Synthesis (Amber/Cosmina Fanfic: *Potential spoilers*)

A fantasy crafting/dating sim
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Synthesis (Amber/Cosmina Fanfic: *Potential spoilers*)

Post by leogrl19 »

Summary: Reed has to return to Geislar for family business, leaving our two favorite princesses, all on their lonesome. (Or: How Cosmina's pin-up, came to be~)
A/N: Setting this in Light + world, ONLY because it works, best, with reward art. And, what lovely art it is. MMM.
This one’s Cos/Amber(...I just realized...I may have a PRINCESS kink...); pt 1 of a 2 parter. May do a threesome-shot, in the future. I enjoy those two ganging up on Amber, waaaaaay too much. :mrgreen:
For those interested, this story's also on ao3(Synthesis). Because an Amber's Magic Shop tag is needed, and gosh darnnit, I'm happy to serve.

Oh. You’ve, matured, beautifully…”

Amber smiles, awed breathless; cupping a flower beneath downy petals; leaning in, to clip a leaf.

(Was never able to, quite, kick the habit, of murmuring to gathered ingredients, while living with her mother in the Frontier Woods….)

Plants were her first friends.

A few more, exact snips with her shears, and she releases the nasturtium back to its upright position: orange, yellow and red, preening proudly in sunlight. One of the palace cook apprentices had suffered a nasty burn, that had healed well, but became, irritated, from lack of exposure. She resolved to craft an ointment, as well as a soap, that would help with dry skin and stave off, further, risk of infection. Of course, it only helped, that the leaves were well received in cooking applications; the sweet to spicy flavor, the more one chewed, joyfully shocking the tongue.

Her fingers, curl, along the handle of a basket; shifting knees, shuffling, to the adjoining mass of flowers;

Cradles: stalks of violet.

A smile — Another. Quick—to her lips.

The first seeds she received, had been from Reed, with a blithe comment(and a telltale smirk)that they were “purple and irresistible to the senses: Like you”. She’d given him a bashful blow to the arm, and rolled her eyes; pressing a kiss, to his cheek, soon after.

He truly was, the sweetest man, she’d ever known.

At Cosmina’s behest—and, immediate, acquisition of her fondness of horticulture—the King and Queen agreed to mete her out a sizable plot, in the royal gardens, specifically for her practice in alchemy.

(And the Princess… had taken, considerably more, than a kiss…)

Amber, adds, bundles of lavender, wrapped with twine, to the gathered supplies.


“She’s late.”

Her Royal Highness, Cosmina Hohenzoltar-Sigmarissanis, had promised to meet her by the echinaceas, following, her official duties for the day. Echinaceas, she had harvested, a full hour, ago.

With the compete turn around of her father’s health, there was no longer, any threat, of Cosmina, acquiring the throne earlier than anticipated — even with the Queen, well and whole. But it also meant, she now, had little reason, to sneak off on furtive expeditions. While wholly unapologetic of her former behavior, she did confide, a resolute will, in resuming her various obligations; many of which, Reed had performed, in her stead.

It makes sense—she isn’t angry: The other woman is the future ruler of Icesilia — she can’t(would never), blame her for her birthright.

Sees, firsthand, why—so long—they had to converse with letters.

(…just. Didn't expect; to see even less, after moving into the palace….)

A presence, kneels, beside her, despite their formal attire. Claims a gloved hand and tangles their fingers.

“You’re lovely, in the natural. I never tire, of seeing it.” A voice, that resonates, like still waters. “I’m also sure, Mother, appreciates, having a daughter who dabbles in flowers, instead of swords.”

Leans, into the older woman. Takes in: the distinguishing scent of rosewater and bergamot. “You don’t mean that.”

“No?” (A moment—when those amber eyes become, unknowable. Guarded and aloof.

The eyes of a Sovereign.)

Silver brows, dip. “I’m sorry.”

Amber shakes her head. “Don’t apologize; there isn’t anything to apologize, for.”

“I broke a promise, with a person who means the world to me.” With the words, the grip on her hand, tightens. “I’d say, there’s plenty to be ‘sorry’ for.”

“It isn’t broken.” Smiles. “You’re here.”

Squeezes; the hand, back.

