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onestepbackwards · 2 years ago

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Love That Bites

I’ve been playing Symphony of the Night randomized for months, and rewatching some stuff from the anime, this series has had me in a choke hold. I’ve had a thing for Dracula for Y E A R S and the first season of the anime did not help (Even if I have my gripes with that adaption). Unfortunately, there is very little Dracula x reader content out there, and I can only reread it all so many times. o(TヘTo) I also started writing this a bit before the Dead Cells x Castlevania crossover was announced, so that only fueled my motivation to write this. This series is also going to ignore some stuff in canon like some stuff in Aria and Dawn of Sorrow. Canon is just a sandbox and I’m making a castle. I hope you all enjoy the start of this new series! This is part 1, and is mostly setting up the scene for the story. Hopefully there will be more to come! Apologies if this chapter is a little messy. (❁´◡`❁) Summary: When you decide to take a vacation to get away from a toxic home life, you just expect a few days of relaxation to revitalize yourself. However, you didn’t exactly plan on finding the castle belonging to your family’s arch nemesis. Especially when he should be dead for the next century... CW: Reader is a Belmont, Anxiety and anxiety attacks, brief mentions of past trauma, mentions of toxic home life, increasing stress, death mention, paranoia and confusion, you’re safe though don’t worry. Word Count: 6016 words! First: Here! Next: Link

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All you had wanted was a break.

You wanted, no, needed to get away for a week. Simply put, your home-life had become unbearable once again.

Normally, you at least tried to plan ahead when you wanted to take a break away from home, but things had been piling up. You knew if you didn’t get out, you were going to crash and burn again, and that was the last thing you needed as of late.

So early in the morning, before anyone else in your home had awoken, you packed a few small bags, and loaded up your vehicle.

You left a note on your kitchen counter for your relatives, and quickly left. If you thought too much about it, you’d start feeling guilty again, and stay behind.

Thankfully, the quiet car drive had been a welcome one, every mile further away from your home only seemed to lift the stress off of you little by little.

It took a while to get to your destination, but a few hours were nothing to you, considering your profession.

When you have to go on hunts across the country, and occasionally around the world, you learn to get used to the long travel time.

The trip to your current destination had always been worth it, though.

It was a small cabin out in the countryside. Your family had purchased some of the land a few generations ago, and it was a sort of vacation spot, at least until recent years.

Not many family members knew about the property anymore. Your late mother had been one of the few that knew about it, and had still used it. When she was alive, she took you often as a kid to get a break from your training.

You had nothing but fond memories of the place.

The little cabin and surrounding wildlife had become more than just a place with fond memories as of late. It had also become a safe haven.

When things got rough at home, it became a habit to take off to said little safe haven.

So here you were.

The cabin was the same as you had left it, not that it ever changed.

You walked through the overgrowth on the porch, and pushed through the front door. The inside was just as old and dusty as you remembered leaving it a few months ago.

Despite the layer of dust, it still looked well kept and comfortable. Just like you liked it.

Lugging your bags through the entry, you let out a sigh as you made your way through the small cottage. When you entered the living area, you unenthusiastically dropped your bags to the floor, and fell onto the couch with a loud sigh.

You didn’t do anything for a while, simply staring at the ceiling as you sat, your thoughts fast, but your head feeling empty. Overwhelmed, but dissociative.

It was like this every time you came here, but you could finally breathe.

No yelling, no arguing, no working your days away with chores at a house. If you were lucky, there wouldn’t even be hunting involved. Just pure, unbothered peace.

A scoff left your mouth at the thought.

“Some Belmont I am…” You muttered to yourself. What Belmont doesn’t like going hunting? Your aunts and uncles probably still jump at the chance to do so, and your step family would already be out the door with weapons in hand.

You didn’t hate hunting. But nowadays, you were beginning to dread doing it.

Either you were hunting all the time, especially on trips that were long and hard on you, or you were at home, forced to play housekeeper half the time. Anytime there was a hint of a possibility of a monster near your city, your step family took the job. They essentially barred you from doing anything nearby, only having you do the tedious jobs.

As much as you liked traveling, you didn’t like doing it for a hunt that might be a bust half the time. When you arrived at your destination, either the monster was long gone, never existed, or was already killed by a local hunter instead.

It’s become a drain on your personal finances, and a drain on your energy. Especially since you were always ‘expected’ to come right back home. Didn't matter if you were an adult, they needed their precious servant back.

“What a joke…” You huffed, before closing your eyes.

Attempting to relax, you took in the scent of the area, listening to the slight breeze and wildlife from outside.

There was so much going on in your head, but the cabin was already helping, you could tell. Despite your thoughts, your body was already beginning to lose tension.

This was just what you needed.

You waited a few more minutes, taking everything in, before you got to work. Getting up, you grabbed your few bags, and hauled them off into a bedroom. You dropped them on the bed, and moved to the closet, looking for something specific you had left behind years ago.

Opening the closet, you pulled out an old backpack, and brought it to your bed. With memorized ease, you opened your bags, and tossed a few things in.

It’s not like you’d need a lot for a hike. Just a few snacks, some water, and a few weapons just to be safe.

You weren’t exactly afraid of monsters showing up, but being who you were, you couldn't afford to be too careful.

Chances were you’d be fine. Monsters were incredibly rare on this stretch of land, and the wildlife tended to keep to itself.

You paused though when you gripped The Vampire Killer. The whip that had been in your family for centuries.

Would you really need this for a hike to clear your head…?

You stared at it for a moment, battling with yourself in your head. You took it just about everywhere. Not so much for hunting, but so it wouldn’t end up in anyone else's hands.

Eventually, you came to a decision, and placed the whip to the side. The whip was safe here at the cabin, and you had several weapons. It would be fine. You would be fine.

With your mind made, you finished packing your backpack, and slung it over your shoulder, before heading for the front door of the cabin.

The door locked shut behind you, and you set out in a random direction. It was still early in the day, just around noon, you figured you could go out by the mountains. You raised a hand up to the sky, wincing at the light.

“The shade should be perfect to come back this way by 5….” you mumbled, and got to walking.

You wouldn’t be out longer than a few hours. By the time you got back, you could make something light to eat, and catch up on some reading, if you were lucky.

Wandering around, you followed a few paths, before turning around the base of a smaller mountain. You knew the area well, but still enjoyed venturing out and exploring.

Especially as of late, the beauty and nature of the area was an amazing way to clear your head and de-stress.

The walk was nice, and you swore you remember a lake being in the area. If you could find it once again, it would be the perfect place for a picnic.

It had only been an hour of walking when you turned the corner of the base of the mountain, where you normally would have been able to see the lake.

Something felt a little bit off, though. Despite the weather forecast being clear for the day, the sky seemed to be clouding up the further you walked. Then the further you walked, the more on edge you felt. It was as if you were somewhere you weren’t supposed to be.

However, instead of a beautiful lake surrounded by a forest and mountain range, you were met with a sight that made your stomach drop.

Out across the edge of the lake, just past the tree line, was a humongous castle. One you distinctly remember not being there in the first place.

Lightning occasionally flashed around it, and you could hear the thunder in the distance. Despite how dreadful the dark clouds looked above it, the weather almost seemed deadly calm. It faintly reminded you of the eye of a storm.

You felt sweat beginning to form all over you, and you swallowed thickly as you stared at the ominous structure. Your hands shook, and you were finding it hard to stand.

Dracula’s Castle.

There was no doubt about it. You had learned about this castle your whole childhood, and understood what its presence meant.

Sitting down on the grass beneath you, you took a shaky breath. If you stood any longer, you were worried you would faint.

How was this possible? Dracula hadn’t been vanquished for that long…. Right before you had been born, if you remember correctly.

Has someone resurrected him? Or was someone trying to take his power? You had heard of both scenarios happening, and you weren’t sure which one you wanted to be true.

Hell, you knew it was possible for Dracula to be revived just a few years after being defeated, if someone powerful enough wanted to.

But if you were being honest… You hadn’t expected Dracula to be back in your lifetime, or at least in your youth. You had somewhat hoped it wouldn’t be your problem.

You didn’t exactly want the fate of the world resting on your shoulders.

It had been something you had feared since you learned the truth of your lineage. That Dracula may very well come back, and you, or your future kids may need to step up and defeat him. That you might have to be the one to save the world from destruction.

Licking your lips, you tightly gripped a strap from your backpack till your knuckles went white, and looked up at the sky.

“Hey God? Why me?” you asked, genuinely serious.

As expected, you received no answer, just another flash of lightning and clap of thunder in the distance.

Your eyes then landed back on the castle, and you let out a nervous sigh.

You knew you needed to check it out, despite the feeling of dread in your gut.

As you got up though, a sudden thought struck the back of your mind.

The Vampire Killer was back at your cabin, almost an hour away.

Groaning loudly, you couldn’t help but smack your face in frustration.

“Of course! The one time, the one time-! Of all times to have decided not to take the whip with me!” You cursed, frustration building in your chest alongside the anxiety.

Yeah, you could go back to the cabin and go grab it, but that would be wasting possible precious time.

“Okay… So, it’s not the end of the world… Yet… People have defeated Dracula before without the Vampire Killer. Not a big deal.”

It was a big deal, to you at least. This was huge. Dracula could be planning to attack humanity at any moment, and the best weapon against him was sitting snugly on your pillow back at your cabin.

You sighed.

Still, as you watched the castle in the distance, you couldn’t help but notice something odd.

You didn’t see any monsters. Hell, you didn’t see any bodies outside the front of the gate. Didn’t Dracula have monsters all over his castle, inside and out? Not to mention all the stories you had heard, involving impaled corpses that tended to sit outside the castle every other resurrection.

It was quiet.

No monsters. No bodies. No Dracula.

It made you feel sick, like you were waiting for something to attack you from just around the corner.

But the attack had yet to come.

You weighed in your options. Could you really just leave and go back to the cabin? How were you so sure nothing was watching you right now? What if something followed you back, and found your cabin?

Another thought suddenly hit you like a freight train.

Just how long had Dracula’s castle been here?

It has been over a year since you last checked out this lake. The castle was in the perfect place to remain hidden from view at the cabin, being behind a mountain. The castle could have been here this whole time, just an hour away from you, and you were never the wiser.

The very thought sent chills throughout your body. Just how close to death had you been this whole time?

You felt like you were going to hurl.

As much as you want to leave, and puke from the overwhelming emotions, you force yourself to stand your ground.

You had to investigate.

It wasn’t up for debate. As much as you would like to throw excuse after excuse until it was nighttime, you did not have that luxury.

You came to a decision.

The most important thing you could do right now is head into the castle and check things out. You had some weapons on you, so it wasn’t like you were going in defenseless.

If push comes to shove, you could always make a hasty retreat, and head back over to the cabin. There you could grab The Vampire Killer, and return after regaining your strength.

Was it the best plan? No. But right now, any plan was better than nothing.

A thought passed through your mind as you took a step forward.

Should you call for backup?

You had your father and step brothers, and even your uncle and aunt. Quick, you pulled your phone out, only to sigh in frustration.

“No service. Figures.”

You should have guessed. There was just barely usable service at the cabin, why would there be any out here in the wilderness?

Looks like it was all you. No help was coming for you.

If you died… You doubted help would come for you as well. Your family would probably only come looking for your equipment, if anything. The chances of them looking for you, especially here at this lake, were slim. There wasn’t a question in your mind that they would miss the castle.

Just like you had for who knows how long.

Gripping your phone for a moment, you sighed, before shoving it back in your pocket.

Calling was no use. It really was just you against the forces of evil.

“So much for an uneventful, relaxing trip…” You mumbled, and reached into your bag. Pulling out a dagger, you gripped in your hand for a few moments, before finally heading towards the castle.

The walk towards the looming castle wasn’t as long as you had hoped it to be. All the while, it also felt like it lasted an eternity.

Must have been the impending doom and anxiety, which only increased with each step you took.

Why hadn’t you come across any enemies? So far, just like you had seen from afar, there were no monsters.

Even as you quickly approached the gate, you saw no adversaries. No undead armies. No wolf men ready to tear you to shreds.

Just an old, rusted looking gate.

You couldn’t help but wonder, what was Dracula’s game? In nearly every journal you’ve read with family members in the past hunting him down, his castle is filled with enemies of all sorts. Even at the gate, monsters are usually ready to attack.

Yet, it was quiet.

For a few moments, you could only stare. It was now or never, and you couldn’t exactly ignore the fate of the world.

Gently pushing at the massive iron looking gate, you were surprised at how easy the door gave way. It slowly opened with a loud squeak of the hinges, stopping just a few feet forward, waiting for more force to push it forward.

You were a bit dumbstruck.

Was it really that easy? You weren’t going to lie, when you approached the gate, you assumed you may have to find another way in, or some obtuse way of opening it.

Peeking your head in, your eyes widened at just how… empty the courtyard was.

There were a surprising number of plants and trees, sure, but other than that? The only sign of movement there was, was the plants moving from the wind.

It was ominous. The lack of any life, or undead rather, made your hair stand on end.

A low rumble of thunder went off above you, and you looked up at the dark sky. Despite being early in the afternoon, it felt so late with the clouds surrounding the area like this.

It was fitting, you supposed.

Steeling your nerves, you pushed the door open further, and stepped into the courtyard. Each step had you on edge, with you anticipating an attack that never seemed to come.

That didn’t stop you from keeping an eye out though.

Approaching the door to the castle was more or less the same as the gate. Though it wasn’t any less daunting. The doors towered over you all the same, and did nothing to quell your nerves.

“...Should I knock?” You mumbled to yourself, before shaking your head.

“Stupid… It’s a Vampire Lord’s castle, who of which I’m supposed to vanquish. ‘Should I knock…’ what a dumb question.” you grumbled to yourself. Though at this point, it felt like you were stalling.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open, fully expecting an attack.

But once again, you were completely surprised to see an empty entry hall.

“...Now this is definitely weird.” You mumbled, carefully eyeing the long, dimly lit hall.

You pushed past the door, and let out a small squeak as it shut behind you. The grip you had on your dagger tightened, and you shuddered at how the temperature seemed to drop.

It was cold. Unnaturally cold.

The air was stagnant, and hardly cold itself, but something about the area was nearly sapping your warmth. Was it your nerves? Or just some aspect of the castle being supernatural?

Perhaps it was the strange nerve wracking loneliness that seemed to echo with each step down the hall?

Either way, something was not right about the castle, and it wasn’t just the fact it was a being of Chaos.

It was the fact that the further you walked in, you were encountering nothing.

The courtyard and entry all weren’t the only empty areas. The large open room you entered after that had also been empty, along with the hallway and stairway after that.

Not a monster in sight.

There wasn’t even any sign of life in this place. Sure, you hadn’t encountered anything yet, but every room you entered, every hall you cleared…

It was as if nothing was here in the castle.

You weren’t going to lie. You were starting to have doubts about this being Dracula’s castle.

But at the same time, there wasn’t any explanation for this place otherwise.

Not to mention, the air in this place wasn’t normal. There was an underlying power in the air. The same kind that made your hair stand on end. The same kind that made the air feel colder than what it was.

What castle could feel this way, besides Castlevania?

“Still… none of this makes any sense…” you mumbled to yourself as you cleared another empty room. At this point, you were both extremely nervous, and incredibly frustrated.

You had combed through several parts of the castle at this point. It was getting late, and you were getting nowhere. Already you had been through what looked like an art gallery, passed by a library, and pressed on through a giant dining hall.

As you neared another set of stairs, you could only run a hand through your hair in irritation and stress.

Despite how much ground you have covered, you found no sign of this place being lived in. You only had so much daylight left, and you were beginning to feel like you were investigating a weird, lost cause.

Still, you persevered. If there was a throne room, you at least wanted to check it out. If you didn’t find anything, you would come back another day more thoroughly prepared.

