#THESE TUMBLR MAIDENS IN MY REPLIES! MY LIKES MY FOLLOWS!

[gyarufreak]

the tumblr maidens are kicking my ass

[charlotte-official]

9/19 Recap

Boob Shenanigans: Continued

With all the rage, the poll was finally finished after a grueling 24 hours. And the final results, quite unexpectedly, Former Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham won by a landslide

Alhaitham won with the grand total of 60% of all the votes in comparison to:

Blue Oni, Takuya’s mildly pitiful score of 4%.

And Arataki Itto, Leader of the Arataki Gang, who scored a mediocre 36%.

With the finality of the poll, the discussion comes to an end. Or does it?

No just kidding, following the official closing of the poll, no genshin-official accounts have mentioned it. (according to my sources.)

Fatui Hater and Fatui Harbinger Segment Fight Ferociously to Defend their Honor and Deny Marriage Claims!

 In response to September 18th’s article, Uta, the prior mentioned Fatui Harbinger segment was enraged with the assumption that he and Diluc Ragvindr, Owner of the Dawn Winery and crucial key player in Mondstadt’s Wine economy were flirting.

Quote: “NEWS LADY. I AND @diluc-official NEED TO HAVE A CHAT WITH YOU. WHY. DO YOU THINK WE'RE FLIRTING?? WE DO NOT LIKE EACH OTHER. ESPECIALLY NOT IN SUCH A WAY. SO THEN WHY DO YOU THINK WE'RE FLIRTING OR SOME NONSENSE LIKE THAT?? WE'RE ENEMIES.”

It didn’t end there though, in a chain of messages being delivered to the Steambird’s ask box, UTA frantically rushed to try and protect his dignity and refute the claims of being like an old married couple.

Quote 2: “... We WEREN'T flirting! I do not flirt with him! I don't like him so why would I flirt!! …”

Charlotte, Editor of the Steambird and runner of steambird tumblr then called him oblivious and told him that it was quite obviously flirting.

Quote 3: “It is not flirting!! We are not flirting! I am trying to annoy him damn it!! I am not that oblivious!! I'm pretty sure I can tell if it was flirting or not, and it very much was not! I do not like him enough to be flirty. I don't think he'd be pleased with that either. How is it even flirty?? I sincerely doubt it is!”

Editor Charlotte then told UTA that his remarks were quite suggestive and he was saying these things at evening, a relatively romantic time.

Quote 4: “Okay, it might have been suggestive. I can understand that part. But I doubt suggestive can count for flirting! And i chose that time because it seemed to annoy him!! Why else would I bring that up to an enemy? Because it probably threw him off guard! You wouldn't actually talk about kinks to someone who actively hates you! It is to annoy the hell out of the emo. I am NOT INTERESTED in him like that!!”

End quotes

Diluc Ragvindr, the other man in the situation, also had some.. Things to say.

In a flurry of messages delivered to the Steambird’s ask box, Editor Charlotte decided to not respond or feature these messages in the article because of how.. Vulgar and aggressive they were.

Young Shuumatshuban Ninja gets Stuck in Tree because of Evil Shrine Maiden

A Bitter Faruzan, elder in Haravatat, and Hat Guy of Vahumana then squabble afterward

Young Sayu, a ninja of the Shuumatshuban, finds herself stuck in a tree, hiding from a “wicked shrine maiden”- Kano Nana. 

Arataki Itto offers to catch the young girl, but she’s still intimidated.

Especially because Arataki Itto is how she describes, “A bumbling moron. But a pretty nice moron”

Faruzan, an elder in the Darshan of Haravatat, offers to help, offering to make a wind current so Sayu can fall safely. 

In thanks, Sayu quips that Hat Guy revoked certain piggyback privileges** and asks Faruzan why she and Hat Guy argue so often.

**Piggyback privileges, reference to a day or two ago when Vahumana’s Hat Guy told Sayu he’d be willing to carry someone on his back should it be necessary, but after Sayu told Arataki Itto that Hat Guy complimented his boobs, Hat Guy got a tad bit upset and decided to revoke his statement on being willing to carry someone on his back.

Which was dubbed “piggyback privileges”

Faruzan replies that it’s because Hat Guy(Whom she has dubbed “Hat Bastard”) is a “bitch”.

This ends in a small squabble between Faruzan and Hat Guy, despite it being very short lived compared to past vicious bouts between the two.

Reminder of the Day!

Today, Albedo, Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius seems to have been out of his game.

Tired, overworked, etc

So today’s reminder is for everyone to get enough sleep and take a break if you’ve been working very hard lately!! 

This applies for EVERYONE. (Genshin-official or not.)

Small tidbits!

Kaedehara Kazuha gets high on Naku Weed.. Again. 

Kaveh, Famous Architect, denies claims from Shikanoin Heizou. Again.

Missed Details from yesterday!!

Dottore’s clones release a petition to shut down the Akademiya.

It seems to be backfiring hideously. Especially with a lack of roughly 498 signatures.

That wasn’t worded with malice! Do not misinterpret that as hostility please! (- charlotte)

Fontanian Ghost who died over a century ago comes to mock Kaedehara Kazuha about killing his ancestor. 

Kaedehara Kazuha sobers up from his Naku Weed high and snaps back to reality to talk back. 

In the craze, another ghost joins the fray- Nameless Bard. and he SWEEPS the competition and knocks out Fontainian Ghost Guy, Escher.

Who, in which, is famous for being in the Mondstadt Revolution, but also for his sick comebacks.

This even caught the attention and amusement of Focalors/Furina, the Hydro Archon.

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Take it Back - Beau x Daughter!Reader Oneshot

Summary: When an unusual case lands on Beau’s desk, it leads to suspects and outcomes he couldn’t predict. 

Rating: 18+ // Pairing: Beau Arlen x daughter!Reader

Tags: nude photos, leaked nudes, anger, frustration, bratty!reader, major daddy issues, objectification, absent father, Beau being a terrible father, spanking, p in v, father/daughter incest, orgasms, hair pulling, cum in mouth, shame, guilt

WC: ± 4K

A/Ns: I wrote this before seeing any of season 3. I don’t know what it is, but once I finished writing this I actually felt really gross. I cannot believe my first Beau fic is father/daughter. What the hell is wrong with me? Anyway, enjoy if you’re just as fucked up as I am!!! A/Ns 2: I’m thinking of returning to posting to tumblr with a dark, gritty and smutty Soldier Boy series, so this oneshot is a bit of a trial to see if my audience is still out there 😅 So do let me know if you're reading and would like me to return! ❤️

Beau Arlen Masterlist // Jensen Ackles Master-Masterlist

“Mornin’, Sir.” 

“It’s Beau,” he replies without looking up from his cell. 

“Well, Beau, you’ve got a case.” 

He finally looks up at his company, smiling softly at her as she places the brown paper folder down on his desk. 

“Great, ‘bout time something happened around here, been getting bored,” he grins. “What is it? Kidnapping? Homicide? Drugs?” 

“Leaked amateur pornography,” she replies flatly, clasping her hands together in front of her. 

“What? Why have I got that? You know I’m the sheriff right?” 

“Victim kicked up enough of a fuss, asked for you to deal with it personally. You pass it on to whoever you want, I don’t give a shit.” 

“Alright,” Beau sighs, reaching for the folder. “Thanks, darlin’.” 

He waits until she’s left to look down at the file, reaching for his coffee to take a large slug. He licks his lips as he considers who would want him to deal with this personally, when it’s not really his kind of thing in the first place, but he guesses all he has to do is open the report to find out. He looks up to check his door is closed given the nature of the case, and clears his throat, opening the file to the first page. 

Y/N Y/L/N

“Fuck,” Beau mutters to himself, his forehead pulling into a frown. 

He instantly reaches for his bottom drawer, grabbing the whiskey bottle inside and unscrewing the cap, pouring a healthy measure into his coffee mug, following it with a quick slug straight from the bottle for good measure. Right now, all it is is words, but he knows beyond the first page will be the photographs that have leaked, screenshots from websites where they’re currently on public display. He purses his lips slightly as his eyes reread the name. He knew she’d changed her name to her mother’s maiden name, but seeing it there still hurts a little. But the main question still on Beau’s mind is the same one that had been there before he learned the victims name; why him? Why specifically ask for him? If anything, the motive is even more unclear now. 

Beau stares at the front page for a long moment, worrying his bottom lip as he weighs up his options. He’s a sheriff – an officer of the law – he should treat this case like any other, he should look at it factually and do his job. Though technically, maybe he should take a step back, hand this over to someone else who doesn’t have any kind of personal interest. But now Beau knows about this, he won’t be able to let it lie until whoever leaked those photos and plastered Y/N all over the internet for just anyone to find and jerk off to is caught and held accountable. 

He turns over the first page before he can change his mind. The copy of the photo has been censored, blurred out squares covering her most private parts, which Beau decides is definitely a good thing, he doesn’t need to see those parts of her. She’s standing in front of a full length mirror, one hip pushed out to the side, her legs slightly wider than a natural stance, her upper half twisted and curved to show off her chest. She’s done up for the photos, a lot of make up and her hair styled. Beau moves onto the next one. This one is a little less innocently posed than the first. She’s sitting on the floor this time, her legs spread and bent at the knee, her face a little clearer. She’s grown up a little more since Beau last saw her not long after she turned eighteen just over a couple of years ago. 

Much like the last, this photo is censored too, but it’s enough that Beau gets the gist of the photo, and moves on to the final one. This one has been taken with the front camera of her cell phone. Her back is to the mirror and she’s on her hands and knees, Her face in full view, but the view from the mirror is definitely where his focus goes. Once again, it’s been censored, but Beau still knows exactly what her intentions were when she took this photo. 

He huffs a breath as he skips ahead, now finding the screenshots of the various internet sites that the photos have appeared on, including one called “Revenge Porn”. Beau can’t exactly be mad with Y/N for taking the photos, she is a full grown adult who can do what she wants now, but he thought he’d done a good job reminding her of being safe on the internet, and this is certainly not safe. 

He closes the file and takes a much needed mouthful of his coffee, wishing it was just straight whiskey and it wasn’t nine A.M. This is not how he thought his day would go. But after only a few more moments of quiet contemplation, with several mouthfuls of coffee to accompany them, Beau finds himself reopening the file, flicking through the photos again. There are no answers there, of course, and they’re definitely not going to help him to close this case in any way, but he stares at them anyway and thinks about how long it’s been since he last saw her, how much she’s changed.

Beau finds himself reaching for the whiskey bottle once again, taking another swig straight from it, and licks his lips, sighing heavily as he once again closes the file and grabs it, getting up from his desk to take it to someone else. He shouldn’t be the one working on this case, even if she wants him to be. 

“Alright, listen up,” he announces, heading over to the whiteboard at the edge of the office. “We’ve got some kind of revenge porn. Should be an open and closed case, trace the IP address from the poster, lock ‘em up, job done. Who wants it?” he asks, holding up the file. 

The file is snatched out of his hands by Mannings, who is quick to open it straight onto the photos. 

“Damn,” he chuckles, “I’d be pretty pissed off if a girl like that broke up with me too.” 

“Victim claims she doesn’t have an ex-boyfriend,” Beau explains, digging his hands into his pockets so he can’t clench them into fists. 

He watches the file get passed onto Roberts next, who also ogles at the photos with a smirk on his face. He wolf whistles, which prompts it to get snatched yet again by another guy. 

“Damn,” he chuckles, and Beau just gets increasingly frustrated as he watches every member of the team enjoying the evidence, not a single one of them seeming to remember exactly where they are or what they should be doing. 

“Jesus, what I wouldn’t do to her. I’ll take the case, boss, I can go talk to her right now,” Collins calls out, his partner elbowing him in the ribs as they laugh amongst themselves. 

“That’s someone’s daughter, show some respect,” Beau glares at him. 

“Might be someone else’s daughter, but I can have her calling me daddy,” Collins counters, and the room erupts in laughter. “Clearly she’s got daddy issues.” 

“Alright,” Beau grunts, heading straight over to Collins and snatching the file out of his hands. “Seeing as none of you can think without your dicks, I’ll take it myself.” 

He grips the file in his hand for dear life as he storms back to his office, slamming the door closed behind him. He probably wouldn’t rest if someone else was on the case, anyway. It’s not like he didn’t try to get someone else for the case, but he’s the best man for the job. 

He heads back over to his desk and sits down, rubbing his fingers over his mouth as he stares at the front page once again, seeing the long paragraphs of her statement but not taking in any of the words. A knock at his door prompts him to look away, and when he looks up he sees Jenny leaning in the doorway. 

“Need help with that?” she asks, pointing to the file. “Could be good to have a woman’s touch.” 

“Nah, I’m golden thanks, sweetheart,” Beau forces a smile. “It’s easy enough, should have it wrapped up by the end of the day.” 

“Alright,” Jenny agrees, walking away and closing the door behind her. 

Alone again, Beau sighs, spurring his computer to life as he figures he should probably stop dragging this out and close the case as soon as possible. 

“Are you sure this is the right address?” Beau checks, looking down at the paper he’s just been handed by the cyber security team. 

“Yes sir, nearly every upload came from that same address. Some of the others have come from Canada, India, other countries, but usually in these cases, people save and reupload once they’ve found them.”

“Okay, thanks,” Beau sighs, prompting the guy to leave. 

He waits until he’s alone to wake his computer back up, clicking on one of the open tabs. It brings up one of the websites the photos first appeared on, and Beau tells himself that it’s just research, that it’s justified because any good officer of the law would look at all the evidence, but Beau’s got all the answers right there in front of him on that slip of paper that has the address on it, and he knows it. 

He takes one last look at the uncensored photos, chewing on his bottom lip as he tries to take his eyes off of the screen, but it’s like he can’t stop looking. 

His phone buzzes on his desktop, forcing his eyes away, and he takes the opportunity to close down the tab completely so he doesn’t have to get caught up in it again. He takes one last look at the slip of paper with the address on and grabs his car keys, ready to close this case once and for all. 

Beau takes a deep breath as he knocks on the door and looks up and down the street as he waits. Not much has really changed, not that he’d expect it to, everyone on this street has always been such a creature of habit. He stares at the American flag waving on the porch for a moment and then hears the front door opening. 

“Dad,” Y/N answers, her eyes a little wide. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know, Y/N,” he tells her with a sigh. 

“And here I was thinking you’d just come to see your little girl, considering it’s been… what? Three years?” 

“It’s not been that long,” Beau insists. “Is your mom home?”  

“No, she never is,” Y/N tells him, stepping to one side. 

Beau takes a moment to look at her. He’s not as shocked at the difference in her after staring at the photos of her all morning, but the change is a little more obvious in person. Eventually, he steps inside what used to be his house, and Y/N closes the door behind him. 

“So I’m assuming this is about what’s happened?” she asks. “Did you catch them?” 

Beau stares her down, but she’s as stubborn as ever apparently, because she just stares back with complete resolute. 

“So your statement says that you didn’t send these photos to anyone, they just happened to end up online somehow,” Beau reminds her. 

“Yeah, guessing someone hacked my phone or something,” she shrugs. 

“Why did you take the photos in the first place if you weren’t going to send them to anyone?” he asks. 

Y/N just shrugs again, crossing her arms over her chest. “For a confidence boost? To feel hot? I know you don’t like thinking about it, Dad, but I have a sex drive, y’know. I’m not a little girl anymore.” 

“Yeah, well the morning I’ve had has proved that,” he agrees, exasperatedly. Beau takes a deep breath and decides to put them both out of their misery. “I know you leaked your own photos, sweetheart.” 

Y/N’s eyes widen, but she quickly purses her lips and shakes her head. “What? Why would I do that?” 

“You tell me, darlin’,” he prompts, cocking an eyebrow. “You can’t lie to me, Y/N. I’ve got the evidence, and if anyone else on the force had taken this case, you could’ve been done for wasting our time.” 

“That’s why I specifically asked for you,” she smirks slightly. 

“Why did you do it?” he presses once more. 

Y/N clenches her jaw and then sighs, looking down at her feet. “I had to get your attention somehow.” 

“By posting photos of yourself naked online? You know I had to see them, right?” 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” she shrugs, her arms still crossed. 

“You could’ve just called,” Beau counters, glaring. 

“For you to tell me you’re busy with work and then promise to see me this weekend and then call and cancel at the last minute?” she argues. 

Beau takes a deep breath and realises she’s right. “Alright. I know, I’ve been a shitty father,” he agrees. “But this wasn’t the answer. Baby girl, those photos are online forever, we can try to remove them, but people can have copies, and they’ll always crop up again.” 

“Oh well,” she shrugs, like it’s no big deal. 

“You don’t care, do you? You have no idea what you’ve done. Do you know how many men are going to see you like this now, and you’ll never be able to take it back.” 

“What do you care?” she scoffs, moving past him to head into the kitchen. 

“Excuse me? Of course I care. You’re my daughter.”

“The only reason you’re here, Daddy,” she counters, stepping closer to him, her face right up in his, “is because it’s your job. You don’t give a shit about me and never have. You barely even know me, you’ve always put work first. You have no right to be this pissed with me.” 

Beau clenches his jaw, not wanting to argue with her any more on that. They’re already going around in circles. She just stares him down for a moment or two before a small smirk plays on her lips. 

“Unless…” she counters, her smirk only growing deeper. “You’re pissed because you’re jealous.”

“Jealous of what? Hm? Don’t be ridiculous,” Beau scoffs, shaking his head at even the implication. 

“Did you like what you saw, Daddy?” she purrs, biting down on her bottom lip. 

“You’re crossing a line, sweetheart,” he warns her quietly. “All this for my attention, hm?” 

“Well, if I wasn’t getting yours I knew I’d get some guy’s attention,” she giggles. “Only difference is, if another guy from the force showed up I was gonna fuck him.” 

Beau bites his tongue, wanting to verbally ask the question of where he went wrong, but he knows they’ve already established that; he has never done this father thing right. Him being so absent is everything to blame for this situation. 

“That’s all you want? Some guy to give you five minutes of his attention?” Beau asks through a clenched jaw. 

“If he’s doing it right it’ll be longer than five minutes,” she winks, giggling at the way Beau only gets noticeably more irritated by her blasé nature. 

“Oh sweetheart, you were never spanked as a child and it fucking shows,” Beau grunts, his anger only building more and more, especially when Y/N only smirks harder and bites down on her bottom lip, still completely unphased. 

She steps back, hitching the skirt of her dress higher up her thighs as she begins to bend over the table in front of her, giving Beau a full view of the white lace panties she’s wearing underneath. He clenches his jaw and averts his eyes at first, but he finds his gaze wandering back to the one place it shouldn’t go, as he thinks about the photos that she leaked, and how one of them saw her in a similar position but with far less clothing on. 

“What are you doing?” he huffs, only getting even more frustrated. Only this time, it’s with himself. He shouldn’t be fighting with the thoughts that want to enter his brain. He shouldn’t be pushing away all the feelings that want to bubble to the surface. Beau’s not sure he can even acknowledge them right now. 

“It’s never too late to start,” she tells him, looking back over her shoulder, her eyes almost sparkling. “Daddy.” 

“Get up,” Beau demands, his tone a lot more firm than it’s been since he got here, but Y/N does no such thing, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth and wiggling her ass slightly. Beau can no longer deny how tempting it is, and clearly his words aren’t getting through to her, so maybe some good old-fashioned corporal punishment is just what his bratty daughter needs. “Fine.” 

Beau steps up behind her, his jaw clenched, and he has to physically unclench his fist and make sure he keeps his hand flat as he delivers the first spank upon her ass. Y/N flinches and whimpers, but then a short giggle bleeds through her lips, so he delivers a second, just has hard as the first, leaving behind a dark handprint on her skin. Y/N whimpers again, gasping for air, and before he knows it, Beau has delivered a third. His palm is stinging so he can only imagine how Y/N’s ass feels, but there’s something about it that he’s getting some kind of sick, twisted pleasure from, and it’s like he can’t stop. 

He delivers spank after spank, losing himself in the anger of the moment, and he thinks maybe he’ll finally get through to her, until the sound of Y/N moaning cuts through his foggy brain, and as he halts the next strike, he realises his chest is heaving and his jeans are painfully tight around the crotch. 

“You’re enjoying this?” he asks in disbelief, ignoring the fact that the ludicrous question should be aimed at him not her. 

“Did I forget to mention it’s one of my favourite things?” she asks innocently, blinking at him over her shoulder. “It just gets me so wet, daddy.” 

Beau can’t think straight through the fog of his arousal, mixed toxically with his anger. He begins to laugh, even though there’s nothing funny, and a small frown twitches over her forehead at the sound. 

“You want attention, sweetheart? All this is for my attention, hm?” he asks, reaching for his belt. She barely nods her confirmation, and Beau almost relishes in the slight fear that begins to flood into her eyes. “Alright, then you’ve fucking got it. Exactly what you’re craving.” 

“Daddy? What are you doing?” she asks, her voice a lot less smug than it has been. 

