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adore-laur · 6 months

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SUNSTRUCK

— a sensual addition to southpaw 🌞

——

TODOS SANTOS, 1992

Palms slick with saltwater spread atop the surfboard floating in Mexico's turquoise ocean, its waxed surface scorching to the touch as it sparkles underneath the smoldering sun. Heaving himself up with taut and tanned arms, Harry switches out the cool engulfment for a beating heat that strikes his skin just right. Droplets cascade down the toned muscles of his back. Freckles that have come out of hiding dot his face in scattered clusters. The ultraviolet rays of June naturally bleach his tuft baby hairs blond.

He's unequivocally thriving, surrounded by a yellow aura gleaming brilliantly in the daylight.

Lying on his stomach, he manually paddles over to where Sawyer is supine on her pink inflatable raft. With a caramel-colored complexion and slim, silky legs that shimmer from the start of a sun-drenched summer, she resembles a solstitial vision for the ages. She has never looked more relaxed in all the years he's known her for. Her limbs that soak up splashes of Vitamin D are loose and not tense from working stationary hours at her office desk. There's no wrinkled crease of frustration between her eyebrows that needs to be smoothed out, nor is there a troubled frown pulling at her lips that needs to be lifted. She's in her own bubble of iridescent ecstasy.

This hush-hush getaway has rejuvenated their souls. The lush ocean breeze and visually flamboyant architecture lured them like they were a message in a bottle destined for the shoreline. Harry finally has uninterrupted time to spend with Sawyer in private in a nestled town where no one knows his name. Domesticity has already begun blooming in the desert bungalow where they're staying. Whispered confessions of love and gratitude spoken around the rims of coffee mugs. Waking up with her in his snuggly embrace is a luxury he's still getting used to. Kisses followed by wandering hands careen lazy mornings and sleepless nights. Their relationship is flourishing every day, and it feels like paradise.

As Sawyer tans like a sun goddess, Harry grows increasingly bored. The sluggish waves weren't nearly powerful enough to triumphantly catch, so he resorted to catching some rays instead. It didn't pan out too well because now his back is burning, and his girlfriend isn't paying attention to him. It's a deadly combination he needs to fix pronto.

"Sawyer," he says, peskily flicking water at her. "There's a shark behind you."

Opening her pretty brown irises shielded with cat-eye sunglasses, she flips him off and grouses, "You're not funny."

Harry smoothly straddles his surfboard and points past her. "I'm serious. Don't move, okay? I can see its fin circling."

It only takes a single second for her precious face to drop. She timidly shifts her sunglasses to the top of her head and stares at him in terror. "Is there really?" she whispers as if the non-existent shark is eavesdropping on the two lovers. "What do we do, Harry? Oh no, what do we do?"

To not crack a mischievous grin severely tests his might. "I'll grab you and take you to land. Don't worry, baby."

"We can't!" she tells him urgently, her voice rising to a whisper-shout. Thankfully, she doesn't dare turn around to see if they're actually in grave danger. "It'll follow us if we move. We have to be smart about this."

Harry dramatically looks off into the distance like he's in a film playing a determined survivor lost at sea. "If this is the last time we see each other," he declares with faux valor, "I want to die knowing I tried saving you."

Sawyer gawks at his morbid statement. He thought it was romantic. "Are you out of your mind? Don't say things like that!"

There's a slight growl to her tone, and she appears borderline petrified, so he abandons his silly prank. He's close enough to her raft to stretch his body forward and lift her, so he does, but not before humming the menacing Jaws theme and wiggling his fingers in her direction. She looks bewildered as he grips her waist and carefully transfers her to his surfboard. Once she's sat in front of him, he clings to her like a koala on a eucalyptus tree, his perspiring chest pressed flat against her back.

"Hi," he murmurs, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. "There's no shark. I just wanted to be near you."

Sawyer stills, then hastily unwinds his arms from around her. "You're so annoying," she whines, harmlessly slapping his thigh and grabbing her raft so it doesn't drift away.

Harry cups her jaw and tilts her head toward him. "You love me. I annoy the hell out of you, yet you can't get enough of me."

Glancing at his lips, she situates herself in his lap and smiles. "It's true. My sunray makes me happy even when he's a complete ditz."

Harry suddenly doesn't know how to speak, too enraptured by her natural beauty paired with a doe-eyed gaze that melts him like an ice cube on a sizzling driveway. Those brown eyes could get him to do anything she desired. Does she know that? Does she see the influence she has over him? Does she know nothing made sense in his life before he met her?

Unable to express his undying commitment to her without stumbling over his words, he utters a simple and sincere, "I love you."

Sawyer places her hand over his heart. "I know it."

Eventually, the rolling tide brings them back to the shore. The Baja California peninsula's tip possesses powdery sand grains that carry on for miles. This particular beach, Punta Lobos, is a hidden gem, and no tourists infest the area during the week. Rocky bluffs border the water, and the occasional hiker will admire the oceanic view from their advantage point before retreating down the trail behind the cliffs. Other than that, there's no one lurking around and disturbing the peace.

Harry and Sawyer lie side by side, sand sticking to their wet skin as the foamy waves barely reach their toes. Their fingers instinctively interlock, palms smoother due to being immersed in saltwater for hours, and something about it sends a firecracker shooting off in Harry's heart. Sawyer's skin after sunbathing is always gorgeous — golden, silken, and stamped with secret birthmarks only he knows the locations of.

He suddenly feels hot all over. Blazing sunbeams mixed with coursing dopamine are making him antsy. Trying to ignore his straying thoughts only worsens the constriction.

Looking over at his girl, Harry swallows and swipes his thumb across her chin to garner her undivided attention. She squints and beams angelically at him, a sheen of sweat gracing her cheekbones.

"Pretty girl," he says, his knuckles tracing the shape of her jaw. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm thinking about where our next destination should be."

"Nowhere. Let's stay here forever."

Sawyer ruffles his wavy hair. "And do what?"

A thousand scenarios whip around in his brain, and he ends up settling on asking his favorite question. "Wanna make out?"

Her plump lips instantly melt into a blissful smile. She rolls over on top of Harry's body, her syrupy skin adhering to his as she clasps his cheeks with her hands. She grants him his wish, coaxing warm and salty kisses from his mouth. His greedy hands roam the back of her thighs, trailing them up and down her sun-kissed flesh. Her ankles prop up and cross over each other, and she hums into his mouth as their craving kisses deepen. The pendant with his first initial that rests perfectly between her clavicles reminds him she's not going anywhere, as does the ring he gifted her that's settled on her finger, the cool metal neutralizing his flaming body temperature.

The unfortunate cause of their breakaway isn't because their love-filled lungs are deprived of oxygen. It's because, after all, they're on a public beach, and the sound of distant chatter has them pulling apart as quick as a zap of lightning.

Sawyer stands, briskly adjusting her bikini straps and glancing around like what they were doing was a scornful obscenity. She's adorably flustered. On the other hand, Harry sits up and nonchalantly adjusts himself while pinching his swollen bottom lip. He would be lying if he said he hasn't noticed excessive PDA isn't something Sawyer is necessarily comfortable with now that they're dating. She shies away from it, while he's quite the opposite. It's almost impossible to suppress the urge to touch and kiss her like there's no tomorrow, so he doesn't feel awkward about the innocuous disruption.

As he snatches his floral-patterned button-up that he left stranded on the sand and begins putting it back on, he spots his camcorder nearby. He brought it along to capture memories, which so far have mostly been of Sawyer in her feminine element—sunbathing on the poolside lounge chair with a magazine in her lap, curling her eyelashes in the bathroom mirror, dancing and singing to "Venus" by Bananarama on the bungalow sofa.

She's the center of his universe. The summit of beauty and love.

His gaze flits between the device and Sawyer, who is now red in the face. It's amusing, so he brings the viewfinder up to his eye and presses the record button. He purses his lips to hide his growing smirk as he zooms in on the small group of people strolling to the coastline and then on her rattled reaction.

It doesn't take long for her to notice. She jogs over to block the lens with her hands, fretting, "Stop it! This is so humiliating."

Harry laughs, lifting the camcorder to a height she can't reach. Sawyer is looking at him unimpressed, her arms crossed, and her head tilted to the side. The people most definitely saw them being handsy and smitten out in the open, but what's there to be sheepish about? Love is meant to be shown to the world.

"Are you embarrassed?" he teases, dragging out the last word.

She raises her eyebrows and nods. A hint of a smile plays at her lips, but it doesn't seem genuine. It appears insistent, one of hidden discomfort.

Harry isn't a total space cadet, so he takes it as a cue to quit messing around and acknowledge her unspoken signals. He stops recording and drops the camera in the striped beach bag slung over her shoulder. He then tucks his surfboard under his armpit and offers Sawyer his free hand. The energy between them has shifted by a smidge, and he doesn't like it one bit. The grains of sand beneath his soles have somehow turned into eggshells within minutes.

"Ready to leave?" he asks. Sawyer nods again, still ominously silent, as she ignores his hand and fetches her deflating raft. "'Kay. Let's hit the road, then."

They arrive at the rental car, a vintage orange convertible that made his pockets hurt. Sawyer wanted it, and he couldn't refuse her. The hood is up in case of unpredictable weather, so Harry straps and fastens his surfboard to the top while Sawyer hops in the passenger seat, throws her raft in the backseat, and shimmies back into her daisy dukes.

Harry sits behind the steering wheel, his lanky limbs struggling to comfortably fit in the restricted space. The engine rumbles to life when he turns the key in the ignition, and he rolls the windows down before reversing out of the vacant parking lot. He peeks at Sawyer a few times as he merges onto the highway winding along the coast. She's staring at the desert landscape ahead that's saturated with a golden haze from the forthcoming sunset. Cacti and dead brush sizzle under the evening sun. Mountains tower over the feathery clouds. Vultures circle in the sky as roadrunners scurry along the pavement. It's stark scenery but nonetheless transcendent.

None of his surroundings matter, though, when his favorite person to talk to is overtly ignoring him. He tries to convince himself that maybe she's just tired. No, that can't be right. He knows her. She's affectionate when she hits a wall and cuddles up to him sweetly, clinging to his arm like a sloth on its beloved branch.

The truth is that he messed up.

Before he can dwell on every misstep he took in the past ten minutes, an earsplitting BOOM cuts through the atmosphere, followed by a rapid whooshing sound. Harry firmly clutches the wheel as the vehicle suddenly loses equilibrium. Without outwardly panicking, he takes his foot off the gas pedal and lets the car naturally slow down before pulling it off to the side of the road and braking lightly.

"Shit," he hisses under his breath, heart thumping erratically. "Goddamnit. I think one of the tires just blew out."

Poor Sawyer has her eyes pinched shut and a death grip on his bicep. Harry snaps back to reality and kills the engine, listening for any odd sounds. Before he steps out, he gives the top of Sawyer's head a gentle, comforting noogie and murmurs, "It's okay. We're okay."

She shakily gets out with him and leans against the passenger side door, anxiously biting her polished fingernails while Harry perplexedly settles a hand on his hip and assesses the external damage. The front right tire looks like one of the clocks in Salvador Dalí's The Persistence of Memory — sad, melted, and a surreal depiction of an unfavorable outcome.

He looks up and down the highway, finding no signs of any buildings, vehicles, or humans. Something he does see, however, is a broken beer bottle a couple of yards behind where they were driving a mere minute ago. Most of the shards of green glass are scattered along the edge of the road, yet a few stray pieces are lying in just the right place for any vehicle that comes racing down the highway. It's the perfect puncture for a not-so-perfect boyfriend already on thin ice. Karma must have a vendetta against him today, but he won't let it clip his wings. When life gives him lemons, he knows how to make a delectable pitcher of lemonade.

So, Harry does what he's best at: distracting his girlfriend. He can quickly turn this misfortune into something fun and make Sawyer forget about how sour the day has turned.

Swiping his sweaty forehead with his wrist, he huffs and gets to work. He's changed a few tires in his life, so it should be done in no time. First, he takes his shirt off so he doesn't get heatstroke. The humidity outside is brutal, causing sweat to bead by his hairline and on his back. He makes a show of slowly unbuttoning it and slinging the fabric over his shoulder. It's obvious Sawyer's gaze is locked on him. He's willing to admit he possesses vanity over his physicality, and it doesn't help that the girl watching him constantly feeds his ego.

Next, Harry takes his sweet time and saunters to the trunk, where the rental agency told him the spare tire is located. Lifting the trunk and flexing his arms, he opens the well to reveal the tire. There's also a jack and lug wrench that'll come in handy.

After gathering everything, he kneels on the blistering road, loosens the tire's lug nuts with the wrench, and then places the jack under the vehicle's frame. He stretches his arms above his head before using the jack to slightly lift the car off the ground. After removing the lug nuts, he removes the ruined tire, momentarily glancing at Sawyer as he breathes heavily from his body's exertion in the unbearable heat. She's in front of the car now, looking at the sunset that paints elegant splashes of pink and orange across the horizon.

Harry grunts as he tosses the tire aside. Sawyer glances back, and he doesn't miss how her eyes flick down to his abdomen, now slick with a sheen of sweat.

"Wanna learn how to do this?" he calls out, grunting again when he picks up the pristine spare.

He's given no response as he lines up the holes and pushes the tire into the wheelbase. His biceps flex with soreness, and when he peers up again, Sawyer still looks at him, her eyes communicating something obscure. They have a little stare-down until he can't take it anymore and begins replacing the lug nuts. His jaw is clenched as he works quickly to try to get to the bungalow as soon as possible so they can untangle this yarn of bizarre tension.

Once the tire is secure, the old one is thrown in the trunk, and the tools are all put away. Harry walks over to Sawyer. She's perched herself on the car's hood, picking at her cuticles. Standing in front of her, he places his hands on either side of her thighs, his shoulders taut as he watches her eyes dance over the sky behind him. He kisses the tender spot below her jawbone, tasting and smelling residual coconut tanning lotion left there. Goosebumps rise across the expanse of her neck like a swelling tidal wave, and Harry can't help but bury his face in it and whimper pitifully. He's like a needy puppy when she ignores him, pawing for the tiniest bit of love and attention.

"It's so hot out," he complains before sighing dramatically. "Let's head back."

Sawyer doesn't push him away, which counts as progress. "I want to watch the sun go down," she says, lost in thought. "Who knows the next time we'll be able to on an abandoned desert highway."

He won't argue with that. He doesn't need to nor necessarily want to. If Sawyer wants to soak in the sunset, he'll endure the feverish weather if it makes her happy. Besides, she's right; little precious moments, such as experiencing the sun dip below the horizon, leaving behind a new, wispy portrait of captivating colors each day, are worth pausing life from time to time.

Sealing a kiss on her forehead, Harry hops on the hood and settles beside her. "I'll never learn how to say no to you."

☼ ☼ ☼

Back at the secluded bungalow, an unorthodox band of tension is still waiting to be snapped.

Sawyer has started cooking dinner with the miscellaneous ingredients she purchased from the downtown market yesterday morning. Canola oil is popping and sizzling in a frying pan, and julienned bell peppers of various colors are ready to be sautéed. Harry took a quick shower to wash the ocean and sweat from his sunburnt skin and has since changed into a white long-sleeved button-up tucked into teal trousers. He also has a pair of sunglasses over his eyes to help relieve spending hours in saltwater and squinting under the blinding sun.

Sawyer is in a tight, cropped blue camisole with low-waisted silk pajama pants. Her hair is down, golden beach waves reaching the middle of her back as she maneuvers around the kitchen area. Harry observes her from the dining room table, not quite knowing how to initiate a conversation without stretching the metaphorical elastic too far. Or worse, past the point of no return.

He watches Sawyer tilt the cutting board over the pan so the peppers fall into it. They immediately crackle when introduced to the heat. She then takes a wooden spoon and stirs the vibrant vegetables, turning on the overhead stove fan so the smoke doesn't set any detectors off. She's still ignoring him, entirely focused on one task and pretending there's not an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed before the night concludes. Harry knows if he brings it up, she'll shut it down, say everything is fine, and insist she's not angry. She's a terrible liar, so he'll save that tactic for another argument.

As he stares at the back of her head, he realizes he doesn't like her version of the silent treatment. It's okay if she won't talk to him, but acting like he doesn't exist is ruthless. So, he walks over to her and wraps his arms around her slim waist. She tenses but continues mixing the peppers in silence.

Okay, that's definitely not the reaction he wanted. Not even an ounce of acknowledgment when he begins kissing her neck, taking his time loving on the beautiful ridges carved there.

"Slow dance with me," he murmurs pleadingly, squeezing her.

"I'm busy right now."

Now, don't get him wrong; he likes her stubbornness. He even finds it incredibly endearing to a degree. But when it's directed toward something he's clueless about, he finds himself having to coax an answer past her adamant walls of defense. Being candid doesn't always end well, so choosing the proper approach is crucial if he wants to crawl out of the hole he's dug himself into.

Harry reaches around her preoccupied figure to flick the stove's heat off. The blue flame vanishes, and the sizzling ceases, causing Sawyer to sigh heavily as she sets the wooden spoon off to the side. She still doesn't turn around, even when Harry moves her thick hair over her left shoulder and starts planting warm kisses further down her skin, slower and more intentionally. She smells like the ocean breeze at the height of summer, sweepingly refreshing and pure. He doesn't know how he went so long without touching her like this.

Light from a dying yet persistent sunset pours through the slanted ceiling window. The nearby radio quietly plays a mariachi song that doesn't fit the fraught mood. Upbeat and punchy, the music is supposed to evoke happiness and camaraderie. It falls short this time, but like before, lemons can always be turned into lemonade.

"Do you know how to Salsa?" Harry pipes up while stepping away, giving her room to breathe.

"How to make salsa?" Sawyer replies distractedly. She's begun garnishing the semi-cooked peppers with fresh oregano.

"No, how to dance the Salsa."

She drizzles more oil into the pan. Her hand hovers over the stove's knob to light the flame again, but she retracts and mutters, "Um, not really."

Harry rolls his sleeves to his elbows and tosses his sunglasses onto the counter. "It's all in the hips, isn't it?"

She glances back at him for a split second before leisurely spinning around and crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you need something?"

"Sí, muñeca."

The almost invisible twitch of her lips doesn't go unnoticed by his attentive nature. "What is it?" she asks impatiently. "I'm trying to make dinner. You know, I've realized you always decide to be a pest when I'm not paying enough attention to you."

Busted. Well, at least she's talking to him now.

Harry begins clapping his hands to the song's rhythm in the background and swinging his hips in a terrible presentation of what's supposed to be salsa dancing. Sawyer arches her eyebrow and blankly stares at his uncoordinated movements. He's making an absolute fool of himself, but honestly, he just wants to see her smile. He'll go to the greatest lengths.

Shuffling closer to her, he caresses her limp hands and tries to get her to loosen up. "Let's dance."

“I'm not in the mood to dance."

He frowns dramatically, widening his feet to be the same height as her. "What's going on right now, hmm? We were having so much fun earlier."

Sawyer slides away from the stove and leans against the adjacent kitchen wall. A psychedelic painting of a gecko in the desert hangs above her. "It's not that hard to figure out," she says, looking everywhere but at him. It stings just a tad.

One of Harry's hands rests flat on the wall beside her, his thumb faintly yet purposefully touching the shell of her ear. He leans in and murmurs, "Are you still upset with me?"

The stubborn girl he knows and loves dearly steadily nods her head. "I'm furious. My body is on fire."

He bites his bottom lip with his front teeth as his piercingly intimidating gaze hungrily travels downward and lands on her exposed stomach. The silver bellybutton ring shining against her golden skin sets him on fire in an entirely different way. She's a delectable feast for the eyes.

Harry doesn't believe that her blood is boiling to the extent of fury, but he'll entertain her flair for dramatics. He says, "I'm sorry for shoving a camcorder in your face when you got embarrassed."

Sawyer gives him a puzzled look. "Huh? Oh, I don't care about that. I'm over it."

"Okay, then tell me why you're so furious." He's being thrown for a loop, and it's making him dizzy.

It's clear she's internally contemplating her response based on how her posture becomes less stiff. After rubbing her arm awkwardly, she says, "Because you're not nice."

Harry blinks slowly. Once, then twice. "What?"

"You were being a jerk by teasing me while fixing the tire."

It takes a while to realize his plan totally backfired. His innocuous teasing wasn't supposed to make her even more mad at him, and now he's stuck in a maze of figuring out exactly what he did wrong. Girls are so complicated!

Unless…

"Is that what this is about?" he asks, his lips quirking in amusement and slow realization. Perhaps the little show he put on for her had the intended effect after all.

Sawyer scoffs. "Stop smiling!"

He grins like a lovesick fool. "I'm not smiling."

"Yes, you are! Your eyes smile before your mouth does." She goes to tuck her stray baby hairs behind her ears, and when she does, Harry traps her fidgeting fingers with his hand still resting beside her head.

"Yeah?" he goads, his pulse throbbing faster. "When did you notice that about me?"

"I've always noticed it. It's so easy to tell when you're about to smile. Your eyes glimmer, and then you scrunch your nose."

"You like watching me?"

"Cállate. We're not finished with this argument."

"Go on, then."

Sawyer waves her free hand around as incomplete sentences get caught in her throat. "I— you— we can't keep doing this!"

Harry's heart falters at the vagueness of her confession. "What are you saying? Be gentle with me."

She gathers her crumbling composure, then carefully says, "What I mean is... we can't keep fueling this fire if we're not going to do anything about it."

The fire she speaks of has been wildly swirling in his stomach for a long time. He's managed to tame the carnal flames by waiting for Sawyer to declare her desires first since her comfort level is always his top priority. The opportunity has now risen, and he's lucky she has opened up this much so that he can jump in and kickstart the colloquy they've been hesitantly dancing around for months.

"Is this about sex?"

Pink spiderwebs of heat spread across her face. Harry's thumb presses down on the apple of her blushing cheek, her skin delightfully warm. It's nice to know a little fire has also been burning in her stomach. It's just a matter of tending to both of them. Kindle the flames until they roar with lust.

"Sort of," Sawyer mumbles, her eyebrows plunging with an unknown emotion. "Maybe. Yes. I don't know. All I know is that I don't want to tiptoe around it anymore." Her hand reaches out to rest on his neck, her pleading body language igniting the embers again. "Harry, it's killing me. I can't hide it."

