Just like Gavin, his star had a name change. The original name is Vindemiatrix, but it was renamed Epsilon Virginis for the Bayer classification.
It's in the Virgo constellation, aka the Virgin, which I think is very funny
It's the third brightest star(s) in the virgo constellation
It's a binary star and has no known planets
It's a giant start, about 12 times the size of our sun,
Vindemiatrix is currently in its dying stage, having burned through its hydrogen and is now burning through its helium. It will survive for another few million years before it collapses
Vindemiatrix/Vindemiator translate to 'grape-harvester'
@zozo-01 and I have very strange conversations and sometimes I have to write them out. Enjoy this ridiculous little thing.
Continuing with my recent theme: Major Cataclysm Spoilers Ahead
6.1k words
CW: fantasy violence, some aggressive and threatening language, peril to characters
—
“King” Samuel Collins regarded me thoughtfully as I entered the audience hall, chin resting on his hand, sprawled casually on the throne that used to belong to the Imperium.
“What’s a lone Freelancer doin’ here all by themselves?” he asked. He wrinkled his nose. “Covered in the smell-a daemons?”
“I used to be the coordinator for the Academy’s daemon haven in Dahlia,” I said, keeping my posture straight but giving him a half-bow of respect. “I still work closely with them.”
“A’right. So what’re you doin’ here, Freelancer-coordinator?”
“The daemons who took over the Dahlia academy—who you fought beside when you stormed the Spire—have taken up... residence in Ferris.” I’d almost said refuge, but that seemed like the wrong word to use with this guy. “Avior has no idea I’m here. He’s in Borden organizing the daemons there.” I took a breath. “But, to be fair, I didn’t come here alone.” I gestured behind me.
A rift tore open and a tall daemon ducked through it, standing behind me to my right.
“You remember Vega, I assume,” I said.
Samuel Collins’ silver eyes sized Vega up slowly. “I remember,” he agreed. “You tryin’ to intimidate me or somethin’? It’s not gonna work.”
“No, no,” I replied, shaking my head.
I am simply here to protect the coordinator. Because if something happens to the love of Avior’s life... Vega trailed off, mildly threateningly. He smirked. Well. Newly minted kings can be so easy to... unseat from their thrones.
Samuel Collins snarled, baring his fangs. But didn’t get off his throne.
“Vega,” I chided blithely. “Not now.”
Vega’s orange-gold, fiery eyes peered down at me with a fake pout. Awww... but he makes a delicious meal, he complained, obviously mocking Collins. Such malice...
“Vega,” I pressed.
He heaved a sigh and relaxed. Fine, he relented.
I looked back to Collins. “Sorry about him. He insisted on joining me. I was going to bring a Serenity Daemon but Vega wouldn’t listen.” I gave him a somewhat fake smile. “Anyway. If I may, I’d like to discuss the actual reason I’m here.”
“Well get to it, then.”
“We—that is, the former residents of the Dahlia daemon haven—are intending to take Ferris as our territory,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “We intend to drive out any Mass-Maker who attempts to make it their base of operations, and we intend to make it a safe place for the daemons who are coming over from Aria for the first time to get accustomed to Elegy and be safe.”
“And?” Collins looked beyond indifferent.
“Well, we’re right on the border of your territory. Ferris isn’t that far from Dahlia. We don’t want to step on your toes. We’ll respect your border so long as you respect ours. If necessary or interested, I’m sure Avior would consider negotiating some sort of alliance. Considering some other Mass-Maker with even more progeny under their belt might try to snatch Dahlia from you,” I continued. Collins scoffed at that last statement.
“So why’d you come here alone behind your little demonic leader’s back?” he asked.
“Because I pulled your file before the fight at the Spire,” I replied. Collins lifted his chin off his hand and sat up a little straighter. “Our technician, Anton, did most of the vetting. He’s unempowered but he’s a genuine genius.
“But I recognized your name from the list of vampires who presented themselves at our gates that day.” I swallowed. “So I pulled your file.”
“Find anythin’ you like?” he snarked.
“You used to be a Freelancer,” I said, not rising to the bait. “I recognized your name from the healing classes I took while I was getting my full certification. My professor still lauded you as her best student, almost twenty years later. You and I are... were... of a similar spirit. Hardworking perfectionists. Some might call us—”
“Overachievers,” Collins put in, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
I nodded. “I tried for four years to take that title from you in my professor’s eyes. It’s a blow to my pride to admit I never did it.”
Amusement crossed Collins’ face. “No. I don’t imagine you did. What does any of this matter?”
“Call it naïveté if you want, but I hoped having some sort of understanding of each other might make you more inclined to listen.”
“You’re still here, ain’t ya?” he retorted. “I haven’t had anyone throw you out, yet.”
You could try, Vega growled.
“Vega,” I warned. “Not now.”
Vega was tense, but stood down. Yes, coordinator.
Collins snorted. “You got a Sadism Daemon on a short leash. I commend you for that.”
“Trust me, it’s his respect for Avior, not me.” I took a deep breath. “Are you willing to consider the possibility of an alliance with the daemons?”
“And if I’m not?”
I shrugged. “Respect the border between our two territories. Leave us alone, we’ll leave you alone.” I made a face. “Should that prove to be too difficult for you...” I glanced at Vega. He smiled menacingly. I looked back at Collins, still nonchalant and casual. “We have plenty enough daemons to defend our borders.”
“Well, then I suppose we’ll see what happens, won’t we, darlin’?”
Vega tensed behind me. If you call the coordinator that again—
“Vega.”
He relaxed the muscle in his jaw, but didn’t relax anything else.
“I suppose we will,” I said to Collins. “But I advise you to heed me, now. There’s been enough bloodshed. We don’t want any more. We just want to continue our lives in peace and maybe scratch out a little spot of safety for our people.” I turned to leave.
