#there was even a small child dressed as a fairy who approached me and said that she liked my outfit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evycloudberry · 9 months

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* note: I am writing this as (Y/N) being a fire fairy.

* note: I did not name the friends, so all readers can ‘personalize’ this story easily. They are mentioned according to their ability.

Disclaimer: swearing, mention of drinking/alcohol, mention of sexual gestures

Find the others part here

Taglist: @slytherinambitious @ellatitanium @untalentedsideoffandoms

Begin Again (Part 7)

On that same day, after their morning work and practice, the group rejoice at their usual lunch table.

There were conversations yet the discomfort was palpable. The girls on their way crossed Zaine, and (Y/N) happily invited him to eat with them.

Riven was on a near table with Sky, and his girlfriend Bloom, along with an earth fairy, that looked oddly familiar. But (Y/N) friends couldn’t seem to understand why she suddenly was there.

(Y/N) was completely oblivious of what was going on, she was chatting and making good conversation with Zaine, who grew increasingly touchy, rubbing her shoulder, playing with her hair, and moving strands away from her face.

She smiled even more. Mischievously. Bringing her drink to her lips, when Stella, one of Bloom’s best friend rushed over to her.

“I am sorry.. well not really. Better me than anyone to bring you this” she urged, handing her a small card, adorned with (Y/N) family’s seal.

She looked in Stella’s hands, noticing a similar card.

She quickly went serious, took her courage in both hand before opening the small card. Her face went pale.

“I guess we got the same news.. I believe our afternoon is scheduled” Stella said.

“Thank you Stella, I appreciate you bringing it..”

“Good lucks are in orders” she smile anxiously

“Absolutely.. go ahead, I’ll be a minute”

“Are you alright ?” Asked Zaine when she left

Hesitating, she turned towards the group, mustering a smile, and hummed in response.

“So, my family will be here soon.”

“Would you like us to be there?” Asked her water fairy friend

“No, I’ll managed..” she played with the card a bit before adding “actually.. I have a bad memory of our last get together.. but.. I don’t remember exactly why.. I mean I suppose it was about our usual differences..” taking a breath she got up “I need to catch up with Stella. I will see you tomorrow”

Zaine caught her hand and rubbing it gently he said “if you need to talk afterward, or during their visits because they are annoying, I am here for you”

She hesitated before thanking him and pulling her hand free.

Preparing wasn't overly difficult, but stress weighed heavily on them. She got dressed in Stella’s suit, after bringing everything she would need over.

Once downstairs and outside, they awaited the arrival of the cars. The manicured hedges, pristine path, and clear water didn't calm their racing hearts. A long red carpet was laid out, adding to the grandeur of the moment.

"It's just one day," Stella attempted to reassure.

"The card didn't provide any details."

"They may have planned activities, and perhaps your family is staying longer to spend time with you. That's rather nice of them," Stella mused.

(Y/N) side-glanced at her knowingly.

"I know, that's a stretch! I'm just hoping it won't—"

At that moment the first car pulled on the road, followed by another, and another.

“Stella who else is coming ?”

“No body! I mean I don’t know, I don’t have more information than you.. oh god”

This was worse than they would have anticipating.

(Y/N) stood a bit backwards as Stella’s family car approached. Her mother was alone, they greeted before Queen Luna approached her.

Now, (Y/N)'s family's car stopped. Her heart pounded harder, and her hands tensed. As the door opened, her brother emerged, and relief washed over her as they warmly hugged. Their father followed, extending his hand to her mother.

Her father's joviality was apparent as he embraced her before greeting Queen Luna. However, her mother's demeanor remained stern and stoic.

"Hello, Mother," (Y/N) initiated, striving to control her voice.

"Child," her mother responded dryly, then turned to Queen Luna, offering a welcoming smile and open arms.

(Y/N) couldn't tear her eyes away from the last car.

“Dad and I tried to prevent it.. but we failed” said her brother on a barely whisper voice.

A middle-aged couple emerged from the car, accompanied by a young man. She froze, eyeing Stella.

Quick greetings ensued, with the mothers leading the way, seemingly ignoring the rest of the party.

A room was cleared at the Garden globe, a room the girls did not even know existed. They had supper, and (Y/N) was glad to see her brother again. Stella and her even had a chat with the young gentleman. It was going smoothly, so smoothly that her mother stood up, for a toast. Expressing gratitude to everyone, her mother's final words left (Y/N) and Stella stunned. "This seems like the perfect time to share the news. Please, Aldrich, stand." Aldrich rose, beaming. "Starting today, I'm proud to call you a son and welcome you into our family."

(Y/N)'s gaze darted to Stella, who mirrored her confusion.

"Um, Mother, I'm a bit lost. Are (Y/Bro/N) and Aldrich to be wed ?" (Y/N) almost laughed, the absurdity a mix of stress and confusion.

"No, my dear. You are."

In that instant, the calm shattered, and turmoil took over the moment.

Part 8

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thefandomdirtymind · 5 months

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Christmas traditions

Disclaim : It's a Alternative Universe version of Taz who never decided to actually became an actor and just decided to write play. It had been inspired by that adorable video and a post I saw saying that we should put Taz in a Rom-Com so well I did loll I hope you will like it and a merry Holiday season !

Taz AU

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

---

The holidays, like every year, were illuminating with his colorful light and magical decorations the streets of London. From the shopping district of Carnaby street to the Buckingham palace itself, the capital was ready to celebrate.

In a more modest corner of the city, where the cold wind of december was also making known his presence. Taz was burying his hands in the pocket of his jacket, his destination, a small theater stuck in a sandwich between an indie coffee shop and a vinyl seller, already in his field of view.

Waiting in line for the opening of the door, many adults and childrens were braving the winter weather, a small paper cup of hot beverage in most hands. When two teenagers, dressed up in red and green velvet costumes were entertaining the kids.

For months now, Taz had helped his friend Thomas plan this event. Trying to give a wonderful and magical Christmas moment to the less fortunate family, working with charities and organizations to give and share with those childrens a memory they would cherish for the years to come.

Writing a play about a Christmas fairy tale wasn’t usually his cup of tea. But, after much encouragement from his friend and research about christmas folklore, he had finally finished the script, hoping it would put a smile on their small faces.

Pushing the door of the artist entry, the recomforting noise of last minute check up greeting him, Taz smiled. Of course, seeing his play being performed on stage was alway magical, but, the behind the scene and the conception of the magic was also one of his favorite parts.

“ Taz ! You’re just in time, where about to start. Did you see all those families outside ! “ His friend exclaimed, his toddler daughter in his arms, juggling to keep the child comfortable and his clipboard away from any scribbling incident.

“ Yeah, it's amazing man ! It has brought so many people, will you have enough stuff for the kids ? He asked, waving gently to the little girl “ Hello princess Emma “

“ Uncle Z !!” Emma exclaimed, waving his little hand, joy radiating off his little two year old body.

“ I hope so, for the moment everything is under control ” Tom said, turning his head to the side before sighing in relief. “Thank god Y/n had been able to pass the security “

“ Wait Tom. She’s here, why is Y/N here ? “ Taz asked, another type of knock suddenly invading his stomach.

“ She had offered her help to babysit Emma when I was busy on stage, why ? “ Tom replied, watching now his friend with an amused smile on his lips “ Is that about your little crush ? “

“ Dude, I don’t have a crush, I’m not twelve “ He replied, rolling his eyes. “ I just didn’t have much chance to talk to her that all “

“ Well you will tonight, because she and Emma will be seated with you “ The man mischiefly said before agitating his clipboard above his head, signaling their position to the woman. “ Y/N Here ! “

Watching you approach, admiring the simple but cute look you had chosen to wear for the evening, the multiple tones of light of the room accentuating your natural beauty as a small straw of your hair caressed your cheeks. Taz felt his heart miss a beat.

Being shy wasn’t in his usual nature. Yet, when it came to you he often had trouble understanding himself. Since the first time he saw you placing those books, perched in the ladders at Thomas bookstore, he hadn’t been able to forget you. Neither that summons enough courage to tell you more than two words he instantly judged stupid.

“ Hi! i’m sorry to be late, I had some late customers “ You apologize, taking the little girl in your arms “ Hello miss Emma, is that a new dress ? “

Happy of the attention, the little girl nodded proudly, kicking his feet in an attempt of showing her, as well, new little mary-sue shoes.

“ Adorable” You commented, adjusting the child on your arms before meeting the gaze of Taz. “ Hello Taz” You said, a soft smile spreading in your lips.

When Thomas had introduced you, a few months earlier, you weren't sure what to think exactly of his gorgeous friend. You had heard so many stories of crazy adventures they had, before the bookkeeper decided to settle down after he adopted Emma. That you aren’t sure how to react when, to steal the words of your boss, a walking beam of sunshine, was preferring to isolate himself in the small office, that talks to you. Of course he had been polite and you knew perfectly that the man had a job to do, so you had tried to help him as much as you could, bringing him books on winter folklore and often little snacks when you noticed he was still in the office after many hours. But, after a while of two word discussions and half-smile, you had simply deduced that sunshine Taz disliked you.

Until one night, as you were preparing to close the store, your manager asked you the strangest question.

“ Y/N, did Taz talk to you today ? “ He asked, putting the day's money in the bank envelope.

“Other than asking for a book, no, why ? “ You replied. Placing the last book of your pile at his place.

“ Nothing, it’s just kinda funny and refreshing to see him out of words for once” Thomas laugh “ I hope he put them all in that play “

But, by the time you realized the meaning of his words, Taz had finished the script and was passing less time at the bookstore than before.

“ Hi Y/N” The man simply replied, fidgeting like most of the time with one of his rings.

“ Everybody in place, it’s time to open the door ! “ You heard as the gaze of Taz was still lingering in you.

Wishing Thomas to break his leg, you slowly make your way to your seat, trying to focus our attention on the little girl and not your flustered cheeks.

As Taz was trying to focus on the play, his winter fairies and other magical creature taking life before is eyes, he couldn’t entirely stay still, trying to catch of the corner of his eyes the manies expression of joy and magnificence as he could, even if right now, your was by far his favorite.

A smile plastered on your lips,the little girl clapping his hands on your laps, you seem to enjoy as much, if not more, the ferric world in front of you than many of the kids.

When Santa Claus came on stage,to the joy of the kids but signaling the end of the performance and the debut of the other activities, he left out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

As everybody left their seat, taking the direction of the festivity room, he simply followed you, taking one of Emma's little hands as you were holding the others.

“ Congratulations Taz, it was amazing “ You told him, as the little girl in his arms was dancing to the christmas music in the room, putting a tender and amused smile on his lips.

“ Thanks, the book you gave me had helped a lot “ He replied as the child was now contortion herself to be put down.

“ Olin !! Uncle Z down, down !! “ She screamed, surprising Taz as you let out a little laugh.

Putting down Emma, Taz confused, looked her ran to a little boy not much older that three.

“ Ahem, I guess I will have to break the terrible news to you. Our little Emma here is kinda in a terrible scandal you see, she had kissed little Colin on the cheeks at the yesterday reading event. But, last week it had been the little Anthony over there, when he saw it he had claimed on the spot he will marry her, even if rumor said that he had promised the same thing to his own mother. “ You softly laugh, looking at the small childrens dancing all together.

“ I’m truly heart broken” Taz laughed, the usual tension he was feeling around you dissipating slowly under your radiating smile. Of course you had smiled on many occasions before. Yet,maybe it was the situation,or the way you had told the fun little child gossip, but he suddenly felt more relaxed around you. “ It was actually a great story, we should maybe do a play about it ”.

“ Absolutely” You nodded, laughing at your turn. “ I will close the store tomorrow, maybe you can come and we will see what could happen…in that play ?” You softly suggest, hoping that you didn’t misunderstood Thomas.

“ Yes that..that could be great “ Taz replied, clearly surprised before offering you a joyful smile.

“ ncle Z, ncle Z ! “ Emma exclaimed, jumping to attract his attention,trying to catch his hand.” Want to see Santa !”

As the event ended,the two of you weren't able to talk much, between taking care of Emma and helping Thomas with the details. However, as you were putting on your coat, you heard him call for you, the little girl fondly asleep against his shoulder.

“ See you tomorrow then ? “ He asked, that damn pretty smile on his lips.

“ See you tomorrow” You confirmed, smiling as well.

—

The next day, with your flow of customers trying to be ready for Christmas, didn’t give you much time to be nervous about your evening meeting.

However, as you were turning the little Close sign, wishing your last customers a Merry Christmas, the little excitement caught you and gave your smile a little extra spark.

As Taz was stepping in the close little bookstore, you were patiently waiting for him, a winter folklore book in front of you.

“ Hey” He greeted you, smiling, closing the door.

“Hey “ You replied, smiling as well, leaving your seat to meet him at the door. “ I was thinking of all those tradition and folklore you had put in your play and I realize that Thomas was right, you had miss a really important one”

“ Oh ?” Taz asked, watching your smile take that adorable turn he had so often saw when you were joking with Thomas.

“ The mistletoe “ You answer, pointing at the little branch newly installed above the door. “ Of course it's an old and outdated tradition but…”

But, you never finish your thought as the lips of Taz meet yours, his cold hand seizing your waist.

“ I think I should definitely learn more about this one” He softly laugh against your lips

Laughing, you came back for another kiss, ignoring the little snow starting to fall on London, creating your own mini Christmas fairy tale.

#Taz Skylar #Taz Skylar Au #Christmas

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iwadori · 3 years

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Can you write a pure angst, using 10 and 35 please ( Idc about the characters ) :)

Getting hurt with the haikyu boys part 3 (Iwaizumi)

Part one Part Two Part three

Word count: 2.8K

Genre: pure angst

Authors Note: I am sorry for just how shit it is lol. I had an idea and it kind of got worse as it went along but I hope you like it anyways.

You were pregnant.

You wanted to cry.

You stared at the test in front of you. Two lines. Positive. There was no denying it, as much as you wanted it to be negative. You could tell you were pregnant before you even took the test, all the throwing up you were doing, the nausea you felt when certain foods were being cooked at work and the ongoing foot and back pains you felt.

Iwaizumi first approached you at your job, some shitty dinner that only paid you enough so you can make ends meet. You could tell he had money, the way he dressed, his demeanor even the way he talked. ‘What was a man like this doing here?’ you thought.

Apparently, he’s seen you around for a while, your city was small you’d only really leave this place if you had a fair god mother or died and of course you are clearly alive and don’t have a fairy god mother...until you met him.

He ordered a coffee, didn’t drink it though (probably knowing that your boss spat it in whenever he was in a bad mood or because he just needed an excuse to be around) just waiting for you to finish your break. You sat in a corner booth for ‘privacy,’ not that anybody was even in the place.

“My names Iwaizumi Hajime” he said keeping a blank facial expression

“What do you wan-”

“Miss L/N, I think I’ll do the talking here. Okay?” he said with a smirk appearing on his face after seeing your slightly shocked face when he revealed knowing your last name.

“I’ve seen you around for a while now, you’re beautiful you know that right?” he said making your cheeks heat up a bit. “Anyways, I think you’re gorgeous and a man like me needs a pretty girl like you on his arms. By the lack of response to my name, I assume you don’t know who I am...but I guess that works in my favour”

Your face is getting bored by the second not really listening as he rambles on about himself, “I need you to be on my arm every night that I go out to one of my boring business meetings.”

“Business meetings?” you ask

“You know, a bunch of ‘business’ people go out and talk ‘business’ together.” he said sarcastically as if you were stupid.

“I know that, I just thought you’d elaborate about it.” You sighed “What do I get out of this?”

“Finally, you’ve gotten to the interesting part, you my dear get money and lots of It” he says finally catching your attention “I’ll pay you 1 million Yen per night, and all your dresses, outfits and expenses will be paid for so you won’t have to worry your pretty little head about finances again” he ‘smiled’ at you.

“What's the catch?” squinting your eyes

“The catch is just that you have to accompany me to all my events.... and you have to stay in my condo.”

“Wh-”

“Don’t worry dear, it’s a nice place” interrupting you “probably better than any shithole you live in”

“Fine, fine” his words were convincing you “Is there a contract you have for me to sign?” you ask wanting to at least be somewhat ‘protected.’

“No contract, just this verbal agreement. Between me and you right here right now.” he winked “so you’re in agreement of our arrangement?”

“Yes.”

That was your first mistake believing Iwaizumi Hajime.

Sure you could defend yourself now and say ‘I was poor and in need of help’ but you’d know it would just be you in denial talking.

The first time you attended a meeting with Iwaizumi, you came home from quitting your job since Iwaizumi said ‘you’re on my payroll now.’ You found a beautiful red dress laying on your bed accompanied with shoes and accessories and note saying, ‘I trust you to be able to do your own hair and make up my dear – I.H’

You didn’t have any family, or any friends. Most people that have had even a single encounter with you have deemed you to be ‘Not Likeable’ saying you’re not a people person or just lack any sociability. You were stuck in this town because of the debt your father has left you in before he supposedly ‘passed’ away. Leaving you drowning in all his financial woes, meaning you couldn’t go to university or become a professional *insert dream job here* like you wanted to be.

When you exited your building, you saw Iwaizumi leaning against a flashy car parked outside. “You chariot awaits m’lady” he says with a cheeky grin on his face making you roll your eyes. You got in the car and he started driving, humming along to a random song slightly agitating you.

“So, when are you moving to my place? It’s a part of the agreement.” he said in a sing song voice in the tune of what he was humming.

Iwaizumi reminded you of JD from heathers, he was nice when he wanted but he did have a screw loose that was triggered when things didn’t go his way. Like a small child who didn’t get the toy he wanted when he had a million other toys.

Him being the child. You being the toy.

“Our agreement is bullshit, just verbal.” you say mockingly “remember?”

“don’t start with me Y/N I'm not in a pleasant mood today” he says gritting his teeth “and I don’t need you fucking with me tonight.”

He puts his hand on your thigh, a little too harshly making you internally wince. “Okay here’s the rules for the night. You stay on my side for the night, only speak when spoken too, don’t drink too much since no one likes an alcoholic of course.”

“Oh, so all I need to do is sit pretty like a good little girl.” you say sarcastically

“Precisely” he lessens the grip on your thigh making you breathe in relief.

The event was boring to say the least, you did as Iwaizumi said stood next to him with a fake smile plastered on your face all through the night. You’re sure that people did ask you questions, but you were in your own little world only stepping out of it when Iwaizumi either pinched your arm or gripped your thigh.

The end of the night was ‘eventful’ to say the least, before you entered the car a hand wrapped around your waist and you were pulled into a back alley. “We couldn’t end the night so boring, could we?” it was Iwaizumi, of course it was.

He started peppering your neck with kisses and roaming his hands all over your body. He eventually trailed the kisses from your neck to your lips, leading you both into a full blown make out session. It was fast and you couldn’t really think straight. Iwaizumi was getting a bit too forceful, gripping and kissing harder than he needed to, leaving marks as if to say ‘you’re mine now.’

That was your second mistake. Getting sexual with Iwaizumi Hajime.

He said you had to go back to his house which was basically now yours. You complied, obviously had no other choice since he didn’t offer or ask. He told you too.