Beau ignores her, undoing his pants the rest of the way and stepping up behind Y/N as he reaches for her panties and tears them down over her ass, revealing that pussy he’s already seen plastered over the interest. It’s glistening more now, though, and something about that makes Beau’s cock twitch. 

“Don’t play fuckin’ dumb, baby girl, you knew what you were doing posting those slutty little photos. You were fuckin’ asking for it, so I’m gonna fuckin’ give it to you.” 

She whimpers as he grabs her hips and pulls her closer to him, her upper half falling a little more flat to the table top. 

“I know exactly what a girl with daddy issues needs.” 

Beau doesn’t overthink grabbing his cock and lining it up with her opening, and he doesn’t think twice about thrusting forward and shoving his cock straight inside his little girl, not until he’s as deep as he can get, and he stops for a second, feeling her warm, wet cunt suck him in, clenching hard around him like a vice. Slowly, she relaxes, giving him the room he needs to start thrusting, and he can’t help but moan at the sensation, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. 

“Fuck, Daddy,” she gasps out breathlessly. “You're so big. Fuck, I can’t believe you’re inside me.”

“Don’t play dumb baby girl, this is what you were hoping for, wasn’t it?” he grunts, reaching forward to grab a fistful of her hair. 

“Y-yes,” she stammers out, arching her back into the table, her eyes fluttering closed. 

“Did you want it to be me? Or were you desperate for just any man’s cock in there?” She doesn’t answer at first, but Beau wants one, so he tugs harder on her hair. “Hm? Did you want your Daddy or are you just a slut that needs anyone’s cock?” 

“Yours Daddy, I wanted it to be yours, that’s why I sent the photos,” she admits on an outbreath. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist your baby girl.” 

“Jesus,” Beau grunts, hating that he’s fallen straight into her trap, but he can’t deny he’s never felt this good before. His cock fits her perfectly, like she was made for him. 

“If I’d have known you had a pussy this good, I’d have stuck around,” he tells her, clenching his jaw harder, fucking her deeper and faster. He doesn’t really mean it, but his brain is so foggy with all these good sensations, and every time he says something dirty, or treats her like a whore, she clenches around him in a way that Beau can’t even describe. 

“Fuck Daddy, keep doing that, it’ll make me cum,” she gasps, reaching back and grabbing his hip, pulling him closer to her and sending his cock deeper. “Right there, right there,” she chants, and then he feels her grip onto him like a vice, her walls beginning to spasm around him as she screams out. 

The sound of his little girl screaming like that, the sight of her with her mouth wide open and her eyes rolled back in ecstasy, the sensation of her practically milking his cock is having the desired effect on him, and Beau can feel his thighs begin to tense, his balls begin to tighten as he pulls out quickly and tugs on Y/N’s hair, manipulating her to land on her knees at his feet. She instantly opens her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out, the corners of her mouth pulled up in a smirk as she waits patiently for his orgasm. It comes in hot, thick ropes of cum painting her tongue and mouth as he groans and pants over her, quick to let her go and step back as soon as he’s finished. 

Beau turns around, unable to look at her as he puts himself away and attempts to redress as quickly as he can. 

“Can you get the photos down?” she finally asks. 

“I’ll try,” he tells her, not looking back at her. 

“Are you going to visit again, or do I need to post more of them?” she challenges. 

Beau takes a deep breath, unable to stop the shame crawling over his skin. Not only for what he just did, but for what he drove her to do in the first place. 

“I’ll visit,” he tells her, nodding his head. 

“Then I’ll be here, Daddy,” she purrs. 

But Beau doesn’t reply, he just leaves the room in pursuit of his truck, hoping there really is a way he can remove those photos from existence before they send him back to her doorstep again. 

[amenomiko]

Dear followers on Tumblr. My precious friend from other medias.

I owe you an apology.

I let myself be too depressed and return back to the old me who can't accept reality and move on to overcome me. I'm sorry I make you worried. I'm sorry if I didn't reply any messages or comments. I'm sorry for being like that.

RP is an ugly world. Both if you have strong mentality or not. Some people can be unfair, selfish, and wont admit it. Some give you empty promises but wont really carry it. To some of you who find it silly, please don't think so. Rp world may be fake, but it involves my real feelings.

Until the day a suitor come to open my heart again, I will quit as a maiden. Once again, I'm sorry, for making you worried.

[super-ion]

Undine

(previous chapter, next chapter)

Read from the beginning (tumblr, ao3)

Chapter 3

Undine stepped into the dimness of the house to come face to face with her mother.

"Undine, dear," her mother bade. "Would you please light a few candles for our guest?"

"Mother, the storm-"

Her mother waved a hand in a dismissive hushing motion.

"Yes, it certainly came out of nowhere, didn't it? Hopefully it won't last long."

"It will," Undine said ugently. "It will blow longer and fiercer than any-"

Her mother placed a hand on Undine's shoulder and her face grew serious.

"Perhaps it is best if we don't speak of such things," she whispered softly. "This knight hails from the capital where they have less than charitable opinions on spirits and wild magic. He has a very pious air about him and may not take well to talk of such things as listening to the wind."

Undine opened her mouth to protest, but the worried look on her mother's face gave her pause. She hunched her shoulders and made a small nod.

"Very good," her mother said. "After the candles, would you please put on a pot of tea for our guest?"

Undine nodded again and followed her mother to the dining room.

She stopped short at the sight of the knight sitting in one of the chairs, his leg propped up as he removed a dented greave. In all the stories she had ever heard, the knight in shining armor was always some radiant, flawless. She supposed it was difficult to maintain resplendence while adventuring, but this particular individual seemed so ordinary, so human. His short blond hair was mussed and sweaty and dirt streaked his face amidst a few scratches. If not for the light armor, half of which lay on the floor next to him, she might have mistaken him for one of the travelers that occasionally passed through the town, although a little worse for wear then most.

He was staring at her.

She ducked her head and hurried to the fireplace to light a piece of kindling for the fires.

"Oh, this is my daughter, Undine," her mother said, noticing his attention on her. "Undine, don't be rude."

Undine wavered before bobbing a quick curtsy to the knight.

"Oh, I must apologize," he said with a bright resonant voice. "I was so taken by the vision of her beauty that I forgot my manners. I am Sir Huldbrand, knight errant in the service of the duke."

He moved to get up, but winced as he shifted his leg.

"You must pardon my lack of decorum," he said with a stiff half bow from the chair. "I'm afraid my injury prevents me a proper introduction."

She couldn't say exactly what, but something about him rankled Undine.

Her thoughts were put on pause as he removed the greave and rolled up his pant leg to reveal a black and red bruise on his shin.

"Oh!" Undine gasped.

"Oh, she speaks!" he said in delight. "Fear not, sweet maiden. It looks far worse than it truly is."

Undine felt her face heat from embarrassment that he apparently mistook for demurity.

Mercifully, her father entered the house at that moment, distracting Huldbrand from further commentary. 

"Gods above," her father exclaimed as he shook off his clothes. "This is no natural storm."

Undine felt a prickle of apprehension an glanced out the window to the pounding rain. The storm indeed defied expectation in its ferocity, as if the sea and sky themselves were intent on wiping them from the land.

"All the more reason to be grateful for your hospitality," Huldbrand replied. "I would hate to be trapped out in this with my leg as it is."

Undine perked up at that. As off-putting as this visitor was, she couldn't resist a good story. If his adventures were half as exciting as those of knights in fairy tales, she wanted to hear them.

"How did you come to be injured?" Undine demanded.

"Undine!" her mother chided. "I told you not to be rude."

"No, I would like to hear his tale as well," her father said as he poured a measure of liquor for himself and the knight.

Her mother threw up her hands in exasperation and busied herself once more with preparation of their supper.

Her father offered a glass to Huldbrand who smiled jovially as he took it. He took a sip and nodded appreciatively as he contemplated it.

"It is a fantastical tale," he said finally. "I would not believe it myself had I not beheld the sights with my own eyes."

Undine, now rapt, sank onto a stool and idly picked up one of her father's nets that required mending.

"Eight days ago, I set out from the capital, bound for the darkwood. I was set on a quest to seek out the swamps at its far edge and the treasures guarded by jealous spirits thence."

Undine's father grunted.

"You're many miles north of the swamplands, sir knight. Fortunate for you, maybe. The beasts and serpents there are nothing to sneeze at. They can swallow a man whole if he's not careful."

Huldbrand chuckled with an incandescent grin.

"My good host, I am a knight errant of the realm, I fear neither serpent nor beast. Anyway, I-"

"Why?" Undine interjected.

He turned his grin to her causing her to look away sharply.

"Pardon?"

Undine chewed her lip nervously for a moment before curiosity won out.

"Why were you sent on such a quest?"

"Ah, the fair maiden, Lady Bertalda, foster daughter of the duke bid me in exchange for her favor. We have known each other for many years, she is one of my oldest friends."

This did nothing to address the true meaning of Undine's question, it simply raised so many more as to the nature of his relationship with this girl who would send him on such a dangerous mission. She mentally cataloged those questions for follow up and pressed on with her original line inquiry.

"But, why should you want to steal the treasures of the spirits that dwell in the swamps?"

Huldbrand frowned in surprise.

"Well…" he said slowly, considering his response as if the question had never been posed to him in such straightforward terms. "As pious representatives of civilization, is it not our duty to bring order to the wild places? If wicked beasts and spirits are hoarding treasures, then surely it is our duty to liberate those riches so that those who dwell in the light may enjoy them."

"But why do you assume the spirits wicked?"

At that he laughed, full throated and full of amusement.

With a surge of annoyance, she realized that he had mistaken her genuine bafflement for childlike curiosity. Gods above and below, between her gender and her demeanor, he likely assumed she was just a simple girl from some backwater village on the coast.

He struck her as someone who had the absolute assurance that he was the hero of his own story. The girl who had sent him on his quest either shared that assuredness or found him as rankling as she did and had sent him away to be rid of him.

Undine fell into a sullen silence and set about her work. Whatever tale he had to tell would undoubtedly be colored by his own self-importance. She had heard such tales before, from boastful sailors and fishermen at the tavern. She had very little patience or interest for such tales.

She collected stories like her treasures, valuing them for the kernels of truths they contained within facets of the fantastical.

"Don't mind her," her father told Huldbrand. "She can be prone to moods. Has been ever since she washed up on our doorstep."

"Ah," Huldbrand replied. "So she is not yours then? I did not want to presume."

"Not by blood," her mother interjected. "But she's ours all the same."

She paused to press a kiss to the top of Undine's head, earning a small smile as Undine picked at the net.

"We had a daughter," her father explained. "Same age as Undine or nearabouts. When she was a babe, not even a year old, we were out on the water when a sudden squall whipped up out of nowhere. Never seen the sea so violent, though today might match it…"

He took a breath and wiped at his eyes.

"Our little girl was swept away by the sea that day."

His wife placed a hand on his shoulder, which he grasped.

"It was such terrible grief," he continued. "Still is, I suppose. But, the world works in strange ways and the very next morning, we were awoken by the scream of a babe. We rushed to the door daring to hope, but alas it wasn't our little girl. Someone, we know not who, left little Undine on our doorstep. She was swaddled in seal fur and borne in a basket woven from driftwood and seaweed. Oddest thing I've ever laid my eyes on. Well, we knew she couldn't fill the holes in our hearts, but we couldn't just leave the poor thing out on her own, so we raised her as our own."

Huldbrand raised his glass.

"My condolences on your loss," he said. "And you are to be commended for your charity towards little Undine."

"Ah," her father replied. "I asked for your tale and here I am telling ours. I suppose it must be this storm, so much like the one that took our child from us. Dredging up painful memories… please, if you would, indulge an old man with the tale of your adventure."

"Well," Huldbrand replied solemnly. "I can't guarantee that my tale will lift the mood, I beheld most frightful sights. I set out from the capital…"

The knight launched into his tale, which was admittedly almost too fantastical to be believed had he not related it with such earnestness. She paid half a mind as he spoke of a ghostly figure, sometimes a man, sometimes a great boar, sometimes a roiling and frothing brook that hounded him on his journey through the forest.

Truthfully, she wanted to listen, but in her lapse into sullen silence and her father's recounting of her discovery, she became aware of a new sensation. It was a low rumble that reverberated in the core of her. Neither her parents nor their guest seemed to notice, and it wasn't so much a noise as a feeling in her chest. It minded her of her ability to read the wind, but magnified a hundredfold, consuming her attention until she could barely perceive anything else. It seemed as if the storm itself were calling to her relentlessly, a howling furry that wanted to shake apart the fabric of her being.

This storm was alive and it was seeking her.

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

another hc // if nobody died and hawkins wasn't destroyed the whole hellfire club would try to teach el to play d'n'd but it's too complicated for her or not really her thing but she would listen to their campaigns whenever she finds time for it. after all, the stories are always super exciting and she enjoys watching mike when he's in his nerdy world.

and eddie would definitely call her lady el or something like that.

—

el doesn't have to be a cheerleader right away, but chrissy would definitely teach her some moves. it would be very fun for her and help her figure out what else she could like to do.

she loves chrissy. she's so incredibly nice and so much better than the cheerleaders in california. el even shares her eggos with her, which she rarely does.

and if jason even looks in chrissy's direction, he'll accidentally trip over his own feet and end up with his face in his tray full of food.

🧸💞

First of all, so sorry I took a little longer to reply to this one!! I haven't been on tumblr much these last few days, lmao. Can't guarantee I'll be back to my regular time basis for awhile, a lot going on right now, but I'll still reply to any asks anyone sends me within a week or less!!!

Now, anyways

HELL YES

Now all I can imagine is Chrissy and El being honorary Hellfire Club members who kinda just observe (and occasionally interact when asked to for certain things like acting something out or giving advice, lmao) and also just hanging out together the whole time and Chrissy brings out a little lunchbox of snacks (she is 100% the mom friend and you can't tell me otherwise), and that includes some eggos and she'll put the box in between her and El so that they can share them

And then whenever everyone's first arriving, when Mike and El come through the door, Eddie dramatically bows and greets them as "Sir Wheeler, Lady El, I welcome thee" (He probably says the "I welcome thee" or something similar to everyone almost everytime they get together for the club, tbh, lmao) and after the first few times, El will start leaning into it and like curtseying everytime Eddie greets her that way and her and Eddie will nod their heads at each other and Mike follows along because El does and nods his head to Eddie the same way

And Eddie totally loves El, like

El becomes one of Eddie's favorite children along with Dustin, I totally stand by that, man

Like he'll definitely try to involve El a lot in certain random aspects of the campaign that don't involve her actually playing

And he's definitely more than once done something like, "[Insert Mike's D&D Name/Title] turns the corner and suddenly encounters a fair maiden! *Gestures for El to come over to the table and stand in front of Mike, which she beams and does so excitedly because Eddie already prepared her for this* From the moment he sees her, he cannot look away, her beauty putting him in a state of absolute awe! *Mike just standing there, totally not knowing this was going to happen, definitely in awe (because he's filled with awe and wonder anytime El interacts or shows any interest in his favorite game) and suddenly turning red at Eddie's commentary because it's definitely accurate* The woman leans in for a kiss and [Mike's name/title] forgets himself and his journey momentarily, leaning forward to join her, unable to resist. *El leans forward and happily kisses Mike, Mike inevitably following right along with Eddie's commentary and kissing El back but also VERY red and trying to pay attention to what Eddie's saying at the same time* But SUDDENLY, the fair maiden's lips turn up into a wicked smirk as she reaches behind her back and pulls out a dagger, stabbing it directly into [Mike's name/title]'s stomach!! *El acting out the stabbing, trying her best to keep from giggling as Mike pulls away and acts out being stabbed, actually looking low-key wounded and offended at the turn of events* She laughs evilly as she turns and leaves him on the ground to bleed out, never to be seen again!!! *Mike now dramatically falling to the ground, El's evil laugh coming out more like a giggle as she walks away, the rest of the group watching the whole scene, enthralled, and Eddie smirking proudly to himself about the whole thing*" and afterwards, Mike obviously ends up healed by someone (most likely, depending on the campaign and how far along in it they are) and then El and Chrissy start whispering and giggling about it and Mike keeps looking over every once in awhile with this sweet little confused face that's also still filled with awe because El reasons, lmao

I don't know, man, as you can clearly see, I absolutely LOVE this headcanon, lmao

Thank you so much for sharing it!!!! It will forever be in my head as the what-could've-been 😌😌😌 It's greatly appreciated!!!! Hope you're having a great day/night!!!! 💜💜💜

[themoonandvenuslovechild]

i just want to say that there is a small list of people responsible for my activity on tumblr and i would like everyone to stop and appreciate them because they’re all amazing authors or they give amazing suggestions, so here they are:

@waspswidows this is hope, hope is amazing. their fanfics are amazing, and they’re genuinely such a sweet person.

@greenorangevioletgrass this is ava. i stalk their blog every day bc the people in their asks are just as horny as me and their replies are amazing

@wannabevampire this is allie. allie has amazing mini fics and little thoughts about what people send to their asks, genuinely so amazing at writing, lots of good druig content here for the druig stans

@iamburdened this is alli. they are the person responsible for a decent amount of fics that i’ve written and that are being written

@lovegoods-things my bae. first person to give me drukkari inspo, absolutely love her sm she’s so sweet and have so many good ideas

@dragon-baron amazing fanfics, first drukkari fanfic i reread, genuinely just amazing at what they do.

@maiden-of-asgard best loki fanfics i have ever read in my entire life. i’m pretty sure i’ve read all of their work like 70 times and i’m currently reading frostbite to a friend of mine as like a bedtime story kinda situation

last but not least

@clints-lucky-arrow FUCKING AMAZING DRUIG FANFICS IVE READ THEM SO MANY TIMES ITS RIDICULOUS

this concludes my list of amazing people that you should follow and support. thank all of you and all the other fanfic authors for spending time to make people happy <3

[misterewrites]

Secret Agent Bard (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! E here with a new chapter of the underground! Woo! I hope you are all doing good and staying safe.

So I actually have more to say today! That's a trip. I’ll have an author’s note under the line. 

So that's it for now. Stay safe, take care of you and your loved ones, stay out of trouble, wash your hands, wear your mask, get vaccinated if you can and push to release the vaccine world wide cuz we're all in this together. Have a great week and thanks for reading. I appreciate it and feel free to tell your friends, reblog, drop likes and feedback i love it all. Bye for now and enjoy!

If you want an easier place to read the story cuz tumblr sucks sometimes here’s a link to the chapter https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/79541746

The First Chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/68094967

and since you made it this far here’s a link to all my stories!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Byeeeeee!

Author’s note:  Today’s work will be a little different as there will be singing. The chapter with the bard is gonna have singing? Go figure haha So if you see a sentence in Italics, that means someone is singing. Bold and italics represents various people singing as a group. The song in question is called twiddles. There's different versions of it but the one I chose is from the misbehavin maidens. Great group but all their work ranges from innuendos to straight up not safe for work so listen at your peril. I have now completed my responsible adult duties haha. here’s a link to the chosen song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iS1-_fKF5ug

Summary: Oliver has quite the task ahead of him as the group splits to achieve their goals. Leading Sel and Flora, the young bard will have to think quick on his feet to ensure this mission is a success. Luckily he's an old hand at this. Ironically the one person who could distract him may make a surprise appearance tonight.

-----

Oliver stood quietly, arms crossed and his mind thoughtful as the group prepared to go their separate ways. While ideally nothing would go wrong, that was a childish belief: Every person and robotic being here knew safety was not guaranteed in their line of work.

Even the old man knew the risks.

Oliver hated doing nothing. He thrived when he was busy, focused on whatever task required his attention whether it be being a better bard or upholding the Choir’s values. Too many ghosts and regrets lingered on the edges of his mind and he found the best solution was to simply keep occupied.

But that was his coping mechanism, not everyone else. He knew better than to rush his team: The party would last at least another few hours and beside the goal of getting Sel to the third floor, there was nothing else to do. No information to gather, nothing to review. Let them have their moment, it was good for morale.

Terri and Flora were sickeningly adorable: Hands clasped tightly with Terri tearfully asking her girlfriend to not poison everyone. Flora gave a halfhearted promise while as they shared a tender kiss. Terri noticed her less than enthused tone but refused to press the matter further.

Tyrell stood awkwardly to the side, his face twisted in a strange mixture of sick and excited. He fidgeted with something in his pocket, seeking comfort from whatever lay within. Given the shape of the bulge and size, Oliver guessed it was a knife.

Sel stood nearby, motionless in the shadows of the alley. They hadn’t moved in some time though he suspected the automaton was simply waiting for the next phase of the plan.

“Alright” Oliver spoke up, his voice firm yet gentle “Times up. You have your assignments?”

Uneven murmuring responded.

“Let’s go.”

Oliver, Sel and Flora went down one end of the alley, Terri and Tyrell disappearing in the opposite direction.

-----

It didn’t take long for the trio to find the main streets of the Merchant Ward and make their way towards the Brambleoak banking office. The crowds weren’t as thick as they had been during the day but Oliver knew everyone out and about did so with a purpose.

“Bard.” Flora asked without warning, breaking the awkward silence “Question.”

“Answer.” Oliver cheekily replied.

