem that way.

“Harry.”

I call into the darkness, wandering the house party in a sweaty costume sticky with splashes of beer on the fabric, only half of the costume I came with.

The hallway is long and winding, but it always feels that way when I’m not exactly sure if I’m going in the right direction.

“Harry?” I call out again, spotting the other half of my costume.

“Y/n.” He smiles with a sigh, like even though the smoke between his fingers is taking off the edge, I’ve just calmed the entire air surrounding him. For me, it’s the same feeling. When he’s near, everything seems to slow down for a moment. After about the thousandth comment on how much better I looked from some friends of friends, he disappeared, and maybe that’s why their integrating looks bother me so much, because theres no hand to hold onto to distract me from myself.

I slide against the wall to sit with him, my eyes finding purchase on the same cracks across the thin hallway as he did, and the warm blunt being lazily passed from his fingers to mine.

“I think you’re rubbing all your glitter onto my pants.” he breathes out casually into the comfortable silence. I feel the tension in my shoulders expand before fading.

“I think it’s in my eyes too.”

“Just when I thought they couldn’t shine any brighter.” Harry lifts his hand to hook his index finger around my chin, smiling like an idiot when he sees my lips curl comfortably around the joint.

“Well, maybe I feel better than usual. It’s finally reflecting back to you.”

I joke, feeling sick as I recall the conversation from before. I look happier, as if to suggest that before I was miserable, and even if they weren’t wrong about that, the fact that anyone could read that without a second glance scared me. How a stranger could read me before I could.

“Well, you look like shit if you do.”

“Ouch, that obvious?”

“If I counted each time you rolled your eyes when someone told you that whole speech about how good you look, I’d run out of fingers.”

Harry laughs as he takes back the weed to finish it off. I’ve already drank more than him, so the sway in my body becomes more noticeable as the burn sears down my throat.

“It’s just so…wrong. I mean, I guess I feel okay, but do I really look good enough for all this praise?” I ask quietly into the night, my knees pressing against my chest as I hug my calves tightly between my sweaty palms.

“I think you’re very pretty, Y/n. You are pretty. But your face is changing and no amount of glitter can cover that up.” He tells me honestly, rubbing out the dying end onto his knee and sighing at the burn.

“If you still believe that then I haven’t used enough glitter.” I try to joke, to brush away the rising bile in my throat and tension in the air.

“You can fool anyone else, but I know you. Even if you’re not who you once were, I still know you because I love you.”

“Well you shouldn’t. I’m a leech. I’ll fucking suck up all the joy from your life until you’re too exhausted to leave.” I smiled at the ground drunkenly, head hung low and my eyes heavy.

“But I do. You’re my best friend and it’s pathetic how you let yourself far so low.” Harry flicks out the end of the blunt, watching the ashes fall the floor and stain the carpet lining the thin hallway.

“I came to you for comfort, you know. Not to get drilled in a bunny costume.” I roll my eyes, the haze clearing at his bitter remarks.

“Well tough luck, I guess. You look like shit for a girl who everyone here thinks is so happy.” Harry looks at me, his hand moving to wipe away the glitter by my eye.

“I need air.” I stand up, almost stumbling against the faint curling of the carpet at the edges. It’s new and that’s how you can tell, it hasn’t fully sunken into the floor, and it’s such a shame that it’s forever stuck with the glitter from my costume and the ashes of Harry’s joint.

“You need help.”

I stop, and there’s a beat that passes.

“You’re a real asshole when you’re high, you know. I have my own shit, I don’t need to be taking yours too.” I smile at him, but only because he was smiling at me.

“Maybe I am.” He responds plainly, and when he looks the other way, I feel heavier than before, more picked apart than before, more vulnerable than before.

Theres a thousand eyes on my back just waiting for me to crack, like the chip in my tooth from how hard I’m smiling while talking to strangers about my hopeless life. And they all say I look happier.

“But y/n,” Harry calls out for me, and for a moment I believe he might apologize.

“You look happy.”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry x reader #harrystyles #harry styles

[hyuckwrlds]

>> little light

wc: 635 happy birthday haechan

Haechan’s alarm is a blaring, obnoxious sound. It’s shrill and annoying and echoes off the walls of his bedroom, almost always waking you up before him. That’s why it’s a wonder that he’s able to sleep through it so soundly, face nuzzled blissfully into your hair as if his alarm was set to the sound of angels serenading him instead.

In retrospect, his alarm rarely does its job of waking him up. For some reason, it always has to be you.

“Haechan,” you mumble, patting lazily at the arm slung across your body. You don’t have to open your eyes to know he’s still asleep.

You pat him again. “Baby, your alarm.”

Somewhere behind you, you feel him stir, but he has yet to silence his phone. Instead, he only mutters something you can’t catch. You squint open your eyes to the faint light of sunrise seeping in through the window.

“Haechan,” you repeat, turning around in his hold. With the tip of your nose, you nudge him by the collar of his old teddy bear t-shirt. It had been your birthday gift to him some years ago but is now worn to the point where the print is beginning to fade. And despite all the shirts you’ve gotten him since then, none of them have ever been as loved as this one.

“Sorry,” he eventually replies, reaching over you to grab his phone sitting on the bedside table. Once the room settles back into silence, he resumes his original position, albeit holding you a little tighter under the sheets. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with Chenle?” you ask sleepily, ducking your head beneath his chin.

You hear him stifle back a yawn. “He can wait.”

“I think we both know that he can’t,” you tease, reveling in the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Somewhere above you he snorts. “Well, he’s gonna have to. This is more important.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead and your heart swells with warmth. Even though this is how most mornings start when you two are together, you can’t help but be selfish for a little bit, indulging in his love for just a minute or two longer.

You’d never tell him but he’s right. Maybe nothing else matters when he’s by your side. But for now—

“Baby,” you start again. “You should get up.”

For now, you’d rather not be at the opposite end of Chenle’s annoyance.

Haechan takes a heavy breath before loosening his grip on you. “Fine. Hold on. Lemme just—”

He shifts back a little until you’re able to get a clear view of his face. He stares at you, with his messy hair and constellations of moles dotting his cheeks. You fight back the smile pulling at your lips. He’s just that cute.

You raise a brow. “Just what?”

“Let me look at you,” he says softly, smiling into the words.

There’s a roll of your eyes. “You look at me all the time.”

“Not like this.” 

“What’s different this time?”

“Nothing,” he says before shrugging. “Everything.”

Sure, it’s a vague answer but with the way he looks at you, you’re certain you already know what he means. It’s not unlike the times when you’re out with friends and his gaze meets yours across the room—searching for the comfort of nothing other than knowing you’re there. The same rings true this morning.

Because despite his stupid alarm and the cracking print of his old t-shirt, everything is right. In this moment, it’s only you and him, and he’ll be damned if he lets Chenle get in the way of that.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he greets, running a hand along the side of your face.

You take his hand in yours, smiling over at him. “Good morning, Haechan. I love you.”

#not sure how i feel abt this one #but i wanted to get something out for his bday #haechan #haechan x reader #nct fluff #haechan fluff #nct x reader #haechan imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fluff #haechan scenarios #hyuckwrlds

[ticklygiggles]

Ten minutes in heaven | Wrioney [n$fw]

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN THE AFTERNOON WONDERFUL FABI @lovelynim! I hope you enjoy this little gift! It's my first time working Wrioney, I hope I made them justice and you like this! I LOVE YOU ❤️

Summary: Wriothesley not only stood him up, but also ghosted him. It's only Lyney is so mad. 

Words: 2k+

“Sigewinne, let me out! I'm not kidding!” 

“Nope.” The sweet voice came from outside. “I'm tired of listening to you both bickering, so you'll both stay there until you reconcile.” They couldn't see her, but Sigewinne nodded, proud of herself. “Or else you won't get out. I'll be back in ten minutes.”

00:01:00

Lyney whined, pressing his forehead against the wooden door. If he had known that his visit to the Fortress of Meripide would end with him locked in that small closet with the person he least wanted to be around at that moment– well, he wouldn't have gone in the first place.

Besides, he had only gone for one reason: he wanted to fight. He wanted to argue with the administrator of the place, also called Wriothesley, also called his boyfriend. Turning his head slightly, he looked at Wriothesley standing behind him, arms crossed above his broad chest, with his imposing stature and his warm eyes fixed on Lyney. Lyney frowned, also crossing his arms and leaning his back against the door. Wriothesley chuckled and a deep blush spread across his cheeks from pure anger; he bared his fangs in a snarl, glaring at the other man. 

“What?!” 

Wriothesley shook his head softly, “are you really that mad at me, kitten?” 

Somehow, Lyney felt heat radiating from his vision, he was ready to attack at any second. “Don't call me that! I hate you so much, get me out!” 

Wriothesley chuckled again, shrugging his shoulders. “I can't. Sigewinne has the key and I'm not planning on destroying my office.”

“Hmph!”

00:02:07

Lyney couldn't decipher the emotion in Wriothesley's eyes. Something between sadness and tenderness and shame and love– he couldn't stand looking at him anymore and he closed his eyes, turning his head. 

“Listen, kitten-” 

“Don't call me that.”

“Lyney, I'm truly sorry about what I did,” Wriothesley said, gently touching Lyney’s elbow, but the magician jerked away. “You know my work here is not easy, I truly wanted to be there on time, but then Neuvillette came by and I had to take care of some stuff and-”

“It's not just that!” 

Lyney hated that he felt his eyes tearing up. He was used to Wriothesley's rudeness, but knew it was not on purpose. It was true that his job wasn't exactly an easy one, and Lyney forgave every time Wriothesley missed one of their dates or arrived ridiculously late, because he understood, he really did. But just because he knew that Wriothesley's job kept him busy most of the time, Lyney made sure to invite him to a super important show he was having months in advance, and he made sure to remind Wriothesley every single week, every single day and he promised so sure of himself that he was going to be there. 

But of course, he wasn't, but the worst thing was that it had been two weeks since that day and Lyney had heard absolutely nothing from Wriothesley in all that time! He even thought that something bad had happened to him, but what was his surprise when he found him stuck in his office; when their eyes met, Wriothesley didn't even seem surprised to see Lyney and greeted him as he normally did. Wasn't that too much?! 

“I can't believe you treated me like that. And you know it's not only about you not coming to see my show, but you just not reaching me in two whole weeks! Do you know how worried I was?!” 

“I'm so sorry, I really have no excuse for that,” Wriothesley said sincerely, scratching the back of his head. “I thought you'd be really angry with me, so I wanted to give you your space, but… I think I messed up even more.”

“Yes you did!” Lyney wiped the tears from his cheeks angrily, and taking a single step forward, he encountered Wriothesley's body and punched him in the chest. “I felt so bad! I thought you didn't want to see me anymore! You're so stupid, Wriothesley!” 

Perfect, now he was really crying. Lyney whined and growled when Wriothesley suddenly hugged him, pressing him tightly against his chest. He struggled, trying to break free from the embrace, he didn't want to be comforted, he wanted Wriothesley to know that he had made him feel terribly bad! 

“I'm truly sorry, Lyney,” Wriothesley said softly, his deep voice against Lyney's ear making him shiver. “I was just careless and stupid. I truly wanted to go see you, but I didn't dare– I didn't know how to face you and what to say to you after promising for months that I would be there. I'm sorry, kitten.” 

Lyney pressed his face against Wriothesley’s chest and cried. The last two weeks had been hell for him. Had Wriothesley stopped loving him? Had he missed Lyney's show because he never  wanted to see him again? Worse yet, had something happened to him? Did he get into an accident when he was on his way to the show? A thousand and one thoughts ran through his mind, they didn't let him sleep, eat, and sometimes even breathe. He was afraid to go to the Fortress of Meripide because he didn't want to know if something bad happened to Wriothesley, but in the end he did and to find him there… just working. 

“I was scared! I hate you so much, Wriothesley!” 

That was a lie, of course he didn't hate him, on the contrary, the only reason he was there was because he loved him desperately. His heart longed to see him safe and sound, he wanted to be in Wriothesley's arms again and hear his voice. Lyney just couldn't hate him because he loved him too much. 

Wriothesley gently cupped his flushed, wet cheeks, his thumbs gently rubbing under his eyes to wipe the falling tears away. He pressed a tender kiss to Lyney’s forehead, then his nose and the corner of his mouth before pressing their foreheads together. 

“Please forgive me, Lyney. Just this once. I promise I'll do better.” 

Lyney whined, his eyes crossing a little as he tried to look at Wriothesley’s. “I just want you to let me know you won't come and if you're okay! I understand about your stupid job!” 

Wriothesley chuckled and Lyney couldn't help but smile, gently hitting his arm. “You are so stupid!” 

00:04:45

Wriothesley nodded, “I am. I missed you very much, kitten.” 

Lyney pouted and with a smile, Wriothesley kissed his lips. A small, chaste kiss that made Lyney feel butterflies, but a small kiss like that wasn't enough for the two weeks they hadn't seen each other. Lyney wrapped his arms around Wriothesley's waist and brought him close to him, his tongue pushing between the other's lips, making him gasp into Lyney's mouth. Wriothesley grabbed the back of Lyney's head, tilting his head back slightly so he could kiss him better. A war broke out within their mouths; gasps and soft moans escaped their lips as they hungrily devoured each other. 

Lyney felt light-headed, breathless. His heart was beating fast, bouncing within his chest. He had missed Wriothesley's passionate kisses so much, his strong hands holding his face, the warmth of his body against him. He had missed it so much. He opened one of his eyes, his sight slightly blurry with tears; Wriothesley's expression was a sight to behold… but why was he looking so happy after the torture he made Lyney go through? He had forgiven him, but would he get out of this without being punished? Of course not! 

Lyney tapped his fingers against Wriothesley’s waist, between those fierce kisses, Wriothesley barely noticed the light touch on his waist, but it was very different when Lyney pressed that super sensitive spot just above Wriothesley's hips. 

00:05:37

Wriothesley gasped, quickly pulling apart and grabbing Lyney's shoulders to push him away. “What are you- ngh!” His words got stuck in his throat, Lyney was smirking widely.

“What? Did you really think I won't punish you? Silly Duke.” 

Wriothesley opened his mouth to say something else, but Lyney pressed against him, cornering him against the wall as his light fingers clawed at Wriothesley’s hips, making him jump and break into loud laughter. He arched his back, but Lyney simply pressed against him tighter, one of his legs between Wriothesley's. He always found it funny how a big guy like Wriothesley became almost useless when tickled; even someone small like Lyney could manhandle him a bit like this. 

Wriothesley's hands tried to push Lyney away, but when his nimble fingers moved under his arms, Wriothesley pressed his arms to his sides, laughing brightly. He squirmed and begged between gasps and laughs and squeals for Lyney to stop, but his pleas fell in deaf ears. 

“Ah, so your armpits are still really ticklish, hmm? What about here?” 

“N-NoHOho! K-KihiHIhitten, plehehease!” 

Snorty giggles left his mouth when Lyney started to wiggle his fingers against the sides of his neck, a sweet spot the magician especially loved. It made Wriothesley so desperate, his laughter panicking and his squirming intensifying. It seemed completely torturous to him and Lyney couldn't help but feel a little sadistic seeing Wriothesley's state. He was flushing already, even crying as he mercilessly tickled his neck and- oh? 

00:06:40

“You are disgusting, Wriothesley. Why are you grinding against my thigh? Ah, I see, you liked your tickles too much?” 

Wriothesley shook his head, going crazy with the tickling on his neck. His hands lacked the strength to push Lyney's fingers away, and Lyney laughed.

“S-Stohop, PLEHEASE, I- NGH!”

“You don't want me to stop,” Lyney purred, the maddening tickling stopping so he could palm Wriothesley's hardening cock above his clothes. “You're not supposed to enjoy your punishments, Wriothesley.” Lyney wrapped the red tie around his hand and pulled at it, bringing Wriothesley’s face close to his. “I really should show you how pissed I am with you, hmm?” 

“K-Kitten,” Wriothesley gulped, his teary eyes blinking and trying to find a way out. Lyney smirked. “I s-said I'm sorry. And you said… you forgave me.” 

Lyney shrugged, “and I did, but you need to learn your lesson. Do not mess with me again, Wriothesley.” 

Wriothesley gasped when Lyney suddenly dropped on his knees in front of him, his fingers hooking on the waistband of his pants and the elastic of his underwear and pulled them down to his knees at once. Wriothesley whimpered and he tried to cover his half hard dick, but Lyney slapped his big hands away and took Wriothesley’s cock between his smaller hands. 

His cock wasn't even half its usual size, but Lyney knew what to do. He lifted the cock with one hand and his tongue traced a warm, wet path of saliva from Wriothesley's balls to the tip. Wriothesley's legs shook and he pressed a hand against his mouth to keep from making a sound. Lyney laughed, closing his mouth around the tip and circling with his tongue. The salty taste of precum exploded in his mouth as his hand moved up and down slowly, stroking the growing length. 

“L-Lyney,” he moaned, his voice muffled behind his hand. 

“There we go,” Lyney said, pulling the cock out of his mouth with a pop and it kept up, moist and dripping. “That was fast, huh? Were you pent up? Did you miss me during these two weeks? You just wanted to fuck me, right?” He slapped the tip of Wriothesley's cock and he trembled, a deep moan leaving his mouth. 

“I- I didn't only miss f-fucking you, I-”

“You didn't? I don't believe you,” Lyney said with a shrug, his hand wrapping around Wriothesley's cock again, stroking him fast. “I think you just wanted to put this thing on my butt all these days.” 

Wriothesley shook his head, grunting and moaning, his hips circling and thrusting. Lyney smirked, oh his poor Wriothesley was so close to cum. He really was pent up, hmm? What a shame~

00:08:59

“No you can't.” Lyney stopped, his hands moving away, and Wriothesley cried, clenching his dick as trying to reach his peak, but it was useless. 

“H-Huh?! W-Why not?!”

Lyney pouted, looking at Wriothesley's cock as the tip of his finger tapped against the wet head, making it twitch. “It's frustrating right?” Lyney pressed a kiss to the tip and looked up at Wriothesley. “That's how you make me feel, Wrio. So. Frustrated.” 

Lyney stuck his tongue out and licked the salty precum before pushing the whole length into his mouth. Wriothesley was huge, but Lyney wasn't scared of it anymore, rather he was hungry. Wriothesley moaned loudly, his hands moving to grip at Lyney's hair. The magician frowned and slapped at the hands, pushing them away from him as he started to bobble his head, sucking Wriothesley. One of his hands gripped Wriothesley's thighs to keep his balance while the other started to tickle his balls.

Wriothesley gasped. “Nngh! H-Hold on! Hold ohohon! D-dohon't tickle me t-tohoo!”

He squirmed and Lyney frowned, pressing his hand against Wriothesley's hip to keep him in place. 

“L-Lyney… ah! Ah! I'm c-cumming. I'm- 

“Phaw!” 

00:09:15

“N-No, please! Le-Let me cum, please. Please!” Tears of despair fell down Wriothesley's cheeks. Oh, Lyney loved seeing him so desperate. He smiled angelically. 

“Ow, you wanted to cum, Wrio? I'm so sorry, I had no idea!” Lyney raised, placing Wriothesley's cock between his legs, making him hiss. “You really wanted to cum?” He whispered against Wriothesley's lips and he nodded desperately. “I really wanted to see you these two weeks.” 

Wriothesley whined, “I'm sorry, Lyney. I'm s-sorry- anh!” 

Lyney began to move his hips, squeezing Wriothesley's cock between his thighs. The duke moaned, his eyes crossing. Lyney smirked, his fingers flicking Wriothesley's hardened nipples over his suit. “Are you feeling well, your excellency?” Wriothesley shuddered, nodding as his breathing became erratic. He was close again. “Oh no, his excellency is going to cum, does he deserve it?” 

“Yes! Yes, please don't stop, please, I-”

00:10:03

“I am back! Are you guys reconciled?” 

Wriothesley gasped and Lyney giggled when he pressed him tightly against him, but he pulled away, leaving his cock twitching with yet another ruined orgasm. 

“What a shame, you were so close, Wriothesley,” he whispered, shrugging and winking at him before turning around. “We're ready, Sigewinne, we're good again.”

“Great! Then I'll open the door.” Lyney heard the key turning in the bolt and the padlock opening, Sigewinne's small hand closed around the knob and she turned it, trying to open it. ‘'Huh?! Why can't I open it?!” 

A wide smile appeared on Lyney's face as a hand pressed against the door, right next to his head.

“Sorry, Sigewinne,” Wriothesley said, his voice strained. “We still… need to talk.”

“Ah I see,” Sigewinne said, leaving the knob. “Then I'll let you to it then. I'll be back in another ten minutes!” 

They both heard small footsteps walking away and then the office door opening and closing. Lyney laughed softly. 

“Do you need something, Wrio?” 

00:01:01

“Yes and we have ten minutes for it.” Lyney gasped when Wriothesley pulled his shorts and underwear down, freeing his hard cock. A finger touched his butthole and he whimpered, holding onto the door. “Let's see how much you missed me, Kitten.” 

Lyney purred. “I wonder~” 

Lyney wondered if ten minutes would be enough to satisfy Wriothesley… and himself after being away for two whole weeks. Ah, make-up sex was always the best.

#genshin impact #genshin impact tickling #Wriothesley #lyney #wrioney #ticklish!Wriothesley #n$fw #spicy #mia's things #mia's fics #fabifabifabifabi #HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAAAAIN ❤️

[thelov3lybookworm]

Never Meant To Be

Beron Vanserra x Reader

Summary: an elite member of the society and a poor girl from the lower part of the town are destined to never be.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: this is a beron fic. i do not in any way support abuse irl, but i wanted to rite for him. if you dont like beron, please dont read 😭

also. BIRTHDAY GIFT FIC FOR MY BELOVED @fell-in-luvs 🥹❣️

(dividers by @tsunami-of-tears <3)

anywho. enjoy!!

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Y/n paused midstep, curious eyes peering over the railing, trying to find where the sound was coming from. Hands tightened on the wooden bannister of the stairway, eyebrows furrowing. Maybe she should have brought a candle with her. The room was too dark for her to make out anything but the window in the far wall, lit up with the moonlight that spilled in, liquid and shimmery under the cover of night.

Breath escaping her lungs, Y/n descended the rest of the stairs, carefully tiptoeing so as not to wake her father sleeping on the floor above. By this point, she could recall the creaky steps from memory, and it was easy to avoid them. What she was more concerned about was bones lying around. Those sharp bones that flew around as her father butchered animals was the only thing Y/n was concerned about, really, considering she was barefoot.

Quietly, she made her way towards the window, slowly pulling open the drawer where she kept the candles. By the time her fingers wrapped around the waxy stick, her eyes had started drooping already. It hurt to keep them open, to the point she considered just returning to her room and ignoring the dripping liquid. But the area she lived in was poor, and the people here could not afford to waste resources. Water was precious, most of it being used up by the elites of the society, whatever little was left flowing down to the lower suburbs where Y/n resided with her father.

She brought out the candle, shutting her eyes tight before blinking them open again in hopes it would help her shake the fatigue that began weighing down her shoulders. Lifting her fingers to the wick was a task that seemed impossible, but she somehow managed to light the candle up. With that, she hurried towards the faucets in the kitchen, squinting. Sure enough, water dripped from the tap. A breath escaped Y/n as she reached her hand out, grabbing the handle and twisting until the water stopped dripping.

She turned, wondering if she should take the candle back to her room.

Whack.

Y/n blinked, wincing. What was that? She made her way back towards the window, peering out. As her gaze wandered out towards the street between the crowded homes, her eyes narrowed. A group of what looked like… higher up males messing around.

Scoffing, she turned away, ready to just go back to bed.

Alas, the males had other plans for her as the moment her attention flitted away, the sounds of howling and loud, obnoxious cheers reached her ears.

Pompous snobs. Rolling her eyes, Y/n decided that her father waking up because these boys who lived on their daddy’s money thought it’d be funny to be loud in the night, when everyone was sleeping, was not worth it. Her father was always so tired, and the few hours of rest he got were precious.

She yanked open the window, leaning her head out. "Hey! Shut it!"

The four males turned to look at her, their eyebrows raised. They all looked young, maybe around four hundred years old. They had expensive looking embroidered jackets on, their hair either slicked back or pulled into a ponytail.

"Oh? And what will you do if we don’t shut it?"

Jaw clenched, she studied the males. Two of them had dark hair, blue eyes, and the build of a teenage mortal. Possibly more into studying arts and literature than being a warrior. One had long, flowy blond hair, his eyes hooded and green like the skin of a toad.

That thought brought satisfaction to Y/n.

The one who looked the oldest among the fae, the one with short length auburn hair, stared straight at Y/n, no emotion on his face. The others had sneers and taunting smirks plastered on their faces, but not this one. He stood stoic, his eyes fixated.

She stared back at him for a few moments, unable to look away. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she somehow knew him. That she was supposed to know him.

But then he turned away, dismissing her. She stared at his back in bewilderment, her temper rising, sleep long forgotten.

Who did he think he was?

She wanted to call him, demanding an explanation. But that would have consequences, and neither she nor her father could afford it. Not to mention that if any of these males were a part of the high lord’s court, it would mean a death sentence or banishment.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Y/n retreated, blowing out the candle and shoving it back in its drawer before she stomped her way back to her room.

Y/n was mad because of the males behaviour, but more than that, she was mad at the fact that she was so bothered by the red headed male turning away from her, like she meant nothing. Like she was less than the dirt on the bottom of his boots.

Fuck him.

Sleep evaded Y/n for the rest of the night, her mind too busy trying to dissect her reaction to the male.

It was unusual for her. She never really cared for what people thought of her, having learned long ago not everyone would be nice to her all the time. But this male. He stayed on her mind, refusing to leave.

Morning came earlier than it should have. And with the first rays of the sun came her father’s booming voice, yelling at her to stop sleeping and to get her ass moving.

It grated on her nerves, and she had half the mind to yell back at him. But she pulled herself together, donning a simple dress. She did not help with the butchering, not really, but she did have to go out every morning to get some extra water from the creek nearby.

"Father! I am leaving!" She called out as she slid on her boots. A grunt was the only answer she got in return.

Early mornings were a precious time, for most of the people only started to leave their houses once the sun was higher in the sky. That meant that Y/n was all by herself at the creek.

