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sleepingelvhen · 9 months

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Sleeping Spider Lily Pt. 2

Blade/Reader NSFW Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- [🌹Part 4🌹] Minors DO NOT interact MASTERLIST Your world was turned upside down when you discovered the love of your life was alive and a completely different person. Now, you need answers, even if it was risky.

Nighttime on the Luofu was the most peaceful. For you, at least. Not many enjoyed strolling the less patrolled streets as you did, the mara-struck a blight upon the planet-ship that kept most everyone away. It made things easier for you; the further you strayed from civilization, the fewer guards there were, and the less likely you were to get reported to Jing Yuan for completely going against his request.

Maybe your logic was slightly skewed from the complete lack of sleep that muddled your logical thinking. Possibly also combined with the questions that consumed your mind. Questions only Blade would be able to answer if he was willing. If this reckless plan went wrong however…well, it’s been a while since you’ve sparred with someone.

Slipping through the shadows, you avoided another group of guards within Stargazer Navalia. Hood up to cloak your face, a deep breath to calm your nerves, and a moment to take control of a docked starskiff, soon you were flying through the Luofu, guiding your way to the only place you believed Blade would hide out.

The one place you haven’t been to in a few hundred years now.

Complicated machinery was quickly replaced by sand and the ripples of waves. A reminder of where the races of the Luofu came from before their home developed to soaring through space.

It was a familiar sensation when your feet sunk into the thin beach sand, a wave of nostalgia in your heart making you feel so lightweight it felt for a moment you were floating.

He was here, he had to be. It was like a second sense, something you once believed was a supernatural connection you had had with him. A bond that connected the two of you so that you would always know he was near. Part of you wanted to believe it to be true, but if you had gone this long not knowing he was even alive…well love makes you delusional.

Scalegorge Waterscape was beautiful enough to cause your eyes to water a bit as you approached the main entrance. Memories of friends…family…a love you had lost…they all appeared as ghosts in your mind now drowned by the now risen sea levels. Only a part of it still really existed, a platform with a statue depicting the Imbibitor Lunae, another friend you had lost all those years ago.

Eyes fixated on the statue, it took you a moment to really notice that you weren’t alone. You felt his presence, knew he was there. But a part of you didn’t want to look, scared to really face the reality of the situation.

“He must face his betrayal,” his darkened voice pulled you from your mind. A bit of a reminiscent tone within words that he attempted to make sound completely careless. “No one can run from a price to be paid.”

You finally turned to look at him. Surprisingly, he looked quite peaceful here, eyes staring up into the statue of Dan Feng. You thought you saw a flash of sadness in his eyes, maybe a bit of hope that he could return to the past. Or maybe that was just a bit of your own hope peaking through.

“Why have you come here?” Red eyes met your own then, you hadn’t even noticed he had turned to acknowledge your presence. Just like before, eyes filled with disdain and a desire to kill. But it was just what he was, it seemed. There was no desire in him to attack you, there was no intent to kill you. He was simply filled with bloodlust and it caused a shiver to climb up your spine.

“I…” your voice caught in your mouth. “I need answers.”

“Don’t we all?” He looked away from you again, eyes fixated upon the stretching ocean. You followed his gaze there, reminded of how this place used to look. Once filled with life, now beneath languid waves. Just a reminder of what you both had lost.

“Do you…remember me?” It was the only thing you could really think to ask. While it sounded so simple coming from you, it was just…the only thing that left the fog of your chaos-filled brain.

Blade huffed, almost a laugh. Aeons have you missed that. Blade never had a loud laugh like many, it was always cocky and short. One thing you had loved about him. Something that made your heart pang when you heard it again.

“I remember you…” His voice softened, eyes closed, refusing to turn to face you. “You seem to have changed.”

You gritted your teeth then and clenched your fists. With a deep breath, you walked forward, joining him where he stood. The silence was louder than the waves, louder than the crunching sand beneath your feet.

“We both have.”

Blade dipped his head in agreement, no reaction to you moving next to him. He didn’t move away, didn’t step closer, just stood there, staring out at the sea. You closed your eyes, trying to enjoy this for a moment, pretending it was like old times. The man beside you was Yingxing, and you were his lover. Standing upon Scalegorge Waterscape, simply reveling in the silence and one another’s company.

Back then, you would gently take his hand in yours and he would squeeze it to tell you he was there and would always be there. Back then, he would tell you about his day and about the ways he was improving in his craft. Or maybe he would show you a sword he was proud of. You thought fondly of the day he showed you Shard Sword, proud upon its flawless creation. The smile upon his face was one you had tucked away into your memories, so vivid you could look at it whenever you pleased.

“You came here seeking answers,” the growl in his voice pulled you away from your thoughts, your eyes opening, your head turning to see him staring down at you intensely. “Ask your questions.”

He had blue eyes once, you remembered. But the red, it was entrancing and almost suited him better than the blue. Despite all the changes he still looked like himself, still looked so gorgeous. It was always so easy to get lost in his eyes, so easy to search for the feelings he kept hidden. You saw it there, a subtle flash of vulnerability. Eyes awash with affection.

“How are you alive?” You watched as his mood fell a bit, his brows lowering, a sharp intake of breath hinting at something painful inside.

“The mara,” he simply said, unsheathing his sword, Shard Sword, and gliding his fingers against the golden marbling of its perfection. He hummed in consideration, nicking the pads of his index and middle finger, blood dripping down onto the blade, then onto the ground beneath him. Then, you watched wide-eyed as the deep cuts glowed and healed in simply a few seconds. Blade closed his eyes and sighed. “I pay my price in blood…and endless life.”

“Yingxing—Blade…” You stumbled over your words, correcting the name when you saw him turn his head away from you upon hearing his old name. He sheathed his sword, clenching the fist that he had previously cut.

“I left as I was cursed. Determined to die. Instead I became this. Immortal. Mara-struck. A blade to be used." His explanation made you understand truly what had happened. His allegiance with Dan Feng, his betrayal of the Luofu. Yes, they had found immortality in their search to revive their friend, but he was living proof of what that did to a short-life species.

“You have your answers.”

But you didn’t leave, you just stared at him, tears in your eyes. You were exhausted, heart-broken, and…still absolutely in love with this man despite who he had become. A criminal, betrayer of the Luofu, ally to the Stellaron Hunters, and the love of your life.

He took a sharp breath when he saw you staring, eyes darkening as he looked down at you. He cocked his head to the side, watching you carefully.

“Your general would not be pleased if he discovered you here,” his voice was low and breathy, as if he was whispering.

“Jing Yuan would understand,” you simply said, unable to take your eyes away from him.

“Hm,” Blade turned his head, gaze still fixated upon your face. The noise he made sounded like a growl, or a huff of irritation. He used to do that when Jing Yuan would get too close to you, too friendly. A dusting of pink colored your cheeks as you looked down at your feet.

“I missed you…you know. Every day.”

Blade didn’t answer you. Instead, two fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes, flickering with something that looked all too familiar. Intrigue, affection, and hesitance.

“Every day?” He asked, his voice husky.

“Every day,” you answered, your own voice growing warm and soft.

You swore you saw a ghost of a smirk grace his face, a glimmer of his arrogance.

“Hm…you are tired,” Blade pulled his fingers away slowly, the feeling of his touch lingering on your jaw. A soft gasp left your lips when he leaned in close, his lips against the shell of your ear, his whisper breathing a warm breath against your skin. “Go sleep, little dove. You will see me soon.”

He took your hand in his, his fingers slipping a piece of paper into your now weakened grip. As soon as he had been so close to you, he was walking away, hands behind his back as he regarded his environment.

You wanted to stay, taking a step forward to reach for Blade before you stopped and bit your lip. He was right, you were on the verge of falling asleep right here right now. And nighttime was almost over. You fought the urge to stay, and left the Waterscape, gliding back home on the stolen starskiff.

Once back in your room, you slipped into your sleeping clothes, sitting on the edge of your bed with the paper in hand. It was soft against your fingers, making your mind reel as you wondered what was within. Hesitance didn’t stop you as you opened the small slip of paper, revealing the message Blade had given you.

An address and a meeting time. He was hiding within a small building. Right here in the Divination Commission.

#blade x reader #blade hsr #blade smut #reader insert #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #yingxing #yingxing x reader

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ironboyxs · 1 year

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Night of the Broken Dragons

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Word count: 1869

Warnings: Reader is son of Rhaenyra and Daemon

pt2 here

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

- To my nephews, Jace and Luke, may they always be Strong.

It was with that speech that Aemond Targaryen ruined the entire family dinner, Y/N's brothers fought with his uncles while his father and mother tried to stop them.

Y/N could only watch Aemond from afar, wondering how much time he had wasted with his uncle, and how much he wanted to be there the night his younger brother removed his eye.

He always wondered if with his calmer spirit he could have calmed the situation, avoided the insults his brothers received, and perhaps avoided one of the great reasons for his uncle's hatred.

- Go to your room my love, you don't need to see this. - Daemon said in his son's ear.

Y/N knew in his heart, with a certain weight, that he was his father's favorite son. Technically he was the son of Laenor Velaryon, whom he greatly cherished and missed. But he knew that the reason his legitimacy had never been questioned was because his mother, in a meeting with Daemon after the wedding, conceived him.

He was the only "son" of Laenor Velaryon who had the blond hair and violet eyes, typical of the Targaryen house.

A soldier helped him get to his room, arriving at his quarters he kindly dismissed the maids who wanted to help him get ready for bed.

Despite being royalty, he had always liked simplicity and calm, his mother often called him her Meek Dragon.

A few knocks on the door echoed into the room and he could soon hear his mother's voice.

- Can I enter? - Rhaenyra asked.

- Of course mother.

The woman opened the door and came to meet her son, giving him a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

- I came to check if everything was okay with you, Daemon told me that you came to your quarters as soon as... the confusion started.

The princess's eyes grew a little heavy when she saw her son's sad expression.

- Will it always be like this? This endless fight? I miss when I was a kid and these things didn't matter.

- I'm sorry my love, families are complicated. And I know ours is especially complicated.

Y/N sighed, nodding with regret in his heart.

- Sometimes I think if I could do something to change this situation, I know I'm not the eldest child but I feel responsible for my brothers, I wish I could take care of them, have avoided this disaster that happened so many years ago.

Rhaenyra gave her son another hug.

- My dear meek dragon, I know that your heart has the purest intentions than any of us, but that ship was already predicted to sink long before your birth or the birth of your brothers. - Rhaenyra said while running her hand through her son's long silver hair - But I don't want you to worry about that, we'll be back home soon, you'll be able to go back to your normal routine and not be bothered by these matters.

With another kiss on her son's head, Rhaenyra said goodbye, wishing him good night.

Y/N was soon asleep, and a dream of a memory he still had hovered over his mind.

- Come on Aemond, the dragon cubs are still small! They won't hurt us - said a little Y/N to a younger version of Aemond.

The two children ventured to the part of the pit where the cubs were. Aemond always assuming a protective posture over his nephew, he still didn't have his dragon and he knew that his nephew already had one, but that wasn't enough reason for him to stop taking care of the safety of the beautiful young man with curious and excited eyes.

When they finally reached the baby dragons, only one was in sight where they could pet it.

- Are you sure it's safe? - Y/N asked, looking at his uncle with some fear.

- Yes, they are still easier to deal with. - Aemond replied as he affectionately approached the little dragon and stroked his head. - Come! He won't bite you.

Aemond took Y/N's hand and carefully guided him to the head of the small silver dragon, who seemed a little interested in both of them.

Y/N laughed and kissed his uncle on the cheek, who soon had a blush on his face with happiness.

- Thank you for coming with me. - Y/N said.

- One day it will just be me, you, and the dragons, my nephew.

Y/N has awakened. He was deeply sad that the dream was over, and he knew that it was one of the last good memories he had with Aemond.

He got up, already knowing that sleep would not accompany him for the rest of the night, put on warmer clothes and shoes and started to open the door, which was guarded by Sir Aric.

- Sir Aric, I'm sleepless and would like to take a walk through the palace gardens, would you mind accompanying me?

Y/N knew that the guard would go with him anyway, but he always thought that kindness could never be too much.

- Yes, my prince, it would be an honor.

The prince went out with his knight to walk through the night of the palace, with the lights low, and the gardens being lit only by the moon.

Not long after entering the garden, Y/N saw a figure with long silver hair, wearing a green cloak, sitting by the fountain, it was his uncle Aemond.

- Sir Aric, please wait for me at the entrance, I will talk to my uncle for a while.

- Are you sure, my prince? - The faithful knight asked.

- Yes, everything is fine.

Y/N slowly approached his uncle, sitting next to him, for a moment the two remained in an awkward silence, with only the noise of insects in the background.

- Couldn't you fall asleep either? - Y/N asked in a low tone of voice.

- Obviously not. - Aemond replied with disdain.

Another awkward silence fell between the two Targaryens but neither had the courage to move away from each other.

- Me, you, and the dragons... remember that? - It was Aemond who took the initiative to speak this time.

- As if I could forget... - Y/N said with regret in his voice.

- I was serious when I said that. - Aemond finally moved so he could look his nephew in the eyes.

- Lately I thought you had just decided to hate me. - Y/N said, now also looking into Aemond's eyes.

- I wanted to hate you, believe me I really wanted to hate you.

- Then why don't you hate it? Apparently it's so easy with my brothers.

- You know it's different with you.

- Why? Because I'm blonde and have violet eyes? Or because I didn't take part in that stupid fight you had when we were kids? - Y/N said, raising his voice.

