A/N: Hello! Just a little announcement. I started a prequel fic titled, "Where Light Scatters." The children of the Zoldyck and the Moiraio families have known each other their entire lives and i wanted to write scenes were baby illumi and psyche interact for fun XD Because even though they are set up in an arranged marriage later in life, they weren't strangers to each other either. When the Zoldycks wanted to set up Illumi in an arranged marriage, his bride had to be from a family they knew very well, one they could trust, and strong like their own. So it wouldn't feel like they were marrying their son into a stranger's family. And an assassin family, because, the dating pool for assassins is tiny and i thought it'd be way cooler lol This is also a place for drabbles that probably won't make it into the main fic. Shadows is all about angst and Light is all fluff! There is a reference to Where Light Scatters in this chapter too.
Also, there is a (flashback) smut scene in this chapter. Which is a different flashback. Illumi and Psyche are 20 and 18, respectively.
Chapter 10: Once Upon A Time
The sea was unforgiving and so was the Captain of the ship. The captain held fast onto the ship's wheel and stirred the course of his vessel, hurdling past monstrous waves that could easily swallow them whole. His ghost white fingers gripped the wood so tight, a sailor thought he was going to break the helm in two. Another year, another round of delivering pools of hunter applicants. Year by year, the applicant pool seemed less promising. Ambition was replaced with gluttonous greed by those thinking they'd get rich quick by becoming hunters. Honor and valor were replaced by corrupt and wicked intentions, desiring power for their own selfish gain. It became a skill of the Captain's to look at any applicant from head to toe and know who was going to stand beside him by the journey's end, and possibly make it to the hunter exam in one piece. It became second nature to him, as if sniffing the air to predict the onslaught of a raging storm. Who among the sniveling fleet of boys longing for home distinguished themselves as hunters?
The Captain roared a battle cry as the ship pounced on a wave and plunged back into the water. Rattling the masts and helm with vicious vigor. The thrill of danger pulsed through the captain's veins as the storm dared to sink his ship and all of his passengers. "Oliggel."
The boy tied a rope around his waist and secured it to a pole. He yanked on it a few times, for good measure. He wasn't going to allow himself to be catapulted through the glass windows and drown. Oh no, he placed a pillow of makeshift duck feathers in between the rope and himself. He was going to live, god dammit.
The captain sighed. "You look pathetic."
"What was that?"
The captain turned around and roared. "You look pathetic!"
"Say what you will." The boy tightened the rope around his waist and pillow of duck feathers. Duck feathers save lives and pathetic boys live another day. "But I'm surviving this journey without so much as a scratch."
"Are you comfortable, boy? Do you want a cup of tea or a blanket? Or perhaps you'd like to take a nap for the rest of the journey?" The captain began to laugh, holding back tears. "We can have the crew sing you a lullaby!" The captain now doubled over in laughter, one arm on the wheel and another slapping against his leg.
The boy narrowed his eyes, not appreciating being made fun of. "If I wanted a squabble of seagulls squawking in my ears then I wouldn't have bothered to board the ship."
"The last thing a sailor does on a ship is insult another's voice. It's enough to get you thrown overboard."
"And now you tell me of a kinder fate. Doesn't matter, I'm not a sailor. And you all sound terrible."
"That's right. You're not." The captain's voice lowered to a cold pitch. "You're a hunter. Hard to believe."
"What is it about me that makes it so hard to believe? When people look at me they see a hunter, on the way to becoming a single star hunter might I add, one who is a pillar in the progression and innovation of the very foundation of the hunter association through unadulterated diligence, hard work, and admirable might. I cannot take all the credit, but we have reached another cornerstone of ground breaking research because of me and my colleagues' contributions—"
"I see a duck." The Captain quacked.
The boy huffed. His feathered pillow did look a little ridiculous.
The captain groaned, aggravated. "You should probably spend less time around that mentor of yours, you're beginning to sound just like him." The captain was only met with silence as the boy stared back at him as if he was confused as a gull rifling through the dry sand dunes pecking at halved mollusks and broken crab shells wondering why there wasn't anything to eat. "Pariston Hill." The captain uttered, as if probing the boy's memory.
"Paris to close friends. Pariston Hill to those who've yet to be."
Pariston had close friends? Little boys knew better than to tell blatant lies. "I am this close to throwing you and your duck off my ship. Now do what you came here for and put that ground breaking research of yours to good use. I can barely stomach slackers just as much as Paris." The Captain accentuated the last word mockingly.
"Believe me, it's the only reason that I'm here." The boy opened his laptop and on his screen showed a live video feed of all the applicants being held below deck. His groundbreaking research dived into the fascinating realm of facial recognition technology. Red targets quickly zipped from one man to another documenting their facial features and recording all that information away in the Hunter Association's database for future statistical analysis. By doing so, statisticians will be better able to more accurately estimate the probability of applicants who apply and venture to retake the Hunter exam every year. And if there are unsavory characters who misbehave, everything they do will be documented.
The red target landed on a peculiar man. This applicant's complexion was purple, as if he deprived himself the luxury of breathing. The program was slower to analyze him than the other applicants, due to the absurd amount of gold ornaments embedded in his face that interfered with the facial recognition system. Were those piercings? His hair was the easiest to analyze, but the freakiest by far. It was a deeper shade of purple that withstood the weight of gravity as it unnaturally stuck upward in wild, unkempt spikes. The other applicants couldn't help themselves from noticing the strange man's demeanor either. Not that they were anything un-ordinary either. But they did well to stay away from him, as if they were a bunch of shivering mice, huddling together in the corner watching the black cat licking its paws with wide eyes staring right back at them. Each ready for the other to make the first move.
Those that haven't succumbed to ravaging waves that rocked the ship kept themselves busy thinking of happier, and less nauseating, thoughts. Like land, preferably land that is still and motionless and doesn't roll them in every direction, but mostly the girls they've left behind to take the exam. One by one, the men regaled the stories of the gals that whisked away their hearts. The more they talked about their loves, the less seasick they felt.
"I got a girl back home." One man began as the others leaned in expectantly. "She is the most beautiful girl you've ever seen." He pulled a picture of her out from his breast pocket and showed her off, winning the ohs and aws from the other applicants. Until he met a reaction he hadn't expected. A frown. It felt like a personal offense. It was a perfectly good reason to clobber the fool right then and there.