Silence, cherished and peaceful, surrounded Y/n, only occasionally broken by the chirps of birds flying overhead in search of food for their younglings. The sun peeking out from behind the distant hills bathed Y/n in a soft warmth, warding off the early autumn chill. She was grateful for the sun’s loving embrace and its company as she settled down at the riverbed, the wet soil under her legs soft as she started to fill up her bucket.

Water gushed around her hand as she broke the water's current, filling up the vessel in her hand.

Crunch.

Y/n’s body locked up, her heart rising into her throat at the sound. No one should have been here. Not at this time. It was too early. Her instincts roared at her to get up, to flee. But she did neither.

She turned her head, glancing over her tensed shoulders to look for the predator that had decided to make her their prey. Because this was a predator, Y/n knew in her bones. Be it fae or animal, it was a predator.

Her eyes wandered, cautiously landing on the immaculately dressed male.

Amber eyes met her own.

Auburn hair. Amber eyes. Embroidered, expensive jacket over a silk tunic and tailored pants.

The male from the previous night stared back at Y/n, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

"Think I lost my way." He called.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. There was no way he didn’t follow her.

"What do you want?" Y/n questioned, getting her feet under herself, trying her best to not have her back facing him.

A corner of his mouth lifted. "Nothing, really." At her skeptical expression, he chuckled. "Did you have a good night of sleep last night?"

Y/n narrowed her eyes. "Is that all you came here for?"

He took a step forward, grass bending under his boots. Y/n took a step back instinctively, a lump rising in her throat. Muscles rolled and moved to try and accommodate it, but swallowing did not help as he continued to come closer.

"No. That is not all." Y/n glanced behind her, realising she stood at the very edge of the bank. One step was all it would take for her to tumble back into the water, and she’d rather be yelled at than drown in front of him.

"I wanted to make it up to you."

Y/n blinked. "I… what?"

He smirked, barely inches between them when he next spoke. "Did you not hear me the first time?"

Blood rushed to Y/n’s face. Now that he was so close, she could make out the shadow of a beard on his face, like he hadn’t shaved in days.

"I don’t understand how you are going to get me back my sleep."

His head tilted to the side, animal like. "How old are you, little fawn?"

Her chin lifted, refusing to budge under the intense gaze of the predator. "Twenty three."

The corner of his lips lifted higher, and for a moment, Y/n could not help but stare.

Eyes flitted away after a moment, realising she had been staring. "Twenty three? You’re basically a child."

Muscles rolled in her neck, then she met his eyes. "And?"

He shook his head, leaning back. "Let me make it up to you, beautiful. Meet me at the town square at sunset."

She blinked. "Why would I do that?"

He smirked. Shrugged, his jacket moving with the movement of his wide shoulders.

Then he turned, and stalked away, leaving her gaping at his back.

What just happened?

She did not have the answer to that question, but she did know she was not going.

Quickly, she composed her thoughts and set to filling up her bucket again, already dreading the scolding she would receive from her father because she took too much time to return home.

"Was he at least rich?"

Y/n froze, her fingers curling tighter into the sponge she had been rubbing against the pot. "What?"

"The male who wasted your time this morning. Was he one of the elites?"

Cold eyes turned to look at the weathered butcher, his eyes fixed on the meat he continued to whack with his knife. But Y/n knew his attention was fixed solely on Y/n and her answer.

Blowing a collected breath out of her nose, Y/n turned back to the pot she’d been scrubbing. "Maybe. How would I know?"

He scoffed. "Don’t play coy with me, girl. Do you want to keep all his riches for yourself?"

Eyes wide, she turned back to stare at him. "What do you mean by that?"

"You cannot expect me to believe your lies. A male just approached you out of nowhere, talked a little, then walked away, with no ulterior motives in mind?" Y/n simply stared at his back, and he finally dropped his knife, meeting his daughters eyes. "He obviously wanted to do something with you. He either wants to marry you, or he wants to use you for one night. Surely you can’t be that naive?"

Huffing, Y/n placed the pot back in the sink, throwing the sponge next to it and washed off her hands, trying to calm down her rising temper as she watched the soap suds vanish slowly.

"I’ll be outside."

"Go wherever you want, girl, as long as I get my share of money!"

Her eyes closed, a frustrated sigh puffing out from between her lips. Deciding that she needed more than the fresh air outside her walk, she began walking towards the town square mindlessly.

Not realising that it was almost sunset.

The square was busy, filled with males returning home from work and people who just wanted to have an early start to their nightly activities. The area was so crowded that Y/n debated turning around, but the thought vanished when she remembered why she was here in the first place.

To get away from her father. Maybe sit with some older ladies and have a chat.

"Going somewhere?"

Y/n glanced over her shoulder.

The male from the river side.

Her eyes widened, realising what time it was. He simply smirked and stalked forward, the crowd automatically parting for him. He didn’t even seem to realise that there were people around him.

"You look surprised." He mused.

Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe because I am?"

He chuckled. "You look like you’re in need of a distraction."

Y/n turned away. "Do I?"

He hummed. "I can provide a distraction."

She shot him an incredulous look. "No thank you."

She turned away, beginning to make her way through the crowd again. But… 

Maybe it would be a good idea to indulge him. At least for some time. Maybe she could even figure out why his nonchalant attitude bothered her so much.

"You know what? Humour me…"

A smirk spread across his lips, the first genuine expression Y/n had seen on him. "Beron."

Her brows furrowed. She knew she had heard that name somewhere.

There could be so many more males named Beron, She tried to reason with herself.

"Hmm. Let's see what you can do, Beron."

Being a four hundred year old heir was a hard job, one Beron excelled at. His father was a fucking monster, but at least Beron could forget about the asshole when he snuck out with the bastards who kissed his ass every chance they got. Beron knew that they did not really care for him. No, they just wanted a shiny title once Beron became high lord.

Beron never really considered himself a nice male. He knew he was going to turn out just like his father, and if he was being honest, he was fine with that fact. He had no interest in becoming a better person.

But then Y/n pushed her way into his life. Or maybe he simply dragged her in. All that mattered was her, and nothing more.

She was a shiny gem.

Beron was a dragon.

And he wanted her in his collection, no matter what it took. Beron would gladly take all the torture his father made him go through if it meant at the end of the day he would get to see her. Maybe fuck her. But she made him come alive. And for the first time in all his four hundred years of existence, Beron wondered.

Wondered what a family with her would look like. Maybe he would become a better man.

But if there was one thing Beron wasn’t, it was delusional. He knew it was all wishful thinking. She was a nobody, a poor butcher’s daughter from the lower clans of autumn court. He was destined to take over ruling the whole court. They were never meant to be.

But in the cover of night, within the safety of the four walls of his room and under his blanket, Beron let his thoughts run wild, letting himself imagine a world where his father was a better man.

Of course, his hope was dwindling down day by day.

Particularly after his run in with his father that morning.

"You summoned me?" Beron muttered, his eyes lowered in deference.

The high lord hummed. "Come in." Lungs expanding, Beron made his way to stand in front of his father. "I will save us both time and get to the point."

Beron blinked.

"The peasant girl you’re fucking. I don’t want anyone finding out."

His blood chilled, eyes flying to fix on the relaxed figure of his father. "What?"

The high lord snorted. "You think I am naive? dumb? Listen closely, Beron. You are most likely going to be chosen by the magic to be the next high lord. I don’t want you marrying a good for nothing peasant. Fuck around, sure. But if I were you, I would make sure she did not fall pregnant." He finally looked at his son. "Oh and, start preparing. I have set up a marriage for you which will be beneficial for everyone."

Nothing ever surprised Y/n. And if it did, she was good at hiding it.

It was a surprise to Y/n when Beron showed up at her house every day since then, but he was one of the elite families in the autumn court. So that meant he was never denied anything in his life, so it came as no surprise when he thought he was entitled to her time.

But what did surprise Y/n when she actually wanted to spend time with him. So she just went along with his plans, often spending time together sitting at the cliff sides, watching the sunset.

He just… pulled her in. He enchanted her, and she was grateful he did. He had bewitched her, body, mind, soul. And she never wanted to go back to what she was before he came along.

She was aware that their union was improbable. Maybe impossible. But no one could fault her for being hopeful.

The crisp autumn air swirled around Y/n as she made her way to the hut outside of the town's borders, invisible to the fae passing because of the cover of trees around it. Shivers wound up her spine, leaves crunching under her boots. She pulled the scarf around her neck tighter, already anticipating wrapping herself around her lover when she got to his secret home.

He had revealed the place to her late one evening, handing her the keys to it. Later Y/n found out he had brought the place specifically so the two of them could meet in peace.

Moments passed in silence, only broken by her steps and the movement of the trees, animals and spirits around her in the forest. She hurried on, eager to tell Beron about the kitten that had started following Y/n around the previous day, only slowing down when the wooden structure came into view.

Along with it came dread.

Why, she did not know.

The surroundings were eerily quiet, like even the wind was holding its breath.

Confusion dug its claws in, along with doubt and fear. Was Beron home?

The door creaked open, and she tiptoed inside, a resounding click echoing behind her. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside, she stopped breathing.

What happened here?

The whole interior of the house looked like a storm had been inside. Shards of glass, cutlery, plants, wood pieces littered the ground, a dark stain covering a small area on the opposite wall. Hell, even the dining table was upended.

Her heart slowed, then resumed its hard pace. "Beron?" The sound of the name was shrill, panic evident as she discarded the basket in her hand next to the door, running deeper. "Beron? Are you home?"

Crash.

And then silence.

The door to the bedroom was cracked open, and the closer Y/n got, she could hear heavy breathing from the other side of the wood. Steps slowed, air rushing in despite the barrier in her throat as she peeked inside.

The first thing she noticed was the blood.

A lot of blood.

Dripping from his fist as he stood there, staring at the shattered glass at his feet.

"B- Beron?"

Wild, primal eyes met hers, mad intent in them. Fear started to seep into her blood the longer she stared back at him. And if she hadn’t been watching him so intently, she would have missed his whispered words.

"I’m getting married."

Ice. So cold, so numbing, took over any other emotion in her body, overriding her senses.

"Oh," deep breath, "well. Congratulations then."

And with that, Y/n turned away, ignoring his incredulous laugh echoing through the hollow walls that surrounded her.

"Go on, run away! Everyone does."

His words followed Y/n all the way to her home, haunted her all night. That laugh, the crack in his voice, the emotions that ran rampant in his eyes. All of it kept her up. Pained her, dug its claws into her heart and ripped her apart from the inside.

It felt like someone had cut open her body and lit a fire to her organs.

And she deserved it.

She hurt all night long, the tears running down the sides of her face and back into her hair burned too, like acid. But growing up in the lower parts, she was used to ignoring all pains. That's what people did when there were things to be done.

Ignore the pains during the day, cry about it at night. But keep it all inside, don’t let anyone find out.

So when the sun’s rays broke in through her windows, she made herself get up. Got changed. Stared at herself in the mirror until she was sure there were no cracks.

And then she went about her day, ignoring the shards of her broken heart that poked at her flesh.

Just like she had ignored the shiny, golden string that tied her to Beron.

The females had been whispering. Everyone around Y/n seemed to know what was going on. She could not be quite sure what they were talking about, but from an overheard conversation between two housewives at the town square, Y/n drew the conclusion that the high lord had passed.

And the heir was going to take over soon. He was also getting married in a few hours in the sacred temple in the middle of the town, and anyone was free to come see and give their blessings. As Y/n had expected, her father jumped at the opportunity to even be breathing the same air as the elites.

Y/n knew he also wanted to go and see if he could find a male willing to pay in exchange for Y/n’s hand.

"Y/n! We will miss the wedding! Can you be any slower?"

Deep breaths. She reminded herself as she fixed her skirts, eyes fixed on the mirror. When she deemed herself fit to be presented, she turned.

Her father looked livid as he stood outside the house, and Y/n knew a tantrum was on its way. But to Y/n’s surprise, he turned and walked away, leaving her to run after him to catch up.

The air was unusually humid the closer they got to the clearing in the forest where every high lord had held important events.

It seemed like everyone had come to see the new high lord get married. Every few moments, an elbow would hit Y/n in the back, in her ribs. Anywhere, really.

It was by the time that she was sure that her skin was going to bruise that the high lord came into view.

And Y/n’s lungs turned into rock, refusing to expand to let air in.

Amber eyes surveyed the crowd, landing on hers with unnatural precision.

Eyes prickling, Y/n watched him glance at his bride, who nodded along to the priestess, before returning to her.

A silent, long moment passed. And then his eyes widened, shining with so much emotion. She had never seen him this bothered.

And finally, the empty, cold void that had been on the other side of the golden string that had laid dormant in her chest filled, light and fire filling her chest.

But Y/n turned her head away.

She was not someone he should have even talked to in the first place. She was far beneath his level. He would not forfeit his throne for her. And she could not forfeit the simplicity of her life for him.

They were simply not meant to be.

And the light that had just reached her slowly diminished, the life going eerily quiet. She knew she hurt him, but she could do nothing to fix him, even as her chest started filling with numbness, anger and resentment pouring in from the other side.

With one last glance, Y/n sprinted away, back to the little hut she shared with her father.

She would never be able to forget that look on his face. The hrd angels that seemed accentuated by the weeks worth of stubble on his jaw, the fury that seemed to age him another century.

But they were never meant to be.

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#beron vanserra #beron x reader #high lord beron #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fandom #acotar writing #a court of thorns and roses

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Writing prompt (It’s silly)

- They sit down and TALK (while cuddling maybe). Stede explains what happened that night, and Ed explains what happened that day (was it at daytime? I don’t remember. But it’s izzy’s confrontation. That turned depressed ed into Kraken (and also depressed) ed )

““You don’t have to tell me or anything- I just- I’d just like to know what happened. The night you…”

Abandoned me was left unsaid”

They thank each other for being sincere at the end, ed feeling particularly guilty for leaving the crew at an island and throwing Lucius overboard.

I just want them to sort it out, to know the full story. Stede to tell ed he ended up faking his own dead in the most dramatic way possible to be back with him. And Ed to tell stede how it was when he first went back to the revenge, just curled up on bed and crying

I love heavy dialogue fanfics, sue me

LOVED this one! It wound up being one of my personal favorite fics I wrote for my birthday! <3

“Was it the kiss?”

Stede paused, his fingers stilling in Ed’s hair. He might’ve been close to drifting off, before Ed had to open his mouth. “Hm?”

Ed had to take a moment, push down the urge to leave this conversation for an easier time. They were trying to get past that. Talk it through as a crew of two, Stede was saying. And Ed had been thinking about this all fucking day, ever since Stede woke him up with a smiling kiss.

“I, uh,” he said, humming softly when Stede’s fingers started right back up in his hair. They’d taken to going to bed a full hour early, lately, just so they could cuddle and chat, and Ed never felt safer than he did just like this, his head pillowed on Stede’s chest. They could talk. He would be okay. “I was just wondering. Y’know, that day. Was it the kiss that made you panic?”

“Ah,” Stede said softly. “No. No, Ed, I promise it wasn’t the kiss. I loved the kiss.”

“Okay,” Ed mumbled.

Stede offered no further elaboration, instead moving his hand down to scritch lightly through Ed’s beard in a very obvious ploy to distract him. That could be the hard part about talking it through as a crew of two. Stede was a slippery motherfucker.

Tough luck. Ed could multitask.

He nuzzled into Stede’s hand, eyes closing at the feeling of Stede’s fingers in his beard. “You don’t have to tell me or anything. I just - I’d just like to know what happened. The night you…”

He trailed off. Hadn’t quite thought through where that sentence was going to go, distracted by Stede’s lovely fingers lovingly brushing along his jaw, and the last part, the abandoned me, hung heavy in the air.

“Because, like,” Ed went on, desperate to fill the silence, “if it was something I did, then I’m kinda scared I might repeat it -”

That was it. Fuckin’ bulls-eye. Getting Stede to open up could be like pulling teeth, but if he realized that his silence was making Ed suffer…

“No,” Stede gasped, reaching his other hand away to land on Ed’s side. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and like this, Stede’s hand always rested protectively over the cluster of scars on his tummy. “No, Ed, sweetheart, you didn’t do anything.”

Ed hummed softly, invitingly.

“I don’t want to make excuses,” Stede whispered, his eyes wide in the dark of their bedroom.

“No excuses, but I just want an explanation,” Ed said.

“Well…” Stede let his head flop back against the pillows. “Honestly, Ed, if I’d been woken up, I probably would’ve been there, but -”

“Wait, back up,” Ed said, resting his hand over Stede’s on his tummy. “If you’d been woken up? What do you mean if? I had a guy -”

Stede let his eyes close, like he didn’t want to watch Ed’s face. “That guy never woke me up, Ed,” he admitted, his voice a near-whisper. “It was Badminton -”

“The admiral?” Ed frowned. “What would he - shit, Stede, did he hurt you?”

Stede grimaced.

Ed sat bolt upright in bed, looking down at Stede in shock. “Did he -”

“It’s alright, sweet pea.” Stede sat up, too, taking Ed’s hand, putting it on his chest so he could feel his heartbeat. “Think he was a little pissed. About the whole thing with me killing his brother. He was so worked up, marched me out there at gunpoint -”

“What the shit,” Ed whispered.

“It’s okay,” Stede hurried to say, “because he tripped. Shot himself right in the eye. He was really drunk.”

“Stede, holy fucking shit,” Ed whispered, bringing his hands up to cup Stede’s face, just feel for himself that he was alright. “That’s fucking - shit! You could’ve died!”

Stede frowned, like he was digesting that.

“Oh my God, Ed,” he near-shouted, then. “I could’ve died!”

“Are you just now realizing that?”

“It’s the first time it’s really - fucking sunk in, thanks,” Stede snipped, shaking his head at the cieling. “Holy shit, I almost missed out on…all of this!”

Ed rubbed Stede’s back, trying to help ground him. Thankfully, Stede seemed a bit pissed more than truly rattled, and just mumbled about how Badminton really should’ve been kicked off the base acting like that before he was able to get to him, and…

Was Ed happy that Stede had been held at gunpoint? No. Fuck no. He wished he could bring Badminton back from the dead so he could shoot him personally. But…it was nice to know the context. He didn’t think he’d ever actually been angry with Stede, but it was still easier to swallow the whole thing knowing that Stede had been through something that would’ve made anyone panic.

It meant that it hadn’t been Ed’s fault.

Which led him directly to - 

“Hey, Stede,” Ed realized, shaking Stede’s shoulder. “Do you think what happened with me was your fault?”

Stede paused in the middle of his tirade about poor guard management at the barracks (“really, there was no reason he should’ve been able to march out a registered academy member at gunpoint without us being stopped by some authority”), and he blinked at Ed a bit blankly. “Uh,” he said, “yes?”

“Alright, that’s what I was afraid of.” Ed squirmed a bit. “Can you hold me for this?”

They repositioned, moving Ed between Stede’s legs so he could lay with Stede’s arms around his back and his head resting on Stede’s wonderful soft tits. The world was better from this vantage point.

“You really don’t have to get into any of it,” Stede told him, resting a hand on Ed’s cheek.

Ed nuzzled into his palm. “I want to,” he said, a bit surprised by how much he meant it. “You don’t deserve to think it was your fault. Just like…”

“Just like how you didn’t deserve to think me not showing up was your fault,” Stede finished with a smile, encouraging.

Ed took a deep breath.

“So,” he began, haltingly, “you know what happened when I got back to the ship?”

Stede frowned. “You pushed Lucius?”

Ed let out a little frustrated huff of a breath. “No, man. I mean, I was upset, but I was okay. I cried a lot, made a blanket fort. Slept in your robes because they smelled like you. I wrote some lyrics. I sang for the crew. I was feeling so much better. I thought they were gonna support me, in not wanting to be pirates anymore.”

Stede’s frown was deepening, a confused line popping out between his eyebrows.

“It’s not an excuse,” Ed hurried to say. “But Izzy, y’know, I said I wanted everyone to call me Edward, and then Izzy came in and told me he should’ve let the English kill me, and he said death was better than how I was acting, and he yelled at me until I tried to choke him - just to get him to stop, I swear - and then he said that was me, the violence was me, and he told me I better watch my fuckin’ step.”

He was rambling, a bit, because Stede had gotten very still and very quiet.

“Stede?” Ed prompted, nudging him a little.

“You’re telling me,” Stede said, his voice quivering with an anger Ed was a bit thrilled to realize wasn’t directed at him, “that he did that and I mourned his death? I let everyone blame you for what happened with his leg? Fuck, Ed, I would've shot him in both legs my fucking self, if I'd known! I just let him walk around my ship and -”

“Hey, hey, babe!” Ed rested his chin on Stede’s chest. “It’s okay, he got better -”

“Holy shit.” Stede dragged a hand over his eyes. “You had to interact with him - he came into our bedroom and opened the curtains on us in bed, after he did that to you.”

Ed frowned. “That’s - it’s okay, he was just being Izzy.”

“It’s not okay!” Stede shook his head emphatically. “You must’ve felt so unsafe -”

“I didn’t,” Ed promised. “I didn’t, because you were there.”

Stede let his breath out, long and slow.

“It doesn’t excuse what I did,” Ed mumbled, deciding to play with Stede’s chest hair instead of meet his eyes any longer. “And I feel awful for the crew. I shouldn’t have pushed Lucius. It wasn’t right, to take it out on them.”

Stede, apparently, had not moved on. “If I were you, I would've eaten his toes myself, just to really drive home the point.”

Ed snorted. “Babe.”

“I’m serious, Ed.” Stede held Ed’s face, making him meet his eyes. “Be sorry for the crew all you want. They’re okay. But you did not deserve that - do you think Buttons can bring people back from the dead? I’d like to have a word with someone.”

“Stede.” Ed let his body relax, curling around Stede’s. “Y’know, I wasn’t planning on giving you visions of bloodlust.”

Stede huffed. “You deserve the bloodlust.”

That was an idea, that Ed was worthy of the protection. Ed tabled it for later.

“Anyway,” he said, forging bravely ahead, “the point was - it wasn’t your fault.”

Stede blinked. Looked at him. Blinked again. 

“Oh,” he said, then. “I mean, it didn’t help -”

“Did not help, no.”

“But it wasn’t…” Stede nodded. “It wasn’t all me.”

“Wasn’t primarily you. Wouldn’t have happened at all if it had been just you.”

“Huh,” Stede said. “That’s…good to know.”

It was. It was good to know that it hadn’t been Ed’s fault, for Stede to know that it hadn’t been his.

“Life’s a dick,” Ed shrugged, figuring that was really the best way to sum it all up. “Hey, uh, if you don’t mind me asking - how did you leave Barbados? If you went back to your wife?”

“Oh!” Stede cuddled Ed close, his face breaking out into a smile. “Ed, you would’ve loved it! It was amazing - so, it all started when my ex-wife tried to stab me in the earhole with a skewer…”

Ed laughed and gasped through Stede’s story, and something in him felt quiet, for the first time in a long time. He still thought he had more amends to make. He still felt awful for the crew. But the whole world felt lighter.

Ed snuggled close to his boyfriend, and the world felt easy.

#ofmd fic #pccp's birthday fics

[twstfanblog]

This is a long ask, but how do you think Malleus, Yuu, Jamil, and Azul will navigate through parenthood? Would all of the kids call the boys a certain name (example, JJ calling Jamil dad bc duh, and calling Azul and malleus something else that is similar to the word "dad" or do all the kids call each other's dad's by their name?

Do all of the kids get to see each other regularly? I'm wondering if multiple times throughout the year everyone manages to stay at Malleus's Castle to spend time together. Kind of like in the mother's day post where Malleus convinced Azul and Jamil to stay an extra two weeks lol.

Yuu was pretty up front about the fact she was about to be the "cool mom". She did not trust herself to properly discipline their children because all she got growing up was being hit as a form of punishment.

It's kinda of a hot potato situation living wise once the kids are out of the baby stage; the children just kinda rotate which house they're staying in for that week before fully settling with their bio dads in their teens.

The kids have a system of bio dads are simply called their preferred version of dad. Non bio dads get their last names added to the title. So JJ would call Azul and Malleus, Papa Grotto and Papa Draconia respectfully. The triplets have a habit of using Father most of the time.

The twins call Azul Daddy and Yuu hates it XD

The kids do get to see each other regularly, either for birthday parties or simple visits their parents make sure they're properly endeared to each other.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #malleus draconia #jamil viper #azul ashengrotto #fankids #twst fankid #valencia rambles

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Quick doodle for Blitzmeyer day because I love her

"It's not your responsibility to save everyone, you know."

I think Meredith's most underrated trait is that in addition to being a brilliant, unhinged, neurodivergent, queer-coded scientist icon, she is such a genuinely kind person and good friend. She thought it was weird she was Ballister's emergency contact, but she didn't shame him for it. He destroyed her life's work, but she saw how hurt he was and instead of being cruel about it, which she'd have had every right to be, she says "I hear you're some kind of a hero, now" (this coming from the person who hadn't even "heard" he was the most notable terrorist of the decade until a week prior) and assures him that he saved a lot of people, even if he couldn't save everyone.

She has much more grace and empathy and kindness than people give her credit for and for such a small character she is so wonderful. Happy birthday, Doc.

#nimona #meredith blitzmeyer #blitzmeyer appreciation day #nimona fanart #nimona graphic novel #yywihh art

[andy-wm]

Do you think Jikook took a break from each other last year? What do you think was going on?

Hey Anon, i know you asked this a couple months ago. Sorry that i took a long while to answer ... i thought about it a lot. Not because I was thinking about if they took a break, but because i was questioning what would prompt a person to think they did.

Maybe you didn't see all the things i saw?

If you did see it all, maybe you're more sceptical than i am?

I wondered if maybe I am too much of a romantic, or if i was seeing things that aren't there.

Did I read too much into all those livestreams JK did to hype Jimin when he was promoting FACE last year? All the times he watched the promos with ARMY and then watched the youtube compilation of BTS teasing Jimin, and then sang Jimin's songs.

Was i too taken in by the comments back and forth on Weverse last year when Jimin was recording his music shows, or the fact that Jimin went live in the car on the way home from Inkigayo and spent the entire trip chatting to JK as though ARMY wasn't there.