And if you found something? Well…

You could hope for the best. Maybe if Dracula is there, he would be weak? It would make sense, given the lack of life and monsters in the castle. If he was weak, you wouldn’t have to worry about not having your whip, you hoped.

If not… Well, you could run away. Despite the lack of weapons on you, you still had a few tricks up your sleeve. You didn’t live this long as a monster hunter without learning a few ways to give yourself a back door for a fast escape.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too hard to figure out where the throne room was. It tended to be high up in the castle in nearly every iteration your ancestors talked about in journals.

Still, as you came across a final staircase leading up to a separate tower of the castle, you couldn’t help but be more on edge than ever before. The clouds circled above you, occasionally cracking off lightning and thunder uncomfortably close by.

“It really feels like I’m about to be in some final showdown from a movie…” You mumbled as you approached the door, your dread pooling in your gut.

However, much like the growing trend of this castle, you noticed something odd.

The door to the throne room was open, and creaked on its hinges. It was as if it was half hazardly pushed away by someone running out the room.

You briefly wondered if that was a bad sign or not.

Going against the little voice in your head telling you to turn back, you pushed past the door and walked in.

The first thing you took note of, despite the poor lighting from outside, you could see just how huge the room was. You could easily imagine it being big enough for a battle, or a council meeting.

Then there were the giant windows that occasionally lit up the room whenever lightning strikes. Some were even open, clacking open and closed from the wind outside, said wind occasionally pushing the curtains back every so often.

It certainly added to the creepy atmosphere.

Finally, there were the two most glaringly obvious parts of the throne room. The giant throne on top of a set of stairs, and what looked to be a statue kneeling in front of it.

You could only stare in silence. The tension you felt in the air was so thick, you felt it could snap at any moment like a stretched out rubber band.

Your curiosity pushed over your fear, and you found yourself walking forward. Each footstep echoing through the chamber, the sounds of your steps bouncing off the walls.

Coming to a stop a few feet away from the throne and the statue, you couldn’t help but feel… odd at the sight. A mixture of fear, dread, curiosity and intrigue turned in your gut as you stared down the statue.

It was Dracula.

Or at least… You thought it was Dracula.

The statue was big, despite the figure kneeling on one knee in what looked like pain or exhaustion. A hand gripping his gut, while another reached forward, clawed fingers pointing towards you. A cloak seemed to wrap around his body, but it hardly hid his large form.

The head was… a lot of things.

His face was hauntingly beautiful, much like you had come to expect from vampires. What was his hair seemed to beautifully frame his face, with his mustache and beard only adding to the charm.

However, under the beauty, you could see traces of what he really was. A monster.

Despite his handsome features, his face was contorted in what looked like a pained snarl. His fangs were bursting forth, large and ready to pierce.

And his eyes… His eyes were wide open, the whites a darker shade than the iris, which only added to his supernatural and inhuman look.

The room was silent, and you felt your blood run cold, despite the sweat on your skin.

It was Dracula, no doubt about it, but…

Why was he a statue?

Tentatively, you took a few steps forward, but still kept your distance.

You studied the statue a bit more, rounding it cautiously. After a few moments, you carefully stepped forward, and poked the shoulder, before jumping backwards.

Pure stone.

Your hands fell to your sides. It really was just a statue.

“Unbelievable.” You mumbled, confusion and disbelief clear in your voice.

Just what was going on? The castle was here, so in theory, so should Dracula. Not a statue of the guy.

“Unless…” You murmured, putting a hand along your chin in thought.

Dracula being turned to stone somehow… Perhaps that was the reason the castle was like this?

It made sense, the more you thought about it.

“It’s as if the whole castle is asleep…”

If Dracula was technically alive, but out of commission, then it would make sense. Though if you were being honest with yourself, you were still surprised you weren’t seeing some of his more powerful supporters. Surely you would have at least seen Death by now?

The deity was loyal to its master, appearing even when Dracula had not always been in control. So where was Death, or any other powerful monsters that no doubt would support the Lord?

Perhaps being petrified like this, also cut ties with his presence to those powerful monsters? He simply seemed asleep to them, or not fully revived. If he wasn’t fully around, or at least enough for any of his powerful generals to sense him, they simply did not know he was here.

Other than that, it was the only explanation you had.

It still made you nervous and uncomfortable though.

You continued to eye the statue. Was Dracula dead, or was he aware? What had happened to lead to this?

Thinking hard, you tried to remember everything your mother had told you about the last time Dracula had appeared. It was a long time ago, and your mother had only heard about what had happened from another family member.

Didn’t she mention that the Belmont who defeated Dracula last say something about a curse?

You cursed your poor memory, which had been worsening with your own health as of late. Shaking your head with a sigh, your frown deepened.

Still, even if you didn’t know all the details, this could easily have something to do with said curse you were briefly told about all those years ago.

Biting your lip, you placed your hands on your hips, unsure what to do, or where to go from here.

Obviously no one was in danger at the moment, even if you still felt on edge. Dracula was very much contained here in the castle.

But that left you with a bunch of different thoughts rushing through your mind.

You couldn’t really ask for a better spot for the castle to be, if you were being honest. It was hidden, right along private property. Chances of civilians finding it were slim. The less innocent lives you had to worry about, even if it was idiots trespassing, the better.

Then there was how to deal with the problem at hand. What do you do with the statue and the castle? You couldn’t just leave Dracula here could you?

“If I had only brought the Vampire Killer…” You mumbled under your breath, nails digging into your palms.

The whip was ancient, but incredibly powerful. It was strong enough to break down stone. You could finish the job tonight, if you wanted to make the trek…

But would that be wise?

…Did you even have much of a choice?

It’s not like you can actually do anything right now, anyway. Your dagger and other weapons can’t cut through stone. Not like your whip could. You would be here for hours.

You let out a sigh and rubbed your temples, exhaustion creeping up on you. Sure, you hadn’t fought anything, but this whole ordeal was adding onto your already existing stress.

Running a hand through your hair, and looking out a nearby window, another thought ran through your mind.

What if you revived him by destroying the stone? Even if he was cursed, you weren’t aware of the specifics, and you didn’t want to be the one to accidentally doom the world by trying to ‘save’ it.

Feeling your hair stand on end again, you quickly glanced back at the statue. Even if he was on his knees, he was still level height with you.

And it felt like he was looking right at you.

The thought made you very anxious. Was he alive? Or even aware you were standing right in front of him? A Belmont, debating on how to end his life?

Suddenly, the very thought made your stomach sour.

“I… Need to go. I need to leave.” You said, finally making a decision. You needed to get away from here.

You were not equipped to handle this.

A fight to save the world? Sure, you could improvise.

But whatever was happening here? No. No way.

Despite your conscious telling you to stay and deal with the problem, you tentatively took a step backwards. Then another. And another.

Your eyes stayed on the statue until you reached the door, and you quickly turned and left, shutting the large door behind you.

It didn’t take you long to hightail it outta of the castle. The main layout you had passed was burned in your mind, and made it easier to run through.

Though it wasn’t until you were out of the castle, did you feel like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The moment you passed through those large, ominous doors and into the courtyard, it was as if you could breathe again.

You didn’t wait to catch your breath.

Running through the courtyard, you sprinted out past the rusted gate, not stopping until you were long past the lake that sat in front of the castle.

Finally, when you reached the spot where you had first noticed the castle, you came to an abrupt halt. Panting, you turned around, and eyed the ominous structure.

It was late now, the sun had been setting for a while. However, that didn’t hide the castle from your sight. The dark clouds still hovered above, with lightning and thunder striking every so often.

You still couldn’t believe it. Dracula’s castle was here, for who knows how long.

And you were going to have to destroy it somehow.

“Lucky me…” You mumbled.

Taking one last look, you anxiously made your way back to your cabin.

The walk back, which normally would have been peaceful and relaxing, was nothing but a stressful venture for you. Sure, the castle seemed empty, and you could no longer sense it the further you walked. However, that didn’t mean you were safe.

For all you knew, you were being followed by an army of hell, just waiting to ambush you.

That… didn’t really put you at ease, even as you approached your cabin.

Cautiously, you opened the door. With your weapon ready, you made a quick search of your small home.

Thankfully, no one but you seemed to be here. You weren’t sure if that relieved you, or made your anxiety worse.

You decided to take it as a blessing.

Still, you didn’t rest. It was too late to drive back, nor did you want to just leave, knowing the castle was right there, just an hour away by foot.

Biting your lip, you eyed the Vampire Killer, which was still sitting innocently on your bed. You could practically hear it in your mind to pick it up and head back to the castle. ‘Use me! Use me! Finish the job!’

As much as you wanted to, you felt a sick feeling in your stomach. Something wasn’t right, and you knew it. You just needed to figure out what it was, before you made any hasty decisions.

One wrong move, and you could not only revive your family’s immortal enemy, but also potentially doom the world if you fail at killing him. This was something where you had to tread lightly, lest you make a horrible, world ending decision.

No pressure.

You stood next to the bed for a few minutes. It felt as if your mind was racing, but you felt unable to think at all.

With a sigh, you made up your mind. Grabbing your whip and a bag, you headed to the backdoor. You wouldn’t be hunting Dracula tonight, no, but you still had to ensure your safety.

Starting with some protective measures.

Thankfully, throughout the generations, your family came up with many different ways to ward off monsters and vampires from properties. If you wanted any sleep tonight, you would have to put some of these in place, at least for your peace of mind. It wasn’t something that would take too long, but better safe than sorry.

Even if you hadn’t seen a single monster, you weren’t going to risk your life by making assumptions. It was small mistakes that got hunters killed, and you weren’t going to join their numbers.

Setting up a few traps and enchantments took longer than you would have liked, but you weren’t going to take any chances. Your cabin already had some traps in place, but renewing everything wasn’t going to hurt anyone, let alone you.

When you finally sat down on your bed, you rolled onto your back, and blankly stared at your ceiling. The Vampire Killer in your hand tightly.

“What now?” you asked yourself.

The answer seemed simple. Sleep, wake up, and take care of the problem.

It wasn’t that simple though. You already had fought yourself about this for hours. Did you really need to now, right before bed?

You turned your head to the side, seeing your phone charging on your nightstand.

“I could call for assistance…” you said, toying with the idea in your head. But did you really want to invite that mess here? With how reckless your family at home was, you didn’t think it was a good idea.

Then there was the fact they would find this place. Your little sanctuary away from them. They would never give you peace if they found this place. In fact, you were sure your father would tear it down, or claim it was his, since he was the beneficiary after your mother passed.

They would never let you have anything like this. You knew they already had tried multiple times to find where you go when you disappear, you weren’t going to give them that luxury.

Most of all, you weren’t going to give them the last thing left untouched that had been your mother’s.

You could call your other family, such as your uncle, but you shot idea that down. You hadn’t really talked to your aunt or uncle in years since your father took over everything. For all you knew, their numbers had been changed again. As much as they’d probably like to know what was going on, you felt a bitterness in your gut.

As much as you loved your aunt and uncle, they hadn’t so much bothered calling or texting you these past few years. Why would they help you now? Maybe for some glory? ‘To keep humanity safe?’ When they haven’t even helped out family?

You snorted. No thanks.

Besides, it would no doubt take them hours to get here, and they’d probably tell your father about this place against your wishes. Something about wanting all ‘Belmonts’ on deck. Bah.

Turning onto your side, you reached over and turned the lamp on your side table off.

You could think more on this tomorrow.

#castlevania #dracula vlad tepes #dracula #dracula x reader #castlevania x reader #x reader #reader insert #Belmont!reader #eventual relationship #cw death mention #cw anxiety #cw paranoia #cw toxic family #long post #zed.writes #to be continued

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amberfaber40 · 2 years ago

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There's No Subway Tile in Spain

Seville was the first stop on our trip to Spain and Italy. We stayed right in the downtown core in

Modern-Spanish Style Color Palette

Inspired by spanish style clay tiles and stucco walls, this color palette is warm and cozy with a bit of a modern twist. This color palette would go great in any spanish or modern style home. The w…

Breathtaking and peaceful

Santa Barbara Spanish Style Home in Springfield - Mediterranean - Kitchen - Other - by Andrea Nesbitt Designs | Houzz

Seven Spanish Colonial Homes You Can Buy Right Now - Sunset

From a cottage in Pasadena to a five-bedroom in Tucson, these homes for sale embrace beautiful Spanish Colonial style, and they're ready to buy right now.

New Home Draws on Historic Spanish-Style Design for Instant Charm

Hugh Jefferson Randolph created a brand-new Spanish-style home inspired by historic 1920s charm thanks to salvaged materials, natural textures and natural finishes. A white palette lets these details truly shine.

Casa Turquoise Spanish Colonial | Integrity Luxury Homes

This Casa Turquoise custom home design boasts a Spanish colonial inspired architecture build accented with Tuscan and Meditteranean vibes.

Stunning Spanish Revival is SoCal living at its finest for $17.9M

Designed by George Washington Smith in the 1920s, the Spanish Revival residence exemplifies the best of Southern Californian living.

Seville was the first stop on our trip to Spain and Italy. We stayed right in the downtown core in a lovely boutique hotel that served afternoon tea and a lovely buffet breakfast each morning.Back home, I have walked into so many homes where there is an elaborately ornate staircase design that often looks totally out of place. Now I know where the design was inspired. And it fits right in here. Along with the tile after one of my followers on Instagram noted “There’s no subway tile Maria”.So that’s what inspired this post. Which was easy to write because I took so many photos of all the tile work.I know many of you, who are longtime readers, might fall off your chair or drop your morning coffee but here is where decorative tile has a place:This was a doorway in the reception area of the hotel:Here’s the staircase (below):The first night, we had dinner in a nearby restaurant. I liked the way the muted red encaustic tile related to the bricks on the same wall (below):And it also worked well with the black and white tile floors:This was the backsplash tile in the breakfast room, back in the hotel (below):This was the floor in the Seville Cathedral nearby (below):Then we toured the Real Alcazar of Seville, castle and gardens. Gorgeous tiles everywhere (below): When does this kind of tile work back home? In context with a Spanish/Mediterranean style home, with an exterior that possibly looks like this:Image sourceAn entry staircase with iron railings ornate or not (below):Centsational StyleWood beamed ceilings, ornate, spanish style pendants, black, arched windows, all belong in a house with this colourful tile (below):image sourceYou could also design a terra cotta floor with a turquoise kitchen (below):Image sourceIn this Spanish kitchen with the beams in the ceiling and curved plaster hood fan, I could even live with the blue backsplash because it’s been repeated in the plates and tile underneath the window.Image sourcePerhaps your styling might look like this with the Spanish style wall sconce as well:Image sourceIn a Spanish style home, your powder room could look like this (below). Notice the arched doorway and perfect light fixture.Image sourceI love this fireplace design (below). So classic and timeless. Again, notice the beams and the arched french doors. The beautiful outdoor fireplace too with the iron gate.image sourceIt’s rare that I think a black leather sofa looks good but here in this more neutral ‘Spanish inspired’ living room, it works. Because there’s not too much black to make it heavy and masculine (below):image sourceWhat I have seen all too often is people will go on a trip to Europe and fall in love with a particular style and when they get home they start adding these random design elements that in no way work with the existing style of their home.That’s where random arches that have no place suddenly appear, or the busy, ornate staircase railing I mentioned at the beginning of this post or random rows of tile on a staircase kick that in no way belongs.Decorative tile has a place. And that place is definitely not as a random strip in your kitchen backsplash or shower surround.At least if you’re going to introduce accent tile, go big or go home, (like the bathroom image above) but don’t just install bits and pieces of it. Decorative tile is like a strong wall colour. If you’ve decided to paint a room red, go for it, don’t just paint it on a single wall, that rarely works.Related post: A New Way to Design Accent Tile: Ceramic ArchitectureHere are a couple more images once we arrived in Barcelona: Here I am sitting outside at dinner in a Tapas restaurant in Seville:The sidewalks in Seville were mostly concrete in a hex shape! Isn’t that incredible? You can see it behind me too in the photo above.Hexagonal concrete tile in SevilleYou’ll notice white walls are big in Spanish design. If this is the stye of your home and you need to choose the right white, download my ebook, White is Complicated; A Decorators Guide to Choosing the Right White, here. Or take advantage of our eDesign services here, to find your perfect paint colour.We fly into Naples tomorrow and our first stop on our Amalfi Coast tour is Capri Island! I can’t wait, follow along on my Insta stories here.Do you like Spanish style design?Related post:Why Stone and Accent Tile are Not as Important as you ThinkOne more Reason you Should Skip Accent Tiles AltogetherAsk Maria: What Mood does Black and White Convey, Warm or Cool?SaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSave

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windowstar · 5 days ago

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How to Choose the Right Windows and Doors for Your Home Style

Windows and doors are essential elements of any home, providing both functionality and aesthetic appeal. Selecting the right style not only enhances your home’s curb appeal but also complements its architectural design. Here’s a guide to help you choose windows and doors that perfectly suit your home’s style.

