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indianamoonshine · 4 years

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c h a p t e r | i

summary: every summer you work on your father's strawberry farm with your three sisters. it's a way to take a break from the big city but summers in the midwest are hot and they linger. this year, your father's old and mysterious friend shows up to stay on your land for a reason yet to be determined. din djarin seems dangerous, but kind enough, and the two of you quickly become...well, let's fact it...smitten.

rating: m (18+) for future and explicit sexual content.

author's note: reader is well over eighteen for obvious reasons. i won't ever go into physical detail about the reader's appearance because we include everyone. this fic is pretty much a mix between pride & prejudice and call me by your name except without the und*rage crap we do not condone. so, without further ado, here's an aesthetically pleasing fanfic.

the moment din djarin laid eyes on you he knew he was a dead man.

at first, his view of you had been obstructed because you'd opened every door and window in the house. june in the midwest sometimes required such nuisances, so all of the curtains billowing in the breeze prevented him from looking upon you.

you were also on the couch, but he hadn't known that until you lifted a hand - soft as a dove's - from the back of the sofa. you played with the light between your fingers, shielding its dazzling rays from your eyes, just before setting it down again. your hands were so small (smaller than his anyway) and gentle. he imagined how foreign your skin would feel in warm contrast to his; how your fingers would feel intertwined with his calloused ones, which had done enough work throughout the years to be mistaken for a beggar’s. within the first moment, he saw you as flawless.

your father had not stopped for breath since din arrived, lamenting about the farm or discussing the layout of the home with an eagerness din had yet to match. he would've initially been interested in the history of the farm or how many sprawling acres rolled endlessly before them, but his eyes couldn't leave your hand.

you must've been asleep - napping in the embrace of the sun - because as soon as your father drew breath upon entering the living room, your voice tickled din's ears for the first time. sweet as music.

"dad? is that you?"

din couldn't help but blink at the sound of your voice. it seemed unnatural, like one hears in dreams or spiritual awakenings. he manages to compose himself at your father's side, straightening his posture to err on the side of caution.

your father exclaims with a joyful "ah!" and then introduces you by name.

"my daughter. one of them, anyway. she and the three eldest help during the summer," he had said, and then turned to the bay windows to go on about the view.

but you meet din's eyes, rested and glimmering with curiosity, while your father droned on in the background. you reach out a hand - the one he'd thought of holding - to shake.

he does. and it's every bit as beautiful as he knew it'd be.

"how do you do?" you give him a polite and pretty smile. if he hadn't known any better, you bat your eyelashes for good measure.

your father's tour continues but din can't stop thinking about the way your skirt rose to your thighs as you stretched awake.

|||

you were lying if you said you didn't think about him for the rest of the day.

you weren't the only one. your sisters - all three of them - had also met the mysterious din djarin.

"who is he?" charlotte asked while you congregated at the nearby pond. it was a lovely place, nestled within the thick of the woods and bursting with greenery. flowers of every kind blossomed around you and scents the air with a sweetness.

rhea lays in the shade of a peach tree. "one of dad's old friends," she says. she waves herself with a floral paper fan she'd gotten from chinatown while visiting you in new york.

"but why is he here?"

madeline, who paints with her watercolors, pipes in. "i heard he got into some trouble with the law and now he's in hiding."

you roll your eyes with a scoff, lounging in the grass and watching the clouds in the bright, blue sky. "madeline, that's absurd."

rhea (who is the oldest and most pragmatic) surprises you when she shrugs her shoulders. "i don't know. he looks likes a bad boy..."

you recall the way his jaw clenched as you introduced yourself - his neck was tempting. his skin glowed with a radiant hue in the sunlight and his eyes shone with an aura of broodiness. he was very austenian.

"boy is hardly the word," you correct.

charlotte, being the flirt, wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. she swims in the pond, hair wet and fanning against the water. she sinks lowly for dramatic effect. "how right you are."

"trouble or not, he was a perfect gentleman." rhea sighs and skims the water with her forefinger. "either way, he's easy on the eyes so i don't mind having him around."

easy on the eyes was putting it mildly. you wouldn't say that to the girls though; they had a habit of teasing when you showed interest in anyone attainable let alone a man decades older than you.

"don't do anything stupid, charlotte." madeline dips her paintbrush into her mason jar full of pond water.

charlotte huffs and flips her hair from her shoulder. it makes a splash, rippling the water as a result. "why not? we're all of legal age."

"he's dad's friend and a guest," you remind her, tearing your gaze away from the clouds.

the middle child lets out a pathetic whimper. "you guys are no fun," she groans.

|||

it was a busy season on the farm.

strawberries were ready to be picked by mid june and there was a three week window to do it. harvesting wasn't easy and it took a lot of man work. hands went numb, skin grew calloused. the sun that beat down on the fields was only manageable by the sprinklers that went off every blessed-ed fifteen minutes. during a drought, it was even worse.

the employees picked from seven in the morning until five in the evening. your father was adamant that breaks be plenty and pay be as prosperous as he could afford, but a strawberry farm wasn't a fortune five hundred company. he did what he could to provide the families with some semblance worthy enough to continue, and so every year he threw a dinner party.

it was always a lovely occasion, brimming with delectable treats and savory entrees. candles were aflame, lanterns lit up the pathway that lead to the entrance of the home and then the land leading into the woods. as a child, the dinner party was as exciting as a birthday. it was a night to look forward to all year long, sharing time with family and friends and gorging yourself on food you wouldn't eat any other friday of the week.

your sisters loved it too, mostly because they enjoyed the promise of gossip that poured from the mouths of guests like the wine served. and now that din djarin - a stranger, in all respects of the word - was attending an annual dinner that's managed to keep as tradition for years, gossip would surely be abundant as the wine itself.

guests arrived by the hour until the clock struck seven. the evening was crisp but warm enough to be comfortable without a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. the rock doves sung loudly to declare that sunset had begun, a few rogue and early lightning bugs blinking rhythmically. children of the employees ran throughout the fields bare footed and chanting taunts to their friends as their parents chattered among themselves.

home. here is home.

while the party had already begun (officially, at least), dinner hadn't yet been served. admittingly, you were a bit behind schedule, but you worked quickly to finish setting the tables. the theme was simple; linen napkins and wildflowers in random antique vases you found in your basement. the lilacs you'd picked from their bushes were already beginning to limp but you hoped no one would notice.

you hum when you work. whether it be intentional or not you find your lips buzzing with a tune plucked subconsciously from your brain as your hands busy themselves. you straighten the tablecloths, fill the vases with water, and set the silverware in their particular order. needless to say, you had a tendency to get lost in your own little world. so when a hand gently tapped you on the shoulder, you spun around with a shriek.

din djarin - man of the hour - is smirking handsomely at you, hands fiddling with a depressed looking lilac. you place a palm against your heart and count its beats. too many.

"mister djarin," you sigh out. "you scared me."

he lets out a breathy chuckle, hands running through his wavy locks. "i see that. i'm sorry, but i was just wondering if you'd like some help."

his voice...oh, stars and garters. it was so rough but tender - like a steak. you cock an eyebrow at how strange the comparison is but convince yourself it didn't matter. still, you're blushing from the jump so you duck your head from his gaze.

"there's not much left to do," you admit, turning back to the table. you spread your hands against the tablecloth to ward off any wrinkles. "you can double check if i missed any forks, i suppose. i have a tendency to do that."

din hums in his throat and nods a little. "sure," he says, moving to the first setting. his eyes scan along the silverware carefully. "where are your sisters? they don't help, huh?"

"they're better at entertaining," you say truthfully. "i volunteer to take care of the dinner part...as long as i don't have to socialize as much i'm content."

it was true. it's not that you had an aversion to people in general, but you tried to avoid conversation whenever possible - it wasn't your strong suit. you could get away with it when need be but you found it took too much energy to pretend to enjoy conversation about the weather or politics.

"i understand," din nods. he straightens a spoon with the nudge of his finger. "i find myself to be the same way."

there's an awkward silence between the two of you. you didn't know how to respond. while you weren't good at social situations in general, you found it natural to feign interest in subjects bland enough to circumvent discomfort...but you felt the need to impress him.

"so you'll be staying with us this summer then?" you decide, falling short. how stupid.

din nods swiftly. "yeah. in one of the cabins."

the cabins were located at various points of the land your father owned. in order to get there, one usually took an ATV or walked if the going gets tough. you preferred to stroll along the river, but your sisters liked riding the four wheelers or their bikes.

"which one?" you ask, tone mindless.

din's finished with double checking your work. he pulls out a chair - an old, wooden antique - and sits down upon it with caution. you stifle a laugh and, if he notices, he doesn't say anything. he'd soon learn that everything here was old but sturdier than they looked. you wish you could say it was for aesthetic purposes but it was more convenient than anything.

"the one closest to the pond," din replies lowly.

you notice how his eyes survey your form and how intimate it was. he was studying you but for whatever reason you couldn't be sure. you try to shake away the idea that he could be (dare you say?) pining over you. how silly. like you told charlotte: din djarin was off limis.

that was the end of it.

you find yourself blushing again so you hide your face. "that's my favorite one," you tell him honestly. "i like the view."

din smiles in agreement. "so do i."

if you weren't so heated with frustration, you would've called him out on the implication (as out of character for you it may be). then again, you found yourself weakened by the mere presence of this man. it wasn't unlike you, per say; you were naturally timid but there was an eagerness to his charm that you weren't familiar with. guys your age were so sure of themselves but it was almost always under false pretenses. this man however...well, he was a man and that was intimidating.

fine. it was hot.

you clear your throat in an effort to regain a semblance of poise. this summer had already proven to be laborious in a way you hadn't expected.

#DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THIS TOOK TO TYPE OUT #din djarin x reader #din x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mw1 #strawberryfic

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infinity-and-luck · 3 years

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To Sleep Perchance To Dream || Day 5: Dreams

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“Jonah, it’s really too late. I’m sure whatever it is you are working on can wait until morning; come to bed.”

“It can’t, and regardless, I’m not tired enough yet to sleep.” He was pouring over some books, faint candlelight illuminating the text just barely enough that Jonah had to strain his eyes to see what was written. Truly, he could do with the sleep; he had the beginnings of a headache at the moment, and given he’d forgotten to eat today, he was running out of energy.

Robert gave him a disapproving glare. He was standing in the doorway of the room that was officially his, but they had been sharing for the past few months. Jonah was facing away from him, hunched over the papers and books that were scattered across his desk, pretending he didn’t know well the expression on his—what were they at this point? More than friends, certainly—on his lover’s face.

This was the third time this week alone that Jonah had done this. He didn’t know how many times it had been this month; thankfully, Robert didn’t either. He’d been visiting his family, leaving Jonah alone to study.

“You’ll work yourself to death, and given how much you claim to fear it, I’d say you would do well to take care of yourself.”

Jonah tensed slightly. He was well aware that his habits weren’t necessarily healthy but he certainly wasn’t going to work himself to death; the very idea caused him some level of anguish and annoyance. Robert seemed just as annoyed, however, by Jonah.

“Come to bed, and I’ll tell you something I’ve never told anyone,” Robert tried to bargain with him. The prospect of secrets was tempting, however.

Sighing a bit too dramatically, he stood up and walked over to his companion. When he stood within a metre of the other man, he stopped. Robert took a step forward and began to loosen his cravat. Soon, it hung loosely around his neck, and Jonah went to take off the rest of his clothes since he was technically still dressed in the same outfit he’d been wearing a day ago. He’d not had the time to change nor did he have the need given he had worn it the entire time.

Robert was sitting in the bed when Jonah came to join him finally. He pulled the covers back for him with a kind smile, a happy smile that he was finally going to get some sleep. Then he blew out the candle sitting at the bedside.

“Don’t worry, I intend to keep my word; this is just a story better suited for the dark.”

Jonah was intrigued even more now than he was before. “Do go on.”

A moment of soft laughter was followed by a tense, pensive silence. It seemed to stretch for lifetimes as Robert tried to work out where to begin. “I’ve been having dreams. Terrible ones. Frightening ones. I’ve been having them for years now. They’re all different, and yet each one feels connected, somehow.”

Jonah listened intently, head resting in the palm of his hand as he laid on his side. Robert was still sitting up, propped up against a pillow.

“The first dream I had, I woke up in a field. It stretched as far as I could see in every direction. It was empty of everything except graves. Thousands and thousands of graves; I suspect one for every person on this Earth. When I looked at the one closest to me, it bore the name ‘Robert Smirke,’ and I startled, thinking it meant me, but upon looking at the dates engraved on it, I realised it was my father. Next to it, my mother. My brothers, my sisters. Despite how clearly I remember everything else, I can’t seem to recall the years of their deaths. I kept walking along a path of graves, and soon I found my own. Rather than dwell there because I know that if I were to linger, I would’ve begun to think thoughts I’d rather not. So I kept walking, and I found every person I’ve ever known’s name listed. Everyone was dead. And I suspect that is the nature of life, fear it though you might, Jonah. I think I myself feared it too, then. The sight of all those I know and love, dead, gone. It was horrible. I was hardly a man yet when I had that dream, and I clung to my brother’s side after that night, afraid that soon I’d find myself standing again in that field of graves.”

This was unlike anything Jonah had ever heard before. He’d always been fascinated by the supernatural and the unknown; he’d always wanted to know more, to study them. What Robert was telling him was beyond that though. There was nothing inherently “supernatural” about it. But he was describing a fear that Jonah dwelled on far too much. The image of the thousands of gravestones was all he could picture, and it made him tremble slightly.

After taking a brief moment to collect himself, Robert continued, “In another dream, I had, I was standing in a slaughterhouse. All that surrounded me was blood. Oddly, it did not smell strongly of that so much as it smelled of fear, putrid fear. I don’t know if you know that scent, Jonah; the scent of fear that so strongly permeates the air around you and inside you. A wretched miasma of misery. The absolute horror of, of those animals that had been butchered. Faintly, I could hear the squealing of the pigs as they must’ve begged for their lives, Jonah. After this dream, I would hardly stomach any meat for months. The knowledge of what those animals went through, even if in a dream.”

His own stomach felt queasy at the description.

Robert continued. “Another, I was on a walk with my brothers through the countryside when we happened upon a cavern. Sydney, my younger brother, had been too frightened to journey into it, so Richard had left with him. I remained, however, because I was curious to examine it. But each step I took into this tunnel, it seemed to grow deeper, beckoning me in. When I finally turned to look behind me, I could no longer find the path I had taken; the entrance was nowhere in sight. I couldn’t go back and the tunnel only seemed to pull me forward. The ceiling got lower and the walls closed in as I ventured forward, until I was completely enclosed in this tunnel with no way to escape. I felt as though I was being suffocated; I couldn’t breathe. Finally, when I thought I had passed out from lack of air, I awoke in my bed, perfectly fine,” he took a long, shaky breath. “These dreams Jonah, they feel so real. They are real, I’m certain of it.”

Jonah had pushed himself into a seated position on the bed, taking in what Robert was saying. These dreams of his sounded like just that: dreams. But he knew Robert was an earnest man who had the imagination of a rock for anything other than a design for a building. He knew his dear companion was not making these up.

“There are things beyond us, Jonah. Things that lurk beyond this world, that torment us. These things, I’m sure, are the cause of all our fear. I don’t know anything more about them, yet, but I intend to learn, to find out.” Suddenly, a low, dark laugh filled the room. “You must think me mad, don’t you? I swear to you that I am telling the truth. These dreams have been plaguing me for so long, and I have suffered in silence. But if anyone were to believe me, it would be you.” He almost sounded like he was begging Jonah to understand, to believe him like he feared Jonah might call him insane.

“I,” Jonah tried to find the right words but his mind was racing with ideas and theories, “I believe you. I believe you, and I want to join you in studying these, these entities, these fears.”

Robert, who had been staring forward for the entirety of his recounting, finally looked at Jonah, and he had what looked like tears in his eyes. He reached out and took Jonah’s hands in his own. “I knew I could trust you with this. I knew you and I were kindred spirits in a way that you would want to know this as well. With your mind, I’m certain we’ll discover the truth of these fears, as you put it. We’ll make history.”

Jonah liked the sound of that.

#jonah magnus #robert smirke #tma #jonahmagnusweek #my kingdom for schoolmates to lovers jonahsmirke #warnings for:#implied character death #(kinda)#animal cruelty #claustrophobia

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detective-keen · 4 years

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A wonderful Christmas time / Chloe and Agatha

Where : Christmas marker When : Christmas week Who : @chloeinbetween & @detective-keen

Summary : Agatha drags Chloe out to get some fresh air and rediscover the warmth of Christmas time.

TW: chronic illness, domestic abuse mention, emotional abuse mention, lydiaplot cw

The sky cleared shortly after lunch, and when Chloe suggested a trip to the Christmas market, Agatha immediately agreed. Did she feel guilty for not being able to help her more? Nothing was more uncertain. Agatha reassured herself by telling herself that she was helping her by offering her a place to stay while she could settle in a place all to herself, but she could see that the young woman was not doing well. And she wondered how it was possible that Lydia could have orchestrated such horrors for so long, without ever having been arrested. Agatha told herself that it was impossible that no one suspected her. She wasn't really like other humans, that infamous woman, that monster hiding behind her picturesque beauty, but she must have been spotted at one point or another. Her crimes had started a long time ago. Agatha found it hard to conceptualize all of this, but she firmly believed that the oldest ID cards they had found were those of the baleful fae's oldest victims. So many lives destroyed couldn’t possibly leave anyone undisturbed…

The lights at the Christmas market weren't bright enough to bring joy back to the young woman's heart, while her mind remained troubled by the whole ordeal. She often thought about it. Although Agatha shared the case with others, she was determined to find Lydia, and put her behind bars, the murderous bitch. That was all she deserved: to have all power taken away from her, and to rot, to turn dull, and to die out. To suffer as she had made all these people suffer. This was an adequate punishment.

A mulled wine stand brought her back years, and pulled her out of her thoughts. As a child, she remembered that her father and mother made that. The scent of spices then perfumed the whole house, announcing the arrival of Christmas dinner, the gifts, of her cousins, and Christmas movies while the grown-ups conversed about subjects that did not interest her.

Agatha approached it. Her cheeks rose from the cold, she turned to Chloe and smiled at her before asking if she wanted some. "It was kind of a tradition in my family," she explained, as she pulled out her wallet to pay the seller.

Chloe had bought herself a new coat, new woolen sweater, new hat and gloves, all so that in the hours she had energy to, she could enjoy being outside. Even the most wretched places could be made to look magical with the right collection of LEDs and pretty market stalls. In the early afternoon, the sun was already low, and the air was refreshingly biting against her skin. Since she’d moved her things over to Agatha’s, she’d seen Agatha’s concerned looks on more than one occasion. A dozen pills for a dozen different ailments, all brought on by her last four years. Not that the doctors saw it like that. Not that Chloe really cared what the doctors thought was the cause for everything. She just wanted to manage it, day by day, so that she could do things like this. Walk around the christmas market with Agatha, drinking in all the sights and smells. Cinnamon and cloves and hand made candles in every shape and size. She followed Agatha with almost a childlike wonder at all the lights, not even realising where they’d stopped until she looked around. “Yeah, yeah I would. This and… and peppermint bark was always something I picked up around christmas time.”