“You will never be one of them,” Collins said softly.
I grabbed Vega’s wrist before he could do much more than snarl and whirl around. I felt a ward spring into existence between me and the half of the hall where Collins was. I turned slowly to face him again. He was still sitting on his throne. Hadn’t even gotten up to try and intimidate Vega or harm me.
I regarded Collins calmly. “I’ll never be a daemon, no,” I agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not one of them.” I let go of Vega’s wrist. “When you find a the right family for you, you’ll find that you want to protect each other out of care and respect. Not fear or force. I lost my blood family to the Imperium years ago. The daemons became the family I chose for myself. And if you never find someone to mourn you when you are gone... I’m sorry.” I turned back to Vega. “Let’s leave.”
We walked back to the entrance of the hall. Vega didn’t drop the ward separating us from Samuel Collins.
At the door, I stopped, setting a hand on Vega’s forearm to halt him too.
I turned to look back one more time. “The Imperium didn’t like it when Mass-Makers turned empowered humans. Took most of their magic away, instead of giving unempowereds a Core. Alexis Solaire died the same night the Imperium did.”
Collins straightened up properly.
“I imagine there’s no love lost there,” I said.
He scoffed. “Woman more’n had it comin’,” he spat.
“Am I safe in guessing you didn’t even feel the bond die?”
He snorted. “Sugar, I’ve turned hundreds of vampires. I have so many maker-progeny blood bonds I could never tell when one-a ‘em vanished. So, no. I did not feel when the one between me and my maker died.”
I examined my fingernails nonchalantly. “Her death is the reason you got your invocations back.”
“Like hell,” he retorted. “She wasn’t the Invoker. I tied plenty-a progeny to the actual Invoker to know that for damn sure.”
“No. She wasn’t. But Vincent Solaire knew who was. And his price for giving up that information was her death.” I met Collins’ eyes. “My best friend’s pack alpha ripped her head off that night. Got the information from Vincent Solaire, ripped his head off too, and then went after the Invoker. You can guess the rest.” I left off the fact that Brachium willingly gave his life.
“Vincent Solaire had a few screws loose,” Collins commented. “Bastard deserved to have his head torn off.”
You could say that about every vampire on this plane, Vega remarked casually.
“The screws loose or the head tearing off?” I asked.
Vega shrugged. Choose one. I’m not picky.
I bounced an eyebrow and looked back at Collins. “I’m sorry she took that from you, Freelancer. But I thought you’d like to know that she’s gone.”
Before he could say anything, I ducked through the door, taking Vega with me.
“Let’s go home, Vega.”
Vega scooped me up and took off running.
—
Avior was waiting for us in Ferris. At the Keaton pack’s old den. Where the Dahlia haven daemons and the Shaw pack had taken up residence.
He was leaning against the wall next to the front door, arms crossed, staring up at the night sky.
There was a metaphorical stormcloud brewing over his head.
Vega put me down on the den’s porch. I’ll leave you two alone, he said, ducking through the door to go inside.
Once the door shut behind him, I scrunched my eyebrows. “What’s wrong, Avior?” I asked. “Something happen in Borden?”
“No, actually,” Avior said. Much too casual for the roiling energy around him.
“So what’s wrong?”
“I got a call. While I was in Borden. A few minutes ago. From King Collins in Dahlia.” He used the title sarcastically. “I don’t know how he has my number and frankly I don’t really care. He told me that you and Vega sought an audience with him and told him to respect our borders in Ferris and suggested that he and I consider negotiating an alliance.”
“So you’re mad at me?”
“I’m frustrated that you didn’t tell me you were planning it,” he corrected. “But everything else is sound.”
“So why are you... brooding?” It was the wrong word but my brain wasn’t supplying a better one.
“Because he decided to call me King Avior.”
A smile I couldn’t stop lifted up my face.
“Oh, don’t you start, starlight,” Avior said.
“But... but it suits you!” I teased.
“I’m not a king! I’m not like them! I’m not—” He shoved his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to be some tyrannical... monster.”
“You won’t be. You listen to the people who look to you for leadership. And you’ve got me, and Vega, and Cam, and everyone else to keep you humble.”
“What if I stop listening?”
“Then Vega and I will read you the absolute riot act to end all riot acts until we’ve knocked you back down to where you are now.”
He brushed the backs of his fingers down my cheek before cupping my neck. “I hope you’re right,” he said softly.
I gave him a cheeky grin. “I am. And if you start getting an even bigger head than Vindemiator always joked you have, I won’t even stop Vega if he starts getting violent if that’s what it takes to make you see sense.”
“I feel like I should be concerned, but I’m actually quite relieved.”
He pulled me a little closer and I reached for a kiss. He gladly agreed and pressed his lips to mine. “I love you, Avior,” I whispered. “And I am, absolutely, going to tease you about this for the rest of my life.”
He smiled wide. “I... don’t doubt that,” he said, resting his forehead against mine.
“Wanna go inside? It’s a little chilly.”
“Sure.”
We ducked inside.
—
“Oh, God. What’s in that?” Avior complained the second I strolled into the den three days later with a small paper bag from the dollar store. He must have sensed my amusement and mischief.
“Just something to keep you humble,” I replied.
Asher looked up from where he’d been quietly talking with Milo on one of the couches. Neither of them had moved since I left for the store. Daylight still burned strong and we were making good on protecting Ferris from vampires to boot.
“What is it?” Avior pressed.
I reached into the bag and pulled out the cheap, plastic tiara. The kind that was poorly painted silver, with fake gems and thin, downy feathers—pink, in this case, since I hadn’t been able to find a red one.
“Starlight!” Avior protested as I moved to try to put it on his head. He ducked away. I pursued.
