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bookworm-with-coffee · 11 months ago

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The Greatest Heist of All. . .

(How they react to your pet - Slytherin Boys x Reader)

Plot; Niffler inspired crackfics

Pairings; Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Romantic), Ominis Gaunt x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; jealousy, coarse language, floofity fluff

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Sebastian Sallow

When Sebastian first laid eyes on that Niffler, he knew trouble would start. In rescuing creatures, you had come to love many of them, but none more than those greedy little—

The brunette fumed at the thought of them. Those cute little beady eyes had won you over that day you'd both gone walking in the woods for a picnic date. That's when you'd stumbled upon a den of Nifflers.

Of course, most ran away. But, one remained. One annoying little—

Unafraid and curious, the little creature had sniffled and shuffled closer to you both.

"Mind your pockets", Sebastian commented, your hand waving to dismiss his words without a care.

"Look at you!!", you'd cooed at the little one, your boyfriend hardly sharing your enthusiasm on the creature.

You admired the blue fur on his back, reaching keenly to pet the cheeky little thing before it practically clambered onto your lap and into your arms. Sebastian's eyes rolled as your arms engulfed the Niffler, stroking your hands along his smooth hairs.

Attention went from your date to your uninvited guest, and after some time, Sebastian grew impatient and perhaps, a bit jealous as well?

"Alright, great. You've pet it. Now, can we go?", he huffed, raising a brow.

You pouted up at your boyfriend, the Niffler eagerly accepting your affections, "I don't want to just leave him here".

"He's a wild animal", the brunette reasoned. "He has a family. He'll be fine". But, the Niffler also seemed to share your resolve, not wishing to leave your kind embrace.

"I think— I want to keep him".

Oh God. Oh no—

"Nifflers are little thieves!", Sebastian insisted. "Who wants a pet that could rob you blind??".

Kneeling by your side, your freckled partner laid a gentle hand on your back before sliding it down to hold your spare hand in his attempt to coax you away.

The Niffler saw Sebastian's possessive behaviour and recognised it as a similar behaviour to those of his own kind. Could it be that you were valuable? Not gold, but a treasure as yourself?? This would be his biggest win yet, if that were so.

Sebastian's brown hues drifted to the Niffler, whose attitude had become a bit more insistent. The creature's eyes met his own and without breaking contact, deliberately snuggled into your chest, even daring to lay a possessive paw by your shoulder as if to say, mine.

Oh, it was on.

In the weeks that followed, things grew worse.

Every time there was even a mention of Sebastian, your Niffler saw fit to jump into your lap or arms to draw your attention.

Sebastian was at breaking point. Each time he spoke with you, there was that miscreant stirring him up. He'd even taken to insisting that the thing was evil, to your amusement.

Once or twice, the brunette even went as far as to mouth, "I'm watching you!", from over your shoulder, making the signal with his hands when you weren't looking.

It was unbelievable. A Niffler participating in some form of torturous psychological warfare. And Sebastian wouldn't let him win. You were his.

Then, your owl came and the existential dread continued.

Sebastian,

Would you be so kind as to babysit my Niffler? You'd be doing me a HUGE favour, as I'm away for most of the day on Saturday and he'll be left with no supervision and company.

Love always,

(Y/n) ♡

Bloody thing can starve, was his first thought, finally inwardly relenting when he thought of the consequences. You'd hate him forever if he did that.

So, it was off to your home he'd have to go.

"You boys behave while I'm gone", you'd teasingly instructed with a pointed finger and Sebastian played it off with a forced smile.

"Don't rush", he shrugged, making sure to pull you into the most passionate kiss he could offer, hoping the Niffler would weep on the inside.

"Sebastian", you giggled against his lips, almost tempted to stay for a more intimate moment were it not for your plans. "I am coming back".

His forehead leant on your own, the Niffler forgotten whilst his hands drew imaginary patterns on your waist. "I'll be waiting with bated breath", the brunette whispered, pressing another kiss to the tip of your nose. "I love you".

"I love you too", you sighed, allowing only one more peck on the lips before your parting.

Until the Niffler scuttled to you, pulling on the fabric of your blouse from where he sat on a table. "Oh, Darling", you fawned, Sebastian resisting the urge to hurl. "I'd nearly forgotten you!!". Lifting the creature, you kissed the top of his head. "Mama will be back soon, okay? Behave for your Dad".

Oh, God. He really was going to be sick.

Giving a final wave of your hand, you were off and away, Sebastian's unimpressed glower falling onto the Niffler beside him. "I am not your Dad".

The Niffler seemed to chatter, something akin to mischievous laughter. And I'm not going to behave.

Some of the most horrible hours of Sebastian's life came to follow.

It was one incident after the other, resulting in a few smashed vases and a bruised ego for Sebastian.

"That's it!", he finally snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at the little creature. "I've had it!! Whatever, it is!!".

As if scolding a child, Sebastian continued, "(Y/n) may think you're adorable, but I know the truth, you conniving thief! You might have fooled her, but you don't fool me!! And if you think for one second that—".

"Sebastian?".

His face paled, hearing the voice of his love and the Niffler took his chance. The mischievous creature began to sniffle, as if it were crying, before faking a limp whilst walking to you.

"What happened??", you cried out, spying the shards of a broken vase by the bench, still not cleaned up because of one little Niffler. Your attention instantly diverted to your pet, seemingly in hurt. "What did you do, Sebastian?!".

"What did I do??", he repeated incredulously. "I didn't do anything to him! It was that damn creature running amok!!".

All the while, you were focused on the aforementioned miscreant, feeding into his lies and infuriating Sebastian further.

"He's evil, (Y/n)! That thing needs to go!!".

"That 'thing', is Jeffrey!", you shot back.

"Oh?? So, it has a name now??".

Your eyes bore into the brunette's, searching his darker hues in silent scrutiny for a moment before you spoke again.

"You're jealous".

Those words made him stiffen, silencing any comebacks he'd bottled inside.

"That's ridiculous", Sebastian offered, too weak to be an argument.

"You are!", your mouth fell open, drawing your boyfriend's brows together.

"I am not jealous!".

"By Merlin", you gasped, trying to restrain any laughter threatening to spill out. "You're jealous. Of a Niffler?? ".

"He gets in the way!", Sebastian yelled, harsher than intended. "You're always giving him your attention, I hardly get it anymore! He's also consciously trying to steal you from me, for whatever reason!".

"Steal me?", your brow rose, a few giggles slipping out before your expression softened. Your eyes shifted to Jeffrey, noting that he was uncharacteristically fine for a creature so 'hurt' and you stroked over his fur, placing him aside. "You'll be fine".

The Niffler watched as you approached Sebastian, bringing him into an embrace. Your fingers combed through the soft waves of his hair and down to the nape of his neck, allowing him to melt in your arms.

"Sebastian", you sighed, shaking your head only slightly. "You're right. My attention from you has been divided. And while Jeffrey's behaviour was far from innocent—". You pulled back, running your fingertips over his face, encouraging his eyes to meet yours. "— I will never be stolen away from you. No Human or Niffler can steal me from the one who matters most to me. There's only one Sebastian Sallow. And that's rarer than any treasure".

A smile finally returned to Sebastian's face, the gap closing between you both. Your lips met his, gentle and breezy, calming the fires of anger and jealousy that had once stoked within his heart.

"I'll make us a cup of tea", you whispered, tapping the brunette on his nose, leaving only the brightest of smiles in your wake as you brushed by.

Sebastian turned his attention to the little shit sitting on the nearby counter, his tongue darting out teasingly. "I win".

The Niffler's head seemed to dip, suddenly sad and deflated. A pang of guilt hit Sebastian in that moment and it made him relent to the small creature.

"Fine", he grumbled, unable to fight his growing smile. "I can't believe I'm doing this, but–". He offered his hand. "— friends?". Jeffrey sniffled, almost seeming to nod in agreement when he extended his paw. "Just don't push your luck".

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Ominis Gaunt

The day Ominis met your pet Niffler was utterly magical.

You had lead him into your vivarium for the first time, introducing him to the array of magical creatures that were under your care.

Ominis got to feel the smooth and pristine feathers of a Joberknoll, the fluffy hairs of a Puffskein; and the beak of your Hippogriff, Highwing.

And then the cherry on top; your Niffler.

Nifflers were curious, but harmless creatures. They were notorious for stealing jewels, treasure, coins— anything that sparkled, really. With their affectionate nature and reputation for an adorable stature, it was not a mystery as to why you chose to keep the Niffler you rescued from poachers.

The blonde had always wanted to meet one of those cute little theives and in knowing this, you'd excitedly given him the opportunity.

"Where is he??", Ominis had asked, unable to mask the way his voice travelled an octave higher in his anticipation.

"This way!", he was able to hear the grin in your tone, widening his own as he eagerly allowed himself to be tugged along by the pale tips of his nimble fingers.

You'd gently helped the blonde to be seated on the soft grass, almost finding yourself mesmerised with how the sunlight struck his delicate features.

Whistling and clicking your fingers, there was a shuffling in the grass as something approached. It had startled Ominis only slightly, the new grip of your hand over his own settling him.

You guided his hand forward as you had done so before, his palm finally landing on something soft. A short gasp heaved from the blonde, his lashes fluttering at the new sensations beneath his skin.

There was the rapid rising and falling of the little creature's breaths as he sniffed over the new guest of the vivarium.

A smile carved its way onto Ominis' expression, hesitantly stroking over the little creature beneath his grasp. Your hand lead his over the Niffler's head and snuffling snout, a breathy laugh slipping from the blonde when the small breaths tickled his skin.

Long had he dreamed about this..

"Ominis, I'd like you to meet Sebastian", you laughed at the sudden quizzical look that dawned on your counterpart's expression.

"Sebastian?", Ominis echoed with a quirk of his brow. "You named your Niffler after our friend? ".

No, he wasn't jealous. Not at all.

"Only because he gets into so much trouble", you giggled. "He also has these adorable speckles on his fur around his face. Lilac fur with faded spots".

"Like freckles", he nodded in understanding, trying to fight the deflation dampening his initial excitement. "Does Sebastian know that you've named your 'child' after him?".

Ominis was sure that with the amount of time you'd spent with Sebastian on various escapades in the fifth year and the closeness you still shared now in your seventh, that the brunette had undoubtedly been the first to be shown the Room of Requirement and these lovely creatures.

Perhaps Sebastian was the better suitor for you??

"No, actually", your amused answer shocked Ominis. "I've never brought him here. He doesn't even know of this place".

"He doesn't?", the blonde's brows creased in a bout of confusion. "I thought he'd be the first to know of this place".

"What do you mean??".

Ominis' heart had begun to beat frantically within his chest whilst he'd attempted to play his jealousy and nerves off with a smile, as he often did when it came to your friendship with Sebastian.

"I— I just meant that you two are close", he replied with a tug of his shoulders. "I thought you might have been more inclined to show him over me, is all. I was only confused as to why it was the contrary".

In the few seconds of thoughtful silence that followed, you both had taken notice to the warmth of your hand that still lingered on his own, neither of you daring to separate them. Instead, your fingers slowly inched into the gaps between his own, hinting your intentions with your words,

"Do you not know?".

Ominis squeezed the digits threaded with his own like they were a life-raft, assuring you of his consent before your lips had taken his own in careful caresses.

Absolutely magical.

Or so he'd thought at the time, not realizing he'd just unknowingly declared war against a very protective Niffler.

Ominis dismissed it as paranoia at first, just shrugging off the seemingly possessive behaviour the little creature conveyed.

But, it had become apparent over the many weeks that it wasn't just his imagination playing tricks on him..

The Niffler was clearly jealous of your diverted attention. Ominis had figured that out rather quickly.

Just as the Niffler had figured out how to push his buttons. Like Sebastian.

Whenever you both had picnics in the vivarium or brought Ominis along to help in the care of your creatures, Sebastian lived up to his name.

The mischeievous miscreant always managed to get in the way, snatching Ominis' wand from his robes so that he wouldn't be able to find you or the other creatures before misplacing it to make it look as if it had dropped out by mistake.

You thought that's all it was, despite Ominis knowing and insisting otherwise.

Then, it was the Niffler napping on your lap whenever Ominis wanted to. And of course, you were a sucker for that adorable little shit. He could do no evil, apparently.

Holding hands? The Niffler went out of his way to pry the blonde's hand from yours, snuggling under yours to draw your attention; even going as far as to shove Ominis' hand away and preoccupy your palm with his paw.

Sitting together? Sebastian interfered with that too, worming his annoying little self between your bodies so that he could sit in the middle as a barrier to separate you both.

Whenever Ominis wanted time with you, Sebastian was always there. It was like the Niffler had been incarnated with a piece of his best friend's soul, always troublesome and always interfering.

Ominis finally hit breaking point when the little shit decided to make off not only with his wand, but with the handmade necklace he'd bought from Feldcroft in his most recent visit.

The blonde planned to give it to you as a gift, but even he should've known better than to have it in his pockets when visiting the vivarium to carry out a favour for you, his beloved.

Whilst you would be attending to family business today, he would care for your creatures. Something that was turning out to be a complete impossibility.

In Sebastian's mouth? Ominis' wand.

In his paws?? The necklace.

"Come back here, you little rat! Give those back, Sebastian!!", he cried out, only able to follow the scuttling in the grass and the jingling of the jewellery in the Niffler's greedy grasp.

Wheezing and panting, Ominis crawled and sprinted around, the Niffler releasing an occasional squeak whenever he got close. Until—

"Got you!", the blonde shouted, finding a grip on the Niffler that struggled desperately in his grasp.

It soon became clear that he was holding the little miscreant upside down, coins seeming to pour out of his marsupial-like pouch. His paws were still occupied with the necklace he'd stolen, whining in despair at the loss of his precious coins as they rained down to the floor.

"Serves you right!", Ominis seethed, breathless from his pursuit.

In a sense of victory, the blonde's lips curled into a grin, his fingertips running along the Niffler's belly. The creature chattered as if he were laughing, especially ticklish at the gentle prodding. More coins and jewels rained out as Ominis' fingers reached his sniffling snout.

Quickly snatching his wand back from the little creature's jaw, he boasted, "I win", before reaching for Sebastian's paws.

Ominis caught ahold of the necklace, but the Niffler's grip was like iron.

"Sebastian, give it to me", the blonde chided, tugging on the precious piece of jewellery. "Come on, Sebastian".

The Niffler struggled and resisted, never being more keen to possess anything in his life. Even the measly coins Ominis tried to trade couldn't compare to the necklace and he wasn't willing to break it.

"You stubborn mule! Fine!!", he snapped, huffing as he set Sebastian loose.

Dejected, the blonde sat himself down, soon recieving the company of your Puffskein as it nuzzled into his side. Despite his sadness, even he was unable to resist smiling at the affectionate creature.

Ominis reached over to pet the Puffskein, your mischievous Niffler watching from a distance. All of his lost coins were on the ground by the blonde's legs, but it wasn't them that drew Sebastian back.

It was the realisation that Ominis could love him just as much as you could. That his love was not a threat to the friendship you shared with your favourite pet.

Perhaps he'd tried stealing the wrong person??

Ominis seemed just as compassionate, if not moreso.

His attention soon became divided from the Puffskein when the cool and delicate metal of a necklace was dropped into his palm. The blonde almost couldn't believe it.

A Niffler?? Returning something shiny??

And then it clicked. It wasn't of value to him, but a ploy to sabotage your relationship with Ominis. Sebastian had felt threatened.

"Thank you", Ominis whispered, his lips curling out of amusement as the little creature began to shuffle around and pick up the coins that had dropped.

Perhaps Sebastian was more alike to his human counterpart than the blonde first realised? He has a heart of gold too, although it rarely shows.

And upon your return to the vivarium, you were delighted to find things resolved between your pet and boyfriend, knowing tensions and jealousy had been spiked between the two.

There, Ominis laid on the grass asleep, a freckled lilac Niffler upon his chest.

Your plan had worked..

The End. . .

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Hey readers!! ❤❤ I hope you all enjoyed these fics as much as I loved writing them!! As always, any and all feedback is welcome!

So, please - let me know how I went in writing for Sebastian and Ominis for the first time and how to improve, if I can! If you wished to be added to my taglist for this fandom or any others I write for, check out my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in!

Thank you all for your support!! ❤❤❤

#ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #slytherin boys #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #fanfiction #my writing #gifs not mine

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wannabepoeticischiya · 2 months ago

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in the wake of stars... there, we remain

Do you wish to know the horrible truth? When I close my eyes, her memory does not resurface. I cannot remember her laugh, or even tell apart her voice. All that remains is the waking thought that she was the only woman I ever loved—the only thing I ever wanted. And the Abyss took her away from me. The gods took her away from me! And all the time in the universe—all the power this world has to offer—couldn't fill the void she left behind.

ao3: in the wake of stars... there, we remain pairing: capitano x f! reader genre: angst, romance wc: 16k status: one shot art by: C50spicy

“Granny!”

“Freminet! Don’t call her that—”

A soft chuckle echoed in the closed room, halting the chastise the magician was about to bestow on his younger brother.

“It’s quite alright, Lyney. I’m sure little Freminet meant no harm.” A pair of blackened hands patted the young boys’ heads, the blue veins marring the skin contrasting with the oceans of blond threads.

Despite Freminet’s endearment of the woman, no sign of aging was visible on her youthful face. A stranger might even proclaim her as an older sister to the infamous Knave of the House of Hearth. But the only thing stopping them from doing so was the darkened skin tracing from under her left ear all the way to the horizons of her forehead.

“Can you tell us the story again? Please?” The little blond diver sat near the woman’s feet, looking up at her with big beady eyes—one which always proved difficult to refuse, even for their ‘Father’.

“Only if you promise not to call me an old lady again.” She playfully bargains with the child, although… [Name] wouldn’t really mind either way. “Now, gather around.” She ushers the children to move closer to her, for which they happily obliged.

A rhythmic song echoed in the bowels of her soul as she silently watched the children talk amongst one another, a joy she knew could only live here… in this home, in this time, with them, and nowhere else.

Once upon a time, in a kingdom under the golden sea, there lived a knight, brave, righteous, and kind as they could be. And this knight, he loved no one else but the woman who threw flowers at strangers with glee.

The citizens loved this knight, and everyone wanted to be acquainted with him. But this knight lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me…

“Haven’t I already told you to get lost?”

Cradled under a dome of a million stars, a noble lady stood far on the far side of the balcony, gazing down with fiery eyes at the knight looking up at her from below. Threads of [h/c] swayed by the eternal gale that rounded the kingdom every after-dark, ruffling the violet and golden garments she wore oh so devotedly—a striking contrast to him who wore clothes darker than the void itself.

“Ah, well—” his voice echoes in the silence of twilight, hopeful at best, painted as desperate for the woman on the loggia.

“My answer remains the same, Captain.”

Before the Captain could raise another protest, a plea for her to reconsider, the lady peered over the balustrade, angered at his stubbornness, “No.”

She could not wrap her head around his insistence, at first finding it admirable before it morphed to be unbearable. Many times had she told him off:

‘I must refuse your proposal, my lord’

‘I’m honored, really, but I cannot accept’

‘Surely, a maiden far fairer than me would most wholeheartedly embrace your affections’.

One would think that after three rejections, he would relent.

At one point, she believed him to have raised the white flag, given that he had ceased his advancement for a full fortnight.

That is until she ran into him at the plaza one fateful afternoon. Finding him surrounded by a sea of people both of highborn and low, militia and serpent knights, harboring him affection and regard.

The shadow of her presence was enough to stop their banters, the weight of her name parting the ocean of people, and before her… was a path that led right to him.

Snapping out of the memory, she is reminded that the object of her daydreams was still perched upon the street below her awaiting an acceptance that the lady swore would never come, even if he is a knight. “Now, if you will be so kind as to step aside—”

“My lady…”

A sharp stare silenced the Commander’s tongue, forcing him to freeze where he stands, burning the remnants of his thoughts. All that remained was the echo of her voice, the light reflecting off her eyes, the presence of her soul. He wouldn’t have minded staying rooted there for the rest of the evening, shackled to that post until the end of his time, so long as she would be near. A call away, just over the wall, looking at him from the panes of her windows.

“Please move out of the way, Capitano. I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

The Commander, as if time began to march slower, saw her marching towards the archway that would lead her indoors, and before he could detain his tongue—his thoughts had run past his better judgement.

“Throwing flowers at passersby hardly seems to be of urgency.”

[Name] let out a scoff of disbelief, swiping away her hand that held the doorknob and turned to march back towards the balcony, peering down at him with all the disdain in the cosmos. The nerve of this—this… “A lot more concerning than having you propose another time when my take on the matter will not change. Now, move out of the way before I throw a pot at you.”

“But why?”

The lady looked at him cynically, was he asking in accordance with his repeated rejection or for the threat of the pot? She would be happy to indulge in the latter, but [Name] knew that the ever-righteous Captain was not one to act like a fool… yet he continued to play the jester with her.

“Are we really going over this again?” She looks at him in exasperation, internally wondering how he rose to such power when he was stubborn as a mule. “Have you forgotten where you stand? I am a lady of the house [L/n], you are a Commander for the knights. Do you really dare have me be insulted by it all? Let me remind you again: from the moment we met all those years ago, when you had so brazenly declared to me that you would take arms and fight the heavens, your conceit and selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realize that you will be the last man I’d ever be prevailed upon to marry. And I would rather dine on the scraps of field tillers and cross the seven seas with no leverage than be courted by the likes of you. Good day.”

Capitano stared at her retreating figure, counting that as the fifth attempt to court her that month. And the overall hundredth rejection for the last five, or was it seven, years? Every time she turned down his advancements it had him motivated to do more, to be more, become better.

Because in his eyes… there was no greater blessing, no greater honor than to love her.

[Name] who offered him cakes and cookies down by the gardens all those summers ago, the one who ran down the streets to welcome him back, the little lady who pushed the swing when he sat alone by the playground. [Name] who supported his dream of knighthood, the lady who dressed his wounds, who wiped his tears, parted his lips so he could breathe.

I’d be the last man she’d ever be prevailed upon to marry… she didn’t say she’d never marry me—just that I’m her last option.

Even if the same [Name] now sneers at all things related to him and his status as a commander.

A foolish smile carved its way onto his face, eyes as deep as the depths of the ocean shining in delight at the newfound hope.

There’s still a chance!

But love didn’t come easy for the knight, no matter the ardency of his feelings, the sincerity of his soul, nor the patience in his heart. The lady simply turned a blind eye to him—

“That’s awful! Mr. Knight must be very sad.” A little girl cried while her friend tried to console her by rubbing her back, the sight tugging at the seams of [Name]’s heart.

“Indeed, how cruel the lady must have been.” She agrees gently, curling a fistful of fabric under her touch, suppressing the urge to just run outside and comb the earth to make it all right. How cowardly was I to have shunned your affection for so long…

Not long after, one of the older kids spoke her piece, “If a knight as chivalrous as him had loved me, I would never let him go, not even for all the mora in the world.”

For a few arbitrary seconds, [Name] is left at a loss for words.

Perhaps it’s the curse taking effect or maybe it’s the regret clawing from the depths of her eroding soul. Still, it remained clear that the young lady’s words were something she wished she had lived by all those centuries ago.

“Nor I.” [Name] concedes, acknowledging the boldness—the genuineness—of the child’s declaration with a look of understanding.

But no matter how we wish to change our fate, to pave a way for a better tomorrow, a waking moment where we aren’t suffocated by the crushing weight of regret—that was all they could remain as: wishes.

It didn’t matter how ardently we pray for it to be true, how earnestly we chant so we could forge it into being… because when the dust settles and the moon is at rise, only then we’ll know…

“You see, children, to speak of love is an easy task, even the most vicious of people can do it. But to wait and prove that it’s true—even when there is no guarantee of getting loved in return, that is an act of faithfulness that cannot be accomplished by everyone. It takes merely a few seconds to profess love, but doing it takes more than a lifetime. And to find someone eager to spend that time with you… is a blessing that not everyone is fortunate enough to receive.”

…that some tales are not fated for a happy ending.

The children looked at her in amazement, no matter the blights of her curse on her skin—how it can easily depict her a monster—Lady [Name] is still one of the kindest people they have ever been lucky enough to meet.

Love didn’t come in all the shades of the rainbow as the lady had hoped. Love didn’t come dressed in willingness as the knight assumed.

Perhaps, in their hearts, they knew.

Sometimes, love can come painted like a summer night: dark as it comes but scattered with a hundred million stars. Sometimes, love is cloaked in hesitance: a gentle wave by the shores dyed with the warmth of a thousand suns.

And sometimes… love appears in forms we least expect it to take.

“You turned him down? The Captain? The Commander of the Serpent Knights? The Captain?”

A young woman paced around the room, struggling to accept the story her friend told her only moments prior.

“Yes, Peruveere, I did.”

[Name] rolled her eyes at the other person’s restless mumbling, continuously taking apart the petals from the flowers. And as if sensing the follow-up questions of her inquisitive friend, [Name] quickly attached the rest of her answers not a breath later, “Yes, the Captain. Yes, the Commander of the Serpent Knights. Yes, the Captain. And yes, Il-Capitano, the ever-righteous, strong and brave, nigh-invincible Captain. I turned him down just as I had the previous time he asked, and the time before that, as well as all the other advances he had made. And I will continue to do so if he keeps insisting. It will not change.”

She tore another petal away from the stem, not sparing a single glance at the other lady currently losing her marbles over the simple matter of [Name]’s rejection of matrimony.

“But why?”

[Name] tore her eyes away from the busy streets and looked over her shoulder to her friend with a stare of utter disbelief, as though she, herself, could not wrap her head around the question directed at her. [Name] could not choose which one of her inner turmoils would best fit the situation at hand: ‘You know why’, was one, and ‘I cannot, in my wildest dreams, believe that you would really ask me that’, was another. Though it seemed that no matter the choice, it still would not be enough to convey the entirety of her plight.

“I know that look, missy.” Peruveere narrowed her cross-marked eyes at [Name], drawing lines in the air as if it would raise the stakes of an imaginary court to accuse her further. “Your thoughts are all over your face! Peruveere, you’re a fool to ask me that—a lunatic to even ask why—I question to this day why I am friends with someone as empty-headed as you.”

The obsidian of her hair shone under the golden light of the artificial sun, casting away the shadows of the locks of her hair that were colored in ivory.

“Those are your words, my friend, not mine.” [Name] smirked, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned to face the fuming lady before her. “You know me, Peruveere, nothing in this world can persuade me into matrimony. If you wish to be tied to that man so very much, why don’t you marry him instead?” she offered, smiling faintly at the prospect of having to get rid of that persistent knight.

Peruveere scoffed at the idea, waving a hand in the air as though it would scatter her friend’s ridiculous suggestions.

Soon after, her expression morphed into something far too difficult for [Name] to interpret, “One day, [Name], you will wake up with your head in your hands and realize how wrong you were, and you will wish to have done things differently. You will wish that you loved him a little earlier so you could have loved him longer. And you will hear the echoes that my foresight was correct. The way I endeavored to inform you will come into light, and after all of that is said and done, only then will I trust that my earlier warning has been understood—"

[Name] let out a sound of alarm at the near cursing her friend was speaking, now it was her turn to wave her hands in the air as though it would rid of the baleful prescience. “Stop. Stop. Stop!”

Peruveere ignored [Name]’s superstitions and instead opted to convey her thoughts on all the privileges that [Name] would possess once she is married to the Commander.

“Every noble lady in the kingdom wants to be wed to Capitano! He’s got it all, you know, titles, wealth, power, influence—” Peruveere listed off his qualities from the tips of her fingers, explaining how each one of them would be beneficial to her and what it could mean for the years to come. Peruveere droned on and on until she finished at least ten laps on both hands, and [Name]’s ears were on the verge of caving in from how many times that brooding man’s name left the lips of her friend.

“And as your bestest, greatest, most fabulous, not to mention only friend, I have to root for you! I must! You two are practically born of the same soul! And to address your previous statement, no, I will not marry him on your behalf. Capitano is not what I look for in a man, he wears too much black, his friend on the other hand, oh my Dainsleif—hey! Where are you going?”

Peruveere quickly traced the steps of her departing friend, not quite finished with listing off the reasons why [Name] should accept the Commander’s proposal.

[Name] reckons Peruveere could never understand.

She wasn’t present at the time. She wasn’t even part of [Name]’s life when it all came crashing down. So how could Peruveere understand why rejecting Capitano hurts [Name] more than it did him? Especially when he was so persistent, so dedicated, treating her feelings as though being at the receiving end of it was an honor far higher than the heavens. Especially because he does all of that.

Capitano gave it all… and it was being wasted when she could not bring herself to return it despite every inch of her soul begging her to do so.