Waking up in the Iwaizumi residence was an ‘experience.’ Iwaizumi wanted you awake when he was awake and asleep when he was, never giving you a moment too yourself. You swiftly came to the learn of the reason why he wanted you in his ‘care’ (as he called it anyways) he wanted his eyes on you all the time.

You carried on attending the events bored out of your mind and the nights went the same way. Fancy dress, long car ride, not paying attention, getting fucked in the back alley then sleep in Iwaizumi’s expensive silk sheets.

You didn’t know much about Iwaizumi besides what you could find. In the day time, Iwaizumi spends it cooped up in his office whilst giving you the ‘permission’ to roam around the house. Iwaizumi kept all his important stuff in a small box under a creepy floorboard in his basement original idea I know. All the information in there was just stuff about generic stuff about his childhood. Him being brought up into wealth, how much he weighed as a baby and all the allergies and boring shit that he had.

Iwaizumi Hajime was an enigma.

You and Iwaizumi did get along. Sometimes. You did do things that weren’t strictly fucking and going to business meetings. He took you on what you could only be able to describe as dates, and outings showing you off to all his actual friends. That’s when you learnt the difference of the ‘two’ men, Iwaizumi and Hajime.

Although they were the same person by name, Iwaizumi was rough around the edges and cold at heart not caring about you at all. Hajime, whilst still being rough around the edges, basically made you out to be his girlfriend giving you the love and care you needed. You really liked the times when you were with Hajime.

That was your third mistake, falling in love with Iwaizumi Hajime.

As things progressed, your quality of life seemed to dwindle (not that it was great in the first place.) Iwaizumi was barely in the house, claiming that for these particular ‘business meetings’ he didn’t need you.

On one night, a simple phone call definitely changed your whole dynamic.

“Yes babe, I’m coming over tomorrow I can’t wait to see you and the girls again.” he said to the other person on the phone.

“Why do you question my love for you, of course I love you.” he said again

“I love you, the girls even the dumb dog that Haru forced me to get for her 8th birthday I love. You guys are my family. My lovely wife and out girls”

Your stomach churned, you backed out of the hallway that you were in. He had a family, of course he had a family. You went into the guest room, where you kept all your things, you couldn’t do this anymore. Although you pretty much lost all your morals when you formed this whole agreement but you refuse to sleep with a married man with kids. You couldn’t. Being the reason why a family might break up is something you wouldn’t ever do.

Iwaizumi heard all your commotion and entered the guess “Woah darling who’s moving out?” he asked jokingly

“Hmm probably your wife and kids, after they realise their husband is a CHEATER!” you spat

“Woah, woah Y/N” he said getting closer to you “You don’t know what the fuck you’re on about”

“I think I know pretty well; you’ve always been a pompous ass Iwaizumi; it was my bad for thinking that you weren’t married throughout all of this.” You finished packing up as much close as you possible can and headed out the room.

“You need to watch your mouth Y/N” he says aggressively

“Or what Iwaizumi, or should I say Hajime” you shout “Or is that only reserved for your WIFE!”

This seem to really tick him off, “You don’t know anything Y/N, you really think I could love a dirty slut like you? Huh? Well, I didn’t know that you were important enough to be able to know the details of my personal life.”

“I'm not a slut” you mumbled. Which was completely true, Iwaizumi didn’t notice that the first time you slept together was the first time that you slept with anyone.

“repeat that again for me y/n?” he said mockingly

“IM NOT A SLUT!” you shout in his face

“You are what I say you are darling”

“Fuck you.” You try and push past him hard, to get out the house but you’re no match against his anger and brute strength. So, when he slams you against the wall, he banging your head. Leaving you concussed and bleeding. Before you completely pass out all you hear is a repetition of Iwaizumi Hajime murmuring “I'm sorry, I’m sorry” whilst wrapping his arms around your comatose body.

You woke up, thinking that was all a dream but the ache in the back of your head proved otherwise.

“Y/N, darling your awake!” he said making you flinch

You moved away from him when he sat on your bed looking at you with ‘love’ and ‘care’ in his eyes. He goes to stroke your cheek whispering “you’re so be-”

“Fuck off” you say. That bang to the head was a wakeup call literally reminding you of all the hot and cold moments you had with Iwaizumi that you submerged into your head for the sole reason of ‘wanting to be happy.’ But you weren’t happy. Deep down you knew that.

“But y/n, darling I love you.” he said and you closed your eyes shut wanting to tune him out “I love you Y/N.”

“You don’t" you replied back harshly with your eyes still shut tightly

“But I do Y/N, I love you” he repeated the ‘I love you’s’ over and over making you want to scream out in frustation.

“Shut up!” you yelled “You don’t love me, stop saying that” your head throbbing with every word “Just stop. Make it stop! Kill me if you have to! Just make it stop” you say thumping at Iwaizumi’s chest becoming a hysterical crying mess. You weren’t talking about the physical paint he caused you (even though that hurt ALOT) you were talking about the constant heartache it was just being around him.

He didn’t know what to do. So, he just put his arms round you again and you yelled your frustrations about him to him into his chest.

You woke up into a new place, not your old one or Iwaizumis just something brand new.

With a note on your bed side table saying:

‘I love you and I’m sorry’

Making you tear it up and toss it out.

You had no further contact with Iwaizumi, you figured that the new house you lived in was already paid for, but you didn’t want Iwaizumi to show up one day saying that you owed him money so you decided to get a job. A small one, that didn’t require any strenuous Labour or heavy shift times.

It was a few weeks after Iwaizumi left you and you felt sick and heartbroken. After finishing your shift at your job you felt hot headed and extremely ill making you run to your toilet to spill out your guts.

Which lead you to your predicament now.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

You wanted to cry.

You stared at the test in front of you. Two lines. Positive. There was no denying it, as much as you wanted it to be negative. You could tell you were pregnant befonhre you even took the test, all the throwing up you were doing, the nausea you felt when certain foods were being cooked at work and the ongoing foot and back pains you felt.

You didn’t know what to do. There was only thing you could do, but you certainly didn’t want that. ‘Call him’ the voice in your head urged. ‘That would be the best option right?’ you thought ‘I mean he did love you afterall...’

It took a whole day of pacing around and wondering on what you should do. But you knew that leaving the situation longer would only make it worse. So you kept his business card on you when he gave it to you since that was the only phone number you had. He was all you actually had.

You called and the phone rang 4 times, your heart beating faster and faster as it rang.

“He-”

“Hello this is Sakura Iwaizumi speaking” a feminine voice said “Who is calling?” you hear someone say in the background. ‘Iwaizumi’ you thought, your face smiling. You realised you haven’t responded so you rushed out

“I’m Y/N L/N, I need to speak with Iwaizumi.”

“Haji dear, there's a girl on the phone for you... someone of the name called Y/N L/N”

You heard muffles in the background and Iwaizumi saying “Just hang up the phone she’s not worth it.” Your heart stung ‘She’s not worth it.’ Did he really mean that? As much as you claim to hate him, you didn’t really. As you’ve said before you always liked his loving and caring side over his cold hearted one.

You put the phone down and just cried, wailing your heart out for him. Why? You don’t really know to be honest. This was all a dumb agreement, he used you because he was bored and he probably already knew you were pregnant from when he gave you that concussion. But ‘he doesn’t want you’ you reminded yourself because ‘I’m not worth it.’

AUTHORS NOTE: once again, i’m sorry lol. But im most likely going to do a part two of my ‘long shot’ series with Akaashi or a character of your choosing.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi headcanons #signedwithane😌

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

Text

A Dragon’s Bride

Dragon Prince! Bakugo Katsuki x Fem! Fae Princess! Reader

Fanstasy AU

***18+ Fic***

If you are not 18 years old, you are not old enough to ride. Please exit the line and find another. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, smut, soft to rough sex, light fluff. Characters are aged up, Bakugo and reader are the same age.

Word Count: 4.7k

Author’s Note: So I had this idea after reading other fantasy AU fics, and I just really wanted a soft Bakugo. I know he’s an angry moody mf but idgaf aight? I didn’t wanna get super descriptive with the smut, just cause I wanted it to be more like ‘lovemaking’ than just sex, you feel me? Sorry if the pace is a little weird, I didn’t spend a whole lot of time on this lmao. Anyway, here’s dragon boi Bakubitch.

Enjoy the read~

As the youngest daughter of the Fae King and Queen, you knew it was only a matter of time before you were put in an arranged marriage. Your eldest brother had taken his Fae wife and would ascend to the throne in due time, and your older sister had already been married off to the Elven Prince Shouto.

Despite knowing you’d need to marry for political ties, you hadn’t expected to be sent off quite so soon. Your 19th birthday had passed only a few days ago, and that was when the news was broken to you. You were to be married to the Dragon Prince Katsuki Bakugo, soon to be the Dragon King, for his parents had expressed their wish to step down as royals rather early for Dragons of their age.

The journey was rather long, even as you flew with your guards in a beeline to the lands of the Dragons. Throughout the weeklong trip your nerves were building and the mild fear settled into your bones. The Dragon Prince was infamous for his temper and short fuse, his anger always taken out specifically on Izuku Midoriya, the Fairy Prince from his childhood. Your kingdom had not tied itself with the Dragons in centuries, and this alliance meant the Fae’s history of stubborn seclusion and independence would begin to diminish. This was a mission you could not afford to fail.

The final night camping was the worst. Sleep seemed to fear you, and you tossed and turned, attempting to settle your nerves. But it was to no avail. The sky began to lighten into a dull gray, signaling the coming morning. The guard came to wake you up, and soon you were bathed and back in the sky. Not having slept was of no concern, you’d gone days without sleep before and were just fine.

By midday you’d reached the edge of the Dragon kingdom, and were landing in front of the mountain castle just before sundown. The castle was gorgeous on its own, the face of it being the only exposed piece of the structure with the rest of the castle buried inside the mountain itself. The entrance was large, a platform that no doubt acted as a landing pad for the royal Dragons. Warm light poured from the large arched doorway as the huge stone doors opened as you approached.

You were greeted by the King, Queen, and the Prince himself. You sank before them in a low curtsy, pitch black wings spread out and flattened to your sides in a display of reverence. The King and Queen themselves bowed their heads toward you as a sign of respect, and when the Prince looked away indifferently, the Queen forced the boy down into a bow by grabbing his head and shoving it down, leaving you shocked.

You were of lower rank than he, so there was no reason for him to bow his head to you. Noticing your confused state, the Dragon Queen spoke. “Rank is of little concern here, child. My son must learn a grain of respect if he is to be King.” With a small smile, you nod in understanding, too afraid to speak. Your nerves were bound to come through in your voice, and you refused to show signs of weakness in front of Dragons powerful as they.

Tonight was one of rest, and there were rooms for your royal guards to rest for the night before they had to make the journey back to Fae land. The Queen insisted you call upon a maid should you need anything, and personally escorted you to your room. Once alone, you took the time to bathe. A warm indoor spring was not something you were used to. Waterfalls were the bathing pools of choice in the Fae kingdom, though the warm water was welcome after your long journey. Soon you were in a nightgown and fast asleep in a warm bed of furs.

The next morning a maid came to wake you, and you were dressed by several handmaidens. The gown you wore was simple. A soft grey, long and flowing, with the fabric bunched at your shoulders in a sleeveless style and a low-cut back to accommodate your wings. You were escorted to the dining room, and you took the time to memorize parts of the castle.

The table itself was shorter than you expected, with only three seats on the longer sides and the usual single seats on the ends, already occupied by the King and Queen. Prince Katsuki sat to his mother’s right, and you were led to sit on her left, directly across from him. For the first time, you got a good look at the boy.

Unruly ash blonde hair framed his face, which was chiseled and defined. His deep red eyes seemed to burn and glow like embers, and you had to look away from the intensity of his gaze on you. Your eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of his arms and collarbones, the muscles rippling underneath. You’d be lying to say he wasn’t incredibly handsome.

Through breakfast the Queen asked about your kingdom and its customs, and personal questions on how you felt about this alliance. You gave simple answers, having been trained to respond to such questions. She then walked you through the day, explaining how you’d be spending a lot of time with Katsuki not only for today, but all the way up until the wedding, which was set to take place in six months. The Prince scoffed at the idea.

“Why the hell do I even need to marry her? Why can’t I go find someone I like? I’m sure she’d rather marry someone she likes.” The Queen let out a low growl that could only be from a Dragon, directed toward her son. Her voice boomed through the hall. “Hold your tongue, boy. This alliance is important to both our kingdoms. You’ll do well to remember that.” He went silent with a snarl. She then turned her attention to you with a soft smile, the harsh edge gone from her voice.

“My apologies, dear. He can be...difficult. I hope your union can teach him some humility as well as respect for others.” With a soft smile, you nod. “I understand, my Queen. I pray I am not a burden to the Prince.” She chuckles and shakes her head as if you’d said something extremely amusing. Breakfast was soon over and you were left to spend the day alone with Prince Katsuki.

It was a rather difficult day. The Prince refused to speak, only voicing any irritation or anger he had for something he’d noticed. You were mostly quiet, in fear of angering him and possibly spoiling the union. He didn’t address you at all, and most interaction was awkward, but that was to be expected. You didn’t know each other. The King and Queen left the kingdom on a trip that was to last up until the week of the wedding, leaving you alone in the castle with the prince.

The first few weeks were relatively the same, little conversation between you and the Prince, silent meals, him angrily grumbling about one thing or another. You began to wonder if this was how life was going to be with him. It’s been nearly four months now, and he only ever addressed you briefly when he commented on one thing or another, though he was less angry lately. Tonight you lay awake in bed, stressing over whether or not you’d end up ruining this alliance.

Sleep refused to come, and you decided rolling around in bed would do you no good. Silently, you stepped out of your room and padded through the castle aimlessly. Eventually you ended up on a lone balcony at the face of the castle, far above the entrance and off to the side, jutting out from the cliffside. The chill of the night air made gooseflesh pebble your skin, but you welcomed it. It had been a while since you’d flown.

Wrapping your night robe tight around your body and stretching your wings, you stood on the railing and leaned back, falling into the open air and sailing into the night sky. You missed the wind rushing past your feathers, whipping through your hair. It was cold, but it made you feel free and light, away from the pressure of the marriage and alliance. Little did you know a pair of red eyes were watching you from a more hidden balcony.

____

You were absolutely beautiful to him. Katsuki watched as you floated on the air. Your dark feathers barely catch the warm light from the castle, giving them a slight glint as they ruffled and moved. He watched as you darted up into the clouds, pulling your wings in and spiraling up through the thick barriers, then falling back downward with your wings stretched out below you.

You were mesmerizing, and he hated how quickly he’d grown fond of you. At first he thought you were some stuck up princess, like the Elf Prince Shouto Todoroki. But he was proven wrong rather quickly. You were intelligent, your opinions sound and logical, the complete opposite of him. He was rash and emotional, and he knew it. He soon came to respect you, though he couldn’t figure out how to speak to you for the life of him. He was always more a man of action. Words were not his forte.

But as he watched you in the night sky, he couldn’t help but be drawn to you. He wanted to fly with you, to dance with you through the air. He wanted to touch you, your skin, your feathers, even your horns. He’d never seen a Fae before, only drawings from books. Though those images were put to shame next to you. Your grace seemed unmatched, even compared to his mother, who was just as rough around the edges as he was.

He’d be embarrassed to say he observed you more than he had intended to. The way you walked as if you were floating, how you held yourself around others. Your posture was regal, poised, and yet full of humility and compliance. You looked like you understood your place in this world, like you knew why you were supposed to marry a Dragon in an arranged marriage instead of being able to choose who you loved.

His thoughts drifted as he watched you, and he found himself wanting to fly with you more and more as time passed. Unlike you, he could sprout his wings whenever he wanted, and soon his large leathery wings were fully formed, ready to lift him from his perch. And that’s exactly what he did.

____

You were so distracted with the rushing wind you didn’t notice the figure approaching you until you felt the air whoosh behind you unnaturally. Swiftly, you turned, and found a pair of glowing red eyes focused on you. Both of you stayed there, flapping softly in the wind to keep steady. He was the first to break the silence.

“It’s a bit late for you to be flying, Princess.” His unusually soft tone of voice had heat rushing to your face. You sputtered out your response, partially from his words, partially from your nerves. “I, uh, I’m sorry, my Prince. I had no idea that…uhm… that I wasn’t allowed to fly this l-late.” A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, clearly amused. ‘Cute’ he thought to himself. “I didn’t say that, Princess. Just that it was rather late for you to be awake.” More heat flooded your face at his teasing tone.

He tilts his head, indicating for you to follow him, and he flits away, landing on the balcony you’d leapt off of. You were close behind, and landed next to him as his wings vanished into his back. A large hand was extended toward you and you took it, a bit hesitant, as he’d never engaged this much contact before. His warm hand enveloped yours, and he pulled you alongside him through the castle.

You cleared your throat quietly to speak. “Apologies, my Prince, but where are we going?” A small smirk graced his lips as he turned to you. “It’s a surprise, Princess. But I promise you’ll like it.” You gave a small nod and allowed him to guide you through the halls of the castle. He led you deep into the mountain, down corridors you hadn’t explored before, and soon you were walking down uncarved tunnels lit only by torches every few feet.

After a few minutes in the tunnels, the torches came to an abrupt stop, and you began to feel uneasy with the looming darkness. As if sensing your hesitation, the Prince turned and squeezed your hand in his. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m not dragging you to the dungeon.” His voice was playful, something you’d never heard from him before. Despite the mild discomfort of the underground depths, you trusted him and let him pull you into the darkness.

Once your eyes had adjusted, a faint glow came from somewhere further inward. He kept walking, further and further down the tunnel, and the glow consistently strengthened until you were sure you’d find the source behind each turn you took. Then he stopped, and turned to look at you over his shoulder. “You ready, Princess?” You nodded almost excitedly, and he pulled you with him around the corner. The sight before you stole the breath from your lungs.

The source of the cool glow was a gigantic cavern, the walls and ground littered with white, green, blue, and purple crystals, all glowing in the darkness, illuminating the space. The high ceiling was dotted with them as well, almost mimicking the night sky. In the center was a deep pool that reflected the light, the crystalline water perfectly still and undisturbed. Your wings ruffled as you took in the sight before you, the reaction involuntary.

In your wonder, you failed to notice the Prince had disappeared from your side. He called out to you once he had sunk into the water, and your eyes snapped over to him, heat rushing to your face in the realisation that he was naked. He seemed to sense your shyness, and let out a chuckle. “Come on, Princess. Won’t you join me?” Slowly, you made your way over to the pool, eyes focused on the steam rising from the water, and away from the very naked Prince.

You sank down to your knees a few feet from him, your wings wrapping around you slightly. From the corner of your eye you could see his head tilt at you, and you were sure he was smirking at your flustered state. With an amused hum, he turned his body away from you, giving you privacy to undress and dip into the water. Once you were in, you settled onto the ledge and hugged your knees close to your chest, your wings hiding most of your body.

“Y-you can t-turn back around now, my Prince.” He shifted back to his original position, leaning against the edge of the natural pool and resting his arms up on the ledge, relaxing into the hot water. You were still a bit tense, not having been naked around a man before. His deep voice was playful as he spoke. “Relax, Princess. We’re to be married. I’ll see you eventually.” You could hear the teasing undertone and you hugged your knees in closer.