Agatha handed the paper cup to Chloe. She was delighted to see that there was an ingenuous and awe-inspiring glow in the other woman's gaze, as she was surrounded by equally heartwarming lights, sounds and smells. If Chloe felt like a lump of coal on the verge of going out most of the time, and though she was far from a fanned flame now, there was a light in her and that was already a lot.

Agatha couldn't help but worry. She knew full well that Chloe was not out of the woods, that leaving Lydia had cost her dearly, and that no one could guess what would happen next. So it was foolish to get attached to this young woman in any way - Agatha had never been one to depend on others and was not too worried about that- and yet that was what she did when spending time with Chloe. Maybe she would regret it, but for the moment it seemed more important to help her rebuild. She owed her that much, she who still felt so guilty for shooting her colleague, for having seen Todd die without being able to intervene, for not understanding, for not being able to really help as she wanted.

"Peppermint bark?" Agatha couldn't recall the last time she had eaten that. It had never really been a thing that they had done with her parents, but she could understand how important those things were. The market was a bit crowded, and she had to squeeze through passersby to access the stall. They sold all kinds of things here. If her eyes were caught by the sight of waffles the size of her head, she searched for the sought after bark instead. "Ah, there we go," Turning her back to the tempting waffles, Agatha, wide-eyed, couldn't escape what she had in front of her. A stall as ostentatious as it was in bad taste faced her. In the middle of a decor entirely done in black and white, people in black leotards, their faces painted white, squirmed silently around a large box covered with stripes. Although she didn't yet believe that mimes were innately evil creatures, she still felt deeply uncomfortable when confronted with their weirdness. “We should get away from here,” she turned to check on Chloe, and once again her eyes were caught by the food. Food certainly was a good way to make her forget about the cursed sights of this town. “I’ve never heard of that,” narrowing her eyes at a label, she read out “Hops in the stomach ?” The little gums, shaped like rabbits, looked quite adorable, but she simply couldn’t believe that tagline. Still she was intrigued. “Well now I have to try that. Do you want to pick a mix with me Chloe?” She offered, hoping that she wouldn’t end up eating these on her own.

Chloe chuckled at the way Agatha’s eyes clung to the waffles greedily, and when Chloe inhaled the smell of warm caramelised sugar was incredibly tantalising. “You can have some, you know, I don’t mind waiting!” Chloe said softly, her protest mild. it felt wrong, trying to give people permission to do things, which made it all the more important to do, right? But as Agatha turned, Chloe froze as well, staring at the black and white theme. It was one thing to awkwardly dodge a security guard, another to see a stall covered in stripes. The mimes…. signed at her silently and without malice, but she still shivered and shuffled past them awkwardly. For a second, Chloe lost sight of Agatha in the crowd and began to panic, before realising that she was in front of a different stall. Candies of every stripe and flavour were lined up in cotton bags, offered up for them to build their own pick and mix bag from. Chloe touched Agatha’s arm for a split second just to reassure herself that she was real and there, before smiling nervously and nodding. “Yeah, sure.” The cashier offered them a paper bag, and Chloe started with a small scoop of ‘Fizzing fireworks,” that looked like little liquorice beans. “Your turn to choose the next ones?”

Agatha pursed her lips to the side, as if she doubted her ability to gobble up one of those waffles whole. If she couldn't finish it, she could always give a piece to her new friend. Finally deciding to order one, she walked away to get some napkins at the other end of the stall and lost sight of Chloe for a moment. The latter approaching her, she gave him a beaming smile, before trying to wipe away the sugar from the corners of her lips. “Let’s see…” she glanced at the paper bag, watching the liquorice bean cover the rabbits. “Mmmh, what about… Coco bombs.” The white chocolate balls were covered in coconut flakes, looking like they begged to end up in her stomach. “Would you like a piece of my waffle?” She wanted to save space for the candy now, and knew that the waffle would take too much room if she were to finish it alone. Giving Chloe a puppy eyed look, she tore a piece of waffle off, handing it to her : “Come on, it’s great. You won’t regret it,” she assured her.

“Oh, uh, just a small piece,” Chloe agreed, her eyes widening as Agatha dropped a chunk in her hand before she’d even finished her sentence. She took a small bite, and smiled gratefully. Even if she wanted to there was a lump in her throat that held back the word thank you. As the sugar of the waffle dissolved in Chloe‘s mouth, she remembered that she was not used to this kind of sweetness, neither the kind from the waffle nor the kind from Agatha. Between the two of them, they quickly selected a few more flavours for their bag of sweets before putting it on the weighing scale. Chloe tapped her card against the reader – contactless was also something that she was still getting used to – and picked up the bag offering the first one to Agatha. “My treat,” she said, before looking around. “Let’s get away from the mimes first, actually.”

Agatha deadpanned. "I'm nothing but generous," she was not usually one to share her food with others, but she told herself that Chloe had been deprived for too long of the greatness of waffles, and that anyway, she needed room for the candy they were picking out. And if it could let Chloe see that there were kind people still populating the Earth then all the better. She licked her lips and wiped her mouth clean all at once, which now that she had done it, didn't seem like the brightest thing she had ever done. Her eyebrows raised, she looked at Chloe as she rubbed her hand against her slacks. "Don't. I'm clearly not as smart as I claim to be," with a giggle, she looked back at her waffle and sighed. Thank God she did not believe in things being too pretty to be eaten. What kind of nonsense was that?

"You know what, excellent idea," she didn't protest about Chloe paying for the sweets, although she had that thankful look in her eyes as she looked at her. "I gotta say, I don't feel comfortable around them either. They are just so weird, you know?" She shook her head, mimicking a shiver. "You should see their bar and restaurant. Awful. I mean the food's alright, but... Well let's just say I'll never bring you to those," some people claimed that mimes were evil. While Agatha rolled her eyes at that, she understood why someone might think so. There was an uncanny, unsettling vibe that seemed to envelop these artists. Taking a piece of candy from the bag, she put it in her mouth and while she was pleased with the taste, she felt as if there was something tickling her throat and she couldn't repress laughter as she put her hand to her neck. "No, no. I hate being tickled," she cried.

“Oh! Someone gave me a map of all the mime related places to avoid. I was almost…. well, I was attacked by one a while back, so, they’re high on my radar to avoid,” Chloe whispered, looking furtively at the mimes to see if they were listening. One mimed a smile at her, and she quickly jerked back to look at Agatha. “I’m shocked to learn that the food is enjoyable at all. Their meal delivery service leaves… a lot to be desired.” Once they were out of sight of the mimes, Chloe was more than comfortable to pluck a treat out of the bag for herself/. Chloe bit down on the candy as she turned back to Agatha in bemusion. “I’m… not tickling you?” Chloe replied, staring at Agatha in growing concern as the woman jerked and flinched while laughing unrelentingly. “Are... you okay?” The candy in her mouth began to pop and fizz like pop rocks on steroids, and when she opened her mouth little sparks like fireworks popped out. Chloe’s eyes widened with alarm, although the sweet sour flavour was in fact… surprisingly enjoyable.

“That’s a thoughtful thing to do,” she might have not been scared by those mimes, they were unsettling to her, and the only reason she had pushed the door to their restaurant was for the food. Her mother had made her promise not to take her there ever again, which while it seemed a bit much, also did not feel too weird to her. The music being played on loop alone could have justified this permanent decision. “It’s not the best food in town, but there’s something about it, I couldn’t be able to tell what it is, that makes you want to get more.” It was only her promise to her mother that had kept her from going back. Then, after a while, this need to go back had faded naturally. Of course Agatha could not suspect that it had to do with a very special ingredient.

“I had no idea they did meal deliveries, although if you say that it’s atrocious, I think I’ll save myself from this pain.” She remembered that the former sergeant used to eat food from such services. She wondered if he had been a customer of this one too.

The mimes now at a distance, she could tell that Chloe was a little bit more relaxed, to the point of giving her tickles. I’m… not tickling you? She was not. Her eyes a bit wider, she looked at Chloe with worry as she saw light, bursts of light, almost like tiny fireworks escaping her mouth. Still, the detective wiggled her torso, holding her arm to protect herself from tickles, only for those to start somewhere else. It was when she felt it reach her feet (and then promptly fade away) that she was left with this odd feeling : what did I just eat? The candy was really good, but that kind of effect was not one she ever had experienced with food. Carefully, she picked another. It must have been the one Chloe had just eaten, because along with the fizziness, came the same outburst of light: sparks shooted out of her mouth, but it was the flavour of the candy that satisfied her the most. She couldn’t recall trying any that had been so intense with their taste. “Those are so good?!”

“I don’t know if it’s from the actual restaurant, because Lydia actually kinda liked the restaurant, but the food is so bad,” Chloe replied almost thoughtlessly, before freezing. People always got weird when she mentioned Lydia, because for them it was such a nightmare while for Chloe it… had been a nightmare, but it had also been her reality. Talking about Lydia was habit… just not for anyone else. She had no idea how Agatha would respond, if at all, but she was relieved for the distraction.

Chloe was not convinced good was the word she’d describe the flavour she was experiencing. It was as if her tongue was completely incapable of tasting anything else ever, she’d hit maximum flavour capacity. How did they even do that?/ Had candy making technologies really improve that much in just four years? As quickly as it had been there, it melted away into her mouth, not even leaving a trace. Intrigued, Chloe plucked another out of the bag. She balked. In her hand was a small black and white striped hard candy, even though neither of them had selected them. Making an executive decision, Chloe chucked the mime candy on the ground and stamped on it. The hard candy cracked under her heel silently, and when she checked underneath her shoe, it was gone. “I hate that,” chloe said softly, before plopping another candy in her mouth. “Oh, oh, this one is a little like a jawbreaker? It keeps, oh, this is good, each layer is changing flavour.” Apple, cherry, cola, strawberry, mint, it was changing very fast but the effect was never too jarring.

The name of Lydia should have brought an eyebrow raise from Agatha. Instead, she glanced at Chloe, wondering if she should have said something. The woman chose to remain quiet. Chloe must have spoken about what had happened with Lydia hundreds of times already, to her, to other detectives, to psychiatrists and more, each time reliving it over again. It was only cruel to ask if she wanted to talk about it every time Lydia’s name would be mentioned. Someone eager to get details might pretend to “care”, but caring was allowing Chloe to talk about it when she wanted to, listening and being there for her.

A change in the conversation came, naturally, unexpectedly, in the shape of a striped round hard candy. She watched as the other woman crushed it under her shoe, expecting a satisfying sight, but there was no trace left of it. “Holy fucking Mary, what in the goddamn,” it seemed Chloe was not so impressed, but rather blasée. It must have seemed weak compared to what she had been through, Agatha figured. “Hate is the word,” she agreed. She picked through the bag to check whether some other black and white horrors had found their way in it. “I wonder how those ended up here. The shop owner didn’t seem like one of them,” there she was, speaking like those she once considered agents of chaos ; people that she once put in the same box as flat earthers or evolution theory deniers : the mime haters. She did not want to be so prejudiced against them, but they did not do much to help their case. “Really? Isn’t it a bit too much?” She wondered how they had achieved that without it all feeling like a tasteless mixture. “I’m sorry about the mimes. But hey, those weirdos aside, how do you like the market so far? Pretty nice, huh? It’s not Germany, but I’d say we’re doing pretty good.”

“I’m definitely just pretending that didn’t exist,” Chloe said weakly about the mime candy, with a false smile that didn’t quite match her jitters. “Seriously, seriously don’t eat any striped food.” She walked them along the stalls as Agatha checked for more dangerous treats, chewing on the red wine flavoured sweet in her mouth. “It is a bit much,” Chloe chuckled, but finished the treat all the same, gulping it down when it tasted like cinnamon and apple crumble. “No! I’m enjoying it. Really. Thanks for… hauling me out here. I know I took some convincing.” Because of the fae she was sure she’d encounter between the fairy lights. It was good to be reminded that sweetness lingered in this town too. “Let’s go experience the rest of it?” Chloe suggested quietly. It had been so long since she’d been allowed to want. She would cherish every christmas-light moment of it.

#domestic abuse tw #emotional abuse tw #chronic illness tw #lydiaplot cw #wickedswriting #para #chatzy #para chloe

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poisxnyouth · 4 years

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bad influence dave part 6 (d.d)

A/N: hey whores!!! enjoy this. it’s a good one! i’m very proud of it. as always, let me know what you think of it. spark up a conversation about something in it with u and i’ll give u a big ol smooch. i love you and thank you for reading <33 -hailey

WC: 3.35K

David is sitting in the pews with you during Mass, arm draped around the back of your seat as one of your brothers, next to you, discreetly slips a wad of cash into David’s dangling hand. He removes his arm from around you, fingers quickly counting the amount – seventy dollars for seven grams, split between Mark and Matthew – and reaches into his breast pocket. David passes you the two miniature pill bags, each containing an eighth of an ounce, and watches as you quietly place them in Mark’s hand.

David casually rests his arm on the back of the pew again, eyes scanning the cathedral warily for any witnesses. He does more business at church than he’d like to admit – which is of your doing, not his. The list no longer begins with Michael and ends with Mark; his clientele has amassed, and a good chunk of his dealings are done after church. You and David meet people as they are heading to post-Mass breakfast in places throughout the city, forcing him to leave large amounts of weed in his car unattended. He doesn't like it, and fears getting searched by dogs, causing David to quadruple seal the amount of weed he intends to sell.

The night before, Saturday evening, he weighs everything out, separates it for each person, puts it all in one colossal Ziploc, and puts the Ziploc inside of another one. Four times. These bags have earned the chief title of his weed Russian dolls, and David seals up the final plastic bag by wrapping it tightly in duct tape. It’s a grueling process, and he hates that he has to do it.

You and David deal afterwards, mint toothpicks in rotation as he makes his pit stops, replacing the ideal cigarette his fingers are desperately itching for. Part of him has a desire to quit his horrible habit; maybe get prescribed Chantix, switch to Nicorette, anything else he could possibly do — but every time he thinks too deeply about it, he instantly changes his mind.

David likes the routine of it all; he likes the purchase of the Camels, heartily tapping the bottom of the plastic wrapped pack against the dirty gas station counter as he glances down at the scratch offs and slides his debit card through the reader. He likes hopping in the car and rolling his window down, unwrapping the new pack and opening the top. He can smell the crisp scent of the tobacco at the mere thought of a new box, and he likes the tight wiggle of the first cigarette as he tugs it out. He likes tearing out the little foil at the top for easier access later down the line, and he likes flipping his lighter open loudly, thumb rolling the spark wheel and bringing the tip of his cigarette to the flame. He likes the smell of the smoke, and he likes the feeling of his lungs filling up as he takes the first drag. He likes how the scent infiltrates his clothing, his hair, his skin – many people despise it, but it's his favorite. It’s a distinct red flag of the addiction he has a soft spot for, the one he wouldn’t want to give up, for others to see and judge him upon. He doesn’t mind it and doesn't care for their opinion; it is something many people hate themselves for, but he takes pride in it. He loves that he smokes.

You don't know the extent of it, but he feels this way about sex, too.

David takes you on expensive dates at opulent restaurants, and he swears he feels his eyes zero in every time you take a sip of the dry merlot he ordered for you, your suggestive gaze peeking at him over the rim of the glass. He attempts to not pay attention to the way your lipstick has tainted the edge of it, momentarily considering the image of what those specific lipstick prints would look like at the base of his dick. He tilts his head to the side as he watches you wipe politely at your lips after taking a sip, blush coming to your cheeks at whatever provocative joke he had just made. He hates lipstick, but adores the mess it leaves behind, depending on the night, the dress, and the purse. Sometimes he has trouble getting a deep plum out of the collar of his dress shirt; a delicate and innocuous pale pink blended into the skin on his chest; or — his favorite — a deep scarlet smeared down his first two, maybe three, fingers as he slides them slowly into your mouth, last knuckle tucked in as you give him doe eyes.

He even likes when he wakes up the next morning hungover, bowtie still hanging around his neck and dress shirt unbuttoned as he looks in the mirror, a ruby red smeared across his mouth and cheeks from the night prior. He likes peeking over at you out of the bathroom door, knocked out in his bed and still in your dress, with the same red smear evident across your face.

David has no desire at all, but also every desire on the planet, to have sex with you. You’re too clean — it makes him nervous.

He hints at this fact over dinner one week when the subject of sex comes up as he nurses a whiskey sour in a stout glass, waiting for your food, “I roughen you up…”

“And I let you roll around in the dirt for a while,” David continues, eyes glued to yours as he takes a sip and smacks his lips, “But you go home and you rinse it all off, and I start all over the next day, and the next day after that.”

You stare at him with big eyes, not saying anything. He opens his mouth to speak again, placing his cup down on the cocktail napkin and sliding it around in a fidgety manner, “I want you to let it sink in, and let it stain.”

You nod at his command, reaching for his glass and taking a liberal sip. Your lipstick stains it. “What if sex is the way to make it all stay?”

David pauses, scoffing slightly, “It could be. Honey, you go to church twice a week. You bless yourself at every turn.”

“How do you even picture it?” He asks curiously, leaning forward, “Like every teenage girl? Candles around the bed? Romantic sex with your beau?”

You don’t answer him, taking a long swallow of your wine, and he continues, shaking his head, “I can promise you right now, sweetheart – if that's what you’re hoping for, you won’t be getting it.”

“Does it matter how I want it?” you reply, playing his game, “What do you want?”

“I want to chew you up and spit you out,” David replies easily, signaling for your waiter, “Do this again.”

“But I’m not going to,” he rejects, fiddling with his gold cufflinks, “Just know that I want to.”

“What does that mean?” you ask him, “Give me details.”

“I see you right here and right now, dressed in my money and my hustle. That dress is so tight that you wiggle side to side when you walk, and you could barely sit down in the booth earlier. I think about taking you to the Waldorf – up a few streets, and over a few streets, by Lake Shore – getting us a room, and having my way with you all night.”

“Why a hotel?”

His second drink comes, cutting him off before he begins. David takes a long sip, eyes not tearing away from you, “Because you walk out with the same things you walked in with. We get to do that little messy walk of shame all the way back home to Wilmette on the train, and you finally feel like the whore you’ve always been. You will find something out, my love — your God,” he pauses slightly, “can do anything and everything but pull the slut out of you, sweetheart.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” you respond, finishing your glass of wine, “Why don't you?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I know there must be more,” you state, watching as David fills your glass again with the bottle on the table, a silent beckoning to continue drinking with him. “Go on.”

“Why ruin the surprise?” He asks, speaking too duplicitous for him to not have something hidden under his sleeve, tainted by his guise of promiscuity. “I know you think about it too.”

“Yours are better,” you tell him, urging him to continue, “Hearing you talk about it means seeing how you look at me when you speak.”