"That can't be true." The offender said.
"Excuse me? What do you mean by that?" The man stood up, fighting against the rocking waves, and puffed up his chest defiantly.
"Allow me to show you exactly what I mean." The burly man reached for his back, where his sword was, and just when everyone thought he was about to pull out his weapon—he whipped out a photograph of his wife. "Since my girl is the most beautiful there is, was, and ever will be."
Everyone gasped. She was very pretty.
The man looked at the photo of the offender's wife, but she paled in comparison to his own. "My girl enjoys romantic walks on the beach, and so do I."
The offender laughed, he wasn't about to back down. "I listen to my wife recite poetry because she is an intelligent woman of letters. They're so beautiful, I cry."
The man bumped into the offender with his puffed up chest. "My girl likes to cuddle and I let her be the big spoon."
The offender bumped him back. Hard. "When my wife comes home from work I give her foot rubs as a queen deserves."
The man ripped open his shirt showing off a tattoo of a heart with the names of the two loves of his life. His mom and his girlfriend.
The two men were at each other's throats.
Until a third intervened. "Gentlemen, have some self restraint. Both of your ladies are wonderful in their own right. BUT THEY ARE NOT GODDESSES LIKE MINE." The man opened his wallet which revealed an assortment of pictures of his numerous daughters. He bellowed. "These are the faces of perfection. NOW WEEP."
The men were ready to brawl. Their weapons were unsheathed. Their teeth were gnashed. This became more than the hunter exam….the loves of their lives were on the line and they will defend them with honor!
The man with the golden needles rattled as he stood up.
The entire lot of men backed up against the wall. This was the moment where they were all going to die. They eyed the porthole wondering how much of themselves they'd have to suck in to squeeze through it.
Gittarackur reached into his vest pocket.
One man got on his knees to pray for the first time in his life for whichever god is out there to be merciful.
They all screamed when he pulled out his weapon—oh, it was a piece of paper. Guess, it didn't require much for him to do them all in. Finally, when the screaming died down and the men realized that they were still alive they looked at the paper, really looked at it. It was a photograph.
Not just any photograph.
No.
It was a photograph of a babe!
Gittarackur pointed to it. "My wife."
Fear melted away as the crowd of men whooped, "one of us! One of us! One of us!" Welcoming Gittarackur into this strange brotherhood of men, who barely knew each other yet shared a kindred devotion of the women they adored in their lives.
Gittarackur rattled, happily.
Back above the ship, the hunter named Oliggel scanned the face of Gittarackur and saved it into a separate file. One that was not connected to the Hunter Association's database.
Once Upon a Time.
Those were Psyche's favorite words. Once upon, based on the fundamental principles of fairy tales these words cleverly spun together signified a moment unlike any other. There was none before it, and nothing like it to come after. A time. These words held the most importance of all. It happened. It did. Love happened. It's real and it's hers. Once Upon a Time. The writers of old knew the power hidden in these words, and so did she. Those words were the prelude to a great love.
Psyche's life didn't begin with Once Upon a Time, but she remembered the moment when it did. All because of him. She was six, an age when impulsiveness and selfishness peak in young and restless minds. An age where dimple cheeks and angelic smiles would no longer guarantee her entrance inside the Zoldyck Estate. She was old enough to fight, kill and therefore open the testing gates on her own.
Now, she had to be tested. And the testing gates won. One by one, her siblings pushed through those towering gray stones and made their way to the Zoldycks. One by one, they left her behind. It was the greatest disappointment of her young life when those stones wouldn't budge for her. She spent the better half of the next hour crying softly to herself in Zebro's office as they watched tour bus after tour bus come by. Lamentation tours, it was called. No one dared try to open the gates, they only posed and took pictures. Some children even dared each other to touch it. Standing several feet back, arms rigidly held in front of them like wires while the children behind them goded them on. Nudging any daring child forward. One boy grabbed the child who was pushing him from behind and the two began to quarrel until a little girl stomped in front of the rowdy crowd, slammed her hand on the gate, for a whole 5 seconds, then walked away as the children whooped in her honor.
Psyche was tired of waiting. When Zebro was helping to fix a flattened tire on the Lamentation Tour bus she took the key to the intruder door. She rattled the key in the lock and with a click, she walked right in. Already heading towards the manor.
She didn't think Mike would attack her having already seen her multiple times before inside the estate's grounds when her and Illumi would play together on the playground. Regardless, Mike had orders. Kill everyone that enters through the intruder's door. Little girls weren't an exception. Mike pounced, paws off the ground, with its jaw opened wide to snatch Psyche.
Illumi got to Psyche first. That was when her Once Upon a Time began.
"Stand down, Mike!" Illumi barked at Mike, who was still snapping its razor sharp jaws and chasing Illumi as he carried Psyche from tree to tree. Mike's jaws snapped at the branches, bringing old trees down to the ground with a thunderous crash. Illumi slammed his hand down on Mike's snout. Crushing the ground beneath the guard dog as it whimpered beneath its master's hand. Illumi's eyes were dark and bleak as he said grimly, "you don't eat this one."
The guard dog stayed there even after Illumi slowly lifted his hand off Mike's snout.
Psyche leaned her head against Illumi's shoulder. She was six years old and she was in love. "You're my hero."
Illumi titled his head away from her. He was eight years old, too cynical for his age, and dreadfully annoyed. He put Psyche down and reached into his pockets. The bones he had collected in there were smashed from trying to dodge Mike's attacks. He could glue them back together later—
"Um, thank you for saving me, I–"
Illumi snatched the key from her and flipped it in his hand. "This isn't yours." He deadpanned.
Psyche looked down at the ground. "I was only borrowing it."
"Thief." Illumi sang.
"I'm sorry," Psyche could feel herself shrinking. "I just wanted to see you."
Illumi paused for a brief moment. He didn't expect that, or believe it. He reached into his pocket and grabbed an object and placed it in her own. When he let go, it was a tiny gray skull of a mouse.
Psyche blinked. Then she smiled. "Thank you!"