His eyes were now fixed on you. With a small sigh, he moved, and you squeaked as his arms wrapped under your wings and around your waist. He lifted you with ease, and positioned you to be straddled on his lap, face inches from his, strong arms holding you close. His eyes were glued to yours, and you couldn’t hold his gaze. It wasn’t the same intensity as the first time you’d looked at them. This time was a bit different, the burning in his eyes was not from anger.

A hand came up and cupped your cheek, shocking you from the gentle touch. His voice was just as gentle, soft as his eyes trailed over your features. “You’re beautiful, Princess.” Your wings puffed up slightly at his words, and his eyes snapped to them at the movement. “Can I touch them?” The question shocked you a bit, but you nodded, not trusting your voice.

The hand that was on your face reached out and pet your feathers, gliding down your wing gently. Nobody had really touched your wings other than you, and it was only to clean them. This was a new sensation, and your wings shook lightly as your shoulders tensed a bit. Katsuki’s ministrations froze, and his voice turned slightly serious. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”

You blinked at him before shaking your head. “No, no of course not. It’s just...nobody has ever touched my wings before…” He seemed to relax at that. Still, his hand pulled away from your wing in favor of holding your waist. He held you closer, and your breath hitched slightly at the close proximity, your noses inches apart. His breath was warm on your face. “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to hold you close like this, Princess.”

Your eyes widened at his words and he laughed a bit. “I’ll admit, Princess, you’d captured my attention rather quickly. I never quite knew how to talk to you. But I am impatient, and couldn’t wait to hold you.” You were giddy from his confession, and you leaned forward, burying your face into his neck and pressing your body into his.

Up until now, your focus had been on the marriage and the alliance and making sure it went well. But now, knowing it would work out, you allowed your feelings to come into play. From the beginning you’d been taken with the handsome Prince. Within the first month you were no doubt falling for him. His attitude and personality was rather brash, but he was never aggressive toward you. Sure, he didn’t speak to you, but his actions spoke much louder.

He was a gentleman more often than not, holding doors open, escorting you to and from meals, even occasionally gifting you gowns and jewelry. You’d kept your emotions in check, though you knew by now you’d fallen head over heels for the man. Now, his arms tightened around you and you breathed in each other’s scents. His fingers massaged the skin in between your wings, and your body shuddered. It felt...good. Really, really good. You mewled into his shoulder, enjoying the new sensation.

You could feel him smirk into your neck as his fingers dug into the fluffy feathers at the base of your wings. With a gasp, your wings extended out behind you and fluffed up, all the feathers ruffling as you pressed your body tighter to his. A warmth began to build in your abdomen and between your legs, and you squirmed a bit, unsure what the feeling was.

His hands released your feathers and gripped your hips with a low hiss. “Quit your squirming, Princess. I don’t think I can control myself right now.” His voice was deep, and slightly strained. You lifted your head to look in his eyes, and his pupils were dilating, red irises now small rings. “What do you mean, my Prince?” His eyebrows raised slightly before his lips curled into a smirk. He brought your hips down, grinding you down onto him.

That was when you felt it, his hardness rubbing against your thigh. A small gasp escaped your lips and heat bloomed from your chest up to your cheeks. He watched as your pupils matched his, irises disappearing into blackness. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. When he finally let go you were both panting, and he leaned his forehead against yours. “Angel. My Angel.”

His eyes burned into your own as he spoke, his voice almost pleading. “Let me take care of you tonight.” You barely managed to nod before his lips were on yours again, this time hungry and wild. His tongue prodded at your lips and you let them part, let him explore your cavern in a mess of tongue and teeth. Without breaking the kiss his hands grabbed your thighs and began to lift, and your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he lifted you both from the warm water and walked.

You had no idea where he was taking you until he leaned and placed you down on soft pelts. Surprised, you pulled away to look around. The bed was situated behind a mass of towering crystals, hidden from the entrance. The blue glow illuminated the blonde’s face as he hovered above you, highlighting his features. You took a moment to admire just how beautiful he is, before his lips were on yours again.

His hands wandered freely now, groping the flesh at your hips and thighs, fingers massaging the soft skin there as his lips trailed down your neck and along your collarbones and shoulders. A thick finger found its way to your dripping core, and you let out a gasp at the feeling. You’d never laid with a man before, however you had to learn how to please one through books. You wondered briefly if the Prince had any real experience, before your mind was brought back to the moment as his finger pushed into you.

It wasn’t painful, and the mewl you let out let the blonde know you enjoyed it. His tongue attacked your pert nipples as distraction as he pressed another thick digit at your entrance, pushing it into your tight walls. A hiss escaped you from the slight burn, the stretch something you weren’t used to. Nothing had ever been inside you like this, the feelings foreign but pleasurable all the same.

His fingers maneuvered inside you, scissoring and curling and pumping until you were a panting moaning mess beneath him. His thumb dipped down into your wetness before reaching up to rub at the little bundle of nerves, making you flinch with the sudden jolt of pleasure, your wet walls clamping down on his fingers. A tightness built quickly in your abdomen the longer he kept his ministrations, and he leaned up to whisper in your ear.

“I can feel you gripping me. Cum for me, sweet girl.” His mouth attached to your neck and sucked, adamant to leave a mark. It only took a few more moments for you to fall apart around the man’s fingers, legs and wings trembling, moans echoing through the cave. When you had come down from that high, he pulled his fingers from you and licked them clean, a deep groan pouring from his lips.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, he lines himself up with your core, grasping your hip in one hand. “Are you ready for me, Angel?” Grabbing at the furs underneath you, you nod. “I’m ready, my Prince.” Slowly, he pushes himself into you, panting and growling, jaw clenched hard. The stretch burns, but only slightly, and soon you’re moaning and mewling beneath him. Finally fully seated inside you, his head drops to your shoulder and his arms wrap around you, holding you tight against him.

His breath is hot, blooming over your shoulder and neck, lips and tongue attacking the skin there. He holds his hips still, flush against yours, giving you time to adjust to him. When your walls relax around him, he begins to pump into you, shallow thrusts grinding himself into your walls. As he moves, his hands crawl up your back, fingers tangling into the base of your wings and massaging gently, making you moan out and wrap your arms around his neck.

He keeps his pace steady, but you can hear the strain in his breathing and feel his jaw clenched tightly. He’s holding back, and you don’t want him to. “Please, don’t hold back. I want all of you, Katsuki.” His movements stilled, you never used his name before. Pulling back, he peered down into your eyes as your hands held his face.

“You can have all of me, Angel, if you’ll be mine.” You leaned up and kissed him sweetly, “I’m already yours, my King.” A deep growl rumbled in his chest at your words, “Then you will have all of me.” He pulled his hips back and snapped back into you, setting a quick pace. Your breath came in pants and moans, the pleasure wracking through your body stealing the air from your lungs. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the cave, along with moans and growls and the smell of sex.

His arms held you tighter, fingers continuously digging into your feathers, lips latching onto your neck between heavy breaths. “Mine. My Angel, mine, mine. I love you my Angel.” You moaned out, your voice soft in his ear. “I love you my King. I’m yours, all yours forever.” His pace became erratic, and a hand came between your bodies to rub at the little nub between your folds. Only a few tight circles around it had you cumming and clamping down hard around his length, and he thrust into you hard.

A few more thrusts and he stilled himself, letting out a deep guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside you, holding your body tight to his. He rolled over, laying you on top of him without removing his length from you. Your wings stretched out behind you, falling limp at your sides once they were relaxed. Katsuki peppered kissed along your hairline, whispering sweet nothings as your breaths calmed.

After a long, comfortable silence, he spoke. “Are you alright, Angel?” You smiled and kissed at his chest. “Never better, my King.” He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. “We should get back to the main castle. The maids will panic if we’re missing.” You giggled at the thought of the maids running around like headless chickens searching for the two of you. With a nod, you sat up, and he lifted you off of him.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and pushed up, but your legs were weak and gave way to your weight. Katsuki caught you easily, and scooped you up like you weighed nothing. After bathing in the pool once more, you both dressed and he carried you with him to his chambers, and you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next couple months you spent nearly all your time together. You sit side by side during meals, talk regularly, and spend free time alone on a balcony or in the crystal cave. As you spend time with him, you notice things about him you never would have guessed before. He’s extremely perceptive, smarter than his angry demeanor would lead most to believe. He hates lying, hates secrets and deceit, which showed through when he explained why he was so against the arranged marriage at first.

The news was sprung on him only hours before you arrived, and he was angry that his parents had kept it secret from him. You noticed he was rather protective and liked skin contact, holding you tight to his body whenever he got the chance. He was thoughtful, his gifts were never useless, always something he was sure you would use and appreciate. Your favorite was the many custom jewels he had crafted for your horns. Some a delicate array of dainty silver chains and gems that glittered and swayed as you walked. Others golden wire, mimicking vines and leaves that twisted around and hugged your horns.

That was when you noticed his infatuation with your horns. He’d touch them often when your head was on his lap, tracing the intricate texture with his fingertips. He didn’t find them grotesque or intimidating like most others did, instead he found them beautiful and magical. He never tried to cover them, always adorning them with sparkling gems and glittering metal to accentuate the deep ebony.

He was curious, constantly asking questions about you, your home, and your customs. You grew to love the man more and more with every passing day, and as the wedding came and went you had no reserved feelings about the union. You loved Katsuki, the Dragon Prince, and he loved you, the Fae Princess. He was your King, and you were his Angel, and neither of you would have it any other way.

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espressokiri · 3 years

Note

If I could, could I request Class 1-A’s with a water quirk who loves mermaids?

Class 1A x GN!Reader

In which Class 1A deals with a classmate who loves mermaids.

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

a/n: These are so cute to write about plz <3

(Y/n) (L/n) has always had a fascination with what was hidden underneath the ocean, it could be the result of their quirk being related to water or just the child-like wonder never leaving them. Growing up they would watch The Little Mermaid on repeat and sigh dreamily at the thought of having a tail like hers. They learnt how to draw in order to create themselves as a mermaid in fictional form, perhaps they could even send in a similar design for when U.A. asks for hero suit designs.

That is exactly what happened. Despite not having fins for legs on the regular for their costume, there was a resemblance of flow like material that would glimmer like scales. They also garnered mini seashells strapped around their waist like a belt.

“Pft! What are you? Holder of seashells or something?” Bakugou cackled and (Y/n) glared at him, spraying him with water and directly aiming for his open mouth.

Bakugou sputtered and coughed out the liquid before attempting to charge at them with his quirk engaged, (Y/n) simply sucked out all the sweat he was generating for his quirk with a flick of their wrist, leaving him useless. “What the hell?!”

“Whoa thats so cool! (Y/n) can basically turn Bakugou quirkless!” Denki clasped his hands in amusement as Kirishima and Sero had to restrain him from physically attacking the water bender.

Midoriya was in the cornering jotting down the useful information about them that he had witnessed.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“Tsu-chan! Tsu-chan let’s pretend we’re mermaids!” (Y/n) exclaimed as they dragged Asui to the U.A. pool. The girls had rented it out for a day before the training camp and invited (Y/n) along because they all found them adorable, the girls had basically adopted them.

(Y/n) was gifted a swimming tail by Hatsume Mei, who had tinkered with the idea of a mermaid suit for them. Once they put it on as trial, (Y/n) could not stop the joyful tears from flowing as they pulled Mei into a crushing hug, thanking her profusely for making their dream come true.

As of now they finally got to try it on for use. To say it wasn’t hard to maneuver in at first would be a lie, but with the help of Asui they finally got the hang of it and felt like they were on cloud nine.

Breathing under water was not a problem as a water quirk user, it made it all the more real. The water was a safe place and they knew if ever they wanted some time to think, away from the loud noises and to clear their mind in general, the water would welcome them with open arms.

“Wow (Y/n)-chan, you look like a real mermaid!” Hagakure squealed as she watched the tail appear and disappear in the water, “you really do look the part.” Jirou commented, a slight blush at the beauty before her.

“Our precious (Y/n)! Here I thought you couldn’t get any cuter.” Mina huffed, trying to take pictures of the moment.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

(Y/n) was at the bottom of the pool in U.A.

They were laying down on the floor of the pool, watching the lights above reflect the water. Fully clothed in their U.A. uniform, as they could just pull the water away from them to dry instantly, with their backpack the only thing on the pools edge.

They were trying to think of a special move to progress in their class, it seemed like there was a mental block preventing them from creating any train of thought for the class. Maybe a nap would help?

A sudden splash into the pool pulled them out their light slumber as a hand gripped their arm and pulled them to the surface, “what the hell?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, pulling themselves away from the perpetrator. “I just saved your ass! Is this the thanks I get?!”

They looked at Bakugou with irritation as they calmed their breathing, “saved me from what exactly?”

“From drowning, dumbass! What were you even thinking?!”

A stagnant silence.

(Y/n) snorted before bursting out into laughter, angering the blonde even further. “You think dying is funny?! Wait till I drown you myself!”

“Bakugou, what’s my quirk?” (Y/n) wheezed, trying to calm themselves down.

“What kind of question is that? Water manipulation, idiot.”

“Exactly.”

They both had a stare-down. (Y/n) with a hand on their mouth to hide the small giggles slipping out and watching Bakugou’s face morph from anger to embarrassment as he realized.

“No one must know of this.”

Cue (Y/n) planning to blackmail him.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Training camp was as tough as Aizawa said it would be.

The students were worked to the bone, being sucked dry of their youth and filled with soreness and pain from the excessive use of their quirks. To think (Y/n) thought they would have it easier since Aizawa had basically thrown them into the nearby lake to practice water pressure and surface tension.

They tried taking a breather for a minute but a stick would be shoved through the water and whack them on the head for doing so. Aizawa had eyes the eyes of a hawk, despite his constant dry eye, and they felt sorry for whoever ends up being his child.

Once they were sure their teacher had left his focus on them to pay attention to the rest of the class, they decided to close their eyes for a brief second. The peace was soon disrupted.

A shot of white tape wrapped around their waist and they were yanked out of the lake and onto the broad shoulders of Sero. “Look what I caught! A mermaid, huh? You’d sell for a decent price.” He chuckled.

“Only decent? Wow okay, my ego’s been bruised.” (Y/n) scoffed, dangling limply on his shoulder despite feeling their stomach bruise from the impact. “Working on making your tape waterproof?”

“Mhm, and I nailed it!”

“That you did. Now carry me properly to dinner while I nap as punishment for disrupting the one time I got away with sleeping.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

When the Big Three were introduced in class, (Y/n) couldn’t help but gaze with sparkles in their eyes at the indigo haired male with elf-like ears. Oh how they were imagining a fairytale themed photoshoot or outing, which was inappropriate as he was a third year and they doubt he would befriend them after observing his timid and shy nature.

But a mermaid must not leave an opportunity behind.

“Tamaki-senpai!”

The male froze in his steps, shoulders stiff and posture hunched as he trembled and turned towards the voice. (Y/n) approached him with a grin, hands behind their back as they were fidgeting in place.

“Y-yes?” His gaze was on the floor, avoiding eye contact with the first-year.

Nejire and Mirio had glanced at each other before nodding their head in agreement to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“I just wanted to say that you look so pretty! Like something out of a fairytale! I love fairytales, especially mermaids and I have a suit with a mermaid’s tail since I have a water quirk and stuff.” (Y/n) glanced at Mirio and Nejire and waved at them cheerfully.

Tamaki on the other hand had gotten red in the face at the compliment and became a stuttering mess, that’s when Nejire and Mirio decided to jump in, both very happy at the thought of talking to the cheerful student in front of them.

“He’s a bit shy so don’t mind him! You’re so precious! You look like a mermaid too, so gorgeous!” Nejire complimented and pulled at their cheek as (Y/n)’s eyes twinkled at seeing Nejire in a new light.

“H-Hado-senpai, you look like a fairy!” (Y/n) was in awe of how pretty she was, she was literally sparkling.

Mirio was chuckling in the background, “looks like we’re all like fairytales in one way huh?”

Nejire gasped and clapped her hands together, “a photoshoot dressed like that would be so cute! Don’t you think Mirio?”

“Hado-senpai I was thinking the same!”

#mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #sero imagine #sero x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #my hero academia #boku no academia #mha fluff #bnha fluff

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

Text

Kinktober Day 6: NonCon (+Bondage +Overstimulation)

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Fairy!Lucy x Fem!Reader, Fairy!Lucy x Fairy!Rami, Fairy!Rami x Fem!Reader (with small cameos from Fairy!Ben and Fairy!Gwil)

Words: 3,232

Warnings: NonCon, bondage, overstimulation, anal, anal training, oral (f receiving and m receiving + toys), throat training, sex toys (dildos/strapons/anal plugs), use of magic, begging, crying, creampie, cum swallowing, PIV, degradation, humiliation, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, loss of consciousness, mention of double penetration, mention of pimping reader out, mention of flogging.

A/N: As soon as I saw non/dubcon was one of the optional prompts for day 6 I knew it would fit with another chapter of the Fairy AU! But, I also really liked bondage and overstimulation, so I decided to just incorproate all three into this one chapter lmao.

As with the rest of the Fairy AU, this can probably be read as DubCon but in this one Reader does use words like ‘no’ and ‘stop’ so I’ve categorised it as NonCon. Please don’t read if that isn’t your thing.

Lucy had taken Gwilym’s suggestions for training you seriously. By the end of the week he’d supplied her with three dildos, each one larger than the last, which had been stuck to the wall of your room. Every day you had scheduled training time in which you’d kneel on the floor and fellate the toys, learning how to handle them better, supervised closely by one of Lucy’s staff or by the Queen herself. She would reward you when she felt you’d made sufficient progress and punish you when you didn’t. Once, while she was watching, you’d gagged and choked too much as you’d attempted to deepthroat the smallest of the dildos, and so she had flogged you before forcing you to try again, plainly unmoved by your tears.

In addition to the dildos, Gwilym had also supplied an anal plug (with the promise he could get a larger one when you were ready for it), and since then you’d been perpetually full. The end of it was marked by a jewel – similar in colour to the shimmery beads which hung from your collar – and was clearly visible through the sheer dresses Lucy clothed you in. You weren’t permitted to touch it. Lucy gave permission to remove it so you could use the bathroom and wash or so you could be fucked, but otherwise you had to endure the constant fullness of being plugged. Rami, for his part, thoroughly enjoyed your new training regime. When Lucy had passed on the suggestion that he should use your throat and arse more frequently, he’d been quick to agree, and you couldn’t remember a day since that he hadn’t made good on his word. Though neither he nor Lucy had entirely stopped using your cunt. They’d discovered the joys of penetrating you at the same time, treating it as a something for them to do as a couple. They felt that by fucking you simultaneously it could bring them closer together and, so far, it seemed to be working. The chamber maids and staff in the castle whispered about it as they worked, gossiping about how loved up the royal couple seemed, speculating if that meant a child would soon be on the way. Of course you knew that a pregnancy was unlikely considering Rami usually filled you with his seed. Even when he fucked Lucy he’d more often than not finish inside you. Lately he'd favoured your throat, his cock tasting of Lucy as he held your nose and forced you to swallow. Another part of your training.

