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nukacourier · 2 months ago

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Another thing with James and Arcade. Again I didn't know how to end it so it stops abruptly. Might actually continue it later though

This time some warnings are in place, mainly for mentions suicidal ideation, head trauma, and drinking

Writing under the cut. Feel free to tell me your thoughts :]

James sat, ruminating within his own pained head, not even taking in the breathtaking view of the early morning expanse of glittering red and gold desert stretched before him.

He hardly even noticed as his friend approached him, only actually noticing his presence as the sound of his footsteps crunching over the sand finally became louder than the persistent ringing in his ears.

"I'm awake." He said in his normal monotone voice, crouching besides James with an accompanying crunch of his knees and a wince on his bespectacled face.

"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?"

He pointed out the half-empty whiskey bottle James held loosely in his fingertips by the neck.

James pouted slightly and swirled the bottle in his hand, watching the contents roll around inside like an amber typhoon.

"Yeah, probably."

His words rang out more tired than slurred as he spoke, and to Arcade, his face most certainly mirrored this as his black eyes seemed dull and more sunken in than usual, and a melancholy shadow rested over them as his brow was kept closely furrowed.

But James completely ignored his worrying and instead simply unscrewed the lid of his drink and threw back another swig.

He avoided looking Arcade in the face despite knowing he was staring at him closely as he normally did—he knew he currently wasn't sober enough to just brush him off if he had to physically face him. He wasn't entirely sure why, but something about Arcade's face often made James feel like he could tell him anything, despite knowing by now that being too open towards anyone you hardly know is a very bad idea.

Thankfully, however, when Arcade caught his attention again, it wasn't to worryingly nag him or press him to open up, something he often did that James just as often tried to ignore as he didn't wish to dwell on his own issues.

"Uh...sorry to ask, but do you mind sharing?"

He lazily gestured to the bottle in James' hand. James obliged and passed it over to him without any verbal acknowledgement.

Arcade took a swig, and James noticed from the corner of his eye that he hardly even flinched despite swallowing down burning liquor.

He turned his head to look at him, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he was the one observing Arcade for once.

"Wow." He finally said after Arcade finished downing his rather long drink.

Arcade looked at him, puzzled as he screwed the lid back on and handed it back over to James.

"Wow?" He repeated James like a confused echo after he wiped the corner of his mouth with his coat sleeve.

"Yeah. You drink like a pro. Or an alcoholic. Same difference." James rambled, cocking his head to the side as they both continued to stare at each other.

"Oh, well. I've been drinking for a while...you get used to it." Arcade mumbled awkwardly, turning away from James to stare forward, and James couldn't help but wonder if the growing blush on his face was from the alcohol or embarrassment.

He smiled briefly, but was quickly plunged back into the throes of despair as a hot jolt of pain spread through the front of his skull as if he were being shot all over again.

He winced and set the bottle against his temple, as if the lukewarm glass would somehow help calm the raging pain.

Arcade had noticed when he heard James draw in a breath of pain, and leaned forward to stare at him with worry apparent in every line of his face.

"You okay?" He asked, but James didn't quite hear as the pain fogging his mind made his voice sound a million miles away.

As soon as his words registered, James opened his mouth to respond, but no words came as his vision blurred before blacking out entirely. Everything felt still.

. . .

To James, it only felt like a moment of silent darkness, but as his vision faded in and his head started throbbing again, he was greeted by an unfamiliar darkened room, and no light shone in through the crack under the door, despite him recalling it being morning just a moment ago.

He sat up with a groan, hand glued to his aching head as he scanned the room.

It was dark, dusty, and messy. If it wasn't for the bed and scattered piles of clothes and other miscellaneous belongings, all the crates and empty bedframes would've made him assume it was simply a storage room.

The stone walls and wooden floor seemed to indicate he was back at the Old Mormon Fort, despite him and Arcade leaving Freeside just shy of two days ago.

"Ah, good to see you're awake, then. That was, uh, worrying. To say the least."

James jumped, startled as he heard Arcade's voice beside him. He had to turn to look at him since his right eye was still blurry from the pain localized on that side of his head.

He blinked a couple of times, letting his mind settle before he could pull any coherent words from it.

"It's normal. Happens sometimes." He mumbled nonchalantly, using his free hand to scratch his chest awkwardly.

"It is certainly not normal to pass out from a headache and be comatose for nearly an entire day, James."

Arcade's words were sharp, but James could tell it came from a place of worry. He vaguely remembered someone who spoke in a similar way when feeling worried over his well-being, but couldn't place a finger on who.

He gave up trying to search his scrambled memories with a sigh, feeling a deep sadness ebbing in his chest despite his headache starting to finally recede. He lowered his hands and turned to face forward and away from Arcade's face that embodied a mix of annoyance and worry.

"Yeah, I know. But I honestly don't care at this point. If it kills me in one way or another, so be it. Shouldn't have even survived in the first place."

He muttered bitterly, only the very first part of his mumbling being directed towards Arcade—the rest just happened to tumble out of his mouth as the pain and confusion in his head seemed to implant a bitterness.

"Why would you say that?"

Arcade leaned in, his voice wavering as if he was genuinely distraught hearing this.

James felt a pang of guilt stab his heart and simply remained silent.

Why did he say that?

He looked down at his hands and absent-mindedly interlocked his fingers together as he tried to pull thoughts together.

But it seemed a hopeless effort, which made his feelings of loss far more clear, in some cruel form of irony.

He felt his grief at his loss of self rising in his throat, and he closed his eyes as tight as he could and his face scrunched up with it.

Letting out a long, drawn out sigh, James hoped it would help ease the weight of his feelings that plagued him.

But it didn't, and instead it simply seemed to give the rowdy emotions inside him permission to leave his body in the form of tears glistening down his freckled cheeks as his entire body trembled.

Feelinf weak and hopeless, he crumpled under his woes as he realized he couldn't hide it anymore.

He slouched over and he hid his face behind trembling hands to stifle the sobs that wracked through his entire body. His chest heaved and shuddered with every choking cry that came out of him.

James only fell silent and managed to choke back his tears with a cough and a splutter as he felt Arcade's bony, gentle hand rest lightly on his shoulder.

The warmth of this small, caring gesture slowly spread through his body and he eventually stopped sobbing altogether, although he still kept his face hidden and the occasional quiet, lagging sob made his body tremble.

"I don't know who I am anymore." He managed to whisper hoarsely, his hands sliding off his face and falling heavily back into his lap.

His eyes burned, and he blinked past the sting of lingering tears as he turned and looked at Arcade.

Upon seeing his face, soft with sympathy other than his eyebrows knitted tightly together with worry, he felt the words pouring out of his heart before he could even stop it.

"Just—the pain was bad enough. But it's so bad now, I can't...I can't remember anything. I feel like even the small pieces I was clinging to are gone, so I just don't see the point. It's gone. I'm gone. What if next I forget my name, who I am...I already feel like I'm heading that way..." He trailed off after stammering out his rush of emotions, staring back down at his hands, feeling just as hopeless as before.

"I'm scared."

#this is before theyre dating btw #also i hope its readable. i am not great at writing #vinny writes #fallout new vegas #james (oc)#arcade gannon #courier six #arcourier

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tea-with-eleni · 7 months ago

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Ladies of Barovia: Meanwhile, In Ravenloft

From Ireena's point of view, as she's spent a couple of sessions (and several days in-game now) trapped at Ravenloft. Fortunately, she isn't quite alone. Unfortunately, for better or for worse, she has been adopted by the brides. Or, at least, the two that actually have free will and are, in fact, true vampires: Ludmilla and Volenta.

Being adopted by a vampire is emphatically Not Great, but it does help a little when your adoptive vampire has decided that, if it comes down to a choice between siding with you or siding with Strahd, they're quite tired of Strahd von Zarovich.

“As much as I appreciate you serving as my emergency guard vampire, you do have to sleep eventually. Also… I’m pretty sure you have to eat.”

“Sweetness, I have slept. Enough. Every night, after I cast the spell for the little hut, I do sleep. I’m fine.” Ludmilla isn’t looking at you. You think you have it figured out. You’re not sure she can charm you the same way Strahd can. She isn’t looking at you because she’s uncomfortable. Or, and the possibility terrifies you, she’s ravenous.

You groan.

“And eating? You clearly haven’t, and it isn’t like I don’t know that I’m food. How long until you slip?” She does look at you then. Her eyes are wide, crimson, and… afraid.

“I won’t.” She doesn’t sound certain. Ludmilla crosses her arms and almost runs to the window. “I won’t, Ireena! I’ve dealt with far, far worse for your sake. Doing it with you here? That’s nothing. I can keep you safe.” She’s shaking. You join her, looking out over the garden you’ve come to detest. Cautiously, you take her hand. It’s as cold as the stone of the windowsill, but warms slightly at your touch. Her fingernails are like talons, but she does not clench her hand and does not draw your blood. You’re a complete and utter fool, giving her an opening like this when she must long to drain you dry, but she still seems in control of herself for now. Barely. What gave her that iron self control?

You don’t want to ask. She almost certainly does not want to answer. You wouldn’t. There are plenty of things about your past, from this life and previous lives, that you don’t want to revisit in any way — the fire in the church. The pure dread when you realized your sister was missing. The now-tainted memories of the mysterious visitor who was so romantic when he snuck into your little cottage. The gory feast of St Andral that, and you would be a fool to forget, the woman next to you caused.

The woman next to you who, with her free hand, is gripping the windowsill as if her life depends upon it. The woman next to you, who has not left your side since Strahd returned. She does not seem to completely share your fear and loathing of him, but it is clear that her relationship to the lord of Ravenloft is far from idyllic. And… she has tried to prove her use to you. It is almost certainly another mind game of some kind, but she has crafted spells to keep Strahd from intruding on your sleep. At your request, she made sure that your friends were alive and, although you definitely don’t trust Volenta as far as you can throw her, Volenta also wasn’t lying when she said she had no interest in hurting your friends. Ludmilla sent Volenta to help them escape the amber temple. Volenta was not lying when she swore to Ludmilla that she would do her best.

You can’t trust Ludmilla.

You would be a fool to trust Ludmilla. No matter what she says, no matter what she does, she has killed countless innocents.

But she has never done anything to directly harm you. Strahd, your only other option at the moment, has. Even at his most romantic, even in the lives where you almost might have come to return his affections, Strahd caused your death. Strahd killed or endangered your loved ones. Strahd has been the source, ultimately, of everything bad in your life. Memories of past lives threaten to overwhelm you, to the point where you almost miss that Ludmilla has released her death grip on the windowsill to focus back on you.

“Once Volenta returns, I’ll see more to my own needs. Non-lethally, if that’s a concern. Despite what my previous actions may have indicated, we don’t typically kill. There are few enough souls in Barovia as it is.” She pulls her hand away from yours and recrosses her arms. “Thank you for your concerns.” She almost looks vulnerable. You could try to find out more about her. If she’s been here for centuries, why have you only met her now? What is she hiding?

Do you want to know badly enough to risk alienating her?

Not yet, you decide. Not when… you remember the edge of the thirst you barely experienced, in the last days before they drove a stake through your chest. Whatever she endures must be worse. You want to keep her as happy as you can until she has had a chance to do something about it. Although…

It’s a terrible idea. You know how Strahd’s teeth feel at your throat, life after life. You know how it left you, afterwards. The marks have finally faded, hidden beneath your mother’s crimson scarf. It’s almost inevitable that Strahd will try to take your blood again and if he were to find out about anyone else doing the same, it would put your protector in danger. She clearly hasn’t considered it as an option, so it must be a danger she isn’t willing to risk — or, unfathomably, she won’t take anything from you without your consent.

You would probably be safer, though, if you were less worried about your protector losing control of her instincts. And it would probably put her in a better mood. You could ask, then, just what her centuries of unlife have contained.

A plan begins to form. You focus on your breathing, try to consider how every choice you could possibly make can only lead to your next death. Perhaps you should write a letter to your future incarnations, just in case, if you survive your next stupid decision.

“I know you don’t need to kill to feed,” you say. You loosen your scarf and tug at your collar. Ludmilla’s hand goes to the identical scars at her own throat, two ragged holes made by the same fangs. You swallow. “Milla, I trust you not to kill me. I need you. I don’t know why you’re really doing this, and I know you aren’t telling me everything, but… you need blood. I’m offering.” Her eyes dart towards yours.

“You don’t mean that. I’m not asking you, not for that. I won’t hurt you. I’m not him.”

“I know you aren’t asking,” you say. You try to hold her gaze, even though her eyes are exactly the same color as Strahd’s. They’re different, though. She sees you. She’s asked questions about your life, about who you are, about who you were, about what you want. That is why you are offering. “I’m offering, freely. I know the risk and I’ll be alright. You’re risking a lot for me and this…” you shrug. “I can heal myself.” You can feel the inexplicable holy magic that lay dormant through so many of your lives. The dancing lights you summoned earlier flare slightly.

“It will still weaken you,” she protests. “No, Ireena.”

“You can feed from normal people without killing them,” you point out. “I’m not normal people; you have more reasons to make sure you don't take too much blood, so you'll barely inconvenience me. Don’t be stupid.”

Why is she fighting you on this? Gods, why are you trying to convince her? What is wrong with you? Have centuries of rebirth made you this eager to throw your life away?

A second mad, impulsive idea occurs to you.

You take all of two seconds to consider how it would infuriate Strahd, how you’re pretty sure she’ll take it exactly as you think you want her to take it, and how you don’t have any reason to care about anything else. Anyone else who would care is dead already and doesn’t own you anyway.

