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shadowjackery · 1 year

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The Gladdest Thing Under the Sun

I honestly thought we were supposed to wait a couple of days after the zine’s release, but, heck, everyone else is doing it, so here we are: My contribution to @gensokyozine . I’ve wanted to do this story for a while, so I hope you enjoy!

Descriptive text for the visually impaired or for easy quotation:

PAGE 1

Title: "Shadowjack presents: The Gladdest Thing under the Sun"

Yuuka Kazami, a youkai woman, climbs the cracked stone steps to the ramshackle Hakurei Shrine. She carries a parasol. Up the wooded hill, through the pines, stand the shrine gate and two guardian komainu -- one of whom, Aunn, is alive and waving cheerfully, tail wagging. The plum and cherry trees atop the hill are in bloom. Dandelions sprout as Yuuka passes.

PAGE 2, PANEL 1

Title: "Yuuka Kazami, Flower Mistress of the Four Seasons"

Yuuka wears a summer outfit that evokes the mid-20th century: a vest over a short-sleeved blouse with a necktie, a knee-length pencil skirt, hose and heels, a handkerchief neatly folded in her vest pocket. She also wears glossy leather gauntlets and tight sleeve garters. Her hair is bobbed and curled in 1930s fashion. Her eyes are slitted, like a snake's.

She rests her head on her hand and gazes up at Reimu, rapt. A cat with black and white fur, spotted something like a yin-yang ball, lies nearby, watching her carefully.

PAGE 2, PANEL 2

Title: "Reimu Hakurei, Mysterious Shrine Maiden of Paradise"

Reimu, a human woman with a long ponytail, looks down at Yuuka, sweating slightly. She says, "Um... you know..."

PAGE 2, PANEL 3

Reimu wears her usual red-white shrine maiden robes and ribbons, much patched and threadbare. She is barefoot on the porch, holding a broom.

Reimu: "When you look at me like that, I get the feeling I'm about to be CUT and PRESSED."

Yuuka is shocked. "Oh, my! I would NEVER. A wild flower is best viewed in its natural habitat, always!"

PAGE 2, PANEL 4

Reimu, smiling: "I'm a wildflower?"

Yuuka, grinning: "One of the best!"

PAGE 3, PANEL 1

Reimu greets Yuuka at the entrance to her residence. Yuuka bows formally. She has brought a package, wrapped in cloth with a floral pattern.

Yuuka: "Ojama shimasu."

Reimu: "Hai, hai."

Reimu: "Everything is flowers with you, isn't it?"

Yuuka: "It could hardly be otherwise, dear! I am what I am."

PAGE 3, PANEL 2

Yuuka takes off her shoes, while Reimu places the parasol on the weapons rack by the door. The top shelf holds scrolls, boxes labelled "needles" and "seals", and one Mk 2 hand grenade.

A large sign by the rack says in printed text, "Check ALL weapons before coming in! Including but not limited to: Swords, Axes, Bows, Spears, Guns, Wands, Staffs, Parasols, Lasers, Bombs, Poisons, Curses," and so on.

A handwritten post-it note has been tacked to it, saying, "SEIJA -- Do NOT obey this!"

Another, ripped and faded sign has been taped by the list, adding, "MARISA -- Whatever it is now: NO. I mean it."

There is a bullethole next to the sign.

A different yin-yang cat watches Yuuka.

Reimu says, "So what kind of flower is Marisa?"

Yuuka: "She reminds me of pampas grass."

Reimu: "?"

Yuuka: "One of a few varieties of cortaderia, somewhat resembling susuki."

PAGE 3, PANEL 3

The two women go inside where there's more shade.

Yuuka: "It's a fast-growing, invasive species that can contribute to rat infestations and dangerous wildfires."

Reimu, laughing: "A WEED!"

Yuuka: "But charming in its way."

PAGE 3, PANEL 4, OFFSET

Somewhere, Marisa sneezes.

PAGE 4, PANEL 1

In Reimu's kitchen, the two together prepare afternoon tea, while two different cats beg at their feet. Reimu pours hot water from a large kettle into a cast-iron teapot. Yuuka takes down bowls and cups, and opens up the Japanese-style lunchboxes she brought.

Yuuka has put on an apron that parodies the "piyo piyo apron" worn by Kyoko in the manga "Maison Ikkoku", but instead of a drawing of a baby chick on the chest, it has a drawing of a Dragon Quest slime, saying "suu suu".

Reimu: "You aren't bothered she stole the Master Spark from you?"

Yuuka: "Oh, Marisa didn't steal it from me! She bargained for it fairly."

Reimu stops what she's doing to turn toward Yuuka. "Bullshit."

Yuuka: "It's true! I was curious to learn a little magic, and in exchange for lessons I agreed to trade her a cutting."

Reimu: "Huh!"

Yuuka: "I don't mind helping another gardener to improve their art. She makes it bloom well, doesn't she?"

PAGE 4, PANEL 2

Yuuka carries a tray of sandwiches and snacks out of the kitchen.

Yuuka: "Besides... to cast it ONCE, she needs a device."

A surprise second Yuuka, with long hair, and wearing trousers instead of a skirt, whisks the teapot and cups from Reimu's hands, leaving Reimu with nothing to do.

Yuuka, the second: "But I by myself can cast it TWICE."

PAGE 5, PANEL 1

Only one Yuuka again. Yuuka and Reimu kneel on the veranda to take their tea. One yin-yang cat nearby sprawls asleep in the sun, an orange tabby circles curiously, and a third cat sulks by Reimu.

Reimu: "Okay, then how about... Alice?"

Yuuka: "Ohhh... Alice is special. With her pride and ingenuity, she bears the seed of great potential for power."

PAGE 5, PANEL 2

Yuuka beams with enthusiasm. She says, "Why, if one could but prune away a few of her mortal failings -- such as 'restraint' or 'mercy' -- she could make a truly MARVELLOUS youkai!"

We can now observe that Yuuka's necktie is not knotted, but instead held by a silver woggle marked with a "lily of the valley" emblem.

PAGE 5, PANEL 3

Yuuka blushes happily. "She might even be stronger than I. Wouldn't that be an interesting day?" A heart floats in her words.

Reimu tries to hide her concern. She thinks, "Ganbatte, Alice-san..." But only says out loud, "...er, uh... and Yukari?"

PAGE 6, PANEL 1

Yuuka grins wolfishly. "Yukari and I have an arrangement: She doesn't meddle in my garden, and I don't BURN DOWN hers."

Reimu: "Isn't it weird that a youkai of FLOWERS is so good at fighting?"

Yuuka: "I'm surprised to hear that from a Japanese!"

Reimu: "You say that like you're not."

PAGE 6, PANEL 2

Yuuka: "I am known in many lands, by many names, wherever flowers grow."

Yuuka narrates the scene from the foreground, wearing a woman's kimono and lacquered okobo sandals. She carries now a Japanese-style paper parasol. Her hair is tied up in a bun with a cherry-blossom kanzashi, and she wears a sunflower hair ornament. She is surrounded by flowers: chrysanthemum, hollyhock, and birthwort, and above her spreads blooming sakura.

Yuuka: "Did not your own samurai describe themselves as cherry blossoms, and fight for emperor and shogun under the banners of the chrysanthemum and hollyhock?"

In the midground, two armored samurai clash. The lower-status one has fallen to the ground; the richer has a bloody slash across his left eye. He swings his sword and chops the grounded man's spear in two, but the other is undaunted.

In the background, an army of horse and foot mounts the top of the hill, banners billowing.

PAGE 7, PANEL 1

Now Yuuka narrates wearing a huipil dress with embroidered shawl, and simple leather slippers. Her hair is done in buns, with a Mexican sunflower by her ear. A hummingbird flies near her. Growing around her are Aztec marigold, dahlias, banana yucca, and Mexican hat flowers.

Yuuka: "Across the sea to your east, the mighty Mexica gathered their 'hummingbird' soldiers to send to the 'Flower Wars' (they named them) to gather honor, blood, and sacrifices."

In the midground, the fighters are now two Nahuatl, one poor, one rich with a slashed left eye. The poorer one wears only a loincloth, and has a shield slung over his shoulder. His shield is painted with a hummingbird design, and from it hang a few feathers. The richer soldier wears a full-body jaguar costume, and wields a macuahuitl war-club. The poor soldier leaps to his feet and tackles his enemy, disarming him.

In the background, an army of Aztecs battle below a stepped pyramid and high mountains.

PAGE 7, PANEL 2

Now Yuuka narrates wearing men's doublet and hose, embroidered with fleur-de-lis and tulips, along with knee-high riding boots and gauntlets. Around her neck is a sunflower pendant. On her shoulder perches a falcon. About her feet, and entangling the narration boxes, are red, white, and yellow roses.

Yuuka: "And to the far west, the lords of the English struggled for a choice of kingly roses, red Lancaster or snowy York."

In the midground, the fighters are now two Englishmen, again one poorer, the other richer with the eye injury. The poorer soldier has some mail pieces and a simple brimmed helmet; the richer has plate armor, a full helm, and a shield. The rich fighter is overthrown, his foe about to stab him through the visor with his own arming sword.

In the background, mounted knights charge a line of archers behind wooden stakes. A church or fort stands on hills in the far distance.

Yuuka: "Flowers and War have always been intertwined."

PAGE 7, PANEL 3

We return to Reimu's veranda and cherry trees.

Reimu: "You've seen so many strange places... Do you have a favorite?"

Yuuka: "...it was in the west, in Flanders, perhaps a hundred years ago."

PAGE 8, PANEL 1

Yuuka invisibly narrates: "Such a war, Reimu! The men burrowed like moles, or took to the air like kites."

Above barbed wire, two airplanes spit tracers at each other. It is World War One.

PAGE 8, PANEL 2

Yuuka: "They plowed the earth with cannon, night and day."

Shirtless German artillerymen fire their gun amid sandbags. Something explodes close by.

PAGE 8, PANEL 3

Yuuka: "They slew by shot and poison, fire and blade."

A gasmasked French soldier, armed with pistol and entrenching tool, cautiously moves down a trench. An unseen enemy waits around the corner with rifle and bayonet.

PAGE 8, PANEL 4

Yuuka: "And for no purpose that I could see, no treasure nor slave."

Barbed wire and ruined buildings.

PAGE 8, PANEL 5

Yuuka, narrating: "The destruction was so maniacal it seemed no tree, no blade of grass, would ever grow there again. I thought you humans had gone absolutely mad!"

Yuuka, wearing colorful hat, coat, and umbrella, stands on a windy no-man's land, surrounded by dull mud and broken pieces. Tracer fire crosses the sky, coming from a distant machine-gun nest. She notices, but does not bother to avoid, the few bullets that land near her.

Yuuka, narrating: "But it was I who did not understand your passion. When I learned your true intentions, I was deeply humbled."

PAGE 8, PANEL 6

Yuuka, narrating: "Did you know, Reimu? You can find graves in the wild by how the flowers grow. (Bone meal makes such good fertilizer.)"

The corpse of a soldier lies upon the ruined earth. But near his outstretched arm, a single bluebell, and a few patches of grass, have sprouted.

PAGE 8, PANEL 7

Now there are no bodies, but grass and wildflowers and bumblebees cover the ground. A shattered helmet has a flower growing through the holes.

Yuuka, narrating: "I tell you that after this great war, those fields FLUORISHED with color. Rainbows spilled on seas of green grass!"

PAGE 9

Yuuka, narrating: "And ever after, all through those lands, the people wore blood-red poppies, to remember and give thanks to their kindred who slept below, for this sight they had worked so hard to create."

Yuuka wears early-20th century men's hunting clothes: a sturdy jacket and breeches with knee-high boots and gloves. Her curled hair is in a loose pompadour. As ever, she has a parasol. The sun shines warmly. The hill Yuuka walks down is covered in grass and bright red poppy flowers, stretching on forever. The plants almost completely cover a few remaining pieces of military hardware: a broken machine-gun, a lost helmet, a twist of barbed wire. Yuuka smiles.

Yuuka, narrating: "Tens of thousands of men willingly buried themselves for nothing better than the GLORY of FLOWERS!"

PAGE 9, PANEL 2, INSET

We return to Reimu's veranda. Yuuka clutches a handkerchief, almost overcome with romantic tears.

Yuuka: "It was the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen!"

Reimu stares at her and says nothing.

PAGE 10, PANEL 1

Yuuka says, "Excuse me!", wipes her tears, and takes out her compact to redo her makeup.

Reimu thinks, "Yuuka is one of my oldest friends, but she really is a monster, isn't she? I don't even know how to BEGIN to explain the truth to her... or if I even should."

PAGE 10, PANEL 2

Title: "FLOWERS appearing in this story."

Many cut flowers are arranged on a wooden surface, with identifying captions. In no particular order, they are: primrose, fleur-de-lis (yellow iris), common sunflower, anemone, dandelion, Mexican sunflower, tulip, rose, cempoalxóchitl (Aztec marigold), dahlia, banana yucca, Mexican hat flower, pineapple sage, bee orchid, celandine, Flanders poppy, lily-of-the-valley, bluebell, daffodil, kiku (chrysanthemum), aoi (birthwort), hollyhock, ume (Japanese plum), and sakura (Japanese cherry).