1. Consider Your Home’s Architectural Style

Different home styles call for specific window and door designs. Here are some popular examples:

Traditional Homes: Classic double-hung windows and paneled doors with ornate details work well.

Modern Homes: Opt for large, floor-to-ceiling windows and sleek, minimalist doors with clean lines.

Colonial Homes: Symmetrical windows with divided panes and centered entry doors add to the charm.

Cottage-Style Homes: Casement windows and rustic wooden doors with decorative glass inserts create a cozy look.

Mediterranean Homes: Arched windows and wrought iron-accented doors fit seamlessly.

2. Prioritize Functionality

While aesthetics are important, your windows and doors must also meet your practical needs. Consider the following:

Ventilation: Casement or sliding windows are ideal for spaces needing ample airflow.

Natural Light: Large picture windows or bay windows can brighten interiors.

Security: Reinforced glass and multi-point locking systems offer added safety.

Energy Efficiency: Look for options with Low-E glass, insulated frames, and weatherproof seals.

3. Choose Complementary Materials

The material you choose can impact the durability, maintenance, and overall look of your windows and doors. Common materials include:

Wood: Perfect for traditional and rustic homes, offering warmth and elegance.

Vinyl: A low-maintenance and affordable option with good insulation properties.

Aluminum: Lightweight and modern, ideal for contemporary designs.

Fiberglass: Durable and energy-efficient, suitable for various architectural styles.

4. Select the Right Colors and Finishes

The color and finish of your windows and doors should harmonize with your home’s exterior. Popular choices include:

Neutral Tones: White, beige, or gray for a timeless appeal.

Bold Colors: Bright hues for the front door to create a focal point.

Natural Wood Stains: Ideal for traditional and rustic homes.

Black Frames: A contemporary touch that contrasts beautifully with light-colored walls.

5. Incorporate Decorative Elements

Enhance the visual appeal of your windows and doors with decorative features:

Grilles: Add a classic or craftsman-style look to windows.

Glass Inserts: Choose frosted, stained, or etched glass for added style and privacy.

Hardware: Select door handles, knobs, and hinges that match your home’s design theme.

6. Think About Indoor-Outdoor Connection

If you love blending indoor and outdoor spaces, consider:

Sliding Glass Doors: Perfect for patios and decks.

French Doors: A classic choice for creating elegant transitions.

Bi-Fold Doors: Expand living areas seamlessly while maximizing natural light.

7. Factor in Maintenance Needs

Different materials and finishes require varying levels of upkeep. For instance:

Wood: Needs regular sealing or painting to prevent damage.

Vinyl: Requires minimal maintenance and is resistant to moisture.

Aluminum: May need occasional cleaning to avoid corrosion.

Final Thoughts

Choosing the right windows and doors for your home is a balance of style, functionality, and durability. By considering your home’s architectural design, practical needs, and personal preferences, you can create a cohesive look that enhances both beauty and value.

Ready to Find Your Perfect Fit?

Contact Window star today to explore our range of stylish and functional windows and doors. Let us help you bring your vision to life!

#Windows and Doors

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internationalrealestatenews · 11 months ago

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[ad_1] Los Angeles | $2.2 MillionA 3-bedroom, three-and-a-half-bathroom storybook cottage in-built 1926, on a 0.1-acre lotThis home is within the hills above Laurel Canyon, lower than a five-minute drive from Hollywood Boulevard and fewer than 10 minutes from the nightlife on the Sundown Strip. It's also near Canyon Nation Retailer, a preferred neighborhood market, a Dealer Joe’s and the mountaineering trails in Runyon Canyon Park.The CBS Tv Metropolis complicated is 10 minutes away. Driving to Studio Metropolis, within the San Fernando Valley, or Beverly Hills takes about quarter-hour. Dodger Stadium is half an hour away.Measurement: 2,119 sq. toesValue per sq. foot: $1,038Indoors: From the driveway, stairs lead as much as an arched door that opens into the lobby.To the left is a sunken lounge with a shiny crimson ceiling; a hearth with a multicolored-tile encompass; tall home windows with stained glass accents overlooking the encircling bushes; and entry to a balcony.On the opposite aspect of the lobby is a eating room with shiny yellow partitions and diamond-paned home windows. This area connects to a kitchen with stone flooring, a breakfast space with a built-in banquette and a Dutch door that gives outside entry. A powder room is off the kitchen.Stairs within the lobby result in the 2 bedrooms on the second flooring. The first suite features a bed room giant sufficient to carry a king-size mattress, extra diamond-paned home windows, a big walk-in closet and a rest room with a deep soaking tub and a separate bathe. The opposite bed room and a full lavatory are on the reverse finish of the upstairs corridor. An octagonal library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves can be on this stage.The third bed room and a full lavatory are on the bottom stage of the home, together with a laundry room that has a sink and a washer and dryer.Out of doors area: Two outside areas are off the primary stage: a balcony with treetop views and a patio with a fountain and a small koi pond. One other patio accessible from the highest flooring is surrounded by a low wrought-iron fence and a rock wall. The connected storage holds two automobiles.Taxes: $27,504 (estimated)Contact: Dag Eliason and Alexandre Anu, The Company, 424-278-4129; theagencyre.comOrange | $2.195 MillionA 1921 Prairie-style home with 4 bedrooms and two loos, on a 0.2-acre lotThis home, which has an up to date electrical system and contemporary exterior paint, is within the coronary heart of Previous Towne, inside strolling distance of a public library, metropolis corridor, Chapman College and the Hilbert Museum of California Artwork, which has an intensive assortment of Twentieth-century watercolors. It's a 10-minute drive from Disneyland and 20 minutes from Irvine.Driving to Newport Seaside takes half an hour. Downtown Los Angeles is lower than an hour away.Measurement: 2,303 sq. toesValue per sq. foot: $953Indoors: A paved path runs throughout the neatly manicured garden, stepping as much as the lined porch that frames the doorway.The oak entrance door opens immediately right into a lounge with giant home windows and authentic woodwork and hardwood flooring. To the appropriate is a research with built-in bookshelves and a built-in trundle mattress. Straight forward, via a large, columned doorway, is the eating room, which has authentic built-ins and leaded-glass home windows.This area connects to a sunny kitchen with wooden cabinetry, black quartz counters, a classic white-enamel Wedgewood range and a food-preparation desk that's authentic to the home. A sunroom, a full lavatory with a mixed tub and bathe, and a mudroom with a laundry hookup are off the kitchen.All 4 bedrooms are on the second flooring, reached from stairs within the research. The first bed room has a walk-in closet and a balcony overlooking the neighborhood. The bed room subsequent door holds two twin beds; the 2 throughout the corridor are presently arrange as a house workplace and a den. A full lavatory with a

white porcelain pedestal sink, a mixed tub and bathe, and a laundry chute all the way down to the mudroom can be on this stage.Out of doors area: Behind the home is a lined patio dealing with an in-ground pool that was lately resurfaced. The yard is planted with fruit-bearing bushes. The indifferent storage holds two automobiles.Taxes: $27,432 (estimated, however the house is eligible for lowered property taxes beneath the Mills Act)Contact: Lisa Blanc and Krista Blanc, Seven Gables Actual Property, 714-231-9622; lisablanc.realscout.comRedwood Metropolis | $2.2 MillionA lately renovated 1939 home with 4 bedrooms and three loos, on a 0.1-acre lotThis home is in a quiet neighborhood half a mile from Eaton Park, the place mountaineering trails provide views of San Francisco Bay. It's a 10-minute stroll from Clifford Elementary College and a 10-minute drive from well-ranked center and excessive colleges. Grocery shops, a movie show and a CalTrain station are additionally about 10 minutes away, within the middle of the town.The seashores of Half Moon Bay are about half an hour away. Driving to downtown San Jose takes about 40 minutes. San Francisco is lower than an hour’s drive.Measurement: 1,729 sq. toesValue per sq. foot: $1,272Indoors: A brick path runs throughout the entrance garden to a small lined porch paved in brick.The sunshine blue Dutch door opens immediately right into a sunny dwelling space with a hearth that has a beveled stucco encompass. This area is open to a eating space and an up to date kitchen with a big island that has a waterfall counter and stainless-steel home equipment, together with a devoted beverage fridge and a built-in microwave.A hallway with built-in closets off the kitchen results in all 4 bedrooms. The first bed room is giant sufficient to carry a king-size mattress and a desk; the en suite lavatory has a glass-walled walk-in bathe. The visitor room throughout the corridor has using a rest room with a mixed tub and bathe subsequent to the first suite.Two extra bedrooms, one with a walk-in closet and the opposite with an en suite lavatory, are on the far finish of the corridor, together with a door to the yard.Out of doors area: The wooden deck behind the home steps all the way down to a gravel space large enough for lounging, eating and grilling, with a garden past. The yard is enclosed by a wooden fence and shaded by a neighboring tree. The connected storage holds one automotive.Taxes: $27,504 (estimated)Contact: Herman Chan, Golden Gate Sotheby’s Worldwide Realty, 415-787-3450; sothebysrealty.comFor weekly electronic mail updates on residential actual property information, enroll right here. [ad_2]

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nelsondesign · 2 years ago

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House Plan 1099 Lakeland, American Woodlands House Plan

This cottage home by Nelson Design Group offers fantastic street appeal for the neighborhood with the arched roof over the front porch. Sunny mornings can be enjoyed on the covered front porch with hot coffee and a book while enjoying after-dinner conversation on the rear screen-porch. The grand entry foyer has box columns making a lavish entry into the great room with fireplace and a vaulted ceiling. Many dining options are available in both formal dining room and breakfast rooms, which are separated by the open kitchen complete with center work-island with seating. This split bedroom design offers privacy to the master suite placed at the rear of the home featuring French doors into the private bathroom and corner whirlpool tub.

#houseplans #home plan #house design #home design #modern house plans #floor plans #floordesigns

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peacemaker-ic · 4 years ago

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Buildmode Content Update for Post-Patch 1.66

Windows, doors, and arches have been updated to work with the new cutout system allowing more freedom with window placement. You will need to redownload the sets. I advise deleting the original files, then putting the new files in as i have organised the download folders with a new sub folder.

The new folder in many sets is called “Legacy” which contain the now obsolete 2 tile variants of items. If you are on the latest patch, you are free to delete this folder as you don’t need it. This is merely supporting old content for those that may have used the content in builds etc and those on the old legacy version of the game. Going forward I will not be making 2 Tile variants.

Here is a full list of sets that have been updated:

Buymode sets:

Lofte Living

Custom Buildmode sets:

Vaulted Ranch

Austere

Graciously Georgian 2.0

Screened-In

Maxis Addons:

Cats & Dogs

City Living

Get Famous Quaint Cottage

Get to Work Store Windows

Island Living

Looker Windows

Romantic Garden

Seasons

Strangerville

Vampires

Vintage Glamour Part I

Vintage Glamour Part II

A few (very old) arches have been discontinued because I no longer use them. These are:

3 Tile Keystone Arch

Vast Entry Frame

Entry Frame Addons

#TS4 #Sims 4 #S4CC #TS4CC #TS4 Download #Update

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blueiscoool · 4 years ago

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The Legendary $125 Million Beverly House

Beverly House, a legendary luxury real estate, is sited on approximately 6 flat acres atop a private knoll 3 blocks from Sunset Boulevard in Beverly Hills, California. With original landscaping by Paul Thiene, entrance gates adjacent a two-story gate house open to a long private driveway ascending one of the city’s longest private drives to a courtyard fountain.

Architect Gordon Kaufmann was commissioned by one of Los Angeles most important families to create his legendary masterpiece. Built of terra-cotta stucco, the H-shaped residence exhibits a perfect combination of Spanish and Italian style, with intricately carved ceilings and paneled walls, French doors, balconies, arched ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows, which overlook the famous cascading waterfalls to the pool and the Venetian columns beyond the pool house.

A rich history

The Beverly House was built by banking executive Milton Getz. Marion Davies bought the property in 1946 for William Randolph Hearst, historical figure and most powerful publishing magnate of the 20th century, who moved there from San Simeon and lived at Beverly House where he spent the remainder of his life.

Detailed description

The main level includes a 50 foot entry hall with loggia, a living room with 22 foot high arched and detailed ceilings, and the famed library with hand carved woodwork and staircase leading to second story wrap-around balcony and bookshelves. The billiard room contains herringbone parquet floors and a massive carved stone fireplace mantle from San Simeon. There is also a formal dining room, breakfast room, and family room with outdoor terrace accommodating up to 400 for sit-down dining. A garden level contains an art-deco night-club, wine cellar, and one of two projection rooms in the residence. Another level contains spa facilities with a gym and massage room. The second story contains double masters, guest suites and staff accommodations.

Additional features of Beverly House include a commercial kitchen, owner’s and staff offices, outside staff accommodations, lighted tennis court with indoor bar and media center, guest house above eight car garage, separate security cottage, separate two bedroom apartment and two story gate lodge with kitchenette and four bedrooms.

In addition to hosting John and Jacqueline Kennedy during their honeymoon, Beverly House also played a character in the classic movies ”The Godfather” and ”The Bodyguard”.

#the legendary $125 million beverly house #luxury #luxury living #luxury lifestyle #luxury real estate #billionaire #billionaire lifestyle #rich #$$$#the good life #living large #high rollers

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chrysalispen · 4 years ago

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borealis #4 - nose

AO3 LINK HERE

there’s an extended scene i’m still working on for this, but there was a lot of stuff going on offline today (including internet blips) that ultimately caused me to leave off with the SFW version so i hope no one is too disappointed. XD

Prompt response is below the cut, as ever.

======

Perhaps the most self-evident observation that could be made of the small house nestled in its small copse in the Shroud upon first entry was that its adventuring inhabitant -- or inhabitants -- were either avid readers or wished any potential guests they might have to believe that was the case. The sitting-room with its tall shelves of books was immediately visible from the front entry, and one might be forgiven for assuming there was no possible way every tome on its shelves had been read.

In point of fact, the Warrior of Light was an avid reader when the subject fascinated her. However, this particular book was not the sort that normally caught her eye. She had only attempted to peruse its contents once, and that was yesterday when she had decided to outline today’s plan of attack. Last year, Nero had treated her to dinner - among other things - and she had completely forgotten the occasion.

Well, she was not going to be caught unawares by the holiday this year. Today was Valentione’s Day and by some miracle, confluence of the fates, or what-have-you, she had managed to capture a small handful of days to herself in order to prepare. The flower arrangements were simplicity itself; those were already set on the table along with the gift she’d commissioned, wrapped neatly in its box- part of his gift, anyroad- and now all she had to do was see to the dinner.

