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volturiprincess · 3 months ago

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Cheri Cheri Lady

Felix Volturi x fem human reader

Summary: Cherry pie making with the gentle giant Warnings: foul language, a bit of sexual tension, mention of a delusional child, fluff and I think thats it? A/N: This one right here has to be my favorite one, its just cute and I loved working on it, I started it before I left for my trip and wanted to finish it before but I'm glad I didn't because I was enjoying writing this one to much. I always add a bit of myself in my writings, like some of the things I add for dialogue is things I have said or heard or the inspiration to write are things I went through or saw. My biggest inspiration for this one were two things; one I did made a cherry pie a couple of weeks ago and two by the song "Cheri Cheri lady" by Modern Talking. Anyways.....Enjoy💙

Word Count: 2.5k+

(Fuck why is he so fine??? Oh to be approach by him like this😩)

The summer days in Volterra are one of my favorite times of the year, first being winter. I am able to lay out in the sun for hours without the fear of having to run inside for warmth. I could watch the sky that is filled with the fluffiest of clouds and try to spot any recognizable shapes. There was a time I managed to spot a little duckie with my darling of a mate. He spotted a baby on that same day. I don't know if that was a hint or something but it made me blush at his discovery. That day we spent talking about our delusional baby, we decided to have a girl who would have been named Flor. We somehow got into a small argument about how we would react when our ‘daughter’ introduced us to her spouse. I would be warm and welcoming while Felix would be full on cold and distant because ‘no one will ever be enough for my little princess”.

We don't always do that, we like to switch it up once in a while, I noticed lately that Felix likes to do domestic things with me. As of now me and him have our hands interlocked while I lead him into the Volturi’s fruit trees. It’s odd how they have a whole section in their garden just dedicated to fruit trees. They have all kinds there; apples, pears, guava, oranges, plums, and the one i'm currently searching for, cherries. I have been craving cherry pie for a while so I convinced Felix to come with me to pick them out and then we will spend a majority of the day creating this sweet treat. He of course would never question me or even say no, heck he would even let me dye his hair pink if I asked. My sweet loving mate.

We continued our little stroll through the trees, not all of the fruit has bloomed its flowers still linger in the trees. With the small breeze it would weave through the trees, releasing the remaining flowers from its branch and it would land all around me and Felix.

We found the tree we needed, and it was glorious. I haven't had the time to come and witness it in person but Master Caius' endless paintings of the trees were pretty accurate. But there was a small issue, all the branches were a whole foot taller than me, Felix could easily grab but not me for sure. I looked at the mentioned giant who was already looking at me with a smug smirk.

“Is there an issue little rose?”

I pout at his comment because he obviously sees my dilemma.

“Put that pout away doll, now come here”

I walk over to him and I see that he is getting down on his knees. Deciding to joke with him since he bullied me earlier I said to him “Wow there, take me out on a date first at least” I covered my mouth to hold in my laughter but he beat me to it.

“Doll I have pretty much taken you all over Italy at this rate and don't even get me started on our late passionate nights”

I blush at his comment and he gives me his infamous shark like grin. “Now don't make me repeat myself come here”

I hurried to get behind him and he helped me get on to his muscular broad shoulders, that I would so like to munch on if I could. Once I was settled and comfortable enough he rose up to his full height. And I got to say, the weather is nice up here. I feel like I can reach the sky now or I can grab a star like an apple. So this is the tall life that I've been missing out on? It's nice but I like the short life because I can look up at my hunk of a mate and he can look down at me with his cute little smile.

“Earth to my little mate”

“Oh sorry mi vida, the tall life got to me for a minute, what were you saying?”

I giggled in embarrassment thinking he would tease me but he responded with a small chuckle “No worries tesoro , I just asked where do you want to start?”

I quickly scanned the area and spotted a thick branch with the richest looking cherries, they were these dark red, juicy looking orbs. The sunlight was even hitting them like a spotlight, these will be perfect for the pie.

“Those one’s right there”

He held onto my thighs while I held onto my small basket. When he got to the area I was eyeing I started to grab them.

“Here let me hold your basket pitufina”

I handed him the basket to his outstretched hand and paused for a minute at his nickname.

“Did you just call me pitufina?”

“I did”

He didn't even hesitate to answer me either, in a sarcastic voice I answer him “Wow what a darling you are”

“Well it's not like its not true, you're literally sitting on my shoulders because you were to short to reach the cherries”

“Well yeah but I mean your just abnormally tall, and by the way I didnt even know you knew that word”

“Pitufina? Well I needed to do some research and I might of heard it when you were watching ‘Smurfs’ in Spanish the other day”

I started to pick cherries again and continued to talk to him “Mmm but my skin is not blue”

“Well obviously but your short like a smurf”

I love his humor “You know what, Demetri would never hurt my feelings by pointing out my shortness, at least he calls me cara and that's nice compared to pitufina”

“Oh well sweet Demetri is not here to compliment you”

I mumbled as I continued to pick more cherries to fill my basket.

“Your adorable when you mumble, and by the way I can hear everything your saying too so watch that mouth of yours or else”

“Or else what? Gonna ground me or something”

“No its either between a punishment I will enjoy or no Demetri”

I stop picking mid reach “WHAT! Oh that’s just crossing the line, how can you say such a thing, he’s my best friend, we bond over shopping, who’s going to do that with me now?”

“You have Heidi”

“Well yea but how can you take away my sweet Demetri like that, I need both Heidi and Demetri to go shopping”

“Well watch your mouth and there won't be an issue then”

“Fine, man your on fire today with the sass but I love it”

He laughed at my comment “Of course you do”

I eventually, after our bickering, filled my basket with the pretties of cherries I found. Felix set me down gently and he held the basket while I clung to his arm. Oh his arms, how I admire them so much. The way it seems his arms fit perfectly around me, as if his arms were meant to be around me, maybe it’s true because we are mates after all. I swear everytime I see him after training the newborns with Demetri, his arms look more muscular than usual. I don't know if I'm just imagining things but I can guarantee you Felix's arm was not the size of a tree trunk when I first saw him. Or maybe it was, honestly when I saw him all I could focus on was his sweet smile, it was nothing I have ever witnessed, there's no other words to describe it but sweet. Sometimes he will flash me his canines, and I can say they are not fangs, the disappointment I faced when I found out vampires don't actually have fangs. Nevertheless Felix is everything I could ever ask for, I sometimes question myself how I got so fortunate to have someone like him in my life, and to think we have forever.

“Earth again to my little love?”

I blink a couple of times to clear my mind from my endless thoughts on my lovely mate and look up at him with a confused look. Has he been talking to me this whole time since we left the gardens? Wait, how are we in the kitchen already?

“You've been pretty distracted lately doll, what's happening in that pretty little head of yours?”

I chuckled nervously at his observation “I was thinking about you”

“When are you not”

I slap his arm playfully while he laughs at my failed attempt to ‘harm’ him. Cocky son of a bitch, the day when I am turned I will make sure I kick his ass but at the same time I don't think I could actually fight him, it might go a whole other way if I get my hands on him.

“Well you are my lover, want me to think about other people?” before he could interrupt me I decided to tease him “Maybe I should think about Demetri, I seen he has changed his hairstyle lately, and he looks absolutely gorgeous as always, or I could think about Alec, I noticed he is growing his hair out, I need to witness that version of Alec for my own sake”

I didn't even realize as soon as I was done talking I was pinned against the wall and he was looking down at me with his infamous smirk that I love so much.

“Are we done talking now? Or you want to hit at Master Caius too? Hmmm?” He tilted his head at an angle to toy with me. I gulped nervously which only made his smirk widen more as if that were even possible, it was me versus him, him and I, a prey and a predator, a little lamb and a big bad wolf. We had our gazes glued onto each other, we didn't even look away from each other when Demetri waltz in saying

“Hey guys I don't smell pi- oh damn, pardon my presence” and not even when he ran off screaming for Heidi. Felix finally pulled away and instead of his smirk, he flashed me with his cute smile

“Don't we have a pie to make, little rose?”

I nodded, unable to form words yet from his earlier action and scrambled to get the ingredients for the crust out. He decided to sit on the island to watch me and to be there in case I need his help. He looked adorable sitting there, such a big guy and here he is swinging his feet, watching me with his adorable little smile. Why must he be such a cutie patootie, how can this same vampire be also the executor? Literally right now he looks harmless like a kitten, where is the wolf that was close to devouring me on the spot just minutes ago? And I thought Alec was bipolar, news flash it's Felix.

As I was rolling out the dough I felt a small breeze and then pain in my eye.

“Owww my poor little human eye, Felix you son of a bitch you got flour in my eye, owww”

I dropped the rolling pin and was about to blindly search for the sink when I felt another small breeze and was met once again with relief. I blink a couple of times to be met with intense wine red eyes who had the most playful look. I had my eyes narrowed at him while he laughed wholeheartedly. How can I be mad at him when his laugh is the most contagious laugh I have heard? I smiled slightly which only caused him to laugh more

“There it is” He pulled me into his arms to kiss the top of my head “I'm sorry doll, I didn't mean to get it into your eyes but…”

“But what?”

“What did I say about cursing?”

Shit. I'm done for.

“Um only in the bedroom”

“Exactly, I'll let it slide for now since you were pain but next time I won't”

I nod but continue to snuggle into him, whenever he has his arms wrapped around me like this, I feel so protected and safe. He basically has me in a cocoon, there was one time Alec and Jane didn't realize I was in Felix arms and they started to ask him about some grotesque thing that left me traumatized.

“You need to finish that pie doll come on I will help and no more flour play”

“I better not suffer from flour in eyes again mi vida, that did hurt, my eyes were burning”

“And I said I'm sorry already, at least I stop the pain, no?”

“Well yeah but just don't do it again”

“How bout I do this instead”

I saw him reach around me and he dabbed his finger on the remaining flour on the table and bopped my nose with it. I smiled softly again and returned the act instantly. We both started to giggle at our state until he turned me around so I was facing my unfinished pie.

After 6 hours of baking, it took longer than usual because someone could not keep their hands to themselves, the pie was finished. It smelled amazing and it came out beautiful. Felix is weirdly perfect in doing a weave, I didn't even have to show him how, he even managed to add little rose designs to it (in honor of me).

“I think it's too pretty to eat”

“Well I eat you frequently and I always think your to pretty to eat also”

I blush profoundly at his very vulgar statement, he has such a dirty mouth sometimes. I shy away from him from embarrassment and cover my face to hide my red face.

“Hey now, don't shy away, you never get shy in mentioned acts”

“FELIX!?”

He snorts at my outburst “You cannot deny it little love”

“Still, what if someone hears you”

“Love? Demetri has seen you naked before, even though he vowed to never bring it up to you, he has also heard those cute little noises you make”

I snap my gaze at him and stare at him like a fish out of water, damn no wonder Demetri wiggles his eyebrows at me whenever he sees me in the mornings.

I turn away and look at the pie again and back to him “Is that what you and him talk about then, me?”

“Always”

“Wow, i can't wait to be turned so I can kick yours and Demetris ass, maybe Jane will help me too”

His smile dropped and he clutched his chest and dramatically exclaimed “You would want to see your own mate in pain? I thought you loved me? I thought you couldn't bear to see me in pain?”

“Well with the things you put me though I might need Alec too”

“Damn betrayed by my own love of my life”

I chuckled at his theatrics.

“I love you my dramatic amor”

“I love you too pitufina”

Yes this is the life I can't wait to live for eternity with him, my sweet loving mate who has a secret teddy bear side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little translation:

Amor: Love

Mi vida: My life

Pitufina: a nickname for someone who is short or it actually translate to smurfette

#felix volturi #the volturi #felix volturi x reader #felix volturi imagine #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #twilight saga #volturi

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yxstxrdrxxm-a · 1 year ago

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SYNOPSIS: Kazuha, a well-known tailor in Inazuma, had a spouse. It's only a shame that his spouse is known for their 'infidelity' in his eyes. [ songfic ]

TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking, minor and major character death/s, emotional manipulation in a way, gore, violence, fire/arson, sewing... questionable fabric, unreliable narrator, shifting POVs, dead dove: do not eat, dollification, delusional thinking, Kazuha progressively loses it till the end, beheading, oh God this fic and tws are long Im so sorry―

NOTE: During the fic, it is recommended to listen to "The Tailor of Enbizaka". It will make sense when you read through this fic :)

(also, I apologize if this took a while for me to write. I got busy and writer's block hit me :( anyways, second work and its the best boy! Though, I hope you all don't blame me for fucking him up. Also also!! This is very much a long, LONG fic— like 2k+ long, so 🫡 gl soldier, I'll see if I don't need to make this to a 2 part series)

(update: this fic took 6k words, good luck y'all, this one is a WILD ride)

In Inazuma, there is a tale that is shared by many about a crimson clad man and his lover.

The others never settled on what he looked during the day before his death, nor were they sure what his prior job was before he became a tailor. However, they always complimented him for his looks and his skill, knowing that whatever he used as his own special fabric would be tailored and taken care of well.

Even with one full of holes and tears, he is gifted with the ability to patch them up till it was brand new. In the village he lived in, he was regarded for having such a talent, and he had his shop open and full of visitors.

However, the only thing that made people question him was his behavior. Despite how mild-manner the tailor was, he often comments on how his beloved darling refused to come home and continues to cheat on him.

Many those that still lived during the time said the crimson-eyed tailor acted delusional, but just how far can those delusions go?

No one knows but the man himself... And the one who persecuted him, too.

It was that year since I've seen my beloved after the accident.

A year that, when I saw them, I've longed to see them and speak to them about our time together as a married couple.

To begin with, I am Kaedehara Kazuha, or― as the townsfolk here call me, the 'Crimson-Eyed Tailor'. Although I am highly regarded for my craftsmanship, many told me that I am odd for my adoration for my beloved maple.

Why is it that odd? I thought all married couples do this, even if some think that it feels off.

Besides that, however, my darling isn't quite aware of my... Endeavors. More specifically, their streak of getting out for hours, perhaps days and weeks, and not even coming around to speak to me.

I am bound to them by an oath when we were married: we both drank sake together under that faithful light of the moon, with only nature watching over us. However, it would seem as if they have forgotten that, and ended up cheating on me in broad daylight.

Like they had no such shame.

Alas, I am but their husband, and I can't simply get mad at my beloved spouse. I know they did no wrong, for they sometimes meet with others as an act of being 'friendly'.

So while I focused on fixing the kimono, I've began to hear something that had been passed around in the village.

Something related to my darling's little ventures.

