#synchronize your time piece with mine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rainylana · 2 years

Text

“Yup, that’s my wife.”

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: this is a part two of “i think i’m in love.” i wasn’t even going to make another part but you guys all demanded it lmao.

for those who wanted tagged<3

@imdoingbetternow @imangy @ahzysauce

@moonymatt @your-starless-eyes-remain @catherinnn

warnings: omg this is so fluffy i can’t. some language, eddie and dustin being chaotic as hell. it’s just so cute lmao. i know nothing of dnd so that’s a warning all by itself.

a/n: honestly should i just make this a series?? i think i could figure out a way to continue to build it. idk, let me know! Also, my requests are open! send me something!

update! i did make this a series lol, part three is here

“She’s coming right?”

“What time did you tell her?”

“You think we should clean up a bit? It’s a shithole in here.”

“Fuck, she’s gonna hate it. I know it. Not even married yet and we’ve gotten divorced.”

The hellfire club was in shambles, running and zooming around the school basement preparing for your big arrival. Eddie’s heart raced as the clock ticked on, his fingers twitching at his sides to see you again. You’d left a sweet taste in his mouth all day long, his mind could not leave your gentle, smiling face. He knew he was falling head over heals, but could you blame him? He wasn’t used to any woman being interested in what he said, nor did they ever want to hang out with him. This was new, and he was going insane.

“Jesus, why am I dusting!” Mike coughed. “I don’t think she’s gonna care if there’s dust, Eddie. I mean, you’ve got Gareth and Jeff sweeping!”

“Shut up, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped his fingers, standing on the dnd table as he tampered with the light fixture. “We needed to clean up anyways, this just gave us an excuse.”

“I picked her some flowers!” Dustin smiled tooth-fully, bringing some wild flowers out of his back back.

“What! No!” Eddie jumped off the table, his feet smacking against the floor. “She’s mine, Henderson. I saw her first.”

“Technically, I did.” Mike crossed his arms, earning a synchronized ‘shut up’.

“Give me those!”

“Fuck no! Go pick some yourself, I think I saw some grass outside-”

Your knock sounded loudly throughout the room, causing flinches and everyone to shut the hell up. Dustin hurriedly placed the flowers on the table behind him, stepping forward to open the door, but he was snatched back by the collar as Eddie yanked him backwards.

“Mine, Henderson.” He whispered, giving the freshman a death glare. He fixed his hair anxiously, straightening his wrinkled shirt as he looked about the room. “Look presentable.” He ordered, and they blindly straightened their posture.

He took a deep breath, begging a god he didn’t believe in to get him through the night. He opened the door, his face melting into a smirk at the sight of you. “Looks like Barbie showed.” He said over his shoulder, and you giggled under his stare.

“Think I wasn’t going to show?” You asked, making your way into the room as he shut the door behind you.

“Don’t take it personally, kiddo,” He took your arm in his to give you the grand tour, and you blushed awkwardly with a sly grin. “You just keep blowing our minds every chance you get. Anyways! You remember Dustin.” He gestured with his other hand, smirking a villainous glare at the boy as he held your arm.

“Yes, hi! How are you?” You smiled, tilting your head.

“Hey, uh,” He cleared his throat, reaching behind him to grab the flowers. Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I actually picked-”

“I picked these for you.” Eddie snatched the flowers out of his hand, petals dropping to the floor. “Here. Hope you like- well, whatever these are.”

You chuckled at their interaction, observing the messy picked flowers in hand. “Thank you.” You looked to both of them, dropping Eddie’s arm as you turned around. “So this is the game?” Your eyes danced amongst the pieces, your hands ghosting over the dice and other figures.

Perhaps you were crazy, showing up for some supposed “demon summoning” board game with a bunch of people you didn’t know. But what did you have to loose? Besides, it had been many years since you felt comfortable with a group like this. Besides, you felt more at home with the outcasts than with anyone else. They were obviously flirty, you knew that from the get-go, but they were harmless. And you liked Eddie. He was handsome and funny, had a charismatic energy about him that made you feel welcomed. You didn’t feel that often.

Your presence stuck out in the room, and while you were focused on the game pieces, everyone was staring at you, their mouths hanging open as you brought the 20 sided dice up to your eyes. Eddie nearly fainted at the sight. Never once, had a girl touched those pieces. Never once, had a girl played dnd with him before. Oddly enough, it felt like a date to him.

You had on skinny jeans, a baby pink, long sleeve shirt that clung your body. Your hair was let loose, curls flowing down your back with a pink bow, resting on the back of your head. You had on little pearl earrings, a singular silver ring that had your birthstone on it. Emerald. August. Your white converse were spick and span clean, unlike everyone else’s.

“Is this the-” You went to ask again, but froze when you seen everyone’s eyes on you. You clamped your mouth shut, looking at Eddie awkwardly.

“Sorry,” Eddie scratched the back of his head. “Here, we should- let’s get started then!” He announced, embarrassed that he was caught staring.

“Hey,” Dustin poked your shoulder, whispering quietly as everyone got in their seats. “You can sit by me if you want.”

“Actually, Henderson,” Eddie nearly shouted over his sheep, standing at the head of the table. “She’s sitting on the throne tonight.” He smiled widely, his teeth reflecting off the light as he patted the throne, scooting out the chair.

Everyone gasped at the sight. No one sat in that chair besides him.

He took your hand to help you into the seat, quickly looking over your delicate ring. His looked a lot bigger. It was weird for everyone to see Eddie sitting beside you, in just a regular chair, but you, however, looked spectacular.

“Wow,” You giggled, stretching your hands out in front of you. “All I need is a crown.”

They chorused your laughter like obedient followers. You were the ruler now. Eddie’s little dungeon master in training. “So,” You looked to him. “Let’s play.”

His lips curled into a slow smirk. Yeah, he was definitely in love.

•

You were there for almost five hours, and sleep deprivation creeped in, though you didn’t care. Dungeons and Dragons was the coolest game you’d played since twister, and that was years ago. You had gotten so into it, and everyone cheered you on as you got your feet wet into the game.

It was hard to learn at first, but they walked you through every step and made sure you understood everything. Eddie practically held your hand throughout the entire game, like a parent worried their toddler wouldn’t survive without their grip. It shocked him how easily you were able to catch on, and even though you made a mistake here and there, or mispronounced something, he wouldn’t correct you.

It had gotten to the point where you were subconsciously flirting with him, though you weren’t even really aware of it. He just made you so comfortable, and for once in your life, you didn’t feel the need to fake having a good time. Your life was hard, harder than others, sometimes. You felt guilty for thinking that, because you knew you were lucky to have the family you did. Still, even with the family you had, you felt incredibly lonely. Tonight you didn’t though.

“Do you have a way to get home?” Eddie glanced up, finishing putting away the game pieces. Everyone had pretty much left, besides you two. You insisted on staying and helping clean up, so that meant that he was going to stay. Dustin didn’t even try to get a word in, it was obvious Eddie wasn’t going to budge. He politely said goodbye, awkwardly patting your shoulder and sending knives to his buddy. Or, ex buddy.

“I drove.” You smiled, pushing in chairs. “I don’t live very far away.”

He nodded, mouth opening and closing as he thought about what to say. “Are you- well, you plan on sitting with us tomorrow?”

“Oh,” You gulped, blushing. “I’d like to, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rushed, messing with his hair. “I like you. I mean, we like you. The kids and I. You’re pretty. Fun, you’re pretty fun!” He rambled, turning as he shoved the game box into a drawer.

You kept in your laugh, lips pursing together. “Okay.” You nodded, brushing off your hands. “Cool.”

You looked around for anymore trash, hoping to stay longer. “I guess I should go.” You grabbed your back, slinging it over your shoulder.

“Okay.” He walked over to the door, opening it for you. You stopped in front of him, and he smiled awkwardly. “Thank you for tonight.” You said genuinely, ignoring the urge to smile like an idiot. “I mean it, I had a lot of fun. You think I could play again sometime?”

His heart leaped, eyes growing into heart shapes like a damn cartoon character. “Yeah! Of course, sure. I’ll even get you a crown for next time.” He chuckled while you did the same.

You didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want you too, either. You knew you’d die of embarrassment later, but you stepped closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in an awkward, yet sweet hug.

“Oh,” He muttered softly, stiffening at the contact. He brought up a hand to pat your back, pursing his lips.

You pulled away and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Goodnight.” He smiled, closing the door behind you. He listened to the sound of your shoes until he couldn’t anymore, and he sighed loudly and dramatically.

“Yup, that’s my wife.”

#stranger things season four #eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader

9K notes · View notes

raphaelsrightarm · 5 months

Note

Hi ! can I request a (dating) Donnie x Fem!reader ? just a fluff one shot with the two doing something cute and wholesome up to your choosing such as a movie marathon, making brownies together, his comfort when you have bad cramps etc.

Breathe

Is this corny? Maybe. Actually yes it absolutely is. It's a selfish piece of mine and I make no apologies

Once again I apologize for a long wait and I have multiple old requests that I am still working on so stay tuned haha

My first Donnie fluff let's get it

Words: 2031

Warning: None

You were laying on his chest when you realized he would match your breathing.

It was a rare kind of morning when he had left his lab behind and joined you in his own bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as he could. You folded into him so perfectly that it was hard for him to believe that there was ever another path for his life to take without you in it.

There were times when he would tease you when the swirls across his plastron would put indents on your face, but not today. Today he ran the tips of his lithe fingers along your spine, your shirt pooled at the back of your neck.

It was so rare to have these moments with him. To pull him from his desk and for him to let you do it, for him to leave behind his safe space. It wasn’t that he didn’t love these moments, he did. More than anything he did. But he was always worried about falling behind. His role was important, one that placed a weight on his shoulders that only you seemed to be able to free him of.

He was trying to force himself to sleep, you figured out. He hadn’t spoken since he made his way in here to you, pulling you against him and enjoying how warm you were from being wrapped in his comforter all night.

You inhaled deeply against him, feeling him do the same. You had been rising and falling slowly against his plastron all morning, not yet noticing the synchronization.

He didn’t seem to realize he was doing it, either. His rolling hand along your back had slowed to a stop, his eyes were gently shut. He had finally managed to fall asleep, his warm arm laying limp across you like a quilt.

His breathing had taken on its own rhythm then, but that didn’t stop you from attempting to further prove your theory.

He appeared in your window the next evening as you were baking cookies. Everything was set out, scattered across the countertops. His eyes took in the explosion of baking supplies before him before finding you in the middle of it. Your expression a mixture of determination and frustration.

“You know,” He started, reveling in the smile you had when you saw him. “People say baking is supposed to be a relaxing activity.”

“Well, the people who say that are the people who are good at it.”

He moved closer to inspect your workstation, his finger running a line through a patch of what might either be flour or baking soda, both of which you had spilled.

“I know it’s a mess.” You started, but before you could utter an apology at the state of the place, he smiled, shaking his head.

“Who are these for?” He walked behind you, grabbing dirty measuring spoons and bowls and moving them closer to the sink.

“They could be for you, if you clean up after me when I’m done.”

He made a show of looking around the kitchen, turning his head to the mess he had congregated to the sink, as well as the surfaces of the counters covered in powder. “I’m not sure I’ll be having any.”

You scoffed. “It’s not that bad.”

“Is this supposed to be on?” He gestured toward the oven, and only then did you realize you meant to begin preheating it when you started. The grin on his face meant he already knew the answer, so you turned your head back toward the bowl. Yet still grateful as you heard the oven beeping behind you as he set the temperature.

After a few minutes the batch of cookies was in the oven, leaving nothing but 15 minutes to glare at the destroyed kitchen which, as part of the deal, Donnie had begun helping clean up.

“I don’t understand how you can make a mess like this.” He said, picking up another measuring spoon, adding it to the pile of others to be washed. “Why did you need so many of these?”

“Need is maybe not the most accurate word.” You had the bag of flour in your hands when the possibility came to your mind. It was more of a thought that wouldn’t go away, one that you want to act out even though you knew you shouldn't.

Before you could stop yourself, you hand drifted into the bag, gathering up a small pinch of flour as you walked closer to him. He glanced up to you, unaware of what was coming, just before you flicked the flour toward him.

You both watched as it barely drifted against him, yet the challenge that sparked in his eyes

You made a useless attempt to save yourself. “That was an accident,” though saying it through fighting a stubborn laugh didn’t help.

“I’m sure it was.” He took a step toward you, a smile pulling against his lips. You planned on sprinting around into your living room, maybe even making an attempt to lock yourself in the bathroom. You realized just a moment too late just how long his arms were, and they wrapped around your waist before you could register it.

He practically tucked you underneath his elbow, freeing his other arm so he could, to your horror, reach his hand into the bowl of flour.

“Don’t you dare.” You tried to make it sound like a threat, but your breath was short from laughter. Either way, it was a plea that landed on deaf ears as a flick of flour throughout what little space was left between the two of you. You clenched your eyes shut as it scattered across your face. He released you then, laughing so hard you heard him snort.

You feigned offense, slowly reaching into the bowl yourself. You knew well that he could’ve been halfway across the room by the time you threw a handful of the powder back at him, yet he stayed where he was, the two of you laughing like children as the counters and surrounding floor became covered in a sprinkling of white dust.

After a while, you doubled over, holding a hand on the counter as you tried to catch your breath. He placed a hand on your back, and slowly, suspiciously, you straightened out.

You were greeted with a soft smile on his flour patched face, and you knew that if he had gotten hit that you must have been worse. He reached his hand up and ran a thumb across your cheek in an attempt to dust some of it off.

“Have fun cleaning this up.” You said as he laughed again as he pulled you against his chest, your nose pressed to the underside of his jaw.

“That could be a fun thing to do together.”

“Who said anything about us doing it together? We had a deal.”

“We never shook on it.”

The two of you stayed in this moment, ignoring the chaos around you. You searched for it again then, taking in a deep breath, and feeling him do the same. Each breath he took a loving mimic. He felt you smile against his skin, and all he did was hold you tighter.

It was a few days later when you struck a deal with him that if he were to leave his desk behind he would be the one to decide what the two of you do. He had chosen movies, secretly because it meant he didn’t have to stray far from his work.

Though, it wasn’t much of a secret anymore. There had been nights before when you thought you had been able to convince him to leave his lab to get some rest, only for him to sneak away the second you fell asleep. But tonight would not be one of them.

The two of you had taken up the couch, his brothers making themselves scarce, which you were sure was Donnie’s doing, though you didn’t mind. He held you closer when no one else was around, his hands always absentmindedly massaging your skin.

He had decided upon the first Iron Man film, which was playing before the two of you. You were certain it was because he had seen it already so many times, and he would be ready with slipping back to his work.

At least he thought he would be, until you decided you wanted to lay on top of him instead of next to him.

It started with you draping your leg over his. Which he didn’t seem to mind, his hand going to rest easily on your knee.

Then it turned into shifting to your side to place both your legs over his, hanging them between his knees.

“What are you up to?” He whispered, his arm that was wrapped around you moving to run his fingertips across your shoulder blades. You shrugged at him, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

The two of you stayed like this for a while, the movie half finished, before you flexed your knees, pulling yourself further onto his lap. He didn’t stop you, instead let out an amused sigh. You dramtically draped over the front of him, legs hanging over his, arms laying out over his sides. His hands went to their usual places on your torso as you felt him relax into the couch, resigning to his new fate.

“You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”

Your smile answered his question. “Now you’re stuck here.” You kissed his cheek. “With me.”

“I guess there are worse things.” His chest rising once again to match yours for a brief moment, his hands pressed to your ribs. “But not by much.”

He laughed as you playfully swatted at his arm.

His laughter had warped into a song to you. You blamed it on sleep deprivation and simply being wrapped up beside him for so long.

He had texted you earlier that night to meet him on top of your roof and to bring a coat. When you had arrived, you saw how he had set up a little nest for the two of you. Blankets piled up beneath the two of you and draped over top. He had set up a projector, and the two of you watched a movie before turning attention to the sky, and what few stars you could see.

The air had bite to it, and you pressed closer to him under the blankets than you were already. You were taking turns pointing out constellations for a while, before you began making up your own. Partly for entertainment, but mostly so you had more reason to stay out here.

“That one looks like Elton John,” He said, pointing to a random cluster of lights in the sky.

“You’ve said Elton John already.”

“No I haven’t.” He traced the shape. “That’s his head, those are his glasses. Stars already.”

You laughed again. “Ok, that one looks bigger than the other ones, that one’s the north star.”

“That’s not north.” He squinted. “And I think that’s an airplane.”

“What?” You noticed then the blinking light tracing behind it, blaming your exhaustion on missing it the first time. “Oh.”

He laughed until he snorted, and you knew he must be tired as well. You found he laughed much easier when he hadn’t slept in a while. You knew the two of you should head inside soon, a safer spot to rest. But this night had been so nice, neither one of you wanted to mention the idea.

“That one is Casseopeia.” You pointed to the same spot you had been pointing to all night, no longer even attempting to be correct.

“Casseopeia also points north, dove.”

“And that’s not north?”

He laughed again, tightening his hold around you. Your eyes became heavy, and you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of him so close to you.

It was then you decided to confirm your theory once more, taking in a large breath of the chill air. He followed a second behind.

You smiled, drifting off to sleep wrapped within the safety of his arms.

#tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #bayversetmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donnie 2016 #tmnt donnie 2014 #tmnt donnie fluff

240 notes · View notes

dreamingonfilm · 1 year

Text

✧˖*°࿐ Cherry Wine | d.m

Draco Malfoy x reader, fluff

Summary: Spring mornings spent dancing with Draco. Both of you taking in the love you have for each other.

A/N: this was inspired by Cherry Wine by Hozier <3

w/c: 800

He watched as you continued to run around the field, your hair all over the place as your bare feet hit the cold ground below you. Your skirt was flowing behind you as you continued to spin and sway, taking in the beauty of your surroundings. The way that the sun's light was slowly peeking over the horizon, the way that the breeze shook the leaves off the trees that surrounded you, and the soft melody that played as you danced.

Draco took in everything. The way that the fore pieces of your hair stuck to the front of your face, how the Earth seemed to thank you each time you took a step, the way your laugh seemed to harmonize with the breathing of the flowers – he could do this for the rest of his life.

“Draco,” you spoke, breaking the air around you. You stopped dancing and walked up to him, leaning over to reach the ground he sat on - your hair falling on both sides of your face as you went to make eye contact with him.

“Hmm?” he hummed, brushing your hair behind your ear before leaning forward to give you a kiss on the nose.

“Dance with me.” You smiled, grabbing his hands and pulling him up. Despite him being perfectly content with just watching you, he got up anyway. Hand in hand you both walked over to where the music sang. You watched as he shifted back and forth, you could tell that he was nervous, but you tried your best to get him comfortable.

The next song started and you immediately closed your eyes to start dancing, throwing your head back and forth as your movements seemed to synchronize with the melody. He watched your erratic movements, the way you seemed to move freely without a care in the world. He was mesmerized. When you finally went to look at him, he was standing stiffly and awkwardly, to anyone else it would have seemed as if you two were meeting for the first time.

“Draco,” you took his hands in yours, “just let go.”

“Let go?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows with a puzzled look on his face.

“Close your eyes and dance. Don’t think about it. It’s just us two.” You said, giving him a warm smile. Even though he was confused, he tried to take your advice.

He took off his shoes and placed them next to yours. The dirt felt strange under his feet, and while he normally would be thinking about how uncomfortable this was, or how he would have to take another shower once he got back to his dorm, all he could do in this moment was stare at you.

Slowly, he let go of all his stress and started dancing with you. You laughed silently as he tripped over his own feet a few times, eventually going on to take his hand and guide him. Both of you moved in unison.

After a few songs, the sun started to peak in through the gaps on the trees, illuminating both of your faces as you continued to dance and laugh. You both felt the same, enjoying each other's company in the most simple way. In all honesty, it didn’t matter what you were doing, so long as you were together.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” He finally spoke. As you stared, you couldn’t help but notice how he was getting teary eyes. You brought your thumb up to his eyes and wiped away the tears that were falling, giving him a small smile.

“My love, I'm always going to be here. Why are you crying?” You asked as he continued to brush your hair with his fingers, attempting to take the grass and leaves out.

“I just can’t believe I got this lucky.” He kissed your forehead. You felt butterflies all through you, the same ones that have been prevalent for the past year that you two have been together. Your love for this boy was one that came without words. No amount of time could ever be enough, this was a love that was meant to last for eternity, outliving both of you.

“You are not lucky, Draco. You’re mine and I am yours. This is something we both know.” You whispered. He leaned in to give you a kiss, tasting your cherry chapstick and the pancakes you had for breakfast.

Soon enough the rest of the world woke up, signaling that it was time for both of you to leave. The sweetness following you two as you went to put your shoes on. Side by side you walked back towards the castle with the sunlight and birds singing, comforted by the fact that wherever you go he would be there too.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco fanfic #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #fanfiction

537 notes · View notes

mdzsfan · 5 months

Text

Unspoken Bonds Part 5 *NSFW

GIF by jay070490 on tenor

Lan Wangji's longing for y/n burned like a fervent flame, a molten intensity that seemed to transcend the very boundaries of their beings. The air around them was charged with a palpable electricity, an unspoken promise of the passions about to unfold.

As their lips met in a passionate collision, it was as if time itself held its breath, allowing their souls to entwine in a dance of heated fervor. Y/n's response was nothing short of exquisite; her heart's rhythm synchronized with his, an unspoken symphony of desire echoing in the chambers of their chests.

Their connection deepened as she found herself instinctively drawn to his lap, a throne of desire where she perched with a grace that mirrored her essence. The subtle friction of their bodies meeting sent shivers down their spines, a delicious reminder of the decadent journey they were embarking upon.

