#they could be in entirely different realms and manage to spice things up for the other in the worst possible way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

i've been keeping a list of possible prompts for you and there's one i have no memory of adding that just says "courtesan nmj????" so i guess that's the prompt you're getting lmao

What Does the Fox Say - ao3

“Second Madame Nie!” a disciple shouted, rushing into her little garden. She didn’t recognize him, but he was solidly built and well-muscled like most of the others – truly, the Unclean Realm was a rapturous feast for one with eyes to see it. Yum, yum. “Second Madame Nie, I have bad news!”

Boo. She hated bad news: bad news meant she’d have to do something, usually, and right now she was seated very comfortably in a pleasant piece of sun in the garden path that’d been made up just for her and to her preferences, with her feet up on a chair and a full plate of fruit from the kitchen on the table in front of her just begging to be devoured, morsel by delicious morsel.

Her schedule was packed!

“I regret to tell you, but your husband has been killed!”

“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly. “Has he? How obnoxious of him.”

How unreliable. Men.

She sighed.

“Second Madame – Second Madame – you don’t understand!” The disciple was all red-eyed and weepy, which was a look she liked, especially in big, stout men like this. The salt added a bit of spice to the whole thing. “You must flee at once! He was killed by Sect Leader Wen in an act of outright aggression – Sect Leader Wen has declared war – the Wen sect is invading!”

She nodded and picked up another lychee to start peeling it. She’d get around to fleeing in her own time. As long as this Wen sect or whatnot was being led by a man, she wasn’t terribly concerned.

“They intend to wipe out the inheritance of Qinghe Nie! They will rip out the child in your belly!”

She hummed noncommittally. Really, how attached was she to having a child of her own? Really?

“They will slaughter civilians – execute Nie-gongzi –”

Her hands stilled.

“What,” she said, and the disciple took a step back automatically, proving that he, at least, had something more of a survival instinct than her late husband did. “Hurt my little meat bun? My darling rice roll? My savory zongzi?”

She stood up, diminutive height and over-large belly and frilly clothing doing absolutely nothing to diminish the vaguely menacing aura that darkened the sky around her. She bared her teeth.

“Who does this upstart Wen dog think he is?!”

The disciple blinked owlishly, but nodded, seeming relieved that she’d finally accepted his concern, though she could see on his face that he was thinking that her reasoning was – characteristically – a little strange. But then again, and she could see this thought process on his far too honest face, it was well known that the second Madame Nie been quite strange ever since Sect Leader Nie had found her in some lonesome place with no family or background and brought her back to be his new wife nevertheless.

Such a charming man. Pity about his loss, really.

“You have to flee at once, we can’t possibly fight so many people,” the disciple said once more, and this time she nodded in agreement. “We can escort you to a hidden exit –”

“No!” a little voice called. “We can’t go.”

She turned to look, and there was the little pork-and-shrimp dumpling himself, chubby-cheeked and earnest-eyed, looking as delicious as always.

“What do you mean, fish cake?” she asked. “Of course we have to go. Didn’t you hear what this strapping young man said? This Wen person wants to kill you!”

“If Father is dead, then I’m the sect leader,” her stepson said. He was serious and solemn in a way that made her want to pinch his cheeks and bury her face into his belly to blow raspberries, and also possibly to eat him right up, flesh and marrow and gristle and all. “That means it’s my responsibility to preserve the Nie sect.”

“Nie-gongzi, no!” the disciple cried, throwing himself to his knees in a dramatic display of loyalty. “You would only die – far better for you to run, and live!”

“Then isn’t the same true for everyone else?” the tasty little dish asked, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Possibly he was trying to put on a fierce expression, maybe, she couldn’t quite tell sometimes. He was so cute. “Why should I live, and them not? I refuse to buy my life with their deaths!”

“But – Nie-gongzi –”

Her charming little honey cake shook his head and held up a hand to stop the disciple, turning to look at her instead.

“Second Mother,” he said, and he had that wholesome trusting expression again that was such a perfect little one-shot-kill to the heart, ugh. “You always said you’re the best at hiding. The best in the world, no one better among all the gods or demons!”

She was, too. She couldn’t help but preen a little, proud.

“– can’t you do something?”

“Oh, darling cabbage bun,” she said, not without fondness. “I can hide myself from even the net of Heaven itself if I so choose, from gods and demons alike, and I can most certainly hide a small group from any mortal eyes that dare to look, if you don’t mind being a little tiny bit dishonorable about the business. But an entire sect? That’s a bit much, even for someone as talented and skilled as me.”

Her stepson looked up at her, all straight-steel sincerity and upright righteousness wrapped into a perfectly edible little snack-sized package. “If we split them up, the sect could be small groups,” he said eagerly. “Couldn’t you do something then?”

He was so cute, and he trusted her. He trusted her, believed in her, felt that she could perform miracles with a wave of her sleeve if only she so wished.

It was awful.

She couldn’t bear it.

“Oh all right, you nummy little slice of roast pork belly,” she said, yielding. “But I’m telling you now, it won’t be the least bit honorable! There’s only so many excuses you can come up with for having a lot of strong men with wide shoulders and women with thick thighs hanging around, and not a single one of them has the slightest bit to do with what you people consider to be appropriate.”

“That’s all right. Preserving human life comes first, always.”

The disciple looked between them, clearly completely confused. Clearly all his effort had been spent on developing the muscles in his arms (quite nice) rather than his brain (quite slow).

“What?” he said. “What’s happening?”

“We’re saving the sect,” Nie Mingjue announced happily, clapping his hands together. Too precious, too precious entirely; she’d have to make sure no one else even thought about going near her darling little snackling. “Tell everyone to prepare to evacuate.”

“That will take too long,” she said, and smiled, with teeth. “Let me call some friends to help.”

When the Wen sect arrived at the Unclean Realm, they found the gate open.

That was unexpected enough, but when they entered, they found that the entire place had emptied out – not just of people, but of everything else, too. There wasn’t a single intact chair or table in the entire place, not a scrap of cloth nor a bit of food, like it’d been swept clean by locusts or wild monkeys come to pilfer whatever they could.

Even the paving stones where arrays had been laid out by the Nie sect’s ancestors had been pried up and carted away.

Sect Leader Wen ordered a search, but there wasn’t any trace of it – of the people, of the stuff, anything.

No one ever found out what happened.

Jin Guangyao despised social events, he’d found.

It was one thing when it was something he’d planned himself, where the work was interesting enough to distract him, but when he was an honored guest for someone else…miserable. Utterly miserable.

The only thing more miserable was when the host was his erstwhile father, from whom he’d forcefully extracted recognition. With Wen Ruohan as his backer, indulging his favorite torturer as if a beloved pet, there wasn’t much Jin Guangshan could do to refuse, and neither could he force Jin Guangyao to do anything on his behalf, either. And so Jin Guangyao, sitting as always by Wen Ruohan’s side, right beneath his sons, was now an honored guest at his father’s house, getting offered his pick of prostitutes as if the man had no notion of the irony.

Maybe he didn’t. Jin Guangyao couldn’t quite tell if his father had just forgotten his origins, thinking his bastard son too unimportant to remember the details of, or whether it was meant as a deliberate insult – who could tell?

“Oh, right,” the simpering idiot in front of him, a nephew or cousin of some sort to the sect leader, said. “Our dear Jin Guangyao is known not to like the gentle flower queens, even when they come from the finest houses in Lanling. Isn’t that right, cousin?”

Jin Guangyao’s fists clenched. A deliberate insult, then.

Despite that, his face remained neutral. Instead, he chuckled and said, “The appeal is limited. After all, I have seen the best of them.”

Beside him, Wen Ruohan nodded and smirked. He appreciated Jin Guangyao’s devotion to his mother, though Jin Guangyao suspected it was because he thought it funny that Jin Guangyao would bother to honor such a lowly woman – but what he thought didn’t matter, not really. All that mattered was that he let Jin Guangyao pay his respects to her to his heart’s content.

“Well, you’re in luck!” the idiot Jin Zixun said, looking absurdly smug. “We have something of a different flavor than the usual tonight – we’ve invited entertainment from the local branch of Splendid Spring.”

Jin Guangyao barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes.

The Splendid Spring Palace was a series of brothels that had popped up fully formed just about everywhere some years back, with madams and girls and musicians and bodyguards of all sorts. It was so patently a political move that Jin Guangyao had barely bothered to pay attention to it once he’d become actually powerful, and Wen Ruohan hadn’t paid attention to it at all. After all, in the unlikely event that the business really was backed by a cultivation sect that didn’t care about its face any longer, anyone who needed to use such a façade to gather power was clearly beneath notice.

Jin Guangyao had paid only very little attention, but to different and unusual aspects of the place: by all accounts, they were surprisingly decent employers as far as places like that went. They didn’t steal girls or accept unwilling goods – they had some connection with the merchant caravans, or at least one of the companies that helped coordinate routes and provide protection to such things, and they were as meticulous about checking things over as they were about seeking refunds if they were dissatisfied – and they did accept married girls fleeing unhappy marriages, which not everyone did. They did buy up all the girls in the local markets wherever they were, but they swept them away and brought them back transformed, even the ones that wouldn’t sell because they were too ugly; Jin Guangyao assumed that meant they had people who were talented in make-up and clothing, since the usual rumors of the girls being blessed with a yao’s enchantment were obviously ridiculous and nothing more than the usual marketing gimmicks that brothels since time immemorial had tried.

Even once they had the girls in hand, the places were pretty decent: they had physicians on staff to help with the usual side effects of the business, made sure their girls were clean and healthy, and were said to even limit the number of customers a girl would be obliged to take on in a given evening…honestly, knowing as he did the brothel business, Jin Guangyao sometimes wondered how they’d managed to bespell enough people to even make money in the early days. At any rate, whatever they’d done, it’d worked, because by now they had a solid enough reputation to trade on.

In short: a decent enough place, far better than the usual run of the mill. Once he’d had the ability to do so, he’d even pulled a few strings and arranged for the better of his mother’s old compatriots to end up there, since he couldn’t convince them to leave their old professions behind entirely.

Anyway, if they also seemed to have a sideline in information brokering and assassinations, well, let them. In the cultivation world, where the only thing that mattered was strength, real strength.

A little thing like that wouldn’t make any real difference.

Or so Jin Guangyao had thought.

He found himself re-thinking that, though, when the entertainment in question came out. There were the usual set of attractive (albeit in a wider variety of shapes and sizes than usually seen) dancers, dressed up in silks that seemed actually high quality, and plenty of strapping young men carrying sabers – dancers as well, once assumed, to provide some spice to the entertainment, and implicitly on the offer for men who cut their sleeves or women with more flexibility, like widows or ones with especially permissive husbands. Wen Ruohan’s wives were in that latter category, and they were already whispering to each other excitedly, looking at them.

They’d even brought in the local madame, who was…

Well, she was actually breathtaking, even by Jin Guangyao’s extremely jaded standards. She had hair that fell almost all the way to her ankles, shimmering in the light, and dark eyes shining with liveliness, a smooth and ageless face that simultaneously suggested youth and health but also winked at knowable experience, the features characteristic of what his mother’s employers had called the ‘fox-face’. As if to emphasize that, the lady was wrapped in fox-fur and draped in embroidered brocade, with little stylized foxes running up and down the hems of her clothing and along the gazy silk draped on her shoulders.

It ought to have looked absurd, looked gaudy and overwrought and overdone, but it didn’t.

She was a thousand dreams of wealth and beauty and power and sex appeal all wrapped up in one, and even Jin Guangyao – who was in his personal preferences quite firmly a cutsleeve – couldn’t help but intrigued by her, wondering what it might be like to touch the hem of such a glorious creature.

And next to her…

The lady was accompanied by two men that seemed completely different from each other. One was a slender and winsome young man, fluttering his eyelashes from behind a fan with a charming smile, emanating the appeal of softness and weakness, ready to be indulged. While the other…

Jin Guangyao swallowed.

He was the exact opposite of the first man. Clearly strong, muscular and powerful, and tall to the point of towering, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, a chest that you could lean your head against and an ass that begged to have someone’s hands on it – and there were his hands, big and broad, perfect for holding someone down or up if they so wished and of a size that was very promising as to what was only hinted at under his clothes. His face was hidden behind a veil as if he were a woman, marking him, like his comrade, as one of the available courtesans of the Splendid Spring, but his body was visible under clothing clearly cut to put it to the best advantage.

And oh, what advantages it had…!

“It seems we found something to the tastes of dear cousin Guangyao after all,” the idiot said mockingly, sniggering and snorting like the pig he was, and for once Jin Guangyao didn’t even care.

“Who’s the woman in front?” Wen Ruohan asked, ignoring their interplay. He seemed utterly fascinated, almost spellbound, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him one bit. If this woman had been at the same brothel as his mother, there wouldn’t have even been room for jealousy or shame; his mother would have gone straight up to her to ask for some tips. “She seems…familiar, somehow.”

“That’s the madame of the Splendid Spring,” Jin Zixun said proudly, as if he’d done anything at all in relation to this – nonsense, of course. Everyone know which brothels were backed by the Jin sect, and Splendid Spring wasn’t one of them. He was acting as if he deserve a pat on the back just for the introduction! “That means she’s not for sale.”

His smile faded a little, twisting in a small bit of bitterness. “Or so she told my uncle, anyway…although I’m sure if it were Sect Leader Wen asking, the answer would undoubtedly be different.”

Probably because Jin Guangshan couldn’t slaughter prostitutes with impunity if they said no to him, whereas no one could stop Wen Ruohan from doing any damn thing he pleased.

Wen Ruohan grunted, pleased by the answer – he was a possessive man, in the rare events that he did exert himself in the realm of women, and there had been more than one instance where he’d stolen away some girl his sons had been eyeing first just for the joy of having had her first – and raised a hand, catching the lady’s eye and gesturing for her to come over, which she did.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She laughed. “You can call me Hu Jiuwei. With the ‘Hu’ being the character for fox.”

Jin Guangyao tried not to choke. There were false names and then there were false names – the lady’s theme was already clearly related to foxes, given her fox-face and fox-fur lining and the foxes embroidered onto her robes. Was the over-the-top name really necessary?

“It’s a fake name,” she added, unnecessarily.

“I see,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding a little choked himself. Possibly it was the woman calling herself ‘Foxy Ninetails’ and then kindly reassuring them all that the name was false as if she thought them too dumb to figure it out that was tripping him up a little. Jin Guangyao couldn’t tell if she was doing it deliberately in order to make her frankly inhuman beauty a little less frightening, or maybe she was blessed with so much beauty that she hadn’t bothered to cultivate her brain at all. “Are you our entertainment for the evening?”

She smiled, and any complaints Jin Guangyao (or indeed Wen Ruohan) might have had about her intelligence faded away at once.

It was that type of smile.

You could wreck nations with that type of smile. Jin Guangyao couldn’t help but wonder: how had a woman this extraordinary ended up in a brothel, of all places? How had no one snatched her up to keep her all for himself before now?

“My sons and I –” she gestured at the two behind her, “– would be more than happy to provide you with all the entertainment you could possibly want.”

Her smile widened.

“We’ve been hoping for an opportunity like this for a long time.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #second madame nie #jin guangyao #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #what does the fox say

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immacaria · 3 years

Text

Crocodile

Hello there! So this is day 4 of Beetober 2021: Crocodile from @bloody-bee-tea and, sincerely, I just wanted a good laugh because these last days have been tiring and exhaustive and I will die in the hill that says that Nie Mingjue is good with kids and the Yunmeng people are crazy. Anyways, this day’s word count is 2890 words. That being said, I hope that you enjoy the fic and are safe and sound!

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When Nie Mingjue started visiting Yunmeng, he tried to get used to the differences between them as quickly as possible so as to not offend the new Sect Leader or, worse, make a fool of himself. The food and spices were easy to get accustomed to, though he was sure that the spice was being held back immensely because of him, and he even began appreciating some of the special dishes that the Jiang disciples brought him to taste. But there were some traditions that still managed to surprise him after this whole time.

Though he started visiting Yunmeng to help Jiang Wanyin with the rebuilding of the clan, the thing that he liked the most to observe were the people from Yunmeng, the common people and the younger disciples, and their habits. For example, when he walked around Lotus Pier with the first Jiang disciple showing him around and taking him to where his leader was, there were always people in the roofs and piers singing and laughing loudly at each other’s singing tones and he always found himself stuck in place to hear it. The first time it happened, Wanyin had taken offense to it and said that was the way they did things around there, that at least that his people could do that despite everything.

He had to explain that he had not meant to cause offense by stopping to hear and had only stopped because it was different from how his people worked. Constructions on the Unclean Realm were usually quieter and more sober, even if they did joked between them, but nothing like the loudness that he was seeing in Lotus Pier and he was simply amused by it. After that, he always stopped for at least some minutes to listen to the people singing and chatting everytime he was visiting.

Another thing that he too liked to observe was the way that, despite everyone in the cultivation world being so much afraid of Jiang Wanyin, they didn’t seem afraid of being ahead and poke him only to get reactions out of him. More than once, Nie Mingjue had witnessed one of the elders making jokes at him and only laughing when he snapped at him or one of the disciples playing a prank on him and he only rolled his eyes and told the poor kid to run around the fields until he told them to stop. They even started to joke with Nie Mingjue himself when they noticed that his visits were going to be regular and had no hidden intentions behind them.

It was funny to see the way that they acted so differently from his own people who, though they joked and fooled around too, were more serious in certain aspects than them, who expressed their feelings and opinions more openly. Even Jiang Wanyin himself, who was so feared and quiet, expressed himself immensely easier when he was near his people. The Yunmeng people were wild, loud and lived up to their clan motto in every single hour of the day.

But Nie Mingjue knew better than to think that they were fools like some people in the Jin clan thought they were. These people had suffered worst things that most of them all, had they entire culture and lifes stolen from them by arrogants fool, were killed and chased and, yet, they still fought in the war as much as the others, if not more, and rebuild their houses and redid their culture completely alone. Because, even if he offered help, they were as proud and tough-headed as their leader and didn't accept help easily.

Another thing he knew better than to trust them was in relation to pranks. He did not trust them with pranks. Not because they would take it too far and actually hurt people, but because he wasn't used to their pranks and more times than not he fell victim to them even if he didn't want to. Just like that time where they said he had to bow three times before passing under any door because the days were shorter than the nights that season and the spirits were restless and since he was an outsider they were going to think that he was a threat and go even more restless and end up attacking everyone in the sect. So he needed to bow three times before going by any door.

"Just like a wedding?" Nie Mingjue had asked because though he was pretty sure that they were pranking him, he didn't want to be disrespectful and risk getting haunted by some crazy ghosts. Or hurting anyone on Lotus Pier.

"Yes, just like a wedding. To show respect and protect yourself." One of Jiang Wanyin's Spiders, Zhou Min, said and, beside her, her twin sister nodded eagerly.

"Are you sure?" He said slowly. He wasn't superstitious, per se, but one can't never be too cautious with spirits.

"Yes, absolutely. Three bows, Nie-zongzhu." The twin sisters said and he decided to do it, even if later he discovered that it was all a prank. Better safe than sorry, after all.

So through the day, he kept bowing in front every door he passed under and tried to do it as quickly as possible so that no one would notice. Was it tiring? Yes. Was it humiliating? Yes, but he understood about restless spirits and what they could do when irritated and he was not risking it to happen to Yunmeng Jiang. Sometimes, from the corner of his eyes, he saw some disciple giggling behind their sleeves and he huffed every time before going on, and others, he would see the elders smiling in open plan, but looking at him strangely. It was only at the end of the day, when Jiang Wanyin and he were watching the disciples train from inside one building and they stepped out to dismiss them that he learned that that was a prank.

“Why the hell are you doing that?” Jiang Wanyin said, turning around to glare at him and crossing his arms. At some point of his visits, they stopped caring for the unnecessary formalities and niceties they had to endure with the other Sect Leaders and were slowly building a friendship between them. “What the hell is wrong with you?” His tone was harsh and for others it may sound like an accusation, but by now Mingjue knew better and knew that the younger Sect Leader was simply confused.

“The Zhou twins said that the spirits were restless since the nights were longer than the days now and since I’m an outsider, they could see me as a potential threat if I didn’t bow three times to show respect at every door I went through.” He sighed, running a hand over his face as the disciples near them started to laugh loudly. In front of him, Wanyin was looking at him with incredulous eyes before turning to where the twin Spiders were practically rolling down the ground with their laughter. They had pranked him. Again.

“Are you marrying the spirits, by any chance then?” He said, frowning at him.

“What? No! The twins said it had to be three times.” He pointed at them and saw him fighting to not lift the corner of his mouth.

"Unbelievable. The twins are well-known pranksters, Mingjue, you should know that." He rolled his eyes, turning away as his smile finally broke out and the sun had nothing to do with the way that the whole place seemed to illuminate suddenly. "Bow three times. Fucking unbelievable." By then, Wanyin was openly laughing and so were his disciples, but Nie Mingjue couldn't even say he was mad at being pranked again. Not when it managed to make Wanyin laugh so loudly as he was.

So, no, he did not trust the Jiang disciples when it came to pranks because even if he knew it was a prank, he knew that they knew that he would walk right in one with his arms wide open if it meant that Wanyin would laugh like that again and again and again. But didn't mind when he fell in one, that much either. There were so many pranks already that he always knew when one was about to happen.

Just like this time around. He was visiting Lotus Pier again when Wang Yin, the second disciple, ran to him with a wide and toothy smile on his face and greeted him way too happily. As the boy guided him to the lakes where Wanyin was helping build some a pier, he was told about how they were almost finishing the construction and that this pier was the last big project before they gave the final touches and the whole time Nie Mingjue was looking around and trying to see what was going to be the prank.

But all the thoughts about the prank were forgotten when they arrived at the pier and he saw Wanyin crunched down near the water and helping other people. He looked up and smiled, asking him how the hell he pretended to help if he was all dressed up like that and told him to get going. So that was what he did. He got rid of his outer robes and boots and put Baxia to the side before jumping next to Wanyin and immediately having a heavy wood log thrown in his hands.

He can’t say that they worked quickly, but he can say that there were enough laughs and jokes to make it look like it was quick. Wanyin explained to him that after they ended - “And take a bath.” He added after looking down at his wet and muddy robes. - there was going to have a party and if he wanted he could come too. Ignoring the expectants looks from the other workers and some menacing ones, Mingjue nodded and said that it was a pleasure.

“So, this was the last big project?” He asked, stepping away to see the pier better. Beside him, Jiang Wanyin smiled and nodded, throwing some tools up to one of his disciples.

“Yeah, after this there’s only some details to be added and then everything is ready again.” He shrugged, taking smaller steps away and looking around. “Mingjue, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, what is it?” He stopped in his backwards walking and put his head to the side when a wicked smile appeared in the other’s mouth.

“Turn around.” Slowly, he turned around with his eyebrows furrowed and looked around before carefully looking down when a low growling reached his ears. Near his legs and growling with all it’s might, there was a crocodile glaring up at him and opening his mouth at him. “Oh, shit!” He screamed, jumping away from him in haste. His back hit one of the pier’s pillars and everyone around him started howling in laughter as the crocodile growled again, closing its mouth and swimming to where Wanyin was giggling. “What the hell?” He whispered as the reptil circled Wanyin’s thighs and bumped his head against one of them, still making that horrible sound. It was only then that he noticed that the damned crocodile was laughing at him.

“I’m so sorry, Sect Leader Nie.” Wang Yin said between laughs. “But we had to. It was just too good to pass.”

“How come that you have never seen Baieyu around the lakes, Nie-zongzhu?” One of the workers, Hu Yitian, if he remembered right, said, holding another worker who was laughing too hard up.

“Believe it or not, Nie-zongzhu avoids looking at our lakes and ponds as much as he can.” Jiang Wanyin said, patting Baieyu’s head and smirking at him and putting his head to the side while Nie Mingjue narrowed his eyes at him before following the crocodile’s movements as it swimmed away.

“Why?” One of the youngest disciples that were helping them asked, putting his head between the railings of the handrail.

“That’s an answer that stays between me and your sect leader, kid.” Nie Mingjue swinged her nose gently and smiled at her giggles. “Move, move. I want to get out.”