I chased him around the common area while Milo and Asher watched in amusement, cackling. I nearly caught Avior twice—and he wasn’t using his enhanced speed—but every time he dodged before I could put the cheap, ridiculous little tiara on his head.
“Hey, over here!” Asher called, hopping off the couch, clapping, and holding his hands to catch the tiara. I threw it at him—guiding my aim with a little Psychokinesis—and laughed as he caught it. He vaulted the back of the couch he’d been on and chased Avior from the other direction.
“Tag-teaming is not fair play!” Avior exclaimed.
Asher and I laughed as we tried to box him in.
He ducked through a rift—and ended up directly in front of Milo.
“Milo!” Asher said, tossing the tiara over. Milo laughed, snatched it from the air, and joined the game.
“What is going on?” Cam demanded, standing on the stairs.
“Pin the crown on the king!” I replied, chasing Avior and holding my hands out for the tiara when I got close enough. Milo threw it at me. I fumbled the catch a little but managed not to drop—or break—the thing.
Cam watched us, gaping a little, as the four of us ran around the room. “Okay...” he muttered.
“Come join, Cam!” I called. “It’s fun!”
“No it’s not!” Avior protested. “I am not putting that thing on!”
“Why not?” Asher joked. “Are you scared of a little plastic?”
Milo snorted. “Nah—he’s just too dignified,” he put in.
I caught Avior around the waist and tried to reach to put the tiara in his hair, but he phased through my arm like a little cheater and ducked between Asher and Milo—who crashed into each other—and tried to get out of the common area.
But Cam blocked his exit. “Ah-ah-ah,” he said. “The leader should wear a crown, right?” he teased.
“Not you too,” Avior started—
In time for me to pounce on him and plant the tiara in his hair between his horns. I started to laugh so hard I snorted at the affronted expression on Avior’s face.
“I cannot believe the love of my life would subject me to such indignity—”
“Really?” I retorted, wiping tears of laughter off my face. “Have you gotten to know me at all this past year?” I moved with him to keep him from pulling the tiara off while Asher scrambled to get his phone out to take pictures. “We take joy in the few places where we can find it, Avior.”
“And one of those places is tormenting me?”
“... It’s a plastic tiara. Not the end of the world. We already averted that.”
“Coordinator, I got like ten pictures,” Asher said.
“Oh, my God—let me seeee!” I exclaimed, climbing off where I was still half-climbed up Avior’s back and rushing over to Asher’s side to look at his screen. I laughed as he scrolled through them. Most were blurry but there was one really good one of me beaming over Avior’s shoulder with one hand firmly holding the tiara to his head. “You have got to send those to me!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Asher said.
The door to the basement stairs opened and my friend emerged. “What does an unempowered gotta do for two uninterrupted hours of quiet around here?!” they demanded, eyes fixed on Asher.
I couldn’t help the scoff that escaped my throat. “With this many daemons and shifters trying to call one pack house home? Cast a mass sleep spell over the whole place and kick the daemons out,” I muttered sarcastically. My friend shot me a look. And as they twisted, I noticed a small bruise-like mark on their neck, poking out from under their shirt collar. Apparently their little budding attraction with Asher had progressed farther than I thought. I bit back a teasing grin.
Avior rolled his eyes. “Sorry,” he said to my friend. “These three just decided it would be fun to—”
He stopped as my friend started snickering at the tiara still between his horns.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” he muttered, reaching up and snatching the tiara out of his hair. He threw it at me. I caught it and set it on the paper bag that had ended up on the coffee table. “Save the games for when the Empathy Daemons are actually here. At least then they can feed on the joy you take in tormenting me.”
“You’re so dramatic, Avior,” I said, leaving Asher and Milo to lean against Avior’s side. He rolled his eyes. “You’re not being tormented. There’s no harm in trying to get you to wear a cheap toy.”
His phone started ringing before he could do much more than open his mouth to make some sarcastic retort. He yanked it from the pocket of his dark jeans and glanced at it. “Collins?” he asked as he put the phone to his ear. “To what do I owe the call?” He pressed a quiet kiss to my forehead and left the room, going out to the front porch. Asher, Milo, Cam, my friend, and I all exchanged looks. Cam looked at me and nodded toward the front door.
I made a face and shrugged. If he’d wanted me to go with him, he would have taken my hand and dragged me out.
We all stood there for a moment—and I realized Cam, Asher, and Milo were all eavesdropping on Avior. My friend and I were the only ones who couldn’t hear him, with our basic human senses. Cam kept making faces and Asher and Milo were exchanging looks.
After a minute, Avior came back in. There was a large crack in the plastic on the back of his phone that sealed itself shut—good as new—as he released his death grip on it.
Avior met my eyes. “He wants to see us. Negotiate an alliance or some sort of truce,” he said. Frustration colored his expression. “And he wants to make a thing out of it.”
“Meaning?” I prompted.
“Meaning he wants it to be a formal... meeting. As in dressing up fancy. All that posturing, meaningless, bullsh—”
“Who has to be there?” Asher interrupted. Avior met his eyes.
“Me, Vega, you,” Avior said. He looked to me. “And you. And anyone else who would like to join.”
“Well... we can’t bring everyone,” I said.
Avior and Asher both shook their heads.
“The numbers advantage would be nice,” Avior said. “But it’s too dangerous to have us all in one place.”
“Best to leave most of the pack here,” Asher put in. Avior nodded.
“Yeah. Most of the daemons too. Some to guard the den, some to watch the border so Collins doesn’t try anything while we’re distracted.”
“I can put a couple wolves on the border too,” Asher offered. Avior nodded. He glanced at my friend, who had snuck closer to us while we’d been talking. “Can’t let the daemons feel like they’re doing all the work around here.” He smiled, and my friend smiled back. Milo’s eyes widened a fraction and his lips parted. He looked surprised. I could guess why. Before all this, my friend told me Asher was a somber guy. Milo seeing his alpha smile probably was jarring.