Did I misconstrue the fact that Jimin and Jungkook made TWO trips overseas together last year without any apparent reason. (Yes there are rumours about a camping trip and other content but that seems like an excuse rather than a reason )

Did i misunderstand JK's visit to Jimin's dance practice, or the glum comments jimin made in his live about JK working too hard, or the fond way JK spoke about Jimin on Suchwita?

Did i see too much significance in JK begging Jimin to do a livestream with him while naked, in bed, and flexing his biceps shamelessly?

Did i place too much emphasis on the fact the JK sang backing vocals for Jimin's hidden track on his album, in a song that was very clearly a love song for ARMY.

Did i overestimate the importance of the half naked photo of the two of them that Jimin posted for Jungkook’s birthday?

Did i misunderstand what made JK come directly from his workout to join Jimin’s Production Diary viewing, or that JK was completely prepared to sit there next to Jimin if he was needed (or to leave if he wasn't).

Did i get carried away by the idea of them spending Chuseok together on a yacht?

Did i jump to conclusions about them enlisting in the military as companions and taking a post in one of the most inhospitable and dangerous units just so they could be together?

To be objective, and because I'm the first to admit that we honestly dont know what they do when there's no camera around, i will say maybe they did have a break. It's entirely possible they spent a few days apart. Maybe even a week?

All couples need time apart. All people need personal space and the opportunity to be alone with their thoughts.

It's part of having your own identity.

It's heathy to have time to rest and recharge no matter how much you love someone.

Don't ever be afraid of having your own space, and time to yourself, anon! It will make the time you spend with your partner even more rewarding 💜

#jeon jungguk #park jimin #jikook #kookmin #국민 #true love

[ao3komorii]

Lonely Regrets (Yone/Reader)

Yone is finally done! Taking a break and then next will be Heartsteel Sett. Hope everyone enjoys :)

----

There was so much blood.

Your parents’ empty eyes stared back at you, limbs twisted unnaturally, bodies broken. Blood like a red lake covered the entire ceremonial chamber, the blood of every member of your village spilled for only you left to see.

“Oh, dear daughter of sorrow,” the twisted black shadow above you purred as it grew only larger, its blurry shape hard for you to make out its form in any detail. “Your soul will be the most delicious.”

So then why were you still alive?

You had watched with wide eyes as the shadow had grown, had overtaken all of the white walls with its deep black, before it had seemed to snap, disappearing and leaving you to your world of red.

You had thought that day would be boring, filled with expectations you had lived your life being ready to meet. Your ascension to official leader-to-be of your village, a position promised to you as the only child of the current leader. Your eighteenth birthday was supposed to be a joyous day for the village, but now the only person that remained of the village was you.

When your parents had told you of a surprise, a deal they had made to ensure the prosperity of the village and the strength of your leadership, you had assumed they had bartered a marriage partner for you, or made a deal with a nearby village. A deal with a demon had been so far out of the realm of possibilities that you never could have thought of it in a million years.

It was clear the demon had not intended to keep to any terms as it rose from the floor, a dark shape of too many teeth and eyes… and took the heads off of half of the village in one cruel swipe. Your parents had been terrified, outraged, but all they heard in response as they screamed their last screams was the demon’s laughter, the last sound they ever heard as they too fell to the ground in pieces.

But why had it left you alive? The demon’s words spoken to you in that room that stunk of blood still haunted you, even ten years later, even now that you knew more about the demonic azakana.

Demons with endless hunger who preferred to slowly feed on a person’s negative emotions before consuming them entirely, and then onto the next victim. Each azakana had its own preference for certain emotions, whether it be rage or despair or loneliness. And as someone who had experienced all three, you had seen and killed more than your fair share of azakana since that day, but you had never found the one that killed your village.

You had been a walking azakana magnet for years before a solution had prowled its way into your life.

You had been staring down a tempting abyss, a cliffside overlooking a pit of thorny spikes so far below, an easy way out that would be so much simpler than continuing your lonely life of pain. Just a few steps, and you would no longer have to carry the mantle of last of your village, no longer have to fight for your life every other week, you would just be nothing.

It was then that you sensed something behind you, turning sharply with your daggers at the ready to see a four-legged jagged shape of darkness with a bone white demonic mask on its face, its hungry eyes focussed in on you.

You had prepared for a fight, but staring at the unmoving azakana, you momentarily wondered if it would be better to just give up, to stop living this life of loneliness and pain and go fully into the dark.

Through your contemplation, the azakana stayed still and silent, and if not for its horrific shape, you could almost have thought it was just a curious animal, but this one was seeking your soul rather than some scraps of food.

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe the silent stare, unknowing of your past, only seeking to fill its belly, that made you open your mouth instead of its flesh with your blades. Nobody understood, nobody would be able to hear your story without sprinting away from you. And nobody would ever hear your story if you died here. With those thoughts in mind, you spoke, quietly regaling the animal-like azakana of your pain, your loss, of every emotion you felt since that day.

You didn’t know how long you had been talking for, just that by the end, you were on the ground, tears soaking your face as you stared at the still-silent azakana through tear-blurred eyes as your words turned fully into sobs.

It was then that the silent azakana moved, slinking towards you like a predator. Your chest felt tight, but not with fear, instead feeling the full weight of all of your bad memories still heavy on your heart, hardly a surprise given how emotionally repressed you had been for so long.

Closing your sore eyes, you expected your death to come, but were instead surprised by the brush of thick fur against your skin, opening your eyes to see the azakana nuzzling its masked face against your side, a deep red glow surrounding its body.

You were stunned, having never seen anything like this with any azakana you had encountered in the past three years. The interaction was almost petlike, if you had a demon for a pet.

You slowly began to notice that the longer you sat there with the azakana’s head in your lap, the lighter the ache in your chest felt. It was as if your feelings were flowing into the beast, but instead of feeling numb and close to death, you just felt… better. Better than you had felt since your village had died.

Many would call it a parasitic relationship, but you preferred to look at it as symbiotic. You occasionally fed him your worst emotions, and you could get through your days unhunted by azakana, instead able to become the hunter yourself.

The azakana was only able to talk as much as an animal could, and you had named him Kosen, after a gentle tiger in your favorite bedtime story that your mother had told you as a child. You could hardly pass through towns with an azakana at your side, so Kosen had been taking to staying in the form of a white tiger and that was how you had lived for the past seven years.

It was easier to be around people now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to settle down in one place, still afraid to develop any relationships only for them to be taken away. You had contacts all over Ionia, but you were the strange woman with the magic daggers and the tiger, not someone anyone could call a close friend, aside from Kosen.

And now, many years after your first azakana encounter, you and Kosen were on the trail of a firey azakana who had left too many charred corpses behind to possibly be a coincidence.

You had finished bathing in the spring you had come across on your way to the next village, redressed and intent on scouting the area for anything edible, Kosen stubbornly remaining in the water, as he always did whenever you found a body of water big enough for him to lounge in.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a real tiger,” you commented with a huff of laughter, Kosen choosing to shake his body and spray you with water in response. “Okay, well you had better be done by the time I get back. We have a lot more walking to do if we want to get to Tevasa by tomorrow.”

Kosen huffed, turning his back to you in his usual show of brattiness; at least he wouldn’t blow his cover if anyone happened to stumble upon the scene, as unlikely as that was this deep in the forest in the middle of nowhere.

You preferred the days of solitude to the days spent in the cities anyways, always worried deep down that every person you met could look inside you and see all the lives that had been lost because of you.

You had overheard the occasional comment about your now-dead village, usually from town gossips. They talked about the massacre of the entire town, their suspected culprits ranging from Noxians to dragons. It was hardly surprising that you had yet to hear someone mention demons as the suspected culprits. After all, azakana were the things of children’s stories, creatures that would come to devour bad children who didn’t listen to their parents, and you and Kosen would continue to do your best to keep it that way.

The pickings in this area were disappointing, as you had expected. It was a good thing Kosen only fed off of other azakana and feelings, as there was definitely not enough game in miles to sustain a real tiger.

With a sigh, you crouched down beside a bush of berries you knew were safe to eat, but were always too sour at this time of year, so it would be an unsatisfying dinner for you, but far from your first. Popping one in your mouth, you winced at the unpleasant taste, almost tempted to just toss them back at the bush, when a sound pierced the air.

You immediately knew it was Kosen, the sheer panic in the cry enough to startle you to your core. You had heard his growls, his roars, but you had never heard him make this sound before, like he was being torn apart.

The sour berries fell from your grasp, left behind and forgotten as you began to sprint back towards the spring, daggers at the ready, having no idea what you were running into but just knowing that Kosen needed you.

You emerged back into the clearing, spotting Kosen, now out of the water, growling ferociously as he continued to lose ground to a strange figure with two glowing swords who seemed determined to take his life.

Without a word, you darted in, blade aimed for the man’s neck with deadly precision. It was quite rare for you to end up in fights with humans, given you travelled with a large tiger, but you wouldn’t allow this man to hurt Kosen, so you struck without mercy. If Kosen’s cry was anything to go off of, then this man was clearly a threat to be taken seriously.

You knew you were silent, your moves practiced over years, but just as your blade was about to cut into him, the man vanished, moving faster than you could see. Frowning, you shifted around, still able to sense the attacker in the trees nearby, unmoving.

Turning your head back, you took in Kosen, who quickly came to your side, looking roughed up, but not grievously wounded. “Are you okay?”

The azakana growled affirmatively, his tail lashing in frenzied strokes behind him as he too attempted to survey the trees for whoever had attacked him.

Whoever he was, they seemed content to simply watch you from the shadows of his hiding spot. You could try to flee, but something about the man didn’t sit well with you, something telling you that he would not hesitate to cut you down if you tried to run. You were in unprecedented territory here, and it unnerved you deeply. Your best shot here would be to confront the man directly.

“Who are you?” you demanded coldly. “This tiger is my companion. Look elsewhere if you intend to hunt game.”

“Your companion is no tiger,” came the man’s reply, his deep voice sounding strangely sad. “And if I had found you any later, you would be prey for its true form.”

His words immediately put you on edge. Besides their direct victims, you had never met anyone who was aware of azakana, much less could recognize one in its disguised state. That couldn’t be what was happening, could it? But how else were you supposed to interpret those words?

“His true form is none of your business,” you spit viciously, eyes darting over the trees, trying to pick out his location. “We are passing through this area in peace. I know no clan has dominion here.”

“A human aiding an azakana?” he sneered in response. “To side against your own kind and feed them to demons… truly despicable.”

His words made you angry, the man clearly feeling free to judge something he knew nothing about.

“You’re quick to judge for someone who won’t even show his face,” you hissed, Kosen snarling in support at your side.

There was a long silence before a shift in the air, and then the man was before you, swords still held at the ready but making no move to attack, which gave you the chance to get a good look at him, his appearance bringing a quiet gasp to your lips.

He wore the shape of a man, his shirtless torso well-muscled, arms and stomach wrapped with bandages despite no injuries being apparent in his movements. His hair was long, longer than you had ever seen on a man, dark hair reaching his lower back. But none of his features caught your attention like his face, one eye hidden under the shadows of the mask he wore, the dramatic shape of the mask that sloped down over his nose putting you on alert immediately, its appearance distinctly azakana in nature.

Your alarm only deepened when you looked to his belt, seeing a variety of masks left behind by dead azakana strung along his belt. He didn’t seem to be an azakana himself, the air missing the usual crackling of energy that denoted the presence of one of the demons, but if not, then what was he?

“You wear the face of an azakana but call me a slave to one?” you spoke harshly, refusing to lower your weapons as you glared at the mysterious man.

“I understand the dangers of azakana better than most,” he spoke, his uncovered eye impossible to see even as he took a step closer. “That demon will bleed villages dry if left alive. I have heard of azakana taking on human guises, but never human shields. I will strike you down regardless if you place yourself in my path.”

So a fight it was then. But you would not allow him to make false statements about Kosen.

“He is an azakana,” you admitted. “But he’s also my friend. And the only thing he bleeds dry is his own kind… and me.”

Your admission seemed to surprise and disgust him in equal measure, his frown an obvious indication of his distaste. “Then it is a parasite.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” you hissed, sheathing your daggers and reaching down to touch Kosen’s head, the faux-tiger nuzzling against your palm. “But Kosen is no danger to anyone who doesn’t attack him first. And I won’t let you kill him just because of what he is.”

“I would call you ignorant, but you recognized my mask,” he admitted somberly. “And yet I find it difficult to take you at your word. It would be safer for Ionia if I were to cut you down here.”

“And I’m supposed to just trust someone like you has Ionia’s best interests at heart?” you pressed, insulted that you and Kosen were being cast as villains you knew you weren’t. “I’m supposed to believe you wear the mask of a monster but aren’t one? Maybe we should be cutting you down for the sake of Ionia.”

Kosen growled beside you, prowling forward to take a protective stance in front of you, fangs bared at the stranger.

The man said nothing in response, the silence stretching out, pricking against your skin. You had no desire to kill this man, not if he wasn’t an azakana, so you would give talking one more try.

“Let us pass, and then you can go and find an actually dangerous azakana to kill,” you insisted. “And we’ll go do the same.”

You knew you weren’t the most eloquent, a life only occasionally interacting with civilization leading to somewhat awkward social skills. But given he started this conversation with swords drawn, he didn’t really seem to be the conversational type either. If you had to fight your way through him, then so be it, because he wasn’t taking Kosen from you.

“You ask me to trust in a demon defying its nature?” he spoke quietly, but his swords did not move.

You didn’t have anything to prove to this strange man, and you were not about to go baring your soul to him just so he would let you live. But at the same time, you wanted to avoid killing him, especially if you shared a common goal, which gave you an idea.

You stepped forward, Kosen staring warily at you, but trusting your judgment. “We’re hunting a fire azakana who we’ve tracked to somewhere around Tevasa. If you don’t believe us, then come with us and see. If you can’t trust my word, then trust my actions. But I won’t let you kill either of us because of your own assumptions.”

The man was silent again, and you chose to act, assuming his silence at least meant he wouldn’t attack you. “Or don’t. But we’re leaving.”

The moment you turned your back, you heard the quiet sound of metal cutting through air as the man sheathed his swords. You didn’t turn, but were secretly relieved that your gamble had not gone as poorly as it could have.

The man easily caught up to you with quiet footsteps, allowing you a closer look at his face.

He was pale, the eye closest to you a deep red, the other covered by his mask, its outline glowing an eerie blue. Beside his open eye was a long-healed scar, crossing from beside his eye to pass through the corner of his lip. You couldn’t decide if he was handsome or not, any beauty in his face equally disturbing given his demonic mask. You knew he wasn’t an azakana, so just what was he?

“So you’re joining us then?” you prompted, looking him in his exposed eye.

He stared solemnly back at you, and you wondered if he knew any other way to be. “Our paths cross… for now.”

“As long as our swords don’t have to,” you remarked, trying to alleviate some of the obvious tension in the air. “Could I at least get your name, if we’re going to be killing azakana together and all?”

A sigh. “…Yone.”

Yone wasn’t much for talking, that much was clear. His footsteps were steady beside yours, but his answers to your attempts at friendly questions were short and evasive. Eventually you gave up, instead choosing to focus your attention on finding a replacement meal for your spilled berries, Kosen eventually tiring of your poor attempt at a search and disappearing briefly, only to come back with a giant flop rabbit clutched in his jaws.

Yone said nothing, merely watching as you paused to set up a quick fire, not really feeling like being poisoned by some undercooked meat, Kosen curling up around the fire, his eyes open and on Yone, as if daring him to try anything.

“Do you want some?” you asked as you rotated the rabbit over the dancing flames.

“No,” Yone answered shortly, and you wondered if maybe he was just being polite.

“I don’t mind,” you pressed with a smile you hoped would reassure him. It felt so awkward to sit here and hog the rabbit all to yourself when you had company. “And Kosen only kills what we eat, so don’t worry.”

“I have never known an azakana to exercise restraint,” Yone commented, clearly still wary of Kosen. “Theirs is a hunger that can only devour.”

“Well he’s been with me for seven years now, and I’m still here,” you protested idly. “I’ve killed enough azakana to know what they’re like, but Kosen isn’t like the rest of them. He saved my life.”

You didn’t feel like elaborating, not to the strange masked man who had told you no more than his name. Though really, it was more likely that habit was kicking in; you had lived for so long with only Kosen to confide in, painful secrets inside you locked closely to your chest. It wasn’t terrible having company who shared your burdens, even as quiet and serious as he was, but you knew that he wouldn’t be around long after he realized that you and Kosen were no threat, so there was little point in getting attached.

You sat in silence other than Kosen’s gentle purring, only slightly broken-sounding to your ears in his imitation of a tame house pet. You knew better than to think he was doing it to aide his own case, the false tiger knowing that his broken purrs always calmed you down. You had thought you were doing okay, but you must not seem great if Kosen felt the need to wordlessly comfort you.

You picked at your dinner, feeling the intensity of the staring contest you knew was going on between the other two members of your group. Kosen was uninjured, but you knew that he would not relax until Yone was long behind you, and who knew how long it would take for the strange man to be convinced that you were not a threat.

Knowing the tension would be better abated sooner rather than later, you pushed your feet harder than usual, making it most of the way to Tevasa, the journey much quieter than it usually was with just Kosen. Maybe you should’ve just taken the fighting option, at least it wouldn’t be so awkward now if you had… unless Yone killed you, that was.

“So how long have you been hunting azakana?” you asked him, figuring you should at least give it another try despite your rusty conversational skills.

Yone looked up from where he sat polishing his sword, seeming to take a moment to consider your question. “I do not know.”

“It feels like that for me too sometimes,” you admitted, settling back against Kosen’s fur. “I’ve killed so many that I’ve lost count.”

“…I still haven’t decided to spare you, you know,” he reminded you, not unkindly, but as if stating a fact.

Kosen growled from behind you, not taking kindly to his statement, but you just felt strangely calm. Danger was your pastime, you rationalized; it had been ever since the last day your village had been alive. Maybe you were more comfortable around danger than safety now, a sad thought to realize, but you would never be able to go back to the you of ten years ago, no matter how badly you wanted to sometimes.

You slept against Kosen’s warm fur that night, as you usually did. You had no idea if Yone had slept at all, as he was up and gazing out into the distance when you woke up.

You were only a few hours walk from Tevasa now, and with how many victims the azakana you were after had left in its wake, you knew you would need to feed Kosen to get him to full strength for the fight to come. You would just have to hope that Yone wouldn’t react poorly to the feeding.

You placed a hand on Kosen’s head, petting his fur with slow strokes, the tiger immediately sensing your intentions, looking up to meet your eyes.

Yone clearly sensed something was wrong, as he stopped his pacing around to assumedly raise an eyebrow you couldn’t see from under his mask at you.

You met his sharp gaze warily, trying to look reassuring. “I have to feed Kosen. It’s safe, I promise.”

“Holding azakana to promises is foolish,” he replied tersely. “But I have resolved to assess your claims for myself.”

Satisfied that he wasn’t likely to interrupt, you braced yourself for the feeding. You really would have preferred to send Yone away for this part, considering you would now have to bare your most vulnerable thoughts in front of the bloodthirsty stranger, but this was to protect Kosen, so you would do what you had to.

Closing your eyes, your hand stilled on his head, knowing that a physical link helped to more easily transfer your feelings to the feline azakana. Beneath your fingers, you felt Kosen shift to his demonic form, his soft fur turning coarse and hard, which told you that he was ready for you to start.

With your eyes closed, you had no way of knowing how Yone was reacting to the situation, but he seemed to be keeping his feelings to himself, so it wasn’t like a visual aid would help you that much. He hadn’t attacked Kosen though, and you supposed that would be as good of a sign to start as you were going to get.

You let out a long, shaky sigh before beginning.

“I can’t see their faces anymore,” you admitted morosely. “Not while they were alive. I try not to think about them because all I can see is their dead faces, their frozen expressions… all I can smell is their blood. I don’t even remember what the sweet buns mom used to make smell like. All I can smell is blood.”

As you talked, you felt your surroundings fade away, and as always, the tears came quickly.

“I forget their voices, but I still remember their screams,” you sobbed, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks, lost in the darkness under your eyelids, the images from that day coming to your mind’s eye as you talked. “It would all be so much easier if I had died that day too, if I was just nothing. If I didn’t have to live like a ghost, never able to see them again. Never able to ask mom for advice, or get a hug from dad on a bad day. All I have left is the screams.”

The more you spoke, the less you cried, feeling calmer as your sadness was eaten by Kosen, the tears drying as you talked, as they always did. Finally, when you felt truly calm, you stopped, opening your eyes to see Kosen, already shifted back into his disguise, kneading his paws into the ground as he felt new strength flow through him.

Reaching a sleeve up, you wiped off what tears remained on your face, feeling emotion return to you, manifesting as nervousness as you looked over at Yone, only to find his visible eye already on you.

“See?” you spoke, waving a wrist at him. “Still alive.”

“I have never known anyone to be brave enough to keep a leech as a pet,” he replied, voice thoughtful, even though his words told you that he still didn’t understand you.

With a tight smile, you stood up, brushing the dirt from your pants as you tried to stamp down your anger before it got to a level you’d have to feed to Kosen again. What were you were doing, trying vainly to prove yourself to a man that had shown you and Kosen nothing but contempt?

“Without him, I’d be dead,” you spoke at last, shocking yourself with the anger that soaked your words, even as you felt it under your skin. “I would have been eaten by an azakana years ago without him helping to keep my emotions steady. Now we’ll be heading to Tevasa if you’re still so insistent on killing us.”

You turned away, stalking off in the direction of Tevasa, Kosen quickly at your side, letting out a smug huff when he reached your side.

“Sorry,” you apologized to him. “I really should’ve said something much sooner.”

Kosen’s reply was a dismissive grunt, telling you that he wasn’t upset with you. You really didn’t deserve the amount of luck you had that day he had found you. Now you just needed to kill the fire azakana so you could get rid of the pest you had attracted and go back to just being you and Kosen.

Yone was predictably silent, but continued to walk with you, his persistence merely annoying to you now.

Neither of you talked until Tevasa came in sight, the small village bustling with activity.

Tevasa was especially small, housing little more than a hundred people, which would make your job easier. This azakana really should have picked a larger village if it was going to have a hope of hiding its next target. It wouldn’t be too hard to pick out a person emotionally damaged enough to be a tasty meal for a demon with so few people to choose from.

Stopping at the far side of the small bridge that led into the village, you turned to acknowledge Yone at last.

“I’m not sure what your process is,” you said, trying your best to sound patient. “But I like to ask around town to see if anyone has suffered any recent trauma, and then we trail them until Kosen detects the azakana making itself known.”

“I have never thought deeply about my methods,” Yone admitted, one hand drifting to his blood red sword as if he needed something to do as he spoke. “I sense the azakana, and then I kill them, ideally before they claim any lives.”

“Sounds like we can work together just fine then,” you said, Kosen snorting his obvious displeasure. “I think I should handle the talking part though.”

“Fine,” Yone acquiesced easily, removing his hand from his sword and striding ahead of you across the bridge, leaving you and Kosen to catch up with him.

You were an eye-catching group, the villagers’ eyes roving over your party as you entered the village, probably wondering if you were here to cause trouble. While the smaller villages were easier to narrow down victims in, they did tend to be more closed-off in terms of information gathering, your equally closed-off companion not likely to be much of a help in that regard.

You looked around, trying to meet a friendly eye, but most of the villagers averted their gazes from you, clearly afraid of the trouble they thought you posed to them. Maybe this hunt was going to be more difficult than you had thought.

“Kitty!”

Just as you began to despair, a high-pitched voice rang out, turning your head to see a small boy break out of his mother’s grasp and run at Kosen, tiny arms outstretched to the tiger.

You felt Yone tense up immediately, turning to face him and quickly shaking your head once. You hoped he would understand and stand down, but he was still too unpredictable. Maybe it was the insistence in your eyes, but Yone merely averted his gaze from yours, watching as the boy made his way over to the faux tiger, his mother too slow to catch him as he reached his arms up to catch Kosen in a hug around his neck.

There were cries of alarm, fear on the mother’s face as she stumbled her way forward, but the tension in the air turned sharply to stunned silence as Kosen leaned down to nuzzle the boy’s head with a loud purr, ruffling his hair and drawing a giggle from the boy.

The boy grinned happily, petting Kosen’s head, the azakana eagerly accepting the attention, not unlike an overgrown puppy. Soon, there was a group of kids happily playing with Kosen, riding on his back and giving him his highly-coveted chin scratches.

The villagers that looked at you with suspicion and fear now watched the scene with fondness. Having seen this situation play out a thousand times before, you turned to Yone, an exasperated smile on your face.

“He loves attention,” you explained, secretly satisfied by just how puzzled Yone looked as he too looked upon the scene.

Eventually, the mothers called their children back, not wanting them to bother the strangers for too long, and Kosen trotted back over to you, throwing a haughty look and huff Yone’s way, clearly having sensed his earlier tension.

“You’re still a demon,” Yone hissed pridefully, clearly refusing to admit defeat so easily.

Leaving the boys to their petty squabble, you approached the first boy’s mother, who noticed you coming and paused her speech on manners to smile awkwardly at you.

“I apologize for Yuten,” she said, bowing her head politely. “I have told him again and again not to bother visitors.”

“It’s okay,” you dismissed gently, Kosen’s display helping to unravel your tension as well. “Kosen doesn’t get chances to play often, so he just eats up the attention.”

“Kosen…” Yuten muttered in awe, the tiger mewling in response, happily accepting a few more pats from the boy as you talked to his mother.

“I was wondering if I could ask you a question,” you broached gently, hoping your rusty social skills would still do the trick. “We’ve been on the trail of a killer, one who seems to target people who have suffered a tragedy. I was just curious if anything strange has happened in Tevasa lately, if you’ve noticed anyone acting strangely.”

The woman looked concerned, and then perplexed, making you doubt that you were going to get any useful information from her.

“We’re a peaceful village,” she said, clearly wracking her brain as she spoke. “There have been some disappointing harvests for trade this year, but nothing like a murderer. Do you really think we’re in danger?”

She glanced worriedly at her son, who was still distracted by Kosen, the direction of her thoughts plain on her face.