David pauses, taking another swig and meeting your eyes, “I want to unzip that dress as slowly as I can; so slowly that you just beg me to get it off you. Self-control is the one thing I have that you never will. I can’t share that with you.”

“And I see that little crucifix of yours always staring right at me, meaning more to you than me, and for a split second, I feel a little guilty. You do your time and your due diligence; you go to church every Sunday, pray every day and night, all of that. But then…,” he trails as he looks away, shaking his glass and listening to the ice slide around.

“I think about you afterwards,” he meets your eyes again, “Messy. You asked for it but didn't know what it would entail, or when you feel bad that you enjoyed how I made you feel. Better yet, when you’re kneeling at the side of the bed on your bruised knees — evidence from me — praying for absolution and salvation.”

“...But?” you ask quietly, clinging to his every word.

“But…” David continues, taking another casual sip and speaking slowly, “It’s too late. The damage is done. I get to see you do that, and I get the satisfaction of knowing that I just ruined your life.”

“I’ve always said that I want you to, though,” you quip, “And you’ve always said that you want to. If that's the answer to keeping me…” you roll your eyes at the word you’re about to say, blush coming to your cheeks, “dirty, then do it. I’m a big girl; I can handle it. I dare you.”

“I would jump your bones right now if I could,” David swears shamelessly, “Think about all of the hoops we’ll have to jump through. The food, the check, getting to the hotel, booking the room…”

“We don't need to eat,” you offer, “Let’s finish our drinks, pay, and leave.”

“I should've known that you’d be impatient,” he says, “You’re going to be drunk off your ass if you keep going, sweetheart. I don't like the ethics of where this is going. I’m still fine.”

“Then you have another drink,” you give him a solution, “Or however many it’ll take for you to get like me and keep talking to me. I’ll cut you off when your words are slurring.”

“Your words are slurring, baby,” he shakes his head, sliding the orange slice off the cocktail pick and dropping it into the liquor. David removes the Maraschino cherry and passes it to you, staring as your teeth tug it from the stem.

He makes a soft noise at the sight, and bites at his lips when you slip the stem past your lips, speaking, “Don’t tell me you know how to do that shit.”

Seconds pass and David continues staring as he finishes his drink, eyes trained on your mouth before the knot emerges and you drop it on his cocktail napkin. He exhales and drops his voice, “I will bend you over this table right now.”

He motions for the waiter, “Change of plans – no food for us. Water and a lemon drop for her, and I’ll switch to a Manhattan.”

“You know, every cocktail is twenty bucks,” you say, watching him play with the band of his watch, “The wine was-”

“Don’t count the tab, sweet girl,” David shakes his head, refocusing his attention on to you, “I don't even look anymore. Neither should you. Price doesn't matter.”

The drinks come moments later, and he continues, “I’m cutting you off after this. You’re drunk.”

"Keep talking,” you giggle, eyes on his, “Your voice is sexy, and I like hearing what you want to do to me.”

"You don't know what you're in for,” David says casually, dunking the cherry into the liquor before passing the cocktail pick to you, listening to the delicate noise of your teeth scraping the metal while you take it into your mouth. “I might make you walk to the hotel just so I can see that sway of your hips. I love that dress you're wearing; the bow on the back makes you look like my little present. What else will Santa bring me this December?”

“You’re so cocky,” you comment offhandedly, “Not everything is for you.”

“You and I both know that’s not true. Quit lying,” he shakes his head again, laughing slightly, “Don’t tell me you don’t think about it every day.”

You feel yourself flush as you drink more, still attempting to decide if it’s from the alcohol or his words before he speaks again, slutty drawl, “Look at you! I haven’t seen you this red since we first met. Cute ass.”

“What can I say,” you shrug, embarrassed, “You’re sexy.”

David leans forward interestedly, forearms resting on the table, “Am I?”

You nod sheepishly before he continues, eyes on yours, “Your napkin is on your lap?”

You nod again, now confused, but David clarifies his motive, ordering in a low voice, “Slip your hand up your dress, under your napkin, and tell me how wet you are.”

“Make your next drink a double and it’s a deal,” you offer, thighs pressing together as you already obey him, playing off your rebellion.

“Don’t bargain with me,” he shakes his head, eyebrows scrunching together, “Do as I say, or the only place we’ll be going tonight is back home.”

He watches your face deliberately as you listen to his demand, eyeing the way you take your lips between your teeth, “Stop touching yourself, you whore. We’re in public.”

You stop, embarrassed, and he continues after finishing his third drink, “I made reservations here just for you to cancel the food, beg for sex and touch yourself under the table. Why do I try to take you anywhere nice?”

David’s drinks are hitting him, now, and before you can reply to him, he’s motioning for the waiter again, “The check and another Manhattan for me. Can someone get us a cab? I think it’s obvious we’re in no shape to drive.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, looking between you, “Where are you headed?”

“Waldorf Astoria,” David replies, “Thank you so much.”

David finishes his drink once it's on the table, fingers reaching for the check. He doesn't flinch at the steep price and tips well, nearly fifty percent, and puts three hundred-dollar bills on the table after removing his money clip from his pocket.

The cab is dirty, as they all are, and David instantly tugs you into his lap, groaning softly, “You smell so good.”

You giggle slightly and attempt to undo the top button of his dress shirt, fiddling with it until it's undone and untying his bow tie. His palms reach around and squeeze at your ass through your dress as you plant kisses down his chest, marking your man until the lipstick prints run clear.

He kisses you, now, tongue sliding against yours and making a drunken noise of satisfaction, “You want this?”

You nod against him, his hands gripping your waist and you kiss David again, “Yes. I dare you.”

“Be careful what you wish for, sweet girl,” he pushes your hair from out of your face as you drown in skyscrapers, tugging you closer by your chin, “We’re getting a suite, and I’m fucking you on every surface possible. Don’t say no.”

Too much liquor in David’s system turns him into an even bolder character, and you’re both drunk as you lean against the receptionist counter at the Waldorf Astoria, attempting to book a suite.

The all-too-patient receptionist tells him a price — more than you would ever pay for a hotel room — and David reaches into his pocket for his money clip. He quickly counts it out and she shakes her head, but you’re already too disinterested and don’t bother paying attention. Five minutes later, he’s lacing your fingers together and tugging you through the lobby, impatiently pressing the elevator button numerous times.

“Jeez,” you comment, eyeing the lipstick print peeking out of his rebuttoned dress shirt, “Someone’s antsy.”

“You’re a fucking tease,” David excuses, pulling you inside and hitting the button for your floor, “My dick’s been hard since the restaurant. It’s all I can think about.”

He kisses you until the elevator pings, still tasting of liquor and the cigarette he smoked in the courtyard, “I love you.”

You repeat it as he leads you by your waist to the room, watching the sway of your hips and the little bow flounce with every step you take. David doesn't know how this took him so long.

He quickly slides the key in and out of the reader, opening the door for you and allowing you to walk in. David instantly shuts the door and presses you up against it, wrapping your legs around his torso as he kisses at your neck sloppily. Your fingers from both hands find the length of his bow tie, tugging his head up and attaching your mouths. You move to hastily unfasten the buttons of his shirt, untucking the garment from his pants. David blindly shrugs off his jacket and his shirt, carelessly dropping the items to the floor as you kick off your heels.

You feel his fingers tug slightly at the zipper of your dress before stopping himself, relocating his hands to your ass and pushing you forward into him. You both make a noise at the friction into each other's mouths, giggling slightly and urging David to quickly turn you around, bending you over against the door and pressing your face against it.

“Should I take these off or are you matching? Don't wanna miss that,” he slides his touch upwards and hooks his fingertips into the sides of your underwear, leaning over and cross necklace dangling.

“I’m matching,” you reply before he murmurs an incoherent response, pushing your dress up and sliding your underwear to the side in place of tugging them off.

“Mmm,” David mumbles at the sight, spreading you slightly before slowly putting his mouth on you. His hands hold your thighs apart as he drunkenly works, eyes closed.

“Are you gonna fuck me right here?” you ask him, words slurred as he stops his movements, standing and spinning you back around.

“D’you want me to?” David replies, hands resting delicately on your waist as he presses gentle kisses back down your neck with a different kind of sensual candor.

“Fuck yes,” you nod, eyes closed, “But get this dress the fuck off of me.”

“I told you so,” David responds cockily, reaching up near the nape of your neck and slowly tugging at the zipper, “Did I not?”

“You did,” you nod again, feeling the air slowly hit your back as he undoes it as deliberately as possible. You take it upon yourself to reach down and begin unbuckling his belt, undoing the top button and unzipping him.

He doesn't stop you, hitting the bottom of your zipper as you tug his dick out and spit in your hand, beginning to work him over. David makes a noise and pushes the sleeves of your dress over your shoulders, forcing you to momentarily stand. It pools at your feet before he’s propping you against the door again, arms wrapped around your torso.

“We’re drunk,” he comments, kissing you sloppily, “What’re you so tense for? Relax.”

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quitsmokingin10days · 3 years

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Best Tips for When You Quit Smoking In 10 Days 2021

We all want this quit-smoking attempt to be the quit—the one that lasts us a lifetime. We're looking for permanent freedom from nicotine addiction when we stub out the last cigarette and begin to heal our bodies.

Luckily, there are many tips and strategies that can help you quit smoking and make it stick. By learning what you should (and shouldn't) do when trying to quit, and educating yourself about what happens when you stop smoking, you can ensure you are successful in your smoking cessation plans.

Take Care of Yourself

Early smoking cessation is a time when you should be taking extra care to make sure all of your physical needs are met. Taking care of your body, especially as you move through early cessation, will help you minimize the discomforts of nicotine withdrawal.

The following list of tips will help you weather nicotine withdrawal more comfortably:

Eat a well-balanced diet. Your body needs good-quality fuel now as it works to flush the toxins from cigarettes out of your system.

Get more rest. Chances are, nicotine withdrawal will leave you feeling fatigued for a few weeks. If you're tired, don't fight it. Sleep more if you can. Nine times out of 10, you'll wake up feeling 100% better the next day, and when you do, you'll be grateful to still be smoke-free.

Drink water. Water is a great quit aid. It helps you detox more quickly and works well as a craving buster. By keeping yourself hydrated, you'll feel better overall. Exercise daily. Exercise benefits both physical and mental health, and it's another good way to manage cravings to smoke. Walking is a low-impact aerobic workout that is a good choice3 for those of us leading inactive lives. Be sure to check in with your doctor before starting a new exercise regimen.

Take a daily multivitamin. Cigarettes deplete our bodies of many nutrients,4 so give yourself the boost that a good multivitamin provides for the first few months of smoking cessation. It may help you regain your energy more quickly.

Avoid Alcohol

Alcohol and tobacco go hand-in-hand, with studies showing high relapse rates in people with alcohol use disorders.5

Even if you just drink occasionally, putting yourself into a social setting where you're tempted to drink alcohol too soon after quitting can be dangerous. Don't rush it. New quitters are tender. The time will come when you can have a drink without it triggering the urge to smoke, but don't expect that to be within the first month, or perhaps even the first few months.

We're all a little different in how we move through the process of kicking nicotine addiction, so relax any preconceived notions you might have about how long recovery should take. Instead, focus on your own situation.

If there is an engagement coming up that involves alcohol and you feel nervous about that, take it as a signal to proceed with caution. Consider postponing until you're feeling stronger. And if that's not an option, work out a plan ahead of time for how you'll manage the event smoke-free.

Find Ways to Manage Stress

We've talked about taking care not to neglect our physical health while going through nicotine withdrawal, but our emotional well-being is every bit as important. Stress and anger are probably two of the biggest smoking triggers we face, and they can build up and threaten our quit programs if we're not careful.

Early cessation creates its own tension, and that can be overwhelming when paired with the stresses of daily life if you let it be.6�� Don't let yourself get run down to the point of exhaustion, and take time every single day to relieve stress with an activity that you enjoy.

Here are a few relaxing activities to try to help you better manage the stress of quitting smoking:

Take a warm bath. Enjoying a bath is a great way to de-stress and distract yourself from thoughts of smoking. Light a few candles, use some scented bath salts, and sit back and relax. Go for a brisk walk. Lacing up your sneakers and heading outside for a brisk walk (even if only for 15 minutes) can help reduce edginess and stress. Try visualization. Take a few minutes to close your eyes and visualize a relaxing place (real or imaginary) in your mind. Get comfortable, take a deep breath, and go there when you feel the stress building up.

2021 Best Program On How To Quit Smoking In 10 Days

Stay Positive About Your Progress

It's been said that the average person has approximately 66,000 thoughts on any given day and that two-thirds of them are negative. It will probably come as no surprise that we aim many of those negative thoughts directly at ourselves. Face it, we're almost always our own worst critics.

Quitting is a process, and staying positive can help you endure the ups and downs as you work to reach your quit-smoking goals. Here are a few stay-positive strategies to add to your quit-smoking toolbox.

Practice quit-smoking affirmations. Find a few positive messages or mini mantras you can repeat to yourself to help you stay the quit-smoking course, like “I am strong enough to beat nicotine,” or “I choose my health over cigarettes.” Keep a gratitude journal. Maintaining a gratitude journal makes it easy to get in the habit of focusing on the positive in your life while also reaping the stress-management benefits of journaling. Find help in humor. Seeking out sources of humor, whether a silly video, hilarious sitcom, or funny friend, can help lessen your stress and enable you to think more positive thoughts. Be kind to yourself. Start paying attention to your thoughts, and banish those that don't serve your best interests,2 including lamenting the things you can't change, such as the years you spent smoking. Focus on the positive changes. Look at past quit attempts not as failures, but as experiences you can learn from as you work to create positive changes in your life by quitting tobacco now. If you affirm the positive changes you are making in your life, action will follow more easily. Put yourself on "ignore mode." You will have bad days. Expect and accept that. Such is smoking cessation, and such is life. On those off days, vow to put yourself in "ignore mode." In other words, don't focus on the negative atmosphere of your thoughts.2 Instead, do what you can to distract and ignore your bad mood. Reframe negative thinking. Take notice when you begin to think negative thoughts like "I can't do this another day" or "this is too hard," and make an effort to replace them with something more positive like "I'm trying each day," or "this is challenging but necessary for my health."

Focus on the Present

Nicotine withdrawal plays mind games with us early on in smoking cessation. We think about smoking all of the time, and we worry that we'll always miss our cigarettes.

For the new quitter, it can be paralyzing to think about never lighting another cigarette. Thoughts like this, if left unchecked, can easily lead to a smoking relapse.

If you find yourself feeling panicked about your smoke-free future, pull out of it by focusing your attention only on the day you have in front of you. It takes practice and patience to stay in the here and now, but it can be done, and it is a great way to maintain control over your quit program.

The next time your mind wanders ahead or back, consciously pull yourself out of it by narrowing your attention to the moments you're living right now. Your power to affect change in your life is today, and always will be. You can't do a thing about what happened yesterday or about what is yet to come tomorrow, but you sure can control today.

#QuitSmokingIn10Daysreview #QuitSmoking2021 #quitsmokingin10days #quitsmokingtips #quitsmoking #howtoquitmoking #howtoavoidsmoking

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outranks · 5 years

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If you’re still taking requests, how about a fluffy fic with John Seed x Dep/reader where the reader is shy and isn’t experienced with romance. Maybe she always gets flustered when John does something romantic for her and she’s always giggly and shy when he kisses her? Thx for considering my request!

thank you so much for requesting!! ❤️❤️❤️I don’t think I’ve ever written a shy character before, so I really did my best with this and I hope it’s what you were looking for!!

John Seed / Reader

–

Somehow, when you weren’t paying attention, Seed Ranch has become familiar to you. Not so much that you can map the layout in your sleep, but enough that you’ve come to expect the creak of the floorboards near the back door, or Peggies going about their business as they pretend not to see you whenever you arrive. It should be concerning in some small way— the fact that John no longer fits in the neat little box labeled “enemy”, but instead it’s becoming a small comfort to you. It’s the one place in the county that feels like you could belong.

You pause by the door, breathing in the scent of food cooking in the kitchen. and drop your bag on a chair in the corner. John is an ally, if only in companionable stress, but that’s enough for now and it’s brought you to a temporary truce. You agree to destroy fewer of his properties, and he agrees to fewer forced baptisms.

It’s simple, but effective.

“John?” you call, hoping to alert him to your presence before you step into view of his office. “I just wanted to use your shower before I go… do a favor for something…” It’s a request from Mary May, but you’re still debating how much you want to put another weaponized truck onto the playing field. Plus, you might be new at your job, but ‘machine gun mounted truck’ sounds pretty illegal.

John startles when he sees you, brushing his hair back as if a single strand had ever been out of place. “You’re here.”

“I— yeah, I am,” you say. “Should I not be?”

“I was thinking that we could have dinner,” he says. “Together.”

You freeze, trying to think of all the reasons he might be asking. “To work out another deal?”

John frowns. “To eat.”

“Food?”

“What else would it be?”

“Together?”

“Are you alright?”

You definitely don’t feel alright and a laugh bubbles up inside your chest. “That almost sounds like a date,” you say, tripping over the words as your mind spins in circles trying to rationalize the idea of John wanting a date. Last you checked, the two of you were at the tentative friends stage if your relationship, and you were comfortable there. It’s safe there. Anything else would be unprofessional at best and a huge mistake where you end up on a date with John Seed at worst.

And yet, in spite of your racing heart, the idea of dinner with just the two of you sounds really nice.

“It is a date,” John says, standing up and stepping around his desk. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just, I don’t really—” you make a few vague, meaningless hand gestures— “do that kind of thing.”

“You don’t eat dinner?”

“Well no, not recently.” The last genuine meal you had was about a week ago when Hurk invited you over for a ‘our county has been taken over by a cult’ barbeque. “I mean, the date thing.” You brush your hair back and start to play with the hem of your shirt, more nervous now than you can remember being in a long time. And not even three days ago you got chased by a bear off a cliff.

“If you’re not interested…”

“I am definitely interested,” you say, a little too loud. You’ve gone your entire adult life not being this awkward, and here’s John Seed asking you on a date and it throws off your entire equilibrium. Which it really shouldn’t because you can’t even count on one hand the number of model planes in his office alone, so that should help a little.

It doesn’t, at all.

But it should.

John smiles and it’s soft and small, and just a little guarded. “I’m glad,” he says, reaching out for your hand and managing to send your heart rate skyrocketing even worse than before. Like maybe this is his real plan to get rid of you once and for all: a damn heart attack. “I was a little afraid you’d turn me down.”

“Well—” another laugh escapes you— “I can’t really say no to dinner with a handsome man, can I?” You absolutely could, especially if the ground opened up and swallowed you whole like you’re starting to wish it would.

“So the key to getting you to say yes is food?” John asks, but he’s started rubbing his thumb over the back of your knuckles, short circuiting your brain.

It’s amazing that in all the years since high school, you’ve learned nothing about talking to guys you like. “Yeah,” you say, “that’s the secret.” The worst part is, it’s not entirely a lie. A hot meal is incredibly tempting whether you want to admit that or not.