"I have spoken to [Name] about the matters in their marriage recently," one of the ladies spoke, her voice not so soft enough to conceal who she was speaking about as I fixed the fabric in my hands.

"And from what they told me, they're getting their kimono fixed for when their lover returns home!"

I simply continued on sewing, but the lady's next words had me flinch.

"Ah, they've been married for years, aren't they? And it seems they even have their shiromuku ever since their marriage to sir Kamisato Ayato. How romantic!"

...

The blood continues to spill on my finger, with the needle that I used pricking it when I've lost focus and got too careless.

How uncouth.

From the tale shared by the folks of Narukami Island, they talked about the crimson-eyed tailor's marriage with his supposed 'spouse': an immigrant of sorts from Fontaine, traversing to Inazuma to meet with their lover.

Their relationship together is strange. From the accounts of those with prying eyes, they said that he was the only one putting an effort to their relationship, and they wished to take it slow.

However, there are those that disagreed, saying that it had been the other way around— and it was he who wished for them to slow down.

No one can decide what the tailor had done, for they can't even tell if his desires were to rush or to slow down. But what can be confirmed is one thing everyone kept saying.

He doesn't like his trust being broken.

It had been days after hearing what I did.

I hadn't seen my dearest beloved in those days, and the day I saw them had been when the heir of the Kamisato clan had returned.

I had been busy as ever in sewing till I realized that I'm running out of thread. I don't have any spares, and I'm well aware that there are a few shops that sell supplies for sewing.

And so, on a lazy afternoon, I've got out of my shop in the hopes that I can catch the store to buy the supplies I needed.

The soft sound of wood hitting the pavement greeted my ears, alongside hushed murmuring and discussing with the commonfolk. I greeted a few that noticed me in passing, but they were swift to return to the people they were speaking to prior.

It was a mundane thing, really. But it was the type that felt familiar.

Turning a few corners, I managed to locate the shop I was looking for. Walking up the stairs, I waved at the lady taking care of the store—

—not before my ears perked up at the soft chattering in the distance.

My eyes trailed over to the source, and then, I see them.

My beloved maple.

I saw that they were conversing with the heir of the Kamisato clan, his hand reaching over to hand them a small gift: a small box, with the ribbon being the color of purple. I spot the gleam of gold on top of the ribbon, which eludes me to think that it is the insigna of the clan crested in gold.

How tacky.

I had to hold back the urge to stop them as their conversation was hard to discern, my focus back on the woman running the shop with the supplies I require.

"Hello, madame," I greeted, making the woman smile and nod in greeting as well. "Do you need fabric again, Kaedehara?"

I chuckled, but it was only to mask the bits of instability in my voice.

"Oh, not fabric, madame. I simply desire thread. I have ran out of red and black, and I didn't want to delay the commission I had from monsieur Lyney. Do you have any right now?"

"Red and black thread, hm? I can check at the back. Please give me a moment to look."

With a bow, the seamstress turned around to leave. With that, I let go of the breath I held and turned my gaze back to the bridge, just a few ways away from where my beloved sunset was at.

Watching the two figures, I couldn't help but simply stared at the attire that the heir wore.

Montsuki Haori Hakama: that usually means black or gray. I've known that colored kimonos were not worn with this in mind, and he certainly didn't wore anything that would be too straining.

Still, that shade of black is made of high quality. I'm not surprised if he wore it so rarely, as though to preserve the detail and its intricate work from his very own seamstress.

...

I wonder if I can take it?

Watching the two descend from the bridge, my eyes wandered back to the lady as she returned with the spools of thread, all varying in degrees of color and quality.

"Here you are, Kaedehara! These are the best I can find that fit the colors you asked for."

My eyes twinkled as I took the spools to my hands, my fingers turning and nudging the thread to see just how strong it is.

Interesting. Good quality, too... Maybe I can use this to finish that outfit I've been saving for a while.

"Thank you, madame," I thanked her, making her laugh. "Oh, it's not a problem, Kaedehara! You've done so much for this little town of ours, this is but a simple thing to repay for your efforts!"

With a nod, I paid the seamstress and turned back down to descend from the bustling upper part of the town, the sight of what happened in the bridge a bit further away bothering me from within.

No matter, Kazuha, I mused, carrying the items I required as I felt myself walk back home. Even if you want to get rid of him, it will be much too complicated. You simply need to be patient and wait till the opportunity comes.

...

Although, whoever made his clothes... I wonder if I can speak to them to inquire about their techniques.

The first case that started this was a cold one.

One that is related to a person no one knew so highly about, be it by their background, appearance, and even their name. All they were known for is being the 'tailor' for one of the clans.

There had been a lack of evidence and information about this due to how many tailors had been requested all across Inazuma at the time. It was understandable that people chalked up to them being missing as nothing more than an unfortunate case, not one worthy of being dug into.

Others had suspected that it had been associated with something else, that something (or someone) had done this deliberately. There was no evidence to this, but their claims were loud as they were bold, making it difficult to ascertain its authenticity.

However, the masses have all agreed that this was a normal occurrence. It was not one worth noting, because there had been a lot more that spoke of the same tale, always eluding to their fate being that they were murdered.

It was, unfortunately, the 'norm' of the village in the legend. A norm that, if the people of Inazuma heard it today, would have turned their heads in disgust for how abhorrent it sounds.

Still, many remained curious of the biggest what if that seem to echo in their mind.

Was the tailor associated with his sins?

The Kamisato clan has had it's ups and downs, and it isn't strange to see that they were seeking out talented tailors and workers to work under them.

What was surprising (to everyone), however, was that the head of the clan hired me to work as the Kamisato Clan's personal tailor.

The reasoning behind it was quite simple, especially with what the heir spoke to me when he and I met in the morning when I was to be summoned in the estate— due to his personal tailor (a family friend, he said) going missing for days, they were unable to track down his whereabouts and presumed that he has gone missing.

I was only hired as a "replacement" for the clan's special tailor till then, and he made it extremely clear that there was nothing else to it. Nothing that would spell the fact that I will permanently stay in that position.

Of course, to many, this may sound as an odd deal. There are so many tailors such as myself that would die to be consulted on, to work as the head of the clan's seamstress and work for their outfits. And perhaps, in their naivety, they may consider it as their efforts finally paying off in some way.

However, I have been in a clan myself before. This is nothing more if not a business deal.

A deal between one rising clan, and one whose surname has lost it's widely known heritage.

This only benefits the Kamisato Clan in the effort to save face. To save face of the potential backlash they'll deal with should any information of the missing clan's tailor be brought to light to everyone who remain blissfully ignorant of the innerworkings of the clan.

I would normally deny this kind of offer, mostly because there is no benefit for me to join and work for them. However, times have changed, and I simply reconsidered denying Kamisato Ayato's offer.

... There is a few benefits to me joining. It may be minimal, but it is better than scrounging around in the dark.

And so, I agreed to the offer.

The arrangements set for me to move was quite swift. I'm aware that that he is a man of his word, so it was quite easy for us to prepare my living arrangements and move to the estate.

With the supplies I get from the clan, it's been easy to stay put and gather information to the person I'm targeting.

... That was, until that day came.

I remember it clearly: it was the ends of fall, where the maple leaves fell more and more around the estate's grounds. This usually signified the coming of winter, so I usually savor the season by having time off to admire the scenery.

And in one of my walks, I had travelled from outside of the estate to see if things have changed.

Which, to my luck, I've encountered my darling beloved.

But just like last time, they were not alone.

In the journey of my wandering, I have seen them speak to the sibling of the older heir, Kamisato Ayaka, as they sit on the table outside of the Komore Teahouse.

From how far I am to the entrance of the teahouse, it gives me enough space to watch them interact like friends. The way that the Himegimi raised her fan to cover her face, perhaps from her eyes crinkling in amusement from what they told her...

... It was intriguing. Very intriguing.

So much so that I've felt the claws of envy grip in my chest, clutching its metal nails and making punctures on my already bleeding heart.

What a nuisance. Must you hurt me like this, darling?

I can hardly remember what happened after that. After all, my focus had been set on the two speaking to each other like they were simply companions, unknowing of what fate may bring upon them.

...

"Oh? Kazuha! I didn't notice you came to the Teahouse as well!"

My attention was swiftly pulled away from the sight of my dearest gem, and it landed on the familiar sight of olive eyes. From the appearance alone, many wouldn't think that an immigrant of Mondstadt would be a fixer.

Not even I would be able to see it happen.

However, this man had the skills to prove of his worth— after all, being Inazuma's 'fixer', he's often the go-to man to fix any and every problem that the Narukami Island and others may face.

Which makes him a glass canon— one that is volatile and unpredictable, even under the guise of a friendly face.

That is what Thoma is.

But this "glass cannon" has his weakness, and I know how to use it to my advantage.

Letting a smile slip to my lips, I chuckled, raising my hand to cover my mouth. "Well, I've been foretold by others about Komore Teahouse and it's history. I've been meaning to visit it, but I'm so busy fixing kimonos and making them to have time to spare."

A white lie, but then again, there are many of those that have been foretold in the waking of this world.

What does adding one do at this point? I'm already damned by the heavens the day I've seen the 'truth' of this fate of mine.

Just one lie wouldn't hurt, right?

"Haha, I can't blame you," the taller blonde seem to answer my query with his own, albeit he did seem to look more like he was at ease. Still, I needed to be weary; he can change sides if he so much as sensed that something is wrong.

"After all, with what the missing tailor in the clan circulating around the others in the estate, I'm even surprised that you manage to fill up in their position for months!"

... Oh? So he's noticed my talents, hm?

I shook my head.

"Oh, please. I'm just a humble tailor, Thoma," I reasoned, letting out a heavy sigh. "I have thought of asking them for advice on how they do their work, but since they're missing, all I can do is substitute for their absence."

He gave me an apologetic smile and nodded.

"That is true... I guess I'm just a bit too ecstatic to finally have someone that can fill in their role seamlessly. Lord Kamisato Ayato would've been panicking if we didn't have a replacement soon for his anniversary with his spouse."

... Spouse, huh?

"Hm... Is that so?"

I frowned in thought as I ponder over wanting to... Ask him for a favor. Sure, this one wouldn't do well on one's conscious mind if they knew, but it was simply for their sake.

It was all for them. I knew that.

It wouldn't hurt anyone if I asked Thoma to do this for me. At least, while I still have the chance to do so.

I can only hope the cannon does not think of shooting it's shot to me if I slipped up.

"Speaking of, Thoma, may I ask you for a favor?"

After the first missing case of the tailor, there had been more that were reported. The victims were all varied in their appearance, age, and even from where they used to live, be it in Narukami Island or even outside of Inazuma itself.

It was difficult to tell how many there were exactly, especially with how the legend is interpreted. Some said it was 20, while others said it was 50. This legend has been passed mouth to mouth, so details were not a key figure for a few to remember well.

However, every iteration has the same detail. The victims all had the same similarity as the tailor that simply went "missing".

All of them, in some way, were associated with certain individuals— one of them being his maple, where a few commented that they were the apple of the crimson man's eye.

From the legend and how it has been told, it is safe to assume that the motive was obvious from the first missing case.

It is akin of an open secret, if said secret was twisted to fit his ideals.

"Haven't you heard?"

"What? What is it?"

"The fixer, Thoma… He went missing just few days ago."

"What!?"

…

Ah, so he went missing like the others?

My ears had perked up at the news that we were told. Although Thoma is one many people never thought of being a 'target', the fact he went missing is... Odd.

"Perhaps he had done something," I heard one of the servants whisper amongst themselves, looking rather cautious. "After all, he's been very privy on a few things..."

"Yes, but he isn't the person I'd expect to vanish like that—"

"Shh—! People are going to hear you, you know! Keep it down!"

Hearing their footsteps echo as they take their leave, I turned back to what I have been working on. The sight of the kimono graced my vision as I raised the needle.

I began to sew the tears on it, letting out a soft hum while I fixed the black fabric from it's horrible state.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut—

"Sir Kaedehara? Someone is looking for you."

...!

I felt the needle prick my finger, but I didn't say anything. With a quiet hum, I raised my head to see someone speak to me, their face grim as they shifted on their feet.

Ah.

Despite the feeling of blood pour onto the fabric, I smiled and nodded, putting down the fabric of the kimono I was fixing.

"I'll be right there. Please tell them to wait for me."

"Really? Oh, thank Archons. I'll get going."

Watching them take their leave, my eyes flit over to my scissors.

Still as sharp as ever, I mused, pushing myself to stand up before fixing my attire. Mayhaps today won't need it to be sharpened.

For now, I had to see what the client wants from me. It would simply be a shame if I leave them alone for far, far too long.

Mayhaps they're here to inquire about the kimono I made. I made sure to add my personal touch to it.

...

As I walked to where my client sought to look for me, I see a familiar sight befell in the grounds of the Kamisato Estate.

The himegimi is currently speaking to my betrothed like they are close companions, and the magician (Lyney was his name, I recall), had been listening to their discussion at hand.

His eyes seem to lit up when he saw me, offering me a welcoming grin.

"You must be the tailor that my sister assigned, aren't you?" he asked when I was close enough to hear him, making me chuckle. Taking a seat across, I simply nodded, keeping my professional smile and demeanor in fear of offending him.

"Indeed, I am that tailor. My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Haha, please, the pleasure is all mine!"

The magician shook my hand with mine, and the meeting went as smoothly as one may expect. Although, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander sometimes to where my lover is.

You were speaking to Ayaka like she's a friend of yours. I shan't stop you, darling, but perhaps you aren't aware of the pain you put me through.

Still, I couldn't afford to raise my voice, nor can I think of hurting you with my actions.

How unfortunate. Mayhaps I need to teach you a lesson myself, my angel.

If there was one thing that the legend failed to elaborate, it is the state of the missing people. However, there were... Creative liberties to those that began to see if the legend was true; or, pray tell, associated with any real life events.

To the eyes of others, going missing is a serious deal. It sparks a lot of ideas for what could've happened to them, and especially if they are alive or dead.

Albeit many shrugged off the prior cases, this one was serious. After all, the one that went 'missing' is the fixer of Narukami Island— Thoma, the immigrant in the nation of lightning.

It is, after all, what sparked the eventual downfall of the crimson-eyed tailor and his beloved. Many had thought this was the turning point, but those that did were found to be wrong.

This, after all, was simply the beginning of such downfall. But it wasn't to his lover, the missing residents, or even his companions.

It was to himself, when he used the blades to commit a sin undeserving of forgiveness.

The news that brought upon the missing Himegimi greeted the Kamisato estate that day.