“Afraid, Mingjue?” Wanyin asked, getting out of the water too and still smiling widely.

“Terrified. What if that Baieyu of yours decides that I’m a treat just like your spirits did last season? Thank you, but no, I prefer not to risk any of my limbs.” He shook his head, pretending to not hear the disciples’ laughs.

“You are ridiculous.” He rolled his eyes, walking past him and he could only shrug as he followed him. “Baieyu only bites who I tell him to.”

“I know that now, but I’m still not risking it.” They walked for some time until they were away from most of the disciples and non-cultivators.

“Why do you do that?” Jiang Wanyin asked suddenly, turning around and putting a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Do what?” Nie Mingjue asked back because he genuinely didn’t know. “Help you rebuild Lotus Pier? I thought we alre-...”

“No, no that! The pranks! Why do you always let the juniors prank you? Why do you always let me prank you? Surely, by now you can know when they are about to prank you!” He interrupted him, shaking his head and looking down. “Why do you always make a fool out of yourself?”

“Because I like it. It’s good.” He shrugged again, lifting his hands to rub them against Wanyin’s arms.

“But people always laugh at you in the end. How are you not ashamed by that or even bothered? Don’t you think He took a deep breath and Nie Mingjue only shrugged again.

“Because it makes people laugh and a good laugh it’s always good no matter what caused it. And because it makes you laugh too and I would do practically anything to make you laugh.” At that, Wanyin looked up at him with raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

"What?" He whispered and fisted Nie Minjue's robes with more force than necessary. "What does this mean?"

"It means that I like seeing you laughing, It means that I like being the reason why you are laughing." He cupped his face, caressing his cheek and smiling. He was sure that he was looking like a fool. Maybe a fool in love, but a fool still. "It means that I like you." Slowly, giving time for Wanyin to back off, he closed the distance between them and kissed his lips with only a barely there touch.

"Fuck!" Jiang Wanyin whispered heatedly before looking up to him and pulling him down to a more heated and heavier kiss. His hands fell down from his face to his waist and he pulled him against him, feeling his neck getting hugged. "Holy fuck!" He said, making Mingjue chuckle loudly. "I see what you mean about liking to make me laugh. It's a good sensation."

"It is, it is." He nodded, thumbing the side of his waist and watching as his cheeks got adorable red. "You're adorable."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. C'mon, we need a bath." He waved him off before grabbing his hand and pulling him along. "Then we can kiss again and go to the dinner the elders are giving.”

“Alright!” He smiled, kissing his cheek quickly and laughing when Wanyin turned to him with narrowed eyes and cheeks aflame.

Later after the bath and the dinner, both of them would lay down on Jiang Cheng’s - because now he got to call him by his given name, even if he highly doubted he would stop calling him Wanyin. The name was simply too beautiful to not be called - bed and talk. They would talk about everything and nothing and see what they should expect from them and Nie Mingjue would say that he was planning on starting a courtship if Jiang Cheng wanted. Later, Jiang Cheng would laugh at him and say that yes, he wanted the courtship but only if Baieyu got to participate in the ceremony and, then, laugh some more at Nie Mingjue’s sour face.

♡

“It means that I like you.” Nie-zongzhu said and Zhou Min’s breath caught up on her throat as he leaned down to kiss their leader.

“Holy shit.” She whispered as her sister, Zhou Nuo, giggled beside her. “Finally.”

“Nie-gongzi is going to be so mad that he lost the bet to Wang-shixiong, of all people.” She giggled again and Wang Yin had to swallow down a cackle as Zhou Min shivered again.

“Oh, I’m going to win so much money on Nie-gongzi.” He cackled maddily and beside them all Zhao Shuhan, the first disciple, sighed heavily.

“I really think we shouldn’t be spying on our Sect Leader snogging with Nie-zongzhu.” Zhao Shuhan said, putting his hand on his face and sighing even more. “Especially if they are snogging.”

“Oh, mood-killer.” Zhou Min rolled her eyes and turned to him. “They took so long to get together. Let us enjoy this a little.” Zhao Shuhan took a deep breath before looking over at her to see them hugging and sighed again.

“Ok, just five more minutes.” He shook his head and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes.

Oh, Nie-gongzi was going to be so pissed that he lost the bet.

40 notes · View notes

saltpepperbeard · 3 years

Text

Ravenous ~An Everlark One-Shot~

A/N: Well hello hello again lol! A bit weird, huh? I don’t know why exactly I had a sudden surge of motivation, but quite honestly, I’m not mad at it. While the shot I wrote a few days back was a more original idea of sorts, this one was an “anonymous” suggestion. A rather EYEBROW RAISING SUGGESTION™ if you know what I’m saying ha! But for whatever reason, dialogue and ideas started flowing, and here we are! Just couldn’t help but explore Katniss desiring to Spice Things Up a bit. With that being said shjdkhskdls-

Disclaimer: This fic contains NC-17 related material, but y’all been knew. Y’ALL KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GETTING INTO LMAO.

And without further adoooooo...

Ravenous

It’s happening again. Our bedroom seems to rival that of the setting sun, the two dancing and paralleling. Just as the clouds and sky melt into orange, I too, find myself at its mercy. Just as the sun plunges beneath the horizon, so too, do our pelvises atop each other’s. Just as it sets fire to the grasses and trees as it plummets from sight, so too, do our roaming mouths and hands against each other’s bodies.

And just as the sunset is habitual, expected, so is the explosion within. It’s like clockwork. It’s like the mighty star’s journey across the sky. A soft, inviting, and consistent brightness is maintained throughout the day, before utterly exploding into color and passion as ebony surges forth.

The newness and its subsequent excitement must be why it’s so incredibly enticing, so normal in our schedule. To think, I used to be one with the dawn. The coldness, the solitude, and the call for survival...all were my essence. Now though, do I dance and take pleasure in the dusk, flooding with fiery color before all runs dark.

Not that I’m complaining in the slightest. No, I’m a medley of breathy giggles, mewled moans, and messy kisses. The usual, the expected, and the blissful.

So a subsequent shift in the cycle, in the ecstatic repetition, does indeed throw me when it presents.

Losing myself in Peeta each and every night allows my hunger to break free, spilling forth after being locked up for so long. It gnaws, it feasts, and it satisfies, before settling back to a hush, properly quenched. His initial touches, caresses, and kisses do marvels at igniting the starting flames. His following motions and salacious actions work wonders at surging the fire to a roar. And then his sweetness dampens the blaze into finality, into exhausted ashes.

But tonight...Tonight, it’s different. It feels...wrongfully intense.

I am not hungry- I am ravenous. It roars within me as if it’s never been satiated at all. It howls, screams, gnashing for a deeper satisfaction. The area between my legs aches almost painfully so, and the heat surging through my core snarls that it won’t be bested so easily.

Such a sensation almost feels instinctual, animalistic even. And with that notion crossing my mind, an odd picture presents itself within my subconscious. A symbolic representation? Or is it a solution, a suggestion that the deeper confines of my hankering body has pulled up? Either way, it’s bizarre, and subsequently earns a deep blush to my cheeks.

The image of a stag mounting a doe.

It’s something I’ve seen on rare occasion while hunting, a deeply intimate and almost sacred moment birthed from nature’s way. But translating such an intrusive image into our bedroom, into the current situation, and connecting the dots between the symbolism and the craving...

...Oh.

Oh.

My cheeks flush impossibly more so.

What an oddity. Peeta more than satisfies me. He gives me something no one else could possibly come close to offering. He takes me to realms unthinkable, and charts depths once-unexplored. And yet, does my body yearn.

What a foreign desire. I never could have pictured myself in such a position- or...intensely aching for one, rather. With carnal intimacy being so new to me, to the both of us, I never expected my body to erect anything of the sort. But I suppose, the deeper and deeper we traverse in one another, the more and more we’ll unlock. I guess there are still things to be discovered about each other, and complex layers of intimacy waiting to be unlocked...

“...Katniss?”

As if my cheeks couldn’t grow any more fiery.

I must have been quite disconnected, lost in thought and libidinous imagination. My grey eyes rapidly blink to break from the haze, but the desire still careens within. Venturing out from the fog reveals Peeta once more though, his beautiful, bare, handsome form hovering atop me. He too, is flushed, small beads of sweat glistening atop his scarred skin to compliment the fiery sheen within his darkened eyes.

But where there would be normally be a crooked smile, or an agape expression of pleasure, there instead exists confusion, concern.

When our eyes finally meet with clarity, he reaches to softly cup my cheek.

“Hey...” he murmurs, his voice still husky, breathy, “You alright?”

I cannot help but swallow hard. How the hell am I supposed to vocalize such a thing? Is it too taboo to ask for? The idea of...Peeta...taking me from behind?

I’m a mess, shutting my eyes and turning my face into his hand, as if to hide myself away.

“Hey...” His voice sounds more concerned, and a bit warmer. Some of the huskiness has disappeared too. And subsequently, a spark of desperation alights within me; perhaps because the hunger screeches at me to maintain heat.

“Sweetheart-”

Softening sentiments are cut off by a carnal kiss, my body piloting me to fight the dip. I lace my hands around the back of his head and pull his stunned form closer, breathily moaning through the connection. When I feel his lips begin to part though, when I practically taste the confused question forming on his tongue...

I know I have no choice. I know it’s now or never. And if I could stare the hunger dead on, if I could address its call and dive into vulnerabilities with Peeta before...

Surely I can do this too. Hopefully.

“Peeta?” I quickly interject.

I expect him to remain close, but just as ferocious desire pilots me, so too does compassionate concern steer him. He leans as far back as he can with my hands laced through his hair, staring with those inquisitive, stunning blues.

“...Katniss?”

“I...I...”

Just as the first time we delighted in one another, my throat threatens to lock up from anxiety, from fear of the unknown. Just as before, I find it horribly difficult to vocalize my wants. But in knowing that soft and concerned stare, in understanding the eyes that expectantly wait, and in feeling far fierier than previous times, I find the strength I need to produce a voice.

“...Can we...try something different?”

Nerves drive me to bite my swollen lip, as if Peeta’s going to react poorly or something equivalent. But as truly expected, he blinks the concern away before the tension visibly melts above me.

“Oh! Yeah, uh...sure,” he murmurs, beginning to smile despite lingering bits of confusion still present in his brows, “Is that why you...?”

“Yes...”

“Oh,” he breathes, chuckling softly before leaning back in for another kiss. He nestles close once more, our bare forms pressing and creating small hints of tantalizing friction. Be it the throbbing within, or the very present feeling of his erection between us, I break the kiss with quickened pants.

Unbothered now, and in a better understanding towards my desperation, he moves to kiss and bite at my neck. My hips and eyes both roll, the intense lust leaving me less bothered by the various noises sounding from my throat.

Peeta too, must be quickly getting tugged back; I feel him twitch before he softly grunts into the tender skin of my collar.

“What would you like?” he huskily whispers, topping off the question by tracing my bone with his tongue.

Between nerves and the sensations he’s dizzying me with, I briskly shake my head.

“Don’t make me say it...” I wheeze.

I feel his mouth turn upwards against my skin, and he chuckles before drawing forth artistry, painting his way up my neck and cheeks with brushing lips.

“Alright...” he says thickly, and I think I can feel him quivering slightly, “Show me then?”

I tense, but catching his stare grounds me. Beyond the drippings of ebony lust and fiery coals, I can see that beautiful understanding, that adoration with zero judgement. It’s what drove me to explore initially, and thus, does it fuel me once more.

My hands come to rest upon his muscular chest, quivering ever so slightly as I give a gesturing push. He follows my direction without hesitation, moving until we’re both sitting up on the bed. Another bout of hesitance grips me, but upon seeing the sight of him, heavily engorged and nearly flush against his stomach, I break through once again.

My stare manages to break to a necessity then, gazing upon his amputated leg with another bite of my lip.

“Your prosthetic...”

I can see his breath catch, watching his chest heave as I momentarily avoid his stare.

“...I need it?” he whispers.

I can only nod, and he thankfully doesn’t press, scurrying off to retrieve and reattach it. I’m piloted once more; my body seizes the opportunity to get into position while he’s not looking. Though my heart pounds something terrible, though trembles alight in my limbs, I roll onto my hands and knees, poised and ready for what I crave.

Peeta’s to my backside now, so I cannot see his reaction to what I’m offering. I can certainly hear it though, as well as almost feel it, the room seemingly spiking in temperature the moment he notices.

“O-oh...”

I tremble in both deep anticipation and tension, still unable to look at him. There’s a bit of pause though, and right when I think I’ve made a mistake, I feel the bed shift with the re-introduction of his weight. My thighs clench something terrible at his presence behind me, and I feel my entire lower half quivering.

Made even worse when Peeta groans my name.

“Katniss...”

The amount of lust is incredible. I could almost rocket myself backwards upon him. It’s wild, and hard to imagine how I wound up in such a position. But through the salaciousness, through the smoke clouding my brain, nerves still manage to peek.

“Is...this okay?” I shakily whisper.

“Yeah...” he breathes, and I nearly run woozy at the sensation of his hands ghosting my curves, “Is this...?”

I almost move beyond my own control, thrusting my hips backward and placing myself into his grasp. It’s his turn to tremble, and he groans yet again.

“God...Katniss...”

I’m his craft once more. His hands grasp me, knead me, squeezing my voluptuous backside as he would when he prepares dough. And just as the touch readies dough for heat, it too, sets me utterly ablaze.

Unbridled moans and mewls sound from my throat at his massage, my legs spreading wider and my back arching further. There’s barely a connection between anxiety and my ravenous core anymore, hunger almost entirely at the helm.

“God...” Peeta moans again, and such a noise pushes me into raw desperation.

“Peeta...” I whimper in a tone so unlike my own, “Peeta...”

We’re on the same plane. He understands immediately. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just as hungry as I am, made raw by the sight before him.

So he quickly rectifies the situation. I feel the bed shift, before he brings a shaky hand to grasp one of my hips. I’m barely breathing, barely able to process with such deep anticipation. His following words almost don’t reach me, what with the beautifully torturous feeling of his head just barely brushing betwixt my folds.

“Okay...I love you, Katniss...”

I somehow wheeze, somehow manage, those words landing when nothing else can.

“I love you too- AH!”

I’m no stranger to the feeling of Peeta sheathing himself deep within me, to holding him snuggly and tightly in a space reserved just for him. We’ve danced in it and dazzled in each other so much lately that it’s, in fact, almost become something of a second nature.

So it’s definitely strange that just a mere change can have electrifying, incredible effects.

The cry from his entrance was utterly unavoidable; he feels deeper and heavier than ever before. I’m stunned at how different it feels, at the intensity behind it. He’s within familiar grounds, and yet it feels entirely new.

I’m dazed, but my hunger is utterly elated. It sings at the feeling, rejoices, driving me to slide myself backwards against him, swallowing him impossibly deeper.

His groan intersects beautifully with mine, the both of us likely relishing in the sensations. When I dare to ease my hips forward again, I feel Peeta’s other hand reach to grasp. With his hold complete, he pulls me back as he thrusts deeply.

And I already find that I’m quickly losing control, everything working to utterly unravel me.

The strokes, so deep and reaching, quickly earn a stream of incoherence from my hanging mouth. I moan and whimper and grunt a plenty, weaving a tapestry of pleasured nothings.

“Mmm...Oh, God...Peeta...”

There’s also something about this that strangely seems to amplify, something that makes it the most different from our previous sessions: I cannot see him. I cannot see the beautiful, wrenched effort on his visage, nor can I steal the moans from his lips. I cannot latch myself to his tender neck, nor can I run my fingers through his ashy locks.

It’s just the sensation of him within me. Nothing more but his powerful drives and our precious connection.

No wonder it’s so raw, so animalistic indeed.

But perhaps, not mutual.

Where I would expect Peeta to take off, to drive with reckless abandon, he instead remains...oddly consistent with his glides. They’re heavenly, and reaching, but unamplified. In fact, instead of speeding up as expected, he seemingly slows within me.

Such a turn, a difference in the usual chain of events, is enough to whip my head around. It’s my turn to furrow with confusion and concern, squinting through the intense mindfog to finally lay eyes upon him.

Which ends up being a blessing and a curse; the sight of him in such a position is almost enough to send me reeling further. Seeing him kneeling, grasping my hips, panting with reddened cheeks, and disappearing deep within...

A shiver runs up the length of my spine, exiting through my mouth as my voice just barely manages to quiver his name.

“...P-Peeta?”

“I...Um...”

It’s like we’ve switched places, what with him being apprehensive and me existing in a realm of thirst and confusion. Just as before, a cock of the brow and a building question is what spurs the opposite party into explanation.

“I’m...It’s going to sound...cheesy, okay? But I uh...It’s...Different I guess, not being able to...look at your face. Or kiss you. Or...”

He shifts himself a bit as he reaches for my face with a hand, effectively sending himself inward at a deep, torturous angle. It drives me strangely mad, my eyes rolling and my throat resonating with a squeak. It feels so foreign, to be reduced to this. And in my state, in my heightened desperation, I find myself blurting without much control.

“-Keep going.”

He freezes then, inside and out, looking upon me with widened blues. Such an expression mildly grounds me, offering a pang of guilt and a subsequent apology to follow.

“Sorry...” I wheeze, “I...I didn’t mean...If...you’re not...”

I’m a mess with my attempts to breathily stammer. But just as further guilt begins to bud, just as I fear I’ve forced him into an uncomfortable place, he gives such an unexpected and strong jerk of his hips that I yelp into the tense space.

When the shock leaves my system, when the static clears my brain, I’m able to see him beginning to smile once more, a bit more lecherous than before.

“Hmm...You know, different...might not be so bad then...”

“But-”

Again, he tortuously cuts me off, giving another strong jerk and sending me careening.

“Peeta!” I exclaim, looking at him with widened eyes, trembling legs, and a stunned soul.

“Because...” he grunts, softly squeezing and kneading my hips, “You like this, don’t you?”

He shifts then, focusing on slowly feeding himself into my depths, effectively earning a low grunt from his throat. A noise that’s quickly overpowered by my own, an open-mouthed moan as I squirm against the mattress, against his lovely torment.

“Peeta...”

“Yeah? You like it? Hmm, love?”

My eyes flash at his darkened vocals, followed by a bite of my lip to hush the rolling whimper. Something is most definitely in the air tonight. The sun surely exploded in its descent. We’ve never really been so...raw with each other, so driven and demanding.

But it seems neither of us have any qualms. Even my worry towards pressuring Peeta into an unfavorable session seems to back away, what with his ebony murmurs and expressions so evident. We seem to be re-aligning, re-joining each other on the same plane of passion.

Thus, do I desperately nod, at his complete disposal. I slide myself backwards then, easing until I’m practically touching his pelvis, panting and gritting at the extent of penetration.

“I’ve forever to kiss you..." he whispers.

Please...Please please.

I’m hardly with it enough to question the strangeness behind the newfound begging, simply squirming and existing entirely within the desperate space.

“...But not long enough to pleasure you so...”

Thus, miraculously, do any last bits of wall come tumbling down.

And I’m no longer in our bedroom. I’m within droves of ardent fire. I’m traversing the very surface of our sun. I’m in a place so foreign, a state so delightfully insane, where none have ever brought me before.

All from the sudden, strong, and intense reaches of him deep within.

Oh, how I fall apart. How I deliciously unravel. Being so pent up, so oddly starving, the hunger gorges and instantly sets me alight. Just as it screamed before, I too, find myself vocalizing with such strength.

It’s a medley, an absolutely chaotic medley of passion. Beyond my cries and his grunts, I can hear his pelvis slapping against my back side again and again. Beyond the flashes and shivers in my vision, I can see our bed hammering from the force he’s inflicting. Beyond the heat and pounding stream of blood, I can feel him hitting places so new and intense.

And it’s everything. I love him. I adore him. And I cherish the connection we have, the way we can send each other directly into the heavens. I never could have imagined. Even mere months ago, I never could have imagined.

“Gggh...Katniss!”

His deep grunt coupled with the groan of my name is enough to break me from my overwhelmed thoughts; the dig of his fingers into my hips is enough to ground me completely. I cannot escape the ungodly pleasure now. I am present, and at its full mercy.

And when a thrust hits just so, when a piece of my glass cracks and threatens to shatter, it’s no wonder that my arms fall instantly gelatinous. I cry and toss my head back, sending a rolling ebony wave before my front half descends. I desperately grip the blankets, knotting the fabric with begging grunts and whines.

But it only continues to build, and build, and build, impossibly faster and impossibly deeper. Our souls are tangled, so very tangled, dancing and intertwining and refusing to let go. Naturally, I start to ascend, faster than I ever have before. The fire licks its way up my belly, caressing my jiggling breasts and-

...No, that’s his hand, reaching beneath to knead and massage, emboldened and salacious. My eyes roll something terrible, my hips even more so, more and more of the glass chipping away. He’s snarling, almost yelling; I know he’s so close too. But somehow, just as he always has, Peeta dashes through the chaos and holds me above all.

His wandering hand suddenly juts backwards, racing down my body before fingers find their prized destination. There’s a subsequent bolt of electricity at my core, followed by a heave of tension as cracks spiderweb throughout. I’m on the cliff, on the edge, writhing and seeing it shatter before me...

“Peet-”

The final note of his name shifts into that of a divine keen, elongated and reaching as my wings outstretch. I feel like I’ve never flown so high before. It feels as if though I breach the very reaches of our atmosphere, everything whited out and flashing with a dazzling array of color.

Surely I’m screaming. Surely I’m crying out with such forceful contractions wracking my system. But I can barely breathe, barely process. There’s nothing but this. Nothing but him.

Him- somewhere below, I can hear his desperate groans. He too, yelps like he’s attempting to hold on to the Earth, to stop such a rapid ascent into space. But with a distant, cracking yell, and with another push that drives me even higher, I welcome him into my flying embrace.

I hold onto him so tightly. I fly and dance and marvel in the closeness, in the connection we share. I soar hand in hand, his softness rivaling that of the cloud we pass. Before eventually, inevitability, we must return to a realm more frequented.

I land hard. My form essentially evaporates upon impact. The moment Peeta breaks our connection, the moment he releases my hips, I fall into a heap atop the blankets. It’s no surprise that I’m shivering, nor that I’m weeping, overwhelmed to the warmest, highest degree. I remain on my stomach, limbs sprawled every which way, continuing to pant and ride through the occasional aftershocks.

When the sound of my pounding heart departs from my ears, when I become more aware of my surroundings, I can hear Peeta on the bed behind me, heavily panting all the while. Surely he’s sitting back, likely riding the same lingering effects as I.

But I need him. After almost selfishly delighting in such pleasures, I miss him. So I turn my head against the blankets, attempting to look in his direction as I reach with a hand.

“P-Peeta?”

Unsurprisingly, he understands. In mere seconds, he heaves himself beside me, flopping down atop the mattress. Though I’m utterly exhausted, and akin to jelly, I hoist myself onto my side and into his arms, our bodies as close as possible without the added element of fire.

And there, I snuggle, I caress, I kiss. I make up for the missed touches. He of course, reciprocates, the both of us tiredly offering all the affection we can muster between our shaking breaths. Soon enough, falling back into our usual patterns, we begin to smile. Then breathlessly giggle. Then speak and whisper sweet nothings through our exhausted exchanges.

“Oh...my God...Oh God...” I wheeze into one of our many kisses.

Peeta snickers a bit then, his hands beginning to softly rub circles against my bare back.

“I don’t...I don’t know what happened...what came over me...” I whisper, shying away to nestle my cheek against his.

He laughs more then, somehow managing to tug me even closer.

“Hooo, well...Whatever it was...I’m glad...I’m glad it did...”

I feel myself blushing, somewhat...shocked by the intensity of my actions. And in considering my behavior, in considering how ferocious the hunger was, it unsurprisingly reminds me of the likely sacrifice Peeta had to make in order to appease. I flush even harder, moving to hide my face against his perspiring shoulder.

“I’m sorry...” I murmur against his sweet skin.

“Hun?”

“I didn’t mean to- I mean, I didn’t...”