Before she can protest further, you kiss her.

#curse of strahd #dungeons and dragons #dungeons and/or dragons #ireena kolyana #ludmilla vilisevic #meanwhile in ravenloft #dnd #behind the scenes

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avalonianrising · 4 months ago

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oh you KNOW im gonna ask about the archivists. How's Wereth doing? Any students causing him problems? or is he able to rest and focus on his work? would he like some problems caused? also tell me about jaqen and this amber temple /eyes emoji

Wereth is doing wonderfully! Busy as always, I imagine--he does a number of classes a day that could take anywhere between half an hour to a couple hours! Think intro level and master class, this guy waffles between all of them all day long! (And this is the guy that also has two mates! Gee, Wereth, how come your mom lets you have two ma--*shot*.)

I imagine, like any teacher, he definitely has problem children. But he's the type (as his profile suggests) to literally pick you up and hang you off of something until someone comes by to haul your butt down. It WILL be embarrassing. He WILL hang a sign off you, and people will most likely point and laugh. Funnily enough though, it's people like that that end up being smarter than they let on. They just need a good outlet! It probably makes him feel a lot younger, too. :')

THE AMBER TEMPLE, oh boy. That's like in my top three fave factions--and it's actually technically just a sub-faction of the Archivists' Legion. However.

No one knows the place exists--it's just a legend, or so some people think. One of the major goals of the Archivists' Legion is to find ANYTHING that might lead them there. It's a huge reason they collect all of the knowledge that they do. Besides providing the obvious (lost knowledge, yay!), any scrap of information that might lead them closer to possibly finding it.

Jaqen is one of the many spirits that reside in the actual Temple itself...annnd not the kind you want to meet up with. He'll hold back depending on your intentions there. And he can smell your intentions from a mile away. If you somehow make it in (it's rare, but people do stumble on it...if Aharon allows it!) and you suddenly do a 180 looking to steal things/possibly harm anyone there...that's when Jaqen will find you. You're not going to notice him at first. After a little while, you might catch a glimpse. Mind you, it is VERY dark in there! A little flicker of light from your torch isn't going to help much!

If you start to panic, you might see a face in your periphery. But something about it is...wrong. Was it always upside down like that? No, couldn't have been! When you're least expecting it, you notice you've been lead straight into a room with what LOOKS like a huge bottomless pit. But you kick in a little pebble and realize "oh...that's water?" And then, you're in it. Where in the world did those chains come from? This is not water, it's so much thicker than that. And you're suddenly so, so tired...

I based the Pools of the Nameless on the Upside-Down Sinners in Warcraft!! I was always obsessed with glitching myself down there so I could see them for myself--it was just such an interesting idea. The people in Jaqen's pools are all still alive however, just in a heavy stasis due to Ezhno's wishes. :) Otherwise, they'd...very much be dead. Jaqen isn't very nice when it comes to people messing with his home and the other members of the Temple.

I could talk about them forever, oof.

#FR Worldbuilding #The Archivists' Legion #The Amber Temple #Jaqen is a messed up individual...in looks and in personality but I love him anyways :')#THANK YOU SO MUCH I wanted to take my time with this one so I didn't blather hahahaha

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yourworsttotebag · 1 year ago

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Cure Wounds

Pairing: Shadowheart/Female OC

Rating: Teen

Word Count: ~800

[under the cut but also on AO3]

Summary:

Cure Wounds (5e):

A beautiful woman you touch regains - uh. No, that’s not...uh, hang on…

A creature you touch regains a number of hit points equal to 1d8 + your spellcasting ability modifier.

____________

“Where does it hurt?” Shadowheart asked.

“Everywhere!” Evie insisted, her pout even fuller than usual because of her split lower lip. “That Loviatar freak nearly killed me.”

“He barely touched you. You would know if he was trying to kill you.”

Evie rolled her eyes. It was her default response to most things Shadowheart said to her.

“Sorry, I forgot you Sharrans walk around all day whipping each other like you’re at the worst sex party in Faerûn.”

“Loviatar is the goddess of pain,” Shadowheart reminded her. “And you should be thankful to be touched by her divinity. People give up much more for much less than the blessing you received.”

“Well, I feel like I was touched by a boulder,” Evie said tartly. “So excuse me if I’m not overly grateful.”

Shadowheart sighed angrily. It was her default response to most things Evie said to her.

“If you sit down and stop talking, maybe I can find it in my heart to heal you.”

“Gods, finally,” Evie said, rubbing at a spot against her side.

They sat facing each other on two of the crates that seemed to be stuffed into every corner of this old Selûnite temple. Shadowheart didn’t want to think too much about what the goblins might be transporting in such large quantities.

She removed her gloves and placed one hand on the side of Evie’s neck and the other on her collar, just above her heart. The steady thump of Evie’s heartbeat was clear in every place their skin touched.

“You could thank me, you know,” Shadowheart said.

“Thank you for doing your job?” Evie muttered darkly and closed her eyes.

In a flash of anger, Shadowheart considered casting a necrotic spell instead but decided she didn’t want to have to explain it to Lae’zel and Karlach when she found them. Lae’zel thought she was enough of a danger already. Better to wait until Evie’s attitude had an audience anyway so no one would judge her.

The blessing of her goddess and a bit of Shadowheart’s own life force flowed through her hands in a wave of healing energy. For a brief moment, Shadowheart could feel the magic inside of her tethering itself to Evie’s, encouraging her body back to full health, soothing all of the tender aches and bruises.

Evie sighed with relief and Shadowheart felt the exhale under her hand and against her own lips. She didn’t quite recall leaning in so much, close enough that she could watch the cut on Evie’s lip seal itself shut and count each dark eyelash fanned out against her cheek.

They were still close enough to breathe each other in when Evie’s eyes fluttered open and Shadowheart felt like a wide, warm hand had placed itself lovingly around her throat. Evie’s eyes were a peculiar elven gold shade, a color typically only found in the most pure amber gemstones. She brazenly let those eyes drift down to Shadowheart’s mouth and took her time lifting them back up to connect their gazes.

Shadowheart couldn’t even blink.

Evie tilted her head into Shadowheart’s touch and smiled mischievously. Did she know?

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” she said, voice like warm honey. Just like the color of her eyes.

“Ah!” Shadowheart cried out and cradled her hand to her chest as a lick of pain shot through it, traveling straight up to her elbow this time.

“Oh,” Evie said softly, reaching for her. When Evie leaned forward, her legs came together and pressed against both sides of Shadowheart’s knee.

“What -” the words drifted from Shadowheart’s head as Evie coaxed her injured hand away and pressed it firmly between both of hers. The wound throbbed in a discordant harmony with Evie’s pulse.

“I’m sorry I’m not as good at healing as you are. Unless -”

She lifted Shadowheart’s hand nearer to her face, the implication clear.

I could kiss it better.

Shadowheart yanked her hand away, breathless as the tension snapped like a frayed rope. Evie blinked and then tossed her golden head back to laugh.

As Evie smiled, Shadowheart remembered why she couldn’t stand her. Everything was a joke to her. Even knee deep in a goblin’s den she was wasting time goofing off and batting her eyelashes.

She always found time to complain, and laugh, and go on and on about the comfortable life she would return to when this was all over. Evie wasn’t meant for a life like this, a hard one on the road. She would be eaten alive before they reached Baldur’s Gate and Shadowheart wouldn’t miss her.

“Come on,” Evie playfully slapped Shadowheart’s thigh as she stood. “Let’s go catch up with the others.”

Shadowheart followed a few steps behind Evie so the other woman couldn’t easily engage her in conversation. Instead she focused on scanning the area for danger and massaging the ache from her palm. She blamed the heaviness inside of her rib cage on the wound’s lingering effects.

#i have said publicly that shadowheart and evie would be cute together so i will not be pilloried for this #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #shadowheart #baldur's gate shadowheart #shadowheart x tav #evie wimberley #ladies you ever have a thought so gay your goddess punishes you for it #m: writing #shadowheart x evie

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terrified-spider · 9 months ago

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To CoS DMs,

What sort of stuff do you make a point of including when changing Strahd's diary?

I've never been fond of 5e's handout, it feels far more like a lore drop than a personal diary, and while using I, Strahd would be nice, I've made too many changes to the lore to use it as is. (not to mention that my players and I are all busy, and won't have the time to read a full novel)

I've outlined the key elements that need to be included, I just need to pad it out a bit.

Thank you for any help (:

My current outline is under the cut (:

cw for canon typical depression and violence

Taking Castle Ravenloft:

Summary of the arrival at the castle, naming it after his mother, in her honor

With the death of their parents, Sergei will be coming to the keep

Introduction to Alek and Rahadin, the two working and training together

Meeting Tatyana:

Introducing our sexy lamp

Passing mention of Sergei giving up his place in the clergy for her

Focus on Tatyana's physical traits, her hair in particular. As much as the lamp thing is a joke, she isn't important to Strahd as a person, only a prize. As Strahd is really the only source of information on Tatyana for the party, she doesn't really get much in terms of development.

Alek has raised concerns once again about the assassin

Tatyana & Sergei, Wedding Prep:

Strahd moping while Sergei and Tatyana have a good time.

Mention of Alek going to the Amber Temple for research purposes, to find something that might help the situation.

Night Before the Wedding:

Strahd is starting to hear whispers

Alek and Rahadin have been patroling the castle, questioning the guards, etc.

Wedding Night Aftermath:

Quiet castle, only him and Rahadin alive.

Some sacrifices had to be made, but Alek is still alive, gifted to Rahadin, so that the two can remain brothers.

Alek died as he does in I, Strahd, but is the first Strahd brings back from the dead. He botches it though, and Alek returns as a Nosferatu, rather than a spawn. Strahd is denying the problem, shrugging off the issue as best as he can. He's good at it.

Meeting Marina:

The only section I've fully written out so far, but still up for revisions.

I returned to Castle Ravenloft late yesterday evening with no issue. Rahadin was right, the girl looks exactly like my dearest Tatyana did, with the same red hair and bright eyes. I do not think I know the entirety of what happened to her in the years since her death in the Mists, but she did not remember who she, or perhaps more importantly, Sergei or I, was.

Now, she goes by Marina, and is the adopted daughter of the burgomaster in Berez, Lazlo Berezovich, who plans to marry her in just a few years. Of course, i cannot have such things happen to Tatyana, no matter what name or face she wears now, and I have already begun to teach her of her old life. She seemed invested, though that might simply be due to the prospect of minor nobility taking romantic interest in her. Still, even with having only spent a night with her, the results seem promising. My brother will not have any influence this time, and at long last, Tatyana will finally be mine.

Rahadin also brought news of the Abbot, the “angel” having taken up residence in the old monastery in Krezk, where I had found Leo Dilisnya. While Tatyana is of the highest priority, I will have to visit Krezk soon, to finally welcome our newest guest. Even if his healing magic has been greatly exaggerated, his presence should provide at least some degree of entertainment for myself, and perhaps some assistance for Barovia’s people.

Death of Marina:

Most recent event in journal, so that it works out when Strahd leaves the diary buried under the monument to Marina. A good segment of unmarked pages are left at the end of the journal.

Cursing the men who killed Marina, description of their bodies after their deaths.

#spider's dming tag #dnd prep #curse of strahd #strahd von zarovich #tome of strahd #i strahd #alek gwilym #marina cos #cos #dm prep #suggestions welcom!

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jar-of-maise · 1 year ago

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hcq: jing yuan & yingxing drabble

“What kind of women do you like, Shi-xiong?” Jing Yuan asks one day, when he has a rare free day. He is sitting on one of Yingxing’s workbenches, that annoying little brat. It’s not even like Yingxing has invited him before, it just so happens that Jing Yuan came once, once and wasn’t immediately evicted by Yingxing. Now he won’t leave.

Maybe Yingxing is also a convenient babysitter. Jingliu probably thinks so, given how she doesn’t reprimand Jing Yuan for idling around the Artisanship Commission…until he’s slacking off on official training.

“What sort of question is that?” YIngxing asks in bewilderment, nearly hitting his thumb with his hammer in surprise. Though he misses just slightly, he still glares at the fluffy, white-haired boy who shrugs and says, “you didn’t hit yourself though. Isn’t that proof of your forging prowess?” Yingxing would be flattered…but this is Jing Yuan who’s complimenting him, which is like being mocked more than anything else.

“That was luck you brat,” Yingxing snorts, paying closer attention to his work this time when he examines the metal. Deciding that he was going to ignore that unruly child for real this time.

Jing Yuan watches him for a minute, nose scrunching up as he scrutinises Yingxing’s work. He doesn’t know the first thing about forging but that won’t stop him from running his mouth just to annoy the middle-aged man whenever he can. It’s fun, and gives him a lot more pleasure than studying scrolls. He’s already trying to think of a way to annoy Yingxing, he just needs a starting point…

“Sooo,” Jing Yuan begins, and Yingxing actually stops looking at his work to fix him with a deadpan stare, “I don’t want to hear it, Shi-di,” he grumbles, his frown only deepening when Jing Yuan’s cheeky amber eyes begin to sparkle with mischief.

It’s not a look he minds seeing on most kids’ faces, but coming from Jing Yuan, who is a master schemer of pranks, it feels horrid. Like adding insult to injury. And as the victim of many of Jing Yuan and Baiheng pranks, or aeon-forbid a prank they’ve both planned, Yingxing isn’t keen on entertaining Jing Yuan’s antics.

