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luveline · 1 year ago

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as a kid i was so scared of my parents splitting up, what if roan learns someone in her class’ parents are divorcing and it sends her spiralling thinking she’d never see reader again?

thank you jade 💛

thank you for requesting lovely ♡ eddie and roan (almost) stepmom!reader, 2k

"Yeah, I got the expensive kind," you're saying, phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder, a knife held loosely in your hand. "I don't wanna make it wrong."

Roan can vaguely hear the rumble of her Uncle's voice on the other side giving reassurances.

You scrape the blade of the knife against the cutting board. "I know. I know, Wayne, I swear, just… I hardly ever make him dinner and this is our last anniversary before we get married, and– I know. Sorry, that's– I know, you don't mind, it's just–"

Roan attaches herself to your hip like an octopus, looking up at you as you look down. You smile at her, putting your knife flat to stroke her hair.

"She's right here," you say, "she's helping me… okay. Thanks, Wayne, you're the best. See you tomorrow. Alright, I will. Bye."

You put your hand behind Roan's shoulder and walk her with you to the phone. As soon as you've hung it back on the hook, you scoop her up to hold against your chest, even if she's getting longer and longer every day. "Hey, babe. Uncle Wayne says he loves you and he missed you today. He wants to make you dinner tomorrow, so we'll find your nice blue dress tonight and put it in the wash."

Roan flops her face against your neck. "I love him too."

"He knows." You press your cheek to hers briefly. "Okay, you wanna sit on the top with me and I'll finish making today's dinner?"

Roan's happy to sit on the counter and swing her legs as you finish making the pot pie. It's one of Eddie's favourites because his mom used to make it a couple of times a month, and so it's one of Roan's favourites, her lips quirked with excitement as you chop onions, carrots and celery into small pieces for the frying pan.

"I love the carrots," she says.

"Yeah?" You uncap the cooking oil to pour a generous splash into the pan. "Want me to put extra in? I don't mind."

Roan nods enthusiastically. "Yes!"

She's happy watching you cook at first, but she gets quieter as you finish up. By the time the pie is in the oven she's picking at her little nails, shards of polish in her lap like powdered sugar.

"You okay?" you ask, wiping your hands clean. She shrugs. You shrug back. "What's that mean?"

"I'm thinking."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Roan pokes her toes into your thigh.

"Well, daddy's home soon, but you know you can tell me."

"Mm," she hums, holding out her hand. You don't take it, folding her into your arms for a hug instead.

It would usually make her feel better, but Roan feels ten times worse as you soften your tone to a less cheerful murmur, "Got another tummy ache?"

"Not that."

"What is it?" you ask.

She hides her face in your shoulder, pert nose to your soft shirt.

"You don't have to tell me," you whisper. "Sorry. I'm not trying to pressure you, I promise, I just love you." You turn saccharine again, patting her back as you dote excitedly into the top of her head. "Love you love you love you!" You punctuate with a kiss, and Roan starts crying.

—

Eddie's startled but not too worried to get home to the sound of Roan crying. She certainly cries less and less now that she's getting older, but children cry so often that he doesn't think it's worth panicking over.

He can hear you already on the case as he peels out of his sweaty coat and boots. "That's not going to happen," you comfort, voice bouncing off of kitchen tile, the hum of the oven like a baseboard. "It's hard to believe me, but it won't. Me and daddy are super happy."

His eyebrows rise of their own accord. "Hello?" he asks, moving down the hallway and into your bright kitchen.

Roan sits in the shadow of a corner cabinet, hunched over her knees with her face held up by defeated hands, tears wetting her rosy cheeks. You stand in front of her with your hand on shoulder, bent to her eye-level, glancing sideways at him momentarily before you say, "Look, dad's home. He's gonna say the exact same thing as me, I swear. Should we ask him?"

Eddie takes the mantle by your side, quick to rub the tears from Roan's cheek with his pinky. His hands aren't clean enough for anything more. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing," Roan says, her voice strangled by a big sob.

"Babe!" Eddie laughs, half-hearted. "I can see something's super wrong. I might be a dumb boy, but I know when my girl's upset, don't I?"

"You're not a dumb boy," Roan says.

"Oh. Thank you, Ro."

"You're a dumb man."

"Very funny." He combs unruly coils of dark hair behind her ear, finger following down the curve to her shoulder. "Quick, tell me what's wrong. Just tell me. Rip it off like a bandaid."

"It's silly," Roan murmurs.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"Oh," Eddie says, giving you a look to make sure it's alright before he monopolises her attention. You raise your hands with a small smile, as if to say, Please. "Come here, me. I'm gonna have to squeeze this out of you, huh?"

He leans back, shifting her weight against his hip, arm stretched over the breadth of her back. He's not smug, but it does bring a satisfaction to see how swiftly she calms down once he's holding her. It's a familiar picture, Eddie with his lips to her forehead, a crease between his brow just like Uncle Wayne's as he rubs her back, and Roan, a mirror image of her father, palpable relief in her hands as they tangle in his hair. Less familiar but getting there is you at their side, your cheek on Eddie's shoulder and your hand on his elbow.

"What's it gonna take to let me in on the secret?" he asks. He's making a spoiled child accidentally, always bribing and bartering for good behaviour.

"Nothing…" Her mumbling tickles his cheek as she shifts around. "I'm worry‐ing," —her voice skips over the word, like a hiccup— "about something because of Stacy."

"Oh yeah? What did Stacy do?"

"She said her mom, um, her mom said she's getting a divorce. That Stacy won't see her dad again, and it'll just be her and her mom."

Eddie doesn't judge people much. He can't imagine caring about other people's divorces when Roan was born from a fling and pretty much left on his doorstep —circumstances don't determine your kid's happiness alone. He does worry for Stacy, and his poor empathetic little girl.

"That's terrible, bubby," Eddie placates, patting her back.

"It's– well, it's– I'm…" Roan huffs.

"Whatever you tell me is fine, promise. No grounding, no telling off."

"I know, daddy, it's just hard to say."

Eddie feels himself physically melt.

He leans back against the kitchen counter and shifts her against his stomach. His arms burn with the effort of keeping her secured to him, and he's not loving her sad tone —the quicker he finds out what's wrong, the better. He peeks over her head at you for hints.

You're uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other like your feet hurt.

"What?" he asks you.

You clear your throat. "I think she's worried about me. If something happened between us, she's worried she won't see me again."

Eddie would like to think after two years of loving his daughter, watching her grow, and all together being a cherished and irreplaceable part of her life and her support system, that you'd find it impossible to leave her. Even if you left Eddie, you wouldn't leave Ro. He knows that. But only two years… he knows you'd love Roan even if he screws things up, but he can't promise her that things would be the same, because they wouldn't be.

That's not what she's asking, though.

"What, you think you won't see Y/N anymore?' Eddie murmurs, rubbing her back.

"She's not my full mom," Roan whispers.

Eddie reaches past Roan to squeeze your elbow. "You know, that doesn't matter, honey. And after the wedding–"

"You call me mom for a reason, right?" you cut him off.

Roan lifts her head from Eddie's. "Yeah."

"Okay, so, say me and dad get married, and then by some impossibility we realise we can't stay married, will you love me less?"

"No," Roan says with a pout.

"I wouldn't love you any less, either. I didn't know I could love someone this much 'til I met you," you say, voice scratchy like you're talking past gravel. "So things would change, but not how much I love you. I'd still see you."

You sound tentative. Eddie's way less hesitant. "Of course you'd still see each other. Babe, if me and mom break up it'll be because I did something stupid, so you'd see her every time I tried to apologise." He grins at you. "How long do you think it would take you to forgive me?"

"Depends on what you did." You smile fondly. "Probably not long, Munson."

"I have a weird feeling we're gonna last."

Roan sniffles. "I just don't want mom to move away," she says.

You and Eddie have already spoken about this. Serious but not sombre, on your backs in bed. You're not just marrying me, Eddie'd said, terrified of how much he wanted you to say certain things, and how you might not say them at all. This isn't just a promise to me. I know how much I'm asking from you, it's not a small thing. I won't blame you if you can't say yes, but this is… she's my world.

I already said yes. And I knew what I was saying yes to, you'd replied, holding your hand up above you, the two of you staring in wonder at the ring on your marriage finger. I promise, Eds. I won't let either of you down.

"Where do you think I'm going, princess? Me and dad are so happy. I'm staying right here stuck to his hip for the rest of time, but only if you're gonna stick to mine." You duck your head to touch your noses together briefly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Promise you." He swears you're twisting your engagement ring, but he can't quite see. "Can I have her?" you ask.

"Sure. My noodle arms are about to snap anyway."

"Noodle arms," you repeat, stealing Ro from him smoothly. "Yeah, right."

He flexes appreciatively at your comment.

Roan snuggles up to your neck, little face in the curve of it, her arms curling around you. You hold her tight and bend back under her weight, an arm against her thighs and another behind the small of her back, hand twisted up to brush her curls.

"Love you," you say softly. You're smiling like you've got everything you ever wanted. "Maybe if me and daddy break up I can just take you with me."

"Yeah!" Roan says with a gasp.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Whatever, girls. Neither of you can cook, you know that? Maybe tonight you guys can practise your new life together by not eating the dinner I'm gonna cook." Time to lighten the mood, lest Roan spend a special night lethargic.

You beam at him. "I already made dinner. Happy anniversary, handsome."

You exchanged gifts and kisses already that morning before work, but Eddie's happy to accept another quick kiss over Ro's shoulder. He dots one on his daughter's cheek to keep things fair.

"Lucky us, huh?" he says to Ro.

He's not strictly talking about dinner, and it's cheesy, but you light up like a Christmas tree. "Lucky me."

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myzticbean · 2 months ago

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Sex pollen made me do it

When I saw the Misty Invasion card about the protocores (and how they can seduce you into feeling...other things), I was immediately inspired. The sex pollen trope makes me chuckle, and I thought if anyone would take advantage of it, it would be our cutie Xavier.

If you'd like to read my fic on A03, you can find Part 1 here. I always appreciate feedback! Update: Part 2 live now!

Title: On The Job Work Hazards | Part 1

Pairing: Shen Xinghui | Xavier/You (fem! reader) Tags: Mildly dubious consent, blow jobs, semi-public sex, sex pollen

It wasn’t a hard battle, but the constant dodging was definitely wearing down my stamina as Xavier and I fought to break through the Wanderers’ shields. This one looked like a giant flower, with purple petals glimmering in the strange twilight of the protofield. If one could ignore the giant gaping maw of sharp teeth, and the violent spray of pollen puffing around its body, it would almost look beautiful.

Finally nearing the end, I briefly glanced down at my hunter watch interface to gauge its remaining health. In that split second, it charged at me, shaking its stems as the razored edge of the petals slashed forward. Xavier dashed in front of me, the slice of his blade light throwing the Wanderer into sharp relief as it fell backwards away from them.

“Xavier!” I cried out, watching as he stumbled, a haze of yellow pollen coating his face and chest. I reached out to grab him, cradling him in my arms. His blue eyes appeared dazed and dreamy - not unusual during his downtime, but he had never appeared anything less than laser focused during our missions together.

“Let’s do it now,” he gasped, choking as he inhaled more of the powder. I coughed as well, the yellow dust sticking to my lips. When I swallowed, there was a strangely sweet though gritty taste in my mouth.

Holstering my gun and removing my sword, we both raced forward, striking with expert precision. The Wanderer’s garbled cry faded as it soon disintegrated into a puff of black and blue matter.

Xavier immediately slumped to the ground, groaning. I rushed over, falling to my knees beside him.

“Xavier? What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?” I patted his shoulders and arms as gently as I could, looking for broken bones or blood. I moved down his chest to his legs, squinting as I shifted closer. The navy uniform was good at disguising bloodstains.

“Not. Hurt.” He panted, mouth open as he tilted his head back. He leaned back on his palms, his legs quivering under my touch.

“I don’t believe you,” I answered bluntly, hands moving more swiftly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

This time his groan sounded more like a moan, his hips giving an aborted thrust when I stroked my hands once more down his thighs. I paused, looking down to see his arousal tenting the slim, tight fit of his pants.

He watched me, his eyes hooded and hazy, desire turning his eyes into a dark, watery blue. I felt like I was being sucked into a whirlpool.

“Xavier?” I asked hesitantly. “Is…is it what I think it is?”

Watching his face flush, whether it was desire or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell, but I felt my own cheeks turning red. That sweet and salty flavor once again assaulted my senses.