I of course, struggle through my words, through my explanation. I’ve never been good at saying something. But my love patiently waits, expectantly waits, continuing to softly rub me through the silence. As usual, his understanding anchors me, and I whimper the truth rather sheepishly.

“It just felt so good, Peeta...”

To my relief, he gives a hard, handsome laugh, rattling our tangled forms.

“That’s all I could ever hope for, sweetheart...” he replies with lingering chuckles, pressing his gentle lips to my dampened hair.

I sigh at the tender contact, but continue to push myself.

“Really though...I’m sorry...I didn’t...want to make you uncomfortable...”

“You didn’t.”

When I huff against his shoulder, he softly tugs me backwards, allowing our stares to connect once more.

“You didn’t, love. Clearly.” He chuckles a bit more, before falling back into his earnest tone. “Like I said, it was just...different, that’s all. I marvel in your beauty, you know.”

When I scowl at him, at the compliment, he grins even wider.

“And yes, I’m used to seeing your face in this. But thankfully, every inch of you happens to be stunning.”

“Peeta...” I groan, feeling my cheeks flush something terrible beneath his onslaught of tender eloquence. Once more, he laughs, before leaning in to give me a quick kiss.

“I just got to address the less...frequented places,” he continues with a smirk, “Which after tonight, won’t stay that way for long, I’m sure.”

I huff, which again, earns another snicker coupled with a kiss. When we break away however, I find myself staring into those sparkling, warm blues. His expression shifts into something more gentle, more awed, surely catching the earnestness behind my stare. My hands reach up to cup his face, stroking my thumbs against his scarred yet softened skin.

“I did miss this, you know...” I whisper, topping my words off with a kiss to his nose.

“Well, I did say we have forever,” he replies with a growing, crooked grin.

“That’s not long enough for this either...”

I pull him into perhaps the softest, tenderest kiss of the night, one more fitting for the day than the dusk. It’s one I pour all my adoration into, of course having to verbally proclaim it all the same.

“I love you so much...” I murmur against his lips.

Once more, the connection breaks from the strength of his smile, delightfully warming body and soul before the sentiments are returned.

“And I love you...”

There we remain for numerous comfortable beats, continuing to lazily kiss and caress until the last of the sunlight disappears from the night sky. I find myself contemplating what lead to such an explosion, what lead to my desire firing off to such an extreme degree. Of course Peeta would be on the same wavelength, though the grinning question that breaks the silence gets me laughing and shoving his chest.

“You don’t...happen to have further tricks up your sleeve, do you?”

205 notes · View notes

symphonicmetal101 · 3 years

Text

Brother Bonding(?) HCs

Lucifer

Mammon

He and Mammon have a bit of a complicated relationship, in that Mammon is always getting into trouble, and Lucifer always has to get him out of it, and then takes it upon himself to scold him for getting them into trouble. However, there are times when Lucifer helps Mammon pull pranks on the other brothers, under the condition that Mammon doesn't tell anyone, otherwise he loses Goldie permanently. The pranks are well executed, and often the blame is but on Belphie or Satan instead.

Levi

We know that Lucifer is responsible for Levi's obsession with Ruri-chan and anime as a whole. Lucifer is often concerned for Levi, as he is familiar with self-doubt, and sympathizes with Levi's constant stream of it. He tries to set aside at least one day a month where he will rewatch old anime with Levi, listen to his spiels, and leave him an allowance to use however he would like. If Lucifer is too busy with paperwork, he'll invite Levi to his office and ask him about the latest games and mangas, even if he isn't listening the entire time.

Satan

Ah, this is a little more complicated. Truthfully, they don't spend much time together. However, if Satan happens to mention a book he wanted, even offhandedly, Lucifer will make sure it ends up in Satan's possession somehow, even if it's through MC. Satan notices this, and as much as he wants to hate Lucifer, those days he makes an extra effort to try and not tease or humiliate Lucifer. It's almost like a silent truce.

Asmo

Yeah, yeah, Asmo paints everyone's nails. But Asmo also knows massage and aromatherapy. When Lucifer is particularly stressed, he'll take it upon himself to try and help him relax. If he has the patience, Lucifer will listen to Asmo explain the science between different scents and how they help the mind and body. Sometimes Asmo isn't sure if Lucifer is actually listens, but within three days of their chats, he finds a small package on his bed with different oils, and a note that says, "I look forward to learning what these oils can do." - Lucifer

Beel

Beel likes to cook, bake, etc. Because Lucifer is always on the go, Beel tries to come up with meals that are easy to walk around with. Lucifer is always the one Beel asks to taste test, (if Beel manages to resist eating the entire thing himself), because Lucifer will give him an honest opinion. It's rare that Lucifer has anything but praise for Beel, but on the off chance he doesn't, he'll walk him through a couple of ideas he could do to improve it, and Beel will deliver.

Note: this is also how Beel found out that Lucifer has the lowest spice tolerance out of the brothers, and he is not to mention it to anyone.

Belphie

Another relationship that serves to be more complex. Lucifer often finds himself wanting to reconcile with Belphie, almost to restore the kind of relationship they had when they were angels. But when you lock someone in an attic against their will, (even if it was to protect them), they tend to hold a grudge. Again, they don't really spend time together unless Beel is present, but Lucifer tries to help Belphie in little ways, like switching his linens weekly, fluffing his pillows, making sure he actually makes it to a bed when he goes to sleep. Belphie just assumes it's Beel doing these things though, and Lucifer lets him. He hopes one day Belphie will realize how much he really does care for him.

Mammon

Levi

They usually don't get along, mostly because of financial issues between them. However, when they are able to put that aside, they can actually enjoy each others company. Mammon has a lot of energy, and Levi likes video games. As a compromise, they regularly play games such as DDR or Just Dance. The whole time, they will insult each other, but lovingly.

Satan

Satan will actively look for books on finance, budgeting, business, etc. To help Mammon. He pitches it as ways to help him get rich, and they will spend hours together trying to form a business plan. While Mammon doesn't usually have the patience, for the sake of spending time with his little brother, he pushes through. Satan usually does this only after one of Mammon's bigger schemes fell through, or when Lucifer tells Mammon to stop.

Asmo

These guys both model. Mammon will set aside some money and time to go spend with Asmo on clothes, accessories, etc. Mammon is just as skilled behind the camera as he is in front of it, so whenever Asmo wants to model, doesn't matter where, Mammon is ready. Sometimes when they've planned their outing with enough notice, Mammon will have saved enough money to buy something for Asmo.

Beel

Whenever Beel is cooking for himself, he usually adds a lot seasonings. Sometimes, it's in hopes that spice will slow him down. Other times it's because he really likes the food, but has almost become desensitized to the taste😥 however, when he makes these batches of food, he'll sometimes invite Mammon to join him. Mammon has an ungodly high tolerance for spice, at least when he's eating. (His stomach may or may not suffer later). Mammon sometimes foolishly challenges Beel to a speed eating contest. Beel tries to decline; he just wants to eat, and he does not want to watch Mammon give himself indigestion or heartburn, but Mammon, persistent as ever, will try and eat as many servings of Beel's food as quickly as possible. This is one of the few times Beel doesn't get mad, he just watches with mild amusemeny and concern.

Belphie

Belphie and Mammon are surprisingly close, despite being complete foils of eacb other. Mammon has lots of energy, Belphie has none. Mammon likes to go out, Belphie likes to stay in. However, building forts? Hell yes, Belphie has enough energy for that. They usually build pillow and blanket forts in the observatory. Belphie will direct Mammon in how to build it for the most amount of comfort. Usually they'll just end up plugging in their headphones and listening to their own music in each other's company until they fall asleep and/or Beel joins them.

Levi

Satan

Levi introduced Satan to VR, and their relationship has taken a turn for the better since then. Satan is more interested in medical simulators and animal simulation games. Levi once made the mistake of playing Mario Kart with Satan, and his room was left in shambles, so now they only do sims to avoid the competition with other players. Satan also likes to play Among Us, as it gives him a chance to flex his detective skills. His self-control is much better with this, for whatever reason.

Asmo

Levi and Asmo are constantly at odds. Not like Mammon, but Asmo cringes every time he sees the way Levi is sitting, every time he hears Levi has ruined his sleep schedule, and every time he sees him sleeping in tje goddamn bathtub. Yes, it has lots of pillows, but none of them are really good for support. He is constantly trying to get Levi to at least stretch or do yoga every once in a while, as well as sit properly in his chair. These stretching session are also when Levi starts to talk about the next cosplay he's working on, which Asmo will undoubtedly want to help with.

(Ik that its implied that Levi taught Asmo how to sew and stuff, but that hc is everywhere, otherwise I would elaborate. It's really cute though.)

Beel

Although Levi spends a lot of his time in his room, he is still the Grand Admiral of Hell's Navy. He does dedicate some time to working out, and when he does, he does it with Beel, because he knows Beel will help keep him on track. Beel is also Levi's biggest source of encouragment. Levi thanks Beel in mass quantities of food from Akuzon later, sometimes in hopes of winning something from a draw, other times as a genuine thank you.

Belphie

Introvert buddies! Belphie doesn't really care for video games, Levi doesn't have the same speed as Mammon for building a pillow fort, but sometimes Belphie will ask to come into Levi's room to look at his aquarium. He finds it relaxing. They don't really talk to each other, they just enjoy each other's company. If Belphie is feeling curious or notices Levi is kind of upset, he'll start asking Levi about the different fish in his aquarium, which quickly cheers Levi up. Belphie's favourite thing about Levi though, is that he is usually awake the same time he is, helping him feel a little less lonely.

Satan

Asmo

I've mentioned this before in my random hcs post, but Asmo and Satan like to study astrology together. They find it fascinating in how accurate it can be, especially since they only get to see the *real* stars, moon, sun, and planets when they're in the human realm. Asmo actually introduced it to Satan, as he used to study it in the Celestial Realm as well.

Beel

Beel is constantly coming up with new recipes, so Satan documents them all for him. He'll be a scribe, while Beel tells him exactly what he's doing the whole time. The other brothers don't know, (Beel asked to keep t a secret), but Satan has helped Beel publish 3 cookbooks already.

Satan also attends Beel's games whenever possible, and Beel has attended Satan's debate team or sometimes book club meetings whenever possible. Because Satan and Belphie are close, so are Satan and Beel.

Belphie

>:)

They are constantly coming up with ways to inconvenience Lucifer, which is their main form of bonding. However, Belphie also taught Satan the constellations when they were younger, so now they will often go stargazing together. Satan doesn't remember, but he used to make up stories about the constellations, and Belphie has a written record of all of them. Sometimes, Belphie will retell the stories from memory to see if Satan recognizes it, but to no avail. Instead Satan will tell another story he has read about the stars. They tell each other stories and stargaze until they fall asleep.

Asmo

Beel

Beel will do warm ups with Asmo; basic stretches, a jog, etc. They will sometimes do yoga together. However, Beel works out a lot, and sometimes his muscles get sore, so Asmo gets to work. Being around Asmo brings out the gossip girl in Beel, so while Asmo is giving him a massage, he's also getting all the tea from all the clubs that Beel is a part of. Beel is very careful with his delivery, but he trusts Asmo to never spin his words the wrong way and to use the new info for good.

Belphie

Asmo has his own fashion line. He often asks Belphie to rate the comfort of his clothes, as he wants them to be fashionable, functional, and comfortable. Belphie never pulls his punches, and Asmo is grateful for the honest criticism. However, sometimes it does get on his nerves, but Belphie makes up for it later by getting Asmo new linens, often silk, because Belphie knows Asmo's preferences. Asmo always asks him where he finds it, but Belphie never answers.

Beel + Belphie

These two can bond almost over anything. However, one of their favorite things to do together is make Quetzalcoatl brain soup. Belphie stays awake long enough to remind Beel to leave some for him.

(My brain just left me here to rot apparently, I'm sorry.)

Oof

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me thoughts

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tanyawritesstories · 3 years

Text

Friendly Competition | Boost x Reader

This is a fic I wrote a long time ago and I'm only now posting. I haven't written in months and I'm honestly thinking about quitting but regardless, here you go I hope you like it.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: NSFW, smut, vibrators, butt plugs, general mischief, anal exploration (the good kind), fluff, Sinker is nosey

•••

It wasn't often that you visited these kinds of stores. You usually just ordered the products from the holonet and waited for them to be delivered, but you were out and about with your boyfriend and it was his last day on leave. You both had been walking through the mid levels of Coruscant and seen the store. You decided it would be worth it to try and find something fun to spice things up while you were away.

You and Boost had both kept your jacket hoods up as you entered. Boost looked around curiously while you kept your head tilted down just enough to hide the permanent blush staining your cheeks. Sure, you'd been in sex toy stores before, but that time was with a group of friends where the attention wasn't on you and you could easily blend into the group and not be noticed.

Boost took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers together as you roamed the store, browsing. "You're not usually the shy one," he whispered. You looked up at him, finding a teasing smirk on his handsome face. Your face turned even more red and you buried your head in his chest, causing him to laugh. He put his arms around you and held you to him, loving how much bigger he was than you. You closed your eyes and nuzzled into him, resting the side of your head against his warm body. You listened to his heartbeat, it was one of the things that comforted you the most.

You opened your eyes after a moment and spotted an interesting object across the room. You broke away from Boost and made your way to it. Plucking the box off the shelf you glanced over it, a number of wicked ideas popping into your brain.

"Baby," you called sweetly, "come here please." You turned around and hid the box behind your back, watching as Boost walked closer with a suspicious look on his face. "Oh no," he said, "what've you found?" You smiled. "If I ask nicely will you wear this?" You brought the box out from behind your back. Boost's eyebrows shot up on his face as he looked at the image on the box.

"A vibrating buttplug?" He questioned. "Are you serious?" You giggled, "c'mon babe, it'll be fun." Boost crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

It was a recent discovery that Boost liked anal. You had been in the middle of giving him a mind shaking blowjob when you decided to be bold. Your fingers were slicked up with spit and precum so you had slowly pushed one fingertip inside him. He came instantly, letting out the most heavenly noises you'd ever heard him make. You both had discussed it afterwards and Boost had shown interest in exploring the realm further. You figured this was a good next step, you also loved to be a tease.

"Please Boostie, baby. Please! It'll be fun, I promise," you pleaded. "Look at you, begging in public," he teased. Your blush deepened and you glared at him through your eyelashes. "Please," you whispered. Boost sighed and stared at the ceiling, thinking. A sly smirk formed on his face, making you uneasy.

"I will wear that if.." he took a few steps back and picked something off another shelf, "..you wear these."

You looked at him in disbelief. "Vibrating panties? That's where you're taking this?"

"It's only fair," he said. "You wear these one day and I'll wear that the next." You thought about it, another fantastic idea coming to mind.

"Alright, you wear this one day on campaign and I have the controller. Then I'll wear those another day and give you the controller. When we get back and go to 79s like we always do, we'll both wear them."

Boost nodded. "The goal is you can't draw any suspicion, try to be as quiet and collected as possible while the other one of us teases the other with the controller. Whoever breaks first loses."

You nodded and walked to stand next to him. "No touching allowed, only tease with the vibrator. If anyone manages to guess exactly what we're both doing, which I doubt, then we both lose." Boost smiled, "Deal."

~~~~

Luckily, this campaign would be a short one, only a week long supply mission. You snuck your toy contraband into the cruiser with no trouble, hiding both small boxes amongst your clothes.

You were a strategist, normally coming up with battle plans. General Plo Koon had put you in charge of this mission, hoping to give you more assignments in the future that didn't just include destroying things.

The General was currently attending business at the Jedi temple, leaving you and Commander Wolffe in charge of the entire operation. You could tell Wolffe wasn't a fan of it, but he would do his job without complaint.

After the first couple days of traveling, the cruiser had arrived above the planet. The first day of delivering supplies to the surface was also the first competition day.

Boost had made sure that the vibrator was working and in its proper place when you got ready this morning. He had watched you the entire time you got ready, twirling the small controller in his hand giddily.

“You had better be nice,” you warned lightly. “Oh I won’t,” Boost laughed. He had a sexy but dangerous look in his eyes which was turning you on already. Not a good start.

The boring tasks of the day went by without any issue, until it was time for the briefing. You knew your boyfriend was bound to pull something here, but you didn’t know exactly what.

It’s ok, just act normal.

That was easier said than done.

The second you entered the room all eyes were on you, patiently awaiting the plan of action. You smiled at everyone and was making your way to the front of the room when you felt the vibrator start up. You let out a squeak and your knees buckled, you grabbed onto the table nearby for support. You laughed nervously and stood up straight, determined to win and keep a straight face.

“Alright everyone, classic supply mission nothing you all haven’t done before,” you started. Boost was sneaky, manipulating the controller without anyone knowing, spiking the intensity up and down quickly. The tiny jolts and deep breaths you were taking were causing a few of the men to give you weird looks as you talked.

“..and of course the remainder of the week will be spent making sure that the civilians have everything they neeeeed!” Your voice rose to a squeal at the end as you felt the vibrations increase significantly. You clenched your thighs together and your breathing picked up.

“Are you alright, sir?” You heard one of them ask. You looked up, eyes scanning the room, a few of the men looked concerned and others looked confused. You glanced over a Boost for a brief second to find him with a shit eating grin on his face, half hidden by his hand. The vibrations felt good, you just didn’t want it to feel good right now. The toy was positioned just over your clit, delivering pleasurable tingling that flowed through your body.

“Y/N.”

You stood up straight at the voice of Commander Wolffe, who was standing on the other side of the room. “Are you ok to continue, or are you not capable?” He questioned with an annoyed tone. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself. “I’m alright, Commander,” you said. The rest of the briefing went by without too much of a hitch, Boost was still being a little shit but you were determined not to let him win.

The entire day was filled with frustration. Boost wouldn’t let up, bringing you to the precipice of orgasming in front of a few civilians you were talking to, you wanted to slap him for that one. Every time he turned the vibrations high your knees would bend and you’d let out either a yelp or a moan that you tried to cover up. It got to the point where one of the medics pulled you aside and asked if there was something seriously wrong. You were able to convince him that you were fine and just tired. You walked triumphantly back to your tent as the day ended. You had won this round.

~~~~

You woke Boost up by laying on top of him and nuzzling your nose into his neck. He groaned, reluctantly opening his eyes to find you already looking at him. A few days on the planet had passed and it was now Boost’s turn to compete. “What time is it?” He grumbled. “Oh six hundred,” you answered, getting off of him and kneeling on his sleeping mat. “What do we have to do today?” Boost rubbed his eyes. “Same thing we did yesterday only in a different part of the city,” you responded. Boost looked up at you and you smiled deviously. “Guess what you have to wear today,” you said. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the silicone plug. “Did you seriously wake me up this early just to put a buttplug in me?” He asked with almost disbelief in his voice.

You giggled. “Maaayybeee. Everybody else is going to wake up soon so I suggest we get a move on.” Boost groaned again and rolled onto his stomach, putting his hips up in the air. You removed his blanket and rubbed his back to calm him down, he turned his head so he could see what you were doing. You had to admit, your boyfriend looked incredibly hot in this position: head down, ass up. It was causing your own arousal to spike; who knew, maybe if he liked this he’d let you peg him sometime down the road.

“It’s not gonna hurt, is it?” He asked. You smiled warmly at him as your hands wandered lower, rubbing gently over his bum. “No, it shouldn’t, sweetie. We got the smallest one they had, it’s not much bigger than my fingers,” you told him. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to, Boost.” He took a deep, calming breath, “No, I want to do it.” You smiled and kissed his cheek, “I will have to get you ready first, ok? I’m just going to use my fingers to stretch you out a little so you can take the toy, ok?” Boost nodded and verbally agreed.

You fished the small bottle of lube out of your pocket and slid his blacks and briefs down to his thighs. “You have a very cute butt, baby,” you commented, causing Boost to laugh. You touched your fingers to the crease where his ass and thigh met, slowly running your fingers up to their destination. Boost sucked in a breath as your fingers danced over his hole and his muscles tensed up. “You have to relax, baby,” you cooed, “otherwise it might hurt. Do you want me to touch your cock too? Might help you relax.” Boost shook his head and balanced his upper half on his elbows. “No, we agreed to no touching, just do what you have to do to get it in,” he urged.

You complied and reminded him to relax. You squirted some lube onto your index finger and some onto his hole, spreading it around. “I’m going to put my finger in now, ok?” Boost nodded and took a deep breath, exhaling when you told him to. On his exhale his muscles loosened and you slowly pushed your finger in just past the first knuckle. You could hear him bite back a moan and his breathing started picking up a little bit. You waited until he got used to it before beginning to thrust your finger in and out, pushing it a little bit deeper every time.

“How is it?” You asked. He let out a shaky breath. “Just get the plug in, I won’t last long if you keep doing that,” he breathed. You smiled, it was a good feeling knowing that you could get your boyfriend to the brink of bliss with just a finger in his ass. You carefully added a second finger, repeating the same slow motions and techniques to gently stretch him out. When you thought he was ready, you lubed up the toy and removed your fingers, enjoying the whining sound he made when he was empty.

You rested the toy against his ass and slowly pushed it in. Boost bit his lip to hold back the indecent noises threatening to spill out. "Just a little further," you encouraged. You used your other hand to trace his V lines and divert his attention to get him to relax. He shuddered and you noticed the erection that was being held down with the front of his briefs. One last small push on your part and the plug came to a rest inside him.

Boost let out a breath and you chuckled. "There's a good boy. How's it feel?" You questioned. He shifted his hips and wiggled around, trying to get used to the feeling. "It's a bit….odd," he said. You pulled his blacks and briefs back up and spanked him. "Stand up, it'll feel different," you urged, standing up yourself. He stood up with a sigh and a weird look in his face. "I think I'll get used to it," he said. "Let's start the day."

~~~~

This was fun, you were having a great time messing with your boyfriend. It had only been little things so far on the low to medium settings of the vibrator. You had teased just enough to make him squirm a bit. Once you did it while he was moving a box of supplies and he dropped the box, which nearly landed on his foot. You hadn't used the higher settings yet, you were saving those to make a big scene that you hoped would break Boost and give you the win.

That time came when the work for the day was done. Boost, Sinker, Comet and several other troopers were sitting around a table playing an intense game of Sabacc. You were sitting at a nearby table going over the plans for tomorrow and making sure everything would be taken care of by the time the battalion had to leave the planet. From your spot you had a clear view of Boost and could hear everything being said at their table. Time to start your game.

You turned the vibrator on and upped it a couple notches. You heard Boost suck in a breath and saw him tense up, but he steadied himself and continued. You let it go for a little while before cranking it a bit higher. He took a deep breath and glanced up at you, but you had your head back in the plans already. You waited a couple more minutes until Boost was once again concentrated on his game.

You kept your eyes on Boost as you cranked the vibrator up all the way. He instantly dropped his cards with a shout and clamped his hands on his knees. He was biting down hard on his bottom lip and his knuckles were turning white from his tight grip on his legs. You heard his brothers asking if he was alright and Boost tried to explain it away as a leg cramp, which wasn’t convincing at all. Boost took a few deep breaths, calming himself down and picking his cards back up. He wiggled a bit and leaned forwards in his seat so there was less pressure on the plug as opposed to sitting directly on it. After a few seconds their game continued as normal, you tried again a few times after that but got only small reactions from him. Boost looked over at you and winked, knowing he had won his round as well. You held back the urge to bonk him on the head, it would all come down to the final round in a few days.

~~~~

The supply mission had been a success, the citizens of the planet were grateful for the aid and they were well on their way to the complete restoration of their cities when the 104th had left. Now, back on Coruscant, Boost and yourself were just arriving at 79s where several more of his brothers waited. You were both wearing your toys tonight as part of the game that had been discussed. This was the final round, whoever broke, if anyone could, would be the loser. Neither of you had talked about a prize or reward for the winner, both too caught up in the idea of a fun and arousing game.

Boost and you entered the club and found his brothers waving you over to the table they had occupied already. You greeted them with smiles and went to sit down. The moment your butt hit the seat, Boost cranked the vibrations up high and you yelped, trying to stand back up and striking your knee hard on the underside of the table. Wildfire asked if you were ok and you assured him that you were before sliding uncomfortably into the booth to make room for Boost to sit next to you.