Flora glared.

Oliver coughed “Yes?”

“You are a First Chair Soprano correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yet you are so young. How did you manage that? I thought First Chair ranks were only reserved for experienced or particularly skilled members. You don’t seem to be very magically powerful.”

Oliver paused for a moment, trying to best answer the question.

In a way Flora was correct in her assessment: He wasn’t particularly powerful as a spellcasting bard. Unlike Flora who clearly committed herself fully to nature and thus druidic magic, Oliver had only recently thrown himself into the magical arts.

Unless you were a wizard who studied the secrets of the universe with a very intimate and well versed knowledge of magic, most spellcasters drew their power from sources of existence: Clerics from their gods, Druids from nature, Warlocks from something beyond mortal existence yet not quite a deity, sorcerers because a family member fucked around with pure incomprehensible concepts. Magic was the fabric of the universe and the more you threw yourself into a source of power, the more the source threw itself into you, guiding your hand and your spells.

Of course each, wizards exempt, were limited in their spellcasting options. Clerics were powerful holy/unholy practitioners but couldn’t command plant life to save their lives. Druids were in tune with nature and the weather and all the lovely flora and fauna but ask them to superimpose an image onto something and they’d give you a dumbfounded look. Warlocks kinda just do whatever their sugar patrons felt like lending.

Magic bards drew their power from the arts: Drawing, singing, poetry, even witty and funny satire. Bards were in tune with life, with existence. Art could heal, could hurt, could make you feel happy and sad. It could make you feel like a whole new person or perhaps take you to a time and place you’d forgotten. Bards sung the song of life and Oliver was no exception.

However, Oliver still wasn’t sure what he could do exactly. His magical muscle was average on a good day and he could only cast a few spells before needing a good night’s rest. The basic healing spells and comprehension language he cast earlier today had taken a good chunk of his energy but he relied more on his wit than raw magical strength. He discovered creative and useful ways to cast his spells like amplifying dissonance noises to distract and disorient foes or temporarily place another person’s image over himself. Magic was as much about creativity as it was skill, pushing the limits of what you can do with your particular brand of spells.

“I’m clever.” Oliver answered honestly “The whole magic of the arts is new to me but I’ve been in the Choir for a long time now. I used to be Tenor like Sel here but more fast talking than breaking and entering. I guess they carried over my old position into my new one.”

Flora nodded, satisfied “That answers much. How long have you been a bard?”

“Few years now.” Oliver checked the street sign to ensure they were on the right path “The magic part is going on 3 years.”

“I see.” Flora scratched her chin “I’ve been a druid my whole life so it is a strange concept to be so new to the spellcasting arts yet hold such a high rank.”

Oliver gave a casual shrug “Not sure what you want me to say. We’re here by the way.”

The bank looked as unkempt as Oliver had remembered: Faded, peeling green paint with gaudy gray stone pillars. Two guards in green uniforms stood in front of the massive reddish brown doors that led into the bank.

“Lea’s mercenaries.” Sel pointed out “They are not letting anyone in.”

“Correction.” Oliver brushed off nonexistent dirt from his washed-out outfit “They’re not letting nobodies in. Luckily tonight we’re somebodies. Follow my lead.”

Oliver let out a tense breathe before strolling forward, his mannerism cocky yet unsteady. He reached the top of the steps when two sharp looking blades reached out to stop him.

“Halt” The elvish woman spoke with a hint of irritation “You lost?”

“Not at all!” Oliver beamed with a smile that was too wide to be natural “I’m here for the party. There is a party inside no?”

“No” The human man spat out.

Oliver gave a forgetful grin “Oh? I could’ve sworn Brambleoak was having some sort of charity event tonight. I’d show you my invite but I think I misplaced it.”

The elvish woman sneered “Right. How convenient for you having lost your special one of a kind invite.”

“Pfft.” Oliver scoffed “Special one of a kind invite? Reiner hands them out like candy. Probably find one in a gutter nearby.”

The guards shared an unspoken understanding with one another.

“Well.” The human began “Let’s pretend that is true.”

“It is but go on.”

The human’s eyes narrowed “Why should we let you in? You dress rather poorly for someone claiming to be in Reiner’s usual circles.”

Oliver let out an exaggerated gasp as he puffed out his chest “Do you know who I am?”

“Umm no.”

Oliver growled unhappily, his fist clenched tightly within his pocket “I am rich! I AM POWERFUL! AND I DEMAND ACCESS!”

As quick as lightning, Oliver flung a handful of gold coins towards the pair. The two reeled back in surprised as the money clanked onto the smooth marble floor. A moment hardly passed before the guards were shoving the loose coins into their tunic pockets like hungry dogs. They straightened up, eyes alive with greed.

“Of course sir” The elvish woman bowed her head in apologize “Deeply sorry for that.”

“Please go ahead.”

Oliver gave a self satisfied nod before moving past the pair only to stop as he heard the sounds of swords scraping each other. He turned backwards to see the guards barring access to Flora and Sel.

Flora looked back and forth between the guards, her eyes calculating and cold. Sel stood still but clearly at the ready for any sort of trouble.

“They’re with me.”

The Elvish woman shook her head “We said we’d let you in. These two? Definitely not Reiner’s usual prey.”

“They aren’t” Oliver admitted “But I need them.”

The human turned to him, suspicion in his eyes “Why?”

“She…” Oliver pointed lazily towards Flora “Is my street doctor.”

“Street doctor? As in….?”

Oliver gave a cheery wink “The fun kind.” And for give measure, he added a weak shiver to his act “Ugggggh I feel cold, are you cold? It’s cold.”

Before anyone could say anything, Oliver began shaking. He rubbed his hands for ‘warmth’ while swaying back and forth.

“Uh oh.” Flora spoke dully, pushing past the guards and holding Oliver steady “He’s crashing. I need to give him his umm medicine.”

“Medicine?” Oliver repeated, his voice soft yet manic “Yes medicine. I need it. I NEED IT!”

Folks began to turn their way, the guards shifting uncomfortably under the sudden attention they were receiving.

“And this one?” The Elvish woman gestured to Sel.

Oliver began to rock back and forth, his voice a harsh whisper. “Guard. Guard. Guard guard guard guard.”

The human threw up his hands in defeat “Bah! Get him in there and fixed! Any trouble and I’ll personally come over to beat your asses.”

“Thank you sir.” Flora murmured through gritted teeth. She guided Oliver and Sel through the doors and into the party within.

Flora sighed as Sel cracked the tension out of their fingers. Oliver straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow.

True to his expectations, the bank had been altered to be suitable for a charity event: Torches lined the walls, casting the building into a bright light. The desks normally found on the floor were gone as to allow a more spacious setting. Oliver counted a handful of guards scattered about, wandering about for any sign of trouble. All except for the lone guard beyond the empty elevated platform who stood in front of the stairway to the upper floors.

“What now?” Flora asked

“Split up. Sel stay close to the door, Flora and I will figure out a distraction.”

“Sounds good.”

And without another word, Oliver was swallowed whole into the crowd.

-----

It had taken an hour for Oliver to figure out what kind of distraction he would need.

The patrols themselves hadn’t been very difficult to plan for: They would move randomly about, keeping an eye on the party and each other. He counted about 6 of them total and each one of them was easily starstruck. At the sign of any disagreement, they would swarm in groups of three and quickly threaten any troublemakers into compliance. However, upon meeting anyone with even the smallest bit of fame, they would subtly motion to each other and make their way as one to the person in question, hoping for a glance or the chance for an autograph.

So the floor guards were no problem but the one standing watch over the door was much more difficult. Evidently Lea was smart enough to give the most important job to the most responsible of his idiots. The stairway guard or Stairy as Oliver labeled him, would not budge at the sign of any trouble. Loud arguments, agitated party goers, a waiter being tripped (sorry it was for science buddy). None of these would pull him from his post. Celebrities wouldn’t either. Any time his buddies motioned to a famous person, he would shrug his shoulders and stay put.

Oliver was beginning to wonder if Flora needed to poison Stairy until he noticed something about half way into his observations: Stairy was a music lover. Specifically a cute girl music lover.

His gaze would wander every time he caught sight of a pretty girl who happened to be too close to him. Oliver wasn’t sure at first so he decided to test his theory. With his pocket change lessened, Oliver noticed how often a girl would catch Stairy’s eye. His attention didn’t shift when they fell in front of him, obviously in distress, or walked slower allowing him to enjoy the view longer but Oliver caught him smiling and tapping his foot when the odd girl would sing. He even staggered away from his door a few steps at a time before catching himself and returning to his post.

So the best distraction would be a girl who could sing and have some level of fame attached to her name.

Oddly specific and Oliver hadn’t the slightest idea how he was going to mange that. He was attempting to solve this puzzle when something caught his ear.

“Get off me you mulched dirt licker!”

That rather unique set of cursing could only mean one thing: Flora.

Oliver turned to where he last spotted her and found the young druid being hassled by a tall man in an elegant uniform.

Oliver noticed the guards were looking about, not yet spotting the commutation but aware something was going on. He needed to act first if he wanted to stop Flora deciding to kill everyone in the room.

The bard quickly slipped into the crowd, darting and weaving between any and everyone he could. He saw Flora slip a small vial into her hand as the man towered over her.

“I jus wanna dance.” the man’s words slurred out of his mouth “A pretty thing like yo shou wanna dance”

Flora’s eyes narrowed angrily “For the last time you dried poop stain, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Flora pulled back her hand, prepared to throw the mysterious vial at the drunk’s face.

“Whoa!” Oliver cried out, tightly grasping onto Flora’s wrist “What seems to be the problem?”

“Nothing I can’t solve on my own.” Flora coldly glanced towards the drunken man.

“One sec.”

Oliver eyed the man carefully, absorbing every little detail he could.

He could see the muscles strain against the fabric of his light green tunic so this man worked in something physically laborious. The sheathed sword on his belt weight seemed to throw him off balance with every step. His gaze was unsteady and Oliver could see his pupils dilating wildly.

So this man was physically fit, armed with a sword in a charity event for the rich people and wearing light green tunic while currently drunk.

“You should leave her alone” Oliver said, sarcasm dipping from each word “You are so not her type.”

“So?” The man hiccupped “What’s the big deal?”

“So she’s got a girlfriend you idiot.” Oliver gestured with his hand “Besides you should go before your boss Lea gets here. I’m betting he won’t be happy one of his undercover mercs is currently drunk on the job. Of course I could always tell your captain what’s going on. That’s him over there right?”

Oliver gestured to the closest guard making his way towards the trio. He didn’t look any different than any guards but Oliver noticed his green was a shade darker than the rest. Lea probably used different hues to signify rank in his mercenaries.

The drunk’s face paled as he fidgeted nervously. He rose his hands in surrender, eyes darting between the two “Sorry.”

“Any trouble?” The captain approached, his hand tightly held around the hilt of his blade.

Oliver beaned cheerfully, trying his best to pull attention away from the fuming Flora “Not at all my good sir. This man simply mistook us for someone else, correct?”

The drunk nodded slowly “My bad. Forgive my intrusion.”

The captain gave a cold smirk “Apologizes. Mikey?”

The drunk flinched “Yes sir?”

“A word in private. Now.”

Oliver let out a sigh of relief as the captain dragged Mikey away..

“You should’ve let me poison them.” Flora muttered darkly.

Oliver scratched the back of his neck tiredly “Night’s still young. Still might get your chance if I can’t figure a way past Stairy.”

Flora tilted her head quizzically “Stairy?”

“The asshole at the base of the stairs.” Oliver answered absentmindedly as he spotted a familiar streak of platinum blonde hair among the crowd of strangers “And I just figured it out. Can I trust you not to poison everyone here?”

“You have an hour. I get bored easily” Flora swirled the sickly purple liquid in the vial threateningly.

“You and me both.” Oliver patted her shoulder before chasing down his perfect distraction.

-----

Oliver’s heart began to thunder loudly in his ears, a nervous and uncontrollable energy overtaking his resolve. The mission was important but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see Maria today.

Maria Thoreau was the daughter of a powerful, influential family. The Thoreau’s were more concerned with their standing in high society than any virtuous endeavors and thus each one of their children was trained from birth to excel in their chosen field. Maria’s older brothers were an aspiring politician and merchant respectively.

Maria’s path was to be a well famous singer and patron of the arts. She wanted nothing more than to sing for the people. Unfortunately, her father only saw a chance to further the family’s good name and tied his desire for power with her passion and dream. It was bittersweet really but nothing much could be done about it.

Yet.

Maria knew Oliver as a musical rival who thwarted her group’s attempts at winning local competitions which in turned derailed her father’s plans. So needless to say she was less than thrilled when she caught him making his way over.

“Ollie” she forced a smile while her hazel eyes narrowed, peeved “I’m surprised to see they let you into this exclusive event.”

Oliver gave a cocky shrug “Well your beauty caught my attention and I couldn’t resist trying to figure out a way in.”

Maria’s cheeks burned a pinkish hue.

Maria was the same age as Oliver with short, tastefully cut dark brown hair. A single streak of platinum blonde hair hung off the side of her face, giving her such a cute look. Her clothes were practical tonight since she wasn’t performing: A simple white blouse with a long flowing dark blue skirt that went all the way down to her feet. Her shoes were sensible dark blue flats designed for comfort over style.

Maria coughed into her hand, willing her blush away.

“So.” She cleared her throat “Is this your sad attempt to throw me off my game? You won’t win the next competition. We’ll be dealing with professional judges this time.”

Oliver’s eyes widen in false surprise “There’s a competition here? Fancy that. I hadn’t been made aware of that but since we’re both in town, why not have a round two?”

“Oliver….”

“I mean” Oliver went on, pretending not have heard “You are a much better singer solo than with those harpies you’re forced to keep around.”

Maria glanced to the side timidly “Don’t be absurd, the Melodic Maidens are a perfect, well oiled machine.”

Oliver scoffed dismissively “I suppose they’re nearby, listening in. Hardly leave you alone, don’t they?”

Maria opened her mouth to respond when a shrilly voice cut in.

“What do you know you two bit hack? How much did you bribe the judges last time?!”

Oliver gave a strained smile as the rest of the ladies forced their way into view.

“Lilly, Filly, Sally. You suck.”

The triplets snarled in unison, openly glaring at the bard.

Lilly, Filly and Sally were Maria’s chains: They were as much there to further her career as they were to report back to daddy to ensure the errant daughter stayed on course.

As triplets, they all shared the same features: Three pairs of dull green eyes and long messy black hair. Even their clothing were the same with each wearing a strapless dress that showed way too much skin and skirts that were way too short. The only reason Oliver could tell them apart was due to their preferred colors: Lilly in a shade of pink that was bright for her skin tone, Filly with a pale ugly yellow and Sally in seas of dark red.

The trio surrounded Maria, their arms embracing her in an uncomfortable hug. Maria bit her lip, trying to hide her uneasy.

“Still wearing that tacky outfit huh Ollie?” Lilly eyed his faded clothing distastefully.

Sally let out an unfriendly laugh “Ollie always looks like trash. Not even prize money could buy an ounce of class.”

“Actually” Oliver brushed his shoulder dismissively “Class is cheap. No amount of money could buy an ounce of character. You can blow hot air at me all you want but nothing in this world could ever change the fact that the three of you are bitches.”

The trio clicked their tongues disappointingly, their normally plain faces twisted into unflattering visages of rage while they screamed as one.

“HOW DARE YOU INSULT US?!”

“YOU ARE SUCH A POOR TACTLESS MAN!”

“YOU FUCKER!”

Oliver casually waved his hand “All bark and no bite. I’m supposed believe you’ve gotten any better in two months? Last time I checked I won the last competition.”

“OH YEAH?!” The triplets yelled, furious.

Maria threw a suspicious glance Oliver’s way “Girls, I don’t think…”

“Come on Maria, we don’t want to have to tell daddy you backed down from a challenge.”

A shiver ran down her spine, the fight draining out of her face. Oliver felt a tinge of guilt but said nothing as the girls took their positions.

Maria paused for a moment, her breathing slow and calm. The murmur of the crowds grew louder and louder upon the recognition that the ladies nearby were the Melodic Maidens.

Maria pivoted on her heels, a bright warm smile gracing her lips. Oliver could feel his heart skip a beat at the sound of her soft, airy voice beginning to sing

“Oh you hear a lot of stories about the sailors and their sport” Maria gave a playful wink his way. His cheeks burned brightly at her playful banter.

“About how every sailor has a girl in every port”

Maria twirled, her steps mischievous and alluring as her dark blue dress chased after her. She gracefully held two fingers aloft for everything to see, her smirk cocky and assured.

“but if you added two and two you’d figure out right quick”

Maria backed up as the triplets step forward to join her, the group made whole and ready for the chorus.

“It’s just because the girls all have a lad on every ship”

Maria turned to throw a sultry look towards her rival bard but instead of finding a dumbstruck Oliver, she found a smiling one. His gaze was gentle and loving as if he was seeing utterly beautiful. A small smile was tugging at his cheeks. Maria could feel her heart thunder in her ears as, without warning, Oliver gave a thumbs up and mouthed an appreciative “Thanks” before ducking into the growing crowd.

“And it’s twiddley idle idle idle, twiddley idle aye.”

What was once a spattering of folks formed into a massive gathering. Most of the party goers and guards had come over to catch the free show the girls inadvertently given and thus all focus shifted onto them. What was an attempt to show up Oliver ended up being a very unnecessary showcase.

“It’s often times a man will leave you broken with dismay”

Boy was Maria feeling that dismay right now.

-----

Oliver’s plan worked: Stairy hadn’t been to resist the siren call of a beautiful woman and her singing. Luckily the harpies hadn’t ruined it with their imperfect pitches. Stairy hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Sel slipped in behind and began working at the door. It took a moment but one blink later and the automaton vanished out of sight.

Oliver let out a sigh when a hand gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Hello sir.” A guff, low voice in a less than friendly voice “Might I have a word? You’ve been acting rather strange all party long.”

Well fuck.

[pengiesama]

A Ring for a Ring, a Sweet for the Sweet (Fic, TGCF, HC/XL)

Title: A Ring for a Ring, a Sweet for the Sweet Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Pairing: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian

Summary:

Just as Hua Cheng once gave him a ring to pledge him his life, Xie Lian gives Hua Cheng a ring to pledge him his hole.

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

--

Xie Lian was going into this birthday prepared. He had a plan in his head, a wish in his heart, and many thoughts cursing his dick.

--

This plan, this wish, this curse; it all started one fateful morning about a month ago. You see, the married life came with innumerable pleasures, and one of these was the comfort of a regular morning routine. Summarized, and truncated for length, it went a little like this:

 Step 1: Wake up.

Step 2, Scenario A: San Lang pretending to be asleep, and refusing to break character until Xie Lian provided anywhere between seven to ten morning kisses.

Step 2, Scenario B: San Lang already awake, and distributing morning kisses to Xie Lian’s lips, neck, cock, and other such body parts that would benefit from the application of his tongue.

Step 3: The irrepressible cosmic consequence of either scenario outlined above.

Step 4, Scenario A: San Lang big spoon.

Step 4, Scenario B: Xie Lian big spoon.

Step 5: Helping each other wash, dress, and get ready for the day.

 With Step 1 through Step 4, Scenario B completed, Xie Lian was helping his husband get ready before he had to scurry off to do a few errands. Check on the vegetable garden at the shrine, draw up a few new charms, pop over to the village’s market to see if there were any deals on, put an end to the demon who’d taken up residence in the hills two towns over and who was demanding maiden sacrifices…Xie Lian of course would answer the cries of those in need, but he did wonder, at times, why people were calling upon the God of Scrap-Collecting to slay evil (or at least rough up evil, followed by a stern talking-to). Shouldn’t they be calling upon him for blessings in happening upon excellent and thrifty finds? Ah, well. Always in service of the people.

The lacquered black comb sank thickly into Hua Cheng’s hair, and slid through like a ship through water. Silver chimed with the motions of Xie Lian’s arm. Lately, he’d taken to warming up Hua Cheng’s silver accessories before helping his husband put them on…underneath his sleeping robe, against his bare skin, he was currently sporting one of Hua Cheng’s heavy necklaces and silver belts. Xie Lian never liked the initial cold shock of jewelry against his skin when he was young; brief as the feeling was before his body heat warmed the metal, it was a petty annoyance he always dreaded each morning while still cranky and disoriented from sleep. His poor San Lang had no such respite, with his body’s ghostly chill. Thus, Xie Lian wanted to save his husband such an unpleasantness before a long day of managing his city.

There was, of course, the minor matter that Hua Cheng tended to wear quite a lot of accessories. (And he seemed to only be expanding this tendency after Xie Lian took up the warming habit.) After the necklace and belt were taken care of, he still needed to warm up the bracelets and rings (unthinkable to wear those while tending to San Lang’s beautiful hair), then the earrings and hair accessories, and then the vambraces; these were tricky, and required one-on-one attention. The silver butterflies nesting within the vambraces got excited very easily when Xie Lian touched their home, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d have an armful of butterflies and no vambrace to warm up.