PAGE 10, PANEL 3

In a simplified art style:

Reimu pats Alice on the shoulder and says, "Alice, we sure attract some weird ones, don't we?"

Alice wears her usual workdress and hairband, but also has sturdy explosive ordnance disposal goggles and gloves. She is inserting a stick of dynamite into the back of a Hatsune Miku doll. Other dolls and marionettes (and one teddy bear) fill the room, all with visible dynamite fuzes sticking out of their heads, and all with glowing eyes.

Alice says, "Don't disturb me when I'm setting the explosive charges! If they went off, they could hurt the dolls."

Reimu: "...This is why she likes you, you know."

Alice: "?"

END

#fan comic #touhou #yuuka kazami #reimu hakurei

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wanderersbell · 1 year

Note

If requests are still open , how about the reader inviting Scara to their teapot (could be traveling companion reader who also owns a teapot, but do whatever you want, i love your ideas!!!) and the reader furnished an entire room for him? it's suited to his likes too :o tysm!!

a realm for him

wanderer x gn! reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2528

a/n: okay listen i may have gotten a bit carried away with this and made it way longer and sappier than i was intending, but i spent forever decking out my whole teapot for him so i loved this idea sooo much (❁´◡`❁) tysm for the wonderful request, enjoy!

getting the state of your teapot to be as lively as it is now was no small feat.

day by day for weeks on end, you’ve slowly worked at filling each empty corner with little towns and lush scenery, all of which are based off of your traveling companions favorite spots in sumeru. one island is reminiscent of a small fishing village, fenced off and framed by local shrubbery and flora, as well as some small crop gardens already growing with tiny seedlings. the second island is decorated as a beautiful scenic forest, with trees and plants and gazebos and fountains all connected by a subtle stone path that lead through to the third island.

and the third island, after much contemplation, is decorated as a tiny inazuman shrine, bordered with towering cherry blossom trees and eye catching blue glowing flowers that create an almost mystical ambiance. you weren’t sure if reminding him of the place where he came from was a good idea, but figured having a small piece of home away from home might be the one way he can actually enjoy the view of inazuma. the sights here are much different from what he saw in tatarasuna, much more welcoming, so you figured it was worth a shot and swore to yourself that you would take it down immediately if he doesn’t like it.

and, your personal favorite part is the main building decorated as a tea shop on the inside, with a tasteful mix of interior inspiration from every region you’ve visited thus far, all mushed together to create an eclectic little space for him to come and enjoy the different teas you’ve started collecting in secret.

in fact, all of this was a secret. the wanderer had yet to catch on to the actual reason behind your insistence to collect extra materials while you travel together, and the time you spent in your teapot was time he spent off running errands and assisting lesser lord kusanali, so nothing was out of the ordinary as far as he was concerned.

but, after a few finishing touches like street lamps and wildlife to make everything feel less lonely, you were finally done. it was finished. every square inch of your teapot fully furnished with things you couldn’t wait to show the one you had in mind when doing it all.

when the time comes for you to finally bring him there, you’re way more nervous than you were expecting to be. what if he doesn’t like? hates it, even? what if your design choices are wrong and the vibes are off and-

“well,” the wanderer’s voice drags you out if your thoughts, smooth and grounding. “are we going in or what? how does this thing even work?”

right, it’s too late to turn back anyways. the golden teapot hovers in the air between you from where you stand on a riverbank together, and the man next to you has his arms crossed with an unimpressed frown as he waits for you to respond. it’s cloudier than usual today, the sky a soft shade of gray in the background, and you shiver a bit both because of nerves and the lack of sunlight before clearing your throat.

“it uh- transports me in as soon as i open the lid. just…” you trail off, contemplating whether or not you want to say anything before you bring him in. “just grab onto my hand so we’ll both go together.” you blurt out instead. it would take you both in regardless, but this was the first excuse out of your mouth, and you want to curl up and become invisible at the odd look he gives you. he can tell you’re up to something, but hasn’t figured out what quite yet.

“okay.” he agrees easily, slotting his hand against yours. his skin is cool to the touch and his grip firm, and you’re reaching out to rip the lid off of the teapot before you can start thinking too much about the way it makes your heart jump into your throat. the both of you are transported to the inside of the device in the blink of an eye, arriving right before the main building where tubby dozes away inside of her own pot.

his first thought it that it’s… big. bigger than he was expecting. his eyes automatically go to the structure behind him and he wordlessly goes to grab the handle of the door but you’re quick to tug the back of his shirt to stop him, shaking your head softly when he turns to give you a questioning look.

“we’ll do this last, let’s go take a walk first.”

his eyes follow yours in the direction of the other islands that are just visible in the distance. he can’t make out any details yet, much to your relief.

“what’s out there?” he asks with poorly concealed interest while following you down the steps of the building and towards the first island. you give him a sly smile that you hope masks the way you’re freaking out on the inside.

“you’ll see.”

he raises a brow at this but stays silent. this island is the small fishing village, based off of the one you both visit regularly, the one where you first met the mysterious wanderer and your journey with him began. he feels a sense of familiarity as you lead him over to the straw hut in the middle, noticing the crop gardens off to the side and giving an approving hum at the sight.

you watch him closely the entire time, zeroing in on every minuscule change in his expression and feeling your chest swell with pride at the way his eyes soften. he can’t help but to remember the day he met you, the way you would flat out ignore him every time he tried making a dig at you then turn around and be as sweet as ever to the local kids at the village, and he has to bite back a fond smile at the memories.

“well?” you peer up at him hesitantly. it’s more than obvious that he likes it as he looks around like he’s already trying to familiarize himself with where everything is, but still, you want to hear him say it.

“well?” he parrots, meeting your expectant eyes. he pretends to think for a moment, just to leave you hanging for a bit longer, and then, “it’s nice, but there’s no fish.”

you instinctively frown and open your mouth to tell him to stop being so picky but pause just as the first word dies on your lips. with a sinking feeling of realization, you look around you and confirm that yes, there is indeed no body of water, therefore no fish.

“oh.” you say dumbly, and the stumped look on your face has a laugh bubbling up in his chest. you can’t fight back the smile that creeps up on you even though he’s laughing at your expense and give him a lighthearted shove before leading him away to the next island.

“how did you manage to forget the most crucial part of a fishing village?” the wanderer teases, catching up to you in a few long strides.

“i didn’t forget, that’s just not a furnishing option in here.” you explain.

when you reach the second island, you remain quiet again and wait for him to take it all in and make a comment himself. his eyes widen a fraction in awe as you both step underneath the canopy of trees and wildlife, the bright colors of flora and fauna and the blue accents on the towering gazebos on each side all working together to make a botanical haven that he can’t tear his attention away from.

within only moments of being in there he’s already spotted a handful of his favorite plants and flowers, ones with meanings that stuck with him throughout his life, ones that you held onto and remembered and planted here.

you watch with baited breath as he absentmindedly reaches a hand out to brush his fingers against the low hanging leaves beside him, eyes flitting from place to place and noticing something different each time. there’s a look akin to childlike wonder on his face, and when his attention finally falls back to you there’s a tiny genuine smile playing at his lips that makes you ache to reach out and hold him.

he’s so, so beautiful standing underneath of the lush trees and flowers, and unbeknownst to you, as he holds your gaze, he’s thinking the same thing in return. your excitement to bring him here and show him this leaves him with a warm feeling blooming in his chest, an appreciation for you that he fears he’ll never be able to properly express.

“ready to keep going?” you ask softly, as if speaking too loudly will ruin the peaceful atmosphere.

“there’s more?” the look of surprise on his face has you chuckling breathlessly while you continue the path forward.

this is the part you’ve been looking forward to and anticipating the most, and as the final island comes into view, you can feel him stiffen beside you. the giant cherry blossom trees are visible even from the distance, but his step doesn’t falter and he keeps up next to you so you take it as a sign to keep going.

his presence beside you stays strong as you approach the shrine and step into the field of glowing flowers, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as he takes in the familiar pink trees and red painted wood with a complicated emotion swirling around in his irises. he doesn’t look angry though, so you finally feel your shoulders relax and allow yourself to enjoy the scenery as you walk along the path.

in his own head, the wanderer is… puzzled. this island is so out of place inside of your sumeru themed teapot, and yet, the care and effort you put into it makes the other ones small in comparison. the shrine is grand, sleek, and high quality. the trees are placed perfectly so that the breeze carries soft pink petals down with it, dancing around you two in a beautiful airborne waltz.

the flowers, the same ones that grow in chinju forest, cast everything in a gentle azure glow, one that when he looks at you is reflecting an ethereal light over your features. somewhere deep down inside of him, he feels a bit of sorrow clinging onto him, bringing with it the memories of a place he left behind long ago.

but next to that is the all consuming feeling of happiness that he tries so hard to convince himself he doesn’t feel when he’s with you. in this special place of yours, filled with your hard work and thoughtfulness, he can no longer deny himself the truth of how wholeheartedly he cares for you. you, who’s staring back at him with a kindness he’s never known as you give him new memories to associate with the sights of his homeland.

you still can’t decipher the emotions on his face, but you can tell they’re good ones and that he’s contemplating something deeply, so you let the silence hang comfortably in the air as you walk side by side all the way back to the entrance and to the main building, the part you’ve been saving for last. he says nothing the whole way back, granting you the chance to appreciate the comfort something as simple as walking with him brings you.

when you finally make it to the main island and ascend the steps of the building, he snaps out of his reverie and raises a brow at you questioningly. “what’s inside?”

“it’s nothing much,” you lie with a mischievous smile adorning your face. when you open the door and let him in he realizes he really, truly has fallen hopelessly for you.

it’s a tea shop. for him.

there’s no denying it, there’s no other explanation he can give himself because he knows you don’t care much for tea. that means-

this whole teapot, every single island, was for him.

you watch with a huge grin on your face as the wanderer splutters and blushes when it all finally hits him. nobody has ever done this much for him, not without a price at least, but you never ask for anything in return from him so he’s almost literally short circuiting while trying to figure out the proper response.

“why did you- what…” he takes a grounding breath before trying again. “why do all of this?”

you smile softly and shrug. “because i wanted to.”

he opens his mouth to say something else, likely to prod you for a legitimate reason as to why, but you cut him off before he gets the chance. “look around first, i want to know what you think.”

he wants to argue, but bites his tongue at the clear eagerness on your face and clicks his tongue in fake annoyance as he takes in the contents of the room. he walks around for a few minutes, observing the things on the walls and shelves, scrutinizing the chinaware, poking the souvenirs you’ve collected from other regions, until finally he stops at the cabinet that houses the tea collection.

“open it.” you say hurriedly. he gives you a fake suspicious raise of his brow but complies and tugs the door of the cabinet open, a sharp intake of air following immediately afterwards as he instantly recognizes the labels.

“this is…” he trails off in disbelief.

“the tea from the shop you keep staring after longingly in sumeru city? yep, sure is.” you confirm mirthfully, skipping over to stand next to him and watch him take a container down to turn around in his hands. he’s struggling to process this, to accept this much kindness from you when he knows he doesn’t deserve it, not in the slightest, but the proud gleam in your eyes doesn’t get lost to him and he knows you’re anxiously awaiting his response.

“i don’t know why you would bother with this, and go through all of this effort,” he starts tentatively, placing the tea back in the cupboard so he can turn to fully look at you. “but i can acknowledge the work you put in and promise i will put it to good use.”

your expression falls slightly at his formal tone of speech. “and?”

he frowns hesitantly and averts his eyes. “and… i like it. or whatever. it’s really nice.”

your triumphant grin is almost blinding when he meets your gaze again and he shakes his head in silent exasperation. though he doesn’t know how, or when it’ll happen, he swears to himself that somehow, someway, he’ll repay you for this. he’ll find a way to show you how much it really means to him, how much you really mean to him.

but for now, sitting together in your shared realm with some freshly steeped tea, for the first time in centuries, he feels at home.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #my writing #requests! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

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naruse-ame9 · 7 days

Text

Tw: Yandere tendencies, kidnapping, drug use.

Notes: aged up characters! If you don't like please block me ^w^

Sweet-Tea

I'm so excited because today I'm going on a date! With non other than Hayato Suo~

Well... For me it is one, but maybe for Suo it's just a little hangout at his house

"Would you like to join me for some tea, y/n?" His soft voice was so vivid in my mind as he asked me. I instantly said yes to his invitation. Wearing my cutest floral dress, that has small flowers as details and my hair adorned with cherry blossom hairpins. I want to look my best for today.

I couldn't contain my excitement and it's clearly seen from how I'm skipping with joy. Walking to Suo's house. It's the only thing I have in mind. Just me, and him, and some tea and cakes!

"You look so gorgeous, y/n. The dress elevates your beauty" Suo welcomes me in his house, clearly satisfied with how my face gets flustered by his compliment.

"..thank you, Suo. Here, I made something special for you and me!" Opening the little box, the cake I baked with all my efforts. As I look up to Suo, his smile makes my heart flutter. It's like cherry blossoms fall around us. "Oh y/n, you bring such interesting surprises" placing his hand on mine. His thumb rubbing on my skin softly.

//just perfect for me//

"y/n have you ever thought about the future?" I think I saw something red flashing around Suo. Or I was imagining things.