John’s lips press into a thin line for a moment before he speaks again. “This isn’t— I don’t want you to think that’s what this is. I’m not trying to get you to change your mind about us, I just want to spend time with you.”

You really should have considered this might be a new recruitment tactic before he brought it up himself. “I promise, that’s not what I was thinking.” Right now you’re barely thinking at all.

“Well, good.” John nods decisively. “Dinner will be ready soon, so you still have time to shower.” He looks at your clothes, or, more likely, the dirt covering your clothes. “I can find something else for you to wear…”

“Oh yeah, thanks.” You’re almost positive that your jeans aren’t salvageable and the only thing holding the left leg together is dried mud and hope. “I should—“ you regretfully pull your hands away from his and gesture behind you in the general direction of the shower. There’s a blush creeping onto your cheeks at the thought of using John’s shower and potentially wearing some of his clothes.

You take a step back, wanting to remove yourself from the current situation before you do anything else embarrassing.

“I’ll leave something clean out for you.”

“Yeah, yep, thank you.” The butterflies in your stomach are threatening to spill out if you don’t walk away soon. “I’ll just go now,” you say, spinning on your heel and heading off toward the shower without allowing yourself to say anything else.

“Take your time,” John calls after you.

You cover your face with both hands and try not to let your mind wander through ideas of quiet evenings alone with John or dinners lit only in candle light. Both seem ridiculous given the current situation in the county, and yet you find yourself hoping to get all of that. You round the corner, finally out of sight from the small office, and take a moment to breathe. There are so many reasons why this is a bad idea, but you’re having a hard time thinking if any.

Romance has never really been your thing, for one reason or another, but here is John Seed presenting the opportunity to you and you want to take it. You’re already so comfortable around him that it almost feels like a natural progression of what you already have.

You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back, and continue on to a hot shower. Either you’re making a mistake or you’re not, but no matter what you’re going to see it through to the end.

And hopefully you’ll stop blushing before dinner.

#john seed x reader #anonymous #my writing #john seed

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araminia16 · 5 years

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Slow Growth (C9-Explicit)

Chapter 8

It was the first weekend away from Zephrah when they entered through the tree and out the Sun Tree into the city of Whitestone. Hand in hand Vax and Keyleth made their way through the streets towards the construction site for Vex’s home as the Mistress of the Grey Hunt. When they left the foundation was just beginning it’s construction and it had been a couple of weeks so they were eager to see what it had become.

Keyleth leaned into Vax as they walked with her head on his shoulder and he grinned like an idiot while squeezing her hand. Five days since she agreed to try and he had yet to make any kind of proposition towards her. The first night she timidly entered their room to find the room empty until he entered with wet hair and slightly damp chest with a towel wrapped around his neck. His playful grin didn’t fade as he bent over the bed to kiss her while she lay upon it waiting for him, nor did he refuse her when she asked to brush his hair for him. Another ridiculous braiding job and they were both nestled in bed together to start another day all over again.

Familiar sights and sounds greeted them along the street and some even waved in their direction as they passed through. It was no time at all when they reached the castle grounds and found Vex and Trinket outdoors overseeing the construction of a now much larger home.

“Vex!” Keyleth called out and the woman in question turned around as did Trinket before she darted off toward them with a smile.

Vex wrapped her brother and Keyleth in a hug and though she wasn’t the strongest member of Vox Machina she took the wind out of Keyleth at least. “Brother, Kiki. I’m so happy to see you. It’s been a while. Did you see my house? Mine.” She released each of them with a peck while bright eyes took them both in. “It still needs the upper levels constructed fully, painted, and everything has to be ‘wired in’ as Percy says before we can start furnishing it but it’s mine. And Percy’s.” She added as almost an afterthought.

“We do see it, Stubby, and it looks like a house. Speaking of Freddie, where is he?”

“Yeah. He knew we were coming.” Keyleth pouted.

“Probably in his workshop. I swear the man wouldn’t eat, drink or sleep if not for me. Not to mention other things that are infinitely more fun.” A wry smile and glint in her eye clued Keyleth in on what she must have meant but Vax only sighed and pushed her away.

“We don’t need to hear about all that. Disgusting.” Vax teased then pulled her in to rub his knuckles in her hair for which she stomped on his foot.

“You ass.” She pulled from the grapple and stomped again for good measure. “Come on, Kiki. Let’s find Percy and see if we can tempt him away from his toys.” Vex held her arm out for Keyleth who took it with an excited smile.

They did find Percy, who was in fact in his workshop, and he gave Keyleth a warm hug. Half from the heat of the shop but mostly from affection while he wiped the sweat from his brow and looked down at the clothes he wore. “I’m rather a mess, aren’t I? Especially for company. Excuse me while I clean up. I’ll meet you in the library so we can get started.” Soot, oil, and gunpowder stained Percy made his way up around Keyleth, a pat on Vax’s shoulder then a kiss to Vex who leaned against the doorframe with arms crossed before he made his way out.

“See. He never has time for me anymore.” She called down the hall after him.

“I love you too, dear.”

“Ass.” Vex huffed but with a smile as the three of them made their way to the library. Already many books were strewn out onto the tables open to various entries with paper notes clustered around. “We’ve been reading and haven’t found much to be honest here. I think we need to go somewhere like Vasselhiem or Emon or the Cobalt Soul or somewhere with more books about Orcas.”

“Yeah. Well you find anything good here?”

“Ghost stories. Percy is very fond of them.”

Percy arrived a while later and with a joviality as they started to catch up on the weeks previous. Tary was busy rebuilding Doty and out collecting items and would be back sometime soon or so they thought.

The first night was much of reading books and talking but the next couple of days they spent in Whitestone consisted of Keyleth and Percy in his workshop talking about an idea to have an early warning system to help if there were something like Thordak again.

The twins read books upon books together and at one point Vax left for a while and returned with two full wine bottles. He set one down in front of Vex and one in front of himself as he plucked the cork from his and took a swig before he settled down in his chair.

Vex eyed the unopened bottle in front of her feet from where she reclined with a book in her lap, turned her gaze to her brother, then back at the bottle, “Something you want to talk about, brother?”

“Shut up and drink.” He took another swig as he turned another page in the book.

Vex, never one to say no to a bit of drink, opened her bottle and started up. When he wanted to start this heart to heart she better be plenty pliable for it.

Halfway through the bottles and a little buzzed Vax closed the book with an audible noise and sighed, “I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“About Orcas? The Raven Queen? Tomorrow? You’ll have to be a little less vague, Vax.” Then laughed as she closed her book. “So, darling brother what is it?”

Vax sighed, “Oh, sister mine. What was your first time like?”

“First time shooting an arrow? First time drinking? You’ll have to be a touch more specific.” She teased.

“Fucking. First time fucking. Mine was alright but as far as I know there are very few ways to fuck it up on my end. Yours. Now. God I need more to drink.” He took another couple of swallows of the sweet wine and sighed. Already regretting his decision to talk to his sister.

“Oh. It was alright I guess. I got paid a couple of gold so not a total loss. I had no idea what I was doing. Not really and he didn’t either but it was easy money. I had something to give and he had money to pay for it. I was a tad too dry and it was uncomfortable. That’s what I remember. I don’t even think he knew my name. I certainly didn’t care to know his.” Vex shrugged as she took another swallow. “I got better at it.”

“Ah.” Vax sighed.

“Why?”

“Keyleth.”

“Did she have an awful first time as well? I can’t imagine she’s had much experience with all of it.” Vex took another drink.

“She hasn’t had any. At all.”

Vex stopped the bottle halfway to her mouth as she processed the information in her addled brain. “What do you mean?”

“She’s totally untouched.”

“Still? After all this time? I find that hard to believe.”

“Yeah. I’m not some asshole who only wants her for her body you know. And I don’t have the sex drive of a rabbit either like someone here does.”

“I like to fuck. It feels fantastic when you do it right and Percy likes to be fucked so everyone wins. The man has wonderful hands and a fantastic mouth.”

“I know. So does Keyleth.” Vax shivered in horror at the vague images his rampant imagination brought up about his sister and her lover.

“I won’t dissect what that means right now because I don’t want to. But our sex life is healthy and yours is quite clearly not. She can’t have no idea what it all is. She’s traveled with Scanlan of all people before and his sex drive outpaces mine by miles.” She took another drink. The bottle was starting to feel a little light.

“Right about that.” He nodded. “She’s afraid she’s going to set me on fire or something during the act.”

Vex snorted out a choked laugh, “What?”

“Yeah. I told her she was worried about nothing but she’s gotten me off twice now.”

“Bold then, is she? Good girl. But you are so chivalrous it must be under your skin by now. Has she never touched her own cunt before?” Vex’s filter disintegrated under the last of the wine on a mostly empty stomach.

“Apparently not.” He slurred out.

“You don’t need my advice. You do well enough on your own. You love her and you’ll treat her really well. Just don’t forget not to marry her while I’m not there. Okay? I don’t think I can read anymore so I’ll go find Tary or Percy. Percy. I’ll find Percy and drag him off to give him a good once over. You should do the same to Keyleth. Just do it. Doesn’t have to be romantic with candles and flowers and smells. It just has to come from the heart. Or your fingers...or tongue...or cock. Any of those. Yeah?” Vex stood with the empty bottle and began to saunter out of the library.

Vax watched her go as he downed the last of the wine. Vex just solidified things he already knew. Maybe that’s all he needed was some confirmation from his other half.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair to daydream about a bright smile, freckled cheeks and bright red hair on a summer’s day with a sigh.

Percy just happened to be rounding the corner from his workshop to check on the twins when he was suddenly and very unceremoniously thrown into the wall with a sharp cry. Cut short when a pair of soft lips pressed to his and unmistakable taste and scent of wine washed over him. Not one to deny a beautiful woman he kissed her back until she parted from him with glazed eyes filled with desire and looked around to press him into a door. She was of a mood and although it wasn’t the most ideal place or time it was best to indulge her and the press of his trousers agreed as she dropped to her knees to unbuckle and unfasten to pull him out and with two or three rolls of her wrist she replaced it with her mouth as she took him in sloppily. Percy muffled his groan as best he could with an arm while she worked him up until he pulled her from him and pressed her into the wall and with a little shuffling managed to give her exactly what she needed from him.

Keyleth had finished heating the metal to bend with her flames and placed the last one in the pile as she looked around. Percy had been gone a while. Maybe they had found something in the books. She exited the workshop and began to walk towards the library when she heard a rhythmic thud in one room aside and sounds similar to what she heard weeks ago in Whitestone before. Heat colored her cheeks while she fled to the library and found Vax in a mess of books with his boots crossed over one another on the table and an empty bottle of wine on it’s side. He was singing off key about something...her. About her in Elvish. Her hair, eyes, nose...breasts…, “Vax.”

He shifted to look over at her with a smile, “Hey. Kiki.” And sounded a little like the Sun Tree. “Come here. I was just singing about you.”

“You are very drunk.”

“I am. But I was still singing.”

“It was beautiful.”

“So are yooooooou.”

Keyleth walked over and inspected the bottle of wine. Ah. That explains it. “This is some heavy stuff. Did you drink the whole bottle?”

“I had one and so did my sister. Come sit on my lap.” He patted his thigh with a wiggle to his eyebrow.

Keyleth knew better but couldn’t see the harm in it, “I went looking for Percy.” She settled into his lap and his arms folded around her while he rested his cheek onto her back.

“Did you find him? My sister was looking for him.”

“She found him.” Keyleth laughed as he blew a raspberry on her back.

“Good. I love you.” He sang as he tickled her sides.

“I love you too. Did you happen to find anything before you drove yourself to drink?”

“Not a word. I think we have to go somewhere else. There won’t be alcohol there though.”

“A shame.” Keyleth replied somberly.

“Exactly. Oh. I should get you a bottle. I got it from the secret wine cellar.”

“No. I think one of us should be sober for the night.”

“That’s not fun.”

“Have you eaten?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost dinnertime.” Keyleth stroked the flesh over the back of his hands.

“Shit. Not since like really early this morning.”

“Fuck.” Keyleth muttered. “We have to get up. Get you some food. And water. You are going to have such a wine hangover tomorrow if you don’t.” Keyleth wiggled out of his grasp and he whined as he reached for her again. “Food. Now.” She ordered.

“You’re hot when you take charge, Kiki.” He winked at her as he stood and followed after her.

He did have a hangover the next day and so did Vex but they wouldn’t talk about that.

When they arrived back in Zephrah two days later and at least moderately fulfilled in their missions Keyleth addressed a few issues that arose during her time away while Vax followed behind as her shadow.

Vax sighed as he finished lighting the last candle and surveyed his work. The low light provided a somewhat relaxed atmosphere while the incense curled around the room as it burned while he awaited her return from the baths.

He couldn’t help the nervous tremble in his belly. Butterflies right before a battle surged to nearly choke him before he pushed them down especially when he heard her soft footfalls approach.

“Hey, Vax. The baths were a little--what’s all this?” She shut the door behind her with trepidation as she shifted from foot to foot.

“Hey.” He smiled and reached for her. “Just a little something to help us relax.”

“Oh.” She stared at his outstretched hand for about thirty seconds before she moved forward with her own palm outstretched. A bit of electric energy tingled where her fingers hovered above his hand and intensified as her palm connected with his. A firm hand wrapped around hers as he pulled her forward to press a kiss to the back of her hand.

Her lips parted as she breathed in while he pressed another kiss, then another to her hand, up to her wrist, then her lower arm until she stood in his space and his dark gaze threatened to swallow her whole as he looked up from her elbow. “Let's fix your hair first, yeah?”

Lips dry she licked them and nodded. Keyleth let him pull her down to sit on the bed in front of his crossed legs as he began a near nightly routine of brushing out her growing hair and braiding it for the morning. As usual the familiarity pulled her into a lull of relaxation and when he finished with her hair he pressed a calloused palm onto the open space just before her shirt began and stroked along the muscle down her arm.

“Will you be alright lying down on your belly for me?”

Keyleth nodded again and slowly shifted around Vax to lie at the top of the bed with her neck turned to the side.

“I won’t move any clothing up or down unless you ask and if there’s anything you don’t like you need to tell me right away, okay?”

Keyleth nodded.

“I need you to say it, Kiki.”

“Yes.” She nodded again and she couldn't help but tense a little as he settled next to her. The scent of lavender floated through the air while a wet sound echoed in the impossibly quiet room. She jumped when slick flesh touched her neck and he instantly pulled back.

“Kiki?”

“It’s fine. You just surprised me.” He replaced his hand after a few moments and the scent of lavender strengthened so close to her nose while he started on the apex of her neck in small circles. His other hand joined down the flesh of her neck while she closed her eyes and relaxed into the warmth of his touch. Down her shoulders and up her crossed arms he manipulated muscles and soothed nerves. When he shifted down to her legs she laughed when his fingers pressed into the bottom of her foot but enjoyed the way he pressed down into the sore ligaments and tendons where she walked too long in the day. As he massaged into her calves and up the back of her thighs she became conscious of the proximity of his hands to places they had never ventured before and the way her skin felt warm but in a pleasant sort of heavy way like she had a little too much alcohol but not enough to really mess her up.

Vax felt greedy but he continued his slow exploration of her smooth skin. He bent over and pressed his lips to her feet, ankle, calf, knee, thigh and then to the other and felt her body shift further into the sheets with a sigh. He kept going in the same vein until he was sure she was as relaxed as he could make her before he stretched out alongside her and pulled her over so her back pressed into his chest and leaned over to give her a full, deep kiss. They parted with an audible noise and further noise still when he continued down the side of her face and neck. Open mouthed suckling on her flesh left very little marks but he felt the change in her skin, the heat of it and the way her pulse fluttered under his mouth. “Remember.” He sighed. “Say the word and I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

“I know.”

He shifted the two of them around until he sat back against the headboard and she right against his chest. His lips never left her neck except to peck along it absentmindedly while one hand shifted to trail fingers up her arm while she shivered and felt another flare of heat underneath where his fingers fell. The crook of her elbow and up the flesh of her upper arm to her neck where he could feel the pounding of her heart under his palm where he pressed it to her chest.

Warmth pulsed through her body with each beat of her heart hammering against her ribs like it wanted out. Wanted to lie in his palm and let him do what he wished with it. With her.

She felt at her back a firm press of his arousal and shifted against it just to hear the catch in his breath and she did. Rewarded with a nip at her shoulder he shifted his touch downward to cup her loose breast above her shirt. They felt heavy despite their smaller size. Full and sensitive, eager to be touched, and she whined into the air when his gentle grip shifted and his thumb brushed a nipple. Keyleth arched into his caress with a whine while the heat shifted to a hum under her skin. He did it again and again as heat rolled from his hand to her belly to settle and twist within her. She was already unbearably warm when his other hand took up a station on her opposite breast. With both sides being manipulated with such skill she threw her head back and felt another flare of heat while she rolled her hips unknowingly into nothing.

Vax pinched the hardened peaks lightly and was rewarded with a keen as she arched forward. She felt lightheaded, dizzy and free, hot and liquid and all the things she feared but she wanted more. Needed more but didn’t know how to ask. Her grip on her thoughts slipped through like fog while he crafted this needy creature into something new. Vax latched onto her left ear again and she bucked with another sharp cry and she felt so warm. So unbearably hot while she throbbed burning between her spread legs. Distracted he slid his hand down her body to tease above her belly where the sensation seemed so intense she let out a broken sob. “Kiki. Still okay?” His rough askance made her core throb unbearably again as she nodded but couldn’t breathe out an answer.

It was too much and not enough and she dug her hands into his thighs to try to keep herself steady but the room spun and she couldn’t breathe for the constant pulse of something she couldn’t name.

Vax had to breathe in and out almost dizzy with anticipation, with the way he had her, so strong writhing in his grasp, uncontrolled and beautiful with her wildness and he wanted her this way every single moment for him. Only for him. He groaned and mouthed hot, wet kisses into her neck while his hand moved and pressed with the lightest touch over her clothed core. He had to breathe through his nose when his fingers felt hot slickness even through the thin shorts and he pinched a little hard at the breast he held in his hand. Her hips rolled up and he followed them while she dug into his thigh with the sweetest pain. “Oh!” The throb came to a head between her thighs and her core clenched as he moved just two fingers along where it felt the hottest.

“Gods, Kiki. You’re so wet. So wet and warm for me.” He rumbled and she moaned in reply as another pulse coursed through her. The room had since blurred into shapes as sweat collected on too warm skin while Vax trailed his hand up to turn her head. Wet kisses in between panting gasps echoed around them while his hand kept the soft rhythm and she kept flaring brighter, hotter with each pass of them. She arched and moaned and couldn’t stop. Too hot. Too warm. It felt like a wave and she had to lift her hands to claw at his arm while she twisted and bucked while he had to loop his leg around her thigh to keep her open and still with his relentless touch. Firm and gentle while his fingers sopped wetter and wetter and he felt the nub at the apex and started to focus in on that. Her demeanor changed almost instantly to half-breaths, her heartbeat pounded through her skull and the room disappeared. She curled in a little bit and he felt the fine tremble begin in her thighs, belly, arms of her impending climax, “Vax.” She panted out. Fear. “Vax. What? What’s--happening. I’m--.” She bucked and spasmed while her free foot slid haphazard on the smooth sheets as the wave built and built and power flared white hot while she jerked in his arms. One hand lifted to grab onto his forearm pressed across her body at her throat to try to hold on.