Cosmina stares at her(—and, it’s the complete opposite, of the former look—soft; thawed…), before fingers, grasp at her chin;

Pull her into a fevered kiss.

A clipped gasp — taken aback(still: Paralyzed), when the other, shows desire, so openly

The breadth of Her love.

Pants: when released.

Cosmina, takes her lips; soft… Again; again… Brushes, aside, hair she let grow, over an ear. “As lovely as you were, there was a touch of melancholy.” Those slender brows, pinch, once more(It feels, like empathy). “Do you miss, Reed?”

The corner of her mouth, quirks—instinctive—at the mention: Reed would shovel and sift through the soil, with barely restrained glee, giving little regard toward the risk to his clothing, as he asked, only, if he spaced the seeds, properly.

“A little. But, I cherish, our time, as well.” Sighs; and nuzzles a shoulder. “I think, I’d go mad, if both of you, were gone at once.”

The palace grounds, as large as they are, can still be… Stifling. And even as a princess in title, there were still, a few, who claimed, she tricked, the royal family…

(Was nothing, more, than a sorceress Forsaken.)

The body, next to her—shifts; settles, at her back. Presses. A hand, wrapped, around her waist: Pulling her near. “Are you lonely?”

A ripple.

Her mouth, quickly, opens — but nothing leaves.

(…Is she?)

“Before the sun, retires, behind the trees,” lips; latch to her neck, “meet me in our chambers.”

“Cosmina…” finds her voice(tries, to hold back, the impertinent shudder). “There isn't any need to overexert yourself.” Knows: It will pass. “This is enough. You’re stretched, far too thin, as it is.”

Lips, press. Just, before, the silver chain of the necklace, gifted, so long ago. “Before the sun, retires, behind the trees.”

(—Isn’t. A Request.)

…Amber exhales. “So, you haven’t gotten rid of that habit, of not taking ‘no' for an answer…”

Feels: the other’s mouth, crook, with amusement. “I've told you.” Teeth. (Moans — despite herself). “I don't know the meaning of that word.” Nips, the tender flesh, again. “I, also, feel the need to bully you… I'm upset, you see. My wife, has worn the dress I bought her, with the revealing cut,” licks; up, an exposed spine. “And I'm unable, to ravish her, in the gardens.” A thoughtful hum, that rolls, through, her. “At least. Not here…” bite. “She knows this, of course. Which makes me, think it, a challenge…”

“Well,” catches her breath, “you're always hinting, I'm some big prude.” Chews her bottom lip. “And, maybe. I wanted to give, something, to look forward to.”

A light laugh; dulcet and pleasing. “I'll have to tease you, more often, if this is the result.”

“Bullying—now teasing?” A frown, she doesn’t feel. “Does, Her Highness’ cruelty, know no end?”

(But she loves it—


Their easy way—their banter;

Loves: Just Talking.)

It feels: Like a rare treasure….

When she’s given silence, in response—there’s no helping, the glance, back; the needy turn, to catch those eyes:

Dark. Come-hither:

“Do you, truly, want to cause a scandal?”

Amber smirks(knowing, servants and guards, were, no doubt, near); frees, herself, from the other’s hold, to catch a nasturtium, in bloom. “Not yet…” turns; to tuck, the vibrant flower, beside, silver locks. Admires: her handiwork. “Before the sun sets; our chambers.”

Cups, either side of regal cheeks, and pecks, lips, sweetly.

“It’s a promise.”
Last edited by leogrl19 on Sun May 21, 2017 4:52 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Synthesis (Amber/Cosmina Fanfic: *Potential spoilers*)

Post by jack1974 »

This was nice :)
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Re: Synthesis (Amber/Cosmina Fanfic: *Potential spoilers*)

Post by leogrl19 »

Thanks, Jack! Fanfic's a way a fan can say thanks for creating/letting them borrow awesome characters, so I'm so glad you enjoyed it! You're also responsible for my 'princess addiction', you terrible person, but that's another story. :wink:
Part 2 will be decidedly haha I was wondering if you can post NSFW content on this forum? I never write anything, terribly explicit, but I have no problem linking to another site, if necessary.
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Re: Synthesis (Amber/Cosmina Fanfic: *Potential spoilers*)

Post by jack1974 »