“A place where I won’t hear another mention of that man’s name—” [Name] saw Peruveere brace herself to question and quickly snuffed it out, “—or his accomplishments, his power, his oh-so-handsome visage, or anything even remotely related to him!” [Name] yelled, sick of all the iterating questions of why when she had already been so clear of her intentions. Peruveere, mother, even my sisters… all asking the same thing, and no matter my answer, they still won’t relent.

“[Name]…”

She snapped out of her thoughts, the consequence of her action hitting her with full force as she looked at the stupefied expression on her friend’s face. “Peruveere—I… I apologize, I did not mean to—”

Peruveere caught the hand that was reaching out to her, encasing them fully in warmth as she gazed at [Name] in a kind light. “No, I should be the one to apologize, [Name]. I shouldn’t have pushed you too far. If you don’t wish to speak about him or hear of his person, then I won’t tell of him at all.”

Peruveere’s patience ate at [Name]’s heart, flooding it with guilt. Words said on a whim that hurt her friend’s heart when all she ever wanted to do was ensure that [Name] could live with someone by her side.

Perhaps Peruveere did understand. Maybe she understood far more than [Name] could have.

“If only my family was as accepting as you.” [Name] could only smile at her kindness, squeezing the hand that held hers.

The two friends laughed at the thought knowing well that the heavens would fall before the great house of [L/n] weakens their immovable resolve. [Name]’s lineage wasn’t exactly known for being one of the friendly fellows of the kingdom, with their emotionless fronts, and closely guarded connections, it proved to be difficult to even just see one of their own walking down the streets as leniently as [Name] did. Their headstrong attitudes and unrelenting tendencies to stop at nothing to get what they wanted drove any and all coming acquaintances away.

It was a miracle that [Name] even had Peruveere for this long.

“I just… don’t wish to be unhappy all my life.” [Name] admits sadly, choosing to look at the dust littered on the cobblestone path.

“What do you mean?”

The chatters of everyday life seemed to blend in with all the colors of Khaenri'ah, until all that remained was the echo of the man loved by all… and yet loved only her.

She laughs and caught Peruveere’s stare with a net of fear—frightened of the uncertainty that came with a person like Il-Capitano. “I hear what people say about him, too, you know. The ever-righteous Captain, the nigh-invincible Captain, the brave and fearless Captain.”

“All good traits, are they not?”

[Name] gave her a pained stare, “When people put him in that light, he is. Yet all the same, it paints him in a different color… like he’s so far away. Don’t you fear that someone possessing such unprecedented righteousness is a latent danger? How… how could someone like that ever truly live? Will he ever truly confide? What if I am the embodiment of all that he detests—everything he cannot accept? Could he still bring himself to love me just as he proclaims?”

“You have yet to know that, [Name].” Peruveere shook her head, trying to coax her friend out of the spiralling doubt, “It isn’t fair to put assumptions on him when you haven’t given him the chance to act on how he really feels. He loves you. For eight long years he’s proven it, practically reformed the heavens so his adoration for you could be caged by the finiteness of this world!”

[Name] denied her friend’s suggestion, finding it too farfetched to be bled into reality.

How could she bring herself to believe his sentiments to be true when the prime of his promises to her had been broken from the moment he turned his back on her that fateful night?

I want to love you, I really do… but what would become of me if I gave it all to you once more? I know it’s tiring to love—to wait. I know I’m not the only one drowning in this ocean of grief when a thousand others were subjected to the same heartache.

But why does it feel like such a sin to love you now?

I don’t know how I’ll free myself from this fear—this soul-binding fear of leaving it all behind.

“Love is an illusion, Peruveere. We believe it because we haven’t seen what’s beyond that. That just as easily as you claim it to be true, it is just as easily gone—taken away before we know it.”

Because what if I did do it—leave everything behind? And what if beyond that, you will leave me, too?

Peruveere sighed in surrender. [Name] spoke words of fear, sentiments plunged in the depths of heartache, a great many things to project hostility but they all meant one thing: come and save me—if you truly love me, take me away from here. That much she understood, it was [Name] who was blinded by her shadows who remained cloaked in ignorance.

“But he might prove you wrong if you give him a chance.”

At her words, [Name] raised her head to look at her, and Peruveere took it as a sign to continue.

“Tell him of your grievances, what makes you happy, the things that upset you. Perchance you might find him a lot more flattering than he does you. He isn’t asking you for a thousand chances [Name], just one.”

‘Can I escort you to town, my lady?’

‘May I have the next dance, Lady [Name]?’

‘Please, do me the honor of accepting my hand.’

“And what if it doesn’t work?” She whispers, feeling the tears prickle at the back of her eyes.

Peruveere smiles, caressing the hills of her cheeks, “You’d be surprised at how often it does.”

The lady found herself tracing the paths of the past. How the pillars of her fear formed the walls that guard her frail heart. Underneath the mountains of rejection, blanketed by years' worth of injustice, numbed by the unrelenting march of time, there existed a version of her… who had once loved the knight more than there were stars in the sky.

“Are you so ugly that you have to hide behind a canvas of the evening sky?”

The masked squire pivoted on his heel, nearly swatting her head off clean with the wooden practice sword.

“Whoa—hey!”

A flock of birds flew away from the volume of her voice, shaking the foliage bordering the courtyard. A gentle breeze swayed between the falling leaves, scattering a palette of white and yellow petals in their wake, painting upon the once-green lands with their hue.

Domed by the artificial Khaenri'ahn sky, a young lady and a young boy stood face to face. One with a soul as radiant as the stars in the heavens crouching down to cover her head, and another dyed in the color of the midnight sun, entranced by her abrupt advent.

As if realizing the silence left by their strange encounter, the masked boy quickly got down on one knee and struggled to find the words to say, fearful that he might be offending a prominent figure in court. “I apologize, my lady. I did not mean to endanger you in any way.”

The young woman, as though struck by the reminder of their difference in status, quickly gathered herself: pulling her figure from the ground, patting away the micro spectacle of dust that had managed to touch her expensive dress.

“Ahem.” She cleared her throat, every bit of her mannerisms hinting that she was not used to interacting in such a formal fashion—as though she was not used to interacting at all! She took a peek at his still kneeling form, not finding him the least bit familiar, he must be new. She memorized the slouch in his shoulders, the hesitation in his movements, the threads of obsidian hair protruding from under his ridiculous helmet.

“You are pardoned, please rise.”

A younger version of [Name] stood before the young boy.

“You are most kind, my lady.”

The one who would soon be known as Capitano.

The lady, curious of his reasons for hiding his face, went by the gardens to pursue an answer. Unfailingly, for three full moons and a crescent, she sought out his company. Finding even the most mundane questions of everyday life directed at him, yet the prime interest she had was not answered until the first fall of the snow.

“I hope you like the cakes. The helpers in the kitchen always seem to make far too much of it,” the young lady walked around the edge of the winter wonders, watching as the young knight trained even under the descent of the cold. “And because no one wants to share them with me, I am left to enjoy them all.”

The young knight, ever so subtly, turned his head in her direction, a small gesture to let her know that despite his straining routines he would always make room for the things she had to share.

“I’m glad to be the one who shares them with you, my lady.”

[Name] caught herself smiling at the knight, feeling as the flames stemmed from her racing heart all the way to the horizons of her fingertips, casting fire to the hills of her cheeks, the bowels of her soul—the embers in her mind.

No words followed those fleeting sentences, only the breaths of a diligent knight, and a lady brimmed with adoration. The heavens falling to witness the waltz of two souls, dancing to the melody of a tune made to bind for all eternity.

The knight ceased his practice, drawing nearer to the lady waiting by the steps.

She could have watched him from the balcony, or not at all yet here… in this place shrouded with the harshness of winter, closer to where he was—there, she stayed.

He began to wonder, when did I begin to see like this? As though all of the heavens and the earth only came into being so they could hold you. What greatness did I do… that I am worthy to behold you? That I am so fortunate to have existed in a time—a place where I could love you as much as I desired?

Driven by the intensity of his emotions, the knight turned his back and began to walk away from her.

The lady, unsure of what to make of it all, snickered under her breath. [Name] found his behavior strangely endearing, to think one of the most skilled in knighthood could have been rendered flustered just by the thoughts running in his head was something not even the greatest of alchemists could conjure.

With a small laugh, [Name] stepped a foot into the snow followed by another, slowly tracing the footprints the knight in front of her had carved into the winter treasures.

The knight, who had initially only intended to break away for a few seconds, took notice of the way his lady had started to walk upon the path he made. With a smile of his own, he began to take wider steps, knowing that she would surely start to struggle.

[Name] had to leap in her step to continue her little fun, but the added distance in the interval of his steps along with the weight of her clothes had her stumbling a few moments later.

The young knight, ever so quick in his steps, turned with swift haste, catching her in his arms before she could hit the snowy ground.

A different object, however, had fallen into the snow.

“Oh,” Her breath was painted white from the cold, yet her eyes reflected the deep blues of the irises that looked to her with such ardent affection. “You aren’t ugly.”

But stars did not shine, they burned. And just as quickly did the snow thaw, the reality of their distant worlds had dawned on them. Lightning painted the canvas of their skies, ripping it open for the rain to fall—dousing the embers of their adoration for one another.

“Please… I beg you, do not go.” An older lady clung to the cloths of a man’s armor, hugged by the artificial lights of the Khaenri'ahn sky… the two lovers held onto one another as though it was their last day on this land.

The man touched the lady’s cheeks, ridding the mar of silver water racing down the canvas of her face. “I must, my dear. It is my duty.”

The Serpent Knights have been called to defend the borders of the kingdom from the ill-will of the abyss. A duty that was promised honor, gratitude, and legacy whether they emerged victorious or not—whether they returned breathing or not at all.

[Name]’s father was a knight bestowed the rank Captain, prestige that came with the comfort of wealth, and the oath of power. But for her mother, who loved her husband dearly, all it came with was the looming danger, the never-ending saga of fearing for his life.

And even if [Name] was still beyond the sense of maturity, she could piece apart that much.

Many words were exchanged by her mother and father, promises of eternity, a love to last a thousand lifetimes and a thousand more after that, that her mother only needed to wait—wait, and surely, her husband would return to her.

Yet as selfish as it sounds, even if oaths were broken and lives were lost, her mother didn’t want her father to go.

“It is also your duty to stay by your family’s side! We need you—I… I need you.”

“But the people need me more.”

[Name] who was watching from behind a towering pillar, looked at her father in disbelief, feeling as the little crevices in her heart began to rip its surface clean. Silently coming to terms with the truth that knights and all that they were associated with will always, unfailingly, put their duty above any other.

The real world was not like the stories her father had told her. Knights do not stay with the people they love when a kingdom is in threaten for ruin… they go out there and fight for the kingdom they had sworn to protect.

Even if it cost them their lives.

Even if the price paid for a momentary tranquility is the anguish of a broken heart, a wife’s grief for the loss of a husband, a daughter’s heart shattered to a million irreparable pieces at the loss of a father, a family torn apart so another could live completely.

And as if the universe wanted to play, [Name] found herself looking into the abyssal canvas of his face on the far side of the courtyard, almost as if she was asking him the same request as her mother did to her father.

‘Don’t go…’

But she knew that this righteous knight, the ever so brave recruit, the nigh-invincible young Capitano was the same as her honorable father.

Even if the price paid for a momentary equanimity was the silence of a lover, the heartache of a soul left alone in the world, a heart once entrusted to the hands of those who had sworn never to break it, shattered by the same hands.

Because that was the price you paid for loving a knight.

The weight of the years numbed the pain, and the tears had blurred the memories. Yet all the same, it proved that no matter how deep the valley that severed their ties, it could not hide the lingering affection littering the oceans of their skies.

"Oh, Il-Capitano~ Commander of the Royal Army."

“We have most patiently awaited your safe return.”

“What an honor it is to have someone like you in the kingdom’s service.”

Nobilities and common people alike gushed at the arrival of the esteemed commander. One enshrouded in the colors of the night, with what looked like the heaviest coat in all of mankind draped over his shoulders.

He marched through the gates of the kingdom perched atop his tall, midnight steed. And as if feeling her drilling stare, that faceless helmet turned to gaze in her direction. A simple gesture, one which a stranger could have passed as nothing but a meaningless movement, but to [Name]… she knew, that it meant more to the knight than the praises sung at his name.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or the sadness clawing its way out of her soul. [Name] would have taken any other explanation, any other reason, so long as it wasn’t the one forcing its way through her throat.

For a fleeting second, everything had crumbled away. In the place of that tall, imposing, broad-shouldered knight was a younger boy, one whose eyes looked far too hesitant to urge the stallion forward, his form was slouched, often kneeling before her, he who had promised the world.

Yet when she blinked, both figures were gone, one buried under the weight of time, and the other marching forward, once again turning his back on her.

No longer a young, naïve, lovestruck squire but a revered commander, righteous, brave, and powerful.

Rumors in the plaza spoke about how the Commander never smiled, or that there was nothing in his life other than his duty and the endless battles against the abyss. But the conversation that sparked about the most was the mystery behind his mask.

Others spoke that his face had been scarred by his countless conquests that he had no choice but to hide it from his enemies, while some say that he was born unfortunate in the department of looks therefore forcing him to wear such a thing to shield his deformed face from the eyes of the public.

But [Name] knew otherwise.

“Isn’t this exciting, [Name]?” Her friend, Peruveere, looks to her with eager eyes.

The young lady was a descendant of the previous dynasty, named Crimson Moon. Peruveere was the one who had so boldly claimed to be her friend after [Name] had thrown a fistful of flowers at her by accident.

[Name] shrugged and pretended to be indifferent to it all, forcing herself to look away as she felt his stares burn holes into her very being. "Eh, I've fallen witness to better."

That was a lie, of course.

The only one that could ever hope to best him in anything was himself, and [Name] was sure that the ever so charming Il-Capitano, Commander of the Royal Army, knew that for himself. But [Name] would rather eat all the snow in her courtyard than have to admit that to his face or anyone for that matter.

"The cats loitering the streets would hiss at you for saying that. Even they admire Capitano." Peruveere shook [Name] back and forth as she eagerly watched as the fleet of soldiers march back to the palace grounds.

[Name] tried to ignore the incessant beatings of her heart at the mention of his name. One which she hasn’t spoken in a long, long while.

"He looks far more miserable since the last I saw him." She unconsciously whispers, tracing the outlines of his shadows until his figure is nothing but a speck in the far-off distance.

Then again, how long has it been since I last saw you? Certainly not long enough!

"Perhaps it's because you keep declining him." Peruveere perks, smiling pointedly at [Name] who was still looking in the direction of the castle.

The lady let out a bitter chuckle, of course, I’d never marry him!

Capitano returned to her all those moons ago, nearly after three years, he returned.

But by then, her heart had come to realize the weight of his promises. That next to his duties, they meant absolutely nothing.

"Oh, woe. His poor soul." She emptily comments, finally tearing her gaze away from the reminder of his broken oaths.

"Please, [Name]. Miserable, yes. But poor he most certainly is not." Peruveere hooks an arm with [Name] and dragged her to descend the steps of her balcony.

"Do tell, Peruveere." [Name] rolls her eyes at her friend's antics, with half a mind listening to her ramble on and on about the oh-so-amazing Capitano, as they walked the now-empty streets to the plaza.

"All that power and wealth to his name and he commands half the Royal Army." Peruveere boasts as though speaking about that man made his achievements hers as well.

She really does hold that… man in high regard.

"The miserable half?" [Name] jests, leaving a fuming noble lady on the side of the street.

And so, tired of the longing glances and hearing the rhythm of two souls crying for one another, the heavens had moved to have it ceased…

Far into the depths of the night, when the trees slept and the lands were blanketed in silence, [Name] found herself standing by the steps that led to a courtyard.

Although this time, the space before her was covered with blades of grass and blossoming flora, the breeze was not sharp but rather a gentle lull in the ever-growing warmth of the season—a great contrast to a time when this place was riddled with cold, covered in his footsteps, thriving in the words he had no intention of keeping.

‘My lady,’ he whispers, drawing nearer to her. Close enough that his breath tangled with hers as the warmth of his hand draped over the hills of her reddened cheeks. ‘My heart calls your name, unfailingly, every night. My soul desires to see you—far too much that it has my gaze lingering in everything that reminds me of you. Each day, this feeling in me grows and I fear that the skies can no longer house them.’

‘I love you, [Name]… most ardently, please allow me the honor of staying by your side—’

“[Name].”

The sudden call broke the young lady from her daydreams. She turned hastily to meet the tired eyes looking straight at her.

“Mother.”

With the golden light of the chandelier seeping past the windowpanes, the scenery before her nearly resembled a painting of the heavens… except, the subject’s face was dyed in colors of loneliness—her mother’s heart died along with her father many, many years ago.

“You have a visitor.” She states plainly before tracing back her steps to enter the house once again.

[Name] furrowed her brows in confusion at who could be visiting her at this ungodly hour. Surely, Peruveere was sound asleep by now, and even if she wasn’t, her mother would never go as far as tell [Name] of her presence when she was already known by her entire family—she’s my only friend, it would be strange for them to do so.

As she stormed her brain for any other acquaintances who might be brave enough to knock on the gates of her home, the sounds of heavy footfalls and the clinking of metal chains flew past her ears.

Until a large body loomed over her fretting figure.

Even if she dared not to look, the stranger’s shadow—all broad-shouldered and imposing—already told her enough that this was no acquaintance.

Are you starving for another rejection? You really are thick-faced…

“Commander.” She greets coldly, curtsying for the sake of formality, rising once more to bravely look at the nothingness that shielded his face.

For a moment, Capitano did not know what to say, rendered speechless by the weight of reality that she really was standing in front of him. No longer crowds apart, no wall stopping him from seeing her, no meddling audience.

Just him and her, at last.

“You look well, my lady.” He smiles, although it was quickly wiped away by the steely expression still plastered on her face as well as the realization that she could not see him.

“I have no interest in making small talk with you, Commander.” [Name] looks away, turning her attention to any other thing that wasn’t the darkness in the place of his visage. “Speak of what you want and be done with it.”

A faint click resounded in the silent atmosphere followed by a small sound of something hitting the earth. Capitano decides then, that if [Name] was going to drive him away no matter his intentions, it was best to just be honest and let all this tangled mess unravel thread by thread, even if it cut and strangled him in the process.

“Your mother… desires our union.”

[Name] spun on her heels at the imprudent claim, raising a finger to point at him daringly, “By that you mean—you desire this union.”

The now unmasked knight gently shook his head in denial, taking a small piece of parchment from the insides of his cloak, one which was sealed in the sigil of her house.

In a hurried panic, the noble lady swiped the paper from his hand, and every bit of him burned at the faintest graze of her touch.

With unbattered patience, Capitano watched as her eyes traced the ink that was bled onto the paper. He was over the stars, yes, but above all else, he wanted to know… if she wished for this to come into reality.

“You schemed this.” [Name] looks to him in disbelief, a line of silver brimming the horizons of her eyes. She clutched the paper so tightly that the mountains of her knuckles had been painted white, and the parchment had nothing left to do but rip apart at the center from the intensity of her hold.

Capitano awaited her to draw nearer, pressing his lips together before he whispered, “I did not.”

“You did.” She insisted, stopping in her trails once she was close enough to look him straight in the eye. “Because why now, out of the many times I have been suave by some nobleman did my mother finally agree? To you, no less. And I mean that in every possible offense.”

His ocean eyes searched the contours of her face for any hints of remorse, traces of hesitation, creases of consideration—even the littlest of faults, he would have accepted. If she was hiding them, her true emotions, even just a speck of the love he once held in the palm of his hands, then he must let her know that she was doing a splendid job.

“Why do you detest me so?” He asks softly, unconsciously raising a hand to caress her face but before he could, [Name] had already turned away.

The lady let out a loud scoff and began to walk away from him, blatantly avoiding his questioning gaze.

Unable to hide his frustration, the knight gambled his chances. "Tell me then, that I am not wanted."

[Name] halted in her steps, still looking in the direction of the bordering trees. Desperately ignoring the echoes of a treasured memory formed once upon a time in the same place she stood upon now.

“Leave, Commander.” She says, in a tone so bitter she could almost taste it.

“Look me in the eye, My Lady.” He urges demandingly, softly— “Step forth and tell me that you no longer want me. Scream at me. Command me to step aside, show me that I am the last man in this world you could ever want to marry. Then, my heart is yours to break.”

Capitano was not one to relent, choosing to close the distance between them in a few calculated steps, standing in front of her way.

“Tell me, what I did to have warranted your aggression. I will make it right, and I swear to you that I will do no such thing to tarnish your honor or be the center of your unhappiness.”

And after many, many years, [Name] finally gathered the courage she stacked upon one another and looked him in the eyes. That same pair of irises, dyed in the colors of the ocean that haunted her every waking moment.

“You Serpent Knights and your promises. Cease them already! You know you will break them sooner or later—you always do, unfailingly. And you always will.” She seethes, hitting his chest as if doing so would make the pain in hers hurt less.

“I will not.” He counters, raising his arms to wrap around her frame.

“You will. Don’t lie to me!”

“I won’t, and I would never.”

[Name] clutched a fistful of his clothing, pulling him closer to her—far too near that one push would have his lips grazing hers.

“Alright then, swear to me right now that you—that you will not die. That when we are wed, you will return to me no matter what—there will stand no mountain, no ocean, nor lifetimes between you and me. Swear it. Say it to me right now.”

Capitano stares at her silence, long gone was the frail young lady who adored pastries. Her eyes shone in a vibrant light, the walls around her heart falling brick by brick to allow him the honor of gazing at the years of anguish she had endured by his single mistake, the passion in her eyes burning straight through his will to speak. This was the most she had ever spoken to him.

“I… ” He whispers, desperately fighting off the urge to just draw nearer and end this agony. I love you.

“You can’t.”

[Name] laughs bitterly, freeing her hold on him and walking past his figure.

No matter the years that passed him by, Il-Capitano remains the same righteous, brave, and powerful Serpent Knight. [Name] was not about to succumb to the shackles of matrimony with the inkling thought that she be a widow once the threat of war arose. She will not go down a sinking boat. Be married to a dying man.

“That’s a big promise.” Capitano swallows the lump in his throat as he watches her walk about the garden, ever so close to walking away completely. And he had this inkling thought, if she were to leave his sight right now, he would never see her again.

‘You’re drawing the shorter end of the stick with me,’ those were her words all those years ago, when his attempts were nothing but a flickering flame. Naïve, in the kindest words; half meant, in the worst.

Still, the way she had so kindly given him a choice on the matter had him steel his resolve. How easy it must have been for her to say no, tell him off—that she wishes to never see his face again, be near his soul, or be reminded of his existence—but she didn’t.

Even if it slipped her thoughts, what she gave him all those moments ago… was a chance.

One chance. One take. One moment to make it all right.

And all of the heavens will be damned if he did not take it.

Capitano did not speak of love to her, rather he showed it with every atom of his being. In every breath he took, all the gazes he sent her way, in his lingering but persistent affection. There, right along with him… his love had existed.

[Name] remains in silence, trying to suppress the trembling of her voice. He was not one to relent, not then… and most certainly not now.

It was useless trying to get soldiers to choose their personal attachments over the good of the many. That’s why I dearly detest them. Why allow yourself to love, to make home in the heart of another… only to leave and never return?

Capitano waited for her, even when there was no guarantee that she could love him in return.

If she would have him, he would have all the eternities to tell her he loves her.

But here, when she is not so accepting of him, he would not do it.

‘I would rather live my days as the most unfortunate man to ever come into being than to live a life where you do not know that I love you.’

And his sentiments had sought him in his every waking moment.

“But for you, anything.”

[Name]’s world came to a standstill.

Every star nestled in the depths of the cosmos had ceased their dance. Blackholes frozen mid-spin. Nebulas that scattered like clouds lulling at the echo of his words. It drifted from galaxy to galaxy, in different timelines, in every version of existence.

"I would have seized the stars for you if you asked." He continues, taking step after step to close the distance between them, a silent promise that once she allows him to be near—a place in her life where he could stay, he would never leave.

Capitano could never have fathomed the gravity of those words, pulling every world she built, the doubts, the longing, every molecule of eagerness... they collided, spun, condensed, and burst forth to resound his words for all the eternities to come.

"The stars?" She echoes.

Everything began spinning fast—too fast. The colors around her merged, blurring her surroundings until all she could see was him.

"Taken every single one of them." He affirms, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. "I would tally the heartbeats of every single thing that has ever lived on this planet, count the grain of sands in the deserts, drain the oceans, freeze the skies—you will only ever need to ask… and I will make it so. This is how much I would love you, if you will have me. You only ever need to say one word. Speak my name, and I am yours... from now until you are sick of me, 'til the last of the embers burn out into oblivion, until life ceases to exist—even beyond the destruction of nothingness—I am yours."

She allowed him to cross the distance between them. Not raising a hand in protest when the expanse of his palm had covered the plains of her cheeks.

She didn’t utter a single rejection when he touched her forehead with his, not even when his nose brushed against hers.

"In your acceptance, and in your denial... I am yours. In death and life. In the wake of destruction and reform. In this soul—before and beyond. Yours... and no one else's."

She didn’t do anything, even when the softness of his lips had descended on the meadows of her hairline.

Capitano, her memory reminded. Oh, but how could she ever forget? Not when he was looking at her like that—like one word from her would send him to paradise. She should be the one looking at him like that.

Because as it stands, [Name] was already there—in paradise—as though his soul was the shadow that guards her everyday life, the scent of flowers that follows her like daylight… the love that soothes her heart, every time he was away.

And so, the woman set her heart free and granted the knight a chance.

The lady and the knight loved with a love that was more than love.

Affection that was far from perfect, but they were made perfect for each other.

And so… love was made perfect for us.

The sound of waves crashing against the rocky mountains filled their hearts with ease. Nothing but the serene symphonies of nature pooling within the depths of their ears.

A thousand wonders brought by autumn descended from the trees, now looking as if they were reaching for the vast, multi-painted sky above. The breeze carried the leaves dyed in shades of vermillion and gold, scattering them across the earth.

The lady’s sudden laugh broke apart the peaceful atmosphere, making his heart tremble in delight as his head ever so slightly looked to her direction.

The way the late afternoon breeze danced with the threads on her head, eyes reflecting that of the sun which sat on the hands of the seemingly never-ending ocean. Her face that looked as if a painter spilled a bucket of orange dye on it.

His deep-colored irises stared at her with wonder.

And Capitano thought to himself, how could anyone… be as lovely as her?

Feeling his gaze fall upon her, the lady tilted her head in confusion, a small yet playful smile resting upon her lips. "What are you looking at, man?"

Raising his bare hand, the knight gently rested it on her cheek, leaning in to touch her forehead with his before momentarily closing his eyes only to open them and whisper...

"I'm looking at you, woman."

The lady wondered then how she could have endured denying the knight for so long when the light of his love was something she now no longer knew how to live without. She asks the heavens for answers, and sometimes even herself if the reason she was born long ago was so she could live in this plane of existence… and be loved by him.

The day the heavens bestowed upon the land a gift so majestic and wonderful that the earth has marveled upon it ever since its descent from the gentle hands of the clouds was beginning to dawn upon them once more.

At least... to the knight who loved her dearly, it was his interpretation of the special occasion. Her birthday. He was always so dramatic, that one.

His ocean-dyed eyes stared lovingly at the lady who stood not too far from where he was currently leaning against the threshold,

The knight observed the woman from a distance. His heart free from wickedness.

Ever righteous, they spoke of him. But with her, Capitano was certain he would do unspeakable things to those who dared bring her harm. Brave, still… he feared her denial—that a day will come when she realizes she did not want him anymore. Powerful, so why did he feel no power when he stood next to her?

Why was he anything but their depictions when she was the one standing in front of him? [Name] could have seen him as anything… yet she chose to see him as he was, as Capitano. No more, and certainly no bit less.

He loved her so, even more than his own life. And his affection for her flourished like fresh spring flowers each and every single passing day.

There was just absolutely nothing about her that he couldn't adore. The little things like how she would swivel and sway with the leaves when she danced with the melody of the breeze, exclaiming that the years of arduous dance practices had finally been put to good use, or when she would hum a tune when the silence was too heavy to bear.

To the knight, everything she did represented grace and beauty in a different light. She was simply just... heavenly.

When the light of the crescent moon penetrated through the curtain of clouds, the knight knew that the awaited day has been gifted to both him and to the woman he loved.

The gentle rhythm of waves crashing against the shoreline filled the silence left by the cold evening.

As quiet and light as a feather, he approached her, draping a shawl over her shoulders before sitting right next to her on the bench.

The woman was not the least bit startled by her lover's stealthy advance, far used to it more than she would have liked to admit. In the place of caution was peace; his presence helped calm whatever disaster was brewing up within her.

And ever so subtly, his warm fingers interlaced with her own. The little touches had flames burning at the tips of their fingers, crawling their way to the caves of their hearts, bursting forth to drape them in a blanket of fiery warmth.