Yet, with every stolen kiss, the hunger within Lan Wangji's gaze grew, an insatiable appetite that mirrored his fervent heart. Each press of their lips was a confession, a silent proclamation of a love so intense that it defied conventional boundaries. The taste of her, the sensation of her breath mingling with his, fueled a wildfire within him that threatened to consume every fiber of his being.

It was as though he had tapped into a wellspring of desire, his once-controlled restraint giving way to an intoxicating greed. The layers of y/n's hanfu became the embodiment of his yearning, a metaphorical barrier that begged to be stripped away. With a mixture of urgency and reverence, his fingers sought the hidden clasps and ties, unveiling her form layer by layer.

The unveiling was a ritualistic unveiling of not just clothing, but of inhibitions, of doubts, of fears. Each piece that fell away was a testament to their shared vulnerability, a surrender to the emotions that had been building between them. The silk and satin cascaded to the floor, leaving her bared to his adoring gaze, a masterpiece of curves and contours that he had longed to explore.

As the last layer of fabric surrendered its hold, their connection became an unbreakable thread, woven from the strands of their souls. Their gaze locked, and in that shared moment, there was no room for shame or hesitation. Only the raw, unadulterated truth of their desires, a truth that beckoned them closer, binding them in a dance of fervent love and insatiable lust.

With a hunger that resonated deep within his core, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her delicate skin, igniting a trail of fire that coursed through her veins. His touch was a symphony of sensations, each note played upon the canvas of her being. Tenderly, he lowered his gaze, his eyes locking onto her bosom, a shrine of her femininity that beckoned to be worshiped.

He planted kisses like delicate blossoms upon her breasts, his lips bestowing a devotion that knew no bounds. His mouth explored every contour, every rise and fall, as if seeking to etch her essence into his very memory. Her breath quickened, a melody of desire escaping her lips, a sweet chorus of pleasure and longing.

"Wangji," her voice trembled, a melodic plea that hung in the air, woven with vulnerability and anticipation. "It's not fair," she whispered, her voice a soft caress, "I stand bare before you while you remain adorned in yours."

A commanding gentleness lingered in his gaze, his eyes ablaze with a possessive ardor that bespoke his longing. "No," he asserted, his voice a resonant echo of dominance, "You are mine."

As if guided by an irresistible force, his ardency deepened, his fervor leaving behind an indelible mark. His lips, now on a passionate quest, journeyed southward, bestowing fervent kisses that ignited flames of pleasure. With a deliberate hunger, he tasted her skin, teeth grazing against the peaks of her desires, leaving imprints of his ardor in their wake.

A symphony of sensations enveloped her as he ventured further, his lips descending like raindrops on parched earth. Her neck, that slender bridge between body and soul, became a canvas for his fervent artistry. His tongue danced upon her skin, tracing intricate patterns that spiraled into a crescendo of ecstasy, each movement a testament to his unquenchable yearning.

"Say it," his voice was a whisper, an enchanting spell woven into the fabric of their shared passion.

A quiver of pleasure escaped her lips, a harmonious response to the crescendo of sensations that his touch elicited. "I'm yours," she moaned, the words a surrender to the tidal wave of pleasure that engulfed her, an admission of her heart's deepest longing.

Embraced within the cocoon of their desire, he cradled her in his arms, their connection transcending the boundaries of the physical. The bed received their fervent devotion. With a deliberate tenderness, he bound her wrists together.

Blindfolded with the ribbon that adorned his forehead, she surrendered herself to him, her vulnerability a testament to the trust that flowed between them. Stripped of physical coverings, she stood bared not only in body but also in the profound vulnerability of her heart, a canvas upon which he painted his love. Wangji," she murmured, a soft pout gracing her lips as her doe-like eyes were veiled beneath the silk embrace of a forehead ribbon. A ribbon that concealed her vision yet unveiled the deepest recesses of her yearning heart.

A flicker of something in his gaze, a smoldering ember of want, stirred as he corrected her, voice low and commanding, "Address me as Hanguang-jun." The words dripped from his lips with a potency that resonated through the room, a command as much as a declaration of his dominance. His hand moved with purpose, tightening the ribbon gently but firmly, ensuring that her sight remained shrouded, her sense of sight relinquished to the whims of the unknown.

Yet, his gaze lingered upon her form, tracing the contours of her body with a fervor that bespoke of an unquenchable thirst. The layers of his hanfu, once a symbol of restraint, now transformed into tools of seduction, fell away like the petals of a forbidden flower. Each fold revealed a glimpse of his taut, sculpted physique, each bared inch a declaration of his intent to unravel not just her clothing but her very inhibitions.

Their hunger for each other was palpable, an electric current that surged through the air, leaving no space for inhibition. As he gazed into her eyes, a primal fire ignited, consuming every rational thought and kindling the flames of their most forbidden fantasies as she licked his cock.

The tug of her hair sent a shiver down her spine, a prelude to the intense sensation that was to follow. Her breath hitched as a mixture of anticipation and excitement swirled within her, a storm of emotions that mirrored the tempestuous passion building between them.

As the crescendo of their fervent embrace approached its zenith, he surrendered to the intoxicating tide that surged within him. A guttural moan escaped his lips, a testament to the building storm of ecstasy that could no longer be contained. With a primal urgency, he released the essence of his desire, a molten offering that spilled forth and cascaded into her waiting mouth.

Her lips enclosed him in a fervent embrace, a willing vessel for his ardor. The taste of him was a heady cocktail of passion and submission, a sensation that seared itself into her senses and left her craving more. The flicker of hesitation was swiftly consumed by the flames of her own burgeoning appetite, and she drank him in with an eagerness that mirrored his own unrestrained yearning.

His gaze, heavy-lidded with a hunger that could not be denied, locked onto her. It was a gaze that stripped away all pretense, baring the raw intensity of his desire for her. As her struggle to accommodate the intensity of his offering became evident, a surge of possessive pleasure coursed through him, igniting the smoldering embers of dominance that lay just beneath the surface.

She quivered, a mix of sensations coursing through her as she battled to fully embrace the potent intimacy of their connection. "Too much!" she managed to gasp, the words a mixture of surrender and defiance. The vulnerability in her voice only served to stoke the fires of his lust, reaffirming his grasp on the reins of their shared passion.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a hint of wicked amusement dancing in his eyes. "You can keep going," he murmured, his voice a velvet caress that held a command she couldn't resist. With a mix of anticipation and trepidation, she felt his firm hand against her head, a directive that propelled her to take him deeper once more.

With a controlled release, Lan Wangji relinquished his grip on her head, a silent signal of the transition from one layer of their connection to another. As his fingers tenderly guided her hands to encircle his neck, they embarked on a journey of shared intensity that would etch its memory into their very souls.

Her touch, tentative yet determined, conveyed a yearning that mirrored his own. With a surge of fervor, he surged forward, allowing the entirety of his arousal to claim her with a force that bordered on the primal. The initial sensation of his entry was an electric shock that rippled through her, setting her nerves ablaze and erasing the line between pleasure and aching need.

The rhythm they established of desire, a primal cadence that echoed the tempo of their racing hearts. His thrusts were a potent blend of dominance and intimacy, each movement a declaration of his ownership of the moment, of her very being. The sensation of him pushing in and out, a carnal ebb and flow, was intoxicating, a visceral reminder of the depths to which they were willing to descend in their pursuit of the ultimate ecstasy.

With every powerful thrust, her body responded in kind, a dance of submission and voracious craving that left her senses reeling. Her eyes fluttered and then rolled back, a visual testament to the waves of sensation that coursed through her, leaving her breathless and teetering on the precipice of something sublime. Beads of sweat traced erratic paths down her forehead, glistening like precious jewels in the ambient light, a testament to the fervor that consumed them both.

A moan, deep and fervent, spilled from her lips, the syllables a mixture of plea and surrender. "Please," she gasped, her voice laden with a desperate need that held an unspoken promise of release. The sheer vulnerability of her plea was met with a sly chuckle, his voice a dark velvet that cut through the air like a dagger of desire. "Use your words," he goaded.

The plea for release hung in the air like an unspoken promise, a crescendo of need that defied the constraints of language. And in response to her fervent appeal, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her tear-stained cheeks. The taste of her salty tears was mingled with the taste of their shared desire, a heady cocktail that threatened to unravel them both. "Together," he murmured, his words a whispered command that ignited a surge of anticipation within her.

As their bodies moved in a synchronized rhythm, the culmination of their fervor loomed on the horizon, a climax that held the promise of release and fulfillment.

"No more," y/n whimpered, her plea laced with desire and urgency, her body quivering from the lingering waves of climax that had just washed over her.

As his eyes met hers, smoldering with a mixture of tenderness and hunger, he leaned in with deliberate intent. His body pressed against hers, his hardness finding its way back to her warmth. The moment their flesh met, an electric jolt of anticipation coursed through her, igniting embers that had never truly extinguished. She was a willing captive in his embrace, yearning for more of the exquisite agony and pleasure he so expertly bestowed upon her.

With a commanding yet achingly tender hold, Lan Wangji guided her movements, their bodies were in a synchronized rhythm of desire. He claimed her lips in a kiss that was as fierce as it was intoxicating. His lips moved against hers with a controlled urgency, and his tongue danced with hers, igniting a fire that seemed to burn from deep within her core.

Her gasp was swallowed by the voracious kiss, and in the midst of their passion, his lips traced a fiery path down her neck, leaving a trail of bites and nips that marked her as his. The mixture of pleasure and pain was an intoxicating elixir, heightening every sensation and melding their souls together in a way that was both primal and profound.

With each rhythmic thrust, the ache between her legs intensified, the boundaries between agony and ecstasy blurred into an exquisite fusion. Lan Wangji's skilled hands roamed her body, igniting every nerve ending with their possessive touch. He was her tormentor and her savior, the architect of her deepest desires and the sculptor of her most intense pleasure.

As their bodies moved in unison, a symphony of moans and gasps painted the air, a testament to the passion that bound them. In this timeless moment, y/n existed solely in the realm of sensation, her senses overwhelmed by the symphony of touch, taste, scent, and sound that enveloped her.

Their bodies glistening with the aftermath of their shared passions, y/n and Lan Wangji found solace in each other's arms, their bare forms pressed close in an intimate embrace. The air was thick with the heady scent of their desires, a tangible reminder of the boundaries they had crossed.

As the hushed moments passed, y/n's voice emerged, a delicate murmur that cut through the lingering traces of their shared ardor. "A-zhan," she breathed, her tone a mixture of wonder and uncertainty, "Do you realize the path you chose? Is it not forbidden for a master and servant to share such a connection, to be so intimately intertwined, especially between a maid like myself and a person of your status?"

Lan Wangji, his gaze soft yet resolute, responded with a gesture that transcended words. His hand reached out, gentle fingers entwining with hers, guiding her touch to the silken ribbon that adorned his forehead. It was a symbol of him choosing her as his wife.

As her fingers brushed against the fabric, a silent message passed between them, a declaration that defied societal norms and echoed with the depth of his emotions. He was claiming her as more than just a servant, more than just a passing desire. He was acknowledging her as a cherished part of his world, a connection that went beyond the constraints of their roles.

Tears welled in y/n's eyes, shimmering with a mixture of emotions too profound to contain. His lips, tender and compassionate, brushed against her cheeks, tasting the salt of her unshed tears. Each kiss was a soothing balm, a promise that he would wipe away not only her tears but also any doubts that clouded her heart.

With delicate reverence, his lips trailed a path from her cheeks to her neck, a journey that resonated with both tenderness and fervor. The sensations rippled through her, awakening the embers of desire that lay dormant within her once again. The space they occupied became a sanctuary of shared longing, where every touch, every sigh, was a testament to their unspoken bond.

In the hours of their clandestine love, y/n and Lan Wangji surrendered to their yearning once more, a union that defied societal norms but resonated with a resonance that was undeniably real. The world beyond their cocoon of intimacy faded away, leaving only their shared desires, their whispered promises, and the intoxicating rhythm of their intertwined souls.

#mdzs x reader #mdzs oneshots #mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi reader insert #cql #the untamed x reader #mo dao zu shi x reader #the untamed oneshots #the untamed reader insert #lan wangji x female reader #lan wangji x reader #lan zhan x female reader #lan zhan x reader #lan zhan

79 notes · View notes

belabellissima · 10 months

Text

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don't touch)

Summary: But in the end, it didn’t matter what Elain did to protect the puzzle - three pieces had been missing right from the start. They would never fall into place. Elain felt like that puzzle every time she saw Lucien, every time Feyre brought up his name, tried to push Elain into accepting him. She could see the image, see the outcome in her mind - the perfect life, the love, the children, the years together - but she wasn’t whole. She was lacking those pieces - the one thing that would make her the full image of a perfect, doting wife.

Or: The author saying ace!Elain rights.

Read on AO3 | For @elucienweekofficial

Word count: 7.7k

For all that Feyre did her best to push Elain toward Lucien, Elain knew deep down it would never truly work between them.

And that meant that for all Feyre considered them close, thought she could fix things and be one big happy family, she didn’t truly know Elain at all.

She was too swept away still in the joys of motherhood, of Nesta and Cassian finding their synchronicity too. She loved her family, and for the first time in her life, felt the kind of true contentment that had been denied to them all in that cabin. She cared, loved them so much, and wanted them all to feel just as blissful as her.

Elain couldn’t blame her, couldn’t fault her sister for it. She loved her too, and there was a part of her that wanted the happily ever after that Feyre expected would fall into place. But as far as Elain could see, it just wasn’t possible.

Back when Elain was only six years old, before their father had lost everything, one of his ships had come back with a new device from the continent. A cartographer had painstakingly painted in great detail a map of the known world onto a thin piece of veneer wood, polishing and varnishing it afterwards so it wouldn’t flake off or fade. And then he’d hired a carpenter to cut it into delicate interlocking pieces. The large map - wider than Elain was tall at the time - could be pulled apart into two thousand tiny pieces, packed into a box, taken anywhere, and be reassembled for convenience's sake.

Her father had told her it was called a marquetry puzzle, and had spent the rest of the day putting it together with her.

When the sun was low in the sky, they’d pulled the final remaining piece from the box, but the puzzle itself was left incomplete. Three pieces had been lost in the journey. Her father had been furious at the loss and immediately written a letter to the seller requesting a replacement or his money returned, and had never looked at the first puzzle again. Elain, on the other hand, had spirited away the map to her room so that she might hide it under her bed. Might bring it out and reassemble it whenever she grew bored, trace her finger along the edges and plot out the path she would take one day, when she would get to explore the world.

Nesta was always with Maman and Grandmere, after all, and four year old Feyre was too young to play with her, her fingers not able to work such tiny pieces yet. Even Elain still had trouble with them.

But in the end, it didn’t matter what Elain did to protect the puzzle - three pieces had been missing right from the start. They would never fall into place.

Elain felt like that puzzle every time she saw Lucien, every time Feyre brought up his name, tried to push Elain into accepting him. She could see the image, see the outcome in her mind - the perfect life, the love, the children, the years together - but she wasn’t whole. She was lacking those pieces - the one thing that would make her the full image of a perfect, doting wife.

Broken.

So she stayed away, and when Feyre brought it up, she withdrew into herself.

She planted her garden, adding new life to every empty place she could see. She baked, ensuring no one went without, and she did her best to pretend she was okay, that she didn’t ache in some soul-deep part of her for those lost pieces to be found.

She’d thought at first that she’d found it with Grayson. He’d charmed her, been so polite and witty when they’d danced, and the warmth of his hand on her waist had sent her heart fluttering for the first time in her life. He’d never made excessive mention of her beauty the way the other men with their covetous eyes did. He’d brought her live flowers when calling on her instead of a cut bouquet, listened to her speak about her interests, and seemed to find in her an equal. And Elain had thought, yes. This. This is what love is.

But then they’d been engaged, and he’d started letting those touches linger. His hand went lower on her back, his eyes dipped to her mouth every time she talked. He’d press lingering kisses to her hand when she departed, and the look in his eyes sometimes sent her fleeing home in discomfort.

They were to be married, she’d told herself. She’d known it was coming, known eventually she’d have to go to his bed, bear his children. And she wanted that, wanted a family. But the idea of being touched didn’t appeal to her the way her governess had once said it might. She’d been warned her whole life not to give in to the sinful urges; she didn’t quite know what to do with the fact that she had never felt them for anyone.

But, given that it was to be an eventuality, she’d let Grayson charm her into his bed anyway. It hadn’t been bad, exactly. Her body had reacted to his touch, if not her mind. He’d taken care not to hurt her, to make sure she found her pleasure in the act. He was pleasing to look at too, in a sort-of objective, abstract way, the way one might admire art. But most of it had just been… tedious. Sweaty, and too loud, and repetitive, and… boring. She’d have much rather just spent the night reading by his side instead.

She didn’t burn for him the way he did for her, even though she loved him.

She’d loved him enough to give him that, to be willing to do so again in the future, but he’d not felt the same way, not after she’d been turned fae. He’d been too repulsed by her body to keep loving her, as if her feeling similarly for him hadn’t meant anything at all.

And all of it was happening at the same time as becoming someone's mate, someone she didn’t know and didn’t trust, who had no connection to her outside of that one moment he’d given her his coat, when any gentleman would have done the same. It wasn’t enough in the slightest.

And then years of awkward interactions, years of Elain witnessing the way her sisters sometimes went mindless with lust over their mates. Some cauldron-given connection intended to promote attraction, to give stronger offspring. Her brothers-in-law went nearly animal with it sometimes, nothing else mattering to them but the connection of their flesh with her sisters, with fucking them.

The word felt as horrid as it sounded. Nothing of making love, of finding a soul so similar to yours that life was infinitely better at their side.

But her sisters felt it too, reciprocated it. Craved it, in a way Elain had never seen from them before.

In a way Elain had never felt before.

She thought, at first, that it was lingering from her time as a human. They were more reserved in general than the fae, bound to social conventions and lineages.

And while Elain never craved the physicality, she did crave the connection.

She’d heard too much about the bond by that point to ever seriously consider Lucien. The idea of a frenzy, of him never being able to get enough of her, sent her pulse thundering with nausea and turned her skin clammy. And the way he’d watch her when he thought she wasn’t looking, with that same longing and desire for her that Grayson had at the beginning…

It drowned out the other thoughts. The ones that tempted her when the loneliness grew to be too much. He was beautiful in the way of nature - fire-bright and perfect, so long as it was never disturbed, never bruised by the touch of a covetous outsider. He had gotten along amicably with Feyre too, helped keep her alive even at the cost of his home, so she knew he was honorable and kind. Loyal to her, from what Feyre had said, even when they had never spoken before. Even now, when she continued to put distance between them, not realizing it was for both of their sakes.

He was patient and kind, resilient and witty; all things she had once loved about Grayson. He would be a fine match. One she could see herself falling for if she let herself slip for even a moment. But even then, Elain knew it would be soured by the frenzy, slowly rotting over the years as she forced herself through it.

So she fled to others. To the bars in Velaris, taking home people she ended up kicking out before they could do anything, unable to bring herself to feel anything for them. To Nuala at one point, though beyond one awkward kiss nothing had happened. To Azriel, who was quiet like her. Who listened, and never made her feel uncomfortable, never made her feel like he was expecting something of her she’d be unable to give. Who was so secretive about his lovers that Elain was convinced they didn’t exist and he was merely letting his family think they did to protect himself. She’d thought him the same as her for a long time, and it had been enough for her to risk opening her heart to him. To seek out his company. She had especially sympathized with him for being stuck with Nesta and Cassian. So for Solstice one year, she’d bought him ear-plugs, the kind that might provide relief the way they did to her when Rhys and Feyre grew too loud.

He’d given her a necklace in return, and when his fingers trailed her neck, Elain had shivered with the sudden awareness that she’d been wrong about him, that he wasn’t like her after all. He wanted her, and she… she wanted connection. She wanted to feel like nothing was wrong with her, wanted to prove to herself it was only lingering human sensibilities holding her back, not a lack of drive or passion. So she’d told him yes, watched the way his expression changed as he’d leaned down to kiss her.

She’d waited for him to do it, closing her eyes and holding her breath for the moment when it would all change, but it never came. He’d retreated instead, his shadows swirling angrily a few paces away as he told her it was a mistake.

A mistake.

Somehow, he’d known. His shadows had sensed it, or he could scent it on her, that her body was only reacting to stimulation, not to any actual desire on her part.

Yet again, she wasn’t enough for someone she thought she could love.

“I’m sorry,” she’d said. Sorry that she wasn’t enough, sorry that she didn’t truly want him physically, sorry that she was broken in a way that was apparently unforgivable to them. Sorry that she was relieved, too.

She’d given back the necklace later that night, while he was at the house of wind. Even with his joking and halfhearted complaining about Cassian and Nesta, he’d chosen to spend the night dealing with them, rather than sleep under the same roof as her. It might have been kinder, she thought to herself, if he had used truthteller instead of his actions to cut her heart.

To cut physical gaps in her, to make it obvious to everyone else what she already knew.

That she was empty inside. Not enough for anyone. Alone, and doomed to remain that way.

A puzzle with pieces missing.

---

“Shit!” Elain hissed, drawing her finger to her mouth quickly as it flared with pain, the faint red mark of a burn visible when she looked. Her oven mitts apparently had a hole in them, which she’d just found out the hard way. She grabbed a towel to cover the hole, finishing up removing the cinnamon and apple pie from the oven before sticking her hand under a bit of water.

She could see the back garden through the window over the sink, spotless in white from the snowfall that had been collecting for the past three days.

There was the faint sound of wings a moment later, then a shadow over the sparkling snow as Azriel flew away. Elain’s good mood - which had persevered throughout the burn - faded. He’d still not talked to her since that disastrous Solstice one year earlier, and though she loved her family and wanted to spend time with them, she wasn’t looking forward to being stuck in a room with him all night either.