He cups the side of her head. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, baby?" His voice has stooped to a deep, gentle rumble that shelters her with compassion.

"I didn't want to rush into things." She drapes her arms over his shoulders and plays with the outgrown curls at the nape of his neck. "I want to take my time with you and soak you in day by day. Take slow sips of your sunshine."

Knees weak, Harry whispers, "Don't. Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"With those eyes, Sawyer. Don't look all innocent when your words are the opposite."

She's completely clueless about how her imploring brown eyes can hold such seductiveness. Amber flecks swim in her irises, which are the color of dark chocolate. Rich. Exquisite. Tempting. Harry wants to break her off between his teeth like peppermint bark and swallow her silky, revivifying sweetness.

The tip of Sawyer's nose trails along his jaw, her lips brushing a path against his hot skin and setting fire to his loins. "I'm just tired of being patient. Does that make sense?"

Harry gives her a slight, truthful nod, then slumps his forehead against hers. "Tell me what you need, and I'll give it to you. There's no need to be shy around me. I'm your boyfriend."

"What if you don't want the same thing? That'd be so embarrassing."

"Sawyer Alejandra, you are so goddamn stubborn. Do you want me to just give it to you straight? Because I will." He takes a deep breath before blurting, "I want to have sex with—"

She clamps her hands over his entirely-too-bold mouth. "Shush!" Pinching her eyes shut, she whines and grumbles, "Forget I said anything. I have to finish cooking dinner."

If there's one thing he knows about Sawyer's personality, it's that the second she feels an ounce of mortification, she immediately backtracks. He'd usually let it slide, but this topic of conversation is a tricky one to simply forget about and move on from like nothing happened.

Harry unwinds her hands from around his neck and keeps them cradled in his grasp. Then, while staring into her devastatingly gorgeous eyes, he says, "This tension between us isn't going to just magically disappear. Either we do something about it, or ignore it. Your choice."

Sawyer swallows thickly. "I want to, so badly. But I'm scared."

"Why?" he asks, trying to open her blooming petals. They're singed with uncertainty.

"It's an incredibly vulnerable act, dufus." She cutely wrinkles her nose.

"And we're incredibly vulnerable lovers, so what's the sitch?"

She brings their conjoined hands up to her lips and kisses his knuckles. Against his skin, she mumbles, "How do we even go about this? I've made it awkward."

He shakes his head in disagreement. "You didn't. Do you trust me to take the reins?"

"Of course."

"Then follow me to the bedroom."

Sawyer points to the stove. "But what about dinner?"

Harry pinches her cheek and starts dragging her down the hallway. "I know just the cure for an appetite."

☼ ☼ ☼

The queen-sized bed has sheer canopy curtains draped around it. They were too lazy to make it this morning, so the sheets are still crumpled, and pillows are strewn about. Sunlight streams through the open bay window, making the room glow a tender hue of honey.

It's alluring and also equally terrifying.

Harry went into the master bathroom to mentally prepare himself, even though he told Sawyer he was just freshening up. His reflection in the mirror peered back at him pensively. He fixed his hair about ten times, swiped another layer of deodorant across his armpits, and then gave himself a hushed pep talk before swinging the door open and putting on a cool, calm, and collected face.

Yet the butterflies in his stomach currently contradict everything he's trying to convey, especially when he finds his sweet Sawyer sitting against the headboard, the puffy duvet covering her bare breasts. The sun casts light on her stunning face and accentuates her apprehensive features. She's innocently staring at him as if she didn't knowingly climb into bed without any clothes on and sat there patiently waiting for him like the good girl she is.

And... he's hard already. Well, that's one less thing to worry about.

Harry clears his throat and strips down to his boxers, then slides into the space next to her, waiting with bated breath. Neither of them looks at each other, too hesitant to make the first move. They've both had sex with different people before, so it's not like they're blind leading the blind, but now that they're actually in the bedroom, all confidence has apparently flown out the window.

"We could start with, like, kissing or something." So much for saying he'd take the reins. He can't even speak properly right now.

In his peripheral, he sees Sawyer nod hastily. "Sure," she says, quieter than ever.

"Okay. Are you comfortable doing it naked since you're already... naked?" She laughs, and Harry smacks his forehead. "Sorry. God, I'm so nervous. You're making me feel like a teenager all over again."

Silence lingers long enough for him to finally gain the courage to glance at Sawyer. She locks eyes with him, then slowly, almost teasingly, lets the duvet drop and pool around her waist. Harry's mouth goes dry as he takes in skin he's never fully seen before. She's soft, shapely, and undeniably tempting.

Sawyer crawls on her hands and knees until she's straddling his lap. She still has her underwear on, lace boy shorts that hug her hips deliciously well. With blood rushing to his brain (and other places), his reaction is a bit delayed until his hands eventually find their place on her waist. He's breathing deeply, nostrils flaring as he ravenously wonders how she will look naked underneath him, pleasure etched on her face.

"You're divine," Harry whispers while toying with the flimsy hem of her underwear.

"So are you," she replies, rubbing a coquettish hand down his chest. "Hey, let's maybe skip the kissing part? I'm kind of impatient."

"Damn, all right. We're diving straight in?"

She presses her body against his torso and hooks her arms around his neck. "I want to feel you. I've dreamed about it."

A desperate groan sounds in his throat. "You're lying."

"I'm not. Then I'd wake up, and you'd be kissing me like you knew exactly what I needed. And your hands would get so close to where they were in my dream but never close enough."

"Yeah? Where were my hands in your dream?"

Her eyes flutter shut as if she's recalling the fantasy. "Mm... everywhere. Warm and heavy between my thighs. Sliding up my stomach." A lazy, sensual smile creeps onto her lips as she adds, "Around my neck."

Harry is tired of waiting a second longer. He flips her over so he's on top, his silver necklace with the 'S' pendant swinging over her collarbones like a pendulum. "Let me make you feel good. I'll give you the real deal."

Sawyer twists the chain around her pointer finger and tugs him closer. "Please. I want it more than anything."

"Dig your heels into my back," he instructs before shuffling down her body until his head is lined up with her thighs.

She complies, and the pressure on his shoulder blades makes him choke on a moan. Her bent legs effortlessly fall open, granting him access to the single layer of fabric that comes between him and paradise. He stares at her from his position, his hands hooking around her knees. She stares back at him, a vehement fire in her eyes.

"It's all yours."

Her readiness is enough for him to lose his last shred of self-control. He leaves a suckling love bite on her inner thigh, then murmurs, "Lift your hips for me."

She raises the lower half of her body, and Harry slides her underwear off. She assists him when it reaches her ankles by kicking it across the bedroom. He focuses back on the inviting sight before him. A shiver trails down his spine when he takes two of his fingers and circles them around her entrance. She's dripping wet.

Sawyer's jaw goes slack as she scratches her nails across the expanse of Harry's sturdy back. He hisses past his clenched teeth, loving the luxurious burn. Tingling and tantalizing sensations course through his system as he tests the waters, slowly sinking his middle finger past her drenched opening. He vigilantly gazes into Sawyer's eyes the entire time, gauging her expressions for the faintest flicker of pain or unease.

"Talk to me," he says.

"It stings a little, but keep going."

"You're doing so good. So, so good. Tell me if it's too much, okay?"

She nods with a raspy whine, so he adds another finger, then uses his thumb to press against her clit and rub halo shapes onto it. Her thighs tremble and tighten around his head, tiny gasps escaping past her lips. He leaves bruising, biting kisses on her skin as he skillfully works his fingers, which are now soaked with her arousal. Filthy thoughts invade his fuzzy brain, thoughts of dreams he's had himself. Vivid images of doing what he's doing right now, except they'd always be cruelly cut short by the breaking of dawn.

Harry grinds his hips into the mattress, alleviating the ache while his kisses move closer to where his fingers are. Sawyer's panted breaths motivate him to ask: "Do you want my mouth?"

"Yes, please. Eres tan bueno conmigo."

The foreign praise rolling off her tongue enchants him to dive into her sweet, sticky heat. He laps up her wetness like its melted candy, the taste dangerously addictive. He hums insatiably, palms spreading on her lower stomach as he swirls his tongue inside of her. His cheeks are ablaze with sex drive as his eyes train themselves on Sawyer's face. Soft, sensual sounds trickle out of her mouth, fueling the intensity with which he pleasures her.

Pulling away for air, Harry whispers, "I can't get enough of you," before replacing his mouth with his fingers. They slide past her clenching walls so enticingly, so perfectly.

"Harry," Sawyer moans, fisting his hair and tugging at the strands. "I-I'm almost there. It's so strong."

He removes all body contact while sucking his fingers clean, then catapults off the bed to quickly grab a condom before she loses her approaching climax. He sifts through his duffel bag, finding the box he secretly packed in case something happened on this trip.

Maybe he manifested it. Or perhaps his girlfriend is simply braver than him.

Making his way over to the bed again (tripping on Sawyer's unplugged curling iron in the process), he bounces back on the mattress and hands her the foil package. Her skin is glowing with an angelic radiance, but sinfulness cracks through when she pushes on his chest to get him to lay back. She straddles him and rips open the package with her teeth. The arch of her back, the excitement in her movements, and the slickness of her arousal are all he sees. She has no idea how heavenly she looks.

Sawyer's fingertips walk down his abdomen and brush over his length, which is straining against his boxers. "Can I?" she asks politely, her eyes wondrous.

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Harry cradles her head and brings it down for a fond kiss, her hair tickling his face. "Feeling okay? Not in pain or anything, are you?"

She shakes her head. "No. I feel like I'm floating."

"Same here." He breaks into an aching smile, coming to the realization of how special this moment is. "I love you so much. I'm gonna remember this forever."

"Me too." Sawyer slides his boxers off, their harmonious breathing mixing together. Harry's cock breaks loose and rests against his happy trail, reddened and throbbing. "Woah."

He laughs at her reaction. "Don't act so surprised. It's all your fault, baby."

She blushes and carefully rolls the condom on while Harry stifles moans by biting his knuckles. He won't last very long, but he'll make it worthwhile for her. He'll take his time, just how she likes it. Soak her presence in. Slow sips.

He sits on his knees, then motions for Sawyer to recline and spread her legs. Once she's in position, he settles an arm on either side of her body and hovers over her. He tucks her hair behind her ears and leaves a hungry kiss on her lips. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she exhales. "You?"

"Totally."

"Change my life, sunray."

Grabbing the base of his cock, he lines it up with her entrance. He reminds himself to go slow as his tip sinks into her, and he keeps it there as he watches Sawyer's face. Her shiny lips are parted, eyebrows pushed together. Her legs squeeze him while her hands hold onto his biceps. The muscles of her cheekbones twitch. God, she's an angel.

"I've got you," Harry says, a thrilling knot forming in the pit of his stomach. "Fuck, you were made for me."

He sinks further into her wet warmth, one hand grasping her leg to bend it more. She's tight, yet he's able to fit himself all the way in. Gasps leave both of their mouths at the feeling of him bottoming out, and it's like everything is moving in slow motion, the golden haze in the room adding to the delicacy of the moment.

"Mierda. Oh my God, Harry. Oh my..." Her fragile voice, leaking with whispery weeps, shatters his poise as he begins thrusting in and out. Sawyer's limbs become weak, her feet slipping down to the dip of his spine. It's all hot breath and swallowing each other's noises with sloppy kisses. Being inside her is a level of intimacy that electrifies every part of his soul. It's unfamiliar territory that binds him closer to the girl he wants forever. The orange flames they stepped around for years are now a cool, sapphire-blue.

Their hips reconnect with each thrust, a beautiful sound fused with their satisfied moans. Harry's pendant sways forward, his neck straining. Sawyer's nails pierce crescent moons onto his back, followed by more scratches that make him shudder.

"Goddamn," he chokes out, his cheek pressed against hers. "You feel stellar. I'm close. Give me... Christ, give me something to dream about."

"I'm there," she says. "I love you. I can't hold it any longer."

"Let it go, Sawyer. C'mon."

Arching her back off the mattress, she orgasms with a cry of release, and the vision of her has Harry immediately spilling out into the condom. It's powerful, otherworldly, and absolutely life-changing. He pulls out and lays on top of her, embracing her in a hold of overwhelming adoration as he whimpers into the pillow beside her head. They both melt into each other, sweaty and happy, coming down from their individual climaxes.

Every minute that passes, the room grows darker due to the moon painting the sky black with stars. Only the wind and their breathing fill the space, cool and heated gusts reciprocating. Harry can feel Sawyer's lips against his temple, curving up with a smile every so often. He's got a permanent smile as his fatigued gaze stares at the ring on her finger. He feels like sunshine is bursting from his pores and serotonin is being absorbed.

Sawyer is the first to move. She uses her remaining strength to get up and tightly wrap the sheets around her naked body before stepping out onto the balcony. With the door open, he can see the full moon illuminate the expanse of the flat desert, cacti and palm trees looming as far as the eye can see. The lack of humidity at night causes a balmy breeze to encircle her body, whipping her tousled hair.

"Can I tell you a secret now that we've had sex?" Harry asks from his place on the bed. His voice is sore and hoarse.

Sawyer turns around and bites her lip with a giddy grin. "Shoot."

He disposes of his condom, then puts his boxers back on and joins her, not caring about the chilliness. He still feels warm inside and out. "Do you remember our phone call last September when I was in South Carolina with a broken wrist?"

A flash of remembrance crosses her moonlit face. "Yeah. I was so worried about you."

He cradles her cheeks and pertly kisses her nose. "You took such good care of me when I got back."

It's the absolute truth. All the tagalongs to physical therapy, icing his wrist while cuddled on the couch, being a shoulder to cry on when he got frustrated—he couldn't have done it without her.

"I hated seeing you in pain," she says, looping her arms around his torso. "It hurt my heart."

"Never mind that." He inhales deeply and pushes forth his confession. "You... when you said you missed me during that call, a feeling came over me. Something in your voice made me weak. And something happened to me that had never happened before. I don't even know why I'm telling you—"

"Spit it out, Harry."

His head tilts back as far as it can go. "Fuck's sake. I got hard, Sawyer. Your voice made me hard."

Her mouth hangs wide open. A well-timed gust of wind passes like an awkward moment in a cartoon. "Um, wow. I'm not really sure how to respond to that."

"You don't have to say anything. Just thought you should know now that we've done the deed."

Sawyer giggles, hiding her face in the space between his pecs. "First off, please don't call it that." She looks at him and continues, "Secondly, you thought I should know that you got hard in South Carolina?"

He starts laughing too. It's contagious around her. "I should also probably tell you that I jerked it out in a crummy Holiday Inn shower. It was quite pathetic and sad."

She sputters out a boisterous cackle that echoes across the barren desert. Harry's cheeks flush instantaneously. "I appreciate your honesty."

"On a more serious note," Harry starts, gripping the balcony railing with one hand, the other on her hip, "I appreciate how you forced a confession out of me the next day. Don't know if I've ever told you that."

Her expression turns sorrowful. "I didn't mean to pressure you. It had been building up inside me for so long, and you looked so beautiful that night. My heart spoke for me and—"

Harry cups her jaw and kisses her unexpectedly, making her squeak. It reminds him of that night in the rain when his blue raspberry lips collided with hers for the first time. He pulls away slowly, fitting his nose over her own and swaying her slightly. "You did everything right. I was a coward who was frightened of rejection. The thought of ruining what we already had was nauseating."

"You thought I would've rejected you?"

"I never really know what you're thinking. That pretty brain of yours holds so many secrets."

Sawyer steals a ripe kiss. "Can I tell you one right now?"

"Always."

She kisses him again before saying, "I see forever with you. I want to wake up in your arms every day. I want to laugh with you until our sides ache. I want to kiss you until I get dizzy."

"Sawyer," Harry whispers, his eyes softening.

"I mean it. No one will ever make me feel this type of love again."

"I feel the same. You're all I need."

"Te quiero. Mi alma es tuya."

He nips her neck, slow and tender. "If you keep speaking Spanish to me, we're not getting any sleep tonight."

"Sí? Quieres más rasguños en la espalda?"

"Gonna tell me what that means?"

She gracefully traces the tattoo on his abdomen and says, "I can show you instead."

Harry's stomach suddenly grumbles with hunger, ruining the intimate moment. He peers at the twinkling sky above and laughs at the inconvenient interruption. "I would love that, but I'm absolutely starving right now. We skipped dinner."

"There's cold peppers on the stove."

"Delicious," he says sarcastically, shifting his gaze to her again. A few seconds pass before something he wants to mention pops into his thoughts. "Hey, did you know this month marks five years since we first met?"

Sawyer gapes at him, genuinely surprised. "No way. Five years?"

"Crazy, right? Five years since you almost gave me a concussion."

"I still feel terrible about that," she admits with a pout.

Harry remembers everything about that day, even when his brain got jolted by a killer volleyball serve by the prettiest girl on Cocoa Beach. Her brown eyes up close, holding gentle concern for a stranger. That sassy hand on her hip thing she still does today. Clementine fabric against caramel skin. Orange juice in a bottle. Summerboy.

"But if that never happened," he says quietly, "then we might've never spoken to each other."

Her dreamy hum tells him she's musing about it too. "That's true. Isn't it mind-blowing how the tiniest of decisions can affect the entire course of your life? I like to think that every past choice of mine led me to you."

He admires the way her voice gets wispy when her mind wanders. "Word. Does post-sex make you all philosophical and shit?"

She shrugs. "Maybe."

"Cool." Harry backs away while holding her hands until their fingers eventually slip from each other's grasp. "Well, while you brood about Plato's teachings, I'm going to snack on your world-famous half-cooked peppers."

"Have fun with that."

"I will. Love you." Halfway through the doorway, he suddenly stops and rushes forward, giving her a suffocating hug, his lungs breathing everything about her. "All jokes aside," he murmurs, "I also believe everything I did brought me to you. And it just makes sense to be in love with you. Okay, bye."

He's off and running toward the kitchen before she can say anything else, not even the shadows of night on the floor being able to darken the natural luminescence he leaves behind.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles #adore-laur #sunstruck #southpaw series

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bowandcurtsey · 2 years

Note

Hi hello hi can is u or are u doing well aine? (●’◡’●)ﾉcan i pls request yuno, nozel and fuegoleon with an squadmate later on gf who is

Dorothys sister and has like a golden retriever personality (energetic and cheery)

Stay safe♡︎♡︎♡︎

Hello lovely bby! You're request is just so cute! also, we have been having lotsa Yuno and Nozel requests lately! And I really need a Dorothy's sister at this point! ヽ(*⌒▽⌒*)ﾉ

Characters: Yuno, Nozel, Fuegoleon TW: unchecked

Yuno Grinberryall

It didn't really matter to Yuno who's sister you were. He respected Captain Dorothy and since he was a vice captain himself, he easily befriended you.

He was first attracted to your personality because you were well… Asta.

You brought so much joy with your goofiness and silliness to everyone around you, even on tough days, it didn’t seem too hard with you around.

He was always so shy and reserved, trying to be all cool but you? You didn't care if you got into any embarrassment, you just laughed it off and you were just happy when everyone else is happy too.

Well, thankfully for him, opposite attracts and you had a crush on him too. Very open crush in fact. You weren't even shy to show everyone that Yuno is your favourite.

Well, he was pretty okay since Bell does it most of the time, but he found it endearing when it was you. He was even proud at times.

Now when you were both a couple, he would reciprocate your love.

"I love you!" you would tell him a couple of times a day.

"I love you too," he would smile fondly and pat your head gently.

You two were pretty much the total opposites of each other, but it was what made the two of you so good together, like yin and yang.

Fun fact: Dorothy absolutely ships the both of you and can not stop talking about how cute you two are when she's awake.

Nozel Silva

He was initially reluctant to progress further since you were his close confidant's sister. But over time, your cheerful personality just made him so attracted to you, it was more like an addiction.

He found himself constantly wanting to be with you, thinking about you, and feeling happy when you were around.

Dorothy found out by herself of course, nothing gets past this witch. She teased Nozel in her dreamland to confirm it. *cues a madly blushing Nozel trying to cover up his embarrassment*

Captain Coral Peacocks was trying her best to match make the both of you but you were already crushing on that man so it was a pretty easy affair.

After you two were official, there was no stopping Nozel from looking at you openly with fondness in his eyes. He smiled so much more, everyone around him was so glad, they seldom got any grumpy Captain anymore.

Oh. Unless you had to leave him for a mission or some sort. He's grumpy af without his happy pill.

He spoils you with everything you want, but you were a happy-go-lucky person anyway, so you were just happy to be with him. Also gives in to ANY request you have. You want to watch that new theatre show? He's got the tickets and you're going tomorrow. You want to have ice cream? He buys the ice cream truck down.

Nozel graduately became less reserved and more open and happy after being together with you. Mama Acier in the heavens is proud.

Fuegoleon Vermillion

He was attracted to you from the very beginning. How bright and just a ball of sunshine you were, bringing light to everyone's day.

Captain Vermillion was very clear that he liked you from day one. And of course he wooed you like a gentleman he was. He even asked your sister officially for permission before wooing you.

Now that you both were together, need I say more? He looks at you like a lovesick boy looking at his crush. Sometimes he looks at you like you were a goddess and at times he looks at you like you were the cutest thing on earth.

People around him cannot stand how he is in your presence. He's just so smitten by you, don't mind him. You have him wrapped around your pinky. You just make him so happy everyday because of your cheerful personality. With you by his side, it seems that nothing is difficult or unachievable.

You find it funny and cute how sometimes he gets a little shy when you're so affectionate towards him in public but he still tries to return your affection. It'll be subtle though, like a quick peck to your temples or head.

Oh but watch out, because ever since you were his, he gets angry real quick if anyone were to bully or hurt you. Even Salamander was protective over you. If Fue ever makes you upset, Sal gives his owner THE EYE.

You can absolutely get Fue to do anything you want. Give him your best puppy eyes and a "please~". And swing his hand a little, he'll give in no matter what.

He lives for the moment when he sees you laugh and giggle without a worry in the world.

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thebookworm0001 · 6 months

Text

keep your demons on a leash

rating: Explicit

pairing: Reycaryn (the Dark Urge) x Astarion

summary: The violent thoughts and impulse to kill have been with Reycaryn since she woke aboard the Nautiloid. While she resists as best she can, sometimes the urge becomes overwhelming. Thankfully, there is more than one way to get blood racing - and Astarion is happy to help her raise her pulse.