"My dear, the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?" The woman's gaze turned towards her lover the moment his endearment left his lips—a far wanted term than the ever-so-formal my lady.

"Indeed, it is..." A gentle smile replaced the previous dazed expression that had been painted upon her face.

Nothing more was said within the next few passing moments. No words in all the letters of the worlds could describe the way their souls seemed to long for the other's presence.

"Thank you, my love." She spoke in a gentle whisper, leaning her head to rest on the expanse of his shoulder.

The midnight-eyed knight craned his head to face the lady who was still staring at the moon, admiring the way the lights above reflected the colors of her face.

"What for?" He questioned, unconsciously rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

She gave his hand a subtle embrace of her own, smiling at him with such gentleness that he was afraid she'd break at the lightest of caresses. "For staying..."

For remaining by my side even if there was nothing for you but denial. For your persistence. For your affection. For everything and anything all at once. That you’ve loved me even if I was the least deserving of it. Because you didn’t surrender.

You had so many chances to give it all up��so many reasons to grow weary and leave, but you didn’t. You found reasons to stay.

Caught off guard, the knight could only stare at her. An unexplainable blend of emotions swirling within the pools of blue that tinted his irises.

I’m happy to be at the end of your adoration.

He chuckled at her sentimental declaration, indeed... everything she did was absolutely breathtaking.

"Come." He urged, tugging at their entangled limbs, prompting her to rise to her feet.

"Alright, alright..." she laughs, "so impatient."

And with the flick of his wrist, Capitano interlocked their hands once more. His bare hand found anchor on her waist, pulling her closer to him.

Resting his forehead against hers, he swayed her to a melody that was nothing but silence for the rest of the world and yet a string of sounds of the most wonderful tunes for the two of them.

Indeed, love does work in mysterious ways.

The commander unhooked his hands from hers, circling one around her back, while the other carded the threads settled upon her head.

"Happy birthday to you, my love." He whispers, his featherlight breath tickling the shell of her ear. "Make a wish."

Just as how he embraced her with utmost respect and adoration, she did the same for him: hugging him tighter as she muttered the words that made his heart almost leap out of his chest.

"Be mine."

Capitano tucked away the stubborn lock of hair behind her ear, gazing deeply into the depths of her irises, memorizing the lines etched on her pupils, the way her lashes would graze her cheeks in the stray moments where she blinked. I’m in love with you. He hung those reminders of her like stars, formed constellations in her glory so that he may be reminded that no matter where he went… a place exists—a time existed—where she and he lived under the same moon.

"Already yours."

But the angels, not half so happy in the stars, envied the love of the knight and the lady. And that was the reason as all men knew, had them move everything to have their love ceased…

Magnificent, that was what he was.

Rain clouds blotted the vast sky, casting shadows upon the face of the lady who stood by the loggia. Her feet freezing her to where she stood as her eyes settled on the dark gloom ahead. The once gentle gale of the season had turned sharp, as though they carried shards of broken glass along with their escape. She listened intently to the whispers of the people, carried by the trees who had lived long enough to tell the tale of a dynasty made strong by human hands.

Her vision, though still a bit hazy, had begun merging the two-layered images that had played out in front of her: the sun that was nearing the end of its time of the day—little twinkling dots that had scattered across the palette of colors that painted the sky, and him, the anchor amidst this hell-bound storm.

His words flew from one ear and out the other, all she saw was the crumbling castle, pillars that held every brick and structure made strong by humans be submerged into the depths of the waters below.

What a terrifying sight indeed, such treasures kept hidden from the cruelty of this world.

And ever so softly did she feel a gentle tug on her hand, a small affectionate gesture that had urged her to move forward in order to match the pace of the one in front of her. Slowly but surely, her sight had focused on a man whose back was turned against her, the gentle yet impactful approach of the frost wiping away the footprints he had imprinted as he had continued to lead her to his desired destination.

Up on that hill stood a tall gateway, towering pillars of nothingness standing on either side.

Embers descended from the sky like the first fall of snow, and the flames of the heavens shone brightly as though they were stars.

His feet carried him from the bloodied pavement and onto the grassy ground that had covered the small hill.

“Go.” He whispers, pushing her towards her escape.

It felt cruel to do this to her—to [Name]. To ask the only woman he loved… to let him go.

Their laughter resonated within the empty atmosphere of that scenery. Her smile, so bright it put even the setting sun to shame. But now, only the thought of reality remained, crushing them from its weight.

“No.” [Name] shook her head, latching onto his bloodied sleeve, preventing him from marching back to all that desolation. “Don’t go, please. I beg you… don’t—Capitano, please.” [Name] fell to her knees, the seams of her clothing dyed in the hue of life that stained his shoes.

“[Name]…” His hands blanketed hers, gently—desperately trying to pry her grip open.

“No. No, no… you—you swore to me. You promised me. You gave me your word.”

Her ears struggled to process what her Knight was saying. Everything sounded as if she was submerged in water and yet her eyes could see the knight tense and stagger as he fought to keep his own morals for her survival.

Capitano knelt before her, discarding the veil he put upon his head, just as he once did all those moons ago.

He knelt beside her and caged her face between his hands. Capitano took it all in, everything. From the way the threads laid upon her head shone under what little luminescence embraced them, her ears that pointed a little too sharply, the little dots that littered her skin, her eyes brimmed with silver, the rivers of water that raced down her rose-dyed cheeks, the tremble of her lips, ones that he had never got to taste—and he never will. He seized them all, plucked them one by one, and hung them like stars. He engraved them all in his darkened sky—swore to heaven and earth that he would look to them every night... because after this moment, he knew he would never see them again. “And I intend to keep it.”

Finally, as twilight settled upon the two lovers, the knight turned and faced the woman he loved so dearly—for the last time, the last time in a good long while.

"Wait for me, my love. Wait for me, and I'll come back to you."

Even with her silver-brimmed gaze, the magnificently terrifying sight of a giant wall frosting into creation had slowly seeped into the crevices of her being, serving as the cold that froze her heart.

Through the tears, she stared at his unmoving figure. This time, Capitano was facing the enemy.

“I hear what people say about him, too, you know. The ever-righteous Captain, the nigh-invincible Captain, the brave and fearless Captain.”

“All good traits, are they not?”

Il-Capitano.

“When people put him in that light, he is. Yet all the same, it paints him in a different color… like he’s so far away. Don’t you fear that someone possessing such unprecedented righteousness is a latent danger? How… how could someone like that ever truly live? Will he ever truly confide? What if I am the embodiment of all that he detests—everything he cannot accept? Could he still bring himself to love me just as he proclaims?”

The ever so righteous commander, the brave and fearless captain, the powerful captain.

“You have yet to know that, [Name]. It isn’t fair to put assumptions on him when you haven’t given him the chance to act on how he really feels. He loves you. For eight long years he’s proven it, practically reformed the heavens so his adoration for you could be caged by the finiteness of this world!”

But to her, he was simply just Capitano.

The commander she loved.

“I hope you like the cakes. The helpers in the kitchen always seem to make far too much of it, and because no one wants to share them with me, I am left to enjoy them all.”

“I’m glad to be the one who shares them with you, my lady.”

The kind and affectionate captain. My one love… Capitano.

“I love you.” She whispers to the wind.

It dawns on her then, that she never really said those to him. Capitano told it to her through a hundred thousand different actions yet she—she had never told him. Not even once.

“I love you…”

And now…

[Name] didn't fear if another war was to come, nor did she fear that he would turn his back on her and cast her away again—no.

What caused her heartbreak was the certainty that after this... nothing would follow.

She would be stuck in stagnancy; in an endless cycle of trying to figure out what she could've done better. How she could have changed his fate, free him from the holds of death. Wondering that if she did things differently then things wouldn't end up like this—that she wouldn't have to be forced to see him leave… when she wasn’t ready to let him go.

I just got you… don’t—don’t leave me so soon. Please…

Deep down, no matter how much she tried to deny, [Name] knew what would come once she opens her eyes.

“… thank you for the adventure.”

To my Captain—darling, dearest, dead.

Many suns have risen. The lands are riddled with ruins of dynasties who once thought they would last for eternity. And the gods have been replaced… yet here, I remain. In this desolation, in the midst of destruction, cradled under a hundred thousand lights, I linger.

The echo of your laughter haunts me—even if more than half a millennium has dawned. I have seen more than a myriad of faces, descendants of those who once believed they would parent no children… and every time I do, I am reminded of you.

Of your ardent affection, and bold declarations. Your promises of eternity, and the dedication that came along with it—yet you were the first to fall, the first to stand against the ones who threatened our home.

Your love will see me in forever. Just as you had sworn. You, however, will not.

My Captain… my love, my darling… my dearest.

When we crossed paths, my life began. As though the once monochromatic mundaneness of my every waking moment was dyed in thousands of shades of color by your dark, and brooding figure. I told you, didn’t I? That when I pictured my life beyond it all, it would not be with you. I spoke the words, ‘I would prefer to eat the remains of field tillers than be courted by the likes of you’, still, you did not relent. I once had thought that you were a madman, choosing me out of everyone else—when you could have had anyone, yet you declared your love was mine to hold. I told you that you were getting the short end of the stick with me… and you said the words, ‘I’d rather live as the most unfortunate man for all my days than to live a life where I cannot love you’. So dramatic, that you are. If you weren’t a commander, you could pass as an actor.

Sometimes, love came as simple as staring at the moon—but sometimes, it was as arduous as forcing the heavens to align. Still, I loved doing both for you.

My life began the moment you made yourself known to me. My Captain, my dearest… my one true love.

I once had thought that the hardest thing in life was to find someone you couldn’t live without… but now it seems that it’s harder to live life without him—without you.

My life began with you, so why is it that before long, yours had ended…?

Your love was my haven, a paradise in this space riddled with chaos—comfort in a place destined to ruin.

Oh, but how quickly did it all crumble. How hasty sunshine leaves when the rain clouds loom. And how the heavens cry when life is devoid of meaning… devoid of you.

What would the gods ask me to do? Who will the abyss have me become? What more do I have to surrender to have you return to me?

Tell me, and I’ll do it. I’d reform the universe if I must. I’ll make it so, if they would grant me another chance. Another life. Another universe. A next time—next life… to have even just a few more seconds with you. To have you tell me that you’ll be leaving—so I’ll be able to let you know… if I’m ready to let you go.

But if fate is kind, if destiny permits, and you find the chance to come home to me—I’ll cherish our mortality, no matter how fleeting. Even if you return with a face blanketed in shadows, memories as fragmented as the skies above, a body crumbling from the cruelty of time... I would still know you. Your soul sings of love in gentle lullabies, whispers as warm as sun-kissed fire, tethered with hopes for another morrow. I would know you. Even if I am caged by darkness, drowned in silence, slipping from the threads of life… I will know you.

And I will love you. I will love you all the same.

My Captain. My darling… my love.

In this space, in this life, how very fortunate was I to have loved and have been loved by you.

---

Domed by an endless blue sky, children of all ages slumbered for the welkin to shine upon. Stars drifted amidst the ether, sending all that lay within its path with promises of a home that differed in shape and size. Melodies of the late summer breeze echoed throughout the home of the hearth, swaying the curtains to the rhythm that it carried along.

[E/c] irises reflected all the hues the heavens had to offer, light that had traversed the bowels and lengths of the cosmos reached the ends of its journey when they drowned in the depths of her forlorn gaze.

“Thank you for accompanying the children, Lady [Name].”

Walking between the borders of dreams and reality, the Khaenri'ahn woman’s dazed figure snapped back to the present: eyes darting back and forth, left and right, desperately trying to search for the voice that rattled her solitude.

She has seen that face countless times, Arlecchino. The Knave. Wolf in sheep’s clothing, they call her. But to [Name], Arlecchino has always been kind. A little on the intimidating side yet remained kind either way.

Arlecchino was the one who took her from the Doctor’s hold and gave her a place to call home. She gave a stranger food and clothing, accepted her and let her be near the children.

Perhaps it’s that kindness that had her vision altering to picture someone else. The one who shares the same blood as that of a soul she knew so long ago.

It felt surreal—as though she was still stuck in that nightmare.

“[Name]…” A small voice called her from the side, before long, cold fingers clutched the hem of her sleeves.

The young woman turned her gaze to her friend, Peruveere. Her cross-marked eyes glistened with unshed tears, hands trembling from the weight of fear blossoming in her heart.

[Name] felt her heart drop at the vision before her. Blood stained her friend’s clothing, falling so freely down the concrete flooring. Part of her face had begun to be caged in frost, blinding her completely—yet she remained hesitant to freeze the one standing before her.

Fragments of her sanity had been lost… still, her heart remembered that the one in front of her was someone she would always love—even as the darkness threatened to swallow her whole.

Before [Name] could support the bleeding lady, a deafening sound shattered the earth, shaking the buildings, and marring the ground in deep valleys.

Peruveere looks to [Name]—an action she was surely going to miss, to see her beloved friend, her only friend, before the world ends—because she knew, seeing her won’t happen again for a long time.

What a great adventure it was… to have been friends with you. To be near close as sisters. Even when I was cast away by the rest, you remained. Even when you had nothing to gain from me, you remained.

“Run.” Peruveere gave her hand one last squeeze before she pushed her out of the balcony.

If fate allows, and destiny is kind… would you meet me in another life? Can I be born again… and take walks with you around the plaza? Throw flowers at strangers in another life? Talk behind other people’s backs in another life? Can we be friends again… in another life?

Can I have another chance… in another time… in another universe….

In another universe, in another time, another chance…

Lightning struck the place where [Name] once stood, then a blood-curling scream followed—Peruveere.

In the place of her ivory hair was a faceless entity, shrouded in obsidian and the colors of the sky. The hands that had once held hers so kindly had been covered by blades, claws in the place of fingers, a danger in the place of comfort.

“[NAME]!”

Thunder echoed in the skies, lightning broke apart the heavens, carving a way for the creatures of the abyss to swarm her home.

The woman had no strength to rise from where she had fallen, her eyes staring in shock at the way a wall of ice grew from the ground up—shielding her from the creature that overtook her friend.

Her only friend Peruveere…

Before long, the lady found herself looking into the void of someone’s face. Capitano.

Ringing in the depths of her eardrums was a rhythmic echo of stone crashing against the ground.

“My love.” She breathes, staring at him with hazed eyes as she looks to him and back over at the wall of frost. “Peruveere—something… I—I don’t—what is going on—she’s still out there, oh god—Peruveere.”

“[Name]—” Capitano caged her trembling hands in his, trying his best to rid of the blood that drenched the pads of her fingers.

“I—I’m never going to see her again.” She cries, gripping the hands that held her so tenderly. “She was my best friend, and I didn’t—I didn’t even hug her. I never even got to tell her that she was right. I’ll never get to tell her anything ever again—”

“—[e]? —[Name]? Lady [Name]?” The calls gradually faded into a dull echo, one tune called to her in a familiar way, warm, and kind… and the other was cold, and distant—the one that bled into reality.

[Name]’s search ended when she met a familiar cross-pupiled stare. A small, sorrowful smile carved its way onto her face.

“Ah, Peruveere… how nice of you to come back to life. Have you come to gloat on me and tell me of your fated premonitions.”

The Knave, far from the one called Peruveere, patiently corrected the immortal woman. “I apologize my lady, but I am not the person you speak of.”

Ah, I knew that.

“Oh. Are you certain? You look just like her, except your tongue is on a leash.” [Name] laughs softly, “Perhaps it’s better. I wouldn’t know if that fool could have stomached living for so long…”

More than anyone I know…

“Why is that?”

[Name] looks to Arlecchino with a playful smile, “Ah, are you sure you aren’t her? She used to ask me that countless of times. Always with the whys.” She laughs, caressing the side of her abyss-tainted face.

“I’ll tell you just this once, so listen closely… because she would have gone mad with grief—existing when all that she loves has gone.” She whispers softly, fighting back the tremble in her voice. No, she couldn’t burden this descendant with the memories of a friend lost in time.

But she took one look at her, the one they call Peruere, yet all she could see were the fragments of the one she called Peruveere.

If this was her way of telling [Name] the ‘I told you so’, she would take it.

Peruveere could gloat and gush and ramble on and on about the Knights of the Khaenri'ah and [Name] would be sure to listen.

“Though it would be nice to have walks with her again. And talk behind other people’s backs… throw flowers at pedestrians.”

They could take the longest way home, pick the food that would take hours to finish, watch the longest play at the theatre—anything, if it meant I’d get to be with you longer.

Arlecchino drew closer to where the Khaenri'ahn woman sat, shutting the windows close. “Maybe another time, my lady.” She offers kindly.

[Name] looks to the Harbinger with a small flickering hope. “Yes… another time, I’m afraid there exists no such thing as that for her.”

Her words had the white-haired woman stop in her wake, ‘I see’. “Then, perhaps, in another life.”

[Name] laughs bitterly, a droplet of stars falling from the eroding side of her face, “Another life… huh?”

"Can't you see?” She whispers, “That doesn’t exist. Not for me, or Peruveere. Not even for him who so valiantly declared his promises. There is no next time! There's no next life! There is no other universe. It's a nice sentiment, believe me, it is, but this is it. This is all we get. But god… what I wouldn't give to have a next time. A next life. To be given just another chance."

Another chance, and I’ll be true. Another life, and I’ll do you better. Another time, and I won’t waste a single second. Another universe… and I’ll love you right—far more than I could have here. Perhaps there, you can keep your vows, fulfill the promise you gave me.

I am here, my love… I’m still waiting.

I have faced many losing battles, the loss of my father, my dream, my heart shattered beyond repair. But in all of that, I had you. I had you and it was enough—enough for me to gather all my broken pieces and hope for another day.

Everything would be alright because I had you.

Everything would fall into place because you were there. And life would take on different forms, different meanings, different paths because I had you.

“I’m still here but where has he gone?” She asks.

But how would I find my way now?

Every ray of hope disappears before my eyes.

I'm not sure I even know what happiness means anymore.

My existence is no longer necessary in this world. The gift of life—the curse of immortality ever so potent, ever so meaningless when all else is gone.

“Tell me where to look—where to go, the promises I have to say, the gods I have to trick, what I must surrender. Only tell me the way… and I’ll do it. No matter the journey, no matter the hardship, no matter the cost.”’

My love, my dearest... my Captain, how I miss you so.

Arlecchino looks to the woman, unsure of what to say.

She has faced plenty of formidable enemies, even formidable allies… but not one as unconquerable as the grief that came with the curse of immortality. She knew only two others who hail from the same land the Lady [Name] had come from, but even they spoke none of the anguish that came with the price they paid.

How could she have stomached living for so long… when there was nothing left to live for?

“I’m still waiting… so he has to return. He has to come home. Come back to me. I’m still here…”

Maybe that was it.

She held onto this person’s promise of return. How cruel, to have been given hope by a dying man. To live in a world where another has gone is truly one of the greatest sorrows a soul can face.

“My colleague is from Khaenri'ah, my lady. They call him Pierro, perhaps he can be of service to you.”

In the wake of stars, the shadows of galaxies, and in forever... there, we remain.

Domed by the ether of the land of fire, a fragment of a soul exists. Clothed in the colors of the night with a face shielded by the void of his helmet that he wore so devotedly, unfailingly.

Stillness blanketed his surroundings, only the songs of the seelies dancing in his midst and the faint droplets of water hitting stone echoed in the closed space.

It felt so long ago... that the embrace of the land was this mellow. The sensation was akin to receiving a hug from someone in the bleakness of winter: loving, comforting... warm.

It was just how he remembered it would feel like.

"You long for something." The Lord of the Night speaks, her voice sounding as though it came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Your heart screams at you to drop everything and look yet your mind shackles you to remain."

Capitano let the words settle—a statement, so it would seem—a question was its true form. No matter how the ancient being phrases her intentions, Capitano knew just as much that Yohualtecuhtin already holds the answers.

"Why do you hesitate, Outlander? Is she not all that you have ever wanted? Everything you have fought and lost to protect? The home you'll return to once the dust settles?"

The Harbinger let the ancient being’s words sink into the horizons of his shattered soul—a piece of what was once whole.

"She was."

Silence dyed the dust motes fluttering in the air. The Captain's answer seemingly weighing them down to stop their eternal waltz. Even the lullabies of the seelies floating the perimeter had dwindled to a whisper.

“Those blessed in sound will not know the turmoil of silence. A man raised in peace remains ignorant to the loss of war. And if the reason for my travels is my destination—I would have never left her side.” Should Capitano’s visage be free from the shadows of darkness, the reflection of an ocean of regret would be far too painful even for an entity as wise as the Night to witness.

“I returned to her, many times… but there was no one to return to.”

For years on end, that was something he struggled to accept. She doesn’t exist anymore. Not in all that ruin, not in the center of all this life.

But Capitano, in his grief, thought that anything could be brought to life.

He was free to dream, even the one he serves did not deprive him of that, but every fragment of hope he managed to stack upon one another was continuously knocked down by every passing sun that sought after him.

Capitano thought anything would be possible.

So, despite not believing in any deities, he prayed to every star, to every god that he knew that his beloved was alive. That [Name] was somewhere in this world, just waiting for him to return. Every meteor that grazed the sky and set alight the night in streaks of fire, he’d catch them all. Every aurora. All the full moons. Even for the slimmest of chances that he’d be heard—that his prayer would be answered.

He did not wish for a thousand things, not even a hundred, just one.

One wish for the heavens: to see her again.

Capitano did not need them to bring her back seven times, just once. Once and it would be enough. He would ask this of them, only this, and never again will he want anything more.

Only grant me this, and I will never ask anything of you ever again.

Ignorantly he believed that if he wished for it eagerly and hopefully enough, the universe would move the stars to make it so.

But for many centuries, they ignored his prayer.

"Do you wish to know the horrible truth? When I close my eyes, her memory does not resurface. I cannot remember her laugh, or even tell apart her voice. All that remains is the waking thought that she was the only woman I ever loved—the only thing I ever wanted. And the Abyss took her away from me. The gods took her away from me! And all the time in the universe—all the power this world has to offer—couldn't fill the void she left behind."

Capitano's power fluctuates, threatening to burst from the nothingness festering inside him. He would have permitted it. Let the anger and sadness wreak havoc on the lands just as they did in their homeland. He would have done so—once.

All those moons ago when her image haunts his dreams, when her laughter echoes through the valleys, and her figure lingers in every turn. He would have let it all burn, bury everything in eternal frost so that they may see what it's like to exist when there was nothing left to live for.

Feel for themselves what life means when everything else is gone.

"So why do you linger?" The Lord of the Night asks patiently, calming… soothing, as though she knew the heaviness of the burden the Harbinger had been carrying for the past five centuries.

Why do I? Why am I the one permitted to live? Why are you the one trapped under the ruins of our home? Why?

"Because I am ashamed.” He admits.

“All humans fear death, Outlander. Even the bravest of warriors are afraid to fall.”

“No.” Capitano denies, clenching his fist to control his breathing, “To be wounded in battle is nothing to be feared—dying to defend your kingdom is an honor. But when I looked at her—when I looked at her as she watched me walk away when I swore to her that I was never going to do it again, all I felt was indignity.”

“When I fled and went forth with my escape, I saw her there. Waiting. Waiting just as I had told her to. I knew then, I would never see her again.”

Back then, Capitano should have frozen the entirety of the ruins of his home, blasted the debris inching closer to where she remained, subjugated the creatures of the abyss that threatened to hurt her—anything, anything to keep her alive.

But he didn’t.

“I am the only one left to remember her. The only one to speak her name. The sole monument that once upon a time, she, too, had existed. And when I think of her for the last time—when the echoes of her memory fade into eternity, only then will I know that I am worthy enough to meet her again."

The Commander of Khaenri'ah would have never spoken words plunged in the depths of cowardice. In the wake of the falling stars five hundred years ago, he would have done anything.

If she was taken to another world, Capitano would cut through the skies to find her. If she ceased to breathe in this space in time, he would transcend realities—search the bowels of the cosmos to see where she'd gone. If she were to ask to see him, even for the most fleeting of seconds, he would drop everything and come running.

He would have done anything.

And that was the part that riddled his heart in fear.

Because what if it wasn't enough?

Capitano was one of the most powerful people in the land. His name drove fear into the hearts of those who heard it, had them anticipating their deaths, finding their nights spent in restlessness at the thought that he’d take away their lives in the blink of an eye.

Crossing paths with the Captain was something you would not even wish on your enemies.

But this Captain—the one drowning in the oceans of his grief, chained down by his loneliness, awaiting the moments of his last breath... could care less for names and titles.

He reckons she would have reprimanded him for that. She'd even go as far as to demand him to take the matters of sovereignty and lordship a lot more seriously.

And he'd laugh at her, of course—a melody that could render even the most talkative of noble ladies to deafening silence. Always a stickler for the rules, that one.

At the end of the day, when the twilight settles, and the last rays of the sun slip under the blankets of the horizon, his mind would drift to the impossible and pathetic thought—one which he never fails to think about for every moon that rises, and all the suns that have gone—has she been reborn yet?

Having been serving under the majesty of the Tsarista, there was no way he would know for certain. Or at least, that's what he's been telling himself for the last few hundred years.

Capitano has seen the wonders of this world more times than he could count. He's met with a myriad of leaders and lords. Witnessed as the cultures of these mortal beings be brought to ruin and reform once more.

He closed his eyes for every reminder of her—thinking that it was better to live in ignorance of her presence than to have been led on only to be betrayed by his own heart, his own hope turned against him.

Capitano encased her memory in frost, put her in the deepest part of his mind where she could not haunt him. He forced himself to burn the desires of his soul—to see her, to hear her... to tell her that he loves her and that he would give anything and everything to change her fate. He numbed his heart to it all, compelled himself not to think about her.

For every venture beyond the walls of ice, past the snowy hills, and the frosty palace, Capitano felt her get further and further away.

And soon enough, her memory had altogether faded from his mind.

He'll wake in the dead of the night trying to piece together her image, guess the color of her eyes, remember what shade her hair was, what her smile looked like, the sound of his name when it was her who had said it.

He'd try desperately to replicate the scent that followed her like daylight, the clothing she adored, the sounds of her footfalls.

But nothing ever felt right.

He'd tell himself over and over again that he did not deserve to remember her—to miss her when he was the one who threw it all away. I miss you all the same. He'd whisper repeatedly that he was not allowed to hurt, that his heart had no right to break for all that he lost when he had the choice to keep her memory alive, but he didn’t. It hurts all the same.

Capitano would chant it like a mantra. A prayer for his punishment. But even as he tells himself that so long a time has passed—that he had no obligation to continue loving her, a ghost from a kingdom in ruins, a phantom in a land colored in life. I still love you... I love you all the same.

In the frozen wasteland of every passing second, the echoes of her joy would come rushing back to him. The warmth of her loving hold, and her fleeting touches saturated in adoration.

No matter what he did, where he went, who he met... Capitano always thought about her. Are you happy? Are you eating well? Do you get enough sleep? Have you fallen for another? Does he treat you right? Do you miss me? Are you looking for me? Do you—will you still love me?

Whenever he departed, Capitano went with the hopes that by some stroke of fate, he'd run into her. When he would turn the corner, she'd bump into him. Or perhaps walk past each other on the street. Go to the same tailor in town.

Or that I'd see you... even if it's from afar.

But it wasn't enough to just hope.

Yet that was exactly what he'd been doing for the last thousand suns that had passed him by.

He wonders, if he had only risen to protest—to deny the fate the heavens had set for her… would she still be here? Would he not feel this twisting sense of guilt knotting his stomach? Feel as the threads of his heart come undone at his powerlessness?

Capitano knew he should have done more. He could have tried, as soon as he was able—and he always was—as early as he attained power... he should have tried, to look for her, to get a glimpse of her shadow, just to put his heart at ease.

But he didn't do that.

Perhaps it's the gnawing fear of finding her soul nowhere in this world—that he'll finally see that he's left alone in this plane of existence, where she can only live in the memories he forced himself to shatter, fragments of it carried away by the zephyrs of grief.

“You speak of my longing, Yohualtecuhtin…” He spoke into the silence, his footsteps resonating in the hall of stones, “Surely, you would wish for the same. Wish to be closer to demise if it means you’d meet the one you love. To rid of it all so you’d reach the ends faster.”

Before he left, Capitano looked past his armor-clad shoulders to that big monument that housed the ancient spirit. He could almost feel the burning stare she was carving into his being.

“She alone has made me love the path to death.”

And only there, in the cradles of the infinite nothingness… will I be worthy enough to see you.

“Perhaps you should seek her for a final time. Not in the past where ruins lay, but within the warmth of a home, surrounded by the promises you spoke to her… maybe then, you and your beloved will find peace.”

Funny story, I almost lost this fic💀.