Illumi narrowed his eyes. Vexed. He thought she was going to scream. How boring. He took the skull back and into his pocket. "You've seen me. Now you can go back the way you came." When he turned around something stopped him. Psyche grabbed the back of his jacket. He growled.
"I'm scared to go back by myself." Psyche turned around and shivered when Mike was still looking at her. The guard dog licked his tongue against his teeth.
Illumi sighed. "Mike will kill anyone who doesn't enter through the testing gate. If you were scared then you shouldn't have come inside. The tourists have more sense than you—"
Psyche's eyes were watering.
Illumi groaned. He grabbed her hand and practically dragged her back to the intruder's door. Psyche noticed that he had bandages along his neck, and a bandaid on his cheek.
"What happened to you?"
"These?" Illumi pointed to his wounds. "Training. Don't you train?"
Psyche nodded. "Mama heals our wounds when she's done training us, so we don't wear bandages often."
"Shh. No talking." Illumi regretted answering. It would take him longer to bring her back if they kept talking the entire time.
"Do you want to play a game?"
Illumi literally said not to talk. "With who?"
"Me."
"No. Walk faster." Illumi was already doing something before she showed up and decided to become Mike's dinner.
Psyche looked around the woods, "I spy with my little eye…"
"You can keep talking, but only to yourself." Illumi made an ultimatum. He didn't feel like talking, especially not after his training session with his father. He just wanted to be left alone.
Psyche huffed, dragging her feet. "You used to play with me."
Illumi tugged her hand. "Those were baby games. I'm not a baby anymore."
"Remember when you gave me a diamond?"
Illumi turned his head around and raised an eyebrow. There weren't any mines or diamonds on Kukuroo Mountain. Nor would he go into his mother's jewelry box and take one. If Illumi did find a diamond hidden somewhere in the Mountain then he was going to keep it for himself. "No."
"Why do you have bones in your pocket?"
"Because."
"Why?"
"Why not."
"But why?"
"Why not." Illumi pulled her arm and pushed her to the other side of the gate. He tossed the key back to her.
Psyche almost fell when he did.
"Don't come back until you can open THAT." He pointed towards the testing gate then slammed the door shut.
Psyche has loved Illumi ever since she was a little girl. It was fitting that he was the start of her Once Upon a Time. Psyche excitedly hurried out of her room with all of her packed belongings. She didn't waste one minute of her night tossing and turning restlessly, wondering if that was the last time she was ever going to see Illumi. Instead of planning a funeral or writing a rough draft of a eulogy smeared with teardrops, she bought tickets to Dolle Harbor and held the tracker Zeno gave her from last night in her hands. Illumi was already on land. Thank god the sea didn't claim him. She was too young to be a widow. She slung her bag over her shoulder and passed Amane who was carrying a silver mirrored tray which held a bowl of sapphire and crimson berries, a plate of honey baked biscuits, and a tea cup with a small teapot.
Amane hadn't expected Psyche to be up already. Her orders were to serve Psyche breakfast in bed. "Mistress, forgive me for not awakening you sooner."
"Good morning, Amane. Are these for me?" Psyche looked at the delicately arranged tray, happily.
"Yes, will you have breakfast in your room? Or on the balcony with the family?"
"Thank you." Psyche took a biscuit off the tray and bit into it. The sweetness of the honey coated biscuit tingled her mouth. "If it was any other day I'd love to, but it'll have to be neither."
Amane nodded, so her Mistress will be skipping breakfast and would like to proceed onward to today's activities. "Of course. We do have a busy day ahead of us."
"I will be taking a rain check on all of it. You can take the day off, Amane. What do you like to do for fun?"
Amane was perplexed. Fun wasn't allowed until her shift ended. "From the moment you wake till the moment you fall asleep, my duty is to faithfully serve you."
Psyche lightly scrunched her nose. "That doesn't sound like fun."
A small smile cracked on Amane's lips.
"If you are to follow my orders, then I order you to have a day of absolute leisure. Treat yourself. Have a biscuit." Psyche handed her a biscuit.
Amane took it, but wouldn't eat it. "Why is that?" Amane wasn't sure what to do, she had specific orders from Kikyo to help acclimate Psyche to the household. A butler shouldn't defy their master's orders, but defying Kikyo was even more terrifying.
Psyche smiled, twirling dreamily. Amane straggled behind her. "I'm going to see my husband."
"I wasn't notified that Master Illumi returned home yet."
"He hasn't, and I expect he won't for some time."
Amane looked confused as she fretfully followed Psyche into the living room where Zeno and Zifira were taking their morning tea. The grandparents both looked at eachother with knowing smiles. Zifira stirred her tea as she spoke to Psyche and pretended to be surprised by her ready-to-track-down-my-husband attire, "Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?"
"Wonderfully." Psyche woke up enlightened with only one goal in mind.
"Is that so? We were beginning to worry that we may have stressed you out, only a bit, over all the numerous and painful ways Illumi could die. Please don't feel as if that was our intention from the start, a grandmother cannot help but worry after her grandchildren. You can simply never be too careful."
"It didn't stress me out at all." Stress didn't even begin to cover how she felt. Psyche had a nightmare in which Illumi was dragged beneath the floorboards of her room by a ravenous blood hopper, and when it was done feasting on her beloved the creature coughed up his hideous green suit with puffed sleeves and used Illumi's gold needles to pick out the bits of her husband stuck between thousands of its teeth. So yes, she had a very pleasant, stress free night. "I didn't know there were so many ways to die while endeavoring to take the hunter exam."
"Murder. It is what we do best. Oh! Are you going out?"
Psyche's smile beamed. "For a bit."
Zeno's tea cup clinked against his saucer. "What of Illumi's status? Don't tell me the poor boy has managed to fall dead into a ditch already?"
Psyche showed them the tracker and the little dot that was slowly moving on land. "He's alive! The coordinates indicate that he is heading towards Zaban City."
Zeno feigned relief, placing a withered hand over his heart. "This is good news. I am a stronger man than I was yesterday."
Zifira nodded. "That is good, good news, indeed. But what will you do with this news?"
"I think I'll be able to meet him on the way. He's not too difficult to track down. Just to wish him good luck before the exam and boost his morale." And to make sure he gets there safely too. Psyche pulled her printed out ticket from her purse.