Personally I have no problems, however I probably think would be better to use the spoiler tag and write clearly that there could be something explicit if people click to view :mrgreen:
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Re: Synthesis (Amber/Cosmina Fanfic: *Potential spoilers*)

Post by leogrl19 »

*salutes* Sir, yes, sir!
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Re: Synthesis (Amber/Cosmina Fanfic: *Potential spoilers*)

Post by Madance »

YAYYYYYYY! *________________________________*
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Re: Synthesis (Amber/Cosmina Fanfic: *Potential spoilers*)

Post by leogrl19 »

Right? I'm excited too. :wink:

Thanks for reading!
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Re: Synthesis (Amber/Cosmina Fanfic: *Potential spoilers*)

Post by leogrl19 »

She thinks of nothing, else.

Not for lack of better to do:

(Endless altered recipes she needs to transcribe, still—because, while her memory remains impeccable, her contemporaries can’t read minds—the books, she set aside, for the week, towards her life mission, of conquering the royal collection; her own, new, duties, in reviewing essentials of court decorum, from her battalion of tutors…)

Mind, consumed, with kindling visions,

Smoldering reveries:


Doubts. She’d be able to craft, a simple fertilizer, in the state she’s in….

Catches: drumming fingers—impatient—before, curling them into her palm.

(Can think it, nothing less, than — Obsession)

How, the other, makes it: Impossible.

Ruined her

Amber, sighs; shuts a first edition tome on advanced heating applications(the irony makes her grimace), and pushes it aside.

…There. Had never been, a set time… Only a natural occurrence, not to miss….

(—Backs her chair.)

Scoots in.

Balls her fist tighter. “Blast. It. All…”

Backs the chair, again.

(Knows: This was likely—exactly—the other’s intention, all along; the true reason she hadn’t taken her in the gardens;

Anticipation: Formidable.

And she had played right into her hand….)

But. More than fleeting things: Appreciation. Recognition; whatever the other woman planned, would take time.

Wanting to give, however much, was needed.

Rises; slow. Abandons the workshop.

Servants curtsy and bow and guards stand taller, as she passes, through; corridor, after corridor, in the grand palace, that still feels too grand for her; heels, clicking against marble tiles — until the shared presences, systematically, vanish.

And their bedchamber, is in sight.

When she, steps, to the door(her stomach, flips), reaches for its handle(tight, butterflies); her hand… hesitates. As if, it’s their, first, encounter.

(Is she too early?)

Filtered light, pools, from a stone cut window, flirting with ripened orange. Barely a hint; barely a concept…The sun, just beginning, its descent towards the trees.

…Sighs. Swallows down: Silly notions; and parts, the door, smoothly.

“Ah.” Honeyed. A hiked chin. “There you are…”

(One look; to the view that meets her, and her doubts are blown away….)

Full lips, turn, in a smile(—turn: satisfied). Cosmina eyes her, leisurely, stretched, across their bed, in translucent silk; hips, cant, at a beckoning angle; a foot, arched, inching, up, a shin.

“Amber.” (Blinks.) Hands, twine, loose, above her head; silver, splayed, like a veil… “Are you pleased?”

(Has to remember, to close her mouth. Swallow.) “‘Pleased’…” scoffs; it tastes like Insufficient, “doesn’t begin… to describe it…” (wants; with every fiber in her being….) Pauses. “…What if I, wasn’t the first, to come in?”

“Then, another, would have received, what was meant, for you.”

Can’t help, but pout — even at the notion. “Now, look here…”

Laughter; low. “Do you truly think, so many, brave enough, to enter this place? Certainly not, more, who would dare enter, absent, a knock, to announce their presence.” Winged arms, extend, as if, to embrace: “This. Is our sanctuary… This sight; belongs to you and Reed, alone. Though.” A knowing glint. “What you have, tonight, will be yours, entirely.”

(Feels: her cheeks warm)Smirks, to mask it. “How long did you keep that pose?”

Another smile; slow—and nothing else.

Amber chuckles; steps, forward. “Poor Reed will be heartbroken…”

A suggestive brow. “Only, if you gloat.”

Raises a finger: “Well, that depends on you.” Watches: those eyes, narrow, dangerously

(Denies. The shiver; down to her soles…)


(Casts a hand, to the closest pillar, on the four-poster bed)Takes it all: In.

