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Apotheosis by Lyra

In Truth No Beauty

~For Azu~



In Truth No Beauty

Invent love for me anew, as you used;

invent the feeling and all its forms, bring

the stars back to this dark nightmare sky.


Then, whatever I possess of you, I know it is mine.

Then, whatever belongs, belongs forever.



It begins with fire and wine; with whispered words of ritual half-remembered, half newborn.

“Taste me; taste me as crisp Autumn, as cinnamon and saffron and nights made solitary. Taste me as drafted angels, as the Morning beautiful and terrible – taste me as the taut line of tendons in wrists and ankles, taste me as silk woven one thousand generations before noon opened its mouth.

His breath is hot against the center of her palm; his teeth are sharp against the pale throbbing skin that covers the dark veins; he is voice and growl and she commutes reality with instinct, a revelatory moment.

Not all his teeth are fangs but sharp enough they penetrate – she feels heat swoop sharp and slick from her throat to her thighs, up, up....

The blood flows; not more than three drops escape, dark and shining, from the corner of his mouth. She watches him and feels the burning increase; a drumbeat; a dance; a darkness. She hears the growling voice of the Inu before her, enriched with blood and fed with the scents of her body.

“Taste me; taste me as crisp Autumn.”

She knows quietly and only Crimson, an avalanche of sensation; she breathes his name and drinks the gold of his eyes like honey from the comb.


He holds her gaze and lets her lap at tender, broken flesh, parts spurting veins with willing claws until her mouth is dark.

When she has had enough – when the magic is building, the power flashing between them like lightning – she looks up at him and smiles a wet,red smile.

He thinks her more beautiful than ever.



Breathe, Rin thinks.


From the foremost edge of the crowd of guests that have come to witness this moment, this melding that is the mating ritual, Rin watches them – Kagome and her Sesshomaru-sama. She knows what is about to happen; for three months, since the mating ritual was announced, she has prepared herself – or tried to. For six weeks she wept and cried; for six more she went to the very limits of her power, trying to gain what so suddenly she appeared to be losing – jade talismans to enhance sexual prowess and power, the powdered horn of the rare albino rhinoceros, a mix of fragrant wine and herbs to heat the blood – aphrodisiacs potent enough to make a dozen men desire half the women of Nihon...but none of them had been enough to make Sesshomaru-sama want her.

Rin is fifteen and lovely, luscious in her curves and the clean, ripe scent of her body. She is well-dressed and well-mannered, her wild childhood behind her, and everywhere Sesshomaru-sama goes, she follows him...

But now that will no longer be true.

She hears the worst of the vows begin – the one she envies most; the vow forever, the vow that makes the meeting of flesh more than just lust.

She watches them undress each other, watches the miko's trembling fingers do the work she has begged the gods to give her – watches human hands so much like her own touch pale, perfect skin. She does not care for the miko's body, but Sesshomaru-sama -

He is lean, shatteringly gorgeous; he is the Moon and he is the Morning of the vow; he is Autumn and Winter, he is a god, he is everything she has ever wanted, everything, everything -

She stares; every muscle within her clenches, tightens. His erection juts out heavy and hard in front of him, tightening against his body as he stares at Kagome.



She could weep – it is Sesshomaru-sama's word, and it is for the miko...not for her.

Not for me. Never for me -

She cannot hate Sesshomaru-sama; she can never, never do that.

But Kagome. The miko who becomes, in these moments, the mate of Sesshomaru...


Kagome takes one step forward; she feels she is working towards some sweet end that all her flesh is tingling for but cannot name. A man – but he is not a man, he is the Beast of her desires given a shape that she can name.


Her voice is breath, and heat, and desire. She stands unashamed in her thin gauze, feels want rise in her as his eyes caress her skin – heavy, his eyes. She is dressed in threads of white and diamonds, and then in nothing but the precious purity of her own skin.

Sesshomaru has eyes only for her. Starlight clings to her features, her fingertips. His eyes are drawn to her breasts, the curve of her hips, the length of her legs, visible through the net of gems and gauze that is her garments. He stares into her eyes as he takes even that cover from her, then reaches between her thighs and lets his fingers slip through heat and slickness.

She moans easily, so easily – each time his fingers dip within her body, each time his claws graze the swollen pearl of nerves pulsing above her core. In those moment he knows that everything he wants is his; he sees in her his ultimate desire reflected.

To belong to him; to give him everything she is, and more.

He does not know that for every touch he gives Kagome, there are three reactions – his, and hers, and Rin's. He does not know that the sounds of Kagome's first climax are echoed by his ward's shuddering silence – he does not know that when he sheaths himself in Kagome's body, grinds out her name as the pleasure envelopes him, hot muscles clenching, begging, wanting -

The sound of Kagome's name breaks Rin into pieces, smashes the pieces into dust. She has felt so close to him – touching herself, feeling his hands on her, his hands -


But her name is not Kagome; not Kagome.

Not Kagome!

The pain is a new and more terrible fire, burning beside her lust.


A/N: Chapter one of Azu's fic, because Azu is awesome and deserves repayment for the gift of game. Bwahahaha. Three prompts from last night's DDN, edited into sense and a chapter. Be prepared for evil, manipulation, and the dark hand of destiny.

Oh, and smut, too. *Note: Since it's caused issues before, I make note now that epigram poems are written by and property :D

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