Xie Lian could very easily spend the whole day at this, though his schedule didn’t allow it. Distracted by the movement of the comb through Hua Cheng’s hair, distracted by the low sounds of pleasure Hua Cheng made when Xie Lian absently ran his fingers through the strands, Xie Lian reached out to fumble for one of the many nearby jewelry boxes. Rings, San Lang did need rings to wear with his choice of ensemble today…

Xie Lian’s questing hand came back with a ring; that it was a ring was no question. But…Xie Lian’s brow furrowed as he examined it, turning it this way and that, the silver glinting in the bedroom light. Beautiful, with delicate engravings of blooming flowers across its surface, the quality silver thick and heavy in his palm. But this ring was much too large for his San Lang’s elegant, slender fingers, was it not? Though Xie Lian’s hands were smaller, they weren’t that much smaller, and he could fit both his thumbs inside it easily…

“Gege,” Hua Cheng purred, allowing his hair to fall over his shoulder in an alluring and altogether deliberate manner. “Did you find something you’d particularly like to see me in today?”

Hua Cheng’s gaze fell on the ring that Xie Lian was examining, and his confident, sly expression dropped all at once. His hand twitched, then fisted in his robes; as if he wanted to snatch away the ring but didn’t dare do so. Xie Lian blinked, confused.

“Is this a ring that San Lang wears while in a different skin?” Xie Lian asked. “It’s lovely, but seems much too big for San Lang’s…fing…er…”

Xie Lian trailed off, and the truth of the matter took root in his mind as his cheeks began to burn with a familiar heat. And oh, did those roots find eager and fertile soil.

Now, Xie Lian was inexperienced in bedroom matters, this much was true. But he was not stupid, and he also knew what his husband’s dick looked like at this point. This ring was indeed too large for Hua Cheng’s slender and elegant fingers. But it was just the right size to fit around the base of Hua Cheng’s thick, heavy cock.

“Your Highness,” Hua Cheng croaked. “This one apologizes for leaving such an item in—”

“This is a cock ring,” Xie Lian murmured, as if in a trance state, approaching a level of enlightenment not yet seen.

Hua Cheng’s physical form briefly flickered; hearing His Highness say such words so bluntly, with such an irresistibly flushed face, was very much like being struck by a divine force, staggering in its power. He took a deep breath to regain control of himself, and nodded.

“Yes,” Hua Cheng admitted. “This one is much ashamed to not be able to please His Highness as he deserves, on some nights. I crafted such a crude instrument in hopes that it would help with control, but it still is not up to the task, nor is it worthy of the honor of being used in His Highness’ bed…”

Xie Lian was brought back to reality long enough to refute such a self-abasing statement.

“San Lang always pleases me!” Xie Lian stated firmly. It wasn’t always about lasting for hours! It was about both of them enjoying the experience! First off, his San Lang lasted a perfect amount of time; secondly, even when he did come too fast, it just meant that Xie Lian had that much more come in him, and one of Xie Lian’s primary goals in his immortal life now was to be filled with as much of Hua Cheng’s come as physically possible. And if Xie Lian had to wait hours each time before Hua Cheng would finally come inside…

…but perhaps it was about the challenge. This was something a (formerly) martial god could understand. This was something that could overcome Xie Lian’s shyness, could reach deep within him and seize him by the heart and make him rise to the occasion. The buildup of his husband’s frustration and need, the challenge of overcoming the restriction of the ring, of riding Hua Cheng and filling him with so much pleasure that he would burst forth and break through – just as Hua Cheng had once done to free him from the bonds of his cursed shackles. (But like, with less dying afterwards. And with waaaaaay more come filling up Xie Lian’s insides.) Yes. Yes, this was a challenge Xie Lian was ready to help his San Lang face. They would do it together.

“I’m going to borrow this,” Xie Lian said. “Is that okay?”

“…as it pleases His Highness,” Hua Cheng replied, with no little confusion.

He’d find out soon enough.

--

Xie Lian worked tirelessly, during every free moment, to perfect this most important of spiritual relics: the Incorruptible Chastity Cock Ring. Although last year’s birthday present proved that his sewing skills left something to be desired (and his dear, sweet husband still insisted on wearing that ridiculous belt any chance he got), his metalworking skills, again, proved much more polished. Polished enough to make this ring even more of a sight to behold.

He’d amassed enough followers, and enough donations, to permit him to spend on sourcing quality metal for the project – he of course would not dip into Hua Cheng’s own art supplies, nor his purse. Though both were open to him at all times, that was hardly the spirit meant for a birthday gift! And thus, with silver that was not dug up out of his own grave this time, he’d set to work.

The expertly engraved ring now sported four fine silver chains, from which many chiming seed-shaped silver beads dangled. These silver chains were meant to drape alluringly across Hua Cheng’s muscular thighs and lean hips, and chime with every movement. The chains could be attached to any of Hua Cheng’s silver belts, which Xie Lian considered a very clever foresight on his own behalf. It would be very convenient, this way. (Though it would, of course, mean that a bit of warming up would be needed before he could dress San Lang for the occasion.)

The day of Hua Cheng’s birthday came, and the rush of adrenaline that was warding off Xie Lian’s shyness was beginning to wear off. What was he doing, presenting his husband with such a gift!? My darling, my one and only, my San Lang, here’s a cock ring that you made yourself because you come too fast in bed. Happy birthday! But Xie Lian tried to remember the goal here, the challenge, the pursuit of excellence. Those who ascended were ones who were capable of seeing beyond the limits of what was thought impossible. And Xie Lian so loved dressing Hua Cheng up before a hard day of work.

The moment the midnight hour struck, Ghost City was bright with cheers and fireworks. When Hua Cheng next stepped out of his residence, he would be greeted with a thousand congratulations and well-wishes: Lord Chengzhu, happy birthday!

Great Lord Mayor, happy eight-hundred-twenty-third! If’n I could count that high, I’d lop off the hands of eight hunn’erd twenny third sinners and deck these streets with ‘em!

What a waste of hands! Ya know you can fry those up, doncha!? Or sell them to tourists!

And an occasion such as this calls fer decadence! Like scattering hands all over the streets!! But, for now, Xie Lian had Hua Cheng all to himself.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian whispered into his ear, before kissing it. “Happy birthday. Would you like to open your present?”

Such an offer was a surefire way to get Hua Cheng to stop pretending to be asleep. In an instant, Xie Lian was tackled onto his back on the bed, and pinned in place by the press of Hua Cheng’s lean body and the insistent lips against his own.

“Gege is too kind,” Hua Cheng sighed between kisses. “Too generous. For days I’ve been thinking of nothing but the birthday dinner you promised me, and now gege is telling me that he’s got more gifts up his sleeves?”

Seizing upon the opportunity provided by the wording, Hua Cheng’s greedy hands snuck up the sleeves of Xie Lian’s sleeping robes, squeezing and groping at his arms as he went. The right idea, but the wrong direction…

“It’s…um…” Xie Lian trailed off, his cheeks flaring red. He had a planned script for this. Something about a ring for a ring, sweets for the sweet. The lines were lost to him now. But the intent certainly was not.

Slowly, shyly, Xie Lian slid a hand down the front of his own robes. Hua Cheng’s eye followed the movement raptly, and his touch grew heavier on Xie Lian’s bicep. Taking a moment to steel his courage, Xie Lian ran his fingers along the tie of his robe once, twice, before tugging at it to loosen it and let his robes slip open.

“I wanted to make sure it was warm enough for San Lang to wear comfortably,” Xie Lian explained softly.

Silver glinted through the part of his robe. One of Hua Cheng’s silver belts hung around Xie Lian’s hips, flush against his bare skin. Chiming silver chains dangled from it, leading the eye downward to where they joined at that thick, heavy engraved silver ring. It really was much too big for one’s finger, and still a bit too big for Xie Lian’s own cock. He feared it looked a bit silly – even half-hard as he was, it was clear that there was no way he’d fill it out. Of course, Hua Cheng would have no trouble.

Hua Cheng stared openly, blatantly; hungrily and open-mouthed. His grip on Xie Lian’s bicep was bruising.

“…Your Highness,” he eventually managed to say. His voice was low and raw enough to send a shiver through Xie Lian’s limbs, to make those silver beads chime with the motion of his bare legs sliding against the silk sheets. “Your graciousness knows no bounds. This humble follower doesn’t deserve such a magnificent gift.”

Xie Lian took Hua Cheng’s face in his hands, cradled his cheeks between his palms. He leaned in to press a kiss between Hua Cheng’s brows.

“My husband,” he murmured against Hua Cheng’s skin, his breath warm. “Deserves many such magnificent things.”

The kiss that followed was deep and slow, and full of a wet heat that took Xie Lian from half-hard to fully rigid. The ring still slid off with ease, though Hua Cheng’s fingers were so careful and gentle and slow in their ministrations to remove it that Xie Lian could have cried (or laughed, really) in frustration. Hua Cheng was equally slow and deliberate while undoing the belt tied around Xie Lian’s waist, taking his time, dipping his fingers underneath the belt while he worked to feel the heat radiating off Xie Lian’s abdominals.

“San Lang,” groaned Xie Lian.

Hua Cheng chuckled weakly, and kissed Xie Lian’s throat in recompense. “Gege’s patience is appreciated. I have to wait for my blood to cool before I can wield his gift.”

Xie Lian blinked, curious. “Oh? Is that how it works? Much ashamed, I’ve not much experience. But that does make sense, considering the intent…”

It was Hua Cheng’s turn to groan, and he punctuated it with a dramatic collapse into the pillows next to Xie Lian’s head.

“Gege is not helping with the blood cooling,” Hua Cheng grumbled, with affection clear in the accusation.

“My sincerest apologies,” Xie Lian replied, not sorry at all.

It took some long, painfully and deliciously slow minutes – drawn out by their refusal to stop kissing for the duration – before Hua Cheng’s cock softened enough to slide the ring on. Xie Lian, too, went slowly, carefully, guided by Hua Cheng’s slightly-trembling fingers and the glide of oil to ease any discomfort. When the work was done, Xie Lian squirmed out from under Hua Cheng to survey his handiwork.

His San Lang looked so lovely. The sheen of the oil on his cock, the glinting silver decorating the thick base and draping artfully across his strong thighs. The delicate chimes looked ticklish against his balls; Xie Lian reached out a hand to brush his knuckles against the velvety soft skin there and was rewarded by a delicious groan and squirm.

Oh, before he forgot…there was indeed one more surprise that Xie Lian had for the birthday boy. When he’d set to work on this precious spiritual tool, he’d added some features...

Xie Lian traced both hands along the silver chains, and they shivered with spiritual energy. Hua Cheng wore a priceless expression of shock on his face for a brief moment as he felt the pulse of energy, but had no further opportunity to react before the cock ring itself pulsed once, twice, thrice, more. It continued to pulse around Hua Cheng’s cock in time with the racing beat of Xie Lian’s heart. With each pulse, Hua Cheng’s hips jerked upward involuntarily; with each jerk, those silver chimes rang melodiously. Hua Cheng’s mouth hung open wordlessly, his eye glazed with pleasure that stole his sight and sense.

Very convenient, indeed. Xie Lian could probably just leave him like this and go about his daily errands, secure in the thought that his husband would be waiting for him in bed at home, desperate for relief after hours of tension that threatened to snap him in two. But that wouldn’t be particularly kind to do to him today. The birthday boy would have his release in due time, with only as much teasing as Xie Lian could bear.

“Did I warm it up well enough for San Lang’s comfort?” Xie Lian asked, stretching himself out along Hua Cheng’s side as he jerked and twitched. He stroked his palm along Hua Cheng’s lovely pectorals, down his stomach. He pressed the back of his hand to the silver belt to test its temperature. Xie Lian hmmed thoughtfully and moved to toy with one of the silver chains. “I suppose it’s still a bit chilly. Will you ever forgive me?”

“H…Hhh-highne…ssss…” Hua Cheng managed to slur out, then let out an animalistic moan as the pulses around his cock grew in intensity. Xie Lian made a comforting noise, and kissed Hua Cheng’s temple soothingly. His poor San Lang. It couldn’t be helped; the cock ring’s pulses were tied to Xie Lian’s heartbeat, and there was no controlling that when he was with Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian decided, there and then, that it was time to test the integrity (and the Incorruptible Chastity) of this spiritual artifact. He’d prepared himself before waking Hua Cheng; he thanked himself profusely for this foresight, as he doubted he had the patience to do it now and could hardly ask Hua Cheng to do all the work today. He already had enough to deal with right now.

Hua Cheng’s hands, previously fisted in the silk bedsheets in a vain attempt at controlling himself, flew to seize Xie Lian’s waist as Xie Lian moved to straddle him. Any protests died in his throat as the tip of his cock pressed into Xie Lian’s entrance, already warm and willing and ready. Xie Lian sighed in relief at the stretch and the fullness, and bounced and wriggled his hips until Hua Cheng’s cock was in him fully. He could feel the slight coolness of the silver ring against the rim of his hole, could feel the pulsations of the ring inside and out. Xie Lian gave a full-body shiver, and almost absentmindedly lifted the crystal ring around his neck up to his lips to kiss. The gesture grounded him, it soothed him, it—

“Your Highness…”

The warning growl of that title came too little, too late. Driven mad by the beat of Xie Lian’s heart and the burning heat of his body, Hua Cheng’s grip on Xie Lian’s waist became completely ungentle. His fingers gripped with bruising force, and he bounced Xie Lian on his cock with harsh, fast motions; endlessly chasing a release that would not come, to the tune of chiming silver chains. He pounded as deep into him as he could reach, and seemed as if he could hardly stand having even an inch of him not inside. It was all Xie Lian could do to hold onto Hua Cheng’s shoulders, to hold himself steady even as his thigh muscles began to burn with the strain, to let Hua Cheng fuck into him and use his body as a tool for his pleasure.

The first time Xie Lian came, it only left him hungry for more. The fifth time left him lying limp and slack, sprawled on his back as Hua Cheng’s cock continued to relentlessly fuck him, in and out, with no signs of stopping or slowing. Xie Lian’s insides ached to be soothed by the rush of Hua Cheng’s come. After the eighth time, with his face now pressed into a pillow and Hua Cheng’s cock still tirelessly pumping his prone body, chimes still jingling as brightly and eagerly as they had at the start, Xie Lian himself began to beg for that as well.

“S-s-sssan Lang…” Xie Lian could hardly get the words out, his tongue felt thick and heavy and useless in his mouth. “S-san Lang, need…need it…”

Hua Cheng moaned against Xie Lian’s neck, and briefly paused in his efforts to cover every inch of it with bite marks and hickies. His mouth moved to Xie Lian’s ear; biting it once before he spoke into it, sounding rich and low and just as wrecked as Xie Lian.

“Anything His Highness needs, anything, anything, I’ll give it – mnnnhh, mmm – oh, Your Highness, Your Highness is so good to me, so good to this San Lang…mmh, feels so perfect inside, does it feel as good for gege? Is he ready to come again for me?”

Xie Lian let out a desperate moan as Hua Cheng expertly adjusted his angle to aim his thrusts against that spot inside of him. He wouldn’t last much longer, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, and he didn’t think he’d be able to stay conscious for round ten. And Hua Cheng still hadn’t come even once inside of him – Xie Lian could endure many hardships, but this was too much, too much!

“San Lang! I want it, I want that!” Xie Lian wailed with the desperation of a dying man. “Ah-ahhhh, I need it, I need you to give it all to me, please, please, won’t you please – ohh! Please, please have mercy, San Lang-gege, please have mercy and fill me up…”

Xie Lian’s heart was racing like a parade drum. He could only imagine the mayhem being wrought upon his husband’s dick by the cock ring’s enchantment. But he trusted his husband – he trusted him to break through, break through with him and see the limits of the highest heavens –

Hua Cheng let out a shout and a shockwave of spiritual energy strong enough to blow back the curtains on the bed, and released into Xie Lian enough come that Xie Lian felt his stomach grow taut with it. He felt his eyes roll back into his head, and let himself pass out midway through his ninth orgasm.

His conscious mind swam back after some time, and he found himself bundled against Hua Cheng’s strong chest. Morning was just breaking outside the window, but today was a day for sleeping in. Xie Lian breathed in his husband’s scent and let himself be lulled back to sleep. He still had to make that birthday dinner today, and needed to regain his strength.

--

“Oh? Did something happen out here?”

While things were stewing, Xie Lian needed to make a quick run to the market to pick up some supplies he’d forgotten. Outside of Paradise Manor, he found Yin Yu with a broom, sweeping a path through the severed hands that had been scattered on the road outside. If Xie Lian were to make a rough estimate, there were approximately eleven hundred sixty-seven of them. There was also a crudely written banner hung in the blossoming trees on the roadside, that read: HAPPAY BARTH DAY LARD CHENGZHU.

“They do try, don’t they?” Xie Lian said to Yin Yu, fondly. “Once I’m back from the market, I’ll help you clean up out here.”

“They do try,” Yin Yu agreed. “And no, no, Your Highness has business to attend to.”

Xie Lian smiled and gave a grateful bow. “Your Highness Yin Yu is welcome to join us for dinner. I’ll save some stew for him! Please don’t hesitate to drop by later.”

Yin Yu watched as Xie Lian expertly stepped around the hands littering the streets, then disappeared into the bustle of the Ghost City market. He gave a deep, resigned sigh and returned to sweeping.

--

[candlelight27]

Chapter 2: Reach For My Hand

Summary: Sylvain has been ignoring you since you met him. You had been in love with him since you met him. College is about to offer you a fresh start. New academic year, new life. You were ready to forget him. But fate seems to have other plans… (COLLEGE AU)

Series: Seeking Your Warmth If Only For A Day

Warnings: Objetification (?), anxiety attack, curse words

Pairings: Sylvain Jose Gautier x Female Reader

Word Count: 4562

AO3: Reach For My Hand

A/N:  Sorry it took too long. My writing process is unpredictable. Besides, it was a boring chapter at first and I think I managed to make it interesting? Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!  If you have suggestions, requests, theories or whatever leave a comment of come talk to me on tumblr - same username.

Your first week of university had passed all at once. Time flew between jotting down notes, going back and forth, meeting all your new teachers and, overall, trying to survive. Thankfully, Lysithea had shared all her notes with you, so you weren’t that lost – since Claude was keen on gossiping with you in the middle of lessons…

…And since Sylvain proved himself to be a huge distraction. And an active one, in fact.

The ominous day Byleth paired you with him, Sylvain had approached you after class. Hands in his pockets, his chest a little puffed and a glamorous grin on his face, he had the perfect pose to be on the cover of a teenage magazine. And with his casual tone, he nonchalantly asked you for your number..  

“We better stay in touch to finish the project”, he added. Your heart skipped a beat – or two or three – and you nodded. You hoped that excitement would go unnoticed. There was the slightest shyness in his voice, but you discarded the thought. It was absurd to consider you’d awaken even the smallest amount of insecurity in him, regarding the fact that he was the embodiment of confidence.

“Sure”, you smiled and grabbed a pen. Sylvain stopped you muttering a ‘wait’ and took out his phone. He opened a tab for a new contact.

“Here, write your number.” You took it and started writing. Then, it hit you that Sylvain actually knew how you were called. He had edited the blank space, where you saw all the letters that spelt your name standing triumphantly. He even had added a heart emoji next to it. So, even if he had never acknowledged your existence, he was aware of it.  

“Write me whenever you feel like it,” he said with a wink. Your name rolling out of his lips was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

As he went away and followed Mercedes out of the classroom, Claude rose his eyebrows.

“Well, that went better than expected. Our plan is running smoothly,” he hit you with his elbow.

“Your plan, Claude. I never agreed to it,” you sighed, while he just chuckled and let it be.

But that wasn’t the end of the phone matter. Not at all.

The next day you met your new teacher, Catherine. She was interesting, and she made her lessons about the Evolution of Warfare quite enjoyable – which was itself a great deed, in your opinion. However, there was a downside, and it was that the blonde woman talked your ears off with her millions of tales that weren’t that interesting and definitely not exam material.

It was early and you were barely awake when you felt the light vibration of a message on your mobile phone. Who could be at that hour? You looked next to you. Marianne was as still as a corpse, Claude was probably asleep and Lysithea was fiercely taking notes, so it was not any of them trying to be discreet. Ingrid would never use her phone during a lesson, so she was ruled out too.

With caution, you unlocked the screen of your phone and placed it on your lap.

Unknown 09:45: Are you bored too?

Did Dorothea change her number again?

You 09:46: Who are you?

Unknown 09:46: Look right 😊

You did. And you came across Sylvain waving at you. You saved his number quicker than you’d like to admit.

You 09:48: Good morning, Sylvain

You 09:48: And yes, I’m bored to death

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a smile gracing Sylvain’s countenance, and you felt like a schoolgirl all over again.

Sylvain 09:49: Is Claude asleep? For real?

You 09:50: Most likely…

And that was the beginning of your academic doom.

It turned out that Sylvain was a compulsive text-writer. He wasn’t shy about sending you millions of messages at any time. And you, foolish as always, responded every last one of them. Against your will, as you typed on your phone, butterflies flied around your stomach.