“Was it the pollen?” I asked worriedly, and he shrugged. His head bobs as if he’s drunk. My hands have stopped their wandering, and he whines a little at the loss.

“Touch me,” he gasps, his breathing turning labored. “I need you.”

It felt like a punch to the gut, and desire seemed to melt through my bloodstream at his words. It wasn’t like we hadn’t danced around each other for the last few months working together. After grandma and Caleb…Xavier was just there, working the same long hours I had. It wasn’t quite so lonely in my almost devastating grief.

My hands hovered unconsciously above his lap, but I didn’t press down.

“You’re not in any condition to give me consent, Xavier,” I said quietly. “Do you want me to take you to a hospital?”

He was starting to sweat, small beads at his hairline, and he roughly opened the neck clasp of his jacket. A glimmer of his skin peeked through the unbuttoned collar. I pressed my thighs together, trying not to notice my own uncomfortably warm reaction. While I hadn’t been exposed to nearly the same level of pollen that Xavier had, I could feel my own body starting to heat up.

He caught the hint of my movement, licking his bottom lip in pleasure. He reached for me, pulling me closer and into his lap. I gasped softly, feeling the hot, hard length of him pressed against my backside. I unconsciously rocked back before abruptly stilling the movement, even as he tried to press me down even more firmly against him.

“Honey, please” he pleaded, a term of endearment I had never heard him use before today. Usually he called me by my name (or my full name when he was very irritated).

“Xav, don’t,” I whispered, my hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders, a little desperate now. “I can’t do this while you’re not in your right mind.”

“No,” he said abruptly, his glassy eyes staring straight into mine. “I know what I want, I know what’ll make us both feel better.” He cupped his hand over my pussy, and I whimpered at the heated press of his palm even through my pants.

He lowered his eyes to watch his hand rubbing slowly against me. I shuddered in pleasure, giving into a small rocking motion against him. With his hot, hard cock now pressing eagerly in the crease of my butt, and his hand expertly fondling me, I wouldn’t need much encouragement to come right then and there.

“I’m…I’m already…” I was a little dazed by how quickly I could feel myself starting to lose myself in the sensation of his hand and warm body pressed under me.

“You wanna come?” he asked roughly, his thumb now pressing with expert accuracy against the seam of my pants right over my clit. I shuddered and moaned, pressing my face into his neck.

“Oh, gods,” I whispered, trying not to grind too hard into him, but I could hardly stop the movement. I took a deep, panting breath. His natural scent and the sweet, powdery wisps of the pollen hit me hard. I wondered how damp my panties and trousers had become, and from his swallowed curse, I was guessing it was undeniable now.

He held me even tighter against him, removing one arm around me to brace behind him. Using the leverage, he thrust up more firmly against me. Even now, I could feel the sweet ache building, and he wasn’t even inside of me. I hadn’t dry humped with a boyfriend since I was in highschool. I chuckled a little breathlessly at the thought, before groaning against the sensitive skin of his neck.

He muttered something unintelligible, I couldn’t hear it over the rushing of blood and the sizzle on my skin. I lifted up, shifting around as I lowered my hand between our bodies, rubbing a little roughly over his cock still trapped in his pants, and it was like a spark of electricity went off between us.

I could feel him, pulsing quickly under my hand, and I knew it wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge. His strokes, previously methodical, were now erratic against my pussy. It helped clear my head, just a little, enough so I could back off his legs a bit.

“No, don’t,” he said desperately, his hands once again reaching for me, but this time I moved determinedly away from him.

“Shh,” I whispered, glancing at him beneath lowered lashes. “Let me take care of you first. Just to take off the edge.” I took another look around, but we were in a deserted no-entry zone with no other nearby teams. I would need to call into headquarters soon, though - we shouldn’t be quiet on the coms too long.

He hissed quietly when my hands went to the myriad of belt buckles across his jacket and finally around his waist, loosening just enough I could gingerly tug the zipper down. He was so hard, he strained against the barrier, and I didn’t watch to catch any skin. He sucked in a breath, watching my hands at work. Xavier braced one arm back to support his weight, while he lifted his other hand to play with strands of my hair.

“Lift up a little, sweetheart,” I said, tugging a little at his waistband, but I missed the dark flare in his eyes at the unconscious endearment. I wanted to pull down his briefs enough to free him without the band sliding back up. He shifted and without much effort, I watched as he pulled his cock free, his normally pale skin now flushed.

The soft skin over his belly, with sparse blonde hairs trailing down to his cock, was pink with his arousal. The tip flushed an angry red, quivering between us. A small bead of clear fluid seeped from the tip, and without any teasing, I took him into my hand.

I gave a slow, easy pump, and I thought he was going to tumble to the ground, the sound of his pleasure rumbling in his chest. I didn’t have much time to linger. I flicked my gaze upwards, my hand still steadily moving. He covered my hand with his own, hot and a little damp, his gaze dark and wild as he watched our fingers moving up and down together.

“It feels so good,” he murmured, his face lax and sex-drunk. He tipped his head back, eyes closing, lost in the feeling of our hands on his taut, warm flesh.

“What can I do to make you feel better?” I ask, low and sweet, my hand getting damp and a little sticky from his precum. I leaned over, not really thinking, and opened my mouth, letting a little dribble of spit wet his cock.

He gasped, clenching his hand tightly around mine. “Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart,” I cautioned, seeing how the red - almost purple - head of his cock swelled. He caught his breath on another gasp, moving my hand a little faster, up and down, twisting a little over the tip before circling down back to the root.

“What do you want?” I asked again. I knew he was getting close already. I lowered one of my hands between my legs, rubbing lightly over the seam of my pants. I could feel how damp I was even through the thick fabric.

“Yeah, touch yourself,” he begged, his eyes now locked on my hands. “Or let me do it.”

“Just focus on yourself,” I ordered. “Is it okay if I use my mouth?”

I didn’t pause my movements, guided by his hands, but there was a stutter as his hips thrust into our grip, another bead of precum leaking down over our fingertips.

“Yes,” Xavier hissed, his tousled blonde hair falling forward over his eyes as he curled forward. “Please, please.”

I didn’t draw it out, crouching down over his lap, my knees digging uncomfortably into the rocky dirt. I lapped at the tip, the slightly bitter, salty taste spreading over my tongue as I gently swiped up the moisture.

“Fuck, yes,” he whispered, finally falling back and laying flat on the ground underneath me. His hips gave an aborted buck before stilling as he tried to catch his breath. Powdery streaks of pollen dotted his uniform, the gritty texture dusting his cheeks.

Without teasing him further, I swallowed down as our hands pumped down on his shaft, opening my mouth wide to take him in slowly. I tried to pool a little saliva in my mouth, letting it wet his dick as I inched down his length. I tucked my lips closer and twitched my tongue as I tried to widen around him, avoiding pressure with my teeth.

“Take it, yeah, just like that,” he murmured, his eyes locked on me. With his free hand, he cupped the back of my head, tugging me closer. I inhaled through my nose, trying to breathe normally while I swallowed a little around his cock, taking it in further until it bumped the back of my throat.

I swallowed again against the pool of saliva flooding my mouth, trying not to gag. He didn’t press me any further, letting me adjust, the warmth of my mouth sending little quivers of pleasure through him. I could feel his thighs tremble slightly under me.

After a moment to adjust, I slowly bobbed my head, my hand pumping up to follow my mouth as I sucked on him, dragging my tongue in a slow wave against the sensitive underside of the head. His sucked in breath told me he liked it, so I rubbed my tongue there again before swallowing him back down.

He moaned, his fingers tightening their grip as he cradled my head in his hand. I made little bobs, suckling as I settled into a smooth rhythm. My fingers massaged his cock as my mouth wetted it with each languid slide up and down, my tongue fluttering over the head with each pass.

“Honey, please,” he whispered, voice strained. I liked the pet name, liked the tiny shiver of excitement that shot through me when I heard his voice wrecked with pleasure.

I sucked more strongly, beginning to pump a little faster and bobbing my head into a shorter, faster dip. While I didn’t bottom out quite as much, I could feel him beginning to pulse and flex in my hands.

His hips started to thrust in time to meet my mouth, pressing a little deeper when I sucked down, my nose brushing the soft, sparse blonde hairs at the base of his cock. I moaned, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure rippling through him. I could hear his fast, breathless pants, his hand fisting in my ponytail as he guided me a little more roughly.

I choked, my throat tightening and spasming around him, and he grunted. “Yeah, baby, let me, just like that.”

His voice wasn’t soft and sweet anymore, a low growl humming underneath the usually breathless quality of his voice. I shuddered, feeling caught in his grip, trying to breath as he thrust a little more deeply, bumping the back of my throat. I whimpered and swallowed, releasing his cock with my hand so I could brace myself on his thighs. He took over, fisting his cock as he pressed forward between my lips.

I could feel saliva draining, my mouth gleaming, the corners of my mouth leaking down and pooling down on his flesh. The wet fap of his hand and my mouth made me blush furiously, embarrassed and aroused in equal measure.

I was so turned on even as I remained untouched. My nails dug into the rough, thick fabric of his pants, scritching a little at the stretch and burn in my lips and jaw. I mewed just a little, trying to keep a steady rhythm.

“Don’t stop, I’m close,” he warned, his voice tight. I could feel his balls tighten when my chin brushed them, my lips dragging as I bobbed my head, throat working on each swallow. His precum spread over the roof of my mouth, coating my tongue, and the scent of his arousal blocked out everything else.

His thrusts became deeper, more powerful as he let go of some of that tight control he always had, his cock fucking my mouth as he threw his head back, his guttural moans like dark music in the deserted space. Finally, his entire body tightened, taut like a bowstring as he arched, his muffled “fuck” echoing as he spurted into my mouth.

He thrust a few times, erratic now, as a hot, warm gush of his come flooded my mouth, bitter and salty and thick on my tongue. I wanted desperately to pull away and spit it out, but he held my head tight in his hand, still pushing me down a little on his cock as he gave a few final jerks into my mouth.

“Yeah, honey, so good, you did so good,” he murmured, finally releasing my hair and letting me pull back, releasing his cock with a small pop . “Can you swallow for me?"

I grimaced but did as he asked, swallowing down his release before sighing, and settled back on my heels next to him.

“Are you okay?” I asked tentatively as his breathing finally calmed, and he slipped his pants back over his hips though left the belt unbuckled. He looked a little lazy, his eyes hazy with pleasure and a slight sheen of sweat dampening his neckline. He looked tousled and ruffled, and I wanted to jump on top of him and pin him down to the ground.

When he looked at me and met my gaze, I wondered just how much I had revealed, because his lip curled in amusement as he watched the expressions flit across my face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he answered slowly, his voice back the usual soft, breathy puff. But his heavy-lidded eyes were dark, passion-filled, and I wondered just what he was thinking.

I felt a little awkward, not sure what I should be doing now that the initial burst of desire had passed. I quickly swiped my hands over my face, blushing at the damp saliva and traces of his come still dotting my chin and cheeks, swallowing the taste of him in my mouth. He watched my hands, and I could see he was semi-hard through the tight fit of his slacks.

I shifted backwards, getting ready to stand, but he grabbed me and lifted me onto his lap. I squealed a little as he settled me down, bending his knees a little to cuddle me closer, his arms looping around me.

Xavier leaned forward a little, pressing his face into the bend between my neck and shoulder, breathing deeply. He nosed my collar out of the way, a soft kiss lightly fluttering over the sensitive skin.

“Xa…vier…” I whispered, trembling a little in his arms. I was a little confused, and a little unsure of what to do. He could swing hot or cold depending on the day and our mutual stress level and workload. We had never been this intimate before, always dancing on the edge of something more but neither willing to commit to it.

“Come home with me,” he murmured, lips peppering kisses up my neck, cheek, my chin, before sweeping over my lips in a gentle caress. “I want to make you feel good.”

I lifted a hand, cupping his cheek. “Is this from the pollen?” I asked warily. “To be honest, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

He opened his mouth, getting ready to speak, when a sudden beep from my hunter watch interrupted us. I answered, pressing the interface button. “Hunter, we detected some anomalies in your area. Have you completed your mission?”

“Yes, we defeated the wanderer and closed the protofield. However, we were both sprayed with an unidentified powder, and will be initializing Decontamination Protocol 3.”

“Understood. Report back after decontamination protocol has been completed. HQ out.”

“Hunter out.”