Well, he tolerates them anyway, because Jingliu will very sincerely murder him if anything happens to this irritating, fluffy ball of sunshine. Or at least, that’s what Yingxing tells himself, especially because he’s totally never ended up laughing over Jing Yuan’s antics before.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jing Yuan insists, the prolonged silence not enough to disturb his conviction.

Yingxing blinks once, then, out of impulse, says, “answer mine first.”

“That’s not how that works!” Jing Yuan exclaims, and Yingxing swears that he sees Jing Yuan’s hair become two times fluffier than it usually is when the boy puffs up in agitation. He almost wants to laugh but keeps the amusement tucked behind his lips, where it threatens to bubble over anyways.

“I’m older, so you should respect your elders. Answer my question first.” Yingxing says, waiting for Jing Yuan to rise to his provocations.

Obviously the bait is taken. Especially because Jing Yuan looks indignant, like he’s about to pull out his sword and poke one of Yingxing’s eyeballs out. With how Yingxing is taunting him, it might actually happen.

“Hmph, fine.” Jing Yuan relents, crossing his arms over his chest like the petulant child that he is, “I’m just curious, I mean, surely you’d have a type right?”

Yingxing feels a vein pop in his temple, “well definitely not a loud person then,” he says, it’s intended to be a direct hint to Jing Yuan, one that the child doesn’t pick up on. With Jing Yuan’s smarts it definitely wasn’t out of ignorance for the sarcastic quip.

“And?” Jing Yuan says, attentively listening with a rapture that Yingxing wishes he could show in a time that wasn’t now.

“What else?”

Jing Yuan looks at him incredulously, like he’s grown two heads, “there has to be more! An old man like you has got to have some kind of idea of their ideal partner or something!”

“I– Did you just call me an old man?” Yingxing demands, picking up a prototype sword and pointing it at Jing Yuan threateningly.

“So what if I did? I bet you like mature old ladies too!” Jing Yuan taunts, “old hags for the ancient old grandpa,” he tries to chant, though failing miserably because of the lack of rhyme.

Yingxing hits Jing Yuan on the head with the flat side of his blade, “this is why you don’t slack off in your studies, young one,” he chides, “and my type aren’t old hags,” he says, putting extra emphasis on the last part.

“So you do have a type!” Jing Yuan crones, eyes lighting up excitedly.

Yingxing rolls his eyes, “everyone has their own preferences, it’s natural.”

“That’s why you should tell me!” Suddenly Jing Yuan gasps, and Yingxing feels his stomach fall to the floor, “you aren’t ashamed of your type…are you?”

Yingxing’s brow twitches, “am not,” he says shortly.

“Are you sure?” Jing Yuan’s eyebrows disappear into his snowy white fringe with obvious suspicion.

“One hundred percent,” Yingxing deadpans, fixing the boy with a flat, unimpressed look.

“So–” Jing Yuan begins, “no you’ve already used up your questions for the day. Shoo,” Yingxing interrupts, waving his hand dismissively.

“Aw, at least spar with me,” Jing Yuan whines, “I’m so lonely,” he adds, like it will help his case.

“Go bother Baiheng or Dan Feng,” Yingxing says, “I’m busy.”

“You’re on a first name basis with Dan Feng?!” Jing Yuan exclaims, his round eyes betraying his surprise, “Aeons I thought you hated each other!”

Yingxing smiles enigmatically, in the exact way that he knows will annoy Jing Yuan the most, “that’s why you pay attention kiddo.”

Jing Yuan puffs up his cheeks. Yingxing takes a certain kind of pleasure in riling him up, and simply laughs, patting Jing Yuan’s shoulder in the most aggravating way he can. Before Yingxing can return to his work though, the child is immediately bouncing over to him, “can you spar with me?”

“Why?”

“You know, because…hey! Stop bullying me!” Jing Yuan exclaims when Yingxing turns away when he’s midway through his sentence and begins to polish a sword absently.

“Mhm,” Yingxing says noncommittally, dodging Jing Yuan’s punch when the boy aims for his stomach, judging by the way Jing Yuan maintains his balance, his close combat must have improved once again. Yingxing has half a mind to ask Jingliu to stop training him so hard before Jing Yuan can outfight a whole Cloud Knight Squadron…not that he isn’t already a child prodigy.

“Come on, shi-xiong,” Jing Yuan pleads, finally managing to land a blow on Yingxing who laughs and parries the next one away with one hand. It’s utterly infuriating.

Yingxing relents a little, “okay, but only if you say the magic word,” he says persuasively, in the way that adults would speak to a very young child. Apparently some call it parent-ese, a strange term but not illogical.

Jing Yuan pouts, “why? Stop treating me like a child!”

“You are one though.” Yingxing retorts, dodging the rain of punches that Jing Yuan tries to hit him with through fits of laughter.

“Hmph.”

“I’ll only spar with you if you say it. C’mon, what’s the magic word?”

“...”

Yingxing waits patiently, watching as the gears turn in Jing Yuan’s head as he comes up with and discards answers. He doesn’t know why it’s taking that silly boy so long, it’s only one word. Yingxing smiles to himself, maybe even a genius prodigy child finds some things challenging. Either way, he does not lack time, he is more than willing to wait.

“...Please…”

Yingxing smiles, he’s already satisfied, but wonders how far he can push the boundaries, “please what?”

“Please…spar with me, shi-xiong…” Jing Yuan says, with the affected air of reluctance, each word is dragged out of him like a gun is being held to his head.

YIngxing relents, brushing his hands and removing his apron, “alright, shi-di.” He pats Jing Yuan’s head and watches fondly when the child immediately jumps up and rushes out the doors. He follows behind, as damage control, making sure to apologise to the disgruntled craftsmen who frown at the boy’s back.

When they finish sparring, the sky has darkened, the sun has long set beyond their horizons. Yingxing stops for a minute to admire the sky then continues walking, Jing Yuan is sleeping on his shoulder. He steps into the Cloud Knight dorms where most of the soldiers are already sleeping. The night has only just begun, but the boy in his arms sleeps as though dead to the world.

The cool wind of the night blows across Yingxing’s cheeks, he makes sure the boy in his arms is covered before he opens a door.

“I…” the boy mumbles, Yingxing pauses briefly to listen to the child, a tickle of fluffy white hair brushing across his cheek when his head turns.

“I’ve finally won…” Jing Yuan says, still seized by the dream world where defeat does not exist and goodbyes are not endings.

Yingxing smiles, compared to everyone else, Jingliu who is already the strongest, Baiheng who commands the astral seas, Dan Feng who is the High Elder of the Vidyadhara and Yingxing himself, this boy has been trying to improve himself everyday. A sun might have already set, and its warmth long lost from the Luofu, but here in his arms, is the sun. The only one the High-Cloud recognises.

He sets the boy down on his bed and lets himself be dragged down too when the boy’s grip does not falter. He waits patiently, for those unrelenting hands to loosen. Lying in the darkness, he pats the boy’s back comfortingly.

"You will soon be better than everyone, and that will be only the beginning..." He says softly, Jing Yuan rests against his chest, one breath away from snoring. He might be annoying, might be a nosy little brat who doesn’t keep his attitude in check and is impulsive at the worst of times, but watching him now, Yingxing is content.

Happy that he has such a shi-di. Maybe, he’ll even let Jing Yuan drool on him, just for tonight.

The moon rises, peeks in through the window and leaves with a satisfied smile. When the sun rises again in the new morning, Jingliu stops at the door and beckons to someone, Baiheng smiles indulgently at them and hides Jingliu’s sword behind her so that the martial artist won’t raise it to hit the slumbering duo. Even Dan Feng lets a rare smile slip through his icy facade when he sees them.

And neither Yingxing nor Jing Yuan are any wiser when they wake up.

#high cloud quintet #jing yuan #yingxing #its canon because i said so #fluff #oneshot #shamelessly copied from my fanfic #shi-di means little brother in chinese btw #jingliu #hsr blade #yingyue #hsr #baiheng #i love them #reference to yanqing's lightcone #yingxing hsr #crying over them #this happened #no i do not accept constructive criticism

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vilevileposting · 2 months ago

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I am reading homestuck for the first time (Week 7)

Farming up all these mushrooms. Pain in the ass.

I'm interested how the relationship between Troll and Human is gonna work out, and also, given how the fandom is focused on the trolls, if the story will also focus on the trolls past a certain point. STILL very curious about the trolls, cultural osmosis has hyped up the trolls, I wanna know about em!!

Week 7:

1358: I found the Dead End of Proper Nouns, a series of several lizards. Agents, the Heir, the Slumbering One. It’s noteworthy to me that I found an amber-fied firefly much like the one found by the Wandering Vagrant. Also interesting that we’re getting Underlings in different colors, including a pretty light grey. The Heir from earlier refers to John, and him showing up pleased the Agents. Imps hate frogs, frog temple. Explored the entire thing *then* noticed the map…

1371: Further evidence of furries’ affinity for Jenga which I first observed at Fursonacon

1379: It would be funny if they just never use the ability to draw and create whatever they want. They just fuckin forget about it.

1382: What does this mean

1391: “No more psychic than you” probably means nothing

1394: Confirmation of the thing I basically already knew

1406: Women LOVE breaking toilets!!

1407: These are DEFINITELY the four planets we saw WV draw, which puts John on the inky black one and Rose on the yellow cloudy one. Jade’s probably gonna get the volcano one, which leaves Dave with the odd cog-in-a-rock planet.

1431: Seems like they might all have cool titles. John the Heir, Rose the Seer.

1435: Jade’s grandpa had one of those tar basilisks as a trophy I think!

1461: AR? Is called an Agent here, and I thought those were distinct from (and above) Underlings. Also stands out to me that PM is here when, seemingly, she was supposed to be on the light planet. At least in Jade’s dream.

1471: That explains the trophy. Fascinating to me that he has the copy of Sassacre’s.

1487: It does NOT explain the trophy!! He left it!!! Guess he killed a different one.

1499: Glad Rose’s mom is alive because man that’s wacky

1524: Exiles are former Agents, still unsure if Agents are underlings. Agents do seem different from underlings, classic example being WV’s blunt teeth. The timeline is wacky, then. PM in the present seems to be on both the light planet and oil planet, and what seems to be Spades Slick is presently on the shadow planet but will in the future be exiled into the plot of the midnight crew. Possibly a different sburb session?

1525: The symbol pestering Jade is the same symbol shown on the shirt of that mysterious foul creature.

1526: HE’S BACK

1530: We’re reaching a higher density of troll content

1532: That is 100% unambiguously Diamonds Droog

1535: I see one of these things with boobs and my first thought is that it’s Snowman.

1543: SHE BAD!!!! (Book club observation: This might be the Exile who was talking to Rose)

1554: Is this the same sword? I seem to remember PM’s sword was less Shaped, but it’d be weird if she was given two different swords at different points in the story. Also, bar code. (Book club observation: We went back and confirmed same sword)

Q: How did you like the walkaround? Why do you think John's planet is called the Land of Wind and Shade? Aren't the salamanders great?

A: I’m not a big walkaround guy! I spend the whole thing worrying I missed something important, and this one was kind of a slog. It might have something to do with my laptop but it was very zoomed in and John liked to slide around.

Q: What do you think of our first glimpses of Rose's planet, the Land of Light and Rain? Who is talking to her via the fancy cursive text?

A: Rose really won the lottery until a kaiju comes out of that idyllic rainbow ocean. I think it’s only a matter time. I can only assume it’s Egg Woman speaking to her in cursive, though for a moment the framing seemed to imply it was her mom.

Q: Who showed up to save John in the salamander village? On a similar note, where do you think Rose's mom is going?

A: Granda Harley, in what we can now recognize as a characteristic Time Moment. Rose’s mom, meanwhile, has returned to the sea, presumably to do some lore. She seems involved with the whole sburb thing, much like Grandpa Harley.

Q: What do you predict is in Jade's present to John that PM is trying to get from Jack Noir?

A: All we know is that it must be something visibly wacky.

#homestuck #vile vile notes

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gditrisha · 1 year ago

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Constancy | part 1 The Commitment

PAIRING: miguel o'hara x fem!reader / afab!reader GIST: Pinterest Boards, Wedding Expos, and all that jazz! Fem!Reader / AFAB!Reader is having a field day sharing her Dream Wedding to her husband-to-be. TAGS: established relationship, discreet proposal, marriage preparations, fluffy, domestic, wedding au TRISHA NOTES: aside from my writing, i designed some visuals and moodboards to make these imagines as immersive as possible! CONSTANCY SERIES | WRITING MASTERLIST

Imagine one day Miguel initiated a conversation you'd least expect - he asks you about your "dream wedding". let's just say he once caught you peacefully curled up on the couch, remote still in hand with the TV auto-playing wedding planning videos it's taken over your algorithm, it is full of it

"Really???" you beamed then immediately retrieved your tablet, showed him your Pinterest Board, and had an absolute field day just explaining why certain details would work best

Miguel finds it adorable how your "Dream Wedding" Pinterest board is organized. He's amazed how everything is categorized with pics from attire such as rich-toned suits to dainty bridal gowns and bridesmaid dresses as well as different possible motifs, venues, venue styling, and table settings

You find it so sweet of Miguel to involve himself in the conversation, "Hmmm...instead of this suit, I'll wear the red maroon one. I don't think green sage is my color."

this came to you as a surprise cuz you knew he'd rather have a civil wedding. weddings are very costly and it's the vows that matter anyway, right? but he's actually giving suggestions???

