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frightwrite · 2 months

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Orc Mercenary: Gurak

A little something from my old blog. Thought reposting it again would be alright since a lot folks seemed to like it.

NSFW

Female Reader x Male Orc

Business had been slow these past couple of weeks. Most of the usual customers hadn’t been appearing as often as they should and you had begun to assume most of them were either dead or had their nomadic adventures further away from your village. The village you resided in was known for supplying adventurers brave enough to explore the lands. Which you, being prominent in alchemy, found it convenient to work on your craft and bring in as much coin from the adventurers as possible.

That evening was the usual routine. Not a lot of folks traveled that far out to your store when it rained, so you spent most of your time keeping yourself busy. You did a bit of housekeeping. Dusting off the old relics, restocking your shelves with potions, and enchanting jewelry up until you got distracted. The bell had chimed signaling someone had entered your little storefront and you had said your usual greeting before looking up, astonished by the sight of him.

The being in your doorway was an orc and he was as intimidating as you have heard from local travelers.. Long tusks protruded from his mouth, a silver ring was dangling between his nostrils and dark tattoos adorned his deep green arms and chest. His black, braided hair had been soaked with the rain. He was well built, that much was evident with the way his leather armor further accented his muscles. But what had caught your attention was the large gash the orc was clutching on his side, dark blood dripping onto your polished wooden floor.

“Excuse me,” His voice was hoarse as he spoke, “I heard you may have something for this.” He moved his arm away from his abdomen, revealing the deep gash just under the right side of his ribs.

A sickening feeling filled the pit of your stomach when you saw the wound. Blood oozed out of it, dripping onto your floor. You have seen many wounds during your time as the local alchemist, all of which have always made you feel squeamish. You hated the sight of blood. But this put all the other injuries to shame.

“You’ll need a lot more than just one potion,” Motioning for him to follow you, you lead him to a side room in the store. You usually keep the extra potions in this room and a makeshift sink for your own personal needs. He seated himself on the small cot, glancing around the small room. You assumed he was looking at the various potions and enchantment scrolls sitting about that you had yet to tidy up.

“You’re a witch?” He managed to croak out while you walked over to assess his wound. You chuckled, moving away from the orc to search around the shelves for the ingredients you needed.

“I prefer the term alchemist,” You returned near him, with some herbal remedies along with a mixing bowl. You sat in silence as you crushed and ground the herbs, mixing some of them with a few drops from a potion bottle until it formed a sticky green paste. You scooped up a good amount of the paste on your fingers and turned to your patient. His dark eyes had been watching every move you’d make very intently.

“I’m assuming that isn’t going to kill me,” He groaned and gave the paste in your cautious glance.

A playful chuckle resounded from your lips as you began to dab the ointment around his wound. “If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now.”

His face scrunched up in disdain as he let out a hiss from the sudden stinging sensation. You mumbled a quick apology as you continued your work. You had never had an orc as a customer before. Your usuals mostly consisted of human mercenaries and the occasional elven mage. Orcs were rarer in your parts. They kept to themselves in their strongholds and only ever left if it meant there was a blacksmithing or mercenary job for them in one of the major cities.

Taking the bandaids, you began to wrap the cloth around his abdomen, making sure it was tight enough. You stood back, admiring your handiwork with a satisfied hum. “The sealant will work on its own, no need for stitches or bloody needles.”

“That’s it? No magic words or shiny spells,” The orc sat up to stretch out his arms, giving you a full view of his chiseled features. You blushed and scolded yourself. You shouldn’t be ogling over your new customer.

“I told you I’m an alchemist. If you wanted magic you could’ve asked one of the mages at the college.” You huffed gathering your items together. “You’re better suited for the road now. I won’t charge you anything since this was an emergency. Think of it as my good deed for the day.”

You walked back towards the front of the store, the orc following right behind you. He stopped in front of your desk, eyeing you closely while you scribbled some notes down on parchment paper. For a while you decided to ignore him, going about your business and shuffling around the front desk. But the longer you worked, the longer he stood there in awkward silence.

You paused to glance up at him, a brow raised in confusion. He smiled, shook his head, and said his goodbyes before leaving your store without another word. It was an odd way to end your encounter, but you shrugged it off. The next couple of days went by as usual. You sold some healing potions to a traveling mercenary and sold some ring enchantments to the local blacksmith. The third day was when the orc returned, this time his wounds had healed and only a faint scar remained. Which you had to admit seemed to suit him.

“Hello, Ms. Witch.” He greeted as he walked towards your counter, placing down a neatly folded blanket made of fur that was much larger than anything else you owned.

You rolled your eyes playfully at the new nickname he chose for you and reached out to touch the pelt. Your fingers brushing over the incredibly soft material.

“Woah, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything this soft.” You said in awe. “Is this for me?” You turned your attention to the orc who quickly nodded.

“It’s a gift for patching me up.” He nervously turned away from you and you could have sworn you saw a faint blush appear on his cheeks. “I thought since winter was approaching you might appreciate this.”

“I do, thank you.” You took the blanket and quickly went in the back to place it on a chair. You returned to the front counter with a small stove and a teapot that usually acted as your tiny, yet portable kitchen. You gathered some simple herbs around your counter’s cabinet to make some tea for your guest.

You poured water into the pot, clicking the stove on to boil the water. As you created a mixture of chamomile and lavender, you briefly looked over Gurak’s wound. “How are you feeling? Did the wound heal up alright?”

Gurak nodded. “Yes, the wound is fine. It felt like my skin was being burnt off. Thought you really did intend to kill me but it stopped after a few days and I ended up with this scar.”

You snorted at his little jest and began to place the herbal mixture into the boiling water. You leaned over the counter to get a better look at the orc’s scar, humming in thought before leaning back. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you end up with such a nasty wound?”

“I wouldn’t want to bore you.” Gurak chuckled. He watched as you turned off the stove and placed two teacups in front of you. “I’m sure you’ve had more interesting patrons.”

You poured some tea into two cups, handing one to Gurak before blowing gently on your own. “I doubt I have. So far you’re the only customer that’s piqued my interest.”

“Well, aren’t I lucky? I suppose I could tell you my story.” The orc laughed to himself once more, swirling the contents of his teacup which was dwarfed by his large hand. “Unlike most orcs, I don’t belong to a stronghold. I work as a mercenary of sorts, I go where I am needed. Not many of my kind are in my line of business. Would much rather prefer to deal with our own kind. I left to find a better use for my skills, so I offered my services. I got hired for simple tasks, retrieving lost items, pest control, hired muscle for caravans. That sort of thing. Recently, I was hired to retrieve a man’s sword out of a bandit camp. Family heirloom. I’m sure you could tell how well that job went.”

You listened intently as he spoke, only breaking eye contact every now and then to sip your tea. “I’m impressed. You managed to take on a group of bandits and only left with that gash in your stomach. I wouldn’t want to see what you did to them in return!”

Gurak beamed at your words which appeared to boost his ego. “I am honored you think so.”

The bell on your front door rang causing you to flinch and turn your gaze away from Gurak’s. You weren’t even aware you had been staring at him. A dark elf stood in the doorway, your old friend Lilith. Her blood-red gaze shifted from Gurak to you, and a smirk slowly appeared on her face in realization.

“Am I interrupting something?” She inquired.

You quickly shook your head, setting your teacup down on the counter. Gurak did the same, giving you a wave before excusing himself.

“Is it alright if I return?” He asked.

“Of course. I’ll be here.” You waved him off and you were left with your elven companion. You decided to busy yourself with cleaning up your tea set, avoiding eye contact with Lilith. You could feel her eyes burning into your back as you moved around your counter. After a while, you sighed and decided to humor her a little. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” She sang in an overly sweet tone. “Just never took you to be the type to fall for an orc. I always thought you’d end up with a tiefling, especially with that one kink of yours.”

You almost dropped the teacup you had been holding as she spoke. You spun on your heels to confront her. “I didn’t fall for anyone!”

Lilith grinned, the expression silently mocking you as she played with one of your many display jars. “Sure, sure. Believe what you want. But I can tell when love is blooming and there’s something between the two of you.”

You snatched the jar from her, placing it on the opposite side of the counter. “I’m done talking about it. Now are you going to buy something, or did you just come here to annoy me?”

The elf rolled her eyes before going off to browse around your store for the item she had originally come to purchase. After she left with a few more words of encouragement, you were alone and decided to close the shop earlier since it seemed like no one else was going to show up.

You saw Gurak the next morning. His face lit up when he saw you behind the counter in your usual spot. Your friend’s words went through your mind and you couldn’t help but feel elated at how happy the orc was to see you.

“Gurak! I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.” You smiled at the orc as he walked up and leaned against your counter giving you a good view of his strong arms.

“Well, I couldn’t leave my favorite witch alone today.”

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks from his comment and also the fact he must’ve picked up on you staring at him. You tried to focus on the potions you were sorting, trying to keep your mind off of the handsome orc in front of you and on the labels of each bottle. Gurak reached over the counter, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, which didn’t help your already flustered state.

“I came to see if you needed any help around the shop today?” He asked. You took a moment to think it through, wondering what exactly an orc mercenary could do for your little potion shop.

“Hm, nothing in particular…” You started, before seeing the eager look on his face slowly die down causing you to feel guilty at being the cause of that. “But, I think there were some shelves you could help me tighten down?”

Gurak perked up at your suggestion and he grinned, nodding excitedly. He quickly got to work once you helped him find the toolbox you kept in the back of the store. He started by assessing all the wooden shelves in your store before also taking into account the wooden display tables you have, which had seen better days. Despite you telling the large orc he didn’t have to worry about the tables he insisted, and if there’s something you recall about orcs is their stubbornness when it came to things they had their mindset on.

You went back to casually taking inventory of your potions, reading the labels, and marking them off of your checklist while also writing down ones that needed to be refilled. Every now and then you’d glance over at Gurak, watching as his eyes were fixated on the shelves he reworked. Or the way his hard muscles flexed with each movement he made, especially since the tight gray cotton shirt he was wearing instead of his usual leather armor showed the more defined tones of his abs.

“Enjoying the view, Ms. Witch?”

You flinched as Gurak’s voice snapped you out of your daydream, causing you to almost drop the frail glass bottle you held in your hand. After letting out a sigh of relief, you shot Gurak an accusatory look.

“You shouldn’t startle people like that you’ll give them a heart attack.” You scold.

Gurak gave you a sheepish grin as he approached your counter and leaned against it. He mimicked what he had done last time, brushing a strand of hair and delicately placing it behind your ear.

The large orc chuckled as your face heated up again. “You seemed distracted, I thought it would be cute to tease you.”

“Is that why you show up to the shop so much? To tease me?” You instinctively leaned into his touch, reaching up to caress the hand against your cheek, quickly taking notice of how much larger Gurak’s hand was compared to your own.

His expression softened as he brought his face closer to yours, his gaze briefly glancing down at your lips.

“Have you not noticed?” He muttered. You lifted a brow at his question, silently urging him to continue. “I have been trying to court you since I first met you. I thought I was being forward about it.”

You stared at him with wide eyes at the realization as you thought back to the little gestures of kindness or the lingering stares you and Gurak had shared. With the way he acted, you always thought he was just being overly friendly, but that wouldn’t explain the little moments between the both of you.

“I wish you had told me sooner.” You let out a laugh, your hands finding their way to caress Gurak’s face. “If I had known I would’ve kissed you by now.”

The look on Gurak’s face turned to one of complete adoration as he relished the warmth from your hands against his cheeks. He turned to press a kiss against the palm of your hand, his gaze focused on the way you stared at him longingly. He brushed his lips against your wrist, pressing a gentle kiss into the palm of your hand before he caught himself. He stared into your eyes expectedly, waiting to see if you would push him away. You gave him a reassuring smile, making your way around the counter over to where he stood.

You jumped up, hoisting yourself against him by wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms instinctively went up to support you as he lifted you by your waist. Placing both hands on his cheeks, you pulled him into a kiss feeling the way he tensed up in surprise before relaxing. Gurak turned and sat you on the countertop deepening the kiss while you ran your hands through his hair, accidentally pulling on one of his braids. A deep moan rumbled from Gurak before he pulled away from the passionate kiss.

He chuckled, caressing your cheek while his large thumb brushed over your kiss-swollen lips. “Eager aren’t we, Miss witch?”

Letting out a pleased hum in response, you placed a chaste kiss against his thumb before gesturing toward the front door. “Lock up the front and meet me in the back.”

Gurak perked up instantly at your instruction as he placed you back onto the floor. He swiftly got to work on closing the store for the day. You sauntered to the back, quickly moving potion bottles and ingredients away to make more space for the large orc. You started to undress, untying the woven knots that kept your work apron in place. Gurak entered the backroom just as you untied the last knot. You grinned, leaning back on the cot as you outstretched your arms to him. The cotton work shirt slides down to the crevices of your arms, showing just enough of your bare breasts to cause Gurak’s breath to hitch. You chuckled at his reaction, finally allowing the simple garment to fall onto the floor with a soft thud.

“Are you going to keep me waiting longer, Gurak?” You called out to the orc, causing him to snap out of his daze.

He made quick work of his own shirt, tossing it somewhere alongside your discarded clothes. You finally got a full view of his well-built torso, every roll and chiseled perfection of his muscles reminding you of the near-perfect statues outside the mage tower.

“Like what you see, Ms.Witch?” He asked, lifting a brow in mocking curiosity.

You were about to retaliate until Gurak’s arms pinned you against the cot. “Oh, impatient aren’t we?”

He chuckled as he leaned down to press firm kisses against your neck, his tusks adding a little more pressure. “You have no idea.”

You grind your hips in an upwards motion, feeling the growing tent in his pants as he let out a deep groan. He wasted no time peppering kisses down your neck to your collarbone, into the valley of your breasts, and then taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He nipped and sucked on the sensitive nipple, using his free hand to fondle your other breast. His hand was large and calloused, easily engulfing your breast in his palm. Your hands wandered to the back of his head, your fingers tangling themselves in his dark braids as you let out quiet, breathy moans. He slowly traverses down your body, stopping at your thighs.

The teasing smile he gave you caused your cheeks to heat up as you wordlessly spread your legs for him. He hummed, pleased at the site of your arousal. His thumb rolled gentle circles into your clit, making you arch your back off of the cot slightly. Your moans encouraged him to use his free hand to trace your entrance, gathering the slick that was already starting to leak from you. He teased your sensitive folds, replacing his thumb with his tongue as he sucked your aching clit. His large finger slipped between your folds, causing you to let out a string of gasps and moans. His finger already felt like it filled out your cunt and you could only imagine how much bigger his cock would be.

He curled the finger inside of you, brushing up against the spot that caused you to roll your hips in an attempt to feel more of him. Gurak’s pleased moans sent pulses of pleasure into your clit, the sensation causing the knot in your stomach to tighten. You chanted his name over and over as you finally reached your climax, your hands tangled in his hair, grasping at the braids as you shivered from your orgasm. The finger that was inside you was replaced with his tongue as he licked up your juices, humming in contentment as the taste of you coated his tongue. Gurak pulled away, licking his lips as he gazed down at your limp form.

“Have I tired you out already?” He teased, earning him a tired scoff from you. His arousal was prominent now, his cock causing a very noticeable tent. You brought yourself up from your resting position, using your elbows to prop yourself as you tilted your head. You chuckled, spreading your legs open again fully on display for Gurak to see. The predatory look in his eyes sent an excited chill up your spine, yet you still managed to smirk up at him.

“Hmm, I don’t know, I think I still got a little in me.” You answered back sweetly. His hands firmly held the sides of your hips, pulling you closer to him while he worked his cock out of his pants. He could easily manhandle you if he wanted to, but even with how impatient he was now Gurak still tried his best to have some restraint when handling you.

His erection was finally freed from its confines, and his large cock rested against your inner thigh as he positioned himself at your entrance. His thumb wandered down to rub your slick, his brows furrowing in worry.

You leaned forward to pat his forearm. “Hey, you okay?”

“I might be too big for you.” Gurak’s gaze switched to you as a sheepish grin appeared on his face. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“I know you won’t, I trust you.” You shook your head, gyrating your hips to lightly grind against his cock. “Besides, I can take it.”

He sighed blissfully, gently leading you to lay back down as the head of his dick rubbed against your slit. He slowly pushed in, stretching you full as his cock buried itself deep in you. He waited a moment, experimentally pulling out just a little then slowly pushing back into you. He kept this slow pace up for a moment, grunting at the way your walls squeezed him.

You moaned, rolling your hips impatiently. “More….keep going.”

He chuckled, his hand fondling your cheek lovingly before he switched his movements. His hips pulled away from you leaving only the tip of his cock in you. He suddenly thrust into you, causing a pleasure-filled cry to escape your lips. Gurak kept thrusting at a fast pace, intertwining your fingers with one of his hands while the other had his thumb brushing against your lips. You opened your mouth, sucking on the finger while his cock relentlessly slammed into you.

“Mmm, look at you, taking me so well.” Gurak’s voice was wavering, his sentences being cut short every now and then by his own grunts and moans. He rolled his hips a certain way, his cock brushing against a very sensitive spot.

You let out another cry, trying your best to speak. “R-right there…Gurak, please don’t stop..!”

“Shhh. I know, beautiful, I know.” He cooed, rubbing your cheek as the tears spilled from your eyes due to the pleasure. His pace quickened again due to your request, his dick hitting you in jus the right spot. Your back arched off of the bed as the knot in your stomach snapped once more. Your orgasm caused you to shake, your walls clenching around the thick cock still thrusting into you.

Gurak’s pace became more sloppy as he moved both his hands to grip your waist. He pushed into you one last time before he came, his cum shooting deep into you. Some of it gushing out as he finally pulled out of you with a tired sigh. You were panting heavily while Gurak stared down at you. He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead as you tried to regain your strength. You felt a shift in the cot as he got up, moving around the small room before you felt his presence near you again. A warm cloth could be felt between your legs as he carefully cleaned you up, tossing the dirty rag onto the floor while he handed you the cup of water.

“Here, don’t strain yourself, love.” He muttered, helping you drink from the cup.

Gurak finally laid next to you after gently resting you against his chest. A satisfied hum came from you as he rubbed circles into your back. You started to giggle after a while, burying your face into his burly chest.

“What?” The sound of the orc’s confusion only caused your giggling fit to increase.

“I still can’t believe you thought I’d pick up on your Orcish customs. Usually us humans just ask each other out for lunch and go on from there.”

He snorted, playing with a strand of your hair. “Well Ms.Witch, despite my slip up you’ve still earned yourself a mate. Congratulations.”

You let out a loud laugh at his sarcasm, leaning up to press a loving kiss onto his lips. The way he looked at you was enough to make your heart skip a beat. “Lucky me.”

[More Monsters]

#monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster lover #orc boyfriend #monster x reader #monster smut #fem reader #monster bf #orc bf #female reader #monster x human #frightwrite

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bee-the-loser-recs · 4 months

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☼ My Wonwoo One-shot Fic Recs ☼

𖤓 Stray cats and reminders By @luvidzy 2k, soulmate au, writing on skin soulmate bond, fluff, feeding stray cats, doodler reader, cute

𖤓 Bookworm By @viastro 3.1k, high school au, library meet cute, bookworm & secret jock Wonwoo, fluff, cuties

𖤓 Home By @viastro 2k, college au, crack, fluff, fake relationship, roommates to lovers, mutual friend Mingyu, slight angst, old high school bully

𖤓 And they were newlyweds By @viastro 1.1k, newlyweds, established relationship, fluff, a bit of humour, banter in a relationship, really cute

𖤓 Love in the rain By @viastro 2.3k, college au, mutual crushes on one another, fluff, friend Mingyu, getting caught in the rain, sharing an umbrella trope, going out of the way to help

𖤓 Wanna be yours By @viastro 8.9k, college au, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, angst, slight fluff, flashbacks to the past, some humour, drunk moments, miscommunication

𖤓 Like we just met By @onlymingyus 9.8k, Jeonghan x reader x Wonwoo, interview au, old high school friends, reunited friends, smut, slight fluff, successful Jeonghan & Wonwoo, pining, high school flashbacks

𖤓 Your games suck By @onlymingyus 2.7k, gaming au, fluff, smut, Wonwoo leaning real far back in his chair discussion, somewhat bratty reader

𖤓 First snow By @onlymingyus 33k, CEO Wonwoo, assistant reader, single mum reader, falling in love, fluff, smut, pining on one another

𖤓 Homie train By @bitchlessdino 5.8k, Wonwoo|Woozi|Hoshi x reader, ex boyfriend's friends au, dick of an ex, friends to lovers (kind of), smut, slight fluff, drunk-ish sex

𖤓 Meet cute of the century By @lovelyhan 25.4k, strangers to lovers, Idol Wonwoo, animal volunteer reader, hidden identity, fluff, slight angst, opening up, meet cute, pining

𖤓 By the moon By @wonwoonlight 18k, fantasy au, werewolf au, wolf Wonwoo, mage reader, fluff, angst, reader has past trauma with incubi, kidnapping, hurt comfort, slight action

𖤓 Momentum [part 1], [part 2], and [part 3] By @wonlouvre 2.7k, 6.5k, and 6.8k, racer au, car racer Wonwoo, automotive engineer reader, fluff, slow burn, drinking

𖤓 April showers By @sluttywoozi 11.7k, photographer Wonwoo, book store owner reader, meet cute, reader has a cat, feeling a connection, fluff, smut, romance, love at first sight

𖤓 Cat and mouse By @wonusite 5.6k, bad boy au, smut, slight fluff, bad boy Wonwoo, allusions of illicit activities, mutual pining, being down horrendous, reader is in denial of her feelings, Wonwoo is soft for reader

𖤓 Into the night By @etherealyoungk 3.1k, established relationship, biker Wonwoo, terms of endearment, comfort, fluff, reader calls Wonwoo for help in the night, being stranded somewhere

#bee's recs #bee's navigation #seventeen fic rec #seventeen fic recs #seventeen recs #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo smut #wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo imagines

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earth4angels · 1 month

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𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢’𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

modern jacaerys targaryen x f!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— fluff, MAJOR FLUFF, very vanilla love making, p in v. established relationship, fiancés. aged up jace, short drabble.

jace nation tag list: @jacaerysgf @bryscorner @hxtd @smurfelle @star611 @jules420 @intheheartoftheking @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @chuuritoz @melsunshine @frombloodandfire @ambrosia-v-black @rinisfruity14 @imissyoudarling @still-jon-snow @velaryonbastard @vee-mage

Jacaerys Targaryen knew what love was, and if you asked him, he would tell you the true meaning of love.