"That's an excellent idea! It will be the most wonderful surprise for Illumi. Why hadn't we thought of this sooner, Zeno!"
"I feel as if I'm under-equipped to aid you in your journey–oh!" Zeno smiled, lightly, and gestured for Psyche to come closer to him. He whipped out a piece of paper that already had Illumi's phone number written on it. Just in case she needed it. For this exact situation. "His phone number. I can't guarantee he'll answer, being that he is so focused on getting to the exam. But it wouldn't hurt to try."
Psyche took her husband's phone number and held it as if it was the winning lottery ticket, "Thank you."
Zifira smiled. "You're family now. And family helps track down family."
Psyche could cry. Having caring grandparents was a beautiful blessing. "Thank you. Grandfather. Grandmother."
"If only we could help more," Zifira sighed.
"Alas. Our hands are tied." Zeno sighed deeply.
"You've helped me plenty."
Milluki barged into the room with his hair combed neatly back, his shirt iron-pressed and tucked neatly into his jeans. He looked like the spitting image of a telemarketer. He walked rigidly as if he was nervous about something. Or someone.
Psyche smiled at him, "Good morning."
Milluki tripped on his own feet, and cursed himself internally for it. "G-good morning." Milluki looked at Psyche from head to toe–and she noticed. "You haven't been taken to Mike, yet?" He turned to Amane, vexed. Amane shuddered.
Psyche blinked. "The guard dog? Why?"
Milluki composed himself. "So Mike will know that you are a part of the family he has to protect. He needs to be able to differentiate you from outside threats and classify you as a Zoldyck. We wouldn't want him to potentially attack you or neglect to protect you if your life's in danger, regardless of how you enter or leave the estate grounds. Amane should have explained this to you and taken you to his kennel by now." He sneered at the young butler. He saw the biscuit in her hands. "And you're eating? ON DUTY?"
"Forgive me, Master Milluki." Amane bowed, apologetically. The biscuit she was holding felt heavy like a block of cement.
Milluki stepped forward.
Amane shuddered.
Psyche interjected. "It's my fault entirely. I was too caught up in my own plans and wouldn't let Amane explain." She didn't want Amane to get into trouble just because she was impatient to leave and find Illumi. She went beside Amane and smiled, motioning that bowing wasn't necessary. "I hope I won't make it too hard for you to keep me on the straight and narrow path, but I can't promise that I won't be trouble from here on out either. So please take care of me."
A weight lifted off Amane's shoulders. Easing her. "Yes, Mistress."
"Milluki," Zeno and Zifira narrowed their eyes towards him. Icy and cold glares that scolded him for daring to interfere with love.
"Psyche is busy, she can be taken to Mike when she returns from her trip." Zifira grumbled.
"But this is Mama's orders…"
"Mil, do you do everything your mother tells you to do?" Zeno asked, dryly.
"Do you?" Milluki barked back.
"No, I do everything SHE tells me to do." Zeno pointed his spoon to his wife.
Zifira smiled smugly. "And that's how it should be." Zifira leaned towards her husband for a kiss and it was the cutest thing Psyche has ever seen. They were #couplegoals. She couldn't help but wonder how Illumi is going to react when she sees him. He will be so surprised!
"It's alright. Amane can take me to Mike. I'd rather it be done now than later or else the idea of turning into his dinner will loom over my head until it gets done. Though, I don't think I'd make a good appetizer." Psyche turned to Amane and laughed.
Milluki gestured for Amane to stand aside. "This duty falls on a member of the Zoldyck Family to carry out. You may leave." He opened the door for Psyche and guided her towards Mike's kennel.
Zeno's shoulders slouched when they all left the room, the weight of immense disappointment bending his back. He groaned miserably. "One dog leading her to another."
"Zeno," Zifira chastised him. "The only dog to worry about is the one sitting directly across from me."
Zeno barked once.
"You're terrible."
"I love you."
They clinked their tea cups together, celebrating their scheming going according to plan.
Water pooled in Psyche's palms as she held them under the running faucet. She rinsed her mouth out, washing away the lingering taste of boys and midnight kisses from her pink lips. She slowly traced her fingers over her lips, and they still tingled as if Illumi hadn't stopped kissing her in his bed. Was this what kissing the boy of your dreams felt like? As if every kiss was coated with shooting stars and each was a wish come true. Illumi. Everything about him was intoxicating. Her body shivered as she replayed those memories of him and her entwined laying together in his bed. Like revisiting a delicious dream—only it was real and it was hers. His muscles were raw iron. His arms were strong as he held her legs wide apart. Psyche ashamedly blushed when Illumi saw how wet she was and teased her for it.
"Did you think of me?" Illumi leaned his head against her thigh. His hair tickled her skin. There was a strikingly beautiful duality about Illumi that Psyche adored. Strands of black hair softly fell just over his face, it was beginning to grow long enough that it started to cover his eyes. There was an aura of innocence as he blew away a strand from his face and looked up at her with warmth, awaiting her response with earnestness. Yet, he was terribly bad in all the best ways. He wouldn't act until she answered him despite already knowing the answer, all because selfishly enough, he wanted to hear her words drip for him. He wanted her to admit to wanting him. Wanting him so badly she couldn't think of anything else nor care about anyone else.
Always. I always think of you. Psyche wanted to admit, but she only had the strength to say, "yes." Psyche's voice was soft. Weakened by the weight of her thundering heart.
He kissed her inner thigh. Slowly moving downward at a languid pace–watching Psyche become twisted in an aching knot of want from denying her when he stopped. "How long?" Illumi did not take his eyes off her. He was the kind of boy that enjoyed seeing the girl he liked fall short of words because he had the power to take them all away—with a look, a kiss, a touch—or lack thereof.
Illumi stroked her between her legs with his hand—Psyche arched her back in surprise. Stifling a moan as she breathed in deeply. Illumi snickered, watching as her hips lifted up as his hand did. Her body wanted him, that was clear. His fingers came back wet and he brought them to his parted lips. A precious hue of pink fading across his cheeks. His tongue gently licked the tips with light brushes, not taking his eyes off her as he sucked on his middle finger. His lips finished with a little pop when he was done, making her burn between her legs.