I remember how people were in a disarray. They were much more shaken as they tried to get any sort of lead to where she is, and for some, they were already thinking of quitting.

The estate is already shaken from when Thoma went missing, but now that the young heiress has up and disappeared— especially in winter— it was in chaos.

While I sew the kimonos handed to me, there was an obi that laid on the pile by my right. It was a bit worn, but it can still be saved.

I needed to fix it, and give it my own personal touch. That way, it wouldn't look as though it had been abandoned by it's past owner.

Alas, the noise is getting to me. I could feel the silk resting on my bandaged hand slip every once in a while, if it weren't for how tight I've been holding the fabric.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I needed to put my focus on what I'm doing. I needed to focus on the job.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I mustn't let blood nor dirt stain my creations.

That is what my mother taught me.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, se—

"I apologize if the estate is in a disarray, detective," I hear a familiar voice speak amongst the hushed and panicked whispers. "The estate hasn't been the same ever since my retainer and my younger sibling had gone missing."

"Oh, it's alright! I'm sure this matter is too serious for you and the others to keep things organized."

"Haha... You can say that it is. Now, it's just right this way..."

... A detective is in the estate. How curious.

It wasn't right to snoop, but I was curious. Curious enough to have finished the kimono I was fixing before I stood to leave my quarters.

The others paid no heed as I followed after the two to Ayato's room, too focused to do what they were assigned to even bat an eye when I got close to where they were heading.

It was only when they were inside that I've stopped and simply bid my time, my focus set on what was happening by the shoji leading to his office. And it didn't took long till I hear things from the other side.

"Ah, so you think that someone is out for you?"

"Yes. Although I am normally adept in figuring out who it could be that's causing this to happen, I can't put heads or tails with how their presence eludes me."

"Man alive... And you said that it started when they went missing?"

"... Yes, detective."

"I see... Man alive, that sounds like it wasn't just a single, one-off case, then. I can help you, but this will take a while if there's no leads."

"I see. It's fine, detective. I'll pay you enough when you figure out where my retainer and sister are. I could hardly think that someone would take them without such consequence."

"Oh, no worries. With me around, no criminal will get out unscathed— I'll make sure to bring them here when I figure out who did this."

...

I see.

Perhaps its about time I have to settle this with him.

There was a time where I have thought that things will change.

Where these cases will be laid forgotten, perhaps even unresolved with the lack of hints.

I spent weeks on end, keeping my tracks short and erasing any leads that can lead towards me again.

I spent so, so long trying so desperately to hide anything resembling my crimes.

But alas... He found me.

It was the time where I had to dispose of those bodies. Although I had no heart to bury them under nature, I was not above treating them as though they were simply people.

Even in death, I wanted to make them feel like they look peaceful. Although, perhaps simply sewing their wounds left by my scissors was not something I can treat.

In the middle of the night, I was carrying the Himegimi outside of the abandoned houses I tend to with her retainer, Thoma. I had thought of letting her rest someplace else. Her attire has been sullied, and I needed to keep the two somewhere where no one can find them.

Corpses rot over time, and if it was possible, letting them turn to nothing in the likes of Tsurumi Island will be enough for my weary heart to rest.

With how adept I am of keeping my tracks hidden, I had thought no one would be able to tail on me. But alas, due to the missing cases I've caused, perhaps I wasn't expecting this to happen.

"I knew you'd be here, Kaedehara Kazuha."

I simply paused upon hearing his voice, my head craning back to see that it was Ayato. Despite how composed he looks, I can tell that the nights he spent trying to search for his beloved sibling and retainer wore him down.

His once flawless appearance was nothing but sullied, his attire feeling like its simply hanging off of him, and the way he staggered while looking at me without a shred of restrain is new. Raw for such a heir.

"And that body..." he murmured, his eyes glaring daggers when he found out who it was.

Perhaps it's her dress that makes her recognizable. Or the hair.

"... I thought I've erased everything that can lead back to me," I spoke, sighing as I placed Ayaka's body down. "What a shame. I was quite close to erasing any traces and signs of their whereabouts. It would be nice to only have them be marked as 'missing', not dead."

"So... You admit to it, then?" the heir asked, walking over with stride. "That you have done this, Kaedehara?"

I simply said nothing.

And I knew that was enough of a confirmation for him.

"I knew something was wrong with you," I heard him speak, which caught my attention. Turning my body to finally face him, I watched as he scoffed and continued, "After all, a man as serene as you often had the worst to hide."

"Oh? How curious. Why would you say that?"

I saw his lips curl to a smile.

"Why, I had someone tail after you," he answered, his tone sounding so blunt and his demeanor became more like he's simply 'teaching' me something. "Someone that is associated with the clan. I'm sure you know who it is."

... How uncouth.

"I see... And you confronted me now? For what?"

"A duel."

He unsheathed his blade, and raised it towards my direction.

"I do not usually participate in these, but I'd like to honor your tradition. If I win, you turn yourself in to the Tenryou Commission. Confess all of your crimes, and we shall call it even."

"... Very well."

I raised my own blade, as a sign to his own.

"I needn't state my own terms if I lose, as I can't let you get out alive. Now, let us settle this matter... To each of our graves."

Usually, such details cannot be recreated from interpretation alone.

However, this one was the few exceptions to it's inevitable fate due to it's popularity.

The legend had focused on keeping the existence and ties of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor up for the listener's interpretation. This scene, however, was directly associated to a case that had been tackled many years ago.

The case went as such: each resident of a town goes missing each week. No one knows when it happens, as the day is often random. The victims of these disappearances are also random, so no one could derive from it being a 'pattern'.

No matter how young or old one is, their gender, their living conditions, and even their past... When they least expect it, they simply vanish. Erased.

The only times where the victim was found, several eye-witnesses had different iterations. Some said that the bodies were buried, while others found it floating by riverbanks and the side of the sea.

But the most common— and widely known, of course— was that each victim were made to a doll.

Their limbs were nothing if not sewn with thread, cuts of various degrees being patched with thread of similar color to 'mask' it's oddity. Their eyes were closed, but those that were unfortunate to open it were only greeted with it being turned to the back of their heads.

In some victims, several pieces of their possession were taken. However, most kept theirs on their person, and were seen to not be tampered with.

No one knows what drove someone to this degree. No one can even comprehend such a fact that it was entirely possible.

But to someone who's mind was twisted to the point of no return... It was.

This case had a name, but every resident of Inazuma refused to speak of it. Each time one does, they were told of the legend behind this case.

They were told of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, and they were warned of one thing.

"Do not look at him or his betrothed. If you do, you're as good as dead."

...

It had been a year since our fight happened.

I remember the chaos that occurred back when I finally erased that man. Although it did left his body in an undesirable state, I still fixed and sew him up so that he didn't look as such.

Even in death, I wish to give the heir some form of dignity. That, in some way, I wish to give him his final respects.

After all, he had simply misunderstood my intentions. He didn't knew that I was out for one person from the very beginning.

The downfall of the Kamisato Clan was imminent at that point. I've seen many flee, and witnessed the tragedy befall on the Narukami Island. Many of the people I've met had simply ran off to seek refuge, the terror grasping and choking them like they were unable to think.

However, I remain clear. And I simply continued to do my work diligently.

I have been working on something... Special. And with one last snip of my bloodied scissors, it was now complete.

My final and life-long work, all laid across and now in my hands. The fabric I chose was rather difficult to sew. I should have known that human skin would be too hard, depending on where I retrieved it from.

Dying it in black, I wrapped the obi that had been sewn with the use of the Himegimi's locks, and retrieved the crest of the Kamisato Clan. Adorning it on my person, I viewed myself at the mirror to see my handiwork.

"Finally," I murmured, feeling an odd sensation in my chest as I wore the fruits of my labor. "It is now complete."

With the chaos guiding me and masking my presence, I fled to head by the mountain.

I knew where you were bound to go.

I knew of your crimes long before you knew me.

I didn't paid much attention if anyone saw me. I didn't care if blood simply poured from my attire and to the ground that I'm walking on. I could hardly give a damn if some realized of my crimes in that blasted estate.

I had my scissors with me, and I only wish to fulfill my last wish before I leave this cursed world.

You murdered my family, [Name].

You were the one who caused that fire all those years ago.

I remember those burns you gave me. I remember just how much of a coward you were, fleeing from the scene you caused yourself.

How could I lose everything? And how can you keep your family?

No. No, that mustn't happen. I must set this right.

As your 'lover', I'll make sure you understand what you did wrong.

The culprit of the legend was caught, at least by the end.

All of the townsfolk had banded over to help the detective figure out who had caused such a stir, and it was only because of one eye-witness that said everything. That simply told the truth of the man behind it all.

It was the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, the one who was gripped with envy, that caused such a massacre to occur.

When they found what became of the last victim, his 'lover', they became a doll of his own. After killing them, the legend proceeded to speak of how he had simply 'sown' their skin alongside his, making them his perfect beloved doll.

One of the iterations even mentioned that his unnamed lover was in a Shiromuku outfit, eyes gouged so they may "never look at another man". At least, from what the tale has concluded.

Because of the severity of his crime, the tailor was sent to be on his death row. When the detective tried to get information out of him, they found out that he has lost his mind.

He became a shell of the brilliant man they knew, laughing and speaking that he has finally fulfilled his desire.

Even when he was dragged onto the guillotine, that day was marked as the end of the massacre, and those who were alive spoke of the man's chilling laughter up until his head was cut off.

...

And that was the end of the "Crimson-Eyed Tailor" and his legend.

Or, more accurately, the history of the known "Dead Man's Heart" case, and how Kaedehara Kazuha murdered the one he "loved" for revenge.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

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affectionate-team · 1 year ago

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Picture-perfect fairytale romance 1/3

Synopsis: Fairytales help tell children of all sides of human life without exposing them to real dangers. But what will happen if a child keeps their favorite story far too close to heart, projecting fantasies onto reality?

TW for mildly delusional Neige (only hints of it in this part), kinda ooc, MC only gets called 'knight' one time with no real descriptions, so you could say they're gn, barely proof read. I'm going to write two more parts later, as I cannot allow myself to write a story without at least attempting to look at it from all possible angles. :P

"...Trees parted before the brave knight, bowing in respect and opening the path ahead. Soon he came to a clearing in the woods.

Among the flowerbeds and tall grass laid a cloud of white and pink sateen. Upon coming closer, the knight realized that it was a person! A beautiful young woman with a face fresh like first snow. Her locks gently framed her face, bringing out its soft shape. The lady's lips, red like old wine, were barely open. Beads of tears sat on her lashes, glistening like morning dew. As if enchanted, the knight kneeled over the sleeping beauty, reaching out a hand to touch her and make sure what he was seeing was no dream.

No matter what, the woman wouldn't wake up, lost in her slumber - or perhaps a heavy spell cast on her. Concerned animals peered at the man from behind the bushes, hopeful at the thought he'd finally awaken the princess. The hero kneeled at her side, brushing a stray strand of hair aside to take a proper look on her face. Then, slowly and carefully, he leaved closer, connecting their lips in a kiss....

The spell fell, and the beauty's eyes opened once again..."

Stories like this one are a classic. A princess, a knight and a kiss of true love. What happens after is always the same. Every child has heard at least one of such tales, many have and still do dream to live out a magical story like that.

"...And they lived happily ever after."

Forever and ever, even after eternity.

A woman in her twenties sat on the bed of a small boy. Resemblance between them was clear as day - hair dark like wood, skin white as snow, lips red as fresh blood. The woman shut the book in her hands and placed it on a nightstand. She leaned down to place a kiss on top of her son's forehead. The boy giggled, rubbing his face with a chubby hand to wipe away a lipstick stain.

"Now, dear, it's time to sleep."

With a light motion, she tucked the blanket in at his sides to keep him warm at night. Beady-eyed plush animals and soft frilly pillows surrounded him. With a final fond gaze, the woman snuffed out all lights, disappearing after turning a corner.

The boy clutched his blanket, turning on a side to look into the open window. Darkness enveloped the night sky; only stars, usually outshone by the great Sun, dared to come out and hold their post, spilling light on all that's hiding in the dark. They stay high up to bear witness to all wishes shared with them at late hours, hearing out desperate calls of hopeful hearts. And that night, the stars heeded a young soul's wish.

"Maybe... Someday My Princess Will Come?"

Ringing of school bells was resonating through the entire building. Students flooded from classrooms, crowding in halls, desperate to escape classes as soon as they could. The commotion they were causing could be heard from outside, some students rushing to Mirror Hall, some staying back to turn in their assignments, attend clubs or hang out with friends. You could see all of that through the windows

Rook promised to meet you near front gates to escort you to the gardens. He was assigned as your personal alchemy tutor by Professor Crewel. As eccentric as this particular junior seemed, his vast knowledge was deserving of recognition - as expected of a vice-leader of Pomefiore, a dorm specializing in potionology, and his strictness regarding practical assignments could rival even that of the Professor himself. So, a perfect solution for a poor magicless student that has never had anything to do with magical herbs. Originally, both you and Grim had had to attend tutoring sessions, but the latter turned tail at the last moment, and even if he were to be brought back forcefully, he'd be more of a distraction than anything else. That's where it leaves you - in front of the gates, glancing at your phone every few seconds in doubt and growing disbelief. Rook was running late.

The hunter told you specifically to wait for him after seventh lesson as it was supposed to be the last in his schedule, so where is he? Could he have been held back by his dormleader to discuss important matters, or stolen by co-members of science club that were in need of advice and assistance, or perhaps even lost in a pursue of a curious non-human student he wanted to observe before they escape his sights?

As if there was nothing on your to-do list for today, other than loitering around, waiting for him. It's hard to suppress a sigh. You took the waiting time as an opportunity to look around.

And there was a reason to it. With how wild Night Raven is, it had been near impossible to take a breather (or was it just your luck?) and enjoy something as simple as fresh air. A shame it is - there is so much to see in Twisted Wonderland. Try and find a single fairy, dragon or fire-breathing flower on Earth; but there, nothing of such is a novelty. To think about it, ever since arriving to NRC, you haven't spared a thought to how this world works: Where does magic even come from, and how exactly does it work? Why don't mages try and reuse accumulated blot, like humans in your world do to wastes? How did they manage to advance in technology when they seem to rely so heavily on their magical abilities? Do beastmen and merfolk actually have any biological relation to humans or-

Rustling of leaves took your mind away from daydreaming. For a second you expected Rook to emerge from the bushes, or maybe even from the top of a tree, picking a stray leave out of his hair and greeting you in his own special manner, but what appeared before your eyes did not resemble the hunter in the slightest. In his stead before you stood a... deer? Doe-eyed, absent-minded creature on four long trembling legs - undoubtedly a deer, but what would it be doing on school grounds?