The first days, he limited your interactions strictly to Catherine’s lessons and breaks. But as the week progressed, you found yourself going to sleep a little later just to share a few more words with the infamous flirter.

You two didn’t have meaningful conversations at all. You talked about high school, books, films, you shared jokes and silly occurrences… Yet it made you feel that an already existing connection tying you with Sylvain was awakening. It was absurd, to think there was a bond that had been formed before between both of you, but you couldn’t cast aside that sensation. Like a distant memory of a dream you once had. Like the primal needs our bodies feel. You felt there was something that linked you with him, and it was ancient and significant.

When Claude discovered what you and Sylvain were up, he was delighted.

“Don’t you realize that’s just what we needed for our plan?”, he opened his eyes and leaned in closer, so your classmates wouldn’t hear him.

“Again, your plan, Claude”, you shook your head. “And you seem to be making it up as it goes.”

“Well, that’s my charm, darling,” he laughed, and went on playing with his phone. You threw him your best deadpan look.

With so many distractions, the weekend arrived in the blink of an eye. It was rather cloudy when you woke up, and late, because it was Saturday and you didn’t have any obligation. You rolled in bed, throwing away your blanket and yawning.

Then, you heard a thud next to you. It was your phone. You remembered you had been talking with Sylvain when you fell asleep. You deliberated if maybe it wasn’t better to ignore him for a day. You were starting to get your hopes up, and you wanted to avoid another disappointment. But as if your hands moved on their own, you opened the conversation to see what you had missed.

Sylvain 01:13: What do you mean you HAVEN’T seen Loog and the Maiden of Wind???

You 01:15: ??

You 01:15: What’s wrong?

Sylvain 01:17: It’s Ingrid’s favourite film!

Sylvain 01:18: More like, she loved complaining about how they got all the scenes from the book wrong

Sylvain 01:18: Still she made me watch it like 1819341973 times

You 01:19: She wanted me to watch it

You 01:20: I just happen to have really good excuses 😉

Sylvain 01:25: Well you are going to watch it with me

You 01:26: Why would I?

Sylvain 01:27: It’s called solidarity

You 01:27: I don’t have that

(Unread) Sylvain 01:31: ☹

(Unread) Sylvain 01:31: Please, suffer with me

(Unread) Sylvain 01:33: C’mon I promise I’ll be good, I won’t bite you

(Unread) Sylvain 01:33: Unless you ask me 😉😉😉

(Unread) Sylvain 01:35: So I’m going to believe that you’re asleep and are not in fact ignoring me

(Unread) Sylvain 01:34: Good night, princess <3

You sighed and got up. What were you getting yourself into? And what were you trying to achieve? ‘Don’t implicate yourself too much’, has said Claude, but you were already in too deep. But your friend probably knew as much and was plotting something entirely different.

Ignoring your best judgment, you started typing.

You 09:53: Good morning!

Goddess, you felt stupid.

“Good morning”, greeted Ingrid when you left your room. “I got some pastries for breakfast.”

“Nice.”

You sat next to her and started to munch on the first sweet piece you found. The television filled the room with a comforting background noise. You were half listening the weather and the news. Your phone suddenly beeped, indicating you had a new text message. You looked at the screen with discretion and unlocked it with an unbothered appearance, trusting Ingrid wouldn’t ask questions.

Sylvain 10:01: I unilaterally decided we’re watching the film today, princess

You couldn’t hide your expression, and Ingrid looked your way.

“Who are you texting?”, she tried to use a teasing tone. “I’ve never seen you so hooked on your phone. Is it Claude?”

There was no use in lying, so you’d answer thruthfully. You could even get some intel about Sylvain without revealing your game if you played your cards well.

“Oh, no. It’s Sylvain?” You feigned disinterest.

“Is he bothering you? I could scare him off,” she offered, with her eyebrows furrowed.

“What? Don’t do it.” A small and nervous laughter escaped your mouth at the idea.

“Don’t tell me he’s done it”, Ingrid said, and she rested her head on her hands, her attention focused on you.

“What has he done?”

��Charming you!”, she replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ingrid, I was paired with him for some project. That’s all,” you assured her.

“Well, just don’t fall for him. He can be very disgusting sometimes. He’s a good friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend.” She hummed. “As far as I know, of course.”

“Don’t worry,” you smiled, appeasing, “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s weird, though. He never texts anyone on his own accord. He always says it’s a waste of time.”

“It’s for the project. No biggie,” you affirmed, yet you knew you’d have to keep in mind that fact.

“Ah, that must be it,” Ingrid shrugged. “He may be always chasing skirts, but he’s very diligent with academic matters.”

You 10:15: I have a better idea

You 10:16: Let’s go to the library and start Byleth’s project

You weren’t ready for watching a film with him. In the best-case scenario, you’d faint like Bernadetta on your high school days.

Sylvain 10:17: The library? In this era of technology?

You 10:17: Yes.

Sylvain 10:18: Okay, fine

Sylvain 10:19: You are right, old-fashioned university professors love their bibliographies filled with books :/

Sylvain 10:19: But you owe me one film

You 10:19: … we’ll see.

You 10:19: Let’s meet at the library at 6 p.m.

“I’m going to the library with Sylvain today,” you commented to Ingrid.

“Do you mind if I invite Ashe over?”

Well, you weren’t expecting that. You noted mentally to compare notes with Dorothea, because now you didn’t have any doubt that there was something going on between her and Ashe. Never ever had she invited a guy before that wasn’t Felix, Sylvain, or Dimitri.

“Oh, yeah, go ahead, I don’t mind,” you encouraged her.

“Cool!”

 You were getting ready, mulling over what you were going to wear. You didn’t want to try too hard, this wasn’t a date, but nevertheless you wanted to look good – despite the fact that if anyone ever asked you, you’d completely refuse that thought had crossed your mind. It was absurd, but denial helped you to keep going.  

As you struggled to decide, you heard Ingrid biding you goodbye and the door being closed. You supposed she was going to meet Ashe and bring him to your place. You grinned to yourself. Immediately after, your phone started ringing. It was Dorothea. She had a distinctive melody that she sang herself for you. What on earth could have made her call you? She was the queen of voice messages.

“Yes?”, you began.

“You better tell me what the fuck is happening!”, she yelled with her usual dramatic twist.

“What is happening?” You were quite confused and tried to go over all the things she could be referring to.

“Don’t play dumb. First, Ingrid is all starry-eyed when she talks about Ashe and now you have a date with Sylvain? Is the water in your apartment poisoned?” You wondered how she found out, but Dorothea had a sixth sense for love affairs.

“Well, Ingrid is the one with an actual date,” you pointed to divert her attention. “I’m just going to the library because-”

“Because a project? Why does it sound so familiar? Ah, yes, it’s what I told my parents when I was going to make out with a classmate in high school. And don’t distract me throwing Ingrid to the wolves.”

“What do you want of me?”, you exclaimed out of frustration.

“A confession!”

“Who are you? Seteth?” You could hear Dorothea’s sweet laugh at your joke.

“How could I be so stupid? Your crush has been Sylvain all these years!”, she was creating a fuss on the other side of the phone. “I’m not going to lie, I didn’t expect that, not in the least.”

“You are assuming way too much.”

“Shut up! I guess Sylvain is a whole reason himself to keep it a secret, but you should have told me.” Dorothea made a pause. “My poor baby suffering all those years in silence! Aunty Dorothea is here to comfort you!”

“Quit the joking. Now tell me what I should wear for my not-a-date”, you said indignantly.

“Oh, right. Do you recall the Red Canyon? You definitely should put on that thing you wore. It will catch his eye, but it doesn’t seem way too elaborated.”

“Thank you, Dorothea, you are a genius. Are you reading my mind?”

“Really? I can see right through you”, she giggled. “You haven’t changed. And I would you why you are so worried about your clothes when it’s not a date, but you’d just mutter any excuse and ignore me altogether.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Now, inform me of you not-a-date with Sylvain when you’re finished right away, okay?”, she finished with her motherly intonation.

“Fine, fine! Goodbye, I have to go now!” You saw the time and it was really late.

You got dressed in a hurry and grabbed your laptop, some notebooks and a couple of pens.

 By the time you arrived at the library, Sylvain was already there. He was looking around, his bag grabbed laid causally on his back, hold by the handle with his strong fist. His other hand was resting in his pocket.

While his appearance was laid back, you were a bundle of nerves. As soon as your gaze found him, you felt a knot form in your gut. You denied that the young man could have that kind of effect on you, but the evidence was overwhelming. Why did it have to be so difficult in person? It had been so easy when you didn’t have to see his face – so handsome it was unnerving. You were the opposite you had been on your telematic conversations, far from your calm, charming and charismatic charade.

He was wearing a simple long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. It was a mystery for you why he didn’t opt for a modelling career. You forcibly reminded yourself that despite his beauty, he was a Don Juan, totally uninterested in you. You chanted Claude’s words ‘see what happens, don’t implicate yourself too much’ as you approached him.

Suddenly, his tan eyes focused on you as he recognized your figure, so you composed yourself the best you could. His lovely lips displayed a soft smile.

“Hey, Sylvain”, you greeted with an affected amiability. Still, you were tense.

“Hello there, princess.” He winked at you. “It’s nice to see you outside the classroom.”

“Yes, it’s refreshing,” you nodded.

You entered the big building with Sylvain at your side. Neither of you said anything, justifying yourself in the mandatory silence of a library. Some girls giggled as you walked past them, pointing at you two. And you noticed Sylvain looked a bit annoyed. The next thing you noticed was your teacher Catherine distracting the black-haired librarian with her nonstop chatter.

You turned your head to comment something to him, but he grinned, and you forgot your words. You simpered back, and he seemed content with that.

At last, you were in the ‘working-group’ area. The library itself was almost empty – but Dorothea told you it would be filled to the brim during finals week. There were some students chatting and taking notes, but not too many since most of the would be probably going to bars, pubs, and discos. And it was right then when it hit you that Sylvain was not in some sort of date or in a quest to gain the favours of a pretty girl.

So far, you had detected two oddities in his behaviour. Texting and spending a Saturday evening in the library. And the common factor was you.

“Where should we start?”, asked Sylvain as he took a seat, startling you since you were absorbed in your thoughts. You mimicked him and made up your mind.

“Let me thing”, you said. At the same time, you took your laptop from your bag and turned it on. “Since we have to talk about the early history of Faerghus… maybe we can cover the foundation first?”, you suggested. Sylvain had a notebook and a pencil and started scribbling an outline of the project. “We’ll need… a biography of Loog. Or two. And a history book about the 8th century.” You peeked his handwriting. It was neat, with small letters. His S’s had an characteristic flourish.

“I have a good book on the Crescent Moon War, which is also a theme featured in our project”, he said, staring at his sheet. “Well... it’s Miklan’s”, Sylvain grimaced as he added that part, “but I can borrow it.”

“That’d be great.”

“Do you know what’d be great?”, he looked at you. “Watching Loog and the Maiden of Wind! I don’t know what you have against films. It would have been a perfect way to spend our Saturday.”

“Again?”, you laughed.

“It’s for research purposes. No fishy business here.” He placed the palm of his hand over his chest. “Scout’s honour.”

“If I accept will you focus on out project?”, you bit your lip.

“Yes! I promise.”

“Okay. How about we watch it once we’re finished?”

“It’s a deal.” He winked again, looking satisfied with himself. Then, he stood up. “I’ll look for the books we need. In the meantime, you can search on the Internet some good articles on the controversies of Loog’s biography.”

At the moment he vanished, you breathed deeply to calm your heart, since you could almost hear it thudding in your chest. This meeting had been more awkward than you had expected, at least on your part. You wondered if Sylvain was feeling it too, the rusty mechanism of two people who knew each other but had never held a whole conversation in real life.

And all the same… It didn’t feel bad, being next to Sylvain. It was great, even if you were on edge. If you didn’t know it was impossible, you’d describe that sensation as familiar. A déjà vu of some sort, as though you had gone over this stage with Sylvain a million of times and every time your pulse shot up.

You tried to concentrate on looking for articles. You found a couple of them that could be useful, singed under big names of the field that would increase the credibility of your work.

You were absentminded during the rest of your search, trying to figure out how to be natural in your next conversation with Sylvain. You were a little insecure, even when Sylvain seemed to be comfortable with you. Your head was full of what ifs.  

“I got our books!”, Sylvain announced cheerful, interrupting your worry.

He sat again next to you. And you swore he was closer than he was before. You could feel the heat emanating from him, warming your arm. And you could hear him breathing. His scent reached you. He had used just deodorant, which along with his natural smell was intoxicating. His shoulder bumped into yours in what looked like a premeditated manner.

“We could split the work. Maybe we could work together on the main structure and the final draft, and work on the information on our own…”, you said as you tried to concentrate on the pile of history volumes rather than any matter related to Sylvain. Otherwise you’d forget how to speak.

“That seems fair.”

Sylvain made himself comfortable, resting his chin on the hand opposite to you. This way he had a perfect view of what you were writing on your computer – and your face, but you refused to believe he was that interested in you. He was invading your personal space in every way and he didn’t care.

“What do you prefer?”, you asked, all professional. You weren’t going to move away.

“I don’t mind, love,” he shrugged. “What do you prefer?”

“Sylvain, we are a team. You should give your opinion.” He remained silent and you dared to turn your head away from the screen of your laptop. He was smiling, but his eyes were half-close, as if figuring out what you were thinking. “Sylvain?”

“Ah, yes.” He blinked. “We’re a team.” He stopped, savouring the word. “I’ll take the Crescent War Moon in that case.”

He then wrote a couple of lines on his notebook. You could see he was writing down a list of ideas on bullet points. You did the same on a sheet of paper you had on you. After a couple of seconds, he talked again.

“Thanks for taking into consideration my preferences,” he placed his arm around the back of your chair.

“Why wouldn’t I?”, you questioned seriously. You were at total lost with him, so you leant in closer. You couldn’t care less, you were just playing his game. He acknowledged it, because you could see him narrowing his eyes at your movement.

“Let’s say some people is not as nice.”

You didn’t answer. What could have you said? It was not what you were expecting him to reply.

Breaking the bubble that you both had formed around you, two girls appeared out of nowhere. They were the ones you had seen before when you entered the building. Instinctively, you distanced yourself from the redhead.

“Sylvain?”, one of them started. They both were wearing fake grins.

“Do I know you?”, Sylvain asked, showing a bit of discomfort.

“Of course? We had a date in summer!”, the girl continued. She hadn’t taken the hint. “So, my friend and I were wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight, go to a bar, then you could come to our apartment, you know…”

You opened your eyes in surprise at the girl’s forwardness. And judging by Sylvain’s astonishment, he wasn’t expecting either such a direct and shameless offer. Did Sylvain have to deal with that too often? It made you feel uneasy. Of course, Ingrid would say he’d deserve it, because he had cultivated his reputation himself, but every part was so wrong. The way they talked to him as if he was a piece of meat, they way they looked at him.

“I’m afraid I must decline your offer, darling,” he talked in his most conciliatory voice.

“What? Really?”, said the other friend, huffing. “You said he’d agree.”

“Well, I’m working on a project with my friend, so… I’m quite busy.”

“I can’t believe you are rejecting us, Sylvain,” she made a disgusted face. “Anyways, your choice. Enjoy your new girlfriend, but I guess it will last like one week before you can find someone better.” Then, they turned around, looking behind a few times and gossiping.

“What the hell?”, you wondered, bewildered.

“Just my routine”, he sighed.

“We can continue another day, Sylvain”, you tested the waters. You sensed something was wrong and that he wanted to go home, and you had the feeling that he wouldn’t admit it by himself. “It’s getting late anyways.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re right. Let’s go” He put the piece of paper inside one of the pages of a volume he was going to take. “We can meet other day to put everything together.”

“Of course.” You started putting away your things back in your bag. Sylvain was no longer smiling.

“Can you pass me that book?”, he pointed at the red one you had on your side.

You took it and offered it to him. He extended his hand, and when he placed his fingers around it, they brushed yours. Your heart started to beat fast.

Yet before you could make sense of the occurrence, a stabbing pain stroke you. It felt like a spear had pierced through you, right below your chest. It was so real, so shocking, tears started to form on your eyes. You felt blood coming out, but when you looked for it, there was nothing there. The pain was beginning to expand, a wildfire burning your torso.

You put your palm where you felt the pain, unable to breathe. Suddenly, Sylvain realised something was wrong. You were opening your mouth to take in oxygen, but it was in vain.

“What’s happening?”, he could be shouting your name, but you couldn’t listen because the only thing you heard was a rush on your ears.

He grabbed your arm, but it only made it worse. It made all those strange phenomena more sharp and real. You whispered a faint ‘let me go’, and Sylvain moved away immediately. His steps were so fast he hit the chair and it fell down.

All of a sudden, when his skin wasn’t in contact with yours, everything subsided.

“Are you okay?”, Sylvain asked, alarmed. You hadn’t seen him that serious in all your life.

“Yes. I…”, you didn’t finish the sentence. Instead you recovered your breath slowly.

“Stop making so much noise! And don’t break the furniture!”, a kid appeared from behind one of the bookcases. His hair was dark brown, and he wielded a broom that he used to threaten. You felt a little embarrassed, so you muttered an apology before grabbing your things and almost running to the exit. Sylvain followed you closely.

“Are you okay?”, Sylvain repeated once you were on the street. As far as you could tell, he was concerned, but more than worry, his eyes displayed suspicion and curiosity.

“Yes. It’s nothing, I just had a problem breathing… maybe it was the dust”, you brushed it off.

“It might have been an anxiety attack. Some people have a lot during their first year at university”, he noted. His smile came back, reassuring. It was incredible how his demeanour could change so quickly. “What a day, huh?”, he laughed. “We should meet again soon. I had fun despite everything.”

“Despite the awkwardness too?”, you replied, both playful and too exhausted from the experience to second-guess your interactions with him.

“What do you mean? That was the best part!”

“C’mon Sylvain!” You denied with your head.

“I don’t know, okay? It just felt nice. You make good company.” He was staring off inro space, and you hoped in the most obscure part of your heart that he was being honest.

“Oh, and you realize that now?”, you teased.

“Better late than never,” your classmate added.

“I suppose.”

Step by step you started walking in the same direction. You were in silence. Each of you had much to make sense of. You weren’t paying attention to the time, until you reached a familiar crossing.

“I’m going this way”, you said as you signalled your direction.

“I’m happy we got paired up in class,” he stated. He was just as handsome as when you met him, but he had a sadder air.

“Me too. See you later, Sylvain.”

“See you.” He stood there, watching you disappear into a corner. Then, he talked to himself. “What a day…”

[jarienn972]

La Sirena - Chapter Three

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

My intent had been to post this latest chapter update for @cssns​ yesterday, but neither Tumblr nor my internet at home wanted to cooperate so Chapter Three was a little bit delayed. I decided with this chapter to jump a few days ahead so that Killian was partially recuperated and able to start exploring his new surroundings.  He’s discovered that his “angel” is a mysterious, lonely woman who has been stranded on this stretch of shore for a very long time and he wants to learn more about her.  Will he get more than he bargained for though?

I have to say thanks again to @courtorderedcake​ for her beautiful artwork featured here and to @kmomof4​ for being an amazing beta reader!

The first two chapters can be found on AO3 and FF.net or here: One  Two

Chapter Three: A Glimpse of the Unknown

By the third sunrise since arriving on this distant cove, Killian was at last feeling recuperated enough to venture beyond the protected thicket. He'd been gratefully accepting Emma's offered sustenance and had enjoyed the few, brief conversations they'd shared. The fruits she'd brought had served to nourish his weakened body, especially after a week or so subsisting on the unidentifiable gruel the pirates had shoved at him. More so, her pleasant words may have been few, but they had helped ease his troubled mind and he hoped to entice her into talking more now that he had recovered enough to carry on an intelligent discourse.

What had brought her here to such a seemingly lonely place? Was she truly alone here or were there others living nearby? He had no inkling whether she'd answer him, but with little else to do, he'd relish the challenge.

For now, he was anxious to stretch his legs and discover a bit more of the isle he'd landed upon. Using a nearby palm tree stump to aid in keeping his balance, Killian found his footing and pushed himself fully upright for the first time since he'd escaped the doomed pirate ship. He'd crawled about the clearing as needed and he'd of course been able to sit cross-legged in the sand to eat, but standing suddenly felt foreign. His legs protested the exertion, although not nearly as much as his throbbing head. He had to pause for a few seconds to allow the dizziness to pass, but he pressed forward despite the realization that he'd likely underestimated the severity of the blow he'd taken from the ship's rigging.

It was also at this moment that it dawned on him what a fright he must look. His uniform had been torn to shreds in battle, made worse during his imprisonment, and now hung in tatters on his gaunt form. The relentless waves had shredded the fabric even further but had barely touched the dark stains. His current state was completely unbecoming of an officer but he was a long way from a tailor so he'd have to make due. He was determined to do one thing to improve his outward appearance - bathe. He'd not bathed properly since he'd departed Liam's ship nor had he shaved. His chin itched of several days' growth of whiskers and he found himself idly wondering if his lovely companion might have soap or better yet - a straight razor - in her possession.