At age of 23, Jacaerys fell in love in the most unexpected way, through a rush hour and misplaced donuts, he welcomed love with a shy smile, an apology in a form of a new batch of donuts and coffee with a heart pumping so fast he felt it was going to fall off his chest.

After two years of dating, he did not waste any time and asked you to marry him, with his heart ready to commit — not that he was not ready — he placed a ring that was once his mother’s on your ring finger and placed a deep kiss on the lips he never would get tired of savoring. The sun rained down on you that day warming your cheeks that were red due to the tears of happiness and the warmth of the sun touching your cheeks softly.

Jacaerys was the eldest of the family, he carried responsibilities as the heir of his family’s company, he took it upon himself to study and learn from his mother carefully to be well prepared to take over once his mother was ready to step down. His shoulders were always tense but nothing beat the feeling of your soft fingers massaging the bundles of stress away and your soft murmurings of praising that never failed to make him feel like he was blessed by the gods themselves.

At age 26, Jacaerys was now the perfect heir, now co-owing the business along his mother, going over case files for potential clients. His family adored you as if you were the missing puzzle piece in their chaotic family. Life could not get any better than this.

He sighed as he pulled into the driveway of the small home he bought for the two of you. His fingers ran through his hair, scratching his head to relief him from the headache he was growing into. Leaning back onto the leather seat of the car, he closed his eyes to release the stress he was in before he felt the small vibrations of his phone.

Without checking the caller ID, he answered sleepily, “Jacaerys speaking..”

Your voice welcomed him with open arms and warmth, the tone of your voice sounded cheeky, playful bringing a smile to his face, “Well, Mr. Jacaerys, are you planning to come inside or should I grab a blanket for you since you want to sleep in the car?”

He blinked the drowsiness away as he leaned up to look outside the window, there you stood, in one of his shirts and what seemed panties? His fingers tightened the hold on his phone at the imagination of things he would do to you, the love he would show you leaving you completely full of his affection.

“Well, I don’t know. That’s if my future wife wants to join me for a car nap then I am open for blankets and pillows,” he laughed softly when he saw you roll your eyes hearing his playful banter.

“Get inside baby… it’s cold and I cooked dinner unless you want me to feed it to Vermax.”

Jacaerys grabbed his bag, and keys, shutting the door and locking it — he ran towards you, you squealed when he picked you up in his arms, spinning you softly before placing a kiss on your forehead, then your cheeks, and finally having a taste at your lips.

You moaned softly, running your fingers into the length of his curls, you felt his hold on your waist tightening creating a gentle trail of goosebumps down your body.

You had to pull away before things got more serious, chuckling when Jacaerys whined for another kiss. You pecked his lips softly, “Easy my dragon. You stink of coffee and a ton of legal work, go shower i’ll serve dinner.”

“Don’t want to, I want to stay here,” he whined as he tightened his hold, placing his head into the tiny gap between your shoulder and neck. You laughed again, placing a kiss on his shoulder.

“Jace…”

He moaned in disappointment, “Okay fine but don’t think I’ll let you escape later,” he released his hold from her as he took her hand and walked into the space he had created with you, welcoming him with scents of lavender and spice. He was home.

“I’ll never miss out on cuddles unless you’re going to attack me with tickling then that’s where i’ll command you to sleep in the sofa with Vermax,” you playfully said watching him look at you with betrayal in his eyes, you smirked sticking out your tongue at him.

“Very rude my love…”

As if he heard his father, Vermax ran down the stairs in small barks of welcome, jumping around Jacaerys’ legs for any chance of affection.

Jacaerys smiled widely, placing his things by the counter close to the door, he bent down to hold his small spotted husky. “Hello to you too Vermax.”

You took the opportunity to walk into the kitchen, heating the food you heart full with so much love as you heard your fiancée baby your furry child. As you were preparing a lemonade, Vermax was by your feet now, barking in happy yaps. You laughed at his silly antics, grabbing a treat by the counter, giving it to the waiting furry child of yours.

“I wonder if this is how life will be when we have kids”

You looked up at your fiancé who was watching silently by the doorway, his arms crossed across his chest, his face soft, resting with a smile on his face. Your stomach fluttered, feeling as if there were tiny butterflies.

“I’d love that,” you answered, your cheeks turning red again looking down at what you were doing to avoid looking at him, even after years of dating, Jacaerys still made you feel as if you were just meeting him all over again.

He hummed, his own smile mirroring yours, instead his held so much devotion and love, “It shall be then.”

You cleared your throat to move pass the sexual tension that was growing, you worried for Jacaerys as you knew he hadn’t ate anything, “Go shower.”

Jacaerys approached you, grabbing both of your hands and placing a kiss on every finger before he lingered on the ring he had given you, “I can’t wait to call you my wife,”

Your legs trembled a little, cheeks still ablaze, you pushed your head to his chest to hide your shyness, whining you replied, “Jace..”

Jacaerys loved to tease you, to make those cheeks turn a blossom pink was like a reward for him, you were all his, and he couldn’t ever get over that fact. In four more months, you were officially going to be his forever and that made him the happiest man in the planet.

He placed a kiss on your lips again, his hands on your chin to pull you closer, he sighed into your mouth feeling at peace.

“I’ll be quick.”

Your eyes fluttered, your fingers holding his biceps, as if in a daze you mumbled a soft “uh huh.”

He laughed again, you were just too cute for your own good.

—

To Jacaerys, one of his favorite things in the world was to hold you in his arms every night after dinner. You always waited for him, never caring for the late hours he came home, you were always there welcoming him with warm kisses, and a hug that melted him to the floor every time.

He was leaning on your lap, his head in between your breasts as his arms wrapped around your torso, both of you deciding on a movie after dinner, Vermax laid by the couch, his breaths coming out in small winds. You truly couldn’t ask for anything more than this.

Your fingers traces the curls of his hair, scratching his head feeling Jacaerys sigh in relief, his arms tightening around you, you decided it was late now.

“Jace…”

He moved slightly but never did he open his eyes, “Hm?”

“Let’s go to bed”

He moved then, his eyes drooping with sleep, he turned off the tv, then he pulled you up, bending down to gather you in his arms in bridal style. You jolted with surprise letting out a small yelp, he only moved his head closer to you, resting it on yours as he walked to your shared bedroom in silence. You tightened your hold around his neck, smelling the natural scent of your soon to be husband. He smelled of fresh laundry, a hint of wine and teakwood. You sighed feeling comfort in his arms.

That’s night as you helped him take off his shirt, leaving him in his boxers you leaned into his chest tracing the light freckles on his skin, placing a kiss on every single one you found. You heard him shake, his breaths coming out in gasps.

“I love you Jace,” you said as you kissed up his chin, your lips mapping out a trail only you knew that would lead him begging for more.

He grabbed you then, bringing you closer, his eyes that were once drowsy was now filled with lust and love. And as he placed a finger by your lip, where you were bold enough to lightly suck on it he shuddered, his eyes closed.

You leaned up again, capturing his lips again, that’s where you felt the softness of his love on your lips, with every kiss he left a promise.

“I love you more than my life,” he said, your eyes filling with tears that matched his. Soon, you’ll start a life together, you will officially take his name and walk by his side as his lifetime partner and that made you fill up with pride.

You guided him to take off your shirt, his hands trembling as were yours, he has seen you naked more than once but every time was a knock hard on the chest that left him breathless, so when he saw you completely nude under his shirt he couldn’t help but lean forward to mark his territory.

And as he had one perky bud in his mouth, you held him in your hand, softly jerking him feeling him cry out, your name falling from his lips in shaky whispers. But, love, oh love with Jacaerys, was something you would never trade for anything in the world.

Sinking down onto his length, your folds welcoming him like they knew who it belonged to, both of you chest to chest, hands wrapped in each other as breaths hit both of your faces in hot touches… you declared your love for each other once more.

Jacaerys felt the world spin, he held onto you as you sunk into him once more, his heart beating fast against his chest, his eyes beaming with non stop tears for the love he felt for you, he whimpered into your shoulder, nibbling when the pace you set out got faster.

“I love you Jace, you will always be the owner of my heart,” you choked out, holding onto his shoulder with one hand as the other held a chunk of his curls which had him rolling his eyes back at the stimulation.

He rolled over to place you on the bed, his elbows on either side of your head, and with every desperate need to have you screaming his name, he guided his cock deep into you, sweat dripping from his forehead landing on your cheeks like soft trinkets of rain.

You gasped out when he hit the sweetness of your nerves, and he knew that as you pressed yourself closer to him, your head thrown back onto the pillow as your mouth opened in silent screams.

“My girl. My beautiful wife, the mother of my children, my beautiful angel, come on my love…” Jacaerys never felt so close to the skies than when he was with you, deep inside you, feeling every stretch and pull and to the seven, he felt the luckiest to be blessed with you.

You moaned his name in a shuddered breaths, your tears sliding down your cheeks by how loved and beautiful you felt. Jacaerys watched you, his eyes gathering every detail of your face as you came undone around him. He vowed that he would never take you for granted, for you were the beautiful blessing that grazed his life.

As you leaned up to kiss him, he choked out another vow of love, his fingers searching for yours and when he found them, he held onto them, his eyes closing as he saw a flash of white cover his vision, the stimulation leaving him breathless, shaking.

“I truly can’t wait to marry you,” he whispered into your breasts close to your heart, you let out a breathless laugh, he smiled when he heard your heart pick up.

“I can’t wait to be your wife,” you kissed his head, feeling the soft nudge from his lips where he was now smiling widely.

—

When morning came, kissing the softness of your skin, welcoming you for a new day. You sighed softly feeling yourself warm far to your liking, as you moved to get up to make breakfast, tight arms pulled you back.

Jacaerys had you locked in a bear hug, he was deep in his sleep, however out of instinct he always reminded you where you belonged.

You moved slightly again, careful to not wake him, but you stopped when you heard a whine and then came his mumbling, “Stay… don’t get up.”

You let out a little laugh at his attempt to keep you in bed, snuggling into you closer, his lips leaving kisses on your bare shoulder, he was almost acting like a cat. You never wanted to erase this image from your brain.

Thinking breakfast can wait for a little longer, you twisted to face him where you found a sleepy smile on his face, his eyes were still closed but it was as if he knew, he had won. He wrapped his arms around you once more, taking you into his chest. You placed a kiss on his lips before snuggling into his chest again, finding sleep welcome you once again in the arms of your lover.

If you asked Jacaerys what love was, he would list the many things he done with you that explained why love was the most beautiful and powerful feeling in the world.

#𓇼 nattie's works #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys valaryon x reader #hotd jacaerys #hotd x y/n #hotd imagine #modern!jace

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thirteenducks · 11 months

Text

smoke and wine

(diluc x fem!reader) [suggestive, but SFW]

༻❁༺ content: fem!reader (reader wears a dress and is referred to as 'her'), some suggestive content, no established relationship

༻❁༺ word count: ~4.7k

༻❁༺ tags: self indulgent stormfic, adelinde best mother figure AND wingwoman, flustered diluc supremacy, reader does not want to cause trouble for diluc, diluc desperately wants reader to cause trouble for him, diluc wears boxer briefs because i said so, rampant use of ellipses

༻❁༺ author's note: i am back to offer you this with my hands outstretched before i vanish into the void for another six months :/ regardless, thank you for reading! <33 this fic was inspired by this lovely art by @mmmairon https://www.tumblr.com/mmmairon/733185437964926976/hi-mairon-i-love-the-self-insert-comfort-you-did?source=share please go check it out!

Diluc is a simple man. If there's something he can provide, he'll go out of his way to do it. And if that means allowing you to stay at his home for the night during a fierce storm, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort.

Before today, you had considered yourself rather proficient in predicting the weather for your forays into the Mondstadt hills. Experience had given you somewhat of a sixth sense for which afternoons would yield sunny skies and which would leave you huddled under a tree during a downpour.

This storm, however, had truly come out of nowhere.

When your feet finally find the steps of the vineyard path ahead of you, you’re already too drenched to bother running from the rain. Your shoes, unfit for travel through the rain-soaked countryside, leave puddles behind everywhere you step; your dress is so soaked through that it must leave nothing to the imagination.

You shiver, thanking Barbatos that you seem to be the only unfortunate traveler caught in this downpour. At least the grates of the grapevines above you give you some form of cover from the lashing sheets of rain.

Through the raindrops in your eyes, you gaze at the herbs in your basket, their delicate leaves sodden and dripping. Once the storm has passed, and you've returned home, you doubt they will be much worth keeping. So much for freshly-gathered, you lament.

Distracted by your mournful predictions, you hardly notice the dirt beneath your feet has turned to stone and you’re suddenly before the imposing building that dominates the landscape. Above you, lanterns on posts swing wildly in the wind, illuminating the grand wooden door of Dawn Winery.

As you huddle beneath the scant protection of the balcony above, poised to knock, you’re inevitably reminded of the only other time you’d encountered the owner of this estate.

In the many months since, you’d learned which places to avoid in the Mondstadt countryside due to high monster traffic. That morning, however, the abyss mage had appeared out of nowhere in the sunny meadow of sweet flowers, leering at you and your lack of a weapon. You had barely gathered the presence of mind to drop what you were holding and run when the noise of boots, fast approaching, came from behind you. In another second, a blur of red and black had sped by and a gloved hand was pushing you down to the ground. Overhead, a blast of ice meant for your heart had split the sky above you instead.

Before you could regain your wits, the horrible sound of what you could only imagine were the monster’s last words tore through the air and flames, red and deep orange, surrounded you. The blue of the sky above you was ringed with fire.

Pushing yourself up by your elbows, you had scrambled to your feet, fear shooting through you like lightning as the flames licked higher and hotter around your boots -

And then they were gone, extinguished in an instant. Your breaths coming fast and shallow, you had inspected yourself for injuries and found nothing amiss but a few singed pieces of hair.

The gloved hand had appeared again in your field of vision, hovering hesitantly near your shoulder.

“Are you alright? That attack didn’t hit you, did it?”

The voice was low and unfamiliar, and you had followed the sound until your eyes caught a mane of red hair in a sea of black. He smelled like smoke; you could see it emanating off the massive sword he held in his other hand.

“I’m not hurt, thank you. I had no idea this area wasn’t safe...” You murmured, gazing at the now-scorched patch of flowers you had stood so peacefully in a moment before. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, sir.” You offered your hand and name in introduction, and he had taken both with a gentle grace. His questioning eyes alighted on your belongings, dress, and hair before returning to your face.

“Please, call me Diluc. Of Dawn Winery,” he answers, anticipating your question. “I’m the one who should apologize. This one -” he glances down at the ground in distaste, where a few shining leaves are all that is left of the abyss mage - “got away from me last night, and I’ve been chasing it down ever since. Really, it’s my fault.”

You duck your head in gratitude. “Thank you regardless, Diluc. I’ll make sure to avoid this area in the future...” You trail off sadly. This had been the best hill in the area to collect sweet flowers...

His face had changed a bit at your vow, so quickly you might have imagined it, before his handsome features returned to an unreadable expression. The exchange had not lasted long past that point.

“Keep yourself safe,” were his brief parting words, leaving you with a nod before starting at a brisk pace toward the building in the distance.

And now that same building is before you once more. Drawing your bag closer to you in trepidation, you knock, the sound barely reaching your ears over the roar of thunder overhead.

You don’t have to wait long in the harsh wind before the giant door swings open and you’re face to face with the same man from all those months ago, staring at you with his mouth slightly parted. You blink at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to say, until a woman’s soft voice calls from behind him in the doorway.

“Master Diluc? Is there someone out there?”

A middle-aged woman with a kind expression peers over Diluc’s shoulder at you and gasps.

“Master Diluc! What are you doing, keeping her out here in all this rain?” she chides, pushing Diluc’s shoulder to punctuate her sentence, and he blinks as if coming out of a trance. He steps out of the doorway and allows the woman to grab you gently by the hand and lead you into the warm, carpeted foyer. The great door swings shut behind you with a soft thud and you allow yourself an exhale of relief at being out of the storm, if only for a few minutes.

“Goodness, you’re soaked through.” The woman, who wears a maid’s uniform, putters around you, taking your belongings from your grasp and hanging them on a stand next to the door. As she circles you, murmuring with concern, you take the opportunity to explain yourself.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, ma’am, I was just gathering herbs near Stone Gate when the downpour started...” You lock eyes with Diluc, who has not said a word yet. Your resolve wavers, but a drop of water cascading down your back causes you to shiver and you remember your situation. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I impose upon you until the worst of the storm passes?” Your teeth chatter a bit as a draft catches your soaked clothing. “I promise I won’t make too much trouble for -”

You’re cut off by the sensation of something large and warm surrounding you. It smells of smoke and wine and you look up in surprise to see Diluc, now bare to the arm, settling his overcoat on your shoulders. A light shade of pink dusts his cheekbones.

“This storm isn’t likely to pass before tomorrow morning at the earliest,” he rumbles, avoiding your eyes. “Adelinde, please tell Moco and Hillie to prepare a bath and fresh sheets in the downstairs guest room.”

The warm timbre of his voice is tinged with something you can’t identify. Before you can protest, the woman, who must be Adelinde, gives him a nod. She curtsies to you with a smile and takes her leave.

Now standing alone with Diluc, you hurriedly voice your objections and promise to be on your way after you dry off a bit and perhaps borrow an umbrella. The man in front of you, however, refuses to acquiesce.

“You’ll at least let Adelinde feed you dinner, won’t you? It’s quite late already,” he remarks, glancing out the bay window at the darkened sky. “Have you eaten?”

At your dissenting response, he nods as if all is settled. You stare down at your shoes in mingled embarrassment and relief, watching the pools of water sink into the rich carpet.

Diluc clears his throat and moves his hand to hover behind the small of your back as he walks towards the fireplace. “Please, wait here for Adelinde to return. I’ll speak to her about getting you some dry clothes to wear for the night,” he says, gesturing to the couch in front of the fire.

You grimace as you sit, the damp fabric of your dress sticking to you and probably ruining the plush velvet of the sofa. Not to mention Diluc’s coat...

Before you can dwell too long on that, Adelinde reappears with a steaming cup of tea that she sets in front of you. She appears to be in conversation with Diluc about something across the table as you sip your tea, feeling the warmth of the fire seep into your bones.

“It’s awful luck that everything had to be taken in from the clotheslines when it started to rain,” she sighs. “There’s not a dry piece of women’s clothing in the house, I’m afraid.”

Diluc hums in contemplation. “I suppose mine will have to do, then. As long as it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, of course...” He trails off as he turns to you, his cheeks pink again.

You laugh a bit, good humor returning to your body as the warmth does. “I’ll take any clothing you have to offer, Adelinde. Truly, thank you.”

She smiles, and before you can say anything else, Diluc has gotten to his feet and is already halfway up the stairs. Your eyes follow him as he goes, afraid you’ve said something wrong, but Adelinde just laughs and gestures for you to stand.

“Don’t mind him. The young master’s always that straightforward. Let’s get you into a warm bath, hm?” She starts for the hallway at a brisk pace, ignoring your concerns about the water you’re tracking across the floor.

As the head maid leads you to the guest room, Diluc stands in his own quarters, staring at his bureau with a look of deliberation that a complex military maneuver might inspire. All around him, various pieces of clothing lay rejected. He’s glaring daggers at his pants drawer, which he now realizes contains only neatly folded black slacks and pairs of underwear.

Do I really only wear slacks and boxer briefs?

That’s a question for another day. For now, he lays out his options.

He can’t... he can’t offer you his underwear to wear. That’s out of the question. Few things could be less appropriate to lend to a guest, let alone a pretty...

He shakes his head. His face is burning just thinking about it.

But wouldn’t you be uncomfortable in dress pants? They’d hardly fit you, anyways, so you might have to wear a belt as well just to keep them up... And could you really sleep in them? You’d probably end up shedding them, right?

He shakes his head again before he can go any further with that... dangerous thought.

He huffs. This is going nowhere. He’ll have to bring them both to Adelinde and see what she has to say, he thinks as he descends the staircase with a stack of clothes in hand.

Meanwhile, you stand with Adelinde in the most lavish guest bedroom you’ve ever set foot in. The bedspread, softer than a lamb as you run your hand over it, matches the curtains of the four-poster bed it rests on and the wall behind it. She opens the door to the attached bathroom, where a steaming claw-foot tub stands in the center. The aroma coming from it is like that of the lampgrass you had been collecting that afternoon before the storm hit, and it draws you to it like a moth to flame.

Adelinde curtsies to you and asks you to simply leave your wet clothes by the door and she’ll send someone to pick them up and deliver dry clothes in a bit. With that, she shuts the bedroom door behind you and leaves you to disrobe in the sweet-smelling bathroom.

After so long with your soaked garments clinging to you, peeling them off feels incredible. The water is the perfect temperature as you slide into it, feeling the stress of the afternoon melt away from your shoulders. The soaps next to the bath are thick and luxurious, perfuming the air with a thousand faint floral scents.

You don’t know how long you sit there, half-awake and submerged to the nose in the sweet-smelling water, until a knock at the bedroom door brings you back to reality.

Thinking it to be Adelinde or another maid, you straighten up and stretch your arms. You’d rather not get up and let her in yourself, so you merely call out your permission to let herself in. After all, the water’s so nice, and you don’t have anything to cover yourself with but a towel, anyways.

The door opens quietly and a heavy step can be heard entering the bedroom and shuffling around a bit until it suddenly pauses.

That’s odd. “Adelinde?” you call, rising a bit in the water to peek into the bedroom through the open door. No answer comes.

Furrowing your brow, you move to get out of the tub when the panicked voice of a man rings through the room.

“Wait! Wait, please... Archons, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you were - the door is - ”

It’s Diluc. He sounds more flustered than you thought was possible of such a stoic man.

“I just came to drop these off,” he continues, voice discomposed, and there’s a sound of something being placed on a chair. “Please forget this happened. I- I apologize a thousand times. I’ll, um, wait outside - please, forgive me... I’m leaving now, I swear.”

And with that, the bedroom door closes with a thunk. You’re left frozen, your hands on the rim of the tub, your face a fetching shade of scarlet.

Diluc, on the opposite side of the door, is in no better shape. Not only had he walked in on you while you were- not only had he imposed upon you, but he had completely forgotten his objective of having Adelinde choose your clothing. Which meant, of course, that you were about to walk out of the bath and be faced with an odd selection of things to clothe yourself with.