The dreamy animal seemed to pay no mind to your presence, taking a step out of the forest and heading down the main street. It sniffed around, possibly looking for something or just lost, before averting its attention to a small shiny object lying in the grass. The deer picked it up it its teeth after a few awkward attempts and turned back to where it had come from, steps hurried and unsure.

The prefect has seen things. They have seen creatures of many magical kinds, most curious of artifacts and wildest of spectacles. They've been through it all. But suddenly, what they found to be fascinating is a regular deer, same as any other one inhabitating the Earth, carrying a little treasure - most likely a trinket lost by a careless student - into the forest. And as they always did, they decided to follow their heart's impulsive call in favor of satiating their curiosity, stalking after the animal carefully, as not to alert it, - tutoring session be damned.

Trail had turned many times, but eventually you noticed a clearing from afar. As if a picture taken straight from a fairytale book, the area was enveloped in light and surrounded by tall trees, serving as a barrier between that piece of paradise and the outside world. Blankets of grass were laid upon the ground, so each of your steps was silenced - nothing could disturb peace there. It almost seemed like time had been frozen. And among all the beauty of nature sat a figure. Flowers bloomed brighter, grass felt softer, predating animals were peaceful and pliant - all in their presence. If not for the most vigilant of them, sensing your smell ever since you passed the barrier, you would've stopped to admire the sight; alas, after receiving a message from one of their little friends, the figure turned around, catching you approaching them.

Their beauty took your breath away.

The first thing - person - your mind brought up is Snow White from the old children's tale. What uncanny resemblance. Cherry-red lips, contrasting unbelievably pale complexion, shiny ink-black hair, and obvious innocence oozing off of every fiber of their being. His being.

"Ah... hello?"

Staying silent would be awkward... and weird. He probably had come here to escape from noisy school grounds and find a sliver of peace and privacy, but here you were, disturbing the angelic boy, having uncovered his secret place, and-

"Hello! What brought you here? Have you perhaps gotten lost?", his smile is something made high above, as that's the only reasoning you could give to the sudden calm that overtook you when you saw it.

"No, not exactly. I just noticed a-", you noticed the oh-so-familiar deer nudge the boy before you with its head, dropping the stolen shiny item off onto the ground near him, "that one deer! It stole something from the school grounds; a student must've lost it, so... as a prefect, I wanted to...", his eyes brightened up upon inspecting the trinket - it turned out to be a keychain - with such child-like wonder, "...as I prefect, I wanted to make sure it got back to the owner, but if you like it, I guess it can't be helped! Doubt I would've been able to find who it belongs to anyways, so...haha.."

"How could I! I am sure this accessory must be precious to its owner, I cannot take it for myself.", in one graceful motion, the stranger got up to his feet and approached you, holding the keychain in both palms, as if offering a fragile and expensive gem, "It's so nice of you to take initiative and go all the way here to retrieve this. Please, bring it back safely, I hope it'll make the person who lost this happier."

He was saying all that like he was entrusting you a task of ultimate importance, and with such a serious expression, too...

"Yeah, sure, I will..", you received the item from him, accidentally brushing fingers against his skin - soft, so soft and gentle... A flash of light blinked in the corner of your eye, but died down as soon as it appeared.

"By the way," it was only at that moment that his uniform catched your attention, "Aren't you a Royal Swords Academy student? What are you doing so far away, especially near Night Raven?"

"Oh, you noticed.. To put it simple, I enjoy taking walks around there. It-", he stumbled over words, first time in the last few minutes, "I got bored of sights near my school, and decided to find someplace different. Surely, I'm not bothering anyone nearby?"

Avoiding questions now? "You're not, don't worry, I was just curious, never seen you around there. Care for introductions?"

"...are you saying you don't know me?", the boy inquired with cleat disbelief in voice.

"If I knew you, would I be asking for your name?"

Still unsure, he shook his head gently, clutching at his vest. "You wouldn't... So you really haven't seen anything?", his tone changes suddenly, "That's fine, more than! My name is Neige, pleased to meet you."

You took the hand he offered for a handshake and gave Neige your own name. Wind picked up a notch, kicking up fallen leaves and dust and blowing right in your face; while you were blinked profusely, the boy still looked like he came out of a magazine cover, if not better than before.

Soon you both went your separate ways, the sparkly keychain clinking in your blazer pocket. Trying to retrace your steps back to Night Raven must be bothersome, but not impossible - you'll be back before dusk.

So thought Neige, staying back behind a tree to have one more chance to look at you. So kind, so simple - knightly, even! So eager to help out a schoolmate in need. And here he thought Gran had been right about NRC students being crude. Or was there a mistake, and you had been sent to a wrong place?

"They would fit in with us well... Dominic would surely like them."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuurei's fics #gender neutral reader #neige leblanche #twst neige #neige x reader #hnggg i hope this piece look good `(*>﹏<*)′#i've been mulling over this scenario for so long unable to put my thoughts into words!#so frustrating...#yandere

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linka-from-captain-planet · 7 months ago

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Rating BG3 Ladies Oral Game

By popular (1 anon) demand. With a bonus segment, Does She Eat Ass?

Ratings based on vibes and also facts opinions (controversial: not everyone can be a sex god).

all the main and supporting women + my background babes: Florrick, Talli, Alfira, Lakrissa, Araj, Nocturne, Skoona, Adrielle, Z'rell, Nine-Fingers, and special guest star Philomeen

*Sex is like pizza, so average results are in fact still pretty good. Only 2, 1, and 0/10 are truly trash head. So a 5 or 6 is still a compliment!*

Lae'zel: 10/10. Her appetite is voracious. Her will is steel, and her tongue is silver. As a lifelong try-hard, Lae'zel can't settle for anything less than stellar, and eating out is no exception. She can be a bit too clinical with it at the start, but once her heart is freed from its stone prison, her sensuality comes pouring out her lips and tongue.

Shadowheart: 9/10. This is her wheelhouse. This is what she's been up to for the last 30 years. She loses a point because her brand of teasing and/or being coy occasionally doesn't translate; there's a difference between a slow burn and letting a lover go cold, and she can slip up sometimes and forget she's pleasuring, not torturing. But overall? Who knew such a delicate touch could make you come apart like that.

Karlach: 11/10. She's a natural, and she's ravenous. For touch. For affection. To please, to be good. She tunes all the way in. No notes. She's all up in and/or on that thang, front, back, side to side, not a drop left when she's done with it. The most finesse? No, but a hammer doesn't need frills and lace to knock in a nail.

Minthara: 12/10. Even better than her stroke game. It feeds her ego like no other, and what feeds Minthara's ego is also good for her lover. Dominant even when giving head, and she puts that nose and chin to werk. You're done when she's done, not the other way around. Eats 110% of it, leaves no crumbs.

Jaheira: 6/10. Frankly, Jaheira is just not that horny and so, while her skills are well-honed, she just doesn't have that killer instinct to catapult her into higher tiers. She's too busy to spend two hours between someone's legs, so she aims to get it done nice and quick, but thorough. She's no quitter, after all, and her dedication to the goal is unshakeable.

Isobel: 8/10. A little too much of a tease for anyone who's not an edging enthusiast, but she puts her money where her mouth is. She's incredibly in-tuned with a partner, so once she's zoned in, she's got it locked down. Her focus is unbreakable. Doesn't have the most stamina, but she more than knows how to make up for it. You don't need hours and hours for Isobel to take you apart.

Aylin: 7/10 or 100/10 IF her face is being sat on. My controversial take for this post. But I think that while Aylin's tongue is GOATed and she loves pleasing her partner, it's just an act that isn't enough for her. She wants to touch, feel, suck, lick, caress, tease it all, not just a fraction of her beloved. Her hands and tongue wander. She flits around, sampling it all. Keeping her in that one place, on-task, can require some input from her partner, so they can't quite relax all the way and melt under her. This is where the face-sitting specification comes in. Surrounded so, held down (even by someone MUCH smaller), being taken as much as she gives--------- that's where she really shines.

Mizora: -100/10. Again... get real.

Orin: 5/10. She is a rolling stone. She is a whimsical sort. Eating out requires focus that she certainly has, but can she employ it on a dependable enough basis? She can also get too artful with it. Sometimes A->B is the right path and you don't need to murder someone and stash their corpse in an abandoned one-room house inbetween licks, ya know?

Florrick: 9/10. Look at that profile. That nose. That chin. Those lips. Observe her delusional confidence, her endless fidelity, her relentless pursuit of her goals. Did you feel that tremble? It was your [preferred genital word]. She comes home from a long day of bossing people around and serving the greater good, ready to pamper someone, to serve herself, and she's hungry. Her only downside is that she can be a bit efficient with it; it takes her time to warm up emotionally, and not treat you like just another item on her to-do list.

Talli: 8/10. Happy to be of service, always. A very thorough, straightforward, good-game-giving mouth. Lacks creativity, but completely consistent, reliable, and (if desired) romantic.

Alfira: 8/10. A little clumsy, a little distractible, but you can't beat the dedication. Amazing breath-holding capacity. Unlike some other be-fanged women, she loves her teeth and knows how to deploy them. She keeps ya guessing, which does have a few negatives, but overall? More than makes up for her complete lack of stroke game.

Lakrissa: 6/10. She talks a big bigger game than she actually has, surprisingly. She's a little too restless, a little too fidgety. She likes to use more of her body than she can while going down, so it's kind or boring for her tbh. She likes the taste and the emotional/mental experience for herself, more than she likes actually doing it. But for her love? Anything. She'll sit down there for hours if need be.

Araj: 2/10. The future Matron Mother of the Restored House Oblodra does not get on her knees. You try to tell her that there are many other options, but she doesn't listen. Only goes down when she's trying to steal your secretions for her alchemy. It's not worth it.

Nocturne: 7/10. Like Shadowheart, she had to be entertaining herself somehow for all the decades in the cloister so her skills are above average. But she's a little more submissive, and tends to pigeonhole herself; she can't quite pull off a toppy tongue sesh. If she's not on her knees, she doesn't quite know how to do it. Certified biter, interested in the intersection between pleasure and pain.

Skoona: 7/10. A little self-conscious of her tusks, but she's always found the act romantic and fulfilling. Likes to hold hands during.

Adrielle: 3/10. She's a little self-conscious, a little too intimidated. A little too desperate to be good. In one's own head is the worst place to be when trying to go down on someone, and that's where she is. Will get you there, but hardly a world-shaking experience.

Z'rell: 1 Billion/10. Look, it's still not for YOU, but in case you were wondering: at least 17 someones out there are getting it ATE. Front, back, side to side, axes that don't even exist in our plane. You're missing out. Pathetic.

Nine-Fingers: 7/10. Makes your legs shake, but can be a little too intense. She can come on too strong. She can make it feel like a competition, or like there's something else on her mind that's not you. Keeping her engaged is a You problem, but if you can? Very good.

Philomeen: ?/10. She does not go down, ever; she's made that mistake before long ago (making the hoes think she cares about them) and she's nawt gonna make it again!!

In addition: Does she eat ass?

Eats ass completely unprompted: Lae'zel, Minthara, Orin, Z'rell Offers to eat ass: Shadowheart, Karlach, Aylin, Florrick, Nocturne Eats ass if asked: Jaheira, Isobel, Lakrissa, Nine-Fingers Considers it, but decides eating ass isn't for her: Alfira, Talli, Skoona Definitely doesn't eat ass: Mizora, Araj, Adrielle, Philomeen

#nsft #overall these skew high bc these women mostly all have that “neurotic repressed freak” vibe that lends itself to throatGOAT status #also more alcohol was involved in this one and that's prob apparent

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jikookuntold · 10 months ago

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Sorry but don't you think it was already for Jikookers the moment JK's video was leaked ?

Saw many explanations and excuses saying it's made up, set up, fake etc. But really? There was no original source of video to prove it was edited. We can clearly see it's him in his apartment and bam running around him. It was filmed in Feb from his hairstyle, when bam was still with him. I saw some of big Jikokkers here having a relieved sigh when he said he don't have a gf now but He only said he don't have a gf in September. Tbh enough time to casually date and breakup with a girl.. which I've always thought his dating pattern is. So technically he wasn't lying either. And didn't he said he don't feel like wanting anyone and just want to concentrate on work for now? Doesn't that mean he don't have any partner but will have a gf in future ? In short not only he denied he had gf at the moment but also anyone special in his life. I don't think 'homophobic country' excuses applies as they literally enlisted together infront of everyone in the same country's military.

Also saw someone saying it can be a friend. But think.. who hugs some random girl in their apartment when their partner is not present there? Imagine spotting your bf hugging some random woman like that in apartment when they are alone at night. Doesn't make sense right ?

Another category of jikookers was going with 'open relationship' explanation but still not accepting Jikook is not romantically involved and everything was just them reading it wrong. Because if anyone listened to things Jimin said its clear af he only want to be in exclusive relationship.. maybe JK too but he was not even available for a serious relationship then.

Only a small percentage of Jikookers accepted its real and he has a gf irl or atleast not dating Jimin.

When i see Jikookers trying to deny it and find every excuses, it sounds like taekookers who still think Taennie was fake and army who think it's fake videos and pics.

But even worse for taekookers because one was seen holding his gf's hand in Paris while another was hugging his gf in his apartment all while choosing songs only about fucking women 😭 ik he said its not about his real life but only he chose songs like that. Others wrote their own songs but Tae's songs weren't autobiographical either and none of them were about fucking women or hetero sex. If it was rhythm he liked them they could've wrote some meaningful or even funny lyrics but nope all were about sex with women. If that doesn't tell about JK's sexuality and interests idk what will, 3D's choreo was fucking gross too. He's naturally drawn to what he likes. Tkkrs survive by lying and living in delusional world denying reality.. now jikookers also doing the same thing imo 🤷‍♀️ so idk why you have to make taekookers understand their ship is not real when Jikook isn't real too and 90% chance JK is straight af.

First of all, there is no reason for me to believe that blurry video posted on a chinese platform is Jungkook. Look for yourself, where is his lip piercing? Or the scar on his cheek? Or the mole under his lip? Huh? 😼

Wonder why that sasaeng who was spying for hours on a perfect angle on his window to catch him with the girl, didn't use a better cam instead of a toaster so their faces don't look like bread loafs? Even a normal phone has a better camera. Why in the other photos they leaked of him alone in his house the quality is good and the angle is completely different? When they explain this, I can agree that this ghost-face is JK. Otherwise it's just someone with bangs backhugging a giant pregnant lady wearing a night gown behind an open window on a breezy night.