“Shhhh. Shhh. I’ve got you. Let go. I promise you everything’s okay.”

He would remember the look of her for the rest of his days when she finally broke. Her eyes shut tight and she let the tremble course through her, arching and bowing in his arms. Her scream he caught in his mouth. The deep throated moans and cries while she continued to arch in and out of his grip, all the while he carried her through it.

Keyleth couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, as everything snapped and ecstasy barreled through her in a wave of molten fire and sensation that pulled her under.

When she finally came back to herself from the fog of her climax Vax held her tightly to his body while her skin tingled and her...cunt...throbbed with each beat of her heart. Another broken moan emerged when she tried to speak and she felt him laugh behind her. She could feel her heart beating and his right behind her. There was a dampness now everywhere between her legs and she colored briefly when she realized what it meant and that it might have gotten on the bed sheets.

“Are you okay?”

“Hmmmm.” She muttered out, exhausted and boneless. “Good.”

“I’ll say. We’ll need to do that again sometime, yeah? For science just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. I want to drive you there again and again just to watch you fall apart for me. You were breathtaking.”

Keyleth felt her body clench in a wave of fleeting arousal and she whined. “I didn’t hurt you?” Tired eyes turned up in such vulnerability his heart clenched and he ached to reassure her.

“No.” And she hadn’t. Not really. A bit of a flash burn on his arm in the shape of her hand he was careful to keep out of her eyesight. Something that would fix in the morning and they could talk about it then. She looked so peaceful and adorable he didn’t want to upset it.

She grinned up at him, “Thank you. Do you need--?”

“I’ll be fine I think.” In truth he had come in his pants like some green boy seeing his first pair of tits but that could be fixed with a change of pants. For now he would hold her to him as tender and soft as she was now and kiss her silly. “Thank you. For allowing me to witness that. It was magnificent.”

“Stop.” She blushed and looked away but he tipped her head back up to him as he shifted her pliant form around so they were lying face to face.

He kissed her forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, then her lips, “Never. I’ll never tire of this. Just sleeping next to you at night no matter if anything else happens between us or not. This is exactly where I want to be for the rest of my days. Right here. With you. As long as I can.” And he meant it. He knew there might be very little time until the Raven Queen called him for his charge and as long as he could remain here he was happy.

Keyleth felt her eyes well with tears after such an emotionally intense time between them, “So do I. I love you so much it hurts sometimes. I couldn’t bear to not have you here with me.”

“Shhhh. I’ll always be here with you even if I’m away. I promise.” He grinned and they spent a while just staring and touching one another until the damp and cold forced them to rise. Keyleth stumbled a little bit as her legs gave out on her and Vax felt the rush of male pride while he helped her steady herself before he sought his own change of clothes. They joined back in the bed and Vax drifted with light snores as Keyleth listened to his steady heartbeat while she floated off to sleep.

Chapter 10

#Keyleth #Vaxleth #Fanfiction #Rated M #vax'ildan #Slow Growth #Critical Role #Vox Machina #Campaign 1 #Drinking #Twin bonding

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shyvioletcat · 6 years

Text

Show Me: Part 5 - Rowaelin

Aelin wanted a nap. Actually, she wanted a bath and a nap. But if she had to choose the nap would win.

She had been hoping to have a quick lie down between meetings but Lysandra had insisted that they have lunch together in Aelin’s study. She said she didn’t want to go all the way to either one of their private chambers and then have to come all the way back for the next meeting. So a servant had brought in lunch and Aelin had cleared off the low lying table in front of the fire to eat off. As the day was fairly mild the fire wasn’t going but there was no point of rearranging the room on that account.

Now her second and last meeting of the day was finishing up and maybe, just maybe, she could close her eyes for a little while before dinner with everybody. Aelin had bid farewell to Lysandra as Evangeline came barrelling around a corner, Fleetfoot in tow. Whatever had excited the girl, Evangeline kept to herself giving no explanation for the dazzling smile on her face. Aelin had said a quick goodbye to Evangeline as well, commending Fleetfoot to her care until dinner and then started her journey to her highly anticipated nap.

Aelin let out a heavy sigh of relief as she finally reached the door of her and Rowan’s private quarters and entered with a small smile on her face. She’d made it.

The smile fell though as she lost her sight as something dark suddenly and efficiently covered her eyes.

“Rowan,” she’d scented him as soon as she stepped in the room, “what are you doing?”

“I have a surprise for you,” his voice sounded next to her ear and his hands gripped her shoulders as he guided her through the room.

Aelin’s stomach fluttered with anticipation as she remembered her last surprise. He had done so well last time, who knew what he’d come up with this time?

“Why can I smell the lingering sweaty scents of an overgrown dog and broody old man? What have you been doing in here, Rowan? Or is this something I don’t want to know about?”

Rowan chuckled, the surprise and closeness of it’s sound sending goosebumps along Aelin’s arms. But Rowan said nothing more, he just continued to guide her. Painfully slow.

Finally Rowan stopped them and stood close behind Aelin, so close she could feel the heat from his body enveloping her. She couldn’t help but lean back into him as his fingers gently pulled the blindfold from her eyes. Aelin blinked once at the sudden brightness and then her eyes went wide. She lent fully on Rowan and he supported her with a hand under her elbow and the other resting on her hip.

“Rowan…”

By the window was a stunning pianoforte. So beautiful it took Aelin’s breath away. The main colour was a turquoise, so similar to that of her eyes it would have taken someone who knew her very well so match the so exactly. Over that vines of kings flame had been painted on all the flat surfaces, delicately and not overbearing. The legs had been carved with similar vines and music rest was a lattice work of the same design but both were painted gold. Then there was a bench seat to match and long enough for two people to sit side by side. Aelin felt the hot tears run down her cheek. She had never seen a more beautiful instrument.

“Fireheart?”

Aelin spun and threw her arms around Rowan’s neck, letting him hold her to him.

“Thank you,” Aelin said thickly, “You’re too good to me.”

They both shifted so they could look into each other’s face. Aelin almost sobbed at the raw emotion she saw on Rowan’s face, the joy and the love.

“When we were at the theatre I saw you, I saw what the music did to you. I saw your fingers playing the notes on your leg. I wanted to have something here, in our home, so you could feel what you did that night whenever you please.”

Rowan lent down to kiss her softly. And Aelin felt it then. She felt the understanding he had for the aching in her soul, how much he desperately wanted to help heal it. It hit her like an arrow in the chest and she deepened the kiss, tightening her hold on him. Rowan complied and soon they were breathless. Then Aelin was leading him to their bedroom without breaking away. But Rowan stopped them, one hand tangled in her hair the other on the small of her back.

“Don’t you want to try it out?” Rowan asked raising a brow.

Aelin kissed him deeply, earning a soft growl in response which make her smile into the kiss.

“Later,” she said, “later.”

~~~~~

Aelin rose from the bed silently, pulling on a dressing robe discarded on the floor. Fleetfoot opened one eye from where she lay curled in her bed, offered solitary wag of her tail and went back to sleep. Aelin didn’t get her nap, she had lost herself in Rowan instead. So much so that they had been late for dinner, receiving a heavy eye roll from Fenrys and an incredulous look from Lorcan. Everyone else just laughed. She had thanked and then scolded her court for their help and threatened to make a royal decree about keeping secrets from the Queen and that sent them all laughing again and a many you get what you give directed at their Queen.

After dinner Aelin had told Rowan that she was too tired to try the pianoforte just now and they had gone to bed. They were both reading until Rowan had fallen asleep, his book slumped on his chest. That’s when Aelin had slipped out.

She used her power to light a few candles around the room as she made her way over to the pianoforte. The ran her fingers along it, the wood cool to the touch at this late hour. It was indeed a beautiful instrument and Aelin was sure that it would sound as beautiful as it looked. Aelin did a full circuit before she came back to the bench. Taking in a steadying breath she sat down and lifted the lid that covered the keys. The wood had been cool, but the black and white keys were almost as cold as ice as Aelin let her fingers glide over them, not yet pressing down to strike a chord.

Memories came to her, her fingers twitched in recognition of the movements that had once come so naturally to her once upon a time. Then Aelin pushed down on a single note, the sound echoing around the silent room.

It sounded hollow. Empty.

Aelin’s fingers hovered, tempted to strike again. But instead she dropped her hands to her lap. That ache in her chest felt as hollow as that solitary note had sounded.

Closing the lid over the keys Aelin walked back to her bed. She wasn’t crying as she slid into bed next to Rowan, removing the book from his chest as she did so. All Aelin was feeling was an emptiness, the loss of something deep within herself that she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to get back.

~~~~~

It’s early! I got bored so I’m posting this like 12 hours earlier than I planned. Please go to works-of-shyvioletcat for the other parts. Still waiting for dearest tumblr to clear my blog, so while that’s still happening I’ll be posting here and then reblogging onto works-of-shyvioletcat for visibility purposes etc... It’s not how I do my thing but I don’t really have a choice at the moment. I can’t even link to my own stupid blog. If your on mobile I think if you tap the “parts of show me” tag you might get them. Just very frustrated at the moment....

Tags: @huntress-of-velaris @aelin-and-feyre @ohmyrowan @viajandosinalas @until-theveryend @rowanismybae @bluephoenix222 @fucking-winchester-trash

#parts of show me #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #post kingdom of ash #throne of glass fanfiction #works of shyvioletcat

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idkxwriting · 6 years

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Devil’s Backbone - Chapter 9

Author: idkhaylijah

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

A/N: alright guys, I think there’s one more chapter after this, but it’s starting to wrap up. Thank you so much for reading and sorry this doesn’t have any smut lol hopefully you’ve stuck with the story though and enjoyed it! Also apparently the breaks/formatting doesn’t work in mobile so sorry if it seems like a lot of random jumping, but uhhh yea there’s breaks in it.

Taglist: @evyiione @bcfangirlthatswhy @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @katie1109 @rissyrapp20 @mar-trash-vel @mschellehitt @exquisitley-obsessed @xdontxcare @captiveword @darthdeziewok @wolf-lover-bookdragon @simonsaysyasss @luiza-4-ever @complicatedharry @teenwolfbitches2 @itsyaboi-uhhh-skinnypenis @fandomrulesall

“I can’t afford this,” Y/N hissed as she looked at the price tag on the dress she was wearing.

Rebekah rolled her eyes, dismissing the issue with a wave of her hand. “Turn.”.

Y/N did as she was asked, taking in her appearance in the full length mirror. “And look at this slit,” she complained. “I can’t pull this off…”

Rebekah tilted her head. “Don’t be foolish. You’re gorgeous. Elijah will lose it when he sees you in this.”

Y/N blushed. She looked at the dress, gold - a color she didn’t usually wear. It was off the shoulder, with a slit on one side that ran up to her thigh showing off her legs. She was definitely out of her comfort zone as she took in the beaded bodice and open back.

Rebekah wasn’t wrong though, she looked amazing.

“It’s too much.”

“Nonsense.” Rebekah moved to stand behind her. We are getting the dress, I have spectacular taste,” she pulled Y/N’s hair up into a makeshift updo to see see the neckline better and noticed the mark Elijah had left. “Bloody hell, Y/N.”

Y/N moved away, letting her hair drop to the side once more and Rebekah pushed her into the dressing room. “You can’t walk around advertising to the entire Quarter that you’re a blood bag,” she hissed.

Y/N took off the dress, changing back into her clothes, her back to Rebekah. “I’m not a blood bag,” she argued.

She sighed. “Whatever you do in private with my brother is your business, quite frankly I hope I never have to hear it again...but a little subtly goes a long way.” She bit the palm of her hand and held it out to Y/N.

“I’m fine,” she pushed her offered hand aside and tried to exit the dressing room, but was stopped by Rebekah.

“Drink,” she demanded.

Y/N sighed. “I already told Elijah-“

Rebekah walked her back into the wall. “I don’t care what you told my brother, you will be in a room full of vampires tonight, the majority of which want your head on a platter. Let’s not tempt them anymore than we have to,” she said as she forced her hand over Y/N’s mouth until she had no choice but to swallow a bit of her blood.

Rebekah released her. “There,” she said checking her neck once more. “All better. Now grab your dress, and meet me at the front.”

They spent the rest of the morning searching for accessories, none of which lived up to Rebekah’s standards, which Y/N was realizing were quite high. When it was lunchtime, Rebekah claimed shopping made her ravenous, and when Y/N suggested a burger joint she knew, the vampire smiled. “I need a real meal,” she clarified before dismissing herself.

Y/N was down the street from her apartment when her phone buzzed. She smiled at the screen, Elijah’s name appearing.

“Hey,” she answered.

“Hi,” his smooth voice came through the receiver, making her grin even more. “How was your morning with Rebekah?”

Y/N sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried on so many dresses in one day before, I’m exhausted.”

“I trust you found something suitable for this evening?”

She looked at the garment bag in her hand. “It’s a little much,” she began.

Elijah chuckled. “Rebekah has excellent taste. Besides,” he continued. “I’m confident that no matter what you wear, you will without a doubt be the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Y/N’s cheeks heated at his compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mikaelson.”

“Where are you now? Perhaps I should swing by, maybe get a preview of this dress…”

Y/N laughed. “I’m walking into my apartment building right now,” she tucked the phone with her chin and shoulder, and opened the door to her building to find Emily sitting in the hall. “...And I’ll have to take a raincheck on that visit, but I’ll see you tonight?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yea, I’ll see you tonight, fancy dress and all.”

Elijah’s voice softened. “I look forward to it.”

Elijah hung up the phone, staring at the screen, his thoughts lost in what Y/N might be up to. She had only been gone a few hours and he had missed her. He glanced at the clock; the party wasn’t for another five hours. He sighed.

“Brother,” Klaus greeted from the doorway. Elijah put his phone back in his pocket. Klaus stepped into the room, his face stern. “She deserves more than this life, you know.” Elijah said nothing, keeping his eyes fixed ahead, so Klaus continued. “Freya will fix this,” he said with confidence.

Elijah nodded.

“And when she does, Y/N will have no part in this life.”

Elijah turned then, squaring his shoulders off to Klaus. “Is that a threat, Niklaus?”

Klaus placed his hand on his shoulder. “I have no need, after all, you always do the right thing, Elijah. My noble brother,” he took his exit, leaving Elijah alone with his thoughts.

Freya paced back and forth. She hadn’t slept in days, doing everything she could to help Y/N. She clutched her pendant in her hand, chanting quietly to herself.

“Freya?” Hayley stepped cautiously into the room. “You okay?”

Freya paused just a moment, her eyes shooting to Hayley, before she went back to pacing and chanting.

Hayley moved into the room and sat on the couch. “I want to put a stop to this curse just as much as you do, but you need to eat something, get some sleep...you have to take care of yourself.”

The witch continued to chant until she threw her head back. Hayley shot up and steadied her, but Freya calmed quickly, rushing to the coffee table, drawing a circle onto some blank pages and lighting a candle. “If I link Y/N’s lifeline to Elijah, I think I can destroy the curse.”

Hayley furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand.”

“The hunter’s curse is trying to take over her body, it will destroy her soul. If I link her to Elijah, someone she cares about, she has an anchor. Something for her soul to grip onto - which means if we can fully wake the hunter and destroy it, Y/N’s soul remains intact, the hunter dies, and Y/N can wake - in her body - when we wake Elijah.”

“What do you mean, ‘when we wake Elijah’?”

Freya’s gaze met Hayley’s. “I have to dagger my brother.”

“Great, let’s just tell him we promise to wake him up, and we are good to go.”

Freya shook her head. “No, we can’t tell him.”

Hayley was confused. “Elijah would do anything for Y/N…”

“He would never risk her life. There’s a good chance this won’t work and if this doesn’t work, she’ll die.”

Hayley swallowed. If Y/N died, Elijah would never forgive them for their part in her death. But Hayley needed to protect her pack. Surely Elijah of all people would understand the need to protect family. “What do we have to do?”

Elijah placed his phone back in his pocket, checking the clock for the fifth time in as many minutes.

“Calm down, Elijah, she’ll be here,” Rebekah slid up to him looking flawless in a sleek red gown.

Elijah nodded.

“And when she arrives, you’ll see she was worth the wait.” She placed her hand on his forearm, squeezing gently.

He appreciated his sister’s reassurance. Y/N had texted that she was running late after a long afternoon of consoling her friend. She had asked Klaus to stop by and compel Emily, and though he tried not to read too much into it, he wondered why she hadn’t come to him. He shook off his worries, clenching his jaw and observing the packed courtyard below. Each faction - the humans, werewolves, vampires and witches - were represented and a temporary peace was acknowledged.

A peace Elijah would feel once Y/N was in his sight. He made his way to the bar, pouring his second bourbon of the evening. He pressed the glass to his lips and let the liquid burn down his throat and calm his nerves.

He sensed her before he saw her, acutely aware of her particular heartbeat, the sweet scent of her blood pumping through her veins. His eyes roamed the room and stopped at the doorway, taking in her appearance.

She was a goddess.

Y/N glanced around the room, looking for Elijah. Before she could find him, Klaus stepped into her vision.

“You look beautiful, love.”

Y/N cast her eyes to the floor. “Thanks. Hey, have you seen your brother?”

Klaus shrugged nonchalantly and offered his arm to her. “I’m sure he’ll find you shortly. Until then, may I have this dance?”

She smiled softly at him. She preferred this with Klaus - being friends again, repairing what they had lost. She took his arm and he led her onto the dance floor, spinning her around as she laughed gently.

Elijah observed them for a moment, his breath catching as he watched her move. Beautiful was an understatement. She was achingly gorgeous. He thought once more to his brother’s earlier words. Once Freya had gotten rid of the curse, Y/N would have the opportunity to lead a normal life, far away from the dangers Elijah’s mere existence would bring her. Klaus was right, Elijah would have to do the right thing eventually, and his heart clenched in his chest.

Klaus spun her once more, this time, Elijah was there to catch her. She jumped before a grin overtook her face. “May I cut in?” He asked politely, not waiting for Klaus’ answer and taking her hands in his own. He danced her away from his brother.

They danced to the music for a few moments in silence, Elijah intertwining their hands and looking her over, leaving her feeling naked. He pressed his lips to her temple. “You’re incredible,” he whispered sweetly. He breathed her in, the nerves he felt all day subsiding.

She pressed her body into him. “I missed you today.”

“Mmm,” he spun her out and pulled her back in. “I think you should never leave my sight again, I’ll just keep you here, in my room,” he teased.

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “A girl could get used to that,” she laughed.