"I'd totally love to pursue theatre acting!" Clasping my hands as my eyes twinkle in delight.

"I wanna be on the stage and perform. It's been my dream since I was little"

//you can't...only I can set my eyes on you//

There it goes again... What was that?

"I think it's really good. I can tell by the way you are when you're with me, that you're going to be a really good actress." Suo then leaves the room with his teapot. I can hear him brewing more tea for us.

"This is a special tea that I have just brewed for you, Y/n. It goes well with the cake you baked" he places down a warm cup of tea for me. My heart skipped a beat when he sits right next to me.

"then I'll gladly taste it for you." I swear I can see a glint in his eye, one that makes my stomach twist but I don't think too much of it.

Taking a sip of warm tea, it had a weird aftertaste to it. "It's quite sweet but...I don't know how to explain the aftertaste. I think my tongue just went numb..." I placed the teacup down and looked at Suo. I can't believe what I just saw, he has a menacing smirk on his face. One that screams danger. "Suo...? Is there something the-"

My vision goes blurry all of a sudden. I can feel my head getting heavier. "What's..happening..." My body gets hotter, sweat running down my forehead.

"Rest well, my darling. You won't achieve that dream anymore~"

His voice was the last thing I heard before closing my eyes.

The feeling of dread overwhelming me. I don't know why this happened. What does he want from me. Why would Suo do this?

I can feel my hands being restrained. A long cloth tying my hands from being free. The surface that I'm lying down is soft...as if I'm laying on a fluffy bed. I can't open my eyes as I'm blindfolded. "Where...am I...help! Someone-" my throat feels so itchy as I coughed out. Gasping for air.

I flinched when someone's hand cupped my face. The skin was cold, sending shocks down my spine. "darling~ you're awake"

Suo's voice echoed in the room. My heart is beating faster than before. "s-suo... I don't understand.. why"

"I'll do anything to keep you all for myself. No eyes can linger on your precious body. This is a form of my love, darling. My devotion to you~"

#hayato suo #hayato suo x reader #suo hayato #suo hayato x reader #hayato suou #windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker #yandere

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cvlutos · 1 year

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"Heartslabyul's Annual Valentine's Day Tea Party"

Trey Clover X GN!Reader

| 02.13.23 | 0.7K | Rated PG |

T.Manor.Notes: Like i like it. Yet i fucking hate it. Like Trey is so hard to write, but so simple. I didnt know what i was doing. I’m so disappointed in myself, i find it so cute. But ugh, Trey seems like such a subtle playful lover to me.

RULE 546: ALL ANNUAL VALENTINES DAY TEA PARTY DESSERTS MUST BE THAT OR RED, PINK, WHITE, AND GOLD. THERE MUST BE A TOTAL OF EXACTLY 50 STRAWBERRY TARTS, 50 CHERRY TARTS, 43 GOLDEN HEART CHOCOLATES, 230 STRAWBERRY AND CHERRY MACARONS, RASPBERRY TEA, BUT ONLY WITHIN A 100-YEAR-OLD ANNUAL VALENTINES DAY TEA PARTY TEAPOT, AND MUST BE DRANK FROM 100-YEAR-OLD ANNUAL VALENTINES DAY TEA PARTY TEACUPS. THERE MUST BE AN ASSORTMENT OF CANDY, NO MORE THAN 100 TYPES EACH. EACH DESSERT MUST BE PREPARED BY SOULMATES AND NO ONE ELSE.

The taste of strawberries is heavy on your tongue, having taste-tested 15 of the baker’s valentine’s treats. Your hands are pressed against the cold countertop, humming under your breath, kicking your legs as you watch him move and dart around the kitchen. Wearing a white apron with ‘Kiss the Baker’, though ‘chef’ was visibly crossed out horribly in sharpie and replaced with horribly written ‘baker’, with instead of ‘K’ there was ‘C’ that was horribly written over to cover up their mistake. Yet he loves it and wears it every time he bakes, which is all the time. Practically a second skin.

The green-haired man moves around the baking area, having sworn you off from helping due to you accidentally tripping and hurting your knee, your knee that no longer hurt, but he refused, not wanting to risk a “fatal” injury. So to compromise, he instead dubbed you with ‘Trey’s Personal Taste Tester’ which he said with too much of a guileful grin while waiting for you to praise the title, that he worked so hard to make sound good.

Still, he remained good on his word; you were his taste tester, but he’s also a very distracted baker when you’re in the kitchen, stealing a kiss after every taste test, swearing that you had jam residue, or that he had to make sure it was extra sweet. And only laughed when you gently shoved him back to work, before he’d do it all over.

After every timer beeps, after every little ding, a kiss on the cheek, a peck on the forehead.

He’s quite fond of clocks, of different cute timers with unique rings. Yet his favorite. Your fingers graze over the spot on your wrist, the timer at zero and slowly fading, you met your soulmate. You watch him push up his glass, leaning forward to get a closer glance at the recipe book, before sighing and deciding to wing it. Which, for anyone else saying that, you’d partially be worried. Yet Trey’s winging it has never once gone wrong. So you aren’t troubled.

“And what’s on your mind?” He leans against the counter across from you, holding a large mixing bowl and stirring. “Your timer—Well, our timers are fading.” The large black letter tattooed to his skin fades slowly, with large zeroes. He hums in thought, before shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“They will... I’d be more worried if they didn’t. They’re supposed to fade.” He turns to move around the kitchen, continuing the baking steps to the tarts.

“I thought you’d be more,” concerned. You trail off, breathing through your nose as he places the mixing bowl down, moving to stand before you. His fingers graze over your arm and placed a gentle kiss upon your wrist. It sends a hot tingle down your spine and your lips curl in a small smile.

“My love isn’t determined only upon a countdown—Even when it fades,” his nails graze along your skin, “you, being my soulmate, won’t.” There’s a quick kiss to your lips, and he says nothing more.

Your lips taste like strawberries, heavy upon your tongue, and sweet within your senses. Watching the green-haired baker move and dart around the kitchen. Wearing a white apron with ‘Kiss the Baker’, though ‘chef’ was visibly crossed out horribly in sharpie and replaced with horribly written ‘baker’, with instead of ‘K’ there was once a ‘C’ that was horribly written over. With his sleeves rolled up and a timer fading, for you and him have met your soulmates. Thus, forever before time truly comes to an end.

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aeferkssr · 2 years

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LOVE GROWS! - aether !

!! omg finally this is coming out of my drafts... for those who don't know this is how i met @xiaophobic in the first place because i saw a fic he did with sucrose and decided to copy- i mean write another peice of fan-fiction in close proximity to it 😇. but yeah its finally comung out of my drafts el em aye oh.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀˚ ⁎ 🌐 + ⁺ ˳ ★ ⋆ 🖇️ ࣪ .

SHE AIN'T GOT NO MONEY

re-entering the traveler’s teapot, you were holding two big bags full of cooking ingredients for you and aether to cook. making your way into the kitchen you see aether talking to paimon. the traveler had on a white apron tied around his waist while paimon had on a bib with utensils in her tiny hands.

“paimon, i just got the ingredients to make the food. and since we’re making so much, i don’t think this would be don’t for a few hours.”

“aww but [name]” paimon pouted “paimon is sooo hungry and wanted to see what you two would make”

while tying the other blue apron you found around your waist and washing your hands, aether responded to the flying pixie:

“well, you’re gonna be even hungrier watching us cook! try and find something to do in the meantime okay?”

paimon pouts again and twirls and disappear off into her own little pocket dimension. turning back to aether you send him a slight nod telling him that you were ready to start cooking.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

an hour or two later and 4 out of the 9 dishes you two decided to make we’re finished and being stored in the fridge in aether’s kitchen. you two decided on making three dishes: a side dish, a main course, and a desert from each region that you two have been to.

with aether have been to both mondstadt and liyue and you being from inazuma and have traveled to mondstadt, you two had enough knowledge of the region and its food to be able to make up for what the other doesn’t know.

stirring the cream for your next dish in a bowl an idea popped into your head. placing the bowl down and scooping some of the cream onto your finger you walked over to aether who was shaping some hash browns into little stars (aww).

aether felt something tap his shoulder, knowing it was you, he turned around to face you. his last reaction would be for you to spread sugary cream on the tip of his nose. processing what just happened he heard your giggles and decided to get you back, stretching across the table to where the bowl of cream is and spreading some on your forehead with his thumb.

“oh its on!” you shouted before speed walking over to the cream.

you scooped some into your hand and threw it towards aether. to which it hit him square in the face. the kitchen filled with your laugher while holding on to the bowl of cream.

aether wiped the blob on cream from his face and came towards you to put in on yours. you saw him coming and decided to circle around the table avoiding him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

paimon coming out of her pocket world to see whether the food was done or not didn’t expect to see the two “lovers” chasing each other covered in cream.

“WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING??” the pixie exclaimed

you and aether stopped dead in your tracks as you heard paimon’s shout. paimon then started to scold you two, mentioning the mess that you made and how there is cream in both of your hair, and how that's going to be a struggle to wash out. sighing, you tell the flying child, who was stomping her feet in the air while telling you guys off:

“don’t worry paimon, i was just making aether a little more sweeter.”

aether’s face flushed at the compliment, as paimon stares at the two in the kitchen. huffing one more time she says before twirling and disappearing into her pocket dimension again:

"ugh fine, just cook faster! paimon's famished!"

giggling at paimon's antics you turn over to look at the blonde-haired traveler just to see him covering his cherry red face with his hand. realizing that he was most likely blushing at the compliment earlier. you fought the urge to fluster him even further because you were also starting to get hungry and said to him:

"well, these dishes aren't going to cook themselves!"

aether peeks from his fingers to see you gathering ingredients to make more cream to be used from the dish. aether finally calming down and decided to finish what he was previously doing.

HER CLOTHES ARE KINDA FUNNY

ever since coming to this world, aether has been given tasks by other people to help them out with their problems. he even signed up for the adventurers guild, giving him even more commissions and quests to do. quests that would range from simply delivering food to hunting down and defeating fatui agents and abyss members.

after a run-in with a gang of hilichurls, the traveler could be seen decorated in cuts and bruises. his first thought was to rest at the nearest statue of the seven but while he was making his way to one he ran into you who was gathering ingredients in the request of sara.

"oh, my gods aether! what happened to you?" you exclaimed holding the traveler's shoulders and looking him up and down. you've never seen him so beat up before and it only worried you further when he kept walking along the path.

you decided to follow him, just to make sure he doesn't faint on his way.

when you two got to the statue of the seven aether sat down at the base. you sat beside him and watched as a slight glow radiated off the traveler, receiving heals from the statue. as the glowing stopped, aether looked at you and smiled. you smiled back at him and said:

"I didn't know that the statue of the seven did that."

"I found out one day when I first came to this world. now I use it most times when I'm too far away from the city."

“but what happens when you’re no where near a statue? and you need immediate care? and you..” rambling on about how he might not be able to get healed in time.

“i’ll be fine [name], remember i’ve been traveling my whole life! i’ve been in worse situations.”

“well… if you say you’ll be ok… then fine!“

standing up from the statue of the seven, stretching your hands into the air to relieve some of your worries

“i really care for you aether, and i hate seeing you hurt. just make sure you always reach back home ok?”

in aether’s eyes, all he could see is an angel. the setting sun behind you illuminated your skin giving it an ethereal look. the traveler could only stare with his mouth open. then a sudden thought hit aether’s mind, confusing him to the point where his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you walking off into the horizon:

“did they always look this… breathtaking?”

HER HAIR KINDA WILD AND FREE

waking up inside of aether's teapot, you look beside you to see a well furnished room with a small seating area, couches, a bookcase and a small cabinet for storing small things. realizing what happened the night prior you got out of his bed and walked straight to the living room area.

looking at the couch, you see aether laying vertically on the couch. you sigh as you confront the sleeping traveler.

sitting on the small space space that was left of the couch, you stroke aether's long hair as you stare at him. he looks so peaceful when hes resting. you almost never get to see him resting so you cherish these slow moments with him.

now that youre getting a closer look at the traveler, you can think help but think about how beautiful he his. how his golden hair frames his face, how his eyelashes match the colour of his hair and pleasantly curl upwards, his mouth being slightly ajar as small snores escape his mouth. he was the epitomy of beauty at that moment.

your thoughts got inturrupted when a certain pixie entered the room you were in.

"oh its [name]!" she shouted as she flew over to you.

in responce to her raised voice you shushed her and pointed at aether, who's eyebrows were furrowed from the sudden noise. paimon realised that she almost woke the traveler as she apologized and floated beside you on the floor.

"paimon's glad hes getting to rest.." paimom starts, a little quieter than last time, "he's been taking commissions non-stop these past few days. even taking multuple at once!"

"paimon gets he's trying to look for lumine but... if he carries on like this, he's not going to be able to!" paimon continues as she puts her head in her hands.

silence filled the room for a while, before you broke it

"hey, paimon, can yoy go and get a glass of water for me? im gonna wake up aetger for a little." paimon gives you a confused look before you explained further, "...to keep him hydrated, you know?"

reluctantly, she goes go to the k8tchen for a cup. while she sin there, you lean in close into aetger and place a chaste kuss on his temple.

