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sky-kiss · 22 days

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Say You're Mine for the Ages

A/N: This is…essentially spoilers for my longfic lol. But it could change by the time I get there. Also, all those kinks I said were gonna be in this? They ain’t. Naw. I’m in corpo hell this week. There is no sexiness in corpo hell. 18+, named D!urge. All that.

You can also read it here if you prefer.

R/T: Say You're Mine for the Ages (18+ ish)

Silence.

At the end of all things, in the wash of blood and madness, all was still and silent. Raphael wondered if it wasn’t some trick—perhaps he’d gone deaf. The rustle of fabric as Baalphegor crossed the caldera promised he had not. She cut a striking image against Cania’s monochrome terrain—cinnamon and ash—as she crossed to Mephistopheles’ corpse.

The poets liked to speak of the emptiness of such victories—vengeance would leave one hollow, they said. Raphael felt anything but—the Fiend howled in his head, some great beast adding its song to the Archduke’s more flowery exultations. Won, he’d won. Mephistopheles dead, the Lord of Murder dead. Bhaal’s essence…

…Bhaal’s essence. It tasted like blood; it felt like raw power. It was standing at the eyes of the storm, feeling the winds tear at you, and laughing. The power of true divinity—his.

Theirs, he corrected, a shiver chasing along his spine. Where was the irritation the thought should have elicited? Where was the fury? The emptiness, the loneliness, the rage, as he clawed ever upwards?

Silence, Raphael thought, closing his eyes. All was silent.

The Archduke felt his Duchess as she crossed to him—like strings of power or flesh, sowing parts of her to him, shared tissue, shared power. There was a resonance—divinity her sire imbued to her by virtue of birth and the mated essence he’d stolen.

“Look,” she breathed. Joi lifted her hand to his temple, tracking downwards along his cheek and the trickle of blood. His Duchess stared, searching his face as if seeing him for the first time. Her free hand curled behind his neck. “Look at you.”

Raphael traced her lower lip. “Name me—you have earned the honor. Be the first.”

“Raphael,” she murmured, stroking his face. Her eyes burned—green like envy, flecked with gold—his queen, the joining point of so many sins. Her voice was low, her words a hymn. “Archduke of Avernus, Lord of Ambition—a god.” He shivered, kissing her—this thing, this goddess, this other half of his divine essence—drowned in the taste of her and the rush, completed…whole. Her fingers threaded through his hair, inhaling the air he breathed into her lungs. His Joi spoke against his lips. “My god.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The silence broke.

There was only noise in the aftermath—Mephistar's citadel and its halls, all full of music and laughter. Lords and Ladies from each of the Infernal Courts rotated around him, offering their praise. False praise, yes—every smile was the edge of a blade pressed to his back—but why should that matter? The devils no longer looked upon him with disdain. They stared with jealousy.

And Asmodeus offered a new title—the son of Hellfire's birthright.

"Hail, Raphael," the Dark Prince said, voice dark. He held his goblet high, dark hair hanging loose over his shoulders, handsome like roaring thunder. "Archduke of Cania, Prince of the Eighth, Lord of Ambition." Raphael sat up straight, jaw squared. A feast hall of Dukes and Duchesses, all eyes fixated upon him. Asmodeus sat at the head of the table, Lady Baalphegor on his left. And the place of honor? His. The Lord of the Nine's eyes glittered like rubies. "Hail Raphael—Right Hand of Asmodeus."

They cheered for him—hated him, this half-blooded bastard who had moved so far beyond every devil assembled. Raphael bowed his head and held up his goblet.

His Sire's throne, realm, title—everything belonged to Raphael. Mephistopheles' name would fade to nothing, and there would be only Raphael.