My laptop crashed coincidentally when I uhh ‘killed’ off Capitano from the reader’s perspective. Turns out my 1st drive also died along with it. The repairman told me he needed the 2nd drive (where this fanfic was stored) to get my laptop working again but I couldn’t do that (cuz it had this fanfic) because all my files is stored there. The panic I had was otherworldly—but I managed to create a solution.

I came up with this idea as a form of revenge because of a post I saw on a page on Facebook saying Maviuka was Capitano’s TOTGA (I remember you Jhan, this is all your fault>:0). I didn’t read too much into it (cuz the update was like a day ago back then???) because at that time I hadn’t done the archon quest (and it was midterm week). I was so PISSED that I planned this fanfic in my dorm room instead of reviewing—so now uhmm… I think I might have gotten a little carried away ehe (BECAUSE EVEN I’M CRYING FROM THIS FIC) on another note, you’d think after I wrote a Khanrean kanreeyan Khanreyan STUPID FCKER prince Kaeya fanfic, I’d know how to spell kahnreeya khanrea— I don’t know how to spell it. I think I might have a thing for khaenriyan help ya know what, I take it back.

I hope you enjoyed it 💖

#chiya's head rent 🎐#capitano x reader #genshin capitano #il capitano #capitano #genshin impact #ao3 #fanfiction #i love capitano #genshin impact fatui #genshin x reader #arlecchino #dainsleif #lyney #freminet #house of hearth

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johnpriceslamb · 6 months ago

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hii i love ur fics sm!! could i request an arthur with his super feminine gf + comfort after micah upsets her? pls no rush or pressure!! 🤍

A yell, a squeal and a sob.

Three things Arthur heard all at once from the little [name] who bursts into his space of privacy.

“Woah,” He feels a delicate frame needily curl up in his embrace. His broad arms instinctively wrap around your waist and pull you much closer, “Easy girl.”

A sweet, teensy sniffle escapes from your lips as does a sigh from his own one. His face comes to tilt down at your droopy figure before placing a firm kiss on your head.

“What’s got m’ little girl so upset, hm?” He questioned with a gentle rub to that delicate arch of your back, his bear paw of a hand cupping your cheek so softly, alike of pudding melting in your mouth, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

It takes you a few moments to register his tender voice. Meek, doe eyes come to stare up at him, glistening with tears which make your pupils all the more beady. You rest your cheek on his chest, hardened from doing duties all day and night.

He’s about to ask again only for your honey-suckled voice to come out.

“Micah..” One murmur of his name is uttered and instantly does Arthur brood at the title.

“Mhm? What about ‘im?” He rubs your back out of comfort.

A soft hiccup escapes your lip as you wipe those dewy tears of yours, “He was makin’ fun of me, Arthur..”

“Was he now?” He grunts lowly, feeling his blood boil, “What’s he been sayin’? He lay a hand on you anywhere?”

You shake your head at the last question, a small ‘mm-mm’ escaping your pouty lips as you cuddled more in his arms.

“He said I could be easily taken advantage of,” You explain sadly, “‘N I was no good f’ nothing other than sitting an’ looking dumb f’ you..”

He scratches at his chin for a moment, frowning at your explanation. He could feel a few veins pop in his neck from the irritation he felt as of this moment.

“Don’t listen to ‘im. Y’hear me girl? Don’t ever.” He lowly orders, “Micah’s been real moody lately. Not an excuse to dump his anger out on you, now is it?”

You slowly nod your head, a teensy ‘uhuh’ emitting from your throat. The bow which sits delicately on your head is fiddled just a bit.

He’s pleased with your silent agreement. “Mhm. Good girl.”

A few moments of silence occurs. Only a few sniffles and the rustling of your pink and baby blue dress ruffling amongst his outfit is heard after a few adjustments in movements.

“Where is he.”

It wasn’t a question nor a statement, but a command. You have a slight feeling that he’ll be coming back with a bruised fist but with a loving gaze.

#fem! reader #rdr2 x you #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x fem! you #arthur morgan x reader #afab! reader #arthur morgan x fem! reader #rdr2 #decorate later -.-#MISS CHU GUYSSS TEEHEE

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vxiphoid · 2 years ago

Text

SERENE SHENANIGANS

❨ summary ❩ twst › waking them up to tell them stories that don’t make sense

tags ✧ fluff, crack, savanaclaw boys, defo not proofread its like 7 am, cursing but nothing out of the ordinary, ooc(?), ruggie calls you a little shit like once (affectionate), jack is whipped for you

amanuensis’ message ⊹ I LITERALLY LOVE DOING THIS??? my friends hate me for it. but anyways hiii im back after like my month hiatus, how are thy sleeplings?😋 mb guys writers block has been really kicking my ass, i was spitting blanks on paper… i’m gonna hopefully post another pastry emporium soon for scarabia so stay tuned for that‼️

⌜ 300+ e/chara ⌟

♫ sunset boulevard - hohyun

twst masterlist

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— “leona… pspsps….”

— he hums gruffly when his name was called the first time, only opening his eye thinking you called him a second time when it was really just noise that you would make to get the attention of a house cat. he instantly pins his ears back. how dare you. “hmm?”

— “so i took our snail for a walk and i had accidentally left my feet here to wash the dishes because the grass was blue.”

— huh? you could see him trying to process everything you just said as you explained, his lips parting and eyebrows furrowing. it took everything in you not to laugh. he does one of those blinks, the really delayed ones, one eye opens before the other…

— he’s half asleep too so the confusion is just adding up altogether. if chicken scratch wasn’t a writing term, this is literally it in words. its like the books back at home he picks up to read (derogatory) its, what, 4 am? dont do this to him😭

— you’ve never seen him so expressive💀 this definitely makes his eye and ear twitch at the same time. what type of fucked up fever dream is this?? its usually a blessing seeing you as the first thing he wakes up to, not when you wake him up with some bull strung up in a sentence with your beady eyes staring at him while he sleeps. he loves you, yes, but what does he even say to this…

— “what…”

— your forehead met with his chest as you struggled not to laugh at the uncharacteristic break in leona’s voice. how many cups of coffee did you drink? he asks you to repeat yourself even though it kinda a mind mush decision so you did and by the end of it, he looks absolutely restless.

— “that’s… yes. that’s great, herbivore. can we go to bed now?”

— you note that leona is surprisingly patient when half asleep

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

JACK HOWL

— deep sleeper. tug his ear. though he practically springs up before your hand makes contact, giving himself whiplash.

— “jack?”

— almost instantly relaxes when he realizes its you, tail wagging subtly☹️ “hi, baby. s’something wrong?”

— “hiii, do you remember a year ahead ago when i had to go to the dentist to get my spine fixed and the cats were barking at the flying dogs because the sky was in the water?”

— bro feels like he just had a stroke💀 he’s blinking rapidly, rubbing nose bridge as you explain. he really wants to understand, he does, but wtf did you just say??? it was the innocent “hi” before you unapologetically bashed his head in with the entire dictionary. its so ridiculous he couldn’t help but laugh.

— “jack, this is serious.” even as you told him that, your voice was not steady at all which made his shoulders shake violently in silent laughter.

— “im listening, i swear. tell me one more time?” yk his ass is not listening. he pulls you into his lap while his thumbs idly rubbed your sides, responding to your stories with “uh-huh” and “yeah?” with a lovesick smile on his face.

— eventually holds your face and starts pressing heart squeezing, fluffy kisses all over your face which truly made you more tired then you were. you honestly start forgetting what and where the story was going.

— jack only pauses his kissing attack to respond when you take a small break but even then he doesn’t pull away fully, he’s just speaking against your skin

— “—and the duck had my arm while i was taking it on a walk because gran tammy was in a flying shopping cart.”

— “oh wow. and then?”

— he’s listening but he’s not, mostly because he’s like two seconds away from dreamland and his brain isn’t registering half the shit you’re saying. he wants to see how many stories you can jumble up.

— “yeah, i think it’s bedtime for us…”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

RUGGIE BUCCHI

— omfg he wakes up like a mom. like yk how you would barely touch them and they would gasp like they were just given cpr?? he wakes up like that.

— and you’re just standing there awkwardly 👁️👁️

— takes a quick look around before looking at you. “what happened? is it time to wake up leona already?” you shake your head and ruggie flops back, an arm draped over his eyes. “you scared me… come, lay down with me?” he held his free arm out for you and you did take your place cozied up against his side. to your surprise, you did actually scare the living shit out of him from how fast his heart was racing.

— “ruggie, yk i just found out you’re related to turtles, right? and i had to take uncle bobby to the vet to get a dna test because the fish drowned in air.”

— slow roblox turn towards you but instead its his head as he cranes it down to stare at you. you can practically hear the gears in his head turning and you literally could not look at him or you’d blow your cover.🧍🏾

— “i’m sorry,, what the fuck??”

— he’s genuinely confused, asking you questions about your story while his brain tries to put together the pieces. each question he asks, the more its harder to speak in full sentences other than wheezes

— “what are you laughing at, ya little shit? explain this to me!”

— “i’m trying!”

— and you are😭 its like when you have to explain the family tree really slow bc you cant say, “my father’s girlfriend’s son” without him like ???? and you’re trying to explain it to him slowly, eventually forgetting what you said in the first place…

— “…and the fish drowned in air.”

— “yes.”

— “sweetheart, you still haven’t explained how i’m related to turtles—”

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tiredmamaissy · 2 years ago

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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode I

Ralak’s First Rut

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24)/(18) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, knot play, praise kink, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, knotting, multiple cumshots, creampie, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: ??

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Cheers to the first special episode :) This is literally a mindfuck so bare with me! 🤍🤍

Synopsis: after mating with ralak, you settle into your new home. During some quality time together, you pop a rather… interesting question.

<;- Previous Next ->

It’s barely been a week since you’ve properly moved into Ralak’s marui pod. It’s big and spacious, perfect for two – or more – na’vi. Comfortable and cosy, built by your mate’s two hands, with his future mate and family in mind. It’s beautiful, truly. But it needed a bit more... love. Something Ralak likes to say that you would provide with ease.

Taught from a young age, a man must provide and protect his mate and their family. Wise elders engrained the truth within his being since it came into consciousness – the truth that a woman wields the power of creation. The ability to create something out of nothing and make anything tenfold better.

A house into a home. Fresh game into dinner. Seed into life.

It’s from this point of his life, that he craved a mate to provide for, to create the dreamlife he yearned to live. To give everything he had to that na’vi and watch it flourish.

And he’s finally found you.

—

Five nimble fingers work away at the woven trinkets you plan to garnish the bent wooden frame of your marui with. Slender digits quicken as they tuck the coruscant shells into the twine, pulling it taut as you double knot it. It’s the one thing you taught him, the Omaticaya are known for their skilled weaving and sewing techniques - passed down by the ancestors themselves.

He watches intently, brows twitching as he tries to follow your movements with his own thickset fingers. He’s always had a hard time with this sort of task, often resorting to the lengthy wooden needle and thinly twisted twine to fasten whatever you needed him to. He heaves a heavy sigh, letting his frustration get the best of him as he grabs the wooden needle.

Breaking his façade of indifference.

It’s silly really. You’re mated before Eywa herself, sitting together as you weave and see in your shared marui, and yet he still feels the need to express as little emotion as na’vi-ly possible. You look up to see his nose scrunch and lips pull together, the same face he made when you fell off your ilu for the tenth time. The memory has you giggling before you become aware of the sounds coming from your mouth.

It earns you a pair of beady eyes, drilling into your innermost being. It’s good to know that the teasing hasn’t stopped, even after marriage. Your giggle increases in bass, quickly turning into a chuckle. It’s infectious, spreading to his own lips to make them curl in the slightest way possible, just enough to make him look down at the way his fingers fiddle to thread the eye of the needle.

Blood rushes to his face, staining it a tinge of pink. His flushed cheeks and flustered appearance have the gears in your head grinding twice as hard, fabricating images of what he’d look like in his most primal state. All hot and heavy, chest heaving harshly from how hard he’s breathing. Is it this? Is this what he looks like when he’s in –

“Ma’ Lak.” The words slide off your tongue like nectar, sweet and thick with arousal. It urges him to look away from his task, gaze slowly trailing up your petite, dark blue body.

“…What was your first rut like?” You ask innocently.

Ralak cocks a brow, quickly dropping his head once more to hide his growing smirk. He happily puts down the needle, unfazed by your out-the-blue question and shuffles to his feet whilst offering his hand. Dainty fingers wrap around his wrist, holding on tightly as he pulls you to your feet and walks you over to the bed. He reaches behind him, gripping the base of his kuru to stroke its length and bring it over his shoulder.

“Why don’t I show you?” Ralak asks, exposing his dancing tendrils before your eyes.

Of course, the man of few words would prefer to show you rather than tell you. Not that you were complaining or anything. He’s choosing to let you in, to show you one of the most intimate moments of his life. A moment where he was most vulnerable.

You nod, quickly pulling your queue forth, revealing your dancing tendrils too. Hues of glowing lilac illuminate the space between you. Amber and azure orbs twinkle as they watch the tendrils find one another, intertwining as they come together with a quick tug. Your head flies back, pupils blowing until nothing but thin amber rings remain, breath hitching whilst your bodies synchronize entirely.

Your vision blurs until all you can see is white, and the high-pitched ringing noise in your ears drowns out the sounds of the waves crashing into the shore. Soon, you’re no longer in your marui, as the white fades out into various shades of grey. The ringing dissipates into a low, husky voice, reverberating in the background.

My tanhì. Are you there?

You can see beige and grey blobs, splitting into two and drifting apart. You can hear faint indistinguishable echoes, something like a cry, or a whine. Cool water splashes at your feet, making you rub your eyes to unblur your vision. You open your eyes, witnessing the blobs merge together and unblur into large-rocks, and pointed stalagmites.

Our cave?

You hear the faint, breathy chuckle of your mate. Yes. Our cave. I was... frightened. Came here to cool down with a bath. See?

An invisible hand gently tugs at your chin, pulling your head to the left. You see young Ralak, short haired and bare skinned, leaning against the cave wall. His ears are tucked back, lying flat against his skull as a few strands of hair dangle in front of his face, beet-red with beads of sweat dripping down his temples. The droplets crash onto his bare chest which is heaving wildly from his laboured breathing.

His less sinewy body shudders, face contorting from pain and discomfort as his shaky hands glide down his stomach to find purchase on the band of his loincloth. Hooking his thumbs underneath the twine, he shimmies it down his thighs, revealing his naked pelvis. It’s strange seeing his unscarred, uncalloused skin, bare without charcoal inking.

Huffing and puffing, he stomps his feet to unplaster the sopping cloth stuck to his thighs. A gruff grunt of frustration vibrates in his throat, hands flying to the base of his tail to extricate himself from the constraints of his taut tewng [loincloth]. He’s struggling. Floundering around as if he wanted to step out his own skin.

Your heart sinks at the sight. You want to help him. Make the pain go away. You know it all too well. To feel out of control and confused, dazed, and flustered from the actual heat brewing in your core. But all you can do is watch him from a far as he squirms against the cave wall, panic-stricken eyes growing lidded and heavy.

I had a hard time understanding what was happening. Much like you.

Young Ralak finally unfetters the knot, loincloth unpeeling from his clammy skin. He sighs a breath of relief. Finally free from his restraints, his painfully hard cock springs up, veiny and throbbing from his intense arousal. It’s almost red, mushroomy tip bulging and swollen with a thick, lengthy string of glossy precum leaking from his slit. It hangs freely in the air, swinging side to side as his cock jumps to the pulse of his heart. The swaying rope of slick finally catches along his length and begins to drip down to his – oh?

Is that your –

My knot. I was surprised to see it, too.

It’s huge. This is the first time that you’re seeing it up front. Sure, you’ve felt it before. Fuck, you even wanted to take it during your real first time – but you’ve never seen it like this.

“Tewti [whoa; wow].” Young Ralak mumbles, lidded eyes widening once they land on the sight of his knot emerging for the first time. It’s bulbous and veiny, pulsing madly as it continues to swell. A breathy moan parts his lips as a curious hand reaches for it, eager to find out how it feels. Slickened from his precum, his fingers glide over it easily, feeling the bump of each vein. His hips buck from his own touch, cock thrusting into nothingness.

Your thighs rub together at the sight. You’d never seen him this turned on before. Not even on the night of your iknimaya. And honestly, neither has he. He’s shocked to see himself so red and swollen, throbbing from how painfully hard he is. He stares at himself in awe, watching his hips stutter and squirming by themselves.

He’d never been inclined to touch himself in this way, not even in the early mornings when he was at his biggest. He would just wait for it to go down and if it was ever too overwhelming, he would come here for a quick bath. But the bath isn’t working today. It’s just too humid and hot for only water to cool down with.

Flustered, he gives into his impulses.

Webbed hand gripping his knot, he strokes upwards, cupping his pulsing tip as it oozes slick over the back of his hand. His head dips back, jaw clenched tightly as his hips stutter, palm of his hand now rubbing on the most tender part of his cockhead. He’s so sensitive – so innocent – like a single thrust of his hips would make his inflamed tip... erupt.

Oh, fuck. You shift your weight from one foot to the other - anything for a little friction.

His cock throbs madly, thick strings of his sticky seed spurting out his slit, an orgasm so powerful he can’t bite back the lengthy, pained whimper coming from his mouth. He looks down, feeling something warm on his stomach. Surprised, he let’s go of himself, staring at the thick bead of white liquid rolling between his abs.

“Oh – Oh Eywa.” He exhales wobbly, trembling hand hovering over his tender and raw cock. He’s so afraid to touch it again. But he wants to. He needs to. He just can’t help himself. All he wants to do is hump away at something – anything.

Anything to get rid of this feeling. The feeling of pure, unrefined frustration, engrained deep in his most inner being. As more time passes, he succumbs to his most primitive self, plunging under the thick, hazy trance of his rut. He grabs a hold of his aching cock, stroking it at the pace his stammering hips set for him. His head slumps back into the wall, chin pointing towards the cave’s roof as he lets loose needy, broken whines into the air.

His eyes squeeze shut, brows knotting together to focus on that gnawing feeling deep in his core. In a split second his whimpers morph into deep, guttural groans, white milky essence spilling from his tip, over his hand and onto his tensed stomach. His eyes pop open, mouth hanging agape as he sucks in a quick, shaky breath of air.

Tears well in his eyes, glossing them over with want and desperation. The blush on his cheeks spreads over the bridge of his nose, breath so hot you could practically see it. He pulls away his hand, exposing his cock, thumping madly as beads of cum roll down his shaft. It’s even harder now, so fucking hard that it strains, pulling his skin so taut that its outright painful.

He fully slumps back against the wall, snapping his hips back to get rid of the intense stretching feeling. He almost caves in on himself, desperate for release. For relief. He begins panting – heavily. Trembling lungs making it hard to catch a full breath, he feels his head spin. Finally, the tears roll down his cheeks. Tears of torment.

The first tears you’ve ever seen fall from his face.

This is what you’ve been going through? All alone? For six years?

Yes. Ralak didn’t seem to be embarrassed by you seeing this at all. In fact, it feels as if he’s... enjoying it. Not necessarily enjoying watching himself suffer, but watching you squirm around trying to deny your own arousal.

Young Ralak slides down the rough wall, finding support on a small ledge near the bank of the lake. He swallows the saliva pooling in his cheeks, trembling hand slowly making its way back down to his aching cock all on its own. He grits his teeth as the pads of his fingers graze his chafed skin. He’s so rubbed out and raw that he whines at the sensation.

It’s like stones in your heart, clunking around as your breath quickens. You feel so helpless, so frustrated, unable to do anything to relieve your mate’s pain, albeit a memory. “Ralak.” You blurt out, surprised to hear your own voice in this hazy reverie.

What shocks you more is when he snaps his head towards you, acknowledging your presence with his delirious, inebriated eyes. You never even knew something like this was possible. You knew you could visit memories, just like you would when plugging in to the spirit tree. But to be involved and interact with them is hard to wrap your head around.

You test the waters a little more, and approach him cautiously, hands splayed out in front of you to show that you have no ill intentions. He watches you move towards him, irises flickering between his usual azure blue to a shade of mauve. You can tell he’s uncertain, just by the way he tries to retreat further into the wall with hand practically plastered to his cock.

“W-Who are y-you?” His voice is wobbly and hoarse.

Tanhì. You ignore Ralak’s warning echoing in your mind and continue moving toward his younger self.

“I am... your mate.” You say in a calming voice.

“M-mate?” He can barely get the word out when a wave of heat ripples through him, making his face red and screw with discomfort. “What’s – ngh, w-what’s happening to m-me?” He panics, bottom lip quivering.

“You’re in rut.” You say quietly, hand extending experimentally, your fingertips brush against his clammy thigh.

I can feel you, Ralak. So maybe I can help you.

His freckles blink from your touch, ears hugging his skull as closely as they can. You can hear the faint chitter of his teeth, jaw clenching and unclenching as he tries to put a stop to it. He’s panting so heavily – so quickly that soon he’s hyperventilating, about to lose it.

“Hey. Hey. Breathe. It’s alright. You’re okay.” You try to reassure him in a soothing voice, resting your hand gently on his thigh. “I – I can help you... if you want me to… I know how you’re feeling.”

Tahni. Ralaks stern voice booms in your head, but you continue to ignore him. You couldn’t take it anymore – watching him suffer in this way, even if it’s just a memory. The thought of him going through this alone for six years of his life makes your heart turn in on itself. Besides, you know that he can always pull you out of this daydream with a simple tug at your kurus.

“It hurts... ssst – why does it, w-why?” He mewls breathily, hand reflexively stroking his length, knot to tip.

Your hand slides up his thigh and over his hand, stopping his eager movements. “I have something better. Something that will get rid of the pain.” You say breathily, nodding your head a bit. “B-But only if you want it.”

Young Ralak nods frantically, allowing you to guide his hands to your waist. His innocent, frightened eyes snap up to yours, making their final flicker to a beautiful mauve as they silently beg for reassurance.

“Don’t be scared. I’m right here. You’re going to be alright.” You croon at him, making your way between his legs as you untie the knot of your soddened loincloth.

You’re going to hurt yourself, y/n. Another warning.

Always so worried about me, and never yourself.

Once your loincloth drops to your knees the scent of your arousal fills the air, driving young Ralak into the thick of his rut. His pupils thin to slits and his fingertips sink into your waist, pulling you into him. Your hands slump into his chest, before sliding up to wrap around his neck for support as you mount your younger mate.

You’re squatting over him, knees pressing against either side of your breasts as you position his cock between your slickened folds. Greedy hands explore your body, gliding up and down your back before gripping your hips to move them up and down his length. He groans, closing his eyes to savour the feeling of something so soft and wet rubbing against him.

Putting pressure on your heels, you slide your slit up to his tip, shifting your hips downwards to position him at your entrance. His cock, desperate to sink itself into anything, goes into a thrusting frenzy once it feels your soft opening. He digs his nails into your skin as he forces you down onto him in one hard thrust. You hide your face in the crook of his neck in hopes to muffle the loud, pained groan falling from your lips.

You can feel every inch of him, just as you would if this were all real. Every vein. Every bump. Every throb. Once you look back at him, you’re met with frightened, innocent eyes, worried that he just hurt you. You smile wobbly, moving your hands to cup his jawbone. “I’m okay. Shh – it’s okay.”

“’m sorry.” He huffs, furrowed brows pinching even tighter as he thrusts into you, jamming his swollen cockhead into your cervix repeatedly. “s-so sorry.”

You rest your forehead against his, looking each other deep in the eyes as he ruts into you like an animal. His thrusts have no rhythm, hips stuttering at an unpredictable, broken pace. His noises are bestial and primal, whimpering and whining as he struggles to move properly.

“Oh, ma ‘Lak. Don’t b-be. jus’ want y-you to feel be-better.” Your voice bounces, hand reaching behind you to press down on his thigh to stop his movements all together. His hips come to a halt, with the occasional unintentional buck, hand caressing his thigh for a bit until he calms down fully.

“Easy, take it easy. Like this” Your hand slides up his thigh, slender fingers gripping the side of his hip to slowly pull him forward. His hips jerk forward on impulse, ramming his head back into your sore cervix. “Agh! A little – a little more gently.” You let out a sweet little cry, pushing his hips away from you.

His breath deepens so much that you can hear it – chest heaving so harshly his shoulders are visibly rising and falling. “S-sorry. Sorry.” He buries his hot face into your chest as he apologizes continually, trying to control the jerk of his hips. His arms wrap tightly around your waist to pull you in for a closer embrace.

Finally, he sinks into you slowly, completely bottoming out in your cunt until his knot kisses the softness of your slit. It’s so sensitive and neglected that he grimaces into your soft breasts, pulling away as he sucks in a quick breath of air with a ‘sss’. You look down to see his brows pinched, lips slightly parted and eyes screwed tightly shut.

He’s having such a hard time – struggling to breathe, struggling to control himself, struggling to be gentle. You can see the glister of the tears seeping from the corners of his eyes and oh – how that makes your heart throb. “Good boy. Doing such a good job, you know that?” You coo with trembling lungs, pulling his head back into you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You hold him close, cradling him like a baby, cooing in his ear about how well he’s doing. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just listen to your body.” Your voice quavers as you repeat his own signature words back to him. “Do what you need. Okay?”

He lets out a weak grunt, tightening his hold around you while he snaps his hips back. You can feel every vein and ridge against your gummy walls as he pulls out, and when he sinks himself back in you swear you can feel his swollen knot poking at your entrance. Again. And again. And again. And soon he quickens his broken pace, pounding into you so hard it feels like it may pop in at any second.

Heart slamming violently between your ribs, you tighten your grip around him as you prepare to be knotted for the first time. His lewd noises increase in volume and bass and soon he’s groaning gutturally as his frenzied thrusts become short and deep. So fucking deep that you can’t help but let out a pathetic little whimper when he pushes past the resistance in attempts to shove his fat knot inside you.

And that’s when you feel it.

“It’s happening. Haa – ah! Ha-ppening.” He groans suddenly, grinding even harder into you.

“Let it - haah- happen. Go on, there you go.” You pant, feeling his thick cock pulsate inside you, spurting ropes of his hot, sticky cum in your womb, filling you up until you feel heavy and oh-so-fucking full. It’s so much, it’s overflowing, excess seeping out to dribble down his knot. He’s allows a soft ‘ngh’ to fall from his lips with every pulse of his cock.

He continues to roll his hips into you, a little scared by his body’s impulsive, greedy movements. But he can’t help it, the way his body is screaming to shove this growing bulge inside your tight, little hole. He’s whimpering, at war with himself as he tries his best not to knot you.

Tanhì!

“Don’t fight it. Do it!” You cry out a high-pitched moan, grinding into immense pressure between your legs. You can feel it work its way inside you, stretching you out so much that it burns. But you know this will make him feel better – make the pain go away. “Harder. Push h-harder.” You quiet down to an encouraging, shaky whisper. He’s pushing up into you and shoving you down by your hips at the same time, clenching his jaw from the way you’re pinching him.

Pop.

“Ngh!” It slips in with an audible squelch, burning sensation between your legs growing even hotter. And hotter. And hotter. And oh – fuck. It’s so hot it feels like a ring of fire surrounding his pulsating knot. It hurts – but it hurts so good. So good that your pussy walls flutter around him uncontrollably. “F-fuck!” You cry out, quickly coming to the realization that you’re cumming from the way his knot is burying itself inside you.

He holds onto you tightly as he continues to move inside you, tugging at you as you try to come down from your unexpected high. “W-wait – Ralak!” You whimper loudly, trying to follow his erratic movements. He’s whining from the overstimulation and the way you’re pinching around him; eyes flying wide open to reveal pure panic and guilt when he quickly understands that he’s hurting you.

Suddenly, your vision goes white as the ear-splitting ring pierces your eardrums and in a matter of seconds, you’re back in your shared marui. You open your eyes with an audible gasp to see Ralak peering up at you through furrowed brows. His gaze is almost predatory – piercing, and unflinching. His slumped shoulders rise and fall from how heavily he’s breathing, darkened, almost purple-y mauve irises flicking down to his taut loincloth – soaked with his thick cum.

“Oh, shit.” You breathe, unaware that he was feeling everything, too.

“Only I knot you.” Ralak growls.

A giggle bubbles up your throat, “Really Lak?Jealous? Of yourself?”

He grunts, displeased with your behaviour. “Do not taunt me, Tanhì.”

——

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sapphire-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 1: Welcome Home

main masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter

summary ~ Hired by the elusive Aemond Targaryen, you arrive at Harrenhal House to care for his niece and nephew. Things go bump in the night.

warnings below the cut for your convenience

warnings ~ spooky ghostly stuff, angst, mentions of death, loss of a child, blood, wound care

note: and so begins our spooky adventure! I hope you enjoy it!

banner made by the ever lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!

Harrenhal stands on the edge of our world atop lush, green hills. The God’s Eye Lake is the biggest in the country, more like the sea than any landbound body of water you’d ever seen before.