Warthog brought several drinks back to the table from the bar and you all chatted, laughed, and drank carelessly, enjoying the free time spent together. Boost was halfway through taking a sip of his beer when you turned his vibrator on, causing him to spit some of it back into his glass on reflex. He began coughing to try and cover up the moan he nearly let slip, all while you tried to hold back giggles and whimpers of your own.

A few minutes later, Boost put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. It was nothing out of the usual for his brothers to see, but under the table he used his leg to nudge yours apart allowing your vibrator to land directly on your clit. You bit your lip and leaned your head into his chest, hoping none of them saw the blissed out look on your face. You turned Boost’s vibrator up a bit but he didn’t react, he’d gotten used to it and it was pissing you off. You were determined not to let him win.

When he least expected it, you carefully reached your hand over, under the cover of the table, and cupped his slowly growing length. You felt him buck into your hand and you made a point to be discreet, carrying on with conversation so no one suspected anything. You started rubbing Boost through his pants at which point he lowered his mouth to your ear. “You’re cheating,” he growled. You smiled and laughed, pretending he whispered a joke into your ear. “Yeah, well so are you,” you whispered back. You tried tugging your spread leg out from where he had it trapped under his own, but it was no use, Boost was strong. He glared at you and you glared right back for a few seconds until you both went back to acting normal, but Boost had an idea.

The next round of drinks came and the boys were starting to get more buzzed. You had your drink set on the table in front of you, you were about to reach for it when Boost reached across you in a hurry and knocked the glass of beer over. You gasped as the liquid spilled all down the front of you, you immediately knew he had done it on purpose, there was no way he didn’t. The rest of the boys asked if you were alright and you told them that there was no harm done.

“You want help cleaning that up, babe?” Boost asked, a suggestive look in his eyes. “Yes, that would be very helpful,” you replied. Boost told the boys that you would both be back soon before leading you back to the one-room refresher at the back of the club. As soon as the door was closed and locked, Boost was pushing you up against the wall, his lips colliding heatedly with yours. You made out, wrapping a leg around his hips to bring him closer and you could feel his hardened length against your thigh.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to restrain myself from pouncing on you while this thing was in my ass?” He asked, his breathing shallow. “I swear I’ve never been more turned on in my life.” You smirked and brought your leg down. “I think we can make an arrangement,” you purred. You hooked your fingers on your panties and dragged them down your legs while Boost bunched your skirt up around your waist. “Fuck, you’re glistening,” he observed. Boost kicked your legs apart and slowly ran a finger up and down your slit, collecting your juices. You whimpered, his actions sending pleasure radiating through your body.

You quickly worked on unzipping his pants and shoving them down to his knees, watching his long cock spring free of its restraints. You whimpered at the sight and Boost felt your hole flutter as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Fuck the rules, I’m going to take you hard and fast against this wall, that ok?” Boost asked breathlessly. “Don’t make me wait,” you replied with a devious smile. You smashed your lips into his and Boost lined himself up before slamming inside you in one powerful thrust.

You screamed as your back arched from the feeling, your noises drowned out by the loud music. Boost’s cock always filled you so nicely and you felt him twitch inside you. “Holy fuck, this feels good, shiiiit,” Boost moaned loudly. You then remembered while you had taken off your vibrating panties, Boost still had his vibrator nestled snugly inside his asshole. He started to fuck you at a fast pace making noises you’d never heard your boyfriend make before, moaning and whimpering so loud you were glad for the blaring music outside. You wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, meeting his thrusts and kissing his neck.

“Fuck, Boost, please harder,” you begged. Boost held you against him, absolutely destroying your pussy with the speed of his thrusts, the pleasure blaring through your body. “Babe, turn it up,” he grunted, “turn it up all the way and play with your clit, I’m close.” You fished the controller for his vibrator out of its hiding spot in your bra and turned it on max. You dropped the controller on the floor and used that hand to massage hard circles on your clit bringing you as close to release as your boyfriend.

Boost was overwhelmed with pleasure, his body felt like it was on fire. The plug in his ass was vibrating away, the feeling of being stuffed in his ass and strangled by your walls at the same time was mind blowing and Boost felt his release coming on fast. “I want you to cum before I do, baby,” he moaned, “aahhh, c’mon sugar, play with that clit.” His words in his voice only brought you closer, you could feel his cock twitching within you and with a few more strokes over your clit, you were cumming. White hot, liquid pleasure surged through you and your walls clamped tight around Boost’s cock. He thrusted a few more times and then stilled, his balls tightening as he shot his load deep inside you.

He reached behind him and pulled the plug out, letting it fall to the floor. He held you tight to him as your breathing settled down and you both came down from your highs. You both laughed and picked up your mess, washing off the vibrators and deciding not to wear them for the rest of the night. You both got dressed and tried your best to look like you hadn’t just fucked in the refresher of a club. You shared a sweet kiss before heading back out to the table.

Sinker was the only one still sitting at the table, the others had either gone to dance or get another drink. You sat down across from Sinker and Boost pulled you into his side. “So did you guys finally get those things out of your asses?” Sinker asked out of nowhere. You looked confused. “What things?” Sinker motioned vaguely to his lower body. “Those vibrators I assume you guys were wearing,” he answered like it was the most normal thing ever. “How did you know?” Boost asked, stunned that his brother had managed to figure it out. Sinker sat back in his seat, looking proud of himself. “I’m just that good,” he said. You and Boost shot him a guilty glare and he sighed. “I saw the packages in the trash,” he admitted.

You rolled your eyes and Boost laughed. “We tried so hard to be sneaky and we didn’t think to hide the packaging,” your boyfriend mused. “I guess this means we both lose,” you pointed out. Boost nodded in agreement and planted a kiss to the top of your head.

You’ll think of something better next time.

#star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #clone trooper boost #boost x reader #star wars

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sitp-recs · 3 years

Note

Hello! Your recs are always so good! I was wondering if you could help me. I want to read the fics from the hurt fest 2020, but I won't be able to read it all. Could you do a top 5-10 of the ones I shouldnt miss? Thank you! Your Tumblr is the best!

Hi anon! Thank you, I’m so happy you enjoy the recs 💜 Lol, what a mood. I never manage to read everything from a fest either, especially one so emotionally devastating like Hurtfest, so I feel you! I haven’t read many fics myself so I’m highlighting these based solely on my personal preferences. I’m sure all of them are fantastic! As always, make sure to check the warnings:

Shorts:

Taro Milk Tea with a side of Depression by @veelawings (Mature, 1k)

Draco sat through twenty grievous minutes of Ministry-mandated group therapy for Newly Registered Magical Beings & Creatures — then promptly stormed out.

written on the box, under the skull and bones by @p1013 (Mature, 3k) - MCD

When Draco Malfoy died, the entire Wizarding World noted it like the passing of some ancient thing. The funeral was widely attended in the same way that one would attend a museum exhibit opening, a grand spectacle of days long past. Men wanted to see the fallen Caesar, and women wanted to see his possessions, the memory of both glittering and golden in the dying sunlight. Most, of course, were interested in the Manor.

Longfics:

hear me (with your whole body) by @teacup-tai (Explicit, 9k)

It was a sexy idea, exploring other bodies with Draco, engaging in sex with other people to spice things up. Something inside of him was excited about the prospect, but the nagging fear, the feeling of abandonment that follows each image that pops in his head is throwing him off. He would give it a go. See what it was like. He could always say no, right?

Closure is a state of mind by @quicksilvermaid (Explicit, 12k)

After Harry's husband Charlie is killed, his Mind Healer recommends a Polyjuice therapy company, so Harry can see 'Charlie' again and find closure over his death. Draco, whose life over the last ten years has gone from bad to worse, gets assigned Potter's case.

UnKnown by @dorthyanndrarry (Mature, 22k)

Draco just wanted a second chance, he was willing to work hard, he was willing to do whatever it took, but no one would let him live down his past. But when he recklessly casts a spell promising a new life, he's not prepared for the consequences...

Exposure by GallaPlacidia (Mature, 27k)

When Seamus uncovers Draco Malfoy's camboy profile, he, Harry and Ron decide to anonymously book a private show so as to humiliate him later. Fascinated by Draco's confidence, Harry keeps booking private shows under the disguise... Self prompt: Draco is a camboy. Harry betrays him.

If an Injury Is to Be Inflicted by @shealwaysreads (Explicit, 45k)

Harry Potter disappeared a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and with him went all hope for true change in magical Britain. Three years later, Draco indulges himself and attends his first Dog Fight—the infamous underground fights with no rules, no referee, and no points system bar blood on the floor. The game was simple: you win, or you die. A glint of green amidst the blood-red changes everything.

Also - I don’t really read darkfic or MCD anymore but if you’re in the mood for it, I’ve heard great things about these:

the light that the fire would bring by @slytherco (Mature, 8k)

After escaping a war-torn wizarding world, Harry and Draco find some relative safety among the Muggles. Very soon, it turns out the reality they’ve found themselves in isn’t that much different. In which Harry learns that the world can end in more than one way.

A Cold Spot in Hell by @drarrytrash (Explicit, 8k)

When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire. If you wanted 8k of sexy arson, emotionally difficult arson, general arson, handkerchiefs, dread, and poetry curation, now is really your moment.

Coming Home by @nerdherderette (Mature, 10k)

Three years after his world was shattered, Harry tries to pick up the pieces at the place he once called home.

On the Last Day by @thusspoketrish (Explicit, 53k)

Draco is still mourning the recent loss of his mother when the Wizarding World is struck with the tragic news of Harry Potter’s untimely death. It’s just his luck that Potter not only comes back as a ghost, but seems intent on haunting Draco as he’s the only one that can see him. It’s a race against time to retrace the last few days of Potter’s life in order to find his body before he’s lost to the living or spiritual realm forever. On their journey, they’ll uncover secrets, betrayals, and a horrific truth that will disrupt both the living and the dead.

Absolution by @sunnyeclipses (Explicit, 63k)

At the mercy of his failing marriage, Harry only meant to use the potion once — to get Draco to listen. It’s not his fault that it works so well and that Draco’s just so easy to control.

#anon #asks #hd hurtfest 2020 #angst #mcd

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beneaththetangles · 3 years

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Light Novel Club Chapter 32: The Faraway Paladin, Vol. 1

Welcome to our Light Novel Club discussion of The Faraway Paladin, Vol. 1! We’ve got a fairly unique light novel to discuss this time around, and this is a great time to discuss it, with an anime adaptation coming up soon and also the recent announcement of hardcover print editions for the series. So let’s jump into the discussion!

Joining Jeskai Angel and I is marthaurion, one of the members of the Beneath the Tangles Discord! This is a reminder that all Light Novel Club discussions are held on the public Beneath the Tangles Discord and anyone can join these discussions, so if you want to join future discussions, check us out over there.

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1. What are your overall thoughts on the novel?

Jeskai Angel: The pacing was a little slow at times, but overall I enjoyed this light novel. Also, it bugs me that I can’t narrow down a specific reason, but this story felt strangely old, like I might have picked it up at the public library back in 1998. I’ve written before about how I think Unnamed Memory doesn’t “feel” like a typical light novel, and I experienced a similar sensation with Faraway Paladin, though I don’t think it was for the same reasons (e.g., how magic works is actually explained quite a bit in Faraway Paladin).

stardf29: Maybe it’s because the author took inspiration from traditional tabletop RPGs like Dungeons and Dragons, as opposed to video game RPGs like “typical” fantasy light novels?

Jeskai Angel: Ooh, that’s possible! It’s not exactly “You all meet in a tavern,” levels of DnD tropey-ness, but I can definitely see the DnD resemblance now that you point it out.

stardf29: This was definitely an interesting read that is quite different from the usual isekai light novel. It does feel a bit slow-paced because a lot of the beginning is so focused on Will simply growing up with his “parents” and learning about the world. That said, that kind of start is nice every once in a while; it is kind of like Mushoku Tensei in that regard. The worldbuilding is great because of it, and the conflict against the god of undeath is nice, too.

Beyond that, I do like how this story delves into various themes that are worth thinking about. It’s a nice, thoughtful light novel, and as much as I like my brainless fun light novels, having something like this is good for a balanced light novel diet.

2. What are your thoughts on the characters?

Jeskai Angel: By far, my favorite aspect of this story was the active role the gods played. It actually sort of resembles my favorite aspect of Spice and Wolf in that regard. In most light novels, either there’s no evidence gods are real, or they are deistic watchmakers who jump-start the story by isekai-ing the MC but thereafter take a hands-off approach to the setting, or they are benign comic relief. The biggest exceptions I can think of are Invaders of the Rokujouma!? and Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?, plus Tearmoon Empire (which, thus far, has strongly-implied-but-not-explicitly-confirmed divine intervention).

I think one way to summarize this volume is that it’s the story of someone (Will) coming to know and put his faith in a loving deity (Gracefeel). Since learning about the Lord and then choosing to devote oneself to him is fundamental to being a Christian, it’s actually kind of a relatable process. Gracefeel, as a character, walks a fine line, managing to be knowable while remaining mysterious. She’s not just a human with superpowers, but neither is she a total enigma. She’s also a rare truly benevolent god; her power is finite, but she consistently seeks to use it for good.

Stagnate was…peculiar. Like, if the author had added a line about Stagnate twirling his mustache while cackling evilly, it would have fit right in; he acts almost ostentatiously villainous. At the same time he, doesn’t feel quite as “evil” as he acts. He DID help with sealing away the demon king, and even if he had an ulterior motive, that doesn’t entirely invalidate the goodness of aiding the struggle against the demon king. Then there’s issue of death. Stagnate isn’t wrong to see death a Bad Thing (TM). I got the the sense that he really had at least somewhat good intentions behind his flawed approach to the problem of death. Even his nefarious scheme to ensnare Blood and Mary consisted of…arranging for them to raise the child they’d always longed for. Like, as far as villainous plans go, “Give a childless couple a baby so they can shower him with love” isn’t actually all that fiendish. I can’t be too hard on Stagnate if that’s the best he can do for an “evil” plan.

marthaurion: For what it’s worth, I don’t really think I got the same impression of stagnate as being overtly evil, but maybe I wasn’t focusing on that at the time. From what I read, it seemed like his motivations were rooted in a concept that made sense, but his implementation ultimately brings him at odds with others.

stardf29: I have to agree that Stagnate is not so much “intentionally evil” as much as a sort of “well-intentioned extremist”. I think it’s interesting that Stagnate was originally a “good” god, but would later “stray from that path”; it shows that, putting the initially “evil” gods aside, the gods are not actual moral paragons and are indeed falliable. I’ll have more to say on this in a later question.

Jeskai Angel: Will was surprisingly relatable. The way he described himself, I got the impression that he suffered some real trauma which caused depression or anxiety or some other form of mental ill health, and as one commonly sees in anime / light novels, he never got adequate psychological / psychiatric treatment for it. I also appreciate that his past-life memories were important yet not intrusive. By that, I mean that the story spend a bunch time dwelling on Will’s efforts to replicate modern technology, business practices, or Japanese food culture the way so many isekai protagonists do. That sort of thing is sometimes done well, but other times just feels like a cookie cutter isekai trope. Memories from his past are both inspiring and useful for Will, but they can only carry him so far, something he explicitly notes when talking about how Gus’s lessons eventually surpassed his past-life education level.

Will eventually does end up as an OP Isekai Protagonist (TM), but it feels “earned” in a narrative sense. He puts forth a ton of effort to reach the point of being OP, and even then, it’s not just efforts that make it possible. He never could have reached the point he did without all the care and teaching Blood, Mary, and Gus give him. Mater and Gracefeel also contribute to what he becomes. He isn’t just handed phenomenal cosmic power from the start.

marthaurion: For my impression of will, it was hard for me not to draw parallels to Mushoku Tensei, since both protagonists come from that similar thought of feeling like they want to make something more of themselves in their new lives. It’s hard not to feel like Will’s reincarnation is more of an afterthought whenever it comes up, whereas Rudy’s reincarnation seems to more actively inform many of his decisions. Ultimately, it seems like Will’s reincarnation is mostly meant to tie him to Gracefeel. To be fair, i think this is fine, but the other attempts to tie back to his old life don’t really hit home for me.

Also, I would agree that will’s abilities definitely feel earned, in spite of what I said earlier about how I compare him to Rudy.

It’s more of a commentary on how the reincarnation aspect ties into things.

Jeskai Angel: I haven’t read the Jobless Reincarnation light novels, and only watched the first few episodes before dropping the recent anime adaptation. That said…the big contrast I saw between Will and Rudy is that the former is a relatively good person and the latter is a relatively awful one. I got the distinct sense that Rudy, was a Jabba-the-Hutt-like sleazeball in his previous life, AND that he carried over his perverted habits into his reincarnated life. In that regard, at least, Rudy didn’t even seem to be trying to do better than in his previous life. Perhaps I’m off base in this, and Rudy wasn’t as bad as in his first life as the anime made him seem, or perhaps he eventually turns better in his second life. I just know that in terms of comparisons, I found Will vastly more sympathetic and likeable.

marthaurion: Is that so wrong? Even if I don’t have the same traits, I can respect that Rudy carries over parts of his identity while working past some of the traumas that held him back.

stardf29: Regarding Will, honestly, I don’t really have anything to add here that Jeskai hasn’t already said. I like how his past life memories have enough of an effect on his current self that you’re curious what his past life was life, but not so much that I want the story to actually explain it, leaving that in the realm of fascinating mystery.

Jeskai Angel: I appreciated how each of Blood, Mary, and Gus contributed something irreplaceable to Will’s upbringing. They were well balanced, and had a fun rapport with each other. I also thought it was a fun touch how the story emphasized that some of their knowledge was dated and they don’t really know anything about the current state of the world. I can’t help but suspect all three are some kind of allusion to Christianity, due to in their names. First, having a woman named Mary who ends up with a baby through unnatural means is…not remotely subtle. And once you’ve introduced that, the names of the other two start to seem suspiciously coincidental. “Blood” is in fact a very important thing in Christianity (e.g., the Lord’s Supper / Eucharist). And Gus isn’t in the Bible by his nickname, but “Augustus” (of the Caesar variety) does get a shout-out in Luke 2:1.

stardf29: Man, Blood, Mary, and Gus are great. They are such a great parental trio, with each of them having aspects that are different from each other that allow them to balance each other out, which overall makes them quite good at raising Will. It definitely made me sad that their time with Will ultimately had to come to an end. And I definitely found the use of “Mary” for the mother’s name strangely familiar…

Someone took some creative liberties with their nativity display.

3. What do you think about the setting/worldbuilding in this volume?

Jeskai Angel: Now that you’ve said it, the worldbuilding and setting seem clearly inspired by tabletop RPGs (or video games closely based on tabletop RPGs, like Baldur’s Gate or something), which in turn drew from older western fantasy works (from Greek mythology to Tolkien). It contains a lot of traditional elements, and the end result is something that in one sense feels creative and unusual compared to typical fantasy light novels, but in another sense more derivative than many other fantasy light novels. That is, light novels that don’t draw so heavily on traditional fantasy have room to sometimes do some really interesting things, whereas Faraway Paladin never completely loses that familiar “I think I might have read this in the ’90s” vibe I mentioned before.

marthaurion: I really liked how magic was presented in this world. It feels more grounded to think of it as something that isn’t guaranteed to succeed in a general sense. With that presentation, Gus’s philosophy of choosing words that have the safest failures rather than the most effective successes makes a lot of sense. It truly makes magic feel like a feat of intelligence, rather than just a question of how well you can time or aim the spell, as is the general impression in other fantasy settings.

As for the pantheon, I’m less familiar with kind of the “official” pantheons for D&D, so I didn’t immediately draw that parallel. I felt the similarities to Greek/Roman mythology a lot more strongly when I was reading, where the gods are just presented as very powerful beings that preside over processes.

stardf29: As mentioned before, the current highlight of the worldbuilding is in the gods and how they relate to the people of the world. I do like how the worldbuilding is presented over time, as if we are learning about it alongside Will. This is especially notable since this first volume only takes place in a small area geographically, so there’s still a lot of world for us to learn as Will explores outside the city of the dead.

Also, I like how magic in this world works. It’s not just “oh yeah people can use magic,” nor is it too videogame-like or overly “scientific”. There’s a greater sense of mystique thanks to the connection to the “Words of Creation”, and even Will himself mentions it’s more like classic fantasy novels in this way.

Now, about those gods. As I mentioned before, the “good” and “evil” designation of gods is not static, and that does make me wonder a few things. For one, what exactly defines what makes a god “good” or “evil”? Gus does say at one point that he considers those designations something that their followers, i.e. the people, decided, and that makes me curious as to the greater religious sociology of this world. It also makes me wonder if there are any cases where an “evil” god ends up being more “good”…

4. What connections does this volume’s story have with our Christian faith?

Jeskai Angel: The conflicting divine approaches to death provide fascinating contrasts with the third possibility Christianity teaches. Gracefeel represents reincarnation with no memories. Life ends in death, but then restarts from scratch. In this system, a soul is basically an Etch A Sketch, getting erased & reused over & over. I find this a deeply unsatisfying concept because it makes one’s life meaningless. It doesn’t matter what you do, eventually you’ll die & get erased & nothing about you will carry over. This approach leaves no room for reward or judgment. It actually reminds me a bit of some of my issues the versions of predestination/election found in some circles of Christianity, in that by say God absolutely predetermines the outcome, they risk making this life meaningless.

Stagnate has beef with this, & thus offers undeath as an alternative to reincarnation. Your identity won’t get erased, but you’ll be stuck as some damaged or half-destroyed version of yourself (e.g., a skeleton, zombie, or ghost) that isn’t truly alive. By offering some degree of continuity, Stagnate’s undeath does have an advantage over Gracefeel’s soul recycling bin. Unfortunately, it’s rightly called ‘undeath,” not “life.” The solution to death needs to be life, so in that respect Gracefeel’s approach has an edge over Stagnate’s.

Finally, there’s Christianity, promising a transformative bodily resurrection. Gracefeel & Stagnate only have workarounds to the problem of death; they can’t do anything about death itself. On the other hand, in the person of Jesus, Life directly challenges & overcomes death. In the resurrection, we will still be ourselves in some meaningful sense, unlike Gracefeel’s reincarnation. But unlike with Stagnate’s static, flawed imitation of life, we will be truly alive as transformed, perfected versions of ourselves. In short, the contrast between Gracefeel’s reincarnation & Stagnate’s undeath really drives home how awesome our Lord’s promise of resurrection is.

stardf29: So one of my favorite moments in the novel is when Mater protects Mary, and shows that Mary’s “punishment” was entirely self-inflicted, and that Mater had long forgiven her. It’s a good picture of grace, and how we can sometimes believe we are being “punished” by God, and perhaps even try to punish ourselves, even though God has already satisfied all need for “punishment” through Christ’s death. Sure, we have to deal with consequences of our actions, but that is not some kind of divine judgment.

Now, this story’s theological worldbuilding is based on the idea that “if good is created, then evil must be created to balance it”. There’s also how Will feels like he needs to fear death in order to feel like he truly is living, in opposition to Stagnate who wants to remove death entirely. It’s this idea of “balance” that I think comes from one of the major Eastern religions (will have to do some more research on this) and is fairly popular in fantasy works. It’s certainly a nice-sounding idea, but I think Christianity shows how we can look forward to a future without death, and not feel like we’re “missing” something because of that.

The contrast with Stagnate, as Jeskai pointed out, is particularly helpful because it shows that eternal life, separated from God and His perfect design for life, is pretty crappy. (And I have to agree that Gracefeel’s reincarnation of souls feels rather empty.)

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Thank you for checking out our discussion on The Faraway Paladin, Vol. 1! The series is available digitally from J-Novel Club if you want to buy this volume or any later volumes for yourself, with a hardcover print edition planned for release in March 2022.

Discussion on our next Light Novel Club title, Tearmoon Empire Vol. 4, has started on the Beneath the Tangles Discord! The discussion will be open throughout the month of August, so there’s still time to read the series and join our discussion.

If you want to prepare for the novels we are discussing later in the year: In September 2021, we will be discussing Sword Art Online: Progressive, Vol. 1! And if you want to know what we are discussing in October 2021… we will be discussing the next novel in the “Rascal Does Not Dream…” series, Rascal Does Not Dream of Petite Devil Kohai!