Behind her, someone coughed, trying to get her attention. Elain whirled, heart sinking as she took in the red hair and metal eye, the stunning face it accompanied. Lucien had arrived while she was daydreaming, managing to sneak up on her with a plate of food in his hands. He glanced out the window too, something bitter crossing his face for a heartbeat before he hid it.

“Feyre told me you were collecting all the food in here first,” he said, gazing at the counter where the solstice meal was being laid out, platter by platter as Elain finished them. The pie had been done first so that it might have enough time to cool and set properly, while the turkey was halfway done, and the side dishes were prepped to be put in the oven soon. Dinner would be served in an hour and a half, and she intended for everything to be either hot and fresh or perfectly chilled when everyone sat down to the table.

She hadn’t realized Lucien was coming.

She’d been cooking everything today, even requesting that Nuala and Cerridwen not help and allow her to be alone with her thoughts for the day. Had she known, she would have never made such a request.

Lucien’s eye twitched, clearly hearing her pulse ratchet up in her chest.

He stepped into the kitchen fully, heading toward the food.

“No!” she blurted, also stepping forward with the intent of blocking him. He couldn’t eat the food; she wouldn’t let him. Lucien jerked to a halt, wide eyed.

“No?” he repeated, confused. “Then where?”

Where? Elain shut her mouth with a click. The food, of course. He was only putting down the dish he had brought, not attempting to eat what she had made and trap her in a frenzy.

Elain shook her head slightly. “Nevermind,” she muttered, shame heating her cheeks. “You can put it there.”

Lucien stepped closer cautiously, like he expected her to yell at him again. She watched his hands as he set his food down - some casserole dish with what looked like pumpkin and corn. When he pulled back, he kept his hands visible, and she glanced up to his face just in time to see him hide his irritation.

“I’m not going to take any,” he said. “It’s why I bring my own food, alright?”

Elain forced her shoulders to loosen, raising her chin and giving him a bland smile. “Of course,” she said, turning her back to him. He’d been doing it for every “family” dinner for the past two years, and normally Elain wasn’t as worried he’d try something. But seeing Azriel for that half moment had jarred her, apparently, into forgetting that fact.

“I’ll see you tonight, then?” Lucien asked.

Elain hummed, not facing him as his footsteps faded away.

Tonight. Elain sighed, bracing her hands on the counter and hanging her head. It was just one more thing to dread.

---

The dinner passed with the expected awkwardness, though Elain was grateful that Cassian and Nesta were there to draw most of the attention. They were in the middle of a disagreement, bickering playfully about children of their own. Rhys and Feyre were on Cassian’s side, wanting a little cousin for Nyx soon, but Nesta was stubbornly holding out. Elain passed her an extra slice of pie, smiling at her older sister when Nesta looked over and sending her a wink.

Nesta smiled back in that small way of hers, accepting the dessert and immediately digging in. Elain knew Nesta agreed with Cassian in her heart, and had seen visions of their future daughter many times, but Nesta also lived for the thrill of the chase, to see how long she could hold out and fight. Cassian knew it, too - he never would have brought up the subject if they hadn’t already discussed it privately in depth. But he lived for the thrill of the fight, and there was nothing he loved more than finally getting Nesta to admit what she wanted, getting her to give in and take what he was giving.

Throughout it, Lucien refused to look at her. Azriel kept stealing glances.

Elain hadn’t gotten either male a gift this year - she never got one for Lucien, and she was still too hurt by Azriel to have made such an overture again - and the gift-giving passed quickly, if a little tense from the lines everyone could see had been drawn.

Nyx began fussing close to eight, already past his bedtime and not happy about it, so Feyre and Rhys departed up the staircase to put him to bed, while Nesta and Cassian left to celebrate the holiday on their own. Nesta’s friends hadn’t been able to make it, though Elain knew they were waiting for the couple back in the house of wind. Mor begged off next, still exhausted from her trip back from the continent, as if she’d done anything more than wait for Azriel to arrive and get her. And Amren simply vanished, there one second and gone the next, her small stature used to her advantage as she ducked out of the townhouse and back to her own apartment. Lucien cleared his throat in the resulting silence, standing from his lone seat in the corner and disappearing into the kitchen with his own tray and a halfhearted excuse about doing the dishes.

Leaving Elain and Azriel alone.

His shadows hid behind his wings, judging her like they always did.

“You look… nice,” he said. “The dress suits you.”

Elain shrugged demurely, not really wanting to talk with him. “Feyre gave it to me.” In the kitchen, the water turned on and dishes began to clang - Lucien doing his best to not have to listen to Elain talk with Azriel.

Azriel’s lip curled, eyes narrowing in the direction of the open door. “Could he be any louder with that?” he asked lowly. “Leave it to a Vanserra to inte-”

“Oh give it a rest, would you?” Elain snapped, cutting off the shadowsinger’s complaint. “What did Lucien ever do to you? Why do you hate him so much?”

Azriel only allowed himself to look stunned for a moment. “He’s a Vanserra, why wouldn’t I hate him?”

“Because he’s a perfectly decent male who can’t help the father he was born to any more than the rest of us,” Elain said. She knew from a vision he was a Spellcleaver, that Azriel had been told by Rhys as well, but what she had said would be more impactful to the shadowsinger. Besides, Lucien didn’t know yet, and even with the water running, he could likely hear their raised voices.

“I thought you didn’t like him either,” Azriel challenged her. “That you wanted anyone else than your mate.” The bitterness there was surprising, because it had been Azriel who had rejected her, not the other way around. What right did he have to be angry about it, to still be jealous of a bond she could not control?

“I like him fine,” she said. “He’s quite nice, and he puts up with everyone’s disrespect with more grace than you afford him. I’m just not attracted to him. I can’t give him the physicality he’ll want and need because of the bond, as you’re well aware, given it’s why you rejected me too.”

Azriel had only one tell for his surprise, and that was that he had no tells at all. He was so good at hiding himself most of the time, that if he was truly looking unphased, it meant he was in complete mastery of himself in that moment. It was intentional - people hated silence, so would continue to spill information if he left it there.

Even knowing that, Elain couldn’t stop herself from adding, “I’ll never be enough for him, just like I wasn’t enough for Grayson, or for you.”

“That wasn’t-” Azriel shook his head. “That’s not why I stopped. Rhys ordered me to stay away. It wasn’t that I didn’t want you.”

The fight rushed out of Elain in an instant. All this time, she had thought it her fault, not her brother-in-law’s meddling.

“Did he say why?” Perhaps he had heard her thoughts? Had wanted to protect her from something she wasn’t seeking.

Azriel sneered, his head jerking toward the open door of the kitchen, where the water and clang of dishes had fallen suspiciously silent. “Because you're his mate, and he could call a blood duel and ruin our alliances if I didn’t stop pursuing you.”

So it wasn’t protection, or at least not of her. Protection of court politics, prevention of war. But it was cruel, and disregarded Elain’s right to choose. Azriel’s right as well. But try as she might, she couldn’t fully be mad, not when it had spared her a night of pretending.

“Lucien wouldn’t do that,” Elain said tiredly, leaning back in her chair and casting her eyes upward, like if she squinted hard enough she might see Rhys and Feyre and Nyx through the ceiling.

“He certainly wouldn’t win,” Azriel added.

Elain met his gaze coolly. “He might,” she said. “He’s a warrior too, don’t forget that.” He burns, and you’re afraid of fire, she didn’t say aloud. “Besides, if you truly had fought him over the right to be with me, I never would have said yes. I’m tired of bloodshed, especially when you could have just talked to me. To him. And, given that you clearly wanted something I can’t give…”

“You owe him no loyalty,” Azriel said. “You can be with people other than him.”

“No, I can’t.” Elain said, letting out a disappointed, grieving sigh as he continued to not understand. “I’m not… like you. Sex isn’t important to me. I don’t really like it, don’t get anything from it. If you wanted me because of that, you were always going to be disappointed with the outcome. If you wanted me for company though, to be a partner by your side, that I can do.” She didn’t dare let any hope enter her voice. Maybe he’d be willing to try again, now that the truths were laid out between them.

She met his eyes, the question hovering there. But Azriel didn’t answer. He shifted his wings a little closer to his back as he turned his head away, shame visible.

Elain closed her eyes for a moment, drawing her strength back to her. “It wasn’t the reason then,” she said. “But it is now, right?”

He still didn’t answer.

“It’s fine,” she said, finally opening her eyes and standing from her seat. “I already knew I wasn’t enough for anyone. This doesn’t change anything as far as I’m concerned. You don’t have to feel guilty for it.”

“Elain…” He finally said, standing and reaching for her with one hand, but she shook her head, turning from him and heading up the stairs to her room.

“Have a good night, Azriel. Happy Solstice.”

---

In the dark hours of the night, Elain woke to a silent house. She reached for the cup of water at her bedside, but her hand grasped only empty air. She wasn’t sure what had woken her, but nothing felt wrong, so she quietly padded down the hallway and descended the stairs by memory. The moonlight lit the way up through the windows, and Elain took a moment to glance out at her garden. Snow was lightly falling again, giving a fresh dusting to the yard. She smiled, a vision of Nyx’s joy at playing in it the next day - and the snowball fight his father would be losing - floating through her consciousness before she brushed it aside and continued on her way.

The water was cold enough to chill her hand through the glass as it filled, and when she took a sip, she felt the cold trail through her throat to her stomach, sending a shiver through her. It didn’t help that her feet were bare, or that she hadn’t pulled a robe over her sleeveless nightgown. Gooseflesh erupted down her arms, and she absently rubbed one as she took another sip, hoping to settle it down.

“You’re cold.”

Elain shrieked in surprise, whirling around and barely managing to stop herself from dropping and shattering her glass. For the second time that day, Lucien had startled her while she stood at the kitchen sink. This time, he looked less put together, sleep rumpled and bleary eyed from being woken up, a blanket around his shoulders like a cloak, held together with one hand at his chest. It was adorable, though she’d never say such a thing aloud.

“Apologies,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I didn’t realize you were still here,” she said.

“My apartment is being reroofed,” he explained. “Feyre’s been letting me stay here until it gets fixed. Only three more days, if all goes well.”

Silence fell between them, until Elain shivered again and set the glass down, even if it meant one less thing between them. Lucien glanced down at her arms again, then pulled the blanket from his own shoulders, holding it out to her.

Hesitantly, she took it, wrapping it around her. She was immediately warmed, and the scent of woodsmoke and Lucien's apple shampoo surrounded her, just like that day in Hybern. Even the nightgown was similar. He must have thought the same, because he retreated a step, looking away apologetically.

“Thank you,” she said.

Lucien seemed to steady himself, brace himself for something. “Can I ask you something?”

Elain nodded. “I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

Lucien raised his eyes to hers, a determined glint in them as he spoke. “You avoid me whenever possible, and for a long time I’ve thought it was because it was me that unsettles you. But what you were saying earlier - am I wrong? Is your problem with me, specifically? Or with the bond itself? What it… causes?”

She could crush his heart so easily. It was thundering so hard in his chest, the sound pulling her in, and she knew one word from her would be the end of it. One lie to say it was him, push the blame onto someone else, rather than her own inadequacies.

The tension between them was thick, as Lucien waited for the answer, one way or another. As Elain debated which one to give.

She looked away from him as she decided, not wanting to see his face as she whispered, “The second one. It’s never been you.”

His relief was palpable in how he released his held breath, how he strode forward a few steps, hand reaching out for her of its own accord. He froze mere inches away from touching her, forcing his hand back down to his side.

“And if it weren’t for that, would you have been more open to me? To us?”

Elain didn’t like where the conversation was going, the way he seemed to be leading her into admitting something that might trap her. But she nodded anyway. His face lit up like the sun, that golden eye catching light and sparkling as if it wasn’t still hours until the sunrise.

He stepped closer again, and Elain backed up a step, her back hitting the counter, trapping her in place as he rested his hands on either side of her. No part of him touched her, but Elain swore she could feel him, feel the bond tugging on her ribs as he said, “I want to court you. Will you let me?”

She swallowed at his nearness, the warmth radiating off him. She could feel it even though the blanket around her shoulders, the ghosting of his breath on her face. But even then, it didn’t feel the same way as it had with Grayson or Azriel. She knew he had no intention of trying to steal a kiss from her, not right then. He just wanted to be next to her.

She shook her head. “I can’t. It’s not fair to ask that of me.”

“One meal,” he countered. “Lunch, tomorrow, to talk. To explain things. To see if we can make it work, please.”

“I’ll never accept the bond, you have to know that. We won’t work,” she started to say again, but he interrupted her.

“I don’t need sex, Elain. That is not a dealbreaker for me.”

For a moment, a kernel of hope sprouted within her, vicious and unrelenting like a blackberry bramble. She feared pricking herself on the thorns. “You don’t mean that.”

He ducked his head slightly, stealing her gaze so that she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. “I do.”

She could feel his conviction through the bond, and it made her weak. It made her want, more than she had in a long, long time. She wanted to believe in fairytales, in happily-ever-after’s and good things, in stories where the hero and the princess found love and never faced any problems.

She craved it, and here Lucien was, offering it on a silver platter. And Elain… even if it turned out he was wrong, that he hadn’t realized how hard it would be after time passed and she stuck to her words, she could have it for this short time.

What was the phrase again - better to have loved and lost? Better to pretend for however many months it took for him to break than to live the rest of her immortal life without even that lie to comfort her.

She leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder. He stiffened for only a moment, then let one hand drift up to rest between her shoulder blades.

“Okay,” she agreed softly. “One meal. Convince me.”

His other hand came up from the counter, and he tipped his head to the side to rest his cheek on the top of hers.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

They stood there in the silent dark until the clock chimed the top of the hour, when Elain finally pulled back from his embrace.

“Don’t make me regret this.” she said, before leaving him be and heading back up to her room.

---

Elain woke late in the morning, the events of the night coming back to her within moments of opening her eyes. In her chest, the little blackberry bramble bloomed, the roots spreading throughout her lungs, between her ribs, up her throat. She hacked away at it in her mind, trying not to get ahead of herself. Not to put too much stock in the outcome of the day, not to let the budding hope bloom into fruit just for Lucien to let her down - let it rot.

She shoved her blankets off her and padded into the bathroom, turning the water in the tap to scalding and sinking beneath the water. She held her breath for as long as she could, then rose and bathed, until her skin was hopelessly flushed. She couldn’t stand the cold, hated the way the water would turn her fingers and toes pruny if she stayed too long. She much preferred the heat, even if it hurt.

Cold water reminded her too much of the cauldron, and even though her transformation hadn’t been as violent as Nesta’s, it hadn’t been easy either. And on a day like today, with so much riding on luck, she wasn’t willing to start it off with a bad morning.

Lucien wasn’t in the house when she descended the stairs again; she hadn’t been able to hear his heartbeat at all since she’d woken. She knew he wasn’t backing out, and wondered where he’d run off to. What he might be doing.

When she turned inward, the bond between them was faint - he wasn’t even in the Night Court.

Rhys was gone as well, along with Azriel and Cassian presumably, for their annual snowball fight. Feyre was sleepily making tea in the kitchen, one shoulder of her cardigan hanging from a bruised and bitten shoulder. She glowed with happiness, and Elain couldn’t help the discomforted pursing of her lips from knowing what caused the marks.

“Good morning,” she said. Feyre blinked as she looked up, then smiled.

“Good morning to you too,” her sister said. Did you sleep well?”

Elain wondered for a moment if Feyre knew what had happened in the night, if she’d woken at some point and Elain had been unaware, too drawn in by Lucien.

“I did,” she replied, waiting to see if Feyre might push for more.

Feyre simply smiled at her again and returned to fixing her tea. Elain relaxed; her sister didn’t know yet.

Which meant she couldn’t meddle.

“Do you want some?” Feyre asked, gesturing back to the cabinetry where the mugs were kept. Elain shook her head. She was already jittery enough, she didn’t need to add caffeine to the mix.

“I’ll fix some breakfast,” she said. “Any requests?”

Feyre shook her head. “Nothing special, maybe just some toast?”

Elain set to work, cutting two slices from the previous day’s loaf and slathering them both with a rich cranberry preserve she’d been saving for a special occasion. Feyre was already sitting at the table, and Elain slid one plate in front of her just in time for her sister to sit up, alarm crossing her face.

A moment later, the wards around the house fizzed as something cut through them - a winnower - and then two voices were arguing in the living room. One was Lucien, the other Elain didn’t recognize.

Feyre was already up and rushing to the room, so Elain trailed behind her, worried for Lucien. She hadn’t seen anything in her dreams that might suggest a fight or danger, but she didn’t see everything.

“Ah, Feyre, good morning,” the stranger said. “Mind telling me why I caught your emissary destroying my wards?”

Elain finally recognized the stranger, despite never having seen him before - Helion Spellcleaver, Lucien’s father. He was holding Lucien by the back of his jacket right at the collar, reminding Elain of the way a vixen might carry their kit around by the scruff of their neck. Lucien completed the picture, his eyes glinting with mischief and the high of victory. Whatever it was he’d been doing before getting caught by his unknowing father, he’d succeeded first.

His hands were dirty, with streaks on his pants from where he’d hastily brushed them off, but it was caked underneath his nails. He’d been digging.

“Lucien,” Feyre sighed, pinching her brows between two fingers. “What were you doing in Day?”

Lucien glanced at Elain, lips quirking upward for a moment. “Exploring,” he replied wryly. “It’s been too long since I’ve been in the Day Court. I wanted to refamiliarize myself. For the sake of my emissary duties, of course.”

“Of course,” Feyre replied, voice as dry as Day’s deserts. “Apologies for him, Helion. I’ll see to it that it doesn’t happen again.”

Lucien rolled his eyes as Helion finally let him go, giving him a little shove toward Feyre. Lucien stumbled for only one step, then righted himself, straightening his jacket by tugging the bottom.

“I might suggest a leash for the little fox,” Helion said. “If I catch him again, I’m not going to return him nicely.”

Elain watched Lucien curiously as he approached her, clearly determined now that she was before him. He stopped directly before her, slinging a glamoured satchel off his back. Both Helion and Feyre went silent as the glamour faded, watching Lucien with equal fascination.

Lucien held the bag out to her. “For you.”

Elain raised a delicate brow as she accepted the gift. When she opened it, she gasped, snapping her eyes back up to Lucien’s.

“They’re called Osteospermum,” he explained. “A type of daisy native only to the Day court.”

“All of them?” she asked, looking back in the bag. There were several plants in the bag, each with a different pattern.

“All of them,” he confirmed. “I grabbed all the ones that looked like sunlight. I thought the Night Court could do with a little more of it.”

Indeed he had: some were a purpley black at the center with butter yellow petals, others were orange in the center fading to pink at the tips like a sunrise, others were lavender fading to orange like a sunset. One was bright yellow, with a thick stripe of red down the center of each petal.

All of them were still attached to roots, soil clinging to them. He’d dug them up for her, so that she might plant them in the garden, bring a little bit of brightness to Night.

“Thank you,” she said, overcome with the gift. Lucien beamed at her. Normally, Elain suppressed the bond between them, but this time, she opened it wide and shoved the feeling the gift gave her at him. His mouth parted silently as he felt the full scope of her appreciation.

“You destroyed my wards to steal flowers?” Helion said, incredulity audible.

Lucien ignored him; so did Elain.

“I need to clean up a bit before we go,” Lucien said quietly. “If you're still willing?”

Elain nodded, dumbfounded. Grayson had given her living flowers, sure. But he’d bought them - bought a rose bush from a landscaper that had been planted for her in the grounds of the manor under her supervision, not by her own hands. She’d appreciated the gift then, sure - but she’d never loved roses the way she loved other flowers. They were overused, as far as she thought, too often used as a romantic move simply because everyone said they were. But these-

Lucien knew she wanted the sunlight. Knew she’d love these far more. And he’d gotten them with his own hands, not money, with no intention of letting anyone else touch them. They were for her hands alone to plant, to care for.

This was ten times the gift Grayson had given, because Lucien had put more thought into it. Even with mere hours to prepare - hours he also needed to spend sleeping - he’d done this.

Elain hugged the satchel to her chest, dipping her head to smell the sweet scent wafting up. If this was his idea of a first courting gift, she wondered what else he might have in store for the day.

---

Somehow, Lucien knew of her favorite café in Velaris.

It was a tiny little thing, with large windows to let in the light, packed to the brim with plants on every possible surface. Ivy climbed the walls between the panes, ferns in the corners, the ever dramatic pothos perched on shelves in several places, the leaves dripping down as if to beg for attention and always more water from the visitors.

He pulled out her chair for her, scooting it in as she sat. The server appeared a moment later. Elain studied him as he ordered, the fall of his hair, the gleam of his metal eye, the light scar that cut through it. The sunlight that came through the windows clung to him, and he didn’t even realize.

He watched her in return while the server set their order down, until Elain cleared her throat, took a sip of her steaming tea, and said, “You wanted to talk?”

Lucien took a sip of his tea as well. “Yes. I- How are you, today?”

It clearly wasn’t what he really wanted to say, but Elain saw no problem answering honestly, in jumping straight into the issue. “As fair as I could hope, given everything. But doubting. You say sex isn’t a dealbreaker for you, but I don’t really believe you. You might think you mean it now, but in six weeks? Six months? A year from now? Eventually you’ll change your mind, realize you can’t live without it. And I don’t want to be hurt when you finally have that realization. I refuse to be cast aside for another, but I also refuse to give in and change my mind.”

Lucien winced, taking her words to heart. Elain had known it was too good to be true, and now she would have to face the consequences of her actions, of telling Lucien the truth.

“Has Feyre told you about… about Jesminda?” Lucien asked, changing the subject and refusing to discuss her concerns. It wasn’t a good start, to say the least.