As the Uber driver creeps along the bend of the God’s Eye, the old manor begins to come into view. A thick layer of fog seems to cling to the bricks; gray tendrils creeping onto the driveway and spilling onto the lawn.

“Are you a long way from home?” your driver asks, meeting your eyes in the rearview as he attempts to strike up polite conversation. You assume it’s because of the rather rough start you got off with him.

“Harrenhal House?” he had asked, face red, eyes wide, “That place is cursed.”

Not exactly the warm welcome you had wished for when you arrived in the Riverlands. Not exactly the impression Aemond Targaryen had given in his email when he offered you the job. The interview had been completed over the phone. His voice was cold, words clipped as though he wanted to find someone qualified and quickly to care for his niece and nephew.

The car pulls up to Harrenhal, tires crunching against the gravel of the driveway. The iron gates were open as you’d driven up, expecting your arrival. Hedges and statues covered with moss decorate the path toward the main house. The car slowly creeps closer. Your driver clutches the wheel as though the house means to swallow him whole.

Harrenahal stands out like a stain against the clear blue sky. It is an enormous manor, with shutters, and brick the color of pitch. The terrifying eyesore of the Riverlands. Crows have made their nests in several of the gables, their beady black eyes watching intently as the car comes to a halt.

A murder.

Of course, you’d done your research before accepting the position. Both on the home and on your host.

Harrenhal had a grizzly history. Your driver wasn’t wrong when he called it a cursed place. But the dead didn’t scare you. You had ghosts of your own.

Aemond Targaryen was a different story. Second son of Viserys Targaryen, whose recent passing was still hot news in the corporate world. Not that you paid close attention, but you’d heard there still had been no decision on the naming of the new CEO of Fire & Blood Co.

The death of the patriarch seemed to trigger a chain reaction of devastating events. If Harrenhal was cursed, so was the Targaryen family tree. Wherever the silver-haired blue bloods go, tragedy seems to follow.

The death of little Jaehaerys is the most tragic of all.

You’d yet to see a child-sized coffin and desperately hoped you never would.

They’d whisked Helaena Targaryen away from the boisterous streets of King’s Landing rather quickly after the funeral of her first son. After her accident.

You didn’t know what had happened, it was omitted from the press. Even the tabloids had only guesses. You doubt there are many limitations to actions caused by a mother’s grief.

Jaehaerys left two siblings behind; a twin sister and an infant brother still too young to toddle. Aemond Targaryen was hardly ready to be a father. You’d researched him as well and read about his ascent up the corporate ladder.

The boost of nepotism couldn’t have hurt, but from what you could tell, as you hunched over your laptop in the darkness of your hotel room, Aemond Targaryen had worked hard for his success. A tragic accident when he was a child left him blind in his left eye, leaving it cloudy and sightless, though nothing more was disclosed online about the incident.

There were other Targaryen siblings; an elder sister from a first marriage, a party boy, and another brother backpacking through the eastern continent. You flipped through countless articles and stalked the Instagram pages of the elusive family.

However, Aemond Targaryen did not have social media.

What he did have, was a marriage announcement, followed soon after by an obituary.

A handsome young widower. Not even thirty.

The deceased wife was much older. You’d browsed through Google images while slurping cold pad Thai, though there were hardly any pictures of them as a couple. Aemond seemed to avoid the press at every chance.

There weren’t many photos of him; just candid shots here and there—a dark suit, a flash of silver hair. You had shut your laptop after that, feeling suddenly self-conscious, as though Aemond would know you’d read about him the first time he laid eyes on you.

Your Uber driver helps deposit your bags onto the gravel, shutting the trunk with a grunt. He turns to you, eying the manor nervously, as though it's a living thing waiting to open its jaws and devour you.

“You be careful, love,” he tells you, nodding towards the house.

“I’m tougher than I look,” you assure, awarding him a wry smile.

The smile he offers in return is more of a grimace, and he is quick to return to the safety of his vehicle. You grab your carry-on and the handle of your suitcase, gazing up at the manor. A crow caws, alerting the others to your arrival.

A group of crows is called a murder.

You walk up to the doors, knocking once, twice. There is no answer. Turning the handle, you stepped into the grand foyer. A large staircase is the first thing you see, though you’re distracted by the man walking down the steps at a leisurely pace.

Aemond Targaryen is more intimidating than the candid photos you’d hungrily browsed. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. His long, silver hair is braided into a bun resting at the nape of his neck, a few tendrils ghosting around his face. Pouty lips, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a beautiful straight, pointed nose.

You’d always had a thing for noses.

Seven hells. Stop that. This guy is your boss, your employer.

His eyes. One blue, the other milky and lifeless. The gash of a faded scar running up the side of his face only served to make me more handsome.

He greets you with the title of Miss, the gentle timbre of his voice floating down to you. It’s so formal, as though you’ve walked through a portal into a Jane Austin novel. He doesn’t smile, just watches you, sizing you up.

Fucking hell, he’s even more handsome in person.

The man could be a model if business doesn’t work out for him.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you watch him descend the steps. With his hands in his pockets, and white button-down sleeves rolled to his elbows, he oozes an air of cold confidence as his eyes trace over you. He doesn’t offer a hand to shake, despite his formality. Even when he removes his hands from his pockets, letting one drag slowly down the railing.

“You didn’t arrive with any other baggage?” Aemond quips, the fingers of his left hand uncurling from a clenched fist.

You blink, before glancing at your suitcase, at the carry-on bag beside it, “No…?”

Aemond hums to himself, lips pressed firmly together. His face gives nothing away, an emotionless mask of disinterest.

“No estranged boyfriend who’ll be coming looking for you?” he asks pointedly.

Your cheeks warm at his statement. You should have guessed he’d be direct. He didn’t ask you in the interview about a partner; just made sure you were able to commit to the position for at least six months.

“No,” you tell him, “No boyfriend.”

His eyes, both the blue and the milky sightless, hold your gaze intently before he nods.

“Follow me then.”

Aemond gives you a tour of the house, showing you all the rooms you’ll have access to. Mysteries are hidden behind closed doors that Aemond doesn’t acknowledge, including a closed door decorated with paintings of vines and flowers. He omits the majority of the west wing of the house which includes the location of his study.

A man has his secrets, you suppose.

What he does show you is the kitchen, along with the nursery and the library. Despite the age of the house, the kitchen is large and modern, with cabinets painted a deep forest green beside stainless steel appliances. A gas stove houses a tea kettle, ready and waiting.

He shows you to your room last; on the eastern side of the house close to the nursery. You follow him down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silence. Aemond has not attempted small talk throughout the tour of the house.

Aemond has stayed silent unless he is informing where he is taking you next, his hands clasped behind his back. It almost looks uncomfortable, the way he holds himself upright, his spine straight as an arrow.

“Your sister lives here as well, right?” you ask absentmindedly looking at the tapestries that decorate the hall.

Aemond stops in front of a door, turning back to you. Those cold eyes stoke a fire within you, setting you ablaze with each glance. He is silent for a moment before he opens the door.

“This is your room,” he continues, ignoring your question, “There are extra sheets in the lower drawers, and on Sundays, the housekeeper comes to strip the beds and tend to the rest of the house.”

He opens the bottom drawers of the large oak dresser. A large mirror rests on top of it accompanied by a dark jewelry box. The dresser matches the rest of the furniture in the room; all dark stained wood as though each piece was dunked in ink. A large four-poster bed sits in the middle of the room, the green comforter is warm and inviting. You can see God’s Eye from the large arched window; the water sparkles with the afternoon light cascading across the surface like diamonds.

“I hope you’ll find it satisfactory,” Aemond says.

You turn to face him, standing in front of the window letting the warmth of the sun on your face.

“It’s more than satisfactory,” you tell him, “Straight out of a Shirley Jackson novel.”

Aemond shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, seemingly perturbed by your praise. He purses his lips, glancing at the carpeted floor. You swear he’s smirking slightly.

“A backhanded compliment.”

“It’s not meant to be,” you assure him, your face warming with embarrassment.

“Yes well,” he says, clearing his throat, “Let's hope that’s how the buyers feel as well.”

“I didn’t realize you meant to sell,” you tell him.

“It’s ours for now, but I mean to relocate to Summerhal,” he comments, “This house isn’t held long.”

That’s all he says on the matter. You don’t ask him to elaborate. You doubt he would anyway, he seems keen to ignore your curiosity. Aemond leads you down the stairs once more and out through the kitchen onto a stone patio. The view of God’s Eye is spectacular, it’s close enough to stand at the edge if only you run down the hill.

A garden disrupts the spacious greenery and you walk beside Aemond, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

“She’s here, she’s here!” a small voice calls, followed by a young girl bursting through the doors and out onto the patio.

“Jaehaera!” a woman calls, chasing after the young girl.

She races down the steps to where you stand with Aemond in the gardens. Cheeks rosy, smiling brightly, Jaehaera Targareyn boldly walks up in front of you. Her blue eyes are wide and she holds out a fist full of daisies.

“I’ve picked these for you,” she declares and you kneel to meet her height, “Talya said I needed to wait.”

You take the flowers from her, pressing them against your nose and inhaling their sweet scent. You’ve always loved daisies.

“Which you did not,” Tayla says, catching her breath as she arrives, “I’m sorry sir she didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Aemond quips, arms tucked behind his back, “They needed to meet anyway.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jaehaera. I love your dress,” you tell her, and she twirls letting her baby-blue skirt billow around her.

“You’re much prettier than Kepus told me,” Jaehaera says, eyes drinking in every inch of your face.

“I told you I hadn’t any idea what she looked like,” Aemond gently corrects.

You smile, chest feeling warm at her kindness. You tell her your name and her nose crinkles.

“I’m going to call you Miss Gevie,” Jaehaera declares softly, “Because of how perfectly lovely you are.”

“Someone’s been practicing their High Valyrian,” Aemond remarks, “Have you had your lessons today?”

Jaehaera sighs, a very small sound, “Kessa kepus.”

“Syz riña,” Aemond says, a small smile appearing on his face before glancing at you, “You’ll have to meet Maelor as well.”

“Though he’s rather boring,” Jaehaera interrupts, “He only sleeps. I told muña I wanted a sister. I already have a brother.”

Your stomach flips at her words and you glance at Aemond. His expression is stoic, though Talya pales beside him. She steps forward, kneeling next to Jaehaera, who is busy counting the petals of the daisies you now hold.

“Jaehaera,” she says, forcing a small smile.

“What?”

Tayla grimaces, placing a hand on her shoulder, “We’ve talked about-”

“I want to see muña,” Jaehaera interrupts, shaking off Talya’s comforting hand. She glances at Aemond for help, though he offers none.

“She’s resting now….”

“I want to see her!” Jaehaera insists, louder this time lower lip wobbling.

“Why don’t you say goodbye to Talya first,” Aemond says, “She’s been very kind accompanying you here.”

“You’re leaving?” you ask the woman.

“I’m needed elsewhere, this was a very temporary arrangement,” she tells you.

“She works for my mother,” Aemond clarifies, nostrils flaring slightly, “She was unable to make the journey here.”

You remember reading about Alicent Hightower. You don’t see any of his mother in Aemond’s features. Where Alicent is soft, Aemond is sharp; nose straight and long, chin prominent. The word lethal comes to mind.

Aemond has looks to kill.

You shake your head trying to clear your thoughts.

“Can I show you my room?” Jaehaera asks, smiling once more.

“I’d love that,” you tell her, letting her place her small hand in yours and lead you back towards the house.

You glance behind you, watching as Aemond and Talya converse before Harrenhal swallows you once more.

“Miss Gevie,” Jaehaera asks, tugging her comforter up to her chin, “Are you going to stay with us for a long time?”

You stop picking up some of her toys from the floor. You’d been playing with dolls since after dinner and had just settled down to read a story before bed. You smile, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“I am,” you tell her, “Your uncle is working very hard and needs a little extra help.”

Jaehaera nods, taking in the words you speak. Her blue eyes watch you carefully, seeming wiser than her years.

“I like you,” she says softly, “Kepus likes you too. I can tell. He just doesn’t say so.”

You smile at her. Aemond was clearly softer in the presence of Jaehaera. He’d been more pleasant at dinner than when you’d first arrived. Helaena was absent from supper.

“You’re not going to leave? No matter what?”

You stroke some hair from her face, “I am not going anywhere, any time soon.”

Jaehaera scoots down, laying back against her pillow. You stand, pulling the covers up when something catches your eye. You reach under her pillow, removing a doll that was hidden there.

“Who’s this?” you ask, staring at the doll.

It’s barely a doll, more a stick of melted charred plastic, warped from the heat. You can see remnants of legs and arms, the path a flame must have licked up through the plastic; the hair burnt to the scalp. The face is unrecognizable.

Jaehaera reaches up, closing her small fingers around it.

“He stays here,” she tells you, “He likes to stay inside his castle.”

Geez. Creepy or what? You force a smile, letting her take the weird Barbie.

“Okay,” you tell her, “Goodnight Jaehaera.”

“Goodnight Miss Gevie,” she sing-songs.

“You know, you can just call me by my name,” you remind her.

“I like Miss Gevie better, it suits you,” she insists, yawning.

You find yourself yawning as well, and head to bed. The manor is quiet as you make your way to your room, tucking in for the night.

Sleeping in a new place can cause strange dreams.

A bloodcurdling scream tears through the halls of the sleepy manor, its icy tendrils ripping you from your dreams and back into your bed. You awake with a gasp, sucking in air as though you’d been held underwater, just breaking through the surface. Hand clutching your throat you sit up, hair sticking to the back of your neck from the layer of sweat that covers your body.

The house is quiet once more.

Breathing heavily you sit up in bed for a moment, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You rise on shaky legs moving towards the door, and the ancient doorknob groans in protest as you turn it.

The hallway is dark, moonlight shining through the window at the end painting the floor with streaks of silver.

Maybe you were still dreaming.

But then, a low groan begins, the guttural sounds of a mourning mother’s wail. It washes over you like ice water and your stomach turns as the scream reaches its highest peak. Despite the alarm in your mind telling you to turn back into your room and hide under the covers, you race down the hallway towards the sound.

With each and every step toward the western wing, the screaming gets louder, broken up with deep sobs. You quicken your pace, bare feet padding against the carpet as you reach the source. The door you’d passed earlier, painted with flowers and twisting vines is open now, yellow light pouring into the hall from the lamp.

Aemond holds a girl in his arms--not a girl but a small woman; she’s frail, elbows poking against flesh like a starved baby bird, tears streaming down her ashy cheeks. Her silver hair is damp with perspiration, clinging to her face and neck as she clutches Aemond’s forearm. They’re in a heap together on the floor, Aemond’s arms tensed around her as he gently shushes her.

“Helaena…it's alright, it was just a dream,” he assures her, his voice softer and warmer than you’ve heard since meeting him.

He glances up at you, acknowledging your presence but saying nothing; his entire attention is on his sister.

“It’s never just a dream,” Helaena wails, nails digging into Aemond’s forearm, “Or maybe it is, maybe I’m asleep even now.”

A chill runs down your spine at Helaena’s words.

“Maybe I’ve been sleeping all along,” she continues, eyes glassy and her voice hoarse, “I could feel him, Aemond, it was so real.”

“I know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I could feel him…in my arms….against my breast like when he was a baby…feeding, it was so real,” she says, her voice dropping into a whisper.

Helaena’s lips trembled, parted in a silent sob. The hand that does not anchor her to Aemond rests atop her breast, as though she can feel Jaehaerys against her chest even now.

“It’s alright dōna mandia,” Aemond murmurs, still stroking her hair. He rocks back and forth, starting a gentle pace to soothe her, “Go to the kitchen.” His voice is directed at you this time, your eyes meeting his. The tone he uses is still soft, and when you don’t move, he gestures toward the hall with a nod of his head.

“Do you hear him?” Helaena continues, “Running down the hall? Jaehaerys! Māzigon kesīr dōna valonqar!” (Come here, sweet boy).

“There’s no one there, Helaena,” Aemond soothes.

“I hear him,” she sobs, turning her face into Aemond’s chest, “Why can’t you hear him?”

Helaena’s sobs and questions are still ringing through your head as you leave the room, heading downstairs.

You make your way to the kitchen, standing in the dark, shocked for a moment before turning on the light. Helaena’s cries and pleas still echo in your mind as you fill the kettle left on the stove and turn on the gas burner. Searching through cabinets you find an array of handmade mugs, choosing a purple one with a twisted handle.

You rummage through some more drawers until you find some herbal tea, setting it beside the stove as you wait for the water to boil. You tap your fingers against the counter, a nervousness curling in your belly as you gaze out the window that leads to the backyard. You had known Helaena wasn’t well, but you didn’t realize just how serious it was.

You inhale a deep breath trying to steady yourself. It’s shaken you up quite a bit, hearing her agonized screams. Your hands tremble and you press your palms flat against the counter. A door slams from somewhere upstairs and you glance at the ceiling.

You look out the window once more, peering into the darkness. The God's Eye is just a still pool reflecting the light of the moon. A shadow moves behind you, reflecting in the glass and you gasp turning around.

“Seven hells!” you curse as Aemond walks into the kitchen, “You scared me.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just watches you for a moment, chest rising and falling with his breath. He must have also been asleep when Helaena’s terrors began as he’s clad in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, silver hair loosely braided down his back.

Ruby-red beads of blood blossom from the crescent-shaped marks on Aemond’s left forearm. You watch them swell into ruby marbles against his porcelain flesh before he grabs a rag on the counter, covering them.

“Are you alright?” you ask, as Aemond sits in a chair.

It’s almost like he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him; he takes a moment to process before he nods. You watch him as he stares at the table, tension rolling off his shoulders. The kettle begins to whistle and you quickly remove it from the stovetop, turning off the flames.

You pour your own mug before moving to the cabinet where you’d found it, retrieving a second. This one is green with gray streaks. Another handmade treasure, you’re sure.

You make Aemond a cup of tea, placing it in front of him before taking the seat next to him. His eye flickers toward the steaming cup. Though he hesitates for a moment, he wraps his long fingers against it, pulling it closer.

“It’s hot,” you tell him, as he lifts it to his lips.

“I don’t mind,” he murmurs. You’d likely burn your lip if you didn’t wait a few minutes. Aemond sighs contentedly, violet eye meeting yours.

“Thank you,” he says softly, “I should have told you…”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, “I figured she was grieving. You’d mentioned she’d been unwell.”

“The doctors say it's night terrors,” Aemond comments, taking another sip, “Due to the trauma she’s experienced.”

“That makes sense.”

“I’m meant to speak with her psychiatrist later this week,” he says, “She’s begun a new medication to help her sleep. I don’t think it’s been doing her any good.”

“Sometimes those things take time,” you tell him, trying to ease some of his distress. He merely hums in response, as though he’s heard it all before. You glance at the rag on his forearm, biting on your lower lip before deciding to speak again. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

Aemond nods, bringing a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Above the fridge,” he murmurs, not looking up.

Rising from your seat, you retrieve the small kit, and place it on the table in front of you. You reach out toward him, tentatively moving the rag from his forearm, revealing the crescent-shaped marks. They’ve begun to clot, and you fold the rag into a small square, placing it on the table beside you. You dig for a few bandaids settling for the smallest ones.

“She had nowhere else to go,” Aemond says, more to himself than to you as you place the bandages on his arm, “Jaerhara, and Maelor they need to be with family. There’s no one else. Nowhere else.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” you tell him, pulling your hands away. You reach for your mug, placing your hands around it and letting the warmth seep into you.

Aemond hums, not answering, though he seems unconvinced by your statement.

“I mean it,” you tell him, “I can see how much you care about them. And your sister.”

Aemond meets your eye once more, his gaze softening.

“She is the best person,” he tells you, his voice even and calm, “The best mother….the best sister.”

There’s pain hidden behind the words that he speaks; you can hear it coating his voice.

“She’s just in one of her hard times,” he assures you, “She goes through phases. Not..not wanting to see Maelor…it comes and goes.”

You reach for his hand. In the heat of the moment, you’re not sure what else to do. There are no more words of comfort to offer him. Your hand fits in his perfectly, resting on top of the table. His palm is warm, the skin surprisingly calloused. Your lips part, a soft gasp slipping free at the feeling of his hand in yours.

Eyes wide, you smile softly at him before squeezing comfort into his hand. Aemond doesn’t squeeze back, but he doesn’t pull his hand away either. You sit like that for several minutes, neither of you moving.

“Your tea will get cold,” Aemond eventually murmurs, breaking the silence.

Your hand slips out of his grasp, the sudden emptiness making you shiver. Clutching the mug, you bring it to your lips, sipping carefully.

It’s already cold.

How long have you been sitting here?

Aemond is watching you still, as you lower the mug. He stands then, taking both mugs to the sink.

“It’s late,” he comments, “We should get some sleep.”

You nod, standing. Aemond pushes into your chair, walking beside you back upstairs. He turns toward the western wing.

“You’re not going to sleep?” you ask, unable to help yourself.

“I am,” Aemond says, turning slightly, “I prefer to stay in my study.”

“Oh,” you comment, “Well ... .goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says before disappearing down the hallway.

You return to your room, lying underneath the covers trying to get warm when you come to a realization.

That was the first time Aemond had called you by your name.

note: let me know what you think! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them)

if you would like to be tagged in this series, please let me know!

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#aemond x reader #modern!aemond #modern!aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fic #halloween fic #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #modern au #halloween au

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queenshelby · 10 months ago

Text

OSCAR SPECIAL (PART ONE OF FOUR)

Given Cillian’s recent success, I decided to jump ahead a little in my fics and give you a little Oscar Special. But don’t worry, I will cover off everything in between in due course and, for some fics, this Oscar part will hopefully get you guessing, while for others it will constitute a happy ending!

Our Dirty Little Secret (Special Part)

Nine months later…

"I don't know why I agreed to this," you told Cillian while clutching his hand just as the car pulled up in front of the red carpet. This was your first public outing with Cillian since the scandal about your illicit affair had broken just over nine months ago and whilst you had found your way together, society did not exactly approve of your somewhat controversial relationship with the 47-year-old.

"It'll be fine. You need to trust me," he whispered in your ear confidently, as if it were just another date night for you and not the greatest gathering of Hollywood's glitterati. Deep down, you wanted to believe him but it was obvious to you that he had put on act, just for you, to calm your nerves. He hated these events just as much as you did and knew how hard it was for you to adapt to this lifestyle with him.

"I should have stayed with Mara, Cillian. I never left her for so long, you know," you then tried to change the topic, talking about the daughter you had brought into this world together just under nine months ago, but Cillian simply chuckled.

"Mara will be fine with my mum, at the hotel. I promise," Cillian assured you with a loving smile. "Despite, I really need you with me tonight," he paused, gently squeezing your hand. "I couldn't imagine being here without you, Y/N," he then finally told you as one of the red-carpet attendees opened the door for you both.

"Don't you dare run off on me," you gasped, seeing all those intimidating photographers taking pictures of you both as he helped you out of the car, your white dress grazing the asphalt.

"I would never," he chuckled, playfully winking at you, as you bit back a smile, realizing that you were too easily flustered.

He then took your hand into his firmly, clearly showing the world that you belonged together and not a single soul would change that.

"Cillian, over here!" a reporter yelled out while, another, shorter woman with fiery hair, aggressively jumped in to get a good shot of you both. The molten sea of cameras around you ignited a varied assortment of insecurities you forgot you ever had. Suddenly, you were a ten-year-old girl again, your heart dancing under its master's feet set ablaze by judgement; but Cillian squeezed your hand gently, reminding you that you were a woman now—his woman.

A familiar warmth spread through your chest as his steely blue eyes fixated on yours. A silently brokered promise passed between you two: Survive this together.

The female reporter from earlier pushed her way to the front, locking her beady gaze onto Cillian with a voracious hunger.

"Cillian, how does it feel to be nominated as Best Actor for your performance in Oppenheimer?" she asked while you tried to back off a little, but Cillian would not leave you alone, holding you closer to him, showing the world that you both were together in this.

"It's a true honor to be nominated. I couldn't be more grateful. The cast, the crew, everyone really poured their hearts into the story, and I wouldn't be here without them. It was something unique and powerful," he responded, barely looking at the woman, but at you instead, trying to keep his focus.

"And I see you are being supported by your wonderful, young girlfriend tonight, making this your first public outing together. Is that right?" the reporter asked, curiosity sparking excitement in her voice as she studied you two intently.

"Well, we do have a young child together, which makes it difficult for us to attend events like this as a couple," Cillian began to say while smiling at you intently. "But, especially tonight, I couldn't ask for more than her presence," he admitted, his voice dripping with sincerity as he gazed at you openly.

The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter: It was a look that held secrets, a silent vow. You squeezed his hand tighter now and were unable to keep the smile from growing on your lips.

Cillian then stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, causing you to disconnect from the chaotic dance unfolding before your eyes and connect to the feeling of being near him, a feeling that cantered and calmed you.

"Thank you Cillian, and good luck tonight," the reporter finally offered a soft smile before signalling to her photographer to take some more pictures.

As you walked down the red carpet, a familiar pop song began to infiltrate your eardrums as you ignored the snippets of questions being hurled at both of you, creating a barrier between your world and theirs. Even with the nest of hundreds of reporters and photographers, the red carpet no longer scared you as it used to, especially when you had Cillian by your side, shielding you from the worst of it all.

Eventually, you both reached your seats, not too far from the front of the stage and Cillian introduced you to some of the actors and actresses he had worked with. You also met some familiar faces, like Emily Blunt and her husband John who both had a calming presence about themselves.

The tension seemed to melt away as you chatted with them and, for a moment, you managed to forget all the critical eyes resting on you, fading into the background until it was time to be quiet for the opening speech.

As the ceremony commenced, you merely held hands with Cillian, giving his reassurance every time he gave yours. Despite the constant whispers and sly glances coming your way, you tried to embody Cillian's mantra, staying present in this moment and focusing on his unwavering companionship instead of the judgement weighing you down. For hours on end, you managed to simply enjoy the show and, when finally, it was his turn to shine, you clutched his hand even tighter.

"And the Oscar goes to," the presenter announced, opening the golden envelope while, secretly you had been crossing your fingers for him all week long. "Cillian Murphy!" he then announced, making a-thousand-cameras flash simultaneously as your heart began to race uncontrollably against your ribcage. It was a strange feeling, this overwhelming sense of pride that flooded you, leaving you bruised and raw from the exposure.

Standing up simultaneously with Cillian, a big smile formed on your face as, quickly you caressed his face. "You did it!" you whispered to Cillian, hugging him almost desperately as he embraced you back, tightly. He then kissed the top of your head, taking a moment to soak in the gravity of his achievement as the crowd around cheered and clapped for him.

"Fuck," he gasped, still in shock, before stagehands began urging him to come forward and take his spot to accept the coveted award.

"Go on and give your speech," you chuckled, gently pushing him towards the stage while blinking away the tears threatening to mess up your makeup and, just before he took to the stage, he turned his head quickly to capture your lips for a fleeting second, leaving an imprint of adoration behind.

With shaking hands, he mounted the steps, greeted by rousing applause, and you leaned against the back of your chair, watching his every move as he accepted his award.

"Fuck," was the first word that escaped his lips, causing the audience to laugh in response and his actor's instinct kicked in as he used his impromptu curse to deliver an exquisite speech that brought a tear to your eye.

"I am clearly overwhelmed by all this. Thank you. Truly," he spoke, his voice shaky. "I first and foremost want to thank Chris Nolan and Emma Thomas for having faith in me and creating such a masterpiece. To the incredible cast, Robert, Emily, and the rest, thank you for teaching me so much about the craft. I can't believe I get to share a title with such incredible artists," Cillian said before his eyes drifted in your direction, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "And, of course, I want to thank my beautiful partner Y/N for supporting me through this in those last few months. You have pretty much been a single mother in the midst of award season, and I am so grateful that you are here with me tonight. To you, our daughter Mara and my son Max, I love you beyond words," Cillian said, his voice heavy with emotion, and it was then that your vision blurred with unshed tears.

He then proudly lifted his award into the air before humbly walking back to his seat, stealing a glance at you long enough to let you know exactly what he meant.

"I am so proud of you," you whispered as he squeezed your hand again while, around you, murmurs originated from fellow celebrities congratulating him on his well-deserved win.

"This means a lot to me Y/N. Thank you for having been my rock those past few months," Cillian whispered back, his gratitude evident in the warmth of his touch. The intensity of his words caused your heart to flutter unexpectedly and, suddenly, everything around you became distant and muted.

Not too keen to attend the after party even following his success, when the show drew to an end, Cillian engaged in the necessary press engagements before suggesting that the two of you slipped away before everyone made their way to Vanity Fair.