It’s not like he can go back in and tell you it’s a mistake, though. Diluc sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, willing his heart rate to go down. Idiot. He’s an idiot.

Since the least he can do now is protect you from any further embarrassment, he thinks, he takes up a guard position outside your bedroom door.

It helps to know that at least it’s just him and the maids in the house, so you have no one else to worry about. It doesn’t help to know that you’re currently bare and covered in soap a scant twenty feet from him.

He buries his head in his hands again.

Meanwhile, you’ve removed yourself from the tub and are drying off while waiting for your pulse to return to normal. The towel in your hands is probably the fluffiest thing you’ve ever touched, yet it barely registers in your mind at the moment.

You weigh the ethics of telling Adelinde you’ve suddenly fallen violently ill and cannot come to dinner, but eventually you’ve gathered yourself enough to inspect the clothing Diluc brought you. There’s a black dress shirt, which is softer against your skin than it first looked as you button it up to your collarbone. Like his coat, it too carried a familiar fragrance of smoke and wine.

Turning to the rest of the stack, you’re confused to see a pair of dress pants and a pair of men’s... underwear?

They also smell like him… you think, as you pull them on.

Diluc, still fighting a blush, is leaning against the wall outside your door when Adelinde finds him. A hurried conversation ensues that you don’t catch much of from inside, but it’s clear enough that Adelinde is laughing at her master’s expense.

She knocks, asking if you’re dressed, and waits for your affirmation before she enters. You hold up the slacks to her, a question on your lips, but the head maid puts her hand on yours before you say a word.

“You don’t have to wear those unless you want to. I know they’re far from the most comfortable pants in the world. Besides, it’s only Master Diluc and us maids here,” she assures you. “You have nothing to worry about, dear. It’s up to you.” You return her smile and fold the slacks, passing them to her waiting hand. “Why don’t you come sit by the fire while I set the table?”

Thus assured, you leave the safety of the guest bedroom in only Diluc’s shirt and boxer briefs. Outside, the lord of the manor himself is standing in the hallway with a look of contrition on his face.

He turns at the sound of the door and his eyes meet yours.

It’s fatal. You offer him a smile, hoping to pretend the earlier situation never happened, but you’re met instead with a blank stare that makes you falter. Was he… angry?

Archons, did he think you had let him into your room on purpose while you were undressed? The thought sends you spiraling. This was bad. You have to fix this. You fiddle with the hem of the dress shirt and prepare to apologize.

Across from you, Diluc is fighting an uphill battle with his self control to keep his eyes on yours as you stand before him in only his underwear.

You were supposed to be wearing pants. Not… fuck, you’re staring at him like he has three heads. He has to say something. He has to set your mind at ease. He has to be a gentleman.

Think of Varka. Think of Seamus Pegg. Think of fucking Barbatos. For the love of Celestia do not think of anything else. Now SAY something.

“...How was your bath?”

You blink. “It was… lovely, thank you.”

DO NOT THINK OF HER IN THE BATH.

By the grace of whatever archons are watching over him, Diluc manages to carry a stilted conversation with you in which he apologizes profusely for his behavior earlier.

You do your best to reassure him that it was an honest mistake and no harm was done (except to your heart, but you’d hardly admit that). You soon find that he’s also asking your pardon for the “inappropriate” selection of clothes he brought you, however.

“Please, don’t apologize. They’re very comfortable.” You smile at him and Diluc feels his heart skip far too many beats. “Thank you again for your kindness, Diluc.” Archons, he loves the way you say his name. You’ll kill him at this rate.

Soon he’s falling into step behind you as Adelinde leads you into the dining room and seats you by the fire with a blanket. Satisfied that you’re comfortable, he turns and prepares to return to his study for the evening.

Before he can, though, he’s arrested by your voice, innocently asking if he wouldn’t be joining you for dinner.

“I’m afraid I have… work to attend to,” he murmurs, glancing up to his office. “My apologies. I hope you enjoy- ow, Adelinde -”

The maid in question has two fingers wrapped around Diluc’s ear and is wearing a look of exasperation as she tugs on it, ignoring his words of protest. In a voice that suggests this is a common occurrence, she strongly forbids him from doing any more work tonight.

“Is it not the job of the master of the manor to keep his guests company?”

“Adelinde...”

“Master Diluc.”

He sighs, meeting your eyes with a sheepish look. “It appears that I’ll be joining you after all.”

With that, he settles himself in the armchair adjoining your couch, allowing his large frame to relax into it. A pleasant quiet descends as you watch the fire, listening to the maids readying the meal in the kitchen and the storm as it continues to rage outside.

You’re brought out of your reverie by Diluc’s voice, softer than you’ve yet heard it.

“May I ask how you found yourself out in the downpour this afternoon?”

You smile. “For the same reason I was out the first time we met.” He nods in recognition, glancing at the gathering bag and basket that still hang by the door to the winery.

“So, you’re a botanist, then? Or maybe an herbalist?”

The two of you continue this way, Diluc asking you questions about yourself in a low voice, and you answering them in the same soft tone. You lose track of time in the easy back-and-forth.

After what feels like only a few minutes, a maid alerts you that dinner is ready; you rise and stretch, the blanket falling away from where it covers your bare legs. Diluc pointedly looks away, but you’re too distracted by the lovely smells coming from the table behind you to pay him any mind.

Walking ahead of you, Diluc draws out the seat adjacent to the head of the table and waits for you to sit before taking his own seat. The maids have been busy: a pot of tea, a bottle of sparkling wine, plates of roast beef, green beans, buttered potatoes, and stuffing, a tray of candied pecans, an apple tart, and a myriad of smaller dishes all line the ornate table. For a moment, you’re too overwhelmed to take a portion of anything.

Fortunately, Adelinde appears beside you and asks which and how much of each dish you would like, and soon your plate is as full as it can be.

For a while, the two of you sit in comfortable silence as you eat. The food is beyond reproach. Either the maids and Adelinde have pulled out all the stops tonight for you, or wealthy estate owners eat like this every night. You’re not sure which makes you feel more out of place, but the food is too delicious and you’re too tired to dwell on such things now.

Periodically, Diluc asks how you’re liking a certain dish or if you would like more of what you’re drinking. As the maids top off your glass of wine and you begin to feel the day catch up with you, however, your responses to Diluc get slower and shorter until you can barely keep your eyes open.

Through your lowered lids, you’re graced with the sight of a rare smile as the man next to you takes you in. He stands, offering you an ungloved hand in a silent offer to escort you to your room. You’re too exhausted to notice the color that comes to his face when you gladly take it and get to your stumbling feet.

By the time you’ve reached the door to your room, you’re leaning more on him than you are on your own legs. Offering Diluc a drowsy smile, you bow a little and thank him once again. He returns it in kind, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little bit. He’s never looked more handsome.

“Have a restful night. With any luck, the storm will abate by morning. Please, if there’s anything else I can do, don’t hesitate to come ask me.”

And with that, he leaves you to the plush sheets of the guest room. You’re asleep almost before your head hits the pillow.

You dream of smoke and wine.

In the small hours of the morning, you awake to a cold draft that makes you shiver and a mind fuzzy from sleep. You try in vain to return to sleep, the soft silk sheets beckoning to you, but a peal of thunder seems to shake the house every time you close your eyes.

Sighing, you sit up and rub your eyes. It’s almost pitch black in the room; the sun won’t rise for several hours yet.

Maybe you could make yourself a cup of tea? You shiver a bit, drawing the covers tighter around you. Sitting by the fire doesn’t sound bad, either.

Your feet are quiet on the carpeted floor as you gently open your bedroom door and step into the hallway. Sure enough, there’s a flickering light from the main room; the fire must be still alive in the grate.

You gather the blanket around you and hurry towards the warmth, only to stop short at the silhouette of a figure sitting where you were earlier. You take another tentative step onto the floorboards, but a creak gives you away. The figure stiffens and turns to face you.

Diluc’s face and frame relaxes when he sees you, but there is still a hint of worry in his tone when he asks, “Is there something wrong? Are you warm enough in your room?”

You nod, stepping gingerly around the couch to sit next to him. He shifts a little to give you more space as you pull your legs up beside you. “Everything’s fine. I just went to bed a little too early,” you assure him. “Could I trouble you to let me into the kitchen? I’d like to make myself a cup of tea, if it’s alright.”

“Please, allow me,” he murmurs, producing a pot and a second cup from the table next to him, where he was apparently enjoying one himself.

You sip it gratefully, allowing the taste to linger in your mouth. “May I ask why the esteemed Master Diluc is still awake at this hour?”

He smiles a bit at that and mentions that he never sleeps well during storms.

The two of you watch the flames as you sip your tea, listening to the patter of rain on the roof. Even at this hour, the fire is still going strong. A thought strikes you and you turn to Diluc’s lap.

Sure enough, his vision is glowing, pulsing in a gentle bump-bump pattern that you’ve heard matches the wielder’s heartbeat. It relaxes you to see it so steady and dependable.

Before long, the warmth of the fire and the tea have lulled you back soundly to sleep.

For the first time today, Diluc allows his gaze to rake over you unhindered.

You, asleep on his couch in his manor. Smelling like him. Dressed in his shirt and underwear.

In only his shirt and underwear, the least helpful part of his brain reminds him, and he has to stare at the fire for a while to curb that train of thought. It’s difficult when his gaze keeps flickering back to you anyway.

He counts himself lucky you’re not awake to see how the fire in the grate has grown in size and intensity, or how the vision on his hip is flickering in a wild bmp-bmp-bmp.

After reciting everything he knows of Mondstadtian foreign policy in his head a few times, he’s able to tone down the blush on his face enough to be manageable. As for the familiar, tight ache in his pants, he regards it as a lost cause. For now.

Diluc stands, stretching his arms with a quiet groan before turning to your sleeping form. He gently scoops you up into strong arms and wraps you tighter in the blanket you’re still clinging to, careful not to wake you. As he begins the slow walk to your doorway, a small smile adorns his face.

Upon ducking into your room, careful not to hit your legs against the doorway, he frowns. It’s much colder here than it was in the living room. He’ll have to do something about that.

As he places you under the covers, he unclips the vision from his thigh and folds it into your hand, where it thrums with a gentle rhythm . You drift awake for a moment, recognizing the red mane that hangs over your chest as Diluc tucks in the blanket around you.

Seeing your eyes flicker, he calls your name gently. “Are you comfortable?” You nod with a smile that hurts his heart in the best way.

“Thank you, Diluc,” you murmur blearily, and he laughs a bit. You have just enough consciousness left to decide it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard as you slip back under the blanket of sleep.

That night, as the storm continues to rage outside his bedroom windows, Diluc sleeps better than he has in a long time. Downstairs, his vision pulses in your hand to his steady heartbeat.

You dream of warmth.

#diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x fem!reader #fem!reader #genshin x reader #flustered dilu.......#pls let me live at the winery i swear i'll be good #dilucposting

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iliketangerines · 3 months

Note

Reader is sympathetic to Rain/Zeffeero and sneaks him out of Sun Do, and they just barely make it. Once they get somewhere safe, Rain is grateful for her help and is still high on the adrenaline of nearly getting captured so they FUCK.

the rush

a/n: i need more rain content NEOW

pairing: rain x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), public sex (you're in the forest)

you walk past the sleeping guards, thankful that the sleeping potion you had concocted had worked, and you grab the chain of keys off of the wall and walk through the hallways to find Rain

the potions on your belt clink quietly together as you search through the cells, trying to pose as a visitor to the other prisoners sitting in their dorms

a flash of purple crosses your eyes, and you turn to find Rain laying in his bed, turned away from the bars and covered in his signature deep purple cloak

tapping against the bars of the cells gently with the keys, he turns around and nearly falls out of the bed when he sees you standing outside of the door

he scrambles to his feet and holds onto the metal bars, asking you what you were doing there, and you say that you’re here to release him, that you know he feels guilty for his crimes but that he shouldn’t have to rot away for life in a cell

Rain sighs and says that he should, he ended so many lives, so many innocent ones and children who had no part in the slavery of Seido

you glare at him and say that Empress Mileena should at least give him the chance to redeem himself, but since she isn’t, you’re breaking him out of here

the key slides into place, and it clicks open quietly, the hinges squeak loudly, rusted from disuse, and you gesture for Rain to step out

hesitantly, he steps out, as if unsure if he should really be free, and you roll your eyes and grab onto his hand, walking to the contraband room to find his mage staff

sparing a glance to the sleeping guards and then the time, you only have a minute or two to find the staff before the shift changes

you push the door open and light the torches in the room and search for his staff easily, propped up against the wall unable to fit on the shelf and bins

Rain takes it, smiling at you and whispering his thanks, and you say that it’s no problem and that the two of you should probably start to get a move on

pulling the door open, you come face to face with the new shift inspecting the sleeping guards and Rain, the convicted criminal, standing behind you

your hands hurriedly grabs a flash, and you throw it by their feet, the glass shattering and causing a cloud of gas to burst and plume about them

once again, you grab onto Rain’s hand and pull him along, running through the halls and panting hard, and he yells to you what would happen to them

you shout back it was simply a potion to make gas, great for disappearing acts, and you turn the corner up the stairs and out of the secret passageway through the castle

the sound of rumbling feet echo and thunder on all sides of you as all parts of the guard are engaged to find you and Rain

your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you crouch and crawl through the small passageway, Rain’s labored breathing echoing with yours in the cramped hallway

but soon enough you thump into something hard, and your fingers trace around the edges until you find the latch and push it open

light burns your eyes, and you squint and slowly step out of the hallway, Rain following quickly behind and taking in deep breaths of the fresh air

you grab onto his arm and tell him to run, that the both of you aren’t out of the woods quite yet, and your feet pound along the forest floor

it feels like forever, breath burning in your legs and muscles screaming at you for a break, but you reach a river and finally slow down, gasping for air

Rain doesn’t seem much better, hunched over with his hands on his knees as he tries to calm down his beating heart

you lean against the tree, staring up into the dappled sunlight to calm down, and Rain leans against the tree next to you, eyes closed and chest heaving up and down

he looks at you and nudges your shoulder, thanking you for saving him, and you breathlessly wave him off, saying that he wouldn’t done the same

the both of you continue staring at each other, panting into the air and faces just a few inches away from each other

you don’t know what come over you, perhaps it was the excitement of the jail break or the happiness at finally seeing Rain again after not seeing him for weeks, but you grab onto the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss

it’s messy, breathless, and nothing romantic as you smash your face into his, but he doesn’t seem to care for the force either and instead wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in closer

the both of you tumble down to the ground as your feet tangle with each other, but neither of you can care, adrenaline dulling the pain and heightening the neediness in your body

your hands tear at his clothing and his hands unbuckle your belt from your body, ripping at the buttons holding your top together

his lips never leave yours, moving as if he would never get the chance to kiss you again, and he only parts to throw off his shirt

and then he’s back on you, chest pressing flush into yours as your legs wrap around his waist, and Rain groans as he grinds his cock into your heat

you groan into his mouth, scratching your nails into his back, and Rain moves his mouth down to bite into the soft flesh of your neck

he licks over the wound with his tongue and then kisses a hickey into your neck, and you tilt your head back as he continues to roll his hips against yours

it’s a delicious friction, and you can feel your pussy drool at the feeling and stain your pants, making you claw at his back and tell him to hurry up

Rain seems to have the same thought, sitting up on his knees to pull his pants off, and you unwrap your legs from him to do the same

his cock stands proudly, thick and heavy as it slaps against his stomach, and he doesn’t waste a second, crawling in between your legs and kissing at your neck again

he places his forearms down onto the grass, keeping him balanced above you as he leans down to kiss your neck, and you bring a hand up his back and bury it into his hair, untying it from the loose ponytail

your hands comb through his hair and scratch at the scalp as he grinds his cock into you, the tip catching on your sensitive clit and spreading your want along the length of him

his head comes up to stare into yours, lip swollen and shines with spit as he stares up at you in adoration, and you can only stare at him as the finally sputters of adrenaline leave you

but for some reason, even as your head clears, you still want him, you still need him, and he seems to feel the same as he presses his forehead against yours

the both of your close your eyes and simply bask in the warmth of the sun and each other’s bodies, and he asks in a hushed voice if you still want to do this

you snort and answer back teasingly, saying that you wouldn’t have another man and that he’s stuck with you and your potions

Rain laughs and asks if he can kiss you, lips just one breath away from taking yours, and you roll your eyes and tell him to fuck you already

he lets out a laugh at your straight-forwardness and moves one of his hands down to grip his cock and line himself up with you

as his lips press to yours, slow and warm, he slowly pushes into you, his cock stretching you out deliciously and causing your grip on him to tighten

you groan and pull him in closer to you, and he whispers to you to breathe and that he’ll take it slow, he’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for him next time

smirking up at him, you make fun of him, saying that he’s already so confident that he can bed you a second time, and he retaliates by thrusting forward and bottoming out inside of you

it causes you to gasp and scratch your nails into his back deeper, and he grins at you, asking if you had anything more to say

you frown at him, opening your mouth to say something, and Rain pulls back and thrusts into you harshly, making you lose your train of thought as you let out a small whine

he groans as well at the feeling, leaning his head down to kiss you as he starts to fuck into you, his hips grinding against your clit with each thrust

the both of you are breathless, hugging onto each other tight, and you whine out his name, wrapping your legs around his hips tighter

each thrust and moan of your name only sends your head into dizzying heights, pleasure curling and coiling within you and threatening to spill over

Rain isn’t doing much better, each thrust becoming more and more sloppy as his own pleasure climbs to the edge, and he brings his hand up to cradle your face and kiss you even deeper

you whimper into his mouth and use one of your hands to cusp the back of his neck and pull him into you as your pussy clenches down on his cock

your orgasm rushes through you, filling every nerve with a buzzing feeling as you gasp and try to keep him close to you

he isn’t doing much better, his hips stuttering as he presses his hips flush to yours and cums inside of you

the both of you just kiss, moaning into each other’s mouths and enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies before he finally pulls away and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear

Rain smiles at you and says that the both of you are really in it together now, and you snort and slap at his shoulder, saying that the both of you were stuck with each other the second you met him

he can only laugh and agree with you, kissing you one more time

#tangerine writes #tangerine answers #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk x you #mk x y/n #mortal kombat smut #mk smut #mk1 x reader #mk1 x you #mk1 x y/n #mk1 smut #rain x you #rain x y/n #rain x reader #rain smut

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moonselune · 24 days

Note

OMG i think my req sent without finishing :(! So sorry! Could we maybe get a writing snippet where elf tav reunites with Astarion after he became a vampire / post-tadpole?

Magistrate Astarion’s assistant tav became an expert in magic, and runs into Astarion (ascended if you wanted) in the lower city after being gone / pronounced dead for those 200 years?

Omg omg omg this is such a good ask tysm !!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ascended!Astarion x Reader | My Dearest Assistant

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The Lower City of Baldur’s Gate was a place of shadows, where the past often resurfaced in unexpected ways. The years had not dulled its chaotic energy, but you had grown accustomed to the winding streets and the constant hum of life that filled them. As you walked through the familiar alleys, your thoughts drifted to memories of a time long past—a time when you had served as an assistant to Magistrate Astarion.

Astarion had been a figure of authority and charisma, a man who had commanded both respect and admiration. He was known for his dedication to protecting the citizens of Baldur’s Gate, a beacon of justice in a city rife with corruption (at least that is what you thought of him - there were some unsavoury rumours that he was a harsh and corrupt magistrate but you simply could not see him that way).

You had worked closely with him, learning the intricacies of the legal system under his tutelage, and in time, you had become an expert in your own right. But then, one day, Astarion had disappeared without a trace. Rumors of his death had circulated, but there had never been any confirmation.

It had been two centuries since that day, and though you had moved on, the memory of him had never truly faded. You couldn't face the legal system after his disappearance, the courts had ruled him dead and you knew - just knew, in your heart that they were wrong, so they had lost your faith.

Due to your disciplined nature, once you had a taste of magic you quickly rose the ranks and became a successful mage in Waterdeep. Though tonight, as you made your way through the Lower City, visiting some old friends of yours. You felt a strange sense of nostalgia. The air was thick with the scent of rain, and the cobblestones glistened under the dim light of the streetlamps. You were lost in thought when a voice, rich and familiar, broke through the night.

“Well, if it isn’t my little apprentice. I never imagined we’d cross paths again.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. The voice was unmistakable, but it was impossible. Slowly, you turned around, and there he was—Astarion, standing before you as if he had stepped out of a dream. He was just as you remembered him, though there was an air of something different about him now, something darker and more powerful.

“Astarion?” you whispered, hardly believing your eyes. “But… you were—”

“Gone?” he finished for you, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Yes, I suppose that’s true, in a way. But I’ve returned, and it seems the fates were kind enough to bring us together again.”

You were overjoyed to see him, your initial shock giving way to excitement. You rushed forward, embracing him without hesitation. Astarion’s arms wrapped around you, and for a moment, you felt the warmth of familiarity, the comfort of a bond that had never truly been broken.

“I thought you were dead,” you said, pulling back to look at him. Your face alight with joy. “Everyone thought you were dead.”

“A rumor I allowed to flourish,” Astarion replied smoothly. “It served its purpose.”

You didn’t notice the way his eyes lingered on you, or the hunger that flickered behind his smile. To you, he was still the same Astarion you had known all those years ago, the upstanding magistrate who had fought for the people of Baldur’s Gate, no matter what others said. You had no reason to suspect otherwise.

He invited you to his mansion, and you accepted without hesitation, eager to catch up on all the years that had passed. The mansion was grand and opulent, a testament to his success. As you entered, you marveled at the fine decor, the luxurious furnishings, and the sense of history that filled the place. You couldn't help but note he had many loyal servants, all coincidentally having the same red eyes. A strange coincidence you assured yourself, -perhaps they were just family.

Astarion guided you to a room with high ceilings and ornate chandeliers. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, and a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room. You sat together, reminiscing about the past, sharing stories of your adventures and your magical studies.

That night you fell in love with your mentor all over again, he had reached the success you always knew he deserved - you weren't exactly clear on the details on how, but you were happy for him all the same. The rest of the night was filled with heavy flowing wine and reminscing.

But as the night wore on, you felt a growing unease. Something about Astarion’s demeanor had changed—he was more intense, more focused on you than you remembered. When you finally decided it was time to leave, you stood up, thanking him for his hospitality.