I turned off the watch as Xavier stared back at me, cradling me in his arms. He didn’t clutch me tightly, but soothingly rubbed up and down my spine, which I could feel despite the thick leather vest I wore. It felt surprisingly natural. I wondered if the pollen was also affecting me, especially when I leaned forward in his arms and brushed my lips over his cheek. I drifted across his soft skin, nibbling at his earlobe. It flushed red beneath my lips and tongue, and his breath caught in a light gasp before he spoke.

“Will you come home with me?” he asked, his voice quiet and subdued. He knew there was a chance I’d say no, and that he couldn’t argue with me.

“I…” I hesitated, before sighing and saying, “yes. I want to. But it really might not be a good idea.”

He cupped my chin, silently requesting that I raise my eyes to his. I glanced up, a little shy, and unconsciously lifted my hands to cover my mouth.

He pulled the hand away, kissing me deeply. There was no way he couldn’t taste himself on my lips and tongue. He hungrily sipped at my mouth, slicking open my lips so that our tongues could playfully curl together. He rubbed the roof of my mouth before retracting his tongue and gently pulling away.

He rested his forehead against mine, and I could feel his slowly hardening arousal pressed between us. I unconsciously rocked forward in his lap, enjoying the slow released huff of his breath.

“You feel so good,” he said, voice a little rough. He swallowed hard. “I’ll do whatever you want. Even if you just want me to take you home. To your home,” he clarified.

“I want you,” I answered softly. I felt a little embarrassed, but made myself meet his eyes. “I want a shower, and I want you…to…” I gulped. “I want you to fuck me. And then make love to me.”

He groaned, peppering little kisses on her face. “Yes,” he said, his voice quiet and a desperate tinge to the agreement. “Wrap your legs around me.”

I did as he asked, sliding my arms over his shoulders, and he boosted himself to his feet, holding me steady with one palm cupping my butt. I heard the clank of his belt rustling as he held me up against his belly.

“Hold on tight,” he murmured. And with a dazzling flash of light, we were swept away.

#love and deepspace #lads xavier #fanfiction #xavier love and deepspace #sex pollen #smut #xavier x mc #xavier x reader #misty invasion

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wynnyfryd · 1 year ago

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Trailer park Steve AU part 25

part 1 | part 24 | ao3

cw: throwing up, recreational alcohol & drug use

“Well, thank fuck I didn’t wear the Reeboks,” Eddie laughs.

Steve groans 'Jesus,' because he doesn't know what else there is to say to that. Eddie came out of nowhere. Materialized like some kind of freaky wizard. And that would— that would be on brand, wouldn’t it?

Eddie the magician. Eddie the shapeshifter.

Maybe Eddie is Misty? Would explain why she left him all those dead rats when he first—

“Oh, fuck.” His stomach rolls at the thought, a hot-cold-nasty-sick shiver down his spine, and he bends forward to retch again. Hits the grass this time at least, right between Eddie’s boots; groans and spits drool into the dirt. Eddie smooths a hand between his shoulder blades, which is nice, even if everything else about this totally blows.

“Godddd,” he moans when the dry heaving stops. He lifts his head to apologize and nearly tips himself into the mess he just made.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, hey; easy,” Eddie shushes, steadying him with both hands. Warm palms against his biceps; firm grip.

“S’nice.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grins, private and soft. "Alright, arms up."

"Mmh?"

"Up! Come on, sweetheart, up you get." He loops Steve’s arms around his neck, wearing him like a cape. Steve giggles into his fluffy curls, nuzzles his nose into them because they're warm and Eddie smells nice, and time does that weird drunk thing where Steve slow blinks and suddenly they're a hundred yards away.

Edge of the creek, downstream from the falls where the water’s just a thin squiggle cut through smooth, mossy stone. Eddie's got Steve facedown across his lap, gathering up his hair and making a headband with his hands, and he's apologizing in advance for Steve-doesn't-know-what.

"Big breath," Eddie warns him, and then he dips Steve's face in the icy stream like he's battering fried chicken in a goddamn egg wash. Two quick dunks, the cold ripping through Steve's nerves; it's all finger-licking fucked.

"What the hell?!" Steve splutters when Eddie lifts him up, rolls him onto his back and smiles down at him.

"Mornin', sunshine!"

"Jesus Christ!"

Eddie's laughing at him hard. "Sorry, big boy. Had to wake you up somehow."

He brushes Steve's bangs off his face, and Steve pants up at him, wide awake now. Trembling. In the dark, Eddie's eyes look nearly black. Two inkpots full of moonlight.

“'M awake," Steve mumbles to distract himself from the sudden kick-throb behind his ribs. "Sorry I barfed on your shoes."

“Ah, comes with the territory.” Eddie kicks his legs out, rinsing the toes of his boots off in the stream. “Drug dealer, remember? Seen a lot worse than this at parties, sweetheart, I can promise you that."

Steve blinks at him. Still feels syrupy and slow like he's wading through mud. Sweetheart. The word's a fog machine in his mind. Hazy warmth; candy clouds. "If... If you're a drug dealer, then... should've woken me up with drugs."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm. Jus' rude not to, really."

Eddie's lips quirk. His eyes are soft, his fingers combing through Steve's hair, and Steve's head is still in his lap, even though it probably shouldn't be. "If you want coke..." he murmurs, his voice a low, fond rumble, "you can just ask for it."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, Stevie."

Steve watches with rapt attention as Eddie reaches into his jacket, pulls out a little baggie and holds it up in question. Steve gulps; nods.

Fuck yeah. He hasn't had coke in forever.

Eddie pours the smallest amount onto the back of one hand, licks the thumb of his other and presses it into the pile, coating it in white powder. He brings it up to Steve's mouth and rests it right against his lip — barest hint of pressure; not hovering, not pushing in. "Well, go on," he smirks.

Steve makes a questioning sound that comes out like a whine, a high, nasal thing in the back of his throat. His cock stirs in his jeans.

"Ask me," Eddie whispers.

"Can I have it?" Steve asks. He can feel Eddie's thumb against his lips as he speaks; has to stop himself from flicking out his tongue to get a taste. "Please?"

"Fuck," Eddie hisses between his teeth. "Yeah, baby." He presses into the meat of Steve's bottom lip; drags it down, exposes skin that's wet and warm. Dances over it with the pad of his thumb — the inside of Steve's lip, his gums, his tongue.

There's no mistaking the sound Steve makes for anything but a moan, throaty and deep as he sucks Eddie's thumb deeper into his mouth; hollows his cheeks, makes Eddie gasp. Makes him twitch his hips up under Steve, and it's good, and Steve feels like there are live wires where his veins used to be, the rush of the coke and Eddie's hands and Eddie's noises in his good ear, and—

"Hey!" someone shouts across the field. Eddie moves like he's been shot at, flinching away from Steve entirely, a hand pressed over his lap as he turns to see who's coming.

Steve lifts his head to look. His mouth is buzzing, lips full and flushed like he's been kissing someone. Kissing Eddie. God, he wants to. Wants to hike him up the falls, shove him hard against a tree.

But he can't. Because Jason Carver's here now.

Great.

—

part 26

gonna do the tag lists in separate reblogs from now on (with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content), comment and let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic #cw: alcohol #cw: drugs

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gorgeousgust · 7 months ago

Text

I HAVE NO HEART. (NI WEH SESH) -K.B

Pairings: (Kaz Brekker x heartrender!reader)

A/N: Hello beautiful people! This fiction is based off clearly the season two, episode six from the Shadow & Bone series. There are some exact quotes from the episode because for the plot of the storyline. As a reminder, I don’t own Y/N and other characters and all rights go to beautiful Leigh Bardugo… I just love the write fanfics! Anyways, this is the only way I would write touching scenes with Kaz. And I loved watching that episode, it was amazing. The way the actors played very well… And I thought why wouldn’t Y/N be in it? Hope you enjoy it! Have a nice reading!

Word Count: 4.540

Warnings: Violence, poison, and no hates to Zoya, I love her but in the story, it is a bit different.

“There is something in the air!” Tolya said it with a haze of a worry. As all of you looked at the ceiling, you saw a red powder spreading across the room. “This is how we die?” Jesper exclaimed anxiously.

Suddenly a strong cough filled your throat. Your lungs were filling with the poisonous powder, when you turned your head to your side, you saw Jesper as he blacked out and collapsed into the floor. As you backed away, still coughing like the others, you leaned on the ground and put your hands on your heart.

As Tolya and you shared a glance, both of you were stabilizing your heartbeats. You glanced to Inej as she passed out and a loud thump came out from Kaz, as you looked at him he fell on the floor harshly. You feared that this moment might be all of your death.

The Slat was quiet unusually. You scoot over from Nina’s side and sit down on the high chair. You were eating some breakfast, as you felt growling inside your empty stomach.

While you were eating, two person came inside to the Slat. As you looked at them, the man had a strong physique and wore off-shoulder leather coat. He looked mighty. As you turned to the girl he was with, she looked oddly familiar. Had dark brown eyes match with her dark brown hairs. Her expressions were cold and still. While the guy looked rather cheerful. He was a Shu also. Then as you examined the girl further you realized it was Zoya. Zoya Nazyalensky.

As they beelined to the Kaz’s office, you exchanged a look with Nina. “Why is Zoya doing in here?” She asked confused. “I have no idea.” You looked confused too, but you waited patiently for Kaz to come to the table you and Nina sat.

After several minutes, Kaz walked downstairs following with Zoya and that Shu guy. As they walked to the table you two were sitting, Kaz informed briefly why they were here. The Shu man, introduced himself as you learned his name was Tolya, he explained further about why they wanted your assistance on this plan.

As you listened patiently, Nina spat in disbelief. “The Neshyenyer? Sankta Neyar's blade?” Zoya looked at her reproachful. “So, you haven't forgotten what you were taught at the Little Palace.” She said teasingly. “Just your loyalty to Ravka.“ She turned to her glances to you too while she was talking with Nina.

You haven’t bothered to answer her as Nina jumped in. “Ravka? Or Kirigan? It didn't take him destroying a city for me to question my loyalty.“ She said a little louder.

As Jesper intervened to ask the payment, Tolya answered and Zoya explained further for Nina’s questions.

After Kaz finished the conversation with an agreement, you looked at Kaz briefly then turned your attention back to Zoya while she eyed you with a straight expression.

That was it, a new business, going to help the sun summoner to destroying the fold, in return got a paycheck of thousands of kruges. You went to your own room and packed a small bag for your tools. As Kaz secured your passports, you went to meet them outside the Slat.

It was going to be an extremely dangerous quest. A difficult one, you were feeling it.

Before all of this happened, you were a heartrender, learning to control your abilities and studying small science in Little Palace. As soon as you were studying and under commands of General Kirigan, you realized that this place is degenerated.

You were friends with Nina, back then. As you two were both heartrenders, she was like a big sister for you. She supported you through everything you dealt about the Little Palace.

One day, you decided to tell her your plans. You were going to escape the Palace, you relied on Nina so much that you were so sure about that she wasn’t going to turn you in, as you went to her, you realized she was also making her escape plan too.

You two escaped the palace but unfortunately you grew apart as you found yourself in Ketterdam your dock sailed in. As that time, you and Kaz’s paths crossed. He found who you were and what was your abilities, then he offered you a salaried position. Because you were useful. Also, you needed money so you agreed his offer and worked for him.

After everything happened and your way’s crossed again with Nina, you were more than happy to see a friend.

As all of you finally docked in Shu Han, you looked at the crowd. The place looked beautiful. The crowd wore nice and unique clothes, the bazaar looked lively and relaxed, you turned to your head to Tolya as he lowered onto his knees, there was a thin candle in his hand as he looked at the statue decored with flowers and fruits. He was speaking in Shu language as you watched him.

You were standing next to Kaz and Wylan. Watching the scene as Inej lowered to her knees next to him, praying to herself. While Zoya and Nina did the same. As they began to speak to each other, you gazed through the colored fibers. It was too noise-full and the crowd looked messy.

Then Tolya got up and walked to where you all stood. There were flutes playing through. “Just so you know, it's bad luck not to honor the dead during Suntsa Sar.” He said it as he was eating walnuts and turned his gaze to the statue. Kaz side eyed the man as he was standing and looked pissed. Jesper scoffed and looked at Tolya.

“If I believed in luck, I'd be in less debt.“ Jesper said and you turned your gaze to Tolya. Kaz turned his face to his side and looked at Tolya coldy. He then said, “And I’m more concerned with the living.” You smirked to yourself hearing Kaz’s words. Always has a remark, you thought to yourself.