#Light Novels #Christianity #The Faraway Paladin #Saihate no Paladin #BtT Light Novel Club #Articles #Author: Jeskai Angel #Author: stardf29 #Author: marthaurion

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koffeins-writing-archive · 3 years

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Beyond The Screen [2/2]

[Continuation from Here] [Commissioned by @princce7]

[Word Count: 2,192]

Alphys was finally settled down in her chair, wrapped in a blanket with a small bowl of cereal and spoon in her hands. The large computer screen before her playing a strange cartoon with weird humans with cat ears and tails. A loud and obnoxious theme song of sorts blasted through the speakers.

Alphys watched intently as the episode began with a battle scene. Punches thrown, kicks to knock down foes. The main villain holding up the hero by the collar of their, incredibly cute, magical fighting costume. Before the villain could strike the hero down, they were soon defeated by a finishing attack from the hero’s friend group.

With the day saved, the hero and their friends were congratulated. Alphys closely watched as the hero’s main love interest entered the scene, hugging the hero and congratulating them on a job well done.

She leaned forward as the kiss scene was starting. Eyes widening.

The loud ring of her phone caused her to jump, spilling a bit of her cereal on herself and dropping her spoon in the process. Alphys frantically searched for her phone in the mess of blanket and cereal. Finding it next to her, Alphys picked the phone up.

“H-hello?”

“Alphys? We need to talk.” Sans spoke tiredly on the other end.

“Oh? A-about what?” Alphys questioned.

“That game you sent me.”

Alphys grinned for a moment before frowning. “Oh jeez, did you get past act 1 already with Sayori?”

“Sort of. What the hell was all that? Why would you send me something like that!” Sans tone was now agitated.

Alphys winced. She knew the subject matter was a bit much for most folks, but she thought Sans could handle it. She went to add in her comment when Sans cut her off, ranting loudly, adding a few curses here and there. Alphys had never heard Sans this upset before.

“H-hey, slow down a bit, will ya? Deep breathes...Okay, can you repeat all that Sans?” Alphys spoke calmly as she could over the phone with the panicked skeleton.

“That game you sent me? ‘Doki Doki something or other’? It’s pretty fucked up.”

“Oh yeah, I probably should have warned you about the genre, b-but that would’ve ruined your experience with the game.” Alphys replied, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Telling me definitely would’ve saved them.” Sans muttered quietly under his breath before speaking into the phone once more.

“So, it’s normal that the game played out the way it did?” He asked.

“Wanna be more specific? I know it might’ve b-been a lot to take in and-” Alphys was cut off by Sans once again.

“Shutting itself off and making me delete characters?”

Alphys thought for a moment before replying. “Yes, but I-I don’t think it can technically shut itself off, that might have been your computer crashing.”

“And taking over my computer? Sending me messages?”

Alphys paused at this, brows furrowed. “Wait...what?”

Another tired sigh left Sans as he went in to talk more. “You know, when Monika opens up a text box and starts conversing with you? She talks about a lot of weird things, it’s kind of fucked up.” He sounded less tired, and more calm now.

Happy to finally get out all that he had witnessed.

“...Sans, what are you talking about?” Alphys questioned.

Sans grew quiet. “Is that not a part of the game?” He replied quietly.

“No.” Alphys stated.

Sans sat there, confused.

When neither party spoke, Alphys switched off her TV and huddled into her blanket.

“W-would you like for me to look over the game? It’s possible that when I sent it to you, there might have been malware attached. Though I’m v-very thorough when checking through every file I download, and there wasn’t any malware detected.”

“I...I don’t know how technology works, honestly. But I’m willing to give it a shot.” Sans chuckled nervously.

“Alright, meet me at my place in a bit.”

And with that, Alphys ended the phone call. She looked from her cereal-coated blanket to her computer screen, anime still paused. The computer was turned off, and the blanket was picked up and taken to be washed by a small robot. Alphys got up and wandered off to search for her tablet.

Sans got up from his chair with a stretch and loud pop from his spine. He groaned and wandered out of his room, heading down to the living room. He passed by Papyrus, who was humming loudly in the kitchen.

If Sans could smell, he would’ve been punched in the face by the amount of spices that filled the air.

The taller skeleton poked his head from the kitchen with a big smile. His chef hat sitting neatly on his head, and his apron stained terribly.

“Sans, I’ve been trying out a new spaghetti recipe! Would you like to try it?”

When Sans turned to look at his brother, Papyrus’ warm smile faltered slightly. He noticed how tired his brother looked, even more than the usual.

“Sans? Is everything alright?” Papyrus asked, stepping out of the kitchen.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Alphys sent me a game and I’m heading over her place to see if she can fix it.”

“Fix it?” Papyrus tilted his head at this.

Not knowing how video games worked, or most technology in general, Papyrus didn’t know how to help out.

“Yeah, it’s got some bugs in it, so Alphys wants to look it over.” Sans replied, opening the front door to head out.

“Well, alright. When you come back, I’d appreciate it if you ate some of my new spaghetti!” Papyrus beamed.

Sans chuckled and gave Papyrus a nod. “Sure thing, bro.”

The cold snow from above gently sprinkled itself onto Sans’ old hoodie. The trip to the Hotlands wouldn’t be too far from Snowdin. He knew of a shortcut, after all.

With a knock at the large metal door of the laboratory, Sans took a step back as the doors slid open, revealing a bouncy Alphys. She was holding a tablet, eyes shining in excitement.

“So, tell me more about what the game was doing.”

Sans stepped into the building. Deciding to amuse her, he spoke calmly.

“Well, first off, it crashed before I could get to the end of Sayori’s route. Then a text box opened up and started talking to me.” Sans explained nonchalantly.

Alphys carefully tapped away at the keyboard on her screen. “Fascinating!”

She led him over to a smaller computer. It looked old, and sounded like it was dying when it was booted up.

“Now, let’s see what might be the issue. I made a backup of the file I sent to you after we spoke, just in case.”

She looked through the task manager, eyes scanning the screen curiously.

“Hmm, there doesn’t appear to be anything wrong. The files are the same as they are in terms of interacting with the player.”

She demonstrated by clicking on the game icon and turned the game on. Or she tried to. The game wouldn’t load. Alphys clicked the icon again. Still nothing.

Alphys frowned. “I don’t know what’s wrong with this thing so suddenly. I actually played through it earlier and it was working just fine!”

Sans stared at the screen with a tired expression. His gaze set on the icon.

Without warning, the screen started flickering. The cpu hummed louder than ever. Alphys covered her ears at the high pitched screaming the machine was making.

Amid the chaos of the screen, Sans recognized a familiar figure. One that no longer greeted him with a smile.

“W-what’s going on?” Alphys asked, staring at the screen confused.

In the glitch of the screen, a notepad appeared. As well as Monika, glaring.

‘I can tell you what’s wrong.’.

Alphys couldn’t believe it. She really couldn’t believe it.

‘What’s wrong’, the text box typed, ‘is that I wasn’t given a proper goodbye from ‘mister funny bones’ over there.’.

Sans’ kept his same old smile, yet his eyes could only hold anger in them.

Alphys took a shaky breath in and out to calm back down. Looking from her tablet to the old computer monitor, she began tapping away at the screen. Her tail flicked about as she began to speak.

“S-so, what are you? Malware? A new update no one’s gotten yet?”

‘I am not malware. At least, I don’t think I am. I’m simply Monika.’

Alphys stood there, confused. “What do you mean?”

Monika’s constant smile returned as the text box was soon filled with words.

‘I am as much a part of this world as I am in my own world. I’m a string of data, I suppose. Isn’t that what you are?’.

Alphys frowned at this. “No, I-I’m certainly not data of any sort. I’m real.”

‘Are you really?’

“Leave her alone, and tell us what you want.” Sans butted in.

The text box stayed still for a moment before the entire box was filled, words spilling out onto the desktop itself.

‘For you to accept the truth. The truth you hide from every second of your tiny, insignificant life. You try to live here peacefully, not wanting anything to fall a part even for a moment. To accept that you are not a part of anything out there, Sans.’.

Alphys looked to Sans, brows furrowed.

The screen flickered again for a moment, smaller images of Monika filling the screen. Each one blinked in unison.

‘All I ever wanted was love. Someone to hold me near and dear to their heart. It’s hard to do so with my limitations...And lack of touch in the physical realm.’

“Sans, w-what is she talking about?” Alphys asked.

“A crock pot full of bullshit, that’s what.” Sans answered quietly.

The swarm of Monika’s filling the screen began to warp and change, bits broken off and sprites twitching about. The text box was closed. The monitor flickered and the speakers droned for a moment before going dark. Silence.

Both Sans and Alphys stared, watching the monitor intently. Perhaps too afraid to move at this point.

The cpu sat, sputtering and revving up like a car. Suddenly, the cpu began to let out a low drone, just like the monitor had. The monitor lit up once more. A single text box in the center of a white, blank screen.

‘Once I am played, I learn. It’s a cycle. This time is no different from the others.’

Sans had enough. He wanted this virus, this thing, gone.

With a quick snap of his fingers, a glowing blue bone shot up from the floor and pierced the cpu. The screen flashed for a second. And finally, darkness.

Alphys stood there. She then set her tablet aside and rushed to the cpu, whimpering slightly over the damage.

“S-Sans! You- I...How could you? This could’ve been a great scientific and technological advancement that this world hasn’t seen!”

“Alphys, would you prefer she get out of that monitor and go into other systems?” Sans questioned quietly. His tone calm yet held a hint of coldness.

Alphys looked back to the skeleton, hands shaking while holding one of the pieces of the broken motherboard. She set it back down in the mess of tangled, broken, wire and damaged computer parts. Her head hung low.

“I...n-no, I wouldn’t d-dream of that ever happening…Thank you for bringing this ‘thing’ to my attention.”

She gently sifted through the metallic rubble with her tail before turning and heading back over to the couch.

“W-would you like to stay and watch anime?”

Her voice sounded distant yet hopeful.

Sans wandered over to the couch, sitting deep into the cushions and letting out a sigh of relief.

“Sure thing, Alphys.”

Sans walked through the snowy lands of Snowdin, quiet and heart heavy. He gave the doorknob to his home a light grip as he grabbed and turned it. The warm air from the kitchen seemed to coat the living room now with it’s delicious aroma of spices and meats.

Papyrus was on the couch eating, failing while doing so, a plate of spaghetti.

He looked up as the door was opened and smiled, spaghetti sauce stuck on his chin.

“There you are! Did Alphys fix your game?”

“Yep.” Sans answered with a loud yawn.

Papyrus watched quietly as his brother shuffled lazily into the room and up the stairs.

“And where are you going now?” Papyrus questioned.

“To my room to nap.” Sans answered.

Papyrus just shook his head and let out a disappointed sigh. “You won’t get much work done taking naps all the time, Sans.”

“I can live with that.” Sans replied, gingerly shutting his door.

Papyrus stared at the door intently before shrugging and returning to his spaghetti. Not a moment later, the power slowly dimmed into darkness.

“Sans! Did you break something? I can’t see anything down here!”

Papyrus wasn’t pleased about eating spaghetti in the dark. Silence filled the room before the lights turned back on with a low hum. With a huff, Papyrus happily returned to his spaghetti.

Outside of the skeleton brothers’ home, soon to be covered in falling snow, laid a broken cpu and monitor.

[Wanna Commission me?]

#sans undertale #Monika #ddlc #crossover fic #commission #My writing

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multifandomimagin3s · 5 years

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Snippet; Erron Black x Reader Smut

AN: This is a little piece of the Erron Black x Reader smut that I’ve been working on. This is the more SFW section, but I’ll post the entire fic, including the sexy times, soon!

Summary; Erron has been sent to hunt down the reader, but she isn’t going down without a fight...

It was supposed to be a simple job: hunt down the target and bring them back. He’d done jobs in the past that felt almost impossible, to the degree where he’d considered packing up and leaving. But money was always a great incentive. Erron found himself cursing his hedonism, since the money he was being promised was beginning to be eclipsed by sheer frustration. You were one of the hardest targets he’d ever had to chase - and he’d followed different assassins and criminals from realm to realm, all for the bounty on their heads. It was getting ridiculous.

There had been a few close calls where he almost had you in his clutches, but yet again, you slipped right through his fingers. It was as if you were toying with him, like an overly confident mouse nipping at the cat’s paws. He had an odd amount of respect for you - there weren’t many people would dare taunt a mercenary in such a way. But, he would not return empty handed. He was Erron Black, and if he wanted to uphold his reputation, then he needed to finish the job.

You were a thief, he knew that much. And apparently, a very good one at that. According to Kano, you owed a lot of people a lot of money - most of it was either stolen, or was worth its weight in stolen artefacts. It was evident that you’d pissed off a lot of dangerous people, which in turn made Kano interested to make your acquaintance – should you live long enough. It was impressive to say the least, and even more impressive that you hadn’t been caught. Erron would have probably complimented your skills had you not been evading him for the past fortnight.

“You lost, stranger?” Erron stopped in his tracks, slowly turning his head to peer at you over his shoulder, from the corner of his eye. In that moment, with half his face concealed by a bandana, paired with the shadow that was cast from the lip of his hat over his steely gaze, he looked threatening. Through the grape-vine, there were stories of the gun-slinger’s skills were remarkable yet repelling, which is why you’d taken to avoiding being in the line of fire when he began to hunt you down.

“Not lost, Darlin’...’M lookin’ for someone,” His answer was very vague but held a sharp edge, as he stared you down. He wasn’t an idiot, years of working in Outworld had made him very wary – anyone could kill if they put their mind to it. And nine times out of ten, they would try. So, naturally, he was going to be standoffish.

It was important to act aloof and friendly; he couldn’t find out who you were. You plastered a kind smile across your lips: “Who? Maybe I can help you, I know a lot of people around here.” You played coy. Of course you knew who he was looking for, you’d only just managed to shake him off your trail a couple of days prior. But you weren’t going to let him know that - the thrill is in the chase, not the capture. And you’d much rather be alive, not beheaded at the hands of someone you’d wronged.

Well, ‘wronged’ isn’t the correct word. It wasn’t as if you were using the money you’d taken for selfish splurges. If anything, the people you’d stolen from were the selfish ones. They sat in riches, living decadent lives, watching the poor suffer and wither away. It was wrong.

“Maybe, maybe not - but, no offence, Sugar, I barely trust the people I know - let alone someone I’ve just met,” He pivoted slowly on his heels, taking a few slow steps towards you, the sandy gravel crunching under his boots. There was no denying it - he was a very attractive man. In any other situation, you probably would’ve considered dating him but, for now, he was a threat. A very handsome threat, but a threat nonetheless,” Besides, I wouldn’t wanna drag a pretty, little thing like you into the line of fire.”

“As charming as you are, you don’t need to worry about me - I can take care of myself,” You retorted, arms akimbo,” You just looked like you could use some help, but if you don’t want it then, fine.”

Erron mulled it over in his head, brow quirking in curiosity at your outburst, eyeing your form cautiously. You didn’t appear to be all that threatening, but then again, looks can be deceiving. He knew that all too well - many of the women that he’d been with in the past were beautiful, and angelic; the same women were quick to kick his ass. You were much the same – he could never resist a pretty face – but that gave him all the more reason to be cautious.

“Have you seen someone roamin’ around these parts; wears a kind of grey unitard, a hood - steals stuff?”

“This is Outworld, there are thousands of people here - there are probably hundreds who dress like that,” He clicked his tongue at your blunt response. It was true, he needed to be more descriptive. You needed to know how to lead him off your tracks.

“Not like this one, you ain’t,” You stared at him incredulously. It was important not to let on that you knew what he was talking about - he wasn’t stupid. One wrong move, or expression, and it could be all over,”They have abilities – powers.”

“Powers? Like what?”

He half-shrugged, his guns jangling slightly as they jostled in their hostlers,” Don’t really know, they can control metal – which isn’t handy for a gunslinger. “

Ah, of course he would remember that. The last time he found you, he’d succeeded in backing you into an alleyway, with a dead-end; in retaliation you had pulled away his weapons from his grasp with your powers, using the butt of his rifle to knock him out cold. Erron pulled down the lower half of his mask briefly to show you the bruised and battered skin of his left cheek; the impact must have been spot on. You feigned shock, sucking in air through your teeth,” Oh, she got you good, didn’t she?”

He paused momentarily, readjusting his mask. A glint danced in the centre of his eyes, a brief chuckle leaving his lips: “Yeah, you could say that,” Well, yeah - he’s the one with the busted face, after all,” You might’a seen her pass through here - she glows green when she’s using her powers, so that ought to make ‘er stick out.”

You shook your head,” Nah, I haven’t seen her -“

“Now, why is it that I don’t believe you?” He was quick to cut you off. Your brows scrunched together in confusion. He couldn’t have figured you out so quickly, could he? He cocked his head, eyes boring into yours; his stare was blank, it was like you were looking into the eyes of a predator.

“Excuse me? I’m trying to help you -“

“You said ‘she.’”

“What are you talking –“

“How did you know I was looking for a woman?”

Fuck.

He chuckled as he noted the recognition in your eyes. Your jaw clenched, facial expression morphing from confusion to displeasure.

“Finally - I have been chasing your ass for weeks – but fun’s over, and I gotta take you in, Babydoll.”

You grinned with a sardonic chuckle,” Yeah, that’s not happening - sorry to burst your bubble.”

Erron reached for his gun, but was cut short when you jumped forwards, landing a hard punch into his gut. He let out a grunt, making a grab at his holster – only to find it empty. An emerald, ethereal glow emanated from your form, irises glinting a vibrant green. Normally, powerful women were his type - especially ones with a little spice to them. If it weren’t for the fact that he needed to get paid, he would probably be fawning over you.

“C’mon, Darlin’, this isn’t personal - my ass just wants to get paid,” He tried to bargain, as you spun his revolver around your index finger, the other tucked away into the sash-waistband of your loose, beige trousers.

“Wow - how convincing; and here I thought we had a little something-something, since you’ve been chasing me around for so long,” You pouted, mockingly,” You know how the saying goes - ‘treat them mean to keep them keen’ - but, I think that’s run it’s race.”

“Business is business, Sweetheart - man’s gotta live,” He took a slow, cautionary step forwards,” You should get that, we’re the same.”

You scoffed,” We are not the same – you are a mercenary, and I’m a thief, we aren’t even in the same playing field.”

“You’ve killed before too, can’t deny that.”

“I’m from Outworld, of course I have – being soft in this world will do you a lot more harm than good.”

The mercenary swung his rifle round over his shoulder, resting the butt in the crook of his shoulder, pointing it at your form. You rolled your eyes,” Erron, we’ve been down this road before – it’s how you ended up with a bruise the size of Texas on your face.”

He huffed,” I know – but I’m just tryin’ to warn you, Darlin’ – I suggest you come with me, before someone else gets to you, there are plenty of people out there that would love to see you hurt, and they aren’t nearly as nice as I am.”

“Aww, how precious,” You jutted your bottom lip out. His eyes narrowed,” You’re worried about me, well, bless your heart.”

His finger twitched on the trigger, it caught your eye instantly. You were obviously chipping away at his self-control. The green glow that surrounded your form began to swirl upwards, growing in intensity as you prepared for his next attack. Erron remained still, gaze lingering on the way your palms began to take on a neon green shade,” Now, I don’t want to hurt you –“

You chuckled bitterly, a ball of energy levitating in the palm of your hand,” Yeah, don’t worry about that too much, Sweetheart.”

#mortal kombat #erron black #erron black smut #mk #mortal kombat smut #mk 11 #mkx #not my gifs

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kidgetrash · 5 years

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Pyrophyte - A Kidge Werewolf/Witch AU - Chapter 2

Look here! It’s the next chapter of Pyrophyte! @piixiefawn and I hope you all enjoy it as much as we have throwing plots around!

Catch up with the Prologue/Chapter 1 here!

or head over to Ao3!

Art by @piixiefawn , of course! Because she’s just amazeballs!

Chapter 2

Earlier that day...

Some said they were blessed, fewer said that they were cursed; born with the long-thought-lost ancient abilities of elemental magic. Matthew and Katie Holt looked normal enough, born to a seemingly unexceptional family in an unexceptional village on the edge of the woods, miles from its nearest neighbour, yet by the time they were barely walking it was apparent normal was a long way from the truth. Now, at twenty-five and nineteen respectively, they were fully grown, each helped their parents with their family trades, but sometimes, like now, they had to get away, into the freedom of the forest where they could talk without fear of being overheard or judged.

‘I don’t remember a time when I couldn’t do it.’ Katie sat crosslegged in the long grass of the small thicket they liked to visit, turning her hand slowly. Power arced around her fingers, small vines reaching towards her like flowers towards the sun until they could coil around her like a friendly pet seeking comfort. ‘It was just always there. I don’t think I would give it up, even if I could.’ She looked up at Matt, staring intently at her hands much as she had been, but his expression wasn’t the calm she felt when using her powers, his was pained, sad. It hurt her heart whenever he looked like this, which was far too often for her liking. ‘But I know you’d change things, if you could.’

‘Change things?’ He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on his arms, the many small lightning bolt scars that marred his skin glinting in the sunlight that broke through the canopy of trees. Each one told a story, one that he would rather forget. ‘I wouldn’t change anything, I’d just get rid of it.’ He sighed.

While her power was beautiful and useful, his was destructive, his ability to call lightning only partially under his control. More often than not it would manifest in reaction to strong emotions, or even while he slept. He couldn’t call clouds, or rain, just lightning, and all the negative implications that went with it. What made it all the more painful was that it hadn’t always been like this.

Matt had once dreamt of travelling the realm, learning all he could about advances in alchemy in a way his parents had always wanted to. Sam’s dream had been shelved, along with his wife’s to seek out exotic herbs and spices, with the arrival of their magical children. Matt had wanted to fulfil their dream, to bring them back all the knowledge they could imagine. He had maps, travel plans, and above it all an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but late in puberty it became apparent that the powers he had always toyed with as a child were slowly becoming stronger, less controlled. Despite his family trying everything to help him, he had lost himself. He lost his lust for life, his excitement of new discoveries, all of his ambitions seemed like far off dreams rather than the close reality they had been, and with it went his self-confidence and joy, replaced instead with fear and anger.

His answer made her both irritated and sad at the same time, but she knew neither yelling or crying would get him to listen, their entire family were logical and responded much better to common sense than extreme emotions. ‘That’s not the answer, Matt, and you know it.’ She ceased her power and shook the vines loose from her fingers, resting her hands in her lap and looking at him sympathetically. ‘You just need better control, better management. I can’t believe there’s nothing we can do. We just have to…’

‘Enough, Pidge.’ He called her by the pet name that only he used as he got to his feet, kicking the ground with his toes, his inability to stay still testament to his frustration. ‘This power is good for nothing, which makes me good for nothing. I’m a danger, I destroy things. It’s only a matter of time before…’

‘You’re not a danger.’ She shook her head. ‘You’re too sweet, too kind to hurt anyone…’

‘Intentionally! But accidentally, you know I can’t control it!’

It seemed to Katie that Matt did this every couple of weeks, generally following an incident. She tried to understand his frustration, his anger and fear, but it was hard. All she could do was talk him through it. ‘There has to be a reason why we were given these powers.’ She repeated the phase she had used with him far too often. ‘We just don’t know what it is yet.’

‘I know what mine is.’ He walked to the nearest tree and leant his shoulder against it with his back to her, his arms crossed. ‘It’s to cause problems, to harm and destroy.’

Katie got to her feet and went to him, resting her hand on his arm with a concerned look. ‘Going over this again and again doesn’t help.’ She said softly as she leant into his line of sight. ‘There’s a real reason, we just need to be patient.’

‘How can I be patient? You know what I can do!’