And the chocolates.

...Aurelia wasn’t nearly as sure about the chocolates.

Making them herself had seemed like a wonderful idea at the time, but she was starting to regret it. Warrior of Light or not, she really wasn’t what one would call the most accomplished culinarian, unlike Nero, who seemed to take the same meticulous approach to cooking as he did to his research and his engineering. He had grown up in a poor farming village, had learned how to make food alongside the grandmother who had raised him in order to help feed his family.

Whereas Aurelia had- well. As the daughter of a wealthy landed gentleman - even if he was a younger son - her upbringing had been very different. Her lady-lessons had not included such things; the husband her family selected for her would have hired a cook and a housekeeper in the interest of keeping up appearances. And as a child, she had wanted to climb trees and grow flowers and be a scholar, the seven hells take sweating over a stove or bending over a distaff until her fingers ached.

Too late for regrets now, she supposed.

Aurelia squinted doubtfully at the illustrated page, then back to the bubbling mess in the pot. It all felt rather simple, she thought. She’d never made truffles before, true, but only four ingredients? Surely she could do better than that. Chocolates with no embellishments seemed so-

“Well,” she muttered, “perhaps it’s fine if it’s a little uninspired.”

Though on second thought, watching the cocoa melt down in the saucepan: perhaps some brandy wouldn’t hurt? Culinarians put spirits in sweets and other things all the time, and she remembered some treats she’d had in the Crystarium with Lakeland brandywine in them that had been absolutely amazing.

With that decision made, she turned to make her way down the stairs towards her wine cellar, but the moment she set foot on the stairs, her linkpearl sounded off. Frowning faintly, she tapped the small device alongside the shell of her ear.

“Yes?”

“Oh, Relia!” Tataru’s voice, perhaps just a touch too bright, chirped across the aetheric link. “So sorry to trouble you! I know you asked for no calls unless it was an emergency.”

“So I did. Is aught amiss?” She glanced over one shoulder as she made her way down the stairs towards the cellar door, too impatient and worried about the state of her cooking chocolate to pay much attention.

“Oh, not at all! This isn’t a work call, I promise. It’s just, er…”

Aurelia knew the sound of Tataru’s ‘I’m about to ask you for a favor’ voice when she heard it. “Go on.”

“I was going through my measurement book for sewing patterns - for no reason whatsoever! - and realized I was missing one of yours. The, um, the bust.”

Her brows furrowed once more, this time in mild disbelief.

“...The bust.”

“Yes.”

“Just the bust size is missing. Somehow.” Damn, where had she put that cognac?

“Yes.”

Right. Well, you're clearly up to something, old friend.

She supposed she could grill Tataru for the details of whatever scheme she’d hatched, but attempting to pick apart the reasoning behind the Lalafell’s choice to call her with an extremely transparent lie would be better done while she was not preoccupied. In the meantime Aurelia didn’t see any harm in giving her a couple of measurements - she had, after all, entrusted her with them once before.

With this reasoning in mind, she rattled off the numbers as best she could remember them while squinting at the labeled bottles within the dimly lit rack. After a few moments of rummaging, she found what she was looking for just as Tataru piped, “I’ve got it. Thanks, Relia!”

“You’re welco-”

The quick chime of a severed connection left her in relative peace and quiet once more. Which was strange in itself, because usually when Tataru was making a social call Aurelia could expect to be on the hook for a good half-bell of her time.

But it was a question she could ask herself later. Right now she had chocolates to make.

She trotted happily up the stairs, bottle in one victorious hand… only to see an alarming amount of smoke billowing from the stovetop.

“Oh swiving Twelve- ” She made haste to the range and switched it off, then snatched one of the mitts from the nearby wall mount to wave back the smoke. Most of the pan’s contents appeared salvageable, thankfully, but it didn’t seem like enough. She wanted to make another batch, but if she didn’t have the extra ingredients-

Wait. I can just melt down some of the chocolate chips I saw in that bag in the dry pantry, can’t I? And just add the brandy in while it’s melting?

Aurelia turned towards the shelves of dry goods, somewhat cheered by the thought that she could spare herself a trip to the markets, at the very least. The bag was at the back of the very top shelf and she had to stretch a considerable bit to reach it, but she managed to pull it down without spilling any of its contents.

She set aside the saucepan with its half-scorched contents, reached under the counter for a fresh pan, and poured in the chocolate, then paused. She probably didn’t need the cocoa butter if all she was doing was melting pre-made chips-- she’d have to pour in the cream while it was still hot but maybe that was fine, maybe it would even help melt the chocolate faster. Then “a splash of spirits,” whatever that meant. To taste, perhaps?

Hmm. Speaking of taste, which patisserie was it back in the capital that used to put chilies in their truffles...?

Her good mood returned as she acted upon that stray impulse; she plucked one of the chilies from its bag and started cutting into fine pieces to add to the new mix. Of course, she might be getting a touch ahead of herself, but surely it would turn out alright in the end. These were all flavors she knew would work in chocolates so a little deviation here and there wouldn’t hurt.

The longcase chronometer in the parlor struck four just as she was stirring the pieces into the half-melted lumps.

Hells. She still had to put the noodles on to cook and she hadn’t even started the sauce yet. If she wanted everything to be ready in order to spring her surprise, she’d have to work fast.

That was all right. She’d worked under far worse conditions before.

With a determined nod, Aurelia tucked a stray tendril of hair back behind her ear, turned up the heat on the cream until it began to bubble, and uncorked the cognac bottle. ~*~

Nero was not sure exactly what he should have expected when he opened the cottage door, but the smell of burnt sugar and the sight of a darkened kitchen was concerning, to say the least.

He set the box that had been in his hands upon the nearby table (where, he noted, there was a wrapped box and a vase of fresh-cut flowers she had likely arranged herself) and ventured into the parlor. He found Aurelia sitting in one corner of the sofa, curled in a tight ball with her arms wrapped about her legs and her face buried in her knees. “Before you say anything,” she said, her voice muffled, “don’t.”

His brows arched.

“That bad, is it?”

“You have to ask? You can surely smell it for yourself.”

“I can.” Though he knew it was unwise, he cracked a grin. “...Did you perchance fight an eikon in the kitchen? Is that my surprise?”

Nero received precisely the answer he had expected for that particular bit of cheek: a sound swat to the face with one of the sofa pillows. He ouched as she drew her hand back and made an exaggerated face at her, but Aurelia didn’t take the bait. Instead she made a breathy, angry little hmph!, the sound muffled against her thighs, and tried to angle herself away from his perusal to face the apple-green brocade which covered the sofa’s frame.

“Sweetling-”

“Don’t talk to me,” she huffed. “I’m angry.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“I’ve made a mess of everything.”

“I don’t see how- well yes, alright, I suppose the kitchen is a bit of a disaster. But it’s naught that can’t be salvaged.” He sat down next to her and smelled chocolate and… something alcoholic. “What happened? You look absolutely gutted.”

Finally she lifted her chin to look at him. Her blue eyes were very dark and very wide and shimmered with suspicious wetness.

"I was going to make dinner for you," she groaned. "I had flowers and a present and I was trying to make-”

“Chocolates.” Aurelia’s face was hard to see in the darkness but he could see her chin bob. “I take it something went awry.”

“A great lot of somethings. And then I was so busy trying to fix what had gone wrong that I burned dinner and-”

“Hush. Come here.” Reluctantly she let him untangle her from her sulk and pull her into his lap, like a tired kitten. “You know I appreciate the gesture, but it wasn't necessary.”

“Yes, it was!"

"How so?"

"I completely forgot last year. You went to all that trouble and I forgot. So I wanted to make it up to you. I thought if I could make it as special as possible-.... never mind.” Aurelia lifted her hands and stared at her chocolate-stained fingers with a disconsolate sigh. “...I’ll clean up the kitchen as soon as I’ve my wits about me.”

“You will do no such thing.” Nero kissed her on the nose, then gave it a tiny tap with his index finger. “You are going to go downstairs and run yourself a bath while I clean the kitchen- once I’ve dialed Mistress Tataru and thanked her for her very timely assistance, that is.”

So that was what that call was about! Seven hells, what had Tataru told him? The look on his face was that of a man hiding an extremely exciting secret, and she didn’t know whether to be apprehensive or curious.

Cautiously, she chose the letter.

“Dare I ask?”

“You can ask all you like,” he grinned, that smile that was so often in turns endearing and infuriating. “Whether you’ll get an answer before I wish to give it remains to be seen.”

Aurelia sighed but felt her lips curve in a smile, some of her humor returning. “Surely cleaning the house was not on your docket for the evening.”

“Of course it wasn’t- but there's really only been a slight change of plans. Once you've had a chance to clean up, you're going to open that gift, and then I’m going to show you how to make proper chocolate-- and how to put it to far more interesting uses than homemade truffles.” Her cheeks felt ablaze with color, and as she watched a mischievous curl crept slowly into his smile. “One good turn deserves another, after all.”

“Is this where I say ‘happy Valentione’s Day’ or somesuch?”

His lips brushed her cheek.

“It's a start,” he said. "And if it hasn't been happy thus far, I am quite confident I can make it so."

#nero x wol #aurelia laskaris #nero tol scaeva #happy valentione's day!#holds up a sign reading 'i'm sorry it isn't spicy'#i'll post that part in kissing book when it's done #chrysalispen writes

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jafndaegur · 4 years ago

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Sesskag Week 2020 | Day 2: Fantasy / Fairytale

The Shikon Woman

Sesskag

a/n: for those of you who are curious, this is based off the Rin and Len spin of the Crane Wife. I also made a Mystic Messenger version of this story, so differntiating the two was a challenge. Hope you like it (and that it makes sense😅)!

Sesshomaru knew he was the most feared thing here. The strongest youkai his village, his territory, his lands, had begotten. So when one night he detected threads of foreign scents encroaching over his boundaries, rage ignited within his system. Who dare breach his perimeters and intrude? Soon enough whoever it was would not even have the body to take another step let alone return from whence they came.

He surged over the earth, powers brimming at the potential of his fury. Claws arched, fangs barred, and the world flashed by as he sped forward. Until he came skidding to a stop.

The cold winter wind blasted around him, wiping his hair and clothes like banners.

Before him struggled a young creature—a young human woman it seemed. Her onyx hair had been tied back with a white ribbon and while her bangs flustered about in the cold wind, he could still see her enraged blue eyes hidden beneath the dark locks. He gazed to see why she'd ventured this far when he realized that what he thought were the red hems of her hakama, were seeping trails of blood in the snow. She'd been caught in a hunting trap and lured in. He flashed a cruel smile. How pathetic.

His investigation was over, the woman would die before the next snowfall. Blood loss, another demon consuming her, or frostbite. He had no preference to any death. One less human was one less human. Yet still, he stopped.

She made no protest as he left. No cry for help. He turned on his heel, snow crunching under his boots, to find her cerulean glare directed at him. Her lip curled up and her voice growled lowly in her chest. She was above pleading. But clearly not below rage.

He blinked and crouched before her.

Interesting.

In a flash of light he left her, having made sure that the shackles fell freely from her caught and mangled limb. She may do as she will. Her obstinacy caught his attention briefly and he acted on a whim.

Whatever happened next, he cared not.

…

There was a knock at the door. He'd inhabited an old cottage for the day to figure out where he would wander next. It wasn't often that he required lodgings but with the cold snowy weather, he'd prefer to wait out the night underneath the roof than in the cold. So receiving a visitor, who should've been able to scent out what and more importantly who he was, struck him as odd.

He opened the door to find burning blue eyes.

The woman looked different than she had before. Her hair flowed freely around her shoulders, soft and flared like fur. She no longer wore the garbs of a priestess but simple and plain clothes of green and white. A traveling outfit.

"I'm going to wait out the storm here," she declared, heaving the load of kindling in her arms and offering it to him.

He stared at her blankly.

Over her shoulder were a set of rabbits. In her arms wood. Her gaze bore straight into his. With the declaration of her stay, if he didn't know better Sesshomaru would have sworn she was offering courtship gifts.

But such a ridiculous idea made him scoff. He left the door open and retreated back into the house, neither inviting or rejecting her.

Her footsteps and sound of the door told him she'd followed.

…

As the cold weather worsened, Sesshomaru found the woman's presence an odd comfort. She constantly filled the silence with chatter and always brought something new for him. Mostly food. She ventured out whenever she wished, and while he never expected her to return, she always did. With a tight clench in his chest and low flicker of eyelashes, he always welcomed her back with a brief moment of his attention.

Whenever she arrived, she'd stomp her feet and give a mocking shout.

Everytime she repeated this odd little ritual. He never responded but in its own way it amused him. As if he'd grace her with an actual welcome home.

I'm home, Sesshomaru! She'd say before pretending to make the sound of his voice. Welcome Kagome, please remove your shoes before entry.

Still, despite that he always made sure her futon was ready at night, and the kitchen was in good condition for her to prepare her spoils. Sesshomaru knew he wouldn't be staying much longer, so he saw no harm in helping her with their winter living situation.

…

One day the aching in his chest grew too strong to ignore. His hands felt stiff, so did his arms and legs, torso and neck. He decided he would not bother removing himself from bed for that day. And the next. The next. Then next. The next.

Kagome checked upon him after what seemed like a second from when he'd first laid down. But the worried look and the scared face told him otherwise.

"You're sick." She whispered.

His hand gracefully arched to his mouth as he huffed out a cough. It didn't matter if his blood slipped from fingers and lips. There was no point in answering her.

Day by day she disappeared constantly. Bringing different herbs along with the meat she always provided. He hardly ever touched any of the food, but he admired the attempts. Every now again from his hazy in-and-out of consciousness, he offered her a smile. Nothing more or less.

The first time he allowed the slip, she paused from her work and gave him the oddest look. With each following time, she grew more and more desperate in her actions. With the briefest pang in his chest, he blamed whatever it was that made him ill, he wondered if she wanted more than a smile.

…

Staying conscious proved difficult. Lucky for him, youkai could hibernate if needed. Whatever it was that damaged him internally, required his rest for extensive periods of time. Moments of waking were rare and fleeting, full of muddled sounds and blurred sights.

"...would you...love me…"

The voice was faint. It was followed by the brief flicker of azure eyes and calloused caresses along the form of his forehead and cheek.

Before he fell unconscious again he thought that was such a foolish question.

Wasn't it obvious?

…

He woke up one day. Easily. As he had done every day of his life.

A sword had been laid upon his chest as if he were resting in a casket. Sitting up he wrapped his hand around the blade and stared curiously at the item. It pulsed with life, with healing, with radiance worth of heaven.

Kagome sat beside his bedside, asleep. Her knees curled beneath her and her arms pillowed her head as she slept.

He took a gentle sniff, wondering what her scent would tell him. To his utter alarm he found she had none. Taking in the sight of her, he observed her with careful detail, brows raising. Her arms had been wrapped with bandages, and pale pink fragments of crystal littered the area around her—on the floor and on the bed.

Gently he unwrapped the cloth covering her arms. The entirety of her skin had transformed, molding into the same fragile make like the shards surrounding them. She glimmered like a jewel.

Kagome's blue eyes gazed up at him weakly, her face looked as if a gemstone had swallowed the left half alive. A living jewel. "I wished and wished because hurry hurry, he's sick."

Sesshomaru’s grip returned tighter around the sword.

Fingers creaked with inhuman fragility, like chimes tinkling against glass. She reached to him for just a moment. "Would you love me if I wasn't human? If I made a wish to bring you back from death?"

Leaning forward, Sesshomaru placed the sword between them and clasped her adamantine hand. "Foolish." He whispered, resting his lips upon her frigid and glassy forehead.