Elain didn’t recognize the name, and so shook her head. Lucien sighed, bringing one hand up to run it through the hair low on his neck - obviously some form of soothing, stress relief.

“Up until you tumbled out of the cauldron, I thought I had already met my mate. Met her and lost her. The bond never snapped between us, for obvious reasons in hindsight, but I would have sworn it existed then.”

Another woman. Female, whatever. Lucien was in love with another female, or at least had been at one point. Jealousy stirred within her, irrational but poignant none-the-less.

“She was a lesser fae, and my father did not approve of the relationship, to say the least. He had her tortured and beheaded in front of me, after which I fled to Spring, where I stayed for the next two centuries, give or take.”

The jealousy receded, replaced with embarrassment and mortification. At least she’d kept her expression neutral, so Lucien would hopefully be none the wiser.

“I’m sorry that happened,” she said. “Losing a loved one is always… hard.”

Lucien smiled his thanks, bitter and grieving even as he appreciated her saying it. “Me too,” he said, falling into silence for a moment as he lived his memories once more. “But that’s not the point. The point is that Jes and I carried on our relationship for over ten years before Beron discovered it. And, in those ten years, we never so much as kissed.”

Elain’s attention focused with archer-like precision on Lucien. Velaris could be burning around her and she wouldn’t so much as blink, lest she miss his next words.

“She loved holding my hand, playing with my hair. Sitting with me in my arms, even falling asleep together. But nothing more. It didn’t change how we loved each other.”

Ten years. She hadn’t thought he would be okay with waiting one year. But he’d been with Jes for a decade - barely anything to a fae, admittedly - and had merely thought her his mate. He’d been willing- no, happy with her, happy to spend the rest of his life never feeling her touch. He’d said as much to Elain, but she hadn’t believed it, not really.

“You aren’t like me and her, though. Right?” she asked.

Lucien gave her a rueful grin. “No, but it’s not as big of an issue as you seem to think it is. With Jes, I fully expected I would die without ever having sex again. And I was okay with it. I loved her for who she was far more than for what she could give me.”

“You don’t love me, though,” Elain said. “You barely even know me, thanks to me.”

Lucien studied her for a long moment. “Perhaps,” he finally allowed. “But I could.”

“Know me?”

“Love you. I think it would be easy to love you.”

Just as she felt about him - that he would be easy to fall in love with if she only let herself.

And she deserved to let herself.

“Okay,” she said softly.

“Okay?”

“You’ve convinced me.” Her lips tugged up at the corners. “We can try to make this work.”

There were still things they’d need to talk about, plans for the future they’d need to make align. Pasts to share, and the present to mold. But Elain finally had faith that it was possible.

Lucien beamed. It was so beautiful, Elain couldn’t help but slide her hand across the table to him. Lucien took it without looking away from her face, but Elain watched the way their fingers tangled, the way his thumb brushed back and forth a few times over hers.

A vision snagged her attention. Barely a second long, but intense. Their hands together again, a wedding ring glinting in the light. They were sitting together in a home, and a little girl was curled up asleep between them. She looked nothing like either of them, but Elain knew it was her child, could feel the love she would have for the girl even from the brief glimpse.

She looked up, meeting Lucien’s gaze once again. For the first time in years, she wasn’t scared of what the future might mean for them. She tightened her grip on his hand, standing up and dragging her chair around to his side of the table.

“In the interest of keeping things honest, I should probably tell you I made no plans for after lunch. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. Is there anything you might like to do?”

Elain thought for a moment, still staring again at the way their hands fit together perfectly. Then she grinned. Lucien’s breath caught, and she heard his heart skip a beat.

“I’ve always loved puzzles,” she said. “Care to find one for us to solve?”

Lucien tilted his head in thought. “I have one in my apartment right now, actually. I bought it secondhand though, so it might be missing a few pieces.”

Elain laughed quietly. “That makes it even better,” she said.

“Yeah?” Lucien’s lips tugged to the side, fox-like mischief flickering in his eyes. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Elain stood, pulling him to his feet after her. “Lead the way.”

Lucien tugged her out the door, never dropping her hand once the entire way home.

#elucienweek2023 #acotar fic #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fic #bela writes

26 notes · View notes

pt-disconnected · 1 year

Text

With the Dark World seeming to crumble around them, the Player was honestly terrified- as were their allies. Everything seemed out of place- the Card Castle was falling apart as parts of it were replaced with rooms that were from the school, collapsing in on itself. And the Knight was there, laughing. "You fools... so focused on a pawn that you forgot to block the checkmate! And now the game is over!" he said, grinning madly.

The Player looked around, trying to find something- anything- that would get them somewhere. And as they saw a path into the Light World, they grabbed hold of one of the Ralsei variants. "Hold on, guys!" they said, triggering a split-second reaction for the six to grab each other, and Lancer of course. Lancer, trailing at the end, also gave a warning. "G- guys?! That guy is chasing us! What'd you do to make him this mad..?! What's happening to the castle?!" the prince said, confused. But the Player didn't look back. "No time! We'll try and explain soon!" they said, before pulling the six out of the Dark World and into the Light World- without them turning into their respective objects.

This terrified the Ralsei group. Lairse, for one, was enraged. "This... this isn't supposed to be possible! The darkness is merged with the light- no fountain, light or dark, should be able to do that!" he shouted, albeit still in the line led by the Player.

The Player, however, had a focus on their goal. "We need to find Kris. Odds are, they might be able to put a few pieces together. And with what we learned from that guy- I'm not even gonna bother with his name- we might have a shot at figuring out what we need to do."

The group nodded, including Lancer- though he was a bit exhausted. "H- hey, lemon-lime..? C- could I just tag along in your pocket..? I'm not really... the running type..." he said, panting some. The Player sighed. "Yeah, that's fine. I can't be losing you in this mess- Susie would kill me." they say, to which Lancer ran over (conveniently regaining enough energy to do so) and hopped in. Seems the inventory logic of the Dark World had blended through as well.

With Lancer tucked away, safe in the Player's pockets, the group of seven made their way to Kris' house via the Player's lead. Around them, monsters and Darkners of all kinds were panicking, with humans emerging from the rifts connecting the Dark World to the Light World. But these seven were focused on the task at hand.

As they approached the house in question, three figures emerged. Kris, Toriel, and then one more who looked surprisingly like the Ralseis- to his complete confusion. Kris and Toriel were also a bit shocked- especially Kris, as Ralsei was currently in the Light World, something that shouldn't have been possible.

The first one to speak was Kris. "P- Player, what are you doing here?! And what's with Ralsei and the others?! You all should still be in the Dark World- especially them!" they said, referring to the Ralsei group at the end. But the Player shook their head. "This is a massive emergency situation, Kris. Things have gone haywire on both ends. We need to get Susie and Noelle... and probably Berdly as well. I'm not sure what's going on myself, but this is a very bad situation, and that's best case. Worst case... this could be the end of your worlds. And, possibly mine if things go really south."

Asriel spoke up. "Um, sorry to interrupt, but who are you..? And why are there... uh, six more of me?!" he said, completely baffled. Toriel sighed. "Azzy, there's a lot to explain. I'm lucky to have been filled in on the situation myself, especially when things weren't so sudden. We should find Susie, Noelle, and Berdly first, then we can try and sort things out..."

Ralsei nodded, as did the rest of the Asriels- including, well, Asriel himself. Asriel, for one, was surprised at the synchronicity he had with them, but shrugged it off. "Okay. We'll need to split up to find them- but I think we can handle this." he said. "But we also need to ensure everyone's safety."

Kris looked to their adopted mother. "Mom, you know Mayor Holliday, and she trusts you. You'd be best to get Noelle." The Player, in turn, looked to Kris. "Okay, Kris, you might be able to get Susie. I don't know for sure how well it'd go- but you should be able to find her best. Here- take Lancer. That should be enough to prove the intensity of the situation." they say, pulling Lancer out of their pocket (to the shock of both Toriel and Asriel). Lancer just looked around a bit, and chuckled. "Wow, nice castle you got, Kris! Maybe someday I can see what kinds of holes it's got!" he said, before Kris just smiled a little, putting Lancer right into their own pocket.

Looking to Asriel, along with his six other selves, Player sighed. "Asriel, we'll need you to ensure this place is safe. These six should be able to help with that- just make sure this place is safe for when we get back." they say, to which Asriel just looks toward them. "...How do I know I can trust you, though..?" Both Kris and Toriel, however, nodded some, with Toriel speaking. "You can trust them, Azzy. It might be crazy- but there's something different about them. And they've proved themselves. So just work with them."

Asriel sighed, and nodded. "Okay. I'll do my best." Though, Kris spoke next. "Wait, what about Berdly? Who'll find him?" they asked. The Player sighed. "I'm gonna have to try and find them. I'm not sure, but they might be in the library- I just hope that they're all safe. But we need to move, and we'll need to move fast. There's no telling what might happen."

The group all nodded, and began working on their respective tasks. Kris began making their way towards the general apartment complex in the town- and odds were, Susie would be out and about with the chaos going on. Toriel made her way towards the Holliday residence. The seven Asriel variants began work on a sort of base, trying to make the Dreemurr house into a decent place for them to keep themselves safe. And, the Player was making their way towards the library of the town- where Berdly would hopefully be.

But on the way, they wound up plowing face-first into a large, admittedly fluffy monster. They fell backwards, and upon looking up, found themselves staring straight at a startled, albeit armed, Asgore. They immediately put their arms up. "Wait! I don't mean any harm!" they said, knowing how the Light World residents saw the humans. Asgore, however, was just confused. "Wait, what..? Human, what's going on? Tell me now!" he said, starting out confused but quickly getting his weapon, a gardening rake, readied. The Player nodded some. "Okay, I can try to tell you... it's gonna be a bit unbelievable but I think with what's going on you might be willing to believe it... heck if you want I can get you to a safe place, but I need to get to someone- it's a long story, but please, PLEASE believe me. I'm not trying to hurt anyone..."

Asgore glared into eyes of the Player for a few moments, before sighing and allowing them up. "Okay. I believe you. Tell me where to go, and I will meet you there..." he said. The Player got up, slower than they would have normally. "Go back to Kris' place... they should be able to explain when they get back. It'll be a crazy story but this is already crazy as it is. I'll be back soon..." they said, and Asgore's only reply was a nod, before he started to run towards the house. Out of the corner of their eye, the Player also noticed Kris with Susie, as well as Lancer piggybacking on Susie's shoulders. That was good timing.

So they continued on their way to the library- but what they saw honestly terrified them. It wasn't entirely a library anymore- a tree that looked straight out of a pop-up book had grown through the roof, with Berdly on one of the branches. Upon seeing the Player, he called down to them. "Player! Help! I'm not used to this! I don't want to be a normal bird right now!" he said, admittedly getting a small chuckle out of the Player, before they refocused on the situation.

They quickly tried to find something that would break the fall- before noticing a nearby Darkner that was conveniently just an oversized pillow. As such, they quickly approached. "Hey, I need your help really quick. I know it's strange, but you need to break my friend's fall- are you able to do that safely?" they asked. Shockingly, they nodded- turns out they had been doing that for other Darkners too. As such, they went over to the spot where Berdly would probably land.

Unfortunately, it wasn't just that easy. Berdly was still clinging to the branch, not wanting to let go. "I can't fall that far down! I'd PERISH! This isn't the Dark World, where a single pillow would nullify all the fall damage!" he said, clearly afraid of heights. The Player just sighed. "Berdly, there's no distinction between the two right now! Whatever it is that's going on has messed up the rules of reality! Think of it as a glitch- fall damage isn't working right because of it!" they said. So Berdly gulped, closed his eyes, and dropped right onto the pillow-Darkner. Getting up, he looked at himself, and let out a sigh of relief and did a fist pump- before the Darkner asked for him to get off of them, which he did.

With Berdly back in the group, the Player now chose to make their way back to the Dreemurr house- Berdly not far behind. As they approached, the two could see Asgore and Toriel, actually talking. It was strange, but it seemed that the dire circumstances were allowing them to interact... somewhat normally. And with Toriel back, that meant Noelle had arrived as well. But to the Player's surprise, there was a second one there with her- another reindeer monster who seemed to be just a bit older than Noelle, and dressed in an outfit much like that of Noelle's Dark World outfit, except it was a light blue instead of white. She seemed to be talking with Noelle, as well as Susie and Kris, and when Susie saw the Player approaching, she pointed them out. Kris quickly went over, with Noelle and the other reindeer monster staying back for the time being.

Kris looked to Berdly. "Berdly, you got any idea what's going on?" The bluebird shook his head. "Not in the slightest, aside from the obvious. Why? You don't know either?" Kris shook their head. "Just checking to see if we needed to explain. Regardless, now that everyone's together, we need to get a sort of plan. Dad was worried for Mom, and Dess wound up finding out about things because her outfit changed, so they're getting an explanation of things from before."

The Player sighed. "Okay, once those explanations are done, I think me, Ralsei, and the rest of Asriel's alternate selves have some stuff to explain too. Turns out that the Knight had us all fooled. I don't know how we could have stopped him in the first place anymore."

Kris groaned, concerned but clearly not wanting to think on it too much. "Okay. Tell us later. Right now, we've got a lot to work on. At least we have another two in our team for now. I don't know where we'll go from here, but... I think once Azzy and the Ralseis finish getting the house fortified more, we can get things hashed out more calmly. For now, we should just get you introduced to Dad and Dess. That way, they don't mistake you for one of the other humans who seem to be... not as happy about what's going on."

The Player simply nodded. "Got it. Let's get that done."

Whoa, what's this? Part 20?! And I hadn't even done a Anon Asks yet!! Seems that things really have gone into chaos. And this is a nice, larger part too. I personally am unsure of the quality of it but if you guys all enjoy it then that's what matters to me. I certainly want to aim for quality as well in the end. So now we've had two parts in the span of one week (not in terms of a calendar, I mean two parts in seven days), and honestly I'm happy about that. I have a few ideas for where to go from here, and those vary wildly in all honesty. Depending on how I can work with Azzy being part of the story, as well as the new additions (hehe!) we might be seeing a variety of things. Could be new stuff, could be rewritten old stuff, could be stuff happening in the background of old stuff. There's even another option that you might be able to figure out if you hunt it down. Pgp lkwbak isow mqgba abj wep, xxnr zme isrbpn waabec penrxnm ezp isr zga. Qkz bbnpaan lka nzptpe fg lka dtqu uip rexmo abj bouznn royew nu mp. Md do ritnazzm vwzm pgc yafigapne pso htwe, tobp pso lmeeyo abj opzcg mqbpnjp. Hopefully you all enjoy this additional part of the story, and whatever else is soon to be! I'll see you all in whatever comes next, be it the next Anon Asks, or another part should I manage to pull more motivation out of thin air! Previous Part | First Part | Next Part LynxGriffin's Paper Trail Comic (Whoa, a completely original segment! Shocking! Check out the comic anyways though, you might find something that might be intriguing- there's all sorts of stuff in there that inspires these story segments!)

23 notes · View notes

whimsicalpoet44 · 1 year

Text

Currently in the life of a Cycle Breaker | Spiritual Person 😂

This is a rant | sarcasm induced rage (kinda) | trauma dump because I'm exhausted and no one else understands this path except other astrology/spiritual people. And if I said this to the average person they'd look at me like I had lost my mind but it's decades worth of knowledge I've accumulated over time after consulting with other spiritual mentors\teachers.

If you don't agree that's fine. This has just been my experience and I can talk about any of it if you so wish, because there's a toxic rhetoric associated with a lot of things in the spiritual community, but it's just been misconstrued and idolized, resulting in misinformation. And it's extremely dangerous to spread said misinformation without doing thorough research and offering proper education on the topic. And if you believe I'm wrong, I invite you to educate me, because I always want to consider other viewpoints and be respectful.

Your beliefs might not align with mine and that's okay. I have friends in various spiritual circles and we all relate on some level even though our practices are very different. I have friends that are Christians, Witches, Christian Witches (Surprisingly), Pagans, Buddhists, Root Workers, Atheists, etc. But ultimately, we all feel called to a hyper-specific path and purpose, and we lean on one another. My hopes is to extend a piece of my journey to you all to create a sense of community if you're in need of one. No matter what your beliefs are.

Not to mention, I feel like it's relevant because so many placements correlate with an interest in the occult and mysticism. But I never really see anyone talk about them together.

Me in my fourth house profection year after working through my Saturnian lessons in my 2nd and 3rd house year, with my Saturn return on the horizon preparing to knock me on my ass while I battle the figurative demons of maternal generational trauma. While also implementing the lessons I learned regarding Saturn in the 3rd House by readying myself to unleash my truth in the form of a poetry book. While also grieving the unmet needs of my inner child due to grief associated with a parent I never got to know.

Then the Universe decides to drop kick a strange synchronicity regarding my twin flame after he's been haunting my dreams FOR THE PAST YEAR after I haven't thought about him in like five years. But I didn't know he was my twin flame (And that's just a very confusing topic with a lot of nuance that I took a very long time to examine and dissect carefully because spiritual psychosis is a thing, but I've made a determination after consulting with my mentors. I can talk more about this if yall want. Specifically from an astrological standpoint) and the math starts mathing. Because the coincidences no longer feel like coincidences.

But now Idk wtf this means and it's confusing. Because I'm also working through lessons with a karmic, to which we are both very aware that we are each others' karmics and we're ok with that because we make better friends anyways and have agreed it was a relationship of convienece while we sort our own shit out. (not ideal but we were literal teenagers when we got together + inflation is a thing so it's what works right now)

All in the midst of a career change, trying to get certified in astrology, and learn tarot, while also beginning a path of working with Hekate (I can also talk about this if anyone wants more info) and constantly arguing with my ancestors because they want me to complete my lessons quicker than I am, but I have to kindly humble them that I'm undoing the trauma they left behind. While also helping my niece break generational curses in the midst.

And I find no peace in my sleep because I accidentally astral project every other night because I have a 12th house stellium. Or my twin is barging in my perfectly peaceful dreams out of no where, to which I'm instantly annoyed about. So I'm always exhausted.

But I really just want to get my Saturn return over with and get to this glow up everyone raves about and experience a tiny sliver of peace for five seconds. 😅

Sooo, follow along the hot mess express to watch a Saturn return happen in real time to a Cap Rising to see what it entails and how much my life falls a part in the process.

But for real though, I like to be open with all of you. We all have our own path and it consists of different things. Not all of us will adopt the same ideologies or opinions about certain things in the spiritual world. And that's okay. To each their own, as long as you aren't condoning abuse, culturally appropriating, or talking down to others, whatever your path consists of is okay!

But seriously, know the signs of spiritual psychosis. Dissect spiritual ideologies you hear about online with a fine tooth comb. Consult experienced spiritualists or mentors. Find a community you can trust. And I'm going to say it again - don't culturally appropriate.

Also, don't jump headfirst into something you don't know anything about. Especially regarding paganism and witchcraft. Research. Consult others. Listen to your intuition.

I'm happy to answer any questions you all might have! (Just remember though, it might take me some time to get to everyones questions, but I will get to all of them). My take on things will likely be very different from another spiritualists', but that's ok. You learn by asking and seeing if it resonates.

I've been on this path for quite some time, and felt like it was the right time to share some of what I know, in hopes it will help someone else that's in the same spot I was in years ago.

Especially if you're an 8th/9th/12th Houser, you could be pushed to adopt new belief systems. Yours doesn't have to look like mine, but I'm happy to share my journey about how I landed where I ended up landing with my belief system and how I was sure it was right for me.

It doesn't feel right to keep it to myself. So please, ask away. I was also hesitant to share this because of others' pre-conceived ideas and beliefs, but I know there's someone else out there feeling how I was feeling in the beginning.