About your mental gymnastic, in the listening party, fans were leaving comments asking "do you have a girlfriend?" And his answer was addressing that repetitive question, not the video. And don't give me this category of jikookers that percentage of jikookers thing. I don't care about anyone else's opinion, they can have their own, I have mine.

Don't you dare to compare that thing with Taennie. Taennie had 10 different HD photos leaked together and many obvious clues and hints proving the photos and the relationship was real, and even biggest and the most reliable media sources like Rolling Stone, BBC, Billboard, Dispatch, JTBC, etc wrote articles about them dating and being spotted together. JK didn't even wait for two days to react to that nonsense, but Tae was totally silent about it for almost two years. On the contrary, he started it all with following Jennie on IG, and then fueled it with more hints and wearing matching jewelry. Kmedia said they have been separated for months, so he could come up and say "I don't have a girlfriend" just like his dongsaeng but he didn't 🤷‍♀

Did you know Ricky Martin, George Michael, Freddie Mercury and many other queer singers for decades sang songs about having sex with women? Some was even their own lyrics while they were gay af lol. And you say Tae is gayer than JK because he didn't sing about having sex with women 😹

And how Jikook enlisting together has anything to do with this at all? Who said anything about homophobic country? Do guys deny having girlfriend in a homophobic country? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Did Jikook went to apply for buddy system and say "Sir, we are gay and in love, we can't stand being separated, please let us enlist together 😃🏳‍🌈" Nope.

The military of this homophobic country made this system available for close friends and relatives between the ages 18 and 28 to minimize the mental and physical traumas of mandatory service, and they are not going to ask them if they are having sex.

We always said Jikook can't live without each other, but it was people like you who come up with things like "they can't stand each other" "they only look close on cameras" "they don't care about each other" "they have different and separated lives" "they broke up" 🤡 Now that it is proved that Jikook is the closest and the most inseparable duo in BTS you are still brave on your shit? 💩

And since that video is your last straw I made this edit for you, I hope you like it 😻

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marimayscarlett · 8 months ago

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Another list of unrealistic wishes for the 2024 tour

Back at it again with the delusional takes and here to make it everyone elses problem - a very warm welcome to volume 2 of our wishes for the upcoming Rammstein tour ✨ This time again carefully put together by @wizzardclown @gothtoast and me, with additional wonderful influences by my dear @m---e---l. Thank you ladies 🤍

(Read our first list here and please consider checking out the great suggestions in the notes!)

Set list and concert organisation in general

first up, the question of the supporting act: -> either not happening in general, since none of us actually want to endure another round of the piano tinkling, so we though about this concept:

This way, we get an even longer concert with no distraction from the pure Rammstein sound.

-> or, another idea which came to mind: to celebrate the literary-genius Flake, he could give us a reading of one of his books before the concert, lighten up the mood and feeding the masses with entertaining facts. Additionally, Richard could play some piano in the background during it, for dramatic effect (like the piano accompaniment during silent movies back in the old days).

Opener for the concert this year: 'Haifisch'. Would be an amazing and appreciative nod towards the fans in regards to the support the band was shown last year.

'Zwitter': a banger to set the sexual ambiguous mood for the evening.

'Mein Land': Not sure if they every played this one live, but it would be a fitting song to get some summer vibes going.

for sunset rather fittingly 'Sonne'.

Off to the first proper segment, welcome to the 👻haunting hour👻: fitting for the upcoming night time, a creepy conglomerate consisting of: -> 'Wilder Wein' (I could write a whole chapter about this song, it's so captivating), followed by 'Spieluhr' -> 'Hilf mir': perfect for some new haunting stage show (maybe as a replacement for 'Puppe'; or to quote @wizzardclown: 'When in doubt, set Flake on fire') -> 'Heirate mich': preferably with some 'sliding on his knees/a rolling board'-Till -> to end this phase with a classic: 'Du riechst so gut' is an absolute MUST.

following: 'Rein Raus', some relaxing ASMR to lighten the mood.

Welcome to the next section: 🔥Some like it hot🔥, consisting of: -> 'Wollt ihr das Bett in Flammen sehen': camera focus has to be on Schneider. -> 'Asche zu Asche' with burning mics (!). -> 'Du hast' with its fire rockets (my favourite pyro in the whole concert) because no Rammstein concert can exist without this song, that's a physical law, and additionally Richard would be sad if he couldn't play it. -> 'Engel' preferably with the iconic wings (poor Till really has to go all in during this concert).

as a moment to take a breather: Mutter.

'Deutschland': a song we all wait for, with a huge meaning, just overall a perfect piece - yet no remix this time, since we need the time to slide right into the next phase of the concert:

💗questionable on-stage actions and homoerotica galore💗, consisting of: -> 'Mein Teil', with dilf dad-dance moves AND several guitarist kisses (what better moment than the dick eating song for it) -> 'Zick Zack' with at least some sort of elaborate costumes, -> 'Feuerräder', for the perfect vibe with Flake riding on Till's back, neon tube ready to knock seven bells out of his tormentor (justice for Flake), additionally maybe Oliver skating with his roller skates which emit flames in the background and more guitarist kisses

after this breathtaking segment, how about some 'Anna'-sing along! Scream the name of your fave on the top of your lungs and show your love for him 💘

finally some unrealistic (as if the whole list isn't a fever dream already) wishes : 'Eifersucht' and 'Fellfrosch'. To finally give Olli's sick bass lines the stage they deserve 😤

2. some more outfit ideas

long hair Schneider with his handband, because this was a look:

leg belts for Richard 🖤

and last but not least, this is a PSA: If Frau Schneider makes an appearance and decides to grace us with her presence, consider everything on this list to be obsolete. Seeing the mother again would be the greatest joy of all, we don't need anything more 🙇🏼‍♀️🙏🏼

#rammstein #rammstein tour 2024 #maybe i should turn this post in a pdf and send it to the r+ managment. maybe we'd have some luck with our improvement suggestions #this post was brought to you by Lesben für Rammstein e.V.#delusional take but ha. watch me i say anything on this site #what a weekend with david lynch lemonade too much pasta and wonderful company can bring

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separatist-apologist · 11 months ago

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A Lost Princess of Sunlight

Summary: Lady Elain has spent her life in the idyllic countryside wanting for nothing, so when her adopted sister Vassa begs her to accompany her to court, how can Elain say no? The roguish prince is in need of a wife and Elain, certain she'd make a terrible princess, has no interest in such theatrics.

But something about the palace brings back memories lost to the sea ten years before. Memories Elain had been certain she'd never get back…memories that speak of a colder place, and sisters long forgotten. Amid the tumultuous politics and the looming war, Elain finds herself embroiled in a mystery to find out who she really is.

And where she really comes from.

Note: HAPPY HOLIDAYS @writtenonreceipts! I hope you like this- I tried so hard to give it TOG vibes AND to incorporate nessian and feysand because you said you love them (and I in turn love you).

@acotargiftexchange

Major thanks to @velidewrites and @wilde-knight for the moodboard + beta-ing this fic when I was laying face down in a puddle of my own tears.

Read On AO3 | Chapter 1

In recent memory, Lucien couldn’t remember ever feeling fouler than he did that day, standing in the throne room between his parents to greet a personalized list of women his mother hoped might one day be her future daughter-in-law. Lucien had tried in the beginning, offering a smile as he kissed gloveless hands. He’d filed away names for later, trying to paste them against genuinely lovely faces.

He’d expected to meet five women—maybe ten. But this had been going on for hours and he’d lost count of how many women he’d been shown. Fifty? With more that had arrived that his mother deemed otherwise unacceptable and therefore weren’t worth his time or attention. They’d be looking for him, too. Lucien felt like a piece of meat dangled before a wild animal gnashing its teeth hungrily.

“Mother,” he said when the doors closed, catching his parents before they could beckon for another. “Surely this is too much. Please.”

“It’s good for you to meet your future court,” his father said, drumming long fingers against an ivory carved throne. Gold crowned both his fathers dark head of hair as well as the back of the chair, making it seem as if the King of the West radiated pure sunlight. His mother was a vision just beside, draped in a cream dress and a threaded crown of gold woven through her vivid auburn hair.

“Isn’t that what all the activities are for? I feel…” he couldn’t say it, couldn’t force those spoiled words from his lips. “I need some air.”

He could see their frustration etched over their features. Was this truly the life laid before him? Would he one day be sitting in his fathers chair beside a woman his mother arranged for him, their son between them? The thought made Lucien want to gag. He hadn’t asked to be a prince, after all and right then, resentment burned hotly through him.

“Take a breath, son—”

“I won’t,” Lucien interrupted, fingers curling to fists. It wasn’t the first time he and his father had disagreed, though it was the first time that his mother would witness it. “This is too much.”

“This is duty, Lucien. Or did you imagine it was all dress up and sword fighting with your friends? We are on the precipice of war and every man has converged on our home to demonstrate their loyalty to our family. You repay them poorly by scowling and acting like a tantruming child,” his father cautioned, gold eyes narrowed in warning.

“They’re delusional if they think I’ll marry one of their daughters and elevate them far above their stations!” Lucien snapped, stepping from the dais to the swirling gold and gray patterned floor. “There are simply too many women and not enough time—”

“You will choose one of them,” his father said again, harsher this time.

“Let’s not fight,” his mother interjected quickly, also rising to her feet. Biting her bottom lip, those russet eyes were swimming with apprehension. “Surely there is a compromise to be found.”

“Amera,” Helion chided, his tone softer than before.

“If you want to pick a wife, I won’t stop you. Any available woman in this city can be yours…so long as you choose one before the end of the summer.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will choose for you, based on your mothers recommendations,” his father snapped impatiently, crossing one powerful leg over the other. “There will be no more scheming or whoring, Lucien.”

“I know you were hurt when Lady Jes—”

“Don’t,” Lucien whispered, unable to hear his mother speak her name. “Please, mother. My heart can’t bear it.”

“There will be another, my sweet boy,” his mother murmured, reaching up to cup his face in her soft hands. Lucien pulled himself from her grasp, heart thudding in his chest. He hadn’t dared to ask if she was coming, too. He didn’t want to see proof that she could be happy with someone else. That she’d made the right choice in leaving and she’d been right—they didn’t belong together. “Any woman?”

His father pinched the bridge of his nose, recognizing Lucien’s intent but his mother was sincere. “So long as she is of southern birth, yes. Any woman.”

“Fine. I will bring you a daughter to dote on by the end of the summer if you free me from the obligation of choosing one specifically from your list.”

“You better take this seriously, Lucien,” his father warned, leaning forward to look at his only son. “Or it will be me who chooses.”

Lucien had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. His father would do whatever his mother told him to, and his mother would look out for Lucien’s happiness as best as she could. It wouldn’t be love, but it would be tolerable.

How delicious, he thought, to pick some commoner from the city. A woman who knew how to clean her own laundry, something Lucien had never been tasked to do. With the added bonus of keeping him out of the palace and the madhouse of his mothers machinations.

“I accept this arrangement. I won’t let you down,” he added to his mother, guilt pricking at his conscience. His father understood this was malicious compliance based on the hard set of his mouth but his mother’s eyes were shining with hope and Lucien so hated to disappoint her.

Perhaps his father was banking on his sons better nature because he waved him off. “Go get your air. I expect you at dinner tonight. Sober,” he added, guessing Lucien’s plans.

Lucien exhaled a breath, slipping down a corridor and away from the madness that had befallen the palace. Jurian wasn’t hard to find, leaned against a pillar, arms crossed over his chest as he stared out toward the gardens.

“Washed hair?” Lucien began teasing his friend with a bump to the shoulder, “That must mean Lady Vassa has arrived.”

“She has,” he admitted, dark eyes nodding toward a mass of bouncy copper hair half hidden amongst the foliage. She was with a friend, back turned so Lucien only saw the long, thick tumble of loose golden brown curls and a lavender dress clinging to a slight frame. “Playing her favorite game, of course.”

“The one where she pretends you don’t exist? Has it occurred to you that perhaps she doesn’t like you?” Lucien asked, poking Jurian in his bare arm. “Maybe it’s time to move on.”

“That would show her, wouldn’t it?” Jurian muttered.

“Here,” Lucien said, stepping from the veranda onto the stone laid path that wound through his mothers rather impressive garden. “I’ll say hello for us both. You can stand beside me silently brooding. I’m certain that will win her affection.”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?”

Lucien only grinned, swaggering as he made his way toward the pair of giggling women. There was no possibility either of them didn’t know Jurian was approaching, though Vassa was the first to look at Lucien. Beautiful as always, with her full mouth, her pert nose, and those big, cerulean eyes brimming with mischief. He liked her, if only because she was so unafraid and unimpressed by him. Lucien imagined if he asked Vassa what she thought of him, she’d tell him frankly and without an ounce of flattery.

Lucien opened his mouth to tell her she was looking lovely. “You look…” The words died on his lips as her friend turned at last, looking up at him with the biggest set of brown eyes he’d ever seen in his life. The tumble of her hair, the slope of her neck, the way her mouth was shaped…Lucien’s palms began to sweat.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. How had he never met her before? Who was she?

“Stunning? Perfect? Like the woman of your dreams?” Vassa’s voice cut through the buzzing in Lucien’s ears. He couldn’t take his eyes off her friend long enough to even respond to Vassa. Instead, he found himself sweeping into a deep bow, all the while holding her gaze.

Her cheeks flushed but when she tried to curtsey back, Lucien was quick to catch her hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles. She smelled like jasmine and honey. She looked like a daydream. Perhaps the heat had finally gotten to him and this was an angel coming to usher him into the afterlife.

“This is my sister,” Vassa told Lucien, her amusement burning. Beside him, Jurian coughed pointedly, a mere blur to Lucien. “Elain.”

“Elain,” Lucien replied before Vassa’s words settled. “Since when do you have a sister?”

“Since always,” Vassa retorted, arms crossed over her verdant dress. “Sorry you’re so unobservant you never noticed.”

“I would remember you,” Lucien insisted, memorizing the shape of her face. “Where have you been hiding?”

Cheeks flaming, Elain’s eyes slid to her feet. “I ah…”

“She doesn’t come to court precisely for this reason, my lord,” Vassa interrupted, unaware Lucien was moments from throttling her. “Vultures, the lot of you. Men are so obsessed with finding wives they can’t allow a lady even a moment of peace in the garden.”