“I should be going,” you said, making your way to the grand door. You tried the handle but the door wouldn’t budge. You frowned, trying again, but it was locked.

“Astarion?” you called out, turning back to him. “The door… it’s locked.”

He remained seated, watching you with a predatory gaze. “Yes, it is.”

“Why is it locked?” you asked, a note of alarm creeping into your voice, yet you couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh. “Astarion, let me out, we've had plenty of wine tonight.”

He rose from his chair, moving towards you with a slow, deliberate grace. “You’ve always been so diligent, so obedient. My perfect little assistant. I’ve missed that about you.”

“What are you talking about, Astarion?” you demanded, your heart pounding in your chest as you continued to try the handle, only stopeed when Astarion pulled your shoulder and pinned you to the door.

“I find myself in need of your services once more,” Astarion continued, his voice low and smooth. “You see, I’ve come into a new… position, and I could use someone like you by my side. Forever.”

“Astarion, this isn’t funny. Let me out.” You told him firmly, yet your vouce wavered, your panic evident. Like an animal realising it was prey. "We can talk about this another time."

But he didn’t listen. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “You were always so good to me, always so eager to please. You always silenced those naysayers, those who wished to see me fall. Always saw me for the best that I was and I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

There was a darkness in his eyes that sent a chill down your spine. You tried to move, to lunge away, but he was too fast, his hand gripping your arm with a strength that belied his appearance.

“Let me go, please Astarion” you whispered, fear creeping into your voice. But Astarion only smiled, his fangs glinting in the firelight.

“I’m going to give you a gift,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “A gift that will ensure you stay by my side, just as you always have.”

And before you could react, he sank his fangs into your neck, the sharp pain making you gasp. The world around you began to blur as he drank deeply, his hold on you unyielding. You tried to resist, but it was futile—his power was overwhelming, and you felt yourself growing weaker with every passing moment. No magic would help you now.

As the darkness closed in around you, you realized the truth: Astarion was always the man they said he was, not the man you wanted him to be. And now he had becomes something entirely more wicked.

As the world faded, the last thing you heard was his voice, a soft, satisfied whisper in your ear. “Welcome home, my darling. You’ll never leave me again.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Heheh silly naive little assistant bless them they only wanted the best for astarion ! Hope you guys enjoyed this if you like anymore ascended content check out the dark masterlist below - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

✦. ── Dark BG3 Masterlist ── .✦

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sunny-mercya · 3 months

Text

A mere Human

Sting Eucliffe x Male Reader

Fandom -> Fairy Tail

Masterlist

When Sting had meet you—accidentally during one of his missions—he thought, you too were a child of the dragons. With your complexion of beauty and the way you spoke, so mighty end elegantly as if you belonged to a upperclass—royalty even—family, you easily could be counted as such.

You weren't.

Sting notice that soon enough, bringing a roar—one of deep buried down in the guts—of anger out of him. Not because of you, you weren't at faults here, but at your "Master" or to be more precisely—your handler.

The handler, who had requested the help—and belonged to a guild, which was more a tribe of fanatics worshippers and dark mages—had asked Sting to help him bring you closer to the true power of the Water-Dragon.

You weren't an actual child of the Dragons—like Rouge, Natsu or him—you're just a mere human. Meant to be sacrificed to the deities above.

Sting was baffled, couldn't understand how humans could be so absurd cruel to their own kind. Neither did he understand the ritual they were doing to you. Though what Sting understood—a sort of desire, like a small flame it felt like—that he had to save you. Even if it meant buying you. Prices, how ever high, wouldn't matter to him.

The price was high, so ridiculous high that it took Rouge and Minerva 4 hours to bring it down to an affordable price of 50,000 Jewels (original price, 9950,000,00) for you and Sting had proudly claimed it had been worth all these Jewels.

~~~

Half a year later since Sting had brought you into freedom and yet you're still the same skittish boy with an servant like mindset, when he first had met you and it drove Sting always into a fit of upcoming anger.

Rouge had reminded him over and over again, that it would take some time, effort and patience to break those patterns from you—but Sting wasn't known to be a patience person and when he had cornered you—one day when you were about to clean something again—you got into fright so much that you wailed shrill into a sobbing and released a weeks downpour of heavy rain.

Sting pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging it slightly to ease the pressuring ache of annoyance which keeps building up. Just watching you, how you kneeled on the floor—head down, which gives your neck and back pain again and Sting knows that means another steaming hot bath, looking focused on some simple old card game in front of you—was turning the once felt annoyance into anger again.

Of course, Sting was and would never be angry at you—only at your past handlers, who made you into this mess of anxious fright and dumbly strict following every rule and command—but sometimes the fuel of up staggering annoyances, does made it look like as if Sting was angry with you.

»Oi! [Name], how about we take a stroll around town?«

»We can't, Master Sting. It's getting dark and it rains.«

Sting wanted to laugh at the paradoxical answer you gave him. Someone like you, who could—even when it's unintentional—do weather magic, was not a fan of rain is surely a silly thing to say.

He didn't laughed, decided to sigh out instead. Knowing well the story behind your distaste of rain, which he truthfully had gotten from Minerva—because somehow, for whatever reason, you spoke more with Rouge and Minerva than him and it makes Sting only slightly jealous.

Being forced to create a heavy downpour and than having to sit in said rain for month, was a new form of punishment—Sting didn't knew existed till now.

»Fine. At least sit on the bed to look at those stupid cards. Please.« Sting scoffed

Wordlessly you scoped up the cards in your hands and stood up—making your bones crack and snap sickeningly loud—taking a seat on the bed, next to Sting and holding the card deck now—letting a silence emit between the two of you.

Sting sprung up from the bed, turning to you and ripping the cards out of your hands—throwing them onto the ground, making them scatter around in a mess—face visible morphing into a violent expression of rage.

»Why are you like this?! Why can't you be normal for once, huh?! You know what, don't fucking answer at all! I have enough, fucking enough!«

With an uproar of curses and nasty words towards you, Sting took ahold of your wirst, gripping them tightly and pulling you up—with such a force, that a whine escaped your lips—from the bed and out of the room.

Marching through the guild towards the front door with you, Sting sneered at everyone who comes across his way—especially at Rouge and Minerva, who came running to him and demanding to let you go.

»Sting. Let [Name] go.«

»And why should I?«

»Because you're frightening him.«

»Oh really? Well, that's the only thing he's good enough for, being a little whiny boy. He's so fucking useless and pathetic, annoys me to no end!«

»Sting! Don't you dare!« but Rouge's objections to whatever Sting was planning to do with you, felt on deaf ears.

Sting had opened the door, throwing you outside into the rainy darkness—telling you not to dare to come back inside at all, if you hadn't learned to be useful.

~~~

The heavy downpour—filled with so much sadness—hadn't stopped even weeks after, flooding the riverbanks and streets into a small ocean like lake—the water almost knee high and fishes already been seen swimming in it.

Minerva stood before you, umbrella held above the both of you, looking down at you—and your bone drenched, shivering and trembling mess of bodily limps form—with an expression of minimal sympathy and concern.

In Minerva eyes, you looked rather pathetic and pitiful—a weakling like a newborn is what you are—but that's your charm, Minerva mused, which makes her—kinda, in a sibling like way, after all you too are a child of the water—like you.

»Don't you want to come back inside?« she asks, voice lacking from any kind emotion to speak.

Rouge and Minerva had tried many times, to convince you to come back inside, but all their attempts had been futile—as you didn't want to leave your spot, wouldn't bug with whatever way of sugarcoating and bribery they tried—and they both came to the point, where neither of them wanted to continue with such time consuming wasting.

»No. I can't. Not till Master Stings allows me to.« you uttered in a whisper, voice hoarsely meek.

Minerva sighed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head—should have expected your standard answer.

Despite what Sting had said to you, Minerva knew he hadn't exactly—really not all—meant it in such way, not fully at least—only a small portion of it perhaps, but otherwise it was just the anger which spoke volumes out of Sting.

But without you, Sting was a mess too—lounging around and nagging about boredom and how lonely—especially in bed, without his personal heater and cuddle buddy, which he only begrudgingly admits—he felt, but Sting is too proud and arrogant—in his own selfish way—to say such things, those signs of weakness for a an might Dragon-Slayer, out loud.

»Alright. I come by later then.« Minerva walked away and leaving you by your lonesome once again.

If Sting, Minerva mused in her thoughts—while getting back inside the guild—only wouldn't be so egotistical dumb.

#male reader #x male reader #anime #manga #fanfiction #malereader #oneshot #fairy tail #sting eucliffe #sting eucliffe x male reader #xmalereader #sting x male reader

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tiredfox64 · 4 months

Text

I’m Gonna Be Your Number One

Yip notes: It’s getting hot and audios came back on TikTok so now I remember songs. Ah

Pairing: Rain (MK1) x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: SWIM

It seems magic can’t solve everything.

Everyone knows Rain has an amazing grasp on water magic. He can cause geysers to burst from the ground, shield himself with a wall of water, and hold an orb of water in the palm of his hands. Yet even the greatest who have mastered water cannot master it all. The waves will crash wherever they like. The pools will submerge whoever they want. Once the water has a grip on you, you lose your grip on it. That’s the last thing Rain wants to happen.

So in short, Rain doesn’t trust the water fully. Meaning he never liked going into bodies of water resulting in him being unable to…swim?

What? What do you mean Zeffeero can’t swim? He’s a water mage, how could he not know how to swim? That makes no sense! What do you mean it’s the same with me being a drummer? It is not! Just because I’m a musician doesn’t mean I need to learn scales. IT’S HARD OKAY! I DIDN’T START WITH THE PIANO IT’S NOT MY FAULT I WANTED TO BE AWESOME! HIM NOT KNOWING HOW TO SWIM IS NOT THE SAME AS ME NOT KNOWING BASS CLEF YOU DI-

As the seasons changed and the weather began to blister in Outworld it grew unbearable. You were visiting Rain more often just to find a way to cool off. He told you his magic was not supposed to be used to cool people off but you ignored that. Plus, he always gave in and created a cloud to drizzle over you to help you out. You are his dearest friend after all. He’d do anything for you.

Remember that for later.

Those little showers were not cutting it. Everyone else in Outworld were going to lakes and beaches to cool off. You wanted and needed to do the same, not alone of course. You want to go with your friend. It felt right to invite Rain to come with you to the beach. He could probably do some cool stuff with the ocean water. But when you suggested that to him he immediately said no. Actually, he raised his voice when he said that which caught the attention of others. He quickly apologized for raising his voice before saying he couldn’t. You asked him why and the excuses came. It’s not like Empress Sindel wouldn’t allow it, she wanted a beach day as badly as anyone else. Finally, he budged after you wouldn’t stop interrogating him. He whispered the truth to you. The truth is that he never learned to swim.

He was worried you would make fun of him or think he was a loser but you were more shocked in reality. How could your best friend not know how to swim? Well that won’t do. You’re gonna change that. You told him you would take the initiative to teach him yourself. He was very hesitant to do it, saying there was no reason for him to start learning now. You reminded him that he would do anything for you and this was something you wanted him to do. Fine, you win, but it needs to be in private. You promised him it would stay between you two and that you know the perfect spot to practice.

Better buy the man a pair of swimming trunks, he's gonna need them.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

“Where are we going?” Rain asked while following you through a forest he had never been in.

“You’ll find out when we get there.” You replied with a smile on your face.

You walked through a forest you frequently visit. It’s hidden from the eyes of others. The trees grow high into the sky, leaving the forest ground in a cooling shade while letting the sunlight peek through to allow the flora to bloom. In the distance, the sound of running water is heard. It’s a calming sound. Rain has no idea how you found this place but it does seem neat. He wished you would tell him what this visit was all about. Maybe he should take in the fact that you told him to wear the swim trunks that you bought him. Soon enough, both of you came across an opening that led to a pond. The water was clear enough to show the smooth stones that lay at the bottom of the pond.

Rain wanted to back out but you gestured for him to come closer to the water. The water was so calm that he could see his reflection without any distortion. No ripples or tiny waves. He wanted to tell you that he didn’t want to do this today but you were already taking your clothes off. He immediately looked away out of respect.

“Don’t be shy. I’m wearing a bathing suit.” The tone you used with him made him feel silly.

When Rain looked back at you he was stunned by your beauty. He has never seen you in a bathing suit before. He has never seen you like this. In all honesty, you were working that bathing suit like a model. He didn’t realize he was staring at you for so long that you caught him in the act. That’s perfectly fine. You wanted his attention. You took his hand to guide him to the water but he yanked you back.

“It’s…cold.” He was making excuses now.

“And it’s horribly hot right now. I rather be cold than burning up.” You were determined to get Rain into the water. You need to take it slow.

You held Rain’s hand tightly as you moved further into the pond. The water cooled your skin and splashed against your leg every time you stepped forward. It’s the sensation you have been desiring for days. But for Rain, it was like walking through a pile of needles. But he had to do this for you. If he backed out now he would disappoint you. As much as he hated failing himself, he would hate to fail you.

He marched forward, closing his eyes and holding your hand tightly. You guys went further into the pond until the water reached your chest. Only then did Rain open his eyes. You gave him a smile, happy to see him get this far into the pond. And…well…it wasn’t all that bad. The water did feel refreshing and helped cool his body down after the long walk. He was even brave enough to create an orb using the water in front of him. Your eyes sparkled seeing him use his magic. That was until he made the orb pop on top of your head, completely soaking you.

Rain couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle. Though you always enjoyed his laughter and found it to be a moment of peace, this was different. This meant war. You used your arm to create a wave of water that splashed onto Rain. His hair suddenly lost its volume and was now covering his eyes. You let out a triumphant laugh before feeling something wrap around your waist. There was nothing there, or so you thought. You got picked up from the water and you could then see that Rain was using water tentacles to mess with you.

“Hey! No fair! You’re using magic!” You yelled out.

“All is fair in love and war.” He shot back.

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

Whether or not it did make sense, it doesn’t matter now. You were telling Rain to let you down. He let you down all right. Right into his arms. Instead of water tentacles being wrapped around your waist it was his arms this time. This was all in good fun plus he was loving this moment with you. You saw that he was getting comfortable with the water which was a good sign to you. It might be time to push it. It might be time to push a lot of things since this moment was getting pretty intimate.

“Come on, let’s go deeper.” You suggested.

“Are you sure? Are you certain that you want to teach me?”

“I’m not the kind of girl who gives up just like that. I promise I’ll be holding on to you.” You were very certain. Your tone was confident which made Rain feel a little better.

He put you down into the water and you took his hand once more. Slowly but surely you made your way deeper into the pond. The shade of the water was becoming darker. You thought it would be best to see how long Rain could actually hold his breath. You told him to take a big breath and that you will be doing the same thing with him. Big breath in…and…dive!

You and Rain submerged yourselves under the water. You held hands as you looked at each other. So far so good. He wasn’t panicking which helped a lot. It might have been because you were right there with him. But the first breath might not be the best. You could already tell he was struggling as little air bubbles left his lips. You could signal for him to breach the surface to gain more air but at the same time you had an idea. You always wanted to do this little trick. You didn’t think it would actually worked but it doesn’t hurt to experiment. Plus it will be a great excuse to put your lips against Rain’s lips.

You pulled Rain in. He thought you would try to help him up to the surface but no. Instead, he felt your lips against his. He didn’t feel any air being pushed past. All he could feel was you. His eyes were wide while you stayed as calm as you could. Your heart was going crazy which really wasn’t the best when underwater. But it’s okay you’ll get more air soon. You pulled back from Rain and looked at him to see if that did anything. It certainly did something but it wasn’t what you expected.

Rain was so shocked his mouth went agape. All of his air came out in one big air bubble. You immediately panicked and grabbed hold of him. For someone who wasn’t a fighter you sure were strong. You brought Rain up to the surface in seconds. He took a huge breath, feeling the burning from his lungs become dull. He wanted to ask you why you kissed him but he had to catch his breath first.

“You know you were supposed to keep the air in, right?” You tried to lighten the mood with a joke.

“You…You kissed me!?” Rain pointed out.

“What!? No! I didn’t!” You tried to defend yourself.

Yeah it wasn’t really a kiss but you did want it to be. Why else would you try something that you knew wouldn’t one hundred percent work. You wouldn’t try that move with any other guy. You would never even dream of it. Except with Rain. You would do it to him. You DID do it to him.

“You and I both know that what you did doesn’t work. It’s a myth.” He called you out.

“…so?”

“So!?”

Now you felt like the silly one. You were wondering if Rain would be upset with you now and think you were a loser. You pulled a risky stunt and though it didn’t kill him he might want to kill you now. You were about to apologize before you heard him say something that surprised you.

“If you so badly wanted a kiss you could have asked. You didn’t need to do all of this to gain my attention.”

Well, you didn’t actually plan this whole thing just to get a kiss but it’s a win I guess.

“It wasn’t like that but okay. I’m sorry if I upset you.” Don’t go pulling that cute voice out when you apologize. You know he falls for it.

Now you’re giving him those puppy dog eyes as you pull him in closer. You’re truly killing Rain at this point. Just drown him while you’re at it.

“It’s not like you had competition. You should have been formal.”

“Ah well, actually every girl wants you to be her man. I had a lot of competition.” You corrected him.

He was surprised. Do women actually want him? You were telling the truth. The ladies love him. They love a man with power and magic. That’s why you needed to strike. But this wasn’t the strike you were planning on taking.

“It doesn’t matter now. You clearly feel the same since you told me I could have just asked.”

Rain wanted to protest but you were right. He did tell you that you could have asked him for a kiss and he would have given it to you. Shoot maybe you could have asked him to be your boyfriend and he would have accepted since you were so formal about it.

Might as well call this pond Awkward Lovers Lake cause that’s all that seems to be in it. Yes, it says lake when it’s actually a pond, this is not new. Things are misnamed all the time.

There was an awkwardness between you two that had to be broken. Luckily you still had some bravery in you to do it.

“Would you like to keep on playing in the water?” You asked.

You heard him sigh before he said, “Of course. Just don’t make me swim or hold my breath.”

“Deal!”

Yap notes: No I don't actually think he can't swim. I think he could swim fine I just thought it would be ironic 💀. I just really wanted to do more for Rain cause he was the first one I tried when it came to fanfics. I love my snookie pookie. Plus it's the first day of June meaning summer is getting hot, hot, hot. AND it's my birthday month so of course I had to involve him. He's just so handsome I love him. I would give him a kiss if he wasn't washing me away all the time. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #rain mk1 #mk rain #rain mk #rain x reader #mortal kombat rain #rain mortal kombat #mk1 rain #fluff

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yoonia · 3 months

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the bedroom hymns ● chapter xx

⟶ Chapter summary | Once the gate of secrets about your mother has been opened, it seems that magic is slowly guiding you to follow the traces your mother’s left behind in this realm. As if her shadows still remain, and you are now tasked to find every piece of her still left behind.

Author's note | I never expected that the break I took between this chapter and the last would go so long. I'm so sorry for the long wait. I hope the longer chapter makes up for the lack of update

chapter xx. traces

The scent of the forest hangs heavily in the air—the remnants of rain, the rich fragrance of earth, and the slightly humid, yet strongly pine-scented breeze.

As you walk between the trees, a thick white mist rises from the ground around you, making it somewhat hard to look at what you are stepping on or where you are going. This place is dark, even if there are still some streaks of light visibly falling from the sky. But those lights don’t seem strong enough to pierce through the thick foliage, nor can they penetrate through the dense fog moving together with you. Not enough to illuminate your surroundings so you can see better. Only enough to show you the unmoving shadows that are present around you and helping to stop you from crashing into trees or stumbling against a boulder hiding beneath the undergrowth.

Still, the darkness cannot stop you from searching through the woods to find out where you are.

You hadn’t exactly expected to be in the depths of a forest like this when you first stepped through the magic door. Perhaps you should have expected that your secret exploit would be a peculiar one tonight, given the circumstances leading you here.

The silver door that you had chosen for this evening’s adventure was completely different from the ones you went through before, after all.

Hidden at the end of the hallway where the treasure rooms are located, the door looked more like a sculpted wall ornament, sunk deeply into the stone walls with nothing more but a small alcove marking its existence and floral embellishments carved on its surface. You may have walked past it many times before, yet never once had you ever paid much attention to it, thinking that it was merely a decorated wall to grace the treasure rooms’ hall.

It wasn’t until early this evening that things ended differently—when you walked past the hall after leaving the library much later than usual. You were carrying with you the book which had caught your interest while spending your free time reading in the library—the Encyclopaedia of Ancient Monsters and Magic Beasts—barely even thinking of anything other than to quickly bring it back to your bedchamber so you could continue reading through the pages. You had every intention to later compare everything you learned from that book with the texts written in the ancient spell book you acquired during your trip to the Mage City of Aeris. What better way to do so than to be in your private quarters, lest to have your tutors questioning your new book had they saw it in the library.

You had your arms wrapped around the book when you turned the corner where the magic door was hidden, clutching it against your chest while picturing the images you saw from it. You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost believed you were imagining things when the plain embellishments on the wall suddenly began shimmering.

As if the carvings on the wall were reacting to your presence.

Perhaps something else had caused it? Something that had been in your possession for the first time as you travelled down that hall this time, maybe?

You cannot help but wonder as you reach down, gently tapping the sling bag hanging to your side where the book is now being kept secure. Thinking about it now, you remember that the glimmer of light coming from the carvings had not been all that had drawn you toward the hidden door.

While you were still struggling to make sense of what was happening, your necklace was also beginning to show a reaction. It felt subtle at first, yet the warmth pressing on your skin from the back of your ruby amulet was hard to ignore. It reminded you of how your necklace showed some peculiar reactions during your last trip, when it seemed to respond to the magic found in Aeris.

As you came to a halt, the warmth coming from the gemstone started growing stronger. Your eyes flew to the alcove as the magic essence of the portal began to emerge, revealing to you that the sculpted embellishments had been something more than just a wall ornament.

The whisperings of the magic came to you next, enchanting you to come closer, compelling you to reach into your pocket and pull out the silver key. At first, you weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to do. Looking at the carved wall in front of you, there was no possible guide telling you how you were going to use your magic key on a piece of carved ornament.

But then the carvings on the wall began to change form. The plain grey shades painted on the carvings slowly turned into silver plates right before your eyes. The linings beneath the alcove shifted into what appeared to be a doorframe, and then a keyhole emerged between the carvings of a pair of wings on the side which you have never noticed before.

A baffled laughter climbed up your throat as you watched in disbelief. “A door? This was a door this whole time?” you wondered loudly as the silver door took its final form right at the center of the dark wall.