#sesskag #sesskagweek2020 #skw2020 #skw2020d2 #sesshomaru x kagome #sesshomaru #kagome higurashi #i hope this wasnt too much of a mess #trying to catch up #fairytale #the crane wife

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 110

I am so excited that so many people liked Nixe’s appearance in the last chapter. I seriously, seriously cannot credit anyone but @dierotenixe and @catolicabuena for that match made in heaven.

For this chapter, I want to thank my beta readers, @zazen-rabbit, @baelpenrose, and @charlylimph-blog. Bael gets credit for both the story and the person who tells it, while Zazen-rabbit and Charly get credit for the byplay of Tyche and Charly, because I really do believe that is how it would work out if they met in real life.

P.S. I am in the U.S, so if you have early voting in your state, please go vote now so you are exposed to fewer people. If you are still able to register to vote, please do. If you can’t vote in person, please vote by mail-in ballot and check local regulations on how to turn it in.

After our resident mermaid vanished with a near-silent splash, we made our way back to the campsite. Shortly, we were carving into the gigantic vegetables Sam had grown for us. While some - like Conor and Coffee - had no issue scooping out the contents, I was soon leaning so far over that I had to kick my legs to get them back on the ground. Maverick started to laugh one time, but a glare from Tyche killed it before it could get very far.

My ribs were starting to hurt from bouncing up on the rim of the pumpkin, when suddenly I heard my sister start swearing. When she finally stopped, I saw her glance at Charly and arch a brow. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinking?” she asked cryptically.

Apparently Charly understood completely. “Yep,” was the only response before both climbed on top of their respective pumpkins and started ripping out the contents until they could stand inside to get the rest. I was actually jealous…. There was no way I would be able to do the same thing, seeing as I was about half-again the size of my sister, at least.

Instead, I decided to take a break and let those better suited to hollowing out our victims take care of the work. I wasn’t the only one, I noticed, as I sat next to Arthur and took the water he handed me. “I would ask when we start telling ghost stories again,” he ventured, staring past the light emitters as Simon and Grey approached, “but something tells me Nixe got a head start on all that.”

Simon shuddered as he crossed his legs to take a seat. “Shouldn’t there be a rule against Sirens singing spooky songs about drowning people?”

The three of us stared blankly, trying to process that question. “Simon.” Grey spoke so slowly that I felt like I was hearing them through molasses. I had honestly never heard my fellow Councillor sound so uncertain of what they were saying. “I hope your suggestion is meant to be humorous, as even I would find myself profoundly disappointed to find the closest thing I will ever know to a merperson, singing in the middle of the night, during a camping trip, ostensibly during a holiday season dedicated to being scared, and find they were singing about anything else.” The sight of them slowly ticking off each part of that scenario was too much to bear, and my laughter distracted everyone else in our group.

“Are we talking about the mermaid song?” Charly asked as she took a seat and started digging through the carrier with our dinner. As she started passing out hand-held meat pies, she glanced at Simon in confusion. “I noticed that last time… Simon, you hate scary stories. I get not knowing last time that we were going to tell any, but I made a point to specifically mention about - I dunno, every time I had an excuse to - leading up to this trip.” Politely left off was the implied question: So why did you come?

He hung his head and shrugged before Conor gently hit him on the shoulder and grinned. “Leave him alone, Charly. If you aren’t scared, what’s the point?” Tossing a wink to Maverick, Conor handed a pie to him before handing one to Simon. “Just keep in mind, they’re all stories, no matter what anyone else tells you.”

Arthur cleared his throat. “Or they were true once, but it was a very long time ago, back on Earth.” He ignored the glares from Conor and Maverick as he contradicted their attempts to calm Simon. “Once, when I was on my own in the After, I was looking for books - Sophia, don’t look at me like that, I didn’t use most of them for kindling - and I found this old journal stuck behind several encyclopedias. And when I say it was an old journal, I mean really old. It dated from around the time of the United States Civil War.”

“Most of it was pretty average, everyday stuff, even nearly two-hundred years later. But that last entry…” He shook his head like he was trying to forget something. “I don’t even know what his name was, he obviously never mentioned it in a journal he never meant anyone else to read. But I think even I would have been terrified if that happened to me.”

After a prolonged pause, I elbowed him. “Seriously? You aren’t going to tell us what it said?” I scowled, knowing how aware he was that bringing something up and then not telling me would drive me crazy, even if I was better off not knowing. “You can’t tell Simon that some stories are true, bring up a story, then not tell it.”

Somewhat smugly, he looked like he was about to argue when a small knife landed between his feet with a thunk. Snapping his head up in the direction it came from, Tyche and Charly looked suspiciously oblivious to the projectile. With a tug, Arthur freed it before giving it a once over. “Give this back to your sister later, but if another one shows up, I’m not telling the story.” Handing me the knife, he started reciting what he had read in the journal.

“My old friend Kilmore had sent me a letter, just as my wife and I were attempting to find a suitable home for our family - she was pregnant, you see. He asked for my help in a small matter, ridding him of a dangerous and unhinged tenant, and while I’d heard some troubling rumors about how Kilmore dealt with people who caused trouble on his lands, I was eager - he swore to me that he would give my wife and I the cottage he was evicting this man from once it was cleaned if I was willing to give him a hand. The land around the cottage was lovely, idyllic, and thus, despite our misgivings about helping him with his dirty work, my wife and I headed to my old friend’s land.”

“Kilmore was a widower, but his sister lived with him still, and while she and my wife enjoyed one another’s company, I went out with him to go deal with the tenant. I saw a great deal of strange markings on the trees around the cottage - strange, dark symbols and sigils. Kilmore rolled his eyes at them, and rapped sharply on the door.

"Sir,” he called. “You’ve not been paying rent, and you’ve been setting fire to parts of my woods, and only last week you assaulted one of my groundskeepers - the poor fellow was hurt. I’ve had enough of your boorish activity, and am going to cast you off my lands.”

“The large fellow in the cabin - strangely proportioned, with a massive black dog sitting at his feet, made no move. Kilmore spoke again. “I am speaking to you, you lout.”

“The man made no reply, but this time simply stood up, grabbed a powerful bow of some strange white wood from the wall, nocked an arrow and sent it winging through the open window by which Kilmore and I stood.

“Kilmore cursed, and spoke again. “Very well, you utter madman. We’ll have to smoke you out.”

“With that, we set about blocking the man’s chimney and windows and set a fire near the open one - a fire that quickly spread and caught part of the cabin ablaze. Kilmore cursed, and assured me that he’d pay for my wife and I to remain in an apartment in the manor proper until the cottage was rebuilt, but the man came out, staggering and swearing in a tongue we didn’t know, and swiping at us with a hideously curved knife before Kilmore struck him hard on the temple with a cane.

“The man spat, still speaking that strange tongue, and then abruptly started speaking in a civilized language. “My dog, my dog!” We realized then that the dog hadn’t emerged - and when we realized that nothing could have survived that inferno, Kilmore began attempting to apologize, but the man simply struck him across the mouth, said a little more in his own language, then screamed madly and fled into the woods.”

I started to open my mouth to insist this couldn’t be the entire story… Nothing like that would have terrified me, much less Arthur, after everything that was survived in the After. When I opened my mouth, before any words could come out, he shoved a second meat pie between my teeth to stop the objection. Even Coffee smiled, despite the story, as Arthur continued. “I was skipping the boring stuff in between, because I doubt anyone here cares about how many barrels of ale they made, or how much apple cider they kept to drink fresh instead of setting aside to ferment. Although, either there were several Missus Grossmans, or the woman was as fertile as a rabbit… Anyway.”

“It was a year later when my wife and I finally moved into the rebuilt cottage. The servants helping us bring our things in kept stepping strangely over the threshold, and my wife, our baby swaddled in a blue blanket in her arms, asked why.

“The madman who lived here - he buried his dog over the threshold. Laid a curse. We’re trying to avoid waking it.” I ignored the commoner’s superstition - my wife and I were too learned to fear such things.

“Still, my wife heard strange growling that evening, waking me about it repeatedly, and I didn’t know what to make of it. The next day, Kilmore and I set out for a short time - the madman had well and truly crossed a line, murdering a stableboy with that same knife we’d seen, and we went to hunt him down.

“We finally did so, the crazed man stumbling and swearing at us that the spirits of the wronged would have their vengeance, even as he charged and Kilmore’s flintlock roared. The man still managed to drag himself over and bury his knife in my friend, who the servants helped back to the house while a doctor was summoned. I was told to go home by Kilmore’s sister.

“When I arrived, my wife was screaming, sobbing wildly and desperately tearing at the threshold of our house. “What’s wrong!?”

“The dog. The dog. it…it took George! We have to get him back!”

“I didn’t know what to make of that, and cast desperately around my house for my son, but I didn’t see him…just large, muddy pawprints and I joined my wife in the mad scramble at the threshold..only to see a speck of color that I frantically clawed at, recovering a scrap of fabric - a bloodstained shred of George’s blue blanket.

“At the sight of it, I knew, and my wife knew, that our son was dead. We couldn’t stay in the cottage after that, and we left. My wife continued hearing padding, the breathing of a large dog, occasionally a growl, but I never did. About a year later, she told me that I had to go to Kilmore, see what he could do to perhaps put the spirit of the dog and his mad master to rest. I arrived at Kilmore’s door, and rang it.

“The butler answered, not my friend, nor his sister. I asked after him, and the Butler looked at me oddly. “My lord, Kilmore’s been dead for some time now.”

“Did his wounds from the madman’s blade fester?”

“They seem to have. They fully recovered, but his sister swore one night she heard a dreadful growling, and a snarl, and when she went in, the scars had burst open and rot had poured out.”

“I shuddered at the thought. “Then may I see my friend’s sister, and give her my condolences?”

“The butler shook his head. “No sir. She’s given orders that she’s not to be disturbed. She isn’t well - believes she’s being haunted by a demon.”

“What kind of demon?”

“She speaks of a massive black dog, but it’s little more than the grief-stricken raving of a woman who’s lost her brother to tragedy.”

“I left, shaken, knowing that the curse would continue. It’s been another two years since then. My wife died, mercifully, a few weeks ago, tormented by growls and padding in the night until her mind and body could bear it no longer, and her heart gave out. I have never seen the demon dog pursuing us, though I got word some months ago that Kilmore’s sister was found barefoot and in her nightgown in the woods, with her throat torn out by something.

“I hear padding now, though. Sometimes the growls. I know it has finally come for me. And even now I hear scratching at my door. Soon it will be inside.”

The clearing rang with silence. After a few minutes, Arthur cleared his throat again. “Unsurprisingly, that is where the journal stopped. There were more pages, but what wasn’t chewed was clearly blank. Termites, or mice maybe?”

I was astounded to hear Simon speak more calmly than I had ever known him to in my entire time on the Ark. “If Grandma Kim and Lyric suddenly decided to take a stroll in the woods, I am going home and none of you can stop me.”

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#the miys #halloween #found family #ghost stories #camping trip #original fiction #science fiction #original sci fi #original writing #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #humans are crazy #hfy #aliens #apocalypse #post-apocalypse #humans in space

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the-deeds-to-shibden · 4 years ago

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Sunday 15 September 1839

[Sadly, the bugs did bite Ann the previous night. But she is rewarded by the finest view she has ever seen, the bay of Vyborg, and sketches its fortress. Meanwhile, Anne is appreciative of the local costumes and food, and as usual entranced by the botany and geology. She even tastes the local seawater! Anne’s trusty parasol comes handy in scientific enquiry, not for the first or the last time. Her own sketch, of a bridge, is, uh, not very accomplished, but the engineering detail is recognisable. As ever on this overland trip to St. Petersburg, which is nearing its end, Anne writes and writes and writes, and this day’s entry is *very* full of researchable detail, including a stately home they pass by, which is perfectly identifiable from her notes, and which has a slightly tenuous lesbian connection...]

[up at] 4 3/4

[to bed at] 10 1/4

Damp morning Fahrenheit 60 1/2º at 5 a.m. I am all ready now at 5 35/” no coach house therefore paid for man watching the carriage last night -/50 and paid Gross this morning for paid yesterday for ditto ditto – -/50 – with all the exertion I have made it is 6 3/” when we get off – 3 minutes later than the time – damp hazy morning – forest immediately on leaving the station neither of us slept well last night – Ann much bit – we had nothing but plates and cups and saucers and knives and forks and table linen and our one double bedded room and servants room and paid 4/20 – Scotch fir this morning barked all round for a yard or 2 from the ground at 6 20/” little distant left fjord or lake – road red coarse as yesterday sandy but good tho’ much rain in the night – forest and little breaks all the way to Säcjarvi at 7 1/2 a lone house in the forest – small but goodish – as the gentleman said yesterday at Högfors one might sleep at

Nisalak 15 1/6 v[ersts] Helsingfors 237 v[ersts]

Urpala 16 4/6 v[ersts] Wiborg 44 1/2 v[ersts]

St. Petersburg 181 v[ersts]

Säcjarvi but Urpala seems a good deal the better of the two – same sort of forest and road as yesterday but less population and boulders not so strikingly large – the soil here a fine red gravel as yesterday and many examples of gravel-conglomerate boulders – more cattle this morning than ever before since Åbo – no sheep today as yet – so few in those northern countries can only be just enough to supply the inhabitants with wool and a little cheese and mutton – they salt the legs (the hams) for winter – the Russian male costume this morning very pretty and picturesque a white frock coat and red belt – or blue or dark and often bound with the same – the women wear a strong linen? dark with narrow red stripes for petticoats and a boddice a jacket . . . and a white handkerchief on the head – they all weave the red striped stuff – and I have seen many men wear it for jackets and trowsers

8 25/” several baggage little waggons and 1 horse and some soldiers on foot now at 8 25/” just crossed little bridge over little stream and crossed a broader stream some time ago the only two streams this stage so far – the forest too less swampy than the forests yesterday at 8 3/4 considerable break in the forest – unpainted hamlet (we pass thro’) – one of the largest flocks of sheep we have seen (recently shorn) – log houses the trees not flattened big boulders all among the cottages – peasants wear black leather gloves like our hedging mittens – hardly out of the hamlet before the young forest begins again (Scotch fir and birch, alder bushes everywhere in the swampy places) – but more break, and fields another hamlet (scattered) at 8 55/” and at 9 over neat little ochre-yellow and white-seamed station house at Nisalaks the older portion of the house under the same room unpainted flattened log-house – breakfast boiled milk and Wiborg (criks?)