AO3 link: here

warning for some Dark Urge-y thoughts through the beginning of the fic

The Urge was loud today. It was not often quiet, but it did not sing in her blood most days as it did now. Butchering the gnolls, first by her own hand then by turning them against each other, had woken it. A blood-shot eye winking open. Refusing to visit the same on the Zhenterim had sent it screaming in indignation. And though some bandits with more armor than sense had been left to the carrion birds after demanding her purse, their ends had far from sated the voice that begged for more bitch-butchery through her every hour.

Reycaryn was not want to sit idle, though. Ever since Astarion had sought her out several nights ago, whispering pretty words about how he’d grown to enjoy her for more than the meals she provided, they’d had an understanding. It hadn’t escaped her notice that his proposition came quickly after she had not stood in the way of his murdering the monster hunter who’d come to capture him, but if his way of cementing something like an alliance was through sex, she had no qualms with that. He received a stronger foothold in her priorities, and she had someone to turn to on nights like tonight: when the Urge needed drowning out with something to make her blood run hot.

It had taken entirely too long for her companions to settle in for the night, taken in by a discussion of the day’s events and the need to gossip about each other’s habits and quirks. Gale’s penchant for talking about his Goddess-turned-ex-whatever-they’d-been had been a particular favorite of the group. And she’d managed a jab or two herself before her writhing insides sent her near-sprinting to a nearby spring to cool off. She’d felt Astarion’s eyes on her then, questioning whether now would be the moment to slip away and find their slice of privacy. But she suspected he knew as well as she that while blood made for a decent lubricant, water alone did not, no matter the aesthetics. Though he likely remembered how he learned that particular comparison. Still, the bath had only lasted so long, and their resident Warlock was, annoyingly, watchful at his post. She’d tried to squash the thoughts of where he could that famed Blade he waved about so enthusiastically. But then the Blade’s eyes began to drift closed, and the tang of magic filled the air as Astarion causally sauntered into the woods.

And Reycaryn had never been quite so glad for the rogue’s minor magical talent.

He’d already divested himself of his shirt when she’d caught up to him, and he dragged his eyes along her form with a heavy-lidded smirk when she emerged from the trees.

“Well aren’t you the eager little thing.” She undid the closures of her leather top and let it slide into the ground, and her nipples grew taught at the exposure to the cool night air. Her flesh seemed to burn under his gaze as it leisurely took in her newly bared skin. They lingered, briefly, over the expanse of her breast where he had drank from her the other night. It was ballsy, knowing her normal attire left much of skin exposed. But she’d acquired new armor that demanded breaking in - and the sharp, constant ache of hard leathers agitating a still-healing wound had been such sweet agony. Her undershirt had been crimson by the end of the day. But the Urge had been quiet. Surely she could tempt him to bite her there again.

“I prefer efficient,” she let her hips swing as she stalked toward him, and slid her hands up his bare chest, over his shoulders, and into his hair when he gave no sign of hesitancy. “I like to make the most of my time.”

“Efficient,” his lip curled in disgust, “I’m afraid you’ve somehow mistaken me for Lae’zel, darling. Though I don’t see how you’ve managed that with these dashing good looks.” She curled her fingers tightly into his curls to stave off the way they started to twitch, then stood on her toes to hold her lips a breath from his ear.

“My apologies,” she breathed, then pressed a kiss to the place his pulse ought to have beat. “Clearly,” another kiss below it, “I have neglected the master,” a kiss to his collarbone, “for raw force.” Pretty pictures of her perched atop him, that perfect hair tousled from exertion, eyes blown wide as blood rushed from his head, played in her mind and sent her heart racing. She sunk down on her feet to look up at him through her lashes. “However shall I make it up to you.”

He smiled, fangs glinting in the moonlight, and a thread of instinctual fear thrilled down her spine and between her legs.

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something.” His hands found purchase on her hips. He pulled, bringing her body flush to his. His length pressed hard against her stomach. She rolled her hips and smiled at the small moan it earned her. Slowly, his death-cooled hands rose at her sides, a wave of goose flesh traveling over her skin as they slid over her curves, thumbs briefly caressing the edges of her breasts on their way to frame her face. To anyone who stumbled across them, it might have been a romantic scene: her arms hanging from his neck, his hands holding her head, fingers hooked behind her jaw as though to hold her still for an all-consuming kiss. But his hold was not gentle, and she let out a satisfied hiss as one hand snaked beneath her braid and collected a fist of her hair, jerking her head back to expose the long column of her throat. She opened her mouth as his thumb swiped across her lower lip, teasing at the dark lick of flame inked into the center of it.

She moved to capture the digit between her teeth, to hold it in the wet heat and suck until the idea of removing himself was all but unthinkable, until he let her bite down and keep the bloody mess between her teeth forever, but he held her fast in his grip. And the sharp pain that shot across her scalp made her breath race from her lungs.

He tutted at her like a misbehaved kitten. “We ask before we bite, darling.” Her scalp tingled horribly, and she rewarded him with a wicked smile. It did not waver as he turned them around and bark bit into her bare back, or as she moaned when he shoved his thigh between her legs to pin her to the tree. She shifted her weight, her body searching for solid ground as he held her just off the ground, and felt her hips roll against him instead. Her clit ached at the pressure, and suddenly the whole of her attention was caught on the way the seam of her trousers felt when she twisted her hips just so. Again and again she writhed against his thigh, letting that seam and gravity and the delicious ache in her scalp bring her ever closer to that singular oblivion. Sweat ran down her back, skin flushed, as the knot in her stomach grew tighter and tighter until her hips were suddenly slammed back. Cold, unwavering hands held her tight against the tree, and the edge of that lovely cliff faded enough for her to see Astarion’s face - hunger of many flavors darkening his eyes.

Reycaryn swallowed, and tried to even out her breathing. It wouldn’t do to simply rut against him like an animal. That they could do well enough on their own. Though it would be something to try - to see how far the mere pressure of their bodies against each other could take them. But that was a game for a setting with more time. And privacy. And preferably pillows. Cushioned by red and bleeding and- she shook the thought away. No. The only cushion she wanted in this moment was the grass beneath her, paltry as it was.

“It seems,” she breathed,” I have a great many things to apologize for tonight.” Twisted her fingers through his curls once again, she relished at how soft they were against her skin and how lovely they looked laid against his neck. “Let me make it up to you.” She stared into his eyes, the blood red irises nearly encompassed by the dark of his pupils, before dragging her own down down down to where his length strained against the ties of his pants and licked her lips. “May I?”

It took a moment for him to respond. Thoughts flicked rapidly in his eyes as he weighed her proposal. Likely he’d intended for her to stop only long enough to be divested of her trousers so that he could lavish her with practiced tongue and hands, or simply take advantage of the wetness that had already soaked a wet spot in his own pants to sheath himself in her heat. Something that would keep her swimming in her own arousal - that would remind her just how well she benefited from keeping him safe and well-fed. And she’d let him do so later. No reason to turn down the multitudes of pleasure he was keen to give her. Not when the rush of blood to her head and thighs managed the desire to see blood run elsewhere. But she could keep her thoughts at bay with his cock in her mouth as easily as with it in her cunt. And, well, perhaps she did feel a tiny bit bad about accidentally insulting him and then using him as little more than a grinding pad. She didn’t care to be quite that greedy. Especially not when the thought of taking him in her mouth already had her mouth watering.

Eventually though, a smirk crept onto his face. “Well darling, if you insist on getting on your knees for me, who am I to say no?” Cool air filled the empty space left by his thigh when he removed it from between her legs, and the smallest of whimpers escaped from between her teeth at the loss of pressure. Meanwhile, his hands fell to his side - waiting to see how she’d approach her new task before reaching to praise or guide. Trailing her fingers down his chest, Rey slowly sunk to her knees. She held his eyes with her own as she worked at the ties of his trousers, a task made more difficult for the way the leather ties pulled taught against each other under the strain of his length against the fabric. She pressed her mouth to the bulge, still staring up, dragging it down she loosed inch after inch - never letting her lips touch his flesh until he was fully free. She jerked his pants down, captured his balls in her mouth, and sucked.

She wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and stroked, twisting her wrist as she moved down the length of him. His hips twitched ever so slightly as she moved across his head, precum coating her palm, and a wave of heat flooded her body at how readily he responded. Their last tryst had been incredible by any measure - his focus on her had been all-encompassing. And though she would certainly not turn away that attention, she’d be remiss to not savor how he reacted to the same. When her hand retreated back up his length, her head followed. In a long, languid movement, she drug her tongue along its underside, flat and broad against the vein that protruded there and across his head, until she wrapped her lips around the very tip in the strange approximation of a kiss. Slowly, she fed him into her mouth, inch by inch passing her lips and over her flattened tongue until he hit the back of her throat. Where she found that her body needed no instruction on how to let his length pass further. Another memory her body held with no recollection of how she’d earned it. She took a deep breath, and let the muscles of her throat relax until her nose was pressed against her stomach. Then she released him. Fully removing him from the warmth of her mouth with a pop to suck in a breath. A trail of spittle hung from his cock, connected to her open lips.

When she took him in her mouth next, she stared up at him. Head thrown back, lips parted, she hummed her pleasure just to see his face twist up and relish the deep moan, almost a grunt, that met her ears. Fingers tenderly brushed against her cheek before diving into her hair. He grabbed a fistful of her braid at the base of her neck, and she offered no resistance when he pulled her deeper onto his length. She slid her own arms against his thighs, hands resting against the sharp handles of his hips, as though she might pull and seal herself against his frame. Again, he slipped past the barrier of her throat with ease, and a string of curses rained down on her when she rewarded the tension that kept him fully seated within her with a hard swallow. She hummed again, letting her hands wander upward to tease the pale plan of his stomach and chest, and smiled around his cock as his hips thrust forward, as if he could somehow find his way deeper into her mouth.

She let him guide her on and off his cock again and again, sucking and humming and swallowing in turns to coax a symphony of groans and grunts from between his teeth. And each time she let him hold her just a moment longer in that space where he filled her so fully she had to hold her breath. Sometimes she held herself there, relishing the extra sting as he yanked her farther back - the playful tutting that admonished her greediness. He was salty on her tongue, and bergamot, rosemary, and brandy cut through the scent of sweat. And while she knew her knees and jaw would ache terribly tomorrow, it would be a pleasant reminder of this evening’s activities. As engaging and enjoyable as Lae’zel had been, pleasant would not be the word to describe any part of their encounters. And she did not stare at her pulse fluttering in her neck as she wrapped her lips around her.

The world started darkening around the edges. Vaguely, Reycaryn registered that her chest was tightening, lungs beginning to scream. She could hold on a few seconds longer, she was sure, but dancing too close to that line where darkness claimed her fully was not the point of this exercise. A littler death was more appropriate for this evening. So she pushed her palms against him, hoping he would understand the request for a moment of air. In a moment, she was gasping. He pulled her away from his body by the hold he had on her hair and tilted her head up to the sky. The angle was hell on her neck, but her lungs cared little so long as she kept feeding them air.

Reycaryn smoothed her thumbs across Astarion’s hips when the fog cleared from her mind, which had somehow become her signal that she was ready to take him again, but he did not move her. Instead, he held her still. Then, slowly, he pulled her upright. Her knees folded out from under her, and she rushed to reach behind her, a hand latching onto his wrist as blood rushed back into her legs, leaving them tingling and weak. But he did not stop until she was standing straight and her head tilted up to meet his.

Suddenly she was very aware of her body. Of how her chest rose and fell, nipples taught and brushing against his skin with every breath. The drool that coated her chin and breasts, the tangled nest her hair had become under his grasp. Her swollen lips, the dark stain battle- and sex-tested as it was, were surely smudged. The prickle of her skin let her know Astarion was taking stock too. It was a slow, luxurious assessment, lingering everywhere and nowhere all at once. It ended on the slick dampness that coated her thighs despite her trousers. No amount of laundering would save them. Well, she had no one but herself to blame for that.

“I believe we’re well past the time for these ruined things.” His free hand hovered over the seam of her pants, hovering tantalizing close to where her blood pooled beneath her legs. She could not help how her hips rolled forward, seeking that contact. He avoided it, only touching her so much as he needed to slide his fingers underneath the hem against her hips. “‘Best be rid of them then.” Before she could move to help him unravel the ties, she heard a rip. Cool air kissed her hip, then a thigh, her ass as the sound of fabric being torn continued, until she was stepping out of the remains of what had once been a rather reliable pair of pants and undergarments. “We could have at least traded those, you know.”

“Trading your soaked underthings? Well now that is an idea. How much do you think the Wizard would pay?” Reycaryn rolled her eyes, though, she supposed, she had walked right into that one. The questions that arose about Gale’s relationship with Mystra and whether a goddess in the astral plane might leave naughty souvenirs, however, were entirely the vampire’s fault. But her mind stilled when his free hand found her hip. His thumb caressed the bone there, and she returned her attention to his face, where his eyes bore into her hungrily. His eyes flicked down to her lips, and she swallowed. She tilted her chin up as far as the hand in her hair would allow.

His head dipped down, but avoided her face entirely. His mouth found the hammering pulse in her neck and latched, intent on bruising before biting. His teeth were ghosts, mere suggestions of fangs against her heated flesh as he purposefully kept them hidden behind his lips. But he let them scrape against her skin as he found new purchase again and again, leaving a trail of marks hidden beneath her tattoos as he took his time tasting her. She tried to push against him, to end the damn teasing, nice as it was, and coax him to slide into her. In whatever way he cared to. In all the ways he cared to. But his hands held her tight, hips pressed back to the tree and neck so beautifully bared, and where his hands could not reach the rest of his body was an unmoving wall which had pressed against her when she was too distracted by the idea of his teeth in her neck to notice.

He continued to lavish attention on her skin, not so much as letting her squirm, and his tongue danced across her neck, her chest, her ears - his lips wrapped around the sensitive skin where the cartilage came to a point and sucked, and the moan she gave was guttural. His laughter was warm against her and fuck did she want that mouth occupied with other things. Like her mouth. Or her cunt. Gods she wanted him to touch her there. She’d been moments from cumming before, and now? Well, truth be told she could see herself coming with a well-timed pinch of her nipple at this point. But he did not need to know that. Nor did he need the boost to his ego should that occur. All the more reason for him to just fuck her.

“Something the matter, pet?” He smiled against her ear and gods she wanted to knock it off his stupid, handsome face. She settled for tugging at his hair as she tried to pull herself closer to something that would stab into her.

“You know damn well what’s-” Sharp, icy pain stole the words from her lips as he bit into her neck. Her heartbeat jumped against his lips, the muscle desperately trying to close the wound. A beautiful, futile attempt. He tongued at the fresh bruise beneath, the blood he’d already welled up there, and she hissed at the dull ache that joined the puncture at her throat. As she started to feel her limbs paradoxically lighten and fill with weight, he pulled away, dragging his tongue over the last drops that seemed from the wound as he sealed it with a flash of magic.

Then lips slammed into her own, and her breath caught as the force of it rattled her head against the tree. White scattered across her vision, and she moaned against his tongue as it claimed her mouth. Her blood was coppery and hot on his lips, and her body seemed to sing from the taste. She wanted more, wanted to know how she tasted to him, wanted to know how he might taste on her tongue. She nipped his bottom lip as they kissed, enough to make him gasp, enough to make him bleed, and smiled as their tastes met and mingled in their mouths.

In the next moment, his hands were cupping her ass, her legs wrapping around his waist as he lifted her up, back scraping against the bark of the tree, then brought her back down as he sheathed himself in her in one swift motion.

Fuck yes.

Astarion wasted no time letting her adjust. And she needed none. His thrusts were measured, practiced, the product of centuries of pacing himself to ensure things did not end too quickly. With each, she felt him press against that lovely inner spot that made her writhe in his arms. With his next move, she clenched down, and the stutter of his hips against hers earned her a stunning little grunt. She pressed her lips to the place where his neck met his shoulders, kissing and lapping at the sweat-soaked skin. Then biting down with a hiss as his hand snuck between them to play with her clit. She moans, a sound that rattles her chest, and she knows he’s pleased when he does the same again, and again, until there is nothing in her mind but his hand on her clit, his cock in her cunt, and the curses pouring from her lips.

He pressed her farther into the tree, her thighs wrapped around him and the full weight of him in each thrust holding her upright, to palm her breasts. She managed to drag her head from his shoulder, to press her lips against his and hope that her devouring kiss, tongue desperate to claim every corner, imparts just how desperately she needed this, how good it feels to be consumed by his every thrust and touch. She cupped his face with her hands, fingers digging into his jaw to hold him close, and she timed the way she clenched around him with each gasping breath she takes.

And then she tumbled over a cliff. She gasped into his mouth, body shaking, as the tweaking of a nipple and the pinch of her clit pushed her over the edge. She held on desperately as wave after wave of mindless, white-hot pleasure claimed her body. Astarion stuttered beneath her, then rallied - his pace shifting sharper, harder, and she felt the final roll of his hips as he came inside her, body shuddering.

They stood there for a while, his weight pressing her into the tree even as he let his head rest in the curve of her shoulder, until her heart found a calmer rhythm and he softened and slipped from her. His breath was warm against her skin as she unwrapped her legs and tested her weight on them, his hand close to her side in case they failed her. It took a few moments more for them to fully untangle, for their breath to no longer be mingled together. Reycaryn twisted a hand around to her back to feel for any wood that might have decided not to part with her yet. Thankfully she felt none, though her skin still held the imprint of the tree and likely would for another few hours. Good thing they had time yet before dawn and the rising of the rest of their companions.

Astarion, for his part, was already half-dressed. Trousers retied with no trace of their previous entanglement. Though, thinking of it now, she wasn’t actually sure if she’d properly divested him of them. His shirt, however, had been, and she took precious moments to find it discarded in the tree line.

“Excuse me, darling, but I do believe that shirt is mine.” Reycaryn pulled her hair through the ruffled collar of the shirt and pulled on the hem to adjust it. He wasn’t much taller than her, but it was, thankfully, a longer cut. Bending over would be a risk, but it would do.

“You can have it back in the morning. I’ll even make sure it’s in one piece.” She gestured to the wrecked pile of her clothes, then retrieved her top from where she’d left it. If she wandered back into camp wearing it and nothing else, well. Poor Wyll would never get the image out of his mind. “Besides,” she spun in a lazy circle, “I think I look rather nice in it, don’t you?”

He set his weight back on one heel, bringing a hand to support his chin as he appraised her. “Well no one can argue you lack taste.” He smirked, pleased by his unsubtle self-compliment. “Oh fine,” he sighed, something like amusement mixed with the resignation in his voice, “but I expect it washed and dried when you return it to me.”

“Oh, am I your laundress now?” She resisted the urge to look down and determine how soiled the shirt was. There were grass stains, she was sure, though those weren’t her fault. It was possible the bites on her neck had reopened, but she doubted Astarion would let the snack go to waste. More than likely, he was just being his normal self - he was rather precious about his clothes.

“It’s only the polite thing to do when borrowing clothes, darling. Especially after such.. invigorating activities.” He gave her a look that suggested he was keen to reclaim his shirt by continuing those activities, but she simply crossed her arms. Not that she wasn’t tempted - her body immediately heated at the idea - but she did want to trance for a few hours before she took over the night’s watch. Astarion shrugged and waved off the idea. “Then I shall see you in the morning.” And then he was gone, slipped between the trees to find his way back to camp or, more likely, to find a more filling meal somewhere in the woods.

Reycaryn stared at the place he’d disappeared for a moment, then shook her head and turned to her destroyed clothes. She couldn’t salvage them, but she wasn’t about to leave them out here either. She’d figure out what to do with them later. But first, a cold bath. And, she supposed, a spot of laundry.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #the dark urge #astarion x the dark urge #reycaryn #then she put pen to paper

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serpentineshine · 3 months

Note

Letters A, K, J, and P?

Yippee! Thank you tumblr mutual starredforlife <3 Oh boy, D&D NPC time, this post might be a bit of a long one… I may not be the best explanatory writer right now, but I tried. :’)

Alba Elûmoine (World Setting: Trita, Deltarra, Other)

A is pretty easy since Alba is a beloved recurring NPC of mine. Alba Elûmoine, or stage name “Alba Alabaster”, is a Tiefling with Ice Devil heritage. He’s a cleric, usually of a setting’s moon goddess (Selûne, Deonora, etc.), and is legally blind. He’s typically soft-spoken, polite, and pleasant to talk to, but can be stubborn and brazen if the situation calls for it. Born to be sassy, forced to be classy.😔 It depends on what setting he appears in, but he typically works as a courtesan and often attracts clients wishing to keep their identity a secret(in his early life he makes a lot of extra money blackmailing clients who think he is more blind than he actually is). In settings where he is older and more wealthy he’s an avid collector of magical and historical artifacts and will often hire adventurers to fetch things for him. Love this guy, he’s so fun, I think I’ve had him as a character since maybe like 2018, maybe 2017? Thankfully he’s been very beloved, so I was not short on finding art of him. <3

My most recent sketch of him is with a werewolf, I thought you’d appreciate that info :)

Khovid Va Otsukimi (World Setting: Deltarra)

This is my warning and reminder to all GMs and OC creators to say your characters names out loud, or mid D&D game you might accidentally end up with a character named Covid, even though it’s not spelled the same way... Khovid Va is Elven and a shopkeeper in the city of Ebon'rana. His shop is called “Glasshopper” and he specializes in selling magical weapons. He’s mute and has a large horizontal scar across the front of his neck, as well as a scar across his left cheek by his mouth and right eyebrow. He can do that cool thing where he can write upside down and does that at his counter to communicate with guests (and show off). His fun trivia and secret lore is that he faked his own death and ran away from his noble family in the Feywild because they wanted him to basically become the next leader of the Autumn Court and he couldn’t take the responsibility. Khovid Va is his full first name! He just has a two-part first name. Yes, I created him in 2020, no I did not realize at the time that I named him Covid until it was too late… I don’t have many drawings of him, but here’s a very small old sketch of him.

Jortly (World Setting: Deltarra)

I actually have very few NPCs who have names starting with J so this took me a sec, but then I was reminded of Jortly (thank you hedgie). Jortly is a Tortle monk and a son of one of my player’s characters. Think about combining a turtle with one of those stretchy blue sticky hand toys and that’s basically Jortly. He talks like he’s so worried all the time and his catchphrase is “Oh gosh”.