You could barely process what was happening even as the scene was unfolding right before your eyes. The door seemed to have enchanted you with its charm, drawing you closer towards it as the silver carvings magically glimmered brightly like the moonlight.

Reaching deep into your pocket, you keep your eyes on the door as you pull out the magic key. Your heartbeat skipped a beat as you carefully inserted the key and turned until a resounding click echoed through the empty hall. There was no handle emerging from the door, yet it opened on its own, bringing in a strong cold breeze that felt nothing like anything you ever had encountered before as it slowly widened right in front of you.

Another peculiarity happened as the magic portal was activated. As you pushed the door wider, the usual sight of the dark blue void wasn’t what appeared in the opened doorway. Instead, you saw the sight of a dark forest, as if it had been hidden right on the other side of the wall instead of across the realm—wherever your new destination might be.

To be able to see the new world that you were about to step into was a new experience. You wondered if you should be wary about stepping in. But this was unlike your previous excursions, where you had to go blindly into the portal without having any clue where you were going to end up next. What laid before you seemed like a challenge, and at the same time, a promise.

A promise of a new and exciting adventure that you would regret never getting into. A new world to learn.

So you gathered yourself together, not even bothering to think about how you were going to miss supper by stepping out of the castle so late. After quickly grabbing your coat and a sling bag to carry your magic books along with you, you stepped through the door and began your journey across the realm.

So far, everything about this new adventure of yours has been out of the ordinary, just as much as how it began.

As if the events leading you to open the portal hadn’t been peculiar enough, the magic portal had sent you emerging at the center of a dark forest. The portal, which had appeared as a part of an alcove which was built into a wall, opened up on what seemed to be the mouth of a small cave once you got to the other side of it.

“Magic is a very peculiar thing,” was the only thing you could say as you looked back at the portal which had manifested between the alcove forming the cavern’s entrance. Unlike the other portals, you were able to see the dark hallway that you had just stepped out of. Only you were made to feel as if you were looking at it through a tinted-blue glass as the void manifested around the opening like a protective shield.

It still baffles you even now to think about it, as you are trudging through the thick woods, continuing your journey without even knowing if you are going in the right direction.

Only fates know how long it has been since you came to this place. With nothing but the night sky above and trees in a myriad of shapes and sizes surrounding you, it is hard to tell how much time has passed.

The white mist keeps growing thicker as you keep going, covering the ground beneath. You can barely see your own legs as every step you take going forward seems to be engulfed in the peculiar mist as you get deeper into the forest. This has been going on for a while, and you are beginning to wonder if you will ever find a way to get out of these thickets.

At least you have reached the part of the forest where the trees are no longer as dense as before. Yet, despite being no longer close-packed together, their sizes seem to grow significantly larger that they still fill the forest with their presence. Their thick boughs spread wider here to make up for the thinning foliage above, leaving nothing more but fractured streaks of moonlight streaming down from the night sky. Still, it barely helps you see your way through, as the white mist continues to gather thickly around your legs and is slowly climbing higher, as high as your elbows.

The forest is also quiet.

The sound of gravel, fallen branches, and dry leaves crunching beneath your boots becomes your only company. Thick bushes and tall wildflowers growing as far up to your waist are spread between the thick trees. One too many times, the tips of your boots would get tangled in them, if not coming in contact with sharp rocks that are hidden under the mist.

While none of these obstacles would be enough to tip you over, they are still enough to make you grow more cautious. To be wary of where you are stepping your foot next.

The shadows around you are still, adding the eeriness which makes you feel as if you are being swallowed by the darkness around you. The temperature is slightly colder than the darkest hallways of Stargrave. Colder than the damp alleyways of the slum area back in Smotia.

But the air also feels like a comforting embrace here that you barely feel the urge to tighten your cloak to protect yourself. How odd, indeed, you wonder to yourself as you continue to walk deeper into the forest while feeling like you are walking in a dream.

A dream that is more peculiar than the one that you have been getting lately.

Even the trees growing around you appear like parts of an eerie dream as you look closer. The trunks are thick and massive, twisted and bent in sinister shapes and appear as if they are decaying as they grow in various shades of grey. The same thing appears on the sweeping branches that seem to grow out of those giant trunks like twisted hands reaching into the darkness.

Yet those limbs don’t appear bare. Not all of them. Some of the thicker ones are full of leaves, growing in dark teal that appear almost black, yet are glowing like jewels under the night sky. The ones that are bare without leaves almost look like giant fingers, pointing out through the darkness as if they are trying to reach out to you as you walk underneath them.

Below, the undergrowth begins to grow denser. With more bushes and rough hedges thickly covering the ground, high grass reaching almost to your knees and small tree buds popping from between the giant ones. The flower beds grow more scarce around here that the forest now appears to your eyes in monochrome colours of grey and deep teal.

A rustling sound coming from somewhere nearby catches your attention—sounding almost like a clear snap against the silence that has befriended you—and you come to a sudden halt. The sudden shift of movements brings your sling bag swinging forward, knocking against the back of your calves. The weight of the books inside the bag adds an extra punch as it swings along your body, while the weight of your cloak tries to drag you sideways with it when it falls around you.

“Ouch,” you hiss at the sudden impact while adjusting your sling bag and straightening up before gravity has the chance to bring you down.

The rustling sound continues, causing you to grow more alert this time. Spinning, you search for the sound. Scanning through the trees around you isn’t helping much, however. The foliage is still too dense, the space around you is still too dark, and it is making it hard for you to determine where the sound is coming from. So you wait, all while doing your best to grasp the change in the air and force yourself to listen to any other noises that may follow.

A gust of wind bursting through the foliage makes you realise that the sounds may not be coming from anywhere around you. Nowhere close, for sure, as you see no movement in the dark even when the wind breezes across once more.

It’s coming from above.

The thought soon registers in your mind just as a blip of darkness steals away the barely-there moonlight penetrating through the thick foliage from above. You look up, drawn by your curiosity when another rustle of leaves, followed by a burst of cold breeze, lures your attention to the night sky.

And that is when you see it as it happens right before your eyes.

Beyond the top of the trees reaching so far up high to the night sky, something massive passes above you. Flapping its giant wings with leisure, it glides across the starry sky, covering the ground below with its shadow before it disappears from sight as it continues its journey.

It isn’t until another passes by with the same motion, and then another, drifting in the air so gracefully that it almost feels like you are still dreaming when you begin to understand what you are seeing.

Dragons.

A wave of cold shivers runs through your body. Before you realise what you are doing, you are already moving. Your legs are unsteady, yet they still carry you forward, even if your steps may be a little too haste. Navigating through the thick woods will surely be a hassle, particularly in this unfamiliar darkness and while you are trying to catch up with the movements of the dragons flying above.

But you refuse to give up.

You refuse to let go of any chance to get a better look at these magnificent beasts that you had only seen pictures of in the books you have read—more significantly, in the book that you are carrying now inside your bag—and you wish to see more of the place where these giant beasts truly exist.

With one hand clutching tightly on the sling of your bag and the other wrapped firmly around the handle of the golden dagger that you keep hanging on your hip, you march forward, following the cold trail of wind left behind by the flying dragons.

You keep your gaze forward, with only short glances to the sky above to look as a few more dragons come flying by. Some are much smaller than the ones you saw before, a few more that look to be average in size, and then the last and largest one glides across the sky, shaking the trees around you with each flap of its giant wings.

So you begin to run.

Racing through the twisted and bent trees, you try to keep up with those dragons before you lose sight of them The snapping sounds of your rapid footsteps crossing through the undergrowth coming in your way follow you, yet they are barely noticeable when the air is filled with the sounds of their flights—the flaps of their wings, the gentle swish of their tails, and their staggering roars and high-pitched calls as they get further away from the woods.

You ignore the slight pain you feel as bare, low-hanging branches reach out to you like bony fingers—snagging your cloak and hair, snapping and nicking at your skin. Yet not once do you falter, not even allowing yourself to slow down when running out of breath. And you continue to run until you finally reach the end of the woods.

The trees open up to a spread of high grass which ends with a wall of low boulders merely several feet away, right where the levelled land ends before it drops into what appears to be a ravine.

You look up, following the movements of the last dragons as they glide above the wide length of the chasm, heading towards the tall mountain on the other end. Right atop that mountain, you see the sight of an old castle appearing in the darkness, its walls rising in dark stones that glimmer under the stars and the moonlight shining from above. Built to look like it serves as the crown of the mountain, the castle seems to blend into the rocky cliff below.

Much like the Stargrave Castle.

The only difference is that your new home doesn’t have giant dragons of all sizes, shapes, and colours flying around it in a circular motion as if they are worshipping it. As if they are protecting their home.

Gaping at the astonishing sight before you, your breath is caught. You can hear the sound of your heartbeat getting louder as you watch the last dragon you followed joining the others circling the castle on the rocky mountain. The sounds of their calls echo through the night. Like a birdsong.

Speechless, you can only admire this sight in silence with goosebumps rising on your skin. You simply cannot believe it.

You know exactly where you are.

E'l Alora.

The dragons’ lair.

The place that you had just learned and read about from the book that is now weighing down your sling bag—the Encyclopaedia of Ancient Monsters and Magic Beasts. The book which tells you about the monsters of the night that you are now seeing right before your eyes.

This place is real, you muse, finding yourself moving forward before realising it as if you are drawn by the sight of dragons—real dragons—flying so elegantly in the dark sky.

You stop by the boulders, and a cold shiver rushes through your body as you get a closer look at the ravine before you. The widespread of chasm that looks like a dark void, separating you from the mountain and its glimmering black castle standing on its crown.

But as you lean forward to take a good look down below, you are caught by surprise at what you find hidden down there. Instead of seeing a massive fall of rocky walls ending into an abyss, you can see that there is life. Life other than the dragons.

A civilization growing on the walls.

Houses and buildings are built into the rocky mountain wall, levelling from the highest part of the wall to the lowest section down below, with long-winding streets and ramps connecting one to the other. A shadow of a bridge appears in the darkest part of the ravine, crossing between the town on the wall to the foot of the cliff far beneath the dragons’ castle.

And just like how the rocky mountain across the ravine is now lively with those giant dragons floating in the sky, the town below you is wide awake. There are lights everywhere, illuminating the town as they are set alight from the buildings and homes, and there are streetlights standing on the edge of the road, allowing you to see everything from up high.

You can see the people from the town moving in and out of those buildings, strolling up and down the streets, with carriages and carts led by massive horses driving on the streets like what you see in any regular towns. And they all seem to be going about their evening as if it is just any normal night.

As if having giant dragons flying in the sky is a normal occurrence to have in their everyday lives.

Drawn by your curiosity, you follow the path from the top of the hill which you are stranded in that leads you towards the bustling town below. With the hood of your cloak pulled up neatly back in place, your hands clutching the sling of your bag and your dagger sheathed nicely against your hip, you ready yourself to continue your adventure.

To get a closer look at this odd town, to meet the residents you see finishing their nightly activities, and hopefully, learn more about how they are able to live peacefully alongside the magnificent beasts gathering close by, with nothing more but the deep chasm separating them from one another.

The human town of E’l Alora was already a breathtaking sight to look at from the top of the cliff. But nothing beats being at the center of it where you can have a closer look at everything.

Houses, apartments, shops, and other buildings built with dark-coloured stones reflecting the moonlight seem to be blending into the rocky walls. They appear as if they manifested from the cliff walls on the side of the ravine instead of being built against it. Some buildings are several stories high, with open staircases and balconies made up of muted grey-coloured stones, allowing the darker facade of the building to stand out more. Some houses are built low enough that they seem to sink into the rocky walls, with rocks carved in slates to form structures and roofs framing each house.

The stone-covered road looks sturdy, smoothed nicely to follow each dent and curve of the ravine walls as it connects each house and building. As you walk down the road and finally get a good look at it from up close, you notice that some of the stones seem to sparkle and glitter, as if there are broken pieces of diamonds or gemstones implanted into the stones.

Being in the town means you are not only getting the first look at the townspeople—most of whom are still doing their routines and working even as the night is growing late and the sky darker—but you are also getting a closer look at the flying dragons above. You can even feel the hard whoosh coming down between the draft of wind each time a dragon flaps its giant wing.

It amazes you to see that while you are marvelling at this new experience with wonder, the townspeople you come across seem to be more nonchalant about the presence of these giant beasts. Even when the dragons are so close, flying right above their town, sometimes gliding lower than the others as if to have a closer look at the town and their neighbours.

Strange how they can simply carry on with their evening, with only a small few of them who would occasionally glance up with fond smiles on their faces as they watch the dragons gliding closer.

To say that you are completely stunned to be able to witness this seems like an understatement. A glorious shudder runs through you when you realise how privileged you are to be experiencing something like this.

Something that you would have never come across had you not been gifted the chance through your father’s magic.

Sighing deeply, you lean back in your seat, your eyes never wandering away from the open window beside you as you continue to look out and enjoy the scenery. You had continued walking until you reached the town square before you finally stumbled into this place; a three-story building divided into three different functions—a small tavern on the ground level, rented rooms on the second floor, and a private apartment on the top floor.

You have found the tavern as the perfect place to find shelter, while earning you the front seat of what is currently unfolding in this town. This part of the town is built on a section of the wall which extends toward the center of the ravine, getting you a bit closer to the foot of the mountain where the castle is built.

Staring out at the dark castle standing atop the mountain, with your book about dragons lying on your lap, your mind wanders to the one person you cannot help but wish to accompany you right now.

You wonder what it would have been like if only Yoongi had been here, sitting in this dimly lit room together with you, his sharp eyes watching every movement coming from the dragons. You wonder what kind of stories he would be sharing with you, or what type of jokes he would be throwing at you had he seen you looking flabbergasted the first time you arrived in this place.

It is really hard not to think about Yoongi at times like this, although you cannot say that you understand the reason why. It’s not like you have known him for your entire life and so deeply that he would be the first to come to your mind while you are travelling across realms.

Yet he haunts your mind in every second that you breathe. Always coming into your thoughts either when you are feeling lonely or when you find yourself lost in a strange place.

The way Yoongi constantly preoccupies your mind makes you believe that you are seeing his shadows everywhere you look. Never missing the trails left behind to show you that he may have stepped foot in the places that you are visiting.

It happened to you back in Aeris, when you saw the crest of The Brotherhood of Jorn stamped in various places you came across—on the bulletin boards, on the streetlight poles, and some on the walls of the back alleys. You have been seeing the same thing here ever since you first entered the human town of E’l Alora, when you caught sight of the same crest stamped and painted on the gates and announcement boards that the townspeople use to put up the local news, even on the walls of a few of the establishments that you walked pass by while heading to this place.

Even here, right in this tavern, you can see the same crest marked on the wall across the room, where a long table is set as if it was prepared specifically to hold a group meeting.

“We leave our crests in places where we often use as our rendezvous spots. Places for us to recoup, gather information, find work, or have a little downtime between our expeditions. The crest is a mark of our trail, showing our gratitude for the people who welcome us, and the people that we owe our strength to. It also lets them know that they can rely on the brotherhood whenever they need us.”

Yoongi shared this when you talked about seeing his crest everywhere you went. You can almost picture it now in your head, the mercenaries wearing various armours and disguises gathering on that same table, Yoongi amongst them, boasting about their journeys while sharing drinks and hot meals as they gather at that long table.

As always, thinking of Yoongi makes you smile. Even better when you imagine listening to him speak. You love how deeply he often speaks about the things that he brings up in your conversations, even when he is discussing something as benign as the weather. Often with a smug smile on his face when he talks about all the things you have no knowledge of.

You wonder what he would say if you had the chance to share the things that you have been learning for the past week—how much you have advanced in controlling your energy and mana and making use of it in exchange for your locked magic. You wonder how he would react if you share with him what you have recently learned from Lord Gordan—about the true nature of your skills that you may have inherited from your mother.

Would he somehow recognise the skill, or maybe he would be able to reveal who you are based on this peculiar skill alone?

Knowing how knowledgeable he is about magic and everything else related to this realm, you wouldn’t be too surprised if he ever learned about your mother. There is a sense of unease when you think about it, however, to think of the possibility that he may know more about your mother and your heritage than you do.

Thinking of Yoongi takes you back to the day before, when you came to the city of Aeris. Your findings of the Mage City and its spectacular perks seem to be pushed to the sidelines whenever the cloaked figure you saw that day comes to mind.

Looking back, you wonder if your desire to see Yoongi again has grown so strong that it is taking over your sanity. You were quite sure that the figure had spent a brief moment standing right outside of the magic shop. His presence a lurking shadow in the bright city, watching your movements while you were in the shop.

Chasing him was an instinct that you couldn’t resist to follow. Drawn entirely by your curiosity, and perhaps the dire need to see if it had been the one you desired to see the most, only to be led into a futile chase through the city.

Regret still follows you to this day, only because losing his trail in the bustling city square had left you with no answer. Nothing to stop you from wondering why that figure had felt so familiar to your eyes.

At least your trip hadn’t ended with you coming home from the Mage City completely empty-handed.

The shopkeeper of l'Équinoxe had been kind enough to wait for your return. She asked no questions when you came back to the shop, simply welcoming you back with a smile before helping you purchase the spell book which she had gone to fetch for you. The same spell book which had later taken away a few hours you had late in the night as you spent it reading the pages.

Cold breeze flows through the open window, pulling your wandering mind back to present. It pushes against the void that has been growing in your chest from Yoongi’s absence, causing your entire body to tremble.

As you reach out to grab your discarded cloak to find some semblance of warmth, a large cup of hot steaming drink manifests in front of your eyes. It lands with a soft thud when placed on the table before you. The scent of fresh herbs mixed with spice and rum fills your senses, warming your chest before you even have a taste.

“Here you go. This should help warm you up. It’s a specialty of ours in this town,” says the tavern keeper as he stands to the side of your table.

Lord Merryl—as he introduced himself to you earlier when he first approached you to offer you shelter—is a tall and built man who is only slightly taller than Lord Gordan, with greying hair that grows as long as his shoulders and a thin dark beard dusted in grey covering his sharp jaw.

Thinking about how you met previously warms your cheeks. You must have seemed like a lost puppy when you walked past the tavern earlier, your eyes wandering around as you tried to take everything in while figuring out where to go. When Lord Merryl first came to you and invited you into his establishment, he did so in the most gentle way that one would do to offer a safe shelter for a stray getting lost in a strange town.

Looking back at it now, you realise that he wasn’t the only one who had given you a friendly welcome.

When you first walked into the town, you had expected that the magic inside your necklace would take effect, shielding you from others. Yet, aside from the soft hum still following you through the vibrating ruby amulet, nothing else happened. Bereft of the usual warmth of its protective spell, it simply clung onto you with its lightweight pressing on your skin.

It didn’t seem to matter, however, when instead of gaining accusing stares and cold shoulders from the townspeople that you met, you only received warm smiles and kind greetings. There were even some who came up to you, giving you directions and showing you where to go, until you finally reached the town square where Lord Merryl found you.

It makes you smile just thinking about it. To realise how good it feels not to be invisible.

Murmuring your gratitude, you pick up the cup and take a dainty sip. A voluntary hum slips out of you as the warmth spreads through your body, instantly calming your senses and washing away your weariness. “This is lovely.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Lord Merryl’s lips rise to a smile of pride. “I meant it when I said I would have the perfect ale to soothe your mind.”

You cannot help but laugh as you recall him saying those words when he first came to you earlier. “Yes,” you nod, “I suppose you’ve only proven your words to be true.”

Releasing a deep sigh, you embrace the warmth now coursing through your body. Turning back to look out the window, you can feel your body relaxing as you continue taking in the view and doing some more people—and dragon—watching.

The town indeed feels lively with the townspeople walking up and down the street, some lingering in the town square to enjoy their downtime while others are still working in their shops and the open establishments that are visible from where you are sitting. The sounds of their muted chatters and faint laughter fill the night as they greet each other upon passing by. You can see small groups of people sharing friendly conversations on the side of the street, and there is a faint sound of musical strings echoing from somewhere down the road.

Street musicians, you wonder with a smile. A town really couldn’t go without one present.

At one glance, this place does seem like any other town you’ve been to. And it would’ve been that way if not for the fact that there are dozens or more dragons flying above their heads right now, their high trills and calls echoing through the ravine, causing your chest to tremble along with the noises they are making.

“Quite a remarkable view to see, isn’t it? Sometimes one can forget how uncommon our lives are because we’ve gotten so used to this, until we remember that not all in this realm can experience living in a place like our home,” Lord Merryl muses as he notices how you keep following the dragons’ movements with your gaze.

You simply cannot help it, after all. Unable to look away from the mythical beings that you have always believed to be a part of a myth, or Ancient creatures that should no longer exist in this more modern time.

And they are quite a sight to look at.

Most of the dragons have stopped circling around the dark castle a while ago, leaving only a couple of the larger ones flying up there as if keeping a close watch of their territory. You can see the shadows of the ones who are now perched on the towers and the rise of the wall around the castle from afar, while you see some of the smaller ones now flying close to the human town, floating in and out of the ravine, allowing you to have a clearer view whenever they glide right over the town square.

You are beginning to understand the reason why Lord Merryl had given you the seat by the window when you first came in. The place in his establishment which allows you to have the perfect view of the town and its special perks. He must have noticed how mesmerised you were with the sight of the dragons, unable to resist glancing back up at them while you were walking down the street, making you look vulnerable, lost, and—quite understandably—disoriented.

“I’ve learned quite a bit about E’l Alora and its dragons, yet the book that I’ve read so far had insinuated that this place was a sacred land which only existed in Ancient times. So please excuse my disbelief and ignorance which you may have seen for yourself when I first arrived here,” you share with him while pasting a smile, leaving out the fact that you have only been reading the book today.

It wouldn’t matter if you had spent all afternoon studying all the facts and myths about this place from your book, getting lost in the tales and the history of dragons. You had only stopped when the untranslated texts at the end pages caught your eyes, leading you to carry the book out of the library to study them more despite having been forbidden to do so.

What little information written in the textbook about this place hadn’t been enough to prepare you for what you have found so far. Which means that there are bound to be more secrets about this place waiting to be unveiled.

“It was already a pleasant surprise to find that this place exists, much less to find out that even the dragons still live here, right where their home castle still stands. Still so marvellous and grand.” Your body shivers, feeling the excitement building up as you think about what other things you may find simply by being here.