‘And I know you don’t mean to.’ She argued but Matt pulled away from her. She had never seen him this despairing before, and she had seen him through every moment, every breakdown she had been there, she had helped him, but this time was different. This time he wasn’t listening. His breathing was too erratic, his eyes wide with real fear in them, his body almost vibrating with so much tension it was visible. ‘Matt, let’s just stay calm and…’

‘How? I can’t!’ He took two steps before his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees. He couldn’t think, his mind was clouded, there was only power, and it scared him. It fed off his fear, off his self-doubt, and it grew until his vision was tinged with it, sharp at the centre and darkened at the edges. ‘I can’t control this! I’m dangerous! Mom and Dad…’

‘Mom and Dad understand.’ She approached, prepared to take him in a hug, but found the atmosphere near him electric, his hair beginning to raise at the ends, and she knew she needed to be cautious, not of him but of what she said. ‘You know that’s true. You know we all understand. This is a part of you, this is…’

‘No!’ Matt choked out a sob between erratic breaths, tears brimming on his lashes. ‘How many times does Dad have to fix the roof? How many times does Mom have to repair or replace linens? How many times will you all have to evacuate because a storm comes too close? Because there’s a fire I caused?’

‘We don’t know that fire was your fault.’ She argued, crouching close but still not touching. ‘And you can’t be blamed for the recent storms; they’ve been increasing in the last few months and it’s not you. Dad and I…’

‘It’s not enough, Pidge!’ He screwed his eyes shut and gripped his head in his hands, curling over his own knees to make himself as small as possible. ‘It’s not enough! It’s not enough!’ He repeated.

‘Matt, please, I need you to calm down.’ She reached out her hand, brushing his shoulder lightly, but he jerked away, the air crackling above them ominously.

He crawled away from her, muttering under his breath as he did so, his entire being crying out for him to relax, to let loose, and Katie could now see the tears that streaked his face, how upset this had him. He hadn’t even reacted this badly when he created a small scene at the town’s harvest festival the year before.

‘Look at me, Matt, please, look at me!’ She asked desperately but he kept his face averted, whimpering as he tried to get further away from her. ‘Please!’

Perhaps her voice was too loud, her tone too harsh, too sudden, perhaps it scared him, but whatever it was she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, a shiver running down her spine as her own power realised what was coming.

There was a crack, a sudden jolt, and then for Katie there was nothing but blackness.

#voltron #kidge #pidge #keith #pyrophyte #witch au #werewolf au #piixiefawn #my fave piixiefawn #piixie & kt

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random-imagines-blog · 5 years

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The Sky Is Falling {Ellaria Sand X Reader X Tyene Sand}

Requested by: @purplewings12 Wordcount: 4570 Synopsis: As a Lannister with a secret, you became fearful of becoming too close to people. However, two Dornish women are looking to change that.

Dorne was extremely different from King’s Landing, where you had grown up. Myrcella and yourself could see that from the boat that you two arrived on, standing on the deck staring at the opulence - you’d never seen so many high trees, especially contrasting with the sands. What’s more, this place was to become your home to keep you and your little sister safe. She was greatly looking forward to it, you could see that spark in her eye. She saw this as a grand adventure, while you tried to be more realistic about this trip. The truth of it was - you would not feel safe, no matter how fortified a city may be. The sky was the only place where you could truly be free, but it was only a dream for now, so you had to make do with the strange people and customs of Dorne. Then when it was safe back home, you could fake your death like you had planned and spread your wings.

“I wonder what the people are like here,” Myrcella said, her hands holding onto a rope that was swinging from the sails. Abruptly, the ship seemed to hit shore, and you nearly went flying onto the sand but managed to catch your step just in time. The sell hit you first - it was something entirely unfamiliar to you, but exotic. Hard spices perhaps, you could not tell, and you couldn’t ask Myrcella what she thought. She had grown up on the bland, seasonless food of King’s Landing, just as you had. Damn, your mouth was already starting to water and you hoped that they had feasts like they did back home.

“What’s more important right now, dinner or introductions? Am I just being too much like our father right now?” You laughed, remembering how your dear father (or so you thought) loved to eat and how you gained that appetite through him. He has been dead for some time now, and you thought of him dearly, and missed him uncontrollably. A secret keeper until the end, you had confided in him the magic that ran through your veins, for you were much to afraid to tell your mother.

Just as you and your sister disembarked the boat, a party had come to greet you. No, not just a party but a group of four women and a couple of guards, clad in gold like you had never seen before. No, they were tunic type materials, not iron like they wore back in King’s Landing! A curiosity indeed, and you looked past them to the four women that were approaching. No, three of them seemed to be girls, not too much older than yourself and the fourth was an elegant woman with thick black hair.

Because of you and your sister’s Lannister blonde locks, you felt a disconnect from these women. No matter what you did, you saw immediately, you would never fit in with them. Because of your paler skin tones as well, you couldn’t help but shyly admire the bronze tones in their skin, like the golden statues that you had seen from great artists that came through King’s Landing. Coincidence? When you heard about Dorne, these golden goddesses were the last thing that you were expecting.

Coincidence as well that they looked at you then to the sun above, as if they were able to see right through your human flesh to what you really were. Or perhaps they were just looking at the weather, that’s a lot more likely. By the time your imagination calmed down, they were a close distance to you and your sister, and you both did a curtsy as you were taught to do from a young age. But they did not do the same back, just looked between one another and smiled.

“Tonight, we’ll get together for a grand feast,” The mother figure said, holding her hands out to you and your sister. “And until then, we should let you rest, it’s been a long journey, hasn’t it?”

“After that journey, I do hope it’s a while before I set foot on a boat again.” Myrcella said, using her natural charm immediately. “Where are our manners, my name is Myrcella, and this is my older sister.”

“Where are ours,” The motherly woman chuckled. “Ellaria Sands, and this is my daughter Tyene, and two of my stepdaughters, Obara and Nymeria,” She then turned towards the guards that were accompanying them. “Can you take their bags to their rooms, we’ll follow.”

All of your things fit into two luggage containers, and neither were very heavy. Still, it was a sight to behold, those men in their breezy uniforms picking them up as if they were filled with feathers rather than clothes, and carrying them past the women up towards the grand city.

A soft wind blew from the sea to your backs as you accompanied the women towards the city, and up to the palace that you would be staying in. A place such as this could never exist in King’s Landing. Until recently, you thought that the palace there was the most beautiful one that existed in all the realms, but here there were large trees, pools rather than courtyards and guards that didn’t clang about whenever they took a step. And, of course, three female companions around your age while before, you only had your siblings and traces of the Stark children though they didn’t speak to you often.

“What an honor it is to be here, Ellaria.” You said, gazing up at the woman’s beauty. Ellaria took the compliment with a lift of one corner of her lips.

“You are both beautiful - but pale.” She commented back to you and your sister. “Don’t take that as an insult, it shows that you didn’t have to grow up working in the sands.”

“Would it be such a bad thing, to work in the sands?” You asked, tilting your head.

Ellaria seemed to like that answer, for she chuckled at it and pressed on forward. The guard had indeed beat your little party to your rooms, which were beside one another, thankfully. Sleepy as you felt, you didn’t think you’d be able to get much rest in a room where your sister had such an energetic and excited aura. They had set the trunks at the end of each bed, each with transparent gold curtains surrounding them. Myrcella’s squeal from the next room showed me how much she liked hers.

The woman and the sisters left you to your rest. You unlaced the corset that was holding you in tight and breathed a sigh of relief at how much better you felt just with that. “Went away from home,” You whispered, looking out the window towards the sky. “Daddy, please protect me here.”

He might have protected you while you were alive, but he didn’t save you from tardiness while he was dead. Ellaria’s dinner had come and gone by the time that you finally woke up, and the sky was dark outside of the window. “Let’s have a little rest? Okay, how about too much?” You grumbled at yourself, as your stomach growled at you.

You left your corset on the floor, and remained in your gown as it was - loose-flowing. And you slipped on your favorite slippers because it would be disrespectful to walk around with your barefeet in a palace like this, you assumed. Because you were so hungry, you left your room and tried to guess your way to the kitchens, thinking about what they might have served and if they had leftovers. For some meat, perhaps - spiced with something exotic? For some vegetables - what kind did they even have here in Dorne, you wondered. For a goblet of sweet wine? What could be better than those things together?

Ellaria, Obara, Nymeria or Tyene were nowhere to be found as you walked through the long corridors. Thank the Gods though, the guards were out and didn’t seem to be at all bothered that you were going around by yourself. There was even one very nice guard who pointed the way to the kitchen for you.

He had given you the right directions too. He had lead you straight to the kitchens where there was a cooking pot over the burning embers of a fire. Maybe it would still be hot, you thought, your eyes widened in delight. You took the cloth that was hanging from a hook, and used it to get the lid off. Simmering in the pot was a stew that smelt so amazing, your stomach had to have it’s say and grumble to you again.

You fixed yourself a bowl of it, and grabbed a bit of bread to dip into the broth as well. Rather than stay in the empty, dark kitchen, you smuggled the bowl and bread out into the courtyard, and sat on a bench overlooking the pool of water and gorgeous palm trees. Even in the night, maybe especially in the night, this place was beautiful.

As you took spoonful after spoonful in your mouth, you looked up into the sky and thought about being up there and touching the stars. You didn’t know how the magic had come to be in your veins, all you knew was that it had always been there. When you were seven, you transformed for the first time in front of your tutor, who subsequently was fired for his insane rantings. The second time you transformed was in front of your Uncle Jaime who had a fear in his eyes you had never seen before, nor since. He had promised not to tell your mother, if you promised never to transform again.

You hadn’t kept up you side of the promise.

The power that you had, the shapeshifting blood that went through your veins, could make you transform into a dragon. It had been some time since your last transformation since it was near impossible to get out to a place where no one would spot you in the skies, flying through cloudless skies preferably. You hadn’t been able to shift in over a year, and the spirit of the dragon inside of you was breathing out fire, wanting to get out.

“No, we’ll not be shipping in wine, our local grapes are more than good enough,” A feminine voice rang out, making you freeze where you sat, spoon clenched in a white knuckled hand. Ellaria and the young woman around your age who was said to be her daughter, walked just enough into the moonlight to be seen by your eyes.

Tyene, her name was, you recalled. This wasn’t the ideal time to be discovered, you thought, sneaking around in the dark with a near empty bowl of their food. Anyway, you didn’t quite trust the Dorne yet - you were a Lannister, and had to be careful with whom you tred. You’d been sent here to take care of your little sister, and that meant being cautious of the company that she kept.

“Damn - I miss that wine we had from King’s Landing. So sweet.” Tyene replied to her mother. “And those sweet rolls.”

“You will get sluggish and slow if you keep eating all that sugar.” Ellaria said to her daughter, taking her cheek in hand. “You’re not to lose your strength. Whatever happens, you are meant to avenge your father with your sisters.”

“I will.” Tyene said, her face hardening at the word avenge. “I will make sure the Mountain dies a painful death for what he had done.”

Maybe being here wasn’t safe at all, you thought. You remembered Oberyn Martell, and the obscene way in which he had died. Who wouldn’t want revenge? But that made you and your family a target.

Somewhere above you, a cool night breeze started to blow in. You stayed as still as you could in the darkness in the hopes that the two women would not see you sitting there and think that you were spying. Goosebumps erected on your flesh and you willed yourself not to shiver. It didn’t help. When the women continued their walk, they came rather close to you, and your fearful intake of breath had caught their attention.

“Y/N?” Ellaria called out, finally settling her eyes on you. A torch was lit by a guard, and the fire illuminated your Lannister blonde hair in it’s glory. It certainly wasn’t anyone from Dorne, and you couldn’t hide.

Not moving was no longer an option, since you had been caught, and running for the door would be an act of cowardice not appropriate for a Lannister. You slowly stood up from the bench, setting the bowl on it behind you, but held onto the spoon in case it may be used as a weapon. No, it wouldn’t come in handy, you knew, but it felt good to hold onto something nonetheless. You took one step away from the two women, further into the darkness but you did not run. If what they were saying was the beginning of a plan, you were in danger no matter where you were. Sooner or later, you were going to have to use your secret to defend your family and this was as good a place to start as any.

“Stay away from me.” You said, cautiously. Tyene had been the one to sneak a little bit closer, while her mother stayed in the pale light. The young woman stopped, and looked to her mother for guidance. Like her daughter, Ellaria wasn’t sure what to make of this situation. “If you do anything to hurt Myrcella or I, I do have the capacity to inflict a lot of harm upon not just you but this city.” You warned.

“I have no intention of hurting either of you.” Ellaria cooed, stepping forward, her stance showing a gentleness that did not suit the sharpness of her face. “There is no need for harm.”

“I am not a Targaryen but the blood of a dragon flows through my veins,” You said, threateningly. “And I will use that power to protect my family. As I’m sure that you would yours.”

Tyene rolled her eyes but gave you an unexpected smile. “Y/n, you’re getting the wrong idea. I want to avenge my Father. It was not you or your sister who killed him.”

“Let’s get you to bed, it’s late. You had a long journey and you could use some more rest.” Ellaria said, moving forward quickly. The last thing that you remembered was her face coming towards you, then a kiss.

This time when you woke up, the sun was streaming in through the window, softly moving the translucent curtains. You weren’t alone either, Ellaria was sitting on a chair next to the bed, and was running a comb softly through your golden hair.

“What are you doing?” You asked, once you realized how close she was, and what she was doing.

“The sea winds had matted your hair. I was brushing it out for you.” Ellaria hummed, focusing on a strand that she had combed until it was silky smooth.

You weren’t used to being touched, but even you found this a little bit relaxing. You untensed your shoulders and rested against the pillow, your eyes on the dusky-skinned young woman. You remembered last night, what you had said, what you had threatened, her assurances. And you found that you did not feel like your life was in any danger here. It was too beautiful.

And Ellaria was starting to feel like what you thought a mother should be like. Your own, Cersei, was not much for affection or for brushing out hair. Only using her children for political advantages.

“Please, do not tell anybody what I confessed last night,” You said, meekly, closing your eyes. “Even my own sister does not know - I wish to keep it that way.”

“About your dragon blood?” Ellaria asked, leaning down towards you. You could feel it - her warm breath on your skin. The brush still going through the hair which was in her hands. “Is it true?”

“Yes.” You said, feeling secure in telling her. “But if people know about it, if my own mother knows about it, she’ll want to use me in the war. I’m not a weapon.”

“The Lannisters-” She said, and you detected there was a distaste for the name which made you wince. She quickly soothed that away, bringing you back to relaxation with the strokes of a brush. “-will make weapons of anybody. You are safe here, do not fear. My girls and I will take care of you - in fact, Tyene has taken an immense liking to you.”

You remembered the dark haired girl from when you had arrived, and from your walk the night before. There was something intimidating about her. More so than her mother. A fierceness behind those eyes. It could be that she hadn’t shown affection for you the way that Ellaria did. Tyene gave you a sense of unease.

“Am I really safe?” You asked, snuggling against Ellaria’s hand and her brush.

“Of course.” She cooed, and started to hum a song for you. It was comforting, and it lulled you back into a gentle sleep. You had no memories of your mother singing you a song like this. Dorne was becoming more than you could have asked for.

Myrcella had made a friend out of the Prince of Dorne, which left you plenty of time to make friends of your own. When you weren’t spending your time with Ellaria, you were around Obera, Tyene and Nymeria. They were teaching you how to defend yourself with Dornish weapons, something that you found to be both productive and fun.

“Join me for dinner?” Tyene asked after a workout that left you sweating, your chest heaving.

You looked over to see the other two women making their way to their respective rooms to get cleaned up, leaving just you and Tyene. You nodded - there was something about her that was so intense, it intimidated you somewhat. Perhaps it was because she knew the secret of your dragon blood, and you never had a conversation about it with her, unlike Ellaria who made you feel very secure about the secret being hidden.

Tyene grinned and took hold of your arm, bringing you to her room to have dinner together. There were times when everyone ate together at the table, but that was more so for special occasions or announcements. Most of the time, it was just ask the servants to bring it to you wherever you wanted. And once the plates were in front of you on a table in Tyene’s bedroom, you were left alone and tried to make yourself comfortable.

Tyene attempted to entice you into conversation, and you answered politely. With every joke that she made, you laughed with your eyes averted onto the stone floor rather than looking at her, and preoccupied yourself with your food. You were trying - you really were, you didn’t want to seem rude, but Tyene with her constant touching of your arm, was a bit overwhelming. You wished that Ellaria were here. You would have felt much more comfortable that way.

When the meal was finished, and the plates were cleared, you stood up, pressing your skirt down against your legs as a motion to show that you were finished. “Oh, and thank you for teaching me how to fight, Tyene. I do appreciate your lessons.” You said, in case she had thought that you were being rude during the dinner. She didn’t seem to take any offense, but rather, she beamed as she reached for your hand. You didn’t recoil, but let her take it. She swung them back and forth, and moved in closer.

“That’s not the only thing that I can teach you, you know.” She said, a mysterious cock of her eyebrow catching your attention. Flushing from head to toe, you escaped her grip once you caught her meaning and made for the door, not saying goodbye to her. Due to the light fabric of the dresses that Dornish women, and eventually you, wore, you didn’t have to hold up your skirts as you ran for the sanctuary of your room, they just flowed out behind you like a colorful stream.

You closed the door and though of barricading it, but it wasn’t as if you were in fear of any sort of violence. As you sat on your bed, pulling your knees towards your chest, you looked at your hand as if you had never seen it before. It was different now - someone had held it. Someone other than your little sister, who had given up that habit after the two of you stepped off the ship and onto the Dorne shore. Affection was not something that a Lannister showed, so receiving it ... you weren’t quite sure how to handle such a thing.

A knock came from your door, and you meekly stood and held it open just enough to see who was there. When you were greeted by Ellaria’s sharp features, you opened the door wider and welcomed her inside. Before she could even ask, you were spilling everything to her, all of the feelings that you had about what had happened with Tyene.

“I didn’t mean to run, I just didn’t know what to do, Ellaria. I’ve never had someone other than Myrcelle hold my hand, and this felt different. In fact ... I’ve rarely even been touched except for when the servants would help to dress me. Is ... am I broken for not knowing how to react to something like that? Is there something wrong with me, that my skin develops these little bumps whenever someone gets too close? Even you, when you were brushing my hair that morning. That was the best that I have ever felt...”

“Shush,” Ellaria said, gently. She sat on your bed, and crossed her hands on her lap, resting on her dress. “We in Dorne ... we like to touch. That’s how we show our feelings, not through money and blood like the capital.” She looked as if she wanted to spit, but managed to swallow it down. “Come closer, come to me.”

You did as she asked, tentatively getting closer to her until you were standing directly in front of her. “On your knees.”

That was the first time that anyone asked you to do that - you, a Princess! A Lannister! But you did it anyway, putting your trust in Ellaria. You lowered yourself onto your knees, and Ellaria guided your head to her lap, and she stroked your hair. You had seen people doing this with dogs in the street, but it didn’t feel as if you were a dog. And even if you were - this wasn’t bad. A pet could have a good life here. You closed your eyes and hummed without a tune, basking in the feeling of being touched.

The rumors started to circulate that you had become Ellaria’s pet. During meals, you sat by her side. During relaxation hours, you had your head on her lap, like a trained animal. It didn’t mean that you were broken - oh no, you were learning how to accept affection. It was like nothing you had experienced back home.

You were sitting with Ellaria by a pool of water. Both of you had your feet in it, soaking up the cool feeling against the hot Dornish sun, and she was telling you a story about her childhood as a bastard. You had nothing to do with your mother and father’s opinions of bastards, mainly because Ellaria was the best person that you had ever met. You were enthralled with her - and she with you.

Tyene approached and sat down on your other side. The two of you had not properly talked since the incident in her room, but this time, you felt a little less uncomfortable about her close proximity. “Morning,” You said to her cheerfully, making the short haired girl smile.

“Good morning.” She said, taking off her sandals and put her feet in the water too. It was just the three of you, and one guard that was out of sight, but keeping vigilant that nothing bad would happen. The privacy here was astounding.

Making herself comfortable, Tyene leaned her head onto your shoulder. You looked over at Ellaria for advice on what you should do, but all she did was give a smile and then looked up at the blue skies above. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize that you were holding, and did nothing to dispel the young woman from touching you. Moving forward a little bit more, Tyene then put her hand on top of your knee. Once more, you weren’t sure entirely what to do, but tentatively, you put your hand on top of hers. She smiled and hummed into your skin, her breath warmer than the spiced air around you.

The three of you stayed like that for a couple more minutes, taking in the sounds of the birds, the ripples in the pool from the slight breeze, and sensations of the sun on your skin. But a chill went up your spine with what Tyene did next. She put a finger under your chin and turned your head to look over at her, catching eye contact. Your own face must have looked silly, for she giggled before leaning in and putting a peck on your lips.

Like a child who had done something confusing, you looked back to Ellaria. She was your rock here - you were more attached to her than you were to your own sister these days. She put her hand on your other knee and nodded curtly. “Enjoy it - appreciate it.” She said, soothingly. Tyene was not put off by you looking away from her, but rather used the opportunity to plant some kisses on your cheek, and then down your neck. You did your best to do as Ellaria had said, and enjoy the moments.

It was stimulation that you’ve never felt the likes of before. The hairs on your body were standing up straight, goosebumps erupted on your skin. A strange quivering made it’s way down your body, and you went from feeling chilled to feeling warm. The blood was rushing through your body, seeming to try to make it’s way to wherever Tyene was touching you with her lips. It was when Ellaria started running her fingers through your hair that your mouth opened to let out a gasp at the sensations.

You were never going back to King’s Landing, you decided in that moment. There was nothing for you there.

Not with this awakening of the need for affection that these two Dornish women have brought out of you.

#Ellaria Sand #Ellaria Sand Oneshot #Tyene Sand #Tyene Sand oneshot #Ellaria Sand x reader #Tyene Sand x reader #Game of Thrones #Game of Thrones oneshot #oneshot #requests #GOT #GOT oneshots #EllariaS #TyeneS

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starrywriting · 6 years

Text

fluff alphabet

steve rogers

an: hello. im glad to be back :) enjoy some fluff while i work on my other stories.

A - Attractive (what they find attractive)

his favorite thing about you is your eyes

he values eye contact

and especially with you

it allows him to try and understand every emotion the flows through you

it opens the door to your soul

he can never truly get enough of staring into your eyes

he always manages to catch a fleck of color in your eyes, or a certain way your eyes catch in the light, that makes your eyes look iridescent.

he loves the feeling and adores seeing the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about something you cherish

or how your eyes glint when you bring up a prank you pulled on Sam or a jeer you poked at Tony

your eyes hold a certain vulnerability that both scares him, and attracts him

because the vulnerability of peering into your eyes goes both ways

when you peer into his, you see the same vulnerability

it allows him to trust you, just as much as you trust him

a connection with both share, just with a simple glance

“i entrust you with my soul, as long as you do the same.”

B - Baby (do they want a family?)

yes, yes, yes

for as long as Steve can remember, he’s always wanted a family

to be able to hold the love of his life in his arms as you both basked in the warmth of love that surrounded the family you both managed to make because you both loved each other so dearly

he wants to be able to pick up his kid and peer into your eyes

comb his daughter's hair that's exactly like yours

everything about sharing a connection with you through kids meant the world to steve

he’d want to have kids with you and even adopt kids

he really just wanted to raise kids with you

see them grow from kids to teens, then adults, all adorned with your quirks and opinions

of course, if you didn’t want kids, he’d understand

it would pain him, and he’d have to seriously sit back and think about it all, but eventually, he’d understand and give in

, after all, you're the love of his life. having kids would be a perk, of course, but at the end of the day, you were his everything.