Blood thundered in his ears. The words rose to his tongue, heady and well-practiced. The devil might even have meant them, as magnanimous as he felt. Raphael stood, bowing his head. "Hail Asmodeus, Lord of the Ninth—the Shield of Law, a wall against the Abyss and her chaos. Without him," he flicked his gaze from the Lord to the Lady Baalphegor, beautiful, seeing too much. She tipped her head to him, hiding a smirk in her wine. "The tide would wash over us, one and all."

The corner of Asmodeus' lips ticked up. Ah, clever boy, it said.

The Lady of Murder shifted beside him, eyes dark, smiling as he took his seat. Joi slipped her hand into his, touch settling on his upper thigh. Heat radiated from her skin, through the robes, licking outwards—she squeezed.

The conversation turned towards more neutral ground: the Blood War, Raphael's plans for Cania, if he would continue his Sire's experiments—banal.

Joi's touch strayed upward.

Why should they be denied?

~~~~~~~~~~

How many centuries had he spent wandering Mephistar’s halls?

It was a tale for the poets: the cambion child, alone, his Sire’s eyes upon his every move, and pureblooded devils waiting for the slightest misstep.

He had outlasted and surpassed them, one and all. Cania and Mephistar were his, and he intended to stake his claim well and truly. He would contact the Ice Devils, and he would…

…would…

It’s difficult to think.

There’s a savagery to his divinity, worse when she’s near. The threads binding them together drew taut, as if she’d yanked them, pinned the strands beneath her heel to keep him close. Raphael tipped his head back to make room for the press of her lips and chuckled. Joi’s teeth scraped across his pulse, sucking a vibrant purple bruise on his throat, more stark against his red skin.

“They want you dead,” she murmured—but with the Lady of Murder, this was far from a warning. She radiated pride and adoration, and her touch spoke to reverence.

"It is the way of the Hells." He fisted a hand in her braid, tugging hard enough to create space between them and force her to look at him. Joi smiled, and the relative sweetness of her expression belied the underlying hunger coiled between them. He traced her cheek. "Greedy little beast—you want them to try." He nipped at the tip of her nose, avoiding the press of her lips. "Try to kill me."

"Try being the operative word, my love—I'd never let them get far."

Raphael clutched her throat, dragging his lips up and across her forehead. "Tell us why."

He knew the answer: to kill for him—to defend what belonged to her. Greedy, he thought again, but not unkindly. Joi's right hand found Raphael's—she brought it to her lips, kissing the back of his knuckles. Such a tangle of limbs, so tightly entwined but still…lacking.

Age had a way of putting carnal appetites into perspective. The satisfaction of owning or conquering flesh paled in comparison to a kingdom. It could not compare to power. The needs of another would never compare to his own.

But his Duchess was power, not a foreign entity but an extension of himself, twinned, mated.

He could want her—it was no different from pleasuring himself.

Raphael squeezed. "Answer."

"Because," she breathed. "You are mine—I protect what is mine."

~~~~~~~~~~

Mine—growled into the flesh of her inner thigh. The devil dragged his teeth across the sensitive flesh, biting hard enough to draw blood. Raphael sat back, admiring the ruin of his Duchess—sweat-slick, skin painted with an amalgamation of blood and her arousal. He dragged his thumb through the worst of it, painting ragged lines of crimson up to the apex of her thigh. She sighed, spreading her legs—beautiful. The Lady of Murder remained so lovely, fangs flecked with blood.

His blood, hers—did it matter? He thought not.

“Ah, but look at you,” he purred, voice pitched low, like every bad idea, every promise made in the darkest stretches of the night. Some sick thrill chased along his spine as he watched the muscles in her stomach flesh, her pulse leaping as he sunk his fingers back into her spent body. If he closed his eyes, the world would take some dizzying turn. His Duchess cried out, hooking her right leg around him to draw him close.

Soon, so soon, but he wanted to revel in this final indignity against his Sire. Mephistopheles’ private chambers were alive with sound—the new Duchess of Cania, voice pitched in praise to Raphael, reaching for him, worshiping him. She came apart around his touch, shuddering, arching, tail thrashing until he twined his with hers.