“Children should be safe,” you said, leaving out the reasoning behind your words. Children were too young to have developed emotions deep enough to be appetizing to azakana. “But anyone especially alone or emotionally vulnerable would be at risk.”

“They are more likely to strike when their target is alone,” Yone said, surprising you by speaking up. The woman’s eyes flitted nervously to him, clearly somewhat unnerved by his appearance. “And at night. Keep your children close while we do our work and they will be fine.”

The woman nodded, looking nervous, which you couldn’t blame her for, being given the news that there was a murderer in their midst. Clearly in a hurry to get her son inside, the woman wished you luck, telling you to visit the village leader if you wanted more information. Her son was less than enthused to be pried off of Kosen, but obeyed his mother, who stopped every few paces to have hushed conversation with other adults, who then quickly ushered their own children inside as well. You hated stoking fear everywhere you went, but it was necessary.

“To the leader then?” you asked, looking down the street while keeping the woman’s directions playing on loop in your head.

“If we must,” Yone acquiesced, clearly not used to doing things the talking way.

You followed the main road until you spotted a small building with a sloped blue roof, clearly the building you were looking for based on her description.

“I can talk to him alone, if you two would rather stay out here,” you offered, stopping just before the small walkway that led up to the house.

Your suggestion was as poorly received as you imagined it would be, Yone and Kosen staring at each other with blatant distaste.

Kosen was the first to move, trotting past you to the door before turning to Yone, reaching a paw up to groom himself, a clear challenge in his expression.

Yone stared for a moment before sighing in defeat and walking past you as well. “I will not leave you alone to claim any more victims, azakana.”

Smiling to yourself, you followed them to the door, the boys parting to the side to allow you to knock on the door.

The man that came to the door was older, his white hair in a topknot and deep red robes neat. He eyed you with suspicion, likely wondering about the strange company you kept. You were used to it with Kosen, but it definitely didn’t help your case that Yone looked like anything but a friendly face.

Smiling, you fell back to your well-practiced speech. “Hello. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time to discuss a threat in your village. I was hoping to get some information from you to aid in our search.”

“If you’ve any interest in the village coffers, you’re about a day too late,” the man joked, confusing you. You had been accused of swindling before, but that didn’t seem to be the man’s intention.

Clearly noticing your confusion, he gestured behind him “You’re not with him?”

“Him?” you echoed, not really able to see whoever he was referring to.

“Oh, you…” He seemed to come to some realization, taking a quick look around before stepping aside to allow you in.

He looked wary when Kosen followed you in as well, but said nothing, closing the door behind you before speaking, clearly favoring meeting your eyes over Yone and Kosen.

“I had thought you were also sent by the council to help us,” he admitted, looking unsure.

“No, we’re just passing by,” you half-lied. “We’ve been trailing what we think is some sort of creature that preys on the weak and alone, and we were wondering if you knew anyone fitting that description who may be more at risk.”

“I’m not so sure,” he pondered. “We have our outcasts like anyone else, but you should probably talk to the council’s hunter. From what he tells me, there’s a herd of creatures hanging around just waiting to strike. He already killed two of them last night, in fact.”

“Is that so…” you replied, not really knowing what to say to that. There wasn’t a pack of azakana here, was there?

You dismissed the thought as soon as you had it. Azakana didn’t like to share, and the thought of several sharing only a few victims across this part of Ionia was ridiculous. So did that mean that this village was also dealing with a pack of man-eating creatures and a hungry azakana?

“I will fetch him for you,” the leader insisted. “He is our guest while he slays these awful creatures.”

The man then quickly shuffled from the room, leaving you an opportunity to talk to Yone and Kosen.

“He is clearly being lied to,” Yone sneered as soon as the leader was out of earshot.

“Are you sure?” you whispered back, though having your own doubts as well.

“If there is anything else in this village, they are not azakana, and they are none of our concern,” he replied, Kosen letting out a growl of agreement.

You wanted to reply, to insist that while you were here anyways, you could clear out this threat too if it did exist, but you heard two sets of footsteps coming your way and were forced to save the thought for another time.

The man that followed the village leader in was dressed flashily in a bright purple jacket over shiny gray pants, the silver armor sporadically dotting his outfit looking both impractical and illogical for combat. His dark hair was slicked back in a short ponytail, his wrists laden with sparkling silver jewelry.

His eyes were dull with distaste as they roved over your companions before they settled on you and an unsettlingly wide smile appeared on his face.

The man strode towards you, taking hold of your hand before you could stop him, and you were glad you had your gloves on as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

“Didn’t expect to see such a beautiful woman around here,” he spoke flirtatiously, testing your ability to keep up your already terse smile.

You pulled your hand back as the leader spoke up. “Shusho is here on behalf of Ionia’s magical threats council, to rid us of the threat this pack of creatures pose to us.”

Magical threats council? You had been all over Ionia, but had never heard of the organization this man claimed to be from. He clearly wasn’t Kinkou, given their only interest was balancing spirits with nature. Part of you wanted to just ignore the strangeness of his claims; after all, you didn’t know everything there was to know about Ionia, but Yone’s doubts had settled uncomfortably under your skin.

“You’ll understand, of course, that I cannot share the council’s mandated creature removal fee,” Shusho added with a sly smile that only deepened your suspicions that he was some sort of con man, and hardly the first one you had ever encountered. A quick glance at Yone told you that he had not changed his opinion of the man.

“We don’t need payment,” you replied smoothly, used to this question and refusing to allow their leader to believe that you were the same as Shusho, despite the fact that you knew he believed the man had come to solve a real problem. “I was just hoping to discuss another matter.”

“Oh, the outcasts, was it?” the leader hummed in thought. “I’m not so sure myself. If you’re willing to stay the night, I can ask around and see if I can find you some answers by tomorrow.”

“Of course,” you agreed, uncaring of Yone’s opinion on the matter. If he was still intent on following you and Kosen around, then he would have to just put up with one more day here.

“Excellent,” the leader smiled. “We would be happy to have you as guests in our modest inn. We don’t get as many travellers passing by here as we used to.”

You wanted to be polite and refuse, but you did miss the comforts of a real bed and a bath. “Thank you. We should only need the one night if all goes well.”

“If it’s one night, there’s plenty of room in my bed,” Shusho grinned, Kosen growling warningly behind you in response.

The leader laughed good naturedly, as if the sleazy line had just been a joke. “I will inform our innkeeper. Please let me know if you need anything, both of you. I will do anything to keep our people safe.”

Shusho’s face turned calculated, and you quickly took your leave, deciding to later see if you could talk to the leader alone about the predatory council member. Kosen bared his teeth at the man as you passed, Yone simply following silently until you were outside.

“Honorless,” Yone sneered as soon as you were outside.

You let out a loud sigh. “I’ll try to talk to him later without Shusho around.”

Yone wasn’t quite done, staring at the closed door you had just left. “My time hunting azakana has made me forget the monstrous nature of people.”

“Some people,” you insisted. “I know you’re still deciding about me, but we need to find that azakana before it attacks whoever here is its target.”

“And we will,” he confirmed solemnly. “I can sense a bloodlust about this place. The azakana is undoubtedly biding its time before it strikes.”

“Then we have to find whoever it’s after before it does,” you spoke resolutely. You didn’t have time to wait for everyone to ask around and get back to you; you would have to do it yourself.

Talking to the villagers went much in the same way as it had upon first arrival in the village. You talked to the villagers while Kosen tried his best not to look threatening and Yone stood silently behind you, willfully oblivious of how he was undermining your efforts.

Most people had either said they knew nothing or seemed to throw out a name just to get rid of you, making the endeavor thoroughly frustrating. It wasn’t until you got frustrated enough to ask the children until you got a lead.

“Ehnisa’s mom doesn’t leave her house ever since Ehnisa went away,” a boy shrugged, clearly eager to get back to playing with his friends who were waiting nearby with a ball. “My mom says Ehnisa went to see the gods, but I dunno where that is. Can I go now? It’s my turn to throw next.”

“Yes, thank you, you’ve been a big help,” you replied, relief flooding through you at having an actual lead.

After getting directions to the woman’s house, you watched as the boy joined up with his friends to play before turning back to Yone, who you saw was also looking at the boys playing, his eye coming to meet yours as you turned.

For a moment, he had looked almost sad, like watching them playing reminded him of a sad memory. The moment gave you pause, but you certainly weren’t close enough for you to be prying, so you let the moment pass.

“We should probably go find her before it gets dark,” you said, heading off in the direction the boy had said to.

The woman’s house was on the outskirts of the village, which was another bad sign, the area around the home basically deserted. It was a small home, and didn’t look particularly run-down, at least not on the outside, but the strange quiet in the area helped to uphold your belief that you were on the right track.

The three of you made your way to the door, with you taking the lead as usual, knocking firmly on the door.

You could hear some shuffling footsteps from inside the house, but it still took at least a full minute for the door to open up a crack, the silver of space revealing a blue eye on a haggard face.

“Hello,” you greeted, before realizing with dread that you had not gotten her name from the boy, just the name of her daughter, who you had presumed from context was dead. Deciding to press on without mentioning her daughter just yet, you continued. “I was hoping–”

You watched as her eyes darted behind you at your companions, and you reasoned that she was probably scared of Kosen.

You opened your mouth to reassure her, but she was faster, drawing back from the door with fear.

“No,” she gasped shakily. “No men.”

Oh. You hadn’t been expecting that to be her issue with your current company. Looking back, Yone didn’t seem to be bothered by her words, so you tried again, placing a hand on the door.

“Would it be ok if just I came in to talk with you?” you asked gently. “He can wait outside.”

“I… I…” she breathed, eventually nodding.

“Okay,” you replied softly, before turning back to them. “I’ll be fine, but can you two stay out here without fighting?”

“I do not go back on my word,” Yone replied, eyeing Kosen with distaste, the azakana huffing in response, bearing his fangs at Yone.

Well, that was going to have to be good enough for now. Warily eyeing the two one last time, you entered the home behind the woman.

While the exterior of the small house was in a relatively good state, the inside was completely different. It wasn’t dusty, but the air inside had a sour taste to it, and it wasn’t hard to guess why.

Whenever this woman had lost her daughter, she must have lost her will to function as well. The house was in horrible disarray, belongings strewn across the floor, leaving barely a walkable path through the filth.

The path led up to a worn gray couch, which is where the woman had retreated to sit in. She had clearly established a routine, as the seat of the couch looked so sunken in that you wondered how often she left it at all. She looked so small and frail, curled up on herself, staring at you with sad, tired eyes.

“Are you… feeling alright?” you asked gently, choosing to stand instead of take a chance on any of the filthy-looking chairs scattered all around the room.

“How I feel doesn’t matter anymore,” she said, voice dry and cracking. “What do you want? Tell me what I can do to be rid of you so everything can be quiet again.”

If she wasn’t the azakana’s target, sitting there drowning in her own emotions, then you would be astounded. This was always the hardest part, getting the victims to accept your help. Just killing the azakana did nothing but delay the inevitable, you knew that much yourself. And it’s not like anyone else had Kosen to constantly rely on to keep their emotions in check, which meant that your job was often quite difficult. Some people could just not be saved from themselves, no matter how hard you tried.

“How long has your daughter been dead?” you asked, figuring you should try and break through her walls if you were going to get anywhere.

“Too long,” she moaned pitifully. “She should be here, and he should be dead. I should be dead.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” you asked, trying your best to catch her downcast eyes. “I know it’s hard and I want to help you.”

It took another twenty minutes for you to convince her to open up, and through many tears, she told you of her husband, her daughter, her happy life… at least until her husband had taken their daughter on his fishing boat, but came back alone, her resulting grief at the loss of their daughter leading to him leaving her. Her whole life had been destroyed in the span of a week, her pain driving her farther away from everything and everyone until she was little more than a living corpse.

You hated yourself for how clinical you had become in these conversations, years and years of most of your social interactions being hearing stories of the worst moments of people’s lives, but it did help you to keep calm as the woman shared her story.

Finally, it was time for you to say your part, never looking forward to this part of the process. The woman wasn’t looking at you now, her sad, tired eyes trained on an empty chair across the room, one you assumed had belonged to her daughter, given the toys scattered around it on the floor.

“I came here because I think you may be the target of a… creature,” you said, not feeling like this woman was in the right state to hear your tale about azakana. “I’m a travelling hunter, and I know one of those creatures is in the area. Have you noticed anything strange lately? Like hearing voices or things moving around you?”

“I… don’t know,” she answered lifelessly. “I hear her voice sometimes, telling me to come to her, but I can’t find her. I think she’s lost.”

“Your daughter isn’t here,” you spoke quietly but firmly. “You can’t listen to anything you hear. We’ll try our best to find it before it attacks, but you are in very real danger.”

The woman didn’t reply immediately, her head slowly lifting to stare into your eyes, the dark black now consuming her eyes startling you.

“Not as much danger as you, sweet daughter of sorrow.”

“I–” you gasped, blinking rapidly and suddenly realizing that the woman was staring at you with concern in her eyes. Her normal-colored eyes…

“I’ll try to remember that,” she spoke quietly, her tone suggesting that she was repeating herself. “It’s just been so lonely…”

But she… no, you dismissed. The strange words you had thought you had heard were definitely a product of your recent poor sleep. How pathetic were you that this woman was worrying about you instead of herself?

“I understand,” you replied, focussing back in on your task. “I can help calm you down for tonight, and we’ll be back tomorrow to take another look if that’s alright. My tiger will stay here tonight to protect you, so you don’t have to worry.”

“I…” she mumbled, but looked like she wouldn’t protest. “Why me? Why not just leave me to rot like everyone else has?”

“Grief makes people strange,” you replied, though her situation was so different from your own. You had no community left to distance themselves from you, everyone obliterated in one moment. “I think people will be more receptive if you meet them halfway.”

The woman just blinked, and you decided it was probably time for you to go. She clearly needed time to think, so you would regroup with Yone and Kosen first to see what other information you could find. It would do no good to smother this woman who was barely coping as is, especially with Kosen here to watch over her from outside.

You left the home to find Yone and Kosen waiting outside, spaced thirty feet more apart than they had been when you had left them. Kosen got up from his position laying on the grass as soon as he spotted you, rubbing his head against your thigh and receiving a head pat in response.

Yone was slower, pushing back from the tree he had been leaning back against and walking over, Kosen’s tail curling around you in response in a likely show of pettiness from the azakana.

“It’s very likely her,” you said, cutting to the chase. “Her daughter died and it seems like she’s been a shell of a person ever since, but I didn’t notice any signs of an imminent attack.”

“I can’t sense it here either,” Yone admitted, voice sounding frustrated. “It is not like azakana to wait so long.”

“It shouldn’t be long before it strikes,” you said, looking back at the small home, part of you wondering if it would strike now, if your presence here would provoke it, as had happened in the past, but the house remained quiet and still. “All we can do now is be ready for when it does. I’m going to start by asking around to see if this woman had any friends.”

“Friends do not help you kill an azakana,” Yone stated harshly, his thought process so clearly different from your own.

“I know how to kill an azakana,” you snapped back, reaching a hand down to pet Kosen. “I’m just concerned about her afterwards. She needs friends to check in on her, or this is just going to happen all over again, and next time, she’ll be consumed.”

“You cannot protect anyone forever,” Yone shot back, but without malice in his voice. “Some fates cannot be avoided, merely postponed.”

“Then I’ll do that,” you replied. “That’s what we always do. Give them enough of a push to save themselves.”

Yone’s silent stare told you he likely didn’t see the point of your methods, but that was fine. After this azakana was dead, you could go your separate ways and your methods would again be your own business.

“Kosen, I need you to stay here for tonight,” you told the tiger, who predictably was reluctant, nudging your hand with his head with a huff. “I’ll be fine for one night, but I need you here in case something happens. If her emotions get too loud, I need you to calm her down.”

You could feel Yone’s stare and turned your head to return it. “She’ll be safe. I gave you my word that Kosen doesn’t consume souls.”

“I can hardly expect a beast to resist a juicy cut of meat when it swings before his face,” Yone replied, Kosen growling in offence in response to the accusation.

“Alright,” you acquiesced, shrugging your shoulders. “If you want to keep an eye on him, sure. But I think it would be faster if we all split up.”

Yone stared at Kosen for a long moment, the tiger licking his paw, purposefully paying him no mind. You had never seen Kosen be so petty; he certainly didn’t act like this with you, and it was taking a lot for you to not laugh at the scene in front of you.

“…fine,” Yone agreed at last, breaking eye contact with Kosen.

“Great,” you replied, ignoring Yone’s sour expression. “I’ll try and see if I can convince anyone to come by and see her while you scout around for any demonic presences. I promise we won’t go far if you decide that we can’t be trusted after all.”

Yone said nothing, letting out what you hoped was an amused huff before disappearing.

Once he was gone, you turned to Kosen, who was still relaxing on the grass without a feigned care in the world, your hands on your hips.

“You don’t have to antagonize him,” you said, smiling, though you knew that Kosen was aware that you weren’t mad.

Wishing Kosen good luck, you set off for the town, your best guess as to where to start being a group of mothers you had seen socializing while their children played. The first woman you had talked to wasn’t there, but you set about your task regardless, knowing it would have to be done if the victim-to-be had any chance of a life when you were done here.

You distantly wondered what Yone was doing, as you ran around trying to drum up a social circle for the woman like you were a parent on the first day of school. You weren’t anywhere near as good at sensing the presence of an azakana from afar as Yone and Kosen, but you would be able to feel if there was an altercation, so you suspected based on the nothing you felt that Yone had made little progress.

It came as no small relief to have some breathing room, even if Kosen wasn’t here as well. You hadn’t realized how tense you were with Yone around until you had a break from being around him.

You still had no idea what to think of him, his intentions as shadowed in mystery as the mask on his face.  You hadn’t pressed, and didn’t intend to, but you couldn’t imagine there being a positive explanation for his unusual appearance.

You had garnered some concern for the woman, but nobody you talked to seemed to know her beyond normal pleasantries back when her family had been whole. You could tell people were getting a little tired of your questions, and you were ready to take your little progress and head to the inn when you saw a familiar figure heading your way.

“Have you had any luck?” the mother from this morning asked, this time without her son by her side.

You gave her a reluctant smile. “None yet, unfortunately. But we’re looking around to make sure we don’t miss anything.”

The mother looked uncomfortable, and you thought it might still be because of the killer in their midst until she hesitantly spoke up.

“I… I overheard the others talking about Mika,” she admitted, surprising you. “I haven’t wanted to bother her, so I haven’t gone to see her, but then I thought about what you said earlier and… is Mika in some sort of trouble?”

Well this conversation was already more helpful than all the other ones you had attempted since leaving Kosen at Mika’s house.

“She might be,” you admitted, hoping she would be able to help as you were running out of options. “Her being so alone puts her at risk. I can only do so much, but as long as she remains this alone, she’ll be at risk of this happening again.”

“I never thought–” She put a hand to her mouth, shocked, and you were relieved that you didn’t have to answer more questions about what these threats were, as the whole azakana thing never went down well with anyone who had never had an experience with one. “What can I do?”

“You just need to talk to her,” you stated simply. “She’s been isolating herself for so long that she can’t see a way out on her own anymore, and I can only do so much. She needs someone who isn’t a stranger to her.”

“I… understand,” she spoke shakily, sadly. “I should have gone to her sooner. Can you tell her that Sumei will come by and–”

You cautioned her to wait until the threat was dealt with to begin visiting Mika again, Sumei reluctantly agreeing, wishing you luck before going home to her son, clearly nervous to be without him in her sight after all that you had told her.

It was early evening by the time you turned back to head to the inn, desperately looking forward to a good meal and a real bed after your long day.

You were so exhausted that you didn’t see the hand coming, your arm seized in a painfully tight grip. Turning sharply, you saw Shusho’s unsettling grinning face, the light reflected from a nearby street lamp alighting his face with a sinister glow.

“What’s your problem?” he demanded, using his harsh grip on your arm to push you against the wall of the store you had been walking by.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied evenly, trying to shake his hold on your arm, but he held fast, pressing in closer.

“Do you know how many women would love to be in your position?” he demanded with narrowed eyes glaring in your direction. “Women throw themselves at me! You should be grateful I even looked at you!”

Was this about earlier…? You felt anger rise in you at his words; you were here trying to save someone’s life and he was more concerned over a bruised ego?

“Don’t you have some innocents to be swindling instead?” you asked, voice cold as you broke his hold on your arm, his grip loosened momentarily from shock. “Please excuse me.”

“You… you bitch!” Shusho shouted at your retreating back, not unlike a spoiled child being denied a treat and throwing a tantrum. “Nobody rejects me ever! You’ll regret treating me like this!”

You kept walking, increasing your pace in an effort to get away from him as fast as possible, a figure leaping down from the shadow of a nearby building to walk beside you.

“If you were watching me, you could’ve helped,” you complained to Yone, who raised an eyebrow at you in return. “Right, not an azakana, so not your problem. Got it.”

“You didn’t need my help,” he replied at last, the two of you walking in the direction of the inn.

Shusho punched the wall of the run-down looking store she had just escaped from. This was all turning out to be one huge disappointment for him.

He was used to leaders tripping over themselves to buy his services, women competing to be the one to warm his bed. This was not how things were supposed to go.

Who did that snobby bitch think she was? Nobody ever turned their nose up at him, looked at him like he was a bug under their shoe.

Shusho made his way into the woods, intent on taking out his rage on the first creature he found, angrily kicking a fallen branch out of his way.

Now that he was truly alone and away from all those village busybodies, Shusho’s smile had long since dropped from his face. The world around him was black, which made a sudden face between the trees stand out, its appearance sending Shusho reeling back into a tree, the bark digging into his back as he stared in horror at the scene before him.

And then it moved closer, and it became clear to Shusho that the face was a mask, a solid white mask with long horns. As it emerged from the shadows, he saw that it was being worn by a figure made of pitch black that was too tall and jagged to possibly be human.

“What are you?” Shusho yelled at the figure, brandishing his weapon with shaking hands.

The mask tilted to the side, as if assessing his question, finally leaning down towards Shusho’s face. “You want that girl to suffer?”

“I…” Shusho breathed, the inhuman cadence the voice possessed chilling his bones as he took a moment to consider its words, her sneering face coming to his mind and replacing his fear with anger.

“Good,” the black thing purrs. “I can help you get her, you know… if you assist me with what I want in return.”

He didn’t care what he had to do, what this creature would ask of him. He had never been insulted like that in his life, and the rage shook him worse than a tornado. He would not just let that woman humiliate him and get away with it.

“Tell me what I have to do.”

The shadow watched the arrogant fool stride back into the village, renewed with purpose. As always with humans, he would only realize the cost of his choices when it was time to pay. But this fool would be ever so useful in obtaining what the shadow had spent so many years biding his time in wait for.

“After so many years, you think yourself free. But you will taste so sweet, delicious daughter of sorrow, like a prized fruit finally come to ripeness…”

You were in for another surprise when you got to the inn.

“We’ve prepared a nice room for you and your husband!” the kindly older woman manning the small inn happily informed you.

“I… uh…” You weren’t really sure what to say to the clearly well-intentioned woman. Part of you was relieved she didn’t seem to find Yone frightening, but did you really look like you could be married to him?

“I’ll leave you both to it!” she said, placing a key down on the counter in front of you before making her way back over to an older man sitting back behind the counter, leaving you standing there stunned.

With a resigned internal sigh, you turned to address Yone, but he spoke first.

“I do not need to sleep,” he spoke curtly. “You can make use of the room for yourself.”

He turned to leave, and you felt something strange zap through you.

“Wait!” Yone stopped walking, and you felt embarrassed at the realization that flooded through you… that you didn’t want him to leave.

You had been fine investigating on your own, but something about the thought of sleeping alone for the first time in seven years froze you to your core. Kosen was always with you, always there if you woke up in the night, terrified that demon from your past had come back for you. Why had you never noticed how truly dependent you were on Kosen for comfort until now?

But it wasn’t like you could ask Yone to trade places with Kosen now. That woman’s life was more important than your comfort, you knew that, but you hated how desperate anxiety was making you reach out to someone who so recently stated he wanted you and Kosen dead. But as much as you hated it, you didn’t want him to leave.

“If you’re… okay with me potentially sneaking out to help Kosen consume this whole town,” you said, staunchly unwilling to disclose your true motivations, even as thinly-veiled as you hoped they weren’t.

Yone finally turned, staring at you for a short moment before the corner of his lip turned up the slightest amount, seeming to see something in your rigid posture.

“I suppose I cannot take this threat of yours lightly,” he replied, making his way back over to you, his voice lacking its usual bite.

Your face felt hot, not having expected that petty threat to actually get any results. Immediately, you became self-conscious; did he know the real reason you wanted him to stay? If he knew, then you knew he would see you as that weak girl you had been so long ago, and you found yourself desperately wanting to avoid that outcome, but not really understanding why. Wasn’t it better if he thought you were weak? Then you would be free of him sooner…

Choosing to move on from the awkward moment as soon as possible, you snatched the key before making your way up the stairs that had to lead to the rooms, easily finding yours at the end of the hall.

The room was fairly simple, a decently-sized bed in one corner and a simple wooden bath in the other, the curtains on the windows looking handmade.

The sound of the door closing behind you had you looking back to Yone, who was currently surveying the bath, the steam gently rising from the water telling you it had very recently been filled.

“You can go first if you want,” you offered half-jokingly. “Unless you don’t need to bathe either.”

You were genuinely unsure if he needed to do much of anything, since he didn’t seem to sleep or eat, making you again wonder exactly what he was. But you hadn’t gotten into your story with him, so it didn’t feel right to pry into his.

Yone continued to stare at the water for a long moment before turning back to you. “I have no need to bathe. It simply… reminds me of an old life.”

Not knowing what to do with that, you let the matter drop. He could keep his secrets if he wanted to, but that didn’t mean you were about to let the hot bath go to waste.

Yone kept politely turned away, producing a worn gray cloth to clean his swords with while you bathed.

It wasn’t that you thought he was interested enough to stare, but you were surprised someone who struck such a fearsome figure would also possess enough manners to give you privacy while you undressed.

There wasn’t a lot of conversation before bed, simply solidifying the plan to check in with Kosen the next morning before taking further steps to draw out the fire azakana if it had still yet to emerge.