Phonoko Silverscribe (World Setting: Trita)

Archivist Phonoko Silverscribe is one of the three head mages of the Harmonic Circle Mage’s Association, and right-hand to the High Mage. He’s an older Aarakocra gentleman with a bit of a nervous demeanor. He and his team are in charge of magical archival information for the association as well as he basically keeps everything in order for the other two top archmages. There’s more to him as well, but I have a couple of my players following me here who are playing in this setting right now, so I can’t reveal too much at the moment, he might be a more relevant character at a later time. :)) this drawing and design of him is by @hedgehogofspades!

Oof ok wow that took a while, thank you for the ask!

#jo’s covid q&a #d&d #d&d 5e #d&d art #dnd npc #Deltarra #Trita #dungeons and dragons #dungeon master #oh mr archmage bird I am thinking about you #Alba is the superior Angel Dust trope character #ogh getting all this together was harder then I thought #sorry for any mistakes I might try to edit later

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science-lings · 1 year

Note

For the writing prompt

Stargazing 🌠🌌

"-and you see those three stars forming an acute triangle?" Zelda pointed at the night sky painted by the colorful goddess lights, the full white moon adding to the impressive twilight illumination.

"That's the head of the King of Red Lions, beneath it are five more points that make up the rest of the boat and you can just make out the triangular sails." She traced the image with her finger in the frigid hebra air.

Link couldn't quite identify the constellation she was describing, but he wasn't looking too hard and kept getting distracted by the multicolored light reflecting off of his companion's face.

He liked to think he had an eye for beauty, more so than people expected of him. He liked to wake up early to enjoy the sunrise and had spent an astounding amount of rupees and recourses into dying all his clothes multiple times simply because he thought the colors were pretty.

So seeing Zelda's face engulfed in shifting light was at the very least, objectively mesmerizing. He couldn't help but stare, it was hopeless to tear his attention back to the stars when their beauty simply couldn't compare to the sight right in front of him.

It was probably obvious, they were huddled together for warmth, despite being wrapped up in the warmest clothes they had on top of some intense heating elixirs. There was no way she didn't notice that he was looking at her and not the stars above them, he was so close to her that he could feel the rumbling of her chest when she spoke about the legends long past. Her fingers were deeply entangled in his hair, which would make her even more aware if he moved.

Thankfully she didn't seem to mind, not when his head rested against her as she explained the relation between the stars found within ancient sheikah chambers and how they changed over ten thousand years, how her favorite constellation was one of a fairy that she used to argue all the stars could look like.

She didn't mind when his eyes slowly blinked shut as she pointed out that her mother's favorite constellation was one in the shape of a large bird, once said to be ridden by their ancestors, she wondered out loud if that's where they got the idea for Vah Medoe, and if they could make a smaller version.

At that point, she stopped talking, probably assuming that he had fallen asleep. He squinted an eye open in mild annoyance, raising his eyebrow as if to say 'did I ask you to stop?'

"I like listening to you talk." He muttered, his voice muffled by the fur from her cloak.

"Oh so you were listening, well then, what's your favorite constellation?" She didn't sound like she believed him, he shifted his head to look at the sky.

"The wolf. In the book of heroes, they have an illustration of him where they use all the little stars to make his ears look extra fluffy." He tried looking for it but all the little white dots started to muddle together in his tired sight.

"You'll have to show me some time..." The princess yawned, resting her head on top of his, "I like listening to you talk too."

"What do you think our constellations would be?" He prompted. She took several minutes to answer, promising a detailed response.

"Honestly? A silent princess. I've always compared myself to one, but I've never really been silent. I think it fits better with both of us. Besides, we're the hero and the princess of the Wild, it would be pretty outlandish to symbolize us as something less... natural."

"I like that... but a dragon would be cool too,"

"Yeah, a dragon would be cool."

Send me prompts?

#they are so beloved to me #zelink #writing prompt #ask andromeda #botw

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igotanidea · 2 years

Text

Morpheus reading his fanfiction pt 2

Here;s the next part of fanfiction reading. Part 1 can be found here

WARNING: I can't believe it <facepalm> SMUT

-Keep your voice down, Dream! Do you want the whole Realm to hear you?

He looked at me with angry pout but did lower his voice

-What do you mean smut section? What even is that?

-Oh, Dream, for an eternal, endless being you can be so oblivious at times. You know smut are the stories when you meet a girl and fall for her.

-I don’t . …

-And God! You are paired with so many different races…..

-Stop it. – he warned

-Humans, witches, fairies, goddesses – y/n rolls her eyes as she’s chanting - I’m pretty sure I even saw a fallen star story somewhere. Not to mention a fan fiction when you got Hob’s daughter pregnant.

-I… I did what? That is outrageous. Not to mention the fact Hob does not have a daughter.

-Are you sure? – I smirked – besides, aren’t you the most tender lover who praises the one who captures his heart – I narrowed my eyes at him playfully – and all the descriptions –I blew a raspberry – I mean.. wow!

-That is enough! – Dream abruptly stood from his chair almost tripping it over. He took a few steps towards me, and got me surprised by the course of action. Damn it! His miscomprehension of personal space making my breath hitch.

-Is it? I thought you wanted to know all about it. It’s still a story and you always said you like a good story.

-Than shall I make you describe it in details? – he asked grabbing my chin forcing me to look at him. Shit! Abort! – I thought to myself knowing well enough my pose was crumbling and I was giving myself away. This wet emo of a cat knew exactly the game he was playing at that moment. There was no way he didn’t notice my blushed cheeks and my heart race fastening.

-Well, wouldn’t you like that? – two can play this game, but it takes a lot of me to stop my legs from trembling and keep my voice cool. As I leaned closer, our faces were merely inches apart, my breath on his face. Just a second that seemed like an eternity before he pulled away and sat back on his chair. That left me with a mix of opposed feelings - satisfaction that I did not break but also some sort of… disappointment. He backed out so easily.

-Talk – Morpheus waved his hand around pretending that he didn’t care anymore. Liar.

-Well – I taped my chin with index finger and started circling the room like a predator hunting a prey – there’s this one particular memorable story. You met a girl, obviously. A female you utterly fell for. But, oh, how sad she did not reciprocate –I was now standing behind his chair pouting in fake sadness. – And what does the Dream Lord do when someone defies him? – I leaned so now I was devilishly whispering in his ear – I think someone may have an opinion on that…..

-y/n … - Dream warned but did not turn or took any action to really stop me

-Thankfully, the author of this story was merciful. So, you, I mean, Lord of Dreams, gave the girl so much love and affection and was simply so caring and gentle that she finally, finally – I emphasized the words- fell for him too. And, god, what a sensual fall it was. It took all night and some part of the day as well, if I remember correctly. After all, an Endeless have much more stamina than any human man.

-This is your last warning.- I may be delusional, but I believe Morpheus’ breath was slightly fastened, eyes glistening with something I could not decipher.

-But you wanted me to describe it – I tilted my head innocently, now standing right in front of him – I’m just following your order. So shall I characterize more? That may be actually hard since from then there were not much words in this story. More like… sounds – I looked at him with smugness all over my face but started laughing immediately.

Dream just sat in his chair with blank, emotionless face, his eyes fixed on some undetermined point in space, emptiness behind them. His arms just fallen by his side. He was even paler than usual, which I did not think possible and did not move for a while which made me chuckle even more.

Oh my god – I thought – I broke him – another giggle escaped my mouth – I literally blew his mind.

It took a couple of minutes of this stillness to actually made me worried. What if I really did broke the Dream Lord? Maybe that was a bit too much teasing for him.

-Dream? – I crouched next to him – Morpheus? Are you ok? – I tried to look into his eyes, my hand resting on his thigh.

No answer.

-Do you want me to tell you another story? – I continued

Nothing. Again.

At this point I started to slightly panic. Should I call Lucienne or Matthew or….?

-Don’t even think about it – he finally hissed, his vision sharpening as he knew exactly that I was considering calling the reinforcement.

-Oh, thank god, I thought you were gone for good.

-Were you worried? – he looks at me teasingly..

-You wish – I scoffed – I wouldn’t want to have a vegetable of a Dream Lord on my hands. Did you manage to wrap your head around this story I was telling? – I asked - Well, that was just the begging, so….

-I think that’s enough – Dream said with shaking voice - please

-Did you just … - I looked at him confused, not believing the word he used – Oh, Dream… - I shook my head at the sight of the mighty Lord of Dreams with watery, sad eyes looking at the floor – Hey, I’m sorry, but you wanted to know.

Silence.

-Why are you acting like this? There’s nothing wrong in those stories. At least not in this kind of smut. The dark, however… - I smirked again, but seeing Morpheus sad face did not finish the sentence.

-I have my own share of sad love stories. It never ends well. So hearing about the ones that actually works….. – he shook his head.

-Come on’ Dream. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You are an eternal being of a thousands of years… you can have your happy ending. Just not while looking like a sad wet cat.

-Mention this once again and I shall not be so understanding – he stopped sulking and looked at me with anger .

-Ok, hey, hold the fire! – I raised my hands in surrender – It brought the effect of knocking you out of your misery, after all. Now come on, I’m sure everyone is looking for their King. And … if I were you.. I would make sure that this section of library is restricted area

-How about I only make it possible for us two to enter here. I might need some sort of further explanation in the future. – he whispered to my ear standing right behind me. Close behind me.

-Explanation, my king? – I asked softly tiling my head just a tad towards him – I don’t think I understand what you mean by that….

-Oh you know perfectly. Is it not what you wanted after all, love?- he lowered his voice and I shivered involuntarily.

Shit. I fell into my own trap. By the way it’s unbelievable how erratic he can be in his behavior. A second ago he was almost crying and now he’s trying to be the man? Shit. Shit.

-So, what do you say? – his hands were now on my waist and I freezed completely. –Hmm? Why so quiet now?

-I… I … - I stuttered but quickly spun around in his arms gathering myself and placing my hands on his neck – from what I know, you like being dominant so why don’t you show me if that’s true, my King.

-I hate you – he hissed and the next thing I knew was his lips on mine. Contrary to what I said to him before he was not rough or dominant at all. There was some particular gentleness and care in all of his action. Almost like I was some delicate, porcelain doll he was afraid to brake. Of course, it was still a kiss full of passion that he was hiding underneath, covering it from the world afraid of letting his guard down. And damn, I was always the one who thought myself unable to be taken by cliché romantics but I was melting under his touch.

-I apologize – he pulled away after a while that seemed both like eternity and a second, for sure not enough. His eyes were shining and he was definitely not sorry for what he did, more like awaiting my reaction. And that was good, because shit I did wanted more.

-Come back here – I whispered pulling him back to me by the lapels of his coat and pressing all my body against him, tangling my hands in his silky hair.

He was quick to reciprocate as he grabbed me tighter than it seemed physically possible. His hands was roaming at my sides playing with the hem of my shirt trying to touch every inch of bare skin he could. Feeling him get rid of the hidden tension I slid my palm underneath his shirt tracing his sculpted muscles. Oh, shit! This is gonna be the end of me – I thought when I felt his soft lips moving towards my neck reaching the soft spot between the collarbone and the shoulder and making me moan.

-There you are – he smirked.

-Don’t you have enough of this? – I groaned impatiently. My most sensitive part was already pumping and aching feeling and well, hoping for what was coming.

-No – he muttered against my skin moving lower and lower and…. – you had your fair share of teasing so why shouldn’t I?

-Morpheus! – I grabbed his hair so I could look him in the eyes – do not test my patience, now.

-Tell me what you want then. Tell me exactly what you want. – God, his eyes, his voice, his lips…... What was he doing to me? It was like my whole rational thinking just flew out of the window. It was only him and me.

-I want you to touch me. I want to feel you whole. I want to know you want me as bad as I want you now.

-I do – he moved back to my lips whispering between kissed – I want you. I want to worship you like a goddess you are.

-Less talking, more action – I whispered back.

He smirked and without taking a single step, in the blink of an eye, we were in private chambers. Well, calling it a chamber may be a bit much since the only furniture there was really the king sized bed. Truly, the only necessary one. Without breaking the kiss which was becoming more and more heated Morpheus was walking me backwards towards it, holding me flush against him to prevent me from falling. Laying me down on the soft cushions and silky sheets may have been the most intimate moment I’ve ever experienced and we were only starting.

-Morpheus – I gasped when he climbed on top of me, slowly pulling my shirt up

-I love it when you say my name – he whispered freeing me of my bra and starting unbuttoning my pants along with underwear – say it again – he kissed my inner thigh which did not stop his hands from massaging my breast causing heat waves to roll through my body

-Morpheus – I moaned unable to control myself. - this is not fair - I tugged at his coat trying to slid it of him. With a single thought he made the clothes disappear and the view made me shiver again.

-You are divine. – he slowly moved towards the place when I needed him most. I can’t believe I needed some stories to actually make a move – he started working on my clit and it send me over the edge. No coherent phrase in my mind, almost like my brain just shut off leaving the place only for the senses and the overwhelming pleasure.

-Please – I begged him – please, get to the point.

-You are so impatient, my love – Dream left my soft spot and started moving up, leaving a trail of kissed on my stomach, breast, neck and finally capturing my lips again. It was just a couple of minutes and I’ve already missed their feeling on mine.

-Don’t tell me I’m the only one – I smirked, eyes closed feeling him hardened at my entrance.

-Impatient and cheeky. Open your eyes, I want to see your emotions. Each of your perfect features. Tell me, does it feel good? – he slightly moved forward preparing me for entering.

-Oh, shit, this is … this is…

-Tell me – he attacked my neck again sucking the delicate skin and leaving marks there and I immediately tangled my fingers in his hair pulling a little and making him groan.

-Overwhelming.

-Good – he muttered and with one thrust entered me.

-Oh, fuck! – I screamed but he was quick to shut my mouth with his own, picking up on the pace. I started to writhe and wince underneath him fully at his mercy.

-Does it make you hurt, love? - he asked with concern seeing my expression.

-No! no, just move faster, please. I’m so… close. Give me all, please. Please.

-I will. You shall have it all.

-Oh, God, Dream, I’m yours, please don’t stop. Please, I …. – I gasped when I finally reached my high. Stars exploded, worlds collided and I could not care less if anyone heard me when I came and screamed his name at the top of my lungs. Dream followed me soon after exploding inside, fulfilled. We both got what we wanted even if it was in the most unexpected way. I was lying on my back desperately trying to catch my breath when I felt Morpheus’ arms sneak around me pulling me close to his chest.

-Shh. Shh, my love. I’m here. I;m yours now as you are mine –he was gently stroking my messy hair bringing me down to earth - How are you feeling? Was it good? – he kissed my temple rubbing my back.

-I feel …. happy – I simply said – cherished. Satisfied.

-Loved? – he whispered causing me to prop myself on the elbow to look at him carefully. Was he serious?

-I though you didn’t need love?

-I never said that.

-But…

-I only mentioned that my love stories never ended well.

-Quite a moment to reminiscent on that. – I muttered pouting

-Apologies. – he pulled me in again – My imprisonment changed me and I really am hoping I could turn the fate around. Hopefully, you will be there to help me. I do not intend on letting you go. The question is – will you have me?

-I will – I whispered – like Hell I will. – I promised

-Thank you. – he rubbed his nose against mine – I think I was holding back what I feel for you for too long

Who knew that fanfiction would be the spark you needed. – I smiled as he pulled me closer and we just stayed like that enjoying the moment of intimacy. This was a beginning of something that was yet to be determined.

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oneprompt · 2 years

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Hello hello, Im sorry to hear about your recent ER visit and wish you all the best for a speedy <3 I know there really isnt a way to rest in there, especially when the nurses and attendants are checking in every 10 seconds. If you are feeling up to it, do you mind writing a small scenario with King and a fem reader (enemies to lovers I’m thinking) and how it would play out? Your health comes first so if you’re not able to do it I understand. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day :)

authors note : ya ;; but thankfully , i wasnt in there for too long <3 jm just on meds right now , and im recovering at home .. this was certainly a fun prompt , i hope you enjoy the way i executed it ..! <3 lysm

extra : reader is 14ft (because if you were average human height , that’d be extremely odd .)

warning : this came out pretty risque :(( my apologies ..! my brain is rather .. jumbled today.

King x F! Rival! Reader

“Must you always act this way, oiran?” King stared down at you, burly arms crossed over his tight chest. You hated whenever King called you oiran, reminding you of the life you once led back in Wano Kuni. And he knew how much you hated it.

“Does it bother you, my dearest lunarian?” And you did just the same back, throwing the shame of King’s past right in his face. You loved seeing his change in mannerisms, his large body closing away like a pathetic little songbird. There was nothing you loved more then making King upset, prying away at his most fragile nerves.

Under any other society, you’d be viewed as nothing but a dreadful woman. You were ran out of Wano for your cruelty towards others. But not here, not in Onigashima. Instead, you were praised for your sadistic ways, the way you could hurt a person to their very core. After seeing you make man after man spiral into despair, Kaido couldn’t help but hold you in his good graces. How fascinating you were, not having to dirty your hands but still being entirely capable of ending a life. You managed to amaze the emperor with your wrath, enough for him to take you in as one of his commanders.

That’s why King hated you oh so much. You got everything you could ever dream of served on a silver platter. Everybody else had to work for their place, sacrificing their lives for Kaido to even glance their way. But not you. No, of course not! King hated nothing more then the fortunate. You had a luxurious life in Wano, and an even more privileged one in Onigashima. Tsk.

Even with no more connections to an oiran lifestyle, you were still styled as one. Your hair was always in a fancy up-do, a pricey obi snatching your waist, thousands of berries worth of pink silk engulfing your body... This was pure nepotism. No, favoritism! And for what? Because you were a little bit pretty?

“Don’t get cocky, Y/n.” King grunted, voice gruff as he uncrossed his arms. “I won’t go easy on you.”

King was a cool man, often capable of keeping his composure in any situation. But all reason was thrown out the window the moment he’d make contact with those bambi eyes of yours, eyes that begged to be worshipped like an absolute Goddess. That may work on those Tobi Roppo idiots, and perhaps even master Kaido... but not on King. They never would... Never.

“Oh, yes?” You glanced upward at King, casually resting a palm along his chest, palm soothing the black leather. “And what if I don’t want you to, Arber?” You batted your lashes, plush lips pulled up in an innocent smile. You held back a taunting chuckle, continuously fluttering your mascara covered lashes.

In just a matter of seconds, you were shoved straight onto your back, slamming against the desk in King’s business quarters. Pages upon pages of financial letters flew down, cascading across the floor. You held back from making a peep as your spine grinded hard against the solid wood desk, not wanting to give King the satisfaction of intimidating you.

Your glittery eyelids opened, meeting the man above you. King was heaving, shoulders withering as he squeezed your wrists between his gloved digits. What a sight to behold. The most collected man of Onigashima, shaking and panting above you. Knowing you held such power to drive King to such lengths made you feel more superior then ever.

“Call me that again and i’ll slit your throat. Got that?” One of King’s hands grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking on it ever so slightly. Strands of your hair escaped your elaborate styling, making your appearance much more messier then the prim imagine it was, moments prior. Something about your disheveled appearance made King warm up, the way your kimono fell from your shoulders, exposing the nape of your neck just the slightest bit. Nothing could be a more attractive vision, could it?

Men are so bad at hiding their desires, aren’t they? As a former oiran, you’re bound to notice these things. The change of expression, mannerisms... You could tell King wanted you. He wanted you bad.

With not a lick of hesitation, you knotted your legs around King’s waist, pushing him closer to your lap. Your rivaling aesthetics collided, providing the upmost perfect replica of the both of you: messy, uncomplimentary of one another, You stared up at King, his eyes half lidded as he was pushed up against you even more so now.

“I don’t think murdering me is what you want most from me right now... Is it?” You cooed to the older man, pushing yourself upward, your chests now rubbing against each other. You could feel his heart bashing against you, even behind all those ribs, all that flesh, all that...clothing.

King didn’t utter a single word, instead just offering you a slight nod of head. Perfect. You had him right where you wanted him; in the palm of your hand. You knew it was a matter of time before King came around, falling captive to your charm. He was just as easy as anybody else, no matter how hard he tried to ignore his manly instincts.

“Don’t just sit there,” you spoke up, a seductive grin splayed across your intoxicating features. “Get undressed.”

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silverskye13 · 2 years

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This is going to be random so you can ignore me if you want lol but do you have any book recommendations? I want to know where the rawness of your writing comes from,,,, it's just idk you write their voices perfectly and describe feelings better than I can feel them, I'm honestly intrigued who are your references tbh lmao

Oh noooo an excuse to talk about my favorite books! I will try really really hard to stay on topic and not gush too much. I've also got a few just, general tips for getting better at description I'll throw under the cut as well, since description and voice are things I'm actively practicing and I've found some things that helped me.

Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames

[CW: Violence, gore, cursing, sexual themes, stereotypical high fantasy racism]

High fantasy novel about a band of heroes called Saga who used to be really cool - about 30 years ago. Now they're old and a bit washed up, and Clay Cooper is honestly pretty happy to be that way, until his old band leader Golden Gabe shows up on his doorstep saying his daughter is in danger and begging for help.

Nicholas Eames is honestly my biggest inspiration. He's stellar at description, and using tropes and stereotypes to his advantage. His books also have an incredible sense of humor. One thing he's really good at is phrases like "The wheat was golden as the Spring Maiden's hair," which is description informative of the world [The wheat field is gold and ready to harvest which gives us the time of year, there is a goddess named the Spring Maiden who is a major deity in this area, she is known for her blonde hair. These are three things we now know about the world that inform us about the setting that he never has to state outright].

Bloody Rose by Nicholas Eames

[CW: Violence, gore, sex and general debauchery you'd associate with a rock band going on tour, cursing, stereotypical fantasy racism]

Bloody Rose is Golden Gabe's daughter, the best fighter to have ever lived -- and she has a death wish. Fortunately, or unfortunately, she also needs a bard to chronicle her band's exploits. Thus our main character gets to enter the plot.

I'm gonna be honest, as far as characters go, I didn't like this one as much as Kings of the Wyld, but it's still got his stellar description, works on some of the themes in the first book I thought needed elaboration, and is also very, very gay [MC is a lesbian and flustered surrounded by so many hot women, send help]. This book is very much a character study on how flawed a person can be and still be considered a hero. Also addresses the issue of "Is enslaving sentient monsters to fight in coliseums morally wrong?" that KotW posed but never really answered.