- That stupid fight took my eye! -Aemond said, removing the eye patch and showing the jewel that was in the place where he also once had a violet eye.

- That fight took my best friend away from me... but I don't expect you to understand that.

Y/N began to deeply regret having approached his uncle, he didn't know why his calmness, always so constant around him, was disappearing, he began to withdraw from his presence when Aemond held him by the arm.

- Wait.

- For what? So we can exchange more childish insults as if we were ten years old?

Once again the little prince began to leave his uncle's presence.

- I need to tell you a secret - Aemond said in a muffled voice.

Y/N turned carefully, what could possibly be on Aemond's mind to share with him? Did he still have his trust?

- Y/N, there is something I have kept inside me for years, something I never dared to confess to anyone, not even myself. But tonight, with all these family conflicts, I feel like I can't keep this secret any longer.

Y/N, surprised, stares at Aemond, waiting for him to continue.

Aemond takes a deep breath and begins:

- Since we were children, from the moment I can remember, my heart has belonged to you, Y/N Targaryen. It's not a love that I chose, it's a love that just happened. And as much as I tried to deny it, repress it, and hide it, it only grew stronger every day.

Y/N is speechless, his eyes meeting Aemond's, full of emotion and uncertainty.

Aemond concludes:

- I don't expect you to feel the same way, and I understand the complications this brings to our family. But I needed you to know the truth, Y/N. My love for you is real and deep, and I can no longer hide it. I was serious that day in the dragon pit.

The two men remain silent, the weight of Aemond's confession hanging over them as the night breeze whispers through the trees of the castle gardens.

Y/N looks deeply into Aemond's eyes, his heart racing at his uncle's confession. After a moment of reflection, he finally answers truthfully:

- Aemond, I was not prepared to hear this tonight, and it takes me by surprise. But I value the courage you had in sharing your feelings with me. We are linked by blood and our complicated family history, and this confession just makes it more complex.

- I just don't want to feel rejected anymore.

Y/N listens to Aemond's words and realizes the deep pain in his uncle. He places his hand over Aemond's heart and says with empathy:

- Aemond, I understand what you're feeling, and the last thing I want is for you to feel rejected. You've always been an important part of my life, and I don't want that to change. Let's face this together, with care and respect one for the other.

Aemond looks at his nephew as if he were his whole world, and at that moment he was, nothing else mattered to him. Then in a rush he takes his nephew's lips for himself.

Aemond's kiss takes Y/N by surprise, but after the first moment of hesitation, Y/N allows his feelings to speak louder. Their lips meet in a kiss filled with emotion and desire, marking a new chapter in their lives.

Y/N feels a mixture of confusion and excitement, but also a deep connection with Aemond.

Aemond leans his nephews against one of the garden's stone walls and starts kissing his neck, knowing that in the morning those will be marks.

- Uncle... - Y/N moans.

- If you want me to stop, I will stop.

- No... uncle, I need you.

- You look beautiful begging but I don't want to take you here in the middle of the garden. May I accompany you to your quarters? - Aemond asks, excited about his love's correspondence.

-Yes. - Y/N responds, finally understanding all the times he felt incomplete, needing someone and never understanding why.

They had that night to themselves, nothing mattered, no family conflict, the succession of the throne, their parents, nothing mattered, they could deal with it later, but in that moment they would have each other and they would cling to it like one clings to life

#aemond targaryen x male reader #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targeryan #daemon targaryen #gay #angst

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boydepartment · 5 months

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‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.⋆｡ “i wish…”: anton lee x m!reader (PT. 2)

angst - fluff - masterlist - pt1 - wc - 300-350

the next time you saw anton was when they had a live event in the states again. you were nervous again and your hands were shaking.

the air felt light to everyone but you as you were guided backstage. you could hear fun loud chatter and fans excitement throughout the hallways.

you should be excited to see your friend

if he was just your friend

when you got backstage your saw anton’s dad and made small talk with him, just trying to distract yourself from having to see his son again. you felt guilty almost, and this guilty feeling inside of you just kept lingering even after the fun event shenanigans. you were so caught up in everything and your own emotions that it made everything draining and not fun.

to everyone else though, you looked fine. you looked happy.

you thought you were masking your feelings really well.

your high school friends chatted at the restaurant dinner table, they kept asking anton questions about his life now. you messed with your straw just staring at the ice in the glass. you wish you could just freeze yourself, then you’d just wake up 100 years from now and you wouldn’t have to worry about this feeling.

“are you even allowed to date?” one of your mutuals asked, this broke you out of your concentration. you watched as anton answered, laughing slightly, brushing hair out of his face. you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“well… i mean not- not publicly- i don’t know it’s complicated.” a few giggles escaped anton and you wanted to bury yourself. his words again ringing in your head

i wish you were a girl

if you were a girl, i’d marry you

the words kept ringing in your head again, taunting you. quickly you stood up grabbing your wallet and slamming a 20 on the table, “that’ll cover me, i- i need to go.”

you quickly pocketed your wallet and phone and got out of the restaurant like your ass was on fire.

you walked down the street a smalls ways away, it was dark and you were sure no one followed you. at one of the closed stores you leaned against the brick wall and covered your face.

the lump in your throat becoming too hard to swallow, you squatted down and started to cry in your hands.

it was hard enough hiding being gay from all your friends, but hearing anton’s words in your head almost 24/7 after that night a few weeks ago was a form of medieval torture.

“seriously what the hell is your problem today?”

you almost jumped out of your skin hearing his voice, you looked up and saw anton standing there, right when he saw you were upset his face softened and he quickly fell to his knees to help you.

“y/n? what’s going on come on talk to me!” anton softly held your biceps and tried to get you to look at him.

you kept shaking your head no and crying, it was too much, he was too much.

you didn’t want to be in love with him anymore

you yourself started to wish you were a girl because maybe then you’d have the privilege of marrying him like he said.

“y/n..! please… i can’t help if i don’t know…” anton’s voice got even softer and you couldn’t believe it.

“i broke up with her because she wasn’t a boy.” you stuttered out while crying still. your hair was messy and your sweater felt like it was choking you.

anton’s brows furrowed, “what the hell are you talking about?” it wasn’t attitude he was giving you. it was confusion.

“i didn’t- i dont- i-“ you were panicking now, you wanted to tell him. everything in you wanted to tell him.

anton scooted closer and tried to wipe your face off with his sleeves, “you can tell me i won’t judge you or anything…”

“my first serious girlfriend, the one you thought i was going to marry,” you took a deep breath, “the only thing wrong with her was that she wasn’t a guy.”

once again anton looked confused, “why would that- oh.”

you looked away from him, you didn’t want to face him at all, “i’m sorry..”

anton took a deep breath, “is this why you’ve been weird with me?”

you looked at him, “what are you talking about?” your confused tear stained face was a sight to behold to any passerby’s

“you’ve been distant and sad…” anton said looking in your eyes, he took a deep breath, “i wanted to ask what was wrong but i didn’t want to pry… was this the weight on your chest?”

your heart beat quickened and before even thinking you said it, “no i- i am um… i am also in love with you- i’m sorry. i’m so sorry i dont want to be and im scared and i know im not a girl-“

anton’s soft hands grabbed the sides of your face before he smashed his lips on yours. so quickly you fell back and gently hit your head behind you on the brick wall. quickly anton pulled away to ask if you were okay but you just chased his lips and kissed him again.

#anton lee x male reader #anton lee fluff #anton lee x reader #anton lee imagines #anton lee #lee chanyoung x reader #lee chanyoung imagines #lee chanyoung #riize comfort #riize x male reader #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize x reader #riize fluff #riize #riize anton

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goldfades · 11 months

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✮ 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, jump then fall au!

au masterlist! masterlist!

♡ ─ word count | 2.6k

♡ ─ summary | the story of how our little paloma came to be, and why adam has full custody of her.

♡ ─ warnings | mention of pregnancy (obvs), mention of abusive/manipulative relationship, some birth stuff but nothing graphic like at all, think that is all??

♡ ─ taglist | @literatureluster @valluvsu @lvrzegras @iminlovewithtz11 (fill in form in my navigation in you are interested!)

♡ ─ ev's notes | im finally back lol, the last nonnie inspired me to continue my series but i also saw the adam/luca content on instagram and i was like... yes i love these men with my entire soul. anyway, this is more background/filler chapter on the whole story behind adam/his ex. also idk if i did a good job making emma kind of unlikable but i couldn't make her too much bc at the end of day she is dovey's mom yk LMAOOO. but yeah, i was gonna include a little court segment but i didn't think it was necessary. this is kinda a summary of the timeline so yeah BUT YETH WE ARE BACK AT ITT!!!!! will be writing a more christmas-y one soon though i pinky promise :) LASTLY, my inbox is always open for au thoughts. please send them in, they literally make my entire day!

September ushered in a peculiar kind of unease, a restlessness that only settled within the corridors of high school, unbeknownst to Adam. The weight of impending change hung in the air, a feeling that clung to him as he navigated the familiar chaos that came with being a teenager.

It began with a murmur, a whisper weaving its way through the complicated tapestry of gossip. The news was illicit, news that would shatter the simplicity of his teenage years. Adam's ex, Emma, a figure exiled to his past, was harboring a secret that would bridge their worlds in a way he never anticipated.

The autumn breeze carried an unusual tension as Adam found himself standing before the door of Emma's house, a place he thought he had left behind in the remains of the failed relationship. She had called him about two hours ago, telling him that she had needed to talk to him immediately about something very important. He hesitated for a moment, hand poised to knock, before the door swung open, revealing Emma's worn expression.

"Adam," she greeted, her eyes avoiding direct contact, as if unable to meet the weight of his gaze. They hadn't talked in a couple weeks, since they had broken up.

"What's going on, Emma?" Adam asked, sensing the gravity of the situation even before she spoke.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, laden with the weight of the secret she carried. "We need to talk," Emma murmured, gesturing for him to enter.

"Yeah, figured." He sighed. He didn't know if he was able to trust her after all the lies she had told him over the span of their relationship. This may be one of her ploys to somehow get him back.

He went into the familiar home as she guided him up to her room anxiously and his mind was racing. What could possibly be so important that she couldn't text him, or tell him over the phone?

They reached her room and he sat on her bed as Emma paced anxiously, the rhythm of her steps echoing the gravity of her secret. Finally, she turned to face him, her eyes brimming with vulnerability that he hadn't seen in a while.

"I'm pregnant," she confessed, the words hanging in the air like a storm about to break.

Pregnant? Her words hung in the air for a few moments as he looked for any sign of deception in her expression. But no, she looked like she was about to break down in front of him. The room seemed to close in on him, and he could feel the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future colliding.

He couldn't even process it. "What?" Was all he could mutter.

Emma's gaze wavered as Adam's single-word response lingered in the room. The weight of the secret settled between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the life-altering reality they were now forced to confront.

"I didn't plan for any of this," Emma continued, her voice shaky. "I never wanted it to happen."

Adam's brow furrowed as he tried to process the mix of emotions swirling within him. Anger, confusion, and a distant sense of responsibility danced on the edges of his thoughts. His head was spinning with questions.

"Why now?" he questioned, the frustration evident in his tone. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Emma's eyes welled with tears, and she seemed on the verge of unraveling. "I didn't know how. I was scared, Adam. Scared of your reaction, scared of what it would mean for both of us. I mean I have school and-and I can't have a kid right now."

The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with unspoken accusations and the weight of their shared history. Adam's mind raced, torn between the desire to understand and the lingering mistrust that had defined their past.

Adam's jaw tightened as he absorbed her words, a tumult of conflicting emotions churning within him. "Scared?" he repeated, a sharp edge to his voice. "You think dropping this bombshell now will magically make things less complicated?"

He didn't want to sound like an asshole but he couldn't help it. All she was thinking about was her future, her life and nothing to do with what his dreams, the ones he's had since he was younger. How could he go into the NHL with a kid and unstable ex?

Emma's tears flowed freely now. "I never meant for it to be like this. I just... I needed to tell you. I can't do this alone, Adam."

He rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the growing tension. "You should've thought about that before. Now, what? What do you expect me to do?"

She reached out tentatively, as if seeking reassurance in the midst of the storm. "I want you to be a part of this, Adam. Our child deserves that, at least."

He takes her hand and his gaze softens as he heard her voice. Our child sounded so sweet, but he didn't want to go through what she put him through again.

He sighed heavily, a mixture of frustration and concern etched on his face. "Emma, you can't drop something like this on me and expect everything to be okay. We're not together anymore, and I can't just rearrange my life because of this."

Her eyes pleaded with him, desperation evident. "I know, but I can't do it alone. I need your support, Adam. We created this life together."

He pulled his hand away gently, creating a bit of distance. "Support? Emma, you've never supported my dreams. You made me doubt everything I did. I can't risk my future for this, not when I don't even know if you're going to stick around."

As the room descended into silence, the air seemed to crackle with the tension of unspoken truths. Adam's mind, however, echoed with the memories of a relationship colored by manipulation and emotional turmoil.

He couldn't shake the vivid memories of countless arguments, where Emma would twist his words, making him question his own sanity. Her subtle undermining of his dreams and aspirations left a trail of self-doubt that lingered long after their fights and maybe relationship had ended.

Emma's manipulation often took the form of subtle remarks disguised as concern. Every success he achieved was met with a backhanded compliment or a comment that subtly belittled his accomplishments. Her words had a way of eroding his confidence, making him second-guess his abilities. Was he even that good of a hockey player? Was he as smart as everyone would tell him?