"All day. I thought about you all day." Psyche could no longer deny the scorching fire that burned for him as agony laced her words. She wanted him to touch her–she'd willingly lay herself down for him to devour her. Now, it has become painfully unbearable. She was addicted to him, that was irrefutably undeniable.
Illumi smiled. That was exactly what he wanted to hear.
Illumi gripped her hips and pressed his fingers into her skin. Trapping her beneath him as he lapped at her core. He parted her folds and flicked the tip of his tongue against her just to hear the sound of her first moan before he began to suck at the peak of her cunt. Psyche fanned her arms beside herself, clasping the sheets as he sent waves of pleasure building up inside of her. She learned early on that Illumi wasn't kind—he would start off slowly. Circling his tongue with languid motions leaving her wanting so badly until she found herself begging him to go faster. He'd grant her wish and push his tongue harder against her, quickening the pace. Self restraint was a myth, he'd surprise himself of how badly he wanted to eat her out. Her sharp and broken breathing fuelled him as he sent her spiraling towards climaxing. He knew he sent her tumbling towards ruin when her legs would quiver and shake, and her moans became so powerful she'd cover her mouth with her hand as if that could restrain her from crying out loud. Illumi liked her this way as silence didn't suit her. He grabbed a hold onto her tighter, refusing to let her legs snap shut.
When he was finished, it felt as if Psyche was just coming back into her own body. Slowly regaining her senses remembering where she was; she was in Illumi's room lying on his bed that felt like a cloud of pure enchantment. Then she looked back at him and shuddered. Wondering whether she was going to be ripped from the clouds and plunge back into savage waves of Illumi's wicked delights.
Illumi kneeled between her legs and looked as if he was facing an imminent crisis. His breathing was deeper, cheeks were reddened and his eyes were cloudy with an unmistakably thick haze of lust that wasn't easily extinguishable. His lips were glossy–traces of her he hadn't bothered to wipe away and took his time savoring. He took his time, enjoying every morsel just like dessert. Even Illumi fell prey to such weaknesses. But below his waist was what scared and excited Psyche the most—he was hard. And he wanted to do something about it.
"Talk some sense to me." IIlumi breathed, bare chest rising and falling, his voice breaking—on the verge of begging. He would submit himself to desperation if it meant he could feel himself inside of her. He forgot about the world and only thought of her. There was nothing more he ever wanted than to have her walls close around him and not let go until he came inside her. She was already so wet, it would be so easy for him to slide himself deep within her. In his mind, he was already fucking her. Pinning her legs down to the bed and shaking the bed frame with powerful thrusts. If someone didn't reason with him now then he was bound to make a mistake. The longer he waited, the less he gave a damn about reason. "Please."
That was Illumi's mistake. He entrusted her to reason with him. But she desired him too. She wanted to know what he felt like inside of her. Merciless and without restraint. "Do you have…" She gulped. "Condoms?" She said softly. She never had penetrative sex with Illumi before–she'd never done anything like this with a boy before either. He was her first for everything. And she wanted her first time to be with him too.
"Don't ask me that." He wondered how it would feel to graze the tip of his cock against her. How it would slip between her folds and then—Even if it were just the tip to go inside her and nothing more. "My mother would kill me. Then your mom would kill me again."
"That's overkill."
"It still wouldn't be enough." The longer he waited, the more his cock swelled with insatiable impatience. Rising unabashedly with an erection. He could fuck her hard. Her opened legs invited him to. All he had to do was withdraw from her before he came. He was already throbbing, and the head of his cock dripped with a clear fluid. But the withdrawal method wasn't entirely risk free either.
"That's not—" Psyche stopped herself. No, it was true. If Illumi got her pregnant then one of them would wound up dead. Still…she grazed her finger over his tip, Illumi breathlessly closed his eyes and moaned. Psyche lowered her hand and squeezed around his shaft—tightening her grip as she began stroking him. Illumi dropped lower, palms resting on the bed, hips slowly rolling forward and back as her hand did over his stiff cock.
"Ah–" A moan escaped his pink lips. "Ah."
"Does it feel good?"
"I want you."
Again. She wanted to hear him say it again.
As Psyche was stroking him with slow tenderness, all Illumi could think about was watching her face contort with pleasure and pain, with her mouth open wide and tears brimming at the corners of her eyes as he slammed his cock into her with lightning fast shots. No. He wasn't going to withdraw from her. He wanted her walls to squeeze tight around him until he orgasmed inside her, rendering himself dumb and useless. Every last drop of him was going to leak inside her. She was his and his alone to mark. Then he grabbed her hand, leaned back away from her, and looked up at the ceiling. Regaining his breath, sighing, "you're not helping."
"I am." Psyche pressed her thighs around him and she noticed the way his breath hitched and hips easily swayed forward when she did. He was looking for reason in all the wrong places and he would not find any of his conscience within her, let alone himself. "I want to help you in every way that I can. If you'll let me."
He will hate himself in the morning, and probably every morning for the rest of his life for what he was about to do next. He leaned his head down to her stomach, his bangs bruising against her with feather-like kisses, and groaned. He propped up his head, resting his chin on her, and mouthed the words, "Black Angel." Now, he tested the words out loud on his tongue just to see how they would sound. To see if they would bewitch him just as everything else about her did. "Black Angel."
"That's what they call me."
"For an angel, you are very cruel."
"That's about right."
Illumi bent his head down, hiding his smile from her. Suppressing a laugh.
"Why do you do that?"
He whipped his head back up. "Oh, do what?"
"You have such a beautiful smile. Don't hide it."
How could she say something like that and expect him not to hide away his blushing face? He flipped onto his back to lay beside her—which took all his strength. Resisting the girl he wanted to have sex with who also wanted to have sex with him was the hardest thing he's ever hard to do. Damn, he's an idiot. "I'm a man and I'll hide if I want to."
Illumi kissed her on her lips, a spark of embers ignited him and he cursed himself for fueling that fire. But one more kiss couldn't hurt. Right? One kiss landed after another, becoming an insatiable frenzy, until they were both sweating and burning—and his engorged cock didn't cease to harden. Between kisses, between the broken breaths, he told her to go. She wouldn't.