“Yeah. Put a handful. Make sure the rest know to stay in the den and stay safe,” Avior agreed.
“When’s the meeting?” I asked.
“Day after tomorrow.”
“Then we’ve got some plans to prepare.”
He nodded.
—
“No.”
“C’mon. All teasing aside, Cam’s right. You need some way to denote you’re the leader.”
“Starlight, we’re not joking about this again—”
“It’s not a joke this time!” I exclaimed. “I’m not telling you to wear a bejeweled cape with a scepter and some gaudy, God-awful crown. I’m suggesting one piece of ornamentation that shows you’re our leader. Collins probably won’t be super dressed up, but he’ll be making it obvious that he’s king of Dahlia.”
“With what, a diamond-encrusted cowboy hat?” Avior retorted sarcastically.
“Honestly? Maybe.”
He snorted. “I’d want a picture of that if such a thing exists.” He rolled his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
“Some sort of circlet?” I hedged. “I was thinking black metal, with a ruby or a garnet in the middle. Although, from a distance, I doubt Collins would be able to tell if it was a gem or some fancy-ass glass. But just something to show you’re the one he’s dealing with.”
Avior fixed me with a look. “Fine.” He closed his eyes and concentrated.
A burst of magic accompanied the circlet appearing around his head. The deep, violet-red garnet in the center of his forehead was shaped like a needle spearing down toward his nose.
“You’re staring,” he said.
I shut my slack jaw and blinked. “Damn,” I said. “It suits you.”
He snapped his fingers and weight rested around my skull. “If I have to wear something stupid, so do you,” he said.
I went to the tarnished, cracked mirror in the small bedroom we’d been sharing and sought out what he’d put on me.
His circlet was simple black metal.
Mine was bright, shiny silver with a pale blue star in the center of my forehead. The metal was much more intricately designed than his—which didn’t surprise me in the least. He and I were similar in that we liked treating the other much better than we treated ourselves. I saw the world in his gaze and he saw his future in mine.
I turned to face him. “You spoil me,” I said.
He shrugged. “It suits you,” he copied. I wrinkled my nose at him. He laughed.
I stepped out of the path of the mirror so he could fidget with his hair, an irritated expression on his face.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. “Isn’t it enough to say I am the leader? Do I have to wear this thing?”
“Yes. You have to. Because it makes you look hot and also does the other job of showing off that you are our fearless leader and—”
“Starlight. You don’t have to try and cheer me up. I get the point, believe it or not. It just seems ridiculous.”
“It’ll all be fine, Avior. I promise. And, hey, I was also gonna suggest you wrapping some gold chains up your horns if I didn’t think you’d grumble about it. But I know you would so I decided to just leave it at the circlet.”
“I should just cloak my horns...” he muttered, finally getting his hair to cooperate around the circlet.
“Why?”
“Well, I...” He trailed off. “I don’t know.”
I made a face. “Are you insecure about how they look?”
“No. I just... I don’t know. Feel like maybe I should look more human.”
“None of that, my love,” I said, cupping his face in both my hands. “You’re amazing as you are. I fell in love with a daemon. Collins already knows you’re a daemon. No point in trying to hide. Be proud and confident. You’re our leader and you’re damn good at your job. Don’t let this freak you out or get into your head. Understand?”
My head spun with dizziness as he surprise-kissed me. My eyelids fluttered closed and I leaned into the contact. “I understand,” he breathed.
“Good. Now let’s get going. Because if we have to stay in this room for one more minute with you dressed like that I’m gonna tear your clothes off,” I said, taking his hand and dragging him out of our room.
—
“Vindemiator. What a pleasant surprise,” I said as our group gathered outside the audience hall of the Spire. “I thought you and your human...” Deserted. Ran away. Ditched. Fled. Left. Too many words, all of them wrong.
“We did. Scorpius showed up and asked if I’d come to this so he could stay behind and watch the shifter children at the cottage. I...” Vindemiator shook some of his hair out of his face. “If it had been anyone else...” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here. I’m fully fed. If anything goes south, Collins is gonna be dust under my boot.”
“Maybe don’t say that out loud in a place where he can probably hear you,” I advised.
Vindemiator made a face of indifference. “He invited a contingency of daemons into the Spire. He knows the risk.”
“He’s also a Mass-Maker.”
Vindemiator didn’t look concerned. “The only ones in this group I fear for are you and the shifters.”
“I’m decently trained in most magic. I should be okay.”
“For Avior’s sake, I hope that’s true. I don’t want to see what he does if something happens to you.” He glanced over my shoulder. “Speak of the demon.”
Avior’s familiar scent and warmth washed over me as a hand took mine. “We’re going in soon,” he said to me and Vindemiator. “Get ready... for anything.”
“Delightfully vague,” Vindemiator commented. He took a deep breath as though to calm his temper—that muscle in his jaw loosening. “I’ve got your back, Avior.” He sounded begrudging, but genuine.
Avior nodded to him. “We’ll make this quick and get you home to your Freelancer before you know it.”
“Here’s hoping,” Vindemiator muttered.
“Starlight, c’mon. I want you at the front with me.” Avior tugged me by my hand.
There were a few vampire guards standing about the walls of the antechamber as everyone formed ranks. Probably four and they all looked nervous, casting glances at each other.
Avior and I stood before the doors I’d entered through days beforehand. Vega just behind us to our right, Asher to our left. Vindemiator between the two, directly behind. The next row consisted of Milo, Cam, Crux, and Amanda. My unempowered friend had stayed back at the den—with strict orders on Delphinus, Arden, and Brooks to keep them safe.