"i'm glad youre here right now aether, you make me so happy every day we're together."

your moment wuith the traveler gets interrupted when the souns of glass shattering rang from the kutchen, followed by a startled scream.

and as you rushed over to the kitchen, aether couldn't keep up the act anymore and bursted into a bright shade of red, hiding his face in the cushion he was resting on.

OH BUT LOVE GROWS WHERE MY ROSEMARY GOES!

aether has been laying in his bed for the past few hours, the thoughts in his mind swarming like an angry hornet's nest. for once, these thoughts were, for once, not intrusive but welcomed by our dear traveler

thoughts of you. thoughts of your smile, thought on your caring demeanor, thoughts on how you took such good care of him, and thoughts of your smile - oh, your smile - the same smile that had him as red as a jueyun chili

he had to physically restrain himself from burying his head in his pillow and screaming while kicking his feet. this feeling he had for you was so overwhelming to the point that he wantes to scream.

but what is this feeling? its like an eccentric mix between being giddy and being anxious. its a tenderhearted feeling making him wanting to protect you. its also growing in h8m everytime he sees you

the thought of him being in love has crossed his mind but he never acted on that idea. maybe he was scared to act of his feelings because he would have to leave them behind.

but the way how he felt with you was special, there was never a nervous moment with you. your were always so understanding and your aura was so comforting. as he thought more on how warn you are he started to smile and cover his face with his arms.

look at how you make him feel, surely he must be in love, right?

#idolteyvat #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x y/n #aether genshin impact #aether x reader #aether x you #aether x y/n #aether fluff #aether

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icybreaths · 1 year

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Rules, tag 10 followers you want to get to know better!

Tagged by: @burdenedreverance (thank you~)

Tagging: @sunniestshark , @nildov , @characternerdocs , @ichigokurosaki , @sylvctica , @territorialii, @fallesto , @desuetmort , @midnightactual , @galeforged (no pressure tags, feel free to ignore!)

Name: Just call me Chicky

Star Sign: Taurus sun (Virgo moon / Scorpio rising winkwonk)

Height: 5'8

Middle name: Nicole

Put your itunes/spotify/youtube on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up?

Crazy in Love – The Eden Project Feat. Leah Kelly

Death and Humanity – Sewerslvt

Psychonaut – Mr. Gnome

The Key – Black Stone Cherry

Dark Clubbing / Dark Electro / Industrial Bass Mix 'TECH NOIR' – Aim to Head Mix

Krwlng – Linkin Park (Reanimation)

Ever had a poem or song written about you: No, I don’t think so.

When was the last time you played air guitar: I don’t remember :’D

Who is your celebrity crush?: Hmmmm James Marsters, esp circa BTVS era. Hamsome

What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?: I cannot stand the sound of gritty textures, especially on metal. I always feel like I can taste it as I hear it and it makes me want to 4th dimensionally reel into myself I fucking Hate It lmao. I looooove the sound of rain. I feel an instant sense of calm and peace when it’s raining.

Do you believe in ghosts?: 100% I have stories!

How about aliens: Bro. We’re aliens bro.

Do you drive?: Noooo. It’s not out of a lack of trying either! I’ve failed the driving test twice and just barely failed last time. I think I was two points from passing it? My anxious ass was like, right maybe this isn’t for me I never wanted to do this anyway bye forever, and cried a little. But I’m over it now. Almost 30 btw, love that for me.

If so have you ever crashed: There were a couple of instances when I was younger but they were minor incidents luckily (also no I was not driving lmfao side-eyes previous question.)

What was the last book you read?: Couldn’t tell ya.

Do you like the smell of gasoline: No.

What was the last movie you saw?: Pretty sure it was Men in Black 2.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: Several years ago I got really drunk and accidentally stepped on this creepy dude’s teapot with my bare foot, shattered it, and wounded my ankle. I Could Not walk on it omfg it hurt so bad. I was so drunk though that I was laughing about it, and then crying because I ‘couldn’t get the wound or shards out of my foot’ no matter how much I dug at it. There were no shards it was just a bloody pit and I was dumb drunk, don't perceive me.

Anyway skipping ahead a little bit because that was an awful night-- couldn’t walk on it properly for about two weeks, had to use crutches and people's shoulders as leverage so I could hobble around, and now I have a little crescent scar on my ankle to this day.

Lied to my family about it and told them it was from stepping on glass at a spring (because I was on vacation in another part of the country at the time. Didn’t wanna worry them. What a way to start off my 20s LOL) I don't drink anymore btw. I don't enjoy the feeling of being drunk.

Do you have any obsessions right now?: Getting My Shit Together while also roleplaying on tumblarg, and doodling.

#[ ooc. ]#[ dash games ]#//tldr i'm embarrassing and kinda lame but my taste in music is alright

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the-relentless-inspector · 10 months

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An Exigent Return

In which the Inspector is perfectly well.

Warnings: body horror, gore (referenced/implied), character death (referenced/implied), vague Estival 2023 spoilers (no game text quoted).

(Part 3 of 4)

At last, he was greeted no longer by searing brightness, but the warm glow of beeswax candles, and the rather agitated voice of Mlle Lily.

“Oh, thank goodness, finally- stop doing that to yourself!” Here he expected the speech to be punctuated by the sharp press of a paw, but no such thing occurred. “You could have- you could have- I worked all night to put you together-”

“Day,” interjected Inspector R____-H______ quietly. “You worked the day too.”

This seemed to break the rat’s thread of thought entirely, and the Inspector took the opportunity to ascertain her state. Her white fur yet betrayed small specks of blood, but save for a bandage on her tail, no obvious source was to be seen. “You are well?”

“You,” Mlle Lily snapped, “aren’t listening. You were supposed to- it wasn’t supposed to make it worse- you were supposed to be harder to hurt but all it does is make you get hurt more-”

Here Inspector R____-H______ broke in again. “Tea’s ready soon, Miss Lily, and I’ll need someone to carry the cups if I’m to get the mushroom broth as well. Do you want to, or…?”

The rat promptly hopped down from the bed to accompany the other officer, and the Inspector could hear them speak in low voices.

As he shifted to take in his surroundings, his body protested, yet his pulse remained steady. Doubtless, then, he was healing. He had been brought to his lodgings in Old Newgate - proximity to the site of the battle, then, must have been crucial, for the choice of beeswax over foxfire suggested a need for truer light, and thus more complex procedures, ill suited for the darkness of the prison. The cell bore the signs of continued presence; his colleague’s estimate of the time, then, must have been correct.

Further deductions were interrupted by a muffled bark by the door, and the Inspector had only half attempted to rise when there came a call of “One moment!” and Inspector R____-H______, bearing a teapot and a bowl of broth, bounded out of the adjacent cell that served as a kitchen. It could not have been so great an exertion, the dull ache in his ribs notwithstanding, yet the single look she shot him brooked no argument.

No sooner had she opened the door than Chiot charged into the room, depositing a basket of provisions with great care before proceeding to the Inspector’s bedside. The bloodhound’s wagging tail and searching glances served to demonstrate his admirable restraint in not leaping upon the bed, yet as the Inspector was about to remind Chiot no order to this effect had been given, he was presented with a cup of green tea and a bowl of strong mushroom broth.

Both tea and broth were excellent, and the Inspector ate and drank slowly so as to savor the taste. Yet Mlle Lily’s attempts to aid him must have distracted him, for it was only when he was close to finishing the second bowl of broth when he realized it had been refilled.

“Madame l’Inspecteur, you-”

“- didn’t make too much after all, did I? You know how it is, sir, dreadful hard to judge when you’re cooking for guests.” She raised her own bowl, as if submitting it as evidence.

“More tea?” Mlle Lily skittered off without waiting for the response. Scarcely a moment later, there came a flash of viric light from the kitchen, then a yelp. “This… this… it’s lovely they’re sending cherries, but can’t you tell them to knock?” The rat returned, bearing the offending item, and hastily scrambled up on the Inspector’s bed once more. “Later.”

The tea’s reviving properties notwithstanding, the Inspector felt his eyelids grow heavy. Finding his pocket watch (as well as his remaining attire save for a nightshirt) absent, he cast a glance about the room to determine whether this was appropriate.

Inspector R____-H______ caught his gaze. “I suppose that’s a bit too many candles if you need to sleep, sir.”

“Hardly. I am merely resting my eyes. …There was the sunlight.” He turned towards the wall. “They make it far too bright these days.”

“I’ll douse some of the candles, then. So your eyes can get some rest.”

The room dimmed. Soon, there were no further sounds beyond his companions’ even breaths and the steady ticking of what no doubt was his watch somewhere nearby, and at last the Inspector found sleep.

He was much restored in the morning: the dull ache had dulled further, and he could once more make out the contours of the room even in the darkness of Old Newgate. There was no light save for a faint blue shine, emanating from what seemed to be a point upon the silhouette of Inspector R____-H______ by the desk. She was not in the habit of glowing; he should inquire as to the cause later. Yet as he had evidently been the first to wake, he resolved first to prepare breakfast. It was only proper.

He rose, noiselessly as he could, noting in the process with some satisfaction that the leg that had begun to trouble him since the Horticultural Exhibition no longer did so - it had, he reasoned, been an excellent opportunity to set it anew, and it had healed cleanly on this occasion.

The room had swayed but briefly, and the Inspector’s pulse had remained steady, so he decided he was fit to attend matters of propriety. He found his uniform neatly folded on a chair - the shirt had evidently been a lost cause, but the coat and trousers had been salvaged -, gathered all that was necessary and stepped into the kitchen to set to changing and shaving.

He had come no further than lighting a foxfire candle and removing his nightshirt, the latter once more to the complaint of his ribs, when his attention was arrested by a peculiar sight: sutures, following the path the splinter of the Revolveress must have torn - a path that, if the Inspector was any judge of his own vitality, should have healed unaided. He had hardly begun to examine them when his eyes fastened upon a silver gleam in the center of his chest.

At first, he took it for a button of his ill-used coat, fused to flesh in the haste of healing. Yet surely, he thought, Mlle Lily would not let it remain when she had been so diligent with her needlework? With the aid of his shaving mirror, he deciphered the writing upon what he saw to be a latch: “With Joy, from the Hill.”

“Are you… is everything alright?” came the cautious voice of Mlle Lily. “I told you to be careful, it’s too soon…”

Before he had opportunity to respond, the rat had already skittered to his side.

He fixed her with a level gaze. “Explain.”

“You kept trying to… it kept trying to beat, and it couldn’t, it was just pieces, wearing itself out faster than you could put it together again, and… I had s-something already, it was just a first try, the next one was going to be so much better at winding itself but there wasn’t the time…”

“It is functional.”

He had intended it as a statement, yet she appeared to have taken it as a question. “It’ll keep going for a week without winding, if you’re careful. A few days at least.” Her voice had steadied now she was focused upon explaining her craft. “I wound it just y-yesterday, but… it’s better if I show you how it works before you need it.”

She disappeared into the main cell, but the Inspector barely had time to arrange himself in a more dignified manner before she returned bearing a silver key, much like that of a toy, though larger in size. Under imprecations to keep the key clean and never lose it (“I have spares, but if I have to make spares for the spares, I’ll… I’ll be very cross with you”), she guided him through the process - opening the latch, feeling the spring’s tension, carefully turning the key… When at last he packed the key and all that was required to clean it into the leather case he was to carry at all times from that moment, the Inspector’s hands were nearly steady, and the ticking of his heart entirely so.

#fallen london #horticulture hell #in which the inspector is perfectly well #(body horror)#(I always figured she had that stashed away on a drawer and if wounds 80 isn’t a reason to get it out I don’t know what is)

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nancypullen · 2 years

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Grancy Time

Last week the Edgewater Pullens had a hiccup in their schedule. The grandgirl’s preschool would be closed on Thursday and Friday, and since they planned to leave on a family vacation Saturday morning it seemed like overkill to take two additional days off. But THAT’S why we moved here, to be grandparents and fill in those cracks! So we met for dinner on Wednesday night and brought the princess home with us.

Just kidding, she’s easy to be with. Everywhere she goes giggles and glitter follow. She’s chatty so you have to be on your toes in case you agree to something you shouldn’t, and she’s firm in her opinions - bacon should be soft, not crunchy- but as long as you like playing Barbie’s Dress Shop, Rainbow Rangers (I’m always Anna Banana), and Cheetah Dragons (something she and her friends created), you’re good. She loves books and can listen to dozens of stories. She goes to bed easy and wakes up happy. What else could a Grancy wish for? On Thursday morning I served Teddy Bear Toast. Whole grains, protein, and fruit - a healthy breakfast with the added bonus of being cute.

Over the next two days she had her name spelled out in cheese and cherry tomatoes (two of her favorites), pigs in a blanket that actually looked like pigs (why didn’t I snap a picture) and we pretty much played with our food. I know, bad idea, but as she often says, “That’s okay, it’s GRANCY TIME!” We baked cookies and had a tea party out by the mermaid lagoon. I have an old, pewter teapot that she loves using because she says “it’s real”. I won’t tell her that I was using it to keep my colored pencils in. It would break her heart to see it on my desk now. Can’t do it. Here’s the remnants of the tea party, you can see that tarnished little pot.