Together, you crept out into the night unnoticed, weaving your way through indulging crowds, gazing at each other, lost in all the nuances of the day that had unfolded—all the stolen glances between you both during the award ceremony, to the brush of his fingertips against your hand while trying to lead you through the venous crowds.

Eventually then, you arrived back at the hotel where Cillian's mother was watching Mara. She was already eagerly waiting your arrival and, as soon as Cillian walked through the door with the golden statute in his hand, his mother embraced him tightly.

"I am so incredibly proud of you," she beamed while gripping his face, hardly believing her eyes. "Now you've got it all, a beautiful family and the biggest achievement of your career," she remarked, wiping a tear from her eye while looking at you and Mara.

"Thank you mum, and thank you for looking after Mara for us tonight," Cillian expressed graciously, managing a weak smile as he hugged her again.

Mara then squealed with delight, screaming, "Dada!" and you both looked at each other with great surprise.

"Did she just say daddy?" you gasped. You couldn't help but be utterly taken aback, finding yourself at a loss for words as you clutched Mara in your arms and buried your face in the nape of her neck.

It was the first time she had spoken and as you held her tightly, you couldn't help but feel a surge of love that coursed through your veins, rendering you dizzy.

You glanced up at Cillian as he stood there, flabbergasted.

"Dada!" she said again, reaching out for the golden statute jutting out from Cillian's grasp. He chuckled and carefully placed it away before picking Mara up and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek.

"Hello Babygirl," he said, laughter dancing in his eyes, and the love in that moment was palpable between them, radiating with a warmth that touched your heart. "I missed you," he then said and your eyes welled up a little. It was moments like this that made you rethink the decisions you made several months ago and you knew that it was time for you to make another now.

"I think maybe it is time for us to move in together now," you proposed to Cillian suddenly, as he looked at you with a gentle smile.

"It seems like two wins for me tonight then," he replied, taking your hand in his as Mara gurgled contentedly between you. He had waited for you to make this call for months now, ever since he first proposed it to you and now it was finally here.

To be continued...

Tags:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

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anjee0 · 1 month ago

Text

Salon Buddies

Female!Reader x B Rabbit (Feel free to put in your own oc insert as well)

Description - Rabbit brings Lily to the salon so she can get her hair done, where he meets Y/n.

Warnings - No warnings :)

Requested by anon

Y/n lounged and spun around in her chair as she flipped through her magazine mindlessly. The sounds of chatting clients and workers buzzed in the back. It was a Monday night and it was already pretty packed. Their clients were mainly just old ladies who wanted to get a perm or dye their hair for the third time in a month.

“You gonna keep sitting there on your ass princess?” A female voice asked. Y/n looked up and saw one of her workers, Stacy, who was eyeing her down. She had a stern expression on her face as she crossed her arms.

“Sorry Stace. Anything I can help you with?”

“Well,” She looked around, examining the place, trying to look for a job Y/n could do.

Just then, a little girl and a man walked into the salon. The girl had bright blonde hair and brown beady eyes. She was wearing the cutest pink polka-dot dress ever. The man had dark baggy clothes on and a dark blue beanie, which complimented his eyes.

“Alright, you can help them out.” Stacy said.

Y/n sighed and got out of her chair dramatically in a sarcastic manner. “On it boss.”

“Don't call me that.”

“Copy that.” Y/n said as she gave Stacy a small salute with two fingers.

“Don't do that either. Come on, hurry up.”

Y/n approached the two new customers with a smile on her face as placed her hands behind her. “Hi there, anything I can help you with?”

“Uh, yeah, hey.” The man responded. “My sister wants to get her hair done. That cool?”

“It's great. Alright, sweetie take a seat.”

The girl shyly smiled at Y/n before hopping into the seat. Y/n placed a black hair cutting cape over her as she sat down.

“What's your name?” Y/n asked.

“Lily.” The girl responded, softly.

“Lily. Lovely name. So, do you know what you wanna do with your hair?”

“I'm not too sure yet. Can you try a cool hairstyle please?”

“Yeah. Anything you have in mind?”

“Uh, I'm not too sure.”

Y/n could sense that Lily felt a bit scared to talk to her, she could see the shyness radiating off of her in strong waves. She softly smiled at Lily through the mirror.

“That's fine Lily. I have a magazine with hairstyles I can try doing on you. Why don't you try choosing from there?” Y/n offered.

“Yes please.”

Y/n rummaged through the drawers at the front desk trying to locate the magazine. It was difficult to spot under heaps of paper, books and other materials. Gosh, they really needed to sort that out. She was eventually able to find it as a smile of victory spread on her face.

“Alright. Why don't you take a look in here?” Y/n asked as she handed Lily the magazine.

Lily beamed at Y/n with a golden smile before she looked through the magazine carefully, her thoughts only concentrated on finding a hairstyle. Her eyes came across one that caught her attention, making her eyes’ pools of chocolate brown twinkle in amusement.

“Can I have this one please?” She asked as she pointed her finger to the picture.

“Yeah, of course. Do you want the same rainbow hair ties on that one too?” Y/n asked.

“Yes please!”

As Y/n went to go fetch the hair ties, Rabbit felt a small smile creep up on his face. Something about Y/n's bright and cheerful energy made him feel a sense of comfort around her. The way she acted understanding and patient with Lily made Rabbit feel an unfamiliar sense of warmth in his heart.

“Okay, so I have the hair ties. Let's get started on this.” Y/n said, as she came back with a small plastic bag full of tiny elastic hair ties of different colours.

As Y/n took a brush and started to detangle the small knots in Lily's hair before Rabbit spoke up. “Hey, is it okay if you can teach me how to do this? Just in case she wants this hairstyle again?”

“Yeah, that's fine with me. I can teach you.” Y/n scooted over a bit so Rabbit could also stand behind Lily and watch the process. “I can do one side of the hair while you try doing the other, yeah?”

“Yeah, sounds cool.”

“Oh, I didn't catch your name.”

“Jimmy. But people call me Rabbit.”

Y/n's lips curled into a small smile as she heard his nickname. “I'm Y/n.”

Y/n took the comb as brushed it through Lily's hair, it glided through her blonde silkiness perfectly with no problems. She took a small section of hair and parted it into 2. Y/n made sure to take her time as she explained each step with detail and precision.

“Oh, Y/n. You'll never guess who I saw at the grocery store the other day.” A lady in the chair next to Lily said. She was around in her 60s and waiting for the bleach dye in her hair to set.

“Who'd you see Margaret?” Y/n asked.

“I saw Piccolo.” She hissed.

Y/n faced to turn Margaret, her mouth slightly agape. “No you didn't. Really?”

“Really. I saw him. And I was convinced he was following me around but he said it was just a coincidence.”

“He's crazy. I bet he's still obsessed with you.”

“He is!”

“Have you not filed a complaint or anything?”

“Why should I? These policemen can't do anything.”

Y/n carried on teaching Rabbit the next steps to the hairstyle only to be interrupted by his sly whispering. “What is she talking about?”

“Her ex-husband is stalking her, she says.” Y/n replied.

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

“And we've been divorced for 20 years!” Margaret exclaimed.

Rabbit chuckled. “He must be crazy.”

“Oh he is alright.” Margaret replied. “And who's this beautiful little lady?” She asked as her eyes landed Lily with a smile. It was unbelievable how quickly she could change the tone of her voice.

Lily giggled, flashing her pearly white teeth as her shoulders pointed up. “I'm Lily. And this is my brother Rabbit.”

“Say, is your mum Stephanie?” Margaret asked as her voice piqued with curiosity.

“Uh, yeah. How'd you know?” Rabbit asked.

“I play poker with her! She's a monster when it comes to the game!” Margaret exclaimed. “You know, I'm not shocked she's your mother. You both have her charming face.”

Rabbit chuckled softly. “Thank you, appreciate it… sorry, what's your name?”

“Margaret. Margaret Holland.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure meeting you too.”

The two of them continued to exchange some small talk and share some gossip before Rabbit went back to helping Y/n. Y/n felt like at some moments, she was looking more at Rabbit than at Lily's hair. She couldn’t help it, something about him was so captivating. Maybe it was his misty blue eyes, or his adorable pointy nose, or his soft pink lips. Whatever it was, it had Y/n looking over every few seconds.

“Do I have something on my face?” Rabbit asked sternly.

Y/n was a bit taken aback by the sudden question and the tone. “Oh, no. I was just, uh, checking if you were confused or, or anything.”

Rabbit mentally slapped himself for asking such a dumb question. He was used to getting constant looks whenever he went out. It became a habit for him to put on an intimidating and stern act whenever someone did share a few looks with him. Rabbit didn't want Y/n to think that he was one of those people who got pissed at everything. He especially didn't want such a cute girl like her to think that either.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to come off like that. I'm used to getting looks, that's all.” Rabbit apologised.

“No, it's fine. Don't apologise. It's not your fault.” Y/n insisted.

“So, Lily. Do you have anything special coming up tonight?” Y/n asked, trying to change the topic.

“Yeah, I'm doing a play at school with my grade so I wanted to do my hair.” Lily responded.

“Ooh, what's the play about?”

“A princess and a night and a dragon.”

“And what do you play?”

“Me and a few other people are villagers. We get some speaking lines and we have a song and dance.”

“Well doesn't that sound fun? After this hairstyle, you're gonna be the cutest villager up there.”

Lily giggled as a soft pink colour bloomed on her cheeks rapidly. She smiled widely as her eyes curled up too.

As Y/n explained the next step that was slightly more difficult to the others, Rabbit's ears were more drawn to her voice. The soft smoothness and gentleness of her voice sent him into a trance almost. His eyes couldn't help but trail from Lily's hair to Y/n. He watched as her lips moved steadily as she instructed the steps. Her eyes had a twinkle in them from the various LED lights hung up in the store. Rabbit felt his gaze softening as he admired Y/n. This didn't feel like him. He wasn't quick to do something like this, but in this case, he thought it was okay.

“Got that?” Y/n asked.

Rabbit's eyes quickly moved off Y/n and to Lily's hair again. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

“That's fine. Here.”

Y/n put her hands over Rabbit's as she showed him how to do the next step. He could feel a small hint of blush creeping its way to his face. Her hands felt soft against his. He watched with anticipation as she did the next step for him. Rabbit felt beads of sweat trickling down the back of his head as he felt her hot breath gently gliding across his neck.

“Okay, and we are done!” Y/n said. “What do you think?” She placed a mirror behind Lily's head so the back of her hair would reflect to the big mirror in front of her.

Lily’ lips immediately stretched to a wide smile as she giggled shyly. “I love it! Thank you, Y/n.”

“Of course darling.” She replied as she took the cutting cape off.

Lily jumped out of her seat and instantly hugged her brother. She looked up at him with an adorable smile. “Do you like it?” She asked.

“I love it. Thank you Y/n, you're a lifesaver.” Rabbit replied.

“Of course. It's my job after all.”

“How much is it?” Rabbit asked as he fumbled to grab for his wallet that was buried deep somewhere in his pants pocket.

“$5.50.”

“Only?”

“Well, Lily is a pretty young client. And it was just a hairstyle.”

Rabbit pulled out a tenner from his wallet and put it in Y/n's hand quickly so she couldn’t refuse the money.

“Take it.” He said, his voice full of sincerity. “You deserve it.”

“Thank you. Come again another time, maybe I can do something with your hair.” Y/n offered.

Rabbit chuckled as he pulled off his beanie, revealing the buzz cut that had been hiding underneath. “You think you could do anything with this amount of hair?”

Y/n chuckled at the surprise. Her lips curled into a gentle smile, liking how much his hair suited him. “I could try something. Maybe I could bleach it.”

“Bleach it? Doesn't sound too bad.”

“Yeah, I think you'd look good blonde.”

A mischievous smirk formed on his lips. “Thanks. I'll consider it. See you Y/n.”

“See you too Rabbit.”

With one final glance, Rabbit and Lily left the salon as they walked off into the twilight of the night. Y/n could feel that mellow energy that they shared come to a fade as the buzz of the busy salon came back to focus. She'd never felt or experienced something like this with a client before. She's never been left with her heart beating quickly and her stomach feeling light after a customer left.

“He was cute, wasn't he?” Margaret asked.

“Yeah, he was.” Y/n replied. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and turned to face Margaret.

“Did you get a date with him?”

“Unfortunately, no. But I'm sure I'll see him again.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Fate.”

“You said you don't believe in that stuff.”

“Yeah, but, I can always change my mind, right?” Y/n replied with a sly smirk.

#eminem #eminem x reader #slim shady #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader #8 mile #b rabbit #b rabbit x reader #jimmy smith jr #jimmy smith jr x reader

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 1 year ago

Text

Badge Bunny - Part II

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

This can be read as a stand alone but find part I here!

Masterlist

Summary: A routine check at your bar goes sour. It may not be his fault, but you can certainly take out all of your frustrations on your boyfriend.

Word Count: 6.1k

18+ Minors DNI!

Warnings: Porn, with plot. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Toxic relationship (let's be honest here). Reader is physically assaulted at the beginning (not by Gator). Slight mommy kink. Switch Gator. Switch Reader. Light choking. Bondage. Oral (m & f receiving - face riding). Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Orgasm denial (m). Breeding kink. Creampie.

It was a quiet Thursday night at the Lucky Lizard Bar and Grille, more bar than it's ever been a grill. You have your regulars that have been coming here to escape for years after a hard day's work needing to blow off a little steam before heading to their respective homes.

Much like any other weeknight, about ten patrons sit at the bar and various tables in the dimly lit building.

Neons in mostly red and blue decorated the walls, reflecting those colors back onto the faces you served. The jukebox in the corner pulling up another old country song these geezers loved to hear.

Henry was behind the bar, as usual, while you waited on the tables.

It was more lively on the weekends when people your age tend to come out for karaoke when there was nothing else to do in this town on a Saturday night. That’s when the real tips came in and why you suffered these boring weekdays.

You were over in the corner to yourself counting tonight's tips totaling a whopping forty-two bucks.

Looking up only when you heard the familiar, grating voice of Sheriff Roy Tillman booming over the speakers, as two other deputies followed in behind him.

Henry was quick to turn the music off.

“Alright everyone, IDs out. Just a friendly, routine check.” He smirked, as he caught your eye.

Smug fucking bastard.

Henry spoke up, “What’s this about Sheriff?”

Everyone knows damn good and well that he never came to this part of town, let alone caught dead in this bar for a so-called 'friendly’ check or otherwise.

“Like I said Henry, just a routine check.” He motioned to the other two and they moved to start checking everyone.

You were glued to your spot, unsure of what to do. You were busy keeping your eye on Roy you hadn’t noticed Deputy Shelton walk up slowly beside you.

“ID,” he huffed out, as you turned to look up at him. He licked his lips as his beady eyes followed your curves down and slowly back up.

“I work here dipshit; I don’t have my ID on me.” You didn’t think before the words left your mouth.

“Sounds like we’ve got a problem here then.” He clicked his tongue. “See, Sheriff there got a tip this place is serving minors and we’ve got to make sure everyone’s of age. That includes you.” He stepped closer, crowding your space; the stench of his mentholated dip stuck between his lip hitting you as he spoke.

“Seein’ that I’ve never stepped foot in this shit hole before, you just look like some common bar whore t’me.”

He edged more into your space, making you take a step back further into the dimly lit corner. Further away from where others could see you.

“Ask Henry. He’ll vouch for me. Hell ask...,” you were cut off, squeaking with surprise as he grabbed your upper arm, getting right in your face.

“You back talkin’ me? No ID, and now you’re disrespecting an officer of the law? How stupid are you? I could arrest you right now and haul your ass to the station.”

“No, sir.” You timidly spoke, gritting your teeth trying to maintain some level of composure instead of ripping his head off.

He once again moved closer into your space, his hips pushing into yours. You had nowhere else to go, back hitting the rough wall.

“We can always remedy this situation, after hours, if you know what I mean.” His lips curled back into a nasty smile. You wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face. “What do you say, baby? Out back, in the alley would do just fine. I’m sure you’re used to’ that.”

His lewd insinuation made your stomach lurch.

Before you could respond Roy spoke up behind him.

“Shelton, problem back here?” For once grateful to see him.

“Naw Sheriff, just this bitch tryin’ to say she doesn’t have an ID.” He turned to face the other man, a smug look plastered to his own face, no doubt happy with his work, grip still tight on your arm, surely to leave bruises, as he pulled you around with him.

You knew most of the deputies in town were aware that you and Gator were together. Shelton was one of the hardcore jerks stuck so far up Roy’s ass that he didn’t care to pay much attention to anything else. Maybe he didn’t recognize you, or maybe he was just trying to gain favor with Roy.

“Ah, Y/N. Pleasant surprise.” He nodded, tipping his hat toward you.

The grip on your arm loosened just a bit as Shelton looked back down at you, eyes widening at the realization.

“Y/N? Gator’s Y/N?”

“The one and only.” You spoke up, looking straight back at him, while wrenching yourself from his now weak hold.

You straighten your posture, gaze shifting between both men.

“We’re almost done here Y/N. You can get back to work serving these fine men of Stark County.”

“Sure, Sheriff.” You put your head down as you walk behind the bar to the storage area where you kept your things while on shift.

It felt like the eyes of the entire bar were trailing you. You were sure if you looked up, they would be.

Henry gave you a pitying frown as you passed him, before he gently touched your arm, halting your path.

“Hey, you can go for the night. I think most everyone will clear out after this. No one wants to be hanging around knowing the Sheriff could be watching for drunk drivers.”

You just nod and continue to the back.

You grabbed your phone from your purse, typing out a quick but effective text.

WHERE ARE YOU???

It only took a few seconds to see those three dots appear. Then disappear. Then reappear once more.

Outside. Back lot.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, hoping to God that he had somehow just gotten here and hadn’t been out there the whole damn time but in the back of your mind you already knew that answer.

Putting the phone away, grabbing your purse, and throwing your jacket over your shoulders you head straight for the back door avoiding going through the front walking past Roy and his goons. You could still hear them talking with Henry as you made your exit.

The chill of the night air bit at your bare legs sending a shiver up your spine. His truck was situated in his usual parking spot whenever he would pick you up from a late-night shift. You slammed the door behind you.

Feeling like your blood was boiling, you stalked over to where he sat behind the wheel. Seeing the end of his vape light up before you could actually see him, with the putrid fruity scented cloud drifting from the window.

“Bunny,” he began as you got closer to the window, but you cut him off.

“Are you fucking kidding me Gator? Please tell me you weren’t out here this entire fucking time?”

He looked down, his silence giving you the answer as you slowly nodded, lips pursed. You could feel the fresh sting of tears welling up behind your eyes as you looked away from him.

“I’m sorry. My hands were tied.”

Taking a step back, you really appraised him. This man who was fiercely in love with you but also took a back seat when it came to his old man.

You nod, “Yeah, I get it.”

You had made up your mind.

“Fuck you, Gator Tillman.” Flipping him off as you turned away, stomping toward the main road.

“Bunny! Baby, don't be like that!” He watches you walk away, knowing you were in no mood to listen to reason.

He slammed his fist into the steering wheel, “Fuck.”

He let out a deep breath while putting the truck into drive to chase you down.

You had accepted the letdown. Per usual, just another man not living up to your expectations. Words mean absolutely nothing without some action behind them.

Using your phone's flashlight to navigate the desolate road back to your house, it was going to be a long walk.

The headlights cut through behind you, casting your shadow well beyond your line of vision into the night.

The engine roared up beside you, as he slowed the truck to your pace but you kept a steady path forward, not giving him the satisfaction of looking over.

“Bun, come on. We both know you're not gonna walk all the way home. It's cold. Get in the truck.”

You ignore him, head held high, arms tucked around yourself shielding you from the cool weather as you continue a few more paces.

“Seriously? Just gonna ignore me? That's how it's gonna be? Fine. Walk home, stubborn ass. See if I give a shit.”

You scoff, knowing he'll stay here all night if it meant you'd make it home safe and sound. Bad boy but secret softie for you.

He was growing more impatient by the second.

“Baby, C’mon. I'll make it up t'you.” He pleaded.

You stopped. He perked up, hopeful but deflated when he saw your face once you turned toward him. Tear stained, reddened and flustered.

“Make it up to me? That shouldn't have happened in the first place! If I wasn't involved with you, Roy wouldn't even bother coming by that damn place!” You yelled out, now beyond frustrated.

He let out an over exaggerated huff as his foot slammed on the brake.

“Goddamnit Bunny! Get in the fuckin' truck. You're not walkin’ home in the dark. Take this as my last warning before I drag your ass in here.” He leveled his gaze. You knew he'd do it, as you had learned the hard way on more than one occasion.

“Fine.” You sighed, not feeling up to struggling any more than you had to, stepping over and opening the door. You hopped in and slammed it. The noise made him grit his teeth and shut his eyes, but he held his tongue.

You curled into yourself and crossed your arms. Ignoring his pointed look, opting to stare out the window instead.

The rest of the drive was filled with the hum of the engine and radio softly playing. He hadn’t bothered trying to converse with you. You’d talk when you were ready. He knew when he could push and this wasn’t one of those times, though he didn’t understand why you were so mad.

Roy had told him it was just an ID check, nothing out of the ordinary and he should just “sit this one, it's a conflict of interest.” Gator did as he was told knowing you’d be a little ticked but hadn’t expected this much bratty behavior.

He pulled up to your small house. Rarely ever staying at Roy’s anymore, instead calling home wherever you may be.

You didn’t wait for him to fully put the truck in park before jumping out, slamming the door once again.

He simply closed his eyes and took a deep breath to control his temper. It was going to be a long night.

You walked through the door and shrugged off your jacket, slinging it onto the couch. The leather suddenly felt suffocating when you made it into the house.

Walking into the kitchen, you opened the fridge grabbing a fresh beer; cracking it open and chugging back about half as you heard his heavy footfalls behind you.

Gator wasn’t stupid. Something was wrong. You rarely drank, given your job most days it was revolting to you.

He unzipped his vest, removing it before setting it on the back of the kitchen chair. Then removed his hat, running a hand through his hair that was now falling at the sides.

“Bunny, you goin’ to keep bein’ a bitch and ignore me all night or are you gonna tell me what the hell happened back there?”

You were mid-swig when the words left his mouth. You slowly lowered the bottle from your lips and set it on the counter beside you, composure starting to fail.

Turning on your heel, you lunged at him. Pushing him as hard as you could, but it only moved him enough to send him back a few inches.

“Fuck you, Gator!” You yelled; eyes full of rage but it only spurred him more.

He smirked, a crooked smile across his lips that only infuriated you more as he straightened back up to his full height.

“Fuck, I love when you get like this.” His voice now turning sultry, hand reaching for your left wrist still situated on his chest.

You blinked as your mind caught up with the insinuation. You reared your free hand back to slap him, but he easily caught it mid-air.

“That’s it, need to take it out on me? Need to use me?” He whispered lower. Eyes trailing down, catching your already heaving chest. Your body now betraying you.

“Huh Bun? That…” Stopping mid-sentence, his gaze softened as he dropped his grasp from your wrist, instead lifting his hand back up to your arm as his fingers traced newly forming bruises.

“Who the fuck touched you?” He didn’t look at you directly, still examining the finger shaped splotches of light purple.

Your gaze followed his, examining them yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat before looking back up at him.

“I… It was Shelton. He…”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill him.” His jaw tightened. You could see the tendons in his neck strain as he released a harsh breath. The gears in his head were already turning.

“Gator,” you spoke softly. “Baby, please. Don't do anything rash. I need you here with me right now.”

Reaching up to cup his face, making him look you in the eye.

You leaned up nuzzling your nose into his jaw, your mouth hot on his skin. The slightest stubble forming from the long day, scratching along your cheek.

Your lips working their way up, legs straining as you stood on the tips of your toes, reaching the shell of his ear, “Make me forget,” you whispered.

Your hand slowly slid down his chest, past his belt buckle. You took his already hardening length in your hand, giving him a teasing squeeze as he responds with a breathy moan, kicking up under your touch.

“Make me forget his hands were ever on me.” You kissed him lightly, letting your words sink in.

“Anything you want Bunny. I'm all yours.”

You pull back slightly, searching his face as he tilts his head looking down at you. His usual warm caramel swirls now turned into black pools blown full.

“Get your ass in the bedroom. Now, mama.”

Smacking your ass when you don't move fast enough, groping your cheek with his large hand pulling you further into him.

His turn to whisper in your ear. “Get those cuffs ready.”

He released his grip as you moved away from him, a smirk adorning your face knowing what was to come. Another sharp smack as he followed closely behind you.

As soon as you cross the threshold, to your shared room, he wastes no time.

Pressing his chest to your back, hands trailing your curves. One of his large palms comes to rest on your hip, the other wrapping around your throat as he pulls you back, halting your breath.

His prominent bulge pressing into the fat of your ass has you pressing your hips further into him as he groans.

His lips ghost the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“Tell me what you want Bunny. Tell me what you need.” Tightening his grip before releasing it. He wanted you to answer him.

Most of the time he took what he needed; you were pliant to him. On those rare occasions, you could make him speechless with the way you dominated him. It was always a push and pull. He didn't mind letting you take the reins.

“I need you to take off that stupid fuckin' uniform and lay on the bed.”

“Mmmmm… that's it baby. Good girl.” He placed a small kiss to your temple before releasing the hold on you and pulling away from you altogether. The cool air hitting your back where his warmth had just been.

You turned to watch him as he unlatched his thigh holster, laying it on top of the dresser.

You took a seat at the foot of the bed, crossing your legs waiting patiently for his little show.

He smirked, eyes trailing your legs, he was trying to contain himself. He knew this was about you. For you.

He unbuckled his belt and popped the button on his fly. Pulling his shirt free before pulling it up over his head. His broad chest now on display for you, had your thighs pushing further together. It didn't go unnoticed, but he didn't say anything.

He unlaced and kicked his boots to the side, finally letting his pants slide from his waist.

The bulge in his boxers had you salivating. He palmed himself, slowly tracing his thick outline.

“Like what you see?” He licked his lips, hooking the band of his boxers but you stopped him before he shed them.

“Stop. Leave ‘em. Come here.” You pat the empty spot beside you.

He raised his brow but obeyed. He strode over and sat with a bounce, as you got up. Your turn to give him a show. Knowing he was already rock hard; he'd be eating out of the palm of your hand.

You stood a foot from him, almost between his thighs but not quite.

Your fingertips traced your own curves, reaching the hem of your shirt and slowly lifting it to reveal the red lacy bra that always drove him crazy.

“Fuck,” he sucked in a harsh breath. “Do you know what you do to me?”

He tried to grip your hips, but you batted his hands away.

“Nuh uh. You can look. Don't touch.”

He nodded and leant back, attempting to rub himself once more but you grabbed his wrist.

“No, you can't touch yourself either. Be a good boy for me.” You whispered, hand resting on his cheek. “Go ahead and lay back.”

He propped himself back against a couple of pillows, lacing his fingers behind his head, eyes never leaving you as you shimmed your skirt down your hips.

He whistles low, “look at my pretty girl. C’mere baby.” He says as he nods toward his lap. His cock now straining and tented in his boxers.

You saunter over, crawling up the bed slowly toward him.

You lifted yourself so you could straddle his waist, but not dropping your hips, so you were hovering over where he wanted your weight the most.

You move forward, pressing your still covered chest into his. Nose nudging slightly against his before your lips collide.

He brings his hands to your hips with a bruising grip, pushing you down on his cock while his hips shift to meet yours. Grinding, so desperately trying to find the friction you both wanted.

You moan into his mouth at the feeling, his length hitting your clit just right.

“That's it, sweet thing. Let me hear all those pretty noises.”

You lifted up slightly, tracing his jaw with your finger as you spoke.

“Here's what's going to happen tonight. I'm going to ride this handsome face, but” you tightened your hand as much around his throat as it would allow. “If you even think about touching yourself or cumming, I will cuff you and leave you aching and begging all night.”

“Fuck, Bunny. I'll do anything for my girl.” He said as his eyes linger on your lips.

“I'm going to put that mouth to good use.”

He quickly shifted you from his lap, nearly shoving you off the bed in the process. You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped from his show of eagerness.

He scooted down, into the bed allowing himself to be more flat against the pillow.

“C’mon baby, don't leave me waiting. Use me. Use my face. You know you want to.”

You slowly hooked the lace between your fingers and slid them down your thighs as he watched you intently, licking his lips. You flicked them toward him with a giggle. He easily caught them, laying them on the nightstand.

You crawl back over to him and straddle his chest as he pulls you closer, hands digging into the fat of your ass. You grip the headboard to keep from falling forward.

“Don't take it easy either baby, set that pretty ass down and ride my fuckin’ face.”

You nod and lift yourself; he groans once your bare, glistening pussy is on full display in front of him.

“Fuck Bunny, she's dripping already.” Your lips slightly parted, putting you more on display, as you pushed your hips further toward him. “Fuck, look at her.”