Wiburg 29 2/6 Helsingfors 252 1/2

Säcjarvi 15 1/6 St. Petersburg 165 5/6

Kiskila 14 1/6

bread tied up in a sort of rose – and made tea, and took my pint bottle full away with us – all ready at 10 – off at 10 20/” from Nisalax we should have lived better here than we did at Urpala, I suspect – nice little station – a little meat on the fire boiling when we came in, and our milk ready in 10 minutes or 1/6 hour – In 5 minutes pass thro’ the little hamlet – and then rocky forest and big boulders again road coarse red sandy as before but good – forest, till 11 1/4 good river – 2 or 3 good wood yellow painted houses scattered about and little unpainted scattered hamlet – nice bit of open cultivated country – then road red sand (but good) and the soil red sand – still damp and rather hazy – (Reading Handbook article Moscow) – soon forest again – at 11 3/4 look down upon beyond us (left) the handsomest gentleman’s house we have seen in Finland, surrounded with park-like grounds – little hamlet scattered hereabouts – house and 2 wings – white with pea green roof – at 11 51/” our neat good yellow and white pilastered station at Kaskilä and broad sheet of water at a little distance – front – another pavillion-like gentleman’s house almost in front (to the right) from our station yellow with pea green roof and white corners and a white hexastyle portico (with pediment – the gable end) fancifully painted coach houses and stabling and unpainted barns and cottages scattered about the fine sheet of water coming close to the house – very pretty

Wiborg 15 1/6 Niserlax 14 1/6

St. Petersburg 153 2/3 Helsingfors 266 ½

hue – our stage last night to Urpala very picturesque – and ditto this morning – big boulders again conglomerate red granite as yesterday picturesque foresty stage to here – corn (rye) out in cocks here – soon Scotch fir forest again – the cranberry and moss and heather dispute as usual possession of the rock and boulder – 12 7/” a little farm and 2 little stacks of corn thatched with straw and then spruce branches laid on the tops – here and everywhere about they lay Spruce fir branches at the doors to keep one clean instead of mats when it is dirty as it always must be in wet weather was this custom of strewing branches in this way (as palm branches as our Saviour rode along etc.) originally to keep one out of the dirt? now at 12 50/” sandy and heavy road up hill in the forest – at 1 from the top of hill Wiborg in sight, and its fine islandy fjord, immense expanse of water and 10 arch wood bridge over arm of the fjord on left to which we wind down and cross (deals and big boulders) now a 1 7/” – beautiful wooded islandy expanse of water on each side – very fine drive from here – at 1 10/” cross another 10 arch wooden bridge – the large square tower and 3 small pointed towers of Wiborg full in view left from the bridge – fine wooded drive from here – the water right – damp very small drizzling rain – bouldery common just before entering Wiborg – at 1 20/” the 1st barrier and archway – then a 2nd archway and water and wood bridge 13 arches to cross a steamer lying at the quai – very fine view of fjord and tower, the old, brick castle close (right) on a little island – this was the large square tower I saw at the top of hill at 1 – enter the town at 1 25/” – at the Society’s house good Inn at 1 1/2 – sent Gross with my passport to the police – asleep – could not be seen till 3 – had my hair done and Ann and I out at 2 40/” took Gross to shew us the police – close to the gate by which we entered the town – recrossed the bridge on 20 wood pillars piers each formed of 5 – then up the fort-hill – near the bridge right on entering the town – beautiful view of the fjord and suburb to the westward – returned by the water side – observed the big pieces of red felspar in the porphyritic (conglomerate?) of the rocks – then on passing the bridge again and reentering the town turned left along the rampart – Ann stood sketching the old brick castle on a little island fjord or round moat all round – Ann sketched the old castle – its tower octagon that looked square in the distance – the 3 upper stories of the tower seem roofless – the fjord on this side (towards the sea) very beautiful islandy and wooded as far as one can see – the water on the opposite side the tower very picturesque but more like a pretty islandy lake – Deal sheds – a large raff yard near left (looking northwards) and little unpainted hamlet scattered a long way along the water’s edge – hamlets, too, right, and nearer, sweeping round to the town, a large handsome suburb with good church yellow with red roof and tower cupola pea green – Viborg a large town taking in its suburbs – a large handsome church in the large square opposite our Inn – 2/3 the men one sees are soldiers in their long, plaited-in-behind fawn-grey great coats – they look like monks or women? then along the rampart to a little postern gate – went out came in at 5 1/4 dinner at 6 to 6 3/4 out at 7 for a minute or 2 to see the church en face by it about 1/2 way or more towards the good suburb – then turned (right) towards the sea, along the outside rampart breast-work, of the fortress – went to the water’s edge – tasted the water – merely a little brackish – not at all salt – beautiful view from a round knoll of bare granite rock of each pier formed of five uprights with a spur from each side of the foot of each upright

on the top of the rock (right, on entering the town – and close to the bridge – some sort of fortification there) on the top of the rock large where bare, observed the same ochre-yellow moss I saw on the large old oaks in the park at Stockholm – and in returning by the water side a little of the blood-red moss I first observed north of Upsala – scraped a little off with the point of my parasol stick – it was pulpy and vegetable-like – tho’ the water trickling down it, made it look shining and so like recent blood, I almost thought at 1st (there being but a little patch of it) that it might be blood – the wide-expanded, lovely, wooded amphitheatric islandy fjord – the light at 4 3/4, beautiful – the dark distant boundary of pine forest backing the smooth light water very fine – Ann thought she had never admired a scene more – 2 brigs on the stocks here (little trading vessels) returned by the gate nearest the sea, the road winding within the outworks – then sauntered along the rampart within the walls – very fine view, nearly the same as before, of the fjord, but saw rather more of it – good town – a regular fortress – reminded me in this respect of Rocroi where we slept last year – came in at 5 1/4 – wrote a little dinner at 6 – very good fried Sprax a fish tasting a little like carp? excellent veal cutlet with currants on the top and lemon and I ate it with excellent preserved raspberry, and we very good preserved green gooseberries looking like olives and preserved candied lemon, and sago pudding, and good coffee afterwards – after dinner the opposite church door open, went in for a minute or 2 – a sort of priest or man about the church came to see what we should do – 2 candles burning at 2 silvery shrines – but nobody in the church – too dark to see much – back at 7 1/4 and had Grotza, but so long about getting and paying for Podoroshna and changing money and paying the bills that it was after 9 before all this was done – the small damp rain and haze cleared off between 2 and 3 p.m. and afterwards fine afternoon and evening Fahrenheit 58º now at 9 10/” p.m. our bill 16/20 – could get no copper money – pretended they had difficulty in giving me 2 five kopek pieces change against the bill – and in charging my money they gave me two 25 kopeck bills and one 5 kopek – 55 Rubles for my Finnish rubel notes some kopek notes 75s and a few 50s

Anne’s marginal notes:

Russian costume

men black beavers with buckles

strewing Spruce branches instead of mats

WYAS pages: SH:7/ML/TR/14/0005 SH:7/ML/TR/14/0006 SH:7/ML/TR/14/0007 SH:7/ML/TR/14/0008

“Wiborg bread tied up in a sort of rose” that Anne and Ann had at Nisalahti (today’s Chulkovo) station during this leg (click here for a recipe):

“another pavillion-like gentleman’s house almost in front (to the right) from our station yellow with pea green roof and white corners and a white hexastyle portico (with pediment – the gable end)” - the house Anne saw on the way and described thus is the main building of Kiiskilä Manor, where members of an important family of 19th-century Finnish intellectuals grew up, including Helmi Krohn, the first biographer of “the Sappho of Finland”, Isa Asp (image source):

A view of Vyborg in 1837, by Pehr Adolf Kruskopf (image source):

The Vyborg Society House (left), the inn where Anne and Ann stayed in Vyborg (image source). The building was destroyed during the Continuation War.

Vyborg around 1938, including the castle and the Fortress Bridge (image source), an earlier (but similar) incarnation of which Anne sketched in her journal in 1839:

The Fortres Bridge in the early 18th century (image source):

and in Anne’s sketch:

A view of Vyborg Castle, by Torsten Wilhelm Forstén, from 1840, a year after Anne and Ann saw it - and Ann sketched it (image source):

A view of Vyborg bay - “ Ann thought she had never admired a scene more“ (image source):

#anne lister #ann walker #gentleman jack #travelnotes1839 #finland1839 #russia1839 #russianempire1839 #annelister #annwalker #anne lister code breaker

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moth-and-raven · 4 years ago

Text

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

We fly back through the narrow passageways chased by Lucio’s howls of protest, Julian explaining in fits and bursts what his plan is. Skylar is an old friend, he says, that he met when he still went by Ilya. If anyone would know something about what had happened three years ago, it would be him. I ask why he hadn’t considered contacting him before, and, with a guilty shrug, Julian admits that reaching out to old friends was never something he’d been good at. He and Skylar would often go years without interacting, only to run into each other again in the most unlikely of places.

With any luck, that can happen again.

Portia opens a panel in the wall for us to escape through. We emerge in a familiar corridor, the same one that led us to the greenhouse last night, and follow it outside. There’s a great gathering of servants on the other side of the lawn, overseeing the setup of a number of tents. Portia’s gaze lingers, guilt knotting her brow, before she turns away and ushers us down the narrow path back to her cottage.

Pepi barely stirs from her warm sunbeam, twitching her ears at our entry. Portia shushes her sleepy mew and steps into the sitting room, gesturing for us to make ourselves at home. “So where to now?” she asks.

Julian sinks onto the sofa and sighs, patting the space next to him in invitation. When I join him, he leans his head against mine. “I would bet dollars to donuts that, if he’s truly here, we’ll find Skylar at the Red Market,” he says. “For the plants, you know. Marvelous specimens here.”

Portia sits down on an ottoman across from us. “You’ll have to change again, then,” she says heavily. “If you show up dressed as a servant from the palace, they probably won’t even let you in.”

“Do they think so little of Nadia’s policies?”

She sneers. “It isn’t Nadia they hate, it’s the rest of the court. Vulgora put up such a huge tantrum when the Market moved into the Coliseum, I swear they were gonna run down there and set fire to the stalls themself.”

“The Coliseum?”

“Oh, Ilya. You’ve been gone a long time, y’know? Lots of stuff has changed.”

“Surely not the Red Market. That’s been a standby of Vesuvian tourism as long as the Coliseum itself has.”

“They kicked the whole thing out of the canals of the Flooded District a couple years ago to ‘clean up the area.’ Like they’ve ever cared about the Flooded District…”

“Well, I know seedy underbellies.” Julian snuggles closer, brushing his thumb across the back of my shoulder absently. “Those are the same no matter where you go.”

Portia smiles at him. “I guess. I can’t come with you, though. I really need to help with Masquerade prep.”

Julian nudges me and chuckles. “I think we’ll be alright, don’t you, darling?”

I think we’re venturing into yet another arena in which I have little to no experience. But I nod. It’s just a market. Maybe the goods are a bit spicier, and the clientele a bit rowdier, but we shouldn’t be there long and if Julian says he knows what he’s doing, I’m inclined to trust him.

“Excellent.” He kisses my cheek. “We’ve yet to go on a proper date anyway.”

She rolls her eyes. “You have terrible timing.”

He catches my gaze and arches a brow, soft grin turning cheeky. “Don’t I know it.”

“Be careful, okay?” Portia stands up. “And go get changed. I’m not leaving you two lovebirds alone in my house.”

I don’t blame her for that. Julian laughs and rubs my thigh before retreating into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. I’m casting around for something to do, some way to help, when I notice Portia watching me with a grin like a cat and a gleam of interest in her bright blue eyes.

“So,” she says. “You and my brother, huh?”

Me and her brother. She said she would ask, didn’t she? “What about us?”

“That’s what you’ve gotta tell me, isn’t it? How long have you been an item?”

“Oh, uh…” I think back through everything we’ve done. “We met a week ago.”

She just stares. “What?”

I can’t help but flush an embarrassed scarlet. All of it — breaking up and getting back together, sharing Mazelinka’s tiny bed, the eel bite, talking late into the night at the Raven, even him sneaking into my shop… it’s all happened in the last seven days. “Yeah.”

“Damn, you work fast.”

I shrug.

“So… how’d it happen?”

“What do you mean?”

She shakes her head impatiently. “Did he see you at a bar and start hitting on you? Were you in line together at the chancery? Did he… did he run into you in the marketplace and knock all your groceries out of your arms, then help you pick them up and offer to walk you home? Come on, Reyja, I’m dyin’ here.”

That’s an oddly specific scenario. But I ought to tell her the truth. “He broke into the shop the night before I came to the palace.”

“He did what?! ”

I suppose it is rather scandalous. “It was kind of a misunderstanding.”

“Uh-huh, sure it was. And then he was in your shop again the morning we came down to give the Masquerade announcement because…?”

“Um, he was checking on me. We’d spent a lot of time together at the Raven the night before but had to call things early.”

“Why?”

“Guards.”

“O...kay. Have you had any legal interactions with him?”

“Isn’t interacting with him at all illegal, considering?”

Portia laughs. “Fair point.” She leans back and looks me over appraisingly. “Listen, Reyja, no one’s a bigger fan of my brother than I am. And believe me, I know how much of a handful he can be. But you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“I am.” I’m almost offended she would think anything else.

She smiles to herself. “He was right, then. You’re someone special.”

He was…? “You already knew all this.”

“‘Course I did. He would not shut up about you last night. Classic Ilya, never using a two-word phrase when a ten-word one would do. He pulled out all the stops, really: you make his heart soar, he feels alive again, he can actually see coming out of this for once… it’s cute.”

My embarrassment fades. It warms my heart to picture him so joyful, and it’s even better knowing it’s because of me. “So why ask me?”

“Because there’s two sides to every story. I know how he feels about you, but how do you feel about him ?”

I pause. “I guess… I guess there’s just something about him. Something in him that speaks to something in me.”

Tightness creeps into my throat, cutting me off, but I don’t want to stop talking. I’ve never verbalized any of this before, what I’ve been missing. What I found with him. Why I care so much, so quickly, and why I’m willing to do almost anything to keep him safe. He may think I’m someone special, but so is he.

“I think it goes a lot deeper than that, too, though,” I continue, pushing the tears away. “I’m not really a happy person, or at least I didn’t used to be. But I’m happy around him. Lighter. He makes me feel attractive and interesting and sexy. Like I belong somewhere. Like I’m… like I’m not as worthless as I always thought I was. He appreciates me just as I am. And— and I don’t want to be anyone else when I’m with him. I never want to be me, but I don’t mind it so much when I see myself through his eyes.”

That’s the biggest thing: I am, for the first and only time I can remember, comfortable in my own skin, because of him. Quiet settles in the room around us, fed by the weight of my confession. I wasn’t expecting to get so poetic, or bare so much of my soul, but Julian does that to me.

“So I guess,” I say softly, “To answer your original question: me and your brother? God, I hope so.”

“Oh, Reyja.”

That isn’t Portia’s voice.

“My darling, can I kiss you?”

I didn’t hear, or see, him emerge from the other room. But there he is, leaning against the door jamb, back in his navy trousers and loose white shirt. Portia is still perched on the edge of the ottoman, her hands pressed to her chest and tears glistening where she had been eyeing me slyly. I don’t know how much he heard, but it must have been enough.

“You can always kiss me, Julian,” I say thickly.

He’s at my side in an instant, sinking to his knees. His lips are cool and soft, not deepening the kiss until I do. We stay joined for a long time, breaking apart reluctantly only after we run out of breath. Even then, he stays close, pressing his forehead to mine and peering at me with both eyes visible, glowing with affection.

“Then I always will.”

------

The last time I was at the Red Market, I was terrified. Not because of the people, or even the contents of the many stalls I passed, but because I was doing something new. It’s been several years since then but trepidation still rises at the back of my throat as the Coliseum fills the sky, towering over us, weeping rubble from the cracks in its smooth marble facade.

The Market itself is accessed through a nondescript doorway. Sometimes there’s a guard or two, neighborhood tough guys stationed to scare away the palace’s minions that come sniffing around spoiling for a fight, but today we’re in luck. I hope it holds; it would only take one person recognizing Julian from the old wanted posters to spoil everything.

Even so, he’s excited. I’m sure it’s been a long time since he last did something like this. And as anxious as I am, I’m nevertheless pleased to be with him, out on the town just like he imagined.

Voices and smoke, spices and charring meat and, barely disguised, the scents of the underground, of unwashed bodies and piss and vomit and blood, slither out of the stonework as soon as we pass into the Market. It’s dark, dingy, as red as its name from the glow of torches and lamps lighting up the tunnels. There’s a decent crowd for the middle of the day, most of them hiding their faces.

I squeeze Julian’s hand and pull him to the side of the pathway. “We should get some masks,” I tell him, gesturing with my head at the steady flow of other customers.

He casts his gaze over them too. “I suppose so,” he says, with a wry smile. “But I’d rather my first gift to you not be so… so…”

“Practical?”

He laughs. “Or such an obvious reminder of all this unpleasantness.”

“It wouldn’t be your first gift.”

“Mm?”

“The starstrand?”

“Ah, yes. The first thing I purchase for you, then.”