"I have become a bad influence on you."
She kissed him harder, letting her push him back against the bed and caving in the more he felt her bare skin upon his own. He moaned softly. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." She loomed over him, ready to straddle herself on his hips. "I can do it."
Illumi stared up at her with the dim lights shining down on her head creating a halo. He was going to say yes.
And, for once, that scared him.
He was quick to act. Grasping her arms and throwing her back down on his bed, pinning her beneath him. Psyche gasped as his lips crashed against her neck and hands roamed her body coated with a heavy tang of lust. He grabbed, he pried, he nipped at her skin. She yelped, she cried, she called out his name. By morning, she'll find dark crescent marks scattered on her neck.
He needs a release, or else he won't make it through the night without sleep. He'll toss and turn and his blood will boil until the sun rises. Illumi leaned backwards, leaving Psyche to only hold the warm night summer air against her bare chest. He reached his hand out and clasped Psyche's chin, circling her moist lips with his thumb—prying them open. His voice was heavy, "you help me more than you realize." He probed his thumb into her mouth and caressed it over her tongue—then pushed himself deeper into the back of her throat.
Psyche whimpered.
"Look up at me."
She did. Mouth opened wide with him in it.
"Good girl," he smiled while lowering her head towards his groin. "Now—ah. Yes—like that." Her lips sucked the head of his cock—and slowly sunk her head further down, forcing Illumi to let out a shameless groan. Engulfing his shaft that pressed firmly against the insides of her cheeks.
Psyche pushed her tongue around his throbbing mass and pulled her head back. Looking up at him while she did, watching him slowly unravel in front of her and succumb to this forbidden language of a young lover's lips.
Illumi's body was shivering when she pushed her head down on him—then back up. 'Ah—" A comfortable rhythm was met when Illumi slowly reclined onto his back; head turning to the side with his mouth agape while moaning softless hymns of euphoric rapture. All ration and reason and common sense easily escaped him, forgetting anything and everything as she consumed him. This was where he desired to be. Moments where he was far detached from his own mind—away from his own merciless darkness. Gasping for air and gripping her hair as her movements became faster and messier. He could feel his hips rising, pressure building, back arching, he was standing on the edge of the shore and a tsunami was about to crash against the sand dunes and then—
He whipped his head back and roared as all his muscles tensed into an electrifying explosion. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession as he came inside her. Feeling everything inside of him rapidly jet out until there was nothing left. When his hips fell back down all he could so was lie there stupidly, huffing and immobilized, and watch as his thick, white liquid dripped down her perfect lips. "Thank…you." Illumi was barely able to breath out.
Psyche spat into the sink.
The faucet hummed a low whistle as water swirled in the sink. She pulled back her hair and examined her neck, tracing the marks he left on her. Still fresh. Still raw.
Once the high wore off, a bitter taste snapped at the back of her throat. Was it always going to be like this? The chagrin residue of embarrassment spiraled down the bathroom sink and plunged into the drain. Sneaking kisses in empty rooms when no one was looking, getting down on her knees when night fell, and fighting the urge to hold his hand in front of their families. Psyche was doomed to a lousy fate of falling in love with a boy who wanted to keep her a secret, and in his bed.
She wanted him to take her rollerblading and hold her hand on the rink while 80s music blared over their heads and they'd have to yell into each other's ears just to manage fragments of a conversation. She wanted him to take her to the movie theater and share a big bucket of buttery popcorn and he would pretend to yawn and stretch and casually wrap his arm around her shoulder because maybe she was getting a little cold sitting in the back of the theater despite being comfortably warm. She wanted to lie with him in his family's mountains under the shifting clouds in the pale blue sky and slowly fall deeper in love while listening to Edwin McCain's 'I'll Be' each sharing the same pair of earbuds. She wanted to turn around and have him surprise her with a bouquet of flowers not because it was valentine's day or her birthday or any other reason other than that he was her boyfriend and felt like giving his girlfriend flowers.
Psyche wanted Illumi to call her his girlfriend. She wants to one day be his wife. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, she wished Eros was here. Maybe he'd tell her how stupid she was for falling in love with the worst kinds of boys.
The next morning when she awoke, wiping away the stains of dried up tears, she found a bouquet of flowers just outside her door. Even before opening the door, she could smell the overpowering allure of lilacs that reached every corner of her room, making her feel guilty she was crying about Illumi at all. Between the white roses, which made it even more divine, there was a little card. The lettering was typed out in a shiny black font, 'I'm a gift." And what a wonderful gift it is! She looked on the back of the card, but it did not say who it was from.
She already knew.
This was Illumi's declaration of his love for her. He left it outside her door waiting for her to see it. How long has it been there and how many butlers saw it this morning? How many whispers flung full force into delicious gossip that drifted through the servants corridors like a powerful wind? This meant that he wanted to go public. He was done keeping her in the dark.
Psyche carried the bouquet with her to the patio where she knew he would be.
In the summer, the Zoldyck children always had breakfast on the patio. Where the warm sunlight filters through the glass panels as they overlook the Mountainscape. Illumi was sitting at the table, eating breakfast with the rest of his siblings. Milluki was eating a hefty platter of eggs and bacon and oven roasted tomatoes, and Killua only ate the marshmallows from his bowl of cereal while picking out the oats and flinging them at Illumi's head. Eldest siblings never fall short of duties. Illumi swallowed a mouthful of food as he wiped a napkin across Kalluto's face where his brother seemed to get oatmeal everywhere except in his mouth despite being old enough to feed himself. The messier Kalluto was with his food the more Killua paid attention to him and laughed. And when his face was clean, Killua would turn his attention back to Alluka. Kalluto frowned, face turning a bright shade of red. Illumi didn't understand why Kalluto was so upset when he started to cry. Illumi thought it was because of him, but then Kalluto cried in sometimes soft, sometimes sharp whimpers that Killua hates him.
"Killua," Illumi knocked at the setting in front of Killua when he wasn't listening. Killua never bothered himself to listen to Illumi. "Give Kalluto a hug." Killua's chair screeched when he ran from his side of the table to Kalluto. He wrapped his arms tightly around his little brother and kissed him on the forehead, shushing fat tears out of existence, no one had to tell Killua to give anyone kisses. He could do that himself.