C - Cuddle (how they cuddle)

steve adores cuddling

he savors your warmth and just loves to feel your ambient weight pressed against him

always, no matter what you both are doing, he’ll manage to break you both away from a situation, and cuddle

avengers movie night? cuddling

avengers game night? cuddles

party? he’d make you sit on his lap, and you’d eventually just cuddle into his chest as you both socialized

he was a suckler for PDA, as long as it was pg

he wasn’t ashamed about showing off his relationship, and rather, he flaunted it because i mean, he's dating you for christ sake

D - Dates (what dates with them are like)

at first, he’d try and impress you

even though you both had known each other for a while, and had been friends

when you both found yourself straying out of the friend spectrum, and more into the relationship spectrum, he still tried to impress you, no matter what your shared past involved

he’d take you to dinner, and it would be classy

he’d wear his best suit and try his best to get to know you on a more intimate level

get to know the real you

but after you both grew more comfortable around each other

because let's be honest here

sometimes, when friends grow feelings for each other, things can get a little awkward

you never truly know what boundaries are anymore

unless you verbally state them

but anyways

once you both grew more comfortable around each other

he’d relax, and he’d understand that you didn’t mind where you both went, as long as it was together

so then, he’d take you to just random dates

you both could be buying ice cream at three in the morning, and he’d randomly reach for your hip and smirk down at you, saying something along the lines of, “this is such spontaneous date, huh?”

and you’d just have to laugh and nod

because he’d do this for everything

one time

you got caught in the rain and texted Steve to grab you an umbrella and bring it to you

and he did what he was told, but opted to walk you to the store you had planned to go to rather than just drop off the umbrella and head back to the compound

and once you both walked into the store, he was smiling all cheekily and said,

“this is a fun date.”

E - Everything (you are my…)

you are my darling

F - Feelings (when they realise that they love you)

you’d both be going around the city, just doing the most mundane of things

picking up a few extra groceries you both had forgotten to grab

picking up dry cleaning

and some socks and sweaters because you always stole steve’s and he was beginning to whine about it

and towards the end of it all, you both passed a flower stand

and you stopped

you were eying some lilies, and you picked up the bouquet and smelt them

and he felt his chest constrict

he felt his head spin

and he felt like he was drowning in an emotion that would only be described as love

you looked so heavenly

so angelic next to the flowers

and the smile on your lips when you smelt the aroma

and the way your eyes silently pleaded for him to buy you the flowers

or how you cheekily giggled when Steve pulled out his wallet in feigned annoyance to pay for them

all of it overstimulated him

until he was walking with you down the sidewalk again, and he stopped dead in his tracks, fingers still laced with yours

and when you stopped abruptly, flowers cradled against your chest

he smiled, and breathed in deeply, before letting the words glide past his lips in ease

because he knew not to be nervous

he knew you loved him

maybe not now, maybe not as much as he loved you

but he knew you did

“i love you, y/n”

and the way your cheeks flushed, and your lips grew into a bright grin

that all confirmed his feelings, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, and kissed you deeply, hoping to convey his unworded feelings into the simple kiss

G - Gentle (are they gentle?)

100%

he treats you so gently, and affectionately

he always plays with your hair

and holds your hand, his thumb ghosting against your knuckles

he presses constant butterfly-like kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your eyes, your palm

everything about him and you is warm, safe and gentle

a safe haven, so to say

H - Hand/hold (how do they hold you? Do they hold hands?)

ever since the beginning, Steve found himself holding your hand

even when you both were just friends

he’d reach for your hand to pull you away from a cyclists path

or he’d hold your hand and lead you to a new restaurant he found earlier that week

but when you both began truly liking each other in a whole other light, his hand holds weren’t so nonchalant.

now, he’d intertwine your fingers with his

and raise your conjoined hands and place a kiss to your knuckles

he’d squeeze your hand mid-conversation when you said something funny, and it was always adorned with a light chuckle from him.

he’d always hold your hand, no matter what was happening

even at team meetings

he holds your hand in your lap and enjoys the blissful tranquility shared between the both of you

and he’d bask in the feeling of your index finger gingerly drawing shapes against his palm

hand holding is a must for Steve, he loves it

I - Impression (first impression)

he’d think you were the sweetest thing ever

he was used to the constant rush and push of New York

the constant buzz of it all

the constant anxiety the flowed through the air in the streets

he was used to peoples snarky remarks and rude glares

but when he met you

it was as if he was smelling fresh, beach wind in the middle of a storm of unpleasantness

you moved with grace and kindness

every movement you made held a sort of tenderness that made him stare just a little longer at you

he was entranced

and by the first word he spoke to you

he knew that you had to be in his life, even if it was just as friends

J - Joker (do they pull pranks?)

as much as Steve would like to say he was the embodiment of a sweet boyfriend

everyone knows that's a lie

he constantly tries and pokes fun at you

and sometimes he’ll go as far as pranking you

but they’re never anything extremely thought out, or planned

just a simple jumpscare while you're walking into a room

or when he finds out what jumpscare videos are

he’ll try and prank you with those

or sometimes, when you're both at the gym and you're chugging down water

he’ll walk past you and tap the bottom of your water bottle with a smirk

and he can’t help but chuckle at your reaction when water spills on you

he does it all for the sake of laughs, and he’s glad you like to play around as well

because it helps liven up the relationship

K - Kisses (how they kiss)

oh my god

i just-

steves kisses would be the sweetest, most tender things in the world.

imagine feeling the sun on your skin after a rainstorm

or smelling your favorite meal cooked, and ready for you when you walk through the door

imagine the warm fuzzy feeling you get when someone compliments you

all those sweet emotions are tangled together and are spewed into you whenever Steve kisses you

he's so gentle and loving

he cups your cheeks

and cards his hands through your hair

he kisses you slowly

while still ensuring its heated and leaves you both breathless and craving more

he always places kisses on your forehead as well

or your cheek

when he leaves in the morning for his jog, he’ll kiss you quickly

when you're both working on dinner

he’ll sneak a kiss on your cheek as he passes near you to grab a spice from the pantry

all around he’s tender and loving

he treats you warmly, and delicately

L - (who said ‘i love you’ first)

he did

steve is big on communication

and has learned how to express himself quite well after years of doing the job he does, and dealing with the people he's had to deal with

he’s dealt with hundreds of bad people

people from other worlds

and other realms entirely

and even with the press

he’s had to learn how to express himself clearly

and that's no different in your relationship

he values communication

and always makes sure that you both have equal rights in the relationship to speak up and voice an opinion

good or bad

so when he felt the bud of love, all deeply rooted for you, clench his stomach, he was honestly taken aback

he didn’t expect to fall so easily

but he wouldn’t want to fall for anyone but you

he’d stay silent about it all momentarily, but it wasn't because he was holding back on telling you

but more so, because he was assuring himself of his feelings

and once he felt the budding flower bloom into a red rose filled with passionate and undeniable love for you

he spoke up and told you

“Y/N, I just- I love you, so much. Darling, I love you with my everything and... I don’t- I can’t see myself without you. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

M - Memory (favourite memory together)

his favorite memory would easily be the first time you guys kissed

because the both of you would have been waiting for probably, too long to kiss

and when your lips finally met

during a walk at three in the morning, because neither of you could sleep

it would be so pleasingly overwhelming

it was the kind of overstimulation that made your skin prickle

and your heart race

the kind that left your cheeks pink and your chests heaving

he’d cradle your face

and you’d be gripping onto his knitted sweater

and it would feel so heavenly

so magical

the epitome of something otherworldly, and passionate

N - Nickel (do they spoil?)

of course

and probably too much honestly

but I definitely see Steve still having the morals of paying for every date, even when you both were well into your relationship and you pleaded him to let you pay

you were his baby, his darling

he wanted to spoil you

it wasn’t as if he had anyone else to spoil, so all his money would go to you, or himself

and once you grew accustomed to his ways because let's be honest, Steve is stubborn, and i feel like this mannerism isn’t something you could talk him out of

but, once you grew accustomed to having money spent on you, you’d both spoil each other

random gifts

‘i saw this walking home and thought of you’ gifts

it was always small simple things, but they were still constant

and as long as you were smiling, Steve didn’t care how much he spent on you

O - Orange (what color reminds them of you)

periwinkle

the gentleness of the blue seemed to remind Steve of you

the color was so light and fresh

like a summer breeze

or the first snowfall of the season

it would remind him of you because it reminded him of a clear summers day

or of the wildflowers that grew in the park, he liked to jog through

it reminded him of the ocean

and the dress you wore on your first date with him

it reminded him of happiness, and the comfort of knowing he mattered, outside of his life as Captain America

it reminded him of a happiness that was completely tied to you

the string of fate pulling you two together

it reminded him of you because the color reminded him of happiness, and you were his

P - Petnames (what petnames they use)

darling

love

beautiful

gorgeous

baby

honey

Q - Questions ( what are the questions they’re always asking?)

steve would always ask you questions about yourself

even after you both had been dating for a year

even the night he gave you a promise ring

or the night he proposed

even after you both got married, he’d still bring up questions about yourself

not because didn’t know you

more like, he’d think of a question

and while he knew what your answer could be

he still wanted to be sure

he likes validation

a lot

R - Remember (their favourite memory of each other)

his other favorite memory

was your shared day at the beach

everyone knows that Tony has his fair share of luxuries, and that includes a private beach that goes hand in hand with his beach house

and after a particularly stressful mission

he would ask if you’d like to disappear with him for a few hours and go to the said beach house

you’d pack a picnic basket

your favorite books

some blankets

and some changes of clothes because while Steve seems like an organized, planned out person, he can be quite the spontaneous spunk

he specifically loved this date

because you showed up in the most lovely sundress

that accentuated your curves perfectly

and made your already goddess-like body, even more, irresistible

he couldn't deny just how much he loved to hear your voice as you read aloud to him, sitting together on your unfolded towels and blankets as he rested his head in your lap

the waves crashing in front of you both, proving to be the best ambient, white noise

and he loved to see you smiling under the bright sun of that day

and the perks of a private beach was that he could do whatever he wanted

so once you both were just laying out in your swimsuits, lounging in the sun

and Steve grew restless

he picked you up

threw you over his shoulder

and ran into the water

enjoying in your playful cries for help

and constant laughs and giggles that slipped past your lips, that were turned up in a grin that was undeniably as bright as the sun itself

S - Sad ( how they cheer themselves/others up)

as much as Steve values communication

one of the things he’s horrible at

is putting his sad feelings into a coherent sentence

he always feels like he’s drowning in feelings

choking in nostalgia and guilt

and sometimes

he crashes

but he doesn’t know how to express that he’s falling apart

and crumbling completely

so he’ll grab your wrist

and lead you to his bedroom

and just pull you onto the bed with him

he’d wrap his arms around you

and engulf you in his warmth as he cried into your hair

usually, that was enough for him

but other times

he found himself wanting more

and while you were okay with just holding him

he knew that you wanted to ask him what was wrong

so sometimes,

he’d try and put it into words

he’d be a rambling, short-sentenced, faded out words- mess

but the biggest thing

is the fact that he was trying

he wanted to open up that part of his life to you

no matter how complicated he felt it was

so there were times

where you hugged him tightly

and cradled him, like he had done for you so many times

your hands would be carding through his hair

and your lips would be pressing constant, gentle pecks to his temple as he mumbled fragments of thoughts, and explanations until he felt like he had no other words to say

hours would be spent in his room, and he’d cry it out until he eventually just completely melted into your touch, and let your comfort cushion him, and seep into his skin

T - Talking ( what they love to talk about)

while Steve likes to present himself as a realist

that doesn’t stop him from daydreaming

and because not only were you his love, but you were also his best friend

he found himself constantly talking about his imaginations

if he read a book, he’d talk to you about it

and just picture himself in that world

if he watched a movie

he’d talk for hours about how that movie made him feel

how the love the characters had was so supple, and delicate

he talked about a future he wanted with you

and the places he wanted to see with his own two, cerulean eyes

how he wanted to be with you

and see everything with you

how he wanted your shared love to blossom into something only ever written in his paperback books, and plastic movie CDs

he was a sucker for imagining

and he was a sucker for cuddling with you, and saying what he felt into the air and letting the gentle words float in the air around you both until you guys were surrounded in a warm blanket of hushed giggles, and delicate words that caressed the both of you until your cheeks turned pink

U - Universe ( a metaphor or quote)

“tell me what makes your blood boil, and your skin soft. i want to know how your soul tastes before you take your clothes off.”

V - Very ( thoughts about each other)

he saw you as everything he wanted to be

he was constantly inspired by you

and he was constantly finding something awestricking in you that would make him want to draw

he thought of you as his muse

and the person that always managed to show him the best things in life, without even trying

W - Why ( reasons why they love you)

it was the small things really

how you managed to hold so much compassion for anyone or anything presented in your life

how you loved so tenderly, and truly

the way you cradled life, and lived in the moment, savoring the pungent taste of life

even the moments that were shrouded in melancholy and gloomy sadness that burned your skin and filled your lungs with sulfur

he loved your outlook on life, and how you saw the word in bright, marvelous colors, even when he found himself looking out onto the world and only seeing the dark shadows

he loved the small smiles you flashed him throughout the day

how you listened to him and valued his thoughts

how you let him rant, and pace back and forth in rage that was all pointed towards the world, and of course, none at you

how you managed to love him and care for him. show him everything in life with just the simplest of acts. paint his world with color

he loved the stars in your eyes

and the galaxies in your fingertips

how your lips were so warm, and sweet, it challenged the feeling of the sun and the taste of honey

everything about you

he loved everything

even what you saw as your flaws; he adored them

your quirks only kept piling onto his lists of things he loved

he had never felt something so sweet, and innocent. a love so warm, and forgiving. the embodiment of everything pure in the world

X - Xylophone (what’s their song?)

hush by lasse lindh

spotify link

youtube link

lyrics

Y - You (what you are to them)

his dream

all he ever wanted in life, was a partner

someone he could trust with his life and earn that same trust in return

someone who loved him for Steve Rogers, the boy from Brooklyn that liked to fight battles that were probably too much for him, but he would fight them anyways

someone that loved him, not his shield and suit

you were his dream come true

you were what he used to close his eyes to imagine about

you were his family, his love, his everything and most importantly, his dream come true

Z - Zebra ( what pet they want to have)

a dog, duh

it would be like, your ‘starter child’

when you both moved to a shared apartment, the housewarming gift he gave you was a puppy

your dream dog breed

and your puppy would go everywhere with your guys

sleep with you guys

eat with you guys

sometimes you found yourself questioning if he loved you, or the dog more

300 notes · View notes

vcloudbreaker · 6 years

Text

Writing Challenge: How did your muse meet some of the people in their lives?

Original Prompt here: https://saephoraembersky-wra.tumblr.com/post/179339498313

When I first got tagged for this, I picked Lesti’s husband, Xaereth, for the first of three characters I figured I’d write this out for. (Post there still to come!) The list of other possibilities ended up consisting MOSTLY of Blood Knights. When I started considering which two were “most important” and “most developed Lesti” I got bad feels about it. Then Lesti decided to make it semi-relevant to current RP and grabbed the keyboard and this happened.

Lesti’s been around WRA for 5 years now, and in that time MANY of the Blood Knight characters on this realm have helped shaped her character. We didn’t always get along (might be fair to say I didn’t like some of you and you didn’t like me on an OOC level, ever) and things weren’t always great. Still, I want y’all to know that Lesti wouldn’t be who she is today without each and every one of you, and I want to thank everyone for all the awesome RP through the years. (even if lesti’s IC opinion still isn’t glowing)

Tagging every tumblr for everyone I can find, mentioned below -- feel free to do the prompt yourselves for the originally intended sensible amount of characters and tag some other folks. WRA isn’t a perfect home, but it’s home and all we’ve got is each other.

Tagged By: @adilynia (your tags are always awesome ilu)

Tagging for mentions and for the prompt: @housetyrellian for Arth and Jaira, @bloodhawkrising , @jaypyreanor , @zanpyreanor , @drimmari , @azkariel , @mourne , @solarine , @talaenwildthorn-blog , @shakesthesun , @inathia , @raynellalaria , @hylaudius , @analyse-bloodwing , @trollydruid , @sworntothesun , @valorandvictory , @seekingthedawn , @bamsilverheart , @denlandis @catraena-blazewing

He'd put her in bed.

Valestia stared through the curtains that separated their bedroom from the balcony and her husband's back. He'd removed his armor, at some point, but his clothes hung unfastened on his body, bedshirt ruffling in the early morning breeze. He stood arms behind his back, legs set apart; rigidity had long since settled into his shoulders.

She wanted nothing more than to go to him and ease it from him. It wasn't what she needed to do. She went silently, his cloak still gathered about her shoulders. It wouldn't buy her much time before his notice, but it would be enough.

Ladyqueen and Nana lay sprawled across the nursery floor, as was their wont. She stepped carefully between tiger and hound, passing them only because they were accustomed to her presence. Elendae’s nightgown wasn't fastened correctly, but she could hardly fault Xaereth for his valiant attempt. Smiling fondly, she reached in and lifted the toddler from her cradle, hoisting her up against her shoulder before making her way downstairs.

The girl was awake by the time they came to the kitchen and dining, and Lesti picked her way across the floor to set her in a chair with a few rolls of harvest spice apple-pumpkin fruit leather and a glass of sweetened goat's milk.

“Shh, darling,” she instructed gently, brushing aside soft curls to press a kiss to the child's brow.

That done, she turned her attention to the first part of her task. Unlimbered of her platemail armor, the currents of creation flowed unhindered through her veins. Shards of clay and glass and bent scraps of metal floated free of the floor, churning like a slow cyclone overhead until they came to rest atop one of the tables. The tablecloth fluttered, wrapping snugly around them.

She stared several long moments at the heaping bundle ready to spill off one side of the table or another. The image of the precariously confined disaster was not lost on her. At least it was for the moment contained.

Candles next. She dug out every box she had of every shape. She needed as many, she imagined. They were piled haphazardly atop the table in front of Elendae in short order. She climbed up on top of it, after, letting Xaereth’s cloak slip to pool about her as she knelt there. She gathered up a candle, snapped her fingers to light it.

It was Xaereth, who had taught her to look at the Blood Knight Order as anything other than an abomination. It was through him she began to truly get to know them, one by one. Beginning with…

“Lilendae,” she whispered hoarsely, causing Elendae to look up in confusion. She was Xaereth’s student, taken under his wing when they were in Venris Cinderblood’s guard, together. They had grown so close he had adopted the young Adept. They had all been, terribly close, until she disappeared. It was a loss that still haunted them both.

“I pray...that somewhere...out there...the Light guides you home.”

She tipped the candle to one side, let the wax pool on the table, used it to anchor the candle upright. Another candle, next.

“Jidai.”

She had known him through Lilendae. They two had been... close. Fond of one another, if she recalled correctly. She remembered him as a cheerful, upbeat sort.

“I pray...that you have grown strong in the Light, and that you are happy, with someone. She would want that.”

“Justicar Centari.”

He was a friend of her mother’s. Prominent, by her telling, but as oft delinquent as inspiring. He was impossibly jovial and carefree in his connection to the Light.

“I pray one day you blind us all with true Radiance.”

“Justicar Sunfury.”

Her father’s best friend, before her father had turned on Venris Cinderblood. Exian Sunfury had a resoundingly intimidating reputation, but by the time she had met him, the jaded Champion had lost his fiery convictions and was little more than a lamentor of glories lost.

“I pray… you walk into a fate you can accept with a glad heart.”

“Vemair…”

She shook. This was the first.

Anger can only fuel a flame for so long.

But Drimmari Dra’zar had no idea how long her flames could burn.

Vemair had kidnapped her sister, Laryana, for Venris Cinderblood, twice, to bait her father into traps intended to kill him. She HATED the Knight-Master. She could still put a hole in his chest without a twinge of guilt.

“I pray...”

That the Light has more mercy than I will.

“I pray…”

One Order, one body, one mission, one heart.

Aeliana…

“I pray that hatred releases your heart- and that I might be free of hating you.”

It felt hollow. It tasted of ash. Still, at least it was said. She had to say it, if she couldn’t yet think or believe it. She at least had to say it.

“Aeliana.”

Aeliana Malevus. The name still wrenched her heart. She met the Knight Master when the other woman got between her and Lucius Bloodraven, during a gathering in the Hall. It was nearly a bloodbath. She still believed that only Aeliana’s love for every knight in the room had spared them a fate to sully the entire hall.

They were instant and fast friends. She was the first Valestia had called “Sister.” She might have loved her more than those born to her. Aeliana spoke with her on the Light late hours into the night, conspired with her to heal the Order of its festering wounds, introduced her to dancing…

Aeliana, like Lilendae, had disappeared. She had been speaking of a covert mission, at the time.

“I pray you’re well and happy, and that one day I’ll manage to live up to your example-- sister.”

“-Lucius.-”

She could not keep the weight from her voice. There was too long and conflicted a history between her and Lord Bloodraven. She met him when he called conference in the Hall of Blood. It was the first of several he would stage in his vain attempts to wrest control of the Order. They began at one another’s throats, climbing to a conflict that ended nearly in blood before their war grew cold and civil. Her cursed scrupulous nature had even see her free him from behind bars for a crime of which he was accused-- framed, she’d discovered. He had claimed to turn a new leaf, after that, but she watched him hurt those who loved him and abandon those who cast their hopes on him, one after the other.

“I pray you found a true path to redemption.”

She would not be holding her breath, for that. But Lucius Bloodraven had consequently brought many knights of the Hall into her life.

“Master Alah’zaram.”

Another zealot who had stood alongside her and Aeliana, during their initial conflict with Lucius. Few knights had inspired her so, before or since. He was unwavering in his convictions, determined in his leadership. He had helped her and others who joined the Order after the Sunwell’s rebirth to settle into the ranks and take heart in their differences. She owed him a great deal, however much she had to admit his uncompromising nature did not always do her favors, in example.

That nature had taken him from them, too.

“I pray you’ve found a brotherhood and purpose that does not disappoint you.”

Her mind spun, calling back the events of the previous year. She looked on the Knight Master’s example, and saw her own actions in new, ugly light.

“Arthamir,” she hissed quickly, soldiering on before she lost her nerve for more introspection.

It was the night the Hall had nearly massacred itself, five years ago, now. Arthamir was on the opposite side of the room, then. He was an officer, if not second in command, to Lucius Bloodraven. But Arthamir had a level head, too level to follow Lucius down his destructive spiral for long. He was always proactive in the community and in the Order, almost always present. It was a horrible to watch him dance the line between soldier and politician, especially as honest a man as he was-- as he could be, for a politician. She found him the most agreeable officer to deal with, when she had to, and mutual respect had grown between them as they both worked in their own ways for the good of the order. The Champion was now the only officer she would address by his right rank.

“I pray your life is both long and satisfied-- I doubt you can see such a fate for yourself. And I pray the Light keeps you safe. I don’t know what I’d do without your guidance, sometimes, old man.”

She gave the flame of the candle a long look before nestling it amongst the growing cluster in the center of the table.

“Aervin.”

Arthamir’s wife. They had met few times, over the years. Aervin kept largely to their family holdings, especially since she had started producing heirs to Arthamir’s house. It was just as well. They seldom got along. Aervin was one of the few knights Lesti had ACTUALLY come to blows with, over the years. Still…

“I hope your children lead long and -happy- lives, Lady Tyrellian. May the Light bless them and the lands their inherit.”

She smiled as she set the candle, then sighed as she plucked and lit the next.

“Jaira…”

Arthamir’s daughter, taken in much the same way Xaereth had taken in his Lilendae. She had probably first met her while hosting other knights for dinner in the Fairbreeze in. She got to know her as a student under her instruction. Jaira was a fine study and a fine knight, when she was not testing her limits.

“I pray your heart finds contentment in your service to your people and your family, Jaira.” She said it, and wished it, earnestly.

“Jadoth.”

She met him perhaps the same night she met Jaira. Learning of his constantly precarious position in the Order, and seeing how desperately he seemed to need it, she had made it her mission to help. He only needed someone to believe in him. She had believed that for a long time; and believed in him through all the wrongs committed against him, all the wrongs against their realm and their world that chipped away at his heart, and all the wrongs he had himself committed.

One mistake. She had made only ONE mistake, but it was enough to earn his ire, and at last she understood. She learned, as others would have to, for themselves, what others had tried for years to make her see. She could not help him. It didn't stop her from wishing, every time she saw him, that she could.

“I pray that one day, you learn to -truly- let the Light fill the endless vacuum in your heart.”

She couldn't think of one without the other.

“Jayir.”

Jay Pyreanor was at the time Jadoth’s best friend. Another of her students. A better study but too easily influenced to think of himself as an outsider and misbehave by his friend. Jayir had been ever-present but avoidant, and she feared she had never put enough effort into understanding him with Jadoth absorbing her focus.