After Kaz said the tea shop should be open by now, he reviewed the plan one more time. Inside of your mind, deeply, you wanted to take Nina’s role. Pretending to be Kaz’s wife, for a brief selfish moment you wanted to feel it.

He wasn’t sentimental, how could he? If you are living in the Barrel you can’t have those ‘weak sentiments’ Kaz said always. It was a cruel joke to you, because you loved that man.

Over the time as your acquaintanceship bloomed into a friendship, you caught feelings for the very man who deprived himself from it. Despite he was denying the little feelings he has, you heard his heart.

After you two become friends, it wasn’t confirmed by him but it was there, you understood it, you subconsciously let yourself hear his heartbeat. It was impossible to not hear it. Whenever you met his dark eyes, you felt the heartbeats of his paced faster.

Or whenever he was in his office, writing things on papers or reading some books and planning heists, listening his heartbeat calmed your heart too.

But there were ups and downs. Whenever someone mentioned Pekka Rollins’s name or the nightmares he was having, you were the only one who knew about it, you heard his heartbeat got extremely fast which was worried you so much.

You wanted to help him, at those moments when you were near to him, those anxious feelings eased after seconds. He knew it was your doing. He never confronted you about it but sometimes it really did help him. You two never talked about any of this but Kaz was in fact, grateful.

They say the eyes are the mirror of the heart, maybe Kaz hid his true views by training himself but his heart was never hiding himself to you.

But most of the time, he hated it. How you can able to hear his heartbeat, his pulse, it was giving him away to you, he wanted to keep the disguise. Because disguise is always a self portrait.

Nina was pretending to be his wife, Inej was on the roofs for following Ohval and you were left to stuck with Zoya.

After what happened in that tea shop, all of you sat into a place and talked about what happened. Kaz explained about how Ohval was the Disciple and Nina said how she was able to control her own heartbeat. Kaz explained further.

Then Kaz began to explain the plan. He glanced at Nina briefly. “While she's out of the house, Nina will tail her to make sure she stays out of the house.“ Then she looked at you for a moment. “The rest of us will grab the blade. “ He said.

Zoya intervened in quickly and looked at Kaz with an annoyed expression. “You don't seriously expect me to break into this woman's house.“ Jesper looked at her unbelievably then he joined the conversation. Uh, why do you think we're here?“ He said it confusedly.

Zoya looked at Jesper, “I'm a soldier, not a thief. Why else would I need you criminals?” She said it with an arrogance in her face visible.

You looked at her as you rolled your eyes. “Well, sorry to disappoint you Zoya but there is not much of a difference between them than you think.” You looked at her with coldness as Nina chuckled to ease the tension. “Says the girl who ran away from her country.” Zoya said as you were about to reply back to her, Zoya turned to Kaz. “I’ll go with Nina.”

Nina coughed while she was eating some walnuts. “Are you sure you don’t need me?” She said to Kaz. “I mean, Zoya can tail Ohval.” You watched Nina as you grinned. Kaz was done with the silly arguments you two had with Zoya. “Nina and Zoya will wait for Ohval at the apothecary. Follow her. If she starts heading home, buy us some time. Distract her.” With that Kaz put an end into that conversation, again.

Now it was the time for the plan. You and the others walked to the outside of Ohval’s house. The building looked very much traditional, as you were thinking like that, Tolya voiced your thought. You looked briefly at Kaz. You were wondering what he was thinking.

As Jesper approached to Wylan’s side, you heard a faint heartbeat. Tolya must’ve heard it too, he and you shared a glance. He said there was a faint heartbeat and you agreed.

When the doors opened you, Kaz, Inej, Tolya and Jesper entered inside whilst Wylan was standing outside for all of you. As you heard a click sound, you turned to your back and look at the door.

Inej and Tolya both tried to open the door with their hands after it was no use, they kicked the door and it was useless. You heard a groan from them. Then as Inej tried to stabbed the wallpaper but it was no use, it was impenetrable and then you looked at Kaz. “Kaz what do we do?” You whispered to him.

Kaz, as he clanged his cane into the door he looked at you then Jesper. “The frames are made of metal.” As he said it Jesper looked relieved for a moment. “They are Durast made.”

As you heard another click sound, “There is something in the air!” Tolya said it with a haze of a worry.

You tried, you tried too hard to stay awake. You were yelling Wylan’s name but it was no use, it felt like your voice sounded mere whisper. You looked at Tolya which he tried to also yell for Wylan.

Then as you turned your glance towards Kaz and saw him laying there unconsciously, your vision got blurred and the next thing you felt the dizziness and the pain in your head.

You found yourself back in the Crow Club. You looked around�� it was empty. There were no heartbeats you could feel. A slight worry took you over as you hurriedly walked to Kaz’s office.

You opened it without knocking. When you entered the inside of his office, there was only a dim light, lightening his desk.

“Hello, Y/N.” You heard Kaz’s crooked voice. How could that be possible? You haven’t heard his heartbeat and you still couldn’t. “Kaz?” You looked at him as your eyebrows furrowed. He was wearing a white shirt, very unusual for him.. He would only wear black outfits. He looked too angelic to be true, as you drank his appearance.

His faint skin looked brighter as he wore white shirt, his hair disheveled and his gloves… As he approached to your side, he was slowly getting rid of his gloves. “What are you doing?” You whispered worriedly. You knew he had an aversion to touch and you felt anxious as he was taking his gloves off.

“Can I?” He was asking for your consent to touch you, as his hand raised to side of your cheek, you didn’t understand what was happening but before your mind could protest, the feelings inside of you thought different. “Yes.” You found yourself saying.

Kaz’s hand slowly caressed your cheek and you closed your eyes for a brief moment. It was so strange yet so familiar to you, feeling his touch, it was a feeling that you wanted to bottle and drink away.

Then you opened your eyes and looked at him. His gaze never left yours as you looked at him. “I… want you, Y/N.” As your bodies pressed together, you looked at him with tears forming in your eyes.

“Kaz…” You whispered softly. “I, I-“ You felt shattered as his nose touched with yours. You closed your eyes and felt your lips be touched by his. It blossomed flowers inside your chest as you felt the foreign feeling. It was new but something happened through the haze of love, you coughed.

You looked at him as your eyebrows crossed in a confused glance. “You are not Kaz.” You said as you looked at your environment. This place wasn’t his office anymore, suddenly you found yourself in Little Palace, in Kirigan’s room. “How’s my little heartrender doing?” Kirigan said it smoothly as he looked at you devilishly. “What is happening?” You sounded afraid.

He then approached to your side. “Did you miss me, Y/N?” He smirked. Then he grabbed your hand. “Let go of me!” You resisted but it was no use, he was strong and you became that girl. That little girl who was yanked away from their family and trapped in Kirigan’s arms. “You cannot escape from me, Y/N, you know it.”

You tried to yank your hand away from him. To use your heartrender abilities to get him down but it was no use. “Maybe, you want this huh?” He looked at you as feelings of betrayal crossed his eyes. Then he let go of you and pulled his hand in the air as Kaz appeared in the door. “I’m going to destroy him!” Kirigan said.

“No!” You yelled as the time you put your hands up and waved it in the air, Kirigan’s shadow cut already killed Kaz, you were late.

“Y/N!”

You heard a voice.

“Y/N! Come on, wake up!”

Inej was the first one to wake up from the nightmare of the poison, she could able to reach Wylan and as Wylan could explode a small hole in the wall, he gave Inej butterflies.

Inej, as she ate the butterfly as Wylan said it, she felt disgusted. Nearly she was going to throw up however after a few seconds, she felt better. “Wylan..” She whimpered. “We need four more.” She said it in pain.

Inej put the butterfly in Tolya’s mouth as she forcefully made him chew the butterfly. As Tolya woke up with a disgusting taste in his mouth, Inej went to Wylan’s side and took one more butterfly from him.

Then she gave it to Tolya. “Tolya, Jesper. Put it in his mouth.” As Inej said it, she went away and took one more butterfly from Wylan’s hand.

She hurriedly scoot over the Y/N’s side and opened her mouth with her hand. “Come on, Y/N, eat.” As she forcefully tried to made her eat the butterfly, “Y/N, Come on, wake up!” Inej yelled and tears formed in her eyes, after several seconds, you woke up and met Inej’s face. “Inej?” You looked at her confused and you turned your gaze to the room.

You weren’t there inside the Little Palace, it was the poison. Then Inej got up from your side and took the last butterfly and approached to the Kaz’s side, as your eyes followed Inej, she forcefully tried to put the butterfly into Kaz’s mouth, but it was no use.

Something was keeping him from there and he was too tense to eat the butterfly. You looked at Kaz as tears brimmed in your eyes, you closed your eyes for a second as you remembered the cut, you opened and rushed to Inej. “Let me try,” You said desperately.

When Inej gave you the butterfly, you looked at Kaz’s closed eyes. “Don’t leave me, please.” You whispered to yourself. You opened Kaz’s mouth and tried to make him eat the butterfly, it was hard and he was struggling to eat it. “Kaz, Come on!” Your voice was dangerously loud as a tears dropped from your eyes. “I’m not gonna lose you, not today!”

You yelled to him as you tried to make him eat the butterfly.

“Who are you without your vengeance?” Jordie screamed at Kaz as his face looked too pale and there were inflammation marks all over Jordie’s face. “What is the worth of life if you have no one left to fight for?” Jordie said it with sadness, after completing his sentence the anger inside of him came back and his eyes light up with fire.

He drowned Kaz into the water again and Kaz’s felt the utter pain inside his body all over again. The feeling of his lungs feeling with water, utterly panicked him.

Then he heard a voice. It was not Jordie’s. Muffled but not his. It was a girl voice. “Kaz, come on!” She yelled, then as the hands pulled him back, he looked at the very face of Y/N.

The way her eyes looked too worried for him, the way her touch calmed his heart and as the way she pulled him, he looked so relieved to see her.

“Kaz, I’m so sorry,” She said as Kaz’s eyes opened. For a moment, Kaz didn’t feel Y/N’s touch on his face as his eyes met with hers, a sincere relief could be seen by anyone.

But Kaz remembered. The feeling of wet dead bodies flashed into his mind and suddenly he struggled under Y/N’s touch, Y/N hurriedly backed away from him and closed her eyes.

“Is anyone alive?” You heard Wylan’s worried voice. After Tolya and Inej briefly talked, you got up and avoided to look at Kaz. His back was turned from all of you. You got up slowly and looked at Inej. “Did anyone else get lulled into a comforting sense of joy?” Jesper said as his voice cracked, his eyes got teary.

“I didn’t see anything.” Kaz said it coldly as you looked at him. He breathed heavily then Inej briefly glanced at him. “Neither did I.” You didn’t comment on what you saw, you just dodged the question.

“Alright, what’s the plan?” Tolya said.

After Kaz came up with a plan, Ohval walked in and all of you laid down and pretend to be unconscious. She opened the door and looked at all of you. Inej, was on the ceiling and she landed silently. While she was about to pull her knife, Ohval kicked her to the backyard.

Inej got up and pulled her knives. She threw them into Ohval but as Ohval put her hand up, she pushed the knives to the ground. Inej looked at Ohval with a terrified look.

Then all of you got up from the ground. Tolya, Jesper and you hurriedly ran to the backyard as Kaz went inside of the house. Inej threw several knives into Ohval but she was too quick to dodge Inej’s knives.

As Tolya, you and Jesper went to Inej’s side, Jesper and Tolya raised his gun to Ohval, you put your hands up waiting.

Ohval threw Tolya’s gun only a movement of her hand, then she looked at Jesper and warped Jesper’s guns.

When you saw what happened, you curled your hands and showed it to Ohval. Trying to slower her heartbeat into a dangerous rhythm. Tolya also raised his hands to join you but Ohval raised her hands and pulled all the knives in Inej’s waistcoat. She turned the weapons into your way.

It was too quick.

Tolya grunts, all of you dodged the knives. “Seriously offside.” Jesper said as he was very pissed about Ohval’s movements. She threw her hair accessory to Jesper’s neck as she tried to chock him with it. Tolya approached to Ohval’s side and he pulled a punch towards her but she defended herself too quickly. She punched Tolya’s arm while Inej also did a counter on Ohval. Ohval pulled away from Inej’s fist and turned to both of them.