How delightful, how delicious to have such a creature so securely bound to his will.

Joi pushed up on her elbows, shaking, crooking a finger at him. “Come,” she ordered.

And he smirked, leaning over her, shifting his weight to rest more comfortably in the cradle of her thighs. She sighed, reaching between them to find his length, leading him—he seats himself so easily. As if she’s made for him, molded, and that gratifies his pride more than he’d care to admit. “And who are you to order me?”

They knew the answer too well, their shared divinity twisting and tugging—rapture every moment he sank into her, screaming fury every time he pulled away. Together, one, for the first time since their victory in Gehenna.

“Your Duchess, your goddess…” she sank her teeth into the flesh of his shoulder, panting, whining, canting her hips to take him deeper. He should cut out her tongue for her impudence. Tear out her eyes for staring at him so sweetly. So many things, all so far off. “Beautiful Raphael—my love.”

Hers, greedy beast, the truth of her claim written in the lines scored down his back. Hers, the sentiment underpinning every heresy she breathed in his ear—their churches would grow great. They would push into the Abyss. They would remake it in their image.

They would shape eternity.

So let it be done. So decreed Raphael, Lord of the Eighth, God of Ambition, Right Hand of Asmodeus.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x dark urge #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #oc: joi #look i dunno what this is #but i did finish it #longfic

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revenantghost · 2 months

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My brain: Hey how about this fucking badass AU idea

Me:

#HELP I'M ALREADY DEAD STOP THIS WEH #Listen this idea is going #SO far down the line #First is untitled E fic #Then the plan was to get back into the longfic saddle by finishing Kittenwood #(Which... do I really need it after this bullshit 'short' fic tho)#Then my VW reverse bang #Then finish Hallowboned #AND THEN A DIFFERENT AU #NOT THIS ONE!!!!!!!#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!#Yadda yadda

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wqnwoos · 7 months

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HOW do people write 20k+ fics on the regular. how are u guys doing it. what is the fucking secret.

#I CANT DO IT i am trying soooo hard to work on these 3 specific wips. its not working.#the longest fic i ever wrote was about 15k and it took the life out of me and i also hated it by the time i was finished w it.#i have soooo much respect for longfic writers u guys are the backbone of society.#hana’s babbles

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saintbleeding · 1 year

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post-mag-92 tender neck wound dressing? post-mag-92 tender neck wound dressing.

#tma #tma fic #jmart #the magnus archives #my #saint writes #(still working on longfics and all but. i finished this and i like it.)#(<3)

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serenescribe · 7 months

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Third ficlet request~

We know how Silver reacted to the second event of Halloween, he was upset that it was all a *prank*, despite abductions and possessions. I wonder how Lilia would’ve reacted to all of this, only to realize he was pranked.

[✐] ficlet frenzy

The jig is up as soon as Lilia lays his eyes upon Silver.

See, Silver is… oh, how does he put this without coming across as cruel? Lilia loves him dearly, has raised him ever since he was but a baby in a cradle all the way into the respectable young man he is today. And it is precisely because of this that Lilia knows, down to the very core of his being, that Silver cannot act to save his life.

His hands, covered with the large sleeves of his costume, come to land on his hips. “Alright, that’s enough of all this,” Lilia states, sending the rest of the group into a shocked silence. Multiple pairs of eyes land on him, but Lilia only has eyes for the boy before them all — Silver, face still schooled into what the others think is ghostly apathy, but Lilia knows is just his default expression.

“Silver,” Lilia says, pouting as he walks up to the boy. “You do know it isn’t very nice to deceive us all, hm?”

And in that moment, Silver’s expression crumbling into one of guilt as Lilia crosses his arms, the entire farce is over.