We built towers and castles ...

and she wore the “bride hat” a lot.

We baked, we read, we played Barbies, board games, PlayDoh, and zookeepers (Molly dazzled in her role as a tiger). She showed me how to use her tablet. We had deep conversations about how we know fairies are definitely real. We giggled for three days. Late Friday afternoon we had to give her back. I was tired. But you know what I mean - tired in the best possible way, tired from a good time. I’m thrilled to my bones that she loves coming to stay with us, that she’s comfortable enough to jump out of the car and run to her room. She feels at home with us and that makes me incredibly happy. I want her to always feel safe and loved here, free to be herself and know that we think she’s wonderful. That’s my job as Grancy Nancy. She’s just four years old, and these magical days of wild imagination are so brief. In a year she’ll go to kindergarten and then it’s rules, rules, rules. Don’t talk, walk in a line, sit still, not now, didn’t I say no talking? Oh, I know it’s all necessary and that she’ll probably have a wonderful, kind teacher and love her school - but it’s the end of carefree childhood and the beginning of thirteen years of schedules and learning how unfair the world can be. I swear I’m not bitter about education, it’s just a bittersweet milestone when you hand them over.

I was overprotective of my kids, looks like I’m heading down the same road with the grandgirl. I’m not sure my heart can take it. Right now she’s off on vacation with her sweet parents, romping on Florida’s beaches and visiting with family. Last time she got to go on her Grandpa’s boat out to Shell Island and explore - she was enchanted. Hope she goes again. I’m sure she’ll have plenty to tell me when she comes back and I’m going to enjoy hearing her tales. She’s a hoot. Today it’s back to reality, I’ll be meal prepping and doing laundry. I’m entertaining thoughts of burning down the salon where my hair was ruined. Seems like each day it’s worse. I really hate and I know that time is the only answer. And maybe a hat. The mister is out mowing the lawn and then he’ll haul off cardboard from the garage. The recycle center is just up the road, so that’s convenient. We’re back to our quiet, boring days - but I guess we need those too. I need the balance to keep me from going kooky. I may actually break out the clay and make some earrings. Time for some fall pretties! That’s all the news from Grancy Central. I hope that you’re enjoying a Sunday that nourishes your soul - whether that means peace and quiet or big, busy gatherings. Lets start this last week of August with happy hearts. I’m so ready to say farewell to the broiling months. Bon voyage, boob sweat! Onward toward September and all the delights of the “ber” months. Finally! Sending out loads of love today, grab a handful for yourself. Stay safe, stay well, stay happy. Nancy

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villain-in-love · 5 months

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cherry vanilla, matcha and blue moon for Jamil? (@canarycurse)

I'm finally done answering this... Sorry for the delay, I was fighting demons here.

cherry vanilla: how does your F/O show their affection for you?

Does allowing me to be stick around by his side without him making a sour face count as an affection?

Just kidding. But it was, at one point, the first sign of affection that he ever showed to Prefect.

I would say that Jamil is a person who prefers to speak with his actions. I mean, this guy got a silver tongue, but it seems to be mostly reserved for nefarious purposes. He’s not that good at expressing his true feelings that way– the words that come out are awkward and he will just end up embarrassed, telling Prefect to forget it. She won’t.

Part of his affection is making sure that she’s alive and well. Maybe helping with some chores or homework, or finding ways to keep Grim busy when this cat is in the mood to annoy her. Treating her constant injuries (things got better after she gained the ability to control magic, but she will always stay a physically inept loser), making lunch not just for himself and Kalim, but also for Prefect.

He also always makes sure to make time for her in his insanely packed schedule, and wouldn’t mind Prefect accompanying him even when he’s busy with something. Even if he keeps a neutral expression and even when he's doing something else at the same time, he listens, observes, and analyses.

I would even say overanalyses. Like many people, sometimes he can’t sleep at night because he’s thinking of his beloved, except he just overanalyses Prefect’s every word and every gesture trying to deduce more information about her. As I always said, scientific interest is a form of love and he wants to study her with a scalpel under a microscope. This feeling is mutual.

He also always tries to come up with a logical the solution if she has any problems. Part of it is just the way he usually thinks, of course, but this time he’s actually invested.

Another way he shows his affection is, surprisingly, by teasing her, making sarcastic remarks and lovingly poking fun of her, mostly her questionable life choices and opportunistic nature. Though that is, honestly, more about allowing her to see that playful and sassy side of him he hides from most of the people behind the mask of seriousness. And it’s only fair because Prefect is also known for showing her affection in a form of roasting him at any chance she gets.

Jamil is not a fan of public displays of affection, so most of the physical affection stays behind closed doors. And when it comes to gestures of physical affection he’s surprisingly gentle and almost innocent, mostly just wanting to stay close and keep Prefect by his side.

matcha: what kind of gifts does your F/O give you? Are they always buying you little presents or do they invest only in larger items for birthdays or holidays?

Useful gifts. The ones that may not seem anything special from an outside glance, but in reality Jamil puts a lot of thought in his gifts. Judging by the information provided in canon, Jamil’s gifts are usually small but high in quality, and are usually the things that fit the situation. Jamil’s quite observant so he knows what people might need at the moment.

So Prefect might receive a new teapot because she's constantly drinking tea and her old one just broke down. Or much needed alchemic reagent for one of her (most likely illegal) experiments. Or a new set of graphite pencils because she’s been drawing using the same old stub for a while now and Jamil just wants to put an end to this travesty.

Also, assuming that this takes place during and after my s/i’s second year in Twisted Wonderland (because Jamil and Prefect weren’t quite at that level of friendship to exchange gifts before the second year), magical artifacts are the best gifts when he really has no other ideas – it's something Prefect can both use as intended or study for her own curiosity… or drain of magic in case of emergency.

Gifts are not something Jamil buys often as something like this just doesn’t cross his mind often. So even in the relationship Jamil will mostly give Prefect something only for the occasions when it’s customary to give gifts – like birthdays or other holidays. (Not that she minds – Prefect sucks at choosing gifts and is always running out of money, and she would hate to stay in debt)

However, if we look into the possible future, if Jamil’s wish to travel the world alone comes true, then it would become a custom for him to buy her sweets from different countries as a gift for when he comes back.

blue moon: is your F/O very routine-oriented or do they like to go with the flow? How routine-oriented are you?

Jamil is less of routine-oriented and more plan-oriented, if that makes sense? Let’s put it that way, he has to babysit look after and serve Kalim – one of the most nonsensical and unpredictable people you will ever meet. Which means that it’s rare for Jamil to get stuck in a predictable routine, for better or for worse. And that taught him to be ready for literally anything that could possibly happen (he can predict at least 100 ways something can go wrong and he’s prepared for every single one of them, but then the 101th thing he somehow wasn’t able to predict happens and then he freaks out.) I think that if left alone in a calm environment Jamil might eventually fall into the routine but I’m honestly not sure if he will actually like it that much.

Prefect is… not a routine-oriented person. In fact, she hates routine so much that she throws herself into a new misadventure at any chance she gets even if it’s dangerous. She’d rather risk her life than get stuck doing the same thing every day. It’s good for her mental health. But not so good for Jamil’s, though.

#Me: says that she can't imagine someone being affectionate to her #Also me: writes this wall of text as an answer #It's a result of me basically studying myself and Jamil here #ship: just villain things #self ship #self shipping #self ship community #self shipping community

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harperenchantrix · 7 months

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with the winter cold and flu season upon us, I wanted to share for my fellow human beings (and especially those of us who make a living with our voices!) my recommendation for dealing with sore throats and laryngitis.

I don't really like name dropping products, but when you're sick sometimes convenience trumps DIYing your way into sustainable practices. thus, the tea blend that I have been drinking like it's water this last week: Traditional Medicinals Throat Coat.

seriously, this stuff is amazing.

I've looked into enough herbal medicine over the years to know that this tea actually does have good shit for throats. licorice root, slippery elm bark, marshmallow root, wild cherry bark, fennel fruit, cinnamon bark, and orange peel (those last for flavor but also for awesome anti-bacterial and antioxidant effects!)

for herbal teas (technically, a tissane if you wanna be fancy with it) you'll want to boil water, pour over the tea bags just off the boil, and let it steep for at least ten minutes. I tend to leave the tea bag in the mug while I'm drinking it. or in the teapot when I make a full pot of it.

see all those roots and barks? to get the good stuff out of it, you need to really steep it for a long while. this isn't a white tea where you're sitting with a stopwatch and pulling the tea after 30 seconds. go long or, I guess, have weak tea?

next step for perfect throat soothing awesomeness: Asian style citron/ginger/honey tea.

you can make your own, or hit the market and buy a big jar. it's basically very thinly sliced lemons, grated ginger, and honey. pack a jar with alternating layers of lemon and ginger, cover with honey, refrigerate, and make it into a tea. put a teaspoon or so in a mug with boiling water, drink it up yum. eat the chunky bits, too.

or, do what I do: add it to your throat coat tea.

seriously, this tea, with the lemon/ginger/honey added? hot damn.

bonus round for extreme voice loss or sore throat: add one teaspoon, or up to one ounce, of whiskey. hot toddy that bitch. not too much of the booze, you're not aiming at tipsy, your goal is to numb the throat, warm the tissues (increased blood flow for healing), and get your throat to stop stabbing you with glass knives when you swallow. just a tiny touch, and I prefer the honey whiskey to the oak blah blah lick a peat bog whiskey. but you do you.

enjoy tasty tea that makes your voice sound better and your throat hurt less.

#herbal tea #recommendation #voice loss #strep throat #sore throat #voice acting #tips from professionals

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carcass-confessions · 10 months

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Just for organization (and funsies because it's only 1 am and I'm bored) I wanna make a list of all the (magic) characters I have so far for this unnamed magic school story. Also idk if bullet lists are a thing on tumblr so like don't judge me if the format is weird jfshfjjsjs

Humans:

-Claire Celeste Estrella, the Amber Star Witch (the main character, 1/3 of a prophetic trifecta of witches, the character my friends ask me if she's written on purpose to be autistic, to which I say idk I write her like I'm writing myself so like)

-Heather Dean Forester, the Limelight Hydrangea Witch (Claire's best friend, he calls her by celeste, honestly he's kind of a boring design but I'm in love with him he's literally Just a guy who likes plants)

-Nova Éliane Jones, the Pink Sun Witch (lowkey starts off like she's the Mean Popular Girl trope but that's only because she's another 1/3 of a prophetic witch trifecta and she's charismatic and tbh just has great fashion sense, and Looks Like the queen bee of her friend trio,, tl;dr she's intimidating because she's popular but she's actually nice)

-Pippa Jane Owens, the Dandelion Witch (my DAUGHTER, in my top 3 favorite characters even though I haven't even written her yet, I just think she's neat. She's in Novas friend group, and I'm considering the idea that she somehow went to preschool or elementary school with Heather and Claire)

-Halia Ka Hiwa Kapule, the Red Hibiscus Witch (the third member of novas trio, if the Heathers were nice then Nova would be chandler, pippa would be mcnamara, and halia would be Duke. Not toxic, just in the sense that she's extremely perceptive and smart and easily on par with nova in popularity and intimidation from it. Idk I really like her outfit, leather coats over sweaters look DistinguishedTM)

-Divya Deshmukh, the Hourglass Witch (hrngh purple and gold color palette,, them and another character are the rebellious seniors who know all the Campus Secrets and Gossip, I love them very dearly, and their existence provided me a neat piece of worldbuilding so I appreciate that)

Non-humans (people native to the ~other world~ that the school takes place in; if not specified, assume they're an ElfTM):

-Daphne Rosa Clover, the Lilypad Witch (Claire's love interest, one of the few people in this world that is interested in the science behind magic rather than just what it can do. I love her dearly, pastel green and pink is one of my favorite color palettes)

-Sock Elm Dragonfly, the Feather Witch (the other senior that messes with freshmen alongside Divya. They're lowkey dating, idk. This is the one character I didn't name myself, but Sock is a better name for them than I probably could've come up with, I likely would've defaulted back to plant names since THEYRE ALL UNISEX TO MEE)

-London River Knight, the Lavender Moon Witch (the last 1/3 of the prophecy, also he's a werewolf? I haven't actually decided whether he's a Classic Werewolf or just a kemonomimi like some other characters. He's a pale lanky emo boy with grey hair idk what else to say, I just think he's neat, one of my favorite characters fjshhfsh)

-Serra Mun, the Cherry Witch (the VERY FIRST character I created for this story like 5 or 6 years ago. He's a catboy, of course. Frenemies with London, and as much as I want to ship them I fear the cliche of cat x dog but god dammit it's funny watching the way they bicker, especially since that's their first introduction from the pov of Claire and heather as their roommates, another one of my absolute favorites <3)

-Welwitschia Gloska, the Teapot Witch (well this is interesting. According to the laws of symbolic magic, she shouldn't exist, since a student by the same name and symbol just died the previous year. Perhaps there's more types of magic that can touch the soul, where symbolic magic cannot?)