As both Tolya and Inej tried to takedown Ohval, Jesper was still trying to not choke. You raised your hands quickly and curled it to target Ohval. As you were trying to air out of her lungs, she quickly punched both of them to the ground and raised her hands to you.

The next minute you knew, you were choking from loss of air, inside of your lungs. Your vision got blurry, Tolya and Inej looked at you briefly then they attacked Ohval again. As you felt ease, you breathe again. It was deep and, you were hurting.

But she was too strong. She kicked Tolya down and Inej threw her kick into hers but Ohval took her leg and threw her to the wall. You got up and tried to punch Ohval but she quickly dodged the punch and kicked you to the ground.

Inej took her knife as Ohval took one of hers. She tried to stab Inej but, Inej was able to dodge them. As she fought back to Ohval, it was no use. Ohval took her down and tried to stab the knife into Inej’s chest. She was resisting but she couldn’t hold it forever.

Tolya got up slowly as he begged for Inej’s life.

Then suddenly there was an explosion.

Zoya, Wylan and Nina came in just in time. Zoya curled her hands up and hit it Ohval with it. Ohval fell on the ground as all of you got up and and looked at Ohval.

You and Nina were giving Ohval a hard time. You two were trying to stop her heartbeat. But she was powerful, as she moved her hands to the side, all of you chocked.

Zoya gasped and all of you fell down with a movement of Ohval. “This is taking longer than I’d like… Perhaps, we end it.” Ohval said with a harshness in her voice. As she curled her hands, you felt your heart quickened. Your organs were hurting and your vision got blurry. You can only feel the pain and fear. You tried to resist it but she was too powerful.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Ohval said with a smirk. “The amount of trace metal there is in the body. Iron, for instance in the blood.”

As she was killing all of you, the sound of an old man came into the backyard. Ohval put her hands down as she released all of you.

You slowly got up from the ground, you saw Kaz. You felt shocked as you heard from Kaz that the Disciple was the man, not her.

Kaz smirked as he looked at Ohval. When the man in chair revealed he stole the Neshyenyer for her and that it belonged to her in the first place, Jesper stepped in. “I’m sorry did you say she made it?” he said.

As the older man got off from the chair and approached to her, he was telling about how she made it. Then Tolya smiled and completed his words.

He chuckled softly. “And it was named Neshyenyer, ‘Relentless.’” He then fell into his knees. “We are honored to be in your presence, Sankta Neyar.” He said as all of you, expect Kaz, fell into your knees for her. “Sankta Neyar?” Inej said surprisingly.

After Jesper took the blade from Sankta Neyar’s house, all of you walked off from her house. It was early hours of morning as the sun appeared in the sky, you took a fresh air into your lungs.

As Jesper was with Wylan, he was kissing him. While Nina, Zoya and Tolya walked away from the house. You, Inej and Kaz walked away too. As you squeezed gently Inej’s arm, Kaz looked at both of you.

Inej then turned her head to Kaz. She smiled softly and looked at you. “I’m gonna check in Jesper.” She squeezed your hand and walked away from the two of you.

You and Kaz walked silently as Inej left your side. After a minute of silence, Kaz broke it. “You never told, what you saw.” You looked at him in a shocked expression. You didn’t expect him to remember it.

“You didn’t see anything, maybe I didn’t see too.” You answered it as you tried to brush it off. But then Kaz stopped in his tracks and turned his body to you. “Maybe I did see something, through the haze of poison.” He admitted as when you hear his heartbeat, it got quicken. You looked at him deeply.

“There are those who drown us, and those who pull us out.” He looked at you deeply as he said these words. You felt blush crept into your cheeks as you watched him. For a brief moment you closed your eyes. “Maybe I did see something too.” You revealed weakly.

He looked at you with a visible concern in his face. “What did your toxin trip reveal to you?” He said it curiously. You then opened your eyes and felt tears in your eyes. Kaz’s eyebrows furrowed and you smiled softly. “My reason to live and my biggest nightmare. All in the same place.”

The reason you live because of Kaz.

The biggest nightmare was Kaz’s death.

Kaz looked at you, for a brief moment his eyes soften because of the tears in your eyes. “But it doesn’t matter, now, we are alive.” You said softly and turned your body and looked at the sky. Kaz, watched your face as you looked at the sky.

He saw living saints but none of them mattered to him. The only saint he believed in was standing next to him. The only one to be there for him through his nightmares and everything.

He would become a better man for her. He would be a better man, for her.

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zuzuelectricbugaloo · 1 month ago

Text

Color Spectrum Duo Origins Part 1: The Cannibal Hymn

Word count: 1,121

Rating: Teen

Romantic relationships: None

Cw: Cannibalism of deceased monster remains, death, murder, allusions to programming and coding abuse for Killer, emotional detachment and numbness per Stage 2 and Stage 3, minor species dysphoria

Synopsis: A meat (not) cute between Killer and Color

There’s a visceral crunch, flesh and oozing blood squelching around the knife violently stabbing into his victim until the dusting monster is an unidentifiable mess of broken, bloody bones and shredded limbs in the snow.

His chest elevates and compresses, pants visible in the cold air with every expeditious inhale for breath he doesn’t need. His mana thrums in his body, joints sparking with agitated magic, the powder blue color a sharp juxtaposition of the sanguine staining the snow, his clothes, and the mutilated corpse by his unlaced shoes stained cherry red.

Corroded determination oozes out his sockets to the pulse of freshly acquired LV burning through his leylines, liquid heat scorching his marrow. The heavy stench of iron and copper burn through his nasal aperture and flood his mouth with the forbidden taste.

“Wow, you really let Toriel have it.”

Chara floated in his periphery, revering the gore and remains of what was once a lovely, pristine white coat shaping a warm, friendly monster.

Now there’s nothing but a mutilated corpse slowly dusting away, abandoned and alone in the middle of Snowdin forest, in a bloodbath of his own design.

“We better head back before the “Boss” calls, huh?” Chara hummed. They spun in the air, idly kicking their legs as they aerially circumvented his skull. “Think he’ll let you eat this time?”

Killer wipes his blade on the component of his shorts not stained red. He shrugged.

Chara frowned from his nonverbal replication. “Seriously? I’m pretty sure you haven’t eaten since the massacre in one of Starboy’s AUs and all you do is shrug?”

Despite the hollowness in his chest, a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth when he shrugs again. He hoists his blade up to his sockets and flips it over. Noting with dissatisfaction that it’s still stained.

Killer brings the knife up to his mouth. His oral orifice tingles and sparks into a construct, his now evoked tongue sliding passed his parted jaw to lick his sullied blade clean, the taste of copper flooding his senses.

Chara’s face scrunches up like they’d swallowed something sour.

“Okay, ew.”

He thought it was impressive how a dead human could be so full of shit. “Don’t really have any wipes in my inventory,” Killer reminded them, “And licking blood ain’t the worst thing I’ve done.”

“No, but it’s the grossest. And why resort to cannibalism now?”

“Not cannibalism.” Killer pointed to their target-shaped Soul. “We’re not human or monster anymore, right? So, technically, not cannibalism.”

Despite their ostensibly permanent smile, Chara’s hooded eyes and pursed brows were decidedly unimpressed.

A sense of foreboding trickled down his spine when their lifeless, red-slitted eyes brightened.

“Hey, if you’re so hungry,” the smile on that cherubic face convulsed into a dark, convoluted sneer. “Why don’t you eat? I mean, who knows when you’ll get the chance again, right?”

He knew to Obey a Command when he heard one. Thinly veiled threats masked by saccharine inquiries. It was par the course from his owners.

”Oh yeah,” he muttered, hollow. When was the last time he ate? His body ached and his bones rattled with exhaustion.

Nightmare feasted on emotions. He didn’t need tangible sustenance like Killer.

The crimson mass of flesh in the snow melted slowly, unable to dust completely with his magic preventing it from doing so just yet.

Killer eyed an indiscernible piece next to his sneaker.

He knew it was wrong. That this was stooping too low even for him.

And yet he feels nothing when he crouches down. He feels nothing when he scoops a piece of torn flesh from the bloodied snow and hoists the verboten meat to his maw.

He feels nothing when the stench of decay floods his nasal aperture, tastes the chewy bitterness of forbidden Red flooding his mouth with the taste of copper and his sharpened cuspids tear apart the tough sinew of muscles until they shred like easily feasted ribbons that melt on his tongue, magic into magic.

Maybe he should feel something, violating the corpse of the former Queen of Monsters who embodied the very Trait of Kindness. He smashes apart bones and marrow alike, feasts on her heart, the tiny, inverted heart he’d prevented from discombobulating completely with his Determination, and swallows it, swallows her, and swallows her magic to aliment his own. He’d taken a life and dishonored it in the worst way imaginable, and he feels nothing.

Stealing from the dead to live on their hearts and magic for his own damned Soul.

And yet, he is devoid of life.

It tasted awful, it brought him no joy, the taste filled his mouth with acid.

Yet he feels nothing. Food is food. He will die without it.

He will die if he disobeys a Command.

“Damn Sansy,” Chara whistled, high and impressed. “You’re a freak, but I never thought you were a freak!”

No, Sans would never do this.

His claws tore apart an arm, ripping the muscles and sinews and steadfastly ignoring the fresh splash of blood that splattered his skull.

But he was not Sans.

Killer grinned, teeth sharp and wide and stained crimson when his stare leveled onto Chara. “Sans is dead, and I’m his tomb.” He titled his skull back and tossed another piece into his mouth. “I’m the Killer.”

Sans lived lifetimes ago. Now, there is only Killer in this purgatory. Like the ancient King Unas, a blood-thirsty devourer.

Snap!

The sound of a camera shutter going off has Killer’s body tensing and whipping his skull around to the source of the noise.

There in the distance, a skeleton with polychromatic fire pouring out the cracks in their skull gapes at Killer with their singular eyelight. Their camera nearly falls to the snow in their shock if it weren’t for the strap around their neck keeping it in place.

Killer can smell the shock, the sweet tangy scent of fear pouring off of them the longer they hold their gaze.

“Uhhhhhh…” The skeleton froze. They both stared at each other. The silence is a heavy, tangible thing, nothing but the dead and wind to fill the void. “…Hi?”

Killer’s neck cracks from the sharp, abrupt tilt he does to fling his skull to the side. His grin widens when the uncomfortable sound provokes a grimace from the monster.

“Hello.” His Soul spins, swarming and buzzing and shifting and unable to determine the proper threat level before him.

Determination surges. It sparks in his claws and surges out like minuscule bolts of lighting into a sanguine blade in his palm. It burns him from the inside out, onyx rivers of tinged sanguine oozing out his grinning mouth and voided sockets.

“Goodbye.”

Killer lunged.

#color sans #killer sans #color spectrum duo #zuzudrabbles #my writing #let me know if I miss a tag #or need to up the rating from teen to mature #idk #allusion and nod to Utterance 274 from the Myrian Litheim translation of The Cannibal Hymn #oh also if I need to fix anything #like Killer’s personality #got any facts wrong #let me know and I will edit it appropriately

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tonixe · 1 year ago

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🧣 christmas cookies for two...

a/n: ITS THE FIRST OF DA MONTH, Christmas is in 19 more days. I have been waiting since January of last year, but as we all know it's just that time for Christmas fics.

warning: none, just fluff. (proofread)?

pairing: tom blyth x fem!reader

word counter: 416

⛄: Imagine spending Christmas with Tom Blyth, it would be magical, making snow angels with him with the freshly coated snow on the grass and everything sparkling with the snowy, white powder.

Even making a snowman and a snowwoman, and decorating them together. A hat, scarves, carrots, and rocks for the eyes and mouths, you and him standing back looking at the little cute snow couple that you two made together.

You, two just making those Pinterest-like hot chocolates with those little tiny marshmallows, candy canes, and whipped cream. Making cookies with him, like the both of you just making a mess in the kitchen, while trying to make gingerbread cookies. Homemade icing on your nose and his, as you two just continued to make a mess, trying to bake these cookies playful manner.

Going ice skating, the thick sheet of ice being carved with the blade, you holding onto his hand as your blade glides through the ice. Not without falling a few times first, before getting the hang of it. His hands holding, supporting you on the ice. Omg, sledding with Tom would be so fun too, climbing up a hill, and putting down the wooden sled on the tip of the hill, Tom hugging your body close to him as you guys go down the bumpy hill with the snow spraying you both.