Jurian barked out a laugh, causing Elain to jump back just a little. “I prefer the quiet of the countryside,” she said, her voice somehow more beautiful than her face. Lucien wanted to bathe in it, wanted to close his eyes and listen to her speak. And it was becoming increasingly clear she did not want to be anywhere near him based on the way she looked as though she might bolt at any second.

“I’m glad you made it,” he said, releasing her hand with great reluctance. “That both of you made it.”

“Oh, I’m certain you’re so delighted to see me,” Vassa chided playfully, thrusting out her own hand so Lucien could give her a similar kiss. He did, grinning like an idiot while watching her companion from the corner of his eye. Let her see he wasn’t a threat—that he was charming, and funny too when he wasn’t struck dumb.

“If you knew the day I’d had, you’d know just how grateful and relieved I am to see you.”

“Do you need me to check your ego, prince? You’re not that handsome, you know.”

Lucien tipped his head back to laugh, genuinely delighted for the first time all day. He needed to hear that and perhaps wanted Elain to see that he could laugh at his own expense. He was a prince, sure, but also the kind of man she could tease a little.

But when he looked back, Elain was still watching with a carefully guarded expression.

“And how have you been, Captain?” Vassa asked, finally turning to look at Jurian.

“I count the minutes you’re away,” Jurian replied dryly. Lucien swore Vassa’s cheeks flushed and a touch of shyness slid over her features. Just for a moment. Just long enough for Jurian to catch too. Her father would never allow this match—Lucien knew for a fact Lord Koshington was looking for someone for his daughter. Perhaps them both. Lucien could ask for either woman if he wanted but Jurian would never be able to convince a lord of Koschington’s merit for the hand of his only daughter and heir. Whatever man Vassa married would be entrusted with the estate and Jurian, for all his accomplishments, was simply not the sort of man Koschington envisioned for her.

Lucien suspected Vassa would do her duty and marry as she was told to while carrying on an affair with Jurian as so many other ladies at court did. That was an open secret no one did much about so long as there were no disputes over it. Occasionally some errant husband would become enraged and kill another noble, giving them all something to gossip over while Lucien’s father dealt with the headache.

If Vassa asked him, though, he could have interceded on her behalf. Perhaps he could make Jurian nobility if he went to his father shamefaced and apologetic and agreed to be a better son. Lucien’s gaze cut to Elain. She was a lady, wasn’t she? Southern born, which was the only true criteria his mother had laid down. Perhaps, he reasoned, he could use his marriage as a bargaining chip for both Vassa and Jurian.

He’d elevate one daughter to a princess and in exchange, Koschington would allow the other to marry his Captain, now Lord of some tract of land further north. Of course, that all hinged on Lady Elain even wanting him and as they stood now, things looked bleak for Lucien. Not to mention if he had such a visceral reaction to this woman, perhaps he would to others that were more agreeable.

Still. It was a thought he wasn’t willing to wholly discard. Not yet.

“I’m sure you two are incredibly busy,” Vassa said, still looking at Jurian. “We should—”

“Will you be at dinner tonight?” Lucien blurted out, once again looking—and speaking—to Elain. Her eyes widened, glancing over at Vassa to answer for her.

“Only if you promise us a good table.”

“Consider it done,” Lucien said, sweeping into another bow. It was an instinct that told him when true danger was approaching. Some call in his blood, a pull that turned his usual heat to ice.

Eris was near.

He could feel the prickling on the back of his neck, the awareness that he was being watched much the way prey must feel when a predator was near. He didn’t want to be caught here by Eris—didn’t want this showdown to happen in front of a woman he might want to court.

“Until this evening, then.”

Vassa merely waved him off, looping her arm through Elain’s to guide them further into the foliage while he and Jurian watched, both enamored. Just until the rounded a corner and Lucien could shake off whatever spell Elain had unwittingly cast.

It was like a bucket of cold water poured over his head.

“Eris is near,” he said, his voice slipping into a growl. Jurian cast one last love-lorn look in Vassa’s direction before setting his jaw.

“Well. Let’s give him a southern welcome.”

Lucien grinned. “After you.”

The moment Elain and Vassa were out of earshot, Vassa immediately burst into laughter.

“Stop it,” Elain chided, bewildered and a little embarrassed. The prince—the actual prince—had been gaping at her like he’d never seen a woman in his life. Elain hadn’t expected to meet him so close. He was handsome, just as Vassa had promised, though she’d undersold how attractive he was. Even with the trio of brutal scars raking down one of his russet colored eyes, gouged so deep into his cheeks they still seemed fresh, Lucien was easily the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Beautiful in a dangerous sort of way.

Beautiful and he knew it, had been told so his entire life. Something about that annoyed her. She didn’t want to be another fawning woman, delighted he’d paid her a moment of interest.

Exhaling, Elain rounded on her friend. “You couldn’t say one nice thing to Jurian?”

“No,” Vassa replied quickly, some of her amusement fading. “I wouldn’t know how.”

“He’s handsome.”

“As handsome as the prince—”

“That’s enough,” Elain interrupted primly. “The prince is not hurting for beautiful company. I doubt he will be thinking of me come this time next week.”

“And if he is?”

“Then I shall disabuse him of the notion,” Elain replied, biting her bottom lip. “I have no interest in being an amusement and later discarded when he grows tired of whatever country charm he imagines I possess.”

“Oh, but how fun to watch him run himself ragged for your affection. You’re better off just letting him trail after you for a few days—the longer you resist, the more he will imagine you as his great love.”

“You’ve read too many novels,” Elain complained, reaching for a pretty pink rose. The petals were satin against her fingers, the scent of it sweeter than she remembered. Perhaps there was magic in Rhodes that didn’t exist in the country.

Or perhaps she, too, had let romantic notions cloud her senses.

“Maybe. If I…” biting her bottom lip, Vassa faced Elain fully. “If I told you something, would you swear yourself to secrecy no matter what you heard? No matter how much trouble it would cause for you?”

“Of course,” Elain swore, standing upright again. “Anything you need, consider it done.”

“Father is never going to let me leave the city unmarried. He hopes, distantly, the prince might finally show some interest in me beyond friendship but realistically he intends to shop me around to other lords who are suitable enough. I’m being allowed a small taste of freedom but by the time the summer wanes, he’ll have me married and he’ll be looking at you, too.

“It will take time and he’ll need the kings blessing. As long as the Sun King is preoccupied with his son, he’ll move slowly on everyone else. If I had a mother, perhaps she might appeal to the queen… and I need to take advantage of it.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

Vassa shot Elain a confident smile that didn’t meet her eyes. She was scared. “It is my hope that Jurian will make an offer of marriage. And if he does…I intend to accept. To marry him in secret and ruin myself before father ever learns. There is nothing you can do to help me, nor could you stop me. I just…wanted you to know that I brought you here because I wanted us to have one last summer together. And perhaps I was hoping you might find someone and I wouldn’t have to feel so guilty leaving you behind.”

Elain flung her arms around Vassa, burying her face in her friend's neck. “Don’t worry a jot about me. I’ll be fine. And your secret is safe with me—if anyone asks if I knew, I’ll lie so convincingly it’ll make the gods weep.”

Vassa hugged her back, exhaling a warm breath against the skin of Elain’s newly exposed neck. “I knew I could count on you. Let's speak no more about it—Jurian hasn’t asked and maybe he won’t. For now, let's discuss what we’ll wear to dinner tonight. Something that will ruin Prince Lucien’s evening.”

“You’re a menace. Do you know that?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon giggling through the garden, all talk of Jurian and Lucien banished from conversation. In truth, Elain forgot about the prince entirely by the time she reached their shared chamber to wash away the sweat of the day and to change. The clothes she’d brought with her had been neatly hung in a nearby closet along with a row of new gowns likely purchased on her behalf by some harried servant. Elain laid a few out on the bed before deciding it was far worse to be the only person out of fashion in a room filled with worldly ladies than it was to worry so much about modesty.

Besides, the gowns hid everything—they merely lacked so many of the stiff layers she was accustomed to. Elain wouldn’t pretend she didn’t like the ability to button herself rather than needing two servants to help get her into her layers and tie everything up, even if she did feel a tad exposed in the silken jade gown she found herself in. Wishing she’d paid more attention to how everyone else was dressed, Elain elected to leave half her hair down with pins in her little wristlet, just in case she had to quickly pull it up.

Vassa was waiting in the wide, marble lain halls in a gown of violet that looked utterly stunning against the golden brown of her skin. If Elain was terribly out of fashion, her friend surely would have said something, but instead she looped her arm through Elains and began walking her through the palace.

Vassa had been before enough times to know the layout, allowing the pair to dawdle as Vassa pointed out paintings she thought Elain would enjoy and or explained what marble bust belonged to what long-dead king. There was something deeply thrilling about seeing the history of her home up close and personal—something that made her feel strangely proud to live there.

A feeling that slid into anxiety the moment she and Vassa walked into the grand hall. Reproposed for a banquet, at least a hundred little tables dotted the expansive room, all facing the long, high table where the royal family would sit. The king was already there, a golden goblet dangling between his fingers as he surveyed guests pouring in.

Was it her imagination, or was he looking at her? Definitely her imagination, Elain decided. She wasn’t nobility, and Vassa’s family was minor nobility at that. Still…those golden eyes, set against warm, dark brown skin, seemed to stare right through her, seeing everything she was and everything she had ever been.

Someone she didn’t recognize approached the king, drawing his attention—which had never been on her—far, far away.

“We’re probably back here,” Vassa murmured, clasping Elain’s between her own. “If we get seated quickly, we can eat before anyone else.”

“I am starving,” Elain admitted with a breathless laugh. The entire thing was exhilarating, so decadent that Elain felt utterly alone in that room as she drank in the gilded walls, the high, arching ceilings and the glass windows that rose up to meet them. Beyond them, Elain could see the placid sea, brighter than any blue diamond and clearer than any sky.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Prince Lucien appeared from seemingly nowhere, eyes bright. He looked…well. He was absurd in his beauty, so lovely in his gold trimmed blue jacket that

Elain’s teeth were set on edge. He’d braided the top half of his head, pulling it back with a leather strap that somehow made his cheekbones seem sharper, his jaw more defined. The rest of his hair curled loosely about his shoulders, longer than Vassa’s when her friend wore it unbound, though not half as curly.

He was looking at her again and Vassa knew it.

“You’re much more accommodating this time than you were the last time I was here.”

“Give it time,” Lucien replied with genuine amusement. “When father begins one of his terrible speeches it will be nice to have someone nearby to rescue me.”

“You tease me,” Elain complained. As if she could rescue a prince from his wordy father.

Lucien placed a large, ringed hand against his heart. “Lady Elain, I would never.”

Elain doubted that given the twinkle in his russet eyes. Still, though, it was kind of nice to be the object of his interest, however short-lived she suspected it would be. Warmth flooded through Elain’s face, impossible to hide given how fair her skin was.

Lucien’s smile was laced with pleasure. “This way, ladies.”

Vassa merely rolled her eyes, bouncy curls blowing in a nearby breeze. Elain kept her eyes down, well aware everyone in the vicinity was looking at her. Oh, how she wished they weren’t—not like this, at any rate. It wasn’t that she hated being the subject of their attention, but she would have preferred it be because she was stunning in some new dress and not because the prince’s fingers were grazing her elbow.

The table wasn’t just close—it was the first one before the high table—a seat reserved for people far more important than Elain and Vassa. They weren’t alone—Lord Koschington was already there flanked on either side by men at least a decade older than him. All three rose from their seats to bow to the prince before returning to their conversation, leaving Elain and Vassa awkwardly staring Lucien down.

“Well,” Elain finally said when she couldn’t stand it a moment later. “This was generous of you.”

“You’ll find I can be very generous, Lady Elain.”

“Just Elain is fine,” she promised, embarrassed all over again.

“Well, just Elain, my generosity comes with strings, if that helps to put your mind at ease.”

“Oh? What strings are those?”

“Lunch with me? And if it goes well, a turn around the garden.”

Elain nearly said no. The urge was automatic. Something stopped her—the notion that if Lucien spent a few hours alone with her, he’d realize how woefully plain she was, how inept her social graces in comparison to other women. His interest would wane and she wouldn’t have to be firm with him at all. That was, truthfully, a best case scenario.

So Elain nodded, lowering her eyes demurely. “That would be lovely.” Lucien’s delight radiated like pure light just beneath his skin. “You’ve given me something to look forward to.” And then he was gone, leaving Lord Koschington watching with curiosity and Ealin even more embarrassed than before.

“I’m not surprised he likes you,” Vassa began, but Elain wasn’t having it.

“Sit down,” she demanded.

Vassa only laughed. “Bossy. You’ll make an excellent princess.”

Rhodes.

Curling his upper lip, Eris glanced at the dirty streets beneath his gleaming boots. How he loathed the Southern Empire. The city itself was too self-satisfied with itself, certain they were the gods favored people. A blessed empire, having risen from the ashes of centuries of subjugation by the north. The scars for the people weren’t healed—it had been King Helion’s grandfather who’d shaken those chains and thirty years of bloody fighting just to establish a true home with recognized borders. Recognized, Eris thought bitterly, by his father and the late King of the Spine.

Helion had ended that conflict, invading the north's once impenetrable capitol and genuinely terrifying the realm with the might of his military. If he could break down those walls and get inside, he could potentially cross the spine to the east or the desert to the west. He could have the whole of the continent if he wanted it.

Of course, Helion’s reign hadn’t come without its scandals. His victory cost a princess her life and Archeron his wife. It had also cost the west their queen when he’d stolen her away in the dead of night, declared her marriage to Beron Vanserra completed under duress, and married her himself.

North and west had a reason to hate the south. Eris had never forgiven Helion for losing his mother and Nesta Archeron, heir apparent to the Northern throne, had never forgiven Helion for the loss of her mother and her younger sister. Eris had heard rumors of her fury.

But meeting her was another thing entirely. He’d made her no promises, of course…but he knew she was thinking the same thing he was—if they married, they could unite their kingdoms and turn their eyes to the south. They could eradicate Helion and take it, too, if they wished. And oh, how Eris wished.

The prospect of asking for Nesta Archeron was the only reason he’d accepted the invitation to the south. Might as well look around for himself. Helion would be looking for peace and his mother absolution, but Eris was looking for exploitable weaknesses.

Something he could offer up to Nesta Archeron so she had no recourse but to tell him yes. It wouldn’t be love, but Eris didn’t require that. Didn’t want that. His would be a marriage of political convenience and if he needed genuine companionship, he could always take a mistress.