You get no warning before he wraps his hands around your thighs and pulls you down atop his waiting mouth.

He licks a fat stripe from your sopping heat up to your clit. Finding your engorged nub easily, swirling his tongue. Your back arched into the feeling, grinding your hips down as you gripped the headboard tighter.

“Fuck, Gator.” You moaned out. You caught his eyes in between your thighs as he continued.

He was eating you like a man starved. Loving the taste of you on his tongue he could easily cum just from the taste and sight of you coming undone.

Laving his tongue between your entrance to your clit and back down. Savoring everything you'd give him.

It wasn't long before you felt that coil start to tighten. He was watching your face as best he could nestled between your thighs, as you began to scrunch your brows giving in to pleasure.

He took your clit in between his lips and sucked harshly, moaning around you from the way your body reacted to him.

“Baby, fuck!” You cried out, “Just like that.”

He didn't let up, tongue swirling, teeth scraping before sucking you in once more between his lips. You let go while screaming his name, blinded momentarily by the fireworks you swore were behind your eyes.

He sucked gently a few more times, before letting you grind your hips onto him as you came down from your high.

His grip loosened as you slid further down, sitting on his chest, as he started to sit himself back up. He donned a shit eating grin, your fluids slick on his mouth and chin.

You leaned over and fell into the mattress beside him, still trying to catch your breath. Chest heaving from the excursion.

Not giving you much of a reprieve, he started assaulting your neck with his mouth.

Trailing sticky kisses down, his saliva mixed with your juices, tracing your collar, sucking, then quickly soothing it with his tongue. Sure to leave fresh marks in their wake.

Slowly he moved lower, between your cleavage.

He suddenly pulled the fabric of your bra down, taking your already pebbled nipple into his mouth switching between sucking and biting.

You whined at the feeling, as your pussy began to once more throb with an ever-growing need.

His hand traced your stomach, just when you thought he was going to delve between your thighs, he removed his hand entirely.

You chanced a glance down, as he pulled his boxers out of the way and wrapped his hand around his cock. His perfect tip now red and angry, leaking a pearly bead from his slit that he gathered before easing his hand back down.

“Gator,” you say with a breathy exhale.

“Hmmmm?” He hummed without looking up, continuing his current ministrations to himself, while leaving hickies across your chest.

“What did I tell you about keeping your hands to yourself?” Your voice raspy.

He stopped, caught like a deer in headlights, he looked up at you with eyes nearly black. He knew what that tone meant.

“I'm sorry, Bun.” He grins.

“No, but you will be. Lay back and put your hands up, pretty boy.”

You had been waiting for the slip up. The moment he'd fuck up. He always did.

You stood, so he could make himself more comfortable, scooting back up into the bed, his head hitting the pillows as he raised both hands above his head.

“Gator, baby,” you slid the cool steel around one wrist and tightened it into place. “I think you enjoy this a little too much.”

He laughed out, as you clicked the other into place.

If anyone ever happened upon the set of cuffs left around the bed frame, they'd just assume he used them on you. He did some nights but they were mostly used on him. He got handsy, and sometimes you needed to teach him a lesson.

Once you were done, you started to ease your way down to his boxers. Fingers tiptoeing down his chest, his stomach until you reached the hem.

“This what you want, baby?” You teased.

He nodded, face flushed red, as he bit his bottom lip before finally answering, “Yeah. P… please.”

You eased the offending garment from his hips as he aided you by lifting and letting you guide them the rest of the way down his thighs before throwing them to the side.

His cock was sitting pretty, leaned against his abdomen.

His size never ceased to amaze you; thick, and long. Prominent veins running the length. He was perfect.

You eased back up toward him. Hands splayed on his thighs. Watching his cock flex from being so close to where he needed you.

Still wearing your bra, you finally removed it, as he let out a groan.

“Prettiest tits. How'd I get so lucky?” He hummed, mostly to himself.

You spread his thighs apart, seating yourself between them. He bucked slightly, as you heard the metal restraints hit the headboard. You eyed him playfully, but his eyes were already closed, fists clenched.

You lowered your mouth, as your tongue made contact with his shaft, he moaned out a pathetic whine, running it from base to tip. He threw his head back further into the pillows.

“This it baby? This what you need?”

“Mmmmhmmm.” He nodded, still not meeting your gaze. He was trying to stave off his release. This was about you right now.

Your mouth trailed kisses back down his length. Breathing in his heady, musky scent when you reached his balls.

You took one into your mouth, sucking lightly as your other hand teasingly kneaded the other.

“Oh fuck… shit shit shit.” His hips raised, dick bobbing with the motion, only spurring you further as you hummed around him.

“Bunny, baby, please.” He whined out.

You released him with a slight pop.

“Hmmmmm baby? Look at me and tell me what you need.” Your voice was syrupy sweet as you spoke, unlike the devilish way you were currently torturing him.

He already looked fucked out. His usually meticulous hair disheveled about. His lips parted, releasing shaky pants as he finally met your eyes.

“I…” he swallowed. “I need you to touch me. Fuck me.”

“That's it. Good boy.” You hummed your approval as your hand finally wrapped around his base, squeezing lightly.

“Goddamn,” he let out breathlessly, he pulled on his restraints once more to no avail.

You licked the dribble of precum leaking down the side of his head as he shuddered. Finally enveloping him in your warm, wet mouth taking him as far back as your throat would allow.

You began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks and pumping what you couldn't fit.

He was panting, letting out moans. His noises only make you more wet, suddenly your cunt is clenching around nothing, making you well aware of your own neglected desire.

His hips suddenly jerked up making you gag around him, taking him further down your throat.

“Fucking hell. I… I need to fuck you. I'm not going to last like this.” He choked out. “Please baby. I need my cock in that sweet little pussy.”

You pull off of him, still holding his base with a firm grip.

“Fine,” you sighed, climbing into his lap situating your bare cunt so you were straddling his cock, but you didn't move.

You leaned over pressing a kiss to his chest, reaching in between you as you lifted your hips and lined him up to your entrance.

You pressed another kiss to his cheek, “I'm going to put you out of your misery, but it's because my neglected cunt is throbbing right now, and don't you dare fucking cum until after I've had another.”

He nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Promise, just need you.”

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, only allowing the tip to breach, you moaned in unison at the small relief.

You then began the descent, taking each inch little by little feeling every ridge and vein as his cock filled you to the brim.

He soon bottomed out, as your hips settled flush to his. It had you moaning out again.

“Fuck baby, you're so big.” You were trying to give your pussy time to adjust but he snapped his hips up into you, ever impatient.

“Ow, fuck Gator!” you whined out, looking back down to him.

“Quit bein' a fuckin’ cock tease. Bounce Bunny!" He growled.

You raised your hips, obliging him. Alternating between bouncing and grinding.

Sounds of shared pants and moans mixed with your slick cunt filled the room.

“Yeah, mama. That's it. Use my cock. Take what you need. Is’ all yours.” He started blabbering, tuning out half of what he was saying.

“Shut up Gator!” You'd suddenly had enough of his mouth.

You reached over and found what you were looking for, shoving your wadded up panties past his lips. When your taste hit his tongue once more, he couldn't help from moaning around them as his eyes rolled back.

You continued to ride him just the way you both liked. Warmth blooming in your abdomen, but not quite what you needed.

Raising up so you could toy with your clit, you rubbed circles to your aching nub while still trying to maintain a rhythm as you close your eyes focusing on the feeling.

A few more rolls of your hips and well-orchestrated pressure to your bundle of nerves and you were teetering on the edge.

You were wound tight, as the sounds of Gator fighting the fabric still in his mouth started to be more apparent, but you pay it no mind.

You were tipping over the edge once more.

Harder than before, your pussy clenched around him. Almost strangling him, he let out a few more muffled moans, but you knew he hadn't cum.

You rode it out with a few more grinds, your clit now becoming too sensitive. Your body slumped forward, hands splayed out across his chest, as you tried to control your ragged breath.

He was finally able to spit the fabric out with a huff.

“Bunny, look at me.” He spoke.

When you didn't respond right away, he bucked his hips again making you falter, but it gained your attention as you met his eyes.

“Hey! Unlock the cuffs.” His eyes grew darker, he needed to fuck you. Make you fall apart beneath him.

“Now! Get the fuckin' key.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

He was done playing games. You let him slip from you, moving your shaky hand quickly to the side table pulling the drawer open and producing the key.

He watches your every move, eyes full of hunger. The key slid into the lock and unlatched easily. As soon as his wrists were free, he was on you.

He flipped you both easily, so you were now on your back. Knocking your thighs apart to accommodate him, grabbing your hips and pulling you further up he slid his cock back in with one swift push to the hilt.

“Oh… Fuck!” Your back arched, screaming his name as he pulled nearly all the way out only to push back in setting a near brutal pace in your now overstimulated cunt, his head kissing your cervix with each push.

He watched your tits bounce with every thrust, as his eyes slid lower watching his massive dick split you open over and over again. The sight of the creamy ring at the base of his cock from your juices was driving him mad.

Your eyes rolled back, as you fisted the sheets beneath your hands, trying to ground yourself.

He leaned forward, hand moving around your throat pinning you under him.

“Look at you, all dumb on my fuckin' cock. Mmmmm. You… you think it's funny teasin’ me all fuckin’ night?” He asked but knew you were too far gone to actually answer. He couldn't stop the words from spilling out.

“That's it, sweet thing, takin’ this cock so fuckin' well.” He thrusts harshly, making you cry out once more.

He pistons his hips up slightly, so he could abuse that spot inside you he knew would have you seeing stars in no time as you fluttered around him. He tightened his hold on your throat, cutting off your air slightly.

“That's it baby. She's practically sucking me back in now. You can give me one more, right?”

You whimpered.

Unsure if you could but when he started talking to you in that condescending tone and his cock shoved so far up your pussy you could practically feel him rearranging your insides, it really was only a matter of time.

“C’mon baby. Cum with me.” He was watching as your face started contorting, a mix of pain from overstimulation and pleasure. Your mouth fell slack, nothing but whimpers falling from your lips.

“I… I’m close, Bun,” his rhythm faltering slightly.

He raised up, removing his hand from your throat, as you gasped for the air you didn't know you were missing.

He brought his thumb down to your clit, drawing harsh circles.

“Gator, no…ugh... fuck, fuck, fuck.” It was too late. Your orgasm hit you like at full force. You hadn't even felt it building, it was just there.

Your pussy clamped down around him once more as you came with a scream.

“Shitshitshit. There… there she is.” He was able to mumble out as his own release came crashing down.

“Take it all mama. Every single drop. That's what you want, hmmmmm… Fuck… Make sure everyone knows your mine. No one will EVER fuckin' touch you again.”

He filled you, rope after rope painted you from within. He hadn't cum this hard in a long time. He felt like a man possessed, wanting nothing more than to claim you, breed you. Show everyone you were his.

He collapsed on top of you. Head laid on your chest.

You were both sweaty and spent but neither one cared as you both tried to slow your erratic breathing.

Soft pants, shared breaths. He stayed like that for a moment before his softening cock slid from you. He looked up at you then, a small smile and doe eyed.

He began to pepper kisses between your breasts. Lips skimming the various marks that he had left. Kissing the fading red splotches where his hand had been around your throat.

“These are the only kind of marks that are allowed be left on you." He whispered, easing up the rest of the way as he found your lips. You moved languid against each other, savoring the taste of his tongue on yours.

When he’d had his fill he rolled over beside you, pulling you with him.

You laid your head on his chest as he reached down to pull the covers over you both. His arm wrapped around your middle, holding you tightly as he kissed the top of your head.

“You got nothin’ to worry about Bunny. I'll take care of it. Take care of you. Promise.” He whispered, barely hearing him as you let sleep take hold.

You hadn't felt it when he slipped away while you were peacefully off in Dreamland.

Finally returning in the wee hours of the morning with dawn quickly approaching the mattress dipped with his weight as he crawled back in beside you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back into his chest, as he hid his face in the crook of your neck breathing deeply and releasing a heavy sigh.

And when you both woke with the sun filtering through the curtains you didn't mention his bloodied and bruised knuckles that weren't there the night before.

And when Deputy Shelton hadn't shown up for work the next day or the entire following week, you didn't mention that either. It was none of your business.

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mirrology · 7 months ago

Note

hello!! I simply adored your platonic aventurine fic, so if requests are still open may I ask for a scenario with him and us going shopping together? thank you in advance, have a lovely day 💓

ノ Eudaemonia .ᐟ ʚɞ

୨୧ Eudaemonia: (adjective) The state of being lucky

ft. Aventurine, gender neutral reader, platonic. wc: 540

Content: teen reader, big brother aventurine, they go shopping in a big mall (not specified where though), reader likes taking photos, reader and march 7th are besties, all fluff no angst!! / a day at the mall with your brother!!

Notes: I tried working as fast as I could to get this posted so it might seemed rushed, but I hope you enjoy :D ! Also short.

You snapped a photo of the giant crystal chandelier that's was hanging from the ceiling of the mall. The large crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, its many crystals and gemstones glimmering in the light. It catches the light like prisms, projecting a shimmering rainbow of light around the entire mall.

You nodded to yourself and put your phone in your pocket. "I see you're interested in that chandelier." A voice came from behind you. You twisted your head around to meet with the familiar eyes of your elder brother.

You stood there for a moment after taking the photo, your eyes glued to your phone's screen as you examined the picture you just snapped. Your eyes flicker up and down the screen, taking in every detail of the image captured on your phone. Your face lit up, the photo had captured the regal atmosphere of the chandelier pretty well! You'll have to send this to March, she had always liked things like this anyway.

In his hands were two cups of flavored boba, one for you and one for him. "Uh, duh!" You playfully scoffed as Aventurine held out your drink to you. You took the beverage from his hand. "This is the biggest one I've ever seen!" You looked back up to it, your eyes sparkling in amazement. Aventurine chuckled at your enthusiasm, "I've seen many, and I can agree. This is truly one of a kind. " He leaned on the metal railing of the central part of the mall.

You nodded your head in silent agreement. You latched onto the straw of your drink, savoring the sweet flavor and the boba gracing your tongue. You closed your eyes in content, humming in the process.

"Well, where to now?" You asked your elder brother all while putting your hand on your hip. "Hm.." He thought for a moment, "Why don't you choose?" Aventurine flashed you a closed eyed smile. You lit up in an instant. You knew exactly which store to go to first. You grasped your brothers hand in yours and pulled him along. "Come on! I have the perfect store!"

You brought it to your chest and hugged it. "Going to build-a-bear was the best idea ever!" You exclaimed. Aventurine had gotten one of his own donned in a cute hoodie, deep blue jeans, and some sneakers. An emerald bow sat on its left wrist, matching yours.

You held up the plush in the air, the flourecent lights reflecting on its beady eyes. The teddy bear was dressed as if it's ready to attend a formal event. It's wearing a finely tailored little suit, complete with a bow-tie and polished black leather shoes on its plush feet. The teddy bear looks super fancy despite its adorable and huggable appearance. On its right wrist, a ribbon in shape of a bow of a color that you picked out.

"Thank you so much, Aven!" You grinned at him and rested your head on his shoulder. Aventurine smiled back at you and rested his head on yours. He reached over and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"Whatever you want, little one" He rubbed his cheek on your head like a cat.

...

"Hey! You're messing up my hair!'

#honkai star rail #platonic relationships #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral reader #hsr platonic #hsr x reader #hsr x reader platonic #hsr #aventurine x reader platonic #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #star rail aventurine #march 7th #march 7th hsr

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mrslankyman · 1 year ago

Text

Pick a Side

Montague x (fem) reader

-> perhaps diamonds look better than hope

-> warning: slight mention of smut

-> 2k words

Today's mission was a little different. You were being sent to the Grand Glacier Hotel. How grand it truly is you will find out. Montague has been on the UnderGrounds list for a while.

His vault had many items inside that would give clues as to where Peely was.

Only problem was there was no way inside without distracting the boss.

He was quite the mastermind you had to admit. Going from a low life thief to a rich billionaire. Leader of the Society. Heart of diamond, nerves of steel.

He really had his slogan going for him. Owner of a fancy hotel? He knew how to get the bag.

Too bad he had no idea about you. High agent in the UnderGround knew just how to get a rich man's attention.

You pulled up to the hotel on your high class motorcycle. Why get a lambo? It wouldn’t stand up.

Your diamond motorcycle was more classy. Beadies didn’t Montage love diamonds.

Your outfit was detected out in blue and crystals. A classy race suit. With a helmet just as decorated. This was how you always went to missions.

With your motorcycle and wit.

The only reason you even got so high up in the Under Ground was your motorcycle gang. They were tired of the millionaires on the island taking areas that they owned.

You headed up the steps looking through your helmet's glass.

A few guards walked around. They instantly turn to you as you enter the building. Your suit glittering in the light of the hotel lobby. Montague was at the top of the steps. He instantly looked at you.

You noticed his eyes widen at the sight of your outfit. Diamonds sure did catch his attention. Seemed like he had an interest already by the way he walked down putting a hand up in a guard's face to make his way over to you.

His medallion on his neck glistened. You needed to keep him distracted for about an hour. Jonsey and Hope said any longer and you’d need to leave quickly. Meaning the mission failed.

“How lovely to see a new face.” The man's French accent hit your ears. A smug smirk tugged at his lips. He sure as hell had a handsome face. Almost felt like a waste to want to take this man down.

Perhaps you could take him down in a different way. There was an idea for a distraction.

“How lovely it is to see your face.” You offred back as a witty response, slowly sliding off your helmet. Shaking out your hair and letting your helmet rest on your waist. Giving him a quick up and down glance.

He let out a breathy laugh at your response. “Love to see a woman in diamond.” He bit his lip giving you a once over glance. “Love to see a man in diamond.” You took a step closer. He didn’t move. He was beginning to enjoy this. He had flirted with many women before.

He knew what they liked. How to charm and woo them.

“What brings you here?” He titled his head the white tips of his hair parted so perfectly The scar on his eye made him look so much more menacing.

“I need a room for the night. Traveling to Ritzy Rivera tomorrow. It’s a tad bit too far of a drive for now though.” You offered a quick excuse. He nodded his head thinking over it. “Of course. We have plenty of rooms.” He headed over to the check in area. You followed him taking note of his outfit.

“Room 203.” He held out the key to you, your hands brushing as you took it. Or well his gloved hands.

“Do you mind if we chat for a while?” You quipped quickly noting how he began to walk off.

He thought for a second. You had caught his attention greatly. He never saw a woman just pull up to the front on a motorcycle. Specifically dolled out in diamonds.

All the girls he had talked to or been in the presence of drooled or fell over his feet. They never wanted to just talk.

Maybe you were different. He was rich, had a whole business to run and a gift to make things into diamonds. Perhaps you liked him for him, as much as you knew.

You seemed rich enough. Didn’t need his money.

“Sure, we can chat.” He nodded and sat down on one of the chairs in the lounge.

You took a seat in front of him. Eyeing him with your poker face.

“Do you often wear such little clothing when biking in the snowy mountains?” His question almost shocked you. Perhaps you did have little clothing on. Your racing suit was a one piece. With holes at the knees, a gap to show your stomach and some of your back. Cleavage on display as well. Perhaps that’s what he liked.

“Do you like what you see or are you complaining?” You bit your lip and leaned back in the chair. Noticing his eyes go from yours to your exposed chest area.

“The first option.” He leaned forward in his chair, hands clasping together.

“Though I would hate to only like you for your body. Do tell me about yourself.” He leaned back now instead of forward. Eyes going back to yours. Being respectful.

“Right.” A small smile creeped up your face. “I race motorcycles and cars. Got my own motorcycle club. Could say I get quite a lot of money from racing.” You crossed your legs and titled your head a little. “I don’t fall so easily into men like you. So, I'm sorry to burst your bubble if you thought this was going to go somewhere. When I drove that bike up here I didn’t have my legs wide open. Mr.Heart of Diamonds.” A smug smirk came on your face at his reaction.

“Oh no my heart.” He clutched his chest acting to be in pain. “This girl got me, what a shame she won’t like me.” A fake cry came from him now. He stood up quickly. Gaining himself back to his straight face and tough exterior.

“I’ll show you how to spread your legs open for me.” He stood over you. He was quite tall. The earpiece covered by your hair went off.

“Vault successful. Heading out soon.” Hope's voice rang through.

He leaned down, his hands gripping the arm rests of the chair. You looked up at him. Smirks on both your faces.

“One of us is going to have to crack.” His voice was so low you almost couldn’t understand him. The accent wasn’t helping either.

The tension was high as he was merely centimeters from your face. The second you walked into this hotel you knew it would end like this.

Did you mind? No. To be truthful his file photo was pretty handsome.

There was a reason you were so quick to take this mission. You one knew you could distract him but also. You wanted to distract him.

He was a bad man. Your group hated him. But imagine how much he could help your club. You could own half the island with him.

Race on the side and become higher up in the world. The UnderGround was bound to end someday. These guys were too good. It’s not like Hope is going to be able to take down her sister.

Everyone saw how she looked when her sister was mentioned. She could never hit the killing shot. It would have to be here to give the go on it.

This other option had so much more potential for you in the long run.

You had betrayed an agency before. Shadow wasn’t so keen on you.

Midas just had better options for you. Of course you’d be a double agent. Feeding info to both sides never choosing one.

This time you’d choose a side.

“Why don’t you give in then? You seem like you want this.” Your teasing voice hit Montagues ears.

He didn’t even care that you two were in the public lounge now. He chuckled and smashed his lips to yours. “I’d give in any time.” He said between kisses. His lips were cold yet they kissed you with such hunger.

“You’re the most outstanding woman I've met. To act like you don’t care about the richest man on the map kissing you. Such a little bitch.” He fell back on his chair. Pulling you over with him.

You slung your legs over and sat on his lap.

“Maybe I don’t care.” You teased back, lips back on him. His only response was a quiet moan.

His hands gripped your sides, causing a small gasp to escape your lips. “I know you care, how could you not, beautiful?” He shook his head. His hair shook slightly.

He pulled you back and let his lips hold yours captive.

He kissed with such eagerness. Were you truly this desirable?

Perhaps he was just very horny.

“Mission is a success. Head out now.” Hope's voice echoed in your ear as Montauges tongue explored your mouth.

You ignored the cue to leave. It will be easy. Just get up and walk out. Leaving the man hard and confused.

Though you didn’t want to leave so soon. Or ever for that matter.

“Let me walk you to your room, please.” His eagerness to see you to your room made your heart skip a beat. For him to be a gentleman even after such a hot make out sesh.

You got off his lap and accepted his offer. He gave a flirty smile and headed up the stairs, leading you to your room.

The sound of the door unlocking then quickly shutting was all you heard as your lips were sealed to Montagues again. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, not letting go.

You let him hold you. He was deprived of someone.

He could have all the girls he wanted yet he refused to get too handsy. He would let them please him. Not giving much to them. Not like they cared, they just wanted the money.

You were different.

You made his heart melt.

His nerves flare up.

Your hands running through his hair caused him to be reminded of the boner growing painfully harder in his pants.

“I have known you for only a few hours, yet I want you forever.” His husky words made you think.

You pulled back from him. Looking up at him with a serious face. “Are you serious?” His answer would change your life and reputation forever.

“More serious than I have ever been in my life.” He whispered in your ear. “As long as you aren’t taking me for my money I’d be glad to call you mine.” He kissed your neck as his hot breath tickled your skin.

“I’ll take you for something else if you let me.” You moaned out receiving a chuckle from the man.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He shoved you down on the silky bed. Trench coat being torn off and vest unbuttoned in seconds.

—--

The way he had worshiped you in bed. Grabbed you in all the right places and made sure you were okay with anything; made you want to be his even more.

You were his woman. The reason he was happy to get up in the morning. Sure he had money and a gift to turn anything to diamonds, but you were the best gift in his life.

He had begged you to stay, bring your club here. He would help you out.

He was so soft around you, yet such an ass hole to everyone else.

Even better.

You never went back to the UnderGround. You never even notified them of your leave.

It must have shocked them all the moment your own Pub was established not too far from Grand Glacier.

Not only that but your club had joined you. Hearing the perks and benefits of this new business deal.

Not only did you own a part of the map, have Montague around your finger, and a biker club decked out in so many weapons the UnderGround would regret losing you, you also had power.

All the Millionaires on the map know you now.

They know their boss doesn’t want his girl to be messed with.

It was only a matter of time before the UnderGround was taken out.

After all, you have picked a side now.

#montague x reader #montague fortnite #fortnite #this is stupid

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izelthewashbear · 1 month ago

Text

Would you still love me if I was a snail? (fragment)

How about some Wild Life Treebark fic? :>

Martyn's ears suddenly perked up. He grabbed his shovel like a weapon and looked around.

"Who's there?"

"Who? Who's where?" Ren huffed, looking around.

"I-I dunno, I just heard someone... Someone, going like... 'Woo-wheey'?"

"Are you feeling okay...?" Gem asked, half concerned and half amused. The Listener turned towards her with a bitter smile.

"Absolutely not! But thanks for asking."

"Guys, look!" Ren grabbed Martyn by the arm and pulled him closer, then pointed at something. It was moving in the grass, but it was really hard to see... The Listener squinted, trying to see the incoming danger.

"Is that... A snail...?"

Slowly but steadily, a snail was crawling towards them. It didn't look like a normal snail - for starters, it was much bigger, almost the size of a person's head. It also appeared discolored - its foot and head had a yellowish color and its shell was a combination of brown and white, with a big green spot in the middle. Blue, beady eyes at the ends of its upper tentacles were staring at Martyn. The blond man crouched and reached out towards the gastropod.

"I think it is... Why is there a snail...?" he huffed.

"It kinda looks like you, dude" Ren pointed out, his tail wagging.

"I-I guess it does...?"

Suddenly, the snail loudly yelped and lunged towards Martyn. The Listener let out a startled scream and fumbled back, narrowly avoiding being touched by the mollusk.

"It attacked me!" he huffed, scrambling back away from the snail. "Guys, move back!"

"Awwwww, it looks so cute! And look, there is another one coming!" Gem pointed out, seeming more so amused by the situation than startled by the strange animal.

"There is?" Ren huffed, following where the woman was looking.

"Ren! A little help, please?" Martyn huffed, attempting to crush the snail. Its shell didn't even crack from being hit repeatedly with an iron shovel. In a last ditch effort to distance himself, the blond man kicked the gastropod away.

And with the smallest of touch, he turned into a cloud of smoke.

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mermaidgirl30 · 9 months ago

Text

Love Amidst the Blue Ch 2: Captured✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I hope you enjoy chapter two! Joel and mermaid reader are so 🥰 Enjoy all the fluff and please let me know yours thoughts!

Chapter Summary: After discovering a magic necklace that’ll give you what you desire, you get caught in a net and find yourself trapped. It’s not just any boat though, it’s Joel’s boat.

Pairing: sailor! Joel x mermaid fem! reader

Word Count: 7k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Chapter Tags: Reader finds a magic shell necklace, pining, fluff, a little bit of angst, tension, longing, Joel takes care of reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The next day you can’t wait to see Joel. You’d stayed awake half the night just daydreaming about those dreamy brown eyes and calloused hands as you rolled back and forth in the silky pink clam shell bed. You want to see him again, want to ask him about all his sailing adventures and treasures he’s found. So that’s exactly what you’d do. Tonight.

You quickly check your hair in the long standing mirror and pick a rainbow colored sea flower from the ocean floor, spinning around in a circle as you bring it to your face to smell and place it back down in the soft sand. You flick your tail and swim through the kingdom of Capri as you pass other mermaids and mermen, trailing your fingers along golden palace walls and shimmery pearls that hang from strings beside the palace entrance.

Before you can make it out, you run into your father, the king of Capri. “Oh, hi father,” you say dreamily as your head fills with images of Joel’s handsome face.

“Morning, sweetie. Where are you off to in such a hurry? Haven’t seen you lately, you okay?” he asks as he trails his eyes over your lovesick expression, trying your best not to give yourself away.

“I’m okay. Just wanted to get a head start on picking some shells in the kelp beds. You know how I love making jewelry,” you lie, trying your best to keep a straight face as a slight giggle escapes your lips.

Your father looks at you carefully, his golden crown slipping further down his long locks as his glistening gold triton sits next to his intricate throne made of shells. If he suspects something, he doesn’t say. He just nods his head as a smile tugs at his lips.

“Ahh, I see. You always did make the finest jewelry in the kingdom,” he smiles. “Just be careful. Take Scar with you. I’ve been hearing rumors that humans have been getting close to the area. Don’t want you getting tangled up in that nonsense,” he warns, his eyes on fire as he thinks about the day he lost his most precious wife. The day you lost your mom and half your people. That cold, dreadful day.

“Promise, daddy. I’ll be safe.”