Not me finishing this hearing a literal owl hooting outside my window. 💀😂😂

#spirituality #spiritualawakening #saturn return #hekate #spiritualpath #occult

14 notes · View notes

rieindiegames · 1 year

Text

Profanation - Ellina Kaimana Short Story, Patron Teaser

The story provides readers a glance into the life of Ellina Kaimana and Callus Kaimana during their youth long before Callus became the current emperor and Ellina went missing. This includes spoilers regarding the protagonist’s parents and the nature of Xenia Kaimana in regards to her children.

~~~~~ “Today’s a joyous day, Ellina, yet your complexion suggests otherwise,” my mother comments. I stand with her on the grand steps of the imperial palace, awaiting the return of the delegation. The royal army departed four months ago on an expedition to quell the brewing rebellion in the Eastern Kaimanian region. Three of four eastern noble houses united against the empire in a futile effort at independence. The grim reality of their defeat contrasts with the exuberant celebration before me. Those in the grand parade are a swath of elation and vibrant colour. Guards swirl rods with the blue and white of the Kaimanian flag. Squares of coloured paper rain from the sky from those firing off poppers. Musicians fervently play the imperial anthem. Bursts of percussion, woodwind, and brass blare so loudly that not a single household in this capital could ignore it. It’s a beautiful celebration, but knowing its underlying significance, I can’t help but feel dour. My brother returns today. That knowledge has my stomach twisting up like snakes do to prey. “I’m well, Mother,” I lie before snapping open my hand fan. “It’s simply too hot.”

“Glory to the Kaimanian empire!” A citizen shouts. “Cheers to the crown prince!” Another voice follows. “Congratulations, Your Highness!” The cheers blur together after that. I stop listening.

A man in dark, battle-worn armour leads the procession atop a black horse. The closer he gets, the louder the cheers are, and the worse my stomach knots. When he reigns his horse in and dismounts, the soldiers behind him follow suit. It’s a unanimous, startlingly synchronized affair. The army reveres him realms more than his previous expedition with them. I wonder how he treats them on the battlefield that they return with such undying loyalty. My brother tugs off his helmet and hands it to the awaiting attendant as he climbs the stairs. I thought the ceremony was loud before, but some fervour takes the crowd when sunlight brightens Callus’s features. His platinum hair draws my eye, shining like a vault full of jewels, although mine is the same colour. As usual, his long strides take him towards our mother, where he kneels and accepts her hand for its customary kiss.

“The blood and flesh of the Kaimanian Empire,” he begins, “greets the esteemed Blessing of the Realm.” Our mother squeezes his hand. “The goddess has blessed me today as you’ve returned.” “Safe and victorious.” “You are in one piece. That is the victory that’s blessed my troubled heart. Welcome home, my dear son.” Callus smiles as he stands. The crowd erupts. They’re dazzled, and understandably so. It’s a rare event for Callus to smile genuinely, but every time he’s done it, it’s been in Xenia’s proximity. He’s this empire’s flesh and blood. Its sun that gives and takes. “I’m proud to be home, Mother.” She draws him close and kisses his forehead. An affectionate gesture that he leans down for. He surpassed Mother’s height last year by a whole head. While he’s uninjured, she still overlooks him. “You lost too much weight while you were away. Must you join the soldiers every time?” “I would not follow a leader issuing orders from the safety of his fortress. As such, I go with them as a matter of principle.” “But you could send your mother more than two letters a month.” “Yes,” he laughs. “I will next time. I’m training a new bird for that sole purpose.” “And what are these thin cheeks? This empire doesn’t prosper so you can starve.” “Yes Mother,” he grins and gazes upon her as if he's been blessed by endless fortune. I step forward during that lull in their conversation. “Welcome home, Brother,” I offer before a routine curtsy. Callus’s soft gaze turns stony upon seeing me. The smile vanishes, replaced by a thin, unemotional line. Well, pleased to be in your company again too. “Ellina.” He faces our mother and eases off a necklace hidden under his armour. It’s a silken pouch with a sealed wooden chest of herbs. “I brought this tea back for you. They call the blend sunrise cordial, as it’s made with the seasonal solis flowers that bloom during the short period where the sun rises.” “As lovely as this gift is, your greetings for your sister were too short, Callus.” “I missed you both.” Callus’s platitude doesn’t work on our mother judging by her deep frown. So, when he turns, he approaches me. “Have you been well, Ellina?” Hah, now I exist to you because she scolded you? If it weren’t for my fan, he’d see my stiff jaw. “Quite.” “Same as ever then.” “Better. I’ve had a restful four months.” “As you would need. The selection date of your betrothed is approaching.” “A week from now, yes.”

He stands beside me as Mother addresses the Kaimanian people from the podium. She thanks the soldiers for their service and delivers a spirited speech regarding the state of the empire. My conversation with Callus dies while she talks. Even if by some force of the goddess I wanted to keep it going, Callus would silence me. His filial affection and pride are the epitome of his character. At least on the surface. Amidst the social circles, there’s endless gossip of his violent nature and unrelenting disinterest in all the women who’ve tried to seduce him. Including the most persistent one who’s ten paces away, front and center, refusing to be swallowed by the enormous crowd. A noble lady with defining magenta coloured tresses and a stunning white fan embroidered with blue and black lace. It’s lady Sideri of house Xiandor. The only surviving heir of her noble lineage. I’ve heard her ageing parents are ill following the mysterious and tragic deaths of the rest of her six siblings. Every gathering I attend, she’s somewhere within a stone’s throw. Her eyes follow my family members as though she intends to steal their place. My father was fond of her, which is a terrifying thing. He was a brutal, insufferable tyrant who preferred the company of other unseemly individuals. Seems his favour persists even in death, considering her placement so close to the imperial steps.

“Ellina, your oration,” my mother calls. I gather my skirt and breeze forward. From the podium, I see all. Many of the faces in the crowd, at least those close to the steps, are familiar to me. If not intimately, then in passing. “As my mother shared before me,” I begin, “now is a time of unity. We’ve arrived at a critical crossroads where anything less could bring disaster into this kingdom, into your homes.” I scan the crowd. “Which is why I offer the most gracious gratitude towards those that protect this sacred kingdom, our soldiers. Their resilience, their bravery, and loyalty couldn’t exist without the diligence and support of all citizens. United care has brought us this peace, and it will be maintained.” My mother stands to my right. Callus is straight-backed on my left. “This golden age came forth through Empress Xenia Kaimana’s ambitions for every kaimanian citizen to live a better life. A noble goal which I shall protect for as long as I draw breath and beyond.” I raise my hand towards the glistening sun. “Here’s to a unified, prosperous life for all, and a heartfelt welcome home to those who’ve ensured that possibility.”

The clapping and cheers erupt. The band begins. My mother hugs me as I step down. She whispers how well I did, but my mind is already elsewhere. I’ve finished what was required of me, so the rest of the afternoon is my own. Skipping the celebration tonight is my right. I’d rather avoid any party thrown in Callus’s honour. Ozias said he’d visit after this formal affair ended. I’ve looked forward to it all afternoon. As I stride towards the castle doors, I catch Callus’s even stare. A chill brushes my neck although no particular emotion stands out on his face. I’ll escape him soon. There’s no need for such frazzled nerves. He’s a veritable saint to the ladies who adore him, but I cannot fathom how. They must know a man who looks like an angel is far more often the devil than his counterpart.

***

Two hours later, I wait outside my mother’s reception room. Like many of my visitors, I require my mother’s approval before I spend time with them. Ozias and I aren’t supposed to meet due to his lacking political position among the capital’s nobles. Besides, with my approaching betrothal, for social reasons, I’m unallowed to be with any man for too long a span of time.

Not that the length of time is crucial to me. It’s dastardly the amount of fun one can have in a few minutes. Still, I’ve waited fifteen minutes already, and Ozias arrived half an hour ago. Mother’s inside with the strategist of the Kaimanian army, Coderick Shwan. He returned alongside Callus with the other soldiers. What are they speaking about that I can’t interrupt for a minute with a brief yes or no request? I could crack open the door and listen. Nobody’s here to stop me. When mother took over, she dismissed her imperial guard. Everywhere she goes she’s unguarded with a sword at her hip as her sole defence. I admire it, but I’d never pick up a sword myself. I’ve gone through great pains to keep my body free of the scars labour provides.

Unable to bear it any longer, I wedge the door open about two fingers width of space. Then lean in to hear what’s happening.

“...It’s imperative we take this seriously, Your Majesty,” Sir Coderick Shwan’s voice comes. “I didn’t meet you to hear slander about my son,” my mother snaps. So Callus is the topic for debate? What’s he done now? “I would not share if there weren’t cause for concern. He’s becoming more violent among the soldiers and nobles. A reprimand from you would set him straight.” “There’s nothing to reprimand. All young boys go through such a phase when boredom takes them.” Sir Shwan dabs at his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “Your Majesty, please,” the strategist stresses. “This is more than some passing rambunctious behaviour. He strung up nine soldiers who—” “Perhaps you misheard me. Our conversation is over. You will not defame my son and expect to keep your position, is that clearer?” Cowed, Coderick hangs his head. “I... understand, Your Majesty. My respect for you is why I brought this to your attention. His Highness holds you in the highest regard. Please, I beg of you to speak to him before his temperament worsens.” “He’ll be twenty in two months. Such folly will stop by then.” The strategist seems anxious, but he says nothing more. Seems they’ve finished.

I knock on the door. “Mother? Will you be much longer?” “Ellina? Realms, come in.” I peek around the door. Her office is as stunning as ever with its high ceiling, beautiful drapery of red, white, and gold, and all its dark mahogany furniture. Shame it’s a place for politics. “May I see Ozias Ortega this afternoon?” I ask. “He’s invited me horseback riding in the castle’s fields.” “Yes, you may. Pardon, I didn’t mean to make you wait so long.” “You have more urgent matters to attend to, so I understand.” I glance at Sir Shwan. “Are you two well?” He nods. “Never better, Your Highness.”

Liar. I heard the end of your conversation. I understand my mother’s position, but Sir Shwan should pressure her. Callus has had several altercations, and their frequency continues to grow. If he weren’t the next crown prince, he’d be in a cell already eating starch and abysmal proteins. Well, as long as I don’t cross paths with him, I don’t care. His actions are the perfect distraction from mine.

I turn to go, but my mother calls out. “Return before tonight’s banquet, please.” Oh dear. She knows then. “Must I attend? I’ve slept poorly as of late, so I’d prefer to retire early.” My mother sets her pen down. A subdued sign of her disbelief, I know all too well. Sir Shwan retreats from her desk with sudden interest in the nearby bookshelf. “Why wouldn’t you go to your brother’s return celebration?” My mother demands. “Sleep is fickle by nature, especially for this family. There’s no guarantee retiring early will do you any good.” “Mother—” “He’s been to all of your celebrations. So how could you?” “I never asked him to be there…” Actually, I’d prefer he didn’t attend a single one. His obsession with punctual attendance makes me look like a lout. My mother’s glare shoots right through me. “Are you two fighting again? What happened?” “Nothing, Mother.” “Then why, by the goddess’s grace, won’t you attend the party?” “I’m tired. Is it a crime to be tired?” “If you’re too tired for that, then you’re certainly too tired for horseback riding,” she imposes. There’s no winning against her. I’ll lose my afternoon plans if I don’t attend that accursed homecoming banquet. “Okay, I understand. I’ll attend, so please?” “Your attendance was never in question.” My mother’s gaze falls back to her work. She collects the stamp to the right of her on the desk, rolls it in ink, and slams it against the paper. Sir Shwan appears on her left to collect it. “Appear for half an hour, then do as you please with your evening, since you’re tired.” The banquet is around seven this evening. I’ll have an hour and a half with Ozias despite his now forty-five-minute wait. “Ellina, did you hear me?” My mother’s brow arches. “Yes, I’ll be back well before then.” She nods and then overlooks an oblong package Sir Shwan hands her. “This arrived as well,” he notifies. “No sender.” I’ll have to make the most of my afternoon with Ozias.

***

“Was wondering if you’d forgotten me,” Ozias comments the moment I enter the stables. He’s tanned since I last saw him, and he wears it well. I suppose hanging out with me all summer has given him some character. His long tea-green hair, so fair and pastel it’s nearly translucent in the sunlight, is tied back. That one bold colour ever a contrast against his preference for white and beige attire. Our horses are prepared. He hands the reins to me as we walk towards the fields.

“Don’t start. Have you any idea what I go through each time you visit?” His honey-coloured eyes are both worried and mischievous. “I have an idea.” “Then work harder. Otherwise, I’ll find myself a socially acceptable friend who isn’t so troublesome to see.” “Hey now, I’ve made attempts.” My choice look bounces off him. “Unsuccessful attempts are still attempts, Ellina.” “I’m sure. Now hurry. I didn’t get out of Callus’s banquet tonight.” His fingers brush my knuckles. “Will you be okay? Should I attend as your guest?” “You’d make it to the door of our home before my mother or brother tossed you out. Perhaps both.” “Then I’ll wait in the gardens. You ought to sneak me a slice of apple cake for my virtuous patience waiting on you this afternoon.” My foot strikes Ozias’s calf, and he tumbles into the grass. Quite pathetic considering his family lineage has decorated soldiers dating back eight decades.

Once we’re settled on our horses, we meander through the fields chatting idly. Sunset dapples across the meadow in heartwarming oranges and golds. The wind’s pleasantly cool, tempering the day’s scorching sun. It’s good to be out. Almost as good as it is to be royalty. Without it, I couldn’t dream of scenery like this, of green and peace stretching for leagues in every direction. The Kaimanian castle is one-hundred and eighty acres of land. Walking the vast expanse sometimes it’s easy to feel like the only person in the realm.

Ozias and I trot an even pace southwards across the property. There’s an old tree in that area that’s become our customary spot. I race the last stretch of the way there just to feel the wind. The steady pounding hooves of Ozias’s horse sound behind me. We dismount at the tree and clamber up its rough oak. Only once we’re settled beside one another on my favourite branch do I enjoy the afternoon. This high up, the outline of the city sparkles like diamonds. The puffs of white smoke from various chimneys add to the allure.

“This is my favourite spot in all the realm.” I breathe in the meadow’s clean, grassy air. “What? My arms no longer have that title?” Ozias jokes. “Remarks like that are why you’re banned from this property without explicit permission.” Ignoring his pinched, unhappy expression, I kick my riding boots off. They plummet into the grass with a satisfying thump. There’s something irresistibly pleasing about swinging my bare feet from high atop a tree—about the wind lacing between my toes. Ozias prefers the protective width of the trunk. He never ventures out across the branches like me.

“Aren’t you curious where I’ve been?” He wonders. “Sure,” I agree flatly. “Where have you been the past two weeks?” “I’ve decided what I’d like to do with my life. You know, personal development.” “So you’re leaving?” “Yes and no.” He eases a folded paper out of his pocket and smooths it out. I recognize the church’s crest. It’s Adelina in a cloak with water pouring from her hands. On her head is a circlet of gold leaf. “I’ve decided to join the Order of the Goddess,” Ozias declares. “Studied my ass flat over the past month, but I passed the entrance exam.” “Wow.” “Yeah, my formal instruction begins next week,” he beams. Then his smile falters. “Meaning this is my final visit for a while...” “Wow,” I laugh again since he misunderstood my mockery for sincerity. “You? A priest?” I yank up his sleeves. They’re dark with cursive, scrawling designs. As for his earlobes, small gems glint from them. “Do they allow believers with tattoos and piercings into the order?” “You dared me to do it!” “Yes, but following through is another matter.” “Keeping one’s word is a lifestyle choice towards self-betterment.” He declares it with such confidence I nearly believe him. Too bad I know their origin story. The soldier I’d been seeing two months ago had some, and they were a mild obsession of mine during that time, to put it delicately. Self-betterment has nothing to do with it. Ozias hoped to entice me by getting some of his own.

Still, I humour him. “You’ll make a fantastic priest, Ozias. Congratulations.” “Yes, well, I’ll have to survive the certification first. Nobody admits it, but the order’s biased against men. If you’d seen the disdainful way, the eldest sisters gazed upon the men who applied.” He sighs. I break some leaves off the tree and toss them below at my shoes. “And your father?” “Oh furious. I’ll bet my hearing’s damaged from the earful he gave me.” “You come from a proud lineage of soldiers and strategists who’ve supported the imperial crown. I’d be shocked if he hadn’t said anything.” “He can feel how he likes. Dying senselessly has no charm to me. I’d rather recite Adelina’s scripture a million times.” “Are you running?” I tease. “Would anyone want Callus as a commander?” “Yes. He’s received confession letters, both anonymous and straightforward, from noble women and members of the imperial army. The rest of the soldiers practically throw themselves at his feet.” Ozias’s eyes sweep over my face. “Alas, I’m already warming yours.” “Will you survive with avoidance as your reason for joining the order?” He frowns, clearly noticing my evasion, but moves on. “My hope is that neither of us encounters danger,” he divulges with a fond look. “I have no intention of doing anything dangerous.” “I’ve heard that before.”

I suppose he’s referencing my brother’s increasingly concerning behaviour. Callus trains with the imperial soldiers and they see him in some fanatical, enviable light. Trust him because even when his methods are reckless, he’s on the frontline with them each time. Mother says his pride is greater than any Kaimanian to date, but that’s something she takes honour in. Judging by the scorched houses and reclaimed assets of the noble houses who’ve insulted anyone in our family, she has no plans to stop him. And who could? It’s near impossible to placate Callus once he’s furious and decided. If there’s some method other than the orders of our mother that’d stop him, I’ve yet to find it. It’s difficult to experiment when his expression rarely changes. I’ve seen him torture a man with the same even glance I received as he greeted me this morning.

Warmth closes around my hand and fingers intertwine with mine. Pulled from my thoughts, I note how close Ozias shifted. His lips brush my knuckles. “Can I be honest, Ellina?” Oh dear... He continues without my input. “I’m not running. I hope to be of use to you. There’s ample opportunity for favours among the pious.” “Isn’t it blasphemy to join the church with such dubious intentions? Prioritize your well-being.” “I fear for you,” he admits. “Should you require it, I want to be in a position to free you from this place.” Devout promise gleams in his ardent gaze. I see he’s a fool now, as love sparkles there too. The one thing I didn’t want to see following the end of our nonchalant summer together. I offer a pleasant smile and ease away. “Stealing the crown princess would be the heist of the century, but I’m comfortable as I am.”

Ozias takes my hand again. Squeezes it in a manner that begs me not to pull away before he kisses it. What exactly does he expect from me? With mild hilarity, I wonder if he’ll ask me to wait? The certification process for the church is a five-year program. Or perhaps he’ll suggest I run away with him? Both are insipidly foolish, especially since I’d never do either. He kisses my hand again. Far slower. Hesitantly, he turns it over and presses another kiss to my palm. His honey-coloured eyes are nearly grey. They’re darkened in the shade of the tree. What a shame this is a mess now. He’s quite handsome.

“Ozias.” His eyes soften at my call. I have his full, unadulterated attention. “Yes?” “The selection of my betrothed is tomorrow. Please maintain the appropriate distance.” The light in his stare quivers, but doesn’t go out. “Do you hear the resentment with which you said that?” “You are not a candidate, if you recall.” “I do. Bitterly.” Yet my hand remains in his grip. “This friendship is allowed because I promised my mother I’d maintain the correct boundaries. I cannot betray her trust.” He releases me and leans back against the tree. “I meant you no offence.” “Then why not look for a spouse as well? There won’t be such scrutiny if you do that.” His stare is unsettled when it meets mine, then it flashes into anger. It’s a lovely look on him, really. “My feelings are quite preoccupied, so I won’t.” It’s as close to a confession as I’ve heard from him all season, but I pretend I didn’t hear it. With visible frustration, he realizes I won’t acknowledge it, regardless of how long he waits.

“I’ll write to you every two weeks,” he emphasizes. “Once a month will suffice.” “Ellina.” “I can’t excuse contact that frequent, and once a month is more generous than you comprehend.” He watches me again as if his pleading, scrunched eyes, his stiff shoulders, could move my heart. There’s no chance I’ll toss aside everything I am to be with someone who has nothing. As the next empress of this realm, men like Ozias are a coin toss away. He’s an idealist who believes love is all a person needs to prosper. If that were true, there’d be no merits to noble status—No commoners killing each other for the chance to be more.

“Then be well, Ellina,” Ozias’s tone is rueful. “That’s all I’ll request. If my writings will put you in a spot, then I’ll wait for your letters instead.” Yes, well, I would’ve missed you too if you hadn’t dashed senseless affection all over our seasonal fun. What a miserable last day in the sun together. I should get something out of this while I can. A reason to be tired tonight. Ozias glances at me once, then stares into the distance. “Shall we ride back?” I seize his arm before he leaps down from the tree... Read the rest [here on Patreon]

#iseKaiChosenThrone #lore #short story #ellina #callus #xenia #kaimana family

2 notes · View notes

inspireofficespace1 · 2 days

Text

What are the Benefits of using Odoo CRM

Odoo CRM Application is an advantage for the business. The advanced application in odoo can make the business grow quickly but it depends on how you run your business. CRM can help you with day-to-day procedures of customer relationships effortlessly and you can help and enrich your sales by going through the pieces of information of the sales process. The system permits you to have all the control over your sales team. And keeping the natural process of business safe.

A short note of the advantages of CRM

CRM application is best if you are running a business. If you are dealing with a new business then CRM is the best tool to grow your business.

The CRM application is designed to squeeze every ounce of usefulness from it. With the advanced features and tools in Odoo CRM, the application has many offers and it is simple and user-friendly.

CRM is an easy-to-use application that has the ability to adapt to the daily business routine and manage and maintain the information. So you don't need to manage the order information for every single day,

The CRM application will do it for you. With all these advantages and tools in the application form, the development of the business is a very important advantage which you can have.

The application will be provided with a feature that lets you create leads and help for the new companies.

The lead mining tool in the application is simple to operate and with a simple touch you can bring you the leads and you do not have to wait for someone to come to you anymore.

Creating leads was a huge task in the past but not anymore. Odoo SRM is designed to get more leads as possible. Apart from lead extracting you can generate leads from the business through CRM in many ways.

The frequently used way is a mailing system. This feature allows you to set a mail address as the entry gateway to the CRM for the leads.

This mail address can be shown in your marketing procedure, so if a random person who comes for your company by the given email link then the CRM application will automatically take them as a lead and let you work through the leads easily.

This will give your sales team a lead to work. The more the lead comes there is the chance of getting new customers. With the highly integrated nature of CRM application, This is easy for you to work with the various steps of customer relations.

The integration of the sales application permits your sales team to gives the sales procedure through the CRM application. You can configure the sales application for the sales tab on the dashboard of the CRM.

Both of the applications work to create the perfect synchronized and harmonious working space that permits you to make out customer care efficiently and much quicker than a bunch of Excel sheets.

Lead generation

Lead generation and management used to have an individual department on the sales team in the business organization but with Odoo CRM you do not have to worry about the leads anymore.

The process takes very less time, and it is a chance of winning lead and converting them into a customer with the help of customer-centered working of the application.

The application permit you to stay in contact with the customers all the time. The live chat option in the application permits you to have direct communication with the customer, even you can talk with your customer about the product which they are interested in and answer their questions and confusions about the product that they are interested in. You can use the space to stick with your product or services.