Yone had made no move to join you on the bed, at least not by the time you fell asleep, hugging one side of the bed to leave room for him to avoid being rude.

You were sinking into the blood.

Your parents’ empty eyes stared you down, never to see again. You blinked, and their eyes were a pitch black that spread across their faces, dark veins of black encompassing them entirely, their mouths opening too wide, revealing only more black. And from behind them rose a dark, dark shadow, one that you hoped you would never see again, from its mouth coming a terrible rasping voice.

“Sweet daughter of sorrow… soon you will be mine again.”

You woke up with a ragged gasp, heart pounding in your chest, startled to find that you were in your dark room at the inn, and not in the clutches of the azakana who had murdered your parents.

It took you a long time to realize there was a hand on your shoulder, turning with wet eyes to see Yone at your bedside, the room too dark to see his uncovered eye beneath the shadows of his mask.

“You were speaking in your sleep,” he informed you softly as soon as he noticed you realized he was there.

“I… I’m sorry,” was all you could think to say.

You heard Yone sigh softly, sadly. “I haven’t slept in many years. I find the company of my waking thoughts less disquieting than my sleeping torments.”

You wanted to feel embarrassed about being caught waking up from a nightmare like a child, but his words sparked curiosity within you instead.

“You don’t sleep?” you asked, seizing the opportunity to ask about something you had been wondering. “But that’s not… what are you?”

“I don’t know anymore,” was his answer. “I am not alive, but this body will not succumb to death.”

“You… died?” Your voice came out as a shaky whisper.

Yone stood up, taking a seat on the other side of the bed, his back now facing you.

“I don’t mean to pry,” you said, wiping your wet eyes on your sleeve as you stared at his back, skin looking as pale as death in the sparse moonlight. “You don’t have to talk about it. I know how much it hurts to relive the past.”

“I won’t offer my words to be consumed by your pet, but it would be wrong not to let you know just what kind of monster you’ve bound your fate to,” he stated solemnly.

You kept quiet, fear all but forgotten as you waited to hear what he had to say.

“When I was alive,” he started, voice sounding tired. “I had a younger brother. He was spirited, strong, but reckless. I tried to teach him responsibility, to show him the right path… but I failed.”

“What happened to him?” you asked quietly, his story clearly leading to some sort of tragedy.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “But I think he may have finally found his place in the world. I have only seen him once since he killed me.”

“He killed you?” you echoed, shocked.

Yone turned his head back to face you at the volume of your reply, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “My apologies, I’ve never been a good storyteller, and I fear I’m especially out of practice now.”

“But how did that even happen?” you asked, unable to conceive of such a terrible fate.

Yone turned to fully face you, his face returning to the shadow of the room, too dark to see any part of his expression.

“My brother was training under a great swordsmaster when Noxus invaded,” he explained. “He wanted to fight, but he was needed to protect the master. I tried to make him see reason, and thought I had succeeded. But I returned to see the master slain, bearing wounds that only my brother could have created, and my brother had vanished.”

You tried to pinpoint the emotion in his voice, but it all felt so far below the surface, like you were trying to look at the bottom of a deep well.

“It was my duty to go after him, to avenge the death of Master Souma,” Yone spoke. “But more than anything, I wanted to know why. On my honor, I could not let him live, but he was always a better swordsman than I, and I died, without ever knowing why he claimed to not be a murderer that day.”

“You didn’t ask him when you saw him again?” you asked.

Yone shook his head. “It no longer mattered. My brother will find his way, and since I became what I am, I am no longer concerned with the worries that used to plague me as a human.”

That made you think of the one thing he had yet to address. “Then how did you become like this?”

Yone let out a long, sad exhale before answering. “I strayed from the path to the world of spirits, and I was attacked by the azakana that bore this mask. When I killed it, it became part of me, and I woke up back in this world bearing this unnatural visage.”

“I’ve made peace with what I am,” he told you, making you wonder just what kind of face you had been making that he felt the need to say that. “But I need to know what this mask means. I don’t think I’ll be rid of it until I understand why that azakana found me… what part of my soul it sought to consume.”

You felt for him. To be killed by his own brother, and then find himself branded by an azakana’s mask without even knowing what emotion had drawn it to him.

You were sure he must have had lots of complicated feelings about the end to his mortal life, but there was no knowing just what that azakana had been seeking a taste of. Betrayal? Dishonor? It wasn’t hard for you to figure out what emotion of yours drew the azakana back in before Kosen had found you, but it had never mattered to you, not like it seemed to matter to Yone.

His sudden candor made you want to tell him about your own past, feeling now as if he was a kindred spirit rather than a barely-tolerated presence.

“I know you heard some of it when I was feeding Kosen,” you spoke quietly, Yone’s eyes boring into you. “I was dreaming about the azakana that killed everyone in my village but me, back when I was eighteen.”

“An entire village?” Yone sounded unsettled.

You nodded, staring down at the sheets you were clutching and unclutching in your fingers in your nervous state. You had never told anyone but Kosen about your past, and it felt strange to form the words now without him here to ease your pain.

“My parents were the heads of the village, and that day was my leader-to-be ceremony. My parents said they had something special planned. I thought it was maybe going to be a marriage to the son of a nearby village, not… an azakana.”

It was Yone’s turn to stay silent, and you fought through the coming tears and kept going. “I didn’t really know what they were back then, and I still don’t know why my parents would try to make a deal with one. But it came to the ceremony and killed everyone. Everyone but me. I still think of that room every time I smell blood.”

You let out a slow exhale, wiping some stray tears that brimmed your eyes. “As you can guess, my mental state wasn’t so great after that. I lasted three years having to kill every azakana that came after me before I tried to end it all. Kosen found me that day and saved me. Without him, I’d still be a magnet for azakana or, well, dead.”

You thought the silence after would feel uncomfortable, that Yone would be disgusted with you now that he knew your past, how close you had come to giving up on everything, but his silent stare felt surprisingly safe. Comfortable.

A thought wriggled in the back of your mind like a worm. Why did you even care if he was disgusted by you? You hadn’t before…

“I have been on my own for so long, I’ve forgotten what it was like to have trust in others,” Yone remarked. “Even if your ally is… unconventional.”

“Kosen is a great ally,” you insisted with a laugh, Yone’s attempt at being gracious to Kosen raising your spirits. “If you could stop picking fights with him long enough, you’d see that.”

Yone huffed, the sound surprisingly childish coming from him. “Without you to stop me, he would be nothing more than a mask on my belt.”

“Yone!” you chastised him.

“You should sleep,” he insisted kindly. “I will stand watch in place of your tiger tonight.”

When he offered, you realized just how tired you still were, talking with Yone having relieved you of your emotional burdens, almost as if Kosen was here.

“And you’re not going to go attack him the second I fall asleep?” you asked only half-jokingly as you settled back down in bed, staring at Yone’s masked eye, glowing softly blue in the dark.

“Your pet demon will not be harmed by my hand tonight,” he promised, amusement in his voice.

“Good,” you replied, rolling over onto your other side, sleep easily finding you, your dreams calm in the aftermath of the unexpected heart to heart.

You opened your eyes, testing sleep-heavy limbs as you noticed Yone by the window, back facing you. The squeak of the bed as you sat up had him turning to face you, much easier to see his uncovered red eye in the morning light.

“Good morning,” you greeted him, feeling incredibly strange to greet someone other than Kosen in the morning.

As Yone returned your greeting, you thought of Kosen. You had slept through the night, so clearly nothing had happened to the potential victim during the night, but you still didn’t feel right leaving Kosen by himself for any longer.

“We should probably go check on Kosen,” you said, hoping your hair wasn’t too much of a mess as you crawled out of bed, feeling somewhat shy as you went to put on all of your gear.

It was a weird feeling, waking up alone with a man, even if you weren’t sleeping in the same bed. It was embarrassing how romantically stunted you were, never having so much as kissed a boy before your entire village had been wiped out, and it wasn’t like you had much interest since. Nobody could understand the way you lived, and you were very aware of how your strange existence looked to others.

Sparing a quick glance at Yone, you mentally slapped yourself. All he was interested in was determining if you were an azakana enabler or not, not that you thought of him in that way anyways. Your judgment was probably just clouded by the fact that he was the first person you could ever really talk to about azakana. Once the azakana you were hunting was dead, he would be gone, simple as that.

Once you had your things together, you exited the room, Yone just behind you. You were relieved that nobody was in the hallway this early, and you were easily able to make it outside without having to hear any more queries about you and your husband.

You had been walking alongside Yone for a bit before deciding to speak up, though this time at least, the silence didn’t feel so awkward.

“Do you think it’s likely to–”

“I can feel it,” Yone hissed suddenly, tensing up.

“Wait, the azakana?” you asked, startled by the timing.

“We must go,” he insisted, disappearing before your eyes.

You brandished your daggers, darting after him towards the woman’s house, hoping she and Kosen would be okay by the time you got there. You knew that Kosen could hold his own in a fight with another azakana, but you didn’t want to test out just for how long.

As you got closer, a roar pierced the air, quickening your pace and emerging into the middle of a fierce fight.

A bulky figure made of pure fire swiped a clawed hand at Kosen, who leaped back, still strangely in tiger form. Looking to the side, you saw why; a frightened form was curled up against the wall, staring through her fingers at the fight.

Kosen must not have wanted to scare her more, but it was unfortunately hindering him in the fight, an issue that was abundantly clear to you as Kosen was obviously on the defensive.

With a well-aimed slash, Yone joined the fight ahead of you, drawing the azakana’s attention away from Kosen as it was forced to contend with him as well, the silent assassin showing no mercy as expected.

While they battled the azakana, you sheathed your daggers and ran to the woman, helping her stand so you could escort her back inside her house.

“What is… what is that?” she asked, shaking, barely able to stay upright as you moved her along the wall until you got to the front door, pulling it open and ushering her inside.

You had hoped to take care of her issue before she caught sight of it, but the problem was out in the open now, which made continuing to lie a fruitless endeavor.

“It’s an azakana,” you admitted, the woman looking confused and skeptical immediately, which was the usual reaction any time you were forced to admit the truth of your endeavors.

“But, azakana…” She sunk to the floor, looking like she had lost all remaining strength to stand.

You didn’t really want to leave her alone, but you couldn’t stay here while the others fought. If this azakana had consumed as many people as you suspected it had, then it would be much stronger than what you usually contended with, which would mean that they would probably need your help.

“You need to stay here,” you stressed to the woman, who dumbly nodded, still seeming very out of it. You were somewhat concerned, but she would be safe in here for now, especially if you were able to take the azakana out as soon as possible.

With that in mind, you re-emerged outside to a fiery scene. You knew both Yone and Kosen would deny it if you brought it up later, but they were working together rather well, Kosen able to pack more of a punch now that he had shifted into his azakana form. They were covering each other so fluidly that it was almost unbelievable that they had been at each other’s throats since they had met.

The azakana looked like it had been on the defensive since Yone joined the fight, forced to raze nearby trees to try and create obstacles for its determined attackers to repel.

Even amidst all the chaos, it spotted you at the door, letting out a shriek and sending a stream of fire your way, forcing you to have to extinguish the door before you could join in the fight to avoid the house catching on fire with the woman still inside. Really you should have been evacuating her, but you knew that would put her in immediate harms way, not to mention the risk of the town burning to the ground if the azakana were to pursue your attempt to flee with her.

You had never fought a flaming azakana before, making sure to keep your strikes fast to avoid being burned. It seemed you were the most fragile of the group, neither Yone nor Kosen fazed by the burn risk; maybe that should be a given, since neither were fully human like you were.

The azakana was likely furious to have its meal snatched from its clutches, only to then be engaged by three attackers who knew what they were doing, its fury showing in the scorching jets of fire it sent all around you.

As the fight went on, it was abundantly clear to all parties involved that the fight was going to end in the azakana’s death. With a terrible screech, it raised its arms, but you weren’t going to back down, leaping towards the demon, the wind rushing in your ears, leaving you deaf to Kosen’s warning cry.

You heard a shout of your name, and then you were snatched out of the air, your face pressed against a bare chest, arm bandages surprisingly soft against your skin.

You grasped onto Yone’s arm with surprise as he leaped back just in time as a wave of fire overtook the sky, shooting against and over Yone’s back before you could blink. Staring at his face in shock, you didn’t see an ounce of pain in his expression as he stared down at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, eye moving over you to assess you for injuries.

“Me?” You knew he wasn’t human anymore, but he still just bore the brunt of an inferno against his back. “How are you still standing?”

There was a ghost of a smile on his lips as he answered. “I’ve survived worse.”

A growl from Kosen had Yone turning around with you still in his arms to see Kosen stalking around a scorched pit, huffing angrily.

Yone set you down and you both approached the shallow pit, the large circle of burnt grass leading to a wide path through the trees, leaving scorched bark and leaves in its wake.

“It ran…” you observed in a stupor.

If the azakana had been killed, there would have been a mask left behind, which was noticeably absent, leading you to the only conclusion available, that the azakana had decided to use its remaining power to drive you back long enough to run with its tail between its legs.

“We need to pursue it,” Yone insisted, staring at the azakana’s trail.

You knew he was right, but you also needed to be the person who thought of the human aspect here, since Yone was clearly lacking in that department.

“I have to check on her first,” you insisted, looking back to see the house thankfully only suffered superficial burn damage. “We can’t just leave her here in this state. I can get Kosen to help calm her down and then take her to her friend’s house and then we can leave.”

Yone didn’t protest, which surprised you. You had expected a comment about enabling your pet to take advantage of vulnerable people, or wasting time by delaying, but he simply nodded, approaching the burnt crater to inspect it further.

You called Kosen to follow you, quickly explaining your plan to the tiger, who was now shifted back into his disguise. Kosen huffed his agreement to the plan, receiving a short head pat in return before you reached up to gently knock on the door as a warning before pulling it open slowly.

“Mika?” you called out softly, finding her curled into a ball on her floor. She looked relieved to see you, but tensed up when Kosen crossed the threshold behind you.

“It’s okay,” you tried to calm her down, Kosen keeping his head low to try and help your efforts. “He’s tame. But I think we should get you somewhere else for now. Your friend Sumei is worried about you.”

“Sumei…” she echoed, slowly sitting up, eyes glassy with tears.

“I’ll take you to her,” you promised. “But first, would you like to pet my tiger? I’ve been told it helps calm people down.”

Kosen let out his version of a meow, which seemed to help reassure her, at least enough for Kosen to approach her, her shaky hand reaching for his side, stroking his fur with more confidence once she heard his happy purr.

“My daughter would have liked to meet you,” she told Kosen, the calmer tone of her voice telling you that Kosen’s usual methods were working.

You stood there for around five minutes observing before helping her gather some things together to take with her before setting off. Yone was nowhere to be seen when you exited the house, and part of you wondered if that was because of her previous uncomfortableness when she had answered the door the first time. You were unsure if you were reading too much into the situation; it felt like your perception of Yone was changing by the minute lately.

You led the fragile woman past the burnt pit, her eyes widening as you walked her by a little faster, heading to where you recalled her friend’s house being.

“Mika, oh my god,” Sumei gasped as soon as she saw the three of you at her door.

“Is it alright if she stays here with you for now?” you asked, meeting her eyes with a look that she understood immediately.

“Of course!” she replied encouragingly. “We’d love to have you stay with us, Mika.”

Sumei went back into her house with the excuse of setting up some bedding, clearly giving you a moment alone with Mika.

“You’ll be safe here,” you promised, having confidence in her friend’s dedication to support her.

“Did you… did you kill it?” she asked meekly.

You had been hoping she wouldn’t ask, but you didn’t want to lie to her when it was her life that had been in danger. “It ran away, so I don’t think it’ll be coming after you again. When I’m done here, we’re going right after it to make sure it doesn’t try to hurt anyone else.”

She nodded, but still seemed bothered. “…did you kill the tall man in black?”

“The what?” you asked, her words prickling uncomfortably against your skin.

“He was watching,” she said quietly, staring downwards. “When the fire one attacked me, he just stood there and watched.”

“I…”

You were speechless, the horrible figure from your last moment of normalcy and your nightmare last night coming to your mind, but it couldn’t be that. She must have seen something else, like a gnarled burnt-up tree or something and thought it was watching her. You were only reading too much into her words because of that stupid nightmare. It was up to you to stay calm, to assuage her fears.

Before you had a chance to say anything else, Sumei returned, sending a warm smile her friend’s way. “I made some tea, so I think we should start there.”

“Oh… alright,” Mika replied to her friend before turning back to speak to you in a whisper. “Please be careful. It was so horribly dark.”

“I will,” you agreed, and though she still looked uneasy, she followed her friend into the house, the door closing behind her and formally ending your time in this village.

You were sure somebody would inform the village leader of what had happened, but you just didn’t have the time, not when you had an azakana to catch before there were more casualties.

Kosen huffed in question, but you brushed off his concerns. “I’m fine. Let’s just find Yone and get on our way.”

You found him back at the pit, standing in one of the burnt trees, looking out into the distance.

“I can see its path heading towards the coast,” he informed you after jumping down from the tree. “It has very likely made its way to the town there.”

You had never been by that part of Ionia before, but given it was on the coast, it had to be some sort of fishing town. You would kill for a chance to rest and recharge, but there would be no time for that, not until the firey azakana was dead.

As the three of you set off down the burnt path, you briefly considered telling Yone about Mika’s strange parting words, dismissing the thought as quickly as you had it; you didn’t want Yone to think you were getting paranoid. And besides, if there was another azakana there, then Yone and Kosen would have sensed it or seen it or… something.

All your dwelling on this was doing was distracting you from your current task. The threat whose trail you were following now was real, unlike any imagined threat in the back of your mind, spurned on by a terrified woman who had been seeing things that weren’t there.

Eventually, the burning trail faded to typical forest scenery, telling you that this had been the point where the azakana had recouped enough strength to return to its realm. But there was no question where it would strike next, given you had spoiled its previous intended meal. A decently-sized fishing town would have no shortage of meals for a starving azakana that was desperate to restore its expended strength, and you intended to be ready when it made its move to cut it down first.

While the forest floor was much less comfortable than a bed, it was always relaxing to go back to your comfort zone after a stay in normal society. As much as you wanted to belong somewhere, you knew that your place was in the shadows, only able to fake enough humanity to slay a beast, save a victim and then retreat back to the safety of your solitude. And that’s exactly how it would be again once this azakana was dead and Yone left you too.

…too?

You were being stupid. He still intended to kill you and Kosen if you took one step out of line, or at least hadn’t asserted anything to the contrary. He wasn’t someone you should want around you to begin with, especially given he had now seen you at your very worst. Parting after the death of this azakana should be a relief to you both.

It took you the better part of two days to reach Solni, as the town welcome sign proclaimed.

Despite your personal reservations, you had found yourself paying more attention to Yone. It probably didn’t help that Yone seemed much more willing to initiate conversation with you now, even though he had rebuffed any of your attempts to get him to eat or sleep. He seemed determined to present himself as inhuman, and you began to wonder if it was a defense mechanism of some kind.

Solni seemed like a typical fishing town, much bigger and more bustling than Tevasa had been. In a town this large, there was no sense in talking to the leader or canvassing door-to-door, the town was just too big for that to be of any help.

“It will be desperate for a meal,” Yone said as you stood on a large hill overlooking the town, looking for anything unusual. “It will attack as soon as it has regained its strength, so we should anticipate an imminent attack once it has isolated a target.”

You nodded, on the same page. “Should we head into town then?”

It was an easy decision to defer to Yone’s experience here, given you had never had an azakana escape you before, which made this situation all the trickier. When and where it would strike would be entirely up to chance, and as the only one in your party who didn’t have a strong supernatural sense for azakana, you were the one at most clear disadvantage.

Yone nodded. “In its desperation, it may not even bother isolating its target before it chooses to strike, and we need to be close when it happens.”

You headed into town with Yone, Kosen not seeming to be as much of a big deal to the people here, which came as a pleasant surprise. Maybe they see lots of unusual trade through their port, you reasoned, the tiger gaining no more than curious glances as you passed by people milling about the streets.

Yone seemed to be attracting much more attention in comparison, though you doubted he was aware of it. You had already noticed several women you passed giggling to their friends as he passed, and more than one comment about his toned chest and arms.

For his part, Yone didn’t even look their way, even when a pair called out to mister handsome with the mask, leading you to wonder if he had even heard them, or if he had assumed they were talking to someone else, given what you had learned of his self-perception. Now that you were a little more relaxed around him, it was hard not to notice the reality of his appearance, as much as it made travelling with him more awkward.

The you that had first met Yone would be in disbelief now, your previous scorn now turned to curiosity. You refused to put any more thought into your changing feelings, not wanting to be just like those women, pining after a man that would just vanish into the wind the moment his purpose here was achieved.

“Did you sense something?” you asked as Yone stopped to stare down an alleyway. You could sense if an attack was imminent, but detecting the presence of an azakana in hiding wasn’t a skill that a regular human like yourself could ever develop.

Yone stared at the alley for a moment longer before turning to you. “It’s… flickering.”

You frowned, not really sure what he meant by that.

“Do you–”

“I thought I’d see you here,” a voice interrupted, your vision being overtaken by an obnoxious visage that you had hoped not to see again.

Kosen growled as Shusho laid an unwelcome hand on your shoulder.

“Heard you skipped town after you nearly burnt that woman’s house down,” he remarked casually, eyes glinting with undisguised malice. “Those hicks will be out for blood soon, with you filling that woman’s head with nonsense about demons. I’d have put in a good word for you if you hadn’t been such a stuck-up whore back in Tevasa.”

You felt anger flare through you like a knife slash through your back, Kosen’s snarl telling you he had also not appreciated Shusho’s reappearance.

“Better they are forewarned about real danger than swindled by a charlatan sworn to rid them of a threat that does not exist,” Yone spoke up from behind you, the hostility in his voice chilling your anger and replacing it with shock. You hadn’t heard anger like that in his voice since the night you had met him, and even then, he hadn’t sounded quite this deadly.

Shusho’s eyes shot over to Yone in what looked to you like fear, but the look didn’t stay for long before his sneer was directed back your way.

“Sweet,” he said mockingly. “You have your little boyfriend fight all your battles for you now?”

“No,” you denied, unable to keep your anger contained. “If he did, your ass would be on the floor in pieces by now.”

Shusho’s nostrils flared, eyes dark as he glared at you. “You should watch how you treat people. I was going to give you another chance to make it up to me, but now you’ll really deserve everything that’s coming your way.”

And with that, he turned, disappearing into the crowd within seconds, Kosen’s lunge after him stopped by your hand on his fur. He was creepy and off-putting, but Shusho was not worth causing a scene in the marketplace for, not when you had an actual objective you had to accomplish here.

It was only until you drifted to the alley Yone had been looking at before that you realized your social misstep. Awkwardly, you turned to Yone, embarrassed that you had allowed your anger to overtake you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, finding it hard to meet his eye. “I should have corrected him about the… boyfriend thing.”

You winced at how your voice seemed to crack at the word boyfriend, but Yone seemed unphased, shaking his head in response.

“I do not fight humans,” he spoke, voice tight with anger. “But I have never been so tempted to make an exception.”

You laughed, more relieved than you thought you would be that he wasn’t upset with you. “You’d probably have to fight Kosen first for that right.”

Kosen snarled his agreement, fur still standing on end, the azakana looking just as furious as he had during the distasteful interaction with Shusho.

It felt a little strange to be on the receiving end of protectiveness from more than just Kosen, the feeling definitely not unwelcome in this moment. You tried to stamp down the hope you felt rising in your chest at his words; there was no way he had meant anything by them anyways.

You cleared your throat, figuring that you should change the subject, for your own sake. “Should we try–”

Your words cut off as you were assailed from behind by a wave of pressure so strong that you flinched, eyes meeting Yone’s, his exposed eye narrowing at something behind you.

“Fire!” someone shouted, panicked screams ringing out from all around you as you whipped around to survey the scene.

“Evacuate the crowd,” was all Yone said to you before vanishing from your side into the chaos.

What was in front of you now was not a creature made of fire, but rather a wall. You couldn’t tell where the azakana itself was in the mess, frightened people running in all directions as the marketplace was rapidly engulfed by flames.

You wanted to seek out Yone’s form in the flames, but a loud cracking noise made you spring into action instead, noticing the roof over a large section of the market beginning to crack at the seams.

“Kosen!” you shouted, the tiger already steps ahead of you rushing in to help a group of kids out of the path of a stampeding horse.

You dashed in as well, grabbing the horse by the reins, Kosen quickly absorbing enough of its panic to allow you to lead it away form the scene, handing off the reins to the first person you found that looked like they knew what to do with it before sprinting back into the action.

The area was evacuated quickly with you and Kosen’s help, braver people helping by carrying out the injured as Kosen made sure the way was clear.

You knew that Yone was inside that wall of fire, running in at last once everyone was safely out of the area, ignoring shouts from concerned bystanders for you to stop as you leaped through the demonic fire.

You emerged into an arena of fire and heat, walls encircling you making the area not unlike a colosseum, rubble from the broken roof and overturned stalls making the terrain hard to navigate, never mind the heat beating down on you.

There was a slash across your field of vision, a red line visible amidst the smoke and debris, a demonic howl telling you that Yone’s strike had hit its target. It was hard to tell how the fight had been going with how smoky the area was, but the ball of fire that impacted near you told you that the azakana still had a good amount of strength in reserve.

You didn’t waste a moment longer scaling an overturned booth, climbing past scorched vegetables and leaping to join the fight.

It was hard to miss the firey figure swiping blindly with burning claws to try and catch Yone, but clearly failing as you caught sight of Yone going in for another hit.

Yone was holding his own, but the azakana seemed way stronger than it had been back in Tevasa. You quickly fashioned a mask out of a strip of cloth on your belt to keep out enough of the smoke for you to be able to fight before drawing your own daggers and covering Yone’s flank, diving at the demon with a cut that it barely deflected, Yone’s slash to its side hitting harder as a result of your distraction.

“Has it gotten stronger?” you called out to Yone as you jumped to his side.

“Yes,” he confirmed, sounding offput. “I’m not sure how it could have gotten this much stronger on its own. If we don’t kill it here, it has the potential to decimate this town.”