He pulled her into him, so her head rested on his shoulder. She shut her eyes for a moment, letting the smell of his aftershave and the feel of his body pressed against hers wash over her. When she opened her eyes she caught a glimpse of a familiar face across the room. She separated from Elijah then.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concern etched on his features.

“I think I just saw Emily…” Her gaze trailed after her and she moved to follow.

She turned the corner, following her down a hallway, Elijah behind her. “Emily?” She called out.

Her friend turn, a smile of recognition on her face. “Oh my god, Y/N? Hey! What are you doing here?”

Y/N glanced at Elijah over her shoulder and back to Emily. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for the bathroom, actually. Chris invited me.” She looked Elijah up and down, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“Elijah,” Klaus’ voice called from the other end of the hallway. “A word, brother?”

Elijah looked between the two girls, and Y/N nodded. “Go, I got this.”

He hesitated just for a moment before following Klaus into a room.

“We have a problem,” the hybrid hissed. “In 1612 I turned a young man by the name of Christian. You and I were estranged, I was bored and murdered his entire family, he swore revenge, blah, blah, blah.”

“Get to the point, Niklaus.”

“He’s been plotting his revenge for centuries and he’s here.”

Elijah placed his hand in his pocket. “So end it.”

“He has a witch,” he stated.

“So end her, too, what’s the problem?”

Klaus swallowed, his jaw tightening. “She has Cami.”

Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Marcel has Davina doing a locator spell, but it’s taking too long. I need to find her,” Klaus clenched his fist.

Elijah understood his brothers anguish.

“I’ll go,” Rebekah interrupted.

Klaus looked at her gratefully and Elijah nodded.

“I won’t let any harm come to her, Nic.” She was gone in an instant.

Y/N pushed Emily into the bathroom, her nerves on edge. “You should go home, get some rest, you’ve had a long day…”

Emily looked at her like she was crazy. “I literally did nothing all day...besides, I’ve been dying for Chris to ask me out and I’m not about to bail now.”

Y/N sighed and poked her head outside as Emily stepped into the hall. “Marcel!”

The vampire turned at his name as he was walking briskly past the doorway.

“Right? That’s your name? Your friends with Klaus and Elijah?”

Marcel grinned. “Sure, you can say that...today…”

Y/N stepped outside of the bathroom. “I’m Y/N,” she said, holding out her hand.

Marcel nodded and took her hand in his own, shaking it politely. “I know who you are.”

“Great. Listen, I need a favor.”

After convincing Marcel to compel Emily to leave the party and forget about her date with Chris, he agreed to take her home while Y/N went off to find Chris and make sure he went home, too. The last thing she had needed was her human friends ending up in this mess.

Elijah stepped into the hall with every intention of finding Y/N again when a thump followed by a blood curdling scream came from the center of the party. He rushed to find a corpse, one of the wolves, in the center of the dance floor. He had been dropped from the roof of the open courtyard, his bones shattered. The music had stopped, guests silently murmuring as the Originals approached the body.

“This was Christian’s doing,” Klaus hissed quietly as Elijah knelt by the body. There was a gaping hole in his chest where his heart once was.

Just then Y/N came rushing into the courtyard, and all eyes turned toward her.

“It was her!” A voice in the crowd accused.

One of the crescent wolves stepped forward and Elijah moved in front of Y/N instantly. “You’re protecting a hunter!” He shouted angrily. “Meanwhile our people are dying, your people.”

Murmurs of agreeance passed through the crowd.

Klaus took his stance in front of Elijah and Y/N. “By all means, wolf, if you have a death wish, go through me.” His eyes shifted yellow and the wolf stepped back, the crowd surrounding them. “That goes for all of you! Even if you manage to get to her, I will end all of you!”

Y/N buried herself into Elijah’s back, gripping his arm. She slammed her eyes shut, trying to hold onto herself as she felt the hunter’s curse move within her. “Elijah,” her voice was full of warning.

Elijah whipped around, holding her face in his hands. “You heard what Freya said,” he whispered urgently. “Just focus on me.”

She nodded and concentrated on the feel of him, his smell, the sound of his breathing...anything she could grip onto, but she wasn’t sure how long she could hold on. She felt herself begin to panic.

“This was not the work of a hunter’s curse, this was the work of a traitor!” Klaus continued, holding the crowd’s attention. “Christian!” His voice was laced with venom.

The crowd looked around, no one coming forward, whispers of his name passing from their lips.

“Christian!” He shouted once more. “Come forward, your coward!” Klaus looked around slowly, until the crowd parted and Christian stepped forward, clapping his hands together slowly.

“Well done, Klaus,” he was amused.

Y/N snapped her eyes open at his voice. “Chris?”

Chris peeked around, taking a glance at Y/N. “Hey Y/N, nice to see you again.”

She furrowed her brows. “I don’t understand. Ben was your friend…”

He shrugged his shoulders dismissively. “He was your friend, too, until you killed him,” he countered.

“He attacked me!”

Chris smiled eerily. “Ben was collateral damage. Waking you up has been my goal the whole time. I wasn’t counting on you entangling yourself with the Mikaelson’s, but here we are.”

Klaus moved, grabbing him by the throat, lifting him so the tips of his toes scraped the ground. “This is your traitor!” He shouted.

Elijah stepped forward slowly, addressing the crowd. “It seems this evenings little event has come to a close,” he stated calmly. “I suggest you take your leave now.” The majority of the crowd dispersed, not wanting to get involved in Mikaelson business, but a few remained, demanding answers, not willing to let the hunter go so easily. No matter, Elijah would handle them if need be.

Freya had been on the outskirts, watching the events unfold. She glanced down at her screen, waiting for Rebekah’s text.

“Freya,” Hayley whispered from over her shoulder. “We have to do something.”

The phone buzzed and Freya sighed in relief. “Rebekah’s located Cami, we have one shot at this…”

Hayley nodded in understanding, and rushed towards Y/N. “I’m so sorry,” she stated as she grabbed Y/N’s arm, slicing the palm of her hand with the dagger. Elijah turned on her, shock and betrayal on his face.

The vampires in the room shifted upon smelling her blood. Elijah reached out for Y/N, whose eyes began glazing over. She blinked rapidly, holding on as tightly as she could. “Y/N, focus on me,” he said before turning on Hayley. “What have you done?”

Hayley looked at him apologetically, the bloodied dagger in her hand, and Freya began chanting. A circle of flame erupted, pushing Y/N away from Elijah. He tried to get to her, but found himself encircled as well and he couldn’t cross the barrier. “Freya?”

Freya continued her chanting.

“What is the meaning of this?” Klaus demanded, loosening his grip on Christian.

A circle of flame went up around Klaus and his foe, and Klaus dropped him to his feet, slamming against the invisible barrier to get to Freya.

“Elijah, what’s happening?” Y/N backed away from the flames that surrounded her, the heat licking her skin.

“Freya stop this!” He shouted.

Freya’s chanting stopped abruptly. “Now,” she commanded.

The flames around Elijah dropped, releasing him from his temporary prison. As he charged towards his sister, Hayley cut him off, shoving the dagger into his chest. He dropped to his knees.

“Elijah!” Y/N shouted, frustrated that she couldn’t get to him.

Freya cradled her brother, helping him down to the ground slowly. “Forgive me, brother.”

Chris laughed, his voice carrying over the small crowd that stood in shock and confusion. “Turns out I don’t have to ruin a Mikaelson at all, they ruin themselves.”

Freya glared at him before smiling sweetly. “Rebekah found Cami,” she said quietly, Chris’ face draining of color as he realized he had no leverage. “His witch is dead.”

Klaus rounded on him, grabbing him by the throat once more. “You are pathetic,” he spat. “I offered you immortality, and you wasted it.” His hand ripped into his chest, seizing his heart, and pulling it out quickly - Chris’ lifeless corpse dropping to the ground.

Y/N screamed repeatedly, her voice hoarse and tiring. She dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

Hayley looked from her to Elijah. “Did it work?”

Freya watched as death crawled up Elijah’s body, his eyes shutting peacefully. She laid him down and Y/N’s screaming stopped. When Freya met her eyes, the hunter’s curse stared back. She nodded. “It’s done.” The flames dropped, releasing Klaus and Y/N.

Klaus moved towards Freya, but she anticipated his rage and she dropped him, clutching his head in pain.

Y/N stood, her stance threatening. One of the vampires foolishly charged forward, wanting his revenge and unable to resist the smell of her blood any longer, and Y/N spun so she was behind him, snapping his neck. She ran to the stairs, kicking out one of the metal posts in the banister and turned, throwing it with force into the chest of one of the werewolves. The remaining crowd began scattering, the human faction fighting their way through the doors as quickly as possible.

Hayley rushed in front of the wolves. “Go,” she commanded. “Now.” They shuffled hesitantly, not wanting to leave Hayley behind. “I’ve got this.” They obeyed their alpha and left.

Y/N was taking out anyone who entered her field of vision, leaving a path of blood and destruction behind her.

Klaus screamed in pain, clutching his head, but moved forward ever so slowly. Freya continued to keep him down, but he crawled towards Elijah’s body, gripping the dagger and yanking it out. “You will pay for this,” he hissed at his sister before dropping and gasping for breath.

“You’ll thank me later,” she muttered. “Hayley!” She shouted. “It’s now or never!”

Hayley nodded and rushed toward Y/N from behind, but she turned, kicking the hybrid away. Hayley crashed into a stone pillar and fell to the floor with a thud. She stood, shaking herself off and blowing her hair out of her face. “Alright, we’ll do this the hard way,” she grumbled before charging once more.

They clashed, Y/N countering all of Hayley’s assaults. Hayley was relentless though, and changed the pace, a tactic she had learned from Elijah, and came from behind Y/N, snapping her neck.

Y/N dropped to the ground and Klaus shouted. Freya released him, slumping next to Elijah’s body in exhaustion.

Klaus knelt at Y/N’s side, cradling her in his arms. “What did you do?” He shouted. He pulled her into his chest, clutching her lifeless body to him tightly and rocking softly. He vaguely heard Freya’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words in his heartache and quiet rage, so he just continued to hold her, wondering what would become of Elijah once he woke.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat like that, but he snapped out of it when Elijah knelt quietly in front of him, his eyes begging for an explanation. “What happened?” His voice was broken and full of disbelief.

“Ask our sister,” Klaus spoke, not meeting Elijah’s eyes. “Y/N’s gone, brother.”

Elijah pulled her from Klaus’ arms into his own, brushing her hair from her face and burying his head into her chest before the sobs overtook him.

“Where is Camille?” Klaus asked quietly, his need to see her overwhelming him.

“She’s on her way here with Rebekah. She’s safe.”

Something in Klaus snapped upon hearing Freya’s voice clearly. He walked up to her, his face an inch from hers, eerily quiet as his gaze hardened. Freya held her hands up. “Let me explain,” she backed away, but Klaus moved forward. “I linked her to Elijah!”

Klaus took a step back, and Elijah stood, placing Y/N’s body on a nearby table carefully. “You have exactly sixty seconds to explain what happened, before I end all of you,” Elijah’s voice was stern.

“I linked her to you,” Freya spoke quickly. “It was the only way, we took her blood on the dagger, and when the blade entered your heart I linked you - your body died, and so did hers, her soul anchored onto you, giving us the chance to kill her body while the curse had taken over, and if it works it undid everything and Y/N will wake up in her own body.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

“If it works?” Klaus asked.

Hayley stepped forward. “It was our only chance,” she began nervously. Both men looked at her, Klaus’ eyes filled with betrayal, Elijah’s showing nothing but anger. “Elijah, my people, my family…”

“Don’t,” he snapped.

Hayley jumped at his voice, startled, casting her eyes to the ground. “We should have told you…”

“What’s going on?” Rebekah walked in, Cami running to Klaus as he wrapped his arms around her desperately, relief flooding him. Rebekah looked around the room, taking in the destruction and bodies, before her eyes fell on Y/N. She approached the table slowly, reaching out to hold her hand.

“She’ll be fine,” Freya sighed, muttering a ‘hopefully’ under her breath. “I linked her temporarily to Elijah so I could kill her body while the hunter’s curse was active.”

Rebekah turned, worry taking over her features. “Oh no,” she whispered. “Elijah…”

“What is it?”

“This morning, I...I gave her my blood.”

Before anyone in the room could process what that meant, Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she gasped.

#Elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson x you #the originals #the originals imagine #the originals x reader #reader insert #the originals reader insert #elijah #Klaus mikaelson #freya mikaelson #Rebekah mikaelson #Klaus x reader #Rebekah x reader

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whereisyourtruenorth-blog · 5 years

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True North Winter Tips

I’ve casually looked around the internet (namely pinterest and youtube) for winter wardrobe tips and have genuinely laughed and been disappointed at the content that was brought up. Not that these people uploading these things didn’t post quality things, they just live in an area where their idea of Winter isn’t....well....is it REALLY Winter? Peep toed any sort of shoe? Thin knee length skirts with sheer tights? It just wasn’t practical and where I live I’m surrounded by northern, older generation practicality. I have a deep appreciation for the logical, simple, practical views on things here so I thought I’d share some. Some of them you may already do...they aren’t all about clothes because in real Northern weather it’s just not something you entirely think about.

1.) Dress appropriately. There’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing. When it’s -40 and the sides of your driveway are like The Wall in Game of Thrones (bust out your inner Ygritte) you must learn the appropriate way to layer your clothing. Learn about/wear base layers that trap in your body heat and wick moisture. Dampness can make the cold feel many times worse if you are wearing anything that soaks up moisture without expelling it. If you can, invest in a pair of good winter boots. and socks. Tuck your pant bottoms into your socks before putting your boots on so no air or moisture can get to the skin of your ankles. Mittens are a better option because they keep your fingers together to provide heat. I have found that locally made mittens that are a blend of wool/cashmere to be the best at half the cost of store bought mittens. Remember to protect your ears and head as well! If you’re going to be outside for more than 20 minutes a snood is perfect to tuck the bottom half of your face into to breathe into it to create moisture. If you’re prone to wind burn I suggest swiping a small amount of Vaseline or something similar onto those areas (usually cheeks) and on your lips for protection.

2.) Update your tires! Not all of us have trucks but 4 wheel drive is a great help. It can be expensive to be ready for Winter but if you live here long-term and have the means to slowly do things, tires are important. It’s a terrible idea to drive on bald tires in general but especially on snowy roads. If you have a smaller, compact vehicle it’s a great idea to add weight in your car to reduce sliding on slippery days on the road. Cat litter or 50lb bags of salt can help add a little traction.

3.) Have emergency items in your vehicle at the height of winter. An extra blanket or two, extra mittens, a small emergency kit, matches or a lighter, “Heet” for your gas tank, keep your gas tank ABOVE half consistently in case you get stuck somewhere. A lot of people keep a large empty tin can and candle in their vehicle in case they get stranded and for some reason you don’t have heat in your car. You can light the candle inside of the can and the can will act as a heat source. Do not keep items that can explode in the extreme cold. It’s not fun.

4.) Stay active! If you dress appropriately, go for walks! Around the block or more if you can. I swear it will reduce your seasonal moods. If you already enjoy partaking in winter sports that’s even better. If you’re living in a Northern state long-term you may as well bite the bullet and embrace it. Staying indoors constantly is what will deplete your happiness and Vitamin D levels. The sun is still out there! It’s even better if your family or friends are interested in doing something active with you. It can be as light or as strenuous as you want so long as you get outside for even 10 minutes.

5.) Eat seasonally. At least where I’m at it’s extremely easy and accessible to get local produce. Most people here have a garden but if not nearly half of the driveways have carts of produce at the entrance. We are also surrounded by Amish who do the same and have some of the best stuff there is. People here are decently sustainable and share produce or grow their own. I know that is not the same for everyone but find out what is local to you and utilize those resources. You will be supporting someone else local instead of a large corporation and getting great produce for a lower cost. Here I can get all root vegetables and squashes for the winter (or we can summer abundance), honey, maple syrup, oats, apples, pears, peaches, etc) Most of our homes have an area usually in the basement or pantry for root vegetables to store throughout the winter.I believe eating seasonally can give you nutrition that’s a little lost during the hardest months of the winter. The food is heartier and more dense than water summer foods for a reason. Incorporate these and some broth into your diet to help you re-load your energy.

6.) Site “How to Hygge” by Signe Johansen for a real play by play on the art of hygge. I bought this book about four years ago and I still go back to it every year. Coziness truly helps when it starts getting dark around 4pm. Light candles (evergreen scents are by far my favorite) and lots of them! Get small fairy lights. If you don’t have a real fireplace invest in a small electric one that will heat a room and create that ambience. Isn’t seeing people chop wood satisfying? I think it’s because it harkens back to when people did it purely out of survival. The scent of wood burning stoves are on my top favorite scents out there. I know it’s hard but try waking earlier in the day to get the most of the daylight that you can. People wake much later than in past generations and miss a decent chunk of their day. In the winter it’s important that your body gets the most daylight it can. Wake early, make your bed, go outside for a minimum of 10 minutes. It’s the easiest recipe for a little happiness.

7.) Crack your windows for 1/2 hour every week to bring in fresh air and the old can be drawn out. Sometimes our allergies worsen because our home is shut up with all of the dust and allergens. Crisp, fresh air for a small time every week can help clear it out.

8.) Speaking of windows...find which windows in your house let the most air seep through and get a plastic window kit to cover them. It can help for comfort ability and your heat bill. Obviously I suggest keeping one uncovered (whichever one doesn’t let air through) to be able to crack it once a week.

9.) Get a bird feeder or if you have one try to keep it stocked consistently! Sometimes seeing birds, especially cardinals and blue jays can improve your mood in the winter. When you unexpectedly catch a pop of red against the blanket of white is a real treat in February. Birds have more food options during the warm months but is harder to come by in the cold. I try to mix my bird seed with dried mealworms or make my own suet with lard and peanut butter because fats and heartier things like mealworms can really aid their lack of abundance in the cold. Plus I get excited when they seem to like my suet!

10.) Do not constantly engage in whining collectively about the weather. Spin the narrative. Whining about it helps no one and there’s a reason why Scandinavians are said to be rated some of the happiest people! They flow with nature including in the winter. You can be active as well as be a hermit. Get up, get dressed, go outside a little before or after work, come home and light your candles. Make a hot toddy with Tom and Jerry mix (nods at Wisconsinites) and get COZY. People are sometimes depressed, anxious and paranoid because there is a difference between earning coziness and just sheer laziness. Sometimes you get down on yourself because you wish you would be doing just the basic every day tasks but don’t. Even just trying to be positive about winter and saying something positive will help you and make others potentially have a different thought.