Odoo Spreadsheet

The CRM application is integrated with the Odoo spreadsheet, a Feature that will permit you to have the graphical information of your customer and the procedures of the sales team. This feature can also be used as a progress report of the sales team. You can check the attained targets and look at the explanations for not reaching targets or losing the leads or customers and guide them to achieve the target. This application gives you total control of your employees and their proceeding in the business deals and will permit you to maintain decorum in business management. With the integration of the Inventory module in the CRM along the side of sales, You can make out customer and sales processes easily. You can go through the inventory to check the product that particular lead is interested in and sell it directly to the customer. The application works effortlessly and thus preserves the workflow for your business.

API (Application Programming Interface)

You can make Odoo CRM application do everything with Application Programming Interface (API). With this, you can connect other software with the CRM application and give access to the features like creation of lead automation and many more other features. You can select the software for your own convenience. This gives you access to unlock a massive amount of features in the application of CRM. As Google Docs can be also integrated easily with your CRM application, You can pin the documents like advanced qualification forms, pricing tables, and other details regarding product and sales procedures.

Tools

With Odoo's advanced tools of marketing integrated into the CRM application, You can generate leads more quickly. The marketing system on the CRM makes automated mails and sends them to the leads and customers about the new products or about the products which they are looking for. The mail form the application will keep customers and lead informed about the company and the product which they are looking for otherwise looking for recently bought. This will help you to keep

your customer within the environment of the company. for More Info Contact Us

#erp systems #private office #erp software

0 notes

cre8awrldallurown · 4 months

Text

Extinguish - Chapter One

I can remember the way the ignis blared so bright some days I could imagine it was maybe what sunshine might feel like if it were to ever dance along my skin. The warmth of it would radiate throughout my whole body and I would feel some semblance of peace even with the world on fire around us.

I remember the weight of your hand in mine, the feather-soft brush of your lips against my cheek, the way you could get those little hairs standing on end on every square surface of my body without nearly any effort at all, though the synchronized thumping of our heartbeats raced in union as we lay side by side under The Crying Tree.

I can remember our candid conversations about everything and nothing and the way you’d laugh with those genuine creases of ease painted in your soft brown eyes.

I remember those immediate glares you’d dole my way as my eyes would roll after every time you’ve told me I look beautiful today and everyday since you caught me stealing the music player from the Lost Levels when we were only seven.

I didn’t believe you then. That I could be beautiful in any other way that wasn’t a form of false Sainthood. But I believe you now. Because you were the only one of us who ever saw the authentic parts of me and thought they were just as beautiful as the rest of me.

I can remember every intricate detail of our time together. Every “I love you” to every “together forever.”

A tragically beautiful dream I prayed I would never wake from.

So when I woke up to find my entire world had been changed, I was most shocked to realize I couldn’t recall the most important detail.

I couldn’t remember who killed you.

******

“Haelliah, child, will you even deign to look at me, even once this session? I am only allotted so much time by Chantress Chrystine. You understand her expectations for results, do you not?” I sit, motionless, on the hand-molded moltentanium lounger, though my lack of motion has nothing to do with comfort despite the title given to furniture by The Old Ones. There are no soft fabrics here. No plush throw blankets or pillows like I’ve seen in our historical references for a world long gone. Lounging is a luxury this new world can no longer afford, unfortunately.

I stare blankly out of the intricately carved windows of the office of our resident sawbones. He’s the only medically-inclined human male remaining in this world and he’s only as effective as the resources that were left here at the end of everything–that have dwindled to nothing after all this time. That clipboard in his smug hand was fished out of some forgotten cabinet from the bunker that was built into this volcano over twenty years ago in preparation for the occurrence of us in the here and now.

They say the world used to be calm and clear, mostly, yet all I have ever known is ash and heat and ignis and smoke.

What little of the human population that managed to make it to this stronghold have only various bits and pieces of the story as to how the world came to crack apart all of a sudden, though it is truly anyone's guess. The Rift is an origin story told through the ancient game of “telephone…” information muddled over the years because most data was lost, the technology capable of reading data with it, and actual paper documents from that time nearly extinct. Literally shredded into confetti by the world itself. Or set ablaze and up in smoke, if you’re here.

“Haelliah, Saint of The Forge, are you even listening to me?” Dr. Karl’s voice rings with this sarcastic frustration that makes me want to punch him in the throat. Instead, I twist my head away from the window with moving ignis being the only available view, give him an empty stare just to let him know I had heard him, then slowly turned my neck back to that window-not-a-window once again, signifying I wasn’t actually listening to whatever it was he thought I needed to hear. I hear nothing but the glowing noise that is the ever-moving, never-stagnant ignis flowing throughout this glorified kingdom on fire.

“You know, Haelliah, you will have to eventually come to terms with the reasons as to why you are now to be sequestered here. You truly need to come face to face with your pain, child, and the reality of the situation you’re in. Communication is the only way to start this healing process. You need to speak with someone. Anyone.”

Doctors portrayed by The Old Ones in our history classes are nurturing and kind. They have something they used to call “bedside manners” —-whatever that means. Dr. Karl is not a medical professional from when The Old Ones still roamed the earth, even if his age places him well before The Rift occurred. There’s speculation amongst the Lost Levels that his job before the apocalypse was to be a high school gym teacher. Or maybe some used car salesman. Or a mailman… professions that no longer exist. From a world that could never exist again.

Letting out a real frustrated sigh this time, Dr. “Face-Your-Pain” Karl wipes his bald head of sweat before he punches a few numbers into the moltentanium table beside him. I feel pity for the display embedded there being abused under the wrath of his stubby fingers. A short chirp plucks through the room and then his exasperatedly stern monotone,

“Take her back to her chambers. She’s still unresponsive to treatment.” We wait in weighted silence thick as the blanket of humidity that we can never escape here, not even in the Royal Levels. The moltentanium door opens with a swift push and my current key keeper, Nancie, a chosen governess meant to keep me in line, enters the room. She’s the more gentle of the three that have been assigned to me since… well.

“Come along now, my Saint.” She was born before The Rift too, an elder with dark graying curls and wrinkles around her compassionate, yet hardened eyes. I couldn’t begin to imagine the world she’s seen before this one, or what a person who isn’t a saint has to do in order to survive here. I know she’s somehow connected to the Lost Levels, though, because she still carries relics from a religion now forbidden. I’ve caught her reading from this indecently tiny pocket-sized Bible when she thinks I’m sleeping. Sometimes I have snuck glimpses of the slip of silver jewelry hanging around her neck and tucked into her governess-designated hooded robes. It’s a small silver cross, a symbol I know to be from that same book she reads. She almost reminds me of his mother in that subtle way she can hold her calm composure and her raging “inside storms” all at the same time. That’s what she used to say, anyway. Everyone has secrets, dilemmas, and inside storms through which they must endure. Nancie’s hidden storms are safe with mine, despite mine not being safe with anyone. Everyone except him.

“Up her dose again tonight, Governess.” My blood immediately boils at the grating sound of Dr. Karl’s voice having to say some last words before that door closes behind us. Whatever he’s been putting in my nightly tea has not helped me. Or my memory. My head hasn’t been clear in days. Weeks. How long has it been? Maybe years.

Nancie leads me through the halls by my elbow, her fingers spreading another layer of warmth through my forearm, but as soon as we round the corner and out of sight of the sentinels standing vigilant at Dr. Karl’s door, she drops the entire enforcing stern governess act and I am suddenly left cold again.

“I do not have any warm regards for that man either, little saint. A man of authority should uphold to a certain point of integrity, as any spiritual leader around here should. The temple groans when he enters its holy space, you know. I’ve heard it. He is no man of the gods, old or new,” She is mumbling to me softly, and I listen to every word, though she pauses as if she expects me to interject and respond. As if she forgets I no longer have a voice. “...I know you’re not fond of speaking, lately, heck, who could blame you after all that’s happened since The Rites. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I were in your position. But, if it helps you to know, just a smidge, little saint… I don’t believe for a minute that you did what they are all accusing you of.” She stops short just outside of my chambers, gives me this sympathetic look like she has any inkling of true understanding into my position. She continues, “You have about ten minutes before the next governess arrives for watch. I suggest you utilize this time wisely, little saint.” A swift consoling pat on my left shoulder, a sneaky wink at the two sentinels standing guard outside my chamber door, and off she saunters down the hall.

The woman is sincerely sweet, as the other gaggle of governess’ don’t seem bothered to try. Too busy hating me or exalting me, I suppose. There’s usually only one of the two any given day here at The Forge; hate or exalt, love or deny, smother or neglect. Today I am not in the mood for any of the above–sweet, hate, or otherwise…

My door is securely shut behind me with a heavy clunk of the lock, also crafted with our favorite resident element known as moltentanium. Everything in the upper ten Royal Levels is constructed with it, melded into the ignis mountain and even extending beneath it for ten more levels, the original bunker directly beneath all of them. The entirety of the internal ventilation systems, from the Lost Levels in the lowest parts of the old bunker to the storage bays to the market to the resident rooms to the education wing–you guessed it, moltentanium structured and ignis powered. I take a deep breath of recycled smoke-free air and face my rooms. Another lounger resembling the one in Dr. Karl’s office sits beside a viewing window overlooking the sweltering hills and valleys on fire cushioned away amongst the smoke crawling through the lands.

The stretched stewardess on that lounger instantly uprights herself at my entrance, and I listen at the door a moment more just to ensure no one hears me when I ask her, “Do you have them?”

Tia has been my steward for nearly a decade now and is as lively as they come. Even though her parents perished long before she and I began our friendship, and her brother perished only a few years back, she’s still smiling in this smoke-smothered hell. Yeah, she’s as crazy as it gets, and, well, she also clings to every syllable that passes through my lips, like maybe if she doesn’t, then I’ll consider beginning to treat her as I have everyone else these past few weeks. With disdain-filled silence.

“Of course, Hailey, I’ve only been doing this for how long?” She tosses a small tin into the air and I swipe it with one hand. My reflexes are getting better. I wonder briefly if Tia notices before I crack the tin open, pick out one of the rolled herbal cigarettes, flick open the lighter, and take a sweetly slow-burning inhale. I stalk the length of the viewing window, back and forth like the caged cats in the zoos they show in the historical videos. The irony of the flame and the smoke filling my lungs doesn’t escape me. I take another long drag anyway.

This place reminds me of those facilities of the old world. The ones where the people were labeled insane, criminal, or other, tossed into a locked room, and only ever given the barest minimum of freedoms. I’d trade places with them, I think, rather than face the prison in which I truly stand. This dungeon made of volcanic ash where Dr. “Face-Your-Pain” evaluates my state of well-being to distinguish whether or not I am ready to be placed before the Governess Guild to have my fate handed to me yet again. A fate I never had a hand in creating for myself to begin with. Right alongside that brief fleeting notion of a plan of escape that is now an impossibility. Oh, how I wished this were simple insanity, delusions and hallucinations I would manifest to avoid a grim world. But, no. This world is more ruthless than any insane delusion I could ever concoct in my imagination. This world will still criminalize and then crucify their “Beloved Unburnt Saint” in a heartbeat. They do it at least once a year.

******

NINETEEN DAYS AFTER THE RITES

BEEP… beep beep… BEEP… beep beep!

The sound was steady and incessant, echoing through my brain and filling the spaces between my ears with pain. I begged silently for it to stop, but to no avail. My limbs were heavy, as if infused with lead, and I ached to move them even an inch.

Where am I? How did I get here? I picked apart my mind for the last thing I could remember before now, but found nothing but solid walls of pressure and pain. With the careful flutter of my eyelids, I tried to see something, anything, but immediately grimaced at the harsh light of an all too real world. My eyes apparently needed to adjust to light again. The darkness seemed to dull the pain, and I eased back into its comfort, drifting into familiar peace.

The next time I woke up, I knew not to open my eyes right away. I strained my ears and my other senses instead. That beeping was ongoing, seemingly louder than before. What kind of machine makes that noise, I wondered? I started to tune into my sense of touch and began to feel things I hadn’t before. A makeshift torture meant for only me. My breathing was slow--achingly slow--and I wasn’t in control of it. I could feel the pull of my lungs expanding on their own, without me having to tell them to do so, and then contracting all the same, my power of will obsolete. My arms and legs were immobile, heavy like before, and when I paid closer attention I could feel sharp solid material cutting into my wrists.

My eyes blazed open, scorched tears working their way to the surface, panic setting in fast. It was dark and I was alone. I screamed but no sound came out, and I realized there was something shoved down my throat, scratching and biting and gagging me. I thrashed around, tried to break free, but I could feel everything all over and all at once. I felt every ounce of energy I did not have. Every pin prick pain stabbing through my legs, head, shoulders, knees and chest. Every move only made the pain worse. The room was suddenly crowded with noise as the beep sounds I first heard got quicker.

BEEP BEEP beep beep BEEP BEEP!

A door opened somewhere off to the side of me and hushed voices flooded my darkened torture chamber. It is this moment where I am convinced this is where I’ll die. Not in the brightness of the hot ignis, but in the cold. In the dark.

“Quickly, Aby, get the display. She’s waking up.” An older woman’s stern whisper. Someone fumbling around closer to my head. Then nothing. Silence. The brazen beeps ceased completely.

I kept trying to move, to breathe, to escape. I could feel hot tears soaking my cheeks and puddling at the back of my neck to soak my hair. This uncomfortable sensation in itself is what I clung to as a form of proof that I wasn’t stuck in some twisted nightmare. This was very much real.

“Sweet Saint Haelliah, please try to relax your body. You are safe. Everything is going to be okay. We’ve just had to locate the remaining stock of the sedative agent, you’re going to feel a sharp prick, then some ease into those strained muscles. Just find your calm, girl.” I don’t know who you are–who are you? How could I trust these words? If I’m truly safe then let me go–let me breathe! A pinch on my arm joined all of my other physical pains and then liquid relief seeped into my veins. One by one, each pin and needle pain dancing along my skin dulled to a mild throb and my head began to fog. Every muscle in my body that was just kicked into high gear not even a moment ago now turned pliable, much like the fusion process of moltentanium with the ignis of The Forge. A material that can be refined enough to make clothing and armor, and also as robust enough to make furniture, weapons, and architecture.

“She seems so… small. Did she really kill that boy from the pilgrimage?”

“You are still young enough to believe every lie you’ve ever heard, so I’ll only say this–speculation surrounding our Saint Haelliah isn’t how we get her better. Best to keep our curiosity to ourselves and our mind on our healing practice. What we were brought here to do. Chantress will have our heads if we are caught distracted by rumors, Abyghail.”

“I know, you’re right. I just–his sister–well, she was here earlier demanding answers… and the Lost Levels are in complete discord. All of the sentinels have been dispatched there leaving us up here exposed…”

“Exposed to what, Aby? It’s the Lost Levels that we need protecting from… they’re literally doing their jobs as we should now. Come along. She needs to sleep. We’ll get Dr. Karl and he’ll take care of her breathing supports. Hurry, before she comes around again…”

Lost Levels in complete discord and his sister demanding answers… answers to what? Before my mind could begin to contemplate, darkness drew me in once more.

The doctor noticed my consciousness first this time and he proceeded to coax me back into a reality I wasn’t sure I was ever truly ready for.

“Haelliah, you are in the infirmary of the old bunker. This was the safest place for you after… Well, we’ll get to all of that. You have been in a sort of coma for the past 19 days. Ironic for having just celebrated your 19th birthday. I believe you suffered from an anoxic brain injury and you have had several contusions to the back of your head. You may feel a bit disoriented and confused for some time, some adjusting to even simple general motor functioning. Acute amnesia may also be an obstacle, though all of this is temporary, of course, and completely reversible in time.”

The pretentious medicine man knows many things, surely. What could he possibly begin to understand about a girl sainted at birth as the “Unburnt” –a baby baptized in lava every year on that very day she was born? He checked my vitals, double-checking with his clipboard against the displays beeping at my head. Then he questioned my general memory–what my name was, what the year was, the name of my stewardess, etc.

The tube that had once been choking me had been removed from my throat, but I noticed he didn’t care to mention the restraints holding me down to this bed. I briefly wondered if he was the one to place them on my wrists and ankles himself. Before I could dwell on the thought, an armed sentinel barges into the room, Chantress Chrystine hot on his uniformed heels.

“Haelliah, there are questions that need answers–”

“She is just now waking up and is still too weak to be coherent enough to answer to your scrutiny, Chantress.” Dr. Karl stood up to be a barrier of sorts between my bed and the raging half-faced woman. Her headpiece is secured as she shakes her head in disapproval, and I can feel her eyes attempting to lock into mine, despite the fact that her headpiece prohibits anyone from seeing hers.

Voice calm yet commanding, Chantress Chrystine doesn’t ever raise her voice. She never needed to. Her voice is mostly what the people of The Forge hear. All day. Every day. Her voice is law here. Especially when she’s speaking through me.

“Have her prepared to attend temple this evening, Dr. Karl.”

“Hasn’t our saint been through enough for today? She needs time to heal and adjust. She’ll be ready when she’s ready.”

“We’re running out of time. She’s to stand before The Guild live this evening. Whether she is coherent or not. Do what you have to do, Doctor.” Her annunciation of the syllables in that last word were almost a child-like mimicry before her staccato heels retreated down the hallway.

I could feel the tension rolling off of those remaining in my room, but I kept my focus on the doctor. He would tell me what was going on. He’d be able to tell me where Jaidyn was, why he isn’t here with me. Please, just tell me what happened… I struggled to separate my cracked lips to form words, though it was still too much effort. My eyelids were getting heavy once again, the anger in the air dissipating into concern as I fought to stay awake. The doctor looked at me, his expression grim with worry. Then nothing but darkness.

I was staring at this clock on the wall, hands frozen in a time long lost. I could feel the despair creeping into the back of my mind as I attempted to even decipher how to tell time, finding it almost comical to think that a ticking line going around a circle could mean anything to anyone anywhere. Or that it could mean anything without the rest of the context. What day is it? What year is it? How do you measure time in a firestorm? Does the ignis need to know the time at all?

The frozen clock’s white face nearly blended in with the stark walls, the only stereotype of an Old One hospital that I could pinpoint beyond the outdated technology beeping beside my head and the long tube apparently coming out of my arm.

My arm, still held down at my side, I wondered why I was still being restrained and why no one had thought to mention as to why. My hands and my feet, unconscious though needing to be cuffed to a bed… was it for my safety or for theirs? I wanted to move. I wanted out of this hard, uncomfortable, hell of a bed. I wanted answers. I wanted him. The room was bare of anything else, no decorations nor fixtures of any kind. No signs of anything resembling life. So I simply kept staring at the timeless clock with frozen hands and wondered about the concept of time passing and restraints keeping prisoners. That was, until the door swung open and a medic walked in.

She held a moltentanium cup in her hands and she tipped it over my lips silently, instantly freezing them. Ice. A commodity only a select few here in The Forge can honestly say they’ve experienced. I opened my mouth wider to let in even more chips of the blessed cold, careful not to swallow right away. I wanted that roughness in my throat to ease, but I knew I’d need to be cautious. I looked the medic over as she fed me the ice chips slowly. Her yellow-blonde hair didn’t seem quite natural under the false lighting set into the upper corners of the walls. Her eyes were a glassy blue, filled with curiosity. I didn’t recognize her, though I could tell she was one of the Royal Level daughters. Fresh out of medicine training from the looks of it. Her tunic was threaded with moltentanium lines that spelled out her name on her upper left shoulder.

Abyghail. She seemed timid, not looking me directly in the eye right away, and there was this sense of unease that put this knot of anxiousness into my stomach. I wanted to ask her questions, maybe figure out why she was holding my cup instead of allowing me to hold it. Maybe find out what the date was, or the time of day, since it seemed to bother me so much. I wanted to ask her how I had gotten here to begin with and where he was. He had to have been here to see me right? There was no way that he would have left me here to wake up alone.

My muscles tensed as she leaned over to finally release me from the ornate moltentanium cuffs at my wrists. Someone had taken the time to carve a fancy design into them. As if someone had had the thought that a saint would be wearing them and so warranted a fashionable twist. Then she uncuffed my ankles; same design. I thanked her with a silent nod of my head as she helped me sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. My feet tingled as they came into contact with the cold hard floor and I involuntarily shivered. Old One floors were made of linoleum and concrete, I remember... We must be deep underground.

“Do you need to use the restroom?” She asked and I was startled by the sound of her voice, coming out as cold as the floor beneath my toes. No title or even awed politeness, typically the residents of this city address me in some recognition of my birth-given sainthood. At the very least, they hold some variation of reverence. Maybe even fear, given my other title. Unburnt.

I was still sore, though most of my pain had subsided, almost. She crouched under me so I could lean on her to stand, and together we hobbled over to a room off to the side that I hadn’t been able to see from my position in the bed before. There was a mirror above the sink that I was itching to look into, but my aid directed me over to the toilet, stepping directly in front of it and effectively blocking my view. After releasing the contents of my bladder for what felt like hours, she walked me back to the bed again, only now her demeanor seemed to have lightened a bit.

“I just want to say that I really am very sorry for your loss, Saint. I could never imagine what you're going through.” Her voice was flimsy in her sincerity, which was about as fake as her hair color. I couldn’t help it, I simply stared at her, empty, wondering what she was talking about. I was about to ask but she clarified on her own.

“Oh, sweet saint, you don’t remember killing him?” She touched my shoulder and I flinched, her words echoing through my rattled mind. Blood rushed to my skull in a flash of pain I had never experienced before. My body slumped without my consent and she had to keep me from falling to the floor. Kill who? My mind screamed. Where’s Jaidyn? Abyghail continued, as though she weren’t delivering the deepest of cuts, “It’s probably best that you have no memory of it, though it isn’t something the people here will ever forget anytime soon, that’s for sure. I’m sure killing that Jaidyn boy will be a tough one to get over. Don’t worry though, I’m sure you’ll still have followers to praise you in the Lost Dungeon. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” She smiled wide and purposefully, her nails now biting into my shoulder. Why was this girl being so blatantly cruel to me?