Taking each step slowly and deliberately, he followed a narrow, well-trodden path through the patch of cycads, emerging onto a pristine expanse of shoreline. The sand squishing between and beneath his toes was warm, but not uncomfortable as he trudged toward the water's edge. He'd not yet seen Emma this morning. Perhaps he'd risen before her? He was tempted to turn back towards the rocks and search for her, but he knew she'd come find him in time. Right now, he was eager to wade into the crystal clear bay that stretched out before him as far as the eye could see and allow the seawater to wash away the grime and ease the aches in his joints.

And if the fair maiden wasn't around to see him, he could shed his torn, bloodstained linen shirt and the stiff, uncomfortable wool uniform trousers. A least for a few minutes…

The scratchy trousers were the first to go, followed quickly by his shirt. He'd not even bothered undoing all of the buttons as several were already missing. By the time he reached the water, he'd left a trail of clothing behind but as long as he was still alone on the beach, his dignity remained intact.

He waded into the surf, noting that the shallows extended only a short distance from the shore before dropping into unknown depths. At least the waves were calm as they broke against his legs. He dared only to venture in waist deep, not prepared to test his swimming ability so soon lest Emma need to rescue him again. As he bent his knees to lower his torso into the cool, salty water, he watched the little fish darting around. He cupped water in his open palms and splashed it onto his face, careful to avoid the gash on his forehead as he scrubbed away layers of grime. His wound still stung enough without introducing more saltwater to it.

He wasn't normally a contemplative person but even he had to recognize how recent events had altered his perspective. For days in captivity, he'd had nothing but time to think about those he'd failed. His crew. His brother. Himself. Maybe he lacked the necessary skills to be a proper leader. He'd sailed his crew into certain death and yet, here he was - left to wallow in guilt. Liam would have fought harder. He wouldn't have allowed his crew to be taken prisoner.

And yet Liam was the one who'd given the order to scout the uncharted island. The order had come from him. He was the Captain. Liam had imparted this fate upon them with his order…

Killian squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, willing himself to banish those thoughts. No, Liam was a good captain. He would never knowingly endanger his crew, especially not with his younger brother leading the expedition. It had been an unfortunate series of events that Killian alone had survived to lament. Fortune had intervened and spared his life, bringing him here to another uncharted, idyllic locale. The cove and its beguiling inhabitant were both ripe with beauty and intrigue.

At some point, his senses became aware that he was no longer alone. He didn't know how long she'd been watching him but he couldn't halt the flush of embarrassment from darkening his cheeks as he splashed an abrupt about-face in the water.

"Apologies," she shouted from the shore. "I didn't intend to startle you."

"'Tis alright," he replied, stupidly arguing with himself as to whether he should cover himself.

"I followed your trail from the grove," she began, waving an arm in the direction of his discarded clothing littering the beach. "If I had known you wished to bathe, I would have recommended the spring-fed pool inside the cavern as being more preferable…"

He chuckled to himself as he gave his head a little shake. Of course, it would have been… "I'll remember that for future reference."

"I am pleased to see that you're feeling stronger today," she smiled while a breezy tradewind fluttered the hem of her tunic, giving him a glimpse of her pale but enticingly shapely legs.

"Yes," he gulped, suddenly even more aware of his current state of undress. "I am feeling much better this morning…"

"That is wonderful. I've refilled the carafe for you back at the grove and brought you some fresh fruit. Is there anything else you might need?"

"You wouldn't happen to know where a man might get some new clothing and perhaps a straight razor around these parts? Is there a town or village nearby where I might find such things? My former uniform is rather an unacceptable mess at the present."

"I'm afraid that the nearest place you'd call a village is more than a day's trek up the peninsula from here and it's certainly not a place where you'd find such goods."

"Ah, pity. We truly are quite isolated here, are we not?"

"Afraid so, but you might be surprised by what this bountiful cove can provide. I believe I may be able to locate some clothing for you and perhaps some personal implements as well. Come join me in the cavern and we can take a look?"

"Ehh…," he stammered, blushing an even deeper shade of crimson. He'd not thought of himself as a prudish person but he was far from a brash braggart who would dare reveal his nudity to an innocent maiden yet. "That sounds like a wonderful idea…"

She seemed a tad confused when he didn't exit the water but after a moment, she understood his hesitation. "Ah - I am truly sorry… I have had little need for modesty in my solitude. I'll leave you be and meet you back beneath the trees in a few minutes."

"Much appreciated," he responded as she turned toward the swaying palms, all the time hearing the ghostly echo of Liam's laughter ringing in his ears.

**********

After ensuring that the coast was clear of prying eyes, Killian padded self-consciously out of the sea. He collected the remnants of his threadbare shirt and used it to give himself a precursory drying off as he fetched his trousers. He would have preferred to burn them rather than don them yet again, but with no other option for clothing presently available, he'd have to suffer and make due. He didn't have the foggiest notion of what Emma had meant when she spoke of the provisions of this bountiful cove, but he had to trust her. He was the outsider here and even though he still knew little about her, he doubted she would have mentioned anything if she couldn't be of assistance.

He chose not to bother putting what remained of his shirt back on as he followed her footprints back into the cycad grove where he'd spent nearly every waking moment since being marooned on this shore. The canopy had provided shade and shelter to him, although he was thankful the skies had been fair. He'd spent the past decade and a half aboard various ships, his leave in port usually brief so this was an unfamiliar experience for the seasoned mariner.

Not necessarily an unpleasant one though, he thought to himself as he arrived to find Emma kneeling in the sand, splitting apart a fig. She silently offered him one half as she bit into the other. Killian accepted it with a nod, popping it into his mouth before realizing she was staring at him with her intense green eyes.

"Have I done something wrong?" he queried with a furrowed brow, concerned he had offended his host with either his actions or his partially clothed form.

"No, no…" she assured him, averting her eyes with a hint of shame. "I was just admiring your pelt…" Her face scrunched in disgust at her errant choice of words. "No, that's not the right word…" She shook her head, trying desperately to come up with the proper term as Killian looked on in confused amusement. "I was drawn to the dark hair that covers your limbs and your torso… The males of my people, they simply do not possess body hair in such patterns."

"Your people don't have body hair?" he asked, incredulously, lifting a curious eyebrow as he wondered how they'd gotten to this conversation.

"Not to the extent of yours… They are able to grow facial hair but only fine, pale hairs adorn their bodies…" Her attempt to explain what she meant only began to exacerbate her awkwardness. "A thick coat of fur is not needed for warmth in our land so I have never seen anyone with such an impressive display of hair…"

"Well, it isn't really for warmth where I come from either. I inherited it from my grandfather, I believe…," he realized he was blushing while he rambled on, suddenly wishing he had something to cover his bare chest.

"Please - do not be embarrassed. I had no intention of shaming you and I should not have been staring - it's not polite - but it has been a very long time since I've been this close to anyone."

"How long?" he caught himself asking, cringing immediately as he blurted out the insensitive question. "Forgive me, please. That wasn't proper for me to be asking."

"It's no matter. We've both made our blunders, have we not?" She mused with a shy grin, the first time he'd truly noticed her smile. It was only visible for a split-second as she abruptly changed the subject, reverting back to her stoic front. "You should come with me to the cavern now. I believe you shall find some of what you seek there."

"Inside the cave?" There was a heavy dose of disbelief in his voice. What on earth would be inside that cavern that would be of use to him?

"Please, just follow me. You will see."

He might have still been skeptical but he was also of the opinion that if a beautiful woman asked you to follow her, you followed her. He'd be damned if he wasn't going to do as requested.

The mouth of the cavern was deeply recessed into the jagged outcrop, making it virtually invisible from the bay. It was dark and uninviting but as they made their way over the ridge and passed into the void, Killian was pleasantly surprised to learn that the interior was relatively well illuminated. Streams of sunlight filtered in through cracks in the cavern's ceiling and he also recognized the acrid scent of smoke lingering in the tempered air, likely residue from the series of torches and lanterns lining the rock walls that Emma used to navigate the tunnels.

With Emma leading the way, they rounded a shadowy corner in a dim passageway that became ablaze with light as they neared. Emma was only a few steps ahead of him, but suddenly there were torches roaring to life. He'd not seen her stop to light the flames, but he shook it off as a trick of his weary head. His injury must be toying with his imagination.

The chamber they'd now entered was clearly Emma's living quarters and Killian swallowed back a swell of unease at invading her private dwelling, although she didn't appear fazed. He noted its simple furnishings as they passed, this not being her intended destination. Tucked away in an alcove, he saw only a mattress fashioned from woven raffia grasses and a series of colorful ceramic carafes like those she'd used to bring water to him. She seemed to have little need for creature comforts or material goods, so different from the women he'd encountered in various ports around the realm.

"Just a bit further," she stated, drawing his attention away from her dwelling and back to the passage. He noted the trickle of water off in the distance, likely a stream or brook formed from the spring she'd mentioned earlier. They pressed forward into another chamber that again seemed to illuminate as they drew closer. The experience was a tad disconcerting to Killian but he was determined to keep his mouth shut - at least until his jaw fell slack by the revelation of stunning wonders all around him.

The narrow corridor weaving through the rock opened into a broad, expansive subterranean room, awash in brilliance from its own natural skylight which opened directly above a sparkling pool. Faint tendrils of steam arose from the surface. This must be the spring Emma had recommended for bathing and it looked incredibly inviting.

"This is the spring you spoke of earlier?" he queried.

"One of them. This is the mineral hot spring. There is also a cool, sweet water spring around the bend. It feeds into this pool as well as one deeper into the cavern," she advised.

"This cavern… I've seen others similar on my many adventures. It's an old lava tube, is it not?"

"Very astute and yes, this entire cove was formed by an ancient lava flow."

"It is quite a lovely place and I see now many of its provisions, but I still fail to see what assistance this is to be for me…"

"It was not the cavern itself that I was referring to. This happens to be where I have stored some unusual items that originated in your world."

"My world?" he asked, confused as she lowered herself to her knees and lit a lantern conveniently sitting at her feet. When she raised the lamp, he could now make out the objects she'd been so cryptically taunting him with - four large marine chests in varying states of decay.

"Are these not from your world?" She brought the lantern closer to the nearest chest. It was covered in faded, cracked leather and decorated with ornate brass fittings and latches that were marred with heavy patina. He surmised that there was once a matching padlock that was lost to time but there was no evidence that it had been removed by force. The whole thing had seen better days, bearing extensive visible water damage. Depending on how well it had been constructed and the quality of the leather casing, it could potentially still be watertight. "I find these washed up on the shore from time to time."

"They appear to be merchant chests, used for transporting goods. We had many like these on my ship, although these appear to be much older."

"I assume they came from ships that have sunk in the treacherous waters surrounding this land."

"Around this placid bay?" he scoffed. "These waters are far too tranquil. These must have traveled here from afar…"

"Do not allow the tranquility of this cove to fool you. These waters are teeming with untold dangers. Your very survival was nothing short of miraculous!" Even in the half-light cast off by the flickering lantern, he noted the stern admonishment that spoiled her visage before she hastily turned her face away from his view. She paused with a haunting silence as she calmed herself before continuing with the prior topic. "These chests, I have searched through them, though they contain little to serve my needs, save for the bits of fabric and notions. I do believe that you will find objects that will conform to your needs so please, feel free to peruse their contents at your leisure. I am going to return to the bay so I may find some shellfish for our next meal. If you need my assistance, just shout. Voices carry well in this cavern and I have excellent hearing."

She extended her arm towards him, offering him the lantern she held. She wouldn't require it to make her way out of the cave. He took hold of the handle as she pushed herself back to stand. Emma paused momentarily as Killian crouched, flipping open the latch on the first chest to uncover the hidden treasures beneath.

"Thank you. This was not at all what I expected…" he said as he poured over goods that had survived their journey well. He glanced over his shoulder with a wide grin crossing his lips, one that instantly faded when he discovered she'd already departed.

How? He'd barely averted his attention for a minute or two… How had she vanished so rapidly and so stealthily? One more mystery to add to his growing list…

When he emerged from the cavern, he sported a billowy black silken tunic featuring tiny mother-of-pearl buttons and linen trousers that were the color of the sand. He'd needed to draw the laces quite tight to prevent them from sliding off of his slender hips, but they were exceedingly more comfortable than what was left of his woolen uniform pants. He'd fretted over not finding a razor in any of the chests although he did locate a short-bladed cutlass within a chest full of treasure, likely once the property of a long-dead pirate. It didn't sit as comfortably in his grip as his service rapier but it was a solid, capable weapon. It would certainly prove useful to split a coconut or filet a fish.

He tucked the blade back into its scabbard as he caught sight of Emma on the horizon. He was prepared to thank her for the clothing he'd found, but there was something about the expression on her face… She looked worried, even frightened and she was running toward him.

"Emma? You look vexed, love…"

"Get back inside the cave!" she ordered. "There's a storm coming. It isn't safe here…"

Killian's brow lifted in confusion as he glanced skyward, seeing only a few sparse, puffy clouds against the azure backdrop of the heavens. There was no foul wind blowing to indicate an impending storm. Whatever was she talking about?

"What storm? There's no sign of rain clouds above…"

"Killian…," she pleaded, catching his arm as she hurried past him and tugging him back to the shelter of the cave. "Don't argue with me. Just return to the cavern, back to the pools. You can not be caught up in this…"

"In what?" he pressed for more information while trusting her judgement and retreating beneath the rocky overhang. He expected that she would remain here with him for the duration of this coming storm but once he was safely out of the elements, she released her grasp and scrambled back toward the ridge. "Emma? Where are you going? I thought you said there was a storm coming? That it wasn't safe?"

She stopped at the crest of the ridge and lowered her head. He wasn't sure what to make of her body language or the consternation etched into her face as she glanced over her shoulder.

"It isn't safe for you," she replied sternly. "but this storm - it's here for me."

[morganaofcamelot]

If Wishes Came True (Chapter 2)

Title: If Wishes Came True Chapter II: Sense of Family

Fandom: BBC Robin Hood

Ships: Guy of Gisborne/Original Female Character, Guy of Gisborne/Marian of Knighton, Original Female Character/Original Male Character

Definately an AU - Sir Guy of Gisborne has served the current Sheriff of Nottingham for five years prior to the beginning of the first season, and is considered a part of the family, both by Vaisey and his daughter Valerie. The chapters are from Val’s POV, as she struggles to maintain her youthful innocence in a place that’s all too willing to steal it away from her, and navigate the intrigues of her father. [Many changes from the show, although the fic loosely follows season 1]

Important Note: English is not my first language, so I’d appreciate if you can point out any mistakes I make.

On AO3

Tumblr: Ch I

Two days have gone by, since the incident at the hanging. Sir Guy had returned empty handed from his search and the sheriff was livid with anger at first, shouting at his subordinate with such passion that frightened Valerie to her core; the knight stood there, head hung low, barely speaking. She thought she saw some emotion crossing his face, but she couldn’t place it, as Sir Guy’s face had always been unreadable to her.

Valerie felt the need to speak up in Sir Guy’s defense. “Lord Father,” she said, surprising herself as well as the two men with her gall to interrupt them. “Your men say that the fugitives had managed to escape into the forest. You know, in your infinite wisdom, that Sherwood is large and had never been properly mapped out. It is expected that they completely lost them inside that maze.”

Both of them looked at her with astonishment. Her words made sense, Vaisey found. “Yes, well, my daughter is right, Gisborne.” Her father said, with a smile. “Which is why I won’t hold a grudge for your failure.”

The knight perked up, his spirits finally restored. “I thank you for that, my lord,” He said and turned to her. “And I thank you, Valerie.” The small smile he gave her set loose butterflies in her stomach. She managed to return it.

“Which is why,” her father said, taking no notice of the interaction between them, “We will go to Locksley and seek Huntingdon out ourselves. He must be lurking somewhere in his demesne, and we will catch him.”

All too willingly, Sir Guy agreed. “Yes, my lord.” The reverence was back in his voice as he looked at the sheriff.

“Come on, my boy. Let’s waste no time. Gather thirty men, we’re heading to that stinky village, now.”

The knight needed to hear no more. In a few steps he was outside the door, all too eager to please the sheriff.

“Daughter mine,” her father said, sweetly. Alarm set her nerves on fire. Her father never spoke in such tones, so she feared some kind of retribution for speaking out of turn. “Oh, no, no, no, no. Don’t fret. You know I don’t particularly appreciate when you stick your nose in my business affairs, but I have to admit, you were right about Sherwood. It’s a vast forest.”

Valerie tension evaporated a little, only to double back with his next words.

“You should accompany us, today. You have to get a better view of the falsehoods and injustices that plague this land. Have someone prepare your horse, hmm? Good girl.”

Valerie liked horses, but didn’t enjoy riding them. The hour spent on horseback was an hour of discomfort. They had started an hour after the sheriff had declared his intention to pay Huntingdon a visit. Sir Guy had gathered the thirty men quickly enough, and all of them were armed and armored to the teeth. Her father, not so – he didn’t expect to take a part in a possible altercation then.

Sir Guy fell back a little, guiding his black stallion close to her brown palfrey. “Valerie,” he started, his voice dripping honey. “Thank you for your speech, earlier, in the hall.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Sir Guy,” she said, almost a whisper. “I’ve known you for more than five years now, do you think I would not help you? I sometimes think of you as my slightly older brother.” A laugh escaped her, and the knight grinned at her attempt at humor.

“Older? Am I not younger than you, then?”

His mirth made her heart flutter. Focus Valerie, she pleaded to herself. “Only one of us has seen the other with pigtails. Was that you sporting that style?”

Sir Guy straight up laughed at her joke. Her father glanced behind him, to see what has made Gisborne so jolly, but quickly lost interest and continued to frown at the muddy path before them. The sheriff could fight everything and everyone, but he could not fight the rain that poured the previous night.

“I thought so,” Valerie concluded, speaking more to herself.

“You were in the company of Lady Marian the other day. Are you friendly?” He asked, revealing the reason why he paid her special attention this day. Marian, if only I knew what her role in this sudden insurgence was. No ordinary woman carries daggers in her hair.

“Oh, we haven’t been exchanging secrets, if you have to fish for some. But I quite like her. So I hope to call her a friend soon.” Valerie replied, the lie easily finding melting with the truth.

Sir Guy’s gaze was fixed on the sheriff’s back. He’s trying to play it, as if he doesn’t really care. Oh, but he cares for her, a lot. “Would you fault me if I confessed a secret of mine to you? Would you keep it?”

The answer was easy. “Yes, of course, Sir Guy. I am your friend in all things.”

He half-smiled then. “I quite enjoy her company, Valerie. Lady Marian is a unique creature I wish to possess.”

Ever the virginal maiden, Valerie blushed for Marian’s benefit at such a profound statement. “I dare say, you will be met with luck in your endeavor.”

“You think so?” His voice was almost a murmur. He daren’t believe that his feelings were reciprocated.

Sadness overtook her. A woman who could have you, and your rare smiles, my lord of Gisborne and reject you is a foolish one. “I do. Truly.”

With her assurance, Sir Guy spurred his horse, falling in place next to the sheriff.

 ***

The village of Locksley soon came into view. Father barked orders and the soldiers spread around the village green, dismounted their horses and picked every peasant they could find, bringing them on their knees in front of her father, Sir Guy and her. The sheriff got off his horse and walked amongst them, calmly explaining what he wanted from them.

The peasants remained silent, stealing glances and exchanging confused looks with each other. When the sheriff asked for somebody with information on Huntingdon to come forth, Valerie saw some semblance of honest in their dirty faces. They really didn’t know where their liege was. Not even the generous amount of twenty pounds could convince them to speak.

Then Sir Guy, proving that he wasn’t the sheriff’s right-hand-man for no reason, shouted them that either they would talk, or they would have their tongues cut off. Valerie gulped. She knew that her father dealt harsh punishment on the disobedient peasantfolk, and she knew that Sir Guy was his enforcer.

The frightened look on the villagers’ face told Valerie everything she needed to know. Couldn’t her father read the truth in their eyes? She pondered on why she had never noticed it before.

The sheriff gave a curt nod on one of the soldiers, and he produced an iron scissor, menacingly snapping it on and off, to instill more fear. He grabbed the closest man and…

Valerie could not bear to watch. No, she wouldn’t watch. She turned her head away from the scene, not caring whether her father would disapprove of her cowardice. She just prayed that Huntingdon would show himself sooner, rather than later.

***

The hour passed, and still Huntingdon was nowhere to be found. Valerie thought him a coward by then; another man born and bred into nobility who let innocence people suffer in his stead.

The sheriff and she had been offered chairs to sit upon, and wine to drink while the waiting dragged on. Sir Guy stood, leaning on her father’s chair, yawning from boredom mixed with a splash of tiredness. Oh, but he looks splendid, she thought, taking in his form. The sheriff ordered another clipping, then. She averted her eyes once again.