One of the vampire guards Zipped to stand before me and Avior at the door. “The king will see you now,” he said.
He shoved the doors open.
My hand was clenched around Avior’s so hard I figured my knuckles were probably going to ache within minutes. Avior’s aura burned a little warmer, brushing against mine in an attempt at comforting me.
We strode into the audience hall.
Collins started chuckling. “Quite the entourage you got there,” he said.
Avior didn’t look fazed. “You’re a Mass-Maker. We respect that power—”
“But you don’t trust me. Naw, I get it.” Samuel Collins shook his head, still smiling. “Bring enough people to defend those who can’t rift long enough to escape. Apparently you’re as smart as the rumors say.”
We got close enough for me to realize he wasn’t wearing any sort of ornamentation on his head. No diamond-encrusted cowboy hat, like Avior had joked. No former-Imperial jeweled crown.
Just a large ruby pendant on a gold chain around his neck.
The ruby’s diameter was probably as long as my thumb. There was a large S cut into the top face of the gem. I snuck a glance at Avior out of the corner of my eye to see if Avior had noticed it. If he did, he’d reacted faster and was already looking steadily into Collins’ eyes.
“Rumors?” he asked blithely.
Collins shrugged. “People talk,” he said. “I just happen to hear.”
“I see.”
Collins gestured with a hand. “Let’s dispense of the formalities, shall we?” he asked, actually getting off the throne. He was in a black suit with a pinstriped green shirt underneath the suit coat. And a pair of perfectly-polished cowboy boots.
Avior stiffened as Collins approached me. “Perhaps a dance is in order,” the vampire offered, putting a hand out for me. Vega’s magic burned hot behind me.
“I don’t dance,” I said casually. “Never got the chance to learn how.”
The expression on Collins’ face turned to one of mock-sympathy. “Well, now. That’s too bad, ain’t it?”
“Leave my partner alone,” Avior said. His voice was soft but the threat in it was clear.
“But we’re already such good friends,” Collins retorted. “Overachievin’ Freelancers. Well, former, in my case. They came to me alone just a few days ago. What’s so different now?”
“The two dozen guards lining the walls?” Avior suggested casually. “But last time they weren’t alone.” He glanced significantly at Vega, who towered over everyone even without including how tall his horns were. “And they weren’t standing close enough for you to try to turn them without the chance to defend themselves before.”
“Would I do that?” Collins asked sarcastically.
“If you thought you could gain something from it, I don’t doubt it,” Avior said.
Vega circled silently around me, putting himself between me and the Mass-Maker.
“Let’s not make a scene before discussions of an alliance can even start,” I advised, trying to keep quiet.
I heard the Zip of someone—whether daemon or vampire, I didn’t know—and then a scream from too close to my ear for comfort.
I whirled to see Vindemiator’s hand closed around one of the vampire guard’s throats. Vin’s eyes were glowing a vibrant magenta as light emitted from his hand around the throat. The guard dissolved to dust, his screams echoing around the empty hall.
Asher was bent forward with his teeth bared, already half-shifted enough that his 6′2″ became more like 6′6″ and his muscles were straining the seams of his clothes. He glared with cold, hard amber eyes at the other guards in the hall, as if daring one of them to try something again, ready to shift in a split-second.
Vega and Avior pressed closer to me.
Collins sighed. “Idiot,” he muttered. “Alright. Dancin’s off. Unfortunate. I was lookin’ forward to makin’ some sorta shindig outta all this.” He strolled back over to his throne and plopped down on it. “Thought I could trust y’all to follow my orders without an invocation tonight,” he called to the guards lining the walls. “Anyone else makes a move I don’t say to make will have them dealin’ with me, rather than one of our guests.” Collins met Avior’s gaze. “Sorry about him.”
Don’t trust him, Vega’s voice said quietly. Only to me and Avior.
We never started, Avior and I replied at the same time.
Avior let go of my hand. “Vega,” he said, nodding between Vega and me. Vega dipped his head in agreement and kept watch beside me, much the same way he had when I first entered this hall.
Avior approached Samuel Collins. “You’ll have to give William Solaire my regards,” Avior remarked, gesturing to the S-carved ruby. Collins merely bounced an eyebrow—and I got the distinct impression that William Solaire would be receiving no such regards. Though I didn’t dare imagine the reason why.
I was completely boxed in by daemons—except Asher, on my left side—as Cam took up position on my right with Vega still in front of me and Vindemiator behind. I was the safest person in the room, probably—so why was I still so worried?
I tapped Vega’s shoulder blade. Yes, coordinator?
Something doesn’t feel right.
What?
I’m not sure. My instincts are... going crazy. Asher seems to agree.
Asher, indeed, hadn’t gone back to his normal state, instead staying half-shifted with sharpened teeth bared. Maybe that was why I couldn’t relax—because Asher couldn’t and I knew to trust a shifter’s danger instincts.
Vega glanced at Asher, then peeked at me.
“You have our attention,” Avior continued to Collins. “Don’t assume I’m stupid enough to believe that vampire wasn’t under some sort of invocation that triggered him to attack after something was said. Trying to get our guard down. Most of us have been alive a lot longer than you, and we know most of the tricks in the book. Hell, Vega probably wrote the book.”
Collins glanced over Avior’s shoulder to Vega. Who was scanning the other guards with those burning coals of eyes.
“We’re still willing to negotiate an alliance,” Avior continued. “But trust must be earned.”
“Never did put much stock in the phrase ‘trust but verify’ myself,” Collins agreed. “Verification always should come first.” He kept looking at Vega—and I remembered Vega telling me and Avior that he’d been the one to draw the vampires to the academy when we were preparing our attack. “You seem to be trustin’ me enough to bring bloodbags we can actually feed on with you, though.”