Your eyes widened in shock, but given how aflame the marketplace had become in a matter of minutes, you felt stupid for not realizing until now. Had it already killed people? You hadn’t noticed any bodies in the rubble, but that was the only reasonable explanation for its wildly increased strength.

“Then what do we do?” you asked before the two of you were forced to dive to the side to avoid a falling beam sent your way by the azakana.

Yone smirked. “Kill it quickly.”

And then he was gone again, dashing through the air to land a brutal strike on the demon. With a sigh, you followed, infusing your daggers with magic to protect yourself from the worst of the flames.

What the azakana lacked in finesse, it made up for in power, throwing clumsy bursts of fire that threw you off balance, making it harder to hit. Yone also seemed to be having some trouble, the azakana able to deflect some of his strikes by shifting its flames.

You were given an assist as through the wall of fire leapt a masked figure of black shadow, sinking his teeth and claws into the azakana’s shoulder, their shared nature preventing the fire azakana from making its fire intangible as Kosen savaged it.

“Kosen!” you cried out, relieved that he had joined the fight as well.

His appearance in azakana form told you that the area was clear of anyone that could see him, which meant that you could fight the azakana without worrying about anyone getting hurt.

Kosen seemed to be able to pin the flailing azakana much better than you and Yone could, your attacks landing much easier, the azakana now caught between trying to shake Kosen off and deflect you and Yone’s attacks.

There was a strange panic in the air as the fight dragged on, the air getting hotter as the azakana’s screeches grew more frantic. Its movements got clumsier, making you almost wonder if it was running out of energy at last.

As Yone dashed through the demon, it let out a garbled series of sounds that almost sounded to you like it was speaking, but you had never heard anything like it before. A quick glance at Kosen showed you that he hadn’t reacted to the noises, leading you to think that you were hearing things again.

Kosen snarled, thrashing from side to side and giving you the perfect opening, which you knew you were running out of time to take advantage of.

The azakana only seemed to take notice of you as you were mere feet from its face, too close to do anything to repel you. In tune with Kosen keeping it in place, you sunk your daggers into its face down to the hilt, cracking its mask in half.

There was a burst of sparks beneath its splitting mask, and before you could get a look at the face under the mask, you were snatched out of the air, finding yourself in Yone’s arms again as he dashed backwards, your view of the dying azakana blocked by Yone’s shoulders.

“Yone, what’s–”

“It’s going to combust,” he quickly explained, and you put a hand on his chest in response, using it to lift yourself up to look over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the bright light expanding outwards from the azakana’s body, a terrible heat seeming to chase you until Yone jumped over an overturned stall and then you were outside the cage of fire and debris, Kosen reverting to his tiger form now that you were out in the open again.

Yone let you down and the three of you turned to watch as the dome of debris exploded upwards and outwards. Raising a hand to protect your face from the shower of splinters raining down on you, you turned to face Yone.

“Sorry I broke the mask,” you said jokingly. “I know you probably wanted it for your collection.”

Yone shook his head. “There is little point in trying to understand that azakana.”

“Is that why you keep their masks?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“This way I can ensure they will not return, if I am watching over them,” he answered. “But the only way to claim their mask is to know their true name.”

“Then… is there a risk of that one coming back?” you asked, horrified thoughts turning to every azakana you had slain over the years. It was routine for you to break their masks when you killed them, but had you been merely postponing the inevitable the whole time?

Yone thought for a moment. “I cannot sense the one we killed, so I think it must have perished. Unfortunately, new azakana are born quite frequently, so the problem is not so easily solved as long as there are emotions to consume.”

You sighed with relief all the same. “I’m just glad all the ones I’ve killed stayed dead.”

Your own words reminded you of your deal, the whole reason you had been with Yone for the past week, but your throat felt constricted all of a sudden, like your mouth didn’t want to form the inevitable words that you knew you had to say. But a deal was a deal, and a large part of you wanted to hear what he thought of you now.

“So…” you spoke up, Yone’s gaze sending pinpricks up and down your arms. “What about now?”

“Now?” he echoed, Kosen huffing as he caught onto your thought process, sidling up to you as he looked haughtily up at Yone.

“Do you still need to kill us to prevent us from taking innocent lives or whatever it was?” you asked, grinning at Yone in anticipation of his answer.

Yone’s quiet laugh gave you hope.

“…no,” he answered, the small smile on his lips sending heat to your face. Was this the first time you had seen him smile like this?

You didn’t want it to end like this. With how fast Yone was when he wanted to be, you knew that you had no chance of ever catching him if he were to vanish right now.

“Um, I…!” You winced, your voice coming out way louder than you had meant it to. Way to sound desperate. “If you have time, I was wondering if you’d like to try living like a human for the night? I have some money saved from some previous jobs. We could have a meal in town and then stay at a nice inn.”

You expected Kosen to revolt against your suggestion, but he was strangely quiet, staring at you with an unsettling knowing in his eyes. Yone, for his part, looked surprised, his visible eye wide, clearly caught off guard by your idea. But, you hoped, not put off.

If he wanted to be rid of you, then you would accept that, but you were really hoping that he would want a little more time together as much as you were realizing you did.

His stunned silence was making you nervous, which led to more frazzled babbling.

“I know you haven’t eaten since, well… but maybe if you tried, there would be something–”

Yone laughed, a real laugh, which shut your mouth instantly. “I would like that.”

It was your turn to be shocked, not expecting Yone to ever agree, too stunned to respond until Kosen nudged you from behind.

“Let’s, uh, go then!” you exclaimed, almost tripping over your own feet before you righted yourself, fast walking your way out of the ruined marketplace as if you could leave your awkwardness behind as well.

“I’ll have to trust your recommendation then,” Yone said, easily catching up to your hasty strides. “Even when I was alive, I can’t say my meals were anything particularly special.”

“Then I’ll find a great place!” you insisted with feigned confidence. You did treat yourself to nice meals occasionally when you found yourself in bigger cities, but you weren’t an expert by any means, just determined for this borrowed time with Yone to not be a waste. “This is a port town, so there should be good seafood somewhere.”

You slipped out of the crowd just as people began to pour into the marketplace to begin salvaging things, providing the perfect cover for you to blend into the crowd unnoticed. You were relieved to be able to escape without notice, not wanting the townspeople’s questions and accolades to cut into your remaining time with Yone.

By early evening, you were settled into a quiet upscale restaurant by the water, just you and Yone, the restaurant less accepting of your demon tiger than the marketplace had been. Kosen had been happy enough to return to the marketplace to survey the damage and offer comfort to anyone who was upset about the incident, which would take care of his dinner for the night as well.

“I ordered a few of their specialties,” you explained after the food had been brought to your table, just the sight mouthwatering after so many meals scrounged together in the woods.

Thinking maybe Yone needed a push, you cut yourself a piece of the center dish, an Ionian carp in xaolan berry sauce, popping it in your mouth and sighing in delight at the flavor.

Yone seemed to reluctantly follow your lead, skillfully plucking a piece of rolled fish with his chopsticks.

You watched in anticipation as he brought the roll to his mouth, before his eye flickered from his food to you, clearly catching you in the act.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, realizing how awkward you were being. “I didn’t mean to stare, I was just…”

You trailed off, unable to think of an excuse that wouldn’t sound stupid, but Yone didn’t seem bothered, smiling knowingly at you before putting the roll in his mouth.

Even his chewing seemed refined, making you wonder how he had grown up. The only thing he had really talked about was his brother, and you weren’t eager to dig up those old wounds again.

“So how is it?” you asked, unable to hold in your excitement.

“It’s good,” he answered simply, reaching out with his chopsticks for another piece. “The taste isn’t similar at all, but still it reminds me of home.”

“Of meals with your family?” you asked, assuming that was a safe enough topic.

“With my mother,” Yone answered. “And later, my brother. Though he could hardly sit still enough for a proper meal.”

“Then did your mother teach you your table manners?” you asked, trying to keep things light.

Yone smiled fondly. “I suppose she did. She always did say I was a model student. I hesitate to wonder what she would think of me now.”

“I think she’d be proud,” you declared, refusing to allow him to sink into gloom.

Yone looked wistful, glancing out the window at the ocean. “One son a killer, another a monster. I can only hope she hasn’t heard either of our fates. It would be easier on her if she thought we were both dead.”

“I get what you mean,” you agreed, idly cutting another piece of fish for yourself as you followed the tone Yone was setting. “I’ve overheard so many theories from people about why my village perished, but I’ve never corrected any of them. I kinda feel like if I tell anyone what really happened, then I won’t be able to mourn my parents anymore. Not if everyone knew what they did.”

“Then mourn them as they were,” Yone said, his gaze strangely calming. “When I think of Yasuo now, it is not always him as he was when he cut me down. I think of the little brother I defended from bullies, the one who always gloated when he won our sparring matches… the part of them you think of is your decision. I have spent so many years dwelling on one poor choice that I cannot judge your parents for theirs.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheek before you could stop it, hastily reaching up in a vain effort to keep Yone from noticing. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to ruin this.”

“You’re still human,” Yone countered gently. “Emotion is natural.”

You frowned at him; it always rubbed you the wrong way when he excluded himself from humanity.

“I think you’re plenty human,” you insisted strongly. “You haven’t eaten since then, but here you are, eating in a restaurant like all the other humans. Are you sure you’re still some big scary monster lurking in the dark?”

Yone shook his head in clear exasperation, but took your strangely-phrased question seriously.

“I… don’t know,” he admitted, staring down at the food spread out between you. “…but you make me not want to be.”

You were still trying to shake off the giddiness you felt from Yone’s mid-dinner admission as you walked down the streets side by side, attempting to scope out a good inn for the night, insistent that Yone also try to sleep after his success eating a meal.

You had been too nervous to ask what he had meant by those words, instead wimping out and turning the conversation back to the food.

You were such a mess of anxiety, knowing at least vaguely what you wanted, but unable to voice it. The more time you spent with Yone, the less you wanted to go your own way, but you had no idea what he wanted. But above all, you just wanted to give him at least one night of being human, no matter how he saw himself.

And as much as he called himself a monster, he had been willing to go along with your idea, the two of you having dinner as if you were average people on an average date. That had to count for something, right? Why was he so desperately clinging to being a monster?

“I have enough money for two rooms,” you suggested, not wanting to come off as too forward while simultaneously hating yourself for being so sensitive about everything to do with Yone now.

“That is not necessary,” he said, catching you off guard with the sly smile on his lips. “After all, you’ve declared your intent that I sleep. How will you ensure I keep to my word if we’re not in the same room?”

Your mind jumped to that night back in Tevasa, where you had jokingly threatened Yone into staying with you that night when you were without Kosen. Was Yone… teasing you?

Heart beating heavily in your chest, you smiled back conspiratorially. “I guess we did make a deal.”

“One room then,” Yone confirmed, turning to enter the inn ahead of you, leaving you to catch up to him.

You easily procured the room, the innkeeper too busy talking to another customer about the explosion at the market to make any husband comments, even Yone’s appearance not enough to catch her eye over the latest gossip, which was a great relief to you.

The inn was relatively deserted for the late evening, most of the patrons likely in their modest pub, if the noise coming from that direction as you passed by was any indication.

Bars were one area where you felt as inhuman as Yone, only having been in them for information gathering, the rowdiness and sheer volume of noise too much for someone like you who spent most of her time camping out in the woods with a tiger. It was a world you doubted you would ever truly know, and you were more than fine with that.

This room was much fancier than the one back in Tevasa, with a large plush bed, a glance into the adjoining bathroom revealing a bath large enough to fit two people comfortably. Scrubbing that observation from your head, you turned back to Yone, who was setting both his swords down onto a table.

“Do you… want to take a bath?” you asked hesitantly. You couldn’t wait to have one yourself after the day you had, the feel of soot and debris clinging to you since you had fought the azakana. But you were determined to let Yone go first, even if it meant you would sit in squalor for just a little longer.

“Alright,” he agreed, reaching up to begin unwinding the bandages on his arms.

The rapidly-revealed muscles of his arms were immediately too much for you, turning your face away to feign interest in a painting of what you thought was supposed to be some sort of one-legged horse. It wasn’t until you heard his lower garments hit the floor that you realized you should have insisted he undress in the bathroom, cursing your brain for its current lack of coherent thought. He had such impeccable manners at dinner, how did he not know not to undress in the same room as a woman? Maybe you would have to take back your comment about his mother being proud of him after all…

“I’ll just, uh, be out here,” you said, trying not to flinch when you heard the sound of Yone’s bare feet on the floor, but you only had to maintain composure until he walked past you and into the bathroom, and then…

“Aren’t you coming?”

You squeaked at the sudden voice at your ear, having to put out a hand against the maybe-horse painting in front of you to keep yourself from falling forward.

“That’s…!” You whipped around in shock before getting one look at his uncovered torso and turning back to face the painting. “You may not have eaten in years, but I know your mom didn’t raise you in a nudist colony!”

You heard Yone laugh behind you. “…I suppose not.”

You couldn’t relax your tense shoulders until he was in the bathroom, the sound of the door closing allowing you to breathe at last.

Staring at the closed door, you weren’t sure what to think. Where had that even come from?

You couldn’t deny that you and Yone had become much more friendly than you used to be, but the… flirting had really come out of nowhere. Even calling it flirting felt wrong, but how else were you supposed to look at it?

Letting out a weary sigh, you set your bag onto a chair, removing your dagger belt from your waist and placing it on the table next to Yone’s swords. Your eyes drifted from your sheathed daggers to rove over Yone’s swords, realizing now just how much they represented him.

You had never asked him, but it was clear that one sword was older, clearly well-cared for in his previous life. It was strange to you that he denied his humanity while still carrying the sword he had in life, but whatever his hang-ups, it was clear the issue was tightly wound inside him.

His other sword was flashy, the blade a vibrant red. Running a finger along the blade, it felt like no metal you had ever felt before. You wanted to know, but at the same time, you felt like the truth of the blade’s origin would be a painful one.

Leaving the strange sword alone, you looked around the room, trying to find something to occupy your time with.

You were fixing a tear on one side of one of your shirts, carefully angled to face away from the bathroom when the door opened again, Yone’s earlier teasing words ringing frustratingly in your head as you heard him redress.

When you were fairly certain he had at least his pants on, you forced yourself to turn and look at him, hoping you didn’t look as frazzled as you felt.

Yone looked frustratingly unbothered, dressed in only his pants, looking almost like a normal man if not for the mask on his face. He seemed to have been waiting for you to look at him, approaching the bed with a curious disposition.

“You sew?” he asked.

“I, uh, yeah,” you replied, nowhere near as eloquently as you wanted to. “You don’t make a lot of money killing monsters nobody knows about, so I try to make my clothes last. Only so much I could do after we encountered an azakana with acid saliva, though.”

You had mentioned the azakana offhandedly, but Yone seemed to latch on, sitting down next to you on the bed.

“I have yet to meet any of that variety,” Yone commented. “The azakana I encounter tend to feign human guises to lure their prey in.”

You wondered if that was because of his mask. Were there azakana you were letting slip through your fingers because you couldn’t see through their disguises? You were lucky you had Kosen to help pick up your slack in that area, but you couldn’t help but wonder if any azakana had slipped from your grasp without you knowing.

Switching places with Yone, you enjoyed another hot bath, rivers and lakes never able to compare to how nice it felt to have a real bath. Why did you ever deny yourself the comforts of normal society? You only ever seemed to realize how much you missed for your pursuit of azakana when you were able to have a taste of the normal life.

The water was nearly cold by the time you got out, unwilling to give up until you had no choice. Your mind had been pleasantly relaxed, free of any burdens as you bathed, reality crashing back down on you as you opened the door to see Yone sitting on the bed, right where you had left him.

It was dark enough now that Yone’s figure was streaked with shadow, his left side and exposed eye painted with light from the tall candle that sat on the bedside table. Yone’s swords were still on the table next to your daggers, making you wonder if he had just been sitting there on the bed the whole time you were in the bath.

Yone didn’t wear a lot to begin with, but it was strange to see him in just a pair of tight dark pants, a quick glance to the side revealing his wraps and belted sarong folded in a chair, so he had clearly done something while you had been in the bath.

He had gone along with everything you had asked, but you hadn’t really thought too far ahead to this part, given the room only had one bed. Suddenly nervous, you froze in place; would it be too weird to share a bed with Yone? You weren’t opposed necessarily, but you didn’t want to make Yone uncomfortable, not on what was your last night with him.

“Have you ever shared a room with a woman before?” you asked, trying to sound casual even as your feet were rooted to the spot.

Yone looked curious, but indulged you. “Only my mother, before Yasuo was born. After then, Yasuo was such a handful that I’d never have time to consider such things.”

You laughed. “I get what you mean. My parents were really serious about me learning to be a great leader. Dad caught me talking to a boy when I was supposed to be studying and then yelled at me in front of him… he didn’t try to talk to me again after that.”

Yone sighed. “I know that overprotectiveness well. Sometimes I wondered if Yasuo enjoyed causing trouble for me to rescue him from.”

“I can see why you aren’t eager to visit him again,” you joked, Yone’s smile telling you that you hadn’t offended him, which was a relief.

“I’m just glad he seems to have found his own way,” Yone replied. “Back when I was alive, I would have worried about him being jailed if I wasn’t there to guide his way. I look back now and feel ashamed of how I coddled him.”

“You loved him,” you insisted softly. “I don’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of.”

“I suppose I did,” he acquiesced, looking down at his lap.

You had meant to help, but it felt like you were just making things worse. It was then that you remembered your original goal, before you had allowed yourself to get distracted.

“Do you… want to try sleeping?” you asked hesitantly, recalling his previous reasoning. “I won’t force you though. I’ve had my own share of nightmares lately.”

“I’d like to try,” he responded, surprising you with his willingness.

Your shock was clearly a little too plain on your face, Yone laughing softly, prompting you to force your face back into a neutral expression.

“Tonight, I want to live like I was still human,” he spoke resolutely. “So I will endeavor to try. I have hope that my nightmares will not reach me here.”

Your need to protest his self-description was strong, but you got the feeling that it would shatter the moment, so you kept those thoughts to yourself. Yone had banished your own nightmares back in Tevasa, and you were determined to return the favor.

You looked from Yone to the bed, a sudden thought coming to mind. “Actually, how is that going to work with your mask? Do you need to sleep sitting up?”

Yone looked amused as he looked down at the pillow, one hand coming up to run along one of the longer spikes on his mask.

“That wasn’t a concern that had crossed my mind,” he admitted. “Are you sure we should be risking the life of this pillow?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I thought you were only concerned about azakana.”

“Maybe my opinion is changing,” he said, and you had to fight against the fluttering beat your heart was sent into.

He was clearly just joking, you needed to stop taking it so seriously. You were ashamed of yourself; the first real male attention you’d received in ten years and your brain can’t stop looking for hidden meanings in everything he says.

“Do you need any help?” you asked as he laid down, hastily correcting yourself when you realized how your words could be interpreted. “I mean, my mom used to sing to me, but I’m not sure you want that. Even Kosen cringes when I try to–”

“My mother used to stroke my hair,” Yone mercifully interrupted. “When I was a child, before Yasuo was born.”

You weren’t sure if Yone realized it or not, but you began to wonder when the last time he had done something for himself was. He lived for his brother, died for his country’s honor, and now killed azakana for the safety of Ionia, still no closer to figuring out the secrets of his mask, the one goal he had mentioned. You were sure Yone had meant the hair stroking as no more than an idle response to what you had said, but you couldn’t help but want to act on the unspoken desire, to grant him the opportunity to be selfish for once.

Yone stiffened as your hand met his hair, but said nothing, which you took as a sign to keep going. Yone seemed to gradually relax under your touch, while you found yourself only getting more flustered by your own actions.

You were just comforting him, you reasoned with yourself, even though your own reasoning rung hollow within your own mind. Would it even be worth trying to convince him to stay? You weren’t sure if you could stand the rejection, so maybe it would be easier to just let him go and go back even if the thought felt incredibly lonely now.

“My mom used to yell at me for sleeping in trees,” you spoke up, deciding that maybe a silly childhood story would help take both of your minds off of things. “I hated how everything I did revolved around eventually being leader, so I started hiding from my parents whenever I had lessons. Eventually they put a bell around my neck like a pet so they could find me.”

“Not a bad idea,” Yone mused, the softness in his voice making you wonder if he was getting sleepy at all. “I doubt a bell would have kept Yasuo out of trouble.”

“It didn’t stop me either,” you admitted, the memory a particularly proud moment of yours. “I used to stuff the bell with cotton. Though I had to keep finding new trees to hide in since my parents would always find me eventually.”

You smiled, remembering another funny little detail about that particular story. “My dad finally had to have one of the council members follow me around at all times. I used to make a game of losing them. Child me thought it was very worth the scolding I’d get from my parents when I came out from hiding.”

Your hand had absentmindedly continued to stroke along Yone’s hair, so caught up in recalling your own memories that you only noticed now just how still Yone had become.

“Yone?” you spoke softly, testing your suspicions.

Was he really asleep? Part of you had thought this was a foolish endeavor – there was no way that someone as uptight as Yone would be able to rest his eyes for even a second, but the proof was undeniable, Yone’s even breaths barely audible in the silent room.

Thinking on it, you didn’t even find him uptight anymore… when did that stop? When you first met him, you couldn’t imagine having a frankly pleasant dinner with him. You had been surprised you could even get him to agree not to kill you and Kosen that first day, and here you were, not wanting to part ways tomorrow…

This was all too much to think about. Your day had clearly been slowly catching up to you as you sat on the bed next to Yone, your eyes suddenly fighting to stay open.

You wanted to stay awake, to savor the peace you felt in this moment, but today had been too long of a day for you to stay awake out of sheer force of will. Reluctantly admitting defeat, you did your best to creep under the blanket without disturbing Yone, staring at his back for the few short moments that it took for you to fall asleep.

You were a mess of nerves as you stepped out of the inn and onto the late morning streets.

It was a miracle that you had woken up before Yone did, because you had nearly had a heart attack when you had woken up with your head lying against his bare chest. It had been such a palpable relief when you looked up to see Yone’s eyes still closed, his arm around your waist telling you that asleep you was clearly not the only one at fault for the predicament.

The fire azakana was dead, and you had nowhere to be in a hurry, so you decided to let Yone sleep in. According to him, he seemed to be due a good sleep-in for years at this point.

You shouldn’t have been surprised to see Kosen curled up underneath a large tree across the street from the inn. Approaching your feline friend, Kosen sensed you as you approached, treating himself to a nice long stretch before meeting you halfway, the two of you finding a spot out of the way to stop and talk.

“You look happy,” you commented, easily noticing how lively he looked. “Lots of people to comfort yesterday?”

Kosen grunted in the affirmative, confirming the obvious.

“Glad you had a decent night too,” you smiled, freezing when Kosen’s ears seemed to prick up at the word too.

“Wait,” you protested, waving your hands in denial as Kosen pinned you with a curious stare. “It’s not like that, we didn’t… ugh, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Kosen didn’t deny the accusation, his tail smacking against your side in amusement.

“I thought you were supposed to hate him,” you groaned in embarrassment.

You watched the townsfolk mill about, your hand idly petting Kosen’s back as you finally put voice to the thoughts that had been plaguing you for some time now.

“Kosen… I think I want to ask him to stay with us,” you spoke quietly, voice barely above a whisper, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable, even with your company being your oldest friend.

You had expected protest, some form of growling that was meant to serve as Kosen’s version of a hell no, his silence instead unnerving you. Forcing yourself to turn and look at him, it was very apparent why.

When you met his knowing eyes, Kosen nudged your hand with his head, his quiet groan telling you everything you needed to know, years of knowing him aiding your perception.

“…you knew?” you asked softly, Kosen’s nod like a soothing balm to your tortured heart. “Well I wish you had said something sooner. I was ready for you to hate me forever.”

Kosen growled in protest and you shook your head with a laugh. “I know you’d never leave me. But I at least expected you to drag me off to the asylum and leave me there after everything we’ve been through with him.”

You stared at the inn where Yone still slept, feeling a weight lifted from your chest. You didn’t know what you would do if you lost Kosen, his trust in your judgment meaning so much to you.

“…you think he’ll run the other way screaming?” you laughed, Kosen huffing in amusement at your side.

You stayed out idly chatting with Kosen for a while longer until you realized that you should probably see if Yone was awake. He could be pretty unpredictable sometimes, and you didn’t want him to decide to leave before you even had a chance to talk to him.

The walk back to the room was spent overthinking. If he was still asleep, should you wake him up? If he was awake, what would you even say to him? At this point, you weren’t sure which option felt harder to confront as you reached the door, feet barely cooperating with you.

You opened the door slowly, intent on being quiet in case he was still sleeping, which turned out to not matter as you quickly spotted him sitting on the edge of the bed. He had been staring out the window, but turned his head to face you as he heard the door open, though you doubted he hadn’t heard your footsteps leading up to the door.

“How was your sleep?” you asked cautiously, the question feeling strange on your tongue knowing how long it had been since he had slept at all.

“It was strange,” he answered, sounding like he didn’t fully understand either. “There were no nightmares.”

“That’s good,” you replied with a smile, relieved to hear that his first sleep in a long time had not been a failure. “Any sleep without nightmares sounds like a good night to me.”

“A fair point,” he replied, standing up from the bed.

You waited, standing too still, for it to happen. For the inevitable goodbye, for him to disappear now that your agreement had been met, now that your borrowed time had come to an end.

But he didn’t disappear, instead getting out of bed and strapping his swords back to his sides, each movement he made making you wonder if it was the last one you would ever see him make. You were still waiting with dread as he came to a stop before you, looking at you with concern.

Instead of saying anything about your demeanor, he chose to bypass it entirely. “I can sense your pet outside.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied after a brief moment of confusion before realizing that maybe he wanted to say goodbye to Kosen too before leaving. “He’s waiting outside.”

You wanted to say it then, to ask him if he really had to leave, but fear stilled your tongue and you turned instead to lead him out of the room and down to Kosen.

The walk outside was too silent, and you hoped that Yone didn’t find it as stifling as you did. All the words you wanted to say were spoken instead in your mind, hoping that you would have the courage to say them when you got outside.

You exited the hotel, Yone still silent behind you, to see Kosen across the street right where you had left him. The tiger perked up when he saw you, but noticed your emotional state as soon as he was within five feet, his eyes piercing through you knowingly, as if to say you didn’t ask him yet?