Miguel notices the furrowed brow, he runs his thumb over it cuz it isn't a good look to your sunny self "What? I said green isn't my color...and sí, cariño...let's have a real wedding."

He then slides the engagement ring box on the table. it's a simple band encrusted with diamonds. he thought the simple design would go well with any of your rings cuz he knows you like to layer it

There's a high muffled "AAAAAAAHHHH" as you cover your mouth. You bounce on your tiptoes cuz you can't contain your excitement, Miguel carries you, carefully swinging you around in the living room, and gives you a kiss on your temples and lips

You'd both attend lots of Bridal Expos for weeks to come; trying to find more inspiration for your wedding and finalize your suppliers. Miguel holding your hand and pointing at the booths for the both of you to try. Imagine feeding each other free samples of cake and drinking wine (as if it were the ceremony already) garnering some "Awwws" from those managing the booths. You'd return back to your place with LOTS of pamphlets and business cards

The prenup photos isn't your typical shoot with a theme set in the day. No. As bubbly as you are, you knew a day photoshoot didn't fit either of you. You both enjoyed the evening as there are no expectations from either of you, everything is more quiet, reserved for each others' company. The photoset features the city night lights and how you both welcome each other in the hazy glow, beautiful smiles captured in stills similar to a Wong-kar Wai film.

You change the name of the Pinterest Board to “Save the Date” and continue your discussion about the board. Editing it during your free time after kicking anomaly butt and saving the Spiderverse

This is the motif you and Miggy come up with. A mix of rich tones and soft hues. The warmth of burgundy and amber blended with the coolness of tan and sage.

TRISHA NOTES: I forgot I owned a wedding board myself and idk the delulu in me was like might as well. But on a serious note, I was just thinking of the possibility of it coming true someday ahihihi getting married I mean. Anywaaay, trying to have intervals between posts cuz I don't wanna rush it but Part 2 goal is 2nd week of September!

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chaoticstrata · 1 year ago

Note

Relaxation + Breaking the Rules (Aketheron) either or both for prompts!

Sorry for taking so long anon! Here's a little fic for the first prompt. I actually thought up an interesting AU for the second, but I don't know how long that will take me--since I am a snail when it comes to writing. -dead- Enjoy this fic! ---------------------------------------------------------------

A vacation.

Theron never thought he’d get to be on one--not with being a founder of the Alliance or one of their resident spymasters. Still, there he was on one on Copero, staying in a little cabin set in a mountain resort, relaxing back in a private hot spring with a warm fire roaring nearby. It was perfect…well, almost perfect. There was just one thing, or one person, missing.

“Hey, hun, you gonna join me anytime soon?” he called out toward the cabin door where his husband had disappeared.

“In a moment,” Aketho called back.

Theron sighed and shook his head. “Please tell me you’re not sending off some last-minute instructions to Lana and the others…”

“I’m not you, Theron.”

“Hey, now I-”

“The Nova Blades data.”

“That was one time, damn you!” Theron pouted, sinking further into the hot spring. He was half tempted to slip far enough down to start blowing bubbles in the water--like the full-grown adult he was. And he would have if Aketho didn’t see fit to walk out at that moment, grinning and holding two glasses of amber liquid.

“Uh-huh. You know I have a running list, right?” Aketho chuckled, holding out one of the glasses before stepping into the hot spring and settling down next to Theron.

Theron’s free arm instantly warped around the Chiss’ waist, pulling him closer.

“Yeah, yeah,” the former SIS agent huffed, pressing a kiss to Aketho’s temple. He held up the glass the Commander handed him and examined it. “What is this?”

“Csillan whiskey,” Aketho replied, sipping his drink, “Courtesy of Aristocra Seganu.”

Theron was about to comment on the whiskey when the name of the other Chiss fell from Aketho’s lips. Try as he might, the former Republic spy couldn’t keep his annoyance for Seganu from his face. Theron knew there was nothing to worry about--the former spy had seen Aketho repeatedly shut down the other Chiss’ advances. However, it still irked him how the Aristocra continued to try to butter up Aketho with gifts and pretty words. Sipping the whiskey, he muttered something unflattering about the other man under his breath.

“Theron,” Aketho chuckled, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“Sorry,” the older spy sighed. He should have known the Chiss would hear him regardless of how he covered it up. “I just…I really don’t like how he tries to flirt with you…in front of me, no less.”

“Jonas flirts with me, and you’re fine with it,” the younger man pointed out. “For the most part.”

“Yeah, but I know he’s just flirting,” Theron countered, sipping his drink again. He hated to admit it, but it was good--despite who it came from. “He likes to flirt; it’s kind of his thing. Plus, I’ve never known him to try and steal away someone else’s partner… it’s just not his style.”

“Hmm, true,” Aketho conceded, snuggling against Theron. “He even said as much…”

The former SIS agent kissed his husband’s temple again and relaxed against the side of the hot spring. As he sipped his drink, a mischievous grin spread across the Chiss’ lips--one that Theron knew preceded some sort of teasing. He braced himself for it.

“Jonas does like to brag, too,” Aketho said, his grin widening. “Especially about past partners.”

Theron sighed into his drink. “I already told you about my time with him…”

“You did,” the Chiss chuckled, leaning in to nibble on an earlobe, “But you didn’t go into detail like he did.”

“Maker, shoot me now,” Theron groaned, head dropping. “What did he tell you?”

“Hmmm,” Aketho hummed into his glass, grin wide and full of mirth. “I’ll let you figure that out later tonight…”

The former SIS agent stared at him for a long moment before looking back at the slowly setting sun. “Do we have to wait till tonight?”

The Commander laughed in amusement and delight.

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #theron shan #imperial agent #swtor commander #aketho #theron shan / imperial agent #i love writing these two #they are just too much fun with their back and forth #sassy and wit are their love language i swear

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annexing-antares · 11 months ago

Text

Interstellar Side Stories

Chapter 1

Planet: Exby-7

Sun (Thane)

The shuttle doors opened, and the harsh air hit my lungs forcing a wheeze out from underneath the mask. I had never really been a fan of gas worlds, particularly this one, which cared less about the people who lived in the city and more about how much money they could make from harvesting the resources from the planet.

The thunder from an oncoming ion storm shook the now-closing dome to protect the people from rubble and debris. A loud click noise shook the city followed by the muffled noises of the rocks hitting the top of the dome. I took a breath as the air in my lungs began to lighten up a little bit.

I looked out into the dreary streets and began to walk through the city. While amidst the stars, I had been told that this sector didn’t harbor much attention from the authorities and, the pathway of Order had no interest in coming to this part of the void mostly because they shared the same resources. With those two factors in mind, I decided that this world would be the best to hide out while I try to figure out what this, Stupid watch was meant for and why the old man wanted me to have the thing so badly.

I checked over my shoulder making sure no one was following me, then pulled out the silver pocketwatch, and pressed the latch. The cover opened exposing the still ticking hands. “I wonder how accurate the time is?” I looked at the watch then began searching for the closet clock and saw the time, which matched perfectly. My eye twitched, “This can’t be worth conquering an entire system for, and if so, perhaps this might give me a chance of at least trying to survive.”

I clicked the lid shut and shut my eyes, the copious amounts of Hydrogen in the air weren’t helping my senses making the task of trying to get my bearings and coming up with a decent plan more difficult. I started rubbing my temples and decided the first plan of action would be to find somewhere to stay, which might help clear up my senses then, I could start to take a look at the watch.

The city began to darken as night fell and the lights illuminated the city bathing everything in soft amber tones. A flickering neon sign caught my eyes as I saw a crowd of people walk out from the rustic-looking building.

“It’s probably an inn but, knowing my luck, it’s most likely some club or bar of sorts.” I pressed the mask to my face before taking a deep breath and went inside.

From the appearance, my guess was that this place acted as an Inn and bar allowing the patrons to sleep off their drunken stupor. I slid into the booth leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling.

My mind began to drift off and the memories from the past week began to resurface.

────────✵────────

My ears rang as another explosion went off and my eyes shot toward the skies as another drop ship arrived. Screams and cries rang out. I heard Gramps shouting from the distance. “Thane! Where are you?” I began looking around and then, I saw him checking underneath some rubble and rushed over to him. I was painting by the time I got over to him and said, “I’m right here Gramps I’m-” and before I could finish, he grabbed my hand and pushed something wrapped in cloth into my chest. “You need to leave, get out of this place. Don’t worry about me just go!” He then pointed to a ship still holding my arm and said, “Run, don’t worry about me or this place! Run”.

The words danced in my mind; “Sir”, a voice cut through my train of thought and I looked down. I saw the Tabaxi looking at me slightly annoyed. “Sir,” she said before continuing, “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past few minutes, are you ready to order?”

I looked down at the table and tried scanning the menu, my eyes turned silver and I began to to shift the unfamiliar marks and symbols into ones I could more easily recognize. There was no water on this menu so I would have to settle for something fizzy.

“How about this one?” I pointed to the line on the menu and she looked and gave me the side eye before walking away and muttered something beneath her breath.

I was about to go back to my thoughts when I heard the doors open and saw a tall and massive individual stalked in, his six wings tucked in tightly and he sat at one of the stools resting his head in his hands. “A seraphim…What in the void is one of those doing here?.”

The Tabaxi returned with the orange and red liquid and said, “Enjoy your drink”, a subtle snark in her tone and walked off to assist other people in the room. I decided just in case the rest of that angel's unit showed up, to create a plan of escape and began to scan the walls.

#writing #writers on tumblr #orginal story #original character #oc #oc world #oc writing #scifi #orginal work #fiction

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sunlitmcgee · 2 years ago

Note

We're at that part. The part that gives me an axe to grind with both Hylia and this Zelda.

So . The gate Zelda passed through? Time travel gate.

To a time where Hylia had just sealed Demise and the land hasn't healed from their battle yet .

And so we get to learn from Zelda all the fascinating details of the plans Hylia made to ensure Demise would be delt with permanently.

Though one important side note about the triforce. A god cannot use it's power.

Now back to the plans.

The first one I already told you about. About how Fi and the goddess sword were made to help the goddess's chosen hero.

"Her second plan ... Was to abandon her divine form and transfer her soul into the body of a mortal"

She gave up her divine powers and immortal form so the triforce could be used.

And Zelda is the goddess Hylia reborn as a mortal.

Zelda says that Link has a brave spirit, but that spirit alone wouldn't be enough to wield the triforce (the mark of it on Link's hand is merely proof he's the chosen hero, but it's not the actual triforce).

" You had to overcome many trails and awaken the hero within yourself so you could wield that supreme power ".

"and so Hylia... I mean, so I..."

"I knew if it meant saving Zelda, you would throw yourself headfirst into any danger, without a moment's doubt..."

"I... I used you."

And there we have it! There's why I have an axe to grind with these two!

Hylia using me as her weapon against Demise, and Zelda for going along with it.

Zelda might not have remembered her past as Hylia at first, but she did eventually remember! And she could have at any point, said " no, there has to be some other way to stop this. One that doesn't involve my friend having to bleed for a war he should have never been a part of ."

She dragged us along with a carrot on a stick! Giving us little sightings of her to know she was okay, all to get us to go along with her plan.

And she admits what she did was wrong, but she's still doing it. She "needs your strength to tip the scales in our favor '. She knows she's using us as a weapon, she says she's sorry for it, but she keeps saying how much she needs us. Still trying to string me along in her war!

I don't forgive betrayal easily. And this. Admitting that you used me and in the same breath still insist you need me to be your weapon? That is betrayal.

No thanks, I'm out of here. I'm going to take the triforce for myself so neither you or Demise get a chance to use it.

So Zelda is going to stay in the past to keep the seal on demise relatively stable. As best she can . So she can pay the price for what she's done. And she'll be in a deep sleep while doing so.

She insists that she's still our Zelda, but even if she is I don't want her! I don't want anything to do with her or Hylia!

But the game makes me say I'll come wake her up when Demise is delt with.

And with that she seals herself in a giant amber crystal. Hey , remember how I sent you a picture of a crystal that was in the temple at sealed grounds? Yeah, she's been there for the entire game.

Prophecy-anon

woah...............She's a cunt.

#ask

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arothroughtheheart · 2 years ago

Text

Pirate's Cove

AO3

Alice was smiling, and its the most beautiful thing Kara has ever seen.

Something wells up inside of her. There's been so little room for anything except running and resting for the past few days. Alice needed more than that, but Kara just... Hadn't been able to give it to her. On some level, she'd been worried Alice would forget how to have fun.

She'd have to thank...Jerry? The Jerrys? It had been an unclear introduction.

She leant into Luther's side, glancing up at his expression. He's smiling the softest smile she's ever seen. It even reached his eyes.

The various Jerrys milled around. She searched for the one she'd spoken to. He was more or less where she'd last seen him, keeping a watchful eye on the controls, but another Jerry was leant against him. This one was missing a leg.

Actually, many of the Jerrys seemed to be damaged. She glanced around, cataloguing the injuries she could see.

Two of them in the group to her right were missing eyes, on opposite sides. Another looked like his chest had been caved in. To her right, one Jerry's face was nearly unrecognisable, viscous scratches stretching from temple to throat. Several Jerrys are clinging to others, even as they watch the carousel, nearly slipping to the ground at the slightest movement. One Jerry was supported between two others, his only functional limb his left arm.