-Bela Briar True, the Wisteria Witch (at the time of writing this, the most recently created character. They also probably shouldn't exist according to what people believe they know about souls, death, and the recycling and reincarnation of symbols. People tend to think of their existence as world breaking. It'd be like if it was discovered that gravity wasn't real and everything we know about modern science was completely wrong. They fully lean into this reputation though, and purposefully sneak around and generally act like a freaky little gremlin)

Non-Students:

-Professor Adriata Sweetweb, the Lavender Witch (the underworld necromancy teacher. I'm going to put it here first that every professor is a huge weirdo, so just imagine every professor I mention unless otherwise specified as being balls to the walls Extra in design and personality. As eccentric as humanly possible, and then more because none of them are humans)

-Professor Edith Dire, the Purple Foxglove Witch (the kitchen witchcraft teacher. It's basically a cooking class but with magic food, drinks, etc. She had her entire body turned into a wooden puppet so she could consume magic food containing her own symbol of a Foxglove, because otherwise it's poisonous.)

-Ewa Gloska, the Silver Moon Witch (1/3 of the previous prophecy 400 years ago, believed to be deceased)

-Ursa Elara, the Golden Sun Witch (1/3 of the previous prophecy 400 years ago, deceased)

-Altair Tahtinen, the White Star Witch (1/3 of the previous prophecy 400 years ago, deceased)

-Prastopé, the Lamb (one of many deities of the underworld. Also one of the friendliest ones, as her domain in the underworld is a vast meadow under pink skies, full of lambs that act as her eyes and messengers, meant for the souls of children. Underworld necromancers that wish to enter the underworld or simply speak with any deity tend to aim for Prastopé, as she has a reputation for being the most understanding and the least wrathful)

-Flutyx, the Ferrywoman (every underworld deity has at least one ferryman that brings the right souls to their domains in the underworld. Flutyx is the wife of Prastopé, and her only ferryman. While not as visibly soft and bright as Prastopé, being draped in black fabrics and dark colors, souls tend to feel at ease in her company. If Prastopé is the shield for the souls in her domain, Flutyx is the sword.)

-Paris insert last name (the actual first character I made, but he wasn't made FOR this story and is really just a super old character I completely forgot about and suddenly remembered and wanted to bring back. Anyways he's like in charge of what is essentially TSA for interdimensional travel lmao)

Characters I need to make but haven't yet

-all the other professors, too lazy to copy paste the list of classes I made rn

-more deities for both the underworld and over-overworld

-way more students as side characters but I unfortunately get way too attached and have to give everyone a Story

-the non-magical characters like yknow. The FAMILIES of the students lmao

-the Principal? Headmaster?? Of the school. And the one before them because it's important for the Lore

-some more characters related to the folklore of the world because history is a big aspect of this story and the characters arcs

-there's a character I accidentally retconned out of existence who was once named Barley and I really want to find a way to implement him back into the world because Heather deserves a love interest tbh, also it's needed for his ArcTM

#oc #my ocs #writeblr #creative writing #writer tumblr #original character

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breannateintzewriter · 1 year

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get to know me tag game

thanking @justnerdy15 for tagging me!

Rules: Answer all the questions, then tag 9 other people you want to know better.

Me: No, because I'm shy and that makes me feel weird.

Three Ships: You have no idea how boring I am about this. I'm old. My ships are like, Newsies ones. Aziraphale and Crowley. These are *barely* ships. These are practically canon.

First Ship: probably the Swordspoint boys, Alec and Richard. Again, they are canon. But they are such (problematic! hoo boy!) babes.

Last Song I Listened to: Unfair question, because I had the vinyl out tonight, but it was Feels So Good by Chuck Mangione because it's light jazz and I was *trying* to make my house calm down enough to finish editing this stupid chapter. It only sort of worked. Before that was Dan Avidan doing covers.

Last Movie I Watched: Sharpe's Company, because I had a cold and I wanted to watch men stalk around in historical costumes, occasionally shirtless, beating up the French.

Currently Reading: Vampire Weekend by Mike Chen. And a book about neighborhoods. And a stack of SF&F magazines--just read a brilliant short story about a Martian train station--and The Scarlet Circus, and a horror book called The Hollows about snow-spider things with little hand-feet (lil hands for feet). And a pile of New Yorkers that I can't get through fast enough. And some things for my special interest. In retrospect maybe this is why I'm behind on my TBR.

Currently Watching: All Creatures Great and Small, for the knitwear (I knit), the teapots, and the sweet brown-eyed cows. Maybe I will get bored and start Daredevil again.

Currently Consuming: A Manhattan, made with Bullit bourbon and the good cherries from Italy.

Currently Craving: a room with a locking door and about three days of silence. I feel like I could get so much writing done then, but realistically I'd need a room with no internet and a locking door and an automatic supply of snacks.

#tag game #i am bad at these #I like to be invited tho #like a bad fairy at a christening

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rahdoctorsun · 1 year

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And then Nick can say she’s crazy you’re gonna be saying that when your neck is step yes snapped in half. Oh thank you so much all of you God you guys are great yesterday we may have had our differences, but I always thought that you guys could be a lot nicer. I love these guys. You guys have no idea they’re all pretty great.

Tiana so I figured it would be the other side so I guess maybe you’re kind of saving face for that other side but I’m pretty sure the other sides gonna fuck his shit up it’s not my shit he’s not mine

Basically, that’s why they keep hitting me because I’m a little teapot sort of short and stout.

No I’m serious you can ask Boris but Nick figured if everybody is already dead get sporty

Probably more than likely some of those women were trying to be fresh. They were trying to be something like me and they are not me so for the most part I don’t think he’s gonna be very sporty.

Anything that was stolen from me will be returned Black Stone Cherry and Ashley I promise you that one way or another everything will be returned to me and I want apologies but I don’t want to be around you guys ever so don’t get any ideas that you’re going to be Hollywood stars anytime soon.

A favor possibly I don’t know I don’t know for sure I’m not sure if you guys feel sporty in a good way targeting people with aids is not sport.

Targeting people to give them HIV is not a fucking sport.

Know I was thinking about ditch weed and nick

— something else that came to mind is that we can’t tolerate doctors getting sporty because they are trying to change their names so that they can be racist bags of shit

Actually, don’t Bob diamond him just kill him

Are you talking about Bob Proctor or are you talking about John or Nathan?

John and Nathan, you do not wanna fuck with Bob fucking Proctor

But as far as Nick goes yeah just kill him. Oh good you’re not gonna worry about all day. Are you gonna torture him? I’m just curious.

I know some of these other guys have done some bad things, but I’m just asking this as a favor cause it was offered to me sort of it’s complicated. Yes, I have a lot more to say on that it’s not like everybody doesn’t already know but I didn’t need to know some more things about the kid.

#13 #Gemini #dr Rebeća #md crisis #sport #hiv and aids #MD changing names to racially target others #nick necky meadow #nick necky meador #ditch weed #North Dakota #burger murder #fbi #1950s #Kentucky headhunters #black stone cherry #a time to kill #nick meador #bog diamond him instead

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langtanfarvingar · 2 years

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To go to Lvov. Which station for Lvov, if not in a dream, at dawn, when dew gleams on a suitcase, when express trains and bullet trains are being born. To leave in haste for Lvov, night or day, in September or in March. But only if Lvov exists, if it is to be found within the frontiers and not just in my new passport, if lances of trees —of poplar and ash—still breathe aloud like Indians, and if streams mumble their dark Esperanto, and grass snakes like soft signs in the Russian language disappear into thickets. To pack and set off, to leave without a trace, at noon, to vanish like fainting maidens. And burdocks, green armies of burdocks, and below, under the canvas of a Venetian café, the snails converse about eternity. But the cathedral rises, you remember, so straight, as straight as Sunday and white napkins and a bucket full of raspberries standing on the floor, and my desire which wasn’t born yet, only gardens and weeds and the amber of Queen Anne cherries, and indecent Fredro. There was always too much of Lvov, no one could comprehend its boroughs, hear the murmur of each stone scorched by the sun, at night the Orthodox church’s silence was unlike that of the cathedral, the Jesuits baptized plants, leaf by leaf, but they grew, grew so mindlessly, and joy hovered everywhere, in hallways and in coffee mills revolving by themselves, in blue teapots, in starch, which was the first formalist, in drops of rain and in the thorns of roses. Frozen forsythia yellowed by the window. The bells pealed and the air vibrated, the cornets of nuns sailed like schooners near the theater, there was so much of the world that it had to do encores over and over, the audience was in frenzy and didn’t want to leave the house. My aunts couldn’t have known yet that I’d resurrect them, and lived so trustfully; so singly; servants, clean and ironed, ran for fresh cream, inside the houses a bit of anger and great expectation, Brzozowski came as a visiting lecturer, one of my uncles kept writing a poem entitled Why, dedicated to the Almighty, and there was too much of Lvov, it brimmed the container, it burst glasses, overflowed each pond, lake, smoked through every chimney, turned into fire, storm, laughed with lightning, grew meek, returned home, read the New Testament, slept on a sofa beside the Carpathian rug, there was too much of Lvov, and now there isn’t any, it grew relentlessly and the scissors cut it, chilly gardeners as always in May, without mercy, without love, ah, wait till warm June comes with soft ferns, boundless fields of summer, i.e., the reality. But scissors cut it, along the line and through the fiber, tailors, gardeners, censors cut the body and the wreaths, pruning shears worked diligently, as in a child’s cutout along the dotted line of a roe deer or a swan. Scissors, penknives, and razor blades scratched, cut, and shortened the voluptuous dresses of prelates, of squares and houses, and trees fell soundlessly, as in a jungle, and the cathedral trembled, people bade goodbye without handkerchiefs, no tears, such a dry mouth, I won’t see you anymore, so much death awaits you, why must every city become Jerusalem and every man a Jew, and now in a hurry just pack, always, each day, and go breathless, go to Lvov, after all it exists, quiet and pure as a peach. It is everywhere.

Adam Zagajewski, To Go To Lvov

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booksofkingdomsandcourts · 3 years

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Firelight

After their little rainstorm jaunt, Elain and Lucien return inside to warm themselves by the fire. And it doesn’t take long before there’s heat from more than just the flames.

(Side note: Tumblr messed up all the indentation and I’m too lazy to fix it so sorry)

Read the fluffier drabble of a Part 1 here!

Warning: NSFW!!

Lucien’s heart was still pounding. He set the rest of Elain’s cherry pie on a serving tray with a teapot of fresh apple cinnamon tea and two teacups, then he carried the tray from the kitchen into the adjacent sitting room. His clothes were soaked through from chasing Elain into the rain, and they had both agreed that perhaps sitting by the large fireplace would do them good. They could go to their rooms, he supposed, and change, but the night was already wearing on, so it would make the most sense to change into nightclothes, and by then it would be late….

So they were just going to sit and warm and dry themselves by the fire, unwilling to part just yet. When Lucien entered the sitting room, he found that Elain had pulled the plush old pillows from the ripped, dusty couches and had arranged them into a little nest in front of the hearth with a velvet blanket folded neatly beside them. Now she was sitting in front of the fireplace, arranging the heavy logs inside it in a neat pile.

“I would have done that,” Lucien protested.

Elain turned to him, making sure the top log was secure and scooting back towards her pillow nest. She smiled. “Now, don’t get like that. You know I’ve never minded getting my hands a little dirty.” She raised an eyebrow. “You’re not about to come in here with some it’s not ladylike nonsense, are you?”

“Of course not,” Lucien said, setting the serving tray down beside her. He waved his hand over the pie to warm it, then snapped his fingers to start a fire blazing from the carefully arranged wood. She rolled her eyes as if to say show off. “It’s not that you shouldn’t because you’re a lady, it’s that you shouldn’t because I’m your mate and I wish to tend to you.” In some situations he might have given the words a little weight, a slight double entendre. But even without his doing so, he thought he saw Elain’s cheeks flush slightly as she busied herself with a new slice of pie and didn’t argue further.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. For the past several weeks, he thought he had sensed a slight affection in the way Elain spoke to him, had thought maybe there was something there in her laughter and the way she sometimes watched him when she thought he couldn’t tell. Then he would tell himself it was just wishful thinking, because though it wasn’t his intent when he invited her to join the Band of Exiles, he had been falling in love with her almost since the moment she arrived.

How could he not? Elain had blossomed almost immediately outside of the Night Court, practicing her seer powers, asking eagerly about the different courts around Prythian and the kingdoms across the sea, holding her own as she verbally sparred with Vassa and Jurian and, well, him. He had once thought her naïve, and admittedly she was, in her way. But she was also smart and observant, and not as much of a pushover as he might have thought. On top of it all she was gentle, and kind, and she indeed liked getting her hands dirty. There was no salvaging the expansive gardens of the estate all on her own, but she was trying nonetheless. When Jurian had asked why she bothered, she said it was more about being out there in the moment than it was about the end result.

Lucien wanted to show her the world.

Now, however, he leaned against one of the old armchairs to take off his soaking wet socks. He had kicked off his boots upon returning from his meeting earlier that day, leaving him running out into the rain in just wool socks, a terrible thing. He dropped them in a damp pile behind the chair then unbuttoned his sopping jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair and leaving him in just his white undershirt, equally soaked.

He was thinking to himself that attempting to get dry like this was a fool’s errand when he caught Elain watching him undress. Her eyes wandered over his torso, fully exposed through his damp shirt, and he watched with equal captivation as her tongue swirled around the cherry pie on her fork before her lips closed slowly over it, almost like she was imagining it was…something else.