“But what’s more surprising for me to find is that there are mortals living here, in a town that looks like it had manifested from the mountain, and that there is a peaceful life shared here between the mortals and these magnificent dragons.”

There is a pride smile on the tavern keeper’s face when you look at him again. “This is the life that we’ve all known for centuries,” Lord Merryl claims as he takes the seat at the table, right across from you. “The dragons protect us, and we protect the dragons.”

Eyes widening, you straighten up in your seat, intrigued to hear more. Seeing firsthand the way the townspeople and dragons together has already shown you how special and different E’l Alora is compared to many other places you have been to. But to hear about how directly connected they truly are as they share the same land to live in is quite an intriguing fact for you to learn.

“Most of the people who live in this town are miners and artisans, but there are also knights and fighters—” He stops and looks over his shoulder as a small dragon floats by. You can see through the window the people who stop on the street to wave. At first glance, you think for a moment that they are waving at the midnight-coloured dragon who seems to be making a show as it circles back and makes another pass, until you see a shadow riding on its back, just as Lord Merryl gently adds, “—and riders.”

You take a double look at the dragon as it shoots back up, flying higher up the mountain, carrying the rider—wearing all black from head to toe—along with it. “You—ride those dragons?” you ask with a soft gasp, which has the Lord chuckling softly.

“Only the chosen ones do,” he says with a grin. “Every mortal living in this town, men and women, train their whole lives to ride and fight alongside the dragons to protect this land. When they officially come of age, those who are trained will be tested, and those who pass the test will be bonded with the dragon so they can become the dragons’ riders.”

“Tested? By whom?”

Lord Merryl’s eyes crease a little on each corner when he smiles. “The dragons themselves, of course. They choose their riders.”

“H-how? How do the dragons choose their partners?”

“The Dragon King and his court rule the land to this day, and they set up the rules which made bonding between a human and dragon possible to happen. The Dragon King rules from his home castle. Together with his court, he leads the ceremony where a rider is chosen by inviting the chosen ones to the King’s castle,” he explains with a slight nod towards the castle above.

Tilting your head, you try to picture a whole court testing out the chosen townspeople to find the right person to ride a certain dragon. Throwing a quick glance at the dark castle above, you are beginning to understand why the dragons seem to consider the property as their home.

“When a dragon requires a rider, whether it is because the dragon itself has come to age or if their previous rider has passed their time—be it from old age or if they have passed on—the King’s court will summon a few selected candidates for a new rider and have them tested, both physically and mentally, in front of the court and the dragon that is to become their partner.”

Leaning back, you can feel your jaw setting into a hard line, something that you have to do to keep your mouth from gaping in awe. “Sounds like a rigorous process. And you said that the riders have many years of training?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Lord Merryl nods again. “You are correct. Becoming a rider of the dragons is an important task for us. It gives us a purpose in life and a privilege to care for our land.”

You cannot help but smile, because it does sound like a privilege to bond with these Ancient beings. To be trusted enough to work alongside them.

“And what happens when one isn’t chosen? Or does that not happen, since you said everyone had to be prepared for it?”

“The rest of us run the town,” he says, nodding out the window where you can see the people lounging around the small patch of garden at the center of the town square. You only notice now upon closer observation that each person wears proper attire showing their roles in this town—shopkeepers, waitresses, and a few people who look like physicians and scholars.

“Sometimes, we even get work in the castle to serve the Dragon King as he is very, very old,” he says with his grin deepening when he takes in your reaction, “or they can serve the Ancient Gods and the Moon as the priests and priestesses, even though not many of us pray at the temples nowadays.”

“What about you? Are you also a rider?”

“I used to,” he answers with a gentle voice. The pride you see in his eyes seems genuine. Only this time, there is a hint of longing in them. A reminiscence of the past that he misses the most. “I was for a long time, and then I retired once I was too old to be up there in the sky, and Alastair, my dragon, chose my oldest son to replace me.”

Unable to hide your astonishment, you let your smile grow as you picture him up there, flying with his dragon. “Does that happen a lot—to have someone who is your kin to replace your position?”

“Only with the ones who are deeply bonded with their riders, and I’ve become bonded with Alastair after riding with him for a long time. I was only eighteen when I was chosen, so it felt like I grew into adulthood with him by my side.” He briefly looks out the window with a faraway look in his eyes, as if he is looking into the past that has been engraved in his memory.

“But it didn’t mean that my son had it easy,” he continues with a chuckle. “He still had to go through the same tests to earn Alastair’s trust. Alastair is quite an old dragon himself. Winning his trust was a hard feat and my son had to prove his worth in front of the court until Alastair was pleased enough to bond with him.”

Just then, two dragons glide across the ravine. One has scales in the shade of purplish-black and the other dark tan. The latter looks slightly smaller than the other. Neither has a rider on them, yet the bigger one has something similar to a horse saddle attached on its back, almost blending into their scales.

Another question sparks through your mind as your curiosity grows. “But where do you ride these dragons to?”

“The knights will journey with the dragons to patrol around the mountains, keeping this place and its castle safe from harm. Some will go flying across the nearby lands that are still under E’l Alora’s territory in search of resources, while others fly with them down there,” Lord Merryl replies, tilting his head towards the ravine.

Your brows immediately rise. “What—down into the ravine?”

Lord Merryl seems to enjoy seeing your expression when you are left in shock and he chuckles deeply. “Inside that dark ravine are mines—lots of them. Most of the ones who are chosen to ride the dragons are miners, while some others become knights who serve to protect our land and its people,” he explains.

”The dragons who work alongside the miners will fly us down there and lend us their powers to open up the mines, dig through the rough terrains, fly our workers into the deep to gain the resources found deep within the mountains, and then bring our quarries back to the surface.”

While your mouth drops open, he continues, “These mines were discovered many centuries ago by our ancestors—mages and elves who built their homes here in the mountains. The same ancestors who first built a deep connection with the dragons. They taught us how to maintain the mines without ruining the mountains and communicate with the dragons so we can nurture this land and the mountains together for both our gains.”

“Mines?” You try to picture it in your mind, an elaborate mining system hidden in the depth of the chasm. Something which your book has failed to mention. “And what do you gain from these mines?

Lord Merryl leans forward onto the table just then, waving out the window as an open carriage passes by down the street. Its driver, sitting on the front bunk with his hands on the horse’s rein waves back. His gloves are tainted in black—a similar shade to the pile of minerals filling the back of the carriage to the brim.

“Minerals, like iron ores and other metals that are then made into weapons and armours. Stones to build our homes and the streets we have here in town. And various kinds of gemstones.” He settles back in his seat, his gaze falling onto the ruby amulet hanging from your neck. “Just like the one you are wearing now.”

Startled, your hand comes up to your necklace. The ruby amulet hasn’t been giving you any obvious reaction since you got into town, yet it seems to shimmer under the soft lights illuminating the tavern.

“These mines are the reason why this town exists. It shapes the lives of the people here. Those not chosen as riders will also work to develop the quarries we gain from the mines and make a business out of selling the raw materials and the goods that come out of them. We have blacksmiths working on the iron and metals, builders processing the stones, and artisans working on the gemstones. We often trade goods with other cities, so that might be where you had gotten your stone from.”

Your mind travels back to Aeris, remembering how you have found different kinds of goods which were made of materials that you have never seen before. Weapons and armouries made of irons that are unbreakable and highly resistant to flame and magic attacks. Leather goods which appeared almost as if they were made of materials similar to the skin of the flying dragons. Amulets made with gemstones and metals that the shopkeepers claimed to have been ‘acquired from esteemed sources’ which would be able to be imbued with any kind of magic and spells.

Running the tips of your fingers across your necklace, your mind travels back to the shopkeeper of l'Équinoxe, reminding you of what she said to you about the necklace.

“Seems like your necklace was crafted many years ago, and the ruby is a specific kind of gemstone that is rarely found nowadays in modern cities like ours.”

Clearing your throat, you cannot help but ask, “How old do these dragons get, if I may ask?”

“They live a very long age. The Dragon King has lived almost as old as the Ancient beings you read in your books. Alastair was born around the same time my great-great-grandfather came to this world,” he fondly speaks about his former partner. “There are older dragons that are still around, and young ones—as young as my youngest. More dragons are still being born in the present day, even though they are born a few years or decades in between.”

It would have been hard to imagine if you hadn’t seen them with your own eyes—the different sizes that the dragons appear in seem to determine their ages, which are also so clearly discernible from the lines and ridges of the skin and the sizes of their horns.

“That’s truly remarkable.”

Your gaze meets with one of the locals who is walking past by the window looking in. Wearing a thin, dark-coloured chest armour marks him as one of the knights that Lord Merryl had mentioned. He greets you with a short nod which you return with a smile.

“You said that you haven’t gotten a lot of visitors lately. Don’t travellers often come by here?” you ask Lord Merryl, even if deep down, you can already guess what his answer would be.

It would have been hard for a place like E’l Alora to be kept secret, forgotten, except for the stories and myths that have been written in the books. Not when they are still producing matters and goods that are spread within this realm. “What happens when you need to trade your goods? Your products? How do you provide for the people?”

Lord Merryl grows silent, but it appears that your question had amused him dearly, judging from the glint you see in your eyes. “I’ve had a feeling that you aren’t just any regular traveller,” he surmises with a smile. “You seem to know more about what it takes to manage your people.”

This is quite unexpected. It’s not often that you are made to feel like you are being stripped down, of being forced to reveal the truth behind your disguise as an anonymous traveller. The only times you ever felt this way were during those moments you came face to face with Yoongi, when he seemed to be able to look through your facade. For him to look deep enough that you felt seen.

“Sometimes one can learn so much through the experiences and the people they encounter in their journey,” you find yourself answering.

Which isn’t a complete lie. Throughout the weeks you spent exploring new places through the portals, you have learned much more than what you are taught under your tutors’ guidance.

“That is the reason why I travel to different places in the first place,” you continue to admit, both to yourself and your kind host, “You can say that I’ve been going to places in search of knowledge. Anything that I can bring home and make use to guide me through life.”

“Speaking like a true intellectual.” Lord Merryl lets out a deep chuckle. “You have earned my most respect, young, mysterious scholar.”

Having no idea what to say to that, you simply laugh it off.

“It has been long since outsiders come to visit us. For leisure, that is,” Lord Merryl continues after a beat of silence passes. “A long, long time ago, this used to be a prosperous land. E’l Alora was highly regarded not only as the dragons’ lair, but a small kingdom ruled by the Dragon King, notorious for his powers, magic, and old wisdom left behind by the Ancient beings who created the realm. His knowledge, together with the treasures hidden in the mountains, were all parts of the legacy left behind by our ancestors.”

“What happened?”

Lord Merryl lets out a sigh. “Have you learned about the war?”

Your back stiffens as your mind works hard to file through everything you have learned so far.

It wouldn’t be wrong for you to assume that he is talking about a war happening in this fairy-tale realm, a topic that you are still learning from your tutors. But for some reason, those lessons aren’t the ones running through your thoughts right now. What comes to mind instead is the only story of the war that you spent your entire teenage years learning back at the Citadel.

The history behind the rise of Nythelean Empire.

You recall the story which spoke of how your father survived the fall of his previous empire, how he managed to move his family, his army, and his people to safety. How he found shelter beyond the Elcester Forest—which you have learned to be one of the few hidden passageways connecting both realms—and under the protection of Mount Orrum, to later use the rough terrain of the mountains to defeat his enemies.

A narrow victory which left a deep wound in your father’s soul as it came with a price—losing his home and the one person he loved the most.

You are beginning to suspect that the old war may have something to do with this magical place, knowing what you know now, that Stargrave is still a part of Nythelean’s territory. There are still so many things that you have yet to learn, so many to unravel if you truly want to know more about your true home and your legacy, but so little time has been given for you to catch up with what you have missed.

“Not much of what was left from the old times, I’m afraid,” you admit while wondering inwardly, especially nothing about the wars happening in this realm. “Nothing more than what I’ve read in the books, which I’m sure has been made distorted enough through the years that followed.”

A nod. He doesn’t question you further before finally sharing his story. A small part of history still unbeknownst to you.

“It was many decades ago when the war erupted in this part of the realm, affecting only the sacred lands and kingdoms that worshipped the moon and its magic. The war was known to be the Great Siege, when a small kingdom suddenly grew strong enough to rise into an empire, and challenged other—older—empires to kneel before them. They came to siege many sacred lands, places built by the Ancient beings that we all know to be our ancestors, to take and conquer as much land as they could.”

Lord Merryl’s eyes are filled with grief and sorrow that you feel guilty for making him talk about the past. But at the same time, you want to take this chance to learn more about this place. And perhaps, you can learn more about the history that you have never studied before.

“Must I assume the war reached this land also?”

Lord Merryl nods. “Indeed,” he says. “At first, we had no reason to join the war, as we never had any direct connection or alliance with other kingdoms, until they came pushing at our borders, demanding us to submit to their king.” He grits his jaw tightly with anger as he speaks of their old enemy, and you can feel the pure rage coming out of him.

“The Dragon King refused to stand down, and neither did the people living here, so we defended our land the best we could. Many dragons had fallen during that war, so did the humans who fought alongside the dragons to protect this land.”

Just then, his expression seems to shift. The deep, sorrowful grief is still there, but there is a hint of pride and longing in his eyes as he talks about those moments during the war. You had seen this same look before, when your father talked about your mother and the old days he spent together with you and your mother when life was peaceful and free.

“We fought our best, and while we didn’t come out as victors, once the war ceased, any direct connection we had with the outer world was severed at the hands of the Dragon King and his court,” Lord Merryl continues, “it was his way of protecting his homeland, what was left of his kingdom, and the dragons and the people surviving the war.”

As you continue to listen, something about what he just said tickles your brain, making you wonder what it is about his story which puts you in such unease. Something about it felt quite familiar, yet you cannot seem to put your finger to remember how.

“Ever since then, E’l Alora became nothing more but a myth. The dragons who fought the war and the surviving ones you see now are known as mythical beasts that only exist in your history books and old scriptures, believed to have been extinct after the war.”

Just like how it was portrayed in the book, you bitterly wonder, as your fingers curl around the hardcover of the book that you have on your lap, while Lord Merryl’s eyes glimmer in anguish. “When in reality, they still exist, surviving, protecting their home and their people, keeping themselves in this dark, secluded place for as long as they need to be.”

His voice then shifts into a more hopeful tone as he carries on. “We do whatever we can to survive through the shift of time, just as you expected we would, for us to sustain our way of living,” Lord Merryl says with a teasing tone, drawing a smile to your face. “Our farms aren’t as vast or as prosperous as others, but we make what we do with the limited resources that are hidden beyond these mountains.”

As Lord Merryl nods towards the rocky mountains across the ravine, you finally understand what he meant earlier when he spoke about the dragons and their riders going around the land beyond the mountains. You picture them exploring beyond those rocky peaks to a land of green that is hidden from view, filled with crops and other sustenance for the townspeople of E’l Alora.

“We also have our local merchants who would travel in and out of the territory through a hidden route that only the townspeople know about as they make trades of our products with goods from other places beyond the borders. Most of our remaining neighbours and alliances are loyal when it comes to keeping us hidden, making sure our trade wouldn’t risk our secret from spreading out. That is how we are surviving today.”

With another nod, he points at the crest that you kept on looking at earlier. The insignia left behind by The Brotherhood of Jorn. “The only outsiders that we have ever welcomed so far are the mercenaries. We have some of our former knights and dragon-riders-to-be who decided to join the mercenary army to travel to different places while helping us to keep up with what has been going on in the realm. They also act as the middlemen between us and the outer world, allowing us to keep our home hidden from any sort of threat from outside our borders.”

Looking at the crest, you are beginning to see them in a new light. The stories and rumours that you have once heard from your father’s men continue to echo through your head whenever you look at them. But now, it feels like you are looking at a different side of the mercenary group which many others may not have been able to see.

“Aside from these trusted people, the townspeople aren’t exactly easy to trust strangers. Even those who knew anything about this place and dared enough to travel this far wouldn’t be so bold to enter a territory filled with cautious townspeople, much less living dragons.”

“I—but I didn’t see all of that when I first got here,” you admit to him as you recall the way they had all treated you when you first entered the town. “The townspeople I’ve come across with have been quite friendly. Even though I did catch some who seemed wary of my presence and kept their distance, there weren’t so many that would have made me feel unsafe or uncomfortable.”

Chuckling softly, the man nods his head. “That’s just how our people are, perhaps. Most of us still retain the same hospitality we had in the past, or perhaps the long period of time we spent living in solitude has made us long to have a connection to the outer world which we’ve lost.”

In a way, you can see it. Your own experience of living in constant hiding, years spent in a life similar to being hidden in a shroud, has made you long for something similar. Had that been the reason why you felt so connected with Yoongi since the first time you met him? Because you were so lonely that his presence instantly filled the void that you harboured inside?

“But most of us are adequate judges of characters. So do the dragons, in fact. If anyone sensed that you came bringing danger with you, then you wouldn’t have been welcomed with such hospitality.” A pause, and his gaze suddenly drifts down, stopping at your necklace. “Your necklace may have also turned to your favour in finding your way to our homeland. Just as I mentioned, the gemstone looks like one acquired from our mines. For us, it would be easy to recognise something that was obtained from our land.”

On instinct, your hand moves to grab onto your amulet. Its glow reflecting on Lord Merryl’s face, which seems to be the reason why his attention keeps being drawn to it. “You think that the necklace guided me here?”

He slowly nods. “I’d like to believe that there may be forces leading you to find a way to this place. For what reason, that is yet to be determined,” he says with a gentle smile, while your mind wanders back to how you found the magic door the first time.

Looking back to it now, you realise that there is no such thing as a coincidence that the door revealed its true form when you passed by the hall earlier. You wonder what kind of force played a hand in you finding this place, to be following the trail that leads you to where your magic necklace seems to have come from.

The same way you did when you found your way to Aeris.

Lord Merryl’s gaze lingers on your necklace while you are in deep thought. His voice draws you back to him when he muses, “That necklace—must have been something special for you.”

Twisting the ruby amulet between your fingers, a tiny wave of grief washes over you. “It’s—it was handed down to me by my mother.” The only thing of hers that you get to keep, you realise as sadness fills the cavity in your chest. “I was made to promise to keep it in my person every time I am to leave home. It was said that the necklace is meant to protect me.”

Looking up, you are surprised to see a slight change happening in Lord Merryl’s gaze. There is something there for a moment. A look which reminds you of the way Lord Gordan looked the last time you talked to him about your mother—recognition, longing, mixed with a hint of sorrow.

“Perhaps protection isn’t the only thing that has been ingrained in your necklace,” he says, just as that ineffable look in his eyes fades before you get to find the meaning behind it. “Some amulets can serve as a guide, showing you which directions to take and helping you to find what it is that you are searching for in need be.”

“That is possible,” you whisper. “That’s right. In this realm, anything is possible.”

Even the impossible, you wonder, as you marvel at how peculiar your life has been ever since you crossed the realm.

Silence falls between you for a brief moment, until a movement catches your attention and your eyes drift towards the open window again. Just as the old, largest dragon that had guided you here earlier suddenly appears, gliding gracefully across the chasm at a slow, leisurely pace.

From this close distance, you get to see the details of its midnight-black scale and the row of pointed horns framing its head, going back to its spine and then disappearing across its long swishing tail. Its crimson eyes are widely opened, almost as if it has sensed your presence and is now trying to find you among the mortals living in this town.

But when the dragon circles back and slows down almost to a halt right in front of the tavern, its gaze flickering to where Lord Merryl is sitting, your lips tip up to a smile.

“Alastair?”

Lord Merryl chuckles softly as he nods, greeting the giant dragon who responds to his former rider with a deep, long trill before he then takes flight. The flap of his wings sends a wave of thick dust across the town square and onto the tavern’s walls, drawing a series of laughter from the people who are lounging outside.

“He got curious and came by to say hello,” Lord Merryl says with a deep chuckle while sounding like he is talking about an old friend that he dearly respects and cares for the most. His smile widens when you softly laugh along with him. It makes you feel giddy on the inside, completely amused that the mighty dragon has chosen to acknowledge your presence in his home.

Last night, your dream brought you to a different place.

Instead of finding yourself standing on the top of a cliff, looking down at a thriving land of greens with crystal-like rivers and posh structures in white, you saw yourself walking up a hill covered with a widespread of green grass.

Perched gracefully atop the verdant hill is a temple that appeared almost twice as high as the local churches you had often seen in the capital city of Smotia. With structures built from bone-coloured stones, the temple appeared like a sculpture of light under the cerulean sky.

In your dream, you were as barefoot as always as you walked the winding path leading towards the entrance of the temple. Flanked by whispering trees and blooming wildflowers, their vibrant hues appeared as muted as the sunlight warming your skin.

Approaching the temple, you were greeted by the grand staircase covered in the same bone-coloured stones which formed the temple’s structure. Each step of stairs felt both cold and smooth under your feet as you slowly made your way up. As you came to the entrance foyer, you were welcomed by majestic columns of white lining up the halls, rising to support the roof that seemed to touch the heavens. The massive entrance door stood at the center of a stone wall adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes from myth and legends—most of them you have seen depicted in your history books.

Upon entering through the threshold, you were greeted by the cool, tranquil interior and a faint scent of waning incense. The temple was empty, aside from the flickering candlelights that aligned the low dais built on each side of the walls within the grand hall.

It felt like you were drawn by an unseen force as you walked toward the center of the hall, stopping where lights filtered through from above. Looking up, you caught the sight of the dome ceiling above, made up of a thick glass that looked more like clear crystal, it allowed some sunlight to penetrate into the grand hall.

At the heart of the temple stood a grand altar draped in a layer of golden silk and adorned with garlands of fresh flowers. A marble statue of an Ancient stood at the center, surrounded by unlit candles, golden bowls filled with red wine, and golden plates filled with offerings of fruit, bread, and fragrant oils that were laid at its feet.

The walls at the far back of the hall were just as pale as the rest, yet the entire surface was covered in tapestries. Banners made of silk in pale ivory colours, each one with the symbol of the moon painted in gold in the center, insinuating that this place was where worshippers come to pray to the moon.

You tried to take another step forward, wishing to have a good look at the Ancient standing at the altar—a tall figure with long silky hair wearing the attire of a hunter, with swords attached onto either side of its hips and a set of bow and arrows hanging on its back—when a strong breeze came rushing in. It came so suddenly that you were forced to close your eyes, shutting you off from this peculiar place until the breeze faded.