There were a lot of things Illumi liked about Psyche. He liked that she wasn't intimidated about who he was. Naturally many would say the Zoldycks have a special place in hell for what they are, not that Illumi cared what outsiders–or the Lamentation Tours rides that periodically drive by his home daily—thought of him and his family. You don't have to be a killer to have a special spot reserved next to the devil. Many can by leading less than ordinary lives. If one was the type to believe in those things like a little horned man wielding a spiky fork, cackling beneath the earth. He didn't consider himself religious but he was, however, inclined to believe in angels. Well, just one, really. Illumi liked that Psyche would listen to him, at first he wondered if she was just messing with him. Casually nodding her head, like nice girls are supposed to do, with thoughtless care as he explained things his own mother wished he wouldn't idle himself with. Like moss, mushrooms, and metatarsals. Three of his favorite things.
Since he was a little boy, he took playing dirty literally, as he would always come back into the manor covered with dirt with pockets rattling with rocks and shards of broken ceramic from all the digging he would do. Kikyo would say she didn't give birth to a little boy, but a goblin.
Moss that grows on rocks, below the hollowed bark of fallen tree branches, or scaling up the sides of the towering Mountain. Mushrooms that spring from the muddy iron rich soil or spotted fungi that blossom and float on the surface of a cool spring stream just like lily pads. Not to mention bones bones bones bones bones. Kukuroo Mountain was practically a nature reserve and never fell short of all the treasures Illumi would find nestled in the dirt littered with the remains of creatures that once roamed the grounds day and night. He found fragments of mandibles and metatarsals of foxes and fawns; it was rare to find entire skeletons intact. Bones would be scattered meters apart, carried away by scavengers to nests and burrows and dens. Empty turtle shells would best be found by the river bed, or outside Mike's kennel. Mike had a penchant for snacking on turtles, crushing their tough shells as if they were tic tacs. He knew where to look, wearing rubber gloves and rubber boots and carrying plastic bags and little shovels and brushes. Illumi didn't know what normal boys did for fun; he found dead things, and to him that was fun.
None of this weirded Psyche out. On the contrary, she brought him the broken remains of a robin's egg she found underneath an oak tree just outside her home. She unwrapped the delicate blue egg with brown speckles from a handkerchief. She thought he would like it. And to this day, he still has it, in one of his drawers in his room. A blue egg snug in a nest made of white and gray bones of Vulpes vulpes.
He also liked that she could make his heart beat wilder than it ever had before and have him panting and gasping for air while he was lying on the edge of his bed, making him forget that he ever existed; throwing his head back as he came with her on her knees with his cock in her mouth.
He liked that she would listen to him about things he only had courage to say in the dark…sometimes wishing he could run away with her again. And they were in that same hotel room and there was no world outside those walls except the one within them. She never revealed what was spoken between them at that time either, Psyche was loyal like that.
But most of all, whatever he wanted her to do—she did it. It was an intoxicating feeling having the power to consume another's thoughts and actions. And willingly obey him.
Given all these reasons, he couldn't fathom why it struck him odd that she stood there in front of him, thanking him for a bouquet of flowers he had never seen before. Then it occurred to him when he noticed that Milluki was wearing a long sleeved shirt despite it being summer, the band aids that covered the wounds on his wrists caused none other by not knowing how to properly shear roses in a hurry, and the look of internal dread in Milluki's eyes when Psyche mistook the giver of the bouquet for his older older and not him.
It did not help that Psyche's sisters dropped whatever conservation they were holding and replaced it with the scene unfolding in front of them. Anomie promised she was going to be cannon fire if Illumi broke her little sister's heart, not to mention when Chaotica began awwing, attracting the attention of both their mothers. Calypsa and Kikyo dropped their own conversation faster than an egg falling from a nest. Kikyo clasped her hands to her cheeks and never felt prouder that she raised such a gentleman! At that moment, Kikyo knew Illumi was serious about a marriage arrangement with Psyche. Calypsa knew it was inevitably going to happen all along.
Kikyo cooed, angelically. "Illu, you picked flowers for Psyche! How splendid!" Already, she was planning a wedding date in her head. Counting off boxes on the calendar, opting for Fridays and Saturdays, and crossing off Mondays through Thursdays as definitive No's. She always wanted to plan a summer wedding.
'I didn't.' Illumi wanted to say, but some things are better left unsaid. It was too early in the morning to break a girl's heart.
Psyche's eyes were sparkling for Illumi. "Thank you for the flowers."
Milluki looked like he wanted to throw up everything he just ate.
"I love them." Psyche's cheeks were flushed. Everything she was feeling, she was feeling for Illumi.
Milluki was actually preventing himself from gagging at this point. He could feel acid rush up his esophagus and plummet back down into his stomach. He swallowed vomit and humiliation.
Milluki chose to hold onto resentment. His fork clanged against the plate, scraping against the dried up residues of egg yolks and burnt bread crumbs from his toast. "Those look tacky." Despite the fact that he picked them out himself. Rummaging through the gardens, something he never does, like a fool in love. He chose purple because that was Psyche's favorite color and white because his love for her was pure. He wished Eros was here, he would help make fun of that bouquet and shamelessly wreck it, but Eros stopped visiting when his sisters did. Apparently, he didn't have the motivation to get out of bed and slept until the sun began to set in the evening. Milluki hated Eros too, of all times he chose now to be depressed? Asshole.
Illumi looked at his younger brother. Milluki noticed a slight smirk.
If his brother was too cowardly to put his name on the card, then he shouldn't get credit for it.
Everyone gasped when Illumi grabbed Psyche's hand and kissed it, causing a victorious ruckus around them. Psyche looked like she was going to faint from pure happiness.
The world felt like it was ripped from beneath Milluki's feet as it went by in a blur. Soon Psyche was next to Illumi, closer than he had ever seen them before. A butler came and put the flowers in a vase and next thing Milluki knew there was already a lilac in Psyche's hair—Illumi placed it there. How had he missed that from happening when he was staring at them the whole time?