The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher

[CW: horror, some swearing, descriptions of skeletal remains]

Hi I'm a horror nut at heart. The Twisted Ones is a... Hmm... I wouldn't call it cosmic horror per say, but it's definitely got some existential fae-style horror going on. Our protagonist has to go clean out her grandmother's house when she passes away, and learns there's something... Wrong... With the property. There are creatures in the woods, and an insidious thing they're guarding. Thankfully she has a dog to keep her company. [And I'll tell you now, the dog doesn't die, so put that particular fear at ease]. T. Kingfisher also writes fantasy but I've only read her horror. I need to read more of her stuff.

I don't have any descriptions from this book written down [I read it before I made my descriptions doc] but one from The Hollow Places I really liked was "We were standing on the skin of a soap bubble," to talk about how the two characters would snap and go insane if they talked about or thought about their situation any more. Kingfisher is really, really good at writing tension.

The Blacktongue Thief by Christopher Buelman

[CW: Violence and gore, a lot of innuendos, a lot of calling out certain body parts as swears and insults. This is definitely a more mature read. Also implied sexual assault and cannibalism. This is pretty grimdark for fantasy.]

Not actually one of my favorite books but it had some really good stuff going for it so it makes the list. The Blacktongue Thief is about a thief who tries to rob the wrong woman, and ends up joining her on a mission to save a lost princess. They get caught up in a pretty big conspiracy in the process.

If you want a really good example of description as character voice, this is it. Kinch Na Shannuck is our POV character and his voice is in every description of every person and place. Unfortunately, he also speaks in euphemisms often, and his brain is constantly in the toilet, so for me that voice got grating. Still, you always knew who was telling you about what was going on [and at turns he would actually speak to the audience, which was neat]. Had such prize phrases as "She leaned casually against the counter, like she wasn't aware she was a threat made flesh."

Also there was some really cool worldbuilding in this one? A world where goblin wars have wiped out most of the men and made heroes of most women? How every man Kinch's age is a draft dodger specifically for those reasons? A disease that wiped out all the horses, and how that's actually a pretty major plot point? Also tattoo magic?? Really, really cool tattoo magic.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

I just love this book tbh. It also has good description, really good at talking about haunting loneliness, really relatable main character. But also it's just a comfort read for me. I love it. It's beautiful. I have a running vendetta against authors who've tried to rewrite it "but better" only to churn out filth instead. There’s a longer rant here about how horror treats queer people and women that I’ll keep to myself for now but I could write a 10pg thesis on it. Suffice it to say I’ve yet to find a book that does haunted house horror better than Shirley Jackson, as far as addressing complex topics through haunted houses goes. This is also one of the few books I’d say had a really good TV show adaptation? The Haunting of Hill House TV series on Netflix was really, really good at addressing the sense of terminal loneliness Shirley Jackson was discussing in her original book while also almost completely changing the source material. It’s a good adaptation, just don’t go into it thinking it’s the book. It’s really it’s own story with borrowed names.

There’s many many more but I’ll end the list here. These are at least the most recent books I’ve read that I’ve really picked apart and studied for what I like about description in them. Honorable mentions are The Lord of the Rings, The Child of the Dark Prophesy / The Great Tree of Avalon Trilogy, anything Darcey Coates has ever written, The Ranger’s Apprentice Series, Frank Peretti’s YA books.... I read a lot. I’ve gone through stints of reading so much in the past I didn’t realize a book I’d picked up was one I’d read before until I was a few chapters in and recognized the familiarity.

Personal tips on writing description

Start a description document. Seriously this has helped me a ton. It’s a writing tip I’ve heard repeated several places and only recently started doing, but it’s helped immensely. It forces you to catalogue what you like about description and gives you a continued reference for what good description is, so you’re not necessarily trying to describe something from whole-cloth every time. If you own books and don’t mind marking them up, you can even take a highlighter to your personal favs when they throw some good phrases in there.

If anyone is interested in seeing my personal description doc, DM me [or message me on Discord, if we know each other there] and I’ll get a google drive link set up for you. It’s a good resource I swear by now.

Another thing I think is useful is just, when you start to feel big emotions, or you’re standing somewhere you want to describe in a book later, take a few minutes to describe them for yourself. It can be simple things, like driving into the sun and thinking about how that light feels on your face, or feeling happy and giving yourself words you could compare it to. [Coincidentally, if you’re like me and you sometimes have issues with panic attacks and dissociation, this works as a grounding exercise. Describe how your skin feels against fabric, how your breath and heartbeat feel in your chest, the light through the window, the sound of the wind]. But you’d be amazed the things you come up with spur of the moment, when you’re in the middle of feeling something. Wax poetic for the fun of it. Pretend you’re monologing for an audience in a theater somewhere. I have a lot of fun looking at the old factories around here and picking them apart in my head for descriptions.

As for the Hermits specifically, nailing down voices for them, it’s really handy that they have all these videos of them talking. Take some time, listen to one or two of their videos, and chart their speech patterns. You don’t have to take physical notes, but just recognizing little things is helpful.

Tango is an easy example. The man makes intelligable noises and says things like “murder-ificater” and “flee with extra flee!” Peppering in just one or two of his speech-isms sets his voice in your head.

Cub repeats things for emphasis, and speaks in false formality a lot. “Exactly! Exactly.” “Ladies and gentlemen, how are we doing today?”

Gem speaks like she’s trying to live in cottagecore at all times, which makes her feel a little insidious when she’s getting up to mischief. A smiling voice that describes things as “Pretty!” and “Cute!” and intentionally hesitates over unpleasant things “Well that’s... uh... unfortunate.” feels tonally dissonant when she also does things like sniping her friends with a bow from a distance.

To me Joe and Hypno are incredibly hard to write for because of this, because Hypno has a very neutral voice [his most recognizable vocal tick is saying “Mm-hmm!” to conclude sentences] and Joe has a very unpredictable voice, intentionally. He likes subverting expectations, both in sentence ending [random rhymes, turning things suddenly into poetry or song, replacing words with close approximations that mean something different] and in his reactions to things. He’s hard to pin down.

Anyway I’ve been working on this too long. I hope this helps!

#the barking writer #spazzcat barks #answering asks #anonymous #writing tips #writing advice #book recs

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zeldaelmo · 1 year

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The Pen Pal Plan, chapter 2

The poet, or His Lameness, as Zelda had named him due to his noble status, was only the beginning of the misery. Patiently, Zelda had smiled through a conversation with a man who only spoke in recited lines of poetry. No matter what topic Zelda picked, he always had a matching string of poetic words as his reply. At first, Zelda tried to keep up with him and name the poems or at least take a guess at the poet or the century of its origin, but that quickly grew unbearable. And the worst was, he just wouldn't stop! Her guards already tapped their feet nervously, eager to keep her on schedule, but every attempt to end the doomed meeting failed. In the end, she had proposed a performance on the Speaker's Corner of the fair and had quietly slipped away as soon as he couldn't see her in the crowd of onlookers anymore.

Not a very princess-like start in her adventure to find a husband, but what could she do? She had no plans to miss the next date for a man she didn't care for in the slightest.

Ears attentive to the church bells, Zelda squeezed her way through the people, hood pulled deep around her face. She would make it in time. The booths of the festival glittered and shone with promising wares, carnival barkers praised their goods and tried to rope her in, but she couldn't afford to take a look. Maybe later, but certainly not right now.

The guards tried to keep up with her, but when she finally arrived at the meeting point and they trickled after her into the wine booth, one by one, she thought they'd lost one of them. Well, four were still more than enough, right?

"The Princess! I can’t believe my eyes!"

Zelda swirled around, staring into the face of the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Black curls fell loosely down to his shoulders and his big nose complimented his sharp jar in a way that she couldn't find another word for as manly. His fashionable scarf only added to this impression. Whoa, and he dropped into a bow and kissed her knuckles! Now that was a lot more promising… but then, he opened his mouth.

"Oh my goodness, Zelly, I adore you so much. Thank you for all your letters, I totally went crazy about them! It’s so cool that you’re here and not! With the magic, I mean." He waved a bundle of letters with a rose stringed to them into her face, widening his eyes to the point of ridiculousness. She forced a smile. Did… he just call her Zelly? Reluctantly, she accepted a mug with hot plum wine from him, sniffing warily at the beverage. It smelled like sweet plums and cinnamon, but weren't most poisons without odor?

"I totally slept with your letters under my pillow. I know it’s a secret to everyone, but I couldn’t help to show them to everyone in my village. So romantic to have a magical princess in a secluded tower as a pen pal. I’m so happy that you reached out for help. I would have never found you otherwise."

She– what? Goddess, she had trouble keeping up with the utter nonsense that fell out of his mouth. "Uh, I have a very normal wing in the castle where I live," she stuttered. "No tower that I can't leave or something. As long as I have my guards around, I can go pretty much everywhere." She made eye contact over the brim of her steaming mug with one of them. The middle-aged man nodded and readjusted the grip on his spear. She wasn’t the only one who got odd vibes from this guy.

He leaned forward and reduced his voice to a whisper. "Ah, yes, I understand, too many people to overhear. It’s okay.” A wave into the general direction of the castle. “I'm not a knight or something, but I trained with the sword a lot. I’m going to fight my way through to you, no matter how many roses and thorns block the way to your tower."

The sip Zelda took was much too hot, but she downed it anyway. Thankfully, nothing of notice happened, so probably no poison. What was wrong with him? His letters hadn't been noteworthy – normal, polite conversation. He had been excited at the news of finally meeting her, but hadn’t they all been? His chosen pen name had been ‘Youngling of the Roses’, maybe that should have made her stop in her tracks, but then again, most of the pen names were a bit… stupid.

She shook her head. “Okay, to make this clear. I don’t live in a secluded tower. I’m as free as a princess gets and there’s absolutely no need to rescue me or fight anyone.”

He laughed and Zelda caught herself being again mesmerized by his handsomeness, but that couldn’t put a blanket over the feeling of talking to a weirdo.

“You don’t have to put a brave face on for me, Zelly. I’m ready to come to your side any minute now and then you can finally leave your tower and we’ll have a glittering feast for our wed—”

“Stop.” Zelda held her hands up and took a step backward. “You somehow got the wrong idea here—” Damn it, she didn’t even have his name. Maybe it was for the better. “I don’t want you to come to the castle on a rescue mission. I don’t need rescuing because I’m not trapped in a tower. As you can see, I’m here and I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh? So you mean, this is not a mirage that you produce with your magic from your tower to talk to me?”

Zelda stared at him and needed a long moment to answer. “No. It’s most definitely not.”

His eyes wide, he slowly stretched his hand out, reaching for her face.

“Enough!” The guard with whom Zelda made eye contact earlier stepped in, pushing the hilt of the spear into the space between them. “Your Highness, I advise you to leave immediately, for your own safety.”

“Agreed,” Zelda hissed through gritted teeth. “Thank you.”

She swirled around and grabbed her hood, looking for the remaining three guards. They made a gap for her to retreat through, spears at the ready. Uh, maybe the vibes of this guy had been more off than she’d realized, the guards were usually pretty chill.

“Hey, Zelly! But what about the wedding! Wait!” A tumult erupted behind her and she let herself push toward the entrance of the wine booth by her guards all too willingly. Skies above, this whole plan was a disaster!

With quick strides, she left the booth and reentered the busy streets. Shouts rang through the wooden, make-shift hut behind her. She shivered, pulling the hood back into her face. She would have to alert the head of the castle guard about this man, who knew if he wouldn’t try to ‘free’ her for real.

“This way, Your Highness,” one of the guards muttered and led her into a less crowded side alley. “We’ll take the long way to our next destination, just in case he follows us.”

Zelda nodded, her mouth dry. The crisp winter air failed to cool her head down. She was used to going everywhere with guards, but it was rare that they had to deal with an issue. Times in Hyrule were peaceful, her mother and she only used their magic for mundane things, like letting tea cups appear at unusual spots or lighting chandeliers, not for sealing evil incarnate away.

“Will your comrade be okay? I’m sorry that I didn’t see enough red flags beforehand. His behavior was unexpected for me, too,” Zelda said, scurrying through the alley after them, her clicking heels resonating from the narrow walls.

“Avon? Yeah, he’ll be okay, don’t worry. He’s a skilled soldier.” The guard chuckled and took her hand to pull her through a barrier back into the festival area. “He has a soft spot for you because you remind him of his daughter. He’ll take a broken nose for you with great pride.”

“Oh, goodness, please not!”

He winked at her. “Just another story to tell in the barracks. Let’s hope the remaining two guys are a bit more marriage material than the last two.”

Zelda ducked her head and blushed furiously. She knew that the guards overheard more than they cared for, but she still felt exposed being directly addressed about something like her pick of suitors.

“Come on, Your Highness. We’re already late. Your next stop is the carousel if I’m not mistaken?”

She nodded, threading after him through the people. The professor was next. And then… cautiously, she lifted her hood and peeked at the papery Silent Princess. And then, him. She had held off herself thinking too much about him the whole day, not wanting to get her hopes up. “It is an honor to finally officially meet you, Princess,” he had written. “I very much look forward to talking to you.” Simple words, not too different from what the others had written. They still had touched her.

"Your Highness?" The guard guided her toward another booth with a soft press on the small of her back. "The carousel. And I believe your suitor already awaits you." He nodded in the direction of a man pushing his glasses up and waving a single letter.

"Thank you–," she started, but the guard had already disappeared to discuss the details with the carousel owner. Zelda inhaled the icy winter air, steeling herself.

Hopefully, this one would go better…

#zelink #legend of zelda #advent calendar #zeldaelmo writes #Day 17 #the pen pal plan

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beevean · 2 years

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Thoughts on Castlevania: A teenager Dracula's isekai adventure against the Idea of Evil feat. the power of friendship?

Not even the Dark Lord is safe from The Power of Friendship :P

So this is technically the second time I play Aria of Sorrow. The first time, I got to Graham without all the prerequisite souls, and the idea of backtracking made me abandon the game lmao. So that says something.

The second time was much more fun :P

AoS is a good game. It didn’t wow me like PoR, it wasn’t as intriguing as OoE, but I had a good, consistent time. You know I'm having a good time when I don't write much beforehand :P

The level design of the castle is what left me the most impressed. It's pretty big, and you have to backtrack quite a few times, but I never felt lost, because I could easily remember places I couldn’t go to and why. Oh, I have the double jump, well there were some high platforms there; oh, I can walk on water, I remember a place that I couldn’t jump to when I could only float. Only one time I felt like wasting time, and it was when I got the sliding ability and I remembered an Ancient Book I couldn’t get in the Inner Study; that Book is near an area I couldn’t access yet, and I had to backtrack all the way back out of the Study and out of the Chapel. Thankfully, the teleporters are smartly placed everywhere else. There was a lot of thought behind it. As for the areas, I like some more than others, but I never thought "oh no, now I have to go through here". The Floating Gardens are where I struggled the most due to the unconventional way of navigating them, but they're cool so it's okay.

The Underground Reservoir is an odd area too. It’s, by far, the biggest map in the game:

(for comparison, a standard map)

But that entire upper right part? Completely optional. You just need to drop to the exist in the lower left corner. I don’t think you even need to defeat Legion! You only use the power of Galamoth to find the second Ancient Book. Technically, if you already know what you have to do, you can skip it! Only SOTN did a similar thing with the Clock Tower. I don't know how to feel about optional areas lol.

The big drawing point of this game is the Soul System, and... how do I say this? The thing is that, unlike Shanoa who takes the whole game before becoming powerful, Soma is pretty strong from the beginning and he finds some very cool weapons throughout the game. Simply put, I rarely felt the need to use anything other than my strongest sword (although the temptation to use a gun was strong ngl). It doesn’t help that some souls take a long time to farm - to get into the Forbidden Area, I spent 5 minutes grinding for the soul of a Curly (an enemy you find early on in the game - I guess that it should be called Kali like the Hindu goddess?), and let me tell you, it’s not fun. It was the same reason I dropped AoS on my first playthrough. (the Curly Soul is pretty sick though, ngl, and the trip was worth it, because Claimh Solais is the Crissaegrim of this game <3)

I think my favorite souls are the Flame Demon, Baur, Death, Succubus, Triton and Headhunter :) and of course the bat lol, little white Soma bat is so cute

The way to unlock the good ending is slightly cryptic until you understand the logic. You need to fight Graham equipped with the Giant Bat soul (which you gain automatically), the Flame Demon soul (which you find either in the optional Underground Cemetery or the secret Forbidden Area), and the Succubus soul (which you find in the the Top Floor or in one room in the Arena... uhm, "chilling" with a Lilith?). The idea is that these three Souls have Dracula’s powers: turning into a bat, firing three fireballs, and absorbing enemies’ HP, a power displayed by Alucard and Dracula in later games. Once you understand, it makes perfect sense, and you even find three books hinting at this, but it still requires some intuition and a general amount of farming. I'd say it's pretty balanced and rewards your intelligence, but I hope your LCK status is high enough.

As for the second half of the game? Sorry, but after the joy that the Dracula Castle was in OoE, this one was disappointing. The Chaotic Realm, ironically, is a pretty boring place. It’s all washed out, the map is pretty much a spiral to the center, and there aren’t any new enemies. I can't help but seeing the mishmash of rooms all over the castle as assets recycling. The music is pretty bland too, it wants to be creepy but it just reminds me of Behind the Gaze from PoR.

However, Julius’ boss fight slaps (almost literally lol) and it’s the highlight of the game. No wonder people turned him into a badass! Also man, that bad ending! Short, but effective.

As for the story, it's interesting enough. Poor Soma went from being a random guy with an outrageous amount of drip to being the reincarnation of Dracula himself! I really, really like his design, all white, which can be seen as pure or deathly depending on your culture. I also felt for him when he insisted that he wanted nothing to do with Dracula and his castle and his powers. I can't wait to see what he will do in DoS :)

Difficulty wise, I also think it's well balanced. Soma is more resilient than you might think, he levels up pretty fast, and as I said many weapons are very strong. However I never felt like I was breaking the game. I probably can, but I'd need to grind more :P

The graphics are pretty! I don't have much to say. It's a nice, detailed artstyle that tries to replicate the one in SOTN with the more limited resources. Love all the shots with the big moon! I appreciate how there's no screen crunch at all, which was a common issue in GBA games: Soma's sprite is small enough, and the speed is fast enough.

Not super fond of the OST, though. The soundfont isn’t the best the GBA can produce, to say the least, even at the time - in the same year, Megaman Zero 2 came out, and I mean. Some of the tracks stuck in my head, like Castle Corridor, Clock Tower and Top Floor, all super catchy, but others slid off my head until I replayed, like Study or Dance Hall. The boss theme is annoying too :\ I rediscovered Chapel and Undeground Reservoir, though, they're very pleasant to listen to. And Heart of Fire is the good shit <3

So, I don't have much else to add. I had fun, and that's really it! I bet that it would have looked even more impressive had I played Circle of the Moon and Harmony of Dissonance before, but even without them on my belt, I can tell that this was an impressive game, and one built on replayability thanks to the Soul system. So yeah, I see why it's so beloved.

#castlevania #aria of sorrow

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bouquins · 2 years

Text

love at first check: a tale (pt. two)

Part I

The long awaited part two under the cut!

“...And that’s how it’s done!” I grin as I virtually mated Joe’s king. It wasn’t too hard—his king was smothered by his friendly pieces, leaving his king with no room to maneuver.

“You’re a real bastard,” Joe says, shaking his fist at the screen. I could only smirk in response.

“Maybe if you actually developed those pieces, you wouldn’t have lost.” I shrug even as he scowled.

Joe simply throws his hands in the air. “If only my opponent wasn’t the goddess of chess, maybe I’d have a chance,” he said, placing a hand on his forehead in mock annoyance.

“I am not!” I shake my head, even as I grin at our ongoing gag. “At least, no one’s dedicated a sacrifice to me yet.” I pout while Joe can only chuckle into his mug of questionable liquid content.

As we played against each other in the following weeks since our first engagement, we slowly but surely began to learn about each other. Most of the basics have been covered: where we live (he lives in Ohio; I live in D.C.); what we do (he does something related to “sports” and “travels for work”, I do “cyber and infrastructure stuff”); where we went to college (he went to LSU, whereas I went to Loyola in New Orleans). The last hurdle to cross was, funnily enough, names—or rather, mine.

“Well, if you aren’t the goddess of chess, then tell me your real name,” Joe replies with narrowed eyes. I can only shake my head as we go over the same old spiel.

“Once you beat me, I’ll tell you! That’s how it works. As you have yet to win a game, that will have to wait.” I smile while Joe loudly sighs in desperation.

Perhaps it is unfair that I know more about Joe than he does about me. The wager started as a joke. Joe, the eternal extrovert, was an open book—everything about him laid bare for me to read. I, meanwhile, was a bit more cautious. Sure, he may learn some rather broad strokes about myself, but anything deeper was a different matter. One of the first things we discussed was our usernames. Joe’s naturally reflected his name; mine was a different matter altogether.

“Oh, you know, I’m ‘Joe Brrr’ because I’m cool under pressure,” he said. “And sixty-nine because it’s the best number,” he added with a smirk. “What about you? Caissa is a nice name.”

“It is a nice name,” I agreed. “But it isn’t my real name—it’s just the name of the fictional goddess of chess.”

“There’s a goddess of chess?!”

“No, it’s just a fictional goddess, but I sure wish she was real,” I nodded. “it’s at least better than my given name.” Shit—why did I say that? I moved my hands to my mouth and hoped my face’s imminent reddening wasn’t too obvious through the screen.

Joe’s eyebrows raised and he tilted his head in thought. “So, what is your name? It can’t be that bad.” He stared at me; his brows furrowed in incredulity.

“It really is,” I grumbled. “It’s so bad that if given the chance to time travel back to kill Hitler or have my parents change my name, I’m pretty sure I’d see my parents.” I could hear Joe chuckle as I rubbed my eyes into my hands.

“I won’t poke fun of it, I promise,” Joe finally responded in a softer voice. “I won’t tell a soul.” I shook my head—I simply couldn’t comply with his request.

“Well…” I considered for a moment. How could I prolong this? “If you ever beat me in a game, I’ll tell you. How about that?”

Joe swiveled his chair in thought. “I suppose I can hang in suspense for another week.” He tapped his finger against his lips in a small smile.