Watching a bunch of movies, with many blankets, and pillows surrounding you both as you cuddled tight together watching cheesy hallmark movies. With the gingerbread cookies, you guys baked, some chocolate cookies, and hot chocolate with marshmallows.

—Also going tree shopping would be a core memory, standing out in the cold as your eyes brightly turn up in joy at the perfect tree you scouted, hurriedly getting tom attention. "Tom! Look!" You exclaimed, pointing at the medium-sized tree, "It's perfect" You smiled..."This is the tree, right!" He stood there beside you, and you nodded happily. "Alright," he gave you a smile, making your day.

Decorating the evergreen tree now standing in your shared apartment would be a core memory as well. With the red and white ornaments, and the glowing tree lights make the tree look magical, just missing the golden sparkling star. Tom helps you onto his shoulders, as you place the golden star onto the tree, completing the look wonderfully. Putting a smile on your face and his, you clapped your hands excitingly at the tree.

Ending off your perfect Christmas night with a kiss underneath the mistletoe.

#tom blyth icons #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #tbosas #tbosas x reader #tbosas movie

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chimcess · 2 years ago

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A Picture’s Worth || jjk (teaser)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut Estimated Release Date: 07/2023 Est. Word Count: ~35-40k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, crime, robberies, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, major character(s) injured, police corruption, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, bad Russian, I tried my best; tbd... Author’s Note: It’s been a while since I’ve written a one-shot- especially something this long. So, I thought “why not?” I’ve already gotten A TON written, but still going. Editing will be... fun, to say the least. This has been really exciting to write so far, though :)

I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hoboken. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.

Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.

The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.

Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.

There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.

Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before.

Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.

“Stop!”

Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

To join the taglist, ask, message, or check out my FAQ page in my bio!

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asherbakugou · 6 months ago

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Okay, so this is a story i might write but I do want to get it out there and see if anyone is interested in reading it.

So the series would be about the previous two sets of Elemental Masters of Ninjago, since some got their Element earlier, others later, and its a whole jumbled mess. The main focus would be these characters.

Keahi Kalama, The Master of Fire, and known as the Wildfire Archer, for when his arrows strike they wrupt into flames. He is also known for using different pouches full of powder to change the color and deadliness of his fire and to make the smoke itself poisonous. (Father of Ray Kalama, Grandfather of Kai and Nya Kalama)

Jiang Daiyu, the Master of Water, and known as the Tide-Bringer for she swept an army from the beach when they threatened her home village. She prefers to use a fishing spear as a weapon, simply because she knows how to use it best, and she is one of the strongest Elemental Masters of the Alliance. (Mother of Jiang Mei Lien (Maya), Grandmother of Kai and Nya Kalama)

Gerald D'Angelo, the Master of Earth, and known as the Shield for his control in forming shields to defend his allies. Most commonly seen using a massive war hammer to manipulate the earth and is naturally strong, breaking bones in a single punch. (Father of Lilly D'Angelo, Grandfather of Cole Brookstone)

Aspen, the Master of Ice, and known as the Bringer of Winter for he rarely is seen during missions in summer but once he begins being seen it means winter is coming. Used two long blades coated in poison that left his enemies rotting but frostbitten, striking fear into the hearts of his enemies. (Unknown relation to Zane Julien)

Petir, the Master of Lightning, and known as the Blue Serpent for his powerful strikes using the Imperial Adder fighting style. So fast, very few of his oppenents stand a chance when facing him outright even when they outmatch him in strength because he has experience and speed. No known weapons used. (Father of Lyn, Grandfather of Jay Walker)

Eteri, the Master of Wind, and known as Tempest for in battle she could summon massive tornadoes that left gouges in Ninjago still seen in modern day geography. Rarely every used weapons, but carried Tessens, war fans, with sharp blades in case her element became disabled or she needed to fight without it. One of the strongest members of the Elemental Alliance. (Mother of Morro)

Aryan, the Master of Smoke, and known as the Ghost Samurai, for his ability to turn himself to smoke and travel quickly made people believe he was a ghost. A samurai that teamed up with the Elemental Alliance, because they were being threatened by the Emperor of Ninjago. Wore black armor and had a sword passed down to him that was still as sharp as the day it had been forged. (Father of Morro)

And Garmadon.

I wanted to do a series about how Elemental Masters weren't trusted or revered until recent years and that's why Morro never used his Element on the streets. It would show the Emporer basically deciding he wanted all elemental masters dead, not understanding very well that the elements would simply pass on, and sent out his army creating a period of war and strife.

A lot of the secondary Elemental Masters stayed in hiding with Wu, who did not wish to fight, while Garmadon led his own group to fight back and try to force the Emporer to leave them alone.

The main characters though would be Eteri and Aryan, Morro's parents, and we would see what happened leading up to him being 'abandoned' in Jamanakai at the base of Wu's Monastery. I thought it would be interesting to explore if his parents did not actually abandon him but circumstances happened and he ended up alone.

Parts of the story would flash forward to when Garmadon is talking of his old friends, finally sharing the information all of the ninja wanted before revealing Morro's parentage. (He's there because he's trying to redeem himself.)

So, what do you think?

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sbjnirmalproducts1997 · 9 days ago

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Why SBJ Nirmal L Type 14x57 Rotary Hoe/Blade is the Ideal Choice for Farmers

When it comes to preparing soil and ensuring crops have the best start possible, farmers know that quality tools make all the difference. The right rotary Hoe/Blade can mean the difference between smooth soil preparation and days of unnecessary struggle. That’s where SBJ Nirmal L Type 14x57 Rotary Hoe/Blade comes in. With its efficient design and high-quality materials, this blade is made to withstand the challenges of modern farming. Let’s dig deeper into why this blade is so special and what sets it apart in the world of agricultural tools.

What is a Rotary Hoe/Blade, and Why is it Important?

A rotary Hoe/Blade is a critical part of a rotavator, a piece of farming equipment used to break up and aerate the soil. In simple terms, a rotary Hoe/Blade spins into the ground, digging up soil to prepare it for planting. This process helps improve soil structure, aerates it for plant roots, and controls weeds—all vital aspects for healthy crop growth.

The L-shaped design of the SBJ Nirmal 14x57 blade makes it especially effective at penetrating soil. Its unique shape allows the blade to dive deep into the ground with each pass, giving a more thorough till. Whether you’re dealing with compact, rocky, or sandy soil, this blade is built to handle it. Many farmers appreciate this blade because of its ability to handle different soil types without losing efficiency.

Made from Boron Steel: Built to Handle Tough Jobs

One standout feature of SBJ Nirmal L Type 14x57 Rotary Hoe/Blade is the boron steel material it’s crafted from. For those unfamiliar with boron steel, it’s a high-strength steel alloy that includes a small amount of boron. This might seem like a minor addition, but that tiny amount of boron gives the steel incredible strength, hardness, and durability. Farmers benefit from boron steel because it makes the blade tough enough to withstand harsh soil conditions.

Here’s a bit more on boron steel’s advantages:

High Hardness and Strength: Boron gives steel an extra level of hardness and wear resistance. Since farming equipment often takes a lot of punishment, this extra hardness is a huge plus, meaning less wear and fewer replacements.

Resistance to Abrasive Soils: In areas with rocky or gritty soil, blades can wear down fast. Boron steel holds up well against abrasive materials, allowing it to dig deeper and last longer than standard steel.

Great Flexibility: Even though it’s hard and strong, boron steel maintains a level of flexibility. This balance is crucial since overly rigid materials can break under heavy stress, but boron steel can bend without snapping.

With boron steel, SBJ Nirmal blade provides a mix of strength and endurance that most standard blades lack. Farmers who use it report longer life spans for their blades, reducing the need for frequent replacements.

Powder Coating: Protecting the Blade Against Rust and Wear

On top of using durable boron steel, SBJ Nirmal adds a powder coating to its L Type 14x57 Rotary Hoe/Blade. This is a special process where a powder made of resin, pigment, and other particles is applied to the blade’s surface, then heated to form a strong, protective layer. The result is a coating that protects the blade from rust, moisture, and other weather-related damage.

Powder coating is an important feature for a few reasons:

Rust Resistance: As any farmer knows, equipment that stays outdoors is prone to rust. The powder coating provides an extra layer of protection, keeping the blade rust-free and extending its lifespan.

Weatherproofing: From rainy seasons to dry spells, farm equipment faces a range of weather conditions. Powder coating prevents moisture from seeping into the metal, so the blade doesn’t corrode or degrade.

Easy Maintenance: Powder-coated blades are much easier to clean, requiring only a quick rinse to remove dirt or mud. This saves time for busy farmers who want reliable, low-maintenance equipment.

Key Benefits for Farmers Using SBJ Nirmal 14x57 Rotary Hoe/Blade

So, why do farmers trust this particular blade for their rotavators? Here are some of the top reasons this blade has become a popular choice:

Efficient Soil Penetration: The L-type shape is optimized for soil penetration. Its angled edges dig in smoothly, so the blade can handle dense soil without wearing down quickly. This shape also makes it easier to prepare seedbeds with fewer passes, which is a big time-saver.

Versatility Across Soil Types: One major benefit of SBJ Nirmal L Type 14x57 blade is its versatility. Farmers use it successfully on everything from clay-rich soil to sandy ground, as well as rocky areas. This versatility means farmers don’t need different blades for different fields.

Cost-Effective Over Time: Since it’s built to last, this blade is a good investment. The initial cost may be a bit higher than standard blades, but over time, farmers save on replacements and repairs. For those managing large areas or frequent tilling, this long-lasting blade proves especially economical.

Low Maintenance Requirements: With the combination of boron steel and powder coating, this blade is tough and easy to care for. It can handle wet, muddy fields without rusting or degrading, meaning it’s always ready for the next job.

SBJ Nirmal: A Brand Farmers Trust

SBJ Nirmal Products has earned a reputation as a reliable supplier of high-quality rotavator parts. The company’s commitment to quality is clear in every part they produce, especially in their L Type 14x57 Rotary Hoe/Blade. They’re known for their consistent focus on durability and performance, ensuring farmers have tools they can rely on year after year.

In the end, SBJ Nirmal L Type 14x57 Rotary Hoe/Blade is an ideal choice for farmers looking to optimize their soil preparation process. It combines strength, resilience, and smart design, all essential features for today’s agricultural needs. By investing in a blade built to last, farmers can spend more time focusing on their crops and less time worrying about tool maintenance.

#Rotary Hoe Blade #SBJ Nirmal Products #L Type 14x57 Blade #Boron Steel Blade #Powder Coated Blade #Durable Farming Tools #Soil Preparation #Rotavator Parts #Agricultural Equipment #Farming Efficiency #Rust Resistant Blade #High-Quality Rotary Blades #Long-Lasting Farming Tools #Efficient Soil Cultivation #Weed Control Blade

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64yrsold · 2 years ago

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intro / set3

cw: 18+ knife . . . . slutty.

“How was your day, baby?” he asked, scrubbing away at the dishes in the sink, “Let me hear it, you’ve been so quiet this evening.”

“It was good,” I leaned against the counter, watching his hands work soap against the plates from dinner.

“That’s all?” he placed a plate on the drying rack, water dripping off his hand. He grabbed my most-used knife, the familiar handle fitting his hand better than mine. He submerged his hands in the sink, his forearms flexing as he wet the knife.

“Yeah, just good,” I took a shaky breath, and his eyes flicked towards me knowingly.

“You alright?” he frowned, dropping his gaze back to his busy hands. He squeezed the sponge against the knife, coating it with soap as he cleaned it. The tendons crawling up his arm flexed with each movement, shadows drawing lines on the inside of his wrist.

“I’m alright,” I nodded, greedily watching him turn the knife in his hands, “Be careful with that.”

“I’m careful,” he frowned, tossing the knife in the air suddenly. I watched it spin, his hand closing around the handle as it landed perfectly in his palm.

“Don’t do that,” I breathed, earning an intrigued smile.

“Do what?” he taunted, bringing the blade to his mouth. He paused to smirk against the metal, watching my heartbeat in my neck. He dragged his tongue along the flat edge, tilting his head back to look at me through heavy eyelids.

“Baby,” I groaned, feigning frustration.

“Am I making you nervous?” he pouted, snaking a wet hand around my waist. He pressed a cold patch into the middle of my back, soapy water seeping through my t-shirt.

“No,” I stated through parted lips.

“Something else?” he spoke, voice crackling against my ear.

“No,” I lied, letting him spill honey kisses down my neck.