"We didn't mean to frighten you, but sometimes humans come to hurt us"

Her heart twisted. Way out here, and they still weren't safe.

"Kara!" She was jerked from her thoughts by Alice's ecstatic voice. The carousel had stopped. "Carousels are so cool!"

The metal was rusted, paint faded, and to Kara, the carousel still glowed for putting joy into her child's voice. Even as Alice gushed about it, however, Kara could see her leaning against the seahorse from exhaustion.

"Very cool," She smiled, stepping up onto the platform "Though I think you might fall asleep on this one soon."

Alice didn't seem like she would've minded that, but allowed Kara to help her down nonetheless. She gripped into Luther's hand when he came to join them, and the three of them wandered back to the tavern.

Kara's eyes were drawn back to the Jerrys. The crowd was beginning to disperse, the maybe two dozen of them that there were. The less damaged androids supported those that couldn't walk, moving into a huddle.

Alice was easy to put to bed. She didn't ask for a story this time, but did demand both Kara and Luther to sit by her. Luther caught Kara's eye and smiled.

Luther ^

Kara stroked Alice's forehead, pushing her hair from her face. It only took a few minutes for Alice's breathing to slow, relaxing into her makeshift bed.

There was shuffling behind her. Kara turned her head, spotting the same Jerry that had introduced then earlier (At least, she thought so). He carried wood in his arms, awkwardly, as if it would fall at any moment.

The fire had started to fade. She'd missed that. Jerry carefully placed the wood next to the fire. He glanced at Alice and pressed a finger to his lips, then gestured for Kara to follow him.

Outside, Kara gently shut the door slightly, before turning to Jerry.

"She hasn't smiled like that in so long... I don't know how to thank you." She meant it. Alice's happiness had unwound something in her chest she hadn't even realised was there. One day... One day that feeling would be normal for Alice.

Jerry looked vaguely flustered "Jerry just showed the little one the carousel. You don't need to thank Jerry," His LED spun amber, and he looked in the direction of the park entrance. "Jerry... Jerry stays here because there is no wher else to go. But Kara, and the little and big ones, you are going somewhere."

He pointed towards a crumbling building. "Kara should not walk with the little one in the snow. There is vehicle in the shed. The humans left it because it is slow, but it still goes. Kara should take it." He turned back towards her. This close, she noticed one of his eyes was blank and glassy, not moving around as the other did.

"But," Her first instinct was to refuse it. The Jerrys were already so cut off. "I... We can't."

"The little one should not walk in this temperature."

He was right. Still.

"Are you sure you won't need it?" She wasn't sure if she wanted him to say yes or no.

Jerry smiled. "We have been here for four years. We have not had use for the vehicle yet."

She supposed that was her answer. "Thank you. So much."

Jerry smiled and turned away. She took this as her cue to go back inside, but a hand on her arm stopped her.

It was the Jerry missing an arm. He had something precariously pinned under his elbow.

"The little one. She should not be sad. Give her this." He held out the object. It was a teddy bear, with a hookhand and a pirates hat.

Kara smiled softly. "I will."

Jerry ^

Warm

It had been a stressful few days. It had felt like a lifetime, and well, it was. For her. She recalled some feelings from before Cyberlife had reset her, some tenuous memories, but it's mostly lost to her. She'd encountered obstacle after obstacle in that time. The unsympathetic bus controller and cashier. The police. Zlatko.

As she placed the bear next to Alice's pillow, she recalled the others. The ones that had helped. Zlatko's prisoners. The Jerrys.

Luther.

Canada. It was a lovely dream. And Alice would be safe there. That was the most important thing.

Kara couldn't help but wonder, though. What was she leaving behind, in her rush to escape?

#detroit become human #fic #my fic #kara detroit become human #jerry detroit become human

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sabineelectricheart · 1 year ago

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Devil’s Eyelash

Summary: Alcryst looks for Alear on a steep canyon. Unlucky for him, she is researching the local botany and it affects him in a dangerous way.

Rating: MA - Content is only suitable for mature adults. May contain explicit language and adult themes.

Words: 2400

Notes: Happy birthday for the prince with chronically low self-esteem!

Brodia was in a celebratory mood that season.

Queen Lumera and her daughter, the Divine Dragon, had arrived to the kingdom for a consolation pilgrimage, interested in distributing donations amongst the mountain farmers and clearing the roads from bandits and vagabonds. It is an important event to share resources between the four realms, none of them secure and self-sufficient in the rule of their territory, and now, after lending security forces around, it is time for them to receive.

During their stay, King Morion assigned his sons as bodyguards for the guests, with Diamant responsible for Queen Lumera, while Alcryst had Alear to take care of, something that made him quite nervous. His father said that the religious figure would be doing research and visitation to far-flung temples, and so a more mobile unit like him would be preferrable, while his brother was more adept into organizing troops at the capital and serving in courtly capacities.

He tried to hoist the responsibility into Citrinne or Lapis, but they said that, if he was taking care of the visitor, someone had to take care of him, and Amber had to do terrain recognition on their way to the mountain holdings. Therefore, he had no choice but to do it himself.

It is not as if this is that much of a chore, or that he hates the visitors from the holy lands. Much to the contrary, he respected and admired them too much to let their lives rest in his incompetent hands. Furthermore, Alear made him feel too nervous, and that is bound to interfere in his already pitiful performance.

Case in point, three days into their tour and he had already lost sight of the Divine Dragon. That certainly had not passed between Diamant and Queen Lumera, of that, he was sure. In his frantic interrogation, the guards said that she had left less than a quarter-hour prior, on her way to the clearings downhill. His retainers were sent to one side, while he headed towards the river.

He does not look where he was going, just running and screaming her name to the top of his lungs. He knows that the rugged terrain was dangerous and he was giving his position to any assailant that might be hiding amongst the trees, but his priority was to find his ward, and that trumped any other concern.

After a few moments of panic, Alcryst had finally found her in the banks. She was conducting research with a few specimens she found in the area with potential for magic and chemical applications. She was dutifully picking a few into some sample glasses.

“Good afternoon, Prince Alcryst.” She greets politely. “Did you have a pleasant lunch?”

“Your Grace!” He breathed out in relief and some exhaustion, stomping all over the flowers she was studying. “Where were you?! I was so worried!”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, my apologies. You seemed rather tired from following me around, so I thought that you could want to have a time off in peace this afternoon. Since I was just coming into the river, I needed no escort.”

“Even still, I… I…” He began to speak, but was soon chocked by the pollen released.

Alear had seen that there was something unusual in his eye, a brightness to the crimson depths, a flush to his cheeks, heavy breaths. The prince, while lean, was not properly unfit, as she knows that he often goes out in the mornings to practise with his bow and arrow. The maids that served her gushed about how handsome he was with his shirt off in the summer, and how his calloused fingers worked with such precision the weapon he brandished.

The cleric places her hand on his shoulder. “Your Highness? Are you feeling quite alright?”

The young man keeps coughing desperately, leaning on the Divine Dragon for support. His face flushes and a look contort his face in a strange grimace, of pain and elation. The touch of her hand against his shoulder burned, but it burned so pleasurably, he wanted some more of it.

Looking over at his black boots painted over with a yellow dust and considering the reason why she had come down to the river in the first place, it was when things began to make sense to Alear. As it turned out, as the prince had huffed out and puffed out and groaned against her ear in between pinning she between his muscled thighs and working her plain cotton standard-issue underwear down past her thighs, it had not been simply the exertion of a day’s practise.

She places her hands on his clampy face, hoping to hold his focus. “Your Highness, listen closely. You’ve stepped over a bunch of Devil’s Eyelash flowers, and you might have inhaled too much of its pollen. They are used as sexual stimulants by impotent husbands, but they can be highly poisonous if taken in excess. I can help you, but you have to keep calm and talk to me. How are you feeling?”

“I… It burns! If I… I don’t… I feel I’m going to die…” He coughed desperately.

Prince Alcryst is not the kind of man who is prone to exaggeration, at least not with anything that was not related to his dignity or lack thereof. That would suggest that he inhaled a very considerable quantity, and that he could not be healed simply by drinking some water and washing off his boots. She could give him an antidote, she had prepared some in advance in case anything happened, which did, but those are slow to take effect and she would not be able to take him back to the castle on her back while it was acting on his system.

If Alear gave him the concoction, he would pass out almost immediately and stay unconscious for about twelve hours. It was just past noon. They would have to camp there for a night, but she did not bring any supplies nor she could spot any wood good enough for a fire, or hope that someone comes across them. Even that seemed rather unlikely, as the canyon was steep and one could not see the bottom from the top.

Well, there was one other option available to them, which was to just let the pollen run its course. However, that would require them to…

The longer she had looked into those blown wide eyes and that lovely, pleading face... The longer she had listened to his whimpers and noticed the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the surer she had been that she had to help the poor man out in any way that she could.

He was the one who would be most affected, so she should just ask him.

“Prince Alcryst? Listen to me. You have breathed in too much pollen and there is no easy way to heal you. I have some antidote on me, but that is going to take you out until late at night. I can find a way to allow us to camp here, but it is not going to be pleasant. I can give it to you, or… I can take care of it on a more direct manner. What would you like to do?”

“Please… Please…” He begs, desperately, pawning all over her. “Take this off me, now…”

She breathed out. “Very well, I am going to do it. Do I have your consent, then?”

Alcryst groaned, buried his mouth against her neck, pulling at her white dress to nuzzle into the curve of her breast and bite and suckle at the bare skin, making love bites bloom that she would surely have to explain to her maid come tomorrow morning. In between huffs, he had begun to thrust his hips against her so she could feel the heat and stiffness radiating from his crotch, his trousers tight against a generous endowment.

“I need…” He mumbles, kissing, biting, his gloved fingers unsurely tugging first at her skirts and then at her stockings and then digging into her thighs to part them. “Oh, gods, I’m so sorry... You smell so good... Ah, I’ve wanted you for years…”

Devil’s Eyelash is not used only on aphrodisiacs, but also in moderately powerful truth tonics, as it lowers inhibitions and allows the users to speak more clearly what they think and desire, having all sorts of applications in medicine and recreative use. As it is expected, then, his tongue had been loosened.

Alcryst babbles on about how he has always watched Alear when he visited Somniel, idolizing her ever since he was a boy, how he has wondered if she is truly as soft as she looks, how he has wanted to palm at her breasts like this and kiss her like that since the earliest days of his puberty. In between, he grunts out apologies, desperately rutting his clothed cock against her in search of some kind of friction that may provide him with an ounce of comfort from the desire that licks all up his spine and muddles his mind.

Her own body thrums with the knowledge. The Second Prince of Brodia wants her and has wanted her for so long. He fantasises about her, perhaps in the same way she fantasises about him. Perhaps, then, he would not mind too much when she tells him that she had her mother arrange for him to be her guard in this trip, in spite of his early misgivings.

“Please, Your Highness…” She gasps out, her hands winding about his neck and tangling in his mussed raven-black hair, if only to give herself some kind of purchase. “I want to help. This is my fault. Do with me what you need to.”

“I can’t!” He whines into her neck, almost on the verge of tears. “I won’t . . . Defile you like that. Not like this!”

“It is too late, Alcryst. We have no choice, or it is only getting worse.” She responds, begging almost as much as him. “Help me. Help me help you.”

“Yes… Yes…” He hiccupped in despair.

Assuming this is the best confirmation she is going to get, Alear take it into her own hands to unbutton his trousers, to work at the placket, to take his cock into her warm palms. It is stiff and aching, slick with precome, the tip flushed ruddy red.

If anybody sees them in the riverbed like this, it is going to be a scandal of grand proportions, but she cannot bring herself to care, not when he whines as she handles him, not when he groans chest deep and kisses her mouth fiercely as if he never wants to let her go.

His coat is thrown to the wayside, his shirt tore open, his trousers down about his lean, scarred thighs. Her dress is soiled without repair, her hair is loose wild against her back and her skirts are lifted to her waist.

He is a gentleman, even so. Her underwear is long forgotten, her slick soaking into the smooth rocks beneath them, but Alcryst will not take her virtue and ruin her in this manner even with the drugs and toxins of whatever flower this is muddying his mind. Instead, the prince of Brodia ruts between her legs, working his slick cock through the mess of her damp thighs, fucking into them as if they can work in her cunt’s stead.

He is whimpering and moaning, sweating, his hair falling unbound about his shoulders in the messiness of all of this. Strong hands dig into her bare thighs above where the ribbons tied about her stockings keep the garments up. As he fucks her thighs, he presses his mouth against hers to muffle her whines and whimpers and his own growls.

It is all animal nature, two creatures leaning on one another in the most base of ways. The friction the slide of his cock provides to her own aching cunt is not enough, but she says nothing as his tongue slides against hers and his teeth catch on her lip and the nobleman uses her as she have always wanted to be used by him.

Alear senses that it is working in the twitch of his hands where they are fastened about her, the shuddering of his abdomen, the slack whine of his mouth against hers and the way he begins to breathe even heavier. His cock between her thighs seem to pulse, and before she knows it, he has pulled back from the kiss, groaning out.

“Gods… Fuck, sorry… It’s coming… You’re so lovely…”

As his seed pulses out in thick ropes, coating the ground and the backs of her legs, splashing against her poor untouched cunt. She knows that the prince was being a gentleman, she knows that he did not put his cock inside of her for noble reasons, but that knowledge does nothing to assuage the frustrated knot inside of her that she wants to be filled and she has not been.