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. He’s sweet, but now probably isn’t the time to be quibbling over such minor details. “Then let me get them.”

“Darling, the sentiment remains—”

“So does the problem.” I catch his hand and mesh our fingers, then stand on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “It won’t be the last thing we buy for each other."

Julian sighs into my touch and relaxes, just enough for me to relax a bit too. “No, it won’t. I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I reserve that right.”

“I’ll allow it.”

I kiss him again, in the wake of his adoring grin, and we step back into the crowd together. I shift to hold his elbow instead of his hand as we meander down the rows of merchants, keeping our eyes open for clothing booths. It doesn’t take long to find one that will suit our needs; I pick out a velvety black shawl that can dip low over my face and Julian finds a length of fabric to twist into something resembling a turban. I have to roll my eyes then: trust him to find the most conspicuous way to hide.

“That one, huh?”

He runs the cloth through his hands. “Is something wrong with it?”

“It’s bright red, Julian.”

“Is it? It isn’t a sort of brownish-gray?”

Wait… “Are you colorblind?”

He pauses. “Ah. This is Mazelinka and my coat all over again.”

“What happened?”

“Those inner panels? I was sure they were a nice dark brown, sleek and stealthy. Mazelinka laughed at me the first time she saw it and asked if I was trying to torment myself with memories of the Plague. I wasn’t, of course!”

“I’m sure you had fun convincing her it was an honest mistake.”

“I did my best. I don’t know if she believes me yet.”

I laugh and take the scarf. If nothing else, red suits him. And wearing red at the Red Market should only disguise him better, right? I pay for both without incident and help him cover his hair, artfully arranging the end of the turban around his mouth and nose to hide his profile as best I can. After I mask my own features with my new shawl, we set off deeper into the Market.

Julian is obviously comfortable here, navigating the twists and turns between stalls with ease. And never once does he choose a path I would struggle to fit through. We make a whole circuit of the catacombs without any sign of Skylar, but on the next round, I find my attention wandering. So we slow down, perusing the merchandise, looking for all the world like just another couple out buying some more unusual trinkets to keep things fresh.

At one booth, Julian wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his hands on my belly as he holds me close, rocking me gently and humming to himself. I lean into his chest, all thoughts vanishing in a flood of contentment; how he knew that I longed for touch like this, for connection and acceptance and— how he knew that I wanted to be loved like this, I don’t know, but he was right.

We while away at least an hour, maybe more, wandering the Market. With no daylight, it’s hard to tell the time. Eventually, Julian asks if I’d like to get some lunch, and I agree. We duck into a notch at the intersection of several rows of stalls, a larger space with some places to sit and a handful of food vendors scattered around the perimeter. We decide on a Karnassi gyro stand and fold ourselves into a corner to watch the crowd pass as we eat.

We’ve just started another circuit, the opposite direction this time, when luck strikes again.

I hear Julian’s sharp intake of breath, colored by his smile, and follow his gaze to a booth near the entrance. Admiring the books is the tallest man I’ve ever seen, his height made even more obvious by the curved horns emerging from his tightly-coiled hair. His face is unmasked; clearly he isn’t worried about being recognized, and his green eyes spark with intelligence even from a distance. He rubs the stubble on his chin and picks up a book, flipping it open one-handed and frowning slightly as he scans the table of contents.

Julian takes my hand and slips through the throng of market-goers, emerging in the empty space at Skylar’s elbow; he doesn’t even seem to notice us.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Julian chuckles, pulling his mask down. He has to look up into Skylar's face, something I’m sure he isn’t used to.

Skylar startles, but recognition washes over him almost immediately. “Ilya,” he says simply. His voice belies his size, soft and soothing. He puts down the book to wrap Julian in a hug, kissing his cheek too. “Nice hat. Vesuvia again, eh?”

“Vesuvia again,” Julian agrees.

“You’re a wanted man here.”

“They haven’t come after you, have they?”

“Of course not. And if they did, well… I have plenty of other places to go.”

Julian shifts anxiously. Before he can say anything else, Skylar turns his attention to me. “You’re with him?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m Reyja.”

“Nice to meet you, Reyja.” His green gaze darts between us as he chews his cheek, clearly working out exactly the manner in which I’m with Julian. Whatever conclusion he comes to, he must not be interested in pursuing it.

“I’ve, ah…” Julian clears his throat. “I’ve a rather big favor to ask of you, Skylar.”

“Alright.”

Just alright? Nothing else? No caveats?

Julian doesn’t seem surprised by his easy acceptance. He shuffles closer and drops his voice to a conspiratory whisper. “So, erm. I heard that, ah. You were here, weren’t you? Three years ago?”

Skylar frowns. “Yes.”

“And, ah, and I was here.”

“Yes?”

“Could you…” he trails off. “What happened?”

Several beats of silence meet his question. “What do you mean, ‘what happened?’” Skylar asks slowly.

“Erm, exactly that. I… I find myself in a bit of a… I remember waking up in a jail cell, and working at the palace for Lucio, but everything in between is a bit of a blur.”

Skylar blinks. And again. “Okay, well… uh, yeah, I was here. Helping. Helping you, specifically. You asked me, said the research side of the Plague could be an interesting topic of study. The Palace had opened its doors to anyone who wanted to come, so that wasn’t an issue. I never dealt with any patients, of course, I’d just watch from the sidelines. You even let me observe Count Lucio a few times.”

I smile to myself. I don’t think Skylar knows just how much Lucio enjoyed his ‘observations.’

“Is any of this useful?” Skylar asks.

Julian nods, his gaze unfocused as he tries to force his memories to return.

“I guess it’s not a huge surprise that you can’t remember. You, uh… you weren’t at your best, Ilya.”

He nods sadly. “So I’ve heard. Some say I lost my mind.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far. But you definitely weren’t doing well. You wouldn’t even tell me what had happened, that fucked you up so bad.”

“Really?” Julian shakes his head. “I had hoped…”

“Sorry. The most you told me was in the last few days before everything went to shit. You said that Valdemar was going to try something big soon.”

“Valdemar…” His voice is mostly breath, lost in the intervening years. Just the passing acquaintance I have with Valdemar sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end at the mere mention of their involvement. Portia had said they were familiar with the Plague. I didn’t realize just how close they’d been to it.

“Shortly after that, they sent me, and everyone else who wasn’t medical, away from the palace,” Skylar continues. “I stayed in town as long as I could, though. I didn’t want to leave you up there by yourself.”

“That must’ve been when…” Julian touches his eyepatch.

“Oh, I just remembered another thing.” Skylar shifts his weight and draws his palm along one of his horns, thinking hard. “You kept talking about a bird man. Like, half-man, half-bird. Raven, I think. You said it was going to help you stop death from stopping death.”

Despite the press of bodies around us and the faint warmth from the many torches and lamps, a chill settles into my skin in the wake of his words. Stop death from stopping death? What does that even mean?

At my side, Julian has turned ghostly pale. He mouths the phrase, wipes sweat from his forehead, skates his fingertips over the fabric of his patch. “I— thank you, Skylar. Thank you.”

“You alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m, ah… Valdemar, you said?” He turns to me. “The other doctor, it must have been them. They must’ve— I must’ve— The Plague, it’s— And, and…”

I touch his arm, alarmed. He’s rambling, his movements sudden and uncontrolled. Skylar and I glance at each other. Before either of us can do anything, though, Julian starts to pace, taking several steps towards the entrance of the Market and then coming back for me.

“Reyja, I— We need to— Thank you, Skylar, you’ve been more than helpful. I’ll, erm, I’ll be in touch. Yes? Yes. Are you staying at the— the…?”

“Um, Samal’s. The inn,” Skylar offers.

Julian laughs wildly. “Small world, small world. Say hello to Zhannur for me, would you? It’s been awhile.”

“Sure. Are you going to be okay?”

Julian takes my hand, squeezes it, and some of the mania in his expression fades. “Yes. Yes, I’m alright. Apologies. I just, erm. Amazing how a few simple words can bring so much back. B-but, ah, yes. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Either of you.” His gaze lingers on me and he smiles faintly. “Do excuse us, Skylar. I promise, we’ll catch up properly soon. Just like old times.”

Skylar cocks his head, watching Julian closely. But he does seem better already, and after a moment, he nods. “Good to see you again, Ilya. Take care.”

We wave farewell and Julian whisks me away into the flow of the crowd, hunching low to speak close to my ear.

“Valdemar,” he hisses. I’ve never heard him angry before, but the venom in his voice now is unmistakable. “They did this.”

“What?”

He gestures at his plagued eye. “I wasn’t working quickly enough for them,” he spits. “Too focused on patient care instead of finding answers. They held me down, forced essence of the Plague distilled from the beetles that carry it into my mouth…”

Horror crawls through me. “How dare they,” I breathe, shocked almost beyond words.

“Absolute power, as they say. Valdemar was given a free rein. Anything for the cure.” He pauses, and slumps. “Anything for the cure,” he repeats. “If only I could remember why it mattered so much to me. Beyond the obvious, of course. If I didn’t even tell Skylar, it must’ve… well. There are very few things he doesn’t know about me. I can’t imagine what would’ve made me keep mum.”

Mysteries on mysteries. But does this mean…? “So did Valdemar kill Lucio?”

He sighs. “It’s possible. They’d certainly be capable of it, considering—”

I never saw them coming. Julian never saw them coming. It took only moments, measured in the pounding footsteps of armored boots, the shouts of people used to being unquestioningly obeyed, a whirl of red and palace gold. In a beat of clarity, I meet Julian’s eyes. We have less than a second, but it stretches like spider silk as horrible understanding dawns over his features.

His luck has run out.

I scream when he pushes me away, sending me reeling into the gathering crowd, but it’s swallowed by the noise of the guards and no one gives me a second glance. I scramble to my feet to see Julian surrounded by soldiers. One of them, short, clad in quilted red, bares their teeth in his face. He snarls back and they lash out at the side of his head with a vicious-looking maul.

I scream again when he falls, motionless, to the cobblestones.

—————

Skylar belongs to @ollifree.

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#moth & raven #the arcana #the arcana fanfic #reyja north #julian devorak

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miss-pearlescent · 5 years ago

Note

So you can make whatever AU you want, but if I can have one kink can it please be Noona kink 🙈. When Jongin meets OC he always teases her, it’s definitely not innocent but she blows him off. One night, she’s out with friends and he notices her, noticing her being annoyed by this one guy so he decides to save her and is pleasantly surprised when she decides to indulge his teasing afterwards which then leads toooooooo😉😉 and if you do name the oc my name is Ayla ❤️❤️

The Swim Team’s Car Wash Fundraiser

Word Count: 4493

Rated M for Mature Scenes

You cleared your throat, though it didn’t do much over the rushing of the water.

Kim Jongin, the head of the swim team, was sitting at the edge of the pool, his broad back lined with muscles that allowed the droplets of water to tease their way down to his shorts. It was wrong to stare, so you cleared your throat again.

His teammates noticed you first and snickered, making your cheeks grow warm. The pool wasn’t a place you or your neat Oxford shoes belonged. You were used to sitting in an office or a classroom, organizing budgets and running fundraisers.

It was the only reason why you had to meet with Jongin in the first place. He had said he would be free at 3:00pm, right after swim practice ended, but it was now 3:05pm and he was still halfway in the pool.

As if he heard your thoughts about his tardiness, he looked over his shoulder and threw you a smile. You clutched your clipboard to your chest and dipped your head in greeting. You hoped he got the message that your time was precious and the minutes were ticking.

He said goodbye to his friends before grabbing his towel and climbing out of the pool. Water sloshed everywhere as he shook his hair out, and you looked away as he ran the towel down his body.

“Punctual as ever, Treasurer Noona,” he said as he followed you to the exit doors.

“Don’t call me that,” you replied, giving him a hard look from the corner of your eye. You had only recently gotten this position as treasurer of the council and you worked hard for it.

Jongin barked a laugh. “Fine, just noona, then?”

You shrugged because that was what he had always called you. Jongin had moved here years and years ago, when the two of you were still in middle school. Your parents had helped their parents adjust into the community and you were the good kid that helped the new kid adjust to his new school. Ever since he joined the swim team, though, his popularity had soared through the roof.

It didn’t bother you because it meant more time to focus on school.

You pulled out a piece of paper from your clipboard and handed it to Jongin as the two of you left the chlorine-filled pool area. “Here is the budget. Tell me what you think.”

He wrapped the towel around his neck and dabbed his hands dry before reading over the paper. His brows furrowed and you wanted to warn him that a drop of water was dangling precariously on the tip of his spiky hair. You bit your lip instead. “This isn’t enough. We need more for the extra lifeguard training happening this year.”

You knew he would say that. “Then how about a fundraiser?” you suggested.

Jongin ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in all sorts of angles. “The hell kind of fundraiser would a male swim team do? Swimming lessons?”

“Well, what would earn good money?”

As if on cue, a group of giggling girls passed by, whispering to each other as they cast glances at Jongin. Discreetly, you arched your eyebrows at him.

“What is it?” he asked, completely oblivious.

“I’m sure those girls would like to donate a few dollars to the all-male swim team.”

He glanced over at them but still didn’t seem to connect the dots. “I’m not going to be a beggar, noona.”

You rolled your eyes and pointed a finger at his naked chest. “Do you know how much girls are willing to pay to watch good-looking men do a performance half-naked?” Glancing behind you, you were relieved that the girls had left the building and were now getting into their cars.

“You think I’m good-looking?”

You spun around and took a step back, sputtering. “That’s not the point. I’m just speaking objectively. Coming from an objective point of view, you are not bad-looking, per se. You have to know that. You’re an athlete. You should use that to your advantage.” Shoot, you were rambling, weren’t you?

The corner of his lip turned up and you didn’t know if it was your imagination, but his chest seemed to puff up too. “And you think that I should do a strip show? That girls would pay a lot of money to watch?” He took a step toward you, but you held the clipboard tightly to your chest like a shield. He leaned in and you swore you felt a stray drop of water land on the tip of your nose. “Would you come watch me, noona?”

“N-no.” You pushed your glasses up, glaring at him down your nose. “I don’t have time for that kind of stuff.”

His teasing smile didn’t disappear as he stood there, watching you slowly lose the confidence behind your words. “Liar,” he whispered, his breath so close you could feel it tickle your cheeks.

Indignant, you pulled out the thick planner stashed in the book bag that hung at your hip. You flipped to this week’s page and opened it up. “Look at my schedule, Jongin. I barely have time to get my car washed this week let alone go to a show.” Your brother had taken the car to his friend’s cottage last weekend and brought it back full of dirt and grime.

Jongin ran his finger down the column for Saturday and stopped at the entry “Car Wash 10:00am”

He looked up to give you a smirk.

“What?” you asked.

“What do you say about a weekend car wash as a fundraiser?” he said, biting his lower lip. “We kill two birds with one stone: I get funding for the team, and you get your car washed.”

Your heart actually skipped at the thought. Not at the fact that Kim Jongin would be washing your car, but the fact that he had come up with a great fundraising idea. The weather was nice and it was going to be a holiday weekend next week. People will want to have a clean car for their holiday trips. “That’s a great idea!” you squealed, nearly jumping in the air.

Mimicking your smile, Jongin place a finger under your chin, gently turning your head up to look at him straight in the eye. “Actually, we’ll kill a third bird.”

You cocked your head to the side, not understanding what he meant.

“You’ll get to see me half-naked,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, tapping his arm with your clipboard as he pulled away, laughing to himself. “Money first, Kim Jongin.”

“Yes, money first,” he repeated. “Then good-looking, half-naked men, right?”

You shook your head and turned around but couldn’t hide the smile behind your lips. Jongin’s laughter behind you was contagious.

“See you this Saturday, noona!”