Barely a minute passed as you kept your eyes closed, yet you could feel it when the world you saw slowly began to shift.

The temperature rapidly dipped. The cold breeze carried with it the same menacing scent of decay which always followed you each time these dreams ended, causing your blood to run winter-cold which had you refraining from opening your eyes.

But you rarely ever had any control of yourself—of anything at all—while you were in a dream. There was nothing stopping you from opening your eyes, to witness what had unfolded in the mere seconds that passed.

Everything that you saw previously—all the vibrant colours, the elegance that was part of this temple, and the alluring beauty which captivated you—had withered. The temple was no longer whole.

The stone pillars were now damaged and fractured in places. So did the artistic stone walls which were now filled with splinters and covered in soot. Parts of the roof were now gone, with the crystal dome partly shattered, leaving not much barrier between you and the dull-grey sky above.

The floor that had been clear and bright-coloured was now covered with dirt and dried blood, with a thin layer of fog crawling around your feet. The grandeur you saw at the altar had wilted to ruins—the flowers had dried out, the draperies and banners were charred and singed, candles were fully burned and melted, and the offerings all scattered and spilled on the floor, the bowls and plates all toppled and broken in pieces around the broken statue. The striking figure of the Ancient depicted by the statue had become shapeless, with its face chipped in multiple places and gaping fractures soiling its upper body to leave it almost completely disjointed.

Once again, you were made to witness how quick and easy it was for life to wither and wane, the unseen beauty of this unknown world fading right before your eyes, merely moments before you were pulled away to wake.

Sleep felt like nothing more but broken fragments as exhaustion weighed on you all morning since you woke up.

Not even your busy, daily routine could help get your mind out of your eerie dream when it kept returning to you whenever your mind was idle.

Fragments of last night’s dream kept coming back while Lady Laurel had you reading different passages of the books that were part of her lesson—Ancestors Of Magic, Languages Of The East, Ancients And Emperors—that would have usually piqued your interest.

Not even the etiquette and ballroom dance lessons with Lady Abigail could do much to distract you from the grim visuals of the broken temple. As someone who has known you her whole life, she didn’t miss the lack of focus that you put in her lesson that she finally gave in and sent you back to your bedchamber with her scolding,

“Rest and clear your idle mind before you hurt yourself.”

And when Lord Gordan wasn’t there for your afternoon lesson to help take your mind off of the haunting shadows of your dream, you chose not to remain in your bedchamber as advised by your governess. Instead, you stripped out of your day dress and slipped into a different attire—a pair of dark breeches and boots, with a loose tunic as your top to make it easier to move around—and marched towards the royal courtyard with your shortsword in hand, searching for a way to keep your mind from becoming idle.

Anything to keep your body and mind busy. To get the images out of your head and tire yourself out just enough so you wouldn’t dream again in the night.

Even if it meant challenging a knight or a royal guard in the middle of their sword training to have a spar with.

“You have quite an outstanding form, Your Highness,” Sir Stephan, the tan-skinned royal guard who had volunteered to be your sparring partner exclaims as he watches you return to your position after blocking his strike. “That wasn’t an easy feat to follow.”

“I told you to not underestimate me, knight,” you retort back with a smile, enjoying the adrenaline rushing through your body. It has been a while since you felt so alive, to be able to move this freely and use your entire body to its full potential the way you did when you had to practice your sword fighting with your father and his knights.

Amused, the guard’s lips twist to a smirk. “I must do well to remember not to show you such disrespect,” he says as he swings his sword back into position, showing you that he is serious.

Not that he has been taking things easy from the start.

While your arrival at the south courtyard earlier had sparked confusion and shock from the royal guards, he was the only one who didn’t look at you as if you were completely out of your mind. He was also the first to step up and volunteer when you openly asked to have a sparring session.

“I wouldn’t dare shame the royal knighthood nor Her Highness by not doing this seriously,” was his promise when you told him not to hold back, and it pleases you to see him making good on his words to you. For you to not be treated like you were made out of glass, like how other royal guards have been treating you.

Through your sparring, getting a closer look at your opponent, it didn’t take much to understand why.

At first, you recognised him as one of the royal guards who has specifically been assigned to guard you during your evening routines. With a closer look at his face and the way he swings his broadsword against your shorter one, you finally remember him as one of the guards escorting you the night you departed from the Citadel.

The same guard who slipped away from the line of escorts to fight off the unidentified figures pursuing your carriage into the Elcester Forest that night.

Your fight continues, and as he still keeps the same fortitude as he would had he been sparring against his fellow guards, you return it with all that you have.

His strikes are strong, with each clash and contact making it obvious that your sword is much lighter than the one he uses. But it doesn’t mean that you are going to make it easy for him to bring you down.

The hilt of the shortsword feels good in your hand. There is a welcomed weight in your hold as you swing it against your opponent. A presence that you hadn’t expected to be something that you have been missing the most. When you strike, your eyes are focused and your hand is firm, and you catch him by surprise when you make a quick work on your feet and make a clean swipe against him, coming close to nicking at his sharp chin before he deflects your attack with one quick swing of his sword.

A series of cheers echo from all around you as the guards witness him stumbling back. Only slightly, but enough to show that your attack is enough to rattle him.

You can tell that your sparring has gained some more audience, with the guards putting their training on hold to watch you fight one of their strongest fighters. Their voices are loud across the courtyard as they encourage the fight while taunting their comrade. It should make you feel self-conscious if only you are not too immersed in giving a good fight against the guard.

“Be careful, Stevie. Don’t want to see you lose a chance for promotion if you hurt the Princess,” you hear the captain of the guards speak from the side.

“I have a feeling that I should be the one to worry about getting hurt,” Sir Stephan jokes back to his comrade between each strike of his sword, his voice drowning under the loud clangs of the swords coming upon contact as you keep blocking his attacks.

As he slows down while responding to his comrades’ taunting laughter, you take the chance to make another move. Taking advantage of his lack of focus, you thrust your sword toward him. He blocks you with one swing and you shoot forward, spinning on your heel and swinging your hand back, slamming the hilt of your sword against his stomach. Sir Stephan recoils with a grunt upon impact.

“Oh, Fates,” he curses with a cough. A rough chuckle comes from his lips as he recovers to shout at his friends laughing at him, “Told ya.”

You quickly step away from him while everyone whistles, cheering for your move. “Stay focused, Sir Stephan. Don’t want you to actually get hurt,” you playfully taunt him as you move into position, ready to continue.

Seeing this prompts Stephan to strike first, swinging his broadsword down to your side, which you block using the back of your sword. The sound of the deep grunt escaping his lips draws more taunting from the other guards.

“Already getting tired, Stevie?”

Letting out a heavy laugh, your opponent cleverly responds without missing a beat. “I think the Princess is just a bit too tough for me to handle, that’s what.”

“Good thing you volunteered in our place since if you lose this fight, there’s no way any of us could defeat Her Highness.”

“Maybe we should recommend your early retirement, old man. Her Highness can always take your place.”

“Right on. The Princess isn’t even sweating and yet there you are trembling. Even your form isn’t right.”

Their compliments please you, even if some of it is far from the truth. You can feel sweat coming down between your brows and in between your breasts. Your breath is growing shallow, and if only any of the guards weren’t so preoccupied with keeping a close watch on each strike of sword clashing through the sparring, they would have noticed the way your legs are beginning to quiver as you block another strike from Sir Stephan’s broadsword.

As your exhaustion sinks in, what comes into your nearly idle mind is not a part of the dream that you wished so badly to forget, but the words of a wise man who has followed you home ever since your visit to E’l Alora.

“Before you go, I must be honest and admit something. Lest I regret it in case we never meet again,” was what Lord Merryl said to you last night before you left E’l Alora to return home. The look that he was giving you then stayed in your mind until you came back to the castle. “You remind me of someone.”

“Someone you knew?”

His lips twitched to a soft smile. “Long ago, before the war, before this land became as secluded as the way it is now, we used to have travellers coming through our town, often staying with us for a time to experience life here as our guests. There was one who Alastair and I had the privilege to get acquainted with during that time. A female traveller who claimed to be a scholar and was travelling through sacred lands in search of knowledge about the Ancients, much like you.” Once again, you saw a glimpse of longing in his eyes as he spoke. “She looked quite like you, and I am quite sure she was around your age when she frequently came to visit us.”

Then his longing gaze fell on your necklace for one last time. “And she was wearing a necklace similar to yours.”

Sir Stephan’s sudden strike snaps you back to the present. His move isn’t as fast as his previous offences, but the blow of his sword rattles your entire arm the moment it makes contact with yours. You barely manage to deflect his attack, the clash between swords and the force that he uses pushing you back a step. Yet you are still capable of cutting his blow, even if it comes with a cost.

Your knees buckle as you pull your sword back. Snapping your sword down, you stab its tip onto the ground to keep you from falling on your knees.

“Your Highness, is everything all right?” Sir Stephan calls out gently, sounding concerned. Yet he makes no move to approach you, something which you respect coming from him.

Laughing nervously, you straighten up and shake your head. “Seems like I was right all along. I’m quite out of practice.”

The guard looks relieved to hear this. His lips twist into something which resembles a pride smile. “For the record, you are still much better than some of the guards here,” he compliments you as he slowly lowers his sword. “And in a much better shape as well, seeing that you are still standing on your two feet.”

“I take it as a compliment.” Sheathing your sword, you bow your head slightly towards him. “Thank you for lending me your time. We should do this again next time.”

Lifting his sword and crossing it against his chest, Sir Stephan greets you with a formal bow. “I’ll be ready to spar with you again, Your Highness. If ever you need to.”

You turn to greet the other guards with a slight bow before turning away to leave. Behind you, the captain of the royal guards begins rounding up his men to resume their sword training. The sounds of them shuffling back into their position and the clanging of swords follow your departure.

Except for Sir Stephan.

Even without looking over your shoulder, you can feel the heat of his gaze pressing on your back. It shouldn’t bother you so much to have him watching you go, as he is simply doing his duty as your guard ever since the Citadel. Yet it suddenly feels unsettling how familiar his presence feels for you, even as you put distance between you.

He reminds you of someone. Of a moment in time that is lost in your memory. Yet your mind is too exhausted and you are too weary to figure out how.

You try not to dwell on it as you make your way around the small rising leading to the West Tower. Avoiding the side corridor where the entrance of the tower is located, you choose to walk a bit further towards the door hidden behind the hill.

At this time of the day, this side of the tower is quiet. Only the palace maids use this access door, yet you have learned enough to know that none would be passing here during the time they are finishing most of their late afternoon duties.

Crossing the threshold, you arrive in a small hall connected to the long winding stairwell going up to the upper floors. Amongst them is the corridor leading towards your bedchamber, where you can finally rest—both your mind and body—for the day.

Your mind is once again idle as you begin to ascend the stairs. Idle due to exhaustion, yet still enough to silence all thoughts and wonders.

For a moment, you feel hopeful about dragging yourself towards your bed, even if your legs still tremble while you climb up the stairs. The shortsword feels as if it has gained weight as it keeps bumping against your thigh in your journey back to your quarters.

Yet in that comforting silence, your senses are on high alert. Sharpened enough to feel a peculiar sensation rising within that stairwell.

A feeling that is quite similar to what you have often felt whenever you come across any silver doors hiding your father’s magic portals.

Curious, you begin to proceed cautiously. The logical part of your mind is telling you that it might just be in your head. There is nothing up there other than the long corridors of the west wing of Stargrave, where your bedchamber is placed.

As you continue going up the stairs, there is really no mistaking it—the soft hum of magic reverberating through the air, beckoning you to come close.

With one hand wrapped around the hilt of your sword, and the other reaching up to touch the silver key hanging on your necklace—placed together alongside your ruby amulet to make sure that you would keep it close to you at all times—you continue to proceed.

Right before you reach the floor connecting you to your private quarters, you arrive at a landing.

There, right to your left, appears a small archway that seems to have been built into the wall. Similar to the door which took you to E’l Alora, it appears like nothing more but a wall ornament. It seems impossible for it to serve as a door. Not at this part of the tower, when the small windows placed on either side of it are showing you a massive fall towards the shoreline below.

At the center of the archway, what seems to be a carved wall ornament appears to be a plate made up of old wood. It has silver hinges on one side—the only sign allowing you to identify it as a door—and floral embellishments pressed across the surface. The silver embellishments are marred by patches of reddish-brown rust, hiding the silver shine under the uneven, flaky crust spreading on its surface.

Standing before it, you realise that the humming spell is more muted here compared to the ones you have heard and felt from the other magic doors. Yet the sensation you feel all through your body is just the same.

Your racing heartbeat. The pulse of warmth surging through your skin. Even the way your necklace is vibrating against your skin feels just the same.

Cautiously, you slip the key off of your necklace. With a deep breath, and your curiosity rising, you silently pray that the door truly opens to another magic portal instead of sending you plunging into the rough sea below.

The key fits perfectly in the keyhole and it opens with one click, immediately opening as if there is an unseen force helping you to reveal what is hidden beneath. The ripple of magic which appear in the form of a blue mirror manifests right before your eyes, opening the way for your next adventure.

“I suppose there is no rest for today”—you sigh—“yet. Here we go.”

The flow of magic engulfs you as you take a step into the portal. It clings onto your body like a cold glove, causing tingles on your skin while your heart palpitates as your own mana reacts to it. This time, the humming spell sounds more like chants of prayers. Still spoken in a language that you are unable to comprehend.

Your journey across lasts only for a blink of an eye before the heels of your boots land on solid ground. A cold breeze washes over you, filled with the scents of moss and petrichor. Not in the kind which you would often find in the countryside, but more at places that are mostly deserted—like castle ruins or abandoned churches, perhaps unexplored caves in the wild.

Releasing a deep exhale of breath, you open your eyes, only to have the rest of it getting knocked right out of your chest. As if reality comes crashing on you with a hard punch as you realise where you are.

You have emerged right in the heart of an old temple.

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krysta-cross · 1 year

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I made a story for mage Rain to practice my writing, I mindlessly typed everything that came up and here it is. Feel free to read and tell me what you think ^^

Don’t Rain on my parade

You’re new to the Outworld Exclusive Academy of Sorcery alongside a few chosen students waiting for the head mage to give you all a warm welcome and help you settle in.

You really didn’t think you will be picked out when you submitted your application, knowing how this esteemed head mage is very strict and doesn’t take students with low average or less promising and is known for being brutal with his tests.

You view yourself as an average neophyte, studying by the books and trying it out. Sometimes you succeed but many times you fail as it requires extreme focus and concentration which you find hard to do because the place you live in is noisy and always bustling so you decide to take your chance and send your letter in, praying to the gods to grant you this once in a lifetime chance to practice magic on a proper school, away from the distractions and now, you still can’t wrap your head around the fact that you are standing here, waiting for the welcome and orientation from the head mage and his colleagues.

“Breath in, breath out. Compose yourself. You don’t want them to think you are a weakling by trembling on your first day!” you silently murmured to yourself, trying to calm your nerves as you wait.

“The head mage is here!” you heard your fellow starters say as a man wearing a hooded clothing in purple and yellow with golden linings walked in. Your gaze fixed on him and you immediately noticed that he has a perfect physique and strong commanding presence as he eyes all of you that are standing there, seemingly gauging you and your abilities already which made your building nervousness rise up again and you felt suffocated as his eyes met yours and the seconds that you are eye to eye felt like the longest 10 seconds of your life. While his presence is enough to send shivers, you find yourself admiring his looks. His tanned skin and bulky strong arms sticking out from his sleeveless clothing, your mind wanders how does it feel being held by them. His face half-hidden by his mask is also a sight of delight. His dark eyes and nose bridge are so sexy you wish you can pull that hood down and get rid of his mask so you can fully appreciate his godly features. When his gaze went back to you, you fail to notice as your mind is busy appreciating his appearance and wanders on your fantasies which are abruptly cut off as he speak.

“We have a few new fledglings here I see, I officially welcome you to the Outworld Academy of Magic. I expect more from you from here on out! If you have doubts or think you can’t fulfill the qualifications we have set, you are free to walk out now!” the head mage announced while his eyes roam around you, who stands in front of him. You look at your fellow newbies and see that some of them can’t look at the head mage straight and some of them looks nervous, you feel it too but you took a deep breath to lessen the lump like weight obstructing your airways.

He broke the defeaning silence since he arrived “Very well, I see everyone here are confident of themselves and their abilities so let’s put it to a test!” he said and waved his staff around, there’s a water vortex that appeared and he looked at us “Try to hit me at least once or deflect my attack using your magic, anyone who gets hit directly will have to go into extra training! Just so you know, I never go easy on anyone, not even novices like you as the real world never goes easy on you just because your new and inexperienced.”

The neophytes quickly scatter as they think of strategies on how to attack and defend against the impending attack.

You immediately ran behind a statue nearby while others hid behind trees and pillars.

The head mage started shooting water orbs and you saw it go through the thick body of the tree, hitting the person behind and his cry of pain seared through your ears, cementing the fact that the head mage’s reputation of being strict and not giving any handicap even for newbies were not merely hearsays.

You immediately held on to the statue and enforce your magic on it to harden it and morph some parts like stone daggers hidden so you can attack him. You also took some water from the nearby fountain and made little orbs that you controlled to crawl on the grass, masking their existence.

You closely watch your fellow mages fight against this ruthless man as he takes them down one by one, you can tell even under that mask that there’s a sly smirk painted on his face as his target falls.

You swallowed a bit of your saliva as you see him nearing your hiding spot, after he brought down the nearest student nearby where you are, you were surprised how fast he has appeared in front of you, too close that his face is merely inches away from you. You got so startled that you tumbled down as he crushed the statue you enforced as your defenses with his water. As you felt the ache on your lower back from the fall, you remained focused on him because you knew taking your eyes off of him will surely be fatal. Your sharp gazes are nailed on your opponent that is now standing in front of you, his shadow blocking the sunlight like an eclipse on broad daylight.

“I like the way you stare at me like you’re out to get me. Show me what you’ve got!” he taunts as he waves his wand and tries to hit you with his water magic but you managed to pull your weight and dodge it a few seconds before it hit, leaving a little crater on the grassy ground where you were before.

“Shit! I almost got knocked out from that!” you muttered to yourself as you twist your waist and controlled the stone daggers to hit the head mage. He just trapped all 5 of them on a water wall and crushed them like biscuits in seconds.

You tried to stand up but the pain on your lower back due to the fall made you wince and put your weight down, kneeling using one of your legs and had the other bended up as you force yourself up. Your hand touched your throbbing back and felt blood trickling down from your back to your legs. You realized that you got injured when the statue was crushed and the pieces went flying around, you have fallen on one of the sharp pieces but is too busy to notice because you can’t let your focus go away from him.

“Just my luck!” you told yourself and as you raise your head up, you see him towering close to you with the same familiar smirk he flashed as he brought others down earlier. “Is that all you’ve got? If that’s it then I am utterly disappointed!” his words hit you like knives, you bit your lower lip to stop the tears from falling like raindrops, knowing that your defeat is close but your fighting spirit refuses to go down without a fight so you used all your remaining mana and waved your fingers using your blood stained hand behind your back to order the water hiding on the grass to shoot like bullets as your last attack in hopes one of it should be able to land the target.

The head mage was surprised with your attack but managed to block all of the water bullets going his way. As he is busy with it, you used the last of your energy to form 5 blood bullets from your own trickling blood and send them his way, he saw them and blocked but one of the bullets managed to slip in and hit him on his cheek but due to weak force, it looks like it was just splattered on his face. You smiled as your vision becomes slowly blurred due to exhaustion and blood loss but you knew you won. The electrifying feeling of success ran all over your body, sending tickles from your chest down to your foot soles.

You saw him wipe of that blood of his cheek using his palm and letting out a laugh as he approaches where you are slumped, with your hands supporting your body not to fall back.

“I didn’t expect that at all but you’ve done a very good job, I will now personally train you so better be ready. By the way, you can call me Rain. Can you give me your name, you sly little vixen?” your energy is slowly escaping your body but you still managed to hear everything he said. “My name is Y/N, I’ll be in your care then, master Rain…” you answered weakly and passed out, reaching the limits of your already exhausted body.

Rain immediately caught you before you hit the ground, you’re unconscious to even see the look in his face as he saw your blood dripping down from your open wound and painting the grass as he lifted you up. He used his water magic to block your wound and temporarily stop you from bleeding out, the rapid draining of color from your face worried him “Y/N, nice name. It fits you and your looks. I like that, looking forward to what you can do and show me.” Rain said as he walks out, carrying you to his quarters to treat your wounds.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat fandom #rain x reader #mk rain #mage rain x reader

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meownotgood · 3 months

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let us live, if we must die. / chapter one: fate entwined

You are a witch, and since the purging of all magic, you've been forced to live a life of solitude and secrecy. Your destiny was always beyond your control — until, by a pure twist of fate, you unknowingly fell for the kingdom's only prince.

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pairing: prince!aki x witch!reader

word count: 5.3k

tags: fantasy au, royalty au, reader is fem, lots and lots of initial worldbuilding, essentially reader is a mage in a world where magic is forbidden, reader has a very well-established backstory, aki is there but you'll be seeing more of him later. warning: some darker themes in this chapter + blood mention

notes: here we go!! mostly establishing reader and the world here... you'll be seeing aki's cute face more after this, I promise. I hope you like it, and please look forward to the chapters to come... 💞

masterlist read on ao3 join the taglist here!

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is love like the sea

will it wash me to the shore

or drown me with it?

—

You knew you should have cast a spell for better weather.

As crows shake the swaying trees when they flutter into the air, cawing and dotting the sky with speckles of black, you're drawn to tilt your head upward. Dark knots of gray clouds obscure the sun, blocking its light. Thunder rolls ominously overhead. You breathe a quiet tsk to yourself. The cool air smells of that familiar, earthen promise of rain. Turning back to your work, you hurry to collect the rest of the patch of colorful mushrooms, grabbing fistfuls and stuffing them into your pack.

It was a beautiful day mere hours ago. Sunshine warmed your skin in plentiful rays, before the clouds had taken over. If you were at all aware of a coming storm, you wouldn't have spent so much time dilly-dallying. Your preparations would have been completed way faster. You would have made sure to leave the cottage much, much sooner — No, if you'd known about the rain, it wouldn't have stormed to begin with.

You can't cancel out a downpour entirely. Such a feat is impossible, even for the most experienced of mages. The world can't be broken, no matter the strength of a mage's will — but it can bend. You could have pushed the storm back to the next day, at the very least. It would have given you the time you needed to forage, and you simply would've opted to stay inside tomorrow.