Marissa and Cleo narrow their eyes at you in the back of the room, knowing damn well you are in fact meddling in human affairs. You drag your eyes over to them and give them a pleading look, begging them not to say a word. They must acknowledge it because they don’t say a word, they just float and stare at you with beady eyes.

“Alright, well have fun. Just be careful and don’t talk to the eels. They’re always pulling nasty tricks with us,” he says with narrowed eyes.

“Goodbye, daddy,” you say as you wave and head out, swimming through thick beds of seaweed as you pass a school of clown fish.

You don’t get very far until Marissa and Cleo are swimming in front of you, blocking you from going any further.

“Where are you off to really?” Cleo asks as her long blonde hair spirals down her back, her aquamarine tail fanning out as she narrows her piercing blue eyes at you.

“You’re going to see that human again, aren’t you?” Marissa just copies her menacing look and crosses her arms as her tail turns a deeper purple than it was a few minutes ago.

You’re trapped. They know what you plan to do, and there’s no point lying to them. They know. “Tonight, yes,” you confess with a sigh, feeling them judge you harshly by the way they gnash their teeth in your direction.

“You’re so selfish, you know that? Risking our kind, for what? So you can live out your little daydream of finding love with a human? You’re so fucking selfish, sister. So stupid,” Marissa says with sharp incisors snarling in your direction.

You take it upon yourself to fight back, defend your stance. “I’m not being selfish! If you just for once listened to me, you’d know he was different. He doesn’t want to hurt me. He’s going to tell me all about the human world, answer all my questions about being on land,” you fight back, standing up for yourself.

“Pffft. Gods, you’re delusional. You’re going to risk everything!” Cleo shouts as her blaring voice booms through the water. You gasp at the force of her words.

“I’m not though…” you say quietly, biting your lip to soothe the guilt inside your stomach. Maybe you are risking it all, but he wouldn’t hurt you. Would he?

“You forget your place in this family,” Marissa snarls bitterly. “Do you remember what happened to Stacia? Remember how she was so sure she found a nice human man? Remember how he dragged a knife through her heart and left her to bleed out on the ocean floor!” The pain in her voice is stifling as you cringe against her rough accusations.

Stacia. Of course you remembered. You remembered how heart broken your mother and father were, remembered him banishing any of his people from ever speaking to humans again. Now all they did was sing their siren songs to sailors while drowning them in the water which you were supposed to be a part of, too…

“Of course I remember! But Joel, he’d never do that…” you say quietly, trying your best not to shed a tear at how furious you are.

“Go on then. We won’t wait up for you,” Marissa says sharply as her and Cleo turn and swim back to the palace.

You sigh and swim the opposite way of them, feeling Scar follow behind as a large shadow takes form over your body. You can already feel Scar’s judgement wearing down on you, can feel the warning that lies in his big eyes.

“Scar, don’t make me feel anymore guilty than I already do,” you sigh out, carrying your body through the crystal clear water as you pass another school of colorful fish. “I know what I’m doing,” you press. He just rolls his eyes and continues following you, watching over you just like you did for him that cold, dark day years ago.

You continue swimming through the blue water as you flip through small rock tunnels and coast along the sandy bottom. You’re so close to your cave full of treasures that you can practically feel your collected items start to hum. Or wait, did you actually hear a buzzing sound?

You dive down further, dodging floating kelp and going into darker regions like places you shouldn’t be going. The water becomes colder, more frigid as you pass in between a rock formation. One that Scar won’t be able to fit through.

You look up at him swimming close by and you can hear his warning words come deep from within him. “Don’t go places where I can’t protect you. You know what lies beneath this area,” he warns as his large tail swishes back and forth, making circles in the water.

“Just give me a second. I hear something. Be right back,” you promise as you push your way through the narrow surface of crowded rocks.

You slide against the rocky terrain and follow the buzzing noise. It seems to reverberate off the rocks, making its way all the way down into your bones. The humming seems to ring in your ears, making its way all the way down to your fast beating heart.

Thump, thump, thump.

You can hear it, can feel it all the way down to your shiny fins. Whatever it is is calling to you, yelling your name as it echoes off the jagged rocks. You can hear Scar slashing against the water, but you keep going. You have to find out what it is.

The narrow rocks form into a wide open area that’s dark and cold, no other fish or coral reefs around this area. It’s a place you shouldn’t be. Before you can turn back around, you hear the humming noise pick up. It burns your ears as white noise takes hold of you, and when you look down is when you see something shiny sitting underneath a long grey rock.

You swim to the bottom of the dark area and brush away the sand that covers the hidden object. When you get ahold of what’s been humming and bring it back into the light, you freeze. What’s now in your hand is a long golden chain that holds the most beautiful clam shell you’ve ever seen before. Soft, creamy orange colors turn to purple and iridescent pink colors as you feel along every crevice of the shell. It’s unique, unlike any you had found before, and now it’s yours.

When you turn around to go show Scar what you have found, you’re stopped in place, unable to move as a long, slimy eel stands in your way of your only exit out of here. You gasp as your eyes go wide, remembering the warning your father had given you earlier.

Don’t talk to the eels, they only want to trick us.

“Well, well, well. So, someone finally found the magic necklace,” she says as she flashes you a sly smirk.

“Magic necklace?” you ask confused as you look back over the shiny shell. It didn’t look magical, not that you could see.

“My dear girl, that there is no ordinary necklace. It only shows itself to those who are worthy, to those pure of heart, to those desperate for something more,” she teases as she slithers around you with her cold, slimy tail.

You knit your eyebrows together and hold it tighter in your hand. “But what does it do? What makes it magical?” you ask conflicted. You shouldn’t be talking to an eel, shouldn’t even be here alone. But yet you stay, unable to leave as you need answers now.

“You long for legs, don’t you?” she smirks as a small laugh echoes around the dark water as you stare into the light that shines from behind the narrow rock formation.

“What makes you say that?” you ask sharply, not wanting to give your intentions away with Joel.

“It’s obvious, dear. That necklace there is a powerful thing. Put it on and you are free to go on land, have legs, explore the human world as if you were a human yourself.”

“What?” you gasp as you feel your eyes widen more.

“Yes, child. Put it on and you’ll never have to worry about being stuck with a tail again. Unless that’s what you want. You’d be free to take it off anytime and return to the sea. It’s up to you, but looks like it’s yours now.”

A low snicker cackles from her sharp teeth and her eyes glow a tinted yellow. Something malicious and evil sits in her voice, and you know something isn’t right. It’s almost like she is tricking you.

“You’re tricking me!” you accuse, voice higher as you shout your accusations.

“Oh, but I’m not. Don’t you trust me?” she laughs as she rubs up against your arm and swirls her tail against the back of your neck. You squirm at her cold touch.

“My father told me not to trust your kind,” you say carefully.

The eel spits in your direction. “Your father is a fool, child. I’m not lying to you when I say that necklace does just that. It’s an old, ancient magic. One so strong that it was kept in a tiny vessel and hidden away many years ago. You keep it safe, and it’s yours. Don’t let anyone take it from you because in the wrong hands it could be very, very dangerous,” she warns as she stalks around you slowly, her flashy eyes staring into yours like a hunter watching its prey.

You examine the necklace in your palm, watching the shiny shell glisten around your hold. The colors seem to swirl like a rainbow, the golden chain calling you to put it on. And you want to, you want to so bad. Human legs? Could you really go on land at your own free will without any consequences? No. There had to be consequences, there had to be something.

“What’s the catch?” you ask nervously, eye darting back to the slimy eel in front of you.

“The catch? Oh, yes. The catch,” she smiles a devious smirk your way that screams danger. This is dangerous, she is dangerous. “The catch is, don’t let it get broken or taken. For if you take it off on land, you have two days to make it back to the ocean.”

“What happens if I don’t make it back in time?” you ask slowly, your voice as quiet as a sea urchin.

“You die,” she warns as your pupils expand into pure terror. “Basically, you’ll turn back into a mermaid and suffocate to death. Your body will turn to dust, and you’ll be left with nothing but a mere breeze carried out to sea.”

“Oh.” You have no words, nothing to say except is this really what you want? To risk your own safety for a human?

“Well, go on now. Put it on, child,” she coaxes, her grimy teeth snarling up at you like a trickster would.

You slowly look at the necklace, turning it over as you think and think and think. Joel. The human world. So many things you want to see. Before you really think it through, you unclasp the latch and throw it around your neck, clipping the clasp into place as the glistening shell sits just above your breasts. This is it. This is what you always wanted. Right?

The eel laughs sadistically, curling her tail along your wrist as she brushes past you back into the dark shadows. “Remember, two days. Be careful out there, child. You never know who you might run into…”

With that, she disappears into the dark depths of a cave, and you waste no time as you swim free of your confined area. You push your way through the narrow, rocky opening and meet scar on the other side. You see him eye your new flashy jewelry and see the way he looks at you as if you had done something bad.

You grip it tight and try to take his focus off it. “It’s nothing, Scar. Just something I found under a rock. It’s nothing to worry about.”

You see him brush past you as he swims ahead of you, and you follow silently. You can already feel the judgement coming off his large body. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken it, maybe this was too risky, but you did. You did. No going back now.

You swim ahead of Scar, pushing your shimmery tail as fast as you can possibly go. You brush up against silky kelp beds, making bubbles swirl up to the surface like a whirlwind. You keep swimming and swimming and swimming until you’re there. Back at the boat. Back at his boat.

Pushing free to the surface, you feel the sunlight rain down on you as bursts of warmth hit your bare shoulders, letting the salt water drip down your radiant face as you slowly slip closer to the grand boat. The water is calm, the boat gently rocking side to side as you watch the sails slowly sway in the warm breeze.

You swim closer, keeping your head down as you circle one side of the boat. You see a crew of men shuffling their way back and forth on the deck, watching the way the men shout to each other as they work. One man with a blue bandanna across his matted hair is untangling a large fishing net, another is scrubbing the deck with an object you don’t know the name of. There’s no sign of Joel though.

You sulk on the surface and slap the edge of the water with your palm as you pout your bottom lip out. One look. You just wanted to see his beautiful face once until you could see him tonight. You slowly turn the other way, about to head back underwater, when suddenly you hear a high pitched whistle from the deck. You turn and freeze, your eyebrows knitting together as you see one of the men staring at you in awe.

Oh no. No, no, no. They weren’t supposed to see you.

He’s still staring at you, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as you hear him call out to the other men on the ship. You sink down into the water, dropping into the dark shadows as you stay still, afraid you’ll be seen again.

You weren’t supposed to go out until tonight. Why didn’t you just wait?

After a few minutes pass, you slip out of the shadows and swim back close to the surface, making sure not to stick your head out of the water. Scar swims past you with a warning, and you turn your head to tell him you’re okay.

“Everything’s fine, Scar. I think it’s safe now. I think…”

Before you can finish your sentence, something rough and jagged falls on top of you. You try to swim away, but your tail gets tangled up and caught in something you can’t quite get out of. As you look back at what it is, your heart drops out of your chest. A net.

“Scar!” you scream, cries of bloody murder reaching the deep depths of the water.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening. Joel wouldn’t hurt you. Would he?

The more you try to squirm, the more your tail gets twisted in the bindings. The net starts to reel you in, taking you up further to the surface. Scar tries to desperately get you out, but the netting only rubs up against his rough skin.

“Go on, I don’t want them to hurt you,” you say sadly to your friend. His big black eyes stare at you, but he silently agrees.

“And don’t tell father or my sisters, please. I’ll find a way back. This won’t be the end,” you promise.

You watch Scar swim off in a hurry, muttering words under his breath as he heads further beneath the darkness. You really hope he’ll keep his word and not tell your father. He’d kill every single man on this boat, including Joel.

As the net pulls you up further, you toss and turn. You lash at the bindings, but it only makes it tighter around your body. Your shimmery scales on your fins feel like they’re about to be pulled off the harder you fight.

Anxiety starts to take over, you feel like you’re suffocating underwater as you’re pulled to the surface. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire as the harsh net tears into your skin. You let out a blood curdling scream as the net scratches at your arm, forming a large gash as crimson blood starts seeping out.

You’re going to die, you’re never going to see your family again. Why the fuck did you put your faith in a human? Why?!

Joel hears the horrifying screams and sees his men hauling up the large, heavy net. Cold seaweed filled water starts dripping over the side of the wooden deck as the flash of a sparkly pink tail comes into clear focus.

Joel goes wide-eyed, dropping his golden telescope to the floor as he screams and runs to his crew. “What the fuck are you doing!” His voice is panicked, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in your terrified face. He’s afraid they’ll kill you.

“Catching a mermaid, cap’n!” Jasper laughs out as he helps haul up his precious treasure. “Told ya mermaids were real, didn’t I?”

Joel’s shocked, his boots frozen to the sea clad wood as his mind races. Without thinking, he runs over to the men and starts pushing them out of the way as the net comes crashing down to the deck. Salt water spills over the edges as you shiver in fright, horror written all over your beautiful face.

Your necklace seems to burn hot against your chest as the orange color glows brightly under the sunlight. You look down at your perfect tail and see the sparkly scales start to shed as the tail starts to evaporate. You stare in horror as your tail splits in two, forming smooth legs in its place.

Suddenly you realize you’re naked as the men stare in hunger, their mouths drooling as they take in your curves. You hug your knees to your chest to try to pry their eyes away. Cold. You feel so cold, so scared as the men surround you like starving hounds. You want to go home. You want to go home. This was a mistake, a huge mistake. They’ll hurt you. They’ll hurt you.

Joel pushes the men out of the way and starts peeling off his white button-up shirt as his worried look encases all of his features. He bends down to your level and wraps the shirt around you to cover your exposed body up.

“Can you guys back up? For the love of God, give her some air! Christ,” he yells out annoyed as he looks back at you with wide eyes, his calloused hand brushing the side of your cheek as you push back out of his reach.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he responds as he puts his hands in the air as if to show he’s harmless. Your body relaxes a little, but you still don’t fully trust him.

“A mermaid, cap’n! What happened to her tail?” a man with shaggy hair hanging over his slumped shoulders and dirty brown shirts yells appalled.

“Didn’t know mermaids could come on land with legs. What sorcery is that?” another rugged pirate asks as he untangles the rough net they used to catch you.

You cover your ears and sink your knees deep into your chest as you hide your face from view. You want to go back home, get away from all the noise of prying eyes and raspy voices. You regret coming to shore, you regret it all, you shouldn’t have come because you trusted a human. How could you have been so stupid?

“Silence!” Joel yells as he bends down to your level and cups your chin as he raises your head to face him. You shiver, your body sinking into itself as you shake from the cold air and damp shirt.

“Hey, it’s alright, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna hurt ya.”

His calloused fingers linger under your chin, dragging along your smooth skin as you stare into honey flecked eyes. You try to look away, but you can’t escape those eyes. Those beautiful orbs made of light and dark brown flecks mixing together to make the prettiest shade of brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your entire life. Those alone tell you he’s safe, he won’t hurt you.

Safe. He’s safe.

Your eyes travel down his glistening tan, salt water coated skin as you take in how broad he is. Flexed biceps and spidery veins skating down his entire arms. He’s so handsome.

Suddenly, he’s gripping at your wrist. “Your arm. It’s bleeding,” he says with a rushed breath as he scans the large cut on your forearm. “C’mon, let’s go clean that up. Can you stand?” he asks as he reaches out a large hand.

You take a minute to weigh your options. You can either stay in the presence of the grimy pirates, or you can go with Joel where it’s quiet. You choose Joel. When you lift yourself up with your arms and try to take a step forward, your legs start to shake and your knees cave in. You almost go tumbling to the deck until strong arms catch you before you hit the hard floor.

“Whoa, slow down there. Here, let me help you.” Joel picks you up and cradles you in his arms as he starts to walk toward the stairs that’ll lead him beneath the boat.

“Get back. Give her some air,” Joel growls as his men start to part the sea, dirty bodies backing up to make way for Joel to get through.

You unknowingly sink into his warm chest, hiding your face in the crook of his neck so you won’t have to see their wandering gazes to your barely covered body. Joel pulls you tighter against his chest as he feels your discomfort.

“I got ya, sweetheart. It’s alright, they’re not gonna hurt ya. I promise,” he says against the shell of your ear, and somehow you believe him. He’s not lying to you. Why would he?

He takes you down some wooden steps and back into a large room. You slowly peek up from his chest and take a look around the room. Light shines through the little portholes of the boat. A couple of glowing lamps hang from the wooden walls as a table covered by maps and compasses lays in the middle of the room. A small bed with crisp white sheets sits in the left corner of the room, and pictures of the ocean and secluded islands line the walls. It’s very… cozy in here.

“Is this your room?” you ask as your eyes scan the small area. It has to be his room, it just screams Joel.

“Mhm. It’s where I come to sleep and scan out maps when I’m on the boat. I live just up the coast, but I spend so much time out on the water that I needed my own little space. A place where my crew wouldn’t bother me,” he chuckles out as he carefully sets you down in a wooden chair.

“Do they just sleep upstairs?”

“No,” he laughs as he shakes his head, “They have their own little quarters down on the opposite side of the boat. Didn’t need them wakin’ me up with their snoring and drunken nonsense.”

You laugh as you see a smile curl around his soft lips and a dimple forms in the center of his cheek. You swear he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. So strong yet so soft. You get so caught up in his charm that you almost forget you’re shaking and your arm is bleeding.

“You cold, sweetheart?” he asks softly as he grabs a couple of fluffy towels and a first aid kit from the other side of the room.

“Just a little,” you say with chattering teeth as his white button-up shirt barely grazes the bottom of your thighs. You’re very aware now that you’re almost naked in front of him which gives you a weird fluttering sensation in your low stomach that you’ve never felt before. How strange.

“Here ya go. Maybe this’ll help.” He throws a soft white towel over your shoulders, and you wrap it around yourself as it brings you a little comfort and warmth. “Better?”

“Better,” you confirm with the nod of your head.

“Good, that’s good. Now let’s take a look at that arm.”

He rolls the cotton sleeve up slowly and reaches for something that’s in a clear bottle. As he unscrews it, he says, “Now this might sting a bit.”

When he pours some of the liquid onto the cut, you flinch and try to pry your arm away, but he holds tight to it. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright, the worst part is over,” he reassures as he presses a towel into the wound and rests a hand gently on your knee. The sudden shift of his softness makes you stop flinching and makes you look down at him.

His soft brown eyes threaten to swallow you whole, his crooked smile could calm raging hurricanes with how beautiful it shines around the room. Like the sunlight beaming through the waters of Capri, all crystal like and calming.

He watches you closely as he wraps your cut up with some kind of material you don’t know the name of. His touch is so delicate, so soft as he takes the proper care to make sure you’re not hurting anymore.

Warm. He’s so warm. So very gentle. And you see yourself falling for him even more now.

“There ya go. All bandaged up. We can probably take this off tomorrow, but just want to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly as your fingers trail along the clothed material that covers your wound.

“It was nothin’, don’t even mention it. It’s the least I can do for my stupid men catchin’ you in that net. I’m really sorry for that, I had no idea. Those men had no right and I’m gonna give them hell about it the rest of the week and…”

You silence him as you reach your shaky arm out and cup the side of his jaw as your thumb trails along the lines of his dark, patchy scruff. His eyes widen as he looks up at you under the fringe of his dark eyelashes. His full attention is on you now.

“Joel, it’s okay. I know now you didn’t mean to harm me. You don’t have to apologize for them. It wasn’t your doing.”

“Yeah, but still. They could’ve harmed you even more if I wasn’t there. They could’ve…”

“Joel.” Your calming voice stops him again as the panic seems to leave his eyes for good. “It’s okay, really.”

Joel looks unsure of himself but nods his head anyway. His calloused fingers still graze along your knee as the contact of his skin on yours seems to send a fire down your legs.

Legs. That’s right, you have legs now. Joel’s eyes look down at your long, smooth legs as he takes them in slowly, his eyes shifting back up to yours as one of his hands slide down one of your calves cautiously. Your breathing hitches at the feel of his calloused fingers on your skin.

“How is this possible? Your legs, I mean. I didn’t know mermaids could exist out of the water,” he says with the expression of surprise written all over his tan face.

“With this,” you say as you hold up the iridescent shell necklace around your neck, watching the way the pink and orange colors shine around the room from the glow of the outside sun. “It’s a magic necklace I found. As long as I wear this, I’ll have human legs. I’m free to take it off whenever to go back to sea, but I have to wear it on land to be able to survive outside the water.”

Joel reaches up and cups the shell in his hand, tracing the crevices of the shell with his thumb as his brows knit together to take in everything you just said. He looks starstruck, not believing his own eyes as he sets it back down to your chest.

“Magic necklace, huh? Mermaids? This is all unbelievable,” he chuckles as he shakes his head. “I can’t believe I met a mermaid this week, and now you have legs? Christ,” he murmurs as he stands up and starts pacing back and forth in front of you while his right hand rakes through his thick scruff.

��Is that bad?” you ask cautiously, afraid he’ll leave at any second and leave you here all alone.

He stops pacing and comes back over to you. He bends back down on one knee and gently cups your face as you gasp out in surprise. The touch of his hand is so warm, so soothing. You want to stay like this forever.

“No, sweetheart. S’not bad. It’s just… how is it that I met the most beautiful mermaid and got you on my boat now? It’s almost like it’s…”

“Fate?” you answer for him, your eyes sinking into his light honey eyes that seem to set your soul on fire.

“Exactly that. Fate.” He repeats as he looks closely into your eyes.

His thumb traces over your bottom lip as his brown eyes flick to your mouth. He looks like he wants to kiss you, looks like he wants to devour you with his plush lips that call to you like one of your siren songs. He’s so close, so very close as he grazes his thumb gently back and forth.

Before you can react, he gets up off his knee and holds out his hands to you. “Can you walk?” he asks as he reaches out to you.

“I don’t know…” you answer quietly as you shift your feet beneath you.

“C’mere. I’ll help you. I won’t let you fall, promise.”

You nod and take one more look at your new legs before you grab his hands and lift yourself up. Your legs shake beneath you, but Joel has a strong grip on you.

“Alright now. Take a few steps for me, walk towards me,” he instructs as you listen to his words. You take one, two, three steps as your feet start to get a hold of how to move on their own. Your legs feel more firm underneath you the more steps you take. Joel leads you around the whole living corridors as you take one hand off him.

“There ya go, sweetheart. Doin’ so good. Now try without me. Go on.” He slips his other hand from you and watches as you take the next few steps over to him without any help. Your legs feel stronger, more powerful with each step you take. It’s not so hard after all.

“I think I’ve got it!”

“Yeah, think ya do, sweetheart.” He crosses his arms and leans against the hollow table as the warm brown flecks in his eyes seer into yours like two stones being melded into one.

You smile up at him shyly and then come across the maps splayed all across the table in a heap. Your fingers trail along the sheets of paper as you take in all the different markings on the maps. Red circles, black lines, words sprawled in different locations on the maps. It looks like he was studying them closely.

“Are these yours?” you ask curiously as he circles around and comes up next to you.

“Yeah, these are all mine,” he answers as he twists one of the colorful maps around.

“What are you looking for?” you ask wondrously as you scan along a long line next to the shoreline.

“Well, there was a shipwreck many years ago that happened around this area. There’s said to be some rare treasures hidden around this location from the wreck. I’ve been trying to find it for a year now, but no such luck. There’s other areas I could be searching, but this one just piqued my interest. So I haven’t given up.”

Your brows furrow together as you study one of the maps, letting your mind wander into far off places. “Maybe I could help you.”

His eyes go wide as his mouth drops open. “You’d help me?”

“Why not? I know these waters better than anyone. And treasure? It’s one of my favorite things to find. I’m always collecting what I can from shipwrecks that people don’t even know about.”

“Really?” he asks incredulously as stares at you in wonder, like you’re a goddess from another world.

“Really,” you giggle as you face back towards him, “but only if you show me your world, too.”

His eyes fade into a warm honeysuckle brown as his lips relax into a crooked smile. “Deal.”

As your eyes fade back down to the marked up maps, he starts to tell you something else. “Ya know, I have a whole room back at home full of treasures I’ve collected over the years. In fact, I have an entire library full of artifacts and books you’d probably love.”

Your eyes shoot up in a frenzy as your mouth drops open. “You do?”

“Mhm. Ya know, I was plannin’ to go back home for a few days tomorrow. Would you… would you want to come back with me? I could show you around the land. Could show you around my place. Could show you anythin’ you wanted to see.”

Your eyes gaze into his as his hand slowly grazes over yours, and you swear you see stars in his eyes. “I’d show you the whole world, gorgeous.” He grabs your hand and brushes his lips over the back of your knuckles, and you about drop to your knees right there.

Charming. He’s so charming.

“Yes,” you whisper out, your voice deceiving you as you shake your head out of the love sick trance you’re under. “I’d love to see it with you.”

He nods his head and settles it. “Alright then. It’s a deal.”

He drops your hand back to the table, and he spends hours after that showing you all his maps, telling you all about his adventures on the water, and you just soak in every bit of him that you can.

By the time the sun goes down and the lanterns light up the dim area, you’re yawning and trying hard not to fall asleep. Throughout all the events of the day, it’s just about knocked you completely out.

“Here, why don’t you take my bed tonight? You look exhausted.”

You shake your head and try to refuse. “No, no. I couldn’t possibly take your bed.”

Joel places a hand gently on your bicep and lingers there. “Please, just take it. I have a small cot in the corner I can dig out. I’m alright, you take the bed tonight. Please.”

His calloused fingers linger on your arm, and you feel the heat all the way through the cotton shirt as it simmers down into your blood like hot lava filling your lungs. You take another look at his lips that hang just inches from yours and whisper out quietly, “Okay.”

He drops his hand from your arm and grabs a clean t-shirt from his small cedar closest. “Here, put this on. I'm sure you want something more comfortable to sleep in. I’ll get you some real clothes tomorrow. There’s so many dresses I think you’d love, I’ll pick some up tomorrow,” he confirms as he holds out his hand for you to take the white cotton t-shirt.

Your hand grazes his, and you can’t help but always gasp when his skin comes in contact with yours. It feels electric, like you were made to touch him. You take the shirt from him and he turns around and walks to the other end of the room. “Go on now. I won’t peek. Just want ya in somethin’ more dry.”

Your eyes flick to him, and he keeps his word. You quickly unbutton the long sleeved shirt and drop it to the floor. When the shirt hits the ground, you see Joel fighting with himself to not take a quick peek at your body. You hang there for just a second gazing across at him. You watch the way his strong back muscles flex as his jaw clenches up, his fist flexing at his side as he fights to keep himself composed.

You almost wish he’d turn around because there’s a weird sensation between your thighs that you can’t quite pinpoint. Strange. He makes you feel so strange. So alive. It’s just so weird.

You avert your eyes from Joel and slide the cotton shirt over your head as it grazes your thighs. You climb into bed and feel just how comfortable the soft sheets and white blankets feel on your skin. This might even be more comfortable than your shiny clam shell bed back under the sea.

“Alright, I’m dressed,” you confirm as he slowly turns around and walks over to you as his boots scuff across the wooden floor.

“Is it warm enough for ya? You comfortable enough?” he asks as his hands come to rest on the side of the bed.

“Mhm. It’s perfect,” you yawn as you turn to the left to get a better view of his sun tanned face.

“Good. Well, get some sleep, sweetheart. Got a busy day tomorrow.”

He trails his fingers over your jawline as he runs the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone slowly. Your breath hitches in your throat as he so carefully grazes it down to your bottom lip again. You really think he’ll kiss you this time, but he crushes those hopes as soon as he drops his fingers from your face.

“Let me know if you need anythin’, sweetheart. I’ll be right here.”

You sigh and watch him set up his little cot in the corner of the opposite side of the room, wishing he was in the bed with you instead. As he sits down after it’s set up, you start to close your eyes as the last few words leave your lips before darkness takes over. “Goodnight, Joel.”

“Goodnight, my little mermaid.”

And then you fade into the darkness.

Joel stays up for the next hour just watching you sleep. He watches the way your hair falls over your shoulders as you hug the cotton pillow to your cheek. He watches the way your chest rises and falls softly when you sleep. He notices the long eyelashes that kiss your skin as a small smile creeps over his lips. He thinks you’re so beautiful, so perfect. He knows he’s falling fast, he knows he should be more careful, but with you he doesn’t want to be cautious. He wants to dive in head first and drown in your saltwater coated skin. He wants to be the one. He wants to be your only one. And he will be. He will.

Tags: @morallyinept @littlevenicebitch69 @mountainsandmayhem @vividispunk @pedroswife69 @maried01 @vee-bees-blog @keylimebeag @pedrostories @poeticpascal @tuquoquebrute @bbyanarchist @sheepdogchick3 @forgetmenotsexy @ayamenimthiriel @readingiskeepingmegoing @dreamingofleon @syd-djarin @dugiioh @amyispxnk @msjarvis

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