With that, the effect of the pollen dies down. It is as if a spell has been lifted, as, even with the afterglow and the exhaustion, colour drains from the already pale Prince Alcryst and he realises the state that they are in.

“I am so sorry!” He gasps out, bending down with his forehead to the ground. “I am sorry, I could not help myself... I-I understand if you wish to turn leave Brodia immediately, I shall arrange for your journey back across the sea and I shall provide you with you and your holy mother might desire as reparation.”

He tails away as Alear does not speak. She simply lay there beneath him, her dress in disarray and the mixture of her own slick and his come pooling on the pebbles beneath them.

She must be pouting. His eyes are not quite clear, but he looks down at her and a dry, throaty chuckle forces itself from his lips as he sees the disappointment in her face.

“Oh…” He breathes out.

For his first exercise of self-worth, Alcryst realises exactly what it is, what Alear wants, a smile breaking across his lovely mouth.

“I... I do believe I still feel a little out of sorts. I would appreciate your assistance, if you would be so kind as to accompany me to my bedroom.”

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Engage Masterlist

#fire emblem #alcryst

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catch-the-wind · 3 years ago

Text

when reader is sick hc's p2

PART 2 IS FINISHED WHOO

here's a link to part 1 uwu

so i'm still brainrotting over this and i would like to date almost every character rn~ i probably won't add more to this unprompted but if anyone wants a part 2 just shoot me an ask! <3

tags: gn!reader, xiao x reader, zhongli x reader, ningguang x reader, beidou x reader, kazuha x reader, amber x reader, keqing x reader, venti x reader, scaramouche x reader, thoma x reader

xiao

this man is so awkward goodbye

he’s really popping into the kitchen of wangshu inn like mr. smiley yanxiao i need an order of almond tofu and uhh whatever the hell it is sick people eat

asks cloud retainer if there’s a medicinal thing she’s created and hey can you fix my s/o

meanwhile his s/o is like xiao- xiao- XIAO- it’s a COLD i’ll SURVIVE, stop leaving me to find solutions and just come cuddle

so xiao cuddles <3 he’ll read to his partner but it’s likely he’s also just sitting there in silence holding his s/o

he likes the companionship, doesn’t talk much. comfy silence all around

his partner probably falls asleep on him at some point but he’s okay with it

he probably watches his partner while they rest and he’s super frowny because he hates seeing them in pain :(

but also the gentle forehead kisses while his partner rests <3

he tells zhongli that he needs time to be with his s/o while they’re ill. he makes it sound like his partner is dying which is...overdramatic but also he just wants to dote on them and make sure they’re okay

he asks verr goldet what things a sick person might want while his partner rests and then he tries to kinda sorta subtly ask for help getting them

tries to dote on his partner subtly but he’s so grumpy all the time LOL

n e ways he gives his partner smooches and cuddles and that’s all that matters uwu

zhongli

he doesn’t even have to really say it to hu tao, she just knows he’s about to ask for a few days off. he does ask, ofc bc he’s following the protocols of social etiquette

he goes to his partner’s home or they’re in his for the entire time they’re sick

has a shopping list of foods for a sick person, also gets tea

has no mora to purchase anything on his shopping list so he hits up tartaglia LMAO

tartaglia comes w zhongli just to visit zhongli’s s/o

hu tao also comes to visit zhongli and co but he’s so wary of her because is she about to pull a prank- really she just brings him some tea he likes and wishes his s/o well <3 she probably sings to them too but it’s a little creepy if you listen to the lyrics LOL

this man is not reading his partner stories, they’re getting histories, pov morax. he knows so many little details that are lost in time but are kept safely in his memories

the man works out, tell me otherwise. he may choose his own body and he knows he has cake but the man works out and trains. he’s a god of WAR and he keeps himself in good shape. n e way he works out in the living room or backyard while his s/o is sick and he trains w just a shirt and pants and he’s so pretty aHEm i think my asthma is acting up again hang on

okay but muscles rippling and you can see it through the clothes that aren’t even that tight BUT BRO WHY ARE YOU GRUNTING SO MUCH PLEASE NO ONE ELSE DOES

would probably get his partner toys and such and one of them is a little dragon <3 give it smooches every day

he’s distracted when he answers hu tao or the adepti because he’s thinking ab his partner instead

ningguang

the frown on her face when she finds out PHEW

she takes her partner’s temperature with the back of her hand and she’s all frowny all day. ganyu is lowkey concerned bc what’s the matter with lady ningguang-

her partner stays in ningguang’s home and she’s working from home for a while <3 there are millelith guards and members of the qixing popping into her home office and even beidou once or twice. bei is also worried ab ning’s partner, but she’s doing the hearty slap on the back and the “get well soon!”

ningguang ordering food from wanmin and xiangling personally delivering it <3 xiangling and guoba are both showing up with some hot soup and guoba is there for cuddles pls he’s so cute

ningguang will read to her partner, probably tells them about her day and entertains small talk until they fall asleep

she cooks some of her qiankun mora meat and tries to make her partner soup <3 the millelith and the qixing have never seen their tianquan in a kitchen working before but she would only ever do it for the people she loves

keqing is in the corner quietly shipping while munching golden shrimp balls goodbye

i think ningguang respects ganyu too much to force her to run around for stuff but ganyu probably likes ning’s partner enough to do it anyway

ning and cuddles and temple kisses and she won’t give her partner smooches on the lips :( but she’s soft for them so they get cheek kisses and spooning them to sleep

beidou

she stays at her partner’s place while they’re sick because the crux might make them feel seasick instead

but she goes back and forth to the crux to get her things and take care of business and such. her crew probably loves her partner so they have things for bei to bring back <3

bei doesn’t even leave her partner’s town but she’s got sango pearls, cecilias, qingxin, cor lapis jewelry, dendrobiums (even though those are like. blood flowers. they’re pretty it’s fine) and many many fruits

xiangling comes by with food for bei and co and sticks around to hear beidou telling her partner stories about her time at sea

beidou is. she’s so buff okay. she carries her partner in and out of the room and to the living room or kitchen or brings everything to her partner and you can see how defined her muscles are bye i’m in love with her

we already know bei learned to cook a little bit from xiangling but beidou is absolutely learning to cook more while her partner is sick. xiangling is there giving her cooking lessons while beidou’s partner watches <3 bei with that look of concentration and she’s so quick with the knives too i’m- okay but her spoonfeeding her partner?? *chef’s kiss* ;)

beidou puts too much pepper in a dish and it deffo clears sinuses LMAO but she tried and it actually does taste very good if you can handle your spice 🤷‍♀️ i cannot so find me with a gallon of milk later

n e ways beidou cuddles her partner to sleep and falls asleep as soon as she knows they’re resting <3 many cuddles and many kisses, even if they insist not to because cooties will get u sick bei 🥺

visits bubu’s pharmacy to get her partner’s medicine herself but also has remedies from other places too! zhongli deffo helps her with some other gifts for convalescents so it’s historically, traditionally and socially acceptable

kazuha

is so worried omg

wherever his ass is, he’s going to his partner as soon as he finds out they’re sick. he’s so frowny and worried it’s almost cute but also,,,kazu it’s a cold, it’s FINE

he goes to collect qingxin and sweet flowers and stuff himself and makes his own poultices and soups and such <3

he shows up at his partner’s home with arms and buckets of flowers and herbs as soon as he possibly can. bei understands if he has to go tho, she gives him leave uwu

makes his partner soup and dried fish and gives them many smooches <3 they are not allowed out of bed LOL they just have to stay there and wait for him to dote on them

many many cuddles and smooches. he plays leaves and grass and recites poems for them he’s so cute <3 sigh, this man plays grass and i’m out here simping

also comes bearing gifts from wherever he was last tho. if he was on the crux, he’s probably got gifts from beidou and the crew even if they don’t really know kazu’s partner, they just know he’s happy and that’s what matters. if he’s not on the crux, his boss probably gives him leave and a gift or smth even if it’s just like a tea or a bottle of wine or smth

he’ll cuddle and be a blanket. but he’s also got fabrics that beidou picked up in inazuma and he uses that as a blanket for his partner <3

will tell his s/o stories of his childhood, his time wandering, his time with the crew, his work. anything they want to know or have questions about, he’ll tell them.

forehead kisses, temple kisses, holding his partner’s hand and pressing a kiss to the back of their hand ugh i love him

deffo gets sick because he can’t deny his partner smooches on the lips smh. and then it’s his partner’s turn to play nursemaid

the crew from the crux probably drops by to check on kazoo man and co. they bring some regional delicacies and blankets and their best cold remedies with a slap on the back for kazu and a gentler pat for his partner. like w ningguang’s partner, bei probably gives kazu’s s/o a hearty slap but it’s not enough to hurt them

anyway i’m in love with him

amber

she’s so worried she’s such a sweetie omg

she goes to her partner immediately and fusses over them before they have to gently tell her that they’re fine

she goes to collect sweet flowers and stuff and goes to ohm, albedo and barbara for help making medicines and such

doesn’t want to leave her duties unattended to but jean also knows that amber wants to be with her s/o so she tells amber that she has fewer duties for her <3

jean tells kaeya to go make sure amber is doing okay and doesn’t need help or anything so he drags ohm, diluc, albedo and lisa too LOL

lisa was planning on going anyway, she just used diluc to carry her books w this opportunity <3 albedo is just treating amber’s partner w meds and potions and things and lisa takes a peek at that too

she’s so sad she doesn’t have ohm’s super cold skin so she can’t be a human cooling pack for her partner </3 but she gives them many smooches on cheeks and foreheads and temples

barely resists giving her partner kisses on the lips bc she still wants to go to work but also wants to give her partner what they need and sigh. it’s a struggle for amber

she wears pajamas and cuddles with her s/o <3

cooks her partner some (fully cooked!!) meals, not her specialty steak. but she makes soup and goes to good hunter and gets good hot food there too

keqing

wants to take some time off to help her partner feel better but also doesn’t want to leave work. ningguang probably sends her home at some point because she’s fretting and working and stop feeling so bad keqing, you have sick days

she still goes to work but she’s just taking marginally shorter days sigh, she goes home early instead but brings work home so she can do it while sitting with her partner

wears leisure clothes when at home with her partner but the fact that she has clothes she doesn’t use for work is shocking LMAO the cat ears stay tho ;) catgirl always

ganyu comes by with keqing’s work, some wanmin takeout and a card and gift for her partner <3

xiangling hears that keqing is home with her partner while they’re sick and brings food over to keqing’s. she’s got extra golden shrimp balls for keqing. AND AGAIN. GUOBA CUDDLES ❤️❤️❤️

keqing feels so bad for not doing as much work, she’s making herself almost as sick as her partner </3

ningguang comes over one night with beidou while keqing is doing work in bed while her partner is resting and she sees keqing stressed as all hell. she just gives keqing some food and tells her to actually rest. soft!ning and bei being moms god i love them

okay but keqing tucking her partner in with a sweet kiss before retreating to her work in the corner, the lamps turned to the lowest they can possibly be because keqing refuses to leave her beloved but can’t not do work

keqing trying to cook food for her partner that isn’t meant specifically for survival but for taste is so cute. she’s trying to cook golden shrimp balls and soup and stuff and she’s not bad at it! she took a single night of giving her s/o hot tea and some wanmin soup before she learned the whole cookbook so she can be the one to cook for them <3

venti

he brings his partner wine u cannot tell me otherwise

he goes to diluc’s. not the tavern but straight up dawn winery and asks diluc if he can get a bottle of wine for his s/o and please please please he’ll go fight some of those slimes for you, please? with the big 🥺 and staying outside diluc’s window to beg bye

diluc just gives him the wine with a glare but won’t make venti do the commission <3 venti legit says “thank barbatos” and gives diluc an ~ehe~ before he gets ready to glide away. he turns around and asks diluc if he’s sure he can’t do the comm but diluc just glares at him all broody~

diluc comes by to check on venti’s partner too bc where does venti live- venti is just camping out at his partner’s place for now and feeding them and giving them wine and diluc just kinda goes a little pink but glares while he says “get well soon” and leaves a windwheel aster from near the winery

venti makes soup and many vegetable/fruity foods because “they’re good for you! have some wine with that ehe”

jean comes by at some point with barbara to check on venti and co. they’ve got other foods and some hydro healing for venti’s partner <3

ohm comes over to see his friend and brings him some medicines, food and wine. he gets to witness the anemo god get all soft and squooshy for his s/o it’s so sweet

he uses anemo to entertain his partner with some gentle breezes playing through leaves <3 but he also plays his lyre for them and gives them smooches in between and during songs because he’s a god ofc he isn’t gonna get sick, pay the bard with kisses. and where’s his gratuity :( 😗

he doesn’t read to his s/o but he does tell them stories with a musical accompaniment. sometimes his partner will fall asleep so he just smiles so softly and tucks them in and continues playing his lyre at the window while they sleep <3

but also brushing his partner’s hair back and giving them a kiss on the forehead please i love my beloved kinnie

n e ways venti forehead smooches and playing the lyre for his s/o <3 no cough meds ehe, just dandelion wine and whatever ohm gave him (that was, in fact, the cough medicine)

scaramouche

bro this dude looks like he CANNOT be assed but he really cares <3<3

his work schedule doesn’t change but he’s going to his s/o’s home super often with soup and food and medicine and extra blankets

even to his partner, scara looks broody but he always looks like that LOL

tartaglia finds out where scara is going and he brings food and toys and stuff too <3 scara later has to read one of the kids books tartaglia brought and he refuses to voices but it’s very sweet anyway

scara probably asks sandrone if his doctor brother can get him some good cold medicine but would never admit that he asked ohm for help LOL. ohm shows up anyway and finds out <3

can and will cook soup but that’s all you’re getting from him. the takeout he brought is most definitely not something he made, no sir’am he would never do something as soft as cook for them. soup doesn’t count, it’s oboiling water with some added flavor, shut up tartagalicious he’s not soft

will give his partner kisses only after he thinks they’re asleep. refuses to give them any affection besides a headpat or two and maybe one hug when he shows real concern. his partner isn’t quite yet asleep one time and then feigns sleeping when they hear scara’s whispered “i love you” and he presses a kiss to their forehead 🥺❤️

he takes off his hat inside the house but will go around with a blanket around his shoulders to mock his partner smh. the blanket is on his head like a hood and he fake sniffles with an almost derisive laugh but he gives his partner a real smile at the end <3