The minutes trickled by. Neither Sir Guy’s offer of immunity, nor her father’s appeal for rational thought seemed to work.

And then it happened, something happened but the long hours beneath the sun and the foulness of her mood did not help her understand it. As another peasant was grabbed to suffer the punishment her lord father had commanded, an arrow shot through the soldier holding the clipper. The man fell down, face first.

“He is here,” her father declared. The guards rushed to the direction the arrow came from. So did Sir Guy. Minutes later, they returned with the renegade lord in their midst, as a prisoner.

Before she knew it, they were on the way back to Nottingham.

 ***

The moment they arrived at the castle, Valerie sought the comfort of her bed, as she was no longer required.

Her father ordered the guards to throw Huntingdon in the dungeon to await his fate.

By supper she had replenish her strength, and found her father eating rather heartily, in lieu of his victory.

“Ah, my girl!” He welcomed her in open arms. Valerie kissed on the cheek and took a seat beside him.

“What’s to be done with Huntingdon, lord father? Will he stand trial?”

“Oh, thank goodness no. As an outlaw he is to be hanged without a trial. Nice, isn’t it?” he replied. “And at long last, Gisborne can have his title and stop whinging for once.”

“So, Sir Guy is to have his title, after all?” Valerie said. “That’s wonderful news.”

Suddenly, a lot of noise came from the hallways of the castle. “What is going on?” Her father inquired. “Valerie, quickly, stand behind me!” She did as she was bid, and her father drew his sword. Screams echoed on the stone walls and hurried steps, loud bangs and the clashing of blade against blade was heard. Valerie looked around the hall, for a weapon she could use; she had never trained with one, but she would never let her father face his attacker alone.

The double doors were forcefully opened, and Huntingdon walked in, bow and arrow in hand, ready to shoot. Valerie spotted the bandage on his right arm, where the arrow had pierced his skin the other day. Maybe this could play in their favor.

“Yesterday in Locksley, you revealed your true colors. Today I reveal mine. You were right; I have lost my taste for bloodshed, but if you ever, so callously or needlessly hurt someone to get to me, I will kill you.”

Her father talked back in a calm manner. “I don’t believe you, former Lord of Locksley. And I will not change my ways, because you ask me to. If England demands it, I will stoop low, lower than you can possibly imagine, so kill me now!”

The lordling then made a move to fire the arrow and Valerie’s mind reeled. “No!” she screamed. She brought her own self forward to stand between him and Lord Robert. “You shall not harm my father, outlaw.” she spat as she uttered the last word. “Or you shall have to do it over my own corpse.” The eyes of their adversary flicked between her and the sheriff, calculating his chance of success. He didn’t have many arrows in his quiver, Valerie noted. “How noble it will be of you, to murder a defenseless woman!”

He blinked. At that moment she knew that Huntingdon had lost his conviction.

“Leave now, and spare your honor and your good name.” Valerie said, appealing to his sense. “Stay, and the guards will overtake you, as I see your forearm is bleeding and you won’t be able to fight ten men on your own, and you’ll kiss the noose earlier than you ever anticipated.”

With that, Huntingdon turned wordlessly, although no less frustrated, and ran. Valerie let out a sigh with a violent sob. “Oh, father,” she told him, tears threatening to overtake her.

“Silly girl,” he replied with generous affection. He sheathed his short sword and embraced her to soothe her. “You shouldn’t endanger yourself.” He kissed her brow, the battle outside forgotten for a split second. The sheriff let her go then, and walked to the window to see that some twenty men had showed up and orchestrated Huntingdon’s escape.

“Ah, if only Gisborne was here.” Her father muttered. “He would show them, my boy.”

[lathalea]

Springtime at the Lonely Mountain, Ch 36

For a while now, I’ve been writing a story from the LOTR universe (The Hobbit, to be exact), focusing on the majestic Thorin Oakenshield. There’s romance, adventure, secrets and dragons (and of course, a bit of those pesky Elves as well;)), and I decided to share some of it on Tumblr as well.

You can read the whole ff on AO3 here.

Summary: A story about young-and-not-yet-brooding (well, not much, at least) prince Thorin and his beloved dwarf maiden, Ása. It is set sometime before Smaug’s attack. Have you ever wondered what could have happened if Thorin met the love of his life before succumbing to the Dragon Sickness? Well, then you’re in the right place!

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Original Female Character

Warnings: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe (sorry, professor Tolkien!)

Since English is not my first language, I’m sorry for any errors in advance. This is my first FF ever, so please be gentle. Let me know what you think! :)

***

Chapter 36: Thru Shadow to the Edge of Night

The warmth of his hand touching her cheek. His nose nuzzling against hers like the lightest touch of wind. The smell of pine needles, iron and... blood.

“Amrâlimê… You came to me,” his low, velvety murmur rumbled in his chest. His feverishly hot fingers caressed her skin.

“Thorin?” her eyelids fluttered. Her gaze met the twin azure oceans of his eyes.

“My lovely Ása…” he murmured, laying down in front of her on his side, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You are truly here,” he found her mouth with his. Ása purred, returning his kiss with equal tenderness, her lips joining his in a sweet, intimate dance.

“I missed you,” she touched his cheek and traced the line of his jaw, caressing his beard. It was more unruly, coarser than she remembered. Then she ran her fingers through his tangled mane, feeling the flecks of stone dust underneath them. Was there a crust of dried blood in his hair as well?

“Thorin, you are hurt!” she whispered in fright.

“Nothing ails me, my love. I have you in my arms,” he replied, holding her close. She ran her hand through his hair again, but this time she found nothing. Something was not right, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. There was something she should recall, something dangerous and terrible that had happened. Whatever it was, it was gone from her mind.

“Where are we?” she looked around in distress, seeing only darkness around them.

“We are together, my One. Nothing else matters,” Thorin murmured. Only then Ása noticed the softness of the furs beneath her and the vague shapes of four bedposts around them. She sighed in relief, resting her forehead against his. Thorin’s bedchamber. There was no need to worry.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she heard herself say, the words leaving her mouth before she could register their meaning.

“I will always be here,” Thorin’s eyes brimmed with tenderness when he took her hand in his and placed them both over her heart. Their fingers intertwined, fitting together perfectly while their hearts beat as one.

Ása’s eyes rested on his wrist. The Idazûl ribbon was still wrapped around it, bound with the ceremonial marriage knot. The golden fabric was covered with dirt and there was a dark stain on it as well.

“Is it… blood?” she touched it. Her One followed her gaze, his eyes widening in surprise. “Blood…” he spoke slowly, as if to himself. “There was blood…”

Suddenly, a whiff of cold air appeared out of nowhere. Thorin wrapped his arms around her in a desperate, tight hug, and placed a fervent kiss on her mouth. Only then she noticed how chapped and dry his lips were.

“It is time for me to leave,” Thorin smiled sadly, gazing deeply into her eyes. “I wish I could stay with you forever.”

“No, Thorin, don’t go!” she exclaimed, clinging to him. “Be safe, my heart,” he kissed the tips of her fingers in that intimate way she always adored so much. And then he was gone. Only darkness remained with her.

***

The whole chapter is rather, well, large (over 3k words), so you can read it whole here.

[searchingwardrobes]

Of Earth and Sea: 4/9

My fic for the 2019 @cssns will drop this Friday, so to celebrate, I’m re-posting my fic from last year (and also because I was a tumblr newbie back then and didn’t post the chapters here, just the link to Ao3)

Gorgeous art by @shipsxahoy!

Summary: Five years after their wedding, Emma and Killian are ready to start a family. But Emma discovers that raising a family isn't that simple when your husband is a Dunedin (half-elf) and your mother-in-law is neither dead nor alive.

Rated T

Tagging: @let-it-raines @profdanglaisstuff @optomisticgirl @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @jennjenn615 @kday426 @mythologicalmango @thislassishooked @resident-of-storybrooke @xhookswenchx

Chapter Three:

Killian followed the loud and boisterous group of royal navy men into the tavern. His brother had frowned in concern when he told him he was heading out with some of the other men to celebrate making Lieutenant. Liam would frown even more if he saw how seedy this tavern was. But Killian hadn’t had a single drink since enlisting. Surely one night of carousing wouldn’t ruin him.

“The first round is on me, lads!” Killian announced as they approached the bar which resulted in a resounding cheer from his mates. Liam’s disapproving voice was like the proverbial angel on his shoulder, so he ordered beer instead of rum.

A few pints later, and the beer became rum. A few rounds of rum, and Killian knew he was in serious trouble. There was a raven haired bar wench in his lap, and another with caramel colored curls leaning over his shoulder, whispering scandalous things in his ear. The lass in his lap shoved the other away.

“I saw him first,” she snapped.

“That may be so,” the fairer haired beauty retorted, “but I have more experience to offer.”

Killian laughed as the brunette with the olive complexion took the younger woman by the ear and yanked her off Killian’s lap. She then leaned over, her curls brushing against his cheek and her ample bosom on clear display. Her gray eyes sparked with mischief.

“A private party upstairs, Lieutenant?”

Killian grinned as he knocked back another shot of rum. “Aye, lead the way fair maiden!”

He rose, the lady’s hand in his, arching his brows at the hoots and catcalls of his fellow naval men. He realized just how much liquor he had consumed when the stairs bucked and swayed in his vision. The maiden was awfully strong for a lass, helping him along.

“You didn’t say anything about payment,” Killian slurred as she yanked him into a room at the top of the stairs.

“My payment comes later, and isn’t coin,” she replied cryptically.

*********************************************************

Killian squinted against the morning light coming through the tiny window. He groaned as he clutched his aching head. He was naked under the covers, but he was alone in the bed. He blinked at the figure sitting in the chair in the corner of the room.

“I have to say,” the feminine voice spoke casually, “I’m not normally as into bedding mortal men as my sister Aphrodite. But you’re not fully a man, are you?”

Killian blinked and the figure came into slightly clearer focus. Instead of the homespun garments and corset of a bar wench, the woman was wearing a shimmering gown of white with gold embroidery. Silver sandals graced her feet, straps criss-crossing halfway up her thighs which were on display through the very long slit in her gown. A circlet of gold rested upon the caramel colored curls that now tumbled down her back and over her shoulder.

“I – I’m sorry,” he mumbled with a tongue that tasted of straw, “did you just something about Aphrodite?”

“Let me give you some wisdom, Lieutenant,” she said with a hint of sarcasm, completely disregarding his question, “a man with elven blood shouldn’t waste his talents on barmaids. I have to say my sister was right about your kind. You make excellent lovers.”

Killian grasped his forehead as a headache pounded behind his temples. “I’m not . . . an elf,” he grunted.

The woman rose and sauntered across the room, her curves swaying. She knelt by the bed and brushed his hair back from his face. “Ah, but elven blood still runs through your veins, Dunedin.”

Then a warmth radiated from her fingers and his mind was suddenly clear, his mouth and throat no longer dry. He eased himself up carefully, but there were no longer any affects from the drinks he imbibed the night before. The woman rose and arched a brow as she regarded him.

“You don’t hold your liquor as well as an elf, but still, you show rather high tolerance for its affects.”

“Who are you?” He glanced frantically about the room. “And where are my clothes?” It wasn’t just that he was naked and therefore, vulnerable, it was also that he had lost his brand new uniform. On his first night as a lieutenant!

“I didn’t want you rushing off too soon,” she replied, her lips quirked up in a smirk, “although, being a goddess, I could find plenty of ways to keep you where I want you.” She paused to peruse his form, her eyes lingering on the sheet pooled low, almost to his hips. She lifted her gray eyes to meet his blue ones.

Understanding finally dawned. “You’re Athena!”

She merely tilted her head in acknowledgement.

“But why would you . . . um . . .” Killian glanced about, pulling his sheet up to mid chest.

“Well, aside from the obvious pleasure of it, I have need of you. My brother Dionysus has stolen something of mine. You will get it back for me.”

Killian narrowed his eyes. “You’re a goddess. Can’t you just get it yourself?”

Athena lifted her gray eyes to the ceiling in irritation. “My brother has these annoying pests who serve him called dryads. I, being a child of Zeus, could never get past undetected. But an elf, however –“

“I told you, I’m not an elf.”

Athena arched a brow. “And you’re also not afraid to argue with a goddess. I wouldn’t be so recalcitrant if I were you, Dunedin, you’ve been marked.”

Killian felt a sudden warmth upon his chest, above his heart, and cried out. When he looked down, the symbol of an olive tree had been branded there.

“The symbol of Athena,” the goddess explained. “You have 48 hours. If you haven’t retrieved what was stolen from me by that time, you will be transformed into a . . . “ she paused, tapping her lips with her fingertip as she contemplated him, “a spider? No, I’ve done that before. A dolphin since you’re a sailor? No, that would be copying my brother. I’m thinking a bird . . . “ she snapped her fingers suddenly, “I’ve got it, a raven! Yes! Black feathers, tortured, brooding . . . yes, it suits you.”

“You know,” Killian quipped, “instead of picking out my punishment prematurely, you could tell me what I’m supposed to be stealing.”

She chuckled. “Yes, I like you Killian Jones. What you’ll be stealing is my olive tree. It’s supposed to grow on Mt. Olympus, an eternal source of wisdom for both gods and men, but my foolish brother is using it as a centerpiece for his orgies.”

“You can make liquor from olives?”

Athena glared at him. “You puny half-human, no. Its leaves are gold and silver. And my simpleton of a brother likes shiny things.”

Killian nodded. “Okay, shiny magical olive tree. Got it. Now um . . . about my clothes?”

 Athena grinned slyly and suddenly, his uniform was there, dangling from her delicate fingers. “Come and get them, sailor.”

*****************************************************

Killian grumbled as he made his way through the thick foliage. Here he was, following an enchanted compass that would supposedly lead him to a part of the forest that no mortal man could find. Yet he could because he wasn’t fully mortal. Maybe.

At any rate, he had to embark on this quest alone. Mostly because it would lead to certain death for anyone else. But also because he didn’t want anyone to know of his lineage. It shouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t as if he could wield magic or bring curses down on anyone. But being different meant people treated you with suspicion at best, outright fear at worst. He definitely didn’t want that tainting his service in the navy.

Killian stopped suddenly and dropped to his haunches. One thing that all Dunedin possessed due to the elven blood in their veins was a close connection with nature. It was what made him an uncanny navigator at sea. It was why he could smell a storm on the breeze when it was still miles away.

And it was why he could now feel the lightest of footfalls vibrating through the earth at his feet. Or more specifically, through the root systems of the trees. He walked on for twenty more minutes before he decided to let his pursuers know he was aware of them.

“Show yourselves!” he cried out, unsheathing his sword. Killian turned in a semi-circle. His elven ears picked up the fluttering of a leaf half a mile away. His elven eyes picked up a bird taking flight in a bush two miles ahead of him. Still no one showed themselves. “I know you are part of the trees!”

The bark of every tree in a sixty yard radius around him cracked and groaned. Then a circle of maidens burst forth from them, and every single one had an arrow cocked at him.

“Bloody hell,” Killian muttered under his breath.

“Why are you trespassing on Lord Dionysus’s lands?” one dryad asked him.

“Well, you see,” Killian chuckled nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck, “I was just minding my own business when this quite angry goddess decides to brand me. And now, well, all I want is a little tree that she’d like back. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding. Sibling rivalry, you know. I have a brother myself –“

“Stop. Talking.”

“Aye, madam dryad, my apologies. However it does seem we are at an impasse, so if you could just kindly take me to your um, Lord Dionysus, so I can discuss this with him, I would really appreciate it.”

Another dryad rolled her eyes and yelled, “shoot!”

Killian cursed again as he deflected an arrow with his sword and then plunged through a break in the circle of dryads. He really wasn’t sure how he was going to manage to get out of this. Liam, I should have listened to you about the rum . . .

Suddenly, there were arrows zinging over his head and into the throng of dryads. One maiden warrior after another fell before the onslaught. Killian twisted his head to see what the hell was going on and tripped on a root. He cursed his own clumsiness until he saw that it was no accident. A dryad stood over him, her arms lifting at her sides as roots twined around each of his limbs.

“Athena should have found a true elf” the dryad spat, and Killian closed his eyes, bracing himself for death.

When nothing happened, he opened his eyes to see the dryad lying dead on the ground next to him. Above him a tall, slender man with long, light-blonde hair and elven ears lifted a sword.

“No, no, no, no!” Killian cried, words failing him. But the elf merely hacked at the roots, setting him free. Once he had hauled Killian to his feet, he held out a hand for him to shake.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Killian. I’m Legolas, a friend of your mother’s”

Killian groaned as he shook the elf’s hand. “My mother sent you?”

Legolas grinned as he slapped the younger man on the shoulder. “Aye, and my friends and I arrived just in time.”

Killian hung his head, massaging his temple. He was nineteen and needed his mother to send help. Once again, he was relieved that none of his shipmates were here to witness this humiliation.

“Come on,” Legolas said to him, “let’s go have a little chat with Dionysus.”

Later that night, the elven warrior bid Killian farewell at the edge of the wood. The olive tree had been returned to Athena, and Killian’s chest no longer bore the brand of the goddess, yet shame and anger towards his meddling mother had Killian’s jaw clenching.

Legolas seemed to sense what he was thinking as he slapped him once again on the shoulder, “Don’t feel bad, my boy. She worries about you.”

“Well you can tell her that from now on I can fight my own battles!” He winced at his own voice, which sounded so young and inexperienced.

Legolas chuckled in understanding. “I will. But she’ll always be your mother. Mine is the same.” The elf reached into his satchel and took out a hard leather flask. He tossed it to Killian, and the young man fumbled to catch it. “Dionysus’s gift to me should be yours. One elf to another.”

He had corrected a goddess when she had called him an elf, but with Legolas it sounded as if he were bestowing an honor. Killian gave the older elf a crooked smile as he weighed the flask in his hand. “Dionysus said this flask never runs dry, filled with whatever alcohol a man prefers.” He tossed it back to Legolas. “Rum makes a man drunk, and when a man is drunk, it gives him bad form. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Legolas chuckled as he pocketed the flask. “Okay, lad, but one day, I have a feeling you’ll want it back.”

*************************************************

“Lend dreams nin mel

Glenn-nai i even lands

  Lend songs bo i thul

  Im tur-feel ha in i nen,

  Im tur-feel in i coe,

  Im tur-smel ha in i gwilith”

Emma smiled as she leaned against the doorway to the nursery, watching Killian sing to their baby girl. He gazed down at her with such tenderness, that it absolutely melted Emma’s heart. Killian glanced up and grinned when he saw her.

“She’s finally asleep,” he whispered as Emma tiptoed across the room.

Elien Hope Jones was still only three weeks old, and still needed to nurse every three or four hours, around the clock. Not only that, the pediatrician thought she might have acid reflux because she fussed for at least a half hour after eating, scrunching up her poor little face and arching her back. Exhaustion and hormones had finally pushed Emma to the breaking point, and after Elien’s last feeding, she had lost it completely, sobbing against Killian’s chest that she was a failure. Her own milk was making their baby sick. He, of course, had soothed her calmly, despite the baby’s piercing wails. Then he had sent her on a walk.

“An elven lullaby?” Emma asked. She reached a hand out to rub Elien’s fuzzy little head, then stopped herself lest she wake the baby. Instead, she buried her fingers in Killian’s hair.

“Mhm,” he said, closing his eyes contentedly at her ministrations. “Elven songs have an almost magical reputation with children. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“How does it go again?”

Killian grinned up at her knowingly. After learning of his heritage, Emma had asked him to speak elvish often. For some reason, she found it incredibly sexy, especially when he sang in elvish.

“Lend dreams nin mel glenn-nai i even lands. That means, sweet dreams, my love, and go to the elven lands. Lend songs bo i thul, which means sweet lullabies on the wind. And im tur-feel ha in i nen, im tur-feel in i coe, im tur-smel ha in i gwilith or in English, I can feel it in the water, I can feel it in the earth, I can smell it in the air.”

Emma arched a brow in surprise. “Seriously? Tolkien didn’t make that up?”

Killian chuckled softly, “Let me, guess. It’s in a movie.”

Emma shook her head. “Why am I still surprised by these things?”

Killian rose carefully from the rocking chair and then lay Elien carefully in her crib.

“Are you sure?” Emma whispered in concern, grabbing his arm. So far, she had only slept in the bassinette in their bedroom.

Killian nodded, pressing a kiss to Emma’s forehead, he then led her from the room, pulling the door shut slowly before turning to her and speaking. “You’re exhausted, love. You need a good night of uninterrupted sleep. Elven lullabies work wonders, I promise you. This could be our answer to her sleeping through the night.”

Emma’s brows creased in concern and Killian rubbed her arms up and down in an attempt to get her to relax. “But what about SIDS?”

Killian drew her close, tucking her head under his chin. “She’s swaddled and she’s on her back. We have a baby monitor with a bloody video screen. She’ll be fine.”

Emma nodded and let out a long sigh. Her weariness suddenly felt as if it were a lead weight on her shoulders. She didn’t protest further as Killian guided her down the hall. She crawled into their queen size bed, casting a worried glance at the bassinette. Yet when her head hit the pillow, her fatigue took over, and after one brief glance at the baby monitor, she was in a deep sleep.