Joe and I virtually shook hands, and that was that. We have been playing for a month now, and he still hasn’t beat me. At first our routine was merely a way for me to retard the inevitable reveal of my name, but now it’s a game between us—I feel like Scheherazade delaying the ending of her nightly stories, but thankfully I’m not at risk of death when I finish the tale. At this point, a reveal feels anti-climatic; why not let it go on forever? I can at least pretend it will.

“Alrighty then, Caissa, if that’s your real name,” Joe says. “Can’t wait to learn it next week.”

“And next week I’ll beat you, again!” I wag my finger at my opponent before we log off. I do appreciate him being a good sport about it—and who knows?

Perhaps he’ll win next time. Perhaps not.

_________________________________________________________

Ping!

I look down and check my phone and see a chess meme from Joe. I chuckle and send one back. As I put my phone back into my pocket, I apologize to my tea date for the interruption.

“Who ever it is who’s been buzzing you all afternoon, it must be someone interesting! It’s certainly been a while since I saw you so glued to your phone.” Alice giggled over her teacup. What was supposed to be a regular afternoon tea and gossip catch-up between old friends turned into a conversation interrupted by intermittent pings and buzzes emitting from my phone, all from one singular source.

“Oh, it’s just a friend I made playing chess,” I dismiss her curiosity and grab a finger sandwich from the tiered tray.

“A friend, or a friend?” Alice waggles her brows, and I can’t help but grimace and cough into my teacup at her innuendo.

“Really, he’s just a friend—”

“A friend who whenever he messages you, a big old smile pops onto your face.” Alice folds her arms and leans forward, almost dipping her hair into her teacup in excitement. “Is he cute—I bet he is!”

“Yes, he’s pretty cute,” I admit. Alice begins to respond in glee, but I cut her off. “Just because he’s cute doesn’t mean he thinks I’m cute. Besides, he lives in Ohio, so it’s not like anything can happen.”

Alice shakes her head in clear disagreement. “That’s what long-distance relationships are for, duh! Never say never.” She sipped her tea and continued. “Besides, who is he anyway? You know, what’s his name? What does he do?”

After giving the rundown of our interactions up to that point, Alice sits back in her chair contemplating the information she received. She nibbles on a scone and says, “He sounds like a nice guy for you! At least he’s patient—I can’t believe you still haven’t told him your name, and that he’s going along with it!”

“But it’s an awful name! It—“I catch myself yelling, and quickly compose myself. It wouldn’t do to make a scene during tea. In a quieter voice, I continue, “it rhymes with queef!” I almost tip over my teapot in a frustrated attempt to calm myself with another cup and squeeze my eyes shut in embarrassment.

Alice reaches over to pat my hand in consolation. “Caoimhe is perfectly fine name! It’s like a name for a sexy, mysterious Irish sorceress who the hero needs to beat at chess in order to get her golden fleece or something.” She tilts her head in thought and concedes, “though I do admit your name was pretty funny when I first heard it.” In a more serious tone, she adds, “If this Joe guy is as nice as he seems, I’m sure he won’t poke fun.” She pats my hand again for good measure.

“You and everyone else,” I roll my eyes. Even though Alice is being a bit too supportive, I suppose she has a point. My Scheherazade routine is getting stale. Poor Joe is probably too polite to ask me to retire the joke, even if it is rather entertaining motivation to see if he can beat me at a game. I reach for another petit four and reply, “I guess I’ll tell him next week, regardless if he wins or not. He probably won’t.” I reach out for another one—these are addictive! “Just so we’re even, of course.” Well, maybe we’d be even if he, by some miracle, managed to stack enough wins against me, but who needs to be pedantic?

I just hope I don’t lose my head.

#joe burrow #fanfiction #fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #Chess #joe burrow fic

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allisonbaelfire · 3 years

Text

NYX

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Nyx was a legend, others referred to her as a myth of a bygone era, but so was the Winter Soldier once. The two shared a common past and now a common mission. However, their feelings for one another could danger their goal.

Word Count: 4,403

Authors Note: This story is inspired by the Marvel Comics with Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanoff and Falcon and the Winter Soldier Series.

+ nyx = /Nýx/ - the Greek goddess (or personification) of the night. A shadowy figure.

____________________________________

“I was their secret weapon...or at least I was one of them. She was another. Something about her touched what was left of my humanity. Buried under all that programming.” Bucky touched the back of his neck. “A long time ago, Y/N made me remember what it was to feel human.”

____________________________________

MADRIPOOR - Low Town:

After several weeks of looking for clues to the "Flag Smashers", your way brought you to Madripoor. One of the most criminal cities in the world. If you didn't want to be robbed or even die here immediately, you had to be someone and have made a name for yourself. It's good that you already had that.

“Nyx”, Your informant greeted you. “Where’s my money?”

You smirked. “Do I have to remind you what happens, if you keep talking to me in that tone?”

You wanted to take a sip of the bourbon you had just ordered, but your informant knocked it out of your hand and the glass broke on the floor. Before the glass hit the floor, you grabbed him by his throat and pushed him down on the counter.

The bar owner, Jerry, wanted to interfere. His bar was the only one in Madripoor with zero tolerance against violence, if you wanted to fight you should do it outside.

You raised your finger and showed the owner that he should wait, he also knew who you were, which was why he repected you.

“Do you know how hard it is to find a good bar with my favorite bourbon in Madripoor?” The guy shook his head while you gripped tighter. “No? now let me tell you - it's as hard as really doing anything with your expensive information.” You let go of him.

“I-I told you everything, I know.”

“I-I” You laughed. “Remembered who I am, huh?” You ordered another Bourbon. “So, first of all, this drink, you’ll pay for it.” You took a sip and smiled. “Next, you’re going to tell me all you know about Kali and then I’ll pay you.”

You didn't get an answer, but you realized he still knew something when he nervously looked at his phone. You rolled your eyes, stood up, and turned around. "Jerry, I'm really sorry but I tried the nice way." You slightly pulled your dress up and took out your gun, turned to the informant and released the fuse.

“Phone,” You winded your eyes, “now!”

You rolled your eyes, still pointing at the guy. “Zemo - High Town, you’ve got to be kidding me.” You put your gun back and broke his phone. “I’m very disappointed and our Deal is over, don’t make a mistake - don’t follow me.” You spoke serious. “Or it's the last thing you'll ever do.”

____________________________________

MADRIPOOR - High Town - Brass Monkey Saloon:

High Town in Madripoor was way different than Low Town. More drugs, weapons sex, rich people and power. The petty criminals were no longer represented here; criminal elite were gathered here.

“Nyx,” The Bartender greeted you. “Long time no see even though you look stunning in that dress (X), thought you were done with this life.”

“Well, a girl has to eat,” You smirked. “And to drink.”

The bartender smiled and brought you your favorite bourbon. “Did you hear the rumors about Zemo?”

“Heard he’s back in town.” You took a sip of your glas.

He raised his eybrow. “This Bastard is accompanied by the Winter Soldier.”

You choked. He patted you on the shoulder. After you were sure you hadn't misheard, you inspected the club more closely.

You looked at the Bartender, “You never saw me.” he nodded.

You nervously went to the ladies' room. You’ve heard that James was still alive and that he now had a part of his memory back, so you thought he had stopped being the Winter Soldier and started a life of his own outside of H.Y.D.R.A.. But now that he was Zemo's company you thought about following them and finding out what that their Partnership was about.

You checked whether there was anyone else in the toilet besides you and when you were sure that you were alone, you took a deep breath and turned on the water. You suddenly got a slight headache and grabbed your head, when you looked at yourself in the mirror, your flashbacks started.

____________________________________

Ages ago - Red Room:

You were one of the best and yet you always had to prove it. After you had defeated each of your fellow campaigners, your leaders were still not satisfied and they let you fight the Winter Soldier - again

“AGAIN!” The Winter Soldier shouted and you fell you arm would break if you’d hit him again.

“AGAIN!”

“James, I-I need a break.”

“What did you just call me?” He asked as he noticed the penetrating looks of the other woman and you remembered that nobody should now.

The Winter Soldier knocked you out.

____________________________________

After James knocked you out, you were brought to your room, you woke up hours later. You touched your head and noticed the bump he gave you.

"Stupid, bastard." You mumbled.

“I’m sorry, you know I had to.” You recognized his voice.

You looked around and saw his silhouette sitting in the corner, presumably he came through the window into your room again, like so many times before.

You shook your head, “No, I am sorry. I've put both of us in danger”

Bucky got up and went to you. He let his right hand slowly slide up over your arm to your neck and finally to your head, he too felt the bump. You felt his guilt, but you knew he would never really hurt you.

“Stop it.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “James, you know I could’ve easily taken you down.” You smirked.

Because of him, you could endure the whole ordeal at all. If he just looked at you, you lost yourself in his blue eyes and if he held you in his arms he gave you a warm home. He was your anchor to carry on every day and you were his.

“I told you to call me Bucky.”

You pulled him closer to you, “I’m glad that you start to remember who you’re.”

He put his hands gently around your waist and pulled you closer as he slowly leaned in to kiss you.

____________________________________

After cooling your wrists and neck, your pulse calmed down and the flashbacks were gone.

“Thankfully I have often had to look out from above in this God-forsaken place.”

You jumped on one of the sinks and pushed a panel of the roof aside. You pulled yourself up and crawled back to the dance floor so that no one could see you but you could see everyone.

You spotted Zemo, so it wasn't a rumor and he really was back, but you haven't been able to locate Bucky yet. But it was strange for Zemo that his companion was smiling Tiger.

You were a little rusty in lip reading but you understood that he wanted to talk to Shelby. This would have been your next step too. The mood in the club began to turn. People started staring at Zemo as one of Powerbroker's bodyguards made himself known.

“Зимний солдат атака” Zemo ordered.

“No” You covered your mouth with your hands.

Bucky stepped out of the shadows and was now clearly in your field of vision. He didn't see you, it seemed as if he only saw what he always saw first - an order and his mission. He was ready to comply. He attacked the men who were trying to get Zemo.

Elegant and graceful like a cat, you glide silently along the steel girders, and watched every movement of James, did Zemo really manage to turn him into his personal puppet?

Bucky knocked down man after man as if they were nothing. Your pulse went faster and your movements on the steel beams became more uncontrolled as you followed his fight. Your heart felt the urge to intervene, you reminded Bucky so many times who he was - not any ones weapon, that you stopped counting and seeing him like this again felt like you had failed him.

When you were almost about to fall, people simultaneously pulled out their guns. James stopped fighting and was called back by Zemo. You regained control of your heartbeat and your body relaxed, which helped you to find your balance again.

The bartender informed Zemo that the three would now be welcomed by Shelby.

You couldn't follow them any further without getting into the line of fire. You waited until they left and slowly made your way down from the steel girders and landed on the floor. People looked at you questioningly.

“What? Lady’s stay out of meaningless fights.” And with that you left the bar.

____________________________________

After a few minutes outside the club you got a message, but it seemed you weren't the only one. Cell phones all around you started chiming, people were chatting and looking around. Shelby placed a pretty high bounty and now everyone would be looking for James

You heard gunshots, “Great.”

Of course, instead of being smart and running away from the gunshots like every other person, you couldn't help but run to exactly where they came from. You hadn't seen Bucky in a long time, but everything in your body demanded to find him before someone could place a bullet between his beautiful ocean eyes.

You saw the bikers who drove behind Bucky and smiling Tiger, you pulled out your gun and fired at them. Two fell, thanks to you, the last one was taken out by a sniper.

“You seem to have a guardian Angel.” Zemo spoke breathless.

“Not quite.”

Bucky recognized this voice, but couldn't place it exactly on a face. He was just sure she wasn't a threat.

A blond woman showed up, “Nice shot. I take it from here,” she looked behind the man. “and you can crawl back into the darkness.” You smirked and nodded.

Before the men could turn around you had already disappeared into the shadows.

____________________________________

Within seconds you were on the roofs of Madripoor and on the way to your hotel. Being so close to Bucky clouded your mind and made you lose sight of your goal.

It helped you to walk over the rooftops in the middle of the night, it was like a release for you. In the night, in the deepest darkness, it was easier to order your thoughts, this is how you had been taught, how he had taught you to focus in case you should lose your way - switch everything dark and only listen to your inner voice.

You remembered him saying those words to you, “Your voice is what makes me lose my focus.” you held your neck and climbed into your Hotelroom through an open window.

After you were in your room, you inspected every inch for cameras, microphones or intruders of any kind, after this you closed every window, every door and every curtain.

“Finally.” You sighed as you pulled of your dress.

You looked even more threatening under your dress. There were small knives on both sides of your ribs and two different guns on your legs. You took everything off and put your weapons aside, all but your favorite gun (X).

“Your place is here.” You spoke soft and placed it under your pillow.

You went to bed and closed your eyes. The room was dark and absolutely silent while your thoughts and memories yelled at you.

____________________________________

“Can we just stay here forever?” You asked while laying in Buckys arms on top of the roof the Academy.

You looked up, the stars merged with the dark night and they seemed to be in perfect harmony.

“Whenever we’re separated, I look at the stars and I think of you. You are my night and I'm your star, he looked at his metal arm,” He tried to make the gun on his body positive. “even if we are often apart from each other, I cannot be without you-”

You lifted yourself up to look at him. “And I cannot be without you.”

____________________________________

MADRIPOOR - High Town - Unknown Place

It was already very late when Bucky, Sam and Zemo arrived at Sharon's apartment. They all wouldn’t have expected that Sharon had such a beautiful and safe hiding place in the middle of Madripoor, plus a successful business.

“How’s the new Cap?” She asked curious.

Bucky sat down on the couch, "Don’t get me started" he said with an annoyed voice.

Sharon scoffed. “Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit.” She sat next to him. “Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America!” Sharon chuckled as she noticed Zemo questioning look. “Cap’s best friend.”

Bucky was suprised by Sharon's words, none of them knew this side of her before.

“Wow. She’s kind of awful now.” Bucky mumbled.

Sam gave them an side eye, “Kali Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the super soldier serum.” He sat down. “We won’t leave until we find the one who cracked the code.”

Sharon turned and stared out her window, “That’d explain her appearance. Either she wants to take it or destroy it.”

“Who?” Zemo asked.

“Nyx” Sharon stood up and got herself a drink.

Bucky stood up and he looked petrified. It was as if he had forgotten how to move or even show any kind of reaction within seconds. As he thought more and more about the day, he had felt her penetrating gaze, even though she was nowwhere to be seen. His heart was racing. Bucky’s eyes ran through the room, every dark corner was inspected, but she wasn’t called NYX for nothing.

Sam noticed Bucky's tense body, everything about him seemed like he was hopelessly overwhelmed with something that piercing his head.

“Hey man. You okay?” Sam gently touched his shoulder.

Zemo looked worried like Bucky would snap again any minute. “What is going on with him?”

Bucky went to Sharon and got worryingly close in her space. “What do you know about her and how can I contact her?”

Bucky's posture was tense. For someone who didn't know him, they might have thought, he would attack Sharon at any moment. But Sharon didn’t step back. She recognized something in his eyes, that she had once seen before, as she looked in Steve Roger’s after her Aunts dead - pain and a broken heart.

“This can’t be.” Sharon raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms. “You’re her-”

“What the hell is going on?” Sam interrupted.

“-Star”

Bucky's eyes blurred, his head started to ache, and he held on to the wall to keep from falling.

“I know you’ll always be with me!” You chuckled and looked into the dark blue night. “You’re my star, you watch out for me.”

He remembered a feminine and warm voice.

“What if they catch us?” You asked him worried.

Bucky gently touched your cheek, “Then I’ll fight them all.” he kissed you.

He remembered the texture of her soft skin and her gently touch.

“You’re not a Monster, no matter how many times they try to convince you - you’re not.”

He remembered how you tried to protect him.

“If you want him, you’ve to kill me first.”

He remembered how you fought for him...

...and how you lost the fight.

Bucky took a deep breath. He came back to himself. He remembered a part of his past that H.Y.D.R.A. left buried deep. A part that made him turn off the Winter Soldier again and again.

His guilt grew. “I need to go.” He mumbled.

Sam came in his way, “Wait!” he sighed. “Talk to me, Buck.”

Sharon scoffed. “One Weapon wants to find the other. NYX is a Myth all around the world, like the Winter Soldier was.” She winked at him. “She’s as strong as an Army, fast like a cheetah, she knows the most diverse fighting techniques and speaks multiple languages-”

“-Okay and?” Zemo rolled his eyes.

“I was the secret weapon of H.Y.D.R.A. ...or at least I was one of them. She was another. Something about her touched what was left of my humanity. Buried under all that programming.” Bucky touched the back of his neck. “A long time ago, Y/N made me remember what it was to feel human.”

Sam held his head. “She saved us today. Well, saved you but-” he shrug with his shoulders.

“And now she has become a shadow. She works alone, always clean leaving no hints behind. I don’t know how to find her but maybe I can contact some people who might know what her next mission is.”

____________________________________

MADRIPOOR - Next Morning:

Your alarm clock rang but you had been awake and still lying in bed for hours. That you would wake up before your alarm clock was nothing special, but it was unusual that you were lying there instead of going to work immediately.

Your heart beat irregularly, and a slight nausea came over you every now and then. Seeing Bucky again without him recognizing you hit your psyche more than you wanted to admit to yourself.

Your phone rang, a new hint for the super soldier serum.

You sighed. “Ohhh f*ck this.” you put your pillow on your face.

But a mission was a mission. You took the pillow from your face, sat up straight, and took a deep breath. Even before you knew that Bucky was back, the mission was important to you personally and Bucky wouldn't be able to prevent you from destroying the serum - no matter what.

Your cell phone rang again and one of your informants wrote you where you could find the scientist who had recreated the serum. Buccaneer Bay.

You looked at your gun. “Hopefully I won’t need you for him...” You spoke and put on your weapons.

____________________________________

MADRIPOOR - Buccaneer Bay

Your body was still tense because of Bucky, but it was also he who learned to suppress your own emotions. When you arrived in Buccaneer Bay, your way led you to the top of the container. A better view and you wouldn't be noticed right away.

“With that bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor the less likely you’re ever leaving.”

You rolled your eyes as you recognized a female voice. “I should’ve known.”

You leaned a little over the container you were standing on and noticed Sharon, Sam Wilson, Zemo and of course Bucky.

The four of them ran through the individual containers and it seemed as if they were looking for the same thing as you. Slowly and silently you went after them until-

Sharon stopped. “-Container four-two-six-one.”

Bucky looked uncomfortable. He looked around in every direction. It was as if you could literally feel that someone was watching him.

“I’ll watch while you guys talk to Nagel.” Sharon handed them some earpods. “But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.”

“What’re you up to?” You asked yourself as you looked at her.

The container door cracked open, you waited until Sharon was far enough away to get to the next container and on to your destination.

The men went in and you heard them open another door inside. You waited 2 minutes, after all, Zemo and Sam were accompanied by the Winter Soldier, who would double-check everything. When you were sure that they were gone you went into the container.

____________________________________

As you followed them you heard how they drew their weapons. That wasn’t your way, while they first thought of pulling out their weapons, you thought of securing the container and waiting until the men thought they had nothing to worry about and were alone with the doctor.

“Doctor Nagel?” You heard Sam.

The doctor turned and went pale in the face. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“We know you created the super-soldier serum.”

You walked slowly into the room and decided to hide yourself first.

Nagel walked past them, “Get out of my lap.” until he noticed Bucky.

“You know who he is right?”

Nagel didn’t dare to move any further than looked deep into Bucky’s eyes and didn’t grimace. Sam grabbed Nagel by his jacket and pushed him at a wall.

“How about a counter proposal?” The Doctor grinned. “Make me a better offer and I talk.”

Bucky's body language spoke for him. He must have heard something, they weren't alone anymore. He pulled his gone and pointed at Nagel. You got nervous, was this Bucky Barnes or was it the Winter Soldier? Whoever he was, nothing should happen to Nagel.

Nagel began to explain how he managed to reproduce and modify the Super-Soldier serum. In your opinion, he was a bit arrogant.

“I was god.” He smiled and you rolled your eyes.

Zemo started walking around, you couldn't tell what he was going to do so you decided to get closer. He found a gun under a desk and went near Sam and Bucky. You heard the container door open again and you were ready to fight, but Sharon stormed in and for a second you couldn't keep an eye on Zemo, a shot went off - Nagel was dead.

You had to act immediately, you came out from behind Sharon and hit her hard on the head, she fell over like a stone. Sam held Zemo tight, his gun fell to the ground. You ran up to Sam, he was so surprised that it was easy for you to ram your elbow in his face and make him fall to the ground too. You pulled out your two guns, one aimed at Zemo and the other at Bucky.

“Y/N?” Bucky sounded confused.

“Its been a long time since I heard that Name,” She sighed. “Did you miss me, Soldier?” You gasped.

“Do you want the serum for yourself, my dear?” Zemo asked hands up.

Bucky shook his head, “She already has it.” He came closer to you.

“Ah-Ah-Ah, don’t make another move.” You were still aiming at Bucky. “I need the serums, I’ll destroy them so that no one can ever use it again, can use us like they please.”

Bucky's gaze softened. The whole time he was wondering what had become of you, but even if H.Y.D.R.A. or the KGB wanted to make you monsters, you were one of the monsters who worked for, instead of against, people.

He came closer and even without touching you he could feel how much your heart was beating. But what he didn't know, would you shoot him to get to your goal?

He put his hand on yours with he gun, “Y/N...”

____________________________________

Before you could react to Bucky or even think about your next step, you were hit by a bomb that destroyed half the container and knocked you and the others to the ground.

“Y/N,” Bucky groans.

You heard heard the alarm blaring and glasses clicking, everything was shaking but you seemed unharmed as you could stand up on your own. But your eyes couldn't see that much, everything looked blurry. You could barely stand on your feet.

“Did anyone see Zemo?”

Bucky helped the others up. You shook your head and slowly came to yourself. Bucky came and took your hand when another explosion destroyed the container, you all were lucky and made it out just in time.

“All right! Wait for my signal!” Bucky ordered.

You heard gunfire and placed yourself in front of him to take a shouter out.

“Too slow old man.” You came out from behind the container and started shooting the other shooters. Sharon and Sam followed your example and helped.

“Damn it, Y/N!”

You could hear how one after the other fell to the ground but it seemed to get more and more.