You shook your head minutely at Kosen, who huffed at you in playful exasperation. Yone paid the interaction no mind, coming to a stop before the azakana, who turned his head away as if to snub Yone.

Yone laughed at the tiger’s display. “I had hoped a night of feasting on the emotions of innocents would have evened your temper.”

Yone’s taunt worked perfectly, Kosen’s head turning sharply to face him, ears flattening against his head in time with his ruffled warning growl.

You smiled at the scene, the courage to try coming to you at last.

“You sure you don’t want to kill us?” you asked jokingly. “Last chance.”

Yone turned to you, staring silently as if he was giving the question genuine thought, though the lightness in his exposed eye betrayed him.

“You and your pet demon will not be felled by my sword,” he confirmed lightheartedly, which brought a smile to your face, making it easier for you to make an attempt to form the words you had been idly rehearsing in your head all morning.

You could feel Kosen looking at you, likely sensing what was coming. You could only hope this would go well, knowing any thoughts in the other direction right now would make you lose your nerve.

“We make a good team,” you said, trying not to sound as anxious as you felt. You didn’t want to do anything to scare him away, or make him feel like he had to agree to stay. “We don’t have to go our own ways, if you don’t want to. You could stay with us.”

You expected pause, but your heart twinged in your chest when the look of shock, even horror, took over Yone’s features. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, when you were interrupted by a frantic voice behind you.

“Miss!” a young boy called out to you, looking out of breath as he came to a stop before you. “You’re a warrior, right?”

You didn’t want to look away from Yone, terrified that he would vanish the second you did, but something in the boy’s voice put you similarly on edge.

“I am,” you confirmed tensely, much easier than clarifying what you really were. “Is something wrong?”

“The Noxians are coming!” the boy exclaimed, the words tinging your blood icy. “The fishermen saw ships coming and they said to find all the warriors to fight them so everyone else can run away before we die!”

This was just what you didn’t need right now, the boy running off to gather others before you could ask him any further questions.

Kosen let out a soft chuff, which you answered with a nod. This discussion could happen later, after the issue of the Noxians had been handled. “We should go to the harbor and assess the situation.”

You took a few steps towards the direction of the water, noticing immediately that Yone wasn’t following you.

“…Yone?” you prompted, incredibly unnerved by the tension still in his face, his posture stiff. “We need to go, we likely don’t have much time.”

Yone’s eye went hard, all conflict vanishing from his face as if he had come to a decision.

“It does not concern me.”

“What?” You stared at him, not understanding, not until he spoke again.

“War creates more azakana,” he insisted sharply. “I have no time to waste fighting human battles when hundreds of azakana will soon be born.”

You noticed all too clearly that he had said I, not we, his words enraging you all the same.

“I know how azakana are created,” you replied, storming back over to him, his suddenly impassive gaze making you feel like you were talking to a stranger. “But there are people here now who will die if we just leave. Do you care so little about people’s lives?”

“I care about protecting them from threats they will not see coming,” he hissed back.

“There won’t be anything left for the azakana if the Noxians rip them apart first!” you argued, temper flaring. “Are you really so desperate to reject humanity that you would let this whole town die?”

You had been trying to get through to him, but by the fierce look in his eye, you realized you had done the exact opposite. You saw the warning signs on his face, reaching a hand out to him.

“Yone, wait–”

But he was gone, faster than you could ever hope to follow. Your chest was filled with regret immediately, too shocked to even cry.

Kosen nudged your hand with his head, letting out a sympathetic groan that drew your head down to look at him, and then the tears fell.

“Kosen…” you whimpered miserably, reality coming down on you with the force of a boulder. “I’m sorry, I messed up.”

Kosen’s growled reply told you he disagreed, the tiger always your fiercest defender.

You wanted nothing more than to sink to the ground and cry into Kosen’s fur, to mourn the loss of your high hopes, to lose yourself in your fresh loneliness and pain, but you knew you couldn’t. Your pain was not the priority, not when so many lives were at stake. So, burying your regret in your chest for now, you turned to Kosen.

“We should probably… the harbor,” you spoke between sobs, hand running along Kosen’s soft fur, the tiger patiently waiting for you to calm yourself down.

It took a few minutes for your breaths to become even again, trying to bolster your own resolve as you looked at Kosen with wet eyes.

“I guess it’s just us again,” you tried to joke, your voice just sounding miserable to your own ears. This wasn’t how you wanted this to go, wishing you could take back your last words to Yone. Maybe things could have worked out if you could have just controlled your temper. “We should… we should go.”

Kosen by your side, you had only taken a few steps again towards the coast when heavy footfalls from behind you drew your attention. Even knowing that Yone’s footsteps had never been loud, you desperately hoped that they were his as you turned, and then suddenly your day got so much worse.

Kosen stepped protectively in front of you as Shusho rushed towards you, the desperation on his face giving you pause.

“The Noxians,” he panted, clearly as out of breath as the kid had been.

“I know,” you replied, guard up, Kosen snarling at your side. “We’re going to the harbor to meet up with the others.”

“You can’t!” he protested, only spiking your ire until he continued. “I saw… a group of them in the forest. I think they intend to strike first, to push the people to their forces on the water!”

“The forest?” you echoed, horrified. How Noxian was it to corner before the slaughter. If that was the case, the people stood little chance with soldiers coming at them from both sides.

“They’re planning to strike immediately,” he insisted, gesturing wildly behind him as if the army would appear at any second. “If we don’t cut them off, nobody here will have a chance!”

You hated how right he was, hated that it wasn’t Yone here in front of you asking for your help. But Yone was gone, and you doubted you would ever see him again. What mattered now was what you could do to help these people before they were slaughtered like cattle. And then you could deal with your own issues.

Mind frustratingly made up, you unsheathed your daggers, preparing for a fight.

“Lead the way.”

You knew Kosen was unhappy; you were too, but neither of you wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t stop the Noxians currently marching through the forest.

You followed Shusho into the woods, the man ahead of you straying from the main path immediately. You hoped for both your sakes that he had any fighting capability at all if you wanted any chance of surviving this. Kosen would be no doubt eating well after all this was over, if the pain threatening to consume you alive as you ran was any indication.

The area Shusho came to a stop in was quiet, too quiet, which set off blaring alarms in your head.

“They were here!” he insisted as you could feel your suspicions rising, at least until he pointed in the direction of a group of trees. “Over there!”

You squinted, a strange black shape just visible past the trees. Given Shusho’s exclamation, you figured your element of surprise had all but fled, so you darted over, dagger raised to strike quickly, only to emerge into a stranger situation than you had expected.

There were no Noxian soldiers in the clearing, no sign that they had been there at all, but the coast was certainly not all clear.

You ignored Kosen’s growl of warning, stepping forward to get a closer look at the swirling black mass that hovered just above the grass.

The large black oval was about the size of a full-length mirror, made of swirling black shapes that looked almost like thick smoke. You resisted the urge to touch the strange shape, overcome by a sense of dread from deep within you. Whatever this was, it was deeply wrong, you knew that much.

“This feels–”

Your words turned into a scream as you were pushed harshly from behind, falling forwards into the horrible dark, which easily accepted you into its welcoming embrace.

You emerged from the portal in an instant to a world of black.

The ground beneath you looked like black glass, so clear that you could see your reflection in it. Looking around in terror, you saw tall spindly trees that looked frighteningly like human forms, their feigned limbs twisted grotesquely. Their figures looked blurry, like you were looking at them through a warped lens, the humanlike trees getting no clearer the closer you walked to them.

Where were you? The wrong feeling you had felt before was crushing you now, and it was taking all your strength to keep standing.

There was no portal in sight, so you had no way out of this place. No Kosen or Shusho either, and you had no way of knowing if you were alone here or not. This place reminded you of your nightmares, unable to keep the terror down as you looked around the never-ending black, unable to find a way out.

You wouldn’t be alone for long. Casual, unhurried steps behind you had you turning to see Shusho, who was strolling towards you like he was on the streets back in Tevasa, not in this world of dark.

“We need to get out of here,” you insisted as you rushed over to him, finding some relief in seeing someone else here, even if that someone was Shusho. “Where is my tiger?”

“Not here,” he answered flippantly, wide smile discontenting amidst all the black. “And don’t worry, I’ll be leaving soon.”

“What are you talking about?” you demanded, fear giving rise to anger at his casual tone.

“You’ll see,” he answered cryptically. “After it gets here.”

“What?” You couldn’t make sense of any of this, but something in his words unnerved you worse than the portal or the creepy trees.

And then there was what felt like a ripple in the air, one that felt so horrible that it sent you to your knees, daggers clattering to the floor in favor of clasping your hands over your ears to try and block out the feelings attacking you.

The ripple vanished as soon as it had come, leaving you feeling breathless and small on the ground as you looked up to see a figure so large that it swallowed the sky, a figure you had thought you would only ever see again in your nightmares.

“No… no…” you gasped, trying to reach for your daggers, but hands shaking too hard to grasp hold of them.

“Sweet daughter of sorrow,” it purred, voice so intense in this place that it shook the ground beneath you. “Surely you did not think you would be spared forever?”

“This can’t be happening right now…” you shuddered, breathing hard as you looked to your side, to where Kosen always was, to see only your reflection in the smooth black ground. You looked like a mess, eyes wide with fear, Shusho’s grinning form looming behind you like a sinister shadow, which drew your attention back to his strange calm.

“What are you doing?” you implored him, eyes still darting around for an escape. “We need to get out of here now. You don’t know what that thing is capable of!”

“No, I don’t think so,” he replied, and then something clicked into place in your mind. He was far too casual, too nonchalant in the face of the horrors all around you, for the nightmarish beast in the sky who seemed content to watch the scene before it with a wide, hungry smile.

“What did you do?” you questioned him, voice shaky with anger.

“Nothing you didn’t deserve,” he answered smugly.

“What did you do?” you repeated furiously, your hands finding grip on your daggers at last, up on your feet in an instant.

“All I did was pay you back for being such a stuck-up bitch,” he retorted haughtily. “I told you you’d regret thinking you were too good for me, and now I’m gonna get what I’m owed.”

“So then all that stuff about the Noxians?” you prompted, needing to confirm your suspicions.

Shusho’s laugh sounded even louder in this quiet, barren world. “Worked even better than I thought. Kid only wanted two gold to run over and cry Noxians. I knew your little boyfriend wouldn’t be one to stick around for any real threats. After that, it was easy to lure you to the portal and push you in.”

“Wait, then there isn’t a Noxian fleet at all?” you gasped, your suspicions not having progressed past the forest yet.

“You catch on slow,” he sniffed. “Good thing I’m not interested in your brains. That’s the deal.”

“Are you insane?” you shouted, keeping one eye on the azakana that had destroyed your life so many years ago. “Whatever it promised you, it lied. Azakana don’t honor their deals or care about anything but themselves!”

“It didn’t promise too much,” Shusho replied haughtily, clearly unconvinced by your words. “It’s sure got a big thing for you, not hard to see why. Our deal was easy, it eats your soul and I get what’s left over minus all the attitude for whatever I want. Win-win.”

You felt sick at the realization. This sick freak made a deal with an azakana just to get to a body that couldn’t say no?

“If you think you’ll be around long enough for that to happen, you’re stupider than I thought,” you seethed, weapons now at the ready.

Shusho actually looked briefly startled by your threat, his eyes darting to the dark shape that was the sky, who seemed to be relishing the scene before it.

“Well what are you waiting for?” he shrieked at the azakana, backing away from you with quick steps.

“She speaks true,” it drawled, coming to loom over both of you, plunging the area into its shadow. “You have brought me my long-awaited meal, but I will not overlook an appetizer. Not when it has walked itself most willingly into my den.”

It was Shusho’s turn to panic now, his face red with anger. “You– we had a deal! Fine, just eat her then, I’m leaving!”

“Where will you go?” the azakana purred. “There is nowhere to run now. It is time for a lesson that you will learn too late.”

You dashed away from Shusho as the shadow descended rapidly, plucking Shusho from the floor as easily as if he weighed nothing. His final scream was short as he was pulled apart from every direction, vanishing into the darkness as if he was never there.

You felt nothing but contempt for the conman; he had gotten what he deserved, but that still left you without a solution for your problem. If the azakana from your childhood went to these lengths to get you here, then you had little chance of making it out of this alive.

Your last thought before its attention turned to you was of Kosen. You were sorry to leave him, and hoped he would be okay after you were gone. But for now, you intended to put up a fight, daunting as it was.

Yone walked silently through the forest, accompanied by only his troubled thoughts.

He had been so close, so desperate to take your offer, to feel like he could be alive again.

But he couldn’t, and the truth of why was plain on his face. Nobody could look at him and see anything but a monster, nobody but you. He didn’t belong to the human world, given he hadn’t been human in many years, he had lost that right after all his failures.

You were so good, so human, and it reminded him of everything he could have been, if he hadn’t turned into what he was. You remained human, even amidst the worst moment of your life, while he had fallen so low that he was unrecognizable. He had become just like the monsters he hunted, and needed to remain far from you. You were beautiful, a ray of light far too bright for his eyes, one that he wouldn’t allow himself to taint. The sight of your frantic expression just before he left had nearly broke him, and again it was because of him, because his fragile control of himself was so fractured when he was around you.

He would disappear back into the darkness, kill azakana from the shadows, and never be so foolish again. To think that he would accuse you of being a monster, when he was the one whose soul was tainted by regrets that he refused to acknowledge. This was his role, he resolved, even as his soul screamed at him to return to you. He would never make a mistake like that again, never pretend to be anything but a monster.

Yone’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a strong azakana presence that was only getting closer. The Noxian invasion had to have begun then, his mind drifting to you almost against his will before he snapped it back to the present. This was familiar, this was his purpose, and with that in mind, he drew his swords, ready to go back to the dull and familiar.

What emerged from the brush stilled his swords. Kosen, in his azakana form, leaped through the brush, Yone’s frustration vanishing as soon as he noticed the tiger’s erratic behavior.

Kosen roared at him, unable to stay still in his panic. His roars sounded like nothing Yone had heard from him before, not even when they had first met. As he stared at the clearly-frantic azakana, Yone realized with an unsettling feeling that you were nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” he asked, unable to shake the horrible feeling that had settled over him.

Kosen didn’t waste a second, roaring furiously before turning around and rocketing back where he had come from. Fear spiking, Yone darted after him without another word, both of them easily able to move through the forest at top speed.

What would he see when they got to wherever Kosen was leading him? Yone knew the azakana cared deeply for you, and so it would likely take a very dire situation for him to leave your side to find help.

Would you be lying in your own blood, cleaved apart by Noxian soldiers, or worse? Yone had a hard time imagining what could be worse, but he desperately hoped you would still be alive by the time he got there.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had left thinking you would be better off without him, so what could have happened in the short time since he had left you?

What Yone found instead of the bloodshed he had expected was a violently swirling portal, the tendrils of black that made up its surface whipping around like they were waves in the midst of a storm.

Kosen’s furor only got more intense as he dashed over to the portal, leaping at it, only to instead leap through it as if it wasn’t there. Turning back to Yone, Kosen yowled desperately, trying to explain what had happened to you.

“She’s in there,” Yone asserted, Kosen growling an agreement.

The confirmation only made his bad feeling grow worse. The portal in front of him was clearly demonic in nature; Yone could feel the waves of power radiating off it as if the azakana that had no doubt created it was standing before him. Wherever you were now, if you had gone through that portal, then your life would clearly be in very immediate danger.

Without a second thought, Yone dashed through the portal… only to move through it instead, just as Kosen had. Trying again, Yone was met with the same result, his failure sparking an unfamiliar wave of panic within him.

Kosen seemed equally as dismayed by his failure, which made Yone wonder just how you had gone through without Kosen. You weren’t risk-averse, but he had also known you not to be foolish. He respected your skill, but you would have to have known that this was a clear danger to you, so then why…?

Regret festered in his mind. Yone had long shied away from regrets; he was no longer who he had been back when he was alive, what right did he have to carry any regrets? Monsters couldn’t regret.

But right now, Yone knew he would regret it for the rest of his existence if he couldn’t get to you right now.

Dashing to the portal once more, Yone entered it this time, unaware of his mask slipping off his face at long last and falling to the ground.

The shadow liked to talk while you fought.

“So naïve,” it chided you, as if you were a misbehaving child. “Untainted by suspicion. Unseeing of coincidences.”

“Speak plainly!” you insisted, dodging a slash from one of its many shadowed arms. You had a feeling that it wasn’t using anywhere near all of its strength, intent on gathering as much of your tortured emotions together as possible before it devoured you, which was something you could work with for now if you ever wanted to see Kosen again.

The azakana was only too happy to indulge your request for information.

“Sweet child of sorrow, I have seen you reach for salvation,” he alliterated, which only served to annoy you more as you severed another arm at the wrist before it could reach you. “I could not allow my long-simmered meal to become tainted with gaiety, so it has become time to bring you back to me.”

“So you promised some rapist a mindless corpse to fuck?” you seethed. Killing Shusho was likely the only good thing this monster would ever do.

“He was quite useful,” the azakana replied, seeming pleased by its own work. “But it took so much more to bring you here to me. Here, where we can finally be together again.”

You grew tired of the demon not just saying what it meant, resolving not to give it what it wanted and instead focusing on hacking as many arms apart as you could, their puppet master still widely grinning down at you with sharp teeth.

“It is no matter to bend weaker brethren to my will,” it bragged, your thoughts immediately turning to the only azakana you had any contact with recently.

“Then you… made it flee?” you asked, needing to know.

“And I made it die,” it responded gleefully, which only pushed your confidence in yourself lower; if this azakana had the power to command others to die, then it was the strongest opponent you had ever faced.

Cruel laughter accompanied your realizations; it was in their nature to sense emotions, so your downswing had been detected immediately. You could not hide anything from the source of your oldest pain, and you both knew it. You had been stupid to believe that you were free, to dismiss your sole survivor status as a coincidence after so many years of being free was exactly what had brought you here.

You didn’t want to die, especially not here in this lonely black world. Shusho’s death had been quick, ultimately meaningless to the shadow that was the sky, but yours has meaning to it. Yours was a prize that it had waited so many years for and you knew there was little chance that the consumption of your soul would be just as drawn out.

You hoped Kosen would be okay without you, back there in the world you had shared with him for so many years. And more than anything else, you wish you had seen this coming.

The azakana reached out to you with so many arms, just like the twisted ones on the trees surrounding you, and this time, you didn’t think you could repel them all.

It was so silent that you heard the shout of your name loud and clear in time with the arms that dotted the sky all being slashed in half at once, the azakana’s resulting shriek telling you that it had actually felt some level of pain from the attack.

The figure that appeared next to you was so familiar in all ways, barring the two red eyes that met yours, wide with desperation.

“Yone…?”

You couldn’t believe it was him, that he was really here. You were so sure that you would die without seeing him again, whether you made it out of here or not.

While you stood in stunned silence, Yone quickly sheathed one sword, reaching out to take hold of your arm. “Are you okay?”

You were still so shocked to see him without a mask that it took you a long moment to gather yourself. He had found you. He had come back for you. The information was almost too much to accept. The tenderness in his eyes and the firmness of his touch made you immediately feel less alone.

“Is Kosen okay?’ you asked, needing to know if Shusho had done anything to your closest friend.

“He found me,” Yone explained. “He was unable to enter the portal. I’m suspecting now that it blocks unwanted azakana from interfering.”

“So he’s okay,” you said, body sagging with relief. You didn’t know what you would have done if something had happened to him.

“Why did you come here alone?” Yone asked, voice less accusing and more concerned.

“I wasn’t alone,” you scoffed. “Shusho lured me into the forest, said the Noxians were planning an ambush and then pushed me into the portal. Turns out it was all lies, Noxus isn’t invading at all. He even paid that kid off to… separate us.”

You felt too uncomfortable to admit that they had been trying to scare Yone off, not wanting him to feel bad, but his face fell all the same.

“…and I played my part,” he admitted bitterly, easily understanding the situation before his expression turned deadly. “Where is he?”

“Dead,” you answered with no shame or guilt. “Trusted an azakana to keep its end of the deal and paid the price.”

“…and his end?” Yone insisted, voice tight with the foresight that he wasn’t going to like whatever the answer was.

“I’ll tell you if we live,” you replied, noticing that the demonic arms were beginning to reforge themselves around you again.

As you stared at the azakana overlooking you both with hunger, you realized you hadn’t explained everything yet, and were rapidly running out of time for the most important part.

“Yone, this is the one from my village,” you spoke gravely, mind flashing back to that scene against your will. “It lured us here using that fire demon. I think it’s been after me for a long time and I’ve just been too stupid to notice. Just… this isn’t your fight if you don’t want it to be. I need you to know that.”

You weren’t entirely sure there was even a way out of here, but you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you didn’t give him an out regardless. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I won’t leave your side again,” he replied, resolve firm as he assessed the situation.

“Okay,” you said, unable to keep the relief off of your face, much to the azakana’s displeasure.

“Sweetest sorrow, you will still end here,” it taunted you from the sky. “I think I will kill him in front of you before I claim you for mine at last.”

“Greater azakana have failed,” Yone hissed back, taking a protective stance in front of you.

You got into a fighting stance as well, unwilling to be an easy meal for the monster that had butchered your family and village. You had to believe you would live, that you could defeat the threat that was all around you. You wanted to leave here with Yone, to see Kosen again, to fight your way back to the world you wanted to return to.

The onslaught was immediate, your burgeoning hope likely souring your taste to the demon who struck out with a thousand arms at once.

He was clearly aiming for Yone, attempting to make good on his threats, but Yone wasn’t easy prey. Yone dashed forward with a sweeping slash, easily destroying dozens of shadowy hands with one swipe of his blade. There was no true wind in this place, but his graceful movements almost looked like he was dancing with the air, the azakana’s attacks ripped up as if they were in the midst of a tornado.

You did your best to cover any areas Yone couldn’t, but you still felt like you weren’t contributing anywhere near equally. Yone fought with a fury you had never seen in him, a desperation that you hoped that you had a hope of matching.

You had no idea how long you had been fighting for. Your stress seemed to warp your sense of time entirely, twisting it into being measured by the next movement you made, unable to think of anything but your survival.

Slowly, you began to feel that you were gaining the upper hand. With every limb you cut down, less and less took its place, but the small victory did not come without consequence.

You couldn’t deny your own condition was worsening, every move you made draining a little more energy from you. As you panted, Yone struck fiercely, ignoring the arms now to lash out at the azakana itself.

You were intent on doing your part, even as your muscles ached and your lungs burned with fatigue. You would not let Yone down.

The azakana had long since lost its composure, screeching out incoherently as each attempt to kill Yone fell apart at the seams.

You saw its last-ditch attempt first, veins of black slithering along the ground, twining together to create a clawed hand, each nail sharpened to a deadly point. From the size alone, you doubted it could be easily broken apart… and it was aimed straight at Yone.

“Yone!” you screamed, but your voice seemed to come out as if you were trapped in a glass box, and as you ran in the direction of the clawed hand, you discovered why.

You reeled back from the wall you couldn’t see, the contact with the now-distorted air like a shock to your system, the pain crushing until you jumped back from it. The azakana had created some sort of invisible box around you as you fought, and now you were cut off from Yone, forced to watch in horror.

You were terrified by your own helplessness, begging Yone to turn back and see what was coming, but he didn’t. Trying to break through the barrier again only brought you more excruciating pain, like you were being stabbed with a thousand needles at once, forcing you to pull back again.

“Watch,” the azakana’s voice whispered in your ear. “Watch as he dies.”

“No!” you screamed, stabbing desperately at the barrier that surrounded you, pinpricks of pain shooting up your arms, but you didn’t stop as you watched the hand slink through the dark towards where Yone confronted the azakana’s masked smile. “Yone, behind you! Yone!”

But he didn’t, locked in combat with the azakana, unaware of anything other than taking it down. The hand would wait no longer, shooting across the sky, intent on piercing through Yone, if the azakana’s continued chanting of watch him die only getting louder all around you was any indication.

Your feet spurned into action, not having even a second to spare. You were ready for the wall this time, sprinting full force at it, agony immediately catching fire along your skin.

Clenching your teeth against the pain, you pushed harder. No pain would be worse than losing Yone right now, and it was that thought that broke your head through the barrier as if you broke through the surface of the ocean.

“Yone!”

Your scream rang out through the quiet like a gunshot, Yone turning immediately, spotting the weapon the azakana had intended to end his life with. In a split second as you watched, frozen with pain, Yone moved swiftly out of the way, the demon hand unable to correct course, piercing its own mask through the hooked nose.

You felt the barrier dissolve immediately, falling to your knees as the aftershocks of pain began to ebb and then vanish completely.

It was so quiet. Looking up to the sky, you saw the azakana’s mask crumbling to pieces, the deep black demon no longer there to fill it.

You lost sight of the crumbling demon as your vision was taken up by Yone landing near you, crouching down before you, a hand resting on your cheek.

“You’re alive,” you said, still in shock.

“Because you warned me,” he replied, leaning forward to kiss you.

It was a gentle kiss, one you happily reciprocated, leaning into Yone even as your muscles screamed at you.

Pulling apart, you couldn’t help but smile. “If you still had your mask, I think it would be poking me in the eyes right about now.”

“My–” Yone looked shocked, his deep red eyes wide as he reached up to feel the face that had been hidden from him for so long. “But how…?”

“You said Kosen couldn’t come through the portal,” you said, coming to a realization that made you smile. “Didn’t you say you thought no azakana could enter?”

“I… did,” he confirmed, voice shaking, eyes trained on your face as if you were the one who was recently unmasked.

“Then you’re human, Yone,” you insisted gently, the revelation stunning him into silence. “…does that bother you?”

Yone let out a shaky breath, one that he had probably been holding in for years.

“…no,” he answered at last, leaning forward to rest his head on your shoulder, his hair tickling your cheek. “I didn’t care what I had to become as long as I could protect you.”

You reached a hand up, idly petting his hair until you noticed something forming behind him.

“Yone, I think we can go now,” you spoke, eyes on the reward for all your hard work, the shining white portal an inversion of the one you had been shoved into.