11.) Share with your neighbors! Winter is the seasons of the holidays and having people with you is a joy. Find a hobby that is something other than sitting on the couch all day on the computer, phone or TV watching. Your favorite TV show is not a personality trait. One of my favorite hobbies is baking. It gets my mind on the right track and I’m not spending hours scrolling through someone else's life. I’ve noticed that in Wisconsin we love fruit based desserts and pastries. It’s probably because at the end of fall we have a surplus of berries, tree fruits and rhubarb from the trees in our yard or garden or we foraged it ourselves in the woods. Apple or rhubarb crisp anyone? Make a crisp or whatever you want and give some to your neighbor or someone you know who may not have a lot of support or are going through a tough time. Instead of spending hours scrolling it can be such an easy way to bless someone else and you feel happy in turn.

12.) Do not over lotion your skin on cheap lotion! I really suggest oils or thick butters like pure shea butter in the winter months. Try not to constantly wash your hands in hot water as tempting as it is for hot water can dry your skin quicker. Bar soap (especially locally homemade) naturally has a higher fat content and can help keep your skin moist rather than liquid soap that has the tendency to strip moisture. Wilder Supply out of Alaska is a great company if you can’t find local.

13.) Buy YAKTRAX. These are seriously awesome for someone who enjoys being outdoors in the winter or if you have an outdoor job orrrrr if you’re just paranoid falling on ice ;) They are really affordable and offer a few different varieties depending on your activity and intent for them.

I could name so many more but for now that’s the top ones the came to mind to jot down!

#wisconsin #northern #midwest #winter #wilding #gameofthrones #snow #baking #winterstyle #cold #winterinspiration #winterinspo #christmas #newyears

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purplesurveys · 5 years

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565

How often do you eat your favourite food? Hmm I eat burgers maybe once a month at most because good burgers are hard to find and I don’t want to get tired of the burger places that I do frequent. For my other favorite food (sushi), I get it either once a week or once every two weeks, it varies. Have you ever fallen asleep on public transport? (including planes) I have fallen asleep but I still try my best not to do it, because I don’t like the idea of being unconscious in public. What room of the house are you in right now? I’m in the sala, which has taken over the title of Most Comfy Room ever since we bought a big new couch and an aircon for it. What was the last TV show you watched? I watched an episode of Queer Eye last night. I tried watching one today too but the current ep I’m on doesn’t interest me as much. Have you been using Apple Music? Nope.

Do you pay rent for the place you live? How often? No, not rent. Best guess would be that my parents pay for our house every month. How do you feel at this particular moment? Anything on your mind? I’m very hungry and I’m really tempted to spend my money on A LOT of good food today, but it’s only Monday and I have to keep that in mind lmao. Where was the last place you went on vacation/holiday to? Who’d you go with? My family and I went to Tagaytay and somewhere else in Cavite last August. We don’t get to go out a lot so we booked two hotels in that short 3-day weekend. Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? Not currently. List all the colours you’re currently wearing. Brown, black, and blue. Those colors don’t match at all but I’m at home, so. What’s your favourite type of donut? With a chocolate glaze, all warmed up to have the glaze just slightly melted. Starbucks does it best. I’ve had other donuts from other coffee shops and I JUST KNOW they’re trying to imitate Starbucks’ but none of them have done it as well so far. What do you usually eat for breakfast? White bread, sunny-side up egg, a couple of hotdogs. Do you have any candles in your bedroom? Do you light them often? I do not have candles, I don’t find it worth it to spend on them, even though I know it might be potentially relaxing and calming for me. Can you touch your toes without bending your knees? Nah. I used to, but now I’d have to slightly bend my knees if I wanted to reach my toes or the floor. When was the last time you went out for dinner? My friends and I had samgyup a couple of weeks ago. Have you seen all the Hunger Games films as of current? No, just the first one. I liked it, but didn’t feel like seeing the rest anymore. What was the last thing you said to someone else in person? “Goodnight” to my mom. Do you use Windows, Mac, Linux, or something else entirely? My MacBook Air runs on iOS, if that’s what you mean. How many times do you call someone on the phone a week? At least 7, if I consider how I call Gab every night before going to bed. Have you cooked anything today? What was it? Nope. I will reheat leftover carbonara right after this survey though. Do you have a lot of cousins? What are their names? I’m not sharing their names but Filipinos have a giant threshold for who they consider their cousins, dude. In fact I’ve given you the wrong count for my cousins this whole time because I’ve been completely forgetting about a batch of my second cousins living in the US :/ Including them now, I have...wait let me count...

I’ve counted 24 cousins so far just now but I bet you I’ve barely scratched the surface of just how many I have. What does your shampoo smell like? Just shampooey. I don’t like too strong scents on my hair. Have you ever had an exotic or unusual pet? Nope. Most ~exotic I could think of was probably Tobi, my rabbit. Any movies you’ve seen recently that you’d recommend to me? Nothing recently, no. Why did you last go see a doctor? Again, I needed it to be medically cleared before enrolling to my current university, which makes it around three years since my last visit.

Do you know how to play Minesweeper? Yes, but I’m awful at it. What was the last thing you bought online? Coloring books and pencils, but this was last year when I got into a depressive Christmas shopping binge for myself when I realized I had no one to celebrate Christmas with lol. Where do you usually park your car? In the garage, I guess? Idk what this question is supposed to mean like lol of course I’d park it somewhere around the house where a car would fit. Does your mail get delivered to your house or do you have to collect it? It gets delivered here. Are you more logical or creative? Logical. Do you cut tags out of clothing so they don’t itch and bother you? YES OMG I super hate the feeling but I only cut it out if it’s a lesser-known brand because I have no problem letting those tags go lmao. I’m a little more tolerant if the brand is more pricey like Zara or Mango, cos I’d want to flex those tags as much as they itch and irritate me lmao. What is your dream job? Do you think that’s attainable for you? I don’t really have a dream job...I just want to be in a high enough position in a media company, an ad agency, or a PR firm. I think it’s definitely attainable if I work hard and remain unafraid of stepping out of my comfort zones. When was the last time you looked at Facebook, Twitter or etc.? A few minutes ago. Have you ever been on a train? Where did you go? Just once. We went to Manila, and then we proceeded to go to the Senate office. How many times a year do you go on vacation? Around 3-5. Can you curl your tongue or do anything else cool with it? I can curl it, but that’s it. What was the last job interview you went to? Haven’t had any.

#survey #surveys

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eeriegrove · 6 years

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Okay, feel free to take liberty with this prompt. Katsuki has been super stressed out because of work and his sex life with Izuku is suffering the consequences. So Izuku does a bunch of enticing things trying to subtly seduce Katsuki throughout the work day until the final act causes Katsuki to snap and really passionate stress relief sex ensues. (Semi public is fine or private is fine too, up to you!)

Ah, thank you so much for the ask! I got a bit carried away, so it’s a bit longer than expected! I hope you like it! Office sex is the best sex, right? ;)

KatsuDeku - Stressed Out

Bakugou Katsuki was stressed out.

It didn’t take an idiot to tell that the blond was suffering through the work day. Ever since the villain attack at headquarters, he’d been burying himself in the paperwork and meetings that came along with it. Katsuki would never admit it, but when it came to his work, he was passionate. He didn’t want other people to be swamped with the papers, especially when he blamed himself for the attack.

Which it wasn’t, Izuku grumbled to himself, but he can’t get that in his thick head. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, the first time being when he accidentally blew up the eastern ward when a villain amplified his quirk. He was so upset over that, he refused to talk to Izuku for days.

“Hey, Kacchan?” he called out, peeking his head through the door of Katsuki’s office. As he expected, he was flipping through documents with a determined gaze. Izuku’s heart clenched in worry, but he kept it hidden. “I’m heading out to lunch. You want to come with me?”

Katsuki didn’t even look up at him. “I’m a bit busy over here, Deku. You know how it is.”

Izuku bit back a groan at how stubborn his boyfriend was. The incident was two days ago, and he hadn’t grabbed lunch with him for two days. Life around the office was getting lonely without his other half. “But I’ll be awfully lonely without you.” he trailed off, closing the door behind him. Izuku wandered over to the other side of the desk, resting his hand on his shoulder.

The one thing that really bothered Izuku wasn’t just the fact that his boyfriend was overworking himself. It was that his sex life was dwindling. Before the attack, they were on each other nearly 24/7: doing it at the office, bedroom, anywhere as long as they wouldn’t get caught. Katsuki loved to mark up Izuku, but now their nights were tense and had no passion behind it. It bothered Izuku to no end.

He leaned over and pecked Katsuki on the cheek before nuzzling into his neck, breathing in his scent. At least he smelt the same. “Izuku, cut it out. I’m busy.” he said, lightly pushing Izuku away. “If you’re lonely, go and take Round-Face with you.”

This time, Izuku didn’t hide his disappointment. “But she’s not you.” he whined, sitting on the edge of the desk where there weren’t any papers. “Can’t you take a break, Kacchan? C’mon, eat with me.”

Katsuki looked up, an exasperated glance sent his way. “Not right now. I’ll come home early, I promise.” He gave him a tired smile and went right back to reading. That’s a lie. You said that you’d come home early for me last night, but you got home around midnight! But he wasn’t looking for an argument.

With a sigh, he stood and walked towards the door. “I’ll grab you something to eat on my way out.” he said, dejected. Katsuki shooed him away.

“Don’t worry about that. Go on, have fun.” He didn’t look up from his paper that time either, and Izuku shut the door quickly in anger. If Katsuki was going to act like this, Izuku would have to try even harder to relieve his stress and burden. He’d just need to know how…

***

“I’d seduce the hell out of him.” Uraraka offered bluntly, taking a sip from her drink. Izuku nearly choked on his burger, swallowing it down with some water to avoid dying. She laughed at his reaction, but sobered quickly. “But seriously, if it’s affecting you like this, I’d take initiative. I mean, no sex in two days? That’s too long for you guys.”

Izuku flushed red, but didn’t object. It was true that they were well-known as the most sexually active couple among their friends, yet it was still embarrassing every time he heard about it. “What should I do, though? He keeps pushing me away if I get too affectionate.”

Uraraka hummed in thought. “Try doing it subtly, then. Make Bakugou come to you.” She gnawed on a fry.

Izuku contemplated the idea, smiling to himself. He’d have to pull a few stunts, but it might just work. “Thanks, Uraraka. I’d be losing my mind without you.” he breathed out, resting his head on his arms. He was exhausted too, having spent some nights awake thinking about Katsuki’s health and wellbeing. Izuku was worried, that was for sure.

She patted his head gently. “I wish you luck, Deku! Let me know if you need help with anything.”

Izuku nodded, getting to his feet. “Will do! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a boyfriend to seduce!” he exclaimed, grabbing his things before rushing out the door. Behind him, Uraraka laughed.

His mind was already set in motion, thinking of the many things that got Katsuki riled up. Izuku was smiling widely as the plans began to set themselves up. Oh, just you wait, Katsuki! I’ll have you back to normal in no time!

***

The first plan would be exposed skin. Katsuki absolutely lost his shit when Izuku showed his shoulders and collarbones, and it was sure to work against stubborn old Katsuki. He walked back up to Katsuki’s office, not even bothering to knock as he already knew that he would be in the same spot. He slipped in, closing the door softly behind him.

“How was lunch?” came Katsuki’s monotone question. Izuku rolled his eyes and crept forward, beginning to unbutton the top button to his shirt. It wouldn’t be a strip tease, but it would be enough to trigger some kind of response from the working man. Izuku walked behind his chair and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, leaning forward to pretend that he was reading the papers. It put his collarbone in perfect sight, if Katsuki was willing to look.

“What are you doing, Deku?” he sighed, lifting his hand to swat him away. Izuku stayed latched on his shoulders, swirling him around on his chair until he was nearly in the man’s lap. Katsuki’s red eyes immediately noticed the hem of Izuku’s shirt, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. He definitely looked tempted, but would he hook on the line?

“Like what you see, Kacchan?” Izuku purred, cupping his boyfriend’s cheek. In response, the man leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. Izuku’s hopes were raising, excitement thrumming through his veins.

“Not in the mood, Deku.” he said instead, gently pushing him away and turning back to the desk. Disbelief turned into frustration as Izuku was left standing there. Seriously?

“Right.” he said, sounding dejected.

Katsuki sighed, but didn’t look back. “Maybe later, Deku. When I’m not so busy.” he offered, but even Izuku knew that wasn’t going to happen. When he wasn’t busy, he was sleeping. There was no time in between.

Izuku left without a word in response, fixing his collar on the way out. That was only the first try! He’ll surely get him with the next one.

***

The next plan was dinner. He would have to make it quickly, since he got off work later than Katsuki (thankfully, Katsuki always left work later anyway) and he’d have to get dressed for the occasion. Last time Izuku wore a tux, Katsuki immediately took it right off of him and they had the best sex imaginable. If he could do that again…

He sent a text to Katsuki, letting him know that he’d be waiting for him. Izuku even sent him a teaser picture of what he was wearing, not exposing too much. The dinner that he made was spicy curry, just for Katsuki, and by the taste of it, it was damn good. Katsuki would love it. Alongside the dinner, he set the table and lit a few candles, setting the atmosphere to a warm, candle-light dinner. Izuku was excited to see his reaction.

So he waited. And waited. Thirty minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned to two as he waited for Bakugou to show. After three hours passed, Izuku finally threw in the towel. He blew out the candles and put the curry in the fridge, too upset to even eat as he peeled off his suit and hung it back up. Izuku nestled into the covers and wiped away a frustrated tear.

Of course he wouldn’t show. I doubt he even saw the text. Izuku hiccuped and covered his face in his hands.

Why does this hurt so much?

***

It was Izuku’s last attempt at seducing his boyfriend and freeing him from work. If Katsuki didn’t fall for that one, then he’d finally relent and confront his boyfriend head on about how much this was bothering him.

He didn’t knock this time either, walking right into his office. Only, there was a new sight to greet him. Gone were the papers scattered across his desk, instead all that was on it was a laptop. Katsuki was talking to someone on there, his professional voice in place. Oh crap, Katsuki’s having a meeting right now!

He nearly backed out when a sudden idea hit him. What if…?

Izuku smirked and approached the desk, keeping quiet and out of sight as he snuck under the desk. He rested his hand on Katsuki’s thigh, startling him out of his conversation. He gawked down at him before having to focus on the video call once more, his face taking on a pinkish hue. Gotcha.

He unzipped his pants slowly, palming his boxers to see what kind of response he’d get. The small noise in the back of Katsuki’s throat was all he needed to hear before he pulled down his pants and boxers, freeing his cock. It wasn’t nearly as hard as it could be, so Izuku got to work, lowering his lips to the tip. He used his hand to pump his shaft as he swirled his tongue over the head, humming softly to further stimulate him.

Katsuki grabbed his hair, the grip rough as he tried to get him to stop. However, Izuku’s hands were glued to his thighs and he refused to let up. Soon, Katsuki was trying to keep a straight face while he kept a conversation, Izuku sucking his dick under the desk. He moved his hand and moved his head lower, swallowing down Katsuki’s cock while willing his throat not to seize up.

He bobbed his head, flattening his tongue on the underside of his cock. Katsuki’s hand stayed in his hair, but he made no move to protest. Izuku had finally hooked him.

Suddenly, Katsuki thrusted his hips up, promptly gagging Izuku. Katsuki masked the sound with a cough, confidently smiling back at the camera. “Oh, that was nothing. I believe I may be coming down with something, however. Maybe we should reschedule this call? I’d hate to interrupt, but I’m not feeling so well.”

His grip in Izuku’s hair tightened as he shallowly thrusted, but Izuku had adapted by now. It wasn’t the first time Katsuki had used his throat roughly, so he got used to it real quick. Speaking of, Katsuki was wrapping up the call, politely bowing his head before shutting the laptop. Immediately, he glared down at Izuku, pulling Izuku off of his cock.

“You’re fucking ballsy, I’ll give you that.” he breathed out, his face red. Katsuki pulled Izuku up and nearly threw him on the desk, roughly grabbing at his clothes. Soon, they were both stripped naked as they took turns kissing and biting. They weren’t playing nice anymore. The stress of their own issues were driving them at that point.

Izuku moaned as Katsuki began to finger him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to stabilize himself. “More, Katsuki!” he stuttered, yanking him down to kiss him, his tongue battling with his. They were messy, always had been, when it came to sex. And now that Izuku was getting what he wanted, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Katsuki pushed Izuku down until he was flush against the desk, his legs sprawled on either side of the blond’s hips as he panted. Katsuki was already pushing inside him, having prepared him enough, and was thrusting. There was no foreplay, no sweet talk. This was pure stress relief.

Izuku found support by grabbing the edge of the desk, muffling his moans by biting his lip. Katsuki was doing the same, pounding Izuku into the desk with frantic whines as he grabbed Izuku’s hips to keep him in place. It felt so good, the feeling of Katsuki’s cock sliding in and out of his ass while he was powerless to do anything about it.

“Fuck, Izuku.” Katsuki broke the silence. “Feels so good.”

Izuku could hardly respond, instead drooling as Katsuki hit his prostate. Realizing where he thrusted, Katsuki angled his hips better and pistoned inside him, hitting that spot over and over. Izuku was having a field day, crying profusely as he neared his release.

Katsuki’s pace only got rougher as he neared his release too, holding Izuku down as he came with a cry. Izuku followed soon after, the sensation of Katsuki’s cum spurting inside of him was too much for his body to handle. They stayed still after that, breathing heavily as they came down from their high.

“Feeling better?” Izuku teased after he caught his breath, wiping his sweat from his brow.

“Shut up.” Katsuki responded, smiling as he bent down and kissed his boyfriend again. “Sorry for getting so overwhelmed.”

Izuku thought about it for a second. “Well, if it means that we can have sex like that more often, I’d say you’re forgiven.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #katsudeku #bakudeku #bnha prompt #eeriegrove

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dillvne · 6 years

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TASK 001. DIVE INTO YOUR CHARACTER.

oi chuchus, tentei fazer um negócio diferente então acabei juntando algumas coisinhas que, na minha concepção, são bem interessantes. e que coletei durante as aventuras pela tag indie. espero que não tenha problema estar em inglês ! a tag para a postagem da task é task01.apocalypse e sintam-se livres para fazer edits, moodboard ou qualquer opções de aesthetic, ou nenhuma. o que acharem melhor. é isso, espero que gostem <3

YOUR STEREOTYPICAL MASCULINE SIDE

NEGRITE o que se aplicar ao seu personagem.

you love hoodies. you love shorts. dogs are better than cats. it’s hilarious when people get hurt. shopping is torture. sad movies suck. you own a car racing game. you played with hot wheels cars as a kid. at some point in time you wanted to be a fire fighter. you owned a ds, ps2, n64, or sega. you used to be obsessed with power rangers. you have watched sports on tv. gory movies are cool. you go to your dad for advice. you own like a trillion baseball caps. you used to collect hockey or baseball cards. baggy sweats are cool to wear. it’s kinda weird to have sleepovers with a bunch of people. green, black, red, blue, or silver are one of your favourite colours. you love to go crazy and not care what people think. sports are fun. you talk with food in your mouth. you sleep with your socks on at night. you have fished at least once.