I allowed her words to sink in. That boy… Jaidyn boy. Killing… dead. Lost Dungeon… where the worst of the worst of us are kept in the bowels of the Lost Levels. I tried to back away. I tried to push her off. I needed to get out of here. I needed her to stop lying to me. I needed to find him. NOW.

I stumbled sideways and back, quickly losing my footing, slamming into the wall beside the Old One machinery, knocking the display from its stand and sending it crashing into the floor. It felt like that hose had been shoved back down my throat forcing my lungs to breathe at a pace not my own. Air ripped from my chest and I clawed at my heart with both hands, gasping for air, and I could see her approaching me like I was some wounded animal.

“You should take it easy, Saint Haelliah. I’m only here to deliver the news, not hurt you.” The girl with fake hair and even more fake emotions was talking still. Why was she still talking?

It hit me with a force getting stronger with every passing moment I was forced to listen to her words playing back in my head. Jaidyn’s dead. Jaidyn’s dead. Jaidyn. Dead. Jaidyn.

I heard a piercing scream that jolted me out of my head and it only took a moment to realize it was coming from me. In this moment I could also somehow find more than enough energy to push myself toward her. I didn’t realize this kind of growing grief swelling inside of me could lend to such a kind of adrenaline as this.

I launched myself at the girl, her dark eyes widening right before we clammored to the floor. I guess maybe I wasn’t ready to stand all on my own yet, but I had this disaster of a medicine aid to break my fall. I blacked out after that. I don’t remember punching her fifteen times in the head. I don’t remember there having to be five different people needed simply to yank me off of her.

Looking back now, it makes sense. Stupid games win stupid prizes, as the Old Ones would summarize it. Maybe she got what she deserved. Maybe I just needed the truth, answers to the doubt she had purposely planted into my mind. Maybe I just needed you.

I guess Commanding Officer, Mahrkus Eruzik, was awaiting my grand awakening because he, too, had several questions that needed answering about what occurred at The Rites. So many, in fact, that they warranted his sitting outside of my room until he could be granted access. There were other medics bustling about the hospital wing that literally dropped trays of tools to respond to my screaming that could be heard throughout several levels. I’m not even sure where I discovered the voice for this, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. No matter who was tugging at me.

Honestly, though, had I been more aware of the Commanding Officer and surrounding bodies of authority, I probably wouldn’t have tried making things a lot worse by attacking some dumb medic without a single clue. I maybe would have attempted to prevent myself from seeming as though I had completely lost my whole mind. But, then again, this would be what losing my sanity would look like… I had just gone from a coma patient of the bunker’s hospital wing suspected of murder to an insane coma patient suspected of murder and who now beats up on immature medics. To make matters worse–I found the power of my legs and enough adrenaline to try to run. I managed to slip out of an orderly grip and under the legs of another and right out the door. The thin gossamer gown they had me dressed in waving in my breeze as I whooshed out of the room like I could find somewhere on the opposite end of the universe to go… I knew there was nowhere to run. Yet, I did anyway.

So… now I am this bat shit crazy coma patient who enjoys beating on medics who don’t know how to shut up, the top suspect in the murder of Jaidyn Edwards, and a fucking attempted fugitive. I might as well have been as stupid as that goddamn medic.

But with my recent luck, I should have also known that I wouldn’t have even gotten out of the bunker’s infirmary. The sentinels stationed there snatched me before I could even set one foot onto the lift at the end of the hall. After that, I lost my voice. Well, more or less, I simply chose to try to remain as invisible as possible and hope that maybe this nightmare would just fade away.

Here’s a spoiler, though, this is not at all a nightmare.

******

I take another pacing step and halt right before slamming into Tia.

“You’re agitated. Why?” She’s curious and concerned all at once.

“They expect me to face my pain.” I hear my own voice come out of my mouth in a barely audible whisper. I send a silent prayer to the skies I cannot see to a saint I could never be that I don’t actually sound as horrified as I am.

Tia perches herself against the corner of the viewing window, her back braced against the frame shimmering in its onyx moltentanium hues. She pats the space on the supporting beam beside her and I follow along, my back on the cooling material, my left shoulder brushed up against her right. Together we slide to sit on the floor in tandem, folding our knees up to our chests and tilting our heads toward each other until they meet at the temples. Just like we used to do all the time when we were growing up.

“The way you cope with your pain, Hails, is something that can’t be forced. It’s one of those things that’s either going to happen or it isn’t. Friends are good for coping. Not doctors or medics or guilds of governess,’ which is pretty much the majority here. Like anyone else here in this burning civilization, you have probably forsaken all hope in ever coping with anything. Which is when you cope alone. You scream, you cry, you beg the gods above, and whatever else makes you feel better all by yourself. You see, the people who were meant to be in our lives will be in our lives. Whether we want them there or not. Those who broke us down and cast us aside are only living proof of how strong of a person we really are… and, Hailey, you have been broken down your whole life. It becomes up to us then, the broken ones, to pick up the pieces and forgive. As Fate would have it, darling unburnt saint, everything happens for a reason. And you should know by now in your nineteen years of existence, that reason will always be you.”

#let chaos reign #storm series #extinguish #the forge #science fiction #science fantasy #novel #writers on tumblr #author

0 notes

u-n-s-a-i-d-w-o-r-d-s · 2 years

Text

Uncertainty That was the theme if our relationship, It was doomed from the start. I always say I cant do this anymore but i always find motivation to do it. I make excuses for your behavior and you make excuses of mine. We always try to make it work even though all odds are against us. " This time we'll do it right." We both said as our voice synchronized together and our hands shake from the uncertainty of our foredoom bond. We both knew what the outcome we'll be, it'll be the same shit all over again, same problems arising and maybe even new ones but we still do it for the sake our dysfunctional attachment that likely ruined not just you and me entirely but both of our lives and the people around us. The only thing important and the only thing in our minds at the time is that we love each other and nothing we'll likely stop us from being together in our own safe little bubble that we call our relationship. It's like as if the universe like playing with us. It's like we're their little puppets that they can play for their own sick little entertainment. Like we're just little things that can past the time when their bored. Sad, but we don't really care what they think as long as we have each other. Two against the world. We were alike in many ways but more different in one. The perfect balance, the very definition of yin and yang, masculine and feminine, we fitted each other like missing pieces in a nearly completed puzzle. You were my sun and I was your moon. You gave me light when i did not have it. You reflected your pureness and innocence onto me and that's why i became the moon. The moon that now provides a light into your otherwise sad lonely night, you gave all your light onto me and thats whay you've burned out of it and it left you in ashes. Ruined and burned to the core without any guideline. That's why I became your moon, your little moonlight, your guideline in the night, in the night where the darkest depth of yourself were in control, those nights that you were hopeless and desperate for some help. I came onto on you that night, comforted you for the time being even kiss you goodnight. We cuddled like never before, afraid one of us would go away because when the its morning and the morning sun seep through your white curtain I will be gone again. Never to return throughout the day until its dark again. No remains of me but the faint smell of moonlight and star dust in your lonely white bedsheets. Even so we are connected like no other. Even if we're far away from each other and even if any of us is in another timeline or lifetime, we'll be connected, whether known or not. Therefore thats why we worry not even if we are not together because we know that we have an underlying connection that will continue our link throughout our next lifetime. I love you and I will you continue on loving you.

Sincerely yours, tu luz de luna

0 notes

underneath-all-currents · 2 years

Text

On Wanting To Be Here

You know it really is something special - particularly nowadays - to run into someone who also wants to be in the place that you are. Like finding people at my work who like being around other people at our work is genuinely invigorating now, whereas... I don’t know. I can’t say that it was that different beforehand, because I didn’t have a ‘real’ career until COVID hit, most of mine were part-time gigs or student jobs or summer camp staffs and things like that.

Outside of the brief time I spent at age 23 working in the wine store, I was mostly a temporary summer worker or a student part-timer (I worked in the dorms in undergrad, was a peer-tutor and GTA in graduate school) so I was surrounded by other students mostly, and I think it’s easier for people who are in the same boat like that to build a healthier working community (the only time in which I was in a worker union was during that period as well). What’s been hard is that I’ve entered the work world at a time when everything’s mostly in a state of hybridity, rarely is anyone in their office. This has been disappointing to me as I like going to work and I like my job and I like other people.

My opinion on hybridity in work is I think logical though it might strike you as paradoxical initially: I find working from home to be an absolutely miserable inhuman experience, and I never, ever want to work from home as my job. Granted, I live in a one-bedroom apartment by myself, I’m single, and I like my job, and I feel that it’s valuable to do my job (post-secondary school student support, a.k.a. “tutoring”) in person. I know that this is not the case for everyone.

But I do think that corporate work from home should be expanded to the point that anyone who wants to work from home can work from home full time. If you can do your job to its fullest from your house, and you’re fine with that, then I would rather you do that than have to be miserable in-person at work. That sounds like a miserable life to me, personally, I’d rather die than do that - and when forced into that choice back in 2020, I leaned far too close to choosing as such - but if that makes them happy and their company works that way, then I would like you to be able to do that.

I’ve read the way that the antiwork/WFH people talk about their coworkers and I don’t want to be around them if they dislike even just the mere idea of people like me that much. I know that’s not a full swathe of opinions, and it’s skewed towards people who love being on the internet generally as . This is something I could develop into a more formal piece but I worry I’d be mean.

It would be better for me and people like me if I could know that everyone around me chose to be there and wants to be there.

Granted my specific situation is difficult as I work in higher education, which is going through a tough time right now with the transition out of the fully online learning of 2020 to whatever half-hybrid thing many places are running now. I run into the problem personally, I have time in an office every day because while probably eighty percent of my job is online tutorial sessions. I do personally feel that in-person learning is superior to online in nearly every situation, and at the very least asynchronous is superior to a synchronous online method. Yes it’s easier, yes it’s more convenient, but you’re getting less.

I am fortunate in that I am in a good position, and I like my coworkers, and I like what we do and I find it important what we do and they do as well. I think I just hate the hybrid aspect, you can’t build online, I need to try to help cultivate a good atmosphere myself.

0 notes

fueledbysano · 2 years

Text

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐈 ᴍᴀɴᴊɪʀᴏ sᴀɴᴏ

summary: The body is ruled by its own impulses; after all, it's what we can't control that makes us human. With the intensity of the moment drawing to its end, the storm calming down its winds, and a fervent rush dying as time passes, can we cool off and tidy up the messes we caused?

✧ pairing: Mikey x reader

✧ includes: part two to “Getaway Car”, angst to comfort, emotional ride, suggestive themes— nsfw, adultery

✧ a/n: I know it's been forever but I finally finished this piece, get ready. I literally played with my own feelings writing this, I hope it does the same to you >:)

wc; 3.3k

“What do you mean?”

Mikey's eyes drifted from your hair to your alluring, yet fearful eyes, and then down to your lips which he adored so much.

He recalls the butterflies and flutters in his heart the first time he kissed them. He remembered the surge of adrenaline he'd always had when you were together, but this time it was even stronger.

He loved that feeling. He wanted to feel it again, because he missed it. He missed you

and yet, he was so scared to let you in again, to take you into a life he tried to stay you out of in the first place.

But he missed you more than he could bear.

“Mikey, I want you.” You muttered quietly through a strained voice— almost too quiet, but he heard it clear as day.

His heart fluttered as he wished he could show you how he felt the same way. Until he realized he was also inspecting your face, from your eyes to your nose and, eventually, to your lips.

You had an intoxicatingly appealing gravitational pull on each other, and it was addictive.

“I want you too.” He whispered through slightly parted lips, “More than anything...”

Intuitively, Mikey allowed his hands to reach up your cheeks, carefully running his thumb over your skin while you looked into his eyes with glitter of stars which started to reflect into his.

The world stilled, and the cars passing by in the background silenced.

Only your rapidly quickening heartbeats could be heard.

You found yourselves staring into each other's lips, the enticing moment you shared with each other was now unbearable.

With Mikey's hand on your cheek softly, without thinking, his thumb drifted to ghost over your bottom lip as he stared at your frame.

Mikey leaned in just a fraction closer to your lips, and you were sure he could hear your heart beating through your chest. Your noses brushed, the obvious yearning for each other's touch was apparent as you wished nothing more than to close the space.

Until Mikey realized what he was doing, pulling back and forcing himself away from your touch.

He shook his head, keeping his gaze on the damp pavement. “But you're not mine anymore.” He painfully spoke.

“You're someone's fiancee, and I gotta respect that. We should—”

“Mikey,” You stopped him, urging his gaze to meet your concentrated ones.

But not before he was blindsided by your lips on his.

His entire body froze for a second before he instantly melted against your touch, the familiarity was comforting and he basked into the euphoria he felt with you.

You pressed your lips together, perfectly molding in a synchronized rhythm. and for a brief moment, you pulled apart to stare into each other's eyes to process what you were feeling and what had just happened.

and you smiled happily, connecting your lips eagerly once more.

You knew exactly what you were getting into, and you didn't care.

You knew this was wrong— only because you were engaged; yet, you didn't care.

all that mattered at that moment for you was each other.

When you were together, you were the screaming colors while the world was blanch.

and you loved that feeling.

you loved him.

Sparks flew at each and every touch, your hot breaths spilling into each other's mouths as you grasped closer to each other.

You took the collar of his shirt closer as Mikey's hand entangled itself in your hair, taking you impossibly closer together.

and hell, did this kiss make up for the lost twelve years.

This intense, feverish desire was fueled by the aching longing to feel the other's touch again you never knew still existed.

You wished you could hold onto the sentiment forever, but that's impossible.

Nostalgia, indeed, is the heart's way of reminding you of something you once loved.

but it is also a peculiar kind of dissatisfaction— a temporary, deceiving fondness romanticized by your broken heart.

Mikey furrowed his brows as he matched your intense passion that you poured into the kiss.

He missed this so much, he couldn't even begin to describe how unearthly perfect it felt to be with you again.

I love you, I never stopped loving you.

He hoped that he could tell that,

but it would be unfair.

“[ Name ],” As much as he hated to, Mikey pulled away from the kiss, resting your foreheads together, noses brushing as you caught up to your breaths. “I'm still taking you back.” He decided.

His words pierced like shards ready to place themselves in the chambers of your heart, but they were also just what you needed to open your eyes.

It was a sobering experience— like that really depressing moment when you wake up from your dream, the ending of your favorite song, and reading the last line of a romantic novel.

The future is terrifying; but, you can't just run back to your past because it's familiar.

Yes, it's enticing... But, it's a mistake.

You nod in agreement, taking his hands in yours, “It's just a kiss.” You assured, silently agreeing with his proposal.

The silence has never been so loud upon riding back to the chapel.

With [ Name ]'s arms secured around Mikey's frame, she let the side of her head fall on his back, refusing to watch the wedding venue's structure slowly approach to a close.

Because that also meant closing the door on her and Manjiro.

Maybe, that runaway show she pulled earlier was all about crossing their paths again, then, never looking back.

“You're here.” He spoke upon hitting the brakes, before getting off first and then taking her hand in his for assistance.

But there was just something hindering [ Name ] from stepping foot in the building once more, watching the ceremony area fill with guests from a distance still horrified the bride.

“Mikey.” She called, in which he hummed in response, hands in pockets as he leaned on his motorcycle seat.

“I can't walk through there, sneak me in?” She asks.

The sight of [ Name ] holding out her hand hor him to take only made it impossible to say no.

“Alright.” He nods before taking the keys out of the ignition, taking her hand as she heads towards the building's fire escape at the back.

“Yep, this is me.” Upon reaching the second floor, [ Name ] points at her room's balcony before letting Mikey pull her up.

“Thank god I didn't lock this.” She mumbled before pushing the glass doors open, leading back to the room she was just getting ready in earlier.

The silence in the room was deafening, but, upon looking back at Mikey at the balcony, he watched [ Name ] with a bittersweet smile, admiring her from afar.

The moment felt excruciatingly familiar, particularly from the letter he'd written her twelve years ago.

“I'm afraid to look you in the eyes because I won't be able to walk away.”

Except, this time, he really had no choice but to do just that— look her in the eyes and walk away.

“You're back here now.” He spoke. [ Name ] knew exactly where this conversation is going. and she didn't exactly like it.

and what she doesn't know is that the longer he stays, is just the more she'd want him.

She's going to do just that.

“Why? Come in...” She offered, taking his hands in hers and then pulling him inside the room, closing the balcony doors shut.

“You know I'm gonna have to leave at some point.” He pointed out.

“But not now.” [ Name ] replied fearlessly, subconsciously toying with his hair and accidentally tugging on it which earned a sharp inhale from Mikey.

A smug smile painted on her lips, “Stay.” He smiled back at her words, both of them now subtly swaying from side to side.

“Make me.” He answered.

“Oh,” He felt a finger hook underneath his chin, gently guiding him to look up and meet [ Name ]'s eyes.

But when he met her stare this time, her eyes seemed to darken, and half lidded, now matching his. Intense, yet pristine.

“[ Name ]...” his voice came out as a mere whisper, breath hitching in his throat.

The mood in the room suddenly shifted, rays of sunlight seeping through the curtains illuminated the dim space.

Mikey reached a hand up to cup [ Name ]'s cheek, stroking her jawline with his thumb. His eyes locked on her lips before colliding them with his own once again.

Their lips danced across each other's, pouring in twice the affection they shared earlier. His hands wandered her waist, while [ Name ]'s hands grasped and pulled on the buttons of his shirt to pull him closer to her, as if it was even possible.

Tongues danced as they explored the familiar taste of each other, mouths moving before their minds did.

Their breaths picked up, as did their heart rates as he held onto her body tighter.

and before [ Name ] knew it, she suddenly felt Mikey's hands grip her upper thighs to hoist her onto the bed in the middle of the room.

He knocked off the petals and flowers to make room for her to set down. She let out an accidental yelp, earning a smug smirk from Mikey against her lips as his hands returned to her upper thighs.

He knelt in between her legs, her sheath dress allowing limited access to the closeness he wanted with her. His lips broke apart from hers with a soft sound, their noses touching and lips swollen; hovering over each other with raspy, hot breaths.

[ Name ] caught Mikey's darkened gaze, his emotion particularly radiating with lust.

But before she could get a word in, his lips were on hers again, sharing desperate, needy open-mouthed kisses.

Breathless moans and whines escaped their lips from the earnest kiss they shared, intensifying with every passing second.

Until [ Name ] had the buttons of his shirt undone, completely discarding the clothing further down the bed before his eyes looked down at hers with a dark glance, then planting his lips to her sweet spot.

His breath against her skin sent shivers down her spine, making her lean her neck to expose more of her skin to him.

“God damn it,” She took a fistful of his hair before beinging his lips back up to hers once more before he could leave marks.

He hoist her further up the mattress to wrap her legs around his hips, now bunching up the fabric of her dress further.

[ Name ] gasped upon feeling his cold fingers make contact with her sensitive skin, his index hooking at the seams of her underwear before dragging them off her thighs painfully slow, while Mikey had a complacent smile on for having to be doing something that [ Name ]'s fiancee should've rightfully been doing. Yet, instead, the pleasure was all his; having her writhe underneath his touch.

“Wanna fuck you,” They kept the intensity of their kiss as he undid the button of his jeans, eagerly slipping off his underwear partially.

“Eyes on me, darling.” He orders. "Mhm." [ Name ] was too entranced into his eyes to even feel the stretch the tip of his dick was giving her as he slowly slid inside.

"Fuck!" [ Name ] threw her head back, struggling to speak as the sensation only grew better the deeper he sunk in. "Oh my god..." He groaned in bliss as his hips slammed down onto her own, his dick splitting her walls as it took him perfectly.

His body rested on top of hers as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear about how well she was taking him. The contact is especially intimate on top of his affirmations.

He stilled for a good minute, letting her adjust before giving one deep roll. The sound he got from her was more than reassuring. It felt wonderful, for them both.

His cock had a slight curve to it that pressed right against the pleasure spot deep within her, the one his fiancee would never reach.

The feeling of finally being one after twelve years all led up to tonight and their emotions were running high. Mikey felt incredibly emotional with a warm feeling spreading deep in his chest as she looked down at [ Name ]. This definitely had got to be one of the best things that had happened to him in a while.

Her fingers tangling through his strands had pulled him back to reality.

"You feel so good." [ Name ] said with a smile while rutting his hips into hers. Mikey searched for any trace of regret in her eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and admiration. It was overwhelming. His emotions were finally catching up to him.

“Oh fuck,” He breathe out, now creating a steady rhythm in and out of her.

His pace began to grow aggressive, lips dancing across [ Name ]'s before balancing himself on the bedframe with his available hand.

[ Name ] found the sight incredibly hot, smiling against the kiss before hooking her legs around his hips to secure their connection.

It was then that Mikey picked up the pace of his thrusts, hands gripping firmly on your hip and on the bed frame.

“God fucking damn,” she cursed upon feeling one of her leg get thrown over Mikey's shoulder, hitting even an impossibly further spot.

“Why? He can't fuck you this good?” The sound of skin clapping together bounced off the walls of the room, through the bed creaking and the breathy moans of them mixing together like a symphony.

[ Name ] felt herself writhing underneath his touch, stomach clenched in a knot, all the tension built up waiting for a release.

“Shit, I'm—” He whispered into the crook of her neck, head lifting to meet her eyes.

[ Name ] nod in approval, and it wasn't long before he picked up his pace impossibly quicker.

Her breathy moans of his name was enough to make him shoot his release, after immediately pulling out, while she felt her own release pushing her over the edge in ecstasy while Mikey emptied himself on her thighs.

Until he collapsed on top of her, sweat coming in contact with the material of her gown.

Mikey decided to silence his whines of pleasure by latching his lips onto her exposed skin, fingers tiredly hovering over her forearm.

“[ Name ]? Are you okay?” [ Name ] and Mikey immediately froze, his lips still in the crook of her neck upon hearing Hina's voice from the hallway.