You finally steered your car into the line at the edge of the parking lot and clenched and unclenched the steering wheel with your sweaty palms. You didn’t know why you were so nervous or why your heart felt like it was lodged in your throat.

You just knew that you had anxiously driven around the block three times on this hot and muggy day, avoiding eye contact with the shirtless swim team member waving around a sign that read “$5 CAR WASH! FUNDS GO TO A GOOD CAUSE!”

It wasn’t until two of your friends had finally sent you a text that they were down the street that you finally pulled into the parking lot.

“Ayla!” You blinked and looked around, finding Chanyeol on the sidewalk also holding a big sign. He gave you a big grin and waved. “Good to see you here!”

“Of course. Here to support the team.” You patted the steering wheel as if to prove your allegiance to the swim team as if you were a big fan of everything they did.

Chanyeol didn’t look like he believed your words either as he pointed behind him. “If you’re looking for Jongin, he’s back there.”

“Ah,” your mouth hung open as you gave a quick scan of the full parking lot. Why did Chanyeol point out Kim Jongin? And now that you found the man, you had to look away quickly. “Thanks, Chanyeol. I’ll see you soon.”

He tipped his baseball cap and went back to waving his sign.

You proceeded to look down at your phone, pretending to be very interested in a text conversation. A shirtless Kim Jongin was just at the other end of the parking lot, talking with a bunch of girls who were similarly clad in very little clothing. He had had a hand on his stomach as if he was shy about all the attention he was getting for his nakedness.

You suddenly felt self-conscious about the outfit you had picked out today. It was a simple yellow tank top with jean shorts. You even put on flip-flops because it was so hot out today. But your bare toenails wiggled at you from the brake pedal. Maybe you should’ve gotten them painted first. All the other girls always wore French tips or dipped powder nails.

But it was hard to justify the time and money spent on getting your nails done when all you ever did was sit at a desk and move numbers around.

A knock came at the roof of your car. “Hey, no texting while driving.”

The voice made you jump and you dropped your phone between your thighs onto the floor of the car as you gripped the wheel tightly with both hands. “Sorry!” you yelped, looking straight ahead…and seeing that none of the cars had moved.

Turning to your side, you found a tanned chest with sculpted abs greet you. You knew that chest from a couple days ago when you had been eye-level with it. Kim Jongin ducked his head in. “Did I scare you, noona?”

“No.” You breathed out a sigh. “I just thought a tree had fallen on my car. You didn’t have to knock so hard.”

“Mm.”

You followed Jongin’s gaze to your lap and bent to pick up your phone. “If my phone is broken, Jongin, you owe me.” You dusted off the screen and turned it on to check.

“A personal show? Gladly.” Jongin let out a chuckle. “When do you have time in your busy schedule? Later tonight?”

You shot him a mock death glare and was thankful to see that he had a teasing grin on his face. “I’m here to get my car washed. That’s all.”

A series of squeals came from a few cars ahead and you craned your neck to find that a group of girls had gathered together and were being hosed down by one of the swim team members.

“Um…” You raised an eyebrow at Jongin.

He shrugged. “A bunch of the girls kept telling us it’s getting too hot today so we offered to cool them down.”

You pushed up your glasses and pressed your lips together, not wanting to say anything about it. This wasn’t your fundraiser anyway.

When the two cars in front of you finally went to a free spot, Jongin opened your door. “I’ll take your car. Go hang out with your friends. There are drinks and hot dogs by the trees.”

As you slowly stepped out of the car, you were slightly amazed by the sight of the refreshment stand. The guys only had a few days to organize this whole thing and they were doing a good job of it. “You guys really thought of everything.”

“I do have perverted treasurer up my ass,” he said with a wink as he took the driver’s seat.

Your jaw dropped. “Perverted?”

Jongin held his hands up in defense. “Who was the one that suggested the boys do a strip show to earn money?”

You closed your eyes and rubbed your temples as Jongin laughed.

“Go get some snacks, I’ll take care of this baby.” He patted the side of your car.

You began walking away, thoroughly embarrassed by Jongin’s comment. You did not outwardly suggest a strip show.

“Oh, noona!”

“Hmm?” You turned back, wondering if you had left something in the car.

But Jongin just grinned. “You should wear shorts more often. You look good in them.”

You forced your mouth not to hang open. “Th-thanks,” you replied stiffly as you turned around again and found your friends. But you seemed to have suddenly forgotten how to walk. The knowledge that Jongin had noticed your legs was making you even more flustered and suddenly you envied the girls that got hosed down a minute ago.

And as you chatted with your friends and drank some lemonade, you couldn’t help but think about Jongin’s compliment. He was always joking, but he seemed genuine when he had said that. Did he actually think your shorts were cute?

Thinking back, you shouldn’t have spent so much time this morning picking out your clothes and deciding which lip colour to wear because you could have spent those extra minutes getting in some more sleep. But Jongin had noticed the effort you had put in, and the thought made you warm inside.

It also made your stomach do a couple flips, and you were too nervous to eat the hot dogs that were being sold so instead you pulled out your wallet and bought one for each other your friends.

You grabbed one more to bring to Jongin as a thank you because you could see him diligently soaping up your car.

“I’ll be right back,” you told your friends.

The oldest girlfriend waggled her eyebrows at you. “Going to see your boyfriend?”

Your eyes bulged. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I didn’t say who I was talking about, Ayla,” she said, giggling behind her hand. “But you better go quick or else he’s going to be caught by that group of girls.”

You turned, red-faced, and saw that the same girls who had passed by the pool the other day were talking to Jongin. And they had brought him a lemonade.

You looked down at your hotdog, suddenly regretting your decision to go over there. Of course he would want a lemonade more. It was so hot today and he was working extra hard on your dirty car, trying to get the wheels squeaky clean after your brother had dragged it through the mud and back. He had no time to eat a hot dog when there were so many cars waiting to be washed.

You thought about ripping open the foil of the hot dog and stuffing it into your own mouth instead to hide the pout that was forming.

“Just go over there and talk to him,” your friend said, putting a hand on your shoulder. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

You grimaced. “I…I don’t want to bother him.” You didn’t want to be swarming him like the other girls. He already looked uncomfortable enough, his smile tight-lipped, his hand rubbing his neck. He didn’t need another girl taking up his time.

“Ayla.” Your friend grabbed you by the shoulders. “He is washing your car. Himself.”

“That’s because he made me drop my phone earlier. He’s just returning a favour.”

Your friend rolled her eyes. “For a girl who’s head of the class, I swear to god…” She turned your chin toward Jongin. “My boyfriend won’t even take out the trash let alone wash my whole car. Jongin is doing it happily out in the sun. And the fact that he keeps looking over at you?”

“He’s not looking over—” You stopped as Jongin glanced over and nodded, as if he had heard what you friend was saying and was just confirming it.

The hotdog suddenly felt like dead weight in your hands.

“Now’s your chance, girl. You got this!”

Before you could say another word, your friend shoved you away from the group so that you had to keep walking. One step at a time, you dragged your feet across the parking lot. There was no turning back now. You were already halfway there.

“Hey, Ayla!” You whipped your head to the male voice but couldn’t pick it out from the crowd. “Lookin’ hot there! Want a cool down?”

A frigid blast of water smacked you in the shoulder and you teetered to the side, trying to hide your face. “Stop—” A pair of arms came around your waist and picked you up off the pavement, turning you to the direction of the hose.

You wanted to scream but the water was directly hitting your face. Quickly, you realized your glasses had been knocked off at some point.

“Hey,” you sputtered, batting away at the water and the arms. “Please, stop.”

But nobody seemed to hear you. They were too busy laughing even as the water went up your nose and you began coughing.

“Ayla!”

Suddenly you felt your world teetering again and the arms let you go. You fell to the hard concrete, your knees getting scratched in the process, but you were just glad to be out of the water. You clutched your chest, trying to catch your breath as you coughed.

“The fuck was that?” you heard Jongin’s voice above you.

Without your glasses, you could only see murky figures, but you could tell it was Jongin standing in between you and the two guys. He shoved one of them back, putting more distance between you.

You watched as their voices rose, but you couldn’t tell who the others were. “We were just trying to get her nice and wet for you, Jongin.”

“What the fuck does that mean? Did I ask for that?” Jongin’s voice shook with anger. “Did she ask for that?”

No answer came from the guys, and you could see that others were forming a crowd to watch what was happening. This was too much attention for you to handle, but you couldn’t run away without your vision. “Jongin,” you murmured. “Do you see my glasses?”

You saw his broad shoulders heave a sigh and then he turned around to face you. You couldn’t tell the specifics of his expression, but you knew he was pissed.

“Here.” He picked your glasses off the ground but didn’t hand them to you. Instead, he helped you stand and put an arm around your waist. “Let’s go.”

Silently, you followed him, because without your glasses, you didn’t know where else to turn.

When he ushered you into a single bathroom stall, it wasn’t until he turned on the tap and began meticulously cleaning your glasses with a paper towel that you realized the two of you were alone.

You rubbed your arms and leaned against the counter. “Thank you, Jongin.”

He didn’t say a word, just continued cleaning.

Seconds passed by and you wondered what he was concentrating so hard about. The faucet was still running and he was still bent over the sink. “Is something the matter?” you asked.

“I…” he trailed off before gingerly handing you the glasses and turning off the tap. “I’m not sure. Try it out.”

You placed them on your face and turned to look at the mirror and realized two things.

Firstly, the frames were bent so they sat on your face in a funny position.

And secondly, you could clearly see the little pink flowers on your bra outlined by your soaked tank top.

“How is it?” Jongin’s voice whispered close to your ear as he peered over your shoulder to look in the mirror.

You spun around, not wanting him to see your embarrassing choice of a bra. “It’s fine.”

He blinked down at you, as if he didn’t quite believe you, and you couldn’t help but notice you were standing too close to him. You backed up a little bit on your toes so your butt could rest of the edge of the counter.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Your hand shot out to grab his shirt—to stop him from turning away and beating himself up—but he didn’t have a shirt on.

Instead, you skimmed his hard abs, sending a shock through your system. You pulled your hand away, but not before hearing him exhale a small hiss.

“Jongin, it’s not your fault,” you pleaded, craning your neck so he could see the sincerity in your eyes.

But he was staring at the ground, shame darkening his eyes.

You put your hands on both sides of his face. “Jongin.” You forced him to look at you. “None of this was your fault. You did great today. Look at everything you organized in a few short days. It’s not the end of the world if there’s a hiccup here or there.”

You smiled, hoping he would copy you, because you realized you enjoyed his smile. You liked it when he teased you. And it made you sad to see him so serious.

“Noona,” he choked out.

You tilted your head, listening hard because his voice was so low. “Hmm?”

“If you don’t let go of me now, I’m going to kiss you.”

Your eyes widened and you realized what kind of position the two of you were in. Somehow, in the span of a few seconds, he was suddenly in between your legs and you had wrapped your ankles around his strong calves, trapping him there.

This position was not appropriate for a fundraiser car wash.

But it was exactly the position you wanted.

You hooked your arms around Jongin’s neck and pulled him down, pressing your lips to his in a gasping kiss. Your body felt electrified as Jongin’s hands quickly came to squeeze your sides, roaming and touching down your back and hips.

You moaned and gave a little nod as he slipped a finger under your tank top, skimming your warm skin. You never wanted to get a soaked piece of clothing off so fast.

He didn’t make it easier for you. He wouldn’t stop kissing you, even as he pulled your top higher and higher until it revealed your flowery bra. You squealed as he expertly popped the clasp.

“Jongin!” You pulled away and held the cups to your skin.

“Too fast?” he asked, panting.

You realized you were just as breathless. “No, but how far are we going? I don’t have a condom with me.”

“Always the planner,” he teased as he slipped the tank top over your head and helped you pulled the bra down your arms. “We have five minutes before people are going to start knocking. Let’s see how much we can squeeze in.”

You whimpered as he kissed the tip of your breast.

“Stop me if it’s too much, noona. I’m going crazy here.” His tongue came out to flick your nipple, making it hard enough so that he could suck it into his lush mouth. His hands pulled up your knees so that your feet landed firmly on the countertop.

Your hands shook as you rushed to unzip the fly of your denim shorts, anything to get these layers of fabric off. With every pull of his mouth on your breast, Jongin was sending waves of empty aches down to your belly.

You cried out as he turned to the other breast, this time less gently. Throwing your head back, you leaned on your arms to steady yourself.

“That’s it, noona. I owe you a good time, don’t I?” His voice was dark and raspy, as if he was having trouble holding himself back. Then, true to his word of giving you a good time, he slid his hand between your legs and pressed a finger to the thin fabric of your underwear. “Fuck, you are so hot.”

You tried to keep your hips still but you couldn’t help raising them, wanting more of him. You wanted him to keep touching to, to never stop. You wanted his lips on your skin, and you wanted his fingers stirring all your sensitive spots.

God, most of all, you wanted him inside you.

You clasped a hand to your mouth to hold back a loud gasp when he suddenly found your clit. “Oh, Jongin. Yes.”

Jongin gave a dark chuckle. “How could I miss it? You’re so swollen.”

He leaned in for a better angle and you had to put an arm around his shoulder, holding yourself in place while he worked his hand. You kissed his collarbone, trying to make this feel just as good for him as he worked hard, his finger quickly running back and forth over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm.

“C’mon, noona. You know you want to let go. I can feel you pulsing around me.” You moaned at his dirty words. “If I could stuff my throbbing hard cock in you right now, I bet your tight pussy would suck me dry. I’d spend all night in between these beautiful legs, making sure you were satisfied.”

“Oh, Jongin,” you whimpered his name through a shaky breath as you clung to him. “You’re going to make me come.”

“Good.” He continued the same pace, the veins on his arms bulging through. “I want you to cream in your panties for me. Just for me.”

You let your head fall back, and he took that opportunity to suck on a sensitive spot on your neck. That was your undoing. You legs curled up, suddenly shaking as your core pulsated. But Jongin continue playing with your poor clit, gently rubbing it back and forth.

Clutching his shoulders, your body seemed to convulse as you crested. You could feel a rush of warm wetness drip into your panties and you couldn’t stop the ongoing orgasm.

It wasn’t until you nearly slipped off the edge of the counter that Jongin took his hands out from between your legs to steady you.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes searching your face.

You thought you were seeing double until he adjusted your glasses a little bit. “Mm,” you murmured as a reply.

He laughed and pulled you into a hug, letting your jelly-like limbs rest heavily on his strong body. “Noona, you should know something.”

You could barely open your eyes. “What is it?”

“I don’t do casual sex.”

You pulled back, blinking. “What do you mean?” You brain felt fuzzy, and you couldn’t comprehend words and thoughts very well at the moment.

But you could see that he was still hard behind his flimsy swim shorts. “It means I’m going to want you even more from now on.”

You squeezed your thighs together at the thought and you knew he could hear the lewd noise caused by the wetness in your underwear. You snaked an arm around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. “I think I’d be able to find some time in my schedule for you, Jongin,” you teased.

—

THAT WAS SO MUCH FUN LOOOOL I was actually a little stumped by this request because I never do noona stuff since….I’m not a noona to any of my biases lol I also debated between different AUs and I almost did a boxer!jongin but I decided to play it safe and I’m so glad I did because I am actually really happy with how it turned out :3 :3 :3 another note: I had wanted to save the glasses thing for a red riding hood AU but since I never write about glasses, I might as well do it more often!

Thank you for the request @ninibears-erigom ^^ You are always so supportive of all the writers and whenever you reblog a fic, they get a surge in notes (thank you for reblogging my vampire one-shot recently hehehehhehehehe) I hope you liked this one!

Thank you everyone for reading~~~

#exo #exo scenarios #exo fanfiction #kai #kai fanfiction #kai scenarios #jongin #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #superm #romance #smut #school #scenario #jock #nerd #noona

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