Even in your off hours, when both of your masters were otherwise occupied, you couldn’t escape the constant feeling of being full, the plug inside your arse stimulating you as you walked through the corridors. Once, while going about your business, you’d run into Gwilym and Ben. Gwilym had asked about your training and Ben had stepped behind you to see the plug. They’d drawn you into an empty room nearby and made you lift your dress and bend over so they could get a better look. You’d not wanted to, worried what Lucy would say, but the didn’t give you much choice and so you’d obeyed, trying not to let it affect you when they discussed how wet you were and what they’d like to do with your body. Ben seemed a touch jealous that Gwilym had used you already but at the same time he sounded pleased that when it was his turn to have you, you’d be better able to take whatever he decided to dole out. They’d eventually let you go but not before Gwilym interrogated you further about your progress since beginning training.

If Ben or Gwilym had ever mentioned their private meeting with you, Lucy had never alluded to it, and you’d never found the courage to mention it yourself. It was hard to know how she’d react. Instead you focused on being a dutiful pet. Quiet, except when you were being fucked, and obedient at all hours. If Lucy said it was time to practice your cock sucking skills, you’d kneel at the wall and suck until she told you to stop. If Rami entered your room after dark and rolled you onto your stomach, you’d press your arse into the air to make it easier for him. And if either of them ever asked if you were enjoying yourself, you told them you loved how it felt to be taught to serve properly. For the most part they were happy with your behaviour and your attitude to the new training regime. Lucy would coo about what a good pet you were as you ate breakfast in the courtyard and reward you with whatever trinkets your heart desired. Until you displeased her.

About a month or so into the training, Lucy decided you weren’t enjoying yourself as much as she’d like. “I was lenient when we started,” she said, pacing from one side of your room to the other as you knelt on the floor and wiped drool from your lips, “I knew this wouldn’t be easy for you, that everything would feel new and difficult. But we’ve been at it now for long enough that you should have grown to enjoy it more.” “I do like it,” you said weakly, but Lucy just scoffed and strode past you again. “Liar. You endure it. Which is fine. If enduring it is all you’re capable of then you’ll just have to endure it until I'm sick of playing with you. When I bind you in the gardens for the first night of the bacchanal you will endure every single one of my people who comes to use your holes. When I reward Benjamin for his loyalty by presenting him with your pliant body on a silver fucking platter, you’ll endure it. When Gwilym comes to assess your progress, you’ll fucking endure that too. But I’d like so much more to have an enthusiastic whore.” She paused in her pacing to regard you, “It’s no skin off my nose if you don’t enjoy what happens to you. But it would be in your interests to learn, not just to endure it, but to actively crave it.” “Yes Mistress,” you dropped your head as you spoke, trying to breathe naturally when all you felt was panic. “Come now, don’t cry pet. I think I can help you. We just need to give you better motivation. So, starting today, you are not permitted to cum unless you’re having your arse or throat fucked.” “My Queen?” “Don’t worry, pet, we’ll still take pleasure from your cunt. But you won’t. You’re going to learn to associate orgasms with anal and oral. We’ll start with just Rami and I but if I feel you need extra motivation then I can inform your minders to make you cum while you practice with the dildo wall. And if that doesn’t work then I’ll declare you a lost cause and let you suffer while we enjoy your services. Sound fair?” “Yes, Mistress, very fair.” “Good. Now let’s try it out shall we? Up on the bed, legs spread for me. And remember, no cumming.”

Lucy was true to her word. It was hard to adjust to, being edged while they played with your pussy, but they always made sure you had at least one orgasm while they used either of your other holes. In fact, Lucy was quite generous and would often magically remove your ability to orgasm so you didn’t have to worry about accidentally falling over the edge. And then she’d let you moan into her cunt while Rami filled your arse, taking away the spell so that Rami’s touching your clit made you cum with all the force of the orgasms you’d been denied before. You thought perhaps her plan might work. It was easier to feign excitement about both anal and fellatio when you knew that it was your only chance to cum and the more you pretended to like it the more you actually did start to like it. It was slow going though and you could tell Lucy still believed you could be more enthusiastic. Perhaps that was why sometimes she was less nice. On days when she wanted to test you or when she came to you needing to vent some frustration after dealing with a troublesome queenly duty, she’d forget the spell. She’d take great joy from ploughing your pussy with her dildo or rubbing herself against you or even eating you out, mocking you when you whined about being close and ordering you to hold it or suffer the consequences. You weren’t sure what the consequences were but you weren’t all that keen to find out and so you’d struggle through, trying desperately to keep the orgasm at bay. Which is what happened one night when she came to you, clearly pissed off about something that had happened in the meeting she’d just returned from.

Lucy didn’t elaborate on what or who had pissed her off but you instantly knew she was going to make you suffer. Her fingers had tugged at your hair hard enough that it felt as if she were ripping it out, as she pulled you down to lick her pussy. Even after she’d had her orgasm she was still angry and so decided to use you to alleviate her frustrations. Meekly you removed your dress and lay back, following every order she gave you quickly and without question. She considered you for a moment before approaching the wall and pulling the largest dildo from it. You gulped as she used her powers to attach it to herself and then, in the blink of an eye, was on you, the tip of the fake cock at your entrance. You had no hope. The moment you saw the glint in her eye you knew she would be making you cum one way or another and certainly without permission. Lucy was looking to punish someone and you were the perfect candidate. But you tried. You did everything you could think of to keep from cumming as Lucy rode you, toying with your clit until she grew fed up with waiting and sent a bolt of magic through you that had you clenching on her cock in an instant. She tutted at you as she pulled out, “Oh pet. That was a mistake. I’m going to have to punish you now.” “Please don’t, My Queen. No, please no. I tried Mistress.” “And you failed. So now...” There was a flash of light and the next thing you knew was being bound to the bed, arms and legs immobile. No matter how much you tried to pull at them they held, as you’d known they would. Lucy watched you, amused, until you stopped struggling so much. The only movement she made was to take off the dildo she wore, absentmindedly tracing her fingers over its length, already slick from being inside you. “There now, have you got it out of your system?” she asked when you gave up trying to free yourself, “You know I hate doing this but it’s the only way you’ll learn.” She grinned as she spoke, clearly enjoying every second of your dismay. All you could do was try to brace yourself as your queen shoved the fake cock back inside you, her magic making it thrust and vibrate.

The toy had a mind of its own and all you could do was writhe against your restraints and moan as you were unwillingly pulled into an orgasm. “Don’t you look so pretty like this.” her laugh was tinkling and musically sweet and you knew there would be no hope of being released until she’d had her fun. Your stomach tightened as another orgasm began to build and, though you knew it was futile, you couldn’t help but beg again and again for it to stop, knowing it would only get more painful as it continued. “Such a noisy whore aren’t you. That’s good. I’m sure the whole castle will hear what pleasure I bring you.” “Mis-Mistress, p-p-p-lease,” you cried out, somewhere between sobbing and moaning, “Ple-ase st-stop.” “Oh no, I’m not going to do that. You wanted this. You wanted to cum and so you did, disregarding my order entirely.” “No,” you shook your head but Lucy just talked over you. “Yes, whore. You asked for this.” You let out a high pitched whine, barely hearing the door open and Rami walk in. “Sweetie!” Lucy said excitedly, beckoning him towards the bed. “What’s going on here?” “You remember what I told you about Gwilym’s assessment of our pet right?” “Which part?” “How he asked if she’d ever passed out while we played with her.” “Of course. You were wondering how much it would take to make it happen. Is that what we’re testing out here?” “It is!” She clapped her hands together excitedly, “Our silly pet decided it would be okay to steal an orgasm, even though she knew that I didn’t want her to have any. So now I’m giving her all the orgasms she wants and we’ll only stop when she loses consciousness.” The tears that you’d spilled already had been brought on by pain but now you cried out of fear, terrified about how much you’d have to endure before you reached the end of your torment. Every orgasm you were forced to have was a little more painful than the last and came faster too, giving you less time to recover. And, though you tried to plead with Lucy, tried to apologise and promise to be good, it was getting harder and harder to speak. Your words were interrupted by whimpers, whines, sobs, and every so often a moan as your pleasure peaked enough to overtake the pain for a moment or two. Lucy remained indifferent to it all, watching you with excitement and greed.

“Actually, Darling, watching our naughty little slave has made me very wet.” “Say no more, my love.” Rami said softly, leaning in to tenderly kiss Lucy’s cheek as undressed. And before you could properly register what was happening above you, Lucy was moaning as he eased into her cunt from behind. Lucy kept her eyes on you except for when they fluttered shut as he began to thrust, “Good whore. Keep crying. You’re going to help me get off.” You couldn’t have stopped crying even if you’d tried. The pleasure peaks had grown less and less frequent as the pain became more acute, hurting you from the inside out. And knowing that your suffering was making your mistress horny, that she was enjoying your torment, only made it worse. It was humiliating, not least because part of you felt glad to have pleased her. “That’s it, like that,” Lucy panted but you couldn’t tell if she was still talking to you or if the words were aimed at Rami. You screamed as you came again, your arms and legs pulling against the restraints, sobbing in the aftermath as you already felt the next impossible climax start to build. Lucy arched her back, drool dripping from her lips onto you as she moaned out the word yes over and over, being fucked just the way she liked, pushed closer and closer to her own release. And when she came she moaned, her mouth falling open in an O shape that made you jealous of her good it must feel compared to the orgasms ripped out of you. “Pull out Rami.” she panted as she came down, groaning at the loss of his cock, “Got somewhere special for you to put it.” You had no idea what she meant, barely understanding what she’d said, until she moved aside so Rami could kneel between your legs. You cried through a blissful five seconds as Lucy removed the vibrating dildo from your throbbing pussy and then it was replaced by Rami who roughly thrust into you until he had his orgasm too. You could feel him twitching inside you as he pumped his cum into you and then pulled out. For a moment you hoped that would be the end but then your overworked cunt was filled once more with the toy and you screamed as it continued to overstimulate you. “How about one for each of her holes?” Lucy said softly, already stroking Rami’s cock, “Like a proper cumdump deserves.” You felt limp and exhausted, unable to even attempt to thrash against the bonds that held you in place. And so, when Rami knelt by your head and forced his cock between your lips, you did nothing but cry. Even before he was finished painting your tongue you began to feel dizzy, struggling to keep your eyes open. Rami pulled out and laughed, “I think this is it my love. See how she struggles now?” “Oh you’re right,” Lucy moved closer, examining your face as you felt another shockwave roll through your body. The last thing you heard was Lucy ask, “Are you going to pass out now pet?” And then there was darkness.

You were no longer bound when you woke, no longer stuffed full with the dildo. The familiar taste of Rami was on your tongue and the moon was where it had been before so you knew you hadn’t been out for more than a few minutes. “You’re awake!” Lucy exclaimed, “Rami she’s awake!” You blinked away the grogginess and winced as you moved. “Well?” Lucy asked as both she and Rami peered down at you, “Do you remember what happened?” You nodded, memories rushing back, “You punished me for disobedience.” you said softly, needing to clear your throat before the words could be heard. “Yes. So what do you say?” “Thank you for teaching me a lesson My Queen.” The full weight of what you’d been through caught up with you and another sob wracked your chest, “I’m sorry for disobeying.” “Does that mean it won’t happen again?” “It won’t, Mistress. I’ll be good from now on.” “And you’ll put more effort into enjoying having all of your holes used?” “Yes, Mistress. I’ll love it I promise. I’ll love it so much I’ll beg for you to use them.” “I like the sound of that. Why don’t we start now. I promised Rami he could fill your arse but you blacked out before he had the chance and we didn’t think it would be right for you to miss it by not being conscious. So why don’t you beg him to use you now.” You nodded, fresh tears leaking from your eyes, “Please Rami, Sir, please use my arse. I need it so bad.” “Not so hard now was it.” You shook your head as rolled onto your stomach, pushing your hips up for Rami even as your legs and pussy ached. "Before my future husband takes you, you should know something. We’ve decided that, for the moment, it would be safer if you were to stop gaining pleasure from your pussy. We’ll only be using it while you’re asleep. Any other time your other holes will take priority. Does that make sense?” “Yes, Mistress. Whatever you think is best.” “Good girl.” Lucy gave a nod and Rami unceremoniously removed your plug. He groaned as he sank his magically lubed cock into you and began to thrust.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

#my writing #my fics #lucy boynton x reader #rami malek x reader #lucy boynton smut #rami malek smut #lucy boynton imagine #rami malek imagine #i......dont have any excuses for this

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ironwhumper359 · 3 years

Note

“Just a short little prompt fill” I said to myself. “Something to work on in my downtime between longer fics.” Oops I made a whole au and I’m attached to it now, lol.

14: “Good news! I brought you a friend.”

CW: Pet whump, creature whump, fantasy au, restraints, referenced conditioning, child whumper

---

“More tea, Daisy?” Matilda asked, holding up her porcelain teapot. Daisy eyed her for a moment, and Matilda giggled. “You can answer, silly!”

“Yes please, Lady Matilda,” Daisy said immediately.

“Here you go!” Matilda said, tipping the pot forward to mime pouring. “One lump of sugar or two?”

“Two please, my lady,” Daisy said, and Matilda nodded primly, picking up a small set of tongs.

She mimed dropping two lumps of sugar into Daisy’s cup, then one into her own. She put the cup to her lips and pretended to drink, grinning when Daisy did the same.

“I have to say, Daisy, your wings are looking particularly ex-quis-ite today!” Matilda chirped, slowly sounding out the larger word she’d often heard her mother use at grown-up garden parties. “I love how the light catches them just so!”

An expression Matilda couldn’t quite read flashed through her fairy’s eyes for a moment, but before she could figure it out Daisy’s smile was back, wider and brighter than before.

“Thank you, Lady Matilda.”

“You’re welcome!” Matilda said cheerfully, swinging her legs a bit as she pretended to take another sip of tea. “Oooh, ooh, guess what!”

“What is it, Lady Matilda?” Daisy barely had time to ask before Matilda launched into her story. Mother often said she talked too much for polite conversation, but that was part of what was fun about playing with Daisy, Matilda didn’t need to be polite!

“Father will be coming home today!” she said, clapping her hands. “And that means I’ll get a present! He always brings me a present when he comes home from trips, and I hope it’s something really nice, he’s been gone for so long this time…what do you think he’ll bring me? Maybe a new dress, or a box of sweets...do you think he’ll bring something for you, too Daisy? Oh I’d like that, maybe a new satin cushion for your cage, or a set of gold combs for me to put in your hair, wouldn’t that just look so beautiful with your leash and collar?”

“Matilda!” her mother called sharply, interrupting Matilda’s musing about her presents. “Time to put your toys away now, your father will be home soon.”

“Aww, but Mother-”

“I won’t tell you twice, Matilda,” her mother warned, and Matilda sighed.

“Fiiiine.”

She got to her feet and quickly scooped up the dolls and teddy bears she had set around the table to make up the rest of the tea party’s guests. She dropped them into her toy chest, then walked back to where Daisy was sitting, unhooking her leash from the brass loop on the side of the table.

“Come on, Daisy,” Matilda said, tugging on the leash, and Daisy quickly scrambled to her feet. When Matilda had first gotten her last year, Daisy had stood a few inches taller than her, but Matilda had grown a bit since her eighth birthday, and now she was about the same height as her pet.

Matilda led Daisy to her cage, which took up the entire corner of the playhouse. Her father had ordered it to be custom made just for Daisy, and it reminded Matilda of a bigger version of the parrot cage she’d once seen at a party at her cousin’s estate. Daisy slipped inside, waiting patiently by the door as Matilda made sure the lock was secure before reaching through the bars to unclip the leash from the shiny golden collar she wore around her neck. She hung the leash on a hook on the cage door, then grinned, waving at her pet.

“Bye Daisy!” she said. “I’ll come visit you again after supper, alright?”

She skipped out into the garden, where her mother was waiting to close the playhouse door behind her.

“Did you remember to lock the cage, dear?” Mother asked, and Matilda rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Mother.”

“Good. Now, come with me. Your father will be home any minute, and he has a surprise for you.”

A grin stretched across Matilda’s face. She couldn’t wait to find out what it was!

---

Matilda was not an unkind little girl. She was sweet, polite, and as far as Lorrella could tell, never hurt anybody on purpose.

This, of course, did little to soothe the chafed skin beneath Lorrella’s collar or the ache for freedom in her heart.

Matilda did not seem to realize that her beloved fairy was a prisoner in the opulent playhouse her father had built her on the grounds of their family manor. She never registered Lorrella’s discomfort, though that was mostly because Lorrella took great pains to hide it from her. Matilda was bound to become upset if her pet wasn’t acting happy, after all.

And rule number one was Don’t upset Matilda.

So Lorrella couldn’t really blame the girl for not realizing when she was uncomfortable, but Matilda still didn’t seem to think twice about leading her around on a leash like a dog or locking her in a six by six foot cage whenever they weren’t “playing together.” She certainly hadn’t been interested in learning Lorrella’s real name, content instead to dub her “Daisy” because it sounded pretty.

Daisy was a dress up doll, a hair model, an audience for impromptu storytimes and a companion for tea parties and garden outings. Whatever Matilda wanted for as long as she wanted, that’s what Daisy had to be. Lorrella was allowed to exist only in these quiet moments when Matilda left her here alone; when nothing was wanted of her and she could whisper her name into the empty room so that she would not forget it.

The most frightening thing was that while Lorrella longed for such a reprieve when she was with Matilda, whenever she was alone, she’d begun to find herself wishing for the girl’s company. Lorrella was nobody, did nothing, belonged nowhere when Matilda was gone. Daisy, at least, had something to do, had something to be, even if that something was little more than an object to be shaped and molded by someone else.

Daisy belonged to Matilda, but Daisy had a purpose. Lorrella belonged to no one, but her life had ceased to have meaning altogether.

The door to the playhouse suddenly burst open and Lorrella jumped in surprise as Matilda darted into the room.

“Daisy!” she cried, running up to the cage and grinning from ear to ear. “Good news! Father brought you a friend!”

Lorrella blinked and tilted her head, a silent question. Matilda reached through the bars and patted her on the head, then grabbed her collar and pulled. Lorrella suppressed a wince at the sudden jerk of movement and leaned forward so that Matilda could clip the leash on.

“Come on, come on, you have to see it!” Matilda said. As soon as she had Lorrella out of the cage, she dashed out of the room, and Lorrella had no choice but to follow as quickly as she could.

Matilda hurried through the grounds and Lorrella stumbled after her, biting back a yelp every time Matilda ran too fast or turned too suddenly for her to keep up. Her neck was already growing sore, and she’d tumbled over enough times that her knees would be bound to have an angry smattering of fresh bruises by morning. She desperately wanted to call out for Matilda to slow down, but she held her tongue.

Rule number two was Never speak unless spoken to.

Matilda finally skidded to a halt outside the family stables, and Lorrella let herself fall to her knees beside her, gasping for air.

“Father!” Matilda called, knocking on the stable door. “I brought Daisy to come see it too! Can we come in?”

Lorrella stared at Matilda incredulously. All this fuss just to meet a new pony?

Matilda’s father appeared at the door, and Lorrella shrank back, casting her eyes downward.

“Yes, my dear,” he said. “But you must remember to move slowly, alright? It is still quite wild, and not used to people yet.”

Matilda nodded solemnly, and her father opened the door wide, allowing her to pull Lorrella inside. They passed through most of the stable and Matilda occasionally paused to wave at a favorite horse, but they didn’t stop moving until they reached the end of the row of stalls. The stall at the back was open, and as they approached, Lorrella could hear the stable hands muttering to each other.