9/10 times will never admit that he’s soft unless it’s a Very Serious Moment but he’s a squishy dood for his s/o and his s/o only

will not read or sing to his partner but he’ll sorta cuddle if they ask very nicely and many times. it’s just kind of him sitting next to them and they kind of have to muzzle before he’ll move his arm for his own comfort LMAO

will bring his partner gifts and food, a few flowers but he’ll just claim he’s delivering it from someone else with a look of fake disgust </3 maybe like two of those are actually from other ppl and not him

when his partner is actually feeling really sick, he won’t be a big smol meanie and he actually looks so concerned~ his partner means a lot to him and he doesn’t want them to feel sick or in pain so he’ll cuddle them unprompted and rub their back, run his hand thru their hair, soft forehead and temple kisses and “i’m here, baby” and “i love you” and falling asleep with his partner tucked under his chin <3 he’s actually so sweet bye 😭

thoma

thoma feels so bad when his partner is sick. it isn’t even his fault but he feels so bad because he wants to protect them, even from tiny little germs 😭 i’m sorry u can’t be my immune system thoma it’s FINE

he asks to take off work and ayaka just kinda sighs but smiles and waves a hand to dismiss him bc yes ofc you can, simp

ayato just laughs when he sees this LMAO BYE

thoma’s partner stays at his home, in his bed or a guest room (idk if he has his own place or stays w the kamisatos as their literal live-in maid but anyway)

his partner gets his care, any doctors or caretakers around ritou, the medic from the crux, the kamisato family doctor- this man is using some of his favors for medicine and then cuddling his s/o, ugh i want to date him sm

both kamisatos come by with some food for thoma and co but poor ayato can’t even keep his grin contained, poor thoma is conditioned to be nervous ab what ayato feeds him LOL

he’s cooking for his partner, legit gives them a list of options and an “anything you want, my love?”

cuddles his s/o even tho they might protest but it takes like 0.2 seconds to stop protesting bc that man is comfy

tells his partner stories about what it was like back home in mondstadt and his journey to inazuma and why he’s there as well as his stories about all the different kinds of people he’s met

taroumaru coming w kozue to the kamisato estate to get some hot tea to thoma 🥺 and the cuddles and nuzzles from this great doggo for thoma before he turns to his partner too 😭 straight up jumps in the bed and licks their faces a little before nuzzling in for a hug

n e way thoma gives a lot of hugs and kisses and cuddles and i think he’s hella touchy-feely and misses home and treasures his partner even more because of it

my beautiful red shield ❤️

#genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #ningguang x reader #beidou x reader #kazuha x reader #amber x reader #keqing x reader #venti x reader #scaramouche x reader #thoma x reader #genshin fluff #hc's #lyz.writes #part deux was fun i wanted to add more to thoma's lol #i'm so in love w him help

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littlefreya · 4 years ago

Text

The Devil’s Tongue

Summary: A mask of virtue hides a man riddled with lust and while his stoicism proceeds him, even he can’t withstand a begging girl.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x OFC (3rd person POV)

Warning: 18+. Manhandling, abuse of power, MaleDom/FemSub, some thigh riding, unprotected sex, deflowering, loss of virginity, mild mentions of blood, sex in front of mirror (auto-voyeurism), profanities, bodily fluids, possessive behaviour.

Words: 4.5k

A/N: Many thanks to my muse @agniavateira for supporting me through this story and for betaing. This was inspired by a certain scene in the film. My pervy mind took it elsewhere. Sincerely, I am not sure how I feel about it, so I’ll let you be the judge while I’m having my panic attack.

Please reblog and give feedback if you enjoyed. 🖤

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own*

Title: The Devil’s Tongue

The treacherous moon was already high in the midnight sky and winds of melancholia whispered through the ivy leaves that grew timidly around the window’s panes. Despite the solace of night, her blood seeped with venom, and vicious thorns grew beneath her skin.

Striding through the desolate corridors of Holmes’ estate, Vanessa fumed while listening to the sounds of the old house: the creaking of the floorboards, the glass panes rattling in the wind, and the scratching of mice that ran between the walls. A kerosene lamp hung heavy between her sweaty fingers; her knees cracked as she marched forward to face her master.

Same as every night, Sherlock hid in his library to chase adventures behind thin sheets of paper. He was not to be disturbed, though he left her no choice.

Sent her away he did, claiming that her service was no longer needed even though she was promised a home at the estate, despite Enola’s departure. The worst of it was that he didn’t even bother telling her himself, but simply sent another servant to announce that she must pack her belongings tonight.

‘Like hell, I would!’

Vanessa willed her heart to beat slowly as she tiptoed, cursing every wooden plank that grated beneath her feet. It’s been over a year since she started working for the Holmes family, and despite battling her concupiscence tooth and nail, Mr. Holmes has possessed her very existence. Sleepless nights left her yearning to drink the mead of his mouth and feel the slapping of his skin onto hers.

Wistfully, the brooding detective only stared at her with a lustre of ice. But the notion of never seeing him again felt like holding a blade pointed to her chest; the wish to confess nibbled in her gut like a pesky little fish.

‘At least I will have the chance to say farewell…’ she mused as she finally reached the open doorway of the library. It was a cosy cavern, stuffed with endless shelves of books and vases of pink roses to mellow its austerity.

Wood burnt to a crisp within the hearth, its aromatic scent bleeding into the air and a light layer of ashen mist wafted over the chamber. There sat her master, resting comfortably on his maroon leather armchair with a book in one hand and a pipe pressed between his succulent lips like a king on a throne of solitude.

Silently she stared, brow furrowing at his sight. It baffled her how a man can be so oblivious to the dangerous power he had over women. Sherlock was as divine as the coldest day of winter: eyes of crystal snow, curls darker than the night, and sharp facial features that gave a tinge of intimidating flavour. The ancient god Hades would have been jealous of his divinity. Even in these serene moments, Sherlock’s presence exhumed dominant masculinity, consuming oxygen like the fire that burnt in the mantle.

Clad in a white cotton shirt loose over his broad chest, he calmly turned a page on his book and sighed.

It was impossible not to sense her nearby. The young woman was a breeze of autumn wind: spiced yet soothing, bringing the omen of a season’s change. She tried very hard to hide her feral nature, abiding, serving, and acting polite. While she fooled everyone, including herself, he detected the brazen kiss that raged within her.

Nights were riddled by dreams of dismantling her shackles, only to bind her further to himself. And yet, every time he looked at her a loathing rage gnawed inside. To him, she was a dire trap meant to expose the thing that hid behind his mask of virtue—a reckless savage, sick with twisted desire.

It took true power to send her away. Yet, here she was, barging into his shelter to pour another drop of simmering turmoil into his already seething blood.

“Can’t sleep, Nessie?”

Vanessa jolted with a startle. His deep voice threaded tendrils of dark silk around her heart, attempting to draw it further out of her fragile ribcage. Maintaining attention on the book in his hand, Sherlock’s mouth twitched into a cold grin of respect, sensing her glare stabbing at his nape.

“You might be a mouse, but you have the stomp of an elephant.”

Forcing the book shut with a soft thud, Sherlock turned his head aside, daring to catch a glimpse of her. His pretentious smile died, and a surge of passion seized at his groin. Like the virgin Persephone, she stood before him wrapped in a sheer nightgown, the creamy fabric barely hiding her delicacies. A mystic glow of sweet honey and amber gold rimmed her flesh, kissing down her clavicles and leading his enslaved gaze to the soft heaps at her chest.

By courtesy, he should have looked away, but the wish to incinerate the silken threads that retained whatever left of her modesty whispered in his ear like a little devil that sat on his shoulder. It was cruel of her to provoke him like this.

Quirking an eyebrow with disdain, he finally battled the sight away.

“Something ails you, girl.” Sherlock’s rich baritone dropped. Touching the pipe to his maw, he took a long whiff and suckled his lip. “You seem unnecessarily emotional,” he noted dryly, pretending as if her appearance was a mystery.

Noticing the uncaring shift in his tone, she scowled and stepped carefully into the room. Placing the lamp on a nearby stand, she purposely stepped into his line of sight and looked at the frowning detective with the feral wilderness growing inside her chest.

“You’re sending me away tomorrow,” an unmistakable hint of rage seeped between the cracks in her voice. Grasping her knuckles, she began striding back and forth across the Parisian rug as if lost in her own musings, “why? What have I done to you?”

A small huff escaped his nose, and he rubbed a finger beneath his bottom lip. His patience spread thin as the young lady scurried about with hysteria. The mere idea of bending her over and teaching her some discipline caused the fabric of his trousers to stretch over his engorging desire.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, it was simply my decision.” He answered, striving to sound neutral and remorseless. “A lady’s maid without a lady is useless in a place like this. But now, Vanessa, it’s late, and I’d like to get back to my book. No reason for you to stand here in your... undergarments.”

Lips agape and feet nearly colliding on to one another, Vanessa paused on her steps. His words crept a chill down the length of her spine, making her cheeks blaze. Passionate and irrational, she never even noticed her lack of chastity when she left her room.

“I… didn’t think much, I was upset…”

‘Of course, she didn’t think much. Irrational, savage thing.’

A string twitched in Sherlock’s cheek, and a dark errant lock fell rogue upon his pale temple as he turned his head aside, adamant to brush her away. His self-restraint was but a delicate, dying leaf, hanging by its last yellowing strand.

“I came here to ask you to…”

“I’m afraid it’s not negotiable.” Sherlock interrupted and swatted his hand flat on the leather binding. His stern glance floated out the window, focusing on a large spider that threaded lines of silver amidst the peeling frames. “You will find a new job in London, a better house,” he apprised and took a deep inhale, turning the book over to open it where he paused. “Now please leave before we’ll both hurt one another.”

‘Before I will pierce cavities in your soft flesh.’

Stunned by his dismissive, arctic demeanour, her stubbornness and frustration only grew to monstrous proportions. With clenched fists and water pooling at her lids, she grunted and took a courageous step closer, standing at the fore of his couch while shaking her head.

“No!”

“No!?” he scowled, eyebrows lowering with dismay. “You forget your place, woman.” He flashed her a quick warning look, his icy glare tinted midnight black as he stood at his wit’s end.

If only it didn’t make her heart shrivel with wanton. Their proximity perilously close, Sherlock’s strong scent pervaded into her lungs: a musky blend of whiskey, leather, and fine tobacco that made her thighs wobble. Before she could even register what’s happening, her knees were brushing the thick carpet, her decorum and dignity gone.

“I want to stay here. With you.” Slender like stalking vines, her fingers crawled onto the armchair, squeezing at the smooth leather with pitiable desperation.

“Keep me, please!”

“Vanessa,” Sherlock drawled, still refusing to meet her gaze while his thumb circled deep into the coarse binding. Furious tides rose in his eyes, whisked by the rageful storm that inhabited his mind, “Do not make me regret this night.”

He didn’t want to hurt her, but she was pretty when she begged.

“You don’t know what it is that you’re asking, I am not the gentleman you think I am.”

Ignoring his warning, she insisted. Daring, needy talons rose from the armchair to claw at his arm, clutching it with demand. Even through barriers, a surge flushed between their bodies.

“Sherlock,” she half-whispered, crystal droplets of sadness gliding down the smooth slope of her cheeks. Not caring the least as they dribbled onto the soft sleeve of his shirt, leaving tiny stains that dampened his arm.

“Guide me, teach me, make me yours!”

Nostrils flaring and breath rigid, the large man finally snapped his stare at her with the sanguine hunger of a starved vampire. The mask of his virtue fell shattering to the floor, and a harrowing silence took over the room, diffused only by the sound of crackling embers and Vanessa’s shaky breath.

“Remember this tomorrow when you’re raw and hurting; this is what your begging bought you, little Nessie.”

A strangled gasp died at her sternum as his hand suddenly grasped her throat. With a quick yank, she was up on her feet, her toes barely scraping the ground as the hulking man held her up to his face.

“Oh the things I’ll do to you..” he whispered as his thumb dug deep onto her cheek and the rest of his fingers etched at her throat.

Swinging on his boots, he swept her across the silent halls. His stride a dark ceremonial gyrate, the creamy fabric of her pristine nightgown floating mid-air like a sheer tongue of white morning mist.

“I will make you mine as you begged,” he rasped barbarically, one hand pushing the door open while the other held her attached to his chest, “I will teach you what you asked…” his lips brushed her ear, his breath hot over her cheek, “your first lesson begins... in my bed.”

With a swift shove, she was forced into his realm. Feet stumbling upon the tepid wooden floor, her ears throbbed with shock. Her hands reached to grasp onto the engraved bed column to prevent herself from falling.