Toned curves, bound in an ivory negligee; gossamer silk and embroidered lace, bearing; a warm, golden sheen

(Light: fashioned, into a garment…)

So sheer, there are—no secrets; from her hungry gaze.

Rakes: hard peaks, strained, against fabric;

(The way, silk, dips; between the crevice of clasped thighs…)

“You’re breathtaking…” husked. As if, the very air, she breathes—thins, in reverence.

Cool confidence. Seductive surety.

The pinnacle of human beauty….

(Everything. She isn’t.)

A calm smile(—but, those eyes are pleased). “So, often. I think, the same of you.” (…Isn’t: self-deprecating — but doesn’t see: How they compare). The other’s head, turns, to a desk; two small bowls, she hadn’t noticed, lined neatly. “I've taken it, upon myself, to procure an alchemist; to prepare, two lubricants, that heat or cool, on contact.”

Curled lips(Neither of the two, particularly difficult). “You could have asked me.”

“And ruin the surprise?” A look that says: Unacceptable. “Not that it, lacked, its moments. You are the best, in Icesilia, after all; and I needed, a result, befitting you.” Hikes; a leg, further. “So, I went to your old master.”

“Haros?” Genuine Shock. “But, he’s—”

“Mm: retired, yes. In the Mage’s Guild. But, there are few, who can deny a princess.” A wink. Smug. “And, when I explained, it was for you, he happily complied. I believe, it was something along the lines, of ‘returning the favor’. Apparently, you’d done him, some great service, concerning your mother, Vin, in the past.”

…Closes her eyes; and just


(Doesn’t know—what’s worse: The gross misuse of power or that freakishly active, old man…

Definitely Haros.)

Cosmina, laughs, as if grasping her thoughts: “I did want you surprised. Nevertheless.” A wicked glance. “In the interest; of being, transparent: I merely, had want, for an excuse.” Licks: full lips. “To utterly deprive you; of those infernal gloves…”

“Always with the gloves…” huffed, under her breath(lacking any heat); Amber, pinches, the leather, of a fingertip—tugs it loose. “Though, I remember, quite a few encounters…” tosses it, to the desk. Draws: a bowl, near. “Where you begged me to keep them on.”

(Lacks the decency: to even look guilty.) “You’re not wrong… But the flesh, of your palm; the crests and hollows…” coos; “The way you hide them from me. They feel like a delicacy.” Watches; her, coat, bared fingers, with rapt attention:

“Come here.”

Flexed arms, draw back, even further; the other’s breasts, hitched, in offering.

Touch me…”

(An order.

A plea…)

…Releases, the second bowl, and settles by her side.

Buries a nose, in the crook of a jaw. (The flower: Still there. Set; behind a rounded ear.)

Wants. To kiss her


I’ve missed you…” (it tumbles); only when her hands, canvas, incomparable skin—trail, the line, of a delicate clavicle — Does she find the words.

(Sounds: so Selfish


“I’ve neglected you.” breathed. “Amber;” and, those eyes, hold pain, she wishes to wash away…. “So often, I would want, more — more of you, more time…” knit brows; “…Always, wanting more.” Trembles; as her thumb, strikes, a cleft, “Now. I have the opportunity; and I squander it.”

“Isn’t that natural?” Moves: to reassure. Presses a kiss; to the sharp jut of bone. “We all, take for granted, what’s constant and near.” (Remembers—how much, she ached for Home, so many nights, in Icesilia…) “Isn’t that, familiarity; an indication, it’s dear?”

Cosmina smiles(and it’s heartbreaking). “You’re, very much, a giver. It’s what I love most about you; what made me fall for you. My knight with shining potions.” Cracks a grin; the other, lifts, an arm. Holds a cheek. “How selfless you are… How willing, to always, help….” A shoulder, rolls; and a lacy strap; slumps, to a bicep(Swallows, hard). “But. Without balance: Nothing sustains.” Repeats; the motion, with the other shoulder. “I need, to know, if you can take. Relentlessly…” nails, curve, into flesh. “Take—me. For example.”

Lets—her hand fall. Drags; the one, dipped in ‘cold’ lubricant, beneath; the fabric lining her breasts…

Arcs — into her touch, and cries out, all at once

Quakes. “What.” Gasps. “Would you like?” Assumes: the position, held, before; hands, draped, above her head. “What—can I give?”