“Shit! Hold the damn thing still, will you? I can’t buckle these straps tight enough when it’s squirming so much!”

“I will thank you,” Matilda’s father said coldly,” to not swear in front of my daughter.”

The two snapped to attention instantly, twin looks of apology on their faces.

“Yes, Lord Tracey, sorry Lord Tracey,” said the one who’d cursed, ducking his head.

“Can I show Daisy now?” Matilda asked, and her fathers face softened as he looked down at her.

“Of course, my dear. The creature is secure?” he added to the stablehands, and they nodded quickly.

“Yes, my lord. Took a fair bit of wrangling, but it shouldn’t be a problem now.”

They stepped aside, revealing the animal in the stall, and Lorrella was unable to stop herself from gasping. She froze, glancing up at Lord Tracey, but he only had eyes for Matilda, who was staring at the creature with a wide grin

It was not, as Lorrella had first assumed, simply a new pony; it was a centaur. Their upper body was wrapped up tightly in a harness that forced its arms behind its back, and their face was partially covered by a bitted bridle, the lead of which was tied to a hook on the wall.

Lorrella had never seen a centaur before, and she was no expert on horses either, but even she could see that the creature was only a child. Judging by the face alone, one not much older than Matilda herself, or at least whatever the centaur equivalent was to eight years old. The poor thing was clearly terrified, too; they were trembling slightly and pawing at the ground with one of their front hooves.

“Daisy, this is Coco!” Matilda said happily. “Coco, this is Daisy! The two of you are gonna be the best of friends, I know it! What do you think, Daisy, isn’t she just the greatest present you ever saw?”

The centaur flinched when Matilda spoke, and Lorrella glanced back at Lord Tracey, who was watching the whole exchange with what on the surface looked like a bored expression. She swallowed, and shot the centaur what she hoped was an apologetic look before answering.

“Yes, Lady Matilda,” she said quietly. “She’s perfect for you.”

#whump #whump fic #creature whump #fairy whump #centaur whump #pet whump #nonhuman whumpee #child whumper #matilda's playhouse #my writing

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

Photo

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-15: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“Come on then, Miss Direction Blind. I'll be the one to give you the directions now.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

After a week of working at Warson, I’d technically adapted to how things went about here. Zheng Lin had also arranged my first solo gig.

Zheng Lin: The design hub has a mentor system set in place.

Zheng Lin: So, all Assistants and Junior Designers will have a mentor assigned to them.

Zheng Lin: Of course, it is not up to you to choose, but your future mentor.

Zheng Lin: Every Senior Designer, including Director Qi, will participate in this program as a mentor.

MC: Director Qi too?

Zheng Lin: Correct. The selection criteria will be the results of your first independent work.

Zheng Lin: It might be solo work, but you can always approach me if you run into something you don't understand.

Zheng Lin: And also, I'll get Brother Mao to help you out, considering how you've only just arrived here and have yet to familiarize yourself with this place.

Zheng Lin: Of course, his aid doesn't include helping you out with your design.

Zheng Lin: In any case, just make sure to do this job well because the results of this will determine who your future mentor will be. Understand?

I understood what she was getting at. Mentors would greatly influence and affect the growth of a rookie. One will be able to learn much more when paired with an experienced mentor who shares the same aesthetic sense.

Although the deadline is still a long time from now, I want to become the best mentee choice to ever face Sariel.

The job this time was to create a dress for Lin Yao, the new up and coming actress, for her award ceremony.

❖☆———————————★❖

She was a child actress who'd recently risen to fame when the popularity of the young idol teen drama she starred in half a year ago exploded. Due to her cold countenance, she was dubbed by the media as the "Nation's Fairy Nymph"

This time, the local crime movie she'd starred as the lead for had received a double harvest at the word-of-mouth box office. It has also been nominated as one of the most popular movies and the movie with the best female lead among many others.

This movie was about a talented dancing genius who secretly plotted the murder of her abusive stepmother for many, many years. This caused the creation of a second personality within her; the murder happened then. At the end of the film, she danced in the pure white snow beside the dead body of her stepmother. Something that she'd only ever dreamt about. And there, etched upon her face, was the first smile of her life.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Her performance is way too good! I can't even tell that it's an act...

After watching some of her award-winning works interviews, I finally managed to get some semblance of understanding about Lin Yao.

She was someone of few words, a polite and obedient kid who never once had a single bad article to her name. She was forever smiling in front of the cameras. She was hardworking and responsible when it came to her work, and has had a smooth journey ever since her debut. It was the very epitome of what a perfect life was; one that everybody admired.

MC: A traditional fairy dress would be too conservative. Although that'd be very in line with her image, it'll merely be the same thing all over again. That wouldn't make her stand out on the red carpet.

MC: I can't help but feel like she's not all as inwardly peaceful as she appears on the outside. Perhaps she's fiercer or more sensitive deep down...

I didn't know how I could express this mismatch in her persona.

Perhaps it was those eyes of hatred of hers that shot daggers in the movie, or maybe that one sliver of vulnerability that she let slip in her interviews every once in a while. Those factors made it hard for me to decide just what kind of style I should go with her dress.

MC: And I also feel like digging deeper to uncover the other more charming side of her that no one knows...

The genius young maiden of the nation. A turbulent era of change. Self-redemption and self-destruction. All of these factors were only impactful when combined together with the era it was set in. It was only then, that everything felt fated to be.

MC: What if I added these elements to the dress?

I closed my eyes and imagined it in my head. A black feather dress inspired by the nation slowly formed in my mind's eye.

MC: I know!

Brother Mao: Heavens! You gave me a scare right there!

That was when I realized that I'd quite literally leapt out of my seat in my excitement. I gave an embarrassed laugh.

MC: Brother Mao, I'm going to go out and do some fieldwork to get some inspiration!

❖☆———————————★❖

If I were to find things related to the nation, then the museum would be the most appropriate choice.

Back when I was little, I'd always be left in the care of my mother's ex-partner when neither she nor my grandmother had the time to take care of me. He was responsible for managing this museum that could be called my second home of sorts.

MC: But, why does it look different from how I remember…?

The place had been renovated during the long period of time I hadn't been to it. All the exhibition halls had changed locations.

I followed the signs towards the hall where all the local things were displayed, only for my attention to be caught by a familiar figure.

Dressed entirely in black, said person had his arm behind his back as he stood motionless in front of the collections before him.

His straight posture made him look like a tall, yet silent, statue from afar. Under the lights of the spotlight, a faint silvery-white halo surrounded him. I could even see the small particles of dust floating in the air amidst the light. It made him look stand-offish and sharp.

I couldn't stop myself from raising my camera and snapping a shot.

Click!

The man noticed; immediately whipping his head around.

MC: ...Osborn!?

Surprised, I retreated a step; only to realize that my hands were now empty. Osborn had snatched my camera from me.

Osborn: Watcha hiding?

He cocked his head to look at the camera, the corners of his mouth upturning into an arc.

Osborn: You're sneakily taking shots of me? Let's see how they turned out.

MC: Return it back to me first!

Osborn purposely lifted the camera higher out of my reach.

Osborn: Why are you so frantic? It's not like I mind or anything.

MC: I still have things to do! Hurry and give it back already!

Osborn: What did you come here for?

MC: Photos. I came here looking for inspiration.

Osborn nodded, turning and walking away with my camera in hand.

Osborn: Weren't you here for pictures? Come on, let's go.

Does he want to accompany me?

I hurriedly chased after him and held out the guidebook for him to take. However, he'd only waved his hand in dismissal and signalled for me to follow behind him.

He led me around the museum as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. All I had to do was to name the exhibit and he'd be able to find it immediately.

His sense of direction is incredible. What is he? A human-sized GPS?

MC: Do you come here often, Osborn?

Osborn: It's my first time here.

MC: …..

Osborn let out two short laughs as he crooked his head and contemplated me.

Osborn: And how many times have you been here?

MC: I've come here a couple of times in the past, I guess. I'm not very familiar with this place. Ahem...

??: (Y/n)! Is it really you? You've come back to the country?

The curator uncle that I'd not seen in a long time suddenly comes round from a corner. He looked astonished to see me here.

Mr. Curator: You've grown into a splendid young woman in the years I've not seen you. It's great to see you back! Come by my place for dinner when you're free!

Mr. Curator: Oh, yes. Should I get you a guide? I remember that you got lost here once.

MC: No need! My friend here has a superb sense of direction!

My face heated up as I hurriedly pointed to Osborn. He didn't say anything more, only laughing as he nodded to Osborn before leaving.

Brilliant. I originally intended to keep the fact that I was directionally challenged under wraps when around Osborn, but now… He's gonna make fun of me again.

MC: Right, but I'm still pretty good at reading maps…

In the end, Osborn couldn't hold back his laughter and ended up laughing till his shoulders were shaking. He took hold of my arm in one swift motion and started walking forward.

Osborn: Come on then, Miss Direction Blind.

Osborn: I'll be the one to give you the directions now.

Somehow, I vaguely felt my heart skip a beat at that.

MC: I want to go to the national exhibit…

❖☆———————————★❖

The national exhibit had now been renovated and refurbished retro-style. All the new collections exhibited here now turned out to be clothing and accessories.

Looks like I made the right choice in coming here.

Osborn: Want do you wanna snap?

MC: That one. The brown layered cheongsam patterned through burn-out printing.

MC: The blueish-grey female damask lined jacket!

MC: And that short-sleeved georgette velvet cheongsam that's also patterned through burn-out printing!

I'd virtually snapped a picture of every outfit on display here. The tentative image I originally had in mind seemed to become clearer now.

MC: Okay, that's all.

Osborn kept the camera and glanced at the time.

Osborn: Let's go then.

❖☆———————————★❖

Dusk had already fallen by the time we walked out of the museum. The smell of sundown envelopes us in its serenity, as the breeze carries the fragrance of hyacinths.

Osborn walks up to a black motorcycle and leans on its back seat.

MC: Thank you for today. I didn’t cause you any trouble by hogging you and making you take pictures for me, did I?

Osborn: Sure you did.

MC: …Ah. What are you going to do about it?

Osborn: Then, how about you do a little something to repay me? The bracelet I was looking at earlier; have you seen anything like it before?

The image of Osborn staring seriously at the white-coloured jade cong earlier flashed through my mind.

MC: That’s not a bracelet. It’s a jade cong. They’re used as ritual artefacts in ancient witchcraft or religious sacrifices.

MC: The one you saw earlier was a typical one belonging to the Liangzhu Culture. It’s speculated that it’s used to communicate with gods or the souls trapped in this realm.

Osborn: You know quite a lot.

MC: I used to come here a lot as a kid, and I’d just tail the big sister, the guide, back then when I had nothing better to do. That’s why I remember so many things.

Osborn: Hu? You don't look like an expert at all.

MC: I’m still learning, but they do say that the better your memory, the smoother the sail of your learning curve.

Osborn: Let’s see… Wasn’t there an expert earlier who couldn’t even tell left from right?

MC: I was born with a poor sense of direction! I told you that my map reading skills were still passable!

Osborn: Okay, okay. What’s with the glare? I’m only poking fun at you.

Osborn: My sense of direction is brilliant, so just follow me next time.

MC: ……

MC: Right, but that jade cong earlier was a little odd.

Osborn: Man, the way you change topics needs a little working on.

MC: Do you want to listen, or not?

Osborn: Spill.

MC: I’ve never seen a jade cong from the Liangzhu Culture with the double-headed snake motif carved onto it before.

MC: There exists a sacred double-headed snake motif in Sumerian Culture. It represents Ningishzida, the Lord of the Good Woods.

MC: And in the mythology Ningishzida hails from, the gods used clay to create humans and make the beginnings of the first civilization.

MC: Just like the Fuxi Nuwa from our ancient mythology.

MC: Funny thing is that, coincidentally, the Sumernarian two-headed snake is also very similar to the Fuxi Nuwa.

Osborn unknowingly furrows his brow whilst muttering about something under his breath. However, he quickly returns to his usual playful self.

Osborn: Okay. I've got it.

MC: Why are you interested in something like this?

MC: I remember that the bracelet you showed me up on the roof that day had the same motif.

Osborn: Ever heard of this saying?

Osborn made a come hither motion, signalling for me to get closer to him.

Osborn: The more secrets you know, the more you'll be...

He did a cutthroat gesture whilst smirking at me.

MC: Do I look like I care?

Osborn: It has something to do with someone I'm looking for. I'll tell you next time if I get the chance.

MC: Hmm…

Osborn: But, no telling anyone about what happened today.

MC: Okay. Now gimme the camera.

Osborn: I helped you and yet not even a single "thank you" from you?

Osborn leaned further backwards, purposefully dodging my hand that went straight for the camera, a devilish look on his face.

MC: Thank you!

Osborn: Now stick your hand out.

A small lemon candy was placed into my outstretched palm alongside the camera.

Osborn: Where are you headed? I'll send you.

He flipped himself onto his bike, surveying the congested road up ahead.

MC: I can't possibly bother you like that...

I waved my hand and turned his offer down out of habit, yet inwardly, I was silently pondering about just how I was to get onto that tall bike of his.

However, just as I was about to step onto it and swing myself onto the seat, the engine gave a resounding roar as said motorbike speeded away from me.

Only a single line hung in the air in his wake: "Bye!"

MC: Hey! I was just being nice! It wouldn't hurt to have asked me again...

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-13) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-18)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

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lightthewaybackhome · 3 years

Text

Sorry this is so long. Probably should have done a 2 parter.

"My darling girl, when are you going to realize that being normal is not necessarily a virtue? It rather denotes a lack of courage!" - Aunt Frances, Practical Magic

My whole life, as far back as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be artistic. I’ve wanted to create. I love beauty. I love artistry. I love creation. I love the artsy look: jewelry, tattoos, flowing clothing, and funky hair. It is a personal aesthetic I keep returning to, especially as I get older. As a child, I tried so many different forms of art—painting, photography, drawing— but none of them seemed quite right. None of them got what was in my head out. All of them fell short until I started writing. Writing was a flame, a fire, a drug. Writing allowed me to express what was in my imagination. This is the first thing to understand.

Everyone is artistic and art is everywhere. I’ve believed this as long as I can remember. There are amazing artistic feats in our world: books, movies, video games, paintings, sculptures, and magnificent pieces of music. Yes, art can be very high and very special. But, art can also be found in charcuterie boards, homemade quilts, sourdough bread, cocktails, soup, and all ordinary things if we but look and see. Art can be high magic and art can be ordinary. This is the second thing to understand.

As I’ve embraced being a homemaker, a HearthKeeper, a woman where she’s meant to be, I came across the term domestic artist. As much as I didn’t like the book Eve in Exile by Rebekah Merkle, it gave me this. It gave me the term domestic artist. That stuck with me. It spoke to me because it captured both the first and the second thing. It captured the never-ceasing call to create which haunts me at all times, and it elevated and honored the ordinary in a sprinkling of fairy dust. It said, “Yes, you have to cook today. Three meals plus snacks and drinks. It’s your job, but, but, what if, what if instead of looking at it as some drudgery, some Cinderella enslavement, what if you looked at it as an opportunity to create beauty?”

Not every meal, every outfit, every moment of your day can be a work of art. Some days you just have to do what you have to do. Some days get upended in the opening credits with a broken washer or a sleepless child. Some days plans change. Life changes. One minute life looks like this, and then the next it’s on to something completely different. But, the beauty of being a domestic artist is that you can create art in any of these moments and in any setting. You can find art in any moment and in any setting.

See, the world tells us that homemaking, HearthKeeping, is boring. It tells us it’s pointless. A waste. You could be changing the world. Only dumb useless women keep their homes. And that’s because they’re either tied down by a dictator of a husband or the demands of children or the cultural trappings of their religion. Courage, dear heart. Courage! Homemaking is magic. Homemaking is flexible. Homemaking changes with the seasons and the woman. I, I am a bit bohemian, a bit rustic, a mixture of rugged and romantic. I grew up a tomboy, but have embraced being a woman in her home since I was a child. I love leather and lace. I love cottage-witch aesthetics. I love boots and long flowing things. I like deer heads, linen, skulls, and ruffles. I like feathers and dreamcatchers, but I also love to decorate with open space. I love pies and feeding my husband. But, look at this, one of my best friends is a classic. She loves clean lines, traditional and timeless pieces. She loves modern accents. She loves beachy highlights and hammocks. She’s not into farmhouse, rustic modern, or raw-edged wood. On any given Sunday, she’s in a pencil skirt, simple top, simple heels with her three daughters in matching dresses while I’m in distressed boyfriend jeans, a mullet-tucked top, and wearing my crow skull. We’re very different, but we’re both homemakers who love making our homes.

I have a woman in my life who quilts and that flows out into their decorating. So many of her things are beautifully hand sewn. If she wants it, she makes it. Another friend grew up in Africa and her home is filled with her love of that culture. One dear friend loves plants and grows amazing flowers that she uses to create Instagram-worth bouquets. Another woman isn’t super fluffy-feminine but she has an eye for remodeling and so is constantly making improvements on her home: flooring, painting, and more. My sisters, like me, both enjoy a minimalist approach to decorating and all three of us have a special place for coffee. Both my sisters’ homes are welcoming and peaceful even with kids running around like crazy.

That’s the point, the world tells women to band together, that we’re a sisterhood, that we should go out and change the world, abandoning our homes before we’re relegated to only kitchen and nursery work, but reality tells me that the most amazing women I know are busy in their homes. This is sisterhood. This is where we bloom. It is here that we have flexibility. For over five years, I’ve struggled with chronic health issues. Homemaking lets me decide each day what I can do and how I’m going to do it. Homemaking lets you change what you do for each season of life. Lots of littles? Keep it simple. Empty nest? Explore. Somewhere in between? Keep growing. Lots of energy? So many things you can expand into if you just refuse to believe the lie that homemaking is beneath you. Don’t be normal. Don’t believe that homemaking is a waste of time. Don’t buy into the lie that you are somehow being less than everyone else when you raise your children, love your husband, and create beauty. Have the courage to be strange. We were made for this! It suits us. This is an environment women thrive in.

When I got over my grammar inhibitions and started writing, I felt like my soul came alive. I felt like I’d finally found what I’d been searching for since I came into this world. It doesn’t matter whether I’m writing an epic story or writing about HearthKeeping or just word doodling, writing, words, stories just flow from me. Wonderfully, homemaking is like that for me, too. I want to read books, I want to learn, I want to talk about it, I want to do it. It’s not perfect. I don’t always feel glorious, but I do feel ‘right’ when I’m doing this. I feel like I’m where I belong. I feel like this is a place I can both rest in and grow in. I feel safe when I’m having a fatigue flare up and I feel excited when I think about all that I can do.