So there he stood, soaked in sweat and angrier than he’d ever been as he stared up at the monstrosity that was the palace. His half brother was being fussed over—a golden prince Eris would keep alive as a political prisoner in his court, forcing Lucien to do his bidding with the threat of a sword hanging over his head.

It was Eris’s favorite daydream. The destruction of Helion’s court, the ruination of his empire, and his son and wife forced to live in Eris’s home under Eris’s rule. Despite himself, he smiled, ignoring the butler who wanted to give him a tour as he strode into the palace. He knew it well enough and didn’t want the royal family to know where he was until he was ready to make a grand entrance.

Helion’s kingdom was said to house an impressive collection of knowledge and the rarest (and items stolen he didn’t want found) were housed within his personal collection within his palace. Eris had never been interested before, annoyed by the philosophers and scholars that inhabited these spaces. Old men obsessed with the sound of their own voices who had never been told their ideas weren’t interesting.

But today was pure chaos and if the Sun Palace was anything like his home, everyone would be congregated wherever the wine was, neglecting their responsibilities under the deluded belief no one would find out. Eris took the stairs two at a time, eyes darting around him to be sure no one was watching.

Though if they were—and if he was caught—he’d simply feign ignorance. No one stopped him, allowing him to climb higher and higher, walking down halls with his hands jammed in the pockets of his cream colored pants. He opened bedroom doors like they belonged to him, ran his oily fingers over windows and paintings, and kicked over a potted plant just because it amused him to do so.

And when he reached the room he’d come all this way to see—Helion’s famed library—Eris found it delightfully abandoned, just as he’d expected it to be. There were three more towering floors, attached to what he supposed was the highest tower of the palace. Spiraling stairs led to rows and rows of books unreachable even by the rather tall ladders. Desks and chairs on the first level were, he supposed, for scholarly pursuits that seemed to vanish once one reached that second level.

The third was entirely off limits to anyone but Helion’s most trusted. And they were gone, Eris thought, stepping through the arch way. The room itself could be hidden behind wooden ivory double doors carved with some brightly painted fresco of a heroic battle long faded from memory.

Eris made it two steps before a woman materialized from a too-bright golden sunbeam pouring into the room. One moment he’d been walking toward items hidden from everyone else in the realm and the next a curved blade was pressed against his neck and his back was slammed against a wall. A slim knee slid between his legs, pressed threateningly against his manhood while a pair of vivid green eyes stared him down cooly.

“I’ll need to see your pass before you take another step,” she said. Eris blinked, taking in the shape of this woman. Thick waves of blonde hair cascaded down her back, tumbling against her shoulders and framing what was, objectively, a beautiful face. Her bronzed skin seemed to shimmer in the light as though dusted in sunlgiht and those eyes of hers—green and flecked with gold—were lightly lined in black kohl.

“I don’t need a pass—” he began, utilizing the haughtiest voice he could muster given the position he found himself in. In any other circumstances, overpowering her would have been a simple thing.

But Eris wasn’t willing to risk his throat, nevermind his cock and balls.

“You do,” she replied, both her knee and her blade pressing just a little rougher.

“Don’t you know who I am?” he demanded.

“Why don’t you tell me?” she challenged, one eyebrow raised as though it wouldn’t matter. He was going to see her personally punished for this, he decided.

“Prince Eris—”

“Oh, a prince,” she interrupted, her voice dripping with disdain. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Do you have a pass?”

Eris was rarely speechless. But right then, looking down at a woman that was primed to kill him over a book, Eris found himself at a loss for words.

“No,” he spat, outraged that some nobody was preventing him from snooping. And no one, in his life, had ever dared such defiance. This woman did, though. She didn’t care he was a prince or the queens eldest son. She merely saw an intruder and felt empowered to spill his blood against her feet if need be.

“I’m glad we agree. If I remove my knife from your throat, are you going to leave peacefully?” she asked, her tone dripping with condescension. Had they been home, Eris could have thrown her in a cell for that hateful look on her face alone, not mentioning the way in which she addressed him.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Eris promised, his lip curling with disdain. To her credit, the woman stepped back, removing herself entirely from his body, though that knife remained between them. “I’ll see you punished for this.”

She smiled, smoothing one hand over the yellow of her dress. “Of course, your majesty.”

“You think I won’t?” Eris hissed, unsure why he hadn’t stormed out. Just leave. Fuck the last word.

“Oh, I’m certain you will,” was her reply, eyes burning with amusement. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and the king will allow me the privilege of hearing your explanation as to why a future foreign king was skulking about a room filled with state secrets. Surely you must have known, but maybe they educated you poorly back home and you can’t read?”

Bitch.

“I can be wherever I like—”

“Wrong, majesty. You know, we hear rumors about you here. Of your…ambitions. I’m sure your impending marriage to a northern princess is mere gossip hardly worth the rags it's printed on, of course, and this little trip was merely an accident.”

Eris’s lips parted, an insult on the tip of his tongue. Who was this woman? Eris wanted her family name more than he’d ever wanted anything, if only so he could burn it from the face of the world. When he came marching into Rhodes with an army, she could be the first person to meet his sword.

“Some people would think it was unwise, insulting a future king.”

Her eyes flicked to the knife in her hand. “I think some people might thank me for protecting my home. In fact, I think a parade might be held in my honor if you took another step toward me and fell on my knife.”

“Is that a threat?” he demanded.

She smiled. “I’m glad you noticed. I was starting to think these subtleties were flying right over your poor, illiterate head. Yes, your lordship. This is a threat. A wiser man would recognize he’d been caught and leave, but I can see you’re not wise and so perhaps I ought to spell it in simple terms you’ll understand: your mere presence in this room could be considered an act of war. Remove yourself, or I shall do it for you.”

Fuck her.

“This isn’t over.”

She followed behind as he turned on his heel, burning with an anger so hot it would have manifested as flame against his skin had he any magical ability. Eris could feel its heat shimmering off him, fingers curling and uncurling with the urge to teach her a lesson she’d never forget. She was no one, some lowly peasant made to feel important and elevated by a bastard king.

Eris expected one last quip—turned around to face her. She flashed him a smile, those eyes still sparkling with amusement.

And then slammed the double doors in his face. On the other end, he swore he heard soft laughter though maybe he imagined it. Eris exhaled, overwhelmed and frustrated and furious all at once.

It wasn’t over between them.

Eris would have the last laugh.

Ellesmere was easily the worst city Cassian had ever visited in his life. Velaris was the best, of course, and Rhodes was nice if a little hot for his taste. He’d seen Allfeld once which personally was enough given how much pollen seemed to be in the air, though it had been autumn at the time and he’d quite liked the glittering jewel-top trees that dotted the sloping hillsides.

Ellesmere had no charm whatsoever. Only fog and a constant misting of rain that left Cassian damp beneath the leathered armor he wore.

He’d put on wool socks to keep his feet dry that day, tucked into boots that were supposed to be waterproof and hoped for the best. Rhys was supposed to be out charming the nobles and who the fuck knew where Azriel had gone. By the time Cassian dragged his ass out of bed, Azriel was nowhere to be found and Rhys was agonizing over a lock of hair that wouldn’t lay just right.

Cassian was grateful no one expected perfection out of him. He’d shaved his face—though the dark stubble would be back before noon—and pulled the thick, dark waves that cascaded to his shoulders into a half messy bun. Good enough.

Dumb brute, remember?

As if he could ever forget. At home, Cassian was a hero. People cared about the words that came out of his mouth, respected him as someone of great intelligence. But out here, he knew what they saw. The other kingdoms must employ idiots to lead their armies, or something particular about Cassian gave off the impression he liked the taste of blood. And Cassian had never once tried to correct that notion given he did like a little blood smeared across his mouth.

But it irked him at times, chafing against him like rough material against soft skin.

He had a job—only one, at least, while he was trapped in this gloomy hellscape, which was to get a sense and scope of the military power Ellesmere commanded. How did they fight, how many of them remained, their tactics, their training. Anything Cassian could weaponize against them. Cassian needed them to believe he was one of them.

Less than, even. That he couldn’t take even a day off from swinging his swords when truthfully, were he back home, Cassian would have been parked at Ritas waiting for a massive plate of eggs and bacon. Ah, well. There would be more of that later, though he couldn’t help but feel like he was wasting the best weather Velaris had to offer to the rain.

And breakfast wasn’t horrible, at least. He’d been allowed to eat alone given there was no expectation he would eat with the royals. Cassian picked through one of his books, wasting time hoping the weather would clear and the sun would come out, even if it didn’t warm the air. When it became clear he wasn’t going to get his wish, Cassian sighed, armed himself, and made his way toward the training yard housed within the palace walls. He’d seen barracks on his way in, tucked off in the distance, when he’d first come into the city. That was where Cassian really wanted to be.

If Rhys did his job well, Cassian would be invited to watch them train and possibly train alongside him. It was ego the way so many cities assumed they had something to teach him. There was a reason Velaris hadn’t been invaded, though Cassian knew everyone loved to chalk it up to The Spine. The mountains were passable, their coast relatively undefended. There was little need, though they did have a Navy.

Cassian was always waiting, sword in hand.

Today, though, was just about seeing the best of the best. They’d be looking to impress him, knowing full well Cassian would tell Rhys. All in good time. Cassian liked to think he was clever enough to keep his mouth shut with a face that always seemed pleased right up until his sword was pressed against someones throat.

They expected that from Azriel. Maybe they expected that knife in the back from Rhys. But despite his titles, no one ever expected that from Cassian, though he was always the quickest to jump to bloodshed.

Eloquence was Rhys’s domain.

Cassian shuddered when he stepped outside, shaking out his hands to try and keep himself together. This period of time in his life would pass until he forgot it entirely. There was no way in hell he’d ever agree to return here and was grateful Rhys wasn’t actually interested in any of the princesses on offer.

Cassian wished he could say the same. He’d half forgotten Nesta Archeron—could have forgotten her completely for the majority of the day, even—had she not been walking toward him in a well-fitted violet coat dress, the hood pulled over her face and lined with immaculate white fur.

Her fair cheeks were flushed from the chill or exertion, making those silvery eyes of her brighter by comparison. The scowl on her face couldn’t diminish the beauty that radiated from her and just like it had the day before, Cassian felt struck by her. Nesta’s whole person was its own blade at his throat, threatening to spill him open at any moment.

She halted when she saw him, hands jammed into her pockets. Eyes narrowed with suspicion, he wondered if she’d speak to him. It was only after a moment of staring that Cassian remembered he probably ought to bow. That felt strange—Rhys had never required that and Helion was so casual it was cause for teasing if Cassian were to try. Something about Nesta demanded it, though, and so Cassian felt himself bending at the waist, one hand on his stomach.

“You mock me?” she asked, unaware of the sincerity of his pounding heartbeat.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cassian heard himself say, his every word laced with amusement rather than the reverence he felt. And though he was so much taller than her, Cassian felt small as Nesta approached, her spine ramrod straight. He wished he could convince her to come to Velaris and teach his soldiers that sort of posture.

Hell, maybe she could teach him, too.

“Where are you going?”

Straight to hell, he thought privately as he tried not to imagine what she was like when she liked a man. Jealousy gnawed at him knowing Rhys was here to court her, swallowed quickly before Cassian was consumed. Glancing at one of the hilts peeking over his shoulder, Cassian offered her another quick smile. “To train with your guards.”

She scoffed. “I should think one sword would be more than sufficient.”

“Oh? Something you want to tell me, princess?”

He hadn’t meant for his words to sound suggestive. Cassian was genuinely asking her—were they not capable of fighting off a warrior holding a weapon in each hand? But something about her made everything he said sultry and Nesta’s cheeks burned with heat.

She was sweet. Cassian wanted to taste her.

“Just…they’re more…” Nesta was flustered. He knew if he came any closer she’d take off like a skittish baby deer, fortifying herself for their next interaction. Put her at ease, a voice whispered in his head—it sounded suspiciously like Mor. So Cassian relaxed his posture, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He was, afterall, just a man.

And he wasn’t a threat to her. Everyone else, perhaps—and one day she’d hate him for the part he was playing to keep her father from starting another war—but not her.

“They’re mostly decorative,” Nesta finally said, coming back to her senses. “And I suspect you are the opposite.”

“Shrewd of you,” Cassian praised, taking in this information. “I would think the palace guards were the best your kingdom had to offer.”

She rolled her eyes. “If that were true, Feyre would be easier contained within its walls.”

Cassian filed that away, too. Where did the little princess run off to, he wondered? And why was Nesta telling him this? She didn’t strike him as the uncareful type. No, Nesta was giving him little crumbs he was certain were leading somewhere. The expression on her face was too well guarded for anything else.

“And you?” he guessed.

Nesta only shrugged. “Where would I go beyond the palace walls, General?”

Cassian’s body went tight all at once. Fuck, but that voice… “Anywhere you like, I hope. Unless this is a cry for help and you’ve actually been held hostage?”

The faintest whisper of a smile spread over her features. Pretty thing. Cassian wanted to touch her and thought that was the quickest way to lose a hand.

“My life is one of endless wonder,” she assured him, her voice dry and laced with sarcasm. “I am incandescently happy.”

“My apologies, my lady,” Cassian murmured, needing to get some air before he did something monumentally stupid. “Far be it from to cast aspersions on you and your life. But…if you find yourself wishing you knew how to wield a blade so you could…I don’t know…move more effectively in the world…you know where to find me.”

And then he kept walking, refusing to touch her as he passed though it was hell not to even brush a wisp of hair from her cheek.

“Why would you do that?” Nesta asked when they were shoulder to shoulder, staring straight ahead. Cassian watched her from the corner of his eye.

“You’ll need to know if you’re going to marry Rhys,” he replied, the words ash on his tongue. Nesta didn’t move.

“That’s it?”

“Maybe I want a reason to see you again.”

Her breath curled around her face like a shadow, vanishing in the gloomy morning light. “I’ll think about it.”

There was nothing Cassian could say that wouldn’t make him sound insane. So he nodded, clenching his jaw to keep his words leashed before he took off walking again. There was no reason to arm that woman—and every possibility she would take everything she learned and turn around and use it against them.

And yet the thought of Nesta pressing a blade against his throat was so erotic that Cassian had to lap around the garden twice before making his way to the training yard, later than he’d meant to be.

And still—it was worth it.