She played on his insecurities, subtly exploiting vulnerabilities he hadn't even acknowledged. Emma's behavior manifested in controlling behaviors, whether it was telling him who he could spend time with or subtly isolating him from his support system. The gradual corrosion of his social connections left Adam feeling increasingly dependent on her for validation.

Emma's manipulation extended beyond words or fights; it was their daily interactions. The constant emotional rollercoaster left him drained and disoriented. Adam had become used to walking on eggshells, terrified of setting off another emotional outburst.

Adam found himself grappling with a mix of anger and resentment. The secret of her pregnancy now added a new layer to their complicated history, one that threatened to entangle their lives again.

The heaviness of the past hung in the air, a palpable reminder of the emotional scars that had yet to fully heal. The silence in Emma's room mirrored the unresolved scars of their relationship, leaving Adam to confront the challenging path that lay ahead.

He thought he had ended this relationship for good but now, he truly couldn't leave. Knowing that if he wouldn't stay, she would raise the baby alone and he would live forever with the knowledge of his kid somewhere with her. If they were to be together again, even just to raise the baby, he would promise that he would try to shield the baby from his mother as much as he could.

Emma's eyes brimmed with tears as she pleaded, "Adam, I'll change. I promise. I never realized how much I hurt you until now. I want to be a better person, for you and for our child."

Adam hesitated, his gaze flickering between her tearful eyes and the haunting memories of their past. The room seemed to close in around him as he grappled with conflicting emotions.

"Okay, Emma." He sighed. She let out a sob of joy, bringing him in for a tight hug.

──

JUNE 11, 2021

──

Summer arrived quicker than either had expected and soon enough Emma was in third trimester. In the sterile confines of the white hospital room, Adam stood witness to the arrival of their daughter. It was a moment of transformation, where the happiness of newfound fatherhood collided with the stark reality of uncertainty. Emotions played on his face, he had no idea how he was going to deal with any of it.

But as soon as tiny newborn baby laid in his arms, all the worries and uncertainty had faded into background noise as he held her with all the care in the world.

In that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The worries, the uncertainties, the complexities—they all became distant as Adam cradled his daughter. Her tiny features, scrunched face, and the weight of her presence overwhelmed him, he couldn't help but tear up. She was perfect in every way. In that moment, he promised he would never let anyone hurt her in anyway possible.

He felt a surge of love, a protective instinct that whispered promises of care and unconditional devotion. The uncertainty that had clouded his thoughts seemed inconsequential in the face of the profound connection forged with this tiny being.

"She's perfect," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. The fragility of the newborn, the embodiment of a shared history and a future full of unknowns, stirred something deep within him. All he knew was that he loved her more than anything even if he'd only held her for a few moments.

Emma, watching Adam with a mix of exhaustion and affection, couldn't help but smile. "She's got your eyes," she remarked, a tender note in her voice. His pretty, big blue eyes. The first thing anyone ever notices about him.

Adam nodded, his gaze fixed on the tiny features of his daughter. "Yeah? Well, she's got your everything else," he added, a gentle chuckle escaping him. The weight of fatherhood settled on his shoulders, but in that moment, it felt like a privilege.

The room seemed to shrink, focusing solely on this new family unit. The soft whimpers of the newborn, the beeping of the monitoring equipment, and the distant sounds of the hospital—all merged into the backdrop of a moment that felt suspended in time.

Emma looked at Adam with tired yet contented eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. The room, once filled with the tension of labor, was now a cocoon of familial warmth.

Emma whispered, her voice hoarse from the exertion of childbirth, "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

As Adam and Emma marveled at the beauty of their newborn daughter, the hospital room's door creaked open, and Adam's parents entered with a blend of excitement and nervousness. His mother, a mix of emotions painted on her face, rushed forward to embrace Adam.

"Oh, Adam, sweetheart, you're a father!" she exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears of joy.

Adam smiled warmly, hugging his mother. "Yeah, Mom. Meet..." His words died on tongue when he realized they hadn't picked out a name for her yet.

"We haven't decided on a name yet," Emma adds quietly as she yawns.

"What about Paloma? Like your grandmother. It's perfect, just look at her."

Adam's eyes met Emma's, and for a moment, a silent agreement passed between them. Paloma—the perfect name, a homage to his grandmother, a symbol of heritage and a new beginning. They exchanged a nod, and Adam turned back to his parents.

"Paloma," he said, a smile breaking across his face. "Her name is Paloma."

The decision settled like a warm blanket, wrapping around the newborn with a sense of identity. Paloma, their little dove, had found her name in the embrace of a moment filled with love and the promise of a shared journey ahead.

──

Adam's frustration simmered beneath the surface as he and Emma found themselves ensnared in yet another argument. The air in the room crackled with tension, a silent precursor to the storm that was about to erupt. Paloma, blissfully unaware in her crib, slept soundly, while her parents grappled with the unresolved issues.

"I can't keep doing this, Emma," Adam muttered, his jaw clenched. The weight of unresolved issues hung heavily between them, each word an echo of past disagreements. "We need to talk."

Emma, her expression defensive, crossed her arms, a subtle defiance in her stance. "What's there to talk about, Adam? Everything's fine."

A bitter laugh escaped him with the weight of their shared history. "Everything's far from fine, and you know it. Paloma needs stability, and you can't keep pretending that everything's okay when it's not."

Emma's eyes flashed with irritation. "I'm her mother, Adam. I know what's best for her."

Adam's jaw clenched, frustration palpable. "You barely spend time with her but refuse my help. Every time I ask you to be a part of her life, you find an excuse. This isn't fair to Paloma, and it's not fair to me especially when you dragged me into this in the first place."

Paloma stirred in her crib, a subtle reminder of the fragile peace that hung in the balance. The argument, a reflection of their complicated past, loomed over them, threatening to unravel the delicate threads that held their connection together.

Emma's gaze hardened, and she retorted, "I didn't force you into anything, Adam. You were a part of this too, remember?"

Adam's frustration escalated, his voice sharper. "I was a part of it because I wanted to be a father to Paloma, not because I wanted to be stuck in this cycle with you. I can't keep watching you push me away, I wanna be apart of her life-"

She scoffed, a bitter edge to her tone. "You act like I'm the bad guy here. I'm doing my best, Adam."

"You dragged me into this," he continued, a sharp edge to his tone. "I fought to be a part of Paloma's life because I wanted to, but you make it impossible. This isn't about us anymore; it's about her. You need to step up and be a mother, like you'd wanted to almost a year ago when you decided to have her."

Emma's eyes narrowed, defensive walls fortified. "I am her mother. But you don't get to dictate how I should do things. I have my own life, Adam-"

"And Paloma is a part of that life, whether you like it or not!" Adam yelled, the frustration in his voice reaching a boiling point. "I can't keep covering for you, Emma. My mom asks where you're at and half the time, I don't even fucking know. You can't just show up when it's convenient for you and disappear when it's not."

Paloma's soft cries began, the room filled with the sound of her distress, a reflection of the anger surrounding her. Adam's frustration transformed into determination. "I won't let you keep hurting her with your inconsistency, especially when she's old enough to remember. If you can't be a constant presence in her life, then maybe it's better if you're not a part of it at all."

The words hung in the air, a heavy proclamation that seemed to mark the unraveling of their already strained connection. Emma, caught between defiance and vulnerability, met Adam's gaze with a steely resolve, setting the stage for a tumultuous chapter in the story of Paloma's fractured family.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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judasgot-it · 9 months

Note

Hiii! I suddenly had an idea like a vision or something tehee

imagine after a party (idk, hunting dogs celebrating another victory) and s/o’s feet hurt for her heels so tecchou noticing, carries her on his back. sorry if it was simple

btw Can i call you Judy and be 🪻anon?

You've gifted me a nickname and all I did was ignore you. I think the best thing that should be done is that I write your ask and that you beat me (jk please don't I'm just a writer. but ily flower anon that nickname is so sweet u have full use to call me it <3)

Scenario: Husband! Tecchou carries fem! reader around while at a party (TW for reader being a little drunk at some parts lol)

1 k words

Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Wiser

1:15 AM

The work party was still raging on.

Fukuchi and Teruko were screaming a duet into the karaoke machine, some sort of anime intro that Tachihara complained only old people would know.

Jouno was surprisingly still in the room, forcing some poor chef to make another batch of some overly complicated dish that apparently only Jouno could appreciate. There was a gun on the table, although surprisingly it wasn't pointed at anyone yet.

You could breathe a sigh of relief at that.

All you were looking for now was Tecchou. He had gone missing around half an hour ago, doing who knew what. He was the one thing keeping you alive at this party, considering how you were one or two drinks away from either passing out on the floor or just trying to take yourself home.

Your feet hurt, what else could you say? Maybe you were a little bit too drunk right now since you were sad over where you had placed your shoes. They were somewhere in the room, you were sure of it.

It was a really emotional endeavor, enough that you felt tears start to come to your eyes thinking about where you placed them. You tried to wipe them away the best you could, trying to not hit your face with the pair of shoes you were holding in your hands.

You walked across the room, hoping to find your husband in the crowd of very important government people whose names had lost you at that moment. Thankfully no one approached you, although maybe it was because they were all as messy as you were.

Tecchou was one of the tallest people there, and even on your tippy toes, you couldn't find his messy chestnut hair in the sea of heads. The feeling of panic started to settle quickly, your heart almost beating outside of your chest - your husband could be almost anywhere.

You turned around, feeling your tongue fall into your throat as you still couldn't locate your man. Wiping your wet eyes, you watched as a man approached you - tall, with messy chestnut hair.

Swallowing deeply, you tried to compose yourself as you saw his eyes land directly onto yours. Against your will, your eyes began to well up with tears once again.

Your feet guided you, rushing towards him like a bullet.

There was no thought as you wrapped your arms around him, your face buried down inside of his red suit. You sighed with relief as you felt your cold nose start to warm up against his body, the air you breathed our fanning against the cold skin on your cheeks as you nuzzled deeper onto him.

“Oh, there you are Angel.”

Two hands pulled at your arms, their warmth shocking your cold skin into goosebumps. His fingertips danced along your skin, callouses massaging your skin all the way up to your shoulders.

“I was looking for you. I was starting to think you got lost.”

You looked up as you said this, blinking innocently up into his honey eyes. He leaned his head a little bit away to stare at you, the tattoos on his cheek blending in with his long eyelashes.

Watching them twitch made your lips curve up, how they perfectly melted in together. You took one of your hands and pulled his face to look down at you properly, his brows pinching as he took in the full sight of you.

“You're so pretty Tecchou. Do you ever hear that?”

He smiled at those words, leaning closer into your hand.

“You told me that on our wedding night, actually.”

His brows pinched again, his gaze looking downward once again.

“Angel, why aren't you wearing your shoes?”

His words took a little to sink in, you still too busy watching how his beautiful face pulled apart as he said those words - the tattoos underneath his eye moving just underneath the small creases from his smile.

“Hmm… My feet hurt.”

You other hand lowered itself, cradling his waist as you swayed to the music that played throughout the room. It was easy to ignore the horrible singing that accomidated it, as you instead focused on the strong muscles that were barely consealed underneath Tecchou's suit.

He barely budges, only swaying slightly as he let you have your moment - watching you with hooded eyes. His steps were small, his heels clicking lightly against the tile of the dance floor.

“You know, if your feet hurt I can just carry you around.”

Stopping, you looked up at him, looking at his face carefully. His eyes held no lie, seeing as he was always a truthful man.

“Are you sure about that?” It was always polite to ask in your mind, even when you were challenging one of the strongest men you knew.

“I can lift twice your weight, you know that angel.“

A small smirk spread on his face as he said this, his eyes poring through your figure. His hands traveled down to your waist, squeezing you gently.

”I wouldn't break a sweat at all, if that's what you're worried about.“

You didn't have time to react as you stomach did twists, Tecchou manhandling you into a bride carry with ease.

”Oh my god, Tecchou!”

It was impossible to hide the joy in your words as he carried you, continuing the dance you had started earlier with ease. He hummed along softly to the song that still played, ignoring whatever wailing words were coming out of a horribly drunk Fukuchi's mouth at that moment.

It wouldn't ruin yours at the very least.

“What? I'm not going to let you walk around while your feet hurt.”

He danced with ease, completing a lazy waltz with you in his arms. His soft locks were lit up by the chandelier above, turned into a soft caramel from the light that shone through the strands. They stuck up in all sorts of directions, forming a creme brulee halo around his face.

You brought one of your arms to wrap around his neck, bringing your fingers to sift through the longer strangs of his hair. It was soft, almost an estactic feeling to have something so ethereal under your hand.

“You're so gorgeous.”

His face was closer to yours, his nose nearly brushing against yours. You giggled, stealing his air as you did so.

“I think you said that to me on our wedding night, handsome.“

His lips were pressed against yours, his handsome face blocking your vision for the rest of that night.