Lidded eyes;

Quivering hips

(Loses: Herself.

Just a little.)

“…You should choose.” Twists; a nipple(harder from the chill), between roughly clasping fingers. “Or I may take, everything…”

flicks; the tight peak, with the nail of her thumb.

A tremor(Delicious…).

“I wouldn’t—mind that.” Quivering lips(Pleasure? Cold?). Heated rushes of air. “Leave me; bereft…”

Amber smiles

(Loses the rest).

Parts: legs; with the hand reserved for heat(—A sharp jolt. Head, falling, to sheets.). “You’re always so calm. Measured. Unmovable.” Gathers: wetness—thick and substantial. Takes; in one go. (Her name, stretched, across a moan…) “I really. Respect that about you. Since; we’re being honest.” Flexes; two fingers; sets: a third. “You’ll be the perfect Queen…” adds(Hips — leap); “But, now: You’re just a woman.” (Stifles; a hoarse whimper). “I love that. That — Rarity….”


(Beyond compare…)

“I should… consider, myself… fortunate.” Cosmina pantsshifts. Hooks; a leg, over her right shoulder. “That you don’t know your power.” Hips; buckchase, for more. “One look;” rocks; with fevered eyes, “and I’m cast, aflame… One; and I all but — burst…” groans. Deep. “Hotter than your fieriest brew… Hotter than your fingers, inside me…” clenches.(Shudders; into herself…) “I am calm; measured; unmovable…Until.” Hands, strangle, sheets. “The gaze of my wife, undos me…”


Again….” — it hits her like a wave;

A Shock, deep, within.

(That word…)

Smiles: “My wife.” (Every time she says it…) “My. Wife.” (More.) “Amber. Hohenzoltar-Sigmarissanis.” (More…) And even at the mercy of her fingers; those eyes, narrow, predatorily. “Mine.”

(Wants, in a way — beyond her grasp)

Cos…” switches—to the other breast;

pulls fabric, and wraps a nipple, with her tongue—


(An approving cry.)

Knows: the body, beneath—every curve and fold;

Its: slippery heat:…

But this is different.


This is:

Wanting every last drop.

The hand between her legs, arcs—presses, as deep; as far — until her palm meets slick flesh,

grinds; against a swelled nub.


—mouth: latched to her breast(chilled fingers abusing its twin). Alternating between nipping and sucking


Rises—with, swelling hips. Thrustsone last time—fingers, curving; stroking the familiar rough patch…


Resounding screams. The echoes of her name(breathless; broken), within the chamber.

Amber releases: the nipple, held hostage, between her teeth. Swallows. The woman, beneath her:

Disheveled. Sweat-slicked. Flushed chest heaving — in need of air

Bathed: in dying sun.


(The only explanation she can give.)


A startled yelp

(This one won’t be gentle.)

Wastes no time:

crooks and curls and twitches—all the weak places(Feels: lifeless hips, twitch, to life; begin to roll, helplessly); flattens the heel of her palm against her, once more—to hit the exact same spot; over and over….



—the other, unable to even scream. Pushes: A throaty, primal hiss….

(Walls, endlessly clenching…)

…Slows; and brings her down, gently. Lingering kisses; along the column of her throat.

(Still: Loves: the contrast of skin; how it becomes less or more; consumed by her violet….)

Amber…” when the other finds her voice. Peeks, through one eye and—


Smirks: “Is, Her Highness, pleased?”

Finally, uses hands(limbs; still: trembling); to bring her down in a hungry kiss.

“…I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

“You really should.” Twirls: a lock of her hair. “I’m half-tempted to hide from you for a while, so you’ll miss me again…”

Amber laughs. Trails; fingers down delicate ribs—

A shudder.

Stares. “…Exactly, how long, does this potion last?”

Those lips, turn, proudly. “I requested, he provide, his most effective dosage.” (Blinks.) “Did you think we were done? I don’t lose, well; and, I have plenty to recompense…” tugs, her—forward, and flips their positions. Pins; her wrists to the bed. “You see: I may never share you, again.” Kisses: slow; and possessive… “And, Reed, will thoroughly know; the repercussions of leaving us alone….”
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