“Uh, yeah.” She casually spoke as if Mikey wasn't currently nipping at her clavicle.

His lips shifted to kiss up her neck, then jaw, making her want to let out another yelp of pleasure.

“Do you need help getting ready?”

“Uh, no!” She almost yelled. “I mean, I got this, thank you.”

“Okay, ceremony's starting soon!”

“Oh shit.” [ Name ] turned back to meet Mikey's deviant gaze. “You're naughty.” She chuckled, stealing one last kiss from his lips.

“I know.” He put on a proud smile, watching her catch her breath and recover from their licentious deeds.

“Let me walk you down the aisle.” Mikey propped his head up, genuinely serious about the idea, which only earned a chuckle from [ Name ].

“That's a bad idea.” She spoke.

“This is a bad idea.” He remarked, tracing a hand up her thigh from under the blanket, eliciting a laugh from [ Name ].

“What you gonna say? Your fiance's gonna kill me? You know that doesn't threaten me.” He proudly spoke.

“I know.” She replied, turning on her side to face him.

“It's a good thing...” [ Name ] trailed off, tracing her fingers over Mikey's features. “Let's just say... he doesn't know who Sano Manjiro was to me.” She ghosted her thumb over his lips before planting a kiss.

“We should get ready.”

The officiator came out and asked everyone to stand up. It was starting, all eyes would be on the bride now.

“I think it's my time.” [ Name ] spoke to Mikey behind closed doors upon hearing their officiator speak.

“It is.” He replied, hooking their arms together before he took her hand,

“I wish you all the best.” They both didn't dare look at each other, because if they did, tears would be involved and would raise too many questions.

“Have a great life with him, [ Name ].” Was his last well-wishing words he spoke to her along with a kiss on the forehead, before the grand doors open for them to step out of.

The guests look at her, taking photos of your dress, waving, smiling, questioning who was the man with you. and no one made a sound except the quartet playing a beautiful harmony.

[ s / o ] could only focus solely on [ Name ], teary eyed upon finally seeing her in the long awaited day.

While [ Name ] kept on a timid look, throwing [ s / o ] a thin smile until they come to a stop, now feeling Mikey's grasp untangle from hers.

He offered her a painful smile, now passing her hand onto [ s / o ]'s before taking his seat a few benches down the altar.

"You're bringing not just each other's devotion into your lives, but also the companionship and gift of profound trust. You're committing to share your strength, duties, and love with one other, as this partnership need more than just love to succeed." It was now time for words and speech of wisdom, lecturing everyone.

"It takes trust, to know in your hearts that you want only the best for each other. It takes dedication, to stay open to one another, to learn and grow, even when it is difficult to do so. And it takes faith, to go forward together without knowing what the future holds for you both." The officiator spoke.

The word "love" appears in a lot of stories, yet no one can really describe what love is, and that shouldn't be a problem.

Much has been said; nonetheless, it is not always possible to express how you feel about someone in words.

You simply just do.

[ s / o ] is in pure tears upon listening to the officiator's words to the couple, while [ Name ] appreciated them, yet, continuing to gaze off elsewhere in the room.

Maybe, they should've gone for a municipal court wedding, just a quick and easy process.

Here's the thing about mistakes—

“And you, [ Name ] and [ s / o ]—” The officiator's words got cut short upon seeing a white-haired man stand from the crowd, as if contemplating to speak.

everyone else in the room followed, sending him deathly and confusing looks.

“Sorry.” Mikey apologized before taking his seat.

Hina, stood by the altar just a few steps from [ Name ] knew that the man felt and looked familiar; she just couldn't make out who he was.

But, upon hearing his voice, she got closer to figuring it out.

“As I was saying you—”

Sometimes, even when you know something's a mistake, you gotta make it anyway.

“I love you, [ Name ].” Mikey had finally gathered all the courage in him. It was now or never, because if he'd sit this one out a little later, then, it's over.

His unseemly confession elicited gasps from everyone, some guests starting to whisper and gossip with one another.

Hina gasped upon the realization, finally pinpointing who the man is

“Manjiro...” [ Name ] faintly spoke, not expecting his statement at all.

“I love you, I never stopped loving you.” He simply spoke.

[ Name ] didn't know what took over her, but, one second; she was on the altar, the next, she's dashing down the aisle, taking Mikey by the hand, and sprinting out of the place together just like how she did earlier.

But now, with Mikey. She chose him.

Laughters of joy filled the air as Mikey and [ Name ] cruised down the highway, basking into their great escape.

Okay, yes, it's a mistake.

You know it's a mistake. But, it was a beautiful mistake and you don't regret anything.

and you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Fly for this while, let the world collapse. You'll come back to build another one of your own with Mikey.

Just yours.

tagging: @avi-ren @r-indou @cinnamonruts @qualitygiantshoepsychic @skebrii @night-shadowblood-writes2 @shujispet @7ittlemeow @yolotokyoo @sinfullsun @rositabluemoon @yunho-leeknow @evesou707 @sakumoly @huuuuutao @kietsusae @kosairr @matchaaat @whydohumansss @sleezy-axeriix @urprettyfairy

435 notes · View notes

legendaryoikawa · 4 years

Text

haikyuu boys while making out

warnings: nsfw

note: female reader insert

tsukishima kei — his hands are quite large, not to mention his lithe fingers carefully grazing your lower lip, parting them slightly with his thumb and then will slowly devour you; leaving you breathless and whining for more. kei is the type to either tease you because you’re being a good girl for him or dominate you while letting out dirty talks and calling you names; it all depends on his mood. he’ll tower over you, his hands either busy roaming around your body or grasping both of your wrists above your head while looking at you with a smoldering gaze while thrusting his hips at you at a slow and sensual manner with a slow smirk painting his face. he’s not quite fond of leaving big and nasty marks that are visible but would rather place them on places that only you and him knows about; for example on your lower back; and he’s really proud and cocky about it.

kageyama tobio — tobio is quite hard when it comes to making out with you. with his strenous training consuming most of his time, he’ll end up missing you so fucking much that he would spend his limited time with you with the idea in his mind that he has to make you feel good even in a short period of time. it’s rushed. it’s not that you mind him being rough, it’s really hot to be honest. his kisses are quite messy, hot, open-mouthed that will send your mind in an endless swirl of nothingness; just him and his sinful mouth. he’s a setter and he handles the ball with care, so despite his lips being rough, he’ll caress and hold you gently like you’re a valuable piece of porcelain vase, gently cupping your jaw and raising your face up till your eyes are meeting his dark orbs. then after kissing you for like ages, he’ll look at your swollen lips and would slightly get flustered at your current state. his weakness is seeing you look like a hot mess and he couldn’t control himself and would end up ditching his practice at some point lol

oikawa tooru — oikawa is quite playful. “you like that? huh?” “you miss me that much huh?” he’s annoying sometimes but to be frank he couldn’t finish his day without kissing you or seeing you. he’s not that clingy but he just wanted to see his energy booster before getting his ass whipped by iwaizumi. anyways, make-outs are slow, sweet and young. he prefers to make out with you in their locker room. his hands roaming around your body endlessly, slowly cupping your breasts while his mouth is connected to yours. he doesn’t show much but your existence alone is enough to send him a boner and he would just dismiss it by teasing you like the brat he is.

akaashi keiji — he is collected and calm. usually wouldn’t go and push you into making out with him no matter how much he wanted it, if you’re not in the mood for it then he doesn’t. he just knows when to initiate it with just one look. making outs usually happens randomly and when it happens, it’s magical especially with akaashi by your side. it would just start when you are talking to a colleague and akaashi cannot stop looking at you; he’ll just stare at your beautiful lips; how sexy it does look, how tempting it is, the slow movement of it whenever you utter a syllable— and it just happens, he wants you. he wants to capture those lips. but he is collected, he’ll show his hunger ‘subtly’ by placing his hands over you back and dragging it down slowly until he settles on your ass, squeezing it. and you just know it. he’ll push your frame down a counter while slowly, kissing you deeply. his tongue grazing your lower lip. he moans onto your lips while he grinds shamelessly on you. he’ll pant hard while staring at you deeply, and whisper, “you’re so fucking beautiful” or “im so fucking happy that you’re mine” magical indeed.

kuroo tetsurou — the make outs doesn’t happen as much too since he’s busy with practice but when it does happen, it happens so fast, you are already left in your undies and his lips everywhere around you. for an instance, when he visited your place because he had a spare time to offer, he would go straight into your room and announce that both of you go ‘studying’ but after a minute or two, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself and started tackling you out of nowhere. it’s full of giggles and smirks. kuroo would entrap you with his big frame while starting to pepper you with small kisses then it’ll spiral down to a steamy makeout session that’ll leave you breathless and wanting for more. he’s also an avid fan of giving you dark love bites and will intentionally place them to places that are really visible to the public. he’ll go with, “that’s my baby right there” while caressing the marks he left onto the glimmering skin of your neck.

bokuto kotaro — he’s energetic as fuck and won’t stop kissing you till you raise your hand up to stop his sinful mouth. typically his kisses are too soft for you to handle. but when his dark mode is activated, every inch of your skin will be marked and bitten off and you’ll wake up with fresh, dark, marks around your breast like morning glories. he also loves to carry you around and settles on on something higher for him to have a full access to your body. his favorite will always be taking you by surprise when you’re in the kitchen preparing dinner but it’ll lead down to you being his dinner lol. makeouts with him will be so passionate and deep with his hands carresing every bit of your curvature, he’ll be muttering incoherent cusses while admiring your raw beauty that is only for him alone, there are moments where he’ll tell you to look at him while he bits down on the arch of your breast. heavy and ragged breaths. synchronous heartbeats, together yearning for each other’s touch.

iwaizumi hajime — he’s quite aloof but not with you. not fond of making out with you in public but rather in his room, where you are straddling his thick thighs with your lips connected to his. there will be a lot of sighs. not because he’s tired but he’s so ecstatic to see you and he can’t wait to devour you with all his might. might exert dominace as well, biting your lips down until he’ll hear you moan out his name loudly. all your cries for him alone. he’ll love and mutters how well your breasts fit perfectly on his large hands. he loves sliding his hands down your bare back while expertly flicking your bra straps. sometimes, he’ll run his fingertips onto your scalp, grazing down, then tugging it slightly while tilting your face up, for him to admire. he loves it when you leave marks onto him too especially on his chests. overall chill yet rough.

— this got too long, sorry jdhdhd. anyways i apologize for some grammar errors since i just typied this when i woke up a while ago! send in your request!! ily!

#haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #akaashi x reader #kageyama x reader #bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu oneshots

5K notes · View notes

kiribaku-queen · 3 years

Text

The Blood King and his Queen [1]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: Hello my loves! And welcome back to another, rather long, series! I had so many inspirations for this piece that I couldn’t wait to share with you all! Be warned, this might be a 20 part series, maybe more maybe less but we’ll see what happens! I hope you fall in love with this story as much as I do!

And shout out to this amazing artist for the art! I am literally BLOWN AWAY by this art! I can’t stop looking at it! It’s so amazingly well drawn. Just... yes, yes, yes! Please support this artist if you ever want art done! Pricey but just look at this art. So worth it! Check out the end of the chapter for the full image without text!

Also!!!! Check out my side blog if you’re curious about what fics I’m reading! You’ll find alot of j u i c y stuff and please support my friends by reading and commenting on their stories as well! Love <3

�� [next]

Nothing started your morning off better than the princess screaming her head off first thing in the morning. You, along with other servants, rushed to aid the princess in her time of distress. Although, it was never something to worry about with her. It was always something minor, like her hair was styled incorrectly or she didn’t like the color of clothes her servant picked out. Of course, this time, she was making a fuss that her perfume didn’t smell right.

“Your highness, I promise you, it’s the same one,” one of the servants who aided her in the morning pleaded for her life.

“No! You must have switched it out because it smells nothing like mine!” the princess screeched. The princess was so outraged that she started throwing everything and anything that was around her. Clothes, jewelry, candles, mirrors, anything she could get her hands on, she threw it. You and the other girls that just arrived could only watch in horror as her whole room becomes a mess with her belongings, some broken some completely shattered.

You wanted to say something. But you knew you couldn’t. If you stepped out of line or even talked back to any of the royals, you were surely to be punished severely later. Yet, you wanted to say something so bad. It was on the tip of your tongue. Because you knew the reason why it may smell different to the princess. To help your fellow friend in desperate need, you were going to say it. You pray to the gods that what you were about to say was right.

“Princess, if I may,” you started. The princess stopped what she was doing, midair, to give you the coldest stare you have ever received from her. You gulped. Well, too late to back out now. You bowed down your head respectfully while extending your hand to take the perfume. You don’t know why the princess decided to trust you at that moment, but she did. She nodded her head, allowing one of the servants to retrieve the bottle and place it in the palm of your hands.

“I believe it’s because your clothes already have a different perfume on it.” you explain. You pick up a different piece of clothing, one you knew was clean and free from previous scents, and spritzed the perfume onto it. “Here, does this smell like normal?” you offer the piece of clothing to the princess. For a moment, she stares at it, not believing your words. But she forcibly takes it anyway and smells it. The look of realization hit her harder than when she smashed her mirror against the floor. She spares you a second glance before handing off her perfume to someone and faces away.

“I would like to be left alone,” the princess states. After a synchronized bow from all her servants, you left the princess’s quarters and back to your own. When you were far enough, you let out a big sigh of relief. Man, that was scary. You probably shouldn’t be doing that again any time soon. Your friend hooked arms with you, the unexpected force made you loose your balance.

“Your intuition was spot on, once again,” she stated. You could only roll your eyes.

“I was just trying to help the situation,” you explained.

“Yeah, well if only the princess could use her brain once in a while, then she would have figured it out herself,” your friend puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.

“Well maybe her highness wasn’t feeling herself this morning,” you tried to defend her. But really, there was only so much you could defend her on.

“Oh, please, (y/n). You know that’s how she acts all the time. You act more like a princess than the princess herself,” your friend finally let the cat out of the bag. You quickly slapped her hand and checked your surroundings. Phew, no one of importance was in sight.

“Oh hush now. Don’t say things like that,” you scold her, giving her a stern look.

“What? You know all us girls think that. It doesn’t help that you look almost exactly like her. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were the princess instead.”

“Good gracious! Really? How could you say that so loud? What if someone overhears you? Then both you and me could get in trouble,” you warned. You knew your friend couldn’t care less. It was always gossip coming out of these girl’s mouths. That’s how news spreads fast around here. And you didn’t mind the gossip. Actually, you participated in the gossip too. There was a lot of downtime when you weren’t attending to the princess. So what do you do instead? Gossip. But you couldn’t have this type of gossip going around. This was dangerous.

The main girl who caused the princess to get upset, finally left the room. She was visibly traumatized by the whole event. Who wouldn’t be? Dealing with the princess is something else.

You noticed that the girl was bleeding from her finger. She must have gotten it when the princess was throwing glass around the room and it some pieces cut her.

“Come with me,” you gently grabbed her by the arm and led her to a room that was filled with different plants and bottles. The aroma immediately felt welcoming to anyone who stepped in. You went to a part of the room that you knew well and pulled out a bandage.

“This should do the trick,” you say as you finish wrapping her finger up.

“Thank you. How did you…”

“Oh, I learned a few things from the royal doctor. Sort of like an apprentice?” you explained. Being a servant isn’t the only task you knew how to do. On your spare time, you would come to the royal doctor and assist him whenever needed. In return for your volunteer, he taught you everything he knew about medicine. It was still a lot to process, but at least you knew how to do basic first aid.

“Are you even allowed to do that?” the girl asked. You thought for a minute. Was it? It wasn’t stopping you now.

“Well I guess it’s our little secret,” you put your finger to your mouth and gave a small wink.

After properly getting ready, you and the girls rushed to the princess’s side for it was your job to get her ready to be sent of and wedded. And she was not getting wedded off to just any prince. It was the rumored Blood Prince. Ah, yes. You heard much about this Blood Prince. He was the most vicious out of all the princes in the kingdom. Even more so than his eldest brothers. He was rumored to have sharp teeth and eyes that could kill with a single look. He was told to have scars marked all over his body from the battlefield. An ugly being, you imagined. Big, scary, intimidating, ruthless. God, you felt sorry for the princess for marrying such a man. You couldn’t imagine yourself marrying that type of person. Hearing stories about him made your blood run cold and chills down your spine.

You entered the princess’s room where a beautiful, white wedding dress, flowy, magnificent and perfect in all the right ways, was being fitted on the princess. You watched in awe because she looked absolutely fantastical in the dress. What a dream it would to be wear that dress only once in your life. At the same time her dress was being fitted, some servants were doing her hair and putting decorative pins and head pieces on. It was very chaotic in the room, with servants running everywhere, but it was all worth it for the princess to look this way.

You were preparing water for her hands and feet to soak while some of the girls that came with you were deciding which robe that best fits with her wardrobe.

“Your highness looks so lovely,” you commented, gently soaking her hands into warm bowls of water.

“Of course! I have to look my best for a special guest this afternoon,” the princess said in a cheery voice. You tilted your head slightly in confusion. You weren’t aware that the Blood Prince was coming to the palace. You thought the princess was being sent to him instead. You looked up and came into contact with a friend and she was speaking with her eyes.

She doesn’t know. She signaled to you. You frowned.

She doesn’t know?

She does not know.

Your mouth was left slightly ajar. The princess does not know that she is off to be engaged any moment now? This was a dilemma. She thinks a guest is coming. That’s why she’s dressed so much fancier than usual. But when she finds out that she is to be engaged, she’s going to wreck havoc in the palace. Now you really didn’t dare say anything now.

After finding out that very important piece of information, you could see that all the girls in the room knew, besides the princess. The tension in the room was growing increasingly more uncomfortable as time went on. But the princess was so air headed that she couldn’t read the room.

The princess was over the moon with happiness. And it was only because she could wear her fancy and expensive gowns that she can’t wear on the daily. She was skipping down the long corridors, humming a tune to only she knows as you and other servants follow behind her.

“Isn’t this dress beautiful? I feel like I’m in a wedding dress!” the princess exclaimed. You couldn’t help but raise a brow. Well, it’s because the princess is really in a wedding dress. But the princess did look beautiful beyond compare. She almost looked ethereal dancing in front of you like that. As the princess was dancing down the corridor, she passed by one of many large windows that gave a view of the front of the palace. A carriage was waiting to take her away to her fiancé, but she didn’t know that. Or did she?

She stopped in her tracks to take a better look at the carriage outside. A frown laid upon her lips and her eyebrows rightfully furrowed.

“Is that my carriage down there?” she questions. The ladies around you looked at each other, not knowing what to say. But even if they did know what to say, who was going to say it? One of your friends cleared their throat and bowed down to respond to the princess.

“It is, your highness,” she said.

“Whatever for?” a round of gulps could be heard from everyone there.

“For…your trip to your betrothed,” the girl’s voice shook from fear that the princess was going to blow up.

“My betrothed?” the princess repeated.

“Yes, your highness.”

“As in, to marry?”

“Yes, your highness.”

It was quiet. Nothing more came out of the princess’s mouth. And that scared all of you. This was not the normal reaction you were expecting. You expected her highness to rage, cry, scream, yell, destroy everything around her. But no. She was silent, like her tongue was ripped out of her throat.

In one quick movement, the princess turns around and dashes back to her bedroom. And who does she bring along? You! Before you could comprehend anything, the princess had taken you by the hand and now you were running down the corridor with the princess. The other ladies were running after you. When you turned back to look, you even saw a couple of guards running as well. But it was too late for them. The princess got to her room first, slammed the door closed, and barricaded the door with chairs to prevent anyone from coming inside.

“Your highness,” you call, out of breath from the sudden running. The princess didn’t answer you. She started taking off her dress, sending you into complete shock.

“Your highness! What are you doing?” you panicked. She only glared at you while not stopping what she was doing.

“Enough talking. Just take off your clothes,” she ordered you. You bit your lip. You had no idea what was going on but if she demanded it, then you had no choice but to obey. So, you stripped yourself of your filthy clothes and laid them on the floor. While you stood in front of the princess naked, she was getting the remaining of her clothes off. Then, she passed you her dress.

“Quick, put it on,” she said. You hesitated at first. You? Wear something only a princess could wear? But you couldn’t stall any longer. As quickly as you could, you put on the flowy wedding dress while the princess put on your peasant clothes. Banging was coming from the other side of the door, which only made both of you panic even more. If they came in while all this was happening, you would get into so much trouble. As soon as you both got situated in your new outfits, the princess gripped your shoulders so that you were looking her right in the eyes.

“Listen to me closely. You are going to take my place. I’ll be you and you’ll be me until you come back,” she shouted at you in a whisper.

“Your highness?” you began but she shut you up because she wasn’t finished.

“Your mission is to make this prince hate you so much that he calls off this marriage. Then you’ll return and everything will go back to normal,” she continued. It looked like she wanted to say more, but your time together was cut short. The guards had already pushed their way through the door and charging their way towards you. The princess, who was now dressed as you, quickly covered your face with the veil. The veil was thick enough that no one could see your eyes or face.

“Take the princess,” one of the guards ordered. The real princess bowed her head down, faking it until the end. The guards went straight up to you, grabbing you by both of your arms and forcibly escorted you out to the carriage.

And so there you were, on your way to some unknown kingdom, about to marry some man you didn’t even know. All because the princess ordered you to. No matter how much you hated the idea, you couldn’t even voice your opinions to her. You were in no position to do so. Before you left the palace grounds, you looked back, hoping that this was all some sort of sick joke. But the princess was looking down at you from the window, giving you a nod of trust. She trusted you. You had to fulfil her request.

This is how you found yourself in the presence of the most vicious Blood Prince, Bakugou Katsuki.

A/N: Let me know if you want to be put on a tag list! And leave your thoughts below about the first chapter! What did you think so far? How do you think the story is going to go? What did you think about the art? Speaking of art, here is the full image unedited! Are you in love with it just as much as I am?

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bnha bakugou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou imagine #bnha imagine #bnha art #bakugou angst

433 notes · View notes