#Idk why im thinking i have a very feminine voice while writing #not bad i think i guess its just a thing i have #idk i use this account to try to improve my writing and this is something i think ive noticed #i might try more scenarios that are based around actions cuz i lack a lot in that area #anyway i wrote half of this to the nutcracker btw so if it seems cheesy its cuz it is someone take tecchou fluff away from me #im rambling here tbh #tecchou x reader #tetcho x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x y/n #tecchou x you #tetchou x reader #tecchou bsd #tecchou x y/n #tetcho x reader

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mariclerc · 2 months

Note

Hi, I saw that you are taking requests for footballers so I wanted to ask if you could please write something with Antoine Griezmann x reader like a friend to lovers' kinda situation I don't really have a plot I just want more fics of this man

Thank you very much for this request!!! I understand you, searching for fanfics of this man is a rather complicated task 😭. I think I did my best with this, I hope you like it <3<3

More than friends | ag7

Summary: where you and your best friend have mixed feelings for each other. Warnings: none, just fluff.

a/n: let me know if you would like another part of this!! <3

How much you adore your best friend is inexplicable, you are capable of going to the moon for him and you know perfectly well that he would do the same thing for you. The first time you met Antoine, a couple of years ago, he had just arrived in Madrid from San Sebastián, he had signed the contract of his life with Atlético de Madrid, it was a golden opportunity for him and his football career, while you were finishing your university degree. You were his tourist guide and his first friend in Madrid and there was a certain chemistry between the two of you since the very beginning... The thing is that you both are best friends and you shouldn't have feelings for each other.

A long time has passed since that first time you saw that lost Frenchman, you are currently in his house, dishes are scattered across the coffee table, remnants of a good and delicious dinner. Antoine is dressed comfortably in sweats while laughing at one of your silly jokes, you sit beside him with a shy smile playing on your lips. You've always been much more reserved than him, but tonight, there's a comfortable silence between the two of you, a familiarity that years of friendship have built.

”Oh god, y/n, this is so so nice!” he sighs while having a smile on his face. “We really needed to meet, you know?” He says and you nod.

“Definitely, just like the old times.” you said softly at him. “I missed this Anto.” you say while smiling.

You love how easily you fall back into this comfortable rhythm with Antoine, even after periods of not seeing each other as much.

The conversation drifts between past memories and shared dreams, you talk about his upcoming season, the pressure, the thrill. You listen intently, your shyness melting away as you get lost in his passion.

There's a lull in the conversation, a comfortable silence that settles between you, Antoine reaches out and picks up a stray strand of hair that's fallen across your face, tucking it behind your ear. His touch sends a jolt through you.

“You know? You're amazing y/n. Seriously, you're so strong, so kind, so funny, honestly the best person I know on earth... Why you haven't found someone?” he says softly.

You flinch a little bit at the question. Relationships haven't exactly been your forte, you tend to scare them off with your quiet demeanor. The thing is that you two have been going through some... not so pleasant times in the romantic department, to put it in a way, on his part, he tends to be very direct with girls and be very demonstrative. While you, since you are quite calm and shy, boys get scared or simply take you for boring and don't feel like going out with you.

You sighed. “Maybe I just haven't met the right person, dating is.... Exhausting for me, and you know that.” you say in a soft whisper.

“Well, maybe they just haven't met the real you.” he whispered softly at you. “You know? The one who laughs until her stomach hurts and secretly watches cheesy rom-coms.”

He winks, and you feel a blush creep up your face, he knows you so well, even the little things you keep hidden.

You look down at your hands, suddenly self-conscious. “Maybe... But guys just... they get intimidated or bored, I don't know.” you say in a whisper. “They are all idiots and assholes, I guess.”

Antoine leans closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Well, maybe you just haven't given the right guy a chance... What if I told you I wouldn't be intimidated or bored? What if I told you I...” He trails off, his eyes locked on yours.

You can feel the warmth radiating off him, and the air crackles with unspoken emotions. Your heart hammers in your chest, this could be the moment.

Then, slowly, and inevitably, Antoine leans in and you meet him halfway. The kiss is a little hesitant at first, a simple brush of lips, then deepens. It feels electric, a familiar and strange feeling at the same time.

You pull away, breathless. Your eyes meet Antoine's, a mixture of confusion and desire swirling in their depths. This wasn't the plan for the rest of the night...

But as you gaze into his eyes, a question forms on your lips. “Antoine... what are we doing?” you whispered softly.

A slow smile spreads across Antoine's face. “Maybe figuring it out y/n.” he also says in a soft tone.

“Antoine... this is so crazy. We've been best friends forever... What if it ruins everything?” you said with a slightly trembling voice.

He cups your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet firm. ”Maybe, but maybe it won't... Maybe this is what we've both been missing all along, we can figure it out together, y/n... Just like we always do.”

His words hold a quiet conviction. You stare into his eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within you. Taking a deep breath, you reach up and touch his cheek.

“Okay” you sighed and smiled at him. “Let's figure it out.”

A slow smile spreads across Antoine's face, relief and joy mingling in his warm blue eyes. He leans in, and you meet him halfway once again, ready to take this leap of faith together as a team.

The kiss is electrifying, a mix of newfound passion and the familiar comfort of your lifelong friendship. This is uncharted territory with him, but for the first time, it doesn't feel scary. It feels exciting, exhilarating, like the start of something incredible.

When you finally pull away, Antoine rests his forehead against yours, his breathing shallow. “So... what now amour?” he said with his voice barely a whisper. (love)

You can't help but smile, a spark of newfound confidence flickering within you. “How about we start by watching that cheesy rom-com I mentioned? And maybe, just maybe, we can figure out the rest along the way.” you say while grinning.

Antoine throws his head back and laughs, the sound genuine and carefree. He pulls you into a hug, the familiar warmth sending a comforting shiver down your spine.

“Sounds like a plan! Just promise me one thing chérie.” (darling)

You nod at his words. “Anything!”

“Don't stop being you, okay? I love you just the way you are.” He says as he looks at you intensely and you blush like a schoolgirl with her first love. “Look at you! God, you're so adorable baby!” He says in a soft voice as you push him a little, he laughs and you join him.

Tonight, everything feels different... the future is uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, you feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can have it all - your best friend, and something more...

The night stretches before you, a canvas ready to be painted with the colors of a love story between friends waiting to unfold.

#football players x reader #antoine griezmann #antoine griezmann x reader #grizi x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football x reader #antoine griezmann fluff #antoine x you #antoine x y/n #mariclerc fics #friends to lovers

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ninthcircleofprythian · 4 months

Text

Unbound

Part 2 - Don't Pull Away

Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?

Word Count - 3.2k

Warnings - angst, emotional turmoil (Az), mentions of past abuse, fade to black scene

Author's Notes - this continues the background portion of the series (one more after this before we get into the main portion of the plot)

Part 1

Keeping their courtship a secret for as long as they had certainly hadn’t been easy, especially since their two closest friends were mated to each other. When Celeste had broached the topic of breaking the news of their courtship months ago, he had rebuffed the suggestion.

“I’m not ready. Not just yet,” he had stated.

“Why?” she questioned seriously. “It’s been nearly six months since we’ve become serious, even longer if we count all the dates we went on before then. I’m not sure we will be able to hide it for much longer.”

She had started masking her scent in public after they had spent time with each other and suggested he should do the same. It was an idea she sprouted all on her own, but his emotions about it were complicated.

There was no sadness in her tone, just curiosity. She had learned very quickly that Azriel was an extremely private male and sharing his feelings didn’t come easy to him. She never pushed too hard or pried too deeply until she was sure he was ready.

“Nesta keeps trying to set me up on dates and I’m running out of excuses.” She saw him bristle at the thought before adding, “Plus, I don’t really like lying to my friend.”

Azriel’s skin felt tight at the mention of her dating other males. He had met a few of the casual dates of her past after Nesta had paired Celeste up before he had started courting her. Nesta’s choice in her own mate was infinitely better than the taste she had in choosing for her friends.

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered, the shadows tightening around his hand in nearly one fluid sheet as he flexed his hands into fist. “I’m just–I’m scared.” He sighed heavily, avoiding her eyes.

“Of what?” Celeste asked softly. While Azriel was definitely a private soul, Celeste was much more direct. She was gentle and empathetic but if she wanted to know something, she asked. It was something Az was still very much getting used to. She hardly ever skirted around things which was probably why her and Nesta had become such fast friends.

“I don’t really know. It’s just-” the words seemed to escape him and the whiffs of chatter the shadows kept swirling around his ears didn’t help. His brain felt like a tangle of knots.

“I think you do know. It’s in there,” Celeste leaned forward from where she sat on the sofa next to him, feet tucked under her and facing him, her knees pressed into his hip as she reached a hand forward and laid it on his chest. “Take your time.” She peered at him casually as if they had all the time in the world, head resting on her fist as her arm was propped on the sofa back.

Azriel stared down at the hand on his chest and watched as his shadows abandoned their perch along his ears and whirled in a pulsing ring around her wrist. He wasn’t sure if the hard thud of his pulse was because of Celeste’s proximity or her questioning. He centered his breathing to the shadow’s beat before trying again. “I’m scared because – once it’s out there we can’t take it back.” He met her hooded focus with a watery look of his own. Her countenance didn’t flinch. She understood what he wasn’t saying but guided him anyway.

“Would you want to? Take it back?” Her thumb began a slow rhythm against his shirtfront in time with the shadows that still lingered there.

“No,” he answered hastily. “No, of course not. But–once we put it out there–” Azriel attempted to center his breaths again but only ended up with one shuddering inhale. “Once it’s out there it can be taken away.”

Celeste let him collect his focus for a moment. After a pause in silence she moved her hand from his chest and drew one finger down the side of his jaw, applying slight pressure to get him to turn to her. “Azriel,” she breathed out and he shuddered, his wings shaking the furniture. “It could be taken away now too.”

The thought so simple, so plain and obvious now that it was spoken aloud, had never occurred to him. The idea that keeping this a secret meant it was safe and protected fractured in his mind. His eyes widened and she resumed the pacing of her thumb, this time along his cheek.

“Just because we keep it hidden doesn’t mean it can’t be taken away from us,” she continued gently. “If a time of hardship happens to come, wouldn’t you want to suffer with people around who love you rather than suffering alone?” She had ceased her movements, the shadows stilling at the same second she did.

Azriel sat there feeling like she had just broken open his chest and read the darkness inside like a book, a feeling he was very much not used to. Suffering alone was all he had known. The only suffering he shared, the only suffering he had done with others was because something happened to them collectively and even then he avoided sharing his own grief. Anything that had ever happened to him and him alone was always insulated. Always his and no one else’s.

Celeste had known where to pluck out that mess of knots from because she had once battled the same fight. She had been subjected to terrible things at Tyrik’s hand in the past and then left alone and broken. Suffering in isolation with no one to console or comfort her had nearly been as hard as the physical healing. The life she was leading now, the one she had nearly lost her life for, was once her greatest wish. The friends and family she was now surrounded with had been what brought her that inner peace. Without them she didn’t want to imagine the mess of a person she could have become.

Azriel’s focus zoned out while he pulled on that mind tangle Celeste had brought to the surface, feeling for the loose end with which to unravel it. She swore she could almost hear the gears working in his mind.

“There it is,” she whispered softly against his other cheek. “I told you it was in there,” she held herself there, Azriel feeling her warm breath brush across his face before she placed a gentle kiss to the spot and sat up straight.

“We can wait,” She stated matter of factly. “We don’t have to tell anyone just yet.”

Two days later, Azriel was sent up to Windhaven for an extended trip. This was the same place that had brought him so much suffering in his early life but also brought him so much joy in bringing him his brothers. The juxtaposition had always been a confusing one to Azriel, but usually when the feelings cropped up he had just ignored them. Shoved them deep down inside that darkness to examine later. Often, later never came. This time however, the chasm that Celeste had ripped open was still raw and shoving those creeping feelings down did nothing but to spit them back out from where she had read him.

For the entirety of the first week, he took to the training ring every morning and every night, pushing himself against the wall of exhaustion with defense and weapons and weight training. When that didn’t work he laid in bed at night and held that tangle in his mind’s eye, just staring at it until sleep took him.

Nearly three weeks into his stay, Celeste had arrived for a healer camp rotation. Azriel had been shocked to see the outline of her ample frame trudging alongside Rhys from the camp boundary where they had winnowed in.

Seeing as the attitude towards females in the war camp wasn’t exactly welcoming, chaperones were a required necessity for all healers rotating through the camps. Azriel had stepped in to shadow Celeste on all her patient visits.

“Your camp rotation wasn’t for another two months.” He pointed out when they were alone the next morning in the rickety cabin that was used as a clinic. Celeste was shuffling around preparing supplies, laying out bandages and tonics on a tray.

“Well,” she said with her back facing him. “When you didn’t come home I figured I would come to you.”

Home. The word made that chasm in his chest twitch.

“I told you I was staying longer.” He said from the corner where he had been for the last hour. “You really didn’t need to change your schedule for me.”

Celeste had turned now to face him, staring directly into his eyes unflinching. “Yeah, a note. I have to miss our date this weekend. I am needed here a bit longer. I’ll be in touch. You got your point across alright.”

He had no response to that but his mouth twitched as he noticed her disappointment in his silence. Approaching him slowly from across the room, she placed her hand directly over the raw soul wound he could still feel inside him.

“Don’t push me away, Az.” She started softly as she leaned into her hand and tilted her head back to keep his gaze. “Take whatever time you need to work out whatever it is running through your head but please–please don’t pull away. Not from me.”

Celeste calling him out was never comfortable and she certainly had a knack for doing it. Rhys and Cassian loved him as a brother. Az knew that without a doubt but even they let him push away and isolate whenever his head became too loud with the thoughts he didn’t want to face. They didn’t poke and question. Celeste on the other hand spoke those thoughts aloud. She prodded deftly and guided gently. Pushing her away was the last thing Azriel wanted. He wanted her close by at all times, within his sight and tucked into his arms. He wanted all her mornings and afternoons and nights, especially her nights, for the rest of his days.