“I brought individuals who I trust to take care of themselves,” Avior said.
“Includin’—apparently—the love of your life.” Collins’ cold silver gaze bored into me.
“Powerful Freelancer,” Avior said. “I don’t advise you to mess with them.”
“I don’t intend to. I’d hate to see what would happen if I pissed off a room full-a daemons for doin’ somethin’ to their king’s lover.”
“I don’t consider myself their king. I consider myself their—”
Vega tore away from me and slammed a vampire into the wall so hard that I definitely heard multiple bones—and maybe their skull—crack. Vindemiator grabbed me and pulled me backward to put Cam and Asher just a little ahead of me to protect my front.
“—leader,” Avior finished with a sigh. “Vega.”
Forgive me, Avior, but I heard them insulting the coordinator under their breath, Vega replied blithely, clawed fingernails digging into the vampire’s throat where he held them around the neck.
Collins looked the vampire in the eyes. “That true?”
The vampire managed a shaky nod—and I remembered vampires couldn’t lie to their makers.
Collins got off his throne. “Enlighten me. What did you deem so important that you had to say it out loud?” He approached Vega and the guard.
“Vega,” Avior entreated.
Vega loosened his grip around the vampire’s throat. The puncture wounds from his nails started sealing in the vampire’s neck. The vampire gasped for air and coughed to get their breath back. Avior, in the blink of an eye, was standing in front of me, holding my hand again.
The vampire coughed again. “I... I said... the Freelancer... is probably... the easiest prey in this room,” they rasped, sounding reluctant but unable to lie.
Samuel Collins sighed and shook his head. “Y’all...” he muttered. “So disappointed.”
With a lash of his hands and a quick twist, the vampire’s head was separated from their body. I blinked in surprise and pressed closer to Avior. Vega dropped what was left of the vampire to the ground.
“Well. This is goin’ poorly. Avior, howsabout we have this conversation in private? You pick one guard, I pick one guard. Everyone else stays here.”
“That can be arranged,” Avior agreed. He paused, gold eyes flicking to linger on Vega. He wanted to take Vega has his guard—his second, the most powerful daemon in the room. But when his eyes met mine, I knew what he was thinking. He also wanted to leave Vega to protect me.
Vindemiator shifted his weight so he was standing closer to me, looking fiercely around the room.
“Vega, to me,” Avior said. “Vin—”
“Understood,” Vindemiator interrupted, setting a hand on my shoulder.
Collins gestured to one of the vampires lining the wall. She approached. The four left the main audience hall to a back room.
“So,” Vindemiator remarked to me casually. “How long did it take you to convince him to put that stupid thing on his head?”
“Next to no time in comparison to how long I chased him around the den’s common room with a plastic pink tiara,” I replied.
Vindemiator snorted. “He’s a good leader. I... I just... I saw what I wanted to see. Before.”
“He doesn’t blame you for being mad at him because of what your partner did. He told me he would’ve felt the same way. It’s... it’s an incredible thing, for the human to earn the devotion of a daemon. It goes deep and lasts a long time. He forgave you for everything you said—and didn’t say but definitely felt—that night when Vega Sliced Moore’s Threads.”
“Then he’s a better man than I am.”
I gave him a confused look.
“Because I haven’t forgiven myself. He fought for our people for decades, and fought to preserve yours for just as long. I should have thought of that.”
“It’s okay, Vin,” I reassured him. “You can let it go.”
“Maybe. But I’m protecting you as fiercely as he protected my partner—and all of your kind—first.”
And voices are in the wind's singing, more distant
and more solemn t̶̬͕͎̙͉̬̜͉̐̽̉͗h̸̨͖̺̣͉̥̬͕̣̖̠̽̏̌́͂̏̈́̄͛͂̐͘a̸̢̹͕̖̺̤̠̯̜̠̳̜̾͝n̵̛̤̹͉̟̝̼͖͚̗̣̲͂̔͌̓͛͝ ̷̨̧͉̜̙̯̳̭̺͙͇̤͕̤͆̿̾̈̋̎͌͛à̷̛̖̙̀̊̈́͒͝͝ ̸̧̛̝̜̭̬͚̃̆̒̈́̅̉͋̓́͝͠f̷͚̤̟̤̼̲̅̈́̎̔̿͝ą̵͈̞͍̣͔̤͌̀͝d̷͚̘̙̳̪̏̌̓͐̕į̴̧̛̛͉̠͔̮͉͇̥̫̻̭̥̃̊̍̋̓̓́̐̽̓͘͝͠ͅn̸̩̠̱̂̆̀́̍̊̀́̕͝g̶̢̦̝̙͍̤̭̦̖͍̈́̉͛́̀̎͆͜͜ ̴̲̗̮̭͉͎̥̹̘̊͑̉͋̐ͅs̴̡̞͕̘̲͙͇̲̫̪͖̮͐͋̅́̌̂̕ͅt̷͍̼̻͍̬͈̩̤̫̥̲̉̏͂̄͌̃̕a̵̡̧̪̞͎̺̰͛̓ͅŕ̷̨̧̻̩̞̳̱͆̓̇͌̂̾̅̅͋̊͝͠.
Imperium AU - A mirror plane that changes what we know and love of the Redactedverse; which is thoroughly dragged into the shadows.
Pairing(s): Imperium Gavin / Vindemiator X GN! Reader
Summary: Sleep is hard to come by, even though he didn't need it... It was more necessary when he could not feed as much as he liked. His proverbial demons followed him even in his waking hours and Vindemiator did not want to give them the satisfaction of following him to rest... Maybe a certain cutie would lay them to rest tonight.
A/N: A small, more reassuring, piece after that whole thing? Set after they’ve been accepted into the academy as a safe space. (Also, about to watch the newest vid on Patreon... I’m terrified.)