“You can tell me,” he pulled back to study my expression, holding the knife upwards casually, “You like this?”

“I…” I swallowed, cheeks burning. His thumb pressed into the corner of my jaw, his head tilted as he smiled.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured, pushing me to the cold marble of the kitchen island. “Sit up there for me.”

I was still for a moment, watching his dark eyes curiously. He gave me an encouraging nod, and I hopped up to sit on the counter. He placed the knife between his teeth, winking with a laugh as he unbuttoned his shirt. He threw the powder white fabric at me, watching me discard it to the side through hazy eyes. He leaned in close, my muscles tense as the blade glinted in his mouth. He tugged my jeans down my legs, kicking them across the kitchen when they hit the floor. He took the knife from his mouth, thumb stroking the handle.

“Lay back, darling,” he instructed, his hips spreading my legs. I bit my lip, giving him a stern glance. “I’m behaving,” he held his hands up innocently, although the knife contradicted any pure intentions he might have had.

“Be careful,” I warned, leaning back against my elbows, “If you cut me-“

“I couldn't,” he tilted up my chin with a curved finger, “I could never hurt you.” I struggled to swallow against the heat in my throat.

"You could on accident."

He shook his head slowly. "No accidents."

My lips were numb, and failed to form any further excuses.

"You gonna relax for me?" he whispered, a smile edging into the corner of his mouth, "How about you close your eyes?"

I took a final, thin breath, and let my spine roll flat against the countertop. I glanced briefly at the light reflecting onto the ceiling from the blade turning in his hand, then shut my eyes. He exhaled, something between a laugh and a sigh, a hand skimming the side of my thigh. Something cold and flat pressed against my skin, just above my knee. I held my breath, knowing what it was.

"Inhale," he murmured, dragging the blade slowly up my leg, "Unless you want to pass out."

"Fuck off," I took a breath, hiding a smile with the back of my hand.

"Thought you weren't nervous," he said, the cool metal grazing my hip, "Where's all your confidence gone, baby?"

"Fuck you," I opened my eyes, watching him grin with blurred vision.

"You want to?" he slipped the knife under the fabric at my hip, nodding encouragingly. I blinked, staring at him stupidly. "Say anything, I'll stop." He stared down at the black lace covering the knife, flicking his wrist suddenly and cutting the fabric with a dull rip. I let my mouth hang open, watching him wet his bottom lip.

"Always wanted to do that to you," he moved the knife slowly to my other hip, slipping it under the fabric and jerking upwards, leaving the garment hanging loosely over me.

"Always?" I managed, letting a pathetic laugh fall from my watering mouth.

"At least since you gave me that look five minutes ago," he waved the knife in circles in front of me, watching my eyes follow the tip of it. He pressed a finger to my sternum, pushing me flush to the counter. I hadn't noticed that I had sat up, eagerly watching him slice off my underwear. The cold marble was a relief.

He hovered over me, heavy eyes fluttering as he watched me gasping slowly under him. My breath hitched as the snuck the blade under my shirt, his knuckles brushing over my bellybutton. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, so gentle it could have been a memory. My heart was banging in my chest, echoing in my eardrums. I breathed uncomfortably against the knife he held under my shirt, hands going cold and numb. Maybe I would pass out.

"I really like this shirt," I whispered, and he smiled sickly.

"Stay still," he breathed, tapping my sternum with the back of the blade. This sent a rippling chill down my arms, steeling my lungs and solidifying my ribcage. "Good," he brought the knife upwards, so it tugged against the front of my shirt. He watched my wide eyes with a grin, the fabric slowly unraveling around the point of the blade. He sliced the shirt open, collar to hem, standing tall to admire the parted sea in front of him. "I like it better like this."

"That really wasn't safe," I stuttered, hands uselessly grasping against the slick marble. He pulled the pathetic remains of my panties off of me, shoving them deep into his pocket. I raised an eyebrow, cheeks prickling at how exposed I felt.

He shrugged, "Did you want to keep them?" I pressed my lips together, holding back a sigh. "Hold this a sec," he smirked, coaxing my mouth open with a thumb on my chin, and placing the knife carefully between my teeth. I bit down forcefully, frowning as my heart thrashed against my chest. He bit back a smile, slipping my arms out of my ruined shirt, letting his palms drag over any exposed skin.

"Fuck," he muttered, irises black and begging. I propped myself up on my elbows, feeling more confident with the knife between my own teeth. "Fuck, you're hot."

I grabbed the handle of the knife, holding it loosely. My mouth tasted like metal and soap. "Your turn?" I grinned, gripping the handle firmly now.

He paused, then took a deep breath, "It's only fair."

#matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #64matty #Spotify

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a-lonely-dunedain · 2 months ago

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29 and/or 59 for celeair?

#29 "Electrocution/Shock" and #59 "Storms/Weather"

oh hehehe yaay yippee I get to make Celeair Suffer through improbable circumstances! my favorite! I get too giddy about this sorta thing which is why I'm certain my characters would hate me if they were real

(also I didn't manage on working 59 in here all that much but when I do the followup to this it'll probably be present) (ALSO also, I couldn't help myself and had to work in #26 "Helpless/Motionless/Paralyzed" and #100 "Chase/Hunted". yeaaaaah Celeair's really Going Through It huh.)

Well this was certainly a fine predicament Celeair had gotten himself into. Alone in the now-abandoned herd lands in southern Trum Dreng, cornered by a small group of Dragon Clan raiders.

These alone might not have been such a deadly threat, for while he does not fight he still has a number of useful tricks up his sleeve. It is an unusually dark night, it smells like a storm is brewing and thick clouds veil the moon and stars, so a flash of blinding light and the sound of footsteps running in the other direction while he hid behind a rock should normally be enough to stun and distract his pursuers, allowing him a quick escape.

But, it is not mere raiders he must contend with here, and the massive Worm they brought with them will not be so easily tricked. There is an evil sort of cunning in its eyes, and there is something else wrong about it too.

It is of a breed he has never seen before, instead of the rusty umber and gold scales these beasts usually have, it is pure jet black, and the only reason it does not blend entirely into the night is because its entire body is streaked with bright jagged lines of cyan and cobalt, he could swear they emit a light of their own. It is also missing the distinct red warpaint the Dragon-Clan typically adorn their beasts with, and the only marking it bears is a large imprint of a white hand at the base of its tail.

“Well well, what do we have here?” their leader steps forward, casually brandishing her blade “a lone trespasser on our rightfully won lands? We were here to hunt Stags to become thralls of Isengard, but it looks like we’ve found a different kind of sport!”

“Sport? oh I think you will find little of that, as you can see I am unarmed” he calmly holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender, though what they cannot see is that hidden between his fingers is a small amount of fine grey powder. All he need do is snap his fingers at the right moment and it will cause a loud ‘bang!’ and a bright flash of light. “If it is a fight you are looking for I’m afraid you will be disappointed.”

“We’re not picky,” she shrugs “if we can’t find a fight, slaughter will do.”

He internally curses himself for insisting to come here alone, but it seemed a reasonable choice at the time. There is a rare herb called Cloudwort that grows only by the banks of this river, and it is needed for an antidote to a new kind of poison the Dragon Clan had been coating their weapons in. Already many people of the Stag Clan were suffering from its effects, and would likely succumb to it soon if nothing was done. They knew that the Dragon Clan still lurked around the ruined farmsteads, and he thought that, rather than risking any of their few remaining warriors in open battle, it would be better to slip in and out undetected. It was a calculated risk, but none of them had accounted for this new gift from Saruman the raiders had with them.

But it’s not hopeless, Margim knows he’s here. She was staunchly opposed to the idea of him coming alone, and as a compromise they agreed that she would remain hidden nearby in the event that something went wrong. She will come for him if she senses anything is amiss. If he can just stall for long enough...

“If it is prisoners you are after, I will go quietly.” He doubts they will entertain that idea, he gets the distinct impression they are out for blood, but it’s the best gambit he has to play at the moment. Anything that might stay their weapons for a little longer.

“I’m afraid you are out of luck, Duvoidaid,” Their leader shakes her head with a cruel smirk “The Wizard asked us to bring him those of the Caru-Lûth, he never said anything about lost southerners, so you’re starting to look an awful lot like Worm food... isn’t that right, my pet?” she looks at the black Worm beside her, but it shows no reaction to her words, its eyes remaining fixed on Celeair with an unsettling sharpness. He realizes it hasn’t blinked once. What did the Wizard do to this poor creature?

“But I might as well make this interesting,” she continues “I’ll give you a five second head start.”

“What?”

“Four,” well so much for stalling.

He’s barely made it a few yards down the winding paths of the once-farmsteads before he hears a rumbling hiss and lumbering footsteps close behind him. She definitely did not give him the full four seconds. As he sprints he holds his hand out behind him and snaps. There is a BANG! and a flash of violently dazzling light. He casts the briefest glance behind him, and is both unsurprised and disheartened to see that the Worm was totally unaffected by it, and it swiftly lumbers after him mouth agape, driven by instinct rather than sight.

But the more important thing is that sound surely alerted Margim to his peril, he just needs to hold out until she makes it to him. Easier said than done of course, something with proportions like that has absolutely no right to move so swiftly, and yet-

Celeair notices he can see his shadow in front of him, quite clearly despite the darkness. There is a bright, blue-tinted light growing behind him, and a strange crackling sound. He barely has the time to process this information before something in the back of his mind screams get out of the way.

Immediately he throws himself to the side and into the cover of a ruined farm building. In that same moment there is a crack of thunder and a flash of light shoots past, missing Celeair only by a slim margin. Something explodes where the blast landed, but he cannot see where. He doesn’t have time to wonder what on earth that was.

Just as he staggers to his feet the Worm’s head rounds the doorway, and Celeair realizes that he is cornered. He frantically looks for a means of escape, but then sees that the Worm’s mouth has begun to glow again as little arcs of lightning fizzle between its teeth.

Of course it can breathe lightning. Why wouldn’t it breathe lightning.

He knows that it is possible for those learned in the lore of nature to channel the power of lightning, he had read about some methods for it in his studies, but it is not something he ever practiced himself. There was never a need for it before, he never wished to harm anyone with such powers, and he never expected to encounter something that could use it against him.

But here he is, staring down the maw of this great Worm as it crackles with lightning. It was by sheer dumb luck that it missed its first strike, but it will not do so again. He has but a split moment before its attack is fully charged, and in that time all he can do is grab a nearby burnt wooden rake -it will have to do as a staff for now- plant it into the ground with both hands, call upon what fragments of the technique he remembers, and brace himself. If he can, he must channel as much of it into the ground as possible, and maybe, just maybe it will be enough to save him.

A flash of light, a crack of thunder, and then the very core of his being in engulfed in searing agony. There is some small mercy in the fact that he is almost immediately rendered unconscious, but it is only a brief respite.

He awakes mere seconds later, collapsed on the ground with the remnants of his makeshift staff scattered around him in splinters and the smell of burnt flesh in the air.

His plan worked, he’s still alive. Barely.

He feels as if he is burning from the inside out, his hands and arms feel like they are being shredded by white-hot razors, he can barely remember where he is over the pounding in his head, and is completely paralyzed. He feels as though he should be more worried about that last part, as through the pain he dimly recalls that he was being chased by something. There is a shuffling sound drawing near him.

With some effort he manages to get his eyes to focus, and the great Worm crawling towards him comes into view. He tries to move, to cry out, to do anything at all, but his body heeds none of his commands. He can do nothing but watch helplessly as the Worm calmly approaches its next meal, seeming to be in no particular hurry as he can no longer run from it.

The thought enters his mind that, in a few minutes or so, Margim will have to discover him half-eaten by this thing. Of all the ways he could die this is a particularly grisly end, and he wishes that she would not have to see it. He wishes he could apologise to her for it. And for getting himself killed.

It is difficult for him to follow what happens next. Just as the Worm prepares to bite down on him, he thinks he hears the sound of footsteps running up behind it. There is a blur of movement, the sound of a mace cracking bone, a pained hiss, another blow, and a spray of hot blood.

Soon after, he feels himself being gently lifted by strong hands and hears a familiar voice calling out to him. He can’t really make out any words, and his eyes already drifted shut without him noticing, but the voice makes him feel safe, so instinctively he knows it’s Margim.

Her tone sounds uncharacteristically frantic. He tries to say something, to tell her that he’s alright -even though he’s not sure it’s true- but all he manages is a pained wheeze.