“You know,” Lilia sighs, leaning against the wall as rainbow lights swirl about the room in a dizzying haze of colours, “I do wonder why Malleus didn’t approach me to help with his plan…”

“He wanted to surprise you,” Silver explains, a drink in hand. Ever since he and Malleus had been forced to come clean about their little Halloween plans — to which Lilia wasn’t surprised that Silver had been hesitant, but went along with it anyways — Silver had been glued to his side, blurting out apologies the whole while. “You’re always so enthusiastic about Halloween,” Silver continues, in-between sips of his lemonade. “He wanted to return the favour for once.”

Lilia hums, pressing a covered hand against his chin. “I might have had a better time pranking than anything else,” he decides, after a while. “Ah… I must be getting old if I hadn’t noticed the telltale signs of Malleus’ magic afflicting the school. Or perhaps he’s just gotten better while I haven’t been looking…?”

A pause.

“And you, Silver?” At the sound of his name, Silver blinks, eyes wide like a doe’s. “What possessed you to go along with it?” Lilia asks, pressing the matter. “I know you said it was because Malleus requested it of you, but if you’d truly not wanted to join him, he would have likely sought out the aid of someone else.”

“Ah…” Trailing off, Silver stares off into the distance. He fidgets. “The way Lord Malleus described it… it truly did seem like it was something you would enjoy. And you’ve always done so much for me, especially for Halloween— I haven’t forgotten the time you let me go trick or treating,” Silver adds, a little abashedly, though a small smile graces his face as he speaks. “If I’d known it would have caused you such distress… I would have backed out.”

“How sweet of you,” Lilia coos, reaching out to wrap Silver in a hug, pulling him in — something that takes him by surprise, but he quickly melts into anyway.

See, Lilia can see the appeal of something like this. A great mystery with time having stopped and Halloween continuing eternally? Kidnapped students and a mysterious portal to the Spectral Realm? It sounds like a grand old time! But the main reason why he’d plunged straight into serious mode, had been so focused on rescuing all the kidnapped students…

He sighs. “You didn’t have to make me think you were in danger, dear,” Lilia complains, pouting as he clings to Silver tightly.

“Again, I’m sorry, Father…”

#my writing tag #tumblr drabbles tag #ficlet frenzy #twst #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #twst fanfiction #twst writing #(crawls in) im... alive... barely #this is stockpiled from last week. or. the week before?#sorry uni is ramping up im dying #i;m gonna try to finish the longfic in october #take this in the meantime

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mitskijamie · 9 months

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Why did i just realize that Roy wears colors with the yoga moms???? and I now really want fics of Roy issues and his closeted double life

!!!!! The pink shirt, the rosé (Roy usually drinks beer or whiskey), the gay club, the fact that the women don't know who he is, the fact that he's watching Jamie have sex (of literally all things), the fact that it's all a secret.... :( ROYYYYYYYYYYY....

#ask #im actually writing a longfic about closeted gay man roy let's see if i ever finish ...#roy kent #alcohol

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vivitheanimaxen · 3 months

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Jimmy didn't really expect to have to get in between Joel and Tango the moment they laid eyes on each other, but-- well.

He wasn't surprised.

Jimmy had been chatting with Tango up at the surface, after they'd eaten and Jimmy had taken the plates back inside. Tango was absolutely fascinated by the wheelchair, but unwilling to try and haul himself up into it to really see how it worked. Jimmy had to admit he must look at least a little undignified as he wiggled up into the seat, but normally the only ones to see him were people he didn't care about looking silly in front of.

Not that he cared about looking silly in front of Tango. Nope.

Anyway. He'd slipped back down to the ground, pulling the chair close so Tango could inspect it. Tango had actually hoisted himself up onto the edge of the pool. Jimmy saw it as progress. A curious mer was one less likely to lash out.

Jimmy perked up his ear fins at the sound of Martyn's voice coming from the house, maybe Lizzie and Joel were here?

Yep, there was Joel's voice.

"Joel-- Joel wait--" Martyn caught the back of Joel's wheelchair, stopping it from tipping into the water-- a moment too late to stop Joel himself from slipping down out of it.