His body felt like it was rubbed raw, eyes staring through the slits of the blinds into the raining streets of Dahlia. There was again the thrum of anxiety swirling in the pits of his head, reminding him again to check if the door is locked. If the wards in place were enough. If the freelancer was still breathing...
He needed to look.
Lifting his aching, heavy body from the plush chair, he does it again.
Door is latched.
Bolted.
Locked, deadbolted.
The stopper below it is wedged where he saw it last.
Echoes of magic of his own making, wards painting the edges of the door.
Of the one window.
Of the bedroom door.
Though not as strong as he liked, it was enough against any human.
Vindemiator paused quietly at the bedroom, just to stare at the wood - at the grain and mahogany colored stain.
Him.
A powerful demon.
An incubus with the ability to befall buildings.
Scared of such awful, disgusting, deplorable, bigoted humans...
Ones of which he could easily have disposed of.
He scowled to himself.
The door swung inwards and he looked to the bed.
It was relatively large, meant for two.
Since the sweet little cutie had called him as their's in the face of the academy, they agreed to allow him sanctuary. Hearing himself be claimed in such a manner would have been revolting, like being snapped with a chain and ball. Held prisoner yet again with only playing for the sake of survival.
Well, if it had been anyone else.
You were something of a different story.
So apologetic in your repose, away from prying eyes and ears - that it was the only thing that came to your mind to allow you to somewhat shield him.
Something, in his, believed, long dead heart warmed at your protectiveness.
There you laid, curled in knit blankets.
Eyes opened and bleary, but unsurprised to see him awake.
"Couldn't fall asleep?"
Slowly, rose onto an arm - propping yourself up.
"Or... Didn't want to?"
Your tone was all too knowing and his chest gave a squeeze at that despite the irritation. He huffed quietly through his nose and he cut his eyes aside to stare at the door again. Anything to pull away from the vulnerable doe eyes fixed on him.
"Go back to sleep, cutie." Vindemiator almost ordered, about to shut the door.
The gentle feeling of fondness swept over him, from you, he felt pillowed in the show of affection - no matter how surprising it was for him. Borne out of worry, showing such kindness that he believed to be all but lost, even towards someone like him - that had to expose you to the ugliest parts of himself.
You lifted the blanket.
"Come here, Vin...."
He contemplated the offer only for a moment.
Sit in the cold, empty living room?
Or rest in your open arms and welcoming warmth?
Vindemiator pensively shut the door behind him as he made his way inside, twisting the lock twice for safe measure. Magic thrummed from the ward like a reminder, ringing through even as he made is way to your side.
Your fingers, delicate and warm, slide through his and with a small tug - he slid in beside you.
Soaking in the comfort your presence brings, seeping into his skin and taking in the scent of your soap. The contact was so gentle and kind, so utterly comforting as he breathed in.
Almost like a drug.
He could get addicted to it.
"... Are you hungry?" You mumble, squeezing his hand and carefully setting it on your hip.
The incubus stopped at that, searching your still slightly drowsy face for any hesitation.
None.
Only trust.
A soft understanding that he needs to grow stronger.
How naïve could you be?
How could you so easily believe that he would not bring harm to you?
Don't you know that such kindness in world like this is weakness?
That you couldn’t afford to show such....
Warmth?
It's mere existence was something he wanted to greedily hoard, saving a pocket only for himself.
Maybe it's why he withdrew sometimes, unable to properly understand why you handle him so delicately. A light seeping through despite an all-consuming darkness that filled the deepest reaches of his skull.
It wasn't quite healthy.
He knew this.
But it was all much too much.
"Vin?"
He leaned in.
The scent of your shampoo buzzing at the end of his nerves, enough to make him smile.
"You want me to tire you out?" He coyly asked, squeezing your hip. "I can if you want."
A sharp, twist of arousal rung through you - enough to give him to snack on as he pressed closer. Fingers pressing and sliding a top you, peering down at your endearingly sleep-mussed appearance.
You blinked only once, hands slipping over his shoulders, then behind his neck. Nails scratching at the base of his skull, soothing, causing a low purr to rumble from him.
"I asked if you were hungry..." Though clearly revved, how your legs lift and set on his hips. "I'm also asking what you want."
Vindemiator exhaled sharply, his body shuddering slightly.
So thoughtful.
He leaned down, soft, plump lips gracing lingering smooches along your jaw and neck.
Quietly, he thought, sucking softly at the prone skin - listening to your breaths that grow heavy. The heat off you growing with passing second, fingers running over his head.
What did he want?
He huffed and bit down, quietly laughing to himself at the whine he received in return.
Hands warm and calloused slipped under your sleep shirt, squeezing and groping as he mumbled against the skin, "I want you, cutie..."
You gasp.
Such a sweet sound it was.
Filling his belly and his energy like no other person has for years.
As he prepared himself to make you fall to pieces, ready to pull you both to ecstasy... The words you spoke sent him higher and higher upon cloud nine, higher than this world could ever hope to reach.
Next chapter, if you thought I cannot put my silly old-fashioned space romanticism here - you were very wrong. Honestly, I just decided that the freelancer has to be soft and childishly curious about something, so why not space.
Pairings: Vindemiator/humanborn.
TW: mentions of dubiously consensual d(a)emon feedings (dubiously consensual towards the demons), mentions of changing appearance, mentions of the end of the world, I still have no idea how human history in this AU works.
Word count: a bit more than 1400.
When Vindemietor was told about feeding sessions his first impulse was to decline with as much of offended dignity he could muster. Then he thought about it logically and, keeping in mind that not many things in this world can be worse than what he had to do to survive with Kody, asked where and when he should come.
The very first person requested him to change his appearance. He did it, of course, despite the freelancer's voice in his head repeating that he never has to. The whole thing wasn't as bad as he imagined but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth.