A real-life example: Sundays are long hard days. They’re days that generally spike my fatigue and my husband is worn out. They’re both the best and hardest day of the week. When we get home I make a cocktail and we crash. Inevitably, the minute I sit down my man asks for a snack and what we’re having for dinner. For several years, this drove me up a wall. It is Sunday. The day of REST, why is it my responsibility to always make food? Epic sigh. Epic whiny sigh. I would meal plan for the whole week and then wing it on Sunday and Monday, always with poor results and grumpiness on my part. Then, one week as I meal-planned, I realized that I could also prepare for the weekend. Lightbulb. Facepalm. Really? Why had it taken me into my 40th year of life to realize that if I want a quiet, restful, happy weekend, I should just plan snacks, drinks, and meals ahead of time? I’m going to blame it on my chronic health, brain fog addled mind. I’m going to blame it on laziness. I’m going to blame it on being a young homemaker. Some are understandable, some are inexcusable.

Sundays now involve way less stress because I can immediately prepare snacks and know what we’re eating the minute we get home. No more attitude issue. No more stress. Easy and nice.

Did this change the world? Does this matter to anyone but myself? Did my husband even notice? Maybe not, but this is homemaking. This is HearthKeeping. It is my job and my calling. Even without notice or world-shattering consequences, I’m pleased with the outcome. More than pleased, I’m really happy about it. It brings me joy and delight to find a better way to take care of my family. It allows me to sprinkle my Sunday afternoon with just a little bit of artistry. I make drinks, snacks, dinner. I feed my family.

See, one of the lies that the feminists preach is that we’re wasted in our homes. And yet, the majority of the women I know who work outside the home aren’t doing glamorous jobs. They’re not travel bloggers or world-renowned chiefs or CEOs. They’re cosmetologists, retail workers, bank tellers, nurses, teachers, and such. Now, none of those are bad. Working outside the home isn’t bad. (I think each family has to decide what family looks like to them.) Please, please, don’t read that as degrading. I worked retail and I think retail is important. These are all God-honoring employment in which you can strive and serve. I’m not bashing any of those jobs. I have many many dear friends who work outside the home. What I am saying is that I think we as women need to ask ourselves if leaving our homes en masse was worth it. Has it given us all the joy, delight, and fulfillment the feminists promised us?

I’ve done both. I’ve been a co-owner of a business that I helped grow from nothing to something amazing. I’ve worked as an everyday retail worker. I write and am the main editor for a small neighborhood magazine. And I’m a HearthKeeper. I will tell you right now, no qualifications, that HearthKeeping is the most satisfying job I’ve ever had. It not only challenges me every day but it also works with me. The boundaries are what I set in place and so I grow as I can. The work never ends, yes, but it also never ends. There is always something else to explore.

I think being a homemaker is largely attitude. You can buck against what you do, and most women do. Just spend two minutes on Pinterest looking at doing laundry or dishes and the bitter hatred comes pouring out. Look at the complaints women make against their churches: we’re relegated to doing nursery work and kitchen duty. What if, just for a moment, we decided to be Domestic Artists? What if, for just a moment, we tried loving our jobs instead of complaining? What if we thought that dishes meant food and good times and healing of the souls around us? What if we saw laundry as a way to keep beauty and cleanliness around us? What if we saw it as our privilege and delight to take care of the food, children, clothing, cleaning, cooking, gardening, growing of the next generation, and the men of the world? What if we embraced the domestic arts and saw them as truly magnificent, glorious, unique arts? How many of us would be able to say with a straight face that working retail is more fulfilling than managing a small world? Is it more fulfilling to go work in an office than it is to orchestrate a place of welcome, rest, and renewal for your husband and yourself? It might be more visible, but is it truly more long-lasting?

I can say that it isn’t. I can say that I think being a homemaker is uniquely suited for women and that we should have the courage to go against the grain of our world and say no. No, I’m not going to give all of myself to work outside the home when the home is far more challenging and interesting. No, I’m not going to believe the lie that homemaking is oppression and boredom. I will find beauty in the ordinary and I will embrace art in the everyday. This is one of those amazing jobs where it is what you make it. It is what you pour into it. If you think it’s boring or demeaning you won’t get anything out of it. If you think it is challenging and rewarding, you will get the world out of it. You will grow yourself and those around you. Think about what a wonderful thing it would be if we made our homes our careers! If we women really took on the label Domestic Artist in our own individual ways.

#homemaking #hearthkeeper #housewife #prose #trad wives #traditional femininity #domestic artist #writing #artists on tumblr #art

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crookswithbooks · 3 years

Text

Never the Favorite

Day Five - Declan has always hated the holidays but when Ronan brings a new person into the chaos of their lives he finds himself learning to finally appreciate them.

Declan had never liked the winter.

For as long as he could remember, the entire winter/Christmas season served only to be a nightmare and constant reminder of how estranged their family truly was. When they were younger and Niall was still alive, things had gone smoother but there will still small little inordinacies that you would find if you were willing to look close enough. Whether it was the tree that lit up despite having no visible lights, or the way he was often called away for “business reasons”, there was always something that gave away how different they really were.

Then, after Niall had died, Christmas had only worsened. Ronan was angrier now, less manageable, and Matthew would question why they didn’t have so-and-so decorations that year, or why whoever’s present showed up weeks after the actual date of Christmas. Pulling their family together for the holidays felt more like a chore than a vacation nowadays, and on top of school and dealing with Niall’s messy seconds from the fairy market, Declan didn’t have the energy or time for it. The return of January was always a relief.

This year, however, they had Adam with them. Declan had planned on just Matthew and him for this year, deciding he would skip the obligatory invite that Ronan had ignored for years. Instead, it was Ronan who approached Declan, asking about what their plans for Christmas were.

“I figured we would just have a small celebration,” Declan had replied skeptically, unsure where this was going but not foolish enough to get his hopes up. “Just family.”

Even as he had said the words, they had been hollow in his mouth. “Family” really meant Matthew and him, something that had been understood for years now. Now though, he decided to stick with the vague term.

“I’m going to bring Adam,” Ronan said as fact, ignoring the fact that Declan had said just family and that Ronan didn’t come to Christmas anymore. He had already walked away before Declan could even attempt to reply.

Now Declan found himself standing at the kitchen counter of the Barns, a tray of cookies on one side of him and hot chocolate that burbled in a pot on the stove on the other. He had been up since five in the morning preparing the abandoned space for guests, and now, five o’clock on Christmas Eve, he exhaustedly finished the last of the tasks he had set for himself. Matthew had been recruited to help out at first until it was revealed that Matthew’s method of helping out was singing Christmas carols and undoing all the work Declan had put time and effort into. He had quickly been removed from helping after that.

Ronan was on Adam duty and was currently picking him up from Stanford. The two should be on their way home about now. Declan had been skeptical about Adam at first, the one person aside from Gansey and Matthew that Ronan had chosen to let into his heart. He had been worried that Adam would break the shakily taped together pieces that made up Ronan and that Declan would have to put him back together after Adam left as he had when Niall had died—not that he had done a very good job of it then. Once he saw the way Adam looked at Ronan, however, like a starving man gazing upon an unexpected feast, he allowed himself to relax a little. Adam loved his brother, that much was clear, and he made him happy. Declan hadn’t seen Ronan happy in so long that he almost hadn’t recognized it when it surfaced.

Now he wasn’t worried Adam would break Ronan. He was worried he would destroy him.

The knock at the door signaled the arrival of the couple in question. Declan smiled, knowing that the courtesy of knocking was Adam’s doing; Ronan hadn’t knocked on any door since he was five. He smoothed out his suit, a gentle gray that Matthew said made him look like a corpse and Ronan said made him look like a douche. He turned off the heat on the stove, whirling around the corner and opening the door.

One of Ronan’s hands was placed securely on Adam’s hip, the protective curl of his fingers a warning sign to anyone who would raise an objection. Adam’s head was turned partway towards Ronan, his lips open on an unspoken sentence, but he cut himself off when he noticed Declan.

“Oh,” Adam said, the word perfectly formed. “Hey.” He glanced up and down at Declan, an involuntary action, and frowned a little. “I didn’t realize it was a formal occasion.”

“It’s not,” Ronan interjected before Declan could say anything. He himself was dressed in a rumpled jacket and jeans that were torn from years of Gansey and he’s excursions. He was wearing neither a hat nor gloves, though Declan noticed the near imperceptible shiver caused from their absence. Adam was wearing a leather jacket that, instead of dwarfing his small frame as it would have a year ago, fit snugly around his torso. He seemed almost more grown-up than when he had left for college, and Declan could see from the way that Ronan stared at him that he had noticed too.

“Matthew’s upstairs,” Declan said, stepping aside to let them inside. “I’ll go grab him. Dinner should be ready soon, I’m just finishing up the last little touches. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

“It is my home, dickweed,” Ronan muttered, only to have Adam’s elbow dig gently and discreetly into his ribs. Ronan elbowed him back, but the gesture was affectionate without any real malice. The two made their way into the kitchen, bickering all the way.

Upstairs, Matthew was staring out his window. His attention was held by the snow falling in soft spirals to the ground, some of it pasting against the window. He held his hand up to it, so that each one of his fingertips was touching a different snowflake. Declan watched him for a moment before coughing, knocking on the doorframe. “Adam and Ronan are here.”

Matthew didn’t look away from the window, though his hand fell limply onto his lap. “I don’t want to have Christmas this year.”

Declan paused. Since the moment he was born, Matthew had been Declan’s to look after, a precious new baby brother, a dream in the form of a boy. Whenever Matthew had a problem it was Declan who fixed it, quickly and unquestionably because the reality of Matthew’s pain was one he never wanted to face. When Niall died, Declan had been there to curb the storm. When Aurora came back, Declan was content to sit back and let Matthew have a mother again. When Aurora was gone he was also the first to come to his side. He gave Matthew everything he wanted because when Matthew was smiling he was happy and when Matthew was happy Declan could be okay.

Now though, he felt his stomach clench unpleasantly and he dropped his hand from the doorframe. He sat down next to Matthew, the mattress creaking under the combined weight, and stared out the window with him. “Why not?”

“Because I’m a lie,” Matthew said, and with those simple words the world shattered around Declan. “I don’t even know if I like Christmas or if that was just something that was programmed into me. What if all the happiness I’ve felt with you and with dad and with Ronan was just a fairy tale that you guys let me live? What if none of it was ever real?”

The only one who hadn’t known Matthew was a dream had been Matthew himself, and it was a secret that the two brothers had kept for seventeen years. Both of them had agreed that the information was something that Matthew was better off not knowing—it was about the only thing they did agree on. Unfortunately, secrets are only kept for so long, especially when they relate to the person in question. Declan had never seen Matthew as desolate as he had been that day on the dock when he first found out about his true identity, and he had promised that he would never let him look that way again.

It was a promise that he realized now, looking at the pinch between Matthew’s eyebrows and his bitter frown, that he had failed.

“None of it was a lie,” Declan said after a moment, unable to look at Matthew as he spoke. “Ronan can’t influence your decisions. He only brought you into creation, like a mother would.”

“But that’s not how his dreams work,” Matthew protested. “A mother doesn’t get to choose her child—Ronan chose me. He…” He struggled for a moment to find the right words to explain and Declan waited with a growing sense of unease. “He picked my eye color and the shape of my hair and the fact that I’m happy and that you’re not and that I love him and that you don’t—”

“I love him,” Declan interrupted, Matthew’s words hurting more because he could tell he meant them. “Why would you say I don’t love him?”

“You’re always fighting,” Matthew muttered, picking at a scab on his arm. “And yelling at each other. The only time you ever talk to each other is because of me. I know that. I’m not that dumb. And I say I love him all the time. You never say that you do—not once.”

From downstairs, Declan could hear the clattering of plates that meant Ronan and Adam had started to set the table, and the soft murmuring of voices. He forced himself to look at Matthew, needing him to understand him, needing this Christmas to be a good one because if it wasn’t it meant that they truly could never be normal and Declan didn’t want to have to deal with that fact.

“I do love Ronan—and you. I love you both because you’re my family. And just because you’re a dream doesn’t mean that you’re not a person. Ronan’s dreams don’t always do what he wants them to. They evolve and they grow into something more than just a dream, in the same way that people do. You’re just as real as any of the rest of us. You’re just… different.”

Matthew glanced up at him shyly, a child uncertain at the love of a parent. “Do you… do you really think that? That I can be a real person?”

“You are a real person,” Declan assured him with a confidence he wished he could feel. “Now let’s go have dinner with the others. I’m sure they’re wondering where we are.”

Adam and Ronan were kissing when they finally came downstairs, though kissing was a polite word for what they were actually doing. Evidently the two had figured that Declan and Matthew wouldn’t be joining them for quite a while, as Adam’s body was pressed against the corner of one of the living room walls, Ronan’s body bearing down on him. From the looks of it, Adam’s tongue was halfway down his brother’s throat and Ronan’s hands were unaccounted for under the other boy’s shirt.

Declan opened his mouth to announce his presence, but before he could diffuse the situation delicately, Matthew bounded into the room oblivious to the scene, and starting serving himself up mashed potatoes. Adam jerked back from Ronan, the tips of his ears burning an embarrassing shade of red. Ronan simply leaned back, seemingly uncaring of the two new people in the room with them.

“Table’s set,” Ronan said, shark teeth flashing, a dare for Declan to say anything.

“Thank you,” Declan said coolly, not rising to the bait. “Matthew and I were just having a talk. Sorry to take so long.”

“I’m sorry—that wasn’t—” Adam blustered through a couple more half-sentences before Declan’s smile assured him it was nothing he wasn’t already aware of, knowledge that did nothing to help Adam’s already mortified state.

Dinner, usually a quiet affair for such events, was unusually lively. Ronan and Adam fell into easy conversation with Matthew joining after a moment, the boy seeming to have no end of things to talk about. Even Declan himself managed to get a sentence in or two without having his head chopped off, mostly due to the inclusion of Adam who defused most of Ronan’s snarky remarks.

In fact, as the evening went on Declan found himself having a genuinely good time. Adam and Matthew softened Ronan’s sharp edges, the presence of two of his favorite people together serving to curb his usual anger. There were even moments in the night when Ronan would laugh at a joke Declan made or respond to one of his questions genuinely without being his usual asshole self.

They ate cookies and drank hot cocoa that Ronan had apparently spiked with something, a fact Declan didn’t learn until the warmth in his gut was too pleasant for him to be sincerely angry about it. Matthew was the first to fall asleep, the unexpected alcohol being too much for him, and Ronan and Adam quickly followed pursuit. Ronan’s rested on Adam’s collarbone, their two bodies intertwined on the couch that was to be a makeshift guest bed, and Declan listened to their breathing slowly even out into a gentle hum.

Declan stood up, drawing a blanket over Matthew and going about the process of cleaning up and wrapping presents to put under the tree. Half an hour later, he stood over the pile of bodies in the living room and wondered at the people who had slowly become his family, his real family. Never before had Declan felt like he belonged, always seeing himself as a protector to his brothers and merely a colleague to his parents. Throughout the years, Christmas after Christmas had gone by, and every time Declan only found himself feeling worse as the night went on. In that moment, however, with Matthew’s face smiling and serene in sleep, and the sight of Ronan and Adam curled protectively about one another, he realized he had finally discovered a family that he could not only care for but that might care for him back.

He decided to join them in the living room instead of going to his bed like usual, and as he lay besides Matthew’s gently snoring body, he found himself content for the first time in his life.

#the raven cycle #trc #declan lynch #matthew lynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #twelve days of ficmas #pynch #fanfiction #call down the hawk

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random-imagines-blog · 3 years

Text

Eyes Half Closed {General Glozelle x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2771 Summary: You’re the Temaranian princess, Caspian’s older sister, and throughout the events of The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian, you and the handsome General’s lives are intertwined.

The woods always seemed so wild, even in the middle of the day. Your tutor, Doctor Cornelius, had told you the forbidden stories of how the trees used to dance in the wind, rather than loom over you, the way that they did now. How everything was alive with magic and love before your people, the Talmarines, had conquered Narnia and stamped everything that was wonderful about the land out. Perhaps you were too old for such fairy tales, perhaps you were in too high a standing, a Princess, but you believed it somewhere in your heart. And you constantly went searching for it in the woods. You never went too far, knowing that Glozelle would be worried if he could not find you near the borders. You had escaped from him once more, from your brother Caspian and his sword-training, from the eyes of your Aunt Prunaprisma, and your Uncle Miraz, to find a shady spot to sit and to draw. A small bird caught your attention, up in one of the trees. Tiny feet so gentle, it hardly stirred the leaves. You began to sketch it out on a piece of parchment, charcoal staining your fingers. But a sound from behind you caused the little dear to flit away, leaving no proof of it’s existence in it’s wake. “I was trying to draw, General Glozelle. I finally found a model that might sit for me, unlike yourself, and you scared it away.”

“My apologies, Princess,” The General said, dressed in the finery that was his uniform. The bright sunlight that came through the canopy above shone off of his silver gauntlets, brightening up the woods further. “But your aunt has been looking for you. Perhaps if you follow me, I could neglect to tell her where I found you?” He raised an eyebrow, knowing that you would be in so much trouble if your family had found out that you were in these woods. Many of the knights would not go near it. Strange noises sometimes erupted from their depths after the sun came out. But you were not scared - you were fascinated. And you had the feeling that Glozelle was too, since he was the only one who would come after you in here.

“Yes, I suppose I should get back to my needlework,” You rolled your eyes, putting your drawing utensils back in their places. “As if she doesn’t have enough pillows for her child, and they haven’t even popped out yet!” Glozelle winced at your usage of the word ‘popped’, either because of the imagery or because of how casual you could sometimes speak. You were not like the other royal members of the family who were so eloquent at all times. Even your brother Caspian. He spoke like a true Prince. But as a Princess whose only real use was being married off one day, though you were approaching getting too old for that, you weren’t given the proper tutoring. “It should be any day now, shouldn’t it?” You replaced your satchel on your shoulder, and Glozelle offered you his arm to walk you over the briar on the ground.

“Yes, Princess,” He said, helping you through a particularly tough bit of shrubbery. You squeaked a little as you felt your shoe being tugged off of your foot by the branches, getting stuck there. These were castle slippers, not meant for woods wanderings. But that had never stopped you before. “Allow me,” He would say. He’d let go of you for only a moment, would free the shoe from it’s leafy prison and would put it on the ground in front of you. In true gentleman fashion - Glozelle always was, he had his hand held up so you could take it for balance. So you could put your shoe back on without risk of falling or tripping, a bad habit of yours.

“Thank you,” You said with a smile, slipping your foot back inside. You wished he was not wearing those annoying gauntlets of his, that you would be able to feel the warmth of his hand, like you used to when you were a teenager and he would accompany you on walks, on your Uncle’s orders. You used to have the biggest crush on him, despite him being an older man. He was everything that you had ever thought a King should be, quite unlike your Uncle. He was handsome, he was kind, he was gentle, he was brave, he was smart... You could go on forever about his virtues.

He continued to hold onto your hand until the trees thinned out and turned into the sprawling green grounds of the area in front of the castle. You could faintly see your brother from where you were standing, swinging his sword, hitting it against one of his practice dummies. “Are you still teaching Caspian?” You asked, curiously.

“Yes,” Glozelle said, not being a man of many words. Walking onto the grass felt more comfortable than the brambles of the woods and you were able to move a bit faster, and he matched you stride for stride. “My offer of teaching you secretly is still on the table.”