Milluki's chair screeched against the tiles and no one bothered to look at him as he left the patio. Everyone was too preoccupied with the bride and groom to be. It made him sick. That's what he gets for trying to do something nice for someone. Nice guys like him finish last for a reason. Illumi takes all the credit like the fucking asshole that he is. Sometimes Milluki wanted to kill Illumi. He'd get him alone, just the two of them, and Illumi would be begging on his knees and apologizing for ever treating Milluki like shit. The best part was Milluki stepping over Illumi, towering over his older brother, and telling him off in a multitude of ways which usually varied depending on how sour Milluki was feeling that day:
Blood dripped from Illumi's lips as he shuddered like a scared child, "you…you monster!"
Milluki used the end of his sword to turn Illumi's face up, towards his own. This was Milluki's fantasy, he could have a sword if he wanted to. "There's worse. I could be you."
"NO!" Illumi would scream, defeated by the venomous words alone before Milluki struck him down; killing him once and for all. And Milluki would glow like a fucking god, because he's just awesome like that and now everyone knows it. Psyche would run up to him, not before trampling over Illumi's dead body, and would drop herself over Milluki's armor. Swooning.
"Illumi was a menace, I'm so happy you killed him."
"Someone had to do it. Why not me." Milluki would flip his hair to the side, which would make Chaotica seethe with jealousy and cry, "You're so lucky, Psyche. I was a fool to turn down Milluki." Then she would take up his sword and point it towards her chest because a life without Milluki was no life worth living.
Anomie would grab the sword out of Chaotica's hands. "It's not fair! I've been too shy to proclaim my love for him and now it's too late. Milluki is too sexy for a girl like me! Without him I'm hideous!" The girl in question had blonde hair, blue eyes, and big boobs. Tragic. "Give me the sword!" The two sisters would ensnare in a fight over who would be spared from a life of total agony first.
Psyche would lean her head on Milluki and sigh dreamily while drawing a heart on his suit of armor. "They're so pathetic."
"Ladies," Milluki would say, stopping the girls, swords halted towards their hearts. He opened his arms, grandly. "There is enough of me to go around for all of you."
And then Chaotica and Anomie would throw themselves at Milluki too, not before trampling over Illumi's dead body. Again.
But then…the bubble burst and reality set in. Milluki remembered who was the stronger of the two, and felt even more miserable than before Psyche entered the patio looking like a summer goddess. Killing Illumi was always going to remain a long desired, yet unfulfilled fantasy. The reason Psyche glowed with radiance was because of Milluki, not Illumi. If she believed otherwise than she was just as stupid as his older brother. Ha! Idiots are suited for each other anyway!
Milluki went into the kitchen and didn't bother looking at what snacks he ripped from the cabinets. He didn't care what he ate, he just wanted to eat. Then he went back into his room and filled the growing void inside him with greasy potato chips and doughy chocolate chip cookies. He felt sick afterwards. He wanted to feel sick.
A full stomach fills the space left by an empty, aching heart.
The Captain watched as the last of the hunter applicants left the ship. Some embarked sooner, others decided it was the end of the line for them and decided to return home. It was for the best, better to cut your losses then lose your life, especially those that have families back home counting on them to survive. This year may be promising, but this was as far as he could go. Maybe he will see the same applicants again on his ship next year. If they don't get themselves killed while taking the exam. He hoped the man in the green suit would pass so he wouldn't have to see him again. What a freak. He laughed heartily.
"Oliggel." The Captain called out to the hunter, whom he saw leaning over the railing of the deck probably puking his guts out. "Congrats, my boy, you survived the journey! How does it feel to earn your sea legs?"
The boy stayed quiet, body perched over the railing. Motionless.
"Oliggel?" The Captain reached over to the boy and tapped his shoulder. The body slipped down, abdomen sliding uncomfortably against the rails. Adrenaline spiked in the Captain's veins as he turned the body over, crying out for the ship's doctor. Oliggel's mouth was covered with blood and so was the white pillow that was still strapped around his abdomen. The blood seeped into the pillow creating a giant crater of red, the Captain ripped the pillow away as the doctor examined the wound. The Captain screamed, "Oliggel, hold on a little longer, we'll take you to the hospital!"
The doctor shook his head, eyes full of dread. "No need. The boy is already dead. The wound was fatal, but what's even more alarming is the care, if you can even call it that, that was taken to cover up and dress the wound to prevent excessive bleeding. But not enough to deal with all the muscle and nerve damage sustained from the injury. The dressing was sloppy, as if the person who did this was running short of time."
"What are you saying?"
The doctor scowled. "Someone attended to Oliggel's wound, but not with the intent to help him. No. They wanted to make sure he could last long enough without bleeding all over the deck for him to do whatever he needed to get done."
"Nen curse?"
"Without an autopsy it's tough to say."
"What does your gut say?"
"I'm almost 70%, no, 80% certain it is."
"Damn. That means the boy's been dead since the moment he stepped on my ship." The Captain's been spinning tales with a dead man this entire time.
"Yes. Notify the Hunter Association. The Hunter Oliggel was murdered and after death was used as a spy."
Thank you for reading chapter 10! A lot happens in this big chapter, i hope you liked reading it! Tell me what you thought :D i hope things didn't get too confusing, so imma summarize. Milluki has feelings for Psyche, and even though he does I do not intend to write a love triangle, but i do intend to write a lot of hurt feelings. Particularly crushing his lol Also, I assigned Illumi a goblincore aesthetic because he digs holes and sleeps in them canonically, so therefore...GOBLIN XD So his hobbies include (at least when he was younger) finding rocks, mushrooms, moss, and bones on Kukuroo Mountain hehe :D We don't really know what Illumi's hobbies/interests are except his thirst for power and world domination, but idk how to make that cute so i gave him moss instead! Also, concerning the flashback smut scene, Illumi likes Psyche, buuuuut he is also using her and that's why he's a d*ck-I WILL EXPLAIN MORE LATER ON. but! Everything that has happened between them will come back up and bite him in the ass. in time, trust me *coughs* ANOTHER DEADMAN? There is something nefarious afoot! Will Psyche uncover it? Stay tuned to find out!
Thank you so much for reading and please review! And stay safe!