And at night the humanborn would come. At some point, he asked why only at night, to what they plainly answered: "Because I am not allowed to, of course, but since when am I the one to ask permission." None of his reasonings that it is dangerous worked on them - "I want to see you and I can take care of myself, relax", was the answer he was always getting, so he gave up. Not like he didn't want to see them. And feel them.
Their mutual affection remained painfully chaste but their lips at his temple paired with fireworks of their energy could satiate him better than an hour of scheduled feeding.
They wouldn't do much during these nightly visits - most of the time they just stayed in his room and talked (the first two spells the freelancer learned on their own in the academy library, where they were spending most of their free time during the day, were soundproofing and invisibility). They talked about everything - their new experiences in the academy, new people they met, potentially important information they learned. One of their favourite topics however was "tell me about home". The freelancer marvelled at his stories about Aria and pure magic and Vindemietor had dreams about their home city despite never having seen it (his imagination painted him something foggy and fluid but beautiful).
Sometimes the freelancer would show him another secret place they had found. One of his favourites was a secluded pergola in the academy garden, where they would sit close to each other in the cold night autumn air and smell fallen leaves and withered flowers.
Sometimes in his room, they would cuddle and his heart would always skip a bit when they put their head on his chest. One time they've fallen asleep like that and never in his life was Vindemietor more tempted to do anything than he was that night to let them stay and sleep with him. The voice of common sense won, of course, and he had to wake them up.
They both were slowly settling in their new lives - the humanborn as one of the best students in their class and Vindemietor as a model behaviour demon of the 'haven'. He was coming to terms with Avior too and warming up to him. He knew that the inchoate meant good.
Today he almost regrets his newfound friendship because Avior told him about The Meridian Problem. Vindemietor doesn't know what to think. If anyone told him that a month ago it would have been the best news - this awful plane disappears and he goes home, but now... He thinks about the freelancer, about their home city they want to see again so badly, all the forests and seas they've described to him. He thinks how many more people like the humanborn are there and he suddenly doesn't want the world to end.
This night Vindemietor decides to surprise them.
"It's my turn to show you something interesting today," he leads them to the roof, through the door Avior has shown him. The sky is clear today but the weather is very windy, so he takes the blanket from his bed with them.
The stars are shining bright as ever and he can hear their amazed gasp when the freelancer lifts their head up.
"Come sit with me," he puts the blanket beside him settling on the roof.
When they land on the blanket Vindemietor wraps it around their shoulders, he doesn't want them to be cold, sure, but it's also an excuse to be closer to them for a few moments.
"What about you?" the freelancer asks, meaning why is he not wrapped in anything.
"Demons don't get cold."
"Of course they don't," at times they can beat the inchoate director in sarcasm, "I am not taking any of that nonsense, come here," the humanborn lifts up the side of the blanket, "there's enough space for two, come on."
Vindemietor pretends to be annoyed with their doting, but obediently scoots closer to the human and lets them put an arm with the blanket around his shoulders.
They do feel warm. They put their head next to his and lift their gaze again. He looks at them and sees stars reflect in their eyes. The thought that both the stars and the eyes are bound to disappear creeps up into his mind and apparently shows on his face.
"What's wrong?" they fully turn to him and inspect his face closely.
"Nothing, cutie, everything's fine," he smiles at them but even he knows that it must look fake.
The human arches an eyebrow, "You can tell me you know, right? Is someone giving you trouble? Did someone hurt you during your feeding?" he sees them getting more and more worried.
"No, no, no! Nothing like that, it's just..." Vindemiator doesn't really know how to phrase it, "The world is ending."
The shock on their face would be almost amusing if he didn't have to explain further.
While he explains, going on tangents to elaborate on details they don't understand, the surprise drains from their features slowly being replaced with their "so that's how it is, huh" expression he has already learned so well - their eyebrows are slightly raised, lips twisted a bit and their eyes start looking almost as tired as they did the first day he met them.
When he's finally finished, they theatrically fall on their back and hum.
"That's it? Aren't you going to say something?" did they even understand what he was saying?
"Well, as I see it - you're finally going home and I'm going to see my grandmother again, so it's win-win, wouldn't you say?" they look up at him, "oh, don't look at me like that - I'm not saying we wouldn't try to prevent it. I don't know how yet, but we definitely will. Just if it does happen, there are still upsides."
He lies down beside them and pulls the blanket over them.
"You're so odd sometimes."
"I'll take that as a compliment," they chuckle and roll to their side to face him and seemingly out of nowhere ask, "have you ever wondered if there's life on this plane but not on Earth?"
He's taken a bit aback by that question, "No, why?"
"Well, there," they make a wide gesture directed at the sky, "are so many other stars and planets, it would be so strange if we were the only ones."
"Do all humans think about it?" Vindemiator can't imagine himself thinking about such things. Well, he couldn't, a few moments ago.
"Not all, but some of us do. Some even wanted to go into space themselves but Imperium decided that it was not worth it and the space project ended with the Sputnik," they are rambling a bit and he thinks that it's very cute, "Oh, there it is, look" they point at the moving little dot in the sky, "Hi, buddy, it's good to see you again," the freelancer says addressing the satellite. He had never seen them be so childish but he's definitely not complaining, if anything, he would love for them to be like that more often.
"Would be so sad," they get more serious again, "if our stupidity and greed ruin not only our world, but someone else's too."
"We'll try to make it so it doesn't ruin anything, right?" he tries to reassure them giving them back their own words.
"Right," they sigh and move closer to him putting their head on his shoulder and their hand on his chest.
They lie like that for a while looking at the night sky and each other. At times the freelancer starts to quietly sing something and Vindemiator can feel their breath and the vibrations of the voice in their chest. He wants that night to never end.