He spent his next few days at the camp standing quietly in her company, watching her nimble hands set bones, dress wounds and offer soothing touches of comfort. Often he noticed, when her work allowed them to reside in close enough quarters, that his shadows had begun choosing to gather around her remedying presence rather than swirl around in his brooding aura.

One afternoon, as Celeste had just dismissed the last patient from the clinic cabin, she began tidying up and gathering her supplies to prepare for the next day.

“Sometimes I wonder why we even have camp rotations,” she pondered aloud. “Most of the injuries I treat here aren’t accidents and most of the patients only allow me to treat the most severe ones.”

The patient she had just dismissed had done just that. Coming in for a shredded wing, he had an obviously broken arm in a dirty sling. The splint taped around his forearm had clearly been rushed and the bone badly set. But he had just clutched the arm tightly to his abdomen, outright refusing Celeste’s offer to access and reset it. “Just the wing,” he had said, the most important thing to an Illyrian aside from his siphons.

“It’s to teach them a lesson,” Azriel answered in monotone from the corner, shadows nearly obscuring him from view.

“And what kind of lesson is that?” Celeste responded snidely, not bothering to look up from her duty. “That they can be broken in more ways than one?”

He knew instantly that she was hinting pointedly at her own experience with being broken. In more ways than one. Azriel didn’t answer as he worked to tamp down the anger at the thought. His wings twitched with tension as that tangle bumped against the shields of his mind.

After a beat of silence she added, peering over into that darkened corner. “And do you agree with their teaching methods?”

Her eye line didn’t waver as she waited for his response, even as the shadows thickened and briefly covered him completely.

How could he defend the brutality that bred fierce warriors and the violence that taught them to exact their powers into weapons? How could he defend that as one of the warriors who knew first hand, to his sweet Celeste who had experienced the same treatment for different reasons? But were the reasons really that different? In both cases the desired result was the same - obedience. In the end he had come out a soldier, but Celeste had just ended up broken. His feelings about Windhaven had been conflicted since childhood but adding Celeste into the equation had made them impossible. The tangle inside his head slammed against the obsidian fortress of his mind.

“No. I don’t.” His quiet answer seemed to satisfy her although her face remained furrowed in thought.

A long tense bout of silence stretched between them with only the sound of her shuffling as she rolled bandages, the sun settling lower in the sky outside the window.

“Is that what happened to your hands?” She broke the silence, her voice strained. “A lesson?” Her own hands had stilled before her but her head remained staring at the table.

An unnaturally eerie stillness permeated not just his body, but the entire room. The shadows had revealed him fully and rushed to swirl madly around the hands she spoke of. He was unaware of how long it took him to answer.

“No,” Azriel finally uttered gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest to hide the swirling shadows. “That was my brothers.”

Through all the time they had known each other and throughout their courtship of the last months, Celeste had never commented on or shied away from his brutal scars. She often stroked a touch over them or swept her thumb across them, following their grooves with a finger like reading words on a page, but she had never asked about them.

Seeing the brief confusion flash over her features he quickly added. “Not them. Not Rhys and Cas.” He cleared his throat thickly. “My real brothers. Half-brothers.”

She didn’t ask any more questions of his confession, instead she looked at him pointedly and said, “From what I see, Cas and Rhys are the only real brothers.”

That night he had laid there staring at the ceiling unable to sleep, the mess of a tangle laying squarely in his mind’s eye. At some point he gave up on contemplating the knots and decided instead to start pulling. Pulling and twisting and feeling. The things that surfaced inside him had been buried for so long that they had grown fangs. Fangs and claws and venom. As he pulled on that gods forsaken loose end, those wretched things followed, but as they emerged into the light that Celeste’s chasm had created, he began to see they weren’t so fearsome after all. Even though they snapped and snarled, hissed and spit, Azriel could feel that they would be able to be tamed in time. They didn’t need to be defeated. They were just as scared as he was. They had only grown fangs because he had refused them the kindness of trying and instead shoved them away.

After what felt like an eternity, he had laid there in the barely lightening hours of pre-dawn, holding up that loose end, the tangle no longer a tangle but now just a string, and he had cried. Huge heaving sobs wracking his body and bringing him to his knees.

Oblivious to the time Azriel trekked the distance to the healer's quarters and banged the side of his fist upon the door. It took a few minutes for Celeste to rouse herself from sleep before the door cracked open a fraction and her velvety dark eyes peered out.

“Az?” she questioned as she pulled the door fully open. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” She stood there clasping her robe closed and taking in his appearance. His face was tense and rubbed swollen from crying, eyes red and puffy. The wind had ravaged his hair into a mess of dark curls falling into his face and the look in his hazel eyes was stricken.

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him over the threshold, “Az, tell me you are alright,” she reached up to grab his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Are you hurt?” The warmth of her touch banished the cold.

Still no answer left him, instead he mirrored her movement, grabbing her face in his ridged hands. She gasped from the shock of the wind ravaged chill that seeped into her skin, the shadows adding to her startle with a misty chill of their own as they seeped from his fingertips and down the back of her neck. Before she could close her mouth he swept his head down and claimed a hard sensual kiss.

He felt the heat of her face flood under his palms as a fierce color rose to her cheeks and it was his turn to gasp. She responded with a tenderly soft flick of her tongue against his teeth, sinking into his body and her hands slipping to his chest as she continued to reciprocate his kiss.

Reluctantly, Azriel pulled back and seared into her gaze with a determined look.

“I’m ready,” he said, his voice rasped from crying.

She shimmied against him with a gentle pressure from her thigh to the front of him. “I can tell,” she panted out a laugh.

“No – that’s not what–”

“I know what you meant,” she breathed out in another whispery laugh. “But for now–for just this minute–it can wait,” and she pushed the door closed, tightly shutting out the cold night wind.

As the fateful hour of Solstice dinner approached, Celeste stood adjusting the silver fabric of her dress inside the closet-sized bathroom of her apartment. Selecting a glittering pair of dangling starry earrings, she tilted her head and began placing them in her ears.

“Mmm,” a sultry purr rumbled from behind her. “You look amazing in that.” Azriel slipped in behind her having just returned from his trip to his townhouse. With an arm around her waist he tucked his wings as tight as they would go in the cramped space. With her hair swept up and pinned into a loose pile, he couldn’t resist nuzzling into her exposed neck. Shadows began lazily exploring the twists and turns of her hair strands, landing curiously around her hairpins as he voiced, “I’m heading out now.”

“Okay,” she said, tilting her head to lean into his. “I’ll be behind you shortly. I just have to pick up the last part of your gift on the way.”

“Hmm,’ he purred again, propping his chin on her shoulder. “I thought I knew what my gift was already.”

“Believe it or not,” she smiled brightly in the mirror's reflection. “Even the famed spymaster of the Night Court can still be surprised.”

“Famed huh?” he chuckled into her ear lightly.

A shiver ran down her spine as she swatted at the side of his face teasingly. “Go already. You’re going to be late.” Az released his arm from her waist and straightened as smoothly as he could in the close quarters.

“We are moving you out of here. Tomorrow. First thing in the morning," he said with irritation as his wing bumped against the door.

Celeste’s merry laugh filled the small space with sound. “Yeah, the Illyrian compliant apartments were a bit out of my price range,” she jested.

With Az still taking up the doorway it was impossible to turn around to face him. Celeste instead caught his attention in the mirror, “Az,” she paused as his eyes met her reflection. “I love you.”

She saw muscles of his face relax and soften from the usually neutral expression as a sweet smile spread, reaching his eyes with a crinkle. “I love you too, Celeste.”

Taglist - @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfiction #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #azriel acotar #azriel x original character #azriel x oc #azriel angst #acotar fanfiction

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thejournallo · 5 months

Note

Hey I'm the one who asked about the lucid dreaming methods. And no , you didn't ask a dumb question. Actually, I am trying to enter the void state through a lucid dream , and I would like to know the various methods or techniques that help to induce a lucid dream soo I can enter the void state 😅.

Hi! Thank you for clearing that up!

Some years ago, I started searching a lot about lucid dreaming, and some techniques were really interesting. I'll put my head up. I don't remember the names of those technicians, so I'll try to identify them by summarizing.

Here are some basic and common tips: Lucid dreaming is when you realize you are dreaming and have some control over what happens in your dream. To enter the state of lucid dreaming, you have to be aware that you are sleeping and that you are actually living in a dream, and that is the most difficult part of lucid dreaming. When exploring methods, I saw that most require you to meditate or keep your mind engaged while your body sleeps. (The main idea behind a lucid dream is that you can change it and even create a new approach.)

-wake up and fall asleep. (5/10; too complicated)

This method is one of the first that I tried, and in the long run, it is just tiring, at least for me. Basically, you fall asleep and have to wake up at least 3 hours later. Once you wake up, you go back to falling asleep, but this time you will slightly move one finger up and down. It does not have to be a full motion; it must be the softest touch possible because your brain must be alert but not totally awake in order to return to sleep.

-using your imagination. (7/10; good to keep your mind active)

This is how I fall asleep on a daily basis, and I only discovered a few years ago that it was a legitimate way. Simply sit in your most comfortable position and begin to envision whatever. It does not have to be about manifesting or entering the void, although if that is your objective, I recommend you do so.

-Write down your dreams once you are awake. (8/10; it is a slow method).

Something that I actually started doing is writing my dreams in a journal or in my note app, giving them titles, and writing down any details that I can remember. This not only helps us grasp the significance of our dreams, but it also teaches our brain that our dreams are significant, and you will begin to remember more, eventually leading to vivid and lucid dreams. I also suggest that you keep track of the time you sleep (I use my smart watch that tells me all the data when I sleep, but you can simply track the time).

-guided meditation (6/10; I have ADHD; I simply can't focus enough.)

This is a great way to also relax your body and become aware of your surroundings when you are falling asleep. They are easy, and I actually suggest you try them. It is not an effective strategy for me because I tend to divert myself, but you are your own person!

-Some shifting methods (8/10; believe me, they're worth it)

Several shifting methods, such as the Raven and Julia methods, are unintentionally good for beginning with lucid dreams. They help you because they keep your mind active and your body tired.

and i think that's all! @ddaycoming (i tagged you because you asked for some methods about lucid dreaming, forgive me if i disturbed you.)

If you are interested in other methods, I have a masterlist of things I have already talked about, and if you have more questions, don't be afraid to ask!

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englishstrawbie · 4 months

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Fluff prompt thingy:

Marina - 13. “I love you more than coffee.”

Please? 😊

Thank you for the prompt! I hope you enjoy it. 😊

>>>>>>>>>>

Maya hears her wife before she sees her.

The slam of the front door and the shoes that bounce against the wall as she kicks them off. The thud as her bag hits the floor and the soft padding of her bare feet on the wooden floor. The low grumbles of irritation, pieces of words and phrases that Maya partly understands, because she’s still learning and if only Carina didn’t talk so fast.

It has been the same thing every night. Maya scrunches her nose as she looks towards the monitor, counting slowly to ten as she waits for any sign of activity, relieved when Liam continues to sleep soundly.

Carina announces her arrival into the kitchen with a heavy sigh.

“Did I miss bedtime again?”

Maya can hear the distress in her voice and grabs a nearby chair, guiding Carina into it. Carina follows willingly, her legs weary after a long delivery this afternoon, and she lands on the chair with a plop. She leans into Maya’s touch as she smooths her hair and presses her lips to Carina’s forehead with a tender kiss.

“You know how important routine is,” Maya reminds her. “Besides, give it a few hours and he’ll be crying out for you.”

Carina’s bottom lip sticks out as she collapses back in her chair, her arms folded across her chest. The movement pulls at her shirt and shows off the small bump that has just started to grow. She looks sulky and Maya has to bite her lip to stop a smile from spreading. Her wife is adorable when she is grumpy.

She had hoped that the second trimester would be better than the first, once the morning sickness and persistent bouts of heartburn had passed, and some of Carina’s energy came back. She should have known better, considering how many articles she has read. Every day, something in Carina’s body aches or swells. Last week’s urinary tract infection had not helped either. Maya does everything she can to make her feel better – rubs her feet, fetches her ice water, offers her extra pillows to keep her comfortable, makes sure the house is as clean as possible, tidies away Liam’s toys so that Carina doesn’t trip over them.

“How was work?”

It is at this point that Carina’s face lights up. “You remember my mama having quadruplets?”

Maya nods, grateful that their IVF only led to one baby – because the thought of having four at the same time is terrifying.

“All delivered, safe and healthy this afternoon.”

Carina’s hand moves instinctively to her own belly as she thinks of the delighted expression of her patient when she saw her four bundles of joy. They would have to stay in an incubator for a while after being delivered at thirty-two weeks – a little longer than the average, thanks to Carina’s care and attention – but there were no complications and, for that, Carina is grateful.

“That’s great news,” Maya says, as she places a glass of peach iced tea on the table, the kind that comes in a can.

The kind of drink that Carina would have turned her nose up at a few months ago. But this week it’s all she wants. Well, it’s all the baby wants, she would argue.

“Mmm, you’re the best,” Carina tells her, licking her lips happily.

Maya chuckles. “Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh,” Carina says with a resolute nod. “You’ll be my absolute favourite if you got what I asked for for dinner.”

Maya’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “Are you sure?”

Carina nods enthusiastically, watching as Maya moves towards the refrigerator and pulls out the Hawaiian pizza.

“But you hate pineapple on a pizza,” Maya points out.

“Non-pregnant Carina hates pineapple on a pizza,” Carina says. “But pregnant Carina? It’s all she’s been thinking about all day. But…” She wiggles her finger at Maya playfully. “We never speak of this again, si?”