Tango had disappeared from the edge the moment Joel and Martyn had appeared from out of the house.

Jimmy had thought that Joel was going to tackle him-- after all, Joel was definitely one to pin Jimmy down as his way to say hello. But nope.

In a flash of bubbles and a twist of fins, Joel was on top of Tango. Neither seemed to be getting the upper hand, but if Joel was really trying to hurt Tango, there would have been blood in the water--

Jimmy spoke too soon.

"Hey-- hey hey hey hey!!" Jimmy whistled sharply, knocking into the writhing pair of mer, pushing Joel off of Tango and spreading his sails to block the line of sight, "Joel-- both of you-- calm down-!"

Joel let himself drift back, and Jimmy glanced back to see Tango push himself up off the tiles, his colors fired up dark. Great. Tango was the one bleeding, red lazily billowing from along his gills.

"I didn't--" Joel had his mouth open, surely he could taste the blood in the water, "Jimmy I didn't mean to hurt him--"

"Didn't mean to?" Tango chirped, pressing a hand to his torn gills, "You don't get to just say sorry after attacking me, jellyfish-for-brains."

"I said, both of you, calm down--" Jimmy twisted, keeping between them. It was getting to be way too often that Jimmy had to take charge like this. At least Joel was listening. "Joel, go tell Martyn to get Lizzie, I'll help Tango up so she can look at him."

Joel darted away, so Jimmy turned back to Tango, reaching out to grab him.

"No-- no." Tango bared his fangs, shifting back away from Jimmy's reach, "I'm not going anywhere near your humans."

"Tango, please. You're hurt, they can help." Jimmy pleaded, holding his hand out and letting himself sink lower in the water so he wasn't floating over Tango. He was doing his best to seem non-threatening. He needed Tango to trust him, to accept their help. "And I don't think Martyn is going to feel comfortable with putting you back in the ocean unless he's sure you're healed. That's what Lizzie is here for. She's a healer, and she knows how to help mer."

Tango just sat there, blood still seeping into the water from under his hand.

Jimmy hadn't gotten a good look at what'd happened, but it probably wasn't on purpose. Not with how quick Joel backed off. Jimmy knew that Joel's plating was rough in places, but normally his podmate could keep it from doing any damage when they were wrestling. But Tango had thought it was a proper attack.

Tango still didn't trust them.

Jimmy let out a mouthful of bubbles. Even if he promised that he wouldn't be hurt, Tango likely still wouldn't believe him, and even if Jimmy had been able to overpower Tango before-- that had onl been after the other mer had been stung by sedatives. Jimmy could probably get close enough to sting him again, if Martyn had more. It'd be easy to corner him with Joel's help. The pool wasn't that big, and with the way Tango pushed himself further from Jimmy, he knew it too.

"Look. I want you to be able to go home as much as you do. But the others won't let you if you can't survive out there on our own." Jimmy tried, "And if your gills heal wrong. . ."

Tango pinned his fins close and turned away.

Hopefully he'd allow them to help.

It took longer than Jimmy would've liked, for Tango to reach out and take Jimmy's hand, allowing him to pull Tango up to the surface o the pool where the others were waiting. Joel was back in his wheelchair, over by the door leading back into the house, with a medical kit in his lap. Lizzie and Martyn were waiting by the edge of the water, out of lunging range, but still close enough to watch what'd been happening.

"Tango, meet Lizzie." Jimmy said, gesturing over to her, before switching to English as he swam to the edge of the pool closest to them, leading Tango by the hand, "Lizzie, this is Tango."

#jimmy solidarity #tango tek #joel smallishbeans #team rancher #team rancher au #team rancher fanfic #viviwrites #emberfish au #dont mind me #have some emberfish #as a treat #maybe one day i'll come back and make this a proper longfic.#rewriting it and everything.#i'd wanna finish Dragonfrost or voiceless or one of my other longfics first though.#hermitfic

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