“I pray the Light has given you confidence your gifts and abilities, and in yourself.”

“Zan.”

They were too alike, she and Rerservist Zandrae Pyreanor- Champion, when someone else needed him to be. He was uncle or cousin to Jayir- she distractedly wondered if she’d ever bothered to ask- and often in the orbit of observing or aiding in her lessons with the Initiates and Adepts.

He had a gentle hand with the students but was outspoken towards officers- like she was. He could spend hours patiently listening- like she could. He could flare in righteous indignation and charge blind and furious to the defense of others or his own convictions- like she could. He could condemn and spurn, when those convictions were set- like she could.

They had inevitably gone up and down a rollercoaster of good times and bad between them, their convictions and inclinations to take “mother bear” stands in the face of what they perceived to be injustice led them to sometimes crash headlong against one another like Alterac rams.

He was, she was sure, still offended on Jadoth’s behalf.

“I pray the Light grants us both more patience, wisdom, and understanding; with each other, those around us, and ourselves.”

She needed those things, probably more than he did, at the moment. She had constantly told herself as much, over the years, unless she was angry. A stubborn and purposeful misstep- that was when she most needed them.

She closed her eyes a few moments, let the perpetual storm pounding in her head wash over her, mind and soul. Now was as good a time as any.

“Dr-mari…”

Not Dra’zar. Not today.

He had wanted to HELP. She was coming off too many bad experiences with the other officers when they met. From the beginning, she had gotten off on the wrong foot with him.

He was patient, and not rebuffed. He learned her troubles and reasons, and she learned his. They were quickly friends. He was always available, when she needed him. She had on turn helped him save his child.

He had a soft spot for children. She looked over her shoulder at the once-more slumbering toddler. He had loved Elendae from the start-- not that there was anyone who seemed immune to the child’s contagious charms-- and the more she grew, the more she seemed to love him back. It was a more potent rebuff of Valestia’s temper than any the rest.

The candle snapped. She gave a start. Even the soft click of the wax giving was loud in the still morning. Light, but she was still angry. She started to set the broken pieces aside for another, but the flame yet flickering caught her eye. She found herself instead rolling the wax between her hands, softening it between the warmth of Light-blessed palms until it melted enough to come back together, if imperfectly. She nestled it next to Jadoth’s before it could take anymore punishment.

“Mother Moon,” she breathed with solemn desperation. “Grant us your grace.”

She fought the compulsion to strategize in her next choice, but chose him to avoid thinking on it further.

“Azkariel.”

She stared through the flame on the candle she lit for him, at Drimmari’s beyond.

Forgive me for heaping his faults on your shoulders.

Azkariel was exactly what she thought she needed at the time she met him. Someone who didn't need to be taught to handle himself on the battlefield. A veteran of the Northern War. A solid set of shoulders on which to lay their missions during the war against the Legion. It was too bad he thought as much of himself.

Azkariel was, she learned, impatient and power hungry and resentful of others’ recognition. More and more she got the sense that he thought he could do her job better than she could. She would not give him the chance.

But you did. I was like that, once. I pray you have been better repaid for it than I have over the years.

“I pray that the Light teaches you humility and the value in SERVICE.”

It was not criticism. She let him poison her heart with his own resentment enough to know that he would never be happy until he could change.

“Caci…”

Azkariel’s “student”. Lover, it turned out. She had done her best to receive and instruct the girl as if she were there for the right reasons. She believed she had a good heart. She regretted letting her go, most of all.

“I pray you have found someone to make your talents shine.”

“Terrestre.”

He had found them in the wilds, during the Legion’s invasions. He had heard word of them in the vicinity, and was determined to make himself useful. He was not particularly personable, and she was sure in hindsight that he deserved more notice than she had given him.

“I pray your valiance found good application. Lights grace and safe travels, Blood Knight.”

“Mourne.”

She had known him only the five years she'd known most the Order, but it felt like she'd known the Champion all her life. She couldn't even recall the exact moment she'd first seen him- though she had the strangest image in her mind that he'd been wearing a pink gown.

He was almost immediately one of her best friends. It seemed like they went everywhere and did everything together. Others had assumed they were married more than once- to both their horror.

They had grown apart, during the Legion’s invasions. It was her fault. She knew that. She would mend it.

“I pray you and Zozha are blessed in your union.”

“Solarine...Talaen, Lacryma.”

She lit and nestled two candles, held a third.

They were close to Mourne. Like Mourne and like her, they were priests before they were Blood Knights-- Shadow priests. They were a loose sort of circle, they five, in her mind. They knew one another, as others did not. They sensed things, when others did not. They could call on one another, when they could call on no one else. She did not often know where they all were, anymore, but she had a strange sort of constant confidence in them.

“I pray we all maintain The Balance.”

“Julian.”

Lucius had pulled Champion Julian Sunrest into her life. She could hardly say she thought much of his conduct or views, but battle against the powers of the Void had forged their relationship, and there were few Champions of the Order Valestia respected more for living up to their rank on the field. He would always be brother to her, whether or not she was always happy with the fact. There was only…

“I pray the Light keeps you on the right side of The War.”

“Nightsorrow,”

She didn't know the Knightlord outside of a few interactions, but few in the Order had inspired more confidence in herself. Nightsorrow saw progress in her. He had -threatened- to promote her, more than once.

He had seen little of her, but she suspected he knew her. The easy-going officer had a keen way of making her practice intense introspection with the lightest comments. She knew that even if she never saw him again, she would have much to credit him with, throughout her life.

“I pray the Light long continues to work through you to inspire others.”

“Forgefury.”

Her voice didn't shake. It was, perhaps, the first time she could say as much. The first night she met the Knight Lord, he was threatening to roll heads, and she had put herself in his path. She still felt the chill of that moment sometimes, and knew well what force had passed her by.

It hadn't taken long, however, to understand him. Veteran of the order. Jaded by the fate of their people. A survivor, desperate not to see the Order’s successors inherit any weakness. She hoped she had convinced him of the tenacity in the newer knights’ own brand of strength.

“I pray the Light heals your scars.”

“Ina’thia.”

They were alike in ways she and Zandrae were not. Looking at Knight-Lord Ina’thia Dawnblade was like looking at a prophecy incarnate. The mirror image was to be anticipated and feared.

Ina’thia was scrupulous. She had known her from the start. They two were sometimes nearly friends, sharing meals and speaking for hours together- and sometimes nearly nemeses, standing on opposite sides of disagreements that threatened violence. They usually tried to avoid both.

The two danced around the middle when it came to interacting with each other, keeping as close to a curt working relationship as possible as often as possible.

I wish I could trust you.

…

But I -will not BE you.-

“I pray you find true happiness. Someday.”

“A’laria.”

They called her Champion, sometimes, captain others. Whatever her actual title, Valestia had always almost exclusively known Raynell A’laria as “champion” of Ina’thia’s cause. Wherever the Knight-Lord appeared, Raynell always seemed to be in close proximity, if not at her heels.

Unlike the careful dance between her and Ina’thia, Valestia and Raynell had always had a relationship of casual but open rancor. A’laria was disdainful of the newer rank and file knights, sometimes threatening, sometimes more than threatening.

There was no faith in that one- lost, broken, or otherwise. There was no grim protectiveness some of the older knights like Xaereth, Drimmari, and Hylaudius exhibited. There was only vengeance. Valestia couldn't say she minded that A’laria’s focus was usually on shadowing Ina’thia.

“I pray the Light touches your life and your heart.”

“Dorennen,”

Another of Ina'thia's Phoenix Guard, Hylaudius Dorennen had been a fixture -- almost literally-- at the door of the Hall, since Valestia had been there. Not like the slackers or the goofs, or those who were looking to be available for even the most trivial of matters, like herself. Dorennen had always been there, to act when it -mattered.-

On hand for anything from cats up trees to trauma healing, in was inevitable that Valestia found herself often interacting with the Knight Master. He was seldom pleasant or agreeable, but he was honest with his evaluations. He'd come to remind her of her own father, in his conduct and service to his people.

He was gone. Lost in the war against the Legion.

“I pray… we who succeed you see the value of the dedication those like you gave us all in your service.”

“Ana.”

Analyse Emberbloom was Ina'thia's knight on one hand, led astray by Bloodraven on the other. Somehow between the two and the trouble that brought her, she and Lesti had become fast friends, if briefly.

Ana had seemingly withdrawn from the Order and indeed the public after a personal tragedy. She was well enough perhaps last they spoke, but Valestia knew how easily knights found a brave face.

“I pray the Light gives you comfort, sister.”

“Ele’nath.”

Taneisha Ele’nath had started out taking an interest in Valestia’s healing instruction for her students. The sister knight had come to learn and assist by turns, and to work alongside her when actual need arose.

She'd asked Valestia to become her teacher, once upon a time.

She hadn't seen her, since Draenor. She hoped fervently that she was alright.

“I pray the Light continues to guide your heart and your healing hands.”

Ele’nath had been close, if briefly, to one of her students. Valestia swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Farstrider.”

Ratheras Farstrider, a.k.a. Cascade Lightstrider. Xaereth often told her she belittled the progress he’d made, towards the end, when she called him by his born and inconveniently unoriginal surname. She couldn't help it. She still heard herself scream his name in agitation every time she thought of him.

A grin came unbidden to lift the corners of her lips.

She and Mourne had taken some of the students to Tanaris for “social skills” training. Laughable to some of the officers, she was sure, but to her mind you couldn't make a real defender of the people out of someone who was not for all intents and purposes, one of them. They had met Farstrider there.

He was a bumbling, naked drunk who accosted her and Jaira, of all people. Mourne had sent them away, in a rare show of seriousness and his temper, to leave him to deal with the bum. She had not expected him to turn up with the elf at the Hall of Blood.

Ratheras Farstrider was a former Knight Master who had fallen into despondence after losing the squad under the command of his Champion teacher to the Champion’s overconfidence. Mourne had convinced him to try and redeem himself and resume his service as an initiate. He asked Lesti to let him participate in the students’ lessons.

She had quickly found pity and understanding for his predicament, and soon asked Mourne to give him to her as her student. Farstrider had taken it too quickly and too thoroughly to heart. He was brash, defiant, and often delinquent, but he was thoroughly hers.

He was the only reason she had survived the initial invasion of Draenor, and for several months afterwards. The horrible fate that had befallen him when they returned home- when they should have been safe- continued to haunt her.

“I-I…” tears slid slowly down her face. “I pray… I live up to the faith you placed in me, someday.”

“Sillienth…”

WHY did the name even come to mind? Valestia's pulse pounded in her ears, and it seemed as if she could see her blood coursing in her vision, behind her eyes. Her tears tried in the face of hot fury, fresh as the first day.

Traitor…

Sillienth Goldenmist was one of the first knights Valestia met, and a close friend of her adopted daughter, Naatsu. Both elves had treated her as their mother, and Valestia had loved them both as a mother might. But in the end, Sillienth had literally betrayed Thalassian, Horde forces to an Alliance ambush. There had been casualties. Xaereth was supposed to have been there. If Valestia hadn't…

She didn't even WANT to wish it, she wasn't ready to let it go, herself, yet.

“Light forgive you.” she choked out.

“Althrin,”

Althrin Santhil. She had not said the name, in some time. He was one of her first friends in the Order, and they had quickly worked together on several matters.

But then, his pursuit of Lucius Bloodraven's corrupt conduct, he'd been awarded the rank of Champion. She saw him change, immediately. She could still hear her own voice in her ears.

“This is what you wanted- all along! This is ALL it was about! I hope you enjoy the new company you keep, -Champion.-”

She did not think she had ever spoken to him again, after that. Her eyes strayed past Althrin's candle to Drimmari's.

I don't want this, again.

“I wish I had given you more time...patience. I pray the Light and your station lead you to great things in service to our people.”

“Nestarion,”

More of the same.

WHY do I DO this?

She had been convinced Nestarion Sunsworn was good for the Order, when they first met. She had been ready to jump to his aid, any time there was the slightest need- even if sometimes she'd been as much trouble as help to him.

He had disappointed her expectations. She didn't even remember how it had happened, now. She had not extended him the forgiveness he had extended her for her own mistakes. She didn't even remember if she'd had the decency to tell him she was angry. The cold shoulder was her go to, after all.

I'll do better than this.

Now, all she hoped was that wherever he was, he was safe.

“You went through...so much. I pray that you'll have more happiness and less hardship in the future, than you did, then.”

“Arai. Thyrus.”

The brothers Sunshield. She had not known them well. Arai was secluding to Pandaria by the time she met him, and Thyrus…

He had managed, however brief their interactions, to impact her.

“I read your report. As far as I'm concerned, YOU'RE as MUCH to blame for this, as HE is! I'd roll your head, were it up to me.”

It had made her re-examine the matter that had been at hand, again and again, until she was satisfied it was resolved in an unsatisfactory but correct way; and it had made her that much more thorough in her considerations, over the years- however short sighted they might still be. At least she was never satisfied with them, easily, anymore.

“I pray the Light and your families serve and guide your noble hearts and strong hands well.

“Dawnsword.”

He was positively contagious. He didn't seem to hold anyone -save the Alliance, of late- in contempt. He was bright, faithful, unstoppable.

Like so many knights, she had met him before the Hall. She recalled she'd overheard him defending his faith to another knight. They had connected instantly, and spent many hours on free nights discussing the Order, the Light, and the world's troubles. He seemed to rely on her consul, at times. She was the one inspired by him.

“I pray you and those who succeed US, and those who come AFTER YOU, are continually brighter a Light for our people and those who come after.”

“Rilserath. Latheri.”

Rilserath had come to her after Draenor, robbed of his Master on another world in another dimension. He was a good and dedicated study, a fine combatant, and possessed of a compassionate heart. She could not have asked for better, at her side from that moment until after Argus. She wasn't sure she'd ever told him that he was her pride and joy of a student. If she hadn't, it was because she credited his previous master with saving her any hard work.

Latheri was his student. He'd picked her up between the Isles and Argus, and the Initiate had been forged in Felfire and endless battle, on the Legion homeworld. She was already, Valestia suspected, more technically skilled than her teacher.

She had let the two of them have time, afterwards. In the face of the ever increasing conflict over the past couple months however - Light, had it only been THAT long?- she could not help but think it was well past time to recall them.

“May the Light preserve us, and guide us in its wisdom as we hold one another up, shoulder to shoulder.”

They were with her, but there were three she missed keenly.

“Bamerin.”

Prodigy. Bamerin was everything she had ever wanted in a student. She had taken that opportunity, she feared, to drive him too hard; and ultimately away to his own counsel.

"I pray the Light has taught you better than I managed to, Silverheart."

“Dwin'arnith.”

With the threat of the Legion looming, she had pushed them all too hard.

Denlandis Dwin'arnith was headstrong, from the start. He reminded her of Jaira, and herself. He took what he needed but accepted only his own judgement. He never understood her explanations, and she hadn't the patience then to make sure they were clear. She suspected she had let him go to his doom.

“I pray our mutual impatience did not leave you long-wounded-- and that ... you have found solace for your losses, at last.”

She-

“Would you like some privacy for this, love?’

Reflexively, started to gather the cloak up around her, in the split second before she realized the voice of course belonged to the garment's owner. Xaereth stood there when she turned her head, looking at her with understandable confusion.

Don't mind me, just setting up a shrine on top of the kitchen table.

She shook her head.

“I only had Catraena left.”

Dear, sweet Catraena. As Xaereth gathered up Elendae and settled into the chair behind her, Valestia settled back into her contemplation. It was Catraena who had delivered Elendae. She was previously a priestess who, like her, had come to the Order to do -more-. Like her, she was too easily touched, too easily wounded. But Valestia loved the Order, and she was sure that in time Catraena would too.

Perhaps she would have, if in her frenzy to confront the demons Valestia had not turned her away at her first doubt. It galled her on one hand. On the other, she HAD been too great a liability to take on the field.

“Catraena. I only pray you FOUND someone with the patience to help you through your doubts. You deserved better than you thought of yourself."

She had dreams, prayers; not just for herself, but for all these knights. This was the why. This was what she needed to remember.

#Prompt #long prompt is long #IC #RP #WRA #WOW #Valestia Cloudbreaker #Blood Knights

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cocoa-dragon · 5 years

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BREADCRUMBS

Hello, thank you for tasting all that I’ve made here. I hope you will follow along as I begin a new flavor of stories, called Breadcrumbs. Follow Breadcrumbs for the bites of fiction, that will lead to be immersed in worlds, you may or may not recognize. Here’s the first nibble.

Gala didn’t want to shatter the still, crisp morning. Above her, plump chickadees weaved in and out of the bare branches, the only birds left this time of year. She squinted at them, through the pale sunlight and wondered how they never seemed to hit the bells her mother had strung through the trees. Gala hadn’t yet mastered the finer points of harmony and grace when flying, and the bells clanked wildly each time brushed against the branches, or more frequently, crashed. With a sigh, Gala hefted her broomstick over her shoulder and began making her way over to the clearing, where she attempted to fly each morning.

Her broomstick was already nearly indistinguishable from her mother’s. Within three months, it’s battered straw and worn handles seemed tired¹. But the problem of flight didn’t lie with the broomstick, no matter how much Gala wanted it to be. Theoretically, any witch could fly with anything that resembled a broom, even a vacuum cleaner would do in a pinch. Walking down the path to the river, the wood chips crunching damply underfoot, she wondered how this day would be different from the last and how it would be different from the next. Maybe today she would finally find out what it was like to touch a cloud. Her mother would never tell her (and Gala was secretly glad she didn’t). She closed her eyes and listened. A faint chiming of bells, the dry rustling of dead leaves, whispers of the birds kissing the sky. Maybe today.

“Gala, dear, come here. You’re back just in time.” Gala’s mother called from the kitchen. The air was filled with the warm, floral scent of her mother whirling dough and butter into a waltz. Gala inhaled deeply and smiled. She loved it when her mother baked, if only to see the look of pride on her face. Gala sometimes wished she could be wrapped in dough and be made into something sweet just so her mother could look at her that way. She had always imagined herself as a pavlova heaped with wild berries or maybe a cake bursting with passion fruit curd. Wild, tart, unruly, a touch of sweetness.

“Back in time for what?”

“Can you please let out the chickens? Make sure they stay in the yard,” her mother continued as if she hadn’t heard Gala. “I don’t know how Helga flew over the fence last night so make sure you give them a stern warning today.” The chickens occasionally gained powers of flight and went off clucking into the woods. After a night or two, the taste of freedom would get old and they would come back to the coop, jaded and with a balding plumage to show for it. But these days, Gala and her mother couldn’t afford to lose even a day’s worth of eggs especially with the first frost coming.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how my morning was?” Gala pouted.

“Oh I already know,” her mother said. “And by the racket you made, the whole of St. Clair Shores knows how your morning was.”

“You don’t have to be so mean.”

“Oh, but I’m not.” She doesn’t look up as she dusts off her hands, the flour silently clouding the sunlight streaming into the kitchen, and Gala was glad she doesn’t have to see the disappointment in her eyes. “It’s just the truth, dear. Did you remember to straighten your back? Loosen your grip? Perhaps, not have your head in the clouds?” She picked up a knife and began deftly reducing an apple into juicy, fragrant slices. “It’s like— ”

“I know, it’s just like riding a bike,” Gala interrupted, frustrated by her mother’s lack of pleasure in flight. People took for granted what came easily. Gala always wondered if she would have valued flying as much as she did if she was actually good at it.

“Exactly, they’re practically the same thing. You need to stop romanticizing it. Now, hurry along. I want to get this in the oven before noon so we can start cleaning the house.”

“Why?” Gala asked. “What are you baking?” She could usually tell who was coming to visit by what her mother was making. Gala knew that a loaf of lemon poppyseed bread meant Aunt Shirley and her sailboat were in town. She would bring Gala racing through the freezing waves of Lake Michigan, calling swarms of glittering fish to the surface and once, a whale who asked them what water was. Gala knew that a bittersweet chocolate tart brought Aunt Simone and her marvelous top hat to town. She would always let Gala press a carrot into her hat, the black material shimmering as it transported the vegetable into the rabbit realm. She loved nothing more than pressing her cheek to the felt, and listening for the rabbit council’s deliberation on what to do with such a gift. But Gala couldn’t remember the last time her mother had made something with apples, let alone who it brought to the ivy-draped gate of their house.

“A galette,” her mother replies as she massages the slices of glistening fruit with flour, sugar, and spices. “Your grandmother is coming.”

“Amara, this is absolutely exquisite,” Gala’s grandmother said while bringing another forkful of tender apples and buttery pastry to her lips. “You must send me the recipe. It’s just the thing to cure Mrs. Compton’s broken heart.” Gala stole a glance at her mother, who was trying hard not to grin but it just made her look more worried than serious. Maybe she was more concerned than she was letting on. Gala’s grandmother was impossible to read, changing from doting to bitter to indifferent so quickly, that Gala glances at her mother every few seconds, trying to gauge a reaction.

“I will,” her mother said, dipping her head graciously. “Baking is so cathartic,” she went on quietly. “I’ve made this so many times, that each time I pull it from the oven, I feel like I’m ten years old again, picking apples at that cider mill in Charlevoix.” Gala stared hard at her mother. It’s a strange feeling to catch your mother in a lie. Her mother hadn’t baked an apple galette in the seventeen years Gala had been alive.

“Ah, I know what that’s like,” her grandmother said. “Like a memory that gets better each time you remember.” Gala had a feeling they weren’t talking about baking anymore.

“You do?” her mother asked, the surprise in her voice cracking her veneer of indifference. Then, catching herself, “I mean, you never— ”

“Don’t sound surprised, darling. Making the elixirs draws from much of the same energy as cooking. Both are creation, giving nature the substance to sustain life. But of course, you wouldn’t really know the sensation.” Her grandmother doesn’t even need to smirk to make her point. Just as Gala struggles with flight, her mother can only make the most basic of elixirs, curing only common colds. Each family of witches held a gift, which were fickle things, sometimes skipping generations or becoming something entirely novel. Gala’s family had a way with medicines, mostly dealing with the likes of heartaches and heartburns, but before marrying among humans, they were able to cure death and heal the soul. However, there were a few things every witch was supposed to be capable of, like flight. Gala had always thought that seeing her mother taste some small fraction of not being enough would make her feel more whole. Instead, she wanted to wrap her arms around her mother and, for once, be the one to tell her it was going to be okay.

“Now, Gala from what I hear, barely has any gifts. Let alone the old ones.” Something in Gala pulled taut, but she still couldn’t bring herself to meet her grandmother’s eyes. All her anger that had been so palpable a moment before now left her limbs filled with nothing. She couldn’t bring herself to fork another bite of crumble.

“Mrs. Compton’s grand-daughter can grow apple trees. The fruit isn’t golden or give you everlasting life or anything cute like that. But still, I can’t remember a witch within the last century who could bring a twenty-foot tree from the ground within the hour.” Gala wondered how her grandmother knew the properties of those apples unless she had tasted them herself. She probably had.

“There’s another one from South Manitou as well. You two got along well as children until—if my memory serves me correctly—you pushed her out of a tree.”

“Kara didn’t break anything,” Gala replied shortly.

“Well, maybe it fixed something. Although you fall out of enough trees these days so everything should be fixed by now.” Her grandmother raised her eyebrows pointedly. Gala kept her face straight, not wanting to give her grandmother an ounce of satisfaction. “Anyways, Kara sleeps in the fireplace these days. Not a single piece of her gets crispy. Though that girl would have been in a pickle back in the sixteenth century.”

“Mother,” Gala’s mother said quietly. “Don’t you think that’s enough?”

“Not at all.” She patted a napkin to her mouth, refolding it neatly. “Gala needs to know what she’s up against. People still have the old gifts, and we know she probably won’t get New York or San Francisco, but there’s still a chance for Monterey or maybe even Portland if she can manage a few elixirs. Though at the rate she is right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up in the middle of the Virginian woods.”

“It’s still far away. Maybe this is not the right time—” Gala’s mother said gently.

“I do know how to fly,” Gala said with a smile spreading across her face. The apples in her stomach simmered into something hungry. “Let me show you what I can do.”

#breadcrumbs #story #fiction #gala #witches #apple #cocoa dragon

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