#elucien #nessian #eris being the worst #all the usual shenanigans #tragically as i wrap up chapter 5 i think i need 5 more chapters #I will keep clackity clacking away

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abyss-king444 · 24 days ago

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hey so ive been asking around and just wanted more opinions and such

so ive been getting a lot of deity alters/working/worshipping deities videos on tiktok (i know the algorithm does its thing but like, ive never shown interest in it on tiktok?) these past few days which has never happened before. I looked up paganism ONCE two years back and at most saw five videos on youtube. ive especially been getting ones for Apollo and Aphrodite. I saw in a video like not too long ago i saw that a sign from Aphrodite is birds, and theres birds have been non stop chirping.

I want to know if im just being delusional? and I want to know if i am being reached out too, how to being or even how to just ask for more signs

Thanks for reading this essay, ofc dont reply if you dont want too!

Hi friend, so honestly I was in the same boat you are in. I thought I was being delusional when I sunk hours of research into looking up every myth I could remember Athena being in. Honestly, my best piece of advice is to just do it. Throw anything at the wall and hope to the gods themselves it sticks. That's what I did anyways. You're gonna make mistakes. You're gonna look kinda stupid doing it. And you're gonna not know if its legit or not. At the end of the day you have nothing to lose and I'm sure both Lady Aphrodite and Lord Apollo would appreciate it. Also, the gods don't have to reach out to you for you to begin worshipping/working with them. Athena didn't reach out to me, but she was the deity I began my practice with. I just gave her an offering one day and a quick prayer and she seemed to appreciate it. In short, try it out if you really want to. Not every sign with be clear and there might not be any signs at all. Just do it. Sorry if this wasn't as helpful as you wanted it to be.

#hellenic pagan #hellenic polytheism #hellenic deities #hermes deity #hermes devotee #hellenic worship #athena devotee #athena deity #hellenic gods

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ladywisteriatarot · 1 month ago

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Hi dear Wisteria, hope you're doing good :3

I heard some people said that the potential fs of JK changed so could it be due to the inaccuracy of people doing many readings on them?

Dearest Reader,

(beware, this is my own personal opinion, other experienced readers can have different thoughts and you can ask them for advice on this topic as well)

yes, actually. no hate to other readers but in my personal opinion, ever since ive done these readings, its been the same person, or at least every time i connect to the future spouse. (1) things change constantly based on the energy, what could be true in the first hour could change and be incorrect in the next hour. which is why its important to revisit the same questions, but not too often, do it every several months (like 5-6). (2) it could also be based on the reader, if they didn't fully disconnect from their earthly selves while channeling in the energy, they tend to mix the results with imagination. (3) also could be the spirit, spirit may say inaccurate things in order to protect the person being read on, either if the information is too too personal and shouldn't be shared or (4) if the reader isn't worthy enough to have that kind of information (ex. a delusional reader who is constantly obsessed with the person). so if this type of reader tried to keep on pushing the spirit, inaccuracy would come into play. there could be more reasons as to why inaccuracies could happen but nothing else is coming to mind as of right now.

you could take this advice with general readings done on other people, its not just with jk and his fs.

thanks for reading, much love,

lady wisteria

#jungkook tarot #bts tarot #kpop tarot

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kindnessisweakness2 · 2 years ago

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Delusional - Part 18

After a week of planning, the day of the fundraiser for the local high schools new music block finally arrived. As usual Delaney was running around like a headless chicken trying to get everything on Gemma’s list. Jax, Clay, Opie and Tig were picking up the last shipment of guns and storing them in the warehouse Juice found them out on the border of the Wahiwah. And the rest of the members were helping Gemma set up the stalls. Everyone had been so busy trying to sort out the new arrival of this ATF bitch and the problems she brought with her, Delaney and Jax still hadnt got round to celebrating their new engagement. Oh dont get me wrong no body had missed the Gigantic rock on the left hand of Jax Teller’s Old Lady. And both Delaney and Jax were all over each other the second they got the chance, even Gemma walking in on the couple at one point. They were totally obsessed with eachother, They just hadnt had the chance to throw a party/ annocuncement yet.

Delaney sighed in frustration as she looked at the Que at the checkout. Why was it always busy when your in a rush? “Oh fancy seeing you here!” Delaney rolled her eyes as she recognized the voice instantly. Turning around Delaney plastered a smile on her face that was clearly fake. “Tara.” Tara’s face twisted at the uninterested tone in Delaney’s voice. “How’s Jax? Havent seen him around.” Delaney smirked, “Oh my Fiance?” She questioned purposely lifting her left hand and flipping her hair. “You wouldnt have seen him around much. We’ve been real busy.” The smirk on Delaney’s face grew wider as Tara’s face fell quickly. “Your engaged?” Nodding her head and sighing dramatically Delaney couldnt help but enjoy this moment abit more than she should. “Yeah. I still cant believe he popped the question so quickly. He’s such a romantic. All over me any chance he gets. We’re just so happy together.” Tara’s face fell deeper into a frown with every word that passed from Delaney’s lips. Hearing how happy they were together is the last thing she wanted to know. Jealousy was clear to read on Tara’s face as she rolled her eyes at the soon to be Mrs Teller and made her way to the furthest checkout in the store. Delaney being the petty person she was couldnt help but call out to the scorned ex-girlfriend, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Dont be a stranger now Tara! I’m sure we will see you at the fundrasier today.” Turning back to the counter, Delaney unloaded her cart. Damn, She really was turning in to gemma.

Less than an hour later, everything was finally ticked off of Gemma’s list. Sighing with relief, Delaney finally sat down at the bar in a quiet clubhouse. Everyone was setting up at the school field, But with it being a Friday the usual party also needed setting up. Delaney volunteered hoping it would give her 30 mins peace. She’s felt so tired the last few days. With all the trouble from club and all the worry its no wonder she feels like she could sleep for days. The sound of the door slamming open made her jump in her seat, her heart hammering in her chest. “Sorry Baby. Didnt mean to make you jump.” The sound of Jax’s voice calmed her instantly. Smiling up at him as he wrapped his arms around her, She couldnt help but question how she got so lucky. “You ok?” Jax asked worriedly as he brought his thumb up to caress the dark circles under her eyes. “Yeah. Im just tired. I worry too much about everyone. Been waking up in the middle of the night feeling sick so I'm not sleeping well. It's just anxiety baby it'll pass." Delaney smiled up at her soon to be husband as she lifted her hand to smooth the frown lines on his forehead. "I knew something was wrong when I kept waking up to you leaving our bed. Your going to the doctor Laney." Jax pulled his phone from his pocket but before he could dial the doctors office Delaney pulled it from his hands and placed it on the bar. Standing from the bar stool she was sat on a grin spread across her lips as she gripped Jax's kutte. "I know what will make me feel better." She spoke softly before capturing his lips with hers. Jax smiled down at his fiance as he let her push him backwards until the leather of his Kutte hit the double doors of the club meeting room. "You are insatiable woman." Delaney grinned against the soft skin of his neck. "That's right Teller. Just can't get enough of you." Reaching out behind her Fiance, she forced the doors to the meeting room open and made her way inside. Leaning against the large Oak table with the detailed carving of the reaper, her mischevious eyes met his. "Tell me how good it would be to bend me over this table?" Delaney made her way around to Jax's VP chair, her eyes never leaving his as she spoke. "Or to make me ride you in your chair. Every time you sit in it, your brain giving you flashbacks of me writhing on top of you." Not being able to help himself anymore, Jax sat down in his chair and pulled her to sit astride him. “I love you.” Delaney smiled as she looked down at her fiance, his cheeks light pink and eyes full of lust. How this man even took a second glance at her, nevermind fall in love with her, she would never know. But he did. He was hers. And that filled Delaney with more emotion than she would ever be able to show. “I love you, more than you’ll ever know Teller.” So she showed him, just how much he made her crazy, just how much love and lust he filled her with. Right there, in his VP Chair. In the private room, where no random crow eater or any other insignificant woman had had a piece of her man, she gave Jax a memory he would never forget. No, going forward every time her man sat in that chair he would be reminded just what his old lady could do.

“There you are! I was getting ready to send a goddamn search party! Your asses are 2 hours late.” Gemma scolded Jax and Delaney as they finally made their way to her food stand. Crossing her arms over her chest as she examined the flustered pair, it didnt take a rocket scientist to work out why they were late. Jax smiled cheekily at his mother as he flung his arm over Delaney’s shoulder. “Sorry Ma, Just cant keep my hands off my beautiful fiance.” God, he would never get tired of saying that. Delaney flushed red as a smirk crossed Gemma’s face. “Yeah Yeah, get your fine ass in that booth sweetheart im swamped.” Delaney stood on her tip toes to kiss Jax gently and headed for the booth to start serving. A few minutes later, when the que for Gemma’s famous Chilli died down, Delaney knew the interrigation from her future mother in law would start. “Y’know if you keep letting him hit it like that you’ll be knocked up before you know it. Bare foot and swollen will be your new normal, Jax wants a football team baby. Always has.” Gemma didnt waste any time. Straight to the point, as she always was. At the mention of babies, her heart panged painfully in her chest. If she was strong enough, if she protected it, they would already have one. And she lives with that guilt every day. If only she had been better. Tears filled her eyes at the thought of what she had lost. What Jax unknowingly lost because of her. Her eyes drifted across the green and locked on her smiling fiance as he played with Opie’s son, Kenny. He would be an amazing dad. Sensing the atmosphere in the booth change and seeing the tears fall down Delaney’s face so quickly had Gemma feeling instantly guilty. “I’m sorry baby.” The look on her face told Delaney she genuinely meant the apology. Shaking her head, She sniffled lightly and tried to dry her still flowing tears. “It’s okay. It’s just me. Over-emotional me.” Delaney wiped her hands on her jeans as she tried to steady her breathing, eyes still locked on Jax as he now held Ellie while talking to Donna. “I’m gonna go for a walk. I just need a minute. I’ll be back by the time the band starts.” High tailing it out of the booth, Delaney made her way into the high school and headed for the bathrooms. She needed as far away from Gemma and her foot in mouth syndrome as she could get.

After hiding in the bathroom for 10 Minutes, Delaney realised that she couldnt avoid this, as much as she wanted to. She needed to suck it up and stop being so touchy. Knowing Gemma didnt make her comment with malace, Delaney couldnt hold it against her. She didnt know what was going on with her emotions just lately but the drop of a tea spoon could have her crying. Stress really did fuck with your brain. Running cold water over her face to hide the redness, she made her way back towards the booth Gemma and now half the club occupied. Her eyes landed on a frantic Queen B, as she got closer. “Whats wrong gem?” Gemma shook her head in frustration, “The fucking band is running late. Unser is stalling everyone with the raffle but we have no entertainment for atleast 30 mins.” Delaney shrugged, “Maybe tell people theres been a Delay? Refreshment break before the fireworks?” Gemma rounded on her, not even listening to her suggestion. “Wait, you dance right? Jax’s always going on about how amazing you are. You’ll do a performance.” Her eyes widened in fear. “What? No! i cant! i dont perform, i just do classes. Really im not that good, Jax is just being supportive.” Gemma waived her hand still not listening to a word she said. “Unser will announce you in 5 mins. Meet you by the stage.” Delaney groaned in frustration. Gemma really was an Asshole when she wanted to be. Making her way across the green, anxiety twisted her stomach in knots and threatened to make he heart jump from her chest. Coming to a stop infront of the stairs that lead to the stage, Delaney shook her head. There was no way she could dance on that stage with how bad the floor was. One wrong move and she would break her neck. What the fuck was she meant to do?

"And now! Please put your hands together for an exclusive performance from our very own Delaney Carter!!" As she ascended the stairs and made her way towards the microphone, her eyes scanned the crowd for the one person she needed to get through this. And she found him at the back stood with Gemma, his blonde hair tucked under a Reaper Crew Cap and confusion twisted on his face. Clearing her throat, Delaney grabbed the Mic and took a deep breath trying to swallow back the vomit in her throat. "So our band has been delayed and I've been given the job of entertaining you all. As most of you know, nobody gets away with telling my future mother in law no." The laughter from the crowd helped ease her nerves slightly. "Dancing is the only talent I really have but this stage is not the safest thing and I don't really perform. So I'm gonna do something I haven't in years, I'm gonna sing you a song."

Jax Watched as Delaney Nervously shuffled her feet as Unser pressed play on the speakers. He had never heard her sing. No one really had, but when the music started to play loudly and her voice drifted out over the crowd seamlessly he couldnt help but let his mouth drop open. Her voice. He couldnt describe it, but he was in Awe.

Hold up Hold on Don't be scared You'll never change what's been and gone May your smile Shine on Don't be scared Your destiny may keep you warm

Jax watched as everyone around them started to drift along to the very popular song. It was one of his faveorites and he couldnt believe how fucking amazing she sounded singing it.

'Cause all of the stars have faded away Just try not to worry You'll see them some day Take what you need And be on your way And stop crying your heart out Get up (Get up) Come on (Come on) Why you scared? (I'm not scared) You'll never change what's been and gone

His eyes never left her. “Shes Fucking amazing!” Gemma commented from next to him, but she sounded so distant. Delaney had his full focus. He didnt even register Tara coming to stand next to him.

Where all of the stars have faded away Just try not to worry You'll see them some day Just take what you need And be on your way And stop crying your heart out (When all of your stars) were faded away Just try not to worry You'll see them some day Just take what you need And be on your way Stop crying your heart out Stop crying your heart out Stop (Crying your heart out), stop now Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh Stop crying your heart out Ah, ooh, ooh, oh

Jax smiled widely and all of the guys started to Scream and hollar over the sounds of the clapping in support of Delaney’s Performance. Without a backwards glace, Jax rushed towards the stairs of the stage to meet Delaney as she came down. Red faced and a mixture of embarrassment and shocked that people enjoyed her singing, She laughed loudly as Jax lifted her up and spun her around, Kissing her deeply and telling her how well she did. Gemma watched with a big smile as her son held his fiance tightly. She couldnt explain how it felt to finally see him happy. “Wow. How can i compete with that?” Tara’s comment made Gemmas smile instantly drop. The angry momma bear rounded on the scorned Ex girlfriend who nearly ruined her sons life. “You Cant. Bottom Line, you cant compete when you dont compare.” Taras face instantly turned red at the insult.

“Take this as your friendly warning sweetheart. Stay away from my family, Or i’ll cut your little tits off.” And with that, like nothing was ever said out of turn. Gemma strolled towards the happy couple, with Tara watching from afar. Scorned. Hurt. And downright pissed at the nerve of Gemma.

A/N: This version of the song that i imagine Delaney singing is the Leona Lewis cover. Please search it up on Youtube/ Spotify as she has an amazing voice!

#Jax Teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller x reader #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine

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