Damn it all. It's no use worrying about what has already been done. You need to hurry. Your distraction spell will wear off in the rain.

You snap the buckle on your pack shut, rising to your feet while clumsily slinging both straps over your shoulders. You shiver; the first droplets of water hit each blade of grass, they tap against your bare arms and the top of your head, but you're already running. You're taking off through the dense forest, following the well-known path you took on your way in.

Leaves flatten under your feet. Running against the strengthening wind, you feel goosebumps kiss your arms and your legs. You run and pant and run some more, until you can finally see the faint, warm light of your cottage, shining through the forest like a beacon of assurance. Trees taper off into a large clearing, with your cottage at the very center.

Your spell dispels on its own. A cool wave rushes over your body, the magic fading, before disappearing. Thankfully, you've made it home, just in time.

The wooden door of your cottage creaks when you slam it shut behind you. Your kitchen is warm. Blessedly warm. You take a moment to catch your breath: your chest heaving, palms on your knees, the fireplace crackling. You toss your heavy pack onto the kitchen counter with a huff, and you plop down in a wooden dining room chair. Thunder splinters, the sound loud and forceful. Rain blankets the cottage's roof, pattering to a persistent, calming rhythm.

You need to stop having close calls like this.

What would have happened to you, if you were out in the woods for even a moment longer? It's not that you doubt your skills. Your magic is versatile. A damn good defense and offense, despite your chosen spells functioning passively, for the most part. Without anyone to assist you, you're still capable enough to hold your own against a handful of demons, should they choose to attack you. But a whole horde of them?

The kind that live in these woods aren't like the ones you learned to deal with when you were younger. These demons are resilient. They're smarter. They stay hidden, until the chance arises to enter a fight they're sure to win. You've seen the prey they hunt. Despite their small footprints — six footprints for each, meaning six legs with clawed feet — they've been taking out magical beasts nearly twice their size.

Great Elk, mostly. Nearly nothing is left of their flesh by the time you find them, making for quite the grim scene. No matter how many times you see it, your stomach still churns. The creatures boast a gigantic set of horns, and you'll harvest parts of them for yourself, to keep your mind off things. You're appreciative of what those elk can provide for you, in death. That'll be your fate, if you ever screw up.

In a way, it's a double-edged sword. The forest is what protects you, those demons are what keep anyone from venturing close enough to discover you here. At the same time though, they prove a danger to you every single day.

You wish this wasn't how you had to live. Of course you want to be safer, happier; who wouldn't?

Gazing up at the long shadows on your ceiling, your mind brews with the same darkness as the rumbling storm clouds. The patter of rain only seems to worsen the longer you stay sitting there. Your stomach grumbles. Darkness looms in the expanse beyond your cottage, as the sun begins to set, allowing itself to be swallowed by the thick clouds and the horizon. Finally, you sigh. You stop your sulking to sit up, and you head for the kitchen to sift through what you collected.

You were hoping to practice potion-making, so most of the herbs you collected are for healing, not necessarily for eating. A few edible mushrooms, and the potatoes you still have leftover from yesterday will have to do.

Your knife chops the mushrooms swiftly and effectively, into small, square chunks that you scoop up in your palms to dump into a pot.

When you were much younger, you lived in the city. You haven't been there in a long, long time. Everything you learned, you had to teach yourself: how to cook, how to fight. How to hone your spells. Books taught you most of what you know now. They were your mother's, once. After she passed, with no-one left to hide you, you fled. You've kept yourself stashed away here, ever since then. The threat of discovery didn't leave you with much of a choice.

You built the cottage yourself. Magic made things relatively simple. It took some trial and error, sure, plus a few nights spent out in the dark when your preparations weren't complete yet. When it rained then, you were woken up by water dripping onto you, getting in from the gaps in the shoddy roof. It's been a long time since you first came here, since you found the farthest clearing in the depths of the forest, and decided to let it encompass the rest of your life. You've managed to make a rather nice home for yourself, you think.

By all accounts, you should have perished a long time ago. The kingdom probably assumes you did. Without magic to help shield you, to feed you, to protect you, you doubt you would've lasted long out here. Perhaps that's why most people fear it.

Where would you even go, if this wasn't how you had to live? Your hand freezes up, knife stopping midair before it can come down on a half-sliced pile of parsley. Suddenly, you realize you've hardly thought about it. Gods, if you could go anywhere, as free as the songbirds you've always been envious of, you have no clue where you'd want to go first.

You could follow the sea breeze to the ocean, allowing the wind to rustle in your feathers. You've never seen the ocean before. Or maybe you'd want to soar over the kingdom, finally, and honestly free. There would be no-one to hunt you, not a soul that could catch you. It's peaceful there. For those unlike you, at least.

To the people who live in the kingdom, the nobles and the knights and the common folk alike, you aren't human. You're less than that — You're a witch, a seer, a miscreant. You are the very reason for this world's ruin: the source of all demons, and to some, the sovereign who can lead them. Ridiculous rumors, every last one. Those creatures listen to you no more than they listen to the cries of the Great Elk they're feasting on.

Still, you don't place blame on the fearful.

More than anything, you wish things could be different. You would do whatever those people wished of you to prove you aren't what they say you are, but none of them would ever give you the chance. Your magic could help people. You want to help people, not harm them. And yet, if you were anyone else — if you were normal, if you weren't you — honestly, you'd be scared too.

Demons are horrifying. They're soulless creatures, who can take a life away in an instant, only to break whoever they wind up leaving behind. And magic, magic in the wrong hands is just as frightening.

It was innocent, at first. Elves were the first to compose spells, the demons simply came afterwards. Death plagued the land; the people's magic grew stronger, but the demons were already learning to adapt. Magic became selfish. No longer were spells used to protect, to flourish a field of crops, to create a light in an endless darkness. As the first war on demons came to a close, a new threat was quick to emerge: near unstoppable mages, wielding a darkness of their very own.

Humanity nearly destroyed itself. In the process, the magic which once brought them the closest they've ever been to the Gods, that filled them with the strength of the sun, and fell into their palms like stars — That magic is all but gone, and forcefully forgotten.

You never forgot, though.

You were a child, you hadn't seen more than six winters, and already, the patriarchs were calling for what remains of the kingdom's spellcasters to be turned in and killed. Your birth was done in secrecy, your presence hidden. You stowed away in your mother's home, while you practiced conjuring simple illusions and small sparks of flame.

Young or old, it hardly mattered to those who sought you. Your father ran. Your mother was burned. In more "lucky" cases, some people would be allowed to live — relatives of knights or officials, mostly. The regency had their tongues carved out, so that they might never speak an incantation again.

Your jaw clenches, your hand tightened around the handle of a wooden ladle. You breathe in deeply, and you force your mind to wander elsewhere. Lest you lose your appetite.

There's places you've heard of only in passing. Towns and cities where magic is not only accepted, but allowed to thrive. It certainly sounds nice. However, the logical part of you struggles to find the truth in such stories. No matter which way you look at it, everything is telling you those rumors are nothing more than traps. They'll do anything to find you, to cleanse the land of what they feel brought it to rot. They're luring you, their detestable songbird, just for the chance to finally cage you in and clip your wings, once and for all.

To remain undetected, one's magic must be sharp, and their mind ever sharper. Those were your mother's words, at least. She taught you to stay focused, to be smart, and you most certainly are.

You aren't unhappy, per se, when it comes to living like this. You're safe, and that's about as much as you could ask for. You've been content for a long while, living off the forest, practicing your magic by your lonesome. It's better than stifling what you were born with. Or trying to be someone you're not, allowing the imminent risk of capture to remain hovering over your head. No, you aren't really free. Perhaps you never will be. But this is the closest you think you'll ever get to it.

The cottage is home. A lonely form of home, sometimes. No-one visits you. You'll talk to yourself when moments grow too quiet, just to fill the gnawing empty space. You aren't the kind of mage who can speak with animals, and even if you could, there isn't much to converse with; the demons have slowly begun to drive out most docile species.

Gods, you miss the kingdom. You miss when you could see the castle from your bedroom window, stone towers reaching so high into the sky, you swore they were touching the clouds. Lanterns shone from every window once night fell, glowing brighter than any of the stars in the sky. A young and hopeful you would dream of becoming an honored guest, or a knight, or perhaps a princess. One day, you'd find yourself atop the heights in the castle, staring down at your old home instead.

Foolish as it is, you miss the peace that came with those childish dreams. You never got to see it, but you remember reading books and hearing stories of the times where magic was nourished, not suppressed. Now, there is nothing. You have no-one but yourself. You miss when you didn't feel so alone.

Though, for now, you should put the rest of those thoughts aside.

Dipping your spoon into the finished stew, you breathe gently to cool it down, before taking a sip. Delicious. It warms you, chasing away the growing chill from the setting sun and the raging storm. Once you're done eating, you'll clean. Then, you think you'll spend the rest of the night rereading an old grimoire, until the complicated spell descriptions paired with the lull of the rain put you right to sleep.

After fetching a bowl from the cupboard and filling it, you sit down at the dining room table. Your hands clasp in brief prayer — a force of habit, considering no plea is actually spoken, no blessing is internally asked for. You don't have anything to say to any God. Not anymore.

Thunder crackles in the distance, like it plans to split the sky open. Rain drums and echoes against the roof. You take a moment to let your stew cool off, you manage just one bite, and —

Something's tripped the mushroom circle.

With a single fast snap of your fingers, every light in your cottage goes out. The candles and lanterns flicker briefly, before they vanish. The roaring fireplace suddenly dissipates into nothingness, leaving ashen logs of wood behind. Instantly, you're enveloped in total darkness, save for the small, floating flame you produce at the end of your thumb, with a murmur under your breath of the spell ignis.

It's been awfully long since the last time you've had to do this. Your heart begins to pound in your chest, in your eardrums. Your mind races, trying to picture the possible outcomes.

Demons have been growing in number around these woods, but they wouldn't be here; they stick to the outskirts, where they've made their dens. With the rain washing away the scent left by prey, they'd go back into hiding, not wander out here.

When you established your home here, one of the first things you did was create the mushroom circle around the clearing. Using your own blood and that of the demons, you fashioned it to inform you of anything hostile that walks over, barring any docile creatures. Wildlife wouldn't have set it off, so it's surely a stray demon, it must be. It will return to its horde once it realizes there's no food here. Unless…

Flame flickering over your trembling hand, you fruitlessly try to stay deathly still. You can't hear a thing because of the rain, no footsteps and no demon snarls. Only the steady downpour, and the echo of droplets, splattering when they hit the roof above with loud, persistent thunks.

Dammit. It's been an entire minute, and the spell is still telling you there's something within the circle. Just one presence; the spell can't tell you who or what is near specifically, but you can detect each entity inside.

You sense your magic, keen and continuous, invaded by the scorching, resolute soul of another. A deep, brilliant ocean, rippling in the wake of a pebble thrown into it. And those ripples aren't stopping — They're surging through your brain and your body, with a forcefulness that bleeds nothing but blood-red danger.

Your head spins faster the longer the seconds tick into minutes. You feel dizzy. The last time this happened, the last time anything stuck around this close to the cottage for more than a minute, it wasn't a demon. It was two presences, two men. They were lost, after they had traveled many miles into the forest from the main road, looking for one of their horses. Apparently, it was spooked on the trail, and broke away from their carriage to bolt into the woods.

They didn't stay for long. You were in your cottage at the time, and you remember not wanting to open the door, but they wouldn't stop knocking and knocking. When you gave in, cracking the door open hesitantly, it was just enough to meet the first man's eyes, but not enough to let either of them see inside.

Their tone was cordial, not suspicious. We weren't expecting anyone to be living out here, so far from any nearby villages, you remember one of them remarking. The first man ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, while flashing you an easy smile. You hardly noticed, because your gaze was focused on the sheathed dagger at his hip, and the glittering pendant hanging around his neck. A menacing shiver twisted up your spine and gripped you tight.

Still, you held your ground. You told them you hadn't seen a horse, and only that. They thanked you for your time, and left soon after.

Fucking hell, those men were knights. The pendant one of them was wearing — it was silver, engraved with text and a depiction of a lion. The knights in the kingdom have that same symbol on their armor, and out of respect, they'd be the only ones allowed to wear it as a necklace.

Those men, despite the clear hostility you must have been showing them, spoke to you so kindly. They told you they'd be nearby for a while longer, and if you needed anything, you only had to ask. The blonde man gave you a polite nod, and told you to be well as the both of them left, May the Gods continue to smile upon you.

If either of them grew suspicious, or if even one of them was capable of sensing the magic your cottage was surrounded with, they would have driven their daggers into your stomach right then and there. Townspeople might hesitate, before proceeding to slit the throat of their loved one while they slept, hoping to claim some sort of bounty for dealing with another wretched spellcaster. But knights do not. They are trained not to hesitate.

Thankfully, sensing spells is something very few can do, and most never know they can. Perhaps they can feel something, but they'll attribute it to an odd uneasiness, to a brief spark they felt flicker across their skin. It couldn't be magic. Not a soul would risk an utterance of the word, because to feel magic is to be able to use magic, and for that, they are better off keeping their mouths shut.

Either way, right now, you can't risk drawing attention to yourself. That day was almost a year ago. You lucked out last time. Anyone else who approaches your cottage next might not be so quick to leave. One wrong move, and you could easily wind up dead.

So, you hold still. Very, very still. A lone cabin out in the middle of nowhere, in the pouring rain, with no lights shining from inside isn't likely to draw much attention. Anyone in their right mind would assume it was abandoned.

Whatever it is, whoever it is, you only need to wait for them to leave, and you'll be in the clear. In the wake of your spell, you can feel the strength of the intruder's presence tugging at you, burrowing into you, cold like winter's breath and absurdly, ferociously sharp — but you'll be fine. They'll be stumbling back over the mushroom circle any second now.

You're probably panicking over nothing, honestly. There's no way anyone would be this deep in the forest during this kind of storm. They'd have to be crazy, stupid, maybe utterly lost. A lost fool isn't your problem. If the storm doesn't deal with them, the demons most certainly will.

Perhaps your magic is malfunctioning. Right, you haven't used this spell in so long that you've gotten rusty, and there actually isn't anyone here, you're simply mistaken. The storm is messing with you, is all. You shouldn't panic, because you have absolutely nothing to worry about.

That would be true, if someone hadn't just knocked on your door.

The sudden sound gets you to practically jump out of your own skin. You freeze up, your breath catching in your throat. When you hear the clear pounding of a fist against the wood for a second time, your concentration slips away, and so does your fire spell. The flame you held in your fingers goes out, leaving the cottage in complete and utter darkness.

"Hello?" Oh, great, that someone is talking outside your door now, "Is anyone there?"

At a pace that could rival only the most sluggish of snails, you shakily rise from your chair, and whisper another small flame into existence to light your way. You tiptoe over to the door ever-so carefully, directing the flame to follow with a wave of your finger. Briefly, you hesitate, before another set of knocks — more hurried, this time, as though whoever's on the other side is growing just as anxious as you — has your cheek pressing against the door while you peer through the peephole.

There's a man leant on the door, your door, clutching his side, and supporting his weight with his other arm resting on the doorframe. The soft light of the moon and stars dimly illuminates him. He's shielded from the rain, underneath the roof's overhang. His clothes are simple: pants and a tunic with long sleeves, fabric clearly soaked from the continual downpour.

It isn't anything you'd place as out of the ordinary. Even commoners would most likely be donning a necklace or a pin or something that'd tie them to the kingdom. You glance the man at your door up and down once, twice, but he seems to carry nothing of the sort.

More importantly, surrounding the hand he has pressed into his side, the off-white of his tunic is stained a dark red you can recognize even in the obscured darkness. His chest heaves as he struggles to breathe, and you feel an ache twist in your gut. His hair is dark, shoulder-length, and tied in a half-up style, his messy bangs in his eyes, with a small ponytail on the back of his head. Poking out from his hair is a pair of distinct pointed ears. They're decorated by an array of studs and hoops, with black, star-shaped earrings hanging from his lobes, glittering in the moonlight.

Your protective spell wanes. When you felt the chill of his presence, and the sharpness of his soul, perhaps you were feeling a fraction of his pain.

You watch the man's jaw tighten, droplets of water dripping from his hair. He raises his fist to weakly knock at the door one more time, and when there's no answer, the bridge of his nose forms a troubled knot.

"Please, I don't mean any harm, I was-" He winces, stumbling slightly, and he sucks a painful breath in through his teeth. "I was training in the woods… and the devils- I'm just an adventurer, I'm not a mercenary. I just want to rest until this storm clears, and then I'll be on my way. I swear it."

Devils?

Wait. Your gaze flickers back up to his expression, his brows pinched slightly as he attempts to hide his discomfort. Then, you look at his side, where his hand is pressed to an obvious wound, blood staining his fingers and speckling onto the sleeve of his shirt.

This is your fault.

When you head into the woods to forage, you always cast a distraction spell on the opposite end of the forest; it'll lure demons over to it, giving you a while of temporary safety. Sometimes there are stragglers, but nothing you can't sneak around or handle yourself. Most of the demons will head towards the area you've marked, drawn by the magical rune without their control. The spell is cast directly into the ground — hence why the rain on the soil causes it to disperse.

This stranger sounds like he's telling the truth, and with the condition he's in, he doesn't have any reason to lie. About most things, anyways. You seriously doubt he's an adventurer. There isn't anything out here of interest. Just endless woods filled with endless demons. Still, he's clearly injured, clearly in need. And you can't help but take some responsibility.

If he came to the forest to train, he must've been expecting a fight he could win. The demons here are strong, but mostly in numbers. If he's at all capable, a handful of them wouldn't give him much trouble. But you sent every single demon in the area to one location. A risky spell, but effective, as long as you know where it's been cast. He didn't.

Even after the rain came down, even once the spell dispersed and the demons ran to hide in their holes, there would still be a ton of them gathered, all in one place. Hell, as far as you're concerned, if he found himself facing down hundreds of those bastards, he's lucky to be alive — let alone still standing. He might be the luckiest man you know, actually, to have escaped that forest with nothing more than a single injury, and all four limbs intact.

But what if there are more wounds you can't see?

Nervously, you take a single step away from the door, clutching the front of your shirt as your heart continues to pound. Rain drums overhead, seeming to only grow louder and louder. Although it drowns out most everything, you can still hear when the man shifts, mumbling a swear to himself through gritted teeth. Gods, your poor heart won't stop racing, and you don't know what to do.

You're scared, for the first time in ages; scared of him, scared for him. You shouldn't let him in. That would be the stupidest thing you possibly could do. You shouldn't help him, shouldn't heal him. You should pretend no-one's home, and leave him be without letting yourself meddle.

You know that, and yet, you can't help but tell yourself you have to help him. No matter how much you try and force yourself to believe the opposite, you can't shake this feeling that you're the only one who can.

There isn't anyone else out here, not for miles. He won't make it out in this storm, and once he leaves the protection of the cottage, it's likely he'll get attacked again. From what you can tell, he doesn't even have a weapon on him. He'll get lost in the darkness. Demons will smell the sharpness of his blood the moment he steps back in the trees, and no matter how fast he can still run, he won't get far. And tomorrow, when you find what's left of him —

Another faint knock at the door has you stirring, your lips parting, although you aren't exactly sure what you should say. It's been a while since you've last spoken to someone other than yourself, not since those knights almost a year ago. Instead, your legs seem to move before you've truly thought about it, and you rush over to the kitchen, fumbling through cabinets to search for whatever medicine you have left.

Perhaps you can't let him in, that much is true. He walked over the mushroom circle with no problem, so you're assuming he isn't capable of detecting spells. Regardless, your cottage is covered in magical items. In potions you've made, and spellbooks that were supposed to be burned with the rest of them. You can't risk anyone sifting through your belongings.

And you already know pressure doesn't bode well with you; if you can't keep your cool, if you say one wrong thing and he somehow figures out you're a mage, dealing with his injuries will be the least of your concerns. He could leave and come back by sunrise with an army of knights prepared to slay you, for all you know.

You shouldn't be helping. This is dangerous. He is dangerous. You're foolish for caring about someone you haven't met, no matter how responsible you might be feeling. But that's the thing. You never get to meet anyone. And maybe, just maybe —

No, it'll be best if you give him some medicine and let him be on his way: some standard herbs, nothing infused with magic. Just something for him to take to ease the pain, and some ointment and bandages to help with the bleeding. You'll crack open the door, tell him you can't accept visitors, and offer him what you can. That's the most you can do. That's what you have to do.

You'll never see him again after this, but you know it's for the best.

You gather the herbs from the kitchen, and the ointment and bandages from the bathroom. You place them all into a small, spare pouch you had lying on the counter, which you hastily work to tie shut. As you walk over to the door, you can barely breathe. Your hands are shaking, and you stop in place, attempting to gather the courage to open it.

It'll be fine. I'm sorry, I hope this will help you. That's all you have to say. I'm sorry sir, you can't come in, but please, accept this. He'll leave, he won't know a thing, and you'll do just fine.

"Okay," The man's smooth voice starts from behind the door, causing you to abruptly tense up. He sounds more out of breath than before: "I don't think anyone is home, so I'm… I'm going to try to come in now. I'm not going to hurt you, just need to get the hell out of this rain- Please, don't kill me."

Shit.

You're unlocking the door in a hurry then. You fling it open, coming face to face with him; the man sways forward, almost tripping. He's rather tall, even taller when he stands up straight to look at you. Deep, worried blue eyes meet yours. Blue like the drawings of the ocean you memorized from your childhood story books. His expression is a muddled mess of pain, relief, exhaustion — and you must be making a face, because he's quickly attempting to make amends.

"Thank the Gods- It's okay," He says, giving you a reassuring look, and raising his hands defensively, his palms stained a dark crimson. His skin is pale, his eyes heavy, like he's lightheaded; "It isn't as bad as it looks. I'll be… fine, I'm-"

With one last stumble, his eyelids flutter. Bright lightning rips through the sky in the distance, and you're watching his knees buckle, leaving him to fall into you. You squeak in surprise, just barely managing to catch him. He's already gone limp in your arms. You're hardly able to hold up his weight, struggling not to just drop him to the ground.

Rain pelts the ground and the grass and your roof. In between the steady drone, tiny droplets of blood splatter onto the wooden floor of your cabin with a plip, plip.

Damn. And you were hoping to eat your stew while it was still hot.

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #aki hayakawa x you #aki x you

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