Maya laughs, a small shake of her head as she puts the pizza on a tray and switches on the oven to warm up.

“Of course,” Maya says, although she knows that she will enjoy teasing Carina about this for many years to come. She walks back towards her and leans down, kissing her lips this time. “Anything you want, my love.”

Carina smiles. “Grazie mille,” she says sweetly. “Ti amo.”

“You love me, huh? More than peach iced tea and pineapple pizza?”

“Assolutamente.”

“More than coffee?”

Carina pauses, looking thoughtfully.

“I knew it!” Maya exclaims, pretending to be offended.

Carina lets out a laugh and grabs Maya’s hand, pulled her close until she falls into Carina’s lap, although she is careful not to lean into her too much.

“Yes, my love. I love you more than coffee.”

Maya gasps, her hand on her chest in mock surprise. “You do?”

Carina’s face softens, her eyes warm, her lips curving into a smile. “Si. Ti amo infinitamente.”

A wide smiles spreads across Maya’s face that Carina chases with a kiss, before a gentle slap against her thigh.

“Now go and make my dinner, baby wants pizza.”

Maya laughs. “Yes ma’am,” she says obediently as she stands up.

Whatever Carina wants, Carina gets.

#station 19 #maya bishop #carina deluca #station 19 fanfiction #if you see me writing pregnancy fic no you didn't #it was just my excuse to write Carina eating pineapple on a pizza #my fanfiction #fluff prompt list #iamthelegman

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cloudyyoimiya · 1 year

Text

Close Your Eyes; Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Potential warnings: Manipulation, kidnapping if you squint, average Fyodor shenanigans.

Quick disclaimer: I do not own this song nor do I own little of the plot to this fic! It’s just loosely based on the song. Scroll down and read the lyrics here! I also do recommend watching the music video for this song as well. It’s right here.

“One day I am going to backstab you.”

Fyodors gaze peeked over to you. Intrigued, he responded with a question. “Why would you wish to do that?”

You shrugged your shoulders with a bored expression. You then slouched where you were sitting, trying to make yourself look as uninterested as possible. “Why not? It sounds like fun.”

You were a servant for the Decay of Angels; no one special. On very rare occasions you got to tend to the masters chambers, so today you considered yourself lucky when you got to clean Fyodor’s room. You even got to meet the man himself! You have only met him three times, and each time you found him more and more interesting. There was something about him that drew you in, closer and closer until you felt like you were about to burn up.

You didn’t love him, no, in fact you felt the opposite. You loathed him. You hoped that he would somehow die in a gruesome way, never to be seen again.

Then again, you wanted him to stay alive. You wanted to see him achieve his goals. You wanted him to guide you out of the dark.

Truly quite the predicament. To say that your relationship was complicated was an understatement. One day the two of you could be acting like old friends, then the next the two of you act like you’re strangers.

As of now, the two of you were situated in Fyodor’s office. The two of you started to converse while you were cleaning his room, and he wanted to take it a little bit further. He sat directly across from you, pouring some tea. You crossed your arms, then your legs as you watched him take his time. Impatiently, you started to bounce one of your legs.

Fyodor clasped his hands together, then leaned his chin onto them. He gave you the same bored expression you gave him. You could feel his eyes looking everywhere on you, trying to figure out every single detail about you. In a way it made you feel violated.

“Tell me, (Name). What makes you think that would be a wise decision?”

“I never said that it would be wise,” you shot back. “In all honesty, I want to see how you’d react.”

Fyodor’s mouth contorted into a small smirk. “Well, I’m looking forward to it.”

…

That interaction had happened years ago, and yet you still haven’t made your move. Fyodor was starting to grow tired of worrying about when you’ll strike. You have had so many chances to betray him, but yet you haven’t done it yet. Maybe you were scheming something? That had to be the only plausible answer.

You on the other hand had partially forgot about what you said to Fyodor. Your life suddenly grew busy; you got promoted to be an official Decay of Angels member, Fyodor’s rivalry with a brown haired man, and your own life struggles. You knew that you had to eventually fulfill your promise, but your life simply wouldn’t allow it!

But now you finally had your opportunity.

Your shoes clicked as you walked towards Fyodor’s office, papers in hand. You had to deliver some documents about the sky casino to him. These documents contained all of the thirteen years of fake history the casino had, so they were rather important.

One of the documents was special to you though. If someone intelligent enough read over one of the documents, they’d learn that the casino was only a few days old. You slipped that document out of the bunch and put it in your pocket. You’d add it to the rest later when the other papers were ready to be submitted.

You knocked on the door to his office with a forced neutral expression. If he saw you smiling, he’d figure out that you were scheming something.

“Come in,” he said, muffled.

You twisted open the handle on the door and made your way towards his desk. You then plopped the pile of documents onto his desk. “These are the documents you were speaking of earlier.”

“Ah, thank you, milaya.”

Milaya. Ever since that day a few years ago, he’d constantly call you that. You have asked him countless times what it meant, but he never told you. It made you a little mad, but it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t handle.

“Don’t mention it sir,” you said as you went to leave the room.

“…Wait.”

You turned back around and gave him a questionable look. “Do you need something else from me?”

“No.”

“No? Then why did you—“

“Come here,” he said gently.

With an inaudible sigh, you walked over towards the Russian. He looked up at you with a bored expression, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Dance with me,” he said while staring into your eyes.

“…Am I allowed to refuse?”

He only shakes his head. “Come on.”

Fyodor got up from his chair and guided you to a more open area of his office. He stuck out his hand to you, and you took it after a moment of hesitation. He guided your hand to his shoulder, then wrapped his arms loosely around your waist. One of his hands was too close to the pocket with the faux document in it, so you started to sweat nervously; the air around you slowly became more suffocating by the second.

“Why are we doing this?” You asked as Fyodor started to sway, side to side.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been able to dance properly. I just need to make sure I’m not out of practice,” he smoothly lied.

You decided not to press him further, as you didn’t wish to die in that moment.

“Close your eyes,” he eventually spoke.

You obliged rather quickly. Fyodor dipped you down, holding onto you tightly. Since your eyes were closed, you could hear his steady breathing, something which you couldn’t hear before. As they say, once you lose one of your senses the rest of them become more prominent.

Slowly, you felt his face inching towards your own, until eventually his lips touched yours. You fought the urge to open your eyes in shock. Fyodor has never done anything like this before.

Just as you were about to cup his cheek, you felt his hand slither into the pocket with the document resting inside. You pushed his face away from yours and gave him a look of shock. You were sure that you covered your tracks! How did he find out?

“How…” Is all you mutter.

Fyodor gave you his signature smirk. “Your clothing folds looked unnatural. Something had to be hiding inside of that pocket, no?”

You blinked a few times before laughing to yourself. “You got me.”

“You almost made me think that you forgot about what you said that day.”

You awkwardly chuckled. “I could never forget being that bold.”

Fyodor’s eyes narrowed. “I should kill you for trying to make it easier for the Detective Agency,” He then brought your body closer to his, “but I’d much rather keep you alive and have you work for me.”

“Isn’t that the arrangement we already have going on?”

“I suppose so.”

Fyodor helped you stand up with grace. You smoothed out your outfit before looking at him. “You’re quite the odd one, aren’t you?”

He chuckled. “You said you’d backstab me only because you thought it would be fun. Who’s truly the odd one here?”

a/n: for my 55 followers special i wanted to do a little something!

thank you everyone! i only started writing here not even two weeks ago, so this is truly amazing!

i might rewrite this one day since i’m not totally satisfied with it

anyways, as always, requests are open!

#Spotify #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd season 4 #bsd s4 #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #fyodor x y/n #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader

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ggomos-maribat · 6 months

Text

Soul-Stitching: The Heir and the Guardian

Masterlist

Chapter 5: death and revival | AO3

CW: Human experimentation, mentions of religion, cult-like behavior, child abuse, childhood trauma, mentions of death, grief, killing, blood, violence, injury

“Adrien, why are you screaming—oh.” A girl steps up to the top floor, and her face instantly morphs into disgust when she sees him. Her hand reaches up to her choker necklace. “It’s him.”

“Who?” The boy, Adrien, turns to her wide-eyed after stepping over the spilled milk and cereal.

“Damian al Ghul. Or should we address you as Wayne?”

Damian takes a tentative step back, looking down on himself to realize that he rushed out of Gotham without a mask on. But his head snaps up when it dawns on him that the girl called him ‘al Ghul’, which means they must have heard it from Marie.

Which means she hasn't forgotten.

“ That Damian?” Adrien puts a hand over his mouth. “Wait what's he doing here anyway?”

“I don't know, but it might have something to do with that thing she's telling us.”

Before Damian can try to comprehend what that meant, another figure emerges from the shadows.

Marie. Marinette.

What is she doing here? Damian is frozen with shock.

Marie seems surprised by his presence as well, but she quickly schools her expression and stands behind her two friends.

“Should we kick him out, M'lady?” Adrien frowns.

She sighs. “No. I'll talk to him. Kagami, please help Adri clean up the spill. I'll pass a message to Fei that we have a guest.”

---

Damian follows her quietly down a winding flight of stairs, with only a bit of the moonlight guiding them. His eyes end up on her hand, which braces against the wall—there are crimson marks around her wrist. When she doesn't utter another word, he breaks the silence himself instead, “What are you doing here?”

She halts and turns back to him, making him stumble back. Her eyes shimmer more luminously in the dark. “I escaped for a while. There's a decoy up in the Watchtower.”

That explains one of the questions he had. She can escape on her own after all. Of course, he's not telling the others this. She must have been shaken up after the memory projection.

They reach a landing that extends into a carpeted hallway. If the place isn't so dark or badly damaged, the temple's design can rival that of the League. She leads him to a set of double doors and into her bedroom.

“What are you doing here?” asks Marinette.

“I—I saw what they did . . . and um, the Order . . .” He trails off, hoping that she can fill in the blanks.

She sits down and beckons him over. Normally, he wouldn't blindly follow anyone, even if he has known her in his childhood. But something about the temple makes him feel safe. It's not enticing , but rather comforting. It's like his entire being knows there's no danger around him.

“If you're looking for the Order of the Guardians, I killed them,” she says plainly.

“What?”

“I guess I should start from the beginning huh?”

---

The Waynes decide to give Damian his space and instead focus on investigating the case. Mainly, it's Barbara immersing herself into research, with Tim helping in the sidelines. Five hours later, she calls everyone to the cave.

“Where's the old man?” Jason strolls in, tugging off his helmet.

Dick pulls his lips into a thin line. “Watchtower still. I think the JL is investigating on their own too.”

“Well, he has to be here, ‘cause this is all fucked up.” Jason leans against the railing as the rest of the family gathers around Barbara.

“What do you mean? You're caught up in this case too?” Tim is about to lift his cup to his lips but Cass is quick to snatch it away from him.

“I asked Jay to look into it too,” Barbara explains calmly. Her tiredness is evident in her eyes, but it's coupled with an air of rage. “Marinette's past is more complicated than we think.”

“There is a small village in Tibet inherently blessed by the gods. The records date to several hundred years ago,” she begins. “Every two decades or so, a child called the ‘Guardian’ is born in that village. They possess every power we know that is manifested through the miraculi.”

She pulls up several pictures: a few photos of children, but most are paintings. A striking feature appears as a pattern. “The Guardian always has these blue eyes. They're not from any specific family; the children appear randomly from different lineages. And there can only be one of them at a time. If the previous Guardian dies, a new one is reborn.”

---

“My eyes . . .”

“They weren't as blue,” Damian breathes out.

Marinette touches the corner of her eyes, chuckling humorlessly. “Yeah, they weren't. This is where the Order of the Guardians come in. They operate under the guise of a religious group who worship the Guardian and the gods so that tragedy doesn't befall the village. Every time a new Guardian turns four, they fetch the child from the village.”

---

“In reality, they're just a sick disgusting cult of old men,” Jason spits out. “People who know about the miraculi believe that they came from a mage that put the power of the kwamis into the magic jewel. That's bull. The Guardian is the source of that power.”

Stephanie draws in a shaky breath. “So . . . so when they were drawing blood . . .”

“It's some kind of ritual,” Barbara continues. The tension in the air multiplies. “With magic, the blood mixed with an accessory creates a miraculous.”

“But each miraculous is only one of its kind,” Dick points out. “Unless there are duplicates?”

“The ritual doesn't work all the time, that's why they have to—to experiment which methods will work to combine the jewel with the power.”

---

Damian swallows a lump in his throat as Marinette speaks monotonously about the Order. “The monks weren't strategizers so they usually tried every variation of the ritual they could think of. For instance, to extract the power of Emotion—the Peacock—should they make the Guardian cry? Should they anger the child or subject them into an assortment of emotions? What about the power of Destruction? Will breaking every bone in their body work?”

He hasn't noticed how hard he's clutching the sheets.

“Multiply that with the variations in the jewels. Which power will work with earrings? A necklace? That's one vial of blood for each variation.” Marinette rubs her arm. “Over the course of seventy years, they ran their experiments and created all the miraculi you know that showed up in Paris.”

“That's why they're unique,” Damian mumbles.

“Not entirely. Some of the ‘failed’ jewels worked, only they don't possess even half of the Guardian's power. They are like . . . disposable miraculi. Their power can only be used once and it doesn't even transform the user. The Order produced hundreds of these—they call them miraculous-adjacents.”

How many children did they sacrifice? He wishes he can revive the Order just to subject them to torture himself.

“How did you end up in . . .?”

---

“How does Marinette fit into all of this?” Dick asks.