Oh, it made your heart beat to think about it. To be alone with him under the cover of night, with only the moon and the stars as your light. Hand to hand combat with swords. But no - war was not something that you wanted to get involved in. “But then I won’t be needing you to protect me and you may be out of a job, General,” You said with a smile. You turned the corner and saw your aunt sitting on a bench under a blanket held up by poles to keep out the sun. She was working on her own needlepoint. A gift for her child when they would arrive. The whole country was hoping for a boy. You knew that Caspian and the Doctor were hoping for a girl. Something about succession. You did not know. You did not care for royal things. You heard a small chuckle come out from Glozelle as he handed you off to your aunt to continue with such silly exercises with the needle and thread.

Your aunt had a boy. The kingdom was celebrating. You could hear fireworks coming from outside of your window. You opened it wide to take in the sight of them, flying high up into the sky and then exploding with colors. It was a sight beautiful enough to take your breath away. The news spread quickly, and you could not wait until morning when you would get to see the little one. To play with him, to smell his fresh little baby head. To listen to him make little garbling noises.

But then a figure taking off through the grounds. Towards the woods - your woods. Caspian. His hair was streaming behind him, always long, one sign of youth that he had refused to shed. And then your own bedroom door was pushed open, the lock being broken as your Uncle’s soldiers came into the room. Dressed in your nightgown, you instantly went to your bed and picked up a blanket, hiding yourself under it. “You’re to knock before entering a Princess’s room,” You said, aghast. “What is the meaning of this?"

General Glozelle pushed past them, his armor clanking against theirs. He looked furious. And frustrated. You had never seen him in such a state before. “Princess,” He gasped, coming in close. So close, you could see the darkness of his eyes. Something you always noticed, even in your worst of moments, such as now. “Forgive the intrusion - but you must stay inside of this room until further notice.”

“What is going on? Where is Caspian going?” You asked. But he gave you no answer. Only a look which showed that he wished to speak volumes upon volumes but could not. His status, his job perhaps - or Miraz’s orders prevented him. “You cannot tell me, can you?”

“I do not know when I’ll be back. But you will be safe in here. Your meals will be brought, and you can ask for what you like - books, your drawing paper, just as long as it is not a weapon...”

“Who would I have to fight? Glozelle? Please, talk to me,” You pleaded. You took hold of his hands, feeling not the smooth metal but the warm flesh. He had not yet put them on. It was a miracle. You had not felt his soft skin in so long. He hesitated in his movement away, grasping onto them. In a show of affection he had never shown before, he lifted them to his lips, put a kiss on them to warm them up in the chill of the night.

“Stay safe, Princess, I’ll return for you.”

And then he was out the door, leading his men behind him - all but two, who enforced a lock on your door. They barred it so it could not open. No matter how much you pounded against it, no matter what you tried to hit it with or how much you asked for help or information, no one would give it. You went back towards your window, saw the celebrations still going on below, and then many of the knights in their full gear, riding their horses back to the forest. They shirked in the face of the trees, familiar to you but not to them. Except for Glozelle, who rushed forward, and then encouraged the rest in. Your hand went over your heart as you sank to the window seat, watching as everyone that you loved rushed into the dangers of those woods. And you, a prisoner in this room without idea of what was happening.

It all became clear so quickly. And your heart was completely broken by this turn of events. Glozelle and his men had been sent to murder Caspian in the night, but he had escaped, due to help from Doctor Cornelius. You were not even allowed to see your tutor, who had been imprisoned in the dungeons of the castle. Your brother was on the run, supposedly being helped by Narnians. You, like mostly everyone else, had thought them extinct. The only company you were allowed was your Aunt and your Uncle, and your little cousin, and very rarely under their supervision, Glozelle.

You were still not allowed to leave your room, except to bathe and do your toilet. Your only exercise was pacing along your room, nearly making a hole in the floor. You went mad with worry for Caspian. You prayed every night for his safety, leaving a candle burning in your window to let him know that you are safe.

That had come in handy, for one night, an invasion came upon the castle. The sounds of soldiers fighting had reached your window, and cautiously, you had stuck your head out. A young man, nothing but a boy, was sitting on what appeared to be a very large flying eagle. It was absolutely remarkable.

“Princess -” He said, offering you his hand. “Your brother sent me to save you. My name is King Edmund-”

“Like in the stories!” You announced. You couldn’t believe that all of this was real. You reached for his hand, ready to escape from your confined room when your door unlocked and was pushed open. Glozelle stood there, seeing you in your nightgown, your hand nearly touching this stranger’s. Your bedroom was high in the tower, even seeing someone up close to it was frightening. He withdrew his sword, and you - well, you withdrew your hand from Edmund’s. “Glozelle-”

He looked between you and the young man outside. Edmund muttered a, “Hurry, come on.”

“He’s my brother,” You said, hoping that he would understand. He stepped more into the room. He looked older than he ever had before, being forced into doing so many things. He was in a war with the very boy that he had taught to spar, had spent years helping to raise since your father died. He was tired. He was haggard. And there was nothing that you wanted more than to stay with him. To run your fingers through those dark curls and assure him that everything was going to be alright. But this was not your place right now. Your brother needed you. “I’ll come back for you,” You said, rushing to his side and placed a kiss on his cheek. And then you ran - jumping out your window onto the large bird that was waiting to take you to safety. You were looking over your shoulder the whole time, watching as the castle - your home, grew smaller and smaller, further and further away and you hoped that tonight was not the last time you would be seeing Glozelle.

As the defeated army were handing over their weapons, you were rushing through the people, looking for one person in particular. You had seen him get carried off by one of the tree roots. From your vantage point up high with the archers, safe behind their long arrows, you saw how deadly they could be. “Please, please,” You said, looking from face to face. You even got into the water, the river bunching up the bottom of your dress, soaking the shoes that you had borrowed from Queen Susan. So many pale faces. So many defeated expressions.

But you didn’t find him. Your heart felt like it was sinking lower and lower into your stomach. You didn’t even get to tell him your feelings. You didn’t get to tell him that you had loved him since you started to understand what the word really meant. Since you realized there was love beyond familial.

You stood with the Kings and Queens, all of them including your brother, as Aslan started giving people the choice to go back to the original land. Your brother was going to stay. He was going to be King of this land, as was his right to be. And he would probably find a wonderful woman to be his Queen, even if you saw that he held Susan in his heart, and would have little princes and princesses and -

“I will go.” A familiar voice said. Your eyes started to seek desperately through the faces again just to spot Glozelle - your Glozelle - with a cut across his face. It did nothing to marr his features. In fact, it added something, somehow. “I will accept the offer.”

He started to walk forward through the crowd. You barely took in that Caspian had given him a nod of respect for that. And then your aunt, and your cousin stepped forward.

“I will as well,” You said, not taking your gaze off of Glozelle. You skittered over to his side as fast as your now bare feet would let you, taking hold of his arm and looked at the scar over his eye. There were gasps from the crowd - for they had been convinced that you would stay and would be their Princess. But there was no need for you to stay. Caspian would be King. And he would be a thumping good one, thanks to all that Doctor Cornelius had taught him. “I’ll go.”

Glozelle looked as surprised as the rest of your people. You took his hand, his real hand. No armor on his body. Just a tunic, leather, skin. He was warm. He was okay. And wherever he would be, you would find a home. The castle would just feel empty without him, just as the camp with the Pevensies had been.

When you finally looked over at your brother, he was staring at you, his face full of understanding. He had to have always known your feelings, you had been fawning over him since you were a teenager.

“Because you have spoken first, your future in that world shall be good.” Aslan said, as you stood there with the man that you loved.

“I know it will,” You spoke, bringing your attention right back to Glozelle’s face. And he was looking back at you. There was a light in his eyes as he squeezed your hand back. You breathed out, feeling happy for the first time since you had been locked inside of your room on the day your little cousin had been born. You felt warm breath on your face, and then walked, unwatching, into the portal that Aslan had created, ready to emerge into what was a new world to you, an old world to your people, into your fresh start with Glozelle with you.

#General Glozelle #General Glozelle x reader #General Glozelle oneshot #Narnia #Narnia oneshot #oneshot #one shot #misc #x reader #request

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maries-gallery · 3 years

Note

hey hey !

I was hoping you'd do a matchup for me ?

pronouns | she - her

sexuality | straight

likes |

i love to read ! It's one of my favourite things.

i have a habit of sleeping in the sun alot.

music ! it's usually always on in my room, it helps me cope.

I like to always dress up, even if I'm never out and about.

I like kittens alot, and bunnies I have my own two kittens !

ideal partner |

someone who's in it for the long run.

someone I can dance in the middle of the night with.

and doesn't wear me out, a person who'd just sit with me sometimes.

and to take care of me, I'm sick so I need to be taken care of to exist-

oh, and they can have fun and tease me.

type | nsfw and sfw please !

appearance | I'm 4'8, olive skin, curly wavy black hair and big brown eyes

extra things | I stutter alot

thank you !

good luck on doing the matchups

have a wonderful day 🕊️

always, 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑎

Match ups are closed

Hello there ! First I wanna say that you sound so cute and really aesthetic ? I get real cottage core vibes here and this is so satisfying.

Now, I match you with Jean ! (Although it was a close tie with Reiner)

SFW :

- For him it would be love at first sight. You are just so adorable and nice and kind... Truly, in his eyes you are too good and pure for this world. Honestly his heart just melts in his chest, world stopping around him when his eyes land on your form. Speaking of which, the first time the both of you were probably kids and lived in the same village. Yes Jean has had feelings for you for a long time now and guess what ? There is not a day during which his heart has not beat for you.

- The first time the two of you met was as children, he had been out and about to help his mother bring home some bread and food when he caught you dozing in your garden, sun gently caressing your skin and grass making a soft bed for you to rest upon. He just stopped a moment to admire you and his mother had to call him at least four times before he got a move. Ever since then he tried to approach you without ever really having the courage too. He tried to bring pies and cakes to your house, claiming his mother had made them for your family, and tried to catch glimpses of you in the garden or outside. He was just so smitten with you and you didn’t even know he existed. But one day he finally got the courage to approach you and the two of you became very good friends ! That was also the first time he heard your voice and your stutters just made him blush so hard. No need to say, his crush slowly left place to a strong and everlasting love, never to change across the years. He also adores the more teasing and playful side of your personality which just complements his own so well.

- He absolutely loved everything about you. From your sweet and kind personality to your quirky habits of sleeping outside, having music on all the damn time, or dressing up for no reason. It was all perfect to him. His heart swells in his chest to the point of exploding when he sees you interacting with kittens or bunnies or any small animal really... And well he is not really one to read but he loves to see you engrossed in a book, turning pages after pages or hearing your voice as you read aloud... Actually the two of you made it a habit, you meet in the afternoon on sunny days, lay under a tree and he just listens to you as you read him a story. He also always sticks up for you and never leaves your side.

- But then you grew up and the two of you joined the corps... You became one of the iconic duos there, always together and sticking up for each other. Jean being super protective of you and you being a pure ray of sunshine, always managing to highlight the softest side of this man. And after a particularly hard expedition that’s when Jean decided he had enough. He didn’t want nor intended on spending his years swallowing up his feelings and fearing for your life all the time. He wanted you to know how hard his heart beat for you, how you meant everything. Gosh he wanted the whole world to know that he was so damn in love with you and had been for the longest of time. Luckily for him you returned his feelings, and this made him the happiest man alive.

- Now, Jean is a huge romantic (even if this may not shine through at first). Your happiness and well being are his top priorities and he is dead set on making it out with you, to live your own fairy tale once this is all over. I can see him planning and daydreaming about your marriage and a life together very early on in the relationship (or even before that to be honest). He just loves you so much and knows that you are the one for him. That said, he’d be even more protective of you after the two of you start dating, quitting whatever he was doing to help you if you needed help, always ready to punch someone if they were to insult or tease you for your stutters. And yeah, God have mercy on whoever makes you cry or hurts you because he definitely won’t. He already lost Marco and won’t let anything happen to you.

- Overall his love for you is very pure and wholesome. He doesn’t even really think of you in a sexual way (well not before you start getting sexual that is). He just wants to hug you, cuddle you, kiss you and bring a smile to your face, make your heart warm in your chest like you do to him. That said he would definitely be the type to spin you around in your living room, in the dead of the night and in the silence of your home. He’d also draw you and paint you and would ask you to model for him very often. He’d be the kind to lazily play with your hair as an outlet for his nerves. But he also loves it when the two of you can have silly banters or playfully tease each other. He’d chase you around the room to tickle you to death, would squish your cheeks together to laugh at how you look like a blob fish and would carry you around, laughing at your silly attempts to get out of his grasp.

- Then another amazing feature of your relationship is probably how you are always very supportive of one another. Jean tends to feel very insecure deep down and you know it, thus you always have a kind and reassuring word for him whenever he feels down. Just like he always has words and gestures for you when something is wrong, ready to listen to you and hold you.

- Honestly the two of you are just so beautiful together and such a good pair. He’d respect your boundaries and is a very soft boyfriend. He also brags to everyone about how wonderful his girlfriend is, regardless of how shy you may be.

Song :

Adore You, Harry Styles

Scenario :

The soft glow of the moon showered the dark living room in faint rays of light. Stars were out to admire the spectacle below, two lovers dancing to the beat of their own drum, ignorant of time slipping by and day approaching fast. In their own world, away from everyone and everything, secured in the comfort of their home after years of fighting for peace.

One step to the right, one to the left. And repeat. Jean’s arms held you close to him, never letting go. A hand on your waist and another holding your hand to guide you in a slow dance. His nose buried in your hair, inhaling as he hummed a soft tune for the two of you only, a few howls and creatures of the night accompanying him in his solo. You leaned against his chest, ear pressed against his heart and listened to it beat just for you.

He gently cradled you, swinging the both of you from side to side, careful not to bump into any furniture. Although the couch and coffee table had been pushed back against the walls to make room for your performance.

His loving eyes glanced down at you, a tender smile curving his lips.

How had he gotten so lucky ? He had loved you for so long, the two of you had seen and lived through so much. And still there you were, peacefully dancing in the living room after the world nearly came to an end.

He still remembered the first time he saw you, he was 10 back then. You were lazily lying on the grass, eyes closed and locks of hair softly ruffled by the gentle wind, sun shining down on you like you were its very own child. From that moment on he had been yours. You had stolen his heart without even looking at him, without even knowing he existed.

During all these years he had admired you, loving you in silence and watching after you, marvelling at every smile and every laugh, every moment the two of you shared. And now here you were, resting in his hold, your heart his as much as his was yours. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now with nothing on your way, the future has never looked brighter. And although the past may cling onto you, you’d face it hand in hand, ready to take over the world again and finally live your happily ever after.

And this happy ever after started tonight as Jean gently let go of you, spinning you around and then getting down on one knee, hand going to his pocket and retrieving a small box.

And there, under the kind gaze of the Moon, your boyfriend looked at you, stars in his eyes rivalling the sky’s.

“Would you be mine forever ?”

NSFW :

- Jean is traditionally a gentle dominant. He is here to serve and loves to take care of you. Very gentle in all everything he does, every touch he leaves on your aching body and every kiss he places on your begging skin. He wants nothing more than to hear you moan and to feel you twitch and crumble in his hands. His favourite positions would be missionary and cowgirl. He loves eye contact and the view, how he gets to see every expression you make. He also has amazing access to your shoulders, neck and face, perfect to rain kisses and love bites on your skin as he thrusts into you.

- He can honestly be both gentle and passionate or rough and fast. In function of what you want and how he feels in the moment. But rest assured that he loves to take his sweet sweet time with you, to savour your touch and the warmth of your body pressed flush against his. That said you’d be completely satisfied and full after a session with Jean. His objective is to please you and give you a good time and he is not straying away from it. He also sees sex as a very romantic and special thing so expect lots of soft and gentle gestures like holding hands, eye contacts, brushes of his lips on your jaw and whispers of how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.

- But don’t be fooled, guy is also a huge huge tease, he knows perfectly what he is doing and how crazy he makes you by barely dragging his fingers on your skin, from your chess to your inner thighs. Foreplays just last forever with him, with you begging for his touch and him very casually and innocently asking you why you are being so fidgety when he barely touched you yet. Yes, that is the problem, Sir. He’d let his hand ghost over your entrance and would steal your breath with a kiss, all the while enjoying how you wiggle your hips in an attempt to bring him closer, to have him touch you where you want him the most.

- When it comes to kinks he has a huge daddy kink and loves to please his sweet little baby girl, he’d compliment and praise you in the dirtiest of ways, whispering in your ear how good you are doing for daddy and how he is proud of his pretty baby girl. On the other hand, praise him and he’ll be putty in your hands, passion flooding through his veins and he just can’t stop himself from making a mess out of you, picking up his pace and giving you exactly what you want. He is just so weak for you. He also has a breeding kink and the thought of one day having a family of your own just... Drives him wild with desire and love for you. He also has a size kink and loves feeling himself inside of you by pressing a hand on your abdomen. But overall he is just very much vanilla.

- He isn’t particularly loud when he moans, but he does a lot of talking and praising. Then he also grunts and sighs in your ear and when he finally reaches his high he’d let out the prettiest and sweetest call of your name. Your moans really gets him going too and he just loves to hear you, would sometimes ask you to moan louder just so he can bathe in the sound of your pretty voice.

That’s it ! Hope you enjoyed it and take care of yourself :))

#aot x reader #snk x reader #Matchups #jean x reader

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eirian-houpe · 3 years

Text

Beauty Enlightened

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Grace | Paige, Blue Fairy | Mother Superior

Additional Tags: curse, Angst, Romance, UST

Series: Part 2 of Beauty...

Summary: Lady Belle of Adelram Hall is dismayed to find her husband-to-be missing, and is brought to find, and to save him, by the man who confesses his love for Rumplestiltskin.

Beauty Enlightened

As the remaining winter days became a thing of the past, and the the first spring morning dawned, brighter and clearer than anyone anticipated, it was with a flush of renewed nervousness that Belle greeted the day.

Since before midwinter, so long ago now that she could barely remember the awkward days of stilted conversation, when she would twist the jewel on the ring finger of her left hand, the day of her fiance’s return had been a constant, and surprising, point of anticipation. She had been unable to come to know the man to whom she had promised herself, before business had called him away. A relief of sorts, for how could she not think it fortuitous, the chance to learn the estate she was to manage? With Grace for company, the time was such a gift.

As she sat with the young woman that morning, though, their mood was somber on what should have been a day of celebration; the first day of spring. They took breakfast with barely a word spoken between them. There had been a letter come that morning. Two as it turned out, as Grace slowly slid the missive across the table to her.

The paper was the same soft velum as before, with crisp, sharp folds, but the hand upon the front of the letter was not the looping cursive, not was it in her fiance’s customary ink, but in a deep, burnt umber color, and the seal on the back was in the shape of a hat.

“Aren’t you going to read it?” Grace asked quietly, sounding almost as fearful as she was suddenly. She took a deep breath, and then hooked her thumbnail beneath the seal, preparing to break it. Then she froze. A single word in tiny letters was printed beneath the seal, and she lifted it closer to her face to peer at it.

Believe.

She frowned as she read it, and a slight shiver went through her, like a warning, or some kind of expectation.

“Belle?” Grace questioned.

She shook her head. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said and tugged at the seal until it broke from the paper and she could unfold the letter, swallowing hard as she did.

The message was short, and to the point. It read, “Miss French, I shall call for you at 2pm, and you must trust me, and come at once.” And it was signed with the same, strange cursive as on the envelope with a single name. Jefferson.