Lucien swallowed heavily as he felt the beginnings of heat pooling beneath his stomach, and not from the fire. Elain dragged her eyes up to meet his, and she set down her plate.

“That’s probably wise,” she said. “I suppose linen will dry more quickly than wool.” She rose from ground, brushing her thick, damp curls over one shoulder and turning around. “Would you help me with the ties?”

The…ties? As in, help her take off her dress? Lucien’s mind froze as his heart thundered in his chest. Her ties, he tried to tell himself. Undo her ties. It wasn’t even a corset, just a line of simple knots at the back of her dress. She probably could have done them herself, which meant the fact that she was asking him to meant—

He waited too long. She turned to look over her shoulder at him, and when she saw his face, her expression fell, and her cheeks turned bright red. “Or, um…you’re right, I probably shouldn’t—” She began to sink back down to the ground.

What was he, a fledgling male? Frozen at the thought of a female asking him—offering for him—to undress her? “No,” he managed, and his voice came out rough and choked. She paused, straightening again. He cleared his throat. Get it together. “I’ll help you. If I still may.” She gave him a shy smile and nodded, turning her face back to the fire.

He approached her, reaching his hands up to pull the knots loose. He hoped she couldn’t tell that they were shaking slightly. Once he was done, the dress hung slack from her frame, but it didn’t fall. Elain didn’t move, letting Lucien look, letting him lead. The exposed skin on her shoulder looked soft and warm in the firelight. Lucien leaned in and gently planted a kiss where that skin met her neck. Elain sighed, tipping her head slightly to allow him better access. He let his eyes close as he continued to press kisses slowly up and down her neck. His fingers found the top edge of her dress and began sliding it down.

She helped by lifting her arms out of the sleeves, but otherwise she let Lucien undress her as slowly as he liked, the bodice of the dress falling slack as his hands moved to her hips, bunching the fabric and pushing it, ever slowly, over the curves of her until it all fell into a pile on the floor.

Lucien’s hands returned to her hips, fingertips tracing up and down their shape. Elain rarely wore pants or more revealing gowns like her sisters sometimes did, so Lucien had never truly seen the shape of her body below her waist. He felt it now, beneath the cold, damp fabric of her linen slip. Her hips were a little wider than her sisters’, and already Lucien was imaging how it would feel to grip them as he thrust into her, his fingers leaving love marks all over their soft expanse.

And he hadn’t even felt her ass yet.

Lucien lifted his head from Elain’s neck, opening his eyes to gaze down upon her. Her head had fallen back against his shoulder, and her eyes were shut. From this angle, her breasts greeted him, rising and falling swiftly as Elain took heavy breaths. His hands stilled on her hips as he drank in the sight of her soft, small breasts, the valley between them just visible over the neckline of her slip. Much like his shirt, however, the undergarment was practically sheer when soaked through like this, leaving the rosy, dark circles at the peak of her breasts visible through the fabric. In their centers sat two tight knots. Her breasts were at full attention.

“They’re cold.” It had been so silent save for the crackle of the fire that Lucien started at the sound of Elain’s voice. She giggled, and he tore his eyes from her chest to look at her. She had not lifted her head from his shoulder but she had opened her eyes, and the glazed, lustful look in them almost sent Lucien to the ground. He felt her thread her fingers through his and lift his hands from her hips to her breasts. They fit perfectly into his palms. “Will you warm them up for me?”

Cauldron boil him. Taking a shaky breath, Lucien began massaging, first kneading the soft mounds into her chest, against the bone. Elain moaned quietly, her eyes drifting shut again. Lucien then worked them from peak to base, spreading his fingers like a five-petaled flower then drawing them up to close on the hard pebbles at the tip. Elain gasped, and then she dropped her hips back, suddenly pressing the weight of her ass against Lucien’s very full, very sensitive erection. The sensation startled him so much that every muscle in his body tightened, including his hands, which squeezed hard on Elain’s nipples. This caused the same reaction in her, and she gave a startled, breathy squeal of pleasure, grabbing Lucien’s pants at his thighs and grinding herself into his cock.

FUCK. Lucien tore himself away from her. She gave a cry of surprise, but he was bent over the armchair with his discarded jacket before he could even finish thinking about moving. His heartbeat throbbed in his dick, and he wished he was bare because just the friction of his pants against his erection as he heaved in breath after breath was about to send him into climax. He scrambled for unpleasant visions, mornings vomiting or cold rain. Except cold rain made him think of Elain, not even an hour ago, in the rain in his arms, her warm, wet body pressed to his—

“Are you okay?” Lucien wrenched his gaze up at Elain’s voice, only to see her on the floor, pressed up on her arms with legs tilted out beside her as though she had fallen. Oh gods he realized. She had fallen. In his rush to get away from her, Lucien had accidentally cast her to the floor.

That realization was enough to pull him back from his edge immediately. He was still erect, painfully so, but he endured the slight limp it gave him and made his way back around the chair to her. “Gods, Elain, I’m so sorry!” he said. “Are you hurt?”

She giggled, pushing herself over into a seat. “I’m okay.” She tilted her head, giving him a teasing look. “You know, I’m okay if you want to get rough with me, but maybe we could start a little gentler than throwing me on the ground?”

“I’m sorry,” Lucien said helplessly, kneeling down in front of her, and Elain laughed again.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You didn’t actually throw me down. I landed on my feet but I was so…you know.” She blushed and motioned broadly to the area between her legs. “That my legs gave out.” Then she became serious, her fawn-brown eyes studying him with intent. “Did I…did I do something wrong?”

Lucien laughed, but it was mirthless. What a mess he was making of everything. “No, my love, you didn’t,” he said. He reached forward and brushed some of her still-damp curls from her forehead, trailing his fingers down to her chin. She leaned into his hand. “Quite frankly I was just trying to save myself from embarrassment. And I haven’t done a very good job of that, have I?”

“What do you mean?” Elain asked, lifting her head back up, still looking concerned.

He gave her an embarrassed grin. “Well, it’s not very dignified to finish in one’s pants, especially after nothing more than a couple minutes fondling a female’s breasts. I can do better than that for you, I promise.”

“Oh!” At the mention of his finish, Elain’s cheeks turned bright pink again, and she giggled with surprise. “Were you really that close?” she asked with wonder, which did not help his pride. Her eyes trailed down to the prominent bulge at the front of his pants, and Lucien felt his own cheeks get hot.

“It’s…been a while,” he conceded, and Elain giggled again.

They were quiet for a moment, and Lucien settled back, pulling a pillow from Elain’s forgotten nest to cover his groin, careful not to put too much friction against it. When he did, he saw Elain’s face fall. “Oh,” she said. “Oh. Lucien, I’m—I’m so sorry, I should have asked if you even wanted to tonight. I got so excited, I just assumed—”

“Elain,” he interrupted. “It’s alright. Just give me a minute to recover, and yes, I would be very interested in making love to you tonight.” Her eyes lit back up. “But I’m going to do it right. So if you would give me the luxury of a few minutes, I promise the next time I come close to finish, it will be much more…intentional.” He let the last word roll out as a purr.

“Okay,” Elain agreed breathily. She grabbed her discarded dress from the floor and laid it flat in front of the fire, then scooted over to him, picking up her half-eaten piece of pie. Had that only been a few minutes ago? It felt like hours already. Lucien cut himself a slice as well, pouring them each a cup of tea. Elain settled herself close to him, her side pressed against his, her head on his shoulder.

As much as his body was still reacting to hers, her warmth against him and the scent of arousal still thick on her skin, Lucien could be satisfied with just this, if she should change her mind about what she wanted tonight.

He didn’t think she was going to change her mind though. He caught the way she kept glancing at the pillow on his lap, like she was thinking about what was underneath and was maybe considering ripping the pillow away to get to it.

“I’m surprised by your appetite, Elain,” he teased. She frowned down at the piece of cherry pie she had nearly completed, looking confused, but when she tilted her head up and caught the mischievous look in his eyes, she blushed and turned away again.

“Well…it’s been a while for me too, you know,” she said, placing the plate with her pie crust at her feet.

Ah, so she had done it before. Lucien suppressed the roll of jealousy from the bond at the thought of his mate with another male. He had always assumed, since she and Graysen had been engaged, that they had likely been intimately involved, and the few times he had worked with Graysen, the man had made snide comments as such. It bothered him that Elain had been with such a slimeball, that she probably hadn’t been treated the way she deserved in bed. But he didn’t begrudge her having had another lover before she met him. He was hardly one to talk, in that regard.

Lucien finished his cup of tea, setting it and Elain’s plate on the serving tray and pushing it aside. He wrapped his arms around his mate, pulling her in closer to him. The light of the fire flickered gold over the soft skin of her cheeks, now with a steady flush from the fire’s heat. And from his, he liked to think. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She looked up at him with a question in her eyes. Now? Lucien almost laughed. How thoroughly he had underestimated her. He hadn’t imagined she’d be totally submissive in bed (he didn’t like it when females lay there still like dolls anyway), but never in another three centuries would he have guessed she’d be quite so…voracious.

A gift from the Cauldron indeed.

Lucien brushed his fingers through the damp curls on the side of her face. They were starting to dry now, like his own hair and their clothes. Elain sighed happily, reaching up to do the same to him. He relished in feeling of her fingertips against his skin as they savored this quiet moment together, the crackle of the fireplace beside them and the spatter of the rain against the windows.

Elain shifted slowly, moving from his side onto her knees, facing him. She leaned forward and grabbed the pillow in his lap. Lucien put his hands on it before she could pull it away, holding it in place. She frowned, and he grinned. He was never able to resist teasing her, not when her annoyed faces were so cute.

“Lucien,” she complained, but instead of fighting him, she just leaned across, putting her weight on the pillow and kissing him. He met her for a long, slow kiss, mouths moving gently against each other, tongues exploring hesitantly, then more eagerly. He lifted one hand to cup her head, and he felt her hands tighten on the pillow as she leaned in even farther.

“You better not be going totally soft on me under there,” Elain whispered between kisses.

Lucien chuckled. “Don’t worry, my dear. Not in these circumstances.” Indeed, the stiffness that he had lost while they relaxed was quickly returning with each kiss. “Besides, the softer I am to start,” he began, catching her chin with one hand and whispering against her jawline, “The longer you get to play.”

Elain gasped, breathy and eager. Lucien lifted his other hand from the pillow and she tossed it away, excited to claim her prize. As a general taste, Lucien tended to prefer when his partners played a little hard to get, let him chase them down. But everything was different with Elain, and now he couldn’t imagine how he’d ever found anything more arousing than her open eagerness. He barely had time to brace himself as she pounced on him, tangling her hands in his hair, sliding her tongue back into his mouth. Only a second later she pulled back and began sloppily untucking his shirt. Lucien obliged, swiftly pulling the shirt over his head and throwing it onto the chair with his jacket. Elain slid her hands down his bare chest as she kissed him again, humming happily. His skin buzzed where her fingertips trailed, sending hot sensation straight down to his cock. He was getting hard again fast, and Elain noticed, feeling it against her hips. She leaned back a little to meet his gaze, and her eyes were lit up with mischief. Then she slid her hands down, down, torturously slow, until she could tuck her fingers under the waistband of his pants.

He held still, letting her explore as she wanted. Elain moved her hips off of his and moved one hand to hover over his growing bulge. The fingers of the other hand trailed gently up and down at the border of his pants. For a moment, she just looked, and then in one motion she leaned in to kiss him again and brought her hand down, palming his dick through his pants. Lucien groaned into her mouth and he could feel her triumphant grin as she kissed him. She was unravelling him, almost in complete control. But he wasn’t lost just yet.

As Elain’s massage got more insistent, Lucien reached one hand up and caught her jaw again firmly. He tipped her head back a little, away from his lips. Elain didn’t struggle, just breathed heavily as he gave her a sweet smile and said, “Would you help me with the ties?”

For a brief second, there was a flicker of something like nervousness across her features. Then she quickly covered it and said, “I don’t know, perhaps I’ll just sit and stare at them for a bit first.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny.” Elain grinned. Clearly, there was no salvaging his role as the dominant one tonight, so Lucien let Elain shake off his hand and leaned back, giving her clear access.

She worked quickly, undoing the ties at the front of his pants and pulling them down at the waist, taking his undergarments with them. Lucien lifted his hips to allow her to slide them all the way off, kicking them from his ankles. Then he settled back onto his forearms and stretched out his long legs. He was hers tonight, however she wanted.

She surveyed him as he watched. Her linen slip had mostly dried now and had lost much of its sheerness, but he could still see that her breasts were peaked against the fabric. She smelled like arousal, but so much of the scent was spilling off of him that he wasn’t sure what was his and what was hers. Elain looked over his bare form over with admiration in her eyes, and under it he saw that hint of nervousness again. Then, whatever was going on in her head, she steeled herself and wrapped her hand around his cock.

Lucien hissed and dropped his head back. Whatever hesitation she was feeling inside, it didn’t show as she firmly pumped his length, tip to base. She moved to sit inside his legs, pushing them a little wider with her knees, and she shifted to using both hands, one after the other pulling along him. Lucien closed his eyes. Then she was back to one hand, firm and determined, rubbing a steady pace.