“Hey?!” You looked at Bucky. “Do you remember Budapest?” You yelled.

Bucky did remember Budapest and shook his head. “Its too dangerous!”

Another explosion happened and smoke came up, it was perfect to cover you. You got out of your protection and Bucky ran behind you. You were standing back to back and started shooting around you and taking one by one until there was no one left.

Sam and Sharon were speechless after what they just witnessed. A super soldier and a spy who killed 20 people at once without even blinking. But it wasn't over yet, Madripoor was not known for criminals who would give up so easily.

“Okay come on!” Sharon spoke and you followed her into another container.

“So you two?” Sam started and Bucky and you gave him a death stare. “Okay, okay.” He grinned.

Bucky rammed open the door on the other side of the container and you could hear car tires screeching.

“Supercharged.” Zemo smiled.

“You’re going back to jail.” Sam replied.

“Do you want to find Karli or not?”

Bucky crossed his arms, “He’s right, we need him.” he opened the car door.

“Fine.” Sam clenched his teeth. “But if you try that shit again.” He placed himself on the backseat.

You looked at Bucky and he realized you weren't going to come with him. He took your hand and pulled you closer to himself.

Everything in Bucky demanded to stroke you, kiss you and just feel you but he couldn't even find a word.

“I’ll find you.” You looked into his eyes and smiled soft. “even in the darkest nights.”

He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t do anything stupid.” Then he went inside the car.

You nodded to Sam to show you trusted him to fight by Bucky's side. Then you turned around and walked past Sharon while you rammed her shoulder hard, once around the corner and you were gone.

Bucky put his head in his hands, wondering if he should have stayed with you or persuaded you to come with him. But it didn't seem to be the time for it yet. Sam touched his shoulder to comfort him. Zemo started the car and Bucky felt your gaze on him, he turned around and this time you allowed him to see you.

He knew you’d see each other again, he still hoped for a better reason but the Serum was still out there - and your mission wasn't over yet.

_______________________________

Thank you for reading - Please share and leave some love here <3

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes gif #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #Winter Soldier #falcon and winter solider series #tfatws #tfatws imagine #marvel #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson #sam wilson imagine #Sam Wilson fanfic #sharon carter #madripoor #natasha romanoff #captain america

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theinvisiblemuseum · 2 years

Note

HEY same anon here, and yes of course I wanna hear about the girl's tattoos as well!!! thank you for indulging me, I'm really invested in thinking about tattoos headcanons now and I love your ideas, they really match each character's personality and look super pretty!! not gonna lie, it's making me wanna get a tattoo too, your power.... <33

ahhh yay i’m glad i’ve sufficiently sold my tattoo headcanons thus far SLAYYY (also i’m obviously a big proponent for tattoos. do it do it do it)

now onto the girls, none of whom thankfully have as many as sirius, but still enough that this post will also be incredibly long :-))) BUT i finally figured out the keep reading cut wahooo

lily:

i hc lily as jewish, so she doesn’t have any tattoos BUT she does draw on her hands and arms all the time as a way to give herself reminders/take notes/etc

mary:

mary’s an astrology/tarot/aura/crystal/etc girl and her tattoos reflect that

1. realistic looking flame- down her left shoulder to her elbow

2. realistic looking wave- down her right shoulder to her elbow

3. crystals- one representing each of her friends, running along her spine

4. empress tarot card- inside of her left forearm

5. artistic leo inspired design- inside of her right forearm (mary is a leo sun i won’t take crisicism)

6. wings- on her sternum/underboob area sort of similar to rihanna’s isis goddess tattoo but it’s just the wings

dorcas:

most are pretty simple, similar to james she likes to have ones that really mean something to her

1. suns- one on the backside of either arm, matches james’ on his ankles

2. the letter m- on her wrist bone, for marlene

3. rose- on the outside of her hand, from her pinky to her wrist

4. a bluebird, a cardinal, a goldfinch, and a swallow- down the length of her torso on the right side of her body (each bird represents one of the girls- marlene is a bluebird, lily is a cardinal, mary is a goldfinch, dorcas is a swallow)

5. two hands locking pinkies- back of her neck

marlene:

the sirius of the girls in terms of millions of tattoos half of which mean absolutely nothing

1. the letter d- on her wrist bone, for dorcas

2. va te faire foutre- on the back of her right arm, means go fuck yourself in french (sirius’ influence)

3. the female icon thingy (♀)- behind her right ear

4. skull- left side of her collarbone

5. snake- right side of her chest wrapping up to her collarbone (slytherin dorcas truthers rise up)

6. rose- right side of her chest, matches dorcas’ rose

7. geometric heart- left side of her chest, on her heart

8. sword- between her boobs

9. sleeping cherub- right side of her sternum

10. hand shooting hearts- left side of her sternum

11. golden snitch- back of her neck

12. celtic knot- right shoulder (marlene is irish and that’s that)

13. triquetra- left shoulder

14. bowen knot- on her hip bone

15. dragon- all the way down her back, but it’s sort of mixed with other designs and looks incredibly cool rather than incredibly stupid a la ben aflleck’s back tattoo, you know?

16. bluebird- right thigh

17. sun/moon/stars- stomach

18. roman numerals 1-8- left thigh, i hc marlene with a big family, so there’s a number for each of them

19. sappho quote ‘someone will remember us I say even in another time’- left forearm

20. birth of venus- right shin

21. cartoon style dog- back of her right ankle (also sirius)

22. strawberry- under the inside of her left knee

23. realistic looking lightning strike- down the whole side of her left leg

alice:

while in my mind she’s technically outside the core marauder group, i have too many tattoo ideas for her to leave her out

1. feather- on her left shoulder

2. cherries- left tricep

3. broomstick- back of her left forearm

4. swirly design- top of her left wrist

5. daisy- right shoulder

6. thestral- top of her right forearm

7. sprig of leaves- top of her right wrist

8. sparkling diamond shape- right hand

9. her name in runes- one rune on each finger of her left hand

10. stylized sun- just under her right knee

11. hand with a heart between them- left knee

12. butterfly- left thigh

13. ancient greek inspired geometric pattern- wrapping all the way around her sternum

subject to change as i add more in my mind, as we well know by now :))

#organ donations #tattoo talk

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 9}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.

Word Count: 3378

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

Hestia

– Goddess of the hearth, home and family

Mondays and Wednesdays always seemed to drag.

Thanks to her lack of Rowan in class, Aelin’s classes were boring and she found herself thinking of other things, rather than the notes she was supposed to be taking. Like the way Rowan’s eyes had been on her as she went down on him in the shower earlier than morning.

At his insistence, she’d begun using his shower for more than just sex purposes, as she’d so eloquently explained to him the week before. She was regularly staying over, getting ready for her own classes in the morning, just as he was. But whenever one of them followed the other into the tiled shower, it was used for practical reasons.

As well as sexual ones.

Suppressing a whine as she thought of the way Rowan had pinned her up against the cool tiles that morning, Aelin crossed her legs and checked her watch. Only another twenty minutes and then she had her break between classes. She wasn’t hungry, thanks to the protein bar she’d eaten just before this class started, and she was close to the gen ed building, so she decided she would drop by her mythology professor’s office. She had a few questions about the homework he’d assigned yesterday and face-to-face was always better to her than an email.

Once her anatomy professor was wrapping up, Aelin was tossing her books into a bag and hauling ass across campus. Rowan’s last class was wrapping up, too, and she didn’t want to miss him before he hurried off to do whatever else.

She could’ve texted him to stay put, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

She made it to his building and dodged by those who were hurrying off to their other classes or their beds, and stopped at Rowan’s office door before giving it a halting knock.

It took him a second to answer, but when he did, he was handsome as ever.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the button down tucked into his trousers. When he saw it was Aelin at his office door, a silver brow lifted.

“Aelin,” he began, clearing his throat. “How may I help you?”

“I have some questions about the homework,” she began, voice low, even though no one else was around. “Can I come in for a second?”

Rowan moved aside before she had finished her question. With one last glance down the hall he shared with a few other first-year professors, he shut the door, sealing them into his office. The blinds were open, but on the third floor, it wasn’t like anyone could see the private meeting he and his student were about to have.

Even if he didn’t know what kind of meeting it was about to be.

“Are you on your lunch break?” She asked, leaning back against his desk.

He nodded. “Didn’t plan on taking lunch, but I’ve got a couple hours before my next class. Was going to work on some grading. Why?”

He had stepped closer, pausing beside one of the chairs he kept in front of the desk for students to sit in.

Aelin clearly had other ideas of where to sit though. With a smirk, she reached out and lightly gripped his shirt, pulling him towards her.

“You had questions about the homework,” he breathed, leaning away as she tried to kiss him.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t kiss her. He just wanted to see her squirm.

And squirm, she did. “You know very well that I turned in the homework yesterday afternoon.”

She tried to kiss him again, but he fell away, even though his arms were around her waist.

“I don’t recall that,” he taunted. “Maybe you could remind me.”

“I turned it in just before I did this,” she crooned, and her lips found his.

Aelin kissed him, slowly, her arms snaking around his neck. She swore she would never tire of the feeling of his mouth on hers.

“Oh yeah,” Rowan muttered, against her lips. “Now I remember.”

It only took him a second to grab her hips and set her on top of his desk.

There was a clattering of something tipping over, probably a cup of pens or paper clips from the sound of it, but neither of them cared. Not as he gripped the outside of her thigh where her legs were wrapped around him, or her hand found its way into his hair. He was both frustrated and very glad she’d worn leggings today. While he wished she was wearing something with a bit easier access, it was probably a blessing in disguise that he couldn’t get his hand between her legs.

Or his mouth.

Or any other body parts.

That wasn’t stopping Aelin from rubbing against him, looking for friction, as their tongues battled and teeth occasionally clashed. She let out a quiet moan and he tugged on her hair, pulling her lips from his.

“We’re not fucking in my office,” he breathed, looking her in the eyes. “It is way too dangerous.”

She nodded, knowing and accepting the fact, but it didn’t mean she was done kissing him.

“Was this morning not enough?” He smirked, trailing his lips down her throat instead of returning to hers.

“It’s never enough,” she gasped. “Every time I’m away from you…”

Her words trailed off as their lips met. It was true. It was never enough. She was so fulfilled with Rowan, and the second he was gone, she longed for him.

“Come over tonight,” Aelin begged. “Stay with me tonight.”

Rowan groaned as his tongue slipped between her lips.

They stayed at Rowan’s nearly every night. The only times Aelin stayed at her own apartment was when she had an exam or homework she had to work on, without Rowan distracting her. Lysandra and Aedion had met Rowan over dinner a few nights before, though Aelin had insisted take out was much more her friends’ speed than a fully home cooked meal. However, Aelin had a lab due the following morning, so after dinner, Rowan had gone back home.

Alone.

“We have class tomorrow,” he replied, lips still on hers.

“So we’ll make sure we get up early.” Dragging her teeth across his jaw, she gripped his shoulders. “Bring over everything you’ll need to come straight to class.”

Rowan hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“We don’t live on campus,” Aelin said, quietly. “It’s not like I live somewhere surrounded by students.”

Rowan pulled back and met her gaze. “It’s important to you?”

Aelin nodded, arms still wrapped around the back of his neck. “I love being cooped up in your apartment. I really do. But, sometimes I wanna be cooped up somewhere else, too.”

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” Aelin asked, a soft smile painted across her light pink lips.

Rowan couldn’t help his own smile forming as he leaned forward and pulled Aelin closer to him as he kissed her, softly. They went on like that, dwelling in those slow, prolonged kisses. There was something personal, something exceptional about a long, slow kiss. Something sensual that made Aelin’s stomach feel like it was going to explode, even though it lacked that animalistic passion they had come to find within one another.

A quick knock at the door had them jumping apart, Rowan dragging a quick hand through his hair, not having a chance to reply before the door opened.

“Hey, Rowan, I was hoping you could— Oh.”

The pretty woman froze in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her.

It was innocent enough, though Aelin’s lips were swollen from their kisses. That could easily be explained away, especially as her teeth found the bottom lip and gnawed on it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had an appointment,” she said, eyeing Aelin, who had thankfully gotten off the desk before she’d entered.

“It wasn’t officially booked,” he explained, slightly stepping in front of Aelin to keep her shielded. “Miss Galathynius had a few questions about the homework I assigned in class and about an upcoming project. She stopped by during her lunch break, since her schedule is so busy.”

Silence built in the office, and after a second, Rowan cleared his throat. “Did you need something, Remelle?”

“Maeve sent out an email about a mandatory department meeting for Thursday night,” she said, slowly, still looking at them both suspiciously. “A couple of us in the building were going to get drinks after, wanted to know if you wanted to come.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll plan on it.”

“Good,” Remelle said, a little too quickly. “And check your mailbox in the office. It’s full.”

With another look at Aelin, then at Rowan, Remelle left and the door fell shut behind her.

Silence enveloped the room.

Rowan slowly turned around to look at Aelin, whose face was pale.

“You couldn’t have locked the door?” she whispered.

Rowan scoffed. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t have been suspicious, being locked in here with a student.”

For some reason, the word student felt like a jab coming from him in that moment. Aelin’s back straightened. “I wasn’t aware that the receptionist randomly barges into your office. If a student found it locked, they probably wouldn’t think it was weird, at all. Offices around here are locked all the damn time.”

Rowan sighed and nodded. He stepped towards her and ran his hands up and down her arms, pressing a soft kiss to Aelin’s forehead. “You should go. There’s only so much we can talk about homework.”

Nodding, Aelin wrapped her arms around his waist, and he wrapped her up in his own. “I’ll see you after class?”

“I’ll run by my place to grab some things and pick up dinner on the way,” he promised, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. Grabbing her bag from the chair, she adjusted her messy bun, which was only a little messier than it had been before and slipped out the office door.

Leaning back on the spot Aelin had just been sitting in, Rowan took a quick moment to breathe before setting his desk to rights and heading down to check his community mailbox. It wasn’t full as Remelle had implied, but there were a few things in it, mostly department memos and notes from other professors. He ignored her suspicious look as he made his way back up the stairs to his office and settled behind his desk to work on the grading he’d planned to do during his lunch.

He was halfway through an essay from one of his upperclassmen when his email dinged on his laptop. It had gone off a few times since Aelin had left, but he’d ignored them, assuming they were automatic replies to Maeve’s email about the meeting.

Tapping on the track pad of his laptop to wake it up, he kept reading over the essay as his email came to life, but he waited until he was done to look over at the most recent notifications.

Freezing, Rowan’s eyes flashed over the subject of the email from Maeve three times before he actually had the nerve to open it.

Meeting in my office after your final class of the evening.

We need to have a talk.

Aelin felt as if she had been holding her breath for hours.

Which was exactly how long it had been since she had received her text from Rowan.

As someone who was not nervous or paranoid by nature, she hated the feeling of being so freaked out that she was nearly about to vomit. She had already cleaned her apartment once, and was pouring herself a glass of wine as she was deciding what she could clean next. Maybe she would clean out the fridge.

After downing her glass of wine, she did just that, throwing open the refrigerator door and emptying out what had been in there for over a week.

She didn’t even hear the front door open, nor did she hear her roommate and cousin walk into the kitchen.

“Ace?”

Aelin yelped, jumped, and spun around, nearly knocking over her glass of wine on the counter nearby. “What the hell?” she yelled. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that! Doesn’t anyone realize how fucking rude it is to just barge in?!”

Aedion’s brows shot up as Lysandra stepped forward. “Uh, everything okay?”

Aelin’s face fell into her hands as she leaned against the countertop. “Does it look like everything is okay?” she asked, words muffled.

“What happened?” Lysandra asked, gently prying Aelin’s hands from her face.

Her eyes were still shut, as if she could shut out the world. Taking a deep breath, she released it, answering in one, quick burst. “I think Rowan and I got caught.”

She heard something hit the floor, clearly dropped by Aedion, but Lysandra’s hands went slack on her wrist. “What do you mean?”

Letting her head fall to the countertop, she groaned once before standing up straight and looking at them. Aedion had indeed dropped the bag of pretzels he’d pulled from the cabinet.

“We both had long breaks today, so I stopped by his office to see him for a minute. I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I mean… Yeah, I kinda did. I kissed him first.”

“I don’t need to hear about this. Lys can fill me in,” Aedion muttered, scooping the bag of pretzels off the floor and heading for Lysandra’s bedroom.

“We didn’t fuck or anything,” Aelin sighed after he left. “But we did make out on his desk a bit. It was barely even PG-13.”

“So what happened?” Lysandra asked, getting another glass down and refilling Aelin’s glassed wine and filling one for herself. “How did you get caught?”

“The secretary walked in,” Aelin said, staring at a spot on the hardwood. “She didn’t see anything, we broke apart before the door opened, but… I don’t know. She sounded suspicious, looked suspicious.” Aelin took a sip from her glass. “I mean, seriously, who knocks but doesn’t wait for a come in before they open the damn door? It’s rude as hell.”

“I don’t wait before coming into your room,” Lysandra said.

“That’s different, we live together,” Aelin said, unable to control her chuckle.

Lysandra smiled, but it faded as she shook her head. “That man needs to learn how to lock his office.”

“That’s what I said!” Aelin agreed, and topped off her glass before it was even halfway empty.

“So, what?” Lysandra went on. “She came in but didn’t see anything. Maybe she just always looks suspicious. I’m sure nothing will come out of it.”

Without another word, Aelin took her phone out of her pocket and slid it across the counter. Lysandra slowly picked it up and read Rowan’s text.

Got an email from Maeve. I have to go to her office tonight. Says she needs to talk to me. Sounded urgent.

Aelin had texted back. Did she say what it was about?

No, Rowan had replied. But it doesn’t sound good.

“Have you heard from him since he sent these?” Lysandra asked, setting the phone down.

“No, but we’ve both been in class.” Aelin let her head fall to the countertop again. “He’s supposed to come over after he gets out. But now I’m wondering if that’s such a good idea. What if someone sees him getting here?”

“It’s not all students, and we’re not exactly social butterflies. We don’t know any of our neighbors,” Lysandra said, clearly trying to soothe her.

Aelin just shook her head. “I like him, Lys. A lot. I can see a future with this guy, but… What if this is all too much? It’s too dangerous. We’re jeopardizing our futures.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “The secretive part of your relationship is only temporary. Besides, he’s head over heels for you, too. Would it really be worth it to give that up?”

“What if Rowan is about to lose his job?” Aelin shot back. “Lys, I would never be able to forgive myself. I have to do something.”

“Always the hero,” Lysandra muttered. “Look, the best thing you can do right now is stay here, drink wine, and let it all play out. Rowan is a big boy. He can handle himself.” Aelin said nothing, so Lysandra went on. “I just want to see you happy. Does he make you happy?”

“Beyond. Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but… I care about him.”

“And it’s pretty damn clear that he cares about you, so sitting and waiting sucks, but that’s what you’ll have to do.” Lysandra crossed the kitchen and wrapped her best friend up in a hug. Aelin’s forehead fell to her shoulder. “I can send Aedion to get more wine if you want.”

Aelin nodded.

Lysandra chuckled and said, “Then that’s what we’ll do. Why don’t you—?”

A knock on the front door had Aelin’s head snapping up and she hurried from the kitchen. Throwing open the door, she found Rowan standing on the other side. Before he could say anything, she pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Gods, I’ve been so fucking worried.”

To her surprise, he laughed quietly, and it only caused Aelin to lean back, eyes wide. “What could possibly be funny right now?”

“I’m not I’m trouble,” he whispered, arms going around her waist. “We’re safe, we’re fine.”

Aelin blinked, all anxiety fading from her body only to be replaced with confusion. “Why did Maeve call you into her office, then?”

“She just wanted to check how things were going.” He shrugged. “Being new, and her nephew, she just wanted to check in.”

“Gods, Rowan!” She shoved his chest, lightly. “You couldn’t have texted me that? I’ve been a nervous mess!”

“She’s not exaggerating,” Lysandra mumbled from behind them. “Hi, Professor.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Hi, Lysandra.”

As Lysandra headed towards her room, he looked down to where Aelin was staring at his chest. He tilted her chin up until she was forced to look at him. His brow furrowed and he was surprised to see silver lining her eyes. “Everything is okay, baby. Why are you crying?”

She shook her head and blinked, but wasn’t able to stop the single tear that spilled over. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I thought we got caught, that I had ruined your life.”

His heart nearly broke. “Aelin…” He wrapped her up in his arms again, holding her as tightly as he dared, as if he could keep her from falling apart. After a second, he leaned back so he could look at her, but didn’t let her go. “Being together isn’t a decision that just one of us has made. We both went into this relationship knowing the consequences. If something were to happen, if someone finds out, you aren’t ruining my life.”

Aelin snorted, and framed his face in her hands. “So we’d both be ruining your life?”

“No one’s life will be ruined,” Rowan promised. “I’m going to be with you, Aelin. Now, and when you graduate, we can have a normal relationship, whatever the hell that means. If you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s a big promise to make so early in our relationship,” Aelin breathed, running her thumbs across his cheeks.

“I have a good feeling about us,” Rowan followed, melting into her touch.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, but pulled back and smirked. “But maybe I’ll start locking my office, just in case you decide to make another unexpected visit.”

Aelin threw her head back and laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she rose up on her toes to kiss him again.

The day had stressed them both out, but throughout it all, there was only one thing Rowan could think about: he didn’t know what his future held, but there was one thing for sure.

He wanted Aelin in it.

#rowaelin ttf #snacmc ttf #tempting the fates #throne of glass #aelin x rowan #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #snacmc collabs

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randomrosewrites · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet Dreams

Every night, your mind is plagued with visions of an old Liyue. She blesses your nights, like a guardian angel, but you never remember her face or name when the sun rises again.

Pairing: Ganyu X GN reader Words: ~5K Warnings/ tags: Memory loss, reincarnation, blood and injury, death, fluff and angst, happy ending, implied sexual content a/n: I never thought much of Ganyu, until I dreamt of her one night (which unspiringly inspired this fic) and now I'm hooked. Patiently awaiting her rerun.

She comes to you in a dream.

You can tell it’s her from the feeling of it. Warm. Comfortable. It loosens your muscles (if you even have muscles in dreams) and puts your mind at ease. It makes you sleepy, wanting to lie down on the soft hills of grass under the shade of a tree to take a nap.