Without knowing why, Belle felt her eyes fill with tears, and she fought not to let them escape. There was no real reason to suspect that Jefferson’s words meant anything untoward. She slid the letter over to Grace.

The girl read silently, then said to herself, “He went through with it,” in a tone that was part question and a good deal of worried surprise.

“Went through with what?” She questioned beginning to chew her lip in worry at what might have happened. Mister Gold had said that his journey was for business. What kind of business could he possibly have had that would warrant such a comment?

Grace shook her head, though she reached to cover Belle’s hand with her own. “It’s not my place to tell,” she said. “Wait until my papa gets here. If he doesn’t explain, then he can show you.”

The greeting was not tearful. Belle would not allow it to be despite being worked almost to a frenzy by the appointed hour. Grace, too, shifted foot to foot as the Grandfather Clock in the main entrance hall of the house chimed the hour. Belle looked toward the door which for a moment seemed to shimmer as if it lay beyond some great blaze that she could not see, and then from nowhere, a man appeared as though he had simply come fully formed into existence even as she blinked.

He was tall and slender, neatly dressed for all his clothing was of mismatched colors, set off by the patterned, purple cravat tied around his neck with the ends disappearing beneath the v of his button festooned, soft leather vest. Most curious of all - more curious even than the high collar on his long coat - was the hat he carried in his hand. A tall, top hat, a little scuffed in places, but carried as though it were either the most precious, or the most dangerous, thing in the world. He stepped forward, and behind him came another man, though not Gold. This man had the look of a tenant farmer, tidy, but clearly a man accustomed to work.

Jefferson opened his mouth to speak, instead let out a soft ‘oof’ as Grace knocked the breath from him. She ran to him and threw herself against him with a cry of, “Papa!” Then Jefferson wrapped her in his arms, and lifted her feet from the ground to hold her close, as though she were a small child and not a young lady approaching adulthood. “I’ve missed you,” she said.

“And I you, my Grace,” Jefferson said softly, then setting her down added, “But there will be time enough for this later. Now we must bring Adelram’s lady to her lord.”

“I can come too?” Grace said with great excitement.

“Indeed,” Jefferson said, and waving his free hand at the farmer, continued, “I anticipated you would; nay, you must.”

“For the same amount of people that go through have to come back,” Grace recited.

“No more, no less,” Jefferson finished, and then looking up at Belle told her, “The hat’s rules, not mine.”

Belle shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she said.

Releasing Grace, Jefferson stepped closer to her, holding out his hat in her direction. It seemed to her to be an ordinary hat, and she looked up at Jefferson and said with exaggerated patience, “It’s a hat.”

“A magic hat,” he said. “A hat that opens portals to other worlds, other places.” Belle frowned, but did not scoff or deride Jefferson for his words. He spoke with such conviction that she found herself unable to do other than believe. “When I left from here, through the hat, it was with Mister Gold. Hence…” he gestured toward the farmer who was standing now, looking awkward, cap in hand, “…who incidentally should probably be fed and given lodgings until I can return him to his home.”

“Of… of course,” Belle stammered, and nodded to the silent, ever present Dove, who led the man out of the hallway.

“Now, since we must go, and bring back Mister Gold,” he pointed in turn at each of them. “We must be three.”

The mention of bringing back her fiance rekindle Belle’s worries.

“Did something… happen?” she asked hesitantly.

Jefferson’s face became somber. “A great deal, dear lady, and you must not be alarmed at the changes you will see.”

“What is it?” she snapped. “Is he injured… ill?”

Jefferson held up his hand. “Easier to show you, Lady Belle,” he said.

Swallowing hard, she nodded, and watched as Jefferson stepped back, set his hat upon the floor, and with the flick of a wrist, set the garment spinning.

A spot of darkness appeared then, as if it had climbed out of the depths of the hat, and after a moment expanded as it became surrounded by a purple maelstrom, which looked as though it should have been accompanied by a great wind. Instead, it brought silence, as though it had sucked into itself all the sound in the world to leave nothing in the space left behind.

Jefferson held out his hand to Grace, who took it without hesitation, then offered his arm to Belle. She glanced first at Grace, who nodded, filling Belle with the courage to slip her hand into the crook of Jefferson’s arm. With no further warning then, he jumped into the dark spot in the heart of the swirling mist, pulling Belle and Grace along with him.

Belle expected a feeling of falling, instead as though in a long, slow blink, the darkness swallowed her one moment, and in the next, before her stood a large, empty room encircled with doors, each bearing a different motif. Beside her, Jefferson once more had the hat in his hand.

“Wh— what… where are we?” Belle asked, feeling quite faint as she tried to comprehend all that was happening to her and around her.

“The Hall of Doors,” Jefferson told her, then added sharply, “Grace, come away!”

The girl jumped, and snatched her hand back from the door that she was reaching for, it’s mirrored surface shimmering, as though calling to be touched.

“Where does it lead, Papa?” Grace asked, contrite as she came to take Belle’s hand.

“Nowhere we ever want to go,” he answered, leading them toward a door on which the leafy motif of a tree stood out in stark relief against the dark oak of the wood. He reached out to pull open the door and Belle gasped. Beyond the threshold she saw a rolling countryside, with a rich forest on the other side of the fields. “This way,” he told them, and stepped through. Grace tugged on Belle’s hand, pulling her through, until Belle could feel the breeze on her cheeks, and hear the soft susurration of the leaves rustling in the trees.

She turned around, expecting to see through the doorway back into the Hall of Doors, and uttered a cry of surprise as she saw only more countryside, and more forest.

“Where are we, now?” she asked.

“This is the Enchanted Forest,” Grace answered. “It’s where I was born.”

Jefferson was already striding ahead, his long legs taking him further from Belle and Grace, who encouraged her to hurry to catch up.

“Where are we going?” Belle called to him.

“Into the woods,” Jefferson called back, without slowing his pace.

Breathless by the time they reach the cottage that was just within the shadow of the trees, Belle reached out and caught hold of Jefferson’s coat, bringing him to a spinning halt and then fixing him with a stare she hadn’t used in many a month. She folded her arms across her chest.

“I’m not taking another step until you tell me what’s going on,” she said.

Jefferson took in a deep breath, that seemed to fill his entire frame and then held it, his face beginning to redden with the effort until he let it out in an explosive breath as he answered, “Very well, but… come inside. We shouldn’t talk about it out here.” He leaned toward her then, and added in a voiced whisper, “You never know who’s listening.”

He nodded then to Grace, who led the way into the little cottage. It was more spacious than Belle anticipated, and in one corner of the main room, across from the fireplace was a loom, and from the beams hung hanks of yarn of many natural colors as though they were drying.

“Welcome to my humble home,” Jefferson said with a low bow as he followed them in, and then set his hat upon the nearby table.

“I… you… live here?” Belle asked softly.

Jefferson shook his head, even as Grace began to move around the cottage, gathering the things she would need to make tea, after lighting a fire in the hearth.

“We’re hardly ever here,” he said, gesturing to Grace and himself. “Not since Rump— since Mister Gold began his… journey.”

“Journey?” Belle said. “But he’s lived at Adelram Hall for as long as I can remember, I—”

“Yes, yes,” Jefferson said, as if trying to curb impatience. “That he has, but you see, before that…”

“Before that I wasn’t even born,” she argued, “and my mother before me said—”

“—that Mister Gold has been the Lord of Adelram and its surrounds for as long as she could remember. Since she were a little girl?”

“Yes.”

Jefferson just nodded, and then picked up a scroll from the table, which he handed to Belle. She hesitated a moment, before she began to unroll the parchment. Faster than she could have anticipated, Jefferson reached out and placed his hand over it and warned her softly, “Be very sure you wish to know, my dear lady, everything that you do not yet comprehend about your husband to be.” Belle fixed him again with the terrible stare, and with a gesture of submission, Jefferson stepped back, hands raised, and gave her a nod. “Then read, dear lady,” he said, and went to help Grace with the tea.

Belle watched the two of them for a moment, before she returned her attention to the scroll in her hand, and began to read. It was a heartbreaking, and yet terrifying accounting of spells and dark magic - all of the things of rumor about her fiance from her own world, writ large upon the page - unbelievable and fantastical creatures, faithless pirates and evil queens, and a curse… darkness bestowed by a mystical dagger and all in service to finding—

“A son…?” she questioned, looking up to find Jefferson and Grace long since engaged in cooking a meal, and lamps lit around the cottage. Jefferson wiped his hands and came over to her, to take the scroll from her hands. He nodded wordlessly. “He never said.”

“He wouldn’t,” he said, urging her to sit, and lowering himself to straddle another chair, turned backwards, and to lean on the chair back as he spoke. “After so long, and all the things he’s done as the Dark One…”

“Dark One?” Belle echoed.

“Last in a long line of Dark One’s before him,” Jefferson answered, his eyes unfocused into memory. “He took the curse, not out of avarice or greed, as those before him had, but out of love. The love of his son - the desire to save him, save all the children from fighting in a terrible war against fearsome and merciless creatures… but it was from men that he was saving them.” He sighed. “There’s… a prophesy,” he said, refocusing again, his eyes meeting Belle’s, “that tells of one that will use the power of the Dark One for good.”

“You think that’s Mister Gold?” Belle as much stated as asked, barely giving a thought to her acceptance of this tall tale that her fiance could be some kind of dark sorcerer from this ‘fairytale’ world.

“He was the one that gave me The Hat,” Jefferson said in answer. “I should hate him for it.”

Belle watched the intensity of loss flash across Jefferson’s eyes, to be replaced by the quiet seriousness of a no less intense emotion that she recognized well… because she felt it too.

“You love him,” she accused softly.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Silence lingered for a time between them, before Belle raised the scroll between them once more. “So… what is all this? Why bring me here? Why couldn’t you just… bring Mister Gold back to Adelram.”

Another silence, and then almost a whisper, Jefferson answered, “Because he… doesn’t remember.”

“Tell me,” Belle insisted, “everything.”

In answer, Jefferson gave her only three words. “The Blue Fairy.”

Day had barely begun when Jefferson, leaving Grace sleeping in her own bed after so long, led Belle out of the cottage and along the track between trees leading deeper into the forest.

Her head swiveled back and forth, peering into shadows cast in green and gold as rising sunlight reflected off the leaves. The woods around them were alive with the song of awakening wildlife, but hushed, as if in some kind of awe - as if they were listening, and it made her listen too.

It was faint at first, almost so faint that she missed it. It carried on the wind… an impish giggle here… a cascade of words there… a grumble and a growl before more laughter.

“Is that…?” Belle whispered, almost too afraid to ask.

“Lost to madness, I fear.” Jefferson’s morose tones pulled a knot of anguish tight in her gut, and Belle stopped to lean against the nearest tree - listening.

“…careful not to lose the way…” snatches of babbling words reached her as she waited. It did little to curb her growing fear. “…to get the thing…” a peel of laughter. “…to make the potion…” a grumble, “…to get, to bring…” a growl, “…and home before—”

The nonsense stopped abruptly, followed by a loud sniffing, and then…

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” the singsong voice challenged. “Or maybe I should just…”

Before she knew what had happened, Belle found herself surrounded by a chill, purple mist. One minute leaning against the tree, the next…

It was a small clearing in the wood in which she found herself, beside a fallen tree that had partially rotted and was covered in fungi of many different kinds. The ground was littered with last autumn’s leaf fall, and twigs and other debris of the winter past covered the ground. In the center of the clearing, was an area that looked burned, scorched and black with coals, but the rising sun, shining through the prism of dew caught in the budding leaves above, cast rainbows over the coals as if pointing to the fearsome dagger buried at least half way along its fluted blade in the middle of it all.

On the other side of it crouched, goblin-like on the stump of the fallen log, a creature with green-gold scales over what she could see of his exposed skin, beneath a mop of wavy hair. It… he was dressed in leather britches, with a brown, scaled waistcoat over a black shirt, the sleeves of which billowed outward as he moved his arms as if waving them over the top of the dagger in some kind of arcane incantation. His head jerked up, lizard-like and Belle found herself captivated by amber eyes that bore into her, as his head swayed side to side, as if in an attempt to capture something… elusive… recognized.

“If you’re trying to frighten me,” Belle said, pulling in the fear she felt and trying to turn it into anger, “You’re wasting your time.”

She gasped softly then and took a half step backwards as he hopped as quick as the sound of a bell, off the log to stand before her, his arms half raised in a gesture of… what she couldn’t tell. However she reacted before she could catch herself, reached out and slapped the back of his uppermost hand as if to punish an errant child.

“You stop that, right now!”

She saw him then, clearly, as if for the first time, recognizing, through the hair and the scales and the color of his eyes and his skin, the image of her fiance.

“Mister Gold?”

He took a breath, held it, and then it sighed out before he announced, “Well that was a bit of a let down!”

“That I wasn’t afraid?” she lied. “I’ve never been afraid of you. You know that.”

Jefferson had told her that the only chance was for her to reach through the madness into the mind of the man she knew, to draw him back from the precipice on which he teetered after falling foul of the wards placed on what remained of the portal the Blue Fairy’s bean had opened; the one that took Mister Gold’s son from him.

“Know…? Know…? No,” he answered, but then… “but maybe… no… it’s gone.”

“Belle,” she reminded him. “Your fiancee, remember?” she leaned down a little to peer into his strangely alluring eyes for he had lowered his head. “You made my father promise you my hand because he stole one of your roses…?”

“But,” he answered, insisting, “I’m not looking for lurve…”

“Then what do you want?” she interrupted, adding, “You seemed to be… all the times we danced together. The way you held me. The way your breath…” her throat tightened as she remembered the sensations that had woken in her when his breath ghosted over the side of her face as they turned and turned in the dance and he held her close.

“I’m looking for a caretaker,” he went on as she faltered, “for my rather large… estate.”

“Adelram Hall, yes,” she agreed.

He stepped closer then, a frown upon his face, and began to circle her, and she could almost feel his eyes on her, moving up and down, taking her in, devouring her with his gaze.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Something, I—”

Then recognition was gone again, and he giggled, trilled, the whole of his upper body wriggling in delight as he rubbed his hands together. “Something special,” he crooned. “You…”

He trailed off as she turned her gaze from him, and back to the blade in the middle of the coals. It was as though it had called to her. Words whispered in her mind, an impulse, a command. Free me.

She stepped forward, instinct warning her that she shouldn’t touch the coals in any way, even though she knew they were long since cold. She leaned down to look properly at the blade, and the carvings upon it, the word she could half read, “…tiltskin,” she whispered.

The imp-that-was-her-intended giggled then, and sang, “The queen will never win the game, for R—”

“Rumplestiltskin,” Belle breathed as she closed her hand around the hilt of the dagger and pulled.

She felt the pulse of energy go through her, as the blue light from the rainbow cast by the rising sun exploded through the clearing. Belle felt herself begin to tumble forward, toward the coals, fear gripping her suddenly as she knew she could no longer avoid the inevitable.

Then, just as she would have touched the cursed place, she felt the strength of an arm around her waist, then another at her shoulders as she was eased upright again, and the words caressed the side of her face in a breath, “Rumplestiltskin is my name.”

“No!” a discordant cry from above the fallen log broke the moment. “What have you done!”

Rumplestiltskin, for now Belle knew the name by which she should call him, released her gently from his embrace, but eased her also behind him.

“Failed,” he said, his voice steady, recognizable to her now. “Failed, failed. You failed.”

The Blue Fairy settled on the ground, in full sized, human form, and addressed, not Rumplestiltskin, but Belle who - unafraid, moved to stand beside the man to whom she was promised.

“Foolish girl!” she snapped. “Do you know what you have done? How many will now suffer at your hand?”

“You don’t know that,” Belle accused, “And from what I understand, equally as many have already suffered by your hand. You send his son from him,” Belle pointed to the coals upon the ground, “tried to cage him in madness by pinning him with this,” she raised the dagger between them, and the fairy shrank back, “into the very place of his torment?”

“Give me the dagger, Belle,” Rumplestiltskin said softly.

“You can’t do that,” Blue warned, “He will enslave you with it,”

“No,” Belle countered, remembering all she had read, and all that Jefferson had told her. “He is a slave to the dagger in anyone else’s hands. It belongs to him, and I mean to return it to him, and to keep the promise that I made.”

“I forbid it!” The Blue Fairy took a step forward then, until Belle brandished the dagger again, this time as one would ordinarily hold a knife for fighting. The fairy froze.

“No one decides me fate but me,” Belle informed her calmly, then turned, and taking the dagger by the blade, offered the hilt to Rumplestiltskin.

“It’s forever, dearie,” he warned, though with such softness as she had ever heard from him since she had met him as Mister Gold in her own world.

“My father, the people, back home… they will all be safe? Cared for?” she asked him.

“You have my word,” Rumplestiltskin said.

“Then you have mine,” Belle told him. “However this,” she gestured with her free hand around them, “plays out, whatever must be done. I will help you find your boy.”

Rumplestiltskin reached out, and closed his hand around the hilt of the offered blade. As he took it into his possession, the clearing, the fairy, everything dissolved around them in a haze of purple mist, which cleared slowly and she found herself standing in the great hall of a castle. The room, however grand, was simply furnished, with a table, two chairs beside a roaring fireplace, and a great spinning wheel, set upon a nearby dais.

As she wondered at this, she caught sight of herself, her reflection in the glass of a cabinet that stood against the wall, to find herself dressed in the most beautiful of golden gowns. She blinked, and turned to face Rumplestiltskin, to find him smiling at her, similarly dressed in great finery, a blue and silver brocade tunic and britches.

“Care to dance, my dear?” he asked.

“But… we have no music,” she answered in wry amusement, but remembering the time before - the first time they had danced - moved toward him anyway, and closer yet as his arm slid around her, and he took her hand in his.

“Maestro,” he whispered, and from out of the very air itself, came the strains of Chopin, as if he had read her mind, her memory.

Where their hands met she felt as if a tingling passed between them, still softly, but stronger than before, and it rekindled the feeling that fizzled in her lungs, a tenderness and excitement that she would never have expected to feel from so strange a being as was this man - the Dark One, that would be her husband.

Their movements matched the gentle nature of the music, the light piano tones guiding their steps, and as before, she followed him with ease, and with delight. Then the music intensified, moving to a minor key with many crescendos. He tugged her closer, and she held fast to him. The gentle fizzle becoming an ache, a need to be subsumed by the music, by the one that held her, turned with her, pressed her close to move as one, his thighs parting hers to step, to move around the spaciousness of the great hall that still did not feel large enough to contain them, and she became lost in him.

And then…

As if a dream, the power and energy that had possessed her, possessed them both, faded as the music turned again, to fall over them as the gentle patter of rain, washing them both clean, bathing them, blessing them together, and they came slowly to a stop, she breathless, and he…

“I rather fear I forgot myself,” he said, barely above a whisper, repeating the words he had spoken to her once before, but which held so much more meaning now. “Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive,” she whispered in return, and pressed a hand to his chest to feel his heart beat strong, fast, but slowing against her fingers. “Rumplestiltskin… I will stay, with you, forever.”

#rumbelle #angst #curse #romance #ust #beauty...#a monthly rumbelling #a monthly rumbelling september 2021 #i will always write jefferson

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