YOUR STEREOTYPICAL FEMININE SIDE

you love to shop. you wear eyeliner. you wear the color pink. you go to your mom to talk. you consider cheerleading a sport. you hate wearing the color black. you like going to the mall. you like getting manicures and/or pedicures. you like wearing jewelry. you cried watching the notebook. dresses are a big part of your wardrobe. shopping is one of your favorite hobbies. you don’t like the movie star wars. you are/were in gymnastics. it takes you around one hour to shower, get dressed, and make-up. you smile a lot more than you should. you have more than 10 pairs of shoes. you care about what you look like. you like wearing dresses when you can. you like wearing high heel shoes. you used to play with dolls as little kid. you like putting make-up on others. you like being the star of everything.

APPEARANCE

i am shorter than 5’5”. i have scars. i tan easily. i wish my hair was a different color. i have friends who have never seen my natural hair color. i have a tattoo. i am self-conscious about my appearance. i’ve had/have braces. i’ve been told i’m attractive by a complete stranger. i have more than two piercings. i have/had piercings in places besides my ears.

EXPERIENCES

i’ve gotten lost in my city. i’ve seen a shooting star. i’ve wished on a shooting star. i’ve seen a meteor shower. i’ve gone out in public in my pajamas. i’ve pushed all the buttons on an elevator.i’ve kicked a guy where it hurts. i’ve been to a casino. i’ve been skydiving. i’ve gone skinny-dipping. i’ve drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour. i’ve crashed a car. i’ve been skiing. i’ve been in a musical. i’ve caught a snowflake or snow on my tongue. i’ve seen the northern lights. i’ve sat on a rooftop at night. i’ve played a prank on someone. i’ve ridden in a taxi. i’ve seen the rocky horror picture show. i’ve eaten sushi. i’ve been snowboarding.

HONESTY/CRIME

i’ve done something i promised someone else i wouldn’t. i’ve done something i promised myself i wouldn’t. i’ve snuck out. i’ve lied to my parents about where i am. i’ve cheated while playing a game. i’ve ran a red light. i’ve witnessed a crime. i’ve been in a fist fight. i’ve been arrested.

DEATH AND SUICIDE

i’m afraid of dying. i hate funerals. i’ve seen someone/something dying. someone close to me has attempted/committed suicide. i’ve written a eulogy for myself.

RANDOM

i can sing well. stolen a tray from a fast food restaurant. i open up to others easily. i watch the news. i don’t kill bugs. i sing in the shower. i am a morning person. i paid for a cell phone ring tone. i am a sports fanatic. i twirl my hair. i care about grammar. i have “?”’s in my screen name. i’ve copied more than 30 cds in a day. i bake well. my favorite color is either white, yellow, pink, red, blue, black, purple, or orange. i would wear pajamas to school. i like martha stewart. i know how to shoot a gun. i laugh at my own jokes. i eat fast food weekly. i’ve not turned anything in and still got an a in a certain class. i can’t sleep if there is a spider/cockroach in the room. i am ticklish. i love white chocolate. i bite my nails. i’m good at remembering faces.i’m good at remembering names. i’m good at remembering dates. i honestly have no idea what i want to do for the rest of my life.

RUSSIAN CLASSICS AESTHETICS.

NEGRITE o que atrair / se aplicar ao seu personagem.

BROTHERS KARAMAZOV : orthodox monasteries , deep woods , starry nights , the sound of paper being torn , dimly lit rooms , withered roses , an unfinished letter , piles of books , the sound of shattering glass , ticking of clocks in a silent house , heavy wooden furniture , the air before a storm , the smell of earth , a crowd of people dressed in black , distant murmurs , emptied streets , the fear of walking alone in dusk.

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT : coldness of the skin against a blade , slender pale fingers & slightly shaking hands , a red stain blooming on white fabric , lonely steps in a corridor , the slow dripping of water , looking out of the window into the thickening darkness , a single dying candle on the table , listening to one’s breath & counting heartbeats , too many stairs , the desire to be invisible , a subtle memory of kind word.

THE IDIOT : classical statues , wealth covered with dust , a dark house tainted with inherited madness , an unsettling feeling , long walks in a park , useless chatter , a silken ribbon forgotten on a bench , a melancholic face , an unexpected spring rain , the joy of reading one’s favorite book , the clarity of mind after fully perceiving the world around , looking at cloudless sky.

ANNA KARENINA : fields of crops , flowers brought from an early morning walk , the wind caressing a girl’s hair , a bowl of fruit , the smell of ripe pears , the clatter of a spoon against porcelain when stirring tea , children’s laughter coming from the garden , soft sunlight & white curtains , the sensation of velvet against skin , pearls from a ripped necklace spilling on marble floor , a sudden silence in a room full of people.

WAR AND PEACE : a glass of wine , the brightness of a crystal chandelier , white lace , a raging snow storm , the sound of a door being gently closed , the moment of holding one’s breath before walking in a ball room , indulging in looking at a beautiful earring against light , closing one’s eyes for a moment while dancing , the sweet smell of strawberries , a pair of gloves left on an armchair , light scent of powder.

THE MASTER AND MARGARITA : the chaos of a lively city , ambient jazz in expensive restaurants , jumping on a moving tram , the sight of moscow from the roof of a house , yellow flowers in a vase , leaning out of the window , shelves stacked with books , a small tin box with old photographs , strange shapes in the night sky , laughing in the middle of the night on a balcony , colorful posters for a surreptitious magician’s show floating in the wind.

EUGENE ONEGIN : a lonely mansion , reading a book in the parlor , faint piano melody lingering in falling silence , long evenings , passing seasons , discussing french novels of the moment , unspoken thoughts , leaning against the door frame , quickly averted glance , eating a peach absent-minded , bright mornings , footprints in snow , a loud gun-shot terrifying a flock of birds nearby.

FATHERS AND SONS : birch groves , morning mist , moss-covered stones near a moor , scientific books , white roses , cheap champagne , shabby pocket-watch , light-hearted irony , a maladroit cello sonata , freshly mowed grass , leaving thoughts come & go , a slow yawn , picturesque plates & bowls filled with traditional dishes , drinking tea on the porch.

DOCTOR ZHIVAGO : a strange feeling of loss , writing poems in a diary , traveling by train , the hesitation before touching someone’s hand , the gaze of one lost in thought , the warmth of cinnamon , a scarf brightly embellished with flowers , a glass of water , a threadbare jacket , the tempting void , the evanescent serenity of yesterday.

CHERRY ORCHARD : a lone chair in an empty room , falling blossoms , old samovar , the unsettling need for change , a mirror reflecting full moon , the disappointment of a glossy object turning worthless after second glance , a piano out of tune.

#task01.apocalypse

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jonogueira · 7 years

Text

Áine.

Here’s the AO3 and the link to Moon Hair e Fire Eyes. I was listening to this while writing.

Chapter 31

The nothing.

Cullen had the small daisy in his closed hand; so many times he tried to throw it away.

That night in his office when he didn’t light the candles or the fireplace, where the cold wind came through the open windows, he leaned on the wall after reading her letter for the seventh time, and stared at the valley below where the small spots of light indicated that he still had to stay.

He felt the petal in his palm and swung his arm, but again failed to open his hand letting the little flower fly away from him, getting lost in the ocean of snow. He sighed and turned his back, his hand on his chest with the most precious thing he had in it.

When the demons had been slain, and her brothers finally reached him and Nevan in that terrible scene, her body in his arms and blood spreading across the ground, none of them said a word, and her brothers didn’t stop him when he carried her body away.

They all knew she believed in the Maker, and as good Andrastians, they cremated her body. Cullen made sure to cut the wood himself, to lay her body there and set it on fire. He said goodbye and stayed long after there were only ashes. He picked and scattered them in the villager’s garden. It was a shame there weren’t many flowers, it had a white blanket making it difficult to see the ground. A sad smile reached his face when he realized his life would be like the small place; voided of flowers and color, just a big nothingness.

His life had been one shade of cold blue, but when she arrived, she brought along a rainbow, and the color had other meaning, other tones; it turned to a warm hue, like the life she had given him, blue like the ocean and sky, blue like the forget-me-nots.

The forget-me-nots with the blue petals surrounding a yellow center, protecting it. Blue like her curls and yellow like his. She said she would protect him and she did until the end.

When he gave her the flowers, he didn’t know their real meaning, but now he did, and he hated it. To know he had her, and he let her go. He had all he would ever want but was stupid enough to ruin everything. She told him not to go, she asked him; he didn’t listen, and now he had to live with the consequences. She died because of him.

At first, he thought her family would hate him, wrong again; they were closer than before. Always around to check on him; Mother would often bring him food in the office, the twins never quit calling him to a few rounds of Wicked Grace, Finley was present in the training ground every day, and Nevan always played chess with him. None of them demanded an explanation or judged him because the pain he was feeling they were feeling too. He wanted them to hate him as he hated himself, but in mutual pain and emptiness, they went on existing.

Existing because, without her, food didn’t taste, the sun wasn’t bright enough, the nights were waking nightmares and the days dragged on. He continued functioning because he had a job to do, a self-proclaimed god to kill.

When they arrived in Skyhold Leliana was waiting for them by the gates. She looked Cullen in the eyes and hugged him.

“She is fine.” – She said in a matter of fact whisper only for him to hear – “She has to. She promised me she would always come back from her missions, and she never breaks her promises.”

He tried to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but the small bird flew away; the spymaster didn’t give him the opportunity; the Chantry’s sister started to pray.

She always talked about her as if she was still alive, like she would walk through the gates at any given moment, and he hated her for it. There was a discussion in the war room, but she was set in her beliefs. He told her every little detail from that day, how he killed her, how he killed him. Leliana listened, and with those piercing blue eyes she saw him, she saw how deep his guilty went and scolded him for that, she told him he should have faith in Andraste, the Maker, and Áine; she swept his tears away.

He questioned her times and times how could she still believe she was alive, and if she had any news and her answer was always the same.

“I don’t have any news, but I believe in her, and so should you.”

And one day there in the training grounds, in the first rays of morning Sera joined him in his training routine. She arrived without announcing and stood there by his side. He saw her take an arrow from her quiver and aim with precision. She was just there, still; he knew she was thinking about the times she was helping Áine, teaching her how to use her new longbow. He remembered the funny dance she did around Sera when she hit the target with an ice arrow, and how the elf got angry.

He swung his sword once and then again, and again, and again until he cut the dummy in half. In the corner of his eyes, he saw arrows being loosed one after another and hit the big red circle. When there were no more arrows, he saw the small elf take her dagger, and sank it repeatedly in the dummy near his. He didn’t know how long they kept at it, all he knew is that somehow he hugged Sera and they silently lamented into each other’s arms. She held him tightly by the waist and cried. She sobbed in his arms, and he understood.

Varric, to his surprise, was always around. He never let Cullen have a moment alone, not during the day at least. He often dragged Curly to eat with him in the tavern, not that they ate anything, but they would just sit there and drink. Varric advised him to talk to someone, but he snorted and said that he was fine, and after the hundredth time the dwarf asked him, and he finally gave up, he told Cullen to at least try writing what he was feeling. And he did try, but all he could do was write her name, over and over.

Dorian placed a chair in Cullen’s office and would often go there with a book in his hand; never saying anything, never questioning, just sitting there leaving Cullen to wonder what was it he wanted. And when the Commander finally asked, he merely stated that when he was ready, he was going to talk to him, not before and not after, but at the right time. Cullen got used to the mage’s presence and even secretly thanked him, the blue liquid on his shelf more tempting than ever, and the man’s presence kept it away.

The Inquisitor had left to the Lost Temple of Dirthamen a few days after they left to their mission, and she had taken with her Blackwall, Cole, and Cassandra. They didn’t know what had happened and Cullen was grateful, he wished to postpone as much as he could to meet with them, he couldn’t handle more people pitting him. Iron Bull was sent to the Storm Cost along with Solas to meet with the Blades of Hessarian two days after they arrived, but both warriors showed their sympathies and promised a round of ale when they returned. Krem nodded in acknowledgment.

Josephine tried to take some work from him, but she then understood that keeping his mind busy was the solution, so she helped by not letting any noble bother him. She would also send a lot of little notes between the reports saying that he had friends, and they were there for him.

He spent many awaken nights in the garden, not for the flowers because there weren’t many, and yet, he thought it was quiet and reserved, different from his bed where it was loud and scary. Her scent and her touch, her laughter and her voice, her smile and her eyes, her curls and her warmth haunting him. No matter what he did, the many times he tried, but he just had to close his eyes, and he could feel her warm blood on his hands, he could hear her mocking laughter.

It was the sixtieth day since she had died, and all he wanted was to be alone in his office, to hold the small flower and think about her, maybe try to write something, send his sister the letter he had been avoiding since she last wrote to him. But he couldn’t, the Inquisitor had arrived three days before; Alessa, Cassandra, and Blackwall showed their support, but the spirit Cole was nowhere to be seen.

And there they were, in the war room discussing their strategies to go to the Winter Palace. They had to re-plan a few things since Áine’s presence was required to move on with their older plan, and without her, they had to find a substitute, and they all agreed Maryden would be perfect.

And when the meeting came to an end, and he was standing there alone with the small ice flower in his hands, his fingers caressed each petal, like they were one of her curls. The gesture reminded him of the dream he had that same night.

That precious night he dreamed of her, not a nightmare but a dream. They were young in the tower, he a templar and she a mage, before the chaos and everything that changed their lives. She was exactly like he remembered with her smiling eyes, the same way of biting the inner mouth, and the humming, always the humming.

They were alone in the barely lit library, the moonlight illuminating the books on the shelves, the sudden flash of lightning and the sounds of thunder filled the place. He approached her with wavering steps and raised his shaking hand to touch her cheek but stopped midway, afraid it was a dream. She laughed, and when he felt the warmth of her hand in his, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he saw her smile and lean on his touch.

“Silly templar,” – She said while giggling – “don’t be afraid!”

He held her close and felt her arms around his neck, her breathing on his skin.

“Don’t leave me alone, please. I’m nothing without you. You are my everything, and I’m so sorry, I should…”

She silenced him with her fingertips on his mouth.

“I will always be with you. All you need to do is call, and I will come.” – He tried but failed to stop them, and the tears rolled down his cheeks. – “No, don’t cry.” – She cleaned his tears with the tip of her thumbs while humming. – “Don’t cry silly templar. Can you promise me something?” – She studied his honey colored eyes.

He wrapped her curls around his fingers and nodded while breathing in their scent. She held him, and he heard her saying “don’t forget to live.”

He woke up calling her name and noticed he was alone in his dark room, in his cold bed, with a wet pillow.

He swallowed hard, tucked the little memento away and left the place with a stack of reports in his arms. He turned to close the door behind him and saw the orange clouds through the stained-glass windows, and he let the words slip through his lips.

“I miss you Blue. I wish you were here.”

He didn’t need to look to know where he was going, Skyhold’s architecture was engraved in the back of his mind, so he let it wander, and he asked himself what would they be doing tonight if she was still there.

He opened the door to Josephine’s office, and the warmth coming from the fireplace reminded him of the day he saw her dancing for the first time; and although he didn’t dance, he wished he had danced with her when he had the opportunity.

He walked to the ambassador’s desk to retrieve more reports, and he remembered the first letter Áine sent him. In which she wished he could find someone that could make him happy like he did her happy with only one smile, and he wished he had written her more letters, telling her how happy she made him feel, how complete he was with her.

He closed his eyes and sighed. He filled his lungs and held his breath, letting the air out with trembling chest. He took the reports and turned to leave the place but stood in front of the fireplace; she always made sure his office was warm when she was in Skyhold. She lit all the candles and the fireplace. At night she would bring her body next to his claiming she was cold and then she would entwine her legs in his, but she was also the first to move away because it was too hot. The memory brought a smile to his lips, and he ran his fingers through his hair.

He slowly backed away from the fire, and with a last glance he headed to the door, but when he was a meter away, Cole appeared in front of him with a smile on his face.

“Everything is going to be alright now.”

And just the way the boy appeared he left, leaving Cullen alone with his thoughts.

How could he say that? How could he claim everything was going to be alright when she was dead? Cullen felt his lips tremble and took a deep breath.

With two big steps he reached the door, his shaking fingers turned the knob. Pulling the door, he felt a gulf of cold air hit him. He entered the throne room with head high; he was, after all, the Commander of the Inquisition, he couldn’t be seen like that, feeling sorry for himself, shaken, broken.

When the noise of the hinges stopped, and Cullen had fully entered the place, he noticed everyone was looking at him. Josephine was standing by the Inquisitor’s side near the throne, and they had teary eyes. Leliana was giving him the biggest smile he had ever seen on her face. Dorian and Varric, who were leaving the undercroft, nodded at him.

Cullen was standing there, eyebrows pinched together and lips slightly apart when he heard laughter, and that was when he noticed the place was in silence. He turned his head in the sound’s direction and saw Finley, the twins, Nevan and Mother in a mess of arms. Dudu looked at him and whistled, and that was when he saw them.

Blue curls.

The mass of arms retreated, and he saw her. She was standing there, near the garden’s door, and Maker she had the most beautiful smile.

His feet moved without being commanded. At first, they were slow, like walking in water; he traced her body and noticed the burn scar on her left arm. Then his feet were normal, and he saw her tucking blue curls behind her ear. The reports fell from his hands when he started running in her direction; she laughed with her hand over her mouth.

His body met hers, and he lifted her off the ground. His lips locked on hers and he felt her fingers in his hair. At that moment he made sure to breathe her in, to taste her, to feel her against him, her touch on his skin. He could feel her smile against his lips.

He put her down and saw himself kneel before her, his fingers grabbing her clothes to keep her near. His cheeks were wet, and he gazed into her eyes.

“Is this real or is it a dream?” – He didn’t care about anything else but her; he ignored the nobles, the soldiers, the people. He cried – “Are you really here?”

She crouched near him, and he saw her wince when she bent her right ankle. She kissed his lips again and whispered in his mouth while they studied each other’s eyes.

“Oh, silly templar! Can I not leave for a few days?” – She hugged him and whispered in his ear. – “You know how much I miss my pet butterfly, Ms. Rocky. And if I remember correctly blood magic is not allowed around here.”

He laughed, and it was a laugh of relief, of longing, of guilt.

“Áine…”

He touched her wet face with the tip of his fingers, but she interrupted him.

“I have something for you.” – She gave him a package. – “I hope you like it.”

He looked at the package and her. She was biting her inner mouth, and he smiled at the little gesture.

He opened it, and a pair of new gloves were in front of him. He raised his eyes, and she was smiling.

“I found your gloves on the ground. I knew they were yours, I would recognize them anywhere. So, I bought new ones. I hope you liked them.” – She was blushing.

And he was there looking at her. Why? Why was she like that? After everything she had been through because of him, she still cared, she still wanted him.

He kissed her again and thanked with a smile. He stood up and took her in his arms; they left to his office and none of them looked behind.

“Everything is as it should be!” – Cole whispered with a big smile.

Thank you for your time!

#áine #aine #cullen rutherford #chapter 31 #the nothing #nothing

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