**************************************************

When Emma awoke next, it was in a panicked fog. She could have sworn she heard Elien crying, and her full, leaking breasts attested to the same. Yet it wasn’t crying she heard from the monitor, but contented cooing sounds. Honestly, sounds she had never heard from her baby daughter until this very moment. Emma rolled towards the monitor, and what she saw on the small, grainy screen had her bolting from the bed.

“What is it love?” Killian cried out, springing from the bed and following close on her heels.

Emma skidded to a stop in the nursery doorway, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She hadn’t imagined the ghostly figure on the monitor. For there, bending over Elien’s crib, was a shimmery figure with long auburn hair. Tauriel startled when she saw her son and daughter-in-law in the doorway.

“How dare you!” Emma cried, rushing forward and shoving Tauriel aside. Or as much as you could shove a person who’s body wasn’t completely tangible.

“She called to me,” Tauriel tried to explain in that high, light voice of hers.

“The person she’s calling for,” Emma snapped as she gathered Elien in her arms, “is her mother. She’s hungry.”

Elien started to fuss in Emma’s arms as she made her way to the rocking chair. She sat and shoved down the strap of her tank top, not caring that Tauriel was in the room. Elien rooted around hungrily, then gave a sigh of contentment when she latched on and started to eat. Emma sagged wearily against the back of the chair and gave Tauriel a withering glare.

“You gave her an elven name,” Tauriel said, that smile that was so like Killian’s tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“It’s not like I have anything against elves . . . in theory,” Emma snapped. Was the woman really going to stand here and chit chat? And pretend that she hadn’t materialized in their house in the middle of the freaking night? Pretend she hadn’t gone to their daughter’s nursery without permission?

“Emma –“ Killian started, and it immediately made Emma bristle. She could tell by his tone that he was about to attempt to smooth things over.

“No son,” Tauriel interrupted before Emma could even open her mouth, “I’ll go.”

Emma expected her to shimmer and then fade away like she normally did, but instead she turned and walked out the door and down the stairs. It was then that she realized that her mother-in-law was in a more corporeal form than she normally was.

“Emma,” Killian started again, sinking down on his knees by the rocking chair, “she really couldn’t help it.”

“What the hell?” Emma snapped. “You’re seriously defending her?”

“She wasn’t speaking metaphorically when she said that Elien was calling her. That lullaby I sang? It speaks the truth. Children can visit the elven lands in their dreams, and when they do, an elf can become their guardian angel, so to speak.”

Emma stared down at Elien, who had for the first time since she was born, fallen asleep while nursing. Her breaths were deep and even, her tiny hands tucked contentedly at her cheeks. Emma wanted to stay mad at Tauriel, truly she did, but Elien became a different baby after that. She slept seven hours each night, napped for two hours morning and afternoon, and was overall a happy and content baby the rest of the time. And if Emma heard her daughter’s delighted squeals followed by elven songs in the night, she tried to tamp down the jealousy and just be happy that her baby girl was happy. To take delight in the thought that her daughter had more family than lost girl Emma could have ever imagined.

[heyyyharry]

In Another Life Series: Chapter 3 - The Girl In Black

…in which Y/N’s first day at work is a mess, and Harry’s relationship is not any better.

Series description: Y/N and Harry are soulmates and destined to meet in every lifetime, but no matter how many times they reincarnate and find each other again, they never seem to get it right.

AU: reincarnation, soulmate!harry, prince!harry, and assistant!y/n

Sorry for taking too long to update this series, Tumblr fucked me up and deleted half a chapter. It would be the last time I wrote directly on Tumblr I’m sure of it. I hope you guys enjoy this, questions are very welcomed. Paragraph in italic took place in the previous life.

Chapter 2 - The Assistant: Harry’s got a new assistant, and Y/N’s got a new job.

.

Y/N didn’t expect her first day at work to start with her head down the toilet. It must have been the milk she’d drunk earlier that morning, or maybe the microwaved dinner from last night. But it didn’t matter now, the important thing was that her famous boss, whom she’d never actually met before, was waiting in the recording studio, while she was throwing up in this bathroom stall.

With her head spinning in circle, however, Y/N could still make out a knock on the door.

“Hey, ya alright?”

She should’ve recognized that British voice because she’d spent the entire night before watching his interviews on Youtube to get to know him better. Nonetheless, in a situation like this her memory was helpless.

“I’m fine…Thanks.” Y/N groaned as she flushed the toilet before rising up from the floor, feeling a bit better but still quite unsure.

“Sir, I don’t think you should be in the ladies’ room,” she told the man on the other side of the door.

And to her surprise, he replied with a laugh. “That’s why I’m in the men’s room.”

Y/N’s bloodshot eyes grew wide the moment she heard those words. She pulled the door open in an instant, then almost fell backward when she found Harry Styles standing right in front of her. Harry gave the girl a friendly smile, yet when he opened his mouth to speak, she immediately turned away and got back down on her knees to empty her stomach in the toilet bowl.

In the haze, Y/N could feel Harry kneeling down by her side, gently holding her hair back so it wouldn’t get in the way. It was a lovely gesture, she supposed, but he still had no idea she was his new assistant.

And the only thing on Y/N’s mind at this very moment was, her first day of this job could also be her last.

...

The girl in black carefully followed the path leading through the dark woods, with only the light from her oil lantern guiding the way. She was heading home alone, like a shadow under the moonlight, trying not to make a sound as her heart was pounding like a drum. 

The young maiden could’ve got home early that night as she was so close to her village already. However, it was one of her good habits that became her obstacle — she never walked away from someone in need.

“Hello?! Can anyone hear me? I’m trapped!”

Her feet rooted to the ground when she heard the cry for help. The girl already had her guards up, ready to fight for her life, but there was no one around! At first, she thought it was just her imagination, then the desperate call repeated, louder this time. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from a hole on the ground a few steps away from where she stood. 

“Who’s there?” she asked, carefully approaching the victim. Holding up her lantern above the hollow to get a better look of whoever was down there. When the light flashed across the person’s face, the girl was so terrified that she backed away from the edge.

“Hello, thank God! Could you please get me out of here?” begged the hopeless young man as he looked up. But this girl knew for certain he wasn’t just a man.

“You’re...You’re the Prince!”

“You recognize me?” Prince Edward smiled widely as he put both hands on his hips and heaved out a sigh of relief. “Great! Now could you please help me out?”

“No.”

Her answer came as a shock to the heir of the throne.

“Pardon?” he raised an eyebrow for no one had ever talked to him that way beside his father - the King.

“I said: No. In fact, I’d let you die down there, so your awful father could learn how it feels to lose someone he loves,” she told him bitterly. “I’m sure you’ve heard of how he burnt down villages because of those rumors about witches. He murdered my entire family. And now you’ve got the audacity to beg for my help?”

“Hey, hey, hey, lady, I don’t know who you are but I swear I knew nothing about those villages. I’m truly sorry about your family, and if you could help me I’d pay you as much as you’d like.”

“I don’t think you could afford it, unless you knew how to resurrect the dead!” The girl turned to walk away, ignoring the young Prince’s pleading from down below. It was getting late and she’d got no time for a conversation with a dying man. However, something occurred to her when she was finally far enough to not hear his voice anymore. 

If she left him there to die, she’d be just as bad as his father. 

“Your Highness.”

Edward shot his face up and grinned widely when he saw the girl had returned. She rolled her eyes skyward then sighed heavily before laying out her bargain, “if I save your life, would you do me a favor?”

“Anything!” Edward spoke too soon, after that he realized how risky this agreement could turn out to be and quickly added, “wait, if you want to turn me against my father, then I’m sorry I cannot give you my word!”

What he said made the girl laugh, then she assured him, “you don’t have to betray your family or your country, I promise. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes.” Edward nodded his head in response to the stranger standing on the edge of the hollow, holding his life in the palm of her hand. Now he could only count on his own judgement that she wasn’t going to kill him once he got out of there.

...

“How is she?” Harry asked the doctor once the man walked out of the room but Y/N wasn’t with him.

“She’s going to be fine,” the middle-aged man said with a gentle smile, making Harry feel more at ease. “The girl got food poisoning, not very serious so I’ve already given her some pills. Let her stay here for an hour to see if she feels any better then she can go.”

“Thank you, doctor” replied Harry as he shook the doctor’s hand then watched the man walk away. He intended to go into the room to check on his new assistant immediately, but the moment he grabbed the doorknob, the phone in his pocket buzzed to notify him of a new text. It was from his manager Jeffrey.

Hey are you alright?

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he read the question.

I’m fine, I’m still at the hospital with Y/N. Why?

You haven’t seen the pictures?

What pictures?

Jeff left Harry’s latest message at seen so Harry had to find out on his own. He immediately went on social media (it’s sad how this was his first guess) and the first thing he saw was an article published by an online magazine with all the pictures of his girlfriend making out with another man.

Lillie Xander caught kissing a new man!!! Yikes! How does Harry Styles feel about this?

For that one second, Harry almost stopped breathing. He wished those photos hadn’t been real, that they’d been photoshopped and his girlfriend of two years hadn’t cheated on him. However, reality sucked, and he felt like a fool.

Harry was still staring at his phone when the door flew open all of a sudden and slammed with hard against his left arm! The girl behind it immediately mumbled her apology and she looked more frightened when she recognized who he was.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be lying down?” Harry asked Y/N while rubbing the sore spot on his arm, making his new assistant feel extremely guilty. Not only had she made him drive her all the way to the hospital and thrown up on his expensive jacket, but she also slammed him with the door. She was so in trouble after this.

“Am I fired?” she stared at him with her sad puppy dog eyes, and it took Harry a moment to take it in before he burst into laughter.

“You honestly thought I was going to fire you for being sick on your first day?”

“And for destroying your Gucci jacket and not being able to buy another one for you even if I sold myself.” She rolled her eyes backward and groaned out loud. “What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t get anything right.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Harry caught her by surprise when he grabbed her arms, holding her firmly place so she would look at his face. 

Y/N turned to stone the very moment she made eye-contact with her new boss. Suddenly, everything started playing in slow-motion as she fell into the loop of his intense stare. Despite having already seen plenty photos of this man, Y/N was certain that wasn’t the reason why she found those green eyes of his so familiar. She had seen them somewhere else before she just couldn’t remember where exactly. It wasn’t just a feeling that ‘I met you once on the street but I remember you because you’re gorgeous’, it was more like ‘we don’t know each other but I feel like we have for a really long time.’ 

“Have we met?” Harry was the one to ask that question, and not Y/N, which shocked her even more when she fell out of the maze that was his eyes.

“I would’ve remembered, trust me,” she said, chuckling dryly as her eyes stayed on his.

“Weird...” Harry mumbled to himself, shaking his head then immediately put on a smile. “Well, don’t worry, you’re not fired, and I’m not mad at you for anything that’s happened this morning.”

For some reason she couldn’t explain, Y/N knew that smile wasn’t sincere. There was something bothering this man and he was just so used covering up his emotions that he did it like a pro. He couldn’t fool her though.

However, she didn’t say anything about that, and just smiled back at him. “Thank you so much. I can’t lose another job again.”

“Again?” Harry looked at her, quite amused. “You’ve been fired before.”

“I wasn’t fired, I quit my last job...But I’m sure you’re not interested in my boring life stories.”

“I am interested,” he told her without pause. “Why don’t we go somewhere later and you tell me about that awful job that you quit? If we’re going to be working close to each other, we should get to know each other, right?”

“You sure? Because in the schedule Jeff sent me—”

“That’s my schedule, I can cancel any plan I want. Jeff’s my manager, not my boss.”

“But he’s mine.”

Harry chuckled while shaking his head no. “He’s not, I am. He can’t fire you unless I tell him too.”

“That’s powerful.” The words slipped out before Y/N can stop her lips. “Shit...did I just say that?”

Her face scrunched up in embarrassment when Harry let out a slight laugh. “It’s okay, I like you already. I think we’re gonna be a good team.”

“Hope so.” Y/N looked up as her eyes sparkled with joy. “Shall we go now?”

“No, the doctor told me to keep you here for an hour.”

“I’m fine now, just ignore the doctor.” She snorted then just walked right past Harry to the nearest exit. 

He stayed at the same spot, watching her marching down the hall with his mouth agape, then when she noticed he wasn’t following her she stopped and turned around, looking all confused.

“What are you waiting for? Hurry!”

Harry snapped back to reality as he heard the sound of her voice. Then he shrugged off the foreign feeling in the pit of his stomach and ran forward to catch up with his new assistant. 

[mamabearcat]

NaLu Fic Recs - SFW

Sooo, there was a bit of chat on the NaLu Discord about fic recs. I have read a lot of fan fiction; for a while there I had terrible insomnia, and I would go to bed, read fics all night, and then get up and start my day. 

But now you get the benefits! Here are just some of my favourite SFW fanfics. All these are completed fics on Fanfiction.net I have heaps of favourites that aren’t completed, and may never be, which is a little heartbreaking, but just the nature of the beast I guess. 

But, I digress - behold, a list of SFW fanfics for your viewing pleasure...and remember, if you read, give the writer some review love.

One Shots

Just Fine by Sofiesticated:  After being tortured for months, Lucy has begun to isolate herself, trying to assure people (mostly herself) that she's fine, but a certain Dragon Slayer doesn't give up on her so easy. Rated: Fiction M - English - Hurt/Comfort/Romance - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] - Words: 1,986

Play List by GeminiMab:  Every one loves new tech toys right? Well Lucy does! Unfortunately so does her team. Lots of friendly feels and a few sweet moments. Just a fun story that's worth a read for a laugh- Rated for cursing *I do not own FT or any of the other copyrighted material found within. I only own my plot line and insanity* ****Mostly placed Post Manga but could go anywhere after Tartarus**** Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Friendship - Team Natsu - Words: 6,328

Gift of the Sea by notjustanyfangirl:  Natsu is intrigued by the sad blonde girl that comes to the pier every evening, and decides to do something about it. An unexpected friendship leads to unexpected revelations. Mermaid!AU Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Friendship - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] - Words: 6,458

Are You Still Watching by HerFairy:  Lucy needs a break from her overbearing father. What better way than watching Netflix over someone's shoulder at the library?Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor/Romance - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] - Words: 2,290

Love Me Now by Chikachoo:  Lucy had been through many bad experiences but this time almost broke her. She had never wished for the presence of a certain dragon slayer, with hair the colour of cherry blossoms, more than now. Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] - Words: 5,439

Cops and Robbers by Rivendel101:  Lucy wakes up to the sound of running water, a blinding light, and a crick in her neck that tells her she had a really rough night. Though, she probably could have deduced that without the pain, considering she's pretty sure she fell asleep in a bathtub last night, according to her slightly hazy memory. (Rated for language and inappropriate thoughts by Lucy) Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Romance - [Natsu D., Lucy H.] - Words: 3,120

One Other Thing by xxSiLvErDrAgOnxx:  After Chapter 489 - Natsu and Lucy are sent home after their battle with August for some R&R because of an injury Lucy sustained, while the Guild plans its next move. Lucy's stubbornness brings out Natsu's frustration which only serves to irritate Lucy when she misunderstands the intention behind his words. Rated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy/Romance - Lucy H., Natsu D. - Words: 4,908

Together by SolidScriptJess:  "So don't you ever for a second think that I would wish to trade you. You're the light of my life you aggravating, irritating, loud, weird, caring, selfless, strong, beautiful girl. I love you so much." NaLu one-shot in which they've just moved in together and Lucy is trying to come to terms with the fact that Natsu had been engaged to Lisanna before he met her.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance/Angst - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] Lisanna S. - Words: 2,814

Eye of the Beholder by madartiste:  Natsu realizes something about Lucy after seeing her in her old habitat. Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - [Natsu D., Lucy H.] Erza S., Gray F. - Words: 2,915

Plan H by Toxineena:  So far, Erza and Gray were on plan H; H for hot spring. Needless to say, Natsu and Lucy hadn't been very cooperative. Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Natsu D., Lucy H. - Words: 4,834

Plan I by Toxineena: It was like his heart was just saying: Her. It has to be her, and no one else. Sequel to Plan H. Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Natsu D., Lucy H. - Words: 6,911

Thoughts from the Bathroom Sink by Tonoxic:  It felt kind of weird looking at her work from between his legs. Funny thing is he didn't even come here for this. In fact, he didn't even know she could do this. He was going to wait till morning for that but as soon as he had stepped into town, his mind instantly thought "I wonder what Lucy is doing?"  Rated T for angry Lucy's swearing.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Lucy H., Natsu D. - Words: 2,433

Snow White and the Fairy Tail Mages by InLoveWithFairyTail:  The Fairy Tail gang decides to act out the classic story of Snow White! And it went well! Hahaha, no. No, it didn't. If it did, what would be the point of this story? "Our bedroom door's open!" "Wait one f***ing minute, we sleep in the same BEDROOM?" Rated T for swearing. One-shot.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Parody - Team Natsu, Laxus D., Mirajane S. - Words: 4,276

Sausages – A Breakfast Story by Aryndiel:  Lucy needs some cheering up, and Natsu is just the man for the job. But the advice he's getting seems a bit strange. Will breakfast really help? More importantly, is Gray's face going to freeze that way? Why did Bixlow just spit his beer? What's wrong with Romeo? And will Gajeel ever find the answer to the question everyone's wondering about?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] - Words: 3,915

 Chapter Fics

Winter’s Blight by McSquidster:  Natsu had trusted Gray with Lucy's life, and the raven haired boy would be damned if he let their captors do anything to her. Nuclear Winter AU. Warnings: Mentions of rape and cannibalism.Rated: Fiction T - English - Suspense/Hurt/Comfort - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] Gray F., Jackal - Chapters: 5 - Words: 43,430  

Cops and Writers by jrhcomet:  Lucy Heartfilia, accomplished author, is in for the ride of her life when she teams up with Detective Natsu Dragneel to solve cases around Magnolia. (Castle with Fairy Tail) Please review, this is my first fanfic and tips are always welcome! I do not own Fairy Tail! Only this plot is mine. Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor - Lucy H., Natsu D. - Chapters: 23 - Words: 31,509

Life in Technicolour by stopnatsu:  Lucy Heartfilia has grown accustomed to seeing life in black and white, but she dreams of a more colorful world. Desperate to find where she belongs, she leaves her life behind, intent on fulfilling her childhood dream of seeing a rainbow. Will she ever be able to see the beautiful colors of legend? And is it true you can only see them once you meet your soulmate? Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Romance - Lucy H., Natsu D. - Chapters: 29 - Words: 92,011

Virtual Flames by MizzyPlatinum:  A blossoming internet (Tumblr) friendship soon develops into something more. Nalu. AU. Slice of life. Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - [Natsu D., Lucy H.] - Chapters: 89 - Words: 241,288

Begin Again by waiting-for-you443:  When journalist Lucy Heartfilia is welcomed home from work by her boyfriend's fists, she does what most would do: calls the police. But when your psycho ex-boyfriend is a cop, things get complicated. It'll take a pair of rookie detectives, a journalist, and the entire Magnolia Police Department to ensure Lucy's safety. Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Suspense - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] Gajeel R., Team Natsu - Chapters: 11 - Words: 51,737

Big Sister Lucy by Kayla the kawaii gurl:  All she wanted to do was help young girls follow their dreams and find themselves. She never thought that she would be gaining a little sister and much, much more. AU NaLu! Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Lucy H., Natsu D. - Chapters: 25 - Words: 82,041

What Bloomed in the Heart of Winter by starmini:  A chance encounter with the Maiden of Spring sets off a chain of events that threaten the order of the seasons and the fate of the world. The Lord of Winter is willing to plunge the world into chaos for the sake of his desire. Yet, the Lord of Summer and the Maiden of Autumn will fight to stop him. Rated: Fiction K - English - Romance/Drama - Erza S., Gray F., Lucy H., Natsu D. - Chapters: 11 - Words: 28,685

One of the Boys by stopnatsu:  "I love you, Natsu," Lucy had whispered. Natsu smiled and replied, "I love you too, Luce. Like a brother." Nalu AU in which Lucy and Natsu are childhood best friends. Oh, and she's desperately in love with him, but he's too dumb to notice. After leaving to attend an all-girls' prep school, she returns, a changed woman. But will he even notice? Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Drama - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] - Chapters: 18 - Words: 54,533

Warm Feelings by Checkmate-13: Fairy Tail is forced into a team building activity that revolves around anonymous compliments. The consequences of these messages may have a bigger impact than they bargained for. NaLu. Gruvia.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Romance - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] [Gray F., Juvia L.] - Chapters: 12 - Words: 37,794

Salamander and the Deadly Flu by Hejmdal:  Because given the right circumstances even the hyperactive dragon slayer can become an innocent victim to the "dangerous" disease. Rated for minor swearing (NaLu). Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - [Natsu D., Lucy H.] - Chapters: 25 - Words: 84,054

Possession by HawkofNavarre:  She didn't belong to him...yet. Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Friendship - [Lucy H., Natsu D.] - Chapters: 20 - Words: 85,998