Standing up together, you made your way to the portal, your fatigue fading in the face of the way out, walking towards safety with Yone at your side.

It was dark when you both emerged from the portal, your field of vision reduced to black as you were tackled to the ground by a ferociously worried Kosen.

“I missed you too,” you laughed, Kosen rubbing his face all over you, his broken purr loud in your ears.

It took a while for Kosen to let you up as you tried to explain what had happened, the azakana especially happy to hear about what had become of Shusho, if not slightly disappointed that he didn’t get to him first.

You were petting Kosen’s head when you finally noticed Yone behind you, staring down at his hand, which grasped the mask that used to be on his face. It must be strange for him, seeing the demon whose face he had worn for so long in his hands, no longer able to hide his face below its own.

The demon was long dead, but now it would truly hold no power in this world.

Kosen noticed your new focus and nudged your hand, looking at you with knowing eyes.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you it’s not like that?” you whispered, the tiger snorting his answer, which made you smile. “Okay, maybe we kissed. Once. I think he’s staying with us, Kosen.”

Kosen huffed, his eyes clearly reading well, that was obvious. He groaned at you, jerking his head towards Yone while standing up, distancing himself from your fingers and retreating towards a thick brush.

“Wait, Kosen, I–” you tried to protest, but he was gone, and you could swear you could hear his amused huffs in the distance.

Closing your eyes tightly, you took a second to compose yourself. Were you really being the recipient of Kosen’s wingman skills that you had no idea he had even possessed?

Standing up, you made your way over to Yone, who looked up from his mask as you entered his field of vision.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your gaze going down to the mask and then back up to his eyes in silent question.

Yone sighed, allowing the mask to drop from his grip and fall back onto the grass. “I thought I had moved on from my past, let my regrets lie back in that spot where I died… I never thought I would wear regret so plainly on my face.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you said gently, resting a hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort him. “Nobody wants to face the worst moment in their life head on. I know I couldn’t have survived mine again without you. I still can’t believe I’m free.”

“It wouldn’t have had the chance to take you if not for me,” Yone remarked bitterly.

“I don’t care,” you declared, boldly moving to wrap your arms around Yone’s neck, his focus shifting entirely to how close you were, hands ghosting over your waist as if he was unsure whether or not to reciprocate. “I just don’t want you to leave me again, if that’s okay with you.”

“I…” Yone seemed speechless, but then you felt his hands make contact with your waist at last, his touch steady, decisive.

Yone stepped closer to you, the crunch of his old mask underfoot ringing out in the silent forest. You looked down, barely able to see the now-cracked mask before Yone’s speed overtook you and you were pressed against a tree, his mouth on yours.

“Your guard cat has left his post,” Yone mused, pulling back only slightly from the kiss, red eyes alight with an intent that made you flush with anticipation.

You knew you had wanted his body on yours for a while now, unable to pin down the exact moment your feelings had changed while he was looking at you like he wanted you just as badly.

You had never kissed anyone before, only wondered idly what you were missing, but now, you didn’t think you could go on without knowing what it would be like to give yourself to someone entirely. In your pitiful daydreams, no man could ever come close to Yone, his heart as valuable to you as his body. But right now, all of your focus was on his body, pressed closely against you, his eyes on yours seemingly awaiting a response, a confirmation, you realized.

“Please,” you whispered, wanting nothing more right now than to have his lips on yours again.

The single word seemed to do something to Yone, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out a shaky exhale. You gave him the moment he clearly needed, the vulnerable expression on his face bringing a smile to your lips. Had he shown this face to anyone else? Even before he died, he seemed to think his own feelings were a burden to others. Seeing him like this now only made you want to push him further, to see more expressions that were for your eyes only. So when his eyes opened again, you pounced, knocking both of you to the ground.

Even as he fell onto his back, you noticed that Yone made sure to cushion your fall with his body, only making you more sure that this was what you had been missing for so many years.

You didn’t let your inexperience bother you, eager kisses pressed to Yone’s neck immediately rewarding you with a deep groan from his lips, his hand coming to anchor itself in your hair.

He looked so good under you, cheeks flushed and dark hair spread out under him, looking like he needed no more than you right now in this moment.

But Yone wanted more than to be stared at, pulling you back down to him, his tongue against yours catching you off guard long enough for him to move you onto your back, your belt off and discarded before you noticed what was happening.

“Back then,” he rasped, pulling your pants and underwear down and off your willing legs, his hand then kneading your thigh, your shirt riding up with your squirming to fully expose your pussy to his hungry eyes. “Back then, in that inn… I didn’t deserve you, but I wanted you.”

Your mind flashed back to that night, to Yone teasing you before his bath… you wished you had known how he really felt back then. For now, you wanted to keep seeing that look on his face aimed in your direction.

“I thought I was dreaming,” you admitted with a breathy laugh as Yone continued to draw circles idly on your thigh. “I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Your words spurred him into action, and then he was lifting your legs, easing your thighs over his shoulders as his mouth settled between your legs.

You were so sensitive that every brush of his tongue against you felt like a shock to your system. You felt Yone shiver against you as you moaned his name, redoubling his efforts in response, your nails digging into the ground as you tried to keep yourself still, not wanting to offset his tongue by even an inch, Yone finding the perfect angle that even you struggled to find sometimes in an instant.

You had thought he had as little experience as you, but he was eating you out like he had done so a thousand times, your cries of his name turning to babbled gibberish against your will. Nothing you had ever done to yourself could compare to Yone’s determined tongue, his breath coming out in hot pants against your sensitive skin.

“Yone,” you moaned as the pressure began to intensify too fast for you to properly explain, but Yone seemed to understand. “Please, it’s…”

Bracing one arm on your stomach to gently keep you from squirming, Yone barraged your clit with his tongue, again and again in that one spot that you needed so badly. You tried your best in your hazy state to keep your thighs from compressing his head, but Yone embraced it instead, his other hand held tight to one thigh, locking you in place just where he wanted you.

Tears came to your eyes as you finally, finally got there, your orgasm drawn out expertly by the man between your legs who finally pulled back with a satisfied smile, his deep red eyes meeting yours.

As you breathed through the tiny aftershocks of pleasure, one thought came clearly to the front of your mind. You wanted to see what face he would make when it was him on the receiving end. Chest heaving from exertion, you forced yourself up on shaky arms, reaching out for Yone’s belt that still bared the masks of fallen azakana.

Yone let you toss his belt to the side, neither of you paying the demonic death masks any mind. You looked up at Yone’s face as you untied his sarong, his red eyes watching you intently.

Any brief doubts you had of Yone’s interest in you were erased as he discarded his sarong himself, leaning into you as you ran a hand along his very hard cock, the outline clear against his tight pants.

Yone groaned your name in your ear as you continued to stroke him through his pants, the usually-stoic man clearly as desperate as you were.

“I don’t–” he panted, pressing heated kisses against your neck. “I want to be inside you.”

“I want that too,” you admitted heatedly. “Show me what you wanted to do to me in that inn.”

Your words got immediate response from Yone, who had you flat on your back in an instant, his mouth on yours and clothed hips canting into yours.

Reaching a hand between your bodies, you opened your shirt’s front clasps, exposing your bra to the air, Yone drawing back with a sharp inhale, looking entranced by you.

“I dreamed about you that night,” he admitted, rearing back to take his pants off with determined intent. “I woke up and you weren’t there. If you had been there next to me, I don’t think I could’ve resisted you.”

You shivered, again wishing that you had been there, wishing he had told you this then. You clearly had a lot of making up to do.

Sitting up, you took your shirt and bra off, tossing them to join Yone’s clothing in the grass.

Putting a hand on his shoulder, you prompted Yone back to a sitting position, his hands coming to your sides as you climbed into his lap, leaning in to kiss his waiting mouth. Yone responded eagerly, one hand coming to the side of your head, his tongue against yours making your face dizzy with heat.

He was so hard against you, and you were so impatient now, pulling back briefly enough to lift yourself angling Yone’s cock just right before sinking down onto him, the man letting out a low groan of surprise, eyes shutting briefly as he easily bottomed out with how wet you were.

Yone looked wrecked already as he opened his eyes again, his hand stroking your hair as he looked at you in a way you never thought you would ever see.

“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, his hands going back down to your waist to begin to lift you up and down on his lap, any words you were going to say in response swallowed by his lips, which sought yours every time you came back down.

Your own hands roamed his upper body, along his bandaged arms, feeling his muscles flex as he smoothly maneuvered you, so perceptive to every little noise you made.

Just as you felt your legs giving out on you, you found yourself flat on your back again, Yone above you, hiking your legs up and over his hips. You wordlessly obeyed, mesmerized by the look of him, hair mussed, staring at you with reverence.

And then he was back inside you and you forgot everything but his name, clawing at his body, his arm wrappings coming loose from your frantic fingers.

“You feel so good,” he groaned at your ear, the words going straight to your head, the feeling in your lower stomach doubling instantly.

You needed to make him cum. Finding a second wind with that resolution, you met his thrusts, pulling his hips down into yours with an intensity that seemed to break something in Yone, his body flattening you to the ground, keeping your body tight to his as he pounded into you now, pace frantic.

You couldn’t talk, couldn’t tell Yone just how close you were again as he fucked you into the ground, pressing hot kisses to your mouth, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you came again.

Pushing through your quickly-approaching overstimulation, you rolled your hips up to meet Yone’s, leaning up to meet tongues with him for a few more intense moments before he stilled at last, clutching you to him, passionate kisses turning soft as he rolled you onto your sides, pulling back to press his forehead against yours.

Yone looked almost in disbelief as he brushed a hand against your cheek, smiling softly at you when you leaned into his hand.

“I suppose maybe I am human,” he mused, petting your hair as you cuddled up to him, his heartbeat against your ear only further affirming his words.

“Then I guess you’re stuck with me now,” you said slyly, more sure of it now than ever. “Unless you can think up a good excuse to flee into the night.”

You expected him to laugh, but he was quiet for a long moment, so quiet that you pulled back from his chest to look at his face, his mouth set in a frown that gave you pause.

“I won’t leave you again,” he promised, eyes resolute. “I won’t allow my cowardice to nearly take you from me again.”

“You didn’t know,” you replied sternly, unwilling to allow him to sink back into regret. “I think I’ve done quite enough to prove to you that I’m still alive and well.”

You accompanied your words with a clenching of your inner muscles on his half-hard cock, still inside you, the feeling sending Yone’s eyes closing shut with a groan. “…unless you need another demonstration?”

“…please,” Yone’s desperate voice relented immediately, and you were only happy to oblige.

#x reader #reader insert #league of legends #league of legends yone #yone #lol x reader #league of legends x reader #smut

[mattatouilletkachuk]

Never Felt More Alone || Meet The Mercers au

a/n: I finally got around to doing something for ‘Meet The Mercers’. This was the one I was probably looking forward to the most and I can’t wait to get deeper into this au with you guys!

wc: 1k+

Warnings: mentions of abortion, unplanned pregnancy, crying, angst

Summary: Hooking up with a hockey player she met at a bar on her birthday wasn’t supposed to have consequences. It does, though.

Part of ‘The Hockey Babies au’ and ‘Meet The Mercers’. This au is interactive so any asks, thoughts, requests or ideas are always welcomed!

When the first pregnancy test came back positive she felt like throwing up.

When the second one came back positive she thought that she might faint.

When she had to schedule an appointment with her doctor to confirm what the at-home tests were saying she wanted to cry.

Right now, well, she just feels disconnected from herself and her body as she sits completely still as her doctor confirms that she is pregnant. She listens and nods robotically as the doctor tells her about her options in a calm voice. She can’t help but think of how rude she must seem to this other woman. Instead of her own voice, it’s her mother's voice in her head scolding her for not looking the doctor in the eye. For not replying with any words like she had been taught.

She wants to laugh. There were a lot of things she was taught were right and wrong. Getting pregnant by some random hookup before she graduates college was never explicitly taught because her parents had raised her better. She wonders what their reactions will be as she’s handed pamphlets.

When the appointment is over she thanks the doctor and promises to make another appointment soon.

Her mind is blissfully blank as she walks out of the room, avoiding the pregnant women sitting in the waiting room. It’s not until she’s sitting in the passenger seat of her best friend's car that it all finally hits her. Her friend simply pulls into a parking spot and lets her cry. Her friend doesn’t say anything but she rubs her back to let her know she isn’t alone.

“I’m so stupid,” she manages between cries. Her breathing is calming down slowly but the tears don’t stop.

Her best friend, the same girl she met on her first day of college, hushes her and pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and says softly. “You’re not stupid. You couldn’t have predicted this was gonna happen.”

She wiped away her tears and looked at her friend. Seeing her kind eyes looking back at her made her want to break again. “Even if that’s true, my parents are going to kill me.”

Her friend grimaced. She had met her parents several times. Even spending time at their Summer home in Cape Cod for the past four years. Her parents were lovely people but they had high standards for their daughter and everyone who ever saw them interact with her could see that. They were rich and traditional and would gasket when they learned that their pride and joy was knocked up by some stranger.

It was only then that she glanced down at the pamphlets she was still holding. The top one read ‘It’s Your Choice: What You Should Know About Abortion”. Maybe her parents didn’t have to know. Maybe this was something she didn’t have to deal with. This could just be a little bump in the way of her life that she would never have to think about ever again.

Her friend saw her looking at the pamphlet before asking with no trace of judgment in her voice, “Is that what you want!”

A fresh tear rolled down her cheek but she didn’t respond.

“If it is, I’m by your side all the way, but if you do it you should do it for yourself not because you're afraid of your parents knowing.” It was her friend who wiped away the tears from her cheeks this time. “I just want you to know that you would make an amazing mother, whether it’s now or sometime in the future.”

They sat in the car with a random radio station playing quietly over the speakers as they sat silent.

With a deep sigh, she opened the glove department and put the pamphlets in before shutting it again. She looked at her friend and smiled. It was a bit wobbly but it wasn’t fake.

“I’m keeping the baby.”

Her friend smiled and pulled her into a hug as best as she could over the center console.

They didn’t talk much as they drove back to their shared apartment in the City. She tried her best not to think about the fact that her parents paid for this apartment. She was a part of a sorority and volunteered all around New York but she never actually had a job. Her parents always told her to focus on her studies and they would handle everything else but now she needed to grow up and do it soon.

When they finally settled inside, she flipped down onto their large couch while her friend went to the kitchen to get them something to drink. She wasn’t prepared at all for her friend to come back into the living room with a crumpled napkin.

“So would now be a bad time to mention that the hockey guy you hooked up with on your birthday and who knocked you up left his phone number on the fridge.”

You grabbed the napkin she held out and looked at it.

Had a fun time. I would love to hangout again sometime. Call me sometime.

- Dawson (xxx-xxx-xxxx)

You were so worried about having to tell your parents that you completely forgot that there was another person in this equation. Truthfully, you had hoped that because you didn’t see him the next morning after hooking up with him it meant fate wanted you to be a single mother. How were you supposed to tell a professional hockey player that you were pregnant with his baby?

Did you have to tell him? It’s not like he knew you and he was probably still drunk when he wrote this. He probably goes through so many girls that you doubted he remembered you.

“Maybe I don’t have to tell him. It would probably be for the best.”

You’re voice was weak and the hand holding the napkin was shaking.

“Maybe you should sit on that thought for a little bit.” Your friend and you could tell that she didn’t like your answer.

It didn’t matter, though. You were the one who was pregnant with some random athlete's baby.

#the hockey babies au #meet the mercers #dawson mercer x reader #my writing #nhl imagines #hockey babies au #dawson mercer

[veritas-scribblings]

ration - @jegulus-microfic - words: 957

The bar thrums. James can feel the beat of the base in the floor beneath him, in the glass of warming beer he holds in his hand. Sirius, being the freak he is, has chosen some immensely depressing Pink Floyd songs as the theme for the night because, he says, it fits his ‘vibe’.

James has thought about sneaking some Taylor Swift onto the playlist, but he reckons Sirius might actually kill him for it and James fancies being alive for the moment, because he has too much to accomplish. He’s a man on a mission.

James has rented out the lower-level—the basement, Sirius calls it—for Sirius’s birthday. It’s a very hipster kind of scene: rusted piping overhead, reclaimed timber benches, rough brick walls. Sirius loves it for the irony, he says, but James doesn’t think there’s much ironic about it. 

Not with the old-fashioned punk-rock style Sirius has going on and the messy man-bun.

‘You’re here!’ James whisper-shouts over Pink Floyd’s High Hopes. 

Regulus turns around. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, ever so slight that James knows he could be mistaken. But James will take it anyway; he’ll take it all, every last crumb.

‘I’m here,’ Regulus says. Brushing his hair from his eyes, he glances around disdainfully. He doesn’t fancy crowds, James knows, and he won’t stay long. It’s just an appearance, most likely because Sirius had buttered him up enough that he has now decided to put the effort in.

‘Quite the event you’ve thrown,’ Regulus says. 

James shrugs. ‘You know Sirius. Loves to be the centre of attention.’

‘I thought that was you, but I guess you’re two of a kind. Life of the party, circle of worshipers, boy glory, fall at your feet kind.’

James chuckles. Regulus isn’t wrong, he supposes. But Regulus doesn’t fall at his feet, won’t even deign to look at James half the time. But still, James is gone. Gone, because Regulus is beautiful, smart and witty, and James is the one worshiping at the feet of his glory. Regulus is mean and prickly, soft and gentle, and James is here for all of it.

‘Buy you a drink?’ James blurts out. He’s had enough liquid courage that it’s loosened his tongue ever so slightly. He hopes that it’s loosened his tongue enough for him to eventually ask Regulus to dance.

Regulus raises an eyebrow and eyes the glass of beer that James is still holding.

The beer that is warm.

Warm with rumination. Warm with vacillation. Warm with the lonely pity-party James had been throwing for himself while he pondered whether or not Regulus would walk his way, speak to him, smile at him, dance with him…

‘It’s warm anyway,’ James shrugs. Places the glass down. ‘So, can I buy you a drink?’

Regulus laughs, barely audible over the music. A quiet, beautiful sound. What a beautiful, beautiful sound. James wishes that Regulus would do it again. And again. That Regulus may never stop finding joy in the world.

Even though Regulus had likely been laughing at him. James will be his joy, be what makes Regulus laugh…

‘Buy me a drink?’ Regulus repeats. ‘Why? Do you have an ulterior motive, Potter?’ He says this in a low, almost husky voice. ‘Hoping to get me loose?’

‘What?’ James flushes in alarm, knows that the warmth flooding him isn’t from the beers he’d been drinking. ‘What, no! I—no, no, I swear. It’s a party and you…drink…at a party?' he finishes lamely.

Regulus, James realises, is laughing at him. That beautiful, beautiful sound that is his laugh. ‘I’m teasing Potter,’ he says wryly. ‘Yes, you can buy me a drink. Two, in fact.’

James grins and beckons Regulus over to the bar, where he buys a beer for himself and two whiskeys for Regulus (because, of course, the posh bastard drinks fancy whiskey). 

But then Regulus takes the drinks, grins at James, and the son of a bitch departs. Just departs with only a ‘thank you’. A lingering look, like he’s asking James to watch him walk away. And yes, the back of Regulus is as wonderful as the front of Regulus. He’ll take every and any form of Regulus, but…

‘What?’ James breathes, speechless, flushed again. Not from the beer. This time, not even from embarrassment and horror, but from pure utter confusion and shock.

There’s a laugh, a bark that is audible over the beat of the music. So different from Regulus’s beautiful laugh. ‘He’s Regulus.’ Sirius slaps James on the shoulder in commiseration. ‘If you offer to buy him a drink, you’ll need to specify that he…you know, stay and drink it with you.’

‘What?’ James just repeats. ‘What do you mean I have to specify?’ 

Sirius roars with laughter, dropping himself down onto the bar stool next to James who is now staring despondently down into his glass. Of course Sirius is enjoying his suffering. What are friends for?

‘He’s playing hard to get, mate.’ He rubs circles comfortingly on James’s back, though he’s still laughing like this is the best thing that he’s seen and heard in a while. ‘Going to make you really work for it.’

For a moment, James hates that Sirius had managed to drag it out of him, that James is utterly gone for his little brother. Because, for some reason, Sirius just loves the idea. Not necessarily the idea of James and Regulus potentially (hopefully) together, but the idea that Regulus is going to go out of his way to make James’s pursuit of him the most drawn out and stressful endeavour of James’s short, short life.

But will James stop? No. Because James is an idiot. An idiot gone.

#harry potter #fanfiction #myfanfiction #microfics #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #james x regulus #regulus x james #myjegulusmicrofics

[thewriterowl]

hiiii, it's my birthday today, and I would love to read your (dark) din spoils Luke on his birthday, or it could be Vader.

Thank you so so much (for taking your time), and I love your fics, you're incredible!

GASP!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I hope you have an incredible and amazing birthday! All the wishes and happiness to you!

Honestly, I was tempted to write a sorta 5+1 fic with angsty Luke birthdays and then one he celebrates with soft Din XD so this is up my alley too.

I'm thinking Luke didn't really tell Din--maybe because he was kidnapped by him or maybe he doesn't yet realize Din is dark and yandere over him...but regardless, he just doesn't mention the birthday.

When he was younger he only had small celebrations for his birthday. Owen and Beru really did try for him but they weren't well off and there were a lot of harsh years with the moisture-farming and the Hutt's greedy grip was suffocating. It would take most out of them to just ensure they survived for another harvest. But they gave him what they could (and there was always a mysterious special toy given to him from someone else...Luke didn't know who) but he was the only child for miles upon miles and save for a rather kind, but older boy, from the Darklighter family, there was no one else to celebrate birthdays with. Not like any of the other children would come anyway...he wasn't very popular. Then he was busy in the Rebellion. Then he found out about his past. Then how things clicked that he was born on Empire Day. Then how most wanted to celebrate Leia's birthday, the princess of the fallen world and grand general of the war, and how they were keeping their relation a secret (more or less). Then how he just started to become more and more uncomfortable with attention and crowds and...

In the end, he just put it to the side. It didn't matter.

Sadly, it matters to Din.

It matters a lot to Din.

Din could splice into most anything with a bit of work and with his bounty-hunter penchant for research and obtaining information, he would find it on his own without much issue. But he wanted to hear it from Luke. So he pushes a bit. Even providing his own, though he wasn't big on his own either, as a trade. It still takes a bit but finally, finally, Din gets his victory.

"It falls on what was Empire Day." Luke sighed, mildly amused and mostly perplexed that this man was so invested in this information. "Of course, timing could be a little askew. Empire day started on Coruscant time and we all know the systems have their own different calendars and I was actually born on some place called Polis Massa and--"

"You're rambling."

"Well, I don't like talking about it." He grumbled.

"Why not?"

"Because it's...just not...comfortable for me." His mother and how he has no memories of her but somehow, unfairly--though he tells himself to not think like that, his sister did. How he lost so much the moment he took his first breath. How his existences sometimes felt like such a burden. It really gave him a sort of existential crisis he didn't think befitting a Jedi Master. "But, there, now you know."

And now Din indeed does know.

If Din is the (dark) Mand'alor, he will make this out to be some sort of holiday for his people. He'd gaslight Luke in saying they need something to replace the blight this day once was. Having it be a celebration of the consort, the one who was genuinely a reason why they could celebrate, would mean wonders to them. Just a little sprinkle of guilt to make it happen and the promise that Luke wouldn't have to mingle about with a lot of people like some dignitary.

He is given so much love from the people. Din shows him how everyone is celebrating. There are decorations made from his favorite colors, vendors are selling foods from Tatooine and other things he's enjoyed during his years of travel, his story of meeting Din is shared about along with all of his good deeds when he was the traveling Jedi trying to heal a broken galaxy, good is done in honor of his name, and the people are interviewed to give him well wishes and love on his birthday for him to watch in comfort and privacy.

It's so overwhelming the first year that Luke probably breaks down sobbing. He can't tell if it is a good or bad cry but Din seems to have expected this (perhaps even wanted it) and just stays close and intimately rubs his back as he murmurs, "There you go, let it all out. You had so much...too much." Which Luke, in his state, doesn't understand but still does as told.

When he wakes the next day, he feels foolish and shameful that he hid out crying like a loon when people were being so kind to him.

Din just gives him a gentle hush, "It's your day, my heart. And that is what you wanted and needed. It was a good event for them and a healing one for you. That is a success. And next year will be the same."

Of course, Din isn't done.

This man, dark or not, is a caretaker. He is going to give Luke anything and everything. Remember, he studies and hunts and always gets his answers.

He gives Luke things the blond didn't even realize he wanted. Things Luke never thought about. Things he hadn't even laid eyes upon.

It's hundreds of gifts, ranging from small, free rocks that shimmered Luke's favorite colors, to the best oil bath in the system for Artoo, to robes to match Din's, and his own private hanger so he can design, build, and take apart all the mechanical things his heart desires.

It's too much for Luke. He can't even begin to properly thank Din, unsure how to even accept any of it.

Din just smiles, his eyes glinting with some sort of ploy, as he purrs out something so tender and very much a threat, "Oh love...I haven't even begun. You, my consort, will have so much more."

#owl inbox #dinluke #dark din djarin #kinda #hope this is what you were wanting! #happy birthday again!!

[magicshop]

his smile could cure the world ♡ [Happy birthday my angel @morshiberna ♡]

cr. 0613data

#btsedit #btsgif #jimin #park jimin #bangtan #bts #mine #mine:gifs #mine:pjm #comp #userdimple #annietrack #rjshope #userpat #raplineuser #this coloring is all over the place dkfjfkfgjfkkhj but it doesn't matter because #IT'S MY BABY'S BIRTHDAY!!!! #HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING I HOPE YOU HAVE THE MOST WONDERFUL DAY <333 #wishing you so much happiness and love and luck and fulfilled dreams and laughter and comfort and warmth #i can't believe how grown you are where has time gone :( #thank you for always being so lovely and kind #and for all the giggles and love #and also for letting me vent frustrations and matching my energy djgjfghjkffjfg #you're really just like our jiminie it makes so much sense he's your bias <3 #my wish is that life lights your path with the brightest sunlight #and that you always know how amazing you are #how strong and resilient you are #and that you are capable of achieving anything you want #i'm proud of you and you should be too <3 #happy birthday sweetheart 🥹💗