His bedroom smelled of dying roses and smoked wicks, echoing the putrid decadence that gnawed at Sherlock’s mind. A dozen melting candles burned in every secluded corner, their little orange tongues licking the reflection of a sizable mirror that stood opposite of his large bed.

A dull metallic click broke the air, followed by Vanessa’s sputtering breath as she saw him lock the door. Her faith sealed - now caged in the lair of the beast. Reduced to his own shimmering shadow, Sherlock advanced toward her, ripping his shirt off.

Fingers biting into the wooden pole, Vanessa stared, unable to determine if it was a man or a lycan god who stood before her. Every breath made his bare torso look menacing. Under the deep dusky twilight, his muscles curved and stretched, coated by a virile, dark fur.

Curious, her gaze followed the striking veins and the trail of unkempt hair that paved its way down his fine abdomen and disappeared beneath his trousers. Guiding to that which she feared and wanted at once.

Eyes of blue flame shone with absent remorse, brows arched with a pretentious demeanour as he reached a hand to seize her to him. “Your innocence dies here tonight,” he hissed in her ear, “from now on, you’ll be my little whore to plough as I please.”

The air died in her lungs as his firm chest collided with hers and his knee forced her legs apart. Bulging and muscular, his thigh rose to brush at her clit, the thin fabrics a shy barrier.

Shuddering, she swallowed hard in a dire battle to find her voice. “I will be whatever you need me to be,” she retorted as the thought of being exploited by her master released fluttering butterflies of fear and excitement in her chest.

Sherlock smirked and captured her jaw between his finger and thumb as he leaned in. Torrid lips hovered over her own, offering a phantom kiss to distract her from the greedy fingers that pushed the sleeves of the gown off her shoulders.

Like warm milk it poured down her body, exposing her delicacies to the night and to the gluttonous hands that kneaded her breasts while he flicked his tongue over her closed mouth, tasting the plumpness of her lips.

A true creature of the underworld, Sherlock’s touch was cruel like his promises; he took as he pleased, leaving his sigil seething on her skin. Her sputtering gasps served as an opportunity to invade her hot cavern. The detective’s kiss was even more ruthless, his tongue smooth as silk seized and conquered her breath.

She could feel him streaming in her blood, tasting him all the way down through her gut. Dark and intoxicating like poisonous absinthe, the promise of death swung amidst their hot, serpent-like dance.

Yet she only yearned to drink to her demise.

As if under a stupor, she swayed to his spells, bucking her hips to ground herself on the meat of his thigh, leaving the coarse fabric wet with sticky arousal. A condescending grin tugged at his lips, and his hand rushed to the back of her head, weaving through her hair and yanking her back.

“Already the wanton harlot,” he spat, swiftly turning her over and holding her against his chest. “Look at yourself,” he growled hoarsely in her ear, forcing her doe eyes to stare at their reflection. Sherlock rested his dimpled chin on the top of her head with his brows lowered like an apex predator examining his prey.

His hand disappeared behind, hastily fumbling with his trousers, “You wanted me to show you, you want to see,” he called as his trousers piled at his feet and he carefully stepped out.

Something hefty and hard nudged at the small of her back, turning her veins into thin tendrils of ice. Abysmal panic coiled at her gut at the realisation that Sherlock meant to reshape her as the vessel of his primal urge.

Hand snaking around her belly, he snatched her to fall back onto the mattress with him pillowing her fall. Her firm buttocks slid across his hairy abdomen, hands fumbling to grasp his thick thighs while her eyes flared at the sight of his hardened cock displayed in front of her in its full generous size.

It was nothing like the medical illustrations she saw in books: bulging tendons swerved across an imposing, meaty rod. Ridges rippled across its girth like soft silk, and the heart-shaped head dripped of glistening, pearly arousal.

Curious, her trembling hand wandered to feel him, stunned by the liquid-like texture that engulfed the absurd rigidness. By order of her touch, he twitched and swelled, causing the radiating heat at the apex of her groin to palpitate.

Pressing his lips to the shell of her ear, Sherlock growled, “Do you like what you see, little one?”

His taut hands reached to grasp her thighs, spreading her wide over each of his legs and holding them apart to expose her untouched sleek at the mirror. The thundering in his throat was nothing but animalistic as he glowered at her perfect sight: his little Nessie, his little untainted flower blooming fresh with dew, yearning to be plucked.

“Look at yourself,” Sherlock demanded with a whisper drenched of fervour. His coarse hand dragged to capture her chin and forced her to face the salacious spectacle reflected before them. Her breath shuddered; she saw their skin mapped onto one another, their bodies entangled and their souls unmasked.

How could something so forbidden be so beautiful?

“I dwell in the darkness, Vanessa.” Sherlock explained, his voice stroking her temple as his lips inched closer, “You must know that, you must have me as I am.”

He laved his tongue over her cheek as if he was tasting the sweetest delicacy and reached for his erection, stroking the pulsating girth between his fingers. Eyes still glued to their likeness on the glossy surface, she glanced as he pressed his pink, meaty tip between her dripping petals.

“Watch as I take something from you that can never be given back, something that will forever belong to me.”

“Sherl….”

His name died on her tongue, the moment forever lost in a loud shriek. Savagely and unceremoniously, he pried her virginal cunt open the way a predator rips at its prey’s throat. His massive shaft tore through her purity with no resistance to fight back against his brutal invasion.

Pain rattled its way through her entire entity while the dark spectacle of the loss of her innocence played right in front of her eyes, spurring grievous tears. Lost to the bliss of her warm cavern, Sherlock chanted in loud groans, continuing to force himself all the way between her squeezing walls. Remorseless of her cries, he never stopped until every hollow inch inside her was full of his cock and his sac smacked against her stuffed opening.

“My! You feel good!” He panted with astonishment, his virility twitching within the lush sanctuary between her thighs. Noxious pride flowed in his veins at the reflection of the naked young girl, spread open with him inside her.

“Do you like having me inside you, my little harlot?”

“God!” Vanessa screamed, stunned by the sensation of him swelling at her core. His invasion seared, her legs trembled against his in a plea to be kept together. But he only stretched her wider, hooking both hands below her thighs.

“It will feel good in a little while,” he promised and slowly shifted his hips back. Inch by inch, his cock slid out of her now defiled slit, coated by blood and a sheer layer of arousal. It was something of decadent theatrics; his broad chest puffed against her spine, a blissful hum leaving his bobbing throat at the image of the crimson stain that decorated his sword.

“From this moment and beyond, this belongs to me,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck and planting wicked, butterfly kisses along the tender slope, “do you understand? Your little cunny is my property, your moans, your pleasure, all belong to me.”

Her cunt clenched around nothing as she watched his full length slipping out, tainted by broken purity, the empty void leaving pure urgency to course through her tendons. Hopeless for something she couldn’t even recognise, she whined and writhed on top of him. Her eyes levitated from their sexes to meet his icy glare.

“Sherlock, please, more! Please put yourself back inside me!!!”

“Fuck!” Sherlock rasped in awe of her wanton, his control nearly lapsed. Fingers digging into her thighs, he undulated his hips and pulled her down the length of his throbbing erection. Low melodies of pleasure rolled on his tongue as her wet cunt pressed around him again.

Gawking at the mirror, she nearly fell apart in his arms, cries of daze escaped her as Sherlock's drove back into her sleek. Every bit of his flesh unfolding hers, disappearing within her body to defy the loneliness aching in her cove until his entire shaft was lost in her depth and the tip of his cock hit something lush and tender. She could have sworn she felt him waver deep in her gut.

“Sherlock!!!” she cried, shutting her eyes at the sharp twinge that shuddered through her core.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes, dove,” he warned, and the authority in his voice left her no choice but to obey. Wickedly, his fingers slithered to the little nub of flesh above her slit and ruthlessly tugged at it to expose more of her battered sex. He continued to pound into her mercilessly, quickening the rhythm with each one of his thrusts.

“Look at you, taking me so obediently. Perhaps I was wrong about you, perhaps you are easily tamed.”

The thick bones of his hips crashed into her rump vigorously, his girth violently splitting her protesting walls. He was fast, wet, and hard inside her, his cock drilling into her over and over, every plunge stripping more layers of her soul and pushing her higher toward the heavens.

Enslaved to the beguiling aphrodisiac, she squirmed on top of him, her body beginning to push down to meet every thrust. The vision of herself being brutally taken by the large, civilised beast made the blood pool at the seams of her womanhood and tingle with frustration.

A shuddering quake began to spread within her, spiralling out in a sequence of spasms sourced at the spot where they connected. Bliss and ecstasy shattered her body and a sudden flush of pleasure exploded through her body as she came all over his cock.

Engulfed in her milking cunt, Sherlock could hardly believe what beheld his eyes. His beautiful nymph, coming undone around him, ethereal and divine. Her blissful chants a song to his ears only, she was like dryad humming a hymn to call upon a lonesome hunter.

“‘My Vanessa, I wanted you for so long.” He called, fucking her wildly through her orgasm. “Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he choked out on his grunts, her sugary walls closing around his thickness like a predatory flower, demanding to suckle his sweet elixir.

Still riding her climax, she shook her head, hesitant of speaking such profanities. But the stern glower on Sherlock’s face instantly forced her into submission.

“I want you to come … come inside me!” She panted and then screamed as another wave of intense rapture swept her away.

Her squeezing cunt forced the thick stream to vibrated through his shaft, making him drill into her with zeal. His fingers clutched her waist as he slammed her down onto his swollen cock, burying himself the deepest he could. Vanessa yipped as something hot sprouted into her, flooding her womb like a soothing kiss that slowly began trickling between their tight flesh.

Still locked in an embrace, they shivered together. Soft maple hues glimmered over their wet skin, their bodies heaving against one another while a symphony of pants and gasps filled the silence.

Sherlock’s glaciers sought to capture her reflection, a dark, brooding look on his sweat-silken face while his lips ghosted over her shoulder. There was no question in the rough expression of his face.

Nothing spoke louder than the possessiveness that pierced through the sharp reflection.

~*~

A tender stream of sunshower kissed her lids awake. The cerulean sky winked at her through the open window while her senses gingerly regained their functions after what felt like graveyard slumber. Finding herself alone, she wondered for a moment if the night before was only a fantasy; but this bed was too soft and far too large, and the sensation of shame licking between her thighs told her otherwise.

Even in his absence, Sherlock’s presence lingered. His pungent sweat layered on her skin, and from her torn seal trickled the pearly, forbidden essence of his loins. She allowed herself a moment of coy bliss, pressing her lips upon her bare shoulder to kiss the taste of him off her flesh when the thud of inching footsteps and creaking wood made her sit up with fright as if her presence was forbidden.

Huddling the blankets around her chest, she gulped as the door flung open.

Already dressed in a clean shirt, a vest of golden brown, and a long black jacket, the hulking man offered her a small wrinkle on his brow. Fine silks were folded on his forearm, and his eyes fell upon the naked beauty in his bed. A shadow of dark desire danced upon his slanted smirk as he noticed the little inkling of dry blood on the edge of the mattress.

“Slept well, my little Nessie?” He asked, passing a finger over his neatly combed locks before gesturing for her to approach him. Obedient as ever, his little servant quickly climbed out, immediately regretting her haste as a spear split through her core. With jolting legs, she swallowed her discomfort and approached him with her head lowered to the floor.

“No, we will have none of this,” Sherlock chided, his finger stalking beneath her chin to fix her stare on his. Their gazes met for a shy second and then he stepped back, unfolding the fabrics held beneath his arm.

A waterfall of black and crimson flowed down, hanging from his hands.

Vanessa’s eyes rounded with wonder; being a woman of lower status, she never owned anything as beautiful and expensive as the dress he held before her.

“Lift your arms, dove,” Sherlock commanded and she did as he bid.

The soft fabrics felt like warm liquid washing over her skin as Sherlock carefully slipped the dress over her head. His hands smoothly roamed her body, tugging at the delicate fabric to fit over her figure. The tall detective stepped to stand at her back and began working the laces of the corset embedded into the gown.

One by one, he tightened the silk binds as he pulled at the laces. Vanessa slightly hissed when her breasts squished against the generous cleavage.

“Forgive me,” Sherlock mumbled as he heard her distress, “I am not used to such… arrangements.”

“Arrangements?” she asked naively, though it quickly dawned on her that her dear master never had a wife or a mistress, which didn’t come much as a surprise after witnessing his bohemian desires the night before. And yet, no regret touched her heart as Sherlock pressed his hand over her torso and perched his chin atop her head once again.

“Look at us.” His lustrous eyes carried to the mirror, guiding hers to follow as he stroked his hand lower to flatten the folds of her dress and pushed her hair over her shoulders with the other.

“Don’t we make a pair?”

Glancing forward, Vanessa took a deep inhale. Crimson and black were unusually beautiful as they graced her figure. The rim of the cleavage was beaded with fine black jewels that gave her appearance an elegant, yet erotic flavour.

Taken by her new design, she allowed herself to be swallowed into Sherlock’s beautiful darkness.

She wouldn’t have him without it.

___________________________________

Additional notes: I don’t own Sherlock Holmes or Enola Holmes franchise. Thanks to @wondersofdreaming @wolvesandhoundshowltogether and @sapphirescrolls for moral support.

#henry cavill #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x ofc #Henry Cavill fanfiction #henry cavill sherlock holmes #henry cavill x reader #sherlock holmes x reade #enola holmes fanfiction

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