“She's a Guardian, isn't she?” Tim guesses.

“It's not as straightforward as that.” Barbara adjusts her glasses, opening another file: a picture of a dark-haired girl with bright blue eyes.

Yet it's not Marinette.

“Like you saw in the memory projection, Marinette came from the League of Assassins. There's a League base not too far from the temple; it's where she and Damian escaped from. When she died, I'm guessing they found her body. This girl was the Guardian at that time.”

---

“She didn't have a name. Guardians usually weren't given one. She fell into a coma because of their experiments,” Marinette leans back.

“Did they not kill her?”

“They can't draw any more blood or directly kill her, because they risk waiting for years until a new Guardian is born. I don't know the exact rebirth cycle—the life expectancies of Guardians are already low but that girl was too young to die. Bottomline is, they refused to kill her but they couldn't wake her up either.” Marinette waves her hands around. “Lucky for them I guess, they found me.”

Dread settles on Damian's chest. “But you . . .”

“Were dead? Yes, but I had the body strong enough to withstand the Guardian's power. They performed one important ritual. I'm not sure exactly how they did it, because I was—obviously–busy being dead, but they joined the two of us somehow. Her soul, my body. When I woke up, everything was healed–my leg, the wound from the knife, my scars. I had memories that weren't my own but at the same time, I knew I lived through them. They called me a vessel.”

He can only imagine the confusion, the stress taking a toll on her that time.

“You—you don't have to tell me if it's too much,” Damian stammers.

“What? No, it's okay. I owe you this much.” She seems surprised at his interjection. “I've told this story a few times already.”

He gives a nod and she continues, “Even if I was healed, I was still weak from the cold and hunger. I stayed quiet the whole time, gathered as much information as I could, and let them get blood from me. One day, I saw an opening.”

She pauses.

“I killed them.”

She waits. Perhaps for judgment from him?

“I killed them all, Master. I had all the powers at my disposal anyway. I knew I was an assassin first before a Guardian, so I made sure I got rid of all of them. I made this temple into what it is today.”

Damian remembers seeing the powers of Destruction manifested through the ring in the videos of the akuma attacks. She must wield a greater degree of power than that. He moves closer to her and takes her hands into his, telling her slowly, “I would've done the same.”

“Master–”

“Do not call me that,” he cuts in. “You cannot call me that after what I've done to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's my fault you died.” Damian starts to shake. “I treated you terribly even when you protected me. I was too arrogant to see that you were in pain—”

“What are you talking about?” Marinette frowns, this time covering his hands with hers. “You never treated me badly. You were the reason I remained in the League.”

“I . . .”

She runs her fingers over his knuckles. “You protected me even if I was weak. You made sure I ate and slept. You would protect me in fights just as I tried to protect you.”

---

“Climb on my back.” Damian crouches in front of the girl. He has noticed her labored breaths since they started walking through the snow.

“Master, I can't possibly—”

“It's faster this way. They made you work too hard, didn't they?” he hisses. “I will tell Mother this time. You have no other business in the bases except to serve me.”

Marie reluctantly goes on his back, locking her arms around his neck and burying his face on his shoulder. His breath hitches when he realizes how light she has become.

---

“Why are you sitting over there?”

She blinks at him. “To guard the entrance, Master. You can go ahead and sleep.”

“No. Stay here by the fire.”

“But what if the enemies—”

Damian sighs and digs into the backpack to retrieve the heat packs. He tosses two to her and tells her to wake him up at midnight so they can switch. But when he wakes up, he finds that it is dawn and Marie has dozed off by the cave opening, shivering.

“Tt. Foolish girl.” He rushes to wrap her up in a blanket before carrying her into the sleeping bag and taking her place.

---

“Marie!” Overcome with panic, he kills the assassin quickly and tosses him over the edge of the cliff. He tries to look for the backpack but then she grabs him by the sleeve.

“I'm sorry, Master . . . it fell when I was . . .” she sniffs.

“Ssh, none of that.” His heart is racing as he tries to look for a makeshift bandage and splint.

“Please don't worry about me. We have to go—”

“I will worry. What were you thinking? Why didn't you wake me?” He hoists her up again, taking care not to move her injured foot.

---

“Master—I mean Damian. ” Marinette reaches up to cup his cheek. “Have you forgotten?”

A sob comes out of him. It all starts coming back—his dreams have overshadowed his memories, painting him as the ruthless child who was indifferent to Marie. He was too overridden by guilt to remember correctly. He starts to cry while inwardly scolding himself for forgetting everything.

She doesn't say a word but lends her shoulder, holding him close. Damian realizes it has never felt this liberating to cry.

“I never blamed you for anything,” she whispers. “I did it to myself.”

“I’m sorry—”

“It's not your fault.” Her voice is close to his ear. “It's okay. I'm okay now.”

---

“There's no record of what happened to Marinette after she was taken by the Order,” says Jason, “But after a year or so, she was found walking into the village alone. There was no blood on her or anything but she didn't speak at all. The monks weren't seen again after that and the temple was abandoned. Protective services picked her up months later.”

“This is all just a theory, but she could have gained the powers of the Guardian.” Barbara rubs her head. “Must be why Constantine was so alarmed.”

“So the Hawkmoth thing . . . actually checks out?” Stephanie says.

Jason scoffs in reply. “No, it's the opposite of that. If she had the powers of the miraculi at her disposal, why the hell would she terrorize a city?”

“Jason and I found another reason for the evidence against her,” Barbara explains. “Marinette is the Guardian in the sense of her powers, but also in the sense of being the keeper of the magical jewels.”

“Marinette is—”

---

“I'm Ladybug, by the way.”

Damian's eyes widen while he tries to wipe the last of his tears. “Why didn't you say that in court?”

“We had a plan, don't worry.” She smiles a little. “It's also dangerous to reveal my identity that easily. I have more duties to fulfill as Guardian.”

“Duties?”

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Did I just make Marinette Gojo Satoru? Yes. Yes I did. Taglist: @noisydreamlandkoala

#tw child abuse #tw suicide #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #daminette #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #tw blood #ggomoz #maribat damian wayne #maribat marinette dupain cheng #SS:H&G

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babywchronicles · 2 months

Text

Review: The Junior Witch’s Handbook

Here's a review of The Junior Witch’s Handbook: A Kid’s Guide to White Magic, Spells, and Rituals, By Nikki Van De Car and Illustrated by Uta Krogmann.

I thought to myself as I was browsing through my local library’s catalogue: “Why not start basic?” And to me, when I saw this book on witchcraft for children, that seemed about as basic as you could get. “Speak to me like a child,” I told this book. “Talk to me like I know nothing.”

The books isn’t long, about 100 pages, but it is Junior Fiction, so one shouldn’t expect anything grandiose. Though, there are some books for adults on witchcraft that don’t top that, so who am I to judge? More important than length is that this book packs a lot of information in it for the page count.

There are a range of ideas, spells, and rituals in this book—as one would expect—but it’s all kept simple. The language is age-appropriate, which means it is very concise and easy to understand. The book doesn’t complicate things the way some “adult” witch books do. That is a very good thing for kids, but I think I also got a lot out of it. There was the information I wanted to know, written in a way that was easy to understand, and was accessible to me as someone who is, though I started looking into it years ago, still very new. A “Baby Witch” as it were. Read on under the cut.

The book is separated into sections: An introduction, a list of things needed for witchcraft—so far, so standard—and then breaks the spells and rituals following into those of “Friends”, “Fulfillment”, and “Family”. A glossary sits at the end, which I love for all informational books, honestly, and feel as though I am rarely granted.

The “Things You’ll Need” section goes over tools and supplies: Altar, Crystals, Herbs, Essential Oils, all that good stuff. It also has a table of different things you can substitute in for other things. Like, this is the best thing ever. I’m sure some out there will insist that you have to have THE right ingredients every single time, but I have no money, so this sort of thing is a life saver. I don’t necessarily need permission to mix and match, but having a handy little table there for me to reference is amazing. Takes the pressure off.

Breaking the book down into the three main components—friends, fulfillment, and family—is so good. To kids, those things are very central to their lives (And non-kids too, let’s be real here).

In the friends section alone, the book goes through sending out energy to invite new friends, how to connect with friends through witchcraft, strengthening friendships, but also—and this is so cool to me—has a while subsection called “Healing” that goes through meditations for anger, compassion, and letting go of hurt feelings. There is acknowledgment here that friends and life sometimes go wrong, people fight, feelings get hurt… And the book stresses this, and then gives methods of handling it positively. How cool is that!?

In the “Fulfilment” section, there is a good amount of self care talked about, and how to accomplish that through witchcraft. There is talk of luck, creativity, courage—but there is also a ritual for loving yourself when things go wrong; how to center yourself so you can try again. It also talks about making your own oracle deck, which sounds like the best idea for me, honestly. I just can’t get one to work for me. Thank you, witchcraft for children book. You the grace I needed right now.

The book further goes into things like cleansing, having a guardian for your home, celebrations (wheel of the year type stuff) in the “Family” section. All good stuff.

And you want to know WHAT ELSE is good about this book? The rituals, spells, and the like are often 1 or 2 pages of information. This is the sort of non-complicated, simple, PLEASE-talk-to-me-like-I’m-11 stuff I need in my life. It’s undaunting. It’s useful. It’s accessible. I want o hold this book to the moon and scream in relief and thanks.

This books teaches about magic, while also acknowledging key importances around making friends, being with your family, and loving yourself. And, as I have said before, it talks to you like you are new, like you don’t know the detailed concepts, big words, or complex ideas… And for someone who is so easily put off by complexity when I know nothing, this is so good for me.

Take note, Adult Witchcraft Books: Stop being so serious and complicated. A little care and gentleness for your friends, your family, yourself, and your readers is good for the soul. Well done.

Two thumbs up from me. How do rating systems go? I might buy this book.

#book review #magic #witchcraft #review #reference #magic for kids

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elisysd · 1 year

Text

You are in love – Taylor Swift

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

And for once you let go Of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much But it said enough

Seeing Charlotte at his birthday party made Charles feel conflicted. On the one hand, he was happy to see her; their relationship may have ended, but they had spent some wonderful times together and Charles would always be grateful to Charlotte for having been part of his life. But on the other, he hoped that Lyanna would not interpret this in the wrong way and would take this opportunity to distance herself from him. The last few days had been complicated and things were only beginning to improve, so now was not the time to take a step backwards.

“So, what are you doing here? Who invited you?” asked her Charles while guiding her towards his friends.

“Joris told me. And I know we are not together anymore but I was not seeing myself not whishing you a happy birthday and ignoring it. We were friends before our relationship, I hope we can still be ones even after.”

“I don’t see why it could be a problem. We both adults and we both moved on.”

“Speaking of moving on… Lyanna Michel, hum? Aiming for Hollywood, Leclerc?” she teased him.

“You know her?”

“She is pretty famous.”

“How come everyone knows her but me?”

“Because you don’t care about anything that is not racing related. If she were in a movie about racing or whatever you would have known about her.”

He shrugged as they moved towards the tables where the guests were seated.

“Charlotte? What a surprise, I did not expect to see you there.” Pascale greeted her while kissing both of her cheeks and inviting the young woman to sit at the table.

“It’s good to see you Pascale.”

“So what have you been up to?”

“Travelling here and there. Enjoying life mostly.”

The two women started to talk and Charles took this opportunity to search for Lyanna in the crowd. He wanted to introduce her to Charlotte as quick as possible before she learnt by someone else that is ex-girlfriend was there and imagined things.

“Mom, did you see Lya somewhere? I can’t seem to find her.”

“No I haven’t. Do you want me to search for her with you?”

“I think it’s her right there by the scene, no?” pointed out Charlotte.

“So you know her to the extent that you can find her in the crowd but not me?” said Charles while looking at Charlotte with disbelief.

“I mean, I kind of follow her on social media and watched some of her movies. So yeah… told you Charles she was a big deal, you should not be surprised to learn that people know about her.”

Charles was about to get up and leave to go to his girlfriend when he saw her going up on the stage and sitting at the piano. His eyes were fixed on her, trying to understand what she was doing. He could see, even from several metres away, how distressed she was.

“Hi everyone. Oh my God, it’s so weird. I’m not going to take much of your time I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to the man of the day. I sometimes have a hard time finding the right words to say to express what you mean to me and every day a part of me admire you for putting up with me. I don’t know how you do to be this patient. I would have given up on me a long time ago if I were you but you’re somehow still here. So this song is for you. Happy Birthday Charles.”

Charles felt a sudden surge of emotion when he heard Lyanna sing. He was proud to see her bare her soul in front of so many people, most of whom she didn't even know. Embarrassment, because he knew that everyone was watching for his reaction. Hope, because he realised that Lyanna was finally ready to give 100% of herself to him and that they would finally be able to move forward together in the same direction. And above all, a ball of heat in his chest that threatened to explode at any moment.

Too busy looking at Lyanna, he didn't notice Charlotte's chair coming closer to him and whispering a few words in his ear.

“Well, she must really love you to do that.”

“She is amazing.”

“I can see that yes. Charles, can I tell you something? It won’t be long but I feel like you need to hear it.”

Charles turned briefly to Charlotte.

“In the years we spent as a couple, I’ve never seen you look at me like you are looking at her. Or even talk about me like you talk about her. You love her. If I know you as well as I think, you might not be ready to admit it, but it’s love. True and pure love. I’m happy you found that with someone and I’m glad she is able to give you what I could not. You deserve to be happy Charles. You deserve to find your special someone and if what I can witness is any clue about that, I think you found her. Hold on to that feeling. Hold on to her. And be happy.”