You don’t know exactly where ‘this’ is, whether or not it’s in the fields of your home, Liyue, or some other place. It looks like Liyue, with the craggy mountains behind you, and the bubbling stream running down the hill. But it feels different.

Then, you see her.

You don’t know what – or who – she is exactly, because you can never get a clear view of her. Everything blurs around her body. But you know she’s there, know she’s waiting for you. Sitting in a pocket of empty grass, sounded by glaze lilies, feet tucked underneath her as she naps.

She starts when you approach, uncurling herself to sit up properly. She smiles. She says your name – at least you think it’s your name, it feels like your name – and pats the spot beside her.

You wade through the flowers and sit down, so close to her that your legs are touching. It’s rather close even for friends, but with her, it feels right. How it should be.

She never talks much. For a dream or a vision, she never has much to say. Only whispering in a soft voice about how pretty the flowers are, or how beautiful the day is. The silence is good. A brief period of peace.

(Peace from what? You always wonder when you wake, but no matter how many times you re-enter the dream, you always forget to ask.)

This dream always ends in the same way.

“You should get some rest,” she says.

“What about you?” you always respond, the words feel foreign in your mouth – like they’re not yours.

She shakes her head. “I’ll be alright. Rest, and have peaceful dreams.”

You rest your head in her lap, as you’ve done a thousand times before. Her hand cradles your head, brushing through your hair lovingly.

“Who are you?” “Why are you doing this?” “What is this?” – You always want to ask, but no matter what you try, the words never come out, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth.

Just like every time, your eyes grow heavy, your body grows weak, and you close your eyes, falling asleep once more.

…

When you wake, you’re never in the flowery fields anymore, but in bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of noise vibrates through the wall, employees at the Inn already getting up to do their daily tasks.

You sigh and rub your eyes, rolling around for another ten minutes before finally getting up.

By the time you dress and leave your room, you’ve forgotten all about the dream.

---

“Good morning, Mrs. Goldet,” you great sleepily, rubbing your eyes.

Verr Goldet looks up from the counter and nods. “Good morning, sleep well?”

You give the cat laying on the counter a few scratches. “As good as always. I had a nice dream.”

She blinks slowly. “What did you dream of?”

You turn away, heading out of the doorway to start your chores. “Her. As always.”

As you disappear, Verr Goldet’s brows furrow and she frowns. It dissolves the second a customer walks into the lobby, ready to check in.

---

You’ve been working and living at the Wangshu Inn for a while now. Free room and food for helping out every day, with Sundays off. It’s a good deal.

You do odd tasks around the Inn, helping out in the kitchen, moping the floors whenever travelers track in mud from the marsh – things like that.

Days are spent polishing the balconies, evenings are spent wiping down dinner tables, and you when the moon is high in the sky, you sleep.

And dream.

---

There are many people in the crowd, packed tight together under the hot midday sun. Guili plains is alive in celebration. Booths are set up on either side of the streets, the smell of delicious food wafts through the air, and colorful decorations hang everywhere. You push through them, scanning the sea of heads for a particular person. She’s not hard to miss, but everywhere you turn, she evades your sight. Anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach – the speech will start soon, and you want to be with her when it begins.

A cold hand falls on your shoulder. Turning around, you sigh with relief.

“There you are,” you yell over the noise of the crowd. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She smiles, showing off fresh Qingxin flowers in her hand. “Sorry, I was distracted by a stall. Would you like some?”

You take her free hand and kiss it. A red blush forms on the apples of her cheeks. “They’re all yours.”

Hand in hand, the two of you make your way towards an elaborate stage, raised high above the people, crafted out of rock and decorated with gold. Many people are gathered around, waiting patiently, holding umbrellas to protect from the sun or fanning themselves off with whatever they have. The two of you take your seats just as the theatrics begin.

There’s a cry, and a point of fingers as the audiences’ attention is turned towards the sky. Hailing in rays of light are two of the Adeptus, taking the form of cranes. One of them a gold and orange, the other blue and white.

Cloud Retainer, you’ve heard (?????) call her Adeptus.

They land on stage and spread their wings out in a flourish.

“People of Guili,” Cloud Retainer begins. Her voice ringing out like a crystal bell. “On behalf of all the Adepti we would like to welcome you here.”

“We hope you have all enjoyed the festivities,” the gold and orange bird speaks next. “Today’s celebration marks not only the anniversary of the creation of Guili, but to also pay homage to the warriors that have fought and are still fighting in the ongoing war. Because of the date’s significance, the Lord of Geo and Lady of Dust have decided to bless all of use with their presence.”

The two birds spread their wings once more. Cloud Retainer raises her head high in the air. “People of Guili, I now present to you, the Lord of Geo – Morax and the Lady of Dust – Guizhong.”

At the mention of their Gods, the people break into a round of applause, this only increases when a man and woman appear onstage, and everyone rises to show their respects. They’re both dressed beautifully, in fine silk-robes, adorned with smears of make-up around their eyes. Your goddess looks divine, accepting the praise with a warm smile. Morax, on the other hand, gazes out towards the crowd, sharp gold eyes piercing anything in his sight.

Morax – though you have nothing but respect for him – has always been a bit enigmatic to you. You can’t imagine what your Goddess sees in him. But their companionship has what lead you to become acquainted with her, so you’re not complaining.

Morax steps forth on stage, raising a hand. The crowd goes silent instantly.

“Thank you for the warm welcome,” Morax’s voice is rich and calm. Beside you, your companion is sitting at full attention, gnawing on her bottom lip in anxiety. She startles as you place a hand over hers. She smiles thankfully, some of the tension leaving her, before returning her full attention to the couple on stage.

“This land has seen many years of fighting,” your Lord’s words are wispy yet firm, just like dust being blown through the wind. “Many, many people have suffered at the bloody hands of war. Such heinous acts stain the land red, spreading sorrow on every inch of the earth.”

She gathers a breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is strong, that of a warrior who has fought in battle. “But not here. Guili will be – is – a place where there is respite. It’s the beginning of the future, a future where the monsters of today are nothing but a kids-bedtime story in the future.”

Guizhong touches her chest with one hand, the other extending out towards the crowd. “I make this vow to you now – my precious people – we will fight to protect the lives of each and every one of you. I promise you security, prosperity, and peace. One day, the bloodshed will end, and I promise you, when that time comes, when the dust has finally settled, we will lead you into the new age of Liyue. To this, I swear on the very ground I walk upon.”

There is nothing but pride, joy, and determination emanating from the crowd, applauding the Lady’s finest speech. Even Morax is smiling at her, the small corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

Cool fingers squeeze yours. Looking over, there are tears in your friend’s eyes. She blinks them away, the wind tousling her blue hair.

She’s beautiful. Your heart squeezes painfully as you fight the urge to lean over and kiss her.

You squeeze her hand back, letting all of your hopes, feelings, and things unsaid pool between the two of you.

---

There is an Adeptus at the Wangshu Inn.

You know little of the Adepti, but seeing the boy (being?) in front of you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he is one.

His sharp eyes slide over to meet yours, run up and down your person, before returning to your face, then back to staring at the marsh.

“Sir Xiao?” you ask. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

Xiao doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were warned he would be like this - bitterly stubborn and unresponsive.

You settle the plate down by your feet. “It’ll be here if you feel like eating.”

You wait a minute longer, but Xiao doesn’t make a peep. You sigh and turn to go back inside.

“Do you remember Guili?” he whispers suddenly, so quiet you nearly mistake it for being the wind.

You spin around. “Do I what?”

“Guili. Remember Guili.”

“…Remember? It’s an ancient ruin,” your brows furrow as you frown. “I’ve only been there maybe once or twice, passing by.”

A painful second goes by.

“Why, am I supposed to know something about it?”

From what you can see of his face, Xiao grimaces. “Nothing, just – just forget it.”

“You can’t just-”

“I said forget it,” he snaps, his voice cracking at the end of his words. “You don’t – I thought you – ” He rubs his face with his hand, breaths deeply. “It’s nothing. Please just leave.”

He gets up suddenly and leaps from the balcony before you can even speak. Leaving both the tofu and you alone on the balcony, a cold ache spreading through your heart.

---

She’s nervous, you think. Abnormally so.

Jueyun Karst is safe, kept watch over by Morax’s Adepti and the Qilin in the clouds. Only select few are allowed up where you are – (There was a smug steak of satisfaction when Cloud Retainer begrudgingly let you traverse her abode atop the mountains, Ganyu smiling gleefully as she held your hand.) – and even less are allowed to set foot on the sacred lands.

She’s been shifting for the past hour, unable to focus on conversation and jittery. Ever so often, she rubs her hands over her horns in a pacifying motion, then as if realizing what she’s doing, abruptly tears her hands away.

“Is the upcoming battle bothering you?” you ask, finally, not being able to stand her fidgeting much longer.

She stiffens, surprised that she’s been found out, and dips her head in embarrassment. “Oh. No, it’s not that…”

“…Ok. If not that, then what?”

She swallows thickly. She turns to you, taking both of your hands in hers, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I was wondering…I mean I hope,” she starts, nervously. “That after this is over…all of it…that maybe…you’d, um…”

You’re patient, gently prompting her, “I’d?”

“W-well, that we could…?” she trails off, squeezing your hands again. “That this…could be s-something more.”

Oh. Oh.

Your chest heats as you lean forwards, whispering her name to the wind. She squeaks raising her head.

“I like you,” you sigh, unable to stop the loving cadence in your tone when you say it. “A lot. So whatever concerns you have just know that…anything you want is…it’s all good.”

She’s silent for a moment as your heart pounds against your ribs. Slowly, she tilts her head towards yours, resting your foreheads together. Her cheeks are so hot, unlike the cryo vision strapped to her side.

“I like you a lot, too,” she says. “I don’t really have…any…experience with something like this but um…I’d like to try.”

Your heart soars, leaps, and does a flip twice over. You smile so hard your cheeks hurt. “Can I ask you a question, now?”

She blinks, nodding her head.

“May I kiss you?”

She wets her lips with her tongue and nods again, vigorously.

You close the distance, firmly kissing her lips. They’re soft and plush, warmer than you’d imagined. (Because you have imagined this, many, many nights before.) A mix between a gasp and a pleasured sigh escapes her, the noise only heating you up further.

When you pull back, she’s turned three different shades of pink and her eyes are glazed. You rest your head against hers and wrap your arms around her waist, feeling the curves and dips of her body, squeezing at the skin there.

“Good?” you ask.

She nods, tucking her head onto your shoulder. “Mhm.”

At some point, you lie down together, tangled in limbs, listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing and heart beats as Liyue’s night sky sparkles with constellations.

It’s only much later, when you hear the screams, that you realize peace is fleeting in this world.

---

You pant heavily, setting the last box down on the ground and flop on the stairs. Five in total, weighing gods know how much. Each one filled to the brim with legal documents from Liyue Harbor. You had suffered through carrying them one-by-one up the stairs as the elevator had conveniently decided to break this morning.

You push the box with your foot, sliding it with the others against the wall. If this is how much paperwork the Inn gets, you don’t even want to know how much paperwork the Qixing have to deal with. (Then again, it was the Qixing that dictated the laws, so perhaps it was well deserved.)

Verr Goldet had taken one look at them and called it an early day, leaving you to handle closing.

At least your day is done now. You hang the keys up in their proper place, pet the cat goodnight, and begin blowing out the lanterns.

“Um…excuse me?”

The sudden voice startles you, turning towards the entrance. A figure stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight. You can’t make their identity out.

“Could I speak to Mrs. Goldet? It’s about the recent delivery of paperwork.”

“Mrs. Goldet is away right now; I could take a message?”

The person nods, steps through the threshold, and your mouth goes dry.

She’s tall. Eloquently dressed with hair the color of Glaze Lilies. It frames her face, falling down her back in delicate curls. As you stare, stary eyes blink back at you in shock.

She seems familiar.

“I’m…sorry…” she says, turning away quickly. “I-I’ll just come back tomorrow-”

The tassel of her outfit swings as she does a complete 180. Her hair is furled out, exposing the smooth expanse of her back. The sight sends a throb to your temple, the scene feeling reminiscent of…something.

Your head is aching.

“W-wait!” you reach out and grab her arm, catching on the cuff of her sleeve. The motion rattles the necklace around her neck – no, not a necklace – a bell. The chime crisp like morning frost, soft like the way she feels, like the way she-

Pain bursts from your temples, piercing both sides of your head. You cry, loosing your grip in the process. There’s a muffled yell before the world blurs, spins, and sends you tumbling down, down, down, into the dark.

And then, there’s a hallow nothing.

---

She comes to you in a dream, but Liyue is not as it once was.

There is fire everywhere you look, the ground scorched by flames or destroyed in the aftermath of intense fights. The air is thick with smog, choking you with each gasp you take. One of your legs isn’t working and blood pools through your fingers pressed tightly against your side. You don’t know how much further you can make it.

You hobble through destroyed fields, corpses littering the ground, blood seeping into the earth. All of the glaze lilies are gone, wiped out in the destruction.

You cross the river on one leg. You slip on a rock and lose your footing, collapsing into the water. It’s freezing, the sensation colliding with the burn of your wound. You shiver and suck air through your chattering teeth, dragging yourself using your arms. Your side screams in pain at every pull, black spots dance in your vision. You grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the dirt, pushing forward.

Not yet, you can’t die just yet.

You exhaust yourself at the edge of what used to be the flower field, rolling onto your back and wheezing at the sky. This is as far as you’ll go. Mud soaks through your clothes. You dig your fingers into it, grounding yourself from the searing pain.

You hear the chime of her bell before you see her, crisp and pleasant, soothing your mind. She cries out your name, fear and desperation in her voice. You call back, a cracked, soft groan.

The bell draws closer and she rushes to your side, kneeling in the dirt. Her hair’s a mess, dirty and singed. Her sleeve is torn, blood dripping down her pale forearm. She pulls you onto her lap and rushes to tend to your wounds, pressing a hand to your side. She’s never been a healer, only a fighter. A strong fighter. Stronger than you could have ever hoped to be.

“You’ll be fine,” she says to herself more than you. She nudges you gently. “Please stay awake just a bit longer.”

You take her hand and squeeze it tight. Smiling takes all of the will you have, and even then, it’s weak. “It’s alright.”

She shakes her head. Her eyes – such pretty eyes – wide and filled with tears. “Please don’t go. I can’t…”

“Morax,” you croak. “There’s still him.” Your goddess, Guizhong might be gone, but he’s still alive. As enigmatic as he is, you know she’ll be safe in his care.

“I care about that!” she shouts, for the first time ever, her anger directed at you. “I’m not talking about a god to follow, I’m talking about you!”

She’s sobbing now, her eyes swollen red, teeth clenched tightly through her gasps. She curls around you, fingers grasping at your bloody clothes.

You lean your head into her, offering what little comfort someone dying can offer their partner.

“I’m sorry, Ganyu…” The life is fading from your body, your fingers and toes are so, so cold. “For leaving you like this…”

She gives up on the wound, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her head onto your chest, over her heart. Pitiful whimpers leave her mouth, awful sounds that make your heart ache.

“I love you,” she confesses, the words coming out as a sob. “I love you.”

Your heart squeezes. “I love you too, please…”

But the words don’t come. The ache in your side is almost unbearable, growing worse and worse with each shallow breath you manage. You fight to keep your eyelids open, but you’re so tired. And sleep has never been more appealing.

“Rest, now,” she coos, combing your matted hair from your face. You feel the small, delicate press of chapped lips on your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The void calls, gathering you into its arms, wrapping you in a warm bundle; warning you that your time’s up. You fight against it a bit longer, mustering up the last of your consciousness to tell Ganyu – you friend, partner, lover, one final thing.

“Forgive yourself.”

She bites her lip, fresh tears forming in her eyes. She nods. You’re relieved.

Her form wavers, and you know you can’t stay any longer. You let your eyelids close, your breathing slows, and you give yourself to eternal sleep.

…

“Sweet Dreams…” she whispers after a long while, in a soft, saddened voice.

---

You wake up alone, sweating in your bed, in tears, and remember.

---

The climb to Quicing Village is long and straining. You could have taken the path to the west, but stubborn as you were, wanted to save time by scaling the mountain.

You don’t know what drew you to this place, only a tugging at your heart forcing you forward. A firm belief that you’re heading where you need to go.

It’s easier the further up you go. You’ve done this before, in another life, as another person. You remember scaling mountains all the time, just to pick the freshest Qingxin petals for her. You used to eat them together, on the tops of Mount Azjong, legs dangling in midair, watching the birds go by, the wind nipping at your skin.

It’s not long before you reach the top, where the path dips to overlook the village. Fields of red, blue, and yellow stretching over the lands.

You let yourself wander, talking to the villagers as you go. Everyone is so nice, excited to talk to a new stranger in town. The air’s so fresh and the grass is so green, it reminds you of those days in the fields of glaze lilies.

You almost stop breathing when a familiar scent flows by on the wind. Sweet, fresh, cool. One you’re very well acquainted with. You rush forward, running towards the smell faster than your legs can carry you.

She’s sitting in a field of flowers. Just like the ones in your dreams, except there’s only one glaze lily, resting by her knees and cupped in her palms. You slow down and take the stone paths carefully, as to not to disturb the environment.

You stop just behind her, clearing your throat. She startles with a jump, turning around. Your face heats in embarrassment.

“Ah…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Her lips, which are slightly parted, close. She shakes her head. “It’s quite alright…I was just enjoying the day.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

She pauses, then nods wordlessly. You settle down in the grass beside her, a visible gap between the two of you. There are many things you are unsure of. Does she even want you here anymore? Does she just want to forget what happened?

“[First] is your name, correct?” she says eventually.

“Oh – yes, it is.”

She nods, staring out over the river. Another silence befalls you.

“I’ve dreamt of you,” you blurt. “For a while. It comes back in chunks. The memories of my past.”

“That usually happens with reincarnation. The soul is the same but the body and mind doesn’t remember, plagued by shadows of a past life.”

You swallow down your nerves, trying not to focus on how your voice shakes. “In that past life, were we…were we…lovers?”

Her fists clench on her lap. She takes a shaky inhale and nods.

“Oh…” Is all you can say. You knew – know? But to heart it out loud is…

“You look just like you did all those years ago,” Ganyu murmurs sadly. “I’ve never forgotten your face.”

A heavy, hot weight settles in your chest. “How long has it been?”

“Thousands of years…since before the Arcon war,” Ganyu rubs her eyes with her palm. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You wait until she composes herself before you speak again. “I remember in the past, you asked me to share a future with you.”

Ganyu turns to face you, and desire flares up inside your chest. Dark and powerful, urging you to pull her close and into your arms.

“I did.” She says.

“I’m not…the same person from the past. I don’t know who or how I was, and I don’t know if I’ll ever return to remembering anything. But…”

Cool fingers rest on your lap, you shudder at the touch. Ganyu smiles gently, and there’s a feeling of deja-vu when she says. “But…?”

“But if you’ll have me, I would like – I’d really like to – to try. With you.”

Ganyu scoots to the side, until your thighs are touching, and hums softly. “I think I’d like that, too.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and squeeze her fingers tightly. She smells sweet and floral, the scent overwhelming your body, making your head drift and spin. You’ve never smelled anything more right.

“I hope this isn’t rude, but you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

She flushes deeply, smile spreading across her face. “You told me that before, thousands of years ago, when you first met me.”

You smile back, tucking a piece of stray hair from her face. “Well, it’s true.”

---

As much as two immortals (???) might have just rushed back into dating, neither of you wanted that.

You two talked. A lot. About your current lives and past. You talked about Wangshu, about your occupation, about Xiao. (“Don’t mind him,” Ganyu had said. “Xiao’s always a bit cold, even to the other Adepti.”) Ganyu talked about the harbor, about your past lives in Guili.

You might not ever get your memories fully back. But even if you don’t, you feel surprisingly calm and accepting of it.

At the end of the day, after both of your throats were hoarse from conversation and your eyes wet from emotion, you both decided to part ways.

She returns to Liyue Harbor. You return to the Wangshu Inn.

Temporarily, you promised, until you figured yourself out. Liyue Harbor is daunting, the populated streets reminding you too much of Guili, of memories you can’t remember, that make your head ache terribly.

You stay at Wangshu. In the mornings, you mop floors, dust paintings, and help fix the elevator. At evenings, you go to the top floor and eat plates of Almond Tofu with Xiao, staring longingly towards the Harbor.

And at night, when you go to bed, you don’t dream of the past, but of your future.

---

One day, when you return to an empty room, and your heart aches with loneliness and the desire to see her becomes too painful to bear, you decide it’s time to go.

---

Liyue is calm, today.

The clouds drift by idly, whisps of white against blue as birds soar on the random wind currents. The sun shines high in the sky, slowly making its way across the map.

“Stop moving,” you grumble, locking your arms tightly around her, burying your face into her chest.

Ganyu chuckles, carding her hands through your hair. “I’m sorry, did I disturb you?”

“Yes…I was having a good nap.” Which is true. Ever since your reunion, you’ve been sleeping more soundly than you ever have in years. Perhaps it’s because you don’t dream of the old anymore, don’t float through your memories like a puppet being pulled on a string.

“You’ve had enough time to rest, I think,” she says tartly. “Thousands of years’ worth.”

You lift your head and pout. “You’re so cruel,” But your words don’t hold any bite.

Ganyu smiles mischievously. Her hand trails down your spine, drawing a shiver from you. “Do you think it’s unfair? To not indulge me after I’ve waited for you all this time?”

You drag yourself up to be eye level with her. Your hand cups the back of her head, trailing up to the base of her horns. A gasp escapes her lips and her eyes flutter when you tenderly pet them.

“If you wanted my attention,” you whisper, lips an inch from hers. “You could have just asked.”

Ganyu pulls you down by the neck, sighs and gasps being lost to the wind.

---

Much later, when the two of you were sweating and grass was stuck in both of your hair, you lay together, dozing under the night sky. Ganyu lays curled to your side, feet tucked underneath her, a content purr vibrating from her throat. You wonder if all Qilin do that.

As you pet her hair, fingers rubbing curiously over her empty ring finger, a deep feeling of content seeps into your bones.

You’re home, at last.

You kiss her forehead, joining her into a peaceful dream.

#i cant beleive this is so long ganyu my love #ganyu x reader #ganyu x you #genshin impact #ganyu imagines #genshin impact imagines #my writing #genshin impact fanfiction

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