Soon he feels movement again as Margim stands with him still held securely in her arms. Consciousness slips away from him and he knows nothing more.

Celeair is Fine and Ok don't worry. or at least he will be later lol (also I feel like the very last ask I got should be able to tie into this rather well so expect a short followup at some point wherein Celeair has a slightly less bad time)

#Taz's foray into writing #lotro fic #lotro oc #Celeair #Margim #Celeair might have almost died horribly but the important thing is *Almost*#it sure is a good thing he has a strong and protective girlfriend huh #everyone give Margim a round of applause for being so cool #lotro

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m4gp13 · 1 year ago

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I wish demigods got to use/make weapons that had more to do with their godly parents whether it be a weapon they were known for, a symbol of theirs or something to do with their powers

we've all seen art of Percy with a trident made of water but like, imagine a child of Demeter running around with a knife made of thorns or some thorny vine wrapped around their hand like spiked brass knuckles, or a child of Hephaestus making some ungodly weapon never before seen, possibly infused with fire magic (I hate to bring such stuff into my well-catered space, but if you've read it think of Aelin infusing her sword with fire magic in Kingdom of Ash), or Thalia making a lightning spear that looks similar to the lightning bolt/javelin in the movie, or (something I've seen floating around before) children of aphrodite mixing powdered celestial bronze into acrylic to make claw-nails or even just using celestial bronze claws as acrylic nails.

Or, another thing that would be really cool, demigods using spoils of war from monster they've killed or parts from their parent's sacred animal as a weapon. Imagine if Percy got his minotaur horn made into a knife that he used throughout the series. It could have a been a good signifier of his growth, made his rematch with the minotaur more impactful by having Percy kill it with the horn he got from killing it the first time and he could have given it to Annabeth when she lost her knife in Tartarus.

Also, imagine something like the Athena kids using owl talons as something like a bagh nakh, or Ares kids using boar tusks as spear tips, or characters using fangs/claws from hellhounds for a similar purpose, or characters (i.e. Ethan) using poison from creatures like the gorgons or drakons to coat their blades or even characters like Ethan using the venomous fangs from a hydra or a drakon as a weapon, or people using scales from drakons or dracaena as armour or maybe on a shield, or Percy keeping and actually using his impenetrable nymean lion hide after it did fuck all in TTC.

I feel like the pen-sword and invisibility hat in TLT set up the idea of creative and unconventional weapons in the series but that thread was dropped as the books went on and the creative weapons that did show up were kind of lacklustre (see: Jason's coin-toss spear/sword that showed up like three times in TLH before getting broken and replaced with a regular ass sword) so it would have been nice to see a bit more out-of-the-box thinking when it comes to materials that were used as weapons. There was a hint of it coming back with Annabeth's drakon bone sword that she got in Tartarus and barely used after that.

#pjo #percy jackson #hoo #pjo hoo toa #I didn't want to mention other ideas for the transformative aspect of weapons that were introduced #because I know aroaceleovaldez has already made some cool posts about that #also #because it's kind of my brand at this point #GiveEthanNakamuraAWhip2023 #Q

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illyrian-dreamer · 2 years ago

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Frozen Flames (Part 1)

Lucien x Reader

Chapter summary: As you make your way through the Forbidden Forest of Winter Court, you spot a familiar red-headed High Fae searching for a Solstice tree.

Series summary: After fifty years trapped Under the Mountain, you struggle to adjust to your new found freedom as Kallias’s third-in-charge to the Winter Court.

In an unlikely circumstance, you meet Lucien Vanserra.

As you and Lucien grow closer, dealing with the loss of your mother and trauma from Amarantha’s reign proves harder than you thought. How will you start to trust and love again?

Ok here we go – Lucien series kicking off with Christmas/Solstice vibes because TISS THE SEASON BABY! 🎄

Shout out to @kennedy-brooke for inspiring this story! 💕

I hope you like this meet-cute for our new main character. More parts are being written – comment to join the tag list :) 🦊🍐❄️🔥

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence and trauma

Word count: 1,859

Part 1:

∇

The cold air filled your lungs before it hit your cheeks. It didn’t matter that the sun shone above you, it was two days before Solstice in Winter Court – the coldest time of year.

You brushed your hand against the tall pine trees, their scent bringing back memories of your mother. You longed for her presence, to hear her voice call you as your boots dragged through the trail of snow she left behind, just like when you were young. If you closed your eyes, you could almost hear her.

Your eyes shot open. What you heard were footsteps.

Your heart began to pound. It wasn’t a rationale response, but everything had changed since Amarantha’s rule. Instinct had you scaling the tallest tree you could find as you hid on a sturdy branch, drawing your arrow and aiming at the direction of the sound.

A short way down the path, you saw a flash of red. You squinted, trying to focus on the movement. Was it a fox?

A few moments later, you made out the shape of a male. He was High Fae, that you could tell. He wore an emerald coat with black boots and gloves, his bright hair half pulled back from his deep golden skin, the rest of it sprawling against his broad shoulders.

You recognised the male from Under the Mountain. You hadn’t known him during the fifty years you spent trapped there, but remembered his face during Feyre’s trials. You kept your weapon pulled, your eyes stalking him past your arrow as he walked closer towards your hiding spot.

He stopped close by, sizing up a small tree he faced, his back towards where you hid. The male then withdrew a blade from his coat. You pulled at your bow even tighter at the sight of the weapon.

He flexed his arm, pulling the weapon back, readying to swing at the tree.

Anger flashed in you – how dare he harm the forest. He did not belong here.

“Stop!” you yelled, words escaping you before you could think twice.

The male stopped, spinning around as he searched for you. You could now see a russet eye that sat deep within a long scar whirling as he looked frantically. The eye spotted you before the rest of him, his face now one of shock. Your heart fluttered – you had forgotten how handsome he was.

“Who are you?” you demanded, aiming your arrow at him.

“Who are you?” the male countered, cocking an eyebrow.

You shot an arrow just before his feet. You didn’t want to harm him, but you were not playing games. He had clearly travelled from elsewhere, and you didn't appreciate the threat to your court.

The male didn't flinch, instead he stared at where the arrow stuck to the snow, before looking up at you and smirking. He let his blade drop to the ground, the silver piece sinking into the cold powder. He raised his hands in a calm surrender.

“My name is Lucien. I mean you no harm.”

Right.

“What are you doing here?”

Lucien raised an arm to the pine tree behind him. “I’m here to collect a tree for Solstice.”

You blinked in shock.

“So you travelled to the Forbidden Forest of my court to do so?”

“I heard there is the best crop.”

You could have rolled your eyes. Tourists.

You huffed, letting go of the branch you perched on and making a graceful landing into the snow.

“There is. But it isn't yours for the taking.”

Lucien’s face was one of mild amusement as he took in the site of you. “And that is worth shooting an arrow for?”

“I would have shot earlier, but I thought you were a fox.”

Your comment was meant to upset him, but Lucien tilted his head back and laughed. “I have been described like that many times,” he admitted.

His demeanour was friendly, relaxed, but you were unconvinced he wasn’t a threat. You sized him up – should you need to escape. The male was a fair bit taller than you, and muscular beneath his coat. You wouldn’t have much chance to outrun him, but you did have your bow and arrow.

“And who might you be?” he asked, eyes boring into your own, the russet one finding its place. You shifted, uncomfortable at the intensity of his gaze.

You eyed his weapon, still sitting in the snow. He would only have to reach for it quickly…

Lucien caught your eye movement, letting out a soft sigh.

“I can assure you I mean no harm.”

“Except to that tree,” you countered.

“I wouldn't have taken you for a conservationist,” he grinned, nodding his head to you fur lined coat.

Prick, you thought, willing your face to stay neutral.

He smiled again, knowing he had landed his point. “Fine. To make amends, I will leave your trees unharmed.”

You pressed your lips and gave a small nod, acknowledging his surrender.

“If you won’t tell me your name, can you tell me what a female as beautiful as yourself is doing wondering this forest alone?”

You glared at his words that were clearly meant to disarm you. You breathed in, cold air filling your lungs. “I’m here to harvest pears.”

Picking pears the night before Winter Solstice Eve had been a tradition between you and your mother.

She would dress you in a heavy coat, wrapping you in knits that she had made as she carried you on her back. When you were old enough, you had been eager to shuffle through the ankle deep powder into the depths of the forest, your mother guiding the way.

In the midst of the thicket laid a charming orchard with rows of pear trees, the branches glistened with melting ice. It was a magical sight, and you would delight in playing in the soft snow while she gathered the fruit.

When you returned home, the smell of stewing pears with cinnamon and vanilla filled your home as your mother boiled and baked all kinds of tarts and jams. It was that smell of the holidays.

“Pears,” Lucien nodded, looking at you with curious amusement. “As in the fruit?”

“Yes,” you said tightly.

Lucien looked around, the rows of pine trees spreading tall and far amongst the blanket of snow. He looked back at you with a smirk, as if you were mad to think you’d find pears, and he was pitying you.

You rolled your eyes in frustration. “There’s a hidden orchard,” you explained.

“Ah.” Lucien raised his eyebrows, as if unconvinced. “May I come with you to this orchard?”

“Of course not.”

Lucien let out a soft chuckle while looking down, his bright hair falling in front of his face.

“So be it,” he waved his hand as he stepped around you, picking up his weapon and making back for the path. “It was a pleasure to meet you, beauty in the snow.”

You turned to watch him walk away, stunned by his wit and charm.

“There is a farm for Solstice trees only a few yards from the city centre,” you called to him, unsure of why you offered that information.

Lucien turned, a smile on his face. “I am grateful.” He gave a courteous bow of his head, something of a practiced High Fae. He made for the path again, and you watched him until you couldn't not see him past the thick of the forest.

What an odd encounter, you thought, making your way to your mothers’ orchard.

————

You had stealthily escaped the long corridors of the Winter Castle that morning to make the journey to the orchard. You didn't want to attract the attention of your cousin Kallias or his mate Vivian. While you loved them dearly, this was something you wanted to do in private.

The crisp air flushed your face you made your way through the thicket, your memory uncovering the path with each step. You took a cold, sharp breath in, savouring the way it cooled your lungs. That was one of many things you had missed Under the Mountain – fresh air. You hadn’t had a single breath of it in over fifty years before that human girl Feyre had set you all free.

You thought about her often. Kallias had told you that she now resided in the Night Court with Rhysand. Good for her. You hoped she was able to find happiness, as you were all trying to do.

You made quick work to gather the pears, your sack filled to the brim with glossy green fruit. You took a bite into one as you made your way back through the forest, savouring the juicy sweetness as another memory of your mother bought your hand up to soothe the ache in your chest.

This was your first time celebrating Solstice without her. She had sacrificed herself while trying to hide you when Amarantha’s army attacked.

You were still lived in the cottage with your mother at the time – but as cousin the High Lord of the Winter Court – Amarantha had sought you out. Fighting to protect you against the soldiers that burst into your home was the last thing your mother did, the sound of her scream before her neck was snapped still lived vividly in your mind.

So you had spent fifty years Under the Mountain with Kallias, keeping your head down and doing what it took to survive. You mourned your mother in silence, unwilling to let Amarantha delight in your heart break. Instead, you did your best to not draw attention to yourself. If she knew how broken you were, she’d toy with your sadness for fun, as you had seen her do to others. And if she knew you were a more than just Kallias’s cousin, and were a heavily trained archer, she’d use your skills for her own gain.

Since Amarantha’s fall, Kallias had taken you under his wing, and you found a new home at the Winter Castle, serving duties in his court. ‘Home’ was an understatement, the blue and silver castle stood tall and proud at the edge of the Winter Court village, it’s icy corridors panelled with large glass windows that looked out to the frosty mountains that bordered your court.

You pulled tighter on the heavy sack of pears you lugged on your back, keeping your head down as to go unnoticed as you walked through the village.

You often had to remind yourself that you were free now – free to stroll the cozy shopfronts of the village, free to visit the bars and taverns and sip mulled wine, free to skate the frozen lake.

But you didn't want to do any of that. However, this tradition – the pear picking – that you would do in your mothers honour.

You finally made it back to your room in the castle, dropping the sack of fruit on your floor as a few of the fruit rolled out.

As you peeled off your bow and arrow, you couldn't help but think of the red-headed male you had encountered in the forest, ignoring the part of you that hoped to see Lucien again soon.

————

Part 2 >>>

Tags: @jazmin2211 @timecharm @itscaitymoore

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