Charles was overwhelmed with emotion. It was one thing to hear his friends and family tell him he was in love, it was quite another to hear it from his ex. Without really thinking, he took Charlotte in his arms and held her close.

“I hope you’ll find that as well. You are a good person, Charlotte. Really.”

“Come on, you are going to make me cry. Go get your girl I think she is about to faint.”

A glance at Lyanna told him that the young woman was indeed about to cry, vomit or faint, or all three at once. He leapt to his feet and rushed towards her.

Lyanna stared shakily at the piano keys and Charles crouched down beside her to block her from the crowd. His arms found their natural place around her body and he drew her to him as he felt her tears wet his shirt. He had the reflex to move the microphone away and pressed his cheek against hers.

“You’re my most beautiful birthday gift.” He said to her.

It was true. Nothing could beat the way he felt about her at that moment. It was as if he'd been waiting for her all his life. She was a gift from heaven sent by his guardian angels. She was exactly what he needed at this moment in his life and he knew that whatever happened to him, if he had her by his side, everything would be all right. His eyes met hers and a soft smile played across her lips.

“I hope I managed to convey everything that you make me feel with this song. And I hope you liked it.”

“You did, yes. And so much more. You made me cry, Lya.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s happy tears. You are fantastic.”

He kissed her lips that tasted like salt and he was almost sure that she could say the same about his. They rose to their feet to the applause of the guests and Charles took Lyanna by the hand to lead her to the table where his family was seated. Charlotte was still there, her eyes a little teary. Pascale moved over to give Lyanna room to sit down and poured her a glass of water, which she drank in one gulp. Charles also sat down beside her, making sure to keep her hand in his at all times. He could still feel her shaking.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lyanna watched Charlotte. She was very pretty and seemed kind. And if she was present at Charles's birthday party, that meant they were still close. She didn't know how she felt about that. It would be so much easier for her if Charlotte came across as a heartless bitch and not the complete opposite.

Feeling the actress's gaze on her, Charlotte took the initiative of introducing herself.

“You were amazing out there. It was a really beautiful song.”

“Thanks.” Whispered Lyanna, her gaze fixed on the table.

“I love your dress by the way, red looks gorgeous on you. Don’t you agree Charles?” she insisted while sending a look to Charles that more or less was saying: please help me I want to get to know your girlfriend.

“Yeah, red is definitely my favourtie colour on her. For obvious reason. Well, Lyanna this is Charlotte, my…hum…” he hesitated. He couldn't see introducing Charlotte as a friend, but he couldn't see introducing her as his ex either.

“Ex-girlfriend?” blurted Lyanna while looking at Charles. “I was talking to George’s girlfriend when I saw you both together.”

“Charles did not know I was coming, maybe I should have given a heads up. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” Justified Charlotte.

Lyanna absent-mindedly nodded. She could not help but to feel a little jealous even if a part of her knew that she didn't have to fear anything. But still, it was not a nice feeling to to be stuck in a room with your boyfriend’s ex. She did not know how to act. She sighed before drinking another glass of water and excused herself. She needed to be a little alone, just to sort her thoughts out and breathe a little. She felt like all eyes were on her and she should have expected it after the stunt she pulled but it did not make things easier for her. She locked herself in the bathroom and put some water on her face. She stayed still for a few minutes trying to regain her composure and a steady breathing. When she came out of the room and she found herself face to face with Charlotte who had followed her.

“Hey… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.” Apologized Charlotte seeing Lyanna jerking away. “Do you have a minute?”

Lyanna nodded and they wandered off to find a secluded room away from prying ears.

“I know how you must feel, seeing me here. I guess it’s not a nice feeling…” began Charlotte.

“It’s weird, yeah. I have nothing against you I don’t know you, it’s just that I was not expecting to see you here. Charles never talked to me about his ex-girlfriends so meeting you on his birthday is kind of making me uncomfortable.”

“I can understand. If I knew that you would have been here, I would not have come. I don’t want to make things weird between you and Charles. I just want you to know that I did not come here with a hidden agenda. I only came to wish him a happy birthday, that’s it. You have nothing to be afraid of from my side. But I care about Charles, I’ll always will. I can’t act like he has not been an important part of my life. But I don’t love him anymore. I moved on. I wanted you to feel reassured toward that.”

“You did not have to tell me that. You don’t owe me anything but I appreciate, thank you.”

“You guys make a beautiful couple. And he is happy and in the end that is what I want the most for him.”

“You are really sweet; you make it hard for me to not like you.” Confessed Lyanna eliciting a slight laugh from Charlotte.

“Well thank you, I guess. Here’s my phone number, if you find yourself being bored of Charles and want to hang out, text me. I would really like to be your friend.”

Lyanna saved Charlotte's contact details in her phone and smiled at her. The brunette gave her a slight nod before walking away. When Lyanna returned to the room, Charlotte had disappeared and Charles was in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by his friends. She recognised Joris and Pierre in the distance but didn't dare intrude. Instead, she decided to join Pascale, who was alone at her table watching the room.

“How are you feeling, darling?” asked Pascale. “What you did out there for Charles was very brave.”

“I feel better now that is done. But I needed to tell him how I felt. I just did not know how.”

“Well I’d say that Charles will have a hard time to find something that will beat what you did for your birthday.”

“Well, he can always ask her to marry him, I’d say that would do the job perfectly fine.” Added Arthur that was passing by.

Lyanna blushed to the suggestion. It was definitely not in her plans for the near future. Even if imagining her future with Charles and imagining them getting married at some point made her feel fuzzy things.

It was late when Lyanna and Charles came back to the flat. Charles was slightly drunk and could not stop giggling. He was also extremely handsy with her. He could not stop touching her and following her around, trying to kiss her whenever he could. Lyanna found that annoyingly cute and she had a really hard time trying to put him into bed. And even in the darkness of the room and the comfort of the bed, Charles continued to tease her, playing with her hair and trying to pin her against him.

“Charles… sleep.” Tried to argue Lyanna.

“I don’t want to. Did I tell you how beautiful you looked today?”

“Multiple times, yes.” She answered laughing slightly. “You are going to have such a headache tomorrow.”

“I don’t care. As long as you are here, it doesn’t matter. You are perfect. My Lyanna. My beautiful and perfect Lyanna. All mine and mine alone.”

“You are so drunk…”

“Drunk on love then.” he added.

“Yeah sure, babe. Goodnight Charles.” She said and kissed his cheek.

“Lyanna?”

“Yes, Charles?” she sighed.

She waited but nothing came out of his mouth. He was asleep.

======

author's note: Since some of you were worried about Charlotte appearance in last chapter, I thought I was going to put an end to your fears right away. As usual I'm curious about your thoughts so feel free to express them whether it's through the comments, the ask box if your too shy or the DMs if you want to talk about the story a bit more. Take care and see you really soon for another update.

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honeybeewhereartthee · 10 months

Text

ORACLE that brought us together.

you don't really think that when you wake up, you realize--

1.) You were not dreaming about the event yesterday.

2.) Your nowhere near the place you were yesterday.

3.) Your cloths have change to something else..

it reminded you of the Feature outfit of Hiiro Amagi for one thing. And the other is, someone is waiting for you outside the door.

"are you awake?" you heard someone you don't know ask from the door as you were making a noise of flipping your things to find your phone and checking if you lost some organs from a weird organ trafficking thing cause it's just safety first. Through your all good except for the three things mention above.

"No I'm asleep." You sarcastically says, the person behind the door seems to pause at your sarcasm as you open the sliding door on the left side of the room, you saw the garden and beautiful landscape. It seems your in some traditional house of some tribe or something. It's pretty big and many things to see from where you are. It looks familiar.

You went out to the garden on barefoot when you saw something, just as you went out of site. The servant from the other side of the other door saw the young monarch walking toward them.

"My young lord. The young lady is awake." They bow at the presence of the leader of the tribe. Rinne nodded his head and open the door after a knock you did not reply on. "Hey, I know your awake--..." Rinne saw the garden door is open and your nowhere to be found.

"Geez. Well I have to look for her or she will find herself in Brazil." Especially with that very complicated no sense of direction of yours. That's why he made sure someone is waiting for you to guide you to where you wanna go but you just have to sneak around and get lost.

"Did she try to escape again?" An elderly man who looks is akin to Rinne ask with a low chuckle. "Who knows. I just have to look for her." Rinne laughs at his old man as he went to get some slippers or foot wear to bring along with him, since his pretty sure you went out without one. But before he could leave to the forest, his old man called out to him.

"Rinne, you have talk about how our tribe works so far from modern society works. And wish to change it." The old monarch starts. His first born son looks at him with face that shows no sign of emotion to be readed by him.

"You have use the oracle and your destined bride as a reason to get out of the villages. Yet tell me, my son. Do you only bring them back to meds your boredom--"

"old man, are you asking me if I like her or not?" Rinne sigh as he realize what his father is aiming at.

"... Well do you?"

"No." Rinne turns his back on his father. "Like is understatement." He chuckle as he run into the forest looking for you. His father watch his son left and cannot help but sigh in relief before he went his merry way.

...

It took him a while to spot you as you were up in the tree and dropped your bracelet— that his tribe women put on you for your status as well the outfit that fits for you as his bride, yesterday night—on his head. "Hey now that's not nice of you." He look up to you who's focusing on something. He looks at the tree and saw something written in it as he climb up besides you. When his up the big branch your siting on. He saw your playing on your phone.

"Event?" Siting besides you, he put the bracelet back to your right hand.

"Hmm." You nodded your head as you finish one gameplay. You look up to Rinne in a silent for a moment. "I guess it's really destiny." You remember seeing trails of shinny and pretty red and blue rocks that you follow to the tree and saw four rocks of Red, blue, (eye color) and (hair color) inside one of the hole of this tree and a handwriting that's look like some kid wrote it, years ago.

[ starting Point and the End point of (nickname) and RinRin]

in some blurry memories, you found yourself in a set of memories of you writing it with someone. You were daze at that moment as you realize something. You sigh as you realize a cutie childhood friend of yours turn into a very seggsy and nasty guy who bullies you, yet also the person you like.

"Did you remember?" He gets an idea what's have happened and chuckle hopelessly. He did told you about that but you refuse to believe him.

"Sorry." You laugh. "I like little rin Rin cause his so cute and silly." Looking straight into his eyes, you wonder how you gain courage to say something like this.

My good friend from long time ago. It's nice to meet you again." You smiled at Rinne. Your happy to meet him again. It's sad and self disappointing to your part to not notice it was him.

Rinne stared at you and suddenly reach out to held your cheeks. You were confuse for a moment but soon become flabbergasted and embarrassed red mess as he pulled you closer and give you a kiss in the cheek, close to your lips.

"W-waa... What!" You felt blood went to your head as he hugged you to not let you see his equally embarrassed face. He cannot believe he did something intimate and shameless like that! But his body just mode on his own!

"Yes or yes?" He back away for a moment as he look you serious in the eyes.

"Huh? Why is it all yes?" You wonder if his joking or not. What kind of choices is that.

"Ok, you said yes." He laugh as he stood up and scoops you up. Not caring that you two are up in the tree. Before you know it, he jump down. Earning a surprise scream from you.

"Hey!" You held tight on him as start to run toward his village. "Little MC said if we meet again and you liked me. It mean well continue the wedding." He says a she look at you for a moment as he speed to the trees. You look at him surprised and question, you don't remember if you said that! But what if his right? His better in remembering things than you do. So his probably right.

"But you don't even say it back..." You cover your face. "I love you, so let's get married~ so I can kiss you in the lips my wife." Rinne went passes by the village folks who greats you two and went to the priest place who happens to talk to his father.

"Old man, bless us already. So I can mark my territory." He demanded to his father. "Young kids those days." The elder laughs before you know it, a grand yet simple traditional wedding have happened. It happened so fast you only realize it's real when Rinne beams when he held you close as you two finally official.

Soft lips against yours, it felt right at the moment. As you two. You felt your cheeks burn brightly as he look at you with gentle gaze. Linking his hands with yours. I'm his eyes and in your eyes. Only the image of each other is reflecting in clear image.

"Don't you think it's stupid?" You ask him. "Hmm?" He seems interested with your question as you two depart from the village to go back to city after that break. Holding each other's hands as you two walking through forest.

"An oracle. Or words of the old people who dont know any better. Would you really go it cause they told you so?" You mean how it started with that so called oracle. It was the most stupid thing you heard in your life and it still is.

"It doesn't matter. I know it's too old school. But it brought you to me~ now you can't escape cause we're fated!" He spins you around as he evilly laugh before braking into a full genuine laughter's of happiness.

"Its stupid. But it's useful in its own way." Putting you down as he linked his hands with you again. He saw not far from ahead three of his unit waiting for him with a car rented out to pick the two of them up.

"But because of it. I meet you, I gain freedom and meet many friends... And be me." You look at him in surprise before you were taken back as he start to run toward the three.

"Yoo, Niki catch this." Rinne gives the dishes neatly packed for a souvenir for the foodie Niki and some sweets to Kohaku and coffee beans/tea from his village to Himeru as he went to the driver seat with you in the shotgun seat.

"Anyway, let's go back to the city!"

"Ok!" Everyone cheers before long you all drive to the city and chatted about what happened in the pass week. Congrats is told and teasing moment is shared. The story began and it ended with a silly child who's lost yet found her way to a place and set freedom to a boy who want to experience what's behind the things that was taught and force upon him before he is even born.

End.

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