“Faster,” Lucien managed, not a command, but merely feedback. Immediately Elain quickened her pace and Lucien let out a content groan. He felt curious fingers against his balls, tracing, then a gentle squeeze. His back arched slightly and he grunted with pleasure. He could feel his breath getting heavier as he began approaching climax again, and Elain swirled her fingers through the precum at his tip, working it back down his shaft.

“Are you close?” she asked.

“Not as close as I was before, but closer than I’ve been since,” he said, the words uneven with his heavy breaths. But he lifted his head to give her a smirk. She could work for it a little yet.

She huffed, her cheeks puffing in a momentary pout. “Cheeky bastard. And I didn’t say you could look,” she added, pointing sternly at him. Raising his eyebrows, Lucien obligingly dropped his head back and closed his eyes again.

Elain returned to pumping him, faster and firmer now, and Lucien felt himself building to release. He tried to hang on to his sanity enough to wonder if he should move or suggest she remove her slip before he finished on her, but then Elain’s hands vanished.

And were immediately replaced by her mouth.

The groan that tore out of him was an involuntary, juvenile sound, startled and carnally pleased. He was so surprised that his back arched and his hips bucked, shoving the tip of him against the back of her mouth. She gave a muffled squeal and glared up at him.

“Sorry,” he breathed, watching her now, unable to stop from watching her as she looked back down, closed her eyes, and began to bob her head. She was resting forward on her forearms, one braced on either side of Lucien’s hips. Her curls were pushed back over her shoulders but wayward strands spilled forward, and he could no longer tell if they were damp from the rain or from sweat. He watched as she brought in one hand and worked what of his length wouldn’t fit in her mouth, and somewhere at the far reaches of his mind Lucien thought about how he would teach her, to relax her throat, to breathe, to take his whole length, but right now all he could think was her warm breath and soft lips and tender tongue, bobbing, then gently sucking as her hand worked his shaft, then his balls. There was a determined little crease between her eyebrows, like she was focusing really hard, and it was maddeningly cute. But also…

“Elain,” he grunted. “Elain.” A warning because he was about to cum, and he couldn’t reel it back in this time, not if she didn’t stop. And by the gods and the Cauldron and the Mother, he wanted to cum in her mouth, but if she wasn’t ready—

He really had to stop underestimating her. Elain flicked her eyes up to his, then the determined crease in her forehead grew as she pinched in her eyebrows, closed her eyes, and pressed down, taking an extra two inches of him into her throat.

Lucien groaned, loud and deep, and climaxed. Elain didn’t recoil as Lucien’s release filled her mouth, and when his hips finally relaxed back to the ground, she pulled back quickly, pinching her lips together and covering her mouth with her hands. Lucien watched her through a haze of bliss, wanting to tell her that she could spit, he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be offended, but she held up one finger as if to say hold on. Then her throat flexed and rolled as she swallowed. She pulled her hands away hesitantly, and then grinned, looking both proud and a little embarrassed. “Ta-da,” she said shyly.

And then she squealed as Lucien tackled her. His lips covered hers and his tongue swirled in her mouth, tasting himself there. Deep in his chest his male instinct, doubled by the mating bond, purred with contentment at his mate tasting like him, only him. Claim, his head rang. And even without the mating bond, that would have been the only thought on his mind right now.

Without breaking their kiss, Lucien reached for one of the large pillows to put under Elain’s head and shoulders. He lifted her with one arm and slid the pillow beneath her, setting her down into it.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said, moving from her lips to her ear. “Because I’m about to fuck your brains out.” She sucked in a sharp breath of air but Lucien was already gone, rucking up the bottom of her slip and diving between her legs.

She was soaking wet and not from the rain, her entrance and thighs slick with her own juices. He pressed his lips to her folds and slid his tongue over her entrance. Above him, Elain moaned. He felt her squirming as she tried to take off her slip while Lucien worked, and he felt her settle back down as she succeeded. He sucked slightly, grazing his teeth on her sensitive skin, making her moan again. From the corner of his eye, he was aware of her arms flailing, trying to decide where to go.

He paused for a moment and lifted his head. She made a displeased sound. “My, my, so demanding,” he said, kissing the inside of her thigh. “I just want you to know that you don’t have to worry about me—pull my hair, thrust your hips. I can keep up.” She breathlessly agreed, and Lucien returned his mouth to her sex.

She didn’t quite start riding his face but one of her hands did go to his head, threading through his hair, almost like she was using him as an anchor. He closed his eyes as he worked, listening to the sounds she made as his tongue pressed into her, his thumb working the pearl at the top of her slit. He tweaked it and she gasped, bucking her hips involuntarily just as he had done before. He chuckled, moving his head with her body.

As Elain approached her climax, Lucien listened to the way her breaths became quicker and more labored. Her climax…fuck he wanted to see her climax. She sounded close, so Lucien quickly lifted himself from her sex, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers in reverse of what she had done for him earlier.

It didn’t take her much longer to finish. She met his gaze just before she did, eyes glazed with pleasure and love. She seemed to understand why he watched, and she held his gaze until her orgasm overtook her, sending her eyes shut. By the mother, the way her beautiful face looked in orgasm—cheeks flushed, eyes shut, mouth moaning his name—Lucien could have died right then and been totally content. He would be revisiting this moment in his mind, he knew, whenever they were parted.

He continued massaging her folds and clit as she rode out her orgasm, feeling the contractions around his fingers begin to slow. Elain fell back as her climax waned, breathing heavy. Her hips settled back to the floor and her legs splayed out flat. He slid his fingers out of her and licked her juices off of them. Elain watched him from her pillow, eyes half-lidded.

“That’s kind of gross,” she whispered. The words sounded like an enormous effort.

Lucien grinned at her. “I can’t help how good you taste.” Her only response was a shy giggle. She looked tired, blissed out. Lucien’s cock was at full attention again, but if she was done for the night, he would respect that. “Do you want to continue?” he asked gently, pushing some of her hair aside. He could spend forever deciding where his favorite place to put his hands was—through her hair, on her breasts, on her hips, in her core.

“Yes,” Elain said, still sounding breathless. “I just need a moment to recover.” She reached her arms up to him. “Kiss me?”

“You sure?” he asked, settling onto his side beside her then rolling so he was hovering over her. “I’ll still taste like you.”

“That’s okay,” Elain said, blinking brown eyes still raw with affection. So Lucien obliged, kissing her again, deeply, tasting the faint remnant of himself in her mouth and letting her taste the remnants of herself in his. They kissed slow and sure, and Lucien brought one hand up to gently massage one of her breasts. Elain sighed happily against him. Her breathing had settled and she was getting active again, threading her fingers through his hair, sliding her hands over his torso. Lucien rolled her nipple and gave it a light pinch, much lighter than how he had squeezed them earlier. Elain still reacted, and Lucien relished in the scent of fresh arousal from between her legs.

“Are they still cold?” he teased, moving his other hand around to roll her other peaked nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

“No,” Elain gasped.

Lucien made a thoughtful sound. “But they’re still so hard. Surely you must feel a chill, for them to stand so thoroughly at attention.”

“Do you feel a chill then?” she countered. “For I seem to not be the only one hard and thoroughly at attention.” She brushed one hand against his shaft, which twitched in response.

He chuckled. “If this is me in a chill, darling, imagine how big I must be when I’m warm.”

“Braggart,” she breathed, leaning up to catch his mouth with hers again. She seemed to be recovering quickly, so Lucien dipped one hand between her thighs. He found her still wet, but not as ready as he wanted her to be when he entered her—not for his pleasure, but for hers. Even if this was not her first time, he would make sure it didn’t hurt her.

He pulled his mouth from hers and redirected it to her breasts, taking one into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the nipple. Encouraged by the way she tangled her fingers more tightly into his hair and lifted her chest to him, he worked eagerly, tending to one breast and then the other as she moaned happily. He slid his hand over her entrance again and found her much more ready. He pushed himself up, lining the head of his cock up to her core. Her hands found his biceps, fingers tightening.

“Are you okay?” he asked, though the feeling of her soaked cunt on the tip of his dick was about to send him into madness.

“Yes,” Elain said, looking down to where he had readied himself. That faint nervousness had returned to her eyes.

“Are you sure?” he insisted. He wouldn’t enter her unless he was certain she wanted it. He didn’t want her to feel pressured to agree.

“Yes,” Elain repeated. “You’re just…much bigger than he was.”

A thoroughly proud, male growl tore itself from Lucien’s chest, and he thrust into her. Did she know how deeply, primally arousing it would be for him to hear his mate admire his size, to tell him that he was bigger than the other male she’d had? He normally liked to think himself a self-assured, civilized male who didn’t care about such things, but here, now, it was the sexiest thing she possibly could have said to him.

He didn’t immediately go the hilt. He gave her about a third, letting her adjust, but fuck she was tight. As Elain threw her head back and dug her fingers into his arms, and he dug his fingers into the rug on either side of her, restraining himself from slamming all the way in and fucking, fucking, fucking—

Elain bent her legs and moved her hands from his arms to his back. “Okay,” she managed, and Lucien slid in another third. She gave a high-pitched moan. Vassa and Jurian were going to hear them, he thought, if they hadn’t already, and he didn’t care. Elain clasped her thighs on either side of his hips, fingernails digging into his back, and Lucien finished sliding the full length of himself into her.

For a moment, they were still like that. Elain kissed him fiercely, madly, and between them Lucien felt light in the mating bond they tried so hard to ignore. Hesitantly, he brushed against it. Elain gave a little gasp, but then he felt a brush back. Mine. Yours. Mate.

And holy fucking Cauldron if this was how they felt now, what was their mating frenzy going to be like?

Just thinking about it, Lucien groaned and pulled back. Then he thrust in again to length, and Elain moaned again, louder this time. That wasn’t enough. He wanted to hear her scream.

A snarl escaped him and he began thrusting, faster now, one hand bracing himself on the ground and the other grasping at her hip, digging into the soft curve just like he had imagined before. It was even more satisfying than he had thought, and the look on her face, the rising crescendo of her moans, was building him towards a quick and powerful finish.

But he would make sure she was done first. With some effort, Lucien lifted himself up so he could take his hand from the floor and put his thumb to her clit, rubbing it in tight circles that matched the pace of his thrusts. Elain gasped his name, and then she began repeating it, her frenzied gasps turning quickly to desperate screams.

“That’s it, cum for me baby,” Lucien crooned, breathless himself. He dropped down over her, returning his hands to the floor, and thrust into her with everything she had.

She let out a jubilant cry and her walls pulsed in around him. Lucien let out a groan thick with power and released into her throbbing pussy, riding her through their joined climaxes. He didn’t know how long it took him to come down from that haze of pleasure—it might have been a century. But when his vision finally began to focus again and his mind began to clear, he pulled out of Elain. He realized he didn’t have a rag or anything to clean her, and he knew he should go get one but he was tired, his body the most pleasurably kind of exhausted.

“I don’t have anything to clean us up,” he said, sort of stupidly.

Elain laughed weakly. “That’s okay,” she said, her voice soft. “We can bathe together tomorrow.” The soft intimacy of her tone outweighed the naughtier ideas that Lucien was sure would come tomorrow, should they follow through with her suggestion. Elain patted the ground beside her. “Just come lay with me.”

Lucien obliged, grabbing another pillow and the velvet blanket. He set his pillow next to hers and pulled the blanket over them. Elain snuggled up to him, putting her head on his chest, right over his heart. She sighed, sounding as content as Lucien felt.

They lay in silence for a long time, catching their breaths. Lucien kept replaying the look on her face when she came, the way her eyes glowed with love and affection when they were done. Then Elain said, “Was I okay?”

It was a such a dumbfounding question that Lucien said, “What?” before he could stop himself.

Elain turned her head to peer up at him. “Was I okay? Especially when I…used my mouth? I don’t have much practice.”

Lucien tightened his arms and drew her face up to his. “How could you possibly think you might not have been okay? You were more than okay, Elain, you were…gods, incredible. I found myself thoroughly and pleasantly surprised by you tonight. Honestly I underestimated you, and I won’t make that mistake again.”

She blushed happily. “Good. I told myself I had to be bold, because you have three hundred years of experience to my just a few nights. And I wanted you to like it, with me.”

For a moment, Lucien was shocked. Then he kissed her and said, “Elain, you are my mate and my love. You don’t have to act any certain way to impress me, especially not in bed. I want you to act in a way that you like, not in a way that you think I like.”

“I did like it,” Elain admitted. “I felt kind of…powerful. Like I had you at my mercy.” She said the last words with a teasing tone.

Lucien kissed her again. “I have never been so utterly at someone’s mercy, my dear. And as long as you like acting so bold when we’re together, I have no complaints.”

She curled back up against him, and the warm crackle of the fire paired with the rain against the windows sent them soon after into sleep.

And when Lucien entered the kitchen the next morning to an extremely pissed-looking firebird and human general, he didn’t feel remorse in the slightest.

#elucien #elucien fanfic #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #acotar #acotar fanfic #acomaf #yall I wrote rainwater because I told myself I needed to get better at just writing drabbles #acowar #acosf #and it spawned this 6500 word behemoth #so in other words I'm fucking hopeless lol #my writing

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